#what was my tag for height shit I’m not ready to use the one I rly fucking want until I get the big post out
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dyspunktional-leviathan · 2 years ago
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If your masc women characters necessarily need to be tall literally fuck you
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euaphora · 1 year ago
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she got a tattoo right by her bikini that say “eat me!” | ft. Geto Suguru and Gojo Satoru
warnings: smut, threesome, face- fucking, oral sex, size kink, voyeurisum, jealousy issues, breeding kink, dom!pervy!gojo, sub!bratty!reader, dom!pervy!geto, cum eating.
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Gojo and Geto were your college dorm roommates who loved tag teaming on you since the day you got there, always making fun of you by hiding stuff under the couch, already, so you would bend over with your ass up, giving them a perfect view of your pink lace panties.
“Not funny guys, I need these bottles for my skincare…” you said, already pissed off after having to find them under the couch. You would be on all fours—your hand trying to reach for mini bottles under the couch— both hovering over you, watching you fall for their trap.
They loved making fun of your height, you were always the monkey in the middle when they would throw around your lingerie. “Give it back already, guys!” you plead, running back and forth in-between them. All they did was laugh at you, teasing you. “You gonna show this off to your new boyfriend?”
When they would bring over girls, they always made sure you can hear every single sound they would make, the feminine moans slipping out of her mouth made your blood boil a little bit. Why were they being so loud, god?
The mornings after never phased you anymore, getting so used to different girls coming over. “Sleep good, sweetheart?” Gojo asks, coming up from behind you while grabbing a cup from the cabinet in front of you both, making you slightly feel his bulge.
“No, could you please a little quiet..next time?” You say, moaning at the feeling from his now hard member in his pants, ready to be let out and inside you already. “What was that?” Geto interrupts you both, you look over your other shoulder, seeing him lean against the counter with a mug in his hand.
“Yeah, ‘seemed like you were having trouble there.” Gojo laughs out and smiles, towering over you when you turn around. “I wouldn’t have had any trouble if you weren’t trying to get off with my ass..” you clap back, making them look at each other then back to you.
“Don’t be talking to me like that, princess. I get that your a little mad but-”
“You can’t keep being these girls over and expect for me to be okay, I live here too!” You explain, frustration taking over. He puts his hands out to try and reason things out but your pull away, “don’t fucking touch me, Satoru!”
“Get on your knees.” Gojo says while slipping his cock out of his briefs while maintaining eye contact.
“W-what?! I’m not gonna do whatever you ask your other hoes to-” you get cut off while he roughly pushes you onto your knees and shoved his cock inside your mouth, “You wanna talk now, mmhm?” He laughs out, watching tears slip out of your eyes and chin covered with his pre-cum.
“Too big for you, baby?” He told you, watching you take him all in your mouth, “pretty little slut with a big mouth..”
You feel his hips stuttering, feeling ropes of his white seed pop into your mouth while the rest falls off onto your breast. You get up and walk towards Geto, who already has his own already out, pumping his fist.
You lean your hands against the counter, wiggling your ass as a hint for him to invite himself inside, making him give you a smile.
He starts off slow, eventually ramming his dick inside after the first few thrust—making you let out a loud moan—quickly covering your mouth with his two hands while he keeps going, you arch your back so he can get a deeper angle inside you.
“Does that feel good enough for you to shut up?” Geto questions, removing one of his hands from your face to lift your leg to reach your g-spot. You nod your head and look over to Gojo, who was smiling the entire time.
“So much attitude just to be thrown out once we give attention, such a jealous baby…” He says while watching you fuck yourself onto Geto. You couldn’t hold it any longer, “s-shit! I’m gonna come!”
“Let go for me, baby…” he whispers into your ear while putting some of your hair that got in the way being your ear, rocking his hips deeper into you. You feel a tight knot on your stomach, melting into his touch and pulling him in for a kiss.
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peachsukii · 9 months ago
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Blast Off
『♡』  fem!reader  x bakugo ╰➤ ꒰ aged to 21 | friends to lovers ꒱ -`✧ katsuki bakugo masterlist 
summary: your favorite metal band is in town, the same one you used to listen to with bakugo back in high school, and you decide to go to the show together! after a long week, a night out in Shibuya is exactly what you need. tags & warnings: brief violence, cursing | friends to lovers, pining, protective bakugo, fluff, first kiss a/n: bakugo would be such a fun person to go to a show with when he’s the one interested! otherwise he’d rather stay home lol ꒰ Ao3 version | word count; 1,714 ꒱
“Yo, you ready yet, dumbass?” Bakugo shouts from your living room, impatiently tapping his foot as he’s waiting for you to finish touching up your makeup in the bathroom.
“Just a sec, Kat!” you call back as you’re leaning over the sink, cleaning up the corner of your eyeliner with a wet cloth.
“Y’don’t even need makeup, dammit!” he retorts, a backhanded compliment to get your ass moving. “Ya probably won’t even -,”
His words die in his throat as you emerge from the hallway and enter the living room.
Woah. She looks fuckin' gorgeous.
You catch him staring as you’re clipping in a pair of earrings. “What? Too much?”
He scoffs as he sneakily checks you out a second time. “Nah, you look great.”
You smile and wink at him. “Thanks, Kat. Right back at ya.”
“If some slimy fucker creeps on you, I’ll punch his lights out.”
You can’t help but snort as his comment.
The outfit you chose to wear fit the scene of the band you were seeing, one of your favorite metal bands that you two would listen to back in high school. It wasn’t too over the top, at least you didn’t think so. An all black ensemble - a thin long sleeve mesh top under your band t-shirt, tucked lazily into a pleather mini-skirt and a pair of tinted sheer tights hugging your legs. Your hair was pulled into a ponytail, a few stray pieces of hair framing your face alongside your bangs.
Bakugo wasn’t as dressed up as you were, donning a simple grey t-shirt, a pair of black skinny jeans with rips in the thighs and black boots. A stack of his favorite bracelets hung on his wrist and a pair of black studs adorned his ears.
“Figure out where you wanna eat?” you ask as you’re looking for your boots in the hallway closet.
“The curry place by the station. We can hop on the train into the city afterwards.”
Boots in hand, you return to the living in room and plop next to him on the couch.
“Those things could squash a damn kid,” Bakugo jokes, pointing to the platforms of your boots as you’re lacing them on your feet.
“They’re literally the same kind you wear on patrol!”
“And you’re still shorter than me with those fuckers on.”
You punch him in the arm, maybe a little too hard, to be playful. “I don’t need to be your height to kick your ass!”
“Ow, shit! Watch it, those hands are fuckin’ deadly!” he scolds, rubbing the reddening mark on his bicep.
“My bad,” you chuckle, patting him on the shoulder as an apology. “Let’s get outta here.”
-
“Hand it over,” Bakugo orders as you pick up the check from the table, flexing his palm toward you.
“Huh? I told you -,” you start to remind him until he cuts you off mid-explanation.
“Just ‘cause I heard ya doesn’t mean shit. Give it.” He snatches the paper and booklet with one hand while fishing his wallet out of his pocket with the other. “Stop bein’ a brat and let me pay for your damn dinner.”
“I’m not being a brat! I was just trying to treat you to dinner for once,” you say defensively.
“Yeah, well, you’re lucky I let you buy the tickets.”
Bakugo consistently paid whenever the two of you would grab food. It didn’t matter what it was - coffee before work, snacks from the convenience store, lunch outings, dinners in the city - he’d shove you aside and take your card, or be the one to order so you don’t have the chance to hand your card over. The few times you did get to pay for him, he immediately sent you the money back. It’s been a consistent staple in your friendship since Junior year of high school.
While leaving the curry shop, you see the train approaching at the station.
“Shit, Kat. That’s the train we need to catch to make it on time!” you utter in a panic as you grab his wrist. “C’mon!”
_
You arrive at the venue an hour before the show starts, giving you both enough time to get inside, grab drinks and find a perfect spot as planned.
Once inside, the two of you make your way over to the bar while the crowd was light.
“Are you at least gonna let me buy you a drink?” You tease, elbowing Bakugo in the arm.
He sighs dramatically, the tell-tale sign that he’s no longer going to fight you on it. “You’re lucky I’m feelin’ generous.”
Beers in hand, you both head to the general admission area of the venue and situate yourselves near the back - not too squished between loads of people but close enough to see the stage.
“Thanks for coming with me tonight,” you beam, leaning against him as a token of thanks.
He throws an arm over your shoulder and pulls you into his chest. “Of course. Woulda been mad if ya didn’t ask me to come see the band we had on repeat together through all those study sessions and sparring matches.”
The lights begin to dim and the crowd cheers as the band takes the stage. He lets you take a step back and shift next to him, but keeps his arm around your shoulder. The two of you cheer in unison and hold up your beers for the band as they set up for their first song.
_
The show has been a goddamn blast! The two of you have been singing and dancing together the whole time, screaming every single lyric. Bakugo loves watching you throw your hands up and yell along with the crowd, having the time of your life and not letting anyone get in your way. It’s infectious - his grin not wavering the entire show.
“We have one more song for the night!” The lead singer announces into the mic. “It’s a special one - thanks for coming out!”
The song they begin to play is one of their slower numbers, one that you know Bakugo adored. You watched as his eyes lit up under the spotlights, taking in the moment as the band progressed through the song. You loop your arm with his, rocking back and forth in unison with the rest of the crowd.
Bakugo removes his arm from your hold to spin you around to face him, pulling you close and holding you to his chest. He gently sways with you in his arms as you embrace him, mimicking a slow dance. You can hear his heartbeat thrumming in his chest alongside the subtle vibrations of him humming to the song. Your eyes flutter closed, absorbing every ounce of love in this moment between the two of you. His hold encased you in a sense of security that you didn’t find with anyone else.
Once the song ends, the band is saying their goodbyes to the crowd as he releases his hold on you.
“I didn’t think they were gonna play that tonight,” you say, smiling up at him. “Guess we gotta buy t-shirts now!”
Bakugo laughs, shaking his head. “Matching ones?”
“It’s either that or we buy one and I constantly steal it from you.”
We?
Bakugo smirked at the suggestion.
“You steal my shit all the time, ya brat,” he teases, pinching your cheek. “I’ll buy two. Which one do y’want?”
“You pick, you have better taste than I do. I’m gonna run to the bathroom before we head out,” you say as you pat him on the shoulder before skipping off to the bathroom. He heads over to the merch table to stand in line for your t-shirts.
It’s been a good 20 minutes since you wandered off. Bakugo meanders over to the bathrooms, the t-shirts he bought for you both draped over his shoulder. He’s poking around, searching for you in the crowd as he spots your ponytail in a sea of others.
You’re talking with some guy that he doesn’t recognize. The guy slithers into your personal bubble as Bakugo stalks up behind you.
“C’mon doll, you’re fine as hell. Don't you -"
"Beat it, jackass. She's obviously not interested," Bakugo interrupts, stepping to your side.
He scoffs and takes a step back from you. "And who the hell are you?"
"Her boyfriend. Now fuck off."
Your cheeks flare at his comment - did he mean that? Or was that just to get this guy off your back?
You turn to leave as the guy slaps your ass - hard. "Have fun with this loser."
Bakugo doesn't even have time to react before your fist crashes into this guy's jaw, clocking him so hard that he stumbles to the floor. The commotion causes one of the security guards to scurry in your direction, beckoning for you to come over to him.
"Shit, we gotta go!" you yell, interlocking your fingers with Bakugo's as you bolt through the crowd and away from the guard before getting caught.
The two of you manage to escape, rushing out of the venue's exit door and into the busy Shibuya streets. You don't stop running until you round a corner and duck into an alley way, hiding from any potential security that could have tailed you and letting go of his hand.
Out of breath, you lean on to the wall and wipe the sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand.
"S-shit, sorry Kat, didn't mean to thrash you around like that."
He takes a second before deciding to box you up against the wall with his frame, catching you off guard. "I'm not complain'."
"Boyfriend, huh? Was that your way of asking me out?" you joke, pulling at the collar of his t-shirt.
Bakugo snickers as he's shutting his eyes, lowering his face to level with your own before your lips meet. The kiss is brief, but enough to get his point across.
"I bought matching band shirts with ya, who the fuck else would I do that shit with?"
You giggle, pulling him back in for another kiss - longer and sweeter than the previous one.
This isn't where you thought the night would end, but you're over the moon.
bakugo just couldn't resist confessing after watching you beat some dude's ass in one punch ;)
Divider by : @/saradika
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mintkookiess · 1 year ago
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It's you?!
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A/N: Craving more 42!Miles screen time. Better yet, I want him to have an entire goddamn film.
Another post from the private vault! hope y'all like this one as much as I did! (。・・。)
Love,
Mint
Summary: 42!Miles and his weird ass obsession on finding out Spiderwoman!reader's real identity (and vice versa, but less obsessive LMAO she just curious)
Tags: 42!Miles x Spiderwoman!reader, some cussing, choking (not that kind) enemies -> friends
Word count: 2.3k
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The Prowler had a sick grin behind his mask as he stared at the woman standing a few feet away from him. It was almost laughable to him how she could stand for all the heroic shit, even her suit looked downright ridiculous. “You’re a brave one to try to stop me, I’ll give you that.” He laughed with his voice slightly distorted from the voice changer. “But I hate to break it to you ma, I’m going to remind you where you belong, to make you remember your fucking place.”
Though deep down he knew that he always looked forward to their fights and banters. Sure, he’s handled a bunch of big enemies and may have been beaten to a pulp once or twice, but nothing makes him feel more alive than fighting the one and only Spiderwoman. Little does he know that he’s slowly garnering some sort of obsession over finding out who she was. 
He was itching to know what kind of person this woman was who had the actual capabilities of making him excited and thrilled over fighting, something he grew to hate. 
"Yeah, I will. Since my place will always be above you." Y/n replied coolly behind her mask. As Spiderwoman, she is obligated to eradicate all evils in Brooklyn, but this Prowler dude always made it interesting for her. And today was just like their usual encounters. 
Sometimes, she admits that she wants to know who he was beneath all that tacky suit. Like why does he look like fucking Dracula? 
I hate that fucking mask. Miles thought as he scowls down at the hero. All he wanted was to rip the mask off of her head and finally see her face. He couldn't exactly understand his undying obsession with finding out. Like, why her of all heroes?
He growled in frustration with himself, clawed out his hand, and lunged at Y/n, ready to rip her apart. In response to this however, Y/n was quick enough to instantly shoot a web by a nearby building on their right, flinging herself towards it to dodge him. "Is that the best you got pretty boy?" She called out. 
"Pretty boy?" Miles raised an eyebrow behind his mask. He snarled, jumping off the ground to thrust towards her once more, this time using full force to try to pin her against the wall. He does this successfully, picking Y/n up by her throat. "Who are you?" Miles hissed, his claws retracting before digging his metal-covered fingers into her neck more. "Tell me, damn it."
Y/n kept her body calm and tried to maintain proper breathing despite being choked by him. "Spiderwoman, who else would I be?" She choked, her mind trying to find the best way possible to escape from his deadly grasp. 
"That's not what I meant," Miles glared, squeezing even tighter than before. His golden brown eyes slowly became wild in anger, almost as if something's taken over him. 
"Answer me properly, pretty girl," He seethed, his mask glitching slightly. Though he called her "pretty girl", he did so in such a mocking tone.
Miles dropped her to the ground but doesn't waste a second before pinning her against the wall with his arm over her head. With his height, he just easily towers over her.
The sight egged him on, the feeling of having Spider-Woman beneath him like this was exhilarating. 
"Who. Are. You."
"Someone who's... about to kick your goddamn ass." She murmured before her leg flew up to his arm, and with every force she could muster she kicked it down, making him lose balance. 
She shoots another web to the building on the opposite side, keeping a fair distance from the Prowler. "Why do you want to know me so badly?" She called out to him. 
"Because I want to know my enemy,” Miles yelled back, letting out a low growl as he rose to his feet and sped across to her once more. He lands back close to her, glaring at her with a slightly amused look. It's just a game to him after all. A game of cat and mouse and he was definitely not the mouse. 
"I'll stop at nothing until I found out who you are," He gritted through his teeth. "You won't get away that easily ma." 
Y/n only snorted at his words. "Oh yeah? I think I do a pretty great job at doing that pretty boy." She smirked behind her mask before instantly swinging away, leaving him.
But of course, Miles wasn't backing down, quickly chasing after her. "Who the fuck are you?!" He yelled loudly, but she doesn't answer. They both played chase across multiple buildings. Miles was determined not to lose her this time though, picking up his speed until he was practically at the same speed as her. 
This must be his new world record, Uncle Aaron would be damn proud. 
"I won't stop chasing you until I know." Y/n rolled her eyes at how persistent he was being. Miles wants to know who this hero was, and why she drove him insane with obsession, or how she got him looking forward to fighting her. 
"Well for starters, why the hell are you so obsessed with me? Honestly, don't you have better things to do?!" She called out as she continuously swung between buildings by her webs. Least to say though, Y/n was impressed that the Prowler could catch up at all. But then again, when has he ever failed to impress her?
"It's not an obsession," Miles denied, following close behind her. Even Y/n knew that wasn't the truth.
Miles is a villain. He kills. He maims. He hurts whomever he wants. But with her? Something just felt different. She's special, nothing like the rest of them. She has something he can't quite explain. Some sort of magnet that keeps him wanting to see her often? To fight her more than he does with the usual people he dealt with?
"Why do you keep running away ma?" He asked nonchalantly, but Miles knew he was just trying to keep her under his grasp for a bit longer. "You can fight. Why run?"
Y/n rolled her eyes playfully. "Then let's fight pretty boy." She swung back around towards him, landing her foot on his torso, kicking him hard across the concrete before landing flawlessly on the ground. 
Miles grunts loudly and stumbles back, hitting a beaten-up car behind him. He looks up at her, glaring. "That's more like it ma," He leered, the sun creating shadows on his face, making him look even more intimidating.
He grunted as he stood up, getting close to her once again until he was merely inches away from her face. "You must tell me. You can't keep it from me." Miles grunted. His eyes were wild and insane as if he's lost control of... whatever he was feeling towards this Spiderwoman. 
"If I told you who I was, that defeats the entire anonymous persona thing I've got going." Y/n chuckled, placing a hand on her hip. Though she admits, she was also quite eager to know who Prowler was. Oh hell no, just curious.
"Tell me already!" Miles almost yelled, balling his hands into fists. He's getting angrier by the minute. At who exactly? He wasn't sure. Maybe he was mad at her because she was being stubborn, or mad at his behavior and the way he was acting right now.
But Miles doesn't care. He only cares about the fact that he's not getting the information he wants. 
He just wants to know who she was so badly so he could finally get over this achingly overwhelming curiosity.
"Tell me," Miles glowered once more, his voice dark and raspy. "I won't ask again." 
"You're asking me to tell my arch nemesis who I am behind this mask. You do realize how insane you sound right?" Y/n snickered. But suddenly, she was stricken with an idea. She quickly looked around, making sure no one was around them in the abandoned part of Brooklyn.
For once, she wanted to indulge in her curiosities as Spiderwoman. She grinned at him, even though he couldn't see it. "If you show me who you are, I'll show you who I am. Seems only fair right?"
"Fine," Miles grunted, uncurling his fists. He was a bit surprised at how easy it was for him to agree, despite knowing full well he shouldn't show who he was much less to the person who's been hunting him down for months.
"Show me first. Then I'll let you know who I am." His jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed as he meets her stare. "After all, it is only fair ma."
Y/n laughed, nodding in agreement. "Fine, if we're playing fair, then we should just do it together at the same time." 
Prowler let out a harsh breath and nodded. 
"On the count of three,” Y/n said, her finger gripping the edge of her mask. 
"1..."
"2..."
"3...!"
As Y/n pulled out her mask, the Prowler does the same, his Prowler mask moving back to reveal himself as Miles Morales. 
Y/n's hair fell down, her e/c eyes striking with excitement as she stared back into his. Her lips instantly curved into a smile as she sees an all-too-familiar face before her. "You're that student from school!" 
Miles blinked. "What—" He stopped himself mid-sentence as it finally hits him. It's her. It's always been her. 
His eyes flash with shock, pupils widening to the point where his eyes almost appeared black. The woman that he's been obsessing over, was Y/n. Y/n L/n.
Miles would see her often in class and everywhere else on campus. He has never spoken a word to her, but she slightly grabbed his attention because she was the complete opposite of him. That and because she was obnoxiously loud.
He simply knew her as that friendly, too-nice, pure girl. Definitely did not assume that she'd be Spider-Woman.
"You're that quiet dude from physics and math class!" Y/n gushed even further. "I wasn't expecting it to be you but, that makes so much sense with your mysterious aura and vibe, holy shit."
Y/n was internally screaming inside because she did notice Miles Morales from her school. She thought he was crazy attractive with the stoic and cold demeanor he had going on, especially those goddamn braids of his.
And now here she was, finding out that he was in fact, the Prowler whom she's been fighting for months on end. 
"Y/n..." Miles breathed out. As he processed the woman before him, he started to think about how she was beautiful, far more than he could've ever imagined. He barely looks at her at school, but now he's finally got a good look.
Her smile sent unexpected fluttering to his heart and it was difficult for him to look away. He had to snap himself out of it. Y/n isn't just Y/n. She's Spider-Woman. Who knows of his identity.
Miles licked his lips forgetting all of that in a second. His eyes were still wild but now supported by a little glint. A spark perhaps. Somehow, seeing Y/n and realizing she's Spider-Woman made him feel weird. Good weird. But weird. 
"Well, what do you think? Overwhelmed? Underwhelmed? Rate the experience from 1 to 10, be honest." Y/n smirked, her eyebrows raised and arms crossed over her Spider-Woman suit. 
"You fucking weirdo,” Miles smirked. 
"Would you look at that, the infamous Miles Morales actually knows how to smile,” Y/n replied, clearly amused. 
She was definitely not screaming inside. 
"What can I say ma?" He replied with a smirk, "You bring out the best in me." He found himself teasing her. How interesting.
Y/n playfully rolled her eyes at him. "Ha ha, I wasn't expecting the Prowler to be this cheesy either." 
"I wasn't expecting Spider-Woman to be this beautiful either, so I guess we're both in quite a predicament,” Miles said with a slightly flirty tone. The situation was becoming less tense and more playful between them. 
It was as if Miles had become a different person, being less like the ruthless villain Prowler, and more like himself as Miles Morales. It's a refreshing feeling to him.
"Well thank you, does that mean you've always noticed me from school?" Y/n smiled, placing her hands on her back, and swayed side to side like a child.  
"I noticed you alright.” He chuckled. Miles was still in disbelief with himself since he never showed such emotion to anyone. Ever. But here he was laying himself out to this girl who he barely even knows.
"I thought about talking to you. Usually to tell you to shut up cause you're always so damn loud." He told her. "But then I got too much shit on my mind. You know what it's like as the Prowler."
Y/n simply nodded, "That's fair. I myself am pretty busy cause well... I am Spiderwoman, constantly thinking of how to save the city." She winked. 
"You're busy as Spider-Woman," Miles repeated. "And I'm busy as the Prowler." He grinned at her. "We have that in common, don't we?"
"Except for the fact that we are destined to be enemies." Y/n grinned, shaking her head in disbelief. "But you know, maybe we can be friends."
Her? Being friends with him? What is she even saying... as if he'd actually agree—
Miles cocked an eyebrow. "Friends huh? Maybe we should try it sometime." He grinned, but he stopped himself, almost as if what he said wasn't meant to be said at all. He cleared his throat, "Well, we aren't enemies right now, are we?"
Y/n contemplated for a while, "Hmm... Maybe enemies as Spider-Woman and the Prowler, but we can be friends as Y/n and Miles." She winked, holding out her hand for him to shake. 
Without a second thought, Miles grabbed her hand and shook it firmly. "Deal." He replied with a smirk. "Friends." And he's serious about it too. All they both thought of at the moment was,
Damn, this is going to be one interesting pair.
Fin.
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More of my Miles content here babes!
(if yall wanna be on my taglist feel free to let me know!)
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rip-quizilla · 4 months ago
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We're a Metal Band
@corrodedcoffinfest Day 22: Alternate Universe
A/N: This story is a collaboration between @the-unforgivenn and myself! If you enjoyed this work, go visit her page and show her some love :) You can find her masterlist here.
WC: 996
Summary: Eddie's shift at The Hideout gets interesting when four presumptuous twerps walk in.
Tags: Bartender!Eddie Munson, Dustin, Will, Lucas and Mike are all in a band together, Eddie has a soft spot for these kids in every AU
Divider was created by @strangergraphics
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“For the last time, we’re not children,” the cantankerous, curly-headed demon with the lisp bullied himself into Eddie’s space like there isn’t a foot and a half height difference between the two.  “We have just as much of a right to perform here as anyone.”
“Actually, you don’t,” Eddie countered, fighting his emerging smirk with a withering glare. “This is a bar. Not a daycare. And no one performs here, Justin, the audience would be, like, five drunks at most.”
“My name is Dustin.  I know it’s not a daycare, as I have stated before, we are not –”
“I think what my friend is trying to say-” the soft-spoken one with the unfortunate bowl-cut interjected, “-is that we want to play here. And I think you’d be smart to hire us.”
Eddie snorted, wiping lazy circles across the surface of the bartop with a damp, tattered rag. These kids were annoyingly persistent, but it was better than being bored at work during the dead hours of a Tuesday evening. “And why is that, kid?”
Panic flashed briefly behind bowl cut’s eyes, but right as he opened his mouth to reply he was interrupted by the tall one behind him.
“Because we’re a metal band!”
Eddie’s eyes flicked over to him, followed by the wide eyes of the other three band members. 
“Mike, we don’t know any-”
“Shut up, Lucas!” The tall kid- Mike- muttered to the fourth kid with an elbow to his ribs. Mike’s eyes were trained on what seemed to be Eddie’s chest, so Eddie curiously followed his line of sight… right to his Black Sabbath T-shirt. 
A wry smile took up residence on Eddie’s lips as he decided that maybe these kids could make his boring shift a little more entertaining. 
“A metal band, huh?” He asked, pitching his voice high with interest. “What’s the name of the band?” 
“Sign us. Then we’ll tell you.”
“What do you think I am, a producer? I’m a bartender, kid! I don’t sign shit, I pour beer.” 
“Okay, let us perform then.” The kid amended- practically whined. Jesus, how old are these twerps? “We don’t need a stage or anything, we’ll just set up in that corner! You won’t even know we’re here!”
Eddie leveled an eyebrow at him. “You’re a metal band and you’re telling me I won’t even know you’re here?” Mike cringed while Eddie smirked, shrugging before he turned to dry some pint glasses waiting behind him. “Must not be a very good metal band, then.”
“Next Tuesday.”
The obstinate demand  came from the curly headed one who’d started this whole debacle. Argumentative, this one. A regular Dave Mustaine. Maybe these kids were metal after all. 
“Next Tuesday, what?” Eddie paused, waited. He knew where this was going, but he wanted to test their metal; wanted them to sell him on it. It was the least they could do, since he’d already made up his mind about what his answer was going to be. 
Curly Top steeled himself, squaring his shoulders and standing tall as his height would allow. “Let us perform next Tuesday night, and if we suck then you tell us to fuck off and we never bother you again.” Then he stuck out his hand, arm straight with rigid resolve. He looked ready to make a business deal- which, if you asked this kid, was exactly what he was doing. 
Eddie studied that hand, making a show of contemplating his options before reaching out his own and sealing the deal. 
“Next Tuesday.” he agreed, hiding the grin that threatened to emerge from the corner of his lips. “And you better have settled on a name by then.”
They were all giddy at this point, already glancing at each other with shining eyes and smiles that stretched from ear to ear. “We will! We promise!” one of them piped up as they began shuffling out of the sunset-lit bar. Eddie sighed, cursing his own sense of charity. Explaining all this to Bev would be interesting, to say the least.
“You kids better not let me down!” he called just before they reached the door.
“We won’t, sir!” Dustin shot a gap-toothed grin his way, the golden hour sunlight dappling a halo through his brown curls before the door shut behind him.
Eddie cringed at the sir that punctuated the end of that sentence. He wasn’t sure anyone had called him sir…ever. He chuckled, shaking his head. He might be going soft in his old age. That, or maybe those kids just reminded him of the boy he used to be- eager and hopeful, full of that fire stoked by dreams of making something of himself.
He still had those dreams- kept them in a drawer, admired them from time to time. Kept them in good condition, just in case he decided to pass them down to someone who had what it took to turn them into something more. 
Maybe these kids had what it takes. 
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Eddie isn’t sure what went on in the week following their signing (Christ, that still made him grin), but when the group showed up that following Tuesday night, they were transformed.
Dressed head to toe in black, adorned in chains and leather boots.  Mike boasted a denim vest that looked two sizes too big.  The drummer secured a black bandana around his brow, and he was pretty certain Will was wearing eyeliner.  
Good for him.
Eddie cocked his head, watching as they struggled with what looked like a homemade sheet crudely painted in reds and blacks behind the makeshift stage.  Curiosity simmered behind dark chocolate eyes, straining against the dim light of the bar as the final tack was placed.
He scoffed, a bemused sort of sound as he read the name - their name - that proudly proclaimed to him and all five drunks exactly who they were.
Corroded Coffin.
“Well I’ll be damned,” Eddie muttered as something akin to pride wormed its way into his chest.  
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no1frogfan · 1 year ago
Text
Impending, part 1
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Matsukawa Issei x afab reader
Word count: ~1.1k
Tags & warnings: a bit of drinking, eventual smut (in the next part)
Note: Oops, this was supposed to be 500 words of porn without plot but now it’s going to be a multi-part porn with feelings. I’m the only one who didn’t see that coming. Here you go mica :* @princesskazuya
part 2
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“Thought I’d find you down here. Mom and dad want you to make an appearance before grandma has to leave.”
Hiro grunts, eyes glued to the television where Princess Peach is gaining on Wario.
“Oh. Hey Issei.”
Unlike Hiro, he greets you in response, sidelong glance lingering for just a moment before returning to the tv.
You make your way down the rest of the basement stairs to flop onto the ratty old couch behind them, beer swishing at the movement. The boys lay side-by-side, splayed out on their stomachs on the carpeted floor. They’re both so tall now that they barely fit between the couch and the tv all stretched out like this. It makes it hard not to think about the last time you saw them together. They used to be the same height as you and so scrawny, bony limbs poking out of baggy t-shirts and gym shorts. You could’ve taken them both in a fight, easy — and more than once you did.
But if you thought Hiro’s grown … Somehow Issei got even taller than your brother. Bigger too.
In the lead now, Princess Peach rounds the bend for the last lap. Wario is slowly closing in after an unlucky shell shot sent him tumbling off a cliff.
You tuck one leg under the other and sip your beer. Their bottles sit forgotten on the table as they jostle for the lead. What’s happening on screen is not much different from what’s in front of you as they try to knock the controller out of the other’s hands, shit-talking and shoving each other aggressively.
By the time they’ve reached the last quarter of the track, they’re just full-on wrestling. You hurriedly pull your other leg up out of harm’s way and snatch up their beers so they don’t get knocked off the table. The other racers pass by as they grapple in earnest — Hiro’s laid out on top trying to put Issei in a headlock but Issei hunches over, arms bulging as he grabs Hiro’s thigh and flips him onto his back with a thud.
You just roll your eyes.
They’ve always been like this — rowdy and obnoxious. You’d think more boys would make things more chaotic, but their other friends somehow kept them in line when they all hung out together. When it was just the two of them, they were a way bigger pain in the ass.
“Takahiro, get up here!” A muffled yell comes from upstairs.
“Dad’s calling for you.”
When they don’t stop fighting, you kick Hiro hard in the ass. “Hey!”
“Ow! What the fuck?” Hiro kicks back, missing you by a mile.
“Dad’s calling for you,” you repeat.
“Ugh,” he grumbles and pushes himself up off the floor, still catching his breath. He grabs his half-finished beer out of your hand and flips you off before heading upstairs. “Don’t touch my game.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to win for you,” you call after him.
“I said don’t touch it!”
“No promises!”
When you turn back, Issei is already holding up Hiro’s controller, one thick eyebrow raised and a wicked grin on his face. You mirror his grin.
A whiff of something clean and citrusy tickles your nose when you lean forward. It freezes you in place for a split second before your brain kicks back into gear, trading his beer for the controller and settling back comfortably cross-legged.
“Ready to get wrecked?”
It used to be so easy to rile them up. Issei just chuckles at your taunt now. Sitting up, he pulls down the shirt that’s ridden up his stomach in the tussle, covering the churn of muscle underneath. His shoulder brushes against your knee as he leans back against the couch. His hair has gotten longer, resting in easy waves atop his head. From this angle, the light catches the sheen of sweat on the back of his neck where a few curls lay plastered against his nape. This close, you can smell the salty tang of sweat sneaking through the cologne.
“You remember how to play?” The bass of his voice rumbles through you. That’s new too.
You startle when he twists around to look up at you through hooded eyes.
It’s cool down in the basement, perfect for escaping the heat of the afternoon, but you’re out of the frying pan and into the fire it seems because he’s practically laying his sweaty torso in your lap, one elbow draped over your thigh, his heavy bicep propped on you…
“Yeah, I remember.” Your voice comes out like a purr instead of a sting and he smirks.
You straighten up, shoving his arm off you. “Just hurry up.”
His eyes dart down to your chest with a hum and he scrutinizes you one last time before turning around. Thankfully, he doesn’t say anything else before he starts the race.
Hiro clomps back downstairs just as you cross the finish line. You’d eked out a win, barely. Mostly because you got lucky with the items. Without a word, Hiro plucks the controller out of your hands and resumes his earlier position on his stomach. Issei makes no move to join him. Instead, he plants a palm on your knee to push himself up off the floor and sinks down next to you on the couch.
You keep your eyes trained on the tv, not on him, and not on his hands. Not on his long fingers or the size of his palms.
Your senses become distinctly attuned to his proximity and the itch of his leg hair against your skin with every slight shift. You swipe through your phone wondering if it’s a distraction for him too.
“Anything catch your interest?”
A breathy murmur against your neck makes you jolt. The last race has already ended and they’re waiting for the next to start. When you turn, he’s only a hair’s breadth away, expression hesitant but goading.
Hiro yawns and you’re suddenly reminded of where you are.
You push Issei off and spring to your feet.
“I’m going to grab another beer.”
Matsukawa lets out a low groan as you scurry toward the stairs.
“What?” Makki twists around to look at him, then follows Mattsun’s line of sight up the steps until his eyeline hits the back of your thighs. “Gross, dude. Stop that.”
“No.”
“Fuck you.”
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darklydeliciousdesires · 21 days ago
Text
Little Earthquakes - Chapter Nine.
Thanks to my little audience for your feedback on this. You are hugely appreciated by your author :)
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Previous chapters - Prologue One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight
Tag list - In the comments. Please DM to be added/removed.
Words - 3,477
Warnings - 18+ throughout. Minors DNI!
“Blud, use the firelighters, fucks sake!”  
“Christoper, for the love of the virgin Mary’s ankle bracelet, I’ve already told you I’m not using them! They make the food taste of chemicals.”  
“Never gonna get it lit, ay. Organic firelighters, my fucking arse.”  
Kelsey knew it from the moment he’d arrived early, that she’d be mithered to death over anything from food prep to lighting the barbecue itself. “I’ll come before the others, help you out, fam.” That was never what it meant with Chris. Help always meant hinder.  
At least when Nathan had pledged the same, he’d actually been of help, he and Holly creating salads, making coleslaw, the fact his sister Natasha was a chef and had thus taught him how to chop at speed coming in very handy.  
While Kelsey and Chris were negotiating the lighting of coals, Nathan was enjoying the talents of what his girlfriend had been taught by her sibling, Holly very proficient in massaging thanks to her younger sister Adele learning it as part of being a beautician. He often suffered with a tight back from tattooing for long periods of time, but as he sat at her feet on a cushion, he was nothing but blissful as he felt all the knots in his shoulders being manipulated. 
“I think I know your sister, you know,” Sai, Chris’s wife spoke, demolishing a bowl of sweetcorn salad. It was her favourite dish of Nathan’s, so he’d made way too much so that she could have a bowl of her own to demolish. “Works at Buddha Spa in Islington, drives a red MG, innit? She does my nails.” 
“Yes! That’s Adele,” she confirmed, pressing the heel of her palm against the shoulder that didn’t want to yield, a loud crack following.  
“Ahhh, fuck. That’s got it,” Nathan mumbled happily. 
“I didn’t think beauty paid well enough to drive a classic car,” Sai continued, chewing her way through the salad with enthusiasm. “Sorry if that sounds rude, like. I remember one of my college mates went into it and she said it don’t pay well unless you basically own your own salon.” 
“No, don’t be daft, Sai. It isn’t rude, it’s very true,” she spoke, waving her hand dismissively. “Adele got left granddad’s classic cars after our gran died, and I got the flat. She sold the Jag and kept the MG because it was nicer to drive.” 
“I bloody love classic Jags! You didn’t fancy buying it off her, no?”  
She shook her head. “I don’t drive, which is regrettable, since this one here drives like Lewis Hamilton on speed.” 
“Oi! Shit off with your casting aspersions on my driving skills!” Nathan barked, tipping his head back to frown at her.  
“Nath, you are scary behind a wheel though, fam,” Chris spoke, Kelsey nodding vigorously. 
“Lewis Hamilton on speed sums you up well, mate,” she added with a grin to Holly, both of them receiving a lot of aggressive finger pointing. 
“Chipping in over there with your codshit,” he scoffed, “two wankers who can’t even start a pissing fire!”  
“It’s lit!”  
Chris snorted, looking at the coals. “Barely, Kels.” 
“That’s it, you’ve forced me into this.” Looking towards the back door, she called for backup. Teeny, tiny backup. “Flynn! Get out here and do wrestling with your uncle Chris!” 
There were a few moments of silence before the sound of little feet running from the kitchen could be heard. “I’m coming, mumma!” At two and a half years old, Flynn Chapman-Harris had the kind of speed to be envied, hurtling towards Chris with a look of glee. “Gonna getcha!” 
“I’m ready for ya, little blud!” he spoke, holding his hands wide, bending down a little... to the perfect height for the child to come to a headbutted stop right against his balls. “Jesus wept!” he grunted, folding further, his friends and wife all cracking up completely.   
“What a shot, Flynn!” Sai chirped, picking up her wine and taking a sip.  
“Oi, love. I wouldn’t be so happy about that since you’re wanting kids, ay?” her husband grumbled, picking up the fast-moving toddler and swinging him around a few times. “If he does it too many times, you’ll have more chance getting knocked up by Nath than you will me!” 
More laughter followed that, Nathan himself booming, finishing his beer and opening a fresh bottle from the many he and Holly had brought with them, handing one to Chris, too. At thirty-four and thirty-one, the couple had spent the first ten years of their marriage very career focused, also enjoying an abundance of nice holidays as a child free couple, only now deciding to start a family.  
The subject of children arose a short time later, Dawnii sitting down for five minutes with the intent of getting to know Holly a little better and vice versa, the guys plus Kelsey all hovering around the barbecue. 
“So, I carried them both and they have the same sperm donor. Simon, a good friend of ours who you’ll meet later with his husband. Flynn was from one of Kelsey’s eggs and Fallon mine, so we could both have the biological connection to our children,” she explained to Holly, who had noticed that the children did bear a remarkable resemblance to their mother’s. Flynn especially was Kelsey’s double.  
“That’s flippin’ lovely, that they have that tie with you both and the same donor. They’re so cute and well-mannered, too,” she spoke, Dawnii beaming. 
“Thanks, but you haven’t seen them when it’s bedtime yet. Christ! That’s when the demons come out!” 
“Or trying to get Flynn in the bath,” Sai spoke, remembering her own troubles with the little lad when she and Chris had babysat recently. “I guess I have all that to come. I can’t wait, if nothing but to shut my bloody mother up about it!” 
“Oh, no,” Holly groaned. “Have you been getting the grandchildren noises?” 
Noises? Leticia Johnson was more foghorn than mere noise. “God, yes! Year after year for the last decade, she hasn’t let up. I mean Jesus, what is it with some people – and sadly usually our fellow sisters too – who think it’s the be all and end all for a couple to procreate!”  
Now this, Holly could get behind, given her choice to not have children. “Yes! Flippin’ heck, the crap I’ve gotten from people about it! ‘Oh, you’ll regret it!’ ‘You’ll change your mind eventually!’ ‘Who’s going to look after you when you’re old?’ I’m sorry, but I think if you’re only having children so you have a nursemaid in your elder years, you’re having them for selfish reasons. And I object to being told my own mind in that I’ll somehow regret it! I’m an intelligent woman, I can decide what I want for myself without it being a regret!” 
Sai clicked her fingers rapidly, nodding with great enthusiasm. “Innit, though, babes? Also, like why can’t we be celebrated for the accomplishments we make, and not when we decide to bear young, if at all? Why does that become the all-consuming goal?” 
“If anything, I received the exact opposite,” Dawnii offered, sipping her cranberry juice, looking over to where her little ones played on the lawn. “We had everyone telling us how we couldn’t, that it would confuse any potential children, having two mothers. Thankfully my mum was great about it, same for my in-laws, too. We were lucky with our immediate family unit, but others weren’t as kind.”  
“We women are blighted by the opinions of others so much more than men,” Holly spoke, opening herself a fresh beer. “Take Nathan getting snipped for example. His doctor referred him right away for the surgery, no hoop jumping. I inquired about having my tubes tied once and was told I was too young at thirty, that I might change my mind, that it didn’t make sense when I was a healthy young woman still in childbearing years. It’s such a double standard! Why was his decision as a man respected with more integrity than mine as a woman?”  
“Sexism is still so rampant,” Sai offered. 
“Agreed, completely agreed!” Dawnii added, the women all continuing to enjoy putting the world to rights. While they did, Nathan kept on stealing little glances in their direction, loving how seamlessly Holly had fitted into his life. He winked, and she returned it, the two women she sat with noticing. 
“You two,” Sai cooed softly, reaching to grasp her bare foot and give it a little shake as she grinned. “Adorable.”  
Holly could only agree. She hadn’t been bitten by the infatuation bug quite so hard in a while, her romance with Nathan making her feel constantly like she floated on cloud nine. She would be lying if she said there weren’t a few cloudy areas, though, despite the fact that he made her so happy.  
“Yeah, yeah we are,” she began, sipping her beer. “He’s so sweet, even though my own thoughts are sometimes bordering on intrusive.” 
“Oh?” Sai spoke, reaching for her again. Holly liked how affectionately tactile she was. In the month and a half since she had been with Nathan officially, Sai had been very warm and welcoming to her. “Anything you want to share?” 
“If you don’t mind?” 
“Of course not, doll,” Dawnii spoke, shuffling a little nearer. “What’s up?” 
“It’s me, it isn’t him,” Holly began, her lips thinning a little. “It’s my stuff about being cheated on. Sai knows already, but just to bring you up to speed, it was what ended my marriage to my ex-husband. He cheated on me with three different women.” 
“Blinking swine!” Dawnii gasped, rooting in her head of raven curls to begin winding one around her finger. 
“Yeah, he flippin’ was, and it made me a little insecure, y’know? Especially after Nathan revealed he’d been seeing other women while we were still casual. Well, seeing is a little strong, according to what he said. He’d just had sex with them and that was it. I really appreciate that he was honest with me, it’s completely on brand for who he is as a person, someone who doesn’t mess people around. He didn’t have to tell me that, but he did, and I believe that he isn’t doing it anymore, but yeah. The intrusive voice surfaces sometimes, and now I’m babbling. Sorry!” 
“Oi, don’t be silly! Girlfriends are here to be babbled at, innit?” Sai spoke, pointing a soft finger in her direction. “Valid, how you feel is completely normal and valid too, babes.” 
“Can I just say, too, Nathan acting like a man whore? Total personality swap,” Dawnii added, glancing over at him.  
“Trust us, Nath shagging around is completely out of character for him. He’s not into it, hence our surprise to hear it,” Sai quickly interjected with, Dawnii continuing. 
“I was shocked when Kelsey revealed it to me, and trust me when I say if he was still doing it, she’d have told me. He wasn’t discreet about it in front of her or Chris. Despite the fact that he’s like family to me, if he was still doing it, I’d tell you. Hell, you see Kelsey more often and trust me, she’d have shamed him and told you, too. We’re big on girl code, and she’s big on holding those she loves accountable when they mess up.” 
Hearing those earnestly delivered pledges made her feel much more at ease. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Nathan, per se, it was more she didn’t trust that she was good enough not to be cheated on by a seemingly lovely man. Dean had been lovely once, until all his bad behaviours and red flags she’d willingly ignored had become too big to no longer turn a blind eye towards.  
“I appreciate that, thank you. Like I say, I do trust him, but all the crapping messing around I had off Dean, it sticks, y’know?” 
She was met by two vigorous nods. “I’ve been cheated on in the past, babes. A couple of guys before Chris treated me awfully, so I know where you’re coming from,” Sai revealed, reaching to rub her arm affectionately. “To explain it perhaps from Nath’s perspective, all that with Lisa fucking turned him inside out. He was broken.”  
“I know, and I think he still is to a degree.” Holly truly couldn’t say he was fully healed from his marriage breakdown, but pleasingly, she continued to see him improve. “I don’t expect him simply being with me to be enough to heal everything she messed up in him, that simply isn’t realistic, but he’s getting there. He tells me now if something is bugging him, instead of panicking and getting drunk.” 
That had been a concern Kelsey had shared with her wife, Dawnii of course seeing it for herself too in the state he’d gotten into a few months ago when he’d ended up passed out on their sofa. “Yeah, doll. Kelsey has confirmed he’s calmed down on the drinking front, too. Honestly, I think you’re doing more for him than you think, Holly. Nathan isn’t very tough where his heart is concerned. He needs someone he can feel safe with, and you’re that person for him. Thinks the world of you, he does.”  
“I second that, babes,” Sai added, Holly feeling a pleasant tingle inside to hear such praise from two people Nathan regarded so highly.  
“I’m glad, because I’m utterly smitten with him,” she spoke, giving him a little wave, Nathan pulling a face that had her laughing. “He’s just so kind and thoughtful. He brings me coffee every morning when he stays over, sets his alarm earlier just so he can make time to cuddle me before he has to leave, makes me breakfast while I get ready, and flippin’ hell, the man can cook!”   
“Has he made you that lasagne he does with the butternut squash sauce instead of tomato yet?” Sai asked.” 
Oh, had he ever. “Yes! He got laid so damned well after that. It was delish!”  
“I said to him, Chris would have to worry about me running off with him if I was into white guys, after he cooked that for us one time!”  
Sitting there, she continued to sing Nathan’s praises in all the ways he was a wonderful boyfriend, until the guys plus Kelsey joined them again to eat. Later, they all sat talking quietly, with two sleepy children both fighting to stay awake, Flynn cuddled up with his mumma and Fallon curled up against Nathan, whom she was particularly fond of.  
“She loves you, doesn’t she?” Holly spoke, reaching to stroke her cheek with a soft fingertip, Fallon snoring adorably.  
“Yeah, she’s my little bud,” he confirmed, stroking her hair and dropping a kiss to her forehead, her mummy very carefully lifting her from his arms to take her to bed, Kelsey leaving with Flynn too. “It’s nice to be able to just hang out with them again and give them cuddles without worrying about getting a pissing mouthful for it later.” When her face contorted in befuddlement, he continued. “Lisa would always give me shit about it, saying how great I was with these two and how I couldn’t really not want kids, going by that.” 
She rolled her eyes at the absurdity of his ex’s opinion, Sai piping up next to her. “You look a lot more relaxed than you were eight months ago, Nath, now you’ve got all that drama out your life.” 
God, how he was. He still had his moments, but they were becoming fewer and further between, the more he settled into contentment with Holly. “Yeah, yeah. Definite yes. She weren’t no good for me. You still hear from her at all?” 
Lisa and Sai had once been good friends, but her behaviour towards Nathan had driven a wedge between them, although he wondered how permanent it had been from Sai’s perspective. “Nah, babes. Told her I didn’t want to be around that energy. Using a baby to trap someone, someone who emphatically stated he didn’t want to be father, too? That’s not the kind of person I want to be near to, innit.” She then looked to Holly, her eyes crinkling as she smiled. “I prefer this energy right here.” 
He liked that, that she and his girlfriend were forming a fast friendship. “You’re not the only one, sweetheart.” His words stated the complete obvious, Nathan looking to Holly with a smile, grasping her hand as the conversation moved on to Chris and Sai’s upcoming vow renewals. It was funnier to no one more than the couple themselves that the renewal had ended up becoming fancier than their actual registry office wedding had been. It was essentially the wedding they’d always wanted, but hadn’t been able to afford in their early twenties.  
As a result, the shop would be closing for a week, the team all heading up to Hertfordshire for a small staycation prior to the event itself.  
“Baby, you don’t need that many pairs of shoes,” Nathan spoke, entering her bedroom the following Sunday to see her stuffing them into her suitcase, readying herself for their short time away.  
Oh, how he didn’t understand the average woman’s necessity for footwear. “I have to have choices, because if I change my mind over these and want these ones instead, I’ll be right pissed off knowing I let them behind,” she explained, gesturing to two shoes that didn’t look all too different from each other.  
“Are the Wembley Fraggle’s coming?” No, he still hadn’t let that die. 
“Of course.” 
His crinkled nose had her in soft fits, sitting down on the edge of the bed as he sipped his coffee. “And what's the underwear situation? The silver set better be coming with us." 
He did have a particular fondness for those. “You only like them because you can see my nipples through the lace.” 
His eyes gleamed, raising an eyebrow. “A man cannot be blamed for enjoying a little hint of nipple every now and again.” Holly then obliged him by grabbing her vest top, flashing him rapidly. “Woowoohoo!”  
“I thought you were going for a bath anyway, rather than mithering me on what I might or might not be packing?” she asked, grabbing another pair of shoes, the very pointed heeled ones that her boyfriend began nodding rapidly at. He did have a fondness for her wearing those. Especially after she’d left them on during sex recently.  
“I am, it’s running right now.” 
“Ahh, just like your mouth.” 
“Oi, shit off!” His exclamation had her laughing hard, poking her tongue out at him as she arranged her clothing to stuff in a fifth pair of shoes. “You and your sass, Madden.” Yes, after tiring of keeping her ex’s name, she’d reverted back to her maiden name recently, very much glad to be free of anything relating to Dean. “Right, next priority. What toys you bringing?” 
She had to love his enthusiasm. “Erm... butt plug, bullet, get that look of your face right now because I am not bringing the Bad Dragon purchase.” 
“Pissing spoil sport!” 
“Nath, it’s too big!” 
An eyeroll preluded his words. “How’d you know? You won’t even try it!” And she couldn’t be blamed for that either. After casually browsing the website with him, more out of curiosity than anything, she’d confessed to wondering what the tentacle dildos would feel like, since they were much different textually than anything she’d tried before.  
It was also perhaps one of the lesser-scary phalluses they offered, it had to be noted. And so, he’d bought one for her as a surprise. She’d had just that after removing the rainbow-coloured monstrosity from the box, her eyes darting between him and the creature from the deep as she’d coined it. 
“Nathan, it’s gigantic! I already get stretched to capacity around you!” she cried, snorting at the size of his grin.  
“Yeah, you do,” he chuckled filthily, sipping his coffee. “If it hurts, I’ll stop.” 
“Famous last words.” 
“Aw, go on! It’ll be proper pukka, watching you take it,” he spoke, grinning wider. “It’s getting me hard just thinking about it.” 
She fell apart completely at that. “Seriously?” 
Glancing between her and his crotch a few times, he raised his eyebrows rapidly. “Come see for yourself.” Whilst she resisted the scary dildo still in a box beneath her bed, she could never resist the man sitting upon it.  
His bath was delayed that morning, and, after a lot of cajoling, the dildo plus a bottle of lube were added to her suitcase. If it kept him quiet, she supposed. There was no harm in trying either, she also reasoned.  
It was about to be a memorable little week away for them, and for more than what lurked within her suitcase. 
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siriuslysatorusimping · 1 year ago
Note
I was tagged 😃
So I have a bachelors and masters in applied psych and now am working towards a PhD in neuroscience :) I love love love it with every fiber of my being and I must be a masochist bc I LOVE the academic hazing that is grad school. I’m probably gonna end up teaching and doing research bc I don’t wanna stop being a student. How do Rinko and Gojo feel about grading btw? Hate it. Worst thing ever.
My focus is on brain imaging and stress in a special population of kids who are highly predisposed to developing schizophrenia, but I had to have a lot of training in psychopharmacology and general cognitive and behavioral science to begin with which is why I am so ready to nerd tf out with Rinko studying psych 😍
YOU ARE SO FUCKING SMART. HOLY SHIT. THAT IS SO FUCKING COOL.
Kiko ranted like a dumbass so hi, rest below the cut 🫠
I have a BA and MA in Technical Writing & Rhetoric with a minor in English Literature. HOWEVER. My grad research focus was actually user experience, which was born from human-computer interaction (a psychology major at my old school). Our department had the best user experience professor, so we had a lot of the HCI PhDs in our UX classes. I always loved talking to them and picking their brains. Part of me wishes I had gotten my PhD in HCI or a related field, but I needed out of academia. I fucking hated it. It was also in the height of COVID, which just destroyed all of my motivation for life itself lol
AS FOR GRADING: I FUCKING HATED IT, TOO.
listen.
when i was in grad school, i had 50+ papers to grade every couple of weeks and we had to have them graded within a certain time period or administration CAME FOR US AND IT WAS TERRIFYING.
But one time I left all 50 until the day before I was put on the hit list and I wanted to die. So I chugged two redbulls and proceeded to go on a grading marathon of like, 10 hours.
This AU is feeding my tiny desire to go back to school to keep me from making the giant financial mistake of trying to get my PhD when I know I'll hate academia just as much as I did last time.
I think Rinko will actually semi-enjoy grading, because she's the type who will be so intrigued to see how her students think.
Gojo hates it. But he also doesn't trust anyone else to do it right. Lucky for him, most of his exams are multiple-choice. But since it's physics they have to show their work, and he hates grading that shit because it becomes so obvious that they don't fucking know what they're doing.
(maybe one of the installments will be a cute, fluffy lil grading session where they're just keeping each other company 🥺)
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fair-night-starry-tears · 8 months ago
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Marron bullshit to put on @writing-heiress twst avatar au part 1
Bringing up the fact I made Jasir unique be the literal avatar. This man would be from the calmest reasonable prince Freya can respect to get influenced by her and Minako for a few moments of life to get involved in danger to not give a shit and be ready to spout out roasts out of no hesitation.
Probably also get his ass beaten for not telling Freya he learned to bend gold (I call this the gold bending/ he can find gold nuggets in lakes and caves and bend them into pure gold coins for currency), probably also knows bloodbending, somehow knows to glass bend for a split moment, and might’ve studied more medicine then his family to fucking mess with them.
But the Minako influence being rubbed off him thing? Yeah. YEAH HE WILL BE DEBATING TO TELL HIS FAMILY HE ACTUALLY HAS MASTERED FOUR ELEMENTS AND KNOWING HE COULD’VE RULED THE EARTH KINGDOM HE JUST CHOOSES TO WAIT FOR THE BEST OPPORTUNITY BUT REALLY LOVES TO SHIT TALK ABOUT HIS OWN FAMILY WITH NO HESITATION
Jasir, very done after being dragged everywhere: man I want to tell my shitty family bend every element just to fuck with them.
Freya: exCUSE ME WHAT-
Jasir: but I really…… really want to tell my brother I hooked up with his ex two weeks ago. She said i was the better twin.
Minako: *wheeze*
Jasir: I learnt to bend Gold by accident but I find it useful because if they disown me. I would be rich to steal gold from mines or lakes and no one will give a shit about it-
Yuu: WAIT YOU CAN WHAT-
Jasir: I am going to ruin my family some day…..
Srs he is ready to bend everything and probably destroy his own home and get away with it while also taking the family tiger too. Liliana is just suffocating Minako with her giant height and fur. She just a hint tiger who probably almost killed the twins few too many times and they accept that would be their way to go.
@adrianasunderworld @mangacupcake @writing-heiress @the-weirdos-mind @skboba-stars @nproduction626 @rose-tea-and-strawberries @anxious-twisted-vampire @yukii0nna @achy-boo @abyssthing198 @zexal-club @liviavanrouge
Jasir after Mina dared him to burn his house three times and this was his wanted poster which he refused to let it be changed:
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Update to my tag: it’s actually 1 am now.
Ps: no I won’t fucking sleep I live for chaos
Me when my brain thinks of the stupidest idea yet so genius to me:
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Funny thing is I’m fucking listening to “fun facts with Wan” on TikTok and next shit happen for me to think Jasir can actually see the avatar spirits and never fucking said a word of it and just waited on a very serious moment to just say “oh yeah. I see the avatar spirits. Yeah. Yeah for my entire fucking life.”
Freya: ….. ARE YOU KIDDING ME-
Jasir: im surprise as you, I ain’t the avatar but here I am bending four elements with no relations to any avatar or nomads in that order. My best friend who I confide secret is a tiger, my family dote on a boy who blood bends his way around anything, and I fucking can gold bend. My life should’ve been normal. I would’ve been fine if I was just an earth bender but granted someone said “hey let’s fuck up this kid” look where I stand! I stand on a wire!
I should be asleep but my brain just refuses so if anyone wanna talk about crazier ideas for au’s or somewhat. I’ll be open until my brain thinks about more info or how unhinged the avatars would be to guide Freya or encourage her to go apeshit on someone.
And maybe I’ll draw her about to bend someone existence out again, making it the third time I’ll draw her. Maybe. Unless I debate on drawing her smacking the shit outta Jasir for holding the boiling tea then so be it. Someone will be smacked on sight.
This post got too long then I expected but I can just say this.
I have no control, I am just the embodiment of chaos and I want to eat soup so late.
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kayte-overmoon · 1 year ago
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Daisy Chain - Part 4
Previous Part / Next Part
Alpha Geralt/Omega Jaskier
Rated E
Pregnancy AU
Full tags on AO3
They don’t hear from Yennefer for nearly a fortnight, and Triss is the only one who seems concerned. 
“She said she only had a few things to wrap up then she would contact me so I could help her portal.” She keeps her voice low so only Geralt can hear. She’d pulled him to the side after dinner while Jaskier was entertaining their party with songs he deemed too bawdy to sing in public—which is certainly a feat, Geralt thinks, though he doesn’t disagree when the bard pulls out a whole series of ballads about seamen with horse cocks. “I haven’t heard from her, and she’s either ignored my fire messages or she hasn’t gotten them.” She bites her lip, leaning in closer. “I’m worried, Geralt. She only goes off the grid like this when something’s wrong.”
Geralt frowns. “There was something off about her when we met outside Oxenfurt. I assumed it was the bloedzuiger attack making her edgy. Has she been… getting involved in things she shouldn’t be, lately?” Aside from Geralt, Triss is probably one of the only people on the Continent who truly knows Yennefer of Vengerberg. And considering Triss is a great deal less hotheaded than him, she’s usually on better speaking terms with her fellow sorceress. If Yen’s involved with something she shouldn’t be, Triss would know.
Triss shakes her head, then pauses. “Well, perhaps. I don’t know how much she told you about…”
“She said she’d given up on trying to regain her fertility,” Geralt says.
Triss nods once, looking grim. “She has. And I believe her. But it’s Yen. She needs something to pour all her energy into. Her search to restore her womb was a long and misguided one, but at least it kept her busy. And believe you me, there is nothing worse than a bored Yennefer of Vengerberg.”
Geralt snorts but can’t help but agree. “So, you think she’s taken up something else? She told me she’d tried hunting, but it… didn’t suit her.”
“That doesn’t surprise me. Last time she came to visit, she gifted me a pair of enchanted knitting needles. She said she didn’t need them anymore. They didn’t do what she needed them to do.”
“Which is what?” Geralt snorts. “Disembowel a man from thirty paces?”
“Gods help us if I’m right, Geralt, but I genuinely think she’d tried knitting with them.”
“Fuck. We need to find her.”
Triss nods and looks like she’s about to say something more when Geralt’s medallion thrums against his chest. It’s faint, and brief, but it’s enough to set him on edge. At once, he and the other witchers are rising to their feet, weapons drawn as they face the doors to the Great Hall.
As they turn, an unseen force begins lifting the latch from the other side.
Geralt casts out for Jaskier (safe, huddled by the fire with his lute and approximately three dozen blankets as Vesemir, Lambert, Aiden, and Eskel bristle before him) and edges in front of Triss. She hadn’t felt the surge of magic like the witchers had, but she’d certainly noticed when they all fell silent and drew their swords. She has her hands out, ready to defend if necessary.
The latch on the door rises out of the way smoothly, then a lone figure pushes the doors open and saunters in, their slight frame dwarfed by the massive wooden doors—
“Yennefer!” Triss’ hands fall, then she’s rushing across the room to embrace the other sorceress, whose appearance has left all of them aghast. 
To Geralt’s utter shock and dismay, she looks like shit. She’s in casual leather traveling clothes under her heavy cloak, far less put-together than Geralt’s ever seen her. Her hair is in a braid that’s falling apart. There’s dirt and blood and gods know what else streaked across her face. Her cloak is torn and she’s struggling under the weight of a bag that’s nearly half her height strapped to her back.
But she’s grinning, widely and madly, as Triss rushes to hug her. She drops her bag to the floor and catches Triss about the waist, nearly lifting her off the floor as she returns her embrace.
Geralt spares a glance to the other witchers, who look just as perplexed as he is. 
“Who is that,” Lambert hisses just loud enough for them all to hear. “And what has she done with our Yenna?”
“Oi!” Yennefer cries, setting Triss back on her feet. “I heard that.”
“You were supposed to.” Lambert steps forward, sheathing his sword and crossing his arms, drawing himself up to look more imposing. “I’ve never seen you with a single hair out of place. Lose your magic, perhaps? Or just your marbles?”
Yen rolls her eyes and flicks her hand. The rug Lambert had been passing over slips at her beckoning, sending the witcher tumbling to the floor with an undignified “augh!”
“Magic, no,” she declares. “Though the state of my marbles has yet to be determined.”
“I’ve been worried sick about you!” Triss cries, the shock of seeing her friend giving way to anger. “And here you are, a week late with no notice, and you look—well, I’ll be honest, you’ve looked better, Yen.” 
“Apologies,” she says, first to Triss, then to the rest of them. “Truly. I decided at the last minute I didn’t want to portal all the way, so I set out on foot. Took longer than I thought it would.”
Geralt raises his eyebrows. “You… climbed the mountain? On foot? Alone?”
Yen grins wider and nods. “Got a bit lost on the way and fell down a cliff—don’t worry!” She interjects at Triss’ cry. “It was a short one. I’m fine. Nothing I couldn’t fix on my own.” She rolls back the sleeve of her coat to show the long, jagged line she must have knit together using her own magic. The skin is pink and wrinkled—it’s likely to leave a horrible scar. Yen doesn’t seem bothered by it in the least.
Triss frowns at her for a long moment, cradling Yen’s wrist as she inspects her work. “I think I can fix this,” she declares. She turns to the rest of them, who have merely been watching in dismay. Her eyes light on Eskel, softening when she sees him already stepping forward. “Take her bag, will you? Let’s get you cleaned up, Yen.”
Eskel hoists Yen’s discarded bag onto his back and follows the sorceresses into the corridor. 
“Ah,” Jaskier chirps at Geralt’s elbow, nearly startling him. He hadn’t noticed the bard rise and make his way to Geralt’s side, so rapt he was in Yen’s perplexing appearance. “Well, now I see why Triss was asked to be our healer instead of dear Yennefer.” He lifts his eyes coyly to Geralt’s, trying and failing to hide his laughter. “It appears she is, perhaps, short of a marble.”
⚘⚘⚘
Triss delivers a clean bill of health for Yen, both in body and mind. She managed to fix Yen’s shoddy healing magic, so now the scar will likely only be noticeable if one examines her arm closely.
It’s Yennefer herself who explains to Geralt what possessed her to take one of the most perilous journeys known to man. On foot. In the middle of winter. Alone.
“I am, gods help me, Geralt,” she mumbles into her fourth mug of ale later that night. “Soul-searching.”
Assuming she’s joking. Geralt frowns and sips his own ale carefully. “Who are you looking for?”
She snorts, unladylike and more than a little tipsy. “Myself.”
“The fuck does that mean?”
“It means, you daft old man—” She elbows him, spilling both their drinks in the process. “—that I’m turning over a new leaf. Trying to find what pleases me.”
“And what pleases you is hiking?”
“As it turns out, no.” Yen wrinkles her nose. “I don’t think I’m built for it.”
Geralt hums. “That’s the one thing you’ve said since you got here that makes any sense.”
He expects a rebuff for that, perhaps a wayward spell thrown his way, but Yennefer merely sighs. “I know. Not much is making sense to me these days.”
“Yen,” he begins softly. “You know no one expects you to change who you are.”
“I know, but I do.” She rises from the bench they’d been slouched on and begins pacing in front of him. Their companions, who had been chatting and singing snippets of songs back and forth in front of the fire, fall silent at her movement. She doesn’t seem to care. “I’ve done it twice now, changed who I am and what I want. Who’s to say I can’t do it again? I wasn’t suited to be a court mage, so I went rogue, started doing what I wanted. Then when that failed, I began searching for a way to undo the enchantments after my ascension. Now I’ve decided that particular dream makes no sense anymore. It wasn’t even that I wanted my womb back—I don’t know what I’d do with it if I managed to get it back. It was all about taking back control of my life. I’d never been able to make decisions for myself until now. I won’t tie myself to another lousy king or half-baked rebellion just because I’m bored and need something to keep me busy.”
Triss joins Geralt at his table, sliding into the spot Yen had vacated. “And what have you decided to do? You had a shop for a while. You could go back to that. You’ve made a name for yourself, and not just among the mages. I’m sure there are people all over the Continent who could—”
“Bugger that!” Yen throws up her hands then sets about rolling up her sleeves. She’s in another rugged set of trousers and a linen shirt, though they’re a touch nicer and a great deal cleaner than the ones she’d arrived in. At least these don’t have holes in them. “I was bored out my skull the whole time, waiting for something exciting to happen. I need action. I need adventure.”
“You could become a poet,” Jaskier adds, not at all subtle about the fact that he’s been eavesdropping from half the room away. “The pay is good, and I’m sure a woman such as yourself has stories to share.”
Geralt makes a face at that. “If you’ve heard her singing voice, you’d regret suggesting that, little lark.”
“Oi!” Yen snaps at him, but the corner of her mouth twitches. “But no, you’re right. I’d be a lousy bard.”
“Then what’s taken your fancy?” asks Triss.
Yen stops her pacing and sets her hands on her hips. She lifts her chin, violet eyes blazing in determination, and Geralt is reminded once again that this is not merely a woman having a crisis of faith, but one of the most powerful mages the Continent has ever seen. A force to be reckoned with, even soused and half-mad. If he were standing, he would take a step back.
“I’d like to be a witcher.”
Geralt blinks at her for a long time.
Triss sputters before finally getting out, “I beg your pardon?”
Yen meets Geralt’s eye and pushes on. “I’ve been thinking about it since the dragon hunt. I was misguided in my pursuits, but I enjoyed the process, nevertheless. And when we met on the road, with the blood—the blue—oh, what the hell is it?”
“Bloedzuiger,” all the witchers in the room reply at once.
“Right. Anyway, I nearly had it handled when you intervened—”
“You were about to poison an entire acre of woodlands and yourself along with it.”
“Perhaps.” She crosses her arms. “But it was nearly dead.”
Geralt can’t argue with that, so he huffs instead.
“And that’s not the first time I’ve fought beasts,” Yennefer goes on. “You and I fought together no fewer than a dozen times.”
“Only because you happened to be with me when trouble came.”
“And,” she presses on, ignoring Geralt’s remark. “I saved a young man from being eaten by a wyvern outside Kerack some months back.”
“Yennefer,” comes Vesemir’s reproach. Geralt relaxes when his father ambles up to their table, looking gruff and mildly concerned beneath his usual blank stare. “Our ability to make new witchers was lost decades ago. That knowledge died with our fathers. Surely you know this.”
Because it was the mages who brought about our end.
Yen uncrosses her arms and faces the old wolf with a straighter spine. “Of course I know that. I mean no offense, Vesemir. I don’t mean I want the mutagens. I’m aware the trials have been laid to rest.”
Aiden snorts from a table over, where he’s propping up a sleepy Lambert. “Thank the gods for that.”
Yen plunders on. “What I mean is I’d like to take up your profession. Join your ranks, if you’ll have me, train under you, learn all you know about monsters and the things that go bump in the night. Teach me how to fight.” A muscle flexes in her jaw. “How to protect people.”
“A witchering witch…” Jaskier muses from his nest of blankets. He taps his chin then scrambles for his notebook that’s been lost amongst his furs. “It sounds lovely, at least.”
“Mages have fought monsters before, out of necessity, but there’s a reason they always call us in to do the dirty work, Yen.” Geralt leans forward and braces his elbows on his knees. “And it is dirty work. It’s painful. Dangerous. You’re bound to lose more than a few nights’ sleep.”
Lambert, who is apparently not asleep, grunts, “And a limb or two, mos’ likely”
“I’ve weighed the risks,” says Yen. “I’ve traveled with you before, Geralt. I’ve fought alongside you. I’m strong and quick and capable, you know that. If you would only share with me your wisdom, imagine what could be done!” 
Geralt’s confusion about Yennefer’s motivations fades. There’s that wicked glint in her eye he remembers well. It’s the same one she’d worn while chanting over a jinn’s vessel and trying to take down a whole bloody dragon: she won’t stop until she gets what she wants. What she wants, this time, is apparently exactly what she’s saying. She wants to help people, to kill monsters, to bring things back into order. She wants control over her own life.
“I’ve never taught a woman before.” Vesemir says it as a statement of fact, not as an insult or a diminutive. He’s pondering the idea. He knows Yen is plenty capable. “It would be different from the training you lot did in your youth.”
Eskel speaks up for the first time, then. “I’ve trained women before.” He shares a look with Triss, who had left him at their table with a handful of cards and a raised brow that tells Geralt exactly how their game ended. “Or, one woman. Miss Merigold asked for some information on the gargoyles that kept infesting her garden.”
“Nasty little things,” she agrees quietly from beside Geralt.
“I taught her how to get rid of them,” says Eskel. “It wasn’t any different than when you taught us in the past, Ves.”
“Geralt’s taught me plenty over the years,” Yen says.
Geralt frowns at her. “I have?”
She merely rolls her eyes at him. “Do you really think I dealt with you for that long without picking something up?”
“It’s true!” Jaskier chirps. “You’re a very good educator when you want to be, dear heart.”
Geralt blushes at that, though no one without witcher senses can tell. He speaks before any of them can comment on it. “Forgive my bluntness, Yen, but how am I supposed to know you’re not going to get bored after a couple months? Decide you need some other occupation to fill your time? I heard how your foray into the arts ended.”
Yen sends a glare Triss’ way. “Yes, well it appears I haven’t found favor with the muses the way some have.” Even from across the room, Geralt can tell how flattered Jaskier is by that remark. “But I do have a knack for finding trouble. I wasn’t lying to you when we met weeks ago, Geralt. I was earnestly hunting for deer when that blue—blow—oh, give me a moment, I’ll get there. Bl—bloedzuiger. Ha! Yes, the bloedzuiger. It found me. I wasn’t looking for it.”
“That does make sense,” Vesemir muses. “Many monsters are drawn to chaos the same way others are drawn to large populations of people or animals. Everything preys on something.”
“So, they’re trying to eat my magic?”
The old witcher chuckles. “No. They merely see you as a potential source of energy. A guide, if you will.”
“Ah!” Jaskier heaves himself out of his chair and waddles over to Geralt, who makes room for him on his lap without question. The bard slips onto his favorite perch and wraps his arms around his witcher’s shoulders. “Like the little fish that hang on to bigger predators so they can eat the plants and whatnot that grow on them.”
Everyone blinks at his observation, save Triss, who snickers and shakes her head at him.
Geralt looks up from where he’s been watching Jaskier exchange a smile with Triss to find Vesemir looking at him. “Up to you, wolf,” his father tells him. 
“Me?”
Ves shrugs. “You know her the best out of all of us. She trusts you. I’ll bestow whatever wisdom I have, but her training will be yours to oversee.”
Geralt thinks it over for a long moment as Jaskier snuggles back into him. Some time ago, he would have said no straight away. But things have changed in recent years, he thinks to himself as Jaskier settles his head on Geralt’s shoulder and sighs, perfectly content where he is. And not just in his own life. Yennefer is a wholly different person than the one who left him on a mountain however long ago. Her motivations, her desires, her view of the world—they’ve all changed.
He looks at Yen. She’s already watching him, her brow furrowed and her hands clenching into fists at her hips. She’s nervous. She thinks he’ll say no.
He has every right to. She has a history of getting him into trouble. She never listens. She abandons him without notice.
Jaskier sighs again and presses a sleepy kiss to the underside of Geralt’s chin.
Geralt himself has changed since the mountain. He’d still been wallowing in his self-doubt and guilt over the situation with Yen, even though years had passed, when a rowdy little omega cornered him in Posada. He’d nearly forgotten about his heartbreak in the whirlwind of emotions Jaskier brought into his life.
If Geralt can change this much in a span of half a year, how much can Yennefer of Vengerberg change over a period of a few years if she set her mind to it?
“Fine,” Geralt says. He can tell by the way Yen’s spine relaxes and her scent—usually fruity and floral—spikes sweetly that she’d been preparing to be disappointed. “But I’ll only do it if you agree to trust me.”
She squints at him for a long moment before agreeing. “Alright. I trust you. You’re in charge.”
Eskel huffs softly. “Never thought I’d hear those words coming from you, Yen.”
She whips her head to glare at him, rankling once more. “Only in the manner of my training.”
“Not just that,” Geralt corrects. “If you’re going out on the Path with me, I need to know you will listen to me when I tell you something isn’t safe. I don’t need a liability, Yen, but I will take a partner.”
“Great,” Yen says. “Fine, I agree.”
“Well, now that’s all settled,” Jaskier butts in, lifting his head from Geralt’s shoulder. “I’d like to go to bed.” He turns wide, pleading eyes to Geralt, unsubtle in his seduction.
“I think we could all use some rest,” Vesemir declares. “It’s been an eventful day.”
Everyone makes vague sounds of agreement and begins making their way to the corridor.
“So,” Lambert pipes up from the back of the pack where Aiden is doing his best to drag him up to their room. “How much you wanna bet she wakes up with a hangover and absolutely no clue what she agreed to?”
⚘⚘⚘
“I’m just saying, dear heart,” Jaskier complains, his voice relatively even considering what Geralt’s up to. “If you were getting bored of traveling with me, you could’ve said so. You didn’t have to invite Yen to join the f-fun.”
“Yen’s getting nowhere near the fun,” Geralt growls, knowing when he does it makes Jaskier whine. Not that the omega needs much encouragement to whine, what with three of Geralt’s fingers inside him and his mouth gradually making a mess of his cock. He’s challenged himself to see how many times he can make his bard cum before he taps out—or passes out… whichever comes first. So far, he’s up to two, and Jaskier’s only trembling a little bit.
“There will hardly be time for thi­-this with her on the road with us.”
“There will be plenty of time for this,” Geralt insists, lifting his head to watch Jaskier’s eyes roll back when he crooks his fingers and strokes right up into his soft spot. He gushes around Geralt’s fingers. “Yen knows how to make herself scarce.”
Jaskier makes a vague sound of agreement through his moaning—though Geralt could be mishearing and that’s just another moan. He’s a bit distracted.
“And there will always be someone to watch the pup,” he adds, absently tipping his head to kiss the underside of Jaskier’s belly. “She’s surprisingly good with kids.”
“Sounds like you’re—you’re trying to sell me on her.”
“You brought it up.” Geralt travels back down and nudges the leaky head of his omega’s cock before slipping it into his mouth.
Jaskier’s hips jerk at the sudden sensation and his hands fly to Geralt’s hair, pulling him down until the tip of his cock is in his throat. “Ah! Fuck, Geralt.”
Geralt growls again in approval. He could genuinely spend all day here, listening to Jaskier moan, tasting his desperation, feeling his thighs shake beneath his hands. It would hardly be a chore to stay here. His cock, on the small side as omega cocks tend to be, barely hits Geralt’s throat even when his nose is pressed into the hair at the bottom of Jaskier’s tummy. His scent is stronger here, headier—not that Geralt needs help finding it. He’s not sure if it’s the bond between them, so strong even without a bite, or Jaskier’s hormones, but Geralt can quite literally sniff him out blindfolded and deaf.
It doesn’t make the effect here any less enthralling. Geralt finds his eyes fluttering shut as he takes Jaskier into his mouth again. The bard’s knees draw up as he does, fighting the intensity of his touch, but Geralt pins him back down and aims a nasty jab at his prostate as punishment.
Jaskier’s back snaps into a deep arch and he lets out a keen like a wounded animal. If anyone in the keep hears him, they’ll think something awful has befallen them.
Geralt can’t bring himself to care.
Let them come, he thinks. Let them see what I do to Jaskier, how I can please him better than anyone else ever could. Let them see he’s mine.
Geralt growls again. He can feel his baser instincts rising like a tide at the back of his mind, but he can’t tamp them down. Why would he? Here, in his nest, with his omega whining for his knot, he has nowhere he’d rather let his alpha side take over.
Jaskier yanks on his hair, panting, “Enough, enough. I need a moment.”
The alpha considers ignoring his request—he’s supposed to be taking care of his omega, giving him what he needs whether he thinks he needs it or not. But then he relents, lifting his head and gentling the crooking of his fingers. He’s glad he does, since the purr Jaskier huffs out is nearly soothing enough to make Geralt go cross-eyed.
“Gods,” Jaskier sighs, lapsing into a laugh at the tail end of his exhale. “You make me dizzy when you do that.” He lifts one hand from Geralt to run shaking fingers through his own hair, pushing the sweaty strands from his forehead.
Geralt eyes the head of Jaskier’s cock again—it twitches as he watches and lets out a little blob of translucent slick. He nearly ignores the omega’s plea and takes it back into his mouth again to taste it, but he turns his head and sinks his teeth into the meat of Jaskier’s thigh instead. The bard gasps but doesn’t stop him.
“Do you trust her?”
Geralt hums around the flesh in his mouth at the question.
Jaskier chuckles and tugs his witcher’s hair again, making him release his thigh. “Yennefer,” he clarifies smoothly. “Do you trust her? With me? With the pup?”
Geralt wraps his arms around Jaskier, pressing his cheek to his stomach. He can feel their heartbeats against his face like this—both Jaskier’s and the pup’s. They’re steady, even. Healthy.
“I do,” he says. “When we first met her on the road, I protected you from her because the last I’d seen her, she would do anything to have a child. Anything.” He doesn’t specify, but the tightening of Jaskier’s hand around the back of his neck is telling enough. “But that’s not this Yennefer. I’ve never seen her like this. She’s… searching for meaning, I think.” He turns his head to meet Jaskier’s eye again. “I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you about it before I agreed to train her.”
The bard is shaking his head before he can even finish. “No apology necessary. I knew you would say yes the second she asked.”
Geralt blinks. “You did?”
Jaskier nods, letting go of his own hair once again to stroke a finger down the bridge of Geralt’s nose, across his lips. His face is still flushed, his pulse still thrumming with arousal. But there’s something soft in his gaze Geralt was unused to in bed before Jaskier came along. Lusty stares and heated gazes, he had those. But not this—a wide-eyed look of adoration. It unlocks something inside him, nearly makes him want to weep.
“You are not a man who is meant to be alone, Geralt,” the omega says. “I know there’s history between you and Yennefer—don’t.” He stops Geralt when he goes to protest. “You don’t have to explain. I can see it. I know whatever affection you have for her doesn’t go beyond friendship. I could feel it if it did. It’s not the same way you feel about me.”
Geralt doesn’t have a response to that. It’s true, every word of it. He loved Yennefer, once. He loves her still. But even when Yennefer was the embodiment of all his desires, when her scent turned his head and set his pulse thrumming, it was never like it is with Jaskier. She didn’t steal his breath like Jask does. She was never the center of his world the way Jaskier is.
“You have history,” Jaskier repeats. “She knows you. You know her. Your brothers are too independent to work with you long-term. Vesemir has the keep to look after. You need someone by your side, Geralt. To fight on your team, to watch your back. And gods know I’m useless in a fight.” He pinches Geralt’s chin between his fingers, making sure he’s listening. “I need the father of my pup in one piece. And if that means we take on a stray who can watch your back and make sure you always come back to me, then I’ll do whatever I can to make this work.”
Geralt swallows. There’s a thought he’s been having, one too big and scary to spend much time on, one he’s afraid to even consider himself. It’s been nagging at him for months, since he left Jaskier in Oxenfurt and went back onto the Path. He’d been miserable. He’d been slow and distracted and itching for danger. He knows life on the Path isn’t suited for a child. He knows he will only be more distracted until one day, his love for his family costs him everything. He knows there are only two ways to keep them safe, to let them live normal lives.
One, he could leave them. Let them live out their days without him. Geralt would miss Jaskier, miss the pup like he’d miss a limb, but he would be fine. They would be fine. They would live and breathe and be far, far away from the kind of danger a witcher attracts.
Or.
Or.
What happens when a witcher decides he doesn’t want to be a witcher?
What if he decides he wants a home, a house, with a little garden and a stable and a lake nearby where they can swim and fish and take their child on walks? What if he decides to hang up his swords? To leave behind his creed, his brotherhood, for a man who will age and die while Geralt remains whole for decades more?
It's too much to fathom.
Geralt ducks his head again, taking Jaskier down his throat again with purpose.
Jaskier’s hands clench in surprise before finding Geralt’s hair again. Right where they belong.
Geralt doesn’t want to think about the future. He only wants this, right now. Jaskier’s hands in his hair, his ankles knocking against his back, his cock throbbing against his tongue every time he strokes his fingers against the spot inside him that makes him keen Geralt’s name like a one-word symphony.
Jaskier doesn’t press the conversation further.
Geralt gets two more orgasms out of him before the bard is fighting to keep his eyes open and pulling Geralt into his arms.
⚘⚘⚘
The snow returns in force the morning after Yennefer’s arrival.
Now solidly stuck for the winter, the occupants of Kaer Morhen settle into a new routine. They all rise whenever they please; though for Vesemir and Eskel that’s sometime around dawn, and for Jaskier—and Geralt, by extension—it’s closer to midmorning. Geralt ignores his brothers’ pointed looks when he and Jaskier make their appearance after everyone else has gotten up and dressed and eaten breakfast. He can’t be bothered too much, since Jaskier has taken to apologizing for keeping Geralt in bed with his mouth around the witcher’s cock.
So what if he has to lay awake for a few hours before Jaskier finally unsticks himself from his side?
After they’ve all eaten, Triss and Jaskier take to the library and the witchers—which now includes Yennefer, bizarrely—take up residence in the Great Hall, where they make use of the empty space beyond the tables to spar.
Geralt dives head-first into Yennefer’s training. She’s halfway competent with a sword, but she’ll need much more training to handle herself against any monsters. But she’s quick and hard to hit. She manages to land a few blows with a blunted blade to Aiden’s side before he can spin and put her to the floor.
There’s no use in teaching her signs. Her magic is plenty enough help in a fight. But she insists she learns how to fight without her magic, which her sparring partners readily agree to. Witchers are strong, and their signs are powerful in their own right (Eskel’s especially so) but if Yen decided to unleash all the chaos at her disposal, even Geralt would have issues keeping up with her.
“I’ve been separated from my magic before,” she explains one day, with a grim look on her face that keeps Geralt from prying. “I’d like to know how to defend myself if it ever happens again.”
Geralt doesn’t argue.
Yennefer is just as stubborn a student as he thought she would be. They learned quickly that she only responds well to criticism if it comes from Geralt, who knows her well enough to know she’s capable of more, and Vesemir, who she respects more than Geralt has ever known her to respect anyone—save, perhaps, Tissaia de Vries.
Her aim in life may have changed, but her temper is exactly as Geralt remembers it.
“Perhaps you should reconsider taking her under your wing,” Jaskier tells him several days into her training. He’s frowning hard enough for a line Geralt’s never seen to appear between his eyebrows and he’s practically in Geralt’s lap on one of the benches in the Great Hall. Yennefer had headbutted Geralt and split his lip. Jaskier had nearly fainted when he saw it. He frowns as he dabs the blood from Geralt’s face. “If this is her response to criticism.”
Geralt snorts and doesn’t mention the fact that Yennefer quite literally stabbed him once when he questioned her methods of gathering intelligence. “It’ll be fine,” he assures Jaskier. “I’ve known Yennefer longer than you’ve been alive. Trust me, if I think it’s too much, I’ll back out before she can cause any permanent damage.”
He can tell by the quirk of his lips that Jaskier knows he’s kidding about the permanent damage bit, but his scent is still sour.
Geralt tips his head forward to knock his forehead delicately against the bard’s. “Trust me, little lark,” he purrs. “It’ll take more than an angry sorceress to take me from you.”
Jaskier’s eyes flash and his scent turns smoky in an instant. He drops the cloth he’d been using to wipe off Geralt’s face on and crushes their lips together. Geralt grunts in surprise and at the sting from his split lip, but he wraps his arms around Jaskier’s waist, holding him as he returns his fervor.
“Perhaps I should have chosen another teacher,” a miffed voice declares somewhere nearby. “If my current one is so distracted.”
Geralt merely releases Jaskier with one hand to show Yennefer exactly where she can shove her remark, but Jaskier pulls away with a red-cheeked snort. “My mistake! Simply wanted to ensure the father of my child is unharmed by your lessons.”
Yen rolls her eyes and puts her hands on her hips. “I’ll go easy on your old man,” she tells Jaskier, then nods at Geralt. “You ready to go again?”
Geralt nods before pressing a kiss to Jaskier’s cheek and rising. “I’ll see you at dinner?”
Jaskier nods and lets him go.
Once they’re out of Jaskier’s earshot, she points to Geralt’s lip. “I am sorry about that.”
“It’s already closing. Witcher healing, and all that.”
“But still.” She picks up her practice sword and tosses Geralt his own. He takes it, tests its weight in his hand. It’s not as well-balanced as the swords he uses, but it’s close enough. Besides, it won’t make any difference sparring with Yen. “I’ll try to be more careful.”
Careful. Geralt nearly snorts at the idea until he catches the scent of her worry. Careful and worried are not two words he ever thought he would associate with Yennefer of Vengerberg.
“You’ll see worse if you stick to this, I’m afraid.” He raises his sword and plants his feet. “Remember what I said about keeping your core tight. Your lunges are messy and poorly aimed. If you pivot from the hips—”
There’s a soft thud back at the tables and Geralt bristles at once. Yen’s eyes go wide as she gazes over his shoulder, and she’s moving past him before he can even fully turn.
Jaskier has collapsed in a heap of furs half a step from the bench Geralt left him on.
And he’s not moving.
Previous Part / Next Part
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spacedimentio · 2 years ago
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I posted 3,819 times in 2022
That's 1,392 more posts than 2021!
16 posts created (0%)
3,803 posts reblogged (100%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
@/strawberriandromeda
@/camprell-art
@/princess-of-anons
@/fullmoonfireball
@/shootysturs
I tagged 3,252 of my posts in 2022
Only 15% of my posts had no tags
#q - 2,969 posts
#su - 540 posts
#smb - 510 posts
#spm - 456 posts
#dr - 449 posts
#luigi - 371 posts
#okko - 266 posts
#dimentio - 263 posts
#spamton - 248 posts
#hnk - 188 posts
Longest Tag: 136 characters
#good shit go౦ԁ shit thats some good shit right there right there if i do ƽaү so my self i say so thats what im talking about right there
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
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11 notes - Posted December 23, 2022
#4
Super Smash Bros Melee also refers to Luigi as the Man in Green, do with that what you will
The man in green, Luigi, is ready for action! - unlock message
24 notes - Posted February 27, 2022
#3
Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Super Mario & Related Fandoms, Mario & Luigi RPG (Video Games), Mario & Luigi: Superstar Saga Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Luigi/Mamekku Ouji | Prince Peasley Characters: Luigi (Nintendo), Mamekku Ouji | Prince Peasley, Various Background Characters Additional Tags: PDA, Mild Embarrassment, Non-derogatory Pet Names, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, New Year's Eve, Midnight Kiss, Romance, Holidays, Slice of Life, -points at Peasley’s flying bean- is dog, didn’t get a chance to show it much but Daisy is Luigi’s BFF and Peasley’s friend, Bowser was invited because I said so Series: Part 1 of Real Luisley Hours Summary:
On the last day of the year, Luigi and his beloved celebrate with friends and each other. With winter fun and midnight kisses, they contemplate the hopeful future ahead of them. Also available on Fanfiction.net, Deviantart, and Wattpad
26 notes - Posted January 23, 2022
#2
Wait a minute... Undyne doesn’t believe Kris when they try to tell her about the Dark World and laughs in their face so hard that she breaks her desk. So they do something to lure the police over to their house by slashing the tires, then make a Dark World themself after learning from Queen that it might be possible for any Lightner to do so. And they did it before the police get there so that they’ll stumble into it.
I always found the gap of time between Toriel calling the police and her falling asleep before they get there odd as it’s a little town so it shouldn’t take that long, and it doesn’t seem as if they came before she fell asleep. Could be busy trying to recatch all those dogs. Maybe Kris is aware that Toriel falls asleep quickly while reading, they even opened the door so that the police could come in. One hole in this idea is, how would they know that Susie would pass out fast too? Might not have been part of the plan but an opportunity they took.
Not sure why they turned on the TV to static, possibly to give the new Dark World something to latch onto as regular living room furniture might not be enough. (Now that I’m thinking about it, all the items that have turned into characters so far are things that children and people touch and interact with using their imagination, like toys, computers, and TVs.)
Is this all to show Undyne and others that something dangerous is happening so they’ll be believed? I’m like, 90% sure that Kris is not The Knight and their intentions aren’t bad.
36 notes - Posted February 13, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
The easiest way to explain Bowser’s height differences in each game is if he’s a sizeshifter, send post 
622 notes - Posted December 20, 2022
Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →
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greer-morgan · 10 months ago
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“Of course,” Louise smiled at Mahlon as Leighton took the flowers. “Another victor, lucky us. And from… Twelve, if I’m remembering right? Congratulations on your recent victory.” The words were polite, though the emphasis was placed on all the wrong ones, like there had been effort expended just to produce a sentence like that. “And call me Louise. Mrs. Morgan just makes me feel like an old woman.”
Greer, on the other hand, was still working to process Leighton pecking her cheeks. “When have I ever given a shit about the color of the dinin’ room?” She snapped, which earned a glare from her mother. “Fine,” Greer answered, rolling her eyes. They had to go out there to eat anyway. “Where’s Cal?” She asked, and to her relief her mother answered, “He couldn’t make it. He’s out of town on business.” Greer didn’t know what that could possibly mean, and she didn’t ask. And just before she had the chance to ask where the youngest two Morgan siblings were, she heard their footsteps on the stairs.
“G!” Avery-Kate called, bounding to the bottom of the staircase. “You actually showed.” And turning to Sadie behind her she added, “You lose, and I expect the money in my room by tomorrow.” Avery-Kate crossed the room to wrap Greer in a hug, and this was the first one that didn’t come with an added spike of anxiety. She hadn’t seen Avery-Kate like this since the youngest sister was twelve, and now she was a full adult starting college-- the same height as Greer. “Hey, G,” Sadie was next to pull Greer into a hug, but this one was shorter, more telling that she knew how uncomfortable this dinner was going to be and already trying not to end up on one side or another. “Y’all, this is Mahlon, and Mahlon, this is Avery-Kate,” Greer gestured to each of them as she went. “and Sadie, but we all call her Teeny. Have since she was born.” It was one of those things that no one could quite trace back to its start but had stuck around anyway. “I feel like we should’a made name tags.” Avery-Kate quipped with a small laugh, before the group started migrating to the dining room.
Greer let her family shuffle into the dining room, but she hung back with Mahlon-- not quite ready to cross what felt like a point of no return. Aside from her brother, who hadn't bothered to show, there was only one person left to introduce Mahlon to, and it was the person she was dreading most of all. "Nah, I lied. I think this is our last chance to run," she whispered. Her own self-preservation had kicked in enough to include herself in the running this time. "Or at least we oughta come up with a safe word, in case one more conversation 'bout the fashion choices in the last tribute parade are gonna put either of us over the edge." She hoped that would be the worst of it, anyway.
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@mxhlon
"An' miss out on all the fun? In your dreams," Mahlon snorted, though he was trying really fucking hard not to be himself tonight. He'd dressed for the occasion, like they were going to some bougie Capitol affair, with his hair combed back and his jaw shaven, and his mouth washed out with soap to keep it as clean as he could manage. Language, he heard Hestia hiss, and it kept him from devolving into a cursing fit.
He was holding a bouquet of wildflowers, ones they'd grown in Greer's garden, and of them he was immensely proud. But he was nervous. No one had ever brought him home before, and he'd be lying if he tried to pretend he wasn't on guard. These were important people (if anyone could be important in Panem beyond Nerissa). Important to the district. Important to Greer's life. Mahlon didn't care what people thought about him most of the time, but he wanted them to approve. He wanted to be enough, for once in his life.
"Oh, we're jus' gonna...?" Yep, they were just walkin' in. He followed, taking in the scene. The home, nicer than any in Twelve, even the those that had once stood in Victor's Village. His eyes raked across the pictures on the walls, the art, the curtains. It was all too curated, all too fine. He was worried to breathe near any of it.
And when Greer's mother appeared, he swallowed hard, straightening up, smiling like he wasn't the horrid being everyone knew him to be.
Mom, this is Mahlon. Mahlon, this is my mother.
"Mrs. Morgan, thank you for havin' me," he offering out his hand, then wavering, offering out the bouquet. "I, uh, brought these for you. Would you like me to put these in some water? Anythin' we can help with?"
@leightonmorgan
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randomshyperson · 4 years ago
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Wanda Maximoff x Reader - If You Asked Me To  (Special)
Part One Here || AO3
Summary: Prompt request “ Modern AU Wanda x Female Reader with the song If You Asked Me To by Angeline Quinto? Where basically Wanda and R are in this middle area of not being official and on and off relationship because Wanda has had shitty ex’s that have cheated on her.” // Special Smut request from “If You Asked Me To”
Words: 1.496 K
Warnings: +18, Pure Smut.
Tags:  @mionemymind / @abimess / @stephanieromanoff / @yourtaletotell / @tomy5girls / @justagaypanicking / @thegayw1tch
//-//
Carol called you two minutes after you sent her a text.
"Please explain." She spoke impatiently as soon as you answered, making you laugh slightly.
You told her that you had come to terms with Wanda, and that things happened the right way now. Carol was silent for a moment.
"Damn, I hope you're right, honey." She said on the other end of the line. "I just want you to be happy."
"That's sweet." You joked and she laughed. "Anything new out there?"
"Yes, actually." She said with slight irony and you heard a loud noise in the call. "Natasha just threw a pillow at me, sorry about that."
You laugh with confusion.
"What happened?"
You heard Natasha yell at Carol to mind her own business in the background of the call and started to get curious.
"Our friend was dumped and is crying in the corners... Let go of me, you psycho!" Carol's voice grew distant from the call and you began to laugh, imagining that they were fighting. 
A moment later, Natasha was the one on the other end.
"I am declaring that I will never date again in my life, okay?" She announces and you laugh, imagining that the noise in the background was Carol, trying to get loose.
"Please don't kill my friend." You ask humorously and Nat lets out an impatient sigh, probably struggling to keep Carol off the phone. "Ask her to call me later."
You say before hanging up. Throwing the cell phone on your bed, you bite your lips, wondering what to do. Wanda was having some stupid test that keeps your hands off her, so you were waiting.
You decided to try to watch something, and you chose a comedy series.
Many minutes later, the door to your dormitory opened.
"Hey, your girlfriend is coming." Darcy warned and you blinked in surprise at her sudden appearance, but Dary was already throwing her backpack on the bed, and leaving the room and then Wanda came in next, closing and locking the door.
"Hi..." You started to say hello but your speech died when Wanda threw her purse on the floor and pulled her blouse off over her head in one motion. "Damn." 
You gasped in surprise as she quickly approached, and you moved your laptop out of the way placing it in the closet next to you. Wanda sat on your lap, kissing you intensely.
"God, I missed that." She gasps breathlessly between kisses. You smile, letting your hands move up to her breasts, and making her moan when you squeeze her nipples over her bra.
"Are you in a hurry, honey?" You tease as you feel her pull your shirt up, but you don't stop her from removing the piece next. Wanda smiles, biting her lips, and you raise your hand to her neck, tilting it to the side so that you have better access to her collarbone. Wanda sighs as you lick and suck her skin, beginning to move against your lap. 
Wanda felt so good and hot against you, you couldn't wait until she was fully undressed to run your fingers down the bundle of her pants, and then slip through her panties, making her moan loudly and throw her head back.
"So wet." You whispered against the skin of her neck, moving up her face to kiss her again as your finger caressed her swollen clitoris superficially. Wanda whimpered, forcing her hips down, and you gave her exactly what her body was asking for.
Penetrating your finger as deep as you could while your thumb played with her clitoris, you slipped your tongue into her mouth as she moaned breathlessly, kissing her with passion.
When you set a rhythm to move in and out along with Wanda's hips, she could barely keep up with the kiss, panting and breathless as she rode your fingers.
"That's it, baby, right there." She moaned against his lips. "So good."
The next time you pulled out of her, you inserted in second finger, and Wanda broke the kiss into a loud moan, shuddering and sinking her head against your collarbone, making you smile at how hot and tight she was.
"Damn, Wanda, you feel so good." You sigh against her ear, and she whimpers as you press your thumb into her clitoris, the back and forth movements never stopping.
"I... I'm close." She whimpers as she tightens her fingers on your shoulder, her nails digging into your skin. You smiled, feeling the same way. Wanda's pussy tightening in your fingers as she tried to keep the rhythm of her hips. You continued to stimulate her clitoris as you whispered in her ear, "That's my sweet girl. Come for me, kitten."
Two deep strokes was enough to bring Wanda to the edge, and she came on your fingers next, throwing her head back and arching her back, her mouth open as she moaned loudly your name.
You smiled feeling Wanda's warm liquid on your fingers as she tried to normalize her own breathing and stop shaking. You raised your free hand to her face, lifting her chin gently and making her look up at you.
You steal a few quick kisses, waiting for Wanda to be able to reciprocate. When she pursued your face, you bit her lower lip, sucking before releasing and making her moan.
"Ride my face." You commanded in a husky voice and she gasped, nodding afterwards. You pulled away only to lie back, and Wanda moved on top of you until your pussy was at mouth height. 
Wanda sighed as your tongue reached her clit again, leaning her hands on the headboard and closing her eyes.
You used your hands to hold her thighs open and began licking and sucking her wet pussy, intoxicating yourself with the smell and taste.
"Fuck." Wanda whimpered on top of you, throwing her head back and forcing herself down. You kept stroking as deep as you could, and licking back. "Right there, baby." She moaned. " Don't stop."
The sounds Wanda was making were also pushing you to your limits. Her taste, her smell. You could feel the tightness in your own core increase as Wanda rubbed against your face, whimpering and moaning your name. You shuddered breathlessly, moaning against her cunt, realizing how close you were, and the vibration was enough to bring Wanda to orgasm, and she whimpered loudly pushing hard against the headboard.
"Fuck!" She cried out as she collapsed, using the support to keep from falling completely against you. You smiled against her folds, drinking her juices.
Her legs were trembling as she tried to get off you, so you helped her to lie down again.
She sighed when you kissed her next, feeling her own taste on your tongue.
"Are you tired, baby?" You asked leaning your foreheads together as you lay down next to her, Wanda moved forward again, kissing you slowly.
"Yes, but I'm not done with you yet." She whispers against your lips, moving forward to be on top.
You smile against her lips, having no intention of protesting.
//-//
Wanda was not kidding.
You fell panting against the mattress after coming for the third time in a row, unable to feel your legs as your girlfriend collapses on top of you, affected by her own orgasm.
You sighed when she brought your mouths together again and you were almost ready for another when a knock on the door caught your attention.
"Girls please, it's been four hours!" Shouted Darcy from the other side of the door, and you and Wanda exchanged a look before letting out a giggle.
Wanda moved against you, searching the room for your clothes. She ended up putting on your T-shirt and one of your sweatpants, and you grabbed a jacket that was lying on the nightstand.
"You can come in, Darcy," You prompted next, covering your waist with the blanket as Wanda lay down beside you.
"God, this room smells like sex." She complains lightly and you laugh as Wanda lies against your chest and sinks her face into your neck. "Did you guys even drink water?"
Wanda giggles against your skin, finding your colleague's irritation amusing as you assure her that you two are doing just fine.
Darcy checks her watch.
"I don't know if you forgot, but we have the last Modern period now" She tells you and you sigh.
"Shit, it's true." You say and Wanda tightens her arms around you, making you smile. "You think you can cover for me?"
Darcy looks at the two of you for a moment and then rolls her eyes with amusement.
"Yeah, but you'll owe me" She says with a smile and you agree laughing slightly. "Drink some water for god's sake girls" She warns with amusement before leaving the room making you both laugh lightly.
You snuggle up against Wanda, feeling her relax against your body. It doesn't take long for you both to fall asleep.
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existslikepristin · 3 years ago
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Impromptu Review
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Thanks for editing this one goes to momirene and Worldsover, and for helpful beta reading feedback from them and one dork who wants to remain anonymous.
Tags: TheLounge, Red Velvet, SNSD (Girl's Generation), Joy, Sunny, loneliness, potential traumatization of cats, a hoard of hell-themed sex toys, a strap on, a butt plug with Jiu's face in it, and bisexual problems.
The front door of Sunny’s apartment swung open so fast that Joy felt a breeze from the vacuum it left behind.
“Joy! You’re here!”
Joy blinked. “Yeah, I said I would come over.”
“It’s been so long since we’ve met up! Come in, come in!”
“It’s only been like a month though.”
Sunny grabbed Joy’s hands and pulled her through the doorway. “It feels like so much longer than that!”
Joy smiled and took her shoes off in the entryway. “You seem more excited than usual.”
“What? How so?”
“Well for one,” Joy said, pointing at the kitchen, “It looks like you prepared for a whole party in here.”
The kitchen’s island was covered in plates of snacks and several variations of alcoholic beverages. Additionally, Sunny was noticeably sweaty, like she had just run around the house preparing for guests. Joy figured it would be best not to bring that up.
“What? No. That? That’s… yeah, that’s a lot of food, isn’t it?” Sunny’s posture drooped, as if she’d already expended all of her energy on her greeting.
Joy pulled her into a side hug. Her height served to straighten Sunny back up. “What’s going on, girl?”
Sunny sighed and leaned her head on Joy’s chest. “I dunno. I’m just excited. Haven’t had a good social night any time recently.”
“Aw! But what about these cutie kitties?”
Sogeum popped her head out from behind the wall and gave Joy her signature droopy, grim stare without so much as a meow. As soon as Joy shuffled in her direction though, she turned and went back into the living room.
“Well, you know. Can’t really have a real conversation with the cats.”
Joy hummed her agreement and stepped into the kitchen. “I’m always happy to talk to you Sunny. They don’t call SM a family for nothing.”
Sunny groaned, loudly.
“Um. Okay,” Joy said when Sunny didn’t elaborate. “Not a family? Just a bunch of really close friends?”
“Yeah, that’ll work better. Not a fan of the family motif.”
Joy picked up a cracker and chomped down. “Gonna… explain? Family is normally a positive thing, isn’t it?”
Sunny grabbed a bottle of wine and yanked the cork out. “Yeah, totally, for sure. Hey, do you like Chardonnay?”
“I…” Joy didn’t want to skirt around whatever issue Sunny was having, but was well-aware of her stubbornness. “I sure do.”
As fancy glasses of white wine were generously poured, Joy made note of Sunny’s slow, unsteady movements. She worried that perhaps Sunny had already started drinking, or wasn’t getting enough sleep.
* * *
“Can you believe that, Joy?”
“No way. It’s just inhuman.”
“Completely! It’s not like green onions are suddenly more expensive to dry out!”
The conversation had started with gossip and cheese snacking when the sun was high. As the sun set, the discussion shifted to the price of instant meals, and the snack plates were all but empty. Joy had to fight the constant urge to fall asleep, as the topics were never much more interesting than that. But she let Sunny lead the talking as much as possible.
Joy was simply relieved that Sunny called her over before diving into her liquor storage. “You should start a petition to regulate the price. I’d be the first to sign it.”
Sunny’s tipsy grin matched Joy’s. Though the alcohol consumption had been slow-going, they had been doing it for several hours. “Oh that would be great press. ‘Washed up idol upset with ramen manufacturers.’”
With an exaggerated roll of the eyes, Joy pointed at a set of boxes in the corner of the living room, currently being used as a lookout tower by Sogeum. “You’re not washed up yet. Look at all of those sponsor gifts. Those weren’t here last time I came over… Wait, they weren’t, were they?”
Sunny giggled. “No, they’re, uh… new.”
Their corporate sponsors weren’t something that Joy, Sunny, or any of the other SM idols discussed often. There were usually so many vying for their attention that it was pointless trying to keep track. But Joy reasoned, somewhat drunkenly, that talking about it might be therapeutic to someone so down on their social status. “Who are they from, anyway?”
A blush deepened the red of Sunny’s already tipsy-glowing cheeks. “Uh… Nobody. Just a regular sponsor, ya know?”
Joy grinned. “Oh, come on. You can tell me. What am I gonna do? Call a press conference to tell the tabloids who’s contributing to your paycheck?”
Sunny rolled her eyes. She shot off the couch, spilling a drop or two of her wine in the process. From Joy’s naturally higher perspective, Sunny didn’t seem that much taller. “Fine,” she said, wobbling, “but you better not make fun of me.”
“I’ll make fun of you for other reasons, like how much I love you, bitch!” Joy blinked at her own shouting. She didn’t know when the alcohol had hit her, but she was beginning to think that she was a little more intoxicated than she previously thought.
Thankfully, the joviality in her voice seemed to encourage Sunny to play along. She set her wine on the coffee table and picked one of the smaller boxes off of the pile. “Disclosure first! We haven’t agreed to any deals yet. They sent me this stuff to try to convince me to shill it. I didn’t reach out to them.”
Joy waved the disclosure off like a mosquito, but Sunny still tossed the box in her direction. The weight inside of it was awkwardly distributed. Joy attempted to catch it, but it wound up ricocheting off the tips of her fingers and nearly knocking over an open, mostly full bottle of soju.
“The fuck is in this thing?”
“I’ve got some ideas but I just know who it’s from. Open it and find out.”
Joy tore into the box with no regard for the care that went into the packaging, which itself was surprisingly discreet. A smirk cracked her lips when she thought about what sorts of deliveries required such discretion. But the smirk faded right away when she got a view of the inside and realized that the packager apparently had the same idea.
Inside was a pair of plastic sheets wrapped asymmetrically around a roughly water bottle sized blob of blood red silicone. A small bit of pink cardboard advertised it as a five-speed, rotation-simulating, self-cleaning, pattern-switching, USB-charging, automatically-lubricating, remote-controlled vibrator with a speaker at the bottom for replicating a set of desired moans and a specialized charging dock.
Joy cleared her throat and stared at the horrifically fancy dildo, and its label, “Dante’s Dive,” unsure if she should toss it back to Sunny, considering it was clearly a personal item.
Sunny reached into what was left of the box, procuring a pretty little decorated card. “Dear Ms. Lee, we at Second Ring Inc were very pleased to hear your impromptu review of our products on a recent episode of ‘Welp, I Guess We’re Talking About This Now’ and wished to send you some additional items to show our appreciation. These are in no way a request for further public review,” Sunny was briefly interrupted by Joy’s disapproving snort, “but should you be interested in a partnership, we have included a phone number at which I, the chief executive officer, Lee Youngjoon, may be reached. Optionally, my username--”
Joy missed a few words as she was shocked by the extreme sound emitted by the vibrator when she pushed a button on the remote control.
“--is ‘worldsover’. As you know, Second Ring specializes in sexual wellness products, of which we’ve sent you a wide variety. They can be enjoyed by couples, or can serve as a fantastic outlet for power singles like yourself…”
Sunny trailed off. Joy was afraid she knew what was coming. “Damn, Sunny. You say so much as three words on national television and they scramble to get right up on your ass, eh?”
It was too late. Sunny was already tipping up the bottom of the soju bottle. A few drops spluttered back out of her mouth as Joy pushed it back down. “Sunny! You’ve said it yourself! You don’t want to get married!”
“Doesn’t mean I’m not still lonely!”
Joy wrapped her arms around Sunny. “You’ve got me. And a million other friends!”
“Fans don’t count.” Sunny’s voice was partially muffled by Joy’s shoulder.
“Ouch. Time for me to delete my Sone club membership. But fine. A hundred other friends. It’s not just me. It’s my members. Your members. And plenty of others. All of NCT would be--Okay, nevermind. Aespa though! They love you too.”
“But I don't want to inconvenience you." Sunny ended so matter-of-factly that Joy had to pause to process the short conversation.
"You know how… You know how you take a road trip, and there's a road block, or really bad construction, and you have to take a detour?"
"Yeah. I'm a detour."
"Come on, Sunny. What you are is the scenic route!”
There was a long silence.
“Was that the end of the metaphor?” Sunny eventually asked.
“I am very drunk.”
“You’re not that drunk.”
“Drunk enough to be shit at metaphors.”
“It’s…” Sunny extricated herself from Joy’s hug. “It’s okay. I think I know what you’re getting at, and I appreciate it. It’s just that a few words don’t really fix a brain, you know?”
Joy nodded slowly, watching as Sogeum casually stalked across the room. “Yup. But believe me. I’m here for you, at least. So if you need a friend, or some company, I’m at the top of your list.”
The cat plopped herself on the floor, right up against Sunny’s leg. Joy giggled. “Fuck off, kitty. I just said I was the top.”
It seemed the topic of conversation was ready to change. Sunny smiled, and it was enough to indicate her understanding.
“So!” Joy moved things along. “A pile of free, top of the line sex toys in your living room. What’s a young woman to do about that?”
Sunny snorted. “Well I’m not going to masturbate while I have company over, that’s for sure.” She grabbed another box from the pile and handed it over, doing her best not to disturb Sogeum’s new resting place.
The new box took mere seconds to open, this time revealing a black silicone butt plug with a red gem in the base. The casing suggested that a picture could be inserted beneath the gem, and it appeared there was one already there as an example. Joy had to flip it around to a variety of angles before she could make out that it contained a headshot of Dreamcatcher’s Jiu making finger hearts on her cheeks. She cocked her head, wondering if the image had actually been authorized.
Another box swapped between the womens’ hands. It took Joy a little longer to open than the last, but it turned out to be that way for a good reason, given that it was gently holding some fragile cargo: A red-tinted glass bottle of lube, labeled as “Juice from the Fruit of The Tree.” The lengthy product title had a snake winding through the letters.
“Well now they’re just really doubling down on this theme, aren’t they?” Sunny asked as she worked out how to open the next package, using her bottle opener as a makeshift knife.
Joy laughed and picked up yet another, now eager to see what kind of wild object it would contain. “Yeah, they really are! No lie, they’re starting to give me some ideas. Talk about sinful.”
“‘Oh I know,’” Sunny mocked the company, as SM artists often did, fingers still struggling to find their way under the first cardboard flap. “‘Let’s send Sunny a whole pile of sex junk. Bet she’s sinful enough to use it all.’ Like, come on Love-eye, or whatever your name is. What’s a single woman gonna do with all this? Hold up a pillow fort?”
“Hey, maybe he doesn’t know you’re single. Maybe there’s some stuff in here that takes two to tangle with… Fuck. Choerry’s got me using alliterations.”
Sunny barely managed to get her fingers inside the box, but her knuckles were turning white from the tightness of it. It seemed that she had left a portion of the packing tape uncut. “I said I was single on the show, though. I don’t think there will be any couples’ toys in here.”
“Oooh, I’m gonna make it a bet now.” Joy smirked. Her next sentence bypassed her verbal filter through the holes left in it by the alcohol. “If you get that thing open and there’s a strap on inside, you have to fuck me with it!”
A jerk of her arms snapped the remainder of the packing tape. Sunny chuckled. “You’re on. There’s no way it is.”
Joy had to admit that Sunny had a point, considering how small the package was. Surely it couldn’t fit a series of leather straps, or a dildo any larger than a couple of inches in any direction. The little voice in the back of her mind that told her making such an offer was stupid quieted down somewhat.
There was a moment of quiet. Sogeum rolled away from Sunny and made her way to the kitchen. Joy picked up another box, confident that she hadn’t just placed herself in an awkward situation. Sunny shook her head, amused. And then…
“J-Joy?”
Joy looked back, but wasn’t quite sure what she was looking at. It was a sort of mass of black string with some silver discs hanging off of it. Another piece of pink paper fluttered to the floor, where Joy picked it up and read aloud.
“‘The Obol.’ As Charon ferried Dante across the Styx and into the hole that is Hell, so too shall this state-of-the-art magnetic harness ferry our exclusive Dante’s Dive dildo into your… partner’s hole…”
There was more to be read, but both women seemed to get the point. The only sound in the room came from Sogeum chomping through some hard cat food in the kitchen. Slowly, their eyes raised and met. They both spoke at the same moment.
“That was a bet’s a joke bet right?”
Their drunken minds needed a moment to detangle their words into distinct sentences. Sunny’s “That was a joke, right?” and Joy’s “A bet’s a bet.”
Sunny started again first. “You know, we don’t have to.”
“I will if you want to.”
Every sentence being exchanged was followed by a palpable stillness. Joy’s heart beat loudly in her own ears, and she swore she could hear Sunny’s too.
“Do you… want to fuck me with that, Sunny?”
Sunny answered instantly. “Yup.”
There was a flurry of action, though it was slowed here and there by a tipsy stumble or two. Sunny gathered up an armful of the items on her coffee table, both sex toys and the bottle of soju, and sprinted for the bedroom. Joy rushed after her, messily attempting and failing to remove some of her clothes on the way.
Sogeum was spooked by the sudden kerfuffle and fled out of sight.
The bedroom was no less hectic. Sunny dropped everything on the bed except the soju, which she took one more swig of directly from the bottle before setting it dangerously close to the edge of her desk. She wiggled out of her shirt and bra, which attracted Joy’s attention instantly.
Joy struck at Sunny’s cleavage, wrapping her fingers as far as they could go around the legendary orbs, and her lips around one of the budding tips. Their differences in height made it awkward, but they very soon found their way to a horizontal state that eased that tension. Unfortunately, it was not on the bed, but on the floor, but they weren’t about to let something like that stop them.
What clothes they were still wearing exploded off their bodies. Joy’s shorts and shirt, Sunny’s pants and socks. All of it ended up in different sections of the room, thrown under and over furniture.
Joy was no stranger to encounters like this, and neither was Sunny. They had shared countless stories with each other… and some spit. But neither had considered their prior make out sessions to be precursors to explicitly sexual action. For her part, however, Joy considered this one differently, and Sunny’s hands searching half-blindly for Joy’s ass confirmed to her that Sunny thought the same.
Backs arched. Legs ground against one another. Open mouths met, trading the alcoholic scents that the women no longer cared to distinguish. Their minds had devoted themselves entirely to the search for physical pleasure.
A lot of exploratory prodding led Sunny’s fingers to the entrance to Joy’s pussy, failing to notice the number of pokes that ended up at Joy's exit. She took some time familiarizing herself with the drenched outer folds.
Joy, however, noticed the poking at her ass. Her mind swam with serotonin, thoughts of other people, and alcoholic fumes that seemed to rearrange the letters of her thoughts into nonsense. Or possibly into inspiration.
Inspiration relevant to the happenings at the prior year's award shows, that is.
Joy tried to pull back the moment Sunny’s fingers dipped inside her. She had opened her mouth to speak but instead groaned and arched herself further into Sunny’s grip on her sanity. "S-Sunny. B-bed."
At least that message was received loud and clear. Sunny dragged her fingers against Joy’s G-spot as she, disappointingly, pulled them out, nearly causing Joy to scream. The same fingers plunged into Joy’s mouth and quieted her as she diligently sucked her own juices from them.
The action transferred to the bed. Fingers immediately found their places again, and Joy bounced on her back in time with Sunny’s brutal shoves. Packaging bounced all around them. It was like a desperate, distracted game of Vegetable Shinobi for Joy, swiping at the jumping dildo. Sunny’s fingers were divine, eye-wateringly so, but Joy wanted something unholy.
Sunny muttered Joy’s name, catching her attention again. She lifted her head to meet for yet another imprecise kiss. Their legs twisted around each other. Joy could hear the desperation in Sunny’s moans, vibrating all the way down her throat, burning like the alcohol. She snaked a hand between them and found Sunny’s clit.
The moans freed themselves as Sunny bucked backward, almost out of Joy’s longer reach. Joy noted the exceptional reaction, and flipped Sunny onto her back, following immediately and putting herself in the position of power Sunny had initiated.
“You’re gonna fuck me with the strap on… right, Sunny?”
Sunny’s eyes widened, and she grabbed the toys.
“No, not yet,” Joy stalled in her most seductive voice. She slid down, nearly falling off the bed, and wrenched Sunny’s legs wide open with her elbows.
Sunny clenched her fingers around the hell-themed dildo for dear life. Joy’s name poured through her lips over and over again as Joy’s lips poured over her pussy.
Joy had to fight Sunny’s strength to keep her spread thighs from clamping around her head. She wanted to keep hearing her senior beg, loud and clear. To that end, she dug in her tongue, unable to penetrate far, but far enough to open Sunny up and feel the wetness flow into her mouth.
“Please… Joy… I’m close… Joy, please! Joy, don’t stop!”
The thought flitted through Joy’s head, that perhaps denying Sunny her orgasm would be fun, but something about the way she said it made Joy wonder if Sunny’s neediness was rooted in her loneliness, more than in her desire to get off. She shifted herself to wrap her arms under Sunny’s legs and pulled. It wasn’t possible for them to be any physically closer than they were, but she wanted to make it feel like they could be.
Sunny’s voice cracked, choked, and broke into a scream. Joy winced as her tongue was squeezed uncomfortably, but she wasn’t about to stop. The back arches, hair grasping, and pained gasps that followed were worth it.
Joy kept it up until Sunny’s body fell back down and her muscles relaxed. Only then, she removed herself to ask, “Need a break before my turn?”
A smile crept up Sunny’s mouth. Her fingers tightened around the dildo she still had in her hand. “Get… back down here.”
If there was any benefit Joy appreciated most about idol training, it was recovery speed, and Sunny still had it. Joy picked up the strap, quickly figuring out how it was supposed to fit and sliding it up Sunny’s legs. The motion doubled as her approach for another make out.
Of course, Joy was still immensely horny. Her interest in making out with Sunny was overshadowed by her desire to get fucked savagely, but she had the wherewithal to hold out, to let it happen naturally. She was always good at letting others take the lead. Whether they led from the top or from the bottom didn’t especially matter to her.
The alcohol made her more impatient than usual though. She forced herself to wait for the five-speed pounding she’d get, but she ground herself against Sunny’s leg in the meantime. Thankfully she didn’t have to wait long. Sunny threw her to the side and attached the vibrator to the unusual strap with very little trouble. Joy fingered herself as she watched.
“Fuck, yes, Sunny. This is going to be so goo--”
Sunny practically tackled Joy. Their lips collided again, strap hovering somewhere between Joy’s legs, but not close enough for her to feel it.
The moment she did, though, Joy grabbed Sunny’s ass and pulled. The lack of accuracy was made up for by the inhuman amount of lubrication present; both Joy’s and the curious synthetic compound that the dildo exuded seemingly of its own volition.
It was almost too much for Joy. The dildo was certainly longer than any she had used before, and bottoming out at full speed meant it hit her rather painfully in the cervix. She hissed, but otherwise just readjusted her legs in Sunny’s way to prevent the same thing from happening so easily again.
The strap held the dildo in place on Sunny’s body well. Despite its genuinely small frame, it seemed to prevent all wiggling. Every one of Sunny’s movements, including the less delicate, more intoxicated ones, translated to sensations that felt to Joy like a biologically attached dick, albeit with a plethora of extra features.
"You're so pretty, Joy," Sunny said. Even though she was doing all the work now, she wasn't nearly as winded as before. Knowing she’d affected Sunny made Joy grin into another kiss.
“No you,” Joy said with a smirk. She knew this would be good, but she truly underestimated how great it would be to see Sunny’s famous tits jiggling with the effort of fucking her. The sheen of sweat covering them would ensure the night wouldn’t be forgotten, even if Joy had another drink or two.
Joy’s first orgasm struck quickly and unexpectedly. Her breath stopped and a shudder spiked through her body from her core to the tips of her toes and fingers and head. The ability to think normally left her for a brief moment. She only kept the fleeting question of whether or not Sunny was able to feel Joy’s climax. Stars popped in and out of existence, obscuring Joy’s view of Sunny’s fantastic body.
It all faded relatively soon after, but it wasn’t enough for Joy. As soon as her lungs refilled, she screamed, “More! Sunny! Fuck me! Fuck me! Oh god!” She was practically numb everywhere, except for every square inch of her that the dildo rubbed, slid, and vibrated against. Her arms and legs wrapped around Sunny on their own.
Joy, eyes half closed, barely registered when Sunny slowed down to grab and open the extra package. She did, however, notice the sudden prodding feeling at her asshole.
“Sun--”
She couldn’t even finish Sunny’s name before something slipped its way into her butt. Her vision cleared up enough to see that even while she continued thrusting, Sunny had one hand tucked between them, and it was the source of the extra intrusion.
A couple more thrusts though, and Joy was lost to the pleasure again. She started to pant instead of scream or moan, or perhaps she was whimpering, or speaking fluent Polish. Joy couldn’t have said one way or the other. Another orgasm hit. And another. And another. She knew some time was passing between each one, but whether it was seconds or days between no longer mattered. Her mind was fading out of existence.
Until, that is, it wasn’t.
With seemingly no provocation, Joy suddenly remembered Cheungae. She had been meaning to talk to Sunny about him before they had gotten drunk. Her mind wandered, far, far more than it normally would during such intense sex.
Cheungae had taken her out several times since their first, less-than-professional meeting at the MAMAs with Wheein. Even though Joy knew he was struggling financially, he always insisted on paying for coffee, but would give up if he saw the bill when Joy took him to some of the much higher end restaurants.
He was always so polite, genuine, and humble. He didn’t even question when Joy told him they couldn’t be in a relationship, but instead insisted that they could be friends. Joy wondered if it was fair to him that she was treating him as a boyfriend in every way but name while she was still having a grand old time fucking everyone else in the industry. Cheungae knew about it, but wasn’t part of it.
And yet, sex with Cheungae made Joy feel good. Great, even. She could recreate the sensations in her mind for days afterward. His slim, toned figure hovering over her, his face contorted beautifully in adorable agony, his admittedly mediocre cock managing to hit her just right with every move. She couldn’t stop picturing him.
Another orgasm smashed through Joy’s illusion. The mental image of perfectly human Cheungae was instantly replaced with the very physical image of god-like Sunny. As tended to happen, Joy held her breath as the climax coursed through her. Her muscles contracted until she was holding Sunny in a deathly grip.
“F-fuck. Sunn-ny. Slow… slow down.”
It seemed that the request was desperately needed by both lovers, because rather than simply slow down, Sunny fell over. Joy’s pussy immediately craved to be filled again, but she knew she needed to clear her head. And besides that, she still had an odd full sensation. When her muscles relaxed enough for her to move of her own volition, she reached beneath herself and recoiled again at the feeling of a drenched butt plug. Her fingertips carried a puddle of mixed cum and lube back up.
“I’m sorry… Joy… I think that’s all I have left in me,” Sunny said between gasps.
Joy made note of her own throat and how dry it was. Whatever sound she was making while she borderline hallucinated, she’d be regretting it for a while. “All good. I was losing my sanity. That was unbelievable.”
Sunny giggled. It sounded painful. “The vibrator… or the surprise plug?”
Joy giggled back. “The plug was definitely a surprise. Was that the one with Jiu's face in it?”
“Mhm.”
“Cool,” Joy sat up, her head swimming in the aftermath. “But I just think it was you using the stuff that made it so good.”
Sunny seemed invigorated by the compliments. She smiled and reached under the bed, making some noise and bringing up a bottle of water. The two of them swapped it back and forth until it was empty and then collapsed into one another, idly feeling each others' bodies up the whole time.
“Does that mean you’re up for another… night like this? Or day?” Sunny asked as she fondled Joy’s tits. It sounded like she had sobered up, at least most of the way. Joy was too afraid of what she would see to look at a clock.
“You fucking know it,” Joy responded while she brushed her fingers up and down Sunny’s inner thighs. It was a reflex for her to agree, but she cringed inwardly as soon as she did, realizing how much more sober she had become herself, and how she wished she wasn’t. She was thinking about Cheungae again.
There was a barrage of light kisses all over her face, neck, and chest. Sunny looked far too happy for Joy to feel okay about retracting her statement.
“Maybe not right now though,” Joy said, just in case Sunny was already getting ideas. “We should really get to bed.”
She didn’t hear any arguments. They simply got up, and only long enough to flip up the duvet, flinging all of the remaining sex toys off, and jumped underneath.
It took a minute for Joy to realize she needed to remove the surprise butt plug. It was easy enough, and she ended up tossing it to the floor without looking at it.
Joy wrapped herself around Sunny. She was usually the big spoon, not that it bothered her. Sunny’s bare back felt comfortably hot against her chest and stomach. Cheungae liked being the big spoon too. He’d swap with her all the time…
“Hey, Sunny?”
“Mmm?” Sunny was on the verge of sleep, it seemed.
Joy lowered her voice, barely above a whisper. “Have you ever thought about… Settling down, I guess? Just being with one person?”
She didn’t expect Sunny to have an immense store of wisdom, but she hoped for more than what she got: a snore.
“Good night to you too, Sunny.”
156 notes · View notes
imthatchishiyasimp · 4 years ago
Text
HELLOOOOO!!!
I'm freaking out this is my first post, like the first one shot I post and write about AIB and Chishiya.
I really hope you all like it, please please please tell me what you think about it and whatever you want to tell me.
It's long (4444 words), I know, but I hate small things because I get upset. It's very close to the story and it doesn't have lot's of changes, I wanted to try first to write about something I know. In the future I will write more original and new stuff. Also, I wanted to get used to the universe and to the characters first.
HAVE A NICE READ 💚
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“THIS WAY TO THE GAME ARENA”
The sign flashes all around the city. I slowly walk towards the Toei Sendagaya block apartment, focused on the cube in my hands. Due to having no electricity, I’ve gotten used to pick random things from stores to entertain myself.
It’s still shocking to feel the city so silent and calm, and at the same time it feels terrifying. One would think that being that people die every day, the streets would be forgiving. You can’t even lower your guard now. Even since the first day, I’ve liked walking around the streets, checking out shops and random apartments. I kinda feel powerful, but it’s something that deep inside I know it’s just fake and limited. And I’m not giving up, but at least I’m going to enjoy now that I can, until ‘they’ decide that I’m not needed around anymore.
The tall complex shines between the bushes and buildings, its lights on every floor lighted on. I place myself a few meters hidden behind the stairs leading to the central lobby. From there, I sit and watch people climb the stairs. A couple of them look pretty scared and lost, showing signs of this being their first game. The rest all look shaken up but used to this. When it looks like no one else will come, I get up and get to the crowd around the phones.
There’s thirteen people waiting and all of them look at me while I pick the phone from the table. When the facial recognition is finished I can see that there’s only a few seconds left for the game to start. Almost didn’t make it. Would have been stupid to die because I was daydreaming.
‘Move aside’ I say to Chishiya, elbowing him after not having a response. He looks at me annoyed and slips off his earphones. He finally moves to let me place my back at the wall and get my hair in a bun.
“REGISTRATION HAS CLOSED. THERE ARE A TOTAL OF 14 PARTICIPANTS. THE GAME WILL NOW COMMENCE.”
It’s so easy to point out who the newcomers are and the ones that are sick of playing. You can also name who’s going to be willing to put themselves first and who’s going to scary run the whole game.
I start rolling the sleeves of my sweatshirt up when a boy with a cap starts talking to some guys. They look lost, but not new to this. Might be the first week here. I eye them from my spot, not saying a thing but listening to the whole exchange.
“Excuse me, do you know what this is?” He asks a black haired boy. Honestly, he looks a mess, like he has just gotten up from bed and hasn't changed in a few days. “I ended up here and I have no idea what’s going on”.
“It’s a game” He answers. At the same time, the blonde man next to him, probably his friend, tells him to stop it. I chuckle and cover it up with a cough, earning myself a glare from both Chishiya and Aguni. I might be prone to get in trouble with people and they won’t be happy if I screw a game up. Better be quiet.
The blonde guy whispers to his friend and I try to pick something up from the conversation. Not get close to the new ones and something else.
“DIFFICULTY: FIVE OF SPADES”
The card flashes on our phones, telling us the kind of game and the level of difficulty. I was so curious about the card when I got to my first game, I didn’t know what it meant and what I was supposed to do with it. I’m a bit ashamed to admit that I admire the cleverness behind the rules and the method of the games. It’s the work of both a psycho and a genius.
A sporty girl starts to stretch just after the card shows, so she must know what it means. She’s calm and collected and I bet she’s willing to put all of us on the killing zone before she goes down. We could be friends, I think.
I hear a sigh next to me and I catch a glimpse of Chishiya rolling his eyes. He doesn’t exactly hate physical games, but they sometimes mean having to run or climb and he’s not a fan of working out. And, even though he won’t admit it, he doesn’t like having his white hoodie dirty. Not going to judge, I don’t love spades games either, but I will choose them over the hearts ones a million times.
I get down to tie my shoes tighter just in case. I would hate tripping like the clown I really am in front of all these people. Some guy in a hat starts explaining to the two friends from before what it means a spades game. Club games are hard if there are more newcomers than experienced people. I mean, if it's a game where team work means everything, you bet you prefer working with someone who knows the way around the games. Diamond ones are a bit weird: being clever will get you through them, but sometimes the answer is so straightforward that you get lost looking for the catch. Heart games are the worst. They will kill you even if you survive, and pray that you don’t get to play with a friend or someone you know.
“GAME: A GAME OF TAG.”
“RULE: RUN AWAY FROM THE TAGGER.”
“CLEAR CONDITION: DISCOVER THE SAFEZONE HIDDEN IN ONE OF THE BUILDING ROOMS WITHIN THE TIME LIMIT. YOU CLEAR THE GAME WHEN THIS OBJECTIVE IS FULFILLED.”
“TIME LIMIT: 20 MINUTES.”
“AFTER 20 MINUTES HAS PASSED, THE TIME BOMB HIDDEN IN THE BUILDING WILL EXPLODE.”
I turn around to face Chishiya, grinning like a mad girl. He doesn’t even flinch when he stops me from talking. “No, I’m not racing you to the top.”
“But…” I sigh and watch as everyone starts running to the stairs like lost puppies. “You are so mean”. I punch him in the shoulder and cross my arms, walking towards the lift. No need running seven floors up and wasting energy if I’m not even going to be able to brag about having won a race.
Chishiya follows closely behind, probably guessing I’m going to try and leave him there.
“TWO MINUTES BEFORE THE GAME STARTS.”
We get inside the lift and silently wait until we get to the seventh floor. It’s been a long time since I used one, not everyday you get to play in a building apartment. Feels nice, and like we’re back to normal.
Once we get to the top, we both choose a position that lets us have a good look at the whole complex. He goes to one wing while I leave for the other one. No point leaving a flank unseen. I take my cube out and restart it, keeping an eye on the people looking around scattered through the floors. I don’t get why someone would choose saying in the lower ground when a tagger is supposed to chase you through the whole building. Dude, that’s the most critical place to start.
“Hey, don’t get distracted with those games of yours.”
“Don’t be mean, Chishiya. You know I’m paying attention.” Anyway, once I finish the cube, I keep it in my pocket and rest my arms on the banister.
Aguni and his new friend get to the seventh floor and both of us wave towards him. Like always, he completely ignores us and keeps walking towards another high point.
“That’s nasty” Chishiya says and I nod along. Aguni is always so serious during games, it’s boring.
“I place my bet on those two guys and the sporty girl surviving”. I firmly say. They look like they will make it, but not without having a rough time.
He has the audacity to snort and laugh at me and I look at him surprised. “You’re joking. Everyone looks like they’re about to die, as usual. Just look at them, they don’t know shit about what to do”.
“Were you this calm in your first games? Don’t be mean, they are trying their best. No one wants to die.”
“But, where you that stupid?” He says while pointing to a couple of girls on the second floor who are touching their phones desperately. “I’m not saying you gotta be a genius from the start, but if you don’t collect yourself quickly, you are already dead.”
“Well, my majesty, not all of us are like you, and some people need a little more time, and a little more help.”
Chishiya looks at me and, as if I had imagined, a caring and sorry look crosses his eyes. He probably remembers the first time he saw me get through the games and how I completely lost it once. It wasn’t easy.
“THE GAME WILL NOW COMMENCE.”
He nudges my arm with his elbow and I look at him.
“THE TIME LIMIT IS 20 MINUTES.”
“Hey” He says with a soft voice.
“GAME START.”
“Don’t die this time.”
“Wasn't planning to.”
“THE TAGGER IS NOW ON THE MOVE.”
As if we all had planned it, the whole complex goes silent, trying to locate this said tagger. A trumpet goes off and everyone looks scared, ready to bolt to wherever they can.
The sound of the lift’s doors can be heard from our position, so the tagger is probably on the sixth or fifth floor.
Not a penny drop can be heard. Not a breath.
Some people start walking and try to open doors. The rest are all watching closely until something happens.
And it does.
Gunshots run through the dense air that surrounds us. I try to see where they come from and I finally catch sight of the tagger. Probably a man, judging for the height, with a horse head and a really mean gun. He’s on the sixth floor, just in front of the stairs.
I point at him and nudge Chishiya, but I already know that he has seen him.
There’s now thirteen of us.
And then shots are fired again and we can see the two friends and the one with the hat running down the stairs, away from the tagger.
“Told you, they are gonna get killed.” Chishiya says with a smirk.
“Oh shut up, this is not a TV show we are talking about. And I have faith in them”.
They split up on the third floor, the hat man keeps going down while the other two try to hide in the hallway. Not long after, on the ground floor that the tagger chases and shots the first one and finds another man freaking out. I don’t know if it’s better that he died because he went off the game zone instead of being shot by the tagger. Anyway, he’s also dead. And that makes three dead players.
Eleven participants left.
“See, they are smart. At least the cute one”. I say smiling.
Chishiya looks at me and raises an eyebrow, silently questioning just what I said.
“What? It’s not like I’m lying; he is cute, and smart.” I laugh and wink at him, cutting eye contact with him. If we are going to have an awkward moment, please don’t be while we are playing for our lives.
The killing spree of the tagger continues with the pretty and lost two girls. They sure are on their first game, because they look so freaking scared and unprepared. I mean, who would have come with heels and handbags. I scoff and shake my head watching how one of them falls dead and the other one wastes an incredible opportunity of getting away while the tagger reloads. Well, not all of us are strong enough to leave our friend and not panic at the same time. Shame she has to die, anyway.
So now we are nine players still alive.
Looks like everything’s gone silent again, until shouts break the silence and we all look for the source. It’s the cute guy and I laugh when I understand what he’s saying.
“Everyone! The tagger is currently at the second level of the central area! The tagger has bad vision because of his mask! Let’s inform each other of the tagger’s location and search for the safezone together!”
“Oh my god, did he seriously turn a spades game into a club’s one?” I laugh again and Chishiya scoffs under his hood. “I want to be best friends with him”.
“Don’t be stupid.” Chishiya says. We move a bit to see where they are going now that they are all running. “It’s a good idea, not going to lie, but no one will answer him.”
He mutters something else, but I don’t really catch it. I think I saw the tagger doubt his step when he heard the guy shouting, but he definitely looks annoyed when the sporty girl shouts back.
“The tagger is moving from the fourth level of the central area! Anyone nearby, run!”
I celebrate and raise my hands, clapping and laughing in Chishiya’s face. He looks surprised and tells me to shut it.
The girl runs from the tagger and finds an elderly woman in the hallway. With the tagger on their back, they are probably going to get killed. I grip the banister and hold my breath. She seems friendly and clever, I’m internally rooting for her.
Suddenly she jumps off the balcony and starts climbing the pipes up to the next floor. The other woman dies behind her, and the tagger tries to catch the girl but fails.
“She’s pretty good.” Chishiya mutters. “You just wish you could do that. It’s called envy”.
“As if you could do that too. You are just as weak as me.”
“Hey! Don’t throw me in the same casket!”
“EIGHT MINUTES UNTIL THE GAME ENDS.”
“THERE ARE CURRENTLY EIGHT SURVIVORS.”
Already? We should start moving.
I look at Chishiya under my hair and he frowns at something. I follow his gaze and see the tagger looking at the cap boy from an upside floor. What’s shocking it’s him starting to shoot from there. He has been killing just people he casually finds while walking around, not shooting from that distance.
The boy goes down, but looks unharmed. The two friends are on the same floor and get to him, running away from the door he was trying to open.
Not bothering to ask Chishiya if he got that, I start jumping on the place and keep my phone in my pockets. He slides off the hood and shoves me towards the stairs.
“Shall we, ma’am?”
“THERE ARE FIVE MINUTES REMAINING.”
From the corner of my eye I catch Aguni intercepting the boys and I make a face. It doesn’t always go well when he does that, he tends to let them die in order to have his way. The sporty girl stops to talk to them and she starts jumping from floor to floor.
“Do you think someone’s going to get it too?” I ask out loud. Chishiya shrugs and keeps on walking. I tsk and stay behind him when we get to the hallway. I turn around and watch my back, even though I heard a fight somewhere near. Probably Aguni, who are we kidding.
Just when we are arriving at the safezone apartment, the cute boy appears from the other side.
“Cute boy! I’m glad you realized it!” I happily say without thinking. I mouth a silent sorry when he looks at me a bit perplexed. Chishiya elbows me, hard, and I whine a bit. That’s mean.
He picks the doorknob first, but doesn’t open it. The three of us are watching closely, and honestly I’m a bit nervous about the time. I don’t like risking it as much as Chishiya.
“Aren’t you going to open it?” he asks.
The boy answers a couple of seconds after, lost in his thoughts “Why did the tagger chase us? He could have just waited here.”
He is onto something. Now, I’m not liking this at all.
“Seems like there’s something else we don’t know.” Chishiya says, keeping his calm exterior. He’s going to use this poor boy in case he has any doubt of a risk. “However,” he adds, taking his phone out “if you don’t open it…”
There are three minutes left.
Sweat starts running down my back, making me shiver and hold my breath while I watch the boy start turning the doorknob. All our phones beep announcing the time left until we all die with the bomb.
Slowly, he opens the door with caution. We all walk inside, in silence and with darkness surrounding us. It 's empty. No furniture, neither personal objects nor some leftovers of someone’s life. A few steps in we notice a door at the end of the room and we all walk towards it.
It’s not until we are too far inside that another tagger walks out behind the door.
“Look out!” the boy screams and pushes us out of the shot range.
Gunshots fly around the apartment and I duck behind the bathroom door. Chishiya uses the taser and the tagger goes down, but recovers quickly and starts shooting again. I scream when a bullet gazes at my arm. It fucking hurts, but at least the bullet didn’t got me completely.
I can hear the apartment door being shut and the other door at the end closing too. They must have gotten through them. I hope they aren’t harmed.
I wait, trying not to make any sound in case the tagger comes to finish me off. I search through the room, but nothing seems lethal enough to use like a weapon. I hate bringing weapons to games, I don’t really want to kill anyone if I can help it.
Gunshots are fired and I cover myself up, even though they are not directed towards me. Fighting blade weapons? I’m okay with that. Fighting people? Not against it. But, I have nothing towards a gun. I mean, it can take me from a long distance! No point.
“Everyone! The safezone is in apartment 406! It’s impossible to clear the game alone! We need two people to do this!”
Are you kidding? This is so mean. What if you were the only survivor? Not fair, not at all.
Well, it seems like I should get moving and try to do something useful in this game. I haven’t done shit, now that I think about it.
Slowly, I open the door just in time to see the tagger shoot the door and break the safelock. I take small steps following it, ready to throw myself to placate it. Just when the gun is going up I jump and kick the tagger in the knee, managing to bring it to the floor.
I hear a scream coming from the tagger and a lady cursing from behind the mask. She starts shooting and I scream trying to cover myself without being hit. The guy bolts and tries to help me get her off the gun, but she keeps fighting like a mad person.
We both go down before she gets us with the bullets and I catch a glimpse of Chishiya at the door, trying to help but having to cover himself because of the lost shots.
The phones all inform us of the ten seconds remaining at the same time that the sporty girl jumps through the glass of the balcony. The tagger kicks me and gets the gun pointing at my face and I panic just a bit before I push back. The other guy tries to help me, but with no help.
“Hey!” Chishiya shouts.
I’m on the floor fighting the tagger with the gun under my chin, trying to get it off my face, but I see him throwing the taser to the girl and she quickly gets the tagger down.
I let out a sigh before I heard the time almost coming to an end. My eyes search for him and we lock our gazes. I can feel the breath we are both holding and the silent words running through our minds. My fingers clench and I swallow, accepting death like a forgotten friend, saying goodbye with a blink.
But, just like that, with a blink, it all finishes. The buttons are pressed on the last second and we all hear the beeps from our phones.
“GAME CLEAR.”
“CONGRATULATIONS.”
In that same moment, the tagger gets the mask off and we can see an old lady crying looking at us. The collar in her neck starts beeping faster and faster and I scramble to get away from her. Chishiya grabs both my arms and I scream at the touch in the bullet gaze from before, but he doesn’t let go and gets me away at the same time that the collar explodes, killing the lady.
My whole back is covered in blood and I roughly grab Chishiya’s hoodie. I don’t want to look at her and see what we did, even though it was unintended. She was also playing, and she died because we won.
Chishiya and I are left in the room with the dead tagger, and he grips my hand and makes me let go of him. He starts checking the pockets of the lady and gets something out, but I don’t register exactly what.
I get out of the apartment to breathe. I hate this part where we really think about what went down here. Lots of people died, and we got a few days to live just to have to risk it again in the next game. Could have we saved someone? Not really, I know that. But it doesn’t make it easier anyway.
“I’m Arisu.” Someone says beside me. I turn and the cute boy is there, watching me from a distance. “I wanted to thank you, for risking yourself back there. We are alive thanks to all of you.” He sticks out his hand to me and waits.
I’m speechless. No one has thanked me like this in any game. I didn’t really do a thing, but he’s thanking me. I should be the one doing it, he cooperated with the other girl and they stopped the bomb. We could have died there.
I let out a small laugh and shake his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Arisu. And thanks to you, you did the dirty work inside the room.”
I look back inside and watch Chishiya stick the paper in his hoodie and walk towards us.
“I look forward to meeting you somewhere else, hopefully not dead in a game. Be careful and enjoy the warm water in the ocean now that we are all alone in the city.”
With a wink, I walk out of the apartment building with Chishiya not too far behind. I think he heard me talking to Arisu, but he doesn’t comment on it.
We walk, and we walk, and we walk. Neither of us likes to go back to the Beach in the cars, so we always take a stroll through the streets, enjoying the silence and the stars shining above us.
“Does it hurt?” he asks.
“Mmh?” I look at him questioning and he nods to my bleeding arm. “Oh, yes, like a bitch. But I’ll have to wait until we get there.”
He tsks and grabs my arm, leading us to a pharmacy around the corner. I don’t say anything, knowing he will shut me up and will only be a waste of time. We get inside and he starts looking for some disinfectant and bandages.
He knows his stuff. I was surprised at first to discover he knows his way around the medical grounds; and I’m glad he does. It doesn't hurt having someone nearby capable of dealing with nasty wounds.
He silently works and I watch him closely. He’s handsome. And he knows it, that’s why he smirks feeling my gaze on his face. I trace his features taking my time. His eyes are the most scary thing I’ve ever met. They hold so much knowledge and feelings. I always feel like he could take me apart just with his eyes. He mostly covers his emotions, so even though you search for micro expressions, you will come empty handed almost always.
I bring my free hand up and run my fingers through his hair. I love it, it’s so smooth and soft. And the fact that he always wears white to match his hair makes me smile like an idiot.
Chishiya clears his throat and starts covering up the wound. My hand drops and rests in his arm, basking in the heat he’s making.
Once he’s done, he brings down my sleeves and looks me in the eye, silently checking if I’m okay. I nod and take his hand, quickly gripping and, just as fast, letting go. I can hear him sigh behind me, and he follows behind.
“You know, I’m glad I met you here, but I would have prefered meeting you in the real world.”
“Why?”
“Because I know I will be safer here with you, but I also know the probability of us having a happy ending is minimal while we are here.”
“You are not wrong.” A couple of minutes goes by until he adds: “But that doesn’t mean you can’t try and make the most of it while you are alive. It will hurt more, but at this point, who cares?”
I let out a breathy laugh and turn around to hug him. Hard. He stops and lets me hug him, finally giving in and hugging me back. I hide my face in his neck, breathing deep and closing my eyes. I can feel his pulse and his chin coming down on my head, his hand running through my back.
“You are an idiot.”
“And you are mean. Deal with it.”
I swear I can feel his lips kissing the top of my head, but it’s so fast I can’t be sure. He starts walking again and I run to catch him before I lose him.
We may have a complicated relationship, if you can call it that. We are there for each other, not sure of what to do, what to give, what to take. But we do not give up. I’m just glad I’m not alone, and thankful that I have someone looking out for me.
I smile all the way to the Beach.
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How bout a fic a levi x civilian baker? Reader finds him intimidating at first but as time goes by she get to know him and slowly falls in love with levi. Likes his cleanfreakiness, obsession with tea, his gentleness, how he treats his comrades etc. Reader sees his softer side, hidden under the gruffiness and glares. The setting could be scouts relaxing in a small bakery x teashop every dayoff they get and/or reader donates bread for the scouts? Just a peaceful love story❤ with funny banters❤
This has been in my inbox for months but I only now found some inspiration to write it (I'm basically baking stuff every single day so maybe that's why) anon, if you're still out there I'm sorry for the long wait, I hope this is what you wanted.
Pairing: Levi/ Reader
Tags: fluff, canonverse
Loaves of Love
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It all started with a young brunette soldier who had been awestruck by your shop's enamoring display. With her shaky hands and her oily teenage skin pressed against the shiny glass while a streak of drool run down her face.
You had been waxing some tables to start the day with, your feet much swollen and numb by the long standing position when you noticed her; big, round brown eyes that were swooning over the loaf of garlic bread you had placed at the shelf on display were blinking rapidly between you and the object of her desire. She seemed to ignore the voices that we calling out to her as she was fixated on the streaks of smoke that danced in the air, rubbing a tiny area in the glass as if she longed to caress the loaf like a lover.
You couldn't help but crack a smile.
If there was one word that could be used to describe the bakery shop you were working for that word would be 'delicious'.
Or so you wanted to believe.
Your uncle, the owner of the shop and a top baker in Trost, had poured a lot of money to it's renovation after the store was trashed by the breachinf of the walls. It was profoundly evident element in the store that could be found anywhere from the elegant stalls and shelves that were filled with different types of bread and numerous plates of traditional pastries, to the most divine and fine glass that shone on every large window.
The wooden floors were polished to perfection, and twice a day at that, by your uncle's command, and all the tables at the restroom area of the store were cleaned meticulously every single morning. It was a necessary policy of your uncle's; a clean store attracted more customers which meant more income, and thus more independent financial stability for you through a bigger wage. One that you didn't have to split in half with your brother.
Until that day came though, you were stuck with scrubbing and waxing the tables each and every morning.
Wiping down the excess residue of wax, you eyed your brother, noticing how he was setting up loaves of bread neatfully over the caramel brown baskets, carefully making sure he didn't mix up the different breadths of bread. You brother noticed, smiling at you in return and you pointed out to the young brunette whou wouldn't seem to get her face off of your display window.
"She's cute."
"Oh my god Beau, she must be so young you gross little shit."
"The scouts have had their income reduced once again." He announced. "That's why the poor girl is drooling. They're looking for a new bakery to take up their orders too."
"Oh."
"Yeah and uncle said we should do it."
You gave a hard eye with puckered lips to your brother as he voiced that, letting a long sigh escape you. He replied with a side smileand brought his hands to his hair, shipping his locks back before searching for the little hair band in the pocket of his apron. By the time you laid eyes on the small brunette, you noticed that her friends we're accompanying her. You pressed your lips together as you eyed the group of teens, half smiling at them in any case they could see you through the glass. One of them shook his head to the side, shyly blushing as his wide eyes were instantly hidden by his blond bangs.
The were all oggling the display with eyes as wide as the brunettes, You guessed, as your brother had said that they must have been rather hungry; Scouts never really have a big budget nonetheless, and your heart skipped a beat at the paleness on the teenagers' faces, the mere thought of them not having eaten anything for breakfast was more fearful than looking a Titan in the eye.
So, by setting down your table waxing kit, you wiped your hands at your apron and rushed to the small stall that your brother was leaning on.
"Beau, do me a favor and step aside please." You spoke as you marched to him and the hem of your skirt flapped over your ankles.
"Wait, what?"
"I'm feeding the kids."
"(Y/n), they're not stray dogs you know."
"Fine giving them some bread, whatever." You scoffed.
"Uncle's gonna be mad."
"As if I care. I didn't ask to be a baker and work here, plus less loaves means it's on demand."
Your brother sighed at you and slowly shook his head a couple of times. You didn't miss the sly smile that he hid once he burried his face to the palm of his hand, just like he didn't miss the cooking of your eyebrow as you smirked victoriously at him. Taking a complete turn to the opposite direction from the one you were facing you pushed your brother aside and kneeled down to the shelves on the inside of that cashier stall where numerous tote bags laid, folded neatly, ready to accommodate any of your costumer's orders.
You quickly grabbed one, and jounced it open in the air.
Your eyes shot to the teens that still stood before the display, now trying to pull their friend away from it, and hurriedly grabbed a few medium sized loaves in your hands. Once you filled the bag with more loaves than the number of teens you took a quick turn again, your feet stomping the mahogany tiles of the floor underneath you.
"Hello!" Your costumer friendly cheerful voice chatted.
"Ah agagagagagaga!" The brunette from before panicked as she turned to you, her hands stood confused before her chest.
"Hey miss" The tallest of the group, an ashy blond boy, spoke back to you. "We're sorry were standing here like bunch of idiots-"
"Speak for your self Jean! I feel in love with that loaf!"
"Sasha stop being such a glutton!" A girl with ebony hair spoke.
"Oh no it's fine, I just got these for you."
With steady hands a compressee smile on your face you extended the bag to Sasha's direction, the material flapping as it hung from your grip. Sasha's eyes shit wide open, they glimmered with tension and her mouth fell agape as she went to scream at you. Another boy, one with a buzzcut, quickly got his hands on her, linking his elbows inside hers as he wiggled his right palm to her mouth, ready to stop whatever sound the girl wanted to utter.
"Thank you! Please don't give food to Sasha so bluntly, she will bite your hand off." The ashy blonde told you and took a grip of the beige straps of the tote bag. His hand wiggled inside, grabbing a small loaf and he brought it to his nose to smell it before placing it into Sasha's hands.
"You bastars, did you just smell something that was a gift?"
"It smelled good Eren." The boy greeted his teeth.
"Not very accepting of you, she's giving us their most popular bread and the first thing you do is smell it?"
"You've been very annoying today Eren don't test me."
"Eren?" You said, shaking your head in disbelief "Eren Yeager? As in the kid who can turn into a Titan?"
Eren oggled his eyes in yours, marching a foot forward so he could come into a better view and opened his mouth to speak by flapping his lips together. You couldn't help but let out a giggle as you watched Jean roll his eyes at him before taking a step back and tapping Connie's shoulders in order to tell him to unhand Sasha. Any other group of teens would have annoyed you, but these young scouts in particular were known faces of the front lines and over the newspapers at some occasions. You couldn't really hold a grudge to teenagers with issues bigger than yours, you gave them that.
"Yes I am that-"
"Brats."
"I am that brat, what?"
Eren looked around in confusion, questionimg the words that had just left his mouth. You chuckled at him briefly, closing your eyes in the funny of the situation before shooting them open once again as you laid them on the person who had spoke over Eren.
Captain Levi. You almost gasped absurdly loud at the realisation.
Raven hair that shone with a strobe under the early morning light, a porcelain complecion to contrast it, a heart shaped face and narrow almond eyes with thick lashes, a nose that looked like it had been sculped by gods with uttmost delicacy and thin, a pair assymetrical lips that were pressed into a pout. He truly looked better that anyone you had even seen from up close and you found yourself choking with unsaid words as his gunmetal gaze was fixed on you.
"Are you the owner of the store?" He said bluntly, the question reminding you more of a statement.
"Ah, I'm, I'm not! My uncle is and-"
"See I told you he intimidates women!" Connie whispered to Sasha as she stuffed another bite of garlic bread into her mouth, earning a sharp glare from the captain. The duo burst in laughter shortly after the captain turned his gaze from them and you watched as he rolled his eyes at them while digging his lips under his teeth to sink them in his mouth.
"Speak up, my nails don't exactly smell like what you want to say."
You eyed him in confusion, struck by the bluntness of his sarcasm. Still you managed to gather your thoughts with a single inhale. "My uncle is the owner of the bakery, feel free to come in, I'll give fetch him."
"Hm"
With a nod the short man agreed to your proposal, fixing the waist height camel jacket on his chest. It was the beginning of a warm day in Trost, that was for sure and you could see the soldiers around you tense inside their attire slighty. The captain bored his eyes into yours once again as you gestured you to get into the store before him.
Sighing, you entered the the store, giving your brother a wide eyed look before with an awkward smile that vanished in a matter of seconds. You quickly checked to see that the group of teens were lazing out of the bakery, not bothering to follow their captain, as they chit chat they with each other quite loudly.
"Hi, have a seat captain, what can we get you? Something to drink? Or eat? " Your brother greeted from behind the stall, giving the gloomy captain an ear to ear grin.
"Just black tea. Unsweetened."
The captain waved off his hand as he took a seat on a dim lit table and you noticed as his body sank in the chair momentarily. A soft smile over came your features as you stared at him, taking in his bulky form as streaks of light peaked over him, inevitably bathing him in warm morning colors. His finger traced over the table, rubbing softly in a small area as if reluctantly inspecting it.
Of course, you were aware of his antics; many fellow shop owners would compete on who would get to provide captain Levi with his cleaning supplies on his monthly stroll around the town to shop necessities. His mania with cleaning was something that probably unbeknownst to him was a big thing for anyone to his service or even swooning fangirls.
Oh, he had a few of them.
Now, you could see why.
He stood so gloomyon his own, carrying such a mysterious aura around him. With his sleek hand holding the side of his face while being balled up in a tight fist, with his navy gray button down shirt and the knee length boots. Despite being as short as most people said, a fact you were trying to get in your head, because you've only seen him from afar and on his horse, he was still rather bulky, with thighs that were barely restrained by the straps of his gear. With biceps that flexed tight in his jacket.
Shoot, he kind if was a little dreamy, you weren't going to lie.
"Are you going to fetch our uncle or shall I give you a day off to drool over the captain?"
Oh, your brother was always quick to call you out on the bare minimum.
"Fine, fine. I'm off. By the walls."
Okay, yeah, so what if you found the captain a little dreamy, it wasn't going to hurt anyone.
.....
Thinking about your cleaning routine you had concluded that at this point you didn't know if this bakery smelled like the delicious fluffiness of freshly baked bread or sanitary products. People really seemed to compliment you on both nevertheless, whether on individual or collective level. You were simply happy about how most seemed to enjoy their experience at your bakery.
Most, but mostly him.
Captain Levi of the Scouts. He was a regular at your shop for, give or take, three months now. And you couldn't be more happy about it.
Just like today, he was usually dropping by on Mondays, each and every time with a new book in hand, dressed in casually formal attires, that mostly consisted of the same onyx suit and a dress shirt that sat too tight on his petrocals. Your brother would tease you afterwards, making snarkly comments about how you were flirting shamelessly with him, and you'd brush him off with a reply on how unresponsive the man was to anything.
Not convinced with the silly things you told yourself, you brother stood with his back against the bread shelves, grinning victoriously as the little bell of the store rang when the mighty captain slipped inside the store silently. You shit him a glare, a harsh furrowed glare before eyeing the apron that was hanging right next to him. Catching the signal, your brother grabbed the article and rouched it in his hands before tossing it to you.
"The usual?" You smiled slightly at Levi.
"Mhm"
Setting the apron over the bust of your dress, you drag your hands over the cotton front, pinching a few if the ruffles to perfection, then lowering your hands to the small of your back to idle with the straps of the waist in order to tie them in the perfect bow. The heels of your shoes clapped over the mahogany tiles of the floor as you run to the small kitchenette behind that cashier stall, just a few meters away from where your brother stood.
You bent down, then back up, examining the hangers in the area with a cocked eyebrow. Just where were your oven gloves?
"His apple pie is here," You brother said and you clapped a hand over your mouth "I took it out of the oven while you were drooling at him."
"No, oh my god! Is it baked?"
"Would I taken it out if it wasn't?"
You didn't reply. Instead, you chose to fixate your attention at the jars of tea that rested on the top shelf of the kitchenette. The choices weren't many, of course, your store wasn't exactly a tea shop or a coffee shop, the small variety of beverages you had only existed in order to help people digest their pastries better. Nothing too fancy. Yet, for Levi, you had spent days collecting some of the chamomile outside your house, you had tried drying red forests fruits, hell you had even tried making jasmine tea for him.
And for what?
Maybe the look on his face when you'd present him with a new tea blend was all the satisfaction you could use. Actually, that was the only thing it should be; the happiness of a service worker as their costumer enjoyed consuming their product, the fact that it made them come back, maybe the fact that despite not liking sweets they welcomed your pastries without objection.
But it wasn't just that. You knew, your brother knew, maybe even Levi knew and he pitied you.
You had fallen in love with Captain Levi. You had tried your best to supress it, to put it in a box, lock it and dig a hole twenty feet under the ground and bury it so light wouldn't see it again. Him and you weren't possible and you were more than aware ever since the very first day. Still, you had found him becoming so familiar to you in the little times you had seen him that you felt like you couldn't help yourself.
"Are you going to stand there for long? The kettle has been whistling for a long while now."
"Uhh, yes, yeah."
Shaking your thoughts out of your head you fixed your eyes on the whistling kettle. You took another step closer to it and since there wasn't any heat protecting glove in sight, you grabbed the length of your apron in your hand before wrapping your palm around the mettalic handle. You poured the hot water carefully into a large porcelain teapot, through the small almond tea brew that you had previously arranged onto the infuser.
"Don't have that face..."
"What face?" You asked nonchalantly and places the teapot on a tray, right next to the small pot of apple pie.
"You know.. the face... the I'm sad about my boyfriend face."
"I don't have that face." You snarled "and he's not my boyfriend. Shut up before he can hear you."
Walking to a glass shielded cupboard, you slid the little door open and grabbed a matching cup to the teapot, setting it too onto the tray. From the corner of your eye you watched as your brother sighed and shook his head disappointed in you, but you brushed it off quickly; you just wanted to give Levi his order, you'd have all day to endure your brother's teasing after the man of your desire left.
"Hello"
Levi's eyes shimmered as light splashed onto them; the little blue circles on the outer edge of his irises shone a different hue today, one that didn't accentuate the darkness of his eyebags, though it still was enigh to merge with how soft his time was to you.
"Hi" You pressed your lips together "here you go, almond tea and your apple pie."
"Ah, ye-yes, the apple, the apple pie."
Was he, by any chance, stuttering?
You glanced to the left and then to the right, then back to Levi again. Pressing your hand to his forehead didn't seem like a good idea, mostly because you respected his personal space and also because the man was quite fond of being obsessed over cleaningness and maybe your hands weren't clean enough for his standards. Or it could also be that you were overall too awestruck to do anything other than lean down closer to him, bum popping in the air, as your knees remained unbent.
"Is everything alright Captain?"
Had you been dense, you would have missed the way his eyes were magnetized by the action, and consequentially get back to your standing position. Levi quickly cleared his throat though and closed his eyes, brushing the happening off as if it had never happened.
"Yes, I'm, I'm good, just a little" He cough again "Isn't it a bit warm here?"
"Ah, yes, I mean it is a furnace. Anyways I'll leave you to your book."
"No you're welcome to-" Levi begun and his hand traced over the black leather cover of the book.
"What was that?"
"I said, you're welcome. And call me Levi, cut the shitty formalities."
As you turned on your heels to walk to your brother, you felt your heart skip not one, but numerous beats. Quickly, you left the tray on the counter before your brother and rushed to the back room of the store, desperate to hide the embarrassing joy you were feeling. You squatted down on a dim lit spot just behind a few sacks of flour and buried your face in your hands.
Nonetheless you sighed, setting your gaze at one sack of flour before you that was filled to the top, hoping the the neat white color would help you calm down. Why did it have to even be like this? With a deep sigh you put your hands over your knees and unbent them, your body willingly standing up as you wiped your eyebrow with the flat of your palm.
Your head was probably throbbing just as much as your heart.
You felt guilty that you experienced such emotions in the first place. You had been too eager to wear your heart upon your sleeve when it came to Levi that you ignored that most of your interactions rolled as awkwardly as this one.
Maybe that's why he stuttered.
Maybe he even had someone he had feelings for just like you had for him.
Maybe..
Maybe...
Maybe....
You kept repeating the word inside your head until it became a mushy pile of goo that stuck to a crevice of your mind and prevented it from functioning correctly. All you knew was that you had to finish baking the weekly amount loaves the scouts had ordered you. And that's what you set as your task. With your uncle nowhere near the store at this -ungodly for him- hour you walked to the enormous tin in which he kept the dough you were looking for.
All you had to do was shape it into loaves and bake it. Easy and soul mending.
It should be something that could keep your mind off of him for a long while.
.....
The sun shone a bright orange as it spilled from the small windows of the room, bathing the the enormous amount of loaves you had baked as they rested inside the deckles you had placed them in. The warmth of this evening was beyond bearable and combined with the heat of the furnace you could feel your cheeks going numb to the excessive heat.
A droplet of sweat run down your forehead, lukewarm as it was when it formed to the top of your hairline, freshening up a little ribbon over your skin. With the back of your hand covered by the edge of your apron you wiped it away, leaving your skin complaining over the harsh, erratic movement.
"I think your boyfriend is waiting for you."
You turned your head to your left when you heard the tomed down voice. Your brother, was leaning against doorframe of the workshop, his hands crossed and pressed sturdily across his chest, his hip pressing against the casing of the door. There was this warm expression all over his face, that little teasing glimmer that flickeres in his eyes as the light of the sunset painted him orange as well.
"For the last time," You furrowed your brows and looked away. "he's not my boyfriend. And he's free to stay here for as long as he wants."
"Please with how slow things between him and you are going I'm going to have to ask him to ask for your hand in marriage."
Just what you needed.
"Beau. No."
"(Y/n). Yes." He smiled at you once you rolled your eyes "Anyways, he's waiting to help you get the loaves to the Scouts Headquarters. Because I have a date to attend to."
You didn't speak, you didn't even throw your brother a glance as the words left his mouth. You simply furrowed your brows together painfully over your shut eyes and puckered your lips. Your hands reached to your bum, wiping down any residue of flour to the pleats of your skirt ithout giving it a second thought.
"Fine. I hope this isn't one of your match making tricks."
Your brother smiled and tucked a stray strand of hair behind his ear. You already knew what his answer was going to be.
"Cross my heart and hope to die."
....
The big wooden table that hung from the balcony above it read "Uncle Ben's leather goods" in a big, cursive font, and by the looks of it, Levi had stopped by to retrieve something commissioned for him by his squad. You curiously peaked once or twice inside the store, as you leaned over the cart, the tips of your fingers rubbing lines along the thick wooden borders.
Had you taken the shortcut you had suggested the trip to the headquarters was no more than ten minutes. This evening though, since you were accompanied by the captain himself, taking a shortcut wasn't exactly a preferable option in your agenta, thus, you hadn't insisted on it.
When he finally exited the store with a tote bag hanging from his shoulder you realised you hadn't spent a lot of time waiting for him, still the little commotion in your heart begged you to cease every single moment you had alone with him
"Okay, time to head off to the headquarters" You said with a soft smile.
Levi hummed in response and walked to the back side of the cart. With steady hands he pressed onto it, his fingers flexing onto the metallic handles. He hung his head low, his shaggy bangs waving over his eyes a little before he turned his head again to look at you. Gunmetal orbs fell into yours with serenity, blinking ever so slowly.
"You seem to be into reading, Levi." You said, your eyes being the first ones to look away.
"Ah, yes, I couldn't enjoy reading in the past thus I am doing so now."
You found yourself in loss of words for the thousandth time this evening. You didn't know what exactly you had to say to that, seeing you had heard rumors about him being a former thug, though in your best judgment that would be an intensitive subject to bring up. Immediately, your brother came to your mind, he would not hesitate to pester you for days you if you didn't make any progress over crush now, would he?
Maybe asking for his favorite literature genre was the way to go with this.
"What's your favorite gen-"
"Can I tell you somethin-"
Levi blinked his eyes rapidly into yours and you giggled slightly at his confused face. The ravenette stared back and forth between the two of you with puckered lips, wondering who shall speak first.
"Go ahead Levi."
"The almond tea you're serving me is rather good. Care to tell me how to make it on my own?"
A shy smile came over you, still you felt the need to conceal it. You could see the headquarters peaking from the other buildings in the background, the cobblestone color of the building contrasting the violet of the sky only ever so slightly. You didn't have that much time left with Levi and that was a fact, so now wasn't the time to get all shy.
"I'll bring you a jar next week then. Just a small one though, or not!"
"No?" Levi said and cocked an eye brow at you.
His eyes were fixated on you again, his features bearing a soft expression that you couldn't exactly pinpoint, still it spread a little warmth inside you. Instinctively you run your eyes over your outfit. The only thing you found was as perfect as it was when you left your house in the morning was the top of your dress. You slightly fixed the cord that was holding the corset part of your dress tied, tucking it into where it had escaped from.
You didn't let him know you caught him staring, but by the way he was looking at you, maybe he didn't have a certain someone among the scouts.
Or were you just seeing what you wanted?
"Of course not, I'm not about to lose a regular at my store."
"A regular huh?" Levi questioned with that nasal undertone of his
You looked at the sky before you went to answer him. The evening breeze smeeled wondrously, mixed with the mouth watering aroma of the slightly season with garlic and poppy seeds bread, you could even say it was heavenly. The air wasn't as heavy and awkward as you had expected, rather, Levi was in a somewhat playful mood if you could place it correctly.
It struck you that he might have been like that because he was feeling the change in the atmosphere as well.
"Would you like to be more than a regular?" You paused "shoot never mind that"
"What was that? More than a regular?"
"Yes, a super regular!" You smiled slyly.
"If you keep spurting entertaining crap like that more often I might be tempted to become one."
Without realising it, you found yourself gaining confidence over the little territory you had conquered in the captain's mind. Every step you took that lead ultimately led you to the Headquarters was a proof of that. Levi seemed to be as bummed as you, he seemed to be flustered like a teen whose date had ended, you could see it now for some reason.
And when it came to you, your feet weren't shaky anymore, your voice wasn't the squeaky polite voice you'd put on for strangers. This was the first time in a long while where you felt like you could be yourself in Levi's presence and you couldn't help but hope there would be more instances like this.
"Here we are."
"Yes, here we are." Levi sighed, turning his face to look at you.
"I uhm, I'll help you get those in."
"No need to, I'll have the brats sweat for it, I haven't tortured them in a long while."
You couldn't help but laugh a little at that comment, though the bubbling sound died down immediately, bowing before the reality of your current situation. Your stroll around Trost had come to end. What an unfair way for your little walk to die.
Nevertheless your chest rose and fell as you looked at Levi, your heart pulping hard inside your chest. Heat rushed just under your skin, stinging you in millions of places at once as you contemplated on what to say next. You were going to speak, and very soon at that, just omge you found the words to do so.
"I'd like to see you again." You spoke, though you doubted this was the right choice of words.
"You see me every single week."
"Not like that!"
"Tch, then?" He clicked his tongue.
Your stomach turned. It twisted and turned and tied itself in a horrid knot; you couldn't just not panic. At his cocked brow, the little press of his lips, the way his eyes remained narrowed as the glared at you. On no, this was your doom for being bold before, wasn't it?
"Like this, but, without the bread."
You didn't miss the way his eyes softened at your words, frankly because it was a rather beautiful sight. The little creases of his eyes overlaoped each other, narrowing his gaze with a mellow tint that was gone as soon as you blinked. It only made you feel like you shouldn't blink again as to not miss his small reactions.
"Hmh, that can be arranged."
Honestly, you couldn't wait until then.
Taglist: @sasageyowrites @ackermans-freedom-inc @melancholicmonologue @ladyofpandemonium @levisbrat25 @hawkssnugget @berrijam @lzrers @levisbrat25 @callmepromise
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