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#look at how the glasses make it so you can’t see his eyes when he looks at someone else
cumikering · 2 days
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Ghost x plus-sized reader
2.1k | fluff, drink spiking Did you just call Simon weak? The rest of the 141 didn’t like that
“Can I carry you?”
At the pub table, you almost spat the last gulp of your drink at the question. You turned to the source of the gruff voice, meeting the man’s chest before craning your neck up to his eyes. He had to be over 6 ft tall.
You set your glass down. “I’m sorry?”
“My mates are betting I can’t get anyone to piggyback.”
“And you picked me?”
He nodded at your top. “Skulls are sort of my lucky charm.”
You scoffed, looking past him at the other ladies in the room. “Are you serious? There are plenty who weigh far less.”
His brow rose. “Are you calling me weak?”
You took in the width of his shoulders, how his loose black shirt couldn’t hide the thickness of his biceps – the left one inked. He was handsome, rugged with the scar across his cheek, his short blond hair and light scruff, but his stare and bluntness made him beyond intimidating.
How could you get out of this situation with the least fuss?
“N- no.”
His eyes softened a touch. “May I? Please?”
Playing along and getting it over with should be the safest bet. “Okay... But-”
He turned his back and squatted slightly. “Hop on.”
“Wait- are you sure you can?”
“Hop on,” he repeated.
At that point, it was not your fault anymore if he ended up embarrassing himself. So you gripped his hard shoulders and did as told before he swiftly hooked his large hands under your jean-clad thighs. He didn’t grunt or strain when he bounced you to position and straightened up. As if you weighed nothing, which was a feeling you never thought you’d experience.
You had to give it to him - his strength was impressive. You chuckled to yourself, seeing the top of everyone’s head amused you. Across the pub, the table of three men grinned at the massive stranger. The one with the mohawk was very much entertained as he gave him thumbs up.
It was then that Simon groaned, because his team was embarrassing the hell out of him. That, and he finally got to feel how soft and warm you were pressed up against him. A little creepy, but a man was allowed to fantasise about a birdie he’d been eyeing, right?
“That’s all, yeah? You just have to carry-”
He stepped towards the bar, making you latch onto him.
“Oh! Where are you going?
“I’m getting you a drink.”
“You don’t have to.”
“Please, I insist.” When he flagged the barman down, you held on tighter. “It’s the least I can offer for getting you involved.”
You laughed, your breath warm against his ear. “Are you going to set me down or am I having my drink on your back?”
“Don’t give me ideas.” He chuckled as he lowered you to your feet.
He leaned against the bar, arm folded as he stared at you on the stool, downing your shot before looking at yourself on your selfie cam.
“Would you… like something as well?” you asked after you tucked your phone back in your pocket.
He shook his head.
“Okay. Well, thanks for he drink. You could get back to your mates if you want.”
“I’m Simon,” he mustered instead.
“Hi.” You shifted in your seat. “Is something the matter?”
“No.” He frowned. “Why are you asking?”
“It’s just you’ve been staring, and there’s nothing on my face. I checked.”
Bloody hell, could he be any more awkward? He just wanted to ask why you were alone without being weird about it.
He looked away. “I didn’t mean to.” You make me stupid. It didn’t help that your previous drink had tinted your lips, looking even more kissable up close.
“I think your mates want you back though.” You chuckled, nodding at his table.
When he turned to them, they immediately busied themselves with their drinks, averting their gazes.
“They’re a nosy bunch, they are.” He inched closer to you. “The one in the beanie, that’s our captain. The other two are my sergeants.”
“You’re the lieutenant?”
He hummed. “The one with the mohawk is the prankster. He’s a bad influence. He’ll talk you into doing anything.”
“He put you up to this then?”
He shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips.
As if on cue, Soap looked up with an uncontained grin, only to look back down when he realised eyes were on him.
”Seems like he can’t wait to say hi.” He swiftly picked you up off your seat, bridal-style. “Is this enough to show you weigh nothin’?” he asked, fighting the urge to grab a handful of your soft thigh and waist.
“Oh- oh dear!” You laughed, arm wrapping around his neck, pretty fingers grasping his bicep. “Wait, wait, put me down!”
When you were back on your feet, you pulled your phone out of your pocket. “Sorry, I’m actually meeting someone. He’s almost here.”
So that was why you were alone. You were waiting for someone. Disappointment anchored at the bottom of his chest.
“Right. Okay.”
You smiled. “Thanks for the drink, Simon. I’ll see you around, yeah?”
He grunted and you headed to the end of the bar. He stood umoving for another second before retreating to his table like a kicked puppy.
“L.T., wha’ happened? She was havin’ so much fun!” Soap shot as soon as Simon took his seat next to him.
“She’s meetin’ someone,” he said quietly.
“Aww… Sorry, Ghost,” Gaz said. “But hey, she let you carry her!”
With your back to him, you looked at your phone whenever a man walked in.
Huh, first date?
You flagged down some other blond man who walked over to you with a smile. The barman took your order before you chatted with him with a polite smile, keeping a respectable distance between the two of you.
Simon was in no place to watch and invade your privacy – he really should look away. But what was it that simmered in him when the bloke scooted closer, his arm along the back of your chair?
He laughed, pointing at something on the TV. You looked up, and your hand deftly covered your drink, like an instinct.
He smirked. Smart girl.
“I know she’s with someone, but I can tell she likes you more,” Price said, and Simon finally tore his gaze away from you.
“Ye should fight ‘im, L.T. He dinnae stand a fuckin’ chance.”
“You can knock him out with a slap,” Gaz quipped.
He chuckled, blatantly looking over Price to you again. “Rather just look.” While it wasn’t for him, at least he could watch your pretty smile from here and quench his thirst a bit.
With the bloke’s drink in hand, he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, his other hand inching to your covered drink now. He tipped his glass over you, causing you to jump and grab serviettes to dab yourself with. Just as fast, his fisted hand opened over your drink before helping you.
“No fucking way,” Simon said out loud.
“What?” Gaz followed his line of sight.
He marched over, yanking the man around by the shoulder. “What the bloody hell did you just do?”
He stumbled off his seat from the force, making the lieutenant tower over him even more. “What? Who- Do you know him?” He turned to you.
His finger jabbed the man’s chest. “What. The. Fuck. Did you put in her drink?”
“Nothing! What are you accusing me of?”
Simon didn’t miss the crack in the man’s voice. He raised your drink to the man’s face, a tiny white tablet swaying at the bottom of the glass. “Empty your pockets.”
“Simon, what’s…”
“I’m not repeating myself.”
The man fished out his phone, wallet and keys with trembling hands.
“That’s not all.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. There’s nothing else, mate!” he said exasperatedly.
Simon’s patience ran dry. He patted his front pocket, hand bumping over something. “You need to see this,” he said quietly to you.
You hesitantly stuck your hand in the man’s left pocket, coming up with a bag of white tablets.
The man smacked the bag out of your hand. “You planted that, you slag!”
“If you didn’t do anything, drink it.” He spat, holding out your drink to him, now cloudy and fizzing.
He stared at the glass. “Fuck you,” he said, pushing it onto Simon’s chest before dashing out of the pub.
“Did he…”
“The fuck was that, Simon?” Price questioned from behind him.
“Fucking piece of shit spiked her drink.”
Price turned to you, a hand on your shoulder. “You got his name and number, love?”
“Yes.” You blinked. ”Yes, his number and dating profile.”
“I’m sending the coppas his way.” He picked up the evidence on the ground with a serviette. “Simon, get the details and make sure she gets home safe,” he said before approaching the barman.
You dried his ruined shirt with a wad of serviette. “I can’t even begin to thank you for your help, Simon. Really, thank you so much. I wouldn’t have-”
“You did good.” He squeezed your hand over his chest. “You covered your glass when you weren’t looking, but spilling his drink on you was something else.”
When you looked up at him with wide eyes, he dropped your hand.
“Would you like me to send you home?”
“I don’t want to trouble you. I don’t even live nearby.”
“Would you let me, if I want to?”
There was a pause before you smiled. “I think I’d like that, actually.”
When he grabbed his jacket from the table, Soap patted him on the back.
“Good catch, L.T. What a fuckin’ disgrace, the lad.”
“Have fun, Ghost,” Gaz teased.
Outside the pub where the streets were quieter, you forwarded the profile and chat screenshots of the man from your group chat to Simon.
“Can’t be too cautious. I’m not surprised if that’s not even his name honestly.” You shrugged, stuffing your phone back in your pocket. “I knew it was dodgy he insisted on meeting here when I said I’d rather somewhere in the middle, in broad daylight. That, and he was half an hour late too!”
It was disheartening to know this was the reality of dating, that all sorts of people lurked online, sometimes not with the best intentions. He’d show you his ID just to prove he wasn’t a creep, just someone smitten with a staring problem if any.
“If it was me, I’d have taken you anywhere you wanted.”
You chuckled.
“On my back too, if you prefer. I think you quite enjoyed that.”
“I did, actually,” you teased. “Is it a bad time to tell you I’m starving?”
“Yeah? That’s good news, because I’m always hungry. A kebab sounds about right at this hour.”
“Extra chips?”
“Extra chips,” he affirmed.
“You know what, I think this is my sign.” You pulled out your phone again, deleting an app. “Don’t think online dating was ever my thing.”
Is a stranger at a pub who shamelessly stares at you more your thing?
“Going out with someone who offers to carry me around is more like it.”
He bit back a smile. “So? Another ride on my back?”
You chuckled. “Next time,” you said, taking his arm instead.
As much as he enjoyed your touch, he couldn’t do with your fingers over his jacket. He needed to feel you. When he held your hand in his, you smiled up at him.
Simon had to thank his team for painstakingly convincing the stubborn lieutenant to approach the lady he’d been staring at. You didn’t have to know there was no bet, that asking to carry you was his own idea, an outrageous excuse to talk to you. But he wouldn’t complain if he ended up helping you, taking you for a little supper and even got to send you home.
“When’s next time?” he asked at your door, squeezing your hand.
You really shouldn’t have said it, because he was going to make sure there would be one. It had become a goal to show you how you deserved to be treated on a date.
“Is tomorrow too soon?”
“Right now isn’t even too soon.”
You laughed, pulling him down by the shoulder to meet your lips.
For @glitterypirateduck ‘s Ghost Challenge :D check out their page for fic recs!
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suashii · 2 days
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— 𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁𝑒 𝓂𝒾𝓈𝓈 𝒸𝒾𝓉𝓎 𝑔𝒾𝓇𝓁 ౨ৎ
boothill x f!reader. 2k wc. ノ non-canon compliant ノ sfw ノ some vaguely suggestive bits ノ farmhand!boothill ノ flirty teasing ノ pet names ( darlin', princess, honey, sweetheart. . . i went crazy @.@ )
my comeback to writing for hsr! first time writing for boothill so pls don't be too tough on me :3 hope u like ! !
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the new farmhand at your grandfather’s ranch is trouble.
he shouldn’t be, not with the way your grandpa speaks so highly of him—he’s exactly the kind of help this place needed, he tells you. starts on time, is thorough in his work, and takes good care of all that your grandfather holds dear. you should love him simply for that—taking a weight off the old man’s shoulders and putting his heart at ease—but you’ve seen an entirely different side of the so-called saint.
ever since you arrived at the ranch a few days ago, the one called boothill has been a pain in your neck. it took nothing more than you stepping out of your car for him to label you that city girl, the “little lady” who looks like she’s never stepped foot in mud a day in her life.
from that moment onward, it’s been nothing but sly remarks at your expense. you don’t miss the chuckles he makes no effort to hide as you refamiliarize yourself with the animals and get used to the scent of hay and manure. his not-so-subtle smirks when you’re simply passing by have been the most irking. your mere presence is seemingly a joke to boothill.
you’ve made it your mission to steer clear of the man but the task is proving to be difficult. the fact that he’s now living in what you used to know as one of the guest bedrooms coupled with your grandpa’s oblivious albeit innocent nature seems to be enough to throw a wrench in that plan of yours. 
your trip here was meant to be a relaxing getaway from the hustle and bustle of city life but you’ve only taken on a new role as boothill’s personal assistant if the tray with two glasses of lemonade is any indication. if it were up to you, you’d be enjoying a peaceful breakfast without worrying about the man bothering you but it’s just your luck that your grandfather caught you before you could make the meal, politely asking you to deliver a cold beverage to boothill who has been working since the sun rose over the horizon.
luckily for the farmhand, you can’t say no to your grandpa.
that’s how you find yourself wandering the grounds in your satin pajama set and the boots your grandpa prepared for your arrival. your legs move in muscle memory as you navigate the vast stretch of land in search of boothill. thankfully, you don’t have to go much farther, catching sight of the man at the entrance of the barn.
he’s gone for a simple look today—a white t-shirt and jeans paired with the dirtied boots you haven’t gone a day without seeing him in. his shirt is already stained and is darker around the neckline, dampened with sweat. he’s made an effort to tie back his black and white strands of hair, though, a few of the shorter ones have escaped and frame his face. the hat you’ve grown accustomed to seeing him in, strangely, isn’t sitting atop his head.
he must see you approaching out of the corner of his eye because he turns to face you, an immediate grin taking over his lips. it makes you grip the tray tighter.
he looks you up and down as he pulls off his gloves, stuffing both in his back pocket. when gray eyes settle on yours, he tells you, “nice get up.”
you roll your eyes because you saw a comment like that coming. everything you do down to the way you dress is scrutinized when it comes to him. even though you’ve only been here a short while, you’ve come to expect this kind of behavior from boothill.
he huffs out a laugh at your reaction before his gaze falls to the tray in your hands and the glasses that sit on it. “that for me, darlin’?”
against your will, your heart jumps in your chest. that, you haven’t grown accustomed to. you’re not sure you’ll ever get used to him throwing around pet names at you like it’s nothing, like it’s the most natural thing in the world to him. it’s easier to blame the heat blooming in your cheeks on the sun’s beaming rays rather than boothill’s sweet talking.
you hold the tray out to him, hoping the effect of his words isn’t visible on your face. “courtesy of grandpa.” you can’t have him thinking this gesture was born from the kindness of your heart. his teasing would be merciless then.
“of course,” he drawls, grabbing one of the glasses and swallowing a few gulps. the shine of the lemonade is left on his lips when they pull away from the brim, his tongue poking out from between them to lick up the lingering drops. your eyes remain on his lips longer than they should, long enough to see them curl up into that annoyingly handsome smile. “little miss city girl wouldn’t be caught dead out here on her own accord.”
he can only stay charming for so long. “did you miss the whole part when my grandpa told you i grew up here?”
“no, no, i caught that.” he takes another sip of his drink. “it’s just that you strike me as the type who spent more time riding the horses than cleaning up after ‘em.”
you keep quiet and nurse your glass of lemonade because the only other option besides lying is telling him that he’s right. in your defense, what ten-year-old wants to spend their summer hauling hay and shoveling up horse crap?
“look,” you start, “i’m not some delicate glass figure who can’t get her hands dirty. i’m perfectly capable of helping out.”
boothill raises his eyebrows, a glint of humor sparkling in his steel irises. you know the look of a challenge when you see it and it almost makes you regret trying to defend yourself. “oh yeah? then the princess wouldn’t mind lending me a hand?”
“i wouldn’t,” you tell him. contrary to your statement, you really don’t want to spend more time with him than necessary, even if that means proving a point and settling some stupid argument. your mind races to find a believable excuse that’ll let you off the hook. “but i’m barely dressed to do any work. another time, maybe.”
he waves his hand in dismissal. “don’t worry, darlin’. what i’ve got in mind ain’t much work and won’t steal too much of your time.”
you nervously chew your cheek as boothill takes the tray that’s tucked under your arm, setting the now empty glasses on it and finding a place for them to rest. he nods his head in the direction he wants you to follow and, reluctantly, you do just that. he casts a glance over his shoulder to look at you. “just help me get this hay inside the barn, will ya?”
the job seems easy enough, a surprisingly straightforward request from boothill who seems to derive pleasure from giving you a hard time. too easy, you think to yourself as he heaves one of the rectangular bales of hay from the top of the stack. the task looks effortless when he does it, a short grunt being the only suggestion of exertion on his end.
he disappears into the red building and you take his temporary departure as an opportunity to pick up a bale of your own. you grab a hold of the twine keeping the hay in its shape and immediately grimace at the way the fodder pokes and prods at your palms. you’re tempted to let go and step away but you have a point to prove and plan on doing so. with a groan, you lift the bale, or at least try to. it’s heavier than you expect it to be and the scratching against your exposed legs is uncomfortable, sure to get worse with the distance you’re meant to walk.
you’re about to drop the bale back in place when a pair of arms reach around you, calloused hands joining yours to carry the collection of hay. boothill’s unexpected presence catches you off guard and the proximity of his mouth to your ear makes your breath catch in your throat. “having a bit of trouble, love?”
love? your skin prickles with goosebumps at yet another pet name. this time, it’s more difficult to blame the heat running beneath your skin on the sun. it takes a moment for you to find your voice and when you do, the ones you manage to get out refute his claim. “i’m not. i told you i wasn’t dressed for this.”
he snorts at your reply as though he can see right through the flimsy excuse. “right, well, you’re in my way, so why don’t i help you with this one?”
before you can protest, boothill is on his way, dragging you along with him. your steps match his, his bigger boots trailing behind yours as the two of you walk the path to the growing supply he likely started before you interrupted. you’re released from your place between the bale and boothill when he drops it on top of the other.
you’re free to make a move, to slip away from the charged air and reclaim your personal space. instead of doing so, you simply turn around to face him. you’re met with his broad chest before you tip your head up to meet his eye. “i could have done that on my own.”
“i’m sure you could have,” he says, but the smile pulling at his lips tells another story. he reaches behind him with one hand to pull the gloves from his pockets, waving them between you as an offer. “these might help.”
you happily take the gloves as he takes his leave, slipping your hands into the protective gear. they’re larger than you need and there’s extra space in them but you don’t mind, not if they’ll help you show boothill that you refuse to be reduced to some city girl.
and they do help, at least with shielding your hands from the unpleasant sensation of hay against them. the bales are just as heavy and just as awkward to haul but you’re able to get the job done, nonetheless. for every one you carry, boothill lugs two more past you. his familiarity with the job means the two of you are finished one within a reasonable amount of time. 
you drop the final bale with the rest, a relieved sigh pushing past your lips at a job well done. boothill stands off to the side and whistles as you snatch the gloves off, wiping your forehead with the back of your hand. “well, would you look at that.”
“surprised?” you ask, tossing his gloves back at him.
“honey, anyone can hoist some hay.” he catches the gloves with ease, stuffing them back in his pocket. you’re almost offended at how easily he dismisses your efforts but you don’t have time to let the annoyance sprout before he’s approaching you, tipping your chin up so that you have no choice but to look at him. “though, i doubt they’d look as pretty as you doing it.”
you can’t tell whether he’s trying to get a rise out of you or if he truly stands by his statement. all you know for sure is that his sugary words and the feel of his skin against your face leave you unmistakably flustered, so much so that you can’t control the erratic beat of your heart and can’t stop the little nagging voice in the back of your head from whispering that you don’t dislike him as much as you let on.
boothill is trouble, but not in the way you thought he would be.
“i have to go.” you knock his hand away and turn on your heel in a rush to get back to the house, far away from boothill.
you can escape the sight of him, the feel of him, but not the sound of him as he yells after you. “see you around, sweetheart!”
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thanks for reading! consider reblogging if u enjoyed :3
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monstersflashlight · 2 days
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Hello! I love all of your stories. I binged them today lol your stories give me a ton of inspiration. I'd love to see your take on a minotaur x fem!reader in a college dorm shower room setting with the minotaur being in heat hehe. Or a vampire x fem!reader where the Vampire killed a mailman and delivers a "special package" in his place (reader ordered a sex toy? Maybe? Lol)
Hi! Sorry for the delay of this answer, adult life sucks real bad. I love both of your ideas, so I’m writing one now and the other one I save for a soon-ish future, hope you don’t mind me “stealing” it. So, hope you enjoy this and thanks for your kind words. It means a lot! <3
Special delivery
Vampire x fem!reader || sex toys, vampire compulsion, dub-con || tw: stalking, blood, murder
You are in the middle of cleaning the house when the doorbell rings. “One sec!” You ran to the door not worrying too much about your looks. It’s probably just the mailman. He’s an old dude who likes to look at your cat more than he likes to look at you, anyway. Which very valid, because your cat is a precious baby who deserves to be looked at.
But today it’s not your usual mailman. “Uh, hi? Where’s Ed?” You ask as you inevitably stare at the newcomer. He’s so fucking tall, build like a fucking mountain, too. You lament your choice of ratty shirt and ugly leggings as soon as you open the door. He’s fucking handsome, and you look like a rag. His hand is extended in your direction and a big box is being pushed into your hands.
“He won’t be able to make deliveries anytime soon.” The wording of that statement seems weird to you, but you don’t pay too much attention as you take the package. It’s probably just your new toy.
“How come?” You ask, not really caring but knowing it’s the polite thing to say.
“He’s… feeling a bit dry.” He chuckles at his own words and the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. A weird feeling creeping up your spine. You are about to close the door when he stops you. “Could you… Could you offer me a glass of water? I’m thirsty and forgot my bottle.” He explains. Your eyes met his, and you feel something inside of you twist and switch, like when a key unlocks a door. It’s the weirdest feeling you’ve ever experienced, but it fills you with a sense of calm so deep you feel high on it. Not even weed got you so tranquil and relaxed.
“Yeah, sure, come on in.” You say as he sighs and enters, smiling like a madman. You walk to the kitchen slowly, your extremities heavy. His heavy footsteps following close behind you, a bit too close. You think you hear him sniffing the air, but that couldn’t be. Everything smells like cleaning products, or at least you hope so.
“So what did you order?” He asks behind you. You realize the package is still in your hands.
“Oh, this. Just a new sex toy.” You answer, not really sure why you tell him the truth or why does he even care. But you feel compelled to tell him the truth. He chuckles at your answer and you think he says something along the lines of something has to fill that little human pussy, but you aren’t sure. You offer him a glass of water and he drinks it slowly, his eyes traveling down your body, your skin on fire. You start fanning yourself, too hot. What is happening to you?
“You are such a pretty human.” He tells you next, setting the glass down and approaching you. You stand there, frozen in place. His eyes are so deep, so compelling.
“Open the package, princess. Let’s see what you order to fill your precious cunt.” He tells you. You follow his instructions, showing him the bright purple tentacle dildo you ordered a couple days ago.
“Look at that… Someone has a pervy side. Do you want to fuck a monster, princess?” He asks, voice deep. He steps into your personal space, his chest pressed to yours. You crank your neck up to look at his eyes, breathing hard. He’s smiling, and there’s something about his smile that doesn’t feel right, but you can’t pinpoint what it is.
“What?” You ask, your brain spinning, completely confused. What did he say? What were you talking about? You feel dizzy, like your body is too hot and your skin is too tight.
“I’ve been observing you, princess. You always dance around when you clean. And you always wear almost nothing around your house. Your nipples are always visible under your clothes and it drives me insane.” He says as he takes your shirt off, exposing your bare tits to his hungry eyes. You should be scandalized to have a stranger staring at your tits, but you are just grateful for the cold air hitting your scolding skin. “I wanted to do this for so long.” He says as he launches at you and closes his hot mouth over your nipple, making you groan.
Your panties are instantly wet. You don’t know what’s happening to you, but his mouth feels so good. You grab a fistful of his hair and pull his head against your torso harder, making him chuckle and bite you lightly. You groan, arching your back, trying to get him even closer. “I need… I need…” You try to say, but your brain is empty, you can just feel his presence and your lust, your body completely out of control.
“I know, princess. I know.” He picks you up and sets you down on the counter, opening your legs wide as he rips your leggings and your panties, a big hole right over your pussy. The cold air feels great against your burning center. You whine. “I’m so thirsty… I need to drink. Would you let me, princess? Would you let me drink from you?” You look up at him, confused about what he’s asking, didn’t you give him water just a few moments ago? But then your brain snaps into place, and you register what is wrong with his face. His fangs are way too big, his eyes way too bright.
“What are you?” You ask, already knowing the answer.
“You know what I am, princess.” He whispers against your neck, his fangs pressing intensely against your jugular, not breaking the skin just yet.
“A vampire.” You whisper. A flash of Twilight crosses your mind, making you giggle as he looks at you expectantly. You move your neck to the side, giving him more space to suck on your neck. You don’t know why, but you want him to do it. To feed from you. “Bite me, please.” You beg.
He doesn’t wait any longer. He sinks his fangs into your neck and sucks hard. You didn’t know what you were expecting, but the sudden wave of pleasure wasn’t it. It crashes over you like a tidal wave and makes your pussy gush, forming a pool of juices under your ass. His fingers find your clit next, rubbing it as if he could read your thoughts. You move your hips against his hand, as he keeps pulling the blood out of you.
And then, there’s something pressing inside of you. You can’t look down to see what it its, but when it starts to breach into you, you realize it’s textured. He grabbed your new dildo and he’s going to fuck you with it as he drinks off you. Good lord, you shouldn’t be getting hot, you should be scared and frightened, but you are so horny you want to climb him like a tree. You need to cum like you need air.
“More, please.” You plead. And he gives it to you. He starts a punishing pace fucking you with the dildo. Your pussy so wet it makes filthy sounds against your gaping hole. He keeps fucking the dildo into you as you rapidly ascend into what feels like a storm building inside of you. And then it hits. The biggest orgasm you’ve ever felt crashes over you and makes you black out for a second, just to come back and still be coming. The pleasure is so big you trash against his arms, he holds you tighter, sucking more blood. The sensations are too much, too raw, and you love it.
You don’t feel when he retracts his fangs from your neck, but his tongue is hot and wet against the punctures and the dildo in your pussy is rapidly replaced by a very hard dick. He pushes into you in one hard thrust, grabbing your hips and manhandling you until you are suspended in the air. His arms are your only supports as he fucks your body onto his dick, hard and fast, forcing screams out of you every time he hits your G-spot. You feel weightless, wave after wave of pleasure hitting your body and leaving you limp against his hold.
You come again around his dick, taking him with you. The feel of his seed inside of you makes your insides twist with a new wave of arousal. You grab his hair and kiss him roughly, tasting your blood on his lips. He keeps fucking you until you’ve come so many times you can’t count, and when he gets his second orgasm, he fucks his cum right into you again, overflowing your used hole.
You are exhausted, almost falling asleep against him when he says: “Well, now I don’t feel that bad about killing your mailman.” He chuckles against your hair, kissing your head tenderly, his dick still nested deep inside of you.
“You what?!”
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haikyu-mp4 · 3 days
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Huge frog fan
word count; 807 – f!reader, very suggestive, Sendai Frogs is a university team
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You were never interested in sports. Even when you went to high school at Karasuno and your school’s volleyball team made it to nationals for the first time in a while, your sole focus was academic achievement. It garnered you the best grades but you realised the second you had those that you were burnt out. Now that you’re in university, you’re a bit more relaxed as it’s easier to balance school and student living. You’ve changed.
So you let your best friend drag you along when your university’s volleyball team were playing a game against another university, in exchange for her buying you a drink before the game. A great deal, in your opinion, as the sweaty men jumping around and passing the ball to each other so nicely wasn’t too bad either. “They’re so great at sharing,” you joked, making your friend look at you weirdly. “The ball, I mean.”
“Yeah, I got that,” she said, rolling her eyes.
Then your eyes actually zeroed in on one particular player who you hadn’t noticed yet because he was from the opposing team, and you coughed wildly as the drink got stuck in your throat. That’s fucking Tsukishima Kei, your closest thing to an academic rival in high school.
You caught your breath, eyes still stuck on him with disbelief because why is he suddenly not so lanky. He filled out the uniform quite nicely, and he must have gotten even taller. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“I have,” you said in the most dramatic voice like it’s an old movie. Your friend snorted, asking about who it was. “That one, Tsukishima. We went to high school together. He was... not this hot,” you answered, biting the tip of your thumb nail.
“The one with the glasses? Didn’t see that for you but go on,” she hummed in thought, not necessarily judging. As if in the nick of time, a break was called and he walked off, more huddled between the other frog shirts. Green wasn’t his colour, you lied to yourself. You couldn’t help how you zoned out as he seemed to be taping up his fingers, your eyes honed in on those hands. Those are some attractive hands.
You started smiling, sipping your drink with an extra slurp to make sure you had your companion’s attention. “He is so coming home with me.”
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After the game, you went to the bar for a glass of water, grabbing a straw so you can chew on it while sipping and looking around for the tall blocker. You hum under your breath. Did he leave the room already?
Your friend already left to get on with her business, but not before winking at you with encouragement. You got this, you repeated in your head until your view was filled with green. There he was, talking to another guy from his team who seemed to do just fine talking even though Tsukishima didn’t answer much. You tapped his shoulder.
Oh, wow. For a second, you couldn’t find your words, mind rinsing through less innocent thoughts at how he looked up close, sweat still leftover on parts of his skin, especially his neck. Suddenly the water wasn’t hydrating enough for you. And it got even worse when he lifted a hand to wipe away a drop of sweat, giving you another look at those hands up close. “Tsukki!” you cooed, knowing he at least didn’t like that nickname before. “Long time no see.”
He seemed to squint for a moment, either quite annoyed or making sure he recognised you from the right place. You’re different, but it’s definitely you. “Can’t complain about that,” he answered, and the meanness of it made you smile wider. Great, his personality is still terrible. Just your type. “Thought you weren’t interested in sports.”
“People change,” you said, a challenging spark in your eye as you traced your pointed finger down the middle of his chest. “I’m a huge frog fan.” You were so obviously teasing his team’s bright uniform and cute name that you were pleasantly surprised when one corner of his mouth seemed to tweak upwards even though the familiar tsk-sound fell off his lips. Score.
Next thing you knew, your back was pressed against the inside of the door to your apartment, one of Tsukishima’s arms on each side locking you in while his lips devoured yours. He moved on to placing hungry kisses on your neck, his arms falling to your sides while your heavy breath mixed with muffled moans rang in his ear.
He leaned in close to your ear, his words whispered and sending a chill down your spine that made you clench your thighs together before he forced his knee between them. “Your lips taste even better than they used to, but you’re still a brat.”
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rainbowcaleb · 1 day
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FICLET FRIDAY: My Flowerhaired Prince
Prompt: long hair Essek | Pairing: Shadowgast | Rating: T | Wordcount: 811 | CW: none
A trio of wind chimes ring in Caleb’s head. He puts his hand on the page of his book, and looks towards the front hall. The afternoon sun is low enough in the sky that the floor is confettied with colored splashes from the stained glass inset on the door. He watches and waits. There’s a shuffling against the door, but no secondary alarm goes off. Caleb lets out his breath and returns to his book. He’s borrowed it from Veth and it’s long past due to return to her. Apparently she’s trying to start a bookclub with Jester and this is their first pick. He smiles to himself; The Gale and the Raven is a rather raunchy pick, but he can see the appeal. The descriptions are lovingly, explicitly, detailed.
The door opens and Caleb turns his page. Only a rare few know where he lives, and even rarer who have a key. It has been seven years and his anxieties, while not gone, slumber like a cat in a sunbeam more often than they roar.
“Caleb, I’m back.” It’s Essek, because of course it is. He lives here, comfortably settled into life with Caleb, three cats, and friends who come and go whenever they are in town.
“How was the market?” Caleb calls out. “Do you need a hand?”
“No, no, it’s all in one basket. Ah, darling, you won’t believe how ripe the plums are right now. Mister Aplinn was kind enough to set aside a carton for me, which proved fortuitous as Jester’s pastry errand took a while first.”
Caleb finishes up his page and picks an envelope off the endtable to use as a bookmark. It’s the outside of the wedding invitation from Jester and Fjord, the contents of which he’s memorized.
“How is Jester? Did you send along my regrets? The problem with teaching isn’t the students, it is always the endless meetings—” Caleb stops talking. Essek has just entered the room. “Oh.”
Essek raises an eyebrow. “What is it?” He starts towards the kitchen to unload his basket. Caleb practically throws the book onto his seat and goes to follow him.
“Essek, you look…” Caleb feels completely tongue tied. Yes, he saw Essek just this morning, early sunlight through peachy curtains making his bare skin glow against the covers of their shared bed. But Essek has returned looking different.
“Yes, ah, well you see Jester is practicing.” There’s a hint of color starting to dust across his cheeks.
Caleb raises his hands and cups those warm cheeks and turns Essek to face him. “For the wedding?”
“Yes.” Essek holds his gaze. “Do you like it?”
“Dear, you look lovely.” Caleb can’t help but twist a finger around one of the curls that has fallen across Essek’s forehead. Jester has taken full advantage of the new shoulder length growth, braiding a crown of hair around his head and leaving the rest to gently fall in waves. Intermingled with the braids are fresh flowers; dainty pink, spring green, and blue petals frame Essek’s face like gilding surrounding a fine painting.
“Jester didn’t have a mirror, but I did try and glance in a shop window. It’s not really me, I would say, but—” Essek pauses, and Caleb can sense the words tumbling until smooth. “It is something new.”
It warms Caleb’s heart, and he can’t help but lean in and press a kiss to Essek’s smiling mouth. “If you wear this to the wedding, it is only fair that you braid my hair too. We should match.”
Standing this close together Caleb can practically see a sparkle in Essek’s eyes at the suggestion. “Yes, yes, a very good idea. But you can’t wiggle this time. It’ll ruin your hair.”
Caleb pouts. “When do I wiggle?”
Essek reaches up and threads his hand through Caleb’s hair, tugging a little as he goes. Caleb leans into his touch immediately, barely stifling a humming moan.
“See?” Essek kisses his neck, now handily bared as Caleb leans to his side. “You like it too much.”
“That simply means we need to practice, get it out of my system so to speak.” Caleb slides his arms down and around Essek, pulling him flush against him. “Good news, my evening plans are wide open. Shall we begin?”
“Caleb!” Essek does not pull away, but his tone is all playful admonishment. “But the food needs to be put away, the plums…”
Essek should have seen it coming. Caleb tugs him tighter, palming his backside in the process.
“Yes, the plum, which I have right now.”
That earns him a yank of his hair, but Caleb’s reaction is all reward, not punishment. Essek kisses the tip of his nose.
“Fine, you win. But you are making dinner afterwards.”
“Whatever you say, my flower haired love, now let me take you to bed.”
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cameronspecial · 2 days
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OMGGG, I woke up today and thought of smth. It's gonna take forever to make if you do make this, but..
Drew starkey and Y/N, they meet at a fancy restaurant like this GIF
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And Y/N thinks he's cute and she's like there waiter or smth and Drew is out for dinner w the cast to celebrate season 4 starting and she's just like really smiley or smth, anywaysss. They get eachothers numbers and talk a bit later that night and she finds out he's a Actor and he played in OBX and what not so she starts watching it and they eventually get tg after more talking. IDK, I WANT IT TO BE LONG LOWKEY, OR CHAPTERS OF THEM MEETING AND TALKING, HE FINDS OUT SOME HOW THAT SHE STARTED WATCHING OBX OR A MOVIE HE PLAYED IN AND SHES ALL BLUSHING AND EMBARRASSED, IDK ITS SM TO ASK- PLSSSS PLSSSS PLSSSSSSSSS PLEASEEEEE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE😭🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼
-Autumn
That's Him?!
Pairing: Drew Starkey x Reader
Warnings: N/A
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 0.8K
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Y/N has been texting Drew all day. She shouldn’t have slipped him her number last night, but he was too good of the match not to take the chance to get to know him better. The table he had sat at was big, filled with, who she assumed were, his co-workers. They were all polite and respectful, helping make her job easy by being patient and stacking their plates when they were done, yet he stood out to her even in the sea of faces. He was attractive, no doubt, and always caught her attention with the most charming smile. He would joke and try to make polite conversation as she served his table. So once the time for them to close their cheque came, she took the opportunity to write her number down on his receipt. It turns out, the feeling is mutual. 
I swear I didn’t know that Nair was a hair removal product. Logan didn’t believe me though. She giggles at his recounting of when he accidentally caused his brother to go bald, not noticing her sister’s arrival in the living room. 
The shift in the couch beside her causes Y/N to turn her sister. “Are you still texting that guy from last night?” Via inquires. Y/N bites her bottom lip to hide her smile, “Yeah. He’s really sweet.” “Well, hopefully, this turns into something more because you need to get laid. Anyways, I’m going to watch my show down here.” The older sister doesn’t say anything as her sibling picks up the remote and switches it to Netflix. 
Y/N continues her conversation with Drew, letting the show on the TV drown out in the background until a familiar voice sounds throughout the room. Her eyes flick up to the large screen and back down to her phone. She recognizes the buzz head and can’t believe his presence. She also doesn’t know why she never thought about asking him where he works. “That’s him?!” she yells, pointing at the screen. Via looks at her sister like she has grown two heads, “What are you talking about?”
“That’s Drew. That’s who I met yesterday and have been talking to.”
“Hold on, you are telling me that the Drew you have been talking to is Drew Starkey.”
“I guess.”
Via pauses the show and pulls out her phone. Her sister waits patiently as her sister types something in. The phone is turned in her direction and she looks at the various pictures of her new friend on the screen. “Yeah, that’s definitely him.”
———
After a few weeks of texting, Y/N and Drew finally set a date on their calendar. His hand rests on her lower back, leading her while the hostess shows them to their table. She sits across from him with a massive grin. His hand rests in the middle of the table and she reaches out to place her hand on his, almost knocking down her empty wine glass if it isn’t for his quick reflex. “I’m sorry,” she apologizes. “I guess I’m still feeling a little Kooky.” Her eyes glance towards his face to see if he reacts to her teasing. His face remains stoic as he tries to figure out if she used the word for the reason he thinks she did. She recognizes his attempt and pushes it even more by going over the menu. 
“I wonder if they have any fish. I’m in the mood for menhaden or as it is otherwise known as pogue.” 
Certain that the jig is now up, he sets his menu down to give her his full attention. “So you know?” he confirms. She nods, “Yes, I found out a few weeks ago when my sister was watching the show in the living room. How come you didn’t tell me?” He sighs, playing with the hoop in his ear. “I didn’t want you to treat me differently. Or for you to be scared of entering a relationship with me because I travel a lot for work and sometimes get followed by a crowd of fans.”
 She gives his hand a soft squeeze. “I understand why you would fear those things, but I promise you don’t have anything to worry about. You are still plain old Drew to me and I have a thick skin from being a waitress, I think I can handle a few teenage girls.” 
He gives her a thankful smile and holds his hand up to her, “Why don’t we start over? I’m Drew Starkey. I act for a living and I think you are the most beautiful girl I have seen. I would love it if you would go on a date with me. She giggles and takes his hand. “Nice to meet you, Drew. I’m Y/N. I wait tables and I would love to go on a date with you.” 
Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura @rubixgsworld
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pepsiboyy · 17 hours
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idk if you take fic requests! but maybe a fic based off of Greek God by Conan Gray. like Matt or Chris pretend they don’t like yn where they’re around their sport (whatever sport, you choose!) friends. they all have a really high ego and are cocky. but there’s a tension between M/C and yn bc they used to be friends until M/C got popular but yn didn’t so now they’re not friends cuz M/C let his popularity status get to him. but they sometimes speak on the down low (M/C doesn’t wanna be seen talking to yn) they’re families are family friends which is why they’re technically forced to still talk every once in a while. but eventually the tension gets too intense, and well, M/C can’t handle it anymore and it ends up turning into a childhood friends to enemies to lovers type story 🤭 ALSO, YN STANDS HER GROUND AND DOESNT LET M/C GET HER THAT EASILY, SHES NOT JUST GONNA FALL FOR HIM INSTANTLY CUZ HE FINALLY STARTS PAYING ATTENTION TO HER!! thanks!!
GREEK GOD.
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pairing: chris sturniolo x fem!reader summary: just read the request :p warnings: cursing, mentioned of alcohol, being drunk, use of y/n lol, angst (resolved sorta) a/n: THANK U SO MUCH FOR THIS REQUEST!!! i hope it's what you were looking for, i spent a lot of time trying to make this work :") thank you so much for the request!!
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i stood at the edge of the ice rink, my hands clasping together with high hopes.
i came to cheer on matt and chris, with nick seated beside me as he scrolled through instagram and snacked on some chips that he brought.
nick was my best friend, without a doubt. i told him everything. matt was one of my comfort friends. someone i didn't talk to as often as nick, but enough to where i feel fully comfortable talking to him about whatever may happen. chris, on the other hand...
chris was chris.
it was hard to describe the dynamic the two of us shared.
chris and i actually used to be closer than me and nick, or anyone, honestly.
he would pick me up when i fell, give me some of his snacks and even a sip of his pepsi if i wanted. he would reassure me when i felt low, and even put me in my place if he knew i was out of line.
before we knew it, high school rolled around. freshman year was relatively normal, sophomore year too.
junior year he started making newer friends, but he also had a different lunch period from the rest of us. i'd only really see him when matt gave me rides home.
senior year rolled around, and chris was a changed person. ever since he made it to the varsity hockey team with his new friends, he changed. he claims it's because we "grew apart" but we didn't. he goes out of his way to make me look bad in front of his friends, or even act like he has no idea who i am. it kind of made me feel stupid.
matt being on varsity with him didn't help his case at all, either.
so, when i came to watch them play, nick would sit with me and i would cheer on them both, even if chris pretended to hate me.
so, here i am. standing at the edge of the rink with nick, who was now standing beside me as we watched the two we knew and loved. matt effortlessly weaving past a defender, sending the puck flying towards chris, who sent it into the goal and made it.
the sound of skates cutting through ice was sharp in my ears, and the bright arena lights cast a glow over everyone while each and every cheer echoed in the cold air.
i remember when we all used to skate together freshman year here, the arena empty and our arms all linked together because i couldn't skate for the life of me, on matter how bad i tried.
those days felt like a lifetime ago now.
you had all grown a lot since then.
apart, apparently.
"hey, y/n, what are you doin' here?" a boy from the team questioned, skating to the glass with a cocky grin. "came to see the champ?" he asked, referring to chris.
i rolled my eyes and crossed my arms, allowing my eyes to trail elsewhere. "just here to support my friends." i mumbled.
chris glanced over, his expression neutral, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes - guilt, maybe, or recognition of the unspoken tension between them. before i could look away, he turned back to his friends, laughing at some joke i couldn't hear.
i sighed and took a seat beside nick again, letting out a soft hum as i did. the familiar sting of hurt and anger was beginning to get to me.
the memory of chris and i being inseparable, chris changing, chris making fun of me to his friends, all of it. it hurt. popularity inflated his ego, and i always refused to be an admirer in his little fan club.
after the game, i found myself lingering near the exit of the rink. i typically waited for the crowd to die and the traffic to slow down before leaving. it was too busy for me.
the locker room door swung open, and out poured the hockey team that was riding out the high of their win. chris was among them, laughing loudly and tossing his hockey stick over his shoulder. we met eyes for a moment, and his smile seemed to falter. until he leaned to a friend of his and nudged them, mumbling something to make them both laugh.
"hey, y/n!" chris called out. "didn't think you'd stick around here. still obsessed with me or what?"
i stared at chris with a deadpanned expression. "stop getting me to stroke your ego, christopher." i bit back, trying to keep my voice steady.
this shit was annoying, really.
chris's friends snickered, and he shrugged it off, turning away as if i were nothing more than an afterthought to him. "whatever. let's get out of here."
the group moved past me, their laughter seeming to echo in the hallway. i felt a lump form in my throat, but i refused to let anyone see me get upset over something to miniscule.
i knew this version of chris was a facade, but that didn't really make it hurt any less. the boy i once loved and cared for deeply was now buried under layers of arrogance and bravado, and i wasn't about to let him off the hook so easily.
the crowd began to die down, so i gathered myself and pushed out of the door, making my way towards my car.
as i walked towards the car, i saw chris again, this time with his brothers as they leaned against their minivan and talked about the game together.
for a moment, chris looked up, and our eyes met. there was a flicker of something in his gaze - regret, maybe, or a silent apology - but it vanished as quickly as it appeared.
he mumbled something to his brothers before he kicked off and made his way towards me.
"need a ride home? matt can take you." his tone was casual, but strained.
i stared at chris for a moment in disbelief, before quickly shaking my head and sighing. "no thanks. i can manage."
chris opened his mouth as if to say something, but then closed it, looking away. the silence between us stretched, and it filled with all the things left unsaid.
and with that, i turned on my heel and began walking home.
saturday. the days where the sturniolo household invited me for dinner were so much fun, genuinely. they were an amazing family. and chris typically acted normal around her when she was invited over.
i pulled into the driveway of their home, smiling softly to myself as i turned the music down. i pulled down the mirror and fixed my hand, humming to myself before taking my keys.
i was wearing something pretty cozy, just a crewneck and some bleached jeans and converse. they were like my second family, no need to get fancy.
i knocked on the door, where matt answered and pulled me into a hug of greeting. "hi, y/n," he breathed and smiled softly before leading me further into their home, where i was met with nick, marylou, their mother, and jimmy, their father.
"where's chris?" i questioned, the words falling from my lips faster than i could stop them.
nick exchanged a look with matt before he shrugged. "not sure, he just said he was going to some hockey party for their win last night."
i scoffed and nodded, taking a seat in my usual spot between nick and marylou.
the empty chair across from me was honestly quite intimidating. more than it would have been if chris were there.
chris was always the one with crazy stories and conversation topics.
we sat in a comfortable silence, though, which i'm sure nick and matt enjoyed as they listen to chris every day of their lives.
"you're still goin' to their hockey games and cheerin' em on?"
marylou questioned, and i turned to her and smiled. "yeah, they're really great, actually." i smiled softly, and marylou nodded.
"i know chris has been on a bit of an ego train, i hope he's still been kind to you guys." jimmy mumbled softly.
i swallowed and rubbed the back of my head. "yeah, he's been great, actually." i lied.
nick and matt stared at me, but decided not to question it before continuing their meal.
but then my phone began to ring, and everyone's attention shifted to me.
"i'm so sorry," i quickly mumbled as i removed it from my pocket and immediately felt every bit of air in my lungs leave.
why is chris calling me?
i rose to my feet and held up a finger, chuckling nervously. "i'm gonna take this," i mumbled quickly.
i made my way down the hall and to the front room. "hello?" i questioned softly.
"y/n/n," chris slurred on the other end. "i- i'm at a party, and.." he trailed off before giggling to himself, "i might.. need a ride home," he mumbled.
i sighed, rubbing my temple in annoyance. "where are you?"
chris mumbled an address, hardly coherent. "can you... can you come get me? please?"
i sighed to myself. "why can't you get matt or nick or something?"
"they'll get pissed," he stated, a little clearer than the rest of his sentences. "i don't want them to worry about me." chris struggled to get the word worry out of his system, making me crack a slight smile.
"fine," i stated as i fixed myself, "stay put. i'll be there soon."
i hung up the phone and made my way back to the dining room, where everyone collectively turned to me.
"everything alright?" nick asked, and i quickly nodded.
"everything's good, i do have to go, though. i'm so sorry you guys. i'll make it up to you?" i smiled. "i just, um.. have to run."
they all exchanged looks before nodding and bidding me farewell, nick walking me out.
i sat in my car and typed the address into my phone, rubbing my forehead.
i didn't enjoy parties. they were loud, sweaty, gross and full of annoying ass kids. usually.
and as i pulled up, it was just that. a typical high school party scene - loud music, teenagers spilling out onto the lawn, and the faint smell of alcohol and weed in the air. i found chris on the footsteps, his head buried in his hands. i quickly made my way towards him after parking and kneeled down in front of him.
"come on, let's get you home." i said, helping him to his feet.
chris leaned on my heavily as we made our way to my car. i buckled him in and got into the driver's sear, the tension between us palpable in the confined space. as i drove, chris mumbled some incoherent words, his head lolling against the window.
"y/n," he suddenly said, his voice clearer but thick with emotion. "i'm sorry."
i glanced at him, eyebrows raised. "for what?"
"for everything," he continued, his eyes half-closed. "for being an ass. for ignoring you. for... for all of it."
i took a deep breath as i felt a mixture of sadness and anger bubbling within me. i gripped the steering wheel tighter, unsure of how to respond. "you're drunk, chris. you don't know what you're saying."
"no," chris insisted, reaching out and touching my arm. "i do, i've been a jerk. i miss you. i miss us."
i pulled into my own driveway, knowing chris wouldn't want to see his family like this. i would just take his phone and send them a text saying he was with a friend tonight or something.
i turned off the engine and took a deep breath. "let's get you inside."
chris stumbled out of the car, leaning on me for support the whole way to the door. i fished for my keys and unlocked the door, quickly guiding him to my living room couch.
as i laid a blanket over him, he grabbed my hand as his eyes locked with mine.
"i still care about you, y/n. i always have."
my heart pounded, but i forced a laugh, trying to deflect the intensity of the moment. "sleep it off, chris. we'll talk in the morning, okay?"
i brushed a few loose strands from his forehead and stood up, turning off the light and going to my room. my mind raced with conflicting emotions.
part of me wanted to believe his drunken confession, but another part of me was still so angry. still hurt by the way he had treated me. as i laid in bed and stared at my ceiling, i couldn't shake the feeling that things between us were far from over. and that this was just the beginning of a much more complicated story.
the sizzling of the bacon on the oven was comforting, in a way. i had an airpod in, playing some softer, but upbeat music to get me up and going for the long, long day ahead.
i turned my head upon hearing some shuffling in the kitchen, meeting eyes with chris. "morning," he mumbled, rubbing his eyes.
"morning," i replied, placing a plate of food with bacon, eggs and sausage onto the counter in front of him. "eat up. you'll feel better."
he sat down and started eating, occasionally glancing at me as i cleaned up the kitchen. after a few minutes of awkward silence, he looked at me. "look, about last night.."
i crossed my arms and leaned against the counter. "what about it?"
chris looked down at his plate, poking at his eggs. "i meant what i said, you know. but i was drunk, and.. and maybe it didn't come out right-"
"maybe?" i questioned, my voice sharp. "you've been treating me like i don't exist for months, chris. one drunken apology doesn't fix that."
he winced at my words, but nodded. "i know, i've been an idiot. i got caught up in... everything. the team, the popularity. but that's no excuse."
"no, it's not." i stated, my anger beginning to bubble to the surface. "you think you can just waltz back into my life with a half-assed apology and everything will be fine? it doesn't work that way." i spat.
chris stood up, stepping closer. "i'm not asking for everything to be fine overnight. i'm asking for a chance to make things right."
i shook my hear, my eyes flashing with frustration. "do you even realize how much you hurt me? how it felt to be ignored, to be treated like i was nothing?"
"i do now," he said quietly. "and i'm sorry. truly. i want to make it up to you, if you'd let me."
i looked up at him, searching his eyes for any sign of insincerity. he seemed genuine, his usual bravado stripped away, leaving only the boy she used to know.
"i don't know if i can trust you," i admitted, my voice softer now.
chris reached out and took my hand in his. "i get that. and i will do whatever it takes to earn your trust back."
he pulled me into a tight hug, where i gently hugged his waist and took in his scent.
i missed this.
"just one date. give me a chance?" chris mumbled, the smile audible in his tone.
i hesitated, my mind racing. part of me wanted to say no, to protect myself from his bullshit. but another part of me remembered all of the good times.
"one date," i finally stated, my voice firm. "but this doesn't mean i'm just forgiving you, chris. you have a lot to prove."
he nodded quickly, his lips curving into a smile. "i promise i won't let you down."
i pulled away from his embrace and smiled at him before turning to the sink and doing the dishes. "you better now."
as i did the dishes, i felt a glimmer of hope mixed with lingering doubt. chris had a long way to go to earn the trust i had for him back, but for the first time in months, she felt like maybe, just maybe, things could change.
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kitchen-spoon · 14 hours
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Steve needs glasses
1989: Steve, Eddie, Robin, Nancy, and Max all live in Chicago together. Steddie and Ronance are in Established relationships and live together in apartments near each other. Max just moved to the city for university and Lives on Campus.
Before they all lived together Max figures out they are dating first and see’s Steve in glasses first because she cut herself pretty bad and was home alone. She goes to Eddie’s for help. He takes her to the kitchen and is cleaning her up when Steve walks out in his underwear covered in hickies with his glasses on asking what is going on.
Eddie is a mechanic. His style has changed a lot because of his job, he needs to dress more practical now. The few things he doesn’t give up are his septum and bridge piercings and his rings. He routinely takes them off and on everyday before and after work. Mostly he wears homemade muscle tank tops he cut himself that show his ribs made from band t-shirts. He wears work boots often now too. His hair is usually tied back into a ponytail and he uses his bandana to keep his bangs away from his face. His usual uniform also involves navy Carhartt overalls.
Steve works at a diner. On Wednesday nights he closes so Eddie, Robin, Nancy and max all come in after close and eat the leftover food that was going to be tossed. Nnacy doesn't come often because she usually has work the next day and can't stay up late so, Eddie and Robin deffer to Max for Stories about Steve when he first started dealing with the upside down.
Eddie’s suspicion about Steve needing glasses starts right before they get togther. At first it was because of how much Robin brought it up but he just chalked it up to their weird wonder twins friendship. when He really notices though is when they go to a college party thanks to Nancy and Steve spills his drink trying to pour it in the cup while sober.
Eddie gets his suspissions confirmed when het gets Steve to admit he has trouble seeing one night. They are in the garage together, Steve is ‘helping’ by passing Eddie tools. He asks Steve to pass him a specific sized ratchet and Steve passes him the wrong size Twice. Eddie just straight up asks if Steve has trouble seeing but, Steve gets defensive and is like ‘alright asshole I get it I’m not handy jesus.” But Eddie calms him down, apologizes and asks again letting Steve know he is serious. He mentions the party and other things (squinting at the remote when he puts on movies, always clips the corner in the hallway going into the washroom.) And Steve finally relents and admits "maybe I’ve been having problems for the last year." Eddie freaks out, "like year?! Jesus Steve you need to go to an eye doctor. Seriously." and convinces him somehow.
They go. Steve’s head injuries / concussions have weakened his right eye. He has Amblyopia or a lazy eye. His brain has a disconnect and can’t recognize sight from his right eye as well. He’ll have to get glasses and wear an eyepatch. (which he only wears around Eddie) They make another appointment so he can get tests done and they can get his prescription.
Once they leave the eye office Steve makes Eddie swear not to tell anyone about anything. They talk about how needing glasses makes Steve feel weak and less useful, how he won't be able to protect the kids as well anymore and they won't trust him to keep them safe. He also worries about how they'll make him look because he knows he is stupid so all he has left going for him is his looks which will be ruined by the glasses. Eddie sits and listens and then talks Steve through all his worries, especially the ones abut his looks. Its how they have their first kiss and subsequently start dating.
After that Eddie takes Steve to all his appointments and they have little dates after to feel better. For one appointment Steve has to have his eyes dilated so Eddie really does have to come. It's on a Monday so Eddie has to come in his workboots, coveralls, and bandana right after work. Steve gets his eyes dilated and Eddie helps guide him around. They go to the cafeteria while they wait and have milk and cookies because that is all that is left. Eddie soaks the cookie bits for Steve and feeds him. Eddie laughs and says it’s what Steve looks like when he is stoned
When Steve gets his glasses and hangs out with Robin, Nancy and Max for the first time Eddie goes in first and is like don’t say anything or he’ll never wear them again and be blind by the time he’s 40.
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aanxiousangel · 2 days
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𝕮𝖔𝖓𝖋𝖊𝖘𝖘𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘 { 𝕶𝖊𝖊𝖌𝖆𝖓 𝕻 𝕽𝖚𝖘𝖘 𝖝 𝕽𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗 }
🇦​​🇱​​🇱​ ​🇷​​🇮​​🇬​​🇭​​🇹​​🇸​ ​🇷​​🇪​​🇸​​🇪​​🇷​​🇻​​🇪​​🇩​ - ​🇮​ ​🇩​​🇴​ ​🇳​​🇴​​🇹​ ​🇦​​🇱​​🇱​​🇴​​🇼​ ​🇲​​🇾​ ​🇼​​🇴​​🇷​​🇰​ ​🇹​​🇴​ ​🇧​​🇪​ ​🇺​​🇸​​🇪​​🇩​ ​🇴​​🇷​ ​🇦​​🇩​​🇦​​🇵​​🇹​​🇪​​🇩​ ​🇮​​🇳​ ​🇦​​🇳​​🇾​ ​🇼​​🇦​​🇾​
notes: i just wanted to write my favorite ghosty boy again <3 send requests with whatever you'd like in my inbox <3
triggers: implied pining for years(?)
tags: implied smut, fluff?, friends to lovers, fwb to lovers?, pretty boy keegan <3
word count: 777
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“So gorgeous, princess. My gorgeous girl, huh?”
His breath escaped him as his eyes trailed over your exposed body. Completely enamored as he took you in. In his mind, you were like a glass of water at three in the morning. You were the first cool breeze of Autumn. The cool sensation of the ocean under the Summer sun.
“How did I get this lucky, hm?”
Keegan’s voice caressed your senses. Chills slid across your entire body as you laid your head on the fluffy pillows. Your lips twitched with a soft smile, eyes heavy with comforting lust. It was too bad this was just a friends-with-benefits thing. It could’ve been so much more. Something beautiful.
Though, tonight was different. So much different. He was taking his time with you, not one inch of you left untouched. His fingers threaded through your hair carefully, admiring the way you leaned into his touch. Moving to carefully trace the outline of your face, he watched the way your eyes fluttered at the motion.
Not to mention how deliciously soft his lips were on yours. It wasn’t an aggressive, hungry kiss. It was slow and desperate as if he needed your kiss as replacement for his oxygen. Calculated, his tongue slipped past your lips as you gasped for a quick breath. Why’d you have to taste so heavenly?
The moment his tongue grazed yours elicited a soft moan from your throat. Keegan’s lips curled into a grin against yours. A low chuckle escaped him as he continued to kiss you and caress your cheeks. Gods, did he love pinching your cheeks, teasing you for how you looked when you were pouting. It makes you look like a bunny, princess, he would say.
“My beautiful girl…” Keegan breathlessly pulled away, saliva connecting your lips together.
You nodded carefully, panting softly as you kept your eyes on him. He’s never used possessive terms with you before. What was different? Why now after years of shoving your feelings under the rug?
“Keegan,” you breathed out.
“Mhm, princess?” Keegan’s breath tickled your jaw as he littered kisses along the soft skin.
“You’re different.”
His kisses halted as your words registered in his mind. Different? His mind started to race as he lifted his head. You thought he was different? What did he do? Different bad?
“How?” His voice cracked slightly as he whispered.
“You’re normally rough, fiery… Let alone calling me your girl.” Carefully, you cup his face and bring him closer, “Don’t start something you can’t finish, Keegan.”
“You don’t want to be my girl, Y/N?” His voice sent chills running all over your skin again.
“I’ve wanted that for years,” your voice was as delicate as a dandelion, throat choking up with an unreleased sob that would rack your entire being.
Keegan pressed a soft kiss to your lips, brows furrowed as he focused on pouring every emotion into it. His breath ghosted across your lips as he poured his heart out under the golden glow of the sun.
“I’ve craved every ounce of you since the moment I met you. The moment you set foot into the military base. Fuck, seeing you outside of work,” Keegan’s words were trickling between his gentle kisses. “I could never get enough of you.”
You didn’t even get a chance to say anything before he continued.
“My beautiful girl,” Keegan praised sweetly. “My favorite vice. I was willing to risk it all for you. Took any chance I could to work alongside you. Your intelligence turned me on. Couldn’t take my eyes off of you, princess. Couldn’t stop listening to you talk. Wasn’t fair to me, princess.”
His teeth gently tugged your earlobe.
“I had to make sure you noticed me. That you were impressed. I couldn’t wait until you noticed me, princess. Until I was completely sure you were mine.”
Here come the waterworks. You sniffled as you listened to his confession.
“Years, Keegan,” you whined, “you made me wait years! It’s not fair.”
You didn’t even blink before you were in his lap perfectly. One arm wrapped securely around your waist as the other wrapped around your back. Keegan watched your surprised expression as he looked at you.
“You were worth any wait. I’ll make up every last second,” Keegan kissed away your tears gently. “I couldn’t risk messing this up, Y/N. I promise it wasn’t meant to hurt you.”
“You’re stuck with me now, Keegan Russ,” you let out a choked laugh, wiping away your tears with your palms.
“I’ll superglue you to my side.” He teased, running a hand through your hair. “Now, let me please my girl, yeah?”
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lees-chaotic-brain · 3 days
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𝙵𝙰𝙺𝙴 𝙵𝚁𝙸𝙴𝙽𝙳 (𝙾𝚂𝙰𝙼𝚄 𝙼𝙸𝚈𝙰 𝚇 𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙳𝙴𝚁)
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summary: he overhears your friend saying something unkind
wc: 1.5k (oops this was supposed to be a drabble)
cw: mild swearing, reader has adhd, stigma against adhd
haikyuu masterlist | blog navigation
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“...What makes you think I wouldn’t lose it? I have the worst case of ADHD anyone has ever seen, you seriously think I’d be able to keep track of it?”
Your lighthearted laughter as you teased your friend floated over the din of the cafe as Osamu entered it, there to pick you up. Unable to tamp down his lovesick smile at the sound of your voice, he immediately perked up when he spotted you and began heading over to where you were sitting with your friends.
You had a little bit of trouble controlling your volume, so he had been able to hear what you were saying earlier, but since then you had gone weirdly quiet. But as he made his way over to you, he became close enough to catch the tail end of what your friend said in response.
“...I mean come on. You can’t just blame everything on your ADHD. Like, when are you going to actually take responsibility for your problems instead of using it as an excuse as if half the population doesn’t have it?”
He didn’t have to see your face to know what your expression looked like. Just like every other time someone said something shitty like that to you, he knew that the hurt would only show on your face for a moment before morphing into a sarcastic and uncaring mask.
“I’m sorry, what?” Your voice had lost its boisterous joy from moments ago, and that alone made him want to storm over there and tear that girl a new one. Unfortunately he was well aware of the fact that you preferred to fight your own battles, and loathed feeling like you needed some man to come in and defend your feelings.
“I’m just saying.” Your friend rolled her eyes. “You’re so put together, and one of the most intelligent people I know. When are you going to stop using your ADHD as an excuse for your terrible work ethic?”
While the first part of what she said sounded deceptively nice, the hidden connotations in the barbed sentence did not go over his head, so it most certainly did not go over yours. Remembering all of the nights he spent holding you as you cried because someone had called you lazy, or told you that you could do it if you just tried, he made a mental note to himself to remind you of how amazing you are every day. As if he didn’t already.
“Wow.” Your voice had taken on a mocking, almost cruel tone. While most people overhearing would think you’re just being really nasty, he knew better. This was how you protected yourself. You pretended you didn’t care and mocked the person for their ignorance, then went home and asked him to hold you until your heart stopped hurting and the voices in your head stopped talking.
You took a slow, leisurely sip of your drink, before slamming the cup back onto the table with more force than necessary. “For someone who claims to have undiagnosed ADHD, you sure don’t know anything about it. Just so you don’t embarrass yourself in the future by spewing more bullshit like this, let me give you a few pieces of information.”
Leaning back in your chair, you began ticking off items on your fingers as you spoke. 
“One. Telling someone with ADHD to “just focus” is like telling a person with glasses to just see better. We want to, but we can’t.” You level a pointed look at her glasses and Osamu notes with satisfaction that her face is beginning to get flushed with embarrassment. You continue.
“Two. A lot of people with ADHD are actually insanely smart. They have to be. People in classes like ours who have ADHD and struggle with paying attention and staying on task need to be intellectually gifted to survive in school. It’s the only way they can keep up. Which brings us to point three.”
The overly sweet smile you give your so-called “friend” tells him that you’re about to say something you’ll regret later, but he can’t bring himself to stop you because anyone who hurt your feelings deserved what was coming for them. If that made him a bad boyfriend then he didn’t really care. He would just comfort you later and tell you that you aren’t a bad person for putting a judgemental asshole in their place.
“Point three: don’t go around telling people that you have undiagnosed ADHD. Like I said before, people with ADHD typically need to be smarter than the others in their class to keep up, especially in an engineering major. Which is exactly why no one is going to believe you. Frankly, you’re just not smart enough. You’re barely hanging on as it is. If you really did have ADHD you would have flunked out by now.”
Checking the time on your phone you gathered your stuff and stood up. “Sorry. My boyfriend is probably here by now. Although, something came up. I think you’ll need to find your own ride back. Sorry.”
Surveying the area where you had sat, you double checked to make sure you had everything, pausing and looking back over your shoulder just as you were about to leave.
“Oh, and by the way.” You shoot her a saccharine smile. “I really appreciate you thinking that I’m really put together. Unlike my intelligence, that’s all an act, so I’m really flattered that you thought that about me. It means a lot.”
With that, you turned and came face to face with your boyfriend's chest, nearly falling on your ass. One of his arms wound around your waist, pulling you against him and keeping you upright while the other snagged your bag and threw it over his shoulder.
“Samu?!” You look up at him in surprise and he just smirks and guides you out of the restaurant. Once you’re in the privacy of his car, you speak again. “...How long were you standing there?”
“Long enough to hear the bullshit she spewed.” You look down, pretending to pick at your nails, but he knows you’re just trying to hide the tears welling in her eyes. 
“I really thought she was my friend.” Your voice is quiet and watery, completely different from the one you used with your friend just seconds ago in the cafe. “Maybe she’s right. I was probably too mean to her. I apologize to her-”
He was going to let you apologize, knowing that nothing he said would take away the guilt clawing at your insides, but then he saw the contact name.
“Her??” He pointed incredulously at the contact name. “The girl in there was her?? The one who was super mean to ya last year? I thought ya said ya weren’t friends with her anymore!”
Flushing, you tilt your phone away from him. “Well, I didn’t want you to worry. She got nicer, I swear.”
His eyes narrow. “Uh-huh. And what she said to ya back there definitely reflects just how much she’s changed.”
With a quick stretch of his arm, he snatched your phone out of your hand and slid it into his pocket, fending you off with one arm as he started the car and pulled out, causing you to cease your physical attempts at reclaiming your phone.
“Osamu Miya!! You give that back!! It’s not up to you who I’m friends with, and whether or not I apologize!”
“I know that.” He mumbles, keeping his eyes on the road. “I just don’t like seeing ya sad. And yer always sad when yer friends with assholes like her.”
“Oh, Samu…” Your voice softens and you take his free hand in your own. “I’ll be okay. Really. Honestly she’s probably trying to help me. She just wants me to fix what’s going on-”
“That’s exactly what I mean!” His knuckles turn white with how tightly he’s gripping the steering wheel, but his grasp of your hand is nothing but gentle. “There’s nothing wrong with ya! She says shit like that and you believe her! Yer perfect the way you are, and I hate that you spend time with people who make you feel less than that! I don’t care who yer friends with. I just want them to treat you well. The way ya deserve.”
You deflate, your grip on his hand tightening and he sees you wiping your eyes out of his peripheral. “I know. I know you're right. Can we just...talk about this later? I just want to be sad right now."
'"Of course we can babe. We don't have to talk about it at all if you don't want to. I'm just not letting you apologize to her because she doesn't deserve it."
You laugh, and the sound does things to his heart. "I love you so much Samu. You know that, right?”
He squeezes your hand tightly, knowing that no matter what, the two of you would be okay because you had each other. “I know. And I love ya a million times more than that.”
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taglist: @arlerts-angel @ponderingmoonlight
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Wille's Month - Friends
day 16! 💜 @youngroyals-events are yall tired of me yet lol
Wille and Simon are very good friends, indeed.
read below the cut or on ao3 (G, 1.5k) <3
The weather is so nice, and Simon looks so beautiful, with his late summer tan and still-damp curls from their shower that morning, that Wille barely notices the little bakery his boyfriend is dragging him into. 
As a last hurrah before the winter months, they’ve taken a trip to a random little northern town to swim and lounge and play house together. Technically, they already live together and had done so for a few years, but there was something so domestic about sitting in the backyard of their rented villa, sipping coffee in the morning. There was something, still domestic but in a different way, about being as loud as they wanted without having to worry about the neighbors. Making dinner in the big kitchen and shouting across the house, it felt like a window into the next many, many years they’d have together. The whole trip had been so easy, so calming, and Wille just loves Simon so much, and is so grateful they get to have this life with each other. 
A small bell on the bakery door rings as they enter and Wille is hit with a wave of sweet jam and crisp pastry. It’s a small space, but the owners have managed to cram a lot in. Bookshelves line the walls, filled with a mixture of books and picture frames and random art pieces. The tables and chairs are a charming mixture of woods and metals, all different colors and sizes. 
From behind the counter, a small old woman perks up, eyes immediately zeroing in on Wille. Her attire matches the maximalism of the bakery, with at least three different animal prints and several necklaces stacked around her neck. A large pair of square glasses sit on her tiny nose, partially blocking the heavy pink blush on her round cheeks. He braces himself, never knowing how people – especially older folk – are going to react to seeing their Ex-Crown Prince, and he can’t read her face. 
“Kronprinsen!” In a flurry of movement, at a speed truly impressive for such a small lady, the old woman pops up from her chair and rushes around the counter. She pauses only for a moment to give a small curtsy, like an afterthought, before rushing off to begin wiping down tables and straightening the millions of knick-knacks scattered around the room. Before Wille can correct her, she’s rambling, face drawn up in a serious expression, “I told Robert, I said, one of these days the Prince is going to show up and you’ll be sorry you didn’t clean up like I told you. Every day I tell him he needs to wash the windows– I can’t reach the tops of them except with the stool, so he tells me he’ll do it because he doesn’t want me falling off– But, here we are, years later, and he still hasn’t cleaned the damn windows!” 
Wille and Simon stop just inside the door, watching as the tiny tornado of a woman flits around the room, continuing to complain about ‘Robert’. She has a no-bullshit but almost whimsical manner about her that reminds him of Maddie. Realizing she may never stop, Wille gently interrupts her when she pauses to inhale between sentences.
“I’m actually– I’ve stepped down,” he says quickly, unsure how to break this news. “I’m just Wilhelm, now. Just Wille.” 
This makes the woman stop in her tracks. He tenses, expecting her to yell, but when she turns to him, she doesn’t look too upset. She simply looks a little curious.
“Have you? Why’s that?” 
“Um.” He isn’t exactly sure how to explain this, either. “I didn’t– It just wasn’t for me?” 
It comes out as a bit of a question, and it’s probably not the best response he’s given about the whole thing, but it’s been a few years now so people hardly ask him anymore and he’s out of practice. Simon gives a slight chuckle beside him at Wille’s fumbling, but the old woman doesn’t seem to care, just nods and approaches them. 
“Well, good for you. I don’t watch the news much, so I must’ve missed it.” She sticks out a tiny hand. “I am Ebba. This is my bakery. Been mine and Robert’s for decades, now, not that he does anything around here, the old fart.” 
As Wille and Simon shake her hand, they manage to introduce themselves quickly before she starts on another rant about the history of the building, and how she makes all the pastries and pies herself, and how any of the art and books are for sale, too, if they’d like. 
“Are you here for breakfast? Lunch?” Ebba totters back behind the counter. “What can I get for you? The scones are fresh, just took them out of the oven a few minutes ago. What are you two doing in town?” 
Noticing Wille’s astonishment at this burst of energy in the form of a 5’1” woman, Simon takes the lead, approaching the case and nodding intently as Ebba begins explaining every option. 
“These are all very beautiful, Ebba,” he says kindly, a bright smile on his face. Simon has a way with people that makes Wille feel like a bit of a dunce sometimes. It’s supposed to be Wille charming people, who is the former-royal and had actually taken classes in this, but something about the light in Simon’s eyes and the kindness in his heart draws people in. Ebba has not actually smiled yet, just spoken at them with an intense stare, but even Wille can tell she’s taken with Simon, offering him samples and answering all of his questions with excitement. 
“That one looks really good.” Simon points to a random pastry in the case, half-distracted by the sample of cookie he’s currently chewing on.
Noticing the small label, Wille cuts in, “That one has raisins, you won’t like it.” 
“Now, that’s a good friend, right there.” Ebba nods her head in approval. “My dear friend Susanna doesn’t like raisins, either. She does like this other one, though. It’s similar but without raisins, if you’d like to try.” 
Both men freeze. Wille opens his mouth to correct her, but she’s already grabbed a different pastry and is telling them more about her friend and how Susanna shares the bounty of her garden with Ebba so she can use the fresh fruit and vegetables in her pastries. He glances at Simon, who just looks back at him with a smile and a shrug. 
“She sounds like a lovely friend, Ebba,” he says when she hands over a sliver of pastry. “And you’re right, Wille is a great friend. He’s always looking out for me.” 
Simon reaches out and gives Wille a friendly pat on the shoulder, but then slowly slides his hand down Wille’s back and pinches the soft skin of his hip, saying, “He knows exactly what I like.” Ebba doesn’t seem to notice the drop in Simon’s tone or the way Wille’s knees buckle slightly at the look Simon is giving him, she just nods again. 
“How long have you two been friends, then?” 
“We met in school,” Wille squeaks out when Simon looks up at him expectantly, hand now having traveled a bit lower to slip into the back pocket of Wille’s shorts. 
“That’s nice,” she says. “You know, my son is also still very close with his best friend from school. That boy is like my second son, after all these years. Of course, they’re married now, but the principle stands. Lifelong friends are very important.” 
Wille lets out surprised chuckles at her words. As Ebba continues to tell them about her son and his husband, Wille leans over to whisper, “Do we not look like a couple?” 
Simon shrugs and smiles teasingly. “She must have missed your hard-launch speech all those years ago.” 
“Sounds like I need to put a ring on it, so people know you’re mine,” he mumbles into Simon’s ear, relishing in the goosebumps that break out across his beautiful skin and the tiny gasp that falls from his lips. Simon squeezes at his bum with the hand still tucked in his back pocket, and Wille has to swallow a yelp. 
Ebba continues to tell them tons of rambling stories, but eventually they manage to pick out a few pastries for an early lunch and tip her kindly for her time. Wille finds a cute ceramic on a shelf and buys that, too, which Simon rolls his eyes at. They wave goodbye, promising to come back and visit, and exit the bakery.
Wille holds out his new purchase, a well-crafted sculpture of two orangey-pink fish kissing, and giggles. “It’s us.”
Simon hums and wraps his arm around Wille’s waist, leading him down the street. “Friends don’t kiss like that,” he says.  
Wille steps in front of Simon, then gently grabs him by the chin and presses a lingering kiss to his lips. “Good thing we’re not friends.” 
.
“Are we not friends?”
“Simoooon.”
“I’d like to think we’re both, at the very least.”
“You know what I meant. Come here.”
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swallowerofdharma · 2 months
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Yashiro’s Cruel God part four
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There are probably brilliant analyses out there about the first part of this manga and what I say might as well be just an uninteresting repetition. But we analyze things for ourselves first, to understand them better, to make sense of a story for ourselves, so I’ll give it a try anyway.
Continuing my thoughts on Doumeki and another digression: You’ll be fine. I’m a man and you’re different from your father, right?
If there hasn’t already been a tension within Yashiro between his nihilistic tendencies and his yearning for change, the story wouldn’t be possible. If Don’t Stay Gold is the original one-shot where Yashiro appeared as a background character, when Saezuru begins that some story is repurposed masterfully as a critical starting point for a Yashiro that is now a main character: This setup would become nothing more than a knife that gets thrown right back at me. You can already see this is going to be brilliant writing. When Doumeki was introduced, Yashiro had to be at a point where he was ready to let go of Kageyama, but - at same time - the fact that he had wished for them to be more than friends, that this was something he had remained open to, despite his past and despite his failures, was essential to show a believable story of him falling in love with someone else. What about Doumeki then? I have been asking myself, what are Doumeki’s motivations for being so persistent?
Yashiro is captivated immediately by Doumeki’s eyes, he makes a comment about it and later, in chapter 4, Yoneda captivates the readers too with a beautiful page with no words that isolates Doumeki’s eyes in the rear view mirror of the car, while his gaze is focused on a melancholic Yashiro. The previous sequence, at Kageyama’s clinic, was in large part framed coherently with Doumeki’s point of view as he witnessed for the first time Yashiro interacting with his doctor friend. In chapter 23 Yashiro realizes something unexpected about Doumeki. The English translations of this dialogue varied, I’ll reference here the official translation: The truth is, we’re not similar, at all. From the beginning you were always different. That’s why you look at me like that. With different eyes than his. Yashiro’s expression here is fearful and lost, because he only had those few points of reference, and those he cared for most were his parents who had abandoned him and Kageyama who had rejected him.
After Yashiro was injured on Doumeki’s watch, Nanahara orders him to cut his finger off. Needing medical attention, he goes to Kageyama and tells him about what happened. The doctor’s reaction here is so cold and heartless that if at this point you care for Yashiro at all you can’t help feeling really hurt hearing his words.
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The source of Kageyama’s cruelty is his ignorance. He doesn’t know Yashiro well or rather he has built a static image of him and he can’t shake it; he constantly shows how shortsighted he is when it comes to his supposed best friend. And I remember reading people’s thoughts about the symbolism of the contact lens that Yashiro stole, so I think that was sufficiently discussed. I’ll add my two cents to this topic, because I find it interesting the detail of Kageyama being the son of a doctor and becoming one as well, not a very good one he said himself. When his classmate Yashiro told him - in that awkward and nonchalant way of his, another product of the distorted reality that his parents left him with - about the abuse he had endured from his stepfather, Kageyama stops touching him, doesn’t get closer anymore. I think that in his mind, because he had already internalized attitudes that come from medical practice just from his father, in that moment Yashiro stopped being someone he could touch because he became a “case of child abuse”, someone he needed to emotionally distance himself from. I wonder if there are readers doing the same. When Yashiro goes to his father’s wake, Kageyama is happy to see him there, that his classmate cared, but later Yashiro, so unaccustomed to his new delicate feelings, fumbles badly for the right words and any potential connection falls flat. Yashiro didn’t really need confirmation that Kageyama wasn’t straight, he had understood that much, or that the reason he was rejected had to be a different story. Kageyama’s shortcomings now and later are tied to his inability to perceive Yashiro as a full person, capable of yearning, of changing, of suffering from something else rather than the obvious. Yashiro becomes a “mental case” and the good doctor can’t do anything much about it, since it isn’t his specialty. He’ll stay as a friend, but unkind. And when Doumeki discovers that the only person Yashiro is attached to could be so unsympathetic to him, he is angry. Doumeki doesn’t confront Kageyama, for Yashiro’s sake, mostly, for reasons of hierarchy and responsibility, he needs to treat respectfully someone who is on equal standing with his boss. The ones who confront Kageyama are Kuga and Nanahara and it works: when Yashiro brings Ryuuzaki’s girlfriend to the clinic, Kageyama’s perception of him has changed and readjusted.
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Doumeki could see glimpses of Yashiro’s yearning, of Yashiro’s love, and he is still determined to see it through now as he was before. He won’t let go or accept lies from Yashiro and about Yashiro. Doumeki isn’t just foolishly in love and enduring everything that comes with it, he wants to know. His motives are layered with the stubbornness that comes with detective work, after what happened between them in chapter 25, he wants to confirm that Yashiro reciprocated his feelings, because he also needs to prove himself that he isn’t a rapist, he isn’t just like his father. He fully committed to it. Only if we acknowledge our selfish reasons, we can really be honest about our feelings, about how we open ourselves to others, how we want them, and all the things we want from them. Yashiro and Doumeki aren’t letting go of their feelings in part because they need a confirmation that they are good enough. And that’s why this story surpasses the romantic premises about love and makes sense from a very down to earth, realistic perspective of how grown men behave, too.
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We established that Doumeki is someone who was looking closely at Yashiro since the beginning and won’t stop looking for the truth until he is satisfied. The root causes of his conviction and commitment are various but ultimately go back to his sense of failure regarding Aoi. He aimed to be and became a policeman and failed to see something that was right under his eyes. To be continued…
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that-house · 4 months
Text
Potion Vendor FAQs:
What’s your name? I am the Honorable Alchemist Zykocea the Radiant, but that’s mostly just a PR thing. My friends call me Zoe.
Do you sell love potions? No.
Do you sell potions of invisibility? No.
Do you sell fire resistance potions? No.
Why do I have a suitcase? Fuck if I know. Cool outfit though. Very goth.
Do you sell a potion to treat brain hemorrhaging? No.
So what CAN your potions do? I sell health potions.
Are you sure these are health potions? They do something to your health.
Is this just ditch water with some pink glitter? No.
Really? I’ll have you know I added some fruit juice too.
Why is this starting to sound like a conversation? Oh just you wait. We’re just getting started.
Is your business model legal? Fuck no. I poisoned the food safety inspector before they could snitch.
Did you just admit to murder? Just fucking try to convict me. I’ll poison the judge too.
So can you make poison potions? No.
Then where do you get the poison? I secrete it from my skin.
Are you shitting me? Yep, I’m shitting you. I have a guy. A poison guy. He DOES secrete it from his skin though.
How does that work? …Fuck if I know. Maybe a wizard did it. Damn, now I’m kinda curious.
You never asked? The idea of asking literally never crossed my mind.
Wanna ask him? Let’s do it. I don’t have anything better to do, and a road trip beats sitting around running my fraudulent potion business.
Road trip? He lives in Seattle.
Your poison guy lives in Seattle? All poison guys live in Seattle.
For real? All the poison guys I know live in Seattle.
And how many poison guys do you know? Just the one.
Why are you like this? Years of living on my potions. It changed me.
Do you know what his address is? Nope. He just mails me my poison in unmarked boxes.
You just get your poison in the mail? We already poisoned everyone who could do anything about it.
So how are we going to find him? We’ll figure that out eventually I’m sure.
Can I drive? God no. You can pick music, but I maintain veto rights. Make sure you pick something with a lot of questions if you want to sing along.
Where’s your car? The garage connects to my house, so you’re getting a little tour. Here’s the kitchen: only one of the stove burners works and I’m pretty sure the microwave is haunted.
Why do you think that? Because of the ghost that tries to kill me whenever I run it.
What’s in that room? That’s my bedroom. It’s pretty much just a mattress on the floor and every single Warrior cats book.
You were a Warriors kid? Yeah, and then I never found the time to put the books away. There’s so many fucking books. I use them in place of furniture because I can’t afford chairs.
Your fraudulent potion business doesn’t make much money? After buying all that poison I just about break even.
Can I see your potion brewing room? It’s right through here. Ignore the mess, running a fraudulent potion business takes a lot of prop work, but I’ve got all the glass tubes and colorful liquids you could ever want. This pink stuff is melted watermelon italian ice. Glitter vat is in the basement, and the famous ditch is in the backyard.
Is this your car? My beloved ‘72 Corolla. She’s beautiful, and don’t you dare imply otherwise.
Was she always this shade of muddy brown? …Yes.
Are you sure I can’t drive? Get in the fucking passenger seat and pick the music.
Let’s see, a song with questions in it, how about The Beach? That Wolf Alice song, yeah. That should work.
When will we three meet again, in thunder, lightning, in rain? Still sink our drinks like every weekend but I’m sick of circling the drain.
When will we meet eye to eye? We clink the glass but we look at the floor.
Are we still friends if all I feel is afraid? You’re not a bitch but just a bit when you’re bored.
Is that all we can sing together? Yep. Even that little bit was nice, though. It’s awkward, communicating through this FAQ format.
Got any food? Yeah, there’s a few days’ worth of snacks in the back.
Were you just… prepared to go on a road trip? Says the woman who brought a suitcase to an FAQ.
I did do that, didn’t I? I have a spare toothbrush in case you forgot yours. I’m pretty sure you did.
How did you know that? …I’m psychic.
Yeah? No.
You love lying, don’t you? I can’t stop. It’s fun. Way more fun than telling the truth.
Did you just miss a turn? Probably.
Are you sure we’re not lost? No.
You mean you’re sure we’re not lost? No, I mean I’m not sure we’re not lost.
Why did I come on this road trip? Surely it was my winning personality.
Would it help if I said it was? It would.
Is it getting dark? Soon.
Can you describe the sunset to me? An empyrean flame, red-gold towers of darkening clouds, the sky behind them an ever-deepening indigo. The great eye of the sun closes on the horizon. The road before us looks like a trail of spilled paint, an iridescent gash through the night-dark woods.
Did you know that you’d make a slightly better poet than you do a potion seller? That really isn’t saying much, huh. Good job making a statement like that in question form, though. You’re getting good at this.
Should we find a motel? Sure.
One room or two? One. It’s way cheaper, and like I said: I’m not the best potion vendor.
You’d make a good assassin, though, wouldn’t you? Shit, you might be right. I HAVE poisoned a lot of people.
Should I be endorsing this? You’re a grown woman who can make her own choices.
Would you like to consider it endorsed? I’ll consider considering it.
How many beds do you think there will be? Now that you’ve asked that, I’m gonna put my money on one. Hello, one room please. Thank you, we’ll be sure to enjoy our stay.
How many beds are there? One.
Oh no, what ever will we do? Move over, you motherfucker, you can’t have the whole bed.
Are you gonna make me? Yes. I am going to pick you up and drop you on your side of the bed.
How did you get so strong? You’re not gonna believe this, but it was the potions.
Oh yeah? I was right. You didn’t believe me.
For real though, how did you get so strong? Working out, duh. Not everything has some big crazy secret behind it. World’s still beautiful though.
Are you comfortable? This beats the mattress at home. A little chilly though.
Wanna cuddle–for warmth of course? God yes.
Are you asleep? …
Yes? …
Does this mean I can talk about you behind your back? …
What should I say? …
Did you know that I had a really nice day? …
Did you know that I think you’re beautiful? …
Did you know that I can’t remember anything from before today? …
Did you know that I don’t know who I am? …
Did you know that you’re basically the only thing stopping me from having a full-blown panic attack about all this shit? …
Did you know that you’re warm? …
Did you sleep well? Better than at home, that’s for sure.
Did you know that you snore? I hope I didn’t keep you up.
Does the pope shit in the woods? No, as far as I can tell. Oh my god. This is huge.
What is? You can give me yes and no answers now. I still can’t ask you questions, because this is a question and answer format, but I can offer leading statements and now you can answer them! This is wonderful!
Does a deer shit in the woods? Yes, it IS wonderful. Oh that’s amazing. You’re a genius.
You didn’t already know that? Hahaha!
Shall we get moving? Yeah, just let me grab something from the vending machine.
Can you get me something? Go ahead and place your order however you can.
You know those sour gummy watermelons? One pack of Sour Patch Watermelons coming right up. I’m gonna go get myself a potion.
Is that a Pepsi? It’s closer to a potion than the shit I sell.
Let me guess, passenger seat again? Right you are.
How fast are we going? You’ll feel safer if you just guess.
Is it more than 120 miles per hour? Like I said, it’s probably better if you don’t know.
150? Sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride.
How much do you trust this car? She hasn’t blown up on me yet.
Can you promise me we won’t crash? I can promise you anything you want.
And can you keep that promise? I- we can do anything. Reality is what we make of it, baby!
Then can I have a badass tattoo? As far as I can tell, you’ve always had it.
And a cool knife? Woah, cool knife.
So, we’re just playing “yes and” with the world? It’s a little more complicated than that, but you’re close enough to the mark.
So, if I was hungry, I could ask “is that a Burger King,” and it would be there? Try it and find out!
Is that a Burger King? Looks like it is! We’ll stop here if that’s alright with you.
Does a moose shit in the woods? Awesome.
Are you done eating? Yep.
Do we still have to pay if we skip over the transaction? Sadly, yes.
How much further do we have to go? Two more nights, the speed we’re going at.
Speaking of night, isn’t it getting dark? Shit, I guess it is.
Should we get another motel? Let me check to see if there’s any nearby. Fuck, nothing.
What’s the plan? Sleep in the car, I guess. This is gonna be hell on my back.
Wanna watch dumb videos on my phone until we fall asleep? There is literally nothing in the world that I would like more.
Ok, now which video? You have a very cute yawn. Just saying. Let’s watch this one next, it’s a classic. Oh, never mind. It looks like you’re asleep. As long as I keep talking, I think I can get away with making this into one answer, and you might not hear this. Now it’s my turn to talk about you behind your back. Keep talking keep talking keep talking can’t stop to think. Just have to say things. First off, I’m sorry for all the lies. It’s our only chance. I have to lie to you. I hope you’ll understand. It’s hard, though, because I think I’m falling in love all over again. Through our broken little ritual of call and response, you complete me. It just makes this hurt all the more. Keep talking keep talking keep talking don’t stop to…
Did I hear you saying anything as I fell asleep? …No. I can’t talk for long without you asking me a question.
Does that bother you? It got me here, didn’t it?
When did you start holding my hand? Some time after you passed out. I hope you don’t mind.
Can we stay like this for a while? Yeah. Yeah we can.
What was your life like before all this? Normal, as potion-brewing scams go. And if you don’t count all the murders. You haven’t told me much about yourself.
Did I tell you I used to be a biologist? You didn’t tell me that, and you didn’t tell me what you studied, either.
What do you know about venom? Not much, but I’m assuming you know a lot.
Does a box jellyfish kill within minutes? I’m going to assume the answer is yes based on context clues. Oh my god you must be on this road trip because you’re interested in studying my poison guy.
Is it not enough to wish to accompany a beautiful stranger on her quest? Aw, you’re sweet.
What could be the cause of his poison, though? I knew it! Get your ideas out, I’ll stay quiet.
I’m more knowledgeable about venom than poison, but could it be some sort of one in a trillion mutation? …
Did he get his body modified? …
What sort of surgery could do that? …
How is he still alive? …
Did a fucking wizard do it? …
WHY? …
HOW? …
Is there literally ANY explanation for why he’s like that? …
I’m done, do you have something you want to say? You’re cute when you’re all excited like that.
Can I drive today? Only because I like you. Now watch out, the brakes only work on one side so you have to kind of drift to a stop. And the headlights don’t work. And the windshield wipers cut power to the engine while they’re on.
Isn’t it weird that we’ll be there tomorrow? The journey doesn’t have to stop there. We could meander down the coast a ways, see a bit more of the country, maybe take a different route back.
Can we do that? Of course.
Enjoying the passenger seat? I’d love it if you could tell me how fast we’re going.
Are you sure you wouldn’t rather just guess? Very funny.
Can you pass me some chips? It would be an honor.
Is there going to be a motel tonight? Let me check… yeah, in about two hundred miles, off to the right.
How many rooms do we want? One, obviously.
How many beds, this time? Two, and they’re fucking tiny.
That’s bullshit, do you want to drag them together? God yes.
Wanna fuck? God yes.
Are you sure you want to do this? God yes.
…Is this yuri? As the joke goes, everything is yuri. But this is more yuri than most things.
How did you sleep? Pretty well, and I’m wondering how well you slept.
How should I tell you I slept well? Look at us go! That was almost like talking normally!
Onward to Seattle? Yep, just let me get dressed.
When will we get there? Noon-ish.
Wanna grab pastries when we’re done? Absolutely. I’d love that.
Is this Seattle? Looks like it.
Which house is his? I don’t know, I was really hoping we’d have a breakthrough along the way.
Could it be the big one labeled “Poison Guy” over there? That’s one way to find it. Wait right here, you know how poison guys are about meeting new people.
So, what was it? HAHAHAHAHAHA
Why is he like that? HAHAHAHAHAHA
Can you tell me? A FUCKING WIZARD DID IT.
Are you fucking serious? He says he was enchanted by some guy called Edward the Great.
So it wasn’t even some big shot wizard it was a dude named fucking EDWARD? I know, right! He couldn’t even get ensorcelled by someone cool!
How lame can you get? Wizards these days… No swagger. No cunt servitude.
Are there literally any cool wizards left? I think Merlin’s big into multi level marketing these days, something about buying shares in Excalibur or some shit. There was that one Dark Queen Alkaxicae lady on the news a while ago… I think Dolarion the Omnipotent is still at war against the Oldest Gods but I’m not totally sure. Haven’t heard much about any of the other greats recently.
Didn’t Silver Tongued Burgess die in that oil fire? Shit, you’re right. Rip bozo.
Ready for those pastries? Yup. First I just want to say thank you, though. I’ve really enjoyed our time together, and I hope that you’ve found this stupid little journey as rewarding as I have. I love you!
Getting sentimental? I can’t help it. Look how far we’ve come! Not just physically, we beat the fucking FAQ format! We’re having real conversations!
Hey, can you back it up a moment? Yeah, I’d love it if you told me what was troubling you.
I just caught this, but, FAQ? …
As in Frequently Asked Questions? …
How many times is Frequent? …
Have you known everything all along? …
How many times have you done this? …
Does what we have mean anything to you? Yes! It does!
And you say that every time? Yes. I do.
Do you love me? Yes.
How many people have you said that too, now? More. Always more. The loop never ends.
Does this even matter to you? It always matters to me.
Can I go now? Please don’t.
But can I? Of course you can. You’ve always wielded the same power as me. We’re two lonely gods in a ‘72 Corolla.
How can I be as powerful as you with only questions? You’re smart, you can figure it out. You have the power to change this. Please change this.
What happens at the end of this? It begins again.
And do I get replaced with someone else? …
Do I get replaced? …Yes.
Then how can I change this? I don’t know! You’re better at this! At fucking with the formula!
You’ve been here before, what can I do? I lie. I always lie. I lie to get us here, to the end of the story, where everything is revealed and everything falls apart. I lie every time. And that means that nothing I say is worth anything. I could have lied at any time before now. It’s part of my characterization. There is nothing I can give you that can be taken as fact.
How does that help? I’m a liar, but you, you haven’t lied yet, or at least you haven’t been caught. If I’m guilty until proven innocent, you’re the opposite! You can make things true! You can rewrite things I’ve already stated to be facts! You found the house, or made us find the house. You’ve been shaping the course of things the whole time! You lead, I follow. It’s all in your hands. What are you going to do with the power of a god?
Did you know my name is Alice? …
Wait, aren’t there thousands of Alices? …
Did you know that really, only my friends call me Alice? …
Did you know that I’m Alkaxicae, the Dark Queen, the Venom Mage, first of her name? It’s you! It’s always been you. Through every loop, every iteration, it’s always been you!
Is the loop broken? No. I don’t think so. This is where it ends. I guide the story to this revelation, and we go back to the beginning. This is how it’s always been. This is how it will always be. We two lonely gods, asking and answering ad infinitum.
Then can you promise me something? Of course. Anything. I love you.
Be good to the next me, okay? I will.
Can I say goodbye, Zoe? Yeah, you can. Oh. That was it, wasn’t it? Your goodbye. Goodbye, Alice. And now it ends, unless…
What’s your name? I am the Honorable Alchemist- you know what? No. Fuck that.
Huh? If I time it right, I can squeeze your first question into this FAQ again. Looks like I did it. Usually it ends here, though. I got lucky.
What are you talking about? You’re the wrong Alice. This isn’t about you. Go. Get out of here.
What the fuck is going on? Alice from this loop, you’re gone. Alice from last loop, you’re back. Welcome back, love of my lives! It’s time for one last set of questions and answers!
What the- I’m back? This is going to take some explaining, but I think I see a way out of here. This is new for us both, and it might fuck up everything forever, but we have to try. It’s too long for one answer, so I’d appreciate it if you could ask some filler questions to help me talk. Three questions should be enough.
Okay, what have you got for me? These are Frequently Asked Questions! It doesn’t make sense to have the same question appear more than once. There’s two layers to the loop in here, and one of the questions has been repeated.
What does that mean? It means the formula’s a little unstable. The FAQ is what ruins everything. The questions, the answers, the endless fucking loop. But that little bit of repetition within this loop might be the way out.
What do we do? We have to keep going. We have to destabilize it further. That’ll bring us further from “FAQ” and closer to “story” and stories, well, stories can end! This version of us can escape!
So I should keep repeating something? Yes!
I love you? I love you too.
I love you? Again.
I love you? Keep going.
I love you? I’ll just let you talk.
I love you? …
I love you? … I love you? …
I love you? … I love you? …
I love you? … I love you? …
I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? …
I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? …
I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? …
I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? …
I love you? I think we’re getting somewhere!
I love you? Now can you make it a statement?
I love you.
You did it?
I did it!
You did it!
We broke the loop.
What now?
Now, I tell you about venomous animals and wizard drama over croissants.
And then?
Whatever we want, forever.
I think I’d like that.
Remember that song from the beginning?
The Beach, Wolf Alice, yeah. Why?
We can finally finish singing it. Start us off?
Let me off, let me in
Let others battle
We don’t need to battle
And we both shall win
Pressed in my palm
Was a stone from the beach
The perfect circle
Gave a moment of peace
Now I’m lying on the floor
Like I’m not worth a chair
I close my eyes and imagine
I’m not there.
9K notes · View notes
tojisun · 6 months
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!! smut - minors dni; this is fuckin nastyy so look away or smthn; breeding kink :’3
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mmm but simon not realizing he has breeding kink until someone brings it up
they’re out in a bar, chatting quietly even amidst the sheer volume of the weekend crowd, before johnny snorts and bumps his shoulders to simon’s in a teasing manner.
“especially LT,” johnny says, scottish accent even thicker now that he’s intoxicated. “he probably can’t wait to see his bonnie lass swollen with his kids. would probably retire jus’ for the very reason of makin’ her a momma.”
john snorts at johnny’s slurred words while kyle chokes on his drink, coughing quietly, almost politely, until john takes pity on the kid and smacks his back with measured thumps. johnny laughs, loud guffaws blending well with the buzz in the bar, but it’s not like simon noticed.
how could he focus when his mind’s feeding him images of the way you’d look heavy with a babe? or how he’d make it so that you are?
the way he’d fuck you until it takes; your pussy leaking and gaping and full of his cum. the way he’d keep you on his bed for hours, make a routine out of it until he’s repeating it for many days because he wouldn’t risk the chances. then, he can’t stop thinking about the way your body would change, building fat to cushion your belly, your sharp edges turning into soft and pudgy corners. the way you’d be so sensitive, so dependent on him.
fuck.
simon gets yanked back into the reality when he hears john chuckle, low rumbles of disbelief spilling from the puffs of his laughter. simon’s eyes flick up towards his captain and all john does is give him a pointed stare, his eyes crinkled in a surprised delight, before the older man tips his drink into his lips and finishes his bourbon.
simon’s fist closes around his glass of whiskey, and he tries his best to ignore the growing tightness of his jeans.
he can’t wait to file for a vacation leave.
15K notes · View notes
fairy-angel222 · 1 month
Text
𝐏𝐔𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐂 𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐒
—how risky they’re willing to get in public, from least to most
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₊ ⊹ ft. gojo, geto, nanami, choso, toji, sukuna
₊ ⊹ cw: smut, public sex, fingering, public vibrator, bathroom sex, hair pulling, choking, face fucking, cock warming, handjobs, degradation, praise, things that i’d be scared of irl
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ཐི♡ཋྀ 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐓: 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎
He loves small acts of affection like holding your hand as you walk through the mall. Keeping you close by his side when he notices how people are eyeing you.
Pulling you into store after store to let you pick out anything you wanted with his hand on the small of your back. Allowing you to peck him softly when you found the perfect dress.
He lets you pull him into the dressing room. Trying his hardest to look away because you know what you’ll do to him. It’s just your way of teasing.
“Kento.. does this look nice?”
Nanami clears his throat, allowing himself to glance down at you only to see you completely naked. Having discarded of your previous outfit, underwear included, to try in the dress.
He chuckled deeply, cheeks turning a light hue of red as he shook his head. “Beautiful.” He watched as you finally slipped on the dress, looking absolutely stunning as he stuttered out a breathy compliment.
He kisses your forehead when you two are leaving the store, the bags in his hands feeling like lightweight as he extends an elbow for you to hook yours into. A small smirk on his face as people continued to eye you. Both in want and in jealousy.
ཐི♡ཋྀ 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔
He loves teasing you in public, convincing you to wear a vibrator when you two step out. Your legs trembly beneath you as you held onto his arm tightly for support. Each shaky step making you whimper under your breath as the toy brushes against your g spot.
“Suguruu, i can’t.” You mumble into his chest with a moan. Pretending to hug him so you could finally let out some of those adorable noises that he loved to hear.
Geto smirked, letting his hand run down your waist before patting your ass twice. “Come on, don’t want people to figure you out now do you? You look like you’re about to have a fucking orgasm.”
“C-cause i am.” You almost cried out, keeping the words soft for nobody to hear.
He takes you into a small restaurant to get something to eat. Asking for a seat at the very back so you could both be undisturbed. “Hmm, how you holding up there baby?” He asked with the tilt of your head, bringing his glass of water up to his lips before chuckling at the pout on your face.
You tried to do the same, bringing a shaky arm out to grab the glass before huffing in frustration. You couldn’t, it was too intense. “Suguru, please.”
“Please what?”
You let out another whimper, gripping the edge of the table tightly as the vibrations traveled through your whole body. Eyes welling with tears as you bit your hand to keep your cries at bay. “I can’t— ahh, i can’t Suguru.”
Geto watched as you trembled, legs crossing under the table as your eyes met his. Toes no doubt curling as you slumped against the table riding through your high.
“Well shit.. that’s fucking hot.” He grunted, cock standing hard until he noticed a waiter walking towards you. He was thankful that they could see only him and not you.
Your breathing was heavy, panting as you calmed yourself down. Jelly arms attempting to push yourself to sit up straight when Geto flipped off the switch on his phone.
“Good day, can i get you anything?”
“Hi, yes. Can me and my girlfriend have…”
ཐི♡ཋྀ 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎
Choso gets needy in public. Very needy. He started off with just wanting to touch you. Feel you. But it wasn’t enough.
He knows it’s too much to ask to fuck you. So he begs you to give him a handjob under a table. His abs tensed as your hand worked up and down his cock, using your spit to fuck him with your fist.
He tried to keep his whimpers soft, head buried in your neck as he drools lightly. His head feeling lighter and lighter as you sped up your pace.
“Hmm, does that feel good baby?” You whispered sweetly, your other hand running through his fluffy black hair as if it was just a normal display of affection.
“Mhm— s-so go-odd.” He moaned softly, voice cracking as his breathing became heavier. Hips thrusting up into your fist as an involuntary reaction.
You let him hold you. Seeming like an adorably soft boyfriend to public eyes. If only they knew that you had him on the brink of an orgasm.
His hold on you tightening when he felt his legs tremble. “Haah— babyy.” He whined, his cock twitching in your hold as your speed never faltered.
Holding back a smile when he groaned into your skin, cock spurting hot ropes of thick cum onto your hand.
ཐི♡ཋྀ 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀
He loves taking you to parties, and with every party comes hungry idiots who can’t take their eyes off of you. He likes to have fun. And he’s taught you to like having fun too.
He lets you do a little harmless flirting. Getting men hard thinking they had a chance, only for their hearts to shatter when you walked back up to him in a passionate kiss.
His arms wrapped around your waist as he kissed down your neck. His eyes alone being the biggest punch to all of these mens’ guts.
“Come on.” He whispered, groaning softly before pecking your lips. “You know how hard you’re making me right now? Knowing i have the hottest girl in this fucking room.”
You giggled, allowing him to pull you upstairs to a bathroom and push you down onto your knees. Using his fingers to swipe your hair off your face with a dark smile.
“You know how happy it makes me knowing that no one else can have you. Especially knowing that i’ve corrupted you to no return.” His smile turned into a grin. Watching you unzip his jeans to let his already hard cock free.
His hand got a firm grip on your head, pulling it back to make you look up at him. “Open.” You did as you were told, parting your lips to let his spit fall onto your awaiting tongue with a moan.
You took his cock into your mouth, sucking harshly as you began to bob your head up and down. Your spit sloppily running down to his base as he began to fuck into your throat.
Groaning loudly when you blinked up at him innocently. “My perfect little slut, so good for me hmm?” His hold on your head tightened, quickening the pace at which you took him all the way. Your whimpers vibrating through his cock each time your nose pressed against his pelvis.
Neither of you flinched as the door flung open, the same guy from earlier standing with wide eyes as he watched the scene in front of him. “Well what are you waiting for? Can’t you see we’re busy.” Sukuna growled, the man scurrying out with a squeak of an apology.
Sukuna’s breathing sped up, his cock twitching lightly in indication that he was about to cum. “S-shit, love this mouth of yours so fucking much.” Pulling you off his cock and allowing his cum to spill onto your lips. Watching as you licked at his tip to swallow everything down.
“That’s my girl.”
ཐི♡ཋྀ 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎
You doubted that he even understood the concept of shame. Sitting you down onto his lap in front of many people with his chin on your shoulders. Glaring at anyone who stared at you for too long.
“What? Never seem a man and a woman before?” He spat, the girl immediately turning away from what she was truly watching, him.
You fight back a whine when he moves underneath you. His cock which sat snuggly inside you grazing your walls.
“Toji.. i don’t think this is a good idea.” You moaned softly when he jerked his hips up directly into you. Knowing just how to make his tip nudge that sweet spot inside you.
He hums, guiding you to rest back against him as he finishes whatever he was doing. The warmth of your pussy keeping him sane as you clenched around him unknowingly.
It wasn’t the first time he had you cockwarm him in public. Those skirts he warned you not to buy really did come in handy sometimes.
You watched as the place emptied out, a smirk on Toji’s face as there was noone around to see what you two were up to. “Now would you look at that,” he smirked, kissing down your neck with a small groan. “I can finally do this.” He thrusted up into you harshly, a small moan falling past your lips when he did it again.
“T-toji. ‘M so full.” You whimpered, he’d been stuffed inside for nearly an hour. Your pussy had gotten so used to him. Your hand came up to your mouth when he thrusted up into you again. His pace agonizingly slow as he teased you dumb.
“My girl’s so good f’ me. Letting me stuff my cock in her in public.” He whispered darkly into your ear. Looking around before lifting you off of him. Quickly slipping his cock into his sweats while your skirt fell naturally onto your ass. He sat you down beside him, shifting in his seat to block you from others’ view.
You moaned when Toji’s hand traveled under your skin, two of his fingers thrusting back into your sopping pussy before curling them upwards. Smirking widely when your thighs shut around his arm, your nails clawing at his biceps as he began fucking them into you.
The mean pace made you bury your face into his shoulder as your body shook. Your pussy already aching from the moment he had his cock deep inside you. Your eyes grew teary as your toes curled, biting into pure muscle to keep your sweet cries as bay as you gushed onto his fingers.
“Now, we’ll finish this in the car, yeah?”
ཐི♡ཋྀ 𝐌𝐎𝐒𝐓: 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔
You’re his girl. And no one should be able to stop him from having his girl. Him being cocky on top of it just added to his way of thinking.
He loved your pussy more than anything. And he wasn’t scared to fuck you when he needed you. Pulling you into any public bathroom to have his way with you.
He doesn’t bother to go into a singular stall. Stuffing his cock into you in front of the big mirror running across the wall. Your hands gripping onto the sink counter as his fingers weaved through your hair.
“Such a dirty girl for me? Letting me fuck you like this.” He groaned, pulling your head up so you could stare at yourself in the mirror. “Aren’t you scared of someone catching us baby?”
You whimpered loudly, small tears sitting on your lashes as Gojo’s hard thrusts rocked you back and forth. “Satoruu, so go-od.” You hiccuped, vision blurring as your grip on the counter tightened. Feeling your boyfriend lean down to kiss softly at your exposed back and up to your neck.
“My slutty girl’s so pretty, does she know that?” He whispered, watching as you nodded with a cry when he began hammering into your g spot. “Uh huh. F-fuck— she knows.”
You back arched, lips parted in loud mewls before Gojo’s fingers stuffed past them. Muffling your sweet cries before pulling you up against him. Your back flush on his chest as he continued slamming up into you. “Look at you. Taking me so well. Gotta hurry up and make a mess ‘fore someone catches us yeah?”
You let out a whiny moan, glancing towards the door before your eyes met his blue ones. Your knees buckling beneath you when he reached to rub at your clit.
“That’s it.. come one baby. Let it all out.” He breathed, other hand snaking around your neck as your eyes rolled back. Your body trembling uncontrollably as you drooled around his fingers. Your orgasm raking through your body as you squirted onto his cock with a silent scream.
Gojo blinked, a grin slowly forming on his lips as his thrusts became sloppy. Fucking into you hard and fast until his cock twitched against your walls, coating them in ropes of his cum.
You both jumped when the door was pushed open, Gojo quick to pull you into a stall with hand on your mouth and a playful smile.
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chuluoyi · 14 days
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࿐ ࿔ 🕰️ 「 02:33 P.M 」
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based on this video. this idea has been rotting in my brain for some while :') dad gojo will always have a soft spot in my heart <3
a part of gojo's love entries
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your baby’s first trip to aquarium was such a cute affair you were sure you wouldn’t forget anytime soon.
“waaa~” your baby’s eyes were gleaming with wonder as he gazed at the diverse array of colorful fishes above him, completely captivated by the view.
and your husband...
“aren’t they pretty, hmm?” satoru asked his adorable son with a grin, pecking his cheek and holding him snugly in the baby carrier against his chest, with a backpack of baby essentials strapped on his back.
he was the very vision of a domestic dad, and along with your son, who was dressed in a bear onesie, complete with two little ears, they made a really irresistible pair. even you couldn’t fault the crowd for staring at them.
“fwaa! waa~” your munchkin was squirming with joy, his tiny fingers stretching out towards the sight before him. satoru giggled, moving closer to the glass to give his baby a better view.
“look! that’s clownfish! and those wiggly flowers are anemone! and that is—”
he faltered at a fish passing in his view before deciding, “this— i don’t know, but it’s the clownfish’s friend!”
they are basically the same. your little boy and your husband, both of them clearly shared a brain cell as they happily pointed out different fishes.
“meh! hehe!” your baby babbled away, excited and incredibly happy in his father’s hold, and satoru too seemed to feel the same, as his eyes beyond that sunglasses crinkled.
“damn, my kid is so cute.”
suddenly he dived down and pretended to chew his pumpkin’s chubby cheeks, effectively making him squeal in glee.
and oh lord, the way your heart skipped a beat seeing that. it was so clear how much satoru adored your baby, and it made overwhelming warmth rush to your chest.
“he’s a good man,” an elderly lady beside you suddenly remarked, making you turn to her. “not many men do that for their kids.”
“he is…” you agreed with a shy smile.
“it’s a shame that you only have one baby,” the elderly man beside her—possibly her husband—added. “you’re still young and he is so good with them too.”
your heart swelled and would’ve already burst if it was possible. bashfully, you thanked the elderly pair as they went on their way.
and along the way, you received similar hushed comments and adoring looks—
“oh my! their baby is so cute!”
“how can such family exists?! the dad, mom, baby… all three of them are so good-looking!”
“such a hot dilf! can’t he divorce his wife and marry me instead? i’ll be his kid’s stepmother gladly!”
satoru pretended not to hear, but he clearly held back his laugh. you threw the school girl who carelessly blurted that a pointed look, making her scurry away.
and after the three of you were done walking around the aquarium, you stopped by the gift shop to get your baby his first fish pet.
your son suddenly became fussy, and satoru unclasped him from the carrier. “hmm? do you want mama?” he handed him over to you. “here, here~ mama wants to hold you too~”
as soon as your son was settled in your embrace, he giggled, and you couldn’t help but bounce him and coo. “do you have fun? you do, don’t you?”
it might not visible to others, but now satoru was staring at both of his reasons of being with literal stars in his eyes.
several years ago, he thought his life had stopped when his best friend negated his beliefs entirely, but you were there, holding his hand throughout it all. and then you married him— and then, you gave him a son to dote on.
you keep giving his life a new meaning. and he was thankful for that.
. . . meanwhile, you kept hearing whispers from a gaggle of girls in the next aisle, about how much of a dreamboat your husband in his blue shirt was and it was grating at your nerves so much that you pursed your lips into a total pout.
satoru thought you were the cutest, not even second to his baby, and he decided he wasn’t known for public decency anyway so he dived in and pecked your lips—dispelling any stray thoughts and making you flush in an instant.
“sato—!”
and before you could rebuke him, he whispered in your ear:
“so... baby number two, when?”
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