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#I don't think regular paper will stand up as well
revenantghost · 2 months
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Oh my god oh my god oh my god
There's a Vash and Wolfwood dog papercraft
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octuscle · 2 months
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Hey there! I'm having a debate with my roommate and wondering if you can help settle it. He says that if you gave someone the body of a jock, without any mental changes, they'll eventually start acting like a jock anyway. I don't think that's true. Just because you have muscles and look like a jock doesn't mean you'll start acting like one, right? We were thinking of trying to set up an experiment for our honor's thesis and wanted your input, thanks!
Are you really sure you want to go through with it? We are happy to do it. I'll create a preset for you that only changes your body. But really. 1.90 m tall. 140 kg of pure muscle mass. But everything else stays the same. To be honest, you don't look like you're ready for it. But it's up to you. I can only recommend that you are in a safe and, above all, unobserved place when you activate the preset.
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You take a deep breath. You stand naked in the middle of your room. Next to you, you have laid out a pair of tracksuit bottoms, a tank top, a jockstrap, a pair of socks and a pair of sneakers. You can only hope that the clothes will fit your new self. 3. 2. 1. enter!
Wow! Holy shit! Now that was quick and without a transition. You look down at the floor from a slightly greater height. And when you look down, all you see are pecs. Fucking huge pecs. You need a mirror. Phew! Very slowly! The new body works a little differently than the old one… Your center of gravity is much higher up. You stand in front of the mirror. This no longer has anything to do with you. It's more Greek demigod than human. Your cock is getting hard. A huge cock that fits this huge body. You never wank. Especially not in the middle of your room. But now you have to. Not for long. And a huge load lands on the mirror and the floor. Yes, I've changed a few details apart from the height and muscle mass. You've already noticed one thing. You'll notice the others too.
You're convinced that the new body won't change anything. So you act as you always have. First of all, you clean up the mess. You are manically clean and tidy. Then you put on your clothes. The shoes are a bit tight, but otherwise everything fits pretty well. So off you go to the library. After all, your honors thesis isn't going to write itself.
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Iris and Rita at the information desk didn't recognize you when you greeted them. They looked at you as if you were an alien when you wished them a good morning. You sat down at your regular place in the library. You like routines. You started working on your thesis outline when Vincent came over. Vincent always sits three tables behind you. Nice guy, similarly obsessive as you. He clears his throat and says that you can't sit here, the seat is taken. Actually, you should have said something along the lines of "Vincent, don't you recognize me, it's me!". But somehow you can't help it. You have to try it out. You cross your muscular arms behind your head, look deep into his eyes and just ask who cares. Vincent retreats like a beaten dog. Three minutes later, you have a WhatsApp message: "There's some stupid musclehead sitting in your seat!" You reply that it's okay, you're not on campus for a few days for empirical studies anyway.
But you're not as productive as usual. Your new body is keeping you busier than you thought. It feels so good to tense your muscles. Your hard cock is constantly leaking precum and is always half stiff. Shit, after an hour you have to jerk off. Fuck, you make quite a mess in the toilet. You try to clean everything up with toilet paper. When you come out of the stall, a student is standing at the urinal, looking at you and wanking. Get out of here quickly, you think to yourself.
The incident is definitely worth recording. After all, you've never experienced this before. But it was hot. As you type out your thoughts, your stomach begins to growl. So loud that Vicent hisses "Pssst". It's actually too early for lunch. But the canteen is about to open. So you're one of the first in the queue. You can hardly wait. And you heap heaps of food onto your tray. You're so hungry.
The weather is good, you sit down at a table in the sun and, ignoring all the table manners, you wolf down your food. Suddenly you hear a voice shouting "Hey, guys, there are empty seats here with the big boy!" You look up. A couple of idiots from the football team are standing at your table. "Dude, okay if we join you?" asks one of the guys, who seems to be some kind of leader. "Sure thing," you say with your mouth full, spitting a bit of your chicken across the table. "Cool," he replies, giving you a fist bump, which you return somewhat hesitantly and also a little awkwardly. And before you know it, you're sitting in a cloud of sweat, testosterone and stupid comments.
You start talking to the boys more for scientific reasons. They ask if you're Fresman because they've never seen you before. You say that you're actually studying somewhere else, but you're here to work on your Honor's thesis. The leader spits his Coke across the table. "Fuck, dude! You already have a degree? In what? Lifting iron?" Everyone laughs. Very loudly. You too. It's actually really funny with the boys…
The boys go to the gym after lunch. I wonder if you're coming too. You don't even think about it. You just say that you haven't got anything to change into. Everyone laughs and asks if anyone is interested. So you go along. It's a field study, you think to yourself. You're observing everything very closely. You don't want to attract negative attention. The processes seem very simple. You copy what you see the boys doing. You even enjoy it. You work up a sweat. You forget the time. The others are gone at some point. You're still here. You look in the mirror. Your long, sweaty hair falls across your forehead. Your friends all have much shorter hair. It's also more practical when working out. You look at your watch. Shit!!!!! You have to get your stuff from the library before it closes. Trevor, sitting at the information desk, doesn't recognize you either. It's already very empty when you pack up your things. Vincent is still there, mumbling something about how antisocial it is to occupy a space you're not using. You don't know why you're doing this now. But you go to him very slowly. You press his face into your armpit. And say that you had more important things to do. Shit, Vincent is seriously licking the sweat out of your armpit hair now? Pathetic little fucker, your new friends would say now. You're far too surprised. By you. By him. Slightly disturbed, you go home. You throw yourself on your bed and think about your first day as a jock. You fall asleep.
You are actually a person who is always well prepared. But you are amazed at how little you have prepared for this experiment. You have a combination to wear. It's still sweaty after yesterday's workout. But you don't have anything else. So this morning you're not going to the library, but to the paint shop. Shopping. A pair of sweatshorts, a few tank tops, socks and jockstraps, sneakers. A bit of compression gear for training. You pass a barbershop. There are a couple of guys inside who are obviously no strangers to the gym either. Fuck it, you think. Down with the long hair!
You haven't been in the library this late in a long time. Vincent has blocked your seat for you. With a few protein bars. Cute! He winks at you when you come in. You raise your arm and smell your armpit. Shit, you haven't showered! Fuck… Well, maybe the little prick will like that even more…
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By lunchtime with the boys, you at least want to have logged yesterday and this morning. And you're looking for some literature on the connection between mind and body. Most of it is ancient. Nothing has been published on the subject for a long time. And if there is, it's more about the effect of the state of mind on the body. Less often on the effect of the body on the state of mind. That's obvious, because normally a genius like you doesn't acquire a body overnight…
The lunch break with the boys was cool. The guys are just very chilled, you like that. No highbrow topics. Just sport, fucking and partying. Unfortunately, a lot of football too. You have no idea about that. After lunch, the boys want to throw some balls on the lawn. You have to go to a colloquium later. And Luke said that you should finally replace those nerdy glasses with contact lenses. The visit to the optician was a good excuse not to embarrass yourself at football.
A whole day without going to the gym sucks! That's why you got up early today. You didn't do your thesis assignments yesterday, nor did you get your muscles burning. That has to change. Shit, you're still struggling with your contact lenses. But it looks a thousand times better. You're screaming alpha with every trained muscle fiber. And that's great! You almost feel at home in the gym. And nobody questions your position. In the library, Vincent provides you with everything you need. He fetches books for you and takes them away again. He has also already offered to help you with your work. What a loser! You don't need to order anything in the canteen after just two days. Your extra large portion of extra protein-rich food is prepared especially for you. Twice. You come once when the canteen opens. And once just before it closes. Your body is a machine. And this machine needs fuel. Lots of fuel.
You sit in the library and document the developments of the last few days. It really is only a few days. Reading through the last few lines almost makes you nauseous. Has your body replaced your mind so quickly? You need to get a grip on yourself. You did your Master's with distinction. You're working on your honor's thesis. You have a chance of getting a professorship at your old college. And you suddenly prefer to spend more time in the gym or with the airheads on the football team? You make a plan. Two hours of gym in the morning, two hours break with the bros at lunchtime, two hours of gym in the evening. And in between, focus on your thesis and your studies. It shouldn't be that difficult. You're an intelligent and disciplined man. So let's get going!
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You have made every effort. And you actually come to the conclusion in your thesis that the body of a jock does not automatically lead to the mind of a stupid, arrogant and superficial jock. You have fun with both. Training in the gym and hanging out with the bros. And working scientifically and researching the human psyche. But in a lecture you realize that it's not you who changes, it's your environment that changes you. Since you got this body three weeks ago, no one has spoken to you about your studies. Vincent, who you thought was intellectual through and through, just wants you to let him lick your armpits in the evening. Your bros didn't even ask you what you were studying. And then the day comes when you attend your doctoral supervisor's lecture. Since your transformation, you've only spoken or written on the phone. You sit in the front row. You appreciate your doctoral supervisor for his liberal political views, his rhetorical skills and his incredible knowledge. At the end of his lecture, he looks at you. And asks if the young man, who unfortunately was unable to dress appropriately, understood a word of what he had just said. He assumes you were mistaken in the lecture hall. But if you invest your energy in your biceps and not your brain, that's to be expected.
First you think about whether you are saying anything particularly intelligent. To express your indignation at his insolence. To justify yourself. But then you think about what has been really fun in the last few weeks. And who you really had fun with. And you answer "Nah, professor dude! Dat wuz alot of words n stff u sed. I dnt thnk I need all dat for my degree as a personal trainer. wdut, bro?" You make your pecs dance. The lecture hall laughs. You stand up. Fuck the honor's thesis!
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You started studying sports economics again. You also work as a trainer in a fitness studio. And you have a pretty successful YouTube fitness channel. You recently received a call from your old doctoral supervisor. He read through the draft of your honor's thesis again. It was all very promising. Why did you drop out? You say that you obviously have to choose between brains and brawn at some point. And you're grateful to him for helping you decide. And with that you hang up.
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i made a little hand-sewn beast based on everydayspamton's drawing & took it with me on a family roadtrip
if you'd like to make your own, i've included the [[FREE]] pattern & some rough steps below the cut, as well as an Educational Video
EDUCATIONAL VIDEO. THIS IS NATURAL SPAMFISH BEHAVIOR & IT IS NOT SCARED OR IN PAIN.
BEAST CRAFTING INSTRUCTIONS:
disclaimer: i'm an amateur & i've never tried making a pattern before, nor have i ever tried writing directions
materials you'll need:
sewing needle & pins
black thread & white thread
fabric in these colors - black, white, red, yellow, & pink
stuffing
(optional) a squeaker
notes:
for the thread, i suggest something thicker, like whats used for embroidery - i used two different thicknesses on mine, & i think the thicker one; (the black thread); stands out a lot nicer
for the fabric, i used craft felt. its nice because its cheap & malleable, but if you want something that can actually be washed & played with without disintegrating on you, don't use felt. different fabrics will have different results, though, & may not give you a clean-looking edge & lines
you can also just go nuts & use whatever colors of thread/fabric you want, make pattern alterations, whatever
if you make one, feel free to @ me, send an ask or DM me with it, i'd love to see!
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^^^ here's the pattern!
now the actual steps?:
1.) download & print out the pattern - it should(?) fit normally across a regular sheet of printer paper. i don't have exact measurements, i eyeballed this whole thing & then lost the original pattern - (there's only a copy that i scanned & edited left on my computer. woops.)
2.) cut the pieces out. pin the patterns to the fabric color the instructions call for, & cut out the number you need for each
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^^^ here's what you should end up with!
now the sewing! for this whole thing i used doubled-up thread & a 'running stitch', then went over it a secondary time with another running stitch to fill in the gaps. you could also try using a 'back stitch' (which i don't know how to do), but that might be tougher. the goal here is to give it an Outlined look, like a drawing
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3.) with white thread, sew the pink & yellow eyes onto the glasses - pink is Left, yellow is Right. reference the image above if you're not sure!
4.) sew all the fins pieces together - on the black fin, use white thread; & on the white fins, use black thread. reference the pattern for the detailing. i made my own front fins 'wrong', but you don't really have worry too much about being exact
5.) overlap the Head pieces onto the Body pieces - making sure you have a Left and Right side! pin the heads to the bodies, & compare their lengths by holding them together to make sure you've got it right. sew the heads to the bodies using black thread. detail the head with black thread, & detail the body with white thread
6.) now that you've got the two sides of the body completed, you can hold them together to try to get even placement for the red cheeks. pin each cheek to each side, then sew them on with white thread
7.) using black thread, sew the pink glasses onto the Left side of the body, and the yellow glasses onto the Right side. they'll be slightly overlapping the cheeks
8.) with white thread, sew the front fins on to each side. NOTE: i put mine on wrong, & didn't realize until i was finished. for the 'right' placement on these (closer to the original drawing), reference the pattern, & not the images
you now have all your parts ready for assembly! for me, this is the hardest part. you'll need a bunch of pins - use the guidelines on the pattern and/or reference the below image to get the right placements
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9.) pin in the back fin & the nose. leave some space on the bottom for stuffing when you start, & using black thread, sew together the nose & the fin unto the body - the fin should be sandwiched Between the two body halves
10.) pin in the tail fin. continue sewing down the back with the black thread, & sew the tail fin in - once again, it should be Between the two body halves
11.) pin in the back fin between the halves. continue with the black thread, sew along the tail & sew the back fin in - Stopping once its secured. you should have some good space still open on the belly
12.) time for stuffing. using something thin, but not sharp - like a chopstick or the back of a crochet hook - & push stuffing into the nose & tail portions. stuff the head about halfway. now, if you have a squeaker, put it into the widest part of the head, & stuff a little around it
13.) still using the black thread, sew the belly up a little more so its easier to keep the stuffing in, & then fill up the rest of the body. once fully stuffed, sew the remaining hole together
14.) congrats! you now have a spamfish. if you opted for a squeaker, squeak it thoroughly
don't worry if it's not exact, some individual variation is fun & makes your creature unique! mine has upside-down front fins with upside-down detail lines
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here's the thing with some friends i had made a little bit before him. have fun with your beast!
i am not liable for any damage it causes to you or your property
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poisonlove · 5 months
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It's a Date? | w.a
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Y/n invites Wednesday Addams to an unusual forest outing, pretending there's a mystery. In the cemetery, amid gravestones and shadows, they share a special moment, discovering an unexpected connection.
I find myself in front of Enid and Wednesday's room. My throat is tight, and my heart beats so loudly it echoes in my ears. Inviting Wednesday on a date makes me strangely nervous, a whirlwind of emotions translating into an exhilarating anxiety, a feeling of fear and anticipation blending together.
The plan was simple... invent an excuse to capture Wednesday's attention and venture into the woods, where the date would take place.
I take a deep breath and open the door, immediately seeing my best friend in bed, while Things does her nails. I slowly move my eyes to the other side of the room, where Wednesday Addams is immersed in writing her novel with the typewriter.
Wednesday Addams, sitting in front of the typewriter, exudes an air of cold calmness. Her long black hair is neatly tied into two braids, falling gracefully over her shoulders. Her facial profile is regular, with a fine nose that rises with grace. Thin lips are closed in a determined expression as her fingers move precisely on the keyboard. The atmosphere is charged with creativity and mystery, with Wednesday seemingly completely absorbed in her narrative world.
Enid genuinely smiles when I enter. "Hey, Y/N, how are you?" she asks with her warm smile.
"Fine, Enid," I reply, trying to hide my nervousness. "Um, how's your boyfriend doing?"
Enid laughs slightly. "Well, you can imagine, always busy with work. But let's say everything is fine. But now, tell me, what brings you here?"
I shift my attention to Wednesday, trying to keep a seemingly casual tone. Enid smiles mischievously, aware of the reason for my visit.
Enid glances out of the corner of her eye at Wednesday and smiles broadly.
The blonde clears her throat. "You know, the other day something strange happened in the woods..." Enid exclaims casually.
Wednesday straightens up and stops typing on the typewriter. "What happened?" I ask with genuine confusion.
"Don't you remember? You told me the other day! Someone died, but the body disappeared into thin air. The only thing they found was a shoe. Now it's in the sheriff's hands in case there are any developments," Enid says, tilting her head to the side and looking at me with confusion.
I open my mouth and understand her look. "Oh yes, yes... I needed someone to come with me to see," I mutter distractedly.
In the most subtle way possible, Wednesday puts the papers aside on the desk and stands up from the chair. After the solved mystery of the Nevermore monster, Wednesday had no more stimuli to satisfy her investigative side. This mystery seemed perfect.
Wednesday's movement catches the attention of the two girls. "I'm coming with you," Wednesday mutters softly.
I widen my eyes, and Enid immediately corrects Wednesday, "No, no, I can't come," the blonde murmurs quickly.
Wednesday thinks Enid is scared and observes her friend.
With determined steps, Wednesday approaches me, and at that moment, the considerable height difference between us becomes evident. Her intense eyes scrutinize me with curiosity, and as the distance between us shortens, we both sense the peculiar dynamic developing between us. Her presence, albeit cold and distant, conveys a subtle tension that cannot escape careful observation.
"Shall we?" I murmur with a thread of voice.
Without saying a word, Wednesday turns quickly, grabbing her bag from the chair. She tightens her lips and tries to slow down her heartbeat by breathing slowly.
"Get ready for an... interesting experience," Wednesday murmurs, adding a touch of mystery to her monotone voice.
The strange combination of enthusiasm and detachment in her words is fascinating as we head towards the exit of the room.
(...)
I walk nervously through the woods, the sound of my steps blending with the rustle of twigs and leaves crushed under my feet. I'm lost in my thoughts, focused on the daunting task of keeping the conversation with Wednesday. I feel her behind me, silently observing me with curiosity as we venture deeper into the forest. Her presence, almost ethereal among the trees, adds a mysterious dimension to the surrounding atmosphere. The forest seems to respond to our passage, a succession of sounds and shadows fueling nervousness and anticipation.
We walk through the woods, "How much longer, Y/N?" Wednesday breaks the silence. Knowing the forest quite well, Wednesday seems intrigued by the fact that we've taken an unfamiliar path. I move a branch obstructing our way and stop, looking at her with curiosity.
"Here we are," I whisper softly, diverting my gaze to the ground beneath my feet.
Wednesday Addams gives me a quick glance before discovering a cemetery around us. "Interesting," she comments with her monotone voice, but her eyes reveal a hint of happiness.
Wednesday notices a blanket near a tombstone and raises an eyebrow, looking at me with a mix of curiosity and indifference. "What's interesting here?" she asks, her voice as sharp as a knife. As I approach, I notice the blanket, and my gaze meets Wednesday's. "It seemed like a good place to stop," I reply, trying to maintain composure that seems to elude me when her eyes scrutinize the cemetery carefully.
Wednesday nods slightly, perhaps approving the choice. "So, what have we planned?" she asks, her interest hiding behind the veil of her tranquility.
I feel warmth rising to my cheeks as I respond, trying to maintain composure. "I thought it might be an opportunity to... spend time together." My voice betrays a slight insecurity, but Wednesday seems to show no emotion.
After the question, Wednesday realizes the basket of food on the blanket, understanding that everything was planned. There was no mystery in the woods, at least not one related to a dead person.
"Is it a date?" she asks with curiosity, looking at me seriously. I nod, feeling my cheeks blush as I sit on the blanket. "I thought it might be a good way to get your attention," I confess, smiling with embarrassment.
Wednesday tilts her head to the side and approaches me more closely. The little Addams kneels, reaching my eye level. With an embarrassed smile, I take a black rose and a Dahlia from the basket. Wednesday watches with curiosity as I do so, and later, she gives me a small smile, seeing the flowers in my hands. Her smile widens, and I unconsciously smile, realizing it's the first time Wednesday has smiled in that way.
In an unexpected move, Wednesday leans in and delicately places her lips on mine. I'm surprised by the speed of the gesture and, above all, by the sensation of her lips, which are lethally cold. A shiver runs down my spine, while the woods around us seem to whisper secrets. It's a moment of quiet mystery among the graves, where the world seems to stop as Wednesday and I share that delicate kiss in the silent cemetery.
Timidly, I melt during the kiss, placing a hand on Addams' side. Her lips are surprisingly cold, but in that moment, the cold seems only to intensify the aura of mystery surrounding us. When we finally break the kiss, I notice Wednesday's lips pulling into a small smile. "There was no need to do all this to get my attention... my eyes are always fixed on you, Y/N/N," she says with a seriousness that makes me blush.
I look around uncomfortably, even though I know we're alone. "I don't like cemeteries," I mutter weakly, reading the name engraved on the tombstone. Two fingers gently touch under my chin, forcing me to meet Wednesday's black eyes. "I know... you mentioned it some time ago," she says with a cold voice.
I raise an eyebrow, and Wednesday fiddles with the flower between her fingers. "Not answering you doesn't mean I don't pay attention when you speak," Wednesday murmurs softly, and I can't help but smile at her unexpected sincerity.
It wasn't an official date, but as Wednesday walked away, her heart was racing. A strange sensation, like spiders weaving a web, made its way into Wednesday's stomach, creating a pleasant restlessness.
I look at Wednesday with surprised eyes. "Was all this not necessary?" I ask incredulously.
Wednesday, with her intense gaze on me, responds calmly: "Maybe not, but it was a welcome surprise."
We sit on the blanket in the silent cemetery, the twilight light dancing among the tombstones. It's a timeless moment, where the mystery of the dark woods merges with the mystery of our connection. Her eyes gaze into mine, and I can feel her heart beating fast. A slight smile appears on her lips, almost like a shared secret.
"It's not official," I whisper, trying to understand the meaning of that moment.
Wednesday nods slightly, her hand getting closer to mine. "It doesn't need to be official to be real," she says timidly while looking at the sky slowly tinting orange.
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The Man 1
Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Character: mob!Lloyd Hansen
Summary: a demanding customer complicates more than your work life.
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.
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You stand behind the counter, ready to serve the next customer that comes through the door. If you thought the rush was bad, the lulls are worse. The time drags by as the clock seems to taunt you. You sigh again as you hear Bre clattering around in the back room. You’d rather be back there folding up empty boxes and scouring trays.
You yawn and waver on your feet. The small local cafe doesn’t have the consistent traffic of the franchised kiosk just down the block but there are still hectic rushes. The mornings just after nine, then at noon when the office workers run out for a refresh espresso or a lunchtime sweet, but the afternoons usually deliver no more than the errant college student on their laptop or a few friends in between visits to boutiques.
The door opens and you glance over at the man who walks through the door. He strikes you as out-of-place as he struts across the cafe, hitting a table with his thigh, and sneering at it as if it insulted his mother. He’s tall with broad shoulders, and his hair is slicked back while the sides of his head are buzzed. He wears a black turtle neck under and open jacket and a pair of matching slacks that show off his ankles. His loafers are a rippling grey and black snakeskin print with a shining silver buckle.
You grip the sides of the till as he approaches but he doesn’t look at you. You stare, a little put off by his lack of acknowledgement as he peers up at the menu. He steps forward, tapping his fingers on the counter as he blows out between his lips. A golden signet ring flashes on his pinkie. You’re still not sure he’s in the right place.
“Hello, sir, can I get you--”
“Shh,” he hisses and holds up his finger. You snap your mouth shut and blink. He squints at the menu. He hums, clucking as he gives a thoughtful look to the hand-painted letters. Alright?
You wiggle your foot impatiently, biting your tongue. You’re not an inherently rude person but some customers make you wish you were. You watch him and he finally lowers his chin.
“Oat latte. Half blonde espresso, half regular, with the toffee nut syrup and a sprinkle of cinnamon.”
You nod as you punch in his order. It’s quite the drink. Sometimes you think people just pile on to see how far they can push service workers. They can’t just have a simple drink. Some even request the temperature to the digit.
“Alright, got it, it’s fifty cents for the syrup, is that okay?”
“Fifty cents?” He echoes haughtily, “no, that’s not okay.”
“Um, okay, well, it’s uh, on the menu,” you crane to look behind you, “fifty cents for a flavour shot, twenty-five for whipped cream.”
“I didn’t ask about goddamn whipped cream. They don't charge me here, doll. Get me the goddamn drink,” he demands.
You reel. Admittedly, you’re new. You’re learning but your first lesson was simple; customers are awful.
“I can just take the syrup off, I guess,” you hit the x and the whole order disappears.
“Didn’t you hear me? No charge, honey. It’s on the house.”
You purse your lips and look at him. You raise a brow. Alright, this is a new one.
“Um, if you’d just hold on, I think... uh, I should ask--”
“Yeah, you better fucking ask,” he sneers as swipes at a stack of paper cups and sends them flying. You flinch out of the way and spin to burst through the door to the kitchen.
“Uh, Bre,” you say, “there’s a really angry dude out there and he wants a free latte so uh, what do I do about that?”
She looks over at you as she puts a tray of cookies on a cooling rack. She frowns and her forehead stitches. She pulls of her oven mitt and checks her fitbit.
“Shit, it’s Thursday,” she mutters as if it’s the end of time.
“Yeah, it is, so uh--”
She waves away your words with the mitt and tosses both on the counter as she hurries past you. Confused, you turn to follow her through the swinging door. You stay behind her as she goes to the till.
“Mr. Hansen, so lovely to see you, what were we getting today?” She chimes, more lively than you’ve ever heard you. At any other time, she’s dulcet, almost monotone, completely over the cafe lifestyle.
He scoffs and his eyes drift from her to you. He pokes his tongue into his cheek, “oat, toffee nut, half blond, half regular, cinnamon on top,” he notes each element tersely, “and how about you teach this one some goddamn manners.”
He glares at you and you give a wide-eyed look. You shrug at Bre as she glances over at you. She shakes her head subtly. You take a step back.
You grab a cup and she quickly takes it out of your hands, “I got it, stay out of the way.”
You put your hands up and back away. You don’t know what you did wrong. Who is this man? He smirks and hovers on the other side of the counter as he crosses his arms over his puffed chest. Bre brews a fresh espresso and steams the oat milk.
“I’m waiting, sweet lips,” he cups a hand to his ear, his other arm still over his chest.
You look back and forth.
“Apologise,” he demands.
Bre clears her throat and you glance over, your mouth falling open dumbly.
“Oh, uh,” you face the man again, “I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t know--”
“Well, now you fucking do,” he sneers as Bre places a cup down before him and a paper bag.
“Mr. Hansen, there’s a cinnamon bun for you too. We just took em out of the oven.”
“You’re such a dear, Bre Bear,” he cooes, sending you a venomous snarl.
You cringe as he spins and strides out with his fare. You watch after him, still thoroughly perplexed. Bre wipes the counter with a cloth.
“The next time he comes in, give him whatever he wants,” she says quietly.
“Oh, I didn’t... who is he?” You garble.
“Better you don’t know. Just think of him as the boss,” she sends you a desperate look, her eyes gleaming, “if you know what’s good for you, you’ll smile and listen.”
She brushes you with her shoulder as she goes back into the kitchen. You furrow your brow and glance towards the door. The man’s just outside the windowed walls, watching you. He winks before he disappears beyond the next facade
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cloudshuffle · 2 months
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an arrow, a spark. yan!childe
index / next / beta reader @malewifeharem
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When they assign you to a new division in the Fatui, you think nothing much of it. People were always being moved around in the organisation, people disappeared under mysterious circumstances, new recruits were popping up out of nowhere.
What was strange, however, was whose division you were assigned to. Fatui Harbinger Tartaglia, all the way in Liyue, no less - or Ajax, as you knew him better.
“I'll be sorry to see you go,” Signora says from behind you.
You jump, nearly dropping the stack of papers in your hands. She stands in the doorway, imposing as always, yet the air she gives off implies she's left off a “darling” at the end of her sentence.
Madame Signora's always been fond of you for reasons you've never known, though that often meant being stuck in dull, dull meetings and organising her paperwork for her.
You salute her, then laugh nervously. In the midst of your packing, your office looks like a hurricane hit it, stacks of books and papers scattered everywhere. Not the best look to put forward to your boss.
“So, Liyue.” She takes a step, placing her right inside the threshold of your office. Behind her, her new bodyguard slash secretary shifts his weight from foot to foot. “Quite a ways from home, yes?”
“It is.” The land of the Geo Archon, Morax, but most importantly his creation of mora. A warm place by far, considering Snezhnaya's standards, but its trade sector was coldly competitive.
“How do you feel about it?”
How did you feel? The question catches you by surprise, much like her appearance in your office. Never before had you been asked your personal opinion on anything before, least of all by a harbinger.
It’s just work.
“It’s a great opportunity to expand my horizons and learn about another culture, ma’am.”
She chuckles elegantly. “A textbook answer. Good. It’d be useful if you kept those same wits around Tartaglia.”
You blink, a cloud of dust distracting you briefly from what she’d just said. “...Tartaglia, ma’am?”
“Oh, yes.” Her red lips curve into a wry smile. “He requested for you specifically. He’s been pestering me, in fact, to let him have you.”
You remain silent, unsure of how to respond.
“But look at me, holding you up. I do hope you have fun while in Liyue - it can be quite the interesting place, after all.”
────────────
You don’t quite know what all the fuss about Tartaglia is about till lunch, when you venture into the mess hall with Nadia.
She doesn't even wait for the two of you to sit down before broaching the topic. “Did you know the eleventh is back is Snezhnaya?”
“He is?” You stab at your potatoes with your fork, eyeing her cheekily. “And I don't suppose you're in the market for a partner at the same time, are you?”
“Oh, not a harbinger.” She laughs. “That’s way too high profile for me.”
You eye the raised platform at the front of the hall where a long table’s been set. It’s more for show than anything else, seeing as how the harbingers have never once found themselves privy to dining with you common soldiers. There are twelve high-backed, intricately carved mahogany chairs, and one in the middle, larger than the rest, gilded with gold and complete with red velvet cushions. The Tsaritsa’s. Yet another reminder of who you all served.
Nadia's chatter washes over you like a soothing wave. You're grateful to have a friend when you go abroad, if only for distractions like this if nothing else.
She wants to marry and settle down already - a noble sentiment for a young Snezhnayan lady. You think any man would be lucky to have her.
For yourself, you're not so sure.
“Ooh!” She nudges you. “Don't look, but Vlad's over there. Isn't he cute?”
Against her wishes, you turn your head. He looks like any regular Snezhnayan man to you, blonde and with an angular face that could’ve been carved from the frozen earth itself. “Well, I guess. He looks kind.”
“And he's coming to Liyue too!” Nadia stage whispers.
“Exciting.” You raise an eyebrow.
You excuse yourself from your meal after a while, leaving the mess hall alone. Nadia's conversation was entertaining but exhausting, provided one could keep up with her endless stream of news and gossip from various sources.
But it's from this river of information that you sift out a tiny gold nugget: that Harbinger Tartaglia would be in the archery fields if he weren't busy preparing for his return to Liyue with his new crew.
Perhaps it's curiosity, or pure boredom that drives you outside into the cold.
The walk is familiar, ice crunching under your boots. It was admittedly difficult to walk on snow and ice - if you were anything but Snezhnayan, born and raised.
Your fingertips tingle with the phantom itch to hold a bow. It'd been a while…
You follow the path, rounding the building to a frozen field. A number of wooden targets and straw dummies are lined up, some in varying states of disrepair. A small hangover, an incline, really, provides minimal coverage against the wind like a very tiny rock against a great river.
As expected, there’s no one there. You feel a small sense of relief at having missed that chance encounter.
The new recruits train elsewhere. It’s a place only for those who want to exercise the muscles you rarely get to use, being cooped up in front of a desk all day.
You take up position at the edge of the field, summoning your bow and fixing three arrows to it.
They arc in a graceful, shining line, each landing perfectly in the middle of its respective target board.
You affix another arrow to the shelf, taking a deep breath. The world narrows to the point of your arrow and the fletching on the arrow you landed.
Dimly, you’re aware of the shuffling of feet behind you, quickly hushed. Probably just another of your fellow soldiers who wanted to get out of the noise of the mess hall. You pay them no mind.
You release the arrow, reload, release, reload. Three arrows land in rapid succession, splitting each of the previous arrows neatly down the shaft.
You exhale, and your senses return to you. The cold embraces you again, and you shake the tension out of your shoulders, putting your bow away. You can almost feel its sigh, already impatient for the next occasion it could perform.
Slow clapping. “An impressive show, soldier.”
You spin on your heel.
Tartaglia stands at the top of the incline, flanked by two bodyguards. As if he needed them within the walls of the Fatui stronghold, the youngest of all the harbingers, who single-handedly dug his fingers into the fabric of Liyue to get the Tsaritsa a foothold.
It’s been quite a while since you last saw him, you realise. He looks a little sharper, a little leaner, his gaze perhaps a little more complex, as if he were thinking of the future while simultaneously discerning all your secrets. The hydro vision on his belt winks at you in the cold light.
Standing on the incline, he looks like a conqueror, surveying his land. It's a good look for a harbinger to have.
“My lord.” You salute him smartly, tamping down your embarrassment at noticing them late. “My apologies for taking up your time.”
“Oh, no need for all that, padruga.” He comes down the slope, the bodyguards following a respectful distance behind. “It's always a delight to watch you in action.”
What had Madame Signora said? “He requested for you specifically”?
Ajax- no, Tartaglia, is a good head taller than you, maybe more. As he approaches, you have to incline your head to meet the unfamiliar gleam in his blue eyes. Whatever could he want from you?
“You've been well, I trust?” He summons his bow, and you take the cue to move a step backward, leaving him room to shoot.
“Well enough, may the Tsaritsa continue to watch over me.”
To your surprise, he snorts a laugh, loosing his arrow. It strikes deep into the wood, igniting a spark as it scrapes against yours. “A devotary? Some things certainly have changed around here.”
One of the bodyguards shifts his feet. You glance back at him, then at Tartaglia. “Is a harbinger not also subservient to her majesty?”
He chuckles. “Of course he is. I’m just… surprised.” Another arrow, another target. “You never struck me as the type to believe.”
You remain silent as the last arrow hits its mark. All just to the right of your own arrows, pressed so close they seem on the verge of falling off.
“Excellent marksmanship, my lord.” The impersonal compliment comes easily to your lips. You clasp your hands behind your back.
A gentle breeze begins to blow (the kind that might have killed a man in lesser clothing), unsettling his already unruly ginger hair. The bodyguards adjust their stances, as if roused by the cold wind.
“Certainly.” He grins, a self-assured smile, unhidden by a mask. You’re grateful for yours in that regard - no need to hide your emotions or expressions too well when all Fatui are shrouded in uniform secrecy. “Nothing but the best to serve her majesty.”
Somewhere deep within the halls, a bell begins to toll.
You snap to a salute. “Thank you for your time, my lord,” you say, as if he hadn’t been the one to seek you out for conversation first. “I must be taking my leave now.”
padruga: friend (female) according to google
— word count: 1598. thank you for reading!
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hellenhighwater · 2 years
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So let me see if I have this right: you are a single, learned woman, who keeps both cats and birds and communicates with them far better than most. You have quite the garden and make your own food quite a bit, and are uninterested in romantic endeavors. You are occasionally solitary, but the company you keep engages in similar bouts of strangeness. Your house grows foreign and foreboding in the darkness, though in light it appears quite mundane.
Ma'am, I think you might be a witch. Also, you are, like, one of the coolest people I know of.
Were it not for the bottomless and abiding scepticism rooted artery-deep in me, I'd be cooking up spells on the regular. But there's enough magic in the everyday for me, when I go looking for it.
As it stands, what I want is to be weird, authentically. I'd never call myself a witch because I don't have the belief to back it up, but I do believe in living with intention. Not as an aesthetic, although I think that beauty is in many respects as important as functionality. I don't want a plastic halloween cauldron with fake bubbling brew, I want a good cast iron dutch oven and black chili peppers from the garden. I want that feeling of being eight and mashing wild mulberries into a potion to happen every time I reach for the herbs in their mismatched glass jars in the cupboard. There's a heap of crystals on the top of my apothecary cabinet because I use them as paperweights for the heavy rag paper that's been stored rolled-up too long. If I have a familiar or two, it's only because I work consciously on building good communication with my four-legged roommates. And if the portrait in the drawing room seems to always follow you with his eyes...well, that's just my great-grandfather H.B. Wolf, who was always a little eccentric.
And yes, okay, I'd like the neighborhood kids to be a little scared to approach come Halloween night.
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strawberryfairi · 4 months
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Gurlllll, the choso fic....more please!!!! 🥵🥵🥵
Apartment 519... | Neighbor! Choso Kamo X Fem Reader Part 2
A short, sexy thirst (with a little more plot this time)💦 Choso's eager to give you better than your ex could...
↳ A/N🧚🏾‍♀️: Ask and u shall receive...I been cookin'🫡 I hope you enjoy this one as much as the first💚
Part 1
w.c. 2.1k
It's been two days since your breakup...and since your neighbor Choso went and blew your mind in your bed.
You really weren't sure what to do from here. He'd made it clear his intentions with you, which now that you think about it, was very fitting with his usual sweet and considerate character. It's just...you wanted to make the right choice, and you weren't sure what that right choice even was.
Flashback 2 Night Ago
You were laid on your bed next to him, completely exhausted and beyond satisfied. Choso was careful with you, not wanting to come on too strong yet still wanted-no needed for you to understand what this had meant to him. So he leans on his elbow, resting his head on his palm as he looks down at you.
"I uhh...I don't want you to think I was just using you while you were vulnerable. I really meant everything I said, and I-..." He trails off nervously, looking to the side for a moment before steeling himself. "I don't want this to have been just a regular one night stand, and..if you want, I could maybe take you out to dinner some time?" He finishes, looking you in the eyes with as much sincerity as he could muster.
You heart strings pulled in your chest. It was just so much happening in one day. It's not like you weren't flattered or anything it's just...everything's moving so damn fast.
It had only been just a few hours ago that you'd found your boyfriend with a whole other woman, sloppily kissing each other in his car. Now you're with someone else already too, having had such amazing sex and now he's telling you he basically wants more.
"I...don't know what to say." You murmur hesitantly.
"No no, you don't have to say anything!" He blurts out, placing a hand on your bare shoulder.
"I just didn't want you to think I was trying to take advantage of you. I think you're really beautiful, and I wanna get to know you more." He adds, giving you the most cutest nervous smile you've ever seen.
It makes a smile of your own creep across your lips. "Thank you, Choso. You're really sweet." Leaning over, you plant a soft kiss on his rosy cheek, unintentionally giggling at the goofy-lovestruck look on his face.
"Will you think about it? About me taking you out?" He asks, eyes sparkling hopefully.
It was almost shocking how nervous he is when just a bit ago he seemed so confident, so self-assured. Right now he's damn near reminding you of a puppy.
"Yeah. I will."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Present
The morning after your night with Choso, he'd placed his number on a small piece of paper, leaving it on the night stand on your side of the bed.
Now, two days later, you still haven't touched it.
It seemed like the right decision, just don't touch it so you could give yourself time to actually process your break up. This wasn't just any old, cutesy relationship, you were in love. For the first time you'd actually think and think realistically about possibly spending your life with someone. The two of you planned a future together, and though it terrified you to think about it, at the end of the day you were dating to marry.
Choso's just a neighbor, an attractive neighbor, but...you just weren't sure if it was a good idea to be around him. But even so it wasn't like you could avoid him very well, the dude lives directly across from you.
The morning after was so awkward. The two of you ran into each other in the parking lot, both getting ready to head off and start the day. He always goes to work in the morning, and you like to do work at your favorite cafe just a few minutes from the apartment.
Neither of you seemed sure about what to say to each other, so you just opted for a simple smile and wave.
The entire day you tried to just get your mind off of both guys, yet it didn't go very well.
One hour you'd be crying angrily over your piece of crap ex boyfriend in the public bathroom stall, then you'd be getting those random flashbacks to being with Choso, stomach flipping and heart fluttering.
By the end of the day you couldn't take it. Weighing the pros and cons, you figured you'd might as well just try one date, and if things don't go well then that's that.
It's nearly eleven p.m., around the time you knew Choso gets back to his apartment from his workout. You'd timed it perfectly, rushing over to your front door and poking your head out. There he was in his gym clothes, a black compression shirt paired with dark grey sweatpants. His hair was up in his usual hairstyle, those cute spiky looking buns that really matches with his overall vibe.
"Choso!" You call out to him just before he could turn the doorknob.
Instantly he stops, turning back towards you with his brows raised in surprise. "H-hey."
"I'm really sorry I never called or texted you, I just had to think. But-..but I wouldn't mind going on a date with you. I wanna get to know you more too." You admit, cheeks heating up with slight embarrassment.
For a moment he doesn't say anything, making your heart sink to your feet, worried that maybe he'd moved on from you already. "Am I..too late?"
"No not at all! I was just surprised. I honestly thought you didn't want to go out with me." He chuckles nervously, brushing a hand over the back of his neck.
"No I do! I definitely do." You giggle.
"Are you free Friday night? I could pick you up at seven?" He suggests with a soft tone.
"Yeah, that's perfect! Should I dress pretty nice or...-
"You always dress nice, don't worry about it." He compliments flirtatiously.
"I'll see you then."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Friday Evening
The two of you stand there outside of your respective homes, eyes trailing over each other.
Choso looks...gorgeous. He's got his hair out from his usual style, down and brushed back out of his face. His outfit is a black, slightly ripped sweater, the neckline hanging low enough to show his prominent collarbones, paired with black cargo pants. A silver chain hang around his neck, along with two rings on each pointer and ring finger on both hands.
Your outfits were polar opposites, you being more of a bright color lover since it pops so well against your skin.
You were wearing a light blue, form fitting midi dress, your hair in a simple updo with drop earrings. A pair of white heels, and a silver sparkly purse completed your look.
"You look beautiful." He states softly, closing the door to his apartment.
"Thank you, you look really nice yourself." You compliment with a bashful laugh.
💎
Choso ended up taking you out to a fairly nice Italian restaurant further into the city, with dim lighting, and top notch servers.
It was a pleasant surprise how easy he was to talk to, you could go on and on about anything and everything with each other, and he loved to ask you questions about yourself. It almost made you feel bad as sometimes it seemed it was mostly you sharing things about yourself. It was sweet though, as it showed just how eager he was to get to know you.
You learned he's an eldest brother, with a younger sibling named Yuji who likes to comes to visit him every now and then. It didn't take long to realize he's a very family-oriented kind of guy, but it made sense with his overall personality. The guy's so compassionate and thoughtful, of course he'd be the family first type. You loved it about him though, he talked about his brother like he was his entire world.
The night had gone by just a bit too fast in your opinion, even though you guys were at that restaurant for nearly two hours, then spent another three just leisurely walking around the city afterwards.
There wasn't a single moment with Choso that you didn't like, and he was such a gentleman. He never let you walk around without your arm linked with his, and he made sure you were always walking on the inside of every sidewalk. It was disappointing when you both came back to the apartment building, if you could, you'd just stay out with him talking the entire night.
"I really had a lot of fun with you, Choso. If you want, I-..I'd definitely be down to do this again." You suggest shyly, eyes looking down at your hands clasping around your little sparkly purse.
"Me too, and I would." He smiles cutely. You look up at him, relief and excitement flashing across your face. "Goodnight." He murmurs, leaning down and planting a soft kiss on your cheek. Your heart fluttered wildly in your chest, cheeks heating up at the sweet gesture. He gives you one last smile before reaching for his keys, unlocking his apartment and heading inside.
You're frozen in the corridor chewing the inside of your cheek as you inwardly debate your uncharacteristically bold next move.
"W-wait!" You mutter abruptly, grabbing his free hand just before he left out of sight.
"I-...would you wanna...come over?" You ask shyly. You couldn't even look up at him you were so nervous, hoping you weren't coming across thirsty.
Choso's brows raise slightly in surprise. "Yeah. Sure, I'd love to."
You let out a breath you didn't even realize you were holding, smiling wide in excitement as you go into your purse and grab your keys.
1 Hour Later
Choso's large hands glide down to your upper back, pressing you further into the mattress as he pounds into you from behind. Tears quickly form in the corner's of your eyes, gripping the sheets with everything you have.
"Ch-choso! Fuuuck!" You wail loudly, feeling your body start shaking all over again. One thing about sex with Choso is he'll have you losing count of how many times you cum for sure. He's like an orgasm addict, building you up and watching you fall apart on him over and over.
"Cum for me pretty baby." He coos lowly, watching those cute little tears of ecstasy stream down your cheeks.
"Aaaah! Ah!" Your whimpers mix perfectly with the sounds of your sloppy wet pussy coating his length with yet another layer of cum.
"That's it, there it is." He groans, keeping his strokes steady and precise.
You're so fucked out at this point your mind is completely fogged. This position he has you in doesn't make it any easier, completely at the mercy of his skillful, long thrusts, reaching so deep inside you.
"You feel so gooood! Oh my god!" You cry, loving the way his hips snap into yours. For the entire night your ex was long gone as if he never even existed. The only clear thing your mind could focus on was Choso and Choso only.
"Uhhuh, you love this dick, baby?" He murmurs lowly.
"I love it! I love it!" You repeat over and over desperately between your whimpers and cries.
It was already too much, and you were surprised you hadn't tapped out by now, pleading for him to stop. But you couldn't get enough, not nearly enough. So you took everything he graciously gave to you.
Choso slows his thrusts down just a bit, wanting to savor every inch of him that drags back and forth in your tight, slippery walls. "This pussy's so good. I can't stop fucking you." He purrs sensually.
And he stood on that too...
He gave you back shots as long as he wanted, just to pull out and fuck you with his tongue, making you cum on it before he slides his big dick right back inside.
Somehow tonight was even better than the first time with him, and now that he's learned what you like he uses every little technique, determined on mastering it.
"I like you baby; wanna be yours." He admits softly. He's got a tight hold on your hips, laid out on your stomach as he drives his thick length into you. You let out a long, drawn out moan in response, way too overstimulated to form words anymore.
Choso knew you weren't fully aware of just how much he likes you. He knew you didn't click to the way he's always looked at you. To be honest, he always felt like he was better than your ex, he knew he could do so much better. He wants to show you what it's really like to be loved by someone, and now that he has a chance he damn sure wasn't about to go and waste it.
He's gonna pursue you, take you out on as many dates as he needs to, kiss and fuck you with everything he has, all so it's crystal clear that he wants to be more than just your sweet little neighbor across the way.
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thefiery-phoenix · 1 month
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yandere h.c for Sam, too <33
Sure
YANDERE SAMUEL SEO HEADCANONS
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There are no words to express how much I simp for this man despite him being a walking red banner lol 
If you've managed to catch his attention, all I can say is RUN. Although that wouldn't really do you much good either since he's the President of the Worker's Affiliates and he does have a lot of influence, being Eugene's right hand man(before stabbing him in the back) does have it's own advantages. You could be a regular cafe worker or a member of the Worker's Affiliates, whatever it is, when he lands his eyes on you the only thought that will be running through his head will be 'They're MINE' 
He's one territorial, possessive, obsessive and manipulative MF to say the least. He has no qualms even going as far as literally THREATENING the people you're close to, friends and family included just so he can be with you. A literal walking red flag, his arrogant cocky smirk itself should be obvious. He wants possess you and make you his completely, he'll fall HARD for you and when he does, he won't be able to come back from that chasm of obsessive love for you. You remind him of a small little prey, so helpless and naive and he likes it that way. Don't get him wrong, he does love you, in his own twisted obsessive manner of course 
Man here has abandonment issues to the core, daddy issues, Gun issues(Lol who doesn't) and insecurities as well but when you comfort him, he's confused at first, he's genuinely taken aback. It's been so long since he's remembered someone taking the time and effort to comfort him and make sure he's doing all right. He'll reply in a calm and stoic manner that he's fine but deep down his heart is racing wildly, he's secretly really glad you're taking the time to comfort him. He'd rather die than admit this but he does appreciate your gesture. He likes how innocent and sweet you are, which makes him want to protect you and keep you safe. With him. Where you rightfully belong 
He's really not above bugging your entire apartment with hidden cameras so he can get a glimpse of your daily life, it's like a window into what you do everyday. He finds it so amusing and thinks it's adorable how you haven't figured out that he's secretly watching every move you do. He'll have his men find out more about you and the amount of information he has on you, he's ready to write a whole freaking research paper about you, that's how well he knows you now. Your social media accounts, your contacts list and yes, even all those fan fiction sites you like reading and visiting...he'll have them all. He'll immediately block all the people he doesn't like, he doesn't want some random pest stealing you away from him. He'll get information on those annoying pesky friends of yours and his mind will be racing of thoughts on how to dispose of them as soon as possible so you'll be his in every way possible 
No matter what, Samuel is ALWAYS around you one way or another. If some random person tries to hit on you or something, the very next day they'll immediately be reported missing. People will start disappearing from your life like flies and it's all HIS doing. He either pays them money to prevent them from seeing you again or he'll just straight up murder them. Though he does lean towards the second option quite frequently. If you try to accuse him of something, he'll just smirk at you and say something like "Sweetheart, you're mistaken. I wouldn't act as rash and unprofessional as this..." Yeah Right
You'll be kidnapped pretty soon because no WAY is he going to stand by and let someone try to steal you from him. You're HIS. You'll wake up on his bed while he'll have his usual standard smirk on his face as his arms are crossed over his muscular tattooed chest and he strides over to you. "Ah good, you're awake...there are going to be some changes to your lifestyle now'' he says in a calm manner as he lights a cigarette and smokes it calmly, like everything is all right after he literally just kidnapped you. Scream and throw as many number of tantrums as you want, he'll just find you amusing. If you want to cry, he might pretend to be slightly annoyed at first but he'll sigh softly as he wipes your tears with his thumb and then whisper in that husky voice of his in your ear to be good for him unless you want your loved ones to be safe. Sadistic MF 
You, of course won't know the reality of what he actually does and he prefers to keep it that way. What you don't know won't hurt you. Though he might be unhinged at times, he has his soft moments with you as well. He likes to hold you in his arms and press soft kisses to the nape of your neck and steal a few kisses on your lips every now and then. His kisses on your lips always leave you wanting for more and slightly gasping for air, he's that good lol. He just likes physical intimacy with you a lot. He might not be too expressive by words about his feelings of love for you but he believes that his actions are enough to make up for them. If anyone else touches his hair, he'd have broken their hand by now but if it's you, he'll have a soft smile on his face and pull you on his lap as he hums contentedly. It really HAS been a while since he's felt so happy and he couldn't have been more thankful since you came into his life 
He'll take you out for dates in fancy restaurants and spoil you with whatever your heart desires. Or if you want to have a quiet night in, that could be arranged too with you in his arms. I seriously pity the poor fool who tries to hurt you or steal you from him though. He will straight up TORTURE them with the way he fights. He loses complete self control when he fights, his mind is like a beast filled with pure unadulterated anger and rage as he breaks the bones of whatever schmuck dared to set their filthy eyes on you. Or he'll just kill them, not after banging their head to the wall over and over again and stomping on their face as he calmly smokes a cigarette (because MOOD) and he'll end up choking the person to death with one hand. After that's done, he'll grumble about how he's got blood on his suit but he's glad to go back home to be with you. Don't question the blood on his suit...just don't, for the sake of your sanity. He does get rather annoyed when they keep screaming for mercy though, he'll just smile at them in an unnerving manner and cut their tongue off to silence them 
Samuel adores you and loves you with all his twisted heart. Deep down he's still a bit insecure of himself. Don't even think of leaving him, it's a death wish. He'll just track your location in a few moments and he'll drag you back home. You'll end up being tied to his bed until you earn your freedom and his trust to move around again. Besides, you don't need to whine and complain so much, not when he's the one taking care of you. He's ready to do ANYTHING to ensure you stay by his side no matter what...
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impala-dreamer · 5 months
Text
Pondering Fate While Ignoring The Obvious
A Ten Inch Hero Story
~Priestly has got it so bad for Tish that he can barely see past the end of her... well, her back end, anyway. He's love sick and forever rejected, constantly stuck inside his own head. When a new girl in town starts messing with him, he quickly loses his cool...~
Boaz Priestly x F!Reader
2,511 Words
Warnings: Nuttin' but fluff and banter. ;)
A/N: This is another square for my @jacklesversebingo card. The prompt is "Backhanded Compliment/Convenience Store/Sugar Addict"
Now listen- I've never written for this movie before, but I had so much fun doing it. If you've seen the movie, I think you'll love this. If you haven't seen it, you may not totally get it, but you'll still love it because it's cute and fluffy and I said so. Give it a chance ;)
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Another day, another spicy Italian with no oil and no vinegar. How you could eat a hero dry was a question he could never quite grasp the answer to, but in the end, did another weird order really matter? He’d put a condom on the bun if they asked for it. Maybe not a used one, but then again, Tish was looking extra spicy herself today.
Tish. Goddamnit. There she goes flirting with every male in existence except him. There she is leaning over the counter in that not-so-sneaky way that pushes her tits up and out, giving everyone and their mother a look into the valley of the Promised Land. 
For fuck’s sake, if she’d only do that for him. 
Then again, nothin’ he hadn’t seen before. 
Fingers snapped in front of his face and Priestly blinked himself back into reality. 
“Can I help you?” he asked, still half dazed and half hard after staring so intently at his coworker. 
Piper sighed. “Yeah. You gotta make a run down the street.” 
He sighed harder. “You know, you ladies are capable of patronizing the convenience store now and then. It’s not really hard. You just pick out what you need and exchange it for cash.” 
The tiny blonde pouted and batted her lashes. “Please? My feet hurt from standing all day.” 
He scoffed. “And mine don't?” 
“I’m not used to it. I’m delicate.” 
Priestly scratched at the bright green spikes that sat atop his head for the day, masquerading as a hairstyle. He frowned but relented. “Fine. Gimme the list.” 
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He saw her from the street. He wasn’t purposely peeping through the window like a stalker, but he felt like it all the same. It wasn’t his fault, not really. Things mostly stayed the same around town, so when something was different, when someone new showed up, it tended to stick out a bit. 
The new girl at the register was cute, not particularly daring in her style or makeup palette, but she was attractive. Probably the thing Priestly noticed first was the lollipop stick hanging from her painted lips. 
His entrance was announced by the jangling of bells and she looked up as he came in. She smiled around the pop and twirled the white paper stick between her fingers. 
“Welcome.” 
He looked back at her over his shoulder and nodded. “Hey.” 
Slowly, she pulled the treat from her mouth and licked the very tip. Her tongue was as red as the pop and Priestley was sure that his cheeks were turning the same shade. He cleared his throat quickly and turned back, going about his business. 
The store was otherwise empty except for Mr. Jacobson, the old man who never seemed to go anywhere but was always wherever you went. He was currently lingering at the end of the aisle, amazed at the sheer amount of chip flavors the new millennium had to offer. 
“Back in my day we had regular and salt & vinegar, and we were grateful!”
Priestly laughed under his breath and looked over the rack at the register. She was laughing softly as well, and when their eyes met, she didn’t shy away. 
He did; quickly tearing his gaze from the cherry pop and focusing on the aluminum foil instead. There was no use flirting with her anyway- she’d never go for him. She looked too normal, too pretty to fall for his shenanigans. Best not to even think about it. 
Arms fully stocked, he headed her way, keeping his eyes on the black and gray tiled floor and praying she wouldn’t make his heart race any faster. 
She sucked hard on the Blow Pop and then took a bite, making him jump. Sugar crackled between her teeth and she winked.
“I hope you overcharge them,” she said dryly, staring him down. 
Confusion took the place of shyness and Priestly’s face scrunched up. “What?” he snapped, jerking away from the counter. 
The girl rolled her eyes and went about ringing up his order without another word. 
Cash exchanged, Priestly thanked her and walked out, still wondering what the hell she was talking about. 
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Monday. 
Priestly stared out the front window, wondering if the day was going to go his way or not. He knew he shouldn’t bother pondering the Fates, because they always seemed against him, but he liked to think he had some hope tucked away somewhere beneath the Manic Panic hair dye and all the metal sticking out of his head. If there was, he couldn’t find any today. 
Tish was late, as usual, probably rolling out of some strange guy’s arms and fishing for her bra underneath the bed. 
Someday… someday, that’d be his bed she was searching under. Someday, those would be his arms she rolled out of. He just had to keep hoping.
Or not. He really didn’t care. 
The sun was too bright, the grill was too hot. He hated everything. 
Except the sound of bubblegum popping behind him. He didn’t seem to hate that. 
With spatula in hand, he turned and startled just enough to make the bubblegum appear between coyly smiling pink lips. 
“Hey.” 
Priestley squinted. “You’re that chick from the store.” 
Annoyance crept onto her face. “And you’re that dude with too much eyeliner.” 
He laughed before realizing she was insulting him and ended up jolting up on his toes awkwardly, half a smile curled on his lip. 
He cleared his throat. “Priestly.”
She squinted. “Like Elvis?” 
He shrugged. “And you are?” 
“Hungry.” 
Slapping a five on the counter, she picked up her hero and spun away, heading toward the door. She turned to push it open with her backside and popped her gum again. 
Her eyes were glued to him and Priestly felt his stomach flip. He met her gaze and she smiled. 
“I always do.” 
He wanted to say something, to ask her what the hell she was talking about, but she was gone before the words reached his tongue. 
“Always do what?” 
Jen turned her head his way, but her eyes were still locked on the computer screen. “What’s up?” 
He sighed. “Nothing. Just a weird girl from…nothing.”
It was nothing. She was just the weird girl from down the street. And anyway, he was supposed to be hating everything today, not shifting his ponderance to the mystery of the gum chewing, pop crunching girl from the convenience store. 
“Nothing.”  
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Blue hair; don’t care. 
Priestly cracked an egg on the grill and watched the edges sizzle. He wasn’t great at a lot of things, but cooking eggs was something he did exceptionally well. The butter bubbled around the perimeter, curling the whites just slightly, and he pushed the tip of his spatula against it. 
Not ready yet. 
The girls were, yet again, chatting about men, and he kept one ear on the sizzle and the other in their conversation. 
“I just don’t understand how hard it is to find. It’s right there.” Tish laughed and pushed a delicate hand back through her hair. “It’s a clit, not the Holy Grail.” 
Priestly raised a brow. “Some would call it that though,” he interjected. 
She rolled her eyes. “You would.”
Offended, he sucked in a quick breath. “Ya know something-” 
She turned, one hand on her hip, waiting. “Yeah?”  
His lips pursed and dejected, he turned back to the grill. “Forget it.” 
“Thought so,” she laughed. 
God, she was such a bitch sometimes. OK, most times, but still.
Tish went back to leaning on the counter and he took the opportunity to peek at her ass. 
Behind him, a throat was cleared. 
Priestly sighed, knowing what was waiting for him when he turned. Or, rather, who. 
“You again.” He batted his lashes. 
She smacked her lips. “Me again.” From her pocket, she withdrew a pink Starburst and fiddled with the wrapper. 
He eyed the candy and followed it to her mouth. Her lips were darker today and it reminded him of the cherry pop. “You eat too much sugar, you know that?”
She smiled gently. “And you dye your hair too much. That isn’t good for you. All those chemicals are gonna fry your brain.” 
“Joke’s on you, it’s already fried- shit!” Fried egg. Burnt to a crisp. “Damnit.” 
Sugar Girl swallowed a laugh and the Starburst. 
He turned around, annoyed at himself and her laughter. “Are you- do you want something?” 
“Yup.” She nodded and took her order from Piper, who was holding a small, paper-wrapped hero. “Thanks.” 
Green eyes narrowed on her smile. She was weird. Way too weird. And kinda rude. 
“You ever gonna tell me your name?” he asked, calling out as she pushed open the door. 
“Sure,” she replied, “Soon as I get my free sample.” 
“Huh?” 
Confusion always seemed to linger when she left, that and the smell of strawberries. Or cherries, or whatever she’d been sucking on. 
Sucking on…
His eyes flickered over to Tish and he wondered if she was as good at sucking things as she claimed.
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It was raining and he was cranky. 
He’d missed his alarm, the car wouldn’t start, and a passing bus nearly drenched him head to toe. 
It wasn’t supposed to rain at the beach. It was practically against the law. Nature’s law, anyway. 
And to top it all off, Tish was bragging about the amazing night she’d had with a handsome stranger visiting from New York. 
“He’s just in town for a few days, so it’s nothing serious,” she explained to a wide-eyed Piper who was drinking down every word. “But man, I wouldn’t be mad if it was. He’s… tall and handsome and-” 
Priestly cleared his throat. “Ya know I’m pretty tall.” 
She clicked her tongue. “And?” 
His heart ached at her callousness. “And… just thought I’d remind you.”
Maybe she didn’t know what she was doing to him, but he thought his advances were fairly obvious. Maybe she was just a bitch.
Jen derailed his thought train with a shopping list she’d printed out. 
He shook his head. “No.” 
“Please?”
The shop on the corner was the last place he wanted to go. Nameless Sugar Girl was the last person he wanted to see. “Why do I always have to go?” He pouted and gestured to the window. “It’s pouring rain out there.” 
Jen looked up with puppy-dog eyes. “Which is why I’m asking you to please go.” 
A heavy sigh was his only reply. Priestly grabbed the paper from her hand, crumpling it beyond repair, and set out into the downpour. 
He was dripping by the time he made it down the street. He sneered at the water on his face, rolled his eyes at the welcome mat, swatted viciously at the bells as they rang above his head. 
“Rough morning?” she asked, watching his huffy entrance. 
He scowled. “You could say that.” 
A peppermint rolled on her tongue and the red and white stripes caught his eye. “Well, lemme know if you need any assistance.” 
Priestly ran a hand through his teal-tinted hair and shook out a puddle’s worth of rain. “Yeah. Thanks.” 
It took him a while to collect the goods, having trouble finding the right paper towels that would fit into the holder in the bathrooms. He’d never had any issues in the store before; seemed like someone had rearranged. 
Someone. 
He looked across the rows of sundries and wondered what her deal was. Hell, he still didn’t even know her name. Not that he wanted to, of course. 
Of course. 
Finally, and with much annoyance, he arrived at the register. 
She laughed softly as he unloaded his arms. 
He shook his head. “What?” 
“I… I shouldn’t even touch this one.” 
He had no clue what she was talking about, he never did, and he was at the end of his rope. 
His patience snapped. “What?”
She sat back, clearly hurt by his tone. “Your shirt.” 
She pointed at his chest and he looked down, reading the big black letters upside down. 
‘Save a tree, eat a beaver’
His shoulders fell. “Oh. Yeah. Whatever.” 
“Yeah,” she echoed, the sting heavy in her voice. “Whatever.” 
He couldn’t take it anymore. Dropping a can of coffee onto the counter, he slapped his palms down on either side of it and leaned in. 
“Ya know, everytime I see you, you’ve got something snarky to say.”
Her eyes went wide. “Snarky?” She frowned. “I thought I was flirting.” 
The fight drained out of him along with the blood in his cheeks. Confused once more. “Uh… what?” 
Pushing herself up off the stool, she mirrored his pose, hands falling dangerously close to his. “Flirting,” she said again. “It’s an ancient ritual in which a sexually interested party attempts to lure their prey into bed with witty and charming wordplay.”
He balked. “I know what flirting is!” 
She glared. “Then why haven’t you picked up on the fact that I’ve been trying to pick you up for weeks now?”
“I uh…” His elbows buckled and he stood up fully. “You have?” No way. She wasn’t…
Memories of the past month flooded his mind. Each time he’d seen her she was smiling at him, not being snarky. She was teasing him, answering the ridiculous sayings on his shirt. 
‘I sell crack for the CIA.’ … “I hope you overcharge them”
‘Surf naked.’ … “I always do.” 
‘Orgasm Donor - Ask for your free sample’ … “As soon as I get my free sample.”
It had been smacking him in the damned face and he hadn’t seen it. She had been playing with him the whole time, not trying to annoy him. She wanted him to notice her, but he was too busy dreaming of Tish, wondering when she’d notice him. 
He sucked in a stunned breath. “You have. Wow.”
A tiny smile returned to her cherry lips. “Come on, I know you’re not as dumb as your fashion sense implies.”
Priestly felt a dip in his gut, something fluttering around inside. He grinned. “Oh, I’m way dumber.” 
Reaching across the counter, she grabbed hold of his shirt and pulled him close. “Good.”
Her lips were soft, the kiss as sweet as the candy she was always eating. He breathed her in as her tongue swept over his.  He was stunned, confused but in a good way. Maybe he needed to push Tish aside and pay more attention to the world around him. Maybe this was a good thing. A really good thing. His eyebrows raised in surprise, his blood pressure raised even higher.
She pulled away slowly, her lips lingering on his. 
“You get it now?” 
She waited, blinking at him with the most beautiful eyes he’d ever seen. He should have looked sooner, closer; should have given her a chance.  
“Yeah,” he whispered in a laugh. “I think I do.” 
Another kiss, a press of her hand at the nape of his neck. 
“You ever gonna tell me your name?” 
She smiled. “Y/N.”
He reached for her cheek; fingers landing lightly on her soft skin. 
“Nice to meet you, Y/N.” 
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2023 Forever Tags (Always Open! Send an Ask!)
@aditimukul @agirlwithdemonblood @akshi8278 @alwayskeepfightingsweetheart @babysimpala @beardburnsupersoldiers @charred-angelwings @chenshemesh1 @cosicas-cuquis @djs8891 @deans-baby-momma @deanwinchesterswitch @deansyahtzee @feelmyroarrrr @foxyjwls007 @hobby27 @iamsapphine @idreamofdeanie @ilsawasanacrobat @impalaspixie @iprobablyshipit91 @jackles010378 @justcallmeasmodeus @kazsrm67 @kittenofdoomage @k-slla @leigh70 @lyarr24 @mariekoukie6661 @maggiegirl17 @pandaxo79 @peachy-vans @pizzagirlxnsfwx @rachiem4-blog @roseblue373 @sacriceria @samwellwinchesterthebrave @sexyvixen7 @spideysimpossiblegirl @spnexploration @stevekempscocktails @the-wounded-healer05 
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fubu18writes · 1 month
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❧a sugar daddy always treats his sugar baby right
♢regular tags: sugar daddy!kokonoi, sugar baby!reader, f!reader, established relationship, a bit fluffy ♢mature tags: age gap (koko is in his mid-thirties, reader is in their early 20s), oral (fem receiving), a bit of cock worship if you squint, nipple play if you also squint, idk what it's called but reader puts koko's dick inbetween her breasts (i think it's a titjob or titfucking look idk about this), squirting ♢all characters are 18+ until stated otherwise
a/n: imma just say that... kokonoi can be gentle if he wanted to, okay?
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After spending the day drinking vodka by the pool, you returned to your hotel room... only to discover that you were locked out. A cleaning lady eyed her suspiciously as you wander around the hall with only a bikini and a towel to cover your body.
And because you were a little bit angry at your boyfriend Kokonoi, you decided to stay in separate hotel rooms. Luckily... he was staring on the same floor as you.
You were hesitant once you made it to his room number, but you decided to throw your pride away and just knock on the door.
A few seconds pass by before you heard the door unlock, revealing Koko. "Baby, what happened?" He asks, looking at your shivering figure. You looked away, a bit embarrassed. "...I lost my room key." You managed to say.
He lets you in, and you examine the room a little. The room was dimly lit, and papers were neatly placed on the table. Koko handed you a bathrobe soon after. "I'll set up the coffee, okay?" He says as he heads off into the kitchen.
You put the bathrobe on and take a seat on one of the seats near the window. Koko came back with two cups and a kettle, and you were looking at the view. "Wow... your view is so much nicer than mine," You say. You hear Koko chuckle. "Well, you can come here at any time."
"I'm sorry about all of this," You apologize, referring to the fight you had a few days ago.
Koko shook his head. "No, don't apologize. It was my fault for not telling you anyway." He reassures.
There was a comfortable silence as he poured the coffee in the cups, admiring him as he does so. Long, white hair, cat-like eyes, a black polo shirt and khakis. While he may be snarky and cocky in public, to you, he was one of the sweetest persons you could ever ask for. Even if the age difference was a little jarring at first.
In other words, you found Kokonoi Hajime irresistable.
The both of you talked, laughed, and flirted for about an hour or so. By this time, you came out of the bathroom, all dried up. Koko was sipping some whiskey from his glass, and looked at you with a smile. "Your hair looks pretty like that, all curly." He says with a chuckle.
"Ah... no, I feel goofy with curly hair..." You say, your face turning red.
Koko let out another chuckle, rolling the ice cubes in his glass. "Not at all, really. And considering that we're not in the office..." His tone was definitely suggesting something, and you could feel it. "We can do whatever we want here..." He finishes, placing the glass down on the table before putting a hand on your thigh. At that, you leaned in and kissed him, the faint taste of whiskey still lingering on his lips.
The kiss was incredible. The bathrobe became untied as they traded tongues. She felt his grip on her thigh, his touch firm yet restrained. When you both pulled away from the kiss, you took his hand and led him to the couch. Koko was sitting, yet you were still standing up. Koko reclines, and you noticed the contour of his swelling dick in his pants. You leaned over, placing your hands on his upper thighs, allowing your breasts to dangle in front of his face.
"I just dried myself up, daddy," You say with a giggle. "You're going to make me all wet again..."
Koko let out a grin as you go down, carefully unbuttoning his pants. You pull them down, seeing his boxers and the head of his dick poking out of the bottom. You slowly climbed on top of Koko, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as you both kissed again.
Koko's hands stay firm on your ass as you grind on his hardened shaft. You were the first to pull away from the kiss, untying the strings of your bikini top, throwing it to the side to show your breasts and hardened nipples. "Look how my baby's turned on f'me..." Koko took her left one in his hand, and brought the pink nipple into his mouth.
You threw your head back in ecstasy. He lightly licked your nipple, and you could feel your bikini bottom becoming damp again. You clumsily pulled off his boxers, his dick springing up as you took it in your hand. His girth was impressive, and your hand looked small by comparison as you gently squeezed dick. You heard Koko groaning, giving you lustful eyes. "You like touching daddy's cock, baby?"
"I do..." You say with a shy whisper. "It's so big...~" You continue before kissing him again, crawling over to him on the other side of the couch. Koko took your ankles, jerking your hips close to him. You had curious anticipation in your eyes, and you let out a gasp when he tore away your bikini bottoms in one forceful tug. Koko saw your smile, your hair frizzy in the dim light before eyeing your pussy hungrily. He thumbed her glossed lips, taking her into his mouth as you grip onto his hair.
Koko could feel you squirming, and that only drove him to go deeper. The grip on his hair suddenly tightened as you moaned out, "Oh, fuck...~ daddy, do it more...~" and grinded on his face. Your ankles were shivering with pleasure, with Koko's hand on her inner thigh, and squeezed her breasts with the other. He pinched the edges of her nipple.
It was too much, all too much. You were close to cumming on his face before Koko came out for air, brushing his hair out of his face. The both of you were panting like animals from the sensation. You moved, turning yourself over and you felt the fabric of the couch on your nipples. You hoisted your ass in the air, despite your trembling legs. You turned to him, sounding out of breath as you asked, "Do you have a condom, daddy?"
Koko had one, of course... but he wasn't going to get it yet. "I wanna focus on my baby for a while longer, 'kay?" He asks her.
You weren't used to it. Or used to this for that matter. The farthest the both of you ever gone was just you sucking on his cock and him eating you out, but this? Nothing of the sort yet.
Maybe that was the advantage of being with an older man... he probably knew you were ready.
Without warning, Koko had licked your clit, sliding his fingers inside of her. Seeing you in this state made all the blood rush to his cock. He kept licking and playing until your toes curled, moaning out "Daddy, I-I'm gonna--!" and finally exploded into his mouth. You were out of breath, and all Koko could do was lick up every last drop of your cum. "Baby, you squirted all over...~" He says with a chuckle.
You were a bit embarrassed. "S-Sorry, daddy... it just felt too good..."
"You think you're ready for daddy's cock?" Koko asks as he leaves kisses on your neck. You only tilt your head to the side, managing out a whimper as he bites down on your sweet spot. "I think that's a yes."
Koko stood up, walking over to the bathroom and returned with a condom, his dick saluting her. He fixes the bathrobe, draping it on the couch. Koko applied the condom right in front of you. You could only clench against nothing, and you swore that you saw his cock twitch.
You held your breath, as she felt Koko gliding behind her. The couch began to creak, and you felt his tip just against your pussy before he slid the head inside of you. "T-Too big...~!" You moaned out, your legs shaking again as you gripped on the armrest. "Tell me if it hurts," He says earnestly as his fingers graze her hip.
Like a dream, their bodies move together in a timeless rhythm. You slowly eased his cock into you and rode him steadily. The soft glow of the lamp, their skin gleaming with sweat. "Fuuckkk...~" You moaned out. "D-Daddy...~ F-Fuck me deeper...~"
Koko slapped his hand on your ass, earning another moan from you. "Say that again, baby~"
"F-Fuck me deeper...~!" You moaned loudly.
The sound of their fucking echoed in the hotel room. You had to stabilize yourself, lowering your left leg until you felt the carpet on your bare foot. "Oh god, oh god...!" Your tits sway back and forth. "It feels s-so good, f-fuck me harder...~!"
You came a second time, with him inside as your spine cringed and curved. You let out a shout until your voice ran out. You saw Koko looming over you, and he takes off the condom with his left hand, jerking himself off.
You pressed your tits in between his cock, helping him. "Oh, fuck, baby..." He out a groan, his cock twitching as he released his essence all over. You felt his warm, white cum all generously all over your chest.
They basked in the afterglow of their sex, breathless. "Shit..." You say with a laugh. "I can't stop smiling..."
"You were incredible, baby." Koko kissed your forehead. "You held out and squirted all f'me...~"
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fastidious-fusarium · 10 days
Text
So i was thinking about the whole solarpunk chobani oatmilk ad (as depicted here) and a comment someone made in a different post (that I now can't find) where they said something along the lines of (paraphrasing) 'the marketing people at chobani being unable to imagine a future where their brand had ditched single-use containers in favor of a sustainable alternative'. And I started thinking how will food packaging look like in the solarpunk utopia?
Modern food packaging responds (mostly) to the needs of the globalized supply chain, where food products need to be moved great distances without being damaged and while taking up as little space and energy as possible. Packaging also needs to be made of the cheapest materials available, hence the preference for disposable containers made of light materials (cardboard, plastic, aluminium, paper, etc.). You don't want your package to be worth more than what it contains (although with some food products, that is close to being the case).
The comment I referenced earlier suggested using reusable glass containers as an example of a sustainable alternative to single-use containers. That makes sense, and there is historical (and current) precedent for such kinds of food containers. Just ask your parents (or grandparents, I guess) how milk used to be delivered to homes in the good ol' days.
In a more recent example, some places still use reusable (returnable) containers for products such as beer and (even!) Coca-cola, where you pay an initial fee for the container and get reimbursed once you return it, or you can exchange the empty container for a full one by paying the price of the product minus the container fee.
This solution, however, is still within the framework of the global supply chain of modern capitalism. In the solarpunk utopia, the goal would be to reduce (reuse, repair, recycle) the breadth of our current supply chain by prioritizing local consumption and disinsentivizing long-distance trade.
This train of thought led me to the question of wether processed, pre-packaged food would even be a thing in the solarpunk utopia. After all, if we are trying to consume only what is locally sourced, one of the main purposes of preserved (and thus packaged) food goes away. No need for bottled orange juice when you can just go to the commons bin and grab a kilo of fresh oranges to make your own.
Further, once there is no capitalism, the "convenience" angle of processed, packaged food also appears to go away. You don't have to work 9 hours a day, 6 days a week anymore. You have the time and resources necessary to make your own damn fresh orange juice, so why bother with the bottled stuff?
Well for one, not everything is as easy and convenient to do by yourself as orange juice. Fermented foods (cheese, wine, beer, soy sauce, even pickles and yogurt), bread and pastries and cakes, carbonated drinks, jams and marmalade, butter, mayonnaise, cured meats and fish, and (yes) almond milk are all tricky to make properly, take a long time to be made and/or are energy and resource intensive. The need for these kinds of foods will remain as long as we are human and find pleasure in eating and trying new things. Also, the need for mass-produced food does not go away with capitalism, after all we have a population of 10 billion humans with different dietary needs that need to be fed. Food safety standards must still be enforced and probably will be even more stringent when corporate profits are no longer standing in the way of progress.
To add to this, a localized supply chain will make food preservation even more important. After all, if you want your population to survive mostly on what can be produced in a 100 km radius, you will have to prepare for food scarcity. Droughts, floods, earthquakes, blizzards, accidents, and even just regular ol' winter (once we've rescued it from the clutches of climate change) don't care how solar your punk is. They will wreck your food supply and your utopia needs to be ready.
So the need for packaged food will remain. The need for food that can stay in a cupboard undisturbed for months (if not years) and remain edible (and reasonably palatable!) will continue to be there.
With all this in mind... what does food packaging look in our solarpunk utopia? Single-use plastics have gone the way of the dodo, as have single-use paper, cardboard, aluminium, glass, and steel. What has replaced them?
I have some ideas, but this post is already ridiculously long, so I'll save them for later. All I'll say for now is I think glass containers are not the way to go. Glass is heavy, fragile, a poor thermal conductor (so heating and cooling processes with glass containers are energy innefficient), and takes up a lot of space. It is also very resource and energy intensive to produce and recycle (so not the most environmentaly friendly in that regard either).
What does a reusable aluminium container look like? That'd be cool I think.
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captainsophiestark · 7 months
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Mad Scientist
Kol Mikaelson x Reader
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Masterlist - Join My Taglist!
Written for Fictober 2023!
Fandom: The Vampire Diaries/The Originals
Day 5 Prompt: "You're the smartest person I know."
Summary: Kol's dating a scientist who's buried in college-level work and more than ready for a ridiculous, fun version of science for a break.
Word Count: 1,685
Category: Fluff, Humor
Shoutout/Credit to The Scientific American for the info on how Mentos-Coke reactions work!
Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.
"Darling? What do you think would happen if I made pancakes with Mountain Dew instead of water?"
I paused, my pen hovering over the page in the middle of summarizing my findings for a lab I'd been working on at my university. I didn't turn around to face my boyfriend, Kol Mikaelson, who stood behind me in the kitchen, instead just staring off in thought for a moment.
"I don't know," I said, finally turning around to look at Kol. "As far as I'm aware, water's not one of the things like baking soda or eggs that's insanely important to the chemistry of baking. As long as you have the same amount of liquid, it should be fine. Maybe a little sweeter than normal, but basically still a pancake."
Kol grinned. "Excellent."
"What exactly brought this on?" I asked, standing from the kitchen table in the Mikaelson compound where I'd been working and wandering towards my boyfriend. "Just out of curiosity."
"Well you see," he said, holding his hands out in a grand presentation gesture and fixing me with a giant grin. "While I was getting the ingredients for making pancakes, I also found Mountain Dew. The rest is history."
"Interesting..."
I trailed off as I finally reached Kol, stopping so I could hold onto his arm and lean around him to look at the ingredients laid out on the counter, Mountain Dew included. My eyes wandered back to my books, still open and waiting for me on the table. I had no desire to go near them again right now, and this was the absolute perfect distraction. I looked back up at the grinning face of my boyfriend.
"Do you need any help?"
Within half an hour, Kol and I's initial experiment had expanded to encompass the entire kitchen and just about every ingredient we had in it. The Mountain Dew pancakes hadn't been much different than the regular pancakes, so we'd gotten progressively more creative in our ingredient substations, snacking on our successes as we went. My books lay long-forgotten on the table, Kol enabling my chaotic science tendencies in the best way possible.
"What if we put pop rocks in it?" asked Kol as he riffled through a drawer of sweet treats in one corner of the kitchen. I hummed to myself as I mixed our latest version, with orange juice instead of water.
"I don't know," I said. "I think we'll just get little pieces of candy in it without the pop, since the liquid in the batter would probably dissolve the candies enough to trigger the reaction before anything else. We won't know for sure unless we test it, though."
I finished stirring, then wandered over to join Kol. He'd set the pop rocks on the table along with a few other types of candies, and now stood in the open door of the fridge. I rested my head on his arm and hummed thoughtfully, until my eyes landed on something else interesting in the fridge.
"Since you've been back in the modern world... has anyone introduced you to the marvel of Coke and Mentos?"
Kol turned to face me, eyebrows furrowed but a smile on his face.
"No love, I can't say they have."
I grinned. "Then I can't wait to be the one to show you."
I snatched the bottle of Coke out of the fridge, snagging the Mentos and a piece of paper with tape too before plopping them both down on the table where we'd been mixing our batter. Excitedly, Kol joined me, wrapping his arms around my waist and resting his chin on my shoulder.
"Okay, so first we need to make the tube to hold the Mentos,  to make sure they all drop in at the same time when we want them to," I explained while I worked. I rolled the paper into a tube, covering one end with my thumb and then holding it out for Kol. "Put seven Mentos in there, please."
He complied, sneaking one for himself and then passing one to me. I looked over my shoulder at him, smiling, and he leaned in to give me a soft kiss.
"What's next, darling?" he asked, his voice low. I leaned back into him a little more, but returned my attention to the Mentos.
"Now, it's time for the reaction. Unscrew the lid of the soda, please." Kol took care of it, shifting a little behind me in anticipation. "Good. Now, I'm gonna dump these in, and after I do we're gonna step all the way back, okay?"
"Okay. And what happens after that?"
I shot him a grin over my shoulder. "Science."
With that, I put the tube of Mentos to the neck of the bottle, then quickly moved my thumb and let them drop all at once into the soda.
Kol's grip tightened on my waist as he used his vampire speed to get me to the far edge of the kitchen, hopefully out of the splash zone. A moment later, the reaction started, and the soda quickly bubbled and fizzed until it became a geyser, exploding out of the bottle. Kol gasped from behind me as it hit the ceiling, and I smiled.
The reaction didn't last very long, but once it fizzled down, it took Kol a minute to let me go and move to meet my eyes. He had a ridiculous grin on his face that I quickly mirrored.
"That was amazing, darling," he said. I practically glowed at the compliment.
"Thanks! It's really cool how it all works, actually. See, carbonated beverages are full of dissolved carbon dioxide gas, which wants to form bubbles and escape the pressure of the liquid. But to do that, it has to break its bonds with the water and interact with itself. Because the Mentos candies are actually covered in a bunch of tiny grooves, it makes it easier for the bonds between the carbon dioxide and the water to break, making the reaction of bubbles escaping the soda happen at a much, much faster rate!"
I'd started pacing a little, gesturing with my hands as I explained, but froze when I realized I'd been rambling for more than a little. I turned back to Kol with a grimace.
"Sorry. I know you probably don't care about how it works-"
"What? No! That was excellent, the way you explained everything!" He grabbed my hands in his as he pointedly met my eyes. "Darling, you're the smartest person I know. And it's absolutely incredible. Please don't ever apologize for the way your eyes light up and your voice gets all excited when you talk about something you love. It's one of my favorite things in the world to see."
I started tearing up a little bit at Kol's words, and as soon as he finished speaking I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him to me, kissing him, hard. He smiled into the kiss and wasted no time wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me tighter to him. Finally, after a few long moments, I pulled gently away.
"As much fun as I'm having... I do need to finish the lab writeup for my actual science class."
Kol sighed and ran a hand through his hair, then fixed me with a devilish grin.
"Fine. As long as you promise to let me know anytime you have an experiment to do that I can sit in on."
I beamed back at him. "I promise."
Kol gave me a sweet smile, then leaned in and kissed me one last time. Despite the homework hovering in the other corner of the kitchen, I could feel Kol sucking me in and distracting me to the point that I didn't care about my work. I was just about to give in, too, when someone coughed loudly from behind us.
Kol and I turned around to find Elijah standing in the kitchen doorway, his eyes scanning the disaster zone the kitchen had turned into. Soda still dripped from the ceiling, and horrifying pancake mutations were spread on almost every surface.
Elijah sighed heavily, his exhausted stare turning back to me and Kol.
"I trust that this will all be cleaned up before the two of you run off to other activities? Preferably sooner than later?" he deadpanned. Kol scoffed, and I tried and failed to fight a guilty grin.
"Yes, Elijah. We'll take care of it," I said. He nodded once, pausing to stare at everything for an extra moment before shaking his head.
"Good."
With that, he turned and walked out of the kitchen. Even without vampire hearing, I heard his heavy, long-suffering sigh from the other room. I turned to Kol and giggled.
"Oops."
"He loves it," Kol said confidently, waving me off. "We keep his life interesting."
"Well, that second part is definitely true. Come on, let's clean up at least a little bit of the mess. We need to do it at some point anyway, and I really do need to go back to my homework."
Kol booed and rolled his eyes, but moved to start helping me deal with the mess anyway. He picked up the now mostly-empty bottle of soda and held it thoughtfully, then turned to me with a glimmer in his eye that I loved.
"You know darling, if we pointed these in a specific direction for the reaction... we could probably shoot the soda at Elijah and the rest of my siblings."
I grinned. "We absolutely could do that."
We stared at each other for a few beats, nodding slowly, communicating without words.
"I'll superspeed cleanup," Kol finally said. I nodded.
"I'll finish my lab writeup as fast as possible."
"And I'll go get more soda and Mentos while you do."
I high-fived Kol as I crossed the room to retake my seat at the kitchen table and he turned into a vampire-tornado of cleaning. We had evil masterplans to enact, after all, and with the two of us working like a well-oiled machine, the rest of Kol's family and anyone else in this house didn't stand a chance.
****************
TVD/TO Taglist: @elenavampire21
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sherlockscumslut · 11 months
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Being Diluc's maid...
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18+ only. No plot at all, fem!reader, Master x maid role-play, soft!dom Diluc, established relationship, use of "Master", pet names [sweetheart], praise, squirting, vaginal fingering, Diluc is a little perv in this, standing position, doggy, spanking (once), creampie, cervix fucking, slight breeding kink (writer is fighting breeding kink allegations and it's not going well help).
Word count: 1413
Outfit inspiration (sfw link)
My AO3
More Genshin Thirst series
A/n: I know I promised Tighnari (since he won the poll with 38%) but have a Diluc instead. I hope you don't feel like you just lost your pity to him lol. Leave Tighnari for some other time.
Likes and/or reblogs are much appreciated 💙
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It's a quiet early morning in Dawn Winery. A place you never imagined you'd be at this hour of the day let alone sleeping on Diluc's king-sized bed. It feels like a dream waking up next to him every single day, so unreal that it makes you laugh about how awkward your relationship was at first. How awkward your first time was but also very passionate.
Feelings that get ignored or suppressed for a long time often lead to self-torture for both parties. On the other hand though, those suppressed feelings can lead to the best sex one can have.
Diluc's side is empty. You fell asleep early last night and didn't get to see what time he came back. Leaving you all by yourself was not of his character but man is busy guarding Mondstadt every night.
As you make your way downstairs in your nightgown, you see Diluc laying awake on the couch in his black robe.
"So here you are...did you sleep on the couch last night?" You asked as you approached him.
"Good morning, Miss. Yes, I slept here last night. Where else should I sleep?"
You shook your head. "What? Why didn't you come to bed? Is everything okay?"
"I don't think you understand Miss. And why don't you wear your uniform?"
His scarlet eyes showed genuine confusion, looking at your nightgown and then back at you.
"My...my uniform?"
"Did you check the closet in your room?"
It took you a moment to understand. He's in a playful mood and you decided to play along.
"I'm sorry, I didn't check. I will be back shortly."
"...Master." He empathized and winked at you.
Your stomach fluttered like the very first kiss. You couldn't believe that he actually slept on the couch for role-play's sake.
You ran upstairs and checked in the closet. Indeed, there was a white paper box with a black ribbon. A maid outfit was inside. "Hmm, so Master Diluc wants to have fun with a maid this time uh?" You thought out loud while putting the outfit on.
On the other side of the room, there was another closet full of costumes that you both wear from time to time to satisfy your fantasies.
Diluc loves that one nun costume he got you but it is not revealing at all. Just a regular nun costume, long and proper as it should be but something snapped in him when he saw you wearing it and acting in the role.
His voice still rings in your ears, praying to the Archons for forgiveness and thanking them at the same time for bringing him such a good proper girl. The memory is enough to arouse you. It's been a while since you put on a costume to satisfy your man.
"I'm back." You said as you approached him.
"You're missing something methinks..." He said without looking at you.
"I'm back, Master." You empathized.
"Come here, let me see you..." He waved his hand.
Diluc couldn't get his eyes off you. It almost felt like he wanted to devour you on the spot but he had planned it all so well and was willing to let himself suffer a little more before touching you.
"I was very sleepy last night and I might have accidentally stained the small carpet under the coffee table over there with grape juice. Mind if you take a closer look?"
"Yes, Master." You said and got on your knees with your thighs exposed and your ass barely covered with a black string.
"I don't think you're looking at the right spot, Miss." Diluc said, trying to keep you in place so he could stare at your ass for a bit longer.
"But Master, the stain is right here...on the edge of the carpet!"
"My fault, I know. I'm sorry if this is tough for you...Let me help you move the coffee table and get this carpet clean."
"No, it's...it's okay, Master. I can do it myself."
You tried to tease him but he was already on his knees behind you, still in his black robe.
"So you don't need my help?" His question sounded so genuine it almost felt like he wasn't just playing.
"Seems like I got myself an ambitious maid..." He continued and drew the black string far up. You flinched at the sensation of it sticking between your ass and pussy lips.
"Aah! Master..."
"Such strong-willed maids need to be rewarded, don't you think?"
His slap on your ass echoed in the room. It was strong enough to leave a red stamp on it and make you wetter than you already were.
"Master...do I really deserve such a reward?"
"Why you ask? You don't believe you're good enough? In that case...spread your legs for me."
His finger slipped inside you with ease and Diluc didn't hesitate to put another one. You felt your legs getting weaker with each movement of his finger inside you, curling and pressing over your sensitive spot.
The wet sounds of your pussy and your soft sighs were testing Diluc's patience who was at his breaking point.
"Hahh...just fuck me already..." You breathed out.
Diluc's fingers let go of your pussy and the view of your hole clenching on nothing sent shivers down his spine. He leaned over your back and kissed you on the lips. A sloppy yet passionate kiss while his hands squeezed your breasts over the fabric of the costume.
"This is your reward for being such a good maid for Master."
He didn't tease. He started to thrust in you slow and steady, feeling your velvet walls sucking his cock in, already to cum in any minute.
Diluc felt you were also close. His one hand was stroking your nipple while the other gently circled your clit.
You squeezed your thighs together and squirted all over his cock, your juices wetting his belly button. The warmth of your squirt and the whimpers that escaped your mouth got Diluc pressing your waist down on his cock, releasing his hot cum deep inside you.
You knew he wasn't done with just one round. Not when he plotted a whole scenario to get you all dress up.
[...]
"Now Miss, could you please clean the bookshelf over there?" He pointed at the other side of the room.
"Yes, Master." You said and got up, freeing yourself from his hands on your hips. Diluc followed you.
He sat on a chair near you, naked under his untied robe. He let his long red hair down and watched as his cum leaked in between your thighs, making him ready for another round.
You minded your business completely unbothered, letting him enjoy his favorite view. Deep down you knew you weren't satisfied either and decided to revive the flame in him.
"Master, I'm afraid I can't reach this spot."
"Hmm? Does my little maid need some help?" He grabbed you by the waist and slightly lift you up.
"Can you reach it now?"
"I think I need to lift me a little more, Master." You bit your lip.
"A little more huh? Well, how about this?"
He grabbed your thighs and lift you up, his nails almost piercing through your soft skin.
Drops of his cum were still leaking out of you as your legs were wide open. You felt his hard cock pressing on your sensitive clit and you whimpered as he teased you by sliding you up and down, your juices and his cum lubricating his cock.
This time he didn't slow down. He moved as fast as he could, trying not to let you fall off his arms. Your hands desperately tried to find something to hold on to. Maybe the books weren't a good idea as they started to fall on each side of the bookshelf due to Diluc's rapid movements.
He could reach so deep in your cervix in that position, making you scream his name as you were close to climax. Diluc had buried his face in your neck, his hair tickled your chin.
"You feel so good, sweetheart. I can't get enough of you...Hmmm...makes me wanna fuck a baby in you so much."
"Diluc!...I mean, Master!! I...ahhh!"
"Answer me, do you want it?"
"Yes, yes, Ma...ster..."
Diluc kissed you on the lips, shooting his seed straight into your womb. Regardless of how much leaked out again, you were happy to know that he thought of starting a family with you.
《 THE END 》
! Do no repost or translate !
Aft* Life is so hard 😭 I wish I was a maid in Dawn Winery so I could serve Diluc everyday and get my holes filled with his kids in return 😓
* Author's final thoughts
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spenzitz · 1 year
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VALENTINE'S DAY (dazai edition)
dazai isn't really into valentines day dazai x gn!reader, pre-relationship,
a/n ~ if you read this, you are now my valentines, ily ( ◜◒◝ )♡ words ~ 1.1K first post for my little valentines bsd 'event' thing (´・ᴗ・`)♡
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dazai isn't really one for holidays. i doubt he keeps track of the days at all. so when valentines day rolls around, he isn't really all that conscience of it. sure, he sees flowers for sale on every corner and heart decorations everywhere, so he knows it's coming, but he doesn't really care when or how soon.
"aren't you going to get y/n anything?" atsushi asks innocently, dragging dazai out of his thoughts. the two were sitting in their regular booth at cafe uzumaki, resting after a long and tedious job. dazai stares absent-mindedly out the window and responds with a bored tone, "and why would I do that?"
atsushi looked at him blankly for a moment before saying, "well, I thought you liked them??" the boy waited eagerly for a response, staring at him, but dazai gave nothing. just a sigh as he turned his attention to his coffee.
"well, maybe you're just friends, and I'm making assumptions, but I don't think people talk about their friends the way you talk about them." atsushi spats, pouting and entirely done with dazai's bull shit.
this grabs dazai's attention. he grins and looks up at atsushi. "would you look at that. we might make a detective out of you yet."
atsushi smiles and lets out a sigh. he's not completely satisfied with the response, but he also has no patience left to push him further.
now that atsushi has given up, dazai decides he has no reason to defend his barely kept secrets. "let's say I did feel a lot for y/n. wouldn't something from me, on valentines day, just seem like a joke to them?" he's smiling at atsushi, but his tone is somber. he genuinely feels like he has no options, atsushi realizes.
when valentines day does roll around, dazai comes in to work fashionably late as he does every morning. he's lightly scolded by kunikida, just like every morning. kunikida starts telling dazai about a job the president wants them to take, but dazai isn't listening. since he strolled in, everything was a blur.
from the outside, dazai looked apathetic and unamused as always. but you saw his eyes change when he saw the envelope on his desk with his full name handwritten.
"Osamu Dazai"
everyone else had to wonder who it was from, but dazai was analytical, he knew your handwriting. he'd sat with you, distracting you from finishing paperwork at least a hundred times.
he takes a seat at his desk across from you, still calm and collected, ignoring kunikida. he opens the envelope and is immediately overcome by a wave of scent. your signature scent. just in case he hadn't caught your handwriting.
it's a handwritten letter, nothing special, just lined paper written on with a scratchy, cheap, ballpoint pen. the same kinds of pens you loved because they were, "reliable, professional but not too pretentious, and you wouldn't be upset if you lost them because they come in packs of 20."
kunikida had stopped his scolding by this point, and atsushi had noticed the handwritten letter, darting his eyes up at you, who seemed to be stealing glances at dazai.
atsushi, now thinking of himself as a wingman, suddenly stands up, grabbing you and kinukida's attention. "h-hey, mr. kunikida! do you think you could help me with the printer?!?" he practically blurts out. "smooth," dazai thinks.
"the printer?" kunikida starts, looking at atsushi confused. "i've already shown you multiple times, and you've done it on your own before, I think you can handle a printer atsu-"
"p-please help me, sir!" atsushi begs, stiffly. kunikida groans and stands up. pushing in his chair, he says, "fine, but this is the last time I'm doing this." atsushi follows kunikida to the printers, very proud of himself, and you try to hold in your chuckles.
pretending to go back to work, you remain aware of dazai as he scans your every stroke on the lined paper.
"Dazai,
I know you don't care much for holidays, so this probably seems silly to you. However, after much teasing from Ranpo and Yosano, I've decided there are a few things I want to tell you.
Simply put, I really enjoy spending time with you. You can be cryptic as hell, but it only makes it all the more satisfying when I put the pieces together.
You've made me look forward to the long nights in the office, finishing up paperwork. It's when you're tired, and you drop just enough of your façade for me to get a glimpse of who you are.
You are thoughtful and intelligent. I really like that about you."
you didn't sign the letter, he notes. not that you needed to, he would know who it's from.
dazai re-folds the paper and fans himself with it, enjoying the fragrance you left on it, wafting it towards his face. he looks directly at you, no side glances, just looks at you.
by this point, you've turned beat red, embarrassed and regretting every word you wrote. your head is turned down, staring intently at the piece of paper on your desk, as if it is going to help you get out of this situation you put yourself in. but dazai is a very impatient man.
"y/n?" he says with a smug tone as he shifts his gaze to the envelope and folds the paper back inside.
"dazai?" you respond nonchalantly. you keep staring at the paper, pretending to read it, but he sees right through you. it takes one look at you for him to conclude that you just wont budge.
"i think i'm simply too tired to work right now," he begins, putting the envelope in his coat jacket, which you don't miss. "care to join me for some morning coffee downstairs?"
you look up at him, still blushing, "actually, maybe you could use some tea? i hear it's good for calming your nerves." he adds with a wide smirk. you hear chuckles from being you, no doubt belonging to ranpo and yosano. was that kenji you heard as well?
"fine! fine!" you say, jolting out of your seat and pushing your chair in frantically. "but you're paying," you add, trying to hold onto any bit of dignity you can.
when you turn around to head to the door, you see practically the whole agency staring back at you with starry eyes and big smiles. all you can do is plant your face in your palms and walk towards the door. dazai swiftly strides in front of you to open the door, and you speed-walk through it, hearing them all burst out into a mix of "aww," "i knew it!" and "I told you so."
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i get carried away with daz, what can i say (˃ᆺ˂✿)
masterlist
requests are open!
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peacesmith · 1 year
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gif not by me!
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ao3 | masterlist
title - he's got a heart of gold
pairing - peter parker (andrew garfield vr.) x male reader
rating - fluff
word count - 966 words
summary - you're a florist, peter is a college student and your number one buyer. you think he has a girlfriend with the amount of flowers he's bought. oh how wrong you were.
notes - i love peter parker, i love andrew garfield, he's my baby girl and i love him <3. also an excuse for me to ramble about flowers cause i love them.
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The small, but loud, chime of the doorbell rings out throughout the compact store. The smell of different arrays of flowers fills the store. It's a smell Peter was always excited to experience.
Peter looks around the arrangement of flowers plastered around the shop. He always wondered where you got such pretty flowers. They were always so fresh whenever he came in.
You don't notice him at first until you saw the male come towards you, you send him a smile and he sends one back.
"Hey Pete! You want to buy some more flowers? The usual?" He shakes his head no before asking,
"I actually wanted to try something different, and maybe add a note to it?" You nod and smile again at him. He's so sweet, trying something different for his girlfriend. Although he never said anything you kind of assumed.
Normally guys don't get flowers for their boyfriends, if they do, they play it off as their girlfriend. At least that's they tell you.
You do wonder if Peter likes men.
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Peter follows you towards a bunch of flowers. You put on some gloves, grab some craft paper and start talking about the flowers.
"So, what's the occasion? It would kind of help when making an arrangement." You look at Peter, he thinks for a minute before responding.
"Well, I'm kind of trying to ask them out on a date. I don't really know how to though other than with flowers." He puts his hands in his front pockets and sway back and forth a bit, his brown orbs fall onto your figure. He gives a small smile.
You tilt your head a bit before picking up a white flower.
"This right here is a Camellia, it symbolizes love, adoration and longing. If you give it to someone, you're practically saying that you've been admiring from afar. Or something like that..." Looking away, you calmly pick a few more and place them gently in the paper. You feel Peter's eyes on you for a moment longer, making your face heat up.
You pick up another white flower, this time a slightly different shape.
"This is a Gardenia; it symbolizes purity and gentleness. But it could also mean secret love. Interpret as you will." While putting some flowers in the arrangement Peter interrupts your train of thought.
"Do you have anything that says, 'I love you'?" Peter starts to blush a bit before looking away. He's so adorable, you think.
"Uh well yeah I could do the classic Rose, but it's a bit overused don't you think? So how about this one?" You hold up a red Tulip, sniffing it before giving it Peter. "It stands for passion and a declaration of love."
You pick up some and start arranging it with the other flowers you picked up. Even though it's not a huge arrangement, it's still very pretty.
Peter sniffs the Tulip, it's probably one of his favorites now.
You and Peter go up to the register to get him settled.
"How much do I owe you?" Peter asks.
"Well normally I would charge you the regular price but since this is about your hundredth time, I'll give you a discount." You tell him the price of the flowers and put other pieces paper in the bouquet for decoration. You pull out a piece of paper and fold it in half before grabbing a pen.
"So, you what do you want it to say?" You get ready to write whatever he needs to say.
He looks up at you before giving an awkward smile, "Something simple like 'Would you like to have dinner with me?' or something like that." He shrugs, his shyness showing through a bit. God you just want to give him a big hug.
He's so adorable, you just wish he was interested in men. I mean he's obviously straight. It's a bit sad if you think about it.
You write on the paper before stapling it on the bouquet and handing it to Peter.
"Thanks man, I hope they like them" He smells them before smiling and heading out. Leaving this small lingering of his presence in the shop.
You nod before getting ready to close the shop.
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You turn the key and put your hands in your pocket, turning around as you start walking to your apartment. Luckily it wasn't so far from shop, at least ten minutes at the most.
"Hey!" You turn your head at the sound of the noise and see Peter jogging towards you with the flowers he got earlier and a box in his hand of some sort.
"Hey Pete, what's up?" He slightly cuts you off by shoving the flowers and box, which you can now see it's clearly some pastry of some sort, into your hands.
Peter smiles at you with a red face, he's flustered.
"Do you remember what you wrote on the letter?" You nod.
"So, what do you say?" Peter replies.
It stuns you for a moment before you realize what he's asking. You look down at the items in your hand while your face heats up.
Stuttering, you manage to give a reply, "Yeah... Yeah! I would love to go out with you Pete!" You nod excessively before letting out a couple of giggles.
He starts to laugh a bit too before telling you to look at the paper on the bouquet. You do as your told.
His number is on the bottom! He gave you, his number!
"Call me and I'll come get you, alright?" You nod again before calming down on your giggling.
"See you later alright?"
"Yeah, see you." You finally manage to speak.
He walks off as you look at the flowers. You definitely have a place in your home to put these.
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