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#but it would also probably feel more wooden. and more like i was trying to appease someone else
imfinereallyy · 14 hours
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I wonder if you look both ways (When you cross my mind)
pt. 1
🐝・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・✦ʚɞ
June 1996, Chicago
Steve doesn’t exactly know when Eddie Munson became one of his best friends, let alone when he fell in love with him.
He supposes both things occurred between the end of the world, and Eddie’s back walking out the door for the last time, unbeknownst to anyone. Though, that is five years of time, who’s to say when it really happened.
Dustin will argue the friend part. He likes to think it was he who brought them together (it certainly wasn’t; in fact, it put a real bump in the road for them). Dustin also thinks, which Steve is more inclined to think is true, that the two of them had become friends during Eddie’s slow recovery and Steve’s guilt complex, which made him feel responsible for him.
Which—ouch, Dustin—but years of therapy would prove him right.
Little shit.
Dustin doesn't know about the love part, though, and Steve doesn’t think much of the party knows except for one or two of the perceptive ones.
Looking at you, Lucas.
Robin likes to argue that Steve doesn’t know when he fell in love with Eddie because Eddie was different from everyone else.
Steve puts everything into love, moves fast, falls hard, and ultimately gets crushed by his own passion. Steve doesn’t know how to take things slow or wait around for the right person.
Until he did, with Eddie.
Steve managed to have a slow decent into the madness of loving a man like Eddie Munson. And he never did anything about it, although he didn't mind. Steve was okay with just being friends and loving from afar.
Until they weren't even that, and Eddie was gone.
Steve can't think about that now, instead he should probably worry about the man himself breaking into his apartment at 3 a.m.
"Get. Out." Robin hisses, breaking Steve from his thoughts.
Suddenly, Eddie stands. His hands thrust forward in a placating nature, and nervous energy radiates off of him. "Robin, please—"
"No, Munson. You don't get to disappear from our lives for five years, and then break into our apartment!" Robin whisper shouts, the metal bat waving around in her grip.
Steve still hasn't said anything, still unsure of any of it is really happening. But he can't help but warm at Robin's fierceness.
She will go down swinging for Steve, even against someone she cares about.
Fuck, he loved her.
"Give me one good reason not to bash your skull in with this thing, Munson. I dare you!" Robin took the metal bat and pushed it into Eddie's chest.
Steve gets a good look at him as he stumbles backward. He doesn't look much different—well that's a lie. He does look different; more tattoos, more piercings and Steve is pretty surprised to catch him wearing anything other than a band tee. It is just so all quintessentially Eddie. The jewelry is all silver, any tattoo he got after 1986 appears to be in black and red ink only. Even his tee is still black despite the lack of a band on the front.
"Birdie, I don't think you should have Steve's bat in your hands, you're a bit dangerous." Eddie tries to grab the bat from her hands but Robin yanks it back.
"Oh, fuck you, Munson! You don't get to call me Birdie, and this is my bat. Steve's is wooden and full of nails and underneath his bed. You should know that, or has the last five years really rotted your brain?" Robin is now waving the bat around with gusto, nearly missing Steve's head at one point.
Trying to shake himself from his frozen state, Steve decides it is probably in everyone's best interest if he steps in.
"Robs." Steve speaks gently, hand on the bat as he slowly lowers it down. Her shoulders drop, the fight draining out of her in seconds. "It's okay."
It's not okay. Steve doesn't understand what's happening right now. But Steve is okay as long as he has Robin, and Robin has him. Steve hopes she understands that's what he meant.
Robin nods her head, and shuffles closer to him.
Steve takes a shaky breath, "What are you doing here, Munson?"
Eddie cringes at the use of his last name but doesn't comment. "Listen, I know it's weird me just stopping by suddenly—"
Robin snorts, "I wouldn't exactly call breaking in 'stopping by'."
Eddie shakes his head, ignoring her. Stray curls start to fall loose from their bun. "I just want to talk, for you guys to hear me out."
Steve rubs a hand down his face, he is getting too old for this stuff. Being blindsided, being surprised—being thrown sideways and upside down. Sure, twenty-nine isn't exactly old, but Steve has lived practically six different lifetimes by now. There is so much damage to him—physically and emotionally. He is supposed to be past nonsense like this.
Robin takes his silence as permission to snip at Eddie, "No. Go away, Eddie. You don't get to do that. Get out."
Eddie moves a step forward, he is now illuminated completely by the side table's light. He looks tired—good but tired. It's not the kind of tired you see of someone in distress, not the ache that comes along in the tunnel that has no light in the end. No, Eddie looks tired in the way that comes with healing. Like working hard exhaustion. As if coming home from a long but good day at work, and the night grows weary.
Eddie opens his mouth to argue, but Steve cuts him off. "It's fine, Robbie. It's late; let him crash on the couch."
Eddie's shoulders sag in relief, "Thanks, Stevie, we can talk—"
"No." Steve chokes out, moving his hand towards his throat so he can remember to breathe. "You don't get to call me that. And we're not talking about anything. You'll sleep here, but that's it. I might not want you here, but it doesn't mean I'm going to let you wander the streets at night."
"Steve, please—" Eddie reaches out his hands to touch Steve. It is most likely going to be a gentle touch, but Steve can't help the way he violently flinches.
Eddie looks taken aback, eyes wide and full of sadness. He pulls his hands back.
"No, Eddie." Steve grabs Robin's hand and starts to pull her to bed. She doesn't protest and instead leans into his touch. Steve turns over his shoulder to look at Eddie again. "You'll stay the night. It's not an option. But my morning? I want you gone. I don't want you to be the first thing I see after sunrise."
Steve turns quickly back around, ignoring the pained grunt from behind him.
Bypassing Robin's bedroom, Steve pulls them both into his. Robin doesn't question it and instead makes herself comfortable in his forest green blankets.
Steve quickly follows after, snuggling into the bed beside her. People have thought them weird over the years—always in each other's spaces and knowing every little thing about each other. Partners, friends, family—all of them had something to say about it, never even bothering to understand.
Well, except Eddie. Eddie appreciated it, accepted it. Adored it at times.
"Are you really okay with this, Dingus?" Robin whispers softly between them.
"No." Steve never lies to Robin; she'll know. "Not at all, but I'm not going to let him wander the streets, no matter what I loved him at some point. I don't let the people I loved, get hurt."
Robin squints in pity, "Loved?"
"Not now, Bobbie," Steve whispers.
Robin nods, "Besides, I'm pretty sure 'Ed Sloane' can afford a fucking hotel room."
Steve lets out a loud snort, it echoes throughout the room. "God, don't remind me. What a stupid fucking name."
The two of them dissolve into giggles, bumping their heads together. Under the covers, they clasp their hands together tight. "I just don't want you to derail your life, for someone who walked so easily out of it. I know you have that important lunch with Drew tomorrow."
Steve takes a breathe through his nose, "Yea, I do. But it'll be fine. He'll be gone before I'm even up. You know Eds, he's a runner. Wouldn't stop trying to prove it, in fact."
Robin's face is scrunched in pain, and her eyes pool with pity. It's as if she knows something Steve doesn't or sees something he chooses to ignore. She doesn't comment on it, though. Instead, she raises an eyebrow, "Eds?"
It isn't snippy or accusing. Her voice is soft against his cheek. Steve doesn't have the mental capacity to argue though. "G'night, Birdie."
"Goodnight, Stevie." She whispers.
Steve closes his eyes, knowing it will all feel like a dream tomorrow.
Steve is familiar with having dreams with Eddie in them.
🐝・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・✦ʚɞ
more to come i promise, especially after your (loving demands). especially my mutuals who yelled at me in the tags and my dm's (it made my day).Part 3 is currently being typed up. Also might fuck around and make this a full-blown ao3 one shot; who knows.
tag list!:
@stevesbipanic @withacapitalp @emryyyyy09 @brainfugk @blueberrylemontea-fanfic
@slv-333 @thetinymm @connected-dots-st-reblogger @helpimstuckposting @dreamercec
@goodolefashionedloverboi @stripey82 @little2nerdy @anne-bennett-cosplayer @resident-gay-bitch
@ghostquer @sourw0lfs @devondespresso
(please let me know if you don't want a tag, I had to guess by the comments, and sorry if you’re getting a random tag after posting, I had to fix the tag list cause tumblr is weird)
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sttoru · 3 months
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·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐏𝐍𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐒. love; you wonder if the king of curses is capable of feeling that emotion too. so, you take on a more direct approach to ask him.
word count. 1.7k
note. sukuna brainrot sorry. . .
tags. true form!sukuna x female reader. angst (+ comfort) / fluff. size difference mentions. eh sukuna’s a bit mean. established relationship, but you’re like v early into the relationship.
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it was a calm sunday evening. both sukuna and you had fulfilled your duties for the day. all you needed after working hard was the presence of the person you admire most. thus, you had made your way over to sukuna’s chambers. to your surprise, you already found him sitting on the engawa which led to the connected backyard.
sukuna noticed your presence, but didn't utter a word. he simply shot you a glance before continuing to stare into the distance. he seemed to be in deep thought about something. you didn’t want to bother him when he was like this, but the voice in your head told you to stay.
you silently kneel next to him and gather your hands in your lap. your eyes automatically move to focus on sukuna again. two of his hands are supporting his weight as they rest flat on the wooden surface. the other set rests limply on his thigh.
your gaze falls on his bottom left hand. the one he uses to kill, but also the one he uses to hold and caress you. you could easily recall its feel without having to touch him; rough, callused and warm. you reach your hand out towards his without hesitation.
sukuna’s eyes dart over to your small stature next to him. he allows you to grab his hand, to pull it over to your lap and let it rest palm up on your thighs. it’s almost funny. how big his hand is in comparison to yours.
the comfortable silence continues. the rustles of the leaves and the water movements in the koi pond in the yard are soothing to the soul. your finger traces the lines on sukuna’s palm, following them until they end before switching to the other.
the king of curses watches you play around with his hand. still with that stoic expression on his face. however, feeling your delicate touch on his skin and seeing you smile to yourself for whatever reason makes the corners of his lips curl up. for a split second.
a faint, amused grin. you sure are an interesting creature in his eyes.
“sukuna, can i ask you something?” you break the silence with a question. there is an unknown feeling in your chest; one that makes you restless at night. your smile slowly drops into a small pout when you think about what you want to ask him.
not a single action goes unnoticed by the man next to you. he lifts an eyebrow, but other than that, there’s no reaction visible. he answers you with a hum of approval, “mmh.”
you lift your head and look up at him. sukuna was already staring right at you—his piercing eyes catch your soft ones. he squints. there is something wrong with the way you are looking at him. normally, the smile you give him would reach your eyes. now it doesn’t.
that same smile completely disappears over time.
“do you.. are you..” you stammer. you don't know how to articulate your question. it’s probably dumb. to both you and him. sukuna watches you struggle to ask him whatever is on your mind. he firmly grabs your wrist and squeezes it. not too hard. he doesn't want to inflict any unneccesary pain.
sukuna sighs. a heavy sigh. one thing he dislikes is when you leave him in the dark. it isn’t the first time you did so during the past week. asking him if you could ask him a question and when he grants you the permission to, you back down or change topics.
it’s getting tiresome.
“spit it out.” sukuna grumbles. he pulls your body closer to his by your wrist, your arm stretched upwards with your hand hovering near the side of his face. his breath hits your wrist, causing goosebumps to form on your skin.
crimson orbs stare right into your soul. you gulp and feel your body warm up. when you try to avert your gaze, one of sukuna's free hands grabs you by the jaw and steers your head to face him. his thumb presses down on your chin. he’s not letting it go today. he needs answers.
before sukuna could add to his words, you breathe in sharply. like you’re ready to ask him what had been weighing on your mind ever since a couple days back. oh, stupid it sure is. you know. you’re probably making it too big of a deal. when it isn’t. not in the slightest.
your eyes water. you blink the tears away. you don’t want to embarrass yourself any further by sobbing. your bottom lip trembles as you finally muster up the courage;
“do you love me?”
there it goes. you try to squirm away from sukuna’s grasp after that. you feel flustered. embarrassed. you just want to crawl into a hole and rot.
sukuna does not tighten his grip on you. instead, he loosens them. your wrist slips from his hand. your chin no longer restricted by his fingers. he lets you go.
a painful sting in your heart. you secretly hoped that he’d resist. pull you closer maybe. you don’t know why you expected that. you learnt not to get your hopes up around him and yet you always wish for him to do something.
a silence falls between the two of you again. you act like you didn’t ask him anything. you try to ignore the way sukuna clenched his jaw. how he subtly clicked his tongue. how he let you shuffle away from him.
you clear your throat. with hesistance this time, you gently grab one of sukuna’s hands again. that he allows you. you appreciate that. at least it means he isn’t completely upset. you know sukuna does not allow just anyone to touch him so without permission.
you hold tightly onto his hand like it’s your last hope. his fingers don’t close around yours, though. you don’t mind.
“what a foolish question.” sukuna scoffs and looks the other way. his voice was hoarse. probably from not speaking for quite what time. you silently nod. an expected answer, at last.
you stay silent after that. it hurts. more than you want it to have hurt. maybe it was too early into your relationship to ask such a question. you got into it, knowing fully well how harsh the man next to you could be sometimes.
what you can’t deny is that soft spot sukuna has for you. you see it. uraume sees it. the maids see it. sukuna probably.. knows of it, but doesn’t speak on it. he does not speak up about his feelings much anyway.
but it’s visible in his actions. the king of curses allows you to say and do whatever you want around him. he makes sure his subordinates treat you well. he looks at you with a hint of softness hidden in those red eyes. when he touches you, it’s firm but gentle. like he desperately craves to touch you, though knows not to make that yearning accidentally hurt you in any way.
the latter is what you love most about his soft spot for you. sukuna handles you with utmost care. even uraume had told you that it surprises them greatly whenever they witness the way their master treats you in general.
especially at night. you can’t count the amount of times you quite literally melted into his arms. those four, beefy arms that know just how to make you feel protected. you never sleep in unease. you know that nothing could hurt you when you’re laying against his chest.
sukuna’s actions speak volumes. despite all of that, you wish he’d at least tell you with his words. how much you mean to him.
“my apologies.” you give up. for today, you’ll let him be. the slight irritation in his voice earlier nearly made you cry. he needs more time and you’ll give him that. you slowly detach your small hand from his big, warm one, “i won’t ask you that again.”
sukuna frowns and grumbles something under his breath. you think it’s still because of your previous question, yet his gaze tells a different story. he narrows his eyes as he glares down at his now empty hand. you connect the dots once you see the man take a glimpse at your hand on your lap.
your touch. the sudden abscence of your touch.
“i didn’t say you could do that.” sukuna murmurs. his tone low and maybe even upset to a certain degree. you blink a few times and freeze on spot. the king of curses starts to get grumpy the longer you fail to take the hint.
he kisses his teeth out of impatience. sukuna tightly gets ahold of your hand again and softly yanks it towards him. you squeal as your body stumbles closer to his.
sukuna holds eye contact with you as he brings your hand to his mouth. his tongue wets a spot on your palm—specifically the area that connects your thumb with your wrist. your lips part, your tummy doing flips from the sudden touch.
“don’t let go again,” he bares his teeth before slightly sinking them into the soft flesh. it isn’t a hard bite. more a nibble that leaves a faint mark. what you didn’t expect was for sukuna to kiss that same place after marking it. his thumb runs over that exact spot as well, “got that?”
you nod. you’re unable to refuse him. those feelings of disappointment from earlier long forgotten. you intertwine your fingers with sukuna’s and unlike the previous instant, his fingers do curl back around yours. your skin is still tingling from the feeling of sukuna’s kiss.
the king of curses keeps your entwined hands on his lap this time. he stares off into the distance for a couple seconds before returning his gaze to you. he scans your face and finds what he had been missing;
that tender smile of yours. it was back, tugging at your lips. one of your fingers resumes its soothing motion on his rough skin again. sukuna’s face relaxes. his jaw unclenches.
“good.” sukuna nods at the sight. he turns to watch the night sky again—secretly (yet not so secretly) enjoying this moment of peace.
you’re content with how that ended. and, you’re sure that you don’t mind if it takes days, weeks or even months for your relationship to fully blossom. when you’re with sukuna, one thing is clear: actions do speak louder than words.
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justporo · 6 months
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Who's the goose... (2)
...that's on the loose? GOOSETARION! The adventures of Astarion being turned into a goose continue. Will he behave or annoy someone so much that his delicate goose neck will be in danger?
PART 1 | MASTERLIST | AO3
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Author's Note: So, here we are... with the second part to this unhinged little idea - I had a lot of fun writing this, although if I gotta write someone honking one more time... Well, I'd do it... This beautiful BEAUTIFUL artwork is once provided by the wonderful, beautiful and incredibly talented @azaani-art (you bless us, love! Thank you for allowing me to use this!). And also @the-littlest-raindrop - if you wanna read you'll know why I tagged you! Please all enjoy! I'm excited to hear what you all think!
Pairing: Goosetarion(Astarion)/GN!Tav (You)
Rating: Still stupid
Warnings: ankles in danger (you guys didn't think I'd be serious about this, right?)
Wordcount: 5k
~~~
The next morning the whole group sat around the giant wooden table in the main room of the inn. You were pretty sure you looked like you had slept in the gutter last night.
Beside you sat the goose, craning its neck at everyone at the table but for once pleasantly un-hoking. Even Goosetarion must have realised that honking the house down at this time of day would have probably gotten him his neck wrung faster than he could have jumped off the bench and waddled away. Or maybe it was lingering humiliation from when he had tried several times to jump up on the bench, fluttering his wings as if desperately trying to take flight. It had taken several more tries – and serious hissing from his side to bar you from just lifting him up onto the bench. And even when the goose had managed to get a high enough jump, it had face-planted onto the table nearly knocking itself out because it hadn’t anticipated the physics of the unfamiliarly long neck.
The others had to make a serious effort to not burst out laughing, but the violent threat in Goosetarion’s red eyes had shut them up quickly. Nobody really wanted to feel the goose’s wrath – or teeth for that matter.
Now you softly and absent-mindedly petted the animal with strokes from its head down to its back. Trying to make up for his hurting ego. The rump was very busy wiggling again.
You hadn’t slept awfully much last night as could have been expected. Of course, you had taken Goosetarion to your shared room. The staff at the inn had at first protested. But the fact that the others had quickly jumped in to declare the animal your “emotional support goose” and the fact that you really almost had started crying right then and there had been convincing enough to allow the goose in your room. Although you were of course given some serious side-eyes. But you couldn’t care less about people’s opinions at the moment.
You had sat down Astarion in your room, removed your armour and had sat down on the bed, sinking down against the headboard, face buried in your hands. Your feelings had still been very much on the verge of overflowing leaving you in a state of emptiness and tension all at the same time.
Only when you had heard some rumbling and strained croaks did you realise that you kind of had forgotten Goosetarion. But when you had opened your eyes, you already saw how the goose was hopping up on the bedframe and dragging itself up on the mattress with its wings, making what would have possibly been laborious groans normally. It wasn’t exactly graceful, but you were impressed, nonetheless.
Astarion wandered over to where you sat with drawn up legs and then jumped onto your lap without hesitation. Some struggle followed in which the two of you tried to get comfortable on the bed. Which resulted in you getting whacked in the face by Goosetarion’s splayed wings several times and him face-planting onto your chest about an equal amount of times while trying to move around, losing balance.
Finally, when you had all settled down, Goosetarion had been all cosied up on your lap and made a small honk while looking at you.
You had started stroking him again.
“I’m so sorry this happened, Astarion, but to be honest, you really had it coming.”
“Honk!?”
“Because you don’t just go around trying to steal from anyone who looks at you funny!”
“Honk!”
“Let’s just… hope this will all be over soon. I promise I’ll protect you and take care of you – no matter what.” You had embraced the goose, burying your face in its feathers for a moment and deeply wished that soon it would be your vampire again.
Goosetarion had carefully placed his small head on your shoulder and given a very soft little honk. The weight on your shoulder had been so light it had barely been noticeable at all.
And that is how you had slipped into your dreams sometime: Sitting up against the headboard, goose on your lap. Your head had fallen back in an awkward angle that probably hadn’t been healthy for your neck. And the goose had been mirroring you with its long neck and head fallen back on your shoulder. Surely a sleeping position no real goose had ever occupied.
But now you sat at the inn table having breakfast and talked with the others about what your plans for the day were. It was to be more walking and talking to people.
You were rather relieved because that meant that you wouldn’t have to think too much about how to take care of the goose. You’d just have him tag along and try your best to stop him from biting anyone’s ankles or getting his neck twisted.
The group set off once everyone had finished eating. You swung your legs over and got up. Astarion eagerly jumped down from the bench and honked at you demandingly, immediately earning a hush from Gale and a tchk from Lae’zel. The goose wasn’t bothered by it, just kept looking at you, now spreading its wings a little. He honked again. It was obvious he wanted to be carried and was very demanding about it.
“Is that your definition of asking nicely to be lifted up? Because if yes, you need to work on your attitude”, you scolded him while deep down you were surprised how the vampire so blatantly dared to hold on to his desire to be petty and sassy.
Another honk – challenging now. The goose glowered at you, for lack of a better description, and you glowered back.
Then you just walked off, following the others which had already left the inn. And you were swift. Leaving no choice to the goose but having to waddle behind you as fast as his rubbery feet would go or risk being left behind.
You gave in pretty quickly afterwards. And if only because Lae’zel was almost already losing her mind about how slow you were going to be with the goose walking beside you.
Goosetarion willingly and humbly let himself be lifted and carried around then without another complaint. Actually, you got the feeling he was getting a bit too used to that already.
“Enjoying the luxury of being carried around by your loved one, Astarion?”, Halsin asked the goose a while after you had left the inn and walked around the city. Goosetarion had stretched out his head and looked at his surroundings curiously and cautiously from his privileged position.
At the question the goose’s head – which was comically staying in place despite the walking movements – had swung around and the question had been answered with a short honk that you could only describe as sassy. Then Goosetarion had angled his head in a way that was way too much Astarion in nature than should have been possible. The druid laughed while you saw that Gale shook his head disapprovingly.
You squeezed the goose just a little: “Well, don’t get used to it, Astarion, this is a once in a lifetime occurrence.”
In reply you got a honk that sounded like a pout.
The first half of the day then was spent just like yesterday: tiresomely walking around, trying to strike up conversations with strangers to get some information without being too suspicious. Which was kind of a challenge when you were carrying around a goose that had to comment on almost everything despite no one fully knowing what it wanted to say.
Around noon you decided to take a break. You picked out what seemed to be a market place in full swing and settled down around the fountain in the middle. Each and every one of you had grabbed something from the market stalls to eat – pies, fruit, Karlach had even gone for a portion of spit roast.
At one of the stalls a huge-bellied man in a very grimy apron had way to keenly asked for how much you would sell the goose. Goosetarion’s head had yanked straight upwards, and he had immediately started to scream bloody murder (in goose) while you had turned him away in your arms – away from this shady looking merchant. Panic immediately had shot through you and your eyes had widened as you yanked the goose away and as far out of reach as possible.
“The goose is not for sale”, you had screamed hysterically in response.
“Unfortunate, how much good does it do if you’re only carrying it around? You all a bunch of leaf-eaters or what? This could be a nice dinner for my whole family!”, the man had yapped, obviously angry by your unwillingness to negotiate. You’d had your doubts about the family claim. Especially since you had seen the very suspicious looking dishes he seemingly had had to offer at his stall. They had all looked rank and the longer you’d stood there you’d also smelled their foulness. You hadn’t even dared to think about how old these must be.
“Istik, the bird is not for sale!”, Lae’zel had entered the conversation and drawn a dagger, taking a threatening step towards the huge man.
The other companions each all had taken up readied stances too – hands not too casually wandering to their weapons and stepping in front of you and Goosetarion in protection.
And thankfully, it had been left at that. The man lifting up his hands in defence as he had mumbled something incoherent and turned around again. Astarion had honked once more in victory (as if he had contributed to anything) and waved his head that would have normally swept his white curls back. As a goose it had just looked a bit delusional.
Now you sat on the cobblestone ground with Goosetarion on your lap. You had already gotten into a routine it seemed, it was awkwardly comforting. But somewhen when you were still nibbling on some apples and cheese, the goose wiggled off your lap. It seemed he was bored by just sitting around. Or maybe it was also that all of the group happily munching away had made him think of his own hunger that he was currently unable to satisfy.
He eyed the rim of the fountain suspiciously while everyone was busy chatting and eating. Only out of the corner of your eye did you see how he spread out his wings, his neck stretched out and started swinging – almost like a cat preparing to make a big leap somewhere.
Was he… was he trying to fly?
The goose made a leap, desperately flapped its wings and just for a tiny moment actually seemed to gain some air. But the moment passed as soon as it began and Goosetarion full on crashed into Lae’zel who had just gotten back from also buying a portion of spitroast. The githyanki had only just sat down when the goose fell onto her, almost causing her to drop her food.
Lae’zel immediately had her dagger out that - not so long ago- had been used to protect the same goose it was threatening now. The githyanki cussed out the animal that darted back to the safety of your lap much faster than you could have imagined. With desperate honking the goose jumped on your lap and tried to even climb up onto your shoulders. Lae’zel was still cursing and stepping closer, dagger in hand.
“Astarion! Lae’zel!”, you both called them out.
Goosetarion gave self-righteous honk while the fighter reluctantly sheathed her dagger again and went back to her lunch.
“And you are getting off my godsdamned shoulders, you silly goose, you’re too heavy!”, you added with some anger as Goosetarion was just about to figure out an even more privileged position. You shoved him off, causing him to croak in disappointment. And you made a point to ignore the annoying goose for some time after that, joining the conversation of the others – parenting measures.
So, Goosetarion got bored again with simply sitting around, waiting for you lot to get going again. He started to waddle around you and the other companions – as if he was deep in thought and tried to sort them out by wandering back and forth.
At one point a small child came by and interrupted him by pointing at him, loudly screaming “DUCKY” and then toddled away again. Goosetarion looked taken aback, honked in confusion and annoyance and then went back to his wandering.
Jaheira and you were discussing an action plan as to where to go next since you had the most knowledge of the city. Actually, Astarion would probably have had valuable input. But getting that input across was a bit difficult at the moment. He tried nonetheless.
The goose loudly honked when Jaheira proposed something and shook his head in a comical way then started to flail around his wings. The flailing and honking really did nothing though to get his point across. When Goosetarion noticed that you were all just staring at him in confusion he even looked like he was attempting to perform a face-palm. Then he gave up with another defeated honk.
The small child from before chose this particular moment when everyone was still staring at the goose to return. It was carrying quite a large piece of bread and from a few feet away hurled it at Goosetarion whose back was towards the child. “FOR DUCKY!”, it screamed while putting all its power into the throw.
Apparently at this young age the child was not yet very proficient with improvised throwing weapons because the throw went absolutely awry. Or rather, the child was in fact a prodigy because the piece of bread hit the goose squarely in the back of its head, making it squeak and lose balance.
The kid just laughed giddily and clapped its hands, hopping up and down. Obviously, it was expecting the “duck” to happily devour the generous offering of food now.
Goosetarion regained his balance quickly and turned around. He was dangerously silent.
You immediately felt the tension radiating from the small body, so you carefully got up. To be ready for whatever.
The goose stared down the child who was still jumping around cheerfully. But the longer “DUCKY” just stared at it, not moving, just with a lot of fury in its tiny red eyes, it realised that something was wrong. The kid calmed down until it looked downright frightened. You saw the child’s bottom lip starting to wobble, ready to start crying at any moment.
And then Goosetarion stormed towards the child, big wings spread wide, neck stretched out as far as possible and screaming as loud as his lungs allowed.
The kid started screaming as well and desperately tried to run away, almost stumbling over its own feet in the attempt to not get assaulted by the vicious goose.
You rushed after the murderous animal, trying to get to it before it could brutalise the child’s ankles. And thankfully Astarion was still not very adept to running around as a goose and you could easily catch up to him and grab him.
He desperately flapped his wings trying to free himself from your arms while still honking like mad. Your ears almost immediately started ringing. Incredible how much anger could fit into such a tiny body.
The child was already long gone and probably traumatised for life by this oversized duck trying to hunt it down. But Goosetarion was still livid even when you picked him up while holding him as far away from you as possible to avoid getting whacked by him again.
“Astarion, will you calm the fuck down?”, you yelled in between angry honking. You yourself were getting more than just annoyed by his behaviour – first he got himself into this pickle and now he caused even more chaos instead of sitting it out. There definitely was something to be said about the chaotic nature of geese and the vampire rogue fitting very well together.
The rest of the group had been watching the scene. Gale had his face buried in his hands. Most of the rest was at least silently snickering while Karlach was just very openly losing it again.
You sat the angry goose down on the stone rim of the fountain in an attempt to force him to calm down. “Time out, Astarion, godsdammit! Either you behave or I might be thinking about selling your poultry ass off, yet!”, you gave him the ultimatum and pointed a finger at him angrily.
He tried to snap at it. You could barely believe the audacity.
“For someone with so much neck to wrangle at the moment you should really be careful about who you piss off, Astarion”, Wyll said who was casually leaning against the fountain.
The goose stared at him. But Wyll just shrugged.
“Are we going to be nice now?”, you asked Goosetarion. The gaze of the red button eyes wandered back to you. The goose gave one more, curt honk, then settled down in a manner that made you think it would have crossed its wings over its chest in annoyed defeat had it been able to do so.
You stared at him angrily for a moment longer then went back to eating your scrawny lunch and talking with the others. You kept talking about different possible ideas on how to go forward. The goose meanwhile was brooding while sitting on the rim of the round fountain.
After a while, it seemed Goosetarion had enough of being well behaved and only listening while not being able to throw in his snide comments. He hopped off the fountain wall, specifically choosing Gale’s lap as a landing pad and making the wizard wince while the goose jumped off him and sauntered away.
He wandered around a little and honked dismissively when you told him to not to go too far. But for the moment you were already so fed up with him you really couldn’t care less.
The group finished up their lunch and decided on their plan. Then you all packed up your things and were ready to leave. And only then did you notice that the goose was nowhere to be found.
“Astarion?”, you asked and looked around. Some of the others had already started walking again.
“Was he not just wandering off towards some of the market stalls?”, Halsin asked. You simply nodded as you started looking around with rising panic.
“Yes, but I… I mean he wouldn’t have just left, right?”, you said as you ran from side to side and hoped to spot a feisty goose somewhere. You screamed his name again in hopes to get a honk in response. But nothing.
“You don’t think he would have wandered off just to spite us, right?”, you asked Halsin again. The druid in the meantime had shouted to the others to stop and come back.
“As much as I think that he likes to get on people’s nerves deliberately… I don’t think he would walk off and jeopardize his own safety – so no”, Shadowheart replied as she came back and caught on to what was happening.
“Well, then where could the little rascal have gone?”, Karlach asked in response.
A thought raced through your mind when she said that, and it hit you as you looked at Karlach.
“The suspicious merchant!”, you exclaimed and panic reached new heights within you.
“Let me just”, Gale started when he connected the dots and immediately started murmuring an incantation. Meanwhile the group had reassembled at the fountain and quickly was informed about what was happening. You stared at the wizard as he had gone silent and impatiently awaited the result of whatever it was he was doing.
The wizard’s eyes had lit up and he was focusing. Then his eyes flashed back to normal, his eyes found yours, worry flashing in them: “I feel him, he’s moving – quickly. And I’m pretty sure that is not goose speed.”
Your eyes widened when Gale confirmed your suspicion. You looked around at the others who mirrored your expression and without out a word you all readied to take on the pursuit.
“This way”, the wizard exclaimed with an outstretched arm, and you all started running.
You ran through the market and then through the streets of Baldur’s Gate, following whatever direction Gale gave you who was quickly out of breath but did his best to carry on.
You were already almost back at Wyrm’s Crossing – the houses a lot smaller and simpler here than the townhouses in the core city. And surely after a few minutes you could make out desperate honking somewhere in front of you. You closed in on the goose-napper!
When it seemed, you were only a corner away you already reached for your dagger – ready to do whatever it might take - but Wyll grabbed your hand. “Let’s be clever about this, let’s not risk that delicate goose neck being broken”, he said to you with a sympathetic glance. Reluctantly, you put back your dagger, at least for the time being.
You peeked around the corner and sure as all Nine Hells you saw the full-bellied man from earlier with a wiggling, struggling and screaming goose under his arms turn another corner. From there on out you followed the villain with some distance to avoid him noticing your little rescue party.
You followed him up to a little free-standing wooden house. It was old and shabby and made you further suspicious of him. What kind of shady business could someone possibly be up to in there?
You saw how he was putting some stuff down in front of the porch of the house, then went inside with the screaming animal still under his arm.
Again, you were ready to just go and immediately tear this house down. You were almost blind with your fear and worry for Astarion and with white-hot rage. But again, Wyll grabbed your arm and made a motion that conveyed that you should walk around the house.
Very impatiently you nodded, and you all snuck around the house which was barely a step up from a shack. From the inside you could actually hear the excessive honking of the goose now. Your heart almost broke and your body was tense with rash panic.
On the rear side of the house was a scruff garden fenced in by a rundown fence and a small wooden stump. It was almost an insult to even call it a garden; it was more of an abandoned plot.
It looked like the stump there was used for chopping wood. An axe was planted in the ground beside it. But there were also dark stains on it that could only make you horridly guess what else might be chopped there.
Wyll – taking over the role as tactician right then and there – made you wait while you were almost ready to scale a wall. At least by the excessive continued honking you still knew that Goosetarion was alive.
Wyll’s patience and insistence paid off because after mere minutes, the man came out of the house again, carrying the goose, some stuff in a basket hanging from his arm and of course – a ginormous cleaver.
Your heart dropped and the goose too now looked just very scared and helpless with how it hung from the goose-napper’s arm. Head hanging low, seemingly having given up all hope of being saved. You drew an arrow and readied at on your bow as Wyll waved the others to get in position.
The man slammed the cleaver into the wooden block and then with both hands placed down the goose on its back. The animal was barely even struggling anymore, just fearfully squeaking and noticing that almost broke your heart completely in these frightful moments.
The villain then ripped out the cleaver from the wooden stump and lifted it up high. You could see the sunlight glint on the shabby silver.
Wyll was still motioning everyone to hold but your strings snapped.
“GET AWAY FROM THE GOOSE!”, you screamed at full lung capacity while loosening the arrow from your bow string simultaneously.
The man hesitated and had only started to turn to you as the arrow struck him squarely in the shoulder holding the cleaver.
He immediately dropped the lifted knife with a guttural scream, letting it fall. It land on the wooden stump again – missing the goose’s head by mere inches. You only saw how the goose’s head dropped back with a small relieved honk, almost as if it had fainted shortly because of the shock.
Then absolute chaos broke out.
You all rushed towards the man who was screaming in pain and was already pulling at the arrow in his shoulder. Your eyes were solely on the goose but then Halsin, Karlach and most of the others overtook you and you lost sight of the animal as your friends stormed onto the man.
Coincidentally, some other shady looking folk came out of the back of the house, alarmed by the commotion. Your suspicions and gut feeling were confirmed then. You didn’t need to know anymore at this point, you had no mercy in your bones for them in this moment.
The thugs engaged your group in combat. In the meantime, you were desperately trying to spot the goose while your friends easily managed to keep the enemies in check.
Finally, you spotted Goosetarion! He had jumped off the wooden stump and seemingly had gotten into the basket the man had been carrying. And obviously the basket had contained some more knives because the goose was now firmly holding one in his beak. Astarion certainly had gotten out of his stupor and was now flailing his wings and threatened everyone with the blade he was carrying – everyone’s ankles were definitely in grave danger. Almost no difference from the usual rogue.
Your group easily fought off the thugs as you sneaked through the chaos of the battle towards the goose to grab and secure it. When the goose saw you, it hopped happily and dropped the knife to honk joyfully at you. You rushed over, kneeled down and wrapped him in your arms as he kept honking and jumping – obviously very relieved that you came to his rescue.
The fight was very quickly turning to your favour. But then as you kept holding onto the poor little animal you heard something else. You couldn’t quite discern it at first, but you heard loud screaming. And as you tried to peek through the legs of everyone around you, you saw some people in armour coming closer.
“City watch”, you whispered to yourself. Goosetarion’s head swung around as well and he gave another honk as he saw what you saw.
“CITY WATCH”, you yelled louder so everyone would hear.
That made almost everyone stall. You quickly got up and wildly gestured at your friends to just get going. So they did – and the fight turned into running from city guards way quicker than you thought it possible.
You didn’t even take one look back at the assailants and the goose-napper. You were just completely happy with running away with your goose soulmate safely in your arms. The adrenaline of the fight and the panic before almost awarding you wings. The only reason you took a look back was to make sure that all of your group were safely with you.
When you had brought what you thought was a safe distance between you and your pursuers, you just sank to the ground with Goosetarion wrapped securely in your arms. You nuzzled your face into his feathers and started crying.
The last day had literally been too much for you. You were in desperate need of a break and some strong alcohol. Someone put their hand on your shoulder as you cried into Astarion’s feathering. You softly slid down against the rough brick wall you were leaning against until you were laying on your back, completely dissolved in your tears. You were still burying your face when even through your closed eyelids you could see a purple flash of light and suddenly the weight laying on top of you was much heavier than before.
You opened your eyes and almost didn’t believe them when you saw Astarion – the real elven Astarion lay on top of you. Reflexively your arms and legs wrapped around the man to hold him as close as possible.
“Oh gods”, was the only thing you managed to mutter as more tears kept coming. The vampire in turn wrapped his arms around you as well. He was panting and coughing – surely a response of straining his voice with all the excessive honking. You rolled around in your forceful hug until you were laying on top of the former goose.
And then you just stayed like this for a long moment while your friends watched out for you and gave you two a moment of just holding each other. Making sure everything was fine and letting the realisation settle in.
You buried your face at Astarion’s shoulder and held him as tightly as your body allowed.
“Hello, my love”, Astarion whispered hoarsely to you as he started to softly caress your shoulders, arms and back.
You sobbed and lifted your head from his shoulder. You saw how he softly smiled at you and that his red eyes were dangerously wet as well as he kept holding onto you.
You didn’t know what to say nor did you trust your mind enough to form coherent sentences yet. You were just unbelievably happy that you had him back with you. So you just stared at the humanoid vampire again and didn’t let go of him.
“Honk?”, Astarion made in an attempt to stop you from crying by cracking a joke. You whacked his arm and pulled him in closer again. Then you whacked his arm again.
“If you’re ever going to honk at me again-“, you started making a threat.
“I’ll happily promise you not to”, Astarion immediately replied, pressed his forehead to yours and cupped your face with one of his hands – graciously reminding you that he was fully back with you again.
And then he pressed his lips to yours, confirming the promise he had just made to you.
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celandeline · 6 months
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in your head, on your mind // Jordan Li x Reader, Part 1
i know i haven't posted in like a year, and this is a huge shift from my usual writing, but i cannot express how jordan li has captured my heart and soul. this is definitely going to be a good number of parts, and will also definitely have some smut in there.
word count: 1912
previous part // next part
The Lamplighter School of Crimefighting is your home away from home on the GodU campus. Being Professor Caldwin’s TA is almost a full-time job, and in addition to classes and training and homework, most days you are in Caldwin’s office more than your own dorm room. Not that you mind, really. It’s the sort of job that will really set you up later in life - Caldwin knows everyone - and anything is better than listening to your roommate try and go viral on TikTok for the 30,000th time. And Caldwin’s a nice guy, in his own way.
“L/N.” The gruff call from his actual office resounds over the little foyer your desk sits in. 
Scooting back from your seat, you get up and walk the few steps between your desk and the doorway, hovering at the frame. “Professor?”
Caldwin sits at his own desk - a big, antique wooden thing that’s probably older than anything else in this building - hunched over in front of a desktop computer that’s far too sleek looking for the desk it sits on. Frustration radiates out from him like rays of the sun. Stupid fucking computer… swear they make these things difficult for people my age on purpose… snippets of his thoughts play in your mind without prompting - your superpower passively picking up his most prominent feelings. Of course, if you wanted, you could really focus and read his mind fully (even talk to him telepathically), but that was a boundary you’d promised yourself you wouldn’t cross. He is your professor - and boss - after all. 
Peering over the top of his glasses, Caldwin blinks at you, gathering a stack of papers to his left. “Bring these over to Brink, will you? If he’s busy you can just leave them with his TA, it’s nothing classified.”
You step into his Caldwin’s office fully, and take the stack of papers from him. It’s a hefty thing, so you tuck it under your arm. “Will do.”
“And while you’re out and about, get me another cup of coffee from the staff room. Two sugars-”
“Two sugars, two pumps of hazelnut, one splash of cream.” You say, already heading out the door. You’ve had his coffee order down since he hired you at the beginning of your sophomore year. “I’ll be back in a bit.”
“Thank you.” Gonna take a hammer to this stupid fucking-
His thoughts cut off abruptly as you walk out of range, heading into the halls of the Crimefighting building. Students fill the space, coming and going from classes, sitting in the chairs near the floor to ceiling windows busy on their laptops, loitering around as they chat with their friends. You purposefully focus on your own goal - Brink’s office, and then the staff break room to make Caldwin another coffee - to force the cacophony of thoughts down. The audible chatter, in addition to the telepathic noise, would have been enough to make you scream a few years ago, but classes at GodU have lived up to your expectations - they’re hard, but worth it, to get your power under control.
Brink’s office is across the building from Caldwin’s, a more luxurious room with lots of natural light and a good view of the campus green. You’d only really ever been in there on Caldwin’s instructions - Brink had only been your professor once, your freshman year, and you’d been too scared of his reputation to actually go to his office hours. Still, it was easy to find, and when you tried the door, it was open. 
The foyer of Brink’s office is much larger than the space in Caldwin’s and you find yourself a little jealous - it would be nice to sit at a desk here. You look first to the doors leading into his actual office, and find them closed. You turn to the figure sitting at the desk, and ask, “Is Brink busy right now? I have papers from Caldwin for him.”
The girl at the desk - pretty, with stark black hair that just reached her jaw and big brown doe eyes - just stares at you for a moment before responding. “Yeah, he’s on a call, actually.” Her voice is smooth, a little deep, and not what you expected at all. 
“Oh, alright, I can just-” You start, only to be interrupted by a wave of lust.
Goddamn. Smash. The things I wouldn’t do to get between those legs… wow. Those legs. How have I not run into YOU before? I mean really, surely I would have noticed the hottest person alive on campus - especially here, in my goddamn department. Fuck. 
Whatever you were expecting, it wasn’t that. You balk. “Um. Sorry. Yeah, it’s not anything classified so Caldwin said I could just leave it with you,” You untuck the stack from under your arm and pass it towards Brink’s TA. Her fingers brush over yours as she takes it, and for a split second, you can feel just how much you were affecting her - the wave of horniness hit you like a bus. The feeling lingers as you take your hand away, and you’re unable to tell if it’s leftover from her or your own reaction. Maybe a bit of both. 
She sets the papers down on her desk beside her without looking, too busy smiling at you. “I’m Jordan, by the way.” She says. “I take it your Caldwin’s TA?”
“Yeah.” You say. “Y/N.”
Y/N. That’s a nice name. Very screamable. 
You fight the urge to do anything but smile. Just looking at her, you would have never guessed such wanton thoughts would come from such a tiny girl, but never judge a book by its cover, right?
“Nice to meet you Jordan.” You continue, careful to keep your voice steady, even. Casual. Not like you can hear every piece of want cross her mind. 
I bet you’d sound good screaming my name. I need to stop - I don’t even know you. I need to get laid, my god. Down tremendous and I JUST learned your name. 
The image of you and Jordan together - tangled up in unfamiliar bedsheets, Jordan’s mouth latched onto your neck as you moaned in pleasure - crosses Jordan’s mind, and yours by extent. For, as she said, having just met you, it was a surprisingly good imaginary version of yourself. Though, she is looking right at you. It would be hard to get any details wrong when you were standing right there. 
Would you let me? Maybe if I was in the other form-
Before you had time to wonder what that meant, she’s changing before your eyes, rearranging skin and bone until an entirely different person is sitting at the desk. A man - taller, broader, but just as pretty and with the same big brown eyes. Your surprise must have shown on your face, because Jordan laughs, a smile stretching across their face. 
“Sorry.” They say, leaning forward to rest their elbows against the desk. “It’s just that I have two faces, so I didn’t want you to get confused if some random dude was waving at you cause I forgot you only met me as a girl.”
“That’s a pretty cool power.” You say, and then, with your mind, “And a pretty good reason to show it off. I mean, for something you came up with on the fly anyway.”
You watch their eyes widen as they realize that you’re in their head, and then their cheeks flush red as they remember what they were thinking about not moments before. “So you’ve just been hearing-?”
“Yeah.” You say..
“I am so sorry-” They start, shifting back into their female form. 
“No, it’s okay.” You say, a laugh on the edge of your lips. “I promise it’s fine, I mean, you didn’t know I was listening in and it’s your thoughts you can’t like, help it. And it’s not the first time-”
I bet, looking like that. Fuck. Pretend I didn’t think that. I’m sorry. Jordan buries their head in their hands with a groan. “Sorry.”
You let out a full laugh at that. “It’s okay, I promise. Please don’t beat yourself up about it, it’s fine. It’s flattering, if anything. I mean, you’re pretty good looking yourself. Not that you’re only hot, I mean - I’m sure you’re nice too.” You pause. “That came out a little wrong.”
Jordan smiles. “It’s okay. I mean, you basically get a free pass to do whatever you want to be since I’ve been…” They trail off. In their mind, …objectifying you. I’d let you do whatever you wanted to me anyway, but… fuck. Sorry.
You smile again. “It’s okay. Promise.” You lean forward across the desk a little, getting closer without getting too close - you have just met after all. The smell of smokey cologne fills your nose, and causes more butterflies to swirl in your stomach. They really are hot. “You wanna know a secret?”
Jordan leans in too. “Sure.”
“Most guys, when they figure out that I can hear them lusting after me, aren't even apologetic.” You say. “So it’s sweet that you are. Charming, even.” It’s true - which is why you don’t usually bother playing into people’s lustful thoughts, but Jordan… 
Okay. Okay, it’s not a big deal, it’s fine. “Would you want to hang out?” Jordan says, a little rushed, like they’d been waiting for an opportunity. “Sometime? We could train, or something…” Please say yes. You don’t have to say yes. I really want you to though.
You think about it for a moment. You don't usually say yes to these kinds of questions, especially after hearing the person's ulterior motives, but… Jordan seems nice, nice enough to genuinely feel bad about their thoughts once they realized you could hear them. And they are hot, objectively, in both forms. 
“Yeah, I’d be down to hang out.” You say, reaching into the pocket of your jeans to pull out your phone. “Can I-?”
“Yes. Yeah.” Jordan pulls their own phone out clumsily, handing it to you. 
You put your number in with a smile, and take the liberty to add a little emoji heart at the end of your name before you hand it back to them. “Should I text you, or are you going to text me?”
I don’t think I could stop myself if I tried. “I’ll text you.” Jordan says, glancing down at their phone. “A heart?”
“You don’t think so?”
No, no. No it’s great, I'm never going to change it. “A little fast, no?” They say. 
You smile, and inject your voice into their head. Liar. I’ll see you later Jordan. 
Before they can say anything else, you turn and leave, throwing one last glance at them over your shoulder. They don’t even try to pretend that they aren’t staring. 
Butterflies swarm your stomach as you make your way back through the halls. You can’t remember the last time being in someone’s head made you like them more rather than less, but Jordan… sweet, apologetic Jordan. It’s exciting, in a way, knowing what they were thinking about you, and knowing that despite the fact that you know, they still want to hang out. You check your phone, even though it’s not even been a minute since you left. Sure enough, a text-
what are you doing tmrw from like 2-4
You type out your reply: hanging out w u probably
You almost forget to get Caldwin’s coffee on the way back. 
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bakugoushotwife · 9 months
Text
gym partners
a/n: this was a hot hot hot request! i hope you gojhoes love it as much as i do <3
pairing: satoru gojo x fem!reader
cw: pining lol, pervy gojo, scheming gojo, blowjob, mentions of oral fem receiving.
wc: 4.3
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He knew exactly what he was doing. Inviting you over to work out in his private home gym after hearing you complain about the facility you had been attending since graduation. Satoru Gojo wasn’t subtle in the slightest, you were convinced he didn’t know what that meant. He’s been shamelessly flirting with you since your first meeting all those years ago in the classrooms of Jujutsu Tech, and it seemed graduating from school wouldn’t stop him from trying to impress you out of your pants. Maybe it was because you were so nice to him, never faulting him for his arrogance or annoying tendencies. It didn’t hurt that you were ridiculously beautiful, and your techniques were truly awe-inspiring. Maybe it was because despite all this, you played hard to get with him for some reason. 
It was fate that made you both teachers at the same school you used to attend, for it gave him ample opportunity to pester you more. He  overheard you telling Shoko about the athletic facilities being inadequate and the amount of male attention that you earned. He wasn’t so fond of the latter statement, though he knew it to be true. You were a total smokeshow, any man would be winning the lottery to cart you around on his arm, the perfect duo of insane talent and looks. He almost thinks it’s unfair until he considers that he himself is also the same way, selfishly enough. Though ever since that day, he can’t help but let his brain go wild thinking of all the ways he could make you his in his home gym, if only you’d jump on the opportunity. 
Your relationship with Satoru was…complex at best. You had been friends and training partners since you met in your first year at Jujutsu Tech, seemingly the only person other than Suguru Geto who could not only withstand–but enjoy–his presence. And then Suguru was gone, so it left you as all he had. Boy was he determined to prove it, to keep you as his person for life. He was the closest thing to a friend you had, aside from Shoko now that you’ve started teaching. 
There was definitely something more to the connection, at least you thought. Banter was seamless, working together on missions only showed the sorcerer world the best team imaginable, and he tirelessly worked to spend more time with you. You were only apprehensive because of your own massive crush on him. It may seem counterintuitive, especially if you think he could like you too, but you kept convincing yourself that it was your own brain playing tricks on you, making you see more to the story when there really wasn’t. He was probably trying to be friendly with you, and as badly as you wished you could have that, you know you could never settle for it. You would always selfishly desire him in more ways, not that you’re the only one. You know every man, woman, and everyone in between or outside of those definitions did a double take anytime he walked by. Anyone who’s anyone wanted him, and you would never be able to blame them. So you shot him down at every invitation to spend time together one on one, avoiding him anytime you knew that you would be alone. 
So imagine your surprise when he knocks on the door of your classroom and slides inside before you can respond, just the two of you. Alone. With Satoru Gojo. You look up from your papers, your focused gaze meeting the familiar, friendly, and fiery blue gaze of the one and only strongest man alive, even with the blindfold obscuring your view of him. He grins, and you look back down at the stack of History of Jujutsu Technique assignments. He chuckles, pulling a wooden chair away from a desk and dragging it behind him as he struts to your table. The sounds of the wooden legs screech along the tile floor until you can detect his frame towering over your desk, feeling his snarky eyes burning holes into your head. 
“Miss Y/N! Long time no talk. If I didn’t know any better–” He says, the amusement in his voice evident as he spins the chair around to straddle, leaning his lanky arms over the back. His blindfold kept the emotion in his eyes guarded, but his smile was bright white–and clearly teasing you. “I would think that you were avoiding your dear old pal, Satoru!” 
You hum in fake confusion, looking up at him with a furrowed brow. “Avoiding you? Oh no, never. I’ve just been so busy lately. All these papers, decorating the apartment, I got a cat recently and I–”
“Started going to the gym, a little birdie named Shoko told me. She says you hate the one you go to, though. How unfortunate.” His features are as smug as ever, and you know instantly that Shoko didn’t tell him a thing. “I imagine she told me out of the kindness of her heart, for our dear friend knows that I happen to have a state of the art, top notch, extremely expensive, home gym!” 
You narrow your gaze up at him. You may not be able to see his eyes through the blindfold, but you knew that he could see yours. He could see everything about you, except for  emotions, thankfully. “Shoko did not tell you that I started working out.” 
“No, she didn’t!” He admits without shame, leaning forward on his propped up hand, his smile unfaltering. “I just happened to overhear, but the fact remains! I can help.” 
“I…work out pretty early, you know our schedule, I just don’t think I could impose.” You smile at him politely, shifting your weight in your seat. He was bringing you dangerously close to revealing the truth. You yearned for him so bad, he had to feel it. Knowing Satoru, you wouldn’t put that past him. An invitation to come to his home every day and work out was nearly too good to pass up, yet you knew that if you jumped at the chance, you wouldn’t be able to deny yourself from crossing other boundaries as well. 
He tilts his head at your reasoning, his jaw tightening and the corners of his mouth twitching. “So do I, like you said, Our schedule. Really, it’s no trouble! I’m sure you’d feel safer in my home, anyway. No pervs, except for me of course.” He chuckles so boisterously that you almost think he’s genuinely joking. You start to nervously chuckle with him when he leans his chest against the chair, his face sneaking closer to yours. “I’ll even get us breakfast on the way to school. C’mon, Y/N…that’s an offer too good to refuse.” 
So you don’t. You find yourself driving to Satoru’s ridiculously expensive penthouse in Tokyo on a Tuesday morning, in your best workout attire and a nervous fluttering heart. You had to admit yourself at the gate via pin, one that he bestowed upon you the other day in your classroom. The house sat atop a secluded hill, and even from the bottom of the driveway, you could see a bright light shining in these early hours of the morning. It seems that he wasn’t lying, he really did work out early. To most, it may seem a bit extraneous to work out on top of training and running missions alongside being a teacher, but it was something that cleared your head in the mornings and allowed you to take some peace in your day. Though it seemed that idea was far abandoned. You park your car and stare at the expensive home. You knew the Gojo heir was loaded, but you didn’t know it was to this extent. He told you to just come in when you arrived, so you did, even though the house was shrouded in darkness, you squinted to let your eyes adjust, gasping when the light is flicked on all of a sudden, revealing a shirtless and blindfold-less Satoru Gojo leaning against the wall at the top of the stairs. He was grinning, beefy arms folded across his well defined chest, all enticing your eyes to trail downward. You could only hope your eyes didn’t bulge from your head or that you were openly drooling at the sight of his carved out abdomen, easily sixteen indents rippling through his midsection. You had to shift your weight, thighs rubbing together without even a word. 
His grin grows and his eyes shine brightly, the chlorinated-pool gaze of his zeroing in on your skimpy little outfit. Your sports bra barely contained your chest, and by the way those yoga pants got sucked into your ass…you weren’t wearing any underwear. He licked his bottom lip, pointing behind him with his thumbs. “Good morning, Y/N! Gym’s this way, I’ve been waiting for you to get started.” 
“Good morning Satoru.” You gulp, approaching the staircase. You keep your eyes trained on the steps, unable to look at him for too long. He stifles his chuckle as you grow closer to him, his form partially blocking your way on the steps. He likes to make you nervous, so he doesn’t move out of your way. He stands his ground, humming excitedly when your bare skin brushes against his. 
“Oh Y/N~” He coos seductively, enjoying the blush that creeps up your neck and colors your ears. “Right this way. What type of workouts do you like? We can do anything! Yoga, weight training, cardio, you name it, sweet lady.” He says, the upbeat tone of his voice making you feel like he knew something that you didn’t. He shows you into the room that was already well lit. Your eyes do bulge from your head this time, his home gym was the size of your entire home. He snickers at your reaction, strolling ahead of you and sitting on a bench press chair. He holds his arms out, as if telling you to behold the beauty. “Welcome to the Gojo Dojo.” He jokes. 
You snort a little, nodding as you step into the room. “You know this is bigger than most people’s houses, right?” You ask indignantly, letting your bag fall from your shoulder and into the floor as you survey all the equipment, weights, and mats Satoru had at his disposal. 
He nods proudly. “It can’t be helped, really. I give to charities!” 
You giggle at his defense, shaking your head as you make your way over to a few stretching mats spread out for the two of you. He watches you of course, wondering if you were impressed by his facilities. He can’t help but admire your physique as you set your water bottle down. He hadn’t ever been so enamored before, not even when he really tried to be into other people just to stop thinking of you. You were perfect. Mind, body, and spirit. You really didn’t need to work out at all, and he certainly hoped you weren’t doing it to lose any weight…my god you were absolutely delici—
“Satoru? Did you hear me?” You ask, waving your hand in front of his face with a soft laugh.
He shakes his head. “No, I was fantasizing about how good you look.” He admits without shame, blinking his focus back to your looming frame in front of him. Even when he was sitting, you were only a few inches taller. He lets his eyes skirt over your frame, smirking without pause. 
Your cheeks heat up, and you’re sure you just didn’t hear him correctly. “R-right. I was thinking I’d do some stretches,then work my core. What are you gonna do?” 
He wants to say something else clever to fluster you further, but he decides to take the passive route. You should be able to feel how bad he wants you at this point, his incessant attempts to get you alone, the way he nags you at work and blows your phone up with memes and reddit posts he wanted your opinion on should all be enough aside from his very obvious flirting. Anyone else would have given up, taking you for not being interested, but Satoru knew you better than anyone. He knew that if you weren’t interested in him, you’d say so. You wouldn’t just widen your eyes and brush him off, you must think he’s joking.
Which is why he’s wanted to get you alone for so long. If only he had some one on one time with you, then he could be as bold and vulnerable as he may need to be to win you over. That would come later, for now, he had to let you complete your workout. He nods at your agenda, thinking of the next step in his own routine. 
“Chest. Watch and weep.” He winks, and you quickly turn your back to him to go to your mat. He was too much for you, as anticipated. You could feel your body warm, and you knew he would see it if you turned around. What made you think you could make it through a workout session with Satoru when you could hardly stomach him being in your classroom with no supervision? He just chuckles at you. Maybe his affection was just a bit overwhelming for you, you couldn’t discern if he was messing with you or not, and didn’t want to embarrass yourself in any event. He supposes he could understand, if only you weren’t so stupid. You were the only person he held on a pedestal, the fact that you couldn’t understand how much you meant to him at this point was bordering on clinical insanity. 
He stands up to put his weights on the barbell, not bothering to conceal his watching you. You could feel it, but you figured it would be more embarrassing to stop and confront him over it. So you just continue, folding in half at the hips to touch your toes. He sighs at the sight of your round ass, your poor excuse of a sports bra nearly betraying you here, your fat tits almost spilling out into the floor. He packs the 45 pound plates on, four on each side, clearing his throat loudly. He doesn’t miss the way your head snaps up, shyly averting your gaze once you realize he set a trap for you.
You lay on the mat, you start with some leg raises, tilting your head back far enough to watch Satoru lay back on the bench. He hums to himself, feeling along the bar for his best grip. Once he’s satisfied, he lifts the 405 pounds without any of the effort you’d expect to see from such a heavy weight. He hardly even grunts, though you notice the sweat start to bead on his forehead  as he sets into reps. You’re not sure when your legs fall down, but you can’t help but be mesmerized. The bright lights of the room make the layer of perspiration shine, his chest and abs glistening like he’d been coated in a layer of coconut oil. You bite your lip at the sight, trying to fight the naughty thoughts raiding your consciousness right now. He does eight, ten, twelve reps at that weight before he racks it again, grinning as he senses your eyes on him. He takes about thirty seconds as a little break, deciding to show off a little for you. He starts another set, maybe forcing a few grunts to elicit a soft gasp from you. He’s sure you think he can’t hear you, but he does. He even hears the shakiness of your breath, though he denies himself the simple pleasure of looking at you. 
You’re a mess, and it’s horrifically embarrassing. He hasn’t touched you, he’s hardly looked at you, and he hasn’t even done anything inherently erotic, but you can feel your slick sliding down your thighs as we speak, and your nipples are hardening under your bra, which of course doesn’t conceal a thing. You watch him lift without doing any exercise yourself, embarrassed by the way he works you up without doing a thing. 
“Impressed by this strength, little thing?” He sighs out in between reps, finally racking his weights and standing up to remove them. He smirks at you, trying to pretend like you’ve been doing bicycle kicks the whole time. You’re effortlessly seducing him, just by being here and wearing that. He feels like he’s trying so hard to get your attention. Maybe this is all for naught, he thinks, wiping his face off with the towel hanging around his neck. He hadn’t even planned to work out today, mostly just wanting to be with you in every form of the word. He sighs out when you just groan out an ‘mhm!’ in response. 
“Okay..well.” Satoru says, his voice still pitched to be cheerful but definitely not to the same excitement you were used to hearing. It makes you pick your head up to check what’s wrong, you’re just about to speak on it when the words die in your throat. He’s slid out of his shorts, just standing there in his Hollister underwear, the ones with the short inseams. They make everything about him look even bigger, his broad thighs and long toned legs, and of course, his massive bulge. You nearly moan just from the sight, he’s literally walking sex and rubbing it in your face. “Since you’re noticeably not impressed or into me, I’ll.. stop embarrassing myself and go get showered. I can still take you to school if you want–I owe you breakfast.” 
Your eyes widen. He’s gorgeous, you’re sure you could wash your laundry on his stomach, the light coating of sweat covering his muscles made your mouth water—and what did he mean about you not being impressed or into him? Has he really been flirting with you all this time, and meaning it? You sit up quickly. “Satoru–wait.” 
He stops, the panic in your voice makes hope bubble up in his gut again. He turns on his heels. “Yes, Miss Y/n?” 
Now that his eyes are back on yours, you don’t know how to say what you want to say. How could you possibly put into words how bad you’ve wanted him for years, how you’ve yearned to be more than just the passing and whimsical friendship that you have. How could you tell him that you’ve desired him in your bed since the moment you met him, though how profound was that? Most people did. “I–I’m…well, I just, have…had..” You fluster again, looking down at the yoga mat you’d been laying on. He folds his arms, grinning at your bashfulness. Your confession was coming, it was on the tip of your tongue, he could feel it. 
“You’ve what, baby doll? Been tirelessly in love with me for years? Dreamed of me every single night?” He chuckles at your expense, folding his arms and leaning back against the wall just like he was when you came in. 
So that confirms it. That’s exactly what he wants you to say, what he needs to hear from you. He loves you, wants you more than anything. All his elaborate schemes and shitty pick up lines have been for real, and you’ve neglected them for years. You still don’t know how to communicate this need, this carnal desire you have to be his woman. So you don’t. You huff in embarrassment at yourself, at your inability to ever come outright and say how you feel. It’s going to be the death of you here, the reason you lose the man of your dreams. 
No. No, you tell yourself. If Satoru can be so bold with his declarations of desire for you, then you would return the favor. From head to toe, your body erupts into flames and your body moves on its own. You get to your feet, eyes trained on Satoru’s puzzled blues. You suck your bottom lip into your mouth and shyly look away, sitting back on your knees once you stand a few inches away from him. You look up, blinking thick eyelashes up at him. Your hand reaches up for the waistband of his underwear. 
“I dunno how to say it. So let me show you.” You offer with a shaky breath, cupping the bulge that slowly grew before your eyes. 
It was his turn. His eyes widened in shock, though his hand found itself knitted in your hair immediately. The feeling of your soft and slender hand holding him over his underwear was only driving him crazier. He needed to have your touch, the real one. He nods, pulling your face a little closer. 
“By all means, darling girl. Show me.” His grin is growing closer to the devilish side. You lick your lips and nod again, tucking your dainty fingers under the waistband and tugging them down. You try to contain your excitement as his length slaps up into those gorgeously defined abs of his, but you can tell by the look on Satoru’s face that you fail. He chuckles, your eyes widening in anticipation and your thighs rubbing together like you’re trying to start a fire. 
He was gorgeous, down to every ridge and vein decorating his perfectly arched cock. You were salivating, he was trimmed immaculately, just some short white pubes there to focus on. You sigh, feeling the heat pool between your legs at the same time you lean and reach up to grasp him. He lets a choked gasp go just from your slender fingers wrapping around his base. He has to consciously think about making himself look down at you, not wanting to miss a second of your beautiful face taking him in. You pump him slowly a few times, still taking in his massive length and the pretty bead of precum gathering at his slit. 
“Don’t tease now, god knows you’ve been doing enough of that for six years now.” He groans, pushing his hips forward so that his pre was spread all along your lips. He giggles at the obscenity of it all, and the way your tongue darts out to lick it all up. Goosebumps prickle along his flesh as you bat your eyes up at him and guide his shaft into your waiting warm mouth. He gasps softly at the feeling of your wet walls swallowing him in, the shocking way you swallow him down your throat was enough to have him fighting the urge to cum down your throat already. You were the girl of his dreams, and he’s been having fantasies of you on your knees like this for years. He groans as you start to move, his back falling more flush against the doorframe. 
You moan at his taste, willing yourself to take him all at once. The weight of him on your tongue was comforting and satisfying, and looking up at the way his face contorts in pleasure, you wonder why you did delude yourself for so long. His fingers gently scratch at your scalp, urging you further down his length, his load rapidly approaching at your gags. 
You let go of his base, forcing him down your throat even though tears spring to your eyes from the action. You move your hands to his hips instead, deepthroating all he had to give you. “Such a nasty girl, swallowing all this dick so good.” 
You moan softly at his talk, actually swallowing around him and choking just a bit. He loves it, the sounds you make and the eager way you bob up and down. “Y/N–I’ll cum soon if you don’t stop.” He warns, though you don’t take it as a warning at all. In fact, you only take it as encouragement to keep going, to make up for all the years you could have had together if only you weren’t so scared. You increase your pace, not minding the ache in your jaw as his hands slide down to hold your face. His features are all worth it, his mouth parted in pleasure, eyes scrunched tight as he fucks his hips into your mouth, pubes rubbing against your chin. His load is huge like the rest of him, the hot liquid sliding down your windpipe. He leaves his dick in your mouth for a minute, still grappling with the aftershocks of his nut, realizing this wasn’t a realistic fantasy of his and you were actually on your knees, sucking him dry. He grins down at you, knowing that your lives together were forever changed. You’d have a while to sort that out, all he cared about now was returning the favor, making you feel as good as you just made him feel. His hands gently stroke your cheeks, and you slide off him with a pop, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. Your eyes never left his, and he couldn’t tear himself away either. 
Your heart pounded in your ears, and you knew this meant big changes for your previously platonic relationship. “Pretty girl, god I’m so glad you did that…let me make you feel good too, please?” He asked, the whine at the end so desperate you could hardly believe Satoru Gojo was begging you to eat your pussy. 
“I–I’m sweaty, it’s not as bad for dick..” You giggle shyly, unable to look at him and say such a thing. 
“I have a shower. C’mon. We have time.” He wiggles his brows, stepping out of his underwear entirely. His hands pull you back to your feet, keeping his hold on you as he directs you to the shower.
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screampied · 3 months
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{nsfw warning}
okay but like…. could you would you write teacher x student nanami where you would keep teasing him and obviously, because he has a lot of self control he wouldn’t break, he’d gently push off your teasing and wandering hand when he’s trying to explain to you a question………… but then he burns for you secretly he wants you so bad and he can’t have you and then one day you come to class with a slutty and revealing outfit and that’s just the last straw for him…………… he def gives you want you want then 🌚
okay but real talk if you’re not comfortable with writing that like for example just professor x student that would also be completely fine i just want you to know i love love love ur writing sm <3 one of my favorite writers fr i check your blog everyday 🫶 thank you for feeding us with content mama
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❤︎ ໋𓈒 having professor nanami teach you another method
warnings. fem! reader, reader's in university, dumbification, spanks, sir kink, brat reader, dirty talk, creampie. mdni.
an. thank u thank u eee !! 💟
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“you can’t keep coming in here like this and expect me not to say anything,” your professor murmurs, and he’s leaning over you. you’re doing a failing attempt to copy some notes he had displayed for you on the board. he smelled so good, such a loud rousing scent that never failed to make you dizzy. he always does that thing where when he points towards a certain spot towards your paper, his arm would brush up against you. or—you’d accidentally do the same, except you always made it more obvious.
“like … what?” you’d raise your eyebrows, glancing up at nanami and he had the more stern yet relaxed look. it took everything in him to not let his eyes roam, your outfit.
he clicks his tongue in sheer annoyance, as always you were testing his patience. he told you to stay after because you weren’t exactly getting good marks. “nevermind,” he grumbles, and your eyes linger towards his neat matching black tie. “as i was saying before, for this particular method you have to—”
nanami desists with his words the moment you sit up, and you intentionally press against him. against there. “oops,” you giggle, and his jaw tightens.
staring down to see the thin fabric of your skirt raise up just a bit. you prod against the buckle of his belt. then you gasp once nanami brings a hand towards your waist. “oh. what—are you gonna spank me, professor?”
“you’d probably enjoy that,” he murmurs, and you’re just dumbly bent over his desk—you smother your glossed lips together before feeling him softly brush a thumb against your hip. “do you just choose not to listen? this course isn’t even that relatively hard.”
“i just don’t understand,” you hum, wittingly playing coy. as you sat against the wooden desk, he’s right behind you and the way he has you bent over for him — it was so lewd. nanami was a few inches taller than you, so he just stared over you as you faced front. “besides, your method is kind of.. old school.”
“…old school.” he repeats in a scoff.
a snicker slips past your lips before you gasp, feeling a tug at your skin. and that’s when you feel the soft linen of his tie wrap around your wrists softly, creating a soft neat knot. “fine, you wanna understand easier, bend over and keep your eyes on the paper then.”
“yes sirrr.” you’d sing, not taking him seriously at all. nanami was nice, which was rare out of your other professors. yet you pushed his limits everytime, and little did you know. his entire cordial persona was gonna change.
just a little bit…
nanami traced his fingers against your skin, your skimpy fishnets — as you pressed right into him, your ass prods against his bulge. you let off a soft moan as he gently caresses your ass, lifting up your skirt that was just barely shielding your rear.
“you know this kind of attire isn’t allowed but you wear it anyway,” he breathes, and he’s so gentle. you felt the soft grip of his tie going around your wrist before he shuffles in his pants a bit. “i hear you laughing. what’s so funny? enlighten me.”
“nothing, kent—.”
an abrupt slap to your ass cuts you off and you let off a soft whine.
“s-sir.” you corrected yourself, and you throbbed at how sudden his mood changed. you wanted more of him, being bent over his desk did something to you.
nanami lets off a grunt the moment he starts to gradually work his way inside of you—your panties stuck against your thighs, just barely pulled down, and you moan once he starts to sink his thick cock into you.
“f-fuck, already soaked for me,” and then he lightly pushes you further against the desk. your chest bumps against the edge with the many scattered papers. “do you touch yourself during my lectures? be honest.”
you swallow, feeling him reach deep and you find it hard to formulate words due to your whining. his dick was so fat, stretching you, wearing you thin. “…yeah,” you utter. “that’s why i asked for you to c-change my seat to sit up front so you could get a better view.”
nanami’s breath hitch before he sibilates. “such a nasty girl. knew you’d say something like that.”
he felt your slick wetness cling against him, you’re so wet it makes him kiss his teeth—you moan, feeling his hips continue to rub against you. being fucked against the desk, the creaking of the wood was so loud, it was screeching. amongst that, the only noises that could be heard in the office was you, the constant skin slapping, and the vents whistling in the air.
“do you—do you think about me while you’re lecturing?” you hide back a moan, back perfectly arched. you were genuinely curious, and a soft smile goes against his lips as he keeps your hips steady. “i see you staring at me sometimes.”
“just one time,” he replies, and his voice was so husky. nanami’s balls thwack against you, and you’re so dizzy.
you didn’t think he’d be so packed. you started to mentally drool, just envisioning the loads of cum he had stored up. the rough fabric of his black slacks — that were pulled down towards his thighs….went against you each time he pivots his hips, in and out, in and out. “i don’t know why you push me so much, sweetheart. is it attention? is that what you want?”
“y-yes,” you stammer, and his pace was balanced yet frantic. vigorous hits against your cunt, the tip just marginally kissing against your most sensitive spot and you whimpered from the stimulation. “you barely give me attention.”
he chuckles, skimming a thumb down your back before muttering. “well, yeah. i have other people to teach, not just you,” and then his voice grows soft, leaning in to kiss down your skin — he’s pressed right against your bare ass and you moan. “are you jealous? you have some nerve being jealous when you can barely even understand the curriculum.”
you’d spit something sarcastic back at him, but you were too fucked out already to comprehend. nanami hums against your neck, his buttoned up shirt tickling your back before you moan. you’re being pounded against the desk with your hands behind your back. “k-kentoo.”
“what’d i tell you about calling me that, baby?” he whispers, making you move your ass up just a bit. you arch upward and at this particular angle, hes so deep you’re about to lose it. nanami knew how you loved whenever he called you that.
‘…baby.’
running a tongue against your lips, you were panting…
loving each mean thrust he’s giving you, pumping you full of inches, and you have to remind yourself to be quiet. it’s not like the two of you are entirely secluded. there were probably people still around, then again…you kind of didn’t care.
his fingers went against your skin, softly piercing into your hips, stroking with his thumb while his hits against your cunt were the entire opposite. sloppy, sensual yet somewhat amorous.
“all this time went by and you never picked up your pen,” he grunts, continuously working himself inside. he was a perfect fit — a perfect match, nanami had you gripping against him tight. so good, he felt you pulse and clench. “dumb sloppy girl. jus’ listen how vocal you’re being down here, princess.”
you whine, biting your tongue whilst he’s buried to the hilt, breaching inside of you. his hips buck against you before your voice starts to pitch a bit higher and your legs starts to jolt in anticipation. “think.. think ‘m gonna cum sir.”
“m-me too,” he huffs, slow deep strokes to make your knees weak and buckle. nanami was so precise with his movements, he wanted to make sure you felt everything—you’re being bounced against the desk. his hips pick up just a tad bit before he presses all the way against you, balls deep. “you didn’t want my help, did you? you wanted me to help you like this?”
“yes sir,” you nod, your vision being blurred by the papers all up against you. your eyes roamed amongst the many incorrect marks nanami made, pointing your stupidity right in your face. “f-finish inside, please.. please.”
nanami’s jaw tightens at your words, you’re preparing to milk him dry — he groans, shoving your hips into him time after time. you pick up your pen, only to chew on the tip. he was so big, hefty with such a fat base. it hammers against you to where you can almost taste your incoming release on your tongue.
“fuck…you’re gonna make me dump such a big load. ‘s that what you want, dirty girl? arched all over my desk like this, so inappropriate..” he murmurs, his voice was silky, laced with a sweet tone that made you pulse.
“please, please…kento. i want to feel you. please.”
your folds were soaked, you could just imagine what it looked like. you whined out a whine from the feeling of his girth expanding throughout your clenched walls. nanami grabs onto your wrists with his tie perfectly holding against it. as you writhe in pleasure, you feel it. it’s approaching, and you feel ecstasy work its way up.
the moment you cum — nanami matches your speed, and indeed, he spills the bulkiest load into your pussy, it’s so much that your lips part. your mouth forms into a gasping expression and your ears grow hot, legs weak.
“s-so…much,” you’d whine, feeling it trickle out, many ropes of cum just emptying into you. it stuck against your thighs once he pulled out, and your professor brings a thumb towards your clit to smear it against your folds before pulling it back up for you. “thank y-you.”
“mhm,” he lowly grunts, untying your wrists with his tie while giving it a swift timing, watching it unravel. this position — it was definitely a favorite. leaned over his desk like this, you didn’t want it to end.
you let off a soft mewl, feeling yourself be coated with now cum filled panties, it’s sticky and you feel it while he readjusts your skirt. “so,” you panted, turning around to face him, a sheepish smile going against your lips. “did…did i pass?”
nanami gives you a soft three second glance before going against your ear, planting a kiss against your neck before muttering, “no, baby. you failed. but there’s always next year.”
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flowerygrdn · 5 months
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chasin' you | z. maclaren
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pairing: zach maclaren x reader
warnings: fluff, fluff, and... wait what was it....oh, MORE FLUFF!!!
summary: zach seems to have taken an interest in y/n. she definitely does not believe he actually likes her. no matter how often she says "it's never gonna happen" he can't seem to give up. maybe he actually does mean what he says...
a/n: um...hi. i'm back from the dead...anyways let's get on with the story. luv ya!!!!
---
For the love of God, I just couldn't get rid of him! Why me? Out of every single girl in this university, he has to go for me?! This has to be a joke. This has to be a dare...or or a bet, yeah that's what this is. A bet. Probably by his soccer buddies.
There is just no way that Zach Maclaren keeps asking me out. This is the third time this week he's weaseled his way next to me during a lecture. His arm was around the back of my uncomfortable wooden chair and his knee kept bumping mine every so often. Fuck my life, people were also dead staring at us. The universe must hate my guts.
"So, maybe after this, I can take you to that coffee shop a few blocks away." He whispered in my ear. His nose kept brushing the side of my face and chills kept spreading throughout my body. God damn it, why is he doing this to me?
"Unlike you, I'm actually trying to learn. So get your arm off me and leave me alone!" I whisper shouted the last part at him. I also whacked his arm off of my shoulder. However, instead of getting offended, he took it as a challenge. The arm that was once wrapped around my chair moved to my lap. He leaned forward in the chair, acting like he was paying attention just so he could put his hand on the farthest part of my leg. He started rubbing circles with his thumb and I'd be lying if I said it didn't give me butterflies.
I try to the best of my abilities to pry his hand off but he would not let go.
"You know some people would consider this harassment," I whispered to him again.
"And yet, your muscles relaxed when I put my hand there." I could hear the smirk in his voice, he didn't even have to turn his head. My mind blanked for the last half of the lecture, it wasn't until Zach snapped me out of my trance that I realized it was time to leave.
"Hey, baby, time to go." He took my hand as if he were trying to help me up, but I yanked it out of his grasp.
"I can get up myself, thank you. And don't call me baby. I am not your baby!" I shove my finger in his face and start towards the door.
"No...but you could be," Unfortunately for me, he has longer legs, therefore he caught up with me really fast. His head met my shoulder and his hand went to my waist.
"God, do you ever take a vacation from being an annoying jackass?" I roll my eyes and shrug my shoulder to get him off.
"Nah, it's too fun. Hey, but maybe, you can take me out. I would be a lot less annoying if you'd shut me up. Preferably with a kiss." He spun me around, hands landing on my waist, and smirked as he leaned in just enough for me to feel his breath fan across my face. I raise my hands to his neck, which causes his smile to widen. I smile and act like I'm going to kiss him.
At the last second, I smack the side of his head and begin to walk away.
"Ow...so what, no goodbye kiss?" Once again I hear the smirk in his voice as I walk to my car.
---
Once again, I was just minding my business eating and drinking my coffee, when all of a sudden the chair beside me was pulled out and a familiar figure was seated next to me.
"Ugh, not today Maclaren. I need a break." I lay my book down and begin to rub my temples.
"Aww, why so stressed, baby? Need me to rub your shoulders? Or better yet how about an infamous "feel better kiss" He leans in and fully expects me to kiss him, however, I pick up my doughnut and shove it against his puckered lips.
"I'll pass, thank you." He grabs the doughnut and takes a bite out of it.
"You know, I guess I'll settle for your half-eaten doughnut." He says as he begins to devour the treat.
"You're crazy, you know that, right?" I say in utter shock that he won't give up.
"Crazy about you, baby." He smiles wiping his mouth.
"Damn and cheesy." I pick up my coffee and take a large sip of it before picking my book back up. I hear a metal chair drag against the ground and the next thing I know, Zach is breathing down my neck. He lays his head on my shoulder and picks my legs up to lay them across his lap. And fuck me, I don't stop him. "Why the hell didn't you stop him?" you may be asking, and to that I say...I DON'T FUCKING KNOW!!!!
"You're so pretty and you smell good. You're smart and caring. You love your friends and family unconditionally. You read Jane Austin over and over again. You're taking Criminal Justice because you believe the justice system is fucked up and you want to change that. You're probably the most perfect person I have ever met." Zach says each and every word into my neck as he rubs his thumb up and down my thigh. All the words in my book began to blur. It's funny because, at the time, I was reading "Emma" by Jane Austin.
He knew everything about me. He listed the reasons why he liked me. To top it off, he's holding me like I'm the most valuable thing in the world. Does Zach Maclaren like me? Like actually? No Bullshit?
"I like you, y/n. No bullshit." It's like he read my mind. I look at him and see the complete adoration in his eyes. He actually means it. He lifts his head and kisses my cheek before softly setting my legs down. He gets up and turns to me one last time.
"I want you to like me how I like you. I want you to see me how I see you. And if you don't, then I can live with that. As long as you tell me the God's honest truth." Then he's gone. The coffee shop doorbell rings and I just sit there. He wasn't joking, he actually meant every word he said.
Zach noticed things no other guy had. He sees me as more than a pretty face. God damn it the justice system is fucked up! Maybe I do like Zach Maclaren...
---
I stand by the locker room doors and wait for him. He told me to tell him the truth, so that's what I'm coming to do. Fuck man, it's too cold and I am too nervous to be standing here right now. Soon, I heard the door open. Zach came out with a few of his teammates. He spotted me and froze for a second.
"Hey, I'll catch up with you guys later." He tells his friends and they run off. He stands in the same spot. The silence is so loud and I can't stand it.
"Hi," I said, full of nerves.
"Hi," The smile on his face was enough to make a girl melt.
"You did great, congrats on the win."
"Yep, thanks." I could tell he was waiting for me to say what I really wanted to say.
"That's all I needed to say...bye!" I went to run off but my wrist was caught by Zach.
"Nah uh uh, you could not pay me enough to believe you bought an eight-dollar ticket, sat through an hour-long game, stood by the locker room door for half an hour, and waited for me to come out just to tell me congrats." He could see straight through my bullshit and it was scary. He pulled me closer and let go of my wrist. His arm then snaked its way around my waist.
"Talk to me, baby." His words were like music to my ears. His voice was delicate and soft. I could just...well...you'll see.
"Um...so IcametotellyouthatIreallylikeyouandIwanttobewithyouandyoumakemereallyhappyandyeahthat'sall." My words were all jumbled and he looked so confused.
"Okay um...a little slower, please." He laughed and I took a deep breath before responding,
"I like you, Zach. And I want to be with yo-" Before I could get the last word out, he smashed his lips against mine. My hands went to his neck and his hand that was holding his soccer bag let go and went to my neck. The kiss was filled with so much adoration and passion. We only pulled apart when we had to breathe.
"I only needed to hear the first sentence." He smiled as he rubbed the side of my face.
"So...is that coffee shop offer still on the table? Baby" His smile widened and he looked up at the star-lit sky.
"Of course it is. Damn, all this chasin' you made me do, baby." With that, he connected our lips again.
---
a/n: hehe again, sorry for falling off the face of the earth. I'll try to be more active!
---
600 notes · View notes
theemporium · 5 months
Note
maybe some more 🧸for Carlos and Butterfly and their second baby including Lando and toddler Esmerelda? Just wee innocence?
thank you for requesting!🫶🏽
.
“Esme, no running!” 
A series of giggles could be heard along with soft pattering of footsteps on the wooden floorboards. 
“Lando, also no running!” 
“Boo!” 
You pressed your lips together, trying to bite back the grin that wanted to spread across your face as you walked into the kitchen. It was barely ten in the morning and the house already felt lively with the happy sounds of a two year old Esmerelda being chased around by Lando, who had been visiting for a week over the holidays, and Carlos settled in the kitchen as he prepared everyone’s breakfast. 
Your heart warmed at the sight, knowing Carlos had probably been doing his best to keep the volume low so you would be able to lie in this morning. But you didn’t care. In fact, you would take a happy and lively house over some sleep any day of the week. It made you feel full and complete. 
“Ah, mi tigre, you want a strawberry? Hm? They are Mama’s strawberries but I am sure she won’t mind sharing with you,” Carlos cooed at the small baby in his arms, just over seven months old and already looking like a carbon copy of his father. 
Little Rafael Sainz garbled happily as his chubby fingers reached for the small strawberry chunk Carlos was holding out to him.
“I guess I can share my strawberries with a little guy as cute as him,” you commented casually, leaning against the doorframe. 
Carlos whirled around, his face instantly lighting up when he saw you. In an instant, he was walking across the kitchen so he could reach out for you with the arm that wasn’t currently coddling Rafael to his chest. 
“Mi mariposa,” Carlos hummed as he leaned down, pressing his lips against yours for a few seconds before pulling back. “Did we wake you up?” 
You smiled, shaking your head. “You should have woken me up, though. I could have helped with breakfast.”
“Papa doesn’t need help!” A voice suddenly exclaimed as Esmerelda came to a stop by your legs, looking up with a tooth grin. “Uncle Dodo is helping.”
“Still don’t know how I feel about being nicknamed after a dead bird,” Lando grumbled as he came up to stand behind Esmerelda, his hands on her shoulders as she snickered at him. 
“I think it’s cute,” you said to him with a soft smile.
“You’re too nice to say otherwise,” Lando snorted in response. 
“Yes, well, your Uncle Dodo could have done more to help me,” Carlos commented, flashing the Brit a look. 
Lando only grinned innocently in response. “I was doing my duties.”
Carlos raised his brows. “Which are?” 
“Babysitting my favourite godchildren,” Lando answered easily before he reached for the baby in Carlos’ arms, cooing as Rafael’s hands instantly stretched out to reach for his curls. “There’s my favourite little guy.”
Esmerelda rolled her eyes. 
“Aye, don’t be like that, mi oruga,” Carlos mused as he reached down, not even hesitating as he swiped his daughter into his arms and listened to her giggles echo through the kitchen. “Papa will always be here to lift you.”
She blinked up at him, her eyes holding all the adoration for her father. “What about when I get too big?” 
“Your father is very strong,” you said to her, pushing some curls behind her ear and lightly tickling her neck as she squirmed in Carlos’ arms. “He will always be able to carry you.” 
She smiled up at Carlos. “Really?”
“Really,” Lando answered for her. “Your dad can pick me up.”
Carlos sighed. “When will you stop bringing that up?”
“What, so Uncle Dodo can’t feel like a princess sometimes too?” Lando scoffed as little Rafael garbled happily in his arms like he understood the Brit. “Inequality in this household!”
.
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twogyuu · 7 months
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i do (i think so)
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pairing: mingyu x fem!reader
synopsis: inspired by lauv's 'steal the show.'
You'll be one and baby I'll be two Would you mind it if I said I'm into you? (I'm into you)
genre: fluff, crack, slice of life, mutual pining (for context, mingyu is the best man at eunwoo's wedding, oc is the bride's younger sister. this is post-wedding)
warnings: mentions of alcohol intoxication/hangovers, probably profanity, mildly suggestive
wc: ~2k
a/n: ive come to cleanse your timeline and give you mingyu fluff bc there doesn't seem to be enough of it these days 😭 !
. . . .
There's a distant hum that invades your dream - something about seeing Seungcheol huddled in the corner of an old building failing to start a fire during an apocalypse.
Weird.
Slowly, you wake up, immediately greeted by a a pounding headache concentrated at your forehead. Your limbs feel heavy, causing you to be moving so sluggishly. You wince in discomfort, though still blindly searching for your phone on your nightstand as the hum grew erratic and it was now accompanied the irritating trill of your ringtone - why did you chose that one again?
After nearly pushing it off your nightstand and fumbling a few times, you finally get to the call. You're surprised whoever's calling hasn't hung up yet.
"Hello?" you croak into the receiver.
"Hi," the voice on the other end chirps. You can't put a finger on who it belonged to. There's a small pause of hesitation before they continue. "How are you feeling this morning?"
You groan, your thinking still too foggy to try and figure out who was calling and merely reply, "Like shit."
"You did drink a lot last night," they remark.
"Last time I'm making any sort of bet with Kwon fucking Soonyoung," you mumble.
The high-pitched, breathy giggle tips you off.
It's Mingyu.
"Mingyu?" you sit up right away, but instantly regret when the headache shoots to the back of your head.
"Morning, sunshine," he replies, "Wanna go on a date?"
"Shut up," you cut him off immediately, though you find your cheeks growing warm and you could hear blood rushing through your ears.
"I'll treat you to hangover soup," Mingyu states more than he offers.
"You don't-"
"Be there in ten."
"Mingyu."
There's a click and then silence.
A sigh heavy on your breath, you flop back into your pillow and squeeze your eye shut. You're feeling something between embarrassed and confused. The events of last night were blurry and you have a feeling Mingyu knew what happened. You recall making a bet with Soonyoung, a couple drinks, and the rest was was muddy. There were flecks of memories here there: Jeonghan lugging a swinging Soonyoung away from you, stumbling to your hotel room, gentle swipes of a makeup wipe across your lips, and then -
Oh.
Oh.
Your text notification goes off.
Mingyu: You won the bet yesterday btw. Mingyu: Soonyoung just doesn't know yet ;)
. . . .
This is not the date you were envisioning.
After ordering your bowls of soup, you chose a table in the back corner of the restaurant. Mingyu settled into the wooden stool that seemed all too small for him across from you. Only silence ensued. You did your best to keep busy, pretending to admire the walls were all marked up with colorful ink. Your eyes skimmed across the doodles and the notes.
Yuna was here!
LSH x KSY besties forever &lt;3
Moon Junhui is a cat!
Mingyu was just . . . way too comfortable in this situation for this to be normal.
He was Mingyu for fucks sake! Handsome, tall, and handsome, but clumsy with his words as he was with the way he walked. As confident as he was, he was also easily humbled by playful teases that sent him into a pouting fit.
Yet, here he was, smiling to himself, then at you, his smile growing into something more saccharine every time he caught your eye in between quiet breaths trying to cool off his broth.
When you're finally on your last sip, Mingyu reaches over and tucks a strand of hair that had fallen loose behind your ear. Simultaneously, he asks casually, "Feeling better?"
You don't get a chance finish your soup, flinching at his touch and your spoon clattering into your bowl.
Mingyu frowns.
"W-what?" you stammer, your nails clawing into the aged wood of your chair.
He pauses for a moment, blinking once at you blankly, then twice. His expression is stoic, but you could tell from his eyes, he was thinking and calculating - perhaps even mustering up courage, something you didn't think he lacked unless it came to his friends (and even you) teasing him. His Adam's apple bobs up and down. Within a blink of an eye, he holds onto his seat and moves his chair along the edges and sits kitty corner to you.
Immediately, you shrink back, but Mingyu leans in closer. He rests the side of head on his first and gives you a small smile. It's tender and his eyes are shining and hopeful.
"You're acting funny," he explains calmly.
You only press your lips into a tight line and let your eyes fall into your lap. Your blinking rapidly, wondering if he can hear how loudly your hearts beating against your chest - wondering how he can stay so collected in a moment like this. Did his stomach hurt as much as yours right now or was it just the hangover?
"You remember, don't you?" he asks softly.
Yes, you did - perhaps all too vividly now.
If it was Jeonghan that took Soonyoung back to his room, then it was Mingyu who took you back to yours.
If it was Jeonghan who tucked Soonyoung to bed, then it was Mingyu who tucked you into yours.
Wet makeup wipe pulled taut against his fingers, your chin held between his thumb and index finger of his other hand, it was Mingyu who had swiped away the layers of foundation and mascara from your face - and of course, last of all, your lips that were tinted a flattering shade of pink.
Unconsciously, your hands flew to your mouth. You run your thumb slowly across the bottom part, remembering how his fingers once lingered across it similarly. His gaze following along the transparent lines of your bare lips.
Eyes heavy, drunk, and clearly not thinking straight, you had merely tipped your chin up and your lips touched his.
You see, drunk you was not you.
You at baseline was introverted and you liked to keep to yourself. At parties, sober, you were notorious for people watching.
However, you drunk was on the other end of the spectrum. You were bold and overtly friendly.
It was drunk you kissing Mingyu, so inevitably, an innocent touch of lips grew, well, steamy.
You deepened the kiss, your hands coming up to fist the fabric of his dress shirt and pull him closer. Mingyu reciprocated - the soiled makeup wipe forgotten on the floor, his hands reaching up to cup your cheek and gently adjusting your head to gain better access to your mouth. His lips molded against yours, the faint taste of strawberry soju lingering on your lips. You could feel his hot breaths as he sighed into the kiss, yet Mingyu grew breathless by the minute. You took all the air from his lungs with every shift of lips, but he also somehow felt like needed you to breathe.
Nonetheless, just as you were about to part your lips to welcome him in, Mingyu had pulled away.
He rested his forehead against yours, breathless.
"Let's stop here," he whispered into your lips. "Before we do something we regret - I-I don't want to do this while you're drunk."
Tired, you had complied, nodding and slowly slipping away.
But the point is, you didn't need Mingyu to know that you did.
"Sorry," you mutter and quickly add after a brief pause, "If I did something stupid last night. Um, drunk things - don't remember much."
Mingyu sighs. "Why are you so difficult?"
"Hm?" you furrow your brows together.
He cocks his head to the side and asks with a hint of frustration in his voice, "Is it so bad if you like me? If I like you?"
You malfunction, staring at him owlishly and your mouth spews words on its own. "Um, I l-like you?"
"I'm wondering the same thing," he replies. His eyes flicker at your almost finished bowl of soup then back up at you. They lock on your own and they're dark and hard, but not in a harsh kind of way. It's a look in which that tells you that he's serious and he means what he's trying to say. "Because I like you - quite a lot, Y/N."
"Oh," you say softly.
"That's all you have to say?" Mingyu asks.
"N-no, no," you shake your head and unfold yourself from your chair. Your hand flies up urgently to hold onto his military green jacket at the forearm. Mingyu looks down at it then returns to you and you retreat again.
"Uh, I mean," you scratch your head, "A-are you sure about that?" you shrug and continue, "It's, uh . . . I was drunk and drunk me is very different from sober me."
It's now Mingyu's turn to stare at you owlishly. For once, his expression relaxes into something unreadable.
And for some reason, that makes your heartache a little. As the seconds tick on, you find it difficult to keep holding his gaze.
To have him confess, but still be able to reciprocate the same.
To have him this close, but you aren't even comfortable hugging him.
Is it him or is it you?
"I love them both," Mingyu finally says. "Drunk you, sober you, crazy you, calm you, dumb you, smart you - I like them all." He chortles somewhat bittersweetly, like he's starting to lose hope. "How much clearer do I have to be?"
They say action speak louder than words, and for Mingyu, that was very true. You recall the improptu dinner with him a week ago where he had told you, his love language was acts of services - it's why he had his hands so deep into this wedding. Eunwoo was one of his best friends, so of course, he'd put that much more effort in making his big day even better.
For that same reason, it's why you did what you did now.
You lean forward and repeat the same events of the evening before, placing a chaste kiss on his lips before pulling away just as fast.
Mingyu's eyes widen and his jaw grows slack.
Though it's you who made the move, it's also you who freezes. Your expression mirrors his, but there's a growing urge to push him out of the way and run for it because what the fuck did you just do?!
"Uh," Mingyu clears his throat, "Does this mean you like me too?"
"I . . . think so?" you stammer. You inhale deeply and nodded, examining the thought in your head like turning a coin in your palm. All things considered, you couldn't deny that over the course of these few weeks, you felt something for him.
And if you weren't to see him again after this trip is over?
It definitely made you sad.
They always say to marry someone you can't live without, right?
"I think so," you look up at him, stating more firmly this time.
You inch closer to him, chewing the inside of your cheek as you reach for his hand. He willingly lets you take it, wrapping his fingers around yours and giving you a firm, reassuring squeeze. He tries to suppress his growing grin, but it manages to peeks through in a sheepish, giddy chortle. He raises your intertwined hands up to his lips and plants a tender kiss on your knuckles, making a point to let it linger longer than what was normal.
Because actions speak louder than words, this was enough.
He liked you.
And you guess, you liked him too.
P.S. ?
Kwon Soonyoung lost the bet before it even started. Bold of him to think he could rizz up Lee Jihoon.
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justporo · 8 months
Note
Do you have any headcanons on what Astarion and Tav's home would look like? :)
You bet, I do! But I put some more thought into it over the day so may I present you with:
Domestic headcanons about what Tav's and Astarion's home in Baldur's Gate would look like
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After your adventures and some looting of certain castles you go to buy a small but luxurious townhouse in the Upper City of Baldur's Gate - probably criminally under its actual worth but you two are just so convincing, aren't you?
Dark wooden floors, high windows (with thick brocade curtains of course), wrought-iron balcony and fence - it's giving gothic and dark academia but in a homey and warm way
Soft lighting everywhere, lots of candles and candelabra, a fire place of course and oil lanterns that make every room feel warm and cozy
Astarion has impeccable taste and enjoys a bit of decadence (of course) and really finds joy in picking out furniture and decorations - he's going for noble, rich, palace-y, posh vibes, but tasteful
Also Tav would stop him from going overboard - she's not used to all the pompous stuff and cares more about the pracitcality of it all; also she's definitely the one who brings in some plants and greenery; also some nice stuff for Scratch because I'm sure Tav would insist on being the one to keep him
When Tav says she'd rather likes it simple tho... "Simple, love? Everyone can have simple, but not just anyone can have beautiful!" "So... you are not denying that beautiful means more complicated?" "No, but isn't that also why you chose me after all? Because I'm intricately complicated and incredibly beautiful?" Can't argue with that logic
Tav's also focused on making it cozy though and especially creating comfy little corners where they can just lounge together: like a little alcove to sit and read or look out the window or some pillows on the wood floor so you can sit in front of the fire place
There's a chaise-longue somewhere in the house - maybe in the incredibly over-sized dressing room, so Astarion can lay on it and watch Tav dress
DEFINITELY NO MIRRORS - no need to remind Astarion of that particular part of his condition; also why would he need it if you can tell him how beautiful he is everyday?
There's also a piano (as we have learnt before *wink*) and lots of books and trinkets and artworks - Astarion likes all stuff having to do with arts
It might be messy, at least at the beginning, you're both not used to having and holding onto stuff, also Astarion's desperately trying to find himself - that comes with creative chaos
Is there even a need to mention the bed is huge? And also has very much cliché dark red silk sheets? But it's probably the piece of furniture where you spend the most of your nights, not only for mingeling but just sitting and laying there, reading, drawing, talking, teasing each other
Also at some point you'd probably get a joint portrait but you don't want it to be too stiff and regal rather wanting it to show how much joy you give each other
The kitchen is to spoil Tav: when Astarion finds out you enjoy cooking and are pretty skilled at it he gets you all the best equipment he can find - even though you don't know how to use half of it - yet
Oof, I could maybe keep going some more... Thanks for the message, it was fun to think about this. (Also I know I might be swinging between medieval and more victorian vibes but hush, it's a fictional world where everything is possible) Also I knew I wouldn't yet do requests - but really that was just me putting something out there I already thought about. And I'll do some requests soon!
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milkweedman · 25 days
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Proof of concept thorn tool. (Much better versions of) these are known throughout prehistory and were used to process plant fibers. I didn't know if they'd work well enough on milkweed to bother with, but now I have tried.
I probably need at least 30 thorns, and definitely longer ones. I was collecting and storing some in my rollator bag, and I think they might have been falling out because I definitely picked way more. But even like 7 or so very short ones bound together (badly) with flax was still, in fact, a far more effective tool than just my hands.
I only processed one milkweed stalk, since it was getting dark and this tool does absolutely suck, but I got it from whole rhetted stalk to fiber in about 10 minutes, and I think I could easily do 2 or 3 stalks at once and it would take the same.
I first smashed the stalk with a hammerstone against a wooden stump to get the hard pith out. The stone on wood technique is new to me but very effective. I'd been trying stone on stone (lack of available tree stumps to work on) and it hardly gets the pith out at all. But stone on wood is super effective as well, definitely will keep doing that.
After removing the pith I combed it repeatedly with the tool. This was made difficult by the fact that the tool was constantly wiggling around and falling apart. But it quickly stripped the outer layer off the fibers. Previously I had been rubbing them between my hands, which was very very slow and tended to damage the fibers. I got the idea from Sally Pointer's videos, but I think milkweed might just have too thin an outer layer ? Or some other reason (or maybe I was doing it wrong, but I don't see how as it is just rubbing). So the tool worked much better and faster. It did produce a lot of tow, although better technique and a better tool will probably help with that.
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The line fibers
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The tow fibers (top--I didn't have the energy to clean them up, but these should be spinnable as a rolag once I do)
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Also tried a little cordage. My twist ratio was way off, which is a new cordage problem for me. I was curious how it would work up, but I don't plan to continue it. Not sure what to do with the rest of the milkweed though. I'm not very confident about spinning it, although maybe if I processed it more I'd have a better chance. At the moment it feels very rigid...not like the flax or hemp I've used.
Anyway, I need to go back to the hawthorn trees I found in the winter and look for new thorns I guess, although it might be too early. I really want a better tool so I can process the mountain of milkweed stalks before I move.
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trashmouth-richie · 4 months
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𝐜𝐨𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐫
1.3k | just for fun since it’s blizzarding here rn
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The wind blustered against the cracked windshield. Sending waves of sleet and snow against the van, hitting like gravel against the tin body. 
He silently curses himself for not getting the windshield fixed before winter came. A huffed breath drags from him, little puffs of frigid air in the cold interior of the van, as he attempts to blow warmth to his chilled to the bone fingers. Aching from the repetitive motions from work. 
Eddie’s life didn’t end up how he had planned. The rockstar gig was nothing more than that— a gig.  One show maybe two a month at the hideout, a small little escape into the world he once was determined to get to. 
But life had other plans for him. Things he never saw coming. 
The sharp right turn into Forest Hills was blanketed by thick drifts of snow, covering the usual pot holes. Still he avoided them anyway— the last thing he needed was a blown tire in this weather. 
Forecast called for  “1-3 inches” but what the stuck up weather man didn’t predict was the wind.  
The wind brought with it freezing temperatures, a high of barely four degrees. He called Wayne on his break, telling him he’d stop by after work and shovel his pickup out so he could make his shift tonight, but Wayne only grunted and told Eddie he was perfectly capable of doing it himself, just to get home safe. 
The ill maintained roads were horrible, his tires slid and skid anytime he tapped the brakes or eased on the gas pedal, making the usual ten minute drive home turn into twenty, then thirty. 
He was crabby, hungry and itching for a cigarette, but the gas stations were closed for the upcoming storm, leaving an itch in his jaw that drove him mad. 
Anything and everything that could go wrong in one day had. Equipment broke, most of the shift hadn’t shown up due to the storm causing him to work in place of two other jobs on top of his own. The lunch he brought was left in the van by mistake after hurrying to get punched in when his alarm hadn’t gone off. 
And now throwing the van in park he realized he never turned the lights off in his rushed attempt to make it to work on time. 
Punching the steering wheel he curses again, the light bill would be outrageous next month. 
The van door was stuck, probably frozen from the outside, and he shoved his shoulder into the frame to try to loosen it enough so he could get out. The wind hit him like a freight train, stealing his breath and pelting his face, chapping his cheeks red and ruddy. 
Rage filled his lungs as his sweat soaked bandana started to feel like a frozen sheet of ice on his head. Crunching his curls into icicles. 
The cold air seeped through his jeans, and he shivered when his boots sunk into the snow. Dropping his keys three separate times into the snow, Eddie yelled into the night. 
 And if he weren’t so mad he might have noticed a set of footprints leading from your trailer to his. 
He might have heard the radio buzzing about the incoming bad weather. 
He might have smelled a delicious slurry of cooked meat, beans and tomatoes boiling on the stove. 
The front door was frozen too, and when he finally jimmied the handle and flung the door open, he nearly burst into tears. 
The place is spotless. 
Ashtrays were emptied and sparkling like the countertops, the heap of clothes on top of his washer were folded and put away. A candle is lit on the table. You must have brought your own vacuum over because his hasn’t worked since the 70s. 
The small patch of linoleum under his feet was swept, his other pair of work boots and shoes were lined up neatly against the wall. A new rag thread utility rug was also underfoot. 
His eyes brimmed hot with tears at the sight of his clean house, and you, standing at the stove with a wooden spoon to your lips.
“Hi! Made a cobbler with that jar of peaches from Joyce Byers,” you chirp, pulling the oven door open and placing the dessert dish onto the potholders, “I know it’s not the season for it but it just sounded so good.”
It wasn’t your mess and you shouldn’t have to clean up after a grown man. But you do, and Eddie is more than grateful for your caring heart, for how sweet you are to him even on days he wants nothing more than to rot on the couch and feel sorry for himself. 
His eyes soften, and before you can ask him how his day was, he’s grabbing your cheeks with ice cold hands, bringing his frigid mouth to the warmth of your temple before kissing the tomatoey stain from your lips. 
He sighs into you, his body releasing all the pent up anger and pain from the day. Solace of your arms melted away the glacial cold from within him. 
The kisses don’t stop, and you have to lean back to turn the stove off in hopes that the chili doesn’t burn before you can eat it. 
His cold nose nudges down your neck, kissing the chain he placed there a year ago, one you never took off. He mumbles into your skin and his stomach groans with emptiness. 
“Let’s get you fed big boy,” you mouth against his sweaty curls, and he happily obliges.
After he places the last bite of chili from his bowl into your mouth, you drag him to the shower. 
Rinsing the shampoo from his curls and warming his still cold skin with your body. The heat from his tongue lapping at your skin, and something else prominently making itself known on the cheek of your ass. 
“Didn’t have to do all of that, baby,” he murmurs into your ear, fingers slowing working soap into your skin. 
“Wanted to, I love you Eds.” 
You’ve said it many times before, never once pressuring him into saying it back if he wasn’t ready. A life full of shitty people, it was hard for him to open up, but you opened something up in him that he hadn’t felt before, and he couldn’t get enough of you. 
Tangled limbs climb from the shower, skin barely rinsed and wet tendrils of hair hang down each of your necks. Your lips still taste like chili, and he still smells like work, but neither of you care. 
Lips smack together and skin is left hickied and sweaty. Elbows and knees are rubbed raw from the itchy sheets on his bed, his hair is drying into a mess from your fingers lacing through it, your breath making the curls go frizzy when he pulls you into him and rocks your body against his sat cock.  
Pulling sugary noises from you again, and again, he finally says it there. Chin between your legs, your orgasm dripping wet from his lips.
You sit up to see him, not sure if you heard. 
He says it again, liking the way it sounds, something he had been scared of saying for a long time, but he always knew he did.
A single tear slips down his cheek and it’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever seen, the cobbler would sit untouched until tomorrow, Eddie having found a sweeter dessert to indulge in, love.
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saerins · 1 year
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─── 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑
+ itoshi rin x f!reader | wc 6k | content: mostly fluff, some angst, rin is so awkward, childhood friends to lovers
notes: my first time writing something for rin so i’m nervous but i hope you guys like it <3 pls i hope i didn’t butcher him >_< rbs & feedback appreciated muwah !
summary: rin thinks about you all the time, for better or for worse. problem is, he really shouldn’t be anymore. things never seem to work out for the both of you, will trying even make a difference this time?
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rin knows you don’t like flowers. no wait, you like them, you just don’t like receiving them. you cried once, when the flower he plucked for you died within a few days in your makeshift vase.
rin also knows that while other girls dream of their dream wedding, you dream of a nice cosy house, a modern one with touches of japanese accents. he likes to hear you talk about it. he likes to hear you talk about anything at all, actually.
he’s known you ever since you were both little, since you were both five and just two kids in the playground playing hide and seek.
rin would always win, because you’re as clumsy as it gets and you’re not that observant. you could never find him, even if he’s right there. he likes it though; seeing you look for him, that little panicky look in your eyes when you think he’d ever actually abandon you and run off.
he played with you whenever he could—you were both neighbours after all. it was fun, being with you was fun.
you reminded him of new beginnings, like how it feels like jumping into a pool after a long hard day of training, or how the sun feels like hitting your skin on a cold winter day.
it was second nature for him—to seek you out whenever he had a hard time, to look for you when he needed a distraction, to search for you in the crowd to seek some familiarity.
but it’s easy for flimsy things to break. the both of you were just kids, and kids did childish things, like think only for the moment and not further into the future, did silly things like saying you’d marry one another with fake paper rings and forget it the very next day (rin remembers). kids also handle things in a bad way, in the way that leaves no room for the friend they pushed away.
if rin regrets anything from his past, it’s that he took sae’s departure out on you.
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rin doesn’t know how to process things well. can’t decide why exactly he’s so pressed about sae’s choice of words. doesn’t know what to make of why he even plays soccer. is it just because of his brother?
he doesn’t fucking know.
rin’s sorry.
it isn’t your fault his brother found a different path. you had nothing to do with it. you and those brownies you cooked for him. he’s sorry that he let them fall to the ground and just stormed off.
that was what, three or four years ago? you’d moved out by then, and the both of you had never spoken since.
if he’s being honest, he misses your presence. maybe it’s the fact that you were his manifestation of a safety net, someone that he could fall back on, someone he could lean on.
maybe he’s just being an asshole.
now he’s seventeen and probably even more of an asshole. if anything, sae’s departure left a bitter taste in his mouth that he wasn’t able to cleanse.
but he’s lucky you’re you. you’re you and that means you don’t hold grudges and you’re still the kindest person he’s ever known.
“rin?”
he stops his hand in mid motion, the key between his fingers dropping onto the wooden floorboards below. rin can’t seem to function anymore—he knows that voice. all too well.
it’s the voice that made him excited as a kid, it’s the same voice that comforted him whenever he fell short of perfect, the same voice that haunts his dreams sometimes at night, even now.
rin turns around and sees you there, at his front porch, smiling all awkwardly and chuckling nervously, your hands in your pocket because you never know what to do with them when you’re uncomfortable.
“hi,” is all he manages to choke out because he’s still a little stunned and his key is long lost and forgotten on the ground.
“hey stranger,” you grin, and his heart beats faster and faster as you get closer and closer.
the both of you are no longer kids, and it’s so painfully obvious now in front of him. he can’t stop fucking staring even if his inner voice is screaming at him to.
“i thought you moved away,” rin manages to say, and because he’s really curious as to why you’re even here, in this place you’re not supposed to be, talking to someone you haven’t spoken to in years.
“i’m, uh, here just to visit my family,” you stutter out, and rin wants to call you out on it so bad, but he can’t do that without exposing himself.
how could he possibly tell you that he knows none of your family is left here in the neighbourhood because he’s asked everyone who used to be in contact with your family? how can he possibly say that without exposing himself for going through your social profiles just to find out that you’ve moved out to another city with your entire family?
so, what are you here for then?
“hey, you wanna, uh, go eat dinner together? or something? later?” you’re so awkward rin could die. rin’s so awkward he could just kill himself.
the silence is deafening and it’s not that he doesn’t want to have dinner with you, it’s just that he has soccer training in the evening and he’s still in shock from the fact that you’re here in the flesh and—
“it’s okay, forget i asked, i was just—”
“no, i mean,” rin trips over his own words and the two of you are just two stupid idiots standing on the itoshi family’s porch doing stupid idiot things. he takes a deep breath, “where should we eat?”
that smile you shoot him is deadly and he wants to keep it forever. if that’s even possible. but he’s really awkward with his feelings and he doesn’t even know what he feels for you. all he knows is that he wants you to stay here again, be within reach for him.
“pick me up at six on your bike?” you nod over to his bicycle, and he blushes so hard because despite getting countless valentines from other girls, none of them have the same effect on him as you do.
rin thinks he should shake his head and say no and pretend like you don’t exist again. he shouldn’t go on this pseudo date with you.
yet he does. he picks you up where you said you’d be, at a hotel near the heart of the city. he’s on his bicycle, just like you asked of him, and you definitely dressed for the ride, comfortable in shorts and a tank top. you’ve gotten from cute to so so pretty and rin finds it so damn difficult to tear his eyes away from you.
when you get on the back of his bicycle, you put your hands around his waist and he can actually feel how fast your heart is beating. rin’s is too, but he’s grateful you probably can’t tell.
also at your request, he takes you to a spot he chose—which is nothing extravagant because you’re both still broke students who haven’t earned your own money, but he thinks you’ll like it anyway.
after getting some cup noodles from a nearby convenience store, he pedals over to the playground the both of you used to spend ages at when you were kids. the place where you used to play hide and seek with each other.
it’s a place of significance. at least, to him. he wonders if you even remember this place.
“nice choice, itoshi rin,” you say, and rin has his answer. “i missed this place.”
and rin missed you, but he isn’t going to say that.
“i’m surprised you remember,” he tells you, choosing to sit down on the swings. you follow and sit on the only other one beside him, your cup noodle hot and ready in your hands. “how’s kyushu?”
you slurp up some of your noodles, and rin thinks you look beautiful just like this anyway. “it’s okay, made some friends so that makes it more tolerable.” you’re shrugging like it’s no big deal, but he can tell by the faraway look in your eyes that there’s more to it.
“tokyo’s better, huh?” he isn’t much for small talk, but he can’t help himself—it’s been far too long without you, and he wants to feel close to you again. it’s as though after everything that happened—sae moving abroad, you moving away, rin feeling lost—it’s like he doesn’t really know how to be your friend anymore.
nodding your head, you turn to him. “much better.”
and rin can’t help but think that there’s a deeper meaning to your answer. but he doesn’t press.
maybe he should’ve, because when you switch the topic, he finds he doesn’t like what he’s hearing.
“anyway, i’m only here for a day,” you tell him, going back to your noodles. “i fly back tomorrow.”
some part of him wants to ask you why you’re even here. he wants to know about the you now, about how much has changed in these few years, what you like now—do you still like hot chocolate in the winter, do you still get colds easily, do you still think about him after all this time?
“are you… going to come back for college?” because if you still wanted to go to university in tokyo, you’d have to move back here. rin thinks he’d like that.
you’re a little taken aback because from what you’d heard from your old friends, rin had become someone they barely recognised; cold, blunt, more like his brother than himself. but in front of you now, you feel like the rin you know is still in there.
but this is where it gets hard.
“actually…” you trail off because you don’t really know where to start. “i got into a university in america. my mother got a job there and she wants me to go with her.”
you don’t even want to look at him right now. you don’t really know what you want to see. some silly part of you wants to see that he minds, that he’ll make a big deal out of you going away somewhere even further than the other side of japan. but if he doesn’t, if he looks like it doesn’t affect him at all, then you don’t think you can handle that.
“oh.” ever the best at giving a non-response, you’re not surprised.
it’s silent for a while, and the two of you are just eating your noodles, and it’s so suffocating that you want to bolt and run but that means you probably won’t ever get to see rin again and you don’t want that.
your body is screaming at you to do something, to say anything, to savour whatever time you have left with rin now properly—but you can’t.
beside you, the gears are turning in his head. rin’s noodles are already gone and he isn’t even aware his chopsticks are grappling around for nothing but soup.
america? that’ll mean you’re at least twelve hours away and he can’t even imagine what that’ll mean for your friendship. or whatever the fuck this muddy waters is.
rin wants to say something, anything—but what? don’t go? when are you coming back? are we ever going to be at the same place at the same time again after tonight?
he’s conflicted between his possible feelings and his selfishness. so he resigns to not saying anything at all. all that’s left for the night is hearing the wind blowing past your faces and the creaking of the swings, very much like how he envisioned a bad goodbye to go.
that night he gives you a ride back to your hotel despite your insistence that it’s late. because who do you take him for? did it mean nothing to you that this might be the last time?
“so, uh, i’ll see you around, i guess,” you say as you step off of his bicycle, after a trip that seems way too fast. rin already misses the sensation of your arms around his waist.
he thinks it’s a stupid sentence. realistically, in every single way he can think it’ll play out, it ends with the both of you drifting apart anyway, and he finds himself wishing you never came back.
which is untrue. which is the furthest it could possibly be from the truth. but rin doesn’t want to think about that right now.
“okay then, goodbye,” rin decides, because he’s not about to get his own hopes up for nothing. if you’re about to vanish, then maybe it’s high time he gets it done.
rin steps on the pedal, but then you stop him, voice clear as the first day he met you. “rin, wait!”
you’re not sure why it slipped out, but it did.
“what is it?”
his eyes are cool, calm, a dead teal that stares right through you. you’re almost intimidated because you’re not sure just what he’s thinking of you right now. he must think you’re a freak, showing up like this and dropping a bomb that he may or may not care about.
“um, nothing, it’s just- is there anything else?”
some part of you wants him to ask you to stay in tokyo. maybe the both of you could find a university together and stay in close proximity, just like when you were kids, just like how you liked it.
just like everything you missed.
and now the two of you are staring at each other, knowing yet not knowing everything that’s going through one another’s mind. but it gets lost in translation because neither of you can find the words to say.
rin blinks at you, and you can’t even read him if you tried. “no, nothing. is there something you wanna say?”
you shake your head, smiling through it. “no, nothing. goodbye.”
you’re back through the hotel double doors before you know it, and rin’s left to watch your silhouette fade away.
for the first time in his life, he feels like he’s lost something precious that he’ll never find again.
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life goes on.
rin graduates from high school and so do you. the texting stopped, and that much he expected. better to cut the cord sooner rather than later, even if rin wished for otherwise.
he rides on a full scholarship to university, and from the online grapevines, he hears that you’re doing the same. you’re smart, so he’s not surprised.
this is the right thing to do; both of you have your own lives to concentrate on. some stupid crush doesn’t matter. and yes, rin has already conceded to the feeling because he can’t explain this any other way.
his frustration that comes from your separation, his anger when it comes to being helpless, his endless regret from not saying anything that night—it’s only because he wants you.
“i hear y/n’s doing good at her new school,” rin hears his mom cooing from the kitchen. he sighs. of course she did, yours and his moms are both close. yet another channel through which he can get updates on you, warranted or not.
“yeah?” he pretends not to care much, but he’s hanging on her every word.
“yeah, it’s valentines’ day around the corner too, i hear she has lots of guys lining up.”
kill him. kill him right fucking now.
“good for her.” good for you he’s not there to stare daggers at all the guys ogling at you. good for you he’s not there to commit bloody murder.
“i think so too, ah she’s all grown up,” his mother chatters on, completely oblivious to the torment she’s subjecting her son to. “i hear she’s having her first date next week, i heard he’s a model too, did she talk to you about it?”
you must’ve played it off to your mother that you and rin are fine. rin sighs, tired of the thoughts running through his head. as if soccer wasn’t tiring enough already.
“don’t know, maybe.”
just like his feelings for you, and his willingness to act on it.
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two years into university and it isn’t that hard for him anymore.
actual lectures and assignments take up half of his time, and the other half is reserved for soccer. with teammates like isagi yoichi and bachira meguru annoying him even outside of practice, rin doesn’t even have much time to think of you.
until he’s forced to.
“what about you, rin? is there anyone special in your life?”
bachira tuts, “isagi, he’s always buried in books and practicing soccer, it’s obviously a no.”
rin’s annoyed, half because what bachira said is true and half because isagi made him think of you. it’s been a while since he knew what was up with you. you’re probably doing well, probably thriving in that environment, probably all in love with your boyfriend—that stupid yukimiya kenyu that you accepted for valentine’s last year.
he carefully extracts himself from isagi and bachira’s bickering, feigning that he’s looking through the aisle for books except what he’s really doing is scrolling through his phone and hunting for your profile.
what other way is he supposed to get updates? definitely not from you, because you’ve been so fucking radio silent since that night.
all that rin sees that day is a story posted to your account. just a backdrop of the view in your city with the words some things just aren’t meant to be.
you’re right. some things aren’t. including the both of you. so rin tucks his phone away in his pocket and goes about his day, half happy that it sounds like you’re not with yukimiya anymore, half concerned that this is what the both of you became.
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somehow he’s here. he’s right fucking here and it’s him this time that’s going to surprise you. unintentionally. or intentionally, if you argued that he agreed to come in the first place.
“isn’t this place so beautiful?” his mother’s words are lost on him. he’s too busy thinking of you.
his mother’s here to visit your mother and by extension he guesses you’ll be there. it’s supposedly the summer break anyway.
and you really are there, on your front porch this time, freezing up when you catch sight of rin walking up your driveway.
nothing can describe his relief when you actually walk up to him and talk to him, because a part of him was expecting you to slap him for some reason.
“still watching horror movies for fun?” you ask him when you’re finally alone together, away from the ruckus of both your moms.
you missed him, he and his teal eyes and his absurdly longer fringe and his awkward demeanour. he’s a long shot from the person you knew as a kid. he’s taller, more muscles, more stoic, handsome. you were too shy to look at him properly that night in tokyo, but you can now.
“i don’t really have time for fun.” rin turns away, a little horrified you remember as much about him as you do. you’d been asking him things you remember from back when you guys were five. “how’re things here?”
you hum in contemplation, like you’re considering your words, and rin looks at you this time, admiring the way you look in the sunlight, the smile stuck onto your face, the voice that he’d never get tired of.
“it’s fine, school’s great, boyfriend’s great, everything’s… great.”
boyfriend?
“that yukimiya guy?”
fuck. fuck fuck fuck. he didn’t mean to say that. fuck. you’re gonna know he stalked you. he doesn’t even fucking follow you, he has no good excuse for knowing that.
you blink once, twice, confused and then getting bashful from the realisation. “um, yeah. things were rocky at first and then it got better so…”
rin is internally strangling himself. he needs to stop having thoughts about a taken girl. he needs to stop wondering what you taste like, what you look like in the mornings when you just wake up, what you’d sound like when you’re sleepy.
“that’s… good.”
the two of you are awkward to bits and he wishes he was someone different right now.
the day ends with nothing substantial. rin couldn’t talk much after he hears you’re still with yukimiya. you couldn’t even stay much because you had plans with him anyway. who’s he to stand in your way? rin’s just an old friend from the past. that’s all. there’s nothing more.
that’s what he thinks. until that same night when he’s all packed and ready to go for the next afternoon’s flight. all because you called him out of the blue. he’s amazed you still have his number.
“hey, rin.”
from the first moment you opened your mouth, he can tell you’re crying. shit, why are you crying?
“are you okay?” because you’re probably the only person in the world who can tug on his heartstrings like this. for being the only person in this world he has feelings for.
you’re forcing a laugh, like you’re not sure what to say. rin doesn’t really know either.
“am i not worth anything?” your question takes him off guard.
doesn’t take a genius to know something probably happened between you and yukimiya. and it doesn’t take much for you to get rin bolting out the door.
“where are you?”
“home,” you sniffle, and you must hear him getting into a cab, “i’m fine, you don’t have to come—”
“i’m coming,” he tells you, firmly, and he can almost tell you’re smiling from the other side of the line.
rin’s heart is racing, adrenaline pumping through his veins. he’s not sure why, but he’s ached to get closer to you since forever, and he passed it up the last time, the previous time you met in tokyo.
his heart’s still racing when you let him into the house, when it’s all dark and unfamiliar and you’re so close to him he can smell the shampoo off your hair.
apparently yukimiya never got over his first love, and you’d caught him locked in a kiss with her right before your dinner.
he’s not good with these situations. at comforting people, at being so close to the girl he likes that he’s trying his very best not to fucking kiss her right now. how does he tell you that you’re good enough, right now, when you keep rambling on and on about how you think you’re not? he really wants to shut you up but he can only think of kissing you and maybe that’s not a can of worms you want to open right now.
besides, if he does that, you might look at him as something temporary, a crutch you need right now but not for the long run and call him crazy but if he’s going to try this much for you, he doesn’t want to be the rebound.
but god fucking damn it, he’ll kill himself if he chickens out now.
you fall asleep after crying your guts out, and rin’s barely said ten words to you all night. he carries you to your room, puts you down on your bed and he resists placing a kiss on your forehead even if you won’t know it.
there’s no time left here for him, he��ll have to go back home tomorrow afternoon and you’ll be worlds apart once again. tonight may have been just a fluke; you probably just needed someone and rin was a safe bet.
he writes something down on a rough paper sitting on your desk and leaves it there before he goes. it’s irritating, how much you’re making him think, how much you’re making him flip flop between various moods.
one moment he decides to leave you alone and the next moment he doesn’t want to leave your side. there’s just something about seeing you so heartbroken that he can’t forgive.
and how kind the world is, to serve the guy who broke your heart to rin in a silver platter. he’d recognise that hair and those glasses anywhere—yukimiya kenyu.
“who’re you?”
rin doesn’t respond, only pushes him away. “if you know what’s good for you, leave.”
“what are you talking about?”
“i know what you did to y/n.”
yukimiya sighs, “look that’s what i wanted to talk to y/n about. i wanted to do this properly, to talk it out with her properly but then my ex was the one who—”
“shut the fuck up, i don’t care.”
yukimiya looks like he wants to retaliate, like he wants to argue back, and it would’ve probably turned into an all-out brawl if your mother didn’t rush out of the house at just the right time.
rin doesn’t bother with anything else after that. he leaves even though your mother tells him he can stay. frankly, he’s not sure he can stand being in the same room as yukimiya without giving him a punch.
the next morning comes and you haven’t left any messages. rin’s already back in japan for a while when you decide you’re finally ready to call him. but he’s heartbroken from thinking he was stupid to leave you that note so he rarely pays attention to his phone.
you end up having to leave it on his voicemail instead.
you said to call you if i wanted to try and… i do.
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whatever yukimiya had come to say to you that night, it probably didn’t work, because rin does hear your voicemail. he hears your voice saying that you want to try, with him, and he thinks he may have been dreaming for a while.
but then he plays it over and over and over again.
he’s a few years late, but better late than never, he thinks.
you have two more years before you get your degree, and rin’s not about to get in between that. what he does do is pay you a visit from time to time because he hates this goddamn physical distance between the both of you.
it starts with the both of you talking to each other over the phone, the painfully awkward conversations turning more and more bearable. after a while, you’re the one getting him out of his shell, purposely teasing him all the time, getting reactions out of him.
he stays over at your apartment near school whenever he visits. you share the same bed for the first time and somehow it’s not uncomfortable. he lays beside you like he’s meant to be there. and you fall asleep so fast whenever he’s there, like he’s your damn lullaby.
distance starts to feel like nothing for the both of you, because it never wanes your feelings. even when he’s in japan and you’re halfway across the world, it doesn’t feel like you’re very far.
besides, he likes how it is—you chase your dreams, he chases his. the future can wait. the uncertainties can come later.
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they come faster than he bargained for.
you’re nearing graduation while he’s nearing the end of his current contract term with a japanese club, but you’ve scored a job with one of the hottest startups in america. which means you’re going to be there.
for a long while.
“take it,” rin tells you, because you’ve called him to tell him this because you don’t know if you want to. but he can tell, like he always can when it comes to you. you want to take it, and he’s the only factor that’s stopping you. because before now, you’ve been thinking of coming back to tokyo and working at one of the bigger firms here.
looks like that plan’s not going to pan out though, because rin will kill himself before he becomes the reason that you’re not being the best version of yourself.
“but that means…”
there you go, hesitating again.
“we’ll figure it out. we did it once before, we’ll do it again.”
you chuckle in relief because somehow, itoshi rin has become your rock. he went from being some stoic and inexpressive human to being your voice of reason.
“you’re right, you’re right,” you concede. because yes, he’s always right somehow.
so you accept the offer, signing yourself away for another five years.
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“what does that mean for the both of you though?”
you sigh. you’re not sure. rin hasn’t said much beyond what he did during that phone call nearly a year back, and he hasn’t come to visit for a few months now so you can’t really tell what’s going on in his head.
long distance sucks.
“i don’t know, mom,” you confess, “i don’t want this to be the end. but i can’t see a future where the both of us are always in different countries.”
your mother doesn’t say anything much after that, it’s not like she has any personal experience on the matter.
you think about it all throughout your finals period, all throughout your graduation transition. you’re not sure that you and rin can just make it through this by just winging it like how you’d always been. and you think maybe rin is just full of it, maybe he’s just as much in denial about this as you are. he hasn’t even been texting you as much nowadays, not after the news.
your phone vibrates on your table as you’re idly staring out the window. it’s a week to graduation.
a text from rin.
meet me after your ceremony next week, we need to talk.
and the anxiety kicks in.
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rin shows up at your graduation ceremony like he said he would. he dresses up nicely, white dress shirt and black pants—simple, classy, handsome. you can spot him even from where you are, up near the stage.
yeah, you’d been nervous ever since he sent you that text.
it didn’t help that he didn’t talk to you much up until today, when his flight landed and he’d told you about it even though he knows you have his flight details in your handy little app.
when you run over to him after the ceremony, you find quite a funny sight before your eyes. never in your life did you think you’d ever see rin looking sharp as ever in a white shirt and pants only to be carrying what looks like a bouquet of—not flowers but—nuggets on sticks and chocolate.
rin smiles sheepishly when you get to him. “you don’t want flowers right?”
yeah, you’re in love with him. dorky, stupid rin with his abstract ways of showing love. you love how he remembers details like this since way back when you were kids. you love his awkwardness and his acts of service. you love him and everything he has and all that he doesn’t.
“thanks, i love it,” you gush, taking the bouquet from him, accepting your parents’ offer to help take a picture of the both of you.
they take a ton of pictures.
in one of them, rin kisses your temple and you think you might melt. in another, you kiss his cheeks in return and he’s a deep shade of red. those are before the last picture where he turns you to face him and presses a kiss on your lips, earning a few whistles from the people around you.
you punch him playfully on the chest for that. you hear him chuckle and that might be your favorite sound ever.
rin surprises you too, because the next thing you know, he’s dragging you along with him, running to his car parked by the curb; you’re wondering how he even had the time to rent it.
“where are we going?”
your gown is long discarded into the back seats and rin only offers you a smirk in return. he’s not telling, and you roll your eyes and let it be.
whatever it is, you’re excited.
maybe it’s the fact that you had been thinking the worst up until this point. or maybe it’s the fact that he has his hand on your bare thigh. hell, it could even just be the fact that you’re sitting in a car with the prettiest guy you’ve ever met. but your heart is beating out of your chest and for the first time, you feel like this can be nothing but good news.
rin proves you right, because he takes you somewhere unfamiliar and then tells you why exactly he’s been distant the past week. he takes your hand and leads you through the front doors of what he now calls “our house”.
everything you’ve ever told him you wanted in your dream house; wooden overheads, small koi pond out back, a beautiful rooftop garden with a wooden porch swing.
everything.
he made it real. he made your dream house without you asking. he’s telling you he’ll move here if that’s what it takes to be with you. he tells you he loves you more than he can ever imagine loving anything else at all. he says that he’ll always be with you, and this time he doesn’t want to be apart to do it.
he asks you, “will you try to make it work with me?”
as if he even needs to.
if anyone asked you back then if you thought rin was capable of any of this, you’d say no. because the boy you knew at five is passive, quiet, not the kind to make declarations like these.
yet here he is, almost twenty years later, promising to put you first and make this last because he’s sure this is what he wants.
“itoshi rin,” you slowly call his name, roping your arms around his shoulder while the both of you look at each other and only each other as you stand on the staircase landing. “what would you have done if i said no?”
because this is all extravagant—rin put his everything into this. dug up all the memories of your dream house, ran himself haggard just to get all of this done on time, and who knows what else because he kept all of this from you?
rin has a straight face, beautiful teal eyes rolling to the side as he contemplates. “guess that was never an option in my head.”
“you’re so stupid,” you tease, pressing a kiss onto his soft lips and relishing in the fact that this is just the first kiss of many to come.
because he’s now here. here with you. and he’s here to stay.
“guess that’s why i need you around to take care of me,” rin teases back, biting his lower lip and smirking at you.
you jump up and he catches you, your legs crossed behind his back as he carries you to the kitchen, setting you down on the countertop.
“so, itoshi rin,” you say again, suppressing a grin. “does that mean you’re gonna make me your wife one day?”
rin sighs and rolls his eyes, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “okay, trouble, dial back a bit now. one step at a time.”
he’s lying through his teeth, a ring passed down through his family for generations already nestled neatly in the hidden compartment of the nightstand in the bedroom. he’s lying—but you don’t need to know that. not yet.
you’re all trouble, and all beautiful and all his and rin is going to marry you someday.
because he may be dumb in a lot of ways, may be a little awkward and terrible in most situations and not the friendliest guy out there. but somehow you chose him and you always did and you always will so he’s not going to let you regret that decision.
so before you can make a comeback and expose him for really wanting to marry you, he kisses you to shut you up, and you know anyway.
because you’ve known rin since you were five, playing hide and seek in the playground. you never won because you could never find him. but you think now you have; you’ve found him and he’s not going anywhere. not anymore.
“i’m never gonna let you leave me, itoshi rin.”
he chuckles, “i’m all yours, trouble.”
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rununcal · 26 days
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Honestly I did not know it was Trans Visibility Day but now that I do know, I made something for the occasion! I heart this insane middle-aged guy and headcannon his trans-ness as basically just an evil and fucked up version of his previous male identity. He’s a guy but goopy and scary now.!!
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(Image ID: Ink Sammy Lawrence stands over the corpse of human Sammy Lawrence. His human form is laying in a lake of black ink with various compositions scattered around him. His hair is unkept and falls into the pools. His ink form seems to have emerged from this human corpse, and stands confidently with his hands crossed as if in a coffin. His mask is tilted to the side of his head and he grins a large toothy smile. Behind him is a dripping trans flag in the shape of Bendy, and behind that is a small room with the shadows of outstretched hands all over the wooden walls. End ID.)
Very unorganized rang about how he relates to gender identity (cause I thought it would be fun) under the cut!
SAMMY LAWRENCE GENDER RANT WEE
This artwork is related to Sammy and whatever I headcannon his identity to be, yes, but it is also related to me! Sammy’s definitely one of the guys that falls under the gender umbrella for me, and so I’m using him here as a sort of expression of how I feel about my own transness. A big part of my identity is body horror and metamorphosis. What is horrific to most is still horrific, but also beautiful, to me. I would love nothing better than to literally crawl out of my own skin sometimes and live life as some freaky creature. I don’t really understand it, with me just beginning my journey and all, but I can’t deny it permeates a lot of my dreams and ambitions.
Sammy reflects a lot of that for me, as you could probably figure out. I know he hates his body in cannon, but to me it just feels so much more logical that he’d love his new body as it was given to him by Bendy himself.
Keeping that change in-mind, and also keeping in mind the undertones I’m giving him, I really like how his change into his new identity is handled. It’s no smooth sailing. I mean, he gains the new identity by hitting bedrock and going insane. But somehow, it leads him to a place filled with more fervor for life than before. Despite how low a place he’s in now, he has never felt more alive. (I’m not trying to romanticize this type of sadness by the way, I just mean that a big realization about my identity came in a dark time). I think that relates to a lot of feelings I have personally about my identity, though I cannot say for others. I just think it’s real neat.
Anyways, rant over. I just wanted to try and get my thoughts out on paper besides just saying that he’s gender. Ty for reading!
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motions1ckness · 3 months
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“Girl Next Door”
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Julien Baker college!au
summary: you’re visiting your hometown from college and the new neighbor’s daughter is visiting too.
content: smut, f!reader, dom julien, overstimulation, straps, submissive reader, minor use of pet names
“Do you know if the coffee shop I always went to is still open?” You yelled down to your mom, who was bringing in the last of your luggage from the car.
“I think so, but it’s almost 4 honey. I also forgot to tell you about the new neighbors.” She trailed on as you made your way down the stairs to get your bag from her, “they’re across the street and they told me they also have a daughter coming back from college; you should say hi, she’s a music major,” your mom beamed. You took the bag from her and offered a weak smile.
Honestly, you hated introducing yourself and feeling forced to say ‘hi’ to people you barely know. So, hiding out from the new neighbors seemed easy enough. “Yeah if I see them,” you responded, making your way up the stairs and setting the final bag on the wooden vanity that’s been in your room since you were in the first grade. You gave yourself a look in the mirror before losing the scarf around your neck and grabbing your keys, “Alright I’m gonna head out, I’ll be back before 6 probably.” All you got back was a murmur. The new neighbors and their mysterious daughter were the last thing you wanted to think about as you finally shut the front door.
Directly after locking it, you saw her. She seemed to be getting her stuff from the back of her truck as the two of you stopped. It was quick, but you could feel her studying your body, then your lips, before darting to your eyes again. Heat scattered over your face, contrasting with the brisk weather. Her lips curved into a smirk as she continued getting her stuff from the back, and you resumed on your way.
The ride was loaded with second-guessing and arousal as you kept playing the moment in your head. And it kept playing as you pushed open the doors to the cafe, the nostalgic scent soothing your nerves. After placing your order, you claimed your favorite spot in high school and often spent hours cramping for a test the next day. In an attempt to control the racing thoughts about the neighbor's daughter, you mindlessly scrolled on your phone, trying to relieve yourself of this fascination. A subtle chime from the door whistled, commanding your attention to none other than her. Her eyes flickered to yours before ordering and then walking towards you. Your breath was caught in your throat as the girl you’ve been trying to get out of your head was directly in front of you.
“Mind if I joined you?” Her voice was warm, and before you could think you were nodding. She took the seat across from you, and you made a mental note of her toned arms and how good they’d look- “ I’m Julien, by the way.” You had exchanged names and noticed her thumping on the table with her tatted fingers. “I’ve heard a lot about you,” Julien stated, gaze fixed on you.
“You have? Like what?” You wanted to kick yourself for not thinking of a better response but blamed it on her boldness and your extreme attraction toward her.
“That there was a cute girl also visiting from college across the street. Had to see it for myself.” A familiar flush covered your cheeks as her eyes landed on your lips.
“I hope I live up to the expectation,” you responded meekly.
Julien smirked, tilting her head slightly, her gaze piercing, “You definitely do,” her comment made you more giddy than you’d like to admit, “I feel like our parents have been plotting our introduction for a while." Her dumb quip made you laugh, sounding more nervous than you wanted, but Julien didn’t mind.
She loved how flustered she made you.
“Since I’m kinda new to this area, would you mind showing me around?” she asked, moving her hand from the table to your arm. The action pushed all the tension to leave your body, breaking her eye contact to stare at her rose tattoo below her knuckles.
Flustered, you respond, Sure,” taking a sharp inhale of breath, “I can show you more than just that.” You said, just above a whisper.
A beat passed, Julien's lips parted slightly before standing and holding her hand out, “I hope you didn’t want that coffee.” she said, her voice sounding gravelly. Unable to form words, you took her calloused hand and rushed to your car.
The moment she closed her door her hands found your hair, hauling you towards her, her lips crashing into yours. A slight moan escapes your throat as you feel your core pooling with heat. Your hand falls on her neck, as her tongue runs against your teeth making you submit to her.
Julien pulled away slightly, panting, “Maybe we should just head back to mine.” One of her hands leaves your hair to hold your jaw, her thumb sitting on your lip. You softened to her touch, your fixated stare never wavering.
Her attention focused on your mouth, running her thumb across your bottom lip. You gave her a short hum in response, unable to form cohesive thoughts.
“I need you to use your words, hun,” she commanded, adding pressure to her movement. That seemed to finally push you out of a dream state and answer her, “Y-yeah let’s do that,” you swallowed, starting to head back.
The ride was short. You put on some mindless music and could feel Julien’s gaze burning through you. When you pulled into your driveway, both of you took note of the vacant parking spots left by her parents.
After getting out of the car, the two of you discreetly went to her parent’s house, worried your parents would look out the window and question you about the two of you sneaking around. Whilst entering, Julien eagerly took your hand, pulling you towards her room.
Julien shut the door behind you two, pushing you against it. Her cologne overwhelmed your senses, the tattoos, and strands of her dirty blonde hair falling in front of her face making you weak.
Julien started attacking your neck, leaving marks and small bites down to your collarbones. “Julien you’re so- fuck” you whined, tossing your head back, giving her better access.
Drawing back slightly, she found the neck of my shirt and rubbed the fabric between her fingers, “Can I?”
“Please” you breathed. Julien wasted no time getting your top onto the floor before grabbing your waist and attacking your chest. The sensation pulled a moan from you, feeling her soft lips leave scattered love bites across your body.
“How about we move to the bed,” she asked, glancing up at you with a contrasting innocent demeanor. You quickly nodded and followed her to the bed, where she stood over you, looking down at your beauty.
“Are you into straps or stuff like that?” She followed up, catching you a bit off guard by the reality of the situation setting in.
“Y-yeah I’m good with anything,” you affirm before kissing her again, Julien pulls away looking in one of her bags to pull out a strap. You knew if Julien was a guy you’d have trouble with it, but seeing what she brought made your jaw hang.
“You always carry that with you?” You joked but tried to figure out why she packed a sex toy with her while visiting her parent's new house.
She started to undress, starting with her shirt. “I told you,” peeling off her sports bra and exposing her bare chest, “My parents told me there was a cute girl next door.” Your vision glued to her as she stripped down, putting on the strap, not looking away from you either. “Couldn’t resist,” she admitted, walking back to stand between your legs.
Julien liked towering over you, how you beamed back at her, knowing she had full control over you. She leaned down, cupping your face, placing sloppy, desperate kissing over your mouth and jaw. Julien’s hands began on your shoulders, but quickly moved down to your clothed heat.
“Baby I don’t want to split you in two,” Julien said genuinely, tracing shapes into your hips .
“Break me,” you waiver. It was so easy for you to fall under her control. Julien smirked before pushing her lips into yours again, cupping your breast and squeezing your nipple. A broken moan escapes your lips, causing you to throw your head back.
“Can you take these off for me?" Pulling on the hem of your underwear, "It’ll be easier for both of us.” Julien breathed, her face flushed. Without wasting a second you stripped, leaving you both exposed.
Julien’s eyes scanned your body, biting her cheek, “Fuck baby, I need to be inside of you already, please,” she said before kissing you again, pushing you into her new sheets.
She went back to your chest, taking each nipple in the mouth and swirling it with her tongue before releasing it with a ‘pop’, then repeating the same motion with the other. Your back arched off the bed, eyebrows furrowing and jaw hung. She wasn’t even inside you yet and you were a writhing mess.
Julien pulled away from your body, causing you to yearn for her touch. She sat between your legs, adjusting her hips and pulling your leg over her shoulder. You felt the tip of the strap run against your folds, drawing a whine from you. Julien gradually pushed into you, giving you time to adjust to the size, before bottoming out. After a few seconds, she formed a slow pace, trying not to hurt you.
“Julien–fuck, m-more please,” you begged. Her hips didn’t falter as she picked up the pace, slamming into you. Sweat started to prickle to the sides of your forehead, spewing praises and moans with every thrust she hit into you.
Julien pressed her forehead into yours, looking down into your eyes. From the angle of the strap, every thrust would rub against her clit, causing her to whimper against the friction.
Your orgasm was close you felt yourself clenching around the plastic cock. Your breath hitched in your throat as you finally came, but Julien didn’t stop driving into you.
“Julien baby it’s–,” you squirmed under her, unable to keep your eyes open, feeling tears beginning to prickle in the corners from the brutality.
“You’re doing so good, take it,” she said, her breath faltering from the thrusts. You continued to whine from the overstimulation, unsure how much more you could take. Julien’s body jolted as she sat up, throwing her head back as pretty moans fell from her mouth. Her hips shuttered frantically and out of rhythm as her own orgasm grew close.
Tears were stammering down your eyes as she fucked you raw, whining out to her. Her rough hands grounded onto your hips. “Take it, baby, take it, just– fuck fuck fuck,” she swore out before one final shuddered thrust. The slight glow from the window highlighted the sweat glistening from her forehead and the maroon flush casting over her face as she came.
After she finished, Julien slowly pulled out of you; not wanting to cause any more discomfort. She let go of your body, contrasting with the Julien from a few seconds ago. Hovering over you, she gave you a delicate kiss. Pulling away, she noticed the amount of cum on your leg and headed to the bathroom, discarding the strap. Your body had calmed down from the rapid and rugged pace inflicted but you found yourself fixated with that side of Julien more than you’d like to admit.
She returned back with a towel. “For you. I can also grab you water,” she offered with an angelic expression like she didn’t fuck you relentlessly a few minutes earlier. You accepted the towel as you snuggled under the covers of her bed, her doing the same.
“Oh shit aren’t your parents gonna freak out that you’re not home?” Julien asked, not wanting you to be reported missing or have your mom knocking at the door.
You look at her, her doe eyes already fixed on you. You couldn't help but pull her in and kiss her. “I’ll text them I’m visiting the neighbors,” you whispered against her lips. “And we can get your car in the morning”
“Can we actually have coffee this time?” She asked.
“Yes.”
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