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#like if you share the same talking points as the far right then maybe those aren't good points
yuri-is-online · 3 days
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Damn I'm really like the storyline of this game.But FUCK Leo,if I ever get a chance to smacked the shit out of him, please Chancellor one chance.He fucked with the Mc head, how Alan and Thoma didn't kick him out that car if beyond me, there better than me honestly.Sho isn't much better because he's going along just because he's isn't mean.
Just because there isn't cruelty that doesn't mean kindness.But he's the lesser evil.Makes me sad for Alan.
Let's talk about Lucas I wonder if the soul system is like JJK,like if your twins you share the same soul and that's why the demon took his brother.
Also which character did you pick for your first
-🤡
I picked Thoma first, but I didn't take screenshots of the opening. Probably gonna use my emulator to take a crack at screencapping all of the boys intros because I am insane and want to pick it apart for lore research.
Twins sharing the same soul/being seen as the same person is very common in Japanese folklore if I understand correctly? But that might just be me overthinking the plot of Fatal Frame II: Crimson Butterfly. So yes that's my assumption too, the demon likely took Luca's brother in his place since they technically share a soul.
Now. Let's talk about Leo. The main reason Alan and Thoma didn't immediately kick him out of the car was to not make a scene. Thoma specifically seems to respect the opportunistic sort, and thinks that Leo shows promise if he shapes up. He's skilled with tech, good at reading people, quick on his feet, all of those things are arguably good traits that Vagastrom, and Alan, could really use! Besides it's not like he has enough on either of them to get in their way yet, best to play it cool and walk away with the upper hand. Another thing we learn from this conversation that might be easy to miss is that unlike Twisted Wonderland where each dorm has rules about who should be the leader, Darwick's Administration picks the Captain and Vice Captain of the dorm, and grades seem to be more important to them than say. Whether or not the person has a good character, as we have seen from both Thoma and Leo, is significantly less important.
But if there is one thing I sort of have to point out that I think Alan gets and tries to call him out on, Leo is incredibly short sighted. He sees MC's power as worthless not because it doesn't work but because he already used it and got what he wants from it. He doesn't see anyone other than himself, and maybe Sho, as a person so he doesn't feel any guilt about using MC to get what he wants and then trying to get her kicked out of the school. He's also the only bitch in this house that completely ignores that MC can't leave, he doesn't mention her curse once when talking about her and honestly I don't think he was paying attention enough to remember that she can't leave because of that. Allan makes a point at the end of the Vagastrom book that I really hope is followed up on:
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I sort of read this as applying to his friendship with Sho and his own reputation. Sure, it's all fun and games now while he snatches up the Vice Captain role and still has Sho doing his bidding, but well. Sho does occasionally do what he wants, he didn't go along with Leo's plan, not completely. He didn't outright lie about MC's power, and he hates how Leo keeps asking about why the ghouls made their wish on a demon. He thinks it's wrong, he hates it. Leo's treatment of MC did bother him, and I know he doesn't want MC to die. I don't know how far you or anyone else has made it, but something happens in Book 3 that makes it seem like MC has gone missing, and according to Hyde all of the Frostheim, "and one or two" of the Vagastrom ghouls have to be talked out of going to look for her.
As of right now Leo's only real ally is Sho. If Sho gets fed up with him and stops covering his ass, then Leo has no one, and I don't think that's occurred to him since according to Sho's bio they've been friends since long before Darkwick. Anyway I hope they get divorced and Sho gets to keep his food truck. Like I said, we can run Leo over with it for the insurance money.
Have some Side Notes:
The ring of Solomon, or the ring of wisdom, granted Solomon the power to make demons do his bidding in the original myth. Since ghouls powers come from demons, in some way, shape, or form, my theory is that the ring is likely enhancing the demonic part of them.
The "like doves" supposedly appear when someone is thinking of you positively/likes you. The first people to make these doves appear around MC are Luka and Kaito. The second is Sho, which is honestly why I am a bit softer on him then I should be. The third time it shows up is at the end of Jabberwock's book with all three dorm members present, meaning literally the only bitch in this house who does not respect MC is fucking Leo that dick-
while it isn't specified, Professor Dante appears to be the advisor for both Frostheim and Vagastrom, something I think is more or less confirmed by Hyde being in charge of both Jabberwock and Sinostra. Anyway the point I want to make is that we are missing a dorm if we follow the rule of each advisor being in charge of two, and no I don't mean the two missing characters from Obscuary I mean a whole dorm that seems to have specialized in exorcisms (perhaps of curses 👀):
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My personal theory is that their dorm used to be in the Cathedral we are staying in and that it was destroyed during "the Clash" that's been alluded to in the first part of the story, we don't know much about it other than 1) it was between ghouls, perhaps exclusively 2) there is a spy of some sort Thoma and Alan are looking for that might have had something to do with it and 3) a Frostheim student behaved very badly during the Clash to the point Thoma seems to think they should take some responsibility for it. But that's just my speculation, don't know how much of it's real.
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sourbinnie · 11 months
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☆ hit me where it hurts.mp3 ☆
♡ genre ¿? ♡ -> angst ¡! ♡ pair ¿? ♡ -> hyung line!skz x gn!reader ♡ plot ¿? ♡ -> sometimes things shouldn't be said (or thought) but the words slip right out of his mouth at the worst time. ♡ warnings ¿? ♡ -> arguments ; the boys being a little mean but instantly regretting it ; cursing ♡ request ¿? ♡ -> yes!
maknae line
a/n: first reaction ¡! i decided i would go with the "compares you" part. hope i did it well for yall and to the person who requested it, thank u!!! i'll publish maknae line whenever i'm free:]
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chan ✉
arguments could get pretty heated with chan sometimes (he's a libra at the end of the day). it could get stressful since you've been going back & forth for so long now, as you tried to make him understand that he wasn't taking care of himself but it only brought back hurtful words that you were letting it pass under the excuse that he was "too tired". maybe you were too naive at that moment thinking that he would calm down and you guys would solve it like you always do.
then you heard it, he didn't say their name but you could only imagine who he was talking about at that point and time. 
"they would just leave me alone and let me be, why can't you do the same? ah right you're not them and you will never be." he said and horror washed him instantly as they realized what they did. fights were inevitable but you can always keep comments to yourself right? it was just the heat of the moment that made him slip out such cruel words. as soon as you were turning away to leave, he was trying to find his way to you but it was too late anyways. "baby nono, don't leave not right now, it's late and i was fucking stupid. i'm so fucking sorry-."
"i just need some space right now, yeah? i need to be away from you." you said and that only made him worry even more as that's the last thing he wanted right now. "just let me christopher, we'll talk when i get back." 
"don't call me that, i'm still your channie, your boyfriend and i still fucking love you. listen i'm sorry but please don't go." he said close to the tears falling from his eyes and you just shook your head as you grabbed your things and he followed you around the house like a lost puppy. "(y/n) let's work this out yeah? i'll go to the dorms tonight and you'll stay here."
eventually knowing he wouldn't give up, you just nodded as you went to your shared bedroom and sighed. letting the tears finally from your eyes and hearing the door close was enough to let your sobs out from how much those words stung in your heart.
minho ✉ 
fighting with minho wasn't easy. his witty responses and his hurtful comments always stood out like daggers in your heart. he usually didn't fight at all but when he did, most of the time he took it too far and it wasn't easy to forget what he said. as the new comeback approached, you tried your best to be supportive but when you couldn't see them on their first win, it hurt minho. he wanted you to be there, backstage or in the crowd cheering for them but he did not see you anywhere. turns out you were too late, had a "work" emergency, he called bullshit on that.
"i'm sorry min, i'll promise i'll be on the next one. my boss really needed me and-." he cut you off immediately, not wanting to hear it.
"it's fine. it's not like they would miss out on this like you did. maybe i should just get back with them." he muttered and it was enough for you to walk away from him. all the boys were there to talk to him about what just happened and why were you crying but he was completely petrified from your reaction and how you just went away without a word. "god i'm such a fucking idiot." he said as he chased after you through the hallways.
"don't even try talking to me. i get that you're fucking mad but that doesn't give you an excuse to say stuff like that." you said as you still walked away and didn't even look in his direction. minho tried to process what was happening all at once but couldn't bare to see the look in your eyes as the tears were still going down your face.
"please listen to me for a second. it was stupid that i got mad, i should've understood you from the beginning but please stay and i'll make it up to you. i promise." he said and even if it did sound sincere, you just couldn't do it.
"i'm sorry, i think i wanna be alone tonight." you said as you looked at him one last time and kissed his cheek before muttering "goodbye minho" and walking through the door. leaving a distraught and regretful minho behind.
changbin ✉ 
it wasn't rare for you to fight with changbin, what was rare was when he got mad. this time when you were at the studio, making sure 3racha were feeling well and not overworking themselves, you were met with a furious bin. it surprised you, you've never seen him mad and maybe something else was happening that you didn't know or you chose the worst time to visit the studio. whatever it was, it made you feel so small and like you were in a place you did not belong. jisung and chan weren't even there to witness it but you guessed that as soon as they heard, they left you guys alone.
"look i'm sorry. i don't know what i did wrong but that doesn't excuse your attitude and how you're treating me right now!" you said but it wasn't enough to his ears as he gave you the next words.
"god i can never say anything, at least with them they would let me express myself. i should've never broken up with them if i knew i was gonna end up with you." ouch was all that could be said about that as you nodded and felt the water in your eyes grow slowly. "shit- i'm so fucking sorry, i don't know what came over me baby."
he tried to get close to you but you just took a step back and that broke changbin's heart completely. it made him feel like a monster in front of you but he couldn't blame you for that, it was all his fault in the end. when he saw you walk away, as much as he wanted to, he decided not to follow you and let you go. he couldn't describe what he was feeling when he saw you practically run away from the building and not answer for jisung's calls since he was just walking in with chan. 
"what the fuck happened hyung?" jisung asked as he crossed his arms and that's when changbin lost the control of his tears. he wasn't one to usually cry but he was now gonna be haunted with muttering those words to you and what he made you feel in that moment.
"i fucked it up like i always do." he said brokenly.
hyunjin ✉
as much as you loved hyunjin, he got so petty in fights it was irritating. he was the definition of drama queen and he could fight on & on about the tiniest of details. like right now when you just got home and you forgot to do some things in your shared apartment. tiny things like the dishes or the laundry usually didn't piss him off but today when he got home practice and saw, in his words, that the whole house was upside down, he got stressed. 
"look i'm sorry, i forgot to do it and i know you've been busy with practice. i'll do it tomorrow since i get to go home earlier." you tried to explain but he just shook his head and crossed his arms.
"tomorrow? are you serious? they would've done it right here and now and wouldn't be putting up excuses like you're doing." he didn't even have to mention them for you to know who he was talking about. it felt like twisting the knife on the wound as you just looked at him with the most hurtful stare.
"of course they would. they didn't have a job in the first place and relied on you for everything!" you said and laughed bitterly but in a sad way. "if it's my job then it's a problem but with your job there's literally no excuse right? 'cause it's more important. grow up hyunjin." 
"look babe i'm sorry. i don't know what the fuck i was thinking when i said that." he tried to make up an excuse at the moment but he knew nothing would justify what he said and implied with his words. it was met with a sigh from you and it was your turn to shake your head. "i don't think your job is less important and i shouldn't have said what i said-."
"but you said it." you whispered and decided to head to your shared bedroom to lock the door. you needed some time alone not only because of the harsh words but because it made you process your whole relationship in a flashback. 
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astridthevalkyrie · 1 month
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xavier thinks you're cruel when you smile. everything about you is different, to the point where it feels like you're just a whole different person sharing the same face as the woman he knew. but then, when he met you as a lightseeker, he'd thought the same thing, that you were nothing like his best friend who didn't have any grand dreams of becoming a grandis knight, and only thought of living today to the fullest because she knew she would not see tomorrow. and then he'd fallen for the woman sacrificing her blood, sweat and tears just so that she could be claimed as his. and as predicted, he's fallen for you for the third time now, and he realizes that your personality could change a million times over a million lives, and he will love you more and more each time he meets you. because no matter what you do and no matter what you are trying to be, your smile blinds him each and every time. and that is what he finds cruel, because it must be cruel to make him fall for that smile again and again and again, and surely there is a limit to how many people one man can fall in love with. perhaps he's the exception, or perhaps it doesn't count because you are still one person. either way, it is torture, torture in its sweetest form that he could never hate you for, because you are not actually cruel, you are far kinder than he deserves.
"mister deepspace hunter," you sing, poking his cheek with a chicken plushie, "you can't sleep, we've only seen two movies."
"how many more are there?"
"three more in this series, and then we start the next fantasy series."
"you're insane," he says sweetly, burrowing further under your favorite blanket.
with a giggle, you lay your head down on his lap, hair splayed out on what he deems is your rightful pillow. "it's not a movie night if we don't stay up the whole night."
he's about to tell you that both of you need sleep, that it's not healthy to stay up this late or to pull all-nighters, but then he gazes down to where you're grinning up at him, and his heart stops for a second, because you are so, so, so beautiful, and he's gone.
sleep can wait another day.
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zayne thinks you're cruel when you speak. you are reserved around him, and while he never thinks you should limit yourself, least of all on his behalf, maybe this is the most merciful path you can take. because once you do start speaking, once you place your hand over his across whichever table at whichever restaurant to go off on an excited ramble about your latest endeavor, everything else fades way. and it is cruel, to make him lose control all of all senses aside from sound. it is cruel to metaphorically force him on his knees to bend and dance to the sound of your voice and your voice alone. it leaves him vulnerable, to pain, to betrayal, to any and every harmful thing that could possibly be surrounding him, when he cannot observe, when he cannot fight, when he cannot be, while you are speaking. when every individual word you speak has its own unique significance, and he would not be able to kill anyone who interrupts you because he would not even realize it happened, too entranced by the spell you cast. he is not his own in those moments, he only belongs to you. and thankfully, nothing does befall him, because you are not actually cruel, you are far kinder than he deserves.
"what do you think?"
he pauses, hand in yours as the two of you walk, blinking at you a few times. "what do i think?"
"yeah, you, doctor," you tease, squeezing his fingers. "what do you think? i've been talking your head off for five minutes."
he is not jarred because he hadn't been paying attention, on the contrary he'd been hanging off your every word. his opinion simply does not matter as much in his eyes.
"i agree with you," he says, enjoying the way you beam at his concurrence, "but what did you think about the other article?"
predictably, you take the bait and launch into another long rant, and he wills this topic to last forever.
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rafayel thinks you're cruel when you sleep. so, so soundly you sleep, sometimes in his own bed because he offers it to you like a fool. you look beautiful when you sleep, which is half the problem, and he knows that it is all sorts of wrong to find you beautiful when he's also paralyzed because of how similar your appearance is to death. from a distance, he could never tell the difference. it is only when he is next to you, holding your slack wrist in his hands, that he can breathe easier by pressing his fingers to your pulse. and he is terrified that one day he won't feel it, because it has happened before. one moment you were there, alive and well and his, and the next you were in his arms, lifeless and limp and somehow still beautiful. so there is no way for him to calm his racing heart when he sees you asleep, and the reason it's cruel is because he knows he cannot disturb you. not you, who works so hard and needs your sleep more than anyone else. he cannot ask you to sit up and breathe and laugh and show him that you're still alive. even though he knows you would should he ask, because you are not actually cruel, you are far kinder than he deserves.
"hmm." your eyes are bleary as they blink awake, hardly aware of where you are.
he slides his arms around you from behind, hiding his face in your neck. "you can go back to sleep, was just making sure you were still alive."
a quiet huff escapes you, clearly annoyed at being woken up for such a ludicrous reason. "don't be annoying."
he wasn't trying to be, this time. "okay," he whispers, "sorry."
you turn all of a sudden, shifting in his arms until you're facing him, with a light glare. another apology is on his lips when you crossly tell him, "i was kidding. you're not annoying."
"i can be. sometimes," he admits softly.
"no." you press a deep kiss to his lips, and he understands now why some humans would rather choose to drown under the sea instead of going back to the surface. "you're not annoying. you're never annoying. i love you. okay?"
his voice is choked the next time he speaks, with your face hidden in his neck, soft puffs of air on his neck letting him know that you're still breathing. a tear runs down his cheek.
"okay."
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thetriumphantpanda · 9 months
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you, her, me | joel & tommy miller
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Summary | It was never going to be as easy as getting pregnant on the first try. Tommy is away, working on some project out of town, when your next ovulation test tells you it's time to go. You resign yourself to another month without what you want the most, until Tommy suggests distance needn't change your plans.
Warnings | Y'all. You know what this is. Alcohol consumption, Girlfriend sharing, breeding kink, fingering (F), oral sex (F receiving), unprotected PiV sex, Tommy yet again getting cucked (but softly), phone sex, praise kink, Joel just being a fucking stud and a dirty talking menace once again. No use of Y/N, no outbreak AU.
Word Count | 3.8k
Authors Note | Well. Part one blew up, and it was never going to take first time around was it? Thank you for all the love on this first time around. Hope you enjoy this one just as much. If you like this, please consider reblogging, commenting or popping into my ask box with some love!
Part One | Main Masterlist
It’s not like you hadn’t expected it, but that single line on the pregnancy test still annoyed you. You’d done everything right, waited until the perfect possible time to let Joel fuck you and it still hadn’t taken. Tommy had been incredibly understanding, squeezing your arm and resigning both of you to the fact you’d just have to try again. Not that it would be a terrible thing to have to try again. Joel had been…. Well, Joel had been incredible, and if it were going to feel like that every time you had to try then you surely wouldn’t complain, especially if you could have Tommy’s eyes on you the whole time. 
That’s why, when you take the ovulation test the next month, and that smiling face is looking up at you, your stomach drops, because Tommy isn’t here. He’s gone for the whole week, working on some project out of town so Joel could stay with Sarah. You resign yourself to another month with an empty womb, throwing the test in the bin with fury. 
Tommy phones you that night, fills you in on his day on the jobsite, tells you exactly what he had for dinner, exactly what was on the TV, before he picks up something isn’t quite right on the other end of the phone. 
“What’s wrong, sugar?” His warm voice soothes down the phone pressed to your ear. 
“Nothing is wrong,” Your tone dismissive yet defensive, all at the same time, you sigh, this man knows you more intimately than anyone else, he knows something is wrong, “I took one of those stupid tests and it says it’s time to try again, guess I’m just frustrated that this is another month wasted.” 
He chuckles on the other end of the phone, “It doesn’t need to be wasted.” 
“But you aren’t here.” You point out. 
“Do I have to be?” You’re silent in response, “I don’t physically need to be there to keep an eye on things,” You can almost hear the smirk in his voice, “Or an ear.” 
The coffee you’re drinking splutters from your mouth as you cough, understanding exactly what Tommy is insinuating, “You want me to phone you?” You ask, making sure you’re understanding correctly, “Phone you whilst Joel fucks me?” 
“I sure do, sugar.” 
“And you’re cool with us being here alone?” 
“Shouldn’t I be?” He asks, “Like I said the first time, it doesn’t mean anything, I know he ain’t gonna try anythin’ stupid, so I don’t see why you shouldn’t be able to take what you want from him.” 
“Okay,” You relent after a few moments, “I’ll call him tomorrow, it’s getting late.” 
“Alright sugar,” Tommy replies, “Sleep tight and I’ll speak to you tomorrow.” 
You don’t know why, but it takes hours for you to build up enough courage to phone Joel. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to wait this month out, wait for Tommy so he could be here. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Joel, far from it, but there was something about knowing the love of your life was in the room whilst his brother tried to get you pregnant that put you as at ease with the situation as you could be. 
You’ve spoken to Joel countless times on the phone, but in order to even dial his number, it takes nearly 24 hours and a glass of wine. When you hold the phone to your ear, you almost hang up, but you leave it too long because Joel’s sweet Southern drawl is greeting you. 
“You alright, sweetheart?” 
“Oh yeah, I’m fine,” You reply, “How are you?” You curse yourself, inwardly cringing at how unsure you sound. 
“Yeah, m’all good over here,” He responds, “You need somethin’?” 
“Well, actually yeah, I do,” You rub at the back of your neck, “I um… I did one of those tests and it says I’m good to go, to like, try again, so yeah, this is me phoning to say that and make a really fucking terrible job of asking if you’d help again.” 
You hear him chuckle on the other end of the phone, “Sarah’s at a sleepover tonight, I can be with you in an hour?” 
“Okay, yeah, that sounds good, I’ll see you in a while.” 
“See you soon, pretty girl.” 
Pretty girl? Fucking hell. Joel had always been a flirt, smiles and smirks and little nicknames, but he’d never once crossed the line with you. Knew you had eyes for his little brother, would never get in the way of that. He’d never crossed that line until you’d invited him, point blank to do so. You had to remind yourself that he was only doing you a favour. A really massive, incredibly fucked up favour, but a favour none-the-less, and once that had been achieved that was it. He’d just go back to basically being your brother-in-law, wouldn’t he? 
An hour later, you’d swapped the wine for a glass of whiskey, just like the first time. There’s a tentative knock at the door, which has you downing the last of the liquid before you open the door for Joel. He’s similarly dressed as last time, dark jeans and a flannel shirt open over a dark t-shirt. He’d obviously showered before coming over, hair mostly dry apart from the very ends of his curls. These damn Miller brother’s won the gene jackpot because in the setting sun, Joel is fucking beautiful. 
He leans down, pulling you into a hug, “Evenin’, darlin’,” He whispers into your ear before letting you go, “You gonna invite me in?” He asks, when you don’t move to let him in. 
“Oh, yeah, sorry!” You exclaim, stepping back, “Come on in.” 
When you close the door behind him and turn around, you can feel the tension in the air. He’s wandering aimlessly through the open living space, standing with his hands in his pockets. It’s weird. You can feel the butterflies settling into your tummy already. 
“You know, you don’t need to make me feel good, right?” You muse, stepping from foot to foot by the door, “You can just fuck me and leave.” 
His head drops as he snorts through his nose, “Darlin’, I can’t in good conscience let you conceive a child if you don’t come at least twice.” 
“But….” 
Joel interrupts, “Answer me this, pretty girl,” He growls, “If I were Tommy right now, how many would he give you?” 
You think for a moment, “Probably three,” You shrug, “Once with his fingers, once with his mouth, then he’d make me come on his cock.” 
He smirks, knowing you’ve proven his point, “Well then, get that pretty ass over here and let me make you feel good.” 
He’s holding out a hand for you, coaxing you to come towards him, which you take gladly, suddenly feeling like you’re in some weird form of trance. He takes your hand in his, leads to you the couch and sits down. You’re standing in front of him, his face level with your tummy. He takes those wide palms and drags them up the backs of your legs, under the material of your dress to settle on the supple skin of your ass. 
“I gotta call Tommy,” You speak quietly, “Wanted to listen in.” 
“You can call him in a minute,” Joel’s voice is commanding as he kisses your tummy through the material of your dress, “Let me give you one first, get you nice and relaxed, yeah?” 
Joel puts his palms on your hips and turns you around, puts his fingers into the waistband of your underwear and drags them down your legs. When they pool at your feet, you step out of them, Joel’s hands keeping you balanced before he’s pulling you down onto his lap. He’s got his legs closed together, yours straddling either side of his. One of his hands is pressed on your tummy, pulling you flush back into him, the other is already snaking between your thighs, held open by his legs in the middle. 
You take a deep breath, and let yourself sink into his body, broad chest acting as a weighted comfort. His lips start to trail hot kisses down the side of your neck and onto your shoulder as he runs his fingers down the seam of your pussy. Joel’s fingers dip just below, and you hear him gasp and then chuckle when you’re already wet. 
“Pretty girl,” He coos into your ear, “You been thinkin’ about me? Thinkin’ about how good I made you feel last time?” 
You don’t reply, just tip your head back to rest on Joel’s shoulder, sighing in pleasure as he drags his fingers through the folds of your pussy, fingers brushing ever so gently across your clit, “So fuckin’ wet for me, darlin’,” He groans, letting his fingers dip back down, “So wet, so easy for me to do this.” 
He slips two fingers inside your pussy with ease, immediately hooking them in just the right way that has you keening, hips bucking in time with his slow thrusts. The hand he had on your tummy is moving downwards now too, dragging slowly across your mound until he’s got his middle finger touching your clit, two fingers still buried inside you. 
“Joel – fuck – Oh God.” You moan, his fingers applying more pressure to your clit now, setting your skin aflame. 
“You like that, huh?” His lips are still trailing hot kisses along the skin of your neck and shoulders, “Can feel that pretty pussy clenchin’ around my fingers already,” You can feel his smirk on your skin, “Gonna be so easy to finish you off, pretty girl.” 
He proves his point in minutes. His fingers begin speeding up, thrusting into your aching heat, curling just right to his that spot inside you, whilst his finger doesn’t let up with its tight circles across your clit. 
“I’m gonna – fuck Joel, I’m gonna come.” 
“That’s it baby girl,” His voice is low and you can feel his solid cock under your ass already, “Let go for me.” 
You do just that. Thighs shaking, Joel’s name falling from your mouth as your first orgasm slams right into you. He’s pulled his fingers from your pussy, walls clenching around nothing, but his fingers are still tracing those gentle movements along your clit, working you through the aftershocks. Once he’s sure he’s milked you for every second of your orgasm, he presses a chaste kiss to your cheek. 
“Up you get.” He taps his hand on your thigh, helping you to stand. 
He switches your places, you sit on the couch, legs spread with your wet cunt on display, him dropping to his knees in front of you, hooking your legs over his shoulders. You’ve barely had time to catch your breath before his mouth presses a soft kiss to your clit that has an obscene moan dropping from your lips. 
“Phone him,” Joel murmurs against your skin, motioning to your mobile phone on the side table, “Bet he’d love listening to you gettin’ your pussy ate.” 
You push yourself up just far enough to be able to grab your phone, fumbling with the keys as Joel continues to press teasing kisses along the skin of your thighs. You hit dial on Tommy’s number, listening as it rings three times before he picks up. 
“Hey sugar.” He greets. 
Joel can obviously hear his brother’s voice, because he chooses this moment to take his tongue and lick a wide stripe up your sex with the flat of his tongue, dipping between your folds to flick your clit. 
“Hey baby,” You reply, looking down at Joel’s face between your legs, “Your brother is here.” 
“That so?” You can hear him shuffling about on the other end, “You wanna tell me what he’s doin’?” 
Joel uses one of his big hands to spread your pussy open for him, taking his tongue all the way down to your weeping core, where he literally drinks from you, lapping up your slick like he’s gone forty days and forty nights without water. 
“He’s got his face between my legs Tommy,” You groan, “Eating my pussy so fucking well for me.” 
“Let me hear you, sugar,” Tommy coaxes, “He makin’ you feel good?” 
Joel’s tongue works its way up your pussy, tracing circles over your sensitive clit with the tip of his tongue. You let out an obscene moan down the phone, hips moving towards Joel’s face to chase more. You need more. You want more. His mouth needs to be closer to you. 
“So good baby,” You moan, free hand tangling in Joel’s hair, as he focuses all the attention of his tongue to your clit, “He’s going to make me come.” 
“Go on baby,” Tommy speaks, you can hear the clinking of his belt in the distance, and you know exactly what he’s going, “Let go for him.” 
Joel doesn’t even have to add his fingers to the equation this time. He wraps those perfect lips around your clit and sucks, tongue still flicking desperately over the sensitive bud, and you’re gone. Body arching off the couch, thighs clasped around his face as you cry out. You can hear Tommy on the other end of the phone chuckling, coaxing you through it, telling you what a good girl you’ve been. 
Joel finishes between your thighs with a final kiss to your clit before he’s pushing himself up off the floor. You’re taking deep breathes, pulling the phone from your ear to put Tommy on speaker phone, setting the phone back down on the side table while you stand, shedding your dress to leave you completely naked in front of Joel. He eyes you as he takes off his own clothes, letting out a low whistle, turning his head to the phone. 
“Fuckin’ hell brother,” He comments, letting a low whistle out, “You’re a lucky son of a bitch, getting to see her naked like this every day.” 
The tinny reverb of Tommy’s voice barking a laugh down the phone makes you smile. The way these two men have opened up and worshipped you, both in their own ways, but worship none the less, makes you feel like a goddess. Makes you swell with pride. You watch intently as Joel sheds the last of his clothes, letting your eyes drag over every inch of skin he reveals to you as each second passes. Then, once he’s as naked as you are, cock sprung to attention, he sits himself back down on the couch, guiding you to straddle his hips. 
“Gonna take what you want from me, pretty girl?” Joel asks, looking up at you with those big brown eyes, his big hands are guiding your hips, head of his cock nudging through the wetness of your slick cunt to push ever so slightly inside you. 
You let yourself sink fully down onto him, throwing your head back as that feeling off fullness you remember from last time. Joel drags his hands up your body, resting both on your ribcage, head coming forward to capture one of your tits in his mouth, sucking a nipple into his mouth to shower attention to it with his tongue. 
You grind your hips into his own, reveling in the way his palms squeeze your sides, teeth sinking into the skin of your breast. You settle your arms around Joel’s neck, one hand tangling in the curls at the nape of his neck as you lean back a little, hips grinding into his. The angle has you grinding your clit into his skin in just the right way. 
“Fuck,” He hisses, pulling himself away from you, “You’re gonna come again, aren’t you?” He teases, “I can feel that cunt clenching my cock baby.” 
You can hear Tommy groan on the phone, “Sugar, you’re so easy to please.” He speaks out from the side table. 
Joel’s hands grip your hips, guiding you to keep grinding on his cock like you are. It’s overwhelming, there is no other thought in your mind right now other than chasing the next high you can feel building in your lower body. Focused on nothing but grinding your body into Joel’s solid presence underneath you. Focused on listening to Tommy continuously praise you for being a perfect girl for them both. 
“Tommy, fuck-” Joel breathes out, “I wish you could see her right now; she looks so fuckin’ good bouncing on my cock.” 
“Brother, I get to see her like this all the time,” He groans, “You enjoy her for yourself right now.” 
“Joel- please…” You beg, orgasm so close you could reach out and touch it, “I’m so fucking close.” 
“Go on, pretty girl,” Hands on your ass to continue the guiding of your movements, “I know you can do it for me.” 
And he’s right. He’s always fucking right. You grind yourself into him a few more times before white spots burst into your vision, and you feel yourself let go in a way you’ve never known before. Slick dripping down Joel’s cock, a literally scream on your lips as he pulls your body to his, finally slamming his cock into your tight cunt in earnest. 
“There’s three, baby girl.” He whispers into your ear, just for you to hear. His brother doesn’t need to know he’s issued himself a personal challenge to make you come more than he does. That’s just for the two of you to know. 
Your forehead is rested on his, cock stilled inside you to give you a moment to gather yourself. When you look into his eyes there’s something in those brown orbs, something daring you to lean forward. Press your lips to his own and let him devour you entirely. Let him have every piece of you. You almost do it, then you hear Tommy moan on the other end of the phone, breaking the spell between you and Joel. 
Something snaps behind his eyes. He gathers you, flipping you over until he has your legs hooked around his elbows, pussy spread for him, bent almost in half before he slams his thick cock into you, setting a bruising pace that has your breath hitching in your throat. It’s so hard and intense that tears are gathering in the corners of your eyes. The sounds of Joel’s skin slapping against you and his groans, your high-pitched whines drown out any noise that Tommy might be making over the phone. 
“Don’t worry,” Joel manages to breath out, seeing the tears dripping down your face, “Gonna give you what you need, hot mama.” 
“Please,” You beg, the sound hitting your own ears, weak and pathetic and truly at this man’s mercy, “Fill me up Joel, fuck a baby into me.” 
“Touch yourself,” He demands, “You got one more for me, I know you do, pretty girl.” 
It takes all your strength to do as he asks, fingers seeking out your clit. The touch you place to it is blurring the line between pleasure and pain, but when Joel is looking down at you like he is now, watching his cock split you in half, watching your face as you moan, touching yourself, you resign yourself to keep going, chase one more high with him. 
He drops one of your legs from its place hooked around his elbow, big hand coming to rest over your tummy, “Fuck Tommy,” He calls out, clearly only moments away from coming deep inside you, his fingers stroking the soft skin as his eyes train on your belly, “She’s gonna look so good when I finally knock her up for you, all swollen and perfect.” 
It’s the image that finishes you off this time. You close your eyes tight, pulling your hand from your clit as soon as you’re arching up into Joel, calling his name into the dark of the room, hands gripping at his biceps, nails forming perfect half-moons in his skin.  
“Good girl,” Joel praises, “Gonna fill you up now baby, you ready for me?” 
“Give it to me,” you demand, hands flying to grip the cheeks of his ass, bringing him in closer to you, “Joel please.” 
You don’t need to ask twice. Joel stills inside your spent cunt and you can feel his cock throbbing inside you, coating your walls with his seed. He rests his head on your chest, pulling in as much breath as he can, before he’s groaning, pulling himself out of you. He leans over and picks up the phone, taking it off speaker to hand it to you, then he disappears to the kitchen. 
“You okay, sugar?” Tommy asks, voice soft at the other end of the phone. 
“Yeah, I’m good,” You mumble, closing your spread legs and bringing them up to your chest, trying to keep as much of Joel’s cum inside you as possible, “Tired.” 
“Did so good for us again, didn’t you?” You smile, responding with a quiet ‘mmm hmm’, “Yeah that’s right, so good for me sugar,” He clears his throat on the other end of the phone, “You make sure Joel gets you to bed alright?” Another response that’s just a noise from you, “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 
You mumble a goodbye and hang up the phone, just in time for Joel to appear with a glass of water. He sits on the edge of the couch, helping you to sit up so you can take big gulps of the liquid. One of his hands is settled on your thigh, rubbing soothing circles with his thumb. 
“Y’alright?” He asks. 
“Yeah, I’m good,” You smile, “Tommy says you have to put me to bed.” 
Joel chuckles, “Course he did,” He stands, taking the almost empty glass from your hand before he slips one arm under your knees, the other across the small of your back, lifting you easily from the couch, “Come on then.” 
He walks you up the stairs and into your bedroom. You’re warm and pliant and you smile as he pulls the duvet up and over you, settling you into bed with a soft kiss pressed to your forehead, “I’ll see you in the morning, pretty girl.” He muses as you drift off to sleep. 
Joel lifts himself from the bed when your breathing settles, stopping briefly to look at you from the doorway before he heads back downstairs and dresses himself. He pours himself a glass of Tommy’s finest whiskey, letting his head drop to the back of the couch. He would stay tonight, downstairs, just in case you needed someone. Just in case you woke up and needed someone to soothe you. He didn’t know how Tommy had been last time once he’d gone home but he bets you needed the comfort. Someone to tell you it would be alright, that you’d done the right thing. It takes all his strength not to stand, strip his clothes back off and settle himself in bed behind you, strong arms wrapped around you to keep you safe. Make you feel secure. He would stay here tonight, just in case you needed him. 
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upsidedownwithsteve · 9 months
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CH.3 Sunny Side Up | The Menu [4.3K] Eddie Munson x shy fem!reader: a line cook au.
Talking to Eddie became a little easier after that night. Just a little. You greeted each other on morning shifts with tired nods, maybe a small ‘hi’ from you, a grunt from him that you’d learned not to take offence to. You’d watched time and time again as Jonathan brought his coffee to the kitchen, handing Eddie a mocha full of chocolate syrup and the boy received another grunt in thanks too. 
The diner became more familiar, as did your colleagues and it made your heart ache a little when you realised you melted into their routines, their little world as easily as they did with each other. Steve knew your favourite song, liked to turn it up when it came on the radio, pointing at you with enough fanfare to make you flush when he sang the lyrics into the end of a wooden spoon. 
Robin had invited you to hers, an unofficial girls night after a Sunday late shift that became a habit without meaning to. You shared her apartment space the way she shared yours, leftover pyjama shirts in each other's drawers, rented movies swapped between television sets. And at times, when she was home from college, Nancy would join you both, curled on the loveseat with Robin as they listened to your horror stories from Chicago. 
Argyle would offer you rides to work, always passing you on the days you missed the bus, pulling over his brightly painted van with a lazy grin and a yell of “jump in my ‘lil Chicago pizza.”
It was easy, comfortable, a slow kind of life that you craved in the city, the long days and quiet nights that you were more suited to. Hawkins was far from the white picket fence dream, but you loved your little apartment with its view of the cornfields, the long road out of town that you knew took you to work. And when the bus stopped on Sundays and you walked to the diner, you’d pass that old garage the same way you did on your first day in town and wave to Wayne. 
It was easy. It was simple. 
That Tuesday, you clocked in early after swapping a shift with Nancy, the heat rolling into the side door with you as the sun rose. It was the earliest you’d started and the diner was still quiet, a lack of customers between the midnight hours that the truckers frequented and the breakfast rush. The radio was up louder than usual, the smell of fresh bread coming from the ovens, a huge bowl of batter on the counter beside some chopped strawberries, glittering with sugar. 
“Hey! Hey what's the matter with you, feel right? Don't you feel right, baby?”
You could see Jonathan in the front of the diner, setting clean tables with new cutlery, Argyle trailing behind him - not necessarily helping, but definitely talking animatedly about something. Jim was in his office, groaning over receipts and copies of everyone’s vacation requests, two empty mugs of coffee in front of him. You weren’t sure where Ed—
“Jesus, watch it!”
You gasped on instinct as someone collided with your shoulder, a dull pain that wasn’t all that sore but scared you nonetheless. Eddie was glaring at you, holding a hot tray of morning rolls aloft with a dish towel. 
“I could’ve fucking burnt you,” he snapped, setting them down on his station with a clatter. 
You winced, an apology on your tongue, already tasting sour. “I’m sorry, I didn’t— I didn’t hear you say corner, or, or door or—”
You watched as Eddie’s frown disappeared momentarily, a soft drop of his expression that made you realise at the same time he did, that he didn’t give any of those warnings at all. You thought he’d apologise then, maybe back track with a rare smile but instead his scowl deepened and he set about pulling ingredients out of the fridge. 
“Stumbling ‘round like a baby deer, man,” Eddie huffed, his voice low, like you maybe weren’t meant to hear. But you did. “Gonna end up seriously hurtin’ yourself— or someone else. Not supposed to be in the damn kitchen, told you you weren’t made out f—”
Tears burned the corners of your eyes at the first sign of conflict but your heart pounded and you let yourself get wound up. You squared your shoulders, sucked in a breath and let the sting of your eyes and the lump in your throat fuel you. “Hey!” You snapped, only sounding a little watery, a little soft. “It wasn’t— it wasn’t my fault. You’re supposed to tell someone you’re coming if you’re holding something.” You blew out a breath, acutely aware of how Eddie was watching you with raised brows. “Especially something hot. And I don’t stumble.”
You glared right back at the boy, hoping you looked as intimidating as he did, throwing your hands on your hips for good measure until you felt too much like your mom and dropped them back by your side. You squirmed in the silence, pulling self-consciously at the hem of your uniform dress, still trying to keep your lips in an annoyed flat line, your brows as turned down as Eddie’s. Eddie scoffed and rolled his eyes, throwing a pound of butter into a huge mixing bowl. It made the station shake with a thud and he turned his back to you before he spoke, shoulders stiff, a tattoo that curled up from his back to the nape of his neck just visible for the way he’d pulled his curl up in a bun. 
“Why are you always in such a bad mood? Huh? And I’m allowed in the kitchen,” you added, hating that you sounded haughty, but fuck this boy and his attitude problem. The hot and cold act was starting to wear thin. “I work here too.”
He turned then, the sleeves of his chef whites rolled up to his elbows, ropes of muscle and lines of ink curling around his forearms. His fingers were covered in butter and sugar, and when he took a few steps closer, brows raised at you in a challenge, he smelled like cinnamon. “That right, sweetheart?”
You didn’t back down, even though your stomach flipped. You lifted your chin higher, tried to give it back to him as good as he gave it out. “You think I come here for the good of my health?” You wanted to bite, you wanted to sink your teeth in and draw blood. You wanted to hurt. The taste of honey on fresh sourdough lingered on your tongue.  “I heard the food is shit.”
Eddie’s nostrils flared at your childish barb, but as immature as it was, the boy gritted his teeth and stormed back to the work station. The bowls clattered against each, steel on steel and the spatula he’d been using got launched into the empty sink. 
“Just stay out my way,” Eddie grunted. 
 The sharpness of his words made your throat tight, face scrunching unhappily because what had you ever done to him? You decided not to answer, pressing your lips together instead and hoping Eddie didn’t see your watery eyes when you stalked past his table. You ducked into the office, slamming your locker door as you shoved your bag inside, shouldering into Steve by accident on the way back out. 
“Oh, sorry— hey, hey,” Steve frowned, catching sight of your face. “What’s wrong?”
You didn’t answer, just smiling and shrugging him off, already pulling out your pad and pen from the front of your apron, as if the quiet diner was suddenly full of people who were desperate for their orders to be taken. You didn’t look at Eddie as you left, disappearing between the table and booths, hoping for something to clean until a table filled up. 
You didn’t see it, you didn’t hear it, but Steve walked to Eddie’s station with a scowl that matched the other boy’s and stole the spoon that was in his hand. 
“Hey!” Eddie’s head shot up, eyes narrowed, ready for a fight. “Give me th—”
“Stop being a dick,” Steve scolded, holding the spoon over his head when Eddie tried to grab it across the bench. “You’re being an ass, man. And for what?”
Eddie glared, reaching for the stolen utensil and swearing when Steve rapped the back of his knuckles with it. “What’re you even talkin’ about?”
Steve scoffed, “don’t act dumb, Munson, it isn’t cute. What have you got against the new girl?”
Eddie didn’t answer, giving up and crossing the kitchen to rake through a drawer for another spoon instead. He stalked to the refrigerator too, still scowling, piling more ingredients in his arms as he went. He walked back to Steve with eggs and fruit, jars of spices that were all different colours. Steve was still standing, shirt sleeves rolled up, his name badge on upside down. 
“Well?”
“Steve, just—” Eddie let out a huff and set a pan on the stovetop, flicking on the switches until a blue flame appeared. It bloomed into red, orange and Eddie spooned some butter into the pan. “I don’t have anything against her.” His cheeks were hot, he could feel it. A pink flush that went across his nose and attacked the tips of his ears. He cracked an egg too vigorously, shell in the yolk, making it burst. He swore. 
“No?” Steve didn’t look convinced. He handed Eddie back his spoon. “Doing your damn best to convince her otherwise. Poor kid looked like she was about to cry.”
Eddie’s eyes shuttered closed at that, guilt gnawing a hole in his chest. He cracked another egg, watched it turn white over the heat. He really wanted a cigarette. 
The bell for the diner door rang, signalling the arrival of customers, a bleary eyed bunch of business men that looked like they were from out of town. Their suits were too sharp, close shaven beards and briefcases making them look like sore thumbs against the garish decor and sticky booth seats. Both boy’s watched you approach their table, smiling sweetly and nodding shyly as you scribbled down their orders. When you turned to head to the hatch, a piece of paper ready to be slapped onto the stainless steel bar, Eddie watched as the men eyed your behind, appreciative faces and shared whispers about the way your legs looked in your dress. 
He cracked another egg, eyes narrowed, chest tighter than before. 
“Say sorry,” Steve finalised the conversation with a friendly slap to Eddie’s shoulder as he passed him. You were only a few tables away, head ducked down, eyes hidden as you approached. Steve looked serious as he said, “fix it.”
—————
By the time the clock hit eleven am, Jonathan was coaxing you into going for your break, handing your orders to Steve as he cleared the table your customers just left. He waved away your protests, voice quiet and soft as he handed you the dollar notes that were left for you beside a ketchup stain. 
“I’ve got it,” he tsked. “Go on, go get some food or somethin’.”
So you smiled and pulled off your apron as you headed through the back, already sipping on a glass of lemon water you’d poured yourself at the bar. You could hear Steve greet a family at the front door, all charm and sweetness, and the radio in the kitchen was still playing. Breakfast was almost over but the place still smelled sweet, syrup and cinnamon, cooked pancakes and fresh bread, maple bacon that the diners always ordered an extra plate of. 
Argyle was at the sink, washing a pot and he smiled as you walked across the tiles. “Wassup Chicago town?” There were bubbles on his arms, a walkman clipped to the waistband of his chef whites and headphones around his neck. “You lookin’ for Eddie?”
You frowned without meaning to, wondering if you could get away with pinching some leftover breakfast without anyone realising. Jim didn’t mind, but Eddie was way too particular with his leftovers. 
“Uh, no,” you answered. “Should I be?”
“Think he was lookin’ for you.”
You didn’t get to ask anymore questions, or even laugh at the idea of the chef seeking you out, because Eddie was coming back out from the pantry with a new bag of sugar. His eyes flitted to you as he walked to his bench, cheeks a little pink and he sprinkled some of it over a bowl of chopped fruit before he said anything. He nodded to the stool he made you sit on the other day, the one at his station and it was only then you noticed there was a plate sitting. 
Two perfectly cooked eggs, sunny side up with a huge slice of orange that was arranged like a smile. There was a single blueberry in the middle of the plate, plucked from the bowl that Eddie placed beside it, finishing off the smiley faced breakfast. 
“You hungry?” Eddie murmured, his voice softer than it had been when you last ran into him. He kept his head bent, curls framing his brown eyes, lips twisted. “You didn’t have breakfast.” 
“Wh—?” Your lips parted, your apron still fisted in your hand and you rounded the station slowly, eyes on the boy like you were waiting for the joke to land. 
Eddie’s gaze shot from you to the stool and he tilted his chin once more. “Sit.” His demand wasn’t bossy, despite the bluntness. His voice was so much more gentle than you’d heard it before. The frown was still there, the stitch between his brows but his eyes looked softer, honeyed caramel, brown sugar, the stickiest kind of toffee. “Gonna get cold.”
So you sat, looking behind you to glance at Argyle, wondering if this was strange enough for him to take notice too. Sure enough, the boy had stopped scrubbing, his hands still in the hot water as steam rose up around his confused face. He was watching the both of you, eyes glancing between you and Eddie as he tried to work out what was happening. 
Eddie turned his back on you as you stared down at the meal he’d made you, eyes still wide and something inside of you sank at the idea of his walking away. But he spun back, a fork and knife in his hand, wrapped in a napkin. He didn’t hand them to you, but he slid them across the counter, his expression neutral - you couldn’t work him out. 
“Thank you,” you whispered and Eddie nodded. You wondered if Steve and Jonathan got their breakfast made for them when they went on break, if they came into the kitchen to a bowl of fresh fruit - mangoes and berries and brightly coloured slices of citrus. You thought it would be best not to ask. “Looks good.”
Eddie hummed and nodded, waiting until you picked up your cutlery and unfurled it from the wrapping. He made his leave then, cheeks pink, curls going a little frizzy in the heat and he ducked away, picking up a crate that he took into the freezer, the large door thumping behind him. 
The napkin fell to the table as you took out your fork, marvelling over the way the yolk burst perfectly as you dug in, golden liquid pooling across your plate. You picked up the blueberry nose before it got caught, popping it into your mouth and humming at the flavour. And when you looked down, there was a word scrawled across the napkin, faded black ink on white tissue. 
“Sorry.”
—————
Eddie made sure he waited long enough for you to be gone by the time he appeared from the walk-in, nose red with the cold, skin goose pimpled under his uniform - because fucking hell, why did he decide to hide in the freezer? He came back out warily, keeping his back against the tiled wall as he peered around the corner. You were gone from his station, your twenty minute break already over and he could see your empty plate and bowl stacked at the sink beside Argyle.  
He squared his shoulders and tried to act normal as he stomped back into his kitchen, frown set back on his face but his heart was thundering. It made him feel ill, the way his chest got right, the way his stomach flipped. His station was clear of your plates, but you’d left the napkin there, the corner of it tucked under a plastic quart container so it didn’t float away. 
There, in your much neater handwriting and the pink pen you liked to take orders with, was a reply to the boy’s scrawled apology. 
“Thank you.”
Eddie stared at the words for too long, until the rosy coloured ink went blurry and his cheeks turned the same shade. He wasn’t sure where you’d gone, but he could smell perfume he assumed was yours, lingering between the stacks of chopped strawberries, the halved mango on the counter. 
“You got a crush, my friend?” 
Eddie’s head snapped up, a scowl set back on his face instinctually. He liked Argyle, he didn’t mind him at all, but the boy was standing by the sink and was looking at him knowingly. Argyle grinned and raised his brows, waiting for Eddie to answer. 
“What? No.” Eddie slammed the napkin back down on the desk. Argyle was still grinning. “Shut up.” Eddie waited until the other boy returned to the dishes before he took the napkin and folded it up, tucking it into his pocket. 
He’d bin it later, he told himself. It wasn’t a big deal. 
—————
The day Eddie was scheduled off on the rota was a much busier day. It seemed like bad luck, the main cook’s day off coinciding with the monthly farmers market that was set up in Hawkin’s Main Street. The square was filled with stalls, fresh fruit and vegetables in crates, the smell of homemade soap, lavender and rose on the breeze. The tiny storefronts helped funnel the crowds in the direction of the diner, lines of cars driving to the restaurant for breakfast, their trunks full of fresh goods and Mrs Sinclair’s apple pie slices. 
It meant your day went too fast, the tips good and the chance of a break slim. Argyle was pushed to his limit, the freezer used more than ever as the full tables called for a quicker turnaround, the frozen burger patties being used instead of the way Eddie liked to make each one fresh. But Eddie wasn’t here and you certainly weren’t thinking about him, so he didn’t need to know. And when your shift ended at five, the dinner rush was just as crazy so you stayed on until six and helped Nancy clear a table of twelve guests, two families from out of town that had too many kids and there were lines of coloured crayon along the walls that just wouldn’t shift until you gave in and brought out a bottle of bleach. 
She was grateful enough that she split the table’s tip with you, something you tried to wave away but she insisted and stuffed the dollar bills into the front of your apron, not caring about the stains, the dryer grease, the spilled coffee there. Nancy looked just as undone as you. But it had been a good day - you missed the chance to eat, and maybe get something made for you by Eddie - but you had enough cash rolled up in your purse to start a new stack in your freezer at home and the bus back into town should be due any min—
The bus rolled past before you could get to the stop, the tires squeaking in protest as it passed you by, your feet not able to take you out of the parking lot quick enough. And it was still fine, there was still a little light in the sky, that navy-lilac kinda way that told you nightfall was coming soon, or maybe rain. Maybe both. 
So you pulled the strap of your bag across your chest and wished your uniform wasn’t as starchy and tight, ‘cause the heat still lingered even in the evening, warmth collecting in the shadows even as indigo coloured clouds rolled in above. The rain didn’t hit until ten minutes into your walk, a Misty drizzle that had you scrunching your face until it turned into a downpour. A heavy summer storm where thunder shouted at you from the distance, way out across the cornfields and making the sky flash white. You ran down the sidewalk where there weren’t many places to stop, to shelter and you suddenly wished more than ever that you still had your shitty old car that you barely needed to use when you lived in Chicago. 
But the garage was coming up, a familiar building with peeling red paint on its walls and a huge shutter that was already closed a third of the way. You hoped and prayed that Wayne was still around, wondering if it would be too cheeky to ask if you could finally take him up on the offer of that ride he once asked if you needed. Weeks of passing by and waving to him - and offering a snickerdoodle from the box you once took into work for Jonathan’s birthday - had built up a quiet sort of friendship. 
The garage was quiet and the bell sounded as you pushed open the door, the workshop floor stained with oil and paint, leftover footprints that would never clean off. Cars sat asleep, some with their hoods up, engines ripped out and dismantled on the floor, and thank god, there was still a light on in the office. A warm glow through a window, the outline of a man sorting through papers and his head lifted when he heard you bump into the side of a workbench, a tool you didn’t know the name of clattering to the floor. 
You winced and raised your hand in a greeting and an apology. “Sorry, hi— I just— it’s raining.”
Wayne laughed after he got over his surprise, beckoning you in with an oil stained hand. His tiny office smelled like gas and burnt tires but his smile was as friendly and tired as it always was. “Miss the bus?” He asked. 
You nodded, crossing your arms over your chest. Out of the summer air, the garage was cooler and you were drenched, goosebumps trailing across your forearms. “Drove right by me.”
Wayne tutted, sympathetic and he pushed what looked like a stack of invoices into a tray for tomorrow. “That’ll be that Hagan boy, never should’ve been allowed the job. Doesn’t pay any darned attention to nobody.” The man patted down his pockets, searching for his keys. “Jus’ gimme a minute and I’ll drop you off, think the boy took my damn keys. Hey, son—”
Another figure appeared in the doorway, cutting off Wayne’s call. This man was tall and broad shouldered, with dark curls that weren’t tied back. They hit his shoulders, wild strands springing around brown eyes that quickly widened at the sight of you. 
“What the fuck are you doin’ here?”
“Hey!” Wayne snapped with a frown. He whacked the boy’s shoulder with a rolled up newspaper he grabbed from his desk. “That’s no way to speak to a lady. I raised you better than that, you little delinquent.”
Eddie looked astonishingly different out of his chef whites and your surprise showed on your face. Out of his uniform, you could see more skin, more ink. Tattoos curling around his forearms and creeping up towards his biceps, black leaking across lithe muscles that you didn’t get to see at work. He was all dark, black jeans with rips in the knees, a black T-shirt that was well worn, the band logo on the front unrecognisable from wear and from the fact that your music taste was wildly different. 
Jewellery he didn’t get to wear glitter on him, silver rings on almost every finger, skulls and orjer horned things around his knuckles, a silver chain peeking out from underneath his collar. There was a hole in the hem of his shirt, heavy scuff marks on his big boots. He was still scowling at you though, a familiar sight that made him look more like the Eddie you knew. 
You glanced at Wayne, still confused as to why he was scolding the line cook from your work. You looked back to Eddie, lips trying to wrap around an explanation. He made you feel like you weren’t supposed to be here. “I— the bus. I missed the bus.” You swallowed, an awful shyness coming over you, or maybe it was nerves. “It’s raining.”
The weather was making itself known as the storm closed in, heavy, fat drops of rain pounding on the tin roof of the garage, a deafening roar that only got heavier. 
“Yeah, no shit.” Eddie called back, raising his voice to be heard over the din and his cheek got him another smack from Wayne. 
“You better hope I don’t find out you talk like that in the kitchen, boy,” Wayne pointed an accusatory finger at Eddie, to which the boy merely rolled his eyes at. “I’ll ask Jim, he’ll tell me.” When Eddie didn’t reply, Wayne pulled on his jacket and set about collecting more sheets of paper. He asked Eddie for his keys and pocketed them before saying, “Ed’s, be a good ‘un and take my friend here home, yeah? I gotta finish up this mess.”
When Eddie raised his brows and dropped his jaw, you were pretty sure your expression was the same. Except you were burning, both at the embarrassment of Wayne being so sweet and the idea of having to spend time with Eddie alone. 
“Friend?” Eddie scoffed. “Since when?”
You wanted the floor to open up below you. “I can, I can just walk.” You jammed a thumb at the door, at the torrential rain that was still falling angrily outside of it. “I think the rain has stopped…”
Thunder bellowed from above. A leak in the corner of the work floor dripped onto an old tire. Wayne stared at you both, unimpressed. 
And that’s how you ended up in the passenger seat of Eddie’s van. 
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Text
A Sticky Situation
Wriothesley x Fem! Reader
Summary: With the sticker count rising higher and higher that week, it has finally reached a point where Wriothesley needed it to slow down for his sanity.
Words: 1,766
AN: I love stickers. I want to join Sigewinne in her bet.
Wriothesely had found what had to be the fifth sticker he had peeled off of his jacket just that morning alone. Not to mention it was the forty-second sticker that week and it was only Thursday morning. Usually, this prank from Sigewinne and the other Melusine wouldn’t bother him too much. It was harmless after all. But Forty-Two Stickers??? All in the same week?
Was it always this many and people were taking them off for him without telling him in pity? No, he would have noticed that if that was the case. It wasn’t like Sigewinne also had more Melusine friends visiting her more than normal. Maybe he really was a bad influence on Sigewinne if her bets had gone this far. Hopefully, that would be the extent of his influence and nothing else.
The one question he couldn’t get out of his mind besides how they were getting so many stickers was, where they were getting so many stickers from. It wasn’t like they got this many stickers sent down here from the overworld or that Sigewinne had the time to make so many stickers. And he hadn’t seen many of Sigewinne’s friends come to the Fortress of Meropide that week. It had to be Sigewinne who was currently winning that bet.
None of it made sense at this point. And what didn’t make even more sense was that he just found a sixth sticker on his boot. Maybe it was time to at least slow her pranks down. He wouldn’t stop them but this was starting to get disruptive. At least make her understand not to sticker on the leather of clothes. It never felt like it cleaned off right. He just hoped by bringing it up the sticker amount would go down instead of jumping it up higher as a challenge.
Making his way out of his office he took a glance around his surroundings. A peak over at the cafeteria had him spotting exactly who he wanted to talk to. Sigewinne was talking to her pharmacist friend from the overworld, a lovely woman who had taken it upon herself to sub in to try and help give Sigewinne a break to join her Melusine friends in the overworld. It made Y/N quite helpful as well if Sigewinne ever requested a set of extra hands as she was more comfortable around the Fortress than anyone else they would send down.
She flipped through a book leaning down just enough to show Sigewinne without causing her to strain her neck. Whatever the two were discussing had caused them to laugh aloud. “Personally, this one is my favorite. Its eyes are bigger than the shark's body."
Yeah, that was different from the normal pharmaceutical talk he never followed along with. It's easy to lose track of everything being referred to in great detail due to its chemical composition. This conversation even a child could follow.
"I take it your lunch went well.” He said making his presence known. 
Y/N closed up the book the two were going through handing it off to Sigewinne before standing straight up. “It did. I brought some muffins I bought down to share. How’s your day going so far your Grace?” She looked at him and smiled.
His eyes followed the book that had been handed off. “It's been okay.” He looked back up at Y/N’s face. “What happened to you thinking calling me that was weird?”
“You’re working at the moment. I can respect the professionalism within it even if it feels weird to say. Sigewinne and I were just finishing up.” She bit her lip holding her smile from getting any bigger.
“Anything you need?” Sigewinne asked making sure that the plain back of the book was facing his line of sight. She counted the stickers she could still see on him. There were 4 left. 5 if the one she placed on his chair made it on him.
“Can you at least not place any stickers on leather?” He bargained.
“Hmmm. I don’t see any on leather.” He must have peeled most of those ones off already. Pity. 
“I’ve counted forty-three this week. At least twenty of them were on leather. I don't care as long as they aren’t on the leather. Takes too long to clean off right.”
Y/N covered her mouth trying not to laugh. “Fourty-three?” Sigewinne had to be in the lead for sure.
Wriothesley frowned. He really didn’t want to have to bring her into this. “And do you want to tell me what medicine the two of you have been going on about that contains a shark with eyes bigger than its body?”
Annnnnnd Caught.
“I should go back to the infirmary. Someone might have shown up by now.” Sigewinne excused herself before she lost what Y/N had come down to give her.
She looked down at a nonexistent watch on her arm. “Oh look at the time. I should go.” She tried to walk away towards the exit only for Wriothesley to grab her arm and pull her back. “I didn’t dismiss you.”
 She turned her head over her shoulder looking back at him. “I’m not working for you today.” “Doesn’t matter. What was the book about?”
“Nothing to worry about. You do see how inappropriate this looks to everyone else. I can practically feel your heartbeat against my back.” “You’ve given me hugs in front of inmates before. We’ll be fine. I’ll let go when you tell me what was in the book.”
"Cause you won a match in the ring. I was high on adrenaline." She rolled her eyes at the memory. "Don't tell me you enjoyed it." She teased. 
"Don't change the subject.
“I’m perfectly on topic. I don’t know what you are so pressed about.”
“Do you understand that anything that comes within the Fortress without my knowledge can be considered contraband?"
Y/N pulled out of his loose grip and began walking towards the infirmary. He followed right behind. "Contraband? You do understand that Sigewinne and I are free people who work and sometimes work here."
"I know that. I asked nicely the first time."
"Nicely? You manhandled me." “I think we are running off of two very different definitions.” He lightly elbowed her side. “I have a feeling you’d enjoy that anyway.”
She rolled her eyes hiding a small laugh that tried to creep into her voice. “Wriothesley.” She attempted to scold him.
“We can unpack all of that on a different day.”
“It would be a short day with nothing to unpack.” She sped up her walk. It was hard to take his flirting seriously when there was still a sticker in his hair. He’d benefit from keeping a mirror on his person if the stickers were becoming a problem.
Upon entering the infirmary, Sigewinne and Ottnit were flipping through the infamous book. Laughing. Plotting when to strike their prank next. The two Melusines were clearly enjoying themselves. 
“Hi, girls.” Y/N greeted them as she and Wriothesley walked down the stairs towards them. “I’ve been assumed of bringing in contraband. May I see the book for a moment?” She held out her hand as Sigewinne passed her the book. “You do know we aren’t inmates here.” Sigewinne frowned at Wriothesley. “Told him that already.” She showed the open book to Wriothesley. “Happy now?”
His mouth dropped in shock. “I trusted you. Have you been the one supplying them?”
“Stickers are cute. I’m just giving my friends a gift. I don’t think that's betraying your trust.”
“Tell that to all the sticky residue on my jacket and boots. It won’t even come off right.” He complained. “Twenty of them on leather. I’m just covered in sticky dust.”
The three of them couldn’t help but finally break out laughing. Y/N invested her money in the right thing if he was to look this cute pouting. He crossed his arms frowning in an attempt to save himself from turning into a dust ball at the rate it was going.
Y/N handed the book back to Sigewinne. “Ottnit could you get me some baby oil and a few cotton balls.”
“Sure.” She went off and bought back the supplies. Sigewinne went off, setting the sticker book down on her table before sitting on a chair watching the faces of the two infirmary guests. 
Y/N took one of the cotton balls and dabbed a bit of the baby oil on it. Ottnit took the bottle of baby oil back. She grabbed one of the sleeves of the jacket and peeled off a sticker he had missed. Wriothesley frowned as she placed the sticker on his nose.
“You are doing a horrible job helping.” He took the sticker off his face and crumbled it up in his hand.
Y/N rolled her eyes. “My grandpa was a leather worker. He told me if there was any sticky residue on any leather, take some baby oil and rub it over it with a cotton ball.” She said as she cleaned off the sleeve of the jacket. She handed the used cotton ball to Ottnit before taking a clean one. “Dry it off with another cotton ball and then it's good as new.” 
Wriothesley looked over the sleeve. It was a lot better than his attempts. He sighed. “This doesn’t mean you can keep placing stickers on my jacket or boots,” he told Sigewinne and Ottnit. They were going to keep doing it anyway.
“Nothing to be angry about now.” Y/N dropped the sleeve of the jacket and handed the cotton ball to Ottnit. Ottnit went and threw away the used ones before putting up the baby oil.
“I wasn’t angry.”
“Good cause I’m going to keep giving them stickers.” She reached up pulled a sticker out of hair and placed that one on his nose as well. “I think they look good on you Ri.”
He rolled his eyes before repeating his action from before. “I’m not sure if you know the meaning of help.”
Y/N laughed. “I really need to get back to the surface. This lunch break has been going on a little long. I’ll see you later.” She turned around saying her goodbyes to Sigewinne and Ottnit before leaving the infirmary.
Wriothesley hadn’t even noticed how his eyes hadn’t left her till she was out of sight.
Ottnit sighed shaking her head. “You were right.”
Sigewinne smiled knowing she just won herself even more stickers. “When do you plan on asking her out?”
His head turned over to her. “Forty-five stickers. You get no say in this right now.”
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pearlsinmyhair · 10 months
Text
no labels.
slight nsfw. fem!reader. cursing! mdni. use of ‘my girl’. slightly (if you squint) possessive behavior (hobie calls you his)
hobie doesn’t believe in labels. they’re trite, used by society and the government to define you before you have the chance to. to manipulate you into being something that they want you to be. to make you controllable.
so he doesn’t bring them into his relationships. he’s a rockstar, so he’s had his far share of flings behind the stage. both boys and girls have gotten on their knees for him. even those who have chosen not to apply a gendered term to themselves have, too. but he never cared to call them anything before.
the ‘what are we?’ question has always made him want to keel over. commitment held him down. so he brushed it off, explaining how he didn’t believe in consistency and that he just needed to let off some steam.
he knew that it was a dick move, but he could never find it in himself to care.
and then he met you, and something in his brain switched.
he ignored it the first time he saw you, jumping amongst the crowd at one of his gigs. that draw, the pull that made him want to lean over the edge of the stage and kiss you.
for a few weeks after, you were all that was in his head. it didn’t matter how many cold showers he took, or how loud he blasted his music, or how hard he head banged. you were always there, dancing right behind his eyelids.
because he wanted you to be his, his and his alone. which was off, because this was him we were talking about. hobie brown, who swore off labels years ago.
if you hadn’t shown up to his next gig he would have been fine. maybe this was withdrawal and he could recover.
but there you were again, leaning against the guardrail front and center of the audience.
and he was fucked. so hard that he actually missed a few cues from his band mates. they nearly beat his ass for it after the show, but his drummer told him that a friend of a friend knew you, and he gave him your number.
and it was all history after that.
you never asked ‘what are we?’ you never had to. he assured you constantly, in his own hobie way, that you were loved, protected, and cared for.
hickies on your neck, his battle vest on your shoulders, his rings on your fingers. at some point you got a pretty little ‘h’ pendant to wear on a silver chain and he fucking lost it. seeing the letter of his name sittin pretty right between your breasts did something to him.
he never used the term ‘girlfriend’. that was a little too conformist for him. no, instead, he introduced you as ‘my girl’. to his band, to his fans, to his friends.
and alone, he was the same way. when you were tangled up in his sheets, squealing with each harsh snap of his hips, he grunted mine. when he couldnt make it to the bed after a hard mission, making love to you against the counter, humming your name like a prayer. when he gave you head, or you gave him head, and he was his noisy self whining his praise.
because you were his. and he was yours.
an- there’s more below the cut, but i’m actually pretty uncertain about how i wrote it. i don’t want to delete it, but i’m 50/50 about it so i’ll just hide it.
and with that change came more.
he hated valentine’s day. he hated how capitalistic that shit was, even refusing to turn on the tv just so he didn’t have to see the ads. and you laughed, because it was hobie.
so when the morning of the oh so wretched day came and he pressed a goodbye kiss to your forehead while you were still in bed, you thought it would be a normal day.
and when he knocked at your window with a bouquet of your favorite flowers and a bag of your favorite food you were more than surprised.
“had to show my girl some extra lovin.” he murmured against your neck when you let him in.
you hugged him close, mumbling “thank you, but are you high? what have you done to my hobie.”
and he just smirked against your skin. “what can i say, love, you make me forget myself sometimes.”
and hobie, who doesn’t believe in consistency, always kisses you goodbye, no matter who leaves first. one time he missed it and he knocked on the window of your college class. the whole class had snickered when you ran out the room to find him. he met you in a dark alleyway between buildings.
“had to get my goodbye kiss, sweets. can’t be lettin’ my girl feel lonely.”
or how he always, always texts you on long missions. your locations don’t exactly share across dimensions, so he settles for little ‘hey baby, i’m alright. found a place to calm down. all good.’ and you wait for him. and when he comes home he always rocks your world.
because you’re his girl. labels be damned. and he’s your boy.
and he doesn’t need anyone telling him how to love you.
want to check out more of my work? click here!
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halcyone-of-the-sea · 10 months
Note
hello !! if it’s not too much of a bother can you write another piece featuring Lion 🫶 maybe another angsty piece, maybe a lil lion + farah combo or something else like lion and gaz getting separated from the 141 during a mission and having to fight their way back to the extraction point (?). totally up to you !!! also thank u for keeping us well fed 🙇‍♀️
Lions and Ibexes
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PAIRING: John Price x Wife!Reader 'Codename Lion'
SYNOPSIS: Impulsive was what John always called you - affectionately, of course. But he sure does worry when you disappear without him.
WORDCOUNT: 4.0k
WARNINGS: Blood, death, canon typical violence, a tiny bit of angst, fluff, banter, no connection to 'I'll Take the Night Shift' except codenames, protective!Price, suggestive jokes, etc.
A/N: I wanna give Farah a big smooch on her forehead.
*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*
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“So this is the woman that the Captain won’t keep quiet about,” you smirk and place your hand into Farah Karim’s, eyes shimmering as you both share a tight grip. 
“Commander,” greeting the black-haired woman, your light gear hangs off of you easily and efficiently; clean and well-taken care of. 
“Lion,” she nods, smirking back. “A pleasure.”
“Please,” you huff a laugh, “I wish it could be.” Expressions dim as you instantly get to work, the hot sun and dry air sticking to your flesh like a second skin of humidity. Releasing Farah’s hand you sigh and look around the old town, skimming over the forms of other Urzikstan Liberation Force soldiers. 
Farah does the same, breathing lowly. 
“On that, I believe you’d be right.” Brown eyes flick to yours, looking you over before the woman nods. “Come, we have much to discuss.”
“Lead the way,” your feet push you onward, following behind the Commander as your wedding band clinks against your chest. Held on that long chain, a hand comes up to brush it carefully, letting the man who wears the mirrored piece bring you comfort even from so far away. 
John was set to ship out in two days—there were some other important operations that had taken precedence. While you could have stayed behind with him, as you had wanted to do, a plea from one of the far-distant operators of One-Four-One had caught your ear. The name Farah Karim was known. 
If you didn’t offer assistance, you’d never feel right with yourself. One call to Laswell and it was all set up. 
“I’ll be there in two days,” John had muttered into your scalp as you both lay in bed, tight to one another; lashes fluttering. “Wait for me, yeah? No running off.” 
Your smirk had made him sigh a chuckle. “No stunts of heroics, my Love? Please, do you know who you’re speaking to?”
“You’ll be the fuckin’ death of me, y’know?”
“Well,” the words are uttered into his neck and John pulls you tighter into him. “I think that’s just about the most romantic thing to happen to someone.” 
Smiling to yourself, you bring the ring to your lips and kiss it lightly before letting it drop. In your head, John is still in your shared flat in London, and you’ll be back by the hour. If only. 
“You contacted Laswell and said you had encountered more of Barkov's remaining cells?” Your voice carries easy authority; ingrained confidence. 
Farah looks back and nods firmly. 
“They’ve taken over a town in the mountains, my forces can’t break the line.” She sighs aggressively and you stare with a sliding frown. “Even dead, Barkov cannot leave my people alone.”
In the back of your throat, you hum, “Well, parasites tend to be resilient.” Farah leads you into a home with maps on the tables and low talking of strategies from others. They pause when you enter and you nod politely. Many here knew your husband as the Commander did—all those years back when he was still only a Lieutenant and had broken Farah and her brother Hadir out from the Russian’s jail; labeled as prisoners of war. 
John had told you about it during one of the many late nights in your joint offices. Eyes tired and his hands playing with your hair.
“What do you need me to do?” You ask genially, standing near the table and placing your hands down on it—standard M4A1 resting over your chest and your secondary weapon strapped to your thigh. Unlike most, you’d opted for lighter gear to allow you to move faster. 
Fewer packs sit on your vest, and the gleam of the knife on your shoulder was a testament to your preference to close, silent, encounters. Though you liked to use your silver tongue to get out of situations, unfortunately, that wouldn’t work in this instance. 
“Captain Price told me you’re one of the best undercover agents he’s seen.” You perk at this, looking over with raised brows.
“Hell,” your chuckle echoes, “when you said he couldn’t keep quiet I thought you were exaggerating.” 
Farah smiles cheekily at you before pointing to the map of a mountain town surrounded by red Xs.
“My soldiers have marked off choke points all around the area. They’re the only pathways to the town, but heavily guarded.” She glances around the room and you hear her sigh heavily. “I wouldn’t have asked for assistance unless I knew I needed it. I’d prefer to leave foreign fighters out of this conflict, unlike my enemy.” 
“I understand,” your head shakes. “It’s your home—I’ll go where you need me to. John should be here in two days to assist.”
Farah’s face flashes with surprise, her full brows rising on her head. “Price is coming?”
You shrug and laugh, “he’s stubborn.” 
The woman chuffs before moving to fold her arms over her chest. “I think perhaps he’s more of a smitten husband, hm?” At the sheepish expression on your face and dipping eyes, Farah barks a laugh.
The band around your neck clinks into the stock of your gun as you stand to your full height. 
“Is it that obvious,” you tease, tilting your head to her. You knew it was.
“I believe the simple action of asking is proof enough, Lion.” The commander looks at her work on the table, smiling easily but focusing still on her plan of attack. “But, regardless, I give my thanks for flying out on such short notice.”
“We help our own.” Resting your hands on the body of your weapon, you smile fondly. “Now, who do I need to kill?” 
As it turns out, killing was the very baseline of what you needed to do. 
Shuffling into the dark armor of the dead Russian soldier at your feet, you grunt at the slick spread of blood on the ground as you strap arm braces to your limbs. 
“Heavy as all hell,” you grumble under your breath, picking up the large helmet and shoving it over your head with a puff of air. 
Farah was going to lead a distraction on the far side of the western choke point while you slipped into the ranks, placing packs of C4 in some of the large-stocked weapons buildings. Easy enough for you, you admitted. You’d done things like this a million times over. 
When all was said and done, slipping your knife into the new belt at your waist, you gaze down at the dead man with a huff of air; seeing the blood still pooling from the very obvious signs of a slit up the left armpit. You blink and stuff your wedding band down your shirt. 
“Bad day, buddy,” grabbing his legs, you bare your heels and drag the body behind a large outcropping of rocks—long streaks of crimson left behind. “I’d hate to be you right now.” 
Grunting, you drop the limp flesh with a thump like a paper-towel roll meeting the counter. 
Shuffling back into the open, your feet make tracks to get you closer toward your targets. You hike the small pouch Farah gave you farther up your back without a word more. 
John had always said you were quick-witted, but when he got here he’d lose that hat of his in disbelief. The truth was that you had forgotten what little of the Russian language you’d initially known, and the situation you found yourself in now was frankly not ideal.
C’mon Lion, you think to yourself, just pick up social cues and you’ll be good. 
Oh, your husband was going to lose his shit.
“Come again?” The Captain barks. “What do you fuckin’ mean she’s in the base?!”
“I just explained it,” Farah levels, raising a brow. Blue eyes narrow with a growl until the Commander's lips flicker in a smirk. “We just had word three minutes ago. She’s fine, Captain.” Fingers find John’s nose bridge, digging deep into the flesh in large exasperation and worry.
He had caught a C17 and came here a day early after he’d gotten a bad feeling—internal wife radar going off as it usually did when you placed yourself in danger without him. Which was more often than not.  
I told her not to be impulsive. 
John sighs long and low, shaking his head. “Farah…you sent her in alone?” 
“She is quite capable, Price.”
“I fucking…” He stops himself and puts his hands on the table in the center of the building. Men and women were snickering from the corners, sending amused glances. “I know.”
Farah sends a glance to her soldiers and they turn away to cover their smiling mouths. Enjoyment was in her tone as she grabs the walkie-talkie from the table top and clips it to her vest. 
“There were more men than we anticipated—she had to be more careful when placing the charges. Captain,” John glares up at her when his eyes leave the maps. The Commander teases, “She is fine.”
As if on cue, the radio fizzles with your voice. Farah looks down with surprise and the Brit's eyes snap to it immediately; body tense. 
There’s a moment of garbled static where the Captain feels his heart beating out of his chest. The panic that had snapped through him when you hadn’t come out to greet him when he’d landed was primal; genuine fear stuck in his bones like spiky grass. The bond the two of you had was closer than anything on this plane of existence. It was rare to not see one without the other.
Your voice cuts through and John’s shoulders sag under a non-existent weight.
“You should tell your men to move unless they want to be scorched, Farah!” The woman in the room smiles ferally and raises a smug brow as she looks at John. 
“Copy, Lion. You have my thanks.” 
“I didn’t know you could improvise Russian—it’s like the Slavic blood just entered my body!” The Brit covers his eyes with his hand and groans at the base of his throat. 
“Tell her to get her arse back here before she gets bloody shot.” John takes off his bucket hat and tosses it to the table with a gloved hand, punching his hair back from his forehead. “Giving me gray hairs,” he grunts. 
Farah laughs and says eagerly into the walkie, “Someone’s here to say hello.”
“...Oh, fuck.” Your panting breath clears and after a long glare at the device, John hears you say in a slow and awkward tone, “Hello, my Love!”
Farah tilts the radio closer to him and looks highly pleased. 
“Get back here. Now.” John grunts out, fingers digging into his arms as he crosses them. “I told you to wait for me.”
You laugh nervously, deflecting, “...did you, Dear? I guess I misheard you.” The Brit’s jaw clenches but Farah can speak before he can.
“Lion, are all the charges set, then?” You seem thankful for the distraction, sighing over the line.
“All good over here! I just need the O.K from your men and then it’s about to get a whole lot brighter.” 
“I’ll relay the news—get away, as far as you can.”
“Already on it,” your breathy chuckle exits and you pause before saying. “See you soon, Love!” 
Tiny blue eyes bug, “Wait–!” The line clicks off and Farah is already tapping into the frequency for her soldiers, turning slightly away to converse in quick Arabic. 
Evening rolls around and you jog back into the Liberation Force’s base, greeting the guards stationed with a breathless sigh; utterly sweaty but happy you’d gotten half a ride back from some locals. You’re back in your original gear, sear marks on your cheeks and hair slightly burned, but nonetheless unharmed. 
Everyone welcomes you back with handshakes and pats on your shoulders—brushes to your arm as people pass. You guide yourself back to the main building with chuckles and deep smiles of achievement. 
“Someone’s happy.” John’s voice freezes you halfway into the home and you cringe like a leaf. After a moment your eyebrows slide up with a cheeky smile.
“John,” you draw out his name and turn, seeing him leaning against the house with his arms crossed and legs stiff. He looks unimpressed in all of his handsome glory. “Well, don’t you look nice—did you trim your beard before coming out?” 
Walking slowly towards him, you loop your hands around his waist and press kisses into his neck sweetly. The man sighs long and you feel his large palms rest on your hips heavily. You blink innocently into his orbs. 
“Your silver tongue won’t work on me, Love.” The glint in his expression eggs you on as his nose tints down to touch yours. You smile brightly, seeing the wrinkles on his forehead dim as he melts into you easily. 
Whispering, you utter to the air, “I’d say you like my tongue, you brute. Tell me often enough.” Not a beat is missed, but you feel his cheeks go slightly red.
“Keep it on a leash and maybe I’d like it more, yeah?” You snort loudly, head dipping only to feel his lips press into your scalp; his smile is teasing as his beard drags against you. 
John breathes you in along with the scent of sand. One of his hands travels up to lock into the back of your neck, playing with the chain of your necklace. The one that mirrors his own down to the very dents and scratches. 
“You alright?” The words are a murmur into your flesh. You let him play with your wedding band as your smile softens to the same sensation of warm pelts on a wooden floor. 
There was no use telling you to stop your crusades, the Brit knew that. You did what you wanted and damn the consequences; John was stuck with damage control but knew you had the skills and know-how to break all odds. You still held that same fire that the woman he married wore like a crown of fangs without fail.  
“Always,” you reassure him, hugging his waist tighter and staring into his eyes.
The both of you lapse into a delicate hold. John’s arms cage you in and you’d have it no other way as fingers drag over warm flesh, never mind the brutal dig of gear or the stain of blood. Neither could keep you away from the other. 
“When will you stop making my heart rip out of my chest, Sweetheart?” John asks, smirking down at you. “Trying to give me a heart attack before forty, eh?”
“Oh, please,” you whisper against his lips, eyes alight with mischief as he watches you closely—pulse pounding against yours. He could never be angry at you. “We both know that if you have one, I’ll be having one too. We’ll end up being brain-dead at the same damn time, no doubt.” 
He laughs against you lowly, having to pull back to shake his head at your bland confession. “You’re fuckin’ mental, Love.” He breathes in soft puffs of breath. You gaze up at him, laced with affection and care, as he rests his forehead on yours. “Ah, but that’s alright, isn’t it? We’re all a bit crazy.” 
“You might be a little bit higher on the metaphorical scale,” you tease, face serious but eyes betraying you. They always would when it came to John; the only person to break through that ‘cunning nuisance’ that everyone always mentioned in your file. 
“Really, now?” He blinks, smirking and rubbing at your hip absentmindedly and leaning closer—pushing your neck to the side. 
“Just a bit,” you huff, not even realizing. 
Before you can utter another word, firm lips capture you like a beast in iron bars, bulky forearms stuck at the curve of your spine. You chirp into John’s mouth in surprise but melt into him as his large purr resonates into your bloodstream. Singing, you bring your hands to his cheeks, digging through those bristles to feel the burn on your hands. 
Humming, your husband nuzzles his nose into your cheek like a dog would, letting him take in your scent as you feel your legs go weak. You enjoy the worship he gives you; always would. Your body is tightly held against his own and you gladly would have shown him how much you enjoyed him being here if only for the small fact you needed to talk to Farah. 
With one last pass of his reddened lips, you slip back and kiss his bristly cheek with a chuckle. 
“Later.” 
He groans into you. “Tease.” 
“I didn’t even do anything!” You laugh loudly, moving out of his hold to walk into the house as he follows at your heels. John’s hands go to the top of his vest collar to rest. 
He leans down and whispers, “Don’t need to, Love.” 
Your face burns for him and only him as he grumbles out chuckles at your blown pupils. Huffing, you turn and roll your eyes, trying to dispel your flaming blood. Farah waits for you and with a happy glance up she comes from around the table and claps you on both shoulders. You grunt in surprise but grip her elbows with a laugh. 
“Barkov’s remaining cell was wiped out—my soldiers are hunting down the remnants as we speak.” She squeezes your gear and you sigh in relief. “Thank you, Lion, for coming out when you did. The Captain was not wrong in his assessment.” 
You turn your head to the side and glance back at John. “Hear that my Love, I’ve heard you talk about me. That’s so precious.” 
His face goes red under his beard, and his feet shuffle as you and Farah share a joking glance. John releases under-the-breath grumbles before the Commander addresses him. The woman releases you but speaks past your person.
“Some of my younger soldiers wanted you to mentor them with the use of their weapons, do you plan on staying the night?” You and John share a look, a seeming telepathic communication going on. 
He nods at you and you smile. “Only tonight, we ship out at first light. I’ll do what I’m able.”
“Then you also have my thanks. They’ll learn much, I’m sure. Lion,” John comes and gives you a kiss on the cheek before leaving. You watch him go for a moment before rubbing at your dirty neck while you listen to Farah. “Come with me, there’s fresh water on the roof.” 
“Oh,” you perk, suddenly realizing the fatigue in your bones and the dryness of your throat. “Thank you, that’d be great.”
As you both ascend the stairs to the roof, there’s a still silence that falls, a calm nothingness. When you finally stand on the flat roof, you look over the vast land as Farah hands you a chilled water bottle from a mini-fridge. You take it with a small nod in thanks. 
“Nice view,” you motion with the bottle before taking a long sip—downing half of it in one go. 
Farah smiles and hums. “Urzikatan is a beautiful place,” you listen and wipe at your mouth; seeing people walk the streets below as the red sun grows even lower. In the wind, your nose twitches to sand and dust, with some hint of floral notes and arid cleanliness. Farah’s face seeps with a low sadness when she looks out to the land and you pause your drinking. Brows pulling in, you watch her. 
“Farah?” You ask, carefully. It’s a moment before she responds.
“I…” She crosses her arms and sets her feet. “I wonder if this place will ever see its freedom. We’ve been fighting for so long already. My family has known war more than anything else.” Brown eyes drift to you from the side of her eye. 
There’s a tightness in your chest. You can’t imagine what Farah feels right now, what she has felt. Years of this…and still her home is under foreign subjugation. A frown grows on your face and you put the half-full bottle to the small wooden table near the roof’s corner. 
“You’ll get your sovereignty, Farah.” You try your best to speak your mind to the woman but remain truthful to your belief. Farah stares out as you sigh lowly. “Maybe not now—maybe not in this generation—but someday the sun is going to set on a free Urzikatan. You’re plenty strong enough to assure that and you’ve done a proper job so far. The frames are already set.” 
The Commander hums and gazes at her soldiers below as they mull about, laughing with each other and enjoying the company of their fellow countrymen.
“Do you ever wonder what it would be like?” Farah asks you, and you study her genuine interest in her own thoughts. “Who we would be if nothing ever happened to us.” 
You stare for a moment, skull tilting down to gaze at the top of the roof. It’s not an easy question to answer. 
“Sometimes,” your lips admit. Farch eagerly pivots to your form like you hold the greatest answer imaginable. She’s been through so much—losing her family, and her home. Humming, your eyes shift to the setting sun; blinking at it. Against all of this, your lips flinch up into a smile. “But not often.” 
Farah’s eager gaze turns confused, her brows furrowing deeply with a scrunched face. 
“Because right here, right now,” John walks down the street below, and your eyes fall to him as easily as a leaf dances to the ground. The expression on your face eases. “It couldn’t have happened if there were never bad days.” Your husband looks up, and you see him pause among the ranks of other fighters. You chuckle softly, head tilting to the side. 
John stares at you as if you’re the only person to exist, moving one hand from his vest to jerk two fingers in a subtle greeting. Farsh watches the interaction closely, tension loosening from her body. Your head nods slowly to your husband and you say to the woman, absent-minded, “I’m right where I need to be…And the sun has never looked brighter.”
Farah huffs a laugh, eyes running back and forth between the two of you. 
“He loves you,” she says, “deeply.” 
“God,” your laugh echoes, “I sure hope so.” The both of you laugh. 
It felt easy to speak to the Commander, truthfully. Being surrounded by four men all of the time can get catty even with such a strong bond as you had with One-Four-One. 
You dare to share more.
"In my mind, John and I are still in Hertfordshire for our wedding,” The words come out of you slowly, unwrapping emotions one layer at a time as if swaddled in a dark veil of internal nostalgia. You watch John as he walks along, oddly sad but filled with something that makes you want to take him up into your arms with a wet laugh. “Sitting back on the grassy hills outside of town in my gown and him in his tux. The wind is cold…but neither of us can find it in ourselves to shiver. The sun's setting on our heads and making everything glow gold. His fingers are running through my hair…” You pause and hear Farah’s soft breath in the air, but you don’t look at her. Your eyes stay stuck on one person only. “When I die,” your words continue, “I can't ask for anything more than just a glimpse of that again. Just a flicker of that hill. Of those blue eyes looking into mine. I don't think it would be all that bad if I could live in that moment for senseless eternity. If I could live in it for only one second." 
John looks back at you from over his shoulder, your form shrouded in the setting sun as he slowly walks away from you. You gaze with melted eyes, the ring around your neck shining all the brighter. 
“I’m right where I need to be,” finishing, you turn your glossy eyes to Farah, who stares with a wide pull to her lids. “And you need to believe that even if you never get to see that freedom—that hill—you’ll make sure someone else can climb it just an inch farther.” 
It’s a long moment before Farah answers.
“The both of you will do this until one of you dies, hm?” You blink before you shrug. 
“Not one.” Your tone is easy, and John’s shadow turns a corner; out of sight. “I’d never let him go without me.”
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suniverseastro · 9 months
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ASTROLOGY OBSERVATION #14
Mars in the 2nd house is very possessive
Moon Aquarius is easy to sympathize with those around, although they may have many bad qualities, they will often be ignored by people because of their support in the team. Some in this group when they don't like someone and hate openly can easily recognize their feelings, these people can play bad tricks like using crowds, councils to bully
Here are some of the positions that I don't like very much, doesn't mean they will all be the same and I hate everyone with this aspect, it just brings some difficulties and disadvantages, takes a lot of time time to recognize and transform it:
1. Moon Square/Opposite Pluto: often emotionally volatile and explosive, has difficulty controlling anger, may experience more bad luck with women
2. Moon square / Opposite Uranus: actually this is one of the most horrible corners for me because as far as I know and actually it means about their separation from the mother physically or mentally
3. Venus square/opposite Mars: causes sexual attraction but often changes partners too quickly and gets nowhere
4. Mars Libra: passive in problem solving. The house in this position plays an important role, like the one who moves the pieces tactically. I think it is necessary to add other angles to strengthen this position, especially Pluto to increase ambition and determination.
5. Venus Gemini: often emotional, easy to play emotional roller coaster with others, unpredictable, interesting, but for me this is not a very good position in love, they easily find it difficult. hard to find the right person
6. Moon square/Opposite Saturn: often encounters problems in childhood such as abandonment, working in a difficult, deprived environment, shouldering responsibility, loneliness; They have quite a lot of psychological damage, rarely share, confide, and find it difficult to open their hearts to others. When they learn to be less strict with themselves and learn to accept and love themselves, the door in their souls will lead them to the good things that are waiting for them on the other side of their hearts.
7. Venus square/opposite Uranus: feel less interested in wanting a relationship Some positions I like:
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Moon trine/sextile Pluto: I once wished to have this aspect because it gives the ability to read other people's psyches and understand emotions deeply and they themselves also have a protective covering for their minds. mine
Sun trine/sextile Pluto: have their own privilege in society, they can be people whose image others consider as an authority and important figure, admire; Their passion is strong and they will try to do it
Mercury conjunct/ trine/ sextile Neptune: they have acumen, speciality and development in language, can know 2 or more languages, have artistic abilities, their voices are quite cute
Venus trine/sextile Mars: they easily radiate sexual attraction to other people (regardless of gender), which makes it easier for them to have relationships
Ascendant trine/sextile/conjunct Mercury: usually curious, cheerful, child-like eager people, they often have an active, playful appearance.
Ascendant trine/sextile/conjunct Sun: confident, shine, positive energy
Moon in Sagittarius/9th: very active, cheerful, likable, open and optimistic, they respect others and different cultures and religions
Mercury in Gemini: funny people, lots of topics to talk to, easy to talk to anyone, except people they don't like
Mercury conjunct/trine/sextile Pluto: their voice has charm, weight, usually straight to the point, analytical, inquisitive and rarely afraid of knowledge and reason
Moon sextile Venus: cute girls and boys, graceful words, pleasant, non-aggressive, cohesive and peaceful
(a position can't say who you are, everything will change, maybe for the better, maybe for the worse) try to take a deep breath and try to feel the peaceful moment in the present
Thank you everyone for inspiring me to write articles on this topic. Thank you for your love for me; love you all. Wishing you all good health, peace and luck ⭐
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starrvsn · 3 months
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` ִ ꔫ ۫ ⊹ D.HUME ࣪ ˖ HEART AND MIND.
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﹙ MOVIE/FANDOM ⠆THE BOYS IN THE BOAT ﹚
READ PART TWO HERE !
PAIRING ⠆don hume x fem!reader.
WORD COUNT ⠆1,064
CATEGORIES ⠆angsty, minor fluff, comfort, long-distance-relationship!au, roger and bobby being nosy, will there be a second fic of a reunion..? who knows, maybe :p. (i'm not super sure how old they are but lets just assume they're 20.)
𝟒𝟏𝟏. roger and bobby are nosy and want to know where he got all his fancy jewelry from.
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don was a private man, he kept things to himself and only choose some aspects of his life to be known. however, now that he has people in his corner he could trust, he was more willing to share. one of those things being his love life, they never asked so he never said anything; even when they would tease about him not being able to talk to girls. not knowing his heart was taken. it was late and the boys were relaxing in their dorm when roger spoke his thoughts:
“y’know, i always wondered where you got your ring and bracelet from.” roger points at the two pieces of jewelry on dons bedside from his bed across dons, his tone curious and lighthearted.
“oh well-“ don starts, he didn’t expect such a comment but it wasn’t unwelcome. “it’s okay don you don’t have to tell us.” bobby interjects, giving roger a pointed look from his desk seat. he knows how private don could be and didn’t want roger overstepping to not make it awkward.
“oh no, it’s okay.” don assures, waving a dismissive hand. “my bracelet and ring are my girlfriend.” he responded, a smile playing on his lips at the thought of you– a new piece of his life being uncovered, there probably wasn’t going to be a right time to mention it so he guesses that time was now. don didn’t think it was too much of a big deal but he didn’t want to tell anyone for your sake and the teasing he would get if he told them in a group setting. the two boys nod in understanding.
“she gifted me the bracelet on my birthday” don continues, his eyes fixated on the chain sitting on his bedside. his friends paying close attention to his words
it was a simple gesture, nothing to extravagant– he told you once that he hadn’t gotten a gift for his birthday since he was a child so for his 18th birthday you got him a bracelet, a simple chunky silver chain. you had saved up your allowance to buy it for him, you were nervous that he wouldn’t like it. but you couldn’t have been more wrong, he love it! in fact he didn’t want to except it at first, such a fine piece of jewelry. he felt bad because he never gave you gift as grand as this. he wore it everyday since you gifted it to him, even making the effort to upkeep it when a piece broke or the clasp was faulty.
“and my ring she gave before she left.” silence falls, roger and bobby unsure what to say. bobby and roger exchange glances, both thinking the same thing, they weren’t sure what he meant by left, if you had passed or moved away. don senses the hesitance in the air and immediately adds “she moved for college, she goes to cal.” their faces softening at his words. you going to one of their biggest rival schools in rowing, don wasn’t affected as much by the thought of it but he could tell his friends, who were probably having a frenzy of thoughts, mostly on the fact you went to a rivaling school.
you leaving was bittersweet. he was happy that you were going to the school of your dreams but the fact you’d be so far from him made his heart sink. he remembers so vividly when it happened, you gotten into an argument about the school’s you applied to— his emotions got the better of him and he made an offhanded comment about it being better off broken up if you decided to go to a school that far. which lead into a whole heated argument on if he even trusted you, it got so out of hand you left without saying another word to him, then when you were accepted into cal you told him. it was your dream school and there wasn’t anything that was going to stop you from going… don included. you found out your acceptance two days after your argument. you went to see him after receiving the news. he knew he couldn’t lose you apart of his life and you being so far without him was going to be a tough pill to swallow but you promised each other you’d make it work. the day you were set to leave you surprised with with a gold ring with your initial engraved on it telling him “something to remember me by” and he has a surprise of his own, out from his pocket a small box with a locket inside, heart shaped with a photo of the two of you. you broke down in tears at the sight of it— he remembers it so fondly, the good and the bad of it all.
“when was the last time you saw her?” roger blurted, asking before he could even realized what he said. they raise concerning glares, unsure if they overstepped. they knew just because don confined in them doesn’t mean they could ask whatever and it would be okay.
“uh probably a year, maybe more— we write to each other ever so often. i actually just sent off my letter to her few days ago.” don hummed, it was nice to talk about you— he’s kept you in his thoughts for so long that if they asked anything about you he could talk all night.
“what did you put in the letter— if you don’t mind me asking.”
“well i just wrote about trying out for the team and that i made it.” he didn’t include that he told you how much he missed you and responses to some things you said in your letter. a comfortable silence falls over them, bobby and roger taking in the new information about you and don lost in thought about his memories with you. they boys also wondered what you looked like, trying hard to imagine the girl that captured their strokes heart.
“you think she’ll be at the race against cal next week?”
he would love to see you again, don knew how busy you were with school and as much as he think you would, how he wishes you would. be in your arms again but it probably wasn’t possible, though the thought was nice— falling asleep with you in his dreams, like you are every night.
read part two here !
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ownership of starrvsn. please do not repost, modify or translate.
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crucialplayer · 10 months
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how good are zodiac signs at lying + tier ranking 
!! everything is based purely on my experiences with signs, written with no other purpose than to share my observations and be unserious. 
excellent liars + can cause a significant amount of stress 
Pisces (unintentionally made it to the top). You know how it's said to be a good liar you have to believe in ur lies? Queens and kings of that. Live in another dimension and process everything through their mood (and it changes A LOT)/or their relationship with the person they are talking about. Hence the «they’ve changed» and «it's different this time». They rarely lie out of a negative spot tho, it's simply how their emotional filter works and distorts reality for them. Also despite being good at lying they just use those Pisces eyes to get what they want. This imo works more for Pisces Risings and Pisces Venuses. 
Libras. It's vital to them to be liked and well thought of so a lot of the time they’ll say and do whatever grants them precisely that. Can be very eloquent with their words, super socially conscious. Can navigate a convo without ever sliding into remotely misbalanced territory. Ig a libra lie giveaway would be if they are in a situation with two or more extreme opinions – it might cause them to get overwhelmed and lost. 
pretty good + can cause a moderate amount of stress 
Geminis. Not surprising I know. Earned and fought for their rightful place. Will lie for fun (mostly). Their motivation for lying is that of an elementary schooler – to see exactly how far they can get away with. Nevertheless, imo they are not as evil with it as they are made out to be. It's merely a way of getting mentally stimulated at any time of the day because without it they would honestly die. Quite easy to deal with too. You either play their game and start lying for shits and giggles too (works if ur goal is for them to like u) or ignore them (it takes about 2 minutes until they get bored and move on to another). Tbh anything in Gemini in ur big 6 will give u this result to some degree. The reason why they're not higher is cause their lies typically don't have the longevity of those above.
Сancers. Cannot stand feeling threatened so they’ll do anything and I mean anything to keep that sense of inner safety – including lying. Basically, if something is even slightly intruding on what they consider their comfort limits –  they will lie their way back to their precious shell. Ig it gets a bit problematic cause often they feel the threat without there being one. And since they are literally the opposite of clearing the air right on the spot you’ll seldom get a chance to catch that moment when they get into their defensive stand. Works for Sun or Rising/Mars maybe?? + If u have both bonus points to the insanity u might cause.
might try to lie but will probably fail + no stress pure fun
Leos. Will try to lie if they feel like their ego might suffer a bit or their social status is under attack, but you will notice it cause honestly there’s not a single emotion they can hide on that face. I’ve noted that they normally hate lying as a phenomenon in general (might be cause it makes them feel unstable and they are a fixed sign + all that ego protection). Besides they don't consider lying as something needed for them to gain love (them being themselves usually does it). Prideful lil babies (I’ve seen Leo Sun or Leo Stellium be like that). Aries. Оk these ones often don't even try. Don't have the patience to analyze the situation and how it might benefit them to lie – they rush straight into react mode (and they are pretty entertaining in it). Same as Leo don't consider lying necessary for them to get what they want – they just go after it and get it.
сan lie in theory but prefer other methods of torture
Scorpios. Lying is too easy and they like to be elaborate with their victims opponents. In all seriousness in my experience they won't appreciate you lying, and won't lie too. They crave that soul bonding hard and lying doesn't really say I want to belong to u with every ounce of my being. If they like you chances are you are sincere in how you feel towards them and they will let you know too. This obviously all falls apart if you have wronged them in some way. Then bye. 
Tauruses. It’s simply tooooo much work and effort. Also generally requires reacting quickly and they would rather exit the situation altogether. And you will like them for other reasons and they know that so ig that’s why they just chill and wait for theirs to come naturally. And it does. And they will be smug about it.
can lie but actively choose not to + hence can cause a lot of stress
Virgos. Would never deprive themselves of the pleasure of being mean critical (esp Virgo suns). Feel like it's their life mission to point out flaws and inconsistencies so they won't tell white lies regardless they like you or not (might be super annoying to you – to them it's everything). But it's useful to have someone that tells you how it is (this line def belongs to Virgo too). Also think they are too smart anyway so they’ll get what they need through that.
Sagittariuses. Pretty obvious. In their world it's either telling the truth or having a heart attack right then and there. It can be so bad that you will ASK them to lie and they still won't. I think it's partially because to them any thought that comes up in their head is worth sharing so there u have it. Good thing they can be funny with it but not always… If they have Sag Sun and Sag Mercury it's this but on steroids. 
could not care less + stress levels caused are moderate but for other reasons…
Capricorns. Too busy to notice you, let alone talk to you, let alone lie to you… But if they do a) you have something they need for their GOAL therefore you have value b) ur somehow got to their inner circle but they still won't lie. They will tell you how it is only to save their time. Can be mean (but honest!!!) but I think they genuinely don't realize it (unlike Virgos). 
Aquariuses. Also too busy but usually with made-up stuff. Don't need to lie since people don't understand them either way. Too focused on bigger plans bigger picture bigger anything to come down to such low topics like intricacies of human interaction. To be fair they are really chill and really could not be bothered. 
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secret-smut-sideblog · 2 months
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Girl Talk
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Astarion x F! Tav
18+ talks of sexuality, implied trauma, safe words, role reversal, breast worship, grinding, fingering (m!), ass play, rimming, prostate orgasm, some gender play, aftercare, porn w/o plot
One late night Astarion turned their conversation to a more sensual topic and was delighted to discover Tav lacked experience with men. Naturally he was more than happy to lend a hand...
-
"So you've never..." He smiled, laying on his side next to her, the faint miasma of wine around them.
"Never?" She asked, incredulous. "Astarion do you take me for a holy woman?" Smiling cheekily at him. "I thought you surface dwellers thought all Drow are insatiable."
"Well, are they?"
"No comment." She lifted her glass to her lips, sliding her eyes away from him mischievously.
They had been traveling together for a while now and had struck up a fast friendship. Her snarky words and wanton flirtation winning him over. Sharp tongue and sharper eyes.
She leaned back, thinking. "Its more that I've been mostly with women. Sure there was a man or two but they didn't make it far enough to make an impression. Didnt get far below the belt." She shrugged, waving her hand noncommittally.
Of course, in a matriarchal structure she would be more directed towards sapphic pursuits. She had explained that Drow men were not upheld to the most flattering light in her society.
"If you had to pick, in our camp-"
"Karlach," No hesitation. "Oh I'd climb her like a tree."
He blinked, an amused smile teasing the edge of his mouth. "Impeccable taste."
"I have been known to have a refined palate." She smirked.
"Honestly I'm curious but I'm just more comfortable with women, I know their bodies. I can navigate them even without eyes." She laughed.
Ah yes, the eyes. Those haunting eyes.
He had overheard her speaking to Wyll about their shared warlock experience. His, to a devil, to defend his city. Hers, to an eldritch being, to achieve the gift of sight. Tried to smother his frown at the easy energy between them, their instinctive bond.
Logically he knew he should feel this same way about Karlach, with her soft puppy eyes following Tav around camp. But he couldn't keep distaste in his heart for her. Not for long anyway. Wyll on the other hand...
Her demonic white eyes peering good naturedly into his now. He didnt know if he'd ever get used to how they pierced him. She savored every sight and while slightly intoxicating it made him squirm to be looked at so thoroughly.
"Well," He smiled. Leaning towards her conspiratorially. "If you're less experienced with men you could always practice..."
While he found himself enjoying her company, quite a lot if he was honest, he was still looking for an in. And here it was. Plopped in his lap, just a shared drink away.
"Oh please," She rolled her eyes. "My pickings out here are slim to none. Unless I get the sudden urge to get horizontal with a goblin."
"What about closer to camp?" Sliding a little nearer to her, his fingers almost touching the inside of her forearm.
"Astarion," She admonished, drawing out her words. "Wasting your advances? My neck is right here." Turned her head to make her point.
While he was distracted by her jumping pulse point he couldn't help the edge of frustration creeping up him.
He had been putting all of his honeyed words on her, all his soft tempting touches, and she would just dance them off with a light laugh.
She was a natural flirt but there was an air to her that she didn't take his advances to heart. Maybe she thought he was just like that with everyone. That it didn't mean anything.
Given that she was devastatingly beautiful he felt even more pressure to stake his claim. Their companions all circling her constantly. Gods she basically had to beat them away with a stick at the tiefling party.
"What if," He started, tracing his finger languidly up her wrist. "You practiced on me? You can touch me like you would a feminine lover, if that helps."
She sat up on elbows, head cocked slightly to the side, staring at him.
It was suddenly very quiet and he tried not to fidget, finger tracing figure eights into her soft flesh.
"And that wouldn't make you feel... uncomfortable?"
Honestly he hadn't thought that far ahead. This was a person he was free to bed on his own terms, of his own will. And he was rather fond of her. Though he was here with ulterior motives, that didnt mean he couldn't enjoy her company. He could do much worse.
"Oh what's a little exploration between friends..." Looked up at her through his lashes. "Or more than friends."
"I mean, if we're exploring I could get out the strap."
He had been mid drink and choked, sputtering as she laughed, patting hard into his back.
"I'm sorry, just teasing."
"I mean... are you offering?"
She crooked a bemused smile at him. "I think we would have to work up to that, Star. Let's see how the night goes first."
After dinner she gathered her bathing supplies, exchanging pleasantries with everyone as she retreated.
Blowing a cheeky kiss to Karlach as she rose. Her fire erupting in a burst, Gale having to dive off of the log they were sharing. A goofy smile all over her face.
He almost felt bad about what he was planning. She would be much more suited to the tiefling.
Well, it's just sex, it won't mean anything beyond each of their gain. Him, allegiance. Her, pleasure.
He walked on light feet, following her dark auburn hair. The gentle lull of her singing. Playing with the tones and words they had helped the bard Alfira stumble through.
"Moon, Sun, All remind me of your grace, Faith, Care, All the love I can't repay~"
Despite her light and playful demeanor her singing voice was full and haunting. A mournful cello calling out into the night.
He understood why Karlach basically begged her to sing for them around the fire when her little talent was discovered. She had waved her away, insisting that it wouldn't be worth their time. She'd much rather hear Halsin play. Then Halsin had urged her on, countering that he would only pluck a few strings if she joined.
"Fine, prepare to be underwhelmed." She had laughed.
Immediately they went quiet as she started, closing her eyes. He noticed she always closed them when she was concentrating, as if the added sense was too much.
They were enraptured listening to her, even Halsin almost stumbling through cords. Her voice spellbinding them all.
"Gods, Soldier. Are you part harpy?" Karlach hushed after she had fallen quiet.
She smiled, clearly embarrassed. A rare sight. She had an easy confidence, getting her flustered was a feat.
Now, he approached her stealthily at the edge of the river. Faced away, already waist deep, wringing water out of her long hair.
"Are you joining or just hoping for a show?" She smirked, glancing at him over her shoulder.
He was about to scoff, how did she always hear him no matter how quiet he moved?
Seeing his annoyed posture, she smiled. "My ears are more attuned than most seeing people, dont take it personally."
"Noted. I would so enjoy sneaking up on you." He pantomimed, crouching down playfully.
"I bet you would, but you'll have to walk on a whisper to get past me." She winked, sinking down into the water to chest high. Turning to face him. Eyes alight with mischief.
It felt so easy with her. Their banter a practiced dance, the steps surefooted.
"So, are you still dreaming of sharing a night of pleasure?" He mused, pushing his hand on his lower back. A wicked smile on his lips.
She lowered further into the water, only eyes now. Staring at him through her lashes, serpentine. One hand emerging, beckoning him with a hooked finger.
He pulled his clothes off in a sensual show, leaving them in a neat pile next to hers.
As he began to wade in her head submerged. The night water too dark to make out her shape.
He stood in false absence in the water, chest high. Senses alight.
Fingers along his waist, exploring. He looked down and saw her murky shape against his torso.
She rose, chest to chest with him. Pushing her hair slick back over her head. So dark it looked black in the dim light.
"Well, well," He intoned, pulling a damp lock behind her shoulder. "Looks like I caught myself a siren."
"You do know what sirens do to beautiful creatures like you, right?" She cocked her head at him, arms coming up to drape over his shoulders.
Their eyes were level with eachother, nearly the same height. She had teased him mercilessly in camp when it was discovered that she was an inch or two taller.
It felt almost too intimate to be directly across from her, their faces mirrored.
"I'd be more worried for your neck than mine, darling." He purred, flashing her a fang baring smirk.
"Oh I dont know," She mused, pressing her body flush to his. "I think deadly things can be good bedfellows, dont you?"
She brushed her lips against his, pulling away teasingly. "You still want to do this little experiment?"
"I'd love nothing more." He snaked his hands around her waist. "Lead on."
At least he didn't have to do the work this time. Could just lay back and go somewhere else.
Some of his thoughts must have betrayed in his face cause she paused.
"Hey, I'm okay to postpone this. Indefinitely if needed." Her voice was uncharacteristically soft then, pulling away from him.
He grabbed her retreating wrist, leading her back into him.
"Tav, I need this." He hushed, the truth. Though maybe not with the intent she imagined.
She paused again. Gods it made him nervous when she got quiet. Her melodic voice usually floating around the air.
"Ground rules." She stated, her eyes serious. Waiting for his response.
He blinked. Honestly he had given his own boundaries very little, if any thought.
"You first." Stalling for time.
"Not okay with being restrained and I'd prefer if we had a safe word."
He nodded, this was new to him but he did appreciate the idea.
Scouring his mind for definite turn offs but found it difficult. He tried to not be present for most of it so it was hard to say with certainty.
"Dont touch my back or the bite. Also not into restraint. Or force."
She smiled and he felt proud that he had passed this little test.
"We can stop at any time, okay?"
"Naturally, darling. Though I doubt I'll be able to resist ravaging you, I'll behave."
"Those lines work on a lot of women, huh?" She teased, fingers trailing his cheek as she pulled closer.
He felt a slight tightness in his chest but gave her an easy smile. "Well you're here now, arent you darling?"
"True." She whispered, leaning in to kiss his jaw gently. "Though I could say I'm here in the spirit of research."
"And you'd be a liar, a terrible one at that."
She breathed a laugh against him. "You always need to get the last word, huh?"
"Oh, I'll ge-" He was muffled by her mouth, pulling him into a slow exploring kiss.
He felt a little moan escape him, much to his horror. The desire in her touch surprising him.
She held him around his waist, cupping the back of his head. Her lips sliding warm against his.
She pulled away and he found himself following her. "The safe word is Bulette."
He nodded, and she lifted under his thighs and wrapped them around her waist. Walking up to the edge of the water.
His dead heart did race a little bit at that but he figured it was just the role reversal.
Though they were the same height she was much stronger than she looked. Muscle hidden under plush thighs and the soft curve of her stomach. He could feel it when he bit into the defined curve of her neck. See it in her shoulders when she lifted her arms over her head. That little adorable whine when she stretched.
She layed him back on the grass, her hands guiding him down.
"If this is how you treat your women I can see why you've taken so many admirers." He teased.
"You know," She smiled, leaning down over him. "You're beautiful enough it's not a far stretch."
He breathed a laugh through his nose.
"So where would you start, lover?" He purred, twisting a lock of her hair as it fell over him.
She hummed, moving down. "Usually here." Leaning into his neck on his unmarked side.
Kissing and nipping at his throat he found himself giving in to the sensation. Head falling back slightly. He never minded the foreplay.
Her mouth was devotional on his neck, licking and pulling heavenly circles.
He found himself humming with approval. Hand carding through her hair. "That is nice, darling."
"Then I'd move here..." her fingers trailing down his chest, brushing tentatively over his nipple. Asking.
He felt a shiver go down his back. Shocked by the little strike of pleasure.
"And then?" He intoned, hearing the slight rasp in his voice. Definitely intentional.
He felt her smile against his throat. Moving down his front, leaving soft kisses as she went. Thumbing over his nipple playfully.
"I would put my leg here." She hushed, pushing her knee between his thighs. "So she could grind."
"Interesting," He tried for suave, failing miserably. Her fingers softly twisting his peak making him slow and stupid.
"This is my favorite part." She looked up at him through her lashes cheekily. Hovering over his chest. "Hold on, love."
He almost scoffed, surely it wasnt-
Her mouth descended on his chest, licking hard slurping circles around his nipple.
His back arched involuntarily, a loud embarrassing groan leaving him.
She moaned in pleasure, her mouth salivating. Gripping his hips.
Gods she was unhinged, tongue pulsing and insistent. Laving up and down his hard peak. Panting hot against him.
If he had more sense he would have been baffled at how much it seemed she was enjoying just his experience. But he felt lost, head heavy with pleasure.
She pushed her thigh further into him encouragingly and he could no longer resist. Already painfully aroused.
He ground down into her thigh gratefully, feeling her tense the muscle for him.
Her other hand came up to pinch and twist at his nipple as she left it, sliding over to his left side and taking up there. The new sensation making him gasp, both sides of his chest being devastated with equal intensity.
She picked up on the rhythm of his hips and pushed her thigh into him in pulses.
Gods her mouth, rolling her tongue and nipping. Suckling down hard then pulling back to lick long stripes up his chest.
How in the hells was he already close?
He gripped her bicep, wrapping his leg around her hip.
Fuck it. Why not?
"I'm-," He panted.
She moaned into him, biting down on his engorged peak. Rising back up.
He almost whined at the lack of sensation until she latched onto his earlobe.
Oh fuck.
His eyes pulled shut. "Oh Gods, don't stop."
She suckled down hard, a little sweet whine directly in his ear. Her hands gripping his ass and pulling him into her harder. His cock throbbing and sliding wet against her.
One last nibbling suck and he was shattered.
Coming in stuttering cries, head thrown back. His pelvis contracting in great vicious jolts, spurting long ropes against her hip. Distantly aware of the sounds coming out of his lips.
"You with me?" She asked gently after a moment, pulling back. Kissing his face in light caresses.
Suddenly aware of his body again he realized his eyes had welled with tears.
"Ah, yes darling." He ruffled, trying to pull himself together with great effort. "I could actually go again."
She looked at him dubiously, a soft but amused smile on her swollen lips.
"I think you're lying." She purred, leaving a tender kiss on his already bruised neck.
He was. But he had a reputation to uphold.
"All out of moves? Dissapointing." He sighed.
"You're cute," She chided, coming back up to pull him into a searing kiss. "Biting off more than you can chew."
"Oh I've barely been sated, sweet thing. I'm starving."
"On your belly then." She whispered into his ear. Patting his thigh playfully.
"Well, wouldn't you like to be tasted?" He asked, confused. Surely she didnt intend to only pursue his pleasure.
"Hmm, maybe another night." She mused, truly seeming to mull it over.
What a strange creature.
"Are all sapphics like this?" He scoffed, letting her hands twist his waist. Hips up, bracing himself on his forearms.
"More than you'd think." She laughed, massaging his hips from behind.
"You know what you're doing back there?" He teased, shooting her a look over his shoulder.
"Hmm, different from what I'm used to. But I think I can translate." She eyed his backside playfully. "But dont hesitate to give me directions."
She leaned down and tongued gingerly at his hole.
His head fell forward, hands in fists.
"Well that's encouragement." She teased, tongue coming back. Moving in tight circles.
"Ah!" He moaned, pushing back into her.
Though he knew she was new to this she moved with practiced precision. He could tell she was very good at what she did on more feminine bodies.
"I heard this is a good spot." She murmured, her two fingers rubbing back and forth against his taint. The shudder that moved through him making her smile.
Tongue coming back to push slow pulsing heaven into him. Both sensations playing him like a fiddle. His fingernails digging into his palm.
Oh Gods it was too good. And still he needed more.
"Inside. One finger." He moaned into his arm.
She wet her finger inside her mouth, tested it in small circles around his entrance. Other hand still stimulating.
She pushed in gradually, pausing one knuckle deep. "Like this?"
"Yes," He panted. "Slowly."
"It feels so similar." She marveled, finger almost to the hilt. "How lovely."
He clenched at her words and heard a delighted giggle. "Even that! Oh!"
"If that's the same, then what about..." She curled her finger toward his navel.
He moaned loudly, buckling down.
"Oh yes," She smiled, beginning slow pulsing thrusts of her hooked finger. Other hand pushing more into his taint. Hitting his prostate from both sides.
A moaning writhing mess beneath her, he was completely gone.
"Oh how pretty, coming undone like this." She purred, leaning down to lick around her pumping fingers.
He knew he was not long for this world, the building pressure in his pelvis about to burst. Reaching around to grip her thigh with a bruising intensity.
"Such a good girl for me." She hummed.
He cried out, his end hitting him so hard he thought he would black out. A deep shuddering ripping through him. His whole world condensed to nearly agonizing waves of pleasure. Tears spilling down his cheeks he bit hard into his forearm. His cock forcing out what little he had left in him.
He collapsed comepletely flat into the ground, the damp earth holding him up.
She left his back momentarily, coming back with a cloth, wet from the river.
She pulled his slack body up to her chest, his back cradled into her. Softly wiping first his brow then working her way down.
"You dont ha-"
"This is part of it, love." She smiled, running her hand through his hair, cajoling it back into place. "You're getting the full experience."
He leaned into her, closing his eyes. Letting her bathe him clean. He knew future him would be screaming into his pillow at this but he was too blissed out to care.
"Thank you," She gave him one final wipe. Setting the cloth down and wrapping her arms loosely around his middle. "For trying this with me. For trusting me."
"You did everything and you're thanking me?" He laughed, still panting. "You're a strange woman, you know."
"If you're so insistent maybe you can do all the work next time." She pinched his side lightly.
Next time. The anxiety in his heart melting just for a moment. Oh thank the Gods.
"If Karlach doesn't beat you to it, that is."
"You're the devil."
She laughed against his back, his eyes getting heavy.
"Let's get you to your bedroll, we'll have a brand new day of bothering eachother tomorrow."
He would never admit it to her, but he was looking forward to it.
~
Part 2
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steddieasitgoes · 5 months
Text
@steddiemas Day 5 Prompt: Grinch vs Christmas Cheer
Tags: Modern AU, Eddie Munson & Jeff, Steve & Eddie Are Neighbors, Teacher Steve, Meet Cute
wc: 1863 | Rating: T
Read on ao3 | ao3 collection
“I thought you said you talked to them?” Eddie groans. He tips his head so far back he wobbles in the chair for a moment before he rights himself and buries his head in his hands. “I can’t work under these conditions!” 
“I don’t think planning a campaign counts as working,” Jeff teases. 
They’re in their apartment kitchen. Jeff cooking something that smells a hundred times better than the vending machine sandwich he had for lunch at the shop. Free from his day job, Eddie’s working on something he actually cares about now. The latest Dungeons & Dragons handbook is open to a random page while his trusty notebook sits open. There’s no use in hiding it from Jeff. It’s not like he could decipher Eddie’s chicken scratch penmanship anyway.
Besides, he hasn’t gotten much of anything done since he plopped down on the worn leather chair. It’s hard to work with the blaring sound of Mariah fucking Carey’s Christmas album playing on repeat for the third day straight coming from their neighbor's apartment. The obnoxious whirling of the fans keeping a dozen or so Christmas inflatables blown up on their shared stairwell and balcony also doesn’t help. 
If this continues any longer, Eddie swears he’s going to find them a new place to live. The peace and quiet would be worth losing out on their rent-controlled place. At least, Eddie thinks so. Christ, he misses the Richards who moved last year. He’d take their scowls and snide comments over this Christmas madness any day. 
“It absolutely counts as working,” Eddie scoffs, shooting a glare in Jeff’s direction. “And don’t change the subject, Jefferson. Did you even talk to Mr. and Mrs. Claus next door?”
Jeff snorts, shaking his head before returning to the pot of sauce he has simmering.  “No, I didn’t and I’m not going to.” 
“Jeff!” Eddie whines. “Your job as the approachable one of this house is to confront our neighbors when they’re annoying us.” 
“Okay, but they’re not annoying me.” 
“Well, that’s a lie. You hate Michael Buble as much as I do and I know you heard his stupid crooning voice at seven this morning like I did.”
“Okay, you’ve got me there,” Jeff sighs, turning away from the stove to face Eddie. “But I can’t tell them to lower their music! Not when they haven’t complained once about the shit you blare at all hours of the night or our Corroded practices when we have nowhere else to go.” 
If Eddie was less stubborn, maybe he’d see that Jeff has a point. But he is stubborn, so he doubles down instead. 
“That’s different.” 
“It’s really not.” 
“Fine,” Eddie shouts, throwing his hands up in defeat. The headache festering behind is eyes is too painful for him to keep arguing with Jeff. Besides, he’s never been able to push Jeff around. It’s why they make such good roommates. “Can you at least talk to them about their decorating habits then? I had to wade through a fucking forest of inflatables this afternoon. M’pretty sure Frosty the fucking Snowman almost punched my balls.” 
“Eds, need I remind you that a few days ago you had the entire place decked out for Halloween? How is a few inflatables different than all those skeletons and demon shit you had up?” 
“First of all, how dare you compare my artistry to whatever is going on outside,” Eddie scoffs. He’s going to give himself a sore throat if he keeps this up. “I have taste. My decorations told a story! Those inflatables aren’t even from the same properties. They’ve got Santa Mickey next to the fucking Grinch! Charlie Brown mingling with Yoda! There’s no plot!” 
Jeff’s shoulders slump, forearms coming to rest on the kitchen counter so he’s at eye level with Eddie. “Just look on the bright side. At least they haven’t done one of those obnoxious light shows like that stupid reality show.”
As if Jeff accidentally summoned a demon in the form of Christmas cheer, a burst of red and green floods their apartment. Their once dimly lit kitchen looks like the inside of a club, red and green lights flickering with the occasional white and blue mixed in. The flickers are timed with the beat of another Mariah Carey Christmas song. 
This is what hell must look like, Eddie thinks, as he glares at Jeff. 
“What did you do?” 
“I didn’t do anything,” Jeff defends, hands up in surrender. 
Eddie can seem him struggling not to laugh and it takes all the energy he can muster not to reach around the counter and playfully punch his shoulder. How can Jeff think this is funny? The flickering lights completely goes against their moody aesthetic! Not to mention it’s a health hazard! There’s no way Gareth is going to be able to come over here — not with the way he’s so sensitive to strobes. 
Jesus H. Christ and it’s only November 25th! He has to put up with this for weeks! 
“It’s not funny, Jefferson!” 
“I mean,” Jeff snorts, biting the inside of his cheek to keep his smile from growing. “It’s a little funny.” 
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The lights have not fucking stopped. Not for one single day. Eddie had hoped his neighbors would have grown tired of the constant strobing and Christmas music by now. But nope. A week and a half and its still going strong. 
He’s going to lose his goddamn mind. 
“Jeff,” Eddie hisses, lifting the blanket of his makeshift fort enough that he can make eye contact with Jeff. Or at least, try to. Jeff’s perched in their recliner with the biggest pair of sunglasses Eddie’s ever seen. “Please. I can’t take much more of this!” 
“It’s not that bad.” 
“I might have believed you if you weren’t wearing those ridiculous things,” Eddie snorts. He waits for Jeff to retort but when he doesn’t, he groans and slowly emerges from the safety of his blanket fort. Christ he forgot how bright those damn things are. 
Stalking over to their small entryway, Eddie hastily tugs on a pair of boots and reaches for the doorknob. 
“What are you doing?” Jeff asks, voice laden with concern. 
“Someone has to confront the neighbors!” 
He doesn't give him time to respond, yanking the door open and slamming it shut behind him in one fluid movement. It should be a short trip to the neighbor's front door, just a few long strides, but Eddie forgets to account for the fuckton of inflatables cluttering the path. He ducks around Frosty, flipping him off when his stupid wood arms nearly deck his balls, again and forcibly shoves Mickey’s face away from him. 
It takes another bit of carefully navigating before he finally reaches the front door adorned with a festive wreath. These people really left no spot undecorated. Eddie doesn’t spare them the decency of a nice, neighborly knock or ring of the doorbell. They’re way past that. Instead, he makes a fist and slams his knuckles into the wood door, and keeps going. Knock. Knock. Knockknockknock. 
They probably can’t hear him over the damn music, Eddie thinks, as his knuckle turns redder and redder. Just when he’s about to retreat and face Jeff’s smug wrath, the door opens. 
The first thought that passes through Eddie’s mind is oh, he’s hot. The second, more vital thought, comes a moment later. He’s going to kill Jeff. How dare he not disclose how attractive this guy is the minute he met him months ago? 
The guy, who Eddie vaguely thinks is named Steve, looks just as surprised to see him as he is. Decked out in an obnoxious Santa-themed apron and green plaid flannel pants, his cheeks are spotted with flour and his hands are stained a faint red color. Judging from the delicious aroma of vanilla and peanut butter wafting into the hallway, Eddie interrupted some very serious baking. 
“Oh, you’re not the Instacart shopper,” maybe Steve frowns. “Can I help you?” 
“Oh, uh,” Eddie trails off. He’s here for a reason, he knows this, but his mind is blank. Distracted by the smells and the lights and the gorgeous fucking man standing in front of him with hazel eyes so sparkly Eddie’s pretty sure he belongs in a cartoon. “I’m Eddie, your neighbor.” 
I’m Eddie, your neighbor? 
This cannot be the same brain that creates intricate, plot twist-ridden campaigns that last months. Absolutely not.
“Ah, so you’re Jeff’s roommate! It’s nice to finally meet you. I’m Steve.” 
“Right, Steve” Eddie nods. He’s not sure why he nods, it’s not a normal thing to do when you meet someone, and yet, he can’t stop nodding. Stop fucking nodding! 
“So, uh, what brings you by?” Steve asks, casually leaning against the doorframe. 
“Oh, I uh…” The lights. You were coming here to complain about the lights! “I came to tell you, uh… I could smell you baking!” Oh my fucking god. “You know these walls are thin and we, uh, share AC vents or something I think? So the smell was filling our place and it smelled so good I just, uh, had to come over and see what you’re baking?” 
If Jeff was here, Eddie’s pretty sure he’d be two seconds away from collapsing in a fit of laughter. Thank god he’s not. As soon as he gets back to his room, he’s going to take a lukewarm shower and try to forget this entire interaction ever happened and then hide from Steve for the rest of his life. 
“Oh, I’m making peanut butter cookies.” Steve’s smile is almost as blinding as the twinkling lights and like a moth to a flame, Eddie can’t look away. “One of my students has been having a rough time and they’re their favorite.”
“Damn, maybe if I had a teacher who baked me cookies I would have done better in school.” 
Steve laughs, “Tell me about it. Actually, uh, do you want to help? I’m allergic to peanut butter and my best friend is tied up at work. I could really use a taste tester. Make sure they’re edible.” 
“Oh, uh…” Eddie glances over his shoulder and takes in the sight of the sea of inflatables staring at him with their beady painted on eyes, squints at the obnoxious flashing lights keeping time to a terrible cover of “Jingle Bell Rock.” Together it’s the reminder he needs as to why he trekked over here in the first place, but when he turns he’s hit with a punch of peanut butter and well… “Not to toot my own horn, but I am a pretty good taste tester.” 
“Perfect,” Steve smiles, pushing himself off the doorframe. “Kitchen’s this way.” 
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Eddie returns an hour later. Belly full of joy just peanut butter cookies, but also chocolate chip, and gingerbread, and some cinnamon concoction that had him considering a marriage proposal on the spot and a tupperware overflowing with said cookies. 
Jeff is still in the living room, sunglasses shielding his eyes, but Eddie knows him well enough to know he’s judging him. 
“Don’t say a word,” Eddie sneers, heading straight for the kitchen. 
228 notes · View notes
bbanghiitomi · 5 months
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Tumblr media
| when things don't go your way
synopsis: what do you call someone you're not dating but someone in your arms? hanni asks that question herself often but always comes to the same answer: which is you.
— nonidol!filmstudent!phanni! × nonidol!journalismstudent!fem!reader
ლ⁠(⁠^⁠o⁠^⁠ლ⁠) ლ⁠(⁠^⁠o⁠^⁠ლ⁠) ლ⁠(⁠^⁠o⁠^⁠ლ⁠) ლ⁠(⁠^⁠o⁠^
honey ʕ⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴥ⁠ꈍ⁠ʔ
y/n, are u not coming to see me?
i miss you already...
haven't seen you for a month.
how's ur org doing?
received.
you find yourself smiling as you read her messages, it seems like just the casual hi and hello's, the simple updates that friends are supposed to be sharing with each other aren't enough to satisfy the pham's need to be able to see your face, hear your voice and touch you. she's right actually, the last time you've seen each other was a month ago, before your journalism organization started being busy once again and her life has been a lot more boring ever since. there have been lots of restless nights where you think to yourself that there's no such rest as good as hanni's hugs, you really need her embrace, her arms around your waist.
god i miss her…
you can't help but think to yourself whilst you sit in one of the journalism organization room swivel chairs, working in front of a computer for the next online publishing of the university's news publishing website. it's almost 9pm, the lights are dim and the last person who you were with inside the room was the radio broadcasting group's director — danielle marsh, who then left with the sports writer kang haerin. they've been going in and out together for the past couple of months, which went unnoticed by some members of the faculty as it was seen as “typical” and very on character for them to do so.
you weren't new to that thing too, it's pretty obvious they've got a thing for each other and they're pretty open about it if anything.
unlike you.
just seeing the two made you miss hanni so much more, and it's quite selfish to think of such things because everyone, including the sane part of your brain knew that there's nothing between the two of you except for friendship — worn like a cloak to hide a secret. you can't remember why this whole arrangement between you and hanni started, when did you start sharing kisses? when did you start taking her home? what was the reason you visited her place even if it was late at night? why were you even so adamant about being there for her when she needs someone? why did both of you agree not to put any meaning behind these things? those thoughts were at the back of your mind, it shouldn't matter actually and when you think about it you try not to pry yourself about how it should matter that much — at the end of the day, things are not going to change.
if the walls of your room could talk, your secrets would no longer be something shared between you and hanni.
well, you've been on thin ice for such a long time — at this point, you assume that everyone in your organization and her club already has an idea about your relationship with hanni and are quite in a stump about it but that's too far from the truth, in fact — there were hardly anyone who notices the little things you do. everytime you think about her, the shared secrets together, the things about you that only she knows — you can't even find a reason to hate yourself for entertaining something people won't find appealing. it's been so long, why would you even go back to where it all started to stop this from escalating even further when you could just go with it until the end.
you know, you're going to hold onto this till the end, thinking that there will be that time where you and hanni can settle things down and accept what needs to be accepted and leave what needs to be left behind.
maybe, things will get better eventually…
you just hope you can stick with this until — you can finally call her… yours.
honey ʕ⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴥ⁠ꈍ⁠ʔ
hm…
i'll think about it.
miss me already?
the org's doing just fine, hbu?
sent.
you drop your phone on the table as you close the tabs of the computer and then turn the computer off. you stay on the chair for a few more minutes, waiting for her reply as you fiddle the hem of your shirt with your fingers. quite nervous, confused as to why you were nervous — you can't help but just laugh, not having any explanation as to why you're suddenly acting like a giddy teenager girl over your so-called "friend".
crap… you think to yourself, it's really late now but you were hoping to see her again, at least even for just an hour or-so.
i wonder what she's up to now.
honey ʕ⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴥ⁠ꈍ⁠ʔ
oh! the club's doing well!
we just finished our project and were hoping to release it soon.
you know how giddy i get about it, right?
i wish you were here with me so i can tell you all about it.
received.
you feel the familiar heat crawling up to your cheeks, you tap at the screen only for a few seconds and then pick it up. you wonder why, even before you kissed her, no matter how many times you tried setting yourself up with other girls — it wasn't effective at all. behind those words you told other people is hanni lingering at the back of your mind, the image of her face clear in your eyes until you just gave up, leaving yourself falling into her arms.
just how many times have i tried?
i can't even remember.
you thought then just gave up.
honey ʕ⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴥ⁠ꈍ⁠ʔ
yeah…
i wish i was there, where are you anyway?
i mean, maybe i can come and see you.
right?
sent.
you stare at her message for a few seconds then you stand up and grab your bag that's been left unattended on the floor for a few hours since you first started working on the articles. you have absolutely no idea about what you're doing, it's just you doing whatever once again and doing it in the most random time ever but that's just because you missed hanni so much.
it won't hurt, right?
spending just some time to see her again.
honey ʕ⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴥ⁠ꈍ⁠ʔ
wait, really?
i mean…
that's great!
but what about your roommate?
will minji not look for you?
received.
that's the thing, minji has been your roommate for almost two years — yes, that long. she's practically like your sibling at this point, one that you can always trust and lean on when you need a shoulder to hold onto or someone to cry on. minji used to be also a part of the film making organization in your university. she used to work with hanni on some projects for school until she left to focus on writing her own stuff on her own accord. so, minji is someone hanni already knew before she met you.
minji knows your thing with hanni and is at first troubled by it, but then it's not like it's something unethical, right? it's just secrets and a relationship with no label, it doesn't hurt anyone aside from you and hanni. that's the thing, minji feels bad that you subject yourself to self-harm — which is a relationship where you have no right to feel jealous about. she knows it sucks, how many times have she asked you: “what’s really between you and hanni?” and you always answer her. “nothing, we're close friends.” even though she's seen you cuddling with hanni on your couch, awfully closer than normal.
she worries your mother might find out even before you make it official between the two of you,
you know, she knows you're screwed if it were to happen.
minji has basically given up prying her way into your business but still tries to watch out whenever you feel sad or frustrated. she's always there when you need her — she's obviously a great friend that even your parents trust.
honey ʕ⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴥ⁠ꈍ⁠ʔ
nah, don't worry
i’ll tell her.
she’ll be alright.
where are you?
sent.
honey ʕ⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴥ⁠ꈍ⁠ʔ
great, i’m here at my condominium
just, you know? waiting…
hope you come here asap
;)))
received.
you grab your backpack and sling to your shoulder, making your way past the rows of computers lined and exiting the room. you see the dim corridor, your eyes follow along the lines of doors and the straight path to the stairways, and under the dark hall the pictures of when you first met hanni lingered at the back of your mind, right at the end of the corridor.
r u carps, min?
hey minji,
bro
i won't be home 2night
take care of the dorm and heat up the pizza
i got some money under the flower base and just take it to order sum whatever…
lov ur roommate, y/n
sent.
and with a blink, you come back to reality and start running your way to the stairs and reaching the ground floor — rushing as soon as possible to get to the open parking lot where your scooter is parked, you open your top box with your keys and immediately place your bag inside before locking it once again.
r u carps, min?
dude wtf?
why now? ur mom will be here tomorrow.
y/n?
hey!
BRO!!!!
ur such an asshole
you know that?
come on…
ur dead
received.
as the engine ignites, all your worries are pushed back behind before the motor accelerates and you finally find your way outside the campus then to her condominium.
“you’ve been away for so long.” hanni grumbles, arms wrapping themselves around your torso, you laugh at her expression, a cute pout adoring her pink lips and her eyes full of stars inside of them. it's almost like she has the universe in her pupils. “only for a month by the way, i’m guessing you really feel lonely here.” you tell her, raising your brows at her direction with a smile on your lips. she nods, snuggling closer to your body on the bed, she feels like a koala the way she couldn't let go of your figure.
“of course! aside from my parents, you're really the only one i want here with me.” she says, well it's nothing but the truth but hearing it made something inside you tremble. it's something you cannot understand but something you feel very deep inside, you only smile at her.
she could bring anyone she wants here.
and you would still not be able to tell her nothing, because you have no right to do so.
she's free to do whatever she wants to do.
and that must be your fault, right?
you place a hand on top of her head, patting her soft hair under your palm. “seriously, this is why you feel lonely. having a friend or two here other than me wouldn't be so bad.” you express out of genuine feelings, though it's nice to know you're the only one she wants, you can't help but feel guilty that you're making her wait or expect too much to the point she's not allowing anyone inside of her life aside from you.
at the end of the day, you only want her to be happy.
but that's not the case, for a relationship that doesn't have any label — hanni seems committed to it.
you haven't even said anything but she's already sure she's yours, and it honestly makes you feel bad even if it is a mutual feeling you two both share.
“i really only want you…” hanni buries her head on your neck, snuggling close for warmth and you can't help but wrap your arm around her, to keep her close as if anyone was going to take her away from you if you don't. “it's okay, i won't be away for any longer anymore. i promise.” you whisper, you feel hanni nod her head and feel her lips against your skin as she speaks. “promise me you’ll be here with me forever?” you look down on her, eyes directly on her cheek, her face hidden on your neck. “i will.” you smile at her.
maybe, you are really that tired that when you open your eyes it's already 9am in the morning yet hanni is still wrapped around your arms. the sun shines so much brighter on days like this, it must have been her presence beside you and everyday should have been like this if things were different.
there is still a chance for you to change it.
you start to see it.
“are you sure i can come to you and minji’s place today?” hanni asks, looking up from her plate of food, she tilts her head as she asks, eyes meeting your own pair. “well yeah, you know minji would never mind.” you say, bringing your utensils down before smiling at her direction. “besides, it’s not a busy day today.” you add.
you take the helmet in hanni’s hands and help her wear it on her head, making sure it's strapped tight. as your hands let go of the helmet, you notice hanni staring at your face and you raise your brows at her. “what?” you ask. hanni giggles and shakes her head. “nothing, i just… feel giddy about being with you today after what felt like forever.” she says and you almost saw the entire galaxy inside of her eyes the way it shines, the wait the light sparkles, you can't help but be mesmerized.
you nod at her and place a kiss on her cheek. “of course, it's not everyday we get to be like this together.” you huff and hop on the motor, hanni follows and wraps her arms around your waist.
when you get to your shared apartment’s front door you notice the weird aura of the place, you hesitate to open the door as you stand still looking at the wooden entrance, hanni peeks behind you and wonders why you haven't touched the doorknob.
now… i must be paranoid.
it's oddly quiet or somehow, there's a strange presence looming around the place and you don't know what it was.
you take the doorknob in your hand and feel its cold surface, sending shivers on your spine. you twist it and enter inside, slowly stepping a foot and looking around to see if anyone beside minji is present, hanni follows quietly but is still confused. your eyes widen when you spot your mom standing by the living room and seemingly pacing around, in panic and quite in a rush, impatient.
you feel a rush of adrenaline pumping in your veins as you immediately take a step back, pull hanni outside then close the door gently. “w-what’s wrong? is there an intruder inside?” hanni asks, worried that there might actually be an intruder, which ironically turned out to be your mom. you laugh sheepishly and scratch the back of your head. “uh no? i just remembered that minji wasn't around and… we can go grab food somewhere before coming back—” your words are cut off when the door opens to, none other than minji.
“minji..?” hanni looks behind you, to the door as minji stands with a hard expression on her face.
“where have you been?” minji asks, her tone is strict and impatient for an immediate answer, her eyes bore behind you and then dart back at hanni. “and why is hanni here?” she adds to the pile of questions.
you turn around and shake your head. “ah, i didn't know you were here… crap, i was at her place yesterday and i thought i’d hang around with her here ‘cause you wouldn't mind, right?” you shrug, minji kept her serious face but sighs, rubbing her temple with her fingers. “y/n, i won't of course. but you know who will?” she says, clearly frustrated.
hanni squints her eyes at minji. “who?”
“her mom, she's here today, waiting for y/n inside.” minji answers, you flinch at the idea before turning your head at hanni who frowns and looks away. “i didn't know she'd be here!” you whisper aggressively, rubbing your face with your hand.
“dude, i messaged you yesterday. you didn't even bother reading it.” minji argues, which was the truth but you were riding your scooter to hanni's place when you received the message — it was the reason you didn't have the time to read it.
with your face buried on your palm, you grumbled. “dude, i was riding my scooter that time…”
hanni sighs and places her hand on your shoulder, you put your head up and look at her. “i’m leaving for now i guess, you'd be in more trouble if she sees me.” hanni says, giving you a small smile.
you furrow your brows, you think to yourself that there must be a way — there's something you can definitely do, doesn't matter what there has to be something!
you stare at her, pursing your lips before reaching out for her hand and shaking your head. “no, you'll stay. don't worry i’ll take care of this, please just stay.” you tell her, minji’s expression turns into confusion — as if, your ways of salvaging you and hanni's relationship seemed absurd to minji's level of understanding.
“wait? y/n are you crazy? you're gonna get you both in trouble!” minji says, already scolding you even before the trouble happens. you look at her and shake your head, holding hanni’s hand tight. “no, that's my mom — i know her, we’ll be alright. i promise.” you look back at hanni to give her a small smile again, caressing the soft skin of her hand under yours to soothe the unstable feeling stressing her out.
the door opens once again but this time it's your mother who exits and her eyes dart at the three figures standing. “y/n? where have you been, young lady!” she yells, you laugh and look at her with a sheepish expression before pulling hanni slightly closer beside you. “i stayed somewhere only for a night. i swear, no troubles.” your mother seems to notice hanni’s presence beside you and raises her brow towards hanni, her scary aura unchanging.
hanni took a deep breath, opening her lips as if about to say a word but she fails miserably when your mother glares at her. “and who is this girl?” your mother asks, her voice asking irritatedly. you look at hanni before wrapping your arm around her torso, getting a look of doubt from your mother but mostly directed to hanni, who gulps a lump inside her throat. “hi — i’m y/n’s —”
“she's my girlfriend, mom.” you grin at your mother, hanni and minji both looked shocked at the sudden revelation — you were confident, this time you’re sure and there's no way you’ll take it back again, not this time or never again. hanni looks at you and her eyes shake when it meets your mother's gaze.
“oh, what..?” minji mutters, feeling her head spinning, she blinks in confusion and looks at the three people all facing one another. hanni blushes, aggressively gripping the hem of your shirt, looking up at you as if you said something crazy which is indeed crazy, out of character even.
“oh, really?” your mom adds, her voice softens but her eyes remain the same.
hanni looks at your mom, nodding her head gently.
“yes, i’m your daughter’s girlfriend, ma'am. nice to meet you…” hanni smiles, still quite hesitant, like a curious cat dipping its paws in something it doesn't know — but in hanni’s case she has her hand sticking out for a handshake.
somehow, your mother's eyes softened or is hanni just deluding herself into believing so?
she hopes, your mom did — because she shouldn't be seeing things, she's still sane after all!
yes, your mother did soften her gaze.
hanni may not be that crazy after all.
just a little, just for you.
“yeah! you're okay with it, right mom? hanni’s a very nice girl and she lets me sleep at her place when i stay at school late and she cooks me breakfast and she helps me with my homeworks. she helps me clean my room, helps me with my laundry and —” even before you finish rambling about how hanni basically keeps your life stable your mom raises her index finger to your way to shush you down before she steps forward to take a closer look at hanni.
your mother looks at hanni’s hand and reaches for it before shaking it, feeling hanni’s sweating and trembling hand. “nice to meet you, is my daughter too much work? i know she's a little handful sometimes.” you slump your shoulders as you mother jokes, hanni laughs— you notice the change in her voice, feeling your girlfriend starting to relax herself. “she isn't, i’m happy to be helping her.” hanni answers, feeling her cheeks flush and her blood boiling on her face.
“that's good to know, she's very dependent.”
minji nods and huffs. “yes, she is!” you roll your eyes at her.
you mother lets go of hanni’s hand and turns away to walk inside the door, but before she enters she calls for minji. “help me arrange the table.” she says, to which minji followed almost immediately.
hanni feels like laughing, there's a certain type of warmth blooming inside of her when she realizes what just happened. she blinks only for a bit, trying to do something to make sure she isn't daydreaming or dreaming whilst asleep — and she had just confirmed that she is indeed awake, none of what happened was fake and the warmth of your arm proved it.
“hanni.” you call out to her. hanni puts a hand on her mouth and looks up at you, starstrucked to actually see your mother up close.
“i’m your girlfriend?” she asks, to make sure you're not bluffing.
you smile and nod, giving her the type of gaze that means “i love you”.
“you are, you're my girlfriend.” you tell her.
hanni feels like crying this time, there's something about it that she can't explain — something about finally being able to hold onto something that isn't a thin thread of hope for something that will break apart in no time, without her knowing. something about finally being able to actually express her feelings without holding back sends waves of relief inside of hanni.
why has she not thought of this earlier? why didn't you tell her that earlier?
hanni embraces you in a tight hug, her face buried in your shoulder as she sobs. “oh my god…” you feel her speak. you laugh, petting her head. “hey now, i promise i’m not lying.”
hanni sniffs and looks up at you. “i love you.” she whispers, eyes covered with tears and cheeks are bright red, before breaking into a wide smile. “i love you too.” you tell her back before giving her a small kiss on her lips.
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azulock · 3 months
Text
another thing that was sitting in my drats for way too long, pt 2 to pregnancy needs so you should go back and reader that first, but that one is porn without plot, this one has more plot
summary. at the end of your pregnancy, when the big moment approached, Oliver's affair with you had to be put on hold as you just stopped showing up. it stayed that way until a few months after your son was born, but when you go back to your old routine he sees a chance to get back to your old ways, though something else lurks in his mind
pairing. Oliver Aiku x fem!reader
wordcount. 3,9k
warnings. nsfw (piv), reader has a baby, mentions of the pregnancy, once again reader cheating on her husband
Tumblr media Tumblr media
trying not to think.
"Aww, isn't him cute?" Sendo beamed, bright eyes glued on the small baby held in his arms. The little boy cooed in return, the small sound barely audible as he reached a hand towards Sendo's hair, wrapping a tiny fist tight around it. "Ouch, hey, hey, little guy, this hurts."
Oliver couldn't help but laugh as the redhead struggled to get the boy to release his hair, but with a little patience, he managed the task. Finally freed, Sendo babbled along with the baby for a second before moving to pass him on to Oliver's arms, a knowing grin spreading across his face when his friend froze in hesitation for a moment. In a way, the situation was funny, if a bit weird.
When he finally managed to hold the boy in his arms, it was like the whole situation dawned on him. This was the first time you'd visited the club in a couple of months - ever since little before the birth of your son - and he'd barely even seen your face. Now, he was holding your baby.
Oliver had caught you talking to Sendo when he was passing by, heading out for lunch. You'd befriended Sendo way before you even exchanged words with Oliver, so it made sense he'd be the first in the team you'd show your newborn to. When he spotted the two of you in the training center, a part of him was hoping that maybe he'd be able to get a word in after not seeing you in months.
Tough, he wasn't so lucky. The minute he stepped close, someone else called you, and you excused yourself, asking Sendo to hold the baby as you stepped away. He'd barely even gotten to hear your voice - and Oliver didn't want to dwell on how that made him feel right now. Especially not when he was trying to wrap his head around the boy he now held in his arms.
Small babies all looked sort of the same. He guessed it was more a feature than a bug, probably at some point in the distant past, if you couldn't tell which child was yours and which wasn't, you were more likely to care about all of them. Or so he guessed, at least. But despite that, the more obvious features connecting the child to you were there.
The little boy shared the complexion of your skin, the tiny birthmark you had on the side of your neck, and the color of your eyes too. Oliver couldn't help but think of that last part as a relief. Sometimes he'd think about what would have happened if the kid had been born with green eyes. Or purple. Or worse, both.
That would be the end of his career, at least in the Ubers, that was for sure. And probably a scandal for you too, a far more cruel fate, seeing he could always retreat back to Japan. But that had been avoided. The boy did have deep black hair, though still too short and soft to discern what the texture would be like. But this too could be explained away - your husband's hair was black, so you were both safe on that front too.
However, that still left more questions open than closed - ah, he had just been handed the child, he shouldn't be thinking on that now. The baby looked at him as if just as deep in thought before babbling on happily, making Oliver feel an invisible force tugging at the corner of his lips. He couldn't deny the little boy looked cute, clad in a onesie adorned with the coat of the club.
"Hey there, little guy, you really are cute, look at those big ol' cheeks," Oliver cooed as the boy made a cheerful noise, the small gesture bringing a strange warmth to his heart. He adjusted his hold on the child, and that's when the boy's tiny hand reached up. Before Oliver could react, the baby caught a fistful of his chin. "Fuck, hey now, that's not nice."
It was Sendo's turn to laugh, watching as Oliver pried himself free from the aggressively affectionate baby. He gave the child one last look, heavy gaze taking in how the boy looked so small cradled in his arms, but his tiny body still managed to spread its warmth to Oliver's chest. With a sigh and shake of his head, he passed the boy back to Sendo - somehow, even if your affair hadn't been found out, it felt safer not to risk your husband seeing him holding the baby.
Little after Sendo took the boy back in his arms, you showed up. However, you wasted little time with proper compliments and little small talk as you took the baby back in your arms, and quickly you excused yourself and left again. Though your stay was short, Oliver couldn't help noticing the bags under your eyes. Still, he kept his mouth shut, and in no time both him and Sendo were making their way out for lunch.
"So," Sendo broke the silence after the waiter set their food on the table, "you think the boy is yours?"
It was only in the relative safety of the somewhat hidden cafe that either of them felt safe to broach the subject again. Oliver couldn't help the sigh that left his lips at the blunt inquiry, slumping back into his chair as he rubbed his eyes with one hand. That was the question hanging above his head, and although he knew it was one with a good and a bad answer, Oliver himself wasn't sure if he wanted to know.
"Hard to tell," he groaned, looking down at his plate for a moment before finally turning to face Sendo, "but I guess that's for the best. Has she told you anything about that?"
"Never touched the subject," he shrugged.
"Did you ever even ask?"
"How would I ask, Aiku? Turn to her like hey, you think that kid is your husband's or from your affair you had with the captain of the team he manages?" Sendo leaned forward, muttering the last part, but the words still ringing too loud in Oliver's ears.
"Haha very funny," his voice came in a sneer, an expression he hardly ever had to shoot in Sendo's direction. "You two are friends, I thought she'd have told you something."
"Sorry if this hurts your ego, but she doesn't talk about you much, at least not to me," Sendo added with a half hearted smile and a nonchalant wave of his hand. Though, his eyebrows quickly furrowed in estrangement when he noticed Oliver's hesitation, and the weird stillness that settled over him. "Wait, that actually hurt your ego?"
"Forget it, never mind, some questions are better unanswered," he grumbled, and a silence fell for a moment as they both ate, though, it didn't last. "Did she look... tired to you? Like, the bags under her eyes were noticeable."
"Well, she did just have a child," Sendo shrugged, "babies are hard, or so I've been told."
"Yeah, but, it's not like they are a struggling family, you'd figure she would have help."
"They got a nanny, I think. But if you haven't noticed, her husband hasn't even taken a leave. For all I know, the guy isn't very interested i helping," Sendo added with a shake of his head, eyes downcast as he took a bite of his food.
"He really is a good for nothing," Oliver mused, mimicking his friend's expression.
"That's why I never even tried to stop you," Sendo shook his shoulders and there was a pause, a moment filled with only the sound of the restaurant before it was broken. "Though, you worried about her?"
Before he could answer they both heard the loud and familiar voice of Lorenzo, turning to the side they caught their teammate just entering the cafe. With an exchange of knowing looks, the conversation died. And for a moment there, Oliver actually felt relieved. There were things he didn't want to think too hard on right now.
Time would pass, and for a couple of months he'd hardly manage to catch sight of you. And whoever he did, you always had your baby in your arms. Despite what some would think, he had more respect than to try and make a move on you under those circumstances.
The next time he'd finally see you alone would be after you returned to your work as a photographer with the club, on the day of a match. It was strange to think about it now, but sometimes even during matches he'd find himself looking at the point in the sidelines where you usually worked from. Seeing someone else in there for so long was strangely off-putting.
Of course, during match day approaching you would be impossible - and absurdly reckless. But that just assured him you'd be back to the training center at some point, seeing you were the one in charge of social media and PR photos. Just as expected, it wouldn't be long for Oliver to be proven right - and just on a day your useless husband was on a work trip.
In a way, it was like settling back into a routine. Approaching you in an empty hallway, pulling you into some isolated room, and then having your body turn to putty in his hands. And although he'd had his fair share of women in the past few months, he couldn't deny he missed the taste of your lips - fuck, he knew there was danger in this.
This time, however, you hesitated to say you'd be alone today - no husband, no nanny, though he knew alone was a relative term in this case. But he didn't hesitate to say you wouldn't need to be, not as long as he had a say in it. And just like that, he was back to taking a different route home. Sure, it was shameful to be sneaking into somebody else's home, but at this point, he didn't really care.
Just as Oliver stepped foot into your house, it didn't take long for you two to end up tangled in bed. It was like falling back into a habit - an addiction, maybe. One he'd kept an unbroken streak of freedom from for a few months, now shattered in his very hands. Not that he minded, not when those same hands found purchase on the plush of your thighs while he crushed you under him on the bed.
The sight before him was definitely a beautiful one, having you sprawled and panting under his frame was still something else. Your clothes were left somewhere along the floor of the room and your naked body only stoked the fire burning in him, the only thing separating your bodies now being the thin fabric of his boxers. Oliver had never been someone to be in a rush, he always liked just taking his time but right now he was too frenzied for that.
You cry out his name and Oliver dives into your lips like a starving man, your tongues tangling in a sloppy and wet kiss. He doesn't wanna think about how he missed this taste, this feeling, and the warmth it spread through his body. So he just indulges in the sweet taste of your mouth and the soft embrace of your body, pushing back the voice in his head that's trying to be rational at a time like this.
He digs his fingers into your thighs, trying to remember not to grope you too hard so he won't leave a mark - something now more than ever he really wishes he could. That too he pushes to the back of his mind, rocking his hips into yours, pressing his bulge against your pussy, and feeling your wetness seep into the fabric of his boxers.
With a reluctant grunt, Oliver breaks your kiss, a string of saliva connecting the two of you for a moment as your mouths separate. However he doesn't stay away for long, quickly taking off his underwear, his erection painfully hard and already leaking precum. In the blink of an eye, he is back to where he was before, fingers digging into your soft thighs as he wraps your legs around his waist, lips seeking the warmth of your mouth once again.
You pull Oliver closer with your legs, making his cock slide over your wet pussy, drawing a moan from the both of you. He climbs over you, holding himself above you with one arm, his free hand finding your chest and gently kneading one of your breasts as your lips meet. Truth be told he wanted nothing more than to sink his mouth on your tender nipples again, but he knew he shouldn't - what with the baby now.
Oliver feels you moan into the kiss when he rubs his cock over your pussy once more, teasing your clit with every movement. You try to pull him even closer with your legs, trying to get him inside without letting his lips leave yours. Oliver can't help the chuckle that rumbles through his chest and dies on your tongue, your desperation is cute, and it feeds his ego.
Sadly, he is too desperate himself to be playing this game today. So he takes his from your chest to line his sensitive cock with your pussy and in one swift movement he buries himself all the way home. Shit, with how wet you are you really must have been going insane with need. He bites into your bottom lip as you moan, feeling your walls tighten around him, making his cock throb in response. Fuck, he could stay just like this forever.
"Oliver," you whine, clearly having different plans.
"Ooh," he coos with a chuckle, "someone's needy today, huh?" He punctuates his words by pushing himself in even further, hips flush against your own.
"Shit, come on, Oli," you almost whimper, making him shudder, "please."
"Alright, alright," he responds in a whisper, leaving a kiss on the place where your jaw meets your ear. "I'm gonna take care of you, gotta give pretty mamma the relief she deserves."
You sink your nails into his shoulder and he grunts, snapping his hips into motion, drawing himself back to the tip before sinking back in. Fuck, Oliver couldn't resist you - not that he wanted to anyway. It was just way too good, your gummy walls sucking his thick cock into the soft touch of your wetness was almost enough to make him go crazy. And if that wasn't enough, the moans and cries spilling from your lips would finish the job of doing away with his sanity.
Oliver sinks his mouth to your neck, seeking your sensitive skin like a starving man, leaving wet, open mouthed kisses wherever he can touch. You are crying and whimpering in need and desperation, but noticeably far less loud than the last time he'd had a chance to fuck you. It makes sense - wouldn't want to wake the brand new human in the next room - but he can't say he doesn't miss all the noise. Still, not a big enough of a loss to make this any less pleasurable.
The soft and expensive mattress starts to shake around you as Oliver drives himself into your body fast and rough. Your arms come around him and pull his body flush against your own, sweat pooling between the two of you. He could get lost forever in the sensation of your ass slapping against his hips with every thrust and the feeling of your wet pussy begging for his cock. You are mewling, face screwed up in pleasure, eyes rolling to the back of your head every time he sinks into you - it's a sight that has him breathless.
"Look at you, such a pretty thing, how could anyone neglect you, huh?" He asks but you don't answer, too lost in pleasure to even register, only whimpering when he slips his thumb into your mouth. "Shit, and you sound so good too."
He pulls his thumb from your mouth, a trail of saliva following as it traces a path from your lips to your jaw. Oliver meets you in a sloppy kiss, finding no resistance as your tongue seeks for his own. He slides his hand down your body, kneading your flesh along the way until he finds the place where your hips meet, thumb quickly finding your clit. You moan into the kiss and he swallows it hungrily, feeling your pussy tighten even more.
Oliver curses under his breath, swearing in a low husky tone with every delicious thrust into your velvety walls. Your body feels molded for him, responding to his every movement, your nails digging into his shoulder and back leaving red marks in their wake. It makes him go crazy, cock throbbing and twitching inside of you.
The clenching of your pussy lets Oliver know he is doing things right - but it also drives him mindless with pleasure. He is babbling sweet nothings against your lips, forehead resting against yours as he whispers to you compliments that he won't even remember the second they leave his lips. Shit, if he was still capable of shame, he'd be ashamed at how fast his body responds to yours.
He's doing his best to keep his mind on the task at hand, his fingers never stopping massaging your clit, even as he can feel himself throbbing wildly, the coil in his guts tightening hard. It's not like you make things easier, moaning his name in pleas for more as the walls of your pussy stretch around his thick, twitching cock.
You start to grow silent, only quiet whimpers leaving your lips as your pussy clenches hard around him. Oliver can tell you are close, moving his hips deeper and harder as he murmurs in your ear, lust laced words dripping from his husky tones. It doesn't take much for you to break, orgasm hitting your body and making you tighten around him as you cum.
It's a surprise for Oliver that his mind doesn't give in right then and there, but his self control wins this battle even as his hips move faster and faster, seemingly with a mind of their own. The pleasure warms his body, trickling through his sweat covered skin, rising higher and higher until it has him drooling on your neck, mind completly blank. The hand he had on your clit moves to your leg, pushing your tigh against your chest and letting him go even deeper.
Oliver pushes on, harder and faster, chasing his high. He can feel his balls tighten, his muscles tense, and his cock throb within your walls, precum mixing with your juices making his movements even easier. He's panting between grunts, feeling the pleasure growing ever hotter, ever stronger, building inside until he is bursting at the seams.
When his mind finally snaps, Oliver sees white, stars filling his vision as his orgasm washes over him. His hips still move as he rides through the pleasure in short, deep strokes, burying his cum far into your pussy. It feels like ecstasy, a drug running through his veins, and it's not enough. Just painting your insides white once is not nearly enough.
So he does it again, and again, he doesn't know for how long you two keep on fucking but he cums inside your pussy at least a couple of times. It's like time had gotten lost for him, a concept too complex to exist in that moment. By the end of it, you two are exhausted, left panting on the bed but utterly satisfied. It's pure bliss - he could almost fall asleep if he just closed his eyes.
That's when the crying starts.
"Shit, Luca" you curse under your breath, rubbing your face with both hands. "He's probably hungry, I should go get him."
Your eyes meet his as you speak, before turning to look around for your clothes and trying to get up. Oliver is faster, though, sitting in bed in one swift movement before you can get yourself up.
"It's ok, I can go get him for you."
"You don't need to, it's ok," you say, still trying to get up, but Oliver is already picking up his boxers from the floor and putting them on.
"It's nothing, I can do it for you," he says, putting his pants on before looking you straight in the face with a smirk. "Besides, if you got up that easy I'd feel a little offended. He's in the next room, right?"
You laugh but still nod, thanking him as he gets to the doorway. In quick, long steps Oliver gets to the next room, opening the door to find the soft green walls of the nursery. Pushed against the furthest wall is a large wooden crib, the clear source of the crying. Covering the space in a large stride, Oliver peers into the crib to find the squealing baby, hands brushing over his soft hair - despite the wailing, he was cute.
Strong arms lift your son with ease, and despite his strength, Oliver's hold is gentle and careful, dual colored eyes mesmerized by the small thing he is holding. When he cradles the little boy to his chest the crying ceases, but for only a moment, only long enough for the baby's eyes to land on Oliver and realize that's not his mother. When the crying resumes, it seems louder - almost like a protest of disappointment.
"Yeah, I'm sorry buddy, I'm not your mom," Oliver chuckles, walking back to the bedroom. "We getting there, I'm gonna get you to her."
When he gets back, Oliver finds you sat up against the headboard of the bed, covers bunched around your waist, but your chest exposed. Still bathed in the afterglow of your night together, you looked beautiful, but this was not the moment for him to say it. Instead, Oliver delivers the baby back to your arms, and as if by magic, the crying immediately stops.
You thank him, voice soft and a bit tired, just as you position your son in your arms, the boy quickly latching to a nipple. Oliver can't help but stay still for a moment, watching the scene as your attention diverts to the baby in your arms. You smile and he doesn't want to think about how he finds the scene so beautiful, or how he is struggling to convince himself he needs to leave.
Though, when you look back to him the spell is broken, and Oliver cuts the eye contact by trying to look for his shirt on the floor. He finds it and then his shoes, quickly getting dressed while trying to push away the strange sting in the back of his mind. When he's done he excuses himself with a smile and leaves. By this point, he has the way out memorized, same with the drive back to his apartment. Which was good, because that night, as his tense hands gripped the wheel tight, he couldn't stop his mind from wandering back to all the thoughts he'd been trying to ignore.
Shit, he was so fucked.
today's sponsors: @wishiknewwhatiwasdoingwithmylife @qichun @loser-vxbez @tinnaagine
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maximotts · 1 year
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OKAY OKAY wing okay cool yes. But wing and nipple play AT THE SAME TIME but refusing to touch angel anywhere else. She cums from that and not at all
ALRIGHT ALRIGHT SO HEAR ME OUT!! R showing Nat how sensitive Wanda is because one day they were talking about it and Nat looked curious so ... ya know.. gotta help the bestie get hands on knowledge! (For anyone who doesn't know, in this AU, Natasha is a demon and R's best friend)
Can't believe you got me to spend my afternoon writing a whole angel babie fic, kit kat, how dare you... anyways this is extremely unedited because I didn't expect it to be this long so.. ya get what ya get, homos. I have gnocchi to cook
read the rest of the AU here. wc: 2.6k cw: 18+ only please . angelWanda/demons!Natasha and reader . threesomes, wing play, nipple play, innocence and corruption kink x2 because Nat has some Thoughts about her bestie's new angel girlfriend, orgasm denial, a sprinkle of degradation, kinda manipulation but not really because Wanda just doesn't understand why these two demons are giggling like they have an inside joke
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When you first bring it up, it's over a few drinks because in any state, you never stop talking about your pretty angel girlfriend.
"Her wings always look so soft, but I think she might be offended if I ask to touch them." Nat's met angels before, but she's never been friends with them; as much as she enjoys trouble, she hadn't tread that far. Yet.
You shrug, understanding her point. It was a while before you asked to touch them on purpose, part of you scared the second you intentionally laid a warm hand on her bright white wings, Wanda would be banished instantly. "Nat, I'm telling you, if you touch her wings she gets so sensitive. It's like a magic button, drives her wild."
Alcohol always makes your tongue looser, but even sober, you'd tell Natasha anyways. The two of you shared everything with one another- which gives you an idea.
And maybe you'd teased Wanda already with the idea of having Nat join in to which she always tries to deny how often she stares at your friend, how eagerly she climbs into her lap when she's allowed... the handful of times you'd caught Wanda trying to sneakily grind down on the bulge from Nat's pants when she felt it under her thigh for too long.
Nat notices, but she's never touched Wanda in any way not strictly platonic. Still whenever those soft feathers flutter near her, she has to wonder. "If she says it's alright and you won't kill me for getting close to her, I wouldn't say no to trying."
So then it's a few days later when Natasha is over and the three of you are lazing about when you decide to put your plan into action. It's easy enough when Wanda's always cuddled up to you, your fingers lightly running between her exposed shoulder blades until she's shuddering. "Stop it, that tickles!"
It instantly pulls Natasha's focus, watching Wanda's previously still form twitch and fidget with every touch you put on her skin. You weren't doing much at all, but it was enough to make your girlfriend distracted. She was always mortified when you teased her in front of your friends, mostly because she didn't mind them watching and just realizing that made her want to shrink away from the exhibitionism.
But this was worse because right now it was just Natasha, the girl you'd made Wanda admit many times how attracted she was to her and the ways she tried getting off on her as if the other two wouldn't notice. Something about it being just the three of you affected Wanda in unexpected ways. "What's the matter, I thought you liked back scratches?"
"I do!" Wanda didn't want to risk one of her favorite things, shooting up to face you on the couch, "Just... lower. It's different when you touch there!"
"Different because it makes your tummy all fluttery?" The brunette nodded quickly, trying to shush you and diffuse the conversation before you could reveal too much with your friend around. But this is exactly what you wanted to reveal. "Nat doesn't mind, she wants to see too. She told me last weekend, right Nat?"
Wanda stopped then, shyly twisting around to face the other woman who was amusedly watching the discourse between you two. "I said only if she says it's okay. Doesn't look like she wants me to know."
You pushed Wanda closer to Natasha's spot on the couch, settling behind her and dropping your chin to rest on Wanda's shoulder. "Oh she wants you too. She's told me before she loves the attention you give her when you're over," Sly hands wrapped around Wanda's waist, keeping her still so that even in shying away, she's still in full view. "Go on, angel, tell Natty what you told me."
"I don't remember..." Wanda didn't like lying, but how was she supposed to admit to Nat's curious face that she wanted to try things with her.
It'd been comparable to pulling teeth getting her to admit it the first time, but you weren't as willing to wait today. "Lying isn't very nice, sweetheart," Even if Wanda wouldn't admit it, you wouldn't let it stop you and your friend having some fun. "I know you remember being laid on our bed all pretty for me, stretched open wide because you teased yourself with Tasha's strap all afternoon and begged me to use the big toy on you after she left."
This was the first Nat heard of that particular incident, but she wasn't surprised; while she'd never laid an intimate hand on her, Wanda certainly used her however she pleased and you laughed about it with the redhead frequently. "Luckily for her, I don't want to see what she looks like filled and stretched today."
"Show me what you were saying about her wings. I saw that with my own eyes just now so she can't deny it," Natasha sat up on her knees now, matching you and Wanda, and she couldn't help but laugh watching the girl visibly gulp. "Don't be scared, angel. I won't bite."
"She actually loves when you bite her a little." Wanda huffed at your comment, but she'd rather keep quiet than provoke either of you any further. Despite her earlier denial, she'd suffered more than a few dreams featuring her sandwiched between the two of you and she knew enough not to risk ruining whatever was happening here.
She didn't protest when you slid her dress straps off her shoulders, letting the silk fabric pool at her waist, and you rewarded her with a kiss to her rosy cheek. "Be a good girl and let me show you off for a bit. You trust me, right? We won't hurt you, Natty just wants to see what a beautiful angel I have."
Wanda nodded her agreement as you rubbed soothing circles into her hips, focusing on that instead of how riled up just being nearly fully exposed to Natasha made her feel. "I know neither of you would hurt me, but I don't want to do the wrong thing..."
"You couldn't possibly do anything wrong," Nat cut in then, hooking her finger under Wanda's chin and giving her a kiss of her own on the tip of her nose. She'd kissed various spots on her face a handful of times, but in this context, it felt different and the older demon couldn't wait to see how Wanda would react. "Poor thing looks cold, let's warm her up a bit."
"She's a huge fan of demon warmth and now she's got two! She won't be cold for long," you chuckled, finally moving one of your hands back up to where you'd first been teasing your girlfriend. You always started out lightly at first, knowing Wanda's hypersensitivity at the base of her wings could easily turn pleasure to pain. The same circles you'd placed on her hips worked wonders on her back, the tiny motions forcing her back into the starts of an arch. "See, told you it doesn't take much."
Natasha was effortlessly mesmerized by the sight, promising to commit the picture of Wanda knelt on the living room couch, whimpering and balling her fists into the cushions to memory. Eventually she watched you duck your head down and trail your nose over the top curve of Wanda's wings, murmuring something Nat missed mere seconds before Wanda shook.
The first orgasm always took Wanda by surprise, the feeling overwhelmingly euphoric and she fell forward on instinct, colliding into Nat's front with a quiet gasp. Natasha took Wanda by the shoulders and pulled her upright, grip tight as she pulled her gaze from the still recovering girl to you. "Can I take a turn?"
"That's what you're here for," The two of you switched positions easily, petting Wanda's cheeks as they grew tomato red from Natasha's experimental strokes over the length of the wings she waited so long to finally get her hands on. "They're just as soft as they look, I know."
Wanda cursed the coil in her tummy for being so tight over simply being talked about, but the way you instructed your friend to touch her most sensitive places, revealing every secret spot that brought her to her most vulnerable...she had no hope keeping her composure.
"Okay now try scraping your teeth right there," You reached over Wanda to point to the area where her baby feathers grew, letting her rest her head in the crook of your neck as Natasha lightly dragged her sharp teeth over where you'd shown. She moaned something deep and heavy, an uncommon noise from the typically soft-spoken angel. "You like when Natty uses her teeth, don't you, sweet thing."
"Mhm... want you to touch me too..." The most Wanda could do was lazily kiss your neck, her hands busy twisted behind her back to guide Natasha's arm where she needed to feel her play with the tips of her feathers. Thankfully the other woman relented, sliding the end of her wings between her fingers until Wanda was bucking against the air.
At her request, your hands went to her breasts, toying with her already hard nipples. Rolling them with your thumbs left Wanda panting, the sensation almost too much combined with Natasha's continued torment at her back. "Pl-Please, can't hold it—"
To Wanda's dismay, Natasha pulled her mouth away, leaving a trail of saliva to quickly cool on her overheated skin, a lingering torment. "Are you close to cumming again, baby doll? Just from playing with you for a little?"
The brunette nodded, feverishly clamoring for Natasha's hand to force it around between her legs. She was tired of clenching around nothing, needing to further her fantasy with Natasha's fingers deep within her. Besides, she knew better than to touch herself down there without permission, but you'd never said your friend wasn't allowed to venture that far.
Honestly you didn't mind the idea of Nat fucking Wanda, countless thoughts of how gorgeous she'd look being taken by someone else, but you had to punish Wanda for lying somehow. So right before your girlfriend could clamp her thighs around Natasha's hand, you stopped her. "Ah ah, did Natty say she wanted you to do that?"
"No, but I—"
"Did I say you were allowed to try whatever you wanted?"
"No..."
"But you decided you could get yourself off like a greedy little slut." Your free hand twisted Wanda's puckered nipple until she cried out, slapping her breast as she shrank back into Natasha. The only thing that turned her on more than the groping adoration she'd been receiving was just the right amount of degradation; something you'd never expected Wanda to actually enjoy, but never complained once you found out.
Natasha knew this, another one of your drunken ramblings about your bedroom adventures, but she'd already seen evidence of it herself each time she'd teased Wanda for her needy behavior and caught the pitiful pout she used to distract from how red her ears and cheeks grew. "You're so hard on her. She's such an innocent angel, I bet she doesn't even remember what she wants us to do."
Her phrasing hit Wanda like a brick, realization and disappointment drawing on her the instant she understood you'd make a point to leave her untouched everywhere else. The two of you continued your torture in sync now, both getting your mouth on her, licking, sucking, biting wherever you could reach and ignoring Wanda's hurried pleas. "I'm sorry, 'm sorry! I remember now! I just- I need to-!"
You pulled away from Wanda's nipple with a pop, making a show of laving your tongue over the pink bud while Natasha nibbled at the nape of the angel's neck, fingers ruffling through the currently shivering mass of feathers that made up Wanda's wings.
"I didn't say you couldn't cum, Wands. You can all you want." And oh Wanda wanted so badly to rut herself over your bent thigh, but Natasha was holding her too tight, her strength easily overpowering and making Wanda feel more trapped with each struggle she put up. She didn't think that was supposed to make her feel fluttery either, but she no longer cared.
"Make a mess of your nice new panties until you're dripping onto the sofa, I'm sure we'd love to see that...but you do it like this or not at all." Ripping Wanda's dress was easy as a piece of paper, exposing Wanda's ruined underwear as the fabric slipped away. You could smell her and if Natasha's feral groan was any indication, so could she.
Another choice set of bites from the two demons and Wanda felt an even bigger wave crash over her, forcing her body not to sink down and rub her neglected sex over the couch cushions, but she couldn't stop herself from whining about it. "Can Natty touch me now? I'll be so good, I'll never lie again."
Her wide, pleading eyes were convincing, but your own devilish inclinations is what made you change up your game. "Never again, promise?"
Wanda was adamant, shaking her head and pawing at you with as much energy as she could manage in her weakened state. When you beckoned Natasha to join over to your side, Wanda was hopeful, even more so when you two shared a look before guiding her to lay on her back. But Wanda had too much faith in your generosity.
"You want Natty to make your needy cunt feel better, pretty girl?" You almost felt bad for how giddy Wanda looked; she always thinks she can skirt by her punishments and some days she manages, but today you were eager to show your friend all of Wanda's limits.
Natasha wasted no time in dragging her nails over Wanda's clothed mound, delighting in how easy it was to get her spreading her legs wider. "I heard you got worked up easily, but who knew you made such a mess.. No wonder you're always so wiggly in my lap."
"You make me feel weird, it's not my fault..." Nat laughed as she pressed her thumb over Wanda's clit, her contented sigh yet another sign of how downed her guard currently was. "Do that again, please?"
She did and Wanda bit down on her lip, happily humping against Natasha's outstretched fingers. As her eyes slid closed, she felt your hands find her breasts once more, massaging them just as gently as Natasha's touches were and slowly but surely, the two of you worked her to the brink of another high. But that's when the hand between her legs disappeared. "No wait, don't stop! I'm allowed to!"
"Only from your wings or tits, baby, your rules haven't changed." Nat pat Wanda's thigh with faux sympathy, her grip turning harsh only when the angel attempted to close her legs. "None of that now, I'm allowed to play wherever I want, and I'm far from done with you. And don't you dare cum unless you want to find out how easy your girlfriend's punishments have been."
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