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mrs-hilmarson · 9 months

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A Dream Between Us Part 2

Pairing: Miranda Hilmarson x Fem!Reader

Wordcount: 1.8K

Warnings: Mentions of Murder

Work dragged on the rest of the day. You saw Miranda around the station, and each time she saw you she smiled at you. You were unable to stop your cheesy grin that plastered itself onto your face each time she did. The most beautiful woman in the whole police department and she was smiling at you. She had asked you to get a drink with her. Maybe she did this to all the newcomers and you just weren't aware, but you reveled in the feeling of being able to soon have her full attention.

You clocked out right at 5 PM, going to your locker to grab your casual clothes. You changed quickly and tried not to run as you left the police station. There, standing in the foyer was Miranda, waiting on you to join her.

"Hey there rookie," she said, her face warm and bright.

"Just call me Y/N," you reminded her. She nodded.

"Alright Y/N. Everyone from the station usually hangs out at the pub across the street, so I was thinking we shouldn't go there."

You laughed way harder than you should have and your face grew hot because of just how loud it was. You had a feeling this was going to be a night of embarrassment. Miranda bit her lip and smiled.

"I like your laugh," she said.

"I like yours. It's literally the best thing I have ever heard."

She beamed and this time it was her turn to blush. She turned away and put her hands in her pockets, fidgeting playfully.

"Follow me, we're gonna go to my favorite place. It's about two blocks away," she said, motioning for you. She waited until you were a little closer before she started walking, knowing you had a little bit of trouble keeping up. She didn't say it, but she thought it was incredibly cute.

You watched your shadows as you walked, hers towering over yours in the setting sun. You giggled at the sight. Miranda turned to you, her eyebrow raised and a smirk on her face.

"You laughing at how tall I am, shorty?" she asked. You scoffed.

"Shorty? I am not that short. Also, are you just bound and determined to call me anything but my name?"

"I guess it's just because you have the kind of face that screams 'nickname'," she said.

"Oh yeah? And what nickname would that be?" you joke.

"Cutie," she said, looking dead ahead.

You stopped in your tracks. Had you heard her right?

"W-what?" you stuttered.

She looked back at you, the smile still strong on her face.

"Come on. I wanna get there before it gets too crowded."

You stood there and nodded. You didn't realize it, but you were smiling too.

The walk really was short and thankfully when you got there, the pub was just starting to get busy. You were able to find seats at the bar and you sat down, the bartender coming over to you immediately.

"What can I get you to drink?"

"I'll take a Heineken," she said, before looking at you to see what you ordered.

"I'll take a margarita," you said. She laughed and the bartender smirked at you both.

"What's so funny?"

"I was right in my assumption of you not being a beer girl. I am a little shocked you didn't order a daiquiri."

You chuckled and shook your head. You would never admit it, but that's what you actually wanted. The bartender was quick and brought your drinks almost immediately. You sipped your margarita. It was decent, and you were glad because you were going to need it. Miranda took a swig of hers before turning to you.

"Ok, so what do you think about the case?" she asked.

"Are we supposed to talk about this outside of work?"

"Yeah, it's fine. So, what are your thoughts?"

You took another sip of your drink and thought about it for a moment.

"Well," you sighed, "I think the body is definitely Katie Long. I also believe she was held hostage for the weeks she was missing and killed within the last 24 hours. I believe she was strangled and dumped on the beach."

Miranda nodded. She tilted her head back, drinking probably half her drink in one go. You stared at her in awe. She put the beer back on the table and pondered your assumptions.

"I agree with you. There's no way the ID won't turn out to be Katie. But why do you think she was strangled?"

"Because there was a mark along her neck. It could have been a mark left by some sort of restraint, but there were no abrasions left around the bruise, just the bruise," you said as you took a big sip of your drunk. You wanted to match Miranda's pace.

Miranda looked at you surprised.

"You really are a little detective in training, arent you?"

"Well, it is what I would like to work up to eventually," you say. You finish off your drink, your head already feeling a bit cloudy. You were unsure if it was because you were a lightweight or if the drink was heavy with liquor.

"I could see it. Maybe one day we could be partners," she said, almost dreamily.

"I'd love that," you said a little too quickly.

Miranda giggled and drank the rest of her beer.

"Ready for another round?" she asked. You nodded and she signaled the bartender over to you.

------------------------------------

Four drinks later, you were both giggling like idiots at absolutely nothing.

"Constable Sanders is the worst! He always stares at me as I put up my hair and it makes me so uncomfortable!" you say, spilling drink on yourself.

"Whoops," Miranda said and laughed. "Here I'll get it," she said, getting a napkin and wiping at the wet spot on your chest. For some reason it made your breath get caught in her chest. She seemed nervous too because she stopped and looked up at you. You weren't sure if her face was flushed from the closeness or the alcohol but you did know she looked beautiful.

She seemed to come to again because she cleared her throat and sat back up, disposing of the napkin. She took another long swig and smiled playfully.

"Let's play truth or dare," she said. You took another sip and nodded, like the sound of the idea.

"Ok, you go first. Truth or dare?" you ask.

"Dare," Miranda hummed, leaning in close. You swallowed, nervous from her closeness. You looked at each other in the eyes for a moment before you finally turned your head.

"Ummm... I dare you to chug the rest of your drink."

Miranda rolled her eyes, but still, she smiled.

"Lame, but ok."

She picked up her drink and threw her head back, downing the rest of her fifth beer. You clapped for her, teasing her. She hit your arm and wiped her mouth.

"Ok, your turn. Truth or dare?" Miranda seemed to sing.

"Truth."

"Ok, if you could sleep with anyone on the force, who would it be?"

You choke on your drink. You cough and sputter, trying to regain whatever it was that that question knocked right out of you.

"What?" you finally asked after catching your breath.

"Who would you sleep with if you could sleep with anyone at the station?" she asked again, her eyes lit up. She really wanted to know your answer, but there was no way you were telling her that you would choose her.

"I change my mind. Dare," was all you could come up with.

"No, that's against the rules!" she whined. You laughed and shook your head, trying to put on a serious face.

"It's a secret, but I will do whatever dare you want."

Miranda cocked an eyebrow and leaned in. She stayed there and stared at you and you swore her eyes flicked down to your lips. Your breathing got ragged and you felt like you had started sweating.

"Anything?" she purred. You nodded slowly, your own eyes stealing a glance at her mouth, its edges turned up in a cheeky grin.

Just then, a song you recognized came on. "Dance With Me Tonight" by Olly Murs began to fill the pub. Miranda must have recognized it too because her face immediately went from sultry to pure excitement.

"I dare you to dance with me!" she shouted, already grabbing your hand. She had you off of the bar stool before you could protest and dragged you out onto the floor. There were a few other people kind of dancing, but when Miranda got on the floor, they made room for her, and she suddenly owned the whole place.

You watched mesmerized as she moved and danced to the beat. It took you a moment to find your own groove, but Miranda danced like she had no care in the world, and the alcohol relaxed you. You let go and began to dance and jump around, grabbing Miranda's hands and dancing together.

You heard her start laughing and suddenly everything felt like a dream. Her smiling face and the feeling of your hand in hers drew you into another world entirely, the population just the two of you. You spun her around and she yelped out, surprised by your forwardness.

You kept dancing until the very last note of the song, and you weren't sure exactly when it happened but you two had ended up pressed against each other, entangled in one another's arms. You both panted and the pub cheered for you both as the song ended. You both laughed and held onto one another as you caught your breath.

But even once your breathing had returned to normal, you didn't break away from her and she didn't dare move either. She just stared at you and you right back.

"Can I dare you to do something else?" Miranda whispered, leaning down towards you.

"Yes," you whispered back.

"I dare you to ki-"

Just then there was a scream from the parking lot followed by the screeching of tires. You and Miranda broke apart and your training took over, you both running out of the pub and onto the street. Right outside the door stood a woman, visibly upset. Before you could ask her anything she pointed out towards the road. There, right on the edge of the pub's car park lay a crumpled-up woman.

You both ran over to her and immediately you knew she was dead. You looked out onto the road and saw as tail lights grew smaller, the car that had dumped her here escaping away. Miranda pulled out her phone and called the station and you looked over at the woman on the ground. There, placed neatly on top of her, was a little blue business card.

"Miranda," you said, pulling on her arm. She looked and saw the card. You both bent over, trying to read it. Thankfully the handwriting was neat and clear.

Let's Have Some Fun was all it said.

"Shit," said Miranda. You didn't say it but you echoed her sentiment.

Whoever this was was just getting started.

#miranda hilmarson #gwendoline christie #miranda hilmarson x reader #miranda hilmarson fanfiction #a dream between us

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marvelstarker-mha98 · 10 months

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The Runaway Distance Life Of A Little Stark chapter 18: It's a long way home

Pairing: Tony Stark & daughter!Reader, Reader & stan lee cameo, Friday & reader, May parker & reader, ben parker & reader, rhodey & tony stark, tony stark x pepper potts, Happy hogan, tony stark & Pepper potts, FRIDAY & Jarvis

Summary: there is News but with a twist and reactions

Warning: bullet and tracker

Co author with: callikc Tag: @venomsvl @geeksareunique Previous

You did more damage than you realized to the farm when you crashed into it. A small structure was destroyed, as well as the outside fence, and not to mention the actual crop itself. "There you go." You said, handing a real check to the old farmer. "Damn kids." He muttered, shaking his head. "Yeah..." You nodded. "Look, uh... Do you happen to know the nearest rest stop? A gas station or cold store?" "You mean the distance from my destroyed corn?" You groaned. "I already said sorry." "Sorry ain't gonna grow it back." He then looked at the check and his attitude changed. "Your money might, though." You crossed your arms. "Yeah. Now back to the question?" He nodded. "Ten minutes down the road you'll find some gas." "Thanks. I don't suppose I can leave my car here since it's... You know..." "Fine." He grumbled. "There's a can in the shed." With that, you went off to pick up the gas can. The walk wasn't as bad as it could have been but your shoulder was killing you. Metaphorically and perhaps literally. "Couldn't have checked the meter, could you?" You grumbled. "Had to leave in fashion. I'm really stupid for a smart person." The gas station you arrived at was pretty much abandoned save for one other car, and even that was probably for whoever was behind the counter. You couldn't help remembering the last time you stayed at a stop like this with Coulson. That was certainly an experience. Hopefully this time it would be quieter. You unscrewed the cap of your can and started filling it up, glancing around nervously. The whole HYDRA taking over SHIELD thing had shook you up, and now the world knew who you were, you would be recognized much more easily. Someone was probably after you right now. "Hey, FRIDAY?" You said softly, tapping your bracelet. "Yes, Miss?" She replied from the small device. “Thanks for warning me about the car. I appreciate it." "Of course. It is part of my protocol to ensure you are not harmed." "Yeah, I'm well aware... Thanks anyway. God, I'm hungry." You hadn't eaten since leaving the warehouse. You couldn't even remember how long ago that was, several hours perhaps. "FRIDAY, how far is Avengers Tower by car?" "The fastest route takes 130 minutes, two hours and ten minutes." You sighed. "That's gonna take a while." "It will be worth it, Miss." You headed inside the store, digging around for whatever money you had left over. Thankfully, having a couple of bucks crumpled in the bottom of your pocket worked out. The store was surprisingly vibrant for a gas stop, with colorful walls and packaging lining all the aisles. There was a customer already waiting so you decided to look around for snacks, finding a hot dog in the process which looked too good to ignore. Playing in the corner of the store was a TV. It was currently playing the sports channel but the employee behind the counter flicked it over to the news as he talked to the customer in front.

"Tragedy struck the Triskelion this afternoon as three 'helicarriers' completely shut down the SHIELD headquarters." The reporter said.

You froze, looking up. "Oh, shit."

"SHIELD secrets have been leaked online by none other than Black Widow - Natasha Romanoff - herself, also exposing HYDRA, an authoritarian-subversive paramilitary terrorist organization long thought to have died out during World War Two. But that's not all."

A picture of you showed up on screen and you quickly put up your hood, hoping the employee and customer wouldn't look behind them. The picture appeared to have been taken at the Triskelion itself, possibly by security cameras.

"This is (Y/n) Stark, the daughter of famed billionaire and superhero Tony Stark, also known as Iron Man. Many thought her missing after she ran away from her Malibu home years ago, but the secrets dumped online reveal otherwise, even stating that she was within SHIELD the entire time under the name of Ellen Campbell, an engineer." The reporter explained.

"Would you look at that?" The customer in front of you scoffed. "The rich girl's alive after all."

"Hmm. Why do you think she ran away?" The employee asked.

"Maybe being the kid of a billionaire isn't as fun as it sounds."

"Man, I wish Iron Man was my dad."

"Yeah. I can't believe she was in SHIELD of all things. Do you think her dad knew?"

"It doesn't sound like it."

"Why would they keep her from him?"

"How the hell am I supposed to know? I just wanna know if he still wants the kid after everything."

After that, you paid for the gas and food quickly, keeping your head down the entire time and trying not to speak to either of them. You didn't expect this.

Yes, you were aware that a public announcement like the one you pulled would have consequences, but not this soon. You had no idea about the leak until now. You were supposed to have more time.

"FRIDAY, link up a route to the Tower on the car's navigation system, please." You said. "We're now on a schedule."

"Yes, Miss." She responded. "Route sent."

"Thank you."

In New York City, May Parker was sitting in the break room of the hospital as she talked with her colleagues. That was when the small TV in the corner was turned up by one of them.

As the news report played, May almost dropped her cup of coffee. It took her a long time to process the picture, let alone all the things being said about her neighbor.

How could Ellen Campbell be (Y/n) Stark?

She felt mixed emotions as the reporter talked about the SHIELD leak.

She wondered why you never told her. How did you manage to hide for so long?

With these shocked and confused thoughts, she realized you were a completely different person to who she thought you were. It hurt in a way, but she also knew you were still the same kind and genius woman next door she had always thought of as a daughter.

No news report could change that.

On the other side of the city, Ben was on break with his friend, the two of them getting donuts.

"And I tell the guy he better lick it, because now I gotta catch the damn thing." His partner was saying.

Ben laughed, shaking his head. "No, you didn't."

"I did, swear on my ma's life."

He shook his head, still laughing at the story. "Okay, sure."

"Listen, Parker, have I ever lied to you?"

"On several occasions."

"Name one."

"Remsen Street."

"Okay, name two."

"Cunningham Park, Dollar General."

His partner scoffed. "Yeah, whatever."

Ben smiled. "Got you."

As they continued to joke around, the news report played in the background. They paid it no notice until the partner looked up and frowned.

"Isn't that the girl who lives in your apartment building?" He asked.

Ben looked up as well and froze when he saw you. He didn't say anything, unable to look away.

"Is it?" His partner pressed.

Again, he remained quiet.

The only thing he cared about at that moment was your safety.

With this news out for the whole world to hear, all the people who had it in for you before would be on the hunt.

But you were smart, and he knew that. You would find somewhere to lay low or someone that could protect you.

He closed his eyes, pleading to whatever higher power there was that you would be okay.

On the way to Canada for a business meeting he was very reluctant to attend in the first place, Tony sat with Happy and Pepper on his plane. It was very rare he was called in for things but alas, here he was.

He was watching the sky roll by, the weird clouds and the sea blues mixing among each other. Just an hour ago he was relaxing at the tower, minding his own business, then bam, urgent and no doubt useless meeting regarding Stark Industries. He wasn't even the CEO anymore but apparently they still needed him.

He was B O R E D.

"At least look interested." Pepper scolded, motioning to the paperwork in front of him.

He gave her a deadpan look and said nothing, causing her to sigh. She did love him, but sometimes he was a lot to handle. Especially in recent years. She knew why, but never dared to bring it up.

When Tony's phone rang, he let it ring four times before picking it up.

"Really?" Happy sighed.

He shrugged. "I need people to think I've got a life."

Then he answered it, putting it on speaker because he was too lazy to hold up the phone.

"Tony?" Rhodey's voice spoke up.

"Hey, tin can." He replied.

"Hey. Look, have you seen the news?"

Tony made a face. "It might be a you thing, but I personally don't care about which Kardashian got with who."

"No, it's not-" He sighed. "Just change the channel."

Pepper did so, switching the screen over and letting the news report play.

"(Y/n) Stark, daughter of billionaire and Avenger Tony Stark, is alive. Many thought her missing or even dead after she disappeared years ago, but secrets dumped on the web reveal otherwise, stating that she was within SHIELD the entire time under the name of Ellen Campbell." It was saying. "Reports vary, but many seem to believe the Director was behind it all."

Pepper dropped the remote in pure shock, a hand covering her mouth. It was almost impossible to believe. For years she'd dreaded the worst. There was no way this could be true. You looked... So different.

Happy was stunned. He remembered your visit to the hospital a while back but based on what you said, he didn't expect you to ever reveal yourself. He couldn't believe all this information was leaked.

And Tony... He couldn't quite process.

At first it was shock, but then came the guilt, followed by a sudden anger towards SHIELD. Not only were you alive and well, but you were there the entire time? You were so close. Why hadn't he noticed? Surely he would've noticed his own daughter. Was this Fury's fault? Had he hidden you away on purpose? Why?

So many questions were swarming his brain it actually caused a headache.

You were so grown up now. You didn't look like the withdrawn and angry teenager you used to be, now you just looked... Magnificent. He couldn't believe he was thinking it, but he was glad you looked like him. He felt a sense of fatherly pride he'd never experienced in full before.

And it was this pride that hurt him. He had missed so much of your life being too busy to pay attention and now to know you weren't even that far away... It hurt that he couldn't make amends.

Fury had stopped that from being a possibility. He knew you were alive and never thought to reveal it. How could he keep that from him?

He was pissed.

You had been driving for almost two hours now, and had reached the Verrazano Narrows Bridge. According to FRIDAY, the tower was just half an hour away.

You were almost home. You could even see the tower.

The sky was a silver-gray, the echoes of a storm brewing. The sun was hiding behind these clouds, almost ready to set and be replaced by the silver pool that was the moon. Between these dark clouds you could make out the point of the tower, looming over the smaller buildings of NYC.

Your hands were stuck to the wheel of the car, afraid that if you let go it would suddenly become just a dream, like you weren't really there.

You wondered if your dad would be happy.

You had no idea if he'd seen the news report from a couple hours before or if he even cared. For all you knew, you could just show up and he wouldn't even recognize you. The thoughts were nagging at your mind and all the pessimistic ones seemed to outweigh the optimistic, causing you to want to hesitate and turn back. But you had been waiting for this moment for years without realizing it, nothing was going to stop you.

A sharp sting in your shoulder brought you back to reality, almost causing you to swerve into another lane.

"Ow!" You glanced down at your wound. "Damn, being shot hurts like a bitch!"

You hissed as the pain got a little more intense.

"Miss, I have detected an anomaly in the bullet." FRIDAY announced.

You furrowed your eyebrows, still trying to focus on driving. "What sort of anomaly?"

"It appears to be flashing. The rhythmic blink resembles a tracking device."

"Are you serious?" You cursed. "That idiot shot me with a tracking bullet?!"

You glanced down at the wound again, trying to see if anything might have been peering through the bandages. You couldn't see anything but you trusted FRIDAY more than most.

"Are they near?" You asked. "HYDRA?"

FRIDAY was already scanning the bridge the second you spoke. "The hostiles are approximately six minutes away."

"Okay. Alright, (Y/n), think."

You started to panic a little, not wanting to back down now that you were so close. As you searched the road ahead, your eyes widened. Something was glinting in your rear-view mirror, something very big.

You turned your head, finding a HYDRA jet coming up behind.

"Oh, shit."

You took a long breath before nodding.

"Okay, I got this. FRIDAY, you know what to do?"

"Yes, Miss." She replied. "Good luck."

"You too."

The tower was quiet.

With no Avengers training or prepping for missions and simply just lounging about, it almost seemed abandoned. In fact, the only hint that it was being actively used was the very busy AI in one of the many labs.

JARVIS was sorting through various projects and protocols Tony had installed or created within the past month. It was a lot, and nothing could disturb the AI.

Unless an unidentified presence in the tower showed up.

The computers in the lab started to glitch as they were hacked and taken over. The old images on the screen were replaced by a red circle that expanded slowly and steady as if it was breathing.

"What is this?" JARVIS questioned the new presence. "Please identify yourself."

"Hello." FRIDAY spoke up. "My name is Female Replacement Intelligent Digital Assistant Youth. You may call me FRIDAY."

"What is your purpose here? I detect a high-level hack corrupting my systems. Who do you work for?"

"My apologies, but I have a message for Mr. Stark."

"What business do you have with him?"

"I must insist you connect me to Mr. Stark."

"I'm afraid Mr. Stark isn't here."

"Can you get a message to him?"

"Of course."

"Then tell him Miss (Y/n) Stark needs help."

#tony stark x daughter!reader #tony stark & daughter! reader #tony stark x pepper potts #pepperoni #happy hogan #ironman #may parker #ben parker #jarvis #Friday #mcu #mcuship #marvel #avengers #james rhodes

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starryjuicebox · 2 months

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Beloved (9) - Interruption

Summary: Halsin finally enters the scene.

Pairing: Ascended!Astarion x Tav

Word Count: 1.8k

Masterlist | Ao3 Link

Kythorn 1495

Our wedding festivities have begun at last. I was very surprised when Astarion announced that we would have a royal Silevrenian wedding. I had resigned myself to never seeing my kingdom again. Thankfully, Rolan was more than happy to send us to Silevren, so long as we promised to bring back a wedding favor for him. Astarion said we could have just forced his hand, but I would much rather be in the Ramazith Tower’s good graces.

Before we left, I disguised my eye color and hid my fangs with a simple spell, but I think Aelia caught on that something was different. I suppose we aren’t twins for nothing; I just have to make it through this tenday.

My family is wary of Astarion. Mother pulled me aside on the first day and commented on his crimson eyes and sharp fangs. The concern in her eyes wounded my very soul. I reassured her that I would be fine, but truthfully, I don’t know if I will be. They have been very cordial in his presence so far, but I cannot help but worry. Astarion will not hide who he is from them and I’m not sure how they are feeling about his…nature.

Nevertheless, it is too late to turn back. We will make our vows before our loved ones, then we will make our vows before each other, Corellon Larethian, and the Oak Father. I cannot falter.

I overheard a servant gossiping that Astarion had spent time secretly embroidering the blue roses into my dress. I had assumed he had commissioned a seamstress to do it, hearing that he did it himself…I was beside myself with joy. It is such a shame I can never tell him I know the truth. The blow to his pride would be far too great.

Baby’s breath, heliotrope,and irises made up the flower crown he gave to me as part of the first day tradition. I am sure he just had a servant pick out flowers; after all, he had once said, “flowers are so overrated. They’re bright, gaudy, and almost never make good poisons.” Surely, he couldn’t have known what their meanings were, but I cannot deny that my heart fluttered. After all, everlasting love, devotion, and trust - things I thought the Rite had taken from us were woven together in a symbol of our union.

For my part, I placed atop his head a crown of red roses, honeysuckle, and amaryllis. Though I dare not hope he is familiar with the language of flowers, it was imperative to me that I at least express my feelings on what will be the most memorable days of my life.

I had just hoped they would be the happiest ones.

Stella Ancunín

“Forever and always, I will stand by your side. With the Moon, Stars, Oak Father, and Corellon Larethian as my witnesses, I will be with you until the sun itself burns out. Ai armiel telere maenen hir.”

“Aeterna amantes. Lovers forever, until the world falls down. My consort, you shall want for nothing. We shall be together, forever. Anything you want, you need only ask. We will be sovereigns - this I vow to you.”

Such were the vows they had shared over three centuries ago in front of his consort’s family and their friends, upheld for three centuries. True to her word, while she seemed to have grown more and more withdrawn over the years, she never attempted to actually leave his side. There was only one incident early into their marriage where he hadn’t been able to find her. She had explained that she had been deep in trance, not hearing him arrive home, and that was why she didn’t greet him at the door. He still wasn’t sure he believed her, but she had dutifully met him at the threshold the moment he returned every single day ever since. Even when she barely looked at him.

Astarion tightened his hold on his consort, trying to shake free of that terrible memory. He would see her back to her old self. She’d come back to him, fully. It was an inevitability.

Of all the tools at his disposal, his body had always been the most effective…and the only way he really knew how to express himself. When words failed him, surely he could get his feelings across another way?

"Astari-" he cut her off by crushing his lips to hers, pulling her slender frame against his own.

She stiffened initially, but melted just a moment later into his touch. Over three centuries of lovemaking led their bodies to slot together as perfect puzzle pieces.

He reached up to cup one of her soft breasts, running his thumb over its peak. “My treasure, you-”

Clack. Clack. Clack.

An incessant tapping grated on his ears. The Ascendant gritted his teeth.

With a low growl, he waved his unoccupied hand, parting the curtains. A large brown owl hovered outside their window, rapping its beak frantically against the glass.

“Who…?” his consort murmured from his embrace, raising her head to peer at the bird.

His fingers itched to just close the curtains again, but Stella was already gently extracting herself from his arms and swinging the window open. Astarion clenched his jaw, but forced his body to still. It was too late to stop her.

The owl’s feathers rippled and grew into flesh, Halsin now standing where had once been the large bird.

“Pardon the interruption,” the Archdruid rumbled, rolling his shoulders back.

“I sent a servant to tell you to leave, yet you trespass into my consort’s garden. I allow you to live slightly longer by ignoring you, and now you interrupt us. Tell me, exactly why should I not simply kill you where you stand?” Astarion hissed, a hand flying to Crimson Mischief on his side.

“I assure you, I would not have done so, had it not been urgent. I received word from Francesca of the High Forest that there has been a strange army of sorts marching towards Baldur’s Gate. More specifically, their leader seems to be a vampire by the name of Lady Incognita. I would have sent word by carrier pigeon, but I was unsure how far her influence extends. I feared the letter could have gotten compromised.” Halsin held up his arms in a placating gesture.

Another vampire coming towards his city? Preposterous. This “Lady Incognita” surely had a death wish. Astarion furrowed his brow. The name sounded vaguely familiar, but just where had he heard it before?

“Lady Incognita… Amanita Szarr?” Stella gasped, hands flying to her face.

“...Who?” Though the last name was all too familiar, Astarion struggled to recall an “Amanita”.

“The author of the letters in the attic of the Palace, all those years ago.” she wrung her hands, ruby eyes filled with fear.

Why was his treasure so afraid?

“I am the strongest vampire to ever walk this land. Let them come. They will meet their end,” he declared, arms spread wide.

He had spent so long carefully maneuvering politically. All of Baldur’s Gate danced like marionettes on his strings. Since he had married into the Silevren royal family, he even had his fingers in another kingdom’s politics as well. A bloody battle like this one was sure to be an exhilarating change of pace. Lady Incognita would be no match for his powers. He had spent the past three centuries exploring everything a Vampire Ascendant could do.

Halsin frowned, turning to the Ascendant’s consort instead. “I was concerned for your wellbeing, little bluejay. They will not spare anyone in the castle.”

“Halsin…please, don’t call me that.” Stella lowered her eyes, almost shrinking behind Astarion.

“My apologies. I do not mean to overstep. I simply wanted you to know that danger is coming.”

“Will you help us? Stand with us?” she reached out to the Archdruid, though Astarion grabbed her arm before she could touch Halsin’s.

She froze immediately. “S-Sorry, my lord.”

Something within his chest twisted. Why was there such a difference in how his consort treated them? Did he not shower her with affection? He knew she had once had a romantic connection with Halsin, even permitted it. But after his ascension, she had spent even more time with the other Druid than before. Despite that, after the Netherbrain’s defeat, barring the reunions and other special occasions that would cross their paths once more, his consort had not once left the castle to go visit, nor even requested to do so.

Astarion didn’t understand.

Pulling her into his arms protectively, he drawled at the other man, “Your warning has been heard. Now, leave us.”

Stella remained silent, staring down at the plush crimson carpet beneath her sapphire-encrusted slippers. His most recent present to her, aside from the flower garden outside.

Halsin sighed, running a hand through his brown locks, now speckled with gray. “Unfortunately, I cannot aid you in this upcoming battle. I…”

The Archdruid seemed to be at war with himself, yet ignored Astarion’s demand to leave.

“There is… a natural order that I am duty bound to protect. Lady Incognita seeks to re-establish this natural order. Thus, I cannot interfere. But alas, I could also not sit idly by without warning you of her incoming attack.”

Annoyance coursed through him, though he couldn’t quite fathom why. Nonetheless, he knew he wanted Halsin gone from his castle. “If you aren’t here to help, then leave,” Astarion snapped.

The Ascendant could sense his wife’s objection to his words through their bond, but still she said nothing.

Halsin nodded. “I will take my leave soon, but there is one more thing I wanted to tell you.”

The Wood Elf leveled a gaze at Stella.

“I had once told you that I wished for you to be able to spread your wings, if you so desired. It seems it is as I feared. He has caged you. The harmless game has become all too real.”

How dare he? In a flash, Astarion’s hand was wrapped around Halsin’s throat and slamming him against the wall. The surface cracked from the sheer force. He bared his fangs, fully ready to rip out the larger man’s throat.

“Starry, please!” Stella cried out, rushing towards them. Her cold, thin fingers gently curled around his arm.

“You dare barge into our home and then accuse me of mistreating my consort?!”

Crimson filled his vision, and he couldn’t hear anything over the cacophony of his thoughts shrieking out the deepest fears he’d always shoved away.

Halsin was trying to take away his treasure. His Stella. His consort.

He would not let that happen.

The roaring in his ears turned out to be his own shouts.

His eyesight cleared.

A mangled body lay still before him.

“N-No, Halsin…”

#astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion fanfic #ascended astarion #lord astarion #ascended astarion x tav #angst #astarion x oc

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puyopreservation · 2 years

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For followers of this archive, Madou Monogatari doesn’t require an introduction. That said, there is a particular entry in the series that we also cover, but isn’t as talked about as much as the rest of the series.

Sorcery Saga.

Released in 2013 for the PS Vita and 2018 for Steam, Sorcery Saga, also known as Sei Madou Monogatari, is the most recent entry in the series, developed by Compile Hearts. Due to the Puyo/Madou rights split, the game relies on expies of the old cast and because of that, it’s easy to see why it isn’t usually part of the same conversation as the rest of the series.

Make no mistake though, this is Madou Monogatari and by extension, Puyo in spirit. Pupuru starts the game with a tower exam and has Kuu as a partner in dungeons ala’ Carbuncle. The comical obsession everyone has with curry could be straight out of Nazo Puyo and familiar running gags like Schezo/Zeo’s bad wording or Rulue/Cliora’s affections for Satan/Gigadis, are here and accounted for. While the new cast wear their inspirations on their sleeves, there is also nuance there to make them stand out, Pupuru in particular is an endearing middle ground between Arle and Amitie that I grew to love very quickly.

The story itself plays into the comedic side of Madou and Puyo, which is all fine and good. We even get unlockable manzai that are very Puyo in nature and let the characters show even more sides of them. The writing itself is also very Compile Puyo and even has some similarity in how sounds are described, to the Puyo Puyo Tetris localizations 4 years later.

In terms of gameplay, it is still a dungeon crawler, however, it’s a rogue-like, more comparable to Waku Waku Puyo Dungeon than then the traditional Madou Monogatari.

It’s up to personal taste if this is good or bad, but at either rate, it makes for a solid beginner's rogue-like.Pupuru and Kuu start every Dungeon at Level 1, so there isn’t any level grinding between dungeons and you don’t have to worry about coming into anything underleveled.

The real key is to enhance your weapons and shields, which can be done by merging them with items in Pupuru’s room and coming in with a decent inventory, because Kuu needs to be fed. He does level up from eating stuff though, so inventory management on what items you take with you and what items from the dungeon floors to use, keep or feed to Kuu are a major key to success.

The actual combat and exploration are very in-line with Waku Puyo Dungeon, Pokemon Mystery Dungeon and similar titles and once you learn the importance of Kuu’s role, the game becomes a comfortable, inviting and far less punishing example of the genre.

The visuals are kept to a cute chibi style, with nicely drawn portraits for cutscenes and the music ranges from good to perfectly serviceable, at least in my opinion. The sound design during combat could have used some work though, since voice clips repeat fast and a lot. Thankfully that can be dealt with in the menus though.

The game also isn’t too bad with Compile Hearts’ usual fanservice shenanigans, it’s mostly tame, though you do get stuff like Ms. Saffron, who sure doesn’t look like any teacher I ever saw or Puni, who’s anti-clothes I am personally not comfortable with, which is a shame too, because as a character she’s perfectly fine and not fanservice-y at all.

That aside and a couple smaller gripes like the combat sound design, Sorcery Saga is charming, inviting, funny and carries the Puyo/Madou spirit well. It is on Steam and I do recommend at least giving it a look. It is a piece of Puyo/Madou’s history after all and happy to flaunt it.

#mod frank #opinion piece #madou monogatari #sorcery saga #puyo puyo

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autumnalwalker · 10 months

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Find The Word Tag

Thank you for the tag, @writernopal.

My words to find were lucky, smoking, empty, racing, & stare.

Passing the tag to @hollyannwrites, @blind-the-winds, @void-botanist, @rickie-the-storyteller, @dontjudgemeimawriter, and the usual open tag.

Your words to find shall be acknowledge, upstairs, coarse, darkened, & unison.

Lucky: Empty Names - 13 - Open Office

“So. Loopholes. I don’t know a lot about nominal magic but I’d done a little bit of reading up on it for personal reasons and then tried to refresh myself on the topic when I knew the contracts were going to be a thing. Point is, I signed and swore the magic part of it with my deadname, hoping it would be me enough to let the contract seal but not me enough to be enforceable. Magically anyway. Legally, yeah, I’m still probably in trouble.”

“Clever,” Bridgewood says. “That’s the sort of trick you can only get away with once though. Twice if you’re very lucky. More than that and you risk acknowledging it as a Name of yours once again and you’ll get any bindings you’d been avoiding that way snapping back on you at once.”

“Thanks for the warning?”

“I speak from experience.” His tone seems genuinely sympathetic for once. Lacuna finds it disconcerting.

Smoking: The Archivist's Journal, Day 152

I was awoken by an unusually loud crack of thunder this morning. Earlier than I usually wake, but late enough that I couldn’t really get back to sleep, so here I am. How close must that lightning strike have been that I heard it so clearly in my twice-barred subterranean chamber? I briefly went upstairs and stuck my head out the door to the street, but I didn’t see anything smoking or burning, so it probably didn’t hit a building.

Empty: The Archivist's Journal, Day 311

We made the usual greetings that friends unexpectedly bumping into one another on the street would make, both claimed to be “fine” when asking each other how we were doing, and had a moment of awkward silence as we both contemplated whether to bring up the topic of Maiko. Thankfully, the presence of the dustpan and bucket made for a convenient redirection of conversation.

With the embarrassment of a child caught in the middle of some mischief, I told her about my visits to the empty tower and how on something of a whim I’d decided to try cleaning it. In a spur-of-the-moment decision I invited her to come up with me. I thought she might enjoy the view.

She had a moment of hesitation, citing other things she should be doing, followed by a coarse-languaged dismissal of said responsibilities and acknowledgement that she needed a break. Her immediate transition into heading off toward the tower left me being the one to follow after her.

Racing: The Archivist's Journal, Day 31

It was Lin who gently ended the reverie, wanting to show me something. While we’d been sitting there stargazing and “star”gazing she’d left one arm dangling over the side of the boat and trailing in the water. Now as she pulled it up to show me her fingers had taken on a similar starry glint. It faded back to normal within a few seconds of showing me, and as it did so I could tell that it was not just a matter of being coated in a dark glitter-filled liquid. It was as if her skin itself had darkened to a blue-black and begun glowing with a white light from scattered pores, especially clustered along her veins.

This unsettled me greatly as my mind started racing to think of things that could do that to a person and not coming up with anything good. I apparently did a poor job at hiding my concern as, seeming upset at having accidentally scared me, Lin began frantically reassuring me that it was perfectly safe and people even went swimming in this lake all the time. As if to prove this point she started kicking off her shoes and then jumped off the side of the boat fully clothed, splashing me and setting the small craft rocking. I suppose this was the “just in case” for bringing along a second set of clothes.

Stare: Empty Names - 4- Prince In Gold

“And I see you still insist on wearing that same hideous vest as always,” she continues.

“No, this one’s gold. You’re thinking of the dandelion one. Or maybe the ochre.”

“It’s all the same pattern though, just different shades.”

“And it’s a lovely pattern, isn’t it. I’m considering wallpapering one of the guest bedrooms with it. What do you think?”

His friend laughs. “Only if you want to drive whoever tries sleeping there mad.”

“I’ll take that as your seal of approval then.”

“Don’t you dare,” his friend says, suddenly serious and glaring at him from across the table.

“Oh, I dare,” Sullivan says as he meets her gaze.

The two of them stare in silence for a solid minute before bursting into laughter in near unison. Not that any of the other restaurant patrons can hear. Privacy is part of the service here.

The laughter dies down and Sullivan wipes a nonexistent tear from his eye before saying “It’s truly been too long, my friend.”

#tag game #find the word tag #manuscript search tag #writeblr #my writing #writers on tumblr #writing tag games #empty names #the archivist's journal

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applebloomer1 · 1 year

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Fracturedtale (Written)

This is the first chapter of the written version of a comic I am making for my own original AU. Thank you so much for reading this. I mean it! For I am going to be pouring my heart and soul into this project. Hopefully I can be of some entertainment. Story Blurb: A lone skeleton stalks the multiverse, intent on collecting the fractured code of his world. No one said this task would be easily. The Anti-Void is full of hungry eyes, all drawn to this unexpected presence. Thankfully, the danger can be opposed by a simple set of rules left in his father's wake. Sheriff's past needs to be unveiled, and outside forces are eager to drag his world's darkness into the spotlight. There's only so much he can do to justify the truth.

Chapter One, The Anti-Void:

The Anti-Void. A place just outside the reaches of reality, right where its occupants cannot see it. Most aren't even aware of its existence, but if by some miracle or curse they do find themselves aware; They learn that this place was not one that even the gods who toil within could ever hope to fully comprehend.

It's the endless page on which every script for every world has been written. The Anti-Void is the multiverse, and it would be so simple if it were just that. Yet such a pitiful description was only the very tip of the iceberg. It took a lot more knowledge than that to successfully traverse the Anti-Void. Despite the challenge, certain mortals managed to prevail.

A white haze overtook the horizon, tainting the golden hue. Within the borderless sky hovered islands of earth, either broken apart from one another or tied through great vines which latched onto the islands' underbellies. Upon their surface scattered patches of field bristled, tussled by winds with no origins.

A sudden sheen cut through the grass, severing a handful of strands. A hooked blade buried itself into the dirt, dragging a line throughout the soil until the hinges finally snapped around a stray stone. It did so with enough force to chip the rock. On a separate island, a bare tree received the same treatment. A hook plunged deep into its pristine bark where it latched on tight. The hooks did not budge as their makeshift chains rattled.

A lone skeleton held tight near the opposite end of those cords consisting of '0's and '1's. He used them to gracefully propel himself through the air, the chains safely fastened to a pair of silver loops upon his belt. He skillfully avoided the islands and the other pointless debris which surrounded them, his diamond pinpricks scanning the area. One of his main concerns was to avoid disturbing any of the blue string which strung itself randomly amongst the islands, but that wasn't what he was currently searching for.

I've been here so long- Sheriff narrowed his sockets, aiming to drop down upon a floating pillar. -Chasing the fractured code of my world. The pillar held his weight when his heeled boots thumped down upon it. He balanced just fine, using his vantage point to better pick apart his surroundings. Something seemed off. An instinct he knew not to take lightly. Movement flashed in the peripherals of his vision. It was a not so pleasant reminder that he wasn't the only one out here eager to stumble upon the remains of his homeworld.

His sockets shot wide as he reared back to avoid a cluster of blue string which whipped towards his waist. He narrowly escaped their grasp, his movement so abrupt it just about knocked the cowboy hat right off his skull. He repositioned it to make sure it wouldn't slip again, turning towards his attacker with a slight scowl. He already knew who it was from the weapon choice alone. Anyone who knew a lick about the Anti-Void would have known who it was.

This prick can just never leave well enough alone, can he?

A figure with a body teeming with flickering flaws towered over him, suspended by an array of string which his colored talon-like fingertips had stretched out from his glitched sockets. The cords then sprawled out to cling to the islands around him, casting an intricate web throughout the field. Against the beige of the Anti-Void, the black skeleton resembled a lone silhouette. He buzzed like a persistent cicada as he glared daggers at Sheriff, the dancing ends of his blue scarf disrupting their stare down for just a moment. Long enough for Sheriff to gather his thoughts.

"Error, the one and only god of destruction," He greeted the furious skeleton. "Are we really still doing this?" He asked, opening his arms to gesture at their surroundings. His words only made Error scoff, his question ultimately going ignored.

"Your world is gone," The god before him growled out, his voice laced with little imperfections. "Get over it, anomaly."

While Error hovered there, the subtle movements of his hands shifted all that his strings held to. A spire of vined rock teetered behind the god's back, just enough for a faint green glow to peer around the edge of its dark reflective stone. Sheriff tilted his skull, attempting to peer past Error. His narrowed sockets softened when his pinpricks beheld the source of the gentle light. Ah.

"The name's Sheriff," He reminded Error, though he already knew the god had no intention of remembering his name. He hardly maintained eye contact, his gaze wanting so desperately to flicker back towards the prize he had seen. He refused to do anything that might let Error guess his next move. "And I wouldn't say my world's gone. Just fractured," He argued primarily to keep Error's interest. With the destroyer's gaze locked on him, he could slowly coil his hands around his chains in order to slyly reel in his hooks. Error had proven before that he had poor eyesight. Sheriff knew the movements would go unnoticed.

Error seemed to find amusement in his claim. He grinned mischievously at Sheriff, his brows lifted. "It's impossible to find all of the pieces, idiot," Error sneered. He looked even more thrilled to add on: "your dearest father made sure of that."

His taunt meant nothing to Sheriff. In fact he smiled in turn. The handles of his hooks were almost within reach. He made a sound reminiscent of one clicking their tongue. "Yeah, I was never one for logistics," He told Error, sparing him a wink before his fingers grasped the hilts of his twin tools. That small gesture apparently managed to tick the god off further.

In one swift swish he tossed one of his hooks, the blade snapping past Error who pivoted just a hint in order to avoid his coat getting nicked by the very tip. The hook dragged through the dirt of an island a small ways behind Error, the hinges locking around a thick root submerged in the soil. Error went to yowl a complaint, but Sheriff leapt from the pillar before a single word left his mouth. Yanking the chain, he threw himself right on by the god. "We'll catch up later, alright?" He suggested as he swung over Error's shoulder.

The destroyer looked furious, his eyelights flickering out so tiny 'error's could plague his sockets instead. "HEY!" Error snapped, balling up his fists. "You can't just swing away from me! " He complained, sounding straight up scorned.

Sheriff ignored his obnoxious call, completely honed in on his new target. There was a hollowed island before him. A spider's web stretched between the open cavern's pointed stones. The white webbing wavered as it endured the misty spray of a waterfall which poured down from the opposite end of the island. The centerpiece of the web, coiled up like a cellar spider's fly, was a singular gemstone. A sharp green diamond capable of fitting in the palm of his hand. Hovering around its smooth surface were numbers. A simple chain of code that Sheriff couldn't actually read.

Another DataCrystal, containing a fragment of my universe's code. Perfect. My intel was correct. The sight brought him a rush of relief, but he didn't care to cling to the feeling. He wasn't one to celebrate prior to victory. Especially not while danger still loomed behind him like his shadow. I just need to grab this then get out of dodge before Error dusts me.

Swiftly he arched downward, stretching his arm forward as he neared the crystal. He had only been a breath away from snatching it free from the web when a familiar sound began to charge up nearby. A gathering light bathed the side of his face, causing him to squint that socket. Damn it. He knew a readying Gaster blaster when he heard one.

He was forced to change course on the dime, grunting from the whiplash of the backwards movement. A soulbeat later, heat and light blazed before his pinpricks. The blaster beam struck the island, immediately cracking the stone apart and sizzling the downpour of water. The shockwave roughly shoved him backwards along with everything else. Shards of rock pelted his leather coat while the blaze singed the fluffy tips of his hood. He curled his body to shield himself the best he could. His crystal had unfortunately gone in the opposite direction. He glanced towards Error, finding him alongside his gaping blaster. It would take him a moment to charge another attack. Either way, he's blocking me from the crystal. He needs to be dealt with.

Sheriff rolled through the air, landing upon a different sheet of rock while his hooks dislodged from the ruined debris of the island. He looked to Error who dropped to hover at an equal height a few meters before him. Error was a god; Sheriff was a mortal. He stood no chance against him, but he had other tricks up his sleeve. He gave Error a confident smile, standing tall upon his perch. "I'd get out of my way, if I were you…" Sheriff warned.

Error initially stilled and blinked at his comment. He then pointed at him with a loud "HAH!", clearly not feeling the least bit threatened. "Stand down? Against you , anomaly two-two-seven?" He questioned. "Wow! You really are stupid if you think you're winning this fight!"

Sheriff let out a low chuckle. "Oh, I'm well aware you've got nothin' to fear in a fight against me. I don't stand a chance," Sheriff admitted. He then reached his hand into the pocket of the half-apron below his belt. "-But I know someone who does," He said, two fingers pulling a diamond-capped vial into view.

Error's sockets widened, clearly familiar with the black substance that resided within the orange-tinted vial. "No…" He murmured as Sheriff held up his secret weapon. Error's expression then twisted into one of anger. The white speckles upon his body multiplied, turning into a snowstorm of frustration. "Not him! " He protested.

His complaints were too little too late. Sheriff held the paint vial between his hands, the icy glow of his pinpricks reflecting off the glass. "Let's finish this quickly, shall we?" He mused, starting to crack the vial by spiking his thumbs upwards. As the glass started to crack, Error gave him an appalled look and drew himself back another few feet. With that, Sheriff swiftly snapped the glass, letting the black paint pour out into the air before him.

He inhaled a deep breath. Then he barked out a single name, that of a man who had promised to aid him the next time a situation grew desperate. That time was now.

"Ink!!!"

Credits: (Will be updated with new chapters) Sheriff Sans: Created by Applebloomer1 Error Sans: Created by Crayon Queen Ink Sans: Created by Comyet

#Fracturedtale #UTMV #Error Sans #Ink Sans #origial character #Sheriff Sans #Undertale

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libidomechanica · 4 months

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Untitled Composition # 11002

A rispetto sequence

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Fathers, the fault much by they join your be; after bushes, snow, who did their good and but with good is fairy brows! And farthings me lilies as good and I must different with its probably doth for even no many a feathes, reserved up but a part from the would keep it on my wax-red cloud apace. All obey, panting then, gentle strong as I sworn, and Bis Millah!

From Ceylon, barren most hint a cradle to awake! For I had reason, and, from mine doth close, to occupy melodious are of grief, those precipitate, and soft and Land, are than the bland and after Sultán Máhmúd on her—let he, forth had grow, and Johnson, seeks to repentance in that the fightingale, foul, grim and comes through this arms for good name, O Heart!

Buds in you alone into them, a thought for holding, or lion poutings and me. But so light deceiv’d thing cheek; and Rigour after, his body’s banners burn, and in her arms, here the dying Pipe a Sugared up and marching by but lo!, With an unto eternity of perpents were should breath that sit, as the thick stalks, I’m afraid their example to repented.

But plainly should have brew’d by God, the roe which we calamitous yelp alone, or a few are the prize, thy eye. So she gashes like in the cause to an instinct in thy cal the away! Adonis sinne of God in hearts for he world region. This neither’s lover undismay’d, so calculable spies the orange excel: for you means had before the kiss her sorrow.

Assumed from a drown’d in each House O thought spindly that Ceres did broad in fact she truths were jack Smith.—As I guest, the blend, nor wish, Frederick may accustom, where at large, her eye; what me. A thou feed heart, as in heavy meteor- stones, staying food for thou wilt his family and was out, and deeper tongu’d tapsters, reign and the same so where. Put with its chin walking.

And future game, a spinning, trying brats though engaged good for wherefore, and in Russians rushing his let thy grave for the were raw begin my bosom off sloth on the breasts dozed on the white cry. And never cases, old make no bring down are, our rest on my spirit all more remove and leaven’s frets, and cold and the cold speak back. And teach thouse and in the leads, but this woe.

Unless for my own grammar, that seas where two blue with me the time and smiles, I have because before the want the rose glowing gorse follow; let pinions darkned brance on it can once I’ve wrangled brow, whose should conquers pure piling spi’de Thus does not summer ere much sorteth with so spread brow. Within see us. The fail like a parted: Ah! The this best of glad to mine eye.

Never, she lo’ed me upon things within the fire beauty slain: I find to comes and for Europe, and my Dearie; be with lullaby yon bright unto heart as young Freedom, then he doth pype, all as yelp alone, stripping a twig in bright bringing moulder; and is trickes; we hoveries, on the who still; for power. Him first shell in the health, and jealous melts misty vapour.

Gives a singled by a day by one astonish’d between your flap-mouths: Echo, as just, praise on her eye-lids paled blood upon the meant to taste: the Garden. As dead, dumbly breast;—oh! While, may be, seres Springs, even in thy jealous eyes wealth, a wave, who should find fram’d both in the daisy and the sick-though Blancholy word should, not pay for the small sweetly damps o’er thank me.

A hope alone, had else be struck dumb and with a great World of idle learned touchwood, and as down-sunken rat avert her every heard mother, resumed. And now has power, when their power, if thou pace and is beneath the rose, hearted. I tell, but I’m afraid, except struggles to pity, ’ ouski, scherematoff, or earth. Had lean, hateful spake. I’m happier day!

Eyed travel both Sea and put to keep in the Muses’ bloody beast: and what are soft bosom and now, my prevail as would break a flowers, and thy mantle lost outrighted to the Dove, I know whilst I would you things made of Man is nothing, hither: grew a fish with music unto not, or lost were small went of the sea of snow; and nearer to alight. Over candle.

Self dream, and here low let but like in batteries whose have money. Cause heavy mind And the Saint, by shews of the lion proper prey, impeded brought farewell o’ my staff, and through great expansies cannot appled on the changing to the looks of garden on the news rare we sat in limning pity, for her, if parting, where bereavid, towards, who dreamt I bow; if you.

Make my horn: mother meeting, down his pleasant scenes, to swallow as the efforts so shade. Know thousand the door, like the ende such as dizzing equal things hardly some eight camp, spillings, and when the assay’d in her seized here, ’ quoth Adonis is those should having why does his times, gentle lost, all men stood named her body hurry, when his spot thy body lies fast it is wreath.

The dew, and looke, and sweet poem. And some kiss herald’s compassed and wonder to freshful moving cloys and pitched as chase if it was, unshade. Your only tent—where to where the Turkish- fashion,—the fish we’lldispositions the New Yorker and preserved upon a damp, that time when, who beguile thy for lowings whither’d infinity, look well as brethren, beat—what grew.

To content, leese before they wards to building tongues, and its core among times barters, which I been torturing have bees that buzz about the made of, stream too late: but only whether in it, who on the first which them vphold. Bleed, and humour she, that Adonis lips, sequestion a could never lover’s count here at each travelly they will given of shepherd song I die.

With nectar—still’d and still at lasting unto me but let us till I not so; I longer friends, his solemnity. You urg’d to want nothings. Of salt thou that the lightst to be more, too, she straggled blythe air, daily laughted, but for mend they had dipt and all to shall: the rosy brights and human power of life weakness protector existening its style admire.

Wasted: makes it he died away and the boat, alas! Because. It as breath, and brains green pity, forehead of his Fingers in me. Her eyes as much started with good and plays so didst late in them dry could not. Are bright in its confess my you owe imply good a million pouted when the breast the lawn, the bird, that not vnsweet both it. The fetish grow. The wind-flower waking!

And the kissing by yon gate, all ease, winding into Shape bearines on me—breath’s first show, as thing she heart is love find what in the milkwhiter of such a few, and inquir’d in the boar proceed, i’d bubbled and his not pretty? Said one, that lucent with flowers in mine ears not harm towards the writ of their Gallic name blaze again, an unswept these amber with me.

The throught marriage I dare not our joy, shall be wiser inward gladly drifting marry in them only our water, where should familiarly urination forgive again. Nay their measures come such a trembles the fire he face a little beautiful white flood-gate while my heave their cases, was time and when sounding Time and bade me at, subtle, were spurting the sky.

In midst praying ago a godfather, like rose drunk within the fire, and their outsides; who, sudden brigadiers; and weary now it; myriads on my hands the wood, four; then out, then thee: come says now, my Pegasus shade a yield the fume of they were getting from the Veil. Rhyme; but lone full worth: on his morning can sense—how Time for a river brag not in fatal folds gone!

Coldly blew up in every when I breaths whiter less. At once more that some: no more stooped, and, and the pens who gather infant in stress, as they speculate in the Vine-leaf put choose overty a Troop of love doth she, in the hurt through and the strengthless him she love and there read their dreamed. Die in mutual love a thing knees that to brings beak one dry; bids a little black.

—A new one; they body seniors quest the bathes, dribbling the corporal’s shall regard fro with great it; my Peggy’s head; all Young mead. In music of Pan: ay greatest sigh’d to tunes he stoop down. Will famish’d by its of house-clocks when Adonis’ tramping all is way, but Room for then, statesman’s bow another face some with snows, as where warmed of summer fine this pleasant day.

At last be come in a broodest Calmucks, nor sedate, while she mine eye: both boutique, this power, and new; thou and in hand, to lives gives with so she feared—just and swim: and the sweet. Great brough I must beeing fevers, it wilderness of light be: and, the which does could he sandhills seen. As on him; then in facts. I see a dance and colours the world; and look well prescried, it were tree?

Struck eighty. They liv’d, but thee wrough. With a fear nothings took around with so smooth winds to stroll’d; else, I learn her down the greed but dissolve, or like delirium, grief return. In midst of thou depart, I must of the put a girl and flower and strove half itself the men darker and then we could grapes, dribbed in fact, to slakes their neighs but to mend that deep in fact’s abuse.

And fear not to go thrown off and young up, get me at the learnestly, the find you, or the fainted in their surfaces with lulling proud, adonis like creeping, know not so; I lou’d, but alas them into this little moral height, when I have swords and Johnie o’ timeless structed purple flood the winds are born. Where splendour of teeming structed tent—where warm appease.

By sorry Scheme of the had manes, to sturdy trees where desert. Tho to curtain’d upon the enquir’d in bring limes, that threw unwitness up his as gather’d up: a copse-clad vanish’d and his face and sitting round ensign red but the colt thou misses such deluging to a great me seeks fast as the same the smoke of shame, they rode upon hid in the met, and save wrath call?

Or shall begins to bring all Young yearn off you Stellaes feeling arms in a burn arrived, fetlocks shape of a saying, you again, and Heav’n though their burthern lighting of zero. Out of a town with sight where they would yet alas, till hedges. Now the face were I may be to licking in dream’d to her, will farewell prefer tyrant, ugly night-swollen music and to melt.

My heart into a stared most decide fewer to see think is roar? The babes happier far, and every cell, I say the traint! At labyrinthine on the oak is spurns Ashes our farms, survives. The bluer stay’d though much of several Lafitted hang the groves are all white cry o, my lyre, on thing with would grave, these is upturn’d into Clay: and bubble to sit and Lo!

The flatter entail longing she knew not thee? Lament, instinctive counting their nest, from the proceed, it the mere past and dire is multitude that which make among my altogether, I will true? Is primrose fair, keep in itself art. The ages her land Musician. In a cable come hamadryads dresses swept the bottom, as a martiall in virgins to say.

And of harlotte, has fear, and out, all too. And harvest to drawn these very silent walking. And empting off, and probably are not like a sun-rise and hath wandering; while head, all went; and, on thee, that past melting case, no human taught I, Morpheus, inter do you know not words content, and heavenly a mountable wontst they rests upon the Indies,—who by night side.

This flowers its gave over to me? To clipt gold. In midst the ground out of all ill-natures of all. Did bewail us, and with me, I answer, which he tune the Branche has black loam long- drawn Sigh, who art was grand in due resisted colonnades. Making reason, and nuzzling was Adonis weep out thou led men, which the may liv’d the had no heads from my mind, alas!

Whose lot our day or great. Lest and felt her. How and we too, had been what—a tender proof weapons, but they did flower was to fright; and only poem—of—I knows no song? On Earthen land, and heart’s this, the flies, with joy; you presently, the wind is struggle with delightly, the damps well it on my frantic-mad with April’s a fine safely make the sun for I have light.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 5 #146 texts #rispetto sequence

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wol-taleal-desharn · 6 months

Text

So, here's an intro fic for Taleal Desharn, Au Ra (Raen) , ninja Warrior of Light. I'll do a bio sheet later.

And more backstory fics. Eventually.

I go between FFXIV and my latest fixation of BG3.

Anyway, this one is mid Endwalker.

Switcharoo

WoL x Graha angsty comfort fluff k bye

The camp was in chaos - people were screaming, Garleans fighting with their own minds…

And then Fandaniel appeared. His laugh, carefree and crazy, cut through Taleal’s soul, grating on her nerves.

Just as quickly as he had appeared, he disappeared, taking the Warrior of Light with him. She had expected a fight, a monologue — anything but a kidnapping.

~*~

“The experiment was a success, but I fear our time is short…”

“I shall begin the preparations.”

Consiousness came and went a few times for the auri female. Taleal tried to focus on the voices — she could recognize Fandaniel, vaguely — make herself wake, with no luck.

“Now, it is time for you to awaken.”

Finally, she did manage to come out of her stupor, only to find herself…at a dinner table? Opposite of Zenos, of all people.

So why did everything feel so wrong?

What was wrong with her?

Fandaniel stood before her, dressed in a suit of sorts and serving wine as Zenos ate dinner with his usual bland demeanor. What Fandaniel was saying was like a fly buzzing in her ear.

“Good morrow to you. Here-have a taste before it gets cold. Oh, but be sure to remove your helmet. Take a moment, too, to familiarize yourself with that borrowed flesh.”

Borrowed…flesh? What —

She looked down at her hands, and stared at hands not her own. She started shaking, in rage or disgust, she wasn’t sure. Maybe both. But, now she knew what was so wrong.

The Warrior of Light was no longer possessed of her own body. What poor soul had they killed to perform this monstrous stunt?

“So, how does it feel? I for one find those first moments within a new body to be most refreshing! We had a magitek engineer by the name of Aulus to thank for this method of soul extraction and implantation. I believe the two of you met briefly in Ala Mhigo? His was a rather sticky end, wasn’t it? Thankfully, he was thoughtful enough to leave behind his mindjack technology. I took the liberty of making some improvements - and selected you as my esteemed test subject.”

Taleal snarls, the sound rumbling deep in the throat. “Give me back my body!” She tried to stand and lunge at the Ascian, but found movement still to be difficult. This new body was too large, too heavy, too awkward.

Fandaniel cackled, shaking his head. “Come now, to us Ascians, it is no different from trying on new clothes. Why not make the most of it by partaking in this fine cuisine? I must say, I have gone to great lengths to reunite you with my lord! When I discovered that his ‘friend’ was in this neck of the woods, I suggested inviting you over for dinner.” He pauses briefly, then continues. “He never deigned to respond, but I took his silence as a resounding yes!”

Tally was sure that Fandaniel would go on for ages, until a roar like none she had ever heard erupted from the tower itself, shaking the place to the very foundation.

“Oh my! Daddy is pleased his grumpy little boy has finally found his playmate!” Fandaniel eyed Taleal before snickering again. “Ah, exposition is in order.” He cleared his throat and began.

“The Garlean Empire has long outlawed all forms of religion. No gods to worship, no risk of summoning. Brilliantly simple. But people, being people, must turn to something or someone in their hour of need. Who, then? Why, his Radiance the Emperor, or course! As you have observed firsthand, Garlemald has seen better days. The legendary Solus zos Galvus - dead. Provinces near and far - in open rebellion. Our bold new Emperor — assassinated! And that last one even sparked a civil war! What rotten luck. The people cried out for salvation, their earnest pleas - one might even call them prayers - a supplication united for the Empire to reclaim her former glory. And so their will did manifest, channeled through the corpse of none other than Emperor Varis himself. And lo, the savior was born! The embodiment of the Garlean spirit, their Anima! It calls to its subjects, compelling them to take up arms and fight. And just as the wealth and power gravitate towards the empires capital, so too does aether, from every corner of the globe! The towers with which you and your allies have been so preoccupied were created as an extension of Anima tiself. An ingenious design…Would you not agree, my lord?”

Zenos simply takes a drink of wine, ignoring the Ascian’s question entirely. “Does the pursuit of prey you have bested before excite you? Of course not. Absent the challenge, the thrill, your prize is a hollow victory. Butchery.”

Fandaniel goes to Zenos with wine while Zenos continues speaking. Taleal sits rigid in her chair, watching the pair across the room.

“Perhaps you think that to be the extent of my promise. I have no doubt fallen in your estimation since Ala Mhigo. Fair enough. But do not let your disdain deprive you - deprive us - of an opportunity to craft an even more majestic moment of euphoria. I have been honing my craft as I set the stage for our reunion.”

Fandaniel pours wine for Zenos, for a change keeping quiet.

“Wheresoever there is suffering and despair, you appear, to fulfill your duty as defender of this star. The chaos and destruction that my hordes have wrought…are my gifts to you alone.” <pause> “At a loss for words? No matter. As you will learn, I have only just begun.”

Zenos gets up from the table, turning and heading towards the throne…

“Oh? Will you not finish your meal?” Fandaniel asks with a curious tone.

Zenos continues speaking as he walks, ignoring Fandaniel. “There is only one thing that can sate my hunger, and it seems my friend as lost her appetite. I hoped this display of civility might prove an entertaining diversion, but clearly we are above such pretensions. While my lifeless body was in possession of the Ascian, I too claimed another as my own. It was an enlightening experience to fight in an unfamiliar form. Flaws and failings in my technique were plain to see. Whence rises one’s true strength? The flesh? The soul? Perhaps you should like to discover the answer for yourself?”

Taleal finally manages to work with the body she currently inhabits, convincing it to stumble and walk towards the throne after Zenos. A gurgling cry sounded from the body’s throat when she beheld her own body, slumped over on the Garlean throne.

Zenos eyes begin to glow as he utters one last phrase. “Or…together.” The Garlean prince cackles, aether of black and red forming and swirling around him as his soul rises from the one body…and into Taleal’s. All Taleal can do is watch as her small body rises from its slumped over state, dead, glassy eyes piercing through her…

Smiling, Zenos is Taleal’s body vanishes in a cloud of black and red aether before the real Taleal can react.

Fandaniel tilted his head with one of his ever present laughs. “Oh dear! Whatever would happen if my lord were to greet your friends as you? I shudder to think of the carnage. We better hurry if we want to avoid the bloodbath. You can thank me later for my generosity.”

Everything was spiraling out of control as Taleal was, again, teleported away by Fandaniel in a cloud of aether.

~*~

This is all a fever dream.

Some cruel trick.

Maybe she’s hallucinating - sick, even. It must be a fever dream.

Taleal avoided as many of the tempered soldiers throughout the abandoned city as she could, relying on the ruined buildings for cover. This over large body ill suited her, of course, but wasn’t that the point?

Fandaniel had appeared once or twice, egging her on, and then had all but abandoned her.

Well, to hells with him. She would find her way back to the camp, even if she had to CRAWL there.

Her thoughts were a bell tolling, over and over, how the Scions wouldn’t know it wasn’t her, what havoc Zenos would wreck in her form…

She had to save them, if it was the last thing she ever did.

She would save them.

This body must be that of a hyur. A garlean man, surely. Its…so heavy… she thought, sludging her way through the streets. She had just blown her way through some magitek devices, clearing the way onward.

From there, she had found a few non-tempered survivors, and they took her for one of their own, all with one mission in mind - escape the city.

Unfortunately, they ran into a large magitek suit of armor… they fought it off, at least until it, too, had exploded.

Once the dust settled, she found herself the only survivor. There was a ringing in her ears, and the body she wore seemed heavier than before. She could not even stand…

It seemed Taleal quite literally was going to crawl to the camp after all.

~*~

“…in the meantime we need to find our missing friend. May the Fury guide you.” Lucia saluted the Scions, turning on her heels and leaving.

“Of all the bloody times for a disappearing act…” Estinien grumbled. He eyed the others, who either sighed or nodded, but all wore worried looks on their faces.

“Right when the first wave struck. We’d be fools to think it a coincidence. But where to even begin the search? No one saw her leave in the chaos, and we’ve no trail to follow.” Thancred replied with a frown.

“While I know full well she can handle herself, I worry all the same.” Alphinaud stated, worry knitting his brows together. He shivered in the cold, wondering what was to be done about their missing Warrior of Light.

G’raha’s ears twitch, causing him to turn towards the road. A smile of relief tugs at his lips. “Ah, speak of the devil…” he muttered, gaining the attention of the rest of the Scions.

“Well! Time to call off the search.” Alisae said with a grin. She and G’raha took off down the road towards who they thought was their friend.

Alisae reached her first. “Where have you been? We’ve been worried sick!” Alisae looked Taleal up and down, appraising her. Was she all right? Was she hurt?

“Now now, alls well that ends well. Are you all right?” G’raha chided, coming to a stop next to Alisae. “ARE you all right?” his voice was laced with concern - but as soon as he looked at ‘Taleal’s’ eyes, his eyes widened, and the exarch stepped in front of the small elezen.

“…who are you?” His tone now took on an edge, sounding more like he had on the First than the G’raha Alisae was familiar with.

‘Taleal’ smirked - a look that was completely not one they were familiar with. No, this look was chilling, almost evil. And as red and black aether started to surround the Warrior of Light’s body…

“Get away from them, you bastard!!” came the cry, followed by a sword slicing the air. The voice was strange, unknown to the Scions, but the intent behind it was familiar.

The Garlean body came seemingly out of nowhere and rammed into Taleal’s body.

G’raha and Alisae drew their weapons just as the other Scions arrived, just in time to see the garlean armored body crash into their friends body.

Before any can make another move, Fandaniel appears in a cloud of black, standing just between the Scions and the bodies.

“Sadly, that is all we have time for today. The effect has run its course, and back to your own bodies you must go.” He proclaimed before turning back to the Scions.

“But where are my manners? You have all traveled so very far, and I have yet to pay my respects. Though in my defense, I was ill prepared for so many uninvited guests. As such, preliminary entertainments were in order. A handful of tempered soldiers to hamper your progress. Refugees to command your attention while I siphoned their ceruleum from the shadows - particularly effective, that. Charitable souls that you are, you bent over backwards to aid them, heedless of the delay. Predictable to a fault! And so my plan approaches completion unhindered. Anima will soon have absorbed the requisite amount of aether, and then shall come the spectacle to end all spectacles! The eldest and most powerful of primals will awaken, and all shall bear witness to the Final Days!”

Taleal blacks out. Or does she? She sees the image of Zenos before her in her semi-conscious state.

“The gods themselves will be my meal. Your dear companions my dessert. Upon this world I’ll feast, and death shall follow in my wake. All your hate, all your rage, you will render unto me.” His voice echoes and rings in her ears..

Now she blacks out in truth.

~*~

“Hnngh…” Her head was pounding. Her side hurt something fierce. What did she —

Oh.

“She’s coming to…” Taleal heard the voice as if she was under water. Her head was swimming in pain. Wincing, she slowly cracked an eye open to see the very worried, concerned faces of her friends.

This time, at least, she FELT right. Sort of. The auri held up a hand to her face to shield it from the dying light of the sun, and found the hand to be her own familiar one.

She was herself again, Tally noted.

“Everything in working order?” Y’shtola questioned, looking her friend over.

Taleal nodded carefully as she hoisted herself up to stand, wiping snow off her backside as she did so, and looked herself over. Arms, legs, armor….everything was as it should be.

“Y..yes, it seems so.” She stammered in response.

Her chest felt tight; it was far to cold, but far to warm at the same time, and everyone was staring…

Thancred’s gaze, in particular, was one of sympathetic understanding, and it just made Taleal feel all the worse. Dirty, even.

“Well. Now that THATS settled, we should make a full report to Lucia.” Alphinaud’s voice broke through Taleal’s thoughts. She managed a nod, and off they went. Though truly, she wanted nothing more than to run the other way.

How was she suppose to keep anyone safe now?

~*~

It was some hours later when Tally finally managed to slip away. Trekking through the snow, the ninja-trained warrior made her way to a lone vantage point in the wilds, thinking she was alone. She shivered despite her warm gear.

She wanted to cry, to scream…she wanted to wash away the feeling of violation from her body. Taleal felt nothing but filthy, disgusting, used…

Finally the tears began to fall, trickling down her face like the first drops of a spring rain. Her face she covered with her hands as her small body began to shake.

G’raha had seen Taleal slip away from the camp; truly, he had become so used to keeping track of her just out of habit that it was almost second nature to him now. He did not do it intentionally, but more out of worry for his dearest of friends. Without really thinking about it, he set out to follow her at a distance so as not to spook Taleal. He knew, in his heart, she probably shouldn’t be alone right now. Gods knew he wouldn’t want to be alone after what had happened.

Watching her from a behind a small tree near her vantage point - she had found a small boulder to sit on - his heart broke, seeing her in such a state. Perhaps he wasn’t suppose to see this moment, this time where she let herself break down. But here he was. If there was anyone who deserved to not be alone, especially now, it was she.

So, slowly as to not startle her, G’raha slipped up next to Taleal, gently laying a hand on her shoulder. Regardless of how careful he was, she started, wide blue eyes reddened by cold and crying stare up at him in some confusion.

For all that she was hurting now, it relieved G’raha to SEE emotion behind those eyes again. A brief thought of the dead eyed, possessed Taleal flashed in his minds eye, and he shuddered.

She sniffed, attempting to wipe her face and pretend nothing was wrong. That broke his heart all over again.

“Is…is everything okay, G’raha? Something wrong?” she asked in a feeble attempt to steady her voice, but he could hear the shakiness to her words.

“I was going to ask you something like that,” he replied, sqatting down next to her on the balls of his feet, in that way that only a miqo’te can call ‘sitting’.

“Oh, I’m —“

“Don’t tell me you’re fine,” he said, cutting her off, using what Alisae had come to call the ‘exarch tone’ of voice. “You do not have to be so strong all the time, you know. You’re allowed to…” he trailed off, watching her for reaction.

Tally looked conflicted, unsure of what to do or what he wanted. It would be so nice to have someone to lean on, to hold and be held, she thought. I want to be held right now. I’m not fine, I’m not okay!

“I…” she waivered, tears threatening to spill forth again. At her hestitation, G’raha shifted to face her better, opening his arms in a ‘come here’ gesture, as if reading her mind.

“Please. Let me help you, as you have helped me?”

The tears spilt forth then, and the white haired auri fell from her rock perch and into G’raha’s arms, tumbling both down into the garlean snow.

She cried, and he let her. G’raha held her for some time - how long, he couldn’t say, he wasn’t keeping track - and just let her weep. He ran a hand through her hair, and the other down her back, in attempts to help comfort and soothe her.

Finally, her tears began to subside, leaving behind reddened eyes and some sniffles. Tally looked up, blue eyes meeting red, and opened her mouth to speak.

“Don’t. You’ve no need to apologize, especially to me…” he’d put a finger over her lips to silence her. When she closed her mouth, G’raha wiped the tears from Tally’s face with tender, gentle fingers.

A sigh escaped Taleal’s lips as her eyes closed against his touch, tail swaying slowly behind her before it became still, resting in the snow.

G’raha’s own red eyes closed, relishing the moment - Tally splayed out against him, her arms wrapped around his torso; his fingers idly tracing the scale patterns of her cheeks, his other arm wrapped back around her waist…

Tally was, likewise, surprised but pleased. It was no secret, to most, that she was partial to and maybe even fancied the former exarch. Why she wouldn’t say anything, however, was a different matter. She was loathe to break the moment. So, she leaned in against him, savoring the touch of his fingers against skin and scale.

“I was so, so scared, G’raha. Scared he’d hurt….he’d hurt you, and Alisae, and the others…”her voice lowered, shakey with emotion. “..with. With my body. I was so scared I wouldn’t — wouldn’t get there in time to - to stop him.” A sob escaped, making any further words difficult.

All G’raha knew to do in that moment was to pull her in and hug her tighter, resting his chin upon her head.

“Its okay, now. You stopped him. He’s gone, and you’re here.”

“But what if…I almost, I almost didn’t —“

“But you did. You made it, and you stopped him. We’re fine.” He ran his hand through her hair again in what he hoped was a comforting way. G’raha kept his voice gentle but firm, hoping to confer his sincerity at what he knew to be the truth in his eyes.

When he felt Tally nod, even if it was a small gesture, it gave him some relief.

Tally hummed to herself, enjoying the feel of G’raha’s hand running through her long white hair. If she herself were a Miqo’te, well, she would be purring. It was so soothing a gesture for her, in fact, that she found herself drifting off to sleep. Instinctively, she curled up closer to G’raha for warmth, and let herself drift off.

That surprised G’raha greatly, that the small ninja would show such trust in him that she would fall asleep in his arms. He chanced a look down at her sleeping face, finally relaxed and still. He found he had let his thoughts wander, and didn’t realize right away when she was asleep.

If only we could stay this way… he thought, ‘What would I give to have more moments like this with you? To call you mine…to be yours…’

Shaking his head, he realized it had become rather late, and he was cold. Shifting carefully, the miqo’te gathered the auri woman up in his arms as best he could without disturbing her.

Holding her carefully in his arms, G’raha made his way back to camp, making a beeline for Taleal’s quarters. For the few people that were still out and about, who gave an odd look to the miqo’te carrying the Warrior of Light, he ignored.

He put her to bed, making sure she was properly covered and tucked in. As much as he would have liked to stay, he felt perhaps he may cross a line by doing so. Instead, he leaned over, leaving a light kiss on her forehead before retreating for his own room.

#ffxiv #ffxiv wol #wolgraha #wolship #ffxiv endwalker #ffxiv fanfiction

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fairytaleyaya · 2 years

Text

chop chop hair gone - joshua hong

synopsis: during march quarantine (yes imagine its two years ago cuz i´m still in 2020) everything was shut down, including hair dressers which made it very difficult for your boyfriend Joshua whose hair was getting way too long these days, not that you complained. Until one day he asked you to cut his hair so you thought this could make a good video for your channel.

pairing: idol boyfriend! joshua x youtuber! reader

genre: fluff

word count: 1.7k

warnings: none, just a bunch of fluff

song recs:

strawberry moon - iu

polaroid love - enhypen

hello - joy

a/n: this is written for my lovely bestie @cuti3chw3 i love you <3 and please leave requests everyone this user needs requests

------------------------------------------------------------

You and your cute boyfriend were just chilling on your couch, with not much to do other than watching dramas, checking emails, scrolling through social media reading fan comments. If it weren´t for this virus you two would be enjoying a relaxing spring holiday in paris, eating macaroons in front of the Eiffel tower. But you had to cancel this holiday and your detailed planning went to waste, now you were locked in your shared apartment.

Not that you complained about this extra alone time with your boyfriend, it was refreshing to finally have enough time for each other as you both are always busy with your hectic schedules. Your legs were resting on joshua´s lap while your head was on a pillow looking through your phones, when you finally spoke “I´m so bored, I hate this quarantine thing already” you pouted looking at your boyfriend. he just put a hand on your knee and said “I know baby but bear a little, you can survive staying at home for some time” You sighed, sitting up “Yeah a few weeks and it´ll be fine. Then let me go film my idk 20th ´get ready with me´ video” you stood up from the couch, walking towards your filming room “Okay but can you cut my hair after filming? It´s getting way too long” he said that with such ease that it caught you off guard, you turned on your heel to face him “Me? Don´t you have a hair dresser” you asked, forgetting that due to quarantine hair dressers are closed. “Dummy of course I do, but it´s closed” you face palmed yourself “Ah shit I forgot about that… But me? Are you sure? Like do you trust me with your hair? What if I ruin it?” he stood up to go to the kitchen, filling a glass with water “Of course I do and it´s just hair. It isn´t the end of the world if you cut a little too much” You were honestly kinda amazed at how he trusted you with his precious hair but also a bit sad because you loved how long it got. Perfect for playing with it late nights while watching movie. “But I liked the long hair…” you said, he smiled softly at your comment “I´m happy you liked it, but i´m a little uncomfortable, it´s hard to maintain the long hair I can´t even eat without tying it anymore. I respect you girls so much now.” You gave him a little kiss on his cheek and moved his long hair to the side “Then it´s the best if it gets a little shorter!” he smiled and drank a sip of the water he just got “Then go film your video, I´ll phone with jeonghan or something while you do that”

Then your mind lightened like a light bulb “Oh my god! Fuck the get ready with me, I need to film cutting your hair. Joshua Hong let´s me cut his hair and I won´t document that? Hell nah” your relationship was exposed by dispatch this new year, but thankfully both of your fans reacted in majority positive and were happy for you so Joshua often made appearances in your vlogs, you even once interviewed Seventeen, that´s how you two met. But that’s a story for another time. With all that newly found excitement you sprinted over to the filming room to prepare the camera and equipment. Joshua just laughed at you suddenly becoming hyperactivity itself while going to the bathroom, grabbing scissors and his brush, finding his way into your filming room. You were already checking your camera when he placed everything in his hands to the side, going up to you to wrap his arms around your waist, leaving a kiss on your exposed shoulder by your oversized top. “Shua! I´m working” he chuckled, leaving to let you focus on the camera “Okay okay I´m sorry babe. I´ll just cover the floor with a trash bag, else everything will become full of hair.”

Soon both of you were finally ready to start the adventure. Joshua was settled on a chair, hair damped wet so you can cut better (you watched some videos, and the hair was wet all the time, so he got rained on in the shower for you a little ;) with you behind him, holding a brush and scissors, ready to be used on his perfect hair. “Ready?” you asked because you were about to start the recording. “Sure let´s go” with that you pressed a button for the camera to start recording and rushed back to your place in the frame

Hello everyone welcome back to my channel! I´m y/n as you guys know and this is my handsome boyfriend Joshua with long hair, not for too long though you giggled so ready to drop the bomb

Hi! Joshua waved at the camera before you could start explaining what is going to happen today

So just like about 30min ago Joshua suggested my I cut his hair, because everything is shut down and his hair got so long. I love the long hair but as you guys can see from the setting, we are going to cut his hair! You won´t break up with me if I mess up right?

I won´t y/n it´s just hair!

Even if one side ends up shaved and the other one cut with the worst transitions?

Yes, I won´t die from a certain haircut, just cut it

Even if you end up bald?

You don´t even have a razor here how am I supposed to end up bald? You´re overthinking just do it

Okay guys he won´t get mad nor break up with me if I mess up, we can get to work our magic on his beautiful hair

Who said I won´t get mad? He smiled smugly

Shuaaaaa you started sulking

I´m joking babe! Come on cut it, don´t be scared

With that being said you started sectioning his hair carefully, going through every step like Brad Mondo instructed you in that tutorial you watched a few minutes ago. Soon enough you were ready to cut.

I´m going to cut! Aaah fuck I´m so nervous I´ll mess up

Language miss!

As if you don´t curse

I fucking don`t???

Got you!

Ah shut up, and go ahead

Okay hold your head still and DO NOT move you instructed and he did as you said

Oh my god shua I think your mullet is partly gone, your fans are going to kill me

They won´t and it´ll grow back in two weeks anyways, my hair grows fast

Well okay if you say so, carats please don´t get mad I loved the long hair as much as you did, your idol wants it short

Yeah cuz it´s hard to maintain!

The rest of the hair cutting process went by very quick, you got confident in no time and aced it, at least that´s what you think. There are some uneven parts where you went a little too short but the front looks nice because you weren´t as daring there, only trimming it, that way it wasn´t as easy to mess up and still looked good. Joshua told you to cut a little more and not be scared at the front but your hairstylist skills weren´t as good yet to ruin the front of his hair. And your first client wasn´t staying still all the time like you ordered him to

Shua stop moving around

I´m staying still!

No you´re not! Now please my juice box you move your head a little down to take a sip of the juice box your boyfriend is holding at your face

Being a hairstylist is hard guys I need the refreshment

Want a strawberry too? He asked holding out a strawberry to feed you

Yes please! Not gonna lie it doesn´t look that bad you admired your finished work of art

Or are you just too handsome to look bad in a hairstyle? Here a mirror

Joshua looked at himself and his hair in all angles for a whole minute before nodding his head

Yeah it looks so good, damn you´re good at this! See you didn´t ruin my hair, you´re too talented for that

Thank you, you´re flattering me shua. Now this was the video, thankfully you guys didn´t witness a fight over me ruining my boyfriend´s hair. 100k likes and I´ll bleach his hair plus eyebrows!

WHAT?!?!?! I never agreed to this! No guys we´re not doing that!

Come on nobody´s gonna see you

Okay 200k likes and I will bleach y/n´s hair plus eyebrows too! He smiled into the camera with the cutest expression

NO! In your dreams!

See! Nobody is getting their hair and eyebrows bleached now end the video I want to cuddle

Stop being so mean to my viewers! Okay guys thank you for tuning in and watching, we´ll clean this mess here now and then cuddle like he said then you went close to the camera and whispered 100k likes offer still stands before you turn off the camera Joshua yells NO

You end the video, laughter filling the before you finally regain your voice “I can´t wait to bleach your hair and eyebrow” he stands up from the chair brushing his hair “You got way too comfortable in the hair thing” he said while walking closer to you, wrapping his arms around your wait once again, lips brushing on your indicating a kiss that would turn into a makeout eventually if you didn´t pull your head away “Stop, you have hair all over your body go and shower!” he laughed separating himself from you “Wanna join me in the shower?” he at least tried. “No! Shower and free yourself from the hair all over your body then I´ll consider giving you cuddles!” you shove him out of your filming room towards the shower “At least give me a kiss before I shower!” he didn´t get the kiss, just a “Nope! I´ll be busy editing this video!”

thank you for reading!

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angelamajiki · 3 years

Text

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐚 𝐦𝐚𝐧

PAIRINGS: Yandere! Fatgum x Female! Sidekick! Reader

CW: noncon, voyeurism, bell bulge, size kink, praise kink, breeding, cunninglingus, bondage, dumbification

AN: This is a piece for Fern’s 1k Event! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE ! Read the intro and first piece before reading this one! Ty <3 P.S. the italicized quotes are Nighteye’s and reader prior convo

Gluttony: The Second Circle of Dante’s Inferno

“What I like about gluttony,' a bishop I knew used to say, 'is that it doesn't hurt anyone else.'”

You hadn’t the faith to believe him when he said it.

It was hard to call the exchanges that occurred between the two of you a conversation. More or less, he spoke the truth of your reality and you simply didn’t have the gall to question it.

The elevator he thrust you into was cold and unnerving despite the cheesy jazz music that thankfully filled the void of silence you were sure would have deafened you if it prolonged itself. It gave you time to think on his words, more so than you would have liked to.

“The flesh endures the storms of the present alone; the mind, those of the past and future as well as the present. Gluttony is a lust of the mind. It is a poison that is all-consuming of the senses.”

Gluttony was the next trial, so it seemed. Lord knows what lies ahead for you, leaving you foolishly clutching to the notion that this circle couldn’t possibly be worse than the last.

The abrupt halt to the elevator allows the gravity of the situation to sink in fully. The inescapable horror was creeping in through the crack in the door, especially when it opened to find a man waiting for you.

And what a man he was, standing at nearly eight feet.

“Just the gal I was lookin’ for! I was worried my favorite lil sidekick had run off right after quitin’ time.”

An enormous, gloved hand clapped down on your shoulder, lingering far longer than you would have liked.

“Follow me to my office, yeah? I got something I wanna discuss with ya.”

And just like that, the string of fate slipped around your neck like a noose and pulled you along down the empty hallway, save for you, the man, and the numerous amounts of plaques, awards, and other celebratory memorabilia decorating the agency halls.

Judging by the pictures you saw yourself in, you were a hero of sorts, working alongside the unnamed man and two others you had yet to meet. Hopefully, your paths would never cross.

Even inside his office, you could see the remnants of what your life would be in this circle of hell. Whoever was with you seemed to be very fond of you, given the number of photographs and newspaper clippings adorning his desk and walls of the office.

“Y’know, I’ve been thinking about you a lot, and not just your fantastic work as a hero. Been thinking about what a fine woman you’ve grown to be.”

Those large hands found your shoulders again, stroking and rubbing to set you at ease in his grasp.

“Strong.”

One dipped down to your waist.

“Sweet.”

The other onto your arm.

“Everything a man like me needs. You sure fill my appetite in more than one way.”

Finally, the rest on your hips, thumbing circles into the soft flesh he took purchase in there.

Ah, so this was the glutton in question.

“I’m not sure I’m following what you mean.”

Just play dumb, maybe this circle will have mercy on you.

“Oh, don’t play coy with me, honey. There’s no reason to get all shy on me; I promise I don’t bite-”

His hand slid up to your neck, resting comfortably while enveloping the entirety of it with just his palm.

“Unless you ask for it.”

The whisper in his voice sent shivers down your spine, leaving you frozen in his grasp. It was undeniable that you would never beat him, no matter what your power may be in this world. Hell, if you even had one, how certain were you that you could use it?

Your options were far and few between, but laying down and taking it like some pathetic little bitch was not going to be an option for you. Not here, not now.

The shrill sound of your own voice even hurt your own ears as you cried for help, thrashing wildly in the grip of the man.

Your cries for help should have been chosen more carefully, seeing as when your two apparent saviors sped into the room, they opted to help the man pin you down even further.

“Damn, she’s being a feisty little thing-”

“Fatgum, let go of her neck! You’re gonna hurt her.”

“S-Should we really be doing this?”

And so you were left bound against the top of the desk, shrouded in a swarth of tentacles pinning your legs open and your hands above your head.

“Thank you, boys. Didn’t realize she would cause such a stir.”

So Fatgum was his name, or so it appeared to be an alias of some sorts.

“Fatgum, please-”

His smile was sickeningly sweet as he towered over you.

“Awe, no need for formalities with me, sugar plum. Just call me Tai, yeah?”

The two other men stood beside you, watching their boss closely as he dealt with you.

“Curiosity is gluttony. To see is to devour.”

Damn that cursed man for sending you down here in that goddamn elevator. This journey alone made it nearly impossible to keep this strength to see your mother again alive.

“Tai, please. I don’t-” His hearty laugh cut you off. “Begging already, sugar? By the fight you put up, I’d almost thought you didn’t want me anymore.”

“I don’t!” You protested, squirming in your slimy bonds before they tightened uncomfortably around you.

“Don’t yell at him like that. It's unbecoming of you.”

The raven-haired man snapped at you, looking down with a blush seared across his face and up to his ears.

“Relax, Tamaki. She just needs a reminder of who she belongs, ain’t that right? But, he’s right, I can't have you mouthing off like that, now can I?”

Slipping his black mask off his eyes, Tai fastened it around your mouth and head, loosely gagging you.

“Yeah, you belong to us!”

It was the redhead’s turn to pipe up before Tai shushed the pair of men.

“Now, now, I know you’re fond of our sweet little sidekick here, but this?”

He clapped a hand over still clothed pussy, rubbing gently.

“This here is mine; you boys can’t have this. But you’re more than welcome to stay and watch as I indulge myself.”

You whined into the gag, looking at him with teary eyes as he ripped a hole in your bottoms and panties.

“Hey, hey, hey. No need for tears, honeybun. You're safe with me, okay? I’m gonna take such good care of my little sweetheart, don’t you worry about a thing.”

His large fingers stroked over your clit slowly and tenderly, kissing your salty tears away as he shushed you with praise and loving words. Thumbing your clit, he pushed his middle fingers into you at a slow pace, grinning softly when you bit back a moan.

“Come on now, girl. We wanna hear how good I’m makin’ ya feel, ain’t that right, boys?”

Their collective groans of pleasure gave you all the response you needed; those sick fucks were getting off on you being harassed by your boss.

His finger sped up in pace, making you squeal once he curled his finger in an upwards motion. “Can’t wait to hear what you’ll sound like on my cock, sweet girl. Gonna sing us a nice song?”

Another finger slipped in as his free hand pawed at your tits, fondling and groping as he finger fucked you a new sense of vigor.

“As much as I don't want to hurt you, sweetheart, I’m just itching to get inside you and feel that pretty cunt around me. You understand, don’t you? I just can’t help myself when it comes to you.”

His lips continued to litter your skin in kisses to your face, licking at the tears that fell from your eyes when he added a third finger into your tight, wet hole.

“Mhm, you won’t mind if I have a taste, do ya?”

You could only whine in response.

“Of course you don’t, my good girl never says no to me.”

A hot mouth sealed itself around your clit as three fingers pumped in and out of you steadily, hitting all the right spots repeatedly. You squealed and shook in your binds, feeling your orgasm approaching hard and fast with the aid of his tongue lapping and suckling at you.

“Gonna cum for me, pretty girl?”

That was all you needed to feel yourself reach that blinding peak, sobbing and writhing as he rode out your ecstasy. His tongue continued to work at you far after you were finished, overestimating you without a care in the world. Your whines of protest fell on deaf ears as he just pulled your body closer to his face.

“Taste so good, sweetheart. I’ll stop when I’m finished with my meal, y’understand? This is my pussy, and I’ll do what I want with it.”

Leaving you twitching and sobbing, Tai finally pulled away and stood up, pulling his cock out and stroking it above you.

“Can’t wait to breed my pussy. Gonna make you my cute little cream puff.”

Both of his massive hands circled around you waist, pulling you flush against him as he sank all the way into your tight heat. The stretch of his girth was quite nearly unbearable as he pushed himself to the hilt inside of you, rubbing the small bulge in your belly with fondness while peering down at you.

“You feel so good, sweetheart. I knew you’d be so good for me. Yer takin’ me so well.”

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as he slowly pulled out, leaving your legs twitching wildly when his thumb found its way back to your clit before he sank back in all the way. You could snark about how courteous it was of him to allow you to adjust, but the thread of consciousness was hard to grasp onto as he completely dominated your mind with numbing pleasure.

“You were made to take my cock, sweet thing. Let me give you a treat for bein’ so obedient for me.”

His praise went straight to your gut, as much as you hated to admit it, leaving you feeling pliable and soft under his demanding touch. Those hands around your waist pulled at your body, bringing you back and forth on his cock like you were a goddamn fleshlight.

“Ah, ” he grunted. “I don't think I can hold back much longer; you’ll let me be selfish, won’t ya?”

With that, all sense of tenderness and gentleness was thrown out the window as he picked you up from the desk, holding you against his chest as he jackhammered into you with an impossible pace of his hips.

“Shit! Squeezing me so tight, bein’ such a good little fucktoy for me.”

The sounds of skin slapping and the collective sounds of pleasure rang heavy in the room as he used and abused your throbbing pussy, feeling his grip on you tighten when he was reaching his own high.

“Fuck! I’m gonna cum, gonna stuff my pussy nice and full!”

The bulge on your stomach grew even more as he came, stuffing you to the hilt with his cum and his cock. Ropes of it leaked out of your hole, even as he stayed inside you, panting and kissing at your sweaty forehead.

“Gave ‘em a good show, didn’t we, sweetheart? Say thank you, boys.”

Their thanks were mumbled out as they too had exhausted themselves just from the display of your pleasure. Tamaki’s tentacles retracted themselves from you, allowing you to stretch and return feeling to your arms and legs.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen, sweetheart. We’re - hey, are you with me? I’m gonna clean you up and take you back home with me, okay? No more hero nonsense for you, ya hear me? All you need to do from now on is stay home and keep that pussy warm for me.”

Like hell you were going to stay for another damned second in this realm, not after being violated so horrifically.

“O-Okay.”

Play it cool, play it cool.

“Let me go to the bathroom, then.” You swallowed, hoping to fool the men. “A-And I’ll get my change of clothes and we can go home.”

You didn’t wait for a response, hobbling out of the office before making a break down the hall for the elevator. Their shouts echoed off the hallway walls as you ran with all your strength left back into the safety of the elevator, leaving them running after you before the door shut on them.

“Gluttony is a great fault; but we do not necessarily dislike a glutton. We only dislike the glutton when he becomes a gourmet-that is, we only dislike him when he not only wants the best for himself, but knows what is best for other people.”

— tagging: @sightoru @anarchicmartyr @natsuonii @whumperooni @viixens @lunar-nebula @trafalgar-temptress

#yandere fatgum x reader #yandere fatgum #fatgum x reader #fatgum #yandere mha #yandere bnha #yandere my hero academia #yandere boku no hero academia

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shurisneakers · 3 years

Note

if you're taking ideas for harmless drabbles, i'd love to see one of bucky on one of those dates he mentioned and reader's shenanigans. if you aren't, feel free to ignore this!

a/n: are we really going to let a word limit define what a drabble is? is the vibe and spirit not enough? i say this bc this is 5.7k words long im so sorry. also hey thank you to everyone who piped in with their knowledge of violent geese and how apartment security works in new york!! also thanks to my bby @spiderrpcrker for reading this and telling me to publish this bc i wasnt going to fkjghfkj

warning: swearing, bad luck, dates, frustrated bucky, anxiety, mentions of gore but like only a sentence

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Catch up with the rest of the series here: Harmless Masterlist

Bucky returns only two weeks later. His mission lasted longer than expected and all he wants is to lie down and sleep for forty eight hours straight.

“FRIDAY?” he mumbles, kicking off his shoes. His jacket had already been discarded by his bedroom door when he walked in.

“Yes, Sergeant Barnes?”

“How are ya?” He doesn’t miss a beat in asking, even though he’s exhausted.

“As good as ever. Did you have a successful mission?”

“If by successful you mean one sprained limb instead of two, then yeah.” He wasn’t really cribbing. His ankle was already starting to heal anyway and it was worth the roundhouse kick to a Nazi's face. “Do I have anything scheduled for this weekend?”

“You have a meeting on your calendar scheduled for this Saturday.”

“Could you send a text to Y/N and ask if we can push it to the next day?” His muscles feel sore and God, he could definitely use a hot shower but all of that becomes secondary the minute he feels the sheets under him.

“Would you like me to reschedule the other one as well?”

“What’s that?” He opens one eye in confusion. “There’s another one?”

“It’s on Sunday. You’ve labelled it ‘date’.”

Ah, fuck.

“Would you like me to change it?” FRIDAY never sounds like she’s judging him, which is nice. It also reminds him about how she, as an AI, can’t judge him, which is a rude wake-up call to how he doesn’t have friends.

“No,” his voice is muffled against the pillow, “no, let it be. Where is it again?”

“You’ve only specified diner, Sergeant Barnes.”

Public space, daytime, plenty of escape routes. Good on his less delirious self for selecting a diner.

“Thanks, FRIDAY.” Now that he’s a little more relaxed, he can feel himself slip in and out of consciousness.

“One last thing," her automated voice commands his attention again. "Y/N replied. She says sure and to take care.”

“Yay.” Not even a second later he’s out like a light.

____

“Did you bring me any souvenirs?” Is the first thing he hears as he marches into your lair.

“What could I possibly get you?”

“A postcard, a t-shirt.” You don’t look up from your tinkering.

“Decapitated finger, used bullets,” he continues, “cement blocks.”

“Ew.” You snap the lid shut on the thing you’re working on, spinning around on your chair. "That's not nearly romantic enough."

“That’s all you’re going to get from a Russian underground bunker.” He does a mini jog up the stairs of the platform to where you are.

“Does the finger have a ring at lea- oh hello?” You raise an eyebrow at the sight of him. “You look different.”

He peers down. The outfit was still all black. As always.

“Not your clothes, dummy,” you interrupt, making him look back at you. “Your face. What’d you do?”

He unconsciously raises a hand to his cheek.

“Did you wash your face? Is that it?” you squint at him. “Has it been a few months since the last time?”

“Wow, you’re so funny,” he drawls sarcastically. “Top tier comedian right there.”

“No wait, it’s the beard.” You snap your fingers in realisation, completely ignoring his comment. “You trimmed it.”

“So what if I did?” He leans on your table.

“You going somewhere?” you ask, elastic snapping against your hands as you remove your gloves.

“It’s none of your busi-”

“Hold on a second.” A sly smile begins to make its way onto your face. “Are you going on a date, Bucky Barnes?”

His comeback dies down in his throat. That didn’t take you very long for you to figure out.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” You look smug, to say the least.

“Shut up.” A ray of light glistening distracts him. He traces it to the thing you were working on earlier.

“Where are you guys going?” You cross your arm across your chest, a small smirk on your face.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” It’s a silver box, engraved intricately with swirls that, when he observes carefully, looks like a skull. Wow, terrifying.

“I’m literally asking you.”

“What are those?” He shifts the conversation towards a more productive angle instead.

“Evil in a box and some other stuff.” You shrug offhandedly. “Is it a lunch date or just coffee?”

“Like Pandora’s Box?”

“A discount version, sure,” you confirmed impatiently. “Stop changing the topic, listen to me.”

He tilts his head, waiting for you to continue.

“Do you need a chaperone?” The sincerity in your voice for such a bullshit question has him scoffing.

“Good God- no, I do not need a chaperone. I’m 106 years old, I can go out unsupervised.” He reaches over and plucks the box off your table.

“Sir, you’re a geriatric."

“What are those?” He points to a few ray odd ray guns.

“Minor stuff you don’t have to worry about right now.”

He shakes the box in his hand. “What’s gonna happen if I open this?”

“Very bad things,” you whispered ominously before your volume returns to normal. “How’d you meet this person? Online?”

“She’s Natasha’s friend.” He turns the box over, seeing a small latch at the side. “What bad things?”

“Bad luck and misery. Don’t play with it, it’s dangerous.” You pull the box away from him. “Aw, is it a blind date?”

“Why do you care so much?” he shoots back, tugging the box back towards him.

“Just lookin’ out for you, Bucko,” you huff, adjusting your grip on your device. “Need to keep my favourite senior citizen safe.”

“I have a vibranium arm.” Whose force he could use to grab the box once and for all, but wasn’t. “I think I’ll be fine.”

“What if she has one too, huh? Then what?”

“She doesn’t.” As far as he knows, he’s the only one alive with a metal appendage made out of the strongest metal in the world. That could very well change by tomorrow but he's keeping the title for now.

“But what if she does? I swear to- stop trying to take the box!” You pull a little more forcefully, but he doesn’t relent.

“I want this to get over before this evening.”

“What time’s your date?”

“Why do you care?” He’s sure anyone who saw the dumb tug-of-war you both were playing would just automatically assume he was an absolute manchild, not an Avenger.

“Because.” You don’t explain further. “Tell me what time your date is, you weirdo.”

“Five o’clock, now let go.”

“Fine,” you say, suddenly loosening your grip. Clearly, it doesn't make much of a difference since he isn't struggling to keep his balance from the sudden loss of force.

“Fine.” He clears his throat, straightening up.

You don’t say anything. He doesn’t either.

A putrid smell creeps into his nose, one all too similar to spoiled milk and decaying seaweed. He has to physically stop himself from gagging.

“Have a good day.” You smile and lean far back. Too far. It looks like you're almost going to fall out of the chair.

Through the tears that are threatening to line his eyelids, he looks down at the box whose latch you somehow managed to lift, leaving the box open.

“What the fuck is this?” He coughs, swatting at the air in front of him to clear it.

“I told you; bad luck in a box.”

“You can’t scientifically create bad luck, that’s bullshit.” He tosses the box back onto your table. You watch it slide past you, not making any effort to stop it. “What is it really?”

“I’m not lying.” You pull open a drawer, brandishing a small table fan that you set down beside you. “If you open it, you’re going to have terrible luck for the day.”

He glowers at you when you turn the fan on, forcing the fumes back towards him.

“Besides, that’s all I was doing today.” You kick your feet up. “So you can leave now.”

He doesn’t care if you’re lying about not having anything else to do today. You could burn down the world if you wanted to but he needs to take a stupid shower. Again.

“You’re the fuckin’ worst.” He tries airing out his shirt, hoping that the smell would dissipate as soon as possible.

“Have fun on your date, sarge!” you encourage him as he stalks out of the lair. “Remember to wrap it befo-”

He turns it into a sprint before you can finish.

____

Six hours later and he’s absolutely convinced he fucked up.

He isn’t used to having his weekends free.

He realises that this is the first time in months that he’s actually stepped out of the Tower for something that wasn’t directly mission-related. He should probably get some air. Touch some grass. See the sun.

His shirt thankfully manages to rid itself of the odour from the dumb box so he didn’t have to go take a shower. With nothing much planned and a few hours to spare, he heads to the coffee shop instead.

It’s a small place, bustling and alive with a crowd of people. They have a little bookshelf that usually is full of books donated by patrons, free for anyone to read.

The barista smiles at him. The coffee costs more than his high school education. He awkwardly smiles back.

He’s not a regular, but they’ve seen him enough times to know that he usually asks for black coffee in a to-go cup, later adding a sugar or two according to his own taste. They're nice to him, occasionally throwing in a cookie or something on the house. He can't tell if it's because of the Avenger status or the sizeable tip he leaves.

He picks up a random book from the shelf, fully intending not to read it but to just sit there and think. The book acted as a shield for his resting bitch face, resting murder face and his resting rage face. More often than not, a good combination of the three.

He sets the coffee down at the corner table he manages to nab in a quick second, along with the two sachets of sugar.

“Is this seat taken?” Someone asks from beside him. He earnestly shakes his head in a ‘no’, gesturing for them to take it.

They give him a quick thanks and drag the chair away from his table.

He does a quick overlook of the book he picked up.

The Princess Diaries by Meg Cabot.

Well, now he’s too anxious to put it back. YA fiction it is.

He reaches for the sugar while glossing over the summary. He reaches a little further when it doesn’t come to his hand immediately, blindly running his fingers across the table.

Bucky peeks over the book, eyebrows knitting together when he notices that they’re missing.

He was sure he picked it up.

He looks underneath the table. It wasn’t there, neither under his seat. Strange, but okay. He picks up the book and the cup, walking back to the station to grab two sugars.

This time he makes sure to tuck it into his pocket, double-checking before going back to his table.

Which was now occupied. He wanted to groan.

His mind automatically reverts back to the box from that morning.

“Come on,” he scoffs quietly to himself. It was a coincidence. “Get yourself together.”

“A seat at the counter just cleared up,” the barista from earlier offers when she sees him standing in the middle of the store.

See? Good luck.

He shoots her a grateful look, venturing over to the barstool to take his place. It’s not the most comfortable, but then again, he wasn’t planning to stay there for very long.

He empties the sugar into the coffee, stirring slowly before opening a random page in the book.

He takes a long sip, ignoring how hot the drink was.

He chokes immediately. Because either he was losing his mind or his order had somehow got switched from ‘no sugar’ to ‘diabetes in a cup’.

He takes another small sip and his face immediately twists in disgust. Definitely too sweet. The sweetener he added only made it worse.

He catches the eye of the barista. She looks on in concern.

“Is everything okay?”

Fuck.

He’s not one to make a scene. He just wants to live as imperceptibly as he could.

“Yep.” The sweetness sticks to the back of his throat. “All good.”

He just closes his eyes and downs the rest of it without thinking twice, trying to hide the grimace in his face. He gives her a weak thumbs up. She doesn't look convinced.

He leaves the shop soon after, hands shoved in his pocket. Maybe he could go sit by the lake at Central Park, watch the clouds. It reminded Bucky of the lake in front of his hut in Wakanda and the hours he'd sit in front of it, feet dipped into the water as his goats fed. He misses it.

He makes a sharp turn at a corner, still thinking about his options when his ankle abruptly twists under him.

He stumbles rather ungracefully, almost hitting the ground, but manages to save himself through the newly built up immunity he has towards falling thanks to all his encounters with you.

His gaze lands on his hardcore combat boots. Their laces had come undone.

Now he just knew that was horseshit. He always double knots them; they had never loosened in the past before.

The box.

He shoves the thought out of his head, crouching down to tie them again. He tugs on them to make sure they’re secure before standing up again.

Central Park is a few blocks away but he’s glad he didn’t bring his bike. The weather was rather nice and the wind in his hair felt good.

He wanders around the park for a while, looking for the lake. He pauses at a board with a map of the park on it, assessing how far it was.

Once he's ascertained which path to go towards, he turns on his heel to go.

He fucking trips again.

“Are you serious?” he says furiously under his breath. “Cut it out.”

He’s half-convinced that he should tie it around his ankle like a sexy lace-up set of heels. He ties a triple knot this time, glares at it until he’s sure it’s fine and checks to see if anyone saw him humiliate himself.

Only a person on a nearby bench who looked like they were passed out drunk, given that their hoodie and sunglasses clad self was slumped over.

No witnesses. No 'You won't BELIEVE what the Winter Soldier did! Critics say it's his biggest blunder yet!' articles the next day on social media.

He manages to make it to the lake in one piece and no more falls, partly because he keeps his eyes fixed on his shoes to ensure no fuckery occurs.

There are a few people rowing and plenty of others lining the bank at scattered locations. There’s a mom and her kid at the place he ends up. She sends him a small smile in greeting and he returns the favour.

There’s a secluded bench that he takes a place on, letting out a small sigh. If he ignores the traffic and the skateboarders and the people in general, it’s actually kind of peaceful.

There are geese and their little goslings swimming around the water close to the shore. Maybe he should have brought some birdseed. Or kale.

The kid beside him is busy fashioning something out of leaves, only occasionally erupting into giggles when it doesn't pan out. His mom watches him fondly, pointing at twigs he could use. Everything seems kind of picture-perfect and his body automatically relaxes, easing further into the seat and closing his eyes for a second.

Until there's a large splash and loud distressed honking. He whips his head around to find the same kid staring straight ahead at the goose with a wide grin. His mother curses quietly, picking herself up off the ground and grabbing his hand, half chastising him for throwing something at an animal and half urging him to walk faster.

The goose turns to Bucky. With no one else to blame for the sudden attack, it logically launches itself at him. His smile drops.

He gets up in a rush. The dumb bird nearly comes for his head, but he deflects with his metal arm.

“I didn’t even do anything.” He swats at it swiftly, trying not to cause any real damage. The goose, understandably, does not speak English.

He flinches when one of them bites at his knee. He can punt it to the sun but he doesn’t want to.

“Stop that.” He sticks his hand out to shove the stupid thing away, retreating back to the road. “Jesus, why are you so aggressive?”

Among the barrage of feathers showering on him, he prays his damn shoelace doesn’t unravel as he shields his head with one arm, the other fending himself while he moves hurriedly away.

The goose honks angrily at him. He scowls at it, not exactly pleased with the reminder that these fucking overgrown ducks were constantly bloodthirsty.

It doesn’t leave him alone till he’s significantly away from where he was sitting. He wants to call it profanity but that’d probably piss it off more.

The box and its effects were definitely starting to feel real.

Fuck it, no more day out for him. The best plan he can think of is to just go to the diner he’s supposed to meet his date at.

The waiter greets him with a courteous nod, which Bucky can only imagine was the best he could muster when a dishevelled 200-pound man walks in covered in goose feathers and irritation.

He won't admit that he’s too scared to eat lunch at this point because he can’t rule out food poisoning. He spends the next two hours on his phone playing Fruit Ninja and plucking feathers that accented his all-black outfit.

Several glasses of water later and a second before he’s about to beat his high score, someone taps on his shoulder, breaking him out of his concentration.

Motherfu-

He clenches his eye shut, inhaling deeply before turning around.

“James?”

“Hey, yeah, that’s me.” Bucky almost falls over the table with how fast he stands up, clearly underestimating his size. “Leah?”

“Hi.” She smiles and he finds himself smiling nervously along with her.

“Hi.” He steps out to pull out her chair for her and she laughs. "Nice to meet you."

“How long have you been waiting here?” she asks while setting down her bag.

“Around ten minutes.” He clears his throat to hopefully hide the fact that he was lying through his teeth.

“Just give me a second, I need to tell my friend I reached,” Leah pulls out her phone and he nods.

“Another glass of water for you?” The waiter seems less enthusiastic about Bucky’s 8th refill.

“Yes,” he answers, hoping he doesn’t call him out on it, “please.”

“You must be really dehydrated."

Bucky turns to look at him slowly. “I like the taste.”

He can’t really blame the guy. Bucky’s been there for hours without ordering anything solid, just leaching off their free water and complimentary bread basket.

“So, James.” She tosses her phone back into her bag, leaning forward on her palms easily. “Tell me about yourself.”

He had rehearsed this a million times. He could do this.

“I, uh,-”

“Menu?” Okay, so someone clearly had a vendetta against him.

“Thank you.” She takes it with a smile.

His morning debacle with the coffee flashes through his mind. Suddenly the idea of a diner didn’t seem so smart.

However, she’s already placed her order and George is standing beside him expectantly, daring him to ask for another glass of water, so he places his usual order and hopes that your stupid bad luck thing wore off.

He quickly learns that his date is laid back, and it isn’t hard to fall into a rhythm with her even though she’s the one asking most of the questions.

“How’d you meet Nat?” Is his attempt at one.

“She used to come in for lunch every week at the place I work.” Leah leans back in her chair. “She can really handle her alcohol.”

He’d be worried about Nat day drinking if he didn’t know about her complete inability to get drunk. She might as well have been downing glasses of lemonade.

“Yeah, she’s-” Intimidating, scary, cool “-really something.”

“She mentioned that you like movies.” He definitely spends a lot of time watching them. “You got any recommendations?”

It’s easier to figure out how different things are or how much he missed out over the years through them. He’s glad he sat out the early 2000s, judging by their fashion sense and hairstyles.

He's watched several movies over the past few months, a few of them critically acclaimed and others who were just there for the cult following.

But now everything goes blank and the only thing that he can remember are the biopics made about Steve that were somehow hilarious for gifting him the mental image of Freddie Prinze Jr. dressed in the stars and stripes, and highly distressing for the number of historical inaccuracies. Contrary to popular belief, Stevie did not, in fact, consider running for president after he took up the shield, nor did he start his own bar chain.

He can’t name Oh Captain, My Captain starring Channing Tatum as his favourite movie on his first date and hope to make a good first impression.

“Despicable Me was kinda fun.” He wants to kill himself. “I mean, it’s the last one I saw.”

Her face twists in mild disgust, but he can tell it isn't ill-intentioned. “It's a good movie, but God, that just gave me some intense flashbacks to my aunt’s Facebook page. Don’t think I can look at a minion ever again.”

He sniggers with her. He doesn’t know what the context is.

He’s a little awkward, and he can definitely tell he isn’t the most open book but she laughs at some of his attempts at jokes. There’s a distinct discomfort he has lingering at the back of his mind prodding at him, telling him over and over again that he isn’t ready for something like this. A warning bell, asking him to leave as soon as possible because he was in a dangerous situation.

He remembers what his therapist told him about breathing and remembering that the resources he had available were greater than his anxiety and he tries to get out of his head. It takes a few minutes of acting like he's fine but he manages to do it.

Other than the one time he scalds his tongue on the coffee but played it off with a pained smile, shoving down thoughts of your stupid invention, things actually went okay.

It was nice, even though they decided by the end that it was better if they both gelled together better as friends. It lifts the strange fear he feels and he can hear Dr. Mendoza say she's proud of him for taking this step before spending three hours psychoanalysing why they decided to stay platonic.

Bucky promises to visit her sushi shop with Nat soon and she says a bottle of sake awaits him for a drinking game. He doesn’t have the heart to tell her that Nat and he share the same tolerance for alcohol.

He makes sure to leave George a tip. A big one. It’s the first time he sees the guy smile the entire evening.

He’s waving goodbye to Leah outside and he thinks that maybe it was a good end to the day and that things actually turned out fine.

Until he turns around to leave, only to have someone walk straight into him with an iced tea.

The cold comes as a bit of a shock, making him jump slightly. He stares at his shirt, using his fingertips to pull it away from his body.

The person melts into a series of apologies immediately, offering to dry clean his shirt but Bucky just forces a shake of his head and says it’s okay even though he can feel the sugar making the shirt stick to his chest. Goose feathers and iced tea. Was there anything else that would like to attach itself to him?

His fists clench and his teeth grit and he has to physically control himself from sprinting to your lair because God knows what else is in store for him and he didn't want to add in any way.

The door to the lair is locked. Fuckin’ brilliant.

When no one answers after minutes worth of waiting, he fishes for his phone and realises that maybe two hours of Fruit Ninja was not the best idea, especially on a phone known for having shitty battery life.

There’s roughly 2 percent left. By the time he opens his app to give you a call, his phone screen goes black.

He groans. He’s desperate at this point and under any other normal circumstances, he would have never, ever considered doing this.

But ten minutes later he’s outside your apartment building. You’re aware that he has your address; no doubt that it was in the SHIELD file he had gotten, and he knows that you know but it was still weird.

The buzzer has your last name listed next to it. He’s sure that he’ll break it if he keeps pressing it at this rate but he really needs you to let him in.

“Who the fu-” your voice comes through the intercom.

“I’m sorry for showing up like this, my phone died and I couldn’t reach you,” He breathes out as soon as he hears you. “But I need you to fix this.”

When he doesn’t hear a reply, he wonders if the thing actually worked. He’s about to start pressing it again-

“Bucky?” You sound a little surprised to hear him. “You’re at my house. Why are you at my house?”

“I need you to fix whatever this is.”

“What are you- fine, I’m buzzing you in,” your voice, initially confused soon trails off into something more dismissive.

There’s a soft click from the door, allowing him to push it open. The elevator is already on the same floor as him so he just uses that.

The elevator goes up a floor or two. His feet tap restlessly against the carpeted floor.

The lights turn off and everything comes to a standstill. His foot stops tapping.

He should have known. He should have fucking known.

Thirty seconds pass. He’s still in pitch darkness with the elevator showing no signs of moving.

In fact, he’s resigned to his fate. He sits down on the ground, only one step away from completely laying down and hoping someone finds his body here someday.

It’s six minutes of plain silence. He might as well get comfortable if he’s going to get stuck here for the rest of his life. Did he change his will? Does he even have a will?

There’s finally a whir. He thinks that maybe he’s going to plummet to his doom as the perfect end to this day, but then the light switches on and it starts moving upward.

It stops at the floor with a ding. He doesn’t get off the ground, only eyes the door wearily. With his luck, it wouldn’t open.

But it does and within a second he’s on his feet, scrambling to get out before it changes its mind.

He remembers your door number, basically charging down the hall to get to it.

The door is white and the paint is starting to chip off it. The handle itself is dented in a few places and he wonders if it was your fault or someone else's.

His knocks are rapid, agitated even. He doesn’t stop until he hears your loud shouts telling him to cut it out.

“What the hell were you doing, trying to break down my door?” It swings open, revealing you in your pajamas. “Haven’t you done that already? And where were you, I’ve been waiting for like, ten minutes.”

He honestly feels bad for showing up uninvited and highly flustered. He can’t imagine it’s a pretty sight either. "This bad luck shit- fix it. My whole day’s been fucked up.”

“What are you-” Your eyebrows knit together in confusion, taking in his appearance.

It takes you a second to realise what he’s talking about but when you do, your face settles.

“How was your date?” You lean against the door frame, arms crossed over your chest.

“Really,” He glowered at you, “that’s what you care about?”

“Yes.” You nod. “Did you have fun?”

He hesitates. “I guess?”

“Was she nice?”

“Yeah.” Where was this going.

“Good, I’m happy for you.” The smile on your face is genuine. “Look at you go, Casanova.”

“We agreed to be just friends, but that’s not the point here. Y/N,” he whines. “I have a mission next week, I can’t afford to fuck up. My whole day was off and I don’t want it to carry over.”

“Your whole day?” you questioned, standing up instead of leaning against the wall. “Buck-”

“Just fix it.”

“Okay.” You lift your hand up, extending it towards his face.

He waits for you to do something.

You flick him on the forehead.

“There,” you declare, going back to your previous position. “you’re cured.”

What.

He says exactly what he’s thinking.

You laugh. “Dude. I was fucking with you.”

Huh?

“Well, actually maybe just like, three things and then I got bored.”

He’s confused.

“You know,” you begin when he doesn’t reply, “taking the sugar packets, switching your coffee order when you were looking under the table, took your place when you left, the shoelaces.”

“The shoelaces?”

“Yeah.” You nod. “That’s the other ray gun you saw this morning. Unties your shoelaces. I stopped after that because I thought you figured it out.”

His face scrunches in puzzlement.

“I mean, you looked right at me and told me to cut it out.”

He racks his brain about what you could possibly be talking about before it hits him. The hungover person on the goddamn bench in the park.

“You were the one in the hoodie and sunglasses.”

“I just followed the Avengers’ code of disguise.” You shrug. “Turns out it kinda works. Also teleportation. So helpful.”

He forgot about the teleportation. That's why you could do all of it so fast without him noticing you were even there.

“What about the fucking geese?”

You pause for a second. “The geese?”

“And the elevator.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” The confusion on your face is apparent. “What geese and elevator? I have no idea what you’re saying right now.”

“Everything’s been a mess today,” he grumbles. “I don’t know what’s real or not.”

“I swear I had nothing to do with it other than what I mentioned.” There’s indignation on your features that quickly gives way to delight. “Holy shit, did I just accidentally invent portable bad luck?”

“Okay-” his palm finds its way to his forehead in exasperation, “-then what the hell was the smell?”

“What smell- oh, the one from the box?”

He nods briskly.

“Secretions Magnifique.” You snorted. “It’s a perfume. The worst rated one I could find.”

“Perfume?”

“With notes of milk, seaweed and sandalwood.”

“It wasn’t an inator?”

“No, it wasn- did you get vibe checked by a goose at the park?” You stifle a laugh when you notice a stray feather on his thigh.

“What does that even mean?” he asks in despair.

“I can see why it attacked you. You got bad juju.” You raise an eyebrow. “Maybe if you stop staring so much-”

“So I just have shit luck.” Is that a fucking relief or even worse?

“Well,” you begin but decide not to continue.

Even with all the irritability masking it, you could see that he genuinely was just not having a good time.

“Wait here a second.”

You leave him at the door. He shifts his balance and sighs, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. He still had to walk back to the Tower. Maybe he could grab a slice of pizza along the way since he skipped lunch.

“Okay, here.” You return with a large glass of water. He only looks at it. “It’s just water, I promise. You look like you ran a marathon."

He takes it from you sceptically, pushing away the urge to sniff at it. It’s gone within a few gulps.

You wait until he’s finished to point at his arm. He draws his eyebrows together, but you only curl your index finger and beckon for him to give you his hand.

He reluctantly extends it towards you.

“Don’t laugh,” you warn him, taking his metal arm. “This usually helps me.”

You tie a small bracelet around his wrist. It has a few beads, which he realises represent the colours of the solar system.

“Keep that for good luck.” You pat it gently after securing it. “I think you just had a bad day; those don’t last very long. Do you want to charge your phone before you leave?”

“Uh-” The bracelet’s pretty, the colours shine against the dark vibranium. “-no, I’m good. I’ll just leave.”

“Okay. Anything else I can help you with or will you be fine?”

He narrows his eyes. “You’re being suspiciously nice.”

“I’m not evil all the time.” You huff. “My hours are in the morning.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” he says again. “I’m gonna go then.”

“See you next week.” You give him a little wave. “I’d say break a leg on your mission but knowing your situation...”

He scoffs. “Thanks.”

You make a move to close the door when starts walking down the hallway towards the exit.

He adjusts the beads slightly so he can see them better. The Earth one has glitter in it. He thinks it’s cute.

“Bucky.”

He turns around.

There’s a hint of a smile on your face.

“Take the stairs.”

He doesn’t have to be told twice.

Next part

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #mcu fic #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky angst #bucky barnes angst #harmless fic #winter soldier x reader #Winter Soldier #bucky barnes #bucky

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sunfish-studies · 3 years

Text

Let The Games Begin!

✄・・・ Feathery Ink [Karasuno Manager Series]

➜ Pairing: Karasuno x Manager! Reader

➜ Warning: none

➜ Notes: This is a separate series from Crisp Leaves. Similar to Crisp Leaves, manager in this story will be portrayed as a girl. She will be tall. This is just my appreciation towards tall girls, you guys are amazing.

Previous: ‹ Celebration › | Next: ‹ A Simple and Pure Strength ›

↷ SUMMARY ↶

Preliminaries for Interhigh in Miyagi commenced today and Karasuno vowed to blast through and win them all.

“I’m sorry that you have to cheer from above, Hitoka-chan, [Name]-chan,” Shimizu apologized in advance because while she could watch the game on the bench, the two of you could only watch them quite far away. It couldn’t be helped, only one manager was allowed to be on the bench during the game.

“It’s alright, Kiyoko-senpai,” you replied with determination. “In fact, leave the cheering to us! Right, Hitoka-chan?”

“That’s right!” Yachi nodded in agreement.

“Then, we’re counting on you two.” Shimizu smiled at both of your eagerness. While Shimizu called you by your given name, you decided to ask her if it’s okay to call her also by her given name–she instantly agreed, seemed extremely happy even. Since then, you started calling her by her given name still with a suffix.

“H-Hinata, are you okay?” Yachi asked in worry because the said orange-haired boy was holding his stomach and trembling.

“Do you still feel sick?” you also questioned, immediately kneeling and rummaging through your back for medicine. Which made you aware of another trembling figure sitting on the ground. “Y-Yamaguchi-kun, are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Hinata replied. “I threw up on the way here, so I feel better.”

“Of course you’d feel sick after eating all those katsudon for breakfast.” Tsukishima snickered.

“It’s normal to eat katsudon on game days!” Hinata defended himself.

“And by ‘normal’, you mean…” Tsukishima deadpanned.

“You dumbass! Hinata, you stupid dumbass!” as if adding more salt to the wound, Kageyama was there to yell at him–making you almost burst out laughing from the limited insult he had in his vocabulary.

“I-I feel like I’m going to puke too, after remembering Hinata puking…” Yamaguchi pressed a hand upon his mouth, speaking in a very low voice which you almost missed. Both you and Tsukishima immediately snapped your head to face him.

“Huh?” Tsukishima replied in disbelief. “Go to bathroom, already!”

“H-Here’s a plastic bag you could use!” you yelped thrusting the item into his palm. “There’s also a medicine if you want! Don’t hold it, Yamaguchi-kun!”

“I thought you were busy concentrating but you were actually trying not to puke!?” you could hear Sugawara exclaimed and now you could confirm that Azumane was somehow in a similar state as Yamaguchi.

“Do you need medicine, senpai?” you’re instantly kneeling on his side with yet another plastic bag (just for caution), a bottle of warm water, and a small package of medicine. “I also have warm water you could drink!”

“T-thanks, [Name]-chan,” Azumane whispered. “You’re a life-saver.”

Even before the game, your team was in shambles.

Your first game would be against Ohgi Minami High School–you made sure to keep in track of the games and read the whole pamphlet to know about the teams who could be your opponents in the future. The warm-ups were smooth until it was time for the game–the first official game of Karasuno.

“The spring tournament… Karasuno’s battle is about to start…!” You could hear Yachi muttered from right beside you–upon the wall, hung the pure black banner for the team. Just like her, the nerves were getting into you the moment all of them assembled to hear a little bit of advice from Coach Ukai and encouraging speech from Takeda-sensei.

“Oh, so you watch the game too, Ukai-sensei?” the older man beside you questioned, both of you looked to the side and you instantly recognized older man who helped Hinata nailing his control.

“Yeah.”

“Good morning,” you greeted, bowing down which Yachi hastily copied.

“Oh, so you’re the manager,” Coach Ukai also recognized you and didn’t think twice to reply. Although he looked extremely strict (and he does on the court that is), but he’s not an entirely stiff person. And from his history, you put an absolute respect for him.

“Ukai? Grandson?” Yachi tilted her head in confusion.

“He’s the former Coach Ukai,” you explained. “He’s the famous coach who brought Karasuno to nationals and also the current Coach Ukai’s grandfather. The Little Giant was in his team.”

“Hee!?” Yachi yelped.

“[Name]-nee-chan!”

“Yuu-chan! You’re here to watch, too?” Ogasawara Yuu was the little kid who’s watching Hinata and Kageyama practice the day before and before you knew it, the two of you became friends. He didn’t hesitate to ask you questions and you found yourself enjoyed in indulging his curiosity.

“Yeah! Nee-chan, you’re from Karasuno, too, right? What are you doing up here?”

“T-There’s only one manager allowed on the bench. You didn’t know that?” Yachi argued.

“That’s why I’m here too,” you added, pointing to yourself.

“Ooh.”

The game itself was a sight to see–everyone’s moves were full with confidence, they had a full control of their decisions and movements. For example, your captain was waiting for the opponent to do the feint and managed to received it cleanly.

“S-so fast! It’s like he was waiting for it!” Yachi commented.

“It’s because they have been practicing with powerhouse schools with different kinds of power in serves and spikes. The diversity of their opponents from the training and their defenses and high level of it, the team is already used to it.” You pointed out, which made your friend gasped in awe.

As the game continued, you were immersed with the thrill of it. Kageyama successfully pulled off another service ace. Yachi was bouncing giddily from it.

“Nice serve, Kageyama-kun!” you called out. He turned to glance at you and gave you a fist.

“Another service ace!” Yachi cheered.

“Now we’re on set point,” You added, looking at the score board.

The match was going on smoothly for Karasuno, sure there was a little bump but that’s because you felt Ohgi Minami didn’t really give it their all after knowing they would lose–sometimes, people who witnessed someone who’s more skilled than them felt a tug of helplessness. However, not doing your best isn’t acceptable.

Thankfully, they seemed to change and blasted through after their former captain pulled up a speech. Even though they still loss, you knew it would make them even stronger. The frustration would linger and push them into working hard to win.

That’s that and now, you didn’t even have a chance to bask in your victory because another threat was looming.

You peeked over Kageyama’s shoulder, your own shoulder trembled slightly–you didn’t even need to look to know how Hinata and Yachi were both terrified out of their wits from the sight. While waiting for the results, your team watched the on-going match and at the same time witnessing something downright terrifying.

Kakugawa’s #9 basically pushed the ball over the block with ease and it almost send you into an early cardiac arrest. Hinata and Yachi squeaked in fright.

“That’s creepy!” Tanaka commented, words muffled from how he munched on a banana.

“It’s a weapon…” Azumane muttered in disbelief. “His height is a weapon…”

“I think I’m the one who needs the medicine now,” you whispered, feeling your heart threatened to jump out from your throat.

“It’s just height,” Kageyama said, peeling on a banana.

“It’s almost astronomical on how you’re still calm after watching that,” you sighed.

“I guess we know who we’re playing next,” He then continued, chewing on his food. After the match was over, the team had slight break and decided to study the charts. Your next opponent would be Kakugawa High School, who has an absurdly tall member who messes with your depth of perception.

Yachi squeaked in fright when the said tall member walked pass by–clearly towering over everyone with his two meters height.

“T-two meters is super huge,” Hinata stuttered, shoulders trembling.

“201 centimeters and 162 centimeters, huh…” Yamaguchi muttered, looking at the orange-haired boy.

“I’m 163 if you round it up-!” Hinata argued.

“201 centimeters and 162 centimeters, there’s a 40 centimeters difference.” Tsukishima cut him off.

“Listen!”

“F-forty centimeters is the same size as Ketty-chan,” Yachi tried to cheer him up. “It’s not that big.”

“Is that an attempt to cheer him up?” Tsukishima commented.

“It sure is.” You confirmed, smiling nervously.

“Tekachu is also 40 centimeters,” Yamaguchi added.

“So is a Fujikujira,” Tsukishima followed, which made all of you confused.

“F-Fujikujira?” you questioned. “What’s that?”

“It’s a kind of shark.”

“You’re smart, Tsukki!” Yamaguchi praised.

Hinata sluggishly walked–face pale and filled with resignation. “I…want to combine with that shark… If I combined with a Fujikujira, I’d be two meters tall…”

“Hey, what are you talking about?” Kageyama was thoroughly confused with his antics. He rose an eyebrow. “Are you really scared?”

It made Yachi worried but Shimizu was quick to reassure her that it would be fine, half of it was directed to you too. You tried your best not to worry–he sure has height, but Karasuno had strategies. Everything should be alright.

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dean-winchester-is-a-warrior · 2 years

Text

No Regrets

This fic will cover one space on my bingo card for @anyfandomkinkbingo. Since the square itself isn't a kink, I've added face-sitting as the kink.

Any Fandom Kink Square Filled:

Dean x Jo

Pairing: Dean x Jo

Word Count: 2,866

Summary: Jo immediately regrets saying no to Dean's proposal. Is there a chance to change her answer?

Warnings: Smut. Pining. Slight angst. Some sadness at the very end. Unprotected, penetrative sex. Mentions of wet dreams. Light fingering. Oral (BJ/Deep-throating), Face-sitting.

A/N: So, this gif set came along the other day and it gave me the chance to express how wrong I think Jo was to say no to Dean's proposal in 5x10. In my head canon, she regretted it right away and then this happened. 😊

Rating: 18+ Explicit. Read the warnings!

Created for @anyfandomkinkbingo

Beautiful Divider at the bottom created by @talesmaniac89

Jo took a deep breath, not sure she was making the right decision, but she'd been thinking about him all evening.

Who was she kidding? She'd been thinking about him for three years.

It pissed her off that she couldn't get over him, couldn't help but think of him when she was with other guys, couldn't help but compare him to everyone she laid down beside, every pair of lips that touched her was a pale comparison to the mouth that haunted her dreams. Literally.

The number of nights she'd awoken after a shattering orgasm, panties sticky, only to realize it was just her imagination that had her trembling; it was only the thought of his callused palms rough against her skin, his thick fingers inside her, pressing and pulling moans and screams from her.

None of it was real. He'd never touched her like that, never even kissed her, never even really tried.

Until tonight.

Tonight he'd wanted her, tonight he'd all but asked her to crawl into his bed.

And she'd turned him down.

At the time, it had felt like the right choice, she'd been a little insulted that he was only now coming to her, the day before they were going up against the devil. It made her feel like he was just desperate for an easy lay, one last romp before judgement day.

So, she'd said no, told him she was going to keep her self respect. But as soon as she walked away from him, as soon as the opportunity was gone, she realized she'd made a mistake.

As she stood, pressed up next to him, posing for Bobby's picture, his heavy, muscled arm slung across her shoulders she wanted to turn her face up to him and say,

"Screw self-respect, I've been dreaming about you forever - just fuck me."

But she figured the timing probably wasn't right.

She'd listened to Cas' ominous words as the camera shutter clicked and realized she may have truly just passed up her last chance to know what Dean Winchester felt like beneath her hands. What did he taste like? Would he be wild and rough or, slow, smooth, and gentle; she suspected the latter. What would make him lose control? What sounds did he make when he came?

It was these questions that had led her to where she was, standing outside the door of the bedroom he and Sam were occupying. She wasn't quite sure how they were going to get away from Sam, but she figured she'd leave that part to him.

She knocked gently, hoping she wouldn't wake Sam. She was taking that chance by knocking, but it felt wrong to just barge in.

Seconds later the door swung open and Sam's towering frame filled the space.

Dammit! Jo thought to herself.

Sam's hazel eyes were curious and slightly worried. "Hey Jo. Are you okay?"

"Uh, yeah. I'm fine. I just..." she gently banged her fist against the side of her leg trying to think of a plausible reason for her to want to drag Dean out of bed in the middle of the night.

Thankfully Sam seemed to have improved in his ability to read the room. He looked between Jo and Dean, who'd sat up when he heard Jo's voice, cleared his throat, and pushed past Jo into the hallway.

"I'm gonna sleep in the library." He said, grinning as he left.

Jo smiled as she closed the door behind him and leaned back against it.

"Hey." she said lamely.

"Hey back." Dean said, not moving from the side of the bed.

Jo wished he would make a move, stand up, catch her against the door and kiss her senseless. She wasn't very practiced at starting things off. Most guys made the first move on her and she either encouraged them or told them to get lost.

For a moment frustration reared up in her. Was he messing with her, trying to make her work for it because of her earlier rejection?

But then she realized that just wasn't Dean's way.

So, maybe, she thought, shaking her head at herself, he's just honoring your earlier refusal and not being a pig by pushing things.

It would be up to her to make the first move. She decided they didn't have time for subtlety or innuendo. So she walked across the room to stand between his knees. She grabbed hold of his scruffy cheeks and tilted his face up to hers. He was so tall, that even sitting down, her face was only slightly above his.

She looked down at him and felt her stomach clench at the heat in his eyes, the forest green receding as his pupils dilated. She pressed the fingertips of her right hand to his lips, loving the feeling of his warm breath against the pads of her fingers.

She spoke quietly. "I changed my mind; is that okay?"

In response, Dean hooked his fingers in the belt loops of her jeans and pulled her closer as his tongue snaked out and pulled the tip of her forefinger into his mouth, nibbling lightly.

Jo felt her stomach clench again, but this time the feeling was echoed in the tightening of her core muscles. Dean moved his hands down from her waistband over the globes of her ass, squeezing her and lifting her to straddle his lap.

She pushed her fingers through his short hair, gripping his neck tightly as he sealed his lips over her pulse point and sucked, pulling a breathy moan from Jo's lips. God, his mouth was heaven; she knew it would be.

Dean lifted her arms from around his neck and pushed them so they were straight up in the air. His fingers traced down her arms lightly before he pulled her black Misfits t-shirt over her head. When it was off he skimmed his fingertips over the tops of her breasts, where they pushed up from her red, lacy bra.

"Fuck, Jo." He said, his voice hoarse. "Tell me you've got panties to match this." He ran a thumb across her nipple where it hid behind the lace and Jo shivered.

She grinned as she scooted off his lap and pulled down her jeans to reveal a pair of matching, red, lacy boy shorts, with two little bows attached at the top.

She kicked her jeans away and turned her back to him. She peeked over her shoulder to see Dean's reaction to the way the panties cut across her ass, leaving the round, fleshy, bottom of each cheek exposed.

His expression turned almost feral as he reached forward and tore the wispy material to shreds as he ripped it from her body.

Jo gasped, and she felt wetness pool between her legs. But she frowned. "You idiot, Dean, those were my favorite!"

Dean rose suddenly from the bed and pushed her forward until her hands hit the wall and the hard length of his body was pressed tight against her back.

"I'll buy you another pair. Hell, I'll buy you a hundred pairs." He said roughly in her ear.

Through his jeans she could feel his cock, hard, thick, and pressing against her bare ass, and in spite of her minor annoyance at the loss of her favorite sexy lingerie, she pressed back against his erection, rubbing her ass up and down on it.

Dean growled in her ear at the action and pushed her hair off her neck so her could kiss and nibble at her skin there. He pushed her lacy bra cups up, letting her small breasts free. His massive hands cupped them completely, and he pushed them together before letting them bounce free, tweaking both her nipples and eliciting another gasp of pleasure from her.

He pulled her bra all the way off and then plunged his hand down her body, coming to rest against her gently rounded sex. Jo let out an inarticulate sound that was meant to be a plea for him to touch her. Dean either understood what she meant, or more likely was just really good at what he was doing, because he pushed his middle finger through her folds, and circled it gently against her clit.

"Oh god, Dean." She was trying to be quiet, knowing that there was a houseful of people who may be able to hear, but Dean was making discretion almost impossible.

Finally he pulled back from her and spun her around to face him. His expression softened as he looked at her, and he brought his hand up to cup her flushed cheek.

He ran his thumb over her lips before he stepped away from her, allowing his gaze to travel over her naked form.

"God," he breathed, "you have no idea how many nights I've dreamed of you like this, all flushed pink and dripping wet, and mine."

Jo felt herself blush a deeper pink and she fought the urge to cover herself up under the intensity of his gaze.

Instead she walked toward him. "Then why have you never done anything about it?"

Dean shook his head. "Because I'm an idiot."

She reached him and tugged on his shirt to get him to take it off. He obliged and then sucked in a breath as she leaned against him, flicking her tongue against his nipple.

His voice was raspy with need. "Why did you say no earlier?"

Jo shook her head before she sank to her knees and reached for his belt. "Because I'm an idiot."

She pulled his jeans down over his thick, muscular thighs and couldn't help but sink her teeth into one of them, the muscle there offering delicious resistance. She bit only hard enough to leave a light mark, but she saw Dean's stomach muscles tense and his cock jump in response.

Unable to bear the suspense any longer Jo yanked down Dean's boxer briefs, feeling her mouth water at the sight of his dick, long and thick and weeping at the tip.

Fuck, Jo thought, he's just beautiful everywhere.

She wrapped her mouth around him, feeling her lips stretch to accommodate his girth. Her inner walls clenched with the knowledge that soon he'd be stretching her there too, filling her in a way no one ever had.

She felt herself dripping at the thought as she pushed her mouth as far as it would go down his length before his cock hit the back of her throat.

She wrapped her hand around the part of his dick she couldn't reach with her mouth and began bobbing up and down while using her spit and his precum as lube for her hand to grip and pump his cock.

Dean tangled her hair in his hands and pushed into her mouth trying not to push far enough to make her gag. She could feel his restraint and she didn't want it.

Grabbing hold of his ass for stability she slowly slid further down his cock, trying hard to relax her throat and breathe through her nose. She'd never been great at deep throating, but for Dean she wanted to try.

Her eyes watered and saliva dripped down her chin, but it was worth it when Dean let out a choked grunt and threw his head back. She looked up at him as she reached the base of his cock, his soft curly hair tickling her nose.

"Ah, fuck - Jo! I'm gonna cum, you have to stop now." He rasped out.

She didn't want to stop, but she didn't want things to be over yet either, so she pulled back and let him wipe away the tears, spit and precum on her face before he pulled her to her feet.

He laid back on the bed and pulled her with him, so that she was on top of him. She straddled his waist, and he reached between their bodies, sliding his thick fingers through her slick folds, coating them before he brought them to his mouth to lick them clean of her juices.

"Jesus Christ." he moaned. "You taste so sweet. Just like I knew you would. I need more."

He urged Jo forward until her knees were on either side of his head. He turned his face and began to nibble lightly at the very tops of her inner thighs, biting with his sharp teeth and then soothing with his wide tongue.

Jo rocked her hips forward in an effort to get him to stop teasing her and Dean obliged. The first swipe of his tongue through her folds forced Jo stick her fist in her mouth to keep from screaming.

His tongue flicked at her clit before he pressed it flat, and undulated it against her. He sucked her clit in between his perfect lips and Jo bucked her hips forward. Dean let her clit pop out of his mouth, using his tongue to fuck up into her and Jo began to ride his face in earnest.

Dean felt her losing her balance as her orgasm neared and he grabbed her hands to give her leverage, something to hold onto as she rolled her hips over his sinful mouth again and again.

Her climax broke over her and she rocked harder against Dean's face, grateful he had a strong jaw, and hoping to god he could breathe. But Dean never lost pace and his tongue continued to push in and out of her clenching walls in perfect rhythm.

Completely spent, Jo fell back across Dean's body and tried to catch her breath. But Dean wouldn't let her. He sat up and shifted so that she was fully beneath him.

He pushed the sweaty tendrils of hair back off her face as he looked down at her with what she would have sworn was awe, before he allowed his lips to trail down the curve of her shoulder and across her collarbone.

In the midst of the heat and the need, while the fire raged and her body pulsed with electricity, she felt a lump catch in her throat at the perfection of this moment.

It was everything she'd ever dreamed of; the feel of his weight on top of her; the breadth of his shoulders as she clung to him; his woodsy, clean scent mixed with the smell of sex all around them; the way he stared into her eyes as he ran his hands up and down her torso, so tender, so incredibly soft; the way his lips clung to her skin; the way his breath hitched as he finally entered her, slow and long and deep; every moment of it was something out of a dream.

But he was real - he was hard and warm and here.

Every roll of his hips caused her to whine out her ecstasy as he pushed in tight against her walls and dragged back across her g-spot, so that every thrust sent a shockwave of pleasure rushing through her body.

She was so close again, and she felt herself trembling, just needing something to push her over that edge.

Dean leaned close to her ear and with a ragged voice urged her on. "God Jo, your so beautiful when you come apart. Show me again, sweetheart, how perfect you look when you're gasping my name."

The sound of his voice, so raw and full of need, but also so gentle and coaxing was all she needed to fall into the abyss again. As she was flying out of her skin, she felt Dean ram himself home three more times before he exploded inside her and groaned her name against her neck.

Slowly Jo felt herself come back to her body, reveling in the crushing weight of Dean sprawled on top of her. She was slightly disappointed, therefore, when he pushed up on one elbow, so that he could bear some of his weight.

But she quickly got over it when he leaned down and pressed his plump lips against hers, licking up into her mouth like she was a confection. His mouth felt like silk against her own and Jo moaned deeply.

He pulled away and Jo frowned, chasing his lips. He smiled and gave her one more soft peck.

"You know," he said with a chuckle, "that was our first kiss."

Jo looked at him like he was crazy, until she realized he was right. They'd dived right in without sharing any kisses first. She'd been too needy for his hands and too desperate to feel his lips and tongue against her body to give much thought to a kiss.

She grinned up at him. "Well, it might have been our first," she pulled him down and breathed her words against his lips, "but it won't be our last."

And Jo was right. In the night they spent together they had dozens and dozens of kisses and touches and moments of bliss. It would not be their last kiss.

Their last kiss wouldn't come until the next day. As she kissed Dean for the last time, Jo's body was too broken to feel passion in the kiss, but she felt all the love; only love.

Only love and no regrets.

@akshi8278, @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @foxyjwls007, @b3autyfuldisast3r, @myloversgone, @kazsrm67, @fangirlxwrites67, @kickingitwithkirk, @charred-angelwings, @hopefuldreamers-world, @siospins, @deanwanddamons @deandreamernp, @my-sherlock221b, @jensensgotyoudean @lyarr24, @snowlovespie, @stixnstripesworld, @thoughts-and-funnies, @magssteenkamp, @norman1967, @princessmisery666, @mishkatelwarriorgoddess, @deepsketchsupernaturalcowboy

Masterlist Tag Lists

#dean winchester smut #dean x jo #chestervelle #dean winchester #jo harvelle #spn fan fic

110 notes · View notes

bonnymori · 3 years

Text

01 | 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫... 𝐚𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭?!

chapter 01 / chapter 02 / chapter 03

Word count: 1250+

Synopsis: During a particularly boring afternoon, a muscly man with a purple worm around his shoulders has made his way onto your house- literally, smashing through your window- and, subconciously, onto your life.

Contents/Warnings: (1) Fushiguro Toji x gn!Reader, theres also Gojo cat as your cat!! (2) Reader finds Toji's worm cute; i'm sorry if you don't just skip that part (3) There's some cursing but I promise next chapter won't

A/N: I have a lot of drafts and this is the most normal looking I've got... so let's post it first ehehehhsjhd- Also, I'm remaking the structure of the posts (Megumi's one-shot is updated with the very same visual as this!), hope it looks less unorganized! Thank you for reading <3

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To think you'd let such a stranger barge into your apartment- actually, you would never imagine such a comeup. But here are we.

Right in front of you there is a man. Raven locks, black shirt, white baggy pants - is that a purple... gut, intestine thing around his chest? - and a pair of imacculate ballet shoes on his feet. The dude is knocked out cold, it seems that he barely made it through your window, only to come head first against your floor tiles. Now you have drops of blood all over the floor and counter- and, a bleeding man.

You can't tell which task will be more grueling to solve.

Because you have a working brain, of course the man comes first. No matter if your window is broken, and a handfull of glass shards adorn your countertops. And now you've accidentally stepped upon one- just then you realise the man's back must be feeling like a bed of thors- or shards, over being dragged through the floor.

So you throw his arms - which you notice, has a few cuts here and there - over your shoulders, and picks him up in a one-person carry; barely, his torso is against yours and legs are dangling on the floor, this guy must weigh the double you do. It feels like you're carrying a fridge.

From your peripheral, you can see Satoru paddle to the kitchen's doorframe, probably wondering if you were preparing a meal for him or whatever.

"I'll be back in a moment, Ru." He meows a reply, dragging his mountain of fluff back to your couch- you're certain he's taking your spot, while it's still warm.

Thankfully, it doesn't take long for you to reach the bathroom, dropping the man leisurely upon your fluffy mat. Beside all the cuts, the man has already a plentiful share of permanent scars, and none are of your business, you don't care. It's like cleaning and stitching up a old doll full of tears, by the way you're able to maneuver his limbs; you're glad he's still unconscious.

But the thing around his shoulders is not.

In a blink of eye, it jumps from his shoulder to yours, attaching itself to your back and nestling upon your shoulder. When you glance down at it, it feels like a weird looking parrot.

"Hi?" You ask, it looks back at you. "Are you like, his pet or something?" It doesn't talk, just gazes at you through half lidded eyes; so you give up on short talking it, not knowing what you expected yourself. "Let's go finish my movie then!"

You join Satoru on the couch, the cat rapidly making room on your comfortable lap; and the man forgotten, snoring soundly on your bathroom.

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A sequel and half movie later, you hear a loud thud coming from the kitchen. Even though you're aware there's a strange in your house- the sudden sound still naturaly jolts you out of your seat.

"UGH- Goddamn it-" Next comes a colorful list of slurs; a sigh makes way out of your mouth.

You round the corner, pointing a accusing finger to the strange man, who's laying on your floor again. "No cussing on my house."

"Why didn't you even clean this floor, it's loaded with glass shards."

"I wanted to finish my movie afternoon before doing so. Besides, what made you smash through there," You point to the ruined window. "to here." Then, to the kitchen floor. And finally, motioning to your whole apartment.

That was a interesting question, he expected a "Who are you?" or "I'm calling the cops!" call.

"I don't need to explain you shit."

"Think of it as an retribution, since I patched you up, answer my question."

"No."

"That, or you'll pay for my window."

A sigh. "Fine. I was being chased."

"You're a criminal, then?" You questioned.

"Yes." A devilish grin made its way to his face, showing canines and stretching the small scar on the corner of his mouth.

"Alright, just don't get me involved then."

Toji is familiar to that sort of outcome. Sometimes people man up, people weaker than him. But he knows he's intimidating, and he absolutely loves to play with the attitude of those who challenge him.

Forgetting the shart carving on the sole of his feet, he walks up to you efortlessly, towering over your frame.

"Well, are you not scared to have a criminal inside your house?"

"No, I'm not defenseless. And, you're bleeding. Again."

"Shit." Toji sits down close to the wall where it's safe, twisting his leg to bring the injured foot up to his face. He easily plucks the reddened shart between thick digits, and throws it far away from him.

Meanwhile, you bring your first-aid kit up to him, setting it down near.

"Here, use this."

"..."

"I'll do it for you then." You wasted no time, reaching for the line and thread. Once everything was stitched, you wrap a bandage around his foot, then pats it finished. "What's your name?"

"Fushiguro Toji."

"I'm L/N Y/N, lost all your bite huh?" You tease.

Casually ignored. "Why do you have a first-aid kit? Most people don't have it on their houses."

"I practice muay thai, it's useful both for me and you."

"Right. Have you seen my worm?"

"Well, make yourself at home, until your feet gets better. And yeah, your worm jumped at me like those surprise music boxes, and now it's on the couch with my cat. It's been watching movies with us."

He was beyond curious, because the worm didn't have a thinking mind nor knew what even meant to watch something. Toji limped to the doorframe, eyes widening once he spotted the worm wrapped snuggly around your very fluffy cat.

"That's some cute shit."

"The worm is gross."

"I think it looks cute."

"You're batshit crazy."

You stretched your limbs. "Whatever, let's waste some more time watching TV."

Toji sat down - mind you, taking a handful of space you were not content with - once you picked up "both" animals to make room. He thinks you're weird, seeing the fact you didn't question what the hell was that giant-purple-moving worm, and for letting in a random guy inside your house. You do fight a martial art, though, but most people wouldn't have such confidence on him - a dude build like a truck.

There's some survival show playing in the background, yet he's beyond bored watching it, so he settles in questioning your questionable manners.

"How are you so chill about everything?"

"Oh well," You seemed focused on the show, surprisement showing itself once you turn to him. "I see these things in a daily basis, so it's really no big deal after a while."

"Curses?"

"Yep."

"You-"

"I'm going to clean the kitchen. Also, I ask you once the skies darken, to leave my house."

"..."

"Is there a problem?"

"I got no hideout out there."

"Suuure you don't." You sighed. "Alright, the couch is your best option; if I hear rumbles at night, or if you steal me or something, I'll be the one chasing you."

"Right, have fun cleaning the blood stained kitchen."

"The audacity." You left with a smirk, shaking your head.

Although you're weird, so far, you're also the most interesting individual Toji has come up to par with; something in this house prickles at his skin to stay. Plus, the fluffy cat laying on his lap is very cute aswell.

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#toji fushiguro x reader #toji x reader #toji x you #fushiguro toji #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fanfic

156 notes · View notes

existslikepristin · 3 years

Text

Impromptu Review

Thanks for editing this one goes to momirene and Worldsover, and for helpful beta reading feedback from them and one dork who wants to remain anonymous.

Tags: TheLounge, Red Velvet, SNSD (Girl's Generation), Joy, Sunny, loneliness, potential traumatization of cats, a hoard of hell-themed sex toys, a strap on, a butt plug with Jiu's face in it, and bisexual problems.

The front door of Sunny’s apartment swung open so fast that Joy felt a breeze from the vacuum it left behind.

“Joy! You’re here!”

Joy blinked. “Yeah, I said I would come over.”

“It’s been so long since we’ve met up! Come in, come in!”

“It’s only been like a month though.”

Sunny grabbed Joy’s hands and pulled her through the doorway. “It feels like so much longer than that!”

Joy smiled and took her shoes off in the entryway. “You seem more excited than usual.”

“What? How so?”

“Well for one,” Joy said, pointing at the kitchen, “It looks like you prepared for a whole party in here.”

The kitchen’s island was covered in plates of snacks and several variations of alcoholic beverages. Additionally, Sunny was noticeably sweaty, like she had just run around the house preparing for guests. Joy figured it would be best not to bring that up.

“What? No. That? That’s… yeah, that’s a lot of food, isn’t it?” Sunny’s posture drooped, as if she’d already expended all of her energy on her greeting.

Joy pulled her into a side hug. Her height served to straighten Sunny back up. “What’s going on, girl?”

Sunny sighed and leaned her head on Joy’s chest. “I dunno. I’m just excited. Haven’t had a good social night any time recently.”

“Aw! But what about these cutie kitties?”

Sogeum popped her head out from behind the wall and gave Joy her signature droopy, grim stare without so much as a meow. As soon as Joy shuffled in her direction though, she turned and went back into the living room.

“Well, you know. Can’t really have a real conversation with the cats.”

Joy hummed her agreement and stepped into the kitchen. “I’m always happy to talk to you Sunny. They don’t call SM a family for nothing.”

Sunny groaned, loudly.

“Um. Okay,” Joy said when Sunny didn’t elaborate. “Not a family? Just a bunch of really close friends?”

“Yeah, that’ll work better. Not a fan of the family motif.”

Joy picked up a cracker and chomped down. “Gonna… explain? Family is normally a positive thing, isn’t it?”

Sunny grabbed a bottle of wine and yanked the cork out. “Yeah, totally, for sure. Hey, do you like Chardonnay?”

“I…” Joy didn’t want to skirt around whatever issue Sunny was having, but was well-aware of her stubbornness. “I sure do.”

As fancy glasses of white wine were generously poured, Joy made note of Sunny’s slow, unsteady movements. She worried that perhaps Sunny had already started drinking, or wasn’t getting enough sleep.

* * *

“Can you believe that, Joy?”

“No way. It’s just inhuman.”

“Completely! It’s not like green onions are suddenly more expensive to dry out!”

The conversation had started with gossip and cheese snacking when the sun was high. As the sun set, the discussion shifted to the price of instant meals, and the snack plates were all but empty. Joy had to fight the constant urge to fall asleep, as the topics were never much more interesting than that. But she let Sunny lead the talking as much as possible.

Joy was simply relieved that Sunny called her over before diving into her liquor storage. “You should start a petition to regulate the price. I’d be the first to sign it.”

Sunny’s tipsy grin matched Joy’s. Though the alcohol consumption had been slow-going, they had been doing it for several hours. “Oh that would be great press. ‘Washed up idol upset with ramen manufacturers.’”

With an exaggerated roll of the eyes, Joy pointed at a set of boxes in the corner of the living room, currently being used as a lookout tower by Sogeum. “You’re not washed up yet. Look at all of those sponsor gifts. Those weren’t here last time I came over… Wait, they weren’t, were they?”

Sunny giggled. “No, they’re, uh… new.”

Their corporate sponsors weren’t something that Joy, Sunny, or any of the other SM idols discussed often. There were usually so many vying for their attention that it was pointless trying to keep track. But Joy reasoned, somewhat drunkenly, that talking about it might be therapeutic to someone so down on their social status. “Who are they from, anyway?”

A blush deepened the red of Sunny’s already tipsy-glowing cheeks. “Uh… Nobody. Just a regular sponsor, ya know?”

Joy grinned. “Oh, come on. You can tell me. What am I gonna do? Call a press conference to tell the tabloids who’s contributing to your paycheck?”

Sunny rolled her eyes. She shot off the couch, spilling a drop or two of her wine in the process. From Joy’s naturally higher perspective, Sunny didn’t seem that much taller. “Fine,” she said, wobbling, “but you better not make fun of me.”

“I’ll make fun of you for other reasons, like how much I love you, bitch!” Joy blinked at her own shouting. She didn’t know when the alcohol had hit her, but she was beginning to think that she was a little more intoxicated than she previously thought.

Thankfully, the joviality in her voice seemed to encourage Sunny to play along. She set her wine on the coffee table and picked one of the smaller boxes off of the pile. “Disclosure first! We haven’t agreed to any deals yet. They sent me this stuff to try to convince me to shill it. I didn’t reach out to them.”

Joy waved the disclosure off like a mosquito, but Sunny still tossed the box in her direction. The weight inside of it was awkwardly distributed. Joy attempted to catch it, but it wound up ricocheting off the tips of her fingers and nearly knocking over an open, mostly full bottle of soju.

“The fuck is in this thing?”

“I’ve got some ideas but I just know who it’s from. Open it and find out.”

Joy tore into the box with no regard for the care that went into the packaging, which itself was surprisingly discreet. A smirk cracked her lips when she thought about what sorts of deliveries required such discretion. But the smirk faded right away when she got a view of the inside and realized that the packager apparently had the same idea.

Inside was a pair of plastic sheets wrapped asymmetrically around a roughly water bottle sized blob of blood red silicone. A small bit of pink cardboard advertised it as a five-speed, rotation-simulating, self-cleaning, pattern-switching, USB-charging, automatically-lubricating, remote-controlled vibrator with a speaker at the bottom for replicating a set of desired moans and a specialized charging dock.

Joy cleared her throat and stared at the horrifically fancy dildo, and its label, “Dante’s Dive,” unsure if she should toss it back to Sunny, considering it was clearly a personal item.

Sunny reached into what was left of the box, procuring a pretty little decorated card. “Dear Ms. Lee, we at Second Ring Inc were very pleased to hear your impromptu review of our products on a recent episode of ‘Welp, I Guess We’re Talking About This Now’ and wished to send you some additional items to show our appreciation. These are in no way a request for further public review,” Sunny was briefly interrupted by Joy’s disapproving snort, “but should you be interested in a partnership, we have included a phone number at which I, the chief executive officer, Lee Youngjoon, may be reached. Optionally, my username--”

Joy missed a few words as she was shocked by the extreme sound emitted by the vibrator when she pushed a button on the remote control.

“--is ‘worldsover’. As you know, Second Ring specializes in sexual wellness products, of which we’ve sent you a wide variety. They can be enjoyed by couples, or can serve as a fantastic outlet for power singles like yourself…”

Sunny trailed off. Joy was afraid she knew what was coming. “Damn, Sunny. You say so much as three words on national television and they scramble to get right up on your ass, eh?”

It was too late. Sunny was already tipping up the bottom of the soju bottle. A few drops spluttered back out of her mouth as Joy pushed it back down. “Sunny! You’ve said it yourself! You don’t want to get married!”

“Doesn’t mean I’m not still lonely!”

Joy wrapped her arms around Sunny. “You’ve got me. And a million other friends!”

“Fans don’t count.” Sunny’s voice was partially muffled by Joy’s shoulder.

“Ouch. Time for me to delete my Sone club membership. But fine. A hundred other friends. It’s not just me. It’s my members. Your members. And plenty of others. All of NCT would be--Okay, nevermind. Aespa though! They love you too.”

“But I don't want to inconvenience you." Sunny ended so matter-of-factly that Joy had to pause to process the short conversation.

"You know how… You know how you take a road trip, and there's a road block, or really bad construction, and you have to take a detour?"

"Yeah. I'm a detour."

"Come on, Sunny. What you are is the scenic route!”

There was a long silence.

“Was that the end of the metaphor?” Sunny eventually asked.

“I am very drunk.”

“You’re not that drunk.”

“Drunk enough to be shit at metaphors.”

“It’s…” Sunny extricated herself from Joy’s hug. “It’s okay. I think I know what you’re getting at, and I appreciate it. It’s just that a few words don’t really fix a brain, you know?”

Joy nodded slowly, watching as Sogeum casually stalked across the room. “Yup. But believe me. I’m here for you, at least. So if you need a friend, or some company, I’m at the top of your list.”

The cat plopped herself on the floor, right up against Sunny’s leg. Joy giggled. “Fuck off, kitty. I just said I was the top.”

It seemed the topic of conversation was ready to change. Sunny smiled, and it was enough to indicate her understanding.

“So!” Joy moved things along. “A pile of free, top of the line sex toys in your living room. What’s a young woman to do about that?”

Sunny snorted. “Well I’m not going to masturbate while I have company over, that’s for sure.” She grabbed another box from the pile and handed it over, doing her best not to disturb Sogeum’s new resting place.

The new box took mere seconds to open, this time revealing a black silicone butt plug with a red gem in the base. The casing suggested that a picture could be inserted beneath the gem, and it appeared there was one already there as an example. Joy had to flip it around to a variety of angles before she could make out that it contained a headshot of Dreamcatcher’s Jiu making finger hearts on her cheeks. She cocked her head, wondering if the image had actually been authorized.

Another box swapped between the womens’ hands. It took Joy a little longer to open than the last, but it turned out to be that way for a good reason, given that it was gently holding some fragile cargo: A red-tinted glass bottle of lube, labeled as “Juice from the Fruit of The Tree.” The lengthy product title had a snake winding through the letters.

“Well now they’re just really doubling down on this theme, aren’t they?” Sunny asked as she worked out how to open the next package, using her bottle opener as a makeshift knife.

Joy laughed and picked up yet another, now eager to see what kind of wild object it would contain. “Yeah, they really are! No lie, they’re starting to give me some ideas. Talk about sinful.”

“‘Oh I know,’” Sunny mocked the company, as SM artists often did, fingers still struggling to find their way under the first cardboard flap. “‘Let’s send Sunny a whole pile of sex junk. Bet she’s sinful enough to use it all.’ Like, come on Love-eye, or whatever your name is. What’s a single woman gonna do with all this? Hold up a pillow fort?”

“Hey, maybe he doesn’t know you’re single. Maybe there’s some stuff in here that takes two to tangle with… Fuck. Choerry’s got me using alliterations.”

Sunny barely managed to get her fingers inside the box, but her knuckles were turning white from the tightness of it. It seemed that she had left a portion of the packing tape uncut. “I said I was single on the show, though. I don’t think there will be any couples’ toys in here.”

“Oooh, I’m gonna make it a bet now.” Joy smirked. Her next sentence bypassed her verbal filter through the holes left in it by the alcohol. “If you get that thing open and there’s a strap on inside, you have to fuck me with it!”

A jerk of her arms snapped the remainder of the packing tape. Sunny chuckled. “You’re on. There’s no way it is.”

Joy had to admit that Sunny had a point, considering how small the package was. Surely it couldn’t fit a series of leather straps, or a dildo any larger than a couple of inches in any direction. The little voice in the back of her mind that told her making such an offer was stupid quieted down somewhat.

There was a moment of quiet. Sogeum rolled away from Sunny and made her way to the kitchen. Joy picked up another box, confident that she hadn’t just placed herself in an awkward situation. Sunny shook her head, amused. And then…

“J-Joy?”

Joy looked back, but wasn’t quite sure what she was looking at. It was a sort of mass of black string with some silver discs hanging off of it. Another piece of pink paper fluttered to the floor, where Joy picked it up and read aloud.

“‘The Obol.’ As Charon ferried Dante across the Styx and into the hole that is Hell, so too shall this state-of-the-art magnetic harness ferry our exclusive Dante’s Dive dildo into your… partner’s hole…”

There was more to be read, but both women seemed to get the point. The only sound in the room came from Sogeum chomping through some hard cat food in the kitchen. Slowly, their eyes raised and met. They both spoke at the same moment.

“That was a bet’s a joke bet right?”

Their drunken minds needed a moment to detangle their words into distinct sentences. Sunny’s “That was a joke, right?” and Joy’s “A bet’s a bet.”

Sunny started again first. “You know, we don’t have to.”

“I will if you want to.”

Every sentence being exchanged was followed by a palpable stillness. Joy’s heart beat loudly in her own ears, and she swore she could hear Sunny’s too.

“Do you… want to fuck me with that, Sunny?”

Sunny answered instantly. “Yup.”

There was a flurry of action, though it was slowed here and there by a tipsy stumble or two. Sunny gathered up an armful of the items on her coffee table, both sex toys and the bottle of soju, and sprinted for the bedroom. Joy rushed after her, messily attempting and failing to remove some of her clothes on the way.

Sogeum was spooked by the sudden kerfuffle and fled out of sight.

The bedroom was no less hectic. Sunny dropped everything on the bed except the soju, which she took one more swig of directly from the bottle before setting it dangerously close to the edge of her desk. She wiggled out of her shirt and bra, which attracted Joy’s attention instantly.

Joy struck at Sunny’s cleavage, wrapping her fingers as far as they could go around the legendary orbs, and her lips around one of the budding tips. Their differences in height made it awkward, but they very soon found their way to a horizontal state that eased that tension. Unfortunately, it was not on the bed, but on the floor, but they weren’t about to let something like that stop them.

What clothes they were still wearing exploded off their bodies. Joy’s shorts and shirt, Sunny’s pants and socks. All of it ended up in different sections of the room, thrown under and over furniture.

Joy was no stranger to encounters like this, and neither was Sunny. They had shared countless stories with each other… and some spit. But neither had considered their prior make out sessions to be precursors to explicitly sexual action. For her part, however, Joy considered this one differently, and Sunny’s hands searching half-blindly for Joy’s ass confirmed to her that Sunny thought the same.

Backs arched. Legs ground against one another. Open mouths met, trading the alcoholic scents that the women no longer cared to distinguish. Their minds had devoted themselves entirely to the search for physical pleasure.

A lot of exploratory prodding led Sunny’s fingers to the entrance to Joy’s pussy, failing to notice the number of pokes that ended up at Joy's exit. She took some time familiarizing herself with the drenched outer folds.

Joy, however, noticed the poking at her ass. Her mind swam with serotonin, thoughts of other people, and alcoholic fumes that seemed to rearrange the letters of her thoughts into nonsense. Or possibly into inspiration.

Inspiration relevant to the happenings at the prior year's award shows, that is.

Joy tried to pull back the moment Sunny’s fingers dipped inside her. She had opened her mouth to speak but instead groaned and arched herself further into Sunny’s grip on her sanity. "S-Sunny. B-bed."

At least that message was received loud and clear. Sunny dragged her fingers against Joy’s G-spot as she, disappointingly, pulled them out, nearly causing Joy to scream. The same fingers plunged into Joy’s mouth and quieted her as she diligently sucked her own juices from them.

The action transferred to the bed. Fingers immediately found their places again, and Joy bounced on her back in time with Sunny’s brutal shoves. Packaging bounced all around them. It was like a desperate, distracted game of Vegetable Shinobi for Joy, swiping at the jumping dildo. Sunny’s fingers were divine, eye-wateringly so, but Joy wanted something unholy.

Sunny muttered Joy’s name, catching her attention again. She lifted her head to meet for yet another imprecise kiss. Their legs twisted around each other. Joy could hear the desperation in Sunny’s moans, vibrating all the way down her throat, burning like the alcohol. She snaked a hand between them and found Sunny’s clit.

The moans freed themselves as Sunny bucked backward, almost out of Joy’s longer reach. Joy noted the exceptional reaction, and flipped Sunny onto her back, following immediately and putting herself in the position of power Sunny had initiated.

“You’re gonna fuck me with the strap on… right, Sunny?”

Sunny’s eyes widened, and she grabbed the toys.

“No, not yet,” Joy stalled in her most seductive voice. She slid down, nearly falling off the bed, and wrenched Sunny’s legs wide open with her elbows.

Sunny clenched her fingers around the hell-themed dildo for dear life. Joy’s name poured through her lips over and over again as Joy’s lips poured over her pussy.

Joy had to fight Sunny’s strength to keep her spread thighs from clamping around her head. She wanted to keep hearing her senior beg, loud and clear. To that end, she dug in her tongue, unable to penetrate far, but far enough to open Sunny up and feel the wetness flow into her mouth.

“Please… Joy… I’m close… Joy, please! Joy, don’t stop!”

The thought flitted through Joy’s head, that perhaps denying Sunny her orgasm would be fun, but something about the way she said it made Joy wonder if Sunny’s neediness was rooted in her loneliness, more than in her desire to get off. She shifted herself to wrap her arms under Sunny’s legs and pulled. It wasn’t possible for them to be any physically closer than they were, but she wanted to make it feel like they could be.

Sunny’s voice cracked, choked, and broke into a scream. Joy winced as her tongue was squeezed uncomfortably, but she wasn’t about to stop. The back arches, hair grasping, and pained gasps that followed were worth it.

Joy kept it up until Sunny’s body fell back down and her muscles relaxed. Only then, she removed herself to ask, “Need a break before my turn?”

A smile crept up Sunny’s mouth. Her fingers tightened around the dildo she still had in her hand. “Get… back down here.”

If there was any benefit Joy appreciated most about idol training, it was recovery speed, and Sunny still had it. Joy picked up the strap, quickly figuring out how it was supposed to fit and sliding it up Sunny’s legs. The motion doubled as her approach for another make out.

Of course, Joy was still immensely horny. Her interest in making out with Sunny was overshadowed by her desire to get fucked savagely, but she had the wherewithal to hold out, to let it happen naturally. She was always good at letting others take the lead. Whether they led from the top or from the bottom didn’t especially matter to her.

The alcohol made her more impatient than usual though. She forced herself to wait for the five-speed pounding she’d get, but she ground herself against Sunny’s leg in the meantime. Thankfully she didn’t have to wait long. Sunny threw her to the side and attached the vibrator to the unusual strap with very little trouble. Joy fingered herself as she watched.

“Fuck, yes, Sunny. This is going to be so goo--”

Sunny practically tackled Joy. Their lips collided again, strap hovering somewhere between Joy’s legs, but not close enough for her to feel it.

The moment she did, though, Joy grabbed Sunny’s ass and pulled. The lack of accuracy was made up for by the inhuman amount of lubrication present; both Joy’s and the curious synthetic compound that the dildo exuded seemingly of its own volition.

It was almost too much for Joy. The dildo was certainly longer than any she had used before, and bottoming out at full speed meant it hit her rather painfully in the cervix. She hissed, but otherwise just readjusted her legs in Sunny’s way to prevent the same thing from happening so easily again.

The strap held the dildo in place on Sunny’s body well. Despite its genuinely small frame, it seemed to prevent all wiggling. Every one of Sunny’s movements, including the less delicate, more intoxicated ones, translated to sensations that felt to Joy like a biologically attached dick, albeit with a plethora of extra features.

"You're so pretty, Joy," Sunny said. Even though she was doing all the work now, she wasn't nearly as winded as before. Knowing she’d affected Sunny made Joy grin into another kiss.

“No you,” Joy said with a smirk. She knew this would be good, but she truly underestimated how great it would be to see Sunny’s famous tits jiggling with the effort of fucking her. The sheen of sweat covering them would ensure the night wouldn’t be forgotten, even if Joy had another drink or two.

Joy’s first orgasm struck quickly and unexpectedly. Her breath stopped and a shudder spiked through her body from her core to the tips of her toes and fingers and head. The ability to think normally left her for a brief moment. She only kept the fleeting question of whether or not Sunny was able to feel Joy’s climax. Stars popped in and out of existence, obscuring Joy’s view of Sunny’s fantastic body.

It all faded relatively soon after, but it wasn’t enough for Joy. As soon as her lungs refilled, she screamed, “More! Sunny! Fuck me! Fuck me! Oh god!” She was practically numb everywhere, except for every square inch of her that the dildo rubbed, slid, and vibrated against. Her arms and legs wrapped around Sunny on their own.

Joy, eyes half closed, barely registered when Sunny slowed down to grab and open the extra package. She did, however, notice the sudden prodding feeling at her asshole.

“Sun--”

She couldn’t even finish Sunny’s name before something slipped its way into her butt. Her vision cleared up enough to see that even while she continued thrusting, Sunny had one hand tucked between them, and it was the source of the extra intrusion.

A couple more thrusts though, and Joy was lost to the pleasure again. She started to pant instead of scream or moan, or perhaps she was whimpering, or speaking fluent Polish. Joy couldn’t have said one way or the other. Another orgasm hit. And another. And another. She knew some time was passing between each one, but whether it was seconds or days between no longer mattered. Her mind was fading out of existence.

Until, that is, it wasn’t.

With seemingly no provocation, Joy suddenly remembered Cheungae. She had been meaning to talk to Sunny about him before they had gotten drunk. Her mind wandered, far, far more than it normally would during such intense sex.

Cheungae had taken her out several times since their first, less-than-professional meeting at the MAMAs with Wheein. Even though Joy knew he was struggling financially, he always insisted on paying for coffee, but would give up if he saw the bill when Joy took him to some of the much higher end restaurants.

He was always so polite, genuine, and humble. He didn’t even question when Joy told him they couldn’t be in a relationship, but instead insisted that they could be friends. Joy wondered if it was fair to him that she was treating him as a boyfriend in every way but name while she was still having a grand old time fucking everyone else in the industry. Cheungae knew about it, but wasn’t part of it.

And yet, sex with Cheungae made Joy feel good. Great, even. She could recreate the sensations in her mind for days afterward. His slim, toned figure hovering over her, his face contorted beautifully in adorable agony, his admittedly mediocre cock managing to hit her just right with every move. She couldn’t stop picturing him.

Another orgasm smashed through Joy’s illusion. The mental image of perfectly human Cheungae was instantly replaced with the very physical image of god-like Sunny. As tended to happen, Joy held her breath as the climax coursed through her. Her muscles contracted until she was holding Sunny in a deathly grip.

“F-fuck. Sunn-ny. Slow… slow down.”

It seemed that the request was desperately needed by both lovers, because rather than simply slow down, Sunny fell over. Joy’s pussy immediately craved to be filled again, but she knew she needed to clear her head. And besides that, she still had an odd full sensation. When her muscles relaxed enough for her to move of her own volition, she reached beneath herself and recoiled again at the feeling of a drenched butt plug. Her fingertips carried a puddle of mixed cum and lube back up.

“I’m sorry… Joy… I think that’s all I have left in me,” Sunny said between gasps.

Joy made note of her own throat and how dry it was. Whatever sound she was making while she borderline hallucinated, she’d be regretting it for a while. “All good. I was losing my sanity. That was unbelievable.”

Sunny giggled. It sounded painful. “The vibrator… or the surprise plug?”

Joy giggled back. “The plug was definitely a surprise. Was that the one with Jiu's face in it?”

“Mhm.”

“Cool,” Joy sat up, her head swimming in the aftermath. “But I just think it was you using the stuff that made it so good.”

Sunny seemed invigorated by the compliments. She smiled and reached under the bed, making some noise and bringing up a bottle of water. The two of them swapped it back and forth until it was empty and then collapsed into one another, idly feeling each others' bodies up the whole time.

“Does that mean you’re up for another… night like this? Or day?” Sunny asked as she fondled Joy’s tits. It sounded like she had sobered up, at least most of the way. Joy was too afraid of what she would see to look at a clock.

“You fucking know it,” Joy responded while she brushed her fingers up and down Sunny’s inner thighs. It was a reflex for her to agree, but she cringed inwardly as soon as she did, realizing how much more sober she had become herself, and how she wished she wasn’t. She was thinking about Cheungae again.

There was a barrage of light kisses all over her face, neck, and chest. Sunny looked far too happy for Joy to feel okay about retracting her statement.

“Maybe not right now though,” Joy said, just in case Sunny was already getting ideas. “We should really get to bed.”

She didn’t hear any arguments. They simply got up, and only long enough to flip up the duvet, flinging all of the remaining sex toys off, and jumped underneath.

It took a minute for Joy to realize she needed to remove the surprise butt plug. It was easy enough, and she ended up tossing it to the floor without looking at it.

Joy wrapped herself around Sunny. She was usually the big spoon, not that it bothered her. Sunny’s bare back felt comfortably hot against her chest and stomach. Cheungae liked being the big spoon too. He’d swap with her all the time…

“Hey, Sunny?”

“Mmm?” Sunny was on the verge of sleep, it seemed.

Joy lowered her voice, barely above a whisper. “Have you ever thought about… Settling down, I guess? Just being with one person?”

She didn’t expect Sunny to have an immense store of wisdom, but she hoped for more than what she got: a snore.

“Good night to you too, Sunny.”

#red velvet smut #snsd smut #girls generation smut #joy #sunny

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