#I think I’ll probably end up throwing it into the mix of the half a dozen shows I’m watching at one time

[fluffyllamas-23]

I’m finally watching “Good Omens” because I keep seeing gif sets and text posts and wanna know what the cool kids are talking about

[jar0fhoney]

PART 1 / PART 2 / PART 3 (NSFW) / PART 4 /

PART FIVE (NSFW)

Warning: Mentions of Pregnancy and virginity. piv.

You started Sunday the same way you always did. Wake up before dawn, start breakfast for you and Ma, stare out the window and think about the list of chores you could never keep up with.

“It’s a beautiful morning!” Your mother shuffled past your open door towards the kitchen, “Are you sure I can’t just handle all the work in the field today? Won’t you want to relax before your friend arrives?”

“Mother, please do not blow this out of proportion.” You scolded her light-heartedly, “I’m just going to do my work as usual, and when he stops by I’ll take a break-”

“My baby is getting courted by a big strong orc~” She sang out to you. You followed her to the kitchen. “How did you know he’s courting me?”

“So he is courting you.” She swayed back and forth in front of the hearth, throwing bits of kindling onto the fire.

“Well- I-”

“Y/n, don’t you remember. When I told you about the family that lived in the neighboring plot. The wife told me so much about how strange orc courting was, especially with her being human, and-”

“You didn’t tell me it was a half-orc family…” 

She turned to you with a devious smirk, “Wouldn’t you like to know about a half-orc family.” “MA!” You grabbed an apple from the table (a bright red one that matched the color of your face) and ran out the door. You weren’t really mad at her, but this entire situation was so out of your comfort zone. The only experience you ever really had with being pursued was desperately avoiding Milo for the past two years.

You glanced at the sundial in the garden. Three hours. You had three hours to try and get some work done in the field and shake off the nerves.

-

The tomatoes were a mess. No wonder, this was a corner of the field that had been sorely neglected this season. The sun was climbing higher, and the heat of its rays were beginning to lick the back of your neck. What time was it anyways?

“SO NICE TO MEET YOU- OH YOU SHOULDN’T HAVE!”

Your mothers voice was loud enough to carry all the way to your little corner in the tomato patch. You shot to your feet, craning your neck to see her enthusiastically fawning over a slightly nervous Khargaad. You could hear him nervously chuckling as the two exchanged words.

Well, might as well go save him. You looked down at your work clothes covered in grass stains and mud. Hair was sticking to the back of your sweaty neck. Gross. Probably didn’t smell pretty either.

Your mother caught you out of the corner of her eye and pointed excitedly, “THERE SHE IS!”

You cringed. Gods she was making all this fuss and you looked like you just crawled out of a ditch.

“Hello! I see you met Ma.” You were trying to casually wipe the mix of dirt and sweat from your face, wading over to them through the field. He felt his heart skip a bit when you got closer. You smelled so earthy. And the musk of your sweat was… it could drive him feral.

He started imagining all the ways he could steal you away and worship you. Fill you. Taste you.

“Um… Khargaad?”

He jolted out of his sinful haze, “I couldn’t show up empty handed.” He thrust a basket into your arms. It was laden with fancy imported fruits. “This- This is too much. This must have cost-”

“Hush now,” his voice was like warm honey, “I hunt big game, I can afford it.” He had a cocky little smirk on his face. You thanked him, motioning to follow you into the cottage.

He looked back at your mom one more time, “It was so nice to meet you, Ma’am.”

-

Your first lessons together went just as well as predicted. By the end he was properly frustrated, arms crossed and everything.

“The letters. It doesn’t make any sense. It’s all… mixed up.”

“Let’s just end it here for today.”

He was so cute like this. All flustered. 

He stood up from his seat, being careful to crouch as he easily exceeded the height of the ceiling. “Alrighty, let’s get to work.” He crossed the room in one long stride, pulling his shirt over his head. He looked strong, but not in the way statues are with their lean bodies and taught chiseled muscles. He looked like a man who ate well and worked hard. Your eyes wandered to the slight love handles that peaked over the waistband of his trousers. Gods you were no better than a man, thinking about how bad you wanted to feel him in your hands.

He glanced behind his shoulder, “Where first?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Khargaad.”

“Do you think I’m going to just leave with all this work to be done?”

-

He followed you like an excited puppy to the tomato patch you had been working on. You had tried to tell him that he didn’t need to waste the rest of his day helping with this. But he knew he didn’t need to. He wanted to. And who was going to stop him? Certainly not you.

He started on one end, and you the other, working slowly until you met in the middle. By the end, your hands were red and scratched up from pulling the thistle weeds. Of course, Kharghaad’s were so calloused that it was like he had a pair of gloves on. He gave a little gasp when he saw your sore fingers. “Why didn’t you say anything…” He scooped your small hands into his, as delicate as you would pick up a fresh baby bird.

Every time he touched you it was like this great release. Your mother, as loving as she was, never quite developed a touchy-feely nature. You were so used to it fleeting as soon as it was there. Quick handshakes, brushing against someone in the market. You craved physical touch.

So when Khargaad didn’t let go of your hands. When he held them so carefully and tenderly. So deliberately. You found yourself trying to memorize every little second of the moment.

“I’ll have to buy you gloves.” He muttered, picking out the little needles with surprising dexterity. He took his canteen and went to rinse off the skin. “I can wash my own hands, Khargaad.” You chuckled.

“But I want to,” He blurted out with immediate embarrassment, “Sorry, I guess you could say it’s an orc thing? It’s sorta like… we’re very communal. There’s no reason to do much of anything alone, if you think about it…” He sort of trailed off like he was getting ahead of himself. He paused.

“I hope I'm not smothering you. Maybe humans aren’t like that-” He went to let go of your hands, and a part of you cried out inside. You were tired of trying to play this stoic lone wolf character. It wasn’t who you were. It’s not who any of us are. We all need each other.

“Please, don’t stop…” You whispered to him, thrusting your hands back into his. You uttered the magic words. The words he had been waiting for. He pulled you into his chest. It didn’t matter how gross, hot, and sweaty the two of you were. Or that your mother was most definitely watching joyfully from the kitchen window. Nothing mattered. “Can we go somewhere?” His voice was muffled as he whispered into the top of your head. He was taking long deep sighs, taking in your scent.

“Please…” The need in your voice was palpable. He didn’t waste another moment, leading you to the forest behind your property. “Khargaad… the road is that way.” You motioned behind yourself. “I know a quicker way.” He glanced back at you with that sweet little smirk on his face.

Once past the treeline, the soft light of dusk struggled to breach the overhead foliage. You walked together for some time, before the sound of running water bubbled ahead. He had led you to a little clearing, where in the middle stood a circular style tent. A creek babbled away off to the side. The moon was full and provided plenty of light for you to take it all in. “Do you live here?” 

He nodded, looking down at you expectantly for approval. You grinned, “It’s lovely.”

He snaked a strong arm around your waste, pulling you in. His other hand cupped the back of your head, tilting your face up to his. For a moment he hovered over you, as if waiting for your permission. You reached up to cup his face, thumbing over one of the tusks jutting out of his mouth.

His lips met yours. It started slow, like sipping on a glass of fine wine. Then it was hungry. Like you had both been starved. You were getting drunk off of the needy little grunts he was making, pulling you in flush with his body. You could feel him through his trousers, and it startled you out of your stupor a bit. You hadn’t been with anyone before, and it was bound to happen sooner or later, but this was a bit more than you ever imagined.

It was almost like he sensed your tension, pulling away to look into your eyes, “Let’s get clean.” He had brought his thumb up to caress over your cheek, planting a small peck before jogging to his tent. Watching him disappear under the flap, your mind raced. What if you weren’t ready? What if he’s not patient?

He bounded out towards the stream, beckoning you over. He started to frown as you got closer, like he could smell the apprehension coming off of you, “Do you need to go slower? Do you want to go home? Nothing has to happen. Nothing at all. You are in charge.”

He started unlacing the ties of his trousers. You instinctually looked away, giving him privacy he clearly didn’t need. With the sound of water sloshing you looked back at him submerged up to his sternum. You approached the water’s edge, looking down into the little bubbles churning in the current. “Hey… what’s wrong?” He waded over to the edge, leaning onto the grassy bank. There wasn’t any aire of seduction in his voice, just one of genuine tenderness.

You sucked it up and opened your mouth, “I’ve never done this before…”

“With an orc?”

“No like… I’ve never done this before… ever.” You winced as the words came out. You were a grown adult, this conversation shouldn’t feel embarrassing. But it did nonetheless.

“And so you don’t want to do this?” He didn’t seem fazed at all by the information. “No!” You yelped out a little too enthusiastically, “No- I mean, yes. Yes I do want to. I want you.”

You started to pull at the ties of your shirt, face so flushed it was probably glowing red. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you. You ripped the shirt off your head like pulling off a bandaid, exposing your chest to the warm summer air. You went to fiddle with the strings of your work pants. He still didn’t look away, and you didn’t ask him to.

And there you were, clothed only in moonlight. Khargaad thought, maybe the moon had come out just for you tonight, to see your beauty for itself.

You stepped down into the water. “Are you sure you’re human? Not a beautiful fairy playing tricks on me?” Khargaad was completely entranced by you, eyes roaming over the curve of your shoulders to the curves of your breasts.

You felt some of the tension ease, snorting at him “I don’t think a fairy would smell this bad.” He gasped a bit as if he had just remembered, grabbing a bar of soap he had retrieved from the tent. “May I?” He asked, lathering up the bar in his hands.

You nodded, letting him wade closer to you. You felt the palms of his massive hands begin to work themselves into your hair, massaging his fingers into your scalp. “Oh-” You exclaimed a rather embarrassing moan, but it felt so good. He finished and went to clean his own hair. “Hey, it’s my turn now!” You scolded him. He was more than happy to let you clean him. As he said previously, it’s a part of orc culture to do things with other people. That includes bathing.

And oh how he loved to see you doing orc things. Like wearing that yellow dress dyed with orc spices, and making those pickled eggs for him. It made him think about how great it would be to bring you home with him, to meet all of his family. For you to find a place in his tribe. He missed home a lot, and now you were a part of that picture. You finished running your fingers through the curls of his clean hair.

He heard the sloshing of water, turning around to see you drying yourself off. He joined you. You cast a quick glimpse below his waist, blushing furiously at his partially hard cock.

You walked together to the flap of the tent. The inside surprised you. It was so… cozy. “Ah-” He had leaned down to nuzzle into your neck, you loved the feeling of his tusks against your skin. He pulled you to what could best be described as a nest. A nest of pillows and blankets. He very carefully leaned you onto your back, “Is this okay?”

You giggled at him, “Yes Khargaad. I will tell you if I need to stop, okay?”

“Promise?” He leaned back on his knees, his olive green skin looking lovely in the warm glow of the lantern lighting the tent. His member was on full display, completely unashamed. The way it twitched in anticipation made your stomach flutter. “Yes.”

He lied down next to you, peppering little kisses in the crook of your neck. His hands began to roam your body, starting with your shoulders and slowly moving down to your tits. His calloused palm grazed over the sensitive peaks, causing you to let out a breathy sigh. He took your left breast into his hand, thumbing over your hardened nipple. He palmed your chest for a few moments more, like he was savoring each and every new part of you he explored. You felt his cock hard against your leg. You shifted your thigh, giving him just the lightest sensation of friction. The groan he mumbled into your skin made you feel hot between your legs. You clenched your thighs together, trying to get some relief.

His hand traveled down to your stomach, caressing the curves and grabbing a soft handful of skin. “Good…” He whispered. You shivered as his hand glided over your hips, so close to your entrance. He reached for the inside of your thigh, pulling it over into his cock. He let out another breathy sigh that left you completely slick with desire. His hand hovered over the mess of hair covering your mound. You opened your legs, giving him permission.

He started by slowly palming you, just beginning to give you the attention your pussy was desperate for. You felt a finger slip past your folds, getting drenched in the slickness. Khargaad shifted you up a bit so he could have better access to your chest. He dipped down, taking a nipple into his mouth and sucked playfully. “Oh f-fuck-” You were stuttering at the pleasure of it all. He grinned into your chest, “Keep making those noises sweetheart.” The pet name made your heart flutter.

He kept gently probing a finger up and down your slit, until he dipped one down just at the beginning of your entrance. His fingers were bigger than your own, but this wasn't so much of a stretch. He slowly sheathed the finger in you, “Tight.” He grunted. He made a come hither motion into that sensitive spot of your inner walls. You yelped out a completely sinful moan as he prodded you a few more times. His finger exited your hole, pulling the wetness of your cunt onto your swollen and sensitive clit.

“Khargaad-” Your hips bucked up into him as he swirled long languid circles around that little bundle of nerves. He pulled off, and sat back on his knees, “Can I taste you?”

It was the way he asked more than anything. Like he was close to begging for it. You nodded, spreading your legs for him. He settled down in front of you, using both of his thumbs to spread your lips apart. You felt the tip of his fat tongue probe your needy pussy. He reached up to play with your nipples, while he moved up to your throbbing clit. He started with light kitten-licks, making you whine and buck up into his mouth. That wonderful tongue of his made swirls and then quick flickering motions over the sensitive spot. At this point you were almost completely lost in pleasure, and reached down to thread your fingers through his soft brown curls. 

You were already sensitive when he started, so you were very close to finishing. You actually yelled when he inserted a finger into you. Prodding that sensitive spot while attacking your sensitive clit; it was making the most obscene wet noises. “Close.” That was all you could manage as he devoured you. There it was, feeling crushed over you like a ton of bricks. You coated this hand, legs spasming. He dipped down to lap up the remnants of your release. Your taste, your smell, the feeling of his hair clenched in your fist. He was addicted.

He leaned back, taking in his work. You had a hand on your forehead and a hand on your chest, calming down from what you just experienced. You glanced down at him, both hands on his thighs. His cock was completely erect, tip glistening with pre-cum. It was so heavy it bowed down under its own weight. “Y/n…” He was trying to figure out what to say next. His cock needed to be buried in your pretty little cunt. He needed to bottom out into you. He wanted to hear the sound of his heavy balls slapping against your skin with every thrust. But he couldn’t say that, though. He didn’t want to push you if you weren’t ready.

So when you propped yourself up on your elbows, legs spread for him, he almost felt like crying. His human mate was so strong. So ready for him.

He crawled over you, pinning your legs over his shoulders. He took the base of his cock into his fist, guiding it slowly over your folds. You were so warm for him. He pushed his pulsating tip past your lips, wincing from the sensitivity. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you, but you were completely entranced watching his cock slide into you. His tip found your hole, sliding in but not going any further. He was absolutely strangeling the pillow he was resting his hand on, trying to maintain control. Khargaad was watching you, every little subtle expression. He kept sinking himself into you, stopping when you made the first wince of pain. He was big, and you were so tight. 

“Y/n?” You looked up at him through those pretty lashes. He nearly lost it all right there, just from the eye-contact. You got off of your elbows, leaning down completely. You gave a little nod, still making direct eye contact. Slowly and gently, he worked his way in until his hips were flush with yours. He leaned back, still buried in you, letting you adjust to the stretch.

He wouldn’t last long at all, seeing you like this. Your little face with knotted brows, arms thrown overhead. Khargaad brought his hand to your stomach, rubbing little circles into the soft skin with his thumb. You were perfect. Perfect to take his seed. Perfect for growing a little half-orc.

He wouldn’t yet, of course. Not until you were ready. For you, he would wait as long as needed. But his strange orc hormones and instincts craved it beyond explanation.

He began rocking out and back into you, keeping a slow languid pace. You reached out for him, and in an instant his head was nuzzled in your neck again. His pace started to ramp up a bit, earning little mewls from your lips. Oh he definitely wouldn't last much longer. “W-where…” His breath hitched in your ear. “Huh?” You were too flustered to try to understand what he was asking.

“Going to-” He was hissing and groaning, barely able to work out a sentence, “On your body- ah- or o-on the bed?” His motions were getting jerky. “Fuck- sorry- oh fuck.”

He pulled out just barely in time to empty himself onto your stomach. He fucked his rough fist through the climax, sighing at the sight of his seed coating your tummy. It felt a lot warmer than you expected, and much more… volume. He finally let go of his cock, reaching for a linen cloth and dunking it in a bowl of water he had set nearby. “I made a mess…”

He sounded so guilty, and you giggled at him teasingly. One of his hands cupped your face, while the other softly wiped the length of your cunt, messy from your own slickness. He wiped the cum that was coated across your stomach, being careful not to spill any on the bed.

“You did so good.” He started cooing sweet nothings to you while running his thumbs across your cheekbone, “Wore me out…” He chuckled, throwing the rag across the room. He yawned and stretched his arms above him.

“Do you want me to go home now?” You were all too familiar with the stories women told about men finishing and ordering them to leave. You didn’t quite have the confidence yet, to advocate for yourself. To tell him you wanted to spend the night wrapped up in his arms.

For Khargaad, this question felt like an arrow to the heart. Had he not done enough? To make it clear how badly he needed you with him? He laid down next to you, pulling you close, “I would kill the person who would try to take you from me right now.”

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

Here is Part 5 for you lovelies <3 <3 <3 btw Khargaad is living in a yurt, that's what I was trying to describe lol.

I attached a playlist I put together. These are the songs I've been listening to while writing this, if anyone wants to hear the vibes :3

Tagged List <3

@reads-stuff-quietly @loo-looland @sluttygirl123 @beaniebaneenie @blushycadaver @sunndust @whyiamadegenerate @the-attic-of-porcelain @freakyotaku059-blog @youknowits-derea @thoughts-of-bear-undercovers @allthecraftandthings @gruffle1 @kennedyabraxas123 @queenies1x1 @jellyslimesofficial @jasminedragoon @rangoismyname @the-queen-of-sorrows @the-dumber-scaramouche @heddaloddafun @swimmingrascalbatdragon @hellodollstuff @wingedghostpepper @pistachioinfernal @honeybaegle @sammehshark @dij-ology @forgemotherkestrel @wafflefries786

[sashiavi]

•·····🍑······• ֪٘ ︶ ͝ ٘⏝𝓣𝔀𝓮𝓷𝓽𝔂 𝓣𝔀𝓸 ⏝ ͝ ٘︶٘ ֪•······🍑·····•

𝚂𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚒𝙰𝚟𝚒'𝚜 𝙺𝙸𝙽𝙺𝚃𝙾𝙱𝙴𝚁 2023

#22•𝙿𝚑𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚂𝚎𝚡•#22

𝙰𝚕𝚑𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚖 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚡 𝙺𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚑 ʷᵒʳᵈ ᶜᵒᵘⁿᵗ ⁴ᵏ

He knew this was a bad idea, a horrible idea. A potentially illegal idea? Don't ask him, he wasn't a cop - He didn't particularly want to find out regardless. But. The warm huff of his girlfriend’s giggled breath on his hardening length. The flushed expression of the usually stoic man on his blaring phone screen. They almost make him forget about the passing headlights of cars and the dripping pipes puddling on the concrete of the graffitied alleyway. 

It all started, Kaveh muses, earlier that night.

The Bumbling bustle of the bar oddly soothes Kaveh's nerves, an all-familiar place with even more familiar people. [Name] and Kaveh went out on the town with Tighnari and Cyno, leaving Alhaitham back at their apartment. He mentioned he had some important thesis he had to work on - Kaveh thinks it was just an excuse to stay out of it. Alahitham was a homebody, a grumpy near agoraphobic man that could live the rest of his life in a hole - And he'd be happy, too. Kaveh and [Name] would probably join him, the pair never wandered far from the aforementioned man. He was their rock, or maybe a boulder, temperamental, shell cracking at every misadventure the pair strung him through. Sometimes though, Alhaitham came out with the sweetest affirmations and it sent Kaveh’s brain barreling down a never-ending flight of stairs.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear. Kaveh’s phone buzzes on the table, lighting up with a message from his other half.. Or third? If his heart were a pie chart, he’d have a special place for both of his partners. All good things come in threes - or something - Regardless, his boyfriend texted him. And his girlfriend answers.

The ever so punctuated Alhaitham lights up his phone screen with his demands. Kaveh swears his eyes hurt trying to read his texts. He was too inebriated for this, the words swirl into a muddly ball of squiggles. He ought to punch Alhaitham in the mouth.. With his mouth… Maybe later. 

“He’s no fun” [Name] pouts, swirling her deteriorating paper straw through her drink, mixing up the once rainbow assortment of liqueur into a muddy, watery red-brown. Kaveh watches his darling [Name] slump over the table, throwing her phone down, nearly knocking over his frozen margarita and whatever bizarre cocktail she decided to order herself. Tighnari gives a soft chuckle from across the table, eyes crunched with a sympathetic smile. 

“Knowing him he’s missing you just as much [Name], he’s just not one for places like this, Cyno is the same.” Tighnari’s voice manages to cut through the live band playing away at some classic folk rock song everyone and their father knew. Speaking of; Cyno was nowhere to be seen - Long gone off to the bathroom or the bar.. Archons knows, that man was an enigma. Kaveh wasn’t sure he even existed in the first place, was Cyno real?

The ping on Tighnari’s phone nearly scares him. He shall appear Kaveh half recites in his head with an outward snort. He watches Tighnari with sleepy eyes, cheek pressed into the palm of his hand. The aformentioned man opens his phone with his thumb. He widens his eyes comically, quickly pressing the off button on the side of the device, nearly dropping it onto the table in his haste. [Name] squints at him from the table top, lips pursed and an eyebrow cocked. Tighnari clears his throat.

“Ah- Cyno messaged- He’s waiting for me in the bathro- uh I m-mean the back.. Room.. door- the back door! Cyno’s ready to leave.. I’ll see you guys around? G-Get home safe!” Tighnari stumbles of of his stool, most definitely not making his way towards the exit of the building. Kaveh blinks, sipping his frozen marg that was not-so-frozen anymore - Alright then. He side eyes his girlfriend, giving her a look - Are you seeing this?

“They’re gonna fuck” [Name] falls into a pit full of giggles, wrapping her lips around her straw, drinking up the watery thing this place called a cocktail. At least someone said it. 

“I couldn't have said it more eloquently myself..” Kaveh says, sipping into the last ounce of liquid in his glass with a bubble of his straw. Mm tequila. Yuck.

“I’ll be back in a sec, Kaveyy~ Gotta go bathroom..” [Name] hops off of her stool and disappears into the crowd. Kaveh sighs, blinking his way back into the land of the sober. He nurtures her drink with the instinct of a mother pigeon, fending for her young in the big bad city. No harm shall come to this watered down mystery juice, not on his watch. He feels the burn of alcohol in his cheeks, the subtle sway of his body as he sits and stares. Much like going to the bathroom at a house party, stuck alone for a second to really take in just how drunk you feel. The horrible feeling is quick to dissipate when [Name] comes weaving through the crowd, back over to their little table. She had a quirk about her, a sly look in her eye, twitch on her lip.

“Welcome back,” Kaveh hands her, her drink. She graciously takes it with a sweet kiss to his cheek, staining his face with her lipstick. Kaveh gets awfully suspicious when she pulls out her phone, pressing her face to his own and snapping a cute selfie, sticky lipstick stain on full show. She pulls back with a giggle, grinning down at her screen nearly pressing it to her nose. Kaveh doesn't have to inquire, she’s quick to let him in on her mischief.

“‘Nari and Cyno gave me an idea~” [Name’s] eyes looked far too awake for the time of night. Kaveh cocks a brow, squinting at her phone screen as she swipes between her gallery pictures. He sees her in all her glory, somehow managing to look absolutely insatiable in the dingy bar bathroom. Tiny dress slipped half off, pretty lips parted with her tongue poking out just enough, a dangerous glint in her eyes. He sucks in a breath, he really shouldn't get so worked up - Like a greasy school boy that caught a glimpse of a teacher's underskirt. Not that he ever did that. He ignores how his pants grow a little tighter.

“You went to the bathroom to take nudes?” He reaches for a napkin to wipe his face. [Name] rolls her eyes, sipping the last of her drink.

“Lewds, Kaveh” She earnestly corrects him with a pout, rolling her eyes as if he should have known the difference. Seemed nude enough to him.

“What, you have a secret third partner you're not telling us about?” He teases her. [Name’s] pout grows into a playful scowl, gently shoving his shoulder.

“Yeah, and they’re way prettier than you~” She bites back with a smile, shaking her head and falling into a pit of giggles that Kaveh couldn't help but join in.

“Should I send them?” She leans back in, zooming in and out on the pictures she snapped.

“To your new plaything?” Kaveh smirks. [Name] groans dramatically.

“No- To ‘Haithem. ‘Wanna tease him..” She giggles and nods her head, eyes glinting in mischief. It could be fun, Kaveh muses. He could make a hobby out of getting on Alhaitham’s nerves - Respectfully of course, he still loved him after all. 

“Tease him? He won’t be happy when we get back.. Puppy” His voice drops low, eyebrow raised with a cheeky smirk. He notices her visibly shift, mouth turned in a downturned smile, eyes squinting back at him.

“All the better, no?” She comes back at him. Touche. “C’mon, lets go now~” She beckons under his chin, pressing her finger into his skin, lifting his head with a quick flick. If she asked him to get down on his knees and bark, he’d probably do it. Who’s the puppy now - It's Kaveh.

The pair leave the bar and stand on the sidewalk by the building, [Name] eagerly scrolls through her pictures, biting her lip in an attempt to conceal her grin. She asks for his opinion, and he opts for something a little more modest, with at least some of her clothes on for imaginative purposes. She rolls her eyes at him, saying Alhaitham couldn't picture the colour green let alone a human. The two come to a compromise, pick one each and send off the cute selfie with her lip stain on Kaveh’s cheek. 

Kaveh slips his hand in hers as they begin to make the walk home, not before letting Alhaitham know -  With a little treat attached.

Kaveh doesn't even have to press the call button, Alhaitham’s name pops up bright on his screen. [Name] giggles again, hanging off of Kaveh’s arm. He swipes the answer button, pressing the phone to his ear.

“Hello, Love” Kaveh, feigns innocence in his voice, flicking his eyes to the little minx next to him.

“Is [Name] with you?” Alhaitham’s voice is ever deadpan through the speaker, the man had a knack for indifference, but Kaveh could see through it every time.

“Of course-” Kaveh starts before being hastily cut off.

“Good. Put her on please.” He sounds tense. Not the angry I'm about to blow tense. The other tense. Still about to blow - Just in an all new fashion. Kaveh masks a laugh with a sigh, handing over the phone to his other-other half. Third? He hands his phone to [Name].

“Nawhhh ‘Haitham do you miss us?” She opens the call with a sweet voice, swinging Kaveh's arm as they walk the dusky city streets. Kaveh strains to hear Alhaitham's droning voice, crackling through the speaker pressed to his beloved's ear, muffled and illegible. He can only listen to [Name], hearing half of their conversation through her replies- not that she said anything other than; various versions of 'mmhm'.

"Uhuhh~ oh? really?... Yeah..?" Her tone of voice steadily becomes more sultry with every word she speaks. A tingle runs down Kaveh's tummy, right into his groin. Curse the effect this wretched witch - his beloved beautiful girlfriend - Had on his body. He intakes a deep breath of city air, trying to keep vigilant of their surroundings, half purposely ignoring their call to calm the ache in his pants.

“Just can’t wait until we get home, huh..?” [Name] continues, voice suddenly sobered up. For some reason it turns him on more, being half ignored between their heated ministrations. He can only imagine what Alhaitham could be saying, and it riles him up all the more. The anticipation of what's waiting for him at home doesn't help - He knows what Alhaitham is like. If they fuck around, they’ll definitely find out. The consequences will be laid out for them. Regardless of who starts it, Alhaitham ends it.

Kaveh is jolted out of his running thoughts by a tug on his arm. [Name] leads him on with a giggle, down a street or two, right into a secluded passage nestled between two apartment buildings. Kaveh reels his head together, coming to so quick he swears he gives himself whiplash. [Name] presses her glossy lips to his own, pashing him loud and wet right into the receiver of the phone. Kaveh’s head was reeling, crotch most definitely bulging at the seam of his pants. He hears a faint groan through the phone, just as [Name] bites down on his plump lips, eliciting his very own keening noise.

She pulls off of him, lips wet with a sticky string of saliva, still connecting their lips together. He watches it glisten under the dim street light, snapping and joining the slick gloss adorned on her lips. His girl bites at his neck, huffing little giggles as she sinks her teeth into his milky flesh. Gods he can barely keep quiet, whimpering softly, fluttering his pretty carmine eyes closed. There's a scuffle over the line, a sound of fabric shifting through the speaker of the phone.

“Kaveh” There's a sweet whisper in his ear, sending the most delicious shiver down his spine, nearly making his knees weak. He finds the voice, his darling girlfriend, eyes full and swimming with something he was all too familiar with. There's a short beep and a phone is stuffed into his hands, video call on, camera faced to the ground. Alhaitham’s face is on the screen, brows scrunched up, eyes searching the dark picture of the video.

“Make sure I look pretty” [Name] bites her lip with a giggle, trying to mask her cheeky smile. Gods didn't she always, it was near impossible for her not to be. She lowers herself to the dirty concrete floor of the alleyway, hands already easing into the loops of Kaveh’s pants. He's hyper aware of their surroundings - distant chatterings of drunk party goers, the beaming lights of a taxi driving by. His eyes strain at the bright phone screen, nearly fumbling to keep the video steady.

“Watch him.. Make sure he touches himself~” [Name] purs against the bulge in his pants. Alhaitham watches closely as she fumbles with Kaveh’s button, unzipping his pants. She hooks her fingers into his waistband, clenching her palms into the fabric as she pulls them down his frame. Kaveh hisses, feeling the hot pressure of his trousers become replaced by a cool spike of air. [Name] fingers into his briefs on her way down, revealing the soft skin of his groin to the video. With a giggle she fully releases him, his pretty cock slaps into his tummy with a soft noise, leaving a sticky bead of pearlescent pre on his dress shirt. He hears a crackled moan through the phone speaker and his eyes are on Alhaitham. The man bites at his lip, squeezing the base of his thick length, face slowly being overconsumed by a warm red blush.

Kaveh can't decide where to look - Past the phone and down at his pretty girl? Or into the video feed on Alhaitham’s shaky camera angle. He fails to decide when he feels a hot huff of breath on his cock. [Name] kisses at his flushed pink tip, smearing the last of her sticky lip gloss all over his velvety head. Kaveh’s mouth falls open, eyes squinting down at the pretty girl below him. His grip on the side of the phone tightens as he captures her licking her tongue flat on the underside of his length, sending a hot pulse right into Kaveh’s achy cock. He bites back a soft moan, eyes already getting bleary and teary. Gods he was sensitive, and didn't she know it. He eyes Alhaitham’s expression, his lips parted ever so slightly, teeth biting into the side of his cheek. He watches as the usually stoic man breaks ever so delicately. It's something Kaveh had come to absolutely relish.

Kaveh nearly cries, his sensitive tip suddenly engulfed by the pretty girl on her knees, kissing at the back of her eager throat. She swallows around him, gagging hot over his pretty cock, forcing fresh tears to bubble in her eyes. Gods she looked almost pornographic. Mascara already beginning to turn into a black liquid mess under her eyes, threatening to stream down her cheeks. She drools over his cock, taking him back and forth, always swallowing his flushed tip down her warm throat. She eyes the phone camera, raising a brow she pulls off of his length, blowing a cheeky kiss towards Alhaitham. 

“Wish you were here~” She mockingly pouts at the man on the phone, eagerly taking Kaveh back down her throat. Kaveh keens out loud, moaning high from his throat with his head tilted back into the rough, graffitied brick wall. Gods she was rough, rougher than she ever was with him, was she teasing them? Showing Alhaitham exactly what he was missing out on? Was this how she took his cock? Rough and dirty and eager - Completely unlike the soft, doting way she wraps her lips around his own cock. Alhaitham crunches his brows, front teeth clenched with his lips parted in a scowl, Kaveh watches him stroke his thick length, the flushed velvet tip barely coming into the frame of the video.

“Makin’ a mess of yourselves in public huh? Trying to tease me? Better not come back here… If you know what's good for you..” Alhaitham’s voice babbles through the phone, playing along with [Name’s] little game. They all knew exactly what would transpire the second they walked through the door. It only eggs [Name] on further. It's her turn to moan, garbling around Kaveh’s long, pretty length as she takes him. She makes a show of sinking down on Kaveh, kissing at the base of his length, pretty eyes gazing up into the camera. Her mascara was running, pooling down her cheeks as she looked up at Alhaitham, purposely going out of her way to show him up. There's that feeling again, the burn in his tummy as he’s caught between their teasing, their little toy to rile each other up.

Gods it's nearly too much, Alhaitham’s eager shake of his shoulder as he jerks himself off, on show for only Kaveh to see. His cock aches and tenses as [Name] takes him down, rocking her whole body into him, suckling at him sweetly before fucking him with her throat. He cant take his eyes off of them, albeit blurred form the little pin pricking tears that well up in the corners of them. He stares through the phone screen, through the little square on the phone, eyes darting between [Name] and Alhaitham.

“[Name]... Haitham- [Na-].. Won't last..!” Kaveh’s hand wobbles, he was quickly certainly becoming the worst cinematographer in the world. [Name] rakes her palms over his cool, milky skin, caressing him with some ounce of her usual softness she leaves for him. A hot shiver runs straight into his groin, he can't help but thrust his hips forward, spearing his tip down her eager throat. She keens around him, swallowing hard on him, taking him deeper and faster his brain could barely keep up. 

“Gonna come? Poor baby's gonna come..? Look at what you've done [Name].. Dragging poor Kaveh into your little game..” Alhaitham’s voice mocks them through the phone. That's right.. Poor Kaveh.. All caught up between their silly game. His eyes work double time trying to focus on the two, Alhaitham’s looney expression, slightly pixelated from the horrendous phone reception in the small walls of the corridor. [Name’s] eager expression, lips wrapped around his cock, lead and wet and slobbery. He throws his head back, he couldn't bear to watch them, lest he make a mess of himself. 

He feels a hand on him, cupping at his balls, tender and ticklish - He feels himself tense, embarrassed at the man watching and hearing him through the phone, coming close from the pretty girl drooling over his cock. Gods, his brain was running overtime, absolutely reeling at everything it could. The flickering light above them, the headlights that stopped for far too long for his liking, the dripping pipe to his right. The warm engulf of his pretty girlfriend’s mouth around his aching cock, the usually aloof man in his phone, staring right at his groin with his own cock in his hand.

Kaveh’s cheeks burn, his balls ache and cock tenses hard. Gods, he was done for, unable to reel in the spike in his groin. His free hand comes down to his girlfriend’s hair, threading through the strands in an attempt to have her slow down. She manages to giggle, pushing past his attempt and suckling ever so sweetly against his hot tip. Kaveh whines and keens out loud, hiccupping in hot embarrassment, eyes finally allowing the warm tears to streak down his cheeks. He thrusts, he can't help it, giving in to [Name’s] pleasure, taking her mouth with his cock as Alhaitham watches through the camera. God he was sure he would never live this down, but he couldn't care - Not when his sweet girlfriend looks so pretty on his cock, not when Alhaitham chants through the speakers, commanding him to let go, to come for him.

Kaveh throws his head back, knocking his skull into the hard wall. He moans with an open mouth, spit hot on his tongue as his cock twitches hard. He can barely make out a short ‘Cumming-!’ before his sticky mess coasts [Name’s] tongue. He cums thick, milky ropes, whimpering as she suckles sweetly on him, edging all of his sweet, sticky cum out of him. Her tongue rolls over his achy slit, lapping up the pebbling spurts of cum that pulse from his cock.

[Name] makes a cheeky show of lapping at his pretty cockhead, tongue coated in his milky cum, smearing it all over himself. She sticks her tongue out for the camera, for Alhaitham to see, hot and milky, nearly dribbling off of her. She giggles and suckles at his swollen tip, swallowing around his overstimulated cock, earning a hot whine from his throat. [Name] stands from the dirty concrete, knees flushed and covered in a mystery dust. She snatches the phone from Kaveh, pulling him into a filthy, spitty kiss, swapping his creamy mess between them. She makes sure Alhaitham’s watching, peering her eyes to the side, seeing Kaveh’s fucked out, flushed face in the corner square as she kisses into him. Kaveh knew he surely looked a mess, lips swollen and teeth bitten, nose red with blush, eyelashes wet and stuck together. He can't bear to look.

Alhaitham practically growls, surely cumming in his own palm as he watches them swap Kaveh’s sweet, salty mess. He babbles, telling them that they’re filthy, they're in for it, pretty little things couldn't even keep to themselves. No wonder, he can barely keep himself from them regardless. [Name] pulls away first, nipping at Kaveh’s nose before turning to the man on call.

“Muah! Love you Haitham~ See you soon” She cheekily bites her lip, hastily shutting off the video call before the man could even get a word in. she crouches down, helping Kaveh re-dress himself. Oh the shame, he cannot bear to leave the sanctuary that is the dusty alleyway. His tummy flips at the idea of coming home to Alhaitham, maybe he could worm his way out? He was a victim - Just a bystander! The phone buzzes again, and [Name] giggles, shutting off the ringer and taking Kaveh’s hand into her own.

“C’mon~ Haitham is waiting~” She plants a hot kiss to his lips before dragging through the street once again.

“I don't know if I wanna ever see him again after that..” Kaveh pouts dramatically, heart pulsing in anticipation as [Name] punches in their building code. Here goes nothing, he supposes.

Hi, hello, welcome to November 😔

We're truly holding on by a thread here girlies-

Lmk if you enjoyed! Idk how I feel about this one- also idk if I regret making those texts- sksksjsh tumblr wasn't formatting them in like wOrd form how I wanted so I, for some reason created my own lmaoo

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[one-night-story]

I Don't Know You, But I Would Love to Meet You (Jack Hughes)

a/n: I wanted to get this not under the wire, but I can't help but feel like it a little? Which, sorry about that. this is for @writingonleaves by way of @wyattjohnston 's annual winter fic exchange! I hope you enjoy it! this was as always a fun challenge to write. title is from "We Should Be Friends" by Josh Ramsay, which is v cute. (also it's so long oh jeez)

There’s probably a certain age when you’re fairly certain you’re “too old” to be waking up on strangers couches with little memory of A) who’s couch you ended up on and B) how exactly you got there.

I don’t think I’ve quite hit that age yet, so I think I’m in the clear for the understandable confusion I woke up with as the morning sun streamed in from the floor to ceiling windows. 

Shit, not only was I in an unfamiliar apartment, whoever was renting the place was clearly richer than my blood. 

Good news: my phone was on the coffee table and attached to a charger, so whoever I’d crashed with was a benevolent host, which boded well for my continued situation. I checked my texts and it seems last night me had been coherent and just exhausted, seeing as I remembered to text my roommate that I wasn’t coming home saying I was crashing “with friends” and that I’d text her when I got back on campus. 

Huh, promising.

It at least meant she wouldn’t send out a search party consisting of our friend group, their friends, and the National Guard. All incredibly good things for my continued health and existence. 

Now, to figure out who’s apartment I’d just woken up in. 

Carefully, I stretched out my legs and shifted the blankets onto my lap when I realized I at the very least had the sense to not try and sleep in jeans but had left my “nice enough to go out” t-shirt on, and scanned the area. A couple of photos on the wall of a relatively decent sized family, siblings at the bare minimum as they popped up in several photos. Rich, but a bachelor as no one with any interior design sense had popped by to huck a colored throw pillow into the mix, and that was assuming their lease didn’t allow for wall color changes. 

Honestly, I was coming up empty. 

None of my friends were this rich, hell if they were I feel like it would’ve come up way sooner, not to mention why the hell would they bother commuting to campus when they probably could leverage online classes and still come out with a degree. 

I was just about to fashion enough of a blanket skirt to at least try and find my pants so I could start rifling through a mail stack when there was creaking coming from down the hall. Well, maybe I’d have an answer soon enough. I readjusted the blanket a little so I could look over from where I thought the creaking was coming from and was greeted by… okay calling it a familiar face might’ve been a stretch, but so would the text to my roommate saying I was staying with a friend, so somehow that was two birds with one stone. 

I did recognize him, which was an improvement over my worst fear, he was a friend of a friend of a brother of a friend. Which put me at four degrees of separation, and raised my “why the fuck did I crash here” hackles, but the fact that I was on a couch and not in someone’s bed felt safe, even if it wasn’t all there yet. 

He didn’t seem to be fully coherent yet, as he rubbed his eyes and ran a hand through his, admittedly very pretty, hair so I tried to hold back a large laugh when he startled at seeing me sitting on his couch.

“Hi,” I said with a sheepish wave. “Sorry, I’ll get out of your hair soon enough,” I remarked. What I really needed to do was find out where the hell half-dead me had hucked my pants so I could tug them back on and then make a beeline to the nearest train station to get home.

“‘S fine, just… uh… shit, there’s no like… good way of asking this,” he mulled over.

“It’s okay, I don’t quite remember your name either,” I said, saving him the embarrassment. He laughed, and it was goofy and light, which was way too endearing for… shit did that microwave clock say 9:30 in the morning? I couldn’t help but join in with a chuckle of my own. 

“Oh thank god,” he said once he stopped most of the laughter, “I didn’t want to seem like a complete asshole, but also there was no way I was going to remember it after last night.” He added.

“Yeah, I don’t remember much either, and I don’t even think I drank that much?” I said with just a dash of question in my tone, he nodded once.

“You didn’t, but I think you mentioned that you didn’t want to risk taking the train back so late.” He said. “I offered to let you crash here when you refused to let someone pay for a hotel.”

Yeah, that sure did sound like me.

“Well, thank you, I’m Sadie,” I said, and as soon as I did, he brightened like he suddenly did remember and just needed the metaphorical kick in the brainstem. 

“Yes! Okay, see I thought it’d be in there,” he said with another chuckle. “I usually at least try to learn the names of the girls I bring home.” I couldn’t help but laugh at the way he chose to phrase it and even more when he very clearly winced realizing how it sounded.

“We’ll chop it up to “lack of coffee” and call no hard feelings, sound fair?” I proposed as an even solution to our silly little predicament. 

“Fair, I’m Jack by the way.” he said as he came over to the couch and offered up his hand. “Nice to actually meet you Sadie,” he said. 

“Nice to meet you too,” I said with a chuckle as I shook his hand with a bit of teasing vigor. 

“Can I at least offer you breakfast before you sneak out in the middle of the morning?” He asked while still holding onto my hand. I thought it over, and remembered the time, and figured that… yeah I could probably stand to be held up for coffee and a minimal breakfast before jumping on the train. 

“Yeah, if it’s not —“

“Don’t worry about it,” Jack was quick to cut me off. He let go of my hand and wandered back over to the kitchen and I was quick to try and figure out where the hell I’d put my pants so I wasn’t having to talk across the apartment and be perceived as rude on top of whatever else one could make assumptions about a girl who’d crashed on the couch of a guy she barely knew. After being assured that the blanket was carefully tucked around me I leaned down to check under the couch and was relieved when I found them sticking out. I carefully maneuvered my body so that I could reach under the couch, grab them and carefully bend back up onto the couch so I could put them on under the blanket. When I eventually sat back up and stood. Jack was looking at me with a look of bemusement. 

“Were you…”

“No, last night me wanted to not sleep in jeans. So I must’ve haphazardly hucked them off.”

“And you managed to get them on… without getting up from under the blanket?”

“Old trick from summer camp. Trust me, you haven’t even seen half of it.” I could get dressed pretty entirely without getting up from under the covers. When Jack still looked amused I chuckled and finished walking over to where he was in the kitchen. “What? Upstate New York gets cold in the morning in the summer.” I remarked. Jack fully laughed and again, I couldn’t help but join in.

“Oh I know, I guess I’m just used to living in houses with heating too.” He said. I simply shrugged, low tech summer camps, what could you do? I watched as Jack maneuvered around his kitchen to get the coffee going from the cautious spot of his breakfast bar, trying to not take up too much space or get in the way, no one likes multiple people in a kitchen at once, it was practically a fact. “I only have milk and sugar, I hope that’s okay?”

“It’ll be fine, I’m hardly in a position to be picky,” I said as I tried to focus on something that wasn’t the way Jack’s hair was falling that made him seem… softer? than just my brain’s logical, knee jerk reaction of him being “just some guy”. I mean, of all the people that my sleep addled brain could remember, I definitely remember that Jack was one of the better looking ones. I could feel my fingers wanting to pick at my nails and the social morays of it all was pretty much the only thing holding me back from doing so. I wanted to say something, anything, pretend for one morning that I was good at socializing. The fact that I’d managed to get through last night with enough grace and charm that I had managed to score a place to crash after the friend of a friend I came with ditched me to hook up with on of the myriad of white boys that were there that night meant this morning I was praying I had enough left to at least make it through coffee.

Jack set the Keurig off to do its thing and rifled through the cupboards to try and find… something. Honestly, while I was hoping for cereal, I would’ve settled for toast, when I heard him curse someone under his breath and went over to the fridge.

“Shit.” He muttered.

“Roommate eat you out of house and home?” I said taking a shot in the dark. Jack looked over, remembering he was making coffee for two and gave me a look that read as though I’d gotten it in one. He padded back over to the breakfast bar and leaned in conspiratorially, something I couldn’t help but meet him halfway about.

“So… I might’ve lied about breakfast. My brother was supposed to go grocery shopping yesterday after practice and it looks like he forgot.” I chuckled and opened my mouth to assure him that really, it was fine, thanks for even offering, I’ll just go; but he pressed on, “there’s a spot around the corner that does… probably better than I ever could and that includes the coffee. If you want, I could… take you there?” He proposed. 

On the one hand, that was incredibly sweet and his smile was very much continuing my brain’s belief of him being endearing. Not to mention I love a good brunch spot as much as the next girly and that included a good little diner.

On the other hand, I felt gross being in yesterday’s clothes and I didn’t want to impede Jack’s ability to get on with his day. That, and the somewhat social expectation to turn down anything offered with you without an obvious way to pay back. We weren’t really friends, and we weren’t dating, so what the hell could I even do? My obvious gut reaction was to reject it, to chop it up to the fact that really, he was just being polite and there was no real reason to go with him. But then I snuck another glance at him, a little open and earnest and maybe the offer was just a genuine “let me be a good host in spite of the fact that my roommate is making that a challenge.”

“One condition,” I said and Jack nodded, “you mind if I borrow your shower? I feel super gross,” I said and Jack immediately nodded.

“Yeah, course, I’ll get you a new shirt if ya need.” He was quick to add. I smiled and thanked him as he pointed me toward where the bathroom was. It was very clear a bachelor’s bathroom, but at least they had more than one bottle of soap. So… small victories.

I was quick to wash up and thankful for the t-shirt left precariously balancing on the bathroom island that fully suggested it’d been put there without someone looking. Changing was just as fast and I came back out feeling a little less like death. I grabbed my phone and my bag from the end of the couch (ungracefully shoving my t-shirt from last night in) and met Jack where he was by the door. 

The trip to ground level was mostly quiet, with both of us seemingly trying to pick and choose what to say about all of this. I didn’t want to put any sort of anything on it, hell, I was prepared to pay should need be and blow the rest of my fun money budget for the month. 

And Jack hadn’t been lying when he said the place had been around the corner as, sure enough, the glass faced front of a quaint brunch place, Edison light bulbs and all, was in front of us. For a late Saturday morning, it wasn’t horrendous by any means. I predicted a twenty minute wait without reservations, but I was willing to be surprised. Jack got the door for me and I muttered a quiet thank you as we walked in. The front area was small so I suspected that this was probably a strict “reservation or get lucky on a walk in” place. I snuck a glance at Jack, but he didn’t seem to be fazed by any of it as he made his way over to the hostess and they had a quick exchange before menus were being grabbed and we were being led to a quiet little back booth, out of sight of the main windows. The hostess gave her usual spiel about the menus and our waiter being over in a few and we both thanked her for her time. As she left I finally looked over at Jack.

“What?”

“Does the owner owe you money or something?”

“No, but he is a fan,” he said. That made me tilt my head slightly but I was quick to shake it off. “Relax, I made reservations while you were showering. Got lucky that they had a last minute cancellation.” He said. Yeah, that seemed reasonable all things considered, so I let the topic drop and gave the menu a scan. There wasn’t a lot that didn’t appeal to me, so that was a good sign. 

“Got any recommendations?” I asked as Jack fidgeted with his fork.

“Oh, uh… the pancakes are pretty killer. And my brother swears by their waffles. But pretty much everything’s good.” He said. I nodded and adjusted my own silverware as our waiter came over and poured water. While I was of the firm belief that brunch didn’t count as brunch without mimosas, I just ordered coffee with some of their fancier fixings. We asked for a bit more time with the menus and our waiter agreed to come back with the coffee. We fell into a silence, not quite awkward but nowhere near comfortable, and I settled on biting the bullet first.

“So why New Jersey?” I asked.

“Why New Jersey?”

“Yeah, you don’t seem like you’re from around here so why’d you move to New Jersey?”

“Work,” he answered simply. My memory of the previous night was still a swirling mess of exhaustion and bright lights and a smidge too much noise, but I think I remembered that those at the table who hadn’t been with my acquaintance group were coworkers. Must be a tight knit workplace. “You?”

“School, got a scholarship.”

“What for?”

“Creative writing, not the flashiest of degrees, but it’s what I’ve always wanted to do.” I replied. 

“Working on the next Great American Novel, then?” He asked and I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Ah, maybe. Right now I’m fighting to try and keep my voice while meeting every professors’ wildly different expectations. It’s a… hassle.” I said. The conversation spiraled from there, breaking to order brunch, but otherwise swapping stories about his family and my schooling. What could I say, I had an odd high school experience, even by American Public School standards, and eventful friends.

By the time food came out, we’d eased up the tension by a couple points, and I only felt sort of bad when my phone vibrated insistently in my pocket. I made a gesture asking if it was chill if I got it and he nodded. I fished it out of my pocket and scanned the notification. Multiple texts from Anna, the friend I was supposed to travel home with last night, as it seems she’d finally woken up from her adventures last night. Most of them were standard, if sweet, a “did you get home”, a “sorry for ditching you”, and then finally “oh holy shit this guy is rich rich”. It was funny, and I was just about to put my phone away when I saw the last text come in.

what kind of rich as hell guy has a two bedroom? Shit, did i sleep with a married guy?

That finally got me to audibly laugh and Jack raised his eyebrow, “The friend I was supposed to get back to campus with, she just woke up and is questioning if she just became the other woman.”

“Nah, none of the guys out last night were married. What’d she look like?” He asked.

“Blonde, dark eyeliner, wearing the purple tank top,” I said. Jack then stifled a laugh.

“Ask her if the guy she went home with had poorly taken care of curls,” he said offhandedly. I did and set my phone on the table as I continued eating my brunch.

A couple minutes later my phone lit up with a notification.

yeah, that is *oddly* specific, how did you know?

“Yeah he is,”

“Oh my god,”

“What?”

“She’s at my place.”

“You’re kidding,”

“She went home with my brother, you’ve been in the same place all night,” he said and I couldn’t help but nearly double over as I started laughing. The entire reason I’d crashed was because she had ditched me and now it turns out we’d been in the same apartment the whole night.

“Oh that’s so fucking funny,” I said once I could breathe again. I shot off a text to Anna.

I’m still downtown, I’ll meet you at the train station in a half hour if you want?

deal.

I finally put my phone back in my pocket and we finished up brunch with a companionable edge. By the time the waiter came back to clear our dishes we were getting close to having to negotiate the bill.

“So…” I started to say.

“I’m paying,”

“You didn’t even—“

“I was never gonna let you pay, my mom raised me better than that.” He said. 

“At least let me cover for my coffee?”

“Sadie, don’t worry about it,” he said with a tone that got me to drop it. Like I wasn’t going to be able to win this no matter how I negotiated it. As the waiter came back with the bill and Jack handed over his card I said a quiet thanks which got a grin out of him. Brain, pick a struggle, we cannot be enamored by this boy after waking up on his couch in a first meeting we can barely remember. He finished paying and we got up to leave and I did my best to keep my internal argument off my face as we did.

I managed to make it to the street corner before I was willing to confront the fact that I had to actually leave and go back to campus, and Jack had to… wait. Hang on. 

The coffee had started to kick in and things were finally lining up. I knew I had to have gotten into school for some reason right?

“Oh shit,”

“What?” He asked with a tilt of his head and okay fine I’ll admit it brain he’s cute, but the realizations that my brain was finally having made it so that this was never going to happen again.

“You’re a Devils player,” I said as I smacked my own forehead and Jack started laughing. 

“You only just figured that out?”

“Leave me alone, I haven’t had a full night's sleep in like a week,” I joked, still covering my face a little. Jack carefully moved me out of foot traffic and gently pulled my hands away from my face.

“Is that a deal breaker?” He asked.

“What?”

“Me being a hockey player?”

“What, why?”

“Well, I thought that went well all things considered and I was gonna ask for your number to hopefully do dinner sometime.” He said with a soft smile, letting his hand fall into mine. I thought it over, between the fact that he was indeed cute, that he was nice, and funny, and asking with such an expression that seemed that, if he wasn’t trying to convince me he was cool and at least a little normal, he’d be rocking on his heels about; and the mere fact that he took me out to brunch after offering to let me crash on his couch. It was pretty much enough in the category of good signs that I was inclined to say:

“It’s not a deal breaker,” and he grinned a little wider, “besides I was going to ask for your number anyway. I have to get your shirt back somehow.” I chuckled.

“Ah, keep it, I can always buy a new one.” He joked. I passed over my phone and he put his contact in before quickly texting himself and passing it back. I chuckled at his contact photo, a terribly taken close up of him, and saw that I had a text from Anna that she was at the station already.

“I guess I’ll talk to you to figure out scheduling?” I proposed with just a hint of awkwardness. 

“Yeah, I gotta check with my brother about some things and what have you.” 

“Okay,” I said with a little chuckle of disbelief. “Thanks for brunch, by the way.” I said.

“Thank you for agreeing and not sneaking out in the middle of the morning,” he replied with a bit of a chuckle that lit up his face. There was no good way to leave this, with a promise of something stronger, but still uneasy about what one's dynamic is in the now, “can I give you a hug?” He asked.

Oh thank god.

“Yeah, yes,” I said with a stumbled out laugh as he matched it before giving me a friendly “see you around” style hug. We parted with a half wave and I started making my way back to the train station.

I made it with a bit of a light jog as Anna dragged me in the direction of the platform so we could catch the train just pulling into the station. We quickly collapsed into seats before she finally turned to me.

“So… who's this?” She asked tugging on the sleeve of the clearly borrowed t-shirt.

“The guy who’s couch I crashed on last night. I made a comment about feeling gross about being in last night's clothes that he lent me a t-shirt.” Lent, gave, I wasn’t certain I wanted to broach that topic with Anna yet. Roommate first, acquaintances second. “How ‘bout you? Did you at least get coffee?”

“Yeah, he made a comment about his roommate being out so we ordered breakfast at his place, he was so nice.” She gushed. I watched as the realization crossed her face, “wait you said you’d tell me how you knew what he looked like when we met up,” she lightly wacked my arm with the back of her hand, “spill.”

I laughed and rubbed the back of my neck, “I was at breakfast with his roommate. Also known as his brother.” I said.

“Shut up! No fucking way,” she said with a laugh. We were getting looks from a few commuters in our immediate area and I tried to quiet her down. “That’s too funny,” she said in a slightly quieter tone. “Are you seeing him again?”

“Are you?” I countered.

“Maybe, he gave me his number, but I’m not certain.” She said, “Now tell me you coward,”

“Maybe,” I countered and she groaned at my dramatics.

“Insufferable, you fink.” She joked. I grinned a little as we continued some small talk before I agreed to let her rest on my shoulder until we got to the campus’ stop. 

I fished my phone out and figured that I should probably try and organize a date huh?

[shizunitis]

No, ur absolutely so right about Bingcest. Preach louder because like. It’s just so fun. Any reason why they would be doing it is so fun. Is Bingge fucking Bingmei to show him how he needs to fuck Shizun? Is it a domination thing? What crazy kinks would Bingmei learn from Bingge? How would he try and incorporate them with Shizun? So many questions. I want Bingge to bite Bingmei’s lips when they kiss.

anon i love you and am willing to go through the abyss for you empty-handed and with my hands tied. will give you my firstborn. thank you for letting me talk about this please never leave me

now that the bingmei rp is over, and keeping in mind that i am forever sleep deprived, in a vaguely bingge mood, and also very sorry for what that means for any passersby, here’s my answer. horniness and thoughts (hopefully coherent enough) under the cut

though i find the shizun sandwich version of bingcest to be extremely tasty and a great apperitif, i feel like the pure bingge-bingmei storylines my brain throws at me every now and then are so fucking good (read: hhNnNg) on their own.

a non-exhaustive list of some ideas i didn’t ever think too deeply about but like for reasons:

what if bingge is bingmei’s shizun.

what if bingmei gets stranded in pidw.

what if bingge accompanies bingmei in the abyss.

what if instead of only having bingge and bingmei, we also throw in oo!lbh into the mix and make this the worst throuple to have ever existed.

what if the system fucks up and there’s two binghe’s from the very beginning, twins or clones or whatever, and they brave the world on their own so as not to strain the washerwoman’s already precarious situation further than they did the first time around.

what if bingmei wishes very, very hard for a father during his disciplehood, and the system plops bingge into his world when shen yuan is mia.

what if bingge goes out and tries to find the svsss world again but ends up in oo!pidw.

what if bingge and bingmei live to the ends of their lives and meet after the universe is wiped as cosmic beings and they have incomprehensible sex to soothe the pain.

what if bingmei suspects bingge came back to steal shizun during the monthly wifeplots, and just jumps the gun and goes after the fucker directly.

what if modern au.

what if modern au where they’re separated at birth.

what if actual lab clones of each other!

et cetera (many more examples. none of which i can think of right now and if i’m being honest? half of these i thought up on the fly, so i was lying. fibbing. other words. never ever assume i know what i’m talking about)

in any and all these situations shen qingqiu and/or shen yuan could and perhaps should be integrated, but for my purposes he can take a moment to breathe. i’ll return him his husbands shortly.

back to the point: i love every iteration of bingcest.

bingge and bingmei being very alpha vs. alpha about fucking and literally fighting for dominance. bingmei being horrible at kissing and bingge getting annoyed with the teeth thing and showing him how to actually bite someone (stealing your desires as they perfectly align with mine, anon) and then finding out that what bingge would consider lowly and ignoble (is that how you use the word? probably not), bingmei blushes and whines for so prettily.

exchanging blood and it fails to do anything but induce arousal in the other and then using that as a way to torment each other.

i want the snapping teeth and the clawing and the violence. the almost-tangible, suffocating hatred and frustration. them choking on their leashes tied together without their knowledge. choking on them where the’re tied to opposite ends of the bed as they try to get to the other. and so forth

but soft bingcest works beautifully too. don’t know how they’d end up in that situation but i’m picturing it and it’s very nice.

bingge’s vanity and desire to be perfect projected onto his own self staring back at him, bingmei’s bratty disobedience challenging bingge’s desire to subjugate and conquer and take, all of this culminating in the two of them understanding their differences but also loathing them in a way. why is he different, he’s me, why can’t he understand, why isn’t he doing what i would, why does he hate me, the likes

oh!! bingmei should yell that at bingge actually. or growl it while he pins bingge down to get him to listen to him. and bingge should want to say, “are you stupid?” but holds back because now isn’t the time. where did the brat even get that idea from? he’s done everything he could to make him stronger, to make him realise that the world is a shit, cruel place and they only have each other in the end, and yeah it’s a shit hand to be dealt, but is it? is it really?

hm. don’t really know where that thought ends up but i’m pretty sure it ends up with both of them fucking unbearably tenderly (by their standards) in a forest somewhere.

anyway.

i don’t mean to exclude shizun because. i wouldn’t fucking dare? but bingcest is. it’s dear to me. i’m a bingcest purist if you’d like, but bingcestqiu/yuan is second on the list. third is mobingcumplane/moshangbingqiu but that’s another thing altogether

(i have no actual clue if there’s ship names for these already. surely there are?)

BUT. adding shizun into the mix is wonderful. i’ve rec’ed it before but through the eye of a needle is SUCH a good fic PLEASE give it a read it’s my favourite fic ever ever in the history of ever

i love the idea of shizun trying to tame these two idiots and failing miserably. i also love the idea of him succeeding. i want bingmei making bingge drink some ‘respect shizun’ juice and i want bingge to give bingmei some much needed ‘fuck shizun’ lessons. i want shizun to direct their every movement while he casually drinks his tea and pretends like he’s not foaming at the mouth seeing the two protagonists being “forced” to go at each other like they’re passionate, devoted lovers.

just.

bingcest…

there’s so much i want from bingcest. i want the guilt, and the confusion, and the rage! i want the angst! the territorial spats, the dick measuring contests (literal and metaphorical). the comfort! the. idk man they should be allowed to be horrible to each other, it’s not like they can die.

(holy shit what if one of them dies. fuck i’m exhausted but please. kill one of them and make the other revive him. somehow. maybe we can make regret of chunshan reality but it’s bingcest, if you understand)

but mainly i want the two pretty idiots humping each other’s thighs like teenagers. making bingge crawl for bingmei is also a very fun thought that would make him (plural) react in a very entertaining way. getting bingmei to power bottom is chef’s kiss when bingge’s on the other end. teaching bingge about the beauty of surrendering to his own self, which he does not trust with anything but also understands more than he’d like or wants to acknowledge is also neat. they would get up to degeneracies that i can’t speak of. i’m shy and also inarticulate about them

oooh also lebingcest. exactly the same as before but it’s better. because lesbian yaoi

[song-witch]

Need Me Like I Want You

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff

Word Count: 1,405

Warnings: Unspecified age gap (Nat is older).

Summary: Nat and Wanda had been going on strong for over a month, but will a little secret ruin what they have?

Part Two Part Three

A/N: I hope this has as many twists as I think it does.

“I have to go.” Wanda tried to look stern, but failed miserably, easy giggles falling from her lips. She was only half serious; she knew she had other obligations, but there was always a part of her that wanted to stay with Nat. Those obligations outweighed Natasha by all means, though, which meant she had to go. That didn’t mean she wouldn’t be back, however.

“Tash.” Wanda laughed as she continued to nip gently at the end of her jaw, tilting her head back just slightly. She knew she should leave, needed to leave, but the woman was so addicting. She was glad she took D.A.R.E. as a kid, because she was more than certain she would’ve been addicted to far worse things than a woman. Where addiction stopped and love started, she had no clue.

“I don’t hear you complaining, baby.” Natasha murmured against the younger's neck, sucking softly at the skin there. Despite how much she wanted to cover her in hickies, she knew Wanda had a hard line at where they were, aka, anything visible to anyone but them were off limits. The most she could do with the woman being fully clothed was nip a little here and suck a little there. Enough to tease, too little to mark.

“I-” Wanda was cut short with a gasp, bringing her hands up to gently press against the woman’s shoulders. It was a mix between pushing her away and holding on to something to stabilize herself. They had only been together for barely a month and a half, and the older knew all of her turn ons. And offs, for that matter.

“I need to go.” As difficult as it was, Wanda pulled back, creating space between them as she stepped back. As much as it pained her to do so, she knew from… past experiences that it would be the only way the redhead would let her go. And even then, the woman would still try to find a way to get her to stay. She was insatiable to say the least. “I have class in the morning.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Natasha smirked, her right hand reaching up to cup the younger’s cheek, simultaneously pulling her closer while leaning against the door frame. It was stated as a question, though she knew the answer. She greedily dragged her eyes up and down the woman’s body, the promise of another night hanging between them. Wanda smiled shyly, leaning into the touch despite her earlier actions, biting at her lip.

“Yes.” Wanda whispered, leaning forward even more. They were kissing once again, soft and passionate instead of needy and wanton. It was moments like this that Wanda wanted, yearned for even. She begrudgingly pulled back, holding the straps of her crossbody to stop herself from reaching for the redhead. Their lips smacked as Wanda pulled back, smiling once again.

She couldn’t not smile when she was with Nat. It was as impossible as trying to resist her. Especially when she was dressed in nothing but shorts and a thin tank top, her hair messy and makeup somehow not smeared. Wanda knew she looked like a hot mess, emphasis on the mess. Her sweater was probably on backwards and she knew her hair was sticking up in places it definitely wasn’t when she had gotten there. She would just have to fix herself in her car.

“Don’t miss me too much, baby.” Natasha mumbled against her lips, kissing her one last time before turning her away. It was hard to resist smacking her ass as she walked by, though she did. Wanda hated it, had some bad experience with some ex who was obsessed with doing it. Nat respected that, wouldn’t do it if that’s what she wanted.

“I’ll try not to.” Wanda laughed, throwing a smile over her shoulder.

Her heart dropped to her stomach as she continued walking, knowing the woman was watching her. She would watch her until she pulled out, would text her when she was supposed to be home to make sure she was okay. It was weird. She couldn’t remember how good it felt to be wanted and yet… she felt wrong for it. Felt bad for putting herself first for once. She wouldn’t let that stop her, though. She deserved something good for once, and she’d be damned if she fucked it up. When she fucked it up.

She knew she couldn’t think like that though, and instead got into her car, fixing herself just a little in the mirror before pulling away from the redhead’s house. It might as well have been a mansion, easily double her own apartment she shared with her brother. It was almost uncanny how she, a college junior with barely enough money to support herself, was dating a woman with more than enough to support an entire family.

The worst part was how often Natasha wanted to spoil her, to buy her new lingerie or dinner or whatever else. And Wanda always turned it down. She couldn’t just take her money like that, even if it was more than useful. She felt guilty doing it and she couldn’t explain why, just that she did.

*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*

Wanda had contemplated pulling through some fast food joint, grab something for herself for dinner before going home. She knew Nat had snuck at least a 20 into her bag, if not more. There were other more important things she needed to buy with that cash, even if she hadn’t asked for or wanted it in the first place. Within twenty minutes she had pulled up to her apartment, parking on the street before texting Nat that she had safely made it home. It was nearly eight by the time she had made her way inside, tugging her backpack and purse in with her.

“Pietro? I’m home!” Wanda called into the unusually quiet house, tucking her shoes into the little cubby and her purse and jacket onto the hooks. It wasn’t much, but anything to keep the place an utter disaster, she’d do. Her backpack was hung over one of the dining table chairs. The kitchen was empty except for dirty dishes and take out wrappers, no doubt from her twin while she was gone.

“Living room!” Was all she got in return, leading her toward said room. Pietro was sitting on the couch, controller clutched in his hand and headphones pulled over his ears, clearly in the middle of a match. It was some superhero game, or maybe just some duty call or something. Whatever it was, he was clearly in the middle of a game, though he wasn’t yelling like normal.

“Were they good?” Wanda approached the pack-n-play next to the couch, cooing softly at the babies situated in it. The older of the two was seemingly grasping at his feet, though he was more focused on stuffing his knuckles into his mouth. The younger was content to shake his pacifier around.

Pietro mumbled something along the lines of “they’re babies” while she reached to pick up Tommy, situating him in her left arm before reaching for Billy. Both were happy to see her, gummy smiles pulling at their lips as she spoke sweet nothings to them. They were easy babies, happy to be around her, hardly putting up a fuss when unnecessary. It made things easier for her.

“You’re watching them from ten to noon tomorrow, right?” Wanda asked her brother as she continued towards her room, bouncing lightly with the infants. He waved her off, another mumbled confirmation as he continued to play his game, no other care in the world. She took that as the only yes she’d get, closing her door behind her. “Your uncle is crazy, you know that?” Wanda cooed to the twins, who only made noise back at her, which she took as an agreement.

The twins were fed, bathed and put to bed by ten, the thought of her day still fresh in her mind. It took everything in her to go to bed, to put her phone down and not call Nat in nothing but her pajamas. She needed to go to bed, though, if she wanted to even attempt to get to class on time. So she set her phone down, already dreaming of yet another night with the redhead, knowing she’d be up in a few hours to feed to twins.

[thatgoblin]

Summary: Two Weeks in and you're finding a rhythm of sorts with your new Alphas, but it's not without bumps.

Warnings: Some mild gendered harassment, but nothing too terrible.

~::~::~::~::~::~::~

It had been nearly two weeks since I’d come to live with John and Simon. In those two weeks we built a new routine around each other that had us dancing in sync as if we’d been living together for years. For them it might have been years, but throwing a new person into the mix would take time to get the rhythm going again with added steps. We were getting better each day though. 

It was the Sunday after the end of the second week when someone in a U-Haul drove up to the house. John had been able to contact my parents and was able to arrange for my things to be delivered. While my relationship with John and Simon was better than at the start of all of this, my relationship with my parents had crashed and burned. I still had not heard from them, via call or text or email or even snail mail, and the two men who moved my stuff across the state were old schoolmates of mine, the Walker brothers, Logan and David. 

Unfortunately. 

“Well I’ll be damned,” David, the blockier of the two, crowed as he saw me when I came out of the house. “When your parents said you went off and found yourself a pair of Alphas, I thought they had made it up just to save face.”

“I mean, half the town did anyways,” Logan, the other man that sported a crew cut, said with a chuckle. “At least now we know it’s mostly true.”

“Just shut up and unload the stuff,” I said with a sigh. There couldn’t be that much, I didn’t have a whole lot to begin with. John and Simon were out with the cattle, leaving me alone to scrub the house. I had gotten up early and began to deep clean despite them telling me I didn’t need to. The house was kept in good shape, but there were cobwebs and the floors needed mopping, not to mention the windows. I wasn’t usually such a neat freak, but something came over me and the need to clean the place was too strong to control. Simon said something about anxiety, but I wasn’t willing to look at the feeling too close, just cleaning to ease it.

“So rude still,” Logan said with a snort. “Thought your new Alphas would have taught you how to speak to others.”

“I know how to speak to people who respect me,” I hissed as David unlocked the back of the truck. “Just take the boxes to the living room and then you can go.”

“Oh, come on,” David cooed. “We’re just playing. It’s been a while since we last saw you, figured you’d have grown more into your sex rather than away from it.”

“Yeah,” Logan said as he grabbed a box from the back. “Last time we saw you, you were the only Omega to graduate high school and get any sort of college. But that didn’t last from what I heard.”

“Didn’t you get kicked out of the community college for assaulting a teacher?” David asked, moving past me and into the house. “Yeah I think you did. Didn’t you slug him when he offered a ‘special’ tutoring session? Pretty sure they had to call security to pull you off him.”

“Such a mean Omega,” Logan added as he passed by as well. “I’m surprised anyone wanted you. Your parents probably had to pay someone to take you.”

“You are all the way across the state, so I bet they didn’t tell your Alphas about how nasty an Omega you are,” David said, coming out to leer at me. 

“Just shut up and do your job. My parents didn’t pay you two needle dicks to jibber jabber like a couple of old bitties,” I snarled. My blood was boiling as I held back from throwing my fists at them. What the hell were my parents thinking in sending these assholes? Why couldn’t they have just sent a moving company? It wasn’t like I had furniture to move. Then again, my parents probably thought these two were cheaper and my resentment towards them grew.

“We’re not in school anymore,” David snapped, getting in my space. “You don’t get to get away with acting like an Alpha when you’re not one.”

“David, come on,” Logan said as he suddenly became nervous, glancing over his shoulder as I glared back at David, refusing to be cowed by him.  

“You know, you ought to have someone teach you how to address your superiors,” David growled, getting in my space more and more. “Omegas shouldn’t talk back to those above them.”

“And Alphas shouldn’t have to threaten anyone to get respect,” I snarled, not moving an inch. “You’re just a shitty guy who only knows how to get attention by being an asshole to everyone around you.”

“David, come on dude,” Logan said, pulling the other Alpha away and to the truck. “Let’s just get this shit unloaded.”

“Fine,” David growled as I stayed on the porch, glaring at them. I had been the only Omega at a rural school system and if I hadn’t been as tough and mean as I had been with everyone then I would have gotten hurt or worse. 

They finished moving the boxes as I saw John and Simon getting closer on horseback. I felt better knowing they were nearby with the other two still there. 

“You know, you’re lucky you got out of town,” David said he stopped in front of me. “You could have gotten sold to me instead,” he sneered.

“Fuck off,” I snapped, my fists clenched and aching to swing on him. “I didn’t get sold to anyone.” 

“That’s not what everyone in town is saying,” David said. “We heard you wouldn’t settle for anyone, that you were too wild. So your parents sold you to a couple of old Alphas to tame you. That they liked kinky things with Omega virgins.” Grabbing my wrist and pulling me close, he snickered in my ear as I struggled against him. He was all muscle from being on the football team back home to going straight into work at the mill tossing bags of feed. 

“Get off,” I growled, pushing back against him. Fuck, even with the work I’d been doing on my own farm and with my Alphas’ the asshole was strong. “You’re gross and never going to find anyone to like you, you fuckin’ has been!” 

“David!” Logan barked, trying to warn his brother, but it was too late. 

“Hey!” Simon snarled as he and John came running to the porch. This giant Grim Reaper looking man with black eye makeup and skeleton gloves must have looked terrifying as Logan stumbled back and David dropped my wrist. “Get your fuckin’ hands off her!” Simon didn’t even pause as he threw a punch, nailing David in the face. David was knocked on his ass, letting me go. While they all probably expected me to run and be comforted by my Alphas, I was trying to jump back on David. John had to catch me and pull me away as Simon dealt with them. 

“John, let me go!” I cried.

“No, you’re going to hurt someone or yourself,” he grunted, holding me tight around the middle. 

“I know you two were paid by her parents to deliver their stuff, but you can either get the fuck off of our property now or you’re going to wish you’d never taken this job,” Simon threatened, glaring at both the younger Alpha’s. David was holding a bloody nose and mouth as Logan looked on wide eyed. “Now!”

“Yes, sir!” Logan yelped as he grabbed David and all but ran to the truck. 

“Fuck off!” I yelled, flipping them the bird again as Logan backed the truck up then drove off down the long dirt road. 

“Love, calm down,” John said, finally letting me go. “You’re acting like a feral cat trying to fight everything.”

“You okay?” Simon asked, still tense and chest heaving from the adrenaline as he walked back over to us where we stood on the porch. He was frowning, even behind the mask I could tell, as he held out a hand to hover near me as he looked me over for any injuries. It was still giving me the space I needed while being concerned and showing it.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I said with a huff as I was let go, smoothing down my clothes. “Just pissed cause they started shit.”

“You know them?” John asked as he moved over to look at John’s fist. 

“I went to school with them. They’re mad cause I never submitted to them or anyone, so they tried to start something when they thought no one was around,” I said, looking over to the Alphas’ as John carefully cradled Simon’s hand after taking his glove off. “Did you hurt yourself?” I asked, concerned as I got close to him as well, wanting to see the damage if there was any.

“It’ll take more than just a small swing to hurt me, Sweetheart,” Simon said with a chuckle. “So long as you’re fine.” He reached out, running a hand over my hair to smooth it down while also offering comfort, but I ducked away. I wasn’t ready for that much affection yet. The most we did was pat each other on the back and grooming or cuddling them at night when we slept, but that was it. 

“I’m good. I’m gonna go unpack my stuff in my room,” I said. “Thanks for the assist.” I didn’t want a discussion over what happened or about me ducking away. Not giving them the time to call after me, I instead walked into the house to begin moving my boxes. There were almost ten boxes, but they were all mostly full of books and art supplies. I had a desk in my room where I could set up a drawing corner, but I’d have to either see about building shelves or buying them. The down side, well one of many, of being an Omega was that I didn’t really earn any money. It had all been through my dad’s name or in my new case through John and Simon’s name. 

I’d have to ask them for the money to do it, but I wouldn’t. There would be a way to figure it out and it would just take time. So the books would just have to stay in the boxes stacked against the wall. Some of the boxes were clothes that I actually needed, like my coats and thicker pants and shirts. The rest of the boxes were just stuff that I didn’t even realize I had, like little knick knacks and trinkets I had made or collected over the years. John and Simon did help carry the boxes up the stairs, but I wanted to unpack them alone. It was my stuff and with having my own room, even if I didn’t sleep in it, I wanted to put things up my way. They let me be while they went outside, respecting my wishes. 

What I hadn’t planned on was getting choked up from the items I found that were packed in one particular box. It had to have been a mistake, an accidental box put onto the truck. The last box I looked into held things I had made for my parents in school. Small clay bowls, drawings in frames, certificates of achievement. Why did they send these? Why not keep them and hang them up like they had been when I lived there? I made these for them. I wanted them to have them, to show off and be proud of what I achieved. Why give them back?

A small paper cow, something small insignificant, was the straw on the camel’s back. While John and Simon were outside with the horses or working in the garden, I was in my room, crying over a paper cow I had made for my dad on Father’s day when I was 6. I had wanted to be a rancher just like him, to take over the ranch for him, but. . . I wasn’t what he wanted. I wasn’t what either of my parents wanted. 

I threw the cow onto the ground, stomping on it as tears fell down my face, cursing my parents. When I saw the cow had torn, I stopped in a panic. 

“No, no, no,” I whimpered, picking it up. It fit in my palm, but after the stomping it was crumbled and dirty with the head hanging on by a sliver of paper. “Fuck, why do I ruin things?”

“You don’t.” I looked up from hovering over the paper animal cradled in my hands to see John standing there with a furrowed brow. “You don’t ruin things.” Coming into the room, he looked at the paper cow before taking it gently from my hand. At my desk, he found tape to carefully wrap it up and fix it. “Here,” he said as he handed it back. 

“If I don’t ruin things, why did they leave me?” I asked softly, looking down at the cow back in my hands. Sitting on the bed, I kept my bleary vision on the paper in my hand. If I looked up at John I’d start sobbing. “They didn’t want me anymore because there’s something wrong with me.”

“There’s not a thing wrong with you, Darling,” John said, sitting right next to me, pushing our shoulders together. “They just don’t know how to treat someone like you.” 

“Someone like me? Who am I like!? Some freak of nature that doesn’t know how to act like the right gender!?” I cried as I stood up, shirking away from the touch before putting the cow on the desk safely away from my angry boots. “Someone who doesn’t know how to be a good mate?! Or-or someone who doesn’t know how to be a normal person!?”

“Hey,” John said softly, standing with me. “Shhh,” he hushed me, putting a hand on my shoulder and one on my face to force me to look at him. “What I mean is that they didn’t know how to treat someone who always had to be hard on the outside. You weren’t treated right by that place or them and they didn’t realize it or want to realize it. That’s their fault, not yours.” 

“No one wants me though, not for the right reasons,” I said, breaking down into the sobs I had been trying to avoid. “They had to pay for you to take me!” 

“They didn’t pay us,” John said, stroking my hair as he pulled me close. “They didn’t pay us a cent to take you. I promise. We wanted you because of who you are, not what you are.” I clung to John, gripping his shirt tight as I buried my face into his chest with heaving sobs. He didn’t leave or try to push me away, only held me and stroked my hair while whispering reassurances to me like I was Ollie after a long ride. While I probably would have been upset that he was using his horse voice on me if I was more aware, at that moment I appreciated it. I didn’t get that from my parents, the comforting touches as I cried over mean kids from school or a skinned knee from climbing trees. 

The affection and love that I should have gotten from them was given to me by Simon and John, even if it was only small touches and soft words. I didn’t know how to deal with it as it was so foreign to me. By the time that I had calmed down enough to hiccups with red, puffy eyes, Simon had come in from the garden and it was lunch time. John had me lay down with a cool, wet cloth over my face as he and Simon went about getting food for themselves. I imagined John explained what had happened because after I calmed down and felt more at ease, I was back to deep cleaning and rearranging. Simon came back in to give me a shoulder squeeze and tell me I was doing a good job, that he was proud of me. 

I started crying again at that, earning a panicked look from Simon. He quickly apologized and left, leaving me with my need to clean still there but more weepy. Finished with the house deep cleaning, supper was ready. John had made pizza from scratch and made sure to clean up as best he could as I had finished the kitchen earlier in the day. Showered first that night, I made sure the two men gave me their dirty clothes so I could get them in with the rest of the laundry later. 

When it was time to settle down for the night, in our usual spots on the couch in front of the TV, the Alphas took their usual spots while I surprised them. Instead of going to the floor next to Simon’s feet, I curled up against John on the couch, sitting between the two. Both looked at me wide eyed as I pressed to his side, even raising his arm myself to wrap around me. They didn’t say anything though, knowing I’d most likely growl and pull away. 

Maybe John was right. I was a feral cat. 

“Can we go to town tomorrow?” I asked, keeping my eyes on the TV. “I wanna get some shelves for my books or to get stuff to make shelves.” Also something new. I didn’t ask for anything. I didn’t take anything either. Unless I needed it, I didn’t bring it up. 

“I’m sure we can arrange that, Sweetheart,” John said as he rubbed my legs, his hand having found its way there. “What time do you wanna go?”

“After morning chores,” I said, looking at the two Alphas. “I can do some extra work to pay for them, if you want me to.”

“Don’t worry about a thing,” John said with a chuckle. “You want shelves, we’ll get you all the shelves you want.” He reached out again, like earlier in the day, to stroke my hair. This time I didn’t pull away. I leaned into it even, practically purring. The rest of the night was spent like that. Curled up against one another till it was time for bed, only moving to continue holding one another under the covers. 

The next morning, I was thrumming with excitement. While John and Simon went about their normal speeds of getting up and having their coffee, I was already dressed and making breakfast. They didn’t hide the smiles on their faces as they watched me buzz around like a hummingbird. It was the first time I’d been excited for something since I’d arrived at the ranch. For shelves no less. 

When morning chores were done and everyone had washed up, I was already in the big pick up truck waiting. “Come on, boys! We’re burning daylight!” I called, giving a few honks. 

“It’s 9 AM! We’ve got plenty of time to go by the store,” John called back from the porch as Simon laughed. 

“You don’t know that! There could be a major shortage of shelves!” I said as they walked over. John shooed me to the middle as he got in the driver’s seat and Simon got in the passenger side. It would also be my first trip to town. All I knew of it was that it was small like my hometown and was probably almost the same, just in a different configuration. The drive there wasn’t short, almost half an hour, but it didn’t kill my mood. In fact, I was still bouncing in my seat as John parked in front of a small furniture store. 

“Now, just keep calm and hold one of our hands at all times,” John said as he helped me from the truck.

“Wait what?” I asked. The calm part I could get, but holding a hand? 

“They’re older folks and it’s just easier to let them die with their ways instead of fighting with them,” Simon said, his gloved fingers weaving with mine as he stepped next to me. “We’ll get your shelves, don’t worry about that.”

“Okay. . . I guess,” I said. Holding Simon’s hand, we walked into the store to begin looking around. It was full of nice things, maybe a bit dated, but nice. I didn’t want anything too heavy or too expensive, just something to hold books. 

“Howdy folks! What can I do ya for?” An older man asked, seemingly coming from nowhere. It spooked me enough I ran into Simon when the balding man spoke up. Simon chuckled softly, keeping me on my feet and from crashing into anything else.

“Hello,” John said with a wave. “We’re looking for a couple of shelves.”

“Three sets,” I said, but didn’t get too excited. I was actually trying to listen to John. 

“What the little lady said, three sets of shelves,” John said, chuckling.

“I am a little lady,” I said under my breath with a smirk, getting a snort from Simon.

“Well come on over here, we’ve got all kinds of shelves to pick from. You folks have anything in mind?” The salesman asked. “I’m Bill, by the way, pleasure to meet you all.”

“Pleasure,” John said as we followed, introducing us. “What kind of shelves are we looking for, Sweetheart?”

“We are looking for shelves to hold books and knick knacks,” I said. “Nothing fancy, just the capacity to hold things and not break.”

“Alright, it sounds like the little lady knows what she wants,” Bill said with a laugh.

“That she does,” John said, smiling softly at me. 

“Here we have some nice ones that come in a dark finish. They’re solid oak, not particle board so they’ll be good to hand down through the generations,” Bill said as he showed us the first set. Then there was another set almost exactly like that one, just in a different shade. In fact all the shelves he showed us were basically the same thing, just in a different shade. Looking at the prices I couldn’t help making the faces I did. I looked from the price tag to John and Simon with wide eyes. $500 a piece. 

“Uh, do you have anything cheaper?” I asked, looking over to Bill. He glanced at me, but kept his focus on John and Simon. 

“You gentlemen wanna look at something cheaper or stick with something that’s a sure thing?” Bill asked. Did he just ignore me?! Simon squeezed my hand to remind me to stay calm. We were in town and fighting with a sales person was not something to end well. I grasped his hand with both of mine to keep myself in control. 

“Let’s look at something cheaper. She wasn't wanting to drop $1,500 on shelves today and I don’t blame her,” John said. 

“Oh I’m sure we can find something that y’all would like,” Bill said, taking us to a different section of the store. There we found cheaper shelves to put up, but they weren’t exactly what I wanted. They were still expensive for what they were and I just couldn’t justify spending so much money on them when I wasn’t even the one paying for them.

“I don’t really see anything I like,” I said, trying to be as polite as possible as I looked over each shelf. “Maybe we can try a different place.”

“Oh, hold on now,” Bill said with a chuckle. “I’m sure that me and your mates could come to a decision for ya on price. I mean, you don’t want some simple shelving units that’ll fall apart in a few months if you decide to redecorate the house.”

“It’s not for the house, it’s for my room,” I said, locking a glare on Bill. “They’re not my mates either.”

“Let’s just go,” Simon said quietly, already smelling the distinct scent of me getting riled up. He was trying to usher us away, but Bill had to open his mouth. 

“You oughta keep your Omega in line there,” Bill said to John, shaking his head as Simon tried to pull me away by my hand. “They need to be taught to be more respectful.”

“What’d you say!?” I cried, letting go of Simon to turn on my heel to face a suddenly surprised Bill. “You wanna talk about respect, actually listen to your customers no matter who they are, ya walking Rogaine Ad looking ass!” I snarled. Simon already wrapped an arm around my middle to drag me away as John followed, both looking panicked. Whether it was over getting kicked out of the store or me unleashing my wrath or both, they wanted out of there.

“Why don’t you boys come back without them and I’m sure we could work something out without a hormonal Omega actin’ up,” Bill said. That made them pause. The men looked at each other then to me as I practically frothed at the mouth. 

“Better watch out, Bill,” Simon said, letting me go with a smirk. “She’s feral.” That was all the permission I needed before I marched right up to Bill who went white as a sheet. 

“You wanna act like I don’t exist or have feelings, fine! But you don’t get to publicly shame me because of my gender, got it Bill!” I snapped, jabbing a finger into his chest. “You’re just a snub nose asshat that’s more concerned about what’s in someone’s pants than actually getting a sale and you have the balls to get huffy at me for calling you out on it!? Maybe there’d be more people in here if you didn’t over-price your 1950’s shabby decor and act like a pias jackwagon by alienating your customers! Next time you see me, you better act like a decent person instead of some bigoted, capitalist pig that doesn’t care about anybody but himself, ya hear!?” Bill was silent as I had backed him in a literal corner of one of his sectionals with my ‘Omega hormones’.

“Yes, of course,” he said, nodding and shaking. 

“Good, now we’ll take the dark stained oak shelves for $200 a piece. That’s more than what they’re worth,” I said, crossing my arms in front of me as Simon and John moved to stand behind me. 

“Of course, right away,” Bill nodded. I stepped to the side to let him pass, not paying mind to anyone else in the store who was watching. Not that there were many to begin with. I marched with my men behind me to the register where John handed over the money with a smirk on his face. In a matter of 20 minutes we were loaded up and headed home. While neither John nor Simon said a word, I felt pleased with myself. 

At home, we unloaded the shelves and hauled them to my room. Once they were set up, I let them help me unpack the last of my boxes. Books and sketch pads all fit perfectly how I wanted them to and even had some help with Simon setting things on the tippy top as well. 

Finished, we stepped back to admire our work. I couldn’t stop grinning as I stood there next to the Alphas, all of us hot and sweaty from the moving of the large shelves, but satisfied. I did that. I didn’t compromise who I was or what I could do and I got what I wanted. The boys probably got what they wanted too, which I knew was not the shelves. My arms wound around their waists to pull them close for hugs; allowing me to scent them slightly to claim them as my own. They were my pack and I was theirs. 

John was the first to scent me back, rubbing his cheek against my head followed by Simon. I didn’t pull away either. It was the first time in a long time that I felt lighter. That instead of heaving my own baggage along with others’ doubts, stereotypes, and sexism alone, I had help. I had my pack. An honest to god pack of my own that no one could take from me. 

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[nashusglasses]

2. i'll work it physical (m)

+ based off nsfw prompts: 28.  “I’ll make it worth your time.” & 15.  “Wanna bet?”

read: part one

note: I am a glutton for horny idiot stories. Even better when they feed off each other’s energy so bad it’s just like…. Constant enabling. GOADING. That’s the word!!!! I listened to loveeeeeee song by rihanna the whole time writing this if ur into that :3

note 2: This fic is just pure indulgence of oc and gojo's party sexcapades before all those *feelings* get involved heheheheh

PAIRING. gojo/reader SETTING. college au WARNINGS. stupid ex girlfriends, good ol' fashioned fingerbang in a bathroom SUMMARY. He’ll make you forget about her.

You didn’t cry when Emi broke up with you. She was always taciturn, and it’s not as if you were completely blindsided, either. You’ve always had a nose for disinterest. She’d stopped responding to your good night texts those last few weeks you were together, kept canceling Wednesday cafe dates where you’d play footsies to distract her from doing homework. Maybe you’d reached a threshold. Footsied her to annoyed oblivion, but she always laughed whenever you did it. 

Throwing away an almost-one year relationship, though. You couldn’t lie through the sting in your eyes when you got back to your dorm that night. Not when Natsume’s a nosy bitch who has to know every minute detail of your life. You collapsed into a fit of half-sobs because you refused to be too distraught over someone who couldn’t find the time for you anymore. That’s lazy, Natsume said into your hair. You always liked when she petted your head for comfort. She let you sleep next to her while you wallowed in post-break up misery. I’ll punch her the next time I see her.

That was two months ago. Two months since you’ve seen Emi’s dyed-blonde head, the pretty dimples that came with her smile. It changes tonight.

Sigma Phi is never cheap with their ragers. Neither you or Natsume are in a sorority but you’d be dumb to miss out on sponsored alcohol and free cool ranch Doritos. The house is the tallest on Greek row, all high ceilings and shiny wooden banisters. The kitchen is where you keep comfortable. Away from the strawberry smoke, sticky floors everywhere you take a step. You’re waiting for Satoru to get you your soju when you see Emi walk through the front door.

Her roots are growing out. She’s got glitter on her eyelids, a shiny neck with the scented oil she uses because she’s always hated using perfume. If you step close enough you know she’ll smell like rose petals. Like the sailor’s bewitched limbs twitching with every sweet note of that siren’s song, you’re almost taking a step forward to follow her further into this stupid loud party.

As if he’s cued, Satoru gets in the way with two red cups in hand. “No yogurt soju so I got orange instead. Mixed it with orange soda so it’s ultra mega orange shit. Why the hell are you tiptoeing? You’re like two feet tall.”

“Shut up.” You make a grab for the cup he offers you, tipping back a generous gulp for a show of thanks. “It’s—I saw someone. I think.”

He swivels around. “Who?”

“My ex.” You almost flinch at the term. Moreso at the thought of Satoru calling you bitchless than having lost someone you genuinely cared for.

“Didn’t know you had one.” His eyebrows are furrowed with confusion, leaning back against the counter. He flicks an annoyed hand at the stale chips scattered everywhere. 

“It’s. Yeah. She wasn’t really around to show face towards the end, so.”

“What’s her name?” 

You could think of a million but you don’t feel like spitting venom. You’ve got your distraction for the night. You hope Satoru notices you’re wearing your shortest skirt. “Emi.”

“Emi? Utada Emi or Hirano Emi?”

“The first one.” How he knows more than one is beyond you. Satoru hums at your confirmation.

“She’s in my aerodynamics class,” he says. “What happened?”

“I don’t—I don’t really wanna talk about her.” Because if you do, you’ll probably start thinking about how she made your pillows smell good with that fresh linen scent. Or how she left you little origami cranes on your desk. Or the way she sounded in the morning with drool stuck to her chin—

“Oi.” Satoru snaps his fingers in front of your face. “You good? Sorry I asked.”

“It’s fine. Or. Not really. Whatever.” You finish your drink with record speed. Anxiety crawls through your chest, makes you wonder what the hell Emi could be doing here. Or who she could be doing here. Suddenly you think about an empty room, her clumsy feet traipsing up those carpeted stairs. Looking at someone else with doe eyes like she did when she wanted you on top of her. You crush the red plastic in your hand.

“Satoru,” you say blankly. 

He’s not even halfway done his drink. “Uh huh.”

“Do you know how to make a girl come in five minutes?”

“Depends.” He levels you with a curious stare. Like he’s bracing himself for whatever you’ve got for a challenge. “Can I use my hands?”

“Whatever body part you want.”

“Then yes. Who’s asking?”

“Wha–who the hell else?” You hiss. “You finishing that?”

Satoru looks down at his cup, then back up at you. And when he doesn’t immediately respond you just swipe at his hand to guzzle down the ultra mega orange shit. It’s not half-bad. A sweetness easy to swallow, not like the Casamigos he took with Suguru earlier. 

You let the dizziness settle. Satoru stares you down. “I’ll do it in two,” he says. “Wanna bet?”

It’s cryptic. And then you remember what you asked him. You squirm with the heavy suggestion. 

“Bathroom,” you order, and Satoru leads the way first.

Natsume’s sitting pretty at the bottom step of the stairs. She’s got a blunt pinched gently in her mouth, lights up with her inhale when she sees you. She dims into gossip when you come up to her. “Oh my god. Did you see–”

You nod, not that keen on hearing her name when you’re off to forget it. Satoru skips past and up two steps at a time with nothing more than a hey roomie. Natsume’s mouth quirks up in acknowledgment.

“Don’t scream too loud. Or do anyway. I can’t feel my fucking fingers from the music.” 

She slaps your ass when you pass her. “Take a shot with me after,” you call. Natsume winks. Satoru’s got the bathroom door wide open for you to walk through when you catch up.

For a frat, the space is clean. No nasty caulk jobs and the toilet paper holder’s actually full. You’ve got no time for more analysis when Satoru slams you against the door. “Jesus,” you groan.

He swallows what little else you have for complaint. His mouth is sweet on yours, coaxing your tongue for taste. “Nice skirt by the way.”

Satoru’s hands are greedy where they pull. Cupped under your jaw, teasing a touch on either side of your tits, then right down to your ass where he squeezes. Hard. 

“Keep going,” you mumble. Biting down on his lip when he grips you tighter, and you feel the coarse rut of his boner when he presses you harder against the door. “God. Get me wet.”

“I’ll make it worth your time.” He breathes wet kisses on your neck. Sucking deep till you twitch in simmering pleasure. 

“You fuckin’ better.”

He sneers in response. But he kisses you like he’s just as electrified. Needy for whatever high he’s promising to deliver on, and you want it fast. He juts into you, lifts your leg around his hip just to get the angle right. 

“Okay. Fuck–just.” You take his hand, fit it snug where your panties ride up on your pussy. He laughs against your teeth.

“Get me wet,” he mocks, playing with the arousal you just denied. You blush. Desperate measures. You’re glad your body responds to his this quick. Only to your detriment, because he knows you’re terrible at bluffing, and now he’s laughing at you. “You’re funny. Two minutes?”

He circles your clit with a rough finger. Too much, not enough. In the haze of your muddled head, the visual is enough to spark that heat. You’ve always liked his hands. There’s something about seeing it disappear under your skirt, like you’ve got something to hide. You offer a moan when he teases a finger inside.

Satoru leans a hot mouth into your ear. “Your girl ever get you like this?”

Your eyes are wide open. From his provocation, and now he’s got one finger snug up your pussy. “Oh my god.”

“You don’t need to answer,” he teases. “I know she didn’t.”

“You–” He sets a slow rhythm. Deep where it counts, grinding the palm of his hand till you moan from your chest. “You’re evil.”

Again. He knows you’re bluffing. That wet sound every time he moves is proof enough. You’re just talking because you’re not embarrassed anymore. You’ll let him have his way with it if it means you don’t have to think about anything else.

“Don’t be shy,” he prods.

Another finger, this time with less drive. You buzz from the intrusion. Knocking your head back on the door when he bottoms out, absolutely not shy with the sounds you’re making. Satoru kisses you into muted excitement. 

You don’t think he’s timing it. You sure as hell aren’t. As if you were ever scared he wouldn’t deliver. “Go faster,” you urge. This is probably one of the only two bathrooms available for use. You could at least taint it quicker than anyone else can.

“Cute. I like when you’re bossy.” You initiate a kiss this time. Slipping tongue and an indulgent moan down his throat, and that’s what spurs him on. 

His drive is back. Drawing out more wetness with earnest fingering, the guttural noises straight from your gut. Your eyes roll back with the feeling, heat unfurling faster than the blood trying to reach your fucked out brain. 

“Fuck, oh my god.” Your fingers curl into his biceps. “That's–yeah, oh my god I’m. Close–!”

He crowds you in again, forehead on your sweaty one. Nothing to say, letting your panting do all the talking for the both of you. His fingers hook into every wet spot, ramming the edge of his hand on your clit till it’s battered into ultra-sensitivity. You twitch with his every move. 

“You better fuckin’ come over tonight,” Satoru groans. You’ll look down at that hard dick later. You know he’s fostering the pain with quiet lips. How considerate. 

“W-Whatever. Yes I’ll–just–oooh fuck.” He’s jacked the speed to eleven. No more pretense of easing you into it. The sound is enough to get you off, wet thrust for wet thrust. “Satoru,” you whine.

He kisses your nose. “Hmm?”

“If I squirt it’s on you,” you warn.

“You say that like a threat.” He shows no sign of stopping, too. He’s impatient with anticipation, and you’re fading fast. “You’ll give it to me?”

You were kidding. Sort of. It’s not off the table. All you know is the heat is building and you’re about to explode. “Ye-es!”

“So do it,” he presses. 

He curls his fingers with every sharp jut against your core. You hang your head low, letting that high come to you, and you unfurl with the release. Shaking through a tiring orgasm, clawing tight on Satoru while you squeal. “Oh fuck.”

He’s relentless with the come down. Drawing out those waves with taut fingers, focusing deep. You don’t squirt but his wrist is disgustingly wet. 

“You’re hot,” he says when you drop your leg. You slump against him with a groan. “Look. Prune fingers.”

You don’t look but you know he’s wiggling them. Always in awe with what he can do to you when you’re down for it. You’ll let him bask in your orgasmic glory, because you’re just as good as getting him undone.

“Yeah yeah. Let’s get back, I wanna see Natsume before we leave.”

You shift your skirt till it's decently covering your ass again. Satoru washes his hands. You both ignore the bulge in his sweatpants.

Then someone knocks on the door.

You think you’ve always believed in fate. Some cosmic divinity keeping a watchful eye on whatever energy waves you’re spreading out into the universe. Because when Satoru opens the door for you, it’s Emi, and she’s looking disheveled, but not in a good way.

A pang of sympathy echoes in your chest. Your fingers twitch forward, already thinking of how to move her hair behind her ear.

Satoru beats you to a greeting.

“You look like shit,” he jests.

Emi ignores him. Stares right at you, and your breath stutters. You’re not as taken by her beauty, this time. Not when she shot you down, dug her heel into your heart, got it all muddy. You grab Satoru's hand. He doesn’t say anything when you curl your fingers into his.

“Take care of yourself,” is all you croak out. This time, it’s you leaving her behind.

Natsume’s gone from her bottom perch. You don’t feel like finding her anymore. Satoru keeps you close to him when you walk back downstairs.

He stops you when you don’t stop walking towards the front door. For the second time tonight, he asks: “You good?”

You shake your head. “No. But we’re going back to your place. Distract me some more.”

Satoru’s smile is wicked in its suggestion. “I can do that,” he confirms.

He doesn’t let go of your hand the whole way back to his dorm.

[synthetictorii]

Don't Worry ✧ Aizawa Shōta

Pairing: Eraserhead/Aizawa Shōta x reader Genre: angst/comfort Summary: Anxiety is keeping you awake and Shōta can’t sleep alone. Word count: 2.5k A/N: ...obligatory old and cringey fic ahead warning...

Gentle breeze was blowing through the night, ruffling your hair. Your sleepwear didn’t stand a chance against the freezing chill of the night but it kept you grounded. You mind never managed to stray far from reality, always harshly chased from the impossibilities by another cold blow. The wind’s hostile embrace was soothing in a way. Besides, how could you be disturbed by something so trivial as cold when there was perfectly clear starry sky above you? Each star was shining bright just like a diamond.

It was a magical night, silent and peaceful. No traffic, no voices on the streets. As if everyone except you was asleep. Standing on the balcony, you felt like a queen of this serene world. And as with every monarch, while everything was enveloped with calmness, your mind certainly was not. It was replaying memories in an endless loop, occasionally throwing in some of your deepest fears. This mix of unpleasantness made you anxious enough to make you restless, unable to fall asleep. You’d toss and turn pointlessly. There was nothing you could do but hope the feeling will soon fade away or that your body will get so exhausted it will ignore your inner turmoil. The chill of the night at least helped to keep you somewhat sane. Before your situation could come to an end, however, you heard quiet footsteps. Another lone wanderer in the silent night.

So he found you, you smiled to yourself. A pair of arms wrapped around your waist; a little warning before his full weight dropped on you gently. You didn’t understand how he did it but he always noticed without a fail when you were absent from his side. He always came looking for you and then he’d lean against you. It was his way to assure himself you were really there. Even if he was heavy you were grateful for the silly gesture. It made you feel loved. Today it was yet another things to soothe you.

“Come to bed,” he grumbled into your hair. You removed one of your hands from the railing to put it on top of his.

“I’ll come soon darling, I promise,” you were stroking his forearm slowly. You knew how worried he got when you were not near when he woke up. A quiet hum was his only response. He was enjoying your touch. You knew even without his affirmation. He was a strange man – quiet and sometimes distant; all in the name of saving energy. But he was soft inside – that much was clear to you, and he needed reassurance as much as you did.

For a while everything was quiet again, his breathing barely noticeable. You weren’t sure if he was asleep or not, neither of the possibilities would surprise you. You wouldn’t mind. He needed his sleep after all his hard work. Teaching at UA during the day, patrolling the streets at night… no wonder he needed to utilize every free minute to sleep. Suddenly he let out a yawn.

“Why can’t you sleep?” he asked, still groggy.

“I’m just thinking about stuff, don’t worry,” you answered more calmly than you actually felt, squeezing his hand lightly. You knew he would continue asking until he figured out what the problem was but still hoped that tonight he’d just let it go.  

“Is it about the morning?” he turned his face so his voice wouldn’t be muffled by your hair anymore. To your surprise there wasn’t even a hint of annoyance in it like you suspected would be the case. You let the silence answer in your place. He exhaled deeply and turned both of you around. Now he was leaning on the railing with his back and you lying against his chest, looking into his black, very tired eyes. It never ceased to fascinate you how agile he was even only half awake.

Truth to be told, this morning was probably the final trigger that caused all this. You’ve felt your anxiety getting worse for about a while now and you knew Shōta noticed. You assured him it was alright, he let it be then since it wasn’t as bad as to interfere with your everyday life and you promised him you’ll take care of yourself. He trusted you to deal with your issues on your own, if you could. Should you need help, you knew you could reach out to him. It was another reason you loved him – the way you could trust him to be your safety net.

Then he didn’t come home last night. He didn’t even send you a text and you were not able to reach his phone. You broke down, anxiety taking the better of you. Instead of trying to call his colleagues, you spent the whole night crying, walking in circles aimlessly and watching the hands on the clock moving minute at a time, feeling your sanity slipping away.

Around six in the morning he finally showed up to get ready for work. You had a huge fight – although he apologized and explained the situation to you: he had been so exhausted he doubted he would make it home without passing out so he stayed over at Hizashi’s place. Simple enough. Not the first time it happened. But today it didn’t calm your anger.

Nonetheless, he had to leave for work. So your distress was fuelled with uncertainty about his feelings and what would happen next. You had a chance to cool your head at least and realize you overreacted. Still, you needed closure – more throughout than a quick apology on both sides before bed as was the case today. He always comes home so late, so exhausted. You swallowed your emotions and dropped it – after all, it was all good. His health and rest was more important to you. Due to that, your guilt had time to rest and grow deeper which only made you feel worse. This is exactly why you always tried to talk things through under any circumstances.

“I’m so sorry, Shōta,” you cupped his cheek, stirring in his hold, “I shouldn’t have taken my stress out on you.” you stroked his cheekbone gently. He shook his head and pulled you closer, one hand firmly around your waist and the other on the back of your head.

“It’s alright, I was an ass for not letting you know,” he kissed the top of your head. You hummed and breathed in his scent. Some people have blankets to calm them, you had Shōta. The warmth of his body helped you focus and think clearly. With him, you were safe. Your hero.

“What got you so worried lately?” he asked, rubbing the small of your back in comforting circles. He let you pull away just enough to be able to look at him. There was concern in his gaze. Only with you was he so open with his emotions. You raised your hand again, this time to play with his messy hair, watching how the little curls hugged your fingers. You needed a while to think through what you were going to say. He gave you time, as patient as ever.

“I’m just worried,” you sighed. There was no way you could manage to organize everything that was on your mind into neat little sentences. “Ever since the criminality began to rise and you are on patrols more often I just can’t stay calm until you come home. I’m sorry, I know it’s not rational,” you looked away. “And with the USJ attack, the camp and…,” you trailed off. You didn’t want to think about any of the events. It was too painful. The scar under his eyes made you flinch every time you saw it. You brought your hand up to his face and dragged your fingers over the rough skin. His orbital floor got shattered that day. He could’ve lost his sight, ability… he could’ve died.

“I just don’t want to lose you,” you whispered with tears burning threatening to spill from your eyes. You buried your face into his chest and he used this opportunity to stroke your hair. Your breathing was fast as panic began to take over. You wouldn’t let it. Instead you focused on the cold air of the night, the burning sensation in your lungs with every breath you took. The soft material of his shirt and the firmness of his chest underneath it. His hands in your hair and support of his body.

He gave you time to calm down, still gently caressing your back and hair. Soon after you started dating he realized that if you were to be reasoned with, you needed to be calm. He waited for your breathing to slow down before talking.

“There’s no reason for you to apologize,” he assured you, his voice kind. It was like honey, soothing the aches. “I understand why you’re worried. Hell if that Nomu thing hurt you like he did to me, you wouldn’t be allowed to leave the house,” he was serious and you knew it but it still made you chuckle. You turned your head to side, his heart right under your ear. It was beating faster than usual. Finally you were beginning to feel better.

“I know you’re hero and all, but wouldn’t it be fair for you to also stay home more then?” you piped in quietly, playing with the hem of his shirt. His hold got little stronger, pulling you close enough for him to kiss your temple. A quiet apology.

“I can’t and you know it, [y/n],” he said. “I want to make sure you’re safe, that the streets are safe for you and everyone else. Every hero is needed if we want to stabilize the situation.”

You of course knew it was true. The news talked every day about the rising crime wave. All Might was done. Sure they needed every hero possible to patrol the streets. Shōta was strong, his quirk as well, he was truly a hero both in ability and heart but he was your boyfriend as well and you couldn’t imagine what would you do should something happen to him again. Let alone something worse than the USJ.

Still, the situation in your relationship needed a solution too; one that would both keep you calm and would bother him. It wasn’t easy to live with hero but for Shōta, you’d try your best to think of something.

“Couldn’t you at least work during the day? I might feel better,” you snuggled closer. You momentarily forgot the obvious, didn’t realize the only possible answer.

“My job at U.A., [y/n],” he reminded you, “It’s not like the principal can shift all of my lessons to the afternoon. And unfortunately, they all have potential so I can’t kick them out,” there was a hint of pride in his voice. You chuckled, it was so very unlike him. Then again, he was a softie. You hoped the students realized that their teacher was the best of them all.

“Then maybe a sidekick?” you suggested but his annoyed groan was enough for an answer. “Or maybe another hero to be your partner?”

The hope in your voice was killing him inside. He knew you were trying to come up with a solution but he wasn’t sure if there was one. He sighed and cupped your cheek so you’d look up at him.

“How many friends I have? Ones that I could tolerate every other day.”

You laughed a bit and hung your head in defeat. He smiled slightly as well, again pulling you close. He had to admit that he didn’t consider the option of a partner before but it was no good. Even if there was a person he’d be willing to partner up with, it didn’t suit his way of work at all.

“Mic!” you suddenly jumped, almost hitting his chin with your head. “You have Hizashi! I’m sure he wouldn’t mind teaming up with you,” you smiled at him, ignoring the annoyed twitching of his eyebrow.

“No.” He said simply. “I can’t work with him, he’s too obnoxious.”

“Yet you’re still friends,” you pouted, “besides your quirks could work wel-” you didn’t have a chance to finish since your boyfriend suddenly connected your lips with his. A crystal clear message: just shut up. You tried pushing him away lightly, giggling. Finally he grabbed your hands and pecked your lips. He didn’t move away, your foreheads resting against each other.

“But really, try it please? It doesn’t have to be forever, just till the situations calm somewhat?” you gave him your best kitty-eyed look. He sighed deeply and stayed quiet, his eyes closed. You let him think about it without saying a word. He’d told you that they worked together before so maybe he’d agree for old time’s sake? He wouldn’t, you knew. Because as much as it would calm your nerves it would interfere with his work. It wasn’t how he worked – he was fine the way he was, changing anything wouldn’t be rational.

“At least promise you’ll always call for help if you see serious trouble – and wait till it comes. Don’t start something you can’t finish,” you whispered, not happy, but at least at peace. Nothing more could be done. To this proposal he could, and did, agree. You smiled and squeezed him too, gently nuzzling into his chest.

“Thank you,” you murmured. He hugged you with a little smile. He’d never want to make you upset. If possible, he would do anything to not worry you. Yet it wasn’t realistic, as much as it pained him. You’ll worry for him time and time again, till one of you inevitably dies. Maybe you’ll get fed up and leave him. That was a possibility – rationally speaking, it was almost bound to happen. Only in this case, he’d ignore the odds.

“Let’s get back to sleep now, alright?” he asked with a kiss to your hair.

You gave him a small nod. You felt relieved and happy now, peaceful enough to fall asleep. Of course it didn’t mean that Shōta would be safe but it made you feel a bit better. With the problem solved, you felt your eyelids getting heavy and mind quiet. When you reached the bedroom, he tucked you in and soon joined you under the covers. He lay on his side, facing you to admire your now relaxed features.

“Will you hold me please?” you asked sheepishly, snuggling to his body. He was always so warm, you wondered if the energy from his naps was all transformed into the warmth. That would explain his constant exhaustion. You were really falling asleep quick, thinking about silly things. Instead of answering, he simply put his arms around you. Your legs became a tangled mess almost instantly.

“Good night, love,” he whispered, kissing you deeply, gently, but the kiss carried also a message of “everything will be alright”.

“Sleep well, I love you,” you whispered and a smile stretched on your face when you felt his lips lazily mouth the answer against your skin as he too fell asleep.

[my-pjo-stuff]

HEY DID U KNOW THAT THERES GONNA BE A NEW TOTAN ARMY OC IN THE TV SHOW!!?!!!

her name is Alison and the description is

"she went to Camp Half-Blood in her youth, but now lives in the mortal world"

Also the casting call is for actresses 18-22yrs old so how old do you think she's gonna be in cannon? im think in late teenager in her first appearance

Also what are your thoughts on the TV show? i like it so far, and i think that it is taking a much more jaded approach. It's leaning more heavily on the "gods are awful" bit and i think it's gonna be different but still awesome

To be quite honest, I have mixed feelings about the show.

Ireally like what they did with Luke and the changes they made to thale confrontation at the end! That shot of Luke’s face with these watery eyes was GOLDEN. It's my personal favorite scene, really shows he isn't a total villain and actually VERY sympathetic.

I just love the Luke scenes in general.

But I disliked the changes they made with the pearls- mostly because personally I just found it unnecessary yk ?

Another thing I disliked (probably the main thing I disliked) is Percy missing the deadline. Mostly because I just think it makes Poseidon and the gods look to good????

Like, to me a core thing of PJO is how shitty the gods actually are. INCLUDING Poseidon (If you really think about it). I don't think him giving up for Percy was really in-character for him.

I do enjoy the conflict it could bring with Luke though, where Percy only gets to really see the good side of his godly parent and thus can’t really understand Luke and his group. Thus we can have a Percy who has that slow realization over the course of the show.

I’m not sure what to think of how the show did Hermes. That whole talk about him being unable to get to Luke because of his fate or whatever….eh. Personally to me that's just a load of bullcrap and excuses- I really hope the show reveals and treats it like that too and doesn't try to make Hermes innocent.

Because frankly said? Luke was comically easy to prevent had Hermes just not sucked SO MUCH.

Like yeah Poseidon advised him not to go but A)Poseidon broke his how much advice with Percy, so it’s canon that Hermes didn’t HAVE to stay away, and B) how could Hermes genuinely apologizing and showing care for Luke and May have POSSIBLY made it worse?

So yeah, pretty mixed bag for me. I like some, I dislike some- I’ll definitely watch S2 though!

As for Alison, I honestly assume she’ll be around the same age as Luke. Possibly as a love interest for him?

Personally I don’t really care much what she’s gonna be exactly, I’m just excited for more Titan Army content!

I’m hoping we’ll get more focus on them in the show, especially when we throw Alison into the mix. The books sadly had the TA quite underdeveloped, which I hope the show can fix.

But honestly? I’m happy if they keep up the Luke scenes to the same quality they were so far. Real 10/10.

[smashy-headcanons]

So I watched the Super Mario Movie finally

(Actually I watched it on and off with some friends but wanted to wait until I saw the full thing until I said anything. Also at the time of posting it's actually been like a month and a half oops.)

This does mean that I'll be allowing posts about it (I will make sure to tag spoilers tho).

Many excitements, many concerns, all questions finally answered (for now). Of course, I have many thoughts. Sooo, dump time!

I consider the movieverse to be an AU rather than directly tying to the game universe. Yoshi's Island supports the idea of Mario and Luigi being born in the Mushroom Kingdom (or that universe, anyways) while the movie has them living in a more realistic setting.

As we expected, Jack Black as Bowser? 👌

I originally thought that there would be multiple power stars instead of just the one, and that Bowser would be going kingdom to kingdom to collect them. I feel like it wasn’t given as much importance as it probably should have gotten.

SMB Super Show theme makes a return! They’re really pulling stuff from everywhere.

Just so I don’t sound like a broken record I’ll only say it once. The role for Mario should’ve gone to Charles Martinet. Pratt wasn’t grating but it really did just sound like Just Some Guy the whole time. I get Mario is our isekai protagonist but come on.

Following up on that thought: Good fucking lord the “do you think the accents were a bit much” line pissed me off SO much. Poking fun at your franchise is one thing, but announcing the first movie for the franchise in 30 years, giving the titular character’s voice cast to a guy who sounds nothing like him for the sake of Big Name Actor instead of to his original voice actor, telling people upset at the choice to essentially shut the fuck up, and THEN proceeding to joke about the— Jesus Christ I can’t type this anymore. On to the rest of the review.

Ohhh my god the Bros.' relationship is SO good in this movie. Luigi's adoration of his bro, Mario's adoration but also embarrassment at Luigi bringing up their mom, Mario IMMEDIATELY getting ready to throw hands for Luigi's honor, their MUTUAL protectiveness towards each other, it's all just *chef's kiss*.

When they announced Spike as a character I didn't think it was going to be Foreman Spike from Wrecking Crew (good reference tho) I thought Spike was going to be this thing

As unexpected as it came to me, I actually really liked them making Mario the underdog of the family. It adds motive to Mario's eagerness to be Helpful and gives him a good reason to stay in the Mushroom Kingdom at the end. I can also see this attitude shifting to Luigi in the sequel.

Pauline cameo hell yeah.

I actually like Toad in this movie--both his voice AND his role.

I love that they made the Dry Bones so... eerie. I would've liked to see some sentience from them (at least in a later scene), but I can understand that doing so would likely take away from the eeriness.

If you wanna see Mario being a pathetic wet paper towel then you will enjoy this movie.

I have... mixed feelings about this version of Peach. On one hand, I love that she's taking a more proactive role and that we get to see her as both a ruler and protector of the Toads. On the other hand, I'm. not particularly fond of how she treats Mario in the first half. Peach as a character has been defined by amicability and kindness towards both new and familiar people from the beginning, so her initial rudeness doesn't feel very "Peach", if that makes sense. It makes sense that she'd assume Mario to be an enemy, but after that point it stops feeling in-character.

The more serious tone they gave with Bowser was also something to wrap my brain around. Over the course of the games Bowser's been gradually "declawed" as a villain, so I love that they really put emphasis on his cruelty.

I'm surprised they actually touched on Peach's origins, if only briefly.

I love Donkey Kong's portrayal in this movie. A lot of games don't give him much personality beyond "monkey lol" so I love that they took his other personality traits and expanded on those.

Cranky Kong running a kingdom wasn't the role I expected, but it is a fun take that I like.

Wrinkly Kong isn't dead lol

Diddy Kong having to be told to be quiet was a fun touch.

Funky Kong cameo improves my opinion on the movie. However he is hard to get a look at and doesn't have speaking lines, so that score must sadly be reduced a little.

One of the few allusions to Bowser and King Boo's alliance we get. King Boo didn't stick around to help during the fight, but he did make it to the wedding so that was cool.

RIP to King Bob-omb. Poor dude didn't deserve what happened to him 😔

Peaches (the song) was funny but not what it was hyped up to be.

Sequel with Yoshi hinted after the credits 👀

No Bowser Jr. or Koopalings despite everything. I'm wondering if they'll put him in the sequel.

Uhhhh I'm not sure what else I can remember, but this is long enough as it is. I had some nitpicks with it but I did like it despite my complaints.

[just-dino-maggie]

"What the hell were you thinking?" "In all honesty, I'm not sure." With Cole Caufield please!

I love this prompt! Thank you for the request, I hope you like it!

Cole Caufield can only be described in one word, frustrating. We attend Northville High school together in Michigan. He’s part of the popular group of athletes. The USNTDP boys are a tight group, all the guys want to be friends with them and all the girls want to be with them.

I don’t blame anyone for wanting that. They are attractive and fun. Being apart of the coolest group at Northville would probably feel amazing for most people. For me, well I’m just trying to get through school.

High school isn’t my end-all be-all. It’s a stepping stone to get to college. The person who loves to get in the way of my plans is Cole Caufield. We are always in the same classes and for some reason he loves to sit next to me and bug me.

Today in English our teacher announced our end of the year project. It’s worth 20 percent of our grade so I need to do well. It’s a partner project and I’ve already decided that I want to do with my friend Amber who is acing the class.

In order to pick our partners we have to go up to the teacher’s desk and tell her who we want to work with. I walk up to the desk and say “I want to work with Amber on the final project.”

She throws me a confused expression, “I already have you marked down as working with Cole. He told me about the partnership last week.”

My eyebrows shoot up, “No I’m not working with Cole, I didn’t even know he chose me for this!”

“I’m sorry Y/n but unless you both agree to switch or there is a genuine issue then I can’t change it.” She looks apologetic, it’s not her fault.

I sigh and give her an awkward smile, “it’s fine I’ll figure it out.” I practically stomp back to my seat. I’m angry but I’m trying to calm myself.

The bell rings signaling the end of class. I grab my things and hurry to catch up with Cole. “Cole, hey can I talk to you?” He turns around. He has a big smile on his face, what a dipshit.

“Yeah Y/n what’s up?”

I take a deep breath, “Why did you pick me for the final project!? What the hell were you thinking?”

"In all honesty, I'm not sure." He replies scratching the back of his neck.

“Well you better start thinking. I know you probably thought you could just have me do all the work but I will make sure you do your half.”

Part of me hopes those words will scare him off but it doesn’t. He just smiles and says, “Okay, sounds good.”

“Put your number in my phone, I’ll text you my address. We can get started this weekend.” I huff shoving my phone into his hands. He types his number in quickly and walks off to his next class. I glance down at my phone and the name Cole :) stares back at me. It makes my face heat up, I’m not sure why.

Over the week we decided on a time for him to come over. Saturday at 11am. On Saturday I get myself ready, I even clean my room for him. Which is weird because I’m not sure if we’ll even be in there but my nervous energy had to go somewhere.

Suddenly it’s Saturday and Cole is late. At around 11:30 I begin to think he’s not showing up. I’m in a pit of my own anxiety because he’s not answering his phone. I’m trying to keep myself calm but it’s hard.

Finally at 11:45 I hear a knock at the door. When I open the door Cole is standing there. “I’m so sorry I’m late,” he says. “My phone died or I would have texted you. Practice ran late.”

“Right, okay.” I mumble. My mind mixing with anger and relief. “We can study in my room.”

He walks up with me and we are sitting on the bed together. We start brainstorming ideas and we are having trouble agreeing on anything. “Are you trying to be difficult? Why did you even choose me as your partner? First you’re late and now this.”

He sighs, “No Y/n, I’m not trying to be difficult. I’m trying to put in my input to make this work. I know you’re really smart but I also have some good ideas. I chose you because you’re really smart and I enjoy being around you. It’s the same reason as why I sit by you in class. Also I’m sorry I was late, it won’t happen again.”

I can’t but blush. It’s stupid how much I crave academic validation and him telling me I’m smart feeds into it. “Thank you Cole. How about we mix my first suggestion with your second. I think it could be really cool.”

We start working as a team instead of two bulls butting heads. It’s almost magic, he’s so much more dedicated and passionate then I thought he was.

After a while I’m starting to get tired of school work. “Do you want to call it quits for the day? We have a great start.”

“Yeah sure,” he replies. “Would you maybe want to hang out sometime? Like without all the school work.”

I smile, “I’m free the rest of the day if you want to watch a movie or something.”

“Yeah, yeah let’s do that!”

We sit down next to each other to watch the movie as we’re watching he gets a text from someone asking how it’s going with his ‘literature crush’. I’ve never felt better about a school project.

[somediyprojects]

Paper Icelandic Poppies

Project by Kate Alarcón:

There’s a particular kind of lady-slipper orchid that I have made and remade and adjusted and readjusted.  I’ve probably made a hundred little green orchid slipper prototypes, and each try is more frustrating than the last. At this point, I suspect that the minute I finally do figure out this orchid, I’ll make it and then crumple it up, just to vent my irritation.

The Icelandic poppy is another flower that I feel like I’ve never completely nailed down. I’ve been tinkering with this version for over a year now. But unlike the lady-slipper, just about every attempt at this poppy has been really fun. I think it’s because poppies — with their wrinkled petals and hairy, spindly, crooked stems — are gloriously awkward. My practice poppies could carry off every little eccentricity I inflicted on them with rumpled panache.

I hope you’ll make your own awkwardly glorious bouquet of poppies and stick them in a vase and fuss with them as they tilt their blooms at weird angles, and lean all over the place, being disagreeable. And just when you’re about to throw up your hands, you’ll step back and realize that it’s all come together. You’ll want to make more.

The crinkle technique I describe below is adapted from Livia Cetti’s gorgeous and essential book, The Exquisite Book of Paper Flowers.

Special thanks to the phenomenally talented Lynn Dolan (@lmdolan75 on Instagram) for her generous advice on this project! —Kate

Photography by Kate Alarcón

Supplies

-18 gauge cloth-covered floral wire -8mm wooden beads -white cosmetic wedge sponges for applying glue -sharp scissors –poppy templates

Crepe paper

This is what I used, but definitely feel free to mix it up and substitute.

From Castle in the Air:

-“Pale Yellow Green” heavy crepe for the frill at the top of the seed pod -“Lemon” heavy crepe for the stamen filaments -“Sunflower” fine crepe for the anthers at the end of the stamens -Fine crepe in “Red,” “Persian Pink,” “Pale Pink,” “Pink,” “Sunflower,” and “Vanilla” for the petals

From Paper Mart:

-“Moss Green” heavy crepe to cover the pod and wrap the stem, from Paper Mart

Optional:

Design Master Color Tool Spray in “Holiday Red,” “Perfect Pink,” “Coral,” “Orange,” and “Yellow”

PanPastel in “Permanent Red Tint 340.8,” “Permanent Red 340.5,” “Orange 280.5,” and “Hansa Yellow 220.5”

A note about grain:

The grain of the crepe paper runs parallel to the roll or fold.  You will almost always cut petals with the grain, placing the template so that the tiny wrinkles in the paper run up and down the template, not across. Each template includes an arrow to show the direction the grain should run.

Constructing the seed pod at the center of the flower:

The first step is to create the little frill at the top of the seedpod. Use template A to cut a frill piece from the pale green heavy crepe. Stretch the wider end of the piece all the way out, flattening all the little crinkles in the upper half inch of the frill piece.

Twist the frill piece, beginning about ½” below the top edge. The part of the frill that you stretched will form a little funnel. As I twist, I like to place my fingertip inside this funnel so that it stays open.

If this feels cumbersome, it’s fine to just twist and then use one end of your floral wire to reopen the funnel.

Insert the twisted bottom part of the frill piece into your wooden bead.

Dip the tip of your wire in the glue and scrape off any extra so that you have a thin coat that isn’t dripping all over the place. Insert this wire tip into the bottom of the bead, next to the bottom of the fringe that you’ve just inserted.

You don’t need to push this all the way up into the bead.  You’re mostly just trying to anchor the wire tip inside the bead. You’ll secure it in the next step.

Use template B to cut a rectangle from the medium green heavy crepe. Snip a very short fringe across the top of this rectangle (it’s fine to freehand this, but you can also use the lines drawn across the top of template B).

Use your sponge to swipe a thin layer of glue over this piece. Lay your bead on top of the rectangle, so that the top edge is slightly higher than the top of the bead.  Stretch the rectangle around the bead and press either side together.

Trim the excess rectangle.

Use your fingers to press the fringes of the green crepe down onto the top of the bead. Scrunch the green paper beneath the bead around the wire.

This will secure the pod to the wire.

For the stamens:

Use template C to cut a rectangle from the pale yellow, heavy crepe. Stretch this rectangle all the way out.  It should now be the same width as template D, but if it’s wider, trim any excess. The dotted line across template D shows how deep you should cut the fringe. (You’ll be cutting from the top). You can trace this line with a pencil or just fold along it and let the crease mark where your fringe should stop.

Without stressing out about it, cut the fringe as finely as you can.

Using the diagonal line on template D as a guide, cut away some of the excess paper beneath your fringe.  This will create less of a bump where you’ve applied your stamens, and also smooth the transition from stem to blossom.

Use your wedge sponge to apply glue to the area beneath the dotted line. Place your bead on this fringe piece, so that the bottom of the bead sits just above the dotted line. Roll the fringe around the bead loosely.

Don’t worry about what’s happening below the bead; just focus on making sure that the fringe at the top is even all the way around.

Scrunch the bottom of the fringe around the wire all the way up to the base of the pod.

Gently pinch the filaments between your thumb and forefinger and bend them away from the center, all the way around, creating a tidy ring of stamens.

Now you’ve got your stamen filaments ready to go!

Cut a 3”x 9” rectangle from the orange fine crepe (the short sides will run parallel to the grain.) Fold it in half vertically and in half vertically again.

Cut a fine fringe through all these layers, turn it 90 degrees, and cut across your fringe to create a fine “confetti.” Gently sweep this confetti into a little pile.

Squirt some glue onto a paper plate or disposable dish, and dip the ends of the yellow fringe into the glue.

To keep my seedpod frill clear of the glue, I prefer to hold the stem at a 45 degree angle and dip one section of the fringe at a time, slowly twirling it to glue all the way around.

Dip your fringe into the pile of confetti.  Now your filaments have anthers!

Adding color:

You can apply color before or after you cut your petals.

If I’m using the Color Tool spray, I prefer to color sheets of paper ahead of time. Though the odor fades after a couple of days, this stuff smells really intensely like bug spray when you first apply it, so I strongly recommend doing this outside, preferably with a mask on.

Shake the can well, and spray on a light coat.  If you’d like more intense color, let the first coat dry a little bit and then spray on another light coat.  I like to spray rows of color across the grain of my paper, spacing them a little bit farther apart than my petal height.

If I’m using PanPastels, I usually cut and then color my petals. Use your cosmetic sponge to swipe the pastel onto the petal, swiping with the grain of the paper.

I especially like to apply it so that the color is more intense toward the petal edges, fading toward the bottom, though you could also reverse that.

Clockwise from top: 1. “Vanilla” crepe with “Holiday Red” spray, 2. “Red” crepe with “Orange” PanPastel, 3. “Sunflower” crepe with “Holiday Red” spray, 4. “Vanilla” crepe with “Orange” spray, 5. “Light Pink” crepe with “Yellow” spray, 6. “Vanilla” fine crepe with “Perfect Pink” spray, 7. “Persian Pink” crepe with “Coral” spray, and “Persian Pink” crepe with “Holiday Red” spray.

For the petals:

Each poppy will have six petals: two from template E, two from template F, and two from template G.  Templates E through F are actually half a petal, so you’ll need to fold your fine crepe parallel to the grain and place the dotted line along the fold.

Lay the petal on a smooth surface.  Place your fingertips about an inch in from the edge of the petal closest to you. Place your thumbs right on the edge, behind your fingers. Use your thumbs to drag or inch the paper toward your fingers. When your thumbs and fingers touch, leave your thumb where it is, lift your fingertips and set them down about an inch forward. Repeat until you’ve gathered the whole petal into pleats.

Pick up your gathered petal and pinch up and down it to set the pleats.

Holding the pleats in place, twist the petal as though you were gently wringing water out of a rag. You’ll twist them pretty firmly, but I find it works better to use a lot of little twisting motions than to try to do everything all in one big twist. Untwist and gently spread the petal, taking care not to smooth the tiny pleats and wrinkles very much.

You can curl your petal at this point or after you glue your pleats.

Curling the petals is a lot like curling ribbon for giftwrap: you can scrape the petal with the blade of your scissors, a skewer, or just your fingers, moving from the base of the petal to the upper edge as you scrape.

Spread the bottom half inch of the template most of the way out and use your sponge to dab glue all the way across the bottom of the petal.

Pinch the bottom edge to gather it back up. Let the glue dry for a few minutes.

Snip off the excess bulk at the bottom of the petal.

Attaching the petals:

You’ll apply the petals in pairs. Start with the template E’s, and place them on opposite sides of the pod.  Apply a little bit of glue to the base of the petal and press it right up under the bead.

The second set of petals, the F’s, come next. Working clockwise, place each F beside each E, so that each F overlaps each E by about 30 percent.

Finally, apply each template G petal beside your template F petals, again overlapping by about 30 percent.

Finishing your flower:

Cut a few ¼” x 8” strips across the grain of the medium green heavy crepe. Dab glue on the first two or three inches of the strip and tightly wrap the section of the stem just beneath the flower to secure the petals and hide the petal bottoms. Apply a small amount of glue to one side of the stem wire. (I usually glue four or five inches of the stem at a time so I don’t get as much glue on my hands.)

Hold the strip at a 45-degree angle to the stem and gently stretch the strip as you twirl the stem, spinning the strip all the way to the bottom. If your strip breaks or runs out, just begin with a new strip right above the place on the stem where your previous strip ended.

Once the glue is dry, take some time to straighten your stamens and arrange your petals. You might want to curl some a little bit more, or gently tug a petal’s edge to straighten out crumpled pleats, or press some of the petals down where the petal meets the center to separate the layers.

Sources for supplies:

Michaels: 18 gauge floral wire, Design Master spray, wooden beads, glue

Castle in the Air: Crepe paper, glue, wire

Paper Mart: Crepe paper

Blick: PanPastels

[artificialqueens]

Only Threw This Party For You (Halldoll) - Mumu

A/N: Had to write Halldoll for my comeback fic, of course. Also on AO3. Betaed by the lovely @sweetlikesunflowersandhoney. Come find me @stillmumu

Summary: It’s Jaida’s 19th birthday party, and Widow brings her a present in the form of Nicolette Doll.

Jaida should have known this was going to happen. 

She’s been friends with Widow since 6th grade, and ‘lowkey’ is simply not a word in the girl’s vocabulary. Why she expected anything less than a full-blown house party for her 18th birthday when she asked Widow to plan the celebration is beyond her.

She can already hear the bass pounding from all the way upstairs, a sure sign that tonight’s going to get crazy. She’s going to get a migraine if she doesn’t get some alcohol in her, pronto.

“Girl! You ready yet?” Widow calls, knocking on Jaida’s bedroom door. Speak of the devil. “I’m all for being fashionably late, but you’re cutting it close.”

“One second,” Jaida yells back, throwing one last look at her reflection in the mirror. She opens the door with a flourish, waving Widow in. “Come help, gold or silver?”

Widow considers, holding both sets of earrings up to Jaida’s skin. 

“Gold.”

Jaida takes her advice, clipping on the large tassels. “How do I look?”

“Hot,” Widow cackles. “You’re so gonna get dicked down.” She pauses before amending her statement with a: “Or, you know, whatever the girl on girl version of that is.”

“I’ll take it,” Jaida says with a grin. “I’m not trying to get laid tonight though. Can’t promise I’ll be nice to all your little friends you try to set me up with this time.”

“Bitch, of all days you decide not to get some, you choose your birthday? Really?”

“Shut up, oh my God.” Jaida runs her fingers through her braids, fiddling with the beaded ends. “Birthday sex is overrated.”

“You say that now,” Widow challenges good-naturedly. Jaida just shakes her head, biting back an exasperated grin. “C’mon, the party’s waiting!”

Jaida lets Widow lead her downstairs, into the thick of the party. Jaida scans the level, barely suppressing a frustrated groan at the sheer volume of people in attendance. Nearly half the school is here. This is going to be so annoying to clean up.

“Widow,” she starts, but is waved away.

“Just have fun! Don’t think too hard.” Widow motions at someone across the room, mouthing a ‘later’ at them. “Let’s get you a drink, yeah?”

Jaida nods gratefully, letting Widow push through the crowd, clearing a path for her. People stop her on the way to the kitchen, throwing congratulations and birthday wishes her way.

Jaida recognizes a few, but most of the people she doesn’t have any recollection of. Probably friends of Widow’s: that girl knows everyone in the neighbourhood and then some.

“Jesus, Widow, how many of these people are actually here for me?”

“Mixed or straight?” Widow ignores Jaida’s question.

“Huh? Oh, uh, what we got?”

“Coke zero.”

“Mixed, then.” 

Widow busies herself pouring Jaida a drink, measuring out cheap vodka and soda into a solo cup. Jaida shifts on her feet, already regretting the decision to wear stilettos. She’s been here less than ten minutes and is already exhausted. 

“Here.” Widow hands her the cup. Jaida nearly gags the second she tastes it, but the burn doesn’t keep her from chugging the cup as soon as she recovers.

“That was fast,” Widow says as soon as Jaida takes a break to breathe.

Jaida just shrugs. She holds her now-empty cup out, and Widow tops it up. 

“Gonna need it to deal with all of this.” 

“Fair enough,” Widow decides. “I promise you’ll have a good time tonight.”

Jaida grunts noncommittally, focusing on her drink. Widow arches a brow, watching her sip it at an alarming speed.

“Jesus, Jaida, you’ve got all night to get drunk. Slow your ass down.” 

Her phone pings and she fishes it out of her pocket. “Oh! Perfect timing, my present is here. You’ll like this girl.”

“I thought I said no wing woman action tonight? Birthday sex is fun in theory, but I’m not trying to celebrate with a one night stand.” Jaida frowns.

“Who said y’all had to bang? She could be your one true love. Be a little romantic, damn.”

“You’re so annoying,” Jaida says.

“Rude,” Widow’s phone pings again with her text tone, and she types something back, a little rushed.  “You wanna meet her or what?”

“Uhh…” Jaida swirls the remainder of her drink around in her cup, stalling. 

“Jaida, please. If you hate her I’ll save you right away, no questions asked.”

“Fine.” Jaida concedes, pulling a grimace. Is she really agreeing to this? “But you owe me lunch if this goes bad.”

Widow grins, already dragging her out of the kitchen. “It won’t.”

Widow’s never been this excited about someone to introduce to her before, Jaida reasons, trying to convince herself. Maybe it’s not all bad. And plus, she can still get a free meal out of Widow for her troubles, so it’s pretty much a win-win on her end.

Widow comes to an abrupt halt.

“Did something happen?” Jaida reacts just in time, nearly crashing into her.

“Nah, we’re good.” 

Widow sweeps the party, trying to figure out where Jaida should be standing when her surprise guest walks in. She pushes Jaida up the stairs a few steps, so that Jaida’s the first thing the guest will see when she arrives. Like a show pony, or a shiny trophy on display. Jaida knocks back another gulp of her drink at the thought. 

“Here, right here.”

“Chile,” Jaida starts with a wry grin. “You’re so extra, I can’t even.”

The complaints die on her lips as soon as Widow’s guest enters the party.

She’s gorgeous. Supermodel level gorgeous. Her blonde hair tumbles over her shoulders like something out of a magazine, and she’s in a sheer black dress that emphasises the sleek curve of her figure.

A sparkle draws her eye, and Jaida squints—is that a Chanel belt? Damn. Miss White Girl is rich, too? Whoever she is, she’s proof the universe has favourites.

“Damn. Where the hell did you find her?” Jaida says, thankful for Rihanna blasting over the speakers, loud enough to ensure nobody can hear her gossiping like some kind of auntie.

“She’s a new international student. Nicolette Doll.”

Nicolette. The name sounds elegant. Jaida likes it. 

Nicolette draws closer, and Jaida feels her mouth go dry. Her skin gleams gold under the party lights, and Jaida struggles to rip her eyes from the sight.

“Coucou!” Nicolette leans in and kisses both of Widow’s cheeks. 

“Hey, baby.” Widow repeats the gesture like it’s second nature to her.

Jaida blinks dumbly watching the exchange. She’s only seen that happen in movies. Everything about Nicolette seems so sophisticated, even her name. She’s got a hand on Willow’s arm, and Jaida can’t help but notice that the nails on two of her perfectly manicured fingers are clipped short.

Something tight and sleazy floods Jaida’s stomach at the sight, and she grips her drink tighter between her hands, trying to brace herself.

She’s got to get it together. It’s her party, for God’s sake; this is her territory.

“You must be the birthday girl?” Nicolette greets her, warmly.

“That’s me!” It comes out squeaky, but Jaida has no time to be embarrassed.

Nicolette goes in for the same cheek kisses she exchanged with Widow, and Jaida does her best to copy. 

Nicolette’s breath is warm, and she smells like incense and vanilla. Jaida’s so flustered at the way Nicolette’s perfume envelops her that she’s slow on the transition to the other cheek, accidentally closing the space between them. The sensation of the girl’s nose bumping against her own startles her, and Jaida pulls back, face burning.

There’s a soft little smirk on Nicolette’s face as she studies Jaida, and it’s making her dizzy. The tension stretches sticky between them, backed by the pounding bass from the speakers.

Widow pipes up for her: “Nicky, this is Jaida.”

Right. She’s supposed to tell Nicolette her name. That’s a normal thing people do in conversations. Jaida resists the urge to shake her head to break herself out of this haze, and bites the inside of her cheek instead, praying the sharp pain grounds her.

“It’s nice to meet you, Jaida,” Nicky says. Jaida catches a bit of an accent on the words, and the sound of her name in that lilting voice gives her butterflies. “I’m Nicolette. Nicky for short.”

“Nicky,” Jaida tries the nickname out, liking the way it feels on her tongue. “Pretty name. Suits you.”

“Does that mean you think I’m pretty?” Nicky winks cheekily at her, and Jaida swears she feels her heart stop.

“Shit, only if you think I’m pretty too. My compliments ain’t free.” She can’t stop the smile from spreading on her face. This girl’s flirty, and Jaida likes that. 

“Well!” Widow says, looking way too proud of herself. “I’ll leave you to it then.”

No, don’t leave, Jaida wants to call after her, don’t leave me with this girl, I’ll make a fool of myself. 

But Widow’s already gone, the space where she was standing suddenly looking very empty in Jaida’s periphery. Alone, Jaida feels unmoored in Nicky’s presence. 

Her eyes drift, not sure where to look. 

The highlighter on Nicky’s collarbones keeps shifting metallic in the light, and Jaida tries her best not to linger too long on the sight each time Nicky moves. With the way she’s standing a step above Nicky, though, her eyes keep falling to the gentle curve of her shoulder and dip of her chest, and Jaida can tell she’s pushing it with how close she’s coming to ogling.

Willow has truly outdone herself this time.

“Can I get you a drink?” Jaida asks, mostly just to say something. “The alc’s nothing nice, but it’ll get you a buzz, at least.”

Nicky responds by gesturing for Jaida to hand over the half-filled cup in her grasp. Jaida does, watching as Nicky turns the cup slowly in her hand. When she spots the place where Jaida’s lips have left a brown sheen on the rim, she aligns her mouth to the glossy print. 

Jesus christ, this girl is bold. 

Nicky’s eyes flutter closed as she tips the cup upwards and Jaida swallows hard, transfixed. Nicky’s bottom lip is pillowy, pushed up against the red plastic, and Jaida lets herself imagine for a moment what it would feel like to kiss her, to feel those plush lips against her own. Her body aches, and she resists the urge to slip her hands around Nicky’s waist and lean in close enough for the ends of Nicky’s hair to form a curtain around their faces and–

“–This isn’t terrible, actually. I’ve had worse.”

Jaida blinks, coming back in time to hear the tail end of Nicky’s review. She shifts on her feet, hoping Nicky hasn’t noticed her distraction. But the slight arch in Nicky’s brow tells her she hasn’t been so lucky.

“You’re distracted.”

“I- uh, yeah,” Jaida winces at how stupid she sounds. “Yeah, sorry.”

“Do I make you nervous, cheri?”

Jaida’s brain short circuits. She opens her mouth and then closes it, trying to come up with a bratty retort. Nicky’s smirk grows the longer they stand there quiet, contorting into something charged and cheshire-like.

Nicky makes her sweat, taking her sweet time before she speaks again. 

“Come on, use your words.” 

A strangled sound forces its way out of Jaida’s throat at the mean little edge in Nicky’s voice before she can catch it. Nicky’s head quirks to the left in a smug little gesture that makes her breath hitch. Jaida feels faint at the intimacy of the movement. They’ve just met, but Nicky is already teasing her apart masterfully, piece by piece.

No, no, no. Absolutely not. Nicky’s not going to win this easily.

Jaida catches her lip between her teeth, calculating. Her eyes dart over Nicky’s, taking in her easy lean against the wall, the confident way she’s meeting Jaida’s gaze. It’s a power struggle, and right now, Nicky’s too comfortable.

Fuck it. Jaida snags Nicky by the wrist, pulling her away from the crowd.

She’s moving fast, nearly bounding up the stairs and into her room. Nicky’s stumbling slightly behind her, trying to keep up with her pace. Jaida doesn’t bother to slow down, running off of pure adrenaline from Nicky getting her all riled up. She pulls open the glass door that leads to her balcony with such force it swings back in her face, and Nicky chuckles at the urgency of her actions.

The cocky noise dies in her throat once Jaida whips Nicky in front of her, pinning the blonde to the railing with her hips. Nicky’s breathing goes ragged, and Jaida knows she has her where she wants her.

Now it’s Nicky’s turn to be nervous, blushing when Jaida twists a lock of her blonde hair around her finger. Jaida lingers for just a beat too long, brushing over the shell of her ear. The sensation is light, but sends a shudder down Nicky’s spine. Jaida catches it, of course, ever-perceptive.

There’s a predatory glint in her eye as she gives the curl a harsh tug.

Nicky’s head spills backwards in response, exposing her throat to the soft moonlight. Heat spikes in Jaida’s gut at the sight. God, this girl is unbelievable. She brings a hand up to trace Nicky’s collarbone, finally putting her finger on the pretty gleam that’s been entrancing her all night.

Nicky sighs happily at the contact, encouraging Jaida to drag upwards until her hand is wrapping around Nicky’s throat. She eyes Nicky carefully, gauging her comfort.

“Okay?”

“O-kay,” Nicky whispers, her accent severing the word.

Her voice sounds loud to Jaida anyways, her senses heightened with their forms so flush together. The night air is cool, but Jaida can feel Nicky burning up underneath her.  It’s adorable how quickly Jaida was able to turn her into this shy little mess, even if Nicky wasn’t as quick to give up control as most girls Jaida is used to. 

She’s putting up a good fight, and Jaida kind of likes it, likes the challenge and quick banter they have together. Makes things more fun.

“It’s cute that you thought you were in charge.” Jaida’s grip is loose but firm, the intensity of her gaze enough to convince Nicky that she means every word she’s saying.

Nicky works her jaw instead of replying, defiance in her expression. The bitten-back aggression of the action sends a jolt of electricity through Jaida’s bloodstream, pushing her to up the ante.

“Aw, do I make you nervous?” Jaida repeats Nicky’s words from earlier, voice lined with something sinister.

Nicky finally breaks. She whines, the sound vibrating against the palm of Jaida’s hand. It’s a sweet little sound, one that drives Jaida crazy enough to slot a thigh between the girl’s legs and bring it upwards. The impact has Nicky gasping, and Jaida grins when another whine escapes. She could listen to Nicky make pretty little noises forever.

Jaida tangles her hand into Nicky’s hair, bringing their faces closer so that she can mutter into Nicky’s ear.

“Good girl.”

The praise seals Nicky’s fate, all but unravelling her. She takes a shuddering breath, and then another, trying to calm herself. 

Jaida’s in her element now, watching Nicky work to find her words. She takes the moment to drink in the comforting warmth of Nicky’s body pressed against her own. There’s a pretty pink blush on Nicky’s cheeks, visible through her foundation. 

It takes every ounce of resolve Jaida has to pull away, a calm smile on her face. Normally she’d be quick to pounce, work the squirming girl into putty underneath her fingers. But something about Nicky feels different, more special, and Jaida can’t shake the feeling that she’d like to do things the right way this time. She deserves better than a drunken quickie at a shitty house party.

Nicky’s breaths have begun to level out again. Jaida almost melts at how cute she looks with her eyes half-lidded, blinking out of her stupor.

“You know, usually girls wait a few hours before showing me their rooms,” Nicky offers, voice still hoarse.

“I move quick,” Jaida shoots back, tone playful.

“I’ve learned.”

“Try to keep up, Frenchie. I know you have it in you.”

“Yeah? What gives you that assumption?” There’s that intoxicating challenge again, goading Jaida into setting her straight about who’s in charge.

“Baby, no girl dressed as slutty as you are moves slow.”

There’s a few moments of silence, and Jaida feels a twinge of panic beginning to rise. Maybe she misjudged. Did she go too far? She’s opening her mouth to apologise when Nicky laughs, breathily, more air than sound.

“You Americans are bold, I’ll say that.”

“I was thinking I offended you for a second,” Jaida says, relieved.

“Why, because you called it like it is?” Nicky does a cute little shimmy with her shoulders, as much movement as she can manage given their closeness. “You think I dressed up in this and looked in the mirror thinking I look classy?”

Jaida stifles a snort, stepping backwards to give the girl some space. 

“I like you, Nicky.”

“You’d better, miss Jaida.”

A breeze flows through the balcony, and Nicky shivers.

“Do you wanna go inside?” Jaida suggests. “It’s getting chilly.”

–

“So, how do you know Widow?” Jaida asks once the girls are seated on her bed. There’s a blanket strewn across Nicky’s lap, and Jaida tries not to think about the subtext of a pretty girl in her bed. She tries to. But Nicky looks sort of at home in it, and Jaida’s heart melts a bit at the sight.

“Do you really want to talk about our friend?” Nicky asks her, voice laced with a dangerous faux-innocence. “Because I don’t think you brought me up to your room for small talk, yes?”

Jaida’s breath catches. She feels lightheaded all of a sudden, a thrill running through her veins. The tables have turned, once again.

“Chile, and you said I was bold.”

Nicky makes an impatient sound, so Jaida scoots forward, her lips smashing into Nicky’s. Nicky’s hand tangles into her hair, tugging. The pair topple downwards, Nicky’s back hitting the mattress with a thump. 

Their foreheads bump, hard, and Jaida rolls off of her position on top of Nicky. They hold each other’s gaze for a few still seconds, Nicky’s tongue swiping at her bottom lip, before they dissolve into laughter.

“Merde, that hurt.” Nicky smooths her hair down with her fingers, still smiling.

“What’d you call me?”

“No, merde. It’s French for shit.”

“Oh, right, sorry.”

“Don’t apologise! I’m happy to translate,” Nicky says, grabbing Jaida’s hand. She shifts closer to the other girl, and Jaida shivers at the feeling of the warmth of her skin.

“Maybe you could teach me French sometime,” Jaida tries.

“Mhmm, sure,” Nicky says. Her eyes sparkle. “I could teach you to french for now though!”

Jaida can’t help the splutter that escapes her. “I hate you already, oh my god!”

“Is that a yes?”

“Shut up and kiss me.” Jaida tugs Nicky even closer to her. 

She’s practically in Nicky’s lap at this point, and she sighs happily when their lips meet. Nicky kisses softly, a reflection of her personality. Jaida’s made out with many girls before, but this is different. Nicky is gentler with her. The kiss is all-consuming but dreamy at the same time, and Jaida’s happy to stay in the spicy-sweet cloud of Nicky’s perfume.

They part, and Jaida gives her head a light shake, trying to come back to reality. Nicky giggles at her. 

“You have-” She gestures to the corner of her mouth. “-lipstick there.”

Jaida swipes around her mouth. “Did I get it?”

“Uh-uh,” Nicky says, with a shake of her pretty little head. She uses her thumb to swipe, showing Jaida proudly when her thumb comes back with a streak of brown lipstick. Jaida stills at the tenderness of the gesture, holding her breath.

“Got it.”

“Merci,” Jaida says. Part of her cringes and dies as soon as the french passes her lips, but Nicky actually seems amused.

“Slow down, girl! French is my gig.”

“What can I say, I’m a woman of many talents.”

The atmosphere around them feels gentler now, a stark contrast to the charged tension they had earlier in the night. Jaida figures it’s the effects of the vodka in her system winding down, making her feel hazy.

“So, Jaida,” Nicky starts. “I don’t know much about you except that it’s your birthday and you’re Widow’s friend too.”

“And I’m a good kisser,” Jaida interjects.

“And you’re a good kisser.” Nicky laughs, agreeing.

“Well, chile, let’s see. I’m an only child, I’m captain of the basketball team. I’ve done pageants since I was little.”

The last fact peaks Nicky’s interest, and she leans closer, hair brushing Jaida’s shoulder.

“Pageants? Like, with the crowns and everything?”

“Yeah! They’re big around here.”

Jaida learns that Nicky is a model back in Paris. That explains the looks, and the cheekbones. From what Jaida gathers, she’s quite a famous one. Nicky is trying to be as modest as possible, waving her away when she asks if Nicky’s been in anything she would recognize, but Jaida gets the feeling that the girl is downplaying her success.

She and Nicky bond over their love for fashion, Nicky practically vibrating with excitement when she learns that Jaida designs and sews for fun. She promises to show the Parisian some of her designs sometime.

Nicky plucks at a loose string on the blanket in her lap, biting her lip.

“If you don’t mind me asking, why did you decide to transfer here?” Jaida asks.

“Change of scenery,” Nicky says. “Everything got very intense back home, and I wanted to take a break. Figure out where I want to take my career for a bit instead of jumping into things.”

Jaida nods in understanding. “Yeah, I can see how that can be overwhelming.”

Another beat of silence builds between them, but it’s the comfortable kind, and she’s more than happy to just sit in Nicky’s presence.

Jaida’s eyelids suddenly feel a bit heavy, and she tries to stifle a yawn. 

Nicky catches it anyways, eyes widening. “Oh, it’s late! I should let you rest.”

Jaida tries to protest, but her argument is interrupted by another yawn. 

“You can stay over?” She suggests instead.

Nicky hesitates, but then Jaida pouts. The sight is too cute for her to deny, her heart swelling. 

“Do you have a guest room?”

“A guest room? You were all cocky before, where’d that go?” Jaida teases. It’s cute how considerate Nicky is. 

Nicky wrinkles up her nose, frowning playfully. “I was being polite!”

“And it was sweet,” Jaida assures her. “But you can stay here. The bed’s more than big enough for two. I’ll get you something to wear.”

Nicky nods, and Jaida leaves to rummage through her closet. 

Now that she’s alone, the blonde takes in her surroundings. 

Jaida’s room has plaques and trophies displayed all around, no doubt from basketball, and there are rolled-up sashes piled up on her shelves. The sheer volume of them should be shocking, but then Nicky remembers Jaida’s dark lashes brushing her temples, and sharp jawline pressing into her cheek, and it all makes sense.

The fact that Jaida’s a pageant girl doesn’t surprise Nicky too much, actually, now that she’s thinking about it. The way the girl carries herself is enough proof: her regal posture, the way she commands attention with her quiet confidence and poise. 

She’s pretty, too. Striking. Statuesque. Nicky feels a rush of pride at the thought. Even outside of France, she can’t help but attract beauty all around her.

“I hope this is okay?” Jaida comes back, tossing the other girl a large t-shirt.

Nicky hums a sound of approval, unbuckling her belt and tossing her skirt to the side. Jaida’s brain seems to shut off at the sight, all the blood rushing to her head. Her skin feels too hot all of a sudden. 

Nicky’s skin is tanned, and it looks soft. Her torso is toned, and Jaida fights with herself, trying not to trail her eyes down even lower. Jaida’s eyes fall to the her collarbones, and then to the swell of her breasts. Her palms prickle at the sight of the lace fabric of Nicky’s bra resting against her skin.

“Enjoying the show?” Nicky asks, a sultry lilt taking over her words. Her accent is even more pronounced than earlier in the night, and it sends a jolt up Jaida’s spine.

“I- uh,” Jaida stammers. She opens her mouth and closes it, unable to come up with some kind of explanation to why she’s staring so intently. “Um.”

“In modelling, you kind of assume everyone will see you naked at some point,” Nicky says. Her words are distracted, like she’s just trying to fill the space between them.

Jaida tears her eyes away from the girl’s figure, fumbling for her own change of clothes. She knows her self-control isn’t strong enough for her to resist the urge to pull Nicky on top of her if she keeps staring. “Right.”

“Bored with me already?” Nicky’s lips twitch like she’s trying to hide a smile.

“Are you always this full of yourself?” Jaida huffs.

“Only when pretty girls can’t take their eyes off me.”

“I’ve only known you for two hours and I already know you’re going to be a pain in the ass.”

“You’re the one that riled me up just to get tired.” Nicky accuses.

“Get used to it.”

“Jaida! I’m trying to flirt!”

“I know, bitch,” Jaida says. “But I’m tryna sleep, so.”

Nick just grins. “You’re cute when you get annoyed.”

–

Jaida wakes up to an arm thrown across her throat, and a leg slung across her torso. 

Nicky is snoring lightly, and Jaida giggles at the sound before she remembers she has to be quiet and not wake the other girl. Jaida might have found her snores cute, if not for the way she’s finding it harder and harder to breathe from the weight of Nicky’s arm on her windpipe. 

She tries to lift the girl’s arm, to no avail. Nicky’s dead weight, and Jaida’s awkwardly shoved under her, the twisted position making it hard for her to move at all. She tries to wiggle her way out of Nicky’s grip, but that approach isn’t successful either. 

How is such a tiny girl so hard to move?

Her elbow thuds against Nicky’s ribcage and the girl stirs slightly. Jaida holds her breath, but Nicky still seems to be sleeping. 

After a bit of maneuvering, Jaida manages to get out of Nicky’s koala grip and breathes a sigh of relief. Her lungs fill with sweet, sweet air. There was a second there when she really thought she was going to suffocate. Note to self: Nicky is an aggressive sleeper.

A ringing sound startles her, and Jaida tries to locate where it’s coming from. She checks the bedside table, but her phone isn’t there. A bit of searching leads her to under the bed. It must have fallen while she was sleeping. She presses the power button, and the screen lights up.

14 unread texts

1 missed call from: Widow

Jaida groans audibly, realising that she completely forgot to tell Widow where she went off to last night. Hopefully, she didn’t notice that both Nicky and Jaida were gone, and Jaida doesn’t have to sit through an interrogation. Jaida reads the texts first.

Spiderbitch : I’m watching y’all talk from over here

 oooh girl a lip bite? get it miss hall!

Well, there goes her fantasy of anonymity.

Spiderbitch : Y’ALL GOING UPSTAIRS????

i’m so proud

this is such an emotional moment

Of course Widow would be enabling this behaviour.

Spiderbitch : get that french dick

or v my bad. whatever it is for girls, yk what i mean

y’all better bump clits i stg

Jaida makes a disgusted noise at that last one. Leave it up to Widow to choose the grossest way to describe hooking up.

Spiderbitch : y’all haven’t come down yet so i’mma jus cut the cake

u getting dessert rn anyways so,,,

i saved u 2 slices b, they’re in the fridge

u can share w frenchie

Jaida : omg we didn’t fuck u nasty

ty for the cake

She locks her phone, counting down. Widow’s going to call her in three, two, and… one. As if on cue, her phone rings again.

“Bitch! What do you mean y’all didn’t do it?” Widow all but yells into her ear.

“I mean we didn’t bone,” Jaida hisses. She makes her way over to her balcony to avoid disturbing Nicky. “And lower your voice, she’s sleeping.”

“Wait, y’all are still together? You slept in the same bed and didn’t fuck?” Widow cackles. “Who are you and what’ve you done with Jaida?”

“Oh my god, shut up,” Jaida laughs. “I like her, and I’m not trying to ruin it for a one-night thing.”

“I like me too,” Nicky’s voice calls out. Jaida whips around, eyes landing on the now-familiar shock of blonde hair. Nicky waves at her lazily. “Morning.”

“Is that her right now?” Widow shrieks. 

Jaida jerks her phone away from her ear. “How the fuck did you hear that through the phone, you freak? I’m putting you on speaker before I burst an eardrum.”

“Bonjour!” Nicky sings. How the hell does she have that much energy so early in the morning?

“Morning, Nicky,” Widow responds. “So are y’all going to go on an actual date now?”

“Widow-” Jaida protests, right as Nicky starts to say yes.

“So which is it?”

“You’re lucky I love you.” Jaida rolls her eyes. “If I say yes will you leave us alone?”

“Possibly,” Widow sounds smug.

“Yes,” Nicky interrupts, clearly impatient. “We will. I like her.”

Jaida blushes at that, despite herself. 

“Jaida, you owe me lunch.”

“You bet lunch on me?” Nicky says, sounding offended. “I’m worth dinner at least!”

Widow cackles. “I knew I liked you, Frenchie. Don’t forget the cake. Be safe! Use condoms!”

She hangs up. Jaida glares at her screen in disbelief, before shooting a glance at Nicky. “That bitch-”

Nicky just laughs. “I heard something about cake?”

[oddballwriter]

EMH Guys w/ a Partner that Bakes

Summary: It says what it does on the label 

Warnings: There’s one mention of getting burnt in Evan’s part at the end, it’s nothing graphic at all but I just figured to mention it 

Relationship: romantic 💕

Author’s snip: Just another random idea for the guys that I got. This is kind of a self indigent post since I bake and like wanna make a post based off that, but then again I wanna fill up this blog with some posts.

Note: Similar to my first post, this is the characters and also there’s no specific gender pronouns so by default this is gender neutral.

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy!

꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦

Vinny

He likes it and thinks it’s actually pretty cute

Vinny likes to watch you make stuff with all that focus in your face so that you do the recipe right, he’ll even be really impressed if you can do a whole recipe from scratch from memory

He’ll get a little bit nervous if you ask him to bake with you because he thinks your so skilled in this, meanwhile he’s probably only made stuff from a box

And even then he has to be careful and follow the instructions closely

He always asks if he’s doing the task you gave him right like mixing or measuring

Reassure him that he’s doing just fine 

After that, baking could become a thing that you two do as a date night since he finds it fun, and maybe he wants to actually learn how to bake some things because of you

Though he might still feel more secure with you being the one in charge of the task

Evan

Evan also thinks it’s adorable that you bake

Teasingly calls you Betty Crocker (regardless of your gender)

He asks if he can help you and you can let him if you want but he’s probably gonna just playfully throw some flour at you, make faces in the dough, and maybe eats a bit of the batter

Just a little

If he’s helping you bake this bitch will hide the sugar so that you’ll have to ask him for it and once you ask him for some sugar he’ll give you a kiss, and then give you the bag

Obviously as someone who bakes you’ll have some baked goods always around in your house. When he comes over he’ll help himself to a piece but only one or two since he’s the “nutrition guy” of the EMH channel

However, if you come with a whole plate of cookies, brownies, something like that and say that you made it just for him, that’s out the window. He’s gonna eat it all

He gives the excuse that you took time out of your day and used your ingredients to make this just for him and it would be rude if he refused but in reality he’s just wanted to eat your baking to his heart’s content

He has restraint obviously but still

Make sure he’s careful if he’s putting the tray in or out of the oven, he seems like he’d be the one to accidentally burn himself a bit 

Jeff

Baking date night? Baking date night

I feel like he already knows some recipes like simple cookies or something but if you know more complex ones then he’ll gladly give those a try

He takes full advantage of the fact that you bake and will eat all of the snacks that you make

You could make a batch of cookies before he comes over and half of it will be gone by the time he leaves

He also does the sugar thing too

But Jeff is actually helping you rather than just making a small mess with the flour and eating the batter 

Okay 

Maybe he puts some flour on you nose and is a bit playful but he’s actually helping you out

He finds baking with you peaceful

Plus you two get a snack at the end 

[himynameis4]

@andiwriteordie @bottomlessabyssposts @wibble-wobbegong i can’t tell who if anyone will find this entertaining, lol, but i figured you guys might be the most likely to? Of tumblr people i know lol. 🤷‍♀️ so. Tada!

I have this idea I’m very attached to in the Spidey-Will genre… PROBABLY won’t ever be written, but lives rent-free in my head & makes me happy, so figured i’d share it.

So there’s this El-as-X-11 idea, which I’m quite attached to, because I feel that she and X-23 are quite similar in backstory with the Weapon X government program assassin thing, even if their powers are wildly different. Can’t figure out how to sibling-ify Will & El yet, but I’ll get there.

So let’s say, hypothetically, X-11 escapes.

And, hypothetically, she might encounter/live with this universe’s version of Hop, first. But then she has to run, for lab-related reasons.

Perhaps, after an injury she ends up breaking into an apartment, in an attempt to find a place to sleep.

And so, our favorite college student, Mike Wheeler, returns to his cheap-ass apartment to find a bloody body lying on his couch.

He tries to see if she’s alive/has any wounds, and she throws him half across the room.

It’s the start of a beautiful friendship.

From there, El continues to be a cryptid.

Mike can never tell when she’s actually IN the apartment, so he starts, like, talking to himself aloud as he enters as if she is, which makes him feel a little bananas, but that’s okay. He still jumps every time he turns a corner & finds her standing there, though. Every. Time.

They come to a compromise on the sleeping situation? Kind of? El has the couch whenever she needs it, she just… if she’s going to come over bloody, could she clean it up? Mike invests in heavy duty cleaning supplies, and worries vaguely about being charged with murder. He figures El would probably break him out.

Here’s the thing, though. El doesn’t want to go out in public, and she doesn’t want Mike to tell his friends about her. Which is… fine. No, really, it is. Like, evil lab people, Mike totally gets it—he’s met Doc Ock, okay?

But college has been, like, really weird, and it’s hard to keep in touch, apparently, and—whatever, obviously Mike assumed everybody was closer than the were or something, but the point is—the point is—keeping secrets is hard, and he doesn’t think the whole “keeping this a secret” thing is HELPING the distance between everybody.

And also, El keeps stealing his clothes. Her excuse is that she can’t go shopping in public, which is probably bullshit, but El’s wardrobe is… eclectic. Mike’s not sure where she acquired it all, but there are a lot of men’s flannels and jeans mixed in with punk clothes, so Mike’s pretty sure stealing people’s clothes is just a Thing El Does. It’s kind of sweet. Still, that sweatshirt was a present from Will, alright, so he’s gonna need it back.

Another Thing El Does? Fucking monopolize the TV. And like, Mike’s trying to be accommodating, but certain shows run at certain times, El, and Mike needs his emotional support characters, damn it.

And then there’s the cats. So. Many. Cats. Is Mike ALLOWED to have cats in this shitty-ass apartment? Fuck no, not that anyone’s gonna call him out on it, apparently. Does Mike WANT cats in his apartment? Well. Hypothetically, how would you feel about having to dodge these creepy bastards, constantly getting scratched, watching reflective eyes blink out at you from the shadows, having to pull apart LITERAL cat fights… look, El heals fast, right? She has a skewed idea of which cats are “friendly.” These assholes are feral, stray, and most likely diseased, and Mike does NOT have the luxury of super-rapid healing, and he’s already running low on clothes because of El so having the cats attack his wardrobe is Not Helping The Situation, AND! And one of the assholes fucking tried to eat Roary, okay, he’s all chewed up & Mike had to hide him to keep him from acquiring further damage, & he’s, like, traumatized now. Yes he’s a plastic dino. He still has feelings.

Besides, they can’t AFFORD this much cat food, el, or the vet, it’s not like you’re paying rent—

No, that does not mean you steal more cat food—

Also El keeps eating ice cream directly from the carton & putting it back in the freezer & it’s driving Mike batshit.

Anyway. Mike’s… mostly sure he has a roommate now? She’s around often enough, and he kind of thinks they’re best friends at this point? Maybe? El sometimes doesn’t understand like, boundaries & privacy & stuff, but Mike knows he pushes her buttons, too—they get snippy with each other, a lot, but like, in a friendly way? Kinda like him & Max, except the ex-assassin (he thinks she’s stopped? Probably?) is definitely nicer. Mike talked to Joyce about it—WITHOUT exposing El, obviously—and she said open conversations about boundaries are important with roommates? So Mike’s gonna talk to El about that when he gets home, and neither of them are going to be defensive or dismissive, and it’s gonna be great.

Honestly, having an ex-assassin sort-of-accidentally become his roommate isn’t even the WEIRDEST thing Mike’s ever done.

He used to flirt with Spider-Man.