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gossipsnake · 1 year

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The Art of Friendship || Anita & Metzli

PARTIES: @muertarte and @gossipsnake LOCATION: A club Downtown TIMING: Last Night CONTENT WARNINGS: N/A

Going out on the town wasn’t exactly a priority to someone who detested socialization. The original intention of the night was to finish up cataloging and frame a piece or two, but of course, Anita had different plans. She always did, and they were always activities Metzli either didn’t care for or had never experienced. And much to their chagrin, they had no other option. At least, it seemed that way.

Given that Anita was their roommate, they were determined to keep it that way. It was a good arrangement and didn’t require them to work so hard speaking a language they didn’t quite have a grasp on. Needless to say, Metzli was grateful to have met Anita and be given a place to stay, and if that meant sometimes paying a little extra, they would comply.

“Where are you taking me?” They used their native tongue with a dry tone, answering their own question when they saw the club’s sign. With a groan, Metzli adjusted their shoulder and eyed the sign with a neutral stare. “You know I am not good at talking to strangers. I can hardly talk to you.” Despite their monotone voice, there was a flicker attitude. Mostly in the choice of words and how they stood, but it was there all the same.

When Anita had decided to buy a house in Wicked’s Rest she never imagined that she would be sharing the space with anyone other than her terrariums of insects. Things were more exciting, however, with Metzli around - they never seemed to say no to her ideas even though they never seemed to actually be into them. It was odd, they were odd, and Anita liked odd. It was fun to take them out to all sorts of places around town and just kinda see how they’d react to the environment. Like putting a specimen in a controlled environment to see how they’d interact with the stimuli.

Tonight’s stimuli was a rowdy night club. “That’s the beauty of a club,” Anita responded, her americanized accent disappearing as she slipped into speaking Spanish, “It’s so loud you don’t have to talk to anyone.” As they approached the door, there was a modest line outside consisting mostly of university students eager to engage in the minimal nightlife offerings of this town. She just ushered Metzli past the line to the bouncer, “Oye Bruno,” she purred to the bouncer before kissing each of his cheeks and walking into the club. Being a regular had its perks.

A scowl burned at the back of Anita’s head as the booming music swallowed them both. A cloud of smells bursted into Metzli’s nostrils. With the amount of alcohol in the air alone, they thought it was enough to burn the hair in their noise. Drinking wasn’t a pastime they had grown familiar with until their move with Anita, who had a proclivity for inebriation in her version of fun. “I already hate it.” Metzli muttered under their breath, scanning all the people they towered over.

When they got to the bar, they stared at Anita, wondering what she’d make them drink. As a vampire, Metzli couldn’t really taste much of anything if there wasn’t a dash of blood, but they had to admit that their friend did have good taste. The liquor was always smooth and always smelled less than everything else most people had. Metzli supposed that was the benefit of money, which both of them had plenty of.

“Are you going to make me flirt with women so you can laugh again?” The question was all but yelled into Anita’s ear. “I was kicked out last time you gave me a line to use.” And it was in English. How was Metzli supposed to know that ‘You look pretty enough to eat,’ and ‘Your flesh makes you a suitable meal’ were not the same?

Expectedly, Anita headed straight through the crowded dance floor towards the bar. She knew Metzli would be close behind, they didn’t often stray out on their own at these kinds of events. “Two double shots of Casa Dragones.” As she turned her back to the bar so that she could get a good look at the crowd she smirked at her roommates question. It was so curious how they interpreted things. Had Anita made them flirt? Was the intention to get a laugh, or was that just the consequence? The answer to both probably depended on how many shots she had beforehand.

“You’re being so dramatic. I’ve never made you do anything. And how many times do I have to tell you, you cannot take liberties with the wording of those pick up lines. English is a stupid language, sure, but you can’t just change all the words and expect it to mean the same thing.” It had been funny though, and Anita did laugh - especially since she wasn’t also kicked out. But why repeat the same outing they’d had before, she wanted to try something else tonight. Maybe find out if Metzli could dance.

As the bartender returned with the drinks, Anita extended one of the glasses over to Metzli as she shot back the liquid in the other one. Getting them out to the dancefloor would likely take more than just a double shot of tequila. For someone who never seemed to enjoy drinking, they certainly were good at handling their alcohol. “Have you ever had a long island iced tea?” She asked as she already started to turn back to the bar to order some.

It was always a game to see if all the shots ordered would be for Anita or if she’d share. For someone that enjoyed patterns, a routine, Metzli often let those comforts go. “I do not understand flirting. Honey is forward. She makes sense. She speaks plain.” They paused, narrowing their eyes at Anita.“And I am not being dramatic. You are just a bad teacher.” Truth was, they learned a lot from Anita. They enjoyed the way she challenged them. That was the way to get them to try most things.

A friendly competition here and there could always entice Metzli. Tell them they can’t do something, and they’ll spring into action. Which was why they were always inclined to follow Anita and mimic some of her actions. Master Eloy always said they wouldn't be able to live their life freely, but there the vampire was, doing exactly that. With a premium double shot of tequila down the hatch no less.

“Long Island? Like…the city? They import tea from a U.S. city?” They spoke English for the first part, but it didn’t feel right in Anita’s company. She was the closest thing to home as Metzli had gotten since leaving Mexico only a year prior, and even then, she was so different from them. Much livelier and colorful. A real evocation of their culture. They could see the way the music called her. It was in her roots, deeply ingrained. “So…tea and then what? You are looking at the dance floor.”

“But plain is so… plain.” Anita didn’t have anything against Honey, liked her even, but she didn’t quite understand the desire to keep gravitating towards one person. “Ayyy! That’s just uncalled for. A bad teacher?” Anita pretended to spit, as if the words alone on her tongue were poison. “Maybe you’re just a bad student, ever think of that?” Maybe that was part of the draw in her dynamic with Metzli. Sure, she taught all day long at the university, but it was really the only way she ever had enjoyed interacting with humans outside of her primal urges - sex and food.

Admittedly, Anita was not truly sure if she believed Metzli to be human. Sure, she understood the cultural distortion growing up in Mexico and moving to the states, but there was so much that they seemed to be unaware of that had nothing to do with culture shock and more to do with humanity. Anita was happy to teach what she had learned over the years through careful observation.

“I think you already figured out the ‘and then what’.” The music wasn’t what she would have put on if she was in control of the playlist, but the beat was already pulsating through Anita’s body as she moved her hips in rhythm as she waited for their drinks to arrive. Whenever she went back home, which had been less and less frequently, all the women in her family would go out drinking and dancing until the sun came up. They never got into it much, but she suspected that wasn’t quite the family dynamic Metzli came from. “I mean, look at all these people out there flailing around. We gotta show them how to truly dance, no?”

“Hmph…” The smallest of smiles curved a single corner of Metzli’s lips as they chuckled once. Sometimes the life in Anita was more than just entertaining. It was almost endearing. “No, no. That cannot be true because I study. That notebook you gave me has some interesting words. Will maybe use them tonight and see if I appear normal.” When Metzli had a hard time understanding the slang, they could always count on Anita to explain it to them and help them navigate the language.

As much of a tease as she was, Anita still managed to be more than reliable. For now. The dancing idea was maybe one of her worst, leaving Metzli to lose just a little bit of faith. “I do not dance. And if you want to duet a dance, that is a no. I do not even have the arms to do that properly.” They waved their half limb at Anita, staring at her with their empty expression.

“What do I even get out of dancing? This music is so…” Energetic. Happy. Loud. “Forget it.” Metzli sucked their teeth with a shake of their head and looked at the bartender who brought over two tall glasses of a brown liquid. It smelled…spiky and fruity all at once, making Metzli’s brows furrow slightly. “I suppose this is the tea?”

Ah, yes, the notebook. Just the thought of it made Anita smirk softly, careful not to let her amusement become too obvious. The notebook was, for the most part, a hand-written Urban Dictionary with the associated Spanish translation for popular slang/phrases that Metzli seemed to have no grasp on. Anita was, however, fairly blitzed when she wrote most of it. Every so often one of the phrases or words was intentionally inaccurate, a little treat left for future Anita. It was mostly accurate, no more than 5% of them were jokes. “Yeah, that’s a great idea. Try out a couple.”

Anita rolled her eyes at their attempt to avoid dancing. “Hate to break it to you, sunshine,” admittedly an intentionally ironic nickname, “but you do not need two arms to dance. You don’t even need two arms to dance with a partner. See?” Anita got on her tip-toes and quickly grabbed Metzli’s one hand in hers and placed her other hand on their shoulder. “Okay, so you don’t have the second hand to place on my back to lead, doesn’t mean you can’t do it though.” She dropped form almost as suddenly as she had initiated it, turning her attention back out to the crowd of people.

“Dancing at a nightclub will make you fit in. That’s what people come here to do. Nothing stands out more than the tree standing at the bar just sipping a drink and staring at everyone and not dancing.” As the drinks were placed down on the counter, Anita reached over and picked them up - again handing one of the glasses to Metzli. “It’s not tea, it’s a Long Island Iced Tea.” She knew that didn’t do anything to clarify what was contained in the drink she was presenting but decided not to elaborate further without specific inquiry. “We drink and then we dance, yes?”

Metzli nodded slowly, making a mental note to throw in a few of the phrases they read about. One in particular stood out. The term Bussin’ was interesting and had positive connotations to it. They thought maybe they could use it in conversation if they were forced to make small talk. No kind of interaction was worse than that, not even a bloody fight. But, lucky for Metzli, they were so bad at it that most people tended to walk away. They hoped that would be the case for their time in the club too.

Until then, there was something much worse happening. Physical touch. Admittedly, it could sometimes be nice. Like when Honey played with Metzli’s hair. But even she knew to ask for permission when they first met. Anita, on the other hand, was always a rule breaker. That came with a price; in the form of a small attempt to retaliate. “I do not like that.” Metzli stated dryly, flipping the hold to Anita’s wrist for only a brief second before they realized they may hurt their friend. They released, and much to their relief, she backed away just as quickly as it started. “I told you to let me know if you are going to touch me.” They huffed and turned to take the drink from the bar, chugging it as fast as they could. It was, for the lack of better terms, bland and spikey. Overall, strange.

“There. I drank your not-tea tea. I will dance to one song. One.” A pause, a short one that gave Metzli a moment to narrow their eyes at Anita with annoyance. “And I am not a tree.” They sighed, dropping their shoulders with defeat as they laid eyes on the dance floor. So many people. So many…bumping bodies. “Show me before I change my mind.”

“Ay, relax, I touched you for like three seconds - you don’t need to get all aggressive about it.” Anita simply shook off the brief, rather strong, hold that they had on her wrist and moved along. Sure, she could respect her housemate’s boundaries a bit better, but she was also curious just how many buttons she could push. She smirked a bit when Metzli practically downed the long island iced tea in a single gulp and hoped that the various types of alcohol the cocktail was composed of would have some effect on them.

“Okay, fine, one song.” Anita was comfortable agreeing to that mostly because she was fairly confident that she could convince them that at least three or four of the EDM-type songs the club was playing were actually just one very long song. “I’m going to touch you, this is your heads up.” With the prompted warning, Anita reached out and grabbed their hand and led them out to the dancefloor.

As the pair of them drew closer to the center of the bustling dance floor, Anita was a bit irked by the fact that Metzli didn’t seem to be letting loose much, if at all. “Don’t overthink dancing. Just listen to the music and … move.” As she explained she let herself give into the beats bouncing around the club, checking out some of the women that were nearby as she spun about. “Look at the hottie to your left. She’s looking at us.” Was it a good looking at them? That was unclear. She could have been looking because of how little dancing Metzli was actually doing.

Well, that was a lot of alcohol in that tea. Not-tea. What made it a tea exactly? Did the bartender have tea leaves? There wasn’t a kettle or diffuser in sight, so what did they use? Metzli began to wonder, their mind straying away from the actual problem. “I am intoxicated.” They droned, moving with Anita without much resistance. Before they knew it, they were surrounded by an abundance of sweaty, drunk people while they moved side to side.

They did as they were told, stepping in time with the music, but Metzli couldn’t really see the point. “Hottie?” As they tried to look, someone bumped into the vampire, and they stumbled forward, running into Anita. Under normal circumstances, Metzli would’ve been able to ignore such a simple mistake, but the alcohol in their system made them react differently. A little too harshly.

Turning on their heel, Metzli faced the offending party, and shoved them back. It was enough force to send him careening onto the ground, leaving them a bit perplexed with their response. They knew better than to cause a scene, to let themself get riled up. At least, sober Metzli did.

For a moment, Anita didn’t realize what was going on. She, perhaps foolishly so, figured that Metzli would be fine if left to their own devices. After pointing out the one hottie to them, her attention turned to someone else nearby and her back was to her roommate. She only turned around when she heard a few people nearby gasp - which to hear that over the music blaring was really saying something.

As Anita turned to look, she saw Metzli towering over someone who was down on the ground. The people around them had ceased their gyrating and Anita couldn’t help but roll her eyes - humans were just too predictable sometimes. “They’re just not used to large crowds, stop fucking gawking.” She scolded the onlookers in her most serious professor voice. She then turned back to Metzli and returned to speaking Spanish. “The fuck happened, you good?”

There was a ringing in Metzli’s ears and the bass in the music shook their chest. They felt overwhelmed, unable to focus until Anita’s voice broke through the fog. “Hm?” For a moment, they were grounded. Still a little hazy from the alcohol, but they were no longer distracted by the noise. “Guy bumped into me and I…I reacted poorly.” Metzli rubbed at their eye and took a deep breath, feeling too many eyes on them.“Don’t like touch. I—” A shove interrupted their sentence, almost sending them into Anita again, but they kept still like stone.

That was the stone that broke the camel’s back. Metzli couldn’t keep their composure anymore. In an instant, the vampire pounced forward and a fight broke out, sending the two in a flurry of limbs. It didn’t take much for Metzli to get the upperhand, they were too strong. This would prove to be dangerous, as blood began to paint their fist, forcing their eyes to flash red and their fangs to extend.

In the scuffle, Metzli managed to sink their teeth into skin, and the ability to control themself was almost gone. Lucky for them though, a bouncer shoved through the crowd and grabbed both them with the intention of sending them outside.

Evidently the guy who had gotten thrown to the ground had too fragile an ego to allow him to be shoved to the ground and not retaliate. Anita should have seen it coming - literally and figuratively. Human men were the most predictable of the species, but also she should have been monitoring their surroundings more closely. Before she knew what was really happening, the minor scuffle had erupted into a full-blown altercation. No, an all out brawl.

With all these people around, Anita couldn’t even step in and help without causing even more of a scene. She knew that her roommate was strong, but the way that they were obliterating this creep was … something else. Like - truly something else. It made her smirk.

Then something incredible happened. It was just a quick moment, but the bite mark that Metztli left on that guy was unmistakable. Anita would have tried to step in under normal circumstances when she saw the bouncer approach but given that she no longer had any worries about her friend’s safety, she decided to let nature run its course and see what was about to unfold. Much to her dismay, the altercation died down upon the bouncer’s involvement.

Upon being grabbed, instinct begged to act, to give the bouncer the same treatment as the unconscious idiot on the ground. Metzli knew better though, had learned how to control themself despite their prior actions screaming otherwise. They didn’t fight back when they were pulled from the dance floor and sent outside. As they were, they did their best to make the beautiful taste of the blood last on their tongue.

For the most part, it worked. Instinct could only be pushed back for so long, and when Metzli was tossed outside the club’s door, they snapped their teeth as the exit slammed shut. They were left to sit in darkness by a dumpster, but they were relieved to be away from so many beating hearts. Maybe being kicked out wasn’t so bad. They figured they could probably go on a hunt now.

If the fight had occurred without that delicious little bite, Anita might have stayed in the club and let Metzli find their own way home. But her mind was just racing. So Anita wasn’t too far behind when Metzli was thrown out into the back alley. Well, she was slightly behind - as she took a brief moment to grab the number of the girl she was briefly talking to before shit went down. But after that she was right behind them.

When Anita stepped out into the cold she was pleased to see that Metzli was still nearby. “Guess they can’t say that you’re all bark and no bite, huh?” She’d come right out and say what she saw and what she knew that to mean if necessary, but per usual she wanted to see how this would play out. As she stood there, all sorts of tiny little things really began to click into place. The chill of their touch (when she was allowed to touch them), their ignorance to pop culture and slang, and even the lack of human food they seemed to eat. Actually thinking it all through, Anita was a bit embarrassed it took this fight for her to really see who they were living with.

Metzli’s body tensed when the door opened again, but quickly relaxed when they saw it was Anita. It was strange, really. She didn’t usually follow after them when they were removed from an establishment for whatever reason. Mostly being too strange. The fight was a very special case. Seemed like Anita knew it too. Metzli just hoped they could play it off instead.

“I am no dog.” They huffed, standing up to face away from their roommate. There was no way she knew they were supernatural. Metzli tried their best to reassure themself of that. Sure they bit the guy and beat him to a pulp, but anyone could do that. And they were positive that Anita didn’t see their eyes or fangs either. Even still, Metzli couldn’t help but feel cautious. She was acting strange. As if she knew something they didn’t.

“I never said dog.” Anita replied coyly. They weren’t facing her, and she couldn’t help but wonder if it was because there might still be blood on their mouth. “Glad you don’t do that to me when I touch you without asking first.” It was meant to be a joke but she couldn’t really tell what sort of mood Metzli was in and whether or not they would pick up on that.

Anita wondered if there was a way to let them know that she knew they were a vampire - because what else leaves a bite mark like that? - without revealing that she was also supernatural. While she liked having the upper hand, maybe showing all her cards would open up a playful new aspect to their dynamic. “I knew there had to be a reason why I seem to like you, who would have thought we would just continue to have so much common ground..” She wanted them to be the first to admit it so she tried to just inch them towards a reveal.

“You say bark and dogs bark. I am dumb in english, but I am not really dumb.” Metzli rolled their eyes as they paced, keeping to the shadows so their eyes and fangs couldn’t be seen. Anita was poking at them, they knew that, but they were too on edge to ignore it. “You do not attack when you touch. He attack. Y te conosco. Difference.” Their voice took on an irritated tone, pushing away the neutral drone they normally kept. It would have continued, and Metzli would’ve likely made rude remarks, but as always, Anita gained the advantage with her proclivity of talking too much. For once, the vampire was grateful for that annoying trait.

“Common?” Stopping their pacing, Metzli stepped away from the shadows and into Anita’s space. With red, widened eyes, they stared into her forest hues. She was met with a shocked expression, full of hope and wonder that the two of them may actually be cut from the same cloth. “Are you vampire too?”

“It’s a stupid English saying that’s a metaphor about a dog, but I wasn’t calling you a dog. Dios mio.” Anita sighed, their stubbornness wasn’t going to be the main topic of this conversation so she decided to just shift her focus. It was honestly quite a relief to know that the person she was sharing her home with wasn’t human.

Anita smirked at the blatant admission. She didn’t think Metzli would really try to deny what had just happened nor did she think they would outright lie, but it was entertaining how quickly they were willing to identify their true self. “No, not a vampire. Not blessed with immortality - or cursed, I guess, depends on your perception. But, I’ve got some fangs of my own.” Anita said, smiling wide as she allowed her thick lamia fangs to reveal themselves along with a few patches of scales around her neck and arms. She wasn’t going to name herself off the bat, she was curious as to whether or not Metztli would have any idea what she was. “I wasn’t made into this, though. I’ve been blessed since birth.”

There were fangs, much like a vampire’s, but then there were scales too. Metzli had heard of Anita’s kind, and while they didn’t deny their existence, they weren’t sure it was true at all. Not until that moment at least. “Lamia?” Their brows crinkled together in concentration as they tried to recall everything they’d heard. It wasn’t much, Eloy said only vampires mattered, but Metzli hoped it was enough. “Reptil?” They asked in their mother tongue, smiling for the first time in front of Anita. There was no use in hiding the positivity in the discovery. Anita wasn’t human!

“We go home. Much to talk about. Yes?” Metzli offered their hand to their roommate, bowing their head with a kind of reverence they hadn’t given her before. “I will ask my questions and you will ask yours.” A pause, “There can be alcohol too.”

It was refreshing, almost relieving to Anita that all she had to do was show her teeth and a small scrap of her scales for Metzli to figure things out. It was so much simpler than having to try and explain. “Si, reptil. El crótalo.” It was… unusual to see them smile. Almost unsettling, actually. Like seeing something act against their nature. But she took it as a good sign, after all she was pretty sure this was the first time that they had ever actually smiled at her.

Hesitantly at first, as they had literally never offered up their hand willingly before, Anita reached out and linked her hand in with theirs. “Yeah, I suppose we do have a lot to talk about.” There was an odd comfort in knowing that she was with someone who really reminded her of home, now in more ways than one. She had come across a few vampires before, far less rare than her kind, and while she knew there would be stark differences - it seemed evident they would find the common ground. “And of course we’ll drink alcohol. I’ll break out the good stuff.”

#the art of friendship #metzli #para #p:metzli #chatzy #c:metzli

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physicks-archive · 2 years

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* ━━ summons : @lightrought .

“ time is a curious thing, don’t you think? ” the scholar taps her lips as it breaks into a smile. her mind seemed to wander as her companion was nearly as quiet as she was, it felt a little too nice. so, she decided to snowball some thoughts at him. after all, they were warriors of light. or at least nearly the same, in stature and morals. but one thing was for certain, if given the chance, we loved to talk about our love for places and people. she leans over to whisper in his ear rather playfully. “ curiously enough, my mother warned me that time is more ruthless than any man she’d ever met. ” she leans back onto her heels again. eyun stares at him before bursting into a hiccup of laughter. the faerie stared at her with a look of disbelief as she was cradled in her arms like a cat. even, she wasn’t sure why she was laughing but she did so anyways, brightly and short-lived. “ of course, aside from my own father, she was right. it is ruthless. time takes more lives. time ruins more friendships. time doesn’t pause with sympathy. yet, they still say time heals all wounds. ” her eyes don’t break contact. her smile seemed to never fade, albeit it be rather solemn. time only gave us an expansive scale in our troubles, loss, and all other ugly things that plague minds. yet, the seldom comfort of how the places or people loved us back. it was a lonely journey yet, sometimes we end up more broken with every smile we take and more fragile with every step we take. it’s not like we wanted to feel this bad. this isn’t how we should act, but we’ve gotten so good at fake smiles it’s gotten a little too sad for her or anyone really.

the scholar stares at the setting sun. savior’s respite. what a name... but it sure is pretty that much is true. the sight was enough to dwell over old words and mended wounds. “ then again people like ‘ saying ’ a lot of things. for example, they say forewarned is forearmed but i think some truths will cut deep regardless. ” eyun signals her faerie to go away for a second as she takes off her glasses. eyun sees the faerie mildly panic before she shuts her eyes and the faerie is temporarily gone. she feels it under her eyelids, his dormant and subconscious aether it’s strangely familiar. verdants hiding behind flesh began to ache at the sheer exposure to both of their aethers. she bottles the pain for a bit, eyes still closed she spins on her heels. vertigo sits on her throat, making her feel unsure of her balance before planting her right foot firmly on the ground and opening her eyes once again. blurry. she turns. breathes. she laughs, a finger pointed at edge of the cliff “ for example, if i know that this cliff was bound to erode when time came to it and even if someone tells me not to stand on cliff edges that are already crumbling. when i finally decide to challenge that truth... i am always surprised when i really do end up falling. now, isn’t that strange? i’m sure i’m alone on this blind stubbornness but it’s what keeps my patchwork heart all together. ”

she smiles once more, this time more sincere than the last, as she resummons eos who seemed to be annoyed at her sudden dismal and instantly starts silently fuming at the glasses that sit on eyun’s lap. she toys with the frames in hand only making the faerie even more flared up. “ alright, that’s enough of my odd ramblings. i am eyun vashai, scholar and tactician. pleasure to meet your acquaintance. oh — and this is eos, i guess. ow — you little ! ” the faerie pinches her wrist and points at the glasses again. she shrugs and puts them back on, she was getting a headache, anyways. “ geez, you worry for nothing ! — as i was saying, please feel free to ramble just as much as i have about any random thought. i tend to find that more entertaining than normal icebreakers. ”

#lightrought #▪ 𝐢. » * 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞 : 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐣𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐲. — ❪ ic. ❫#▪ 𝐢. » * 𝐫'𝐞𝐧 : 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭. — ❪ lightrought ⁰⁰¹ ❫#PLEASE DONT KILL ME I KNOW ITS LONG PLEASE DO NOT MATCH IT IM SORRY CODY DONT KILL ME #SHES BEING REALLY STUPID FEEL FREE TO TREAT HER AS SUCH #YOU KNOW WE'RE BOTH DUMB

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barnesbabee · 4 years

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[B]reeding Kink || C.S

[ꜱᴇxᴜᴀʟ ᴇɴᴄʏᴄʟᴏᴘᴇᴅɪᴀ - ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ʙ]

Summary: He broke into your house, and now he’s breaking you. (it's not fucking consentual non-con it's just inmate!San istg)

Pairing: Choi San x Reader

Words: my fairy godmother said it was 4311 words

Genre: Smut

⚠ mention of drugs, breeding kink, mentions of blood, mentions of violence, inmate!San ⚠

You woke up with loud banging on your door. It was so sudden, you didn’t know what time it was, what was happening, or where you were. It took you a quick second to scan your surroundings.

It was 2am, or so said the clock on your bedside table, and you were sitting up in your bed, startled and confused about the booming sound echoing through your house.

You got up from the bed and hurriedly wrapped your robe around your body, however, just as you were getting to the living room to look through the peephole, the door burst open. You covered your mouth with your hand to prevent any noise from coming out and hid behind the sofa, praying to whatever wanted to help you that he hadn’t seen you.

You closed your eyes tightly and started breathing heavily as you heard the loud footsteps roam around your house.

It was hard to breathe and you felt as if someone was pressing on your chest.

You opened your eyes slowly and peeked behind the couch. You could see a man… His appearance wasn’t clear as the whole place was dark, the only thing illuminating the room being the moon. He had a broad back and dark hair, that you noticed, and he wore heavy, black boots, that left a trail of dirt wherever he walked.

Who was he? What did he want? Why was he in your apartment?

You hid back and waited until you could no longer hear him.

The silence of his steps felt unsettling… Your chest rose and fell rapidly, and it took all of the courage you had to peek around the couch once more.

However, this time you were met with a man’s face. He wore a wide, Cheshire Cat-like smile on his face as he stared right at you. You could almost feel his warm breath hit your face…

“Hello, doll!”

You opened your mouth to scream but the male was faster. He slapped his hand over your face, preventing you from yelling for help or anything of the sort.

The male approached his lips to your ears.

“I’m gonna need your help doll…”

You took a look at his appearance. He had on a white, stained, and slightly ripped wife-beater, along with a flashy orange jumpsuit. You examined his body carefully. His hair was damp and his inked, very well-built arms were shiny, he had been running. You were inspecting everything as carefully as you possibly could.. when you noticed.

Was that blood!?

There were little spots and splatters of dried, red liquid all over his clothes, which made you widen your eyes. What the fuck had he done!?

He noticed your sudden change of emotions and realized you had seen the state of his clothes.

“Listen, I don’t wanna hurt you. I need you to hide me, I’ll explain everything but you’re not in danger, yet.”

The ‘yet’ at the end of his sentence sparked something in you and you began struggling under his hold. He gripped your arm and forced you to stop shifting.

“Calm. Down. You’re not in danger, but if you call the police on me, if you yell for help, you will be. All you have to do is be a good girl and cooperate, because if anything goes wrong, all you need to know is that there are eight of us, if I get caught it won’t be looking too pretty for you.”

You looked at him, eyes still widened and breathing very heavily.

“You got it?” He asked.

He slowly removed his hand from your mouth and placed it on his thigh. You were full-on crying in fear at that point.

The male said nothing, he just sighed and ran his hand through his sweaty hair. He also didn’t know what to do. He had no idea where the other seven were, he had no idea if they were still alive and he honestly didn’t know what happened next.

“Y-you should take a shower.” You told him, as you finally felt the reek coming from him.

He looked down at himself and nodded. The male stood up and looked at you.

“I can’t trust you though.”

“W-what then? You’re just going to stink forever? Are you going to make me sit in the bathroom while you wash?”

You were just mocking him, but from the way he shrugged you could tell he didn’t mind one bit to have you in the bathroom with him. You refused at first, but you didn’t really have much choice as he dragged you around looking for the bathroom.

You sat on the toilet, facing the wall as you crossed your arms in front of your chest.

“I can’t believe you’re okay with this.” You complained.

“I was in prison, doll, I had hundreds of men looking at my ass every day when I showered, having a girl in a bathroom with me isn’t exactly a nightmare.”

You were both silent. The sound of the water hitting the floor echoed in the room and the water was so hot that the atmosphere around you two became foggy.

“Fuck, this is heaven…”

You would’ve chuckled if you weren’t so scared and uncomfortable.

“You know, we have warm water in there, but there are so many people taking showers at the same time so it just ends up being cold all the time. The showerheads are also really old, so they get clogged all the time and there’s barely any water coming out… You come out looking mustier than when you went in.”

You smiled at that. You could tell he was a people person, he was comfortable enough in this situation to tell life stories and maybe that was the purpose, but you started slowly feeling a little at ease. So much so that you gained the courage to ask the question you were scared of.

“What were you in there for?”

You had to know. You couldn’t have a conversation with him, you couldn’t not feel uncomfortable and uneasy without at least knowing.

There was silence, and the water turned off.

“Murder.”

Your eyes widened from the nth time that night and you felt all blood be drained from your body. The sense of fear and anxiety washed over you once more, and you didn’t know how to react. Should you run? Should you stay? Should you speak, or should you be quiet?

A little childish giggle sounded in the bathroom almost forcing you to look behind. He pulled the shower curtain to the side, and although this man was naked from head to toe right in front of you, your eyes were glued to his face. The giggling was creepy, you hated it.

“I’m joking, I went in for drug abuse and distribution.”

You took a deep, shaky breath and closed your eyes, letting your head fall forward. You shed a couple of tears out of stress and relief.

“You… fucking idiot.” You cursed at him, still feeling a little lightheaded.

He giggled once more and wrapped a towel around his waist, after roaming about the bathroom looking for one.

“Why… Did you have blood all over you then?”

He pointed at his abdomen, where a deep cut that your eyes had completely missed stood.

“It was mine. Mostly… Listen escaping prison isn’t that easy and there’s trap wire and people shooting, if you’re not bleeding it’s because you’re Michael Scofield, and sadly we’re all kind of stupid.”

Although he moved like the wound didn’t hurt, you couldn’t help but worry about it. You pointed at the ripped flesh.

“Can I… Can I fix it for you?”

He cocked his head to the side as he looked at you, silently questioning himself as to why you would want to help him. He shrugged, nevertheless. He wasn’t about to decline help…

“I’d like that.”

He tied the towel tighter around his hips so it wouldn’t fall, and sat down on the toilet you were previously resting on. You reached for the cabinet over the sink and took the medical supplies from it.

“This is going to hurt a bit so just, distract yourself by telling me about you.”

The male scoffed at your words.

“I’ve been to prison, I don’t think I’ll be hurt by- oh f-fuck!”

You giggled at his little curse as you pressed the gauze with hydrogen peroxide against his wounded skin.

He rested his head against the wall and flexed his abdomen.

“O-okay so, my name is San I’ve been in there for 2 years and- fucking Hell go easy on me!”

You giggled and mumbled a soft ‘sorry’ as you listened to his stories. You tried very hard to focus on your job, but your eyes would sometimes wander around his torso and covered thighs.

“I uh, I started selling drugs when I was eighteen, I got thrown out of the orphanage and my little sister came with me, and I wanted to make good money so she could go to university.” he paused for a second, wincing as you switched products “It was fine for a while, I made some friends there which was nice. I never really had friends, cause I kept moving from the orphanage to foster houses back and forth, so I never stayed in one place long enough to make lasting friendships… B-but it didn’t go so well cause I got caught in a swoop and the eight of us went in.”

When he finished the story you had no idea what to say… You felt a little bad about what he had just told you.

“I’m sorry…”

“It’s fine, life isn’t always kind. Plus,” he stopped to grab your chin and bring your gaze up to his “I never said I was a good person, doll. I just said I was tryna get my sister to a better place.”

You stared into his eyes for a second, before snapping back to reality. You stood up and mumbled something along the lines of ‘I’ll get you some clothes’ as you walked off.

Some of your larger garments fit him quite well. A pair of large, black joggers and a yellow hoodie that looked stupidly big on you. He had to go commando however, since you didn’t happen to have a pair of boxers lying around.

You set up the couch for him to sleep in as you weren’t about to give up your bed for an inmate that had just broken in, but he seemed pretty content in the comfort of your couch.

“You sure you don’t need some company in there, doll?”

You chuckled at his bold attempt and pressed your tongue against the inside of your cheek.

“Yes San, I’d rather keep the convict at least one hallway away.” You joked.

Although you felt a little more comfortable around him, knowing that he wasn’t 100% a scumbag, you couldn’t let your guard down.

Your theory was proven when you woke up not much later after you fell asleep with a shadow looking straight at you from the doorway. Not remembering that you had a guest, you yelled.

He immediately came rushing to your side and shut you up with his hand.

“Why did you scream!?” San asked, panicking.

You removed his hand from your face harshly.

“Because a huge shadow man was standing in my doorway like a lunatic! What are you doing!?”

“It’s… It’s 7am I’m hungry.”

You shot daggers at him through your sleepy, hooded eyes.

“Do you not sleep?”

“Not really… We have a lot of sleep deprivation in there.”

Somehow he had this habit of making you do things by making you feel bad. And this was no exception.

You groaned and dragged yourself off of the bed, feeling kind of embarrassed about how terrible you looked compared to him. Although his hair was messy, it still made him look good, as it further defined his jawline.

You didn’t know what he wanted to eat, so you just pointed at your cabinets and began teaching him what was inside of each of them.

As you did all of this, you realized how often he’d brush his dark locks back, in order to get them out of his face. You looked at your wrist and surely enough there was a spare hair tie on it. You offered it to San, who gladly accepted the item and tied his hair in a small ponytail.

You started walking back to your bedroom, to resume your interrupted sleep, but a pertinent question popped in your mind, and sleep was no longer your biggest preoccupation.

You turned around and walked back to the kitchen, to find San shoving his hand down the cereal box and eating it dry.

“San… What’s your plan here? I mean, in the long run. You can’t just crash in my sofa forever.”

The male in question looked at you, a suggestive gaze playing in his eyes.

“I can always crash on your bed.” He wiggled his eyebrows at you as he said this.

“I’m serious, San. This can be really problematic for me! Do you realize the trouble this could put me in? If someone finds out you’re here I’ll have so many legal complications! I’m on the fourth floor, why did you even choose my apartment!?”

San went quiet for a second and looked at the floor.

“You’re the 69th apartment…” He replied quietly.

You rolled your eyes and turned around, stressed out about his response, while rubbing your temples.

Before you could get very far, however, the man grabbed your wrist and made you turn around.

“You’re right, I’m sorry… We agreed to meet up in an abandoned building a couple blocks down from where we lived. We needed to lay low for at least a couple of hours. I got lucky I managed to lose the coppers, but I don’t know about them…”

He had sat down by the dining table and buried his head in his hands. For some reason,

you felt as if you should comfort him, so you approached the male softly and pet his head slowly.

“I can try to help with the smaller things!”

But little did you know that that statement would soon come back to bite you in the ass, when you came home later in the day, after your very tiring night shift, and found eight very big men sitting around your living room, just chatting it up as if it was their own house.

Ignoring the possibly dangerous men sprawled on your floor and couch, you closed the door and walked towards San.

“What… The fuck.” You said through gritted teeth, trying to remain calm.

“Well, you said you could help with the smaller things, and that side of the town was flooding with cops looking for us, so I figured we could come here to lay low!” He said, gesturing to his friends.

You closed your eyes and inhaled deeply.

“When I said small things I meant maybe food or warm water to shower with. I didn’t mean I’d be the shelter for eight hooligans!”

“What did you just call us?” One of them calmly asked.

You looked behind San to face the bleached haired male, who had a mixture of angry and offended on his face. It suddenly hit you that all of these escapee inmates were in your house, staring at you as you insulted them, and nervous tears started brimming in your eyes.

“I-I’m sorry Sir, but you are sitting on my rug and you came from jail I think I’m entitled to be upset right now.” You told him, holding up your index finger.

“Listen I’m sorry but overstaying my welcome-”

“Oh, you think you’re overstaying!?”

Already sick of your snappy attitude, San gripped your arm and pushed you back against the wall, causing you to wince and drop your keys. His face was millimeters away from yours, so close you could feel his breath on you.

“Listen doll, I don’t think anybody wants eight wanted criminals in their living room but you don’t have a choice, okay!? Neither of us would be here if we had a better choice but we fucking don’t, so why don’t you make this easier for all of us and cooperate?”

You had no choice but to nod, as you swallowed nervously. San let go of you and sighed, disappointed that he had to resource to violence.

There was an awkward silence, that the male you had known the longest felt the obligation to fill.

“So, uhm, these are my friends… “ He said and began introducing them one by one.

Some of the men remained expressionless, only giving you a nod as a greeting, while a couple smiled politely and the rest chimed a small ‘hello’.

“Did you… All go in for the same thing?”

“Friendship goals, right?” The male you now knew to be named Mingi said, stealing a smile out of you.

There was the heavy silence again… And you searched deep in your head for what could solve the awkwardness.

“Are you guys hungry? I don’t have enough food here but I could go out and buy some chicken. I don’t think it’s safe to have people deliver.”

They all agreed and so you went on your way, to buy food for all the unwanted guests. It was probably a bad idea to go out on your own and carry all this chicken and alcohol (that you bought hoping that the eight men would become bubblier and less threatening after consuming it) but you still thought that was a better scenario than being caught in public with a wanted criminal. So after about forty-five minutes of struggling, you managed to get into the house with three huge bags: two for the chicken and one for the drinks.

Their eyes all lit up once you stepped foot inside of the house and suddenly they resembled little kids. The men instantly attacked the food, proceeding to hurriedly unwrap the chicken.

“Damn Y/N, were you in jail too?” San asked when he saw you hungrily devour the food. It seemed like you too hadn’t eaten anything that good in years.

You quickly flipped him off and continued eating.

Your speculations were correct, and as the empty alcohol bottles started piling up, the room started echoing with happy chatter and laughter.

All of the stress and panic about the situation started washing off from them as the hours passed by and you had to admit, hadn’t they been wanted criminals you wouldn’t have minded being a part of their odd friend group.

“H-hey Y/N, you should sit here, it’s more comfortable.” San joked with a sly smirk, as he patted his lap.

“Keep trying, lover boy.” You told him as you rolled your eyes.

San then placed his hands around your waist and pulled you to sit on his lap, keeping a slight grip on your body, soft enough for you to leave if you were uncomfortable.

“Was this a good enough try, doll?” He whispered in your ear.

You said nothing, and your silence made him chuckle as he pulled you back, until your back hit his chest. Somehow he was right. It did feel more comfortable… And maybe it was the alcohol, or the fact that San was actually insanely hot, but all of the tension left in your body evaporated, and you felt yourself melt into his touch.

All of the sounds started fading into the background and you didn’t even acknowledge the rest of the boys, as all you could feel was the way San was drawing shapes on your thighs with his long fingers, and how you wanted them a little farther up your body. You pressed your thighs against each other, and this action didn’t go unnoticed by San, who squeezed them tighter in his hold and groaned in your ear.

You could feel a hard-on beginning to form in San’s pants, as it began poking your ass. You shifted in his lap, causing his boner to harden by the second. He gripped his waist tighter and pressed you down on his growing problem.

“I really want you, doll, I think you want me too…” He whispered in your ear.

“You’re imagining things San.”

He rolled his hips up and held you in place, so you could feel every curve of his fully hardened member press against you. Of course he noticed the way you inhaled shakily and giggled. Giggled.

San was indeed an intriguing person…

He kissed a couple of spots on your neck, and bit down on an area he found softer, managing to steal a small whimper out of you.

A couple of heads turned towards you and they smirked, acknowledging what was happening, but not wanting to bother or steal the moment away. They turned their attention back to the other men, leaving you two isolated once more.

“Please, let me fuck you, doll… I wanna feel how well you clench around me. Will you let me do that?”

Your mind was clouded by pleasure and curiosity, and so you stood up and grabbed his wrist, pulling him towards your bedroom, not even bothering to give him a verbal response.

The second the male heard the door click, he pushed you against it with his body and smashed his lips against yours. His hands were obsessed with your hips and thighs, constantly squeezing them as you grinded against his crotch.

He tapped the back of your legs and you wrapped them around him. San carried you to the bed as if you were made of feathers, and even though his tongue was harsh against yours, the way he let you down on the bed was soft.

The two of you only pulled away when the confinement of your clothes started becoming unbearable. You peeled the work clothes (that you had never changed from) hastily from your body. San undressed just as quickly, and he couldn’t believe his view. After all that time being incarcerated he managed to have someone so good looking so willing to fuck him… He smirked and slapped your thighs, proceeding to grab them as he kissed your jaw, then your neck, then your chest, then your stomach, only stopping when his lips were dangerously close to a place you’d be wishing for him to touch you. He stopped and looked up at you. God, he wished he could take a picture of you right now… All jittery and messy, needy and aching for his touch.

"F-Fuck San, please!“ You begged, finally, when the teasing became too much.

"Anythin’ for you, doll."

He teased your entrance with his tongue before entering two fingers, as to prepare you for what was to come. San squeezed and bit your thighs as his fingers entered you in a high speed.

"Oh my G-God, San- I want you in me."

He groaned at your neediness, and shoved the fingers that had previously been in you past your lips.

You maintained eye contact as you sucked slowly on his digits.

San lined up his cock with your entrance and pushed into you slowly, causing you to wince slightly and bite his fingers.

The male immediately removed his hand and moved both his hands to rest on your waist.

"Y-you okay, doll?” He asked, afraid he’d hurt you.

"Yes- yes, move…"

San bottomed out inside you with a loud groan. He didn’t move for a second, trying to take in how tight you were and how good he felt. And even though he tried to hold back by starting to thrust into you slowly, he soon lost control. His hips snapped against yours uncontrollably fast and neither of you cared if the moans and whimpers could be heard in the next room.

"S-shit, look at you doll, taking my cock like a good girl-“

You gripped his arms, digging your nails into his skin, loving the way he talked to you.

Something about seeing all of those artworks in san’s body made you feel more attracted to the male.

"You feel so good inside me Sannie.”

The pet name and the little praise caused his cock to twitch inside of you, and you could tell he was almost there, by the sloppiness of his thrusts.

You wanted to see what he looked like in pure lust, you wanted to do the dirtiest things with this man, his sinful figure bigging out someone you didn’t even know you had in you.

"I-I need to cum doll, where do you want me to-“

"Inside me! Please, please cum inside me San!” You begged as you clung onto him for dear life.

His cock twitched once more, and he looked at you with a mix of surprise and lust in his eyes.

"Y/N are you sure cause-“

"Fucking breed me, San! I want your cum dripping out of me, please!"

The intensity of his thrusts increased as did the grip he had on you.

"You want me to breed you? Hm? Make you mine forever? Turn you into a bad girl for me? Y-you’re so dirty…”

"Y-yes! God yes!“

"Oh f-fuck!” Was the last thing he managed to yell as he buried his member deep inside of you, shooting white spurts of cum that covered your walls.

It was the way his body trembled and the way his mouth fell open with small whimpers that caused you to climax right after him.

His sweaty body collapsed on top of yours as he slowly pulled out, and you could feel the cum drip out of your hole.

For a couple of seconds all that could be heard was the heavy panting, until San lifted his head and looked at you.

"Fuck, I guess you belong to me now…“

3K notes · View notes

goldenkirstein · 3 years

Text

never knew what i was missin'

or alternatively, reiner being an oblivious simp

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@clean-soap requested: Hi. I saw that your requests are open and i was wondering if I can request a Reiner x reader. I was thinking the story line could be like My Love Story!! Anime, where Reiner comes and protects you from a creep and the both of you fall in love. However, through some misunderstandings he thinks you like Bertholdt and not him. So he tries to set you guys up, even when you try to be with him. I was hoping for some angst through the story and fluff at the end!

pairing: reiner x gn! reader

wc: 2.5k+

tags: fluff, some angst, modern! au, fem bodied reader, language, mentions of violence & assault, threats of assault, mentions of blood & bruises.

a/n: so i got a little carried away writing this, but i hope this fits what you were looking for. i really loved writing for reiner, its my first time and my first request !! also I haven't watched the anime, but i read the synopsis and tried to make some ties to it !! I hope you enjoy.

this is a work of fiction. please reach out to the necessary hotlines and call for help if you're in any danger. Please read the warnings before reading.

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

“I’m sorry, I’m flattered, but unfortunately, I’m busy.” You offered the man in front of you an apologetic smile and tried to hand back the tickets he had given you. Occurrences like these weren’t common, but you had your fair share of handing out rejections. It wasn’t something you enjoyed doing; someone was exposing their heart to you, and you had to crush their hopes.

Most understand. Most will leave you alone.

“Is that a no? You expect me to be okay with that?” The man glowered at you; any sight of despondence wiped clean from his face.

“Sorry? I’m not sure-” You stepped back to try to get away from him, back hitting the wall, any sense of composure inside you disappearing. He responded by advancing towards you.

“Are you trying to get away from me? I asked you a question, you ungrateful bitch.” He spat the words at you, grabbing your wrists caging you between his body and the brick behind you. His nails began to dig into the flesh of your wrist, causing you to drop the tickets in your hand. “I bought you those, and this is how you repay me?” His eyes had darkened; you could feel his hot breath on your face, making you sick.

“Get off me, or I’ll scream. I don’t owe you shit.” You sneered at him, trying to twist out of his grip.

“Oh, don’t worry, darling. You’ll be scream-” A prominent figure forcefully shoved him off of you before he could finish his sentence. You let out a sob, eyes-widening as you realized what scene was playing out in front of you.

The man was on the ground gripping his nose, which was gushing out blood; the figure was standing over him, chest heaving, fists clenching and unclenching.

The figure whipped his head back to look at you; his expression immediately softened as your eyes met his. You let out a shaky sigh; it was Reiner, the figure was Reiner.

“Lay another hand on them, and I swear you won’t see the light of day again, Grieves.” The man haphazardly stood up and scurried off before Reiner could cause any more damage to his face.

You were frozen to the wall, not even registering that Reiner had walked over to you and was calling out your name.

“Are you okay? Can I look at your wrist, if that’s okay with you?” He gave you a worried look, waiting for your permission before touching you. You gave the blond man a short nod, and he bent down to place his fingers gently around your wrist; you could barely feel them as he carefully examined your forearm.

“What were you doing out at night? If you don’t mind me asking.” His hazel eyes flickered up, a concerned expression still painting his face.

Your breathing had stabilized, Reiner’s hands on your wrist were a comforting presence in contrast to the harsh man who had touched you prior, “I was out with Bert; he was helping me with an assignment.”

Reiner’s jaw clenched at the mention of Bertholdt; you barely picked up on the slight change in expression from him.

“Grieves offered to walk me home, but I had no idea-” You let out a shaky sigh; the jarring experience was still fresh on your mind. The man stood up, giving you a heavy nod.

“It’s okay; you don’t have to continue if you don’t want to.” Reiner was still worried for you, his mind racking through ways to get your mind off of what just happened. He noticed in the corner of his eye the outline of what seemed to be tickets.

You watched as he bent down to grab the passes, wiping them on his pant leg. “Two tickets to the theatre, how fun!” He looked up at you with a crooked smile.

“Wait, no, I didn’t mean it like that, it is fun, I mean, not by yourself though-” You giggled at his awkwardness as he quickly stood up, his cheeks rosy with a blush.

“I got what you meant, Reiner, but to be honest, I don’t think I’ll go.” He shook his head and laughed. You looked at the man and bit your lip, words threatening to spill from your mouth.

He gave you a questioning look and tilted his head. “Reiner, walk home with me. Please?”

Having Reiner near you was already doing enough to calm your nerves, but you didn’t want to be alone after what you experienced. He blinked a few times, processing your request before giving a short nod.

You peeled yourself off the wall and promptly placed your shaking hands in your coat pockets, hoping that spending more time with Reiner might quell any remains of anxiousness you felt.

He waited for you to start walking before matching your steps, eyes flicking between your face and the path in front of the two of you.

Both of you walked in silence, the sound of your shoes clicking against the pavement filling your ears. Reiner spoke first, “I know you said you didn’t feel like going, but you should ask Bertholdt; I’m sure he would love to go with you.”

You turned to look at him, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “Bertholdt? You think he would wanna go with me?”

The tips of Reiner’s ears were coloured a stark red, from only what you could assume could be the cold. He gave you a strained smile, “Yeah, of course, he would; you’re such a kind person, and I hear him talking about you all time!”

“Oh. Yeah, maybe I will ask Bert. Thanks, Reiner.” You hoped that any sign of dejection wouldn’t be evident to the man next to you. Sure, you thought Bertholdt was a nice guy, but it wasn’t him that you longed for; it was Reiner. Moments like these made you doubt the little hope you had that maybe, just maybe, he reciprocated those feelings.

“What play is it anyway?” You asked him, noticing that his shoulders had tensed after you accepted his suggestion.

Reiner realized that he was still holding on to the tickets that he had picked up earlier; he brought them up, reading the fine print, “it’s Much Ado About Nothing, hey, at least it’s not Macbeth.” He whispers at the end, handing you the tickets. You blinked at him before bursting out in laughter.

“You can say that outside of the theatre, you know, you don’t have to whisper it.” Grabbing the tickets from him, you watch as his mouth falls open before he turns his face away from you to mumble curses under his breath.

His face was flushed; it was odd seeing such a burly man get embarrassed at the slightest of things. For you, however, this was commonplace; Reiner was gentle and kind. He never overstepped your boundaries and treated you with compassion. While others would look in fear to him, scared to ever cross paths with him in the dead of night, his presence brought you immense comfort. It wasn’t surprising how quickly you fell for him; you thought he might feel the same, but it was clear that he saw you just as a friend.

“Okay, okay, I’m the idiot ha-ha, sorry for not knowing how theatre works.” He rubbed the back of his head as he smiled at you.

The both of you had gotten carried away in conversation, not realizing that you had already approached your apartment.

“I guess we’re here.” Reiner stopped in front of the pathway leading to the main entrance.

“Yeah, I suppose so. Um, Thank you for walking me back and helping me out back there. You’re a wonderful friend to have, Reiner.” You spun around, already wincing at your word usage.

“You are too. Remember not to put too much pressure on your wrists, okay? I'll see you soon" He waved at you before walking off, mind already replaying the way 'friend' rolled off your tongue so casually.

Reiner felt a sense of ache as he walked away from your apartment. Outwardly he didn't seem like the insecure type, he was well-built, and while people revered him for his strength, most never saw past that.

He didn't mean to scare people off, but Reiner couldn't blame them; he wasn't exactly the most inviting person to be around. He kept a small circle of friends, never venturing outside of his comfort zone unless forced. Practically a walking ‘Danger: Do Not Approach, unless you want to get hurt’ sign.

Then there was you.

For a long time, Reiner didn’t understand why you were so kind to him, never once in fear that he could ever hurt you; not that Reiner ever would, you were precious to him. He wanted to tell you how he felt, that he liked you more than a friend, but Reiner realized early on that it would never work out. While you were seemingly unaware of looks the both of you got in public, Reiner wasn’t. The lingering glances told him everything he needed to know. You deserved better; it would be selfish of him to confess and ruin your friendship just because of a silly crush. Which is why he shouldn’t have felt his heart sink when you mentioned Bertholdt.

You shut the door to your apartment before slipping off your coat and shoes. You were exhausted mentally and physically. Walking over to your kitchen, you poured yourself a cup of water and checked your phone. You were debating as to whether you should text Reiner or not.

Deciding against it, you made your way to your bedroom and began changing your clothes into something more comfortable. While you had calmed down significantly from the earlier events, your heart felt uneasy.

Did Reiner think you liked Bertholdt? You thought you made your attraction to the blond obvious, the soft touches, laughing at his jokes, stolen glances, maybe you were just bad at flirting, or perhaps he honestly didn’t reciprocate the feelings.

It couldn’t hurt to try one more time, right? Gather the courage to confess your feelings, and if it doesn’t work out, then so be it.

You chewed your lip before picking up your phone that you had thrown on your bed while changing, shooting him a text.

Hey! I’m going to be meeting with Bert again at the library tomorrow, do you want to join us, maybe?

You drummed your fingers anxiously against the back of your phone, waiting for his reply.

Sure :) What time?

You let out a sigh you didn’t realize you were holding in. This was it. Tomorrow you would tell Reiner how you felt.

“Reiner told me that you wanted to go to the play? Well, he didn’t say that he, uh, said you wanted to go with me?” You sat in front of Bertholdt, who paused his typing once he heard what you said.

He lowered his laptop screen to look at you more clearly, “Me? Why would Reiner say-” You watched as the Brunet groaned and his head fell into his hands. “That idiot, I swear to God, he’s so fucking oblivious.”

It was your turn to be confused, but before you could question the man sitting in front of you, Reiner cleared his throat from behind you.

You whipped around and saw him smiling gently down at you; his hands were tucked into his jean pockets, “Hey, can I sit here?” You nodded quickly, pulling out the chair next to you, watching as he promptly slid in.

You passed over your laptop to Reiner, showing him the assignment details, pointing out the parts where you were confused. He nodded at everything you said, mind occupied with the feeling of having you near him. Reiner looked up and caught Bertholdt’s eye, who raised his eyebrows at him.

Bertholdt mouthed a ‘what the fuck’ to Reiner, who furrowed his brows in confusion.

He realized that maybe his friend was jealous that you were giving him your attention and not Bertholdt. He cleared his throat, “Thanks, I got it.”

You smiled at Reiner, pulling your laptop back to where you sat. He looked at you before looking at Bertholdt, “So, did you end up asking Bert?” Reiner smiled back at you, watching as your head tilted in confusion.

Bertholdt spoke before you did, “You know what, guys, I have to get this call; I’ll be right back.” He shot Reiner a look before standing up and exiting the library.

“Um, I did, but uh, Reiner? He was confused why you told me to ask him; I thought you meant he liked me or something?” You turned to face the blond who was writing his notes for you.

He placed his pen down, and you noticed that the tips of his ears were red, “You like him though, right?” His voice came out as a whisper.

You blinked at him, eyes going wide. Had he thought that you liked Bertholdt and not him?

“Wait, what? I don’t like Bertholdt, I mean, I do, he’s a nice guy, but he’s not my type.” You watched as Reiner shifted his body to look at you; he was barely able to keep eye contact.

“Oh. So what is your type then?” His gaze finally met yours, and he watched as the corners of your mouth turned up, forming a smile.

You figured that it was now or never, “If I were to generalize, then I would say, six feet tall, Blond, some facial hair, looks really serious all the time but has the kindest hazel eyes, and the name Reiner.” You saw as the gears finally clicked into place for the man in front of you.

He let out a small chuckle, “You like me? Not Bertholdt? Why?”

“Why not? Reiner, you are the sweetest guy I know; when I’m around you, I feel safe, my heart is on cloud nine, I never have to pretend around you; you’re so genuine and caring. Sure, Bertholdt is a nice guy, but it’s you I like Reiner, always has been”

If Reiner was blushing before, his face had gone completely red now, “How could I have been so dumb. I like you too.” You giggled at his bashfulness; tiny moments like this reminded you that he wasn’t as scary as people described him to be; to you, he was just Reiner, perfectly so.

Bertholdt walked back in, catching the two of you in the middle of your moment, “So I take it that you sorted out whatever was going on?”

You nodded quickly, grinning at Reiner. The Blond turned to face his friend, “I’m guessing you aren’t going to the play with them, are you, Bert?”

Bertholdt gave the Blond a dead-panned look, “No, you idiot, I think it’s pretty clear who they wanna go with,” he tilted his chin in your direction.

You were fiddling your fingers, the sound of your heartbeat loud and clear in your head.

“Would you like to go with me, Reiner?”

For the first time, Reiner felt okay with being a little selfish.

“Yes, I would.”

a/n: i hope you enjoyed this !! I had a lot of fun writing it, though i understand it was sort of dark in the beginning. this was my first time writing for reiner, so any feedback is encouraged !!

taglist: @c0urtn3y, @depressedbisexual, @dai-tsukki-desu

taglist form in pinned !!

As always, please leave a like/reblog if you enjoyed this, I appreciate lots <33

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imagineyourworld · 3 years

Text

Never Date a Pilot

Poe Dameron x Genderneutral!Reader

Summary: When he hears that you’re going on a date with another pilot your best friend is anything but happy

Warnings: None

Masterlist

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“You’re going on a date with Jak Milson?”

You put the datapad you had been working on down and looked up at Poe. Your best friend was standing in front of your desk, arms crossed in front of his chest and disbelief written all over his face.

“Hello to you too, Poe”, you sighed. From the way he was looking at you you knew there was no chance you’d get back to work soon. “And yes, I am going out with Jak.”

For a moment Poe just stared at you in silence, then he put both of his hands down on your desk and leaned closer to you.

“Why?”, he asked. Just a single word and yet it had you riled up. Yes, Poe was your best friend, but years ago you had established one single rule for your friendship: You would not talk about your dating or sex lives, at least unless one of you had a serious partner and the topic could no longer be avoided, but so far that’s never been the case.

“Do we have to talk about that now?”, you asked. You lifted your hands and motioned around the room. It was only when you looked around a second later that you noticed that although there were ten more desks in the room, all of them were empty. You were alone with Poe.

“Worried your boyfriend is gonna come in?”, Poe scoffed.

It was the tone rather than the words that made your gaze return to him. Sure, Poe could get mad, but even then he didn’t talk to you in that tone, especially not when he had no reason to be mad in the first place.

You leaned back further in your chair and sighed. Apparently you had been right and this conversation would take some time.

“He’s not my boyfriend, I’m just going on a date with him.”

“Why?”, Poe asked again.

Abruptly you jumped up from your chair, causing him to take a step back from you so your heads wouldn’t crash together. You walked to the other side of your desk until you were standing right in front of him.

“I thought we agreed not to talk about dating.”

Instinctively Poe nodded, but just a second later he shook his head. You rolled your eyes at your friend. Didn’t he see that you had a lot of work to do and didn’t want to talk about this?

“So I have to abide by your principles and you don’t have to?”

He stepped closer to you, so close that your chests were almost touching and you could see the tiny golden specks in his eyes. Usually being this close to him would make you flustered, but today it only made you angrier.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Did you know he’s a pilot?”, Poe asked just a fraction of a moment after your question has left your mouth.

You stared at him, your mouth opening and closing, your hands forming fists so tight you could feel your nails biting into the soft flesh.

“I did.”

You didn’t add that that might have been part of the reason you agreed to go out with Jak in the first place. Being a pilot, having soft curls, warm brown eyes and an easy smile he reminded you just enough of the person you would rather go out with to maybe forget about the best friend you have been pining over for years and move on.

All of the sudden the fight left Poe. He no longer stared at you with blazing eyes, but instead looked down at his feet, almost defeated. And no matter how much you just wanted to smack him a second earlier, now you longed to hold him until the worry lines on his handsome face disappeared.

“Poe”, your voice was barely above a whisper, scared you’d say the wrong thing. “What’s the matter?”

You reached out to capture both his hands in yours and gently rubbed soothing circles on his knuckles. “You know you’ll always be my favourite pilot.”

Gently, but determined, he pulled his hands out of my grib, though his eyes stayed locked on his feet.

“And yet you break your rules for another pilot.”

His voice was so soft and quiet, it took you a moment to fully register his words. Once you did, however, you were even more confused. Hadn’t he said something about rules earlier as well?

“Poe, would you stop speaking in riddles? What rules are you talking about?”

Finally he looked at you again. By now his expression was no longer angry or sad, it was plain confusion. You realized you probably didn’t look much different.

“Do you really not remember your rule about never dating pilots?”

You couldn’t keep the laugh that burst out of you contained. What on earth was he talking about? Sure, you’ve never dated a pilot, but that was partly because Jak had been the first pilot to ever ask you out and partly because you didn’t want to date just any pilot, you had a specific one in mind.

"I never came up with a rule like that."

“Of course you did!”, Poe exclaimed, a bit of the earlier fire returning to his voice and face. “Jean-Lyn’s seventh birthday party.”

He said the words with such a conviction that he must believe them to ring a bell, but you just shook your head.

“Poe, I barely even remember having been friends with someone names Jean-Lyn and certainly nothing that happened at their seventh birthday party.”

If the situation were less serious you might have laughed at the way hurt, confusion and realisation chased across Poe’s face.

“You really don’t remember, do you? We were playing a game or introducing ourselves or something, I don’t know, and we were supposed to say what we wanted to be when we grow up. I said that I was going to be a pilot and marry you, and I was one hundred percent convinced of both, but then you said that you would never date a pilot.”

You knew you shouldn’t laugh, after all, Poe was telling you about a childhood memory that clearly meant a lot to him, but you couldn’t help it.

“So you’re mad at me for something I said more than two decades ago? Poe Dameron, you are such an idiot.”

You were still laughing when Poe spoke again, but his words made you quiet down quickly.

“It’s not funny. Your words made me rethink my career countless times and if it weren’t for this war and the Resistance I would have quit flying years ago just to ask you out. And now I find out that you don’t even remember your own rule and are going out with a pilot that isn’t me.”

Finally it dawned on you. You remembered Poe thinking about not going to the Academy, wanting to quit flying and become a teacher instead, glaring at anyone who got close to you, but never another pilot.

A smile made its way to your lips.

“You know, there’s a pilot I would rather go out with that Jak”, you told Poe.

You didn’t know whether it was the years of friendship or the amused, yet loving and hopeful, expression on your face that told Poe you were talking about him, but he seemed to understand.

“I never said anything about going out with you, I said I want to marry you.”

His broad smile was matching yours and only grew when you pressed a quick kiss to his cheek.

“How about we go on a date first, flyboy?”

Instead of an answer Poe put both of his hands on your waist and pulled you closer.

“Under one condition: Your new rule is that you don’t date a pilot who isn’t me.”

“I hate being told what to do”, you whispered against his lips. “But in this case I might make an exception.”

Instead of an answer Poe leaned down just a tiny bit more until your lips finally met in a soft kiss that sent fireworks through your entire body.

You had no idea why seven year old you said that she’d never date a pilot, because it was inevitable that Poe would become a pilot and there was no one else you’d rather date.

-------

Is this cute? Is this stupid? All I know is that writing this was more fun than doing my assignment

#poe dameron #poe dameron x y/n #poe dameron x you #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron imagine #star wars imagine #star wars sequel trilogy #poe dameron fluff

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serasvictoria · 3 years

Text

Stupid Games - Chapter 3 (part 2)

Pairing: Ubbe x Reader, Hvitserk x Reader, Hvitserk x Reader x Ubbe

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Double penetration (it was kind of unavoidable I think?)

Word Count: 12.846 total

Summary: You used to live next to the Lothbroks when you were younger, but you moved away and haven't seen them since. A wedding brings you back to town after many years and during a bachelorette party you run into the brothers again.

Notes: Part two! What else can I say? More smut.

The movie that I mention in one paragraph is Y tu mamá también which is an excellent movie that I cannot recommend enough.

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three (Part 1)

Screencap provided by @underragingwaves. Other images from Pinterest.

Tagging @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @ritual-unions-gotme @vikingstrash @pomegranates-and-blood @quantumlocked310 @adrille88 @actual-queen-of-hell @youbloodymadgenius @punkrocknpearls @zuxiezendler

*****

You woke up wedged between two bodies the next morning. Ubbe was on his back and your head was resting on his chest, your leg shoved in between his thighs and your hand draped around his waist. Hvitserk lay sprawled out on top of you, head pressed against your shoulder and you could feel him drooling all over you. He had his leg over your hip and when you looked down, you saw that it was also wrapped over his older brother’s thigh.

If you didn’t know them so well, you might find this entire sleeping arrangement odd, but the relationship that they had with each other had always been overly familiar. Even as teenagers, seeing Hvitserk and Ubbe pressed closely against each other’s side during movie nights had been fairly normal. They also constantly pressed their foreheads together and they never cared who saw them do it either.

They were very comfortable around each other so why should you feel otherwise? And that knowledge combined with what had happened last night, made you wonder how often they had done something like this before.

For some reason you thought about a movie that you had seen once, which centered around the friendship between two Mexican boys and a road trip that they have with an older woman. The movie was incredibly sexy and very sad at the same time. The relationship between the boys deteriorated throughout the movie with jealousy and betrayal at the heart of it all, but at the end, fueled by alcohol, all three of them end up in bed together and after a kiss between the two male leads, it is very much left up to the imagination of the viewer what actually happened. Odd that you would think of such a sad movie at a time like this, while laying in between these two.

Ubbe shifted underneath you and you heard a low chuckle before his hand shot out, connecting sharply with skin. Only it wasn’t your skin...

“Serk!” Ubbe groaned and you felt Hvitserk move. “Get off of her.”

“No.” Hvitserk’s voice sounded sluggish, his lips moving over your shoulder blade as he spoke. Then his hips jerked up against your ass, his growing erection pressed in between the tops of your thighs and you felt his lips creep up into a smile. “Why’d you hit me?”

“Thought it was sleeping beauty over here.” Ubbe tickled your side and made you snort with laughter. “Didn’t know you were on top of her.”

“You didn’t notice that I was a lot heavier than I was last night?” you asked him. “I know that your brother isn’t exactly a heavy weight, but the weight of us combined should have told you that it wasn’t just me that was on top of you.”

“It’s still early.”

“You’re an idiot, Ubbe.” Hvitserk started laughing uncontrollably and you could feel him shift as he started kissing a trail from your shoulder up to your neck. “All bulk and no brain. Sad really.”

“You did not just say that.” Ubbe’s arm reached around you to shove Hvitserk off of you and seconds later you were on your back as Ubbe pinned you underneath him. “Anything else you wanted to say?”

“At least you’re easy on the eye so you’ve got that going for you.” You squealed with laughter when his lips descended on your shoulder and he started biting you. “Stop!”

“No.” Ubbe tried to make his voice sound low and threatening, but you could hear the obvious amusement in his tone. “You deserve this. Bad girls need to be taught a lesson.”

“I didn’t lie. I just thought that you deserved to be told the truth,” you replied defiantly, only for your words to grow higher pitched the harder he bit you. “Are you marking me?”

“He is.” When you turned your head in the direction of Hvitserk’s voice, you saw him lying on his side next to you, head propped up with his arm and his other hand lazily stroking his cock. “You’re such a child, brother.”

“Takes one to know one.” Ubbe’s words sounded muffled because he hadn’t pulled his mouth away from your neck yet. “Do you yield?”

“I don’t know. I think I got this one in the bag.” One of his hands connected with your thigh sharply and you yelped. “I can still win this thing, big guy.”

Ubbe pulled away from you and flipped you on your stomach in a flash. His palm came down on your right ass cheek almost instantly. Then his hand connected with the other cheek and the sound of him spanking you started echoing through the room. You pushed your hips up off the bed to provide him better access and pressed your face into a pillow to muffle your cries.

There was another hand on your arm, belonging to Hvitserk, his caress comforting. His gentle touch combined with what his older brother was doing to your behind was giving you a delicious mix of sensations. Hvitserk shoved his hand underneath your chest suddenly, fingers seeking out the nipple closest to him and his fingernails dug into your pliant flesh.

Twisting your head to the side, you cried out, “Enough with the foreplay! Someone fuck me already!”

There was one final slap on your ass, harder than the ones that had preceded it, and then Ubbe’s hand slipped between your thighs to cup your sex. You pressed back against his hand, low moan escaping from your lips when he found you sufficiently wet and then he was gone.

“You’re ready,” he grunted from your side and you sat up on your knees to see him lying next to you, settled on his back with his arms folded behind his head. “Come on then.”

“Lazy bastard.” Your eyes flicked down to his groin and his cock was already proudly standing at attention. “What happens if I refuse?” Ubbe shot up, wrapped his hand around your upper arm and fixed you with such a powerful stare that you stopped breathing. It also made all your heart rate increase so much that you thought that your heart might burst out of your chest at any second. “Damn, Ubbe,” you finally breathed. “Was that supposed to intimidate me or turn me on more?”

“Both,” he replied with a self-satisfied smile. He gave you a quick kiss and lay back down. “Now get on top of me.”

You turned your attention to Hvitserk before complying with Ubbe’s request. Hvitserk was still laying there and seemed content to just watch for now. His eyes sparkled with mischief when you moved your hand in between your legs, the pad of your finger lazily rubbing up and down between your folds. It was almost like he knew what was coming next.

When your finger was coated in your own juices, you moved it towards his lips and he opened his mouth wide for you. Since he had a thing for your taste and was going to have to wait his turn, it felt like you were offering him an appetizer. He grabbed your wrist, sucking on your finger greedily. You winked at him when he released you and moved back to Ubbe who still had that same smug expression on his face as before.

Ubbe grinned up at you when you straddled him and you gave his cock a few strokes before guiding him into you. You sat back slowly, taking him in inch by inch until he was completely inside you. You kept your movements languid and unhurried. It was too early to ride him like a cowgirl might ride a wild bull and the way that Ubbe was gazing up at you told you that he didn’t necessarily mind taking it slow. You’d grind down, getting as much friction out of it as possible, while he’d lazily push up.

“You are so fucking sexy, baby,” Hvitserk groaned next to you and your eyes briefly flitted over to meet his. The second you looked away, Ubbe pinched your thigh, a silent reminder to make sure you kept all your attention focused on him. “So jealous, brother.”

“Fuck you.”

“Now boys, no fighting.” You threw your head back and moaned loudly when Ubbe thrust up once with more force. “Plenty of me to go round.”

Those words seemed to spur Hvitserk on for some reason. He pushed himself up suddenly and seconds later, he was sitting behind you, in between his brother’s legs. Ubbe’s hands were already on your hips and Hvitserk covered them with his own. You felt Hvitserk give his brother’s hands an almost comforting squeeze and Ubbe chuckled lowly in reply. You got the feeling that they were silently communicating with each other, having grown so in tune over the years that they didn’t even need words at times.

“Fuck off, Serk.” There was one final tap on the back of Ubbe’s hands before Hvitserk settled his hands on your ass. “And ask first.”

“Ask me what?”

Hvitserk started kissing your neck and didn’t say anything. The longer the silence dragged on, the more curious you were getting. When he slid his thumbs in between the cleft of your ass though, you could practically guess at what his true intent was.

His hands followed the curve of your ass first, fingers caressing and exploring, squeezing occasionally. One of his thumbs brushed up against your other hole once, his touch so light that it could be thought of as accidental, but it soon grew more insistent. He still hadn’t asked you anything, but the way that he was massaging you down there, applying more pressure with every push of his finger, made you think that he was probably giving you an opportunity to tell him off. When you didn’t say anything, he groaned against your shoulder and moved one hand up to your chin so he could tilt your head back.

His lips brushed against the shell of your ear, his voice husky when he spoke. “You gonna let me fuck your ass, sexy?” Hvitserk had talked just loud enough for Ubbe to hear. It was immediately clear that Ubbe was more than into this as well, because he thrust his hips up hard and fast into you a couple of times. “While my brother fills up your pussy?”

“Just be…” Your sentence was cut short when Ubbe pushed up harshly, tearing a sudden gasp from your throat. Hvitserk’s teeth were on your shoulder, biting you in the same spot where Ubbe had marked you earlier. “It’s been a while…”

“I can be gentle,” Hvitserk breathed against your skin. “Make sure you’re ready for me first.” You rocked your hips back and forth just to give Ubbe some of the movement that he sought so much before pushing your ass back against Hvitserk’s hand. “What do you say?”

If your mouth could form words, you would have replied, but try as you might nothing but harsh gasps and moans were coming out. When Hvitserk’s palm connected with your behind sharply, you were pulled out of your daze and moaned a low “yes”. He pressed his forehead against the base of your neck and whispered your name once. His voice sounded almost grateful that you had given him your consent and then he pulled away abruptly.

Hvitserk got off the bed completely and you could hear him rummaging around in one of the bedside cabinets. The thought of what was about to happen was almost too much and you threw your head back to move your hips a bit more forcefully against Ubbe. He groaned underneath you and thrust up, hitting the right spot within you every single time.

The bed dipped when Hvitserk got back on it and you looked over to him so you could see his excited grin before he took up his position behind you again. He put a hand on your shoulder and urged you to stop moving which you did with a sigh that was meant to convey your annoyance.

His long fingers brushed down your spine, following the line until they dipped down low enough. His touch was brief and lasted mere seconds. When you heard something plasticy behind you, a bottle being popped open, that just made it all the more real. This was actually going to happen. You had stopped moving all together now and then you felt his hand in between your shoulder blades, pressing you forward. Your face was inches from Ubbe and your eyes were firmly focused on each other, your breathing already coming in quick and short gasps in anticipation.

Hvitserk’s lubed finger started working on you gently, pressing inside at an unhurried pace. You gasped and from the way that Ubbe’s face twitched told you that you must have inadvertently clenched your walls around him. You’d apologise if you were able to, but the sensation of a finger slowly moving in and out of you while Ubbe’s cock was filling up your pussy to the brim was quite unlike anything that you had experienced ever before.

You shifted your hips, moaning while Hvitserk added another finger as Ubbe kept staring up at you in amazement. You kept squeezing your eyes shut because of this continued assault on your senses, but every time that you opened them Ubbe was looking straight at you. His bright blue eyes never once left your face and it gave you the feeling like he was studying your facial expression, as if to constantly make sure that you genuinely wanted to go through with this.

You flashed him what you hoped was a confident smile and it wasn’t until he smiled back that you were pleased that you had been able to convey your willingness. Closing the distance, your lips met his and despite what was happening, Ubbe’s hips gently moving underneath you and Hvitserk’s fingers working you open, the kiss was surprisingly tender and sweet.

“Think you’re ready for me.” The spell was broken when Hvitserk spoke and you briefly looked at him over your shoulder, making sure he saw the same smile that Ubbe had seen just now.

Hvitserk’s fingers shoved up roughly one last time, his control fast slipping, before removing them entirely. His hand suddenly came back at the top of your spine, pushing you further down still so he could get the right angle to enter you from. You pressed your chin on Ubbe’s broad shoulder. His movements underneath you are kept to a bare minimum, just enough to remind you that he’s still there. As if you could forget that when his cock had been keeping your pussy nice and full this entire time.

One final firm slap against your ass and then Hvitserk slowly started easing the tip of his cock into you. A string of expletives started tumbling from your lips as Hvitserk pressed himself into you at a snail’s pace and you worked so hard to stay relaxed, but without Ubbe’s comforting eyes on you, it was so hard.

As if sensing this, he moved his hands up from your hips to wrap them around your back, his touch instantly comforting you. The amount of pleasure that you felt almost overtook you and you already knew that you weren’t going to last long. The boys had ceased moving and you suddenly realised that Hvitserk was fully inside of you.

Two sets of hands grabbed your hips then, covering each other like before, squeezing you this time to silently let you know what a good job you were doing without saying anything. They gave you a short moment to get used to this new sensation, but that was all that you were getting. You let out a low moan when Ubbe tilted his hips up tentatively and when you shifted, you inadvertently pushed back against Hvitserk behind you, making your next moan sound more like a whine.

“I-I’m not g-gonna last,” you gasped when Hvitserk moved his hips back and forth. As soon as he stopped moving, Ubbe took over. “Fuck!” you cried out. “T-that feels so good…”

It didn’t take them long to find their rhythm, moving in tandem as they kept you impossibly full from both sides. You had no control over the sounds that you were making and the only thing that you hoped was that you weren’t drooling all over Ubbe’s shoulder at this point.

They were wrecking you. There was no other word for it.

Losing his control once more, Hvitserk started thrusting in and out of you harder and faster, to the point where it was simply impossible for Ubbe to keep up with the pace that he was now setting. Somewhere in between his gruelling movements, you felt your walls tighten, screaming through your teeth right into Ubbe’s ear as your climax tore through you. There was no chance to come down though, because every time that one of them moved, a new wave engulfed you and pulled you back down into the depths.

They had taken everything out of you. There was nothing left to give. You let out a shaky breath, your arms shook as you moved them because your muscles wouldn’t stop spasming. Moving together, you felt Ubbe’s lips on your clavicle and Hvitserk kissed you on the other side, on your shoulder. You realised that they were probably able to look at one another and briefly wondered what kind of silent communication was going on between them at the moment.

“Just a bit longer, hot stuff.” Those words reminded you that they weren’t done yet and you gritted your teeth when Hvitserk started pounding your ass in earnest to push himself over the edge. He was relentless, pushing you to lengths that you hadn’t thought possible before this. You were grateful when his rhythm finally faltered and he pulled out suddenly. You were so far gone at that point that you barely noticed that he painted your back with streaks of his cum. “Fuuuuuuuuck…”

The second that Hvitserk had pulled away, Ubbe grabbed handfuls of your ass and flipped you over with a growl. You yelped when your back connected with the mattress, but your noises were quickly silenced when he pressed his lips down on yours in a fiery kiss. Silencing your cries, he buried himself inside of you again in one quick thrust and started snapping his hips against yours hard and fast as he sought his own release.

Your nails scratched at his skin like you were some wild animal that was caught in the final death throes as some predator tried to rip its throat out. You wailed as Ubbe drove himself into you deeper and deeper, your whole body burning up as he managed to pull yet another climax out of you. His body dropped down on yours, his arms unable to hold him up anymore and your name was one long drawn out moan on his lips when he finally spilled his seed deep inside of you.

“Fuck.” He was taking deep gulps of air into his lungs, just as out of breath as you were. Your hands were still lazily wrapped around him and you slid them up to his head now so you could scratch at his shaved sides with your fingernails. He chuckled and then said, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” You sounded so hoarse that your throat was burning with every word that came out of your mouth. “That was incredible.”

“Laying on top of you.” He pressed his hips against yours one last time before rolling off of you. When his already softening cock slipped out of your pussy, you could feel a trail of fluid trickling out. “Didn’t break you, did I?”

“Just my voice, big guy.”

“Good,” he replied with a smirk. “Wouldn’t want to break that sweet pussy of yours.”

“You’re such a sweet talker,” you replied with a giggle. “I don’t think I can walk anymore.”

“Mission accomplished, brother,” Hvitserk said from your other side. He reached out and started running his hand up and down your torso lazily, his fingers edging down lower with every pass. You pushed his hand away several times, but he would not be deterred. He propped himself up with his arm so he could look you in the eye. “I wanna eat you out.”

“Serk… I can’t...” “You can take it,” he said before you could finish your sentence. “Last one. I promise.”

“But Ubbe just…”

“So?” Before you could protest any more, he’d pushed himself up on his knees and moved to sit in between your legs. He loomed over you, his hands settling on your neck and then skimmed them down your chest. Your muscles spasmed in protest, but he ignored it. “Brother.”

Ubbe pushed himself up into a sitting position and pulled you against his chest. His big hands cupped your breasts, fingers playing with your nipples lazily. Hvitserk settled down on his stomach and pushed your thighs further apart. He blew hot air on your overworked pussy first then he dipped his head down and covered your swollen lips with his mouth. Hvitserk moaned against your core when he caught a taste of your juices mixed in with his older brother’s seed.

“Christ,” you said breathlessly, your hips coming off the mattress to push up against his face. “I can’t take this…”

“Shhh,” Ubbe crooned in your ear, his tone encouraging. “You’re a little trooper, you can handle anything.” The corner of your mouth twitched up and you bit your lower lip to stop yourself from crying out loudly. “Told you that he loves doing this… might as well let him...”

*****

Unsurprisingly, you had fallen asleep again afterwards.

When you woke up again, you lay between them once more, enveloped in their warmth. Ubbe’s chest was pressed against your back, his breathing slow and steady. Hvitserk was in front of you, his hand lazily rubbing up and down your side. He wasn’t aware that you had woken up until you craned your head to look at the window and tried to figure out what time it was. There was a lot more light streaming through the curtains than there was when you first woke up. But it was practically impossible to determine whether that meant that it was morning or midday.

Before you could check if there was a clock hanging on one of the walls, Hvitserk had already cupped your face and pulled your head back down so he could kiss you. “Morning.” You caught sight of his beautiful smile before he moved back in again.

“Still morning then?”

“Think so.” He kept kissing you while the two of you talked. “Why? You got somewhere else you need to be?”

“I’d like to get out of bed at one point or another.”

“I won’t let you.” He started grinning against your lips and then he slid his tongue into your mouth when you meant to talk again. “We can stay here all day if you want to.”

“If either of you fucks me again, I might be forced to do just that.” Hvitserk seemed to think that you had meant that and one of his hands slid down your body a bit too quickly, like he was in a rush. You willingly opened your thighs for him and he nipped at your bottom lip when he found out that you were already getting aroused. “That was not an invitation.”

“You opened your legs for me,” he retorted. “I’d say that was an invitation.”

His fingers worked to get you more wet by the second and soon you were so soaked that you could hear his digits move as he slid them up and down. But you also were fully awake by now and somehow determined not to make it easy on him. You slammed your legs shut suddenly, trapping his hand between them. When he tried to twist his hand away, you clenched down harder and started giggling when he huffed in frustration.

“You are such a little tease.” He tried to sound annoyed, but you could feel him grinning against your skin when he ran his lips over your jaw. He used the same words back when the two of you were younger. He was constantly telling you how much you teased him, even over things that had not even remotely been meant to provoke a reaction from him. Somehow he managed to pull his hand free and he surged his hips forward so his erection was pressing against the top of your thigh. “Open up for me, baby.”

“No.” It was difficult to keep this up when you wanted it just as badly as he did, but you tried to fight the urge just a little bit longer. Making him work for it had always been very arousing to you and it still seemed to affect you now. Hvitserk had been quite prone to losing his cool and you always took some odd kind of satisfaction out of being the one that tipped him over the edge. “I think I want to get out of bed now.”

“Like hell you are,” he grumbled. Suddenly, he grabbed your hands which had been pressed against his chest, pulled you away from Ubbe and pushed you on your back. He caged you in his arms, his loose hair tickling your face, and he flashed you a grin before he descended on your neck. You couldn’t help but moan when he started sucking marks on the column of your throat which he then swiped his tongue over. “Still like pushing me.”

“Uh-huh.” He rammed his knee in between your thighs and pried them open. “You always act like some wild animal when I hold out on you.”

He barked out a laugh. Reaching down suddenly to grab one of your thighs forcefully, he pulled it to the side so he could move his narrow hips in between the opening that he had just created. His cock brushed up against your wet folds and he ran it over them teasingly a few times. He dipped his head down further and dragged his lips over your sternum. When he turned his mouth to the side, he started sucking on your skin and when he pulled away to look at what he had done, you saw that a red mark was already forming on the top of your breast.

“I want you so bad,” he whispered and he reached down so he could line himself up. “Always wanted you.” He didn’t allow you any time to prepare, because he plunged himself into you with one quick slam of his hips. “Fuck, baby. I’m not gonna last.”

“Me neither.” His movements were hurried and when you let out a loud moan, Ubbe stirred next to you and your eyes darted over to him for a split second. “Won’t he…”

“Not unless you start screaming,” he managed to get out in between grunts. “And you’re gonna have to be loud.”

“So make me,” you countered.

There was another laugh and he pulled out just so he could thrust back inside. “Fuck. Your. Pussy. Is. So. Fucking. Needy.” Every single one of his words was punctuated by a thrust. You wrapped your legs around his narrow waist and dug your heels into his ass in an attempt to guide his movements a little. It only made him pound into you all the harder.

Hvitserk really seemed to be taking your comment about not being able to leave the bed if someone fucked you again quite seriously. For he seemed very determined to make sure that you would never be able to walk again. Every time that he tore a louder moan from your throat, he laughed breathlessly, pulled out completely for a few short seconds before continuing his onslaught. You could feel your body start to burn, a combination of your impending orgasm and from your muscles having been worked to within an inch of their lives.

You cupped his face with your hands and pulled him down so you could press an open-mouthed kiss on his lips. It was more sloppy than anything else, but you hoped that he also caught on to how it was meant to be received as a loving gesture. He attempted to deepen the kiss, but it was an entirely futile effort. You were both panting too hard to be able to do anything else other than just share each other’s hot breath. Frustrated that what he wanted to do wasn’t exactly working, he growled once and pressed his forehead against yours instead.

Since you didn’t have to hold his face in place anymore, you slid your hands through his hair. When you twisted your fingers in a few strands and gave a light tug, you noticed that a few muscles in his face twitched and that his eyes fluttered shut momentarily. Hvitserk obviously liked having his hair pulled. You wouldn’t be entirely surprised if that was the main reason why he kept it long to begin with.

The muscles in your thighs spasmed, tightening around him as your climax started to build. You made a noise that was halfway between a sob and a moan and despite somehow knowing that your combined noises had woken up Ubbe a while ago, you were still surprised when a hand suddenly shoved itself in between your bodies, a single long finger finding your swollen clit with ease and swirling around it in hurried movements.

It took everything you had in you not to scream your release straight into Hvitserk’s face, though knowing him, he probably would have loved that. Instead, you bit your lower lip hard enough so that you could taste the metallic tang of your own blood. Your orgasm burned through you in the same manner that a fire would rush through a forest if there was a strong wind to make it spread faster, burning everything in its path. Hvitserk in turn was unable to keep looking at you and dropped his head down to your neck. He repeated your name over and over again, his hips managing just a few more tiny thrusts before he finished.

You were vaguely aware of Ubbe moving next to you, mumbling something about breakfast before he disappeared altogether and left you alone with Hvitserk.

Hvitserk’s breath was still coming hard and fast. It took you a while before you were able to move again and every muscle in your body burned like you’d just run a marathon. For no reason at all, you poked a finger in his side lazily and when he laughed, you laughed along with him. It was that infectious. But when he suddenly stopped laughing and went quiet, you ran your hands up and down his back. You got the feeling that he was building up to something and waited patiently for him to vocalise it.

“Is this…” You could feel his Adam's apple moving when he swallowed hard to moisten his throat. “Is this real?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Dunno.” He suddenly pushed himself up with his arms so he could look you in the eye as his face hovered over yours. “Could be dreaming.”

“Are you implying that I’m just a figment of your imagination? Hm? Is that what I am?”

“Maybe.” He sounded slightly unsure of himself for some unfathomable reason. “Who knows what you are.”

“Serk.” You cupped his face very much like you did earlier and simply held him while you peered deeply into his hazel eyes. “I’m just me. Same as I’ve always been.” Lifting your head off the pillow, you gave him a light kiss. “You’re acting funny.”

“Am I?” He tried to turn his head to look away, but you firmly kept him in place. Something was up, but you didn’t know what was wrong since he was being evasive for some reason. “You know something…”

“Hmm?” He kissed you this time and since you weren’t panting messes at the moment, he could deepen the kiss. Your mouths moved together with ease, like this was how it was supposed to be. You hummed contently when he broke the kiss and started leaving light kisses all over your face instead. “What were you gonna say?”

“What?” You just caught sight of his radiant smile before he left alternating kisses on your eyelids. “Wasn’t going to say anything.”

“You were.” His movements got more urgent and you pinched his side. “Don’t distract me.”

“I wasn’t!”

“Why won’t you tell me?”

“Later.” When you looked less than impressed, he sighed deeply and nuzzled his nose against your neck to leave gentle kisses in a place where he wouldn’t be able to see your facial expression. “I promise.” He dipped his head down lower so he could drag his lips over your clavicles. “I just… it feels like I’ll ruin everything if I say it.”

“You know you’re only making me more curious, right?”

“I’m sorry.” He halted his movements and laid his head on your chest. You wrapped one arm around his shoulders and placed the other one on the top of his head. “Can we just lay here for a bit longer?”

“If that’s what you want.”

What Hvitserk had wanted to tell you was still a complete mystery by the time that he released you and pulled you along with him to get out of bed, but it was pretty clear that he was slowly building up to that so you decided not to pressure him.

He would tell you in his own time...

#vikings #vikings au #hvitserk lothbrok #ubbe lothbrok #hvitserk x reader #ubbe x reader #smutty smut smut #mar writes #mar moodboards

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displacedentities · 4 years

Text

Night Out

My quickfic for @doodledrawsthings Coffee Shop AU! In truth I had this in the books for months and just never got around to finish it ;u; Unfortunately only the muse can decide when it’s time to slap me with enough serotonin to work on this, so I rode the high from recent art and wrapped it up! It’s not as clean as I wanted, but you know what, have it anyway.

-Myst -----

Finally. Another shift in the books.

With a heavy sigh, Luka stretches his back as the clock chimes up on the wall over the glass doors. Deft fingers untie the back before he slips the fabric apron over his head. A light snap of magnets punctuates the white noise of steaming coffee machines, and Luka stuffs his nametag into his pants pocket.

Luka was embarrassed to think about how much of a struggle it was to steady on for the entirety of the workday. Stress ate at him all the time, over so many things. Harriet was priority number one - did he remember to prep her meals for the day? Was she still ok, back in the apartment? Was Professor Popcorn in need of more repairs? Luka would happily handle such a task, of course, but...

He wasn't guaranteed to have thumbs when the evening finally came. There was his time limit to think about.

"Hey Luka?"

Damn, but being cursed was such a pain. Chopping vegetables was a particular bane of his existence. How could he trust himself with a knife like that? Ugh. He hated to make Harriet do it - no child should be wielding a knife before the age of 13, for any reason. He'd just have to MacGyver a solution or something.

"Luka..."

And on top of that, he had the upcoming bills to fret over. Rent was due in a few days, and he'd made a decent amount in tips, but they could not afford to have their upstairs neighbor burst a pipe again. He and Harriet had spent the entire afternoon toweling up their poor carpets to avoid getting mildew. Or worse, bugs. Luka was a fan of bugs, but not in his carpets, or sneaking into the mattress where they could bite his daughter.

"HEY!"

This time, the voice manages to pierce the haze of worry writhing in Luka's brain. Jolting to attention, the auburn-haired adult turns around, blinking owlishly at his colleague, Clover.

The braided redhead is giving him a wan smile, her brows furrowed in worry as she sets down a large bag of coffee beans under the counter.

"You spaced out again, buddy. Did you hear a word I said?" the barista asks, folding her arms over her stained apron.

"Uhh... you said my name," Luka replied, feeling a bit awkward as he chuckles once. "Sorry, I probably missed anything you might have asked me."

"I was asking if you ever go out."

"Ah- what?"

That was unexpected. Go out?

"You know-" Clover holds up her hands to gesture to the world in general, and beyond the coffee shop doors "-out! Like, with friends or anybody?"

Ah.

Luka laughs once, rubbing a hand on one side of his face.

"You mean since I moved into town? Nah, not really. Me and my daughter have only been here a few months - can't say we made many friends just yet."

Nor was that a risk they could take. Who knows how long they could stay here, before he was inevitably found out? One could argue it was a risk just- doing what he was doing now. Trying to hold a job, staying in an apartment; a semi-permanent living situation. They'd been on the road so long, old habits were quite hard to break. And if he was entirely honest with himself, Luka didn't know yet if he felt safe, even six months past the first day he arrived in the rural town of Subcon.

Clover's frown deepens, her arms dropping back to her sides. Her dropped guard betrays her worry, before she tries to play it off with another lighthearted smile and upbeat words.

"Oh come on, it can't have been that long since you've just done something fun for the sake of it. When was the last time you went out with friends and enjoyed yourself?" she asks.

"Why is this important?" Luka asks, his own guard slowly rising. He didn't quite see where she was going with this, but he wasn't sure he'd like it.

Oops- maybe not the most polite way to phrase that, as he sees an awkward flinch on Clover's face. Quick, recover! Luka chuckles once, also trying to lighten the mood.

"You and MJ never really asked me that kind of stuff before. I thought I was hired to serve coffee, not tea."

"We serve both, ya doofus," Clover smirks, rubbing one of her well-muscled arms with the other in a self-conscious gesture. "You should know that, since you've been working here almost four months now. And uh- well, MJ just kind of noticed you always seem very tired whenever you leave work."

Luka smiles back, but it's forced. Careful. Don't give any hints that it's anything serious. Don't be suspicious.

"Oh, that? I uh- I'm not used to the retail scene. I'll probably adapt to it soon."

Clover doesn't seem convinced. Still, her expression is sympathetic, rather than judgmental or suspicious. She leans her back on the counter, looking over Luka's exhausted demeanor and baggy eyes with a skeptical smile.

"I'm sure you will." She rests her hands on the counter. "In the meantime, you should go out for bowling with me and MJ! We were planning this outing for about a week, and maybe you'd wanna come with?"

Luka stops mid-folding of his apron. He turns toward Clover with surprise.

"Bowling? As in- knocking over pins in an alley, bowling?"

Clover rolls her eyes, amused. "No, as in rolling cereal bowls. Yes, that kind of bowling, Luka. It'll be fun! Eat some cheap pizza, knock over pins, watch the uncanny valley animations on the TV screen, the whole shebang. You up for joining us?"

"I uh- I didn't know there was a bowling alley here?" Luka says, his voice pitching up as he gives a sheepish laugh. "I- I don't know..."

Shit.

He could already feel the first touches of his curse starting to well up. A quick glance to his hands- okay, no purple yet. But it was coming.

Luka tucks his hands behind his back just in case.

"I'm not sure, I have Harriet to worry about..." he fumbles, rushing to think of excuses. It hurts his heart a little when he sees the disappointed expression Clover wears.

"Are you sure?" she asks, her tone gentle. "It'll only be a for a couple of hours - I could ask Cookie next door if she'd be willing to handle your daughter for the night. She's a fantastic sitter, and your daughter would have Mu to play with."

Luka opened his mouth, preparing to turn it down- then closed it again, brows furrowed as he chews over the thought.

Only a few hours... hm. His curse's current time limit was somewhere a little short of eight hours, he was sure. As long as he didn't have to pick up a shift at work, he would have most of his day free to spend out of the motel. An outing to a bowling alley couldn't possibly last eight hours, though he'd... never actually gone bowling before.

"I.... don't know... I've never been bowling, I'll just hold you back-"

"Nonsense," Clover says, waving off his excuse immediately. "MJ and I aren't professionals or anything, Luka - it's just for fun! You've never been?? That means you've gotta try it, at least once. Please?"

...mmh. Luka would be lying if he said he wasn't very tempted. But he had so much to worry about! His daughter, his curse... keeping his job, being able to support the two of them. Not to mention, getting used to his slow camaraderie with Clover and MJ. That sort of outing would throw their friendship into first gear.

"It's ok," Clover interrupts his thoughts, standing back up straight as she grabs a rag and finishes wiping down the counter. "You don't have to come, we just thought... you know, it might be fun. You look like you need some serious time to unwind, dude. All we ever see of you is showing up to work, dealing with customers, then you leave. And hey, if you change your mind, the offer's still open."

Luka curls his fingers, foot tapping the floor in small fidget.

"Well, I'm gonna start closing up the back," Clover says, tossing the rag into a laundry bin next to the employee break room. "I'll see you tomorrow!"

"Wait!"

Clover stops, turning around with the laundry basket.

"What day were you planning to do it?"

What am I thinking?? I can't go on an outing with them!

Unaware of Luka's silent stresses, Clover beams, her smile lighting up once again.

"Saturday! Would that work for you?"

"Mnhg- maybe?" Luka concedes, forcing his own sheepish smile despite his brain screaming No nO this is a bad idea! His mouth continues to run away from him. "Saturday is my errand day - me and Harriet go out for groceries in the morning, and eat out at whatever lunch restaurant she picks. I wouldn't be open until the evening, and Sunday's game day for me and my daughter."

Bad idea, what are you doing?!

"That's perfect!" Clover says, delighted and still not privy to Luka's inner struggle. "If we close the shop at five, we can drive to the bowling alley around 5:30, play a game or two and eat. Should go until about... eight-ish? How's that sound?"

Say no, say NO!

"Sure, sounds fun."

AGH!

"Great!" Clover says, a skip in her step as she lopes off to the back room with the laundry basket. "I'll text MJ to let him know - he's already gone back to his apartment."

"Yeah, I'll uh- I'll text him too," Luka chuckles, scratching behind his head with one hand- and immediately putting a stop to that action, as he feels the points of sharp claws dig at his scalp. Both arms are dropped and tucked behind his back, a big smile on his face. "Gotta give him the full details and everything, haha..."

"No problem- see you!" Clover bids Luka goodbye, waving one hand as she cheerily hauls the laundry bin off into the back.

"Bye!" Luka says, his voice cracking from nerves.

Oh thank god she's gone.

Luka pulls his hands back out into view, and sees the telltale purple staining begin to creep up his flesh. Peck. It was already starting- Clover left just in time. He could already feel the sharp ends of his canines starting to poke into his bottom lip. He didn't have much left of the day in human form- he had to get home right now.

Snatching up his belongings from his locker, stuffing his work apron inside, Luka loops his bag over his shoulder and leaps over the service counter. He missed the rack of sugar packets this time, thankfully, his sneakers squeaking on the tile floor as he bolts out the door. The bell rings as the glass entryway opens and shuts, signaling his departure. Car keys are whipped out of his bag, a slowly deforming finger just managing to push the button to unlock the vehicle as he clambers inside. Just five minutes- he could make five minutes.

The engine of the car roars to life, and Luka zips off out of the employee parking space, trying his best to ignore it as his fingers swell and fuse together, and his eyes reflect golden light in the rear view mirror.

------

MJ's car putters up to outside the bowling alley, fixing his blue-dyed hair with a sigh. Clover, in the passenger seat, drums her hand on the door handle with excitement.

"This is gonna be so much fun," she says, turning to look over her shoulder at the stiff and uncomfortable Luka in the backseat. "I'm so glad you decided to come, Luka- we'll show you the ropes of bowling!"

"Great," the young man says, putting up another shaky smile as his fingers tense around his kneecaps. "Can't wait!"

"That's the spirit," MJ speaks up, giving Luka a quick smile of his own before twisting the key in the ignition. The car's engine dies down, the doors unlocking as MJ shifts the gear into park. "Clover told me you were nervous about hanging out, and that's completely fine by me - if you feel uncomfortable and don't want to stay, just let us know, ok? We'll drive you back to the apartment building, no hesitation."

Luka inhaled deeply, letting out a heavy sigh from the back seat of the car. It felt like his nerves were trying to shake him apart. A glance at his watch-

Was he really going forward with this?

...Yes. He was. As much as Luka worried, Clover had been right. It'd been far too long since he'd taken 'me' time.

Luka puts a hand on the door and pulls the handle, stepping out of the car before he has a chance to psyche himself out.

It's just a couple hours. He still had plenty of time, after his midday outings with Harriet.

Stay calm. You can do this.

The sign above the brick building shines with neon lights, saying 'Pins & Cushions' in bright blue and red. The backdrop is a painting that Luka can swear was painted in the 80s, displaying a bowling ball as it barrels into pins and knocking them askew with a cartoony impact mark.

"Pins & Cushions?" he says aloud, smirking a little bit.

"Kind of silly, right?" MJ speaks up, locking the car behind him with a click. "Sounds more like a sewing parlor than a bowling alley."

"It's because they boasted having cushioned chairs," Clover says, snickering. "You've never been, but most bowling alleys have these awful plastic chairs that hurt to sit on for too long."

"You mean like the chairs in high school?"

Luka's joke earns a quick bark of a laugh from Clover.

"Couched seating areas in a bowling alley was, sadly, a craze that never caught on," MJ says, ascending the concrete steps up to the building. "But this one did, and the place is like forty years old and too stubborn to change, so your butt will thank you later."

When the doors open, Luka is immediately washed with a cocktail of smells he didn't think could- nor should- ever go together. First and foremost is the thick smell of plastic and rubber, followed by the chemical odor of cleaning sprays, and the sizzling smell of burning cheese. Air conditioning blasts them from above as the three young adults enter the bowling alley, the doors sliding shut behind their backs. The sounds hit next - a cacophonous mix of rubber soles squeaking on polished floors, heavy objects falling and rolling, and the clatter of pins falling into the trap at the far end of the establishment.

It was loud, smelled strange, and the carpet looked lifted straight out of an arcade.

Luka was torn between anxiety, and a strange sort of excitement he hadn't felt in a long, long time. This was something new, something unfamiliar- he had hours to enjoy himself, and spend time not worrying about stresses of life. Harriet had a sitter, paid in advance with an alarm for when he would return, and he was out with- friends? Had him accepting this invitation solidified their friendship at this point? ...the thought made a happy butterfly flutter in his stomach.

This would be a great evening, he could feel it.

"Earth to Luka." MJ's amused tone causes Luka to jump. "Something on your mind? You're smiling."

"Oh- uh- nothing," Luka says, scratching behind his head sheepishly. "Just- thanks. For inviting me. I think I really did need this a lot."

"YEAH you do!" Clover thumps him on the back with one hand. "Come on! You have to give your shoes to the clerk so they can give you your bowling shoes."

"Ah, what? I have to take off my shoes on this carpet?" Luka complains, lifting a foot with distaste. "I feel like I'm stepping on twenty-year-old candy."

"It's part of the charm!" Clover sings, already removing one of her sneakers. "It's either this, or slip all over the place on the actual alley floor. You're getting the full bowling experience whether you like it or not, coffee boy."

"Ex-CUSE me!" Luka says with a dramatic gasp, hopping on one foot as he works to remove his own shoes. "I think you will find I'm a coffee man, thank you."

"Coffee twink," Clover counters.

"No, that's MJ."

"HEY! I will call lion's share of the tips for that one," MJ shakes a sneaker at them both in a mock scolding gesture.

"YOU'RE BOTH COFFEE TWINKS," Clover declares to the entire establishment as she fights off her last sneaker, racing for the counter before the others can catch up. "HURRY UP, COFFEE TWINKS, WE NEED TO PICK OUT BOWLING BALLS."

"I have dibs on the galaxy patterned one!" MJ yells after Clover.

Clover gives MJ an evil grin as she takes her bowling shoes and pays the rental fee, tying them before sauntering over to the racks of bowling balls. Her hand hovers over the selection, giving a teasing pause over the bowling ball made with swirled star plastic.

"Don't you dare," MJ hisses from the counter, pointing an accusing finger at Clover as he hands over the money for both his and Luka's rental shoes.

"It's either the tips share, or the bowling ball! You decide!" Clover yells back, drumming her fingers on the coveted starry bowling ball.

"Fiiiiine," MJ says with a dramatic tone, though his smile gives away his mirth. "You know I wasn't going to take the tips anyway, Clo."

"I know~" she says, giggling while she moves on to a different rack of bowling balls. "And you know I wouldn't do that to your poor weak arms, either, Moonie."

Luka finishes tying his rental shoes, thanking MJ before he makes his way down the small stairway to the alleys. It's very bright in this section of the building, with cushioned couches surrounding tables and standing consoles. Metal railings and a chute of some kind were positioned at each alleyway, some with bowling balls sitting idle atop the metal racks.

"So, what now?" Luka asks, the excitement of wading into unknown waters welling in his chest again.

"Pick a bowling ball!" Clover says, gesturing to the racks of heavy plastic spheres. "You'll want a heavy one, but not too heavy for you to lift and throw."

"Go easy on us, Clover." MJ shakes his head as he picks up his favorite starry ball. "Ms. Gun Show and her fourteen-pound bowling ball."

The redhead leans over and scoops up a swirled green bowling ball, hefting it on one arm and pumping it like a weight.

"You might get some guns yourself if you helped me landscape and move sod around my garden, Coffee Twink #1," she says, flexing a bicep.

"I refuse to acknowledge that nickname."

"Sorry, it's our team name now," Clover laughs, "the Coffee Twinks!"

"Hey, I thought our team name was the Comets?!"

"That was before Luka joined the team - now it's a 2-to-1 twink majority, I don't make the rules."

Luka just has his face in his hands, laughing through the whole exchange as he leans on the metal racks.

"You're just as bad as Harriet!" Luka laughs, pushing his hair back out of his eyes with one hand. "I don't even know where she learned that word - Cookie's daughter, probably?"

"Definitely," MJ says with a thousand yard stare, earning more laughter from Luka. "Go pick a bowling ball, I'll get the console up and running for our game."

Wiping tears from his eyes, chuckling under his breath, Luka turns to the racks and peruses the selection. The bowling balls come in all colors - most are black or dark brown, but there's a rather delightful mix of brighter hues like pink, blue and yellow. Some are marbled, some have glitter in the plastic, and a few very beat-up bowling balls have graphics of cartoon characters that were popular in the 90s. Well-loved by the children who patronize this establishment, he was sure. Harriet would love the Scooby-Doo ball - oh no wait. The one themed after a Pokeball, for sure was her poison of choice. And clearly the pick of the litter for many other children, as it was covered in scratches and dents from decades of use.

Ah- there was one themed after a jack-o-lantern! How fitting. He loops his fingers into the grip holes of the bowling ball, and heaves it off of the rack- only to almost crush his toes as the weight yanks his arms to the floor.

That was- heavier than expected!

"Oooooh, nice pick," Clover says, spinning her own bowling ball in her hands. "You sure you can carry it, though? That's a 10-pounder."

"I'll be fine-" Luka says, grunting as he lifts it back up with both hands this time. "Just- caught me off guard, is all."

"Alright, game's all set," MJ announces from the console.

Above their heads, a large tube television flashes blue before displaying a score board.

A loud k-chunk k-chunk k-chunk of machinery draws Luka's eye toward the other end of the alley. Metal rigging and machinery descend from the covered roof of the pin trap. Resembling a large soda crate, the rig drops an array of ten white bowling pins, before unclamping and ascending back into the darkness of whatever creation of god resided in that ceiling.

"You're up first, Clo," MJ says, waving a hand to indicate she should move forward.

"Watch and learn," Clover throws Luka a smile, the competitive taunt dampened by her genuinely helpful tone. "You want to throw the ball so it rolls like this-"

Stepping forward onto the squeaky, smooth polished wooden platform, Clover lifts her bowling ball to her chest. With a quick inhale, she lopes forward two steps, swinging her arm back with the bowling ball, before reeling it forward on the last stride and underhand throwing it into the aisle. The heavy green bowling ball lands with a tHDD before skidding its way down the oiled track, rolling in a long, smooth line. The swirled green sphere smacks into the bowling pins with a loud tHWAKK!!, sending all but one of the pins flying into the darkness beyond. The ball disappears into the hole, and Clover puts her hands on her hips with a huff.

"Damn, almost got a strike." Clover snaps her fingers, shrugging. The green bowling ball clatters back up the chute. She grips her fingers into the trio of holes again, and goes for another throw.

The bowling ball rolls down the course, straight as an arrow for the last pin. The pin spins off the wooden platform into the darkness, earning a whoop from Clover.

"Nice, got a spare!" Clover declares, throwing her arms up in triumph. She sashays her way back to the couches. "Who's up next?"

"I'm up," MJ says, standing from the console. Looping his fingers into his own starry bowling ball, MJ rolls his shoulders and steps up onto the oiled wooden planks. "I'm going to get the first strike of the day, just wait."

"Sure you will," Clover snickers as MJ winds up.

When he releases the ball, it rolls at very high speed- before curving halfway down the track, the topspin he put on the ball causing it veer off course and land in the gutter.

Face flushed, MJ coughs into his hand, suddenly very invested in fixing his shirt as Clover grins. The galaxy ball returns to the trough, and MJ pointedly picks it up again, winding up for his second throw. The bowling ball rocks down the course, and knocks over about six pins, leaving a corner of the triangle still standing.

"Woo!" Clover cheers, clapping as MJ returns to the seating. She reaches over and nudges Luka on the shoulder. "You're up, Luke! Show us whatchu got!"

Heart in his throat, Luka stands from his seat and steps up.

The bowling ball grins up at him, daring him to chicken out. It was heavy in his hand. Still, he walked up onto the polished floor, feeling the rubber on the bottom of his shoes as it grips the oiled surface.

Fighting the weight of the heavy bowling ball, Luka takes a step forward, swinging his arm back before bringing it back around like a pendulum. The ball hits the track with a heavy thDD as it’s released, sent rolling off down the track. Around the halfway point, it spins off course and lands in the gutter with a clunk.

“Aww,” Clover says, leaning over the chair cushion. “And you had such good posture, too.”

“It’s ok,” MJ speaks up, seeing Luka’s visible embarrassment. “It’s your first time bowling! Nothing to be ashamed of. You have another shot before we rotate players.”

Disappointed, Luka rubs at his arm. Well, that was a less than encouraging performance. But he noticed the angle of the spin on the ball. Maybe he could fix that.

The ball clatters up the chute back into the return trough. Luka picks it up with a huff of breath, holding it to his chest as he does mental calculations. If he turned his wrist at just the right point...

Stepping forward, Luka swings back and releases the ball, putting a top spin on the ball at the last possible moment-

The jack-o-lantern face rockets down the alley, the path straight until the very last second. It curves to hit the front pin from the side, knocking every single pin into the abyss beyond.

"OHHHHH!" Clover and MJ exclaim, clapping with enthusiasm as Luka looks stunned.

"You got a strike!" Clover says, applauding with a big grin. "You were totally pulling our legs about being a newbie to this, huh??"

"I think I just got lucky," Luka tries to play it off, feeling an uncommon shyness as he smiles.

Clover shakes her head, not having it.

"Luck nothing! That was pure talent, and you got a strike, dude!"

"Technically that was a spare, but still a strike in my book," MJ says as he rotates the turn order on the console, giving Luka a smile and a thumbs up.

"Oh let him have it, Moon Moon," Clover laughs as MJ throws her a pout. "Our new boy's got game!"

Luka hunches his shoulders, an awkward smile curling across his cheeks as he walks back over to the couches. Clover jumps to attention and makes her way to the track, picking up her green bowling ball for another round as he sits down.

This was... much more fun than he had expected it to be. The background noise of the bowling alley was surprisingly pleasant. He found he could get used to the dull odor of plastic and cleaner- and honestly, that hot cheese smell from what must be the pizzeria was tempting his stomach. But best of all was the camaraderie he could feel sparking between him, Clover, and MJ. Were they officially friends now? Or had they been already, and he was just- in denial? If Luka was entirely honest with himself, probably the latter. MJ and Clover had been nothing but kind and understanding, to him. His sporadic hours and excuses had done nothing to faze them with regards to their treatment of him at work. They still offered him drinks and invited him on this outing, offering even to pay for his expenses, didn't they?

"Hey Luka!" A call from MJ breaks him out of the small reverie. "You're up, again."

"And after this round, we can hit the arcade! I bet I can out-dance you on DDR, Coffee Twinks," Clover smirks.

"No betting. I know you can."

Maybe- maybe he had nothing to worry about.

---

The evening is going fantastic.

The first bowling game had been a pretty close match between Luka and Clover. Clover had the arm strength to pull off some mean and fast throws, but Luka had developed a system. Figuring out how to spin the bowling ball just the right amount had made up for his noodle arms and less weighty bowling ball. It wasn't long before he figured out how to roll a pretty straight record of spares and strikes, with the occasional 7-10 split. After bowling around, they went into the arcade section, with an entire paper roll of quarters to blow on games. A vicious Ms. Pacman multiplayer match had led to MJ smoking all three of them, and as predicted, Clover out-danced both of the boys on the DDR and Stepmania machines. Luka had to collapse over a nearby chair with exhaustion after his matches. He'd finished off the arcade run with a very lucky pull from a claw machine, winning a black cat plush with big yellow eyes that he was definitely going to enjoy giving to Harriet.

The three of them sat around their table at the bowling console again, laughing over a hot cheese and pepperoni pizza.

"No way, you didn't!" Luka gasps, wheezing for air.

"I did! I punched his goddamn lights out!" Clover laughs, slapping one knee. "The guy was being a huge creep, so I introduced him to my fist."

"I hope you didn't get in trouble with the cops or something for that." Luka tilts his head, giving her an impressed and worried look.

"Can't get in trouble if nobody reports it," MJ chimes in, smirking past his soda cup. "He complained to me, but I had the security tapes AND plausible deniability because I wasn't on the floor. Corporate took our side on this."

"Nobody from the city wants to drive all the way out to podunk Subcon for a random dudebro's complaint." Clover sits back on her cushioned seat, chomping into her pizza happily. "Mmmmm- delicious melty cheese."

Luka chomps into his own pizza, exhaling and blowing on it as it nearly burns his mouth.

"Easy, tiger!" MJ smirks around his own mouthful of pizza.

"I know, it's just so good," Luka says, laughing into his hand as he sips some of his cola. "But in like- the way you know it's not that great? Does that make sense?"

"Night in the Woods taught me the Pizza Scale, and I stick by that," Clover says, crunching through her crust to grab up another slice, washing down the bread with some soda. When she reaches for another piece of the pie, she pauses, and lets out a huff. "Oh, that sucks. I guess they didn't clean the bowling balls that well this time. Gross."

"Hm?" Luka says through a mouthful of pizza.

"Your fingers are all oil-stained from the finger holes on the bowling ball, Luka. Big Al needs to wash the bowling balls properly."

Confused, the law student shifts his attention down.

The ends of his fingertips are discolored with ebony purple.

Luka can feel as his brain zeroes in on the first sign of his impending transformation, and begins to shift into emergency mode as it relays the steps he must take in order to avoid further exposure. He'd gone over this information with himself many times over the past five years. It was ingrained in his mind, what he had to do, the information practically screaming at him. But he can't hear it. His ears are filled with buzzing as reality breaks into the facade he'd slowly built up over the course of hours.

No-

No no no-

His pizza slice drops to the paper plate as he fumbles with his bag, pulling out the cell phone from the liner pocket. Shaking fingers tap the screen with frantic speed, trying to turn the damn thing on-

9:17?

They'd been here nearly four hours?!

He'd spent the morning out with Harriet, doing their grocery shopping and walking around the town's outdoor mall as much needed father-daughter time. Eight hours of being in disguise had long since passed.

His time limit was up.

This couldn't be happening. Yet the numbers stare back at him from the glare of his cell phone screen. They even have the nerve to tick over to 9:18 right before his eyes.

This wasn't happening. This wasn't happening! It wasn't fair!

"Luka, you ok? You're turning pale..."

Clover's question just barely manages to pierce the haze, causing Luka to jolt in his seat. Posture stiff and breath shallow, he lifts his head to meet Clover's questioning eyes. She's staring at him with building concern, her smile becoming a frown of worry.

The tension is palpable in the air as Luka struggles to find words. Finally, he manages to say something.

"It's- it's a quarter past nine-"

"Oh shoot-" Clover says, sitting up abruptly as she grabs her own phone.

MJ checks his watch, wincing. "Oof. Sorry, Luka. I guess we lost track of time passing. I'll apologize to Cookie for the overtime, we can finish this round and go-"

"Don't feel good- going to the bathroom-" Luka wheezes, scrambling to his feet as he scoops all of his belongings into his bag and races past MJ's seat.

"Luka!" Clover yells after him, her heightened concern audible in her voice. "Ok, we'll- we'll start cleaning up! Let us know if you need-!"

Her words are cut off by the slam of the bathroom door. Luka's bowling shoes slip over the slick tile floor, his hands gripping onto the cold porcelain of the bathroom sink to steady himself. He brings his shaking hands up to view in the mirror. The blackening purple skin was spreading up his finger joints, reaching his palms.

No- not now! Why now?

Luka clenches his fists and his jaw, focusing every ounce of his will on making the purple go away. He can almost feel a vein pop on his forehead- if he still had veins, anymore- as he strains to make his unwilling body follow his desires. The purple starts to recede at a caterpillar crawl... but it slows. And the harder he tries, the more he can feel his arms struggle to hold their shape - becoming less solid.

"No- no!" he whimpers, clenching his hands into the sink again. The action splatters small droplets of purple sludge against the porcelain, which vanish moments later as the purple staining once more consumes his fingers - and now his palms. "Stop it! Just- let me be human! Please!"

He lifts his head to the mirror. Despair fills his gut as he sees amber eyes staring back at him in the reflection, and the beginnings of an inner glow fighting to come out from the back of his throat.

Luka lets out a wordless sound of sorrow, lifting an arm to pound one fist against the mirror in vain. The reflection is unfazed in its destitution, tears beginning to gather at the edges of its eyes and mouth set into a sob of clenched teeth. The reflection's canine's lengthen several inches as the eyes stare back, accusingly. The purple was starting to spread up its neck, just poking out the collar of the shirt.

"No..."

This wasn't him. But it had been, years ago. This was SUPPOSED to be him.

He curls his fist, watching as the fingers start losing their shape. Fusing together, becoming single digits and his thumbs vanish back into the purple sludge of the limb.

"I was finally-..." Luka whimpers, "...I finally felt human again."

-bang bang bang-

The sound of a fist knocking on the bathroom door causes Luka to yelp and jump back from the mirror.

"Luka? You ok in there?"

It was MJ.

Peck!

Grabbing his bag, Luka books it into the furthest stall of the bathroom. He slams the metal door behind him, fumbling to lock it with his swelling mitten fingers. Alarm shot through his gut as his shirt felt tight around his torso. Already?? This was faster than usual! Had he really pushed it that much?

"Hey man, are you sick? Clover and I are really concerned. Do you need any help in there?"

"NO! NO I'M GOOD!" Luka yells from the bathroom stall, clapping a two-fingered hand over his mouth as he hears the slight reverb echo to his own voice. Dammit! "I'M JUST- I'LL BE FINE!"

He was not fine, he would most certainly not be fine!

"Luka, you sound croaky." It was Clover this time, probably a short distance behind MJ. "Dude, are you sure? MJ, maybe you should go in and check on him-"

"NO!"

No, the reverb was stronger!

"Luka, I'm coming in."

"MJ it's fine!"

Luka could hear the seams of his shirt starting to stretch and strain. The seconds were ticking by as strings started to pop at the neck.

Shit, shit!

Luka turned left and right, the stall cramped and uncomfortable as the ruff of fur around his neck thickens and threatens to burst his shirt open. He needed a way out!

Aha! A small window, to the outside! Wow, that was probably the worst location for a window. And it was so small-

The door creaked as MJ started to turn the handle.

NO TIME!

Luka makes a dive for the window. His fingers catch on the sill, and he hauls his body up onto the tiny ledge, his head pushing up the glass and emerging out into the open air. Squeezing through the narrow space, he struggles to pull his feet through, kicking off the bowling shoes and hearing them clatter to the tiles below.

The door comes unlatched, and MJ enters the bathroom, looking around with a frown.

Luka was gone. And for some reason, his bowling shoes were abandoned on the questionably cleaned bathroom floor.

Just outside the window, tucked next to the wall of the alleyway outside the bowling alley, Luka is panting with adrenaline. He can feel his chest expand further with each breath, the fur mane around his neck already splitting apart his shirt. His fingers had fully lost their human shape by now, coalescing back into the familiar mitts he hated so much. A reminder that, no, he wasn't human. No matter what those people in the bowling alley thought of him, and what he thought of them in return... no matter how much he wanted to be human, again.

"Luka?"

His entire torso now fully drenched in purple, Luka hangs his head, listening as he fights to strip off the shirt suffocating him.

Footsteps, in the bathroom.

"...Luka? What the-... Clover, he's not here?"

"What?? But he- went into the bathroom! He was just-!"

"His shoes are here..."

"His shoes??"

Luka forces himself to stand, wobbling a bit further away from the window as he focuses all of his efforts on keeping his legs. He can't lose his ability to walk, not in the middle of town!

God dammit... god dammit! Why couldn't he just enjoy his night? Now he was wandering alleyways, half transformed, and MJ and Clover were no doubt worried to hell and back. What could he even say? 'Sorry, had to take a break to wolf out in the bathroom'?

-brrring brrring-

The buzz of the phone in his pants pocket- which was getting tight against his waist, he noticed. Luka quickly extracts the phone before it can be damaged by the fabric.

MJ's caller ID stares back at him from the screen.

The decision to trust these two with his information was biting him in his rapidly purpling behind. He'd been so careful not to slip up, and the ONE TIME he makes a mistake... He had another decision to make. He could not respond, and just be a complete asshole, but he could protect his secret a little safer, for just a little bit longer. Or he could pick up, and... he didn't know. Bullshit something? Would they even believe whatever malarkey he could cook up in seven seconds for bailing out of a bowling alley restroom? God, he was terrible at improvised excuses! He was a lawyer, not an actor! But if he answered the phone call, maybe- maybe he could hold on to that feeling again. The warmth of companionship of peers his age, that he hadn't felt since law school. Since... Vanessa. But he couldn't think about her right now. What mattered was his safety- his daughter's safety.

Peck. He didn't even think about that part. Could he really rip Harriet out of a somewhat stable home life, again? She was just starting to get along with Cookie's daughter, and he didn't want to take that precious first friendship from her.

Luka was only pulled out of the downward spiral by the vibration of the phone, which he only now realized had registered a missed call, and was now on the second call. It was still MJ, the picture of him in his Horizon employee cap still smiling from the bright phone screen.

He had to do something. He could feel his legs protest the form they was struggling to hold.

Survival instinct set in. First, he had to get away from the scene.

Stumbling to his malforming feet, Luka jogs away from the alley, ducking away from the Pins & Cushions and avoiding the bright neon sign on the side of the building.

As he walks, a headache hits, and Luka just knows his face was losing more of his familiar features. Didn't need a mirror to know that he was definitely the shade of a bruised plum, and that his eyes were glowing like gold beacons. The sharp teeth at the edges of his mouth were digging into his bottom lip as he dodges and weaves to avoid line of sight from storefront apartment windows.

The woods were so close by, just a few more blocks.

Faster. He had to run faster. But his legs- were fighting him! Already he could feel his steps become lighter, movement more fluid. It was a struggle to keep a walking stride, rather than just- leap into the air. No way was he going to fly a block from pecking main street.

His phone continues to vibrate, threatening the call to drop.

Right when he reaches the sidewalk, Luka pants for breath, collapsing beside the pole for a street lamp while avoiding the amber spotlight. Taking one last rueful look at his phone, he sighs, and presses the answer button with a doughy purple finger.

"Luka?" MJ's voice patches through. The reception isn't great, but it's sufficient. Maybe that was a lucky break, considering what his voice was going to sound like in a second.

"Hey," Luka answers. Yep. He sounded like a toad that swallowed a brass tube. "Sorry- about that."

"Dude, are you ok?? Where did you go?" MJ spoke so quickly it almost interrupted Luka, concern clear and evident in his voice. "You ran or something and- you left your shoes at the counter, and the cat plush for your daughter. Clover got them for you-"

"It's ok," Luka says, wincing. "I can pick them up tomorrow. I- don't feel well, and I have to go get Harriet."

"Luka, we could have driven you home for that," MJ responds, a hint of hurt and confusion. "You know you can tell us if you're uncomfortable, and want to leave, right?"

"No- this- I was having fun," Luka responds, cupping a hand over his mouth to try to muffle the echo. He had to wrap this up. His voice was getting less natural by the second. He really hoped the poor reception would mask it. "Look- I'm sorry MJ. But I really had to go."

"You're not getting kidnapped or something are you?" Clover's distant voice suddenly patches through in the phone. MJ must have his phone on speaker. "Because if you are, I'll hunt them down! Just yell where the car is taking you!"

"I'm not- look, I'm sorry, but I just had to go, ok?" Luka says. "Harriet needs me."

"I thought you were feeling sick?" Clover says, her worried tone now tinted with... suspicion. "You ran to the bathroom, and we were all worried about you, dude." Her voice becomes just a bit distant, as she turns to speak to MJ, but the phone picks it up. “Actually, did we ever hear anything from Cookie...?”

"No- I am-" Luka can feel his lies crumbling, nearly becoming true as he experiences a sensation similar to his stomach heaving from the anxiety. "Thanks for the wonderful evening, I'll pick up my stuff later- bye!"

"Wait-!!"

-click-

MJ's protest is cut off, and Luka set the phone down on the grass, putting his head in the other hand. That was terrible. But he couldn't back out on it now. He would just have to deal with the consequences of that phone call tomorrow.

Not like having shoes or not bothered him, anyway.

Exhausted and resigned, Luka slides away from the lamp post into the chaparral, and begins rapidly pulling his shirt over his head. No way was he going to lose another shirt, not after the last one. This was his last nice shirt, and he intended to keep it as long as possible!

A quiet gasp jolts him out of his frantic folding.

Luka whips around, shirtless, half de-pantsed, and his body a full shade of deep shadow purple. His golden eyes glow in the reflected street light as he freezes on the spot, making eye contact with another human being across the road. It was the stocky mustachioed man from the coffee shop- the regular who came by and sketched quietly in a corner. Pinstriped suit- which seemed to be the only outfit anyone ever saw him wore- an apron, and grey khaki pants. The thick glasses would make it difficult to tell where he was looking, if the man wasn't standing with his square jaw hanging down at his chest, head angled directly toward Luka. Everyone dismissed him as a paranoiac, a hermit who stopped by for his morning caffeine fix and quiet atmosphere to indulge in his imagination. Rumors flew that he used to work for some sort of tabloid magazine, and was fired- or promoted?- for how crazy his stories were.

Whatever the reason, this man was now standing, groceries dropped to the pavement, and staring at Luka. A very half-naked, absolutely not human-looking Luka.

Face suddenly burning hot with embarrassment and fear, Luka grabs his belt loops and bolts into the trees.

The movement causes the man to only gape more, making a wordless noise of astonishment before the forest breaks their line of sight and Luka retreats into the safety of the woods. Luka just barely remembers to grab his shirt and belt from the bushes. Vanishing entirely from sight, stumbling over debris as his transformation takes full hold of his body, Luka wheezes as his heart beats in his chest. After all that, he was seen! Peck! Did he just ruin everything because he wasn’t paying attention? But- but it was just the local hermit, the resident conspiracy nut. That wouldn’t be so bad, right? This wasn’t as catastrophic as being spotted by a teen with a cell phone open. Surely, this was the safest possible person in town to accidentally spot him mid-transformation. Repercussions would be minimal.

Thank god the man didn't have a camera.

#Coffee Shop Au #AHIT #A Hat In Time #doodledrawsthings #Snatcher #Hat Kid #Moonjumper #Clover #noticed a couple mistakes and it's too late to fix em wHOOPS #OH WELL

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bamfdaddio · 3 years

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X-Men Abridged: 1981 - the Body-Swap

The X-Men, those body-swapping mutants that have sworn to protect a world that hates and fears them, are a cultural juggernaut with a long, tangled history. We’ve been untangling that history for a while, but sometimes, you really want a more in-depth look. Interested? Then read the (un)Abridged X-Men!

(Uncanny X-Men 151 - 152) - by Chris Claremont and Josef Rubinstein

Emma Frost and her frenemy Ororo Munroe have not been getting along! One fateful evening, as the two quibble away, they mysteriously switch bodies and minds. Talk about your Freaky Friday! What lessons will they learn, walking a mile in one another’s shoes? And will they be able to switch back, or will they stay in each other’s bodies forever? Mutant Monday, coming soon to a cinema near you. Starring: Elizabeth Banks, Angela Bassett and Elliot Page. (PG-13)

For a moment, we’re in a proper period drama: a letter delivers ill tidings!

I love that Kitty’s parents are so self-involved that it took them A WHOLE YEAR to realize that it’s weird that Kitty is the only non-adult attending the Xavier Institute.

I can only assume the mailman interrupted a pool party of some kind? Or a communal shower? I get why Kurt would not swim a lot - all that fur - but did Scott wear that while they were splashing around? Was it a beach volleyball competition where one half got to wear swimsuits and the other half superhero costumes? Most importantly, was Scott’s costume always this tight?

Not that I’m complaining, mind you.

The awful thing is that Kitty’s parents are transferring her to the Massachusetts Academy, not realizing that headmistress Emma Frost is, in fact, a terrible human being. Charles, uncharacteristically, says that changing their minds telepathically is a line he does not cross (any more) and half the viewing audience bursts out in laughter. More importantly, last they saw Emma, she was kind of dead-by-Phoenix, so it might be better there this time? Kitty does a Classic Teenage Stomp-Off and Storm comes to comfort her. Kitty cries that life is unfair (“My parents are only doing this because they’re splitting up”) and Ororo tells her that yes, life is unfair. You just gotta roll with the punches as best you can.

To be fair, bald men are technically all cheek, so it doesn’t matter where you kiss them.

While I enjoy the relationship Kitty has with the other X-Men (Scott gave her a compliment! Logan told her his name!), especially the mother-daughter-bond she shares with Ororo, the whole Piotr-thing always gives me pause. Even if we’re being very generous with age, Kitty is, what? 14 going on 15? And Piotr is… 19? At best? I get why Kitty would have a crush on him: he’s a gentle hunky giant: at fifteen, my teenage ass would have felt the exact same viz-a-viz Colossus’ upper arms. The fact that Piotr reciprocates feels skeevy, though, especially because they’re always treated like star-crossed idiots these days.

Skee-vy.

Ororo drives Kitty to Massachusetts, where her young ward is greeted by someone named Muffy and whisked away for orientation. All seems well. Ororo stands in a parlour, surveying the grounds and considering that they should have fought harder for Kitty. Still, nothing seems too wrong just yet: this Academy just seems very preppy.

Not-at-all-dead Emma takes her cue and jumps out, saying (essentially): “Surprise motherfucker.”

There’s a flash of light, and then...

I’m willing to bet that Emma’s EVIL journal has the following to-do-list: - Steal Storm’s body. - Experiment with her powers. - See how good Storm looks in white. (Leather? Fur?! Both!??) - REWARD: Smoke break.

I wonder if Emma’s plan hinged on being able to body-swap with Storm, or whether any X-Man would have sufficed. Was her original target Xavier? Cyclops? What if one of Kitty’s parents had brought her to Massachusetts, would she have taken Kitty instead?

In a locked cell, Storm wakes up in Emma’s body and is horrified. I wonder why Emma didn’t take any more precautions. Couldn’t the guy who made the freaky friday-gizmo also make a power dampener to nullify not!Emma’s telepathic abilities? Or did Emma count on her victim being so utterly incapacitated by her mind-powers that they’d be driven mad? (This would actually tie in with some of Emma’s later-revealed history: when her powers first emerged, she also got locked away in a padded room because of her madness.)

Emma is not wrong, by the way: Storm can’t get a handle on Emma’s powers. What follows is possibly the sweetest moment in an arc filled with sweet moments:

This arc isn’t drawn by any of the regulars - not Byrne, not Cockrum - but Josef Rubinstein brings his own kind of panache to the pages. I love the way he draws women’s faces: in a story that’s all about women, their faces are actually distinguishable. Kudoz.

Emma, meanwhile, coordinates with Sebastian Shaw to execute the second part of their two-pronged attack on the X-Men. They both laugh evilly in their phones while the mansion is attacked by Sentinels! These androids take out Cyclops and Xavier with some sleeping gas and knock out Nightcrawler, but the rest of the X-Men manage to trounce these robots. Then ‘Storm’ appears! She zaps the rest of the X-Men (and Amanda Sefton), successfully finishing their master-plan.

It’s not entirely clear what the Hellfire Club wants with the X-Men this time, but I’m assuming it’s more experimentation to improve the sentinels? Eh, doesn’t matter! Nefarious Hellfire Club is nefarious.

The real Storm, meanwhile, comes to claim Kitty, forgetting that she looks like the one and only Emma Frost. Kitty spooks and Storm accidentally reaches out, knocking her out telepathically. Whoops! Storm takes Kitty and flees in a car, while Emma gives chase. (How dare Ororo run off with her body, which is absolutely the kind of hypocritical hilariousness we all love Emma for.)

Kitty awakens and jumps from the car, causing Storm to swerve and...

JETSTREAM!? Speaking of which, where are the Hellions in all of this?

Kitty sees that an unconscious ‘Emma’ is about to burn to a tender and moist little crisp and she is faced with the hero’s dilemma: would you save a villain that would never save you?

Emma, meanwhile, has realized the downside to body-swapping: somebody else gets to run around with your body too. Shaw, of all people, talks her down from her anger.

You can’t just introduce a persona exchange gun to the plot WITHOUT EXPLAINING WHERE THE FUCK YOU GOT IT FROM.

My favorite detail is that Emma keeps calling Kitty brat, like she’s some sort of Pokémon-villain.

Kitty, meanwhile, has saved ‘Emma’ and tied her up with a special knot. Storm tries to convince Kitty, going for the “ask me something only Storm would know”, but Kitty’s all: “Duh, you’re a telepath.” Ororo insists, but the thing that clinches it is when she breaks free of her ties without breaking a sweat. That knot was taught to Kitty by Ororo and she’d be the only one who knew how to break out of it.

Storm and Kitty recruit Stevie Hunter to come pick them up and during the ride, Storm-being-angry-mother!Storm convinces Kitty more than anything else:

After all, Storm was voted most likely to say: “If you don’t stop this nonsense immediately, I will turn this Blackbird around, so help me God!”

Ororo and Kitty sneak inside. Ororo even uses Emma’s telepathy to help her pick a lock after phasing through a door. (Kind of funny: Kitty’s still such a neophyte that she can’t even phase with anyone else yet.) Emma, meanwhile, taunts the captured X-Men, presenting herself as the new white queen:

Anybody feel the inclination to point out that the Hellfire Club did this exact same thing last year, except then they tried it with a redhead?

I secretly suspect that the Hellfire Club’s plots always revolve around seducing X-Men to their side and dressing them up in sexy lingerie. (Which: fair.) There’s also a subplot where the guys Wolverine cut apart last year want to exact revenge on him for being made bionic, but eh. We’ll start paying attention to them when they become actual Reavers.

Kitty phases through the locks of the X-Men, freeing them, and a kerfuffle ensues. Emma starts using Storm’s powers, but they grow out of control. Colossus tosses Shaw out of the window - which should just be company policy, really: all Shaws should be defenestrated - where he’s promptly hit by a rogue thunderbolt.

When he doesn’t get up, Emma starts to lose it. The weather goes wild. Storm intervenes, using her telepathic power to help calm down Emma (and the raging storm), but she also manages to get a hold of the swap-gun. There’s a zap, and with a satisfied sigh, the status-quo is restored again.

My favorite implication is that, apparently, Emma decides which school Kitty attends and not her parents.

While this little arc is neither the most iconic nor the most profound of 1981 -- those would be Days of Future Past and I, Magneto, respectively -- I still love this for a couple of reasons.

As a lover of Freaky Friday, 17 Again and the new Jumanji-film, I just have a soft spot for body swap plots. (Hi Psylocke!)

It focuses on the Xavier Institute as a school, planting seeds for the upcoming New Mutants.

It is very female-driven without beating you over the head with it. (Looking at you, Birds of Prey.)

It has three definitive main characters, who all get fleshed out in fun and interesting ways. It starts the trend of robbing Ororo of some of her powers and tossing her into against-the-odds circumstances, only for her to come out on top.

It solidifies the Storm/Kitty mother/daughter (or older/younger sibling) dynamic. Kitty is a believable teenager when it comes to Storm - clever and kind, but also looking for answers and prone to rash decisions - and I love how much they care for each other.

Jean/Storm-friendship-callback, yay!

Emma gets fleshed out as a villain. Resourceful and petty, powerful and vain. It’s no wonder she’s one of the break-out antagonists of the X-Men, because, like Magneto, Claremont is not afraid of giving her depth. Arguably, she is the most three-dimensional of the Hellfire Club at this point.

Yay! And fuck completely sensible plots, if you don’t know what to do with your plot, just introduce a random persona exchange gun. Let’s use it on Xavier and Legion in Way of X next!

#x-men abridged #abridged x-men #x-men #storm #professor x #kitty pryde #uncanny x-men #emma frost #cyclops #nightcrawler #stevie hunter #colossus #sebastian shaw

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gojology · 4 years

Text

Job Benefits. (Part 4)

❝...𝑪𝑶𝑴𝑬 𝑶𝑵, 𝑺𝑷𝑰𝑻 𝑰𝑻 𝑶𝑼𝑻.❞

CONSPIRING. - Chapter Four

you can find part three here :

part three : routines

pairing : ceo! gojo x female reader warnings : cursing, no proof reading, no editing wordcount : 2494 a/n : this is so bad, i... i am so sorry. in my defense i haven’t written in a while, but i hope u guys still like this regardless </3

Almost immediately after stepping foot into the room, you’re greeted with a minimalist, yet clean looking interior. Large window panes with Tokyo’s beautiful sunlight filtering into the already lively room. There’s a few co-workers you can see sitting by the vending machines on plush arm-rest chairs, the cushions colored a beautiful tan alongside oak wood arm rests and chair legs. Others are on their phone, texting and furiously tapping and a feeling of anxiety immediately eats you up whole. You were seriously starting to regret coming down here, what was the point other then to make Gojo jealous? You could’ve very well eaten in your office- and what you were doing was childish anyways. You stood in the entrance way of the room, nervously fidgeting, eyes scanning for Keto Sugaeru amongst the faces that were starting to blend in. You can only vaguely remember how he looks like from the few visits he had made to Gojo’s office, jet black hair, usually tied in a bun, always a kind, yet careless smirk on his face. He was handsome, which would be a definitive beacon amongst the rather disgruntled looking office workers. “Hey, are you gonna move or what? Blocking the damn way.” You hear a gruff impatient voice behind you, and you twist around, stumbling with the newfound height of your high heels as you did so. A man’s eyes bored into your own, glaring at you with a mix of hatred and annoyance. You gulp, finding yourself unable to respond, instead averting your gaze to the floor meekly. “You gonna talk? We don’t have all day, sheesh, they’re hiring anyone into the workforce nowadays huh-” “I’m sorry- I uh, I’m r-really new here so...” modestly giving the man a kind smile, but he seemed to have no patience for you. As if a divine being heard his rude comment and immediately swept down with some karma, a firm, large hand is placed onto the man’s shoulder that you hadn’t seen prior. It gripped the flesh tightly, and the mysterious man glared directly down at the now squeaking rude one. “Did I hear that right?” is all he says, a few co-workers are twisting their heads towards the altercation, now you’re sweating bullets. You grip onto your lunch so tightly you’re afraid it might burst, and those incredibly long fingers of his are inching towards the stout man’s collar. Eventually, the perplexing man smiles kindly, retracting his hands to his sides, now lifeless and slack. “Please, Nishima, refrain from picking on people. We don’t tolerate this in the office, and don’t be dumb enough to do it in front of someone who has direct connections to the Gojo family. Run along now, I’ll leave you off at a warning. You’re lucky I’m in a good mood.” The man grumbled a few times, kicking at the floor before heading out, you turn your head to thank the man, looking at him with an admirable gaze, but you realize something- He has the jet black long hair you were searching for before any of this happened, it’s tied up in a bun, and it looked ridiculously smooth and soft. Something you’d pay to drag your hands through and play with. He has that carefree grin displayed on his handsome features, shamelessly showing off his good looks. Tall, and he definitely had a familiar voice that took you a while to put a finger on it. This had to be him. “You frozen girlie? I haven’t seen you around in the lunch room- here go sit there, that seat’s super comfy.” he gestures to one chair, and you snap out of your trance, nodding in response, yet still unable to fully register what just happened to you. “Sugaeru?” you blurt out, your eyes wide while stumbling like a just born fawn towards the spotless table. How good was your luck today? He came to you. “Suguru.” he corrects, looking back at you, a teasing curve to his lips. “Holy, you completely butchered my name, I think I know you from somewhere-” for a second, he looks like he’s seriously thinking before he beams. “You’re Gojo’s secretary, Y/N, aren’t you? What brings you down here? Gojo told me that you’re usually reserved in your own little world and you do everything in your office.” You stammer, still unable to believe your luck, but your shoulders are relaxing and the tension has completely evaporated into thin air. “Uh, yeah I’m Satoru’s secretary. I- Um, I wanted to... Get some water?” that was a horrible lie, even for you. “Rookie mistake.” Suguru pulls out the aforementioned chair for you before walking to the other side of the table to place his lunch on the tabletop carefully. “Water here is super overpriced. You should bring some from your own house if that’s the case! Colleague to colleague, just don’t tell anyone I said that, or else I’ll get in trouble.” winking at you, he twists the lid to his container presumably holding his food, instantaneously a cloud of steam emerges and a delicious scent wafts through the room. After a moment of silence between the two of you as you both opened your lunches, you clear your throat, meaning to make conversation. “Thank you for saving me back there.” sheepishly, you smile at him. “It’s really appreciated, I just couldn’t believe how rude a person could be, especially since u-uh... You know, he could’ve, like, just walked around me?” stuttering, you grab your utensils in an effort to look relaxed and comfortable, even though you had no idea how to speak to him. “Atta girl, no problem.” he responds warmly. You feel safe in his shadow. “Hey, if your Gojo’s friend, you’re my friend. Don’t worry about it. I heard you’re new to the office.” he pauses, looking around the now bustling room before covering the sides of his mouth and whispering towards you. “Secretary position was open for a while because no sane person in Tokyo wants to be Gojo’s secretary.” sitting back down while snickering, he takes a bite out of his lunch. Giggling, you finally ease up. As opposed to Gojo, Suguru’s more sincere and straight to the point. He’s funny in his own way without being obnoxious. You scoff. “Yeah, I can see how anyone could go insane from working with the guy. It was the only good secretary position open, though...” you muse aloud. Suguru crosses his arm over his chest, your eyes carefully surveying his attractive figure as he does so, a thoughtful smile on his face. “Well, imagine being friends with him for more than 15 years. I’m sure I’ve gotten a few screws loose.” he says suggestively, wriggling his eyebrows. You cover your mouth, trying not to laugh- but it just spills out of your lips, and you forget that you just met the guy, that’s just how friendly he was. “Don’t say that!” “What? It’s true!” You didn’t quite know it just that, but a seed was planted that day- you and Geto’s relationship, and it would only blossom from there. ‧₊˚✩彡. Gojo’s paranoid. It seems like there’s a secret that he’s not in on, he realizes that Geto’s visits to his office are growing more and more frequent, yet he spends less time at his office, rather, spends all of his time at yours. Feeling left out was never a positive emotion. In response, Gojo would increase his visiting between the two of you, “accidentally” walking in on the both of you casually chatting, but it’s like he’s a ghost in the room. He’d get a few lukewarm stares and a few polite greetings, but that was that. He’s not sure if it’s jealousy, or what. He knows he should be supportive of his best friend potentially getting a girlfriend, and he tries to be- but something about Geto and you together really pissed him off, he just doesn’t know why. Maybe it’s the way the pairing between you two seemed so natural, it would be almost sure that a relationship would occur soon that angered him. Having dating co-workers was almost never a good thing. Deep down he knows that’s not it. As the weeks past by, the visiting grew almost unbearable, hearing your laughter- your giggles- from jokes that weren’t from him was infuriating. Listening to the repetitive clicking of your heels down the stairs into the break room was driving him insane, and eventually he can’t even open an email or do anything involved with work. You and Geto were constantly on his mind, and he’s morbidly curious as to when the friendship occurred- or if it was possibly more than that. His first attempt at getting to the bottom of things was bringing it up between the two of them, him and Geto, just as casual chit-chat, but it didn’t go exactly as planned. Geto would have a sympathetic, almost mocking grin on his lips, but those eyes of his were telling enough. It was a whole other book of lust and need, for you. Brushing the topic off with a wave of dismissal, he’d chuckle and put a mask of friendliness on, but Gojo’s known Geto enough to see where this was going. He couldn’t have this, everything was brought to him on a silver platter, so it was only natural for him to feel like he needs you, even if he didn’t. Perhaps you were another trophy to his endless collection to him, he just didn’t know. He’d never felt so strongly of a woman, much less his secretary, something was brewing inside of him. One thing he doesn’t understand is why Geto. He’s flawless in appearance, restless, impossibly good at sex, why weren’t you stroking his ego? Whatever, this was another topic of conversation, what he needed to do now was win you back. He calculated in his office the average time in which Geto would visit, music drowning out the muffled talking, and finally he’s ready and absolutely certain that this would be a good time to chat you up. Having everything planned out, an aura of confidence radiated from him. “Y/N!” you hear a chirp from the door, lifting your head up in excitement, you realize it’s not your beloved Suguru, rather, it’s Gojo. Gluing your eyes back on your computer screen, not even bothering to peel them away, you clear your throat in acknowledgement. “Sir?” A smug grin flickers across his face for just a second before he pulls out one of the chairs across from your desk, scooching it a bit further away for some extra leg room before promptly sitting down. “Knew you’d remember to call me sir, I knew I hired well when you stepped into the interview room, so sharp.” You don’t detect a shred of sarcasm in his compliment, and finally you turn your gaze upon his face. This was certainly out of the ordinary for you, as he hadn’t visited as often with Geto in the picture now. Gojo’s not wearing the iconic black shades that concealed his cerulean eyes, now, they’re out for you- his private audience. His eyes are brimming with energy and mischief, almost like a child’s. They’re transfixing, like diamonds handpicked and placed into his eyes. You’re overwhelmed from your work once again- a direct consequence of Gojo neglecting his own, yet something about this greeting reminded you of one of the first few times he had visited you, when he stole your carrot pen. Thus, causing you to direct your undivided attention towards him, he seemed promising, after all, what was the worst that could happen? “That’s besides the point, Mr. Satoru. Is there any reason why you came here? I’m actually finishing up a report right now and the deadline is in two days.” taking your coffee mug up from it’s usual spot on the tabletop, you sigh in relief as the warm liquid goes down your throat and set it back down, anticipating his answer. In usual fashion, Gojo chuckles good-heartedly. “It’s your fourth month anniversary you’ve been working here, or third, or second, fuck like I remember. This is a cause for celebration and you’re worrying about finishing up a report?” “You’d know better then to come to me with an offer of slacking off if you knew my fourth month anniversary of working here was coming up.” you respond coolly. His eyes slightly widen, before he lets out a dry chuckle. “Ah, I missed my sassy secretary, say, why don’t we celebrate? We can go out for a staff dinner in celebration. I’ll pay, no need to worry. It’ll be confidential information between the two of us.” tugging at his collar, he quirks an eyebrow, you’re visibly thinking. “Does this imply you want this dinner to only be between the two of us? Why’s that?” you pry, a tinge of hesitance in your pitch. Ah, shit. This was going off the tracks. Gojo taking a hand to his chest defensively, he loudly announced, “It’s important to build a positive connection between the two of us! We’ll be working together for years to come, of course. So skeptical of you, why do you look so down?” the retort was cheeky, and good at that, as it left you speechless. “I’m not sad, or anything-” you pause, your mind had gone blank. “I- Um... I-” attempting to return to your work instead, you give him a dirty look, but he stares back with such intensity you don’t know how to feel. “I’m doing work, don’t screw up my train of thought, please?” “You definitely weren’t saying that when I offered to take you out to eat, come on, spit it out.” he tsks. Utterly defeated, you sigh. “I wanted to invite someone.” you spit out, obviously embarrassed. Gojo pretends to act shocked, before excitedly inquiring, “And who might that be?” “G-Geto.” there was no point in lying now. He oohs, looking down at your shaking hands and back up at your face. “Ooooh, Y/N has a crush on my best bud? Who woulda thought!?” Your cheeks going warm, you shake your head furiously. “No I don’t! I- Mr. S- Sir! This is so unprofessional of you!” stuttering, you drop your head on the desk, arms pillowing the sides of your head and groaning. “How cute. Anyways, you accept that dinner date?” You lift your head back up, sniffling. “It’s not a date!” Giving you a shit-eating grin again, his eyes twinkle. “Oh, but it is.” “I- Aghhhhh!” putting your head back down on the desk, this time without your arms, you don’t know how to respond, so instead you make a mockery of yourself. Laughing, Gojo decides not to tease and you and instead says, “Meet me in Shibuya district, there’s a super nice restaurant, I’ll drive to your house, no need to worry about transportation. 9 PM, see you there!” his voice grew more distant down the hallway, you can still hear the clicking of his shoes and his deep humming. So you had a date tonight, Now how would that go?

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genshin-impacted · 4 years

Text

campfire stories // Childe x Reader (sfw)

Word Count: 2.3k

Notes: gender neutral reader, reader pov, (implied mutual pining), takes place in 1.2, hints to Childe’s Story Quest, but no direct spoilers, a LOT of bantering

an indulgent fic combo w/ character analysis of Childe and the reader’s inner turmoil in regards to their (developing) feelings for him

Summary: You walk on this tightrope, balancing the tension that exists on being on opposite sides and the comfort that comes with easy conversation and undemanding company. So you let yourself worry about Childe. How could you not when you look at Childe and see someone with an easy attitude, carefree laughter despite his guarded eyes?

For when you talk to him, you are reminded of home-- for better or for worse.

Here is the accompaniment/sequel fic: Letters to Home!

As a wanted person, there were few places you could safely invite yourself into. It is strange being received in such a manner when you were so welcomed back in Mondstadt, but you understand why, as a foreigner, you would pose the most threat to Liyue considering the recent death of the geo archon.

(The fact you keep getting dragged into political turmoil is concerning, to say the least, though you have a feeling your path is going to continue to be full of trouble.

You try not thinking of brown tousled hair and blue eyes and fail. Childe is, after all, the epitome of trouble.)

Luckily, you are used to camping out in the wilderness. Despite Paimon’s whines, she is also at ease surrounded by nature, with easy access to food and fresh air. Though both of you still wish you were able to sleep in an actual bed as you did at Wangshuu Inn, considering how close to the harbor you actually were.

When the moon fully rises above the two of you, Paimon is fast asleep within the tent while you tend to the flickering embers of the campfire, basking in the silence that solitude brings you. Though your moments to be alone are soon interrupted when you hear the crunching of grass underneath the footsteps of another, and you turn, alert, to see who approaches.

"Oh, what a surprise,” Childe says, coming down from the darkness of the hills. You can hear as much as you can see the amusement on his visage that you have become accustomed to seeing often. “Fancy meeting you here.”

"It really isn’t,” you reply back dryly, looking at the measly tent, the small campfire, and two logs that you placed in front of them as temporary seats. You try to not be embarrassed as Childe looks around with too much care. “You got something to say about my lovely campsite?” You ask, knowing full well you played into his hands when he laughs and waves a flippant hand. You roll your eyes, a small smile lifting your lips as you watch him patter around your set-up, only for you to notice a gash on his wrist-- maroon in color. And once you see that, you begin to notice other wounds scattered along his body like red paint splashes on a grey canvas.

He’s hurt, you think, and worry bubbles in your chest before you can tell yourself it’s a bad idea.

You shouldn’t be concerned, knowing who he is and who he works for. The last time you met up with a Fatui Harbinger (other than Childe, that is), she almost killed you and Paimon after stealing something that didn’t belong to her. You think you’re allowed to associate the Fatui with cold smiles and brutal actions.

But Childe is different. You find yourself relaxing in his presence before you remember who you’re talking to, but you wish you didn’t have to put your guard up for unsavory ulterior motives in the first place. It’s not as if you don’t see how Childe’s amiable smile can so easily turn icy or that his proclivity for violence is something dangerous in and of itself, but you wish these things were something you didn’t have to worry about.

There is a constant strain in your friendship, if you can call it that-- for no matter how many times you banter easily in a way that has you almost forgetting you’re on opposite sides, you remember Venti, and the suspicion wedges itself in between the two of you. You walk on this tightrope, balancing the tension that exists on being on opposite sides and the comfort that comes with easy conversation and undemanding company.

So you let yourself worry about Childe. How could you not when you look at Childe and see someone with an easy attitude, carefree laughter despite his guarded eyes?

(You never thought you would ever be involved with someone in such a complicated and convoluted way, but you can't help but crave the way you and Childe clash so casually, reminiscent of your friends back in your world.

You talk to him and are reminded of home, for better or for worse.

And if you think his smile is charming or that his eyes remind you of the ocean, you try not to.)

“Hey,” you start, gesturing toward him nonchalantly, “why are you so beat up?”

Childe chuckles, rubbing the back of his head, and you can see dried blood sticking to the tips of his hair. "Stumbled into a few ruin guards," he tells you, and you immediately translate that to ‘I picked a fight with them.’ As if knowing your train of thought, he quickly changes the subject. “You know, it shouldn’t be that bad trying to find an inn to take you in.” He grins, despite the look you threw at him. “You could just… provide the owners with extra incentive to let you under their roof.”

“Does it look like I’m made of money to you?” You retort, “Also, I can’t believe you’re trying to brush off the fact that you willingly walked into the ruins to fight them.”

Despite your snappy tone, Childe only laughs, and you can't help but be pleased that the conversation between the two of you is quick and smooth-- natural. “You know me so well already,” he says. “Have you been paying a little extra attention to me lately?”

“Can't help it," you reply sarcastically, "you're a walking disaster, can't keep my eyes off of you." You smile when he laughs. “Anyway, come over here,” you say, rummaging through your backpack to find the medical tape. “You look like you’re one flesh wound away from dying.”

You savor the moment of silence as Childe blinks at you in confusion.

“...ah, are you going to dress my wounds? Worried for me, are you? How kind of you.” You can hear the teasing tone in his voice, but it is gentler in a way you did not anticipate. He looks at you with a softened gaze, and you can feel your face warm for reasons other than the campfire, so you roughly pat the log next to you, ignoring his grin.

“No, this is actually my diabolical plan to end you once and for all,” you tell him, waiting as he takes off his top to bear his back to you.

He glances back and you must have been too slow to train your expression to a more neutral one because he winks at you. “Be gentle, alright?”

"I'm going to be the opposite just because you said that," you say, snickering as you sweep off the caked blood where the scratches have healed over. You think briefly that joking aside, it was strange that Childe would trust you to not stab him in the back, but it passes as soon as it comes when you finally see how many scars he actually has littered all over his body.

“Admiring my battle scars? Shall I let you take a look at every one of them?” You hear him say, and you bluster in silence as he laughs. “No need for ointment,” Childe says, when he hears you twist open an herbal soother. “I’ll be fine.”

Without warning, you slather a healthy amount of antibiotic cream onto his wounds. He yelps at the coldness of the balm, and you can’t help the laugh that bursts from your lips when he turns to you with a pout.

It's ridiculous to think that this man whose lower lip was protruding because of your mischievous administration was the 11th Harbinger, but you're starting to think part of the appeal is because this side of him is so unexpected to see.

“I never said that I'd be gentle,” you reply teasingly with a fondness that so easily comes through. (You think Diluc would disapprove of how trusting you seem to be, and how Amber would have a heart attack knowing how much you hang around Childe-- but neither of them are here with you, and you are not in Mondstadt.) You find yourself sweeping your fingers over his wounds more lightly, and if he notices that your hands are more gentle, only a momentary glance behind him is telling.

He hums. “Hm, I hope you don’t treat every patient you meet like this,” he says with a lilt of playfulness.

“Of course not.” The campfire flickers in the corner of your eyes, comfortably keeping you warm as you press your hand onto his shoulder to wrap it with gauze. “You’re a special case,” you remark dryly. “Aren’t you glad?”

“You really know how to make a guy feel warm inside,” Childe tells you, and you can hear rather than see the smile on his face.

For once, the two of you sit in silence. It’s a rare occasion, and you start to think that perhaps the two of you fill in the quiet with witty retorts in order to avoid the looming tension between the two of you. But with the soft flicker of fire and the gentle rise and fall of Childe’s shoulders with his breathing, you find yourself more comfortable in his presence than you’ve ever been.

You wish you could stay like this forever, and so you set out to make it so.

You tell him what you have wanted to be if you had not come to Teyvat and become an adventurer. You avoid the more personal feelings that come with it, the yearning to go back home, how lost you felt when you were alone, and tell him briefly about who you are beyond what he knows of you as Mondstadt’s Honorary Knight.

Childe listens to you without interruption, but you know his attention is on you from the way his shoulder shakes in laughter when you tell him about the antics your friends got into or the way he shifts when you talk about your dad.

“Do you miss your family?” He asks you suddenly when you take a brief pause to tie the tape around his shoulder.

“Yes,” you reply honestly. “I try not to, but I get homesick a lot.” You pause, your hand feeling the warmth that emanates from his skin. “You?" You try, "Do you get homesick?”

“If I give myself a moment to think about my family, I do,” he tells you, just as honestly. “I haven’t been back to Snezhnaya in, hm, quite some time, I think.”

You trace your finger along the middle of his back where a long, white gash of scar tissue lay, and Childe does not even flinch. “Do your family know you’re Fatui?” You ask quietly, and you see your hand leave his back when he leans forward, away from your touch, to pull his shirt over his head.

Before you can open your mouth to apologize, he glances back at you and gives you a smile that makes your heart clench. “Not the young ones.”

“Oh.”

Childe laughs, and you feel your face warm again at the lack of tact in your response. “I’m kind of a ‘bad guy,’ as you already know. I’d rather have my youngest sibling still think of the world of me for as long as I can, you know?” He slips his hands through his grey jacket, continuing almost superfluously, “Defend their childhood dreams and what not.”

Instead of a response, you hum, glancing down at the red scarf that still lay pooled on the grass. You reach out for it the same time he does, and you look up to see eyes dark and blue as the ocean deep.

“Do you think I should quit?” He asks you abruptly, or so it seems to you, as you tug the scarf instinctively. You look into his eyes, wondering why they reminded you of the abyss.

The campfire ambers flicker at the corner of your eyes.

You falter when you think you should have not; isn’t the answer clear to you? Haven’t you thought Childe was better off without the Fatui? But something about the way Childe told you about his family, about his given role as defender of childhood dreams makes you think that there is more than what he has shown you.

The fire seems unbearably hot now, but you think it might have something to do with the fact your body is close enough to Childe’s to feel how warm he is (and you wonder why you even took note of that).

“Does it really matter what I think?” You ask instead, lifting a hand to pinch at his cheek, feeling yourself smile when he lets you do it with only a tiny wince. “Whether you quit or not-- isn’t that up to whether you think what you’re doing is still worth it?” You let go of his cheek and scarf, grinning up at him as he rubs his cheek and stares at you thoughtfully.

“Ah, well…” Childe responds after a moment of silence where you could only hear the crackling of the wood. He pulls his scarf across his shoulder and smiles at you. “Who knows?”

You roll your eyes. “What do you mean ‘who knows’? Didn’t you ask me because you care about what I think of you?” You gasp dramatically. “Childe… am I… a special case?”

Much to your surprise, you watch as Childe’s expression morphs into something akin to embarrassment. “Ah, well, you know,” he stammers, “you’re certainly the only Honorary Knight that I know of.”

“If you really think I’m dumb enough to believe that--”

“I never said that!”

The two of you banter until the stars are high and the moon moves across the sky. You continue to share stories with him, eagerly stretching out the time where the two of you are not Fatui and Honorary Knight. Childe carefully listens to you, learning more of where you came from and the circumstances that brought you here. In return, he shares stories about his family, about his viewpoint on battles and of snow. (“You and your obsession with blood,” you retort, and he only laughs, inching closer, but never touching you, underneath the blanket you swept over the two of you for warmth when the fire dies out.)

If your relationship with him changes that night, you cannot tell. But sometimes you think his glances linger on you longer when the two of you pass by, and you wonder if he wants to share more campfire stories, knowing how much it brings you closer to each other-- no matter how much the two of you pretend that it isn’t the case.

#childe #tartaglia #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin childe #i kept editing it over n over so i shall now release it #i will write childe's pov next bc nothings better than mutual pining

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awake-dearheart · 3 years

Text

Oh, Death [Six]

Series Masterlist

Summary: Pain. Betrayal. Murder. A friendship blackened by jealousy and resentment. When someone is threatening the lives of all his friends, Steve Rogers has to decide what’s more important: saving someone from his past, or saving his entire future.

Word count: 2050

Warnings: Death, murder, major character death, guns, blood, fighting, needles, injections

A/N: I’m having too much fun with murder. That’s probably something I should talk to my therapist about. But the benefit is yours cuz here we go! This one isn’t beta’d so we die like men here. If you’d like to be added ot any of my open taglists, click here!

Wood splinters flew through the air as the door to Sam’s house burst open under Steve’s massive kick. Sam came racing into the living room in a panic, a gun in his hand.

“Jesus, Steve,” he sighed upon seeing his friend. “You know there’s a doorbell, right?” Steve didn’t answer, but rather stomped inside, knocking the gun from Sam’s grip and grabbing him by his shirt. In three long strides, he had Sam pinned to the wall, their noses mere inches from one another.

“Talk,” Steve snarled, anger burning in his eyes.

“What the hell is your problem, man?” Sam groaned. “What are you doing?” He struggled in Steve’s grip, trying and failing to peel the super soldier’s hands from him. Sam didn’t scare easily, but the fury he saw in the blue eyes before him sent a cold chill down his spine.

“Natasha is dead,” Steve answered. Sam’s movements stopped and his eyes went wide. For a second, Steve faltered. The look of shock on Sam’s face at the news seemed genuine, or at least he feigned it well enough to fool Steve. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe Sam really was on his side. No. He couldn’t be. If Steve was wrong about this, then that meant…

“Holy shit,” Sam mumbled. “Are you ok? Did you see what happened?”

“She was dead when I got there,” Steve said. “Someone shot her.”

“And I’m guessing based on your very understated entrance and the fact that you’re ruining my favorite shirt right now, you’re thinking I had something to do with it.” The glibness in Sam’s voice renewed Steve’s anger, and he slammed him against the wall once more.

“She was on the roof, Sam,” he hissed through gritted teeth. “On the tallest building in the area with a bullet through the top of her skull. You tell me what I should think, Falcon.” He emphasized the last word and watched the realization of what he knew pass over Sam’s features. The humor he had tried to use to calm Steve a moment ago was gone. It was his turn to be angry now. In one quick move, he broke his hands from under Steve’s and pushed hard against his chest, managing to catch him off guard. Steve released his shirt and stumbled back as Sam moved off the wall into the center of the room.

“Ok, now I can understand you being upset because of what just happened,” Sam began. “And we’re gonna talk later about the fact that you had me checked out, but what you’re not gonna do is kick down the door to my home and outright accuse me of murder. Especially when you don’t know shit about my life, or what I did in the army. Half of your god damn friends are superheroes. I’m not the only person you know that can fly, Steve.”

“But you’re the only one who knew where she'd be,” Steve retorted. “You were here when I took the call. You heard me plan to meet her on the roof.”

“Do I need to remind you that there is a psychotic assassin running around the city right now?” Sam reasoned. “You saw this dude with your own eyes after he shot Fury. Last time I checked I’ve got two very flesh and blood arms over here.”

“Then you’re working with him!” Steve bellowed, grasping at any thread he could think of. “You tipped him off!” He had to be right about this. The alternative would break him. This had to be the answer.

“Man, you really have lost it,” Sam scoffed. “You’ve been in my house, all alone with me all day. If I wanted you dead, trust me Steve, you’d be dead. I didn’t think that serum they gave you made you stupid, too.”

“You should be very careful what you say to me right now, Wilson,” Steve warned.

“And you should know that I’m not afraid to hit an old man, Rogers,” Sam shot back, taking a small step forward. Steve saw red. Before he could even think about it, he had punched Sam square in the jaw. Sam took the hit and stumbled a little, rubbing at his split lip and chuckling darkly. Steve didn’t have time to react before Sam returned his jab, nearly knocking Steve off his feet. When Sam’s fist connected and sent Steve staggering back, a file folder fell from inside his jacket and landed at Sam’s feet. He bent down to pick it up while Steve was still recovering.

“Give me the file, Sam,” Steve ordered, wiping blood from the corner of his mouth. Sam ignored it and opened the folder, reading through what he found inside. He read every single word he could. He flipped through pages and lifted the photos, finding everything that was in English and taking it in. When he was finished, he looked up at Steve in disbelief.

“This is the file Natasha was talking about,” Sam said quietly. When Steve remained silent, he continued. “So, let me get this straight. This metal-armed dick attacked Fury on the road, then again in your apartment. He shot Natasha a few years ago when she was protecting some scientist, then killed her tonight. He’s killed at least ten other people over the last half of a century, yet somehow, in spite of all of that, you got the idea in your star-spangled head that I’m the one to punch in the face?”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Steve replied flatly.

“I know this is very obviously the guy that’s been killing people,” Sam said. “I know you’re here yelling at me in the face of a literal mountain of evidence, but what I don’t know is why.”

“Because he’s my friend!” Steve blurted out. Whatever else Sam planned to say died at Steve’s words, and his mouth fell closed. The weight of what he had said pressed in on both of them, adding to the already heavy air of the room. After a few tense minutes, Sam softened and spoke.

“Steve, look,” he said, his voice gentle. “I want to help you. I do. But I can’t do that if I don’t have all the facts.” Steve looked up at the man across from him and sighed heavily. Sam had moved more while they fought, putting distance between the two of them. Regret filled Steve’s heart when he realized it. How could he think Sam had anything to do with this? Sam, a man who had dedicated his entire life to helping people in need. He wasn’t capable of something like this. He was as good a man as any, and somewhere deep inside, Steve had known that the whole time. He was just scared. Blaming Sam, a man who was still practically a stranger to him, was easier than facing the harsh reality of the situation. Steve sighed again and reached a hand out as he told the tale.

“That man,” he began, taking the folder from Sam. “The Winter Soldier or whatever they’re calling him. His name is James Barnes. He was my best friend growing up. I called him Bucky. He was one of the Howling Commandos that fought with me during the war. There was a mission...on a train. I was supposed to wait but I didn’t, and it went bad. Bucky died. Or at least, I thought he did. We all thought he did. He had been a POW for a little while before that and HYRDA experimented on him. Whatever they did must have helped him survive the fall. They found him in the mountains, and they took him back. They kept him, Sam. All this time they kept him and used him as their weapon. He was alive and I let them use him.”

“You didn’t know, Steve,” Sam affirmed. “You couldn’t have. Dude fell off a train in the mountains. Nobody should have survived that.”

“But he did,” Steve contended. “He’s alive.” Tears burned in his eyes as he said the words. Bucky was alive. And he was hunting down Steve’s friends one by one.

“Listen, I get it,” Sam said. “You woke up 70 years in the future to everyone you ever knew being gone. Now there’s this Bucky. He’s a link to your past and it makes sense to want that. But this guy? The one after you? This isn’t your war buddy anymore, Steve. This is a murderer that we need to stop.”

“I can save him,” Steve protested. “I know he’s still in there.”

“In there killing people,” Sam countered. “He killed Natasha. Maria. Fury. We have to end this.”

“I just need to talk to him,” Steve continued to ramble. “If I can get to him, I can make him listen. I can make him remember. I can bring him home, Sam.”

“Five minutes ago you were ready to kill me because you thought I was the one responsible for this,” Sam said, his voice rising once again. “This guy has an actual body count and now it’s all about rehabilitation?” Steve didn’t have an answer for that. He knew Sam was right, but he didn’t want to admit it. The Bucky he knew could never be capable of evil like this. Sure, he had killed people in the war. They both had. But off the field, Bucky was the most kindhearted man Steve had ever known. He was positive that if given the choice, Bucky would never willingly be a part of something like this. What had HYDRA done to him? How had they corrupted him so? A dark sense of knowing washed over Steve, bringing with it an eerie sense of calm. Sam was right. The Winter Soldier was dangerous. They needed to stop him.

“You’re right,” Steve conceded finally. “I don’t want to, but we have to finish this.”

“That’s the first smart thing you’ve said since you got back,” Sam said, finally relaxing his posture.

“But I want a chance with him first,” Steve pressed on. “I need to be sure before we do anything.”

“And I thought we had come so far,” Sam sighed, putting his hands on his hip and rolling his eyes.

“One minute, Sam,” Steve said. “That’s all I ask. One minute to see if there’s any part of him still in there. If I can reach him, we don’t do anything final until we absolutely have to.” He held his breath as he watched Sam consider his words and let it out when he nodded slowly.

“One minute is all I’m giving you,” Sam insisted. “And I’m setting a timer.”

“Deal,” Steve agreed. Sam leaned down to pick up his gun, tucking it into the waistband of his pants and looking over at Steve.

“So, what’s the-”

The rest of Sam’s words were cut off when a bullet shattered the living room window and ripped through the side of his head. He collapsed to the ground in an instant, his blood spraying across Steve’s face. Horror gripped Steve, squeezing his heart in his chest as he gaped down at Sam’s body, the bloodstain under him blooming like some grotesque flower.

“No...Sam,” Steve breathed in shock. He took a step forward to do something, he wasn’t even sure what, when a shadow suddenly appeared in the doorway. Steve tore his eyes from his friend’s mangled body and looked up to see the glinting of a metal arm in the light. Gritting his teeth in a rage he charged, determined to end this reign of terror once and for all. The Winter Soldier was ready for him. The two men traded blows, each of them seeming to predict the other’s moves in an instant. They were matched for speed and strength, but in strategy, the Soldier prevailed. He waited for his opening and when Steve slipped on a piece of the broken glass from the window, he made his move. Seizing Steve by the wrist he flipped him around, slamming his face into the wall and pinning his arm behind his back. Steve struggled but couldn’t move under the weight of the metal limb that was pressed into his spine. In an instant, he felt the sharp prick of a needle in his neck, and everything went dark.

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Oh, Death taglist (4/25): @that-one-gay-girl @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @solarapower @mercyy98

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sacklerscumrag · 4 years

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‘Tis The Damn Season

Request :)

hi my love! I’m taking you up on a request if that’s ok! I know you just wrote Clyde but I love when you write him so if you want to do something with either the “You have no idea how much I want you right now” prompt or “It’s cold, you should take my jacket” prompt that’d be wonderful! (It can be smutty too😉)

@adamdsolo

One of the most beautiful souls I know. This girl ya’ll. Every time I post she’s right there being so fucking amazing and I honestly don’t know if I would still be writing without her unending love and support :) I love you so so much Laur, you and your friendship mean the world to me. I hope you like this little story! <3

↓ ↓ ↓

Clyde Logan X Female Reader

Prompts: “You have no idea how much I want you right now” + “It’s cold, you should take my jacket”

Warnings: vaginal fingering, fluff, semi-public foreplay

Word Count: 934

AO3

Wintry trees decorated in twinkling lights and various clamorous carnival rides adorned the annual Christmas Boone County fair. Though the air bared only the coolness, you remained warm at Clyde's side. Gently nestled into the crook of his arm as he kept you close. It had been almost a year to the date since you met Clyde; having had your first date at this very fair, it seemed only fitting that you would return for your anniversary.

"Have I told ya how beautiful ya look tonight?"

"Only about a hundred time since we left the house."

"Well, then I'll say it again." He tightened his grip on your waist, making you giggle. "It's cold, ya should take my jacket." Clyde stopped and turned to face you.

"I'm fine, baby, I promise." You said. Giving him a reassuring smile and pulling him close to you once again, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders. Your whole body tingled at the feeling of his large frame pressed up against yours as he wrapped his arms around your waist and leaned into you. A wave of warmth washed over you once you felt the softness of his lips on yours.

Clyde interlocked his fingers with yours as you continued to make your way through the fair, occasionally taking a moment to bring the back of your hand to his lips, placing a gentle kiss here and there. He loved to watch the way your face lit up at every Christmas decoration you passed.

"What do ya wanna do first, darlin?" Clyde asked as he wrapped his arms around you from behind. "Anythin ya want." You took a moment to look around at the bustling crowd surrounding the rides and eagerly took his hand to drag him, knowing precisely what you wanted to do.

"Photobooth? Ya sure?" You made your way up to the photo booth behind all of the snack carts, away from the crowds.

"Oh, please, Clyde! We don't get enough pictures together. Plus, the lines are too long for the rides right now, so we have some time to kill." You gushed, holding his hand with both of yours, your entire hand wrapping around only three of his massive fingers. Clyde saw your pleading eyes looking up at him, making him weak at the knees. How was he ever supposed to say no to you? He finally nodded, opening up the small door to the booth for you to head inside.

Neither of you accounted for Clyde's large frame in the booth, so he made himself comfortable on the seat as you settled on his lap. His metal hand wrapped around your waist while his flesh one rested on your thigh.

It wasn't long before the pictures began; you and Clyde posed for each one. And just before the last photo was taken, you pulled Clyde in for a searing kiss, not pulling away even after the flash went off. You cupped the side of his face, parting your lips as the tender caress of his tongue made you sink deeper into the kiss.

"You have no idea how much I want you right now." Clyde's voice was low, filled with lust. Biting your lip, you looked down at him, a sparkle in your eyes at his seductive tone. "I have an idea." He hummed softly into your lips, tapping your leg so you could swing it over to straddle him. Once you settled back on his lap, for a second, your mouth brushed his, taking his lower lip into your mouth before releasing it with a pop. Your breath hitched when he began to kiss and nip at the overly delicate skin on your neck and shoulders, his hands already working on unbuttoning your jeans as he whispered to you. "Let me take care of you, darlin." The warmth of his breath on your cool skin, sending a shiver through your body.

Your hands tangled in his dark locks when his hands slid into your jeans, past your lace panties, and skimmed over your folds, gathering up the slick. Slowly, he slipped two thick fingers into your cunt, making you groan at the stretch as his thumb rubbed lazy circles around your clit.

You cried out when you felt him plunge a third finger into you without warning. Clyde began to pump his fingers at a faster pace, feeling your cunt pulsate around him, fluttering as he curled his fingers towards that tender spot inside of you. Your clit throbbed, aching for attention as you began to gyrate your hips on him, desperate to feel more.

"Fuck baby, ya look so fucking good fuckin yerself on ma fingers. God, I wanna feel ya cum all over em." Clyde moaned along with you, spurring you on to your own release. His thumb worked your clit as the knot in your core felt like it was going to burst.

"Clyde, I'm going to-I'm about to-" Throwing your head back and arching your back, you sobbed as your vision went dark, your cunt clenching around his fingers, soaking his hand in your release. Clyde wrapped his mechanical arm around you, holding you in place while soothing you, whispering soft praises as your body went limp from the intensity of your orgasm. You lifted your head to lay on his shoulder, still trying to catch your breath as he ran his hand up and down your back.

"We gotta come to this photobooth more often." Clyde hummed softly, making you both chuckle. "Now, let's get ya home. Gotta have ya makin those pretty sounds fer me all night."

#clyde logan #clyde logan x reader #cw: semi-public sex #Clyde Logan smut #Clyde Logan fanfiction

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jaskiersvalley · 4 years

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Immortals

A @sugar-and-spice-witcher-bingo fill. Special shout out to @chubbykatsudon for bouncing ideas around.

Prompt: Meet Ugly Title (optional): Immortals Relationships (romantic/platonic/etc): Geralt/Jaskier Rating: M (for (not permanent) murder) Content Warnings: Murder attempts of immortal friends for the sake of entertainment. Summary: Sometimes living forever is just boring. There’s nothing to do except literally kill time.

Being an immortal was boring. The middle ages had been especially dull and Vesemir had encouraged them to play knights in shining armour. It had been fun at the time but, on reflection, it was probably just Vesemir trying to get his idiots out of his hair for a bit. Then humanity seemed to decide it had had enough of stagnating and began to invent things. Fun things. Like the toaster. Lambert picked up on of the first models and took it home with glee, presenting it to Eskel.

“New bath water heater,” he said.

All too trusting and happy, Eskel took it, deciding that taking a bath was exactly what he needed to do to relax. From the armchair Vesemir watched him go with a soft sigh and turned back to his knitting. Not half an hour later the lights in the house started flickering and there was a noise from the bathroom while Lambert cackled. As the fuses blew in the house, Vesemir gave Lambert a flat, unamused stare and continued to knit in the dark. Thankfully, Geralt was as dutiful as ever and turned the lights back on while Eskel emerged from the bathroom looking a little frazzled.

“Spicy water,” he announced and shook his head, spraying water from his hair in all directions. While Lambert cackled, Vesemir tutted.

It went on like that, new inventions and new ways to kill each other. Or rather, not kill each other because they just never died. Not even a stilling of the heart and no breathing, only to dramatically come back to life. That would have been fun at least. Alas, they just endured whatever time threw at them with as much or as little grace as they had.

It was rare to find someone like them but rumour had it that there was another. And he was having a grand old time with the modern phenomenon of global fame. Jaskier was irritating(ly pretty) if anyone asked Geralt. But nobody really wanted or needed his opinion so he stayed quiet. Another immortal friend was always a nice idea so they went to his concerts, listened to his music and reached out to get to know him. Their first meeting was looming, they’d been exchanging messages, chatting but not actually met in the flesh. Still, they all wanted to make a good impression so there was a lot of preparation going on to look their best.

“What’s that?” Geralt asked as Lambert and Eskel were leaning over a new contraption.

“It’s a new tanning device,” Eskel declared, pushing the microwave towards him. “You’re so pale, we figured you’d want to look a little more healthy when meeting Jaskier.”

Lambert’s smile held nothing but cheerful malice. “I accidentally broke it a bit. What you have to do is plug it in, put your head in the machine and push with a fork on the latch. Set the timer to how long you want to be in there toasting for.”

Suspicious but not knowing any better, Geralt did as told. Behind him the other two were snickering, probably because it was such a stupid machine. All it did was hum and whirr noisily while forcing Geralt into a strange position, bent over the kitchen counter with his head in the opening. Once the machine dinged, he pulled out and looked at the other two.

“Well?” There was no change and Geralt grumbled. “Useless machine. At least it hums more in tune that Jaskier.”

With that, he wandered off, feeling quite warm but otherwise no different to usual.

“At least he looked like an idiot,” Eskel sighed. “That will have to be consolation enough.”

For a first meeting, they had grand plans. It had been a while since they pranked Vesemir so the idea was slowly blossoming. To make sure Jaskier was the kind of person they’d want to maintain a friendship with (no matter how pretty he was), they decided to rope him into it too. It was a very simple plan involving some nuts, a revolving door and an umbrella. As long as Jaskier brought the umbrella and played along, they were going to be golden.

The big meeting was approaching. Vesemir had asked his idiots to be on best behaviour and extracted false promises from them. They were to meet in a bar with private booths, able to get to know each other in a neutral but not public setting. After all, wherever Jaskier went, he got mobbed by fans.

As they walked into the booth, Lambert grinned at the sight of the umbrella. This was going to be perfect. Filing in, they sat on the semi-circle of the bench. Geralt got ushered in next to Jaskier followed quickly by Lambert and Eskel. It left Vesemir on Jaskier’s other side which was just fine. Perfect even for the greatest prank. There was a bowl of peanuts on the table and, as introductions were being made (with Geralt being impressively lacking on the verboseness, too struck down by how much better Jaskier looked in real life), Vesemir munched away on a couple.

All chatter came to a sudden stop and Eskel swung his legs off Lambert’s lap when Vesemir choked on a peanut. That wasn’t part of the plan. The coughing wouldn’t stop and then the hand waving started so Jaskier thumped him on the back to no avail. Rather dramatically, Vesemir tried to get up and collapsed.

Lambert brayed with laughter. “How fucking undignified.”

They waited for Vesemir to pick himself up. Or even move. The longer he was on the floor unmoving, the more awkward the silence got.

“Get up old man,” Lambert huffed.

Eskel tried to be a bit more gentle. “Vesemir?”

There was no response. Eskel made a move to get up but Jaskier beat him to it, crouching by Vesemir. A hand on his pulse then a listen to his chest. Slowly, Jaskier looked up at the three.

“He’s dead.”

“He can’t be,” Geralt replied hoarsely. “We don’t die.”

“No pulse. No breathing. No response.” Jaskier gave Vesemir an experimental poke in the cheek. “Seems pretty dead to me.”

Eskel’s quiet “oh shit” was the start of the panicked rushing to Vesemir’s side and trying to rouse him. There were three very panicked adopted sons around him while Jaskier took a step back and watched.

“This can’t be!” Lambert’s protests were weak. “He can’t be dead.”

His eyes were tearing up a little as Eskel pulled Vesemir up and cradled the limp body against his chest. “Please wake up?”

Jaskier couldn’t help but think they were like children. However, Geralt sat back and he peered at Vesemir’s face.

“Um. Do the dead smile?”

That was all it took and Vesemir burst out into a roaring laugh doubled over. Each time he looked up, he started laughing again and Jaskier snickered along too.

“What?” Geralt looked dumbfounded.

It was Eskel who pursed his lips and looked between Jaskier and Vesemir. “I think we’ve been had. And we have a traitor in our midst.”

In two short steps Geralt had Jaskier pinned against the wall. “You two faced scoundrel. I bite my thumb at you!”

Delighted, Jaskier just grinned as Geralt carried on. “Damn you. Go out with me.”

Lambert wolf-whistled as Jaskier leaned in to kiss Geralt into silence.

“Welcome to the family.”

#geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #lambert #eskel #vesemir #immortals au #sugar and spice bingo #tldr: being an immortal is boring

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life-rewritten · 4 years

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GIANTS OF BL 2021 AKA SHOWS LINED UP FOR GMMTV THAT WE WON’T STOP SCREAMING ABOUT!

Is there a way I can get over the addiction of BLS? Apparently not because GMMTV came and slapped me across the face for ever thinking I could. Like what even was that conference? I came in like yeah I've heard the rumours. 6 BLs! LOL, you're kidding, like nothing I'd want would even happen. But I still made a list of everything I wanted from them and held that checklist in my mind and boy was I shocked! I ended up just on the floor, brain exploded, mind shut down and can you believe I was crying? Like why on earth was I crying for GMMTV BLs? Crazy right? I am absolutely left floored, I'm going to be crying as I write this by the way just so you know, I've got my heart full ready to burst, talking about the change we've seen in BLs this year, the journey, the growth; there's still some work to do, but GMMTV said they were also part of that, they were going to change and make us stay, wanting more. They did that in a 3-hour conference. My brain is ready, my mind is prepared, my heart is available for all these shows, and I can't wait to see what 2021 unfolds. Let's begin screaming:

Ratings: From 1 to 5 (1 being least excited to watch, 5 being most,) how excited am I to delve into these shows?

THE NICE SURPRISES

BAKERY BOYS

Genre/Themes: Thriller, Bromance, Mystery, Psychological, Drama, Friendship, BL? (The manga is), Baking

Verdict: You know I love Antique when immediately I see that Foie's hands shaking as he has to be one of the waiters in the cafe, reminds me back to another favourite bodyguard of mine doing so. I was in shock; One because Antique was one of my first Korean 'BL' movies I saw, with all my favourite actors, an unusual and intriguing plotline and I ate it up; all of it. I didn't like how censored it was and the weird open ending for the relationship in the show. But I couldn't care less, something about it made me happy. I just loved the characters I think, and I enjoyed seeing our 4 bakers become friends and find a weird found family with each other. Add in a mystery to why Joon’s character wanted to kill himself and hated cakes? And I was sold. Now GMMTV is making a remake for it, and SINGTO is playing my favourite gay baker. Like I am so happy with this. Do I expect this to blow my mind? No. Do I expect more BL? A little? I'm not sure like GMMTV could make Antique a BL if they want to, Korea hinted to it, Japan ignored it in anime and others, but Thailand could change that. I'm not holding hopes for it, but I love this cast just as much as I love the Korean Cast like Lee Thanawat is perfect for this role, Singto is greater (I just love him so much) and we even have Pleum and Foei?? Are you kidding me? Greatness. It's going to be fun to see what they do with the mystery—something I greatly liked in the movie. Let's hope it's more fleshed out in the tv show. So excited!

Ratings: 3.5/5 I mean it's not really a BL so it'll feel queer baity for me and I may end up being annoyed it, but I really do have fond memories of the Korean movie, so I want to be excited, and the cast is everything so we'll see.

FISH UPON THE SKY

Genre: Unrequited Love, Comedy, Romance, Rivalry, Haters to Lovers,

Verdict:

DID SOMEONE SAY JITTIRAIN: THEORY OF LOVE? 2GETHER??? Sorry for screaming but like what else am I meant to do. Theory of love is my ultimate BL show, one of it anyway, one of the reasons will be discussed even more later with another show, but this is not about them. Also, 2gether is like one of the biggest BLs ever right now. Jittirain is genius, she has this ability to make you feel for her characters, root for their love stories whilst throwing plot twists everywhere. I also like that she always has a focus; theory of love, we had film theory, 2gether we had music, and now we have Fish Upon the Sky, and we have?

Medicine? Love rivalry? Honestly, I don't know, the title even makes me feel even weird; what the hell does Fish upon a sky mean? But who cares it's a Jittirain classic, comedy, pain, longiiiing, and unrequited love, and scheming to get unrequited loves requited, more side couples and secretive characters. This time we have PHUWIN (had to emphasise that because he's impressive people stop sleeping on him!), one of my favourite youngins, showing up and becoming our main Pi and we have Pond a newbie, who has charisma for days, and he plays Mork, and they are love rivals. Wait what? A love story between two people who fall for each other after chasing after one guy? I'm ready for this, the haters to lovers, the pain of unrequited longing, but hold on it seems like a plot twist! Seems like we have another oblivious protagonist on our hand aside from Tine in 2gether, Pi can't even see that Mork isn't chasing after the same person as him, but for he's chasing after him! Sarawat scheming activated! I'm expecting giggles, chemistry and a great story. And it's going to be great because it's Jittirain.

Ratings: 4.5/5 It's not anything new but do I need to repeat my self? Theory of love pining and longing and emotions mixed with 2gether's secrecy, scheming and obliviousness? It's going to be great. The cast is also excellent, I have total faith in this show, better be a good director though (oh no nightmares from the last half of 2gether has returned).

FINDING ENCHANTE

Genre: Romance, Comedy, Angst, Drama, Friends to Lovers, Haters to Lovers, Harem, Mystery,

Verdicts:

Enchante that means nice to meet you aww. Wow, now I know French. Yay now where do I sign up to be like Theo and have 5 men chasing after me? Actually, that sounds like a nightmare, and I don't have time for that. He does apparently. Guess what guys! I knew I had a feeling in my gut when I watched this drama, I felt the memories, the intuition, the clues, hitting my brain, and I realised why. This show is also written by My gear and your gown's writer. YES! You mean more mystery and subtext filled storytelling, a show where I can analyse the character dynamics, and find clues to piecing the story together??? Perfection. As much as My gear and your gown wasn't everything to me, it was everything to me when I analysed it, I have fun with this writer's works when directed properly her works have great potential to be one of the best. I love GMMTV giving new actors the time to shine, and choosing stories that make my mind start working again. Thank you.

With this show we're having a love Simon flashbacks with our Simon being sent secret messages through a book by Enchante, he's sweet, caring and totally all about making our lead comfortable. Who could he be?

The best friend who's totally pining from afar and playing off his feelings like its nothing? My gut is already saying that Tine definitely wants it to be him (so again requited but they don't know trope? you've got me!)

Is it the playboy guitar extraordinaire played by GAWIN you heard me right GAWIN my Mork in Dark Blue Kiss!! Like what? Where've you been boy? He looks so great in this, by the way, he's a tease, likes to play our lead's feelings, and has chemistry because they're haters to lovers.

Or is it FLUKE PUSIT?? What even is this cast how is it both my favourite actors are here? Anyways Fluke is an artist, he wants our lead to let him in so he can draw him, our lead is his muse apparently, and again chemistry that makes your head hurt because like who is this damn Enchante?? Who will Theo choose?

Anyways we then have two people who I don't know that well sorry, Boom is the football captain that likes our lead and is always protecting him, and the other is a genius/nerd? Who helps Theo with his studies? Like wow, it must be great to be Theo, guys from different lifestyles and aesthetics have found him, they want him, they need him and one of them he wants and needs. I wonder who it is.

Ps people already thinking it's the best friend, not me, I think bestie is obviously endgame Tine is definitely also secretly wanting him to be with that pining and longing (I'm sure it's why he wants to find enchante desperately). I can't wait to see why these two refuse to let each other know how it feels. All I beg for is, please don't let New direct this. Guess what it's produced by X (Theory of Love! Hold on while I cry again) and Film! (Also theory of love!) Oh, this is going to be brilliant!

Ratings: 4.5/5 This drama is probably going to be the most underrated because people have other things to care about I don't blame you, but I think for me, this would be a same favourite way I loved MGYG and I'm ready for new faces, Gawin and Fluke and a requited but they don't know it angsty love story plus I know the directing is going to be amazing!. Ps, I actually hate harems, but the excitement is in figuring out who on earth is Enchante and why this is happening!

THE BIG BOYS

GMMTV decided to not let me rest next year. How is it that I already felt happy by seeing Phuwin, Gawin, Fluke etc... I was content you know, I was like great we have a great line up I'm excited now I don't think there's anything else I secretly want that will happen. I'm being a clown, BUT NO. EVERYTHING I ASKED FOR: EVERYONE I WANTED TO SEE, EVERY TROPE I WANTED, THE DIRECTOR, THE PLOTS, EVERYTHING WAS MANIFESTED BY THESE THREE TRAILERS. That's why I ended up crying. Because even till this day I can't believe this is real. I don't know when I'll finally think they will be real in 2021. Crying again!

NOT ME

Genre: Gang, Mafia, Crime, Romance, Drama, Stolen Identity, Twins, Angst

Not me? Not you? Not us? See how my mind scrambles when it comes to this show. Because I was determined to not be a clown and believe in this even when I saw OFF GUN hold onto each other on the motorbike I was like HA, nope they're just guest stars, when I saw them as gang members I was like HA; interesting probably not BL. When I saw two Guns, I was like HA, nice Gifted character flashback but still not BL. I won't fall for it, this is a BAIT! You get me? BAIT!! Don't fall for it and then GMMTV was like shut up here's a kiss. And then I broke down and cried. Because it was a journey.

Remember when I said Theory of Love was my favourite? It's because of these two; OffGun is everything, my favourite BL couple on screen, my favourite fanservice couple, everything. I thought that the end of theory of love meant I won't be seeing them for a while, they'd be in other series separate, they'd not want to be typecasted. Gun would go for serious roles, Off will choose more het romantic comedies, don't blame them. Still, I didn't think I'd see them again, and I wasn't sure I wanted to see them in another university setting. I set my mind on only seeing them in fan meetings and side projects, I'd made up my mind to miss them. And then NOT ME happened, and now I'm crying just at the thought;

This isn't a cringy, comedic, cheesy BL.

This isn't set in University.

This isn't' unrequited pining from Gun to Off.

Gun is Dark! I repeat Gun went Dark he became a gang leader determined to break the law, called Black and Off; OFF went serious and he's Gun's right-hand man called Sean, and I'm just like wait is this real?? We're getting dark, gritty OFF GUN??? Are you serious?? See?? still can't believe it, and it's BL??? What is this? Christmas?? Like how did we get this, who came up with this idea THANK YOU SO MUCH.

I thought nothing could beat theory of love for me and now OffGun came back and said HA you thought. I have a lot of feels about this, I will never stop screaming, I've rewatched that youtube trailer now for about more than 20 times, I'm not even kidding you, every day it's on repeat, I'm just ready, ready to write, to scream, to talk about this in so much detail. Let's get a plot that's deep, thrilling and mysterious, let's get a romance that is interesting, angsty but also sweet, let's get acting that is full of range, that will break my heart but fix it together again, let's get chemistry that would make me forget everything else. I'm ready for this. I've never been more ready!

Ratings: 5/5 What were you expecting? I can't even rate this anything else, nothing about this is worrying; even the director I trust she's also worked with Gun before in another movie of his, she respects LGBTQ, and she wants to make a great BL. I just can't believe this is real. 2021 come faster, I beg you.

BAD BUDDY

Genre: Forbidden romance, Haters to Lovers, Romance, Comedy, Opposites attract, Angst, Friends to Lovers,

Verdict:

You thought my screaming would be over. But no. GMMTV wasn't done with me yet. It's like it knew I was mourning from my lack of Ohm Pawat after rewatching He's coming to me (review here) and it knew I had just finished watching Gifted Graduation and felt slighted to see my opportunity at seeing Nanon as a BL character being taken from me with that finale. GMMTV knew I was empty without them and decided to mock me, and put me back together by making OHM NANON in a series together,.

Again the same process as Not me; I started laughing when I saw the trailer like a mad person. I was like this is clearly a queer bait bromance, HA, not falling for it GMMTV almost got me this time, but then there were the stares, the Romeo and Juliet energy, the sneaking into each other's rooms, the becoming secret friends despite being haters to lovers, the skinship, the intimacy, and then the jealousy, the pining, the longing, the are we just friends scene??? WAIT, WHAT IS THIS?? Why is AOF directing this (same director of ALL my favourite BLS), what is this GMMTV?

Nanon wouldn't be in a BL we know this, we've been clowns, but we accepted this with defeat, why is he now saying he's doing one because of the cast? THIS IS A BL? NOT BAIT? NOT A TRICK? BY AOF? WHATTTTTTT???? see my mind exploded.

Since then it hasn't still comprehended this. This is insane, do you know how good, how genius, how amazing Nanon and Ohm Pawat is?? Do you see the power this holds? The fact it's directed by Aof who's like one of the best directors ever in GMMTV??? Do you even know what this means? For this GENRE??? Sorry, I have to scream. I still can't believe this! This is something someone would say, and we'd laugh it of as a joke like yeah right, in your dreams, but it's real, and it looks absolutely amazing, is it a university setting YES, so what? This is everything, with haters to lovers but not really, to Romeo and Juliet pining and longing, to the chemistry that takes your breath away. To just Ohm and Nanon in a screen together being in love. Yep, you guessed it my mind is never goanna be whole again after this breakdown. Guess what I'm okay with it.

Ratings: 5/5 OhmNanon, Aof that's it. That's the post.

A TALE OF A THOUSAND STARS

Genre/Themes: Military, Romance, Comedy, Drama, Heart Transplant, Unrequited Love, Fish out of water,

Verdict:

And we come to this big one here. You see it? It screams 2021 show of the year to me, it screams incredible plot and romance to me, it screams unique and exciting BL to me. Guess what? It's also by Aof. Ha. It took me a year to accept this is happening because when the trailer came out, I knew that with this cursed genre that this was too good that there'd probably be some kind of issue with it. But did it matter? No! Because this was real. Earth and Mix were in a BL together, and it looks so amazing, so great, and it's coming in less than 3 months. I'm going to cry. And it means everything; because there's a hint of character dynamics, angst and also haters to lovers. I see the chemistry, the production, the plot, the actors, and I just feel so ready for this show that I have no other words to say except I love it, I love it, I love it!.

Ratings: 5/5 It's taken years, but I'm ready for this, I just want the trailer now, I want the show now, I want 2021 to start now. This is definitely a giant for sure, it's everything, and I can't wait for it.

After screaming at everything; 2021 starting with ATOTS is already a sign, we're in for a great year with so many incredible changes in this genre. GMMTV isn't messing around, with subs in their event to show international fans are no longer forgotten and are heard and respected, with actors that have made their way into my heart and refuse to leave, and I'm just so happy. It may seem so extreme to be this excited for a BL series to be good, but I love this genre, I love seeing what it represents to so many people, I love the interesting storylines, the discussions you can have for days because of it, the tears, angst, and happiness you feel. But most of all I love how BL has brought out writing from me, I'm happy when I analyse this genre, I'm delighted discussing real-life links and conversations derived from it, I'm so glad learning and humbling my self and opening my mind to new things. BL has been a source of excitement, shock and happiness this year. I can't for next year to be even more splendid, and with this line-up, it's going to be even more than that. It's going to break the world. Can't wait.

#thai bl #gmmtv 2021 #gmmtv #bl series #bl drama #antique bakery #baker boys #singto prachaya #fish upon the sky #phuwin tangsakyuen #enchante #not me #off gun #offgun #bad buddy #ohmnanon #ohmnon #fvete #2021

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