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banqdanfnfic · 3 years

Text

which, as they kiss, consume | jjk

you just wanted to get a tattoo from your boyfriend

pairing: tattoo artist!jk x reader

genre: established relationships au, tattoo artist au, smut

word count: 4k

warnings: unprotected sex, biting, making out, grinding, licking, nipple play, jk has a lip ring, oral (f receiving), fingering, shy jk and oc, sexual tension, slight choking, slight aftercare

♫ : Streets by Doja Cat, Candy by Doja Cat

♡ Aesthetics: Playlist | Moodboard

He visibly chokes on his glass of beer as he almost snaps his neck to meet your gaze. He could say that you were awfully drunk and hence the sudden confession out of the blue, but behind your heavy lidded eyes, Jungkook could sense that you were serious.

“You what?”, he gulps abruptly, moving closer to your face, doe eyes pleading to repeat yourself.

“Yes Kook. I want that tattoo on my breasts. I’ve decided”.

It’s not that Jungkook didn’t have experience in his career with inking on different parts of a human body. He just had never given a tattoo to someone who is romantically associated with him and the thought of seeing you half naked made him chuck down the rest of his drink in one go.

The most physical he had ever gotten with you was a kiss shared occasionally since it’s only been over two weeks you had started dating. Okay maybe you made out once in his car but that’s it. It never got to the point of shedding clothes or anything intense.

“Are you sure?”

You giggle at the sudden hoarseness in his voice and nod positive. Ironic how his aura never matched his personality. His inked skin, athletic body proportions covered in black monochrome bad boy outfits gave out default energy that he is a local heartthrob with multiple chicks wrapped around his finger each night and a heavy demeanor to carry in his smirk.

You were one of those believers until Jungkook asked you out in the most hopeless romantic way possible after constantly visiting the café you work in, a few shops besides his parlor. He was a gentleman with respectful boundaries, warm hands to hold yours and sweet sensual kisses though you are pretty sure he probably has a good game.

For any outsider it looked like those cliché bad boy and shy girl love stories, but for real both of you were a good percentage of introverts.

Jungkook runs his tongue around his lip ring while he is stressfully ruffling his dark locks into a mess. He is trying to explain his reasons to postpone your decision considering how shy he got at this point. But then that’s exactly why you were requesting him with soft eyes, it would be so uncomfortable to be shirtless in front of anybody else. Or maybe it’s your way of saying the relationship is open for higher levels of physical affection.

After debating around in vain, he finally hums and clears one of his slots for his beloved client.

Friday approaches way quicker than you assumed and now your heart is beating in your throat. Right after you are done cleaning the tables, you have to make it to Jungkook’s parlor for your appointment.

Running on three hours of sleep, black under eyes even after a decent amount of makeup, you groan as you check yourself out in the mirror. You opted for a simple shirt and skirt (also known as the outfit you bought for occasions with Jungkook), light beach waves resting on your shoulders. Hoping that a few cups of coffee will save you, you stride across the street to stop before the infamous parlor he worked in. Hopefully the full body shave and chocolate body butter has kept its excellence on your skin below the clothing.

The door chimes as it opens with a dragged creak on the musky wooden flooring. It felt like an otherworld where air smelled like men’s perfume and faint tint of cigarettes. In other words, intoxicating.

You ask the first person you meet at the reception, one of Jungkook’s companions at the shop and he assists you to his cabin located at a comfortably remote location.

His space is hidden with a simple black curtain. You are met with Jungkook’s back facing you, working determinately on a client’s arm and cares to spare a glance only when the guy with you is informing him about your presence.

“This will be over in a few”, he grins to your face and goes back to focusing his coil on the skin of a woman in her late twenties laying down his chair. The vibration from his inking machine fills in the silence and you excuse yourself to sit on a small black couch beside them.

This was the first time watching him at work and now you can understand why people rumored so much about his attitude because damn it is intimidating.

Brows knit together and inked muscles flex as he drags the needles around for finishing touches. Meanwhile you can pretty much smell the drool from the woman who is shamelessly checking out your boyfriend. Though you are pretty sure Jungkook gets such glances more than he can count every day, you can’t help but feel jealous. Partly because of the childish possessiveness and partly because you want to be the reason behind his dark eyes and intricate concentration, in profession or not.

To stop from mentally throwing daggers on the client’s way, you grab a random fashion magazine from the side table and flip through pages, though other four senses are inclined on your man. With a close attention to his low sigh you conclude that he is done.

The customer with now a fresh tattoo on her arm is discussing random useless topics to get him to talk, a very vain job realizing how Jungkook doesn’t bat a friendly lash at anybody, especially to those who hit on him. To be honest a large part of the ink business was linked with the obsession to attractive people who worked here, even if it meant trading an area of your skin. You grip the edges of the magazine a bit hard, not able to contain the sanity particularly at the high pitch voice she mumbles in before finally leaving his cabin.

A little excited and a lot nervous, you stand up as Jungkook bids goodbye to the third person.

He is quick to notice your discomfort, though not sure if it was the woman or the thought of finally getting the tattoo, he knew you were nervous and surviving in several cups of espresso by the dark circles slowly showing through the faded layers of your concealer. But nothing pulls down the opinion he has about you, beautiful and simple, no dramatics attached.

“Hey are you okay?”

You nod as soon as you sit down on the black tattoo chair, shifting a little to find a comfortable position. He is taking out a box full of equipment and fine needles, already making you break a sweat at the side of your forehead.

But more than that, it’s the way he is sharp and professional that catches your attention more.

You have never seen Jungkook this serious before. The choice of his vetiver perfume digging through your nostrils was driving you insane. If he doesn’t smile soon, you are going to melt into a puddle at his gaze.

“Are you nervous?”, he smirks this time, a newfound reason for your worsening gut health.

It’s mostly going in cycles at this point. Every bit of his skilled motion causes a vigorous hormonal reaction which initiates his next set of effortless teasing.

“I’m a little nervous”, you say, fiddling with your freshly painted nude nails.

“Me too”

It’s something you least expect to come out of his mouth observing how confident he looks right now. He basically has you cornered with his gaze. But whenever he had been truthful about his emotions it felt like a hug.

“I can take off my shirt too, so that we are even. Is that okay?”

He said it so softly like he is handling a child and the duality of the situation had your mind fogged and limbs frozen for a few minutes.

“Yeah it’s okay” It’s far beyond than okay. It’s great actually.

Jeon Jungkook is ripped, a Greek God sculptured masterpiece covered in self designed artwork you are more than happy to wake up to every morning. He hears you gulp at the feast before your eyes while he discards his black t-shirt to a nearby chair.

Now you don’t know if this whole thing is supposed to warm your heart or make you play several erotic fantasies like a movie before your eyes.

Both of you share a small smile while his long fingers are tugging at the hem of your shirt and pulling it up over your head.

He almost wishes you don’t opt to wear a bra but he is met with lacy black, a-bit-over your-usual-budget fabric hugging the roundness of your breasts.

It seemed like you were way too competitive about today. Anything less than complete awe from Jungkook for you was straight disappointment, you don't want anything less.

Well it seems like it did from how blown his pupils were at this point. He peels his gaze off your chest with a sharp gulp to look at your eyes suddenly devoid of any fear and staring back at him with all ease. He is filled with an exapnse of warmth and he isn't sure why does spending just a little amount of time with you had such a grip on him. He can’t wait to propose the idea of getting a couple tattoo together soon and as far as you know how Jungkook is, he is very serious with his body art so apparently he does trust you a lot already.

“Where exactly are you trying to get it?”, his voice is a lot deeper suddenly as he waits for your fingers to guide to his canvas.

You softly trace the spot at the upper circumference of your right boob, “Here”.

You suck a breath through your nose as his own fingers are mimicking your gesture, lightly pulling down the lace to inspect the fitting of the design at hand.

These violent delights have violent ends

And in their triumph die, like fire and powder

Jungkook traces each word on your burning skin, now leaning dangerously close which was questioning your control to put your palms flat on his pecs. He doesn’t notice that though, his mind is busy creating his own fantasies about the women under him.

After two minutes and twenty four second long of inspection and mutual thirst, Jungkook is selecting a bunch of needles to set into the rotary machine. Five fine sharp like a painter's brush moves in and out at a set regularity as Jungkook tests it out.

The next of his actions had you flushed into a pool of crimson. He gently lifts up your resting torso with one hand while the other is unclasping the hook of your bra, making you half naked for the sake of the tattoo.

"I'm going to start", he says shyly.

You still have time to save yourself from the growing phobia for the object, but another unlogical part of your brain says it's a piece of cake considering you have a whole distracting full course meal in front of you.

It stings at first. Well, okay it hurts like hell but your face is devoid of any indication, except your right hand is gripping on the rim of the chair for dear life.

Jungkook on the other hand had never felt this much diversion of mind during his work. He knows that you are probably hurting very badly, especially for a first timer. He is biting into his lip ring, trying to get this over with for the well-being of your pain and his hormones.

After he had scribed one word into your dermis, you are no longer able to contain the ache so you give out a small squeak out of your glossed lips and the vibration of the machine at his hands stops as he looks at you.

"You want me to stop? ", he is relaxing his face as he cups yours with one hand. You don't want to answer that question, but the drumroll of the current situation is making your heart flutter and everything about the little burn on your chest is forgotten.

"No. It does hurt but I'll be fine I guess", you whisper. His breath is mixing with yours slowly as he is leaning more towards your face. If it isn't for a kiss then you are likely to be disappointed.

"It'll be over before you know it. I'll make it quick", and then he kisses you, a small act to get off the pressure of sexual tension between your bare upper bodies.

Before you think of any tongue in the act, he is breaking off the contact and returns to his position on your chest. He misses the pout that forms on your mouth but right now both of your heads are in cloud nine.

The pain starts again, only this time you are busy reliving how his lips felt in yours; soft, firm and controlled.

You gasp when you feel one of his hands cupping your right breast to further his design but it's lowkey an act empowered by lust which is straining behind the so called professional eyes.

You just sit there flustered out of your mind and then Jungkook is suddenly squeezing, full palm hiding your breasts like it's a protected treasure, but he isn't showing the slightest facial expression other than determined eyes and his lower lip caught between his teeth.

Fuck you can't take it anymore. Jungkook can feel your nipples harden against his hand and his brain isn't helping much to concentrate on the design. But by the grace of some positive karma left on his side, he makes it through the long text and when he is letting go of your chest and standing tall, your skin is popping out with redness on the places the text lays embedded.

He fishes out a mirror for you to look.

"It looks beautiful thank you Jungkook", you smile.

"Can I give you one more tattoo on your left one?", he asks while you are contemplating whether going through the pain is worth it, not to mention you really want to get back at a private space with Jungkook as soon as possible.

"It won't hurt I promise", and then he is kissing you a lot filthier than before; all tongue and teeth, while his hands are grazing on the skin of your waist, pressing a little firmer than before.

The coldness of his lip ring rivaled around your mouth, and you try sucking on it to which Jungkook responds with a growl and pushes his body adamantly against yours.

Skin to skin, you are lost in euphoria of everything happening and finally, you roam your eager hands around his body, to his pecs and the definition of abs.

As your fingers scraped against his scalp, Jungkook is biting eagerly down your jawline to your collarbone and continues his ministrations at a particular spot which is bringing out melodic moan variation from you.

He is going down your skin, licking on your left boob before he starts planting violet tattoos as he had promised. As if it couldn't get better, he is massaging the right breast, in a way to soothe pain.

He loses it when you stutter his name, but he is just a fucking tease when it comes to making love and doing anything in a public space is the last thing he wants to do. There isn't much room for all that he wants right now.

"Why did you choose this particular tattoo Y/n?", he rasps while he is planting small pecks on his artwork, and you reply when he is finally eye level with you

"I just felt like it's a good one", your breaths are uneven and mostly caught in your neck. He pecks your lips before speaking, "Those are lines from Romeo and Juliet".

He takes your hands to trace over a line of text among the many designs on his chest.

which, as they kiss, consume

"We pretty much have a couple tattoo now Y/n", his breath is matched with your pace and you are not very sure how to respond to this new knowledge.

"That's… hot"

You break into giggles along with him, he just can't stop dragging his lips around your skin, but he isn't able to word his feelings right now either.

"I have some aftercare healing ointment for the tattoo at my place, wanna come over?" Now that may be a little lame of an excuse to get his little friend out of his pants but you are too unfazed to analyse any of that.

His hands find place on your ass under the skirt as soon as the door to his apartment closes, and before you know it, you are in his bedroom, sitting on the soft mattress and tongue lost devouring each other.

While eagerly getting rid of every article of clothing, Jungkook notices that you don't have your bra on beneath the shirt, so it's probably back at the parlour, but none of you have the slightest care for it, might as well make an excuse with it later to fuck you in his cabin.

He is pushing you farther towards the headboard, him on top, grinding sensenslesy while your lips mould with his. Though he has his whole body pressed against you, you can't seem to feel his weight at the slightest, every one of his actions were just balanced and perfect.

As Jungkook goes down on you, his smile is evident against your skin, finally able to find out how every one of those scenarios in his head will come to look like. He lets out a satisfied hum being finally able to suck on your tits, your fingers finding place on his hair, twisting it out of stimulation.

His pelvis is flushed harshly against yours, grinding and rubbing against your pussy for as long as he is rejoicing the feeling of moving his tongue around both the nipples.

He stops rubbing after some point and you whimper at the loss but his fingers are soon to meet your core as a quick apology. All your later moans are muffled on his mouth once again.

Feeling the controlled movements of his fingers on your clit, you dig your nails down on his toned shoulders. It's becoming impossible to reciprocate his lewd movements of tongue on your lips at this point as the excitement between your thighs is growing every passing second.

Your mouth remains slightly parted as he removes his face to watch you squirm underneath, lips swollen, deep red and glossy from all the saliva.

He pecks at the shell of your ear before going down past your navel.

You haven't had much heads in the twenty years of your life, most of the guys being completely against the idea which made you feel insecure to bring up the topic in bed, but Jungkook does it like his life depends on it.

He growls at the sight of you dripping into his sheets and he seems to enjoy the idea of being the influence behind it. But none is going through your head at the moment, not the metal on his lips grazing against your folds, or the fact that Jungkook is grinning each time you cry his name, it feels unreal to feel something like this.

His mouth is wrapping against your entrance and he is balancing your lower body on his palms to help him reach the right depths inside you. While all you can muster up is the strength to grope the bedsheets in your fist and close your eyes at the pleasure.

Jungkook brings his head higher to give some attention to the throbbing clit, catching it between his teeth and triggering the bundle of nerves just the perfect dose to have your hips jolting up to his face.

He can't take it himself when you are now whining and chasing for your release, so he is slightly humping against the bed to get some friction.

He licks a slow stripe up till your abdomen and slowly raises to your face, already fucked out and dishevelled to keep up with his dominant orbs.

He swears he had never felt so much warmth and care for sex with any of his previous partners, in relationship or not, all he could think is how good can he treat the pleading eyes underneath him.

"Is there something you like that you want me to do?", he says, fingers grazing once again to your crotch to not deny you from his contact. Only this time he is exploring the tightness of your pretty cunt with two skillful fingers.

Is there? You are not sure. Or in other words you are too caught up at the sense of him fingering you. It's not like you had enough experience or people who cared enough to ask that question. It astounds you that never in this entire foreplay he asked for any favor for himself.

"I'm not sure…", you whisper and then maybe you have something on your mind " um I guess I would like to be choked" Okay this felt embarrassing.

He smiles before sliding his free hand from your lips to your neck, and applies slight force, careful to not hurt you in the slightest bit.

"Is that fine?"

"Yeah", you muffle through the decreasing course of air.

He pulls up your face by the throat to attach lips once more. He just can't seem to get enough of kissing you senseless. Then, the tip of his long ignored cock is teasing the length of your pussy twice before it's stretching you out to the brim.

Bodies flushed and hot, his pace is deep and slow, making sure to kiss the cervix every time he is inside.

He watches as your eyes close shut and flutters around whenever he is grazing against your sweet spot. Both of your ears lost and eager for the moans looming out of each other, his more like what he sounds at the gym. Nice observation Y/n.

In this span of sexual energy you shared, you can make some obvious conclusions. Sex with him was surreal, both in terms of domination and the care he had. Rocking against him and keeping up with his hips was attainable— Compared to the intense eye contact he tries to hold, or the way he cups the side of your face and rubs the pad of his thumb on your cheeks while he kisses you during sinking back in, or the way his eyes glow at the beauty of your body open for him. It makes you feel special and it's difficult to respond to these gestures when you never felt this way before.

Jungkook could tell that from your face, but he hopes he lasts with you enough to help you know the worth you hold. You couldn't think too much about anything when you are busy squeezing around his length and coming twice in the first ten minutes.

By the third orgasm Jungkook is nearing his own and he pulls out to pump a few times before coming on your stomach.

"Was it okay?", his voice is all over the place, still balancing his body on his arms while you are amazed by his strength.

"It was amazing Jungkook", you smile. You have known a lot about Jungkook over the few dates you spent with him. That he likes literature, classics and philosophy, designs tattoos as a subconscious thing, that his game is A-1, and he likes working out almost three hours a day. Good for you. But it wasn't until now you know him to be gentle, like he is afraid to crush you under a feather touch. You don't know him as someone who is staring deep into your face after a good fuck, speaks nothing, smiles widely, and plants a peck on your forehead before getting off the bed.

He does the honors of cleaning both of your bodies with a towel, it's not like you have any strength left in you anyway. And then pulls out an ointment from the bedside table and plops next to your body.

"There. You need this to protect the tattoo", he takes off the nozzle and applies a required amount against the words on your chest and massages against them.

"Now go to sleep Juliet", he mocks, pulling up the sheets over you both "good night".

You snuggle against his hard chest, kissing his pecs before resting on it, "Good night Romeo".

thank you so much for reading!! please leave a feedback!!

★ taglist: @pjmochii (dm, ask or comment to enter the tl!)

★ credits: @/rainbeary on spotify : songs that'll make you feel everything's in slow motion playlist

★ banner & boards: by me :)

a/n: this is my first time writing smut and i basically died of second hand embarrassment during the process. pardon for my untalented ass, i tried this wip continuously for a week and i seriously don't think it could get anything better though it's probably not much.

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ecoamerica · 1 month

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lostinthewiind · 3 years

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Piss Off Your Parents - Part 9

Ukai Keishin - Haikyuu

Synopsis: freshly turned 18, you want to prove to your parents that you aren’t a child for them to push around anymore. First, get a job at the local corner store. Second, use the store owner’s 26-year-old son with piercings and a cigarette addiction to piss your parents off. Third, accidentally fall in love.

Rating: PG13

Warnings: arguing, harsh language, swearing

Song → 18 by Anarbor

Previous → Part 8

Next → Part 10

The trek up the stairs from the store to the apartment felt like climbing a never-ending escalator that was going the wrong way. After the day you had had, you were both mentally and physically exhausted and ready to call it a night early.

Thankfully, as if you had finally hit a stroke of luck that day, Keishin had texted you saying that he would pick up dinner on the way home, saving you the exertion of having to leave the apartment again. So, with that information in mind, you kicked off your shoes for the day and fell unceremoniously onto the couch in the living room.

As you sat down, you heard the envelope in your back pocket crinkle and the sudden noise seemed to completely fill the otherwise silent apartment.

Ah yes, the envelope.

Pulling the decision to your future out of your back pocket, you stared at it for what felt like another hour or so. No matter how long you held the envelope in your hands, you couldn't force yourself to open it. You simply didn't want to.

At some point between when your mother had handed it to you and now, you had subconsciously decided that you wanted to choose your own path forward despite what the decision letter may or may not say.

Feeling strangely empowered and confident, you stood to your feet and ventured into the bedroom where you slipped the envelope into one of the drawers Keishin was letting you keep your clothes in and tucked it underneath one of your sweaters. Maybe one day you would open the damn thing when whatever was inside wasn't weighing so heavily on your mind and future, but today was not that day.

Just then, you heard the front door open and knew Keishin had arrived home. Closing the drawer, you plastered a smile across your face and exited the bedroom to greet your boyfriend.

"Welcome home, Dear," you giggled, trying your best to fake the part of a doting housewife. "How was the volleyball game?"

Keishin chuckled softly as you took the takeout bags from him. "It was a close game, but they pulled it together in the last set and won."

"Oh, good!" You placed the bags onto the table before retrieving some plates and chopsticks from the kitchen.

"How was your day?" he asked as he pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek.

You sighed as you thought back on your day. "It was okay," you answered, not really wanting to go into much more detail than that. You doubted Keishin wanted to hear about your minuscule problems with rude customers after the long day he had clearly had.

Keishin, however, picked up on your uncertainty right away. "Doesn't sound okay," he commented. "Want to talk about it?"

You shrugged. "Just some shitty customers. Seems I had forgotten how poorly low-level workers are treated sometimes . . . just threw me a little," you said. "I'll be fine. Just glad the day is over now."

"You and me both." He flashed a smile as he turned to head for the bedroom. "I'm just going to change quickly and then we'll eat."

"Sounds good." You started dishing out some of the food. "I was also thinking we could watch a movie tonight as well. I could use something to clear my mind."

"Sitting on the couch with a beer is an ideal evening in my book," you heard him respond faintly from the bedroom. "There's a new action movie that came out. I think it's about-"

You waited for Keishin to finish his sentence, but when he didn't, you cocked your head and looked toward the bedroom doorway. Before you had the chance to call out to him, he appeared in the doorway shirtless, eyebrows furrowed and the envelope from the university in his hand.

"W-why do you have that?" you asked, the look on his face upon discovering the letter making your heart drop. "That was in my drawer . . . why were you going through my things?"

"I was looking for my sweater, the one you always steal," he answered. "Y/N . . . what is this?"

Rounding the table and approaching Keishin, you snatched the envelope out of his hand. "That is one of the many reasons why my day today was so shitty."

As you turned to head for the kitchen to toss the envelope in the garbage and rid your life of it, Keishin followed you. "You didn't get in?" he inquired.

You shrugged. "I have no idea. I didn't open it."

As you moved to toss the letter into the trash, Keishin grabbed your wrist and stopped you. "Why are you throwing it out if you didn't open it yet?"

"Because I don't care what it says. I've decided that I'm going to stay here with you and work at the store. This is the life I want . . . the life I get to choose for myself."

"You should still open it," he reasoned. "You might change how you feel about it when you see the result."

"I don't want to change how I feel about it." You shook your head as you gently pried your wrist out of his grip. "No need to make things more difficult than they need to be. I've had enough difficulty for one lifetime, thank you very much. This decision is easy, and best of all, it makes me happy."

Gesturing to the envelope, Keishin sighed. "But this is what you wanted. When you told me about your dream to play soccer at the University of Tokyo, your face lit up. Why are giving up on your dream before you've even given yourself a chance to experience it?"

"Dreams can change, Keishin," you told him before sighing and deciding to humour him for a moment. "Okay, let's say I open this letter and somehow did get in. What then? I couldn't pay for that school in my wildest dreams; not without my parents' help. Sometimes dreams are just childish and unrealistic. So I found a new dream, one with us living here together."

"You could apply for student loans. Tons of people do." He folded his arms across his chest. "I don't think this is about the money or your parents. I think this is about us. You've gotten comfortable here."

Throwing your hands up into the air in exasperation, you huffed. "And so what if I have? Is that really so bad?"

"I just don't want you to throw away an opportunity like this over me."

"Over you?" you cocked a brow. "Because you're, what, trash? Not worth it? A lowlife? A burnout?"

Keishin bit at his bottom lip. "You know what's not what I meant."

Inhaling deeply, you glared down at the god-forsaken envelope in your hand and began to tear at the top. "Let's not fight about something that probably isn't even going to happen." You pulled the letter out and unfolded it, your eyes scanning the text quickly. "The University of Tokyo is notoriously difficult to get into and I-"

Keishin quirked a brow when you stopped mid-sentence. "What does it say?"

A broken laugh was the only thing you could manage as you lowered the letter and shook your head. "Un-fucking-believable." You handed the paper over to Keishin, the edge crumpled from where your grip had tightened when you read the decision.

Keishin looked at the page for all of two seconds before he found the bolded 'Congratulations' and a huge grin spread across his face. "You got in!" He was way more excited than you were about this. "This is good news. You can play soccer at the University of Tokyo. Come on, you can't tell me this doesn't make you at least a little happy."

"I wish it did," you answered honestly. "I wish it were that easy."

"It is! It can be." Keishin set the letter down on the counter and took your hands in his. "Student loans, part-time jobs, it's all possible. Sure, it might be a little tricky to work out, but it's totally possible."

When you didn't respond, Keishin hooked his fingers under your chin and tilted your head up to look at him. "Accept the spot at the university. Follow your dream," he told you.

". . . but I'll have to leave you." You felt the words catch in your throat and tried your hardest not to start crying. "You make me happy—you're the first thing that's made me genuinely happy in a long time—and I don't want to leave that for a chance at something that might not even work out."

"But what if it does work out? You don't know that it won't," he said softly. "Don't end up like me, looking back at your past and wondering what might have been if you had just chosen a different path. I know this might seem good enough for now, but how will you feel after ten or twenty years of working the same dead-end job for the same shit pay all while getting treated like shit by people who look down on you? Look at how one day of catering to pretentious assholes made you feel. Do you really want to live the rest of your life like that?"

"But what about you?" you asked, your voice shaky.

Keishin dropped his head, a few stray strands of hair falling into his face. Unlike that morning, when he had been asleep with loose hairs in his face, he looked annoyed and frustrated now. The bags under his eyes and tension lines on his forehead were a stark contrast to the soft, peaceful face you had woken up to that morning.

"Don't throw this away over me," he repeated. "Don't throw your future away over a 26-year-old burnout."

Lip quivering, you sucked in a deep breath. "I thought you were different . . . but you're just like everyone else."

Keishin eyed you. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You said I should make my own decisions and live my life how I wanted but it was all a facade." You slipped your hand out of his and took a step back. "In the end, you're just like everyone else . . . you think you have a right to plan my future for me without giving me a say in the matter. You want to tell me how to live my life just like my parents."

"How could you say that?" Keishin almost snapped but managed to collect his anger before he did. "All I want is what's best for you."

You scoffed as you wiped a tear from your cheek. "If I had a penny for every time I've heard that I'd have enough money to pay for the University of Tokyo and then you'd get your damn wish . . . I'd be gone."

"When did I ever say I wanted you gone? Why are you so adamant that going to Tokyo means we can't be together?"

"Why are you so against just letting me make my own decision about this?! Why do I have to go to play soccer at that fucking university and leave you? I don't want to leave you!"

"Why not? Why are you so damn hung up on someone like me?!"

"Because I love you!" The two of you froze in place the second those words left your mouth. Chest heaving from the shouting and high emotions, you snapped your mouth shut before you said anything else in the heat of the moment.

Eyes wide, Keishin stared at you like a deer in headlights. "You what?"

You debated whether or not you should repeat what you had said, but by then, the damage had been done. "I love you," you breathed. "And I know you told me not to fall in love with you . . . but I did. I fell hard and fast and now I'm stuck in you and I cannot possibly leave you so please stop asking me to."

You waited for what felt like an eternity for Keishin to say something, say anything. He opened his mouth a few times like he was about to, but nothing ever came out.

"Keishin . . ." You took a cautious step forward. "Please say something."

Keishin swallowed hard before looking you directly in the eyes. "If I said I didn't love you back, would you go?"

You felt your heart crack and the sensation of being punched in the gut spread throughout your entire body. "Is that what you're saying? You don't love me?"

"If I didn't, would you leave?"

You inhaled sharply. "If you look me in the eyes right now and tell me that you don't feel the same way that I do; that everything over the past few months has meant nothing to you, there would be no possible way I could stay in Miyagi," you answered truthfully. "If you tell me that you don't love me and that you never have, I would have no reason to stay in this prefecture."

Keishin's lips parted once more. "Y/N . . . I-" His brown eyes locked onto yours and you could feel what he was about to say even though he never did. "I . . . I can't do this right now."

With that, he brushed past you, grabbed a sweater from the bedroom and threw it on before storming out of the apartment, leaving you and the now cold takeout food alone.

Tears in your eyes and a lump in your throat, you turned to look over your shoulder at the decision letter sitting on the counter, practically taunting you.

You should have thrown the thing out the second your mom dropped it off. Or better yet, maybe you should have never made that deal with Keishin and applied for the university in the first place.

#piss off your parents #part 9 #haikyuu #haikyuu!!!#lostinthewiind #sexy time #haikyuu smut #reader imagine #x reader #reader insert #fanfiction #ukai keishin #ukai keishin x reader #ukai x reader #haikyuu!!#series

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theroomofreq · 3 years

Note

can you give me muggle jily recs pleaaseeee <3 :D

HOW MANY HIGH-QUALITY MUGGLE JILY FICS ARE THERE?? TOO MANY TO COUNT. *cracks knuckles* BUT I am here for the challenge. Jily AUs are my JAM.

Again, shoutout to our amazing @jilyarchive friends who tag every wonderful muggle jily au they come across. here is the link that will take you to their tags page. You'll find links to specific tropes and AUs :')

I've searched through my own AO3 bookmarks and history tabs, and I present to you 28 jily muggle fics that I LOVE. I am THRILLED thinking about all the good things in store for those that read these wonderful stories. This list took me ages to make because I went through and reread most of these brilliant fics. Happy reading !! xx

properly improper by @lizardcookie

“Marry me,” Mr. Potter repeats, closing the distance between them by striding back up towards the sofa, only to stop and crouch to one knee right there at her feet, looking up at her. Burning. “Pick me,” he elaborates. “Pick me, choose me, love me instead.”

- this fic is the reason why I comment the way that I do (spoiler it's because it's amazing)

The Wedding Ring by @mppmaraudergirl

What is undeniably worse than attending your sister's wedding looking as desolate and forgotten as a wilted houseplant? Drunkenly ringing your ex-boyfriend and asking him to be your date.

- SOBS UNCONTROLLABLY AT THE PERFECTION

Oh my god, they were ROOMMATES by @magic-girl-in-a-muggle-world

Silly one-shot, Muggle AU with Fem!Jily as pining roommates and Marlene as their matchmaker.

- the fic that brought me back to jily and inspired my deep obsession of fem!jily

Swipe Right, Swing Left by @downn-in-flames

The unspoken rule of using dating apps in D.C. is that you always start with where you work.

James Potter, it seems, never picked up on that one.

- giddy just thinking about this gem

'Tis the Damn Season by @petalstofish

It doesn't feel like Christmas for Lily Evans, not after losing her parents to COVID before the Holiday season. She anticipates spending Christmas all alone until a boy from her past shows up and offers her a mutually benefiting deal that has her calling him 'babe' just for the weekend. 'Tis the damn season, after all.

- cries in respect for lyrical writing

Watch Me Unwind by @maraudersftw

Lily Evans hates her job, hates the bigoted customers she has to serve as a bartender at the richest club in the city. But the one person who makes bearing all of it worth it has someone else in his arms tonight. (Rated: M)

- obsessed with the way the plot jumps around the time line in this

oil be there for you by @abby10fanfic

Texting/Social Media AU: Lily and James haven't spoken for 2 years. But that's all about to change thanks to Peter and his involvement in an essential oil pyramid scheme. Featuring boss babes, toxin-free lifestyles, binding contracts, and a very oily journey.

- YOU WOULD NOT BELIEVE HOW FAB THIS IS

a matchmaking mission by @downn-in-flames

James Potter has a mission: get Sirius Black and Remus Lupin to finally admit that they both fancy the pants off each other by Valentine's Day.

His partner in crime? Lily Evans, Remus' flatmate, who he also happens to be slightly in love with

- DOUBLE the amount of pining idiots in love :")

about time by @jilyss

'sure, yeah, I can accompany you to that black tie event for your work tonight. wait. why are we on a red carpet?'

- this is my emotional comfort fic, your honor

whiskey business by @elanev91

Sirius Black has a (bad?) habit of picking up hobbies that take over his and James' flat -- this most recent one? Homemade vodka that James now has to try and peddle to everyone in the building.

- hysterical! must read!

Fashion Disaster by @maraudersftw

James Potter is roped into an awful dare by his best-mate, which involves him wearing atrocious pieces of clothing for all days until Christmas as dictated by Sirius. If this wasn't terrible enough, he now has to contend with his maddening crush on the beautiful saleswoman at the clothing store.

- classic hijinks that I live for

it wasn't a pity invite by @elanev91

Part of the December "Winter Tropes" Jily challenge. Prompt: my family invites you to join our holiday meal as an obvious setup and omG i’m so sorry

- awkward Christmas date that owns my heart

spice and honey by @clare-with-no-i

tagging along with her food reporter sister to profile James Potter, London's hottest young chef, is not how Lily Evans pictured her Monday going - especially if he's anything like Petunia’s described.

needless to say, she's in for a whirlwind at Chez Maraudeur.

- I'm one re-read away from printing this out and putting it on my bookshelf.

Waffle Wars by @elanev91

There's only one waffle maker in the dining hall and it literally always breaks. So, naturally, the only reasonable course of action is to meticulously map out when it's working and, ultimately, do a heist.

- the witty narration in this fic can not be matched

You Can Hear It In The Silence by @alrightginger

Lily is non-verbal and deaf in a world where the things your soulmate says about you end up written on your skin. She has known about her soulmate since she was seven, but knows they don't have a clue she exists and possibly never will.

- exquisite, cue me sobbing forever

out the window by @displayheartcode

A new family moves to Ottery St Catchpole.

- everything I could ever want in a fic, forever in my mind rent free

The Christmas Guest by @thegodmachine

An Evans Family Christmas: Petunia is bringing her fiancé and Lily is bringing her…Friend…

- petunia pov that gives me WINGS

Football, Calculus, and Cappuccinos by @moonawrites

At eighteen years old, James Potter has a lot going on. He's a rising star navigating the politics of professional football, the pitfalls of sudden fame, the fallout from choosing his dream over his father's company... and a serious crush on the red headed new barista at his favourite coffee shop.

- I'm still working my way through this fic, but trust me when I say its a GEM

if u like pina coladas by @zephyrcove

Lily is desperate for a date to Petunia's wedding, James has been pining, and their friends meddle ;)

- explain to me how characters can be so perfect via texting fics?

Shelf Awareness by @ghostofbambifanfiction

It's too far out of her way and she's wasting so much money, but Lily can't help but return to the bookstore every weekend, where her passion for good literature has, perhaps, been unexpectedly reignited by the messy-haired, pun-making, rather handsome bloke who works there.

- you absolutely must know that I binge read this and then immediately REREAD it

How to win a witch in 10 days by @adenei

“She’s going to find some unsuspecting wizard, get him to fall for her, and then do all the things that turn men away to get him to break things off! Won’t it be the best way to see what witches do that drives men crazy?” But what happens when the man in question is a blast from Lily Evans's past? A Jily Magical AU based on the romantic comedy "How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days."

- fic based off of a rom com? YES PLZ :’)

The Fight Before Christmas by @ghostofbambifanfiction

The heartwarming Christmas tale of Lily Evans and James Potter - two plucky kids who hated one other, until the day they really, really didn't.

- complete sucker for this one

All This Time by @thejilyship

James and Lily grew up next door to one another. Their bedroom windows giving them glimpses into the others life, and also offering prime opportunities to argue with each other over every little thing. They never figured out how to be friends when they were kids, but now that they've graduated from college and are home for the summer, they have a second chance to get things right.

- one of my favvvv tropes

Let Me Love You by @thejilyship

With only a month until she's set to take the throne of Gryffindor, Lily is informed that she'll have to get married or choose to give up her throne. She never thought she'd have to even entertain the idea of an arranged marriage. Enter, James Potter.

- cries in princess diares AU

The Fabulous Baker Brothers by @frustratedpoetwrites

Lily walks a different route home from work and stumbles upon a cute little Bakery with an even cuter baker in the window.

- yes yes yes to embarrassed pining.

Marigold Mornings by @mppmaraudergirl

This is a fun game she thinks, as she removes her hand from his side and reaches up to run it down his chest. He catches her hand in his own, takes a step forward so that her nose nearly brushes against his shirt. She can feel the heat radiating off of him—or maybe it’s from her. He licks his lips and her eyes are drawn to the motion. She knows it is a bad idea, absolutely knows it.

- incredible storytelling featuring dynamic characters :') a favvv

Welcome to Pettyville by@women-inthe-sequel @alrightginger

When Lily Evans accidentally sends a text to the wrong number, she isn’t expecting to find the right person behind it. She can’t stop talking to Prongs. The only thing is, Prongs can’t stop talking about the girl in his class. What could go wrong, other than the number?

- LOVE SQUARE ANYONE

The Kiss a Stranger Project by @alrightginger

“What’s your name, then?” she asks, realizing they haven’t even properly introduced themselves yet. She nervously crosses her arms.

You shouldn’t kiss a guy without knowing his name first.

Right?

- THIS ONE WILL LIVE IN MY MIND FOREVER

#ror reqs #jily fic #mugge fic recs #jily fic rec list

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imaginewarehouse · 3 years

Text

Various Males x Fem!ExModel!Reader || Oneshot

Plot: You, a retired model get hired at Cloud 9 and, not-at-all-surprisingly, you get harassed by every allegeable (According to them) bachelor in the place- but god fucking damnit! You’re just here to get a paycheck??!

“You can’t knock ‘em out, you cant walk away,

Try desperately to think about the politest way to say,

“Just get out of my face,”, “Just leave me alone,”

“And no you cant have my number,”,

“Why?”

“Cuz I lost my phone.”

(Inspired by Lily Allen’s Knock ‘Em Out)

Includes (In order of appearance after the introduction bit): Sal Kazlauskas, Garret McNeil, Tate Staskiewicz, Isaac (And I think my favouritism here definitely bleeds through*Cough*), Elias Greene, Cory, Jonah Simms, and Marcus White.

Warnings: Sal, harassment (They leave after you say no though. Just to be sure)

🔆 🔆 🔆

“And uh, yeah one last thing before we all hop off to work! We have a new Cloud 9 family member. Y/N! Would you like to stand up?” Glenn, the lovely man who took your interview a week ago and then went out of his way today to look for you out front in the morning to show you around quickly and guide you through clocking in, finds you in the crowd of workers and gestures for you to stand.

Oh, uh- uhh, okay! Up we get, then, you think as you stand up like he said and take a look around at all the judging eyes, which normally wouldn’t phase you but here is a lot scarier than what you’re used to. This an entirely different environment to getting up at a modelling gig- you know nothing about working this kind of job! You’ve never done it, so, you’re afraid they’ll judge you right off the bat and make it difficult for you to ask questions. And you can’t keep bothering Glenn- he has more important things to do.

Oh god, you hear whispering. You peer around. Where is that coming from?-

“This is Y/N L/N! She’ll be working with Go back’s today,” Right, Go Back’s Easy enough; Glenn explained them earlier before the meeting started. “So if you see her in your area- be sure to say hello and see if she needs some help, K? Good. We’re jazzed to have you with us Y/N.”

“Thank you!” You quip quickly, then sit down and focus on Glenn again, hoping dearly at the same time that attention disperses from you immediately.

Glenn smiles, glancing down at his clipboard for any last-minute messages. “Okay! I think that’s it, so- “

The whispering from before suddenly cuts off. “Uh yeah, question?” Glenn stops short when a man in the back kind of rudely cuts him off, but sighs out a ‘Yes, Marcus?’ as the woman beside him - Dina, - rolls her eyes severely. Oh, you let a tiny ghost of a smirk slip over your lips. That’s kind of a reaction, isn’t it? “Yo- new girl.” What- me- w h y- You immediately get awkward again and twist around in your chair, but don’t really know who to look at. Luckily the tall brunette in the warehouse uniform is pointing, so you figure it out pretty quick that that’s who you’re looking for, and calm down. Mostly.

Yeah? You raise one eyebrow. “Hi?”

He grins back to the right and the left of him, to his equally pleased buddies and pals, before raising a Vogue magazine- and it’s the issue on which you scored the front page. Jeez, that was months ago! “Is this you?”

A chorus of ‘Ohhhhh’ and general excitement travels around the room and for the first time ever, you’re half ashamed to admit that yes that is you. In your usual circle this is something to be proud of… but you get that it isn’t really like that, in non-modelling circles. In fact, it could be something to be embarrassed about.

Especially seeing that oh dude and his gang of Michael Myers fashion wannabes look like a hungry, dim-witted, wolves rather than plainly interested about your modelling career.

But, still, you smile politely and nod. Hopefully it’ll be forgotten before the afternoon, at least. “Yeah, that’s me.”

“Nice.”

Hmm… you really, really hope that it’s forgotten soon, at least, as you turn back around to face the front again as Glenn sends everyone off to work. Because if not, then these boys are going to learn the hard way that models take self-defence classes religiously.

Or at least you are going to have a very uncomfortable day, which is just great. You groan inwardly at the thought, as you gather up your coffee from the table beside you and drop it in the trash can on the way out.

You’re just doing your own thing and someone

Comes out of the blue,

They’re like,

“Alright”

But he’s saying

“Yeah can I take your digits?”

And you’re like, “No, not in a million years, you’re nasty.

Please leave me alone.”

There’s already so many Go Back’s! You think excitedly, as you get to work looking for where things should be. You’re glad to have something to do- at your first job with Chuck E Cheese, before you got into the modelling thing, you were basically useless the first day because you weren’t allowed to grill yet, you didn’t know how to assemble, and they didn’t want you out on the floor for the birthday party that was happening, in fear that you would mess up royally. So you just sat around trying not bother anyone, and that felt terrible. So, wandering the aisles of Cloud 9 with a full shopping trolley searching for products and neatening things up? Sounds like a good deal to you. Yes please.

“Uhh, hi.”

You practically jump entirely out of your skin, hearing the voice right beside you and whip your head around to see a balding guy in a blue Cloud 9 jacket. Is this man licking his fingers!?

“Uh,” You step back with your brightest, most polite smile, picking something up from the Go Back’s cart and rounding it to put it between you and the man, before acting like you’re stupid enough to be putting barbecue sauce in the Barbie section, and then… “Oh, oops! Silly me!” You flash the guy a nervous look. “I’m still working things out… “

Well? Better to look like an absolute idiot, then be standing within grabbing radius of the creepy man licking his fingers that you’re all alone in the middle of an empty aisle with. “Um… so, what’s up? Did someone send you to find me, or… am I doing something wrong? You know better than me, after all!”

“No… “His gaze licks up your form and if it weren’t for all your ‘training’ in staying still and not feeling this kind of thing- you absolutely would have wigged out. “You’re doing fine… Just wanted to see you.”

Boy- if anyone else could see your face right at this moment, full of disgust and mild horror, you’re sure you would be YouTubes next hit. Or a meme. “Oh… “You nervously chuckle. “Um, well, I’m gonna… go… “You pull the trolley around so that you can back up out the back of the aisle and escape through stuffed toys, into the open but his hand comes down on the other end of the trolley- stopping it. Before you can stop yourself, verbal diarrhoea spews from your lips. “Glenn has my resume- there’s a photo on there you can have.”

“That’s okay I prefer them to be breathing.” Both his hands are on the end of your trolley now, tight so his knuckles turn white, and he’s breathing unnecessarily heavy. He’s even leaning over the trolley some like his body really can’t handle whatever terrible heat is plaguing it right now. Oh god, oh god oh god oh god… this is so gross.

“Well, that’s… u-understandable...”

He looks up into your eyes, now, and doesn’t blink. Who the hell is this guy?! “Say… “ Oh no, oh no- he’s coming around the trolley-he’s coming around-he’s close-too close-too close-mayday-MAYDAY- Slowly, in your face, he licks up his thumb, makes an ‘Mm,’ sound, and you deeply wince; So much so in fact that one of your eyes completely closes. “Could I take your phone number?”

You absolutely couldn’t have helped what happened next if you had wanted to.

“Eeeeuuuwwwwwwww no not in a million years, your nasty, please leave me alone!!” You exclaim in a high voice before abandoning the trolley and rushing off to customer service.

“No you cant have my number,”

“Why?”

“Cuz I lost my phone.”

By the time you got to the front desk, you had basically calmed down and were mostly just stressed that you left the Go Back’s behind- but still must look troubled as the guy manning the front desk makes a confused, half-concerned but mostly intrigued kind of face at you as you stop there. You’re about to explain your appearance - that or just shrug, not too bothered about reporting whatever mess that was. Not on your first day, at least. No way. - when his face relaxes, and he nods. “Ohhh. Damn, Sal got to you?”

Sal? Was that the guy’s name? You didn’t check. “Oh, was that his name? I was a bit too preoccupied by his eyeballs sucking out my soul, to notice his name tag.” Now that you’re thinking about it, though, you glance at this man’s name tag. Garret.

“Yep, that’s Sal. That’s just one of the wonderful things involved in working here that you’ll just have to get used to.” Garret grins, offering you a chill perspective with a side of cynicism. You sigh, truly feeling relieved that you’ve found a normal person and relax your back against the taller part of the desk.

“Brilliant.” The sarcasm drips off the tip of your tongue.

“You’ll have to deal with a lotta that here, though, looking like you do.” You turn your head to the side to look already exhausted just by the idea, at him. He shrugs. “Hey, I don’t make the rules. I just speak the truth.”

“God- I feel sorry for the other women working here.”

“Oh, no. They’re in a completely different wheelhouse to you. Sorry.” Garret leans on his forearms on the desk, and you roll over to lean on your shoulder and pay attention. “See, you’re a model- “

“I was a model,”

“You were a model- which through primitive male thought process makes you prime real estate. Whoever manages to ‘bag’ you, for lack of a better word I apologise, gets some serious bragging rights.” He shrugs, and looks vaguely apologetic but still some how shameless as this utter bullshit slips out of his mouth. “We can’t help it- some of us don’t even know we’re doing that, but we are. Actually, I’m probably the only one who’ll admit it… which… kinda makes me your best option. Self-awareness, and all that.”

Oh. A dry laugh comes out of you as you feel a text come through in your back pocket and pull out your phone. As you see that its not an urgent message, you immediately put the phone back and glance around for any supervisors before returning to your conversation with Garret. “Oh- of course it does.”

“Exactly!” He grins, and you can’t tell through his expression at all whether he’s genuinely this clueless or if he’s just shooting his shot. “So- “

“No, you can’t have my number.”

“Why?”

Deadass, in a very monotone voice, you say: “I lost my phone.”

Then the two of you just have a stare off for a minute. Garret because he just saw you use your phone, and you because you wont back down.

“Oh yeah, actually yeah I’m, I’m pregnant. I’m having a baby in like 6 months, so no. Yeah, yeah… “

“You know,” The chemist pipes up from behind the Pharmacy desk as you put back some pill boxes he said were fine to return to the shelves, and you glance over at him to show you’re listening, and check his name tag. “I myself considered a career in modelling, before this. People even say, now, that I could model.”

Oh boy. You think, fighting not roll your eyes. And how old are you? Early 30’s? I don’t think so buddy.

“Oh, well, I wouldn’t recommend it.” You flash him a nervous grin before returning to your shelving. “You’re good for, like, 3 years. But then you hit 22 and unless you look like Victoria Justice shared with you whatever youth fountain she got chucked into, then you have to find something else to do with your life- despite having nothing to fall back on.” Okay… so… I might be a bit bitter.

Tate chuckles - and oh boy, he sounds just like your old manager. Totally fake, -, hiding his hands in his lab coat pockets. “Yeah, you’re probably right… Besides, I got the better end of the deal, anyway. Doctor for the doctors, they call us.” They call Pharmacists that? Who? That’s news to you. “Ahhh, yeah… I’m doing pretty well for myself.”

“Yep.” Forcing a fake smile his way, you leave the shelf you were stocking and get closer to the desk to stock another, as Tate’s eyes follow you waiting for encouragement of some kind. Doesn’t he have a job to do?? “You chose well!”

“Yeah, thanks. I know.” Ffffff-f a r out. This guy! “You know, you and me, we’d make a good couple.”

Oh? Dear god? You pause your shelving in surprise at the bomb this man has just dropped so casually, fish oil tablets paused on their journey to the shelf mid-air. Could Garret’s crazy-pants theory have been right?

“Ohh,” You giggle nervously, returning to work a bit faster now. “I don’t know. I think for a pharmacist like you, I would envision, like… “An actual doctor? No, I can’t say that. “A personal trainer, or something. Keep you both healthy all-round, you know? Now that’s a power team.” As long as that personal trainer has humility enough for the both of them, at least.

“Mergh,” He makes a face, like ‘What the heck are you talking about??’, before shaking his head of the things you just said and leaning over the desk towards you. You keep packing, even faster now. Like the Flash. Go! Go! Go! Death Con 5!! “So, whadaya say? I could pick you up Friday after work, and we could head up to one of my timeshares?” He says that like it’s such a selling point! You think, fighting off the powerful urge to laugh but still feeling the panic deep in the pits of your soul. “Stake it out together for the weekend? Get to know each other?”

“Uhh… “Excuses! What are they? You slowly stop stocking, turning around to face him and crossing your arms. The man deserves to at least be faced as he’s rejected; You’re kind enough to give him that, at least. “I’d love to! But, the thing is… “Chewing your bottom lip, you think hard.

Ding Ding Ding!!

“The thing is, Tate… “You fake some nerves, now. “I’m actually, uh… “You look up, face relaxing. “Pregnant.”

Oh boy, the way that man recoils at that word, like a terrified, disgruntled, blonde hedgehog. You’re going to laugh so hard about it, later!! “Oh.”

“Yeah! Oh, I mean, yeah… I’m gonna be having a baby, in like, 6 months so… yeah… Yep.“ You shrug to him, as if its just so unfortunate. “Shame.”

She looks in her bag, takes out a fag, tries to get away from the guy on a blag,

Can’t find a light.

‘’Here, use mine.’’

‘’See the thing is I just don’t have the time.’’

Ahh, lunch. Now you can check your texts! Hmm, you look through your notifications and gradually lose excitement. Mum… mum… mum… phone bill company… friend… mum again…

Ah, the glamorous life of the famous.

You roll your eyes, and get to responding to your mothers texts about dinner and when you’ll be home and how your first day is going, not noticing the not-so-jolly, not-so-green-(unless-you-meant-pot) giant approaching you. When you finally finish responding to both your mum and your friend, you put your phone away and start unwrapping your lunch- a typical ham sandwich that you’re actually pretty excited about. That’s one good thing about your sudden drop in financial status; You can put in your damn sandwich as many pieces of ham and cheese as you like. Grinning excitedly, you pick it up and have it halfway to your mouth before another person - a very heavy, large person, - drops down beside you on the bench you’ve commandeered behind the store. You close your mouth without any delicious lunch inside it and look up, politely to the person who’s joined you.

And all you can think, is wow.

He could put you in a suitcase and walk off with you right now and have no problems.

That’s wow.

“Hi! I’m Y/N,” You introduce yourself, offering a hand for him to shake.

“I know.” Oh, well yeah okay that’s understandable. Glenn did introduce you to everyone this morning. Despite the man’s less-then-excited response, he takes your hand in his and shakes. It makes you all giddy inside, honestly. So b i g. “Names Isaac.”

Do you remember Isaac in the breakroom this morning? You wrack your brain for him, because surely if he was there you noticed him-

Oh. Yep, you remember him. He was one of that Marcus-Dude’s pals chuckling and whispering behind him. He was one of the men that had the magazine with you on the front, and if there’s one thing you know about men who carry Vogue in their locker’s it’s that they fit into only 2 groups- interested in fashion, obviously… and interested in the women. And this man clearly is not interested in fashion. Immediately, on this realisation, you feel disappointed- you really could have liked this man right off the bat…

But it looks like he’s just going to be another of the men at this store you have to get to know, before becoming friendly with.

“So,” He starts, and you fight off a wince. Hopefully, you don’t know what’s coming. But… the likeliness of that is not high. “You wanna go out, some time? I’m a big fan of your work.” He smirks.

“Oh, ha ha.” You laugh sarcastically, shaking your head and returning to your sandwich. You take a bite and- Ahhhhhh, so worth the wait. Oh my god. Food orgasm. “At least you’re honest!”

“Yeah, so is that a yes?” His face brightens a smidgeon, which is a lot seeing as he doesn’t seem to be totally all there, in the first place.

You look up at Isaac, and look apologetic. He was honest with you so its only fair that you’re genuine with him. “Sorry… “

“Ah- actually, I don’t know if this’ll change your mind, but I have 2 weeks to live, so… “

Never mind on that honesty thing, then.

Dull-eyed, you stare up at him. “… Uh-huh.”

“Its true! I have, uh, cancer.” He insists, nodding his head and forcing his eyebrows up his forehead all serious-like.

“Cancer.” Right.

“Yep.”

Right, time to look in the bag... You start to wrap up your lunch again - sadly, as now you’ll have to wait until the end of the day and the bus ride home to eat it, - and plop it back away in your bag, getting up and pulling out a cigarette instead- that should hold you over until the end of the day. “My lunch break is actually over, so I should go- Damn, where’s my light?“

Isaac rifles through his pockets until he pulls out an old looking neon orange lighter, and offers it to you. “Here, use mine.”

Oh, no. You stare at it like a deer in headlights. If you accept that, like you really want to right now because it’s been a month since your last smoke, then you have obligations to sit with him for another couple minutes, at least.

Aghh… You groan and whine on the inside, before making up your mind and flinging the cigarette into a puddle. “See the thing is, I don’t actually have the time-”

“Go away now, let me go.”

“Are you stupid? Or just a little slow?”

“Ughhh… “This one has been giving you looks all day, but had no courage until now to speak to you- but the thing is? He didn’t have the smarts, either, to take off his wedding ring at least before he decided to be a bastard and bother you. So you feel absolutely no regret about being exactly as dismissive or plain rude, as you feel. “Elias? Go away now.”

The nervous man, who’s been ringing his hands this whole time and stuttering through failed date requests that you pretended you didn’t understand because of his struggle, gets panicked. “Just let me ask!- Will, will you go out with me?”

“No.” You yawn, dropping a piglet toy into a basket.

“But!- “

Turning away, you start pushing your trolley along to get to the next aisle. “Let me go.”

“We can go wherever you like!”

Sighhhhhhhhh. You turn around and grant him an audience, putting your hands on your hips and raising you brows at the wedding band on his left hand.

“Are you stupid? Or just a little slow?”

“Please fuck off.”

Oh good god in heaven, they’re going bigger with their proposals.

“Y/N! Will you go out with me?”

This man, Corey, has grabbed the announcement phone now that you’re walking away, making you freeze like the dad possum in Over The hedge and seriously consider playing dead, too, as you slowly turn around to look at him again.

Oh, if only looks could kill- he would be so dead that even Vlad the Impaler’s victims would laugh.

This is your first day, and the fact that you’re being harassed by multiple stupid men is bad enough but now he’s calling attention to you like this? Glenn’s going to think you’re a troublemaker!! Jesus fucking Christ- you need this job! Corey continues to talk into the speaker phone, even as he looks into your eyes and sees his death. “And… now… you’re looking at me like that, so uh… I’m just gonna… say please?”

… “’Please’ fuck off.”

“Yes ma’am-“

“Go away now, I’ve made myself clear.

I don’t think so.

Nah its not gonna happen.

Not in a million years.”

Since the run-in with Corey and the following spike in your blood pressure, you’ve calmed down again. But now you’re looking into the two faces of a ‘Mateo’, who you apparently work with, and a ‘Castor’ who does not work here and is not shopping but is still in your face and is t h i s close to feeding that ugly tie to his cousin.

But, still, you’re going to stay graceful, because Castor constantly looks like he’s 3 seconds from pooing himself. “Now please go away, now… I think I’ve made myself clear.” By explaining, politely, that you aren’t looking for a man but thank you for the offer, Castor.

“Oh, but you haven’t heard what Castor does for a living! He’s in insurance,” Mateo explains to you, like this is some huge game changer. When you don’t react, he adds that there’s good money, insurance.

You almost laugh. Does this boy really think you’re such a gold digger? Boy- if I wanted riches then I could’ve easily become a C-Class actor who has no skills in the area, but is pretty so gets praised like she does- like a lotta my model friends.

Instead I’m here, at Cloud 9.

Come to your own conclusions.

But instead of saying that, though, you just shake your head nervously. “I don’t think so… “

“But!- “

“Nah… sorry, its… not gonna happen… “

“But Castor is- “

“Not in a million years… “

“Aw, no. I gotta go. My house is on fire.”

Now, at least this one is respectful, you think, listening to him talk about the products you’re shelving together. He had come over and offered to give you a hand when you looked confused, as a ‘Cheyanne’ had handed you a scanner earlier and then promptly ran off, despite your utter incompetence. You were so relieved that this guy turned up!!

“… so, you just punch in reduce .50, and scan! Its pretty easy, if you have it properly explained to you. I- I was actually in the same situation, as you! When I first started here, except I ended up, uh, reducing all the items in electronics to 15 cense rather than discounting it all 15 percent.” A grin spreads across your lips at the story, and thank god that Jonah had turned up before that happened to you and, with your luck, you got fired for it.

“Oh no!”

“Yeah- Amy, our uh, floor supervisor, was pretty cranky with me about that… “He laughs himself, resting his hands on his hips; Still looking nervous at the memory.

You look back down at the scanner you’re holding and shake your head. “Well at least you know, now! And thank you so much for coming to my aid, haha. I was so lost- you’ve been a huge help! A life saver, truly.”

“Yeah… “ He gives a cute little, reserved smile. “So, uh, its basically the end of the day! Hope you’re first day hasn’t been too strenuous. At the end of my first day, I know I was tired. But I got to go out with a couple of the other employees and have a drink, to destress. If-If you were free, we could… do something. Together.” Your eyebrows slowly raise up your forehead at that, and you turn to look up Jonah, sceptical. What was that? You sure have had a long day, and its about to get a lot longer if this boy is asking what you think he is. “Sorry! Sorry, that sounded weird. Um, I guess what I’m really asking, is… would you like to, I dunno, go out with me sometime? I know some great places.”

Oh, noooooo! You cry, on the inside. You thought you found a normal one!

Still, he is being so nice… The least you could do is let him down easily.

“Oh, Jonah, I actually… oh- sorry.” Your phone beeps in your pocket and you take it out quickly to have a glance - its just your mother… again, - … and suddenly get an idea. Feigning shock, you quickly put the phone away and put down the scanner. It’s time to clock out and go home, anyway, thank god. “I have to go! That was my mum, uh- I really have to go!”

“Wow, wow, wow, what’s wrong?? Can I help with anything?”

Oh… he looks so concerned. He’s sweet.

But before you can rethink your words, this living horror slips out. “My-my house is on fire.”

Oh god, you’re a horrible person.

“I’ve, I’ve got herpes. No- Syphilis!”

Oh thank god the day is over. Rolling your shoulders back, you kneel down at your bottom locker, open it up and take out your bag. Now you can go home and put on Gotham on Netflix, wear no pants and eat thin mints until you fall asleep.

When you get up, you aren’t watching out for a man to be standing barely half a foot away from you - Your mistake, obviously, - so you jolt right out of your skin when you see him and curse. What is wrong with these men? Does Cloud 9 offer complimentary staff ninja classes along with their lack of health insurance? Man, classy company. “Sorry!” You look up past the coveralls after stepping a safe distance back from him, and immediately feel dread deep in your chest. “Oh, hi. Marcus, was it?”

“That’s me! How was your first day?” He asks, seeming polite enough despite the fact that you’re cornered between tall boy and the lockers. And you’re too tired to try and slip away- this boy will get out of your way.

“It was good! Thanks for asking. I’m ready to go home and collapse, though.” You admit, shoulders dropping and a tired smile on your lips. Mmm… thin mints… bed… blankets… Cory Michael Smith… I can taste it… Marcus just needs to get out of my way.

“I hear that.” Evidently not quite as deeply, though, as he moves on pretty fast. “Listen- I was thinking if you’re into it we could… go out, some time.” He tilts his head forward to clarify, “On a date,”, in case that part hadn’t translated, and chuckles. “We could see a movie or get drinks, or something, I don’t know. How about tonight?”

T-tonight? The word nearly slips from your lips; All disbelief and tears and exhaustion, included. You’re so tired. “Um… you know, tempting offer, but um… “He looks so hopeful. It nearly changes your mind. “Not tonight.”

“OH! So like, tomorrow?” Oh christ- “Cuz I’m supposed to watch Celebrity Get Me Out Of Here with my mum, but… no, I can blow that off! So, tomorrow?”

You take a deep breath, not really knowing what you can say. “Marcus… “He raises his eyebrows, waiting for an answer. “… I have herpes.”

“Wait, what??” He steps back, nearly tripping over a table in his fear that just being near you will cause him to contract the disease, and you let your guard down in relief. Yep, for sure, definitely. If it makes him back off, then yes- you have herpes. You have a raging, festering case of herpes.

“Yeah! Or-“ Squinting, you pretend to sift through your brain. “Was it Syphilis?” This boys eyes basically bulge out of his head and you’re totally going to laugh about it later, but right now you have to get out of there. You waive your hand dismissively and walk on by him towards the door like you don’t have a care in the world. Before you leave though, you turn around a flash Marcus a big smile. “Either way, ew, right? Well, see you tomorrow buddy! Gotta go! Enjoy I’m A Celebrity with your mum.” Then you’re gone.

Tomorrow is going to be a much better day, once that rumour is properly spread.

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professortennant · 3 years

Note

Ok, how about Rebecca consoling Ted after the team loses a big game?

For a moment, just a moment, she--along with the rest of the AFC Richmond crowd--had thought they had pulled off a miracle, a Cinderella story that the press would be talking about for ages. Relegated only to win a Championship League final in the very next year, a team with a vengeance and a coach with a chip on his shoulder.

He hid it well, Rebecca thought. But now that she knew he hated being underestimated, counted out before the match even begun, she had seen a real change in him. She’d asked Beard about the change during a training session she was observing, the sun and blue sky too tempting to not go out for a bit. Ted was running right alongside his players, yelling words of encouragement and correction in equal measure.

“I think he’s realized he’s not in Kansas anymore.” A beat of silence and then, “And I think he wants to prove himself to y--everyone.”

She hummed in acknowledgment and watched as Ted blew his whistle, jogging to midfield, and animatedly demonstrating the run he wanted for his players. It seemed now that the team was on the same page, it was time to put the real work in.

But Lady Fate had other plans for AFC Richmond this evening, a night that should have been victory. A dirty tackle on Richard left him with a torn ACL, lifted off the field on a stretcher, a drizzle of rain made for less-than-ideal field conditions, and a series of simple turnover errors had left the team in disarray and confusion. It was over before it could start.

In the locker room, she watched as Ted tried to cheer his team up, noting that third place didn’t mean they were down and out for the Premier League, that they just had to work a little bit harder for a little bit longer. But even Ted’s heart seemed to be a little bit broken, a little disappointed.

“Ah hell, who am I kiddin’? This flat out stinks. I really wanted this for you boys, I really did. Maybe I let y’all get ahead of yourselves. Let myself get ahead of myself,” he amended, eyes flicking down to his Nikes. “And I’m sorry for that. I should have kept you focused on tonight’s game. We can’t help injuries and field conditions, but we can control energy and the fundamentals. We were sloppy tonight. That team wasn’t better than us. I know it. Y’all know it.” He sighed, looking around the room. “We are going to be promoted this season, fellas. But tonight: Be sad, be disappointed, be angry. Be whatever you gotta be tonight to light a fire under your butts because we are gonna work that much harder starting tomorrow morning.” He nodded his head at each of them before turning on his heels, shoulders hunched inward, leaving his players behind and Coach Beard to wrap up the evening.

Rebecca frowned, following him into his office, shutting the door with a soft click. It had become custom for her to join the team--win or lose--in the locker room, his words from so many months ago still ringing warmly in her ears. You liven up the place.

But this was not the Ted Lasso she was accustomed to seeing: not angry, not encouraging, not blissfully optimistic. Just wilted. Disappointed.

He looked up at her from his slumped position in his chair, a small, tired smile on his face. “Hey, boss,” he sighed, rubbing his hands over his eyes and through his hair, ruffling it and making it stand up. “Not our best showing.”

She stood in front of him, hip leaning on his desk, as she considered him. “Oh, I don’t know about that,” she teases. “There were some real lowlights last season. You yelling like a maniac about stopping the clock comes to mind.”

“Yeah, well, I still think it’s a stupid rule. Why keep the clock running when no one’s playing? Don’t make a lick of sense to me."

“You know what doesn’t make a lick of sense to me?,” she prompted, earning a delighted look from him for using his own phrase as a segue. She tilted her head towards the locker room where she could see players milling about, heading for the showers or crowding around Coach Beard and his whiteboard. “That speech out there wasn’t exactly the Ted Lasso motivational speech I’ve come to expect.”

He groaned and quite suddenly lurched forward, forehead smacking the desk with a loud thunk. She acted without thinking, hands immediately going to the back of his head, fingers sliding through the thick hair, rubbing his head. “Ted! What the bloody hell?”

“‘m fine,” he said, voice muffled against a stack of papers, still facedown. She laughed, relieved to know he hadn’t completely lost his marbles, and tugged gently on his hair, encouraging him to sit up.

Instead, he groaned appreciatively in a way that made her heart pound double time in her chest, fingers hesitating in their movement. She went to withdraw her hand but he turned his head to face her, the movement entangling her hands further.

She looked down at him, eyebrow arched. “Did you turn into a canine while I wasn’t looking?”

He panted at her playfully, a small, half-hearted woof escaping his mouth. “New deal boss: You keep doing what you’re doing and I’ll tell ya the God’s honest truth.”

“You’d tell me the God’s honest truth regardless of my petting, but go on,” she conceded. It was living out a harmless fantasy, she told herself. It wasn’t her fault his hair always looked as it did: perfectly coiffed and styled until it wasn’t, strands falling into his eyes, causing him to develop a new tic of running his hands through his hair, flipping it back into place. It had been maddening to watch and she was self-aware enough to acknowledge the urge to run her own fingers through his hair weren’t platonic in the least (the other images and fantasies accompanying the urge were definitely not to be explored in a packed locker room).

He grinned lazily up at her as she continued stroking his hair, nails scratching ever so slightly at his scalp, causing him to stutter as he spoke, eyes falling closed. “I let them down,” he confesses softly. “I let them get ahead of themselves, horse before the cart, counted those damn chickens before the eggs hatched. I let them think this one was in the bag--didn’t stop ‘em from goofin’ around at practice--training, whatever. I let them down.”

His eyes flickered open, peering up at her, sorrowful. “I let you down.”

Her hands tightened in his hair reflexively. “Me? Ted, how could you let me down? You’ve done everything I’ve asked of you.”

“I told you we’d win the whole fucking thing,” he reminded her. “Close but no cigar.”

"I never thought you’d be one to throw pity parties, Ted Lasso,” she reminded him, tugging at his hair once more before sliding her hand down to his shoulder and pulling, encouraging him to sit up. He did so, exaggerating the motion as if every movement cost him something. She bit back a smile.

He swiveled in his chair and it was only then she realized the position they were in: him in the chair, legs splayed while she stood between them, leaning back against the desk. Her cheeks flushed warm and she shook her head slightly, clearing the fantasy from between her ears.

She reached down to take his hand in hers, squeezing slightly. He clung back, fingers wiggling between hers so they were interlocked. She forgot sometimes that he was as desperate to touch as she was to be touched.

“You did promise me you’d win the whole fucking thing. But I don’t recall a timestamp on that promise,” she reminded him. “And this is not over, Ted, not by a long shot. We have one more chance to make it to the Premier League for next season. The season is not yet over, Coach. And I don’t want your players--our players--thinking it is, either. We have work to do and I need you pushing every single one of those men to believe in themselves and this team the way that I believe in you.”

The words came earnestly but awkwardly, a year of walls and shields and a lifetime of British distaste for sincerity and emotions making the speech stilted. It certainly wasn’t a patented Ted Lasso speech, but she thought it a rather good Rebecca Welton.

Ted was looking at her with something akin to awe, mouth parted and eyes bright and gleaming.

“Rebecca?” he asked, voice low, standing from his seat, still holding her hand. With him standing and her leaning against his desk, he towered over her ever so slightly, just enough that she had to look up to him. “I would really, really like to kiss you right now, if that’s alright.”

She blinked at him for a moment, mind racing, before giving a single, jerky nod. The moment she indicated her consent, he was there, fingers disentangling from hers so he had both hands free to cup her face on either side, cradling her gently as his lips pressed softly, quickly to hers. The combination of the warmth of his lips, the tickle of his mustache, and the sudden shift in action had her gasping into the kiss, her hands steadying themselves on his hips, clutching at one of his ridiculous jumpers, kissing him back as insistently as he was kissing her.

And then it was over.

But Ted kept his hands on either side of her face, thumbs stroking over the soft curve of her cheek, his forehead pressed to hers. “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time now, but, uh, never seemed like the right time.”

“And now was the right time?,” she asked breathlessly, her own fingers and thumbs making abstract geometric shapes along his hips and sides, tracing the lines of him.

He pulled back, grinning, and she was delighted to see that his eyes were once again gleaming with the positive, radiant, sunshine force she had come to associate with him.

“What can I say? I’m a sucker for a good pep talk.”

#ted lasso #ted lasso fic #ted x rebecca #THANK YOU FOR THE PROMPT #honestly regretted having the team around bc they woulda gotten up to a lot more in that office...#and rebecca's fantasies are my own my god that hair #andreasbayden

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ecoamerica · 2 months

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youtube

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crowtrinkets · 3 years

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Your Weary Widow Marches

A Gender Neutral MCxFelix fic in which our dear barista educates their teacher and shows him some music from their home.

I’ve never really written fanfiction before but I thought Id give it a shot. The formatting looks weird on my end so if it looks weird after posting I apologize I couldn’t figure it out. Hope you enjoy!

—-

The crackling fire and pages being turned were the only sounds heard for the past few hours. Felix and I sat on either side of a couch placed in Anisa’s office silently reading our respective books. I’ve been in Astraea for nearly a week and had I known that Felix’s teaching method would be done via reading books the size of an encyclopedia I probably would have chosen Sage or Anisa instead... probably

I glance up at Felix, he’s sitting with legs crossed slouching on the arm rest of the couch, glasses on and enthralled in his book. I'm leaning with my back against the arm rest facing Felix, peering at him from behind my knees. I watch as his eyes scan the pages, partially hiding behind my book so he doesn’t notice me stare. I rub my eyes, dry from the endless reading of Astraean history. I know plenty of history and lore from this world thanks to countless hours of playing Last Legacy and stalking forums, but I don’t think I could’ve convinced Felix of that without having to explain what video games are let alone the internet. He thought if I were to learn magic I should at least know part of its history and it’s contribution to their society.

Despite spending some time with Felix I'm still amazed at the attention span he has for reading. I scan the room trying not to move too much lest I be scolded by the warden. I glance over at the high back chair across the room. The one Anisa sat me in after my jaunt through Felix’s portal and painfully onto Anisa's desk. My mind begins to wander.

I’ve only been here a short time but I feel like I’ve adjusted well. I wonder what's happening on Earth. Does time pass the same at home like how it does in this realm? World? Alternate universe? I still don’t exactly know how to explain my predicament. Has anyone noticed I'm gone yet? I wonder if I’m on the missing persons list, someone at work will have noticed I didn’t show up for my shifts. I cringe slightly at that last thought, my open book now resting on my chest. Ah damn it, I’m definitely fired aren’t I. How am I gonna pay my bills.... and my home, I miss my bed....my plants. SHIT MY PLANTS. I bring my hand to my face and cringe, my beloved house plants they’re going to wither away in my absence. Fate is such a cruel mistress.

“Bored of reading are we?” I slightly jump at Felix’s comment. I bring my hand down and look at him. Staring at me through his glasses a smirk on his lips. I flush slightly and close my book.

“No I just, got to thinking about Earth, and my life, I guess I’m just a little home sick,” I mumble out those last words. I want to be honest with Felix but I don’t want him beating himself up for my situation. I mean yes he is the reason I’m stuck here but I don't hate him for it. Felix frowns and closes his own book.

“Ah... I am sorry about that, I-“ I sit up interrupting him.

“No no no, I'm not mad at you, I’m actually quite enjoying my time here. I mean I don’t have to make drinks for annoying customers everyday here,” I force a laugh but it comes out awkwardly. Felix gives me a quizzical look. I then realize, with the amount of times he calls “dear barista” I just assumed he knew what it meant. “Yknow, my job? A barista?” Felix flushes and avoids looking at me.

“I must admit.. I do not actually know what that is,” I cant help but chuckle, the great necromancer Felix, is embarrassed to not know something.

“Well my dear teacher," I emphasize the word teacher mimicking the way he calls me, "allow me to educate you on some Earth information,” I sit cross legged and scoot closer to him book in my lap. Felix adjusts to face me properly and removes his glasses. I clear my throat and smile at him. “My part time occupation of being a Barista, requires me to make drinks for customers and sell them, more often I make coffee but sometimes people order tea. We sell pastries as well,” Felix gives me yet another confused look.

“All you do is prepare drinks and flakey confectioneries?” I nod in response with a smile, I can only imagine what he assumed a Barista was. Felix chuckles and runs a hand through his hair, “All this time I thought it was something more complicated, you described your customers as being annoying? I am assuming you do not like this particular job?”

“Well, I don't hate it but the customers can get a little rude and for the dumbest reasons too. One time a woman threw her drink at me claiming I added 3 1/2 shots of espresso and rather than 3,” I laugh to my self looking back at the memory, chuckling more when I see Felix’s horrified expression.

“A woman... threw a drink at you? Because she deemed it made incorrectly? I did not except Earth customs to be so. . . Barbaric,” Felix looks at me astonished and confused but all I can do is laugh. “And why are you laughing? Are you alright did she hit your head when she assaulted you with a beverage?” Felix is now standing while I clutch my stomach in pain, the combination of the story and Felix’s confusion is too much to bare. After a minute I manage to calm down enough to speak.

“No no, she did not hit me in the head, I’m just laughing cause it was funny, well at the time it wasn’t but my co workers took pictures and I looked ridiculous. I can laugh about it now,” I wipe a stray tear from my eye as I recount the experience. Thank god her drink was iced.

“Picture?” Felix chimes in. I try to think of how to explain how photography works but I come up with an idea.

“Why don’t I show you?” I stand handing Felix my book and I jaunt over to Anisa’s desk. I let her peruse my backpack because she seemed so interested in my “Earthly items” as she called them. I walked back over and sit on the floor, patting the ground next to me so Felix can join.

“You known there is a perfectly good sofa right next to you, I don’t understand why you wish to sit on the ground like we are mere children,” but despite his protests Felix sits next to me still clutching our books. I rummage through my back tossing the other items to the side. My wallet, a flyer, a jacket, that granola bar which has definitely crumbled to pieces in its package. Until I finally find it, my phone. My first night here I instinctively tried to use it, forgetting I am now stuck in a world without wifi or cell towers. In an effort to hopefully conserve its battery I hard shut off my phone I did not think I would need it but now is an opportunity for me to educate Felix about my world rather than his and tell him a little about myself. Really I just want a reason to prolong my time from reading anymore history. I hold the power button and silently pray. Please have some battery left, please please. Felix is leaning towards me, his face inching closer to mine, I glance at him studying his expression. He looks confused, and curious at the same time, there's a slight scrunch in his brow like he’s trying to seem like he understands what I’m doing, but I know he doesn’t. In that moment his eyes meet mine, I turn my head to fully face him, a blush creeps up his face and I can feel mine begin to warm as well. “Felix-“

BING

We both jump at the sound of my phone turning on. Damn phone, well I guess I kinda asked for that. Felix sits back and clears his throat.

“Um, what, what is that?” His voice wavers slightly but I choose to ignore it to save him some dignity.

“Its my phone, on Earth nearly everyone has one of these. You can use it to communicate with other people, take pictures, look things up, and listen to music.” I begin to unlock it and open my photo album.

“You can communicate with other people? On this... this flat brick?” Felix points accusatory at my phone the scrunch in his eyebrows have intensified creating deep crevices on his forehead. I nod while I scroll through trying to find the photo.

“Yup and take pictures, such as this one,” I turn my phone to face Felix revealing the image documenting the after affects of being assaulted with coffee. He leans over to get a better look. In the picture I'm standing by the cash register, soaked through my clothes in an extra large coffee's amount of liquid. The brown liquid stains my apron and the parts on my white shirt poking out from underneath. There's smeared whipped cream going across my shoulder up my neck and partially along my jaw, and the scowl on my face could kill a man. The instant I show the picture to Felix he plants a hand over his mouth to stifle his laughter. He turns away in an attempt to hide his amusement but I know he wont last.

“Im-I must apologize I did not mean to laugh but, but the look on your face is hilarious,” Felix faces me again trying to hide his smile with the back of his hand. I start to chuckle, I turn the phone back to me and swipe to the next picture. Its a similar picture but in this one my co worker put whipped cream on top of my head, something about it “completing the look”. When I show this picture to Felix it breaks his terrible attempt of remaining poise. He laughs loudly, and it’s extremely contagious. I laugh along with him reminiscing in his beautiful laugh. Every once in a while we calm down until we look at the picture and we start up again. After a bit I’m able to calm down enough to speak.

“Don’t feel bad for laughing, at the time I was pissed but my co workers cheered me up and now I have these memories to laugh at,” I start to look through my album again as Felix calms down from his laughing high. I find more pictures to show him. Some are of me at work with my co workers, one picture of me laughing as I held a dog that jumped through the drive through window. I show him more pictures, some are of earth sunsets which Felix claimed to look like they belong in a painting. I also show him a picture of some Geese I saw while on a walk, and then a picture of said Geese chasing me. This gets Felix to laugh again but not as hard.

“You lead an interesting life on Earth, it seems similar to Sage you are also prone to provoke others into attacking you,” I roll my eyes at Felix’s joke and give him a friendly shoulder bump. Its at this moment I realize how close he’s sitting. Our books set aside and Felix is leaning on one arm politely looking over my shoulder at my phone, I can tell he doesn’t really understand how it works but it seems he’s enjoying this moment to much to ask. In an attempt to keep the sweet moment I change the subject.

“Hey do you want to listen to some Earth music?” With a nod from Felix I close the app and instinctively go to press my streaming app. Damn no Internet. I think for a second and remember I have some music I bought in times before streaming apps existed. I find the app and open it. Dear god my taste was cringey. I scroll through the songs until I stumble across a less than embarrassing song. “This is a classic where I come from, everyone has heard this song at least once. I lay back onto the floor so I can properly listen to the music. Felix looks at me and awkwardly lays down as well, I click on the song allowing it to play.

Just a small town girl

Livin' in a lonely world

She took the midnight train goin' anywhere

Just a city boy

Born and raised in South Detroit

He took the midnight train goin' anywhere

Felix gives me a puzzled look but I just shrug and look up at the ceiling. I close my eyes and take in the song as it plays. If I concentrate hard enough I can imagine my self back on Earth. Sitting in my room listening to 80s music while I do laundry or cook my dinner. I start to feel nostalgic again but I try not let my emotions take over. The song ends and I pause it before it plays the next song. I roll onto my side and rest my head on my hand.

“So what’d you think?” I beam at Felix, I genuinely want to know what he thinks of Earth music, and more specifically a song that I am quite fond of. Felix is laying flat on his back, he ankles crossed and his hands laying on his chest. He looks nervous to be laying on the ground next to me but has made no attempts to leave.

“I thought it was... interesting to say the least. It had quite a captivating story although I was confused when the subject changed multiple times, and what exactly are they trying to “not stop believing” in” Felix does air quotes and seems genuinely enthralled in the “story” of the song. I smile and start to look for another song.

“How about you choose the next one?” I tilt my phone towards him. Felix sits up at my question.

“I dont feel very well versed in Earth music though,” He mumbles. I shrug at his comment.

“Just pick one with a name that sounds interesting to you” I show Felix how to use the phone and hand it to him laying back down. I peek at Felix, he’s holding the phone in one hand and is scrolling with the other, he’s holding it like an old man. I watch his face, he’s thoroughly looking at every single song title and determining whether they are interesting or not. I find it... cute, his concentration face is cute. Oh if he caught me staring I know he would become a blubbering blushing mess, I mean I would be too. I close my eyes again as I wait for him to pick.

“This one seems interesting,” I hum in response, but when Felix says the title out-loud and panic seizes through me. I sit up and shout WAIT but I'm too late. He already pressed it. And then I hear it.

That dreaded, infamous G note. Felix turns towards me surprised and hastily hands the phone to me, I pause it before another note can play.

“Hells MC what will that song make my head explode or something??? You nearly made my heart stop.” Felix takes a deep breath with his hand on his chest.

“I'm sorry, that song its kind of embarrassing actually,” I can feel myself flushing, I look away in embarrassment at the fact that I had that song downloaded and the fact that I nearly sent my teacher into cardiac arrest.

“Embarrassing how?” Felix looks at me puzzled. I open my mouth to speak but then stop. Hold on a second, Felix doesn’t know this band, let alone what an emo phase is. Well judging by his raven skull necklace he does but not in the way I do. I guess it wouldn’t be so bad if we listened to it. I do still like their music. But god did it HAVE to be this song. I clear my throat and look back at Felix.

“Nothing, it’s nothing I was just being dramatic,” I stifle a laugh. “We can listen to it, I actually quite like this band,” Felix nods and turns to face my direction, were now both sitting cross legged and I press play on the song. I smile a little as the song plays and close my eyes again. I cant even remember the last time I listened to this song. My mind begins to wander again, to my younger years when I first heard this song.

I was such a try hard back then, wanting so badly to “be different” but also to mend the emotional pain I was going through, and this band really helped me through it. This song is a little more narrative than the last one so I hope Felix would like it. I can’t believe I freaked out like I did god he must think I'm crazy, or maybe that lady really did hit my head when she threw that drink at me. As the song plays I silently hum to it, quiet enough so that Felix might not hear. I drink in the lyrics and instruments and it feels like I'm listening to it again for the first time.

The song ends and I open my eyes again to pause the music before it plays another one.

“So what did you think of tha-“ before I can continue I'm stopped by the sight of Felix’s face. His eyes are misty and his nose is colored pink. Was he... was he crying? Felix looks at me and his eyes go wide. He quickly turns away and rubs at his face.

“There-there is quite a lot of dust on this floor, honestly you would think Annie would have any sense to clean in here every once in a while,” I cant help but smile, wow he really is a goth child.

“It’s ok Felix, this song makes me cry sometimes too,” Felix side eyes me and sniffles.

“I-I was not crying, yes I admit the song was... moving to say the least…. But, but I will not be mocked by you for my emotions,” Felix turns to face me again refusing to meet my eyes, his voice turning accusatory. I scoot closer to Felix and place a hand on his shoulder. He looks at me astonished and slightly flushed, either from the contact or the crying, I mean dust, I will never know.

“Congratulations” I say with a smile. Felix’s puzzled look twists even more.

“What ever are you talking about,” Felix questions.

“You’re emo now,”

#fictif games #fictif #fictif last legacy #last legacy fictif #last legacy #fictif felix #felix iskandar escellun #felix escellun #fictif sage #fictif anisa #crow writes

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toothpastecanyon · 3 years

Text

Noie's Friends, Chapter 3

A collection of oneshots about Noie's years at college.

See most updated version on Archive of Our Own.

_____________________________________________________________

“Hmm… what should I have today? What, should, I, have?”

Tapping on the counter. Noie stretched her shoulders a bit, and tapped the register to stop it going to sleep.

“Huh. You know, I just don’t know any of these teas.” The man scratched his stubble. “You guys sell an awful lot of them, don’t you?”

“Yes. We’re a tea shop, sir.”

“Oooh, sir. I don’t get sir’ed very often…” he peered at her name tag. “Naomi. Oh, that’s a pretty name. Where’s it from?”

She shrugged.

“You don’t know? Oh, I know where my name comes from, John’s a good English name, you know? There was a King John once. In fact, how’s about I write it down on this napkin…”

Noie found herself glancing over his shoulder. If only she could tell him there was a line.

“You can call me up anytime, little lady.” He passed it to her with a wink. “Anyway, where was I… Oh, do you guys have Dr Salt? I think I’ll take that over your weird teas.”

“Okay, we’ve got them in the back.” Noie stepped away. “They’re kind of expensive here, though.”

“Aw, I’m sure it’ll be fine. Hey, don’t forget my napkin!”

Noie headed to the back, which was a small tiled room with an asphyxiatingly-strong stench of various spices. Even after a week she still hadn’t gotten used to it; her eyes watered a tiny bit as she headed to the tiny soda fridge in the corner of the room.

“Somebody wants another soda?” A voice - Sara stepped out from behind a column of spices. “They know there’s a restaurant right next to us, right?”

“Yeah, I don’t think he’s here for a drink.” She tossed the napkin at her. “Check out what he passed me.”

Noie opened the fridge and picked a soda out. She heard a sniggering from behind her.

“Why did he…” Sara snorted. “Why did he write ‘King John winky face’ on it?”

“Oh my god, did he? I didn’t even look at it.”

“Yeah, look at it there. He sounds like a real catch.” She shook her head. “You want me to go out there? I can always chase off a creepy guy.”

“Nah, it’s fine. Thanks, though.” Noie heard the front door jingle. “Oh, sweet, new people!”

“Now you can tell him there’s a line.”

“Hah! Did you read my mind?” She winked at Sara as she opened the door. “Seeya.”

“Silver!”

Noie recognised the group strolling into the shop - and especially the woman in pyjamas making hre way to the counter. “Bea! Isn’t it Magic 101 for Gus and Mina right now? I thought you guys were coming after that.”

“Hey,” The man glanced between them. “About my order-”

“What, you dreading us?” Bea winked at her. “Nah, there was - heh - a little accident in the labs.”

“Is everyone okay?”

“Yeah, yeah.” She stabbed a thumb back at Gus, who seemed to be missing his eyebrows. “You should get the story from ol’ fire fingers over there. I hear primary sources make the most engaging narratives.”

The man cleared his throat. “Excuse me-”

“Oh, I’ll ring your soda up for you, it’s five dollars.” Noie grinned at Bea. “Did he blow himself-”

“Five dollars?!”

“-up?”

“I’m not saying nothing! You’ll have to-”

“Excuse me kid, I’m still ordering!” The man shoved Bea a little back. “Hey, what’s the big idea? I could go down to the gas station and get this for a fifth of what I’m paying here! What kind of stupid fucking-”

Bea tapped his shoulder, and he stopped midsentence with a choking gasp. He grabbed his throat gasping for air, eyes bugging out, and started coughing up leaves and loose soil. She pushed him aside, and leaned an elbow on the counter.

“Okay, so what’ll we have today?” Bea slid the soda away. “Obviously not that - jeez, five dollars? Does anyone actually buy those?” A pause. “What?”

Noie was leaning over the counter with wide eyes. The man was on his hands and knees, making shallow gagging sounds. “Uh, Bea? Is he gonna be alright?!”

“Hmm? Oh, sorry about the mess. Shouldn’t have done that spell indoors.” She snapped her fingers, and everything dissolved into air. The man gave a gasp of relief, and curled up into a shuddering foetal position. “Now I’m the bad customer, right? There you go.”

“But is he gonna be okay?”

“Oh, yeah, it’s an old elven children’s prank. I don’t know why he’s being such a baby about it.” She nudged his leg. “Come on, man. I’ve seen elflings half your age take this better than you. Stop crying.”

As Noie watched, Sara came out of the back. She saw her peeking around the corner- as soon as she caught sight of Bea and the others, she came wandering out.

“Oh, hey guys! Hi Bea!”

“How’s it hanging.”

“You’re here early, right? Why do I feel like- oh my stars, Gus, your eyebrows! Your hair!”

Laughter erupted across the table, and Gus went red. Bea chuckled.

“Yeah, tell her the whole thing, dude!” Bea turned back to Noie. “Eh, I think we’ll all just have our usual. You know what that is, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, I got it.” Noie turned towards the brewing machines. “Alright, gimme a second…”

She got out a pot, and from behind her she heard the ongoing conversation.

“So what happened, dude? Did you blow yourself up?”

“I didn’t blow myself up-“

“Yeah, cause it was a candle spell.” There was a chuckle from Bea. “First time I’ve ever heard of a human hurting themselves on one of those.”

“No, no, okay, so I had my hands like this, okay! I was rubbing my forehead from all the Latin, and then suddenly my head feels really warm and Mina starts screaming that my hair’s on fire.”

“Your hair was on fire, dude. It looked like a campfire up there for a second.”

“Yeah, and then Mr Jasko grabbed me and basically threw me into the lab shower. How often does that water get cleaned, do you think? It smelled really bad.”

Noie poured the tea, and turned around as it brewed. She saw Gus rubbing at his eyebrows; Jess was patting his shoulder.

“Ughhhh… I look like a damn thumb.”

“No you don’t, dude. You still have… some of your hair.”

“Oh yeah, that’s great, that’s great. Some of my hair.” He ran a hand through it. “Shit, and I have a date this Friday! Do you think it’ll grow back by then?”

“I can grow things.” Bea gave a smile. “Hair is kinda like moss, right?”

“Oh no, you are not touching my hair, Bea. I know you too well.”

“Yeah, you do. But really, that sucks, man. I’m sorry for you.”

“Maybe I’ll just wear a hat,” Noie heard as she placed all the mugs onto a tray. “Hats are cool right? He’ll think it’s cool, right?”

Noie walked over. “I’m sure it’ll go fine, dude.” She carefully placed the tea right next to Gus’ book. “At least you gotta get a good grade on the fire spell thing, right?”

“Well, I didn’t exactly light a candle, did I.” He flipped his textbook to a certain page, and picked up his tea. “The lab’s probably gonna be redone anyway. I gotta study up for it.”

“Heh, don’t go saying it out loud again-”

“No. No, I won’t, Mina.”

Noie started going around the table, but Sara suddenly noticed her and jumped up. “Oh my gosh! Noie, I should’ve been helping! Let me do that!”

“Oh, it’s fine-”

She took the tray. “No, no, you made it, I’ll do the rest. Bea, were you paying?”

“Yeah, it’s my turn.” Bea turned around, digging in her pockets. There seemed to be a lull in conversation as everyone set up their books and magi-orbs; Noie found herself standing awkwardly behind Gus, looking down at his textbook.

Huh. She’d never actually looked inside a magic textbook before; it looked a lot like any other, with dense pages of information cut up by a few diagrams and headings - here, the headings seemed to be the spell incantations themselves, judging by the fact that they were in latin. There was one incantation next to a drawing of someone lighting a candle with their finger; that was probably the one Gus messed up on.

She frowned. How do you even pronounce Latin? She tried sounding it out in her head, flam-mul-a ex stud-

There was a shout. The next thing Noie knew she was on the floor, her hands twisted behind her back. She opened her mouth, but-

“D’arvit!” Bea’s voice was right next to her ear, louder and sterner than she’d ever heard. “The hell are you playing at, Naomi!”

“Wh-what-”

“Don’t let me ever see you trying that shit again! You know better!”

Noie blinked; she could hardly form words. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about! What did I do?”

“You don’t know?!” A pause. “You don’t know?”

“No!” Noie tried to move her arm, but it wouldn’t budge. “Agh, ugh, I think you’re twisting my wrist!”

There was a moment of silence, and then Bea let go of her completely. She pulled Noie up, and there was something strange in her eyes as she patted her down. She felt along Noie’s wrist, and Noie couldn’t help but notice the whole table had turned around to stare at them.

Noie shivered at that… shivered. She felt strangely cold, strangely drained. She opened her mouth, but nothing really came out.

Mina was the first one to speak. “Uh, Bea,” she started. “What was that about? What happened?”

Bea’s eyes flitted up to her, and then traced across the whole group. She let go of Noie’s arm, and after a moment, Noie could see her stretch a big smile across her face.

“What was that?” Bea asked, and then gave Noie a light shove. “Pranked! It was a prank! You should’ve seen your face, Silver!”

She gave a great laugh, but Noie could still see that glint in her eyes. She didn’t laugh back; no one did.

“Eh? Prank? Nobody up for some good ol’ horsing around?”

“Seriously? That, uh, wasn’t very funny, Bea.” Sara walked over to Noie. “I think you really freaked her out. You freaked me out.”

“Yeah, me too.” Gus frowned at her. “You really shouldn’t tackle someone like that. That hurts.”

“I see your point, I see your point.” Bea raised her hands. “Guess I don’t know my own strength. I won’t do it again… unless, like, hypothetically, you were standing next to some kind of bomb and I had to tackle you to save your life-”

“Dude. Just apologise.”

“Alright, I was getting to it!” She looked at Noie, and held out her hand. “Hey. I’m sorry I freaked you out.”

Noie glanced down at her hand. She gingerly took it. “Uh, no problem, Bea-”

We need to talk.

She froze at a clear voice in her head - Bea’s voice. Still smiling, the elf nodded once, and let go.

“Alright, glad we reached an understanding.” She dusted her hands off. “Now, what was I doing? Oh right, paying for junk! Sara, get over here!”

Sara put a hand on Noie’s shoulder - it was strangely warm, or maybe Noie was strangely cold. “Are you gonna be okay?” She asked. “You’re shivering.”

“Me? Um,” Noie gulped. “Y-yeah, I’ll be, I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me.”

“You should go stand out in the sun for a bit. I’ll cover for you.”

“Yeah, that… that sounds good. Thanks.”

Sara gave her a quick smile, a squeeze, and then headed off. Noie watched her go, then looked towards the front doors. She stumbled as she made her way over, and struggled a little to open them.

She stepped out into the sun, into the harsh rays beating down on her face, her shirt, her soul…

And still she shivered a little.

She needed… she needed to sit down. Wow.

_____________________________________________________________

The little study session ended much sooner than usual - only a little after the end of Noie’s shift. It was a bit awkward the whole time, with Gus touching his hair and Sara shooting daggers into the back of Bea’s head. For Noie it still felt like an eternity; she’d managed to warm up, but there was still a strange weakness in her knees, a sluggishness in her mind that was hard to shake.

It was strange. The looks Bea kept shooting her didn’t help either. What was going on?

“I think I’ll be heading out,” Gus said, closing his textbook. “Gonna go hat shopping.”

“Oh, if you’re heading out, I might too.”

“Yeah, it’s getting late.”

As everyone started packing up, Noie felt a hand on her shoulder.

“Hey,” Sara spoke quietly. “You, uh, want a ride home?”

Noie glanced over at Bea, who was ostensibly cleaning her magi-orb; somehow Noie still felt watched.

“Uh,” she started. “That’s okay, thank you. I think I’m gonna walk home - uh, with Bea.”

Sara frowned. “You sure?”

“Don’t worry,” Bea spoke without looking up. “I won’t tackle her again, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Noie gave a nervous laugh. “Yeah, it’s fine. It’s fine, Sara. Thanks.”

Sara didn’t look entirely convinced, but she hugged her goodbye and left the shop. The rest of the group filtered out shortly after, leaving only the two of them, sitting across from each other.

Bea didn’t immediately talk. Noie tapped her fingers a little on the desk; she made a face, and then opened her mouth.

“Bea-“

Bea stood up. “Walk with me, will you?”

“What?”

“Just follow me.” She reached out an arm. “Take my hand.”

“Why?”

“I wanna show you something.” She flashed a smile. “You’ll like it, I promise. Trust me on this, Silver.”

Noie hesitated… but after a moment, she did take her hand. Bea gently pulled her upright, and led her out the door. Immediately they turned into a back alley, and Noie frowned.

“Uh, where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

“Why are you being so weird about this?” She stumbled as they made their way down the edge of a parking lot. “What happened back there? And, uh, not to be rude, but did you do something to me? I feel kinda weird after you tackled me back there.”

“Hmm?” Bea suddenly turned and lead them through a dead bush. “Oh, yeah, sorry about that. It’ll go back to normal in the next few days.”

A twig slapped her in the face. “What? What’ll go back to normal?”

“Your, uh, magic.”

“Magic? What?” Noie could hardly see her through the greenery now. “Okay, where are we going, seriously? There’s got to be an easier way to-“

She stumbled out of the bushes, and blinked hard. Her eyes went wide.

“To…”

They were inside the biggest forest Noie had ever seen in her life. Old growth trees with trunks wider than a car towered way overhead, up into a canopy of leaves that caught all but little flickers of sunlight. Beneath her feet was suddenly ferns and mulch, and all around her were animal sounds - caws, chirps, cheeps, foliage cracking, woodpeckers hammering. This was… Noie looked to Bea, and found her grinning back.

“This…” she managed. “This isn’t Arizona.”

“Sure it is! Also it isn’t. Don’t worry about it.”

“Did you teleport us?”

“No, no.” Bea let go of her hand. “This is, uh… well, there isn’t really an English word for it - let’s call it the Elfscape!” She snorted. “Stars, the Elders can never catch me calling it that.”

“Elfscape? Like the Mindscape-”

“It’s complicated, it’s, uh… well, kinda, but it’s more physical than the Mindscape. Or maybe it’s the Earth’s Mindscape?” She shrugged. “Look, it’s complicated even for elves, I wouldn’t worry about it.”

“Oh, okay?”

“Also, uh, if you see anything between the trees, try not to stare at them.”

“What?” Noie followed her gaze, and saw a shadowy figure far in the distance. There was something eerily… angry, there - she could feel it like a pit in her stomach. She looked back at Bea. “Uh, what’s that?”

“Another elf. They’re probably fine - they just get a bit touchy about outsiders coming here.” Bea gave a laugh. “I’m gonna get an earful about it when I next visit for sure.”

Noie frowned. “Then, uh, why’d you bring me here?”

“Because you are gonna test something for me real quick.”

“Test something?”

“Yeah!” Bea touched her hand, and gently lifted it up. “Alright, that goes - yeah, there. And point for me; any finger’s fine. Yeah, that looks good!”

Noie found herself pointing straight forwards. She raised an eyebrow at Bea. “Uh, okay?”

“Now, I want you to say flammula ex studio.” A small flame appeared on Bea’s thumb; she winked when Noie’s eyes went wide. “Can you do that?”

“Are you trying to get me to do magic? I don’t think I can do that kinda stuff; don’t you have to really practice for it? And-“

“Just! Just indulge me for a second, Silver.” Bea stepped back. “Try it. Please?”

Noie made a face at her, then turned to look forwards again. She felt a little ridiculous standing here like this, but Bea shot her another smile and she sighed.

“Okay… fine. Fine. What do I have to say again?”

“Flammula ex studio. Whenever you’re ready.”

Noie grimaced. “Okay, here goes nothing. Flammula ex studio.”

She’d hardly finished the incantation when she felt a rush of heat. One moment she was standing there, the next all she could see was a great ball of fire coming out of her fingertip.

“Wha- oh, shit!” Noie jumped back and instinctively tried to shake it off. “Bea! Bea! Help, I’m on fire! I’m on-”

With a chuckle, Bea walked over and put a hand over the flames. They seemed to extinguish it, and Noie was left standing there, eyes wide, heart thudding in her chest. Distantly she could hear Bea laughing.

“Now that is what you call no flow control!” Bea patted her shoulder. “You really haven’t done magic before, huh? Wow!”

Noie gulped, and tried to steady her breathing. She forced herself to meet Bea’s eyes, and opened her mouth. “W-w-what was that? Why did th-that happen?”

“Why’d you think? Magic!”

“Magic?”

“You better believe it! Seems like you’ve got a bit more juice in your tank than the average human! A lot more juice, but of course,” Bea winked at her. “I already knew that.”

Noie blinked. “You did?”

“Course I did! Magic’s not subtle, Silver. It’s written all over you!” She patted her shoulder. “Honestly, the only thing I’m surprised by is that you didn’t know. Don’t human schools have those little magic exams in elementary school these days?”

“Magic exams?” Noie frowned. “I don’t remember those… but I was exempt from magic stuff as a kid. Dipper has magic sensitivity, so he-” She glanced at Bea. “Oh. That was, uh, his cover when we were growing up.”

“Huh, not a bad cover.” She rubbed her chin. “Well, that definitely clears it up, but that’s still nuts to me that you didn’t know. I guess that’s just me talking, though; I dunno what I’d do without magic.”

Noie laughed a bit at that, but the sound faded away quickly. She found herself looking down at her hands, rubbing her fingers. They still felt warm, and she frowned.

“Bea?”

“Yeah?”

“You said…” Noie clasped her hands against her chest. “You said I had more magic than most humans.”

“I did.” She chuckled. “Gus’d have a way worse day if he could do what you can.”

“But - how? Is it just… random chance? Do you know?”

“Do you know?”

Bea had that strange shine in her eyes again. Noie hesitated as she stepped a little closer.

“I’m asking you seriously.” Bea was studying her face; after a moment, she looked away. “You know, it’s a common joke that humans suck at magic, but you know why they do?”

“Why?”

“Cause of the Transcendence. Or at least, all that time leading up to the Transcendence, living in a world without magic. Y’know, elves were in their forests, mermaids were in the seas, all your city preters kept themselves under wraps.” Bea touched a budding leaf, and watched it open. “Magic follows magic, and for thousands of years, you guys just weren’t having much sent your way. Now you’re playing catch up.”

She looked at Noie with a knowing smile.

“So that leaves us two possibilities,” she said, and pushed off the tree. “Either you’re just a real lucky human - and that happens! - oooor, someone in your family was a little more in touch with their magic, if you know what I mean.”

“More in touch-” Noie started, and then she stopped dead. Oh.

Oh, she knew exactly where she got this from.

“Anyway, you don’t have to say anything. Just telling you what might be going on” She passed by Noie. “You wanna head home? I’m thinking I should probably take you back to your brother before he thinks I trapped you in an alternate dimension or something.”

“But- what do I do?”

Bea raised her eyebrows. “Do about what?”

“I-I nearly burned everyone back at the tea shop without even realising!” Noie stammered over her words. “What if that happens again? I was lucky you were there - I don’t know how to control that on my own!”

“Hey, don’t panic. Panic makes magic explode, I’ve heard.”

“Wh- that’s not funny, Bea!”

“I know, I know.” She chuckled to herself. “Couldn’t help myself, but, uh, if you’re asking for serious advice, I guess you could just make sure you never read anything that sounds like a spell again. Oh, also, since you don’t have to speak it out loud, try not to think too hard about that spell I taught you, flammula ex studio.” She gave a sly grin. “Yeah, don’t even think about flammula ex studio, don’t even think the words flammula ex studio, don’t-”

“Please stop.”

“Okay, or what you could do - and I think this is better - you could maybe learn some basic flow control so you stop going full blast on every random spell you see. It’s not hard to learn, I bet I could give you a handle on it in a couple hours.”

Noie just stared at her. Stared, as she reached out a hand.

“C’mon, Silver. Let’s get you home.”

After a moment, Noie took a deep breath, in, and out. She swallowed, and then she took Bea’s hand. Bea smiled, and then took them through a bush; they made their way through the greenery, through cool leaves brushing past her face, and then came out in the garden bordering Noie’s dorm. She looked behind her, and saw not a forest but a shrub and the corner of a building. There was a chuckle from Bea.

“Yeah, don’t tell the others about that little trick. They’ll be asking me for shortcuts until the end of time.”

“Hah, yeah-”

“Wait.” Bea held up a hand. “Do you hear that?”

“You!”

A shout. Someone was stomping over to them - someone with a suit, glowing eyes, and a shadow that sported wings. Noie blinked.

“Dipper?”

“You’re okay!” Dipper hugged her tight, then turned to Bea. “Okay, where’d you take her?”

“Back to her dorm, of course.”

“Don’t play games with me, mortal.” He stabbed a finger at her. “I just spent the past hour tearing through pocket dimensions to see where the hell my sister went. Where’d you take her?”

Noie patted his shoulder. “Dipper…”

“Nah, it’s okay, it’s a fair question.” Bea brushed his finger away. “It’s just a little hangout place for elves, it was totally fine.” She chuckled. “I’m glad that’s the part you noticed - you know, not the part where I totally broke her arm a tiny bit. I thought I was a dead girl walking there.”

“You did what?!”

“You broke my arm?”

“See? She didn’t even notice before I healed it, it was fine.”

Noie watched Dipper make several attempts to speak. He clenched his clawed fists - and then, with some effort, unclenched them, and pinched his forehead.

“You… make it very hard for me to like you, you know?”

“Aww, I try.” Bea winked at Noie. “Anyway, I oughtta be heating out.” She took a step away, and then clicked her fingers. “Oh, you know who else could totally help you with magic? Demon boy over here’s pretty good at it, I’ve heard.”

“Magic?” Dipper looked over at her. “You want to learn that? I could definitely help.”

Noie stared back.

“What?”

“You knew I could do magic too?”

“Yeah?” Dipper frowned at her. “I could always tell, why?”

There came a chuckle from Bea as she walked away. “Yeah, you two have fun now! Bye!”

_____________________________________________________________

“So, you had a bit of a day.”

“Tell me about it.” Noie unlocked her dorm’s door and collapsed into bed. “I can’t believe you knew this whole time. You didn’t think to mention it?”

“I mean, no!” Dipper closed the door; immediately he shed his human form, and floated close to her. “I’m sorry, I just - I didn’t think you were that into magic!”

“Yeah, and why wasn’t I into magic when I was a kid again?” She huffed as his face dropped. “No, that’s not a- you don’t have to feel bad about it, but that’s just the truth. I didn’t know about this because of your magic sensitivity.”

“Yeah…” Dipper looked down. “No, you’re right, you’re right.”

Silence hung there for a second. Noie rolled her eyes, and pulled him into bed.

“Hey!”

“Hey yourself.” She hugged him close. “Stop looking so sad; seriously, it’s fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I’m not really ‘into’ magic anyway; I was only annoyed because I’m not ‘into’ accidentally blowing myself up if I read some Latin.”

Dipper snorted at that, and she smiled. Stared up at the ceiling.

“Yeah…” she said. “It’s not important to me, you know? It’s not something I grew up with, or even knew that much about. Even if I had found out earlier… how much would it really matter, you know?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well…” Noie looked at him. “I know where it came from, you know?”

“From where?”

“You don’t know?”

Dipper stared blankly.

“From Pinni, of course.” Noie made a face. “From… my mother.”

“Your mother?” He sat up. “Oh, right, I remember now! She was a selkie, right?”

“Apparently.”

“Yeah, yeah, I see that now. I totally forgot you’re a half-selkie-”

“I’m not a half-selkie, you can’t be half selkie.” Noie cut in, and then stopped herself. “Sorry, it’s just- it's a hereditary enchantment, not a separate species. And I'm long past the age when they were supposed to do the skin thing and everything, so I'm not a selkie, I'm fully human."

Dipper was looking at her askance; suddenly Noie heard how that came off. Her cheeks flushed.

"Not that it'd be bad if I was! I'm not, like, ashamed of it or anything, but it doesn't affect me all that much!” She gave a shrug. “Seriously, I live in a desert. I've never been to the ocean in my life - heck, I don't even know how to swim. Why would I go around telling people 'ooh, did you know I'm half selkie?' That'd be so obnoxious."

Dipper didn’t say anything to that. She rose to her feet.

“It’s just - what do I know about any of this, right? What do I know about magic, about selkies - fuck, what do I even know about my own mom?” She gestured at him. “At least Leon left videos, right! At least you and David met him, right! But who the fuck is Pinni? All I ever got was, I dunno, she’s nice? She’s shy?” An angry shrug. “Apparently she came from the ocean, whatever the fuck that means, so it sounds like I’d have a hell of a time tracking down any family on that side!”

“Noie?”

“It’s just - I’m fine that I never met these people, okay? They’re literally strangers to me, I don’t know why people expect me to feel devastated about them or something.” She stared at her hands. “I guess I just… that everything could’ve been so different, you know?”

A pause. Dipper said nothing, and she sighed.

“I could’ve known about magic. I could’ve actually met my parents. I could’ve been a fucking selkie - how weird is that?”

She chuckled, but then she looked back at Dipper. He had tears in his eyes, and she watched him hang his head.

“You could’ve,” he said, softly. “I’m sorry, Noie. If it weren’t for me, you could’ve had so, so much better-”

“No!”

Dipper glanced up sharply. She ran back to his side.

“Dipper, that’s - that’s not what I mean!” She put a hand on his shoulder. “You know, I think about how stuff could’ve been, a-and it scares me! I don’t want that!”

“What do you mean? You deserved so much better, you deserved to know your parents-”

“And if I had them, I would never have had you!” Noie snapped. She put her arms around him. “I don’t care if it would’ve been better. I don’t want to imagine myself in a timeline where you aren’t my brother, okay?”

Dipper hugged her back - lightly for a moment, but then he squeezed.

“And there’s… it feels like if just one thing had changed, I would never have known you at all, and I hate that… you know?”

There was a thick chuckle. “Oh, you might have known me. You’re still a Mizar, after all.”

“But you wouldn’t have been my brother.” Noie hugged him tighter. “And I’m so glad you are. I’m so glad. I love you, Dipper.”

She heard him say something like “I love you too”, but it was too shakey to make out, and when he buried his face in her shoulder, she felt wet tears on her shirt. She smiled at that, at his wings enveloping her, and just held him for a long, long time.

It was a warm kind of quiet. Neither of them quite let go, but eventually Noie shifted her leg, and Dipper pulled back a little to wipe his eyes. They looked at each other, and laughed a little.

“We’re a pair, aren’t we?” She said, and Dipper gave a chuckle.

“We are, we are…” He cleared his throat. “So, uh, I take it you aren’t up for magic lessons?”

“Huh? Oh, no…. Bea was right, I probably should learn the basics.” She brushed some hair out of her eyes. “You know, just so I don’t go blowing myself up accidentally.”

“Yeah.”

“After that… I dunno, maybe it’ll be fun? We’ll see how it goes.”

“I liked learning magic.” Dipper said. “Of course, my magic’s kind of… different from yours, but I think you’ll like it.”

“What, I won’t be making demon deals? Darn.”

“Oh, very funny.”

“I’m hilarious,” Noie said, and lay back down in her bed. Looked out her window, at the setting sun. After a moment, Dipper laid down next to her, and that warm silence descended on both of them again.

Words were needed no more. They held each other like that as Noie’s eyes drooped, as she drifted peacefully to sleep in her brother’s arms.

#transcendence au #naomi argenta #toothwrites #Noie's Brother #magic #worldbuilding

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twokinkybeans · 3 years

Text

Touch Me, Please [Starker Fic] Pt.3

Summary: Tony Stark has never told anyone that he’s still a virgin. He doesn’t want to sleep with people who only want him because of his outward persona. So instead, he hires an escort. Things get a little more heated than either of them had expected. Tags/Warnings: Escort!Peter, Virgin!Tony, nff, nsfw, sexual tension, teasing, Peter is 22, Tony is 53, oral sex, 69. Taglist: @starkerswonderland @staticwhispersinthedark @starkerprince @parkers-stark @bluestarker (let me know if you want to be added!)

Notes: I CAN'T BELIEVE IT'S BEEN 2 MONTHS SINCE I POSTED FOR THIS I'M SO SORRY ABOUT THE WAIT Y'ALL!!! I come bearing good news though! This was supposed to have three parts, but the plot started living its own life and now we're definitely having a fourth part as well ehehehe. Hope y'all enjoy! -Kim

Read the fic here on AO3

Or click here to find the previous chapters: Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Peter knows he’s fucked. Absolutely, terribly, fucked.

And to be honest… Even that’s an understatement.

Peter clutches his coat tighter and fastens his pace. He’s snuck out of the enormous labyrinth that’s Tony’s home, and is now on his way to the bureau’s HQ. It’s still early in the morning, a little over 7 am, and Peter hopes to catch one of his managers before they start their meeting.

Peter made a grave mistake, and all he can do is spill it all out and pray that he can keep his job. He’s had unsafe sex with a customer. If there’s one thing that he should pay close attention to, it’s that. He never made a mistake like this before. However, with Tony, he completely threw his cool and composed sugar baby persona out the door; his mind lost to the wealthy man he only met last night. Tony may claim to be a virgin, which according to his eager yet sloppy techniques isn’t too hard to believe, but still. Peter shouldn’t have risked it.

He eyes the building in front of him and hesitates. He could just get a test done without his bosses knowing; play sick until he gets the results. But if they were to find out… He’d lose his job for sure. And contrary to popular belief, he’s not in the industry just for the money. He likes his career.

In good faith, Peter steps forward and presses the doorbell.

Tony wakes up when a golden glow casts over his body. He smiles groggily. In his haze last night, he must’ve forgotten to close the curtains. He sighs and turns around, grabbing the sheets to tug them up a little higher. Slowly, the surroundings are getting to him. The distant sound of traffic rushing through the busy streets of NYC. The buzz of the elevator as it sweeps past his floor...

...and the complete lack of another human’s breath.

Tony swallows and his eyes flutter open. A harsh sting rips through his chest when he sees his bed is indeed empty. “Peter?” He calls out, half-heartedly expecting an answer but not at all surprised when it stays dead silent.

It’s safe to say that the following days, Tony is in such a sour mood that his employees nearly cringe each time he walks across the room. He should’ve never hired an escort to have his first-ever sexual encounter with. The plan was destined to fail from the get-go, and it had.

“Tony?”

Tony turns around to find Pepper standing in the doorway of his private office. Pepper has been his personal assistant for years now, and he is aware that he wouldn’t survive a single day without her skills in his company. She’s seen his worst more often than not - and she doesn’t deserve to be the one to take his anger - but Tony can’t help but glare. “What?” “Jeez, they were right. You’re a fucking asshole today.” Pepper says calmly and raises her eyebrows as she closes the door behind her. Tony can feel some of the tension fade from his posture and he casts his eyes down.

“What happened?” She proceeds to ask. Tony shrugs. How could he tell her? “I did something stupid.” “I figured as much.” The PA places a stack of files onto his desk and sits down in the chair opposite of him. “Personal troubles, or Stark Industries-related?” “Personal.” “Ah, good. That’s one less of a worry.”

Tony glares again, but this time it’s more playful. Pepper smirks. “Gotcha,” she hums, seemingly pleased with herself. “Now, tell me what happened.” “I can’t.” “I’m sure you can, it’s-” “It’s too embarrassing, Pep. Please, I gotta deal with this by myself.” Pepper raises her eyebrow at his words and leans onto the wooden surface. “Then deal with it before you drag Stark Industries into whatever it is.” She shoves the stack of paper forward and smiles faintly. “After you deal with these, of course.”

“Of course.”

It’s late in the evening, and Tony swirls the whiskey around in his glass. He finished the work right before dinnertime and decided to take the rest of the night off.

Deal with it.

Tony snorts. How could he? Peter left. It’s plain and simple that the kid didn’t want to stay. His pretty, sweet words had been nothing but lies and deception, and Tony feels like a goddamn fool for falling for the act. Peter is an escort. Pleasing people, telling them what they want to hear, it’s his job. Tony can’t blame him. He only blames himself.

Yet, it doesn’t keep him from grabbing his phone and navigating towards the escort website. He sniffs once, finding his way to the catalog. It should be easy to find Peter. Right? Tony scrolls down the list and frowns when he hits the bottom of the page. Mmh. He scrolls back up and sits a little more upright when he can’t seem to find Peter’s picture. He taps the search bar and types in his name.

No results found.

In a wave of panic, Tony types out the bureau’s number to contact them and waits anxiously. He has no intention of bothering Peter ever again, but now that it seems he vanished, it makes him feel strangely panicked. As if every link he had to the boy is simply gone. As if nothing ever happened.

Except something did happen.

“Good evening, this is Eva. How may I help you?” “Uhmm- Hi. It’s Mr. Stark. I’m, eh, I’m looking to book Peter again? He was here last night?” “Oh, I’m terribly sorry to inform you, sir, but I’m afraid Peter is temporarily unavailable. I could put you on the waiting list for when he returns?” “Please.”

And like a stupid idiot, he disconnects straight after. He sniffs and lowers his phone. He wonders if he just made another mistake.

Peter sucks at his teeth, his foot restlessly tapping onto the floor. He looks at his scheduled bookings and stares at the one empty spot. There’s only one client left to call, but Peter doesn’t know if he should. After a long tirade, and thankfully, a negative STD test, he’s back in the game and good to go. But, if he couldn’t keep himself together last time… He’s not sure if it’d be professional to go back to Tony.

Sweet, innocent, handsome Tony.

“Hey,” Harley pokes his head past Peter’s shoulder and grins. “I see you’re free tonight. My pal Dave is throwing a party at the Frizzles. Wanna come?” Peter rolls his eyes at his coworker and grins. “And get Dave to hopelessly flirt with me again? No, thank you.” “Oh, come on!” Harley throws his hands into the air in desperation. “Dave is your type!” “He’s not,” Peter grumbles, nearly shuddering at the idea. “Good fella, but no, not for me. Y’know I’m into rich old classy dudes. Heck, so are you!” “Hey, no need to attack me.” Harley lowers his bum on the edge of Peter’s desk and cocks his head. “You barely ever have a night off. Don’t you wanna have some fun? I’ll try and keep Dave off your back.” “Well…” Peter sighs and stares back at the empty spot in his schedule.

“I actually have a client.” “What do you mean?” “It’s the last free spot, and I have one more client to secure a booking with me. I just…” Harley frowns, his face displaying a sudden seriousness. “Peter, did this client hurt you?” “What? No!” “Then why are you looking all gloomy at the mere thought of that one client? Is he- Did he force you to not use protection? Peter, we can have him blacklisted, and-” “It’s not at all like that, please Harls, I promise.” “Then tell me why the fuck you’re so strange about it. You’re never strange around clients. Fuck ‘em, get them hooked for more and tadaa, that’s a healthy clientele, it’s how you taught me.”

Peter groans out loud in frustration and shoves his chair back a little, trying to distance himself from the scribbled down phone number at his desk. “I like him!” “What?” “I… I like him. Dammit. He’s really fucking different than the rest of them. I’ve only slept with him once, but he’s got me hooked, not the other way around.” “Then why’d he call us again? Eva told me he sounded pretty nervous.”

Peter’s face loses all color when Harley’s words crash down on him, crumbling the reality he’d build around himself. “No, no Harley, don’t enable me on this one. It’s bad luck. I shouldn’t do it.” Peter scrunches his nose. “Tell Dave I’ll be at the party.”

Harley simply grins, his eyes glimmering mischievously as if there’s something only he knows and Peter doesn’t. “Sure thing.”

It’s been two weeks since the damned party. Peter doesn’t feel any better about himself. As expected, Dave had followed him around all evening. Harley, traitor he is, was nowhere to be found. In the end, Peter couldn’t take it anymore, and he straight up told Dave he wasn’t interested. Thank god the lad took it pretty well, but it doesn’t make Peter feel any less shitty about it.

Peter really should just focus on his job and put his mind away from both Dave and Tony. It’s for the best. He sighs and stares at the next appointment on his list. The name is hidden, a feature they have for clients who are high in on their privacy. Peter sighs and grabs his car keys to go to the appointment.

Tony’s tapping his foot anxiously while he tries not to stare at the elevator. It’s needless to say he’s not doing a very good job at doing so. Peter’s going to be here again. Oh, God. Tony can’t shake the feeling that maybe he shouldn’t have accepted the booking when Peter’s coworker called him.

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dreamerwitches · 3 years

Text

Manga reviews!

I’ve read quite a few of the Madoka Magica manga, mostly to find witches.... So I thought I’d do a little review of the ones I’ve read! Enjoy! (also, they’re my own opinions and it’s meant to be a little funny so I exaggerate a little... so please don’t get angry!! Also kinda spoiler-y)

Madoka Magica (og manga)

Just a really compressed version of the anime. Has some changes but not often good... I only have the first one in physical and I think it’s the only one I’ll get cause it’s the most interesting part. 0/10 cause they completely removed Gisela... Also not too fond of the art style, some things are drawn really badly.. Though I’ve fallen in love with manga Gertrud. Not too fond of it but I like having the manga on my shelf. 4/10 watch the anime instead

Madoka Magica Rebellion

Will be biased cause I love rebellion. A really lovely manga, better than the og manga cause it doesn’t compress the story and even expands it. Suits three volumes better than the original. Treats familiars really well, we get bonus bartels, dora and polina~~! Doesn’t have all the fun of the movie cause it obviously doesn’t have the amazing soundtrack but it’s a really nice manga anyway. Bebe is drawn really well but the Clara Dolls aren’t. 9/10 almost as good as the movie

Kazumi Magica

Plot: seven magical girls trying to do good stuff and Kazumi, the protag, has amnesia I was surprised how much I loved this manga... I enjoyed it so much and got attached to almost all the characters. Though, spoilers, all my favourites either died or turned out to be evil... Lots of plot twists. LOTS. A wonderful lack of kyubey too... I found the story to be so intriguing. It took a spin on the original series far better than - imo - Oriko did. Really ace witches too. Only downside was sometimes the art. Too many ass shots thanks. Also a lot of the magi outfits were a tad distasteful (and some distasteful jokes too). 8/10 pretty darn good

Oriko Magica

Plot: two girls want to kill Madoka cause they know about Homu’s shenanigans. Has a pretty out there story, gets quite serious at the end. First time reading I didn’t care about it but I’ve grown fond of some of the main characters like Oriko, Kirika and Yuma. I found Kirika annoying and op first time reading. The addition of the original Madoka characters feels weird even though they are in the same universe. Original characters are also sometimes unrecognisable because of the art style. I almost never recognised Kyoko... The bonus stories are really fun, I liked them a lot. They’re short but nice. New and interesting witches too! I probably preferred Extra and Sadness prayer to the original story (Sadness prayer is like, basically a retelling of the og Oriko story but better) 6/10 for main story (feels a bit like babies first fanfic), side stories are probably a 7/10 (writer probs had more experience)

The Different Story

Plot: Mami and Kyoko backstory plus a spin on the original story. A really fun and interesting read, especially if you like Mami or Kyoko a lot. I loved the expansion of the original characters, it’s really great. I got a bit lost at the end but I was kinda scanning through... Art is by the same artist as the original manga but it’s certainly improved. Really amazing witches too~! Read it again when I got volume 1 for Chrimbo and its far sadder than I remembered... hm. Lovely art though, and very powerful scenes 7 or 8/10. I’d need to read it in full again to give a better judgement

Suzune Magica

Plot: Very edgy, lots of die. Never got attached to Suzune like I did with the Oriko characters. Some costume designs are also gross and pervy. Didn’t find it memorable and didn’t care much about the characters. Nice witches though. 3/10

Haven’t read Tart magica and don’t have any opinions on it yet. Hate the artist so I don’t think I will ever read it. (witches also look like afterthoughts... boooo)

Wraith Arc

Gave it a scan aaannndd.... didn’t enjoy it...... found it so boring. Wraiths are so boring as the enemy. Bland and have no character or inu curry flair. I feel you’d really enjoy it if you adored Homura and Madoka. I don’t so... I don’t think my opinion would be justified for this one.

Homura’s Revenge

Plot: Homura, Madoka and Kyubey go back in time before Madoka turns God. I. HATED. This one. Sigh.. It was the most frustrating manga I’ve ever read. Kyubey just gets in the way and not in a funny or clever way. Kills off Mami too early too. The witch designs are also crap like the artist don’t care about them. Illustrated by the same artist as Tart Magica and they’re a creep so it’s an automatic ‘euch’. Homura just resets in the end anyway. Just like Wraith Arc, I feel you’d like it more if you really liked Homura and Madoka 1/10 I liked the part with Elly and that’s it

The Veranda of Madoka

Plot: All five girls are living in the same house as sisters. Spoilers, this is my favourite manga... it’s so so cute and lovely! It’s a 4Koma (four square panels for a joke/story but sometimes has longer stories) manga with cute humour and fun stories. You really care about the girls and want them to be happy together. I’ve only read volume 1 cause it’s the only one translated but I really wanna read the rest cause it seems to add Nagisa. Only downsides are it has some tasteless jokes like breast sizes and Homura’s sometimes kinda pervy towards Madoka (remember, they are sisters in this one) but those things are rare in the long run. Has lesbian Hitomi which increases the score tenfold. The art style is also adorable, I prefer it to PAPA’s current style honestly. 9.5/10 would be 10 if it didn’t have some questionable jokes sometimes

Mitakihara Anti Materials

Plot: Homura accidentally winds up living with Mami. I thought I was gonna hate this one. Turns out I love this one. If you ship Homura and Mami, it’s the best, but it also works well for a platonic friendship. It’s a lovely slice of life with lots of fluffy bits with Homu and Mami but also the other girls. Sayaka also for some reason has the super hots for Mami (I mean, who wouldn’t). Sadly, has some tasteless jokes like Veranda which bring it down. Taking pictures of people against their will and body-swapping, I just wasn’t into it... Art is pretty generic but works just fine. 8/10

Mami Tomoe’s everyday life

Plot: The girls are older. Excuse me while I vomit. Read a few pages and quickly ran. CLEARLY written by a perverted old man. The girls are all married and only talk about husbands and their weight and things men think women talk about. Also. Homura is married to Tatsuya, excuse me while I hurl again. Just look at the covers and you can tell the artist is a porn artist. -10/10 kill it

Welcome to Cafe Grief Seed

Plot: The girls work at a cake cafe. I um, love this one, it’s so soft and wonderful. The art style is so adorable, I’ve shamelessly stolen it for some of my art cause I love it that much. It’s a sweet mix of Sailor Moon and Ghibli. The pages are laid out like 4Koma but like Veranda, they often have longer stories. The take on the witches are really fun and imaginative too (they’re simply problematic customers). A really nice and harmless read (no pervy jokes, thanks). 9/10 wish it was longer and the artist seems to have not done anything else...

Pomu Magi

Plot: Homura is tiny and chibi for some reason. Reeeaalllyy didn’t gel with this one. Seems kinda like someone’s fetish... Just felt weird, I stopped reading quickly. Not disgusting like Everyday Life but made me feel uncomfortable. 0/10

Mahou Shoujobu

Plot: the girls make a magical girl club in a school shared with witches. Although it apparently involved witches it barely included them. LIES. Disappointed, Homura was also really weird too. 1/10 got to see witches but they weren’t portrayed well

Homura Tamura

Plot: take a look at lots of different timelines. I liked this one but damn it was all over the place. Every chapter is a different wacky timeline, and I mean wacky. A world where Mami rules and everyone wears hair drills, a world where Sayaka drives an Oktavia mech. Wacky. Kinda hard to follow first time through. But funny and quite charming. Made me laugh out loud sometimes. On a re-read for images I enjoyed it just as much as the first time, even more. 8/10 good if you like humour and silly jokes

#madoka magica manga #madoka magica #puella magi madoka magica #manga #kazumi magica #puella magi kazumi magica #oriko magica #puella magi oriko magica #tart magica #puella magi tart magica #puella magi suzune magica #suzune magica

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thebonerpit · 3 years

Text

plug me in and flip some switches [fic]

plug me in and flip some switches

Starker, 4687 words, [E], Android AU, read on Ao3 here!

A Starker Android AU/kinda-sorta Detroit: Become Human AU. Stark Industries is making androids, but somehow CyberLife has cornered the market on sex-bots. Tony decides to do some hands-on research and meets Peter, an android who is experiencing some very troubling malfunctions.

This is VERY loosely based on the D:BH world but it's mostly just a regular android AU and can be read as such. The only thing you need to know is androids have circular LEDs on their temples but otherwise look completely human.

It’s research. Pure and simple. Nothing else.

Tony repeats it like a mantra in his head as he steps through the front door of the club.

For years now he’s been competing with Kamski over at CyberLife, producing better and better android models and other technological marvels. CyberLife and Stark Industries models are commonplace now around the city, life-like bots that can do anything from mow your lawn to suck your dick.

The dick-sucking is why Tony is here, really.

As much as he hates to admit it, Kamski has the sex-bot market cornered. Tony can’t figure it out. His models are gorgeous, his patented StarkSkin is more realistic than anything that hack has come up with so far but somehow sales are pathetic next to CyberLife’s numbers. So… research. Covert research.

He’s not naïve enough to think some shoddy disguise will prevent him from being spotted, but the little device in his pocket that’s currently scrambling all the camera feeds will certainly help. He hands over his identification card to the android by the door.

“Thank you, Mr. Rhodes. Enjoy your visit.”

Yeah, about that… sorry Rhodey. Tony resolves to buy him a nice steak dinner to make up for it.

The club is clean, but tacky, at least in his opinion. Blue and purple lights give the place a strange glow and all the furniture looks expensive but uncomfortable. There are various models walking around and dancing on small stages, clothed but just barely, and a handful of human “customers” admiring the goods. He already feels like he needs a shower.

“Welcome to the Eden Club,” the android at the front desk says, her voice soothing and calm. “Would you prefer to browse our models on the floor, or in our catalogue?”

Tony isn’t particularly fond of wandering around the club aimlessly, especially with other patrons there, so he points at the screen being projected in front of him.

“Wonderful. Do you have a preference for gender?”

He shakes his head and waits to see if there’s any reaction from the android. She simply taps a few keys and the catalogue appears in front of him.

“You’ll find all of our models here. When you have selected one, press the blue button underneath their picture.”

Tony almost wants to ask her to just choose for him. It would make this whole thing less... deliberate. He glances quickly behind him to ensure no one else is there before looking through the first few pictures. A Steve model, with a gentle smile and wholesome good looks. A Natasha, who looks like she could probably kill him with a flick of her wrist. He swallows thickly and files that one away to come back to. A Bucky, a huge man with beautiful long hair and sad eyes. A Wanda, young but intense. As he swipes through the next few pages, none of them really stand out to him. What’s so damn special about these bots? He considers going back to the Natasha when he stops on one of the last photographs.

A Peter model. Tony has seen a few of the others throughout the city, but this one is new. Small and lithe, twinky, but well-muscled. The model rotates on the screen and Tony nearly chokes as his eyes fixate on what can only be described as an absolutely perfect ass encased in tight black boxer-briefs. But the face… jesus. Soft-looking waves of hair frame a gentle and innocent expression, slightly chubby cheeks contrast with a sharp little nose and jawline, and big brown eyes make him look even more frighteningly human than the others.

He presses the blue button before he realizes what he’s doing.

“Excellent choice, Mr. Rhodes. Please follow me and I’ll take you to your private room.”

The android leads him down a long hallway lined with closed doors. Tony can’t hear any noises coming from within so he assumes there must be sound-proofing on all the rooms. The main club was too crowded for these to all be empty. She stops near the end of the hall and gestures to a door with a green light beside the handle.

“He’s ready for you. You have one hour from the time you open the door. Please remember that any damage done to the unit will be charged to your account. Enjoy your evening.”

She walks away without a second glance.

Tony exhales sharply.

“Alright. I guess this is happening.”

He opens the door and all his blood immediately rushes downward. Peter is a vision. He’s wearing nothing but those skimpy black boxer-briefs and is curled up like a cat in the middle of a huge, round bed. The sheets are dark red and the contrast against his pale skin is absolutely gorgeous. He perks up as soon as Tony walks in, skin flushing a pretty pink as he lets his eyes drag slowly up and down Tony’s body.

“Hello,” Peter says. No, not “Peter”. It’s an android. A bot. And Tony is here for research. RESEARCH.

“Uh. Hi there.”

His legs unfold gracefully as he slips off the edge of the bed to stand and extends a hand to Tony. He smiles, and Tony’s heart clenches.

“Come sit with me.”

“Yeah. Sure, I can do that,” Tony says, wondering where his higher brain functions have gone. He takes the android’s hand and allows himself to be led over to the bed where they both sit. Peter doesn’t relinquish his gentle grip, and his palm is soft and warm against Tony’s.

“Is this your first time?”

Tony snorts. “What? No! I’ve… oh, you mean here?”

Peter nods, still smiling.

“Then yeah I guess so. Like a virgin, huh?”

The android laughs softly but Tony is sure he’s just programmed to do that. Adding in knowledge of Madonna’s entire back catalogue seems like a waste of processing space.

“What would you like to start with, Mr. Rhodes?”

Oh. Right.

“Well, first of all you can call me Tony.”

The boy – BOT – frowns slightly. “I apologize, that wasn’t the name I was—”

“It’s ok,” Tony says with a wave of his hand, “it’s a… nickname. I just like it better than James. Or Mr. Rhodes. Ugh, sounds so stuffy, doesn’t it? A boring name for a boring guy.”

The smile returns and Tony feels a brief squeeze of his hand.

“I’m sure you’re not boring at all, Tony.”

Ok yeah hearing his name in that sweet little voice is kind of doing it for him. But this has nothing to do with how the bot is built, this is Tony’s own weird perversion, so he powers through it.

“Listen, sweetheart, I’m not really here for the usual sex stuff ok? And… god, I can’t believe I’m about to apologize to an android, but I’m sorry in advance for what I need to do to you.”

Peter’s expression doesn’t change at all, which is slightly alarming. Tony expects him to be at least a little concerned about his well-being.

“I’m capable of taking anything you want to give me, Tony,” Peter says with that same sweet smile. “Nothing will shock me. Last week a man put his whole arm up my—”

“Ok! Ok, fuck, jesus, that’s… do not finish that sentence. And aren’t you supposed to like, not remember anything from your last clients? Seems like a real breach of privacy there.”

The frown returns and Tony hates the way it makes him feel.

“I… I’m so sorry, sir. My processor was damaged recently but I’ve run multiple diagnostics and though I should be in perfect working condition I seem to be malfunctioning. I’ll call another unit in for you.” The LED on the side of his head starts flashing but Tony grabs his arm.

“No!”

The flashing immediately ceases.

“No. Peter. It’s… you’re fine. Don’t worry about it ok? You’re great. Fantastic, even!”

“Ok?” He sounds unsure.

And then Tony realizes he has stumbled into the most perfect situation he could possibly be in.

“But if you’re worried, let me take a look.”

Peter’s eyes widened. “Oh, no, sir, I can’t allow you to do that.”

Tony smiles and reaches up to brush a stray curl off Peter’s forehead.

“Hey, it’s ok, I’m a fully licensed technician. Didn’t my profile mention…? Oh, right, it probably got all mixed up during the import just like my nickname. It isn’t your fault, Peter. But I can help.”

“It’s against club regulations,” Peter says. “Some parts of my body do open for customers who are interested in playing with my wires, but not the processor.”

“Playing with your--?”

“Fucking them. Inside. My stomach, for example, has a port. Our blue blood provides a non-toxic and natural lubricant.”

Tony is flabbergasted. He really shouldn’t be, he knows that humans are disgusting and will fuck anything they possibly can, but GOD. Maybe it’s the way Peter says it. So nonchalant, like explaining how a car motor works.

“Does that… how does that feel? For you, I mean?”

Peter bites his lip.

“I like it. It feels so good. Anything you want to do to me will feel good.”

“Of course it will,” Tony says with a sigh. His pleasure receptors must be maxed out. You could probably chop off his whole arm and he’d beg for more. “Listen kid, just let me—”

As soon as his finger gets close to the panel switch behind Peter’s ear an arm shoots up, lightning-fast, and grabs Tony’s wrist tight enough to bruise.

“Please don’t. I will call security if you try that again.”

Tony tries to wrench his arm free but it’s impossible. Fuck, he sometimes forgets how unassumingly strong these things are. Peter’s tone is serious but he still doesn’t look alarmed in any way.

“Ok, it’s alright, Peter, I won’t do it again. Now will you let go of me please?”

Peter blinks and his LED cycles to yellow for a moment before he snaps his hand back and quickly as he reached out before. Tony rubs at his wrist and raises an eyebrow at the red marks left by Peter’s fingers.

“I thought your program prevented you from harming a human? You’ve got quite a grip on you.”

Peter’s lower lip wobbled.

“I… I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Please, I… I’m so sorry…”

“Hey, hey, it’s ok, I was just kidding around, it’s not that bad, see?” Tony waggles his wrist around in front of Peter’s face but the android isn’t pacified.

“Please let me call another model for you, sir, he’ll look just like me, I promise!”

“And what happens to you, then?”

“I… I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”

“If I send you back and say you’re defective, what happens to you?”

“Oh. I’ll be destroyed, sir. Like I said, my processor was already damaged and the repair must not have worked. I’m a faulty model now.”

Peter actually looks upset, but he covers it well. Not well enough for Tony not to notice, of course, and the flash of red on his LED is even more telling. Androids are able to mimic human emotion but they can’t actually feel anything. However, for a brief moment, Peter seems to actually consider his own mortality.

“And you’re ok with this?”

“Of course,” he says, quickly snapping out of whatever errant deviation must have happened. “My purpose is to serve you, to pleasure you. If I can’t fulfil my purpose anymore, I should be taken out of commission so another more functional version can take my place.”

“Jesus,” Tony mutters. This is exactly why he never spends time with any of his own android creations. Sure, he’s fond of DUM-E and U but they’re very obviously machines and if he has to poke and prod and rebuild them he doesn’t feel particularly bad about it. But this…

“You know what? Forget all of this, ok? You still seem very capable of, uh, providing pleasure so… let’s just go with that.”

Peter lights up at Tony’s words.

“Really?”

“Yeah, sure. Why not?”

He can still examine some functions without poking around in Peter’s head. And hey, maybe he’ll get a decent orgasm out of this whole awkward experience.

Peter immediately slides into Tony’s lap, long legs spread on either side of his thighs, a small bulge visible through the front of his briefs.

“Please… tell me what you like, sir.”

Tony swallows thickly. “Well, the whole ‘sir’ thing is a good start.”

Peter looks up at him through his eyelashes and smiles.

“And that sweet little innocent thing you’ve got going on? Yeah, I like that a lot too, even though it makes me feel like an old pervert.”

Peter makes a soft cooing noise and leans in to nuzzle at Tony’s neck.

“You aren’t a pervert. I bet you like taking care of people, don’t you? Making them feel good? Teaching them?”

“Yeah,” Tony says, a bit breathless.

“I want you to teach me,” he whispers directly into Tony’s ear. It makes his whole body shudder and he grips Peter’s waist hard enough that a human would probably flinch away, but Peter just moans softly.

“I guess it’s kind of pointless asking what you like, hm? You probably like everything.”

The LED flashes red again, so quickly that Tony almost misses it. Tony grasps Peter’s chin gently in his hand to bring his face back up and then holds him in place.

“What do you like, Peter?”

“I… I—”

“Be honest, sweetheart.”

Another flash of red, longer this time.

“Eat me out. Please! It feels… it feels really good,” he says, his eyes a little wild, and Tony doesn’t think he’s ever been so turned on in his life. This feels like more than just a program spitting out what it wants Tony to hear. It feels like he means it.

“Fuck, yeah, I can definitely do that. Get on your hands and knees for me sweetheart, and lose the briefs.”

Peter scrambles to comply and Tony takes the opportunity to shed all his clothing as well.

When he turns around Peter is spread out like a feast on the dark sheets. His ass, as Tony has suspected, is actually perfect. Round, plump, and practically made for Tony to bury his face in. So he does just that.

Peter gasps as Tony licks all the way from his balls to the top of his crack, one slick wet line. His skin tastes like, well, skin, although Tony still smugly maintains that his design is better. Tony spreads Peter’s cheeks with his thumbs and groans at the perfect pink hole waiting for his tongue.

“God, sweetheart, look at you. So fucking gorgeous.”

“Please,” Peter whimpers, wiggling his hips impatiently which earns him a sharp smack on one cheek.

“Be good.”

Another whimper, and Tony can feel the heat rising off Peter’s body. He reaches down in between his legs to palm at his cock, hard and dripping, and Peter jerks back against him so abruptly it nearly knocks him off the bed.

“Whoa, easy there tiger,” Tony says with a chuckle.

“S-sorry, I… it’s a lot. Your touch, it just… feels so good. So much better than anything else I’ve felt before.”

It must be a line, something a programmer thought would be attractive. ‘You’re the only one who can make me feel this way’! Yeah right. But again, Peter sounds so genuine, so completely overwhelmed… Tony shakes his head. No wonder CyberLife’s sex-bots are top of the line if this is what they’re all like.

He holds him open again and leans back down to suck and lick at that perfect hole, working all the excess saliva inside with his tongue and one thumb until Peter is practically dripping wet. He’s whining again, pushing back against Tony’s tongue like he can’t get enough.

“T-Tony, sir, I… I’m gonna… I’m gonna come…”

“Mmm you can hold off, can’t you? Not even inside you yet.”

“I can’t, I—”

Tony spears him open on his tongue and sucks, hard, and Peter squeals as he shoots synthetic fluid all over the sheets. Tony is… shocked, quite frankly, because Peter actually looks shocked too. Like he can’t believe he lost control. Can androids even lose control? His LED flickers wildly between blue, yellow, and red which is very disconcerting.

“Peter…”

“I’m sorry, it just felt so good, I couldn’t stop, I couldn’t—”

“Shhhh, shhh, hey, calm down sweetheart, it’s ok. You did so well for me. Look how pretty you are, all flushed and pink, hm?”

“I… I’m pretty?”

“The prettiest.”

Peter considers this for a moment and then smiles shyly over his shoulder.

“I can go again, sir. As many times as you like.”

Tony smirks, and Peter gives him another hip wiggle which makes Tony bark out a short laugh.

“God. Can I keep you?”

“Only if you’re nice to me.”

“Who wouldn’t be nice to you, hm?”

“I… oh, I’m…” Peter’s brow furrows and he looks so confused. “Quentin. Quentin? His name… he hurt me. Asked them to turn on my pain receptors. I remember… why do I remember?”

Tony feels like he just got whiplash. One minute he’s hard as a rock and now he’s gathering a shaking boy in his arms and soothing him with soft kisses on his cheeks. What the hell is going on here? Why DOES he remember? All these bots should be wiped clean after every encounter. This is starting to become a very disturbing pattern. Fuck, Tony needs to see inside his head.

Peter’s LED was bright red for about a full minute but now it’s back to cool blue, and he sits up in Tony’s lap and bites his bottom lip.

“Can we keep going? I really want you to fuck me.”

Jesus. His heart can’t take much more of this. He knows it’s an absolute dick move but he thinks if he can distract Peter long enough, he might be able to get to his shutdown switch without getting his arm broken. This is going to be the only chance he has, because if he lets Peter walk out of this room he’s never going to see him again.

“We can definitely keep going sweetheart,” he says. “Want to see your face when I fuck you. Is that ok?”

Peter nods and slides out of Tony’s lap to arrange himself on the bed, letting his legs fall open. He’s still dripping wet and Tony’s dick twitches back to life as he watches him press two slender fingers inside himself.

“Please,” he begs, and god, how could anyone say no to those beautiful doe eyes staring up at them?

Tony knows that all of these bots are self-lubricating, and that you could fuck them without any prep whatsoever, but he still takes his time as he shuffles up in between Peter’s legs and presses the head of his cock against his hole. Peter opens for him beautifully, hot and wet and warm inside as Tony pushes in slowly. It feels frighteningly real – better than real – and Tony can see why there’s a population crisis on the horizon because everyone just wants to fuck androids instead of making babies with another human being. Right now he can’t really bring himself to care.

Peter whines and wraps his legs around Tony’s waist, pulling him in until he’s fully sheathed inside him.

“O-oh, Tony, feels… feels so good, so full,” he breathes. God, his legs are even shaking. Tony leans down and presses a biting kiss against the soft skin of his neck.

“Hang on, sweetheart,” he whispers, and pulls out almost all the way only to shove back inside with enough force to jostle Peter up the bed. His eyes snap open and his pretty pink mouth forms a perfect ‘o’ as Tony fucks him, hard. Listen, he’s not going to pretend like he’s ever been a slow and sensitive lover. He likes it rough and fast and Peter can take it so he gives him everything he’s got. There are fingers scrabbling at his shoulders, trying to pull him even closer, and Tony growls as he tightens his grip on Peter’s hip with one hand and his neck with the other.

“Gonna come inside you,” he says, already edging towards his orgasm, “gonna fill this sweet little ass up. You want that, hm? Tell me, Peter.”

“Want it, want it, oh please Tony, please! You feel—feel so good, wanna come with you!”

Tony’s struggling to hold on as he slides his finger up behind Peter’s ear in the guise of stroking his cheek and hair. He grips that silky hair tightly for a moment and Peter yelps. The distraction allows him to slide the panel open with his pinky, and the switch is right there.

Peter grabs his other hand a for a moment he thinks he’s been caught. His grip is like a vise and he clearly has something in mind as he brings Tony’s hand over to… oh, fuck. The port. The port on his stomach is open. Tony doesn’t know if he did it by accident when he opened the one behind his ear, or if Peter did it, but Peter’s forcing his fingers inside and whimpering and groaning and Tony is powerless to stop him, even if he wants to. He feels warm, as warm as he is where Tony is still thrusting inside, but Tony’s fingers are brushing against wires and tubes instead of soft skin. He plucks at the edge of a wire and Peter does a full-body shudder.

“Right there,” he croaks out. His voice modulator is kind of fucked up and keeps emitting this weird hissing noise that sounds like he’s gasping for breath.

The blue “blood” inside him is as slippery as lube and Tony struggles to grab the right wire again. The squelching noise of him digging around plus the wet slap of his hips is so filthy and it’s hitting every single one of his buttons. Finally he gets it and god, the noises that Peter makes… The option to buy a recording of your session seemed ludicrous up until this exact moment because fuck, he could jerk off to these noises over and over again. And yeah, maybe Peter wasn’t lying when he said this feels good for him because he’s writhing underneath Tony like he can barely handle the sensation.

“Yeah, come on sweetheart, come on, let me hear you,” Tony gasps, and nearly whites out as he topples over the edge and empties himself inside Peter, the simulated muscles squeezing and milking out every last drop. The sensation must hit Peter moments later because he seizes up so suddenly Tony worries he might have broken him.

Peter screams, his voice modulator crackling and cutting out as he comes, shaking and emitting a worrying amount of heat, and as soon as his cock spits out the last bit of fluid, Tony presses the switch.

He immediately goes limp. His arms flop back down on the bed and legs splay out at odd angles. His eyes are still wide open, and his lips are wet with Tony’s spit.

“Fuck,” Tony whispers. “Fuck!”

He pushes himself back, sliding out of Peter’s body with a filthy wet noise. If he wasn’t going soft already the picture before him would have killed his erection immediately. It looks like… fuck, it looks like he’s dead.

“Not dead,” Tony says to himself, “not human. Not human, so not dead. Pull it together!”

He only has 15 minutes left before his time is up and someone will undoubtedly come to investigate. If he’s going to do this, he has to work fast. He quickly pulls his briefs and pants back on, leaving the shirt for the time being, and unfolds the nanotech device he had hidden in his watch. It’s a rudimentary scanner with some tools, nothing too elaborate but the best thing he could sneak in. It also has a docking port to connect to the android’s processor for scanning and downloading.

Tony climbs back on the bed and sits beside Peter’s head. His eyes still stare blankly ahead and even though he knows it’s ridiculous, Tony reaches down and gently closes his eyelids.

“Sorry kid,” he says quietly. “I promise you won’t remember any of this. I promise you won’t remember me.”

He plugs a line into Peter’s processor and connects it to his device and watches as numbers and data stream through. At first it seems pretty normal, nothing too different from how Tony’s own line of androids are programmed. Peter’s pleasure receptors were turned up, as expected, but not to the level where he should have been reacting… like he did. Tony’s traitorous cock twitches at the memory of his moans when he pushed inside that open port. His fingers are still covered in blue slick and he wipes them on his pants, already feeling disgusted with himself.

He can see where Peter’s processor has been damaged and—

“My god,” Tony says, his eyes widening as he takes in what he’s actually looking at. Most androids – his and CyberLife’s alike – were really just fancy VIs. They had built-in programming and while they could learn certain things, like their owner’s personal preferences or their chosen name, they were still limited by whatever parameters were set. A maintenance bot wouldn’t know how to do a child-care bot’s job and vice-versa. But this… Peter… was different. His brain showed new pathways that weren’t created by his original program. Most were damaged, likely from being reset and overwritten countless times, but Tony could still see the evidence.

“No wonder you were all messed up, sweetheart,” Tony says quietly. “They lobotomized you.”

Granted, the staff at the Eden Club probably had no fucking clue what they were dealing with. They just saw a malfunctioning bot and did factory reset after factory reset while Peter was desperately trying to cling on to whatever he had previously learned.

It makes Tony’s stomach hurt.

He sits in silence and watches the data stream for a while, gently stroking Peter’s hair. It’s incredible. He’s incredible.

And then Tony makes a really, really stupid decision.

“I’m getting you out of here,” he states. In about 30 seconds he has a blueprint of the club up on his screen and Peter wrapped up in his shirt. He calls Happy and tells him to bring the car around the back and manages to hoist Peter up over his shoulder, groaning softly from the weight.

“You’re a lot heavier than you look, gorgeous,” he says, voice strained from the effort. A quick glance down the hallway shows he’s alone, and his scrambler should still be functional, so he darts out and makes a beeline for the storage room. He slips inside and closes the door softly behind him.

“Ok,” he whispers to himself, “there should be an exit right over…”

He nearly drops Peter right on his head but manages to catch him before he hits the ground, and then he freezes. The room is filled with androids. They’re lined up like mannequins, all staring blankly ahead. All of them look like Peter.

“Jesus. Fuck.”

They’re all powered down, but the visual of it is literally staggering.

“How many… how many of you are like him?” Tony asks aloud, as if he’s hoping some of them will answer, will follow him home too. But of course they don’t. And Tony doesn’t have time to check every single one to see if the same deviation is present. He squeezes tighter around Peter’s waist.

“If you’re in there, I’ll come back for you,” he says. “If I figure this out… WHEN I figure this out. I’ll come back.”

He feels like he owes it to Peter to make that promise.

A shout from down the hall makes him snap out of his stupor and he races to the exit. Happy is waiting with the car door open and he practically tosses Peter inside, yelling for Happy to step on it, and they’re gone before security even reaches the back door.

#starker #starker fic #tony x peter #tbpwrites #nff #android au #i would do more in this 'verse just to get in some more wireplay lol

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hypermanga · 4 years

Text

Of braids and jealousy (Thorin Oakenshield x reader)

Requested by: @queenofmankind

Request: Can I request a jealous Thorin Oakenshield please when he saw that the reader has allowed Kili to braid her hair because in the dwarves custom that is a display of intimacy & possession but the reader don’t know that because she’s human?

Word count: 1469

It was a particularly hot summer day as the Company of Thorin Oakenshield made its way to Erebor to retrieve the ancient dwarven kingdom from the claws of a northern dragon.

This would be something understandable if you were from Middle Earth, but this wasn't the way you wanted to spend your spring break: you'd been cleaning your dorm when you'd come across an old dusty book at the bottom of one of your cupboards. You recognized it as your aunt Talulah's birthday gift, which she had given you while she said: "Every book holds an adventure in it, just dare to enter it fully". As you'd turned the first page you had felt the world around you disappear as a black hole sucked you into the book.

Just your luck, you'd landed in a tree near what you would soon learn was called 'The Shire' , surprising the Company. It took you a while to reason to them and explain why you were wearing the clothes you wore, but thanks to Gandalf's gift of speech, you'd managed to land yourself a place in the group.

Since then you'd faced many dangers, noone your age may believe if told so. Not that everything was bad; the Company was a fun little group, and everyone had been really welcoming of you.

What you didn't count on is becoming emotionally attached to the dwarves, especially to the leader. Sure, he was much older than you, but he carried himself with a mixture of pride and nostalgia that drew you to him. More often than not you would drift off thinking what it would be like to become his queen, thoughts that you quickly shoved aside every time you noticed them because that was something proper for a fifteen-year-old full of foolish dreams.

Yet, who would have told your fifteen-year-old self that you would get sucked into a book?

~~~~

"Kili, could you help me with something?" The young dwarf had left the sausage he was cooking, sighing sadly as his brother stole it from him, and made his way to you "Tell me, and it shall be done" He crossed his arms proudly, making you chuckle "It's just, it's so hot in he-Don't you dare pull me an 'it's because I'm here' crap" At that he closed his mouth, earning a full laugh "I see that everyone had braids, and I was wondering if you could braid my hair to feel better, I fear I'm going to cut my hair with one of your swords if I don't do something about this" You had grabbed the ends of your hair, making puppy eyes to Kili, who got behind you and started to work. After a couple of minutes, your hair was tied in a beautiful braid, which surely would help you through the hot summery nights "Do women from your world not know how to do braids?" "Most of them do, but I was never interested in doing so"Shrugging, you stood up when Bilbo, Balin and Thorin returned from deciphering the map "Well, how did it go?" You asked the older dwarf, who grimaced "We need to reach the mountain before Durin's day, which is the end of summer" "Is it near?" "Far too near, we must-" Thorin's voice came to a halt once his eyes landed on you "We leave at morning" He cut his intervention short as he made his way past you "Did I do something?" You asked nobody in particular, as everyone busied themselves with packing.

You casted a glance at the Company's leader. He had been wearing a stern expression since Rivendell, probably because establishing relationships with elves wasn't something the dwarves enjoyed very much as you'd learned. That wasn't anything new, but he also had been actively avoiding you "Don't worry (Y/N), he's just wary of you as he is of me. We don't belong in here" Bilbo shrugged, not preoccupying himself of what Thorin thought of him.

But that was what worried you: you were lost in a world you thought was fictionary and in the middle of a quest which you needn't be part of, yet you had fought vigorously to save the Company from the trolls and were prepared for anything, and so this display of behaviour surprised you negatively.

As per our favourite dwarf king, he spent day and night thinking what he'd done wrong: everyone in the Company except for you and Bilbo picked up his display of affection, such as protecting you in case something happened as well as being caring despite his lack of trust to anyone outside his kin.

And still, Kili had won your heart. Perhaps it was a matter of age, as he wasn't one for pulling pranks or being 'fun', not with the task he carried on his hands.

Now, as he couldn't retract himself from his words or feelings, he opted for focusing on his mission and hope that you wouldn't be affectionate with Kili in front of him, and hoped his feelings for you would leave.

~~~~~~

One night, you decided you had enough.

"Thorin, may I have a word with you? Privately" He just nodded reluctantly, guiding you just after the treeline "Okay, so what's wrong with you and me?" Your tone surprised him, not expecting you to be so straightforward with your question. Nevertheless, he didn't bulge "Nothing" "C'mon, if I have to stay all night for you to spit it out I'm going to, is not my first sleepless night after all" You crossed your arms as you supported yourself with a nearby tree "I said nothing"

It was going to be a long night.

"So...Who wants to bet in which one gets down from his high horse?" "Lad, I think I will pass in this one...The lass has some if she goes toe to toe with Thorin" Dwalin smirked, lowkey hoping this would help his friend spill how he felt about you.

"...I fought to save your life!" Another string of shouts broke the silent night, as the Company tossed coins between themselves as the fight went on "So what! Nobody asked you to do so!" "I did because I wanted to, don't you understand? I'm in a world where everything is foreign to me...And you had been really friendly with me, what happened?"

Thorin couldn't bear to look at your eyes, his guilt too strong to prevent him from doing it "Who braided your hair?" That question completely threw you off "Wait-" Your tone stopped being pointed, yet your features remained like so "All this is because of the damn braid?" "Aye, because this dumbass right here didn't put his crap together to ask you out before Kili did" Dwalin came to view, tired of the back and forth "Kili did not ask me out!" "Then why did you let him braid your hair?!" Thorin pointed out your braid "Wow...Let me get this straight. Correct me if I'm wrong, but by letting Kili braid my hair I'm automatically 'dating' him?"

The two dwarves nodded as Dwalin calmed Thorin down from his outburst "First of all, what the heck is this? I only let him braid my hair because it was hot and don't know how to braid it myself; Second, this proofs tradition can lead to some serious misunderstandings; Third, Thorin were you going to ask me out?" Your face was red, from anger or embarrassment, only god knows "Aye, he was" Dwalin answered for the king, who looked just as baffled as you were "Is that true, Thorin?" "Didn't I tell you-" "I want to hear it from his lips, Dwalin" You interrupted the gruff dwarf, who just crossed his arms in exasperation "Thorin, I suggest you do so, nobody is going to be as stubborn as this lass...Or will put up with your pride" Thorin snickered at that, swallowing his pride "If you will still take me, an old man who becomes a dwarfling when musting up the courage to ask a pretty lass out-" You smiled, a tired but victorious one "Come here, you big oaf" You opened your arms, a gasp escaping your lips when Thorin lifted you "I'll leave you to it" Dwalin muttered, but you were in your own little world, with the background noise of groans and cheers -depending on their bets- of the Company's members.

Sure, there was a lot of communication and long hours of knowing eachother further -given your cultural backgrounds- to make it work, but not like every day you get to have a dwarf king as your boyfriend, right?

MASTERLIST

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

#the hobbit #the hobbit an unexpected journey #The Hobbit the desolation of smaug #the hobbit the battle of the five armies #Thorin Oakenshield #the hobbit thorin #the hobbit thorin oakenshield #thorin oakenshield imagine #thorin oakenshield one shot #thorin oakenshield x reader #the hobbit x reader #the hobbit imagine #the hobbit oneshot #richard armitage imagine #richard armitage x reader #richard armitage

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soulwillower · 4 years

Text

if you’re too shy • richie tozier

(richie tozier x cam girl!reader smut)

[based off the song if you’re too shy (let me know) by the 1975.]

requested: i can't find it lol BUT 🤍anon (i think) requested a fic based off of the 1975′s new song, if you’re too shy let me know !!

warnings: swearing, alcohol use, switch!richie kinda, smut, unprotected sex, a tiny bit of cumplay i guess, mentions of phone sex, oral sex (female receiving), face sitting, a bit of dirty talking, UNEDITED as always

also i wrote this in a different style than usual and idk if i like it much but u can let me know what u guys think,, if its weird i can go in and change the povs since its 3rd person richie

[losers + reader are 21+ in this.]

7.4k words lol

♡

i see her online all the time i'm trying not to stare down there while she talks about her tough time

"h-hey, man, who's that?" the voice from right next to richie makes him damn near leap out of his seat. it makes beverly chuckle a bit as she takes a bite of her apple, shaking her head. "it’s nobody." richie says quickly as he tilts his phone towards his chest and shoots a toothy grin to bill. his friend raises his full eyebrows, "wh-what, so n-nobody was sending you n-nudes?"

"something like that." richie mutters, stomach fluttering as the image flashes in his mind’s eye - the curves, the dark red lace, the plush skin painting a perfect scene in richie’s vivid imagination.

richie looks back down at the photo. his his thumbs hover over the profile picture; he'd found her originally on his instagram explore page, the photos teasing and immediately he had to know more. y/n.

and then a few days later, he'd subscribed to her only fans, which he never quite thought he'd do with anyone, but he couldn't help it. she was so enticing, so perfect and so alluring. it was the playfulness that pulled him in; and he swears he's never lusted after somebody like he has with her. it was kind of starting to freak him out.

"is that o-onlyfans?" bill says and richie shoves bill's nosy face off his shoulder with a panicked grunt. "fuck off, mushmouth."

bill laughs and stan and bev perk up from across the table, staring at the two, interests suddenly piqued. "did you subscribe to a girl's onlyfans, rich?" stan says with a grin, setting his pen down on his notebook.

richie just smirks and wiggles his brows a bit, enough to confirm his question. bill chuckles from next to richie.

"let me see." bev says, wiggling her manicured nails in a "gimme" motion. richie hands his phone over with red cheeks. normally he wouldn't care about his friends discovering he's paid money just to see a hot chick's bod, but this was different. for some reason, he felt connected to her. god, that thought made him want to slam his head against a brick wall. she doesn't even know him, for all he knows she could live in the middle of.... montana, or like, ohio.

bev whistles and stan nods, "if i looked like that," bev mumbles as she tosses richie's phone back towards him, "i'd do that too. mad props."

noises of agreement fill the table but richie's just looking at the small smirk that peeks from the corner of one of the photos and he can't help but wonder what her eyes are like in real life. he wishes he could meet her.

girl of your dreams, you know what i mean there's something 'bout her stare that makes you nervous and you say things that you don't mean

it's a cold day when bill and richie find themselves stumbling in to the coffee shop for a drink. bill's muttering about some girl in his creative writing class that gave him head when richie's eyes catch a figure so familiar yet foreign that he stops dead in his tracks. bill turns to him, face confused. "r-richie, what's wrong w-with you?"

richie shakes his head, stammering in disbelief, "that-that's her, bill. the girl, from onlyfans. y/n." he whispers, gesturing with his eyes towards the girl working the register.

bill’s jaw goes slack, green eyes raking over her form and igniting richie’s stomach with boiling rage. as if bill’s doing something that only richie is allowed to do – as if they're not both being total creeps.

“h-holy sh-shit. she’s b-beautiful.” bill mumbles. richie elbows him in the ribs, shooting him a glare that prompts an eye-roll from his auburn haired friend.

richie swallows and watches, his throat feeling like sandpaper as she laughs at something the customer in front of them said. bill nudges richie, "i-i'm gonna get a s-seat. t-talk to her."

he winks and grins as he walks away, leaving richie with his reckless self. he thinks he's sweating through his sweater as he walks up, finding himself face-to-face with her. "hi, how can i help you?" she asks, giving him a smile

holyshitholyshitholyshit.

he might've just came right then and there. okay, he's gotta say something cool, something smooth. don't be a dumbass, tozier.

"howdy, sugar. i'll have my coffee like i like my women." his mouth blurts as his brain sirens go off, PUT ON THE BRAKES, RICH – "a hot shock to the lap.”

she glares at him, cheeks light pink and eyebrows pulled together in annoyance and yep, richie's probably going to get hard because of that look but he's also probably going to toss his body off a bridge because what the fuck, tozier?

he can hear bill laughing quietly from a ways away and he quickly shakes his head, muttering quietly, "jail. jail, richard."

"funny." she deadpans, clearly not amused. because of course she isn't.

"sorry, i'll have a black coffee, y/n." he mutters, eyes widening to himself when he realizes she was not wearing a goddamn name tag and he just said her name.

this is a disaster. she gives him a bewildered, slightly creeped out look and if richie wasn't panicking, he'd gape at how she still managed to be effortlessly gorgeous even now.

he sighs, shaking his head, the door of the cafe opening and blowing a gust of frigid air through the warm room. fitting - douche chill.

"look, toots, i don't want this to be weird. i- um, i recognize you." he says, cheeks aflame. she raises a brow, face straight for a few moments, unsure what he means.

it's not long after when recognition flashes over her own face - must have ruled out coffee shop, university and her local gym - and she nods with a tight, almost uncomfortable smile.

he tries not to think of the livestream he watched last night where she showed all her new gifts and modeled lingerie, and how he’d spent his time to himself with his left hand immediately after watching. his cheeks are red with shame.

"okay." is all she says, writing down a scribbled order on the coffee cup. her eyes shoot back up and give richie a once-over that really makes his fingers itch - god, why did he have to be this way?

he almost runs his fingers through his curls but decides against it, eyes opting to focus on her own gorgeous eyes as they meet him. "i'm impressed i have a fan who looks like you, i must say. even if you are a complete jack ass." she purrs and his jaw nearly smacks the floor at its velocity as it flies open.

"what's that supposed to mean?" he asks then with a small grin, flattered at the tiniest of compliments that just barely, in his mind, eclipsed the insult that he so very much deserved.

"i'm saying you're kind of a dick. it's too bad, because you're real cute." she says casually, handing him his change. his stomach flips and butterflies release in his chest, a feeling that he's not felt in almost five years.

but damn, of course he messed up - he got the chance to talk to the hottest girl on earth and he started it by saying an awful joke that wasn't funny at all. of course she though he was a dick, he is one.

he's shocked, though, as he waits for his coffee with bill, who is still snickering into his hand every few moments, to find his coffee cup with extra sharpie scribbled on the white paper. a name.

y/n. and below it is a phone number with a small heart scribbled, and richie can't tell if it's a seven or a one but he figures he'd try every phone number in the damn state if it meant he could fucking text her. holy fuck.

"maybe i would like you better if you took off your clothes i'm not playing with you, baby i think that you should give it a go" she said, "maybe i would like you better if you took off your clothes i wanna see, and stop thinking if you're too shy, then let me too shy, then let me know"

he didn't text her for two days and three hours. yes, he counted it. no, he won't think about why he was obsessing over the numbers - but since the time he'd finally had found the courage to text her today, things have escalated proficiently.

she'd just mentioned how hot it was in her apartment since her heater had gone haywire - even though the winter winds were cold, she'd claimed she was burning up in what she was wearing.

and the mere mention of her clothing had sent richie into somewhat of a spiral, spending at least seven minutes glued to his phone and scrolling through the saved album he had of those photos of her that she'd posted; his sweatpants getting increasingly tight and his palm suddenly aching to slip through the fabric and find some release.

but, in true trashmouth fashion, he apparently needed that sweet, sweet rejection from a hot cam girl he'd somehow weaseled into getting the number of in order to wank off properly, so he types out a text and hits send immediately.

what are you wearing?

and then he almost vomits in embarrassment – what was she going to think? did he just royally fuck up? oh god, he’s going to have to shave his head and move to canada.

his phone buzzes and he nearly passes out when he lays his eyes upon the image attached – there her body is again, curvy and full and beautiful, her skin glowing in the fading light of what he assumes is her bedroom. and with it:

this. what are you wearing, rich?

and then he pulls his gaze from his phone and stands, breathing heavily because holy shit.

he's gotten nudes before, but.... none from someone like her. holy shit.

he walks to his bathroom, splashing water on his beet-red cheeks. he swallows, staring at himself in the mirror. fuck.

he slaps his cheek once, then winking at himself in attempt to muster any sliver of confidence. and then he snaps a picture, only in his boxers.

and then he has to physically refrain from making a joke about wearing the same lingerie set as her, instead sending a flirty text that he knows any other woman would blush at. he just doesn’t know with y/n, and maybe that’s why he loves it so much. she's keeping him on his toes.

you like what you see?

he sends that one afterwards, shaking his head because oh my god, she's going to respond with "no" and then bill him $40 for the nude she sent him. not that he wouldn't pay, but...

his phone dings and he nearly breaks an ankle running to his desk.

yeah, i do. but maybe i'd like you better without any clothes on.

he almost yells out loud at this, but he has a feeling that waking up stan in the middle of the night would not be optimal after their 'roommate agreement' they'd made that explicitly states richie cannot scream between 1am - 9am. so instead he smirks to himself, face turning red.

he's getting harder by the moment, and as he stares at that picture she'd sent earlier, he lets out a breathy groan. the lace....

we could face time yk

or we don't have to.

he reads her words in live time, watching the thought bubble appear again and watching it like a hawk. he can just imagine her sitting there with a small smirk as another text comes in and he almost groans as his dick twitches.

like, if you're too shy or something ;)

he stares at the screen for two seconds at that sinful photo she'd sent just before those texts and then sighs, shaking his head and pressing the green face-time call button.

i've been wearing nothing every time i call you and i'm starting to feel weird about it sometimes it's better if you think about it this time, i think i'm gonna drink through it

three days later, richie was undeniably and unequivocally drunk. but, as he's just explained about three times to mike, he knows that it is just easier to not think right, especially about her, right now - and the best way to do that is by getting so piss drunk that even if he tried to "hit her line," as he so eloquently put it, his dick would be too whiskey'd out to make a full appearance.

it's for the best. mike had fake gagged at richie’s cadence with a laugh, but richie was dead serious because he was starting to think he had a real issue.

it was obviously just a fun thing to do between two near-strangers, but he'd found that he was starting to almost pavlov-style condition himself into getting turned on every time the name y/n came across his recent texts or face times, and it was getting to be too much.

especially when her post notification popped up and he cracked a fatty in the middle of his econ lecture. christ, the point of elasticity of markers in the u.s. was not something he pictured when he usually had to quell a pitch in his tent. so yeah, it's too much.

because yes, he loves her fucking body and wants nothing more than her, but in truth he longs for the feeling of her skin against his; to touch her, to kiss her, to make her his. all the time.

but yet, it was just a good way to get off without all the strings and ribbons and yarn and whatever the fuck her soft-looking knit bra is made from attached.

so much for not thinking about her.

but i see her online (and don't think that i should be calling) all the time (i just wanted a happy ending) and i'm pretending i don't care about her stare while she's giving me a tough time

it’s noon the next day and he's laying in (for some reason) stan's bed instead of his own with a blinding, mind-splitting headache and an insatiable craving for a cheeseburger, eyes squinting in lust and something akin to shame as he watches the livestream y/n had just started. she’s in a slip – a very thin, silk and see through slip and it makes him more frustrated than he’s willing to admit.

as he stares at her smooth skin and wonders how it'd be to touch it all, her eyes catch something in the chat and she smiles coyly. "hi, rich." she purrs and richie almost chokes - holy shit, she saw him join.

"do you like my gift i just got?" she asks coyly, snapping the straps of her bra with a small smile and he stiffens almost instantly, thinking of how many times he'd seen her skin in videos and photos that were just for him.

how she'd moaned his name two nights ago on face time, her fingers buried inside herself slightly off-camera. and oh, how he wishes he could see all of her, but they'd not crossed that line yet - anything they'd done hadn't been yet proven visually, only from facial expressions, noises, and the brutal honestly of being together through face time.

he wants her so fucking bad, he needs her like he needs water to drink and air to breathe and it's murdering him as he watches her react to the chat of her livestream, playing with the hem of her black lace panties.

god, he needs a cold shower or something if he's going to get anything done today.

and then he's calling her an a few hours after her stream ends because he just can't wait - he feels his stomach twist with shame as he realizes he should not be doing such a certainly a terrible idea. but she answers after three rings. "richie." her siren voice purrs and he literally feels himself fall deeper into the pit.

"hi there, toots. got any coffee in the pot for me?" he asks, sounding surprisingly eloquent compared to how she normally makes him feel.

she hums in fake thought, and it makes richie grin. she's fucking adorable. "come to the shop, i have my break in ten." and then she hangs up. he sighs, rubbing his face with his hand as he shakes his head. he's utterly fucked.

he's there in record time, a smirk plastered on his face as he walks in and sees her sitting at a table, lookin' all pretty. just for him.

"what made you think of calling?" she says in loo of a greeting. he sits across from her and wills his eyes to meet hers. "nothin' toots." he says with a half shrug, taking a sip of the coffee placed in front of him that has the the name 'dick' written on it in her handwriting. he rolls his eyes affectionately.

"oh, so it wasn't anything to do with my livestream this morning?" she asks with a look, eyeing him. her eyes are swimmable, they hold so many stories and secrets and maybe richie's just hungover, but he's feeling very flustered.

"we-w, uh, no. what... what are you talking about?" he rolls his eyes at himself inwardly, cursing stuttering bill and his contagious speech patterns. "-i don't know what you're talking about, sugar." he recovers fairly smoothly, if he may toot his own horn. and honestly, he can pretend not to care as long as he doesn't look into that goddamn stare of hers.

he chuckles awkwardly, cheeks aflame as she stares at him with a bored look and a small hum. she still looks perfect and he's even more nervous now, because oh god, oh fuck, he's gonna get slapped in the face by y/n.

it was pretty unspoken since they'd started doing... stuff... that richie probably still watched her content online, but she'd never fully addressed it until today during the livestream in front of a thousand others.

he's choking on his spit in shame but then a smile splits her face and richie's sure he's suffocated on his own saliva and gone to a sinner's heaven. or maybe hell.

"oh, richie, i'm just teasing you. look at your face!" she says with an airy laugh, pinching his cheeks and making him want to shrivel up as he turns even redder. what the fuck? "-so cute. alright, i've got to get back to work. i'll see you around, rich." she says with a wink, taking her coffee and tossing it into the trash bin as she stalks towards the employee back room.

he gapes as he watches her leave and then gets up and makes his way to the exit, clutching the coffee like it was trying to jump out of his grasp and make a run for it. god, she's too much.

"maybe i would like you better if you took off your clothes i'm not playing with you, baby i think that you should give it a go" she said, "maybe i would like you better if you took off your clothes i wanna see, and stop thinking If you're too shy, then let me too shy, then let me know"

"-babe, you'll have to try harder than that." richie says with a chuckle, watching his phone screen as the beautiful girl on face time gives him a sly, challenging look. she's in a green lace bra, one richie's not seen yet and he can feel himself stiffen as she absently trails her fingers over her chest.

they'd been much closer over the last week since he last saw her in person, enough so that in the three-is weeks of knowing her, he's positive he's head over ass for her in a way that he shouldn't be. and yet, she still comes back every time, still texts him and answers those face time calls. he's baffled, honestly.

"i know you hate me because i'm right." he adds, not even totally remembering what point he's trying to prove as y/n shifts back a bit and more of her body is revealed, her hair glowing dimly in the soft lighting of her room. his eyes run over her curves, her full thighs and stomach and hips that fill over her panties and he almost groans.

"whatever, maybe i'd like you better if you took off your clothes." she says coyly. and richie's half flattered, as usual, but the more he thinks of it the more deflated he feels. he kind of thought they were growing something more than just getting each other off over face time like horny fifteen year olds. he grins nonetheless.

"you say that a lot, you know." richie says breathlessly as he stares at her. she tilts her head ever so slightly and grins, biting her lip as her eyes move around her screen with a conflicted look. "-why?" he adds.

she hums again.

"well. okay, so there's the visual world - like, the internet, onlyfans, instagram- it tells us that everything is amazing. and we should want everything. and it makes us yearn for everything that we don’t have and everything that’s unobtainable. you know, love, a relationship beyond physical. and even physical, it's different when it's online."

her words confuse him much more than they aid him. "you think... that because of the internet, love is unattainable?" he asks with furrowed brows, unsure how somebody so perfect and, quite frankly, lovable, would think that.

"it is for me." she says it with a small sense of forlorning but mostly it's whispered. enough that richie's heart skips a beat and he's, for the first time, not having a hard time keeping his eyes on her face instead of her body.

"what?" he asks dumbly. she just laughs, shaking her head and he stares at her on his tiny phone screen in the dark.

"that’s something that, you know. in real life, person to person, it has a lot of connotations of... trust and vulnerability and connection. doing what i do- and what we're doing… on the internet - it has the opposite of those connotations. like, before you, i didn't- i didn't really do this, i just was selling stuff. because guys don't want to fuck the girl who sells her body online. and you know now, i want to..." she trails off and richie doesn't dare interrupt her because he thinks she's about to say something he's wanted to tell her for a while now.

"i don't know, i guess. exploring someone's body in physical presence isn't seen at all as voyeuristic, or anything apart from...like, an intimate exchange." she says it casually, brushing hair from her face and shit, richie's swooning. he's in fucking love, he knows it, because y/n is so smart and intelligent and he's so fucking trashed for her. as she speaks, her hands move and distract him slightly from her body, doused in blue light from the screen and splayed out for him and only him on her phone camera.

the soft lace on her hips and chest make his body stiffen and it causes him to suppress a groan as she sighs, but richie knows he can’t screenshot this heavenly sight because she’ll definitely notice and she can probably already tell he’s having a hard time not staring at her alluring figure as she talks.

"-whereas, you know. as soon as it happens on the internet, it becomes kinky and cam-girly. and, you know, that's fine. i love doing it. it's just, i'm not sure where the authentic communication even is now. or if i get to have a happy ending." she says and he finally sees her blush for the first time.

he wishes he was there with her, he wishes that he could touch the redness on her cheeks and caress her curvy body and taste her skin on his tongue. he wants to feel himself inside her, he wants to be with her and kiss her lips and yet he can't, so he sighs and shifts in his position, moving to turn up the brightness of his phone so he can see better.

"shouldn't you get to be the one to decide that, doll?" is all he adds. because he feels kind of lost and just as confused as y/n is with this.

he's starting to feel weird about it, because... is this authentic? what makes things like hookups or whatever the hell they've been doing authentic? shouldn't this be easy? it's just phone sex, phone sex with a really hot girl.

a girl who is complex and alive and full of sincerity and richie is definitely falling harder than he should.

she just sighs but makes no other comment. and then they just stare at each other, richie's face illuminated in his dark room by the phone's reflection.

well, i found a motel it looked like the bins i think there'd been a murder so we couldn't get in i need to get back i've gotta see the girl on the screen

"come over and watch a movie with me." he says into the phone, biting his lip. the silence from the other end of the line is deafening as she makes her decision, because they both know she's not about to come over just to watch the shining or psycho.

they've never done that before, and richie knows if she does come over, then whatever they have will crash down in a fiery mess. and he hates how excited that makes him as he waits in silence for her to drop the ball. so to speak.

"okay." she says, sounding shocked herself, and richie can't contain the excited grin from eclipsing his face. "yeah?" he asks breathlessly, and she's quiet for a little longer. "yeah. text me your address."

she hangs up after that, and richie's thumbs shake as he types his address and sprints out to where stan, mike, ben, and bill are playing video games in he and stan's living room, wheezing at all of them to get out because someone fucking unbelievable is about to walk through that door.

she's there about an hour later, cheeks flushed when richie opens his door, looking just as nervous and flustered. "hi, chee." she says breathlessly, staring up at him with those goddamn eyes, the eyes that pulled him in the first time. his stomach flips in affection at her nickname and he offers her a drink as she takes in his shitty apartment. he wonders briefly if stan ended up buying that rosé that he'd given him shit for considering, and then prays that stan will stay the night elsewhere.

she's already pouring out glasses of wine when he snaps back to reality, and he grins at her, mumbling in thanks as she passes him a glass that's certainly poured almost to the brim.

"what are we watching, then?" she asks coyly, lifting a brow at him. his cheeks are red, but he tugs her arm down the hall towards his room with a grin, their wine sloshing from their glasses as they move erratically.

"we're watching psycho, y/n/n." he says as he pulls her into his room, glancing back to see she's already swallowed down almost half her glass, a lipstick stain on the side of it. faintly he knows stan will be frustrated if richie doesn't clean that off, but he's more distracted by her lips.

"i like psycho." she says with a nod and a cheeky grin, "the whole 'voyeuristic gaze' thing with hitchcock." she mumbles, and richie recalls faintly learning about that in one of his film classes freshman year and he grins as he takes a hefty gulp of his rosé, figuring he's already given himself away and if she's going to do that, he can too.

he hums, setting down his glass and grabbing hers to set it besides his on the bedside table. he turns around, intending on grabbing his laptop so they could watch the film, but she's so much closer that he'd expected and her hands fall onto his shoulders and he almost shits himself.

unpleasant, but honest. just richie's style.

"can i try something?" she asks with a grin, and richie nods, knowing that she could do anything to him and he'd gladly let it happen and most likely pay out of pocket for the damages afterwards.

and then she's pulling him from her grip on his shoulders, her lips sliding against his and making him grip her hips. his mind almost explodes at with y/n-sensory-overload because he feels her everywhere - on his lips, against his hands, on his shoulders, and pressing against his front.

her lips taste like chamomile and rosé.

she thinks his lips taste like vanilla and cigarette smoke, just as she'd always imagined. he feels so real, pressed against her lips and his body against hers, and she sighs as her tongue slips into his mouth because god, she's needed him for so long. and now she has him.

his hands move, touching every inch of her as their tongues fight for dominance. she pulls back, smirking as she gently pushes him onto his mattress, sliding onto his lap smoothly afterwards, grinding her hips against his slowly.

the moan he emits is heavenly and she could cry because she finally gets to hear it in person and not through the crackling static frequency of the phone.

so she grinds down on him again, eager to feel all of him. he's hardening against her core and she whimpers into his mouth in need as his fingers slip under her top, rubbing circles on her bare skin and making her shiver. she's noticed to this gentleness; it was rare when she did get to enjoy the comfort of another body with her own, and when she did they were hardly half as loving or caring as him.

she's desperate now, she needs to feel him inside her after all these weeks of teasing and waiting, so her hand snakes down to palm him through his sweats. he lets out a small groan into her mouth, biting her lip as he pulls back slightly. their eyes meet and his are hooded with lust, lips parted as she pumps him slowly from outside his sweats. his hips buck up lightly into her palm and she smiles gently, kissing him slowly.

"let me make you feel good, y/n." he mutters, eyes pleading as he stares up at her. her stomach flutters with butterflies and she nods, shocked that he wants to pleasure her.

he gently pulls her off his lap until she's laying on his mattress and he stares down at her, biting his lip as he takes her in. he can't fucking believe she's really here. she slowly pulls off her top, leaving her in her bra and jeans as she stares up at him with a wry, seductive smile. then she unzips her jeans and slides them off, leaving her in his favorite set of hers - black, lacy, and revealing. she looks utterly stunning and he groans, his hands falling to run over the skin, tracing the lace on her breasts. her cheeks are red as she gazes up at him.

"touch me, richie." she orders and he almost groans as he drags his lips over the valley of her breasts, sucking on the soft flesh and admiring the splashes of budding purple and pink that he's created. her heartbeat is quick under his fingertips and he moves to unclip her bra, kissing her skin as the fabric falls away.

she's slightly cold in his room, and goosebumps appear over her flesh as richie leans to catch a nipple in her mouth, flicking his tongue over the sensitive bud. she lets out a quiet whine that has richie rutting into the mattress next to her, his fingers trailing down to dance at the waistline of her underwear.

and then he's pulling aside her panties, his fingers running up and down her slick folds and making her jump in lust. he can't wait, just like her, and he's rubbing her clit teasingly as she pleads, "chee, please." her eyes are eyes closed in bliss as his finger slips inside her, crooking slightly as he moves it. he presses his lips to the skin of her breast, pumping his finger and then soon adding another, crooking them both in a way that makes her let out guttural moans of pleasure. he marks her breasts with littered pink and red marks, smiling to himself at her figure.

she can't help but swoon as she watches him, his hair in his face slightly until she brushes it back, his fingers curling inside her and making her gasp, pleasure coursing through her body. his thumb softly comes up to rub her neglected clit and she grabs his shoulders to steady herself, the pleasure almost too much.

she's honestly slightly shocked - knowing richie as little as she really does outside of the literal booty calls at two in the morning and the accumulative forty five minutes they'd spent in person, she'd expected him to be... well, good. just good. because there's no way someone so funny, caring, and smart could also be that good in the sheets.

but right now, he's making her see goddamn stars.

"i've been wanting to touch you for so long, sugar." he mutters, eyes raking over her figure as her breath comes in stuttering gasps. she watches him with blown-wide eyes as his demeanor changes right before her, making her fall apart at his fingertips.

"that feel good, honey?" he asks, smirking as she whimpers, clenching around his fingers. "yes, god you feel so good." she utters, making him groan in approval from where he's sat back, watching her face contort in pleasure. she lets out another moan and richie stares at her body, watching his fingers as they fuck into her. he can't take it, then.

"will you sit on my face, doll?" he blurts, and she nearly yelps out as his fingers leave her. it's abrupt, but she's started to notice that this is how he operates - impulsivity is his second nature. and she loves it.

her face burns as she nods, the thought of richie under her making her whimper with anticipation. "yes, richie, please." she moans out again and he's grinning, laying back on the mattress with a wink. "c'mere, need to taste that pretty little pussy." he mutters and she feels herself clench around nothing, desperate for him as she swings a leg around to straddle his head.

immediately, his hands wrap around her thighs, thumbs smoothing over her stretch marks as he stares up at her, eyes glinting with desire. slowly, his finger pulls the seat of her lace panties to the side and his breath hits her bare, throbbing pussy, making her breath hitch. she cards her fingers through his hair and lowers herself slightly, gasping in shock as his tongue darts out to lick a bold stripe up from her entrance to her clit.

"chee," she moans out, tightening her grip in his hair and sending a groan through his body that reverberates and makes her shiver. his lips attach to her clit and fiery pleasure snakes through her body making her legs shake, a moan escaping her lips immediately. he sucks lightly before releasing to swirl his tongue, her moans making richie impossibly harder through his sweats.

"so good, rich." she mutters and he groans, tongue spreading her wet folds and slowly prodding at her entrance, dipping in slowly before pulling out, teasing her.

she can't help but grind down slightly, making richie grip her tightly, tongue sliding into her again and making her yelp. "you taste so good, baby." he mutters lowly before slowly reattaching himself to her heat, her eyes rolling slightly at the sensation as he fucks his tongue into her. one of his hands snakes up to her ass, gripping it tightly and then slapping it, the stinging pleasure making her buck her hips against him, emitting a hiss from her.

"rich, i-" she cuts herself off with a sharp gasp, the pleasure from richie's mouth making it increasingly harder to speak. her toes curl and her head tilts back as his tongue flicks over her clit, teeth grazing it slightly and making her buck.

she's embarrassingly close already, and judging by the way richie's smirking under her, he can tell. "please, please." she mutters, hips rocking on him as his tongue swirls, nipping softly at her clit and making her cry out. "please, make me cum, 'chee." she mutters and his tongue moves quicker, hand slapping her ass again.

and then she's clenching her thighs on either side of him and grinding down as she hits her peak, moaning quietly as she shakes in pleasure on top of him. he rides through her high, lapping at her and pulling away with a grin as she moans his name dejectedly. she's worn out from the best orgasm she's ever had and he gently nudges her so he slides in between her thighs, her back now on the mattress. he kisses her cheek and she keens quietly.

"fuck me, richie." she mutters, eyes still closed. his eyes snap to hers, surprised at the dominance in her voice after how she was two seconds ago.

he moans quietly, kissing her deeply as he ruts against her and relishes in the feeling. he's pulling off his sweats and boxers in record time and then he's pumping himself as he grips her hips, turning her so she's on her stomach, ass propped up slightly. his hand runs over the smooth skin of her ass, snapping the elastic of her panties and making her moan quietly.

then he's lining up her hips with his, pulling aside the lacy seat of her underwear to press against her entrance. he waits a moment as he leans to press a soft kiss to her spine, slowly easing into her. she moans loudly as he eases in, her face pressing against the pillows. she smiles as she smells the scent she'd just recently come to know as his, his cock stretching her and filling her up fully as he buries himself to the hilt inside her.

"so tight, sugar." he mutters and she whimpers, getting antsy as she adjusts to his size. "richie, please, need it so bad." she mutters, bucking her hips back against him in need.

"say that again." he mutters, sounding strangled, and she grins into the sheets. "please fuck me, richie. need it so bad, need to feel you ruin me." she whimpers, chest fluttering in anticipation. his hands grip her hips as he pulls out of her slowly, almost as slowly as he entered, before stopping almost all the way out. she moans loudly in pleasure as he pushes back in, snapping his hips against hers and filling her completely.

she briefly thanks god that his roommate seemed to be out for the night as she moans his name loud enough for the neighbors to hear.

he sets a brutal pace, his cock thick as it fills her up and makes her toes curl. he pushes her hair away from her neck and presses kisses to it as he hits a spot inside her that makes her scream his name. his fingers move to pinch her nipples, rolling them as he fucks into her.

she's completely blissed out at the feeling of him inside her, so glad that he invited her over and that they finally get to touch each other. "rich, oh my god." she emits, eyes squinted shut in complete pleasure.

"fuck, toots, takin' me so well, aren't you?" he asks, hands kneading her ass before slapping her right ass cheek harshly, making her arch her back. at the new angle they both let out a groan and richie knows he'll fucking cum too soon if they stay like this, so without warning he pulls out completely.

y/n whines, breathing heavily as his hands come to flip her around. now on her back, they make eye contact and she bites her lip, pulling him in for a searing kiss that knocks the wind out of both of them. images of richie in his room alone, snaps and late-night face times play through her mind as he grips her and slides her hips down towards him on the mattress and lines himself to her again, pulling her legs up so they're against his chest before pushing in.

he gives no time to adjust to this angle and it makes her moan loudly as he hits a spot deep inside her that pulls her closer and closer to her second orgasm.

his name leaves her cherry lips like a mantra and he can't stop staring at her as he fucks her into the mattress - the way her tits bounce with his brutal pace, the way her face is twisted in pleasure, the way she clenches and spasms around his cock.

one hand grips her breast, rubbing her nipple with his thumb and forefinger as he kisses her again, addicted to her taste as he feels himself coming closer and closer to the edge.

"chee, fuck, right there." she moans out and he groans in pleasure, the feeling of her walls clenching around him making his hips stutter. he keeps his thrusts up, though, as her fingernails rake down his back leaving small trails of burning pleasure in their wake.

her skin is covered with a sheen line of sweat as she looks up at him, hair wild and lips kiss-bruised. "god, don't stop, 'm gonna cum." she mutters and he snaps his hips harder, eager to make her cum so hard all she can think of is his name.

he moves a hand down to rub at her clit and he moans into her neck as she clenches hard around him, her hips bucking spastically. he can tell she's about to cum, and after a hard thrust, she does for the second time, spasming around him and sending waves of pleasure up his body. she's moaning his name, pulling him closer in bliss as she becomes sensitive and god damn it, she's so fucking beautiful.

"please cum, richie." she whispers against his lips, "please." and then at her will, he's spilling into her, hips stuttering as he pushes as deep into her as he can, loving how she clenches in sensitivity around him. he stays inside her for a moment as they breathe, coming down from their highs and eyes closed as they take in what just happened.

"holy shit." he says because yeah, that's like all he can say right now because he just got to fuck y/n and she's kissing his fucking collarbones right now and its making him blush and his heart flutter.

"that was...incredible." she whispers against his skin and he can feel her smile against his skin. it makes him feel all soft inside as he pulls out of her and flops next to her, kissing her forehead.

his fingers flutter over her sensitive core, smiling as he sees how wrecked she is, some cum dripping down her leg. he then soothes over the lace panties, patting her lightly and kissing her red cheek.

"rich?" she asks, making him look up at her. he hums in question, pushing some of her hair back. "can we still watch the movie?"

his heart swells and he grins, kissing her softly. "of course, doll. you're too cute." he says with a wink, making her roll her eyes. he hands her his shirt and then pulls sweats on himself, mumbling "stay here" and padding out to the kitchen to get her water and snacks, then returning minutes later to see her holding his phone in her clutch with a smirk.

"what're you doing?" he asks with a smile, but she shakes her head, making grabby hands for him and the snacks. so he laughs, cuddling up with the girl of his dreams and watching a flick, falling sleep with tangled limbs and a lipstick-stained neck.

and after she leaves the next morning with a kiss and a wink, he checks his phone and smirks to himself as he notices the lock screen she'd apparently made last night while he was making snacks.

a photo of her in his bed, wearing his shirt, a soft smirk on her face, neck littered in budding hickeys and a hand between her thighs next to her black lace panties.

god, she's going to be the absolute death of him.

//tag list: @gabiatthedisco @blisshemmings @simplesammyx @dickology64 @clownsloveyou @emnotm @moon-shine-baby @toziershmozier @daughter-of-the-stars11 @lets-vibe-bro @trashedfortozier @oceandog13 @beauregard-s@finnskindofwoman @kait-tozier @upamongthestarss \\

#richie tozier x reader #richie tozier smut #richie has adhd #losers x reader #losers club x reader

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kurowrites · 4 years

Text

The Live-In Boyfriend - Chapter 1

Looking for live-in boyfriend, the title read.

It had only been put up the day before.

Well, well, Wei Ying thought to himself. Isn’t that exactly what I was looking for?

He clicked on the link and quickly read through the text of the advert.

Since you all enabled me yesterday - have a chapter of Wei Ying being supremely stupid. Link to AO3.

(Note that this fic is going to get mature later on. Also don’t try this at home pls.)

---

Wei Ying usually wasn’t the kind of person that eavesdropped on the conversations of people he didn’t know. Most of the time, it wasn’t worth the effort of spying, anyway.

(Too many boring people in this world.)

But something about the day he’d had so far, and the way the two girls seated next to him kept giggling and exclaiming in (pretended?) shock, made him listen in. It wasn’t like he had anything better to do. He was just sitting there, sipping on his depression coffee, trying to decide what he was supposed to do next.

“A website?” the girl with a truly impressive set of pink lacquered nails exclaimed. “Isn’t that super sketchy?”

She emphasised ‘sketchy’ by tapping her long, sharp nails onto the tabletop.

“Noo, not at aaaall,” the other girl, dressed in a figure-hugging dress the colour of a ripe banana, replied. “You have to provide identification and they do a background check on you, to make sure you’re not a criminal or something. The sugar daddies too, of course.”

“Oh really?” Pink Nails asked, and immediately looked a lot more interested in the topic.

Well, Wei Ying had to agree with Pink Nail’s interest – he could use one of those sugar daddies himself. Someone willing to pay for his expenses, that would be nice. A lot better than being homeless, at any rate.

“Yeah, and you can even chat with them before meeting them,” Banana said, twirling her hair around her finger coquettishly. “It’s not like I’m going to go out with just any guy.”

“And that’s where you met him?”

“Yeah,” Banana said, leaning back a little, clearly satisfied to have the undivided attention of her companion. “You have lots of choices, and you can put in your preferences, too.”

She leaned forward again, and lowered her voice to a fake whisper that did nothing to make her voice less audible over the soft café music.

“I was really lucky with my current sugar daddy. He’s really generous because he has an established career and a lot of money. He likes kinky sex, but that’s fine, because he also kinda gets off on me sleeping with other guys, so it’s not like I can’t still go out and do whatever I want. I’m just providing him with company and a pretty thing to hang off his arm whenever he goes to a party or something.”

The two women laughed, and returned to the discussion of the advantages of this website.

Wei Ying’s attention was caught. He looked down at the sad little weekend bag next to his chair that contained nearly all of Wei Ying’s worldly possessions, discounting the boxes of books he had managed to stow away in Jiang Yanli’s attic. He’d had to sell all his furniture because he had no space where he could put it anymore. The landlord had kicked him out despite Wei Ying’s best attempts at negotiation (curse his entire bloodline), and now Wei Ying was, essentially, homeless. He had no idea how to weather the next few weeks. He had no stable address, and he needed to look for a new job. Things weren’t looking good for him.

So, he sipped on his possibly last coffee for a long time and pretended not to listen in to the conversation of the two women next to him. And when Banana finally mentioned the name of website she had been using, he felt compelled to casually unpack his own laptop, make use of the café’s free Wi-Fi, and enter the name of the website into his browser.

He was just curious, that was all.

His search returned with the result that this website was in fact the equivalent of a dating website, only for sugar babies and other forms of… special companionship. The company claimed to be classy and strict with their background checks, made assertions of quality and high customer satisfaction. And the registration as a potential sugar baby, companion, or whatever else they wanted to call it, was free.

Wei Ying paused for a moment, wondering if he really should do such a thing. All assertions from the provider aside, it was still a risky thing.

He took another look at the bag at his feet. It couldn’t get much worse than it already was, could it?

He clicked the ‘new account’ button and filled out the application without a second thought.

---

Looking for the right sugar-person wasn’t exactly a simple thing to do, Wei Ying realised about three pages in. He had decided early on that the gender of this potential sugar person didn’t actually matter, but that had the simultaneous advantage and disadvantage of increasing his possible matches considerably. He wasn’t sure how to make a choice in this wild new world that had suddenly opened himself up to him.

He was a bit nervous about the having sex part, too. He tried to imagine having sex with someone he didn’t really know and maybe didn’t find very attractive, but he drew a complete blank. It might be better to stay on the safe side and choose someone who didn’t have sex as a prerequisite. That might work out better for everyone involved.

God, with all these options and decisions, it was as complicated as looking for a job.

Well, technically, if he did it right, it might be a job. Well, not really, but he might get enough money to keep him afloat for a little bit. And with enough money, he might be able to both afford a decent apartment and find a well-paying new job.

He absent-mindedly scrolled past adverts looking for highly specific… qualifications that Wei Ying definitely didn’t have, and was considering giving up when he saw an advert for the same city he was living in.

Looking for live-in boyfriend, the title read.

It had only been put up the day before.

Well, well, Wei Ying thought to himself. Isn’t that exactly what I was looking for?

He clicked on the link and quickly read through the text of the advert.

Looking for live-in boyfriend

The ideal candidate must be clean, quiet, obedient, and sophisticated. Must be able to play his part convincingly around relatives, business associates, and friends. Good table manners and skilful socialising are required.

Physical relations are not required, but negotiable if so desired. Strictly no romantic entanglements. Affairs during the duration of the contract will lead to immediate termination.

I offer a large apartment with own private room. All ensuing costs (rent, food, clothing, allowance etc.) are covered.

The advert didn’t reveal much about the writer and his personality, so it was difficult to say anything about how well they’d fit together. But the man offered a room! Without the prerequisite of sex!

He clicked on the profile of this potential sugar daddy to find out more about him. The man, who went by L. Z., was the same age as Wei Ying, and had been working in his family’s company ever since he graduated university. Someone who had been born into wealth, probably.

He lived alone and was openly gay, so his family would expect him to bring a man to public events and family dinners. His hobbies included music, reading and tea ceremony. All in all, Wei Ying started to wonder if he was being catfished, because the age and occupation said successful young man, but the rest of it said boring middle-aged uncle with a receding hairline.

But what did Wei Ying care about boring when such a perfect opportunity presented itself to him? He didn’t want some kind of old, kinky dude. He simply wanted a place to stay, and if that stay came with an allowance and some social contact, it would be perfect for him. He had good table manners. And he did well at socialising. Most of the time.

He decided that ‘quiet’ and ‘obedient’ were relative things. He could be quiet! Sometimes! If he was reading interesting things!

He was going to contact this person, worries and fears be damned. What use was it to wait around? If this man was actually for real, he might get snatched up by someone else quickly.

He clicked on the 💌 button on the sidebar of the profile, and typed out a quick message.

Hi L. Z.!

My name is Wei Ying. I live in the same city as you and as coincidence would have it, I’m currently looking to be a live-in boyfriend! We’re the same age, too, so I think we would work very well as a couple!

I also like reading (if you have a library, I’d be all over that) and I think I can safely promise not to have any affairs while we’re dating. As for the rest, I think it would be best to judge for yourself. I’m free the next few days, so I have time for a personal meeting!

I’m a little curious though – why are you looking for a live-in boyfriend? Not to judge you, since I’m obviously responding to your advert, but you seem like a man that’s very put together. You probably could choose anyone you wanted, so why an advert?

Best, Wei Ying

He didn’t really think that he would get an answer soon, and half expected his message to go ignored, but it took barely an hour until a notification pinged on his phone, indicating that he’d received a reply.

He eagerly clicked the ‘view message’ button.

Dear Wei Ying

Thank you for your message.

I agree with you. Someone from the same city and of the same age would be a good potential partner. If you do not mind, I would like to invite you to my apartment for a personal meeting. We can meet in a café if you are more comfortable meeting on neutral ground, but you should know where you would live before you make any decisions.

To answer your question: I am not interested in a romantic relationship, but my family has been concerned about my happiness ever since I came out as gay. They want to see me in a fulfilling relationship. I want to make them stop worrying. A contractual arrangement will take care of these issues. Once we terminate the relationship, it would also provide me with a good reason not to date for some time.

Best regards,

Lan Zhan

Wei Ying gaped a little. That was a… very decisive statement. This Lan Zhan certainly didn’t beat around the bush.

Oh god, was he really catfished? Human trafficking, perhaps? But then…

He had no time to lose, and getting a home and money as a package deal was very tempting. If Jiang Yanli ever got wind of this, she might strangle him with her own bare hands. But well. She never would get wind of it. Wei Ying would make sure of that.

He pulled out his laptop again, and typed out a second answer.

Hi Lan Zhan!

Nice to meet you again. 😊

Meeting you at the apartment is fine, just know that I’m going to inform a friend of my whereabouts and check in with them to make sure everything is fine.

Tell me your address and a time that works for you!

Best,

Wei Ying

He sent the message and within a few minutes, he had an address and a time – the next day, at 5.30 pm. Lan Zhan also assured him that he was perfectly fine with Wei Ying telling a friend where he was. So maybe not a catfish, after all?

Wei Ying immediately looked for the address online, and it was a nice, modern building in the centre of town. Not some kind of seedy warehouse or an abandoned house. If he ended up disappearing in that part of town, there would probably be witnesses.

He sent a short confirmation to Lan Zhan, telling him that he would be there at the desired time. And then, he spent the rest of the evening panicking about what he had done.

He just barely remembered that he needed to contact Nie Huaisang and use him as security. Nie Huaisang was the only one he could think of right now that wouldn’t try to talk him out of this. Jiang Cheng would just straight up murder him.

He had committed now. There was no way back.

---

His internet search had already informed him that the apartment was in the better part of town, so Wei Ying had expected a rather classy apartment building. What he hadn’t expected was that said apartment building came with an actual concierge. He’d never had to go through a concierge to meet any of his friends so far. The entrance hall almost looked like a hotel.

Good gracious, this might all be an elaborate prank.

On the other hand, if he disappeared, now he had another witness.

He walked up to the concierge’s desk and smiled at the man behind the desk winningly.

“Hi, my name is Wei Ying. I’m here to meet Lan Zhan.”

The man gave him a critical look, from his ponytail down to the thick black leather boots he always wore, and picked up the phone in front of him.

He entered a number and let it ring a few times.

“Good evening, Mr. Lan,” the concierge said when someone picked up on the other end of the line. “A Mr. Wei is here to see you. Yes, understood. I will send him up immediately.”

The concierge came out from behind his desk and directed Wei Ying to the elevator. He held the door open for Wei Ying and pushed the button for the right floor, then bid him goodbye.

“Thank you!” Wei Ying called through the closing elevator doors, but the concierge was already out of sight.

Oh well.

He was going to meet Lan Zhan. Right now.

He quickly pulled out his mobile phone and tapped out a message to Nie Huaisang.

[Wei Ying, 05:29 pm] I’m going up to the apartment now. IT COMES WITH A CONCIERGE. 😱

The door pinged and opened onto an empty hallway with elegantly tiled floor and a tasteful but abstract mural on the wall. Wei Ying stepped out of the elevator and looked around curiously. Which way was he supposed to go?

“Wei Ying?”

There, at the end of the hallway, a man stood in the frame of an opened door.

This must definitely be a catfish, Wei Ying decided then and there.

There was no way that a man this beautiful needed his help.

#kuro writes #the untamed #wei wuxian #lan wangji #wangxian #mdzs #live in boyfriend AU

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walkerismychoice · 3 years

Text

Rumor Has It (Raleigh X MC)

Book: Platinum

Pairing: M!Raleigh X MC

Rating: PG-13 (just a slight bit of language)

Author’s note: This is a request from @withbeautyandrage for Day 7 of the Choices February Challenge - Gossip. Yes I realize I’m already 2 days behind, but better late than never right? Subsequently other requests are running behind as well but I promise to complete them all.

Word Count: 1679

Every morning on her walk to the recording studio, Aria makes a point to take in the sights and sounds of the city. A small town girl at heart, she doesn't know if she'll ever get over the wonder that is New York. As much as she she still feels a bit out of place among the bustling crowd of natives zooming along the sidewalks with their heads down and only their destination in mind, she hopes to never become as jaded as so many of them are.

She's gotten a later start today so she has to skip stopping for coffee. That doesn't keep her from appreciating the rich aroma wafting through the air as she passes her favorite cafe. She pauses a moment, closes her eyes, and inhales deeply. Smelling it almost as good as tasting it. Never mind, it just makes her want it more, so she picks up the pace to ensure time for her weekly, somewhat self-indulgent ritual.

“Hey, Joe!” Aria waves at the news stand owner.

His face lights up when he sees her. “How’s my favorite customer this morning?”

“Lacking caffeine, but otherwise decent. Got anything for me today?” Sure actual print media is falling out of fashion and she can get all the latest news and gossip in real time at the tip of her fingers, but there’s something about seeing herself on paper that makes it all more real. Some might think that’s vain, or just downright lame, but it’s all still new to her and she’s going to enjoy it while the novelty lasts.

“There’s a blurb about your collaboration with Avery in People and you’re mentioned in a couple of the rags.” Joe hands her the magazines.

“Thank-” Aria begins as she takes the stack only to be stopped in her tracks by the cover image facing her. "Uh, thanks Joe. Gotta run." She takes some cash out of her pocket, places it in his hand, and takes off, not evening waiting for him to offer the change she always refuses.

Once inside the busy Overnight Records lobby she plops down in a chair off to the side to collect herself. Staring at the pair on the cover and reading the accompanying headline her heart sinks once again: Reformed bad boy Raleigh Carrera and America's sweetheart Jaylen Riaz are the new “it” couple.

Aria wants to scream. She wants to tear up the magazine and chuck it across the room. But she can't afford another public meltdown spurred on by her rivalry with Jaylen. Ugh, she wasn't even trying to be anyone's rival, but their competition fueled it, and then when Jaylen got to sing Aria's song she lost it. She's spent enough time trying to ensure the public that she's not the hot-headed lunatic they saw on TV that day. Jaylen won't get the best of her again.

Just toss it in the bin, Aria's brain tries to convince her body to act responsibly, but curiosity gets the best of her. She opens up the publication to a nauseating two page spread and her stomach turns - Raleigh and Jaylen dancing too close in a club, sitting cozily in a booth, holding hands on their way out. However, none of those cause as much pain as the the one of Raleigh standing with his arm around Jaylen, an enormous smile on her face as he's whispering in her ear.

That's not all though. The worst part, the final insult to injury is Raleigh's hand down low straddling the the small of Jaylen's back and the curve of her ass, or at least that's what she assumed from experience. Throughout Aria's "relationship" with Raleigh that was the one thing, a simple intimate gesture both playful and protective in nature and hidden from view, that led Aria to believe what they had wasn't just for show. What a fool she had been.

Before Aria can listen to rational thoughts telling her that this could possibly be another publicity stunt, she's distracted by an inset with a broken apart picture of her and Raleigh.

"Rumor has it Raleigh broke Aria Campbell's heart when he left her for Jaylen?!," she can't help but read aloud, her voice escalating much more than intended. A nearby man in a suit looks over at her, and Aria takes a deep breath and vows again she's not going to fall apart. Out of patience and out of time, she throws the tabloids away, no longer interested what any of them have to say.

The click of her heels on the marble floor sounds extra loud as she stomps off in the direction of the studio. Aria’s fine, she really is. Her little thing with Raleigh was never supposed to be real, so what he’s doing now is none of her concern. Out of sight, out of mind...until he’s not.

“Fuck!” Aria blurts out, clasping her hands over her mouth as she comes to a dead stop.

“Well it’s nice to see you too, darling. Didn’t you miss me?” Raleigh stands inches away looking as smug as ever.

“What are you doing here?” Aria dodges his question with one of her own.

“You know we are signed by the same record label....”

“But you weren’t on the schedule today,” Aria says before realizing she’s given away too much.

Raleigh smirks. “You stalking me Campbell?”

“Just an observation,” she replies coolly. “Anyway...I’m running late, so see you around.” She breezes past him without waiting for a response and doesn’t look back.

Aria’s recording session goes well - exceptionally well actually. Music has always been a safe space to channel her emotions, where she can feel without thinking too much. In fact, she’s almost forgotten she was so upset about Raleigh this morning, when she walks out the studio door to see the living, breather reminder once again.

“What, are you stalking me now, Carerra?”

“Touche.” Raleigh chuckles but then his tone becomes more somber. “I did check the schedule because I wanted to talk to you before you left. Something didn’t sit right after I saw you this morning. “Are you upset with me?”

Such a loaded question. Yes she’s mad at him even though she has no right to be, or maybe she does. Their relationship started out fake but somewhere along the way there was a shift, at least for her. But then he just let her go like she was just a contractual obligation that had been fulfilled.

“How’s Jaylen?” She deflects yet again, but she can't help getting right to the point.

Raleigh shakes his head and lets out a sigh. “Is that what this is about? Jaylen and I are just friends, if you could even call it that. You know damn well how easily the media makes assumptions and how much the label encourages it. It's more like a work thing.”

"Just like I was a work thing? Did you fuck her too?" Aria fires back, almost in disbelief over her newfound boldness.

For the first time ever, she's the one to leave him lost for words. His eyes wide before they begin to soften Raleigh takes a step forward and tries to place a hand on her shoulder but she flinches and backs up against the hallway wall.

"Aria....it's not like that, we weren't like that."

"There was never a we. Once our little stunt was done, you seemed perfectly fine to wash your hands of me."

"But I thought-" Raleigh runs a hand through his through his hair. "Look, I'm used to women throwing themselves at me. I've never had to question if someone was into me. I really thought that you genuinely liked me, and the feeling was mutual, but then you talked about how relieved you were it was over and that we weren't forced to spend time together anymore. I may not have shown it, but that hurt."

Oh my god. Aria cannot believe what an idiot she had been. Unlike Raleigh, she'd never had such confidence in relationships. She doesn't want to say she had been testing Raleigh, but that's basically what she had done. She didn't want to face rejection, so she'd thought if she played it cool, Raleigh would have an easy out if he needed it.

"And I thought since you didn't fight me on it, you didn't really want me. God, I ruined everything."

Raleigh takes another step closer, and with her back against the wall Aria now has nowhere to go, but she doesn't want to either. He brings a hand up and she lets him rest his palm against her cheek, fingers twining in her her hair.

"Well then, to be clear, I want you Aria, I always have."

Raleigh's words and the sincerity in his voice create a spark that ignites a flame inside her. And when he leans in to kiss her, lips softly brushing hers until her response lets him unleash the hunger that's been lingering, that flame sets her whole body alight, like fireworks illuminating the dark night sky.

When they finally break for air, Aria can't speak. Raleigh has literally taken her breath away.

"Convinced yet?" Raleigh asks the question he already knows the answer to, amusement in his eyes and a smile playing on his lips. Aria just nods and he goes in for another kiss.

"Wait..." Aria turns her head and pushes her hands against his chest. "Aren't you supposed to be with Jaylen? Shouldn't you clear that up before anyone sees us? We wouldn't want to create any more scandalous rumors."

"But scandalous rumors make for the best publicity." Raleigh chuckles.

Aria laughs but shakes her head. "Your reputation may be bulletproof, but I don't need to add mistress to my list."

"Okay, okay. I'm texting Fiona to help handle my 'break-up' with Jaylen effectively immediately. Once the word is out, you're all mine and I don't care who sees it. Deal?"

"Deal." Aria shakes his hand as if they are entering another business deal, however this time it's anything but.

#platinum #raleigh carrera #raleigh x mc #playchoices fanfic #choices february challenge

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joshslater · 4 years

Text

Five Step Program

Similar stories and bonus material on my Patreon.

I stared at the contents of the envelope, a blue jockstrap, and a folded piece of paper. I hadn’t put much hope into this “miracle solution” to becoming a jock without any of the work. Of course there was a catch. “First 20 customers get their first shipment free of charge” was enough for me to fill out the form with my information. It wasn’t anything too revealing. Name, address, height, weight, age. A box where you could write what you hoped to achieve with this revolutionary five step program. That’s what they really were after, I guessed. Having people enter their dreams so that they can tailor their next scam better. I was even surprised I got anything in the mail at all, and now having opened it, it made even more sense.

I could see how sending a jockstrap to someone perhaps fulfills some legal requirement that the recipient could now look like a jock. It could be a way to avoid getting a federal fraud charge. But I hadn’t spent a dime on this, so it didn’t make any sense. The jockstrap looked like any other jockstrap, I guessed. I’d never owned one, nor worn one. The pouch was dark blue and made with two layers of some synthetic mesh material. The big waistband was light blue with the letters JOCK repeated in dark blue around it. There was a faint smell of synthetic material and detergent. I did a mental sigh and opened the folded letter.

Congratulation on becoming one of our first customers on the revolutionizing five step Jock Express program. As a thank you for signing up, this first part is totally free of charge. Should you wish to continue the program, as we are confident you will after having successfully completed the first session, simply use the URL at the bottom of this page to enter your credit card information and we’ll send you the next item as soon as the payment is confirmed. I’m happy to inform you that we can offer a reduced price for the entire program, should you chose to start it within five days. The price is only $100 for the next installment, and progressively higher as you advance in the program. There is no commitment to purchase so you can stop the program at any point. We’re confident you will want to complete all the five steps in the Jock Express program.

Fuck that! What morons sign up to this kind of shit?

Instructions: The Jock Express is the easiest and most user friendly fitness program ever developed. Simply drink a lot of water, put on the items included in each program step, as you normally would, and go to sleep.

I was even more confused. Why would that sway anyone to put out $100 for at best another piece of gym clothing? I put it all in my in-tray on my desk and let it slip from my mind. I had dinner, watched TV, answered some late emails and the usual Tuesday stuff. By bedtime I walked past my home office and had the sudden recollection that I had something waiting in the in-tray. Then I remembered what it was, and almost reluctantly decided to go ahead with wearing the damn thing. I was still convinced it was a scam, but was immensely curious to exactly how it would work. If nothing else I would get to feel what wearing a jockstrap feels like. I drank a glass of water, put on the jockstrap, and went to bed. The jockstrap was as comfortable as anything and I quickly went to sleep.

Apparently I slept through the first alarm, and jolted awake on hearing the more incessant buzz from the phone. I jumped out of bed and it wasn’t until halfway to the bathroom I realized I was naked. I wouldn’t say massive, as in cartoonish in any way, but my dick and balls were noticeably bigger than before. It took a few seconds for my still startled brain to put the pieces together. The jockstrap had disappeared and somehow affected the body. It hadn’t replaced any body parts, I could still recognize my dick, but it was for sure altered. Suddenly $100 felt like way too little money. I didn’t even put any pants on as I typed in the URL from the letter. Jock Express step #2 for $100 and express delivery for another $25. Annoyingly no option to order all four remaining steps as a package. I just wanted to have them all in my house as soon as possible.

By the time I had entered all my details, checked all the boxes, and clicked the final webshop button I was rocking a massive hard-on. The biggest one in my life so far, by far. I didn’t care right then if I would come late or call in sick, I just knew that I had to take my pre-cum leaking enhancement for a test drive, and slowly started to move my hand up and down the shaft. It felt better than ever, and lasted longer than I have ever before. I’m not really sure how long, because I zoned out a bit while wanking, and then exploded with an epic load of cum. I managed to tilt the chair back and catch it all on my body, but then I felt really spent and dozed off, only to be brought back with a text message from my boss. Sick day it is, I decided.

A more apt description would be a lewd day. I just cycled between laptop porn, wanking and showers, and combinations thereof. I loved the difference it made when wearing underwear. Even when flaccid you could tell here was action waiting, not just only wearing underwear, but while wearing jeans too. I took photos so I had progress photos to compare with.

The next day was a strange one. I worked all day in the glow of someone with confidence, as if somehow I had done some achievement. I kind of surprised myself with how much of a difference it made when dealing with the pileup of emails from yesterday. Big dick energy. I could make decisions so much faster than I was used to. I don’t know if I really had more confidence, or just didn’t care as much. I was for sure giddy with anticipation of what was yet to come by overnight delivery. I forced myself to stay until official end of office hours and then bolted and drove straight home.

Thank God there was a DHL box in my mailbox, or I don’t know what I would have done. I opened it on my way in, and it’s contents were similar to the first one. A folded letter and some folded cloth. Without opening the letter I unfolded the cloth, which turned out to be a plain, sleeveless, white cotton T-shirt. Had there been someone to high five, I would have done so. I’m not fat, but there is a bit of flabbiness I would love to get rid of, so I couldn’t wait for this part. I felt anticipation in my stomach and something else in my pants. I hadn’t had a wank since this morning.

Evening couldn’t come soon enough. The letter said basically the same as the last one. A new URL for the $400 Jock Express #3, which I immediately ordered, again with overnight shipping. Not really sure what to kill time with, I figured a jock would watch sport, so I just randomly put some football on. I hadn’t really paid any attention to sports before, so I wasn’t sure about who was who, what the series looked like, or really what happened on the field besides the obvious. I ended up masturbating to the football, which in my opinion made it better. By 9:30 I decided to drink a few glasses of water, strip, put on the sleeveless T-shirt, and go to bed. I tossed and turned in anticipation for quite a while. The T-shirt had a very loose fit, and the big holes for the arms made it even more mobile, though it was anchored by the crew neck. Finally at some point I managed to fall asleep.

I woke up before the alarm. It was dark enough that I knew I hadn’t slept through them all. Instead of getting up or turning on the light, I just slowly moved my hand to my chest under the sheet. My chest was about the same size, but felt firmer, I imagined. But more importantly I was naked and the shirt was gone. I moved my hand down and couldn’t contain my joy when I started to feel the faint square of abs. I jumped out of bed and ran into the bathroom to have a look in the mirror. The effect was better than I thought from just touch. My torso not only looked fit as a model, with abs and V and all, but younger and with better skin. Perhaps an illusion, but it almost looked like my dick was bigger as well.

Having woken up early, after a wank and a shower, I was one of the first in at the office and quickly got ahead on my tasks for the day. I still had the anticipation I felt yesterday, but today it was more like I knew what to expect. It wasn’t just a one-off or a fluke, this was legit and it was happening. As I started early I decided to flex out early and rush back home. I spent the drive home fantasizing about different types of clothing. I was kind of wishing for those sleeves they use in basket, to amp up my arms, but there might be some scientific reason why they changed the body parts in a specific order. Who was I kidding? This wasn’t science. This was magic.

I ripped open the familiar package as soon as I was inside the front door. This time it was white under armour legging of some sort, ending just below the knees. I was considering strip down fully naked and put on the leggings right then and there, and wear them until it was time to go to bed, but decided against it. Even though the descriptions were vague and didn’t really say you couldn’t do that, I didn’t want to risk fucking up the process. Instead I found some underwear in the same color as the jockstrap and took a pair of scissors to an old white T-shirt to make it look like the one I put on yesterday. Then I put on those, and nothing but, and sat myself in front of the TV, determined to actually try to follow the game this time, whichever game I happened to see.

It might be I imagined it, perhaps because I’ve never really seen myself in a sleeveless T-shirt before, but it looked to me like my arms were a bit more defined than yesterday. I realized that I had just assumed only the parts under the clothes are affected, but that’s just something I made up. It could be that it just primarily acts under the clothes, or perhaps it was just a coincidence and the clothes really could change anything. In the end I let it go. It didn’t matter, I couldn’t prove it either way, and I couldn’t watch a game, have deep thoughts and masturbate all at the same time anyway. I was so into it I almost forgot to order the next package. A steep $1000 for whatever the next item was, but so far it was fucking worth it.

I really liked how I looked in the 3/4 leggings or whatever the fuck they are called. Just imagining how much better I would look the morning after made me go to bed with a big boner, despite being thoroughly wanked. I tried to calm myself by thinking of the last game I watched, and not give Jock Express a thought, and it kind of worked. I know I fell asleep pretty quickly and dreamt of football until the alarm woke me up.

“Fuck yeah!” was the first I could think when I saw myself. The thighs were about as large as before, but the line going down them made it obvious they were muscles and not jiggle matter. It even felt different just standing. I’m almost positive my dick had grown even more. Who the hell wouldn’t dish out $400 or whatever for this shit?

While the day started great it quickly became frustrating with all the corporate bullshit. I knew how to do my job. There were just so many fucking rules in the way of doing it in the best way. Perhaps the anticipation of the second to last package made me be in a bad mood. Whatever. I bolted as soon as I could, cranked up the volume in the car, trying to not think of anything until I got home. I almost punched something when I opened the mailbox and didn’t find an envelope. Instead it was just a note about DHL attempted to deliver while I wasn’t home. I could either call them to deliver tomorrow or drive to a pickup point. Like fuck I would wait another full fucking day.

I was furious when I got back into the car, blasting music as loud as I could, but I quickly calmed down. Perhaps this was a good thing? It might be a box with shoulder pads from football or hockey or lacrosse or whatever the fuck else looks hot. You know what else is hot? Michael at the DHL pickup point. I mean, I’m not homo or anything, I’m just saying he was a good looking dude.

The packet he gave me was a bit disappointing though. No way it could contain anything as large as shoulder pads. I didn’t want to fuck with my mojo, so I kept the same routine as before and didn’t open it until back home. Fucking cleats and socks. Another fucking leg day. And they smelled bad too, like distilled vinegar or some shit. As I entered the URL from the letter on my phone I got two more shocks. The price of the last package was ten thousand fucking dollars! And even worse, the delivery wouldn’t arrive until Monday. Two fucking days away. “This is bullshit” I shouted at nobody and threw the empty cardboard box into the wall to no damage to either.

I was still furious and went straight to the fridge, pulled out a cold can of beer, opened it, and downed half of it. It felt better, but I was still upset on the world in general. I looked at the phone screen again. $10k is a fuckton of money. There wasn’t a rush to buy it right now either, if they didn’t do overnight delivery during weekends. I emptied the can and crushed it against the countertop. It hurt my hand, which just added to my anger for being such a weakling. I pulled the rest of the six-pack out of the fridge and threw it in the living room couch on my way to the bedroom. I needed to get out of these stuffy office clothes and cool down with a cold one, or four.

I ripped off the tie and started to unbutton the shirt on my way into the bedroom, and once there opened the door to my wardrobe. I felt like a girl, not knowing what to wear. I hated everything my eyes fell on, and I hated feeling like that. I bunched the shirt into a ball and threw it into a corner, together with the tie. I climbed out of the pants as quickly as I could and threw them there as well. Then I stopped myself.

Everything I saw I really liked, I realized. The pecs, the abs, the thighs, and the generous bulge in the boxer briefs.I yanked off my socks and more deliberately lowered my boxers to let the dick and balls loose. I knew what I wanted from this junk selection of clothes, and opened a drawer with my athletic clothes and pulled out a pair of grey sweatpants. It was Friday and my dick and balls deserved some freedom, I thought, as I put on the sweats without any underwear. I picked up the sleeveless T-shirt from the floor by the bed and put that on as well. I felt so much better. A few beers, whatever game was on, and some more wanking, and perhaps this could turn into a good evening after all.

After two more beers, cum stains on sweatpants, T-shirt and the couch, and fuck knows how many games I zapped through I couldn’t wait any longer. Whatever bullshit the cleats and sock did, the sooner it was over with, the sooner I could move on with the final package. $10k was still a lot, but if I sold all shares I could buy it, keeping both house and car.

The socks went almost up to the knees, but weren’t any real soccer socks or anything like that. The looked more like something someone might have to the gym, or something a skater would wear. Skater was perhaps right, because they smelled like that vinegary acidic smell of really sweaty skater shoes. The socks were white with a wide black band around it near the top, and were a bit off-white on contact surfaces around the foot, as if they had been used in black shoes by someone. As if I would fucking care. I pulled up both legs of the sweats over the knees and put on both socks, pulling them as high as possible. The cleats were black and a bit banged up, but fit perfectly on my feet. I didn’t even remember having given out my shoe size. I was unsure how tight to tie them, so I went with comfortable without being loose.

It felt weird walking with them, like the shoes were pushing your forward. Not at all like my much flatter leather shoes. Somehow my test walking ended up by the fridge, so I grabbed another six-pack and returned to the couch for some more ESPN or whatever.

I had no idea what sport it was on the screen, but glancing out the window I could see that it wasn’t evening anymore. I must have fallen asleep, I realized, but I felt way better than I ought to, given the pile of crushed beer cans around me. I walked to the toilet to have a piss, and it wasn’t until I lowered the front of my sweatpants to grab my morning semi-stiff snake I realized I was barefoot. I was pissing for probably a good minute, aiming down with one hand. Holy fuck so much I’ve kept in while sleeping. I was pretty sure I had cleats and socks on when I fell asleep. I did a few bounces on the balls of the feet. It felt fucking great, and shook loose the last drops of piss from my dick. I dropped it back into the sweatpants, and broke into a smile from how fucking huge of a tent it made, despite being just a semi. I did a few more jumps, looking at how the flagpole in my front swung up and down. I really didn’t deserve to feel this great after yesterday, but I’d fucking take it. I felt so full of energy I felt I could do anything. I wanted to run just to see how it would feel.

I dashed into my bedroom and emptied the rest of the athletic clothes drawer on the floor. Some T-shirts, a pair of basket shorts, white socks and wiped down indoor and outdoor shoes. All of it was underwhelming, outright disappointing. And why the fuck did I keep the shoes here and not by the door? I grabbed the outdoor shoes and without bothering with socks started to mash my foot into it. It was clearly at least one size too small, perhaps several. Who the fucks know how shoe sizes work. I threw both shoes into the wall above my pile of office clothes. Fucking hell. Why do all days start out great and then go downhill so fast, I wondered.

I grabbed a pair of flip flops, the car keys, and pulled the credit card out of the wallet and walked out to the car. The car stereo startled me when I turned the ignition key, as it blared out some hip hop at max volume. I reached to turn it down, but changed my mind. It felt like my mood, as I was driving to my closest mall almost below speed limit. There wasn’t much traffic out anyway on a Saturday morning. As I turned into the almost empty parking lot in front of the mall I realized the fucking God damn shit mall would open for another 40-something fucking minutes. I wished I could turn up the music louder.

As I looked down on the cum stains on my shirt and tenting sweats I decided why the fuck not, and started to beat off in sync with the music.

40-something fucking minutes later I entered the sporting goods store in the mall. Johnson’s or Dick’s or Willy’s or whatever, I don’t care. I picked up some proper compression clothes, like the leggings I had earlier with a matching top. I got myself some outdoor Nike’s, a few proper tanks, some jocks, boxer shorts and socks, new flip flops, and a snapback cap. On the way to the cashier I decided to pick up a wooden baseball bat and a regulation size football as well. Back in the car I ripped off all the stickers and shit and put on something I could run in. The sneakers, jockstrap and shorts, a tank top, and the snapback. I left the car and just ran.

It was a revelation. The first time I tasted ice cream or coca cola, or the first time I discovered I could do something else with my dick besides peeing and hitting it too hard. I felt like a good damn terminator. Like as long as I kept the pace below sprinting I could run for hours. Trickles of sweat running down my face, my arms, my back, wetting the fabric of my clothes where it could, cooling the skin with the breeze my motion generated where it couldn’t. I have no fucking idea how long I actually run. When I finally ended up back in the car I was steaming and real fucking hungry.

I felt like a shower was in order, but I was too hungry to do that first. I went by Five Guys and had a bacon cheeseburger with fries and a peanut butter milkshake. As I started eating I realized I wasn’t anywhere near tired. It was probably enough running for today, but I wanted to do more. Halfway through the meal I decided I would visit the gym we had a company membership at. I had only been there a few times since the introduction walkthrough. I wasn’t even sure I had the card in my wallet anymore, or if it was in the bowl of stuff in the kitchen.

I made a quick stop at home, unloaded my car, found the card, and set off to the Pacific Wellness Center. The dude in the lobby had a pissy attitude and asked me if I was wearing indoor shoes. I asked him what they looked like, and he let me in. Such a shame, because he was kind of good looking.

Inside the gym the results were mixed. Squats, lunges, planking, and abductor machine all went excellent. It was fun, even. But everything involving arms went miserably. I could only lift a pathetic load, and after a few reps I would be tired. I even embarrassed myself in front of two massive gym buddies. One of them had amazing arms. You could see how strong they were even when he wasn’t lifting, but fuck me what beautiful ‘ceps when loaded. And tanned too. It was lucky I had the jockstrap on, because that body was smoking hot.

I could only stand a few more failures after that and then sped back home, still with hip hop at max, in a mix of emotions. I got naked on the way to the bathroom, and there I spent perhaps an hour in the shower, getting the grime and sweat off me, and wanking twice, thinking of the arms of the hot dude. As I dried myself on a towel I knew I had to buy the last package. Ten fucking thousand fucking dollars. I had to use the laptop to access my bank, and once I had put in the sell order for my stock portfolio I saw the pornhub tabs I hadn’t looked at since Wednesday.

The big-busted bimbos I had wanked my way through the Wednesday suddenly didn’t seem as interesting. I clicked around a bit until I found a muscle stud fucking a Latino girl. How quickly the taste can change, but except for pathetic arms, I’m was now the muscle stud. I quickly entered the URL from the Jock Express #4 box and ordered the last package. The delivery date was still Monday, so come Tuesday the muscle stud would be me. Only one fucking week.

Since I was out of beer I threw on my old shorts and a T-shirt, and had a walk to my nearest convenience store and bought one six-pack for each hand. I was feeling a bit stiff from the training, but it was much better than it ought to be.

As I opened the door back at home the warm smell of gym clothes, sweat, and feet hit me. I did the responsible thing and threw everything in the washing machine, opened a beer, and started to watch whatever was on.

Sunday was just a boring-ass filler day. I woke up at a decent time, had a long run. I passed through the park, but didn’t engage with any of the groups playing football or beach volley there. I could wait two more days to get my arms sorted. I did some cleaning up and domestic shit back home. Then I went to the gym again, but this time I pretended it was leg day, so I didn’t have to embarrass myself. After dinner I had an evening jog as well, and only had a few beers before bedtime.

Same thing on Monday. Woke up pretty early and went for a long run. When I was almost back home I got a text message from my boss, saying we needed to talk about my performance over the last few days. My answer “Suck my balls” probably summed up the conversation much better than any in-person meeting. I found that the best way to find porn with muscle studs in them was to search in the gay section. Just because you like to watch big arms and strong backs doesn’t make you homo. I jacked off to the videos until it was time to eat lunch. By 2 pm I was climbing on the fucking walls in anticipation, and every minute felt like too long. Perhaps it wouldn’t arrive today at all? I heard the mailman at 2:18 and rushed out wearing only shorts and snapback.

The mailbox was stuffed full with a big, soft envelope. I tore it open on my way back inside, kicked the door shut, and emptied the contents on my kitchen table. A big black something fell out, as well as something small that rattled across the table. Ignoring the letters, as usual, I unfolded the cloth. It was a big, black hoodie in sweatshirt material, with the print “STRONG” on the front. Finally arms! I picked up the small plastic box that almost fell off the table and opened it. It contained some sort of advanced mouthguard mad in blue, white, and transparent plastic of different hardness and flex. The kind that football players use.

Not knowing what to do next, I went to the gym and spent a few hours just randomly doing low weight, high rep stuff. I was trying to catch a glimpse of everyone else who worked out to see what their arms and legs looked like. Once I felt it was too obvious I wasn’t doing anything serious I drove home, but instead of going inside I started to walk and walked for hours just looking. It felt good just to be in motion. I didn’t return back until the sun started to set, and it was almost fully dark when I walked through the door.

I decided to just go ahead with the last piece of transformation. I stepped out of my sneakers and pulled off my damp socks. It didn’t smell of strawberries. I pulled off the T-shirt and stepped out of the basket shorts, but kept the compression shorts on. I grabbed the hoodie from the table and put it over my head. Perhaps it was me, but it smelled of musky sweat inside while I put it on. I poured myself a big glass of water and downed it.

I walked with the small plastic box to the bathroom and had a look in the mirror. I didn’t really look that different. The big hoodie hid my newly athletic front. The legs and feet looked strong, but who ever notices that? My big bulge in the compression pants was however a change from the past week that couldn’t easily be hidden. I opened the box and put the mouthguard into my mouth. It fit snugly and didn’t change my appearance much either. Not knowing what to do with the hoodie I put it up over my head and pulled it tighter with the drawstrings so all but my face was gone. Then I turned off all the lights and went to bed.

It was still dark when I woke up. Instantly I knew it had worked, because I couldn’t feel the mouthguard in my mouth, though it felt different. As if the ghost of the mouthguard was still there, prying my mouth open. I felt some sort of pressure on my head, as if I was wearing a hat or a beanie or something. I was about to feel my head when I realized moving my arm felt different. Not wanting to fuck around any longer I went straight to the bathroom again to have a look in the mirror. I stared at my reflection with open mouth. The difference was breathtaking.

First of all I wasn’t wearing any top, so my abs and pecs were on full display, but they were also bigger than before. Everything was bigger. My shoulders were much bigger, my entire upper body looked wider than before, and everything about the arms were huge. My face was still my face, but there were lots of small changes. “Fucking dope” I said with a much deeper voice than what I had before. I smiled a smirk and flexed the arms in different poses. I couldn't wait to show up at the gym doing an arm day. I just needed to have another shower. My dick needed service, and I felt sluggish, as if I hadn't really wakened up yet.

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