#i'm running out of juice with this series
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Do the Thing | Toilet Repair
logline; Today's itinerary: Fix the toilet, catch up with Syd, try not to cry when everyone asks you where you've been.
series history; Previous Chapter
portion; 7.1k+ (this shit got away from me man, idk what to say)
possible allergies; Negative self-talk (It's the Bear, babe, everyone's sad). I did no research on plumbing and am truly making it the fuck up-- I know for a fact I'm not using any word correctly and I simply will not be fixing it. Reader eats meat!! Specifically pork!! Your 'name' is 100% just Tony now.
pairing; Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto & Fem Reader (No pronouns, but 'handywoman' and 'Miss' are said. Plus a chest reference).
you ever start writing and you just cannot seem to find an end so you keep going forever? yeah.
“I think my name is just Tony now.”
You sip your overpriced orange juice. You really have to fucking savour it, now a days. That’s like 25 cents a sip, and Syd’s treating you to this breakfast outing, so it’s not even your own wallet on the line here.
“You lose all sense of identity, in a restaurant.” Syd straightens her back, mocking her very own mechanical movements of whenever she steps in a kitchen. “I am Chef.”
This diner isn’t more than two blocks down from The Bear. It was probably your second favourite spot in this neighbourhood. Probably still is. Sitting in the back corner booth (your favourite) with Syd is nice but distracting. She’s been updating you on everything since the catering scene and her botched credit, and you’re absorbing all of it, you swear, it’s just hard to not remember why this was your favourite booth.
Not because it’s seats are the least worn in, not because it’s got the right amount of sun through the window without blinding you, but because of the company you kept here. You’re trying to not notice your own name carved into the table. Especially since it’s not your handiwork.
You laugh at Syd’s joke on time, thank God. No awkward pause. “Yeah, you fuckin’ are. Head, right?”
She nods. “It’s cool. It’s like, vomit-worthy stressful but also…”
“You wish you were dead when you’re there, but you’d rather be dead than do anything else?”
“Yessir.” She nods again, digging further into her pancakes. “I really fucking owe you, by the way.”
“You’re paying me off through breakfast.” You wave her off. “Plus, I was available and it was like maaayybe 5 minutes of manual labour, it’s nothing.”
“Y’know what?” She hums, “I think actually, you owe me.”
“Yeah?” You grin.” Please, let me clear my debts, Syd?”
She smiles, pointing her fork at you. “You owe me the fuckin’ Beef background I’ve apparently not unlocked. Everyone was talking about you after.”
“Good things?”
“Vague things. Shit made me even more curious.”
You laugh. No shit they’d be vague. What can they say? “When my dad was running the repairmen gig, Cicero or Fak would call him in—”
“Oh fuck.” She snaps her fingers, seemingly in realization. “Your dad’s the connection!”
“The connection?”
“Fak said he had a connection for our fire safety test shit, and then said he didn’t—”
“Ah.” You nod knowingly. “Dad cut the cord on his business phone when it transferred to me, didn’t really keep people updated. Whoops.”
She nods, taking another bite of her pancakes, speaking mid-chew. “You could’ve saved our asses way faster, and I’ll-I'll never forgive you, but continue.”
Snickering, you continue, “Well, they’d call my dad in, and then my dad would call me in as his like, like his fuckin’ Sous of Repairs. And shit broke all the time at the Beef, as I’m sure you’re well aware, so I hung out around Mikey and everyone a lot.”
“Ah. N’ then…”
“He fuckin’ died.” You laugh, because there’s no way to say it smooth, so you might as well say it bad. You stretch out your arms and lean back in the booth. “I kinda took a step back, after that, so we didn’t manage to crossover ‘til now. S’ironic that you’re the one that brought me back instead of an oldie, honestly.”
She desperately wants to ask more about Mike, but she can tell now is not the time, so she just lets it lie and moves on. “You stopped being an EMT to take up the handyman shit, then?”
“Yessir.” You nod, finishing your straggling home fries. “Just kinda made sense to trade off, and I didn’t want to see the family bizz die. Do I have to occasionally pick up shifts bartending to make rent during slow months? Yes. But I also don’t watch people die anymore, so that’s a win.”
“In a way, you’re watching people die still, just slowly.”
You bite down hard to stifle any semblance of a smile or laughter, deadpanning, just to see her squirm in awkwardness for a moment. It works with flying colours, of course it does. It’s Syd. She’s still Syd. You speak at the same time.
“Cause of the alcohol?” “Cause—Cause of the alcohol.”
You both break into laughter, she throws her napkin at you. “Can’t stand you, oh my god. Let’s go clock in.”
She pays your bill before you can try to sneak your card in, which feels all too familiar, and you’re off.
Off to fix an exploded toilet.
“How the fuck do you fix an exploded toilet?”
Your hands rub over your face, lifting your safety goggles for a second. Too fucking foggy. Too fucking sweaty. Plumbing never really was your biggest strength. You’re staring at the bane of your existence, and it’s the latrine. How far we fall.
“You good, Cousin?” You hear from behind. You don’t need to turn to know it’s Richie in the doorway. It’s a fair question, you’re sitting criss-cross in front of a toilet, head in hands.
“Yeah, Cousin, I’m good.” Your words are muffled by your hands. Fully not cousins. For the record. You would argue you're not even that close, but he'd slap you upside the head. You turn to look at him over your shoulder. “Can you like, get me a pen and note pad? I need to like, strategize an attack.”
“It’s not that bad, Cousin—” “It’s that bad.” “Just tape the—” “Fuck off with the tape!”
You click your teeth, staring at the gurgling porcelain before you— At least it’s clean, it’s just fucked. “I shut the valve and it didn’t do shit. I think I have to remove it entirely so I can see what’s going on with the underground pipe.”
“Heard.” Richie and you both know that his hotfix handiwork has absolutely contributed to this penultimate mess you’re in now, but you’re both letting that go quietly for now. “You charge by hour or service?”
“Service flat rate and then after two hours it’s by hour.”
He hums, knocking his fist on the doorway a few times before walking away. “Pen and pad, Chef.”
“Not a Chef!”
“Term of Respect, Chef!”
You tap your leg incessantly, groaning like you’ve got an 80-year-old body as you stand to your feet. Richie’s grown a lot. He wears suits now. Hasn’t even poked at you for vanishing. Though you have a feeling it’s coming. If not from him, from someone.
You step out into the hall, leaned against the wall with your arms crossed as you wait for your pen and pad. And now you just have more time and a better view to take in how much has changed.
Gutted. A few walls gone. Makes sense, you told Mikey he was getting a mold problem. He never listened. Seats are new. The booths are the all-around style ones now. Ritzy. It’s too good for this neighbourhood. Is that a good thing? Yeah, right? Despite the fact that The Bear should feel out of place, you feel out of place being in it. Could you afford to eat here? Could the people who work here afford to eat here? Syd said she’s not getting paid for the next few months, so at the very least, the Head Chef can’t.
“Strange?” Tina sidles up to you on the wall, wiping her hands on her apron. Completely knocking you out of your dissociative fugue state.
“Yeah.” You nod, a little too quickly, that felt judgey, you correct, uncrossing your arms. “It’s daunting, I think; to see it all at once rather than slowly built in. Like, I know objectively this is very cool, but—”
Tina hums with understanding. “Feels gutted?”
“Was gutted.” You nod. “Doesn’t mean I don’t like it, it’s just, I dunno. Adjustment period, all that.”
“I needed a second too, but Jeff is good. Change has been good.” You nod like you know who Jeff is. “Carmen, I mean.” Your nod is now significantly more understanding. She smiles, you’re a little surprised to see Tina’s got a lot more insight than she used to. She pulled the thought of Carmen right out of your subconscious before you even detected it for yourself. “He’s good. You’ll see.”
You nod. You know the good she means is not Michelin Star Good. You already know that. He’s Mikey good. Person good. You clear your throat. “How’s Louis?”
“Good. Y’know, he’s getting to that age, getting in trouble. S’been a while since he’s had a good influence.” She nudges you. There it is. There’s the poke. The ‘where have you been?’ The ‘it’s been a year’. The— “Y’know, Chef didn’t come to the funeral neither.”
That one you didn’t expect, your head swivels to her hard. “Carmen didn’t go?”
His brother didn’t go? Oh, who the fuck are you to judge...
She nods, practically with her whole body, she looks more amused than anything. But like, mom amused. The worst amused. “You’re both the sensitive type.”
You cock your head at her, raising a brow. Smirking slightly. “Wow, Tina, I thought you changed too but you still talk your shit, eh?”
“I’m not talking shit!” She laughs, hands up in defence. “I’m just saying, you’re alike.” You hope that the laughter makes her forget the topic but it doesn’t.
“Where have you been?” She softens. She’s not asking to be mean, she’s asking out of concern. Why does that make it feel worse?
You tuck your hands in your pockets and retrain your eyes on hers, even if it feels bad. “Thought time and distance would heal all wounds.”
“Did they?”
Before you can answer, “Pen delivery, cousin!” Richie returns, triumphantly, with a pen and pad held high in the sky. He makes you jump for it. You elbow him in the gut, not hard. “Fuck off, Rich…” He keels over enough for you to grab it. “Thank you, chef.”
You turn back to Tina, who you now realize has spent half her smoke break on you. She nods to you, and then the bathroom door. “I’ll let you get back to it.” You nod in return. When she turns to walk away, you grab her shoulder.
“Tina.” She turns again. You should say something. Something vulnerable and thankful. Words of affirmation are not your thing. But maybe they could be, “If you end up with a dead plate—” Or maybe not.
She grins, and part of you is concerned by this, but she waves you off, giggling like she knows something you don’t. Already walking off. “You’re gonna be taken care of, Terry, don’t worry.”
This is a bad new nickname scheme. The fridge guy is just gonna end up being called ‘fridge guy’ if you take all his names.
It’s maybe three hours later. 11 am ish. You’ve finally put the toilet back in place, the pipes fixed underground— Which is a huge win of progress, the problem is, it’s just seemed to open the toilet’s ability to have other problems that need to be addressed. There’s a strong chance you’ll be here until you die. And even after that, this stupid toilet will still be gurgling, outliving you.
But you seriously have to eat something, so you scrub yourself clean, set your safety equipment down, and head out of the bathroom for a much-needed stretch of the legs— And to hopefully get a plate from Tina.
On your way to the kitchen, you’re stopped and walked backwards to a booth in the corner by Richie. “Hey, Miss, happy to serve you today, my name’s Richard but you can call me Richie, how’re you doin’ this fine morning?”
They’ve yet to open front of house, so you play along, taking your seat with a laugh. “I’m doing perfect, Richie, how are you?”
He nudges the air . “Ey, better now that you’re here, ah? Can I get a drink started for you?”
“Really gonna practice your set on me?”
He shrugs, still smiling. “If you don’t use it, you lose it.”
You hum, then rub your temples, the headache is setting in— Not cause of him, just been a tough morning. “Just your coldest fuckin’ glass of water, Rich.”
“Right away, Cousin.” He slips off into the kitchen.
When the door swings open again, it’s not Richie coming with your ice water, but Carmen— It’s your first time seeing him since the walk-in. When you came in this morning with Syd, it was Nat that gave you the quick briefing on the schedule and goals for today.
“Tony.” He hums, corners of his mouth just slightly upturned. The nickname has stuck. Goddamn. He sets the water down in front of you, along with a plate— Covered by a cloche—Or the silver lid thing, whatever.
“Carmy.” You only mean to mimic his tone, but then cringe. “Is Carmy fine?”
He pauses mid slide into the booth, sitting across from you. He seemed all cool and collected and is now suddenly extremely caught off guard. Already sweaty. “Y-yeah, I’m better, thank you—”
“No, I meant—” It is so difficult to hold back laughter. You deserve an Oscar.
You’re not doing great to be fair but like, still, Oscar worthy attempt.
“I meant like, like is the nickname okay?”
The horrors just keep piling on his face, and you can’t help but feel guilty. No shit he feels like he’s starting on a lower playing field here. You knew his dead brother, you know his Head Chef, your first time meeting him was at quite possibly his lowest moment and biggest mistake— Of which you had to coax him out of, and now he’s misunderstanding every innocent question you have for a inquiry into his psyche.
He clears his throat for objectively too long of a time. “Carmy is fine. Tony is fine?”
“I’m doing okay, yeah.”
Thank God, he laughs, awkward sure but objectively amused.
You nod down to the covered plate, smiling, “Fuck is this?”
He leans forward in his seat to get a hand over the lid. “I, uh. Made you a thing. As thanks or like, an— an apology.”
Ah. That’s why Tina was laughing about you getting taken care of.
He lifts the lid, and what is revealed, if you weren’t careful, would be enough to make you cry. Thankfully, the shock registers as uproarious laughter, one that Carmen cannot help but join.
“What the fuck?”
Pork brisket sandwich. Something that Mikey made for you, specifically. Because you said one time you were more of a pork fan than beef and he absolutely lost it. In a cute way, though. Said ‘Oh, I’ll make you fuckin’ pork, alright?’ You’re not sure if he won or lost the argument, because you did find it better.
“I, uh, we had some cuts left over that we weren’t gonna be able to fuckin’ use, and uh, Tina showed me this, this recipe card, last night.” He slides over the very same brisket recipe Mikey had written down. Little doodles of angry faces and Xs over pigs in the margins.
“He was so fuckin’ mad.” You snort, looking at it. “All I fuckin’ said was I had a preference!”
“In The Beef!”
“He asked!” You quickly defend, through laughter. “And it tastes fucking good. All he did was prove my fuckin’ point— And spent hours doing it. Were you here overnight for this, slowcooking?”
He shakes his head, though there’s a hesitation in it— So you’re not privy to completely believe him. He sniffs, swiping at his nose “I, uh, just came in early. Had to fix some shit anyways.”
He’s staring at the sandwich, then occasionally you, expectantly. You look at him with equal expectance.
“Well?” You start.
“Well?” He astutely adds.
You nod down at the dish. “Do the thing.”
“The thing?”
You pick up one half of the sandwich, but you’ve got no plans of eating until he satisfies this craving first.
“The thing Syd does where she explains why she’s proud of her dish and why I should care. I know it’s Mikey’s, but you clearly made changes.”
“Oh. Uh…” He was both expecting and not expecting this soap box. “So, followed the rub to a T— Well, with a salt bed, this time. Put it on brioche instead of the old shit. And I uh, added uhm—” He snaps his fingers, staring at the sandwich in your hand. “Added pickled red onion, for acid and sweet, and garlic confit. I’m—I’m happy with my spin on it.”
You whistle as a form of praise, he flushes with a glow of pride and is desperately trying to not show it. He’s proud because it’s curated, personal. Ah, he is Mikey good. You nod and take a bite, trying to control your reaction. Worst part about having Artists as friends (especially chefs): They fucking stare so hard when you’re taking in their work. And they’re over analyzing every micro expression. He’s no different.
Fuck. It’s fucking good. Is it bad that it’s better than anything Mikey ever made? Nah, that’s how he’d want it.
“Ah fuck, that sucks—” Is the first thing you say, and his face falls, “Expensive food is worth it.” Right back up. Easy to please. “It’s really good, Chef. Thank you. Did you try it yet?”
He shakes his head, so you push the plate with the other half of the sandwich— It’s brisket, anyways. You’ll be full by the end of this one. Portions generous. He looks momentarily hesitant, which is cute, but inevitably leans forward and takes the sandwich. He nods with each chew.
He hums when he finishes chewing, pointing emphatically at you, though his voice is neutral. “You don’t like something, though.”
“What?”
“What’s wrong with it?” He stares at into the cross section of his bite. “Chewy? Texture?”
“There’s nothing wrong with it.” You’re quick to deny.
He shakes his head, hand over his mouth to hide the sauce on his mouth. “M’not gonna be hurt.”
“There’s nothing wrong with the dish, Carmen.” You take another bite to prove your point. Also you’re hungry. Two things can be true.
He zones in on the emphasis immediately. “It’s the plate, isn’t it? I told Syd—”
“Your tables aren’t bolted.” You interrupt, swiftly. Mouth semi-full.
“Huh?”
You put your sandwich down and swallow, taking your time with it. “Your booth tables.”
You knock on the pristine wood with the joints of your left hand. You swivel your body to look under the table, he follows suit, meeting you there. His left leg has been violently shaking, but he’s thought you wouldn’t notice it until now.
You put a hand on his knee to stop the shaking. He bristles, slightly, but you’re not even doing it on purpose. Your focus isn’t on him. It was making the table imperceptibly shift— Which, of course, you clocked. You tap your foot to the bottom of the table leg. No screws. “They aren’t bolted down.”
You lift yourself back up, moving your hand back to yourself in tandem. He stares at it for a little longer. How you noticed that, he will never know. Repairmen are a different breed…
“I just thought it was a weird choice. Nothing wrong with it, per say. Maybe you wanna test different layouts.” You shrug, taking another bite.
“The booths aren’t bolted either.” He adds, lifting his head up above the table, finally. “I don’t— we’re not gonna fuck with the layout, I don’t think.”
“Should get Fak on that, then.”
“Fak’s big-timing us.” You cock your brow, mid chew. He explains. “He’s focusing on hosting, f'now.”
You nod, swallowing, hand in front of your mouth so you can lick the sauce off your upper lip in non-humiliated peace. “This another job for me, then?”
“If you’ll take it.”
“If your fuckin’ toilet doesn’t kill me, I will.”
“How’s that going?”
You shake your hand so-so. “Ask me in two to three hours how it’s going.”
“Heard.” He sighs, leaning back in the booth. The stress is too apparent not to ask.
“How’s the second day open going?”
“I’m not in a fuckin’ freezer, so that’s a win.” Oh-ho, he’s acknowledging it. You were very comfortable forgetting that moment for his sake. “Thanks, uh, f’ that.”
You shake your head, shrugging off the thanks. You lift your last few bites of the sandwich to him. “You’re good. You’ve gifted me brisket. You relax since?”
“Not really.” He replies bluntly, taking a deep inhale. He pulls at his face from the top down, with both hands. Oof. Bad sign. “I think I’ll be good by tomorrow. Gonna get off early, tonight.”
“You don’t seem happy about that.”
“Ask me in two t’ three days if I’m happy about it.”
Back to work and this is taking so much fucking longer than it needs to take. Why is there tape there? Fucking Richie. Fucking Fak. Fucking Mikey. Godssake. Pipes are fixed. Water pressure is fixed. What the fuck is still wrong with it? What the fuck is wrong with you? Everyone is going to hate you if you can’t fix this. You’ve been here for like 5 hours and you can’t figure out what’s fucking wrong here? You’re nothing. You’re—
The toilet does you the favour of knocking you out of your episode by spraying you in the fucking face, soaking through the top of your jumpsuit. With a groan, you unzip the upper half and tie the wet sleeves around your waist. “Son-of-a-bitch.”
Maybe you just need a change in task for a second. Also, a new t-shirt, because your tank did not survive the waterworks either. This room isn’t the thing you need right now. You slip down the hall to the kitchen. “Who needs a coffee? Or water?”
There’s a chorus of orders, all of which sound like you’ve just asked ‘who wants a gift from God?’, which, you might as well have. This is what you like about being a handyman. The relief you bring. You just need a smidge of praise to get through the rest of this job. You’ve got this.
The small, but serviceable coffee machine in very back of the kitchen calls your name, but Richie sticks his arm out, blocking you from walking past expo up front.
“Hol’ up, Cousin, you look like a fuckin’ wet dog.”
“Well, what ‘ya gonna do about it?” You retort, despite the retort not honestly making any sense, you put your hands on your hips. “Do you want a fuckin’ coffee or not?”
He rolls his eyes, falling back onto the balls of his feet before walking off. “Ey, Sug, are those shirts still in the basement—”
You’ve won for now. You scrub your hands clean before getting to work. This is good. Oooh, Marcus has fresh coffee beans (that he’s willing to share!)— This is easy. You can already fix most broken things, but a machine that actually fucking works? Baby, you can make that sing.
Plus, the bartending gigs you’ve done don’t make you a barista by any means, but they certainly don’t hurt. Oooh, Marcus has syrups! Fuck it. Steamed and frothed milk. That toilet has you on your ass, you need to go above and beyond here. Make each cup personal. You need a win in the form of admiration.
You gather a tray of coffees (and a water for Sweeps, who is too fucking sweaty for a hot drink right now, so fair), all varying in milks, sugars, syrups, intensity. “Coffee run, I hand ‘em out, don’t just take! Corner!”
Ebra, to no one’s shock, likes his coffee black— But, and he’ll tell no one this, you just know it on instinct— He likes it a little too watery. “Good.” Who are you to judge? He likes what he likes.
Tina would take hers black for simplicity, if you let her, but of course you don’t. 2 sugars, foamed milk, chocolate and cinnamon syrup. “Too good to me.” It’s too worth it, when she says it like that and slaps your cheek. Balm of the soul.
Marcus, who watched you make these, did opt to let his imagination run too wild and added one of every syrup to his own cup, wanting to experiment with you. It doesn’t taste good. You switch it for a spiced coffee when he’s not looking. He’s silently very thankful.
After handing out a few more to the new cooks, you come up to Syd. “Take this one, take this one.” Then whisper, so no one knows you are displaying supreme favouritism. “It’s the one oat milk latte I made.”
She turns to you from her station, then darts looks over her shoulder like she’s making an under the table deal before grabbing it from you. She takes a delighted sip, eyes rolling just slightly in the relief of caffeine, she nods. “Fire, Chef.” Ah. This will get you through the day alone.
It also gets you through the willpower it takes to ignore Fak running by you to steal a coffee off your tray. Out of the corner of your eye, you point to the one meant for him— As if you didn’t make it for him, c’mon…
“How’s bathroom?” Syd asks, taking another long sip.
I’m going to fucking explode, not unlike your drainage pipe. “Needed a thinking break, but I’ve made a lot of progress. How’s kitchen?”
“Made a lot of progress. Auto-piloting through this prep.” She looks down at her cutting board, cracking back to it. “Latte helps, a lot, thank you. You should join for family, if you’re still here for it. Unless you don’t want more brisket.”
Fuck. She doesn’t think you’re so slow that you’re gonna be here until family, does she? “Yeah, maybe.” You look around, three coffees still on the tray. “...Where’s Carmen?”
She grimaces. Uh oh. The tension she glossed over at breakfast is still definitely there. She nods her head to the back door. “Smoke break. Or temper tantrum. I don’t fuckin’ know. Don’t tell him I said that.” You laugh, nodding. “You think a coffee would help—” “Please.”
“Corner!” Yells Richie, returning to you. He silently flicks out a shirt for you, holding it up proudly, ‘THE BERF’ stares back at you. You give it a solid five seconds to process before you say anything.
“Collector’s item...” You nod, tone sarcastically impressed. You pivot your shoulder for him to throw it over, hands too busy.
“That’s what I fuckin’ said!” He throws it over your shoulder. “No one fuckin’ listens, these days.”
You bite back laughter and nod, handing him his coffee. Hot. Dark. Two sugars. And, to his delighted surprise, a touch of cinnamon syrup. “Oh, fuck, missed your twists, Chip.”
You wince at what was a long-forgotten nickname, and so does Richie. Funny how remembering origins can do that to you. He’d just said it so instinctively, really. “My bad—”
“Chip is good.” You interrupt, rolling your shoulders back. And it is good, really. “It’s kinda—It’s kinda comforting.” It’s nice to not forget. He nods, and you give each other the ‘we are still so fucked, eh?’ smile before lovingly bumping shoulders as he returns to expo and you head to the back alley.
Carmen’s squatting, cigarette in one hand, creating a halo of smoke around him, and his phone in the other. He snaps out of his mental fog when the door opens, slipping his phone into the pocket of his apron like he’s got a secret to hide.
You hesitate at the doorway, maybe this is not the moment. “Sorry, Chef, I just wanted to offer a coffee? If you need air alone—”
“No, no, I’m good—” He’s quick to correct, then even quicker to correct himself. “I— I’ll take a coffee, I mean. You can stay, s’fine.”
He reaches for it when you sit next to him, but you pull the tray back to hand him the correct one. “Sorry, I—I like, did a thing, for yours. I dunno how you take your coffee, so I thought I’d do it weird.”
He takes the cup, eying it curiously. “Do it weird?”
“Do it like, like a Chef. Can’t make anything fuckin’ simple. The lot of you.”
He hums, amused, staring at the cup, then looks at you expectantly. “Well?”
“Well?”
“Do the thing.”
You snort, shaking your head. “Oh, fuck off.”
“C’mon, tell me why I should care.” He teases.
“Ah, fuck.” You sniff, oh to have your own words turned on you. Looking at the coffee in his hands, “I figured you’d like strong black coffee, but like, complex. So, it’s got like, cardamom and lavender n’ maple syrup. Shout out Marcus.” He smiles. “And then, I know I did just say black coffee but I wanted the aesthetic so I spooned foamed milk on top and sprinkled on some dried lavender.” You take your own cup in hand, putting the tray down. “If you hate it, we’ll trade.”
He pays close attention to your explanation. Man, his eye contact is simultaneously so soft and so scary. He takes a sip. Let’s it sit in his mouth for a second. “Excellent, Chef.”
Oh, if Syd’s ‘Fire’ could get you through the day, Carmen’s ‘Excellent’ will get you through the week to spare. You hide the way you beam by drinking your own coffee.
“How’re you doing?” It’s far too obvious that he’s had something heavy on his head all day, but you’re not going to say the quiet part loud, yet.
He takes a long time to respond. “I, uh…” And when he does, it’s weak. “I’m alright, yeah. I’m alright.”
You nod repeatedly, digesting the huge lie. “Ask me how I’m doing.”
He squints. “…How’re you—”
“Fuckin’ terrible, Carm.” You cut him off, putting your cup down next to him, standing up. You speak emphatically, gesturing with your whole body.
“I’m at my wits, Chef. Completely out of my depth. I fix the main pipe, I fix the water pressure, I triple check the tank, I fuckin’ power cycle the valve— I’m absolutely at a loss as to why it’s still gurgling— Why it shot water straight at my tits— Close your eyes, if you care, by the way.”
With barely any warning you peel off your tank top, you’ve got a bra, it’s fine. It’s very cute that he still looks away. You slip the new shirt over your head as you speak, muffling the words.
“—I’m wearing a shirt that says Berf, and the only way I can feel any semblance of not being utterly useless is by making coffees so good everyone has to praise me for them. And now I’m telling the fucking owner, my boss for the day all this.”
He nods, slowly. There is perhaps, not a single person in his life that has ever been this forthright. Someone he hasn’t had to over-analyze or dig into to figure out what’s actually going on. It is refreshing, terrifying, and for some reason, removing your walls have completely shattered his.
“So.” You lower your head to his level where he sits. “How are you doing, Chef?”
He takes a long sip of his coffee. Stews on the question before he spills his guts, calmly. “I’m sitting outside of the restaurant I started that I own, and my brother should be here, but he’s not and— And I was locked in a fuckin’ freezer on my opening night, which was my own fuckin’ fault— And the tape is wrong and the painting is stupid and that new hire did meth so now we’re down one.” He takes a deep breath.
“And we have Heinz instead of Frenchies, and it’s fine. That’s the fucked part— It’s fine. The ship did not sink without me— It went fine. Better, maybe. My problems aren’t fuckin’ problems. I’m just making it worse for myself— everyone. And I know Syd is mad at me, and I know my— My girlfriend? Is mad at me, and I know that I’m gonna break up with her tonight because I’m not meant to be— that.” He says the last part fast, more to himself than you, really. And then he finally looks back up at you.
“And I’m telling all of this to the person who saved me from hypothermia and a fuckin’—Fuckin’ meltdown, who probably thinks— knows that I’m a psycho.”
You take a beat before nodding, sitting next to him again, arms crossed. Silent. Contemplative. “I have thoughts.”
He nods, taking a drag. “Don’t pull punches.”
“Well, to start most honestly, we must remember, I love Syd. So, I’m not gonna mince about her.”
“Heard.”
You recall everything Sydney had told you at breakfast. The recap of how she got to this point. “Syd isn’t mad at you, she’s disappointed and distrustful.”
He grimaces. “That sounds worse.”
“It is.”
“Oh.”
“But in a way you can fix.”
“How?”
“Handle shit different. Actually show up to shit and make calls. Manage your priorities by urgency— Not by favourites. If I broke my fuckin’ arm and your ‘girlfriend’ had a runny nose, who are you taking to the hospital?”
“You can’t take yourself?”
“Bitch?”
“Kidding. Heard. What else?”
“You’re not gonna tell her I said this because she would rather die than tell someone she wants something.” You lean closer to him, peeking over your shoulder to make sure no one’s secretly come from the kitchen. You knock into his knees.
He takes another drag, short, choked. “Sure.”
“You were kind of a bitch about the menu.”
“The chaos menu? She said—”
“She fucking lied. She lied when she said it was fine, Carm, it does not take a psychic to read Syd’s mind.” You interrupt, taking a sip of your coffee. “She was so excited to get to build a menu, especially with—” you, “—a partner, and then you completely ditched her. And then you just made your own! Total control freak shit! Cut her out of the fun part of being head chef completely! You get to invent masterpieces and she picks out the best cheap plate? Fuck is that?”
He nods contemplatively, poking his inner cheek. “Yeah, that, that makes sense. That’s shitty.” He turns his gaze from looking ahead to face you, hand over the bottom half of his face. “What else?”
“You’re reactive.”
“No shit.”
“How long do you think you were locked in the walk-in for?”
He swallows, thinking. “Like… an hour?”
“It had been 23 minutes.”
“Oh.”
“You catastrophize, it’s a fancy therapy word,” You cannot help but be impressed by this white man writing down the word in his phone for later. “It means, basically, when something bad happens you blow it completely out of proportion into something it isn’t. Your opening night was definitely a bummer from being in a freezer— But be honest with yourself, would you have let yourself have a good night if you weren’t in there?”
“…No.”
“No. Which is also bad. Which brings me to my key point.”
He tenses up, preparing for you to rip into him further.
“You’re doing a good job, Carmy.”
He immediately swivels back to you, almost dropping his phone. Knee knocking into yours. “Fuck off.”
“I will not.”
“You just said I was a catastrophe.”
“Fully not what I said.”
“I read between the lines.”
“Carmen.”
You take a breath, putting your arms on your knees, bent over. “The restaurant is beautiful, your cooks are talented and they’re prepared— So prepared that they can handle 23 minutes without you. That’s a good thing. You’re threaded into The Bear— The ship didn’t sink, not because you weren’t there, but because you had been. Everyone had the tools they needed to succeed, even with Heinz, a Mid painting, and torn tape. And listen—” You take one last sip of your coffee. “You need to check your ego if you think you’re the first man I’ve coaxed through a panic attack while doing a repair.”
He laughs, half-heartedly. He scratches his nose. “Heard. Yeah, thank you, Chef.”
“I don’t know shit about the meth thing though, I really couldn’t tell you.” You smile when this coaxes a better laugh out of him. You’re considering a career in stand up exclusively for him because it feels like such a reward to hear it.
“And the girl?” He asks. Amusement tinging but leaving his voice.
You click your teeth, shrugging your shoulders at him. “Based purely on your hesitation to say girlfriend, I’d say yeah, probably not ready for a relationship.” You reach your hand out to his shoulder when he flops his head down. “But, just asking, is this your first relationship?”
He thinks for too long before nodding slightly. “First one.”
“First restaurant too?”
He nods again.
“Yeah.” You pat his shoulder before letting it go, opting to hold your cooling cup. “I know you’re a Michelin star fuckin’ big deal but like, me personally, I can’t name a thing I got perfect the first time I did it.”
There’s something in his eyes, when you say that. Something wistful, nostalgic, hurt? No. Something different.
“It’s not that I didn’t do perfect—”
“You’ll do better next time.”
He wrings his hands together between his knees. “Yeah.”
“You’re gonna be fine, Carm.”
“You’re good at that.” He sniffs, head down, scratching his nose.
“At what? Self-help?”
He exhales what just barely sounds like a laugh. “Kinda. S’just, when you say it, you say it in a way where I actually believe it.”
You’re getting the fuck out of here before they open for dinner. You’re not letting anyone down tonight motherfucker. The Berf shall prevail. Maybe a win here will feel like a win for Carmen, too.
You run the sink to wash your hands, as you’ve done before here— But since fixing the pipes and the pressure… Something’s… different. You pause your scrubbing, listening closely.
…
When the sink is running, the gurgling flow of water from the toilet stops. Huh. You stop and start the faucet a few times to verify this. Yeah. You stare for a long moment before connecting the dots, then punch the sink in realization.
“Fucking Mikey!”
“What’d he do this time?”
You twist around. Ah, other sibling. Natalie. Clipboard in hand, business ready. You take a beat before remembering to smile, nodding to the sink behind you. “He connected the tank flow to the toilet and the sink with one wire.”
She tilts her head, squinting. “Why would he do that?”
“I suspect to save water?” You spin around, kneeling down to look behind the sink. “I think the idea was to have the sink not function when the toilet is flushing. But, it uh, well, did the reverse, kinda. Toilet doesn’t function when the sink isn’t running.”
“Oh.”
“So uh,” You shut the valve under the sink. “Your water bill should go down a little after this, since it won’t be running into what is an essentially a second trap pipe.”
“Oh!” Did she get what you said? No. But she doesn't need to. She heard ‘bill should go down’ and that’s really all she needed. “Thank you!”
“Not a problem. S’my job.” You stand, shutting off the valve to the toilet as well. As you kneel down to work again, you feel her gaze burning into your back. You don’t turn to face her. “You have questions.”
“Oh, ah… Am I so obvious—?”
“Yes.” You’re too quick to answer, unbolting the wires where it attaches to the toilet and the ground. You sniff with a panicked, “Ah, uh, it’s endearing.”
She’s quiet, for a moment. She doesn’t ask you what she actually wants to ask you, and you know that. “Well, I’ll need to exchange info for your invoice.”
“Ah, don’t worry ‘bout that, your brother already covered it.” You stand once more, before going to the sink to undo it’s valve, you fish through the deep pocket of your jumpsuit, pulling out a crumpled business card and handing it to her.
“But it’s good to have my info on hand, for sure. It’s ah… Kinda old.” Kinda is an understatement. Your dad’s name is still on it, scribbled out in pen and replaced with yours. The dead business line is also scribbled out in exchange for your personal cell.
“It’s uh… I usually only work for friends and family, these days, so I’ve kinda stopped trying to keep up appearances.”
She smiles at it. Thank God, she finds it charming and not sloppy. She tucks it into the clasp of her clipboard. “That’s fine, we are friends and family.”
All you can do is nod, pivoting to the sink. There's a beat of peace.
“Didn’t see you at the funeral.”
Ah. There it is. For a Bear, she sure knows how to poke one. You stutter in unscrewing the bolt.
“Would’ve been nice to meet you, then.”
You clear your throat, it's strangled. “Yeah, I think I was trying to avoid introductions, honestly. Grief comes in different ways, eh?”
“Does it?”
“Mine does.” You swallow, unbolting the wire. With it free, you can just yank it out of the wall. God, forgive your brain, but Mikey was right, she does like to fight. Too bad you don’t.
She just hums in reply, watching you pull the wire from the wall. “You’re a real lifesaver.”
Fuck. Fuck. Lifesaver? Is she fucking with you?
“That toilet sprayed me right in the face, yesterday. And you saved Carmen.” There’s an amused lilt to her voice. She’s not fucking with you. “There’s something about a handywoman that Fak cannot match.”
You can hear a faint ‘Hey!’ through the walls. You laugh through an exhale.
“Again, s’my job. I do my best. Did uh, what was it, Terry come by for the walk-in? I wasn’t looking when I was there.”
You sort through your tools, deciding caulking the holes closed is probably the best option.
“He came over basically overnight to fix it, bless him, still don’t know his name.”
You laugh, it’s a little strangled. So Carmen did stay overnight. He must’ve. You smooth out the caulk with your thumb and a palette knife. Blending it into the grout as best as you can. “Good. Good.”
You dust yourself off. Standing. “Well. That’s uh. That’s my job done. Carmen asked me about—”
“Bolting down the booths?” She nods, checking the time on her watch. There’s not enough time before lunch to do it now. Plus you don’t have the screws. “You’re free to come by in the morning tomorrow—”
“But?” You interrupt, throwing your tool bag over your shoulder.
“But?”
“You said free like you’ve got a preference, what do you prefer?”
She chuckles, slightly. There is something about you that feels familiar. “If you could come after close tonight around 12, that would be nice—”
“It’s done. I’ll be there.”
“Lifesaver. I'll give you the code.”
Fuck.
Always gotta give the reader/mc some sort of mysterious background that even you don't have all the info on. Always.
Hehehehe, again, we're slowing this burn so much. Strangers to Friends to lovers but they're both so comfortable in friends it's hard to move !!
Forewarning, btw, if you've already sunk 10k worth of words into your brain for me (thank you!! I hope you've enjoyed!!), I've never written smut before and I feel like I probably will not build up the courage to do so by the end of this series, but I could prove myself wrong, I dunno. But warning in case that's your thing!! I might blue ball you babe!!
Pretty please tell me your thoughts or I'll eat my Berf shirt. Collector's value!! Thrown away!!
Next Part
#carmen berzatto imagine#carmy berzatto#carmy x reader#carmen x reader#carmen berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto x you#carmen berzatto#the bear fx#carmy the bear#the bear x you#the bear#the bear x reader#the bear fanfiction
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Day 11!
Riding home at night from my grandparent's house while playing new games my ds was the peak holiday experience.
#espy art#beecember#no snow here because we don't get that stuff here#it's cold outside i promise#and it's colder than you'd think too#i'm running out of juice with this series#and idk i think i misstimed something#cause i thought stuff was supposed to align better#i thought if i drew 12 the last one would post on the 24th#but it's mathing out that the last one's a day early#i double checked everything so i think it's just me being bad at math#so idk might draw a special 13th#but i might not#ive got a lot of other stuff that needs to be done
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adding up all instalments of wereroomies there's 100k+ words of that world so far
further proof that i just can't seem to shut up
#those are a lot of words#i treat each instalment as a separate thing but still#soon it'll be longer than the only real chaptered series i've written#which is crazy to think#and there's still that jisung piece i want to write#and i might be thinking of a jeongin one...... but i'm not convinced on it yet#plus if at some point i want to expand on any particular storyline/couple i will#i wonder when my brain juices for wereroomies will run out#🌙
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i've started putting down scene ideas for my series and i'm really liking where it's going so far :') v excited to get more into this and share it with you guys!!
#not anytime soon god knows how slow i am at writing shcjskdjdks#but i'm excited!!!#also to those who sent in requests!!! i'm sorry i haven't gotten to them but i rlly got into my series so i'll get to it when i run out#of creative juices#she speaks
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Mini Lando
Request: Don’t know if you’re taking request but the pictures of lando with the kid😩😩😩. Imagine lando and him matching and sitting in the car together and he wants to be just like his dad. And baby lando tries to protect his momma just like dad does. Lando goes full papa bear on anyone who even thinks of looking at his little family funny like I’m emotional thank you
Words: 1.3K
Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff, Dad!Lando with Baby!Lando
A/N: I'm tying this in with this headcannon I did because it's too cute. Also I'm glad this was my first fic back, I've missed it
Mini Lando Series Masterlist / New Addition
"Aiden, you have to be good today. Understand?" You ask your toddler. Today was the Silverstone GP and Aiden was joining the both of you for the race.
"Yes mummy, I'll be good for you and Daddy." Aiden giggles having always been a good boy, and he knows if he's extra good he'll get to visit Uncle Los and Uncle Chacha.
"Come on, I've got something for you." You pick Aiden up, as Lando was still asleep able to finally sleep in. It was hard work, but you were able to get a special suit from McLaren, who was all to happy to do it.
Keep reading
Getting him dressed, Aiden couldn't contain his excitement, putting it on. "Mummy, I'm Daddy." He stares at awe, seeing himself in the mirror.
While getting Aiden ready, Lando had woken and was pouring himself a glass of orange juice, still hating coffee to this day. Aiden hearing movement in the kitchen rushes out, before you could stop him.
"Daddy! Loooook!" Lando flinches at Aiden's scream, rubbing his eyes he sees a flash of orange. Aiden stands right at Lando's feet giving this big grin.
Blinking sleep away, it takes Lando a second to take in what he was seeing. Hearing you walk in he looks at you, then his little boy, then back at you.
"I want another." Lando says which has you gawking at his statement. "Lando Norris!" You shriek rushing to cover Aiden's ears who just giggles, jumping up and down.
"What?! Can you blame me! He's dressed as me, giving me those big eyes, you basically put a huge "I want another baby Lando" child in front of me, this is your fault." You glare at him as he rolls his eyes crouching down.
"Look at my little boy, are you dressed as Daddy today? Trying to take my seat hmm?" He asks as Aiden bounces around nodding. "I'm going to be Daddy today, Mummy said I could. Does that mean I get to ride with you?" Aiden asks running around as Lando drinks his juice.
Lando always made you take a sperate car, so the media wouldn't get to rowdy, and you always had security around you so no one could hurt his wife and child.
"I don't know buddy. It's my home race, means lots of cameras." Aiden stops and kicks the carpet, he was a mini Lando. Hated being in the spotlight and was shy around those he didn't know.
"I'll be okay! I'll be protecting Mummy anyways! Like you!" Aiden pointed to the LN logo on his little suit, Lando feeling his heart burst with love.
"I want another one." Which has him yelping when you slap him on the back of the head, but you smile. "Baby, come here." You bend down as Aiden runs, hugging you when he reaches you.
"You'll get to ride with Daddy, and I'll be there too, but you have to promise, be good. If Daddy tell you something, you have to listen understand?" Aiden nods as he runs off to play with his toys before you all leave.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------———-------------------------------------------------------------------------
Lando has Aiden sitting next to him, Aiden leaning into his father still dressed in his little suit, you sneak a few pictures. Lando keeps his arm around his son, worry laced on his face.
"Lando." You whisper pulling your husband's attention to you. "It's going to be okay. We're safe with you." Reaching over you place your hand on his knee, smiling at the comfort. "Aiden, sugar. We're here." Lando whispers waking the toddler.
"Give us a few, to let him wake." Lando tells you, to which you nod letting Aiden wake fully.
Fully awake, Aiden tries to open the door, saying that since Daddy can do it, so can he. Lando shakes his head, but helps him without Aiden noticing. The walk to the entrance was quiet, but as you got closer the crowd grew.
"Mummy." Your pant leg is tugged, seeing Aiden stop as he stares at the crowd of people yelling and taking pictures. "What's wrong little one?" Aiden looks between you and his Daddy, as Lando stands protectively in front of you two, hoping the cameras don't catch you just yet.
"Nothing, mummy. I'm strong, like daddy." You smile, but grab his hand making sure nothing would happen to your baby. "Let's go." Lando grumbles.
The moment one camera notices they all notice you 3, of course they all get far to close. One even shoves into you, something Lando can't see trying to keep them from squashing his little boy.
"HEY! Don't push my Mummy!" Aiden shoves the leg of the camera guy which has everyone stopping as they look down at the little boy shaking with tears in his eyes.
They all start to laugh, but stop when Lando snaps. "Get the fuck away from my family! RIGHT NOW!" Lando seethes, moving to pick Aiden up, holding him close.
You follow behind as Lando gets safely away from the cameras before setting Aiden down. "Hey....hey baby, what's wrong? Did they hurt you?" Lando going over every inch of his son, worry gripping his heart tight.
"They hurt mummy, one of them pushed mummy." Aiden's cheeks are red, it happened when he's angry. Fat tears roll down his cheeks as he starts to hiccup. "You always protect Mummy, and I couldn't." He cries rubbing his eyes.
Lando swears he feels his heart be ripped to shreds seeing his little baby like this. "Hey, hey. Aiden, don't cry alright. Mummy is okay, see and you did a great job protecting her. You let me know something was wrong. I'm so proud of you." Lando smiles wiping his sons tears away, taking off his hat and placing it on Aiden's head.
"Now you are like Daddy." Lando praises, making Aiden giggle. "How about I take you to visit your 2nd favorite person." Aiden looks up growing happy again as he starts to bounce.
"Uncle Los, Uncle Los, Uncle Los!" You roll your eyes, your sons attachment to his uncle was insane. Almost like beetlejuice, Carlos comes waltzing in.
"Aiden look." Pointing to Carlos as Aiden screams high pitched causing everyone to look, even Carlos. "UNCLE LOS!" Aiden screams running full force. Carlos laugh scooping up Aiden, who stares at the race suit.
"Don't even." Lando glares. "I didn't say anything." Carlos argues. "You're going to get him a mini Ferrari suit." Lando accuses and judging from the way Carlos looks away, Lando was right.
"Hello, Carlos." You smile as you kiss each other on the cheek. Aiden's tears gone, as he wiggles in Carlos's arms. "Uncle Los, I'm Daddy." Aiden point to the hat, Lando smirking proud of Aiden.
"That you are. Exact copy. Both toddlers." "HEY!" Lando yells grabbing Aiden and holding him close. "Insult the Norris's and you get no snuggles. Revoking your god-father duties." Walking away Aiden pouts.
"He's being protective again." Carlos groans hearing that, ever since Aiden was born, Lando didn't trust anyone to hold his son other than you two. Took a while for him to even trust Max and Charles to watch Aiden.
"Aiden protected me from a media dude that shoved me. Lando freaked when Aiden yelled for the guy to get away from me." You explain as you follow Lando who stops and lets McLaren Admin take pictures.
"On another note, you know he's going to want another kid right?" You groan which has Carlos laughing. You stop seeing as your two boys pose. Getting to the garage Lando has to change, wearing the same exact suit.
You smile watching the way Aiden lights up seeing his Daddy dressed like him. Yeah, maybe another one wouldn't be a bad idea
#f1#formula 1#f1 fandom#f1 x reader#f1 x y/n#f1 imagine#formula one#f1 scenario#lando norris#lando x reader#lando imagine#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#lando norris fluff#f1 fanfic#f1 fluff#f1 x you#formula 1 x reader
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...I need a sta.r wars blog
#orion rambles#sorry for the spam#i have unfortunately hyperfixated on a franchise owned by the mouse 😔#I could just make my tf blog a gen scifi blog but that feels a lil iffy to my brain idk#bit i don't have the braincells to come up with yet another fandom sideblog @#I've run out of juice because I'm on fandom number 6/7-ish on here#i have not and refuse to finish the sequel series but the c.lone wars rly got to me#the inherent tragedy of being born and raised for war. accelerated aging of child soldiers and the themes of brotherhood & personhood#grabbed me by the neck#so here we are
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BBR thoughts 2024
Since I mentioned that I finally dusted off an old project of mine and was ruminating on how I'd remake it, I thought I'd elaborate a little, now that I've solidified some concepts. For funsies
This is gonna be a bit of a long and unfocused one, but I don't share my personal thoughts here often, especially the stuff about my projects I always marinate in. And for once it's something that people have existing context for, so hey why not
So for anyone who hasn't been following me for a gajillion years, The Black Brick Road of OZ was a webcomic that I posted around 2013-2015, back when I was in highschool going on college (which is kinda crazy to think about). It was sort of a darker twist on The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, although I definitely leaned a lot more into dark humor more than anything in those first few chapters
I don't think it's available to read anywhere anymore, and I know people have been asking me about it. So here's the full proper archive of BBR, as full as it can be with deceased Flash
I totally used it as an excuse to shamelessly and self-indulgently experiment. It had interactive pages and GIFs and was wayyy too overproduced for what I could handle or what was necessary, but I did have great fun making it while it lasted
Unfortunately, that excess and the fact that I've changed too much as a person by the time I was in college is what ultimately killed it. The direction I wanted to go in was practically unrecognizable from the original idea started back in 2011, so there were many old hold-ups that I felt ruined it
At the time I kinda wished I could start/rewrite it all over, but considering that I pretty much had the entire script done at that point, it felt like a pointless sisyphean task. So I just put it on a shelf and didn't look back for about 8 years, because I didn't know what else to do
Now to be fair, the nature of my art has always been iterative and cyclical; when I feel like my creative juices have run dry I prefer to leave a project to marinate and move on to something else; cycle through other old things and bring in new skills and perspectives into the mix when I'm ready again. Not very productive, but it is what makes me happy to work on my OCs; I'm doomed to hit a wall with them eventually and I need some time to be able to find a new direction
So that said, I'm glad that BBR was left to marinate for that long. I don't think I was prepared, emotionally or intellectually, to tackle it again until now. The Wizard of Oz book (and the entire series of them, really) has always been near and dear to my heart, but there's a lot of context around it that I'm only unpacking now that I'm older
I think I always inherently feel negatively about the stuff I've made in the past, like its faults always jump out to me more than the positives, especially the more time passes. I've never liked that, and I do really appreciate the kind things people have to say about BBR to this day. The fact that it still can be recognized and remembered is very sweet
When I left it, I already found it "kinda cringe", and that feeling only deepened with years. When I took my first look back at it, asking the question "how would I rewrite it now?", at first I took a very cynical approach, as in "everything would have to be torn down"
But the more I sat on it, the more I found that I still see some merit and charm in the ideas I was putting out; I just didn't know how to execute them at the time (not to pretend that I know what I'm doing now, but I certainly know more at least). Turns out a lot of my old concepts could be changed substantially with just a few small tweaks. So I'd say that's a nicer way to think about my previous work
If you haven't seen yet, I posted a first draft of my new designs for some of the characters (the main group, the Goods and the Wickeds). Definitely subject to change, but more or less how I see them now
I'm just playing with these concepts; by no means would I attempt to remake BBR right this moment. Call it a pipe dream among my other ones. But just for fun, this is the direction I'd like to take:
Nowadays I'd probably make it a visual novel, with more emphasis on the visual part than the novel because I'm no English prose writer by any means. It'd still let me play a little with the interactivity while helping cut some corners on the drawing part (only some, I imagine I'd go hog wild anyway)
I've always intended for some events inspired by the sequel books to take place in BBR's past. Stuff like Jinjur's revolt or Ozma's rule preceeds the main events here. So I think it would be fun to follow the past of a few key characters alongside the main story. One chapter focusing on the present quest to see the Wizard, then one focusing on the past events (that are maybe reflective thematically); rinse and repeat
I'm also sticking a little closer to the original text in some regards. Not everything that I enjoy from the books would be translated here, it's still just a very loose fantasy on the material; but I'd like to be closer in spirit at least
I like mature, wise and powerful Glinda, I like kind and vulnerable Tin Man, I like the Wizard being a pathetic yet loveable liar, so I'm sprinkling in more of that for example
I'd like to keep some whimsy, but make it more grounded and a bit more serious to be coherent in tone. I think the original TWWOOZ book was a more realistic fantasy in some ways, even for the standards of the time; I like its simple but vivid tactile descriptions and details like bringing attention that Dorothy needed to eat and sleep
I find it funny that Baum specifically was averse to making his books scary or unpleasant, finding that unnecessary for telling a compelling kids story, but they still can get pretty dark and disturbing, at least for our modern sensibilities. Let's just say that I intend to use the Evoldo and Chopfyt storylines for my purposes. In that way, I feel like a "darker" Wizard of Oz retelling can still mostly be tonally in line with the original and balance it with enough heart and occasional humor
I slowly grew to appreciate the quaint old-timey quality of the original series, as well. The first book is both timeless and very much a product of the 1900s. Originally I tried to give it a little modern or at least anachronistic spin, but it was moreso because it's what I knew best, so these days I'd rather intentionally lean into the time period. Still not fully historically accurate by any means, but at least directly acknowledging the influence
The events of the story span across 40 years of these characters' lives, so I'm drawing inspiration from the entire so-called La Belle Epoque: the time period around 1880s-1920s. Basically I'm cooking, and my soup is old Victorian fashion morphing into Edwardian fashion and slowly inching towards flappers
Some new Dolly outfits
Lots of crazy things, political changes and innovations were happening at the turn of the century, which I think is noted and reflected by Baum in the books as well; the character of Tik-Tok might not blow any minds now, but he was one of the first robot characters in literature at that point; and don't even get me started on Jinjur, etc. Plenty of really interesting stuff one could lightly ponder in an Oz adaptation these days
Aesthetically, art nouveau has always been a big artistic influence for me, and it'd definitely be its time to shine here. John R. Neill's illustrations of the Oz books often keep me company as well. Nouveau architecture in particular fits that fairytale whimsy extremely well imo
I'd allow myself a little bit of art deco here and there, but ultimately its intimidating geometrical splendor is an antithetical to the flowery nature of nouveau and I associate it with a completely different era. Definitely fitting some characters like my Wicked Witch of the West, but shouldn't be overused
One of my main problems with the original BBR was that eventually I lost track of what it was even about; and the original ending felt too mean and unfulfilling to be worth it. Now I'd like to stick to the theme of home and family as my main theme, but in a different, more bittersweet way than in the book
An interesting connection I made is that a lot of my aforementioned older key characters (the Witches, Jinjur, the Nome King, etc) all came from the same reformatory as kids, that's how they know each other. In my recent research I learned that in those reformatories it was usually frowned upon to release the children back to the families, which were seen as the original corrupting influence regardless of the circumstance. The reformatory did everything in its power to cut that connection and make itself the only family those wayward kids were supposed to know and love. That's an unexpected tie into the theme of home that I'd like to explore as well
So yeah that's the current state of it. I have a bunch of outfit concepts I'm slowly cooking, although I'm now sure whether I'd post them... But I do miss these funny guys, and I'm glad some people still do as well :)
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OKAY SO what with the TWO new Hermits implied by the updated banner I will say that, though the Skizz truthers have me convinced, I now have room to do my own crazy red string monologue and throw my hat in for my choice
1) Mythical J. Sausage (the J is silent) is a multitalented S-tier builder that absolutely deserves to be shoulder to shoulder with the Hermits. The man does buildings, interiors, terraforming, custom trees, and he does them SO WELL.
2) The production values!!! Beautiful replay mod sequences with shifting camera perspectives, shaders, music that sets the tone for each segment that's different from series to series. He already has more than a million followers on YouTube and for good reason!!
3) He has been SO consistent lately. He started a hardcore world about three months ago (about the time you might expect the Hermits to finalize their s10 choices maybe...???) and already has 15 episodes and hasn't gotten involved in any other big content. (He did just start playing a little of the BCG server but from what I understand that's super casual /copium copium copium).
4) That hardcore world is conveniently about to reach a good "pause" point. He started his world on a cherry blossom biome island that he's filled with a medieval village and starter farms, he's said it's almost full and what's left is the castle. I'm guessing the new season will start the first week of February, so if Sausage puts out a video this week building out that Castle and finishing that island it will be MIGHTY CONVENIENT TIMING.
5) This man can GRIND. His Hardcore world hasn't even been going half a year and he's built... So much??? Magnificent! And when he was on the Hermitcraft server he did the Razorcrest for scar AND the player head baby yoda/stormtrooper merch AND the noteblock themesong AND still built in the xmas village and other "diamond of peace" and so many other shenanigans. Did the man even sleep? He can grind with the best of them.
6) He can do redstone, too! Maybe not unique designs, I honestly don't know, but he builds farms for build materials no problem.
7) The DRAMA this man loves his improv and his backstory and trauma lore! For every series he does! Can you imagine if he gets to interact with Ren for an extended period of time, what that would do to them, to us?? Give Martyn a run for his money!!
8) Which brings me to my next point, which is that Sausage is already One of The Gang, because he's been in series with so many of the Hermits already! Empires and the crossover, obviously, but also Pirates with Cleo and Origins with Scar, and he's even done MCC! Joel is the only other player with the same depth of different series but there are other people truthing him already.
9) The EPIC BROMANCE with Pearl. My god the devotion of this man to his sunflower goddess bestie. I would try to do ot justice but y'all have seen floweroflaurelins work, you already know.
10) He's already a PG streamer but with HILARIOUSLY PG-13 tendencies. Imagine him and Cleo cracking each other up at an HHH stream, *grips your shoulders* IMAGINE IT.
11) Sausage comes with his own mascot in the form of interdimensional dog extraordinaire Bubbles, but he's also just an animal lover on general. Mans drinks his "I love Jellie" juice and had her in his world even before the sad news of her loss.
12) Diversity win! No one should be hired just for their gender, race, sexuality etc etc unless it's truly necessary to the job, but we were all happy when more women got added to the server in s8 and I know a lot of people would be happy to see some ethnic diversity added, too.
... That bulletin board had a lot more pins in it than I thought it did but anyway MYTHICALSAUSAGE TRUTHERS/ALL OTHER TRUTHERS RISE UP SPEAK YOUR TRUTH! we'll only get to wildly speculate for a few weeks so we might as well make it everyone else's problem ENJOY IT TO THE FULLEST!!
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Headcanon request of how the dorm leaders (with kalim replaced w/ jamil if possible) would react to their crush accidentally taking a love potion and acting extra affectionate to them?
Oh I love this so much! There are a few hcs out there about similar situations and they're ALWAYS my favourite to read! I'm so glad I finally got to write some on my own! I hope you enjoy!!!
Warning: slightly suggestive at times.
P.s. the love potion doubles as a truth potion. You'll see what I mean! I've left off on a somewhat open ending, so do tell if you'd like a p2!
Of course you were going to be partners with Ace of all people in Potions. The almost apologetic look, which professor Crewel sent you wasn't really helping you feel any less like a martyr. Any less... patronised. But what were you to do, rather than accept your fate gracefully and see where that takes you.
The potion, which was to be made was a truth potion. It was simple, really. Few ingredients, fewer steps. And it looked exactly like in the picture, only a little less orange and a little more pink. But that was normal, right?
Only it wasn't a truth potion. And Ace decided to put it in a water bottle. The same water bottle as yours. Why? To hide the fact that it was slightly pinker, than orange. Did Crewel buy it? No. But you? You did. One misplaced bottle, an unsuspecting MC and a series of unfortunate events.
When did your juice taste so unbelievably sweet?
"Oh no..."
Riddle was perfectly unsuspecting, going about his day, preparing for an unbirthday party, when he saw Ace practically dragging you to him. The moment you laid eyes on Riddle, a dopey smile appeared on your face.
He is confused ™️. You slipped Ace's grip and threw yourself on him, wrapping your arms around his neck, practically hanging off him. "Riddle, the love of my life, I missed you so much, my heart can't beat when you're not around me."
Riddle's face turned 50 shades of red at that exact moment. He turned to Ace for an explanation, feeling embarrassment stir in his heart. And why did you sound like Rook?!
"LOVE POTION. WILL WEAR OUT, BYE " Aaaaand he was gone. Riddle was about to yell after him, when you grabbed his face, looking deep into his eyes. "Riddle, you're so pretty today."
His heart skipped a beat. In fact, it skipped a few too many beats. "Prefect, please. You're under the influence of a potion." He cleared his throat, trying to calm himself.
"But the potion only shows my true feelings for you! I've always loved you!" You smiled at him, running your fingers through his hair.
"T-then... Let's speak about this after the potion wears off, okay?" He asked, reluctantly patting you on the shoulder. (Smooth. V smooth.) "Fine, but only if you stay with me. I want to spend time with you!"
"I will. Until you recover and then some."
He could hear your footsteps, approaching his napping spot in the botanical gardens, so he already knew you were coming before you called out to him. "Leona!" And there it was, your sing-song voice, much cheerier than usual.
He lazily opened one eye as to acknowledge your existence. He expected you to sit down and tell him of whatever wacky shenanigans you'd got into. What he didn't expect was for you to climb into his lap, smothering him in a hug. Was he flustered? Yes. Was he about to show it? Hell no.
"Damn, what has gotten into you today, herbivore? You're unusually... annoying."
No. No, do not give him the puppy eyes, he can't take it. Oh god. "I just wanted to come see you! Mmm, you smell so good." You whispered, shoving your face into the crook of his neck. The whole position you two were in was quite...the sight. A growl escaped him, before he pushed you back, to look you in the eyes. Were your pupils... Hearts?!
"What the fuck has happened to you? Did you ingest something you shouldn't?" Now that he thought about it, your breath did smell sweeter, no, all of you smelled sweeter. He was perceptive, terrifyingly so. In fact he was pretty sure a love potion was responsible for your actions. You seemed drunk (off of him).
"Fuck, get off, we gotta go to the infirmary, or better yet - to Crewel, to brew an antidote.
"But- maybe I like being like this. At least I'm bold enough to show you how much I love you like this!"
....wait what?
He was about to have a very long chat with you once all of this was resolved.
Azul was finishing up the preparation for a new FRESH BATCH of contracts, when a knock on the door interrupted him. In came Jade, followed by you - a very giddy-looking you.
"My apologies, they insisted they had to see you." With those words, Jade left the vicinity, knowing fully well what was about to go down (because of course the fucker knew you weren't being fully yourself. He was also acutely aware of Azul's growing infatuation with you.)
"Azul, I come with a proposition. Let's form a relationship contract, where we both get all benefits of being a couple!" You moved behind his desk, grabbing his hand. "It's a limited time offer. Sealed with a kiss!"
Azul was: Flustered. Flabbergasted. Bamboozled. Floored. Gone. Out of the stratosphere. He was torn between running away to his octopot and smootly answering by presenting a contract, ready-made for the occasion. (Which he totally had.)
"M-MC. This is rather sudden of you-" he started, fixing his glasses. "I did not expect...such a proposition." Not that he would complain.
You moved closer to him, wrapping your other arm around his neck. "Well, what do you say? Do we have a deal?" Those eyes of yours were piercing through his very heart, unnaturally so... Suspiciously unnaturally.
"MC, if you may, could you perhaps wait until I've... finished writing down the logistics of such a contract?"
Your smile widened and he swore he felt Cupid's arrow pierce through him. "Of course, for you I'd wait a lifetime, my handsome octopus~"
You were never THIS bold with him. He had to investigate further.
Jamil had just finished basketball practice, when he bumped into you. Or more so, you bumped into him. Immediately, you threw your arms around his neck, bringing him down to leave a kiss on his cheek. "Hey, Jamil~ Fancy seeing you here."
What in the Sevens' name-
He felt blood rush to his face at an alarming rate. Looking away, he pushed you back to create some distance between you two. "What has gotten into you?!" He asked, exasperated, still keeping you at arm's length. He was NOT prepared for his crush doing that out of nowhere.
"I'm just greeting you, silly! I passed by the gym, figured I'd say hi~"
"Okay. Hi. What do you want? You can't just...go around doing that." He did not have time to deal with whatever this is, he figured it was most probably a prank of some kind.
"What makes you think I go around kissing people. I only want to kiss you!" You smiled at him so lovingly, he could barely keep his knees from buckling. This was quickly becoming very overwhelming for him.
"Where is...all of this coming from, exactly? Are you fever-striken or something?" He lay a hand on your forehead, y'know, just checking.
"It's not a fever, Jamil. I'm just reaaaaally into you!"
"Stop joking around about this."
"I'm serious!" You grabbed his hand, laying it over your heart. His eyes narrowed. It's not like he didn't believe you, but this was far too sudden and you seemed far too..out of it of sorts. His sixth sense was screaming at him. He considered cornering Ace after taking you home. He already seemed pretty fidgety during practice.
"Okay. Look. Let's talk about this over coffee tomorrow, alright? My treat."
"Oooh, so a date, then?"
"Yes... a date. Now let me walk you back to Ramshackle."
The moment you saw Ace's horrified expression, you knew there was only one person you could turn to - Vil. He could surely help brew an antidote. As fast as possible you made your way to Pomefiore, worried about what the potion might do to you. However, the moment you laid eyes on him, you felt your own emotions overwhelm you.
"Vil!"
He was in the lounge, scolding conversing with Epel. The moment your eyes met, the most lovestruck of smiles crawled on your face. "Ah, I'm so happy to see you. I missed you greatly!" You walked over to him, a slight skip in your step. Vil merely raised an eyebrow.
"What are you doing here, potato? Unannounced, and you look like you've run here." He dismissed Epel, mumbling how he'll 'deal with him later', instead turning his attention fully to you.
"I came to ask for help, I accidentally ingested a potion. But now that I'm here-" you moved to link your arm with his. "I could maybe spend some time with you? We haven't seen each other in nearly a week, handsome." You winked at him.
"Potato, as much as I enjoy spending time with you, you can't ju- wait. What potion???" He grabed you by the shoulders. "How did it happen?!"
You smiled at him, reaching out to gently grasp a strand of his hair and twirl it. "It was supposed to be a truth potion, but something went wrong. Ace put it in a water bottle and I drank it. But I feel perfectly fine, especially now that I'm here. Ah, somehow I never get the chance to tell you how much you truly mean to me. And I mean it romantically."
He nearly lost his cool. Hiding his frazzled state behind a dainty cough, clearly fake, not that there was anybody around to call him out, a deep sigh escaped his lips. "You probably added too much chicory root and turned it into a love potion."
You frowned. "But my feelings are very real. I could just never tell you before. Do you.. not return them?"
"Pota- MC, let me brew you an antidote, and then I'll give you my answer, okay?"
You had texted him, saying you urgently needed to go see him. And you even had texted your code word for "fucking emergency, drop what you're doing right now". Yes, the word was "capybara". Much unlike his usual self, he quickly exited the game he was playing, after all - you only used that word once before, and he really didn't want to ponder on THAT time.
Just as he was about to text you back, a hurried knock on his door startled him.
"MC?" He questioned, looking around to make sure his room was at least somewhat decent looking. You'd hung out with him countless times before, but he wanted to double-check anyways.
"Yes! I'm coming in!" And there you stood, worry instantly leaving your features the moment you spotted him. "Ah, Idia. I'm so lucky to have you.~" before he could react, you made a few steps forward and threw yourself on him, hugging him.
Now, Idia has never been one to appreciate any kind of contact, especially physical. But having his crush hug him. Nah. His internal graphics card isn't strong enough to withstand such situations. He felt himself nearly overheat at the feeling of your body against his. The tiniest of yelps escaped him - the clearest of signs that his body was going into overdrive.
"Idia, something really bad happened and I fear it might affect me. I should stay indoors until it wears off, can we just stay here and cuddle?"
CUDDLE?! C U D D L E?! D-DID HE HEAR YOU RIGHT?! His knees buckled and the two of you fell to the floor. "W-wha-" he couldn't even form his sentence. And it became even worse, once you nestled into his arms, making yourself more comfortable. "I've been waiting for a long time to do this~" you murmured, a satisfied smile on your lips.
He gathered all of the strength in his body, mind and soul, to ask you. "W-what bad thing happened?"
"I drank a potion in class. I don't know what will happen to me and when it will wear off." You mumbled, fingers tracing over his chest. "But I feel safe now. So it's okay."
What kind of potion? He focused all of his attention to the information given to him. He had to know, insecurities and anxiety be damned, you used *the code word* after all.
Somehow, he hoped his suspicions were incorrect.
Malleus was walking near Ramshackle, waiting patiently for your arrival, as the two of you'd scheduled an afternoon walk. Naturally, he saw you approach from a mile away, but the worried look on your face, alarmed him . What alarmed him even more was the faint magical residue, emanating off of you. You were supposed to be magicless, right? Did somebody try to attack you?
As you reached him, you immediately buried your face in his chest, hugging him tightly. He returned the hug, gently running his fingers through your hair. You two were already close enough to have some form skinship, but somehow you were never this forward.
"Tsunotarou", you mumbled, looking up at him. "I'm sorry I'm late." "Nonsense, Child of man. I reckon you're just on time. Is this what has you so troubled?"
"Not really, we had an accident in potions class." Before you could further elaborate, you reached out, cupping his cheek. "But it's okay. This is the most free I've ever felt. As if I'm soaring through the sky, and for once I'm not overthinking my every move. And it's all because of you." You stroked his cheek gently. "Have I ever told you how much I like you?"
His eyes grew wide open at the carefree admission. He was one split second decision away from kissing you breathless right then and there, but somehow he knew something was very wrong. "My, how bold of you, my dear." His surprise soon turned to sorrow, as he pieced together the situation. "It appears that accident may have involved a love potion."
"It was supposed to be a truth potion." You corrected with a small giggle.
"Alas, those two are easy to mix. I appreciate the boldness, I truly do, my dear. However, seeing as you're under the influence of such a potion, I cannot respond in any way."
A bitter smile graced his lips as he patted you on the head. "Let us bring you to Professor Crewel, to brew an antidote. In the meantime, you can tell me which insolent soul is responsible for this."
You pouted at him. "Crewel said it will wear off on its own. And once it does, I will come and confess to you again, to show you how real my feelings are."
That made him smile a bit, as his heart nearly leaped out of his chest. Some may call it false hope. He calls it dedication.
"Then I shall await that moment most ardently, my dear."
#twisted wonderland#twst imagines#twisted wonderland x mc#twst x reader#disney twst#twisted wonderland jamil#disney twisted wonderland#jamil viper#twst x you#twst x yuu#twst x y/n#twst x mc#jamil x reader#leona x reader#riddle x reader#azul x reader#vil x reader#idia x reader#malleus x reader#leona x you#riddle x y/n#azul x yuu#jamil x yuu#vil x yuu#idia x mc#malleus x yuu#twisted wonderland idia#malleus draconia#vil schoenheit#twisted wonderland azul
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All right you got my creative juices running with part five of Klarion is Dan yes the first series I ever came to you with
To find him Klarion isn't the only one living in the DC dimension in like the word of protective mother Danny is he sent one of clarion's older siblings to go with him Larsal/Lassie
She was one of the clone children that was created long before Danny knew that was trying to clone him she was one of the first failures
She doesn't really have a physical form as much she is more of like a big pit of water that has like a spiritual like form like Dr Fate
She hates Vlad so much that the entire League of assassins who's also hit him even though they don't know who he is but know that Danny got from Clockwork was about her and visiting
Klarion knows about the quote as the same thing last knows about him being a villain they keep each other secrets cuz they know they make Mom disappointed
When they do have somewhat of a physical form it's a cowgirl with a horse made entirely of Lazarus Pits
Along with that Vlad making surprise visit after feeling someone's littering his name more than usual it's like a call about anytime he knows his children or Daniel is talking about him
Also Batman's freaking out after I think that one of Danny's kids is such a little hater that they made a cult just despite their father which makes the Justice League think Vlad really that bad
This is just the funny idea and I know it's not a good prompt I'm still trying to think of more sorry
Oh I love this! Thanks you!
This is going to be fun in a way I hope! Enjoy~
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Danny barely avoided getting questioned further about his relation to Vlad when he noticed the green post-it note and made a grab for it. "Oh would you look at that! Pop is sending us a message!"
Okay maybe he said that louder than necessary but he needed to change the topic. He didn't need more people on to torment the fruitloop. His own kids were already giving the man enough grief as it was. He didn't need distant cousins or an entire hero society of another dimension coming after the fruitloop too. Not that he would mind that much but some mercy towards the redeemed man would probably be appropriated.
Either way Danny focused his attention on the note only half heartedly listening as Klarion continued his family tree explanation to his little hero friends. He blinked at the note several times before laughing happily. "Would you look at that! Lassie is going to come by! Your Granpa Clock is giving us a heads up, so I can prepare a fresh batch of ectoplasm for her to stay healthy!"
Whatever Klarion was explaining right now was abandoned as he sat up straight. "Lassie is coming too?"
"Well of course she is." Danny hummed happily, thankful for the chance of seeing both his kids that liked to life in the same dimension.
"Lassie?" Red Robin piped up questioning. Oh looks like this is one of Klarions siblings they hadn't gotten to yet regarding explanations.
"Yes my fourth oldest but unofficial second oldest." Danny nodded with a proud mother smile on his face. "She lives in this dimension too to keep an eye on Klarion so he would stay safe and dosen't over do it."
Klarion on the other hand groaned. "I don't need Lassie to baby sit me!"
"Klarion, sweety you were new to the whole living alone in another dimension thing. You spent the longest in FarFrozen and the Ghost Zone with me because of your destabilisation." Danny reprimanded him softly and the teen heroes snickered behind Klarions back to which the witch boy turned to glare at them with a greenish blush across his cheeks.
"So what does that sister of yours look like?" Impulse asked to change the topic and because he took a bit of pity on Klarion for the way his Mom was apparently embarrassing the witch boy. His question resulted in Klarion flipping though the photo album before stopping at an image of Klarion next to a pit of green something. Impulse arched an eyebrow and was about to comment when he got pushed roughly to the side by Red Robin.
"THAT'S A LAZARUS PIT!"
The way Batman's chair clattered to the ground as the man stood up looked every bit like he was going to rush over to the teens spoke for the shock that Red Robin shout had caused. The Ghost King and Klarion on the other hand looked rather calm as they barely reacted to the shout and Danny even motioned to Batman to sit back down again, as the chair that fell rightened itself again.
"Calm down. Lassie is a good child. She wouldn't hurt a fly." Danny told them smiling, not realising that both Batman and Red Robin were giving him increadulous looks behind their mask.
"A.... good child?" Batman repeated his slowly his voice even more tinged with his usual gruff gravel in a way that both Superman and Wonder Woman side eyed him worried while Flash snacked on a pack of melon flavoured ships he snacked from a table.
"She doesn't have a physical body, that is why she is relying on the pits of natural ectoplasm your dimension has. There was a little problem with her physical form and we just couldn't restore it and she refuses to get a unoccupied clone body like Klarion has." Danny explained further not minding the stares he or Klarion were getting.
"Pits of natural ectoplasm?" Batman reiterated, his tone clearly questioning, to which Danny only blinked a couple of times surprised. "I thought your dimension knew what they were? Sure the way you guys use them is strange and Lassie did sound a bit concerned when she told me about it but I didn't think you guys weren't aware what they were."
"No that is not...." Red Robin started but then but himself of as he turned around hurriedly in a defensive position as he noticed someone coming in through the window. He wasn't the only one. All the heroes reacted as one at the new presence, however what they didn't expect was a member of the League of Assassins blinking up at them stunned after climbing in through the window lifting their hands palm up in a gesture of peace.
"Woah hey there calm down! Klarion what the fuck? Why are there so many heroes in your Apartment?" The LoA member spoke up and all eyes turned to Klarion who instead only deadpanned. "I told you Mom was visiting to meet my 'friends'"
"Lassie, what did I tell you about possessing bodies?" The Ghost King piped up in a disapproving tone and they heard the distinctive tone of someone knocking their head against the table, probably Constantine.
"Sorry Mom but there are not Pits of ectoplasm near baby brother I could use to form a body." The LoA member, apparently possessed by Klarion's elder sister replied sheepishly. To say Red Robin was weirded out was an understatement. Usually if he encountered LoA members they were aggressive and most likely there to take him or one of his siblings out.
"That's an League of Assasin member...." He muttered under his breath to which said member laughed. "This guy was the closest to me to use for the moment. Don't worry I will release him later and he won't even remember a thing. I got my little sheep's well trained."
"Little sheep's?" Wonder Girl repeated a hand on her hip as she stared sceptically, to which Klarion face palmed and muttered a low "Sis shut up...."
"No Lassie, don't shut up." Danny intone from the kitchen table he was still sitting at with the other adults, his head was now resting on his hand as he stared at his two kids who visibly flinched.
The LoA member, possessed by Klarions sister, scratched the back of is head nervously as they faced the Ghost King. "Ah Mom, uhm hehe you know funny story..."
The heroes were pretty sure that the room had gotten several degrees colder and they weren't sure if that was because of the mood of a parent about to interrogate their child or because of the Ghost Kings power. (At a later time Constantine swore it were the Ghost Kings powers.) There was a awkward moment of silence the heroes weren't sure if they should be present for that or not especially when Danny stood up and walked over to the teens.
On reflex Wonder Girl, Superboy, Impulse and Red Robin made room for Danny to walk past them as they watched on torn between curiosity and pity, because clearly Klarion and his sister Lassie must have done something they weren't supposed to do. And honestly they were more curious what they did, after all the Ghost King hadn't been that faced when it got revealed that Klarion was more of a Villain than a Hero to them.
"Lassie, what did you do?" The teen heroes couldn't see Danny's face but from the tone they had a feeling that Danny was arching an eyebrow at his children.
Lassie laughed awkwardly once more. "So... you know how grandma Pandora kind of thought us about how our own emotion can influence those around us exposed to our ectoplasm over a long period of time?"
"Lassie..."
"I might have raised something akin to a cult on accident and passed on my personal grudge and hate towards the fruitloop along to them and they might now have the subconscious drill of attack on sight if Vlad ever makes an appearance in this dimension...." The LoA member slowly spoke up which had several of the adult heroes blinking in disbelief.
Batman especially was in shock of hearing about this since had the most interaction with this 'cult' as apparently one of the Ghost Kings children liked to call the League of Assassins. The bat suit wearing hero was about to interject and ask more but stopped when the Ghost King let out a suffering sigh like the most tired parent in existence. "And you didn't think about telling me this sooner because?"
"We don't like to disappoint you Mom." The two children of the Ghost King replied simultaneously like one united front. Danny in response gave his kids a light chuckle. But before Danny could go on any further Red Robin decided it was probably a good time to interject and remind the Ghost King of their presence.
"I got a question if you don't mind..." He lifted his hand like he was in school as he pulled the attention towards him. His curiosity won over his caution of the situation. "Klarion if the Lazarus Pits are actually 'ectoplasm' as you mentioned before, and are largely influenced by your sisters emotion. What happens to guy that bath regularly in them or someone that got thrown in there and game back out rage filled?"
"Red Robin!" Batman call out reprimanding instantly knowing where Red Robins line of question was going.
The possessed LoA member on the other hand blinked at them before scratching their head sheepishly. "I think I know who your talking about. I am still sorry about that second guy. When he got dunked into my ectoplasm, I kinda just came back from a visit home and had a bad fight with Vlad and was especially rage filled towards him."
"So does that mean...?" Red Robin inquired further ignoring Batman's silent glare towards him for even bringing these questions up and just as Lassie was about to answer Danny interjected.
"Lassie, go fix your cult." Another green note at materialised out of nowhere and had fluttered in the air before him and caused the Ghost King to face palm the moment he read it's context.
"Mom?" Both Klarion and Lassie asked with a shared worried glance.
"Vlad has come into the dimension for some reasons and is currently getting chased down by your cult."
There was a stunned silence after which Klarion and Lassie, in the body of the LoA member, broke out laughing hysterically which only caused Danny to lightly glare at his children. Meanwhile the teen heroes weren't sure if they should feel sorry for the old man called Vlad but considering all the red flags they had picked up from what Klarion told them, they felt a little like the man deserved that.
The adults on the other hand felt slightly torn, well mostly Batman. It was clear that this Vlad was a bigger threat than both Klarion and the Ghost King were making him out to be, considering the entire existence of the Lazarus Pits hated that man. But on the other hand as heroes they probably should feel obligated to help the man especially if, according to the Ghost Kings words, he was currently gotten chased in their dimension by the League of Assassins.
Danny on the other hand never felt more like a tired mother than he did right now. Sure he knew about his unofficial second oldest hatred towards Vlad but this certainly was a new level of hate. Especially since she apparently 'accidentally' (he doesn't by that at all) raised an entire cult that subconsciously hated him too.
#question and answer#thanks for the ask!#danny fenton#danny phantom#dp x dc#dpxdc#dcxdp#crossover#dan phantom#klarion the witch boy#tim drake#conner kent#bart allan#cassandra sandsmark#young justice#Dan is Klarion#Danny is Dan's mom#mom Danny#ghost king danny#Part 5#guess what Klarions unofficial second oldest sister lives in the Lazarus Pits#she kind of is the Lazarus Pits but at the same time not#Though the pits are filled with her emotions#and causes the LoA to hate Vlad the same way she does#Jason most likely hates Vlad too subconsciously#Tim has a feeling he does#the Justice League see Vlad as a thread now#the phantoms are gremlins#no beta we die like danny#unedited
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two is better than one | joel & tommy miller
Summary | Frustrated that whatever you're trying to do still isn't working, you decide to give it one more try with Joel before cooling off for a while. Tommy is back to keep an eye on the both of you this time, but what happens when he starts to feel a little left out, watching his brother bring his girl over the edge more times than he cares to count?
Warnings | I swear I always start this the same way so here we go: Tommy getting cucked but also getting involved this time 👀, Joel being a fucking menace, dirty talk, oral sex (F&M receiving), face sitting, breeding kink, unprotected PiV sex, talk of infertility, no use of Y/N
Word Count | 3.8k
Authors Note | Whew. When I tell you this little threesome has been rotting my brain, I'm not lying. This is the only thing I can focus on, hence them being updated so fast! I just wanted to say a huge thank you to you all for the continued love you're giving this series - it honestly blows my mind every time that it's something you guys enjoy, that my writing reaches so many people and that they lap that shit up. I'm so grateful to everyone who has taken the time to comment, send me asks, reblogs and those who have slid into my DMs with all the love. I see you, I hear you, and I love you all - thank you. I hope you enjoy this next part just as much as the rest - it's a doozy. You know the drill, if you did like it, please consider reblogging, commenting or sending the love to my ask box, it's what keeps me going. And if you'd like to leave me a tip (of course no pressure!), then here's my Ko-Fi.
Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist
Another month and another fucking negative pregnancy test. You knew it was irrational, but you were starting to think that maybe you were also part of the problem now. You’d been doing everything right, following all the advice in the books you’d bought almost a year ago when Tommy and you had first started trying for a baby. You’d been exercising, eating as healthily as possible, tried to keep yourself a stress-free as possible. You’d been keeping a close eye on your cycle and still, nothing to show for it.
When you clambered down the stairs, test in hand and flung it in Tommy’s direction, he already knew. He could see the heavy set of your shoulders, the quiet sniffling of you trying to hide the fact you were crying. Tommy had settled you on the couch, covered you in a blanket and made you some tea. Then he’d made your favourite meal for dinner, even driven to the store and picked up Diet Coke, emptied a can into a glass filled with ice and lime juice like you loved, but none of it really helped to soothe how upset you were.
The TV was on low, and he had your head in his lap, slowly stroking the strands of your hair as you tried to calm yourself down. Remind yourself that even the most fertile of couples needed to try for months sometimes before they had their first baby. It was stupid to think you’d be any different.
“You’re thinkin’ way too loud, sugar.” Tommy muses, letting his hand run up and down your arm instead.
“Sorry,” You mumble, “Just thought it would be easier.”
“I know,” He coos, “We can take a break for a while, if you want.”
You turn so you’re led on your back, looking right up at him, “I just want a baby.” You feel a tear slip down your cheek to pool near your ear.
Tommy uses his thumb to brush away the tears that have started to fall, bobbing his leg up and down gently to try and soothe you, “It’s still fresh,” He speaks softly, “Let’s give it a couple of days and see what you want to do, okay?”
You nod in agreement, feeling the beginnings of a headache pooling behind your eyes. You push yourself up into a sitting position and turn around to press a soft kiss to his lips, “I’m gonna go to bed,” You announce, “Headache.”
He lets you go, it’s still early and you know there’s the game highlights he wanted to watch. In bed, you can do nothing but toss and turn for a few hours. Every time you’d try to close your eyes, all you could see was vision of you and Joel, in all the different positions he’d put you in so far, and all for what? When the bedside clock hit 10:30, you head out to use the bathroom. As you near the door at the top of the stairs you can hear Tommy talking to someone, through the phone because his is the only voice you can hear.
“I know, brother, she’s just really beat up about it,” You hear him say, “I don’t know how to make it better.”
You lean against the closed bathroom door, wondering if perhaps you should leave Tommy to talk to Joel. There’s a pause where you can hear Tommy humming along to whatever Joel is saying on the other end of the phone.
“I dunno man,” Tommy sighs, “You managed to knock Sarah’s mom up on a one-night stand, guess I thought it would be easier for you.”
There’s another pause, then he’s speaking again.
“No Joel, all of her tests came back perfect,” Another sigh, “I was always the problem.”
You’re about to push down the handle to go to the bathroom when Tommy speaks again, “I don’t know, maybe we should just cool it for a while, we’re all gonna work ourselves up otherwise.”
You decide you don’t really want to hear the rest of the conversation. You sit on the toilet and let your face drop to your hands in frustration. Why couldn’t you just be normal? Why couldn’t you have been a nice, normal couple, having a baby in the most natural way possible? Why did this have to come along and fucking complicate everything? And why did Joel have to be so fucking good to you every time?
You wash your hands under the tap, water as scalding as it could go, just in order to feel something that wasn’t frustration before you head to bed. There’s no longer the sound of voices as you pad back across the hall and get back into bed, shutting off the lights and curling onto one side, knees as close to your chest as you can manage to get them. It’s not long before you can hear Tommy shuffling around upstairs. He pushes open the bedroom door quietly, obviously thinking you’re already asleep. You can hear him undressing before he's slipping onto his side of the bed, pulling your body close to his under the covers as he spoons you.
You let your own arm cover his over your waist as you lean back into the comfort of his chest, letting his breath fan across the skin of your shoulder as he presses a kiss to your skin.
“I wanna try again,” You speak softly into the dark, feeling Tommy’s arm’s squeeze you tighter, “Once more and then we cool it for a while.”
“You sure?” He asks into your ear, lips pressing to the sensitive skin behind your ear.
“I’m sure.” You respond, turning around in his arms to capture his lips in yours.
When the time comes to try again, it’s you who greets Joel at the door when he knocks. Tommy already upstairs and situated in the chair he had taken the first time you’d done this as a three. Joel leans down, lips just millimeters from your own, but instead of kissing your mouth, he places a soft kiss to your cheek instead.
“Hello, darlin’.”
You step up onto your tiptoes to press your own kiss to his face, just shy of the corner of his mouth – the kisses from last time still a secret between the two of you.
“Evening handsome,” You smile, pulling away from him to close the door as he steps inside, “You ready?”
“To give you what you want?” He smirks, “Always, pretty girl.”
You feel that telltale heat flush across your cheeks as Joel pulls you into his side, hand dipping down to squeeze your ass over the fabric of the robe you’d thrown on moments ago. God, why did he have to be so fucking intoxicating around you?
You take hold of his hand in yours, leading him up the stairs behind you. Tommy was reading a book as you entered the room, folding the corner of the page before setting it down on the nightstand closest to the chair. You can’t help but snigger as you watch him and Joel give each other the typical male greeting of a curt nod of the head.
You drag Joel by the arm to the foot of the bed, pushing his shoulders down so he sits on the edge. Then you take a step back and tug on the belt of your robe, letting it fall open and off your body to leave you completely naked in front of him. You watch his face as he trails those beautiful brown eyes over your body, letting out a low whistle of approval.
“Beautiful as ever, darlin’,” He compliments, reaching out a hand for you to take, “But you’re worked up, ain’t ya? And not in the good way.”
Your eyes flit to Tommy in the corner of the room, who has that smug ‘I told you so’ look on his face. You’d been itching for Tommy to arrange this since that ovulation test said you were in the zone, but Joel had been working away for the past two days, and now you were worried that if you didn’t hurry the fuck up, you’d miss your chance.
Joel reaches out and puts his hands on the back of your thighs, pulling you into him, he’s looking up at you, pressing hot kisses to the skin of your tummy, “Gotta relax babygirl,” He moans, “I’m tryin’ my damned hardest, but you just gotta let nature take its course.”
“Just frustrating.” You mumble.
“I know baby, I know,” He’s got his hands palming your tits now, “Long as I need to, I’ll keep fillin’ you up, y’hear me?”
Your breath catches in your throat and all you can do is nod as he moves himself back on the bed.
Joel leans back on the bed, his head just shy of the pillows, “Sit on my face, pretty girl.”
You’re almost embarrassed at how quickly you scramble yourself onto the bed, moving up to straddle his hips – even Tommy is chuckling from his chair.
“Can’t get enough of Joel’s mouth on your pussy, can you, sugar?” He speaks in a low voice.
Joel has his hands on your ass, guiding your naked body to hover over his face before his hands are slipping up to your hips to pull your cunt to his mouth. He wastes no time in getting straight to business, wide tongue licking stripes from your entrance, where he laps up your slick like a cat would cream, to those deliciously tight flicks of the tip of his tongue to your clit. You can hear him groaning into your pussy, your hand coming down to anchor itself into his hair to hold him still as you start grinding against his face.
You can hear the obscene slurps that he’s making underneath you, it’s half the reason you think it takes you no time at all to reach the edge, because he fucking enjoys this just as much as you do, he loves tasting you, loves making you feel good and you can feel that, can feel it on his mouth.
As you throw your head back as Joel’s tongue swipes perfectly across your clit, you catch Tommy in the corner of the room. He’s palming himself through his jeans as he watches you, your body writhing as his brother’s mouth brings you closer and closer to the edge. It wouldn’t hurt, would it? You think, if you asked if he wanted you to help him out.
“You feeling left out baby?” You coo, reaching your hand out for Tommy to take, “Joel gets my pussy tonight,” You punctuate with a grind of your pussy down onto his mouth, “But I can help you, if you want.”
He’s standing at the edge of the bed in minutes, his hand pressing into the back of your neck, not unlike how he tries to work the knots from there when you watch TV together. It’s soft and it’s loving and a complete juxtaposition to the vice grip that Joel’s fingers currently have on your hips.
Your lips are impossibly close to Tommy’s, you could easily lean forward and kiss him, instead, you have a demand, “Take off your pants.”
Tommy’s hands start to undo the belt holding his jeans up, so you turn your attention back to Joel between your thighs. He is expertly holding you right on the edge, you’re mewling and whining as he tongue works you to the edge, and then pulls away, moving down to gather more of your slick on his tongue.
You drop your head and catch his eyes looking up at you, “You gonna tease me all night, Miller?” You ask, voice cracking as he makes a point to suckle on your clit, making you cry out, “Fuck, make me come, please Joel.”
All of a sudden, Tommy’s hand is on your face, pulling your mouth to his own in a searing kiss as he guides your hand to his cock. You’re moaning, a combination of the fact that any second, Joel’s mouth is going to have you screaming and the fact that it’s Tommy kissing you, his cock you’re currently pumping through your fist. It’s delicious and it’s filthy and it should feel all shades of wrong, but it fucking doesn’t.
You feel it in your legs first, the way they begin to shake and pulse and your thighs clamp around Joel’s face. Then you feel it in your abdomen, like a knot unfurling all at once as pleasure bursts over every inch of your skin. Your mouth detaching from Tommy’s, so you can cry out his brother’s name as you feel yourself almost collapse onto him.
“Such a good girl,” Tommy breathes into your ear, your hand still firmly held around his cock, “So good when you come for us like that.”
You feel Joel’s hands tapping at the cheeks of your ass, telling you to lift yourself off his face which you do, dragging yourself down enough so that you’re sat across his chest, not caring that your leaking pussy is dragging slick all over him. His face is covered, covered in you. He’s grinning up at you like the devil, tongue circling his mouth to clean your taste from wherever he can reach.
“I gotta be inside you, pretty girl.” You can hear his gruff voice speak.
Tommy immediately moves back from you so you can settle yourself down on the bed. You start on your back, but Joel moves you to lie on your side. He’s still fully clothed behind you, but when he presses himself up against you, you can feel his thick cock straining in his jeans.
“Take your clothes off.” Is all you can manage to whine as Tommy settles on his knees on the space in front of you, taking the back of your head in the palm of his hand to bring your mouth to his cock.
Joel shuffles away from you and you feel the mattress lighten as he gets off the bed to shed his clothes. You almost wish you could watch, there’s something about the way Joel reveals his body to you that drives you wild. The way he drags his shirt off to reveal his broad frame, chest peppered with hair, or the way his cock bounces when he finally pulls off his underwear. But right now, you’re focused on making your man feel good.
You’re making sure that you’re doing it exactly as Tommy likes, almost telling him through the ministrations of your mouth how grateful you are for him, for this being his idea, for loving you enough and trusting you enough to let someone else give you what he cannot. You’re giving all the attention of your tongue to the head of Tommy’s weeping cock, tasting the salt and musk of his pre-cum, using one had to pump the base of his cock.
You can feel Joel settle back behind you, pressing his entire body against your own, hard cock slipping through the slick folds of your cunt as he settles himself in the right position, then, he’s taking hold of your leg, hand in the crux of your knee to pull it up, baring his prize. He slowly inches his cock inside your tight heat and suddenly it’s all a little overwhelming.
You’re giving the love of your life the kind of head you’ve only ever seen in porn, Tommy taking most of the control to thrust in and out of your mouth. You’re pretty sure the tears falling from your eyes are a mixture of his length hitting the back of your throat and the overwhelming emotion, love, and admiration you feel for both the men who are crowding your body, owning it, taking what they both want, one of them hopefully leaving you with what you want.
You pull your face away from Tommy’s cock for a moment, still giving his length the attention it needs, but you let yourself lean into Joel behind you, his cock still moving languidly inside you. He’s got one of his arms snaked under your neck, your head leant against his arm like a pillow, his other hand holding your leg up so that every time his cock brushes inside you, it’s hitting that damn spot that makes you want to cry.
“Look at you, lucky girl,” Joel growls into your ear as his lifts your leg up higher, pushing it almost to lie flat aagainst your side, “One cock in that pretty little pussy, another in your mouth,” You let a moan, muffled by the fact that Tommy is currently doing a slap-up job of fucking your throat, “He’s a lucky man,” Joel speaks again, “Bet that mouth feels divine.”
“You ask nicely, she might oblige you, brother.”
You feel him puff air through his nose in a chuckle, “I’m quite happy right where I am,” He speaks, pumping his cock so deep inside you that you actually think you can see stars, “You’re a lucky son-of-a-bitch gettin’ this for the rest of your life.”
“She’s special, I’ll give you that.”
It’s like you have to prove him right now. You can feel the walls of your pussy clenching around Joel as he picks up his pace. You can feel his balls slapping into your skin with every thrust, the power behind them causing your mouth to take Tommy cock deeper into your mouth every time.
“Sugar, I ain’t gonna last much longer.” You hear him speak from above you.
You pull off him, again letting your hand work him as you look up at his through your lashes, “You want me to swallow for you, baby?” You asked, wondering what you must look like when he looks down at you, fucked out from his brother, begging for him to come down your throat.
“There’s an offer I cannot refuse,” Tommy grins, letting your mouth take him back inside the warmth, “Such a good girl.”
He only lasts a few more seconds, cum hitting your tongue and seeping down your throat. You swallow down every drop, grinning up at Tommy. He leans down and plants a kiss to your lips, and now your focus is on Joel, thick and solid, pumping his cock in and out of you.
“You focus on Joel now, sugar,” He croons, “I’m gonna sit back and watch you have fun.”
As soon as Tommy has moved away from you, Joel is pulling his cock from your pussy, turning you onto your back before he’s crowding his frame over you, settling between your thighs. You’re pliant and you move easily when he hooks your legs over his shoulders, folding you back as he slips his cock back inside you.
You’re gripping his arms as he fucks into you in earnest now, tip of his cock bruising your cervix with every thrust, you know he’ll have half-moon shaped marks on his arms come the morning, they’ll match the bruises he always leaves on your hips, the shape of his fingertips indented into your skin.
“God fuckin’ damnit,” Joel groan, head falling to the column of your throat to graze teeth and lips over your delicate skin, “Gonna come so deep in this fuckin’ pussy it won’t have a choice but to take, you hear me, pretty girl?”
“Fuck!” You exclaim, as he shifts just enough to change the angle that his cock is spearing into you, “Joel please.”
“Please what?” He teases, “What do you want, babygirl?”
“Inside,” You breath out, “Want you inside.”
“Yeah, want me to make you a mama?” You can feel tears pooling in your eyes, “No need to cry, pretty girl,” He leans down, folding you in half even more, almost uncomfortable, to kiss away the tears, “Gonna give you what you need.”
He thankfully moves back a little, stopping your bones from screaming at you for being folded so inhumanely, then his thumb is on your clit, “Only gonna make you a mama if you come with me,” Joel smirks, “Deal?”
“Oh god – fuck – whatever you want,” You cry, “Please, give me what I want.”
His thumb is relentless on your already sensitive clit, those tight circles have you clenching around him and when you look into his eyes you know he’s just as close as you are, “That’s it baby, you keep those big, beautiful eyes on me,” Joel’s hips are snapping into your with a force you didn’t know you could feel, it’s entirely too much and entirely too little all at the same time, “Can feel that tight little pussy suckin’ me in,” You cry out as his thumb falters and drags across your clit in a way that has that not threatening to unfurl yet again, “It’s alright baby, if you come, I’ll follow, yeah?”
That’s exactly what happens. His thumb traces wet circles over your clit and you do exactly as he says. You keep your eyes wide open, staring directly into his own, as your mouth falls open with a screech as your vision clouds. Whatever happens, Joel is right behind you, his cock pounds into at most, twice more, before he’s growling your name through his teeth, cum painting every inch of your pussy. He drops your legs from his shoulders, and falls forward, letting his head rest in the crook of your neck as you both fight to catch your breath.
You wrap your arms around him but it’s all too soon before he’s pulling himself out of you, a kiss to your cheek as he does so. You’re spent and you’re aching and if you’re honest, a little overwhelmed. Joel dresses quickly, and you wish you could ask him to stay, wish he didn’t feel the need to run away, but you know it’s for the best. Tommy tells you he’ll see him out and come to bed, so you roll over and pull yourself under the sheets, trying to warm yourself from the cool air that’s spattering across the sweat of your skin.
Tommy is back within minutes having seen Joel off. He shed his clothes and moves right up behind you, gathering you into his arms. He takes some time to press kisses into your neck and across your shoulders and for some reason, it sets your belly on fire. How have you been fucked so thoroughly by another man, this man’s own brother, and now you’re aching for this man behind you.
“I love you so much, Tommy,” You whisper into the dark, clutching at his arms wrapped around you, “So fucking much.”
“I love you too baby,” He whispers into your ear, stilling your hips as they grind back into him, “Enough of that, I’ll give you what you want tomorrow.”
#Joel Miller#Joel Miller Smut#Joel Miller Fic#Joel Miller fanfic#Joel Miller fanfiction#Joel Miller x you#Joel Miller x reader#Joel Miller x female reader#Joel Miller x f!reader#Tommy Miller#Tommy Miller smut#Tommy Miller fic#Tommy Miller fanfic#Tommy Miller fanfiction#Tommy Miller x you#Tommy Miller x reader#Tommy Miller x female reader#Tommy Miller x f!reader#The Last Of Us#The Last Of Us hbo#tlou#tlou hbo#tlou smut#tlou fic#the last of us fic#the last of us smut#trial & error#Joel Miller Pedro Pascal#Pedro Pascal
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[Smut Challenge - Neighbor Series] Simon “Ghost”Riley*Fem!Reader
Simon with a Cam girl!Reader neighbor.
Word Count: 2.3K
CW: 18+, mdni, pet names, streaming, masturbating, I’m practicing writing smut :)
pls tell me if I forget to tag something in CW! tyvm!
Simon Riley is obsessed with you.
If someone told him that he would be crazy for a cam girl one day, he would definitely snort in their face, but here he was, clicking on your name to join the stream, watching you riding a pink dildo, thighs trembling and eyes rolling back when it hit the spongy spot.
Your eyes darted, shooting the screen a glimpse when you heard the sound effect you set just for him when he joined the stream.
“Simon! Welcome back!”
Oh, how much he missed your honey-soaked voice calling his name sweetly. Simon took his cock in his fist, which already hardened once he heard you moan out when you head back to pleasure yourself, pretty cunt swallowing the dildo too perfect that he wished it was his cock instead.
‘Simon donated $200: Missed me, baby girl?’
Simon mindlessly stroked his cock with his left hand while he donated, he saw your eyes widen at the notification and shifted closer to the camera.
“I missed you, Simon... hmm...Can’t you see...?”
A moan slipped through his clenched jaw when you showed him your puffy pussy, thighs stained with your juices, and you started pumping the dildo in and out of your cunt again, that’s when he started losing his control, moaning and grunting with you, making a chord in his room, and his pace quickened when your voice getting louder and higher.
“Simon! I'm coming... I'm coming...!”
He whispered your name when you hit your high, his cock shooting spurts and spurts of hot cum when you called out his name while orgasm rushed through your body, as you collapsed onto the floor.
A few minutes later, Simon watched you regain the energy to sit up and say goodbye to chat and of course — him.
“Simon, see you next time!”
Your stream room became a dark screen, Simon’s room only illuminate by the light of his laptop, and he stared at his fist, white cum scattered.
His mind wandered to the time you moaned out his name a few minutes ago.
He was down bad.
Simon became extremely grumpy the next week.
You hadn’t streamed for over 5 days, first two days he assumed you might just want some rest, but when he looked at the ‘offline’ on your streaming status on the third night, he started becoming anxious.
The paperwork forming a pile on his desk made him additionally angry, he yelled and scolded the stupid recruits harsher than he used to, even Soap became attentive when joking with him, noticing his lieutenant's bad temper lately.
Maybe you were sick, maybe you went on a vacation with someone.
Someone... What if they were your boyfriend?
Simon never thought about the idea you might have a partner, but now he reminded himself, and he felt more and more annoyed when this idea kept running through his mind.
He ruffled his messy hair, it was finally weekend, giving him some time to relax, but there was no chance he could truly relieve all of his stress when you weren’t streaming. The only methods left are smoking, drinking, becoming a couch potato, and maybe eating some microwave food.
but seemed like the whole world was fucking with him right now, because no food or beer was remaining in his fridge, so he needed to go on shopping.
What he never expected was the sight in front of him when he opened the door of his flat.
There was you, his dream, carrying a box and standing at the next door, where he knew there would be a new neighbor.
His pupils dilated, eyes locked on you, as you recognized his presence and turned around, face delighted with an adorable smile.
“... hello? Hello? Sir?”
He snapped out of his trance when he realized you — now only a few inches next to him — head tilting up to face him with concern on your face.
“Hello.” He simply nodded.
“I’m moving into the flat next to yours today, nice to meet you.” He stared at your plump lips, glistening with the lipstick you used, while trying not to form a fucking boner in front of his new neighbor when you told him your name. “What’s your name, sir?”
“Just call me Simon.”
“Simon?” He noticed you crooked your eyebrow at his response.
“Any problem, love?” The pet name floated out his mouth fluently, as if it was what he said to you every day.
“Oh... nothing! just have an old friend whose name is Simon too, but it’s quite a common name.”
You waved your hands, but it only made Simon wonder if that ‘Simon’ was him.
“Well, I need to finish placing everything in their place, let’s chat next time, or maybe you can come to my flat and have dinner together.” You reached out your hand, “again, glad to know you, Simon!”
He watched you step into your flat, the door shut behind you, and now he could finally let out the sigh he held once he saw you.
Your hands were so, so soft, and he could smell the shower gel you used when you turned around and walked away, unknowing your movement drowned him in your scent.
He wondered whether you would stream today.
He didn’t need to open the streaming website to know if you were online now, he now could jerk while hearing you whining and moaning his name while he sent hundreds and hundreds of donations, calling you a good girl or pretty doll.
Speakers ruined your beautiful voices, he listened to you tumbled over your orgasm directly now.
You should be happy that only you two lived on this floor.
but what he noticed is that you would masturbate when you weren’t streaming, and it was a huge discovery.
because he realized you still called out his name when you weren’t streaming.
“Simon... oh god... you’re so big…”
He made sure to memorize this beautiful melody, whilst he fisted his cock furiously, how eager he wanted to break this common wall, pressed you onto your bed and fuck you until you couldn’t walk straightly the next day, gave you what you truly want, what you truly deserved.
but for now, your relationship only stayed as friends, you sometimes invited him to your place for dinner, and this became a little habit that you two shared.
“You need to leave for two weeks?” Your voice raised at his words, while he picked up the last broccoli on his plate.
You already knew he work in the military, and he fucking loved that you greeted him with home-cooked dinner whenever he came back from deployment, at the same time, he hated seeing the sadness on your angelic face every time he told you he won’t be here for a while.
“two weeks, it will pass very quickly.”
“Okay...” you compromised to the reality, but the unhappiness on your face still lingered. “Just be safe and take care of yourself, please?”
He swallowed down his broccoli when you stood up so you could hug him. You always did this before missions, after the time he told you he had no family members anymore.
He melted in your arms, eyes closed when he returned the embrace.
“I will.”
Just as Simon said, two weeks flew in the blink of an eye, and his craving to finish the mission as quickly as possible so he could return to you was obvious, even Gaz started asking him if he had someone waiting for him at home, which he shot him a death glare to shut the sergeant up.
but hell, seeing you again literally was the only thing he wanted to do after the mission was completed, so he jumped on the earliest Uber he could book and rushed home immediately after he was able to leave.
Well, he really just thirsted for a dinner time with you, or maybe jerk to your sugary sounds behind his door, wholeheartedly, but all his plans changed when he stepped out of the elevator and heard you cry out his name in pleasure.
All his restraints were gone in the millisecond, and he carelessly threw the bag aside.
Around half a minute after Simon knocked on your door, you finally came to the door, clothes wearing sloppily and shallowly panting, he could even see your nipple perking through your t-shirt.
“Oh! Simon! Welcome back!” bloody hell, even the same word you always said to him when he joined the stream.
Without answering, Simon pushed you into your flat, and closed the door behind you two, locking any rational thoughts outside.
“Such a needy girl, moaning my name while pleasuring yourself when I’m deployed, eh?”
He leaned down to nip at your earlobe and saw your face blushed due to embarrassment.
“Sorry- I’m just... you are too similar to my friend, I...” Your eyes shifted, unable to meet his, but he chuckled when he heard your poor defense.
“your friend... or do you mean your supporter? hmm? On that streaming website which you shamelessly ride a dildo and moan out my name?”
Now you finally meet his gaze, stuttering as you connect everything.
“You are the Simon from my stream?!”
Simon didn’t answer you, instead, he bent you over the counter, hands traveled across your thigh, went north to your core, and cupped it in his samely heated palm.
“You know how much I want to fuck you when you play with yourself just a wall from me? how much I want you to scream out my name until everyone knows you belong to me?”
He tore your pants off and smirked at your lack of underwear inside.
“you know you could always ask me when you’ve missed me so much, love.”
His callused fingers slipped between your folds, and you didn’t even need lubes, previous masturbation and his words already made your pussy drool with prominent juices.
“Please... I need you, Simon. Please fuck me.” You look over your shoulder, and the man gives you an open mouth kiss at your nape.
“I’ve got you, princess.”
You yelped when he suddenly scooped you into his arms and carried you inside your room, but he didn’t bring you to your bed, instead, he set you down at the place you usually stream at.
“go live on the website, baby.” When you were still processing what he said, he already reached out his arm to open your laptop.
“Wait... Simon, you want me to stream?!”
“yeah, let the world see only I can make you feel the best.”
Your hands quivered when you took over the mouse, and just as you clicked on ‘go live’, you felt Simon nudging the tip at your entrance.
“He-Hello... guys, today we have a special guest, he’s- ahh!” Just as the viewers started joining the stream, and you were about to explain the difference of today’s stream, Simon suddenly push all of his shafts into your cunt, hitting your cervix and forcing you to squeal out to the heavenly bliss, you spare a mind to check the camera could only record you and Simon’s lower body before you got pulled into a glorious state by him.
You can’t even form a proper sentence as Simon’s hands anchored at your hips, and he moved his hips at an inhuman speed, the slightly up-tilt of his fat cock made it able to hit the right spot every time he rammed into your tight pussy.
“Simon! Simon! Oh god, you’re too big! I’m gonna cum!”
Your eyes rolled back at Simon’s brutal pace, and his grunts only made you climb to the peak much quicker than usual.
“yeah? Only I can make you feel good, cum for me, love, cum for your best supporter.”
His coos and a hard thrust sent you over the edge, you squirted all over the floor, screaming out Simon’s name when he kept his thrusting, and you became a whining mess.
you could hear donations flooding in your stream like pouring rain, but you couldn’t thank each of them, not when the man you lusted for so long still maintained his pace and overstimulated you till you started squirming.
“bloody hell... you’re so tight, doll. Do I fucking you in front of your viewers make you so excited?” You could hear Simon taunting you, but all you could do was ramble an uncoherent answer to him.
“Yes! You make me feel so good! ahh... Simon, stop! I can’t! I’m gonna cum again!”
Not only you felt like you were in paradise, Simon’s frequent grunting and the kisses he continuously planted on your shoulder allowed you to know he was enjoying too.
“fuck... gripping me like a vice, you can do it, baby, cum with me, I’m gonna mark this pussy as mine.”
When Simon’s hand reach down to rub circles at your clit, he finally granted you the orgasm, and your tight cunt forced his out too, hot cum painting your inner walls in white.
Recovering from the orgasm, Simon looked down at you — unable to lift yourself up, body shaking at the aftertaste.
He smirked, and shut down your laptop.
“Stream’s over, goodbye.”
With a smash of his hand, your stream room became black again.
#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#ghost x reader#simon riley imagine#cod x reader#cod imagine#ghost x you#simon ghost riley smut#simon riley smut#cod x you#female reader
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𑄽୧ being loud with erwin 𔓘 ᰍ
kinktober day 23: moan my name!!!
✿ erwin smith x reader
✿ warnings: oral (fem receiving), p in v, creampie
"Could you please pass me the salt, baby?" Erwin asks you under the sound of bubbling soup. Erwin's cooking is the best, but for some reason, everything is always so loud in the kitchen.
"What did you say?" you yell at him from the other side of the kitchen, unable to hear what he said. He looks at you with a questionable look, and you know that he probably didn't hear you too.
"You're too quiet, sweetheart," he calls out, sending you a dirty look.
"Nuh-uh." you giggle at him, running to him on your tippy toes to kiss him on the mouth. He smiles into the kiss as he deepens it. He's passionate, exploring your mouth in every way. His tongue softly meets yours before he comes back to just biting your lips.
It doesn't take long for him to move to your neck. He loves how clean your skin looks, but now and then, he needs to get you marked up. He licks at your collarbones, his mouth nearing the mound of your breast before coming back up to suck on your neck. He litters a series of small love bites all around your neck for everyone to see.
"You can't even take this off of me before devouring me." you joke as you throw away the shirt of his you were wearing. He snorts at his comment, saying something along the lines of "But I never intended to fuck you now."
You shove him a little as a joke, puffing your chest and moving your hair so that he can take a good look.
"Beautiful as always." he praises you, hiking your body up and placing you on the kitchen counter. He kisses down between your breasts, this time more hungrily. He scrapes his teeth along your skin in between his kisses and licks.
"I'm gonna eat this sweet pussy." he smiles at you when he stops at the waistband of your panties, getting in between your legs. He gently licks the hood of your pussy over your panties, tongue swiping along your clit. Just this indirect touch makes you let out the dirtiest moans. He tsks to himself before ripping your panties, throwing the shreds somewhere.
He focuses on your sweet bud, sucking it in his mouth. He rolls it inside his mouth, and you can't help but moan.
"I love when you're loud," he confesses with his mouth full of your pussy. Erwin flattens his tongue on your cunt, collecting your juices on his tongue. He smacks his lips, enjoying the taste in his mouth.
You can't help the moans that spill from your mouth as well as you can't help the juices that fall from your pussy right into Erwin's mouth. He can see his cheeks and chin glisten with your nectar, and he eats it as if it were his last meal.
Just as you're about to cum, he pulls away. He stands up between your legs, massaging your thighs as he captures your lips in his once again. You can see his shuffling his pants down to reveal his already hard cock.
"Did you get hard just from eating me out?" you ask him with a giggle, gulping when he answers you with a deep laugh of his own. That was hot.
"It's because of your moans," he confesses, stroking his cock up and down your wetness, "And I got hard from your kisses."
Sometimes you wish he wasn't so honest because his sentence got the reaction that he wanted. You moan loudly at his words, and he uses that opportunity to shove his cock into your pussy.
You scream as the cock hits your cervix, fucking you without any warning. He slowly hits your deepest parts before pulling out and doing it again. It hurts, but you can't help but let out all kinds of noises.
"Be louder for me." he breathes into your mouth, tongue fighting with yours. He quickly picks you up, setting you down on the couch in his lap. He pushes you up on his lap, his cock sliding even deeper inside of your cunt. You're completely wrapped in his arms, and he cherishes your body. You moan louder, the entire room filled with your noises. he answers you with groans on his own.
You're too lost in the pleasure, but he's sure you're gonna get noise complaints tomorrow. It's not like he cares, he's looking towards it. Erwin wants to see the faces of your neighbors as they hear the lewd noises you make.
"I need your cum." you whine in high pitched voice. This one is going to do it, this is gonna tip the neighbors over the edge. He smiles at his thoughts, moving his finger to swipe over your clit, bringing you to your orgasm.
You can't even bounce on his lap with how close and overwhelmed you are. He pushes his cock inside of you a little gentler, hitting your sweet spot dead on. It doesn't even take him three thrusts before your vision goes fuzzy and your legs give you. Your orgasm hits you like a brick, and you fall in Erwin's arms.
The moans accompanied by your orgasm push him over the edge too, and he fills your insides with his warm cum. he doesn't waste any drop as he pumps it inside.
You lay on the couch, entangled in each other's presence. You look at him with your head on his chest, "You like when I'm right?" the mischievous smile you send him goes straight to his heart, which almost melts.
"I love it, sweetheart. But tomorrow we're gonna turn on the volume."
taglist: @mcharris747 @huuuuut30 @krispsprite @bejewelledd @cawwn @veryninjanacho @jamayah @dngerwayz @nwptune @universlypiratecolor @ffakegucci @merachannie @d1lf-luvr @th3girln3xtdoor @nobody289x @iheartpieck @gia999 @kawasgirl @st4rrlighttt @candyeyeroll @7haze @banchangsbbbg @nigthmar3moon @softlilpeachxx @d1gitalbathh @jaenniii @armahnsie @satorustar @balenciagarette @erp1007
#aot x reader#aot smut#attack on titan smut#aot headcanons#attack on titan x reader#attack on titan x you#erwin smith smut#erwin smut#erwin smith x reader#erwin smith x y/n#erwin smith x you
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in the late night, in a disguise
alternatively: of course people recognise her at 3am
in which logan has to dress entirely differently to run some late-night errands with her in the uk
(series masterlist)
"are you sure this is discreet enough for me to be seen holding your hand in public?" was what logan had asked her about an hour ago before they stepped out of their apartment.
discreet enough meant an oversized puffer jacket that covered nothing, and a simple cap to sort of shield himself away from being recognised too quick. though, the argument he tried to race was that he's not worried it would be him that would be spotted; it's her after the year she just had.
she simply answered him with a: "it's three in the morning, nobody's out on the streets at this time of the hour."
what she failed to factor in was that there's a local club that will close during the time they arrive at the convenience store about two blocks from their apartment.
logan's eyes widen at the crowd that's spilling out from the doors up ahead and drops his head low, pulling the hat further down his head as if it would help him shield himself from the reality of being found.
his oblivious girlfriend, however, keeps her lingering stare on the half-tipsy and stumbling bouts of clubgoers. she taps her fingers against the back of his, swinging their hands gently as he pushes the door open to reel her away from being recognised with his hand in hers.
"hm, what were we planning on getting again?" she asks softly, scanning the empty convenience store. "i want orange juice. could you help me find orange juice?"
"absolutely. meet at the cashier in 5 minutes?" logan asks, squeezing her hand very quickly as she tears herself away from him.
"okay. don't get anything stupid, logan."
"what makes you say that?"
"just don't," she sighs, flashing him one last smile before she disappears into the aisle right by the fridge.
five minutes pass by quicker than logan expected because he's still staring at the shelves of instant noodles. he just can't simply figure out which exactly he wants to get and eat once they make their way back.
perhaps meeting her a minute or so late wouldn't hurt. so he takes his time contemplating a list in his head, comparing flavours and brands before he settles for a pack of noodles that she would also very much enjoy.
while he walks the aisle leading towards the cashiers, he catches a glimpse of the pink jacket she's decided to wear out tonight. a smile stretches his lips as he calls out to her, "babe, sorry i'm late. i was- oh no."
when he steps out from the corner, catching a glimpse of the area, there's a group of three girls with beaming grins and their phones out. their eyes quickly shift over to him, their eyes widening even more as they slowly process the word that's just been said.
one girl, who had been in the middle of retouching her lipstick for a picture with the (y/n), drops her hand in shock as she looks at logan. then she looks at the driver in pink. "you guys are-"
"i'll pay you good money not to tell anybody," his girlfriend quickly says, hands darting out to gently touch her shoulder with pleading eyes. "can you guys keep a secret?"
"depends, how much are you willing to give to keep it a secret?" one of the girls giggles, a hand covering her lips. though, she straightens her back and her smile disappears when the driver's eyes start to tear up. "wait, i'm joking. of course, we can keep a secret!"
his girlfriend sniffles, wiping her nose on the cuff of her jacket. "are you sure? i can pay you something, i swear!"
"(y/n), no," logan says softly, pulling her back a couple of steps into his body. with a hand protectively on her shoulder, he smiles at the girls, tilting his head. "yeah, we are, but like... in secret."
one of the girls giggles, grabbing her friend's shoulder. "see, i told you they're dating."
the girl with her lipstick in hand, smiles before she puts it away into her bag once more. "that's cool," she admits with a nod. "can i take a picture with your girlfriend, though? meeting her is cooler than finding out something everybody speculates every other week."
"oh," the driver whispers, patting her eyes to dry the tears that had formed. "you think i'm cool?" she turns to logan and tugs at his jacket. "she thinks i'm cool."
"are you kidding?" another girl snorts. "you easily beat those guys on the track - you're amazing."
logan steps forward and puts his things down in the same place she'd momentarily put her stuff. he takes her phone from her jacket pocket and steps out. "absolutely. she's pretty cool, right?"
— bonus
"i can't believe they thought i was cool," she squeaks, tapping her card against the reader. "can you believe that? i'm getting recognised outside the paddocks."
"you're pretty cool, babe," logan grins giddily, holding the door for her as she walks in. "i think i lucked out asking you to be my girlfriend."
she rolls her eyes, waving away his statement. she presses the button to call for an elevator, then takes a step towards him. she tugs at the hem of his shirt as she leans into him and she looks up. "sorry someone saw us. you were right - we should have just stayed in."
"it's okay as long as you're okay with it," logan smiles, leaning down to chastely kiss her. "but this will happen more. you're growing to be quite the household name. i'm convinced i'm retiring as a wag rather than an f1 driver."
she frowns. "don't say that! next season will be much better for you."
"for us."
taglist: @myxticmoon
#tine is right#i really AM making a home out of the ls2 tag#somebody needs to stop me i fear#logan sargeant#logan sargeant x reader#logan sargeant x you#female driver#fem!driver#f1 female driver#f1 x you#f1#disneyprincemuke#disneyprincemuke imagine#disneyprincemuke imagines#disneyprincemuke f1#disneyprincemuke ial
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Housewife
Part - 6
Summery: Billy and Stu have been planning these murders for quite some time. Everything is going to plan until you show up. What happens when they meet someone who is just as mentally deluded as they are?
Pairing: poly!ghostface x fem!reader
Warnings for this series: ⚠️ explicit 18+ ⚠️ murder, blood, smut (will be more in depth on smut chapters), power dynamics, a dash of sexism, knives, stalking, perverse behavior, cheating, oral fem!receiving, borderline degradation, orgasm dinial, bondage (hands being bound), blatant Billy x Stu stuff
Part 1
Stu pressed his face into Billy's shoulder running from the sunlight. "It's too early." He whined pulling his friend closer to him. Billy held him for a moment forgetting where they were. "Shit, where is she?" He pushed Stu away pulling the covers off himself. Stu dragged a pillow over his head hoping to drown out the light. Billy got out of bed heading down the stairs to the kitchen. The smell of food filled the air hitting him the moment he left your room.
"Morning sleepy head. How do you like your eggs?" You smiled at his current state. His hair was messy and his eyes were dark with sleep. "Uh over medium?" 'This couldn't be real' he thought to himself. It was all adding up now the house, the absent parents, you, it wasn't real. Some really realistic and very long dream. Maybe he was in a coma? If you were real you'd be almost as fucked up as him.
"Did you know you snore just a tiny bit?" You asked as you flipped his eggs. "I don't snore. Must've been Stu." He took a drink of the prefilled glass of orange juice in front of him. "It was definitely you. I kept waking up with your face in my neck and your snores were really loud next to my ear." Was that embarrassment he was feeling? "Sorry about that." He paused thinking of his next words. "So you're not mad that we slept in bed with you?" Bacon, eggs, and a perfect pancake laid next to each other on the plate. You nodded thinking that would be enough.
"I told you if it got too cold you could climb in bed with me." You sat his plate down making sure to leave him syrup. "Can I have a second plate? I don't like my eggs to touch my other food." You raised your eyebrows with a nod. "Sure thing." You handed him a saucer plate that came with the set. "How much do you remember last night?" You remembered all of it. The little tired act you pulled was a sham. A test is what you'd call it. Luckily they passed. "Listen Billy, I don't care about whatever's going on between you and Stu. This doesn't change anything." Billy could laugh. "You think I'm a homo?" His face was plastered with a sort of dumbfounded expression. "No, I just think you're Billy."
"I'm not like that. Stu's always been the one to bat for both teams." You pursed your lips with a nod. "All I'm saying is, you don't have to lie or hide. We've all got secrets and I'm not going to judge you in the slightest." You were wrong. But Billy focused on the underlining meaning of all you said. "What if I told you I was psychotic?" Billy asked no sign of a joke. "I'd tell you I was too." He bit off a piece of bacon. "And what if I said I was a stalker?" You laughed. "Me too. When I walk by a classroom I know you or Stu's in I look for you both just to watch you for a second, that's stalker behavior."
Billy almost choked on his food. God you really were innocent. "What's so funny?" You said laughing along side him. "Okay... What if... I said I've murdered people." You frowned. Does he really think he's that bad? "You're not a murderer." You said as you poured syrup on your pancake. "I know, but if I was what would you say?" You actually thought about it. Four days you've known him now, that's not enough to constitute a prison sentence for harboring a fugitive. "There's a reason for everything. I'd ask you why you did it."
"There's not always a reason, a "motive." I mean did Norman Bates have a motive? Did they ever really decide why Hannibal Lector liked to eat people?" The food in your mouth didn't seem as good as before. "Your logic is flawed Billy. Norman killed his mother because she was abusive and neglectful when was a child. That's motive. He murdered every woman he found attractive because his Mother's personality would be jealous and she needed Norman all to herself. Motive. And he murdered that cop because he didn't want to be caught. Once again motive." Billy sat wide eyes staring at you.
"Oh and Hannibal Lector was also abused as a child. In the book it says his sister was killed by some men who had taken Hannibal and his sister captive. They murdered his sister in front of him and then cooked her eventually serving pieces of her to Hannibal. You could look at it like a revenge plot that's motive or later on he shows obvious signs of narcissism. He thinks he is above everyone so eating them really isn't a problem. We eat animals because we think our lives mean more right?" Billy just nodded.
"Okay so if Hannibal thinks he is better and his life means more than everyone around him then is it really even cannibalism to him? He's completely detached so that's also motive. He's simply hunting his next meal like we would a pig or a cow." You took a drink of your orange juice waiting for a response. Billy was speechless. "You're not the only one who knows stuff Billy." You spoke finishing off your food. "I'm beginning to realize that."
Stu finally came downstairs and he finished up everything that was left over from your talk with Billy. "Do you always cook like this?" Stu asked wiping his mouth with a napkin. You washed dishes as the boys sat at the table. "When my dad is home I do. I don't really need to fix a whole meal if I'm the only one here." That made Stu think of what it was like for you here all alone. He hated being home alone it was like he was 10 years old and scared of the dark. Every little noise would make him paranoid. It wasn't until Billy moved in that he felt safe. Maybe you just needed someone to make you feel safe?
Stu had pulled out the deck of cards begging you and Stu to play rummy with him. That was an hour ago. "She is kicking our asses." Stu said as you shuffled the cards again. "Ooh okay I've got a question. Do guys try to create fake scenarios before they go to bed?" Both boys looked confused as you dealt the cards. "Like girls, before we go to bed we'll think of our crush or an actor and we'll plan out our own little movie in our head." You grew uncomfortable with the fear you sounded insane. "I've fantasized about things before bed." Stu said and Billy nodded in agreement.
"No that's not the same thing. Like you and Tatum. Do you plan little dates and stuff like that in your head?" Stu made a "pfft" noise looking at Billy who was smiling. "He's never taken her on a date. They just run around together." Your jaw dropped. "I have got to tell her to raise her standards." Stu sat down his cards interested in the conversation. "Okay Ms. Crocker what are you standards? I'm guessing you're very Catholic." He laughed and you made a face at him.
"First of all the guy I'm with has to take me out every once in awhile. Bring me flowers, write me notes, anything really to show he still cares." Billy didn't believe that. You might want that in some romanticized version of them but you knew that it wasn't realistic. "I've known you for almost a week and I can already tell you fall in love with anyone who gives you 5 seconds of attention."
You acted shocked at the incredibly correct description of you. "Whatever. Can't a girl want someone to take her out and show her off? I'm a prize and I will be treated as such." Billy finished of his drink sitting the glass down with a click. "Until the first guy that comes along says he liked your outfit and then you're ready for marriage." You really couldn't argue with that. "Yeah pretty much."
"I'm bored. Winning time after time does get a little old." You said putting down your cards. "We could play truth or dare." Billy looked between you and Stu deciding to do whatever you wanted to do. Truth or dare was a kids game. One you were skilled at playing. "I'm game unless Billy's chicken." You elbowed him playfully. "I never say no to a game."
You and the boys moved to the living room floor. Stu laid on his stomach, his chin resting on his palms. Billy however was sat criss cross his posture straight and on edge. "You go first since it's your house." Stu suggested. "Um okay. Stu, truth or dare?" He kicked his feet in thought. "Dare." You hated thinking of dares it was the hardest part of the game.
"I dare you to put on lipstick." Billy breathed out a laugh. "Do I get to pick the color?" Stu asked not at all phased by the dare. "Sure let me go grab my makeup bag. You jumped up running to your bathroom. Just as fast you ran back to the living room. "I've got pink, red, maroon, black, and orange."
"I'm about to waste my turn on making you wear the black." Billy said, surprised you owned such a color. "I went through a phase." You laughed as Stu grabbed the red. You gave him the compact you brought in letting him slowly smear on the waxy pigment. "How do I look?" He flipped his imaginary long hair. "Actually you pull it off." You said staring at his lips for a little too long. "Billy, truth or dare?"
Billy looked at Stu not ready for him to pick a dare. "Truth." You once again saw a silent conversation playing across their eyes. "Have you ever made a sex tape?" Stu said looking his friend up and down. "I knew you'd eventually bring up sex." You huffed with a laugh. "I have not. I'm more of a picture man myself." Billy locked eyes with you making your cheeks grow hot. "Truth or dare Y/n?" You didn't feel at ease by picking either of those. Go big or go home was what your grandparents always said.
"Dare." Stu proceeded to make the "ooh" sound as if someone just got into trouble. "I dare you to play the rest of this game with your hands tied." If your face wasn't hot before it was burning now. "Now that's a dare baby!" Stu shouted kicking his feet like a school girl. You looked around the room for something to get the job done. You grabbed a scarf sitting on the end table by the couch. "Which one of you knows how to tie a knot?" Both boys volunteered but Billy was the one to actually do it. "Don't rip it, it's vintage." Billy rolled his eyes roughly tugging your arms towards him. His quickness in wrapping your wrists was making you wonder how many times he's done this before.
"There you are." He marveled at his work for a moment. You pulled back resting your bound hands in your lap. "My turn!" You cheered. "Wait, you're not going to try to get out of it? See if the knot is good?" Billy expected you to pull at the knot with your teeth just to show him you could. Thinking back to the little race you had at the mall you seemed like the type to try to show people up. That was one thing about you he didn't care for. "No? You told me to keep my hands tied for the rest of the game."
You saw his pupils dilate just a little. It was like catching lighting in a bottle to you. Billy liked the fact you mindlessly followed orders. You were a smart girl but you were dumb for him. "Truth or dare?" You asked Stu ready to continue the game. "Um... Hmm... Let me think?" His sarcasm made you bite your lip to stop from smiling. "Dare." You had one in mind already and it was hazardous. If this didn't go as planned it wouldn't be good for anyone in the room. On the flip side of that if this went how you were sure it would you three would be great friends from here on out.
"I dare you to sit on Billy's lap for the next round." Stu snapped his neck turning to Billy but the brooding boy kept his eyes on you. Billy wanted to know your angle. The reason you did things. You said it yourself everyone has a reason for doing something. What was yours? "Is that alright man?" Stu asked and Billy nodded with a huff. "Just get over here." Stu didn't need to be told twice. He mouthed a quick "thank you" making you smile. You saw Billy's eyes shut in what could be perceived as pain as Stu wiggled around trying to get comfortable. "Stop. Moving." Billy placed his hand on Stu's thigh keeping him still.
"It's my turn right?" Billy asked while he leaned back, one arm propping him up off the ground. "Sure is." Stu quipped. "Truth or dare?" At this point you'd look like a chicken if you said truth. "Dare." Billy's tongue swiped over his teeth before he spoke. "I want you and Stu-y here to make out." He smacked his friends back borderline hurting him. You didn't plan for that and by the looks of it neither did Stu. "I can't leave your lap remember?" The boy on his lap spoke. "You don't have to, she can crawl over." He spoke matter of factly. "I don't remember being dared anything." You challenged. "You said you wanted us to make out. That might say something about you but it's not a dare."
"You're a smartass." He spit playfully. "I dare you and Stu to make out. Is that better sweetheart?" Billy spoke the last word with a condescending tone. Which given the context, you'd pay to hear it again. "Perfect." You crawled over to the boys sitting back on the heels of your feet. Stu leaned down whispering an affirmation. "You don't have to do this if you don't want to." You weren't sure if the sudden sweet nature was because of where he was sitting or if it's always been there and you just haven't noticed.
A silent nod was all he needed to press his lips against yours. Stu was scared to move. He had that feeling you only get when you're about to drop off the highest spot on a rollercoaster. He wasn't quite sure where to go from here. You moved your lips against his showing him you were okay. Gently his hand cupped your jaw the same way he did with Tatum the other night. This wasn't commanding however he was simply holding you in the best way he could. Billy grunted as Stu's hips began to move again subconsciously.
The polite kisses became hungry as he pulled on your bottom lip with his teeth. A soft moan could be heard coming from you. Billy had seen enough. He grabbed his friends shoulders pulling him back. You caught your breath as you looked at the ground. Stu's face was bright crimson in embarrassment but Billy couldn't ignore the love drunk expression on his partners face. You were done playing truth or dare. "Can you untie me?" You held out your hands towards Billy trying to ignore the obvious tent in his pants. Slowly he made his way over to you crawling like a predator stalking it's prey.
"No, the dare was you had to keep them tied till the end of the game." You shook your head with an awkward laugh. "Well truth or dare is over." His face was a breath away from yours. "You're right but our game isn't over." Stu watched as Billy pressed his lips onto yours. You picked up right where you left off with Stu. In a way the short haired boy felt cheated on. He felt he went through a whole relationship with you in that one little kiss and now he watched his best friend take what was never his to begin with.
Billy hovered over you as he laid you back against the floor. Pulling his lips away he noticed how every single person here had rid lipstick smeared along thier face. "Stu come here, I need your help." You turned your head watching your friend fumble over towards the both of you. "Keep her busy like you were earlier. Can you do that for me baby?" Billy asked as his hand held Stu's chin. He nodded earning a gentle tap on the cheek from his friend. "Good boy." You watched their whole dynamic change right in front of you. Suddenly all Billy had was pet names and Stu was practically silent.
Stu was waiting for something but he wasn't sure what. "Please..." You whispered pushing him a step further. He leaned his head down kissing your neck. Softly at first leaving a small trail of kisses across your collarbones. Then he began licking and sucking at the skin trying not to leave a mark. Small sounds fought their way up your throat presenting themself like a gift from God to Stu. You really didn't care where Billy went as long as Stu continued what he was doing.
He nibbled at your earlobe forcing you to rub your thighs together. You barley felt your shorts being slipped down your legs. Little kisses began at your ankles slowly trailing up your legs. The higher they got the sloppier they became. "You're not even trying to win the game." Billy shook his head expecting more from you. "What.. are the rules?" You moaned out Stu now marking up your chest. With a laugh Billy said, "You know I hadn't even thought about that." God he was a prick and you were a horrible person for thinking it made him hotter.
Stu lifted your top pulling it above your breasts. "You're so pretty..." He said without thought. Somehow that word meant more than all the other words in that moment. "You're not too bad yourself handsome." He looked at the floor with a big grin on his face. With a quick shake of his head he went back to work. Your tied up hands played with his hair as he swirled his tounge around your hot skin. Billy ran a finger up the middle of your panties, the unexpected feeling making your hips jolt. "Guess foreplay really does work." Your head tossed back with a suffocated moan as Stu tugged gently at your nipples. One being teased by his teeth just to be soothed by his tounge seconds later.
Billy squatted next to Stu just watching your face contort in pleasure. "If you weren't such a prude I could totally see you as one of those Victoria's Secret models." He spoke running his hand along your cheek. Billy grabbed the back of Stu's shirt peeling him off of you to your dissatisfaction. "Why don't you show her your hidden talent hmm?" The sinister smile on Stu face made your stomach twist and pussy throb. Billy stayed next to you watching as Stu pulled off your panties. "Toss em'." Billy spoke catching the underwear after his friend pitched them. He waved the damp fabric above you. "How important are these to you?" Stu began kissing and biting your thighs not leaving much room for you to talk. "You can have them!" You blurted as your hands tugged at Stu's hair. "That's sweet of you. I was going to take them anyways but thanks for the permission."
Stu ran his long tongue up your folds making the world stop for a second. His hands pulled your thighs further apart giving him more room to work. "His tongue is by far one of my favorite things about him." Billy's finger traced your throat slowly making his way to your breasts. He pinched your nipple between his fingers making your back arch up off the ground. "Fuck!" You cried and Billy smiled. Your grip on Stu's hair became almost painful but he couldn't care less.
Your thighs wrapped around his face as you crossed your ankles on his back. "Don't kill him, I need him for this next part." Billy laughed. His thumb pulled at your lip debating on where all this should go. "Stu! Babe, please! Don't stop. Seriously don't fucking move just keep doing that." Your fear of that building pleasure disappearing was recognized by everyone in the room. "Stu stop." Billy commanded and you gave him a crazed look. "Please don't I'm begging you." Stu's eyes looked up between the both of you not sure who to obey. "Baby I mean it. Stop." The pressure was gone and so was any sort of happiness. "I'm going to kill you." You spat at the men.
"You're really scary." Billy scoffed waving at Stu to come over to him. Without any sort of warning to either you or Stu, Billy pressed his lips against the boy's. Billy's tongue swirled around tasting you secondhand. Your brain was fried. You were not longer mad but you were sure to explode. A knock came at the front door scaring the shit out of you and Stu. "Oh for fuck's sake." Billy groaned pushing his friend back.
"Y/n?" At that voice Billy's face grew pale. "Stu help her with her clothes now." You wanted to cry. "Why the fuck are they here?" Stu whispered everyone panicking at the same time. "Please open up!" Sydney called out as Tatum continued banging on the door. Once you had your clothes on the two boys ran towards the stairs. "Shit my hands you idiots!" You whisper yelled making Billy run to you quickly untying the knots. "You've got lipstick all over you." Billy said smiling at the markings. "God damnit!" You ran upstairs grabbing a makeup wipe off your desk. You frantically rubbed your neck running back downstairs. "Here." Billy said snatching the wipe from you. He wiped the color from your face making sure to get most of it off your chest. "Better?" You asked. "It's gone." With a smack on your ass, Billy ran up to your room following Stu. You reeked of sex and you looked like it too.
"Coming!" You yelled running around trying to find something to spray the air with. Air freshener filled the room and thankfully covered you. Quickly you fixed your hair and opened the door. "Yeah?" Tatum pushed past you walking into the living room where a horrible display of debauchery had just occurred. "Okay." You said as Sydney followed her friend. "The killer called me last night." Sydney said on the brink of tears. "He's a fucking psychopath. He told her he'd kill her like he killed her mother." Tatum said, quickly apologizing to Sydney for the graphic rehash.
Billy and Stu stood there completely taken aback. "I thought you said you had to plan around this!" Stu snapped. "We did- we do! Why would you call Syd last night? Are you that fucking dumb?" Billy poked Stu understandably pissed about being blindsided by his best friend. "I went to sleep last night unlike you. Don't blame this shit on me because it backfired." They argued back and forth while you talked to the girls downstairs. "Okay so what do we do?" You asked hoping for a good answer. "You could stay at my place till this bastard's caught. My mom doesn't want you staying here by yourself."
You sat your head in your hands ready to cry. You didn't know what to do or who to trust. "I couldn't intrude like that." You said as Sydney sat down next to you on the couch. More so you didn't know what to do with the two men stashed in your bedroom. "That's crazy. We'd rather have you intrude than be murdered." Sydney said resting her hand on your knee. Tatum just nodded. "We're not taking no for an answer." The blonde said.
"I'll meet you all over at your place. I've got some stuff to do before I go." You shouted down the stairs hearing the front door close behind them. "What's going on?" Billy played dumb. "There's a serial killer running around that's what. You two need to get home and stay safe." You grabbed a bag from your closet packing clothes. "Where are you going?" Stu asked a little sad at the outcome of today. "I'm going to Tatum's place for a bit." Billy and Stu just stood there watching you angrily pack away your things. This was their fault. You were scared because of them. It genuinely made them both feel like shit.
"There's a spare key under the rock in the flower pot outside. Get your car and make sure to lock the place up when you leave." You didn't mean to be short with them or make them think you were mad. You enjoyed your time with them but you realized after they ran off and hid that this wasn't real. You had romanticized another situation that would never in a million years be real.
Part 7
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CHAPTER 8: TERMINAL PARADISE
ੈ✩ gojo satoru x reader, geto suguru x reader
He likes to braid your hair while you braid Suguru’s. He thinks of bringing the bed from his room into yours, pushing the two twins together to fit the three of you. Looks at you both with puppy eyes.
ੈ✩ chapter cw/tags: explicit content (18+ mdni) , unprotected sex, high/drunk sex, dubcon, somnophilia, oral sex, threesome, the boys being........ evil?
ੈ✩ wc: 7.7k
ੈ✩ a/n: what's upppPP i'm a little tipsy rn but. here is chapter eight. title from the adrianne lenker song. anyways this chapter is very self-indulgent but as i read it back it makes me like. sad. i shan't elaborate. it's very stupid olympic sex i'll tell u that. belligerent fucking if u will
playlist ✸ read on ao3 ✸ series masterlist
June, 2009
Heat sticks onto you like a leech. You’ve started to think you’ve become one, what with the dark side of your technique. You walked the halls feeling like a white deer that failed to blend into a thicket.
You latch onto your boys like a leech, too. Fighting for space in the same sky in between the sun and the moon. Suguru likes to tell you you’re the stars in small ways, always a gleam in your eye despite mostly feeling dim. There isn’t much time for moping anymore, Satoru tells you. It’s the summer, after all.
It’s quiet on Onjuku Beach. Well, quiet enough, save for the occasional splashing and the sound of Satoru’s cackles as he swims underwater and pulls Utahime’s ankle. You hold back laughter, watching her lash out like she usually does, Satoru running away like a little kid.
You take a bite of watermelon, the juice dripping out of the corner of your mouth. When you feel Suguru’s weight on the blanket next to you, you give him a slice. He wipes your mouth with the pad of his finger and tastes it on his tongue. He’d gotten accustomed to grooming you like that. Braiding your hair and sticking petals in it in the spring. Rubbing your shoulders with suntan lotion.
You glance at him afterward, when he’s not looking, grappling with the urge to bite him on the shoulder. You think that maybe Satoru would. You aren’t sure if you have the same privilege.
The afternoon drags on, barely changing the summer sky as the tide stays consistent between you and the moon. Shoko and Utahime had headed back an hour before, leaving Satoru’s head in your lap and Suguru seemingly napping underneath a Murakami novel.
You’d scrunched your nose up at the sight of it—Norwegian Wood. You’d teased Suguru about it, accusing him of being pretentious with a secret love for hollow female characters. He’d rolled his eyes, tipping back a beer, teasing you for bringing No Longer Human.
“Talk about dysfunctional and sad,” he sneered.
Satoru’s damp hair isn’t helping the shiver of your thighs, the sheen of your smooth skin now riddled with goosebumps. He’d teased you for taking the time to shave every part of your body before the mission, something you never did. Keeping up your appearance when you didn’t need to for him. Suguru likes a bush, too, you know.
You flushed when he said that, like your face was on fire.
Being day drunk is fun, you decide. Haziness suits the three of you.
You’re sweltering, to say the least, considering the late afternoon sun is setting in a place that hits you directly. Suguru stirs. You feel his warm breath on the side of your thigh as he rises, rubbing his eyes.
“You think I tanned unevenly?” he asks, squinting at you.
You shake your head, smiling. He smiles back, yawning just before he snaps the side of your bikini bottom without warning. You wince in surprise, blushing.
“Wanna wake up the prince?”
“But he looks so sweet when he’s asleep,” you sigh. “And so quiet.”
“Real fuckin’ quiet,” Suguru laughs. He pauses as he looks at Satoru, as if skimming his face for something. He flicks his nose with his finger, making Satoru flinch and whine.
“C’mon, Satoru. Up.”
He mumbles something in between a whimper and a slurred mutter, nuzzling his nose into your lap until you feel his hot breath fanning your cunt. He whines even more when you shift, attempting to get to your feet and put on your cover-up when he latches onto your wrists with his hands.
“We gotta go,” you coo softly.
He obliges with a pout. Satoru had rented a house with an ocean view for the three of you to stay in, much too luxurious for a mission that would only last a few days. But he had the expendable funds, and he refused to stay in a hostel like you had suggested.
He continues his petulant attitude, his stride like that of a child on vacation. It did feel like a vacation, if you had to be honest. The curses you’d exorcised the day before were hardly exhausting.
It’s only been three days in Onjuku, but you think that the boys are plotting against you.
It’d started the first day, Thursday, after a few exorcisms and one Special Grade made of tongues that they were able to kill in record time. Satoru had insisted on showing as much skin as possible, citing the heat. He was wearing your favorite shirt of his, unbuttoned to show off his alabaster skin, unblemished by anything at all, not even the hot sun.
He’d also insisted on dessert for breakfast, pointing out the novelty shops along the coast of the local town with the titillation of a real tourist, as if he hadn’t spent weekends there as a child. That’s how the three of you ended up eating popsicles for breakfast.
He was being annoyingly sly, pinching and prodding at you all morning like a little boy. He’d insisted on mimosas before noon, Suguru oddly going along with his antics at your expense. You’d had popsicles at the beach after. Satoru wouldn’t stop staring at you, blinking through the brain freeze as his mouth went to work on something strawberry-flavored. He was obscene with it, his tongue moving in languid movements, disgusting you but burning your skin at the same time.
His lips were stained bright red for the rest of the afternoon, but it looked so beguiling that it had you distracted for the rest of the day. You knew you could have him — he had never played hard to get — but something would gnaw at you telling you the opposite. Made him like forbidden fruit, deluding you.
For one, he was either missing your signals or feigning oblivion, a game that you willingly became a pawn to. He had always taken up too much space, but now he was tugging at your hair like you were twelve again despite your protests.
And then, when you were brave enough to sneak a hand on his thigh underneath the dinner table or cuddled a bit closer to him in bed, he did nothing.
Suguru was less obvious about teasing, which made you feel like you were crazy.
It started with small grocery runs. Suguru accompanied you after Satoru refused to go on the principle of having enough money to dine out for every meal. It felt domestic to pick vegetables with him. Both times, he’d thrown in a treat or a drink that he knew you would like without asking. He’d praise you after the day’s work in ways that set your guts on fire.
He had also, it seemed, picked up the same habit as Satoru of tugging your hair to get your attention. There had been fleeting touches to your waist, too, when he would simply be passing by you after you were done showering. Absent-mindedly, as light as an apparition. Shifting bodies as casually as two people passing in a crowded bar, yet it felt like a car crash to you.
He’d continue that for the second day. Even yesterday, when you had been using the outdoor shower to rinse off after the beach, Suguru had walked in with a drink to offer. Despite still being in your bathing suit, you had felt scandalized by his gaze alone.
Now, on Saturday evening, you’re alone with him in the beach house while Satoru attends a meeting in Shinjuku against his will.
Suguru lays on the couch lazily, his tongue jutting out to lick the side of a joint in between tea-flavored papers. You walk into the living room with a yawn, having just woken up from a short nap after reading on the porch. At twilight, the sky flushes pink and purple above the horizon.
You think about what to eat for dinner, thinking about the prospect of cooking with Suguru alone, which should come as a wholesome, harmless daydream, but truthfully makes your face warm. There are plenty of restaurants down the street, some that even delivered, you recall from a brochure left on the counter. You were intrigued by a seafood restaurant that Satoru had promised to take you to—
“Want a hit?” Suguru’s voice interrupts your ruminating.
“Oh,” you blink. “Um, sure.”
He chuckles as you join him on the couch as if he can read your mind. “It’s like Shoko’s cigarettes, I promise.”
“I know,” you frown, pouting. “I’ve smoked weed before.”
“Last time we passed a blunt around, you kept talking about how it’s against the law.”
“It is!” you mumble, shrugging.
“Yes,” Suguru grins. “And we’re sorcerers that wield magic and kill monsters.”
You roll your eyes, taking the joint from his fingers. He hands you a Zippo, the very one that you had gifted to Shoko months before. You’d have to remember to pocket it afterward to give back to her.
Suguru chuckles when you take a hit and inevitably cough. When he takes it back, he huffs and exhales a cloud towards your face, grinning with ivory teeth as his Adam’s apple rolls back. You can’t help but fixate your gaze on it.
He taps your knees in a rhythmic pattern with his fingers when you take the next hit. Already, your vision is vignetted with hazy white, but every movement between the two of you feels incredibly sharp, as if you’re wielding the Six Eyes in a dream. Your mouth feels dry, your lips bitten down by your teeth.
Suguru had been too lazy to change after the beach, barely in the mood to shower until the dampness of his swim trunks had gotten to him. He’d changed to another pair of shorts, the inseam short enough to allow exposure of his tanned thighs, and not bothering with a shirt because of the humidity. Even this close to him, he still smells like sea salt. His long hair was slightly textured, naturally tousled by the ocean.
You sink into the couch, sighing. You feel as though you're overheating. Despite this, Suguru is next to you, thigh to thigh, the spot in between you burning.
His lips feel chapped, his tongue dry from cotton mouth. He thinks about sticking it down your throat.
The radio that comes with the house is old as shit, something inexplicably adorable enough to be in a vintage shop but not practical enough to own considering it would buzz every few minutes. The signal is weak, crackling as Tatsuro Yamashita plays at a low volume.
Suguru throws his legs over your lap as he inhales, passing the joint to you but not releasing it. Instead, he merely holds it to your mouth himself, lighting it with Shoko’s Zippo.
Normally, you’d shake yourself after a session, splash your face with cold water before you would start imagining things. You were addicted to the feeling of his fingertips, the sensation exacerbated by your high. The last time you were like this, you’d pictured Suguru’s mouth on your cunt, the image bombarding your mind throughout the night. You numbed the urge with alcohol, still taking bong rips until you threw up in Shoko’s trash can.
You don’t think you’re hallucinating this time. His fox eyes point at you and descend down your face and jaw.
“No more,” he says.
“Why not?” you whine.
“Your eyes are glazing over,” Suguru chuckles. “So fucking gone.”
“I'm not,” you sigh, pushing his legs off of you and leaning into his shoulder.
He welcomes you with open arms, allowing you to lay your head on his chest. He smells like his sunscreen, coconut from his fragrance, salt from his body. His skin is incredibly warm too, but so is your entire body, particularly your chest. You can feel your heart beating. You can feel his palm on your thigh. Scorching.
So touchy with you. You wonder if he’s high on anything else. Maybe that was why he was so affectionate today.
Suguru stretches his legs across the couch, your body like a doll’s in between his thighs. He cracks open the can of beer beside him—when had he gotten up to get one?
It’s more humid at night. Or maybe it was the slick of his skin. Either way, you think your hair must be matted with sweat, a messy braid loosening at the back of your head. Strands spin in between Suguru’s fingers like loose threads of a sweater.
“You’re excited.”
“What?” you squeak out, surprised. His voice interrupts a miasma of inebriated thought loops, dripping desire bombarding the forefront of your mind.
“Your heart’s beating fast,” he observes. “And you get real horny when you're high.”
"I don't—”
"Don't think Shoko and I don't notice Satoru stealing you away when we smoke," he laughs.
His fingers curl around your jaw, lowering to feel the quickening pulse of the right side of your neck. You’d surely smell like him by the time you shower tonight. Coconut and sea salt and beer.
You shake your head.
Suguru had been at a deficit with you for the past six months. He would dream about your cunt sometimes, the sight of you on New Year’s permanently etched into his brain. He and Satoru still looked at the same magazines they’d collected in adolescence, spilling ropes of white to the same pages that had always gotten him going, but you were still more prominent in his head.
He would think of your mouth parting from the sensation of his fingers pushing through the slick of your pussy. Your tongue exploring the underside of his neck.
Satoru has been overly possessive ever since the school year started. Suguru had started to believe that he would never have you again and that he should accept it. He didn't feel particularly entitled to you. The Six-eyed sorcerer had his claim on you since he was a child, anyway—Suguru would learn to get over it.
But now, here you are, in his lap. Your breath quickens at the feeling of his hand on your thigh. Suguru could bet that you were soaking through your panties, perhaps from the moment you found yourself alone with him.
Lately, Suguru wants you more than he wants Satoru.
He loved Satoru so much, more than he thought he was ever capable of since he’d met him at fifteen, but he constantly dreams of the softness of your skin instead. He liked that you were pliant, desperate. It’d be easy to coax a reaction out of you, letting him in the crux of your thighs with just the tiniest amount of teasing. Suguru knew that you would say yes to him as eagerly as you would to Satoru, your mouth already watering. It made him feel insane.
Your cheeks heat up when you feel his dick hardening beneath you. Prodding at the small of your back, the only thing separating you is a thin piece of nylon.
“Aw,” he purrs. “You have a freckle right here.”
“Do I?” you breathe, your eyes lowering down to where Suguru’s finger strokes the inside of your thigh, the tip of it caressing a dot of dark brown. So tiny that you hadn’t even noticed it yourself.
“S’cute,” he whispers. You shiver, then. His hot breath all over your neck is intoxicating. When his fingers skim your collarbone, he notices it’s hot to the touch, your pulse twitching the same as it does when he’d called you princess.
You swallow thickly, turning to face him in his lap. He says your name with a heaviness that has your heart sinking to your feet.
“Can I kiss you?”
You don’t answer, merely turning your head to melt into him. High out of your mind.
He’s careful with you. His lips are soft despite being a bit chapped, his aftershave prominent in the air with notes of sandalwood. There’s intent to it, something you didn’t often feel with Satoru over the past few weeks.
Your hands cup his jaw almost immediately, while his own hands cup the flesh of your thighs. They slide up to squeeze your ass, which forces a mewl out of your mouth.
He didn’t think his cock could get any harder, wanting to burst from his shorts. It hurt.
“You’re so warm. You got a fever or something?”
“No,” you breathe.
“Your skin is burning. Wanna take this off?” he grins. A shark smile. His fingers skim the hem of your dress.
You do it without him begging. He doesn’t even have to convince you — you’re peeling it off, exhaling at the feeling of the thick air around you. Even with the slip of fabric off, you still feel so fucking warm against him.
You yelp when he grabs your breast, squeezing it along with his tongue on your nipple.
“Suguru—”
Your whine falls flat. You don't remember if you were meaning to scold him or to beg for more. He smiles with his forehead pressed to yours, his hands smoothing up and down the skin of your sides.
“Pretty,” he muses.
“Pretty,” you repeat. He’s beautiful underneath you.
A beat passes. You don't know who closes the distance first.
It’s a gnash of limbs, of lips, of teeth. Devouring each other. The weed made you so fucking wet, dripping into his lap through your panties. He doesn’t bother with them, pulling them to the side to fuck into you without a warning. You don’t even recall him taking out his dick.
The feeling of him makes you want to cry.
He groans at the bulge of your lower stomach, his cock carving out the gooey parts of you for him to nest in. The flush of your cheeks makes you look like a flower. Your cunt blooming for him, hot and tight.
You feel like you’re being split apart, like the skin of a mandarin orange unfurling beneath his hands.
“You’re so fucking wet,” he sighs, gaining control of his voice. Humming instead of growling, like he’s sinking into a warm bath.
You think it would burn if you weren’t so wet, his girth thicker than Satoru’s.
He holds you by the hips, thrusting into you at a slow pace, breaking you open. Making a mess of your insides.
“Does Satoru fuck you this good?” he grins.
You’re too breathless to reply. As if you even could, your face feverish at his taunting. You didn’t think you could survive a grip harder than Satoru’s, but despite Suguru’s gentle demeanor, his hands on you are brutish.
You kiss him, licking up the taste of beer and weed, slightly herbal from the papers. He moans into your mouth when you grip his hair. It’s soft in between your fingers. Like real silk.
Suguru had dreamt about this for months.
“You look so pretty,” he grunts, teeth bared. “Fuck. Thought about this for so long.”
You whine at his admission. His cock is impossibly deep inside you, coupled with the sensation of your limbs melting like boiled sugar. You roll your hips, cunt spasming around him already. Your nails make crescent-shaped marks on the meat of his broad shoulders, mirroring the same ones that he had made from gripping your waist.
Suguru’s hand holds the crux of your neck, tipping your face upward to look at him dead in the eye. Everything in your body is cloying heat, making it difficult to keep your eyes wide open, but he forces it from you with deeper thrusts. His fingers coax your mouth open for you to suck on, making you whimper, making you choke on his digits.
There’s a flash in Suguru’s eyes, the smallest gleam that you had recognized in Satoru. Something predatory.
“Knew you’d be a good girl,” he whispers in your ear. “You think about me like this, don’t you?”
“Yes,” you whimper.
He pulls back, leaning back on the couch to let you have your rut, your pace eager like a starved puppy. Part of him wanted to mark you up just to piss Satoru off, though he knew the bastard would probably like it anyway.
“How do you think about me?”
“I—Suguru—”
“Tell me,” he teases, his smile serpentine. He pulls out to flip you over, your tits pressed against the arm of the couch. “Like this? Pulling your hair?”
"I think about your mouth. About your cock inside me," you say. Mindless. Under his spell.
The stretch from behind feels somehow deeper than before. He groans at the way your back arches, your hair in his fist. Your knees are already chafing from the leather beneath you, the back of your thighs burning from slapping against his skin.
“Close,” you choke out.
“Yeah,” he sighs, biting your shoulder. “Cum on my cock, princess.”
You could pass out like this, you think. Your vision is already spotty, air stolen out of your lungs from the brevity of his movements. Your mouth hangs, wide open and slack as a pitchy moan rolls out.
Suguru follows soon after you — he can’t help it when you sound like that. He’s addicted. Desperate to live inside you like this, high in every earthly sense. He has half a mind to pull out before he spills, but he can’t pry himself from you.
Still dizzy, you lay on him while he cleans up the mess in between your thighs, his cum nearly leaking onto the couch. You’re surprised when he grabs the back of your neck to kiss you again. Neither of you keep track of how much time passes as you make out like teenagers. You feel almost faint in his arms.
“Fuck, you’re still high as shit, aren’t you?” Suguru says, squishing your face in between his hands. He slides his dick back into his shorts, light soiled from precum. If he hadn’t put them on again, he probably would’ve been too tempted for another round. Even with your hand palming him while you made out, you were clearly in another dimension.
Looking at him makes you feel raw. Like letting him fuck you was the same as volunteering your heart on a pulpit.
“Dinner.” It feels strange to use your voice. Swapping spit with Suguru wasn’t doing much for hydration.
“Yes,” he chuckles. “Want to go to that restaurant?”
“Mm,” you whine, slinging an arm around his neck. “Let’s do takeout.”
Satoru manages to slip back late at night, long past the time you and Suguru had fallen asleep on the couch with the television on. He smirks at the sight, hovering over the two of you like the Grim Reaper. Suguru would surely snap at him if he was awake, but for now, the Six Eyes examine every contour of each of your bodies fit together like clasped palms.
The room smells like sex. Or maybe Satoru is projecting, his jaw only now relaxing after keeping his teeth so gritted during that stupid fucking meeting with the higher-ups. He kept thinking about you, distracted by the sight of you at the beach, your bare legs splayed out on the sand.
Suguru probably got to you first. Of course, he would. It makes Satoru bite his cheek, but it also makes the butterflies in his stomach feel like daggers.
He stills when he hears you hum, mumbling something unintelligible as you bury yourself in Suguru’s chest. It’s so soft, so innocent, yet Satoru has to excuse himself to your shared room so he can wrap his hand around his cock.
He thinks about your mouth when he’s close and decides not to finish. He’d rather feel you against him instead, skin to skin.
The sound of you mewling in your sleep is adorable to him — you do so in his arms as he lifts you bridal style, prying your body from Suguru’s grasp. When he puts you down in the bed, you look angelic.
Satoru rubs your thigh, prying your legs apart gently so he can suck kisses into the skin. You twitch, your breath heavy. Indulging in your dreams while Satoru indulges in his.
You squirm, stirring when you feel his tongue in your cunt. You’re already so wet for him, pliable and ripe for him even in your sleep. He tastes salt, the aftermath of his best friend’s release, and he laughs.
“Satoru,” you mumble, your voice still in a dream-like haze.
“I’m right here, baby,” he murmurs, licking a stripe from your clit to your belly button. “Missed me?”
“Mm.”
The air is thick with tension as he rises to slot his body behind yours. Satoru pumps his cock once before he slides into you without much warning. Despite being wet, your cunt burns.
“Sator—” He covers your mouth.
“So fucking tight,” he groans. “Thought Sugu would’ve loosened you up, huh?”
“Hurts,” you whimper.
“Take it,” he sighs. “Take it for me.”
His teeth on your shoulder make you dizzy. You still feel like you’re dreaming, but the stretch he has in between your walls makes it all too real. Satoru knows he doesn’t deserve you like this, but he’d decided the moment he stepped into the house that he would be selfish tonight.
He fucks you like he’s starved.
Even in the wine-dark night, he senses his best friend all over you with his Six Eyes. You’re covered in him.
You pant into his palm until he descends his hand to your throat, pulling you taut against him so that your back arches. He doesn’t bother with making you cum, mostly circling your clit to get you wetter. Inside you, he feels boneless, washed away of his irritation.
“Fuck,” he grunts. “Oh, fuck. ‘m sorry, baby.”
“Too much,” you whine.
He shoves his fingers into your mouth the same way Suguru had done hours before.
With a mean cant of the hips, you can feel his body slacken after warmth fills up your cunt. Your voice is high and needy on the comedown. You taste blood in your mouth from biting down on your lip too hard, chapped from all the kissing of today.
“Love you,” he mumbles, his mouth on the nape of your neck.
He falls asleep soon after, leaving you with your thoughts, still half-drunk on him, barely lucid. It makes you sick, the way you want him, the way you let him use you. But you liked it. You liked his violence and possessiveness as if his actions were love letters.
Satoru had you weaned on something so saccharine that you stopped caring about the possibility of it spoiling. You welcomed the rot anyway. You had your own to wield with your bare hands.
August, 2009
You dream about them sometimes. You were shocked that the boys didn’t have any more games to play with you during that weekend, the two of them collectively ignoring the smell of sex in the air and the casual touches. They still touched you in their own ways. Reminding you of yourself. Your role as a toy.
Sometimes, you dream about them together with you as the voyeur. You’d see their broad backs, sweat pooling into a navel. Tongue-kissing. They were both too large to fit on the dorm bed together, you’d imagine.
Satoru gets clingier. If that was even possible. He sleeps in your room instead of his more often now, leaving his clothes tucked messily in your bottom drawer. It’s almost domestic, the way he starts sweeping the floor like it’s a shared house, the way his toothbrush kisses yours in the chipped mug on the bathroom sink.
Even when he's not physically in your room, his presence always lingers. The amount of belongings left behind that are Satoru's continues to increase. Video games he forces you to play with him. Manga piled up on the corner of your desk.
He likes to braid your hair while you braid Suguru’s. He thinks of bringing the bed from his room into yours, pushing the two twins together to fit the three of you. Looks at you both with puppy eyes.
It’s during this time that you realize how touch-starved Satoru must’ve been as a child. He had clung to you then, too—always playing too rough, always finding a part of you to hold whether it had been your hand or your braids to pull. From an early age, he’d always needed that relief. Something to sink his teeth in fully.
He’s more than willing to wear his heart on his sleeve for you, which you find endlessly amusing. It makes him dopey, almost stupid in his affection for you. You’d consider yourself a girlfriend if either of you would say it out loud. Neither of you do.
Suguru likes to sneak up on you in small ways that evade Satoru’s watchful eyes. Like the times he sleeps in your dorm when Satoru is busy on a mission. Suguru will indulge your interest in movies that are more cerebral—psychological thrillers and slow cinema. Satoru doesn’t have the patience for it, always opting for a slasher horror or an action film. Suguru likes to be quiet with you in these instances. Likes to stroke your hair when you rest your head in his lap. Likes to fall asleep in your tiny bed, his larger body engulfing yours.
You’re being shared between them, though you aren’t sure of the conditions. You don’t have the guts to ask. You don’t even notice a significant change. Being attuned to the boys in physical and emotional ways is almost second nature to you, now.
Between July and August, the three of you are a set.
A crowded bed. Weed-induced makeouts. Someone’s hand snapping the waistband of your shorts and slinking downwards. Sometimes, you can’t distinguish their touches. You don’t care to.
August is golden light waking you from sweet slumber. August is liquid gold in the sky reflecting on smooth skin. Bare knees hanging from rooftops.
The summer loosens you up, much to Satoru’s delight. Enough to convince you to be more social, at least.
One night, your dorm is crowded—Shoko supplies the weed and Utahime supplies the alcohol.
Strip poker again. A unanimous decision because the school had poor ventilation and there were too many of you for your single box fan to air out the room. Shoko calls the game off knowingly—Satoru’s making his eyes at you again, drunk and high off his ass while you’re occupied with conversation. Any more clothing items stripped off and the rest of them would be kicked out of the room.
You all settle on a movie drinking game, then. Something stupid, something American that Yuki picks out. You think it’s funny that she hangs out given her anarchist values on sorcery.
Satoru is, of course, annoyingly clingy and annoyingly cute. Hogging up all your attention the second you lean into Suguru in the slightest bit. You almost want to scold him, maybe spray him with a bottle like he’s a cat.
He doesn’t bother to put his clothes back on—not all of them, at least. He leaves his shorts on, though you think they must be a size too small given the inseam. You’re still clad in shorts and a crop top, giving Satoru any excuse to touch any expanse of skin between your hips and ribcage despite the number of times you complain about being too warm.
The girls get too drunk too fast. Yuki falls asleep in Suguru’s lap while Shoko and Utahime end up making out without caring about who’s looking.
The minute the three of them are out your door, Satoru’s lips are on yours. Teeth adamant on biting into the flesh of your bottom lip like a predator. He tastes like strawberries this time. You can barely keep up before you register that Suguru is behind you, laughing, cursed energy flickering.
Despite everyone’s departure, the room feels smaller.
Satoru has never been so eager to show off like this, believe it or not. He usually waits until the two of you are alone, though your reaction time is always too slow and the flippant speed that he takes you the millisecond you get privacy together is always too fast.
Maybe sometimes, Suguru would be asleep nearby while Satoru would tease you to sleep, but he’d never be a part of it. Certainly not in the same room.
So it has you deeply flustered now, just like it had been those many months ago in the late hours of New Year’s Day. Rushed and torrid. Two pairs of snake eyes on you. Getting torn apart by two sets of hands.
It seems that your suspicions on that beach weekend were correct.
Satoru’s been bringing up Suguru when he fucks you lately, asking you if you think his other half is more attractive. If you’re thinking about Suguru while he’s inside of you.
Of course, you don’t answer—you never do. But Suguru seems to be in on it, given the amount of times he bumps into you, the way he’s started to call you Twigs. He seems to be everywhere, all the time, the exact second Satoru isn’t around. Like a scab that won’t heal.
He buys you lunch often, likes to treat you after studying the more practical parts of Jujutsu. Plays with your hair absentmindedly just like Satoru does.
He’s doing it now, making your scalp tingle as he presses his mouth gently at the nape of your neck—a stark contrast to Satoru’s tongue in your mouth.
“You gonna let Suguru watch, baby?” Satoru mumbles against your jaw, his breath hot. “Or d’you want him to join?”
You nod dumbly, barely aware of yourself. It’s how Suguru manages to get your shorts off so swiftly. His hands caress your shoulder blades with palms outstretched underneath your shirt. Your own pair of wings.
It’s too easy—like picking apart petals off a rose. Rough as the boys are, they don’t need to be. You’d fold over for them without much convincing. You can tell how much they love that about you, how Satoru probably whispers about it to Suguru in between classes when you aren’t watching.
So sensitive every time I touch her. Like it’s her first time all over again.
“Suguru,” you whine. “Kiss me.”
He laughs and looks at you like a shiny new toy. Precious. Suguru is somehow more boyish when he’s high, his cat-like smile as lazy as his slurred movements. He’s always graceful despite the posture problem he shares with Satoru. When he smokes, there’s a lightness within him. Rolls off the shoulders like water falling.
He’s perfect.
Satoru preps your cunt with his mouth. You cry out immediately, feeling the vibration of him beneath you. It was good that they cut you off from the joint considering how many beers you and Utahime were passing back and forth. You’re light enough now to feel every lick and suck so acutely, Satoru’s mouth making a mess of you.
Suguru works on your neck, then takes your nipple in his mouth. You swallow a moan. Kitten licks from both of them and you’re already convulsing.
“Think you broke a record, princess,” Suguru grins.
“Best girl,” Satoru sighs, biting into the meat of your thigh.
“C’mere. Let me taste her.”
You expect Satoru to huff in protest or move out of the way, but he doesn’t. He leans over your body and presses his mouth to Suguru’s, licking into it obscenely with a small groan. Your eyes widen with fascination, cheeks blooming.
“How is she?” Satoru smirks.
“Perfect. Just like always.”
You whimper in response. They both smile at you; God and the devil. You swear their faces blur into each other.
“That turn you on, baby?”
“She’s so cute,” Suguru muses. “All fucked out already.”
Something divine awakens in your blood. You want to indulge in them, be their pet. It’s like your brain is melting into a pool of desire, dripping out of you. You blink slowly, feeling a pressure in your stomach that bleeds of desperation.
“Want you both,” you pant. Your lashes flutter when Suguru feels the slippery plushness of your walls with his fingers. “Fuck, want it so bad. Need it.”
“So fucking wet, holy shit,” he groans. “All this for me?”
“You?” Satoru frowns. “I’m the one who made her cum.”
“And I’ll make her cum on my cock.”
“Dude—”
“You need to learn how to share, Satoru,” Suguru chuckles. His fingers are incessantly scissoring into you, yet the two of them bicker as if you aren’t there. “You owe me for getting us in trouble last week.”
“Oh, so it’s my fault that we both forgot to put up a veil—”
“Shut him up, will you, sweetheart?” Suguru interjects. “Shit, he’s hard as a rock.”
You whine when Suguru removes his fingers, but he’s quick to fuck into you. It’s whiplash, the stretch of him. Satoru rolls his eyes and leans in to cup your face with his hand, kissing you while his other hand pumps up and down his cock.
“Oh,” you gasp.”S-Suguru…”
“Does it hurt, pretty?”
“N-no. Feels too good.”
“Feels better than Satoru? Yeah?” he sneers.
Satoru glares at him, exhaling a groan in between annoyance and desperation as he palms himself.
“You know, I was gonna fuck her face but now I think that’s your job.”
“I’ll fuck you after, relax,” Suguru chides. “I wanna kiss her.”
He leans down. His messy bun has fallen out of its scrunchie — it’s one of yours. Even when he has his usual hairstyle, he keeps it around his wrist sometimes. Now, his hair tickles your face as he kisses you, hand to your throat to hold you in place while your hips quiver at the sheer girth of him.
“Satoru, c’mere,” you whimper.
He kisses you deeply before kneeling in front of you, his cock hovering over your face. You take him in your mouth, the flushed skin of his dick tight and throbbing underneath your tongue. You like the way he groans and pulls your hair, mirroring the way you were just pulling on Suguru’s hair when his face was buried in your neck.
“Holy fuck,” Satoru moans. His thighs twitch. Suguru’s right – you look fucked out, eyes rolling backward. Must be the drugs. Then again, Suguru’s hitting every sensitive spot inside of you at a relentless pace.
“Such a good mouth, Twigs.”
If you weren’t getting fucked, you would’ve cringed at that. You hate when Satoru calls you that in bed.
“Good cunt, too,” Suguru rasps. “Perfect cunt. Fuck, do you feel that, baby? Feel me up to your stomach?”
You moan around Satoru’s cock.
Satoru’s eyes are blown wide, a drop of blue expanding against the stark white of his sclera. He used to dream about this. His two favorite people in the world. It had occurred to him just then how much he wanted you both in the back of his mind. Wanted to consume you both in one bite.
He pulls out of your mouth, stroking his cock slowly as he watches.
You whine something unintelligible. Begging, mumbling. “Faster.”
“Any faster and I’ll cum, baby,” Suguru groans.
“Don’t cum inside her,” Satoru warns. “I’m still pissed at you for the last time.”
Suguru merely laughs. “Come over here and open your mouth then, pretty boy.”
His thrusts are getting sloppier but rougher. The impact of him is dizzying, the hand he has wrapped around your throat making you lightheaded. You can only stare with a parted mouth, fascinated by the succulent pink of his lips as he focuses on making you cum. You’re too out of breath to even tell him when it happens.
It turns you inside out. Liquefying your body like treacle.
“You’re so cute when you cum, baby,” Satoru coos, squeezing your breast.
“Fuck, fuck, Satoru, c’mere,” Suguru slurs. He pulls out of you then, pumping himself over Satoru’s tongue until his cum spills onto it. He swallows and scrunches his nose.
“Battery acid.”
Suguru laughs, then looks back at you. “You’ll have to weigh in on who tastes better, princess.”
“My turn,” Satoru grins, his eyes a bit feral.
You yelp when he manhandles you and gets you into his lap. He starts marking you up. Bites you a little too hard as if he’s trying to wake you up. When he thrusts into your cunt, you gasp, feeling him all the way into your guts. You spasm around him, still sensitive from Suguru.
He holds your hips and fucks into you at a steady pace while Suguru comes to caress your back, licking over your shoulder blades.
“Satoru, you’re going to make her look like a domestic violence victim with the marks you’re making.”
“She likes it,” Satoru pouts.
“Fuck, ‘m hard again,” Suguru groans. “Lay her down.”
“No, I want her like this.”
“Too fucking bad, I want you like this.” Suguru pulls at you until your back hits the mattress and Satoru rolls his eyes, gripping your hips with bruising force as he drapes your legs over his shoulders.
Suguru bites Satoru’s neck, peppering it with kisses. Watching them in front of you is tantalizing, makes you clench around Satoru harder.
“Shit, you like that, baby? You like looking at us?” Satoru moans.
“Y-yes.”
Suguru spits in his hand as he preps Satoru from behind. It’s minimal, given how impatient he is. He reaches over to your bedside table, fumbling with a bottle of lube. It doesn’t take long until his cock fills Satoru to the brim.
“Jesus.”
“Shut up and take it.”
Satoru feels too hot, too full. The feeling of Suguru’s cock in his ass inadvertently makes him bury himself even deeper into you, and he’s already on the brink. Suguru reaches over Satoru’s body to press a thumb to your aching clit until you cum with a strangled cry.
The boys try to time their stuttering hips at a similar rhythm, but Satoru feels like he’s losing his mind. Caught up in between both of you, melting, barely lucid. Eyes squeezed shut with his mouth falling open.
“Tell me you love me.”
You blink at him, wondering who he’s asking. The flush in his cheeks makes him look exhausted, spent. Drunk over the bacchanalian mess of it all.
“Love you, Satoru,” you whimper anyway. “I love you.”
He moans at that. Gasps when he feels the stretch of his hole split open on Suguru’s cock.
You watch with tears in your eyes, overstimulated from your orgasm. Over Satoru’s shoulder, Suguru locks eyes with you and smirks, not letting up eye contact nor the stimulation of your clit with his fingers. He doesn’t care that you’re convulsing underneath them, doesn’t care that hot tears are streaming down your face. He always thought you looked beautiful when you cried. It’s sick of him, maybe, but he wants to be the one to make you do it, even when it’s not his cock inside of you.
“Shit— Sugu—”
Satoru hits his peak, filling you with his cum when Suguru hits the perfect spot inside him. He’s whimpering. His eyes are glassy.
“Fucking shit, you’re tight,” Suguru mutters. “Gonna cum.”
“Not inside,” Satoru whines.
“You’re a fucking brat,” Suguru chuckles.
Of course, Suguru disobeys, cumming inside Satoru with a guttural groan. Once he pulls out, Satoru collapses on top of your body, face buried in your hair.
You whine. You’re overheated, smothered. Your body feels as though it’s been rearranged multiple times like malleable clay in each of their hands. It’s a miracle that Satoru pulls his dick out of you at all.
“The hell was that?” he asks Suguru, out of breath. Suguru simply smiles, ignoring him.
“Let’s run her a bath. Poor baby looks like she’s gonna pass out.”
He’s right, admittedly. You aren’t even sure if you could get up if you wanted to, which is why Satoru scoops you in his arms.
“We can’t all fit in the tub,” you mumble.
Satoru laughs. “Yes, we can. But fine, we’ll just shower after you.”
The two of them handle you like glass. The swapping of washcloths and soap bottles makes the ordeal ritualistic. Suguru runs his fingers through your wet hair while Satoru lifts one of your legs to scrub.
“Little princess,” Suguru says.
“You guys treat me like a pet.”
The two of them exchange a glance. Unreadable. But there’s something of a knowing smile in Satoru’s expression.
“You’re just precious s’all. Perfect girl.”
You sigh, sinking into the water. Something turns over in your stomach, but you’re soothed by the sound of Suguru lightly humming behind you. They’re gentle with you. It’s ironic.’
Suguru kneads your spine and presses kisses to your wet skin. The smell of sex dissipates and the scent of Suguru’s shampoo wafts under your nose instead—he’d left it in your bathroom one weekend when Satoru was out on a mission. You have a suspicion he did it on purpose to get a rise out of Satoru or to make you smell like him. You didn’t mind either way.
Every touch feels blistering as much as it feels soothing, somehow. White-hot, too noticeable, yet the feeling of their hands lets you exhale. Maybe it was the sex. You couldn’t even really look Satoru in the eye, not really. Something in the face was constantly changing, as if he was slowly transforming whenever you were joined together in ways that were beyond you.
He’d gotten rougher. Meaner in the hips, even if his kisses were meant to cherish. He’d get too eager. He always was, to be fair, but it’s been ferocious from him. Bruising your hips with the force of his hands, handprints adorning your ass. It would be Suguru to pick up the pieces, to soothe you with sweet nothings despite his cock splitting you open. It was only a few times since the beach trip, but it was as if they planned it together.
You realize this now in your post-sex haze. Steam in the air as heavy as your lids. They wanted to take care of you so badly. They just had to ruin you a little beforehand.
#gojo smut#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#jjk smut#geto x reader#geto suguru x reader#gojo satoru x you#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk x you#geto suguru x you#geto x you
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