#“he should be at the club” yes he should. he should be there being strange
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flamingostalker · 1 month ago
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Dwalin and his cosmo at the club standing cross-armed on the dance floor like this
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Blade 2: Axe of Justice
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nazunasgf · 1 year ago
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people's s/o tell their partners oh yeah you should meet my friends
meanwhile, 100% of my usual friend group... are his friends too.
#// rambles#hes told me that i should make friends who are not his friends#but everyone ends up being his friend too#i literally talk to this guy all day. then the two idiots. and thats it#plus hannah#but like hannah and daniel and i are like the math buddies#and hes like since when do you talk to aliyah#like yes i talk to aliyah now. but still like most of my irl friends are also. his friends. strangely#i didnt even know he and joan and noah knew each other but turns out they're in the same art class#AND I DIDNT EVEN KNOW HE KNEW JUSTIN TOO#SO REALLY WE JUST KNOW ALL THE SAME FOLKS#except he knows more folks than me#...#i think jiyoon didnt want to be his friend freshman year#so like. does she count#the thing is. making friends is hard#i literally broke down once because he and our friends were going to watch ghibli movies together and i was not invited#not that they exclude me im just not in their art class and it was their art class group#and i dont talk to anyone much besides my bf and noa and rats 003 and 013#ugghghgh i feel like sumin and i could be good friends tho#we met in japanese club but she's so funnnn to be around in person the few times we talk#except i have no way to contact her#in college i need to find my cs girl besties#our college friends wont be the same so yah#i cant belive im probably going to the same place as rts 003 and 013... and then my bf will be going to the city#thats what probably will happen#in any case like i cant believe im going w those mf
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euphoricimagination · 1 year ago
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𝓗𝓪𝓲𝓴𝔂𝓾𝓾 𝓫𝓸𝔂𝓼 𝓶𝓮𝓮𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓪 𝓹𝓲𝓬𝓴-𝓶𝓮 𝓰𝓲𝓻𝓵
Feat. Nekoma & Inarizaki -> Part 2 [Aoba Johsai & Fukurodani]
Premise: You had to do something else for a week and a half, leaving the boys alone for that period. Although they told the coaches that they could survive without you, the coaches ask a girl to help them out instead. They weren’t particularly excited, which got worse the more they spent time with her
Nekoma
You arrived later than you expected, just on time for the club, So you didn’t get to see your dear team until much later
When you enter the gym, you see a…strange view
No one in the team was happy
Yaku and Kai didn’t have any expressions on them, Lev was pouting aggressively, Fukunaga had a frown, Yamamoto was mumbling words and Kenma was nowhere to be seen.
The girl that was supposed to replace you for the week was walking besides a very annoyed Kuroo, who was pushing the cart with the balls
Weird, considering that doing that was the basics for being a manager
They were so out of it that none notice the sound of your shoes, weird considering how attentive they are
“Ah Kuroo senpai, thank God you helped me! I’m so small and weak that I wasn’t able to push it over” you heard her say, making you cringe at the sentence
“Yeah, whatever” said a disinteresting Kuroo
And that’s when you confirm that something was really wrong, Kuroo was never this dismissive
“What’s happening? Everything ok?” you asked making Kuroo turn around with a relief smile on
“Oh hi, Kuroo senpai was just helping me since you know, I’m so small and weak” says fluttering her eyes at him
“It’s just pushing the cart. It has wheels on it…” You gave a disbelief look to Kuroo, who just rolls his eyes “it’s not that hard”
“Maybe for someone as big as you it wouldn’t be so difficult!”
That was it for Kuroo, who quickly move to your side giving you a hug
“Well, guess you can leave now that our manager is back. Bye”
"Kuroo-senpai!! Stooop! I can stay here too!” says stomping her feet
The whole commotion cause everyone to look at you, and you swear you heard a collective sigh full of relief
Quickly enough you felt a bunch of arms around you, a bunch of head pats and a ton of screams of your name
Which quickly was interrupted by a loud scream by the girl “KYANMA!!”
You look at the stairs where Kenma was standing shaking slightly with big eyes. The girl tried to get close to him, yelling “They are being mean, Kyanma!” but he just runs away towards you
Yes. Run. He hated her, she was so loud and desperate, Kenma literally couldn’t stand her.
“You’re back” says Kenma hiding behind you, showing more happiness that you ever have seen from him
So happy that he went to hug you tightly, he really missed you
“Anyways, now that our team is finally complete you can leave. Please go out” says Kuroo
“Agh! Fine! I’m way too good for you anyways!”
She sends you a look full of venom, but you didn’t really notice it
After all, you had a clingy Kenma hugging you tightly and the rest of the team waiting for one
Inarizaki
After your small break reached an end you finally were ready to go back to your boys
They were having a small hangout in the Miya household
They tried to be sneaky about it, not wanting to invite the girl that was replacing you
But sadly for them, she somehow knew and crash into them before you could arrive
She’s the first person you see when you enter their house with the spare key they gave you
“Who are you?” she asks with her eyebrow raising
“Ehh…I’m Yn, their manager. You helped them while i was out?” You ask back, confused at her sudden presence
“Yes…I actually think I should be the new manager! After all I play like 17 sports and definitely know more than you about sports. What do you think this is? Cheer? Not like it’s a sport, but whatever” she says with a overconfident smirk
In the meantime the guys that were already in the house starting to appear into the hall, confused at how loud her voice was being
“Anyways! Why don’t you leave? A girl like you probably doesn’t even know a thing about sports! We’re gonna play videogames while you probably just want to paint your nails or whatever!”
“Who says you’re staying?” Atsumu says, frowning
“Ha Ha, you’re so funny Atsumu! Of course I’m staying” she says nervous
“No, you’re not” Osamu adds
“I’m sure we can all hang out tog-” you try to say
“You shut it! I bet you don’t know anything about the sport!” She says to you despite you trying to help her
“Really? You barely even know what we play, you just join because you wanted to see hot guys” a voice behind you says, Suna entering the house as he passes his arm through your shoulders
The girl immediately went pale, stammering the next sentence “well…well, I mean, of course I know!”
“Sure, that's why you asked 'if we knew' the rules of basketball yesterday. Just leave, nobody wants you here anyway”
She scoffs annoyed, looking at the rest of the team as if asking for help, which she doesn’t receive. She scoffs one more time, walking towards the door and leaving as she shoots a glare towards you
“You guys are so mean” you say, receiving a chuckle
“She deserved it, if anything she just hinder our practice” Osamu adds
“Besides, nobody talks about our beautiful manager like that” Atsumu hugs you along side Suna
The rest of the team also comes to hug you, and while they were a bit rude, you knew that they only had good intentions
You love this foxes too much
----
Note: a little something about my boys, also, I cringed way too much while writing this
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husbandhoshi · 1 year ago
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title: ghosted pairing: seungcheol x f!reader wc: 6.1k, mature/18+ only! tags: based on this drabble. porn with a considerable amount of plot, fwb to lovers, rich guy!cheol, yn is able to be picked up. horrible terrible excessive amounts of fluff. smut tags below the cut. everyone say thank you to @wuahae for reading this over :)
smut tags: softdom!cheol, unprotected sex, oral (m and f receiving), spanking/biting, yn has hair that can get pulled, mild ass play, boob stuff, fingers in mouth.
--
you think you have seungcheol's number memorized.
well, you definitely should have by now, with how many times you considered deleting it. instead you ended up changing his contact name, first to seungcheol club, which is where you met him. second time--rebound guy. the third iteration, your roommate had made it DO NOT TEXT, and you had left it like that because she was probably right anyway.
for better or for worse, you are not very good at following instructions. you're two and a half weeks fresh off of a heart-to-heart with your friends where you agreed that no, the best way to get over your ex was to not get under somebody else, and yes, you should absolutely stop sleeping with a guy who brags about being a playboy.
so you deleted his number and your text history, and everyone swore up and down that this was a good thing.
and you're sure you were on the same page as them until about five minutes ago, when you were doing your laundry and you had come across one of his white button-up shirts.
(he let you keep it because he said you looked better in it than he did. that morning, before you left his place, he had buttoned it all the way up for you--don't want anyone else looking at you the way i do, he had said. plus, the amount of hickies he had left behind were in no way presentable to the general public.)
the effect this has on you is instantaneous and humiliating.
"fuck. fuck," you groan, now scrolling through your camera roll to look for literally any screenshot with his number in it.
there's one from back when he was rebound guy--he had sent you ten dollars in apple cash so you could buy a coffee when you said you were too tired to fuck. you ended up coming over that night anyway, and you both watched four hours of law and order until you fell asleep on his couch.
there are a handful from when DO NOT TEXT had sexted you in the middle of the workday, which you kept for posterity and nights alone with your vibrator.
and then, finally, a few weeks before that, when things were simple and he was just an unsaved number in your phone--hey, i know you ran out this morning, but i wanted to let you know i had a great time last night, if you know what i mean. even with the winky face emoji, it was a strangely wholesome text from a first time hookup.
you favorite the screenshot and curse the fact that you have never had good impulse control.
you up? i miss you.
the words fly so fast out of your fingers, you have no time to consider whether or not this is a good idea. you vividly recall the time he told you he had never seen the point of putting a label on a relationship, which was the whole reason your friends staged an intervention in the first place.
still, the white shirt on your bed taunts you. even thinking about it makes your head spin.
yeah. let me send you an uber.
that too--he had money, and he wasn't ashamed to spend it on you. between that and the dick, you don't think you're willing to squander your luck.
besides, seungcheol is still rebound guy. you're still getting over your ex, and he's just a quick fix in the meantime. you tell yourself this, and you keep telling yourself this until you're out the door, without a second chance to tell yourself otherwise.
--
"can't go long without getting your back blown out, huh?"
this is the first thing seungcheol says to you, oblivious to the fact that you were planning on forever ghosting him less than an hour ago.
"as if you didn't answer my text almost immediately," you laugh, letting him help you take your coat off.
"never said i wasn't happy to provide," he replies. his gaze is hot, sticky, like he's forgotten what you've looked like already. "i think it's been almost a month. i thought you got tired of me or something, you know."
"of course not. i...i got busy."
it's a half lie. the other half? you wouldn't dare admit it, but you missed his apartment a little. partly because it's much nicer than your own, but the bachelor pad decor was starting to grow on you. (and maybe the bachelor, with it.)
"work was good today?" you ask, letting him draw you in by the waist. his hands are so warm as he draws them up and down your sides, underneath the cotton of the thin shirt you have on.
"oh, please," seungcheol says, his grin now hovering right over your lips. "don't play innocent. you didn't come here so i could talk about my job."
he's right, so you let him kiss you. it's hot and fast and it tastes like his twenty dollar mouthwash, which you take small pride in because it means he would have been sleeping if his hand wasn't on your ass right now.
seungcheol has never been slow nor patient. your shirt has come off, and he now thumbs at the waistband of your jeans, grasping at the button to undo them.
"i don't think i even know what you look like with pants on," he says, lips dragging against the shell of your ear. "you always dress up when you come here, and it all ends up on the floor. pity."
you feel all the heat in your body surge towards your core. somehow your jeans are already on the floor and seungcheol's palm is fanned over the thin lace of your panties.
"thought about me the whole way here, huh?" two fingers are meanly sat over the seam of your cunt, pressing the damp fabric to your skin. "let yourself get all wet for me on the car ride?"
"maybe," you manage, not wanting to betray the embarrassment in your voice. you don't need his hand there to know how wet you are, and yet you know he's doing it to tease you anyway. he finds the bump of your clit over the fabric, now clingy and warm over your skin, and runs his thumb over it. "what else was i supposed to think about?"
"no need to be shy. can't lie with such a needy pussy." he chuckles as your thighs squeeze helplessly around him. "it's cute."
before you can protest, he pushes your panties to the side, now undoubtably soaked through, and his fingers find your clit again. it just takes two, three, rough strokes to draw the pleasure out of you like a fire in your belly.
"cheol," you whine. somehow things always end up like this--you, almost fully naked, and him, still with all his clothes on. he likes reminding you of it too, now enjoying the way you press against him, searching for skin. instead, you feel his cock under his sweatpants, right up against your thigh, and it only turns you on further.
your hands find his waist, but between the new welt he's sucked into your neck and the paralyzing feeling of his thumb on your clit again and again, you falter. your fingertips hover on the downy hair peeking over the band of his sweats, and you've never ached more to have him inside you.
that's all seungcheol needs to yank you back in line. "bed. now," he says, and you listen.
his apartment is big, and the walk feels dizzying as he follows behind you. what's even worse is that you can feel his eyes rake over you--he loves it. the humiliating stumble of your two left feet, the glistening slick at the apex of your thighs, how your panties cling to your ass, now ruined.
even now, as you clamber onto the bed like you're learning to use your limbs for the first time, he loves how easy you are for him. but you can't help it--no one fucks you as good as he does, and that was the reason he was rebound guy in the first place.
"face me," is his next command. at the foot of the bed, first, he pulls off his shirt, and your eyes wander first to his chest, then to the trail he's got down his stomach, teasing you as he pushes down his sweats.
one of his hands, strong and veiny, disappears under his waistband to play with his cock. you watch the slow flick of his wrist and see the shape of his length underneath the fabric, and you almost start salivating.
you're sure he's punishing you by now.
"you're staring, pretty girl. use your words." a turn of his wrist, and he groans. he might just make himself cum like this, and the notion that it wouldn't be somewhere inside you absolutely shatters the last bit of pride you had left.
"need you in my mouth, cheol," you whine, now sitting up straight against the headboard, as if looking any more pitiful would persuade him to join you.
and he does, just not in the way you want him to. instead, you watch his sweats fall to the ground before he kneels on the edge of the bed, on the end furthest from you.
"what, you think i'm gonna give it to you easy? after you made me wait for you?" you are not thinking straight enough to decipher what this means. who knew ghosting a fuckboy would have actual consequences, but you watch his grip tighten around the fat base of his cock and decide this is not the time to play detective.
so you swallow your pride and all your questions and you crawl. you crawl all the way down the seemingly endless length of his king sized bed, feeling seungcheol's gaze swallow you whole, and you like it.
when you stop at the foot of the bed, you take pause to look at seungcheol, really look at him. his eyes are dark, almost unrecognizably so--maybe it's the way you so readily make yourself perfect for him, arching your back just how he likes and letting your swollen, wet mouth fall open like you've never wanted anything more than him.
"so pretty like this," he coos. he runs a thumb over your bottom lip, feeling it quiver under his skin. you feel the saliva pooling in your mouth; it's as humiliating as it is desperate but you can't help yourself. it feels so good to be touched, and seungcheol's clings to you like nothing else.
he pushes his fingers into your mouth, almost to the back so you choke. you're at the point where you'll take anything, so you suck. you let your tongue run all over the digits, long and calloused enough that you can only dream of having them inside the other half of you. he pushes onto your tongue, wanting you to taste him, and you whimper, the feeling harsh but not unwelcome.
"dumb mouth just needs something in it, huh? my girl will just suck anything?"
you can't talk, so you whine around his fingers, feeling your pussy clench around nothing. he's been playing with his cock with his free hand, forcing you to watch him trace every vein with his own skin instead of yours. you hollow out your cheeks and suck him nice and tight, trying to fool yourself otherwise.
then he laughs, low and quiet--as fun as it is to slut you out, he's never been patient. "open wide, darling." he slides his fingers out from your mouth before pulling your hair out of the way. thank you, you want to say, but it's quickly washed away by the shock of his cock between your lips, rough but never too much so.
god, you didn't even think you liked sucking dick that much, but sleeping with seungcheol for this long must have altered your brain chemistry for the worse. his familiar, heavy warmth sits on your tongue, and you can't help but moan around him. you love the stretch of your jaw, the way his eyes always wrench shut no matter how in control he is.
"fuck," he groans, carding a hand through his hair. "slutty little mouth's made for me."
you hum around him, taking him all the way to where your nose skims the dewy curls on his abdomen and all you know is the scent of his heat. you're drooling so much, thanks to all the fingers in your mouth not too long ago, but you don't care. you run your tongue on the veiny underside of his cock, back and forth, savoring the hurt in your cheeks and all the spit on your chin.
seungcheol makes a low-pitched, strangled noise, the first time you've seen him crack tonight, and it sends another gushy wave of heat to your cunt.
you toy with his slit, let the salt of his precum fill your mouth, and suck hard around his cockhead. your scalp stings wonderfully with how he pulls at your hair, and you lean into the feeling. a deep breath through your nose, and you sink down again. the way he hits the back of your throat makes you yelp pitifully, but you persist like a dog to a bone. again, again, and you're gagging on your own spit as your throat spasms around him and you go cross-eyed.
he's all about control, but he lets you have this--perhaps he likes seeing you give yourself to him without him asking. he doesn't have to lift a finger, and you'll still choke around him, bruise your own throat. surely that had to mean something, but you'll chalk it up to some astrological sexual compatibility you're unaware of at the moment.
"enough," seungcheol finally says, voice gravelly, and he pulls you off him by the hair. "fuck, you probably would've cummed from that alone, huh?"
meanly, he reaches over your back to grab at the strings of your underwear so it digs into your cunt. you cry out, feeling the warmth of arousal leak all over your twitching hole, even between your ass. he's right--any more, and you really might have cummed all over yourself.
" 'm so wet, cheol," you plead, toes curling as he pulls the elastic of your panties further back. "please, please, please."
he releases the band, and it snaps hard against your skin. it feels like electricity as it connects with you, and you cry out again, the noise high-pitched and whoreish.
"gonna need you to face the other way if you want me to fuck you, darling," he says. "my baby likes it best from behind, right?"
you have nothing left in you but insatiable desire. you turn around to face the headboard, still on your hands and knees. seungcheol runs a careful hand down the curve of your spine before landing a hard slap on your ass. your skin sings, and all the blood in your body feels like it's been turned to fire.
"cheol," you warble, pressing your face into the sheets. your pussy actually hurts from how neglected it is, and when the second slap comes down, your clit aches like a bruise. "need you so bad...can't believe i went so long without you."
the words just fall out of you but you think they're true regardless. you were really fooling yourself thinking you could go the rest of your life without this. somewhere deep inside you, in the working part of your brain, you wonder if he's come to the same conclusion. that underneath the show, all the greed and the meanness, he missed you too.
"you must really need to get fucked," seungcheol chuckles. "you've never been this nice to me."
"not true," you protest, muffled by the sheets, and he laughs again. then he peels your underwear down your thighs before spreading your ass underneath his palms, and the cool air makes you twitch under him.
"you smell so fucking good. fuck." he groans, low and desirous, and it's the last thing you register before you feel the swell of his nose, his lips, as he buries his face in your cunt.
it's all too much at once--it rips a squeal out from your chest, one of those slutty, loud ones he loves, and it spurs him on further. you feel the wet pressure of his tongue, first between your folds, then up to the tight ring of your asshole, still messy with your arousal.
"o-oh my god," you cry. the pressure in your belly is now wound tight; you're so, so close and he's barely even started. he seems to know this, and deprives you of his mouth in lieu of his two fingers. the change in sensation is instant and toe-curling. something, anything, is finally inside you, and it's better than anything you have ever known. he drags the pads of his fingers brutally over your g-spot, loving the way you cry and tremble beneath him as your orgasm builds.
"have you had enough, pretty girl?" seungcheol asks, voice cruel, teasing. it's a rhetorical question--before you know it, his fingers are gone, and you instead feel the length of his cock between the curve of your ass. he's got a hand between your shoulder blades, pinning you down, just so he can see you struggle to push yourself against him.
"n-no," you reply, voice catching in your throat. you feel the head of his cock against your slit, and your thighs tremble with anticipation. not good enough. it only takes him a few times, rocking against your cunt, for you to crumble. you ask for things you can't even remember, and it's then when he pushes into you, so meanly you really do forget what words mean.
seungcheol swears under his breath, and his grip on your ass feels tight enough to bruise. your cunt flutters around him, god, you forgot how fucking big he is, but he doesn't give you much time to get used to it. his pace is unforgiving, and his hips slam into your ass like he's trying to fuck the sound out of you.
"cheol," you hiccup, listening to your voice jolt with every thrust. " 'm so full...."
"yeah? you like how i fill you up?" he squeezes your ass hard, and you moan into the sheets. "better than anyone else?"
"o-only you," you reply, slack-jawed at the feeling of being split open so well and the delicious, unending drag of him against your walls. "just you."
this seems to satisfy him. he enters you, deeper still, until it feels like he's in your stomach.
"so fucking tight," he says, from somewhere deep in his chest. "you need me to stretch you out like this every once in a while, yeah? you take it so well, pretty girl."
all you can do is moan his name. it's what you've been doing, and at this point, it's the only word you know. he bottoms out again, and the pleasure is so white-hot it feels like it burns.
it only takes two, three, punches into your cunt for you to come undone. you're gushing, gushing around him, babbling something incoherent, and still he is unrelenting. you feel your mouth move in an attempt to tell him you're too sensitive, and he only shoves his cock deeper in you so he can feel you clench hard around it.
then he pushes your head into the sheets, deeper still so the neighbors won't write him up in the morning, and fucks you again. you foolishly think another orgasm will break you, but all it takes is for him to press his thumb into the dip of your asshole and tell you he's going to fuck you in both holes one day for you to fall apart again.
by the time he's done with you, your legs feel boneless and you don't even want to think about the situation between them. (you had asked him to cum in you, and he did. there was so much, he had to push some back into you with his fingers, and you cummed one more time.)
you feel seungcheol's dead weight slump onto the bed beside you. you're still face-down, but you turn as far as you can to look at him. it's unfair how he still looks good now--his bangs, dark and curly with sweat, crown his forehead, and you watch his long eyelashes flutter shut.
"fuck," he groans. "how does every time with you get better?"
somewhere inside you, in the parts that still work, you feel a small gleam of pride. it feels traitorous, in a way--the whole point of being friends with benefits was that it was supposed to be conditional, but you're running out of conditions. clearly, it didn't take much for you to come back and not regret it.
seungcheol laughs at your silence. "did i break you? no," he jokingly whines, and he rolls onto his side to return your gaze. he brings a hand up to brush the hair out of your eyes, as if that would somehow magically repair your body. but it does feel nice. "please speak."
"maybe broken. to be determined." seungcheol grins stupidly when you say this, and you watch how his eyes crinkle up at the sides.
usually, it's every man for himself at this point in the night. seungcheol will order takeout and draft some emails, and you hobble over to the bathroom so you can pee and use the shower. he leaves you alone for this part, which is the perfect opportunity to mix all his fancy shower gels together like you're a kid again.
but today seems different. you lie there for a beat in silence, watching each other blink. then seungcheol gets up, slowly then all at once, and walks over to your wrung-out body.
"i'm picking you up," he says, like a warning. "hopefully you're not afraid of heights."
you think he's joking until you feel the strong cords of his forearms--one around your middle and the other under your legs. you didn't even think you were able to be picked up at this point in your life, but somehow he's got you flush against his chest now, almost nose to nose with him.
"wait," you waver, suddenly feeling self conscious about literally everything. you're sticky and smelly and you're not curious to find out if your post-coital form will scare him away. "seungcheol."
"you really plan on walking yourself over to the bathroom? you couldn't make it to the bedroom earlier, and i hadn't even fucked you yet."
"hey!" you protest. he laughs, and you can feel his whole body shake. "wait, i can't laugh too much, or i'm gonna start leaking."
"you've got another thing coming if you think i'm afraid of a little body fluid."
seungcheol bumps the bathroom door open with his ass, which is somehow the funniest and most endearing thing to you. you flip on the light, and he sets you on the counter like it's just a normal friday night for the both of you.
he turns the shower on and turns back to look at you. "how hot do you want it?" then his eyes narrow playfully. "are you one of those freaks who likes getting their skin boiled off?"
"well, you can answer the first half of that question on your own."
"ok. freak."
while he messes with the shower knobs (he's got one of those showers with three separate showerheads), you take a moment to do some more snooping. the first time you were here, you did go through the various things he had on his counter. most of them are still there--the overpriced moisturizer you shamelessly use when you stay the night, a quarter-full bath and body works foaming soap, and a folded up hand towel with his initials on it.
there are some newer additions too. you don't miss how the little jar for your toothbrush is still there, or a small tube of lip gloss you had forgotten to take back a few months ago. he restocked the hand lotion that you said you liked, too.
you're starting to think that there is a small possibility that you are no longer friends with benefits. you're not dating either, but something somewhere in the middle. but how do you say something like that? how would you know, especially when seungcheol is a self-proclaimed forever bachelor who may never, ever date?
you have no time to think about this any further.
"sooo," seungcheol hums, wiping his hands with a bath towel. "i'll be in the bedroom. you want me to order chinese?" you watch him linger around, lamely, like a stray dog.
"wanna join me?"
he smiles, ear to ear.
"thought you'd never ask."
--
morning comes slowly.
you wake to birdsong and the quiet chatter of the city beneath you. the sun from the curtains is buttery and warm on your bare skin, and time seems to drag its feet. it feels perfect, which is a word you would have never used in relation to any of this, and yet nothing else seems more appropriate.
last night, after your shower (in which you learned that seungcheol always makes his hair into a shampoo mohawk, without fail), you talked for hours over the fattest spread of takeout you had ever seen.
the plan was to put on the office and dissociate like usual, but he finally answered your question about how his day at work was. (tumultuous and drama-filled--that was his first mistake. you love drama.) strangely, by the end of the night, you learned that you had more in common than you thought with a man whose watch collection was valued higher than your entire college education.
"you up?" seungcheol's morning voice comes out sounding like a croak from behind you. you're sure he's about to complain that his arm is asleep from your big head on it, but he doesn't. instead, he settles deeper into your warmth and pulls you closer by the waist.
"yeah," you reply, enjoying the feeling of his skin against your own.
you grab your phone from the nightstand, wondering if your roommate has discovered your betrayal and has blown up your phone. she has, so the two voice memos and twenty text messages in the group chat are no surprise to you.
what is a surprise is the text you get from your ex. can we talk? it reads. it's the first time you've heard from him in months--before that, he had broken up with you (over text) and then proceeded to block you on every platform possible.
your mind starts to spin. you'd be lying if you said you didn't want to text him back. just for closure's sake, you tell yourself, as if you haven't cried at least seven separate times about this. but you will admit, seungcheol has been a great diversion. you don't remember the last time you had a cry, and any progress was good progress to you.
complicating things, said diversion has slotted a leg between yours, and his hand has found its way to your ribcage, distractingly close to your chest. such are the consequences of only wearing a shirt to bed.
"you're so warm," he murmurs, right in the space where your neck meets your shoulder. his hand creeps up, now right over your heartbeat. it doesn't really take much for your body to respond--his fingertips find your nipple, and with a light squeeze, you're already arching back into him. "is this ok?"
"yeah," you breathe. you're distracted, but you figure the best way to un-distract yourself is with a new, better distraction.
now emboldened, he rolls the skin between his fingers, finding he loves the way you shudder underneath him. quickly, he moves out from behind you to hover over you instead, propping himself up by his forearms, and pushes your shirt up over the swell of your tits.
"you good?" seungcheol asks, lips flush to the skin over your heart. he presses another wet kiss to one of your nipples before taking it into his mouth.
"yeah, why?" you have half a mind to hold his head down so he can't ask more questions and ruin the point of being a distraction in the first place.
"dunno." he switches to the other side, licking over a mark he's bitten into your skin. "you looked at your phone and you seemed worried. also, you're frowning, and it's not a sex frown."
damn. you guess you're easier to read than you thought. you don't even have the heart to ask what the fuck a sex frown looks like.
seungcheol's mouth returns to your nipple, and he sucks hard, making you gasp into your palm.
"my ex," you tell him. there's no point in keeping it a secret. the first time you slept together, you had made it clear what your intentions were, which is what made this arrangement work so well in the first place. "he wants to talk or something."
"that asshole?" then another suck, and you keen into him. "you're too good for him."
it's literally one of the three appropriate responses he could have chosen from, but it still feels like a compliment to you. almost too much so.
"yeah. i guess." your voice sounds more wobbly than you'd like, but you chalk it up to the fact that he's now pressing his lips down your middle, all the way down to your core. "hey, i'm ticklish."
"i know." he kisses your belly button, and you smile in spite of yourself. "you smell good, by the way."
"it's your forty dollar body wash," you remind him.
"damn right it is." you feel his breath fan over your thighs, and your stomach flips with anticipation. "legs over my shoulders. you know the drill."
"you don't have to do this, you know," you say, before immediately regretting it. you have a spectacular knack of self-sabotage, which you think seungcheol knows by this point. "you've been really nice to me."
"am i not allowed to like being nice to you?" seungcheol jokes. "would you prefer me to be mean?"
"no," you laugh. you don't know how to ask what he meant. what made yesterday and today so different? it feels like you're on the edge of something, coming close to what you could only describe as more than casual affection, more than desire. "go back to being nice. forget i said anything."
you put your legs over his shoulders, like he asked. one good orgasm wouldn't solve the ex problem or this new seungcheol problem you are starting to discover, but it sure would help you think more clearly.
his lips are soft on you. he has none of the urgency or greed of yesterday; instead, he takes his time with you. his mouth skims over your inner thighs, lightly, drawing out all the breath from your lungs. you make a small noise of impatience, and you feel the stretch of his grin against you.
before you have a second chance to complain, you feel the heat of his open mouth over your cunt, as to drink your taste up. then his tongue, warm, insistent, on your clit, circling it before he sucks.
"o-oh, fuck," you whine, voice muffled by the back of your hand. it feels too early to be loud, and you're already embarrassed by how sensitive you are.
"don't text him back," seungcheol says. he's replaced his mouth with two fingers, now leisurely teasing you at your entrance.
"don't worry--" you manage to say this before he crooks the pads of his fingers into you, right at your sweet spot, and the words are stolen from you. "--about him."
"i'm serious." he laps at your cunt, and with his fingers still buried in you, the feeling makes you dizzy. "did he ever make you feel like this?"
"n-no," you whine, now with your palm shoved right against your mouth. he's added a third finger now, and the stretch is so good, you're going cross-eyed. "never ate me out."
"what?" you hear him tsk between your thighs as his fingers still. "he's missing out."
it's then that seungcheol must have resolved to give you the best head of your life, because you think you black out after that point.
his lips return to your clit, and the pleasure is so startling, you can feel your thighs squeeze shut around his head. unfazed, he continues to pump his fingers in and out of your hole, still fluttering, unused to the size.
"close, 'm so close," you mewl, hips now lifted to chase his tongue. he indulges you, gives you the flat of the muscle to grind against as he stuffs you full.
your other hand finds his hair, and it only takes a moment, a slight pull, for him to moan into your heat--the sound breaks something inside you, and you're gasping, crying out with your high. by now, there are marks from your teeth in your palm, but something about the sting only makes the feeling better.
seungcheol stays sealed to your cunt, removing his fingers only to replace them with his mouth, eager to taste you. he lingers until you're shaking and whimpering, spent from your orgasm and too sensitive to endure another.
he looks up at you, swollen lips and bedhead made worse, and a surge of affection overtakes you.
"kiss me," you tell him, and he does.
it's long, and it's slow, not even close to any of the ones you've had before. you wrap a hand around the back of his neck, and he sighs. you don't think he's ever done that before.
when he pulls back to look at you, it feels as though the air has changed. there are words pushing at your lips. this isn't casual anymore. it can't be, not with what just happened.
yeah, the sex is good, but the first thing you thought of this morning wasn't you or your saturday plans or how to endure the dismay of your entire friend group, it was about him. if didn't count for something, you don't know what did.
"seungcheol, i--" you pause. his eyes are so brown, it's distracting you, and you start to second guess yourself.
"is it about your ex?" he interrupts. "if he asked you to get back with him, would you?"
it's not his question, but his insistence that takes you by surprise.
"n-no." you watch his gaze flicker at your hesitance, and you don't like it. "no, i wouldn't."
"good, because--" he pauses, seeming to gather his thoughts. you try to read his expression, but he can't even meet your eyes right now. "look, i know i haven't had the best track record with dating. i don't even think i know how to date."
"what are you saying?" you ask softly. there's a part of your heart that feels like it's peeling itself back, in a good way.
"i'm saying i want to try." and when you still look confused, he continues. "dating you. if you'd let me."
against all odds, past all the swirling, terrible emotions in your chest, there's a bright surge of relief, of joy. the last time you saw him look so vulnerable was when he reached into his oven to pull out a tray of cookies and burned his hand because he forgot a glove. maybe this whole thing would crash and burn, but you like him enough (honestly more than enough) to try with him.
so you smile, and you watch him frown and pout and look unbearably terrified, and you smile harder.
"ok," you say, playfully feigning indifference. "you can try."
instead of replying, he kisses you again, and it's even better than the first one.
when you finally head out that morning, there's a lightness in your chest.
in the doorway, seungcheol pecks the top of your head before showing you his phone. "which emoji do you want?" he asks, completely seriously. "i want the blue heart."
you pull out your phone to find his contact, which still shows his plain number, just like old times.
"i'm unsaved?!" his jaw drops open like he's animated, and you laugh.
"gotta go," you tease. "see you later."
it's only in the uber home (that he called for you, of course), where you finally put in his real, government name, for the first time. finally, it feels a little more right.
choi seungcheol, it reads. with the blue heart.
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yellowjestertfs · 6 months ago
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Spare Parts
Al untucked his shirt, then tucked it in again, then quickly untucked it before landing on a French tuck—a mix of both that suited him worse than either. He had never been so nervous about going out with his friends. In the past, he was the life of the party, staying out clubbing until the witching hours, getting drunk, and ending up in some stranger's bed the next morning. That was before he made the fatal mistake of jaywalking drunk and got hit by a bus, which flung him into the path of another bus, which sent him off a bridge and into the water, where he was run over by a boat. Honestly, it would have been a pretty comical way to die—only he didn’t die. He should have died; he broke every bone in his body and turned his organs into a smoothie. The wonders of modern medicine intervened. He still didn’t quite understand exactly how, but the doctors had used stem cells, like those regenerating cells babies have, to essentially bring him back from the dead. A miracle, yes, but even miracles had their limits. The recovery process was long and hard, and even now, recently released from medical custody, he was not the same man he’d been before the accident.
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Getting hit by two buses and a boat does that to you. His face was mangled—not to the point of being monstrous, but not attractive either. His body had also suffered from the accident, practically wasting away as he recovered. While the old Al partied with abandon, this new Al was self-conscious of his appearance and absolutely terrified to cross the street. Now, he stood at the crosswalk, fidgeting with his short-sleeve button-down shirt, thinking about why he had asked an old lady to help him across. He clutched her tightly as they crossed, ready to throw her in the way if a bus came barreling toward them—luckily for both of them, none did. Despite her age and his current condition, the woman actually made a pass at him, calling him a “handsome lad” and asking if he wanted to go back to her place. It helped his confidence, if only a little, and gave him a strange tingling feeling.
Finally, after detaching himself from the woman, he reached the club. Despite the relatively early hour, the place was bumping; the bass-boosted electronic music and a flashing rainbow could be seen and heard from the outside. A quick check of his phone informed him that his friends were already inside, so he joined the short line and waited to be let in by the bouncer. As he neared the front, he realized he recognized the bouncer. Back when he frequented this place, he was friendly with the muscular man. Now, though, he doubted the man would recognize him, and he honestly hoped to keep it that way. Back then, he was sort of a legend, a position he doubted he could live up to now. As the bouncer—Rod, he thought—waved him forward, Al couldn’t help but admire the man's physique. It seemed that while Al recovered, Rod made some serious gains. His arms were particularly impressive; Al found himself feeling bad for the man’s sleeves as they tried and failed to contain his massive arms. Their sheer size was only enhanced by the web of veins that patterned the muscles. 
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“ID, please,” Rod said, indeed not recognizing Al as he had predicted. Al handed over his card, suddenly realizing the picture on the ID was pre-accident.
“Had a bit of a glow-down,” Al said awkwardly, trying to flash a smile but only managing to lift one side of his mouth—the other’s nerve endings were damaged beyond repair. Rod grunted but returned Al’s ID; even despite the discrepancies in the photo, there was little doubt that Al was of age. As Rod handed back his ID, their hands touched just slightly, and for a second, Al felt a slight tingling in his upper arms. Then it was gone as quickly as it came. 
“Have fun, man,” Rod said, “and nice guns.” Al laughed at that, thinking the man was making fun of his twig arms.
He lifted his arm, expecting the usual sight of his scrawny limb. But when his gaze landed on it, his breath caught. His bicep had swollen under the skin, somehow in the span of a heartbeat his twig arms had become tree trunks. Al’s fingers traced the now firm, rounded muscle, a mix of fear and fascination flooding his mind. The sheer size and hardness of his new bicep felt both alien and irresistibly satisfying, a forbidden thrill coursing through his veins at his arms meaty massive things they now were. They looked like almost exact copies of Rod’s, only instead of the man's olive complexion, the biceps had the pale look of someone who had spent the last two years in a hospital bed.
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Al felt light-headed. How was this possible? Was he having some sort of mental breakdown, a delusion? He needed to find his friends. No, he needed to find a drink. The bar was right where he remembered—just to the left of the entrance. Unlike Rod, the bouncer, he didn’t recognize the bartender—a short, slightly pudgy man who looked to be in his mid-40s, with a strong square cleft chin that didn’t particularly match the rest of his average features. Al walked up to him, trying to hide his now-massive arms to little avail. He found he couldn’t stop flexing and feeling them, equal parts concerned and turned on by the mysterious new muscles.
“I'll take a vodka soda,” Al tried to say casually, although the words came out more as a question than a request. Luckily, the night was still young enough that he managed to get the man's attention, although the fact that he wasn’t a pretty girl kept him from making small talk. As he worked, Al saw the bartender occasionally glance up at his biceps, which he had crossed in an attempt to hide them. They looked a little ridiculous with the rest of his scrawny body. Wordlessly, the bartender placed a garnish on the drink before handing it to Al. Just as with Rod, their hands innocently touched, and again Al felt a strange tingle, this time centering on his chin. Lifting the glass to his lips, Al quickly lowered it, uneasy at how strange the sensation felt. Years of drinking had made him familiar with the feel of a glass against his lips, but something felt off now. His bottom lip somehow felt more supported, stiffer. A quick exploration with his finger revealed that his chin was causing the offense. But that couldn’t be—his chin had been round and soft even before the accident. Whatever this new chin that had somehow attached itself to his face was, it felt like a block of stone, the bone protruding in a harsh, strong way completely foreign to his face. The deep cleft was also new, creating a valley in the mountain that was his chin. Pulling out his phone, he saw what his fingers had felt: his face now somehow sported a strong, masculine chin almost identical to that of the bartender.
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Al wasn’t the brightest, but even he began to put the pieces together. Somehow, he was absorbing the best qualities of every person he touched. His mind raced, trying to figure out what could be causing this. The stem cells he received might be the explanation, but why now? Al needed to get out; he needed to see a doctor. Panicked, he looked for the exit only to find a crowd had congregated between the bar and the nearest door. There was no way he could make it to the other side without touching anyone. Could he risk it? 
His contemplation was cut short as a woman sauntered up to the bar, her stumbling gait indicating she was already a few drinks deep. That was hardly the most noticeable thing about her; put bluntly, she had massive boobs—the type that could never fit in a top without being the center of attention. As she stumbled her way toward the bar, she tripped on one of her own feet. Al’s eyes widened as he realized too late that her fall would take her directly toward him. He tried to move out of the way, but as she fell, her arms reached forward for support, landing on his own. For a brief second, he hoped he might absorb her winning smile, but judging by the tingling in his chest, he wasn’t so lucky. Horrified, he glanced down, expecting to see breasts pushing out of his shirt. Instead, he found different mounds there—equally large, yes, but the lumps on his chest weren’t boobs; they were too firm and square. No, instead Al had somehow gained massive pectoral muscles from his contact with the woman. Their growth had unceremoniously demolished the first three buttons of his shirt, which was having a bad day trying to contain his massive chest and arms. The muscles looked downright strange on his body, the rest of it still emaciated from the accident. In fact, Al struggled to support the weight of his new mass, his shrimpy legs and shoulders straining under the sudden load.
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The woman pulled away from his arms, drunkenly apologizing before reaching out to grope one of his now-massive pecs. Luckily, no tingles followed, confirming Al’s suspicion that he could only absorb from a person once. Now, Al felt torn about what to do. On one hand, he still worried about the changes and their possible repercussions, but did he want them to stop? If he went to the doctor now and they fixed him, would he be stuck in his current disproportionate form forever? This could be a blessing—a way to heal from the damage caused by the accident, to become the ultimate version of himself—or rather, of the people around him. So far, none of the changes had been bad. Deciding not to look a gift horse in the mouth, Al scanned the room for someone with a feature he wanted to absorb. The choice became easier when a cute guy walked right past him, his clothing tight on his lean, muscular body, and he looked well-groomed. Before the accident—in fact, before tonight—Al had never paid much attention to the appearance of other men. Maybe it was the fact that he now saw their features as ones he could have, or perhaps it was something else, but for whatever reason, he found himself checking out the other men in the club, including the one walking by. On instinct, he stuck his foot out, tripping the man, their bare ankles making contact for a second in the process. The man stumbled and then turned to face Al, his face red with anger, which quickly cooled as he took in Al.
“Hey, I like your hair, dude,” he said. Al had hoped that he might absorb the guy's cute, tight ass or maybe his strong Roman nose, but his hair worked too. It was silky, thick, and coiffed attractively—definitely an improvement over his current thinning hair.
“Thanks, man,” Al said, reaching up to find that he indeed had hair identical to the man he had just tripped. 
“Do you go to Clarice?” the guy asked. The question sparked a brief conversation in which Al lied through his teeth, pretending they went to the same barber rather than admitting that he thought his stem cells had magically copied the guy's hairstyle to a tee. Eventually, Al excused himself, claiming he had seen his friends. This was true; as they chatted, Al had located his friends huddled close to the DJ booth on the dance floor. Steeling himself, he made his way over to them, trying to avoid physical contact. His efforts were only somewhat successful. An accidental brush of a college-age girl’s hand lengthened his eyelashes, while a hip bump into a man with rolled-up sleeves thickened his forearms, so his arms were now somewhat proportional. Once he reached the dance floor, however, he lost total control. Falling arms and thrusting hips assaulted him from all sides. An accidental step on a foot caused his lips to buzz as if they had momentarily fallen asleep, puffing up to appear pillowy and soft. A hand brushed across his back, causing a tingle in his shoulders, widening them and only making his progress more difficult. The elbow wedged awkwardly into the crevice of his pecs by a sheepish-looking man earned him a short, coarse beard across his jaw—a jaw that had become wider and sharper thanks to the impatient shoving of a male model behind him. Al quickly lost track of exactly what features he had gained from whom. A sudden numbness in different parts of his body was the only indication that he continued to change. At one point, a gigantic man who had to be some sort of pro basketball player moved next to Al. Al indulged himself, letting his hand “accidentally” rub against the tall man's leg and feeling his whole body lengthen. The constant shifting of the dance floor meant no one noticed Al or the way his features shifted. As he neared his friends, a twink dressed only in a leather harness and thong approached him and started to grind up against him. Even more shocking was the rock-hard abs that formed from their contact and the boner that Al inexplicably developed from the experience. The twink started to unbutton the last few remaining buttons on his shirt, and he let him, not wanting to deprive the world of his body.
At last, Al reached his friends, finally finding a pocket of relative emptiness near the loudspeakers. 
Al reached out to tap one of his friends on the arm before thinking better of it and just stood there awkwardly, waiting for them to notice him. Eventually, the song ended, and his three friends turned to face him. Only with a pang of shock did Al realize they didn’t recognize him. How could they? He had become a sort of Frankenstein’s monster of different features from the various patrons of the club. Where they expected their scrawny, balding friend fresh out of an extensive hospital stay, instead before them stood a 6’5” bodybuilder with a face, a hodgepodge of features from various people, somehow working together to give him a handsome and exotic look.
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“Hey, have you seen our friend? Short, skinny, looks like he might have been hit by a bus or two,” his friend Jordan asked. It was a simple question, but for maybe the first time in two years, Al noticed not a trace of pity in his friend's voice. No, rather it was admiration. Al’s previous intentions of coming clean to his friends and seeking help melted away as he realized the opportunity he had. He could finally escape the shadow of those busses; he could have a new start.
“Nope, haven’t seen anyone like that,” he said in a voice much richer and deeper thanks to the vocal cords of some unknown stranger. 
“I’m Jordan, by the way,” his friend said, raising his voice to be heard over the music. 
“Al.” Shit. So much for a fresh start. Jordan glanced at his other two friends but didn’t say anything. Instead, one of his other friends, Sergio, grabbed Al’s hand and pulled him into their dance circle. The contact made his whole body tingle and, glancing down, he saw that his skin had darkened to the same ruddy tan as his friend's. Luckily, the flashing lights and the general darkness of the club made Al fairly sure no one noticed the transformation.
Throughout the night, he became reacquainted with his own friends and found innocent ways of making contact with each of them. From his friend Marge, he gained her show-stopping ass, the muscular butt complementing the thick thighs he had gained sometime during his mad rush. Contact with Linsey copied her perfect Barbie blonde hair. The stylish haircut and scruff he had grown sometime during the night bleached itself instantly while all his body hair, limited as it was by various tingles, turned the same gold color. His friend Jordan took a special interest in the new Al, and Al found himself reciprocating the attention, for the first time noticing just how hot his friend was. When at long last they touched, Al grabbed the man and brought him into a passionate kiss. He swore he felt tingles but couldn’t notice any change on his body. After long hours of sweaty dancing, a round of shots, and many more kisses between the two former friends, the group headed over to Jordan's apartment. Al nearly blew his cover by heading straight to his friend's door, but the excuse of “lucky guess” seemed to satisfy his non-sober companions. After a few more hours of chatting and more alcohol, everyone left but Al and Jordan.
Jordan used the classic “let me show you something in the bedroom” line, which led to more kissing and Jordan feeling up Al’s new muscular body. Eventually, as both men removed their pants, Al discovered what he had picked up from his friend. Long and thick, Al’s penis was identical to that of his lover, which Jordan seemed delighted by, claiming he had never been with someone with a tool as big as his. It took a moment for Al to get over the surprise of his friend packing so much meat and the fact that he now did as well, but once he accepted it, he used his new member to the fullest. After hours of fucking, the two fell asleep, not waking up until the afternoon the next day. Al politely said his goodbyes and awkwardly avoided giving Jordan his number, not wanting to explain why it was the same number as Jordan's sickly friend. 
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Exiting the apartment, he noticed the same elderly woman from last night and to his chagrin, she once again hit on him, asking to hold his bicep while they crossed the street. When he touched her, he felt no tingles, which he thought strange until he remembered she was the first person to induce that sensation upon him last night. Could it be that he had somehow absorbed her sex drive or sexuality? Was that why he had a sudden appreciation for men? The thought amused him as he made his way to his car. But before he could dwell on it too much, his attention was abruptly pulled back to the present.
Lost in thought, he didn’t see the bus careening down the street, heading right for him. The blare of the horn hit him a second too late, and everything went black.
The next thing Al knew, he was waking up in a hospital—a horrifying déjà vu of two years ago. A young doctor stood over him, clipboard clutched in two massive, masculine hands. His eyes fluttered as he tried to make sense of his surroundings, the cold sterility of the hospital room bringing back memories of his long, painful recovery. Blearily, Al glanced down at himself. His perfect, hunky form was now a mess—bones broken, muscles flattened. All except his hands, which looked larger and callused, suspiciously identical to the doctor standing above him. It seemed that Al’s luck with public transportation hadn’t changed, but now he knew how to build himself back up. A minor setback, sure, but nothing a few spare parts wouldn’t fix.
Wrote this a while ago but thought i would post it here with images and some small edits. Not my best but think its still a fun story.
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somethingvicked · 6 months ago
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Forget me (not) pt 1
An Eddie Munson story.
Warnings: female reader, angst, reader injured, Eddie being an idiot, memory loss.
Eddie wasn’t stupid. He knew that the relationship between him and Chrissy wouldn’t last forever. They were two very different people that wanted different things in life.
Chrissy wanted to graduate with high honors and go to college and then get married and have a white picket fence life with children and a dog.
Eddie was on his third try to graduate high school and he had no clue what he was going to do with his life after that. He had his band but he didn’t think they would ever make it out of the garage era, playing at a bar for only five drunks every week.
But Chrissy was really pretty, and unlike every other popular person, she was also sweet and not ashamed to be seen with him. Why not have a good time while it lasted?
He had to admit, he hadn’t paid as much attention to his best friend, Y/N since he and Chrissy started dating, after that first time Chrissy bought weed from him and they started joking and having fun.
Eddie reckoned that it was okay. He had known and spent time with Y/N most of his life – it couldn’t be that bad if he spent a couple of weeks or months with Chrissy.
Did he notice that Y/N was hurt when he turned down her suggestions of movie nights, going out for a burger or planning the next campaign? Yes.
But he figured it was alright. It wouldn’t last forever.
For him and Y/N there would be more time. For him and Chrissy, it was limited.
You wanted to be happy for Eddie when he and Chrissy started dating. And in a way you were. That Chrissy, such a popular and smart girl saw Eddie as he really was, rather than what everyone thought him to be. She didn’t judge him.
But you would be lying if you didn’t say you were jealous.
You had been in love with Eddie since middle school, when he and his band played at that talent show.
You two hadn’t become friends until high school, though, when you came over and asked if you could join Hellfire club.
Up until then you had mostly hung out with the band nerds and Robin, because your parents really wanted you to learn some kind of instrument.
You had tried to play the violin but you hated it, so when you quit you felt like you needed a new hobby and with Eddie running the DnD club, it was a given.
You had never told Eddie how much you loved him, though. He didn’t feel the same way, you knew that. You were just his best friend.
There had been other girls that he had hooked up with but it never lasted. Not like this.
And when he kept blowing you off you wondered if you were about to lose him forever?
That’s what led you to going over to his place one time when Chrissy had cheer practice. You knew Eddie rarely came to cheer practice because he didn’t like the way the jocks yelled at Chrissy, calling her a traitor and a devil’s tramp and whatnot.
Eddie opened the door himself, in sweatpants and an old Dio shirt, hair all tousled. You suspected he’d been relaxing with a joint.
”Y/N! Sweetheart, what are you doing here?” Eddie wondered, smiling at you.
The nickname felt like a knife to the heart. Even more when he asked what you were doing at his place, as if you coming over had become some strange event all of a sudden.
And to be fair, lately it had.
”I need to talk to you,” you replied. ”Are you going to let me in, or should we talk here on the porch?”
You hadn’t meant to sound so snappy but you were nervous and his reaction to you didn’t help.
Eddie’s grin disappeared and he stepped aside so you could come through the door, a frown now on his face.
”What’s wrong?” he wondered as you two walked into his room.
You sighed, your arms wrapped around yourself, trying to keep yourself together, if not mentally, at least physically.
Eddie started to look worried, clearly thinking you were about to say something horrible had happened.
You sighed.
”Eddie... I... I miss you.”
Eddie seemed surprised. ”You miss me? That’s what we need to talk about? We see each other all the time, sweetheart!”
”Do we?” you challenged. ”The only one you seem to hang out with these days is Chrissy. I... I get it that you and her... but it feels like we’re not even friends anymore!”
Eddie smiled. ”Of course we’re still friends, Y/N. But me and Chrissy... it’s going so well and she’s so sweet. You know how it is, in the beginning, when you’ve just started dating right?”
You shook your head. ”No. I don’t,” you said, looking down on your feet.
Eddie’s face fell. ”Well, maybe if you got out there and tried dating someone and have a little fun you would know. Why don’t you try it? You might be surprised.”
”There’s no one else I want,” you mumbled and Eddie rolled his eyes.
”Look, Y/N, Chrissy is my girlfriend now, and girlfriends... well, I’m sorry but they should come first, shouldn’t they?”
”We’ve been best friends for years, you’ve known Chrissy for what? Two months? I’m not saying you can’t have a girlfriend, I just...”
”Wait, wait...” Eddie said, frowning,”what do you mean there’s no one else you want?”
You blushed. ”Nothing, it was nothing.”
”So you do have feelings for someone? Why don’t you try asking them out?”
You felt your frustration throb inside your head and groaned. ”That won’t work.”
”Why not?”
”Because it’s you, you idiot!” you screamed, tears rising in your eyes.
Eddie stared at you like you had grown a second head. ”Me?”
”Yes! I... I’ve been in love with you ever since middle school, Eddie...”
”Since middle school?!”
”Yes.”
For a moment there was nothing but silence between you two, except an occasional sniffle from you.
”Why are you telling me this now?” Eddie said, his voice monotone.
”I... I didn’t mean to, I just... I miss you so much and I feel really hurt that you can just... quit me, like I mean nothing! Even if you don’t feel the same...”
”You’re damn right I don’t feel the same!” Eddie exclaimed. ”Why the hell are you telling me this now, when I’m already dating someone? If you wanted to spend more time with me, that’s the last thing you should have done! Now you’ve ruined everything!”
You gasped. ”What?”
”Yeah! How do you think Chrissy will feel about this? I definitely can’t hang out with you now, knowing you have feelings for me. She’s going to freak out.”
He was worried about how Chrissy would react?
”Well... then I suppose it will end here,” you whispered, your voice broken. ”You know me, Eddie, you know I would’ve never cross any boundaries if you weren’t okay with it. But clearly I didn’t mean as much to you as I thought. What was I – a distraction until something better came along?”
Eddie’s eyes widened. ”Of course not! I only meant... Chrissy is my girlfriend! She won’t be happy that I hang out with someone that has feelings for me. Would you if the roles were reversed?”
”I think you made it quite clear that that would never happen,” you said, wiping your eyes. ”It doesn’t matter. I can’t help my feelings and you can’t help yours. But... I need some distance, Eddie. I guess that works out good for you, protecting Chrissy’s feelings.”
Now Eddie was starting to look worried again. It was clear that even though he didn’t feel the same about you as you did him, he hadn’t expected that it might end your friendship.
”You want to punish me for not being in love with you? I can’t control something like that.”
You immediately got angry. ”Is that what you think of me? No! But you said it yourself – you can’t hang out with me now because you know I have feelings for you. And you pick Chrissy,” you told him, not being able to hold back the bitterness in your voice.
”It’s not about picking! You’re still my best friend, but Chrissy...”
”I can’t just forget that I’m in love with you,” you told him with a roll of your eyes. ”However much I wish I could.”
”Yeah, I wish you could too,” Eddie said, realizing too late how cruel he sounded. ”I wish this conversation never happened. What good did it do that you told me this?”
 As if he wanted to twist the dagger in your heart even more. You inhaled sharply but didn’t reply.
You made a silent wish when you turned around and walked out of the door of his trailer.
I wish I could forget everything about you, Eddie Munson. It would make it so much easier.  
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You immediately drove to Family Video, knowing that both Robin and Steve was working today. As you walked inside Robin’s eyes widened at the sight of your red-rimmed eyes.
”Y/N! What happened?” she wondered as she grabbed your arm and pulled you behind the counter.
You told her and Steve everything, knowing you could trust them.
Robin pulled you in for a hug and Steve muttered something about kicking Eddie’s ass, which made you laugh.
”Steve, don’t be silly. I mean... he’s right. He can’t help how he’s feeling. He likes Chrissy, he doesn’t like me like that. I can accept that – no one can control their feelings. It’s the way he’s acted toward me until now. I guess I can understand why he wouldn’t want to hang out with me knowing I’m in love with him, because it would make it awkward for Chrissy.
”Maybe. But he was still insenstive toward you,” Steve said, shaking his head. ”Nothing should get in the way of friendship.”
”Yes. But... I can’t deny that he has a point. I would probably be uncomfortable if the roles were reversed, like he said,” you admitted.
Steve still thought Eddie had been a jerk to you. Especially since Eddie had told Steve that he knew that this thing with Chrissy might only last until she left for college. That Eddie was willing to throw away a friendship for something that was just temporary... that was such a mean thing to do.
”I’m just going to go home, lick my wounds and...”
”... have lots of chocolate!” Robin interrupted. ”Take whatever you need, on the house. You want me to come over after I’m done here?”
”No, thank you, I want to be alone. But I’d love some chocolate and slasher movies. Then I can watch someone else get fucked up instead of me,” you half-joked.
Less than ten minutes later you left Family Video, stocked with ice cream, chocolate bars and a couple of movies in your arms that you put into the backseat, before starting your car and driving towards home.
You thought once again about Eddie. You knew your feelings for him wouldn’t disappear – it wasn’t like you hadn’t tried that before.
Maybe you two would never be the same again. And you would have to live with that pain, while he cozied up to Chrissy. The girl that hadn’t said ’iota’ when her ex boyfriend tormented Eddie, tormented you and the rest of the gang.
You were so deep in your thoughts that you didn’t see the little girl cross the road until it was almost too late.
With a yelp you sharply turned the wheel, just noticing the blue little blossoms she was dropping onto the road before a large tree appeared in front of you.
As a large crash rumbled into your ears, the windowshield turning into a web of cracks and your head hitting the steering wheel with a force that made it feel like your skull exploded, you swore you could hear a small little voice chiming ”he loves me, he loves me not.”
Was it the little girl?
Then everything went black.
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Eddie was still at home, waiting for Chrissy to call him after practice, thinking about what had happened with Y/N.
That she’d had feelings for him, so long. How could he not have noticed? The two of them were best friends after all!
When he remembered how her face had fallen and how she told him that she would keep a distance... it made his heart ache. Y/N had been a constant in his life for so many years. It was hard to imagine a life without her.
But Chrissy was his girlfriend now. A girlfriend had to come first! Right?
A girlfriend he hadn’t even bother planning a future with because he knew there wasn’t one...
He tried to imagine his life without Chrissy. If he had to be honest with himself… it didn’t feel quite as sad as he thought it would – because  it wouldn’t make much of a difference from how he had lived until now.
Then he tried to imagine a life without Y/N.
That. That hurt. It felt like someone had punched him in the ribs.
That’s when the phone rang. And it wasn’t Chrissy.
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Eddie stormed into the hospital, seeing the children, Steve, Robin, Nancy and Jonathan in the waiting room.
”How is she?” he breathed out.
”What are you doing here? Won’t your girlfriend feel ’awkward’?” Steve couldn’t help but ask.
Eddie froze in his steps, staring at Steve.
Robin patted Steve’s arm. ”Not now, Steve,” she said, glancing over to the younger teenagers.
Dustin, whom had been the one to call Eddie, looked up at him. ”A little girl walked out into the road and Y/N swerved to avoid hitting her, but she ended up crashing into a tree instead.”
”And?” Eddie wondered, breathing fast as he imagined Y/N’s car crashing into a tree, how scared she must have been.
”We don’t know. She’s hit head pretty badly on the steering wheel and has some cuts from the glass. She was unconscious when they brought her in with the ambulance,” Dustin continued. ”We don’t know if she got any other injuries, right now we’re just... waiting.”
Eddie nodded and sat down. Steve was pacing back and forth in the waiting room and when he was beside Eddie, turning around for the fifteenth time he spat: ”You sure you want to wait here with us? What about Chrissy? Don’t want to keep her waiting, right?”
Eddie glared at Steve. ”Y/N’s my best friend, of course I want to be here.”
”Really?” Steve questioned, tapping his chin. ”Your best friend? No, that doesn’t sound right. Not when Y/N herself told me that you picked Chrissy over her and that she had, ’ruined everything’.”
Eddie paled, realizing that Steve knew what had happened. What he had done. ”That’s... I didn’t mean... ”
”Enough, you two,” Dustin said, but with the way he looked at Eddie, Eddie once again felt like someone had punched him in the ribs. ”Y/N is going to want all of us here when she wakes up. We’re here for her, so quit your dick measuring contest!”
Both Eddie and Steve’s eyes widened as they stared at Dustin cursing them out before it got quiet again.
Eddie didn’t fail to notice though, that while the others spoke among each other, no one spoke to him.
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It felt like they had been waiting for years when Y/N’s mother finally came out into the waiting room to talk to them all.
”Y/N... she’s most likely going to be fine. The seat belt broke a couple of ribs as well as the force of the crash, which punctured a lung, but they have repaired it now. She’s also gotten a pretty hard knock to the head when she hit the tree. I know you’re all eager to see her, and I understand that, but she’s very tired from them repairing the lung and pain medication. She needs to rest. But I will tell her you are all thinking about her.”
The others sighed, but nodded and got up. Robin gave Y/N’s mother a hug and Nancy spoke kindly to her, telling her especially what she wanted Y/N  to know.
Eddie seemed to be the only one that noticed something was off. He knew Y/N’s mother well and he could tell that she was holding something back. So he pretended like he was going to the vending machine to get a snack when the others trooped out.
Then he stayed in the waiting room, until finally, an hour later, Y/N’s mother went outside again, seemingly going to get a cup of coffee.
Then Eddie quickly snuck into Y/N’s room.
The first he felt was relief. She was lying back against the pillow, the whole right side of her face purple and blue from the hit and an oxygen tube in her nose, probably to help the injured lung. A few cuts on her forehead but not deep enough that she’d needed stitches.
She was even awake, looking out the window with tired eyes. He had been terrified she’d been in a coma.
”Y/N!” Eddie exclaimed and saw how she jerked, grimacing from the pain, which made him feel bad for scaring her, and then she turned her gaze towards him. ”Sweetheart! I’m so sorry... when I heard... you can’t imagine how that...”
Y/N’s eyes widened and she shied away as if she was afraid of him and Eddie frowned, taking a step closer, ”Y/N, what’s wrong? Are you angry with me? I understand that, but...” Y/N looked into his eyes, asking in a monotone voice: ”I’m sorry... do... do I know you?”
Eddie frowned, not understanding. For a moment he thought Y/N was joking with him, but the expression in her eyes... confusion, fear... not a hint of recollection.
He heard the door open behind him and Y/N’s mother gasp. ”Eddie! I told you...”
Y/N’s mother hurried over to Y/N’s bed, taking her hand. ”I’m sorry, dear. This... this is Eddie,” she told Y/N, her voice calm as if she was comforting a scared child.
”Do I know him?” Y/N wondered, voice small and trembling. “I… I don’t… remember?”
That’s when Eddie understood.
The hit to Y/N’s head had affected her memory. She didn’t know who he was.
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anonymousewrites · 10 months ago
Text
A Not-So-Disastrous Romance (Book 1) Chapter Nineteen
Kusuo Saiki x Reader
Chapter Nineteen: Toritsuka’s Possessions and Club
Summary: (Y/N) and Saiki get dragged into two of Toritsuka's schemes to try to get girls and decide to take matters into their own hands.
            “You should tell him how you feel, Miko,” said a girl to her friend as they walked back.
            “No way!”
            “You should make a move.”
            “He’s popular, you know.”
            “Oh, there he is! Good luck.”
            (Y/N) turned around to watch. “I wonder who the popular guy is—Oh.”
            Hearing their surprise, Saiki turned around. Oh indeed. It was Toritsuka.
            “Toritsuka, would you want to go to a movie with me?” said the girl nervously.
            “Wow, is he actually getting a girl to go out with him?” said (Y/N). It was a strange development. Usually, girls avoided him after the novelty of meeting a medium wore off.
            “Sure, let’s go,” said Toritsuka.
            “You said you were going with me, too!” said another girl.
            “I’m going with Reita, too!” said a third.
            (Y/N) and Saiki exchanged glances. Now this was suspicious.
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            “Man, this is tough,” laughed Toritsuka. (Y/N) and Saiki had come up to him for an explanation after classes in the courtyard. The ghosts had told Toristuka (Y/N) knew about the whole “psychic powers” thing, so he talked openly in front of them (which was unfortunate, since he could be a real perv). “Being popular is harder than it looks.”
            “It doesn’t look like it bothers you too much,” said Saiki.
            “Well, in a sense, it is thanks to you, Saiki,” said Toritsuka.
            “It is?” said (Y/N), tilting their head.
            “Absolutely not.” Saiki didn’t want (Y/N) thinking he was involved with any of Toritsuka’s terrible ideas.
            “Remember how I performed at the school festival? It was a huge success,” said Toritsuka.
            “What?” said Saiki incredulously.
            “I was really bad at first,” admitted Toritsuka. “I even heard a weird sound and had no idea how I made it. But just when I was going to give up, he showed up.”
            “Who?” asked (Y/N).
            “He was a ghost with a mop-top haircut and glasses,” said Toritsuka. “He was a world-famous legendary musician who died at the young age of forty.”
            “You couldn’t possibly mean—”
            “That’s right. It was John. It was John Komatsu!” said Toritsuka.
            “That’s not who I thought it was,” said (Y/N).
            “I let him possess my body, and he overtook the souls of the audience in an instant!” said Toritsuka. “Spirit-summoning is a wonderful ability.”
            “Oh, so you’re abusing other people’s talents to try to get with girls,” said (Y/N), unimpressed.
            Saiki nodded. “Well-said.”
            “No, I’m using my spirit-summoning talent to try to get with girls,” said Toritsuka.
            “That’s not better,” said (Y/N).
            “Why are you checking another guy out?!” A shout went up through the courtyard as a boy grabbed a girl by the wrist.
            “It hurts, let go!” cried the girl.
            Toritsuka ran over and separated them. “Don’t lay your hands on a girl!”
            “This has nothing to do with you!” growled the original boy.
            “How pathetic are you, being so jealous?” said Toritsuka.
            “I’m going to kill you!” said the boy, aiming a bunch.
            “Uh-oh!” said (Y/N) standing.
            Saiki reached out and touched their wrist to stop them. “A ghost is possessing him. He’s fine.”
            Toritsuka blocked the attack easily and grinned back at Saiki and (Y/N). “Did you see whose move that was? An action star who passed away at the age of thirty-two.”
            “You don’t mean—”
            “Yes! It’s Bru Scorpion Jr’s move,” said Toritsuka. “I summoned the legendary kung-fu master.”
            “Who are these people?” said (Y/N), and Saiki shrugged.
            “Saiki! This ability will make me the most popular man in the world,” declared Toritsuka.
            “But it’s not your own personality,” said (Y/N). “Isn’t that a problem?”
            “He doesn’t realize that this isn’t going to end well,” said Saiki.
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            Toristuka happily led thirteen girls towards the movie theater after school, eager to have a successful group date. All of his dreams were coming true. The only thing he needed was for the spirits to stay in line and not keep bothering him to borrow his body.
            Behind the group, Saiki and (Y/N) watched them go.
            “Is anything going wrong?” asked (Y/N).
            “He’s being weird,” said Saiki. “But that’s standard Toritsuka.” He stepped up. “I’m going to make sure he doesn’t try anything.”
            (Y/N) smiled. He was going to keep Toritsuka in line, even if he insisted these things had nothing to do with him. “You’re going to stand out in the group of girls.”
            Saiki poofed into smoke, and when (Y/N) could see him again, a girl with light pink hair and clear glasses stood in front of them.
            “Kusuo?” said (Y/N).
            “I go by Kuriko in this form,” said Saiki.
            (Y/N) beamed. “Wow, I didn’t know you could do that.”
            Saiki nodded. “I prefer being a boy.”
            “Well, you look nice as a girl, if that helps,” said (Y/N), rambling with a smile. It was a risk to say something like that with their feelings being what they were and Saiki not seeming to like such emotions, but they’d say it because it was true.
            Saiki nodded curtly, a warmth in her chest. “Thank you.”
            “I guess we can blend in now,” said (Y/N), taking a step forward. They were ambiguous enough.
            Saiki nodded, and they stepped up to the back of the group to keep an eye on Toritsuka.
            “Toritsuka, tell us something funny!” said one girl.
            “Yes, I’d love to hear a joke,” said a second.
            “Something funny?” Toritsuka considered. “Then, I’ll tell you about the erotic movie—” He cut himself off. He couldn’t say something like that. Instead, he let a charismatic CEO and speaker—Montecarlo Sudo—take over his body and begin speaking about different types of phones and ipods he has.
            The girls looked unimpressed and bored. Clearly, Sudo hadn’t been the right choice.
            “Yare yare. I came out of worry, but I see that wasn’t needed,” said Saiki.
            “Looks like he’s just out of his depth. The girls should be fine,” said (Y/N), satisfied.
            Saiki paused as she turned away, though, since she could hear Toritsuka’s worried thoughts as he failed to switch back into his own body.
            Abruptly, Toritsuka’s body began to sing as Komatsu switched in.
            “Uh, Kuriko?” asked (Y/N), confused.
            “He can’t get control of his body back,” said Saiki. “He’s super confused.”
            “Can you help him out? I know he was being a creep, but he can get his karma in his own body,” said (Y/N).
            Saiki nodded and projected her words into (Y/N) and Toritsuka’s minds. “You can’t switch back because that’s not your body anymore.”
            Toritsuka’s ghost looked over in alarm at (Y/N) and the girl who must be Saiki in confusion.
            “It seems like they have been using your body more than you lately,” said Saiki. “It’s like when your dog gets attached to the person watching them when you travel.”
            Toritsuka, of course, freaked out.
            “He’s panicking, isn’t he?” said (Y/N).
            Saiki nodded.
            “Can’t say he doesn’t deserve it,” said (Y/N), shrugging.
            Even (Y/N)’s kindness has a limit. “He’s begging me to help him,” said Saiki.
            Toritsuka’s body stopped singing and began practicing kung-fu, punching and kicking the air while the girls looked on in shock and disgust. As soon as the body approached them, they made a hasty exit, over the whole thing and any crushes they had on Toritsuka.
            “Maybe we shouldn’t let him run around like that,” said (Y/N).
            “Yare yare. I guess we should help,” said Saiki, stepping up to Toritsuka’s body.
            “How are you going to—”
            Saiki kicked Toritsuka’s stomach, and the ghosts were forcibly expelled from his body (and Toritsuka went flying).
            “Wow,” said (Y/N). They grinned. “That was a super cool kick!”
            Toritsuka trembled as he stood in his own body. He groaned and held his stomach. “Saiki, thank you so much. I learned a lesson, too. I’ll try to do things on my own without depending so much on ghosts.” He paused and looked at Saiki. He coughed. “Hey, uh, Saiki. Are those boobs real?”
            “You should go to Heaven, too,” said Saiki, putting her hands on her hips.
            “Ew,” said (Y/N), making a face.
            Toritsuka pouted as everyone looked at him with grossed-out expressions.
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            “Are you joining any clubs, Kusuo?” asked (Y/N) as they headed into the lunchroom. The new term had begun, so clubs were advertising for new members once more.
            Saiki shook his head. “What about you?”
            “I’m a part of the Cooking and Baking Club,” said (Y/N). “But I’ve been doing that for a while.” They smiled. “I’m hoping to be president by senior year.”
            “I’m sure you’ll get there,” said Saiki. He had the honor of being (Y/N)’s test subject for new recipes, and they were always delicious.
            “Thanks,” said (Y/N), smiling.
            “Saiki! (L/N)!” Toritsuka ran up behind them, and Saiki shut the door in his face.
            Toritsuka pouted, opened the door, and followed them to their table. “I wanted to talk to you two about something.”
            “We’re not joining your club,” said Saiki. He refused to get involved with Toritsuka, and he didn’t want (Y/N) being near his plots for girls either.
            “Saiki, do you want to start a club with me?” said Toritsuka, ignoring Saiki.
            “Still no,” said Saiki.
            “What is it?” asked (Y/N) curiously.
            “An excuse to get close to girls,” said Saiki.
            “Toristuka…” sighed (Y/N), disappointed. “I thought you just learned a lesson about how wrong that goes for you.”
            “You know, I’m not sure what club it’s going to be, yet,” said Toritsuka, ignoring their comments and addressing his club again.
            “How about a club of shame?” suggested Saiki.
            “Well, I tried to get into other clubs—” all to get closer to girls, of course “—but I was rejected from all of them, so I have no choice but to make my own,” said Toritsuka. He brightened. “I need to build my own harem!”
            “You mean club?” said Saiki, nearly rolling his eyes.
            “…Toritsuka, just…no,” said (Y/N), shaking their head.
            Toristuka stood. “I just got an idea of what club to start!”
            “I don’t care,” said Saiki.
            “The Occult Club,” said Toritsuka.
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            Sure enough, by the next day in school, a giant sign for the Occult Club (reading “primarily girls wanted”) was plastered up on the walls, and people were gathered around it curiously).
            “They’re taking the bait!” said Toritsuka excitedly.
            “Will that poster really work?” said Saiki.
            “I mean, a few people like the occult,” said (Y/N), considering.
            “Have you heard of misattribution of arousal?” said Toritsuka.
            (Y/N) blanched. “What does that have to do with anything?”
            “It’s a theory stating that people can mistake fear for attraction,” said Toritsuka.
            “He never studies, yet he knows stuff like this.”
            “The Occult Club is the perfect way to put this to use!” said Toristuka, proud of himself.
            “You put a lot of effort into really strange things,” said (Y/N) brightly.
            Toritsuka walked into his clubroom—a regular room darkened with blackout curtains and a lack of turned-on lights. “There may already be new applicants!” He didn’t see anyone and walked farther in. “I guess we need more time.”
            “Can Kusuo and I not be a part of this?” said (Y/N).
            “There is someone here,” said Saiki.
            “I would like to be a part of the Occult Club,” said a girl from the darkness.
            Toritsuka looked over eagerly but jumped as she loomed out of the darkness.
            “Nice to meet you,” said the girl, hair draped over her face.
            Toritsuka screamed. “Saiki, it’s a ghost!”
            (Y/N) turned on the lights to reveal a perfectly normal girl who just had a strange hairstyle.
            “Calm down, aren’t you used to seeing ghosts?” said Saiki.
            “I’m Arisu Makino,” said the girl. “In middle school, I read about three thousand books on black magic and spiritualism. Because the devil summoning requires six people as sacrifices, I have come to join.”
            “I’m not going to be a sacrifice, actually,” said (Y/N) jovially. “I’m not a part of this club.”
            “You should be a little more concerned about the idea of sacrifices,” said Saiki.
            “The people from the Occult Club went that way,” said Toritsuka, pointing out the door and totally lying.
            “Oh, really?” said Makino.
            “Hey, you’re the club president,” said Saiki, not letting him get away with anything.
            The door of the clubroom opened, and Toritsuka grinned at it. “Welcome to the Occult Club.”
            “What? Is this it or not?” asked Makino in confusion.
            “It is,” said (Y/N), nodding to her.
            “The Occult Club?” Kaidou looked in. “My name is Jet Black Wings, an exorcist who just happened to be passing by.”
            “Hey, Kaidou!” said (Y/N), waving.
            “Oh, Saiki, (L/N), hi,” said Kaidou, noticing them nervously.
            “Do you know him?” asked Toritsuka, looking at the two. “Hold on.” He chuckled. “You’re the chihuahua!” He laughed as he remembered Kaidou’s spirit guide.
            “Don’t call me that!” cried Kaidou, embarrassed.
            “Anyways, guys are not allowed to join the club,” said Toritsuka.
            “What?” said Kaidou, confused and disappointed.
            The door opened again, and Yumehara stepped in.
            “Excuse me, I would like to join the Occult Club,” she said. She pretended to innocently look around before “noticing” Kaidou. “Oh, my! Kaidou, what a coincidence! You surprised me.”
            “Aw, that’s kind of cute,” said (Y/N). “She’s trying to understand what he’s interested in.”
            Is that what I should be doing more? thought Saiki. He considered for a moment, but all he could think was that he and (Y/N) already did plenty together and hung out regularly. Still, he’d try to pay some more attention to them. Would that show he cared? Saiki didn’t want (Y/N) to think he didn’t value them.
            “I didn’t know you’d be here,” said Yumehara, smiling at Kaidou.
            A cute girl is here! thought Toristuka triumphantly. “Welcome,” he said, winking. “Are you ready to have a dangerous time?”
            “Uh…” Yumehara looked unimpressed.
            “Hey! So guys can’t join this club?” said Kaidou accusatorily.
            “That’s right!” Toritsuka tried to hug Makino and Yumehara, but (Y/N) moved in between him and them. “This is my harem, the Occult Club.”
            “It isn’t,” said Saiki.
            “Girls have stronger spiritual powers than guys, so you can’t join,” decided Toritsuka.
            “What? Kaidou can’t join the club?” said Yumehara. Her gaze darkened. “Sorry. I quit.” She walked up to Kaidou. “Kaidou, why don’t we make our own club?”
            “What? Oh, uh, sure, okay,” said Kaidou, nervous about Yumehara walking up to him.
            “I want to join, too,” said Makino.
            “Wait!” cried Toritsuka as he lost everyone. He bowed to Kaidou. “I’ll allow you to join the club.” But he wasn’t happy having a “rival.”
            Kaidou brightened, and Yumehara grinned and blushed excitedly.
            “Let’s have fun together, Kaidou!” said Yumehara.
            “Toritsuka’s not happy about Kaidou getting the attention,” said (Y/N). They chuckled quietly. “He kind of deserves it.”
            Saiki nodded. “He doesn’t stand a chance.” But “misattribution of arousal?” Curious, he decided to try something out. That is interesting.
            His psychokinesis hit the lights.
            “What happened?!” said Kaidou, looking around.
            “A blackout? I’m scared,” cried Yumehara.
            (Y/N) jumped at the sudden darkness and reached out to grab Saiki’s sleeve. It was instinctual; they felt safer knowing he was there.
            Static blared from the (digital) TVs, and Yumehara jumped towards Kaidou.
            “The door won’t open!” cried Toritsuka, trying to pull it open.
            “Calm down,” said Makino. “Let’s remain calm and chant a spell.” She put her hands together and began chanting.
            “Kusuo, is this just you?” whispered (Y/N).
            “Yes,” said Saiki, and he watched as (Y/N) relaxed.
            “Oh, good,” they said. They smiled sheepishly and let go of his sleeve. “I guess that was pretty silly of me to get scared while in school.”
            “Don’t feel bad. They’re still scared,” said Saiki, watching the group. “I guess that’s enough.” He let the TVs switch off and the lights come on. He looked at the results of his experiment. “Yumehara has a high likability for Kaidou.”
            “Were you seriously testing Toritsuka’s ‘misattribution of arousal’ thing?” said (Y/N) incredulously.
            Saiki shrugged. “I was curious.”
            “…Was he right or being stupid?” said (Y/N), a little bit curious now that the experiment had been conducted.
            “He’s always stupid, but…” He looked over at Toritsuka, who was staring at Makino.
            My heart is pounding… Toritsuka gazed at Makino, eyes wide and cheeks red. There is no doubt about it! I’m in love with Arisu Makino!
            “He fell victim to his own ploy,” said Saiki. “His likability towards Makino rose a lot.”
            (Y/N) shook their head and chuckled. “Toritsuka always gets himself into trouble with his own ideas.”
            “He does,” agreed Saiki. He glanced at them. I wonder what your likability of me is. For a moment, Saiki legitimately considered checking. And then…he decided not to. If they didn’t like him any more than a friend and the score was low, Saiki would be disappointed. Plus…even a high likability could just be really liking someone as a friend. It wouldn’t clear anything out.
            And Saiki didn’t want his heart to be hurt.
            Little did he know, (Y/N) harbored the same feelings for him as he did for them. No misattribution of feelings there.
Taglist:
@elaemae
@painstakingly-juno
@characterreaderwriter
@melovepurple
@sleep-7372
@w0mank1sser
@geminigengar
@noodleryworld
@leonardo-dabitchy
@janezee12751275
@xenop0p
@ex160-blog1
@boogiemansbitch
@dmitrytherat
@yuriisclumsy
@sixxze
@constellationguy
@k03ume
@sweatyinternettrash
@paastaboi
@unorthodox-gob
@girlswhopanic
@h-i-g-h-w-a-y-t-o-h-e-l-l-l
@drowningfishy
@rinwho
@izzieg3987
@candylp
@jmclouds
@ittomain1
@justamina-blog
@newtscreatures347269
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crsssie · 3 months ago
Text
calling it love, but this isn't falling
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word count: 1.6k
warnings: non explicit smut (one paragraph)
summary: huh. not kid anymore
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If you had to describe Keegan, it'd be something along the lines of "an old man's soul stuck in a young man's body" or something adjacent.
You had watched him in high school — three years above you, captain of the basketball team, president of the social services club, set to join the military after graduation, and you had hung out in his friend group by pure chance. A senior had adopted you as a freshman, and you had been in the group, watching Keegan since.
Pretty blues. He has striking blue eyes — cold when out playing on the court, yet somehow warm when he was talking to his friends. He always struck you as that kind of person. He'd suit the battlefield. You know? But the truth was, you read stories about the battlefield and its repercussions, and you were certain that by the time that Keegan was in the military, he'd be gone and dead and maybe blown up in the Middle East all for the sake of some oil. The people who die in war are expendable at the hands of the government, so when the entire group had waved goodbye to him at his enlistment, you had tucked him a small four-leaf clover into his palm, telling him to tuck it into his hat so that at the very least, he would not be shot through the skull.
"You sure care about me, kid."
"I'm your friend. It's a given. Good luck, Keegan."
"I'll be back. Promise."
You're graduating your bachelor's degree when Keegan comes back from the war. Alive, yes. Shell-shocked, yes. It's hard to describe PTSD because it's not just the clattering and loud noises. It's also the silence that comes with it, and when you spot Keegan with all of your high school friends at your graduation, your heart stops in your chest because that's not Keegan. That's the shell of him. It's hard to even begin to describe just who he is now.
"Congrats on the degree, kid." He hums, handing back the same four-leaf clover, and you start crying.
You tell everyone it's just because you're happy to be done and to be able to see Keegan, but it's far from the truth.
Keegan ends up at the same university that you go to grad school for.
You spot him at orientation, and you stick around him, watching as you point him through everything that he needs to know, and you blink and blink and blink and blink at him until you're blinking out tears and you feel like a child all over again. You wonder if you should just tell Keegan that maybe being around him is bad for your health and eyes, but you decide against it.
You wipe at your tears and tell him you're just being sentimental. Now you're telling him the ropes to handling certain situations when he was the one doing that back in high school.
"Nothing to get sentimental over." Keegan hums, offering you a pack of napkins from his pocket as you sniffle.
"Fuck you."
"Apartment's open."
You punch him in the arm for it.
Keegan is good at staying quiet. He's always been. Despite the unofficial acknowledgment that he was the leader in the high school friend group, he had always been quiet. Talked with his eyes. You stare into his eyes when he raises a brow at the rest of the group, and you learn to read him just based off of an expression. An older brother to anyone and everyone. Yet, despite it all, you never quite learned too much about him. A family crowded in much secrecy. The stability in his personality was rare in a broken house, so you always assumed that he had just been part of a white picket fence home.
He's always been the type to take care of you.
You find it strange that you're teaching him what drinks to touch and not, and you hand him a can of beer, grabbing a shot for yourself, and shotgunning a soda as a chaser. You wipe your mouth of the sugar as Keegan stares, bursting into laughter when your raise a brow at him and offer the rest of the drink to him.
"That's unsanitary, kid."
"Can't die from a little metal poisoning." You lick your lips, tossing the rest of it as you hum. "Most people pregame at home, but since we met up, I don't expect you to have done anything."
"Always full of surprises, eh?"
"Have to be. What's a little fun?" You hum. "We can bus home or call a cab later. See you in a bit!"
You rush into the crowd to disappear.
It's a little unfair, though. You don't ever think Keegan's thought too much about you while you had always looked up to him, so it feels a little strange for you to be on top of him, sunk down on him, legs flush against his hips as your fingers wrap around his neck, your brows furrowed as you breathe in and out. He's pretty like this, blues hazy as you stare down at him, room suddenly too small, breath suddenly too short. It's unfair that you get to see him like this, you think. You can name at least five other people who used to be in your friend group who had a crush on him. Unfair, unfair, unfair. Your lips press to his collar, lipgloss smearing on the white of his skin, and you wonder if he's going to forget all of this in the morning.
You don't know if you want him to.
You wake to Keegan in bed with an arm around your waist, face nestled into your chest.
Keegan wakes to an empty bed and pills on his nightstand.
You pretend it didn't happen. As long as Keegan doesn't bring it up, you don't either. Yet, you stick around for breakfast, handing him his usual order and morning coffee, a cup of tea specifically gifted to him at orientation in a mug that you had given him for secret Santa years ago in your hand, hum on your lips as Keegan has breakfast.
"What are we?"
"I don't know." You shrug. "Y'wanna give it a label?"
"Not really."
"There we go."
You leave after breakfast, turning down Keegan's offer to drive you back.
You're set to graduate earlier than Keegan — understandably so, and so when you're graduating again, Keegan's got flowers in his arms for you and a smile on his face as you beam at him. You don't invite the high school friend group since you've lost contact, and Keegan's all you have left from that period of life. He offers you a dinner on him, turned down when you steal the flowers and press your lips to his, pulled down by the collar as he sinks into the kiss, humming as you let go with a dramatic throw of your head, cheeky and grinning when he looks down at you.
Keegan's learned that you don't do labels out of a fear and not because you genuinely don't do labels.
Maybe you don't quite understand the point either.
You wonder what you're to do now that you're done, applying to jobs and doctorates, crashing on Keegan's couch and abandoning your apartment, moved into the original storage room that he had.
You care yet you don't.
He knows yet he doesn't.
You pay him your half of rent, and you manage to pull some strings to stay in the same university, starting at the beginning of the new year rather than the schoolyear, and when you show Keegan your offer, he's got you giggling and laughing as he pins you down on the couch.
You don't know if you crave the domesticity of your relationship or something else.
The bed in the storage room is eventually sold to some student as you start sleeping on Keegan's, his bare skin on yours more times than your heart beats in a day. Something about being vulnerable with his skin out, trusting you to never hurt or harm him in any way. You think there's something strange about making it so far with him. A piece of your past that just stuck around and never left.
Even when he graduates and you've got flowers for him, you tell him you'll just take over his lease if he decides to move out.
Instead, he lifts you into his arms, pressing his forehead to yours, asking if you really ever thought about spending the rest of your life with him.
Maybe it's just some semblance of romance to you. You don't know.
You tell him you wouldn't mind.
It's a little untraditional to do a quick courthouse wedding with a random witness pulled off the street and with rings the two of you had found at the closest thrift shop, but it's also just how it's always been.
Post-marriage ice cream. Insane move on his end, and you think it's crazy, but you think you grow used to it. You don't even ask how Keegan knew you wanted ice cream.
"You marryin' me because you wanna take care of me?"
"Always have been, honey."
Huh. Not kid anymore.
"Not kid?"
"Not with that ring on your finger."
"Maybe this was your masterplan all along."
"Maybe." He pauses to laugh. "Or maybe I just love you."
"Maybe." You pause to stare out the window. "Not changing my last name, though. What the hell is Russ?"
"The etymology has something to do with redheads or fox-likes."
"Huh." You pause to think. "That might've sold me."
"Yeah?"
"After the degree, though."
"Of course."
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goldsbitch · 9 months ago
Text
Hypochondria
part 3 to p1, p2
It's time to tell you exactly what makes me your soulmate. Disaster dinner continues.
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20:19
Is it possible to miss someone you've never met? In what strange corner of the universe would this make sense? It felt just like that to Lando - as if he just reunited with an old friend and desperately searched for a way how to connect again. Where to start?
Anita solved that one for him. "Y//N is one of the medics on grid. She was so lovely today. Helped me a lot!" She turned to Lando and then Y/N in a search of some reaction, but those two were stuck in their own silence. She brushed it off and continued. "I figured it would be nice to take her out for a dinner. Wanted to have her join for the club later, but I am afraid it's for invited only, sorry..." she said, with fake modesty. Lando scoffed, completely unbothered by anyone noticing. Anita was doing it again, luring people in and then making sure she nonchalantly pointed out that she is more "VIP" then they are. He usually brushed it of and sometimes found it funny, but this time it made him fuming.
"You are more than kind to do this," Y/N replied and Lando had to close his eyes in order to hide how overcome he was instantly by hearing her speak. Her own voice was always blurry in his visions. Hearing it now, in real life...It was like getting new headphones. "But remember, you should not drink today after the heatstroke...I just need to point that out, can't stop myself," she said semi jokingly.
"Oh course, sweetheart," she replied and took a sip of her cocktail.
Y/N felt a little out of her place in the restaurant, not really sure what she was doing there and why she agreed to come with them. They were a couple, so why was she there playing the third violin? She tried to stop all her intrusive thoughts about Anita's boyfriend. But how could she, the most gorgeous and alluring guy was sitting right there. She secretly watched all of his little moves, the way how he twitched his fingers while holding the menu and wondered how his skin would feel on her own. She cursed herself for being so easily distracted by him. Barely glancing at the menu, she waited for what the two would order and was planning on matching them.
A charming waiter came, shared few words with Anita and recommended some dishes from the special menu.
"I'll have the truffle pasta, sounds great," Anita said, smiling flirtatiously at the waiter. There was an awkward silence, which Y/N tried to fill in. "Yes, I'll have the same, sounds great."
Lando did not even think twice before speaking up. "Um, actually, I really think you should try their salmon. It's to die for. I think you'll love it." He was not able to look at her, while she did the exact opposite. She was taken back by his forward comment. Salmon was her absolute favorite dish. What a strange coincidence that he would recommend it. "Can we get two of the salmon dishes? If that's ok with you, Y/N," he continued, this time finding the courage to look at Y/N. She panicked. "Yeah, yeah. Salmon. Great."
It was like a fire was lit in Lando. He opened the can of worms and there was no way going back. Suddenly, he had all the answers right at arms lenght. And the questions just started flowing.
"How do you like working at the formula 1 medics team?" "Will you be tracking the whole season?" "Do you like traveling so much?" "Are you missing your friends and family?"
It might have been too much for someone to be bombarded with questions, but she found herself excited and eager to overshare. Those two danced a dance of their own, laughing gently and speaking over each other, while also eagerly listening to what the other one had to say.
Anita felt like she was sinking into the chair deeper with every minute that passed. She knew the feeling all to well. Lando, without knowing probably, found anyone apart her interesting. Practically inhaling every word Y/N said. Or at least that's how it felt. Poor girl had absolutely no idea how different this situation was for her this time. Unlike Lando, Y/N still took Anita into account.
"So, Anita, you're a model, right?"
She came back alive and started sharing model related stories, while Y/N listened. Ever-so-impatient Lando just stared at her and started biting his lip in order to stop him from speaking for a moment, realizing that he is in fact not alone with Y/N, but still in a very much public social setting. Y/N listened to Anita, while all familiar phantom pain kicked in, this time in her lips. She kept glancing over to Lando, because it was just too hard not to look at him, when she noticed how vigorously he was biting his own lip. It sometimes happened that her own inexplicable pain aligned with the actions of other. Nothing special.
Lando was at the peak of rude that evening, impatience getting the better of him. "So, Y/N, why have you decided to study medicine?" he said, when Anita took a breath, fully intending on continuing her story. The same way as he interrupted her, she did not give Y/N any room to answer.
"You know what Lando, I am getting real sick of you publicly making it obvious that you don't give a shit about me or what I have to say," she said straight to his face, internally begging for him to deny it.
"I'm sorry, it's just....not every day you meet someone who really does something special with their life," he said, as if Y/N was the first medic he had ever encountered.
"Wow, that's rich. So on top of you not caring what I have to say, you also don't think what I do is interesting."
Lando knew she was right. He knew it all along, but he was also aware of the fact that most of the times, the relationship had been beneficial to both of them. So many emotions mixing in him got him holding his fragile glass real tight.
"Don't play the innocent card," he started, looking deeply into Anita's eyes. "We both know the moment I'm not on the grid anymore, you're jumping to someone else."
The walls felt like they were closing on Y/N. Witnessing couple's fight, however quiet, was never pleasant. All the more when you'd literally just met these people. They played their little verbal tennis, while keeping the decorum composed, as they seemed to be quite skilled at that. Until Lando slipped up. His tight grip on the thin crystal finally ending up with a thousand tiny shiny glass pieces everywhere. It was like a slap to the couple, making them wake up and notice their surroundings. The good old clean up and apology dance began between the guests and the waiters, all of them rushing to help the F1 star with a minor cut that bled crimson drops on the white table cloth. Everybody was so focused on him, that they all missed the second wave of drops hitting the table, this time coming from Y/N hand. She stared at her hand and time stopped. It's not that she was scared of blood. It wasn't that it was the first time something like that happened out of nowhere. It was precisely because it did not happen out of nowhere. Her veins were rushing with panic, instead of blood. She grabbed one of the napkins and pressed hard on her hand, praying that nobody had noticed. Thousands of ideas appearing out of nowhere. So wait, anytime he got hurt, she got hurt as well? Or was it more people? Another coincidence? Her brain was an analytical one. She ran through all the possible little pains that a formula driver could have. It somehow checked out.
She stared at him, completely missing the whole scenery happening in front of her. Anita making a scene, waiters rushing around and Lando trying to calm everyone down.
"When did you crash last time? Like a big one, hospital one," she shot out, as if it was the most important piece of information known to mankind.
Lando felt her panic and intensity for a few moments before she managed to silence everyone, but was equally surprised by her question as everyone else.
"Um, I'd say...yeah, Las Vegas, November." He gave her a questioning look, trying to figure out what was going on her mind, while gesturing the staff of the restaurant to leave them alone.
A massive wave of panic settled over her, images of herself getting admitted to a hospital at that time flashing by. She had to get out there, immediately. And Lando felt that.
"No! No, you're not going anywhere. This is important, you can't just run away like you always do," he said, before she even had a chance to move, because he knew precisely what she was doing. Seen it enough times to recognize the look. If nobody stopped her, she'd be out of there in seconds, not even saying goodbye. A true flight type of person. As if she hadn't been perplexed enough by this point.
"How do you-" she started to ask before being interrupted by Anita, who had have enough.
"I'm sorry, but do you guys know each other?" she asked, with a tone of annoyance barely hidden behind a fake smile.
Lando froze once again, like he had many times that evening. It was not his fault. His soon-to-not-be girlfriend set this seventh circle of hell up. How was he supposed to respond to that?
Y/N hesitantly responded. "No, of course not. I mean, I've only worked with the team here for few weeks anyway."
"Seems like you do, by the amount of questions you're asking" Anita said directly at Lando, fully ignoring Y/N at that point.
"If I had known her, I would not have had to ask questions, right?" he responded, failing at letting his sassy side dormant.
"Is that why you never ask me any questions? Because you know me?"
He bit his tongue. Lando was trying to be good.
Anita made her signature "I knew it" smile once again, which finally set Lando off.
"One asks when they want to hear an answer."
"Great. Charming as ever. You know what? I've had enough."
"Ani, I am really sorry. This is going to sound incredibly rude. I apologize. It's nothing personal. But this is really between me and Y/N."
Absolutely mortified Y/N did not even dare to look at Anita. What the fuck was his game. That was his girlfriend, she was just a random girl.
Anita replied, without missing a beat. "You two can go and play your weird little game without me."
Heavy silence fell, as Anita hastily grabbed all of her things and walked out. Y/N was waiting to see if Lando would even consider getting up and rushing over to her, but knew well enough that that was not the case.
Lando cared. He deeply cared about what Y/N thought of him. "Before I say anything else, please know that I plan on breaking up with her and sorting it out like an adult. This is not how I usually am."
"Ok. I mean, you do you. This is all very...personal," she said, her mind still caught up in her recent discovery. "I'm sorry, this is going to sound strange, but bare with me, this evening is already so much drama, this will not be a great addition."
She was talking to him! Getting curious. Lando would be willing to sit there for hours and listen to her. "Go for it".
"Do you get that weird pain in your left elbow?"
"Yes, after a heavy work out."
"Do you bite your tongue out of nowhere?"
"Only when I'm nervous."
"Ok, ehm. Your wisdom tooth is growing, right?"
"Yup, and it hurts like hell sometimes." This time, it was her shooting questions and him trying to follow in a direction he could not yet fathom. But it was like she was in a trance.
"Ok, ok. You'll think I'm crazy."
"I know you think that," he smirked, knowing they were reaching break through.
"What?" she snapped out of it back to reality.
"You first. I think I also have something you should know." Lando was half excited, half terrified to get his truth out. After all those years, this was all happening in a matter of hours. His life was turning upside down.
Y/N took a deep breath. "The reason I went into medicine is because I have a condition. Random inexplicable pains, cuts, bruises with no real cause of correlation to what's happening with my body. Nobody knew what it was when I was growing up, so I was determined to figure it out on my own." She took out her own blood stained hand from below the table. Lando's eye's went wide. She reached out with her other hand to gesture him that all is fine and no help is needed.
"I think my body mirrors what happens to yours."
"I can feel your emotions. And see glimpses of your life," he blurted out, unable to hold this in for any longer.
//
They did not stay in the restaurant for long. Felt all too public for this type of conversation. Instead, they were back at his hotel apartment, having to sneak in to avoid any unwanted publicity. Once again, they were sitting opposite each other in his living room area.
"So wait...you feel everything I feel? Like physically?"
"Apparently," she said, flabbergasted. For some reason, the two emotions mixing with each other was anger and relief. Her biggest life mystery solved, in the weirdest way possible. Without saying a word, she kicked him in the shin.
"Ouch," he said and she flinched.
"Yep, checks out."
"I can feel your anger, you know? And frankly I don't understand why you're mad at the moment." He was fascinated. The possibilities that laid ahead of them were thrilling.
"I believe at this stage you should also be able to also see my anger. Pray tell me why, why did you have to pick a career that is so physically exhausting!" she moaned, causing him to laugh out loud. Yeah, that was really unfortunate on his part. He made a note mentally to hire a physical therapist for her one day.
She calmed down a bit, slowly coming to term that her emotions were not a private thing anymore - well, technically they never were.
"So what, you just casually know what I feel and see random glimpses of my life?"
"I think it's the strong emotions I feel. It seems the closer I am, the stronger it is."
She was silent, hoping to get a little more out of him. He took a deep breath, desperately trying to ease up the mood.
"Your first nights at the university apartment you shared with those three loud girls. No idea about their names, but I remember the excitement about leaving your home. And jesus, the massive mess the four of you made the first week. How at one point you had to wash your dishes in the bathtub, because it was just too much. And how much fun you'd had while doing it."
She couldn't help but smile at that very specific memory. Gone were the unhinged early uni days, for the better probably. It was absolutely breaking her mind in two, knowing he had these random glimpses in her life.
He saw (and felt) the positive emotions that entered the chat, so he tried to sway the conversation that way. "Oh, and the incredibly awkward morning when you brought that one guy home, did not realize that one of the girls was in the room the whole time and how in the morning it turned out to be her ex."
"My god, you saw that?" she said, absolutely mortified. He just nodded, his heart jumping when he made her squeamish.
"It was like being there during the incredibly awkward breakfast."
"Well," she gulped, trying to switch attention from her. "Nobody knows this, but...pain is not the only thing I feel."
She dropped the ball and watched it rolling, wondering if he'd catch up.
"What do you mean? Like exhaustion?"
"That as well."
He was still not connecting the dots.
"Had a fun night last night, didn't you?"
His eyes went wide and a strange rush of guilt washed over him. He just stared at her, finally getting why one of her first reactions was an angry one. Not that he felt that way, but the level of intrusion he must have presented to her was a lot to take in.
"Well...you're welcome, I guess?" he said cheekily, smirking because he knew exactly what she would do.
Shocked, she opened her mouth and smacked his hand jokingly, not realizing it would hurt both of them.
"Fuck this shit," she exclaimed and once again, he could not hold his laugh in as she tried to shake the pain out of her hand.
"This is going to be very funny."
"I'm sorry, Lando - this all just so bizarre. I'm barely taking it in. Literally don't understand how you're so calm."
He laughed gently. "Well, I did have few extra days to process. And hearing my name roll of your tongue is distracting enough," he said flirtatiously.
Her cheeks went red and her mind stopped, mind getting filled with desire and arousal. Lando lips turned into a wide smile, him feeling her arousal as if she was screaming it loudly to his face.
"Glad to see my words have an effect on you. This is indeed going to be fun..."
p4
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gatitties · 1 year ago
Text
Mute: O1. Flowers
─Tendou Satori x fem!reader
─Sinopsis: where Tendou seems to perfectly understand a girl who is mute without the need to make gestures.
─Warnings: none
O1. Flowers / O2. Friends! / O3. Study / O4. Ice-cream / O5. Sick / O6. Locked up / O7. Fight / O8. Friends? / O9. Grateful / 1O. Wishes
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The whistling of the birds relaxed you as you walked around the Shiratorizawa campus, you were drowning in your thoughts and you had only been there a week. But it was normal, in just seven miserable days you had already earned those looks; pity, intrigue, fear...
Thanks to?
You are mute, you do not have the ability to speak and that causes many problems when it comes to relating to people, you should always carry your charged phone or a small notebook; without that you were totally out of it, although you certainly mostly wandered alone, were it not for the two girls who desperately offered you to be part of the gardening club. They were the only ones who treated you as if you were a normal girl and not the most delicate person in the world, as if you were going to break at any moment.
But now none of that mattered, with the battery dead and without your notebook you were really lost, you only had one mission, to buy fertilizer at the store near the campus. Being you, nothing could go well for you and you confused the directions they gave you, you were still close to Shiratorizawa but you shouldn't come back without your purchases, you didn't want to disappoint the two girls and have them look at you with pity like everyone else.
So you saw them.
Your last resort, there were a couple of guys wearing the school uniform, hopefully they could understand some gestures so you could communicate. When you caught his eye your mouth dropped slightly at his height, one was quite muscular while the other was slimmer and walked a bit hunched over. They were both like giants. You stayed a few long seconds looking without doing anything, until you realized that you were making a fool of yourself as usual.
"Do you need something?"
Awkwardly you nodded, you made a couple of simple signs not very complicated but when you saw the boy's stoic face you sighed pulling some of your locks back. You looked at his redheaded companion, he was so quiet looking at you that it scared you a little; his eyes with slightly closed eyelids watched you as if he were seeing your soul.
«They really don't understand me»
"Yes, I understand you, I can go with you to buy, I also go there."
You widened your eyes in surprise, thinking that he had read your mind or maybe he understood your signs, but you were grateful so you nodded, excited to be able to fulfill your task.
"Tendou, we have to go back to the gym."
The redhead sweated, he really didn't have to go to a flower shop but you made him curious.
"Yeah, well, you know Ushiwaka, I have to go buy something."
"Okay, don't be late."
Relieved he looked where you were only to see how you looked at him with admiration? Yes, it may have been a coincidence that he could have understood you but he said exactly what you thought and you thought it was amazing.
"Come on."
He began to walk with great strides leaving you behind, you had to jog a little to be able to look him directly in the eye
«Can you understand me?»
"What kind of question is that? Obvious."
You opened your eyes even more, you hadn't even made a gesture. How could he understand you?
"Although it may not seem like it, the way you move or how you look at people are gestures that speak for themselves."
Your mouth opened when you heard him, he really was someone strange, however you liked 'talking' with him on the way to the store, you thought it was funny because of the expressions he made when he commented on something he didn't like.
«So what do you need to buy?»
You noticed how he got nervous, he smiled saying that he needed some flowers for his mother's birthday. You nodded at his message, clarifying that you were going to look after yourself while he chose the flowers. You caught him glancing at you nervously, he went back to looking at some random flowers not knowing what to buy because it definitely wasn't his mom's birthday and he didn't need those flowers. You approached lightly hitting his shoulder making him shudder at your touch.
«A yellow poppy will be fine»
Despite not understanding much about that language of plants that they told you about, you learned enough to know that those poppies meant success and health, something suitable for a mother. When you two paid you arrived at the main entrance where you said goodbye, with a feeling of happiness in the chest, you felt that you had met someone different.
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miscretis · 4 months ago
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Discord Mod!Ronin x Discord Kitten!Reader (G.n) [PART 1 OF A CRACK FIC TAKEN SERIOUSLY]
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CG art by: munstxr
WRITER'S NOTE
This used to be satire but I quickly took it quite seriously which was hilarious. Yes I still find this quite funny to write.
CW:
- Cringe
- Possibly dull writing (I'm still new and I'm tired)
- Coarse Language
❣️
“So, what would'ja do now? Taste the feeling of metallic death by my crowbar? Or ya gonna kiss me? Or are you gonna kill me? I got a knife right here! ” He lets out a dark chuckle as he closes up the gap between the both of you, pinning you to the wall. Now, how did you two end up in the dark alleyways of the Purgatory? Or rather, how did you even end up in this situation?
It all started with a text, a passcode and a link.
ERROR!UNKNOWN: don't be so obvious smh. You're Gonna Get Caught.
ERROR!UNKNOWN sent you a file.exe
ERROR!UNKNOWN: ReceivedKey: k!llrch8t_b00t.mango
here Ya go there's your Key Whenever you're Ready.
What the fuck? What is this?
All you were trying to do was to collect research for your dark romance serial killer novel and now you're being sent a strange link? (Especially after tweeting a question about killing experience with a crowbar.)
It seemed like a link to a Walmart version of discord but on the darkweb. You were wary at first, thinking about how your IP could've been doxxed if you ever clicked on the link. However you felt pressured to click on it when a notification sounded from your PC.
ERROR!UNKNOWN: are You gonna Join? you're no Fun at all.
Whoever this person was, he seemed like he wanted to mess around. Well, fine, you'll give him entertainment then.
You then clicked on the link.
You were led to a shady site with a blank for keying in the passcode. You remember the person giving you the passcode but it was long and complicated so you couldn't really memorise it properly.
Uh….maybe I'll just try keying in ‘password’?
ERROR! Wrong passcode. 2 more tries and your IP address will be revealed.
Well, shit.
You continued to rack your brain around for any possible passwords for this situation. You tried different passwords until a message showed up…
ERROR! Wrong password! Your IP address will be revealed in 3 seconds!
Just kidding, come on inside.
You entered a chatroom named “The Slaughterhouse.” with the exact same interface as discord. The channels, layout and everything.
<goreboy> welcome the Newly Christened @user
<hitmeuppp> AAA omg omg!! welcome to helllllll
<LUCA_IS_SO_COOL> WELCOME WELCOME HIIIIIII
<felicite> Nice to meet you!
<Angelic> Hi there! Glad to have another one with us ❤️
<goreboy> make Sure to take a Peek at #rules
there is Barely Anything but You Never Know
It's a serial killer chatroom. This has to be satire…right?
Oh god
You checked the rules.
<goreboy> Be a serial killer. first rule of Fight Club. Whatever i don't really give a shit lmfao. Oh and be nice don't be racist or transphobic or weird else angel will snipe u :\
<Angelic> it's not a threat it's a promise
Maybe this is just an intense roleplaying server
This must be it. These people are weirdos, not serial killers.
Maybe I’ll just play along…for now..
A day or two went by and they were still into the intense roleplay. It was weird in all honesty. Being in a server full of probably edgy teenagers talking about killing people seems to be the last time on your checklist of things to do. Least to say, it was fun and entertaining to watch. Watching them say the cringiest of things, it sure really gave you a good laugh. However soon after, you were getting bored and tired of watching by the sidelines for weeks despite the roleplay being a perfect source of research for your novel.
But a roleplay is just a roleplay…isn't it?
So, you decided to mess around to cure your boredom. Just a little more fun wouldn't hurt.
You lean back against your chair, pondering what you should do. Suddenly your thoughts drifted off to discord memes that your friends have been sending to you, then it clicked.
A discord kitten
You're not sure if you should do it, being a discord kitten is dangerous work and surely isn't a smart thing to do, especially in a server probably full of serial killers…
But yet again, they're just edgy teenagers that were very niche in intense roleplay, it would be fun to mess with them…but do you?
Fine, I'll play it this way then.
First of all, you need to find your discord mod to your discord kitten and you immediately chose the top dog, the alpha of the server, goreboy. Ronin…isn't it?
Oh god, I can't believe that I'm losing my dignity for this.
But what route could this open? A dangerous and gloomy path, or a sweet flowery romance?
At this point, you don't really care about that anymore. You just wanted to tell a good story.
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pedripics · 1 year ago
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IBAI x PEDRI - January 2, 2024 (summary)
He’s doing okay but things are a bit tough at the moment
He spent Christmas at home in Tenerife with his family
They play 'Suika Game' a lot in the dressing room (but on the phone and not the PC because it's free there lol)
He laughed a lot with Piqué in the dressing room. Piqué didn't really like training sessions but he was very good in the matches
Have you ever looked at Pique and thought that if you wanted to, you could dribble past him 7 times? - "Yes (laughs)"
Ferran has supported him a lot and is always there for him
Ferran takes the shark mentality very seriously, so Pedri gave him some shark slippers and now Ferran wears them in the dressing room
He tries to help Gavi every day because he knows what it's like to be injured for a longer time and he's confident that he will come back in great condition
Pedri does pilates now after Puyol recommended it to him
Pedri has Aleix García in his Fantasy team (his brother is first, he is second)
He rarely uses Twitter, he uses Twitch and TikTok more
They are behind Xavi 100%
In his opinion, Neymar looks good with every hairstyle
Girona are playing very well and he thinks that they could win LaLiga
Jordi Alba and Piqué were always fighting but that's how they got on. They just liked to fight lmao
Vitor Roque is wonderful, he is always happy, whenever Pedri sees him he is smiling
He doesn't like press conferences at all because they are a bit disturbing as all the journalists stare at you while you just sit there
In the Premier League, they are able to spend 80 or 90 million for players which is unbelievable. In La Liga, academies are what makes the difference
They don't really talk about the Super League in the dressing room
Boca Juniors or River Plate? - He's only watched one game and Boca won, so Boca
For Pedri, Busquets is the best No. 6 in history
His favourite player is Iniesta (in case you somehow didn't know that yet)
His favourite XI in history: ter Stegen, Jordi Alba, Piqué, Ramos, Alves, Xavi, Iniesta, Busquets, Ronaldinho, Ronaldo (after being forced by Ibai), Messi and Luis Enrique as a Coach (he changed out Ronaldinho for Neymar later)
Luis Enrique doesn't have What's App. If you want to talk to him, you need to send him an SMS
He was nervous when scoring the decisive penalty against Real Betis because the goalkeeper was a giant
Hardest defeat: penalty shootout against Italy (Euros 2020)
He supported Argentina in the WC final (for Leo)
He would like Haaland to sign for Barça (in his words "as a replacement for Lewy because he won't play for us until he's 60") and he also really likes Julían Alvarez (agent Pedri 👀)
His first friend at Barça was Trincāo
A dream: to win the Champions League and the World Cup
Before games, he likes to listen to slow Spanish music (Julio Iglesias? - "Maybe (laughs)")
His favourite singer is Quevedo (everyone act surprised please)
Vitor is only 18 years old, you cannot ask him to be the new Pele, but he has a lot of confidence from the club
He normally always stops for fans but there are always the same 5-6 TikTokers in front of the training ground so he sometimes doesn't stop if it's just them
He is rewatching Prison Break at the moment, even though he's seen it two times already. The first season is the best one in his opinion
He used to watch anime but not anymore
Kounde has the confidence to wear anything
They should listen to the players more because the calendar is so tightly packed right now and there are too many injuries
He would like to score more goals
He found scoring goals strange when he was younger because he never knew how to celebrate and all he did was run and look stupid
Ibai breaks his computer mouse and engineer Pedri tells him to plug it out and in again (Pedri indeed managed to fix it)
Favourite place in Barcelona? - Camp Nou ❤️
Ibai and Pedri played 'Guess these 100 Players' and Pedri guessed 94/100 right (and Pedri realised he doesn't know enough South American players)
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liexki · 8 months ago
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𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐖 + 𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐒 : 𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐎𝐓
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𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: When the first division of TOMAN, Keisuke Baji, passes away, the Commander, Manjiro Sano, take his younger sister, Y/N Baji, in and soon forms a gang in their mid 20s. Now being the leaders of the criminal organization BONTEN and entering the gang scene with a federal bounty on her head, what if love with her No. 2 and a bit of the past resurfaces?? What if there was a little sorrow and betrayal?? Some gang shit in the mix too!?
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: various substances (vapes, weeds, cigarettes, pills, ect.), curse words, mentions of sex work if you squint
“Sanzu, Y/N, respectfully, please calm down on the amount of drugs.” Kakucho said, sitting across from Sanzu. Stubbly looking over to Mikey at the right of him — strangely attending the meeting at the head of the table — asking for approval to question such big figures in the way he did.
TO KEEP READING, YOU UNDERSTAND THE CONTENT WARNING MENTIONED ON THE TOP OF THE SCREEN ARE PRESENT IN THIS POST AND FUTURE EPISODES.
Y/N sent a sharp glare towards despite being on the other head, about a metre away from the number 3. Sanzu gave a cheeky smile that people would relate to the Cheshire cat. His pearly whites showed while Y/N rolled her eyes at the boy’s antics.
“I’ll only stop if I bring Mikey and the princess an issue. I do think Y/N should stop. She’ll age really badly!” He responded to Kakucho while a bit of fake sympathy laced his voice.
“I’ve bought enough for Y/n to not age badly. Great retinols and I’ve even showed her some botox places that were rated well. She gave me the same little pretty glare she’s giving you now.” Ran pitched into the conversation.
“Shut the fuck up Ran no one cares about you and your issues about being an old hag.” Sanzu bites the 31 year old to his side, the banter flowing freely among the trio.
“For once I believe I have to agree with the dunce.” Rindou reluctantly admitted.
“I think we should get back to the main problem right now.” Kokonoi started, “We need to start making connections with different gangs at the moment and we also need to work on our financial issue which is being affected with the substance use from all of you.”
“I don’t do drugs!” Mucho stated in defence of his use.
“You dumbfuck! Substances aren’t just drugs. I’m saying those shitty cigarettes you smoke, the vapes that teens these days use, to edibles or drugs that Y/N and Sanzu are using. They’re all substances and FUCK WE SPEND TO MUCH ON THAT SHIT!” Kokonoi explained with frustration.
“So, all you want is for me to stop using drugs? Well then, I’m out of this then. Mikey, Kakucho, Kokonoi, and Takeomi. Make an event sending regards and invite the top 15 gangs to an event at one of the Haitani's clubs. Ran and Rindou, you guys can decide a club you’re fine with being used.” Y/n ordered.
With a click-clack of her MIU MIU heels, Y/N pushed her chair back and walked out of the room. The sound of her footsteps echoed through the room as Mikey watched her leave. As a small grin decorated his face, entertained by the events. A quiet chuckle left Sanzu’s mouth with the same idea.
✈︎ ˖°ʚ 🐈‍ ɞ·˚ ✩
"You guys know the BONTEN event, right??" Kimiko sat with her legs crossed on top of a table.
"Yeah. One of my workers told me when their number 2 was high." Shu replied taking another hit of his blunt.
"OMG DON'T TELL ME YOU GOT US AN INVITE? KIMI!" Aria squealed with excitement while shaking Kimiko's shoulders rapidly.
"Yes, yes, yes. I was able to get myself on the list and asked the man if I could bring you. I also said that I could provide smokes and shit so Shu, you need to be there with something for about 150 people." Y/n rambled. "Aria, keep on the low though. You're not a present figure."
"Yes ma'am!!" Aria chorused.
Kimiko shot her an annoyed look but secretly felt a sense of happiness.
"What's the deal. Why would they hold an event?" Shu interrogated.
Kimiko didn't know but she had one thing on her mind. Build connections with the gang. The others in the room had a similar idea as well but they'd never admit that. As the leader, she needed to step up.
"BONTEN is uptight so I doubt they'd let anyone know but I'm thinking it's about business."
She glanced over to Shu and he cracked a grin to her gaze.
"Let's take this opportunity to talk to them privately and introduce them to us. Aria, you step down on this one. Me and Shu will do the talking, don't expect this to be free time though. Make sure you study the other people at the event."
Aria nods. Shu focuses.
'Y/N should be wary of who she messes with.' Kimiko thought.
✈︎ ˖°ʚ 🐈‍ ɞ·˚ ✩
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“Hey, Kakucho. Who told that one bitch about our event?” Mochizuki asked him at the VIP section of the bar as they just finished the final few touches of the event.
Kakucho and Kokonoi got confused about what he was talking about. The 2 walked over to try and look at the phone he was holding and Y/N just took a glance from her side across the room.
“I told them.” Y/N said.
“Wasn’t it supposed to be underground?” Kakucho asked, “It kinda makes us look desperate…you know?”
Mochizuki looked at the phone in confusion as everyone was on the same page of this being laid-back and secretly trying to find someone to ally with. Nothing too public. That was indeed not the case though and Y/N had other plans that differed with the group.
“It’s just for a bit of excitement. We haven’t said shit or made any moves in a while. Keeps the people thinking and people might less pussy and actually talk to us.” Y/N explained.
The time had now been 10:45 and the rest of the members were doing their own thing while Mikey looked at you with his cold eyes. He was curious about the way you stood silent and looked at the ground instead of scrolling on your phone as usual.
The B2 tweet really got the people going insane and some envied the groups and those who had come out saying they were going. Your ego was as big as a pool but your cold demeanour covered it up. He thought you’d look at them as a laugh.
“Y/N. Let’s talk outside.” Mikey asked.
✈︎ ˖°ʚ 🐈‍ ɞ·˚ ✩
“LET’S GET THIS PARTY STARTEDDDD!!!!” Sanzu barged in holding a bottle of beer in front of the crowd of gang members who had arrived.
The crowd went insane after seeing the bubblegum crackhead’s words. Rindou was playing DJ that night and the EDM was echoing throughout the speakers set around the building. Girls were sitting on the speakers still looking pretty to attract the gangs and get them to feel themselves.
Mikey watched everyone from the VIP room. The security cameras had 8k quality. The average company could only wish to own the amount of cameras they have. He thought back to the conversation he had with Y/N. Something she had known.
“You have some plan. Something smartass type shit.” Mikey confronted her softly so she wouldn’t feel as if he was enraged.
“Mhm. Wanna know or something?” Y/n questioned back.
Now Mikey was faced with a sense of curiosity. He had trusted Y/N because it was mutual. She’d put her life for him and he’d do the same but they knew they’d never be in that situation. Y/N was smarts enough to cover for both of their hellish lives. Despite this, in that moment that was something that he wanted to question her on.
What Mikey didn’t realise is that Y/N knew his every expression. Even his pitch black eyes that held no emotions was something that didn’t stop her from figuring out how he really felt. His eyes staring into the ground was enough to tell her he was pondering about asking.
“I’m thinking of making small changes so we can catch these big gangs hitting their most vulnerable moments. More girls around to see how they respect women, seeing how they react under the influence of alcohol. It’s small things that set it up.” Y/n clarified.
What she said really had made a difference in how the delinquents around the club and bar were acting. Some were straight hooligans and some had acted like how old friends of his probably would’ve if they still were here.
As Mikey was attentively watching the cameras he soon realised all the members had left the room, he decided to walk out himself and become a little more social.
✈︎ ˖°ʚ 🐈‍ ɞ·˚ ✩
“I guess we have a lot more in common than I thought. Shu Yamaha, correct?” Kokonoi clarified to the man in front of him.
‘Insanely famous for exporting drugs across Hiroshima to Akita. We could use that. His brother’s motor company could be useful but I doubt he still talks to them when he’s doing shit like this.’ Kokonoi thought
“Yes Mr. Kokonoi. I’m glad I was able to talk business with someone in this industry. No one seems to think about the future in our work. All they do is think about throwing fists and updating their body count just to go home and hook up with someone they barely know!” Shu chats to the executive.
“Agreed. You can never know about what comes next but it’s still vital to stick to the present. Time is of the essence, am I right? Most of the people tonight are on wanted lists. Especially BONTEN. The moment this doesn’t work out we won’t be able to get proper jobs without people fearing our past.”
“Of course. I think I’ll be taking my leave.” Shu said
Shu walke away but before he could go too far, Kokonoi walked over behind him and tapped his shoulder.
“Do you mind if I got a business card?”
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Here's the OPENING POST !!
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 : @burntmarshmallowchishiya @anahoyingkawata @yeppeun-riaa @miss-kayy @dystop4in14nd @butyfigers @oreologyx @rukiasluver @Itsruki @bbyspiiice @shoyosdoll @haitanibros0007 @pinksilk @Sunshine768 @itsruki
if you'd like to join the taglist, please fill out this form !! or copy and paste the following link; https://forms.gle/fMnDA3NS4kzp85Kq5
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onceuponaoneshotfanfic · 1 year ago
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Just Wanna Know You Better
Part of my Birthday Bash!
Request:“Are you trying to flirt with me?” “Yes. Is it working?”
Roy Kent x Reader
0.7k words
Warnings: Language, mentions of drinking, Reader is in a 'situationship' with Jamie Tartt (takes place in season 1), pure fluff
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You liked Jamie Tartt well enough. He was good-looking, and famous, and rich, and fun. He made the right jokes and took you to the right places. And you knew that, if you let him, he’d do all the right things in bed. All the things that made up a good fling. But that’s all the gorgeous striker was. A fling. You both knew it and, if you were being honest, you were starting to feel that the fling had flung. So, you didn’t mind too much when, during a post-match celebration he invited you to, you spotted him across the club flirting with another woman. She was pretty and looked bubbly and was positively fawning all over him; she’d probably be a late-night call for him for a couple weeks, you guessed. “Alright there?” Roy Kent had joined you at the bar, gazing down at you with furrowed brows and a frown. You smiled at the midfielder and nodded, taking a sip of your drink. “Dandy,” you replied. “Yourself?” He shrugged and let his eyes flicker to Jamie and the blonde. “He’s a prick, you know that, right?” A laugh rumbled in your chest. “He’s fine,” you assured Roy. “We’re nothing serious. In fact, I was thinking it might be time to call it quits.” You ran your fingers through your hair. “We had a couple laughs, he bought me a few excellent dinners, and I got to enjoy some football. All in all, not a bad experience.” Roy’s chuckle echoed in your ears. “I think you’re officially the coolest woman Tartt’s ever gone out with,” he announced, tapping his drink to yours. That strange compliment became a few light-hearted jokes about Jamie, which became chatting about the books you’d read recently, which became you laughing at the story he decided to tell you about his recent trip to the park with his niece. As you and Roy Kent sat at the bar, you found yourself thinking less and less about Jamie Tartt, and more and more about how bummed you were that your brief time as a Greyhounds fan was ending. “I didn’t even ask, did you enjoy the match?” Roy asked as you caught your breath from giggling so much. His eyes were soft and a tiny grin played on his face; not at all the horrible twat Jamie often complained about. “I did,” you answered. “It was great. Probably the best football match I’ve seen in ages.” He nodded towards the corner where Jamie was officially canoodling with the blonde. “You caught his three goals, yeah? Fucking prick is too good and he knows it.” You nudged Roy. “Actually, I was thinking about you stopping that forward that almost scored towards the end. Probably saved the game, Kent.” His smile grew, something that didn’t happen often enough. “I did have a decent night,” he admitted, a touch of bashfulness and humility in his gruff voice. “Maybe because there’s been a gorgeous woman in the stands lately and I wanted to impress her.” The scoff that came out of your mouth was playful as your eyes sparkled at him in the colorful club lights. “Roy Kent, are you trying to flirt with me?” “Yes,” he said, completely matter of fact. He took a casual swig of his beer. “Is it working?” A blush crept up your neck and settled in your cheeks. All you could do was smile at the man who gazed at you with a mixture of teasing and hope, waiting for you to answer. As if he couldn’t already tell the answer by the shy grin on your face. He leaned close. “Listen,” he finally murmured in your ear. “I know you came to see Tartt tonight, but I was wondering…” He cleared his throat. “Maybe next time, you’ll come to see me?” You turned your head to stare at him, with his raised eyebrows and embarrassed grin. And you suddenly knew that you had to talk to Jamie straight away. Not that he would mind. And you also knew that you should definitely keep that Richmond sweater he’d given you; although you might need a different kit with a different name and number on the back. “Yeah, Kent,” you breathed. “Next time I’ll come to see you.”
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danganronpasurvivoraskblog · 2 months ago
Note
// You know, I'm worried about Eloise's personality, from her FTEs, I feel like there's something hidden inside her...
// Basically I'm scared Eloise will be the next Kanade Otonokoji.
//I do know what you’re talking about by this point, because I did Eloise’s FTE’s, and yeah. The thing is, I think Eden’s Garden are being managed by a team who is kind of tired of all the classical DR tropes, and doesn’t really want to employ them. At least I hope.
//Eloise is definitely my favourite character in Eden’s Garden right now because of how much POTENTIAL she has as a character to develop, either positively, or negatively.
//Just for the sake of protecting the innocent, since this is still early days, and I talked way longer about this than I thought I would, I’m going to hide the rest of this post under a cut in case I spoil something major. But this is my take on Eloise as a character so far:
//It’s true that Eloise is giving me the vibes of early-game Kanade, since she’s ordinarily pretty meek, but when things get serious, she gets strangely…methodical, and driven.
//However, I think we’re leaning more towards how Mikan acted when she underwent her personality shift instead of Kanade. As things currently stand, I can definitely see Eloise going the route that Mikan SHOULD have gone, and that she eventually snaps when being pushed to her limit by some bully.
//The only issue is I don’t really see who could be her victim in this case. The most likely candidate is Grace, but I do actually think she’s going to get some development after this chapter.
//Because yes, I have made it to the body discovery by now. We haven’t done the trial yet, but we will soon.
//And also, Grace is not NEARLY as bad as Hiyoko was to Mikan. She’s just rough around the edges more than anything, and considering she talks about how the golfing industry is far more cutthroat than it seems, especially for a young woman, then it’s less of her being rude, and more treating everyone like a potential enemy and doubting everyone’s intentions. It’s largely why she punched Damon on sight, stoped everyone from investigating Wolfgang’s room, and demanded her blackmail from Eloise in such a vicious way.
//Speaking of Grace’s issues, based on what I saw in Eloise’s FTE’s, my current line of thinking is that she has something similar. And with the way that Eloise and Grace seem to so subtly parallel each other, I feel it makes a lot more sense.
//Unlike Grace, who clearly has to fight for her life to get to where she is, Eloise got to where she was by LITERALLY not having to lift a finger.
//The other members of Eloise’s fencing club were too scared to face off against her. She explains in FTE 3 that in fencing, forfeiting a match counts as a win for your opponent, so basically, the main reason she became the Ultimate Fencer is because people refused to fight her, and she climbed up the ranks that way. Damon even mentions that he would call her skills into question had it not been for the fact that she'd trained with her teacher.
//And then, in the fourth and final FTE, for now at least, she talks about how her family aren’t especially well off, and that’s kind of where we see the not-so innocent and meek side of her.
//Damon tells Eloise that he makes enough money through winning debate competitions that his parents don't really have to work anymore. Eloise is in a similar position with her fencing, but says her sisters are bratty and come off as ungrateful for the life she's giving them, and she's worried about her mother, having to take care of them.
//Damon immediately asks if her mother has a boyfriend or a girlfriend that can help her out, and phrases it that way because Eloise never mentions anything about having a father before. And as Damon pries, this PISSES HER OFF.
//As far as Eloise’s family situation goes, I have no real comments. At least not yet; because it could be almost anything at this point in time. However, based on Eloise’s nature as it’s been shown so far, I do have two lines of thinking:
//The first is that I think she has some sort of anger problems that she's clearly trying to get help for, but Damon has brought them out. That anger caused her to badly hurt someone in a match before, and because of that, everyone else in her club is scared of her. This why she climbed so high in the ranks, because no one wanted to fight her.
//With that said, as unfortunate as it is, there is also a very real possibility of there being a degree of sadism to her character through her actions. In the investigation segment of this chapter, when Grace blocks the door to Wolfgang’s room and prevents anyone from investigating, Eloise very subtly threatens her, and says that she’ll call Tozu to move her if she doesn’t move herself.
//Knowing full well that Grace especially has just been repeatedly abused by Tozu, and is probably terrified of him, even if she doesn’t show it.
//This method works, and you could always say Eloise was angling for the most effective method, but there’s just something so sinister about the way that her dialogue completely changes tone, and how she speaks very directly about it, instead of beating around the bush, or hesitations like she always does.
//Again, I REALLY don’t want that to be the case, but in the instance that it IS like that, then please Eden’s Garden, at least PORTAY it well!
-Mod
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crowandmousewritingco · 7 months ago
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Strange Creature
Pairing: Ezra x trans!reader
Words: 3k
Rating: M (18+ so much smut is happening) No use of Y/N, reader has had top surgery, body worship (reader receiving), reader calls Ezra "sir," pet names, soft dom!Ezra, praise, unprotected sex (wrap it up guys!) oral (Ezra receiving), gender affirmation (reader's genitalia is referred to as: cock, hole), creampie, aftercare.
Summary: After feeling discourage from several bad club experiences, your best friend convinces you to try again which leads to catch the attention of a stranger.
Author: Mod Mouse
Notes: This is an 18+ work so minors DNI. If you continue past the "Keep Reading," just know what you are getting into. This one was actually really fun to write. Ezra is slowly becoming one of my favorites to write.
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Bars were never your thing. They were always too loud and the drinks were always too expensive. Nor did you even have the confidence to go home with anyone. Not that you ever got the chance. Straight bars always meant way too much explaining, and gay bars seemed to never warrant any attraction. 
Though luckily for you your best friend was a persuasive being and convinced you to give the local gay bar another try. You were hesitant at first, but when they gave you money for a drink, you had to say yes.
So there you were leaning against the bar while a fast electronic song played in the background. You were nursing an overpriced Moscow Mule and watching the writhing crowd before you. Everyone seemed to have found their fling for the night, and you sighed feeling like you should call it an early night. 
You took another sip and surveyed the crowd one more time just by some miracle someone had finally noticed you. When no one caught your eye, you let out the breath you were holding and were about to throw back the rest of your drink when you heard a voice say, “And what is a fine creature like yourself doing in such a watering hole?” You jumped and turned to a stranger who approached you while you were deep in thought. 
“Oh um you just taking in the sights,” You reply jestering to the dance floor. 
He turned his attention to the crowd. “Oh the writhing mass of bodies? I don’t blame you. The tribulations of the mating dance is a hard one to master.” 
You chuckled. This man had a unique way of speaking, but he was right. “You can say that again. Apparently I missed the class on flirting because I’ve never gotten far.” 
He raised his eyebrows and leaned against the bar next to you. “You jest. A man of your caliber must be fending off sutors left and right.” 
“Well as much as I hate to tell you, you would be wrong,” You sighed and took the final sip of your drink, setting the cup back on the counter. 
“Their optical lobe must be malformed to not see how handsome you are if you don’t mind me being so forward.” 
You blushed at his words. “That’s quite the compliment for someone you just met.”
He chuckled, “Well I mean every word.” He stood up and held out his hand for you. “Name’s Ezra.” You shook his hand and introduced yourself. Ezra smiled, “Another wonderful aspect about you.” 
You bit your lip and blushed. “So what brings you here to this establishment?” 
Ezra sighed and sat down on one of the bar stools. “Well I did have a date, but they seemed to have found a better option.” 
“That’s their own damn fault.” You frowned. 
Ezra looked over at you. “Do tell,” 
You turned to face him leaning your arm against the bar. “You’re interesting. Definitely different from others I’ve tried to flirt with before.” 
“Different how?” 
You snort “Well you haven’t left yet.” 
“True but that doesn’t seem like a high bar to pass.” 
You sighed “I haven’t told you my secret yet.” 
“Secrets are quite exciting,” He tilts his head. 
“Well I hope you weren’t expecting the whole package.”
Ezra furrowed his brow “What do you mean?” 
You paused and looked out at the crowd. All the people seemed to be different from you and you had to keep yourself from tearing up. “I’m not like them.” 
Ezra turned to look at the crowd, and then back at you. “You’re straight?” 
You chuckled sadly and turned to face him again. “No, quite the opposite. I’m very gay just not the right gay for them.” 
“Darlin’ you are talking in rhymes and riddles.” 
“What I’m trying to say is that well I’m trans,” You confessed and turned away from him hoping to not see the disappointment that’s there everytime you tell someone. 
The silence was loud despite the pulsing music. You felt fingers on your chin pulling your attention back to Ezra. His face was softer than you were expecting. “Have people really stopped acquainting themselves with you when they discover the true essence of your soul?” 
You bit your lip and nodded “You would be surprised with how many men care if I have a real cock or not.” You chuckle darkly. 
“I can understand where the gloom on your soul rests.” He smiled softly. Ezra gazed into your eyes. “It’s a tragedy they don’t see the beauty in you.” 
“You’re just saying that to get in my pants.” You roll your eyes gently. 
“No jesting here.” You were silent and Ezra gently stroked his thumb over your chin. “How about I show you just how handsome you really are.” 
“I would like that a lot,” You blushed. 
Ezra smiled and reached into his pocket and pulled out some bills tossing them on the counter. He takes your hand and carefully leads you out of the noisy environment. He hailed a taxi for you and he opened the door for you when it arrived. You blushed at his gentleness and you slid into the seats. Ezra sat next to you, closing the door behind him. The driver drove off and Ezra gently took his hand in yours rubbing his thumb over your knuckles. 
~~~~~~~~~~~
Ezra’s apartment was a maximalist wonderland. Dark green walls were covered in oddities and strange but beautiful objects. Bookshelves were lined with special additions and decorated pages. You wondered how so many random objects fit together so well. 
“This is stunning.” You whispered, taking it all in. 
“Thank you I try hard to curate a space where I feel comfortable residing in,” Ezra commented. 
“I’ve always wanted to live like this,” You said softly. 
“Would you like to see more?” He asked, gesturing to the hallway. You turned and nodded. Ezra gently took your hand and led you to the bedroom. It was just as beautiful as the living room with the same touch of coordinated chaos. 
“How about you lay down on that bed for me,” Ezra purred, closing the door behind him though he didn’t take his eyes off of your form. His predatory eyes scanned your body up and down taking off your clothes with his eyes. 
You blushed trying not to feel self conscious. Not many men of his stature would even bat an eye at you, but he was the one who approached you earlier. You maintained your eye contact that you subconsciously fidgeted with the hem of your shirt. 
Ever observant Ezra didn’t miss this subtle movement. “Now what has my birdie so nervous?” 
“I-I’m just not used to this sort of thing?” You confess.
He slowly approached and cupped your face in his palm stroking it with the pad of his thumb. “Remember you are in control of this torrid event. If something doesn’t satisfy you or gives you even a modicum of distress in the handsome head of yours, you tell me right away. Pleasure is an enjoyment not an assignment.” 
You bit your lip and looked up at him. You softly nodded your head. Ezra gently kisses your head. “I know words are hard for you at the moment, but I need to hear a verbal agreement birdie. Do you want me to take you like you deserve?” He asked in a voice already laced with need. 
Your eyes bore into his and you whisper, “Yes Sir.” 
Ezra chuckled and moved his hand to grip your chin gently running his thumb over your plump lip. “Sir? Well ain’t that a symphony to my ears. Then we must keep this concerto going. How about you take off what you are comfortable with, sweetheart.” 
“Y-Yes sir,” You replied and stood up to obey his command. Ezra moved to the bed and sat down for a better view of the show. You stood between his legs to make sure he could see everything as you slowly unbutton your shirt starting from the bottom. Your fingers gradually unbutton each clasp exposing more and more of your body. 
Ezra kept a predatory eye on you taking in your handsome form. “Such a handsome man in front of me right now,” He licked his lips as you took off your shirt. His hands hover over your hips and he looks up at you waiting for permission. You nodded and he gently caressed your sides. 
“Mmmmmm,” He hummed and gently kissed your soft stomach. Your eyes fluttered as his soft touches made butterflies flutter in your core. Ezra kissed his way up your torso and planted a soft kiss on the top of your scars. He pulls back to look up at you and gently caresses the scar tissue with his thumbs. “The marks of a warrior.” He whispered and continued worshiping your chest. 
Your breath caught in your throat and you felt tears welling up in your eyes. Not out of sadness, but this was the first time anyone had said such words to you. 
Ezra looked and stood up gently cupping your cheeks pulling your gaze to his hazel eyes. “You are a magnificent creature who deserves pleasure and devotion just as any other cis person.” 
You smiled and placed your hand on his. “Thank you,” 
Ezra kissed your forehead and placed his forehead against yours. “Of course birdie.” 
You let yourself stay pressed against Ezra for a bit just enjoying the company of these new acquaintances. “Can I give you head?” You asked softly. 
Ezra blinked a few times and smiled, “Well how am I to say no to such a nicely requested wish.” He sat back down on the bed and gently pulled you forward. You got on your knees in front of him and Ezra pulled his pants down his hard cock springing up. 
You hummed at the size and you felt yourself growing harder. Gently you grasped his dick to steady it and lapped at the head testing the waters. You gazed up at Ezra and he tangled his fingers in your hair giving you a soft command. You took a deep breath and slowly took him into your mouth hollowing out your cheeks as he slid down your throat. Tears formed in your eyes but you loved the feeling. 
Ezra moaned and gripped your hair a bit tighter. “You have a heavenly mouth birdie. Those others are missing out.” You moan at your words and slowly bobbed your head up and down. You kept a steady pace making sure your tongue swirled around the veins and head. Ezra moaned as you took him over and over again. 
“You have a talented tongue,” He panted, tangling his fingers in your hair. “Every lick is a divine, gem.” 
You looked up at him through your eyelashes making sure he seems just how good he’s making you feel. A soft tear ran down your cheek and Ezra gently wiped it away. The gesture gave you some courage and you started to speed up your motions. You wanted all of him and you wanted it now. The taste of precum spurred you on even more and your licks became more frantic. 
“Slow down a bit there birdie,” He coos as he gently pulls your head back off of his cock. You pant silva dribbling down your chin. He looked down at your lust filled eyes with his own equally darkened eyes. “If you keep that pace up you're gonna make me spill. Between the two of us I much rather see my seed spill from that pretty hole of yours.”
You whimpered softly and nodded. “I want you deep inside of my hole Sir.”
“Then inside you it shall be,” He moaned as he helped you to your feet. One hand ran up and down your leg while the other unbuckled your pants. Gently he pulled them and your underwear down to the floor and you stepped out of them. Ezra groaned at the sight of you. You were glistening and so hard already. 
“I’ve had delicacies at many fine restaurants over the course of my life, but I have a feeling your cock will be the most divine out of all of them.” He praised spreading your legs with his hand. Gently he palmed his hand against you and you moaned. His hand was big enough where he could rub your cock and tease your hole with his finger. 
“Oh fuck Ezra,” You moaned as you ground you hips against his hand. 
“Does my touch alone make you see stars, my gem?” He asked, smirking delighted at your reaction. 
You nod as he dives a finger into you moving his whole hand as he made sure you were feeling everything he was giving you. Even this simple movement was making you come undone and god did you want so much more of him. “Please Sir.” You moaned. 
“Mmmmm what would you like, birdie?” He asked, not taking his eyes off of your cock. 
“Please I want you to fuck me,” You moaned and Ezra slips in another finger making you gasp. You steady yourself with your hands on your shoulder as you feel him loosen you up. 
“Just a bit longer, gem. I wanna make sure that your hole can adequately take me.” He replied gently, kissing your stomach as he thrusted his fingers into you faster. You moaned and wrapped your arms around his head leaning over compassing his head with your torso. 
“That’s it birdie good boy,” He purred as he felt you clench against your fingers. After a few more thrusts he pulled his fingers out of you. You whimpered, missing the feeling. You unfurled your body and looked down at him pouting. But that pout quickly changed to a moan when Ezra began to lick his wet fingers. He hummed as he took in your sweet flavor. “I was right. That was better than any expensive dessert any chef could make.” 
You blushed at his praise. “Thank you sir.” Once he was finished with his sweet treat, he stood up from the bed switching positions with you. “Now how would my good boy like to be taken tonight. You’ve been so good for me tonight, you get to choose how your hole will be filled.” 
You bit your lip taking some time to think about how you would like Ezra to take you. Finally you met his gaze and stated, “I wanna see your face when you cum inside me.” 
Ezra groaned at your reply. “And I want to see your expression as my cum leaks out of you. Now on the bed birdie,” He softly commanded and you were quick to obey. 
You laid down on your back and spread your legs eager for Ezra to be in between them. Ezra quickly followed suit, kneeling between your thighs. Gently he slid his hands under your thighs and pulled your hips to meet his. Keeping one hand on your hip, he took the other hand and guided his cock up and down your slit moaning at the feeling of his cock touching yours. You whimpered softly when he finally rubbed the head against your hole. As gently as he could, he slipped inside of you with a moan. 
You weren’t much better. He felt so nice inside you filling you just the way you needed. Soon you felt his hips press against yours as he bottomed out. Ezra leaned down to kiss you, giving you time to adjust to his cock. He murmured sweet encouragements making you clench around him with just his words. 
Finally you gave him a small nod indicating you were ready for him to move. Ezra pressed his forehead against yours as he slowly thrusted into you. With each movement you moaned feeling every inch of him pull out and quickly thrust back inside of your hole. 
“Fuck Ezra just like that,” You moaned as he brushed a particularly sensitive part inside you. 
“You feel amazing, just oh so perfect,” Ezra blubbered as if he couldn’t keep his praise inside of him. He continued his thrusting and his praise making the familiar coil of pleasure build in your belly. 
“Ezra please sir I’m getting close,” You moaned into his neck as your hands tangled in his hair lightly pulling it as your orgasm was quickly approaching. 
“Then cum for me my handsome gem. Show me how good I feel inside you,” He commanded as he twitched inside of you. A few more thrusts on your sensitive spots made you clench hard and your legs shook as the band in your stomach snapped and you came hard around his cock. Your legs closed around him keeping him inside you. That was the last straw Ezra needed and just like he had promised he came deep inside you with a grunt. You felt his cum fill you up and drip on the sheets below you. 
The two of you stayed connected as you both came down from your high. Ezra gently kissed you to ground him back to this planet. He finally pulled out of you and you whimpered at the touch of overstimulation. Ezra kissed your forehead gently, shushing you as he went to the bathroom to grab a washcloth. Careful of your sensitive bit, he cleaned you up making sure to kiss you as he did so. You smiled tiredly, thankful for the tenderness that Ezra was giving you. Once he was finished he took the washcloth back to the bathroom and quickly returned to your side. He slid in beside you and quickly wrapped you in his arms.
You purred as the warmth his grasp gave you. The two of you were quiet for a while before Ezra spoke, “You really are a handsome fellow.” 
You sat up a little and gently cupped his cheek in your hand. “Thank you. You really don’t know how much tonight meant to me.” You trace your finger down his chest. 
“I’m glad my love could help you gem.” Ezra smiled and kissed your cheek. “If you are so inclined, I wouldn’t mind finding you in my bed again sooner rather than later.” 
You blushed and smiled softly. “I would very much like that as well.” 
Ezra returned your smile and you kissed him gently into the night. Maybe nightclubs were your thing after all.
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Pedro Character Taglist
@littlemisspascal @burntheedges @carusolikey
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