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caramelkoo · 2 months ago

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be still my heart — jjk [two]

the one in which Jungkook lets his imagination run wild and you confront Jimin about your past.

genre : childhood best friends to enemies to lovers, physical therapist!reader x hockey player!jungkook, slow burn, smut, fluff, angst

word count : 5.1k

chapter warnings : strong language, kissing, jungkook is again nervous around Destiny. That's it i guess lmk if i missed anything.

a/n : ohmygod the first part got so much love i just couldn't wait to post this. This one is a bit intense. I love my babiest baby jungkook so much. Please enjoy my lovely people and remember you're so loved :> feel free to send asks. kisses.

Jungkook

During Jungkook’s college days, there was a guy named Oscar who’d sit beside him in class with his round glasses resting on his face. He would bunk classes almost every day which led the ever so curious Jungkook to follow him one day in order to find out what’s so special that he’s even willing to bunk classes for? Listen, the nerdy Jungkook thought bunking classes is bad manners. Don’t come at him.

Eventually, he found himself watching Oscar playing the guitar inside the vacant auditorium and he can swear he’s heard nothing more melodic than that. He figured the guy escaped so he could do what he loves. It was his passion.

If someone were to ask him, what’s his passion? Jungkook would say, Hockey. It pumps him up, it brings him back to life. He was born to do this.

He has seen his older brother playing hockey for as long as he can remember but trying the sport for himself? That never came to him, until his brother thought handing out a hockey stick to a 15 year old would be funny.

Newsflash, it wasn’t funny and as much as he doesn’t want to, Jungkook has no option than to give him the credit for him being here. It’s only right. The moment he held that hockey stick it was like the clouds parted and angels started singing.

This life right here is something he has built with hours and hours of practice, diet, diligence and working himself out until he’s a sweaty mess.

It’s not like every other 28 year old’s life, it’s different as well as demanding but every other 28 year old is also not being thrown into the penalty box like him right?

On a good day he would even call himself a conflict-avoidant guy until it comes to his teammates. Then, he’s an animal, ready to tear down every motherfucker who dares to touch them. Dramatic? he doesn't think so.

Yes, they piss him off but they’re a team, it’s a unified responsibility that they have. You stop at nothing to protect your own. The spark of defensiveness is bound to come to the surface given he's the defenseman of the team.

This is why he’s in here, trapped behind this glass shield as he watches the guys do their worst performance till date. The forward of the opposite team tried to get a fight started making Jungkook see red. His instincts led him to act immediately. He had to do something to put an end to it and breaking the guy’s nose seemed like a nice option.

The lions are not an easy team to play with, they’re hard hitters and show no mercy. That’s what coach has been telling them ever since they landed here. Seems like nobody listened. Fuckers.

Sweat drips from his hair as he watches the game, ears filling up with screams behind him.

“Jeon Jungkook I’ll have your babies”

“Jungkook you’re so hot it makes me insane”

“Oh god this man will be my death”

“He can slap me and I’ll thank him”

God help him. The thing is, the shitshow before him is not the only reason behind him being a mess today. Destiny has been… weird lately. At the risk of sounding like a goner, she’s not acknowledging him at all, like at all.

She used to grab the seat in front of him on the plane whenever the team flew for the games but this time she didn’t so much as look at the poor guy let alone sitting before him. Is she hurt because of last time? Did he fuck up again? This proclivity of fumbling every time he’s around her needs to be checked.

“Dude, we couldn’t have held a candle to them.” says Taehyung.

Ah yes, the guys lost the game if it wasn’t predictable enough and now the coach will have their heads on a platter ready to serve. Well, he doesn't want to do that any more than Jungkook himself does.

Jungkook gets rid of his shin pads, placing them on the bench. “Try saying that in front of coach”

“He’ll understand”

Yoongi glares at him, “The fuck he will. He’s been in our faces telling us how wild it might be over there. Who listened? Because you sure not did, Tae”

Taehyung chuckles in disbelief, propping his hands on his waist. “Dude, you’re targeting me as if I was the one breaking noses and all.”

He gives Jungkook a side eye. Oh he’s so gonna get Tae later.

“You might as well have. And as for you,” he glances at Jungkook, "I'll just hope you come back in one piece."

“Alright, cut it out” Namjoon says as he slips into his practice jersey. That’s so like him. Heading straight for practice after a big game, whether or not they win.

He’s one of the most dedicated people Jungkook has ever seen and you can’t generally get a praise out of him like this.

He blocks out their bickering and focuses on getting out of his hockey pants. A sharp pain shoots up in his knee making him cringe. That’s strange. He doesn’t remember his knee getting involved in the ruckus. Anyway, he makes a mental note of letting Destiny know about it and not repeat the same douchebaggery.

“Hey bud, you doing okay?” Namjoon asks as he’s rubbing the painful spot.

He looks up, “Yeah it’s… it’s just a slight pain. Might be a cramp for all I know”

He pats Jungkook’s shoulder in support, a kind smile plastered on his face. “I hope so and hey, don’t be picking fights like that anymore. You understand?”

Jungkook is quick to defend himself. “But that asshole–”

“I know,” he nods, “Just be careful. That’s all I’m saying. Let it be your last.”

He gives up, nodding his head. “Yeah. I’ll resist”

Namjoon is right. Jungkook did not pick a fight and he knows it. He also knows that Jungkook is always ready to come at his players’ defense, however that might be.

After all, it all boils down to a nasty fight on the rink which is nothing to be surprised about. There have been plenty of fights down here, some resulting in broken limbs and some going as far as a person on a stretcher.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚

Nightclubs are hands down Jungkook’s least favorite spot ever. He hates the smell, he hates the crowd and he hates how loud everything gets. If it weren’t for Yoongi, he would be at home chilling or overthinking. No one can tell.

Although, he’s not sure if he can even call that four walled room his ‘home’. It’s not home, it’s just a place he was given to stay at when he joined the federation and while he’s more than grateful for it, an empty, emotionless space where he only exists in can’t be qualified as a home.

However, he can’t stop wanting a place which is only his. A place he can share with someone he loves, wakeup next to her, cook with her, make memories with her. A home overflowing with laughter and giggles only.

Clearly, that murky ass house can never live up to that expectation not when it consists of a bathroom smaller than his fist, a bedroom which can’t fit more than 3 people at once and a kitchen he, for some reason, can’t get himself to cook in. He believes someday he’ll have that albeit the wait.

“Do you think I’m joking?” Taehyung’s voice is louder than ever before because of the surroundings. Sitting beside Namjoon as his hands fist a glass of old fashioned, he acts like he just spilled the most expensive beans.

He dramatically places one hand on his chest and turns to Jungkook, “Dude, tell him. Tell him how I got my dick pierced last week”

A chuckle leaves him, “Better yet, you can lose those pants and give him a live show”

The guys break out in fits of laughter.

“Don’t act like you haven’t seen my dick already, you twat. I did it for my girlfriend alright? Was this close to tattooing her name too but didn’t,” he holds up his thumb and forefinger to show how much,

“I don’t want my guy to swell and look like I accidentally got it stuck between a door or something.”

From his peripheral vision, Jungkook spots Destiny walking up to them looking like an absolute goddess. She’s wearing a shoulder strapped bodycon dress tonight with her hair curled in such a way that it makes her face look more feminine. He has seen so much of her in those scrubs that she’s doing things to him now. Hold your damn horses, Jungkook.

The poor guy can’t so much as look at her for too long or he’ll get hard. That’s something he can’t allow himself to do right here when all his friends are gathered. They’re never gonna let him live that down.

Maybe, when he’s alone he can fuck his hand with the thoughts of her taking him into that sweet mouth she’s got a bold red lipstick look going on. His cheeks turn crimson and he fights back a smile.

“Hey, guys” she greets them as she tucks a hair strand behind her ear. A gold hoop adorning her. God, she’s trying to kill him. She's like Jungkook’s own version of heaven.

The guys all smile up at her like she just asked them to give her a foot massage. Meanwhile, her eyes never land on Jungkook.

“Jimin, can I steal you for a second?” she hesitates.

“Sure” Jimin places down his drink and stands up. He walks up to her and rests his hand at the small of her back making Jungkook’s smile drop. Nice, he's getting jealous over a kind gesture now. Next thing you know, he'll be ending anyone who dares to breathe in her direction.

Namjoon shakes his head as he follows them both with his gaze. “Am I the only one who thinks they’re fucking?”

Yoongi dissolves into laughter while Taehyung spits out his drink. Almost. Jungkook? He finds nothing funny about it but refrains himself from saying something stupid in the heat of the moment.

“There’s some tension, yes. Can’t say anything about the fucking part though” says Yoongi.

“What do you think?”

“What?”

“Do you think they’re shagging?” asks Taehyung in a hushed voice.

“I think you assholes need therapy” With that he rests his own glass of drink on the table and walks away. Their voices calling out to him become more and more faint as he goes on.

He needs to find out what is it that gave rise to this sudden change in Destiny and if he’s the reason for it. His stomach churns as soon as the thought of her having something going with Jimin crosses his mind.

The guys were joking back there and given their proclivity of joking around, he takes their statements with a grain of salt. Howbeit, he can’t help but wonder the same.

The worst thing of all is he doesn’t have any right to feel this way. She’s not his and she might never be for all he knows. So maybe this is for the best, maybe if she keeps on discounting him like this, it would be slightly easier to forget her. Right?

˚୨୧⋆｡˚

Destiny

“What do you think you’re doing? This is a men's bathroom?” A guy who must be in his early twenties nearly pokes his finger in Jimin’s eyes. His gaze darts over to you as he gives you a disgusted look.

Jimin levels him with an intimidating glare, “Why don’t you mind your own damn business and we’ll be good. Yeah?”

He flashes you another appalling look, his nose flaring before he walks out. For a second you might even endorse with the guy but in your own defense, the club is buzzing with commotion and there was not a single space Jimin and you found where you both could have a proper conversation without anyone bumping into you. You spent quite the money on this dress and it'd be bummer to ruin it. It’s insane how crowded it is. So, here you are.

Jimin turns to you, his fingers still laced through yours for the sake of your safety. “I’m sorry for that”

You snatch your hand back. “No it’s totally fine. I mean it’s not usual for a guy to bring a woman in here” an awkward chuckles leaves you.

“It is”

Your smile drops, “Huh?”

“They do bring women in here. Well, let’s just say they do everything except have a talk”

Of course they do. God, this is more awkward than you imagined it would to be. You could die of embarrassment right now but if you don’t clear things up with him, it would be more humiliating to simply exist around him. You roll your shoulders back, plucking up enough courage.

“Let’s discuss the elephant in the room, shall we?”

He steps closer to you, just enough to catch you off guard but not enough to knock the breath out of your chest. There is someone else who's been doing that job lately.

“What elephant Destiny? The one about us having the best time together or how you left me the next morning? Alone and pathetic” he demands.

Well, knock me down with a feather.

Your mouth parts in shock, “I left you? You sneaked out, Jimin and you know it”

You wonder if he’s gonna come clean about that. If he’s gonna stop blaming you and take accountability for once. You guys did have the best time together and as short lived as it was, you regret nothing about that night until this point.

Now that he stands in front of you, accusing you of being so cowardly that you dared to leave him, it makes you question your own integrity.

He takes another step forward, automatically making you take one back as he searches your face. “So where were you when I woke up? Where were you when I reached my hand out and didn’t find you lying next to me, huh?” his voice barely a whisper.

Enough. You wouldn’t have bothered to stop the scream that’s begging to leave you had someone pointed a gun at your head. A gal can only take so much before she snaps.

“I WAS OUT THERE SEARCHING FOR MORNING AFTER PILLS”

The vacant bathroom echoes with your own words. The words you were holding back from saying out loud.

“I went in search of those, Jimin. Apparently, that’s what you’re supposed to do when you fuck each other and not take necessary precautions”

He stills, backing off as if you had slapped him. A heavy silence hangs in the air around you.

Jimin’s eyes flash with barely contained astonishment as he looks around trying to find words. When he doesn’t say anything, you take it as an opportunity to continue.

“You weren’t lying about us having a great time together. I accept that, we did have fun and I don’t regret it which honestly, I’m not so sure of now.”

A quick look of hurt passes through his face before he recovers.

“I was planning on staying back too oh… how badly I wanted to stay back but you have to understand that I was also at the prime of my career as a professional physical therapist. I couldn’t afford having a child, Jimin. Back then even the thought scared me. So, I left for a while, mentally promising you to come back. You were sleeping so soundly and you looked so beautiful and I didn’t want to disturb you—”

Your words come to an abrupt halt as he takes a long step towards you, backing you up against the white wall behind.

It’s not the same, your chest is not rising and falling rapidly like it did back then. Gosh, you couldn’t even speak in front of him. This time you’re immune to his eyes, his closeness and his warmth. Is this what they call healing?

“You should have” his brown eyes flash with hunger, “You should have disturbed me, Destiny. I would have woken up, ate you out, maybe fucked you again while wearing a condom, cuddled you and then accompanied you to the medical store.”

Oh fuck no, this is not happening. You’re not getting yourself back into this situation where he charms you with his mere words and leaves you cold. You deserve better than that.

You push him back with your palms on his chest, “Maybe, but I think I wouldn't have it any other way,”

You look straight into his eyes and nowhere else to make him feel how serious you are, leaving no room for uncertainty.

“Bella, my assistant, keeps saying that everything happens for a reason. It’s written up there," you point your forefinger up, "I feel the same about what went down with us. There was a reason why you left, there was a reason behind me not bothering to wake you up."

A bitter chuckle slips through your mouth, “Although, I can’t seem to grasp why the hell are you here?”

The way your heart is beating inside your chest, you might end up on a ventilator. It’s because you haven’t had much control of anything in your life, this feels particularly massive. This is one way for you to take back control, because it’s your choice and yours alone.

You try not to let the tears spill, “I asked you to spare me a few minutes just so I could talk to you about it but this isn’t how I imagined this conversation to go, Jimin. Regardless of that, I need you to do me a favor”

He holds your gaze. “What favor?”

You clear your burning throat, “I’m requesting you to please not initiate any conversation about our past with any of the guys. That could pretty much cost me my job and yours.”

He offers you a stern nod, “You have my word”

With that you turn and walk around just like you always do and always should when it’s time. Only this time, you don’t feel victorious. Instead, the feeling of utter shock rushes through your body because standing outside is the only person you had been avoiding to say the least.

You flinch. “Jungkook?”

He’s leaning back against the cold wall with his hands inside his front pockets, head hanging low. You can’t make his face out because of the darkness.

He frantically lifts up his head when he hears you calling, looking as surprised as you, “Hey, I— wait, why are you coming out of the men’s room?”

You shift on your feet, folding your hands in front of you. “What? OH !! Well, I had some business with Jimin and this felt like a nice place to.. you know”

You can’t talk for the life of you. How do you explain yourself to him without word vomiting? But then you think better of it and just shake your head.

“You know what? Never mind that. What about you? Why are you standing here like someone just broke your heart?”

No fucking way did you just say that. What is this? A bollywood movie? You immediately feel like you hit a nerve when his face falls, causing you to curse yourself.

He’s silent for a moment before he stands up straight. “You could say that”

“Wait, really?”

Yet again you’re struggling to breathe, a spark of curiosity threatening to rise up. Why do you care about his heart? He’s been all but rude to you every day since you’ve begun working by his side so why would you care if someone put his bloody heart in a blender? You have been assigned to take care of his body, what happens unrelated to that is none of your business.

Except, you do. There is a teeny tiny part of you that cares. Though, you can’t say if it’s the doctor inside of you or something else. Something which could ruin you and save you all at once.

“Who is it?” you ask in a small voice.

His eyes rank behind you and he pulls you close to him by grabbing your arm. You see a man passing by, faltering on his own under the influence of probably the sheer amount of alcohol inside him.

When you look up, you have to swallow a gasp. Jungkook’s face is so close to you, you can almost count his moles. The one under his lips is begging to be kissed and you hold yourself back from grabbing him by his jacket as you kiss the hell out of him.

Wait what?!

He looks down at you, his eyes burning with something you can’t pinpoint. It’s like a mixture of anger and adoration. Soft lips brush your temples as your heart beats out of your chest.

“It’s not safe here. Why don’t you go join Bella? If I break another nose it’ll cost me good”

You lean back, still in his arms. It would be nice if you get out of his hold. You should shove him away too exactly like you did with Jimin but for some reason, you can’t. His hold is safe, cozy. It reminds you of your grandmas cookie recipe. Warm and lovely.

“Another nose? Did you get into a fight?”

He breaks away, turning his back to you but you clutch his forearm as you hold him back before he can bolt.

“You know the PR is gonna make your life a living hell. What did you do?”

His jaw sets instinctively as he looks at you for a moment before speaking.

“Destiny, if you don’t want me kissing that sweet mouth of yours and imprint my name on it for once and for all, get the fuck out of here.” he rasps.

That's it. Flashbacks of that night and that fucking dream consume you. It doesn't help at all that he looks so dashing tonight in all black. Black leather jacket, black pants and his black boots. You're having visions you shouldn't have. They're nice. Farfetched but nice, nonetheless.

You release his hand like it will set you have you combust if you keep holding onto it for even a moment longer. You turn around, with the intent of getting out of his proximity when his voice stops you.

“Destiny”

You don’t turn around because something is telling you if you do, you will never be the same.

“My life turned into a living hell the moment you stopped looking at me”

˚୨୧⋆｡˚

Jungkook

Jungkook is dying.

Figuratively, of course.

He should have taken Destiny seriously when she said that the PR is going to make his life miserable once he gets to know about the mess he had made. His phone is buzzing on the kitchen counter. He knows who it is but he doesn’t pick up.

Instead, he just waits until it stops ringing. Jungkook can see it all playing out in his head. He will be called to the PR’s office as soon as he enters the academy and the PR is gonna ask him why he did what he did, Jungkook will then tell him that he's a a man of virtue, he will ask him to repent and tell him to fuck off. Very classic. Been there, done that.

He drops his head low, palms splayed in front of him. Calling last night chaotic would be an understatement. He said things he shouldn’t have and heard things he hoped he wouldn’t. It was not deliberate, of course. He would like to call it a spur of the moment.

Alright, he was fucking jealous. There he said it. He was jealous of Park Jimin because that man was touching who Jungkook had been longing for, he was talking to the women Jungkook had been begging to look at him once and allow him to breathe.

When he reaches the academy, he quickly asks about Destiny’s whereabouts and goes on to find her. He thinks his knee needs to be discussed because he can’t risk not playing the next game.

He's not sure if he's prepared for the uneasiness that's about to welcome itself but– god if you’re listening, help him, he prepares himself as much as he possibly can.

Raising his hand to make a fist, he knocks on her office door. This would be his first time inside, if she would even let him in.

“Come in” her voice reaches Jungkook.

He takes a long deep breath and pushes the door wide open. Stepping inside he looks at her sitting in her chair with glasses resting on top of her button nose. She looks so adorable. He doesn’t think he has ever seen her with glasses on but he approves.

“Jungkook? Is everything okay?”

Is it? Why is she acting like everything about last night was a dream? Did I imagine it all? Jungkook wonders.

He slips his hands inside his front pockets and nods, “My knee is acting a bit weird. I wanted to get it checked. See if there’s anything serious.”

She takes her glasses off and rises to her feet. Pointing to one of the chairs, she says, “Sit down and let me have a look”

He does what she asked as he leans back to make himself comfortable. An eerie silence surrounds them, making every inch of Jungkook's body stiff as he grips the armrests of the chair a bit tighter. He doesn’t let it appear that way of course. He’d rather die.

When she’s satisfied, she gets down on her knees and looks up at him. The visual is lethal but not something which he hasn’t already imagined.

He's not entirely proud to say that he has had the privilege of seeing her on her knees in his dreams, in the darkness of his bathroom, in his fantasies. He's seen it all but the real sight nearly makes him blow his load.

What do you think happens to a man who witnesses a queen getting down on her knees for him? Ask Jungkook. Mentally thanking himself for not wearing the sweatpants, he prepares to answer any of her questions.

“Do you wanna tell me what caused this?”

“There um, there was a fight back at the game. I felt a slight pain in the changing room but didn’t think much of it. Thought I’d let you know about it.”

She smiles, “Well I’m proud of you for that minus the fighting part. I’m sure you’ll be discussing that in the PR’s office”

As she’s examining any possible pulls or cracks, he thinks about apologizing to her about last night. To be very honest, he's tired of this awkward silence every time he's around her. Not talking is one thing, walking on eggshells around each other is another. He wants her to behave the same way she does with the rest of the boys.

“Destiny, I needed to talk to you about something”

She looks up again, her eyes filled with curiosity.

“Sure. Was something else hurt during the fight?”

“What? No. I wanted to talk about last night”

She stiffens as her mouth forms an ‘O’ shape. Fuck, why is his heart beating so fast? Wait, is he sweating?

Then she shrugs, talking in a casual tone. “I don’t think it’s worth talking about”

“Why?” Jungkook can’t help but ask.

“Well,” she smiles but it doesn’t reach her eyes, “You and I both were drunk and people do stupid stuff when they’re drunk so.”

“There was not a single drop of alcohol in my system. However, whatever I said was in the spur of the moment.” he says wording his previous thoughts, “I shouldn’t have talked to you like that. I’m sorry”

She’s quiet for a moment before she lowers her head and mumbles something.

“WellIhadasexdreamaboutyousoweareeveniguess”

He lowers down his own head, trying to listen clearly, ‘What was that?”

“I said I had a sex dream about you so we’re even” as soon as the words slip out of her, she claps a hand over her mouth. Her eyes wide as saucers. Meanwhile, he just sits there wondering if he heard her right or his brain is as fucked as his knee.

His mouth goes dry as he keeps looking at her. He feels like someone just dumped a bucket full of ice water on his head. She had a sex dream about him? When? How was it?

“It was uh okay”

Kill him, kill him now because he said that out loud. See, this is what he means when he says he messes up every time he's in front of her. That’s exactly what the last thought that crosses his head before he pulls her by the back of her neck and smashes his lips on hers. Fuck it, he can’t take it anymore.

When she kisses him with the same amount of passion and hunger, he resists himself from hoisting her up on the table and eating her sweet cunt. She matches every movement of his lips. Hers suck his before his take her pink and pillowy ones.

Within seconds, he has her caged in his arms. A low moan slips past her lips as she clutches onto Jungkook's shoulders for support, his fingers digging into the sides of her waist. Is this what feels like to kiss Kim Destiny? Is he actually touching and tasting her?

She tastes like cherries and bubblegum and he swears he's tasted nothing sweeter. He wants to have this taste every day on his tongue, and wants to remember it till the day he takes his last breath. Maybe, even longer than that.

He pulls back and cups her cheek, running his thumb along her lower lip as she catches her breath. She’s got her eyes closed, her chest rising and falling against his. Jungkook can feel her hard nipples through her scrubs.

Someone shakes him by the shoulders and he snaps out, blinking rapidly. He looks around and finds himself sitting on the very chair Destiny asked him to but when a feminine voice calls out his name, it's not hers.

“Well, watching my best friend on her knees in front of my step brother was not the visual I thought I needed”

Turns out, it takes a lot to make that someone up there 'happy' because standing in front of him is his only step sister. It's hilarious how unpredictable life happens to be. After all, not only did he imagine kissing Destiny after she told him about her little sex dream but will now have to figure out how to face his sister without wanting to hurl himself out the window.

Can he catch a break?

Taglist - @keylime4eva @xumyboo @jash719 @dmstoyangyang @pitchblack0309 @withluvjm @chaelvrx @httpjeonlicious @lovingkoalaface @rpwprpwprpwprw (ilusm and thank you for reading <3)

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justmeinadaze · 10 months ago

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Don't Be So Hard (Steddie X Plus Size You)

"Don't be so hard on yourself The name of the game is humiliation, And thanks for your admiration. I never thought I'd say this: The way that we play has its confrontation, And guilt by association."

A/N: New version of these beings for me to try out. Thank you @bimbobaggins69 for the idea by just being amazing <3.

This take place 10 years after events in season 4 so about 1996.

Warnings: Older Dom (30s) Coach Steve Harrington/Older Dom (30s) Professor Eddie Munson & Young (20s) Fem Plus size Sub Student Y/N (whew! That's a mouth full lol), SMUT, spanking, choking, degrading, voyeurism, use of sir, FLUFF, Eddie and Steve have an established relationship. ANGST (because I'm me), reader is plus size and gets name called by the jocks (they call her names like piggy), one of them does assault her (pushes her and yells at her; brief), Steddie saves the day, mentions of reader staring in a play that makes her anxious due to her body.

This whole dynamic is technically angsty (which is why I love it muahaha).

Word Count: 8679

“I fucking hate schools.”, you grumble under your breath as you hit snooze on your alarm for the fifth time that morning. The beginning of your junior year spring semester at Hawkins University started today but the idea of getting out of bed sounded exhausting. In Hawkins, everyone was in everyone else’s business and being the bigger girl some of the jocks felt the need to butt in more than anyone else.

“Hey Y/N. Did you put on more weight this summer? Those jeans look like they’re about to pop!”

“Should you be eating that, piggy? Maybe try a salad every now and then.”

You thought when you left high school, you wouldn’t have to deal with this crap anymore but unfortunately some of it followed you to college.

When you finally made it to your first class it was right before it began so you could avoid any unwanted conversation. You weren’t so lucky.

“Heeeeeeey, Y/N.”, football star Martin Click cooed obnoxiously as he leaned towards you from his seat above yours. “I was hoping we’d have some classes together, piggy. I missed you over the summer. You couldn’t bother to dress up for me?”

“Oh, sorry Martin, if I had known we would be sharing a class I would have made myself uglier but unfortunately for me that’s impossible since I’m so fucking sexy. Maybe you can tutor me on how to be a sloppy asshole.”

The breathy laugh that echoed to your ears caught you off guard as you glanced up towards the front of the classroom and met the chocolate eyes of your new Literature & Writing professor.

“I’m sorry.”, you whisper as red paints your face.

“No, no. No reason to be sorry. I thought it was a good comeback.”, he grinned making you blush even more. “Mr. Click, should I tell Coach Harrington that you’re more focused on ladies attire than my class or are we going to behave this semester?”

Rolling his eyes, Martin leaned back in his chair making the professor smugly smirk as he winked in your direction.

“As I’m sure ya’ll are aware, I’m professor Munson and if you’re here because of my reputation then I will kindly ask you to leave. I’m not here to talk about my past or my family history.”

You had heard rumors about Eddie Munson and of course knew all about him being on the run back when you were little. You parents never let you leave the house or play outside for fear that the “satanic Hawkins killer” would snatch you up and make you his next victim. As you grew up and read more about what happened, it seemed less to you like he did anything at all and obviously the chief agreed because Mr. Munson was never tried or did any prison time.

No, you weren’t interested in his past. You were interested in the things he could teach you. After overhearing one of his lectures, you were fascinated with the way he told a story and explained the material. He got so animated to an adorable degree and as a theater major you thought it would be fun to see how he interpreted literature while getting the final English credit you needed.

When no one moved he smiled and began talking about usual first day things such as the syllabus and what to expect over the semester. After the class had ended and everyone left, you stayed behind and quietly made your way to his desk.

“Hey, um, I’m sorry if I was rude or—”

“I didn’t think you were rude. If anything, he was and definitely needed to be put in his place.”, he interrupted without looking your way as he sorted through papers in front of him. “You’re Y/N, right?”

“Yes, sir. Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen some of the plays you were in on campus here. I dragged my friend to see A Midsummer Night’s Dream and you actually got him to pay attention.”, Mr. Munson smiled as he finally lifted his head to look your way. “You were very good.”

“Oh, um, thank you very much. That means a lot coming from you.” He tilts his head at your comment as blush fills your cheeks again. “I just meant I’ve seen some of your lectures before and you’re an amazing storyteller. You excite me, I mean you make me want to pay attention to, I mean… ok, let’s pretend I just left right after class and didn’t just embarrass myself.”

Hugging your books to your chest, you power walk out the door as his chuckle fills your ears.

***

With a break between periods, you hastily headed for the gym after lunch to change and get out on to the track by the field. Contrary to popular belief, you were fairly athletic despite your size and enjoyed letting off steam as you pumped your legs as fast as they could take you.

As your music blared loudly in your ears, the feeling of eyes watching you grabbed your attention towards the bleachers where Coach Harrington was standing with his arms crossed and leaning to the side as Professor Munson balanced his arm on his shoulder, murmuring something to him as their eyes followed you.

Trying to block them out, you continued to focus on the path in front of you but was blindsided when a football whizzed past your nose almost hitting you.

“Whoa! Sorry, piggy. Have to keep your eyes open around here.”, Martin laughs as you roll your eyes.

Glancing their way, you noticed both men were standing straighter as if prepared to defend you if needed. You weren’t a weak little girl and for whatever reason you strongly felt like you needed to show them that. As you pick up the football one of the players lifts his hands running towards you as if expecting you to not be able to throw it but at the last minute you throw a perfect spiral to their coach who doesn’t even hesitate as he lifts his hands and catches it seamlessly from the air.

“Well, shit, gentlemen. Looks like I have a new passer.”

“Oh, no thank you, Coach Harrington. If I ever played a sport it would be with a team that doesn’t suck.”

Again, Mr. Munson snicked through his teeth as the man he was leaning on flashed you a big grin.

#############

That night you decided to run after hours, thinking you would be alone but were surprised when you saw Coach Harrington on the track.

“Shit! Sorry, you scared the hell out of me.”, he nervously chuckled.

“I’M sorry. I thought no one would be out here.”

“Yeah, normally there aren’t.”, he teased raising an eyebrow at you. “Well, don’t let me stop you.”

As he took off continuing to jog, you pushed your headphones on your head and started your run. After a couple of laps with you in your zone, your feet abruptly slipped out from under you as you tumbled forward onto the gravel.

“Whoa!”, Coach Harrington shouted in concern as he ran to your side and kneeled down. “Are you alright?”

“Ow. Yeah, I just…tripped. Fuck that hurt.”

“Let me see.” Without any hesitation, his hand gripped your leg and looked it over. “Oof, you may have a pretty good bruise there but you should be alright.” Rising to his feet, he extended his hand to you to help you up which you eagerly accepted while he gripped you tightly and led you towards the bleachers. “You must have been deep in thought because you passed me a couple of times and didn’t even turn your head.”

“I did? Yeah, I’m sorry. I just have some things on my mind.”

“No, I know what you mean. Eddie—Professor Munson told me what happened in his class. If any of those guys bother you again, please let me know. I’ll make them run laps or even sit them out of a game if I have to. Nothing scares these kids more than not being able to play.”

You knew of Steve Harrington mostly because of his parents. The Harrington’s were prominent members of the community and very well respected. In your high school there had been pictures of him from his days on the basketball and swim team when he was a student.

After he graduated, other rumors began to circulate about him spending time with the “freaks of Hawkins” but who cares. Not you especially since you had been labeled a freak since elementary.

“I, um, I hope you didn’t take offense to what I said. Your team doesn’t suck just…some of your players. I mean, not their playing ability just their personalities. FUCK, why can’t I talk today?”

His smile widens as he laughs from his gut making you don your own smile.

Coach Harrington’s eyes meet yours for a moment before a controlled laugh escapes his lips.

“What, um, what were you listening to so loud that you didn’t hear me yelling for you to slow down?”

Giggling, you gesture towards your Walkman.

“Just some CD I burned to get me pumped. Right now, it’s playing ‘Master of Puppets’ by Metallica. Have you heard that song?”

Something dark flashes over his face before he awkwardly nods and gets up leaving you alone on the bleachers as you stare after him.

***

“Are you fucking kidding me?”, you growl as you push on the girl’s locker room door to find it locked. “What is going on with me this semester?”

Glancing around and seeing no one, you brave the boy’s locker room, finding it open, assuming that in his weird state, maybe, Mr. Harrington forgot to lock up. As quickly as you could you showered and began to change into some comfy clothes.

The sound of something hitting the wall nearby froze you in fear as you gaze scanned the area.

No one nearby. It could be the janitor cleaning the coach’s office.

Quietly, you threw your things over your shoulder and tiptoed that way with the intention of ducking under the window of the area so you weren’t seen but the muffled sound of moaning had you pausing again.

“Mmm…Steve…Steven. Wh-What’s wrong, baby? Talk to me.”

“Your student that you talk about…Y/N…she was listening to that song you played in the upside down. I just…it made me think of us…us finding you.”

“Hey. Hey, hey, sweetheart. It’s ok. I’m ok. I’m right here, Steve. You saved me.”

Peeking through the window, you saw their forehead’s pressed together as Eddie gently caressed his cheek with his thumbs. A small sigh left your lips when they began to kiss each other again. With a bit of needy force, Steve turned him around and pulled his back flush to his chest. Gently nibbling on his neck, he reached around and unbuckled Eddie’s pants, pushing them down to free his cock that he promptly began stroking.

Fuck me he’s big.

You practically drooled at the sight, licking your lips as your palm absently glided under your shirt to rub your tummy.

With his free hand, Steve sloppily yanked down his sweats making you moan as you watched him spit in his palm and rub it between Eddie’s cheeks before gradually guiding himself into his entrance.

“Fuck, Steve. That’s it, baby.”

Clinging to each other tightly, Steve thrust his hips at a steady rhythm and you marveled at the sight as your fingers drifted into your own sweatpants and you began circling your clit.

“H-Harder, Steve, please.”

“Please.”, you whisper as you try to keep your eyes open and on them.

“Like this, honey? Fuck you feel so good, Eddie. I love you.”

Arching his back, your professor craned his neck to kiss the man’s lips as he pumped into him as hard as he could without hurting him.

“I love you to, baby. Shit, I’m going to cum. Cum with me, Steve.”

Nodding aggressively, he chased their highs until both men grunted and came. While they softly kissed each other your body trembled as you covered your mouth, trying to stifle your moans as the coil snapped. It wasn’t enough as both their heads turned meeting your eyes as you were coming down from cloud 9.

No one moved as the three of you stared each other.

Holding up his hands in surrender, Steve pulled out as Eddie straightened up, worry painting both their faces.

“Y/N…”

Before they could do anything else, you turned and quickly ran out of the locker room.

##############

What the fuck was I thinking?! I shouldn’t have watched them. Two teachers in the MALE locker room while I was touching myself. Shit. I’m going to be expelled for sure.

Sitting on the stage of your theater class, you focused on the script in front of you as you prepared for an audition your professor recommended. Mrs. Lilah always felt constrained by Hawkins when it came to material but this year she quiet literally said fuck them and decided to do Rocky Horror Picture Show.

As you read through your lines for Magenta, a clearing throat caught your attention.

“Hey Eddie!”, your theater teacher beamed as she waved at him and he smiled back before jumping onto the stage to sit beside you. He smelled strongly like cigarettes and a dash of cologne that had your head spinning as you continued to keep your eyes on the paper in front of you.

“Hey Lilah. I hope I’m not disturbing anything. I just need to talk to Y/N here about an assignment real quick.”

“No problem. She does have her audition for Janet in a few minutes and I’m dying to see her interpretation.”

That caught your attention as your head swiveled her way.

“I’m doing what now?”

“For Janet, honey. I think you’d be perfect. She’s a bit timid at first but comes out of her shell.”

“But…but…she’s in a bra for a good chunk of the play.”

“Yeah…does that make you uncomfortable?”

“Hm, yeah, Y/N, does people seeing your body in the shadows in an intimate way make you uncomfortable?”, Eddie murmured low enough so only you could hear.

“Let’s just do the audition and if you prove me right, we can talk about the wardrobe, ok?”

Flashing her a timid smile, you turn to give your attention to your professor.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what? Skipping my class this morning? Oh, you mean when you watched me and my boyfriend have sex in the boy’s locker room?”

“The girl’s one was locked and I needed to shower—”

“That explains why you were in the locker room but not why you were there watching. Are you going to run and tell all your little friends about how you saw the murderous freak fucking the pretty, rich football coach?”

“What? No. I would never—”

“Mhmm. Look how much will it take to keep your mouth shut?”

“Nothing. I don’t—”

“Please, Y/N! Everyone has a price and Steve doesn’t deserve to lose all he’s worked hard for. So, tell me—”

“Will you let me talk!?” Glancing around to make sure no one heard your outburst; you lower your voice as you continue. “I don’t want anything or any money. I won’t tell anyone. I genuinely don’t care about your private lives. I’m really sorry I watched. I shouldn’t have…I just…”

Your professor’s eyes focused intently on you as he waited for you to continue.

“I was attracted. The way you two kiss and the way he holds you…no one’s ever been that way with me…” When your eyes dared to finally meet his, you expected anger but those gorgeous chocolate irises displayed a softness you appreciated. “I swear, Mr. Munson, I won’t tell anyone. Your secret is safe with me.”

Nodding, he jumped down from the stage before turning to face you again.

“I think under the circumstances you can call me Eddie. Not in class but… I also think you should play Janet. You’re a very beautiful young lady. Don’t let any of these superficial idiots take away that lead role from you just because of how you look.”

#############

A couple of weeks had passed and nothing of note happened with school or your classes. You were cast as Janet, allowing Eddie’s advice to drive you as you maneuvered the role. Your professor and Coach Harrington had minimal contact with you but you always felt their eyes following you around.

Tonight, you were studying in the Hawkins diner off campus. You preferred it here then the library after hours because not only could you munch on some delicious food but no one was usually there that you knew.

As the bell above the door dinged, you glanced up from the novel Eddie had you guys reading to see said professor and his boyfriend entering the establishment and taking a seat. You couldn’t help but wonder how hard being out like this must be for them. They couldn’t share a booth or be flirty. They couldn’t hold hands or kiss, at least not visibly where people could see. You hated that for them since both seemed like good men. You wondered why they stayed behind here in this terrible little conservative town instead of moving anywhere else.

Hoping to slip out unnoticed and allow them privacy this time, you gathered your things and placed some money on the table.

“Is that my favorite piggy?”

You roll your eyes at the sound of Martin’s voice as you try to ignore him and head out the door. A hand abruptly grabs you but you slap it away.

“Don’t touch me.”, you hiss.

“Oh, come on, Y/N. It’s Saturday and we just left an awesome party. Can’t you and I get along for once?!” His friends around the table behind him snickered as a big devilish smile stretched across his face.

“If you weren’t such a fucking dick maybe. Now leave me alone.”

As you storm out the front door to your car, something tugs your backpack, ripping it open as all your books and papers tumble to floor. Martin’s hand wraps around your throat and pushes you against the trunk of your car.

“You will show some fucking respect especially in front of my friends.”

“Aw, did little Martin get his feelings hurt?”, you sass. “Didn’t realize you had any.”

Your knee rises as you hit him in his stomach but he’s still faster as his palm reaches out to grab your shirt tugging you down hard onto the pavement.

Abruptly, someone grabs his own jacket collar and tosses him roughly away from you as Eddie quickly maneuvers around them both, kneeling to your level.

“Are you ok, sweetheart? Can you stand?” Silently nodding, you take the hand he offers to you and rise to your feet. He notices immediately that your blouse is torn and without hesitation shimmies out of his leather jacket and places it around your shoulders.

“Mr. Click, on Monday, you will see me in my office.”, Coach Harrington growled as he glared at the boy.

“Oh, fuck you! That fat little whore pushed me into it!”

“HEY!”, he bellowed making you jump as your teacher rubbed your shoulders comfortingly. “I would advise you to stop speaking. You’re already in a lot of trouble.”

“Pfft, you think I’m scared of you, Steve Harrington?! Yeah, my parents told me all about you and the disappointment you became to Hawkins. You’re fucking pathetic! I’m surprised they even hired you to coach us let alone your friend the freak! I guess those satanic rituals DO fucking work.”

The man’s body language stiffened before he did that controlled chuckle you had heard before.

“Alright, Martin, we can do this right now then. I was only going to suspend you but you know, since I’m so fucking pathetic I think I’ll just go all in. You’re off my team.”

“WHAT?!”

Turning around, he ignored the boy’s continued expletives as he faced you both.

“Eddie, get her books and all her things. We’ll take her back to our house, if that’s ok with you.”, he asked pointedly in your direction. All you could do was nod and try to bend down to get your thing but the metalhead stopped you before descending to the concrete to collect your things.

“YOU CAN’T DO THIS TO ME! YOU’LL REGRET THIS!”

“Take it up with the dean. Until then on Monday, I want your shit out of my locker room or else I will throw it in the garbage. Come on, guys.”

Coach Harrington opened the back seat door for you, startling you when he closed the door a bit too hard.

***

When they parked outside of a home, neither moved as Eddie’s eyes scanned over his partner’s face.

“You ok, babe?”

His ringed fingers reached out to caress through his hair and in the rearview mirror you could see Steve close his eyes as he exhaled.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Let’s get inside.”, he answered curtly as he came around and opened your door and you followed both men inside. You stood in their living room silently as they threw their keys down and Eddie disappeared down a hallway.

When he came back, he handed you a t-shirt that read “Def Leopard: Tour of 88!”

“Go put this on and we can see about fixing your own.”

His eyes followed you as you entered their bedroom where the bathroom was located and shut the door. Removing your blouse, you could see a slight bruise forming where the strap of your backpack had been on your shoulder and some redness around your neck where Martin had grabbed you. Swallowing your pain at the sight, you put on the shirt they provided and folded his jacket, placing it nicely on the countertop.

Your eyes took in their fairly average bathroom, smirking slightly at the hair gel you imagined was Steve’s as Eddie’s hair was always wild even during class when he pulled it back. Both their colognes and bathroom products were side by side like any couples but the few things you knew about them had each personality standing out. Cigarettes were by the window near the bathtub where you imagined Eddie smoked as they took a bath together. On the floor by the shower, were some handheld barbells you imagined Steve used while Eddie took a shower or got ready so they could talk to each other about their days.

Walking back out to their bedroom, you noticed a guitar against the wall and grinned at its slightly cheesy 80s aesthetic. You remembered once hearing that Eddie Munson used to be in a band but for the life of you couldn’t remember the name. You wondered if he still played.

“Your student that you talk about…Y/N…she was listening to that song you played in the upside down. I just…it made me think of us…us finding you.”

What could he have meant by that…

Your gaze shifted to their dresser that had a vanity mirror attached with pictures taped to it. There were so many images of them together that made your smile widen but there were also photos of Steve with a young lady you remember seeing around Hawkins. She used to work at Family Video until a few years ago but you weren’t sure where she moved on to from there. Did you remember Steve there? No… you were pretty young though and focused on your own carefree life.

There were pictures of Eddie with the Hellfire club. They were still active when you went to Hawkins High filled with a cool group of kids you hung out with from time to time. There were whispers of the man that created it but everyone in the club always said good things about the former Dungeon Master.

They must have been in two different worlds in high school.

What must have happened to bring them together?

“Steven, you need to calm down.”

The sound of Eddie’s voice caught your attention after something loud slammed in the kitchen. You tiptoed down their hallway and paused on the other side of the wall.

“Fucking asshole kid, I swear to God.”

“Baby, it’s not the first time someone has said those things to us and it won’t be the last especially since we chose to stay here.”

“We didn’t exactly choose and that’s not why I’m upset.”

“Why then?”

“She…she seems like a nice girl.”

“She IS a nice girl.” Eddie sighs as he lowers his voice. “Steven, she’s a student and a lot younger than us.”

“Not a lot. Jesus, you make us sound ancient. She’s, what, how old you were when you graduated high school.”

“Hey, ok first off, rude.” They both giggle making you grin. “Second, again, she’s a student. She’s MY student. I could get in way more trouble than you.”

“Like that’s ever stopped you.”

“I swear, sweetheart, don’t we have enough chaos fucking hiding our relationship?”

“Oh, come on, Ed, you don’t like her?”

“I didn’t say that. I just… yeah, she’s beautiful and adorable and… fuck. We shouldn’t talk about this with her here.”

Collecting your bearings, you walk around the wall and knock on it lightly.

“Hey, there she is. I, uh, I fixed your backpack. Let me, um, see if I can salvage this top for you here.”, Eddie smiles as he takes it from your hands and heads for their couch.

“I didn’t know you could sew.”

“Mhmm. I can’t like whip up a brand new outfit or anything but I can patch things together.”

“Are you alright? Do you need any Band-Aids or an ice pack?”, Steve asks from his place by the counter.

“No, I’m ok. My throat is a bit sore but…” You don’t even finish your sentence before he’s turning around and grabbing an ice pack from the freezer, wrapping it in a rag, and sitting in front of you on their coffee table to place it on your neck. “Thank you. I like being choked but not like that or by that asshole.”

They both glance at each other as you blush.

“Yeah, probably not a joke to make right now. Sorry.”

“You apologize a lot.”, Eddie says from behind you.

“Sorry.” They laugh making you grin to yourself as you look down at your feet. “I hope I didn’t get you in trouble. I’m not…actively…trying to do that.”

“Oh, no worries, honey. Trust me. What is he going to say? ‘Coach Harrington kicked me off the team after I drunkenly assaulted a girl?’ I’m pretty sure the dean will side with me on that one.”

Your silence makes them nervous and they exchange another look.

“What are you thinking about, Y/N?”

“I’m thinking about how I never expected Martin to do what he did. He’s been mean to me since freshman year but never aggressive like that.”

“You know that wasn’t your fault, right, princess?”

“Yeah, I know. I…I…” Unable to control them, the tears began to flow and a ring laced hand delicately reached for your shoulder, moving the things in his lap aside so he could hold you to his chest. Steve placed his own palm on your jeaned thigh and comfortingly rubbed against the material.

Once again you were engulfed in the scent of Eddie’s cigarettes and cologne as his cheek rested on the top of your head. You couldn’t explain why but you felt safe here with their hands on you encased between them.

It had been a few months since your last relationship and you could feel yourself dropping into that particular headspace the longer they comforted you.

“I’m…I’m also thinking…about what I saw that night…in the locker room. How you two took care of each other…”

All movement on your body ceased as they even held their breathes.

“H-How about we get you home, Y/N? I can give you this shirt after our next class.”

Eddie lightly pushed you to the side as he tried to stand but you hastily grabbed his arm stopping him.

“I heard you. You said I was beautiful and sweet.”

As your little voice flowed through his ears, his eyes squeezed shut trying to keep control.

“Y/N, maybe, he’s right. Maybe, we should get you home before—”

“Before what, Steve?” This was the first time you were using his name out loud and the notion sent tingles all through your body feeling like a little girl who misbehaved.

“Hey. You show him respect, little girl. That’s Mr. Harrington or sir.”, Eddie scolded in gruff tone.

“Edward…”

“No, Steven. Little girl wants to play with the grownups, then that’s how we will treat her. Now, we said, you’re going home. Grab your things and head towards the front door.”

“Why did you bring me back here, Mr. Munson? You could have taken me back to my dorm but you didn’t. Why?”

“Because people shouldn’t be seeing a professor drop off a student on campus.”

“But Steve said he was taking me to your house out loud to Martin.”

The man’s hand firmly came down on the side of your thigh making you yelp as you bit your bottom lip.

“He said show me respect.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Harrington.” Placing your hand on top of his, your thumb tenderly ran along his skin as you leaned against Eddie’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Mr. Munson. Like I said…no one has ever taken care of me or looked out for me the way you two do with each other.”

You were slightly surprised when his fingers gently came around and brushed your hair away from your face.

“We brought you back here because we thought you were safer with us here. After what he did, we thought that’s what you needed.”

“Am I not safe here?”, you whisper as you can’t help but rub your thighs together.

“Y/N… Eddie and I have been through a lot. What you saw in my office isn’t always how we are when we’re intimate. We’re not always…soft.”

“But I promise you, princess, we are nothing like Martin. If you wanted to leave…right now…that’s ok. We can take you home or call you a cab if that makes you more comfortable.”

He was giving you an out; they both were. You could leave right now and the three of you could pretend this never happened. You could pretend that Steve’s large hand on your upper thigh wasn’t turning you on as you thought about how those long fingers would feel inside of you. You could pretend that Eddie’s touch wasn’t getting progressively slower as the pads of his own fingers traced your cheek making your pussy clench around nothing. You could pretend the notion of doing something you shouldn’t and being at the mercy of these two men’s wills didn’t drive you crazy. You could do that…

Or…

“I don’t mind it not being soft, Mr. Harrington. I trust you and Mr. Munson.” Both men exchanged on final look of caution before your last sentence pushed caution to the wind. “Please, I need you.”

“I think since you saw us in vulnerable position we should get the same courtesy.”, Steve replied in a much huskier tone than before. Taking your hands in his, he pulled you to your feet and pushed the coffee table out of the way before taking the seat you had just been in. On impulse, Eddie leaned closer to him as the other boy wrapped his arm around his shoulder.

“Go ahead, Y/N.”

As your eyes shifted between their heavy gazes, you lifted off the shirt he gave you, unbuttoned your pants, and shimmied them a bit clumsily down your legs.

You stood there waiting for more instruction as they continued to stare at your body.

“Did you see our cocks?”

“Yes.”

Steve smirked as his boyfriend began to kiss his neck while his palm traveled along his chest down his stomach.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Remember that, Y/N. I don’t like repeating myself and Eddie is a lot nicer than I am in here.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Harrington.”

Steve’s eyes fluttered when the metalhead’s palm grazed the bulge in his jeans.

“Now, if you saw or cocks, then why are you stopping?”

“You said…I should be vulnerable, sir.”

Your small voice had them groaning as Eddie fumbled with the pretty boy’s belt almost desperately.

“Fuck. Don’t move.” He commanded towards you as his head turned to capture his boyfriend’s lips. Lifting his hips, he helped Eddie blindly pull his jeans down just enough to free his length. As he started to lean over his lap, Steve hastily stopped him with a smile. “You don’t want to see her, honey?”

He chuckled as he focused his attention back on you.

“Do you feel vulnerable, Y/N?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Hm. Not enough to not finger yourself out in the open though, huh? I mean at least you had pants on.”

“I-I-I wasn’t…I wasn’t thinking—”

“No, you weren’t. Take off the rest so we can see you.”

While doing what he said, you watched as Steve pushed down Eddie’s pants as well and both men kissed passionately in front of you as they stroked each other’s cocks.

“Y/N, is there anything we should know? Anything we should avoid?”

“No, Mr. Munson.”, you answered, appreciating his soft tone as he asked his series of questions.

“You said you liked being choked but is there anything physical we shouldn’t do?”, Eddie groaned out as Steve lifted off his shirt.

You heard his question but couldn’t form an answer as your eyes starred at the scars that littered his chest. They looked like whatever wound created them was deep, possibly life threatening. What could have happened to him?

“HEY!”, he barked making you jump. “He said he’s not as nice as me but that doesn’t mean I’m easy going! Now, answer the fucking question, little girl.”

“I’m sorry, sir. N-No, I don’t mind being hit or p-punished. Mr. Munson, what happened?”

As you started to step forward, both sets of brown eyes glared your way freezing you in place.

“Do you know the stop light system?”, Steve growled in a much rougher tone than you were prepared for. Nodding curtly after reciting it to them, he got up and grabbed your arm, sitting you between them. “Now, we do have some rules, Y/N. The first rule is the most important. DON’T ask about our scars.”

“Our?”

Steve slowly lifted off his own shirt and tossed it to the side. He didn’t have as many scars as Eddie but they were just as deep and looked similar. Whatever happened must have happened to both of them.

“I’m so sorry you both went through…whatever hurt you.”, you coo as you reach out to graze your fingers down Eddie’s chest.

The darkness in their eyes faltered slightly at your sincerity and the metalhead took your hand in his, tenderly kissing the back of it.

“Second rule. You have to be vocal, Y/N. If at any point you feel uncomfortable, we need you to say red ok?”

“Yes, sir, Mr. Munson. “

“Good. Good girl.”

His praise made you giddy as you blush making him smile.

“Can I kiss you?”

“I have one more question, princess. Have you ever done anything like this before?”

“Yes and no.”

“Yeah, we’re going to need you to clarify that.”, Steve laughs.

“I’ve done rough stuff with dominate partners before. I’ve never been with two men before.”

The way you said the word men had Eddie’s eyebrow quirking upward.

“Are you trying to tell us you’ve only been with boys your age?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Why did you feel the need to tell us that?”

“Do we make you nervous?”, Steve asks as his fingers dance up your arm.

“Yes b-but not because of you two, Mr. Harrington. I just wanted you to know j-just in case I’m not as ‘experienced’ as you both.”

Eddie’s palms cupped your cheeks as he brought your lips to his. You weren’t surprised by the nicotine that lingered there but you were by the tingle that ran through your body as his tongue caressed your own. When he pulled away you tried to lean forward for more but his grip held firm.

“We weren’t expecting you to be, pretty girl. You’ve only ever been with these little boys but you’re about to be fucked by real men, sweetheart. Trust us, we know how to take care of you.”

You moaned at his promise, turning towards Steve to crash your lips with his. He was a much more determined kisser, his mouth and tongue sending that same shock wave through to your core.

“Have you ever sucked a cock as big as mine?”, he panted against your lips.

As you shake your head, his fingers grab your throat just below your jaw as if purposely avoiding where Martin had hurt you.

“What did I say? How do you answer us?”

“I’m sorry. No, sir, I’ve never sucked a dick as big as either of you.”

Sitting back, his palm moved to the back of your neck, guiding you down over his leaking tip as Eddie adjusted your body till you were on all fours for them.

“Fuck me, Steve. She is so fucking wet. Her pussy is just tripping down her thighs.”

“Aw, you like being a bad girl, don’t you, honey?”

“Y-yes, Mr. Harrington. I like being a bad girl.”

“Open your mouth.” Doing as he directed, you quickly kissed his slit making him mewl before fully taking him between your awaiting lips. “Yes, oh my god. T-That’s a good girl.”

Eddie’s fingers glided through your folds causing your eyes to roll as you bobbed your head.

“Steve, baby, Jesus, she’s so fucking tight.”, the metalhead groaned as his palm came down hard on your ass.

“Yeah, Y/N? Did that feel good? You like when your professor spanks you?”

Yanking your hair roughly he tugs you off of him as you continue to stroke him with your hand.

“I didn’t hear that, little girl. What did you say?”

“Y-Yes, sir, I like when Mr. Munson spanks me.”

At your response he spanks you again right as he guides two of his digits into your core. Gripping you tighter, Steve forces your mouth on him again and holds you still as he thrusts his hips allowing his cock to hit the back of your throat.

“Good girl. That’s it, Y/N. Keep your throat open for me.”

Abruptly, Eddie swats his boyfriend’s hand and tugs on your shoulder, guiding you down the hallway to their bedroom and tossing you onto their bed. After completely removing the rest of his clothes, he climbs between your legs and runs his wide, flat tongue through your pussy up to your clit.

“Oh shit.”, you moan as your back arches into the feeling before yelping when his palm smacks your cunt.

“Watch your mouth, little girl.”

“I’m sorry, sir. I’m sorry.”

Steve chuckles as he climbs in beside you both placing his knees by your head as his fingers grip your hair again.

“Can’t really blame her. I know how amazing your tongue feels. Then again, you may have some competition, babe, because her fucking mouth feels so good.”

Pride washes over you at his praise as you grip his cock and take him as far back as you can trying to continue to please him.

“I-It’s ok, honey. We can train this little throat. As—fuck—as you know, Eddie’s a wonderful teacher.” His boyfriend tosses him a smirk as his tongue flicks faster against your bud. “Are you going to cum? Cum, Y/N. Cum all over his face.”

Your hips grinded against him as the man’s mouth wrapped around your bundle of nerves and he pushed two of his fingers rapidly inside of you as the sound of your arousal to fill the room.

Steve backed away from you, allowing you to focus and breathe as your orgasm washed over you. As you came down from your high, Eddie lightly slapped between your legs making you jump and groan.

“Sensitive. I like that.”

Tilting towards their bedside table, he paused as their eyes met.

“Shit. I don’t have any condoms.”

“What?”, Steve almost wined as you tried to contain your smile at their desperate need for you.

“Steve, we’ve been together for almost 10 years. When was the last time we used a fucking condom?”, Eddie growled.

“We’ve been talking about adding someone to our dynamic for a while now.”

“Yeah but I wasn’t prepared for it to be tonight with a fucking student!”

“Excuse me.”, you finally pipe up. “I’m on the pill. I can understand if you still don’t want to but…I’m safe. And like I said, I trust you.”

Both men exchange a glance and you can’t help but giggle up at them.

“So how long were you going to wait before you said anything, huh?”

“Mr. Munson, you didn’t ask. I wanted to be a good girl and only speak when spoken to.”

They narrow their eyes playfully at you for a moment before Eddie grabs your jaw and tilts you till your face is level with his.

“You’re not cute, little girl. That little snarky attitude may have worked on those pathetic boys you were with but you’re in the bed of real men now. Don’t hide things from us you think we should know. Do I make myself clear?”

“Y-Yes, sir. I’m—”

Steve’s hand cuts you off as he pushes you back against the mattress.

“We know. You’re sorry.”

Taking hold of his shaft, Eddie taps himself against your pussy making you squirm as you open your legs wider for him. Grabbing your hips, he slides you closer and gradually guides himself into your dripping entrance.

“Fuuuuuck.”, he moaned as he slowly pumped his hips. “We are going to fucking ruin you for anyone else, little girl. Goddamn.”

“How does she feel, baby?”, Steve asks as he leaned towards him to lightly kiss his neck.

“S-So fucking tight, sweetheart, you have no idea. I want…”

“What do you want, Ed?”

“I wanna…fuck her into the fucking mattress.”

Your pussy fluttered around him at his words and his eyes that been closed shot open as he placed his palms on either side of you and started thrusting into you aggressively.

“You want that, you little whore. I can give that to you.”

Much softer than his partner, Steve turned your head and slide his cock back into your mouth that you eagerly sucked on relishing the taste of him. As he pounded into you, Eddie’s lips kissed along his boyfriend’s chest making the man groan louder as he ran his fingers through his hair.

Bringing his lips to his own they passionately exchanged a kiss that had you mewling as the long-haired man rolled his hips hard hitting that soft spot inside you repeatedly.

Eddie’s head tilted back as his jaw went slack and you couldn’t help but reach your hands up to run your nails down your chest.

“I’m…I’m…please…”

Steve moved back as the metalhead grabbed your wrists and held them against the bed as his face fell beside your own.

“You fucking ask me, Y/N. You beg us to let you cum. Shit. We have control in here.”, he whispers in your ear making your shudder underneath him.

“P-Please, Mr. Munson. Can I cum? I want to cum on your cock, please.”

His hair tickles your face as he nods and the action of him tenderly kissing your cheek pushes you over the edge as the coil snaps.

“Fuck, that’s it, pretty girl. Came so fucking hard on my dick. I’m going to fill you up, princess, ok?”

“Please…”, you whimper as he slams into you, chasing his high.

Your professor’s grunts filled your ear and you turned your head into the sound as he warmed your insides. As soon as he rolled off you, a hand took hold of your ankle and yanked you to the edge the bed.

“Hey, hey, honey. No, no.”, Steve cooed with a hint of sarcasm as he lightly slapped your cheek. “Open your eyes, baby. What color are you at, Y/N?”

“Green.”

His massive palm slapped you a bit harder causing your eyes to fully open as you leaned up on your elbows.

“Green, what?”

“Green, SIR!”

You’re suddenly turned on to your stomach as rough hands lift your ass in the air while another set takes hold of your wrists and pulls your top half down and forward.

“Get rid of the attitude, Y/N. You think just because you came you’re allowed to be disrespectful?”, Eddie growls as Steve spanks your behind. “Now, answer him clearly without the tone.”

“Green, Mr. Harrington.”

As he ran his tip through your folds, you knew even after taking his partner, he was going to split you in half.

“Fuck me.”, Steve moaned as he began pushing himself into you.

Eddie’s head tilted to the side as he watched your face scrunch together.

“You’re alright, sweetheart. Trust me, I know how hard he can be to take at first but it will feel good soon. I promise, baby.”, he soothed and kissed your lips.

“F-Feels…feels good…now. Fuck.”

The man behind you smacks your ass at the curse, pressing further into your cunt till his hips finally connected with yours.

“Still green, babe?”

“Yeeeees, sir.”

“Good.” Clinging to your waist, Steve pulled back till he was almost all the way out of pussy before roughly slamming back into you practically punching the air from your lungs.

“Oh my god!”

With a slanted smile, he pounded into you as Eddie watched from the side, sitting up on his knees to occasionally run his fingers down the man’s chest.

“She feels really fucking good, right? Our young, new little toy.”

“Goddamn, I’m gonna fucking bust like a teenager.”

“Wait, pretty boy. You need to feel her cum. Her pussy fucking chokes your dick, I swear.”

“Fuck, Y/N, are you close, little girl?” When you didn’t answer, his hand reached around to grab you throat and lift your back to his chest. “Still coherent, you little slut? I asked you a question.”

“H-Harder, Mr. Harrington, please.”

As his forehead landed on your shoulder, he did what you asked till the bed began to jostle underneath you. A jolt of electricity shot through your body and you mewled as Eddie rubbed circles into your clit.

You took their conversation as approval and your arm circle around Steve’s neck as you came.

“Jesus fucking Christ!”, he grunted as he took hold of your chin and turned you so his lips could mingle with yours as he pumped into you a few more times before releasing his seed inside you.

You were completely drained and slightly sore as he tried to delicately pullout of you while you waited for what to do next. Usually, the boys you were with did the minimal amount of aftercare, choosing to just cuddle with you which was fine. You were surprised, however, when Eddie informed you the bath was ready when you were.

“For me?”

“Yeah, princess, come on. It will soothe your muscles.”, he murmured softly as he took your forearm and slowly walked you to the bathtub and guided you in. Your head remained lowered as you listened to him maneuver around the bathroom, sliding on some boxers before lighting a cigarette and placing himself on his knees beside you.

Utilizing the washcloth, he cleaned you pausing when your hand suddenly grabbed his wrist as he attempted to clean between your legs.

“I’m sorry. Just sore.”, you whispered as you let him go.

Eddie’s eyes scanned you over and you heard him blow out some smoke from his lips as he put the cigarette down in a nearby ashtray. His fingers moved some of your hair back and he pressed his nose into your cheek while he continued to clean you.

“It’s ok, sweetheart. You’re still doing really good for me. I know your little pussy hurts from how we stretched her open but we got you, pretty girl. You took us both so well.”

As his deep, comforting tone continued to whisper praises, you keened into the sound as you winced, trying not to grab him again.

“I know, I know. I’m almost done.”

Tilting your head, your lips found his, both of you getting lost in the feeling as he dropped the rag from his hand so he could cup your face and hold you closer. A throat clearing distracted you two as Steve entered the bathroom.

“I, uh, I have some clothes for you here, Y/N, whenever you’re ready.”

Nodding, you allow Eddie to help you out and lead you in front of his partner who took a seat on the edge of the bed. His honey irises ran along your body, checking for extra care you may need that they inflicted but unlike your assault earlier the only mark they left was the slight reddening of their handprints on your behind.

“How’s your throat? I tried not to grab you where—”

Your kisses startled him at first but after a few seconds his hand slithered tenderly behind your neck as he kissed you back.

“I’m ok. Just sore…and tired.”, you reiterate as your heavy eye lids dropped.

“Ok, honey.” Steve’s hands held you steady while Eddie dressed you in what smelled like their clothes as you swayed in his grasp. “You did so good for us. You deserve some sleep. Would you like me to carry you to the guest bedro—”

Both men watched with amusement as your shook your head before climbing over him and crawling under their covers.

“I guess we can sleep in the—”

“Please don’t leave.”, you begged in a little girl voice that pierced their hearts.

“Why does she keep interrupting me?”, Steve chuckles as he gets to his feet and yanks Eddie into his arms to kiss his lips. “She doesn’t do that with you. Or does she in class?”

At the word the metalhead became silent as he kissed his partner’s shoulder and crawled into the bed in front of you. His palm softly caressed your face and through your hair as Steve got in bed behind you.

“You’re worried.”

“Of course, I am and not just because she’s a student. That’s just the frosting on top of the cake that is our problem.”

“That sounds delicious.”

“Steven.”, Eddie scolds as they both smile. “She’s so much younger than we are.”

“10 years. Not much.”

“Not to mention the fact, that we are already hiding OUR relationship let alone another with a young, student. She deserves to be taken on dates and to live her life. She deserves to be seen not hidden.”

“So do you, honey.”

“Steve… we decided a long time ago to stay in Hawkins for a reason. We can’t be run out of town by these homophobic small, minded idiots. They’ve just barely started calming down when it comes to me and what happened in 86. And that’s another thing. What if…what if something happens? What if Vecna comes back or any other fucking monster? We can’t drag her into that.”

“Eddie, you’re over thinking again, but I see where you are coming from. Let’s…let’s take it one day at a time, ok? Who knows. She may wake up and decide this is all too much herself. She may not want to be with some…old, broken-down college professors slash coach.”

“Oh my god, baby.”, the long-haired boy chuckles as he throws his arm over his eyes. “You’re not broke down. We just have some wear and tear.”

Your palm reaching out and pulling Eddie closer as you fully folded into Steve silenced them. They relaxed into you as your professor kissed your forehead and your school’s coached nuzzled into your shoulder as they drifted off to sleep with you.

##############

@corkadymu @lilaclazer @aol19 @nailbatanddungeon

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dailyadventureprompts · 7 months ago

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Want to know my spiciest d&d take as someone who introduces a lot of people to the game?

Classes (and subclasses) should be rated for complexity, and newer players should be steered away from overly complex options so that they're not asked to do double or triple the work of memorization of other players. This is especially true if the player is going to be slower to pick up on game mechanics, be they young, old, or simply not someone who's very experienced with games in general.

Think about it this way: everyone at the table is expected to learn the base game (what dice to roll, how to pilot their character by talking, actions in combat), some of which is written down but the rest being vibes based and mostly communicated through gentle coaching by the DM. On top of that a portion of your players are going to have to learn how spells work, effectively doubling or trippling their early game class features. This is to say nothing of druids, who not only have to learn all the base features and spells but also have to keep several different statblocks on hand when it comes time to turn into animals/summon familiars. If you have my luck, it's always going to be the shyest/most anxious player at the table who selects the most complicated class, paradoxically meaning the player who's least likely to ask for help is usually in most need of it.

I'm not saying we should restrict all new players to only playing vanilla human champion fighters, but I think a level of oversight is absolutely necessary when guiding new folks into the game. Consider running a trial adventure that's limited to martial classes, introducing a few magic items half way through to give them a taste of what spellcasting could be like.

Forget about the traditional Tank/dps/expert/support/caster party balance, that shit is for experienced players who know what they're doing.

#dnd meta #dm advice #dm tips #dapper digresses

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warping-realities · 2 months ago

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Parental Pressure

Eddie watched the personal trainer's video for the thousandth time as he was getting closer to the little gym for his first class. He had snuck out of his house super early and quietly because he knew Nick, his old man, wouldn’t approve of his son wasting time on this kinda stuff. He became a single father really young, back in high school, and now, at 35, he did everything he could to make sure his kid didn’t follow the same path. Becoming a doctor was Nicholas Rousseau’s biggest dream, but early fatherhood messed up his chance to hit the books at college. Not that he blamed Eddie for it; on the contrary, they usually had a solid relationship, except when Eddie strayed from the plans his dad laid out for his future. If Nick couldn’t get into med school, Eddie sure as hell would, whether he liked it or not. And now, with less than a month before college kicked off, Eddie was having doubts about the path laid out for him. So, in a rebellious move, after getting an invite to check out Rocco “Rocky” Mancini's gym, an Italian bodybuilder who moved to the States, now retired and not exactly a big name in the game, who a few years back started hustling as a personal trainer and, according to the promo video on Eddie's Instagram, was looking for young men to boost his portfolio. It looked like that gig wasn’t going great either. The first person to sign up would get a month of free daily training. Perfect for Eddie; after all, a month of training with an expert before college would make things way easier when he had to hit the gym away from his overprotective dad’s watchful eye. Surprisingly he was the first one to sign up! And so, the young skinny man, with light brown hair found himself stepping into the dimly lit gym at 6 AM.

As he stood frozen at the door, anxiety washing over him, a monstrous figure approached, strutting with swagger, muscles bulging looking like they might burst from the thin layer of skin wrapping them. With a fuller beard and looking at least five years older than in the video Eddie had seen over and over, the guy oozed confidence and a certain arrogance. But those weren’t the only things he was giving off, as it became clear to Eddie when the dude came up to him with a sweaty hand extended to shake, a distinct animal musk dominating his senses.

“You must be Eddie! Nice to meet ya, kid; I’m Rocco, but you can call me Rocky—everyone does. Welcome to my little temple. So, you ever trained before?”

“Ahn, no... I wanted to, but my dad... no, I’ve never trained.”

“Feeling a little bit of Daddy Issues here? Just kidding, son! Where’s your workout gear?”

“I thought, since it’s the first day... I... didn’t bring any...”

“Damn, son, you weren’t kidding when you said you’ve never trained; you don’t have a clue! But don’t sweat it, we’ll fix that! You can wear the shirt; I’ll get you some shorts.”

“I... don’t wanna be a bother.”

“Son, you came here to train, and train is what you’re gonna do. I don’t know what your pops taught you but it looks like you got a lot to learn from me. First thing, you gotta be more assertive—don’t be scared to say what you think or do what you like.”

Hearing that, Eddie felt something shift inside him; the fear and anxiety that had been eating at him for weeks seemed to fade away. He wanted to be there, and nobody was gonna take that away from him, not even his old man.

After hitting the locker room and putting on the shorts Rocco lent him, which were way too big in the legs but surprisingly just right in the waist, Eddie went back to the main room where the personal trainer was waiting for him.

“We gotta fill those shorts, son!”

“That’s why I’m here, Mr. Mancini.”

“Hell yeah! That’s the spirit but none of this Mr. Mancini nonsense; you either call me Rocky or coach.”

“Yes, sir, coach!”

“That’s right! Now, back to our chat, you said you’ve been training for a while, but how long is a while, son?”

That info was totally wrong; he’d never trained, right? But why did he have fuzzy memories of sneaking out to hit the school gym before class during his senior year? If he hadn’t trained, where did those small but tight muscles come from?

“I’ve been training for almost a year, coach, but I don’t think I’ve seen much result.”

“Two more things to teach you, son: first, we’re never happy with the size we are, and second, even so, you’re never gonna downplay your achievements; you’ve done something that most people can’t even pull off. Be proud of that.”

“I... I’m proud, yeah!” he replied, realizing the coach was speaking the truth. He had a lot of pride in what he accomplished, even though he knew he was still far from where he wanted to be.

“Awesome! Now you’re talking like a real champ. But enough chit-chat, let’s see what you’re made of.” Rocco said before putting Eddie through the most grueling workout he’d ever experienced. His self-taught training hadn’t prepared him for this level of exhaustion. After half an hour of intense agony, they took a break, and Eddie tried to recover before what he knew would be another half hour of torture as Rocco praised him.

“Damn, son, all that fuss you had with your pops to come train with me in your junior year was worth it. You’re huge; another minute and that shirt ain’t gonna hold!”

Still exhausted from the workout, Eddie took a moment to wrap his head around what the trainer had said. A fight with his dad...? And training here for at least three years...? No... it didn’t make sense... but then he saw his own reflection in the gym mirror, and he was... fucking swole! And that... that wasn’t just possible; it was thanks to the time he’d spent caring for his body all this while, even with his dad breathing down his neck.

“Thanks, Coach, but I’m still not anywhere near where I wanna be!”

“Well, if you get closer, this shirt definitely isn’t gonna hold. I’ll grab you one of mine, or you can train shirtless until the other clients show up, son. In the meantime, figure out how to get that thing off, but I doubt it’s coming off without tearing. Maybe you should film a video for your social media; I bet your followers will go wild!”

“Haha, I don’t think that they will care, and I feel kinda uncomfortable putting myself out there. So I’ll take the shirt.” Eddie replied as the coach returned with an enormous shirt in hand and offered it to him.

“Son, there’s no reason to be shy about showing off; you sculpted that body for a reason. Don’t tell me that’s another one of your dad’s ideas? You never cared much about what he thinks, and I’ve known you since you were a little brat, fourteen years old, showing up on opening day to get an autograph!”

Once again, Eddie felt something shift inside him; the cordial relationship he had with his overly protective dad was turning into a conflictual one, with both of them constantly arguing about the expectations they had for Eddie’s future, which drove him to practically live at Rocco’s gym, where he helped with maintenance or took care of the place to keep training without having to pay.

“You’re right, as always, Rocky; it’s just that, I dunno... I think this crowd that needs to post everything they do is kinda empty and vain.”

“Son if you don’t show off your gains, you won’t grow your followers, and so what if it seems kinda empty? What matters is being seen. And nobody builds a body like yours without a bit of vanity. I’ll let you keep training; I’ve got a client in twenty minutes. If you need me for anything, just holler.”

“Rocky, I can train better than a lot of pro bodybuilders, man! You know that!”

“Son there’s a fine line between confidence and arrogance! You can strut around all you want with your followers, but don’t come at me with that!” Rocky shot back, though he couldn’t hide a smile of approval.

As the trainer moved away to organize things for his client, Eddie focused on finishing his remaining exercises. Kicking off his sneakers and heading to the squat rack barefoot, he stacked plate after plate until he formed a sizable pile that would surprise anyone. But the truth was, despite the insane weight, it was relatively easy for Eddie. Next, he hit the leg press and finished with deadlifts using a bar that weighed more than a baby rhino. When he sat down to do his last exercise of the day, calves, a distinct funk emanated from his armpits, but mainly from his giant size 14 bare feet. Looking at himself and feeling pumped, he couldn’t resist pulling out his phone to shoot a TikTok video. He was in the middle of recording when Rocky interrupted him.

“Damn, kid, you reek! No offense, we all have a little man funk; I know how it is, but clients are gonna start showing up, so take a shower and let’s get to work.”

“Damn, coach, sometimes you’re worse than my dad.” The kid replied, stopping the recording.

“I am your father, boy!” The older man shot back with a sinister grin and a predatory look at the younger man before continuing. “And if you really wanna please your fans, be a show-off; don’t hide your assets, son; show off that chest and those abs, but hurry up, ‘cause this place is gonna be packed soon. We’re not the biggest gym in town by luck, Wardo. This young stud pose might please your fans, but the morning ladies prefer when you play the part of the innocent bambino.”

This time, the wave of strangeness hit Eddie so hard that he felt dizzy and nauseous, exacerbated by the potent funk he was putting off. And for the first time since he stepped foot in that gym, he fully realized what was going down as he automatically took off his shirt and walked toward one of the gym mirrors, a gym which seemed to expand with every step he took, turning from a small studio into a gigantic complex. As his skin took on an olive tone and his dark brown hair curled into perfect black curls, while his nose turned aquiline like a Roman emperor from antiquity, Eddie struggled within his own mind while Edoardo Mancini took control. If someone could hear the debate between the two, it would sound something like:

“Dude, I am... no, we are what you’ve always wanted to be! Pops gave you this chance; why not embrace it?”

“’Cause I... I’m going to med school...”

“You never wanted that; we never wanted that; that was Nicholas’s thing, not ours. This is our chance to be whoever we wanna be!”

“No... we are what Rocco made us; we’re just trading one controlling dad for another!”

“Not even close, dude! We chose this path; he didn’t pressure us! We followed him out of admiration, and that boosted both his success and ours; we’re legends in the fitness world!”

“Rocco was a mediocre pro... he’s using us for leverage!”

“And what’s wrong with that? We’re getting something out of it too! And how is that different from Nicholas pressuring you?”

“I... I... don’t know...”

“Dude, if you didn’t want this, I wouldn’t be here. Chill and enjoy; besides, Pops already got what he wanted from us. He’s not gonna pressure us to follow in his footsteps. We can be whatever we want: bodybuilders like him, or fitness models, or even kickstart an acting career; and I’m not even talking about porn, even though this big guy between our legs would be a hit. Just accept it.” Wardo said, stroking the giant cock in his mind and in real life.

“I... I... damn... this feels so... fucking... good!”

“Wardo! Wrap it up, kid, and stop playing with that thing; we got a new client coming.” Rocco scolded his son.

“Damn, Pops, another ruined video!”

“You weren’t gonna post that, kid; you wanna get banned from social media?”

“I was just messing around...”

“Kid... you’ve got five minutes to take a shower and get your ass to the front desk.”

“Okay, Dad! Did you hear that, folks? The great Rocco Mancini has spoken, and the good son obeys! I’ll be back with updates soon.” The young man said before stopping the recording.

“I’ll edit it so nothing racy gets out; don’t worry, Dad!”

“Five minutes and counting!” Rocco replied with fake irritation, but in reality, he was puffed up with pride for his son as he headed for the reception, spotting a man in his mid-thirties, wearing glasses and an outfit that screamed he’d never set foot in a gym in his life.

“Good morning, sir; welcome to Rocky's Gym; I’m Rocky Mancini, the owner and head coach. Are you looking for something?”

“Good morning, I’m Nick Rousseau, and I’m actually looking for my son; his phone tracker showed he was here just a few minutes ago before it suddenly stopped working.”

“Tracker? Isn’t that a bit much? Anyway, how old is he and what’s he like? We haven’t had anyone too young around here today, except for my own kid, but if I can help you out…”

“I... I don’t know...”

“You don’t know? What kinda dad doesn’t know how to describe his own kid?”

“I... I...” Nicholas replied, his voice filled with genuine desperation, which made Rocco feel a bit of sympathy, but not enough to stop him from making the next call.

“Hey, Wardo... Wardo!!! Damn kid never listens! Edoardo Mancini!!!!” Rocky yelled while watching Nicholas slightly tremble at the sound of that name.

“What’s up, Pops? I’ll get ready in a sec.” The handsome young man replied as he prepared to flex the powerful muscles that no kid his age could get without maximum dedication, watched by his dad and the other boy.

“Not that, you insubordinate ragazzo! This guy’s looking for his son; has anyone younger shown up today?”

“Nope!” He replied, giving Nicholas a quick glance over the shades he was wearing just for style before turning around and finally heading to the locker room.

“Sorry about that, teenage boys; you know how they are.” Rocco said, smiling at the other man.

“I... know?”

“Didn’t you come looking for your son?”

“Son?? Son... no... I don’t have kids... do I?” Nicholas replied, looking both confused and desperate.

“Are you feeling alright? I’m no doc, but I can try to help.”

“Doc... doctor? No... no need... I’m a doctor.” Nicholas replied with more confidence.

“Seriously? That’s awesome! Doctors are always good clients; they know how to take care of themselves.”

“Client?”

“You didn’t come here to train? We’re in a gym, after all.”

“Of course... I came... to train. You come highly recommended.”

“Modesty aside, it’s because I’m the best. I normally don’t take new clients, but we could use a doctor to evaluate our clients, so we could do a trade; you wouldn’t happen to be a sports doc, would you?”

“No, I…”

“Awesome! Just what I needed! But I can tell you’re already in shape!” Rocco said, grinning. “Let me show you the gym. Normally, this would be Wardo’s job, but the kid’s been so focused on his influencer career that he’s slacking here... between us, I’d rather he be a bodybuilder like me, but I think a dad should respect his kid’s wishes; don’t you think?” Rocco asked, and without waiting for a reply, he continued. “Don’t you wanna have kids? Are you single or married? Dude, if you’re single, I gotta introduce you to my sister; no disrespect to her, ‘cause my mama raised me right, but between us, she’s a total smoke show...” And so he went on while Nicholas followed, not realizing that with every word spoken, his reality was adjusting to the other man’s desires.

Minutes later, Rocco stepped into the locker room bathroom and watched his son recording another video, already showered but still unable to shake off the musk that surrounded him, maybe because he was still wearing the same shorts from his workout. He admired his boy, feeling proud knowing all this was his hard work paying off.

When the young man finished recording, he turned to him.

“Wardo, finish getting dressed and come out here for a minute; I got a surprise for you.”

….

“Hey guys, Wardo Mancini here, and I’ve got some awesome news! You’re probably tired of seeing my pops in my videos, but today, besides him, I wanna introduce you to someone else.” He said, repositioning the camera in the packed gym.

“This handsome fella next to my dad is my doctor, Nic Russo, and on top of that, he’s my uncle, married to my dad’s sister. And now for the biggest news: he’s about to be a dad, and he asked me to be the godfather of his boy! Just think about the genetics of that kid with a dad like this and an uncle like my pops. My uncle says the kid can be whatever he wants, but we all know the iron bug is in our blood, and as far as his godfather is concerned, Rocky Russo is gonna be a champion bodybuilder!”

#male tf #mind change #reality change #jockification #mental transformation #race change #musclegrowth

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clairdelunelove · 10 months ago

Text

heart on the court

basketballplayer!itadori yuuji x reader

genre: fluff! (basketball drabble!)

warnings: slight cursing, slightly suggestive?, mentions of injury (not graphic tho!)

synopsis: yuuji's the best on the court. athletic, reliable, and great sportsmanship. unfortunately for you, though, is that he's from the rival school. but suddenly he's spotting you in the crowd and you're patching up his injury. so of course he's getting your number.

a.n. noticed I missed writing about fics surrounding school so I went back to my roots lol. I stumbled across a pic of yuuji in a basketball jersey and felt COMPELLED to write this. so enjoy :3

literally drooling at the thought of how itadori yuuji, who's on the rival school's basketball team, manages to get your number after the game.

animated chatter buzzed throughout mobs of students at the promise of this evening’s basketball game. it was supposed to be a friendly match— doubling as a scrimmage so the players had some practice before the strict season games. a time where coaches put in their substitutes to introduce them into the team's dynamic. try out a couple skills, run some drills, and build up morale. but you, along with everyone else, knew what this game ensued when your rival school’s name was posted on the campus’ bulletin board. it wasn’t just your school that was hypervigilant either. word quickly spread that the other school’s roster had their infamous ace on it. known to sway the game’s outcome just by his presence on the court. you had missed the last game, caught up in a club meeting and the fear of missing out tugged at you to attend this time. the game was an event that the entire student population eagerly looked forward to. banners were made, glittery pieces that had some sort of motivational quote plastered on it, confetti was cut, and balloons were blown up to decorate the school’s gymnasium. and, of course, girls’ crafted signs to cheer their boyfriends on during the match. the game was a huge, notable affair that deviated from the school's mundane schedule– and you wouldn’t miss it even if you had to scurry right after film class ended.

basketballplayer!yuuji who audibly gasps as he steps into your school’s gymnasium. the building is enormous– clean– and students are already occupying a majority of the bleachers. he’s clad in his team’s warm-up gear; branded sports jacket and baggy sweatpants that are ideal for practicing. the male would’ve blended in well if it wasn’t for the sleek headphones around his neck and how he expresses an impressed, “woah.” hand reaching up to push down the hood over his head, he shakes off the remnants of rain that cling onto him and does his best to rub the bottom of his sodden shoes on the entrance’s mat. he expected it to rain. packed an umbrella in the red gym bag slung over his shoulder but couldn’t be bothered to take it out. his teammates weren’t so prepared, however. raising their bags over their heads to stay dry and patting themselves off from the heavy sprinkle. just a small disadvantage from not being the school’s home team. unfortunate that the weather was gloomy for such an anticipated game. though, it doesn’t dim the team’s enthusiasm and the gymnasium’s atmosphere. just encourages the crowd’s ovation when the rival team saunters into the place. “they’re all fired up,” one of yuuji’s teammates remarked with a pleased smirk.

basketballplayer!yuuji who warms-up with heavy music blasting through his headphones and a basketball in his hand. dropped his bag off near the sidelines before rummaging for the sweatband he usually wears. it’s a plain black fabric that helps keep his unruly hair away from his face. but really, the girls’ can’t help but notice how the sweatband emphasizes his dark undercut when he pushes it through his blushy hair. attractive in a way that captivates not only his school’s following but also the home team’s admirers. compensation, as some would call it, for watching the game. yet, yuuji never views it that way. puts himself in the zone while the rest of the team idle around; they’re likely found chatting with friends or winking at the girls on the bleachers. he strides on the court, politely waves to his school’s traveling fans before habitually dribbling the ball beside him. practices a couple layups and free throws to get the blood pumping. isn’t a huge fanatic of the attention that he gains from how precise his movements are but he’s aware that’s the price of being the team’s ace.

basketballplayer!yuuji who, from the corner of his eye, spots you scrambling into the building. you freeze immediately. eyes widening at the sheer amount of people that crowded around the doors; most were dawdling while waiting for friends in order to grab a seat together. you pressed the stack of film books closer to your chest to endure the feverish pushing that came with the thrill of the evening game. wasn’t anything worth panicking about. just a couple elbows and shoulder nudging until a figure parts the loud crowd. “need some help?” unbeknownst to you, the rival school’s ace separated the sea of students to reach you and provide some assistance. well-mannered, polite, or considerate ought to be his middle name. you blink, speechless because you’re face to face with the attractive male. even has a pretty voice to match. yuuji allows you to blatantly stare– forever the patient person he is while grinning abashedly. “‘gonna take that as a yes,” he chuckles and raises his voice so you can hear him over the noise, “follow me!” ends up walking you to the slot of empty space where his duffel bag resides. his teammates toss a sleazy whistle over their shoulder which compels yuuji to mutter, “shut up, man,” before ushering you along. he’s still in a good mood by default. while accompanying him, you’re unable to refrain yourself from gawking. he’s all sharp features that melt into boyish charm when he interacts with you. “good movie, by the way,” he points to the book in your hand. “oh!” you glance at the film’s cover before smiling, “right? I finished it over the weekend and really liked it.” upon noticing that you’re chatting with him, he promptly slides off his headphones so he can hear you clearer. it’s a seemingly insignificant gesture but it warms your heart nonetheless. having genuine courtesy to others was utterly irresistible to you. the guys at your school didn’t hold a candle to him. begs you to wonder; who was he?

basketballplayer!yuuji who waits until you’re situated before hollering out a quick, “later!” dribbles back on court to join the team’s practice drills before the match and only shoots you a grin when he notices you’re staring. doesn’t bank on gaining anything from you– he’s authentically chivalrous. you, on the other hand, are absolutely intrigued by the blushy haired male from the rival school. wide, glimmering eyes on him as he’s zeroed in on passing the ball. the crowd’s clamor is only heightened when the warning whistle shrieks to indicate that– finally– it’s game time. yuuji shuffles over to pack his headphones and sweatband. ends up slicking his spiky hair behind his ears and earns a couple squeals of delight. he sheds off his jacket and sweatpants next; so he’s clad in the team’s official dark uniform. his sleeveless jersey cuts into a deep v-neck to unveil pretty collarbones that have you squinting to admire. even his baggy shorts can’t conceal the strength of his physique. as expected, he’s all lean muscle that overshadows anyone else on the court. yuuji shoots a good-natured thumbs up to your school’s players, places his hands on his thighs, and does a couple stagnant stretches before tip off. and gosh– can he play. remarkably, he’s everywhere on the court. rebounding shots, gaining points from layups, and taking the responsibility of every free throw. it’s impressive because he’s deemed as average height for a basketball player. yet, he’s the power forward that teams fantasize about. zips up and down the court without a hint of fatigue. the audience is glued to his every move too, becoming uncontrolled whenever he has possession of the ball. whistles and cheers whenever he manages his infamous dunk. hangs off the rim with a single hand while grinning gleefully at the crowd. bright eyes blazing with the kind of adrenaline a person only experiences from being unrivaled in their expertise. you’re even reveling in the ambience. cheering wholeheartedly for him (a player that’s not from your school) but sheepishly dialing back your enthusiasm when yuuji glances in your direction.

basketballplayer!yuuji who’s unstoppable on the court. so unstoppable, in fact, that the only time he’s subbed out is when he’s on the receiving end of an offensive foul. catches a solid body-slam while he’s turned around so he scrapes his knee as an attempt to steady himself. the audience buzzes with distress when yuuji slowly picks himself back up. a teammate claps him on the back as he limps to the sideline bench at the next opportunity. he doesn’t seem like he’s in pain, though. cheerily waves and says, “hey!” when he recognizes you in the crowd. fortunately, the seat he found for you was perfect because now he’s situated a bleacher row below you. the coach hands him a damp towel which he uses to apply pressure on his bleeding knee. pressing the rag down to control the minor injury, he whirls around to ask you, “enjoying the game?” a gleam in his stare conveys a hope of praise that you’ll offer him. “I am!” you cup your mouth with a hand so you’re audible over the crowd, “you’re great!” lifting an arm to wipe off the sweat on his forehead, he smiles broadly, “am I?” and the tone in his voice reveals genuine curiosity. he’s not attempting to coax more compliments out of you, no, yuuji’s real intent is to keep conversing with you. you’re nodding right away, head bobbing so vigorously that he ends up chuckling. “how’s your knee? that was a nasty fall.” you point to where the rag has splotches of crimson on it. “fine,” he smoothly replies with a casual shrug to ease the worry written on your face, “I’ve dealt with worse.” then, you reach into your backpack to hand him a bandaid while sheepishly avoiding his gaze, “I have this if you want to use it.” the patch is a soft-hued color and has an animated character cheering on it. yuuji decides it’s cute– like you. his cheeks are set aflame as his slender fingers work to press it over his scraped knee. pats it for good measure to demonstrate that it’s better. you made it better. “thanks!” ill-timed, his coach advises him that he’ll be back on the court soon so he extends his legs to stretch the muscles. he’s guided to the substitution area but before he hops back on the court, he turns to call out to you, “will I see you after the game?”

basketballplayer!yuuji who’s reduced to clumsy pauses and splutters when he finds you waiting for him after his game. it was a formidable match but his flawless performance just gave his team the upper-hand. the crowd was satisfied, though. buzzing with compliments for yuuji and his athleticism– the usual revelation that causes his supporters to steadily grow. slinging a towel over his shoulder, he grabs his duffel bag, takes out his umbrella, and tosses in a couple praising remarks to his teammates before ambling over to the gymnasium’s exit. he’s in a grand mood; the crowd was wild, his teammates/coach were pleased with him, and the endorphins consuming him after the spectacular game were pumping through him. yet, the rival school’s star player literally stumbles on his feet when he finds you patiently waiting for him. you’re all soft, delicate features that are only enhanced in the building’s fluorescence. a beauty that he’d be damned to remember if he saw you passing through his school’s hallways. although, his favorite part of you was the sparkling smile on your glossy lips when you caught a glimpse of him. blindly, he makes his way over to you. and boy is he a stuttering mess. red-faced and sweaty, yuuji manages to get your name and immediately mentions that it matches you. “it’s pretty,” he clarifies when you tilt your head in skepticism. overall, the two of you are interrupted multiple times (with students asking for pictures or chatting post-game with him) and he’s hastily apologizing for the inconvenience each time. dark brows shooting up, he’s the epitome of panic as his gaze darts to the line of people waiting for his regard. “sorry!” yuuji sheepishly bows his head while explaining, “it’s usually not, uh, like this after games–” and his hand reaches out to guide you to a spot that’s less crowded but you’re giggling at how ruffled he is about the whole ordeal. “they seem to like you a lot,” you bring up as his hand gently closes over your wrist after leading you to a place outside of the building. it's sprinkling, droplets catching on your lashes and he hastily opens his umbrella for you. slowly, you’re drawn closer to him and the warmth he exudes. your fingertips move to graze over his calloused knuckles, a spellbound guise in your gaze. he chokes on his breath. “how about you?” he inquires, unexpectedly meek and tender now that the two of you are alone, “I mean, how do you feel about me?” and it’s safe to say that when you slip your number into his hand, the adoration is mutual.

#jujutsu itadori #jujutsu kaisen #yuji itadori #itadori x reader #yuuji itadori #yuuji fluff #itadori x y/n #itadori yuuji x reader #jjk x reader

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morownic · 4 months ago

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of fever dreams and jamais vu

And, of course, like all fever dreams, he had to wake himself up from it. (But this one? This one was real.)

warnings/tags: NSFW MDNI (non-graphic smut), non-ultraman AU, afab + fem pronouns

next — series masterlist · my other works · ao3

a/n: there were a lot of songs that i listened to while writing this (animals) and i do have a playlist of them but i would recommend color tv to listen while reading the flashback part bcs i did write this part with that song on repeat lol. enjoy!

All the world and his wife was scrutinizing Ken Sato the moment he stepped out of the airport and took his first deep breath in his homeland after twenty years. Of course, he welcomed and basked in the attention even if it suffocated him—quite literally, he must add, what with how the reporters and photographers were almost wrestling each other to get a scoop on him. What came after that only gave him a headache after a headache. He had to settle in his new residence, a mansion he bought just 15 minutes away from where his father lived, one that felt way too big for just one person and his supercomputer assistant. He finalized his contract with the Yomiuri Giants, followed by a meeting with all the staff members and a less-than-formal outing with his new teammates to some club in Shibuya he didn’t bother to remember the name of, where he was just constantly reminded that he was alone. The day after that, he had to deal with a hangover, a press conference, and an interview that ticked him off—Ami Wakita, was it?—before ending the night with a bar fight that left his shoulder aching.

Ken was sure he wouldn’t even have considered moving back to Japan nor would he have let his father somehow slip back into his life if it wasn’t for his mother.

With his injury, your father needs you, kiddo.

And so, Ken Sato began his baseball career in Japan with the Yomiuri Giants. He brought the team to their first victory of the season despite a lot of things: how the media was still on his ass about why he would leave his career with the Los Angeles Dodgers behind, how Coach Shimura seemed to have a chip on his shoulder when it came to him, how the pain in his own shoulder would stab and dull with every movement he made. The way his shoulder ached left him wondering if he should have treated it more seriously rather than seeing it as an inconvenience, perhaps put his pride aside to admit that yes, that drunken brawl was fucking stupid, and my shoulder fucking hurts. That was why he didn’t think much of it when Coach Shimura was talking about bringing in some new guy—something about a new performance analyst or whatever—as a matter of fact, he couldn’t care less.

So, imagine his surprise when he showed up to practice and saw a face he hadn’t seen since graduating college in the States. A face that made his breath hitch because one, she was just that beautiful, and two, he had no idea why she would be here. A face that was so familiar he almost threw up from shock, anger, guilt, longing. A face that contorted into contempt at the mere sight of him.

Ken Sato was sure of one thing at that moment.

He was completely, utterly, thoroughly fucked.

Ken Sato wasn’t always the famed world-class baseball star he turned out to be, and she wasn’t always the blunt and tight-lipped new analyst for the Yomiuri Giants she turned out to be.

He was a doe-eyed, lanky Japanese kid who had above average grades in his classes and showed promising results as a slugger for the baseball team. He spent most of his freshman year being stereotyped and made fun of for how he looked and talked, and it only changed because he had his growth spurt in sophomore year. Not only did he become a cleanup hitter by the end of the year, girls were suddenly giving him bedroom eyes in the hallway and guys tried to make up for their borderline bullying by letting him into their cliques. His friendships with them were shallow, really, because they would still poke fun at this old accent even after he had nearly perfected his American accent. Ken took it in stride only because he knew everyone would never make fun of him in baseball, not when he had practically put his school on the map by winning tens of titles and playing in the Senior League. And so, by the end of high school, Ken had baseball to thank for almost everything in his teenagehood.

She, on the other hand, came to high school smart and pretty. Where Ken stood out like a sore thumb, she stood out like a broken finger. Someone being academically gifted and socially relevant was practically unheard of at that time. She was among the top 10 students in freshman year, earned her spot as the leadoff hitter for the softball team in sophomore year, won a national debate championship in junior year, and passed 4 AP classes with flying colors in senior year. She, too, had put the school on the map, perhaps even more contributively than Ken did, so the teachers only kept their grievances for when she skipped class to smoke. Even so, everyone seemed to like her regardless of their cliques; she was always greeted in the hallways, was almost always invited to every party, and had gone out with all the popular students. She could have had it all, and whatever her secrets were, Ken and the other students in their school only knew her as the high school sweetheart, the kind you would see printed next to the definition of high school sweetheart itself.

Ken had seen her in passing during freshman year, but he never really talked to her until they shared three classes together in sophomore year. He remembered that she had approached him first during PE, suddenly speaking to him in fluent Japanese that he nearly had a whiplash. She told him that yes, I know you’re also Japanese and sorry I didn’t talk to you sooner, then babbled something about how she felt guilty that she had just been watching while others made fun of him. He didn’t think much of it at first, still surprised that one of the popular girls—if not the popular girl—in his year was actually talking to him. But then, he found himself understanding every word she said whenever she talked in Japanese and replying to whatever she was saying in English; he found himself exchanging notes and numbers with her in math class; he found himself going to the baseball field with her during lunch breaks and seeing who could hit the farthest. He was somehow roped into bringing her home after he offhandedly mentioned her to his mother, and then, they somehow became best friends. He would cover for her whenever she skipped class to smoke, much to his dismay, and she would introduce him to other social circles outside his baseball team, where he found his first girlfriend—who, admittedly, broke up with him because the way he spoke about his “best friend” was laced with more adoration than the first kiss he had with her. He would wait until their practice sessions were over and drive her home, where they would spend at least three hours talking on her porch before he went home, and she would show up to his games with an obnoxious handmade banner that read “KEN SATO THE G.O.A.T,” cheering the loudest whenever he hit a home run. He would pick her up from anywhere almost every time she asked, even if he had to get himself out of bed at two in the morning, and she would hang out at his place every other weekend, bringing fruit baskets and takeouts for his mother. It was somewhat domestic, how she settled in his apartment (and his life) whenever she came over. Ken almost always had to ground himself because his brain would feed him thoughts of a future with her, and his heart would beat so hard it threatened to break out of his ribcage.

But they were just best friends, he thought and said to his friends whenever they asked him about her. Best friends who happened to suck off, eat out, and eat each other’s faces pretty regularly. He found it funny at first, really; one time, their classmates told her that she just wasn’t human, what with how she juggled school and being popular. She only laughed it off, but he thought of how right they were when she came over while he was home alone at the end of sophomore year. There was no way the girl kneeling between his legs was fucking human. Not with that tongue of hers. Not with the way she looked up and batted her eyelashes at him. Not with how she literally gulped down his load in one go and played Tekken on his console as if she hadn’t just given him the best head of his life. She quite literally sucked the soul out of him that day, and he never had another head like that ever since. Even as they started hooking up—strictly platonic, she said, and he just went along with whatever she wanted as long as it was with her—that was still the stuff of his wet dreams, and it remained that way even long after they never saw each other again.

“Do you think we’ll be friends forever?”

The question caught Ken off-guard not only because it broke the comfortable silence between them, but also the feelings it evoked. Where is she going with this? he thought. A frown was etched on his face as he turned to look at her. Under the soft glow of the star projector in her room, she laid on her back, eyes tracing the constellations that danced across the ceiling. Her breathing was far more steady than his, chest rising and falling slowly behind the thin fabric of his shirt. Her hair fanned out around her on the pillow, framing her face as if it was her halo. At that time, her expression was probably the most serene and somber he had ever seen. She’s beautiful, he said to himself, and he thought it wouldn’t be so bad to keep a picture of this moment in his head for his selfish reminiscing should they ever stop being friends. (He hardly thought she meant that they could be more than friends, and he didn’t want to entertain the thought of not having her in his life.)

“Yeah?” He answered and mentally cursed himself for sounding so unsure. After clearing his throat, he corrected himself: “I mean, yeah, why not?”

There was no way she hadn’t seen the way he was staring at her from the corner of her eye. Even if she did, she didn’t turn her head to face him and only hummed in response to his answer. A look of contemplation appeared on her face as she kept quiet for nearly another minute. Ken swore it felt like an eternity.

“What if–” She sighed. “What if we fuck up and hurt each other? What then?”

Ken somehow knew that she already knew that there was no way she could ever fuck him up. (She already did, anyway, literally and figuratively.) Not with how he looked at her, not with how he reached out to hold her hand, not with how he promptly turned his head to face the ceiling once she was turning to look at him. Perhaps, what she was looking for was the reassurance that he wouldn’t fuck her up. He squeezed her hand when the thought crossed his mind.

“I’ll still be your friend anyways,” he said, softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

A chuckle left her lips then. She didn’t let go of his hand as she moved to hover over him, replacing the twinkling manmade constellations in his sight. (He thought she was brighter than any star in the sky, anyway.) He raised his brow when he saw the mischievous glint in her eyes as she leaned down, her lips nearly closing in on his.

The grin she had on her face was enough to tell him she was up to no good. “Are you a masochist?”

“You–seriously?”

He might’ve groaned from annoyance, but the way her body shook with laughter on top of him was enough to make that godawful warmth bloom in his chest. He pulled her in for a kiss, though he wasn’t sure if it was to shut her up or if he just wanted to, and he thought that if anyone were to see them like this, no one would ever believe him if he told them that they were just best friends. Hell, everyone had enough of his answer whenever they asked him about it at school, and he was even picked on again at some point—but not for how he looked or talked. No, he was picked on for being her “best friend” because no matter how many people had tried to make her theirs, she kept coming back to him. But then they would find Ken making out with one of the cheerleaders under the bleachers and her sucking off some guy from the football team at some senior’s house party. It was confusing for everyone, but even more so for Ken, because every time she asked him to pick her up from God-knows-where, he would see red when she saw her huffing out a smoke, disheveled because of someone who was not him.

And, of course, like all fever dreams, he had to wake himself up from it.

“–Sato.”

Two things snapped Ken out of his trance then. First, it was the voice that called out to him, then it was the pain in his shoulder. Ken found himself standing on the batter box in Tokyo Dome, a bat in his hand, and his breath was ragged. The seats were empty, the sky was turning dark, and then he remembered that he was at practice. He was at practice, not on the porch at her old house in Los Angeles holding her close as she cried over that one guy who supposedly broke her heart. He was at practice, not at the frat party where he met her again for the first time after months of no contact and saw her giggling on the lap of some jock. He was at practice, not in front of the diner they used to go to almost every other day where he said awful things he didn’t mean and maybe, just maybe, that was the reason why she had left for Japan the next day. (She had waited for him to come to the airport, to at least apologize, but he never came. He had turned off his phone during practice.)

Ken sighed and lowered his bat, hissing when he rolled his left shoulder. He steadied his breathing and regained his composure before his eyes flickered to the field. His teammates were waiting for him to hit another ball so they could continue their fielding practice. Then, he turned to the one in front of him—Yoshida, right?—whose voice pulled him out of his train of thought. Yoshida raised his brow when he locked eyes with Ken.

“Are you distracted or something?”

It was his turn to frown. “What?”

“Are you distracted by the new girl or something? You kept looking back at the dugout earlier.”

Ken almost dropped his bat when he heard that, his neck turning so quickly that he was surprised he didn’t give himself a whiplash. “What?”

Yoshida nodded in the direction of the dugout, and Ken turned to look. His grip around the bat tightened as his eyes darted towards the dugout. Her back was facing the field, leaning against the metal fence that divided the field and the dugout. Her arms held a clipboard to her chest, and he could only see her side profile from where he was standing as she spoke with Coach Shimura. The two of them looked familiar already—he really didn’t know how she did it, given that he was still at odds with the coach, but it was so her, he thought, the way she could get along with all the people he couldn’t—as Coach Shimura was talking more expressively with her than he had ever seen him. She was nodding to whatever Coach Shimura was talking about with a smile on her face, one that didn’t reach her eyes, and he berated himself because why and how the fuck could you tell from this distance? Ken’s lips parted as Coach Shimura’s expression changed and nodded in his direction, and his breath hitched as he saw her turning slightly towards him.

Ken’s heart dropped as the smile on her face faltered, replaced by an unimpressed look and an air of disdain that made him shiver. The world seemed to stop right then and there; even when she looked at him as if he was the reason behind her suffering—which was probably true, to an extent—he couldn’t help but think of how beautiful she was. Even with the hint of blood between her slightly cracked lips and the dark circles under her eyes that she didn’t bother to hide with some concealer. Even with how she looked even paler than she was when they were still in Los Angeles and how her cheekbones seemed to protrude and her cheeks seemed more hollow. She was beautiful, yet she contrasted her old self, which bothered him so much that dread started to pool in his stomach. Ken knew her and would even say he knew too much of her. But, right at that moment, it was as if he was looking straight into a stranger’s eyes and not the pair he had fallen in love with, as if he was looking at the stuff of his nightmares and not the girl of his dreams, as if he had never known her at all.

(What if it was true?)

Ken pinched his arm, hard, and winced when the pain seared through his body and kickstarted another throbbing ache in his shoulder. None of the stuff of his fever dreams, the dread and peculiarity of it, should have been real. This was real. So, if this was real, then God must not only be fucking joking, but He must’ve been thoroughly fucking evil to be putting him through this.

“Oh, fuck.”

#bungee.doc #ken sato #kenji sato #ken sato x oc #kenji sato x oc #ken sato x reader #kenji sato x reader #ken sato fluff #ken sato smut #ken sato angst #kenji sato fluff #kenji sato smut #kenji sato angst #ultraman rising #ultraman

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sunnys-out · 1 year ago

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My Little Darling | Alessia Russo

A/N: Hey y'all sorry this took a while but work got busy and didn't get a chance to work on anything. My French is rusty so please be kind.

I still remember how you told me how you would always be there for me

Warnings: language, injury

Word count: 2298

Alessia and I had met at our first team meeting at UNC and it seemed that all the international students just gravitated together. The other girls got a kick out of the French accent that came out when I introduced myself in English to the rest of the team.

I was desperate for friends, as were the other international girls, so I found myself getting close with the English players, Lotte Wubben-Moy and Alessia Russo, who was half Italian too as I came to find out. I loved them even though they did poke fun at the fact that France didn’t make it to the U-17 World Cup…joked that we would’ve met sooner.

It was nice experiencing America with them and I found myself enjoying the little moments with the both of them, especially Alessia. I wouldn’t dare ruin a friendship that early, I mean why would she even be attracted to me…we had just met a month ago at that point in time.

A little quirk of mine is that I gave people nicknames, usually some animal but in French that reminded me of my teammates. Lotte, I fondly called, hibou or owl. You got to admit it when she is all focused and everything when she is at the defensive line her eyes narrow like a little owl.

I hadn’t given one to Alessia only calling her Less, Lessie, Ali, or just simply Russo. She noticed, of course, pushing when the three of us were having a movie night at my dorm room.

“Why don’t I have a nickname?” Alessia poked my shoulder as we had just put on a random comedy on Netflix to watch. We were procrastinating on essays we had to all write for the same class but hey it was due in a week so we had time.

I furrow my eyebrows with confusion, “What? You have a nickname, I call you Less, Lessie, sometimes Ali…” I poke her back “Soooo, technically you have more than one”

Alessia let out a huff as she got comfortable and laid her head on my shoulder as Lotte also got comfortable on the other side of me.

“No, I meant a french nickname, like Lotte has one…do you not like me?” Alessia pouted as she looked up to me feigning sadness.

I roll my eyes and look at Lotte on the other side of me, “Ma petite hibou, can you believe her? She thinks I don’t like her…as if we are not watching a movie in my dormitory”. This earned a laugh from the other English girl.

Alessia lifted her head and pushed my shoulder, “See, you call her “Your little owl”, when can I get a cute nickname like that?”

Lotte raised her head, “wait, is that what that means? You calling me an owl?” I completely ignored her.

“Less, it just hasn’t come to me yet…but you keep yapping about it…I’ll call you canard, which is duck by the way”. A laugh escaped me before I finished the sentence as Alessia gave up and leaned her head back on my shoulder as we continued to watch the movie.

______________________________________________________________

Love is weird…yeah, I would say so. When I was Alessia there was a calmness that I couldn’t compare with Lotte. Don’t get me wrong I love ma petit hibou, but Alessia was different.

She’s driven and she always had this look in her eyes that only held a certain softness when she was looking at me.

She was there for me when I got my call-up for the French U-20 team just how our coaches had predicted.

Lotte couldn’t make it to our regular weekly movie night in my dorm but encouraged Alessia and I to “not do it because of her”.

We had finished the movie an hour ago and now were on some random episode of Stranger things. Alessia had migrated from leaning her head on my shoulder, as she always did, to laying her head on my lap, my finger gently combing her hair without a care in the world.

It was soothing and then my phone began vibrating in my pocket.

“Allo?, oui c’est elle. Oui…ah Merci, oui merci pour l'opportunité, c’est un honneur pour moi! Oui merci, …alors…. quoi…quoi, merci…au revoir” (hello?, yes this is she, yes...ah thank you, yes thank you for the opportunity, it's an honor for me. Yes thank you...so...yes..yes...thank you.. goodbye)

Alessia had rolled over to look up at me and giggled, “so I only got ‘thank you’ from all that…who was that?”

I couldn’t stop smiling, “I got called up for the French U-20 team! Can you believe that?”

Alessia immediately got up and with a smile grabbed both sides of my face, “That’s amazing and of course I fucking believe that!”

All thoughts I had in that moment disappeared, I mean how could I even think when my whole world was in front of me. Alessia’s laugh broke me from my trance.

“Well, now I got to get called up for England, then we’ll be rivals..isn’t that absolutely wild” one of her thumbs now gently caressing my cheek.

I lean into her caress, “Alessia, what are you thinking about?”

She tilts her head, as if she was observing my face to see how I will react.

“I’m thinking of how proud I am of you, really I am…and um..of…how much I want to kiss you right now”.

Alessia laughs as she feels my cheeks heat up in hands and my eyes widen.

“Well can I?” She asks as she pulls me closer.

With only a nod from me, Alessia brings her soft lips to mine. I had dreamed of doing that for so long that again my mind was empty yet filled with everything.

As she pulled back, her forehead resting against mine she whispered,

“No matter what happens…whatever this becomes, I’ll always be there for you” her fingers threading my hair as she continued to look at me.

“Ma petit chou, that’s your nickname…my little darling…no matter what happens you will always be that” I said quietly as I brought her in for another kiss.

24 August 2018

With another thud to the ground and frustrated groan, I swatted away any hands that attempted to assist me as I got up for probably the fourth time that game, not getting any cards given to the players knocking me down including once from Alessia. She gave me a gentle sorry as she helped me up even though I turned her down initially. I wanted to play against England in the final but it seems we both found ourselves fighting for 3rd place. Alessia and I hadn’t texted since the competition started and maybe only had a phone call here and there. The only time I saw her in person was right there in the tunnel before the start of the game.

We were losing 1-0 and we were desperately trying to equalize, which meant I was pushing more up the field than usual.

I was frustrated…justifiably…so I pushed even harder. I just did not expect to be taken down in the box. I lay face down gasping for any sort of air to return to me after the impact. Groaning also at the sting and sharp soreness near my right knee. The whistle from the referee signaling a penalty for my fall returned me to reality.

“Hey, you alright?” I heard muffled and a gentle touch to my face that I immediately recognized as Alessia. Her tone worried as she grabbed my hand.

“Hey, hey, baby…I’m here ok? I’m here” I felt her hand gently holding mine as I finally was able to breathe slowly.

“Merde, elle saigne, médecin! (Shit, she’s bleeding, medic!)” I heard one of my teammates yell.

As the medics approached to wrap up my knee from the scrape, I felt Alessia’s hand leave mine.

The penalty went in and we equalized. The energy was back but it didn’t end the way we wanted. Penalty shoot outs were never my favorite. Mine went in and Alessia’s didn’t but it didn’t matter what I did because we lost in the end.

I remained sitting on the field feeling disappointed that I couldn’t have done more to at least get 3rd place.

I felt a familiar weight on my shoulder and a gentle hand grab mine.

“Hey..” Alessia said quietly as she heard the sniffle come from me.

“Hey…ma petit chou” I look at her with a sad smile, tears threatening to fall as I leaned my head on hers.

“I’m so proud of you, you know?” she said interlacing her fingers with mine.

I only nod as the tears fall, “go celebrate, I’ll be ok”

Alessia laughed a little as she shook her head, “no, I told you, I’d be there for you…even now…they can celebrate without me”.

Media reported the pictures of Alessia and I on the field as a showing of support between two UNC teammates…Lotte would tease us upon our return and would yell “what a lovely showing between teammates” whenever Alessia and I would hold hands.

______________________________________________________________________________

I was called up to the senior French team in 2019 and was able to play in my first World Cup. Alessia and Lotte watched from afar still participating in our university team while I was away.

After the loss against the US eliminating us from the World Cup, I returned to ma petit chou who was waiting in my apartment with a cozy blanket and warm chocolate chip cookies from McDonald’s all set up for me. I wasn’t one to immediately tear up at a sight but the moment I entered the dimly lit apartment I couldn’t hold back.

Alessia loves deeply is what I came to discover and being close to the person she loved was important to her. It was important for me too. We both agreed that we wanted to keep our relationship to ourselves and not really post about it. We played together and lost together. I was there for her injury and she was there for mine. Which is why is was so hard to leave her.

2020 was filled with uncertainty especially because of COVID. Alessia and I were planning on leaving UNC along with Lotte to pursue a career back in Europe. Alessia went to Man United and Lotte went to Aresenal leaving me to go to Lyon.

I won’t say that we didn’t try the distance but it became too much for us especially with our budding careers in our respecting countries. We stopped the relationship with a promise of keeping in touch whenever we could…we didn’t.

A secret relationship remained a secret to the fans and the general public. We were former university teammates just liking each other's posts and commenting a blue heart every so often. It never went past that. The 2022 Euros came and went…an awkward “congratulations on the Euro win” was sent, read and not replied to. I mean I wouldn’t have… so I don’t blame her since the last message between us was from 2020.

______________________________________________________________

I never handled injuries well…I isolated myself and Alessia was always there to accompany me. Since we separated, I hadn’t had a serious injury until 2023.

I knew I should’ve rested during after starting in every game in the group stages…I should’ve listened to my teammates but I didn’t want a repeat of 2019 with Australia.

Sometimes you just know…as soon as I hit the ground in the latter part of the second half…I knew it was THAT tear. I laid there as the tears fell as the pain set in, desperately trying to find a hand to hold but only finding grass…

I don’t remember being put on the stretcher or anything that was said to me…nothing was familiar to me. They confirmed that it was a tear and I would be heading out back to Lyon to get the surgery and recover there. It didn’t matter really, we ended up losing in penalties…funny how history repeats itself…only difference was Alessia wasn’t there.

______________________________________________________________

I remained in my hotel room, turning away any of my teammates who tried to stay with me…I just wanted to be alone…

I saw the result of the England/Colombia game and went through my phone until I found her number. It went straight to voicemail…

“Hey ma petit chou, congratulations on the win and getting a goal…I-uh…miss you a lot especially now. I don’t know if you saw but its an ACL tear and I’m cooped up in my hotel room…I still remember how you told me how you would always be there for me and-”

I choke back the tears threatening to fall but the pause was telling enough. “I just really need to hear you right now, so give me a call back because I do miss you and I can’t do this without you.”

I end the call, immediately regretting my decision. I close my eyes hoping that the pain medication would kick in and I dont know how long I was out before I heard someone enter my hotel room.

I groan at the source of the noise

“Go away” I wave my hand to whomever entered.

I stop immediately once I hear her small laugh.

“Well, I can’t possibly eat these cookies all on my own now can I?” I open my eyes and see Alessia with a small box of cookies. My face softened and my arms beckoned her to come to me.

She gently held me like she always had and caressed my cheek wiping away the tears that had begun to fall

“Hey…I’m here now” is all she whispered…oh how I missed my little darling.

#engwnt x reader #woso x reader #arsenal women #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo imagine

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queenofallimagines · 8 months ago

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hi there!! may i ask some obey me hcs where mc is a professional volleyball player (like of they would watch her tems matchs, how they cheer and things like that) and has a personality like oikawa when she's not playing, but turn into a queen of the court (like kageyama 🕺) when playing? tysm!

A/n: I’m literally so mad I didn’t see this b4 bc I’m watching the haikyuu movie sobbing over karasuno VS nekoma😫 but absolutely! Also I noticed how this got more nsfw closer to the end😭 couldn’t help it😔

Lucifer:

- impressed

- He did think you had a nice body when he first saw you

- But then he hears your trying out for the RAD volleyball team?

- Poor human can’t stand on the same court against literal demons??

- Is what he thought

- He sees Beel ecstatic about your first game and he’s hyping you up sm

- Lucifer goes bc if you get heir he will step in to defend you

- Yk when hinata does his thing and the whole stadiums jaws drop?

- That’s WHAT HAPPENED HERE

- He sees you effortlessly setting to your teammates like you rly are running this show

- Made you captain at tryouts bc hell yeah!!

- They call you the demon Ruler of the court fr

- Imagine being so cocky and prideful and then getting home and being like all chill and regular chaotic

- He thinks your cheating real BAD

- He can’t play but he’s like nah okay against me you can use no spells

- Asmo is making cute merch to wear to your games

- Levi has already watched all your tapes form the human world he’s a expert and he’s never seen a volleyball before

- When you wipe the floor w him he’s like okay,,, maybe you are just that good

- That speed and serve is something dangerous

- When you get his pact he’s at EVERY game

- The way he can feel the pride running through you when you play, and the smirk on your face sends a chill up your spine when you look down on the other team

- He can and will have his hands all over you after a game

- Sorry like he’s euphoric the whole time it’s like edging almost

- Can’t deny how you look in your tight uniform is very appealing too

- Asmo too he can feel the lust for you in the room and he’s LOVING IT

- Brags whew he he gets the chance

Mammon:

- yeah he’s placing bets

- He comes to see you at practice because he skipped class and he knows if he shows up at home without you he’s in trouble

- So he does to idle around

- Jaw literally drops when he sees you obliterate the other side of the court

- Feels greed burning in him and can’t tell if it’s him or you

- The drive to win radiating off of you in waves

- It’s overwhelming

- “When we’re us g’unna tell me you can do THAT?!”

- “You never asked.”

- Lucifer feels a chill when mammon asks you if he can place bets on you winning

- Shows up to every game

- WILL oversee merch sales

- Has a jersey of yours he wears to sleep

- Runs the Stan page w asmo

- Will make sure your gear is in tip-top shape

- Brings you snacks before and after practice

- You think it’s all financially motivated and like 70% is but he’s like so happy and proud of you

- Right w Beel cheering the loudest at your games

- Nobody can even say anything bad bc he will argue them DOWN

- Buys all your jerseys and then saves all the tickets to your games

- Will show up w flowers

- Also sneaks from class to your practices bc he is a SUCKER for that volleyball shorts and knee pad combo

- Watches your games on replay

- Seems like the type to jack off to your games too

- Biggest hype man and will give you a ‘reward’ if you play extra hard during a game

Levi:

- he likes sports anime

- And probably will compete in a swimming event at some school festival bc duh

- But he hears Beel and mammon gushing over you play sports and is like okay well my Henry is so talented but whatever

- Almost died when you come home all sweaty and tired from practice like oop

- Suddenly binge watching every volleyball anime there IS

- Might as well be your coach

- Applies to be manager but like he’s one of the seven lord of hell lmao who’s gunna tell Levi no??

- Yall are kiyoko and Tanaka

- Very cute

- Also wearing merch w asmo they made

- Gets patches of your number to put on his everyday jacket

- Also wears your jersey to sleep

- ALSO ALSO a sucker for them volleyball fits

- Makes sure you’re always hydrated and the gym is the perfect temperature to play games in

- Guilty pleasure is that he really likes seeing you sweaty and panting

- Way how’s your games the way oikawa watches other teams to see how they play

- Actually good at making strategies and figuring out the letters in other teams

- Wants you to teach him to play

- Not bc he wants too but bc you’ll have to help adjust his posture and he can see you spike a lot

- Gets a thrill off of feeling the small bit of envy you feel when you see another good team or they manage to score on you

- Mayyyyyy encourage a little more envy bc you spike the ball even harder and you glare even more

- Yknow he has a thing for you to be mean

- So he’s like biting his lips hearing you trash talk the other team

- Also like mammon where he will have recordings of your games to jack off too

- “You pathetic worm know your place”

- He’s never moaned louder

Satan:

- reads books on Volleyball

- Likes to be wellread and can impress you with terms

- Hears Beel be excited and sneaks off to see you practice

- Slides in slick compliments

- He’s cheeky to a fault

- “I have to ask, do you like volleyball for the adrenaline or is it for the cute outfit?”

- Tease him because he’s not even good at hiding that he’s looking

- “I don’t know. So you like coming to my games to watch me win or stare at my ass?”

- The cat was too stunned to speak

- Chose to come to your games because he was at home alone while everyone else was at your game

- And he was doing some ‘Self Care’

- And he got this lighting bolt of please up his spine

- Needless to say he made quite of a mess

- Hears everyone hyping you up when they come back

- “Remind me to never make ya mad okay MC?”

- “I would!~ the way they were glaring after they slammed the ball down made my heart flutter.”

- Had to go see what the fuss was for himself

- The grunts and yells are really making him hot under the collar

- Used your game tickets as bookmarks

- It makes him smile

- He’s such a tween girl in love he’ll like decorate them in his spare time like maybe press flowers and glue them on encasing it all in resin

- Heart eyes

- Giggles at your trash talk

- Loves seeing you fr have beef w people

- Setters for some reason always have beef during a game idk WHAT IT IS but like they all was glaring daggers

- He’s deeply interested in the setter beef

- “So what’s the story with you and that other setter👀 I could feel a little tension in the air.”

- My hc is that his pact mark is always on your dominant fist

- Bc like yknow punching

- So he feels the sting of your hand when you hit the ball and he rly likes it

- Will offer to massage you after a game when you’re all tired

- An excuse to get nasty and he will spank you w the same hand

- Sigh he can’t help himself unfortunately

Asmo:

- Oh he’s hype

- He’s not one for playing sports

- Buuuuut he does like the appeal of the slutty outfits and seeing people be all aggressive and sweaty

- So when he hears Beel mention you’re tying out for the team he’s immediately intrigued

- He’s probably an honesty cheerleader

- So he’s going to be there dressed to the 9 in YOUR colors every game

- Like not the school colors he’s dripped out in your signature color schemes

- Even somehow gets ahold of an old jersey from the human world and rules it in many outfits

- Brags to people that he has one and it’s signed(pls sign it for him)

- Wears earrings w your number and name on it

- That trope where the head cheerleader kisses the star player bc they’re dating after the game is very him

- Puts in his cutest lipgloss and kisses your cheek

- “Well if it’s you I don’t mind getting all sweaty and out of breath with you~”

- Like I said before he’s feeling off the lust for you in the air

- The lust his brothers feel, the audience, your lust for winning

- He’s intoxicated by it

- He feels his pact mark pulsing and it makes him giggle

- You’d think he’s tickled pink

- But he’s laughing bc he’s about to go crazy after this mf game

- Is hyper focus on how your outfit stretches over you when you move

- Watches you work out

- Bc like let’s be real he’s down to mess round in the gym showers

- Another one to give you a nice ‘Reward’ for playing so well

- Has all these suspiciously seductive pictures of you playing like when did he even take this picture of you bending over??

- Can’t help but to let his hands wander

- Instead of having a jersey to sleep in he will sleep in your whole uniform

- Like you’re looking for it in the morning to go to practice and he’s sleeping in it

- “Well not it smells like me!”

- Sigh

- Well want to get nasty in it but he’s torn between you in it or him in it

- Hardest decision in your life

- Asmo and Levi decked out in your merch and Levi stalks the Stan pages for the best pictures and asmo runs like 3 of em

Beel:

- my beautiful beloved!

- You come meet him at fangol practice and ask him if they have any other sports

- He mentions offhandedly that the volleyball team is doing tryouts for the new season and you’re like 👀 bet let’s see how yall play

- Comes with you to make sure you don’t get like picked on or anything

- Amazed by seeing what you can do and how confident you get

- Went from like shy brand new human to being the demon ruler of the court he’s so hyped

- “MC where did you learn to do that??”

- “Hard work and a lot of spite✨”

- If anyone got something to say no tf they don’t bc he’s your bodyguard

- Makes sure your games aren’t scheduled at the same time bc he’s not missing your games

- Enjoying your games when he feels a familiar feeling of hunger

- He heard all the other brothers talking about their pact marks feeling funny but he’s like meh

- Starts thinking that maybe you didn’t eat enough before the game

- But when he sees you smiling as your team wins he understands

- That gluttony you feel isn’t towards food but volleyball

- Huh. Interesting

- Not one to immediately get nasty after a game he will want to treat you to snacks first but he mayyyy want to help you get charged after practice

- I mean like you’re exhausted and your muscles are all sore like it’s totally innocent!!

- Wears your jersey number as a patch on his jacket

- But also would have a cute necklace w the number on it like right along w his gold chain

- Whew

- Dangles over your face when he fucks you

- He’s glad you both can workout together 🥰

Belphegor:

- sleepy

- Not really interested in sports

- But he goes to heels games to cheer him on

- Beel drags him to a game of yours

- Likes how hot you look playing

- Like Satan will make comments about the outfit

- “Are you sure the shorts are supposed to be that short?”

- “They don’t restrict my movement”

- “Hm…. Good to know.”

- Another who steals your jersey and sleeps in it

- Might put it over a pillow to sleep on

- Lazily wants to hold you after a game night

- “Mmmm just rest, you’ve done so much moving around relax with me.”

- Sweeps you into sweet dreams whether you want to sleep or not

- Will have his own wet dreams about you in your outfit

- Will go to the game and cheer with asmo to hype you up

- Likes seeing you set the ball to your teammates and how you can read their minds and direct the game

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gamicsinstituteindia · 1 year ago

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toychest321 · 8 months ago

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With the end of Ramadan rapidly approaching, I'd like to give attention to another Muslim doll line. Though unlike the others, this one is far less obscure...

You know them, you love them, give it up for the Arabian Friends!!!

While Fulla is objectively more popular than Arabian Friends (having a longer span of releases and merchandise), I'd definitely say Arabian Friends are more talked about in western doll collecting circles. This is likely because while all the other Muslim doll lines I've found use Barbie proportions, these moreso resemble Winx or W.I.T.C.H.

Arabian Friends were released by Newboy, the company behind Fulla, in 2007. They were first teased in issues 08 and 10 of Fulla Magazine, before being officially revealed in issues 11 and 14 (the latter seen above).

Only 8 dolls in total have been released for the line: a Deluxe and a Budget doll for each of the four characters. The Deluxe sets came with two outfits, accessories, and an Abaya. The Budget sets came with one outfit and a matching Hijab. Each doll had 7 points of articulation, with bend-and-snap knees.

A third line was announced in 2008 in Fulla Magazine issue 19, advertising that whoever could answer which character had which profession would enter a raffle with the chance to receive a full Arabian Friends collection, but this ultimately never came to pass. (The answers were: Muna - Fashion Designer, Amal - Kids' Teacher, Dunya - Coach, and Ahlam - Air Hostess)

It's said on Dollect there might have been an accompanying animated series, but the most I was able to find were two videos. One seems to be a trailer for the animated series.

youtube

The other includes a Back To School merchandise advertisement, and what might be an animation where the girls reminisce on when they were younger and how their aspirations led to their respective careers (the trailer seems to re-use animation from both of these).

youtube

A comment beneath the Trailer claims these were actually meant to advertise for an upcoming movie rather than a series, but no further news came out after these videos were released. If this is true it's honestly a shame, and might have been cancelled around when the third series was intended to release. The animation provided reminds me of Sailor Moon, and I would've loved to see it in a full storyline!

First character up is Amal, whose name means "Hope"! Her description reads:

"Never forget that hope is the key that opens all closed doors. With hope in your heart you will never be alone and nothing in life will seem impossible.."

Amal reminds me the most of Usagi from Sailor Moon, as the animation seems to portray her personality as being kind yet clumsy. It's ironic that she eventually becomes a schoolteacher as well, considering she apparently had a habit of arriving to classes late. She's also seen tucking a child into bed, so perhaps she's a mother, older sister, or aunt as well?

While depicted in the animation as having honey blonde hair, her doll has dirty blonde hair in two low pigtails (possibly tied by pink ribbon or thread). And ironically, despite her Deluxe doll using more patterns than her friends, her Budget doll is the only one without a patterned shirt.

Next is Muna, whose name means "Wish". Her description reads:

"Wishes are like bright stars in a dark sky although they are only small they fill our lives with happiness and make the darkness beautiful."

Muna is a Fashion Designer with an eye for intricate design and detail. She spends a good amount of time in her studio, seen drawing on her friend's leg cast and her highschool classroom's chalkboard. At one point, Muna is also seen helping an elderly woman across the street, so clearly her devotion to her work doesn't stop her from being charitable when she can be!

Her fashion style in both doll and animated form definitely seems the most bold out of her friends, reminding me of when 2000s-era fashion would draw inspiration from the 70s! While in the animation she and Dunya were depicted with tanned olive skin, their dolls have the same skintone as Amal and Ahlam. She has brown hair with red highlights. In the animation her hair was often depicted with side part bangs and a headband. However, her Deluxe doll has a red beanie, and her Budget doll has a middle part with braids coming down on either side of her head.

Ahlam's name means "Dreams". Her description reads:

"Dreams are like beautiful butterflies that fly in the wide blue sky. It is good to have dreams because they take you to a place where anything is possible.."

Ahlam is apparently a pianist in addition to her Air Hostess job, having dreamt of flying since she was in school. She seems to be portrayed as considerate and low-key, which aligns with her cool blue color scheme!

Her doll's fashion style seems to be Boho Chic, with beads, frills, and florals. In the animation her hair is short, with a side part and a blue butterfly barrette. Her doll, meanwhile, wears her black and blue hair beneath a navy cap in her Deluxe look, and a middle part tied back in her Budget look. Visually, she reminds me of Ami Mizuno!

And last but not least, Dunya! Her name means "Life", and her description reads:

"Your friendship is like a beautiful flower to me. Your nice words, kind deeds and positive attitude are sure to be rewarded with happiness and love.."

Dunya seems to be a healthy eater, going to someone's house with a bowl of greens (salad or kale perhaps?), and making a smoothie while on the phone. She also does stretches and runs on her treadmill. All of this makes her the perfect fit for a coaching position!

Weirdly enough, her hairstyle in the animation is exactly like Amal's doll, with two low pigtails tied by pink ribbon. Her doll, meanwhile, has brown hair in a side part tied in a high pony with silver elastics (giving me Vidia vibes tbh). Her olive green fashion seems to be relatively modern (at least for the 2000s) and urban. Her clothes are the ones I can most easily see on a Bratz doll!

Overall, I simply adore this line!!! It feels more character-focused than other ones I've covered, and I'm a sucker for such strong color-blocking! It's hard for me to even pick a favorite, since their centralized aesthetics are all so compelling and unique! If anyone who knows Arabic would be able to translate what they say in the animations, I'll happily add an addendum to this post for clarification!

It's a shame the line and its movie was cancelled before it could receive the acclaim it deserved, I would've loved to see what more it had to offer! Regardless, I'm thoroughly impressed with what they managed to put out, and hope the designers have been able to apply their clear talents in other endeavors!

Ramadan Kareem!

#dolls #dollblr #muslim dolls #arabian friends dolls

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thedemoninme141 · 2 months ago

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Her Heartbeat, Chapter 4: Her Walls.

Summary: The therapy session is torture for Wednesday, made even worse by the fact that you seem to enjoy it.

Warnings: NONE STILL NOT IN A MOOD TO BRING THE ANGST!!!!

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Wednesday fully expected you to be insufferable during the maths class. She braced herself for your annoying chatter, the constant whining about how boring the class was, and pointless attempts to get her attention. But to her surprise, you were... tolerable.

A part of her kept glancing at you, expecting something, waiting for you to break the silence and turn back to throw some insipid remark her way. But you never did. Instead, your head remained down, taking notes as if nothing else existed in the world but the math equations she learned years ago.

It felt.. weird.. Wednesday couldn't understand it.

After class, Wednesday didn’t see you. Of course, your schedule was different. She was relieved, or at least, she told herself she was. Other students, having witnessed her outburst in the quad, avoided her path as if she were a rabid animal. Good. She preferred it that way.

Still, as she walked into fencing class, she couldn’t help but notice Bianca’s absence. Pathetic. Bianca could’ve at least tried to channel her anger into something productive, like giving Wednesday a real challenge. Instead, she chose self-pity. It was disappointing, really. But there was another problem: none of the other students wanted to spar with her either. Even the coach didn’t bother forcing anyone to step up. So Wednesday sat through the entire class, watching others clumsily clash swords, her grip tightening on her sabre with each passing second. She’s going to maim Bianca next time they’re in the same room.

By the time she returned to her room, she felt a strange, simmering tension in her chest. She washed up, as usual, but for some reason, she found herself standing in front of Enid’s mirror, checking her appearance. Why? Why did it even matter? Annoyed with herself, she forced her mind back to the present.

It's time for torture and not the good kind.

When she arrived at the therapy building, she saw you leaning against the wall outside, cheap headphones covering your ears. Your eyes were closed as you hummed softly, lost in your own little world. Wednesday’s gaze lingered on you longer than it should have. She took in every detail—the way your lips moved ever so slightly with the melody, the way your fingers tapped gently against your leg in rhythm, the faint smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

The sound of your humming... it did something to her. She couldn’t place the feeling. But there it was again, like an itch she couldn’t quite scratch. “Hey,” you greeted, pulling your headphones off. “So, what’s the plan for today’s therapy session? Maybe you can tell me more about how much you don’t care.” Wednesday gritted her teeth. "The plan is for you to sit quietly and not bother me." You chuckled, clearly not taking her seriously. “Got it. This is going to be fun.”

David beamed and clapped his hands. "Wednesday! Finally found a partner, huh? That’s great! I’m so proud of you! The first step is always finding a friend." Wednesday’s eyes darkened, and she shot him a deadpan stare. “If I were you, I wouldn’t confuse necessity with friendship. We’re not going to hold hands and braid each other's hair.” David's smile remained annoyingly the same, “Well, you know, every relationship starts somewhere!” Wednesday muttered something unintelligible under her breath, most likely about wishing she could bury him somewhere. You stood beside her, fighting the urge to laugh at the interaction. Your lips curled into a smirk, and you elbowed Wednesday lightly. "See, he's already proud of you. That's progress!" “Be silent, or I will make you regret ever breathing,” Wednesday hissed in return, but you just chuckled. David’s smile was still the same, "Well! Let’s get started, everyone!"

The room was already filled with other unfortunate souls, each paired off with their so-called “partners.” They all sat in a circle, as though that would somehow make this agonizing process more bearable. “Alright, everyone’s here, so let’s get started!” David said, clapping his hands together. “Today’s session is all about why we chose our therapy partners. The person who’s helping us on our journey to be better, more balanced people. Alex, why don’t you go first?” Alex scratched the back of his head awkwardly. “Uh, yeah, so, Milo’s, like, my best friend, y’know? He helps me not punch walls when I’m mad at my dad. He’s super chill and doesn’t, like, ask too many questions. That’s why I picked him.” Milo just nodded, looking half asleep. “Yeah. We vibe.”

Wednesday felt the beginnings of a headache coming on. She glanced at you, expecting to see a similar expression of exasperation, but instead, you were trying (and failing) to stifle your laughter.

David nodded with excessive enthusiasm. “That’s wonderful, Alex! Learning to control our impulses is such an important step. Okay, Rick, your turn.” “Well, I chose Ashley because I know where she hid the body,” Rick said casually, causing Ashley to elbow him sharply in the ribs. The room went silent, everyone staring at them. Wednesday's interest piqued for the first time since arriving. Congratulations, you are hired. David, slightly flustered, cleared his throat. “I... I think we’re going to pretend we didn’t hear that, Moving on! Brooke, how about you?” Brooke, a girl with bright pink hair, clasped her hands together dramatically. “I chose Mike because... because I believe we’re destined to help each other. You know, like twilight.” Mike blinked at her, clearly bewildered. “You met me like, ten minutes ago.” “Exactly! Fate.” Brooke grinned widely, completely unbothered by Mike’s confusion.

Wednesday facepalmed, wishing the earth would open up and swallow her whole before this circus of a session continued.

“Okay, Carl and Eddie, how about you?” David asked, his enthusiasm unshaken. “I chose Eddie because... well... he’s my cousin. And our family said if we don’t start ‘working on our issues,’ they’ll stop letting us come to Thanksgiving.” Eddie nodded solemnly. “Can’t lose the turkey, man.”

Wednesday clenched her fists, trying to maintain her composure. This was, without a doubt, the worst form of torture she’d ever endured. Worse than Bianca. Worse than Enid’s surprise hugs. Worse than your smile— “And last but not least, Wednesday and Y/n,” David chirped, turning to her expectantly. “Tell us why you chose your partner!” Wednesday groaned, already dreading this. She didn’t choose you. She got stuck with you, and that was an entirely different situation. Not that it mattered. David would twist it into some sick, heartwarming story about growth and friendship. “I helped her kidn—” You quickly cut Wednesday off “She helped me take care of my brother’s kids. So, I’m helping her in return.” The room fell silent. Wednesday’s eyes snapped toward you, narrowing dangerously. Taking care of kids? That was your excuse? Of all the ridiculous things you could’ve said, that was what you went with? And yet, somehow, it worked. The group nodded as if you’d just revealed some profound truth. David, predictably, beamed. “That’s wonderful! Helping each other is exactly what this program is about!” Wednesday’s jaw clenched. She hated this. She hated the entire scenario. But what she hated most was how easily you had manipulated the situation. How easily you had turned the group’s attention in your favor. You were playing a game—a game she was determined not to lose. You leaned back in your chair, clearly enjoying yourself. Wednesday shot you a look that could’ve killed, but you merely smirked. You are insufferable, she thought, her irritation reaching new heights. And then, as if things couldn’t get worse, David announced the next activity: a communication exercise.

This day just keeps getting better.

The collective groan that echoed through the room was almost palpable. Even the most upbeat participants looked deflated. Wednesday, however, remained silent, though her jaw clenched slightly at the thought of partaking in this ridiculous charade. David, as usual, didn’t notice the room's resistance. He pressed on, walking over to the whiteboard and scribbling “Empathy is Key” in bold, enthusiastic letters. “Remember, it’s all about empathy! We’re learning to understand each other better, to grow emotionally, to have control over our emotions, to understand other's emotions and to support our partners in their personal journeys.” You leaned over toward Wednesday and whispered "This must be your favorite part." Before Wednesday could reply with the dark retort brewing in her mind, David began calling out pairs to start the exercise. "Alright, let’s have Rick and Ashley go first. Rick, why don’t you tell us about a recent challenge you’ve faced?" Rick, still smirking from his earlier comment about the hidden body, shrugged. “I dunno. I guess I’m struggling with how to keep my drug selling a secret from my mom.” David shot him a look, clearly unsure whether or not he was joking. “Okay, maybe let’s keep it a little more… grounded, Rick. Something real, something you’ve been working through emotionally.” Rick rolled his eyes but finally relented. “Fine, fine. I guess it’s dealing with my anger issues. Like, I tend to fly off the handle whenever I get stressed out at school, and I took it out on my mom the other day. I didn’t mean to, but I just snapped, and now I feel kind of guilty about it.” David nodded, his smile now one of understanding. “That’s a great start, Rick. Now, Ashley, how do you think Rick felt in that moment?” Ashley, who had been mostly silent up to this point, glanced nervously at Rick before speaking softly. “I think... I think he felt frustrated and maybe overwhelmed. Like, he didn’t know how to deal with the pressure, so he lashed out.”

David beamed. “Exactly! It’s about understanding where the other person is coming from. Well done, both of you!”

Wednesday groaned inwardly. What's next? Group hugs?

One by one, each pair shared their challenges. Most of the stories were mundane—failed tests, fights with siblings, petty grievances about social media. But Wednesday barely paid attention. Instead, she was counting down the seconds until it would be over.

And then, it was your turn.

David turned to you with that same eager expression he’d had since the beginning. “Alright, Y/N and Wednesday! Who wants to go first?”

You gave Wednesday a playful nudge. “Ladies first?” Wednesday shot you a cold glare, her fingers tightening around the edge of her chair. “No. You will go first. I refuse to partake in this farce until absolutely necessary.” You chuckled but didn’t argue. “Alright, alright.” You turned to David, scratching the back of your head as you thought for a moment. “A challenge I’ve faced recently, huh? Well, I guess... it’s been trying to balance everything. You know, school, family stuff, and figuring out what I’m supposed to be doing with my life. It feels like everything’s happening at once and... everything is going extremely fast." David nodded sympathetically. “That’s a very real struggle, Y/N. It’s common to feel overwhelmed when there’s so much happening at once. Wednesday, how do you think Y/N felt in that moment?”

Wednesday stared at you, her expression unreadable. She didn’t want to indulge in this ridiculous exercise, but she knew David wouldn’t let them leave until they participated. So, she took a slow breath and answered, her tone flat and clinical.

“You felt lost,” she said simply. “Like you were being pulled in different directions, unsure of which path to take. You hate having pressure, having to choose between two things, I won't say it's selfishness, it's curiosity."

You blinked, slightly taken aback by the accuracy of her response. For a moment, there was a flicker of something between you- something in Wednesday's eyes that you couldn't catch.

Wednesday’s walls went up again, and her gaze hardened.

David’s eyes widened, clearly impressed. “Wow, Wednesday! That was... really insightful! You nailed it.”

“I only said what was obvious,” she muttered, crossing her arms.

David, clearly overjoyed by how “well” the exercise had gone, clapped his hands together again. “That was fantastic, everyone! Great job today. I think we’re really making progress. I have to go out of town tomorrow so gonna have to move our schedule" Finally some good news. "Don't worry, something special awaits then." OF COURSE "Also, it will be the other person’s turn to discuss their recent challenge next.” He glanced pointedly at Wednesday, who sighed inwardly.

You stood up, stretching lazily before turning to Wednesday with a grin. “They are kinda.. umm.. different.” Wednesday stared at you blankly. “I’m considering taking out a restraining order on every single person in this room.” You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re fun, you know that?” “I am not fun,” Wednesday spat, clearly disgusted by the notion. You laughed, clearly enjoying her irritation. “Come on, it wasn’t that bad. Besides, you did pretty well. You’re good at reading people.” Wednesday rolled her eyes. “Reading people is easy. Dealing with them is the real challenge.” You raised an eyebrow, that familiar smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. “Is that your way of saying I’m a challenge?” Wednesday glared at you, she felt something inside, something she wasn’t ready to acknowledge yet. “You are an inconvenience. One that I intend to rectify.” You chuckled again. “Well, I’ll take that as a compliment."

As you both stepped out of the therapy building, you took a deep breath, savoring the brief moment of freedom from the exhausting session. Wednesday walked beside you, her silence heavy but not unwelcome. Without thinking too much, you broke the silence. "Hey, want to grab a coffee?" Wednesday stopped in her tracks, her dark eyes narrowing as she turned to face you. “What is with you?” You blinked, confused by her sudden sharpness. “What?” “This.” She waved a hand between you. “All this. You trying to spend time with me. Your part is just the therapy, so why do you keep pushing for more?” Her question caught you off guard. You hadn’t expected her to be so direct about it. There was an answer you could give, one you weren’t quite ready to say aloud yet, but you couldn’t let the silence stretch too long. “I didn’t mean to offend you with my forwardness,” you began, choosing your words carefully. “I just wanted to get to know you, since we barely had the chance since yesterday.” “Why? Why do you want to know me? What is your real intention?” “Wednesday...” you sighed, searching for the right words. “People can get close to you without any real intention, you know?” “No. They always have an intention. Tyler did.” The name felt heavy, and for a moment, there was a glint of something in her expression—bitterness. “The sheriff’s boy from Weathervane Café?” you asked, “He always gave me the creeps. What’s with him though? I heard he was the monster killing people in the woods. Was he close?” “He tried to court me.” You winced. “Gee, you have a taste.” Wednesday rolled her eyes, her irritation palpable. “I didn’t know he was the Hyde then, idiot.” “Ah yes, the classic ‘your love interest is the killer all along.’” She shot you a glare. “What now?” “Nothing,” you waved it off. “Anyway, I can’t turn into a Hyde, but I do wish I could turn into a cat and sleep all day. Aaaand, you can give me some remark about how you’d rather drink acid than have coffee with me. I wouldn’t mind. I would just go for the coffee alone.” You turned and began walking away, pretending to dismiss the whole interaction casually. You could feel her eyes boring into the back of your head. What were you even doing? Pushing Wednesday like this? Wednesday wasn't even wrong, you did have an intention but it wasn’t something you could explain—at least, not yet.

After a few steps, you suddenly felt her presence beside you. Surprised, you glanced over at her.

“I am only going because I want to,” Wednesday muttered. “And you are paying for the coffee.”

Next Chapter [Sorry for the late update, Had to cook]

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