#i thought he was ridiculous when he bought this for me but he was right | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

quanruionechancepls · 1 day ago

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The Albatross - Chapter 1: Lacy's Angel Dust

Frontman!Hwang Inho x Host!Reader

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You’re rearranging your bookshelves, blowing off the dust that accumulated over the various books that sat around your room, forgotten with time, when you rediscover Osamu Dazai’s No Longer Human. Inside the book, a small bookmark peeks through the pages, and you flip it open to find a hand-pressed, blue flower. There’s no name on the bookmark, yet your hands shake as you pick it up.

Opening the book to the acknowledgements page, your face hardens as you see the scribbled ink on the page in messy handwriting.

Thank you for lending this book to me - Lacy.

Day 1: Squid Game 2015

Before you were escorted off the plane by a handsome man in a suit named Gongyoo, your dad flicked his hand, and a masked person in a pink jumpsuit brought out a tray with a black masquerade mask. The edges were lined with shining diamonds, a golden feather sticking out on the right. Running your finger through the centre, it discoloured the velvet texture as it ran in the opposite direction.

“What is this?” You asked, yelping when you lifted your head to see a bejeweled mask in the shape of an animal head on Ilnam. How utterly tacky, it shined like a disco ball! The diamonds scattered the reflections of light in all directions. “What’s that ugly thing on your head?”

Ilnam scoffed at you, perhaps offended. “Put on that mask before we get out,” he replied, holding onto the handles as he slowly wobbled down the stairs.

‘Thanks a lot for answering absolutely nothing!’ You thought to yourself, rolling your eyes as you struggled to tie it to the back of your head. Perhaps those fresh acrylic nails were a bad idea.

You flinched when you felt someone’s hand graze the back of your head. “I assumed you needed some help,” Gongyoo commented, his skillful hands looping the string around and creating a perfectly symmetrical bow.

“Oh, thanks.”

The mask sat perfectly on your face, as if it’d been custom-made for you, which was odd, because you didn’t recall ever ordering anything of the sort. Could it be that your dad bought it for you? It was a ridiculous sentiment, he couldn’t even name your favourite colour if he tried. Still, you doubted your brother would ever get you something like this, instead, gifting you another book he found particularly moving.

Gongyoo held out a hand for you, and you placed your hand in his palm as you stepped down the stairs of Ilnam’s private jet with him. Even as you turned your head side-to-side, there were no distinct features of your surroundings, only concrete and an endlessly blue sky. Before you could open your mouth to ask another question, a gust of wind slapped your hair into your face, and you sputtered as you spat the hair out of your mouth. How embarrassing.

“Welcome, to my creation— the Squid Games,” Ilnam announced, arms embracing the wind, basking in his own glory.

You turned to Gongyoo. “What’s a Squid Game?”

“It’s a traditional Korean game usually played in one’s childhood,” he explained.

You facepalmed and sighed into your hand. “This is it… my dad’s lost it.”

“Hey, I heard that!” Ilnam snapped, his hands now on his hips. “You’ll be impressed soon enough.” He began walking, those bizarre people in the pink jumpsuits trailing behind him. Gongyoo nudged you gently with his elbow, motioning for you to follow your dad. Sighing, your high heels click-clacked with each step you took.

Eventually, you found yourself in a theater-like room with many other adults wearing similarly tacky masks, some lifting their masks slightly to take a puff of their cigar or take a sip of their whiskey. The majority of them spoke in an American-accented English, snobbily debating about some sort of business deal.

“Do I have to stay in this room?” You asked your dad, coughing at the cigarette smoke, your eyes burning as you wafted away the chemicals with your hand. You could feel your lifespan decreasing with each second you spent in this room.

Ilnam motioned for one of the human pink jumpsuits with a square mask to come over. “Give her a private room,” he ordered before turning to Gongyoo. “Stay with her.”

Gongyoo bowed to Ilnam as you followed the person in the pink jumpsuit. “So, why do you wear that?” You asked as you followed them down a dimly-lit hallway.

“I will answer all your questions once we arrive at your private room,” Gongyoo interrupted, and you raised a hidden eyebrow at him.

The person in the jumpsuit stopped outside a door labelled VIP 001, and Gongyoo opened the door for you. You breathed a sigh of relief as you stepped inside. No unnecessary noises, like the sound of glasses clinking incessantly, or the inescapable, disgusting smell of cigarettes. The room itself was quite ordinary, appearing like a normal luxury hotel other than a large screen on one of the walls.

“What’s the screen for?” You asked, picking up the remote on the table beside the couch as Gongyoo shut the door behind you.

“The screen allows you to watch the games. They will begin in 10 minutes,” he answered vaguely, and you huffed in frustration.

“You said you would answer all my questions! What kind of half-assed answer is that?” You yelled.

“Ask away,” he retorted, his hands in the air. You wanted to mess up that pretty face of his.

“What kind of games are they?”

“The selection changes annually, but they usually consist of traditional Korean games. My job is to recruit players, and there are 456 in total. Each round, the players who lose the game will be eliminated,” he explained.

“Eliminated in what way?”

“You’ll see.” A dark grin appeared on his face, as if giddy.

“Hm, okay,” you thought out loud, trying to absorb the new influx of information. “What’s up with the pink jumpsuits?”

“Those are the staff. There are three hierarchies within these games: the Managers, the Soldiers, and the Workers. Squares, triangles, and circles, respectively.”

You nodded, and the modulated voice of a woman blasted through the speakers, with Gongyoo instantly snatching the remote out of your hand to turn on the screen. Before you could swing your arm at him and scratch him up with your acrylics, he caught your wrist. His grip was firm enough to prevent any movement, but gentle enough to not hurt you.

“Don’t ever do that again,” you hissed through gritted teeth, and he nodded, releasing your arm and motioning for you to sit on the couch. He sat beside you, pulling a walkie out of his pocket and ordering some snacks and refreshments.

Hundreds of players stepped into the arena in green tracksuits and a number, a giant doll-like figure staring them down on the other end. “This is Red Light, Green Light. It’s the only reoccurring game,” Gongyoo remarked, and you nodded.

“Is there a list of players I can look at? So I can keep track of the eliminations?” You questioned, and Gongyoo stood up and opened a drawer, pulling out an iPad and plugging in a charger.

While your eyes were on the iPad, the first gunshot rang out, and you whipped your head in the direction of the screen. A bloodcurdling scream, followed by a stampede of hurried footsteps, then banging on the door, until finally, the bodies all slumped on top of each other like a mountain.

“I see, that’s what you meant by elimination,” you commented, and Gongyoo handed you the iPad, which was now at 5%.

When you looked down, you were met with a long spreadsheet of numbers and names. Each name was highlighted blue, and when you clicked one, it opened a PDF that showed you the profile of the player. After opening a few, you realized the common theme was debt.

“Fuck, it’s going to take me forever to go through all these!” You complained, ignoring the explosive sound of gunshots echoing throughout the room.

Two hours later, long after the first game was over, you were still individually clicking through all the PDF files of the players. Right before you were about to give up and call it a day, you clicked on the profile of Player 132, a 40 year-old man at a height of 5’10, a survivor of the first round. You couldn’t help but giggle at his photo, particularly at his overgrown side-swept bangs that looked so 2000s.

Hwang Inho.

The name was familiar to you somehow, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on where you heard it before. Zooming in on his photo, you realized you’ve seen his face before, but when you tried jogging your memories, all you got was a pitch black void. You knew for sure that if you knew him, it wasn’t a recent encounter. Despite that unfortunate choice of a hairstyle, that handsome face of his was unforgettable.

In fact, you needed to know if he was single.

His profile didn’t mention anything about his relationship status, only his past as a police officer who was fired for taking bribes. You wondered how accurate that information was, as something about his features made him appear innocent.

Still, you weren’t going to stop your investigation there. Pulling out your phone, you opened Instagram, typing his name into the search engine as you scrolled past a dozen accounts to find him. Unfortunately, you hit your first dead end as you discovered his account was private, groaning loudly as Gongyoo glanced curiously in your direction. Exiting Instagram, you opened Facebook.

Facebook was exactly what you needed to find out everything about him. Player 132 was an avid Facebook user, posting random rants, selfies, and annual, near-identical cherry blossom photos. His recent posts were gloomy, consisting of overcast skies and emo quotes. You could’ve crumpled to your knees when you scrolled down far enough to find his wedding photo, the couple smiling brightly at the camera in a gaudily decorated venue. In another photo, a younger man around your age threw up a peace sign with Inho. At the very least, his hair was presentable for his wedding, rocking a slicked back style.

Sighing, you scrolled back up to continue your stalking, this time through his friend list. At the very top of the list was the name Hwang Junho, and upon closer inspection, you realized it was the same younger man holding up the peace sign. Judging by their last name, you assumed they were related, although they barely bore any resemblance to each other, their noses aside. Clicking on his profile, the first thing you saw was a post of him in the hospital with Inho’s wife with the caption: ‘Get well soon.’

How odd. Player 132’s profile didn’t mention anything about his sick wife. Typing Junho’s name into your notes, you went back to scouring through Player 132’s friend list. His wife’s profile wasn’t much farther down, and you discovered her illness as you scrolled. Liver cirrhosis in one post, the kind that needed an urgent transplant, and an ultrasound post following soon after. She was pregnant and had an illness that at best was chronic? She must’ve had a death wish.

Perhaps it was due to how familiar Player 132 seemed, or it was his strikingly attractive face, but he’d certainly piqued your interest. You turned to Gongyoo, who crunched on a bag of chips. “How long does it take to create a fake police badge and ID?”

Day 2: Squid Game 2015

Turns out, when you have enough money, you can just about get anything done within 24hrs, because here you were, back in Seoul. The moment the plane landed, your chauffeur handed you the ID and badge you requested, specifically for the position of a detective. You couldn’t say you were happy though, because even with negotiation, you were only able to bring the price down to 5 million won— that greedy motherfucker…

While 5 million won should be nothing to you, it still didn’t sit right that a badge and an ID barely larger than the size of your hand was so expensive. God, if you hadn’t bought it over the phone, you could’ve brought down the price to 2 million won for sure.

Your dad wasn’t very thrilled about your return, trying every spell in his book to keep you on whatever island those games were held on— you’d have to ask Gongyoo about that later. Luckily, you inherited your mom’s sharp tongue, one that deflected Ilnam’s every attempt at reasoning with you. It’s not that you didn’t like the games, and you would willingly watch the games in person, but alas, other duties called. At the very least, you could stream the edited footage on a later date, and Gongyoo could keep you up to date.

Your current priority was meeting Player 132’s wife in person. While Player 132 was fighting for his life in the games, you wanted to have a little chat with Little Miss Tragic Princess— Player 132’s beloved bird in a cage.

It wasn’t hard to force your way into having access to her room, as your dad was a huge investor of the hospital she stayed in. One glance into your files and pulling out all the times you stayed in the most luxurious ward was all it took to get a visitor pass hung around your neck. God, it felt great to be rich, even if all your riches were built on corruption. Besides, it was your dad’s corruption, not yours, so it didn’t really concern you.

A nurse personally escorted you to her room, and a few patients stared at you as you walked by, likely wondering what you did to gain such special treatment. You pulled out your least impressive outfit to blend in, your hair in a messy bun, a white blouse, and a blazer and pencil skirt, both in black. You looked like an average office worker, save for your unkempt hair.

“Please sanitize your hands before you enter. This patient is high-risk,” the nurse requested, pointing to the hand sanitizer on the counter opposite to the door.

“It appears her condition is quite severe,” you commented casually, pumping a generous amount into your hands and rubbing it in. The nurse didn’t respond, probably to avoid spilling any private information, not that it mattered. If you wanted the information, you had the means to find it on your own.

As the nurse walked away, you knocked on the door. For a moment, there was no response, and you wondered if Player 132’s wife had died the moment you arrived.

“Come in,” a soft voice called out from inside the room, so soft that if you were distracted, you would’ve never noticed it. You opened the door, entered, and shut it behind you.

Her skin was a sickly yellow, from her fingertips to her face. Even what was supposed to be the whites in her eyes were replaced with yellow.

Jaundice.

It was a common thing within people who had issues with their liver, something to do with a problem with the liver removing bilirubin from the body, a byproduct of processing old hemoglobin, causing a yellowish hue on the body. You knew a lot of random medical knowledge due to the amount of dates you had to sit through with the many, many doctors and students in pre-med that you dated.

“Who are you?” She asked, her voice firm.

You pulled out your fake badge and ID from the pocket in your blazer. “I’m a detective. In the past few days, there’s been a mass kidnapping within Seoul, though this information hasn’t been released to the public.” For the amount of money you paid, if she wasn’t convinced, then you’d definitely hunt down the guy who sold it to you and tear him apart limb from limb. “You’re the wife of Hwang Inho, correct?”

She didn’t relax, instead becoming even warier. “Why are you asking a sick patient like me? And how do you know my husband?”

“When looking through the files of the people who have gone missing, I noticed something they all had in common: they all had financial problems, enough to be in debt,” you continued.

“What are you implying? I know my family is working class, but debt?” She seemed quite offended by your words. There’s no way she wasn’t aware of how large of a financial burden her condition caused, especially her urgent need for a new liver.

“I apologize if I seemed condescending,” you replied, stepping closer and leaning in to whisper in her ear. “Your husband is on the file as well.”

She seemed quite shaken at this revelation. “That’s impossible, he visited me three days ago!” You wished you could live in as much delusion as her.

“It seems he was taken soon after he visited you.”

Before she could get more upset with you, her chest seized up and she hacked out a coughing fit, taking deep ragged breaths as you walked over to the corner of the room, took a paper cup, and filled it with warm water. She didn’t seem sick with pneumonia or anything of that sort, but it could be a lingering cough. She was quite susceptible at the moment, after all. “Can you find him?” She asked, her voice hoarse as she took a sip.

“I’m not in charge of that, so I’m not sure. I’m only able to gather information through interviews like this.” She visibly shriveled up with your purposeful vagueness. Even you could tell she was in a pitiful situation, not having much financial backing while dying in a hospital, and now you’re telling her her husband is missing. “If I’m being honest, we don’t have much support for this investigation either. It’s hard to find evidence.”

Before you knew it, she clung onto the sleeve of your blazer, her grip weak as her shaking fingers grasped at the fabric. You could easily fling her off if you wanted to, but all you did was glance at the sleeve that was surely going to wrinkle. “Please, find him! My husband is a good man— he’s been a police officer for nearly 20 years! Everyone would be losing out on another good person if he’s gone!”

Is a police officer? Does she not know that he was fired for allegedly taking bribes? You sucked in a breath, unsure about your next course of action as you pieced together the story. Starting from the top: Player 132 was a police officer who was apparently fired for taking bribes from a criminal organization. With your discovery of his sick wife, it’s safe to say he started taking bribes with the intent of using it for her treatment, and when he was fired, he was driven to join the games as a last ditch effort. Seems like a plausible story.

“...It says on our file that he was fired for taking bribes, although I’m unsure of how accurate it is. Sometimes investigators leave out important details,” you enunciated your words, trying to let your brain catch up with your mouth. Leaving out Player 132’s wife was a fatal mistake on the part of whichever man your dad put in charge of hunting down these desperate people— her role was crucial to why he entered the games in the first place.

Her expression twisted into a mixture of shock and despair. “That’s impossible…” she mumbled, and you wondered how much more denial she had left inside of her. “Why in the world would he do such a thing?”

Now you were suspecting she was purposely acting clueless. “Is your husband a devoted man?” You inquired.

“Yes, he is,” she replied without hesitation. “I’ve never needed to worry about another woman. He’s always treated me like a princess; brushing my hair, cooking my meals, helping me clean the apartment.” While it sounded like the bare minimum to you, you couldn’t deny that Player 132 was certainly better than the majority of men. It would be nice to be loved by a man like that.

“Then…”

She gasped, her hand covering her mouth as she stared into your eyes. “Does that mean he took out those bribes for me?!”

“That appears to be the case.”

“Gosh, Inho, that idiot!” She cried into her hands, leaning into the pillow behind her as she reeled from the shock.

“I’m sorry you had to find out this way,” you blurted out, not even sure what possessed you to say such a thing. What does this have anything to do with you?

She sighed. “It’s not your fault. I’m more upset that he didn't tell me himself. How is it fair that I had to find out through a detective instead of directly from my own husband?”

“He probably didn’t want to worry you, don’t be too hard on him,” you reassured her. A part of you wanted to sit down and pat her back, but you’ve been standing for so long that it would be a bit awkward if you suddenly sat down. That, and it was probably too intimate for two strangers. “Your only worry should be about recovering your health, nothing else matters.”

She didn’t have much to say, and you couldn’t blame her. It was likely a sentiment drilled into her by her family as soon as they discovered her condition. Here she was, a grown adult woman, reduced to her increasingly worsening illness. You would’ve been furious if you were in her position, so she was handling it with a lot more grace than you would be giving to the people around you.

Removing the visitor pass from your neck, you stuffed your badge and ID back into your pocket. “I’ll be back tomorrow, I hope you don’t mind,” you announced, then cupping your mouth and leaning in slightly. “You’re the last person I came to find. Over the next few days, I don’t have much else to do, but I still need to somehow kill time.”

This elicited a giggle out of her. “Sure, I don’t mind. My mother-in-law has mobility issues, and my brother-in-law is busy at work, so I’m alone for most of the day. It gets a little lonely, staring at the wall with all these needles stuck inside of you,” she responded, lifting the arm the IV was attached to, revealing a myriad of needles.

You flashed her with the most charming smile you could muster, showing off the pearly white teeth that you paid top dollars for. “See you tomorrow.”

Right before you opened the door, you turned around. “Keep this a secret between us, okay?” You requested, holding your index finger to your lips.

Day 3: Squid Game 2015

Gongyoo informed you that Player 132 survived the second round, much to your relief. If he died so quickly, what was the point in visiting his wife? You weren’t in need of any new friends. You hadn’t had the time to keep up with the games, and with near 24hr surveillance of the players, how on earth were you supposed to watch everything? Instead, you dug up more information on Player 132’s family.

His family consisted of his young half-brother, Hwang Junho, and his stepmom, Park Malsoon. He had a 16 year age gap with Junho, not far off from your own large age gap with your brother. His parents divorced when he was a teenager, and he had an estranged relationship with his biological mother while his father died soon after Junho was born. How tragic.

As the third round began, you made your way to the hospital, monitoring the file as it updated the eliminated players in real time. You prayed that Player 132 would survive this round as well— in fact, you wanted him to win. Someone with a face that hot didn’t deserve to die.

Actually, you wondered if you could do anything about it.

You: Am I allowed to rig the games to keep a player alive?

Gongyoo: For you, it’s not explicitly forbidden, but I don’t recommend it.

Gongyoo: The VIPs could get mad.

You: And why does that matter?

Gongyoo: They’re politicians, billionaires, world leaders, etc.

Gongyoo: You don’t want to mess with them.

You: Well, fuck.

Gongyoo: What’s going on?

You: There’s this really hot player.

You: I don’t want him to die.

Gongyoo: LOL, who?

You: Player 132.

Gongyoo: The one who came straight out of an emo band?

You: Hey!

You: You need to trust the process!

You: You need to believe in his potential!

Gongyoo: I won’t believe in it no matter what you say.

Gongyoo: I’m a straight man.

Gongyoo: Only got eyes for women.

You: Okay, then don’t judge my taste in men.

You: God, I guess my next best option is thoughts and prayers.

Gongyoo: Good luck with that. (Read)

Before you knew it, you were back in the hospital room, just in time to catch Player 132’s wife eating lunch. It didn’t appear appetizing in the slightest, a plain bowl of porridge and a fruit salad consisting of grapes, watermelon, and apples. In comparison to other patients, the food she received was considered as special treatment due to how expensive the cost of fruit was. With the cost of her treatment and her stay, you could only imagine how desperate Player 132 looked when begging for financial help.

“I should’ve brought you some dim sum,” you remarked, sitting on a stool and setting down your purse as she shook her head.

“They don’t allow outside food because I’m high risk. They’re very particular on what I’m allowed to eat,” she shrugged, although you could tell she was disheartened by her slight pout.

“That’s a shame.”

You diverted your attention to the IV drip, the isotonic fluid trickling into a long, transparent tube one droplet at a time. With it attached, you doubted she could walk very far, if not, at all. The hospital room seemed grayer than the rest, the lights off with the sunlight peeking through the window. The curtains were a drabby shade of baby blue. Even her sheets allowed no room for comfort or indulgence, a rough fabric in off-white.

“What do you do during the day?” You asked curiously, as there were no visible methods of entertainment in front of you. On the rare occasion you fell sick enough to require a stay in the hospital, you always had access to a TV.

“I facetime my mother-in-law, although it gets a little exhausting. She’s quite chatty, and I sometimes find it hard to keep up. She worries a lot too,” she replied with a small smile. You wondered why she never mentioned her own parents, but that might be too invasive of a question, so you bit back your curiosity. “I like reading, but in the rush of checking in, I couldn’t bring any books.”

She certainly looked like someone who enjoyed reading as a hobby. Your brother would probably kill to have a sister like her, only to end up with a party girl like you. “What kind of books do you read?”

“Hm,” she thought aloud. “When I was younger, I read a lot of romance, but I think I’ve grown out of it now. I like philosophical things, topics that talk about what the point of life is and what it means to be human.”

What it means to be human? You were sick of that topic after all the time you spent in Psychology and Sociology classes, despite it being your majors. It always made you feel like less of a person because often times a student would share a traumatic personal experience and everyone else would quietly chatter among themselves to discuss how horrible they felt, and you were in the corner baffled and wondering why they didn’t act differently in that situation.

Even so, you had to at least try to seem interested. “Have you ever read No Longer Human by Osamu Dazai? I think you’d enjoy it.”

She shook her head. “I never had the time to read it, and it’s hard to find in person. In hindsight, I wish I pursued it harder rather than putting it off.”

“I have a copy of it at home, I can lend it to you if you’d like,” you offered. Your brother gave it to you a year ago, although you haven’t gotten around to reading it. Most of your brother’s gifts ended up collecting dust because you had no use for them.

She perked up immediately. “Really? If it’s not too much trouble, I’d love to read it!”

“I’ll bring it tomorrow,” you replied. Suddenly, you paused. You weren’t sure if your copy was in the Korean translation, as you and your brother were both fluent in English, and could freely choose to read anything within those two languages. “Ah, it might be in the English translation…”

“English? You know how to speak English?” She asked curiously. While English was a subject taught in school, with the lack of opportunities to practice, most Koreans could only hold a basic conversation.

“Yes, I have dual citizenship,” you responded. “If the one I have isn’t in Korean, I’ll try and find a Korean copy.”

“No, no, it’s okay!” She waived, trying to seem modest. It was a common tactic— always pretend you don’t want something even if you do.

“You’re already cooped up in here all day, I should at least try and make you comfortable while you’re here!” You insisted, although you dreaded cleaning through your bookshelf, already imagining all the dust flying in your face.

She seemed to give in with your insistence, but she probably wasn’t going to put up much of a fight either way. “Can I ask you a question?” She asked you after a moment of silence, and you nodded. “What’s America like? I never had the money to travel abroad, only within Korea.”

Well, fuck. You didn’t know how to answer her question. The United States was like every other country, and it had pros and cons. You also weren’t sure how normal your experience was, as you were very sheltered while you were there. Despite how sheltered you were, you still had to pick up a new language to the point of fluency within two years or you’d fall behind in school.

You scrunched your eyebrows. “Hm… I’d say America is a good tourist destination, just avoid the subways.” The first time you took the subway, you almost got stabbed, and since then, your dad hired a driver for you. It might’ve been partially your fault though, as it was 11pm.

She laughed. “Are the subways that bad?”

“I almost got killed the last time I took it, so you tell me,” you joked, and she gasped.

“What happened?”

“A man was drunk after a night out at the bar. I looked like an easy target. I only got away because the train arrived in time and he tripped on his pants and faceplanted onto the floor,” you recounted the story. He flashed everyone inside the trolley when he tripped, and you winced as you recalled the memory. Gross.

“Oh my, that’s so scary! I’m glad you’re okay!”

“I have a lot of luck on my side,” you bragged jokingly. If you were still unlucky after that childhood of yours, you’d bring this issue up with whatever higher power was willing to turn the tides for you.

“Since you’re American, you have an English name, right?” She questioned and you nodded. “Can you tell me what it is?”

“Do you want me to give you one?” You asked after telling her your English name. She seemed quite excited at this, and you pondered what kind of name you’d give her.

You didn’t want to give her a name that was elegant, like Eleanor or Charlotte. A name that was too common was off the table too— you’ve met enough Emilys in this lifetime, the world doesn’t need another one.

Lacy.

Unconventional, odd, and can be vulgar in certain contexts, particularly concerning the description of lingerie. It was perfect. After all, you weren’t going to give her an actual name that sounded nice, and she was ignorant enough to not know any better. Within Korea, she could go around telling people her name was Lacy and no one would bat an eye— perhaps they would think it sounded cute.

“What about Lacy? A lot of feminine English names have a long e sound.”

“Oh, it sounds quite cute! Thank you.” She clapped giddily, probably the most energetic she’s been in weeks. You typed it out on your phone and showed her the spelling of her name, and she added the English keyboard to her device, copying it.

Thankfully, your alarm rang before you had to try and come up with another conversation topic, and you picked up your purse from the floor. “I have a meeting I have to attend. I’ll come back tomorrow,” you declared. There was no meeting for you to attend, just an alarm you forgot to turn off from your school semester that reminded you to study.

“Don’t forget the book!” She reminded, and you laughed.

“I’ll try my best.”

Day 4: Squid Game 2015

Player 132 survived again.

At this point, you were really starting to believe that he could be a finalist. You spent the previous night catching up on everything you missed, mainly watching the games themselves, opting out of the downtime in the dormitory. Gongyoo said that towards the end, there were special games that occured in the middle of the night. You found out what he meant when you opened the file this morning to find several more players dead.

Concerning the book, your copy was thankfully in Korean, so you didn’t have to hunt it down last minute. You didn’t mind if she kept it forever, it was only a book, after all. You could buy a million copies if you wanted to.

You also needed to get back on track since you only started talking to Lacy with the intention of somehow getting your hands on her man. Anyone with eyes knew she didn’t have long left, and her last sliver of hope was the desperate Player 132. If he died, it wasn’t just a death sentence for him, but also Lacy and their fetus.

You had the means to give her exactly what she urgently needed, but why in the world would you do that? To make your life harder? If Player 132 survived and returned to see his wife healthy, you’d have no chance of getting in between them. If he died, Lacy would become a single mother, and you’d toss her aside like a broken doll. If the odds were stacked against you, you’d might as well let all of them die together.

The visits began becoming routine. Every morning, you’d wake up at 9, check the files for any updates, and get ready for the day. By 10:30, you were in the backseat of a car, your driver silently making his way to the hospital. Today, the only difference was the book in your hand. You didn’t have any space inside that tiny purse that was only meant for stylish purposes.

You didn’t need a nurse to escort you anymore, nor did you need them to remind you to sanitize your hands, tucking the book underneath your arm as you rubbed it in. As soon as you walked in, you presented the book to Lacy as if it was a shiny diamond, and despite the discoloured bags underneath her eyes representing her fatigue, she lit up immediately.

“You remembered the book!” She cheered, lifting her arms into the air.

“I’m glad it was in Korean. I’d have to buy a new one if mine was in English,” you responded, placing it on her lap as she excitedly flipped through it.

“I’ll be sure to finish it as soon as possible.”

You shook your head. “No need, take your time. Read when you want to, rest when you need to.”

She sighed, her shoulders drooping as her smile dropped. “I can’t return it to you if I take my time. I don’t think I have long left.” She attempted to force a half-smile, one that didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m worried for my husband. What if I’m gone by the time he’s found? Our baby too…”

You feigned surprise. “Baby?”

“Oh, you can’t tell because I’m still in my first trimester. We discovered the pregnancy and the illness at the same time,” she explained.

“That must be so frustrating. You can’t even celebrate such a joyous moment because it’s given to you with bad news.”

Lacy nodded. “I’ve accepted the end, although I haven’t told anyone this except you. We can’t afford the liver transplant, and after you told me that my husband’s gone into debt to pay for my hospital bills…. I don’t know, it seems like a hopeless situation.”

“How much does a liver transplant cost?” You were genuinely curious. The cost of buying an organ was already expensive, and then combining that with the price of an operation and a hospital stay easily bankrupted families. There was also the added issue of the possibility of the body of the recipient rejecting the organ, which caused more complications. Compared to Korea, such lifesaving care was even more expensive in the States.

She sighed. “Last time we checked, it’s over 200 million won. That’s 4 years of my husband’s salary without accounting for our cost of living. I used to work in a corporation, but I quit six months ago because I kept getting sick.”

200 million won was two months of your allowance, and it made you realize how different your worlds were. You could buy her a new liver a thousand times over. You really had no business sitting in her hospital room chatting with her like this.

“Gosh, I didn’t realize it was so expensive!” You gasped. “On the bright side, now you know how much your husband loves you because of how hard he’s fighting to make sure you receive the care you need.”

She giggled. “Yes, I’m very lucky.”

“How did the two of you meet?”

She glanced at the ceiling as she reminisced in her mind. “We actually met while he was at work. He was on patrol when he saw me getting harassed by a man. He saved me, and later that day, we coincidentally ran into each other at a restaurant.”

“Ooh, you’ve got your own prince charming!” You teased, and the two of you burst into laughter.

“I wish he was a prince charming! Without me, the entire apartment would be covered in ramen packets. One time, I was away for a business trip, and I returned to plastic crunching under my feet as they overflowed from the kitchen!” She recounted, her gestures large to show you how large of a mess he’d made.

“I’d be so mad if I came home to that!” You exclaimed, and she nodded in agreement.

“I was! I chewed him out until he was begging for forgiveness on his knees!”

“But you said he knows how to cook, so why does he rely on ramen when you’re not around?” You asked.

“He only cooks for me. He doesn’t take care of his health as much as he should, yet he always worried about mine even before my illness,” Lacy sighed, shaking her head. “At this rate, I’m going to die of the stress he causes before my liver gets the chance to kill me.”

It seemed Player 132 was quite hypocritical, although in a self-sacrificing way. Going into debt, entering the Squid Games, and worrying about everyone but himself. It only made him more appealing to you. Why wouldn’t you want a partner who worshipped you like the goddess you were? And he was one of the hottest men you’ve ever laid eyes on. Seriously, if you couldn’t have him, no one else could either.

Before you could respond, someone knocked on the door. Once Lacy gave them permission to enter, a nurse opened the door while another tip-toed inside, balancing Lacy's next meal on the tray. After a makeshift table was set up on her bed, they placed it in front of her and left. Lacy glanced at the steaming food, but didn’t pick up any utensils, instead turning her attention back to you.

“Are you not going to eat?” You pointed at the food. “It won’t taste good when it’s cold.”

“Ah…” she hesitated. “I’m actually not hungry. For the last few days, I’ve been forcing myself to eat for the sake of the baby, but I can’t do it anymore, I just keep feeling worse.”

You raised both your eyebrows at the same time. “You should tell a doctor about this!” You exclaimed, about to ring the bell when Lacy grabbed your hand and shook her head.

“I told you that I’m going to die soon, didn’t I? Any treatment they give me will be for naught, and it’s only going to increase the debt.” Wow, she was just as self-sacrificing as her husband.

Dropping your hand back at your side, you inhaled deeply. “How are you so casual about dying? Are you not scared?”

Lacy averted your eyes, staring down at her yellow hands and her bedsheets. “I am scared,” she admitted in a whisper. “Inho— my husband and I have always wanted a baby. When we found out I was pregnant, I hoped I’d at least be able to carry it to term so he would have a piece of me if I'm gone, but my condition worsened quicker than expected, and I don’t think that’s possible anymore.”

Fuck, were you really feeling pity for a woman whose husband you wanted to steal? Worse, were you starting to care about a woman who’s one infection away from being taken by the Grim Reaper?

If you spend any more time with her, you were going to lose your mind. She trusted you so easily, telling you about her family— even her greatest fear. You doubted she could tell her husband about it, both of them wanting to protect each other from additional woes in such a difficult time.

Yet here you were, taking advantage of her, waiting for her to die.

Even with her illness, it was as if she was an angel, from her warm disposition to her dainty fingertips. She was pure as can be, not even suspecting if you had any ulterior motives, as if she believed in the good in people. She took everything you said and did at face value.

If you were the type of show-stopping beauty that landed you on magazines and runways, then Lacy was the opposite. She could roll out of bed, apply a tinted lip balm, lazily tie her hair up in a ponytail, and leave the house. She was an effortless beauty, the pretty girl next door that didn’t stick out, but was the talk of the town locally. You hated to admit it, but she fit Inho like a missing puzzle piece.

You were a rose, and she was a dandelion, often overlooked, yet one of the many joys brought to children who blew the seeds away when spring rolled around every year. With her illness, she was just as fleeting as those dandelion seeds. In fact, with the jaundice her condition caused, she quite literally looked as yellow as a dandelion— how fitting.

Even so, how could she be so beautiful when she was knocking on death’s door? You wanted to rip the skin off her face and glue it to your own.

“I think you would be a good mother,” you said after a long period of silence, your throat suddenly dry, yet you somehow still managed to swallow your own spit. She was much better suited for motherhood than you’d ever be, her love and dedication for a child that wasn’t even here yet was proof of it.

She smiled at you. “Thank you. If I could live for a bit longer, I’d hope this child has a better life than me, but I think my stubbornness will kill both of us.”

Even if she had prioritized herself and got an abortion, the baby was still going to die. Assuming she recovered and got pregnant again, the baby in her stomach wouldn’t be this baby. She needed a miracle to save both of them— one such miracle that her husband was willing to throw away his life for in the form of 45.6 billion won. Still, she needed to hang on long enough for the miracle to actually work.

You weren’t sure if your question was acceptable, but you decided it was now or never. “Would you want your husband to move on if you pass?” It seemed insensitive to use the word ‘when.’

“Of course. Why would I want him to wallow in grief for the rest of his life? I want him to be happy even when I’m gone. I’d only truly be at peace once I know someone will look out and care for him.” What an angel. She was truly better than you in every possible way.

The rest of your visit was a blur, and your feet trudged on the floor as you walked through the hallway of the hospital once your alarm rang. You were starting to dread tomorrow, as you knew you’d have to return, but it would also be cruel to leave her alone. She made it clear it was rare for family members to visit her in person, so who were you to steal this small bundle of happiness from her? Even if you weren’t genuine, it’s better to let her have this momentarily.

Day 5: Squid Game 2015

You officially ran out of conversation topics, awkwardly fiddling with your thumbs as you sat on a stool near her bed. She was so invested in reading she hadn’t noticed your presence, and you weren’t going to break her concentration. Impressively, she was already more than halfway through the book. She wasn’t kidding about trying to return it to you at the earliest date.

Your mind wandered back to the games and to Inho, who’d survived another round, like you expected. He was officially in the semifinals— the last stretch of the games. His chances of winning were now around 1 in 20, depending on how many players died with each passing minute you spent in the hospital.

When she turned her head slightly to reach for a cup of water on the counter, she noticed you in her peripheral vision, and yelped. “Sorry, I didn’t notice you there. Why didn’t you say anything?” She asked as she placed a bookmark inside and closed the book.

“You were so focused, I didn’t want to break your concentration,” you replied.

“We only chat for a few hours at most, and I have the rest of the day to read. My time with you is more precious than this book,” she pointed out, and your heart tingled. How odd.

“I didn’t prepare any conversation topics today.”

She burst out laughing, wheezing as she attempted to catch her breath, and the corners of your lips twitched upwards. “You prepare conversation topics?

“Sometimes. It’s a good guideline when you’re getting to know someone,” you shrugged. No shame in your game, you had to do what you had to do to avoid awkwardness.

“Well, I’ve spent the last few days talking a lot about me, but I don’t actually know much about you other than you being American, so, today we’re talking about you,” she declared, rather determined.

You chuckled. “What do you want to know?”

“Hm, let me think,” Lacy pondered. “Were you born in America?”

You shook your head. “I’m a naturalized citizen. I was born in Seoul.”

“Oh? Then how did you immigrate to America?”

“I was there for school. I came back to Seoul for school as well,” you answered. Other than being obnoxiously rich, you were still a pretty normal person.

“Which school?”

“Seoul National University.”

She gasped. “Wow, that’s a really good school!” She clapped for you, and your ears blushed from embarrassment.

“It’s nothing, really. My brother went to Harvard,” you replied. If you really wanted to go to Harvard, all you had to do was get your dad to donate a large amount to the institution, but you opted to return to Korea because, well, the Korean food in America could never compare to the real thing.

Lacy gasped even louder. “What the… is your family full of geniuses?”

“My dad has high expectations, so we’re expected to perform.” You could imagine the disappointment on his face if you hadn’t even gotten into Seoul National University.

“Gosh, isn’t that a bit cruel? I would never put that much pressure on my child, life is already stressful enough.” Her mentality was quite similar to your mother’s, although your mom still wanted you to enter a school of a decent standing even if you weren't reaching for the stars.

You shrugged again. “Every parent wants their child to succeed. School is the easiest way to climb the social ladder.”

She sighed. “I don’t want to talk about such a bleak subject,” she declared. “Anyways, what do you study? You look quite young, so I assume you’re still in school.”

Right, Lacy was probably in her thirties. You doubted Inho would date someone more than 10 years younger than him. “Psychology and Sociology. I don’t like Math.”

She giggled. “Me neither. Math was my worst subject in school.” You held your hand up to high-five her in solidarity, and she returned it without hesitation. Math victims have to stick together.

“Hm, what else can I ask you?” She thought aloud, before an imaginary lightbulb lit up beside her head. “What are your hobbies?”

Shit, she got you there. What were you supposed to say— go shopping? It would either expose your financial status or your lack of impulse control, and you weren’t going to tell her about your shopping addiction.

“I really like anything to do with beauty. Makeup, skincare, anything else you can name. I also like doing other people’s makeup,” you responded. It was basically a roundabout way of saying you had a shopping addiction without explicitly stating it.

“Ooh, I noticed that! Your makeup always looks flawless, although you already look like a doll, but it enhances your features so much more!” She praised, and you blushed harder. Receiving compliments from a pretty woman always felt nice.

“Thank you,” you mumbled shyly. You received compliments quite often, so you weren’t sure why you were so flustered when getting complimented by someone who looked like they were going to eat a banana and aid Gru in stealing the moon. As you averted your gaze, you noticed a half-used perfume bottle on the counter. That wasn’t there before! “Is that Chance Eau Tendre by Chanel?”

Lacy whipped her head towards the bottle, then back to you. “How did you know? The writing was on the opposite side!” She looked quite amazed.

“One of my friends uses it regularly. She likes perfume, and she drags me with her, so I know a lot about perfume too.”

“She probably goes shopping quite often, considering how fast you recognized that bottle.” She picked it up and held out a hand for you, which you glanced at confusingly, your eyebrows slightly scrunched. “Can you open your hand for me?”

You obliged to her request, still confused. She placed it in your hand, and you could’ve broken your neck with how fast you lifted your head to make eye contact with her. “What are you doing?”

“Keep it,” she replied, as if her actions were the most normal thing anyone’s ever done. She covered your hand with her own, the perfume bottle sandwiched in between, her icy fingertips brushing against your wrist. “I can’t finish it anyways.”

Normally, you’d be offended that someone was giving you their leftover perfume, regardless of whether or not it was free, but you couldn’t find it in you to get upset. Lacy was nearing the end of her life, and her family was struggling to keep themselves afloat while juggling her medical bills. This perfume was one of the last small luxuries she had, likely a gift she received during a holiday or a birthday.

Without realizing, your eyes prickled, and you fought back tears as you met her eyes. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” she reassured you with a smile on her face. She seemed at peace with her decision.

Thats when you knew she was going to die tomorrow.

Day 6: Squid Game 2015

God, you hated being right sometimes.

You were in the middle of a call with the CEO of the hospital, discussing the best match for the organ you were going to purchase for Lacy, when you heard the sound of hurried footsteps and heavy breathing from the other end. Lacy had died right before you were going to finalize your purchase, mere minutes before the liver she desperately needed would be delivered to the hospital and she would enter a lifesaving surgery. Fuck, sometimes it was better to be wrong.

You bit back tears as you watched Inho on the screen, now having no reason for all the suffering and psychological torture he went through.

The book was personally returned to you by the CEO, and you stared at it as if it was a foreign object— as if Lacy wasn't holding it mere moments ago. You didn't think you'd ever be able to pick up and read this book, not now, and not in the future.

The funeral was held a week later, along with a burial. Of course, you weren’t invited, but with your connections, you found out where it was held. You were dressed in a basic black dress with a matching hat, hoping to shield your eyes enough for your identity to be unclear— and so no one could see your tears. No one was aware of your existence except for Lacy herself, and as a result, you were a ghost who had no right to mourn.

It seemed even the heavens were mourning the loss of Lacy, the sky crying for her in the form of a heavy downpour. Inho was equally as crushed, his body trembling as it wracked in sobs, in the fetal position as if he was a little kid. Junho, biting his lip and staring up at the sky to prevent his tears from falling, comforted his brother by rubbing his back. Malsoon dabbed her tears with a tissue, blowing her nose before more tears fell, and she repeated the cycle.

You observed all this while standing in front of a gravestone a few rows away, which is why you brought two bouquets of flowers. How disrespectful would you be if you pretended to mourn for a random stranger without even bringing them an offering? In one hand, you had a bouquet of roses, and the other of white carnations.

You patiently waited for her family to leave, and Junho had to physically drag Inho away from the gravestone. “Inho, you’re going to get sick if you stay here for any longer! We can visit her again tomorrow!” You heard him yell.

“How the fuck can I leave her now?! I left her alone for a week, only to come back and find her dead! I can’t ever leave her again!” Inho screamed back, his anguish coating every word that left his mouth.

“Please, she wouldn’t want the two of you to fight!” Malsoon attempted to reason with them in between her own tears, and the two brothers quieted down with her interference.

As Inho hesitantly stood up and trudged away, mud soaking much of his clothing, Malsoon took his hand and guided him away. As Junho’s hand left his brother’s back, he glanced in your direction, and you quickly looked away, placing the roses on the gravestone in front of you. You prayed he wouldn’t find you suspicious. Did he realize you were watching them the whole time?

When they were finally out of sight, you walked over to Lacy’s gravestone, the mud beneath your feet coating the soles and sides of your boots. Inhaling deeply, you stared at the engraved letters for a moment, your eyes skimming through a few photo frames. In one, she held a bouquet while she smiled brightly at the camera, and in another, she sat on a small staircase with Inho as he grinned. She looked even more beautiful when she was healthy.

“I hate you,” you blurted out, placing the carnations on her gravestone.

No one mourns the wicked, but the wicked don’t mourn for the good either.

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carry-on-my-wayward-butt · 1 year ago

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my computer fan is fucking insane not only does it look like a jet engine but i could play AAA games on ultra graphics for eleven hours straight and still have a freezing cold case. it's truly insane jesus christ.

#op #i thought he was ridiculous when he bought this for me but he was right #that shit is amazing

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writersdrug · 5 months ago

Note

Price getting reader a step stool cause she keeps asking Bartender!Ghost to reach stuff for her. Simon obviously brakes it when no ones looking. 👀🤭

LOL

"Is this your way of insulting me?" You ask, holding the colorful, children's stepstool in your hands. You're grimacing at it, a look that has Price chuckling as he folds up the bag from the store.

"I figured you could use it - now ya don't have to wait for Simon to grab anything for you." He says, patting you on the shoulder.

"I don't mind the wait..." You mumble under your breath. The stool feels as decorative as a clowns nose as you tuck it under your arm and head towards the stairs. "I'm keeping it upstairs, I don't need customers laughing at me when I pull this out. Might take it home and spray paint it."

"Suit yourself." Price calls as you bound up the stairs. He heads over to the bar, where Simon is currently polishing the glasses you convinced him to order for the Halloween drink.

"Got a problem with me helpin' 'er?" Simon says, thick fingers rubbing the glass with a rag. He doesn't mean to sound defensive... but he can't help the bite in his tone.

Price smirks, picking up on the jealousy laced into Simon's words. "Thought you might like it. Makes your life easier, and 'ers." He pops open the register and starts filtering through the bills, replacing the larger value ones with smaller ones.

"You don't think I'm capable of runnin' a bar and helping you waitress at the same time?"

"No, but I think you'd be better off if you didn't have to run so much. She's brought in so much business as it is, your workload's gotten heavier."

Simon huffs. "Ya just want to separate us, hm? Want 'er all to yourself." He jokes, grabbing another glass and buffing it.

Price shrugs. "And if I am?" He says, giving him a side glance.

Ghost slows his ministrations, turning his head to his captain. They both stare at each other for a moment, Simon with his slightly angry, slightly questioning glare, and Price with his unwavering eyes. Simon wants to tell him to back down, that you're his - but he can't say that, because you aren't his. He wants you to be. But he doesn't know how to make it happen without letting his walls down.

Price chuckles, turning back to the register to continue swapping bills. "Y'know, if you want to say somethin' you'd best say it." He comments, snapping the drawer shut. "Missed opportunities often come from miscommunication."

He leaves Simon at the bar, heading towards the stairs with his money folder. You jog down the steps and nearly crash into him - he quickly grabs your shoulders and spins you out of the way before you can collide with him. You throw a "sorry!" over your shoulder as you carry an armful of various fruits, leaving Price chuckling as he ascends the stairs to the office.

"The oranges up there aren't looking too great." You chirp, dumping the fruit onto his workspace. A few lemons and limes roll onto the floor, and you bend down to chase them. Simon watches you, a bit miffed at how unaware you were of the situation. What do you think of Price? Do you like him? Would you flirt with him as much as you do with Simon?

You return with the escaped fruit. "I can run to Sevvy's store and grab some for tonight, if you want? The ones upstairs are looking a bit pruney."

"Are you actually gonna use that thing?"

"Huh?" You look at him with confusion written on your face. "What thing?"

"The stool." He looks down at you, his expression unreadable. "'S a bit demeaning, don'tcha think?"

You paused, watching him move the fruit to the side and grab a plastic cutting board. "I mean... he bought it, and I wouldn't have to bug you so much. If I spray paint it black or something, it won't look that ridiculous."

He nods. "Hm."

"I used it to grab the fruit."

"That's interestin'." He mumbles, slicing through an orange. You were right, they have seen better days.

He turns to pop open the register and hands you some bills. "Go get a few oranges, no more than ten. Order should be comin' in tomorrow."

You smile and take the money, stuffing it in your back pocket. With a few hours remaining before the restaurant opens, you go through the kitchen, grab your jacket, and head out the back.

Simon's back to chopping fruit and dumping it into a small bin, bitterly thinking over what Price had said. It's a stool. Price got it to help you and himself. It was a thoughtful purchase. But it's not just that. However unserious this is to Price, he's trying to rile Simon up. He's treating you like the last slice of cake in the tin - Price would like to have it, but he knows Simon's groveling for it. He's forcing Simon to ask for what he wants, and the bartender doesn't like that one bit. Normally, it wouldn't be something that irks him so easily - but this is you we're talking about. Not just anything. You. He wants to grab Price by the collar and throw him into next week with how he's trying to wedge between you and Simon - but he doesn't like having a weakness. He'll keep his cool for now. He'll make a move... eventually.

For now, the only aggressive side he'll present is passive.

Price leaves late that night, somewhere between two and three in the morning. He's beat, spending most of the night between helping you run food and drinks, and fifo-ing the pantry and overflow rooms. He's planning for a day off - of course, after he goes to the bank and comes back here to pay everyone. He's jealous of Simon, who's already upstairs for the night - he wishes he only had a short trip to the third floor before he could crash into his bed. Rather, he has to trek a hefty number of blocks home through the dark streets. He's more worried about going to bed at a decent hour than walking around at night with a bag full of money - people usually steer clear of him when they see his stature.

He locks the back door behind him, puffing out a foggy breath into the frigid air. It's only getting colder - he'll have to break out his gloves and scarf soon. The beanie won't be enough. He shoves one hand into his pocket, the other holding a small bag of trash from the office. He mentally ticks off what he needs to do this week as he grabs the garbage bins, dragging them behind him and towards the street for the trucks to empty in the morning. He pushes them against the store front, taking the lid off and dropping the light trash bag inside.

The loud thunk makes him do a double take. Did he throw away something important? He lifts the bag once again, and a disappointed expression falls upon his face. The colorful kiddie stool he bought for you is there, pieces snapped apart and shoved deep into the bin. Simon didn't even try to hide it underneath the other bags. It's almost like he left it there for Price to catch.

He sighs, dropping the bag and placing the lid back. He trudged down the sidewalk towards his home - he's not too upset by it. He had a feeling Ghost was sinking his teeth into you, and frankly, it's gotten to the point where Price is afraid of what the man might do if someone else tries to take you away. But damn, if his ex-lieutenant's going to make a move, he'd better make a fucking move. For your sake, if not his own.

He pulls his phone from his pocked and shoots Simon a quick, blunt message.

You're paying me back for that.

#bartender ghost #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley #ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost #ghost cod #cod x reader #call of duty

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lildiva00 · 1 year ago

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last part of virgin!Choso<3 (im gonna write more for him tho, just in other scenarios!!) other parts here: part 1 part 2 part 4

.⋅ ۵♡۵ ⋅.

Virgin Choso who stands on his small balcony, looking over the city, a grey cloud creeping out between his lips.

Choso had taken up smoking. He’d asked Leiri about it when he’d seen her doing it, and she’d told him it helped her to relax. he’d bought a pack right after that. The first couple of times he’d coughed the smoke out. But now he does it smoothly, inhaling and exhaling the smoke with no problem. It makes him feel at ease even just for a moment, and lord knows he needs it right now. Humans are fucking weird he thinks, they’d jepordize their health for a little break from their troubles. Guess that doesnt sound so ridiculous now that he thinks about it. Either way hes a human now too, or a half one atleast.

he squeezes the cigarette into an ashtray and looks at the time when he hears the door bell ringing. Its late and you’re here.

he hears you running up the stairs, and when you get to the top you run to him, giving him a soft hug. His heart keens.

“hi Choso!” you smile and let go of him, he immediately misses the feel of you, “hey,” he mumbles.

“why do you smell like cigerattes?” you huff and your nose crickles. cute.

he raises his shoulders.

“i cant believe it…who taught u to do that huh?” you make a disappointed face and fold your arms, tapping your foot on the floor. And he knows youre just joking, you and Yuji have been using enough sarcasm around him for him to have a pretty good understanding of it.

“Leiri,” he shrugs.

“of course…that hag,” you grin. And you look so fucking adorable, in your little outfit, and the way you look when you smile makes him weak. He has your bag ready on the couch, he had washed your panties before putting everything back into it. But he can’t think about that now, or he’ll turn bright red.

he sighs “i made dinner,” he says, “if you’re hungry,” you stop infront of him and you almost look like youre gonna cry from happiness. “im starving,” you say quickly, “what did you make?”

He’d made rice bowls for you. your favourite. And you eat like a girl who’d gotten her first meal in months. Happily humming while eating your food.

Rather than focusing on eating his own bowl, he thinks about eating every meal of the day with you, sitting across from him.

when you’re done you put your plate in the sink and you yawn, you look adorable when you yawn, you look adorable when you do anything.

you turn around, “Choso?”

his heart skips a beat. he nods.

“it’s really late and um…dark outside and i don’t really want to walk home alone,” you look away, are you….blushing?

“is it okay if i stay here for the night?”

And hes heard the stories. About what happens to pretty girls when they’re alone at night and they don’t see the stranger walking behind them. And his fist clenches at the thought of someone being mean to you. He’s stronger than any human. he’d crush their fucking skull.

“you can stay,” he says quickly, a little too eagerly he realises. And you smile, “give me your plate,” you say, looking greatful that he let you stay, unknowing of the fact that he’d do just about anything if it meant your safety, or your happiness.

You start washing the dishes in his tiny kitchen, and when Choso tries insisting that he wants to help, you splash a bit of water on him. And you laugh so sweetly, when he jumps a little, trying not to get hit.

When youre done washing up, You both stand in silence for a while. For some reason its not as akward as it sounds.

“i will sleep on the couch,” he says,

“no Choso…id feel bad, you sleep in your bed,” you mumble.

You both argue like that for a while, and youre not letting up. stubborn little human.

you both get quiet for a moment.

“how big is your bed?”

“Queen size,”

“so why dont we just…sleep in it together?”

youre blushing slightly again. it must be his imagination.

And then he thinks about it. Friends sleep in the same bed sometimes right? you dont mean anything by it, he thinks, its just you being polite.

“i guess…we could do that yes,” he agrees.

you smile and nod, “okay,”

Choso excuses himself to go to the bathroom then, telling you to go ahead and get ready for bed.

He looks at himself in the mirror. He takes out his buns, his hair falling down to his shoulders. His eyes are dark and sunken. He looks dead he thinks. He looks down, “behave,” he says quietly, mostly to his heart, but also his dick.

he buries his head in his hands And He realizes he cant, he realizes the second he’s gonna look at you in his bed, he won’t be able to stop himself. to stop himself from confessing everything he feels, everything he’s done. that he thinks about you all the time, that you drive him insane, that he stole your pretty panties and came in his hand from the smell of your wet cunt.

When he rounds the corner of his bedroom, you’re sitting patiently on the edge of his bed, waiting for him.

“i am going to sleep on the couch, i don’t think this is a good idea,” he says it quickly, before he changes his mind, before its too late to go back.

you open your mouth to speak, hesitating a little.

“is it because of what yuji told me?”

his brain goes quiet. “what?”

“that you…that you like me?”

fuck. its over. he sighs angrily. that little fucki-

you stand and walk to him.

and when you put your hand on his chest, for a moment he forgets why hes mad, he forgets who he is and what year hes in. all he sees is you. And how close you are all of a sudden. and how youre leaning in, standing on your tippy toes, pressing your soft lips to his, in a short gentle kiss. His world stops for a moment.

And when he regains his senses, his instincts take over and he kisses you back ferociously, it’s sloppy and uncoordinated, but neither of you seem to care.

You walk backwards onto his bed, and you push him down so he’s sitting on the edge. He looks at you like a puppy dog, and his cheeks are flushed red.

When you sit down in his lap his dick twitches in his pants.

“i- i didnt think you…,” he stutters. he doesn’t really believe what’s happening.

“well i do,” you say, while cupping his face in your hands. “a lot,”

“can i…” he needs it he needs it he needs it, “can i eat your pussy?” he mumbles it quietly.

your eyes widen. fuck, he shouldn’t have said that, it was way too fast, you were just kissing.

“oh…uh okay,”

fuck. yes.

he lifts you up from his lap, and you skriek a little from surprise. He puts you down in a chair in the corner of his bedroom.

he gets on his knees infront of you and speaks quietly,

“i…im sorry i,” he sniffles a little, he’s so overwhelmed. And you’re letting him taste you.

you lean down and give him a kiss, biting your lip slightly.

“its okay…we can talk later, if you need it i’ll give it to you okay?”

And fuck he almost cries, and he buries his face in your lap. You shush him a little, caressing his hair. Hes hugging your legs.

He lifts his head, and you start unbuttoning your pants. Slowly sliding them down your hips as they fall to the floor. You spread your legs and he whimpers. Your panties are pink this time, and theres a big wet spot on them. And he doesn’t spare a second, he dives his head into your cunt, rubbing his face in it and licking at the wet spot desperately. you moan his name softly, and he cant help but grind his hard cock against the leg of the chair. Hes pathetic but he doesnt care, he wants you to feel good, he wants to make you cum on his face. He groans into your weeping pussy as he thinks about you cumming for him.

He pulls away a little, silently begging you to remove your panties. He wants to see your pussy so bad. His pussy.

You slide down your panties to reveal your soaked cunt. Choso almost growls. He looks up at you, asking for permission to keep going. you nod, your eyes half lidded. Spoiled little princess, he thinks, and thats exactly how hes going to treat you from now on.

he leans in again, kissing your pussy and it makes a wet sound. He licks his lips and groans deeply at your taste. He starts lapping at your cunt like a dehydrated puppy. He’s making out with your pussy now, swiping his tongue all over. You can tell he’s inexperienced, but it doesn’t matter, he’s doing such a good job.

you feel so good, his tongue is too much, its all too much. You love him so much. And you cum unexpectedly, crying out his name, begging him to keep going and he whines. You thrash around and Choso keeps you steady, his strong hands grasping your hips.

After youre done he keeps licking up your cum, making sure youre cleaned.

“Choso…stop, too much,” you say softly.

He pulls away.

His face is covered in your juices, dripping all the way down his neck. And he looks so happy. He stands up, like its on instinct. He needs to hold you.

He grabs you into his arms and plop down onto the bed, with you on his chest. He squeezes you into him, kissing your hair while you slide your panties on again.

“mine,” he says softly. youre his now.

You look up at him, searching his eyes, “Choso i wanna um…you know,” you gesture to his crotch. you want to make him feel good too.

but he looks away shyly. its embarrassing and pathetic, “i um..,” he sits up with you in his lap.

He doesnt feel hard under you anymore. And then it clicks.

“oh my god did you…”

he blushes furiously and nods, “its embarrassing,” he had cum in his pants the second he put his face in your bare pussy.

“no! no…it’s really…hot,” you reason and he looks less embarrassed. He looks into your eyes then, looks at your pretty little face and he already knows he wants you to be his forever.

“do you want to be my girlfriend?” he asks nervously.

you giggle and nod eagerly, jumping on him, wrapping your arms around him and nuzzling into his neck.

hes the luckiest man in the world he thinks. And you both fall asleep, you laying on his chest.

.⋅ ۵♡۵ ⋅.

guys they didn’t actually fuck and i’m SORRY

now….part 4?? hey!!! HEY OKAY IM SORRY!! comment if yall want more ill do a lil short one where buddy ACTUALLY looses his virginity.

taglist:

@iqzo @multy-fandom-lover

#choso x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #choso #choso fluff #choso kamo #choso kamo smut #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo x you #choso smut #kamo choso #kamo choso x reader

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gabseyoo · 10 days ago

Text

FIFTEEN SECONDS — SAKUSA KIYOOMI

content: female reader, friends to lovers, love confession, fluff, bit of comedy. word count: 1,2k.

note: here’s a little something for valentine’s day, hope you like it!

What should I say?

“Here.” No, too dry.

“Here, it’s for you.” Shit, still too dry.

“I bought this for you, I hope you like it.” Okay, that one wasn’t so bad.

For the past ten minutes, Kiyoomi had been locked in a brutal staring contest with the small black box sitting on the café table. The thing wasn’t even looking at him, and yet he was the one losing.

This was ridiculous. He was ridiculous.

He had bought the damn gift two weeks ago. Two weeks of overthinking, of waiting for the perfect moment, of nearly shoving it to the back of his closet out of sheer nerves. But then Valentine’s Day crept up on him, and he thought—maybe this was fate giving him a chance.

Or setting him up for humiliating rejection.

Kiyoomi had rehearsed this moment in his head. And still, here he was, breaking into a nervous sweat over a bracelet. What if you didn’t like it? What if you thought it was stupid? What if you liked someone else?

Then, in the middle of his internal crisis, a familiar voice nearly made him jump.

“Hey, Kiyoomi.”

He looked up so fast he almost knocked the gift off the table. There you were, standing in front of him with that impossibly pretty smile, your presence alone enough to make his pulse go haywire.

“Did you already order, or should I—?” You asked as you sat down in front of him.

“I already did.” He forced his voice to stay steady. “Iced latte with two shots of vanilla, right?”

Your smile grew. “You know me so well.”

Yeah, because I’m hopelessly in love with you.

The words were right there. On the tip of his tongue.

Relax, Kiyoomi. Ease into it.

That was the smart thing to do. You didn’t just shove a confession at someone out of nowhere—there should be a conversation first, something natural.

“So, uh…” He wracked his brain for something—anything—normal to say. “How’s work?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “It’s fine?”

What the hell was that, Kiyoomi? It was comical how his calm and collected personality seemed to disappear at this moment when he needed it most. Was love always this complicated? Or was it because it was about you?

You tilted your head. “Are you okay?”

No. No, he was absolutely not okay. His fingers tapped anxiously against the small box. The longer he waited, the worse this was getting. His nerves were eating him alive. He could already feel the impending doom of chickening out.

Screw it.

With zero transition or warning, he grabbed the box and shoved it across the table. “Here.”

Goddamn it.

You blinked in surprise. “For me?”

A stiff nod. This was fine. You’d open it, love it, and then he’d tell you. Smooth. Simple. Foolproof.

Except…

You were taking your sweet time untying the ribbon.

Kiyoomi clenched his jaw, resisting the urge to do it for you. Why were you so slow? Was this some kind of test? Did you already know he was panicking and just wanted to see him suffer?

Finally, you lifted the lid. Your lips parted as you took out the delicate silver bracelet, the small star charm catching the café’s warm light.

“Oh, Kiyoomi…” You breathed. “It’s beautiful.”

His fingers twitched under the table as your eyes widened slightly. “Wait… this is—”

Kiyoomi looked away, pretending to be fascinated by the café menu on the wall. “Yeah.”

Your fingers traced the charm, realization dawning. “This is the bracelet from that shop at the mall, isn’t it?”

He cleared his throat. “Maybe.”

You turned to him, eyes suspiciously bright. “You went back for it?”

Kiyoomi picked up his coffee, taking a slow sip as if that would somehow make this moment less humiliating. “You wouldn’t stop staring at it.”

“I looked at it for like, five seconds.”

“It was at least fifteen.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re unbelievable.”

This was it. The perfect moment.

He took a breath, preparing to say the words that had been stuck in his chest for way too long.

“I—” He began, but the words he had rehearsed for days were interrupted when a waiter appeared at the table.

“Here’s your order! One vanilla iced latte and one black coffee.”

Kiyoomi clenched his jaw so hard he thought he might crack a tooth. Not now, man.

He nodded stiffly as you thanked the waiter. Okay, fine. Minor setback.

“What were you saying?” You asked after the guy turned around, taking a sip from your drink.

His heart was about to beat out of his chest. Now. Now is the time. Just say it: I like you.

Kiyoomi opened his mouth, determined to do it, but then—

“Do you need any sugar?”

Oh my god.

Kiyoomi glared at the waiter. Who was back. Did this man have a vendetta against his love life?

He mumbled a half-hearted, “No, thanks.”

“Cream?”

“No, thanks.”

“Any appetizer? We have a special red velvet cake because of Valentine's Day.”

Was this a joke?

“We’re fine.”

“Actually, I want a slice of cake.” You said.

Before the waiter could leave, Kiyoomi muttered, “Make that two.”

The guy finally left, and he was beginning to get irritated by his bad luck.

Just do it now! He scrambled at himself mentally.

“Y/N, I bought–” He hurried to say, but then the loud hiss from the blender machine drowned out his voice.

Was this the universe making fun of him?

By now, he was one more interruption away from actually losing it. So, ignoring the annoying noise, he decided to just keep going, “I bought this because–”

“Oh! Look at that dog outside.”

Kiyoomi stopped mid-sentence as you turned to the window, grinning at a fluffy golden retriever wagging its tail on the sidewalk. Are you serious?

But, when he turned back to you, you were watching him with amusement.

You two made eye contact for a few seconds, he blinked, you blinked, and then— you laughed.

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “What?”

You smirked. “Kiyoomi, don’t be so shy.”

His stomach dropped.

“I like you too.”

For a full three seconds, his brain just ceased to function.

You… what?

His ears burned. His grip tightened on his cup. His entire soul left his body. “You knew?”

You giggled, tapping his hand lightly. “Of course. I actually got something for you too.”

You reached into your bag and pulled out a small gift box, setting it on the table in front of him. Kiyoomi tried—really tried—not to look too eager as he picked it up and carefully lifted the lid.

Inside was a watch. The watch. The one he had lingered on in the mall that day.

“You looked at it for at least fifteen seconds.” You teased, a knowing smile playing on your lips.

Kiyoomi froze. His fingers tightened around the box as the realization sank in.

You had noticed. Just like he had noticed you staring at the bracelet. You both had thought of each other.

For a moment, he couldn’t speak. His throat felt tight, his chest oddly warm. He looked up at you, something soft, something real in his gaze.

“This is—”

“Here they are! Two slices of red velvet cake!”

Kiyoomi visibly twitched.

Oh, come on!

#𐀔 — mar wrote this.#— drabbles #— hq #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x you #sakusa x you #sakusa x reader #sakusa drabble #sakusa imagines #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x you #msby fluff #msby x reader

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luv-lock · 2 months ago

Note

Do you think Bruce would introduce y/n to the justice league? I could totally see her simping over the flash (Or conner Kent 👀).

The first time you meet Conner, you’re immediately smitten. He’s tall, gorgeous, and has that perfect blend of confidence and awkward boy-next-door energy that you thrive on.

You don’t even bother introducing yourself properly. After the initial “Hey, pretty boy, wanna fuck?” incident, you lean into your new role as his unsolicited sugar mama.

Conner, tries to respond, but you’re already calculating how much of Bruce’s money you’ll need to spoil him.

During one mission, you dramatically announce, “Conner deserves everything! Clothes, gadgets, vacations—all on Daddy Bruce’s tab!”

Once, you bought him an entire motorcycle. When Bruce found out, he dragged you into the Batcave, his voice dangerously calm.

“Explain why my credit card statement says you purchased a $50,000 bike.”

“It’s for Conner. He deserves nice things.”

Bruce’s eye twitches. “Conner can fly. He doesn’t need a bike.”

You shrug. “But he looks so good on it, Bruce. Don’t be stingy.”

You’re constantly “borrowing” Bruce’s money for ridiculous things.

“Bruce, I need a million dollars.”

“For what?” he asks, already exhausted.

“To buy Conner a pony. He’s always wanted one.”

Bruce pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m not giving you a million dollars.”

“Fine,” you huff. “But don’t come crying to me when Conner’s sad and pony-less.”

You have a love-hate relationship with Diana. You’re in awe of her beauty, strength, and grace, but you’re also deeply insecure.

During one mission, you stop mid-battle to dramatically compare your boobs to hers, much to everyone’s horror.

“Diana,” you sniff, clutching your chest, “I’ll never be able to compete with perfection like yours. It’s not fair!”

Diana, ever graceful, reassures you, “You’re beautiful in your own right.”

“You’re just saying that because you’re perfect,” you reply, before glaring at Bruce. “He never says anything nice to me.”

Bruce, utterly done: “Because you don’t deserve it.”

During a training session, you randomly grab Diana’s hand and place it on your boobs.

“Feel that, Diana. Am I Amazon material yet?”

She humors you, nodding seriously. “You’re getting there.”

You: “If I bulk up, can I join Themyscira?”

Barry finds you hilarious. He loves how unfiltered you are, even when it gets way too inappropriate.

Once, during a mission, you casually said, “Barry, do you think you could vibrate fast enough to—”

Barry, cutting you off, flailing: “DO NOT FINISH THAT SENTENCE.”

You just smirk. “I’m just saying. There’s potential.”

He starts speed-dodging your flirting, but you’re persistent. “One day, Speedy, you’ll come around.”

You have exactly one question for Hal when you meet him:

“So, hypothetically, could you make a functional dild—”

Hal, already holding up a hand: “Nope. Don’t even finish that thought.”

You pout. “Why do you even have the ring if you’re not going to use it creatively?”

Clark tries his best to remain polite and patient, but you test his limits.

“You must’ve been sculpted by the gods,” you tell him once, blatantly checking him out. “What’s it like being perfect, superdaddy?”

“I… um… thank you?” Clark stammers, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck while Bruce glares daggers at you.

You immediately give Arthur the nickname “Aquadaddy” and refuse to call him anything else.

“Look at those arms, Aquadaddy. What’s your bench press, a blue whale?”

Arthur smirks, clearly amused. “Something like that.”

You: “Bet you could throw me across the room.”

Arthur: “Why would I do that?”

You: “For fun. And because I’d enjoy it.”

You’re also obsessed with his tattoos.

“Did it hurt? Can I touch them? Are you planning on getting more? What if we got matching ones?!”

He indulges you for about five seconds before realizing you’re just trying to find an excuse to grope his arm.

“You’re worse than Barry,” he mutters.

During an underwater mission, you accidentally blurted out, “Do mermaids exist? Be honest.”

Arthur: “They’re… complicated.”

You: “Complicated? Are they, like, your exes?”

Arthur groans, swimming away while you cackle.

You’ve made it your life’s mission to torment Bruce.

When the League gathers for a meeting, you always find a way to embarrass him. One time, you slid into the room dramatically, pointed at him, and declared, “That man is the reason I’m not married yet!”

Bruce: “How is this my fault?”

You grin. “Because I’ll never find another man who looks as good in a suit. You’ve ruined my standards.”

You are Bruce’s biggest headache. Every time he turns around, you’re doing something wildly inappropriate.

During a League movie night, you plop yourself on the floor between his legs, resting your head on his thigh.

“Your thighs are so firm, Bruce. You ever think about becoming a leg model?”

Bruce just stares down at you, utterly done. “Go sit somewhere else.”

You grin up at him. “Nope. This is my spot now.”

As unhinged as you are, everyone in the League has a soft spot for you. You make them laugh, even if it’s at Bruce’s expense.

And while your antics are embarrassing for Bruce, they all know you’re a fierce fighter and incredibly loyal. When it matters, you’ve got their backs—and they wouldn’t trade you for anything.

Except Bruce. Bruce would absolutely trade you for five minutes of peace.

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dalgomii · 2 months ago

Text

۪ ݁ 이마크 — the anatomy of 'home'.

• SYNOPSIS .. neither of you have all that much to your name. but, here, in the small sanctuary of your brand new—and still very vacanct—apartment, with a mattress for bed, a small kitchenette yet waiting to filled with the smell of home and living off of takeout to your heart's content, you just might have the most priceless thing in the world: happiness.

♡ WORD COUNT .. 2.5k

☆ NOTES .. established relationship. you and mark talking through the night over a pizza picnic, that's the story. got way too poetic and in my feels at the ending and then fumbled it lol. happy first tumblr post to me, yay! :)

Lately the pep in his steps have been noticeable. Even the mundane task of picking up delivery and climbing five flights of stairs because the elevator still hasn't been installed in the building couldn't dampen his mood. Mark walks in through the front door, practically skipping, two boxes of pizza in his hand.

Inside is like a sea of knicknacks yet to find their rightful place in the one bedroom apartment tucked into the heart of a bustling metropolis.

You smile up at him from where you are sitting, unboxing the things your mothers had insisted on buying in the name of home decor. "Done chatting up the delivery guy?"

Mark rolls his eyes, setting the food on the kitchen counter which was overflowing with utensils left to be stowed away. His gaze stops at your Harry Potter mug, one of the few things finally freed from your incessant overdone packing with the wrapping paper to make sure nothing broke during transit.

If the cogs of his brain cleared from the fog of bliss long enough, he would vividly recall the story of winning it at a fun fair — a mere consolation prize as opposed to the big pygmy puff plushie he'd originally promised you. Still, no matter your carefully hidden disappointment he'd assume, you had kept the mug, taking it out every morning for it to enable your insane caffeine consumption.

Perhaps it's the fact he'd seen it with you so many times, warming your hands on a cold morning or staining the corners of the Sunday newspaper acting as paperweight, Mark had forgotten it was his to begin with.

"For your information, I was getting the scoop on the local restaurants. So when you come home too tired to cook, I can swoop in to save the day."

"So heroic, my knight in shining... takeout boxes? You know all this could be avoided if you just learnt to cook?" Your sarcasm is met with bubbling laughter, making you beam up at him. "Come here for a sec. How does this look?"

Raising a brow, Mark goes to stand right behind you, narrowing his eyes at the wall of cat pictures and movie posters framed above a white table that held up a shimmering and ridiculously fragile glass vase.

He frowned at a couple things he thought had long since lost, in his childhood home or the studio apartment he used to shared with three others which looked like it was struck by a hurricane on a good day, hung up on the tiny bit of space by his bookshelf.

Specifically a Wham! vinyl.

The one you'd bought Mark on his first birthday that you spent together as a couple. The effect of the years passed is visible on the not-so-shiny black surface marred with misplaced dents and scratches. Yet the 'I know you've wanted this for a long time. Happy Birthday, rockstar' written in black sharpie onto the center label is still as fresh as his memory of receiving it.

"It's pretty," he states finally, genuinely, and hopes to God he played it cool enough. But who was he kidding? Five years of desperately trying to be nonchalant wouldn't have been comparable to a second spent being yours. Mark adds as an afterthought, "Let's hope it stays that way if we stumble into it."

You can't help a snort, "If? More like 'when'. Your foot eye coordination is whack in the morning."

Mark lets out a scandalized gasp, pointing at you, "Take that back right now".

And you, being the responsible, independent, tax-paying adult, stick your tongue out at him making him shake his head before looking back at the picturesque nook in your new residence.

"We need to get some flowers for the vase, huh?"

"Hm? Oh, yeah", you smile over a stifled yawn, pretty and serene, stretching your hand up to your boyfriend. He takes it as cue to pull you up from the ground. His hand remains twined with yours even after you're standing. "Peace lilies. And maybe chrysanthemums for a pop of color?"

Mark finds himself grinning at your hopeful gaze, bringing your joined hands to his lips. "Anything you want. We can go first thing in the morning."

He feels his eyes widen when you cross the small distance between you, pressing a kiss to his jaw. "Thank you, you're the best," you whisper, brushing a few strands of his fringe away from his forehead before you moved away, leaving Mark standing there frozen like a statue. A very red in the face statue.

He thinks you know exactly how to make him weak in the knees.

You stand in the middle of the clustered living room, every inch of space on the floor filled with cardboard boxes and your belongings packed with bubble wrap. "I don't think we can finish this today. Plus, it's getting late. Let's just eat and go to bed, yeah?"

But everything you say goes in one ear and out the other. It's baffling how many times Mark would get stuck in his head over the smallest thing about you.

It's more of a habit he'd developed – or so his friends insist – back when he first met you at orientation on campus.

No, you weren't a wide-eyed freshmen and he wasn't one either. Yet, somehow the friend-of-the-world music major had managed to stumble upon the live art workshop your department had set up.

From then on, it was only ever "Did you see how beautiful her eyes are? It's like the whole galaxy is mapped in them!" or "She's so recklessly kind, dude! Today she ran into traffic to save this one old lady's cat! How much more perfect can she be?"

Mark Lee isn't a stranger to waxing poetics– hell, he does that for a living, writing lyrics with the power to make people laugh out loud, be a metaphorical shoulder for people to cry on, to feel so intensely with just words alone.

But then every syllable fails him when it comes to you, a soul so beyond the realm of letters and alphabets that nothing he could ever scrap together feels enough.

It's like the universe had decided from the very first moment you both locked eyes that this was it for him.

Mark knew it when you waved at him with amusement threaded into your expression from behind the stand you were running and he reciprocated shyly after looking around to make sure at least twenty times that it was indeed him you were waving at.

When Mark asked for your number after finishing a basketball game as state level champions because the adrenaline high of the win and the elation in having spotted you cheering him on as he nailed the deciding shot from halfway across the court turned him into his most confident self — only to be reduced to a stuttering mess when you saved his contact on your phone, blowing him a flying kiss goodbye before walking off alongside your giggling friends.

When his idea of a perfect first date to a fancy rooftop restaurant got rained on, and just when Mark was considering to never show you his face ever again, you both ended up in the backseat of his car on a McDonald's parking lot, talking and laughing and he found out that you were just as much of a rambler as him.

When a houseparty his friend Jaemin was throwing in their new shared apartment landed you on his bed, your lips like a safe haven, searing affection and praises onto his skin. That night Mark had been afraid to so much as go to sleep, scared that he would wake up to an empty room, and perhaps a half-assed note saying if he was a good fuck.

So he had stayed up till the wisps of dawn graced the city, holding you close and kissing your forehead over and over again. When you woke up, you had caught him in his bluff immediately, coming over that afternoon just to make sure he actually slept for more than an hour.

Mark thought love was a frightening emotion, too large for fickle mortal lives, too complex to fully comprehend.

And maybe he wouldn't really ever understand love in it's entirety, but he did see a version of it in you — one that was tailored for him and him only.

Mark knew it especially when after an entire year of flirty back and forths, holding each other through your biggest wins and losses, learning to be so well-versed in each other that it surpassed rationale, he asked you out.

You hadn't been particularly ecstatic, claiming you were going to ask him first but just as quick, your arms coiled around him in a tight embrace under the stars painted across the vast expanse of the universe witnessing that one deserted beach at exactly midnight.

Mark Lee fell in love with your smile but he kept falling over and over again for your heart. A heart that is irrefutably made of gold.

And he knew that if given the chance, he would remind you just how precious you are and how precious whatever it is you share is, over and over again till the sky falls.

It took Mark a while to bring you down from the pedestal he'd put you on, to accept that your love for him is as real as the existence of the world. Perhaps a speck of cosmic dust in the grand scheme of things but, to you, it is life.

That when you said "I want you to try hard, but try hard to be the best self of you. Mark, you're the sweetest, most hard-working person I have ever gotten the chance to know. So, please, don't take him away from me", you had meant every word.

It takes you snapping your fingers in front of his face to bring him out of his thoughts. You stand before him in a baggy t-shirt — one of his that you'd stolen ("permanently borrowed", you'd correct him) saying his detergent smelled better than your own — and your hair an untamed mess. You're the most beautiful person he had ever seen.

"Mark?" You whine again, cradling his face in your palms. "Baby, don't zone out again. Food?"

Huffing a laugh, Mark pulls you towards the kitchen island with a hand around your waist, "I'm here, I promise. Where do you wanna eat?"

You survey the living room that had turned into your temporary storehouse in dismay. "Dinner in bed?"

"Minus the bedframe, you mean?" Mark muses making you wail.

"Oh my God, for the last time, I'm sorry I didn't check the delivery date was so far away. Please forgive me, good sir!"

Mark clicks his tongue in faux contemplation, biting back a smile at your dramatics. "I'll think about it."

Pouting, you help Mark set the pizza boxes down by the matress in the middle of the bedroom floor, dragging him down to sit beside you. "What will it take for you to forgive me?"

"Hmm... A few kisses and maybe something else?" He smirks, wriggling his eyebrows and causing you to smack his chest.

"You're such a man," you hiss and then with a coy look, push him down to lay on his back as your straddle his waist. "Though, that can be arranged," you whisper low and sweet, but right as Mark's hands grip your hips, you roll away towards the food, "After we eat. I'm starving!"

"A minx, that's what you are!" Groaning, Mark drags you back into him, tickling your sides till you are begging to be freed.

Dinner goes on without either of you bothering to put something on the background. The T.V. isn't installed yet and though you have your laptops, the comfortable silence and occasional sparks of conversation are more than welcome.

"You think we were meant to meet?" You ask out of the blue, when the moon is high in the sky. There are empty pizza boxes crushed into the trashcan and two half-empty beer bottles rest by your feet. Your fingers trace mindless patterns on Mark's chest, nuzzling into his side while he leans against the wall as though it's a makeshift headboard. “Like there’s a huge, incomprehensible divine plan that we’re just... following?”

"Yeah," Mark says simply. Though you would loath to admit it, you admire Mark’s easy belief in his own convictions. "I think that people have, like, agency and responsibility and stuff, like – okay, so we met, but me asking for your number after that game, or asking you to move in with me was on me. The big stuff, that’s fate, or the plan, or whatever you wanna call it. But we can still choose where we go from there."

"So me and you — that’s the big stuff?" You ask teasingly, and nudge Mark with your shoulder.

He sputters comically, well-practiced indignation clear on his face, "Shut up, I’m trying to have a philosophical debate here.” But his pink ears betray him, a pretty flush creeping towards his neck.

"I kinda like the idea that it’s all random, though," you say. "Like, if everything’s a coincidence. If everything leading to this moment was just a lucky series of accidents. Don’t you think that makes it special?"

"I guess." Mark looks up at the clear doors leading to the balcony, one of the deciding factors in you settling for this building complex. The stars linger in the night like paint splattered on a dark canvas.

Back in his small shared rental, sitting out on his balcony at 3am smoking with his friends, he could count them on one hand.

The city is a graveyard of these stars, he has learned. Millions of wishes and dreams burdened onto the ones that make it past the blanket of smog just to be seen.

It takes him back to that small secluded beach in Busan, on a fleeting night amongst so many other insignificant ones. Two people, barely learning their place in the word, so utterly wrapped up in each other.

There, away from the glow of 10 million or so human lives, the stars were endless and shining in a way the city never lets them.

"It makes me feel like my life is really worth something," you continue, quieter, "If I’m here by accident, and I’m the product of so many billions of years of accidents. It makes me feel lucky. And it makes me grateful for the chance. To, you know, make something of that."

That night five years ago, maybe you both were different people, not at all the souls that remain in your body today. But if there's one secret of existence Mark had started to figure out, it would be that any version of him that came to be since you crossed paths, each one of them was utterly and irrevocably taken by the versions of you which followed.

And destiny may as well be a glorified lie crafted by people to make sense of this larger than life magnitude of adoration they can hold for another.

But Mark hopes, with everything he has, that destiny has led every variant of you and him across the universe into each others arms. Home.

©DALGOMII, 2024

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vrystalius · 2 months ago

Text

The best gift

It’s the best time of the year — gifting season! So, your husband decided to gift himself to you as a gift… how will they do it?

Pairing: Sanemi, Kyojuro, Gyomei, Giyuu x gn!reader

MDNI- Minors do not interact please! This is slight NSFW/very suggestive.

Sanemi Shinazugawa

After pondering and visiting all kinds of stores across Japan while he’s supposed to be hunting and slaying demons, Sanemi figured the best gift he could give you is himself. What more would you want besides snacks and your dear husband? But since it’s the holiday season, why not present himself like a proper gift.

Sanemi tried to bind himself with the help of thick ribbons, but one can only do a good job with one hand and under time pressure to get ready before you call him over to open gifts, so his appearance now looks more like a last minute thought rather than a carefully thought out plan to seduce you with him being presented to you like a beautiful gift you could use all for your needs, whatever they might be.

After binding his hands together, Sanemi slapped one last bow in the center of his naked chest (and a smaller one right above his crotch area) as a finishing touch and proceeded to seat himself next to the beautifully decorated Christmas tree, waiting on you to notice your impatient, half naked husband trying to appear alluring while also not being able to move too much without compromising the ribbons.

“What are ya waiting for? You want me to oil up as well or something?!”

Actually, thanks to the tape he used, after being freed and unwrapped by you, Sanemi got a very cheap hair removal job. You had to treat the burn marks while he fussed about them not being a big deal.

Kyojuro Rengoku

After taking Tengen’s joke about gifting himself to his wife for the holidays too serious, Kyojuro bought multiple packages of red and gold wrapping paper, sparkly ribbons and a large bow as a final detail. First, he tried to wrap every limb individually but realised that he looked like a very unloved robot with all the tube looking shapes and wrinkled paper, so Kyojuro tried again. This time, he wrapped himself whole and just kinda sat beside the decorated tree in the living room, looking like a sack of potatoes that was decorated by golden ribbons and bows. Despite his appearance, your husband was waiting for you to finally unwrap him.

Although he does feel slightly guilty for just making a scrap book containing all of your memories together that looks more like a toddler’s art project rather than a sincere attempt to eternalise the best memories of you two and then wrap himself in wrapping paper and present himself as your second and probably better gift.

But as you free Kyojuro from the paper prison he put himself in and help him get untangled from all the mess, he was delighted to hear you laugh at his ridiculous idea and unforgettable sight of Kyojuro being wrapped in wrapping paper with just his head being exposed.

“A-Ah, I’m glad you enjoyed… well, me! I suppose you can now whatever you like with me, I am at your complete service!”

Gyomei Himejima

Believe it or not, Gyomei’s first idea about gifting himself to you were a little less than innocent. You never knew about this, but your husband is actually quite knowledgeable when it comes to Shibari— a bondage method that is not just purely for sexual purposed but rather for the aesthetic appearance of a carefully and thought-through bondage of a body and the trust needed to submit to your partner. Thanks to Gyomei’s build and stature, it can be hard for him to submit to you fully, as he can easily and accidentally break free from any restraint, ruining the fantasy. But with Shibari it would be much easier, more intimate too.

Instead of making it a surprise that he himself is the gift, your husband suggested that you could bind him with deep red ropes while Gyomei instructs you on what to do in every step, together creating a beautiful art piece out of your husband’s body, the ropes deliciously highlighting his soft chest and relaxed muscle and made Gyomei shiver in delight multiple times throughout the process, sending all the excitement down to his groin.

By the end of tying him down on your bed (the link is from google and sfw), your husband slightly regretted giving up all of his power to you like never before, as you could now tease and play with him until he is in tears, although Gyomei wouldn’t mind that much. You just need to loosen the ties around his crotch a little, it’s getting very tight down there.

“Please don’t tease me too much, I’m not sure how much I can handle, pearl.”

(Normally, praying away the impure thoughts always helped with his bodily reaction, but you gently tugging on the ropes and being fully at your mercy awakened something in that man that was not possible to be prayed away.)

Giyuu Tomioka

He actually had no idea what else he could buy for you as a gift. Giyuu buys you a fresh batch of flowers after every mission, he cooks and cleans whenever he is able to, he gets you small gifts like trinkets, accessories and clothes throughout the year anyway, so what else can he give you? Standing inside a gifts shop stressed him out severely as he was worried about if you either already have the item he was looking at, if you really would appreciate this neat gadget he found or even like the cute plush he found.

Giyuu then just bought a ribbon and wrapped it around his neck and decorated it with a cute ribbon, then awkwardly stood in the door frame of your bedroom, trying to look at least a little alluring by posing slightly.

“This… is rather stupid, but I am all yours. Your gift.“

After standing there for a couple of seconds in silence, Giyuu sighed deeply and let the cringe overtaking his body.

“Never mind. I’m getting you something else.”

💠

Merry Christmas and happy holidays everyone!! I am back from my break and Demon Slayer brainrot found itself back into my brain after getting access to VR Worlds and joining a couple kny worlds as Mitsuri and my Douma cosplay arriving— I still need to style and trim it a little but I am SO EXCITED FOR IT!! Anyways, I hope everyone is doing well 🫶 I wish everyone happy holidays and a lot of fun, good food, wanted gifts and a warm home <33

Anyways, again, make sure to EAT, DRINK and SLEEP enough <3

Take care of yourselves <3

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gojodickbig · 3 months ago

Text

it's 5 AM, i'm dead tired, but i just saw this tiktok and immediately thought gojo would totally love this challenge so i HAD to write something!!! help guys miss him so much, it’s pathetic😭😓

cont: crack and fluff fluff fluff!!

wc: 1,3k.

divider from @uzmacchiato !!

satoru burst through the door with a shopping bag in hand, grinning like he’d just won the lottery. “alright, baby, drop whatever boring thing you’re doing. i’ve got a challenge for us!” he said, plopping down onto the couch next to you.

you glanced up from your book, narrowing your eyes. “satoru, the last time you said that, you tried to teach me how to salsa dance.”

he grinned even wider. “hey, that was a legendary performance!”

you raised an eyebrow. “legendary performance? you fell flat on your face.”

“it was part of the performance,” he shrugged, brushing it off. “but this is totally different! i saw this challenge on tiktok—maybe instagram? nah, probably youtu—whatever, doesn’t matter. the point is, one person wears flavored lipstick, and the other has to guess the flavor while blindfolded! so funny, huh?”

you raised an eyebrow. “and you bought lipsticks for this?”

“of course!” he pulled out a box of neon-colored lipsticks with ridiculous flavor names, clearly proud of his purchase. “i didn’t want to half-ass it. I even got the fancy ones.”

you blinked at him, bemused. “you really saw it and immediately decided to try it?”

“well, yeah.” he leaned closer, grinning. “i can’t miss a chance to prove my superior taste buds—and besides, you get the chance to kiss me a bunch of times. it’s a win-win. so, what do you say, sweetheart?”

“yeah, sure.” you sighed, rolling your eyes, but a small smile tugged at your lips. “i’d say you’re literally delusional. but… fine, i’ll humor you this time.”

“i knew you couldn’t resist me,” he said, already tying the blindfold around his head, winking like he was about to perform some epic magic trick. “let’s do this!”

you grabbed the first lipstick, twisting the cap. the sweet scent of cherry filled the air as you swiped it on. “alright. first flavor. let’s see how good your taste buds really are.”

he grinned under the blindfold and leaned in, his hands brushing over your face. his kiss was deliberate, slow—definitely more than just a “guessing” kiss. when he pulled back, he smacked his lips together like he was really trying to analyze it.

“hmmm… strawberry?”

you raised an eyebrow. “wrong.”

he tilted his head, eyes narrowing like he was deeply offended. “what? no way. it has to be strawberry.” he leaned in again, much slower this time, brushing his lips against yours as if he were reading the flavors.

pulling back, he licked his lips. “peach!”

“nope.”

“what?!!! come on, one more time. i’m right this time, i can feel it,” he said with a pout, already leaning back in.

“soda.”

you leaned back slightly, trying not to laugh. “nope, you’re not even close.”

he paused, staring at you through the blindfold as if you were personally betraying him. “wait… are you messing with me? like, really?”

“i’m literally not!” you said, rolling your eyes and trying (and failing) to hide your smile. “what would be the point of the challenge if i were cheating?! your taste buds just suck, apparently!”

gojo rolled his eyes dramatically under his blindfold. “alright, alright. i’ll nail it this time.” he leaned in for another kiss, his lips brushing yours like he was savoring every second. when he pulled back, he slapped a hand to his forehead.

“it’s apple. I’m sure of it,” he said with a confident grin.

“nope.”

“are you kidding me? i’m being sabotaged. this is a joke.” he dramatically wiped an imaginary tear from his eye.

“you’ve got it all wrong,” you said, biting your lip to keep from laughing.

you were starting to lose track of how many lipsticks had been applied at this point, each kiss lasting longer than the last, with gojo growing increasingly determined (or, at least, pretending to be). by the time you got to the cola-flavored one, you couldn’t take it anymore.

you ripped his blindfold off and glared at him. “satoru, you greedy little shit. you’re saying the wrong flavors on purpose just because you want more kisses!”

his mouth fell open, and he looked shocked, clutching his chest in faux offense. “me? i would never! i’m an honest man, i swear.”

you crossed your arms, unimpressed. his lips were twitching as if he was fighting back a grin.

he leaned in slowly, eyes twinkling with mischief. “okay, fine, you caught me.” he cupped your face and gently stroked your cheek, then kissed you again, just a little more slowly this time, as if savoring the moment.

you muttered, half-pouting, “you’re ridiculous. if you wanted to kiss me, you could’ve just said so.” but you weren’t fooling anyone—your cheeks were flushed, and your heart was racing a little faster than you’d like to admit. “no more kisses for you! you’ve had enough for today and for the rest of the week!”

gojo paused, looking at you with an exaggerated pout, then whispered, “just one more for the road?”

“satoru!”

#gojo satoru #satoru gojo #satoru gojo fluff #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x f!reader #satoru gojo x female reader #gojo x reader #gojo x female reader #gojo x f!reader #jjk satoru gojo #jjk gojo #jujutsu kaisen gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen satoru gojo #jujutsu kaisen gojo #satoru gojo x y/n #gojo x yn #gojo fluff #jujutsu kaisen #jjk

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thebestsetter · 5 months ago

Text

Part 1

Thinking about Isagi Yoichi being a nervous wreck for your guys first date.

He doesn't even know how he managed to get you to say yes to his shitty proposal. It all went wrong, but, as always, you made the wrong seem right and did the unthinkable: you agreed to going on a date with him.

This date needed to go perfectly. He can't mess this opportunity up. You were going to see how he's the perfect boyfriend for you, both gentle and funny, and accept his "proposal" when he asked the awaited question: "Do you want to be my girlfriend?".

I mean, c'mon, going on a date with a girl can't be that hard, right...? Well, for Isagi it sure was. Because it wasn't just a girl. It was you. And that thought alone made him feel like he might faint on the spot.

And so, the week preceding your date with him, Yoichi is planning everything meticulously. He needed every help he could get.

And who is better to help him than his friends?

7 days before the date.

"No, no!" Isagi screamed "She wouldn't act like that! You're not helping at all, Nagi."

"I wanna sleep." Seishiro said, removing the phone that he was holding in front of his face with your picture on it "Why does it have to be with me and in my room? Can't you practice in front of a mirror or something?"

"It doesn't feel the same!" Isagi huffed, running his hands through his hair "Just one more time. Remember, I helped you hide from Barou when he chased after you for wetting the bed with your hair, and you said you owned me one. Therefore, you're repaying me and can't run away from this."

"Okay then" Nagi snored, and put the phone with your photo in front of his face again

"Try to get her personality right this time" Isagi rolled his eyes and grabbed the paper with his speech. The moment he looked at your face, he blushed hard. Boy, he was so head over heels for you it was almost ridiculous. "Hey! How are you today? Hope you're doing fine!" Okay, great start. I didn't stutter. This is going to be perfect.

"Hello Yoichi-kun. I'm fine, thank you for asking. How about you." Nagi said monotonously while reading his own paper with the phrases he was supposed to say. It was actually kinda funny how he said this without any emotion.

"I was doing well, but I'm feeling e-even better now that you're here!" Yoichi said and shot Nagi finger guns while showing a strained smile. "So, where do you wanna sit--"

"Nagi! I bought you some lemon tea!!--"

"REO! KNOCK BEFORE ENTERING." Isagi said while his cheeks burned with a red so bright you could amost see smoke coming out his ears.

"Isagi. What the actual fuck--"

6 days before the date.

"I'm surprised you even decided to help me" Yoichi said while looking at a menu

"It's out of pity" Reo, who was sitting in front of him, said "You are helpless. But I'm gonna help you make her have the best date of her life" he smirked

Doing a signal with his hands, Reo called his driver, who parked the car right in front of their table.

"Okay. Now, get into the car."

"Uh... where are we going?? I thought you told me to meet you here so we could practice how I would act."

"And that's exactly what we're gonna do. Just get into the car, don't you trust me?"

'No I don't' Isagi thought, but he didn't say anything. He stepped into the car, obtaining a smirk from Reo, who also entered the vehicle.

"See, that wasn't that hard, was it?" His smirk widened, but soon disappeared when Mikage put on a serious face "Now, pretend I'm her. Here's the situation: we just got to the place of the date and we're about to leave the car. What do you do?"

"I... open the car door, get out and close it right after."

"Wrong. You open the car door, get out, hold it for her so she can also exit and then close it. Geez, this is going to be harder than I thought." Reo sighed "Now, let's practice. Do what I just told you"

Isagi nodded. He then opened the door, got out of the car and held it open so Reo could also exit.

Just when he thought it was all going well, a bee landed on his nose. Desperate to scare the insect, he started to shake his hands in front of his nose

"Shoo! Shoo!"

"OUCH!"

"Oh shit." The same hand he was using to scare the bee away was also the hand he was previously using to hold the car door. And his hand couldn't do 2 things at the same time. So, when he released the door, it strongly hit Reo's face.

"Shit. Reo, I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry too, but it's not because of me" Reo made an angry face while rubbing his forehead "I'm sorry for your date. Let's try again. Do it properly this time."

With a sigh, Isagi entered the car again.

5 days before the date.

"I can't believe I'm gonna say this, but I need your help, Otoya." Yoichi said and swallowed hard, knowing that his next words would be a punch to his ego, but it needed to be done. "I'm a disaster! When I was training with Reo, I spilled coffe on him, the car door hit his face and I made him fall when I pulled the chair so he could sit on it. And I know you talk to a lot of girls, so you must know what to do."

"You came to the right place, dude." Otoya smirked and held open his shared dorm's door "Fear not, me and Tabito are going to help you get that girl."

Okay. When he said they'd "help him make you fall for him", he didn't imagine it meant watching Otoya flirting with Karasu wearing a wig for 10 minutes straight.

"Did you take notes?" Eita asked

"Yeah, I did" Isagi bashfully answered while holding up the little notebook he had in hand, which was full of notes about Otoya's advices on how to "step up his game".

"Okay, now it's your turn." The ninja said, seating down

"W-what? I didn't know I would also have to flirt with Karasu"

"It's for practice only! And you just have to pretend it's not me" Tabito answered, and then made a high pitched voice "I'm the girl you like!" He battered his eyelashes and put his hands together.

"S-sure..." Yoichi said, getting up "Okay so... uhm... how do I start?"

"Tell her a pick up line"

"Any?"

"Any."

"...do you play soccer? Cause you're a keeper." followed by finger guns.

The silence in the room was almost papable. Otoya and Karasu exchanged looks. Isagi was sweating. Karasu and Otoya locked gazes again. And then all of a sudden...

They began to laugh. Hard.

"Oh shit..." Karasu said, wiping away a tear from his eyes "This was so bad!"

"I know, right?" Otoya agreed "He did the finger guns and all that"

"W-what?! Was it that bad??"

"The worst I've ever seen. I wish i had recorded it"

"Nah, don't worry. I did, it's right here."

"KARASU, DELETE THAT RIGHT NOW."

4 day before the date

"Okay..." Chigiri said, analysing Isagi's hair "Based on the shape of your head, we could do a buzzcut. Ladies like it."

"You're sure you know how to cut people's hair right?" Isagi asked nervously

"Yeah I do. Just sit back, relax and let me do my thing"

With a sigh, Isagi sat down on a chair in his room, patting his pants with his hands

"It's just that this week has been absolute hell for me! I screw everything up everytime I try to practice for my date! The way things are going, she's going to hate it! I'm actually so scared right now you have no idea"

"I didn't remember telling you I could be your therapist" Chigiri smirked (what's with his friends always smirking at him??) "But if I coukd give my input in this, I'd say you just need to be yourself. Don't try to change. You're a nice guy, I'm sure she'll like the date"

"That... actually helped. Thank you Chigiri."

"You're welcome."

Wow. Things were going great for once. Nothing bad had happened! Maybe it meant that his luck was back, and the date was going to actually go as planeed!

"Uhm... Chigiri. There's hair in my nose"

"Just brush it off"

"I'm scared to move"

"Why? Just take it off"

"If I don't move, nothing can go wrong"

"Ugh, I'll take it off for you, you traumatized coward"

Yoichi discovered something today: his nose is very sensible. He just wishes he had discovered it in a different way.

*ATCHOO*

"Fuck."

"What? Is it over?"

"I'm done here. I did my work." Chigiri said in a hurry, packing his things quickly and then leaving. But before he stepped out the door, he shouted "I'd suggest you look at the mirror" he then smiled worriedly and shut the door

"Look in the mirror? What does he even mean...?"

When Isagi saw the hole in his hair, he let out a scream the whole neighbourhood heard.

The third day before the date was spent solving the hair issue

2 days before the date

"I don't have clothes."

"What do you mean you don't have clothes? What about all of these T-shirts on the floor?"

"None of them are good enough!" Isagi shouted

"I think you're too worried about this date" Hiori commented "Everything will go just fine, don't worry"

"Yeah! You just have to act as yourself!" Bachira added "If she accepted to go out with you, it means she already likes you, even if just a little!"

"I don't know, I think I might just cancel it. I think I'm too plain and boring for her?? I don't really know it anymore, man."

"There's NO WAY you're going to cancel it" Hiori said. With a jump, he got up from Isagi's bed, held his shoulders ans shook them while he spoke to him "Listen here tou little shit: I will NOT tolerate your endless rambling about her anymore. You finally got a date with her and want to throw it all away because of some senseless insecurity?? She accepted because she already likes you, Isagi. You don't need a whole new personality, new looks or anything. Just go as yourself. I can't take you talking about how you wish you were her boyfriend and all the things you want to do with her. Just grow a pair of balls and go to that date, goddamit!"

A gentle silence settled on the room

"He's right, you know?" Bachira broke the silence, unusually serious "You don't need to be Otoya, Reo or Karasu to make her like you. Just do what you'd normally do. I'm sure she'll like it"

"I think you guys are right" Isagi said, smiling "I'll just be myself!" He looked at the air and clenched his fist, doing a celebration and determined pose.

"Yeah!" Bachira hyped him up "That's the spirit! "

"Just drop the finger guns please" Hiori joked

"WHAT'S WRONG WITH MY FINGER GUNS??"

The day of the date.

He wasn't as nervous anymore. The talk with Hiori and Bachira really did help him, after all. He was actually determined.

You both were going to enjoy the date. He would make sure of it.

"Wow. You look beautiful" Isagi said, looking you up and down when he saw you at the restaurant. Turns out Reo's lesson was useless, since you both didn't share a car together.

"Thank you!" You said, giggling "You also look very handsome if I do say so myself!"

Isagi reached for the hand that was behind his back and pulled out a red rose

"For me?" You smiled, grabbed the rose and sniffled it. And oh, how he wished you'd smile only at him for the rest of his and your life. It made him feel even better knowing that he was the one who made you smile so brightly

He gently grabbed the flower from your hands and put it in your hair, putting a strand of your hair behind your ear in the process, careful to not let the thorns prickle you. He then smiled and grabbed your hands, looking you straight in the eye

"It reminded me of you, since you're both pretty"

Old habits die hard, they say. And so, even though everyone told him not to do it, he did it. The finger guns.

"I-it was cringy, wasn't it?" He said, nervous, when he saw you laughing at his (pathetic) attempt at flirting

"No it wasn't. I think it's kinda cute, actually" you linked both your arms together and smiled at him again (damn woman, did you want to kill him?) "Now let's go have the best date ever!"

You were perfect. And so, when you both entered the restaurant, there was only three things on Isagi's head, and he would make sure that all of them were going to happen.

Be yourself.

Enjoy.

Make her smile.

And so, you both went inside the restaurant, ready for fun and not knowing you'd get out with a new title that you would both proudly wear: "boyfriend and girlfriend".

~ A/N: Not proofread!! Also, I actually hate this sm omg

#blue lock #bllk #blue lock x reader #bllk manga #bllk x reader #bllk x you #blue lock x you #isagi x you #isagi x reader #isagi x y/n #bllk isagi #isagi yoichi #loser isagi holds a special place in my heart

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itsascreambaby96 · 2 years ago

Note

Could you please write a poly!ghostface X reader friends to lovers smut (w/ some fluff)

I had so much fun with this! Thank you so much for the request! I hope you enjoy it! Please leave feedback🩷

(A/N: Header by me)

Warnings: SMUT! 18+, mdni. fem!reader. Oral both female and male recieving. Name calling, pet names, p in v sex. No use if condom(be responsible please, life isn't fanfiction). Drinking. Everyone in this fic is over 18. if I missed anything please let me know.

Pairing: Stu Macher x fem!reader x Billy Loomis

Word count: 6.7k

Just the three of us

You and Stu have been best friends since first grade. You were paired to sit together. Initially you thought he was pretty annoying. Always talking, not paying much attention and messing up your work. Little you was really ready to throw hands. Stu loved annoying you! He thought that was the best way to make friends. Taking away the pens you needed to finish your drawing in art class. Or copying your maths notes. Always asking you ridiculous questions that he knew you couldn't answer. He thought it funny how your little face scrunched up. Little Stu was a menace. But he didn't take too kindly to other kids picking on you. It almost never happened.

But when one of the older boys pushed you into the dirt one day, with your new dress, which he knew was new because he's never seen you wear it before and you told him so and were so happy about it, it was over. He didn't care that the boy was older than him, and slightly taller, he threw himself at the boy and a fight broke loose. The teacher pulled them apart. Stu was dirty but he didn't care. All he cared for was you. So once the teacher's were done with their chiding he ran to look for you. He didn't have to go very far as you were waiting for him. He thought you would snap at him but you gave him the biggest hug you could. Stu didn't know it yet but his heart skipped a beat and would do so ever since when you hugged him. Ever since then the two of you have been inseparable. He still annoyed you during classes but now you knew that he didn't mean bad by it and always had a smart comeback to his weird questions. No one could come between the two of you.

Or so you thought. Once you two entered middle school Stu met a new friend. His name was Billy. Suddenly Stu spent every minute with him. You hated it. You tried confronting Stu but he said that you made stuff up. Of course it hurt but maybe he was right? You gave him some space, which seemed to work in your favour as you made some other friends along the way. Girl friends, which you really didn't have before. Stu hated to see that. He was supposed to be your best friend. Suddenly he kept inviting you over again, so much so that you didn't spend so much time with your girl friends anymore. You tried to make time for them but it wasn't nearly enough. Most of them didn't want to hang out with you anymore. The only real girl friend you had was Tatum. She had a lot of friends so she never minded when you didn't have time, but she was also happy when you did.

The other down side with Stu inviting you over again was that Billy was there as well. You still didn't like him the first few times you came around. It wasn't like he was unfriendly or anything, just the fact that he stole your best friend. Stu must have talked to Billy cause the boy always made sure to be at his best behaviour around you. Making sure you started to like him. You don't really remember how it happened but suddenly it wasn't just you and Stu anymore but you, Stu and Billy. You really grew fond of Billy, you even developed a little crush on the boy at one point. Of course you never told him or Stu, for many reasons. One because you knew he didn't feel the same and two Stu would make fun of you. You also didn't want to ruin your little friend group. So you ignored it, which worked very well.

Until the summer before you guys started High School. You guys were 15 and at the Lake in the woods. You had bought a new bikini for the occasion. Stu's eyes widened as you took off your summer dress to reveal the new swimwear you bought. He was checking you out, and when he noticed his swim trunks getting tighter, he jumped into the lake immediately. He didn't care that it was cold as hell, on the contrary it helped him. When he came back up to the surface he heard your laugh and gave you his usual wide grin in return. He also noticed Billy checking you out, more subtle than him. He felt a little jealous but shook his head. That was silly.

You guys had an amazing day at the lake, several water fights and dunking each other, the previous thoughts all gone. It was late but the sun was still up. You were dry again and laughing with your boys. You don't know how it came up but they were telling you about their first kisses. To be honest you felt a little jealous but you thought that was because you didn't have your first kiss yet. It was a little embarrassing really, though you knew there was nothing wrong with it but you kind of felt left out of a secret club, that your best friends already joined without you. You had gotten really quiet as Stu tells the story of how he had "a real makeout session" with Stacy from your Math class. Billy noticed your lack of attention and nudged you softly, asking you what's wrong with you. That also got Stu's attention. Your face grew hot as now both Stu and Billy were looking at you. You averted your gaze and told them that you didn't have your first kiss yet. Billy shrugged his shoulders.

"That's not that bad. It's not like it's a big deal."

But that didn't really convince you.

"If it bothers you so much one of us could kiss ya." That got your attention and you looked at Stu.

"You are making fun of me!"

"Babes you know I would never!"

You just raise an eyebrow at that.

"Fine I do. But not right now. I am dead serious! Cross my heart!" He was doing the cross over his heart trying to look serious, but his eyes were full of mischief. You looked over to Billy.

"I mean… he is not wrong. If you really wanna."

That took you even more by surprise. You thought Billy would try to talk Stu out of it but you were wrong. He was also thinking this idea was great. You contemplated it. What would be the harm right? It's just a kiss. It's not like that would change anything. Right? Right.

"Alright."

"Really?" Stu asked, his face lit up like a childs on christmas.

"Yeah. I mean it's just a kiss right?"

"Yeah nothing special about it." Billy said.

"So who do you want to be your first?" Stu wiggled his eyebrows.

Your face grew hot again. Of course they were both attractive. And you had a crush on Billy once. But Stu was your best friend, you knew him longer. This gave you anxiety already. You didn't want it to be awkward with either one of them. But you also wanted this to be over. And who knows how much longer you'd have to go without kissing. You didn't want to be a bloody amateur when you got your first boyfriend.

So you decided. You stood up only to sit down right in front of Stu, who gave you a big smile. Little did you know that jealousy bubbled up in Billy at that. Though he didn't know who he was more jealous of, you or Stu. He shook his head.

"What do I do with my hands?"

"Whatever you want. You can put them around my neck or one on my face. Or you can just leave them at your side. Though that would be kinda awkward."

You nodded and so you shyly put your hands on Stu's shoulders, softly gripping them.

Your nerves were acting up as Stu slowly scooted a little closer and his face was inches from your own. You closed your eyes as you felt your lips connect. His lips were a little chapped but it didn't feel unpleasant. Then he started to move his lips, you tried to copy his movements. It wasn't perfect by any means, even a little sloppy, but you actually enjoyed yourself. You were clinging to Stu as he somehow managed to slip his tongue into your mouth and you let out a little squeak, feeling Stu grin against your lips. All too soon he broke the kiss. With your eyes still closed you tried to follow his lips. Stu let out a chuckle at that and you could hear Billy clear his throat. That snapped you out of your little trance, your face incredibly hot. You looked over to Billy.

"Wanna show me what you learned?"

Your eyes widened a little at that but you nodded nonetheless. He switched places with Stu real quick, Stu taking off his hands from your hips which you didn't even know were there. You already missed them. But they were replaced with Billy's. A little smaller than Stu's, but just as pleasantly warm. You wrapped your arms around his neck and Billy grinned, squeezing your hips a little.

"Ready?"

You nodded, smiling. Closing your eyes again as he closed the space between you two and his lips met yours. His lips were softer than Stu's, the kiss already feeling different than Stu's too. Less sloppy, as if Billy really knew what he was doing. He was easily dominating that kiss. You could really get used to kissing them. Scraping together every ounce of confidence you had you let your tongue slip inside his mouth, teasing his tongue with yours, just like you felt Stu do to you just moments ago. You could feel Billy letting out a soft sigh. Unbeknownst to you Stu was watching you two like a hawk. He wished he could join the two of you. You were getting a little lost in the feeling, your heart beating out of your chest. But Billy decided that this was long enough and broke the kiss. Your eyes fluttered open and you looked at Billy, his eyes never sucked you in more.

"I think you will be good now."

"Yeah, your future boyfriend will be really lucky." There was a slight edge to Stu's voice. But you couldn't figure out why.

After that, conversation resumed as normal and you were convinced that was the end of that. And it was. Nothing seemed to have changed and after the summer you guys went to highschool. Still the best of friends. Both Billy and Stu started dating a few girls here and there during that time. And even you went on a few dates but you were never really in love with them. They always seemed to have a problem with how close you were with Billy and Stu. More often than not they cheered you up after another guy dumped you. You were very grateful for that. You of course were there for them too. Stu being dumped by Casey Becker was really hard on him. You had a sleepover with him the whole weekend, with Billy showing up as well in the middle of the night. As much as Stu was upset it was one of the best weekends in a long time. You guys were watching movies all night, stuffing your face with Junk Food and sweets, and talking a lot. It felt like you grew closer to them again. While you guys were sleeping you were squished between them, Stu in front of you and Billy pressed against your back. It made you feel all warm inside and you realised that you might be feeling more for your best friends than you were supposed to. You knew nothing would happen so you were just happy with what you've got.

Now it was your 18th Birthday. Initially you just wanted a chill day, maybe going to eat some pizza with your boys but Stu had a different idea. And so you were at his house, which was full of people. You were convinced Stu invited the whole school. Both Billy's and Stu's 18th birthdays were a few months ago but they didn't have this big of a party, you think. You were making your way to the couch, people wishing you a happy birthday left and right. Finally you could join Tatum and Sydney on the sofa letting out a big sigh.

"Stu really went all out for you huh?"

"Yeah. I think it's a bit much but I couldn't say no to him when he looked at me with his big puppy eyes and his stupid grin."

"So when are you going to tell him you are in love with him?"

You choked on your own saliva at that.

"I am not in love with him."

"Sure, keep telling yourself that."

"You know I am pretty sure you are not supposed to tease the birthday girl on her birthday."

Tatum rolled her eyes playfully.

"Whatever."

You continued talking with the two girls when suddenly Stu plopped down next to you, throwing an arm around your shoulder.

"You having fun, pretty girl?"

You gave him a soft smile.

"Yeah. Thanks again for the party. But you know I would have been fine with it just being a chill night with you guys and some drinks maybe and a cake. By the way, why is there no cake?" You were pouting a little. The cake was always the best thing about birthdays.

Stu laughed at that.

"Don't worry. Billy is bringing the cake. And no he didn't bake it. That would go horribly." You giggled and softly hit his chest.

"I think you are confusing his baking abilities with your own."

He looked at you in fake shock.

"I am a fantastic baker, just so you know."

"Mhmh yeah and that time you let the cookies burn that were supposed to be sold at the baking sale two years ago was totally intentional."

"Totally!" You two laughed again.

A few moments later Billy came in with the cake. They lit the candles and everyone began to sing Happy Birthday to you. You hated every second of it, not knowing what to do with yourself besides standing there. Both Billy and Stu grinning, they knew you hated this kind of attention on yourself. You were relieved when you finally could blow out the candle and everyone got a piece of cake, including you.

Billy came over to you, hugging you close.

"Happy Birthday sweetheart."

"Thanks Billy." You always enjoyed his hugs. Other than Stu, Billy wasn't much of a hugger, so his hugs were a tad more special. Not that you disliked Stu's hugs though. Speaking of Stu, he couldn't stand being left out and so he wrapped you and Billy in a big bear hug.

"I love you guys so much!"

"How much did you have to drink already?" You were giggling. Billy, not so amused, nudged Stu rather harshly with his elbow, so Stu let go of you.

After finishing your cake, and drinking another beer, you went dancing with your girl friends. You weren't much of a dancer usually but it's your birthday and maybe you should let a little loose here and there. So that's what you did. Soon after you felt a pair of hands on your hips, pulling you close to a hard chest. You were about to tell the person off but you recognised Stu's cologne instantly. Relaxing, you continued dancing. Getting bolder you started to dance more suggestively, swaying your hips more, going down almost to your knees and back up. When you were back up, Stu turned you around. Your arms flew around his neck, smiling up at him. You couldn't quite pin the look in his eyes but you didn't care. You craved his lips on yours. Your eyes flicked down to them and you could see them forming a lazy grin, his tongue poking out to wet them. You were mesmerised by the movement, your own lips parting slightly, making Stu's eyes flick down to then. His eyes became more hooded and his face inched closer. Your eyes were fluttering close, his breath fanning over your face, the smell of beer, which you would normally find disgusting was invading your senses paired with Stu's own intoxicating smell. The anticipation was slowly killing you. You could already feel his lips brush yours when suddenly Stu was janked back making you stumble.

You blinked your eyes open and saw him with a group of guys hollering and throwing shots back. You let out a huff, disappointment settling in. Without looking at him again you pushed past the group and went into the kitchen to get another drink. In the kitchen you found some people making out, blocking you from the counter with the drinks. Groaning, you took a bottle of water and went back to the living room. You could see Stu, he was still with the same group of guys, laughing and dancing. You just shook your head, plopping down on the couch. Your sour mood didn't last long as some Tatum pulled you up by the arms again and started dancing with you. The little incident between you and Stu soon forgotten

Some time around 1 o'clock in the morning when the last person left, you were helping Stu clean up. Billy was also there though really you were the only one cleaning up. The two boys were on the couch talking quietly amongst each other. After you finished the kitchen, you decided that the rest could be done tomorrow. Well technically today.

You plopped down between them, not noticing the look they shared.

"You had a great time today?" It was Billy asking you.

You nodded, smiling.

"I normally don't like big parties like that."

"But?" It was Stu's turn to ask.

"But … this was amazing. Thank you again." You put your palm against Stu's cheek, smiling softly at him. Realising how close you were to him, it reminded you of the situation earlier, making your face heat up. You had to look away, opting to look over at Billy. Which was a mistake. He gave you the same intense look you had seen on Stu earlier. You cleared your throat a little, looking away. You felt two fingers softly gripping your chin, turning your face towards Billy again, who was so much closer to you now. Your breath got caught in your throat. You were about to ask him what's wrong but before you could even form one word, Billy's lips were on you, soft yet firm. You were shocked but not in a bad way. Your eyes fluttered close and you were melting against Billy. Completely forgetting that Stu was right behind you. Billy's lips moved against yours with determination, his tongue slipping inside your mouth soon after. You were so lost in the kiss that you at first didn't notice that Stu began to pepper your neck with kisses. Only when he started to suck a mark onto your soft skin did you realise, letting out a breathy moan, leaning against Stu now.

Billy parted from you, making you almost whine. He grinned at that, taking a quick look at you. Your eyes were closed, now biting your lip as Stu still worked on the one side of your neck. Your eyebrows were pulled together in pleasure. You felt like your heart was beating out of your chest, even more so when Billy began to kiss the other side of your neck. One of Stu's hands creeping you to one of your boobs, groping and squeezing the soft flesh. A breathy moan left you. The both of them were driving you wild. You were gripping at Billy's shirt, making him bite into your neck. One of his hands was working on your pants, slipping a hand inside of them once it was opened. His hand dipped into your panties and he let out a pleased hum.

"My my, already drenched and we barely did anything to you yet sweetheart. 'S that all for us?" Billy spoke against your neck, leaving goosebumps.

You quickly nodded your head, a breathy "Yes" left your lips. You could feel Stu grinning against your neck.

Billy slowly dragged a finger through your wet folds, making you squirm in Stu's grip. After a little more of this teasing, having coated his fingers in your juice, Billy slipped one of his fingers inside of your dripping hole. Your mouth opened in a silent moan, Stu's hand grabbing your boob harder. Billy began to slowly fuck you open with his finger. Your head fell against Stu, one arm behind you, around Stu's neck, gripping him at the nape of his neck, the other hand still fisting Billy's shirt. You tried to muffle your moans, which soon flew out of the window as Billy added a second finger soon after. You had sex before but those guys never fingered you. Heck even the sex with them was nothing compared to what Billy could do to you with his two fingers. You wondered, if this is how good his fingers could make you feel, how amazing must it feel to be really fucked by him.

Billy's intense gaze never left your face as he fucked you with his fingers, his pants were growing tighter by the minute, he knew Stu was in much the same position. Billy started scissoring his fingers, his thumb soon joining in to play with your clit. You started withering, but lucky for you and Billy, Stu had a tight grip on you. He had resumed sucking hickey's onto your neck.

"I always knew you were tight. But fuck this is even better than I imagined. Can't wait to stuff you full with my dick."

Billy's words only made you more wet, if that was even possible. Even with your pants still on you could hear the squelching sound your pussy made, feeling Stu's hard dick press into your lower back told you he liked what he was hearing too. Your skin felt so hot, one could think you had a fever, a soft sheen of sweat on your forehead and your cleavage formed. Stu wanted nothing more than to lick it off of the swell of your boobs.

Suddenly Billy removed his fingers, making you whine in protest. Both boys chuckled at that.

"What's the problem, pretty girl?" Stu's tone was mocking, but it only made you hornier. You didn't dare speak.

"Cat's got your tongue?" Billy's voice didn't sound any less taunting. You looked at them both pleadingly. Billy pulled his hand out of your pants, ready to lick his fingers clean, but Stu stopped him, gripping Billy's wrist. Stu leaned forward and closed his mouth around Billy's fingers, holding eye contact with the other one. Billy let out an audible breath through his nose. Your mouth dropped open as you watched the two. It made you realise that this was definitely not the first time these two have fooled around. You felt a bit honoured that they felt comfortable enough to show you this. Once Stu seemed satisfied he popped Billy's fingers out of his mouth, making a show of licking his lips.

"Delicious." He kept grinning. Billy gave you a quick glance, before his eyes locked back onto Stu. He gripped the boy's shirt and pulled him closer, making you fall a little to the side, as their lips connected. You could see that it was all tongues and teeth, both of them groaning. Billy could taste you on Stu's tongue and it was driving him crazy. They parted and you could see a string of saliva connecting them. They grinned at each other, then their gaze turned back to you, making you feel even hotter than before. Their look was almost predatory, making you gulp. In a matter of seconds they removed your clothes and you were back against Stu's chest, sitting almost at the edge of the couch. Billy was sitting in front of you, having a perfect view at your glistening folds.

"Damn, Stu wish you could see this. Most perfect little pussy I have ever seen." Billy couldn't take his eyes off of it. You were squirming under Billy's gaze.

"Please Billy."

"Did ya hear that Billy? I think our precious girl wants something." You looked up at Stu, pleading with your eyes.

"I did hear. Though I am not sure what exactly it is that you want. Tell us Princess. Don't be shy."

"Yeah, don't be shy now."

You swallowed, grabbing onto every ounce of confidence and self control you still owned.

"Could you please put your mouth on my pussy Billy?" Your voice came out weaker than anticipated. You were afraid he didn't hear you, making you repeat yourself. But he did.

"Aw, of course, pretty girl. Can't leave the birthday girl hanging now, can I?"

You shook your head fast. Billy gave you one last grin, before diving in. Your hands gripped onto his hair in seconds. You always knew his mouth was good but this exceeded your expectations. You didn't care if your moans sounded pathetic, you only knew how good it felt having Billy suck on your clit, having two of his fingers in your pussy again. You were basically grinding against him, one of his hands squeezing your thigh. That would definitely leave a bruise you were sure, but you didn't mind in the slightest. Stu turned your face to the side so he could kiss you. Moaning against his lips as you could feel Billy switching it up, his thumb now rubbing your clit as his tongue was deep inside of you.

Stu on the other hand was kissing you like his life depended on it. There was nothing of the uncertainty he had when you guys first shared your first kiss. But still sloppy, in a different kind of way. His tongue was massaging yours, one of his hands on your boobs again, toying with your nipples. He was biting your lip, almost drawing blood, making you squeal.

Billy was looking up, groaning at seeing the two of you kiss. Your grip on his hair getting tighter by the second and he could feel your gummy walls clamping around his tongue. He began to lick and suck at your harsher. He desperately wanted to see you fall apart for him and Stu. You had to part from Stu with a gasp, breathing in deep. Stu pulled at your bottom lip. Your eyebrows were creased together. You were so close. Looking down at Billy you swore his eyes were glinting. He knew you were going to come, you could tell. Your lips were swollen, from the kiss with Stu, who was still playing with your nipples. Pulling and squeezing and twisting, the pain of it so pleasurable. This, paired with Billy's relentless mouth on your dripping pussy, seriously you were sure you would be dripping on the floor, wouldn't it be for Billy sucking it all up, were enough to send you flying over the edge. A high pitched moan left your lips, your thighs clamping around Billy's head, your hips lifting off of the edge of the sofa as your orgasm crashed through you. It has never felt so intense before. Stu was holding you close as Billy helped you ride out every last drop of your pleasure.

Stu softly pecked the side of your head when you finally calmed down. Billy didn't waste a drop of your juice and you had to push his head away from you, releasing him from between your thighs. His chin and lips were wet from your arousal. His eyes almost black. He made a show of licking his lips and you could feel Stu shuffling behind you.

Billy was the first to speak. "You ok sweetheart?"

You nodded. "I'm fucking fantastic." He gave you a cheeky grin.

"Do you wanna continue orrrrr…" Stu spoke up behind you.

You chuckled breathless. "Definitely continue."

Billy stood up helping you stand up on shaky legs. He gave you a cheeky grin at that, making you swat his chest, giggling.

When Stu stood up he didn't waste a second to throw you over his shoulder, giving your ass a slap, groping it right after. He made his way up the stars, Billy right behind the two of you.

Inside the room, Stu threw you onto the bed, making you bounce. Both of the boys looking at your boobs. You almost wanted to cover up from their intense staring. Stu was the first to snap out of it, removing his clothes, almost tripping as he took off his pants. His erection slapping against his lower stomach. You moaned quietly at the sight, biting your lip. The tip was a deep pink, already leaking precum, there was a slight curve upwards. He was definitely longer than your previous boyfriends and just a tad bit girthier.

"Like what ya seeing babe?" He gave you a grin, but you couldn't see any of his usual silliness shine through. All you could see in his eyes was hunger. And you were pretty sure you were his next meal. He came stalking over to you, taking both your ankles into his hand he pulled you closer to him, making you lie down on your back in the process. As he crawled over you, you wrapped your legs around him, making him feel your wet heat on his throbbing dick.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this." He was almost growling.

"Then let's not waste any more time, yeah?" Your voice was dripping with excitement. Stu gave you a quick but forceful peck before lining up with your heat. He was rubbing his tip between your folds. Both of you were mesmerising as he slowly pushed inside of you. The both of you are moaning in unison.

"Fuck Billy's right. 'S the most perfect little pussy. Shit you're grippn me so tight."

"Stu please move."

You were trying to rock against him but he was gripping your hips so hard there would definitely be handprint bruises. No chance of moving.

"Shit wait a sec babe, don't wanna bust too soon. You feel so good around me."

You could hear a scoff behind you. Craning your neck you could see Billy standing on the other side of the bed. Naked. Your eyes immediately go to his dick. He was definitely girthier than Stu, not as long tho. His tip also a bit darker than Stu's.

"What are you a fucking virgin Stu?" Billy was teasing.

"Shut up man, you wouldn't be able to control yourself either."

With that Stu began to almost pull out entirely making you whine, which soon turned into a loud moan as he snapped his hips back into yours, sending you moving along the bed. Your head getting closer to Billy's dick as he was still standing on the edge on the other side. Stu's pace was relentless, reaching so deep inside you, you swear you could almost feel him inside your throat. He didn't hold back with his moans either. Ever the vocal type no matter what. You didn't mind though, it let you know that he was enjoying himself. Billy shuffled a little closer, gripping his dick. You were already salivating at the thought of having him inside your mouth. He twirled his tip on your lips, coating them in his precum.

"Open up sweetheart."

You didn't need to be told twice, open your mouth eagerly. Billy gave an appreciative hum as he slowly slid into your mouth. You were gagging a little but still wanted more.

Stu was still snapping into you, watching as you swallowed Billy's cock.

"Damn you really are an eager little slut huh?"

Stu's speech was slightly slurred, completely drunk on your pussy. Billy was slowly fucking your mouth, tears were welling up in your eyes. You were loving every second of this. His hands gripped your boobs, squeezing them, using them as leverage too. They were making you see stars, especially when Billy pushed himself all the way in, holding you there for a few seconds. Stu groaned seeing your throat swell around Billy's dick. He couldn help but touch it. Then Billy pulled out, letting you take a breath. You were gagging, tears streaming out of your eyes. Once you inhaled enough air again you pulled Billy back in, eagerly taking him back into your mouth. Bobbing your head best you could in this position, sucking on the tip every time you came up. Stu started to rub circles on your clit, making you clamp down on him.

He let out a breathy "Fuck." You were growing closer by the second. You could tell by Stu's sloppy thrusts that he was nearing his end too. Billy started to throb inside your mouth. He was ready to pull out and came all over your tits but you had a different plan. Pulling him back in. Billy groaned at your eagerness, coming down your throat almost instantly. You swallowed everything eagerly. Then he pulled out, with a satisfied hum. He softly strokes your cheek, bending down to give you a peck. Then he left to go get everyone some water to drink.

Stu gripped your cheeks, squeezing them and kissing you hungrily, still drilling into you. You were whimpering, so close now. He was still rubbing your clit and your legs began to shake and you came, with a high pitched scream. With a loud groan Stu followed right behind you and came deep inside of you. Riding out both of your orgasms, your legs still shaking. He came to a halt, dropping on top of you, making all air leave your lungs. You had half a mind telling him to get off, but it was actually nice to have his weight on top of you. You wrapped your arms around him, softly scratching his back. He was letting out satisfied hums.

"Am I interrupting?"

You hadn't noticed Billy entering the room again. His voice had an edge to it.

"Don't be silly. Come here."

Your voice, a little scratchy, was still soft when saying this.

He let out a huff but still came over to the bed. Stu finally moved, pulling out of you and laying down beside you. Billy took his place on your other side, giving you an open water bottle that you could drink. You gave him a thankful kiss and you could swear he was actually blushing a little at this, like he hasn't just eaten you out like a starved man and fucked your throat moments ago. You were gulping down the water while Billy cleaned you up between your legs with a rag. Once he was done he threw it to the side not caring where it landed really.

You were snuggling up to him, Stu close behind you, enjoying the comfort of the post orgasmic bliss. You closed your eyes, very tired now. You guys should talk about what just happened and what it meant for your friendship but you were too tired.

You were almost asleep when suddenly Stu jolted upward. "Oh!"

"Shit! What?!"

You almost had a heart attack.

"We forgot to give you your birthday present!I'll be right back!"

With that he was out of the bed walking downstairs to get your present.

"Is he serious now? That could have waited till morning"

You dropped your head onto Billy's chest.

Billy just shrugged.

Stu came back in with a big smile on his face, jumping onto the bed.

You were sitting up, the blanket dropping into your lap. Revealing your chest, distracting Stu again. You giggled and gently lifted his head again.

"Concentrate Stu."

"Right, sorry. They are just -" He made a motion with his hands towards your boobs.

You rolled your eyes playfully.

"He is not wrong, you know?"

You giggled.

Stu gave you a little box adorned with a bow.

"You didn't have to get me anything you know that right?"

"Oh we know."

"Yeah but we wanted to. So just enjoy it and say thank you." Billy nudged you.

You gave them both a kiss. "Thank you."

Smiling softly you opened the box, revealing a delicate bracelet with two charms on it.

"Get it? The charms represent Billy and me!" Stu was so excited.

"That is so sweet!" You were touched.

"I knew you'd like it!" Stu threw an arm around your shoulder.

"See? This is me and this is Billy."

He pointed to the little headphones first. It was rare to see him without them and his cd player these days. Then he pointed at the little knife, with a drop of gemstone blood in it. Definitely Billy. He was obsessed with horror stuff.

"It is perfect. Thank you so much."

And you meant it. Billy put it on for you and you looked at it adoringly. You put your arm down and looked at them both happily.

"Soooooooo…"

"So?"

"I mean I guess I just wanna know what this means for our friendship?"

"Well we should upgrade it."

"To what?"

"A relationship. Duh." Stu said it like it was the most obvious thing.

"You sure?"

"Sweetheart, we've wanted you for ages."

You looked at Billy like he grew a second head.

"You did?!"

"Yeah. You never noticed?"

Shaking your head you looked at the both of them.

"Guess you are stuck with us now."

Stu grinned from ear to ear.

You rolled your eyes smiling.

"Like I wasn't before."

"Yeah but now it will be even harder for you to get rid of us."

"Good thing I wanna keep you both."

"Mh. You better." Billy was smiling but there was something else to his tone. You almost wouldn't notice. And you didn't but Stu did, keeps grinning.

"Of course. I would be lost without you!" You held the back of your hand against your forehead for dramatic effect, giggling.

Billy groaned playfully. "Damn what have I gotten myself into?"

You and Stu shoved him, laughing until a yawn interrupted you.

"Alright you two. It's time to get some sleep."

"Yes dad." Stu was rolling his eyes.

"Damn Stu I didn't know you were into that." You began laughing again.

"Oh you will be surprised about all the things I'm into."

He gave you a mischievous grin. Biting your lip you grinned as well.

"Can't wait to find out."

"Ok stop it you two horny fuckers."

" Pf. Just you wait until you find out what Billy's into. He actually loves it when he can ca-" Stu couldn't finish the sentence, as Billy hit him across the head.

"Ow!"

"Sleep. Now. We can get into kinks another time." With that Billy was laying down.

"I can't wait. You will be surprised what I'm into." You hummed and got comfy next to Billy, who put an arm around you.

Stu was bouncing next to you.

"Ohhh is it something freaky?"

"Stu…"

"No, now you got me curious!"

"Stu."

"I won't be able to sleep! Give me a hint! Please!" He was basically begging now.

You rolled your eyes.

"It might involve getting nicked with a knife. Now come here and sleep, I won't say more."

You could feel Billy tensing up a bit, not knowing that this little bit of information riled him up again. Stu's mouth had dropped open. Not believing what he heard. Now he was really intrigued. You could feel he was about to say something else so you stopped him before he could.

"Sleep. Now."

Stu cuddled close behind you. You were out like a light in seconds.

Stu and Billy looked at you.

"We really hit the jackpot with her."

"Totally!"

Billy was almost asleep when Stu spoke up again.

"You think she would let us carve an S and a B into her? Small ones of course. Maybe on her hip."

Billy groaned at that, now the idea will be stuck with him. But that was a conversation for another time.

#stu macher x reader #billy loomis x reader #scream #ghostface x reader #ghostface #billy loomis smut #stu macher smut #billy loomis #stu macher #billy loomis x you #stu macher x you #billy loomis imagine #stu macher imagine #poly!ghostface #stu macher x reader x billy loomis #billy loomis x reader x stu macher #poly!ghostface x reader #bea's writing

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mindmelter · 3 months ago

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A Body Stealer Tale: A Capture To Remember

When I arrived in Italy, I found out my camera was broken from the travel. Frustrated, I wandered through Italy until I found a small, dusty shop tucked between old buildings. Inside, an elderly shopkeeper offered me an old camera model, calling it "special." I was desperate, so I bought it, not realizing just how “special” this camera would actually be.

I’d only been in Italy for a day when I spotted him—an absolute Adonis. I was just wandering through the cobbled streets of the old town, camera in hand, getting lost in the architecture and the vibes, taking photos of every old building I saw. Suddenly, there he was: this hot Italian guy walking alone past me. I couldn’t resist. I knew it was a little risky, but I raised my new camera to grab a quick shot of him without him noticing.

I mean, I would never see him again after that, so I should as well capture the moment to remember.

But then, the moment I pressed the shutter, there was a flash of bright light. It wasn’t from my camera. It was like a white ball of light bursting out from the man's back and zipping straight into my camera, vanishing without a trace.

And before I could even gasp, his whole body crumpled like a pile of clothes, totally hollowed out. I blinked, trying to make sense of what I was seeing. I mean, there was this whole empty Italian guy lying there on the street—skin, hair, face, everything—but no bones, no organs, nothing inside. Just a bodysuit.

I just stood there, completely dumbfounded, staring at the bodysuit that had been a whole man only seconds before. Luckily, there was no one on the street but me, which honestly was a miracle. My heart was racing, but curiosity got the better of me. I glanced around, making sure I was alone, and slowly crouched down, reaching out to touch the hollowed man's face. It was surreal, it felt smooth, soft, and very real, I mean... it was real. As I caressed his stubble beard and admired his slack empty face, I noticed an opening on his nape. Curious, I pulled his sagging head by the hair and noticed a small opening on his back, it was the exact place where the ball of light had come out of him.

An idea popped into my head—completely insane, but somehow, I knew I had to do it. Before I could second-guess myself, I slipped off my shoes and started undressing right there on the sidewalk. Yeah, risky, but I wasn’t gonna let this opportunity slip away.

One leg at a time, I stepped into the suit's open hole, pulling his muscular calves and thighs over my own legs. The fabric—no, the *skin*—wrapped around me like a second layer. I could feel his muscles molding to my shape as I slid my arms into his and finally tugged his handsome face over mine like a mask.

Then… something amazing happened. I could feel the strength of his body taking over, the weight of his muscles filling me up, the opening in his back closing, and even his face settling into place over mine. I wasn’t just wearing him—I *was* him.

I glanced down and saw those fit pecs, those ripped abs, and a big flaccid cock that now belonged to me. The guy was very hung, I thought.

I couldn't help but give my new cock a few strokes. I chuckled at the thought of someone walking and seeing this stud jerking off naked on the street.

But I wasn't in the mood to spend my new hot body in an Italian jail, so I grabbed the man's jeans from the ground and pulled them back up. His wallet fell out of his pocket, so I grabbed it and looked for his ID.

"Luca Moretti, 23 years old," It said.

Well, I guess that's my new name for now, I thought as I put a shirt on.

I grabbed the camera from the ground and looked at the lens, my eyes squinted as I tried to look inside for any sign of life, "Hello? Do you hear me?" I waited for a response and chuckled at how ridiculous I looked talking to a camera. I was about to put it inside my backpack when I heard a distant voice in my head. It was a male voice, and it was screaming in Italian.

"Che cazzo sta succedendo? Non sento più nulla… posso solo vedere attraverso questa maledetta lente! Ma cosa mi è successo? Sono intrappolato qui dentro? Non può essere vero… Aiuto! Qualcuno mi tiri fuori da qui, vi prego!"

I couldn't understand what he was saying—I don't speak Italian! I gazed into the lens, letting a look of gentle compassion soften my new features.

"I'm sorry man, I can't understand what you're saying. But it looks like that's your new home now. Your body is mine and It's going to be so fun being you, I hope you don't have a girlfriend because I'm really going to put this ass to use. But don't worry though, I will make sure you get some company soon."

I put the camera inside my backpack and casually walked away as if I’d always been him. I’d never felt this confident in my life, and proof of that was the huge bulge I proudly displayed in my jeans. This is going to be one unforgettable trip.

Next time, I won't be taking photos of old buildings, but of hot men whose bodies I want to capture.

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awearywritersworld · 2 years ago

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tell me you don't want me

gojo satoru x reader summary: gojo adds falling in love with his dead best friend's little sister to the list of things that keep him up at night w/c: 1.8k tags/warnings: angst to fluff. gojo takes care of reader when they have a migraine. they watch shark week together, so shark haters beware. arguing, but nothing super harsh. protective!gojo. reader is referred to as a sister but there are no pronouns. gojo is around 27, reader 23. curse words. no out right smut, but a heavily suggestive ending so lets say 18+ a/n: i've been writing purely fluff for gojo, so it seems about time to return to my angst/fluff roots. today's epi made me had me feeling some type of way. may write a part two to this? idk lemme know what you think! masterlist check out my latest work for gojo here

after you arrived at jujutsu high as a first year, everyone wore the same expression when they looked at you, their eyes full of pity and apprehension. you really couldn't blame them though. after what happened with suguru, you were left a shell of yourself, paranoid that you were destined to the same fate as your older brother.

however, the boy that suguru called his best friend held something different in his gaze whenever his eyes fell on you. understanding, maybe? gojo knew that if there was anyone in the world who missed suguru as much as he did, it had to be you.

for most of the year, the two of you really only talked in passing, dancing around a discussion neither of you were brave enough to initiate. then your brother's birthday rolled around and you found yourself drenched in rain, sneaking into the boys' dormitory to knock on gojo satoru's door.

he wasn't surprised to find you standing there.

"that idiot always refused to let me celebrate his birthday," you blurted out, damp hair sticking to your forehead.

he laughed. it was just a breath, but it was still genuine. "right? he couldn't stand being fussed over for one day."

and as you both stood there, rain pattering against the window, you felt months of unspoken tension melt away. "well, come in. i bought cake."

after that day, gojo took on the roll of your older brother and he really leaned into it. flicking your forehead to annoy you, threatening anyone he thought had a crush on you, giving you advice whenever he deemed you needed it.

you weren't sure if he was aware, even after all these years, that he'd saved you— pulled you away from the brink. you became like the little sister he never had, while he tried his best to fill the hole suguru had left in your heart.

gojo spends more time in your apartment than his own, so it's no surprise when he barges in one afternoon, singing out your name (rather terribly, one might add).

"i have a migraine, 'toru," you groan from the couch, pulling the blanket up over your head as the bright light from behind his figure worsens your discomfort. all of your blinds are shut, the curtains pulled together. "can you please close the door?"

he hums, stepping inside and pulling the door shut quietly. "you seem to be getting them a lot lately."

"probably because i spend so much time with you," you whine facetiously.

he gasps, hand clutching at his heart. "i come all the way here to visit you, only to be ridiculed. my devastation is untellable."

after grabbing a washcloth from the linen closet, he pads over to the kitchen sink. you peer at him from under the blanket as he runs it under cold water, noting how the veins in his forearms become more prominent once he wrings it out.

you're laying across the entirety of the couch, but you scoot away from the edge and he situates himself in the space beside your hip, his body facing you. the corner of his mouth is turned down, evidence of the worry swirling in his chest. he presses the back of his fingers to your forehead before folding the cloth neatly and laying it there.

"you should mention the migraines to shoko," he suggests earnestly.

"they just flare up sometimes, you know that. it's really not a big deal."

"yeah, maybe.. but i still worry about you."

you can't help but notice how close he is and while it feels casual, it also feels... intimate? the cold cloth does bring some relief to your head, though you'd have preferred it if his hand had remained there instead.

"have you eaten?" he questions after a moment, pulling you from your thoughts.

"not yet."

"then i'll go pick up some food," he offers, rising to his feet. "do you need anything else-"

"no," you say a little too quickly, your fingers wrapping around his wrist. "i mean.. can you just stay?"

he suddenly looks very smug. "oh, what's this? are you sure spending more time with me won't make your head feel worse?"

you attempt to roll your eyes but the movement sends a sharp pain through your skull, causing you to grumble. "don't make me hurt you satoru. i was joking."

"i know," he smirks, decently self satisfied. "but you do have to eat, so-"

"there's leftover egg drop in the fridge, can you just warm that up for me please?"

"'course! anything for you, (y/n)-chan!"

his tone makes it sound as if he's teasing you, but he knows it's the truth. he's painfully aware that there isn't a thing you could ask of him that he'd deny. he tries not to think about that though, because he can't bring himself to admit what it all means.

once your soup is ready, he joins you on the couch. you move to sit up and while that makes plenty of room for him, he still lifts your legs, sitting so that they lay across his lap. one of his hands is resting on your shin, the other on your knee.

"shark week?" he suggests as you reach for the remote.

you nod eagerly. "yes."

the two of you have never fought before.

well, maybe that's not entirely true. it isn't uncommon for the both of you to argue over video games, the latest chapter of a manga, or other things of that nature. but you and gojo have never had a genuine disagreement.

that is, until you mention wanting to challenge a decision made by the higher ups. he's well aware of how they deal with people they deem troublesome, so he can't help the vexation that bubbles up in his chest at your words.

"absolutely not," he tells you. his voice is low, not one hint of amusement to be found.

the tone leaves you narrowing your eyes, and you sound a bit misbelieving when you ask, "what do you mean 'absolutely not'?"

after everything that happened with geto, the higher ups have been wary of you. honestly, they're probably just looking for an excuse to pull another stunt like the detention center and he can't risk that. he can't risk losing you.

rather than express any part of that sentiment, however, he just goes all stone faced and vague. it's weird, so naturally it's followed by a bit of back and forth that goes nowhere, the conversation growing unreasonably volatile with each passing second.

why can't you just listen to him? why can't you give him the benefit of the doubt? he's earned that by now, hasn't he?

"i don't understand!" you hiss, your chest heaving with indignation. "why are you acting like this?"

because i love you. because i need you. because you mean more to me than everything else in this world put together.

he can't possibly say that though.. can't lay his shame bare for you to see.. can't bring himself to admit the feelings he has for you.

he's in love with dead best friend's little sister and it's wrong. it keeps him up at night. claws away at his self respect.

"i'll take care of it," he promises, sounding a bit defeated. "just please stay out of it."

"quit treating me like i'm a child, satoru. you're not my father."

your assertion makes the air in the room shift, and the feeling that forms in the pit of gojo's stomach is not unlike a cord being pulled too taut before snapping.

"so what am i then, huh? what am i to you?" he interrogates, taking a step toward you.

his eyes burn with intensity and the conviction in his voice is dizzying, especially since it's meant only for you. he immediately notices the way you stiffen, suddenly unable to meet his eye.

he swallows thickly, any restraint he has left ebbing away once he hears your small, nervous voice. "'toru, w... what do you-"

you're cut off when he takes another step in your direction, your back meeting with the wall after you attempt to maintain the space between the both of you.

one of his palms presses to the wall beside your head, though the other remains at his side. he doesn't want to trap you there, not when he still doesn't have a clear idea of how you're feeling.

his breath fans across your face, your mind struggling to process what was happening. you whisper his name, unsure of how else to respond.

"i want you." he nearly chokes on the words, the pain of admitting them evident in his voice. "want you more than anything."

and he does. he wants you more than the sleep he never gets. more than he wants to honor suguru. more than he wants to be a good man.

his head dips down, your breath catching in your throat when his lips find the spot on your jaw just below your ear.

"please, tell me to stop," he begs, sending a shiver down your spine.

your hands move to his chest, the rise and fall of it uneven and sporadic. god, you make him so fucking weak it's almost pathetic.

his lips shift to your cheek, closer to your mouth, and his hand reaches up to cradle the other side of your face. he sounds irrevocably desperate now, "tell me you don't want me."

your heart's beating so loudly in your ear drums, you can hardly hear yourself speak. "satoru, please."

"please what?" he asks, and for a moment you're unsure of the answer.

you try to open your mouth once more, but the words are lodged in your throat. confusion and frustration rattle around in your head, making it difficult to string together your thoughts. finally you just give in, grabbing his face between your hands and pulling his lips against your own.

he let's out a strangled noise, some unknowable mix of pleasure and relief. his hands land on your hips at once, greedily pulling your body against his own.

his lips are chapped, but they're perfect in the way they move against yours. the kiss isn't clumsy, nor is it unsure. it's ardent and comfortable, as if it's the most natural thing in the world.

you pull away first, each of you holding the other's gaze. you're both hazy eyed, your mouths curved into giddy, lovesick grins.

gojo doesn't hesitate when you glance down at his lips, your words easing that bitter self loathing he'd been enduring for longer than he cares to admit. "if you want me... then make me yours."

taglist: @torusmochi @moonmalice

#m!writes #gojo #gojo x reader #gojo imagines #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru imagines #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #gojo fluff #gojo angst #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen angst

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