#i always leave that app feeling worse than when i opened it
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inkykeiji · 2 years ago
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hi clari! first off, ur hair looks so cute!! i think it suits u really well! second, i think u said a while back that u limit ur social media intake and i was just curious to know what apps do u refrain from using and what apps do u have…
hi anon bb!! (´∀`)♡ thank you so much!!!!! i rly love it hehe i feel like myself again (*/ω\*)
ah yes!!! so i actually only use tumblr on a daily basis, believe it or not! tumblr is the only social media site that i check every day and that i regularly post to. i technically have a twitter account and have an instagram account, but i don’t post to either of them at all and only check them once or twice a week on average (usually to look for something specific ie leaks).
omg i ran out of tags LMAO it’s been a while since that happened but anyway my thoughts are down there!!! i hope you have a lovely friday sweetpea <3 stay safe and stay healthy!!! ♡(˃͈ દ ˂͈ ༶ )
#instagram is something i could see myself using in the future but i just have literally nothing to post there atm#like i think it would be fun to have an instagram that works in conjunction with my blog but#currently i have no photos to post there!!! like as a writer i’d love to post desk tours and set up stuff etc#except i don’t have a desk right now LMAO#so maybe one day in the future when i finally have my own office space/writing studio#but for now there’s nothing there for me#and then twitter is just hell on earth like#i always leave that app feeling worse than when i opened it#everyone over there is chronically online and just ??????? very odd#it helps that none of my irl friends use social media for personal purposes as well#so none of us have like personal accounts yk??#and i stay far far faaaar away from my family on social media HAHAHA#blocked everyone i went to high school with pretty much exactly when i graduated high school so#there’s no temptation to go like check up on anyone; i also genuinely do not care what they’re doing so that helps as well#idk honestly i think it comes down to 1. having no desire to be on those sites/apps and 2. having extreme self control#any time i even think about just mindlessly scrolling my head goes ‘yeah but think of all the other more fun and more productive things you#could be doing that will make you feel 100 times better than being on either of those apps’#and then im like ur right brain!!!!! and then the desire is gone!!#so hopefully that makes sense?????#i think that the internet and social media can be extremely beneficial especially for artists of all mediums as well as those looking to#connect with certain communities or groups (whether that be activist groups or support groups or fandoms etc)#and i think that’s really incredible#BUT at the same time it’s a double-edged sword and it can be extremely detrimental and toxic to us and our health#especially with the (pseudo) anonymity the internet provides people with that just completely robs them of any empathy they might’ve had#and the comparison culture etc etc you know the list goes on forever#SO to me the best thing anyone can do is use the internet/social media with an intent and purpose in mind and STICK TO IT#so for example i use it to share my writing with others#that’s my focus; that’s my goal. i’ll share a few surface bits and pieces of my life with everyone here but my main focus is to share my#writing. so keeping that goal in mind helps to keep me from straying from it and spending too much time online#i’ve really rambled here ugh i hope this makes sense hehe i just woke up like an hour ago so i’m still 😴😴😴 hahaha
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hella1975 · 1 year ago
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hiiii haha. hello. exceptionally awkward introduction bc idrk how to start something like this so let's just jump right in. im taking a break from this account for a bit. i know i said i wanted taob out before halloween and currently im fine sticking with that deadline, but if i decide i need longer away then i will take longer away. every time ive reassured people that id never abandon a fic and updates will always come eventually i never once considered that my writing and ability to feel safe and comfortable on this site would be actively taken from me, so im not even going to apologise. i dont want this either and more importantly i dont fucking deserve it. i dont know what it is in the past year, if ive hit a certain amount of followers or 'popularity' that's made it so the natural ratio of positive to negative interactions must in turn go up, but there's been a serious uptick in weird asks for me. the annoying part is that a very small amount of them are actually objectively mean and hateful, the rest are just weird and invasive from people who seemingly dont realise that's what they're being. ive reached a point where i dont care if the intentions are good. it's not my job as a 20 year old tumblr user of all things to defend the morality of someone who couldnt even bother to come off anon. unfortunately, after blocking only one or two anons, the weird asks have decreased substantially, which says all you need to know about the fascinating and exhilarating lives led by these people, but ive also gone on to turn anon asks off entirely. this is something i actively fought against doing and had to be pushed into by my mutuals (who have been the coolest people on planet earth during this entire thing). turning off anon was a big deal to me even if it sounds silly. i felt betrayed and like id been backed into a corner because it was so vehmently something i DIDNT WANT that to feel like i had to do it anyway for my own mental health??? that sucks. so even though ive 'fixed' the problem, im still kind of reeling and uncomfortable every time i come on tumblr. i hope it's just something i need time to ease because i'll truly be devastated if this becomes 'ruined' for me. tumblr exists as the only place in the world where i am honestly every facet of myself without shame or hesitation; losing that would be insanely harmful to me. and to the people who cant appeal to the actual human behind the post, let me put that in words you can understand: we wouldn't get any more writing 😦😦😦 riots and fires and sirens, i know. so yeah. to anyone who has sent me an anon ask and you're now wondering if you were part of the problem, im firmly of the belief that you'll know if you are. when i say 'weird asks' i dont mean 'you sent me a para about your personal life just to vent or ask for advice' or 'you sent me a really deep emotional compliment about the impact me and/or my writing has had on you' - i love asks like that, so much that i put off taking a break and turning off anon solely for the joy they bring me. im sorry that it might feel like you're being punished too bc of the actions of what in reality is a HANDFUL of weird people, but this is what i feel like i have to do to feel safe and not go insane every time i log in. love you guys, hopefully ill see you soon x
#seriously another shout out to my mutuals#id particularly like to say thank you to boom who's always right there for me no matter what's happening or how insane im being#and also everyone in our little discord that wound up having to make a whole new channel for venting#bc i was there so often like 'today's weird ask isssss.... telling me about my cupsize!! rip them to shreds!!!'#hannah and theo especially being there and pushing me to finally turn off anon. war is truly over#and of course rori bc the shamelessness u show when hating on my anon asks has been genuinely really cathartic#sometimes u really do just need a rottweiler mutual to tell random people online to kill themselves 😭#okay weird oscar acceptance speechcore gratitude over. i do just rlly love my mutuals#like i went three years not telling anyone about the worse side of internet popularity for fear of looking spoiled and ungrateful#so for the first time to open up about it and be met with outrage on my behalf and people saying in fact it's MORE fucked up#than i initially realised bc ive grown desensitised to it is. yeah cathartic i guess#they are singlehandedly reassuring me of the good this cursed app still holds#so everyone thank them and send them flowers NOW#okay im done i think. see you guys soon. i truly do want to come back asap bc like i said i NEVER EVEN WANTED TO FUCKING LEAVE#SOME ASSHOLES JUST HAD TO PUT GRENADES ON WHAT I ASSUMED WERE VERY UNIVERSAL AND OBVIOUS BOUNDARIES#if you're reading this like 'ohhh fuck i defo sent something invasive lately. i thought it was a joke/we were friends'#then 1) we arent friends if you're on anon. it immediately creates a power imbalance where you know me and any necessary context#but i have no idea who you are or how much you know about me. that's already a fucked dynamic#and 2) I HOPE YOU FEEL BAD. LIKE GENUINELY I HOPE YOU FEEL AWFUL AND HAVE A GOOD LONG LOOK AT YOURSELF#okay i think that's all. ta-ra lads??? how tf do u end something like this#ive queued this to reblog a couple more times throughout the day
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sluttywoozi · 2 months ago
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(Boy)Friend Material | Part I of II | csc x f!reader
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You'd think that, having matched with Seungcheol on a dating app, you would be, well, dating. You suppose you're lucky, but not that lucky.
Rating: sfw (this part) | WC: ~3k | Pairing: csc x f!reader | Genre: emotional fluff, friends/idiots to lovers
Warnings: suggestive thoughts, down bad reader, implied alcohol drinking, kissing
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Matching with Seungcheol on Bumble was a fluke, or maybe a miracle, considering the fact that you re-downloaded the app on a whim and his profile was the first to come up. 
The second you saw him in that blue baseball cap and white tee, his jawline sharp and his bicep thick, you knew there was no point in trying to find anyone better. So you conferred with the group chat to crowdsource a good opening line, something about how his birthday should be a national holiday, and awaited his response with bated breath. 
He replied within minutes, saying that he’d always thought so but was intrigued as to why you did too, and you, ignoring your friends’ advice to play it cool, told him that he was obviously a gift to the masses to get them through these troubling times. He got bashful then, but apparently you didn’t come on too strong in a bad way, because the next thing you knew he was asking for your number and requesting to meet up for some coffee. 
That was four months ago, and though it never went further in a romantic sense, you know you’re lucky to have him as a friend. Unfortunately, the thoughts you have about Seungcheol aren’t the kind you’re supposed to have about a friend. 
You wish you could say you haven’t always wondered what those plush lips would feel like on yours, or if he’d be big enough to stretch you out, or whether he’d take you gently or pin you down and fuck you like he means it, but you’ve wanted Seungcheol ever since you first locked eyes with him, even if it was just through your phone screen.
It would be one thing if you only wanted to sleep with him, but it’s a million times worse because you want to love him too. You want to hold hands, and go on cute dates, and get him little gifts just to see his eyes light up. You want to fall asleep in his arms, and take care of him when he’s sick, and tell anyone who will listen that he’s your boyfriend. 
How could you want anything less when he looks like all of your dreams come to life? When he gazes at you with those big brown eyes, always listening so attentively, as if you’re the only one in his world that matters? When he takes care of you without thinking, like it’s just second nature?
Even at a house party like this, where there are plenty of girls eyeing him and more than a few of his bros wanting to talk to him, he’s by your side. The second your shoulders twitched in a shiver, his jacket was covering them. As soon as your cup was empty, he was accompanying you to the kitchen to refill it. And you know that when you give even a hint of wanting to leave, he’ll be guiding you to his car and taking you home, perfectly sober because he volunteered to be the designated driver tonight just so you could have fun and be safe. 
If only you could tell him to take you back to his place instead of yours. The problem is that he would, and he’d take your makeup off all gently, and give you a big t-shirt to sleep in, and tuck you into his bed before going to sleep on the couch, even though it hurts his back and his feet dangle off the edge. You know because that’s exactly what he did the time you managed to scrape together enough courage to ask if you could stay over after a night out. 
You can’t have a repeat of that, not when you woke up wishing you were his (after dreaming that he’d fucked you into his mattress). You barely kept yourself from begging him to make your dreams a reality that morning, especially when he greeted you with bedhead, a gravelly voice, and your favorite pastries from the bakery down the street. 
It took you weeks to get over it, to be able to look into his eyes without wanting to either confess your love or jump his bones. And still, almost two months later, you’re pushing down both of those desires. Holding your feelings back when you’re with him is a constant struggle, one that’s only made more difficult by his affectionate and protective nature. It’s becoming painful, knowing he likes you but not in the way that you like him, being so close to him but never as close as you want. 
Near Seungcheol is your favorite place to be, but you’re starting to think it’s not somewhere that’s good for you, which is distressing because at this point, he’s one of your best friends. You see him nearly every week for meals and little excursions, and you’d go for every day if you didn’t have to keep him from your other friends lest they give away your secret. You don’t know how you’d cope with not being around him, but you can only assume it wouldn’t be well when he’s so enmeshed in your life, even your landlord knows about him.
God, you cancel one maintenance call after Seungcheol fixes your leaky faucet and Jerry thinks every other repair request is bullshit…
You startle as Seungcheol leans in close to ask you something, though you’re too distracted by the weight of his hand on your waist to process his question. It’s warm even through the cotton of your shirt and the denim of his jacket, and he must think it’s too loud for you to hear him because he uses it to tug you closer as he asks again, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, I think I’m just ready to go,” you respond weakly, forcing a smile that must look as fake as it feels. Knowing you’re not telling the truth about the first part, he frowns reproachfully at you and lets go of your waist to intertwine your fingers with his, pulling you behind him to the front door. There’s a chill in the air though it’s barely September, and he drops your hand to wrap his arm around your shoulders, syncing his steps to yours and holding you tight.
It’s a short walk but the quiet tension makes it feel like eons have passed by the time you arrive at his sedan. He opens the passenger-side door for you and takes your bag so you can climb in unhindered, gently placing it at your feet before patting your knee and shutting you in. You watch as he jogs around the hood and gets in next to you, taking care not to slam his door. You wonder if it’s because the first (and only) time he did on a night like this, you thought he was upset with you for wanting to leave early. 
He was so sweet and concerned when you brought it up, instantly rejecting your offer to uber home so he could go back to the party as if he was offended you even asked, before telling you that there was no point in staying if he didn’t have you with him. That was just one of the many moments that have ruined you for anyone else. 
“What’s on your mind?” Seungcheol asks quietly, turning his body toward you and reaching for your hand. Unsure of what to say, you give it to him silently and fight back a shudder at the feeling of his warm, rough fingers against yours. 
You hate lying to Seungcheol, partially because you always want to be honest with him but mostly because you’re so bad at doing the opposite. He picks up on it immediately, and then he gets this sorrowful, wounded look on his face and goes all quiet, which makes you feel like you’re the worst person on the planet. 
How honest can you be, though?
You could leave out the part about wanting him to fuck your brains out and lead with the non-platonic feelings you hold for him. Or you could leave out the emotional side of things and simply share that you want to ride him into the sunset. Or you could tell him everything, bare your soul and your pussy, and hope for the best. But what if the worst happens? What if he tells you he could never want you like that, that you’re like a sister to him, that he doesn’t want to see you ever again because you’ve ruined this friendship? 
You don’t think you can risk it. 
Still, you’d like to avoid deceiving him and hurting his feelings in the process, so maybe you could just be vague instead. 
“A lot of things, but nothing I want to talk about right now,” you finally answer, avoiding his eyes and pushing down the voice in the back of your mind that screams you’re a coward.
His mouth scrunches to the side and his brows furrow, but after a minute of silence, he accepts it. 
“Okay, just… You know you can tell me anything, right?” He lowers his head to find your gaze, sincerity emanating so brightly from him, it burns. 
Anything but this.
“I know,” you whisper, attempting a smile to appease him, though the way he sighs defeatedly and looks away makes you feel like you’ve just made him worry more. 
Facing the wheel again, he turns the key in the ignition and carefully reverses just enough to pull forward out of his makeshift parking spot. The music coming through his speakers is soft and low, too quiet to really fill the silence sitting between you and him, silence that isn’t usually there. You don’t know what to say so you don’t say anything at all, your body thrumming with a nervous energy that you’re sure Seungcheol can feel. 
Glancing over, you find his hands tight on the steering wheel and his lip caught in between his teeth. You hate the idea that your anxiety has seeped into him, but he’s always seemed to think your happiness is his personal responsibility, so you suppose it makes sense. 
“Are you taking the long way?” You ask in confusion when you face forward again and watch the on ramp to the highway pass you by. 
“Yeah, I hope that’s okay… Just wanted a bit more time with you,” he murmurs with a melancholy tinge to his voice. 
“Of course that’s okay, I love being with you.” Shit, you wanted to make him feel better but you didn’t mean to sound so-
“Do you?” 
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, you never…” He looks over at you and shakes his head, taking a deep breath before continuing to speak. “I know we’re taking things slow but I feel like you’re always holding part of yourself back from me. You never touch me, I’m always the one touching you. I make the majority of our plans. All my friends know you but I don’t know any of your friends,” he sighs in frustration and pulls over into an empty parking lot, putting the car in park. “And now tonight you don’t feel like you can tell me what’s wrong… I just- If you want to break things off, please just say so.”
When he finishes, he gazes at you, dejection swimming in his eyes like you’re breaking his heart. 
In your mind, you repeat the words that stand out to you as if they’re new arrangements of letters with meanings you’ve never encountered before.
T a k i n g  t h i n g s  s l o w.
B r e a k  t h i n g s  o f f.
What  t h i n g s?
“Seungcheol… Please don’t get upset, but I think we might not be on the same page,” you say slowly. “What are we? Because I was under the impression we were-”
“Friends,” you finish just as he responds, like it should be obvious, “Together.”
“You think we’re just friends?! We met on a dating app,” he bursts in a barely contained explosion. 
“You’re so hot, and sure, we went on that one coffee date, but we never went on any others-” You scramble to explain your reasoning. 
“We’ve gone on at least three dates a month since we met! Did you think we were just hanging out?” 
“...Yes?” 
“I plan them, I dress nicely, I pick you up, I pay,” he lists off on his fingers, clearly growing heated. 
“Okay, so maybe those were dates! But we don’t kiss, or have sleepovers, or talk to each other about our feelings,” you attempt to defend yourself. 
“I was trying to follow your lead,” he grimaces regretfully and pinches the bridge of his nose. “God, could I have been kissing you this whole time?” 
“You could have been doing a lot more than kissing me,” you laugh to yourself, thinking about all the wishes and desires you’ve had since you first laid eyes on him. Then you see his face, and it doesn’t really feel funny anymore. 
He looks equal parts irate and amorous, that strong brow furrowed in displeasure though his gaze is greedy, like he’s had enough of you but at the same time, he could never get enough of you. 
“Alright, since I apparently need to lay it all out, here’s what we’re gonna do,” he turns to face you, bringing a hand up to cup your cheek. You barely resist the urge to lean into it before realizing you don’t have to resist anything anymore when it comes to Seungcheol, your hand coming up to cover his and hold it to your face. 
His eyes soften at that, his thumb brushing your cheekbone as he says, “First, we’re going to talk about our feelings and get on the same page. Then, I’m taking you to your place to pack an overnight bag and to mine for a sleepover, and this time I’m not staying on that goddamn couch. It’ll take a while to make up for four months of not kissing you, but we can start with tonight. Does that all sound good to you?”
“Everything sounds great,” you breathe dreamily, already envisioning being on your back beneath him with those perfect cherry lips on yours. 
“Fuck, don’t look at me like that,” he groans, his head falling sideways against the headrest. “We have to talk first.”
“Are you telling me or yourself?” You ask teasingly, giggling when he squeezes his eyes shut and swears under his breath. 
“Both,” he sighs out before saying nervously, “I’ll start, because I’m a good boyfriend.”
You have to swallow down the squeal that threatens to burst from you just at the thought of Seungcheol being your boyfriend. 
“I’ve been into you since I met you,” he begins. “You make me laugh, you make my heart race, and you make me want you, all the damn time. The past four months have been the best of my life. You’re smart and beautiful and special and I want to be with you for as long as you’ll have me.”
Hearing Seungcheol say these things sends a rush of pure joy through you, followed by a flood of affection. He’s all you’ve wanted for four months, and now you know he likes you. And wants to be with you. It’s almost too much for you to handle… Almost. 
“Seungcheol, as soon as I saw you on that god-forsaken app, I knew I could stop looking. You’re funny and kind and thoughtful and devastatingly good looking, and I liked you so much that I tried to be happy just being your friend, but I always wanted more. I think it’s because I was so blinded by my crush on you that I didn’t realize we were more. We are more. Hopefully, you’re okay being with me for a long time, because I don’t know if I’ll ever want to let you go.”
He gazes at you, his face soft and his eyes earnest, adoring. “That’s fine with me,” he murmurs, leaning in. “Can I kiss you?”
“I literally thought you’d never ask,” you whisper, inching forward and holding your breath until his lips finally meet yours. 
They feel supple, lush, just like you knew they would, and he kisses you with a gentleness you didn’t expect. After four months of waiting, you thought he’d be impatient, rough, but he’s moving like he has all the time in the world, like you’re something worth savoring. He pulls away reluctantly, but you’re not done yet, your chin tilting so you can press your lips to his again. 
He sighs against you and you glide your tongue over his bottom lip, gasping when he opens his mouth to lick into yours. His hand shifts to cup your neck, tilting your head so he can kiss you at a different angle, and that’s when the moan slips out. 
It’s quiet, but obvious in the silence of the car, and you pause self consciously for a second before he brushes his thumb over your jaw and moans back. The sound is so hot that you’re inches away from unbuckling your seatbelt and climbing over the center console into his lap, your mind already wrapped up in thoughts of feeling his thick, sturdy thighs under you. He doesn’t let you get that far, breaking away with a gasp and staring at you heatedly, as if he can hear your thoughts. 
“I want too much from you for our first time to be in my car,” he pants raggedly, fighting to catch his breath after you attempted to steal it from him. 
“I suppose I can’t argue with that,” you acquiesce, watching as he shifts into drive and makes his way out of the parking lot. When he’s on the road again, he rests his palm on your thigh with a glance and a raise of his brow, as if to ask if his placement is okay. You just smile and intertwine your fingers with his, trying to shove down the giddiness bubbling up within you as you get closer and closer to your apartment.
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AN: there was a natural separation between scenes so i decided to make this a two parter!! smutty part two will be posted sometime this weekend (hopefully)
please i am begging u to tell me ur thoughts and ur thots i am deep in seungcheol brainrot and i need to commiserate
edited to add: drop a comment to join the taglist!
PART II
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pupkashi · 1 year ago
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the last person you expect to patch you up is gojo satoru, so why are you knocking on his door?
a/n: hi friends! i hope you enjoy this :] im not sure if i like it very much but I’ll let u guys pick it apart and decide if i should be run off the app or not :P please let me know what u guys think !!
wordcount: 1,376
masterlist
you’re hesitant to knock on the door you’re facing, one arm squeezing your middle and the other holding you up against the wall. you’re sure you looked like we’re about to die, but still you could help but feel like death was a better option than knocking on gojo satoru’s door at 2 in the morning.
the stinging in your side leaves you no choice, lifting your hand and knocking three times. every passing second seems eternal and you almost want to just walk away and head to campus, hoping you make it until morning.
the door swings open, satoru looks at you with wide eyes and messy hair. he looks so normal, you think, taking in his appearance of sweatpants and a t shirt he must’ve thrown on seconds before.
“what the fuck happened to you?” he breathes out, not hesitating to pick you up, carrying you to his restroom and flicking the light on. if you were any more lucid you might’ve caught the genuine concern in his voice and the pounding heart in his chest.
“think the higher ups hate me” you manage to chuckle out, sucking in a sharp breathe when you try to sit up on your own.
satoru is quick to help you up, large hands gently handling you. his brows are furrowed as he looks at the state you’re in.
“why didn’t you call up shoko or go to campus or- literally anything else?!” he scold you, his voice is a higher pitch than you’re used to, he’s running his hands through his hair, tugging slightly before sighing deeply and calming himself down.
“didn’t wanna bother ‘em” you say, voice small. gojo knows in his mind you of all people could never be a bother, especially when shoko absolutely loves you.
“can i take this off?” he asks softly, tugging at your uniform top. you nod weakly, letting him work the fabric off you gently, sucking his teeth when he sees the gash on your side.
“that bad huh?” you laugh, there’s a beat of silence that you find unbearable. your eyes are heavy and the only way you can muster staying awake is by talking, words leaving your mouth without even thinking, “not gonna tell me ‘I’ve had worse’ or ‘this is nothing’ ?”
satoru only brings himself to snicker, “you’re about to pass out and you still wanna bicker with me.”
“to be fair it’s always you starting shit” you chuckle, hissing when he starts cleaning your wound. satoru mumbles a small ‘sorry’ before continuing.
you weren’t completely wrong, satoru always loved seeing you riled up. he loved watching the way the fire ignited behind your eyes when you shot something back at satoru, he loved watching your nose scrunch up when he said something stupid, he loved how you’d fight back smiles when he disrespected some asshole higher up.
“yeah, yeah, you're always saying that” he smiles, finishing up whatever he could on your side before moving to the cuts on your face.
you were still as he gently dabbed the wipes on your face, the slight stinging feeling was the last thing on your mind. the smell of his body wash was muddling your thoughts, the way his fingertips brushed against your skin gave you goosebumps.
“who sent you on the mission?” his voice was no longer playful and light. there was an edge to his voice as he spoke, and you couldn’t stop the chills that ran down your spine.
the only thing you could muster was a small shrug of your shoulders.
“it was the higher ups from last time, wasn’t it? the one you stood up to?” his voice is threatening and low, blue eyes boring into you as you tried to avoid eye contact.
“y/n, look at me” the stern tone left no room for protest, looking at him and gulping. you nodded your head, whispering a small ‘yeah.’ satoru mumbled something you couldn’t hear, his jaw clenched and hands shaking slightly.
“I’m going to kill them” he spat, taking a step back before look at you again, the sight filling him with even more rage.
“didn’t you say that wouldn’t change anything?” you stated, sitting up as best you could, trying your best to hide the pain you felt from the sudden movement.
satoru ignored your words, already making a move to head out of the bathroom door, but your voice stopped him.
“don’t- i don’t wanna be alone” you whispered, eyes watering a bit as the reality of the situation hit you all at once. “i just- nevermind” you laughed dryly, hissing as you pushed yourself off the countertop and stood.
satoru was immediately at your side holding you up, “what are you-” your words cut him off before he could finish.
“I’m gonna go home, don’t wanna bother you more than i have” you smiled, eyes still a bit teary. you’re brain doesn’t process what’s happening fast enough, only realizing what’s happening a couple seconds later when satoru’s arms are wrapped around your body.
“you aren’t going anywhere” he mumbles against the top of your head, squeezing you gently.
the warmth of his body is enough to comfort you, muscles relaxing and letting your tears spill against his chest.
“why?” you whisper, the question causing satoru to tense up against you. “why do you care so much?”
his thoughts stop for a second, the only thing on his mind is you. the way you’re looking at him in a way you never have before, with an emotion he can’t place. he can only think of one thing.
“isn’t it obvious?” he replies, voice soft, his cheeks heating up and ears burning. he’s trying to hide the slight tremble of his hands as he caressed your cheek softly, thumb wiping away a stray tear.
“only obvious thing about you is your ego” you smile, laughing a bit between sniffles as satoru gasps at you.
“and you say i start things?” he giggles, picking you up softly before leading you to his bedroom. the two of you in a comfortable silence as he looks through his drawers, handing you one of his shirts and shorts for you to change into.
“you can drop me off at home-” you begin but satoru is quick to speak over you.
“I’ll sleep on the couch, there’s some toothbrushes in the top drawer under the sink,” he says, continuing to list off any other items you’d need and where to find them.
it’s ten minutes later and you’re laying in the large bed, staring at the ceiling when you find the energy to walk into the hallway, peeking around the corner and into the living room.
satoru smiled at you, the bright tv lights illuminating his figure, “cant sleep?” he asks. you nod your head, slowly making your way towards him. “c’mere” he says softly, gently moving you when you sit on the couch, letting you cuddle into his side until you were comfortable.
between the exhaustion and the comfort of satoru’s fingers running along your arm you were sound asleep in a matter of minutes (10, satoru was counting). he placed a feathery kiss to the top of you head, shifting to pick you up, carrying you to his bed and tucking you in, slipping besides you before facing the opposite direction.
you stirred a bit, mumbling something and causing satoru to turn, “y/n?” he whispered. you seemed to gravitate towards him, one of your arms finding him and tugging his shirt, making him come closer to you. still asleep, you nuzzled yourself against him, sighing softly before stilling again.
satoru draped his arm around you, keeping you close before letting his eyes shut. for tonight, he won’t think about the thing he’ll say and do to the higher ups who sent you on that mission as punishment.
instead he’ll hold you close, keeping you safe and making sure you’re well enough to argue on any and every thing possible. he’ll make you breakfast tomorrow and ask if you feel the same for him. he’ll rush you to shoko so he can kiss you with as much passion and fervor as he’s imagined since the time you almost beat him in an argument.
taglist (send an ask to be added!): @chilichopsticks @anime-for-the-sleepless @4sat0ruu @luna0713hunter @safaia-47 @nanamikentoseyebags
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evilgwrl · 21 days ago
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Neighbour!Simon Riley x Reader
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Girl Next Door (Nine)
CW: Female masturbation, brief description of male masturbation, reader is kinda like Bella from twilight when he disappears, hot and steamy shower hookups, humping with no clothes on, THEYRE ABT TO FUCK!!!
Previous Chapter, Next Chapter
NOTE: I just wanted to say a big thank you to everyone who has been PM or leaving little messages in my requests. Thank you for your ongoing support during my time away from the app. On a short note, if you are ever struggling with mental health or issues in general, please feel free to message me. I appreciate the love you guys give me, it really does make writing so much easier from the continuous support
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It was void — a soft hint of nothing penetrating the air like poison. It had been nearly two weeks, a perpetual torture of hearing nothing, seeing nothing. You weren’t sure what was worse; him leaving with only a scribbled note or the idea that he wouldn’t come back.
Before him, it never mattered. His presence was occasionally, only lulling you to sleep in the simmer of a summer night as his feet padded gently across wooden floors, floors you had now stepped on. Your skin felt engraved into his apartment, every board digging into the thickened skin of your feet like a tattoo.
You felt grumpy constantly, soppy fingers nestled into your cunt to ease the pungent ache of arousal that leaked from your drowsy heat. The crook of your neck was constantly hot, overworked with sweat as you cried out into the air, head thrown back in an attempt to build the never-coming release.
Your hips would rock in a fastening motion against the vibrating toy; nipples perked up from the arrogant breeze that kissed your skin, the window open as delicate flutters of your throat filled the air.
You were desperate and incredibly overworked, always working past your designated hours to distract yourself. When you weren’t in the office, you were out, crammed into a pushy bar as you chugged down the searing taste of golden liquor, your belly hot with turmoil as you nudged away anyone who got too close, anyone who wasn’t him.
You were perplexed by the growing emotions that consumed you, confused as to why you felt as strongly as you did so quickly. Maybe it was the way he took care of you, licking your slick into the pool of his mouth until you gushed around his tongue. Maybe it was the way he fucked you, nudging every crevice of your cunt with precise expertise, that had you crying. Or maybe it was the way he watched you, eyes lapping in every delicate movement you made, observing you like a trained hawk.
Days went by slower, draining on like they were anxious to be replaced by the moon, the constant need for brightness scorching your skin as you huffed and puffed. The atmosphere slowly began to transition, the leaves turning a crisp malt before they would eventually crumble under the wind.
“Are you sure you don’t need me to stay longer, I could get a head start on-“
“Go home, Y/N, I see you more than I see my own husband these days, enjoy your weekend.”
You grumbled, feet skidding against the carpark floor as you slammed your door shut, anxious eyes staring into the backseat before flicking the lock. There was a dull ache in your lumbar spine, coiling into the middle of your back as you jammed the gears into drive.
Like clockwork, you sighed as you drove past the roads you had driven on with Simon, remembering how warm your mouth was, stuffed full of aching cock that later bruised your pillowy walls. Your finger flickered to your car play, adjusting the sound before you began to mumble lyrics into the air.
The sound of gravel skidded against worn tyres as you pulled into your cul-de-sac, brows furrowed at the plain sight of your neighbour’s side. You felt like a clingy ex, desperate for any lick you could receive from the man.
Simon felt just as tortured; his body was scolded with fresh wounds and bruises, blown welts of blue and yellow gouged into his skin in an eerie display of his work. When his finger wasn’t pulling a trigger, ripping the hairs from his nose as gunpowder and gnarly metallic drenched his olfactory organs, his wrist ached with a twisting motion, tugging at the fat of his cock in the barely luke-warm showers as his mouth filled with water.
It was unusual for the man to feel this needy, his sex drive was normally relatively low, especially whilst he was away on deployment. The Lieutenant wasn’t dumb; he would never allow himself to grow distracted on the job, but he never thought he would have a greater reason to go home.
“Ay’ Lieutenant, ye’ excited to go home ‘n see that pretty lass of a neighbour?”
Simon’s face turned sour as he looked at Soap, “Watch ye’ mouth, Johnny.”
Johnny snarled into a cheeky grin, tipping back the shot that melted into the glass as Price clapped the two men on the back.
“We did well, gentlemen. Our flight leaves at 0600. Take some time off during our break, make the most of it, a’right?”
“Is there ever a break in the Task Force?” Gaz quipped, boyish smile on his face as more alcohol found its way into their systems, throats burning at the foul aftertaste. The banter from the men didn’t simmer down for hours, endless rounds of drinks lined across the bar table before they stumbled back to their quarters in the dead of the night, duffle bags tucked neatly into the corners of their beds.
The smell of espresso burned through your nose as you crowded into the line of the coffee shop the next morning. Saturday mornings in your town always seemed the busiest, dogs barking on leashes at ongoing birds as Mothers cooed at their newborns and businessmen honked at the elderly, steaming a trail of gas down the intersection.
The flat white you ordered was duller than usual as the half-full cup made its way into a crammed bin. Your keys felt heavy in your hands as you flickered with the lock on your front door, barging it open with a grunt before you locked up. Dusk began to fall once more, the sound of cicadas chirped into the hues of the sunset before darkness consumed outside the walls of your house.
Your mouth was stuffed full of cheap Chinese takeaway as you binged another episode of Criminal Minds, tongue-tingling with the residue of roasted duck before you yawned, huffing into the bathroom as you stripped yourself bare.
Simon was quick to thank the taxi, bag tucked tightly in his calloused palm as he made his way up the porch steps. He stared at his slight reflection in his window, tugging his front door open as he kicked off his boots. A smile etched onto his face as he heard the dampened sound of clutter on the other side, undoing his belt as he wove his door shut once more, eager fists banging upon yours.
You grunted into the air at the sudden interruption, leg soaked with water as you dipped it in to test the heat. Your dressing gown quickly scolded you as you wrapped the garment around the bareness of your skin, nipples strained against the thin fabric as you muttered to yourself.
The knock repeated as you grumbled out, “I’m coming!”
Wood swung open as your eyes widened, taking in the dishevelled, yet incredibly striking appearance of your beloved neighbour.
“I missed hearing you say that.”
His voice was rough, the lack of sleep and obvious torment he had succumbed to during his time away evident as you gawked at him.
“Simon? Hi – You’re home.”
“Landed about an hour ago.”
Your brows furrowed as you ushered him in, the breeze drifting under your attire as you shivered slightly.
“How was –“ you paused, “How was your deployment?”
“Gruelling, but it’s work.”
You nodded, taking in the sight of him again as you swallowed thickly.
“Do you want something to drink?”
Simon shook his head, eyes flickering up and down your frame, taking in the leftover moisture that drenched your calf and the way the fabric stuck a little too well to you.
“I could go for a shower,” he stated.
Your back was burning hot, cool tiles barely succumbing to the growing desire that fuelled through you as the man pushed you against the drenched wall, your core whining for its needed release as your legs locked around his hips, pussy clenching around nothing as the girth of his shaft ground against your sloppy mound.
Scorched kisses buried into your neck, impaling into your flesh as you offered him more skin to toy with, heavy gasps pounding through your lungs as you whined, a tight grip coiled around the back of his neck.
“Si-“ you squeaked as a heavy grip found your chest, tugging at achy nipples with a swelling grip.
“Missed your voice,” the man practically growled before your lips interlocked, tongues exploring the depths of your mouths in an attempt to make up for lost time. You could taste the alcohol and smoke on his, and he could taste the caffeine on yours.
“I didn’t know when you would come back,” you panted in between the movement of your lips.
“Don’t think I could’a spent another day without your cunt.”
His words were foul, yet your pussy practically squelched, throbbing with neglect as you mewled against him, tugging his bottom lip in between your teeth as he grunted, rubbing his tip against your wanton entrance.
“Please fuck me, Si.”
“If you insist,” he grinned, cowered into your neck with an arrogant smirk before the inviting heat of your fluttering cunt welcomed him.
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callooopie · 4 months ago
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Modern!au Davos who's hooking up with one of his friends from their big friend group but they have to keep it a secret
Situation Situationship // Modern!Davos
I don’t want your body. But I hate to think about you with somebody else — Somebody Else // The 1975
chat I think I went too sad and not funny with this
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What Davos offers you is a beneficial relation between you two. A humble friend’s with benefits scenario, a situationship if you will. An agreement between two friends born out of boredom and driven by the need to just fuck things out. This would have to not affect your friendship, with both of you sharing a friend group; the possible chaos of a relationship between you two would be too much. Rules were then set out: no pda, no posting, no exclusivity.
Plus you were already sorta talking to someone and he was a guy who didn’t like being tied down. And both of you knew that a breakup between you two would make the friend group weird. So Davos couldn’t really complain when you would talk about your other dates or some other guy. He bit his tongue as he let you vent about what went wrong, or what could’ve been better. Oh, that guy didn’t pay? Damn, you should always pay for the pretty girls. This was his grave, and he would lie in it.
Despite this being his idea, Davos really hates it actually. Which is a little funny. The thing that he insisted would not happen, happened to him. It’s a little hard not to fall in love, or not to become attached to you when you’re the only one who seems to understand him. In the daylight when you’re hanging out with the group, when your eyes don’t leave him as he talks, when you text him throughout the day about anything and everything. Your closest friend—Davos. Even worse when it grows into night and he’s in your bed or you’re in his. He does want to tell you to stop doing aftercare so good; the way you caress his face and card your fingers through his hair makes him feel too many things better left unsaid. He refrains from saying anything.
And maybe he thinks the no PDA rule is stupid too. He sees how his friends touch and hold their girls, his own fingers twitching by his side as he watches the displays. He wonders if you think about it too. If you think about the feel of his hand in yours, how different it could be in the daytime. How your held hands could swing back and forth as you walk along a path. Maybe he would pull you into a store that catches his eye, or down an alley to press you against the wall. He wonders if you like it when he holds your hand at night. Do you like it when his fingers press open your closed palm, interlacing his fingers with yours? He always thinks about how your hand is smaller than his. He knows it makes you shiver, his fingertips trailing down your back; he hopes his calloused hands feel gentle against your soft body, maybe just as soft as his kisses. He likes when you sit in his lap, because then he can look into your eyes as his hands slowly run down your spine. No matter the reason however, Davos knows his hand wouldn’t leave yours. Day or night, rain or shine. If the rule did not exist.
Secretly he either blocks your social media accounts or simply deletes the apps off his phone. He wasn’t a big user on those anyways, and to see you post about dates or what you’re wearing to them drives him up a wall. Davos doesn’t wanna think about it but he does; he lets his mind wander to what you would wear to a date with him. Would you like something more formal? A nice restaurant? Or maybe a laidback affair, a movie at his place where you could snack and hide under the blankets. He would offer you his hoodie, would you take it? You already wear his clothes when you’re around anyways, rifling through his closet like a little animal in search of the softest fabrics to wear after you two finish. Sometimes when you’re looking with your back turned to Davos, he’ll stare at you as you pick up shirts or toss them aside. He’ll say he’s attracted to your body, the way it curves or shifts with each singular step or movement. But Davos also knows different; he’s staring past the skin, past your intricate body, and looking—hoping—for you to turn back to meet his gaze. You never leave with them, no. You always give them back before you leave.
He wonders if you’ll think him pathetic or weird, if he begs you to stay. Davos isn’t sure what’s come over him this early morning. It’s your usual routine; you both get up, he makes coffee, you get dressed to leave. Davos knows he’ll throw up if he so much as takes a sip of the warm coffee, feeling too tense and anxious about what he could do—what he wants to do. You’re oblivious maybe, or you’re just ignoring how strange he’s acting today. His thoughts are racing: Don’t look at your phone, keep your eyes on him. Don’t turn away from him, don’t step toward the door. Don’t, don’t, don’t. Davos can’t believe it himself that he’s reached you before you’re even out the door. His breathing heavy as his hand remains wrapped around your wrist. His stomach does somersaults as you look back at him. Davos swallows thickly, he’s this deep in already, might as well keep going.
Whatever the outcome of his stupidity this morning; he hopes you’ll be at least somewhat kind in letting him down as he spills his heart out to you…
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m1ckeyb3rry · 5 months ago
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hii!! First of all ur theme is so aesthetically pleasing and I love all the nagi. I like binge read all of your event works and *chefs kiss*. Could I request a piece for karasu with the theme of like academic rivals/classmates? No worries if not, hoping ur doing well and taking care of urself!
On an unrelated note I saw that post about rude comments and im so sorry that’s happening to you! I honestly don’t know what drives ppl to bother leaving nasty comments esp when it’s not like they’re being forced to read anything T-T Hoping to send you a bit of love to counter those trolls!
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── FIVE WAYS TO KILL A CROW
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Synopsis: Crows are clingy birds, and Tabito Karasu’s feelings are hurt easier than you realize. (part two here!) (part three here!)
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Event Masterlist
Pairing: Karasu x Reader
Chapter Word Count: 9.1k
Content Warnings: academic rivals to lovers, karasu is an asshole, reader is also an asshole, jealous karasu 😍, hiori randomly pulls up at one point for some reason??, yukimiya requests to follow one (1) person and accidentally causes the most dramatic pseudo breakup ever
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A/N: anon i used to pray for times like these 😭😩 LMAOAO karasu is my fav (behind nagi ofc) but i’ve never gotten around to writing him so getting this request made me SO excited HAHA. i haven’t done anything rivals/enemies to lovers before so fingers crossed this doesn’t feel too awkward or unrealistic or rushed anything!! and yayyy i love my little nagi theme (and also nagi in general) i’m glad you like it too!! and my writing too, you’re so sweet 🥹 there will always be jerks unfortunately but lovely people like you make it all worth it 💖 thank you again and i hope this is kind of what you were looking for 🫶🏻
Additional: part of my 500 follower event! see the event description and rules to make a request of your own.
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ONE: POISON IT
You could hardly contain your smile as you sauntered up to Tabito Karasu’s desk, your exam held behind your back. He was sitting by himself — his seat partner was sick this week, from what you had heard, so he had taken the chance to spread out his things and stretch his legs. When he noticed you, he raised his eyebrows, mouth tugging into a frown at your amusement.
“What?” he said. You brandished the paper in front of you, irises sparkling as you leaned over to rest your forearms on the desk.
“I got full marks on the last Chemistry exam,” you said. Karasu made a face at you, snatching the test from your hands and scrunching his face up as he inspected it.
“Seriously?” he said.
“Seriously,” you said. “What did you get?”
He crossed his arms and looked away. “Not telling.”
“You definitely failed!” you said in delight, taking back the exam and laughing at him. “How embarrassing. You failed the easiest test of the year, and yet you consider Chemistry to be one of your best subjects? I can’t wait to see how badly you do during finals week.”
“I did not fail,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I got a ninety-eight.”
“Ninety-eight! That’s even worse than outright failure,” you said. “You were so close to perfection, and yet in the end, you fell short. It must sting for things to work out like that.”
“Yes, I’m positively wounded,” he said dryly before batting his eyelashes at you. From anyone else, the rapid switch in demeanor would’ve left you reeling, but the shifting mood was to be expected from him. “Will you give me a kiss and make it better?”
You rolled up your test and smacked him on the head with it. “No.”
“Anyways, my overall grade in the class is still higher than yours, because rankings were updated today and I’m still number one, so I’m not sure what cause you have to be boasting,” he said.
“Hm, but did you notice who’s number one in Modern Literature?” you said, pulling out your phone and opening the school’s app, which listed each class’s rankings in every subject. “Yup, that’s right, me.”
“Good job, Y/N!” he said, clapping mockingly. “Shall we have a party? It’s a big occasion — the mediocre number two has finally done something of such note that she’s number one for the first time in her life.”
“I’ve been number one plenty of other times!” you snapped. “For your information, I’ve been first in the class in mathematics and history every year since middle school, so who are you to be acting like this is a first? If anyone’s mediocre, it’s you!”
He raised his hands in the air innocently, his trademark smirk gracing his features once more now that he had succeeded in irritating you, as was his typical goal.
“Alright, alright, no need to be upset,” he said. “It’s not good for you. Clouds your judgment.”
“In what way?” you said.
“I mean, somehow, you got the two of us confused,” he said. “And we’re nothing alike.”
“I did no such thing,” you said.
“Well, I seem to recall you calling me mediocre, but between the two of us, the subpar one is obviously you,” he said, flicking your forehead. You slapped his hand away.
“You — the bell is going to ring, so I’m going to go back to my seat, but just so you know, you’re way more mediocre than me, Mr. Two-Percent-Short!” you said.
“Stellar comeback!” he called out. “My ego is bruised beyond healing!”
“Good!” you called back, ignoring the sarcasm. “Maybe it’ll return to a more normal size. Your head has grown too big, it’s almost as ridiculous as that hair of yours!”
“Leave the hair alone!”
During your free period, you decided to go to the library for some peace and quiet to work on your homework and find some of the sources you needed for your next research project. For belonging to a high school, the library was surprisingly extensive, and you had managed to find relevant information for every other project you had ever done in it, so you had high hopes. Unfortunately, it seemed this latest assignment was more obscure than anything you had completed before, so on your second lap of the shelves where the books, if they existed, would be located, you resigned yourself to giving up.
Just then, a volume caught your eye. The cover was shiny and pristine, the spine still unbent with newness. Crouching, you pulled it out, and when you saw the title emblazoned across the cover in bright yellow lettering, you began to laugh, making a beeline to the checkout counter with it tucked under your arm.
“Hey, Y/N! How was your morning?” your best friend said as you set your things down next to her in the cafeteria. You hummed in agreement, searching the room for a familiar head of dark hair. “You good? Looking for someone? Let me guess: your secret boyfriend that you’re keeping from the rest of us.”
“Yeah, I’m looking for Karasu,” you said before the rest of her words registered. “No!”
“You’re finally coming out and saying it?” she said, holding her hands to her heart and pretending to swoon. “I’ve been waiting for you to confess.”
“He’s not my secret boyfriend that I’m keeping from everyone, I’m just looking for him!” you said.
“Could’ve fooled me,” she said. “What do you need him for, anyways?”
“I got a book for him in the library,” you said.
“Right, and this is the guy you hate? Your ‘mortal enemy’ or whatever?” she checked.
“Yes,” you said.
“But you…got a book for him from the library, and now you’re looking for him so that you can give it to him?” she said. You scoffed.
“When you put it like that, it sounds different than it really is,” you said. “Trust me, this isn’t a nice gesture or anything. You can consider it revenge.”
“When are you going to get over this stupid rivalry?” she said. “He’s not even that bad, you know.”
“Not even that bad? Not even that bad? Are we talking about the same Karasu here? I’m referring to Tabito, not his older sister,” you said.
“Ah, I think so? He’s a nice guy,” she said.
“He is the spawn of the devil! And he’s the one who started it, so I’ll stop hating him once he apologizes and means it,” you said.
“Do you think he even remembers that?” she said. “It was in middle school.”
You glared at her. “I remember it. If he doesn’t, well, that’s just more of a reason for me to dislike him on principle.”
“Okay, okay, whatever you say,” she said. “Sorry for complimenting him. He’s awful and rude and mean. I think he’s sitting outside with some of his soccer friends, if you still want to find him.”
“Thank you!” you said, instantly forgetting that you were upset with her for taking Karasu’s side instead of yours. “Watch my stuff, okay? I’ll be right back.”
“See you soon,” she said. “Have fun. Actually, maybe it’s more realistic for me to just tell you not do anything that’ll get you expelled.”
You waved her off as you marched out to the courtyard where Karasu and his friends were lounging, their chairs positioned in the shade so that they did not overheat while they ate. None of them noticed you approaching until you were tapping Karasu on the shoulder and smiling at him sweetly.
“Y/N? What are you doing here?” he said, sounding oddly flustered. One of his friends snorted, and more than a few chuckled, but you ignored all of them in favor of setting your bag on the armrest of Karasu’s chair.
“Hi, Karasu. I was in the library earlier and I saw this book that reminded me of you, so I took the liberty of checking it out,” you said.
“Oh,” he said. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“You’re so considerate, Y/N!” one of his friends said.
“We’re all so jealous of Karasu here,” another friend, the one who you believed had snorted, said. “You’re way too pretty for him.”
“Shut up,” Karasu said, sticking up his middle finger at his friend, though none of the group paid him much mind. In fact, it seemed to egg them on more, as they continued to hurl jabs at Karasu while simultaneously incessantly complimenting you.
You didn’t respond to any of them, instead pulling out the book and handing it to Karasu, interlacing your fingers and waiting for his reaction. At first he seemed confused, and then dismay dawned upon his features as he realized what he was holding in his hands: a copy of Chemistry for Dummies.
“What the fuck?” he said. You patted him on the shoulder.
“It’s only suitable,” you said. Suddenly, his expression cleared, and he beamed at you, which caused unease to brew in your stomach. You knew for a fact that he was about to say something infuriating, and you mentally prepared yourself to respond.
“What a roundabout way of telling me you need tutoring! Of course, I’m happy to help you anytime you want,” he said, tilting back in his chair so that he could cross his arms over his chest arrogantly.
“Why would I want tutoring from someone who does worse than me in the class?” you shot back, crossing your own arms in retaliation.
One of his friends whistled. “She got you there, Tabito.”
“Enough out of you,” Karasu said through gritted teeth. His friend winked at you and mouthed ‘nice one.’
“Look, man, all I’m saying is that if you want to ask out such a beautiful girl, you’ve gotta have a little more finesse than that!” he said.
“He can have all the finesse in the world, but I’d still say no,” you said. His friends hollered with raucous laughter, which caused Karasu’s face to turn red, but you only pressed the book into his hands. “It’s due in two weeks. That should be long enough, right? Make sure you return it on time, please, I don’t want late fines.“
“I hope you go into debt because of this stupid book,” he said.
“Aww,” you cooed. “You’ll be the one paying it off, so it doesn’t matter to me. See you around, Karasu — or, hopefully not.”
TWO: SHOOT IT
You and Karasu had met in middle school. The two of you had been assigned to work on a presentation together, and he had told you during your first meeting that because you were a dunce, you should just listen to him and do whatever he said. Ever since that day, you had done everything you could to show him how much better than him you were; for his part, he found great joy in getting on your nerves and so took part in every argument with pleasure.
You had long ago proved his middle school self wrong, by anyone’s standards, but at this point it was a habit for you to hate Tabito Karasu as well as a habit for him to hate you back. And of course, habits were hard to form but harder to break, so you would probably continue in that manner until the day you graduated and left him behind for good.
It was just the two of you who did not get along. Your friends were cordial with him and his ilk, and you did not really mind his little group all that much, crude though they sometimes were. After all, it was just in the manner of teenage boys, and when they were not taking advantage of your presence to make fun of Karasu, they were actually a pretty agreeable sort.
In fact, your friend groups tended to coexist most of the time, even having lunch together every now and again — though they were always careful to ensure that you and Karasu were kept entirely separate, or else you both were guaranteed to ruin the cheerful camaraderie with your sharp tongues and quick tempers. The measures they took were admirable, but unfortunately, they were not always enough. After all, what were precautions when compared with inevitabilities?
“Oh my god!” you squealed. “Guys! Oh my god, oh my god, I can’t believe this is happening?”
“Can’t believe what’s happening?” your best friend said, speaking for everyone at the table. They were all tuned in to you now, wondering what the big news might be that would bring about such a reaction from you, given how put-together you tended to be.
“Do you remember that one model I happened to meet while I was out last weekend? Kenyu Yukimiya? He just requested to follow me on social media!” you said.
“No way!” your best friend said.
“Way!” you said. The only warning you got was an arm pressing against your back, and then your phone was abruptly snatched from your hands. You gasped, spinning in your seat and scowling when you realized that the culprit was none other than that scavenging crow, Tabito Karasu.
“What the hell? He’s average at best, why are you so excited?” he said, scrolling through Yukimiya’s profile, his eyes narrowed critically. “Y/N, don’t you have any standards?”
“You’re probably the only person in the entire country who doesn’t find him gorgeous,” you said, exhaling dreamily as you took your phone back from him and stared at the artful manner Yukimiya was posing in for his profile photo. “He was even better looking in person. And sonice, too! They don’t make men like that often.”
Karasu frowned and swiped at your phone again. You held it out of his reach, reaching across the bench to press your foot against his chest, effectively holding him back from further attempts at thievery.
“Let me look at him again!” he said.
“Um, no,” you said. “I don’t need you making more fun of him. I know you’re jealous, but expressing it like this only makes you uglier, just so you know.”
“Looks like they’re back at it again,” one of your friends said, massaging her temples.
“Yup,” one of Karasu’s teammates said.
“Ugly? Ugly? You’re calling me ugly? Have you looked in a mirror recently? Also, get your gross shoe off of my shirt!” Karasu said.
“I have looked in a mirror recently, actually, and incidentally I’ve also been keeping an eye on my follow requests. Guess what? I’m obviously good looking, since a legitimate model wants to follow me! How many celebrities request to follow you, huh? I bet the answer is zero!” you said, though you did do him the favor of swinging your leg back, allowing him to brush himself off in disdain.
“Lots of soccer players want to follow me,” he said. “I’m quite good, you know.”
“That doesn’t count,” you said. “It has nothing to do with how you look. They’d request to follow you no matter how hideous and poorly styled you and your hair are.”
“Are they seriously arguing about which of them is worse looking?” Karasu’s teammate said.
“I suppose so,” your friend said. “They’re both really hot, though, so I don’t know what the big deal is…”
“Geez, they’ll take any excuse to go at it, huh?” Karasu’s teammate said.
“Pretty much,” your friend said.
“Guess all of that tension has to go somewhere,” his teammate said.
“Exactly,” your friend said, shaking her head as she finished up her lunch.
“That model probably only works for horror magazines!” Karasu said. “It barely even counts!”
“He was in Vogue Japan,” you said smugly. “Look it up, stupid.”
“So what?” he said.
“So he’s handsome,” you said. “Like I said, it’s okay if you’re envious of him, as long as you accept it instead of doing this whole weird denial thing. I don’t blame you for it — in fact, I thought you would be. You don’t have much going for you overall, do you? In all honesty, it’s only natural for you to feel like this when faced with what you lack.”
Karasu’s eyes widened, and then he stood abruptly, picking up his bag with one arm and haphazardly pulling it onto his back. “Goodbye.”
“Bye,” you said, not really caring one way or another what he did with himself. Actually, you would prefer it if he wasn’t there, interrupting your meal and your daydreaming about your impending romance with Kenyu Yukimiya.
“Wow, Y/N,” your best friend said once Karasu was gone. “You’re kind of dumb, you know that?”
“What are you talking about?” you said.
“It’s not her fault,” another one of Karasu’s teammates said. “He’s not much better.”
“Huh?” you said.
“Never mind,” your best friend said, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I have a migraine now.”
“Want some ibuprofen?” Karasu’s teammate said. She accepted it gratefully, and nothing more was said on the subject. The rest of lunch passed in a peaceful manner, though strangely, Karasu did not return.
It should’ve made you happy. You wondered, then, why it felt so odd without him there, like there was a gaping maw sitting in the place that should’ve been occupied by him.
THREE: DROWN IT
Ever since the day that Yukimiya had requested to follow you, you and Karasu hadn’t spoken. He refused to make eye contact with you in the few classes the two of you had together, keeping his gaze lowered to his work and his shoulders hunched away from you. You didn’t even try to talk to him; something told you that it would not be well-received, and you weren’t anywhere near confrontational enough to bring up his odd behavior, so the time without him dragged on and on, seemingly without end.
At first, you were happy, and you told your friends as much. It was a much-needed break from the constant aggravation he brought you, and you found your classes without your competition to be almost boring in their simplicity.
“The more you say you’re happy that you and Karasu aren’t talking, the less it sounds believable,” your best friend said, taking a sip from her juice box.
“Believe it! This is what I’ve been wanting since middle school,” you said.
“Is it?” she said. “It sounds like you’re kind of upset.”
“Am not!” you said. She shrugged.
“Sure,” she said, drawing out the word. “Definitely not.”
“Why would I be upset?” you said.
“You tell me,” she said.
“I’m telling you that I’m not upset. You’re the one with the theory, so give me some evidence to substantiate it,” you said.
“Fine,” she said. “You talk about him all of the time, even when you guys are getting along — or, at least, your twisted little version of being friendly, which isn’t friendly by anyone else’s standards but it seems to work for you two, so I won’t comment further. You keep telling us that you’re so delighted he’s leaving you alone, but you do this thing with your face when you say it that makes it super obvious you’re not. It’s not the kind of behavior you’d display when discussing someone you hate as much as you claim to hate him. Finally, there’s a reason half the school thinks you guys are dating, and it’s not just the obvious aesthetic appeal of that match.”
“What? I thought you were just trying to bother me when you brought that up!” you said. She shook her head.
“No, it’s a common misconception. It’s why no one’s ever asked you out. They all think you’re already taken. Actually, the other day, a guy asked me if I thought he might have a chance with you now that you and Karasu had broken up,” she said.
“What’d you say?” you said, half in horror, half in fascination.
“I told him probably not, and that you and Karasu hadn’t broken up, because you were never together in the first place,” she said.
“Oh, okay,” you said.
“Should I have said something else?” she said. You shook your head.
“No,” you said. “What else would you have said?”
“Dunno,” she said. “Look, you need to cheer up. I’m sure that if you just try to talk to him, things will go back to normal in an instant. Then you can return to complaining about him like usual.”
“Talk to him? About what?” you said. She gave you an incredulous look.
“You were pretty mean to him the other day, Y/N,” she said.
“It wasn’t any meaner than what he says to me on the regular,” you said. “And what I say to him in return. I don’t see why he’d be more or less offended.”
“I think it was a little worse than what you typically say,” she said. “Plus, the context was different.”
“How so?” you said. She shook her head.
“That’s for him to explain, not me,” she said. “Come on, don’t be stubborn. Work things out with him. I miss hanging out with the guys.”
“Ah, so that’s why it matters to you,” you said. “Sorry to say it, but I don’t have any plans at attempting conversation with him anytime soon. Like I said, things are finally calm and stress-free for me. He’s the one being immature, as always, so why’s it up to me to make things better?”
“Immature?” your best friend said. “You’ve held a grudge against him since middle school.”
“And?” you said. She squinted at you before pursing her lips.
“Well, I guess the two of you really are made for one another,” she said.
“What?”
The next week would mark the beginning of the swimming unit in PE class, which you were actually looking forward to. You loved to swim, you had ever since you were a child and your parents had brought you into the water for the first time, and the thought of getting to earn a good grade for something you liked doing in the first place was an agreeable on.
In preparation, you decided to stop by the pool after classes were over so that you could acclimate yourself to the motions of the strokes once again. The swim team’s practice had been canceled, and no one else ever used the pool, so you would have the place to yourself, which was just about the closest thing to heaven you could imagine while still living on Earth.
Changing into your school-issued bathing suit and putting your things into a locker, you tied your hair back so that it was out of the way and stepped into the steaming indoor pool deck. The water was a bright cerulean shade, the lanes split by lane-lines which alternated colors to match your school’s emblem. When you dipped your toe into the deep end, you found it was warm, not cold like you had feared. The school didn’t splurge on heating the water of the rarely-used pool, so usually, it was all but freezing. You supposed that they must’ve had complaints from last year’s PE classes, so they had restarted the heaters in order to ensure that no one had any cause to whine about the temperature this year.
For a moment, you just sat on the tiled edge, your legs swishing about in the water, the heels of your palms pressing against the lip of the pool as you closed your eyes and luxuriated in the tangy scent of chlorine. So lost were you that you almost didn’t notice the door swinging open, but the clang of it shutting was unmistakable. Thinking it must’ve been a confused swim team member showing up to a practice that wasn’t happening, you opened your eyes, your lips parting to issue a reprimand that died before it could take shape.
It wasn’t a swim team member. It was Tabito Karasu, wearing a pair of swim trunks and nothing else, his jaw taut and his fists clenched as he inched towards the water. He hadn’t even noticed you, and you didn’t feel inclined to announce yourself, so you let your elbows dig into your thighs, your chin resting in your hands as you observed him.
You had known that he played soccer almost as long as you had known his name. It was the entire reason he was so popular and well-regarded in the school, and an inextricable part of his identity, but until now, you hadn’t quite considered what that actually meant. After all, you only ever saw him in the loose, modest clothing of the school’s uniform, so why would you jump to the conclusion that he was so — so — well, you were loath to admit it, but he had a striking body, and, now that he wasn’t being all cocky and maddening, you could appreciate that even his face was of a similar quality.
Blinking, you cocked your head as he extended a graceful foot towards the first stair leading into the shallow end. Water splashed against it, and he yanked it back like he had been scalded. You could not help yourself from giggling as he did this once and then twice again. On the third attempt, you forgot that the two of you weren’t acknowledging one another and cupped your hands around your mouth to amplify your voice.
“What are you doing?” you said.
“Who — Y/N? I didn’t realize anyone else was in here!” he said, stepping back from the pool and straightening his shorts, though there was nothing wrong with them that required straightening. You sprang to your feet and walked over to him, leaving wet footprints in your wake as you peered at him curiously.
“I was just going to do some laps to ensure that I’m at my best for the swimming unit next week. Did you have the same idea?” you said.
“Something like that,” he said.
“What’s with that whole ritual, though?” you said. “It’s not that cold. You should just get in.”
“Definitely not,” he said. You furrowed your brow.
“Okay,” you said. “Why are you at the pool, then, if you don’t want to go in the water?”
“It’s nothing you need to be concerned with!” he said. “Why are you so nosy? Just go away.”
“I was here first,” you said.
“Fine,” he said, spinning on his heel. “I’ll go, then.”
“Wait! Karasu, wait,” you said, grabbing onto his wrist as he made to leave. “Look, we don’t have to talk to one another or anything. We’re experienced enough at ignoring each other, so there’s not an issue in both of us being here.”
“Is that what you want?” he said.
“Yeah, sure,” you said. He swallowed hard, his throat bobbing, and you thought he would say something, but he only nodded curtly.
“Fine,” he said. You gave him an expectant look, but he did not move from the spot he was rooted in, so you thought that you might as well take the initiative. Looping around to the deep end, you inhaled and then dove into the water headfirst, staying under for as long as you could before finally surfacing and allowing yourself to settle into the familiar undulations that came with swimming.
After a few laps, you took a break, peeking up over the concrete to look at Karasu, who was still standing stubbornly in place, his nose wrinkling whenever he glanced at the pool.
“Hey,” you said. “Are you scared of the water or something?”
He froze. “Who told you that?”
“No one?” you said. “It’s pretty easy to tell as an onlooker. Were you planning on trying to get over your fear by coming to swim when no one was here? That’s dangerous if you don’t know how. You could drown.”
“I’m not scared of the water,” he said.
“Really? Then why’re you just standing there?” you said. His mouth opened and closed a few times, and then finally he hung his head in reluctant defeat.
“Whatever,” he said. Judging by the way he tensed immediately after the confession, he was expecting you to say something cruel, but you only boosted yourself out of the water and tapped him on the shoulder.
“I can help you, if you’d like,” you said. “I’m good at swimming.”
“Why would I want your help? And why would you even offer it in the first place? This is just one more subject you can beat me in, and that’s all you care about, so save it,” he said. “Congratulations, Y/N. You get to be number one this time.”
He looped a dry towel around his neck and left you standing alone, shivering and dripping pool water, a puddle forming around your feet as you gazed at the door he had vanished through.
The class rankings updated again after the swimming unit was over. You were in first place. Karasu didn’t even make it to the top ten. You wanted to celebrate the victory — it was the first time you had beaten him so thoroughly, after all — but for some reason, it didn’t really feel like something worth celebrating.
FOUR: STONE IT
School without Karasu was lonelier than you thought it would be. You hadn’t realized just how much you relied on him until he wasn’t there anymore. Without him, there wasn’t anyone you could exchange looks with across the room when somebody said something ridiculous in class. There wasn’t anyone who you could talk to in the minutes before the period began. There wasn’t anyone who made you push yourself to be better. What was the point of being first if Karasu wasn’t on your heels, ensuring that you stayed on the top for fear of losing to him? It was boring and lonely to try if he wasn’t doing the same.
You and he were still one and two, but it didn’t matter much anymore. The rankings were just numbers. They didn’t mean anything when Karasu still refused to even exchange pleasantries with you. Why would you want to compete when the other party didn’t share your interest? Now, if you managed to pull out ahead of him, it felt more like you had kicked a dog that was already down than if you had actually won anything. When he got first over you, it didn’t fuel your ambition any. You just wished he would come over and gloat instead of sitting there so solemnly, like none of it had ever mattered to him in the first place.
You couldn’t understand why he was so angry. What had you said that was so egregious? You hardly remembered the conversation you had had with him, it was that thoughtlessly done. You really hadn’t meant much if anything by it. One second, the two of you had been squabbling as you were prone to doing, and the next, he was so furious that he couldn’t bear to interact with you even still.
The day you were ambushed was nondescript. It was just like any other Wednesday, and you were walking back home from school when you were forced to stop in your tracks. A tall man — no, he was a boy, probably a year or two younger than you based on his soft and innocent expression — was barring your way, his arms outstretched and feet planted firmly in the ground to prove the depth of his conviction. He had pale hair and sky-colored eyes framed by the longest eyelashes you had ever seen on anyone, man or woman, with a small mouth pinched into an expression of discontent and lines like tire tracks between his eyebrows.
“Who are you?” you said warily, reaching for your phone, though you hardly knew who you would call. The setting was wrong for this to be a mugging, as it was sunny out and you were on a well-traveled street, but you didn’t really know what else to expect from the stranger, who could certainly outmuscle you if it came to it despite his lovely appearance.
“Yo Hiori,” he said. “I play on Bambi Osaka with Karasu. You’re Y/N L/N, correct?”
“Oh, one of the soccer guys?” you said. “Uh, hey. Yes, that’s me. Is something the matter? I’ve never seen you before. How do you even know who I am?”
“I’ve been watching Karasu for a while,” Hiori said with the utmost of seriousness, his hands dropping to his sides now that he was sure you weren’t going to run past him. “He’s a pretty fascinating person.”
“I’m sure,” you said, thinking to yourself that this Hiori kid was more than a little weird. Did Karasu know that he had acquired such a shadow? You supposed he must’ve. He had always been the observant type, so there was no way someone like Hiori would’ve escaped his keen notice.
“He’s been kind of down in the dumps recently, though. Even our coach noticed it. His playing hasn’t suffered too dramatically, but he’s the captain of the team, so he’s the guy everyone relies on for a funny pep talk or a word of advice when things are going south. Nowadays, however, when he’s off the field, he just sulks,” Hiori explained.
“I see,” you said. “That’s terrible.”
You meant it, too. Karasu without his asshole quips and ready jokes was a different person entirely. A person who you missed more than you could let on, even to yourself.
“It is,” Hiori said. “I took it upon myself to do some digging, and I’ve come to the conclusion that the reason is you.”
He was definitely a freak. You vowed to bring it up with Karasu, if he ever talked to you again. Even if he was already aware, it felt like a moral or civic duty of yours to ensure that he was fully informed about the extent that this child was inquiring into his life.
“What kind of, uh, digging do you mean?” you said, neatly avoiding the second thing he had said.
“It was pretty simple,” Hiori said. “One of the guys asked Karasu if he was acting off because he broke up with his girlfriend or something, and he got so mad that he left practice early. I opened up social media as soon as I got home and saw that you’re the only girl he follows, so by process of elimination, I figured the two of you were having some trouble in your relationship.”
“Relationship? I think you’re misunderstanding,” you said. “There’s no relationship. You could hardly even consider us friends.”
“Oh!” Hiori said. “I’m sorry. He’s mentioned you once or twice, so I just thought — and given what he said — and his reaction and all — no, I really am just sorry. It was wrong of me to make that assumption in the first place.”
“It’s alright,” you said. “I’m told it’s a relatively common misconception, so I can’t blame you. At least, it used to be. We haven’t really spoken in a while, so I guess everything thinks that it’s over, even though it never began in the first place.”
“You haven’t spoken in a while?” Hiori said. “Why not?”
“I think I said something that offended him, and we haven’t been on good terms since. Not that we ever really were in the first place,” you said.
“You did? He’s a pretty rational person, so it must’ve been something terrible for him to still be angry about it,” Hiori said.
“Maybe, but I don’t remember saying anything like that,” you said.
“What if you tell me how your last conversation went? Maybe I can help you,” he said.
“Sure, since you’re apparently the resident Karasu expert,” you said. “Wanna walk with me? I was heading home, but we can go to the convenience store and get some snacks or something instead. I don’t want to get in trouble for standing around in front of some random person’s house for too long.”
“Sounds good,” Hiori said. “There’s one a couple of minutes away, so we can head in that direction and keep talking as we go.”
“Great,” you said. “Okay, so the last time we talked…I think it was when Kenyu Yukimiya requested to follow me.”
“Who’s that?” Hiori said.
“He’s this model I met while I was shopping one day. Absolutely breathtaking,” you said. “Just really a stand-up guy. We’ve hung out a few times since then, he introduced me to the girlfriend I did not know he had, the works.“
“Yikes, unrequited love?” Hiori said with a wince.
“It was more of a celebrity crush. His girlfriend is super sweet, though, so I can’t complain. Anyways, I would consider them both casual acquaintances. The type you call to have a coffee with, but not the ones that help you move into a new apartment, you know?” you said.
“Uh, sure,” Hiori said in a tone which suggested he had no idea what you were talking about but was too scared to inquire further.
“Moving on, Yukimiya requested to follow me, and of course this was at the peak of my celebrity crush, so I started fawning over him, which prompted Karasu to take my phone and start insulting him,” you said.
“Interesting,” Hiori said.
“Then I called him ugly, and he called me ugly — that’s pretty standard for the two of us, so don’t look so shocked! After that, I said something about how I had expected him to be jealous of Yukimiya, since he didn’t have much going for him overall, so it made sense,” you said. “That’s when he left and things got weird.”
“Okay, I think I get it,” Hiori said. You waited for him to explain further. He smiled at you pleasantly.
“Right, so are you going to share with the class or am I meant to read your mind?” you said after a moment.
“I don’t want to give anything away that I shouldn’t,” he said. “But it’s a pretty simple issue to fix. Try thinking about what you said from his perspective.”
“He has a dumbass perspective. It’s impossible for me to think that way,” you said automatically.
“Do you think that he dislikes you?” Hiori said, taking two bottles of Yakult down from the shelf, handing one to you and keeping the other for himself.
“I’m not really sure how he feels about me, to tell you the truth,” you said.
“I don’t think he does,” Hiori said. “So, try thinking about someone you like and then imagine them saying to you what you said to them. Would you be inclined to be nice to them after that?”
“Well…” Your tongue was heavy and leaden in your mouth, and you ducked your head as you searched through your wallet for money. “No, not at all. I’d probably hate them for a really long time. Maybe forever.”
“That’s possible,” he said.
“Do you think he’ll hate me forever?” you said.
“Most likely not. Like I said earlier, he’s a rational person. I think that if you say sorry and sincerely mean it, he’ll forgive you. There’s a chance he won’t, though; you’ll have to listen to what he says and accept it,” Hiori said.
“But when? I hardly have the chance to see him in school. He just avoids me, and the building’s so big that it’s all but impossible to track him down!” you said.
“We have a soccer game in the evening today,” Hiori said. “I’m heading over there in a bit. Wanna come? You can talk to him once it’s over.”
“Am I allowed to?” you said.
“Why wouldn’t you be?” Hiori said. “If anyone says anything, just tell them I invited you. Here, I’ll give you the address and time now, and you can decide if you want to show up.”
“Okay,” you said, typing out his instructions in your notes app. “Thanks a lot for your help, Hiori.”
“Anytime!” he said. “Hope to see you at the game!”
“Even if I don’t go, I’d still like to meet you again. You’re a pretty cool kid,” you said, reaching up to ruffle his hair. “Kind of weird, if I’m being fully honest, but cool nonetheless. Karasu’s lucky to have a teammate like you.”
He grinned, and it was a tender, shy thing, as if he was earnestly seeking your praise or approval — like how a cat would bring a dead rat to its master or a child would show their parents a treasured drawing. “Thank you. Even if you don’t try to talk to Karasu…maybe you can still come anyways?”
“Alright, then,” you said. “Since you asked so nicely, I guess I have to. I’ll be there.”
FIVE: TAME IT
The sun was nearing the horizon, but it still had not officially begun to set by the time you settled in the bleachers on Bambi Osaka’s side. Besides a couple of women your mother’s age and an elderly man who must’ve been someone’s grandfather, there weren’t any other spectators. Hiori had mentioned that this wasn’t a particularly serious game, as they didn’t even need to beat the team to make it to Nationals, so it was more like a friendly exhibition game than anything — hence the low turnout.
“Hello, dear,” a woman said when she noticed you sitting by yourself. “Are you friends with one of the players?”
“Yes. Um, Tabito Karasu? I’m his classmate,” you said. Technically, you were there on Hiori’s goodwill, not Karasu’s, but for you to not mention Karasu would be like a betrayal. You weren’t sure if it was him or yourself that you’d be betraying, but either way you did not want to chance it.
“You’re one of Karasu’s friends? Lucky you, then,” she said. “He’s a delightful boy, or so I’ve heard. This is my son’s first year on the team, and he was really nervous to join such a prestigious organization, but ever since his first day, all he can talk about is how amazing his captain is. Karasu’s tough on all of the players, but he really works hard to make all of them feel welcomed, too.”
Bambi Osaka’s team took the field, and you smiled when you saw Karasu in the front, his name across the back of his jersey, a pair of black gloves covering his large hands, an insolent leer on his face as he greeted the other team’s captain. He had not noticed you yet, and you were not sure if this was for the better or worse, because you wanted him to see you, but you didn’t want him to be distracted and play poorly as a result.
“He’s a wonderful person,” you agreed. “He’s the only one in the entire school who can keep up with me, academically or otherwise. I didn’t realize until recently how much I admire him for that.”
The woman’s eyes crinkled around the corners with the ease that came from a lifetime of happiness. For some reason, you thought that she knew something you did not, or could not, but it wasn’t uncomfortable that she did. It seemed to you that being left in the dark was just your lot this time around, and you found that oddly enough, it felt acceptable.
“Is this your first time coming to watch him?” she said.
“Yes, it is,” you said.
“You know, he has this habit before every match of scanning the stands, like he’s looking for someone. I thought it might be his parents, but at the last match, just about his entire family showed up, and he still seemed disappointed,” she said.
“That’s a shame,” you said noncommittally, not sure what else you should say. The woman shrugged.
“Well, I wonder what it’ll be like today,” she said. “There he goes.”
True to her words, Karasu was craning his neck towards the Bambi Osaka side, his eyes darting from person to person until they settled on you. You raised your hand hesitantly, waving at him, knowing that he probably wouldn’t reciprocate.
He turned away almost immediately, but not before you saw him fight back a smile — not the smug type he generally donned, but one you had only ever seen on him once or twice. It was one that made him seem charming and boyish and sweet, that made you want to take back every negative word you had ever said about him. Only now could you understand that it showed who he really was, that at his heart Karasu was that kind of person, not anything like the facade you were so accustomed to, which he showed you for the sole reason that it was what you unconsciously demanded of him.
You had judged him to be horrible, and so he became the bane of your existence. You had told him he was good for nothing, so he disappeared like he really was just that. Everything you said, Karasu went along with gamely, and you wished you could’ve known that earlier, so you would’ve spent less time hating him and more time comprehending these intricacies, which entranced you in the way a spider’s web entranced a butterfly.
“Looks like I don’t need to worry about that child any more,” the woman said as the referee blew the whistle to signal the start of the game.
“Pardon?” you said. “Were you talking to me?”
“No, no,” she said, shaking her head. “I was just musing to myself. Ignore me. Let’s watch the game; I have a feeling that some of our players are going to go all out today.”
Bambi Osaka completely annihilated the other team. Maybe the match didn’t matter, but none of them played that way; instead, they were aggressive and focused, with Karasu at the forefront of every goal they made, commending his teammates and deriding his opposition in the same breath.
That was something you had not expected — he had a massively foul mouth when he played soccer. You had thought that he was rude when he spoke to you, but the things you overheard from him whenever he ran by within earshot made your conversations seem tame. You couldn’t help but pity the poor defenders that he shoved past and spat barbed-wire abuse at.
He was merciless and beautiful and you could probably spend a dozen more hours watching him play without even a trace of boredom, but by the time the sky had turned gold and the sun had dipped towards the ground, the game was over and the members of Bambi Osaka were packing up their things to leave for the night after yet another landslide win.
You snuck onto the field once you were extremely assured that nobody would be upset with you for it, making your way over to where Karasu was chugging a bottle of water.
“Hi,” you said when he was finished, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and tossing the now-empty bottle into his bag. “You played really well.”
“Thanks,” he said. There was impatience but also longing in his voice, like he wanted you to say something so badly but he knew you would not, would never, and so he would rather get the conversation over with and move on with the business of his life than stick around and waste time with you.
“I’m sorry,” you said.
“What?” he said.
“I’m sorry,” you said. “Karasu, I’m really sorry. I don’t think that you have nothing going for you. I don’t know why I said that. Well, I do, it’s because I wanted to have the last word like I always do, but I don’t mind if I don’t have it this time. Or any other time. Or ever again.”
“What?” he repeated, as though he had been rendered dumb by your confession.
“I miss you,” you admitted. “I didn’t believe I could, but apparently, I can, and I do. A lot. I know that I’m unpleasant and disparaging and haughty when it comes to you, but I won’t be that way anymore if you forgive me for my vices one last time. If it means you’ll talk to me, I’ll be a fool. I’ll be in second place. I’ll be an idiot. But please, please forgive me.”
He took a deep breath. You handed him the bottle of kombucha that you had bought on your way to the game because you saw him drink it so frequently that you figured he must like it. He accepted it gingerly, holding it with the delicacy of a newborn, unscrewing the lid and sipping on it pensively.
“Alright,” he said.
“Alright?” you said.
“I’ll forgive you,” he said. “But on one condition.”
“Anything,” you said.
“You better not do anything as dumb as trying to be mediocre on purpose because you think it’ll make me feel better. What the hell is that proposition, huh? It’ll make me feel worse if anything! I like you because you’re unpleasant and disparaging and haughty and whatever else you said, not in spite of those qualities. I’m sure you heard me while I was playing…anyone who isn’t you would probably be terrified of me when I’m like that,” he said. “Just, y’know, I’m a person with feelings, too, so keep that in mind if you can. Oh, and don’t wait so long to say sorry next time, because it’s seriously annoying for me to feel all out-of-sorts for ages!” he said.
“That’s it?” you said.
“That’s it,” he said. “Hug?”
Ordinarily, you would’ve said no, but you were so weepy at the reconciliation that you nodded and let him embrace you, his arms caging you against his chest, holding you to him so that you could not escape.
“Ew!” you shouted when you registered what he was trying to do, shoving him off of you as he cackled and released you without much of a fight. “Gross, Karasu, you’re disgusting! Get away from me! I can’t believe you did that!”
“I can’t believe you fell for it!” he said as you frantically tried to wipe yourself off, though it was largely in vain. In your emotional state, you had forgotten that he was still drenched with sweat from the game, and you were now reaping the consequences of your poor decision making.
“You’re a bad person,” you said.
“Yeah, yeah,” he said. “Whatever you say.”
“I probably deserved that one, though, so I won’t hold it against you,” you said.
“Smart decision,” he said. “Wait. Unrelated, but whatever ended up happening between you and that model dude? What was his name again?”
“Yukimiya? He has a girlfriend,” you said. “Oh, well. What can you do, right? I’m not upset about it. Besides, everyone and their mother thinks I have a boyfriend already, so it’s probably for the best that it worked out like this. I wouldn’t want his modeling career to be ruined by home-wrecking allegations or anything.”
“It must be a pretty serious not-relationship you’ve got there, if it’s the career-ending type,” he said.
“I’d say it’s pretty serious, yes,” you said. “He’s an awesome guy. You’d like him.”
“I’ll respect it, then,” he said. “But…if you ever find yourself not-breaking up with him, then, uh, let me know. I’ll take you on a date somewhere. We can argue and reminisce about the day we met over dinner or something. It’ll be super romantic.”
He said it casually, but you were more familiar with him than either of you ever could’ve predicted you’d be. He was secretly nervous about how big of a risk he had taken, fiddling with the zipper of his soccer bag, avoiding your eyes while he waited for your response. You let the silence stretch on for a minute, just to make him squirm, and then you poked him in the ribs.
“Karasu,” you said.
“What’s up?” he said, and he must’ve been trying very hard to keep his cool, but his anxiety transmitted through the endearing crack of his voice.
“I have to tell you something,” you said.
“Go ahead,” he said.
“I’m not-single now,” you said. “So. Will you take me on a date this weekend?”
He lit up, so bright that you were all but blinded by the brilliance of his joy. Then he cleared his throat and pretended to check the non-existent watch on his wrist.
“You’re in luck,” he said. “That works for me. I’ll pick you up on Saturday for dinner.”
“Great,” you said. “I look forward to it.”
“Hold on, don’t go just yet,” he said. You paused, about to ask him what else he needed when he stooped over and pressed his lips to your cheek. “Thanks for coming to my game. I’m not really sure how you knew I was playing, but I’m glad you could make it either way.”
“Um — uh — Hiori told me, he told me you were playing, and, er, where to go and what time and all,” you stammered, trying to wrap your head around what had just happened, replaying it in your mind over and over.
“Hiori? I should’ve known he’d be the type to meddle like that,” he said. “I’m not even going to ask how you know each other. The answer will probably make me feel vaguely discomfited, so I’ll abide by an ‘ignorance is bliss’ policy.”
“That’s probably for the best,” you said, composing yourself, though internally, you were imagining what it would be like if you had turned your head, if instead of your cheek his lips had landed somewhere else. “Okay, I should go now. See you on Saturday?”
“One last thing. You’re pretty transparent, you know,” he said, grasping your chin in his left hand and leaning in. Your eyelashes fluttered shut as he grew closer and closer, but right when his mouth was a hair’s breadth from yourself, he chuckled. “Also, pretty gullible.”
Instead of kissing you like you had anticipated he would, he tackled you in another hug. You squealed in protest, but he held fast, his body rumbling with laughter as you simultaneously struggled to escape and clung onto him as tightly as you could.
“I hate you,” you said when your half-hearted efforts proved to be entirely futile.
“Sure you do,” he said.
“You’re the worst,” you said.
“Absolutely,” he said.
“I’m being serious here. You smell!” you said.
“Well, that’s plain rude of you to say,” he said, messing up your hair in what you were sure he deemed to be a punishment, as if being crushed against his sweaty form wasn’t punishment enough.
“Let go of me, you idiot crow!” you said.
“No can do,” he said. “Crows are clingy birds, you know. Even the idiotic ones. Ask me again in twenty years and maybe we can revisit the issue.”
“Karasu!”
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yorsgirl · 7 months ago
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Love is a Curse
Trope: Angst
Warnings: none
Word Count: 818
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He is perfect.
Fingers threads through your hair, abruptly stopping when you question: would you be sad if I die?
His eyebrows knit together, he stares at you with confusion - you aren't dying.
You want to smile, if I do?
I won't let you.
He is a man of few words, it's often not he expresses himself but when he does, your chest rumbles with an emotion you certainly know about.
I am never letting you go. You're stuck with me forever.
You know he's right. You truly are stuck with him forever.
.
He is like dopamine.
Touches aren't what you expected them to be. You know the touch even with his presence or absence.
They belong to you after all.
It's his name you chant, his name you say. Whether they be alone or in middle of a crowd. Your mind screams his name, always. The fantasies you stage revolves around him, always.
Everything he does leaves you wanting more.
You tell him this one very night, lying in your bed. He listens, he knows. He is there every night, every time, every second. He knows.
But he doesn't answer.
You close your eyes, then you hear him say.
So do I, for you.
.
Distraction doesn't work.
You try to. You really do.
You try using apps, moving to your people, your friends, your teachers, your family. They don't help at all. And you are down the rabid hole again.
Then you are running to him.
He scolds you, still taking you back with open arms. Chiding you for even trying to believe what they said.
Arms wrapped tight against your body, you cry silent tears hearing words so endearing. You don't deserve this.
He knows what you are thinking. You deserve everything, my love. The stars, the moon, the sun, the world... I will give you what you want. I am yours.
Why does he do this? Doesn't he know it has you falling for more?
He is cruel.
.
It's on days you want to comfort him.
You see him again. You read him again. As always.
There is a smile on your face and your chest is rumbling with that emotion again. You almost can't stop your squeal.
But then you see him in despair, in pain.
And it hurts you seeing him hurt. Emotional or physical, it doesn't matter. It hurts seeing him hurt.
You want to reach out and comfort him. But you can't.
.
Everyone tells you, you shouldn't be this devoted.
You can only answer that you can't.
Your devotion can never measure up to his. His affection, his tenderness, his devotion... his love. They are immeasurable for you.
But he is consumed with darkness. They say.
They fail to understand that you love his darkness as much as his light. For in your darkness, only he sits with you. Only he knows about it.
The parts they see as ugly and unlovable, are the very parts he said he loves the most about you when you said it to him.
Plugging the earphones on, you hear his voice again on the other end.
Did you forget me, pretty? You aren't calling lately, or did you find someone else? Nah, can't be. You have to get rid of me before that.
And getting rid of me isn't that easy.
You hate how he knows so much about you.
.
The men around you are... nice.
And it's just that. They are nice.
Some of them better than the other, some worse. And you know, you can live with one of them, one day.
But it feels wrong.
Thinking about other guys feels wrong.
Its foolish of you to even think you can ever replace him with one of them. Even when the touch of another on your skin repulses you.
And at the end of the day, its just that - they are nice.
Then you question:
Can they ever understand you like him? Can they ever know you like him? Can they ever accept all the darkness about you like him? Can you ever love you like him? Can they ever be him?
The answer is clear.
Hence, you are running back to him. He accepts you with open arms.
He is your home, regardless of what he does.
He tells you that, It is fine. I will never let you go, pretty. You are mine.
And that's what you want to be. His.
.
You open your eyes.
You see the ceiling, you are in your room.
Love is a curse. It has you falling for him in every way possible. And it's him, that you want. You wonder if you'll get over him.
You want to laugh. Who are you kidding? It's been years.
You smile, a single tear rolls down your eyes. The realization hits you again, like every other day.
You love him. You want him. But you can't.
You exist. He doesn't.
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Characters: Levi Ackerman, Sukuna Ryomen, Gojo Satoru, Kageyama Tobio, Shoto Todoroki, Bakugo Katsuki, Son Hak, Loid Forger.
A/N: uhm, this is very close to me and the characters mentioned are just my faves with whom fantasize the most, you can imagine your other fav in place of them too
+
Thank you for reading.
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coff33andb00ks · 4 months ago
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3am - LN & OP
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lando norris x oscar piastri
summary: look at the stars, look how they shine for you warnings: angst, pining, not proofread songs: yellow and fix you by coldplay coldplay is landoscar coded wordcount: 1.3k a.n.: writing this in the hopes landoscar get out of my brain… shout out to the four moots that encouraged this. also not tagging anyone because it's 2:30am and I'm exhausted.
He can't sleep. It isn't unusual, his insomnia tend to rear its ugly head when he least needs it. He only wishes he could prepare in advance, that it was a cycle that he could predict and plan for, like his sisters with their apps that are set to warn the entire family when their PMS is approaching.
Dragging a hand over his face, he glares at the ceiling. Great. Now he's thinking about his sisters' cycles.
There's nothing for it but to just get up. No use fighting it and tossing and turning, that only leads to—
A husky moan. Teeth sinking into the lip he'd just sucked. Jaw carved from the gods' finest marble clenching.
"Lan…"
Cinnamon and mint.
Dreams that will never come true.
He presses his hands to his face, hunching over on the side of the bed. The hotel room is too small, too warm, too—
Lonely.
"Fuck this," he hisses, on his feet and snatching up his hoodie.
Torture. He willingly submits to it, knowing it will only leave him feeling hollow and alone when he returns to his room. But it's all he has. All he can cling to on a night like this, when the voices and thoughts won't stop, when the butterflies and bees are swarming inside him.
When the doubts and the worries rise over the shoddy façade of outgoing and joyful, there's only one thing that can quell them.
One person.
He's pinned his hopes all on someone who can never fully know the truth. The one person who understands him best, who knows him better than he does himself, whose name he proudly wears on his wrist.
The last person he wants to lie to, but shields the truth from.
The truth. The tiny, glowing ember of good sentiment that has somehow been crafted among the ruins of his fractured existence. He holds it closer to his heart than his very soul, fearful of it dying if revealed to a cruel world. Or, worse, an uninterested recipient.
He stares at the door. It's – he pulls his cracked phone from his pocket – almost three in the morning. Horrible friend, waking him this time of night.
A muffled sound. A footstep or a chair sliding under a table. His rounded shoulders straighten, his lowered head lifts.
He knocks. Just twice, like he always does when it's just him. If someone was with him it would be incessant. Knockknockknockknockknockknockknock— fucking hell, what?!
The door opens and he breathes in shampoo and lingering steam.
The universe hates him sometimes.
"Lando?"
One day, the sound of his name in that voice won't make his heart do that weird flippy thing. One day, it won't make his lip quirk up into a half smile. One day, he won't sigh.
Not today. Not tonight.
"Osco."
Osco. Osc. Os. Oscar looks at him with that confused pinched brow that immediately relaxes.
What's it like, to really be seen?
Heartbreaking.
Oscar steps back without a word and weak legs carry him into the mirror of his room. The bed is messy and it makes his stomach clench.
Dreams.
"Sor—"
He quiets with a look. He ducks his head, picking at his fingers. He wants to apologize again, for apologizing to begin with, and he wants to apologize once more for always needing to apologize, for being such a fucking mess that he is standing here in Oscar's hotel room at 3am instead of sleeping peacefully in his own.
"Tell me about it?"
Not what's wrong. Not why are you here. Never leave me alone.
Always tell me about it. Share your worries, lean on me, I'm your friend and your teammate, you're not doing this alone.
"I don't…" Wanna talk about it. Just let me stand here. Bask in the calming glow of your star until I can pretend to be a human again. "I don't… Why are you up?"
Oscar shrugs. His smile is faint. "Had a feeling."
"Oh." Oh. Because he hears the unspoken words, feels the unspoken sentiment.
Had a feeling you'd need me, so I waited up for you.
He wants to cry because no one else cares enough to wait up for him.
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"Oh."
His face looks haunted, his eyes like they may produce tears at any second.
Heart in his throat, he sits on the bed. He knows better than to prod, knows all too well that the golden man standing by his suitcase will snarl and bite when provoked. So he waits.
Watching.
He's tense, his deceptively lean frame giving off waves of stress and worry and—
"Can't sleep," Lando whispers.
Exhaustion.
He nods, even though Lando isn't looking at him. Except he is, he can see his reflection in the mirror. Stormy green eyes are watching him, as though he holds all the answers to the world's problems.
Or, if not the world's, Lando's.
Same thing.
"I'm worried about tomorrow." A humorless, breathy exhalation that passes for a chuckle. "Today."
He's been worried since Austria. His insecurities are rising after simmering since Miami when the world's stage witnessed his greatness.
If I don't keep winning how can I prove I'm worthy?
If I don't glow for the world how can anyone love me?
"I hate Silverstone," he breathes.
Not the PR lie, about how special his home track is, the memories he has of it as a child, how the crowd gives him an indescribable energy. He hates it for the expectation. It's his home race so he has to perform well. His car has to be the fastest, the strats have to be impeccable, because he can't let the people that believe in him down.
Worse, he can't let himself down, as he's been doing for two months.
Oscar's heart splinters. No one will ever be as hard on Lando as Lando. No one takes on the blame for an entire team, an entire grid, like the man turning and sinking onto the bed.
Not the golden man the fans and media see, but the shy boy Oscar knows better than he knows himself. The perfectly imperfect extroverted introvert with a heart as pure as the twinkling stars in a night sky. The favorite child still terrified of disappointing his parents, the favorite brother that cries when has to miss an important milestone.
There's a space between them and before the billions of reasons he shouldn't come to mind Oscar closes it. The stars are there, twinkling still, shielded behind a cloud. Their arms touch and he wishes he could exhale and send the clouds away. He can't though, so he sits and waits, umbrella at the ready, an open ear and a sturdy shoulder.
It's a small percentage of what he's willing to give.
It's all that's wanted.
"Tell me I'm stupid."
"You're not stupid."
His shoulder's round and he's staring at his hands. Picking at his fingers. Knee bouncing.
Pure frenetic energy.
Oscar watches the knee and the fingers. Sees his own hand reach out.
Cool fingers, warm hand. Pale over gold.
Chins lift, heads swivel.
Mint eyes. Worry and heartbreak spill over and his own name is a whispered prayer.
Osco.
"You're not stupid," he says. The floodgate opens. "You don't have to believe that. I'll believe it for you until you're ready. I'll believe in you when you can't. I'll stay up 'til 3 so you can rest. And I'll provide the words you pretend to not remember."
That you started doing to make me feel needed. It worked. And now I know you do need me but more importantly I need you.
Golden fingers spread, slotting between his.
The clouds thin and the stars shine brighter than ever.
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lot-of-nothing · 7 months ago
Text
Entwined (Ch. 3)
Melissa Schemmenti x Reader
You finally blow up on Melissa.
Warnings: Toxic Melissa, smut, and very veiled internalized homophobia
Author's Note: Okay so walking into this I had an entirely different idea, and then the fic just wrote itself. Thank you soooo much to @alexusonfire for betaing this <3
Ch. 1 | Ch. 2
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While it had been weeks since you last spoke to or texted Melissa, she had been trying to contact you for weeks. You had received ‘come over’ texts, nudes, and lewd messages from the redhead - all of which drove you crazy. Sometimes you would find yourself staring at the past pictures she had sent, craving her. 
This craving felt immoral, especially now that you had been casually seeing someone you met online. 
Ericka had just about everything you were searching for in a partner - especially the way she responded to your texts and happily went on dates with you without you having to beg. She was kind and you were sure you both shared some interests (although you didn’t know what they were). You knew the bar was incredibly low for this stranger you met through a dating app, but you kept telling yourself anything was better than your dating life prior. 
--
Ericka stared across the table at you with her head resting in her hands, listening tentatively to your turn in the game you were playing. She always looked at you with a kindness that made you nervous. Her finger danced across the tabletop as she spoke softly, “Can we order dinner?”
Pulling your phone from your pocket, you opened the folder containing all of the apps for different restaurants and food delivery. You handed over your phone, your hand grazing hers made your cheeks flush. “Yeah. Take a look at what’s available and we can order something. I’m gonna go to the bathroom.”
When you emerged from the bathroom, you would have never expected for Ericka to have her coat on with her purse hanging off her shoulder. She held out your phone to you with a dejected look in her eyes that made your heart sink, “Is this the same Melissa you used to see?”
“What?” You ask, chewing the inside of your lip and taking the phone from her hands. Your eyes examined the open text chain between Melissa and you with a new picture you hadn’t seen that had been sent mere minutes ago - a picture featuring the bottom half of Mel’s face and her open blouse with her breasts pulled from her bra. It was mesmerizing, but you tore your eyes away to make yourself seem like less of a terrible person. 
Ericka’s jaw was tight as she spoke, “She texted you.”
“Ericka-”
“No. It’s really okay. It’s better that I know you aren’t emotionally available now than later on when it hurts more.” She cut you off and gave you a pained look that cracked your heart in two. While you hadn’t grown extremely attached to Ericka, she was incredibly kind to you and you never wanted to hurt her in all of this. 
Her tone alone told you that none of this was open for discussion or explanation, but you tried anyway. “It isn’t like that.”
“Then what is it like?” Ericka gave you a few moments to reply, but when you couldn’t formulate an answer she gave a saddened nod. She left you in silence as she walked towards the door, only pausing when she had one hand on the door handle. “That’s what I thought… Have a good night. I hope you find what you are looking for.”
--
After everything happened with Ericka, you were feeling horrible about your inability to fully cut Melissa off. If you are unable to do that, how would you ever move on? Tears pooled in your eyes and you wiped them away with your sleeves. You didn’t feel you had the right to cry after what you did. And to make matters worse a knock came on your front door. 
You pulled open your front door with reddened eyes and you couldn’t believe that Melissa was standing on your front step. The redhead pushed past you with a huff, entering your home without giving you a sideways glance, “I thought she would never leave.”
“What are you talking about?” Your jaw tightened at the prospect that Melissa could have something to do with your date with Ericka going so poorly.
Mel stolled deeper into your home, dropping her purse onto a chair and perching herself on the arm of the same chair. She rolled her eyes as she described how she found herself outside of your home a half hour ago. “Well I drove over here to see why you weren’t respondin’ to any of my messages when I saw Ms. Sunshine pull up.”
“And that’s why you conveniently sent a picture while she was here?” It wasn’t hard to tell from your tone that you were becoming increasingly infuriated. 
“Well I thought it would bring you to your senses. I didn’t plan on her seein’ it.” Melissa flipped her hair over her shoulder nonchalantly. You couldn’t believe how unaffected she seemed by ruining this night for you. How could a person be so cold?
Her confidence made heat rise to your cheeks. You couldn’t remember a time when you were so infuriated by another human. You clenched and unclenched your fists, snarling at the redhead, “So I had a real shot at a real relationship and you couldn’t let me have that? I thought this was just casual, hm?”
Melissa looked down at the floor, speaking with a wavering confidence, “It is.”
“This? This is casual? Casual, Melissa? This has been going on for years! You keep me like a little puppet on a string, but are you ever going to give me a chance? NO! Because you keep telling yourself you aren’t even the least bit gay.” You shifted quickly into shouting, unable to contain yourself any longer. 
Melissa opened her mouth to respond, but you cut her off before the words could fall off her tongue. “DID YOU EVER THINK OF WHAT THAT DOES TO ME? WHAT YOU DO TO ME? You drive me fucking crazy! I had a woman here! A woman who wanted to fucking date me, but you knew how to fuck that up for me so you could be the only one, huh?”
Melissa moved off the chair and placed her hands on her hips, staring up at you in an act of defiance, “Don’t act like you are such a victim. I never forced you to be so goddamn desperate.”
You knew she was trying to intimate you, but you weren’t about to cave for this woman quite so soon, “Desperate? I’m desperate? Says you that sent me so many messages and pictures detailing how badly you needed to be fucked.”
Melissa paused, trying to find her next argument, but it had momentarily escaped her, “I-I-”
“Go upstairs.”
“What?” The redhead’s eyes opened wider, but her mouth still formed a scowl. 
“Go upstairs. I’m going to fuck you.”
You weren’t even sure how Melissa was feeling after you told her to get on her hands and knees. Usually you loved watching her face and breasts as you fucked her with the strap, but now you only wanted to get your anger out. 
With one hand you clutched her beautiful red locks, and used the leverage to pull her backward mercilessly onto the dildo. The other hand gripped her waist - undoubtedly leaving fingertip-shaped bruises on her skin.
Melissa’s jaw hung slack, tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, but she continued to will them away to not show you any weakness. She barely made any noise, however. The redhead had two orgasms which caused her senses to go fuzzy - a sensation she was growing to love. “M-more.”
“More? You think you’re in a position where you can ask for more?” Your voice was a low growl that sent shivers down Melissa’s spine. With a tug of her hair, you pull her backwards so she sat up higher on her knees. The redhead sucked in a breath from the pain, and instinctively you wrapped your spare arm around her waist to pull her down into your lap. 
The feeling of Melissa’s body pressed to yours had you feeling crazy. Slowly you released her hair, and slid your hand to her face, brushing the backs of your fingers across her cheek. Melissa was breathing heavily and subconsciously grinding down onto the strap. Your gentility ended after your thumb glided over her jawline and you dropped your hand to her throat, grasping firm enough to make her whine.
Your voice was merely a whisper as you began slowly rocking tantalizingly slow up into Mel, “You are an evil woman. Consumed by your own selfish pleasures…” 
The pretty redhead let out a meek whine.
Your hand remained steady on her neck while the other trailed down her abdomen, fingers slipping between her folds with ease. While the strap barely moved in and out, you were teasing her sore clit as you listed off Melissa’s sins, “You don’t think I remember all of the things you have done? All of the boyfriends you cheated on with me… Coming to my apartment the night before you and Joe got married… You were broken up with Gary only for a couple hours before you had me in your bed…”
Melissa huffed in frustration and wriggled in your grasp, failing to find the words to argue. Only if you could have seen the way her cheeks flushed pink with embarrassment - those were all memories she pushed deep down. 
“And you’re right. I am no victim. I let you do whatever you want because you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.” You put a period on your sentence by catching her ear lobe between your teeth. Even while you wanted to punish Melissa and take all of your anger out on her, you avoided the hoop of her earring as you would never want to cause any real harm.
Flattery was truly the way to Mel’s heart no matter what she would say. Her groan in response was guttural and conveyed a desperation that was incredibly satisfying. She then began rutting against your hand, crying your name over and over again. 
“I wish I could hate you.”
And with those cold words, Melissa came hard enough that she doubled over out of your grasp. She buried her face into the sheets to hide the tears that involuntarily fell from her eyes. 
Once Melissa had recovered from her orgasm and moved off the strap, you slid off the bed. With your back turned to the redhead, you removed the strap in exchange for sweatpants. You refused to look at Mel when you spoke, “You need to go.”
“What?” She whipped her head around. Her brows were furrowed, and if you would have turned around, you would have seen the hurt in her eyes. 
“Leave. I can’t get over you if you are still here.” You cleared your throat uncomfortably as you pulled a shirt over your head. You weren’t sure if you wanted to cry or wretch - regardless you were in pain with the line you drew in the sand for Melissa.
Melissa’s voice was soft… softer than you had ever known, “Hon…” 
“Have mercy, Melissa.” 
Four Months Later
The bartender placed a drink on the bar before you, earning them a furrowed brow and questioning glance. They gave a toothy grin in response and pointed down the bar to your left, “It's from the redhead.”
Your stomach sank at the prospect, and the bartender noticed how your features drooped. With a sympathetic glance, they let you be with your thoughts. 
Melissa. It had to be her. 
You stared down at the wood grain of the bar, debating if you even wanted to open the wounds that were barely healed as it was. Even a glance felt like too much for you now. You weren’t ready for this after everything ended so terribly.
But it didn’t seem like Melissa was giving you much of a choice as her plump hand crept from your shoulder blade to your shoulder, “Long time no see.”
Link to Chapter 4
Taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta, @unicorniusfallapatorius, @sapphicxrat, @earpivore
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thecynthh · 7 months ago
Text
end game - M.S
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synopsis - through matt and y/n’s life both of them never thought they would be hooking up, but what happens when everyone finds out about them and it blows up in their face.
2.6k words
notes - IM NOT HATING ON MADI I JUST NEEDED SOMEONE TO USE FOR STORY PURPOSES. (im her biggest fan dont cancel me)
(synopsis for a new series that i’m working on is featured)
this is for @annamcdonalds67 contest!! i saw the post and saw how many taylor swift songs were there and this was one of my favourite ones out there and i got insanely inspired. please share some love to anna as well bc she deserves it for organizing this !
warnings - smut->angst, small matt sub, riding, oral (fem receiving), childhood best friends to fwb to lovers, badboy!matt x goodgirl!reader
for lacysturniolo and her amazing work and dedication to her fans, i’ll look up to you, forever and always
-
matt barely made it through the door before his arms were strangling me in a death inducing kiss. in my whole 17, almost 18, years of life i never expected in my life did i think my childhood best friend would be the one crushing me with his lips. we’ve both dated around but through it all we ended up here.
“fuck, matt” the breathy name escapes from my mouth feeling him move down to my neck leaving stinging hickeys with his talented mouth. “god im glad your parents aren’t here, don’t think my good kid image would keep up if they heard you.”
“you’re so inappropriate matt” my eyes roll listening to him rub in how much my parents love matt. “come on, i don’t like the idea of you fucking me on any other surface than in my room especially in my parents house.”
“whatever you say princess,” the small smirk he’s always had since he was 12 still looms over me as i lead him towards the grand staircase. he followed very close behind me keeping his arms and mouth on my neck.
it doesn’t take long till he’s holding my arms above my head with his fingers intertwined with mine. “matt, fuck, please can you just fuck me now.”
“you don’t get to be impatient, you called.”
“and you came.”
“you are about to as well.” i wanted to wipe that smirk clean off his face if his body didn’t feel so right pressed up against mine.
we haven’t told anyone about us yet, not even nick or chris. we both knew it would only make things worse, and i was alright with keeping it a secret. i’ve spent enough of my closeted and innocent. I'm a teenager, teens are supposed to do this type of thing. teens may hook up but maybe not with their childhood best friends
his mouth trailed down from my neck, to my sternum, all the down to between my thighs before he yanked my legs down to come closer to the edge of the bed.
3RD PERSON POV
matt’s hands never seem to have left y/n's body, exploring every last inch of her body. her arms, legs and heart were his. matt spends no time wasted connecting his lips to her clothed heat, within seconds she’s shimming her pants and underwear off.
there was a small knock on the door with an awaiting friend, madi was there to meet up with y/n to pick up the homework she had missed that day. without an answer from the door, madi looks around the house through windows and cracks in the blinds.
only seeing a light shown through from the living room, she wanders off to the balcony and fire escape on the side of the house. it was only a flight of stairs and a half till madi was on par with the balcony, it was a short climb till she was onto the balcony. the only thing blocking madi and the couple was a transparent creme coloured cloth with embroidered rose accents.
y/n’s loud moans escaped flooding her bedroom, escaped through the window. the curtains sway giving madi an opening to see matt fully down on her friend and her enjoying it. madi’s mouth gapes open as ashe slides her phone out of her pocket.
the camera app opens quickly as she swipes to record.
the small blip of her phone pipes up as she capturns the full scene on camera, the summer sunset gave a yellow glow to the recording. matt rips off his shirt with one arm dipping right back to y/n’s core.
madi’s only thought was to share it to her best friend, nick. little did she know nick wasn’t the only one she sent it to, but her homework group. madi continued to record through the small slit of the window.
science 4 group
madi 🩷
* view one attachment *
HOLY SHIT LOOK MATT AT Y/N’S HOUSE!!!!
Y/N’S POV
“matt, matt, matt” the release came to me in an instant. “come on baby girl, you did so well. you ready?” the sound of his belt come undone only made me hotter. before another word could be exchanged i grab his shoulder pulling him down to the bed rolling on top of him.
“i’ll ride you till your dick is limp and your begging me to stop.” matt’s reaction only made me feel even more aroused. “anything for you baby,” matt said copying my tone of voice.
stationing my legs on either side of his i bend down to kiss him, pressing my pebbled nipples onto his bare skin, slowly grinding down onto his raging hard on.
his whines only intensify the burning seer of his skin touching mine. my hand follows in suit with my hips feeling every last vein of his dick through his boxers. “a-ah!” matt whines due to me pressing my finger into his slit.
pushing his boxers down his dick springs out slapping against his happy trail. “please please please y/n please.”
“please what, pretty boy?” i mock feeling the surge of power flow through me.
“please fuck me,” he whimpered out. for such a bad boy exterior, he sure doesn’t act like it now.
without waiting another second for him to say something else i sink down onto his throbbing dick feeling him fill me up so well. “mhhm, matty you feel so good.”
“ugh, only for you b-baby.” matt’s barely keeping it together, while i bounce up and down on his cock. speeding up every second. i begin to grind onto his pelvis as i slam down onto him with his body slightly grazing my clit in the best way possible.
“matty, im a-about to c-cum. do it with me.” his hands sneak onto my love handles as i lean up against him again, he attaches his mouth to my nipple that was dangling in front of him. his hips snap up and down, pushing insanely deep inside me. “m-matt!” a loud pornographic moan comes out of my mouth feeling the knot in my stomach break, feeling a huge relief. he follows soon after letting out a guttural grunt.
i roll down beside him, both of our deep breaths fill the room. “fuck, oh my god.” i breathed out, heaving my chest. i turn to face him, putting my hand against his chest and my head onto the arm that was stretched out near me. my curtains move and sway with the blow of my fan as i see a shadow fall off of my window, it must've just been an animal.
“i don’t think i can walk,” i confess feeling him look over to me. my hand travels to feel his scruff that he’s been growing out the past few weeks, it’s never gotten that long but it’s still very apparent. “hmm, lemme take care of you okay? we can even get mcdonald’s, im fine driving out to the further one if you're scared of people to see us.” he combs his hand through my hair, tugging a little relieving some heat and pressure my head has collected.
he pushes himself up and goes to the bathroom, turning on the shower and coming back to retrieve me.
-
this whole day it felt like people were staring at me left and right, i haven’t even been in the building for more than 20 minutes and i’ve had three people quickly lose eye contact with me when they were the one staring first.
i haven’t matt yet but i was really hoping we would be able to meet up at our usual spot, im snapped out of my trances feeling someone's hand on my shoulder squeezing it a little. i jump a little whipping my head towards the rest of the hands body, thank goodness it’s just nick. “babes, we gotta talk.” he said in a monotone voice, “why what’s up?”
“just give me a second, stop moving.” i listen to him and stop in my tracks seeing nothing wrong with today but the staring. “okay now what happened last night,” nick said now holding me down with both hands.
“well if you must know, my parents are out of town, like you knew and i stayed home studying before going out for mcdonald’s.” the lie slipped out from my mouth with ease hoping to keep matt and my secret a secret for a little longer.
“okay then maybe it isnt that serious…” nick trailed off, his shoulders were very visibly tense, not letting off since he caught up to me. “what are you talking about? but come on lemme at least go to my locker.” he reluctantly let’s go knowing i’m stronger than him.
“y/n wait– just know i have no clue if its true or if it's even you.” he says following in suit with me. “nick, still no clue what you are talking about.” my locker lock clicks a few times before i'm able to get it open.
a large barrage of papers fall out of my locker all having the same image pasted on them. my mouth drops open as i turn my head to nick. he picks one up from the top of my locker, unfolding it and making a sour face to it. “what? what is it?”
he slowly hands it to me, folding it back up before i get ahold of it.
my heart dropped.
it was a grainy picture of me riding matt last night, his hands on my hips and my face looking at him with pure lust. it was taken through my window and luckily you couldn’t see much of matt’s face and next to none of mine. but people knew, everyone knew it was me.
picking up a few other copies, some of them have the words slut and whore written on them in large words. if they printed a picture it must’ve been everywhere online, i cannot stand being here another minute.
stuffing a couple copies into my bag i storm out of the building feeling tears stinging my eyes, y/n how could you let this happen? what’s going to happen when harvard finds out about this? there goes your life, your friends, your boyfriend and your future. quadruple kill.
i sit in my car and just drive, drive to the only place that’ll bring me any kind of peace at this time. it was only a 3 minute drive from the school to the large forest that surrounded the school. i parked my car on the slightly wet gravel, hearing the crunch of the rocks beneath the tires.
i walked and walked till the trees seemed to clear a bit, the grass was wet and squished under my shoes. brunette hair peaks from behind a tree, it was like the picture was being painted in front of me this whole time. matt came here too, he came to where we met the first time.
he stumbled into the forest after getting chased by a couple of guys once he tried to start a fight.
something brushed by the bushes alerting me, a boy in an oversized hoodie over his stained red white tee. jeans scuffed and a little dirty as he flops down on the grass in front of me. i can hear him panting as his chest rose and fell with deep breaths.
he tilts his head to finally see me, i still sit there frozen with my book in hand slowly reaching for my keys being cautious incase he tries to go for me next. “i see, you know. im not gonna hurt you. i would never hit a girl.” his words are slow and very unconvincing. “do you talk? he asked, glancing at me again. he finally sat up and came closer to me, my hand clutches the house keys even harder as he steps plop in front of me.
his body collides with the tree as he sits next to me, his sweet and salty cologne fills my senses, feeling it cloud my thoughts. he takes the book from my hands and closes it looking around at it.
“everything has changed by cynthia atlan, we crave love so much we would trade anything for it, including ourselves. caleb and cam grew up together, had their first kiss together but still haven’t thought about getting together. when highschool life takes a horrible turn the two become separated and distant, caleb doesn’t wanna let cam go but life takes turns and loops. how are they able to navigate hormones, relationships and life? sounds like a hoot.” his sarcastic voice says otherwise.
“this caleb guy doesn’t sound like he really deserved her huh…” he flips through the pages quickly glancing at a couple words per page.
“well, i guess i should go, but i’ll see you around here i hope.” his smile beamed brightly as he pushed himself up and looked back at me.
“hm, maybe” it comes out almost as a whisper. his face lights up as he takes my words as an accomplishment. “yeah, i’ll see you around here, tomorrow.”
he never gave me my book back before he left and i didn’t even realise it. i guess that’s one way to make me come back
“matt?” i get out between choked sobs. i didn’t even need to see his red eyes and face to tell he’s also been crying.
he peered over to where i was looking up and down before attempting to wipe away his tears and sadness. i didn’t think twice before joining him.
his brown hair is tousled by him running his hand through it many times and his tear stained eyes tell more than what he wished.
“y/n i-i’m so s-sorry.” his tears spilt once more making any effort of wiping them away futile. he wrapped his arms around something and hugged it tight. it was my book he stole from me when we first met. “i’m so so so fucking sorry i’m such an idiot.”
“matt, please it wasn’t your fault. but i am terrified, i don’t want to ever go back to school.” my voice cracks while trying to get through that sentence. matt doesn’t even utter another word before he tugs me into him, straddling him as he wraps his arms around me in a tight hug.
“i’m so sorry y/n, i didn’t wanna face anyone after i left. when i walked in everyone was applauding and people shook my hand, i had no clue why until chris and nick texted me about it.”
his pure sincerity makes me suffocate him a little more not wanting anyone else around but him. he puts a hand around my cheek guiding it to him to kiss, i get a good look of his equally dishevelled face.
“we are so fucked.” i giggle a little thinking about how much a shit show this will be when we get back.
“is this what they mean in everything has changed that high school life would take a bad turn? because i’m happy to go through it if it means we get our happy ending. you’re my end, end game.”
“yes matt, this is everything. we are the happy ending. we are end game” my quivering lips connect with his.
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onlyhaos · 8 months ago
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I need the longer version of it please I think you know what I'm talking about I'm begging you 🙏🏻😭
this is pt. 2 from this fic!!
pairing: seungcheol x afab!reader
genre: angst, fluff
warnings: small mention about alcohol, the day after the fight
[a/n] It’s crappy and def not proofread (😭😭) I’m so sorry, but here you go!! (And thank you, you’re my first ask🥹🥹💞)
You wake up, not feeling relaxed at all.
Your head was still buzzing, just worse than last night. You let your head fall down again, but your head fell into a.. pillow?
Looking around the room, you noticed that you weren’t on the couch or in the living room anymore. You were in your bedroom, under your familiar sheets.
With a swift movement of your head, you immediately looked to your left, in hope for Seungcheol to be in bed.
But he wasn’t.
Memories of yesterday evening and night crossed your mind again.
Closing your eyes and turning your face into a soft frown, you began to bury your head into your hands.
Confusion about how you got into your bed quickly disappeared, because you were telling yourself that you probably went to bed, and you’re just not able to recall it.
Wanting to pick up your phone, you realized that it wasn’t on the nightstand.
So you got out of bed, putting on your slippers and going to the living room to get it. Until there laid a well-known someone.
“Cheol..?”
No response. Was he still sleeping? You tip toed closer to the couch, seeing your boyfriend’s eyes closed. His beautiful lips slightly parted as his breathing was a steady rhythm.
Quickly grabbing your phone, you went back to your shared bedroom. Leaving Seungcheol, still sleeping, on the couch.
You cuddled back into the sheets, fishing for the charger, that was always under your pillow whenever you didn’t load it. And when you began loading your phone, your lock screen lit up.
There was the message that you didn’t get, anymore, after you fell asleep.
Cheollie 🎀🍒
[…]
I love you, Y/n.
That last sentence was all you focused on, and also the sentence that quickly brought tears to your eyes again.
Opening your message app, you read the rest.
Cheollie 🎀🍒
I'll be back tomorrow, when we're both a bit more composed. We'll talk about every single thing, that made us come to thinking that breaking up would be a good idea.
Because I won't and I don't want to let you go that easily.
Tomorrow we'll decide how things will be in the future. If we'll still have one.
I love you, Y/n.
More tears stumbled out of your eyes. And before you could even notice, you began to sob.
Which, eventually, woke up Seungcheol. You didn’t know he woke up, though.
But when you heard the bedroom door opening you found out.
“Cheol.” You sobbed out, not able to keep it in anymore.
And your boyfriend couldn’t see that sad face of yours, so he went over to the bed and pulled you into a much needed hug.
Not able to stop the crying, you buried your face into his chest.
“I missed you — I shouldn’t have said that. I just felt so lost at that moment and didn’t think properly.”
That’s what you originally said, but it only came out in slurs and gasps for air, from crying that much.
Seungcheol quickly shushed you.
“Be quiet, baby, just cry it all out. We’ll properly talk after that.” He comforted, kissing your forehead.
Soft strokes through your hair, and on your cheek, calmed you down. Only the smallest tears escaping you, as your eyes met his.
“Y/n, love, I never want to see you like this. Especially not when I see that our fights end with you blacked out on the couch from my whiskey.”
He spoke, the smallest smile on his lips, as he wiped away any remaining tears.
With a small sniffle, you smiled, too.
“How are you feeling, baby?” Seungcheol asked you.
Looking into his eyes, you mumbled, “My head’s buzzing. I think I’ve got a hangover.”
Seungcheol recommended making you a soup, to feel better and more comfortable. To which you agreed, almost immediately.
So when your boyfriend made you sit on one of the stools in your kitchen, he prepared your favorite soup as hangover soup.
Talking about all the things from yesterday and clearing any misunderstandings, finding solutions for possible next times, both of you still shed a tear.
But that was nothing that a hug couldn’t fix now.
With a full stomach from eating your favorite soup, Seungcheol and you now had the time to comfortably cuddle on the couch.
With a random movie playing in the background. (Which obviously was ignored) You both made up for the time, that was not able to be shared yesterday.
“I love you, Cheol.”
“I love you, too, baby.” Was his response, smothering you with loving kisses.
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bonbonshideout · 3 months ago
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Who I think the crp would target pt.1
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Ticci Toby:
Personally, I feel he would mostly target abusive parents, but if he's out and just bored out of his mind, he'll kill whoever he stumbled across. When ut comes to abusive parents, I feel he would be a bit stalkerish, he'll find a parent or an adult, stalk them for a few days, see how they handle life and treat their families, if he sees any forms of abusive in any manner, he'll go for their ass, at night, in broad daylight, he doesn't give a fuck.
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Ben Drowned:
He wouldn't really kill people, but instead, electronics; he would be one of those viruses that you'd find on social media. Once he gets ahold of your device, it'll go haywire to start. Suddenly it'll reset and seem like nothing happened, however Ben would 100% love to mess with the person, opening random apps, turning on/off any alarms they might have, call random people in the contact list, etc. He would end up causing the person to go insane— be it or not his intention— to the point they probably kill themselves.
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Jeff The Killer
Like Kuchisake-onna, I feel Jeff would wear a mask of some sort, go up to people, and ask if they think he's pretty, not matter what they say, he'll carve a smile into their face anyways. He just likes to do it. If ya run into him, group or alone, you'll most likely be found dead later on anyways. He likes to kill everyone he runs into
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Eyeless Jack
Steming from my headcanons for EJ — linked here — He would kill whoever he finds on the Appalachian trail. He would definitely stalk them throughout their hikes and find a moment where their guard is down and can make one swift motion. He prefers a clean and quick murder. He would probably use his voice to trick people into getting closer - like that of a skinwalker or wendigo - and get them that way. Usually leaving the trails unbothered and a way to keep people coming without much worry.
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Clockwork
Doctors, or psychward doctors. Just anyone in the medical field; they're what pretty much why she's kinda what she is now, she holds some sort of grudge, even if it wasn't entirely their fault. She especially hates those that work at psych wards because patients usually end up worse than they were when first arrival. She wants them all to feel what she felt and just understand the suffering they inflict on many people.
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Jane The Killer
I feel she wouldn't really kill anyone, she's mostly going after Jeff so she's trying to mostly keep people safe, if that makes sense? But if she were to kill, it would probably be security. As bad as she may feel for doing so, it tends to happen that they get in her way to find and properly locate Jeff.
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Nina The Killer
She just does it for fun. She kills whoever she wants to. She does prefer killing other serial killers, though, usually gives her a bit of a challenge, and she's always up for that.
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X-Virus
He doesn't have a preference, he'll see a passer by and spike their drink with some crazy concoction he's created and watch as they slowly start dying whilst taking notes of the effects of said poison.
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Sally
She goes for pedophiles and rapists. She tries to help kids when it comes to situations that she had gone through while she was alive, having two forms - which I detail more in my hc, linked here - she l9ves to terrorize these people and make them for crazy, though she doesn't like to get her hands dirty, she prefers making them believe they're hallucinating, which she probably can do. Usually driving the individual to commit suicide in probably the worst ways possible, as she likes to cause more damage when there's a higher chance of them committing.
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stayandot8 · 9 months ago
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Heart and Seoul
Genre: tooth-aching fluff
Relationship type: married nonidol!Chan x fem reader
Important Contents: thank you the request friend :) I immediately got an idea when you sent this to me and I'm sorry it took so long to write. I hope you like it.
request can be seen here.
WC: 1.8k
masterlist
Hubby: Guess what I got???
A picture arrived a second later of three plane tickets, all with the same destination: Seoul, South Korea. A flash of shock hit me and my fingers worked faster than my brain could process. 
“Isn’t it awesome?! My parents helped pay for them so don’t worry, I didn’t spend too much money. Well, not yet anyways. I’m going to buy a snow suit for Celeste because she’s never seen snow before and she’ll want to play in it because if she’s anything like me but that’s beside the point!” Chris was so excited and when he was excited, he rambled about everything and anything. A change that occurred after he became a dad, but a welcome one at that. Getting him to share his feelings wasn’t too too hard when I came along, but ever since his daughter was born, he was a babbling mess. A good change, really. After five years, he’d really mellowed out with her safety. She had too many clothes to begin with with the overexcitement of her arrival from her uncles, but now she was down to only a few new outfits a week, and now he at least acted like he was thinking about it when he changed his mind from a ‘no’ to a ‘yes’. He couldn’t deny his little girl anything. 
“Chris, she has snow clothes. Her grandmother bought some for her the last time we went to Korea in the winter just in case it snowed, which she’s still upset about.”
“I know, the weather app is stupid, they never know anything.”
“Chris! She has enough clothes! We’re going to have to give her our master closet if you keep buying her more things!” He was quiet to this, like he was actually thinking about the logistics of it. “Babe, she’s not getting our closet.”
“I know!”
“You were thinking about it though.”
“...Maybe. Then I was thinking about everything else I could buy her with all that room.”
“Chris…” I said warningly. 
“I’m done, I’m done. She’s not getting our closet.”
“Good.”
“But she is getting a snow suit. Okay, love you, bye!” I clutched my phone as he hung up, shaking my head and wondering where in the world he was going to put one more thing she didn’t need. It wasn’t like he was buying nonsense, it was just that he couldn’t tell her no if she really wanted something. He was a good dad like that. 
Me: Christmas with the uncles sounds good :) 
Hubby: Start packing. We leave in three days :) 
Me: Won’t mom be upset we won’t be in Sydney for the holiday?
Hubby: My mom will be fine, she’s used to holidays without me. 
Me: Don’t remind me 
Hubby: It’s yours we have to worry about. 
It was true, I was worried that my mother would be upset about a holiday without her grandchild. She loved them more than anything, cherished her truly. The more I thought about it, the worse I felt about it. 
Hubby: We’ll tell her together. We’re adults now, we can choose to spend the holidays wherever we like. 
Always reading my mind, my husband. 
The front door opened and shut, letting in the Sydney breeze along with it and a head of dark hair waltzed right in. Heading straight for the fridge, she reached for a small bag of apple slices just out of her reach. 
“Mommy!”
“Yes, baby, do you need some help?” I was already off my stool at the kitchen island and heading towards her. 
“Yes please!” She turned her shining eyes towards me, just as warm and comforting as her father’s. Her smile pushed her round cheeks upwards toward her eyes, just like his. Chan said she had my nose and he was more thankful for that than anything. He hated his nose. 
She was still reaching for the bag, knocking a bottle of water to the floor. “Whoops! I’ll get it Mommy.”
“Oh thank you Cece, that was very helpful of you.” She loved hearing these things, loved hearing how she helped someone. Anyone. More of her father’s features shining through, she just loved to help in any way she could. I opened the bag and handed it to her. “There you go, baby .Do you want to watch some TV before your grandmas and grandpas come over for dinner?” 
Once in a while, all the grandparents came over for dinner to spend time with the three of us. They wanted to see their Cece before all the holiday craziness came and they had to get busy with everything else that came with the holidays. 
With the house smelling like grilled meat and rice, the doorbell rang like chimes in the wind, a touch from Chris when we bought the house. Cece ran to the door, yelling “I got it, I got it!” She opened the door to both sets of grandparents flinging their arms wide open at the sight of her at the door, her red sparkly dress swinging as she lept for them. They hugged her, bags swinging from their arms as all four of them came around her. 
I was luckier than most with my in-laws. They had welcomed me with the most open of arms into their family and made me feel like a part of the family, like they had always been there just waiting for me. My parents got along with them, his mother bonding with mine over their love of plants and house decor. Our fathers got along with sports, the only issue ever being who was paying for the wedding (they both wanted to pay for it). They loved me and I loved them. I knew this situation wasn’t common, so I cherished it whenever they all came together. 
“Cece, are you going to let them come in?” I laughed while they hugged her, knowing they wouldn't let go until she did. 
“Oh, it’s fine, she’s fine.” Chris’s mom said while the others were putting their belongings in the hall closet. She picked up her favorite grandchild and held her until she arrived in the living room with all her toys neatly stacked. Celeste had a habit that she picked up from her father of finding joy in organization. It had to come from him because it definitely did not come from me.
As the other grandparents gathered around Cece on the floor, my dad followed me out the back door to find Chris hard at work grilling. They hugged and we watched Chris grill. 
“How’s the producing business, Chris?” Neither took their eyes off the meat.
“It’s good! Keeps me busy, but I get to meet celebrities so it has it’s perks. And the company is still good with letting me off for time with Cece. So I can’t complain.”
“That’s because you still work on your days off. I still haven’t been able to stop him.”
I sighed and gave Chan’s back a reproachful look. My dad chuckled. 
“Honey, you haven’t been able to stop him from working since you started dating. Remember Valentine’s Day a couple years ago?”
“Hey!” Chan finally turned around, mouth open in mock shock. “You said you were okay! You know how hard it was to get Tiger JK to actually sit down and work with me.”
“I do! And I’m still proud you managed to get it done in time.” I smiled and took his free hand that wasn’t holding a giant pair of tongs. “That doesn’t mean I can’t be a little salty that you had to miss our second Valentines together.” His eyes squinted. 
“And have I made it up to you every year since?” He cocked his eyebrow. 
“I need a beer! Anybody else?” My dad quickly jumped up to head back inside for said refreshment. I shot Chan a smirk. 
“Was that necessary?”
“Hey, he could’ve done the math. Cece was born in November.” I rolled my eyes. His tone suddenly got serious. “Do you want to tell them now or after we eat?”
“After. Let them enjoy their time with her now.”
*
“You what?!”
The plates were cleared, Cece was passed out on the couch watching her favorite show, and the news had just come out. My mother, ever the drama queen, was fanning herself from the news. My father was helping her, if only to save himself the pain of a scolding from her later. 
“Well, they’re adults now, honey. They can do what they like.”
“But they’re taking her for the holidays too, Richard. Did you think about that?”
“Yes I did. They’ll be fine, they’ll be back afterwards.”
“And besides,” Chan’s mom interjected. “You can spend it with us! We can get wine-drunk and celebrate Christmas ourselves without the kids.”
Chris grabbed my hand and intertwined our fingers. My mother just watched us smile at each other. 
“We miss Korea, mom. And Christmas is such a wonderful time of year, I just think this year we want to spend it differently. We’ll pick you up some of your favorite face cream while we’re there, too.”
“So the trip won’t be a total waste for you!” Chris tried to placate her, but her face remained unchanged. “Alright Mom, what about this: when we get back, you guys can have Celeste for a whole weekend, just her and you.” She perked up at that.
“Friday to Monday?”
“You can even bring her back Monday night.” Chris, ever the diplomat. A rush of pride went through me. My mom thought about it for a moment. 
“Deal.” 
Chris’s dad piped in.
“What about us?!”
*
Celeste did really well for her first plane ride. We arrived at the Incheon Airport around noon, but we didn’t know what awaited us outside until we stepped outside to our car waiting to take us to our hotel. Driven by Hyunjin with a passenger seat occupied by Felix, they waved us over before climbing out of the car to fling their arms open for Celeste, who stopped halfway to them, noticing the white fluff all around. 
“Daddy, what’s that?” she asked, her voice dripping in wonder. Her eyes shining with pure curiosity, she ignored her uncle’s waiting arms to hold her arms out to catch the falling flakes. They disappeared as quickly as they had landed in her hand, but that didn’t stop her from trying to catch all of the snowflakes in her immediate vicinity. She jumped and reached, trying to reach the clouds they were falling from. This insanely cute action was met with laughter from all angles, and before she knew it, she was hoisted into the air by her uncle to get a closer look. 
Chris and I stood by and let them catch up and enjoy the cold.
“She’s so cute. She takes after you, you know.” I placed a hand on my stomach. 
“I dunno. Maybe this one will be just as cute.”
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lixiektty · 2 years ago
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꒰ঌ cupid's cams : choi yeonjun ໒꒱ — prev ▸ next
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word count: 2.5k, warnings/kinks: camboy!yeonjun, dom!yeonjun, sub!reader, language, unprotected sex, clit stimulation, praise, degradation, daddy kink, creampie, thigh slapping, dumbification, recording content for yj's OF, pls feel free to let me know if i missed anything!!
taglist: @hyynee, @enha-cafe, @xiaoderrrr, @lethallyprotected
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yeonjun knew sex like he knew the back of his hand. he was so good at it, too good that you began wondering about his experience. it didn't bother you that yeonjun seemed to know more than you did, it could just get uncomfortable when you tried taking the lead.
you were on the bed, playing games on yeonjun's phone as he cleaned the kitchen up and showered. having that trust always made you happy, even if all you did was help him with his daily quests on each game he had downloaded. you were having fun, until a notification popped up—someone replying to a tweet yeonjun posted. you didn't even think he had twitter.
'so hot 😍' it read.
your blood boiled, skin turning hot. jealousy. who could possibly be commenting on his posts? what did he post to receive such a comment? you felt guilty pressing on it but that didn't stop you. the twitter app opened, and you were met with the exact comment you saw that got you here under yeonjun's tweet.
'new vids up! subscribe for better content 😉💦' with a picture of his cock laying against his stomach.
it just didn't make sense. all this time yeonjun was basically a pornstar and you had no idea about it—and you knew for a fact that was your boyfriend's body, you've seen it way too much and know it all too well.
"alright, finally done babe. what're we watchin'?" yeonjun asked, entering the room with a big smile.
your expression didn't match though, you had tears swelling in your eyes when you looked up at him, cheeks burning with your hands shaking trying to hold the phone.
"baby?" yeonjun called out to you, noticing your discomfort.
"yeonju—un," you start, voice shaky and mind filled with everything but answers, answers you needed, "are you... selling yourself online?"
"give me that," yeonjun said, arm stretching to snatch the phone from your hands.
he looks down to see what you had come across, his heart falling straight to his ass. it wasn't that he didn't want to tell you, he just didn't know how to bring it up without possibily blowing things up.
"i do live streams once a week where i... you know... and people pay to see that," he admits, "and on my days off i post onlyfans content."
"when did you plan on telling me?" you asked, voice going out slightly.
"someday... it just wasn't easy," yeonjun says, coming to sit beside you on the bed. he looked down talking about the situation and that only hurt you more, "i been doing this for nearly three years and it ruined my last relationship, so i stayed single for a while and slept around."
a part of you had sympathy for him, even after being angry that he kept this from you for so long and possibly longer if you hadn't found out tonight.
"i just didn't want you to feel weirded out and make me quit or worse, leave me," he adds on. he sounded genuine and your heart broke at the fact that yeonjun didn't trust you because of his past.
"what makes you think me out of all people would judge you? i'm nothing like your past girlfriends, yeonjun. i know you, i trust you." you responded, reassuringly. you give gentle to rub his shoulder in a way of telling him you were no longer mad. of course, you didn't appreciate that he wasn't vocal about the secret occupation, but you understood why he wasn't, "and as long as it's only for the money and you're not secretly having feelings for all the people that give you it," you add.
"never," yeonjun turns his head, big eyes looking at you lovingly, "only you."
"okay," you reply. your worries faded away, leaving your body and turning into sudden need, "let's film something then."
"wai— what?" yeonjun's innocent and loving expression snapped into confusion.
"you need some content, don't you? i can help you out," you suggested, hand moving up and down his arm and perching up onto his shoulder.
his eyes shifted to a darker shade, heart nearly beating out of his chest. he didn't expect that him confessing would go well, especially not this well. everyday he worried about telling you, feared that you'd kick him to the curb and make him feel bad about himself—that fear was no longer present.
"god, you have never seemed hotter than you do right now," yeonjun said before chasing your lips and messily kissing you.
your arms wrap around his neck to pull him down with you on the matress, his limbs tangling with yours once your bodies mesh together. yeonjun didn't waste a single second, dipping his fingers into your shorts immediately and collecting your dripping essence.
a moan slips from your mouth straight into his, the pads of his fingers toying with your clit, teasing you more each time he moved lower with the tips of his fingers slightly entering you.
"fuck, j-jun, need you," you whine, jerking up into his palm.
yeonjun trails kisses along your jawline, down to your neck and collarbone, lips taking in some of your skin to suck roughly. his fingers moved in faster circles against your bud, causing him to feel more eager that his was gently humping your thigh as he grew harder.
you were whining needily, just wanting to feel his cock stretching you open. he sat up, pulling his hand out of your shorts, soon removing them from your body and spreading your legs for him to sit in between.
"so wet already, barely even touched you," he teases. bullshit.
your clit was throbbing in anticipation, hole opening and closing with each deep breath you took. yeonjun was in a hurry trying to get the knot in his sweatpants untied, his struggle being pretty obvious to you.
you sat up, replacing his hands with yours, taking the strings between your fingers and untying them slowly as you looked up at him with big eyes. fuck, if he wasn't already hard enough.
yeonjun bends down to kiss you, chin between his fingers. you were stripping him from his sweats and boxers, his cock sprung up and you were quick to grab ahold. you pumped it gently up and down then slowly falling back until your back hit the mattress, bringing yeonjun with you.
"have i told you how much i love you?" yeonjun breaks from the kiss—his pretty lips all pink and swole.
"many times," you giggle, "but i'd like if you showed me."
yeonjun grins, quick to take your hand off of him, snatch you shirt from you and angle his tip near your entrance. the light stretches from his cock being pushed further into you made your body feel ecstatic and you were clinging onto him in an instant.
no matter how many times yeonjun fucked you, you'd still feel numb with each inch that entered you, surprised from his size but taking it so well.
"daddy's tight little pussy feels so good every time," yeonjun whispers into your ear, leaving a wet kiss behind.
yeonjun draws his hips back, pushing back into you and repeating this until you cry out for more. his fingers meet your clit again as he fucked you slightly faster. you were moaning loud, causing yeonjun's ears to ring—but he didn't even mind, the sounds you made because of his doing was like an ego boost.
this soon reminds him of your suggestion, before you two had even got here in the first place. he was letting his dick think too much for him that he completely forgot your original agreement.
he sits up and takes your hips into his hands to keep you steady once he picked up the pace, making you clench down on his cock tightly.
"lights, camera, action, my love," yeonjun says, picking up his phone and switching to the camera app.
yeonjun clicks the red button, beginning to record the sight, so sinful and messy. he smiles watching your pussy take his cock on his phone that captured it so well.
"fuck baby, look so fucking hot taking my dick like this," he says. you'd think it was all talk for the camera if wasn't for how he already acted during your times alone.
he was filthy, loved expressing how he was feeling and giving you a verbal visualization of what he could see at the moment. to see you like this as he records, knowing he'd get to keep it for himself gave him—this new rush of adrenaline and he's soon pounding into your dripping cunt, unholy noises echoing off the four walls surrounding you.
your hands scrambled any and everywhere to find something to claw onto, finding yeonjun's waist and sinking your nails deep. yeonjun let out a gasp, strangely enjoying this newfound pain that didn't necessarily hurt—it felt good. really fucking good.
"oh, baby," he moans breathlessly.
you couldn't see him due to your eyes being snapped shut and you could just barely open them, but you knew he looked good. sweaty and strong as he fucked you into bliss.
"har—harder," you sigh, both your hands now clawing at his abdomen.
you sounded so cute when you'd beg, felt even better when he knew you wanted to be more verbal for the sake of the content—loud and uncontrollable moans even louder now that you were being filmed.
yeonjun slid his thighs from under your to further get comfortable and fuck you properly. you were now lying flat against the mattress, thighs spread and his fingers on your sensitive bud. he pulled his hips back, slamming back into you repeatedly, "such a slut for daddy, aren't you?"
"mhm—" you hum in response, yelping when yeonjun slaps your inner thigh.
"words." he warns through his teeth.
"yes, daddy," you moan, hips jerking up to feel more friction.
yeonjun being mean to you did something to you that you couldn't explain, it was hard to in words. he was already hot, but he was so much hotter when speaking to you like that—making you feel so guilty for being a slut, something he turned you into.
not a day went by where you didn't think about his bare skin on display for you as he's drilling into you with his fat cock, reaching every spot inside you as possible.
you both admired each other with no clothes on, that's why most of the time they were off. something about your tits pressed against his chest, close in all ways gave him joy because he knew he only got this. this made him cocky, treating your body like no other and knowing he's the only one that can feel you this way.
yeonjun didn't try to hold back any longer, going from low grunts to even louder groans. he was destroying you in the best way possible, not even just because you were being recorded, but because you most definitely deserved it. he has never had someone like you, someone so supportive and loving, making him feel like the only man in the world and fucking him good while doing so.
his followers were infact aware of his relationship status, but he kept that part of himself private. he only ever posted and talked about himself, never hooked up with someone else only for onlyfans content before you two got together. even now, he felt like he was taking away some of your privacy because he genuinely did keep you secret for the most part.
yeonjun could feel himself repeatedly twitch inside you, warm walls feeling incredible sucking him in and dripping more by the second. you felt brain dead, drooling from the mouth and high-pitched moans escaping your throat.
the room was hot, you weren't sure if it was just your skin or it was the mixture of sweaty bodies and hot breaths that caused the room to warm up how it did.
you could feel that knot in your stomach grow tighter and tighter, you were a moaning mess, babbling some incoherent things but yeonjun knew that meant you were enjoying it because you were turning stupid.
"dumb little slut, so hungry for me," yeonjun says, a whimper falling from his mouth when you clench again. he was plowing into like he'd be the last time, you just felt even better than you have before that it was driving yeonjun insane, "shit, i'm gonna cum—want it, baby?"
"so, s—s bad, p-please fill me up daddy," you struggle to say, which pushed him further—he appreciated your manners even when you could barely talk.
he grins, only something you could see, with his hand all over you to touch every inch of your torso as possible. his other hand was gripping tightly on his phone where he watch the scene rip before his eyes. your breasts bounced with each aggressive thrust he sent into you.
"daddy—" you whine, your brain was so fuzzy that his name was the only thing that came to mind along with swears falling from your mouth.
yeonjun grunted, louder and louder until he got to his high. so very close and he just wanted to feel you full of his cum, belly bulging from the amount he was soon to let out. his size already doing that and the camera catching it so well.
"so fucking sexy," yeonjun slurred his words, grabbing the back of one of your thighs and pushing your knee to your chest.
you felt him twitch again, thrusts get sloppy. he circled his hips and hit your g-spot roughly, cursing a few more times and then painting your velvet walls.
"oh my god—" you cry out, hands going down to stop him from moving further but he just kept the same pace.
you came in an instant, the fullness yeonjun was providing you overwhelming you. the sounds he made too—he sounded so god damn good.
"mhm, cum baby~" yeonjun cooed, "just like that, such a good whore for your junnie."
you lost track of your breathing, not knowing how to do a thing. he fucked you dumb daily, yet this was different—the fact that he had a camera on you capturing it all for anyone to watch but at the end of the day, you were only his, and he treated your body with such care even when being rough.
yeonjun catches his breath, turning off his phone and throwing it to the side. he leans down and kisses you, your arms and legs wrapping around his long stature.
"you... are so fucking amazing," yeonjun praises, kissing your nose, "i'll be more honest from now on, like i have something else to confess..." it scared you because, what else could he be hiding? your anxiety drifted away once you saw that beautiful smile of his play along his face, "that was probably the best sex we've ever had," he admits.
"glad we think alike, choi," you smile, pecking his nose as he did to you and soon his pouty lips. it was gentle but messy, having the urge to clench on his cock that had begun softening.
"are you leading me on so i'll fuck you again, hm?" he tilted his head slightly, dark gaze burning a hole through you.
"not that i'm asking for it," you trail on, trying to look away and hide your smile and light teasing you were so obviously doing to him.
yeonjun grew hard again from your clenching, thrusting up into you and grabbing your body until it was pressed against his, arm wrapped tightly around your waist, "oh you're asking for it."
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thezombieprostitute · 8 months ago
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Good moaning. 😇
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A/N: Sorry this took awhile @navybrat817. The muses weren't working with me.
A/N2: Reader is AFAB, Tall & Plus Size; Ended up working through a lot of my own insecurities on this one. Left it open ended because it's a lot longer than it should've been. It was supposed to be open ended but then Hal insisted on showing off.
Part 2
Word Count: ~1.2k
Warnings: Insecure reader. Please let me know if I missed any.
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Hal had always been the most notorious flirt in the office. Every woman had been complimented, flirted with, made to blush by him. Except you. When it came to you, Hal was all business. Maybe some friendly gestures, but that was it.
You should be used to it by now. You'll never forget in high school when your crush said, "I just never thought of you as a girl. I don't think of you as guy," he was quick to say, "but I just don't think of you as a girl." And it seems to have been the same for every guy, every crush, ever since.
Dating apps only seemed to make things worse. You'd be really getting along with someone, they'd talk about how personality is more important, but as soon as they actually saw you, their demeanor shifted. They always just wanted to be friends. You were pretty sure spinsterhood was your only option. Especially if even the Hal Carter wasn't willing to flirt with you.
"You should be grateful," some of your friends would chide you. "You don't have to worry about being harassed or assaulted." And you were grateful that those weren't concerns for you. But you weren't bemoaning a lack of problems, you were bemoaning an abundance of loneliness.
"Hey, Y/N," Hal's voice snapped you out of your self-pity party.
"Yes, Hal?"
"Do you have the specs for that Potts order? I need to double check a few things."
"Sure thing," you nod as you go to the filing cabinet. You find the paperwork he needs and hand it to him.
"Are you alright," he asks.
"No different than usual. Why?"
"You just...you seem...um. How do I put this?"
"Hal, please just tell me I look miserable and get back to work? I'm not in the mood for beating around the bush. I'm painfully well aware of how I look." You're struggling to keep the tears at bay and just want him to leave you be.
"Is there anything I can do? I hate to see you like this."
"No, Hal, there's nothing you, personally, can do. I'm just having a self-pity party after yet another bad date and I need to be left alone."
"You're dating?" His face is filled with genuine surprise and it's the straw that breaks you. You stop fighting the tears and just run to the bathroom to let it all out in private.
By the time you're done crying you're exhausted. You should get back to work but you just can't fathom spending more time around people. You get back to your desk, send a note to your boss and head home early. You're just gonna let yourself cry and sleep it out.
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When you get to work the next day there's a bouquet of blue hyacinth and white lily-of-the-valley flowers. The card had a simple "I'm sorry" card signed by Hal. You really should apologize to him, it wasn't his fault. It was just really shitty timing. Still, you appreciate the flowers. You can't remember the last time anyone got you any.
You get into the flow of work, catching up on things you missed yesterday, so you don't notice Hal slowly making his way to your desk, like he's afraid you'll lash out. When you finally look up and see him, you give him a soft smile and he takes that as an okay signal to close the distance to your desk.
"Thank you for the flowers, Hal," you start. "You really didn't need to. You did nothing wrong."
"I ask you a question and you leave crying," Hal huffs. "Pretty sure that means I did something wrong."
"Believe me, Hal, if it was something you did, I'd have told you." You shake your head, "it's just me being overly sensitive. And I'm sorry I worried you or made you feel it was your fault. You don't deserve that."
"So, you're single and looking," Hal slowly says.
"For now," you sigh. "Seriously contemplating giving up but I just can never bring myself to ever fully give up hope. No matter how many times I get hurt."
"Maybe it's your technique," he offers. "If you need help with your flirting, just let me know. I can teach you a few things."
Against your better judgment you open up the dating app and the messages you shared from the last guy you met for a date. You show them to Hal and tell him how you could've done better.
"Huh, you're a smart cookie," he says. "Talking to this guy about smart stuff that definitely goes over my head. Why didn't he work out?"
Trying not to lose patience, he is just trying to help, you calmly tell him, "because he saw me. That's how it always goes, Hal. I'm not pretty enough. I don't fit into any of the molds that define 'attractive'. I never hide my build, my picture, but there must be quite the difference between photos and real life."
"Sounds like your problem is that you keeping attracting douchebags," Hal observed. "Just need to find yourself a good man."
"If it were that easy, I wouldn't be so lonely."
"You don't think I'm a good man?" He seems genuinely upset by this thought.
"Hal, please be careful because I don't want to cry at work again," you start. "Regardless of whether or not you're a good guy, you've never once expressed interest in me, so why would it matter if you were a douchebag or not?"
"This is definitely my fuck up," he sighs. "I was trying to be respectful of you. I was trying to treat you differently to show I think about you differently."
"Yes," you agree. "That came through loud and clear. You want to be workplace friends at most. I understand that. It's not a fuck up."
"No, not like that," Hal counters. "I...I flirt with everyone but you because I didn't want you to think I thought of you as just another pretty face. I kept it professional with you so you would know that I am respectful of you as a person. That I appreciate working with you and don't want us to get separated because the boss thinks I'm doing more flirting than working."
"I don't want your pity, Hal," you scold him. "If you're not interested, you're not interested. I don't blame you! But a pity flirt? That's hurtful."
Instead of backing down, Hal puts both hands on your desk and leans closer towards you, neither of you breaking eye contact. Your eyes are filled with a simmering anger and his beautiful blues are steely with determination. "I will prove to you, however I need to, that my feelings and intentions are genuine."
"I need to get back to work," you reply with ice in your voice.
"Challenge accepted, Dandelion," Hal smirks before leaving you to your work.
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Part 2
Tagging @alicedopey and @icefrozendeadlyqueen because I promised I would
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