#i think i get it now endings are hard to write
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ceaseless-exhauster · 3 days ago
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Two things to add:
One, I would rephrase “the elites” as “corporations and billionaires” or at least “people in power” because I think it’s more accurate and I tend to be skeptical of phrasing any groups as “the elites” due to the antisemitic history of the phrase itself
But far more importantly in this instance: referring to the dead internet theory as an “online conspiracy theory” is absolutely fucking WILDIN. Yes, it became recently popularized because of a (probably tongue-in-cheek) conspiracy that you, the reader, are currently right now the only actual human left on the Internet and the rest is bots.
However, the theory itself is rooted in actual philosophy, largely informed by Ray Kurzweil’s ideas about the Singularity, which was in its turn informed in many ways by the ideas of Isaac Asimov. I have my own problems with both of these dudes and their theories, but the general concept of a dead internet is inspired by and strongly compatible with both of their assertions, and they’re both well-respected and relevant contemporary philosophers when it comes to this field.
As of the time of writing this (January 2025/Shevat 5785) I think it’s safe to assume that saying we’re currently experiencing a dead internet is firmly in conspiracy theory territory. But dismissing the crux of the theory as a whole for the future is absolutely buckwild and ignores the truly disturbing rise in manufactured interaction on social media platforms, as well as the real-world problems it causes. Elon Musk used bots on X for election propaganda, for fucks sake, some of the programmers told us straight up.
The fact that Meta is just coming right out and admitting that they’re about to do it? Horrifying. It’s beyond correct that this will facilitate the rapid degradation of critical thinking skills, and I mean that in a literal way, not in a fearmongering “omg social media is rotting the youth’s brains” way. Not being able to distinguish technologically generated material from real-world material is one of the things that kind of hallmarks the idea of the Singularity to begin with. We’ve already been fighting a battle against propaganda and disinformation, and the people whom that benefits the most are about to fully automate the production of it.
Beyond that - what the fuck does this do to us as a species? What are our interactions going to become if we can’t distinguish them as being attached to another human somewhere on the planet? If the bulk of our accessible information starts coming from a series of distorted reflections of the same stolen property?
Perhaps MOST concerning to me in this moment is that I tried really goddamn hard to find some good accessible sources on dead internet theory to share, in large part because it’s been a hot minute since I’ve studied this stuff in undergrad. I fucking couldn’t. I’m four pages deep on Google, on my third variation of a search term, and everything still says it’s just an online conspiracy theory. What the fuck. What the FUCK?
I try not to leave most of my rants ending in despair, so I guess my call to action for people is this: support the ever loving shit out of your local libraries, even if the most you can afford right now is to check out books and use the computers every now and again; refresh yourself on valid and time-tested research techniques, and if you have the time and ability, compile and post or publish instructional guides for how to do it; collect (actual human-authored) print media when and where you can and guard it like a rabid dog - go to those yard sales and get the fifty cent grandma romance novels, make a habit to order something off ThriftBooks every month, ask your friends for old textbooks they can’t sell, put it all in a fireproof box or store it somewhere safe when you’re not reading it.
I don’t think it’s that much of a stretch to say we’re looking at what’s tantamount to a war on reality itself - fight it by preserving the things you know are real, that you can touch or verify or make for yourself. It’s all valuable.
Ohh we're fucked 🤩
All of this motivates me to keep reading, learning, researching - I don't want my basic human skills to decline. I already see a tendency of people becoming lazy when doing basic research tasks on a daily basis and it's scary
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no-144444 · 2 days ago
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abu dhabi- o.piastri
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summary: your first season as an f1 driver doesn't start the best, and you quickly realise McLaren doesn't like women very much. On top of that, your race engineer is as smug as the rest of them, and you have to deal with him all the time.
pairing: race engineer! oscar piastri x f1driver! fem! reader
warnings: lots of misogyny, lando is an asshole in this, illusions to ed behaviour, reader is not in a good head space, all of mclaren is super sexist, mentions of crashes and injuries.
a/n: thank you all very much for your patience, this series means a lot to me and I've had a lot of personal stuff going on, so I felt bad for leaving you guys hanging for a bit. Thank you all so much for reading this series and I hope you guys enjoy this as much as I love writing it!
part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six | part seven
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Abu Dhabi. World Drivers Champion. World Constructors Champions.
Holy shit. 
All those years of hard work, of giving up being a child, of giving up having friends or family. You’d done it. You were a winner. 
You jumped out of the car and ran straight to Oscar, jumping in his arms. He caught you (of course) and cheered with you. 
“You fucking did it!” he smiled, pulling your helmet off. “You did it!” 
Every emotion flooded through you, but one in particular stood out; gratefulness. 
You were grateful for Oscar, for how he treated you, for who he was. He was there for you through everything, he helped you whenever he could, and while yes, you had a rough start, in the end you couldn’t imagine F1 without Oscar in it. 
“Thank you, Osc, for everything,” you smiled, hugging him close. 
“Anytime. Whenever. Always,” he nodded. 
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He was drunk as fuck, but he was still watching you as you chatted with various team members. 
“You’re fucked, aren’t you?” Lando chuckled, joining his side. 
Oscar rolled his eyes. “I’m drunk, yes.”
“No. You’re fucked for her,” Lando pointed twoards you. Perfect, unreachable, you. 
“Yes,” he nodded, frowning. “I’m fucked for her.”
“It’s pretty clear.”
“I know it is,” Oscar scoffed. “Thanks for Baku, by the way.”
Lando sighed. “Look, I’ve said a lot of shit this season that I didn’t mean, and I’m sorry I was a dick to the two of you. It wasn’t right and I do feel bad about it. So, I’m sorry.”
“Thank you, but that doesn’t solve the fact that she’s being this mysterious weirdo and acting really into me and then really not,” Oscar whined. 
“She’s a very broken person-”
“You think?” Oscar rolled his eyes. “You’re not exactly giving me much hope right now.”
Lando laughed at his drunk state. “Just talk to her,” he offered. “She listens to you no matter what.”
Oscar stared at him, then nodded. “Good idea!” he announced (a little too loud as it drew the attention of a few people around the two of them), and looked at you. But you weren’t there. Oscar frowned again. 
“You’ll find her before the end of the night, I’m sure you will,” Lando clapped a hand on his shoulder and passed him a bottle of water to sober him up. “Good luck.”
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Oscar had decided to go find you, he wanted to talk. On the way there, he’d acquired about three more drinks and pissed off a small group of other McLaren employees by spilling one of his three drinks and apologised profusely (albeit rather mumbly), and that’s when you came in with a hand on his shoulder and a gentle smile that brushed it all over. 
“Are you alright?” you asked him, taking him to a corner to look him over. 
“Y/n?” he questioned, his vision blurry. “Is that you?”
You chuckled. “Yeah, it’s me buddy, you alright?” 
He nodded, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you in for a hug. “I’m so proud of you.”
“I’m proud of you too, Osc, come on, we get you to bed?” you offered, pulling one of his arms over your shoulder and helping him walk. 
“Bed sounds good,” he nodded, allowing you to walk him to his room. 
Drunk Oscar was what you assumed three year olds acted like. He pressed every button in the lift, ding-dong ditched people in the hallway, and stripped (almost) naked the second he got in the door of his room. After a few minutes of being in his room, he decided it was a good time to puke his guts out in the toilet, and you, being the good samaritan you are, decided to stay with him. 
“Feeling any better?” you asked, putting a cold cloth on his head as he lay in bed. You sat beside him, holding his hand. 
He shook his head, his eyes closed and a grimace on his lips. “Shit.” 
You chuckled lightly. “You’ll feel better in the morning.”
He opened his eyes and stared into yours, his hand resting over your hand. And time (as it always did when he was looking at you like that) stopped. The world melted away, and it didn’t matter that it was 2 in the morning, or that he’d just vomited, or that all of this was a lot more confusing than either of you had anticipated. You two just got to be with each other, and that was enough for the both of you. 
“Why don’t you love me?” he asked, his voice small and raw. He spoke to you with all the care in the world, but you could see he was hurting. You were hurting him. 
Fuck. Why couldn’t any of this be easy? Why couldn’t you just… talk to him? Confess to him? Be normal? The boy you love was sitting there in front of you telling you he loved you and you just… froze for a moment. You took a deep breath.  “Osc, of course I love you,” you whispered. “But you shouldn’t love me. I wouldn’t be any good for you.”
“I don’t care-”
“You’d end up hating me-”
“I could never hate you,” he shook his head, reaching a hand up to cup your cheek. “I could never hate you.”
And you believed him. That was the scary part. You believed him when he told you he loved you. You believed him when he said he cares. You believed him when he said you look beautiful. You believed him when he said he wouldn’t hate you. “You should,” you whispered, tears forming in your eyes. 
“I couldn’t,” he whispered back, a soft smile on his face. He wiped away a tear that fell. “I don’t want you to be scared of how you feel.”
“I don’t want to hurt you,” your voice broke. “I’m not an easy person to love.”
“I disagree,” he chuckled, wiping every tear away. “I find it’s as easy as breathing.” 
And you couldn’t take it anymore. You curled up beside him and sobbed. You didn’t know how long you’d done it for, but you woke up beside him, the steady rise and fall of his chest against your head giving you something to ground yourself to. You remembered every moment of last night, every word he said, and everything you said. 
You just hoped he wouldn’t. 
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When Oscar woke up, he knew there was something he had asked you last night, but he couldn’t remember what. After his conversation with Lando, there was nothing else he really remembered, apart from the fact that you had brought him up to his room, and he pieced together that he’d probably asked you to stay (being the pathetic hopeless romantic he is), and that’s why you were in his bed. 
A few seconds after waking up, the hangover hit, and fuck it was bad. His entire body ached. 
“I’m never drinking again,” he groaned, his voice hoarse. 
You chuckled beside him. “Remember anything?” 
He sighed, turning to meet your eyes. “Nope.”
As much as that destroyed you, you knew it was for the better. Oscar was better off without you, that, you knew for sure. But, you also couldn't put aside the confession he'd made last night. “I find it’s as easy as breathing.” It played in your head over and over again, like a mantra that made every negative thought in your head silent for a few seconds. Oscar was good at that, making you question yourself. Either way, you were glad he hadn't remembered. It was for the better, right?
There was a split second where he could’ve sworn he saw a flash of disappointment in your eyes, but it was gone as quickly as it was there, replaced with a smile. “Well, let’s go back to Monaco.”
He groaned just thinking about facing the day, but the fact that he woke up next to you meant it was better than any day he’d ever had. 
He definitely needed to know what he asked you last night. And you definitely needed him to not find out. 
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isaisliterallyhim · 1 day ago
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hey can you please write about reader giving nagi a handjob while he's playing but as revenge because he's been ignoring reader for his games so reader doesn't let him cum unless he wins the round but he can't focus on the game because of the pleasure he's feeling!! hoping for a kinda subby nagi if that's alright <3
YES YES OMG ANON BBY I SEE IT AHJWJSAJ delicious plot hehe!
"i'm about to show you, baby slow down!"
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ft. nagi seishiro . ooc! nagi ? . somewhat sub! nagi heh . aged up! characters . established-relationships . fem! reader . nsfw . smut . handjobs . cockwarming in the end ? . nagi's kinda a dick rn . use of mommy ig... . unreliable narrator.. :^
wc: 0.5k
cw: this might be dub-con idk tho
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"my girlfriend's always harassing me whenever i'm tryna play a game.. what a hassle," nagi started off. his friends giggled on vc. "she's a nice person, you'll get used to it."
a few rounds of horror games, nagi was carrying hard. (heh hard like him :x) horror games were yea, a hassle. but, not a hassle to him. unlike his friends, nagi didn't really scream. shit, he was so lazy he didn't even wanna be fazed.
this round in particular though... "g-good god..." the man whined, spasming a little. "you good, nagi?" bachira asked. "is the horror finally getting to you?" your softer, smaller hands pumping at his cock :p
it started off slow, nagi didn't really notice at first. slow and steady wins the race right? but after a few more minutes of getting ignored, you fastened the pace.
you locked eyes with nagi. your lips curling into a smirk. "sei, what're your friends g'na think when they realize that when you're receiving a handjob with little to no lubrication at all?" you began. "your cock was leaking so much pre — it was like you wanted me to do this!" you continued to yap, face now no longer in a cocky demeanor but, in a pouty expression now.
"[n-name]," the grey eyed man moaned out. your expression, your hands... the stimulation was getting to him. "w-wait guys- oooh..." nagi tried to get out, his voice now strained. "nagi, you weren't even screaming are you good?" isagi asked. screaming? nah this guy was CREAMING.
"y-yep, i'm good," he stuttered out. "i jus' need a few minutes off real qui.." his voice trailed off as he muted himself. his hand released the mouse as his calloused fingers wrapped around your hand. nagi began thrusting into your hand.
his shaft was absolutely tearing up, just like the man. tears leaked from his eyes while there was a bit of semen leaking out of his tip LOL.
"[name], s-slow down.. [name], i-i.." he couldn't even get the words out as he scrunched his eye shut. "sei, yknow you dont deserve this at all.. all you've done was ignore me n shit this whole week..." you frowned. nagi knew he was coming close, hell he WAS going to come.
"i'm sorry mommy, i didn' mean t'- god! please, i'm sorry!" he apologized. the stimulation actually got to nagi as he came. his precious n delicious come leaked out as he let out the most gorgeous moan you've ever heard during the whole time you two were together.
your eyes kinda widened. nagi had this flushed, fucked out expression. he was panting like crazy. "[name], i'm so sorry.." he sobbed.
"what happened to emotions being a hassle, seishiro?" you teased. his sweatpants n boxers were to his knees LOL. nagi slid down your shorts n panties. "please let me feel your warm cunt, ma'am.. please use me f' your pleasure, pretty.." nagi mumbled. most genuine mumble omd...
"my bad guys, i'm back." nagi grunted after unmuting. nagi had a little bit of struggle seeing the PC screen with his gorgeous partner's warm n tight walls clenching against his shaft. let's just say, nagi wasn't the best player after LOL.
— ©isaisliterallyhim, 2025
tags! : @twijaxx ♡, @kyvkc
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a/n : errr... idk man i came back from training w my corps i j wrote this and threw it .. kinda late night post so uhwhhdaj sorry for the unreadabler englush i tried ok ygs i j went thru a breakup pls give me credit for trying. nyways, nagi ohf wakkk hes so hot omg.. i need that 190 cm man in me omgmgmjddkkwjd anyhow i hope ygs enjoyed hehe
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lightseoul · 3 days ago
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CHAPTER 8 | ALL OUT OF LUCK
w.c. 5.1k
tags. fem!reader, pro-hero!katsuki, aged-up (26), lots of cussing, mentions of food, so much violence. like so much y'all but it's Canon-typical violence, references to (quirk) supremacist views, a (somewhat) graphic depiction of mental health issues
a/n. the content of this chapter is one of the reasons why i almost didn't start this series in the first place. as it turns out, action scenes are deceptively difficult to write—i struggled at first, but i eventually got into the groove of things and found it so fun! so much shit will go down, and i hope you find yourselves at the edge of your seats while reading this <3 please, please let me know what you think and don't be a stranger! enjoy :')
links. masterlist, ao3
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You shoot up at the blaring sound of the alarm clock.
You scramble to reach and turn it off where it stands on the nightstand—quickly, before it wakes Bakugou up—a sigh of relief wracking your body when you manage to do so, a sudden stillness instantly enveloping the room.
That relief doesn’t last very long, though, because you’re once again shot with panic when you look up toward the foot of the bed, only to see the man himself already standing in front of it—fully awake.
“Fuck,” you breathe out, clutching your chest, “You scared me.”
“It’s too early to be this scared, princess,” is his pointed retort, a small hint of teasing underlying his tone. You shoot him a pained smile but don’t say anything back, not finding the courage within you to admit that your hands may or may not be already shaking in anticipatory anxiety.
Instead, you watch him as he does mobility stretches in place, breathing in through your nose and out through your mouth as he warms up his joints and rotates his limbs. He invites you to join him a moment after, and you do, if not in an attempt to ground yourself then in preparation for any physical combat that may ensue later on.
Not much is said between the two of you as you go on to prepare for the day, maneuvering silently within his bedroom and taking turns in the bathroom. He lets you get changed first, and you shimmy yourself in your most comfortable office clothes, finding almost immediately that describing them as ‘comfortable’ might be a stretch. Least suffocating, maybe—but the instructions were clear that you had to look the part, at least so that you could get past the guards and enter the building.
Apparently, you need to infiltrate the place organically to buy you as much time to position yourselves without raising suspicion. Mystically showing up on the premises with a man who will vanish not a moment later wouldn’t exactly be a common sight for the employees manning the CCTVs.
Well, then. You guess your long-sleeved blouse, slacks, and regrettably heeled shoes will have to do.
Not even five minutes after you step out of the restroom so he can get dressed himself, Bakugou emerges in a similarly dark, wrist-length shirt and trousers, and you’re about to comment on this unfamiliar yet…welcome sight when your eyes catch his notoriously unruly head of hair—magically pushed back, revealing his forehead.
Now, of all the things that strangely popped into your mind upon seeing him—handsome definitely wasn’t one of them—what you end up blurting is: “How the hell did you style it that fast?”
“Huh?” he responds absentmindedly, fiddling with his sleeves as he seats himself on the edge of the bed opposite from you. “Style what?”
You gesture towards his head. “Your hair. Hasn’t it always been a little hard to control?”
Folding his sleeves right up to his forearm, he then turns to face you, a borderline sheepish expression etched on his features. “’s some extra strong gel. Best Jeanist gifted it to me for my birthday.”
Ah.
“Yeah, well, it suits you,” you offer honestly, averting your gaze just as you think he is about to flash you a smirk. And before he can say anything: “I’m guessing you’re ditching the gauntlets for today?”
He nods, although he’s suddenly looking far from pleased. “No choice,” he intones, “My firepower will take a hit, but I can still get by without them.”
“Enough to kick some ass?”
A grin. “Always.”
You let Bakugou’s well-earned confidence infect you as you finish getting ready together, stuffing your respective bags with things you can let go of in case they get caught up in the fight, before finally walking out of your little sanctuary and into the living room. The twins are on you in an instant, installing your trackers on your chests where they’ve since taken residence for the past two weeks, pulling away without a single word afterward. You mutter a quick thanks, before walking toward Bakugou on the couch and asking him what he wants for breakfast.
“Something light,” is his answer. “Don’t wanna be bogged down by a heavy stomach.”
You end up getting him french toast with a protein shake—whether or not that was light for a man his size, you have no idea—while ordering a croissant and iced tea for yourself. You don’t bother asking the twins if they want to get something as well—opting to just get them breakfast sandwiches and coffee instead. You heard a stomach grumble just a few minutes ago—and it definitely wasn’t yours or Bakugou’s.
The food arrives just as quickly as it did the night prior, and you waste no time digging in. To your pleasant surprise, the twins accept the offering, albeit too begrudgingly for your taste. Maybe letting them starve was the smarter move for today’s final mission, but as you watch them scarf everything down in a matter of minutes, you decide that that’s a trade-off you’re willing to overcompensate for.
By the time you’ve finished eating and cleaning up, it’s a few minutes before 6 AM, and you resolve that as far as D-Days are concerned, the start of this one is going swimmingly well.
Right up to the moment Kouki materializes and grabs Bakugou’s wrist but not yours.
“Change of plans.”
At that, you instantly freeze just as Bakugou barks: “The fuck do you mean change of plans?”
That doesn’t seem to faze the teleporter, who instead regards the pro-hero with a stern, almost chastising look. “You’re needed in one of the schools. You’re coming with me.”
Somehow, you snap out of it. “But you said—”
“It’s a direct order,” he spews, now looking at you with such intensity that has your blood turning cold. “One that you have to follow. Unless…”
“Unless, what?” growls Bakugou.
He smiles. “Unless you want us to call off the entire operation and teleport where you can’t find us.”
Fuck.
Beside you, Bakugou must be thinking the exact same thing, because he suddenly goes quiet.
Kouki harrumphs. “That’s what I thought.”
Neither Bakugou nor you say anything else in protest after that, acutely aware of the gamble that has to be made.
It’s clear as day: either you follow the order and divide and possibly conquer, or resist and lose them altogether.
Perhaps for good.
Armed with the explosives Bakugou made himself, no less.
You chance a glance at the pro-hero, and the impassive look on his face is enough to tell you what he’s decided on.
You’re running out of time and you also need to say something, you know that. Otherwise, he’s going to think there’s something more important to the two of you than seeing the operation you’ve been devotedly ‘working on’ to fruition.
Something beyond just two lovers ensuring each other’s safety.
Forcing yourself to meet Kouki’s steely gaze, you finally relent and nod. “How’s the rest of us gonna get to our post, then?”
“I’ll come back right after I teleport him,” comes his speedy answer, seemingly satisfied with your newfound enthusiasm. “I’ll take you three to where Masaki is waiting near the Prime Minister’s Office.”
“He’s already there?” you can’t help but ask, suddenly nervous at the mention of the kingpin.
You still don’t know his quirk.
“Yes, and he mustn’t be kept waiting,” Kouki says cuttingly, before turning to regard Bakugou, whose wrist he’s still holding. “We’ve to get going.”
“Alright,” the pro-hero grits out, shrugging off the man’s hold, “Just—give me a sec.”
For a second, you think he’s going to head to the restroom to pee before the ‘mission’ starts, but then he’s stepping towards you, and you barely manage to stop yourself from tilting away when he leans into your space, immediately followed by a firm grip on your shoulders. Despite yourself, you gulp.
Bakugou lets out a long exhale. He’s not looking at you—you note—gaze directed towards the floor. You decide then and there that you don’t like seeing him like this.
Like he’s actually…scared.
“Hey,” you whisper, and he looks up, finally meeting your eyes. You almost stumble at the sheer intensity of them.
Almost.
In spite of that—and you don’t know how you do it—you manage to smile at him, as genuinely as you can.
“What are you so worried about?” you tease, voice soft enough for just him to hear. “I’ll be okay.”
To your dismay, that doesn’t make Bakugou laugh—countenance still grim—but his features do soften. So minutely, the change is almost imperceptible—but it’s there.
“How can you be so sure?” he actually whispers back.
That makes you grin, the answer already at the tip of your tongue.
“Because you don’t date losers.”
Now, at your quip, you expected him to at least smile. Maybe chuckle, if that punchline came out funnier than you intended it to.
But what you absolutely didn’t expect was for him to grab you by the neck and pull you into a kiss.
It takes you a second to realize what’s happening, body rigid in utter surprise, but you eventually relax into his hold, wrapping your arms around his torso as he deepens the kiss. A few more seconds pass by with your lips interlocked before he finally pulls away, face flushed and a little out of breath.
“Be careful,” he eventually gets out a beat later, and you nod, suddenly hyperaware of the three pairs of eyes watching you.
Kouki’s especially.
“You, too,” you call out to Bakugou as he lets go and returns to the spot beside Kouki, who once again takes his gauntlet-less wrist.
“We’ll be off, then,” the old man announces, and just like that, they’re gone.
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Kouki returns—alone—in record time, an inexplicable expression written on his face. You debate whether or not to ask him how things are at Bakugou’s location, ultimately deciding against it when the man impatiently beckons you to move. You promptly approach and hold onto him just as the twins adjust their portkeys without much complaint, all the while trying to ignore the churning sensation at the pit of your stomach.
The borderline nauseating feeling doesn’t get any better as you get whisked away from Bakugou’s apartment unit in a matter of seconds, suddenly finding yourself sat as you emerge in what you think is an SUV—judging by the size of its interior. You squirm in your seat—too caught up in the discomfort of being squished between Kouki and Omiru in the back—to notice it.
But then you look up, and when you do, the churning from earlier stops and your stomach drops entirely.
From where he’s conveniently plastered in the driver’s seat, Masaki turns to fully face you, smiling.
Or at least you think he is, based solely on the upturn of his lips.
Because hiding his gaze is what seems to be hardened, high-tech goggles.
Goggles that completely block your view of his eyes.
Fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
You vaguely register Masaki thanking Kouki for bringing the three of you to him, and you think Kouki must’ve teleported away judging from the faint swell in wiggle room at your sides. But you couldn’t recall when that was exactly, and this very thought sends another shot of panic through you, the taste of bile now blooming in your throat.
You know what you have to do.
Clenching your eyes closed, you center your attention on the primary emotion you’re feeling—fear, unmistakable fear—and pull.
Instantly, you feel your facial muscles relax, cautious enough to let the change appear slowly—both in your face and in your frame.
The last thing you need is to inadvertently confirm any suspicion about your quirk.
Even if it means using a huge chunk of today’s reservoir on yourself.
Taking a deep breath, you let your eyes flutter open, and you’re once again met with the sight of Masaki, whose torso is now turned towards you.
Shit.
You scramble for something to say.
“I-isn’t it a bit too early?” you ask, averting your gaze toward the car window. “Is the Prime Minister even around at this hour?”
You don’t get to see Masaki’s reaction to your sudden question—you wouldn’t be able to study his eyes anyway—but you hear him shuffle in his seat, turning back to face forward. “Yes, he’s expecting a visitor.”
A million questions come up in your head—how he even knows that information is one of them—but what you end up asking is: “How about the rest?”
That must’ve been the right query to ask, because Masaki hums in what you think is approval. “People will be there, Y/N. When the Prime Minister’s around, most of the employees are expected to be present.”
You guess that makes sense.
You don’t say anything else after that, opting to peer at Masaki through the rearview mirror instead. To your surprise, he shifts his head towards the very same mirror, and you’re almost sure he’s looking straight back at you.
He smiles again. This time, a little too knowingly.
“Is there something—” he starts, before trailing off and pointing to his eyepiece. “Oh, this?”
You bristle. Still, you feign ignorance. “Huh?”
“You seem to have been staring at my glasses.”
You let your brows furrow, as if in confusion. “I…don’t think I was?”
“Cut the crap, Y/N,” Omiru suddenly spits at you from the side, and you startle.
“What the—”
“Now, now, Omiru,” scolds Masaki with that placating tone of his. “Y/N might’ve been lying to us but we still have a mission to finish.”
You blanch. “Lying?”
“Unfortunately, yes,” comes the leader’s quiet response, who’s watching the scene unfold behind him through the mirror. “It’s a pity our surveillance men took so long to notice, how you had us acting strangely, that day we met.”
Masaki cocks his head to the side, before: “Your quirk works via eye contact, doesn’t it?”
You stiffen.
“Thought so,” he concludes, and you bite back the urge to close your eyes in defeat. It’s too early to give up.
“Don’t worry, though,” he adds on after a beat, finally bringing the engine to life. “Nothing will happen as long as you cooperate and use luck when I tell you to.”
…Luck.
Did he just say luck?
Your eyes must’ve widened a bit at what he just said, because he continues. “Ah, Bakugou?” he asks, and suddenly you’re hit with the guilt of not thinking about the pro-hero.
Especially when he says the next thing.
“Like I said,” Masaki drawls, “As long as you cooperate, no one gets harmed.”
A pause.
“Even him.”
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Your question gets answered as soon as you stop at the guard house.
Masaki’s quick to take off the goggles before rolling down his window, greeting the primary security guard with such innocence you definitely couldn’t have guessed he was on his way to an assassination if you based on just the encounter alone.
The guard flashes him an easy grin as he greets back, before bringing the walkie-talkie that’s velcroed on his shoulder closer to his mouth. “Masaki Kento of the Korean Consulate, heading towards Building C. I repeat, Masaki Kento to Building C.”
A bunch of static emanates from the device, immediately followed by a robotic voice. “Copy that. Let him in.”
At that, Masaki salutes him a thanks, which the guard returns fervently. You don’t even get to catch a glimpse of the former’s eyes before he’s got the window up and the eyepiece swiftly back on his face.
“Let me guess,” you pipe up as Masaki rounds a curb and drives more slowly as you enter the grounds, “You’re a consul and these two are your domestic bodyguards.”
“Yes,” Masaki readily confirms, “That is correct.”
That explains why he’s almost never present in the headquarters.
“Huh,” is the only thing you can muster, focus now trained on any human that you pass by.
The less they are in number, the better—is what Bakugou said. So far, most if not all of them are decked out in attire guards would normally wear, which you think isn’t much of an unfamiliar sight in this estate.
Eventually, you arrive at the front of what you believe is Building C, stepping out of the vehicle with your handbag in tow a moment later, smoothing the crinkled lines of your slacks. You pretend not to pay attention as an again bare-faced Masaki hands over the keys to the valet, who is off with the vehicle in seconds to what he said was the multi-story car park.
You don’t dare utter a word as you trail behind the man carrying a bulky briefcase you’re positive contains nothing but bombs, with the twins walking in step behind you. You keep your eyes fixed on the staircase as you do, painfully aware of how your nerves are coming back alive, and this time, somewhat more fiercely than before.
You know better than to waste another ounce of your quirk on yourself, though.
And so with ragged breath, you trudge on with anxiety creeping back up your spine, up until you’re met with another guard at the entrance, who makes a quick work of identifying the four of you. You’re introduced as Masaki’s new personal assistant, while the others just reiterate their established titles. The guard then grants you entry, but not before instructing you to register your name at the reception desk.
Masaki thanks the man on your behalf, and then finally—you enter.
The second that you do, though, you can tell something’s wrong.
For one, right behind the desk that you were ordered to approach, was nobody. Not one receptionist.
Nor are there janitors, guests, employees, or anyone that could possibly be in the Prime Minister’s Office at this hour.
Masaki, who just put on the goggles again, must have thought the same thing, because you catch him physically tensing, like this wasn’t part of the plan.
You’re about to ask him—genuinely—why the place seems to be deserted, when it happens.
Something fast lurches from the shadows in your peripheral vision, and you stumble back just in time to see Hiroto slammed to the ground by no other than Kirishima.
The male twin lets out a yelp in pain as the hardened hero wrestles him in his grip, all at the same time as a long string of tape suddenly fills your vision. You look up, and sure enough, there’s Sero swinging right into Omiru foot first, hitting the woman square in the jaw. She staggers violently backward, right into you—but the collision doesn’t happen, because a hand grabs your wrist out of nowhere and you’re pulled to the side.
A tidal wave of relief washes over you as you let yourself get forcefully dragged, but it’s instantly replaced with terror when you look up to see Masaki’s backside instead. From a distance, you hear Kirishima’s voice call out your name, and it snaps you out of your fear-driven trance. Renewed with unbridled strength, you put as much of your weight as you can on your soles and try to wrangle your hand out of his grip, but it’s too strong.
Masaki manages to haul you toward the end of the hallway, throwing you right into an elevator and punching the close button before you can pick yourself back up on your feet. You barely see him pressing the top-most floor before he turns around and grabs you by the shoulders, pinning you hard against the wall.
“You told them about us, didn’t you,” he seethes, manic, but you don’t dare say anything. At your silence, he lifts you a breadth’s hair away from the surface only to slam you back against it. You can’t help it—this time, you cry, a sharp pain sent straight to your back.
“Answer me,” he demands, and you’re just about to knee him in the balls when the elevator dings. You wait for Masaki to get distracted and look away so you can deliver the blow, but it doesn’t happen. His gaze seemingly remains fixed on yours even as he lugs the two of you out of the box, grip unrelenting as he approaches the nearest fire alarm device, smashing the glass before pulling down the lever.
Almost instantaneously, tens of alarms ring out not just on your floor but on the ones below you, and you can only watch in horror as the numbers on top of the elevators freeze.
“Kouki,” Masaki rasps into his earpiece, his two hands busy holding you at arm’s length. “Kouki, do you copy?”
You growl, a surge of indignation washing over your entire body at him blatantly ignoring you. You extend your leg from underneath in an attempt to trip and then pin him down, but he takes notice in the nick of time and staves off your attack.
“Kouki,” he tries again, even as you manage to ram a punch into his stomach, “Answer me!”
You grit your teeth, feeling your limbs quaking as you fight to fend off his grip. Still, your mind wanders as to why he’s calling Kouki now, of all times.
What, so he can teleport him and the twins out of here?
But then he speaks again, and you see crimson red.
“Kouki, kill him now!”
Your body moves before your brain can think—you throw yourself onto Masaki and grab him by the neck. He stumbles backward until he collapses and his back hits the floor, and you take that as an opportunity to immediately straddle him, increasing the pressure on your chokehold. He splutters for a bit, arms flailing and scratching at you, but before you can even think about trying to rip off his eyepiece and potentially taking the upper hand—at least until Kirishima and the rest arrive—he rolls over and has got you pinned under his weight in seconds. He pulls the same move and roughly wraps his hands around your neck, instantly cutting off the air to your lungs. You wheeze, and yet you still struggle even as you feel the last bits of oxygen die out.
He grins at you, and one look at the man’s face tells you he’s gone mad. “You’re on the wrong side of history, Y/N.”
Great, you think to yourself. Those can’t be the last fucking words you hear before you die.
You make one last attempt at seizing his wrist off of you, but—just like many other things in the past five minutes—that doesn’t get to happen, because something flashes in the corner of your eye—so quickly you think you must’ve imagined it. You squint, and in hindsight maybe you shouldn’t have, because, in the second that you do, Masaki is kicked off of your body and slammed straight into the far wall.
Shellshocked, you crawl backward with your forearms as fast as you can, not knowing what the fuck just happened.
But that’s when you see him.
You can only watch in disbelief as Bakugou propels himself across the room in a matter of a millisecond, towering over Masaki’s body instantaneously. “Get back!” Bakugou shouts, and it takes you a beat to realize that he’s talking to you.
You didn’t need to be told twice.
With the little, remaining strength you can muster, you manage to stand back up and hobble towards the corner of the room, farthest from where the two are currently engaging in a fistfight.
It doesn’t take long for you to realize that Masaki’s holding up better than you expected him to, and the very same realization must’ve dawned on Bakugou, because the pro-hero swiftly switches gears and starts detonating small explosions toward the man’s direction.
But then the weirdest thing happens.
Instead of being hit by Bakugou’s blasts, Masaki absorbs them—right where the combustions meet his body—
And then, in the blink of an eye, releases it—almost twice in size—straight into Bakugou.
You hear the pro-hero curse just as he barely manages to dodge the hit. The discharge reaches the wall, leaving scorched marks and massive craters on the surface.
This is bad.
And you don’t even have to look at Bakugou to know that.
Still, the pro-hero presses on, and you stand there—restless—as the fight resumes in front of you. Bakugou’s stopped using his quirk to attack altogether, only using it to expertly maneuver himself in the air. Masaki’s fending off the strikes well enough, even landing a few hits here and there. You try to hold eye contact with him—but it’s no use. He’s still wearing the goggles, and you’ve studied them long enough this morning to be fairly sure that it’ll take more than just a perfect kick to the head to have it taken off.
That’s when it dawns on you.
You can’t manipulate Masaki. That’s for sure.
But you can manipulate Bakugou, who—based on what you can see—is becoming more and more frantic by the minute.
No fucking time to hesitate.
“Bakugou!” you shout, and the man doesn’t even glance in your direction, only shouting back: “What?!”
“Look at me!” you yell, pupils darting in record speed as you follow Bakugou’s volatile line of vision. You weren’t about to miss him when he does.
He doesn’t question your request, but he doesn’t immediately look at you either, too wrapped up in hitting Masaki and not getting hit back.
But then Masaki’s suddenly got him pinned against the wall across you, and you find yourself immediately face to face with him. You scream, “Now!”
Exactly right on cue, Bakugou’s gaze drifts from Masaki’s face to yours, and when you lock eyes, you pull.
Manic adrenaline to laser-sharp acuity.
Acuity that he’s always had since you met him in high school.
As hard as you fucking can—and with all that you have left—you pull.
And just like that, Bakugou’s entire countenance changes. You can only watch as the metaphorical gears in his head seem to come alive and shift—just as he throws Masaki off of him with unmatched force.
But then he does the unimaginable.
He starts bombarding the man with explosions—one blast after another, not allowing him the chance to even sit up and shield himself—and you stare in outright shock as Masaki’s body glows redder and redder.
Just as you think Bakugou’s completely lost his mind with the series of attacks, he launches himself from the wall and dives into Masaki, grabbing the man’s arm, tugging him to the nearest door with one hand and yanking the slab of wood open with the other.
And only as Bakugou throws Masaki into what you think is a janitor’s closet and locks the door behind him does it hit you like a ton of bricks.
“Come on!” Bakugo shouts at you as he presses his entire weight against the door—the door that Masaki’s desperately trying to get through. “Help me lock him in!”
You look around the room for something you can use, your eyes immediately landing on a chair and a moderately-heavy-looking desk. You waste no time grabbing the two pieces of furniture and hauling them toward Bakugou as fast as you can. Taking the chair first, you tilt it by the backrest and lodge it underneath the doorknob until it’s secure enough. You then hurriedly drag the desk to the other side and slide it in front of the door, just as Bakugou propels himself upward and out of the way.
You don’t get to do anything else before Bakugou snatches you by your waist and boosts the two of you toward the floor-to-ceiling windows, smashing against them shoulder-first. You hold onto him for dear life, wincing at the impact even though Bakugou took most of it.
And you’re glad you did everything the way you just did—because not even a second later, the explosion finally goes off—an eruption so massive that you’re both thrown forward from the sheer magnitude alone, the sound of shattering windows and crumbling walls booming in the background. Bakugou loses his balance for a second and you shriek, but he manages to get back into thrusting you into the air with his detonations, carrying you securely in his arms until you reach the ground, gently letting go of you when you do.
The moment your toes touch the concrete floor, though, you’re quick to jump on your feet and hobble away from him.
“Hey—”
Quickly, you tell yourself as you feel the tell-tale pinpricks of tears at the corners of your eyes. Before it’s too late.
But you don’t get to go far enough because Bakugou grabs your wrist, spinning you to look at him. “The fuck do you think you’re go—”
He cuts himself off, the scowl that was just carved on his features instantly falling when he sees your face. “Are you—crying?”
“N-no,” you choke out, although you know it’s no use denying it. You’re already feeling the all-too-familiar closing-in sensation that comes with you overextending yourself.
“Yes, you are, dumbass,” Bakugou retorts, before bringing up his other hand to lightly touch your cheek. “Tell me, what’s wrong?”
At the contact, you clench your eyes closed, fighting down the urge to whimper at the steadily increasing pace at which your heart is irregularly racing.
There’s no doubt about it.
It’s now flooding you—the terror that you’ve secretly been tamping down with your own quirk this entire mission—but especially today.
“Fuck—” you warble, and now you’re sure.
You’re having an anxiety attack.
It all happens in a blur—your brain too muddled with palpable fear to keep track of everything around you—but you vaguely register Bakugou wrapping his arms around you and rubbing soothing circles on your back, as he tried to guide your erratic breathing with his.
You remember shaking violently in his hold, gasping for air and barely managing to will yourself to breathe normally as an undercurrent of dizziness coursed through your veins.
You recall sweating bullets but being cold to the touch, and Bakugou ripping out one of his sleeves to use to wipe away your perspiration. It didn’t really help.
And you don’t know how much time passes with you fighting the nausea on top of everything, even as you heard the distant sound of police sirens, but it does—it somehow does—eventually and strangely finding yourself carried away home.
Home to Bakugou’s.
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˖⁺‧₊ as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are appreciated <3 feel free to drop an ask, too—i'd love to chat with you. have a nice day!
tagging. @bunnysaursushii @yawnzzzzzzzz @cholios @kashee-h @iluv-ace @lotuslovers @elarakive @sugurusmoon @napbatata @k0z3me @h0ngh0ngh0ng @honeyoru @yoongiwithglasses @hellokitty-doll @lilsebnem @tetsuukuroo @crangrapel0ver @syrhra @qyuin @lotusstarr | @junehasnotbeenfound @sugalarity @haechansbbg @sikuthealien @reiniella3 @ita606 @xoxoblueyy @mutsu422 @eyesforbkg @kalulakunundrum @venus-xxoo @lemuhr @pinkpantheris @ashers-playpen @bakugouswh0r3 @certaindreampost @3ve88 @tsumuus @4acoffee @anonymity-222 @lousypotatoes @homeless-clown @sk8wh33l @jungkookslittlecarrothoe @jax-the-oregonian @shosuki @reisore @babylambdietcoke @sleepyyhabii @adherethecomingofage @hakvyxo @squishybabei @gin-n-chronic-illness | @matchat3a @harryzcherry @h0nestly-though @cc1306 @gold24fish @bakukags @zennypiee @wannabewolf @kameko-ko @lovra974 @arc6021 @kooromin @surprisemodafakas @ilovedenk-i @st4ntwic3 @j1tterbugaboo @call-memissbrightside @arael-asuka @bakugosgothhoe @biancatomlinson @reads-stuff-quietly | @js-favnanadoongi @stxrrielle @panikk-attackkk @ordola @simpforeveryone @typsichryle @arsonfrogger | @vitoshi @floverisland @confusedmomfriend @poemzcheng @cheezemanz @cax-per | @rorel1a @astolary @trashyforashy @sunaraii @reisore | @beepboopcowboy @kyluskaye | @moonz33 | @lovesabreeze @reblogwhoreowo
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dorkus-mcdingus · 1 day ago
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Can I also add on that even the EVENT CHARACTERS that we see on Halloween have such brilliant writing that it makes heavy impacts on the fandom even if we see them just one time?
Rollo was the very first playable Halloween NPC that had such a huge impact on the fandom and is still so loved to this day. I swear though, Glorious Masquerade was a cultural reset in the TWST fandom in general especially with how HARD they cooked on not just the story, but also the outfits, the music, also Rollo himself with him having his motivations be more in line with how Frollo is in both the book and the musical! There's a reason why the event is a major fan favorite and it's for a good reason.
Say what you want about Playful Land and the execution of the ending, but that event was the closest thing we've ever had to a true horror event but you all remember when we first saw Fellow and how A LOT of us were drooling over this guy? I mean hell, the guy was I think #36 in the Yume polls in Japan in 2023! Plus with Gidel being the cutest little nugget, we all were screaming
"OH NO HE'S HOOOOOT!!!!!" and "OH NO HE'S CUUUUUTE!!!!!"
Respectively.
And then there's Skully. Oh freaking boy there is Skully, the skelly boi himself. The man had such a HUGE impact on the fandom that even outsiders couldn't look away! He was EVERYWHERE! Even now when I go around the internet, I will always see fan art of him and now even fan made plushies of him! I mean Rollo's got some fan made plushies of himself and I know Plush Wonderland has a poll open for Fellow and Gidel to get dolls made of them but Skully is so loved, so adored that HE WAS THE SECOND MOST POPULAR CHARACTER TO BE YUMED WITH BEATING OUT THE LIKES OF GOJO SATORU!!!!
And to think, these characters have only been introduced to us once. They've served their purpose, they take a bow, but we still adore them so much
How it feels being a player of the niche game Twisted Wonderland, whose overall quality is stable, when you see players of mainstream games complaining about powercreep and shit storytelling and gooner fanservice
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Because the gameplay and monetization practices are already dogshit from the beginning we don't really have expectations lmao. But the one thing we have against everyone is that the story actually has depth, has a message it wants to convey, and the cards are always beautiful except for a few odd ones. Every new release only fuels our love for the boys.
I'm the number one twst shill, but if you're even a bit critical of writing styles, you'd know it tops majority of the long-winded, pretentious storytelling word slop the other gacha games have lol.
Comparatively, twst is simple. Simple, but really gets its point across in the least amount of words possible while still keeping the execution engaging. Schools teach us KISS (keep it short and simple) for a reason lol.
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angelfic · 1 day ago
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Heyy if u write for him could I get a Tim and reader just going out for a date night
tim drake x reader
warnings — fluff, kinda suggestive at the end, nothing elseee a/n; i absolutely write for tim and i rlly wanna write more for him in the future. he’s slowly getting up there with my favourite batboys im so serious abt that. why’s he abt to dethrone dick
“Five minutes.”
“Two,” you argue, arms crossed as you face your boyfriend in the fiction section of the bookstore. “We each have two minutes to pick out a book for each other and it has to be something we haven’t read yet.”
Tim frowns at you. “Why not five minutes?”
“I don’t trust you,” you scoff, brushing past him in search of the mystery section. “It has to be spontaneous, so don’t think too hard. Shouldn't be too difficult for you.”
Tim gapes at you and you dodge his grabby hands with a cheeky grin, stepping away hastily. He narrows his eyes, pretending to be deep in thought. “Do normal couples insult each other on dates?”
You shrug, pulling out your phone. “Not sure. All I know is that we absolutely do,” you say, setting a timer for two minutes and waving it in his face. Tim smirks, rolling his sleeves up like he’s about to engage in strenuous physical activity. “Ready? Set… go!”
The two of you dart through the aisles like you’re tracking one of Gotham’s most wanted instead of paperbacks. A few customers give you funny looks when you scour through the shelves with such intensity, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. Especially when you spot Tim flipping through titles in the fiction section at an alarming speed.
“Are you skimming through whole pages right now?” you accuse him with a gasp.
He barely looks up. “Maybe.”
“Wh- That’s cheating!”
Tim scrunches up his nose like he doesn’t understand you. “I’m optimising my search process.”
You groan, dropping your face into your free hand. “I’m dating a psycho nerd. Wait, no, I’m dating a Sherlock Holmes wannabe.”
He finally looks up, corners of his lips lifting up into a mischievous grin. You lift up a hand, stopping him in his tracks.
“Not the sexy version.”
“Says you,” he shoots back, slotting the books back into the shelves, all but one, as the timer goes off.
You whip out your phone to stop the offending alarm noise and keep your chosen book tucked behind your back as you begin walking backwards. “Times up, pretty boy,” you taunt him, a sweet smile gracing your face when you see the faint blush creeping up his neck at the nickname. “Meet you outside with the books?”
“Hm, get ready to lose.”
“This wasn’t a competition,” you laugh, unsurprised at his combative nature, heading to the counter to get checked out. You quickly bag up your book and head outside to wait for Tim, patiently leaning against the wall outside the store.
A couple of minutes later, he steps out with his own bag and the look on his face has you narrowing your eyes. “What’s in the bag, Timothy?”
“Books,” he replies innocently. You reach past him to get to the bag and yank at it. It’s heavy.
“We said one,” you gasp, grabbing the bag and pulling out book by book. “How the hell did you sneak these up there? I didn’t even see the rest of these.”
He raises his eyebrows at you as if to ask, ‘do you know who you’re talking to right now?’
Your heart flutters and you look up at him, speechless. You don’t usually find money an attractive quality, but knowing he definitely didn’t think twice before spending his on the multiple hardcover copies and gilded edges has you feeling all tingly.
The more you look at him, the more sheepish he becomes, rubbing the back of his neck and looking almost… shy. “I couldn’t pick just one.”
“Alright, let’s go home,” you sigh, patting his chest. “I’m cutting this date short.”
“Are- are you mad at me?”
“Nope.” You place your hands on his shoulders and lean in to press a short, but very appreciative kiss to his lips. When you pull away, he’s even more noticeably flustered. “I’m not mad. I’m the other thing. Home?”
Tim sobers up quick, grasping your hand and practically dragging you down the street. “Home.”
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a/n cont.; reader to tim:
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servndipityz · 1 day ago
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namgyu with alternative reader? perchance.. smut🫶🫶😁
a/n ── i'm so nervous about this one! i hope i didn't do a terrible job on portraying alt culture (i know nothing about it). i kinda tried to make it not super specific so anyone can feel identified. again, sorry if it's lowkey bad. it's also my first time writing smut, believe it or not, but i've had years of experience reading it so i don't think it's that bad. enjoy :)
STRIPPED
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warnings ── smut, +18 MDNI!!! porn w plot. drug usage, sex under the influence, sex in a club, fingering, orgasm denial, degradation, light choking, kinda brat taming? p in v, unprotected sex, creampie.
word count ── 4.6k
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he'd ended up there. of course, he'd ended up there. only someone as unlucky as him could wind up at some fucking goth party. or punk. or… whatever. he didn't really care about the whole thing—the dramatic makeup, the dyed hair, the incredibly loud music blaring through the club. none of it.
nam-gyu had envisioned a chill night on his free day, but no. of course, his co-worker had to get sick. of course, nam-gyu owed him money for the pills he'd given him last week. of course, he had to cover for him that night.
and, of course, it was alternative night at club pentagon. usually, his co-worker handled these kinds of nights—special events, themed parties, all that.
what did nam-gyu know about alternative culture anyway? he wondered the same thing as he weaved through the crowd, making sure everyone was having a good time, keeping an eye on bar sales.
so far, he'd been stepped on twice—not too bad, except when it came from one of those platform boots everyone seemed to be wearing. those hurt like hell. but at least the night was going smoothly. for now.
so good, in fact, that nam-gyu figured it was time for a drink. he'd been working for hours, making sure this party ran smoothly. he owed that co-worker a lot of drug money, and this was the only way to settle it. it’s not like he’d ever do this out of the kindness of his heart.
he made his way to the nearest counter, resting his elbows on the cool marble as he waited for someone to take his order. he couldn't help but wonder how anyone could actually dance to this loud-ass english music that sounded more like screaming. he'd take the regular techno dj any day.
meanwhile, you finished pouring a vodka red bull and handed it off to yet another customer. that's when you noticed him.
he stood out—not in a good way.
hunched over the counter, inspecting it like he might find some cocaine stuck in it (which, honestly, he probably would if he looked hard enough), looking like a wet rat. his clothes gave him away. who even let him in like that? plain black shirt, black jeans, a couple of rings.
he looked up as you approached.
his first thought was that your leather top made your tits poke out. his second was that, without all that emo makeup, you'd actually be pretty cute.
his third was what the highest-alcohol-content drink he could order was.
he opened his mouth to ask, eyes flicking to the bottles behind you—
but you spoke first.
"you're ruining the vibe, man."
he frowned, caught off guard.
you just raised an eyebrow, speaking over the loud music. "i said, you're ruining the vibe."
"i'm not doing anything," he scoffed, annoyed. he just wanted to order his damn drink. last thing he needed was some lecture.
"exactly," you said. "you don't belong here. what are you even doing?"
not like you actually cared. you were here to do your job, bartend, make money, go home. but this guy—standing there, stiff shoulders, sharp jawline, judging everything and everyone, probably without even realizing it—looking at you like that, eyes dragging over you like you were some kind of curiosity—
yeah. he rubbed you the wrong way.
being alternative, you already got judged enough. the last thing you needed was someone doing it at an alternative party.
he frowned even further. "i'm here to work. not that it's any of your business."
that caught you off guard for a second. "you work here?" your head tilted, curiosity slipping into your tone. you leaned over the counter, the neckline of your top shifting just a little lower. who knew—if this guy was someone important, you had to use all your charms. especially after being so rude. "i've never seen you around, and i always bartender at these kinds of parties."
his gaze flickered down your cleavage before snapping back to your eyes. but you saw it. the way his jaw clenched, the way he suddenly looked more annoyed than before—like he was mad at himself for looking.
"i'm not thrilled either," he mumbled, clearly uninterested in conversation. "just covering for a friend. now, could you actually do your job and get me something to drink?"
you bristled at his tone, raising a brow as you turned to the shelves of bottles. "jeez, someone's grumpy. what can i get you?"
in reality, nam-gyu wasn't grumpy. well, he was, but that was just how he was. it was just... for some reason, you made him nervous. the girls he usually dealt with at clubs were boring bitches trying to get a VIP card or whatever drugs he had in his pocket.
you were the opposite. rude. annoying. and he didn’t like that. but for some reason, it made his blood rush somewhere else, clouding his brain.
"just give me a shot," he said after a pause. "something strong."
you turned your head slightly, a smile playing on your lips—the kind that sent a shiver down his spine. you walked back to the counter, reaching for a bottle hidden underneath.
"drinking on the job?" you asked while pouring the liquid into a shot glass, then casually grabbing a second one.
nam-gyu let out a short, amused huff. if drinking was the worst thing he’d done on the job, he’d be in a much better place. but he watched curiously as you poured the second shot, his eyes flicking up through his lashes, brow slightly raised.
"what?" you asked playfully. "if you’re doing it, so can i."
you finally set the bottle back and raised your glass. he mirrored you, his eyes never leaving yours. there was something in his expression—almost a smile. you entertained him.
"cheers," you said, clinking your glass against his before downing the shot in one go. he followed suit, setting the glass back on the counter, suppressing a grimace at the sharp burn of alcohol.
“so,” you said, clearing your throat slightly after the shot. “who’s the friend you’re covering for?”
nam-gyu said the name, and your eyes widened.
“that junkie, huh?” you smirked. he chuckled. “yeah, i know him. he’s a little more talkative than you, though.”
nam-gyu narrowed his eyes. “what’s that supposed to mean?”
“nothing. it’s okay to be shy.” your voice was innocent, teasing, calculated. you'd decided that you'd had enough, that you might as well have some fun. “anyway, my shift’s almost over. wanna get out of here?”
“i’m not shy.” he sounded offended, then glanced away, considering your offer. “and i told you, i’m working.”
you huffed. “fine. just needed someone to smoke this with." you reached into your back pocket and pulled out a tiny zip-lock bag filled with greens. "guess i'll have to find somebody else."
now that caught his attention. maybe almost as much as your exposed skin did. suddenly, he was interested. but also suspicious.
“what do you have?” he asked, leaning slightly over the counter, his voice lower, more serious.
“your junkie friend gave it to me for a gig i did. said it’s good shit.” you shrugged, playing it cool, acting uninterested—like you didn’t know exactly what you were doing. and he took the bait.
“why would you wanna share it with me?” he still sounded wary, but there was something else in his tone now. curiosity. maybe even something close to interest.
you groaned dramatically. “look, i’m heading to the staff room. you coming or not?” you said, already turning away, signaling to your co-worker that your shift was over.
now, nam-gyu didn’t need weed. not exactly. he could probably find ten of those zip-lock bags hidden in his place, forgotten in favor of other, harder drugs. but he also wasn’t the kind of guy to say no to free drugs.
especially not from such a petty girl.
you grinned to yourself as you felt him rush to walk behind you, trailing after you through the club like he didn’t know the way like the back of his hand.
as you reached the hallway leading to the staff room, nam-gyu couldn’t help but let his gaze linger on your half-ripped fishnets, the way they framed your legs under that short black skirt. was he here for the weed or for you? he wasn’t really sure, and he didn’t care much.
you finally reached the door, slipping past a few couples too caught up in each other to notice, and he shut it behind him. the staff room was small, dingy, and reeked of bleach and cigarette smoke, but you still sank onto the worn-out sofa next to the table like it was the most comfortable place in the world.
you leaned back, stretching your legs out just enough for your skirt to ride up slightly. not too much—just enough to make him notice. and he did.
nam-gyu stood near the door for a second, like he was reconsidering this, before scoffing to himself and dropping onto the couch beside you. he was close, not touching, but enough that the warmth of him was noticeable. enough that when he exhaled, you could feel the faintest brush of his breath against your shoulder.
"roll it," he said, nodding at the bag in your hand.
you raised an eyebrow. "you're really bad at asking nicely, huh?"
he just looked at you, serious. "you’re really bad at shutting up."
that made you laugh. he was watching you now—really watching you—as you pulled out the papers, fingers working effortlessly, licking the edge just to see his reaction. you weren’t disappointed. his jaw flexed again, his eyes dark, tracking your every move like he was trying to pretend he didn’t care. like he wasn’t already leaning back, manspreading, trying to act like he had the upper hand here.
cute.
you tucked the blunt between your lips, lighting it, taking a slow drag before passing it to him.
nam-gyu hesitated, just for a split second, then took it, bringing it to his mouth. his fingers brushed yours in the handoff, and it was stupid how that tiny touch sent something sharp down your spine. or maybe it was just the way he inhaled, head tilting back, exposing the sharp line of his throat as he exhaled, smoke curling lazily from his lips.
you licked yours.
the weed hit, slow and warm. the music outside was muffled, the sounds of the party fading into the background, leaving only this—dim lighting, the scent of smoke and alcohol and something else, something charged.
"you always do this?" nam-gyu asked after a beat, voice lower, lazier. "lure random guys into the staff room for a smoke?"
you smirked, tilting your head. "only the rude ones."
he huffed, shaking his head, but you saw the corner of his mouth twitch like he was trying not to smile. he passed the blunt back, his fingers lingering just a second longer this time. you let them.
the room felt smaller. warmer.
"you always this uptight?" you asked, taking another slow hit. "or just with me?"
nam-gyu let his head roll against the back of the couch, watching you through heavy-lidded eyes. "you always this annoying? or just with me?"
you exhaled smoke, letting it curl between you. "you like it."
he didn’t answer. but he also didn’t look away.
you were both leaning back now, legs almost brushing, breaths slow and measured like you were both pretending not to notice the heat building between you.
nam-gyu wet his lips, head still resting against the couch, eyes flicking to your mouth before he caught himself and looked away. like it was a habit. like he was trying so fucking hard not to slip.
you took one last hit before stubbing out the blunt in the ashtray beside you. then, shifting slightly, you turned toward him, letting your knee press against his thigh. deliberate. slow. testing.
"you're staring," you murmured.
he scoffed, but it came out weaker than he probably meant. his hands clenched into fists on his thighs like he was keeping himself still on purpose.
"you’re high," he muttered, looking away.
"so are you." you tilted your head, voice dropping, playing with the edge of your ripped fishnets like you weren’t watching the way his gaze followed the movement of your fingers. "and what, does that mean i can’t see the way you’ve been looking at me all night?"
nam-gyu exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his hair. "i haven’t been—"
"you have," you cut in smoothly, shifting closer, feeling the warmth of his body now, solid and tense. "you’re mad about it. i can tell."
his jaw clenched.
"tell me," you purred. "are you mad because you don’t like it? or mad because you do?"
his fingers twitched on his thigh. his breathing was heavier, controlled, like he was still fighting it. fighting you.
so you leaned in, lips just close enough to ghost over his ear. "it’s okay," you whispered. "you can touch me."
and that was it.
nam-gyu moved so fast you barely had time to smirk before he grabbed you by the back of the neck, his lips crashing into yours, hot and desperate, all teeth and pent-up frustration. his other hand found your waist, yanking you onto his lap, and fuck—he wasn’t holding back anymore.
he was done fighting it.
and so were you.
his lips were all heat, all pressure—nothing hesitant, nothing soft. you barely had a second to adjust before his teeth caught your bottom lip, his fingers gripping the nape of your neck like he wanted to own you. his other hand, firm on your waist, yanked you flush against him, and fuck—he was hard.
not that he acknowledged it. not that he’d ever admit that you’d done this to him.
your knees bracketed his hips as you settled onto his lap, rolling your hips down just enough to feel him. his grip tightened, nails digging into the meat of your waist. he hissed against your mouth—half warning, half surrender.
“you don’t play fair,” he muttered, lips grazing your jaw now, teeth scraping skin, testing.
your fingers tangled into his hair, tugging hard enough to make him grunt. “neither do you.”
his hands dropped—one to your thigh, sliding under your skirt, fisting in the torn mesh of your fishnets. the other traced the curve of your ass before shoving you down against him again, this time deliberate, a slow grind that made both of you exhale sharp.
his breath was uneven, warm against your throat. “you think i haven’t noticed?” his fingers curled, gripping tight enough to bruise. “the way you’ve been—” a sharp pull at the fishnets, a rip, cool air hitting skin—“fucking teasing me?”
you laughed, half-gasping when his tongue flicked against the pulse at your neck.
his fingers dipped, pressing against the damp heat of your panties, no patience, no hesitation. his other hand was now tangled in your hair, keeping you locked right where he wanted—breath hitching as he rubbed slow, teasing.
then his hand moved, fingers slipping beneath the fabric, warm against your skin, sliding between your thighs. the first touch was barely there, just a single fingertip running along your slit, slow, teasing.
you squirmed, but he didn’t let you go. “look at you,” he murmured, mocking, the pad of his finger dragging over your cunt, pressing just enough to make you shudder. “all that attitude, but you’re already—” he exhaled sharply, felt it before he even had to say it—so fucking wet.
"fuck," he muttered, more to himself than to you, his forehead resting against yours for a second like he was trying to collect himself. but his fingers were still moving, sliding along the slickness of you, testing, exploring, spreading it just enough to make you squirm.
"yeah?" you murmured, voice breathy, teasing. "you like that?"
his only response was a low, quiet curse under his breath before he pressed his fingers in deeper, the tips just barely pushing inside before pulling back, slow and torturous. he was watching you now, eyes dark and half-lidded.
and then, without warning, he slid one finger in, slow but firm, curling just enough to make your breath catch. your nails dug into his shoulders, and his other hand tightened on your hip, holding you steady.
"fuck," you whispered, rolling your hips into his touch, chasing it, needing more.
nam-gyu chuckled, low and smug, and then he added a second finger, stretching you just a little more, fucking you slow and deep with just his hand. the angle was perfect, his fingers pressing against that spot inside you that made your toes curl, made your breath come faster, needier.
"you’re so fucking tight," he murmured, more fascinated than anything, watching the way his fingers disappeared inside you, the way you clenched around them. he twisted his wrist slightly, his palm pressing against your clit as he fucked you with his fingers, setting a rhythm that had you grinding against him, chasing that pressure.
your moan was quiet but desperate, and he smirked, eyes flicking up to yours.
"you always this easy?" he murmured, his voice taunting, dark.
you opened your mouth to snap something back, but then he crooked his fingers just right, pressing deeper, and your words dissolved into a gasp, your head tipping back. his lips were on your throat a second later, sucking, biting, leaving marks you’d have to cover up later.
his pace picked up, fucking you harder with just his fingers, each drag of his palm against your clit sending another sharp wave of heat curling low in your stomach. the room was quiet except for the sound of your breathy moans, his heavier breathing, the slick sounds of his fingers working you open.
"you gonna come?" he murmured against your skin, his voice rough now, strained.
you swallowed hard, your fingers tightening in his hair, nails scraping against his scalp. "fuck—don’t stop," you breathed.
nam-gyu felt it—felt the way your body tensed, the way your thighs shook against his hips, the way you were right there, so fucking close. he could see it too, in the way your mouth parted, in the soft, breathy little gasps escaping your lips, the ones you were trying to swallow back like you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.
but he wasn’t that generous.
just when you thought he’d let you tip over, when your body clenched down around his fingers so tight he could barely move them, he pulled away.
just—gone.
the sudden loss was so sharp, so fucking unfair, that you let out a frustrated, needy little whine before you could stop yourself, your hips rolling forward, chasing after the feeling, after his hand, anything. but nam-gyu just sat back, bringing his wet fingers up to his lips, slipping them into his mouth with a slow, deliberate hum.
"mm," he mused, tongue flicking over them, eyes locked on yours. "not bad."
"are you fucking kidding me?" you were panting, legs still shaking where you straddled him, your body on fire, needing more, needing anything. your eyes flashed, your hands curling into fists against his chest like you were two seconds away from either punching him or ripping his shirt off.
he just smirked. "what?"
"you—" you gritted your teeth, your nails digging into the fabric of his shirt. "you’re such a fucking asshole."
nam-gyu chuckled, low and lazy, his hands dragging up your thighs again, thumbs pressing into the soft flesh just to remind you he still had you exactly where he wanted you. "maybe, but you're still here," he murmured. "still dripping for me."
"yeah, because you didn’t let me cum, you dick," you snapped, rocking forward again, grinding against him, feeling the hard, thick press of him through his pants. he was just as worked up as you were, and you could tell—he was trying to play it cool, but his breathing was heavier, his fingers twitching against your skin like he was barely holding himself back.
that made you smirk. "ohhh," you taunted, rolling your hips again, slower this time, watching his jaw clench. "that’s why, huh? you’re hard as fuck and don’t wanna finish before i do."
his eyes darkened, his grip tightening on your hips. "watch your fucking mouth."
"or what?" you leaned in, brushing your lips against his ear, letting your breath tickle his skin. "you gonna do something about it?"
that was it.
one second you were teasing him, playing your little game, and the next you were flat on your back, your spine pressing into the shitty, worn-out couch, his body caging you in. his hand was already shoving your skirt up, fingers hooking into your panties and dragging them down your thighs, not even bothering to be careful.
"you talk too much," he muttered, voice rough, breath hot against your jaw.
"and you do too little," you shot back, just to push him, just to make him snap again.
it worked.
his hand was on your throat, not squeezing, just there, just pressing, just reminding you that he could if he wanted to. his other hand yanked at his belt, the metal buckle clinking as he undid his pants, as he shoved them down just enough to free himself.
fuck.
you’d felt it before, pressing against you, teasing, but now you saw it. thick, flushed, leaking at the tip, the kind of length that made your thighs press together instinctively, made you bite your lip even as you refused to let him see you flustered.
nam-gyu saw it anyway.
"knew you wanted it," he muttered, running the head of his cock along your slit, dragging it slow through your wetness. "acting like a brat, but your pussy’s already begging."
"shut the fuck up and—"
he pushed in, just an inch, just enough to make you gasp, make your nails dig into his arms.
"yeah?" he exhaled sharply, his jaw tight, like he was already holding himself back. "that what you wanted?"
you barely had time to adjust before he thrust forward again, burying himself deep, stretching you in one slow stroke that left your back arching, your head tipping back against the couch.
"fuck—"
nam-gyu groaned, low and almost desperate, his forehead pressing against yours as he bottomed out, as he let you feel every fucking inch of him.
"you feel that?" he murmured, breath ragged, his hips rolling just a little, just enough to make you whimper. "how tight you are? how you’re fucking squeezing me?"
you couldn’t answer. you couldn’t think. all you could do was feel—the way he filled you, the way he stretched you, the way he stayed there for a second, teasing, waiting, making you want it more.
you swallowed, trying to catch your breath. "you gonna move, or you just like teasing your own dick?"
his laugh was low. then he pulled back and slammed into you, knocking the breath from your lungs.
"fuck—"
your back was pressed against the couch, legs spread wide, thighs trembling as he held you open. his body caged yours beneath him, one hand pinning your wrists above your head, the other gripping your hip, keeping you still as he drove into you with rough, unforgiving thrusts. his cock filled you completely—thick, hot, deep—dragging against every sensitive spot inside you, making you gasp with each desperate slap of his hips against yours.
"you gonna be good now?" his voice was low, ragged, dark with amusement. his grip tightened, fingers digging bruises into your skin. "or you still wanna run your mouth?"
you tried. you really did. you opened your lips to snap something back—something mean, something cutting, something to remind him you weren’t easy to break.
but all that came out was a choked moan as he grabbed your chin, forcing your gaze to meet his.
"that’s what i thought," he murmured against your lips, his breath hot, his mouth just barely brushing yours, teasing. "bratty little thing—talking shit. but look at you now."
his hand wrapped around your throat, fingers pressing just enough to keep you in place. not squeezing. just controlling. just owning. his other hand slipped between your bodies, two fingers finding your clit, rubbing slow, teasing circles over the swollen bud.
"fuck," you gasped, your hips rolling up instinctively, chasing that pressure, that friction.
nam-gyu chuckled, low and smug. "yeah? you like that?"
you wanted to tell him to fuck off. you really did.
but then he twisted his fingers just right, his cock hitting that spot inside you at the same time, and your body jerked, your moan breaking into something desperate.
"that’s it," he murmured, his lips brushing against your jaw, his pace still brutal, relentless. "don’t fight it. you wanna cum, don’t you?"
"yes—yeah," you panted, nails scraping against his wrist where he held your throat.
he pulled back suddenly, dragging his cock out until only the tip remained, making you whimper at the loss. his fingers abandoned your clit, and before you could protest, he did something worse—something filthier.
he spat.
the wet warmth of it landed directly on your pussy, slick and obscene. your whole body jolted.
"fuck—" your breath stuttered, your back arching as heat shot through you.
nam-gyu groaned at the sight, at the way you clenched, the way your body reacted so instantly, so helplessly.
"you like that, huh?" his voice was thick with satisfaction, his fingers dragging through the mess, smearing it over you, rubbing it in slow, teasing circles.
you shouldn’t. you really shouldn’t.
but the heat in your stomach coiled even tighter.
"say it," he ordered, his voice rough, his cock pushing back inside you, stretching you open again, slow and deep, making you feel every inch. "tell me you fucking love it."
your pride cracked. your body betrayed you.
"fuck—i love it," you gasped.
nam-gyu groaned, his breath hitching, his pace quickening. "good girl."
and then his fingers returned, rubbing messy circles over your spit-slicked clit, matching the rhythm of his thrusts, pushing you higher, harder—
you were already close. too close.
"fuck—fuck, i’m gonna cum," you choked out, hips jerking against his hand, against his cock, chasing it. "please—please don’t stop—"
and this time he didn’t.
he fucked you through it, his fingers never letting up, his pace relentless, driving you higher, harder, until it finally snapped—
your orgasm hit like a fucking wrecking ball.
your body clenched down on him so tight he cursed under his breath, his rhythm faltering for the first time. the pleasure crashed over you, your whole body shaking as you moaned through it, loud and wrecked, the sound swallowed by the shitty little staff room.
"fuck—fuck, yeah, that’s it," nam-gyu groaned, his grip on your hips bruising now, his thrusts rough and desperate as he chased his own release. "god, you feel so fucking good—"
he buried himself deep, his breath stuttering, his cock twitching inside you, and then he was coming, his grip tightening, his forehead pressing against your shoulder as he groaned low into your skin.
for a second, all you could hear was the ragged sound of your breathing, the quiet hum of the party outside, the distant bass thudding through the walls.
nam-gyu exhaled, slow and shaky, his fingers tracing lazy circles against your waist, still holding you, still pressed against you.
then he pulled out, groaning at the sight of his cum spilling out of you, dripping between your thighs.
he smirked, dragging a lazy finger through it before pressing it against your lips.
"open," he murmured.
you did.
and fuck, the look in his eyes when you sucked it clean—
you were so fucked.
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darlingdaisyfarm · 2 days ago
Note
Listen I’m going insane from how you write Stan and been rereading your spicy chatting headcanons and…. Am I too greedy if I’ll ask for sex call with him?? 🥲
when the pervy old man meets his match
tags: smut, nsfw, fem reader, phone sex, competitive dirty talk, established relationship, reader is just as much of a menace as Stan
hey honey thank you so much! here it is! it's honestly just full of dialogues lmao. sorry i wrote this in a depraved frenzy and did not look back. if there are mistakes, pretend you don’t see them. if it’s too filthy, no it’s not<3 mb I'll correct it later
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your phone rings and it's midnight. a little devilish smile appears on your lips. you know exactly who it is.
“finally,” you purr, picking up. “was wondering how long it’d take for you to crack, old man.”
“tch. crack?” Stan scoffs. “sweetheart, i was givin' you a chance to call first. figured you’d get too desperate to wait.”
you smirk, rolling onto your back. ”oh, is that what you think?”
“i know it.” he laughs. “ain’t had my hands on ya in three whole days. bet you’re losin’ your goddamn mind over it.”
cocky bastard.
“hmm,” you hum in amusement. “who said i haven’t had my hands on myself instead?”
“heh, sure, doll, then you just laid there all frustrated, wishin’ it was me instead of your hand.”
“oh, no, Stan,” you interrupt innocently. “i came.” he stops breathing. “mm, and it felt so good, too, made such a mess. you would’ve loved it.”
Stanley goes silent. oh, you’ve got him now. “. . . the fuck’d you just say?”
you stretch out on the bed, imagining the look on his face. jaw tight. eyes dark. grip white-knuckling his phone.
“you heard me,” you coo. “been keeping myself nice and satisfied while you’re gone.”
a lie. a blatant, filthy lie. of course you want him. but you won’t say that. not yet.
“what’s the matter?” you murmur, teasing. “dont tell me. . . you jealous of my fingers?”
Stan lets out a harsh breath. “yeah, actually,” he growls. “bet they don’t even get the job done right and you still finish all needy and desperate, just wishin’ it was my cock instead.”
fuck. your breath hitches slightly, so tiny, but Stan hears it.
“. . . ohhh, that gotcha, huh?” his voice dips, turning low. “ya can play all confident, sweetheart, act like ya ain’t fuckin’ sufferin’ without me, like ya ain’t practically drippin’ just hearin’ my voice—“
you swallow. hard. your smile fades from your confident face
“but we both know the truth, don’t we?”
no, you don't give up. “you sound real worked up, Stanley. do you need me to take care of it for you?”
a sharp inhale from the other end. “heh,” he grits out. “you wish.”
“yeah, sounds like you’re getting all hot and bothered over there. you’re already touching yourself, huh? couldn’t help it?”
“hah,” Stan scoffs, but his voice sounds weaker now. oh, you’re winning.
“c’mon, baby,” you whisper in a honey-sweet voice. “tell me. are you hard?”
he exhales through his teeth. “maybe.”
“aw, poor Stanley, been away from me too long, huh? you must be so worked up, all desperate and aching. . .”
Stan grins. “sweetheart, i’m a grown-ass man. i ain’t desperate for anything.”
you pause long enough to make his skin prickle. then softly and slowly you say quietly “so you’re not hard right now?”
fuck. his body betrays him instantly. because, obviously he is. painfully so. has been since the second he heard your voice, if he’s being honest. but like hell is he gonna admit that to you.
“nah,” he lies too quickly.
you giggle. “liar.”
“shut up,” he mutters.
“sorry, Stanley, i cant shut up, thinking about how i’d drop to my knees for you, pull your pants down real slow, press my tongue right up against that thick cock and—”
“oh, for fuck’s sake—“
“you’d be so sensitive, all needy and throbbing for me. i could get you begging in five minutes.”
“like hell you could!”
your laugh is pure evil. “oh, really?” Stan knows that tone, he’s in trouble. “wanna prove it, old man?”
Stan grits his teeth. “you little minx,” he growls. “fine. you wanna play? we play. wanna know what i think?” your stomach tightens, you're so not ready to hear that. but it's so damn sexy when he gets like that. “i know you’re sittin’ there all wet and needy, waitin’ for me to take over.”
your breath catches as your fingers start moving faster.
“aww, see? can hear it in your breath, baby. you love lettin’ me take control, huh? love bein’ my little plaything?”
you grip the sheets.
“y’think about my cock, huh?” that bastard teases. ”you ache for it and dream about me splittin’ you open, fuckin’ you deep ‘til you cry.”
your thighs press together as you try to bring yourself to orgasm while he talks.
“tell me, baby, what’s your favorite way for me to fuck ya?”
you stop for a second, breathing. “. . .i dunno, you tell me.”
Stan groans and laughs. “that’s what i thought. you like it every way i give it to ya. you like gettin’ thrown around, pinned down, bent over. like when i take my time, when i tease, when i make you beg for it. like when i spread your legs and fuck ya slow, so deep your little cunt flutters around me, just tryin’ to suck me in.”
you let out a quiet sob, rubbing your clit harder. shit. okay. he came prepared.
“remember the last time i had ya?” fuck. he's dirty for this. “spread ya out on the kitchen table, pushed those pretty little legs open, had ya beggin' for my cock while i just tapped it against that messy little cunt.”
heat spikes through your belly. your brain melting
“and you were so fuckin’ wet, so messy for me. couldn't even hold still. had to pin ya down, keep ya in place, make ya take it nice and deep. and god, the way ya screamed when i finally gave it to ya,” he groans, pumping his twitching cock. “cried so pretty for me, took every single inch like a good fuckin’ girl.”
you exhale.
“aw, babyy,” Stan mocks. “gettin’ all squirmy over there? miss me poundin’ that tight little cunt open? miss feelin’ my cock knockin’ up against your cervix?”
oh, this bastard. he knows exactly what he’s doing. knows how to talk you into a goddamn frenzy, how to drag you through every memory, making you feel it all over again. but you won’t let him win.
“eh, big talk for a man who passed out immediately after a blowjob.”
Stan huffs.
“it's just,” you muse. “i think i might need to find someone who can actually keep up with me.”
“sweetheart,” he growls. “don't fuckin' start with me.”
you grin. “what, old man? afraid someone else could fuck me better?”
“honestly, you're such a fucking brat.” he mutters resentfully.
“and you're all alone, jerking off to the thought of me like some pathetic old pervert.”
Stan groans and that sound makes you clench around nothing.
“hehe, you stroking it, old man? pumping that fat cock real slow, thinkin’ about how tight my pussy is?”
his eyes widen. wow. . . you're too brave today. he likes that. “sweet moses,” you hear him groaning.
“tell me, baby, am i right? it's throbbing? just begging to be buried inside me?”
“fuckin’ hell,” Stan hisses. “fuck, f-fuck, shit. . .”
wide cocky smile appears on your face. oh you love this. love how you can hear the tension in his breath, imagining how he’s gripping himself too tight, trying to hold on, trying not to lose.
but he’s gonna. he’s so gonna.
“y’know what i was thinking about earlier?” you murmur.
Stan swallows. “wh-what?”
you grin. “how deep you get when you fuck me.” Stan's response is low whimper when he circles his leaking tip with his fingers. “no, seriously, you stretch me so wide, Stanley. get all the way up against my cervix, push me down into the mattress, just ruining me. i love hearing your groans when i bite your shoulder.”
his breathing is much heavier now, he's already so close.
“Stanley? you close?“
“y-you’re gonna fuckin’ regret this,” he grits out.
“what’s wrong, old man? you were all big and bad a second ago. now ya can’t even keep up? i know how bad you want it, how much you miss the way i take you so deep, so tight”
Stanley is so fucking close.
“you’re leaking, huh? and you’re still trying to hold back,” another mocking sympathy from you. “so stubborn, determined not to let me win. guess i’ll just have to break you, then. oh yeah,” you laugh when you hear another moan from him. “that gotcha, huh? i know you’d love that, you’d love me getting on top, riding you all slow and deep, keeping you right on the edge ‘till you’re begging me for it, begging me to let you cum inside of me.”
“f-fuck, baby, just. . . just like that,” his voice is shaking.
“you gonna cum, Stan? gonna make a mess all over yourself just from hearing my voice?”
“you—fuck—you little—”
suddenly his phone vibrates with a notification. you just sent him a photo.
he barely has time to open it before he sees you, spread out as you fuck yourself open on your fingers.
Stan sucks in a sharp breath. “what. . . the fuck”
“somethin’ wrong?” you coo.
silence, hes silent until you hear choked loud “oh oh oh, fuckkk” and you know he lost, so fucking hard. his orgasm hits hard, violent, brain-melting, his body tensing, groaning your name through gritted teeth. you hear the sharp inhale, the shaky breath, the low, drawn-out moan as he spills messy over his fist.
“awww, couldn’t hold out, huh?”
Stan pants, breathless. “fuck you.”
“you wish,” you smirk, giggling.
“okay okay. you won.” Stanley admits, rubbing his sweaty forehead. “you won, baby.”
“but you put up a good fight, old man!”
he groans. “hot belgian waffles, what the hell am i gonna do with you?”
“maybe bend me over the second you get home and teach me a lesson?”
Stan chuckles. “oh, sweetheart, you have no idea what you just signed up for.”
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emsdevs · 1 day ago
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I’m a sucker for Angst, so a heaviest of heavy Angst will always do it for me, like I need my insides to feel like it’s being stabbed and overwhelmed with all sort of emotions. Bonus point if it’s long. Hope this isn’t too much to ask for maybe I’m getting too carried away loll Could you do it with Justin Herbert please?
No Strings?
a/n: nonnie you sent this at the perfect time! I've had justin on my schedule for a while, but couldn't figure out what to write for him, so this worked out perfectly! this does not have a happy ending but i might be open to a part two if enough people want it. enjoyyyy :)
masterlist | NFL Masterlists | Justin Herbert Masterlist
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You swore you could handle casual. When you started whatever you had going on with Justin, you swore you were the kind of person who could have a casual relationship, but now you aren’t so sure. When Justin asked you out four months ago, you never would’ve expected to be where you are now. It had all been going so well. The dates had been everything you could’ve asked for and more, and Justin was the perfect gentleman. It all began to go downhill after your third date. You had invited Justin into your apartment when he dropped you off, your intentions clear, and he had followed you inside. You two had been sitting on the couch when things began to get serious, the kiss you were sharing heating up.
Justin pulled away, looking slightly guilty. “I feel like I need to be honest with you about something before this goes any further.”
“Um, yeah, okay,” you were a little confused, but you let him speak.
“Look, because of the job I have, I really can’t do anything serious right now. I know I’ve probably led you on a little bit, but I swear I’ve never had any intentions to hurt you,” he stared at you, looking nervous.
“That’s okay!” you speak up too quickly for your liking. “We don’t have to stop unless that’s what you want. I can do casual.” Surely, you could. It couldn’t be that different from a normal relationship.
“You sure? I don’t wanna overstep if casual isn’t something you’re comfortable with.”
“Yeah, of course. No strings attached. Just having fun.”
As Justin leaned back in, you were thinking that this could definitely work. Justin was great, and this would keep him in your life without overstepping any boundaries. You could do casual.
~~
Turns out, you can’t do casual. You’ve been trying to stay normal, but you realized two days ago that you were falling for Justin, hard. You’d been keeping it to yourself, not wanting to scare him away, but it’s getting more and more difficult. He’s just so sweet, and the things he tends to do for you simply cannot be casual.
Is it casual when he plays with the ends of your hair before you get out of bed in the morning? Is it casual for him, even though he keeps all your favorite snacks at his place for when you have movie nights? If it’s casual, why does he keep a drawer free so you have space to keep a few clothes at his place? If it’s casual, why does he know you better than you know yourself? Why has he gotten you your favorite flowers every two weeks since you went on that first date with him? Why does he know “How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days” is the perfect movie to cheer you up after a long day? If it’s casual for him, why is he acting like he’s in love with you?
Eventually, it had gotten to a point where you couldn’t stand lying to him or yourself anymore. After four months of no strings, you had to talk to him. You finally got the chance one night when he invited you over for a movie night. Before the movie got started, you decided it was time to break the news.
“Justin… I actually think we need to talk,” you wiped your hands on your pants, feeling them already starting to sweat from the nerves.
“Oh! Uh, yeah, sure. What’s up?”
“I just really need to say this, and I know you probably won’t like it, but I need you to listen until I finish,” you pause, waiting for him to nod. “Okay, so, I just feel like we’ve definitely crossed some lines in this arrangement, ya know? Like we both have a drawer at each other’s places. We’re spending the night together, and sometimes, we hang out without even having sex. I just… this isn’t what we originally agreed to,” you were avoiding saying what you were truly feeling.
“So we’ll step back some? I don’t know. That doesn’t seem like something to be worried abou-”
“I caught feelings for you, Justin,” he just stares at you, shocked, “I know we said no feelings, but we’ve just gotten a little too close. We don’t have to stop or anything. I’m a big girl. I can handle-”
“No. No, we should stop,” he cuts you off, and it’s your turn to stare.
“Seriously?”
“We said no strings. I told you I can’t do relationships because of my job. If you have feelings for me, this needs to stop now before it can get worse.”
“Right,” you stood robotically, grabbing your things and walking out of Justin’s house with tears in your eyes. The worst part? He didn’t even try to stop you. Somehow, with one sentence, you ruined something that could’ve been so good for you, that had been so good for you.
~~
Now, it had been three months since that night, and you hadn’t spoken to Justin since. You’ve been going through the motions, just doing a fairly normal routine to make it through your day. You wake up, get dressed, go home, shower, cry while you eat your sorrows away, sleep, and then do it all again the next day. Nothing has felt right since your breakup with Justin, if that’s what you would even call. How can you break up with someone you were never really dating. 
You’ve found your confidence to be much lower recently, too. You couldn’t count the amount of time you’ve wondered where you went wrong. Why did you have to tell him? Why would he not even try? Why didn’t he follow you? Today, you found the answer.
You had decided that a day out would do you some good, so since you had the day off, you got dressed and walked around the city. You were about to go into one of your favorite coffee shops, one that you had brought Justin to many times. As you neared the door, you caught a glimpse of something that shattered your heart in a second. There sat Justin across from some girl you’ve never seen, looking too close to just be friends. You watched as she stood, kissing his cheek before she wandered off to the bathroom. A bright smile made its way onto Justin’s face, a smile you had never managed to bring out of him. With your heart broken all over again, you made your way to a close friend’s place. It was closer than yours, and you knew you didn’t want to be alone right now.
He had told you he couldn’t be in a relationship, but what he really meant was that he couldn’t be in a relationship with you. The questions began to set in again. Were you not pretty enough? Not popular enough? Did he need someone in the same tax bracket as him? Did he really just not like you? Did he think you weren’t good enough for him? Was he lying the entire time, every time he told you how special you were to him
Even with all the questions you had, you knew two things for sure. You were done with Justin Herbert, and you definitely could not do casual.
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m-neuvillette · 2 days ago
Text
First kiss interrupted - Wind Breaker boys
Togame, Umemiya, Suo, Kiryu x fem reader
Author notes: HAPPY BIRTHDAY UMEMIYA🩵🩵🩵 spoilers for Umemiya’s background in his and don’t worry you and the characters will kiss at the end so you aren’t left hanging!
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Togame:
You hear an obnoxiously loud knock at your door and it can only be one person. Your next door neighbor and your childhood friend, Choji. You’re glad that your grandma is always out when he decides to come and “knock” on your door, she would think someone is trying to break in. You laugh at the thought and swing your legs off your bed to go answer the door. You weave through your house and open the door to see Choji raising his hand like he was going to knock again and Togame holding his arm back. “Choji, you seriously need to wait more than 10 seconds. You could have hit her.” Togame says as he releases Choji’s arm.
Choji laughs and turns his whole attention to you, “Well I didn’t so it’s all good! Anyways come hang out with us and Shishitoren! We are hosting a party at Ori and thought you would want to come.” Togame is quick to add in, “Don’t feel like you have to, no pressure.” You look to make eye contact with him and he gives you a little smile. You feel your knees almost give out, his smile is something really rare so your heart races anytime you see it.
You debate on what you want to do. Yes you would get to hang out all night with your crush, but you would have to deal with all of Shishitoren and some of them can be a lot especially at these parties. You haven’t seen Choji and especially Togame since the whole restoration of Shishitoren so you think it’s worth it. You look at Togame and reply, “I’ll go. I haven’t seen you guys in a while and I bet the party will be fun. Come inside and let me change. Oh I also have to leave a note for my grandma, she’s at the senior game night with her friends.”
Choji starts jumping up and down while Togame pushes him inside and shuts the door, “YAY! But seriously it’s sad that your grandma gets out more than you.” Togame smacks the back of his head, “Leave her alone. Not everyone has the energy to run around the city 24/7 like you.”
You are walking to your room but you laugh at their argument and call out to them, “See Togame gets me. Keeping up with you is hard, I don’t know how he does it.” You get in your room and close your door but can still heari Choji and Togame bicker. You want to impress Togame tonight because you think tonight is the night you are actually going to try and confess to him. You look around your closet and decide to pick out a black skirt and white sweater with a little bear drinking boba. You are happy that your grandma dragged out of the house earlier to go grocery shopping because you put on some makeup before the two of you left, so now you don’t have to keep the guys waiting too long. You tie up a pair of converse then spray some perfume on and walk out of your room.
You just see Togame standing in the living room, “Oh no, where is Choji? He didn’t break anything right?”. Togame is quick to face you and quick to turn your bad thought down, “NO! No, he just went to the bathroom.” He looks you up and down and you feel your cheeks start to burn, “You look really pretty.” Togame makes eye contact with you again and gives you another smile. That smile can quite literally kill you but you smile back at him and thank him. He just nods his head and watches the tornado known as Choji come back into the room. You quickly write a note to your grandma saying you are hanging out with Togame and Choji and will be back later tonight. Then the three of you head off.
The entire walk to Ori was you and Togame listening and sometimes adding to Choji’s endless rambling. Choji is really passionate about telling you every detail to the new video game he got that you aren’t paying attention to your surroundings. You hear someone call out “MOVE” but you before you can even try to move you feel someone pull you into him and hold you close. You are facing a firm chest and you can recognize that cologne from anywhere. It’s Togame. You then pick up your head to see the biker blow by the three of you really fast. Choji starts yelling at the guy to bike somewhere else while Togame catches your attention, “You okay?”
You turn back to look and him and nod, “Yeah I am. Thank you Togame, if you didn’t do that I would have been road kill.” Togame’s grip tightens on you and gives you a sharp look, “I would never let that happen to you.” You go to respond but Choji cuts you off saying hurry up. Togame rolls his eyes and lets go off you but still stays super close to you the rest of the walk to Ori.
Before you even walk into the abandoned theatre you can hear just how loud the party is, it is going to be a long night if that’s how loud it is going to be. Togame is quick to sense your discomfort towards the noise, “Hey, just stay by me alright?” You look to him then nod. He grabs your hand and leads you inside to a quieter part of the theatre. You and Togame stand by a table and catch up. He tells you all about the restoration of Shishitoren and why he cut his hair. Before he gets to the next story you are quick to compliment him, “You look really handsome with short hair.” Togame gives you a blank stare and you start to ramble, “WAIT! I am not saying you looked bad with long hair. You looked handsome with long hair too, I even loved when you would let me play with it. I just feel short hair fits you a lot more.”
Togame lets out a deep laugh on that makes him nearly fold in half, “I knew what you meant, that ramble was cute. But thank you.” You look away and nod. Togame excuses himself really quick to get you two some snacks and drinks. You see Sako a little further away and give him a wave, he returns it and walks over to you. You two chat until Togame comes back, the two guys say hello and Sako goes back to the group he was standing with. Togame brought back some sweet treats and ramune. You two eat and chat more until you hear Choji’s loud voice get even louder if that’s possible.
Togame mumbles a little “Damn it” under his breath. Before you can ask whats wrong Choji’s voice cuts through the crowd again. “HEY EVERYONE! WE FIGURED OUT THE MIC AND SPEAKER SYSTEM. SO YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS… KARAOKE TIME!!” You physically shiver at the thought of the guys “singing” super loud into the mic. It is already so loud now and it’s only going to get worse. As if Togame can read your mind he calls your name, “Let’s go outside and take a break okay?” Once you agree, Togame grabs your hand and leads you outside.
“Wanna go on the roof?” You look up there and think about how Togame and Choji always talk about how pretty the view from the roof is but don’t know if you can exactly get up there yourself. You respond, “I would love to, but I don’t think I can climb up there myself. Togame is quick to turn away any doubt, “Don’t worry I’ll help you. I can either lift you up or climb up first and help you up. The choice is yours.”
“How about you go up first? That’ll probably help my nerves.” Togame nods and climbs to the first level, he turns to crouch down and holds a hands out to you. You reach for his hands and he reminds you to hold on tight. He is quick to pull you up but you still need to walk a little bit on the wall to help you get up. Once you are both on the first level he makes sure you are okay before he climbs to the last level. Togame reaches his hands down again, “Really hold on tight to me here and be careful climbing up the wall is more messed up here.”
You take a deep breath and respond with a nervous “okay”. Togame catches your attention again, “I will not drop you. I promise.” He really always knows what to say to help you calm down. You look up and smile, “I never believed you would.” He returns the smile but it is quick to go away because he starts pulling you up. You pay really close attention to the bad spots on the wall and avoid them. Once you’re to the ledge Togame steps back and pulls you into his chest once again.
You two stand like that for a little bit until he lets go and grabs your hand again to lead you to the back where the railings are. Once you see the view you let go of Togame’s hand and run to the railing. The view of the city and the night sky is so pretty. You see people laughing outside the restaurants and the stars gleaming in the dark night sky. It really is the best of two worlds. “Togame this view is absolutely beautiful no wonder why you and Choji talk about it all the time.”
Togame stands next to you and leans his forearms on the railing, “Yeah I love it. I am glad you finally get to see it.” You close your eyes and take a deep breath and taking everything in. You think this is the perfect time to confess since you and him are alone. You open your eyes and look ahead, “Hey, Jo…?”
“Mhm? Something wrong?” You shake your head and close your eyes again, “Not necessarily. I- uh, well there is something I want to tell you.” You take another deep breath and open your eyes once more and turn to look at Togame, he is looking at you with the utmost patience. He is letting you take your time and not rushing you at all. The man is truly an angel. “I am sorry in advance if this ruins everything. I like you Jo. I have for such a long time, really ever since Choji introduced me to you. You make me feel so happy, safe, comfortable, beautiful, and I just have so much fun around you. The times I am with you, I never want them to end because all I want is to be around you.”
Togame stands straighter, “You like me?” He smiles and looks in the distance. He looks back at you, and leans in closer to you. You two are a barely apart, “You like me?” You nod your head in response. Togame leans in a little more until your lips are almost connected, you decide to close the rest of the distance. Your lips are about to touch until you hear a couple pairs of feet jump onto the roof yelling for Togame. Togame stands up but you can still feel his heat radiating off of him. He gives the other men a deadly glare, “What. Do. You. Want.” You watch the men stutter out, “We need your help. Choji started a big brawl because he lost the karaoke battle…”
Togame groans in frustration, “I am going to kill him. Give me a second and I will be down.” The men nod and hop down off the roof. Togame gives you his full attention and you speak first, “Go ahead, go stop the tornado. I’ll just head home.”
Togame’s eye widen, “Hey come on don’t do that, stay here.” You shake your head trying to hold back tears of frustration, “Really it’s okay, so go Togame. He probably already made a big mess.” You back up and go to jump down off the roof leaving Togame stunned, mad, and upset. Once you’re off the roof you are walking fast to get back home. You think about the whole situation again. He didn’t say he liked you back and he was probably just caught up in the moment that’s why he tried to kiss you. You definitely ruined everything.
You hear a pair of heavy footsteps coming up behind you and feel someone grab your wrist. You try to wiggle out of the strangers grasp until you hear your name and “It’s just me.” You turn to see Togame breathing heavily obviously from his run to catch up to you. Between his breathes he says, “We aren’t done talking. I didn’t get to say anything. So here it goes,” he says your name, “You are so captivating. The first time I met you I thought you were the most beautiful woman I have ever saw. I like you so much and have for the longest time. Your presence is so warming, when you smile, laugh, or just do anything my heart races so much. I never want our time to end either, the time I get to spend with you is such a highlight to my days. So please give me a chance, I want to be your boyfriend. I promise I will treat you right.”
You are at a loss for words so you just throw yourself at Togame, you hold him tight and nod your head. Togame is quick to return the embrace and holds you tight against him. After a couple minutes of calming down and holding one another, Togame tilts your chin up, “Can I kiss you now?” You smile and say “Yes.” Togame leans down to connect your lips for a soft kiss. It is short but it gets your whole body warm and fills your stomach with butterflies. You look into Togame’s eyes and tell him, “I have been wanting to do that for a while now Jo.”
Togame gives you a smirk and says, “Not as long as me.”
Umemiya:
You were hanging out with Kotoha in Cafe Pothos baking some sweet treat of Umemiya and the Furin boys for their harvest festival. Umemiya was ecstatically yelling over the phone to you about how well his garden did this year so he had to host a “harvest festival”. He was telling you him and Hiragi were going to grill different kinds of meat and then a couple of people have volunteered to cook the veggies or set up platters. Which all that left was sweet treats. That’s why he reached out to you. A lot of the Furin boys love the sweet treats you make to give to Kotoha to sell at her cafe so he thought you would be perfect.
Umemiya said that you and Kotoha can come to the festival since you two are helping. It makes you excited because Furin get together are always fun and energetic.
You are putting the last batch of cookies in cafe’s oven when you hear the door slam open. You then hear Kotoha groan, “UME WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT SLAMMING THE DOOR OPEN!?”
You turn to see Umemiya giggling, “Oopsies. Well I came to check how you two are doing. I brought extra hands to help carry the treats over.”
“We are almost done Umemiya, the last batch of cookies are in the oven then have to cool. So like 20-30 minutes if you all are willing to wait.” You respond to him. Umemiya nods and waves the other boys in.
Sakura grumbles, “No wait said we would have to wait. This is so much work.” Hiragi comes up behind him and pushes him a bit, “You’re fine. Not like you’re doing anything else.”
The boys sit at the counter and make small talk while Kotoha gives them some coffee. Half way through the conversation the oven goes off so you pull out the cookies and set sheet on the counter. Umemiya calls out your name, “Those smell great!! I can’t wait to eat them.”
You giggle, “Thank you Ume. Ironically they are your favorite, sugar cookies.” Umemiya’s pupils are basically in the shape of hearts. Umemiya tries to reach over and grab a cookie but Hiragi grabs the back of his coat and pulls him back, “You idiot, fucking waiting. There’s plenty you can have at the festival.”
Umemiya pouts and silently agrees. The boys finish their coffee while you pack away the cookies in the last box. Kotoha closes up the shop real quick while you sort out who is going to carry what.
Once the cafe is locked up you all make your way to Furin. Hiragi and Kotoha are picking on Sakura while you are walking a little bit behind him. Umemiya bumps your shoulder with his, “Thank you for doing all this. I took a peak in all the boxes because I couldn’t help myself and saw you obviously put a lot of time into this. It means a lot.”
You smile brightly at him, “No need to thank me! You and Furin do so much for the town so it’s the least I can do. Plus you’re my favorite person to make treats for so I was happy when you asked me.”
“Well your treats are my favorite. I can’t wait till you make a bakery. I am going to go there everyday and make it another hang out spot for the school.”
“Well hopefully I can open a bakery after I graduate.”
Umemiya stops in front of you making you stop too, “I’ll make sure it happens. I’ll help you every step of the way no matter what you happens.”
You stand there shocked but feel fuzzy inside. No one has ever encouraged you this much to follow your dream. It feels so special, he makes you feel so special. He makes it so easy to love him. You realize you were stuck in your head too long and respond, “Thank Ume. That really means the world to me. Once I open my bakery you’ll get a free pastry box.”
“NO! I HAVE TO PAY!! That’s how you stay in business silly, can’t give free stuff out all the time. But I won’t turn down being a taste tester.”
You shake your head, “Fine, fine. You can be my taste tester.” Umemiya brightly smiles and turns to walk again, “Well let’s go get this party started!!!”
After your talk with Umemiya the walk to Furin isn’t too long. Once you get there Hiragi leads everyone to a classroom to put everything for now until everything is fully ready to set up. Once you place everything in the order you want you feel a tap on your shoulder and see Umemiya, “Hey, meet up on the roof in 20 minutes okay? I gotta do some checks of all the classes but I want to talk to.”
You are a little concerned because it’s out of nowhere, he’s okay right? “Are you okay Ume?? Nothings wrong right?”
“Oh no not at all! Everything is all good. Just want to talk to you about something.”
It still makes you a little nervous but it seems nothing is wrong, “Okay! I’ll meet you up there!” He nods and goes to walk out of the room until Hiragi stops him. Hiragi whispers something in his ear and he nods to whatever Hiragi says. Then Hiragi looks at you and smiles. Umemiya walks out and Hiragi follows.
You decide to go talk to Kotoha about it. You find where she is talking to Nirei and Suo. You walk up to the group and grab Kotoha’s arm and tell them, “Sorry boys but I need to borrow her real quick.” You drag her away to empty classroom.
“KOTOHA, UMEMIYA WANTS TO TALK TO ME!!”
“Uhhh okay and???”
“IT’S OUT OF NOWHERE!?! WHAT DO I DO!?! You know I like him, omg what if it’s him saying he knows and he rejects me. I can’t deal with that. Especially not with a crowd on his home turf. I think I’m going to be sick.”
Kotoha smacks her face and drags her hand down it, “You’re an idiot and oblivious. No way that idiot doesn’t like you, he’s basically obsessed with you. Just calm down and talk. Confess if you want.”
“I don’t think I could do that. I would end up making a fool of myself and then he would reject me.”
Kotoha rolls her eyes, “Whatever. I’m leaving.” Then walks out of the room. You stand there baffled she just left, jerk. You look at your phone and see that you should head up to the roof now. You leave the classroom and head up to the roof.
Once you get to the double doors you take a deep breath then open the door and see Umemiya standing in the corner already. He hears you come through the doors and waves you over. You walk over to him and stand in front of him.
You two stand in silence for a bit looking over everything. Then a big gust of wind comes and makes you shiver. Umemiya is quick to take off his coat and offer it to you. You deny the offer because he would get cold without it.
Umemiya sighs and starts talking, “You know the first time I came to Furin, I actually was really young. It was after my parents died and I ran away from the orphanage. I wanted to die so I could be at peace again. But a student from Furin was the one the helped and saved me. I learned a lot that day and it shaped me into the man I am today.”
Umemiya then takes the corners of his coat then wraps it around you and pulls you into him. “I learned you can’t do everything alone. You need people you care about to help you when you need it. No matter what you’re going through those people are always willing to take the time to help you because they care about you. Those relationships are very important to me that’s why I changed Furin so I can make more connections with the people in this town.”
Umemiya leans his forehead against yours, “You are one of those people I treasure. You make my life brighter and happier. You mean everything to me and I like you so much. I want so much with you. I want to have a future with you.” He leans in closer making his intentions clear. He wants to kiss.
Umemiya just told you so much. You can’t believe someone who is so bright was at one point so dark and alone. He really is the most incredible person to grace this earth. But he really does return your feelings!! You then make your intentions clear that you want to kiss him as well.
Before your lips can connect you hear the door to the roof open. You and Umemiya snap your head to the noise to see a mad and bright red Sakura. “HEY WHAT ARE YOU DOING UMEMIYA!?! WASN’T THIS FESTIVAL YOUR IDEA!? WE ALL ARE-“ then Sugishita grabs him back the back of his shirt and throws him down the stairs. After he throws Sakura he walks down the stairs. Hiragi is standing watching the whole thing go down.
Hiragi turns to you two, “Uh sorry. Couldn’t stop him, I was busy grilling. Anyways carry on, but don’t be too long Umemiya. Everyone is waiting for you.” He turns back and shuts the door on his way down.
You and Umemiya turn back to look at each other and burst into laughter. After you two are done laughing, Umemiya wastes no time to connect your lips in a passionate kiss. He pulls you closer with the grip he still has on his coat to deepen the kiss. Before the kiss gets too heavy Umemiya breaks it off.
He smiles down at you, “Sorry I didn’t want to waste any time on doing that. Jeez, that was great. So what do you say about being my girlfriend gorgeous?”
You smile brightly at him, “I would love nothing more to be your girlfriend Hajime.”
“YAYYYYY!!! Time to go have a festival now!! I’m going to show you off all night.” He then leans down and presses a kiss to your forward and leads you back down to where everyone is at.
By the end of the night everyone calls you two the king and queen of Furin.
Suo:
Suo has always been a gentleman. That’s what made you fall for him in the first place, you accidentally rammed right into him on the street with all your groceries. He kindly helped you pick everything up and even helped you carry everything back to your house! That day you exchanged numbers and began talking each day, slowly getting to know each other.
As time went on, and you two talked and hung out more, you began to fall in love with Suo. He eventually introduced you to Sakura and the rest of his friends and you began to hang out with them when you all were out of school. You and Suo still spent plenty of time alone together, which only made you fall for him even more.
One day when you two were walking around town you turned to him and tilted your head. “Hey Suo? What is going to Furin like? Are the other guys there as fun as your other friends?” He turns his head towards you and stops walking to ponder on your questions. He puts his hand on top of your head and laughs softly.
“Well if you really want to know dear, it’s quite fun there I suppose. There’s all sorts of guys there, but none nearly as fun as you are to hang out with.” Your eyes widen before you look away blushing. “Ah I see, that’s very sweet of you to say Suo.” He lightly smirks before grabbing your chin and titling before teasing you. “Oh? What’s this? Are you blushing over a little compliment, how cute.”
You blush even more and lightly hitting his chest. “Suo, stop teasing! You do that way too much, it’s crazy! I’m gonna die from embarrassment one of these days I swear!” He softly chuckles before letting go of your chin and continuing to walk. “Well, let’s continue our walk shall we?” You sigh before shaking your head and running to catch up with him.
As the day stretches on you decide that you are going to confess to Suo, and you are going to do it soon. You can’t wait any longer without telling him how you feel, you don’t care if you get rejected, you just need to get it off your chest. So once you get outside of your house, since Suo always insists on walking you back, you decide to ask him to meet up.
“Suo? Can we meet up tomorrow? In front of Furin is fine, I just need to tell you something and I think tomorrow is a good day to tell you.” You decided to pick tomorrow because it’ll mark one year since you met Suo and you think that’ll be the perfect time to confess to him. He tilts his head down at you before lightly smirking. “Oh? What could you wish to tell me that must wait until tomorrow? I’m quite impatient you know, I’m not sure if I can wait that long.” He huffs softly before chuckling, “I’m kidding, of course we can meet up, you don’t even have to ask you know that? I would meet up with you every single hour of every single day.”
You give him a deadpan look before giggling. “You’re so weird sometimes you know that Suo? But I’m glad, I never tire of hanging out with you, it really makes me happy.” You smile before striding forward and wrapping your arms around him. “Just wait a little longer okay? Then I’ll tell you all that I have to say, because I won’t chicken out any more, I promise.” His eye widens slightly before he wraps his arms around you. “You can wait as long as you need to tell me whatever it is you need to. I’d wait forever for you, just know that dear.”
You part ways for the night and walk into your house. The next day comes and you are full of jitters, because today is finally the day that you confess to Suo. Hopefully it all goes well and he likes you back, but it’ll be okay if he doesn’t right?
Once you arrive outside of Furin, you see Suo already standing outside looking at his phone. You call out to him and walk up to him. “Good morning Suo! How was your night? Did you sleep well?” He picks his head up and puts his phone away. “Hey there dear, I slept just fine no need to worry.”
He walks up to you and gently wraps his arms around you. “Now, just what did you need to tell me today, hm? Could you possibly be professing your undying love to me?” Your arms freeze and they go to wrap around him because did he seriously just guess that? He’s got to be some sort of mind reader right? “Wow Suo, you should switch professions, because I think you’re a mind reader. Because yeah, I did want to confess to you today, I love you Suo and it’s okay if you don’t feel the same, I totally understand.”
Once again his eye widens at your confession, he didn’t think that he’d be right on the money with that guess of his. “Well then, aren’t we lucky? Because I get the pleasure of you loving me and you get the pleasure of me loving you in return.” He gently kisses the top of your head after he confesses to you as well.
“Suo, you better not be joking with me right now because I’m being serious. I really do love you!” He softly sighs before taking a step back to tilt your chin up and looking you dead in the eyes. “I would never joke about this, I know you know that. I may tease you a lot but never would I joke about something like this. I love you beyond words, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
Your eyes widen at his confession and before you know it, he’s leaning in to give you a kiss on the lips. But before his lips ever reach yours, you hear yelling and feet pounding against the ground. And next thing you know Nirei is ramming right into Suo and ruining the moment. “Oh Suo! There you are! I’ve been looking for you all over! There’s a meeting with the grade captains soon so we need to get going now!”
Suo sighs before turning to Nirei and smiling tightly. “You got it Nirei, I’ll be there soon alright? Let me just finish up here first.” Nirei looks around beside seeing you and his jaw drops, “OH NO DID I INTERRUPT?? I’M SO SORRY PLEASE FORGIVE ME!!!!” Your eyes widen and you softly giggle. “No need to get all worked up Nirei, it’s okay.” Suo looks softly at you before hugging you once more and whispering in your ear. “Don’t worry, we’ll finish this later alright. I’ll try not to keep you waiting too long, I know how impatient you are, hehe.”
You give him a deadpan look before hugging him back. “Don’t make me wait too long then lover boy, I’ll be waiting for that kiss alright?” You wave goodbye to the two of them before walking back to your house all giddy because now you and Suo have confessed and you know he’s going to kiss you later.
Once his meeting with the other grade captains is over, he immediately goes to find you. You had texted him that you were sitting on one of the bridges in town overlooking a river and he practically ran there. Once he saw you sitting on the ledge of the bridge he decided that he was gonna sneak up on you to surprise you.
Once he gets behind you he wraps his arms around your waist and softly whispers in your ear. “Well my dear? Shall we continue where we left off?” You about jump out of your skin when you feel arms around you but when you turn and notice that it was just Suo you relaxed immediately. “You really know how to scare someone, you know that right Suo? But anyway let us continue, I’d quite like to see how good of a kisser you are.”
He raises an eyebrow at that and smirks. “Oh? Is that a challenge?” He grabs you by the waist and lifts you off of the ledge and swiftly turns you around. After that he grabs your face with both of this hands and pulls you into a deep and passionate kiss. After a little bit you two separate to catch your breath. “Well how was it dear? Was it to your satisfaction or do we have to do it again?”
Your eyes widen as you blush. “Well that was amazing but I will not turn down doing that again. I would love to kiss you for the rest of my life, Hayato.” He softly smiles as your use of his given name and he hugs you close to his chest. “I will gladly fulfill that wish of yours milady, until the end of time.”
Kiryu:
You had met Kiryu in middle school and became the best of friends. Though right before you two graduated you started to develop feelings for him, you were doing to confess the day of graduation but chickened out when he told you he was going to a different high school.
Though you lived in Makochi and could still see Kiryu when you two weren’t in school, you thought against confessing because he was going to the school for good fighters. You didn’t exactly want to get caught up in any quarrels. But things didn’t really go as planned on your part, because you two ended up hanging out every day after school.
Since he got out of school before you he always walked to your school to pick you up to hang out. Those hang outs were the highlight of your day, but it didn’t help your feelings whatsoever. You thought since you didn’t go to the same school, you two would drift apart. That didn’t exactly happen, and your feelings only ended up growing more.
One day you got out of school early, so you decided to walk over to Furin when Kiryu got out to surprise him. You were waiting outside the gates with your school bag in hand while scrolling on your phone. When you heard people walking out you put your phone in your pocket and waited for Kiryu.
When he walked out with his friend you waved and called out to him. “Hey Kiryu!” He looked in your direction a little surprised, he didn’t expect you to be out of school before him. “Hey there, did you get out early today? You didn’t tell me, how rude.” He lightly joked before patting your head.
“Hehe yeah I did get out early. I wanted to surprise you, wanna go to Café Pothos? I’ve been craving Kotoha’s cooking all day.” He lightly smiled at you and nodded his head, “I’d never turn down going anywhere with you, wanna head out now? Or did you want to drop your stuff off at your house?”
Sakura and the others were standing there baffled because where did this girl come from? And how does Kiryu know her?? Nirei was the first to voice his confusion. “Uhh Kiryu, who is this girl? And how do you know her? Does she live in Makochi? Does she go to school around her? Does she-“ He was abruptly cut off by Suo placing his hand over his mouth. “Sorry about that, but we are curious, who is this mysterious lady? Sakura’s romance radar is going nuts.”
You both look at Sakura before looking at each other giggling. “This is my bestest friend from middle school, she just goes to a different high school that’s why you’ve never seen her before. I always pick her up from school too.” You smile softly at him before kindly telling them your name. After you introduce yourself Kiryu grabs your hand gently and asks if you’re ready to go. “Well we’re gonna leave now, see you guys tomorrow.”
As he gently tugs you along, you turn around slightly and wave to his friends. “Bye you guys! It was nice to meet you!” When you turn around you run a little to catch up with him. “Kiryu, your friends seem so fun! I hope you’re having a good time at Furin, though I do miss going to school with you. It’s not nearly as fun without you.” He turns his head to face you, “Yeah, they are pretty fun, but you are even more fun to hang out with. Let’s get going to the café shall we? You said you’ve been wanting Kotoha’s food all day.”
He gently taps the tip of your nose before turning forward again. You were thankful he turned forward so he wouldn’t see the ever growing blush on your cheeks from his actions.
You two arrived at Kotoha’s place and walked in. Kotoha turned around to see who came in and greeted you two. “Well if it isn’t my favorite love birds! What’ll it be today you two? Same as usual?” You cursed mentally because you just got rid of your blush from before and now your face turns red once again. “Kotoha you know it’s not like that!” Kiryu giggles softly before responding to her. “Yeah we’ll have the usual, thank you Kotoha.”
Your eyes dart to him because he always brushes over when Kotoha calls you two lovebirds, could he feel the same? Or does he just not want to be rude? You two sit down and chat amongst yourselves while you wait for your food. “Hey Kiryu? Do you want to hang out tomorrow? There’s a spot that I’ve been meaning to take you for a while, it’s near my school and it’s super pretty, I think you’ll really like it!”
He tilts his head at you and nods right away. “Sure! Sounds like it’ll be fun and I’ve got no other plans, so let’s do it!” You breath a slight sigh of relief, even though you knew he would agree, you have decided that tomorrow will be the day that you confess to Kiryu and the spot you want to take him to will be a perfect place for it. “Perfect! Do you want to meet up outside here at 10 tomorrow morning?” He thinks about it for a second before responding. “Yeah that’ll work for me, sure you don’t want me to pick you up at your house?”
You gently shake your head, “No, no there’s no need for that! I like the walk here anyway!” He softly laughs and that’s when Kotoha brings your food. “Well here you go you two lovebirds, enjoy!” You both thank her and begin eating your food. When you finish you two walk out of the café, hand in hand yet again. When you are outside of your house you smile softly down at your intertwined hands and lightly squeeze his hand. He looks down at your hands when you do that and looks back up at you.
He lets go of your hand and immediately wraps his arms around you tightly. “I’ll see you tomorrow yeah, my dear?” He whispers the last part so quietly that you barely heard him but you wrap your arms around him before placing your head in the crook of his neck. “Yeah I’ll see you tomorrow, I have something to tell you then too okay?” He gently nods and lets go before waving and walking away.
The next day arrives and you walk over to Café Pothos and wait for Kiryu. When you see him walking towards you, you run up to him and hug him. “Hey Kiryu! Let’s head off shall we?” He wraps his arms around you for a gentle hug before nodding. “Yeah let’s go, I wanna see how pretty this spot is.”
You two walk to the spot, a spot right by the river a little ways off from a bridge near your school. You turn to him and ask him, “Well? How do you like it?” He doesn’t turn to face you but responds, “This is beautiful, definitely somewhere we need to come more often!” He turns to face you before gently taking your hands in his. “Now what did you need to tell me?” Your eyes widen at the fact that he remembered that, but it was now or never.
“Well Kiryu, I have liked you since before we graduated middle school and I just couldn’t wait any longer to tell you, I understand if you don’t reciprocate and that’s okay! We can stay friends or not stay friends, whatever you think is best!” His eyes widen before he pulls you into his chest.
He gently whispers into your ear, “I’m so glad that you said that, I’ve been meaning to confess to you for so long but I’ve always been too nervous. I cannot begin to express my love for you but let me just show you with my actions instead yeah?” He takes a step back and places his hands on your cheeks and brings your face closer to his.
Right before his lips press against yours you hear someone yelling. “KIRYU!! WE FINALLY FOUND YOU, WE HAVE A PATROL NOW COME ON LET’S GO!” Your heads snap in the direction of the yelling and you see Sakura, both of your eyes widen and you both blush furiously. Kiryu huffs loudly before turning around to face his friends. “Yeah, yeah I’m coming stop rushing me will you?! You interrupted quite an important moment you know!”
You giggle softly before grabbing his hand. “It’s okay Kiryu, we can talk more later okay? You should go on that patrol of yours, Furin needs you.” He sighs lightly before nodding his head. “We’ll have that kiss of ours later alright? Look forward to it!” He pats the top of your head before walking off and waving to you. You smile softly before waving back. You stand in place while thinking back on what just happened, because Kiryu really does like you back and he told you to look forward to a kiss later!
You smile to yourself before jumping up and down and walking back home. For now though, you’re just going to have to wait for that first kiss of yours with your new beloved.
Kiryu texts you as soon as he’s done with his patrol to meet up at the same spot you were at earlier. When you finally get there the sun is setting and you see Kiryu. As soon as you see him you start running towards him and as you reach him you jump into his arms. He wraps his arms around your waist to catch you and that’s when he locks your lips together in a soft and warm kiss. He spins you around while kissing you and when he sets you down he separates from your lips to catch his breath.
He sighs happily before tucking your face into his neck. “That was amazing, well worth the wait I suppose. Let’s keep doing this everyday alright? I liked this a lot and want to do this forever.” You smile into his neck and give it a soft kiss. “Yeah I’d like that a lot. That was an amazing first kiss, thank you for that Mitsuki.” His eyes widen before he presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “Anytime my dearest, I’ll kiss you forever and ever, no matter where or when.”
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thebearme · 1 day ago
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This fic i wrote was made when my nose was in pain and is unfinished cause i hate writing i guess... anyway enjoy
Sensory Nose-aload
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Dogman's noes has been by his side through thick and thin. Since the very beginning it will have help him sniff out where is Mother has gone if he couldn't see her, It would help find clues for a crime that takes more than Knight's fists and what Petey is cooking for dinner as of yesterday. But yet sometimes his nose would be the one needing help and Dogman would drop everything to make sure that his buddy is good, lending him to have sick days where his stuck in bed steaming his nose and putting vicks to get rid of that dastardly cold that assaults his nose and senses.
But scary enough it's not one of those days. It's something much worse, something that Dogman can't fight but has to sit and take the beating from.
When his nose is overloaded.
A feeling that's hard for Dogman to describe to anyone cause they just look at him weirdly. But I guess that's what happens when most of your friends are humans with human noses.
The day started out like anyother day, In bed between the covers. Dogman lays there for a moment to assist his surroundings, the gentle light shining through the curtains with the sound of a bird rustling in the tree, the soft distance beep of a fire detector on standby ...
Dogman never understood the point of the fire alarm eventho Petey INSISTED that it's for safety precaution and that "It will warn everyone in the house that there's a fire." Dogman guarantee that if it does detect a fire it would be LONG after he and frankly everyone already knew. After Dogman thinks of that ridiculous thought he started getting out of bed but not before having some weird spontaneous sneezes.
After the final sneeze, Dogman's nose started feeling suspicious painfully cold. Like If the inside of his nose took a bath and before drying took the biggest breath of the Arctic winds, making every noes hair and in extension every nerve ending feel like it's been pulled.
In response of these sudden pain of course Dogman grabbed his nose, hoping it was just him sneezing weirdly or something but as quickly as the excuse popped in, the truth came to knock it down.
His hands smelled
Not bad but just smells. He can smell the sweat glands on his palm, something he could always smell but only if he really focused too. But he didn't need to focus to smell here, it just came naturally... too naturally. Eventually recycling the same hot air was getting to his nose as well, It seemed to not be satisfied with hot or cool air. Dogman removed his hands from his nose and the cool air PUNCH him straight to the nose. Another assault to his nervous system, and he feels a headache coming on... Great.
In a attempt to preserve any chance of having his nose go back to normal he quickly looked around to the nearby nightstand and grabbed two tissues, sticking them up his nostrils.
That should stop that mean air from hurting my nose right?
Wrong.
Very very wrong.
After thinking that tissues would protect his nose they actually turned out to be the worst type of Trojan horse, causing more pain to his sensitive nerves but somehow the usual very dull smell of the soft tissue now is 1000 times the more potent with it once delightful smell now just smells like factory... Which is where it came from but HELL, it wasn't this strong.
In a pitiable operation towards some peace and stability Dogman went to hide under the covers till the pain is gone. He didn't need to go to work today anyway, so he could frankly hide here as long as he wanted! He a trys to restrain from that way of thinking because one off day can quickly become multiple. But this is definitely different, his nose and sanity is at stake!
Now hidden from the world is now miserable because It truly did nothing to stop the issue. He still smells the factory smell of the tissues, the smell of the dust floating around in the sun rays, the smell of bed sheets GOODNESS THE BED SHEETS! Let it be drool from nights and nights of butt tiredness, sweat from those tussles and beatdowns he would have to save the city and wouldn't take a shower afterwards or the musty smell of wet dog for went he would take a shower but not blowdry.
The smell is horrendous.
Why, why today his nose decisively turned on him? Did he not treat it well? Dogman takes his time to smell the flowers, smells the lovey food Petey would cook and even take bite of senseless candles... he didn't need to eat but that doesn't matter! All those wonderful times with his schnoz, so why must you kill him like this?
And with that moan of frustration and pain the headache stepped in saying 'hello honey, missed me?' and making itself homed in his doggy head. All because of that no good nose of his, Dogman can't even cope breathing through his mouth because EVERYTHING STILL MANAGES TO GET HIS NOSE!
His nose is so cold but also burning hot at the same time and at this rate Dogman is planning to cry out in some hope that someone puts him out of his misery but then Dogman smelled something that's not ENTIRELY dog water.
Bacon.
The smell of the gas stove releasing its hot air and the grease fatty seasoned, smoked, and sliced pork belly strips hitting the chipped over the years cast iron pan.
It must be Petey making breakfast.
The smell is getting stronger and stronger to the point he can almost ignore that other smells that pain him.
Almost.
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twijaxx · 3 days ago
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Female Itoshi Rin x Female reader, Vampire Rin, She is lowkey kinda possesive? smut, occ Rin.
wc: 0,6k
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The sun lightly peaked thru your window, you didn’t want to wake up just yet, but you decided to look at your phone to see what hour it was. 10:34 shit, that’s kinda late for you, so u decided to finally get up from your bed and do something productive since it was your day off.
“ahh… what i’m gonna eat for breakfast today?..”- you thought as where sitting on the toilet “i wanna eat some cereal” the thought suddenly popped out in your mind as you wipe yourself down there. (what the fuk am i writing) Blood, fuck you started your period, the worst six days every woman can go thru every month. You put on your pad (omfg i’m cringing so hard) and went to the kitchen for some pain killers.
As you walked in you saw your gorgeous girlfriend Rin, but something was off.. it was bright outside and she was just sitting on the couch like nothing happened?! “Rinnie it’s bright outside! what are you doing here?!! you’re gonna burn yourself” ahh you forgot to mention, Rin was a vampire so it really was confusing when you just saw her in the middle of the day in your living room, since half of the time she’s showing up when the sun comes down so she don’t hurt herself.
“Nahh it’s fine, it’s just.. a little warm..” “are you sure? i don’t want you to get hurt baby” -you said as you sat on Rin’s lap slowly kissing her face. Oh yea you came here to take painkillers and eat breakfast, so you stopped kissing her and stand up to do what you came here for, but she grabbed your waist and pulled u back on her lap.
“where do you think you’re going? you where so surprised that i’m here just a moment ago, and now you want to go somewhere?” What’s gotten into her? she usually don’t act like that only sometimes… Oh right, she probably know you are on your period by now. “Rinnie i just want to eat breakfast and take some painkillers, i started my period my stomach hurts..” - you said as you tried standing up again, she let you go this time. “that’s why you smell so.. ripe” What the fuck did she just said? “what…?” -she didn’t respond, so you just ignored that and started your day.
The day quickly ended, it was time for sleep now and you decided maybe Rin wanna cuddle together till you fall asleep?? that was almost an hour ago and now you’re just laying there while Rin is between your thighs eating you out like she didn’t ate for years!
You can’t remember how many times you came already.. four? five? You didn’t bother counting, it just felt so amazing, you were so sensitive because you were on your period ;3 You felt like the coil in your stomach is about to snap again!
“Rin ahh! i’m a-about to cum! mhhh!” You saw stars as you came on Rin’s tongue but she just kept licking between your folds! her nose bumping against your clit “Ri-nnie, no more!”
“You’re doing such a good job… my sweet girl can give me one more, right?”
You where too far gone to respond, just screaming out her name as she kept going and going. Good that you lived in the middle of nowhere cause you would already get noise complaints from the neighbors :3
You didn’t know when you came again but Rin slowly helped you come down from your high and you watched her pull away, her chin was covered in blood and your slick, was that a bad moment to say she looked heavenly? anyways, she just stood up without a word.
“Where are you going?…” She didn’t respond, but she came back seconds later with a wet rag and started cleaning you up, then she laid down beside you pulling you into her arms.
“I love you [name]… but you are aware that vampires are not able to feed off period blood right?”
“I love you too Rinnie… wait.. what?!”
tags: @isaisliterallyhim <3
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Chat did i cook[flushed] lowkey it’s one of my first long “fics” but i guess its because its fem lock AND I FUCKING LOVE FEMLOCK and i love rin too the ending was kinda rushed cause i ran out of ideas THANKS FOR READING POOKS😝 oh and from everyone’s request… uh… i told yall… im lazy as fuck BE PATIENT
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jd-loves-fiction · 14 hours ago
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Coming back to you with another request cuz I loved your previous work
Boothill, Welt, Ratio, Jing Yuan and Gallagher with the same platonic teen reader premise but reader calls them ,,Dad" on accident and they themselves don't even notice it because it comes so naturally to them
🌑so glad you liked it🥺🥺also the dad's of all time yes yes!! Also my internet has been fucked lately that's why uploads are slow sowy 🥺
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✦ 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐥 ✦
If you look at his lore, he was actually a dad (😭 my Shayla) so yeah big chance he won't notice at all
Because of the trauma associated with his family in general, he'll notice it eventually and be a bit conflicted
On one hand, he's absolutely delighted at the fact that despite being almost entirely made of metal, you are still able to find such fundamentally human comfort within him
And on the other hand, he has a hard time accepting that the man he was before didn't actually die along with most of his body
He won't ever correct you tho, at the end of the day he's just grateful that he's still able to make young folk feel safe around him
Reminds him that he's still human🥺
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✦ 𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐭 ✦
Did you see the way he basically adopted Sunday the moment he stepped on the express?? Yeah, that's dad right there
He basically adopts every kid (as in, anyone younger than him) that steps aboard the express, so i feel like someone else might've already called him before and he just brushed it off
Same with you, though in his heart he's over the moon
All he wants in life is to make everyone around him feel safe and loved, so to know that you of all people seem to think of him in such a way really warms his heart
Though he'll never point it out in fear of making you embarrassed
He's overjoyed!! But internally :)
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✦ 𝐃𝐫. 𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨 ✦
Truly baffled, at first
He's aware of his reputation and he doesn't mind it but he never expected someone to him that way
Though he's (not so) secretly very pleased
At his core, he's a teacher and that's what he loves to do - spread knowledge to all who seek it
And I'm sorry for reminding you of this but most of us have called our teacher mom/dad before so...
There's a slight chance it's happened before... also a slight chance he very dryly corrected them - "last time i checked i have no children" 🙄
Might do the same to you unless he's in one of his moods, writing down information or just lost in thought - then he'll probably just wave you away wordlessly
I feel like he understands on a behavioral level why you did it and because of it, wont comment on it or bring it up again. It's just something people do sometimes, nothing weird about it
The most neutral out of all of them but will make a mental note about how it probably means you trust him at least a little
When he lets himself be selfish and overthink it, it does warm his heart but you'll never know
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✦ 𝐉𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐮𝐚𝐧 ✦
Actual father to Yanqing YOU CANT CHANGE MY MIND!!
Ooooh he's tearing his hair out trying not to tease you about it
He knows that if he does you'll crawl back in your shell again and thats tHEEE last thing he wants in life, really
It's easy to feel comfortable around him, i feel. He's just a big lazy cat - pretty independent and chill
He's good at just being there when you need him there as well as talking your ear off as a distraction - peak comfort
Definately called Jingliu 'mom' as a kid, come on
And Yanqing did the same with him
So it doesnt surprise him much since he understands its a pretty normal thing but GOOOOD he wants to acknowledge it so BAAADD
HE WANTS TO MAKE IT SILLY BUT NOOOOO 😭
He's an adult now (a very old one at that) so he understands that now is NOT the time
Will keep thinking back on it fondly tho :))
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✦ 𝐆𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐫 ✦
Oh oh my... he gives so much deadbeat dad I'm getting nostalgic IM KIDDING
Anyway, as a bartender, i feel like thats happened to him before
People say weird shit when they're drunk so it's very likely someone's called him dad before
Though that feels very different to him
When people do that when drunk it doesn't usually mean anything - he must just remind them of their father (for good or bad) so he doesn't take it too seriously
But you? Oh he's taking it seriously
Ego? Inflated to hell and back
He's being extra sweet and caring with you
Making sure you eat and rest, etc
Gotta live up to his reputation 😉
The dad who stepped up fr
Might tease you about it, but if you have an adverse reaction he'll stop immediately
Very touched that you think of him that way even subconsciously and will try to make sure he doesn't disappoint :)
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astraeus-tree · 2 days ago
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Can you write something with Damian X Reader where R is an extremely intelligent girl, to the point of having discovered the secret identities of the entire Batfam only two months after moving to Gotham, and who is constantly in the Bats' action scenes (Like she shows up anywhere they're fighting criminals just to recite one by one the reasons why she's sure they're the Waynes, even with all of them denying it and pretending she's a complete crazy person. A bonus if Damian "hates" her (it's actually just misunderstood love because she's just awesome and he can't handle himself)). By the way: your Batfam fanfic is great!
Sometimes Things Aren't As Plain As They Seem
Pairing: Damian X F!Reader
Warnings: Self harm, blood, mention of torture near the end
Reader and Damian's age aren't specified and I'm really sorry but you can tell I gave up at the end I've also never written for Damian so he's probably ooc
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You've held a secret for the past few months now.
No one else knew this secret of yours. Well, except the people involved in this classified information. Namely, the Wayne family and those close to them. In fact, this secret wasn't even yours to share.
What this secret was? The identity of the vigilantes that patrolled the streets of Gotham. Yes, the birds, the bat and those that worked with them in Gotham.
Your first hint was almost instantaneous after moving here. After all, who would have enough money for all those gadgets that Batman uses? Almost every citizen has come to realise that he doesn’t have any powers— with the exception of a few—so the only other reason would be man-made technology. But those costed money, and most people in Gotham could never afford those, so that left the rich or those with connection to them.
After this realisation, you made it your mission to find out their identities. It was a personal goal of yours, another thing to add to your list of achievements. And you did it. Just two months in to living in Gotham at that.
However, you needed confirmation. You were almost certain you were right, but you needed one final confirmation. You had doubts. The main being that it was hard to believe that someone from the high society of Gotham would even think to help the poor without a hidden motive. Bruce Wayne—Batman—had proven himself multiple times, yet the doubt would linger at the back of your mind.
So what better proof than word from the mouths of the heroes themselves?
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Lately, Damian’s been dreading the patrols around Gotham. The reason being was this girl, around the same age as him, you.
In almost every patrol, you had interrupted them. You had somehow found out their routes for their patrols, even when they tried everything to make it impossible to track them. When questioned, you would say that there is a pattern in everything, that’s what made people human. Human, not a hero, not a killer, just human.
You would constantly put yourself in danger, just trying to get an answer from him and his father. You would always list reasons why Gotham’s vigilantes were the Waynes. It was almost endearing annoying.
In fact, you were a danger yourself. You were a risk. You could easily spill their identities.
So tonight, he would warn you. Save you. Unfortunately for you, his job was to analyse anything and everything about someone suspicious, and in his family’s books, you were one. Fortunately for him, you were easy to find, because just as you said, there is pattern in everything.
It was another night of you trying to get your final, solid evidence. You snuck around the streets of Gotham, heading to the area where you next expected Batman and Robin to start their patrol.
As you made you way, you felt eyes boring holes into you. You reached your hand into your pocket, clutching the pocket knife inside. As you heard a thud of a pair of feet landing on the ground, you turned around, shoving the knife at the person’s throat.
Your eyes widened when you saw a familiar domino mask staring back at you. Robin—Damian Wayne. What the hell? You’re usually the one to look for them, not the other way around. What’s with this turn of events?
“(Last Name).” His voice is sharp, not even bothered by the knife pointed at his neck.
“Robin? Why are you here? You’re not supposed to be on patrol yet.”
“Of course you would know that.” He mutters under his breath. “You’re putting yourself in danger. You need to stop or we will make you.”
“I- what?” You stumbled back, confused at his words.
“Stop following us. For your safety and our own.”
“Well maybe if you finally gave me answers, I’d finally leave you guys alone.” You cross your arm and roll your eyes. You knew you were being stubborn to a fault, but you really wanted this confirmation.
“And what will you do with this information?” He returns the action and raises his eyebrow.
“Nothing. Swear on my life.”
“And how should I trust you?” He asks, skeptically. There was an awkward silence between you two for a moment. You stared into each other’s eyes, before you put the knife to your palm and let the blood dripple down on the ground.
“May Lady Gotham herself place a curse on me should I lie.” You see his face twist, trying to make sense of what you just did. This was probably a stupid idea, but you needed answers. After all, the saying goes, curiosity killed the cat but satisfaction brought it back.
“Why did you do that? Do you know what you’ve just done?” Robin was dumbfounded. Who in the world would someone in their right mind make an oath like that just for some answers? Apparently you. He was almost amazed.
“Of course I do. Just tell me what I want to hear already.”
“Fine. You’re right. Will you stop putting yourself in danger already?” He sighs defeatedly. A smirk forms on your face, another goal achieved.
“I was right.”
“You were right.”
“Well, that’s all I needed! See you around wonderboy!” You turn on your foot, not waiting for his reaction to your nickname for him, and start walking back to your house. You’ll definitely be recording this down in your journal when you arrive.
“Hey wait! You hand’s still bleeding!” You stop in your tracks and look at your hand and back at Robin, now confirmed Damian Wayne.
“It’s fine, it doesn’t hurt that much. I’ll just bandage it up at home.” Actually, it did hurt, but you wanted to look cool in front of him. I mean who wouldn’t want to in front of the guy they like?
Another silence falls between you two. You could see the conflicted look on his face, even with the domino mask covering half of it. You mentally laughed at his expression. After a few seconds, he seemed to finally come to a decision. He reached for your wounded hand, and you hesitantly let him hold it.
“At least let me help. I have some gauze in my utility belt to cover it.” This boy really was full of surprises, first coming to you to threaten you and now he’s helping you fix a self-inflicted wound. You truly chose the right guy to have a puppy crush on.
“Alright.” He held your hand gently, like you were fragile glass that would break in one wrong move. He pulled out a roll of gauze and wrapped it around your hand. You can hear him muttering stuff under his breath before finally speaking up.
“You’re actually crazy. why would you make an oath like that?”
“Aww is little birdie concerned about me?” You teased him.
“(Last Name).” He remained serious, but you reply with a chuckle.
“I don’t plan to break it, so it won’t affect me at all.” He looks up at you, a disapproving frown on his face. You return with a smile and his face flushes before he goes back to fixing your hand.
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He finishes up quickly and lets you go home.
As you finally walked back home you could feel somehow following you, but you didn’t feel threatened. You knew it was Robin.
The next few nights, you left a few art supplies on your window sill, and by the time you would wake up, they would be gone
This eventually evolved into letters that you would write to him. At first, you were met with silence, but you pursued. Eventually, you would finally see a reply and from then on, you two became friends.
Unspoken words lingered between you two.
They remained unspoken until a rumour goes around the rogues of Gotham that you knew the identities of the vigilantes.
You, not having any connections with them, lived in blissful peace. That is, until you’re kidnapped and tortured for your knowledge.
You spend hours in pain, never spilling a word. Not only because of the oath, but also to not put Damian in danger.
After a few hours, you were finally saved. High in emotions, Damian accidentally takes his anger out on you, before realising his grave mistake.
He isn’t greeted with your smirk, no, instead he sees your tears. That’s when he’s forced to confront his feelings.
During your recovery, he visited almost every day, apologising profusely.
The tension doesn’t go away even after your fully recovered, but you slowly but surely warm up to him again.
It takes a while to get your friendship to normal, but when it does, you get closer and closer.
In fact, you would say you two were closer than before. So it would come to no one’s surprise when you two eventually ended up in a relationship.
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Some explanation -
The oath is basically self-explanatory. Should you break it, Lady Gotham would place a curse on you. It honestly just came to my mind while I was writing this and I liked it so I decided to add it
I also wanted to play around with the sentient Lady Gotham so yeah
Anyways, I'm so sorry this is kinda bad 😭I might rewrite this one day since I'm really not satisfied with it
I had to dance around the topic of reader being smart because I honestly didn't know how to write that
Tysm for the request tho! As much as I struggled with it, I absolutely loved the idea <3
I wanted to go into more detail but I got writers block in between and didn't want to make it multi-part so I had to do that last part like that 🥲
You guys know the drill, any mistakes are free to be pointed out and I will fix them as soon as possible
Don't know if anyone actually reads my long ahh A/N's, but if you do, asks are encouraged as I do love to interact with people and they give me motivation
136 notes · View notes
cherryxbooo · 14 hours ago
Note
Helloooo hehe 🍒
Could you write a pedri fic where perdito and reader are both in college but he’s the popular kind and reader is quiet and almost invisible.
How at first she doesn’t wanna get involved but slowly warms up to him and start dating and her getting welcomed by his family.
Make it angst to fluff like real angst tho.
Whether you write this or not im grateful 💚
You make sense to me
Summary: Being introverted and choosing the background over the spotlight is already hard enough, let alone when the popular guy suddenly takes an interest in you.
Note: Thank you so much for your request! I decided to switch it up a bit and go from fluff to angst and obviously ending in fluff. Hope you like it! 🫶
Reader x Pedri
Genre: fluff/angst
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University is a strange place.
It’s a world where people reinvent themselves, the loud get louder, and the quiet, like me, learn to live in the spaces between.
That’s how I’ve survived my first year at university, blending into the background.
I’m not a recluse, but I keep to myself.
I study, I go to class, I read in the corner of the library, and I go home.
No unnecessary interactions. No unnecessary attention.
That is, until he noticed me.
Pedri.
Everyone in our uni knows who he is. He’s that guy, the one with effortless charm, always surrounded by people.
Popular, not just because he’s good at football, but because he’s him. He moves through life with a kind of ease I can’t even imagine.
And yet, for some reason, he keeps looking at me.
I don’t get it. I don’t know what he sees.
At first, I ignore it. I convince myself I’m imagining things. But then, it happens again.
And again.
Until one day, he does more than just look.
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It started off small.
"Hey," a voice says, casual but confident.
My highlighter sits on the page.
A thick streak of neon yellow bleeds over a sentence I was trying to mark, but my brain suddenly forgets how to function because someone is talking to me.
Slowly, very slowly, I turn my head.
He’s already sitting beside me, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
A dark hoodie, sleeves pushed up to his elbows, a grin that’s just a little too amused.
His presence feels loud, even though he’s not making any actual noise.
My first instinct? Escape.
My second? Stare.
I do both in rapid succession, my eyes flicking toward the exit, then warily back at him, as if assessing how much of a threat he poses.
He doesn’t seem to notice. Or maybe he does, and just doesn’t care.
"...Hi?" I say, but it comes out more like a question than a greeting.
His grin widens, like this is completely normal.
Like we talk all the time.
“You’re in my psychology class, right?”
I blink at him. That’s what this is about?
I nod once, not trusting my voice, because I don’t know why he’s here, or what he wants, and I hate not knowing things.
He leans back in his chair, completely at ease.
His dark eyes scan the open book in front of me, then flick back up to my face.
“You’re quiet.”
I exhale slowly through my nose. No shit.
I don’t reply.
I just wait. People like him, people who talk first and think later, usually get bored when they don’t get the response they want.
Any second now, he’ll lose interest. Any second now—
"Like, really quiet," he continues, undeterred.
His chin rests on his palm, elbow propped on the table, as if he’s studying me.
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say a full sentence.”
I resist the urge to sigh. Or groan. Or bang my head against the table.
Instead, I press my lips together and attempt to salvage my poor, over-highlighted page.
"Maybe because I don’t have anything to say."
He chuckles, low and warm, like I’ve just told some inside joke we both share.
Except we don’t.
“I don’t buy that,” he says.
I glance at him again, this time with actual irritation.
"Why do you care?"
His shoulders lift in an easy shrug, like he hasn’t even considered the question before.
“I don’t know. You’re interesting.”
I actually laugh. A small, startled sound that slips out before I can stop it.
Not because he’s right, but because that has to be the most absurd thing I’ve ever heard.
"I’m not interesting," I say, shaking my head.
"You just don’t know me well enough to be bored yet."
His smirk deepens. "See? That’s the first time I’ve seen you smile."
I roll my eyes and refocus on my book.
"Congratulations. You’ve unlocked a new achievement."
He leans forward slightly, like I’ve just confirmed something for him. "So you can be sarcastic. Good to know."
I bite back another sigh. He’s not leaving. He’s settling in.
For a moment, I consider my options.
I could:
A) Ignore him until he gets the hint. B) Pack up my stuff and relocate to another part of the library. C) Say something so cold and blunt that he’ll regret ever sitting here.
I’m still debating when he speaks again.
"You always sit here," he muses.
I glance at him. "What?"
"In the library. Right here. This exact table." He tilts his head, thinking.
"You come in, you pull out your books, you highlight the hell out of your pages, and you don’t talk to anyone."
I stare at him, my pulse kicking up a notch.
"Have you been watching me?"
He shrugs, completely unapologetic. "More like... noticing."
"That’s the same thing."
"Not really," he counters, that lazy smirk still in place.
"Watching is weird. Noticing is just, paying attention."
I frown, my grip tightening on my highlighter.
"Why are you paying attention to me?"
He tilts his head, considering. "I don’t know. Maybe I like mysteries."
I scoff. "I’m not a mystery."
"Debatable."
I shake my head and focus very intently on my book.
But the problem is, I can still feel him there, his gaze lingering, his presence impossible to ignore.
And for the first time in forever, I feel seen.
I hate it.
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Pedri doesn’t leave me alone after that.
At first, I tell myself it’s a coincidence.
A fluke.
That first conversation in the library? A one-time thing.
A moment of fleeting curiosity on his part.
But then it happens again. And again. And again.
It starts small.
A casual wave when he spots me across campus.
At first, I ignore it, assuming he’s greeting someone behind me.
But when I glance over my shoulder and see no one there, I realize, he’s waving at me.
I don’t wave back.
But that doesn’t stop him.
The next time, he adds a grin to it. The time after that, he calls my name, loud enough that people turn to look.
(Which, obviously, mortifies me.)
Then, there’s class.
He used to sit on the other side of the room.
I know this because I used to specifically sit where I wouldn’t have to be around too many people.
But one day, Pedri is suddenly there, dropping into the seat next to me like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
Like he’s always been there.
I glance at him, suspicious. He just shrugs, pulling out his notebook.
"Better view from here."
I don’t buy that for a second, but I also don’t argue.
And then there are the conversations.
Or, more accurately, the ones he forces me into.
"So, what’s your verdict on our professor? Secretly a vampire, or just really hates sunlight?"
"If you had to survive on only one food for the rest of your life, what would it be? And if you say something boring like ‘salad,’ I might actually cry."
"I bet you secretly have a list of people you’d commit crimes for. I respect it."
Some days, I ignore him completely.
Other days, his persistence wears me down, and I give in with a sigh.
"Pasta," I mumble one afternoon.
He blinks. "Huh?"
"If I had to survive on one food. Pasta."
His entire face lights up like I’ve just gifted him something.
"Yes! Solid answer. Now, important follow-up question: are we talking plain pasta, or are you a sauce person?"
I sigh again, but this time, it’s less annoying. Maybe even a little amused.
Just a little.
And that’s how it starts.
I don’t even realize it’s happening at first.
How, little by little, I stop avoiding him.
How my replies stretch from one-word answers to full sentences.
How my body relaxes when he shows up, instead of tensing like I used to.
How I catch myself looking for him in class before he even arrives.
I try to convince myself that it means nothing.
That it’s just habit. That he’s just there, and I’ve gotten used to it.
But habits don’t make my heart skip when I see him across the quad.
Habits don’t make me bite back a smile when he says something stupid.
Habits don’t make my chest ache in ways I don’t know how to handle.
And somehow—without me fully understanding how or when or why, we become friends.
Or something dangerously close to it.
And it terrifies me.
Because Pedri is warmth, and I am used to distance.
Because he is effortless, and I have spent my whole life trying to be untouchable.
Because the more time I spend with him, the more I feel.
And feelings?
Feelings are dangerous.
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Then it started with an invitation,
A casual one. Like it’s no big deal.
"Hey, wanna grab lunch with me?"
I glance up from my book, blinking at Pedri like he just asked me to rob a bank with him.
"What?"
"Lunch," he repeats, standing beside my table with his hands stuffed into the pockets of his hoodie.
"You know, that thing people eat in the middle of the day?"
I roll my eyes. "I know what lunch is."
"Great. Then let’s go." He gestures toward the door like this is already decided.
I hesitate. "Why?"
"Because we both have to eat, and food is better with company," he says simply.
"And don’t say you weren’t planning to eat, because that would be tragic."
I chew on my bottom lip, searching for an excuse, any excuse, but nothing comes to mind.
Pedri doesn’t give me time to think too hard about it.
He reaches for my bag, lifting it from the table before I can protest.
"Come on," he says, grinning. "I promise not to bite."
I sigh, knowing I’ve already lost.
"Fine," I mumble. "But if this place is loud and crowded, I’m leaving."
He smirks. "Noted."
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The restaurant he takes me to is small and tucked away, a quiet little place that somehow doesn’t feel overwhelming.
It’s warm inside, the air rich with the scent of fresh bread and spices.
There’s soft music playing in the background, and to my relief, no overwhelming crowd.
"See?" Pedri says as we step in. "Not too bad, right?"
I nod slowly. "It’s... nice."
He grins, clearly pleased with himself. "Told you I’d pick a good place."
We find a booth by the window, and for the first time, I feel oddly at ease.
We order our food, and somehow, Pedri keeps me engaged in conversation the entire time.
It’s easy. Effortless.
He talks about everything, his classes, his teammates, a hilarious story about how he once fell asleep in the middle of a Zoom lecture and got called out for it.
I laugh before I can stop myself.
He looks ridiculously proud of this accomplishment.
"You like my suffering," he accuses, eyes gleaming.
"I’m just impressed by your ability to sleep through an entire class," I tease.
Pedri gasps dramatically. "So she can joke. This is a breakthrough moment."
I roll my eyes, but I’m smiling.
We eat slowly, the conversation flowing without effort.
And it’s nice. Too nice.
Because for the first time in a long time, I feel something dangerously close to happy.
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After lunch, Pedri suggests a walk.
I should say no. I should go back to my dorm, back to my safe space.
But instead, I find myself walking beside him, our steps slow and unhurried.
The campus is quieter now, the afternoon sun casting a golden hue over the trees. It feels peaceful.
We eventually find an empty bench near the park and sit down.
I exhale, tilting my head back slightly to feel the breeze on my skin.
Pedri watches me for a moment before speaking.
"You don’t let a lot of people in, do you?"
I glance at him. "That obvious?"
He shrugs. "I just notice things."
A beat of silence. Then—
"Why?" he asks softly.
I chew on the inside of my cheek. I don’t usually talk about this. I don’t talk about myself at all.
But with Pedri, it feels... safe.
"I like peace," I admit finally. "I like being quiet. Being unnoticed. It’s easier."
Pedri stays silent, waiting. Letting me talk.
I take a breath.
"People... they take up space. They expect things. They need things. And I—" I pause, searching for the right words.
"I don’t know how to be what people need. So I just don’t try. So I won't end up getting hurt."
Pedri listens carefully, nodding like he understands.
I look down at my hands.
"I spent so long blending into the background that I guess I forgot how to be anything else."
Pedri exhales softly. When he speaks, his voice is gentle.
"I get that," he says.
I glance at him, surprised.
He leans back against the bench, gazing up at the sky.
"You know, people always assume I like attention just because I’m popular. Because I’m always around people, always talking."
I nod slightly. He’s right. I did assume that.
"But the truth is," he continues, "I don’t care about any of that."
I frown. "Then why—"
"Why you?" He turns his head to look at me. "Why did I notice you?"
I swallow, my throat suddenly dry.
Pedri smiles, but it’s softer this time. "Because you’re real."
I blink. "What?"
"Everyone else is so... loud," he says.
"Always trying to be something, trying to impress, trying to fit into whatever image they think they need to be."
He shifts slightly, his knee brushing against mine.
"But you? You’re just you," he murmurs. "And that’s rare."
My heart does something weird in my chest. I don’t like it.
Pedri studies my face for a moment, then sighs.
"Look, I know you like being on your own. I know you don’t trust people easily. And I get that. But..." He hesitates, then turns fully toward me.
"Give me a chance," he says.
I inhale sharply. "Pedri—"
"Just a chance," he insists.
"Let me prove to you that I’m not like everyone else. That I don’t just want something from you."
I bite my lip, staring at the ground.
"You scare me," I whisper.
He blinks. "Me?"
I nod. "Not in a bad way. Just... you make me feel things. And I don’t know how to handle that."
Pedri’s gaze softens, and he reaches out, hesitating for a second before lightly brushing his fingers against mine.
"You don’t have to handle it alone," he says gently.
"Let me in. Just a little."
I look at our hands, barely touching, then back at him.
His expression is so open, so earnest, that something in me cracks just a little.
Maybe just a little wouldn’t be so bad.
Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.
I take a deep breath. Then, slowly, hesitantly, I nod.
Pedri smiles, squeezing my fingers lightly before pulling away, giving me space.
And for the first time, it doesn’t feel terrifying.
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It happens gradually.
One moment, he’s just there, the way he always is, persistent, warm, impossible to ignore.
The next, he’s everywhere.
And suddenly, Pedri is mine.
Which is strange...
If you would've told me I would end up with the most popular guy of my uni, I would've straight up laughed in your face.
But, here we're... I guess.
It’s funny how quickly I get used to him.
To his presence, his warmth, the way he seamlessly fits into my life like he’s always been there.
And maybe it should scare me.
Maybe I should keep my distance, hold onto the walls I spent so long building.
But with Pedri, distance feels... impossible.
Because he refuses to be anything less than close.
It doesn’t take long for people to notice.
Because Pedri isn’t subtle. At all.
If anything, he seems to take genuine delight in shocking people.
Like the time we’re walking across campus, and he suddenly grabs my hand, intertwining our fingers like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
I freeze.
"Pedri—" I start, eyes darting around, but he just squeezes my hand.
"Relax," he murmurs, glancing down at me with a small smile.
"It’s just me."
I exhale slowly. It’s just him.
I tell myself to pull away, but I don’t.
And then I really regret it when I hear a group of students whispering nearby.
"Wait—are they holding hands?"
"No way. Pedri and y/n?"
"How did that even happen?"
I feel my entire face heat up, but Pedri? He doesn’t care at all.
If anything, he likes it.
Because the next day, when we’re sitting together in class, he casually reaches over and plays with my fingers under the desk.
Like it’s a habit.
Like he just wants to touch me.
"Pedri," I hiss quietly, trying to pull my hand away.
He smirks but tightens his grip. "You’re cute when you’re flustered."
I glare at him. "You’re annoying."
"And yet," he hums, "you still let me hold your hand."
Damn it.
Outside of school, it’s even worse.
Because Pedri doesn’t just want to see me in class, he wants to see me all the time.
"Are you free later?" he asks one afternoon.
I glance up from my notes. "Why?"
"Because I wanna see you," he says easily.
I blink. "You see me every day."
He grins. "Yeah, and?"
I sigh but don’t argue. Because, honestly?
I want to see him too.
Some nights, he comes over with zero warning.
Like when I’m sitting on my bed, fully prepared to spend my evening reading, and suddenly—
Knock, knock.
I groan, already knowing who it is.
When I open the door, Pedri is standing there with two cups of hot chocolate and a ridiculously pleased expression.
"You didn’t text me," I say, raising an eyebrow.
"Didn’t think I needed to," he says, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation.
I sigh. "What if I was busy?"
He flops onto my bed, looking completely at home. "Then I’d just sit here and wait for you to be un-busy."
I shake my head, but my lips twitch. I hate how much I like this.
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One day, we’re supposed to grab lunch, but it starts pouring out of nowhere.
Pedri and I sprint across campus, completely drenched by the time we duck into the nearest café.
I groan, wringing out my hoodie. "Well, this sucks."
Pedri grins, shaking water from his hair like a golden retriever.
"Nah. I kinda like it."
"You like being soaked?" I deadpan.
"No," he chuckles. "I like that it means I get to stay here with you longer."
And damn it, he means it.
I shake my head, trying to ignore the way my heart clenches.
We sit by the window, watching the rain while sharing a plate of fries.
Pedri drapes his hoodie over my shoulders because I’m still shivering, and when I glance at him, he just shrugs.
"What’s mine is yours, princesa."
I roll my eyes, but the warmth in my chest doesn’t go away.
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One night, we’re lying on my bed, facing each other in the soft glow of my bedside lamp.
It’s quiet, comfortable.
Pedri reaches out, tracing lazy patterns on my wrist.
"You ever think about what would’ve happened if I never sat next to you that day?" he murmurs.
I blink. "What?"
"In the library," he says. "If I never sat down. If I never talked to you or approached you. What do you think would’ve happened?"
I think about it for a second. "I guess... nothing."
Pedri frowns slightly.
"You wouldn’t have noticed me," I explain. "And I would’ve kept living my life the way I always have."
His grip on my wrist tightens slightly. "That’s a terrible answer."
I laugh softly. "It’s the truth."
"Well, I hate it," he says.
I tilt my head. "Why?"
Pedri exhales.
"Because I can’t imagine my life without you now," he murmurs. "And I don’t want to."
My breath catches.
He’s staring at me with so much emotion, like I’m the most important thing in his universe.
"I meant what I said," he continues softly.
"I don’t care that you’re quiet. I don’t care that you like being in the background. I don’t care that people think we don’t make sense."
His fingers brush against my cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.
"You make sense to me," he whispers.
I don’t know what to say.
Pedri smiles slightly like he can hear all the things I’m too scared to say.
"You don’t have to say anything," he murmurs.
"Just, promise me you won’t push me away."
I swallow. "Pedri..."
"Please," he breathes. "Just let me love you."
My chest tightens, the weight of his words settling deep inside me.
But instead of answering, I reach for him, fingers threading through his hair as I pull him closer.
His lips meet mine, slow, soft, certain, and in that moment, I know.
I know that Pedri is different.
I know that I’ve already fallen for him.
And for the first time in a long time,
I don’t want to run.
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It’s a normal day at school.
Or at least, it should be.
Except nothing is ever normal when you’re dating Pedri.
We’re sitting outside on one of the campus benches, a rare moment of peace in between classes.
I’m trying to eat my lunch, but Pedri, ever the distraction, is making that very difficult.
"You’re not even paying attention to me," he pouts, resting his chin on my shoulder.
"Because I’m eating," I say, taking another bite of my sandwich.
"But I’m right here."
"And?"
"And I require attention."
I roll my eyes, but I can’t hide my smile.
Pedri grins, clearly pleased with himself.
He reaches up, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear, then lets his fingers trail down my arm before entwining our hands together.
"Better," he hums, like this was the missing piece of his day.
I shake my head but squeeze his hand anyway.
For a moment, it’s quiet, and comfortable, like it always is with him.
And then he drops a bombshell.
"So, I was thinking... you should come to my parents’ house this weekend."
I nearly choke on my drink. "Wait—what?"
"To my parents’ house," he repeats easily as if he’s asking me to grab a coffee, not meet his entire family.
"For dinner. Just something casual."
Casual?
Meeting his parents is casual?!
My brain short-circuits.
"Pedri, I—" I pause, exhaling. "That’s... a big step."
He tilts his head, studying me. "Is it?"
"Yes," I say, nodding vigorously.
"I mean, it’s your family. What if they don’t like me?"
Pedri immediately frowns, turning his entire body towards me.
"First of all, there’s literally no way they won’t like you."
I bite my lip, looking down at my hands. "You don’t know that."
"Yes, I do," he says firmly.
"You’re smart, and kind, and funny, and—" He pauses, squeezing my hand.
"And you make me happy. That’s all they need to know."
I feel my heart clench.
Damn him. Damn him and his words that make me weak.
I hesitate for a few more seconds before exhaling. "Okay... I’ll go."
His face lights up, and suddenly, I know I made the right choice.
"Good," he says smugly.
"Because if you said no, I was gonna beg."
I snort. "I would’ve made you suffer a little first."
"That’s mean."
"That’s justice."
Pedri grins, tugging me closer. "I knew I liked you for a reason."
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That weekend, I stood in front of my mirror, stressing out.
What do you wear to meet your boyfriend’s parents?
I don’t want to be too formal and look like I’m trying too hard, but I also don’t want to look like I just threw on the first thing I found.
After way too much debating, I settle on something simple yet cute, just enough effort to look put-together.
And right on cue, my phone buzzes.
Pedri: I’m outside <3
I grab my bag, take a deep breath, and head out.
As soon as I open the door, I see him leaning against his car, arms crossed, a lazy grin spreading across his face the moment he sees me.
"Wow," he whistles, giving me an obvious once-over.
I shift on my feet, suddenly self-conscious. "What?"
"You look—" He pauses, stepping closer. "Beautiful."
My face heats up. "Shut up."
"I’m serious," he murmurs, eyes shining.
"My mom’s gonna love you even more now."
I roll my eyes but smile as he opens the car door for me.
As we drive, I feel the nerves creeping in again.
My hands rest stiffly on my lap, and I stare out the window, chewing on my lip.
Pedri notices immediately.
Without a word, he reaches over and takes my hand, intertwining our fingers.
"Breathe, princesa," he murmurs.
I exhale shakily. "I just don’t want to mess this up."
"You won’t."
"How do you know?"
Pedri lifts our joined hands to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to my knuckles.
"Because you’re you," he says simply.
And just like that, some of the nerves fade.
As soon as we arrive, Pedri barely has time to knock before the door swings open, revealing his mother.
"Hola, cariño!" she exclaims, pulling Pedri into a tight hug, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek.
He laughs, hugging her back. "Hola, mamá."
Then, her eyes land on me.
And suddenly, I forget how to breathe.
"And this must be y/n, the girl I’ve heard so much about," she says warmly, her gaze kind and curious.
I hesitate for a moment before stepping forward, offering a polite smile. "Hi, it’s really nice to meet you."
To my surprise, her face softens even more before she pulls me into a gentle hug.
"Oh, you’re adorable," she murmurs before pulling away.
"Come in, come in."
As we step inside, I glance at Pedri, who is smirking at me like he knew this would happen.
He leans down, whispering, "Told you she’d love you."
I glare at him, nudging him with my elbow, but the warmth in my chest doesn’t fade.
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The house is warm and inviting, decorated with framed pictures of Pedri and his family.
Some are from his childhood, others more recent, like his love for football evident in every corner.
I take a moment to glance at one of the shelves, where several of his trophies and awards sit proudly.
"You’re staring, princesa," Pedri teases, nudging my shoulder.
"It’s just weird seeing your entire life displayed like this," I murmur.
Before he can reply, a deep voice cuts through the room.
"So this is the famous girl?"
I turn to see Fernando, Pedri’s older brother, leaning against the doorway with an amused expression.
"The one and only," Pedri says smugly, throwing an arm around my shoulders.
I shoot him a look but manage a polite smile. "It’s nice to meet you."
Fernando nods, eyeing Pedri. "Well, I have to say, I’m impressed. I thought you were just making her up."
I snort, while Pedri glares. "I hate you."
"Love you too, hermano."
His mother shakes her head, laughing. "Boys, enough. Let’s eat."
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Dinner is incredible, and not just the food (which is honestly some of the best I’ve ever had).
Pedri’s mom made a full spread, and every bite tastes like it was cooked with love.
"This is amazing," I say, genuinely in awe.
His mom beams. "Thank you, cariño. Eat as much as you want."
"Careful," Fernando jokes. "She’ll try to adopt you if you say that too many times."
Pedri smirks. "Too late. She’s already mine."
I nearly choke on my drink.
His mother laughs while Fernando groans.
"God, you’re embarrassing."
Pedri shrugs, completely unfazed, squeezing my knee under the table.
Throughout the meal, his parents ask me questions, not in an overwhelming way, but enough to show that they’re genuinely interested in getting to know me.
His dad is quieter but still warm, occasionally chiming in with a question or a story about Pedri as a kid.
"Did he tell you he used to cry when he lost board games?" his dad asks, smirking.
I light up. "No, but I love that."
Pedri groans, slumping in his chair. "Why are we exposing me?"
"Because it’s fun," Fernando says, grinning.
I giggle, and Pedri shoots me a betrayed look.
"You’re supposed to be on my side," he mutters.
"I am," I say sweetly. "Just... not right now."
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After dinner, I insist on helping with the dishes.
"Oh, no, cariño, you’re a guest," his mother says, waving me off.
"Please," I say, offering a small smile. "I want to help."
She eyes me for a moment before nodding. "Alright. But only because you asked so nicely."
As we stand by the sink, washing plates, she suddenly speaks up.
"You know," she starts, her tone thoughtful, "I wasn’t a fan of the other girls Pedri has dated."
I blink, glancing at her. "Oh?"
She nods, rinsing a dish.
"They only wanted him for his name and popularity. But you... you seem different."
I swallow. "I just like him for who he is."
She smiles softly. "I know. And that’s why I like you."
Something warm blooms in my chest.
"You’re good for him," she continues.
"He’s always been surrounded by people who want something from him. But with you? I see the way he looks at you, the way he talks about you."
She pauses, drying her hands before turning to face me.
"I can tell you care about him."
I nod, my throat feeling tight. "I do. A lot."
She smiles, patting my hand. "Then that’s all I need to know."
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As we drive back, Pedri is grinning like an idiot.
"That went amazing," he says, eyes flickering to me.
"It did," I admit.
"See? You worried for nothing."
I sigh. "Yeah, yeah. You were right."
He gasps dramatically. "Wait, say that again?"
"I will never repeat it."
He laughs, reaching over to squeeze my thigh. "I’m proud of you, princesa."
I glance at him. "Why?"
"Because I know this wasn’t easy for you," he says softly.
"But you did it. And my mom loves you. My dad and Fernando too."
I bite my lip. "Yeah?"
"Yeah," he murmurs. "But more importantly, I love you."
My heart stops.
Pedri, realizing what he just said, suddenly tenses.
"Wait—" His eyes widen. "I mean—"
I laugh softly. "It’s okay, Pedri."
He swallows. "I just... I love you, okay? And I don’t care if that scares you. I’m not going anywhere."
I look at him, really look at him, and feel something inside me settle.
I don’t answer right away. Instead, I reach over, lacing my fingers with his.
"Drive, Pedri," I whisper.
He exhales, squeezing my hand. "I’ll wait for you, princesa. However long it takes."
And as we head home, I realize—
I don’t think it’ll take very long at all.
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It was another boring uni day. A day full of back-to-back classes.
I’m in the library, stacking my books neatly into my arms, already mentally preparing for my next class.
My mind is quiet, calm, focused on anything but him.
Pedri had texted me this morning, telling me he had early practice and would see me later.
"Have a good day, princesa ❤️ Miss you."
I had smiled when I read it.
I shouldn’t have.
I adjust my grip on the books and turn toward the exit. Then I hear it.
Laughter. Loud voices.
At first, I don’t think anything of it. Until I hear my name.
I stop. My heart stutters.
I tell myself it’s nothing, that maybe I misheard, that maybe it’s just some random conversation.
But then a voice cuts through the noise, A voice I know better than anyone else’s.
His voice.
Pedri.
My stomach twists, my fingers tightening around the books as I take a cautious step forward.
The voices are coming from the hallway just ahead, around the corner.
I shouldn’t listen. I shouldn’t. But I do.
"Bro, you’re actually still with her?" one of his friends cackles.
"I swear I thought this was just a bet or some shit."
Pedri laughs.
That’s the first stab.
"Nah, man. No bet."
"Then what the fuck is it?" someone else scoffs. "There’s no way you’re actually into her."
Pedri lets out a low chuckle. "Come on, man. You really think I’d go for a girl like that?"
A girl like that.
"Exactly," another voice chimes in.
"She’s fucking boring, bro. Always sitting in the back, never talking, just reading like she’s in some old-ass novel or something. You could have literally anyone, why waste time on her?"
"It’s not like that," Pedri says easily. "She’s just… convenient."
The air leaves my lungs.
"Convenient?" one of his friends laughs. "What, like a little charity case?"
Pedri doesn’t deny it.
He fucking laughs.
"Nah, it’s just easy, you know?" he shrugs.
"She doesn’t ask for much. Doesn’t complain. Doesn’t make a big deal out of shit. I don’t have to try too hard."
"So you’re with her because she’s easy?"
Pedri snickers.
"More like… low maintenance. She’s quiet, doesn’t bother me when I’m busy, doesn’t start drama. It’s just chill. I don’t have to worry about her blowing up my phone or expecting too much."
I feel sick.
"Damn, so you’re basically keeping her around for convenience?"
"I mean, yeah," Pedri mutters. "She’s just... there. It’s not that deep."
The laughter erupts around him.
I think I might throw up.
"Fucking knew it," one of them howls. "You had us thinking you were actually in love with her or some shit."
Pedri laughs harder.
"Come on, man. You really think I’d fall for her?"
My heart shatters.
I can’t listen anymore. I can’t.
The pain is too much, the walls around me caving in, my vision blurring with unshed tears.
I need to get out of here.
I don’t know how long I stand there.
Seconds? Minutes?
Everything is a blur.
Their laughter rings in my ears, mocking me, haunting me.
Tears burn at the back of my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall.
I won’t let them have that power over me. My body moves on its own. One step.
Then another.
Then I’m walking away.
I don’t care where I’m going.
I just need to get the hell out of there.
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I don’t go to my next class. I don’t care about my next class. I walk. Fast.
Away from the library, away from the voices, away from the truth clawing at my chest.
I feel numb.
Like my heart has been ripped out of my chest and I’m just walking around with a hollow, empty space inside me.
My phone vibrates in my pocket.
I don’t check it. I don’t need to. It’s him. It has to be. I ignore it.
I ignore the ache in my chest, the sting behind my eyes, the lump in my throat that makes it hard to breathe.
I just keep walking.
By the time I finally return to my dorm, the sky is a deep shade of blue, the sun barely peeking over the horizon.
I close the door behind me, my body exhausted, drained.
And then there’s a knock. I hesitate, my pulse spiking.
I already know who it is.
I take a slow, shaky breath, gripping the door handle before pulling it open.
Pedri stands there.
His brows are furrowed, concern laced into every inch of his face.
"What the hell, Y/N?" he asks immediately. "Why haven’t you been answering me all day?"
I stare at him.
He looks so… confused. Like he has no idea what he did.
That makes me angrier.
"Go away, Pedri."
His eyes widen slightly. "What? No. What’s going on? Did something happen?"
I let out a harsh, bitter laugh. "Oh, I don’t know. Why don’t you ask your friends?"
He freezes. And I see it.
I see the exact moment realization hits.
His lips part slightly, but no words come out.
"Yeah," I say, voice shaking. "I heard you. I heard everything."
"Princesa—"
"Don’t." I take a step back. "Just don’t."
His jaw clenches. "I didn’t mean it."
I laugh again, but it hurts.
"Right," I nod. "Because saying I’m just some joke? Saying you’re pretending to like me? That just… accidentally came out of your mouth?"
"It’s not like that," he says quickly, stepping forward. "Please, Y/n. Just let me explain."
"Explain what?" I snap. "That I’m just some quiet, boring idiot who actually believed you cared about me?"
He flinches.
"That’s not true," he says, his voice softer now.
"It doesn’t matter," I whisper.
"It does."
"No, Pedri. It really doesn’t."
I exhale shakily, looking away for a moment before meeting his gaze one last time.
"I can’t do this anymore."
His breath catches. "What?"
"We’re done."
I step back, my hands shaking as I close the door in his face.
For a few seconds, I don’t move.
I don’t breathe.
And then I hear it—
A soft, desperate whisper from the other side of the door.
"Please don’t leave me."
Tears stream down my face.
But I don’t open the door.
And I don’t look back.
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The days blur together, a mess of sleepless nights and suffocating thoughts.
I barely eat, barely leave my dorm, barely exist outside of my own mind.
Every time I close my eyes, I hear his voice.
Every time I let my thoughts wander, I remember the way his words sliced through me like a blade.
My phone buzzes constantly, but I ignore it.
At first, I let it ring, let the messages pile up, let his name flash across my screen like a cruel reminder of what happened.
But he doesn’t stop.
"Y/n, please." "At least talk to me." "I need to explain." "I miss you."
Every day, every hour, his messages come in, desperate and persistent.
And every time, I stare at them with tears burning in my eyes, fingers hovering over the screen before I lock my phone and shove it under my pillow.
Then, after a few days, I finally block him.
I expect that to be the end of it.
But Pedri doesn’t give up so easily.
It starts with soft knocks on my door, hesitant at first, then firmer when I don’t answer.+
I stay curled up in bed, biting my lip to keep from crying out in frustration.
Then, when I wake up one morning and open my door, I see flowers.
A bouquet of my favorite ones, left neatly against the doorframe.
The first time, I hesitate.
The second time, I stare at them for a long time before stepping over them.
The third time, I pick them up, hold them in my hands for a moment, and then drop them in the trash.
And yet, the next day, there’s another bouquet.
Every single day, without fail, there’s a new one waiting for me. And every time, I feel my resolve cracking a little bit more.
But I’m not ready.
I don’t even know if I ever will be.
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One week later, I finally force myself to go back to school.
I can’t hide forever.
I tell myself I’ve had time to heal, that I’ve built up enough strength to walk these halls without feeling like I’m suffocating under the weight of my own emotions.
That I can handle seeing him again.
But the second I step onto campus, my chest tightens, and my heart pounds against my ribcage like it’s trying to escape.
I keep my head down, moving quickly, avoiding eye contact, avoiding him.
But I can feel it. His presence. His eyes.
I know he’s seen me. I don’t look.
I don’t want to see the desperation in his expression, don’t want to acknowledge the way my stomach twists painfully at the thought of him standing somewhere nearby, watching me, waiting.
I force myself through class, focus on my notes, pretend everything is normal even though nothing is normal anymore.
But later, as I leave my last lecture, I barely take two steps before I feel it—
A hand gently grabbing my wrist, pulling me back.
I freeze.
His touch is familiar, careful, like he’s afraid I’ll run.
"Y/n."
His voice is quiet, raw, holding a plea that makes my throat tighten.
I squeeze my eyes shut for a second before finally turning around, my expression carefully blank.
Pedri stands there, looking at me like I’m the most important thing in the world and he’s terrified he’s already lost me.
"Please," he says softly, his fingers still around my wrist. "Just let me explain."
I exhale slowly, trying to keep my voice steady. "There’s nothing to explain, Pedri."
"Yes, there is," he insists, stepping closer.
His hold on my wrist loosens, but he doesn’t let go completely, like he’s afraid that if he does, I’ll disappear.
"Just give me five minutes. That’s all I’m asking."
I hesitate, my mind screaming at me to walk away. But something in his eyes, something so painfully real, holds me in place.
I sigh, crossing my arms. "Fine. Five minutes."
He pulls me aside to a quieter part of campus, away from the crowd, away from prying eyes.
I stand stiffly, my arms still crossed, my body tense like I’m ready to run at any second.
"I never meant what I said," he starts immediately. "I swear to you, Y/n. I didn’t mean a single fucking word of it."
I let out a hollow laugh. "Right. You just happened to say all those things for fun? Just to impress your asshole friends?"
"No," he says quickly, shaking his head. "It wasn’t for fun. It was to protect you."
I blink. "Excuse me?"
He exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair.
"Those guys? They’re not my friends. They never were. But they have a way of making people’s lives hell. I knew that if I admitted how much I cared about you, they’d go after you. Mock you. Make your life miserable. I thought if I played it off, if I made it seem like I didn’t care, they’d lose interest and leave you alone. Trust me Y/n iy happened before and it had gotten really ugly. I didn't want that to happen to the person I love."
I stare at him, my heart pounding in my chest. "You really think that justifies what you said?"
"No," he admits, his voice softer. "It doesn’t. I was an idiot. I should’ve told you. I should’ve trusted you to understand. But I swear to you, Y/n, I would never actually think those things about you."
"Be a fucking man Pedri and instead of doing this shit stand up for the person you supposedly love. You're nothing but a pussy."
I swallow, my emotions warring inside me. I don’t know what to feel.
So I leave. Again.
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Later that day,
It all happens too quickly.
One moment, I’m walking across campus, lost in my own thoughts, and the next, there’s chaos.
A crowd gathers around a scene near the student quad. Loud shouts and yells fill the air.
My heart skips a beat as I push through the mass of students, trying to catch a glimpse of what’s going on.
I’m not expecting to see what I do.
There’s Pedri.
His fists are flying, and the guy he’s fighting, the asshole, is holding his jaw, clearly stunned.
But Pedri doesn’t stop. He throws another punch, fury in his eyes. I see the red in his face, the anger, and it’s not just at the guy. It’s everything. The hurt. The frustration.
The last few weeks have been hell for both of us, but in this moment, it’s all coming out.
His fists are like his words, punching through everything that’s built up, everything that’s been left unsaid.
But I can’t watch it anymore. I’ve seen enough violence in my life to know when things are about to spiral.
“Pedri! Stop!” I shout, pushing through the crowd to grab his arm, pulling him back.
He jerks his head towards me, his expression wild, eyes wide with a mix of rage and confusion.
I hold onto his arm tightly, trying to calm him down.
I don’t know why I’m even doing this for him, but it’s like I’m drawn to him, like I can’t just walk away.
His chest rises and falls rapidly, but slowly, the fight drains out of him as he looks into my eyes.
His breath is ragged, and his hands are clenched into tight fists, knuckles covered in blood.
“Are you stupid?” I mutter, my hands trembling slightly as I grab his arm and pull him away from the scene.
The crowd disperses, some murmuring, others filming with their phones.
Pedri doesn't fight me.
He lets me drag him away, and somehow, I find myself leading him into the first-aid room, a small quiet space where the tension in my chest can finally loosen, even if just a little.
I shove him onto the chair and kneel down, rummaging through the first aid kit.
“Why do you do this?” I ask, my voice shaking. I try to stay calm, but my hands are shaking as I pull out the bandages.
I clean his bloody knuckles carefully, avoiding looking at him too much. I can’t let myself soften. Not yet.
He sighs deeply, his voice low, raw. “He was talking shit about you again. That guy, he just won’t leave you alone. I had to make it stop.”
My heart sinks, and I bite my lip hard. I don’t know how to feel. My stomach churns.
Why did he feel the need to fight again? Why did he let it get this far?
“But why do you keep doing this?” I whisper, my voice barely audible.
"I... I don’t understand, Pedri. You say you care, but you keep pushing me away in the worst ways possible."
Pedri doesn’t answer right away. He stares at me for a long moment, his brow furrowed as though he’s considering every word carefully.
I can see the guilt in his eyes, the regret, the desperation. He wants me to understand. He needs me to.
“I—” He hesitates, his voice cracking slightly.
“I never meant to hurt you. I never meant to make you feel like you were a joke. I thought... I thought I was protecting you, Y/n. From people who wouldn’t appreciate you the way I do. Those guys... They’ll never understand how much you mean to me. But they will hurt you if they think you matter to me."
I’m speechless, blinking at him. There’s a part of me that wants to scream, to tell him he’s full of shit, but the truth in his eyes catches me off guard.
He’s being real, and it’s so hard for me to reconcile that with the image of the guy I heard talking shit about me, degrading me, the guy I’ve been blocking out of my life for a week.
“You should’ve told me that before, Pedri.” I swallow hard.
My voice trembles with the weight of everything.
“Instead of... doing that. I don’t understand why you had to hurt me first.”
He doesn’t look away. He looks... guilty.
“I didn’t know how to explain. I didn’t want you to think I was using you as some kind of... shield or something. But I wasn’t. I swear, I wasn’t.”
His eyes soften as he gently reaches for my hand, his touch so careful now, like I might shatter at any second.
I pull away, feeling the heat of his gaze burn into me.
“I don’t know if I can forgive you yet, Pedri,” I whisper, my voice barely a breath.
“You hurt me too much. And... I don’t know what I’m supposed to feel anymore.”
He nods, his lips pressing together in frustration. “I’ll do anything to make it right. I don’t care what it takes.”
I turn away, my heart heavy, my thoughts too tangled to untangle.
It’s not so simple anymore. I don’t know if it ever will be.
I walk away, feeling like a piece of me is being pulled in two different directions.
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The days that follow are both long and quiet. The silence between Pedri and me feels deafening, like an invisible wall built higher with every moment.
He’s not giving up on me, though. Not even close.
It’s hard for me to stay distant. Hard for me to ignore him.
But it feels like I have no other choice. Every time I open my phone, I see his name.
Every time I hear a knock on my dorm door, I know it’s him. But I don’t answer. I won’t.
Still, something is different now. I notice his absence more than I expect.
The void he left in my life isn’t easy to fill. His quiet persistence is eating at me, but I won’t let it show. Not yet.
Pedri, however, doesn’t stop. He doesn’t let up.
At first, it’s small gestures. One morning, I find a handwritten note slipped under my door.
Just his name at the bottom, a few simple words.
“I’m sorry. Please give me a chance to prove I’m worth it.”
It’s the first time I’ve seen him so vulnerable. He’s always been confident, cocky even.
But this? This is different. I can feel the weight of his apology in the paper, and I fold it carefully, slipping it into my pocket.
Then, the flowers start.
He leaves them outside my dorm door every evening, sometimes daisies, sometimes sunflowers, always with a small note attached that says the same thing, “I’m sorry. Let me make it right.”
I feel the pull to just let him back in, but I resist. I’m not ready. I’m still broken.
Days go by, and I finally decide to leave my dorm to go to class. I walk through campus, trying to focus on the routine, trying to shut out everything else.
But I can’t. Pedri’s presence is everywhere.
I see him talking to the guys he used to hang out with, but now he’s different. He’s distant. Not laughing. Not joking around.
I can see it in the way he avoids eye contact, the way he doesn’t engage with them anymore.
His posture is closed off, like he’s shutting something down. I don’t know what it means, but something stirs in me.
Maybe it’s guilt, maybe it’s hope.
That’s when I notice it, his transformation.
Pedri has made a point to distance himself from the very people who encouraged him to hurt me.
He doesn’t hang out with those friends anymore. The ones who always made fun of me, belittled me, and tried to convince him I wasn’t “good enough.”
The ones who laughed at my expense and pushed him to do the same.
He’s even going out of his way to take different routes on campus, avoiding his old crew altogether.
It’s subtle at first, but it doesn’t go unnoticed. He’s proving to me, in the smallest ways, that he’s changing.
That he’s fighting for something that matters more than his pride.
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One day, I’m walking to class when I hear footsteps behind me. A familiar voice calls my name.
“Y/n.”
I don’t turn around, pretending like I didn’t hear him.
He’s been trying to talk to me for days, but every time I shut him down. It’s easier that way.
It’s safer.
But then, he’s right beside me, his presence undeniable.
“Please, just let me explain,” Pedri says, his voice low. There’s a softness in it now, no trace of arrogance. Just sincerity.
I finally stop, reluctantly meeting his eyes. He’s standing there, his expression full of regret, but something else, too, determination.
“I’m listening,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper.
“I... I’ve been thinking about everything,” he starts, hesitating, as if searching for the right words.
“I was an idiot, Y/n. I should’ve never listened to them, and I should’ve never pushed you away like I did. I wasn’t protecting you. I was just being selfish. And I never should’ve treated you like you were second best. I was wrong. I’m so sorry.”
His words hit me hard, and I want to yell at him. To tell him that his apology doesn’t fix anything.
But the truth is, he’s right. He was selfish. And I was hurt.
But there’s something about him, something in the way he’s looking at me now, that makes me wonder if he really means it.
“I don’t know, Pedri,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady.
“You say you’re sorry, but it doesn’t undo everything. It doesn’t fix what you said or what you did.”
“I know,” he replies quickly.
“And I’m not asking for you to forgive me right away. I’m asking for a chance to show you that I can do better. That I can be the person you deserve. But I need you to trust me. I need you to let me prove it.”
For a moment, we stand there in silence, my mind racing with all the things I’m still unsure about.
But then I notice it, the genuine effort in his eyes, the sincerity in his voice. He’s not just saying the right things.
He’s living it.
“I’ll prove it to you every day,” he says, his voice firm.
“I’ve already cut ties with the guys who put you down. I don’t need people like that in my life. They can think whatever they want, but you? You matter. You always have. I’ll prove that to you, Y/n. I swear.”
I swallow hard, his words breaking through my walls. I want to stay angry.
I want to stay hurt. But everything in me is telling me that maybe, just maybe, he’s worth another chance.
“I don’t know if I can trust you yet,” I whisper.
“But... I’ll try. Slowly.”
Pedri’s eyes light up, and for the first time in weeks, I see a glimpse of the boy I used to know.
“That’s all I need. Just a chance.”
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From that day on, I watch him like a hawk.
Pedri is relentless. He’s not just sending flowers or leaving notes anymore, he’s putting in real effort.
He spends his free time sitting with me in the library, helping me with schoolwork, never pushing for anything more.
Every time I see him talking to his old friends, he’s distant, his back turned, never engaging with the people who once made him feel like he was better than me.
He’s proving to me, with every small action, that he’s serious.
One day, as we sit in the park near campus, he looks at me quietly, his fingers tracing the rim of his coffee cup.
“I know it’s not enough,” he says softly,
“but I hope one day you’ll look at me and see someone who actually cares. Someone who will fight for you, no matter what.”
I look at him then, really look at him, and for the first time in a long while, I believe it.
He’s not perfect. He might have messed up. But he’s doing everything he can to make it right.
“Okay,” I whisper, my heart beating faster. “I’ll let you try.”
And maybe, just maybe, that’s enough for now.
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A few months later,
the tension between Pedri and me starts to ease. He’s patient, more so than I’ve ever seen him.
And with every day that passes, he seems to be putting more and more effort into proving that he’s not just saying the words.
He’s showing it.
But there’s something else. Something I can’t quite put my finger on.
Pedri hasn’t stopped trying to make things right, and it’s clear he’s not giving up on us.
It’s not just the grand gestures anymore, but the small, thoughtful ones, like leaving me my favorite coffee in the library, or texting me random jokes in the middle of the day to make me smile. (bare minimum fr)
And when I finally start to look at him again, I can see it. There’s real change in him.
And so, when he asks if I’ll go out with him on a date, I don’t say no.
But I don’t expect what happens next.
It’s a Saturday evening, and Pedri messages me earlier in the day, asking me to meet him at 6 PM sharp.
When I arrive at the spot he texted me, the park near campus, I’m greeted with something that takes my breath away.
There, in front of me, is a blanket spread out on the grass. The soft glow of fairy lights surrounds the area, strung between trees, creating a romantic little nook in the middle of the park.
On the blanket, there’s a picnic basket, candles, and even my favorite flowers, lilies, pink and white, arranged in a vase.
It’s not what I expected from him. At all.
Pedri stands beside it all, hands in his pockets, looking nervous as hell.
His eyes light up when he sees me, and for the first time in ages, I see a boy who’s trying harder than anyone ever has to make me feel special.
“Y/n,” he says, his voice shaky but hopeful.
“I know I’ve messed up. But I wanted to show you... that I’m serious about this. About us.”
I stand there for a moment, blinking at the effort he’s put into this.
The last time we were together like this, things were so different.
It feels like we’ve both come a long way.
“Are you serious?” I ask, a smile tugging at the corner of my lips.
“I’ve never seen you do anything like this before.”
“I know,” he says sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.
“But you deserve something better than what I gave you. You deserve to feel appreciated. And not just with words, but with actions. I know this isn’t enough, but... I hope it’s a start.”
I can’t help but smile, my heart beating a little faster as I walk over to him.
“I think it’s a perfect start, Pedri.”
He grins, relief flooding his features.
“I’m glad. I thought I might’ve messed it up with the flowers and all that.”
“Honestly? It’s the most effort anyone’s ever put into a date for me,”
I admit, my voice soft, but sincere.
Pedri chuckles, and his eyes soften.
“Well, then I guess I’m doing something right.”
We sit down on the blanket, and the evening goes from awkward to comfortable, and then, as the conversation flows, it becomes something even more.
We talk about everything, the past, the mistakes, the ways we’ve grown.
We laugh about stupid stuff, and he even admits to being terrible at making dinner (something I’d suspected from the start, but now it’s confirmed).
He makes a joke about how he can barely toast bread without burning it, and I can’t help but laugh.
“I’ll cook for you sometime,” he says with a playful grin. “And you can judge my terrible cooking skills.”
“Sounds like a challenge,” I tease, nudging him with my elbow. “But sure. I’ll take you up on that.”
We settle into a comfortable silence for a while, just listening to the sound of the wind rustling through the trees.
It feels... nice. Simple. And yet, it’s everything I’ve been wanting. I can feel the trust building again, piece by piece.
“Y/n,” he says quietly after a long pause, turning to face me.
“I know I messed up. But I need you to know that I would do anything to make things right. I’ll spend every day proving to you that you’re the one I want, the one I need.”
I look into his eyes, eyes full of sincerity, full of hope, and for the first time in a long while, I believe him.
“Okay,” I whisper, my heart thudding in my chest. “I’ll give you that chance.”
Pedri’s eyes widen, and a grin spreads across his face so fast it takes me by surprise. “Really?”
“Yeah,” I say with a playful smile. “But only if you promise to keep the flowers coming.”
He laughs, his face lighting up like I’ve just given him the biggest gift in the world.
“Done. I’ll keep the flowers and the dates coming. Just don’t leave me again, okay?”
I laugh softly, nudging him again. “You’re lucky you’re so cute.”
“And you’re lucky I’m good at dates,” he grins, leaning in close, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper.
“Otherwise, I’d be in serious trouble.”
“Oh, you’re already in serious trouble,” I tease back, rolling my eyes.
“But I guess I’ll give you another chance. For now.”
Pedri leans back, throwing his arms around me in a mock dramatic fashion.
“I’ll make the most of it, I promise! I’ll win you over... one bad joke at a time.”
I can’t help but laugh as I rest my head on his shoulder, feeling the warmth of his body next to mine.
It’s easy now. It’s natural.
“I’ll hold you to that, Pedri,” I say softly, closing my eyes for a moment.
And for the first time in months, everything feels right again.
The end
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meraki-yao · 3 days ago
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Poppy Playtime Chapter 4 Thoughts (Spoilers!)
Who stayed up till 1:30 am trembling in her blanket and continued to do so the whole morning for the new Poppy Playtime Chapter? Me!
So here are my thoughts and a few theories before the freshness washes off
(also disclaimer, I didn't actually play the game because I am by no means a gamer and way too much of a scaredy-cat to actually play it, this is based on the play-throughs I watched)
Thoughts
Monsters/Bosses:
Yarnaby:
Big kitty. Seriously though I feel like he's kind of standard for a poppy mid-level boss.
Pianosaurus:
Now some say that he was wasted but honestly I don't think so? All things considered I don't think he was hyped up all that much: he had one distorted image in the ARG and one jingle with not much actual information on the bigger-body. So truthfully speaking, I think the twist of having him be so quickly and suddenly destroyed by Doey was really successful, I for sure did not see it coming at all.
Nightmare Critters:
Okay as someone who really grew to love the smiling critters, the nightmare critters' very concept confused me. Like I don't dislike it, I'm just confused, like what is the in-game reason for their existence? I really think they wanted to reuse the mini-smiling critters concept from chapter three, but since the smiling critters in Chapter 4 are children refugees in Safe Haven, to make a distinction they created the nightmare critters. Defintiely annoying little pests though, which means they're fulfilling their purpose quite well.
The Doctor:
I was wondering if they were gonna re-use the weeping angels mechanism from Miss Delight because when I watched the trailer I couldn't think of anything else, but turns out they're traffic light systems but reverse: yellow means the minion is going to move, and red means it is moving. The VA acting is absolutely on point, so all the applause to Baldwin, but game play wise I... honestly feel it's a little underwhelming? It's all very confusing and a lot of brute forcing, and truthfully speaking to have this villain that was built up for so long, second to the prototype get destroy fairly quickly, felt... too easy for such a horrendous character. I still don't understand with what intention is he and prototype collaborating. I also feel like the stuff in the ARG about Sawyer's backstory didn't really pay off?
Doey:
OH GODS I CRIED SO MUCH I COULD WRITE A WHOLE POST ABOUT DOEY ALONE. I knew he was gonna be a twist/final boss in someway just because of how he was marketed, but oh my God, I wasn't prepared for how tragic this was. I think it is the oldest sister/eldest daughter in me, seeing Doey try so damn hard to be a leader to wayward children, trying so hard to manage and protect everyone, that's something I understand and sympathise with. The oldest part of him was only 15 when the hour of joy happened! The tape of him talking to himself, giving himself a reminder to keep holding on and protecting kids, God that broke my heart. I was sobbing and muttering "it's okay... you did great... you can rest now... you can go see your mommy and daddy and friends now" when he died.
I think the two facts that make this even more tragic is that the other completely sympathetic character, Dog Day (still my favourite best boi), bad things was inflicted on him. Even Dog Day as a boss, that wasn't his choice, he didn't have one. Doey on the other hand, it was self-inflicted: I can't say him going beserk was a choice per se, emotions are complicated, but he was the responsible one. This pain was self-inflicted, and unlike Dog Day, could have been avoided.
Which brings me to my second point: for Doey (so I have to emphasise, this is in NO WAY a comment on actual DID systems, and boy do I have thoughts on that), in one of the VHS tape, the scientist remarked that one of the kids that made him up: Kevin Barnes, was erratic and aggressive, and could pose a danger if included in the experiment. He ended up being included because Sawyer demanded it and "The Doctor's word is law". This means if Kevin wasn't included in Doey, if it was just Jack and Matthew, then Doey wouldn't have that insane breakdown. He would be sad, he would feel guilty, yes, but all of those are the average human emotions experienced in a situation like this, and it wouldn't have been so destructive. HE COULD HAVE SURVIVED. In his insane monster form, we can literally see the three kids in the monster's mouth, two of them frowning and one of them angry, the two sad kids trying to hold the mad one back. THIS COULD HAVE BEEN AVOIDED.
Anyways, I love the guy. I'll be drawing and mourning him. Sleep well buddy, you can rest now.
Plot and Lore:
Riley made me cry so much too. God, what a kid, trying to help, even a single soul till the very, very end. Sleep well kiddo. You did so well, and you're with your mom and dad now.
Also the way she described being turnd into a bigger-body, I wanted to throw up. Props to the writers for doing such a good job on that.
Oh the excited shout I let out when I saw the tape with Bigger Bodies Hoppy! So we know that there are more Bigger Bodies Smiling Critters that survived past the experiments and the hour of joy. But then I remembered that Dog Day said he was the last of the smiling critters and got sad, whoever Hoppy is, at this point in the story, she's gone :(
The omni-hand confuses me storywise: it's just a keycard equivalent?
Kissy Missy!!!! (that's it, I just love her)
I called three things: Poppy being Elliot's daughter, Ollie being the prototype, and Huggy still being alive. Granted a lot of people called it too, these are just the theories I believed in that turned out to be true
THERE ARE SO MANY DEAD BODIES AND EACH AND EVERY ONE OF THEM WAS A CHILD BEFORE I WANT TO SCREAM ABOUT THIS THIS IS AWFUL
The player is shaking in idle. That is some details. Also this person is gonna be triple traumatised.
I don't think Poppy is evil per se, but I think she is very selfish and self-centred, in the sense that she believes that she is the one with all the answers. I wonder how much did Elliot Ludwig spoil her. Also, bitch, she ditched us again.
Theories and Questions
In the Hoppy VHS, she mentioned she got jumped while trying to get supplies: jumped by what and who?
What the hell is the deal with Stella Greyber's change of heart in joining the executives on the bigger-bodies initiatives? Her change of heart is so sudden and so illogical?
It's one thing for Poppy to believe in Ollie. But Doey knowing and believing in Ollie too? How many people did he fool?
Also given that Ollie is the prototype, was his "HE'S OUTSIDE" that led to Doey going out and leaving safe haven a distraction?
I think the prototype is also an amalgamation, and one of the identities is Elliot Ludwig. It's final speech to Poppy, telling her to "come home" sound pretty in line with an evil father figure, and my sister pointed out if you removed the "T", "Elliot" is an anagram for "Ollie".
What is the prototypes agenda at this point? It's willing to collaborate with the doctor, the very person that started all this hellfire. It doesn't care about the children's lives seeing as he bombed Safe Haven, killing everyone inside. It's whole "burn it all down" idea actually echoes Poppy's agenda, but Poppy sounds genuinely shocked and scared to learn that Ollie is the prototype. What the hell is going on?
Who is Kissy? The bigger-body Kissy Missy that's been our companion for the past two chapters. Game Theory had their theory that it was Patty Hall, but I'm... starting to think it was Stella? We don't know Kissy's experiment number, and I don't think we have any info on Stella's status during the hour of joy, so it's not impossible. It's just... their... attitudes, for a lack of better words, seem to align.
Leith Pierre is out there somewhere, we know he survived since he's in project playtime, but where the hell is he now? He is a bigger player in this scheme than he lets one. I don't believe he's not gonna make an appearance in the future.
What the hell is Rich's deal? So turns out he's one of the more likeable higher-ups? And he's the head of shipping? What is up with his change in attitude from moody aggressive guy to the dad friend/supervisor?
There's this one mystery from Chapter two that still hasn't been solved: there were slides with plates of each department's head's name and one was missing: we still don't know who that could be.
I truly think at the very least for this storyline, the next chapter is the last. The doctor was the second greatest villain and now he's dead. Additionally, we came into direct contact with the prototype, so from a storytelling perspective, the next chapter has to be the last stand. I don't believe this will be the end of the poppy playtime universe though.
Conclusion/Overall Comment on the Chapter:
I liked the chapter, but I think the problem is that unlike the previous chapters that felt like a constant overall upgrade, this one didn't feel like an improvement (but nor it did feel like a downgrade though). There are aspects of the chapter that definitely improved from that last: the graphics, the gameplay mechanics, the gore making people immediately physically uneasy, and characterisation of both major and minor characters, making us immediately love or hate them in a very short time. But the pacing really felt less enjoyable compared to the last chapter, same with the boss battles. It felt like it dragged too much then rushed too much. The pros and cons kinda cancel each other out, leadings to a net zero.
My favourite is still Chapter three, but I'll give this one a 7.5/10.
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