#long story short; I want to ride him with his uniform on
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ghostsnugget · 15 hours ago
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I've finally gotten time to start my story. I know it's not much but I hope you like it
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Getting Started
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The helicopter hit the pad with a loud thunk. Sand and dirt swirled through the air as the helicopter's blades slowed down. Hand over your eye to block out the sun, you step out of the chopper and move towards the door to the inside.&nbsp;
"Hurry up temp, we don't have all evening." You hear a loud gruff voice call out. Temp he said. Falling out of your long ride stupor you remember you're a temporary transfer. You look up and see Price's stern face looking down at you as you step inside, the door latching behind you with a loud kerchunk.
"Remember, you're only here for a couple weeks. Temps live in a different hallway than my team so I'll show you that way now." He hands you a key card and turns on his heel, going down a short set of stairs to the ground floor. You can't help but notice he has a slight bounce in his step. Following close but still a step behind him he continues his thought from the roof.
"Currently there is no one in your hall so no one should disturb you. You will drop your things off and unpack before making your way to the chow hall. It's almost time for lunch" he says with a slight smirk on his face and a hand on his stomach. Seems he's excited.
Finally making it to your room he leaves you without saying a word, still you feel you shouldn't dilly dally. Quickly you unpack, put your bags away and change into your new uniform. It's less of a uniform and more of a dress code; A pair of black boots, socks and pants, a plain dark blue or black t-shirt, hair at least brushed and no makeup.
Once you're dressed you grab your key card and step into the hall. It seems longer now that you're alone. All the doors are closed and the walls are painted a drab sandy color. Thinking maybe it won't be so eerie once you're around others you follow the plaques on the walls to find the chow hall.
Entering the chow hall only slightly alleviates your unsettled feeling. Grabbing a tray of food you turn around and see Price waving you over to the table he and his team were sitting at. You place your tray down and take a seat, all eyes are on you.
"Temp, this is my team; Ghost, Gaz, Soap and now you. You should get acclimated well, it's not too hard to stay here but keep in mind I won't tolerate any bullshit. on and before I forget, what should we call you?" He looks over expectantly, waiting for your call sign.
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I hope you enjoyed reading it, take a look at my next post for what you want the call sign to be. I haven't decided where I want this story to go but suggestions are always welcome. Please give me your feedback and how you feel I might be able to improve.
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rottiens · 5 months ago
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I'm curious about your feelings regarding
https://www.tumblr.com/rottiens/752735964543254528/ichcor?source=share
i feel things. very hard. i think of hiromi coming home tired after a case, you complaining because he's smoking inside the house which ends in a little argument, which continues with him apologizing and eating your mouth.
hiromi noticing how small your pajama shorts are, the way your ass cheeks stick out of the soft fabric just a little bit. his hands cradling your butt, pulling you up onto the counter and pulling one of your tits out of your loose top to take it into his mouth as he drools a little bit on it.
he's been so stressed out all day he just needed a little spark to burst.
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jo-harrington · 9 months ago
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Standard Operating Procedures 1.06 (Eddie Munson x Store Manager!Reader)
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Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader
Summary: Eddie’s your boyfriend. Now what?
Previous Part: Disaster Preparedness
Warnings/Themes: AU where the Upside Down doesn't terrorize Hawkins. Reader works at the Claire's at StarCourt. Eddie works at TapeWorld. First Dates and silliness, Sickeningly sweet fluff, miscommunication (not in a bad way), sexual tension, smut, allusion to oral sex, PinV Sex
Note: Here we go guys, the penultimate installment of SMVerse. We only have the finale to go. It's been a wild ride, I'm both ready to move on and give my other stories their attention, and also a little bit loathe to let my babies go. They can always make their little appearances in one-shots in the future if I need them back.
Thank you to @deathbecomesthem and @courtingchaos for looking over a few little things. Your insight is always appreciated.
You can find my masterlist here for more featuring our resident Store Manager and all of my other writing.
Please do not interact if you are not 18+.
Enjoy!
---
"Do I show up with flowers?"
"Flowers?"
"What's that voice, you don't like flowers?"
"Not really."
How you got to become friends with Steve Harrington, you couldn't tell for sure. One day, he was just a frantic customer running around in a Scoops Ahoy sailor uniform worrying about cherry chapstick, and then suddenly he was sitting in your store once a week looking for relationship advice.
Like today, as he tried to figure out plans to win back his ex.
Or something like that.
It was hard to tell with Steve. Oftentimes you got a half-finished story, as though you were some omniscient being that was supposed to know the other parts already. Sometimes he'd be an apt listener with the patience of a saint as you gave him whatever advice you could, and sometimes, he would go off on a one-sided tangent, and thank you for something that you didn't even know had come out of your mouth.
He reminded you of Jimmy a lot, which was why you were as patient with him as you were.
It was fine; it was a Thursday in January and the holidays were over, that meant the mall was dead. You'd hadn't had a single customer yet and a mountain of shipment to process. He could stay as long as he wanted, as long as he kept bringing cookies as payment.
"Everyone likes flowers," Steve argued skeptically after a moment of contemplation. "You're telling me Munson hasn't gotten you roses or something?"
Speak of the devil...
The shop bell rang, a chain rattled, and leather squeaked, and before you could answer, your boyfriend--you were still giddy referring to him like that in your head--himself chimed in.
"If I was a jealous man," he started with an exaggerated glare at Steve. "I would say you're here flirting with my girlfriend."
You rolled your eyes at his antics and crossed your arms over your chest, both Steve and your menial tasks forgotten momentarily, but you giggled nonetheless.
"What are you doing here?" you asked. "Don't you have school?"
"I came to ask you a very important question," Eddie smiled conspiratorially. "But imagine my surprise when someone else is sitting in my spot."
"It's not your spot. And I'm giving him advice."
"Again?"
"He's hopeless, apparently."
"I'm right here," Steve exclaimed and got to his feet, ready to leave. "I didn't come here to be made fun of. I actually need help."
You were about to deliver a snarky remark to your friend when Eddie held a hand out towards you and led Steve out of the store.
The shop bell rang again and you sighed, lamenting your conversion for the millionth time.
You'd just bully Eddie into buying something small.
After a short time, Eddie returned to the store and approached you with a smug smile on his face.
"What?" you asked.
"Oh, nothing," he replied nonchalantly. "Just playing Cupid, that's all."
"Look at you, hopeless romantic." You opened another box and gleefully picked up a little purple jewelry carding that proudly displayed fuzzy red heart studs. You held them up to Eddie's face and squinted one eye.
"What are you doing?"
"Valentine's Day is coming up," you explained. "Trying to see if my resident Cupid here would look cute in heart earrings."
He slapped your hand away and chuckled.
"You know I would," he teased and then fluttered his lashes at you coquettishly.
"Does that mean you're finally gonna let me pierce your ears?"
"Mmmm, does Claire's have a lobotomy option I could consider first? Maybe next time, sweetheart."
"I knew you hated needles," you shot him a teasing glare. "Alright, why did you skip school today? Spill. What is this very important question you wanted to ask me?"
Eddie shoved his hands in the pockets of his jacket and rocked on the toes of his boots, then began pacing around nervously. Which made you nervous in turn.
"You know, you just mentioned Valentine's Day," he began. "And...actually yeah, they're starting to talk about a Valentine's dance at school. It's corny, they always do it. Paper hearts and cherry punch and sugar cookies and bad love songs.
“And the guys were asking if I was gonna ask you. Well, Henderson more than anyone. I think he has a crush on you if I'm being honest, even though he insists that he has a girlfriend in Salt Lake City, do you believe that? Little liar. Isn’t the whole bit that the fake girlfriend lives in Canad—”
"Eddie," you snapped him out of his tangent with a laugh, trying to calm the butterflies in your stomach. "Are you asking me to the dance right now?"
Ok, a high school dance...wasn't exactly your idea of a good time but...the idea was a bit of a novelty. They didn't have dances like that at your very Catholic, very-all-girls high school. Even prom with the neighboring boys school was...modest dresses and suits and a nice dinner at a banquet hall. No real fun, no real dancing.
Last time you really even danced with someone was at a party Jen dragged you to and then you ended up in a heated makeout session that maybe went a little too far. And wasn't remarkable.
To go to a school dance with Eddie...that would be so sweet and fun. A do over for some non-existent or downright mediocre experiences.
"No, I'm not actually."
Never mind then.
"But it reminded me," he abruptly turned to face you. "That we haven't gone out on an actual date yet."
"Wh...Eddie what do you mean?" you scoffed. "Did you hit your head? We went out on Christmas Eve. Dinner at Benny's."
Eddie had picked you up for work with a thermos of hot coffee that day, you both worked until the mall closed, and then went straight to the diner. The jukebox played Christmas carols only and Ben had two special holiday prix fixe meals: a classic Pot Roast dinner and then one with a little more Benny’s flair—Christmas Dinner style omelettes, candied yam hash browns, and hot cocoa with peppermint whipped cream. You and Eddie ordered one of each and shared.
But you were both so tired that you didn't even talk; you just sat on the same side of the booth snuggled against each other, dozing off and picking at your food until Benny came to wake you both up when he was ready to close.
When Eddie dropped you back off at home, it started snowing right when you kissed goodbye. It was the perfect date.
"I've decided that it isn't our first date," he announced.
"And why is that?"
"Because we didn't even say anything but 'fuck that guy wanting to make a return on Christmas' and 'pass the salt.'"
"You also realize that we've been going out every Sunday since last..." you paused briefly to think back. "May? First week of June?"
"Those don't count either," he shook his head resolutely. "In fact those were specifically not dates."
Funny, that’s how you always thought of them too.
You were about to give in and agree, about to tell him "whatever you say Eddie." He did make a good point and it wasn't like he was calling your relationship off, he just wanted another chance at a first date. What was the harm in that?
But he beat you to the punch, suddenly nervous under your scrutiny.
"Listen, I know it's silly," he crossed his arms over his torso and shrugged. "I just...want to get it right. Make you dinner, see a movie, I know you just told Harrington you don't like flowers but...a bouquet of cookies or something?" He reached over and flicked the bag of cookies on the ear piercing station. "Make you a mixtape, I dunno."
"You made me a mixtape already, Ed."
"Yeah but I want to give you the kind of mixtape a guy makes for his girl."
You melted at his words and fought the smile that threatened to bloom on your lips and butterflies that suddenly fluttered in your stomach.
"And what's on that one that's not on the other one?" you teased, intentionally obtuse.
"You know...ballads and...sappy love songs and..." He froze and you watched as he flushed prettily. "You're making fun of me."
"It's really fun to do," you told him matter-of-factly.
Eddie ran a hand over his mouth and then looked around. He leaned back to glance out into the mall, and then faster than you could react, he ran right up to you, cupped your face in his hands and smooshed his lips to yours in a kiss. You dropped the jewelry you were holding and covered his hands with yours; you took two little steps to get as close to him as you could, and sighed as he broke away to continue pecking at your lips between his words.
"You're a menace." Peck. "You're a trickster." Peck. "And I'm picking you up for a real date." Peck. "Our official first date." Peck. "On Sunday."
You were joined together once again and he paid special attention to your lower lip, sucking on it in a way that made your spine tingle.
"Hmmm," you pulled away, trying to ignore the heat that was overtaking your body. You were still at work, after all. "Sunday huh? I thought Sundays didn't count."
"Well they count starting now." He stole another peck and then backed out of the store. "You have a great day, sweetheart. See you later."
---
Everyone teased you for your entire shift on Sunday.
Mindy was the first, having already unlocked the gate and counted up the registers for store open.
"Oh lookie here," she whistled. "Miss Lovebird is all dressed up for her date with the wannabe-rockstar."
You did a little spin and a pose for her; not dressed in your Seventeen Magazine best, but something a little more comfortable--still a dress, just a little more you--so you wouldn't have to frantically change for your date.
Chrissy offered to do your makeup on break and then confessed that she had a first date fast approaching too.
"No more Jason?" you asked, trying not to sound too hopeful as she swiped eyeshadow on.
"No, he was kind of..." she sighed. "He wasn't what I thought he'd be like as a boyfriend. I don't think I would've had the courage to end things and go after someone I really liked if I didn't work here though. I've...gained a lot of confidence since being here."
"I'm glad," you beamed at her.
Stacey even apologized for all the jokes she'd made about Eddie before she left at the end of her shift.
"I know I give him a lot of shit, but Munson's actually alright," she sniffed uncomfortably, as though complimenting him was something she was allergic to. "That thing he did at Christmas...the Santa thing? That was really sweet."
"Yeah it was."
Finally, 6pm rolled around and the gates closed. The rest of your team went home and you were left counting down the registers in anticipation as Mindy gave you a talk very reminiscent of the Birds and the Bees that your parents gave you once upon a time.
Before you knew it, Eddie was standing outside with his hands shoved in the pockets of his leather jacket, and you flashed him a quick "five" to let him know you wouldn't be long.
"Ok listen," Mindy got real close to you know, hand on your shoulder, lips close to your ear as she whispered. "If you guys wanna do the ol' Horizontal Tango tonight--"
"What are you 75?"
"--at the very least do it in a bed and not the back of his van, ok?"
"I swear to god," you mumbled under your breath.
"Invite him back to your place. Light a candle. Ambience. Make sure you have condoms."
"Melinda!"
She started cackling.
"I mean, I guess you don't have to have--
"Utter one more word and you're fired," you pointed at her threateningly.
Mindy immediately held her hands up innocently and then dragged her fingers across her lips like a zipper.
As you finished counting down the registers though, you wondered if you'd only shut her up because she was crossing a line...or if it was because she was actually really good at reading the secret expectations that you may or may not have had for this date.
It was just a first date, nothing was gonna happen. You could think about all of that next time. But…what if…
The store suddenly became unbearably warm.
Before long, the two of you ducked under the gate and Mindy simply waved goodbye while holding back her laughter as Eddie approached you.
"What was that?" he asked, thumbing over his shoulder at her. "Everything ok?"
"She thought she was being funny, but instead she's just an asshole," you explained, trying to laugh off the awkward conversation and illicit thoughts that still lingered in your mind.
"Ah," he nodded slowly, his eyes squinted for a moment and you swore you saw the gears turn in his head. "Yeah...Kyle did the same thing for me too. You remember when I found out the kids had a bet against us? Apparently the whole team had a secret bet going too.”
"And Kyle won?" you questioned eagerly, glad for a change of topic.
"No, Paulie. But P gave me a cut, thanked me for being such a stick in the mud and holding out as long as I did."
"How much?"
"Fifty bucks," he pulled a roll of bills from his pocket. "Gave it to me today and told me to take you someplace nice. Which was the plan anyway, if you were wondering."
The two of you stood there awkwardly for a second before Eddie cleared his throat.
"You look nice sweetheart," he said with a nervous smile.
"Thanks, so do you."
And he did.
He had his leather jacket over a fitted forest green henley, with ripped black jeans and boots. You'd never considered green to be such a favorable color on him, his usual outfits consisting of blacks and reds and the occasional blue, but it was dashing. Brought out the glowing warmth of his eyes, the tiny honeyed flecks that often got lost in chocolate depths.
"I, uh, have something for you," he announced, fishing something out of his pocket. "I didn't have time to do a new mixtape, so you'll have to take an IOU for it. This...might be a little cheesy... but...well, close your eyes."
You followed his instruction and felt him grab your hands and lift them up. He positioned them just so, and then left you standing there as he prepped whatever your gift was.
"It's not my usual thing," he muttered as he fumbled with what-sounded-like a rustle of paper. "But the guys helped me clean out the van--"
"You cleaned the van?" you scoffed. "For me? Eddie I've been in your van before."
"Hey listen," he suddenly sounded offended. "First date and such, you deserve the best."
"I like the clutter in your van," you told him truthfully.
"Listen, if I hadn't cleaned it out I would've never been able to gift you with this, the Mirror of Galadriel. Well it's more like a hand mirror. Hey no peeking!"
He continued telling you about the way Lucas and Will, crafty as they were, helped him make this little surprise during the break of their Friday night session of Hellfire.
"Apparently Sinclair's little sister and her friends make these for each other, and he's helped them. Which, ask me to paint minis for DnD any day; this shit was hard. There. Open your eyes now."
He slipped something over the tips of your fingers and when you opened them you found...
"A cootie catcher?" You asked with a laugh. "Eddie..."
You were about to ask what the deal was when you noticed it wasn't just a folded piece of paper littered with numbers and words, but taped and glued together with bits of familiar papers.
You brought it closer to your face for further inspection, flexing your fingers this way and that to see the bits folded inside.
Was that the logo from Pizzeria Uno? And...a movie ticket?
"Eddie...what...?"
"Ok, it's not just garbage," he assured you. "I know I don't really clean out my van that often. Shit, there was homework in there that I was supposed to turn in last year. No wonder I had to repeat again. But I guess I never realized that after our not-dates, I sort of left a few things in the glovebox or emptied my pockets in the back to throw out later.
"This...this is from our first outing for pizza. And when we went to see Day of the Dead. I cut up the order form when you paid the last installment on Sweetheart. And this? The menu from that one takeout place we ordered from? That night when...you know...before we went to Chicago? A-and a Chef Boyardee label. Y'know from that one time we ate dinner at your place? Well, actually, I don't think it's from that night.
"I-I know, I'm a walking contradiction," he concluded with a laugh. "I said that this was gonna be our first official date and here I am with a reminder of all the times we weren't dating but...I guess I figured...our times together as friends are just as important as any date. So now that...you're actually my girlfriend, I needed you to know you'll still always be my best friend too."
You felt your eyes water and your heart pound in your chest.
"Do you like it?" he asked nervously.
"It's only," you let out a watery laugh. "Only the best gift I've ever gotten."
"Seriously?"
"Yeah."
"Not even the Boston cassette I got you?"
"Not even that," you shook your head. "Seriously Eddie...it's perfect."
All you wanted in that moment right there was to kiss him.
And you would have, but the lights in the mall concourse dimmed, signaling customer hours were over and that everyone needed to leave.
"You ready?" he backed away from you and held his hand out, fingers wiggling and eager to twine with yours. You gladly took it, expecting to hold his hand as you walked out towards the employee lot, but he surprised you by twirling you in a circle. He spun you into him, tucked against his side, and draped his arm across your shoulder.
You were sure it was gonna be a perfect night. Again.
Because he was perfect.
---
Turns out the Cootie Catcher wasn't just a gift with little mementos of your friendship, it was the means of which the two of you would decide the fate of your date night.
"I'll pick first," he explained. "And then you pick next ok? You just gotta trust me on this."
Throughout the night you both picked numbers and pinched the corners of the cootie catcher back and forth, back and forth, until you came up with the next activity you would embark on.
"Dinner at...the Hideaway," you read the first outcome that had come up. "The Hideaway? I thought it was the Hideout."
"No, they're two different places," Eddie explained. "Damn, you've almost lived in Hawkins for a year now and you still don't know? I'm a really bad Welcome Committee."
Turns out the Hideaway was a sports bar on the outskirts of town. The bar itself was a little crowded with patrons drinking beers and watching football on the twin tv's that were mounted overhead, but there was a tiny little dining room off to the side that was practically empty.
As you scanned the menu, your eyes immediately caught a glimpse of The Wayne under the sandwich header.
"Wayne as in...Uncle Wayne?" you asked with a laugh, and Eddie couldn't have looked any prouder if he tried.
"Yup," he puffed out his chest. "Nothing amazing ever happens in Hawkins, but if you can guess the Super Bowl winner accurately at the beginning of the season for 5 years in a row, you get a sandwich named after you at a bar."
"Shut up," you laughed. "He did not."
"Swear on my mother's grave," Eddie leaned forward and challenged you.
You both ended up ordering the Wayne, and Eddie spent most of dinner telling you Wayne's Scientific Method to choosing the winners, and then the way the winning streak broke.
"He put twenty dollars in a pool at the plant," he explained. "Figured he'd been guessing right at the Hideaway for so long without getting anything more than a free dinner out of it, he might as well try to win a little cash. Turns out fate only meant for him to win a hearty chicken dinner and nothing more, so he didn't try to tempt the Gods again lest he incur their wrath."
The sandwich was delicious, the company even better. And you held hands across the table pretty much the entire time.
---
Back and forth, back and forth the cootie catcher went, and you groaned when you saw the outcome.
Bowling.
"I'm not good at it Eddie," you tried to persuade him to choose again. "I'm gonna embarrass myself."
"Too bad, I'm not good at it either. We'll both look like idiots together."
"I'm wearing a dress Eddie."
"This is our destiny!" He exclaimed with a tone of finality, hand on the gearshift to put the van into drive. "And before you try to fight me on it, I'll even let my chivalry take a hit and let you pay for the first round of beer."
Knowing that a win was a win, you agreed.
Reluctantly.
The Roane County Bowlarama was something out of a time capsule, though, and that in and of itself was a novelty. Casino carpet and funky modular chairs and a neon light that sat over the pristinely waxed hardwood lanes in a very kitschy style that proudly advertised the Bowlarama's foundation in 1960.
It certainly smelled like nostalgia in here.
Eddie went to get your shoes while you meandered to the little concessions counter to get two solo cups of cheap beer and a soft pretzel with plastic cheese for the two of you to share.
As you got your score cards written up, you confided in Eddie that the only time you'd ever been bowling was for a birthday party for a classmate when you were in the 7th grade.
He just laughed and told you it had been the same for him too.
He pointed down to one of the lanes where a family was happily bowling with their two small children.
"If you go over there, I'm sure you'll still see the dent in the floor where I dropped the ball," he whispered. "It was too heavy and I went to go bowl and it dropped out of my hand and almost cracked the hardwood. And I vowed never again."
"Then why did you put it on the Cootie Catcher?" you asked incredulously.
"Well, we've gotta look stupid in front of each other sometime, right?" he reasoned.
“As though we haven’t done that already.” You shook your head. "Eddie Munson, you are something else."
"I know." He bowed proudly and then went to take his turn.
At the end of ten frames, you turned in your scorecards and your shoes at the counter, all the while snickering as the attendant read out your abysmal scores.
You'd beaten Eddie, sure...but it wasn't hard to beat a zero.
Was he really that bad at bowling or had he let you win? You’d never know.
---
It had been a great night but it was getting late by the time you got back out to the van.
Normally, you wouldn't mind a longer Sunday night out with Eddie, even if you had work and he had school in the morning. Honestly, you couldn't quite give a shit if you were tired for a Monday morning call with your boss or to unpack shipment boxes.
Still, you stopped Eddie before he could fish the Cootie Catcher out of the cupholder on the console.
"What's wrong?" he frowned. "You getting tired? Too tired for a late night snack? I put Dairy Queen for ice cream and Bradley's for a mystery snack adventure as options."
He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, trying to entice you into letting fate take you once again.
The thing was...ending the night wasn't really the thought on your mind. It had been a great night out, reminiscent of those few early Sunday nights, cruising around Hawkins and finding someplace new you hadn't been yet.
But part of the fun of some other not dates with Eddie were the times you got to spend alone. Even recently, as you started cuddling and making out on the couch or stealing kisses in the food court at the little table hidden closer to the JCPenney entrance while sharing cheese fries, it was the intimacy and closeness you cherished. Those times spent together were spent in a world just for the two of you.
And as the night went on and you came to that realization, Mindy's words echoed through your head: Horizontal Tango.
God, ok, that was not the way you wanted to think of it, but it did get your mind on that night. The last time things had started getting heated between the two of you, the night you thought everything had been ruined before you both realized that there were some actual feelings deeper than friendship there.
That had been...nice.
Sure you'd been high, but laughing and groping and kissing and grinding...
Yeah it was more fun to do all of that with someone than to take care of things on your own with your imagination or one of the bodice rippers you secretly bought at Waldenbooks at your disposal.
One of the bodice-rippers with a love interest that your brain had started to fill in with a certain metalhead that was your then-crush and now-boyfriend.
Suddenly the more you thought about it--actively thought about it--sitting here in the van with Eddie, surrounded by the scent of his cigarettes and his Old Spice cologne, having just had probably the best date you could ask for...you realized that you wanted more too. With him.
More than a quick fuck at a party or a romp on a couch.
You wanted Eddie.
First date be damned.
"Sweetheart?" Eddie pulled you from your thoughts. "We can call it if you want. If you're too tired to drive, I can take you home now and...I'll pick you up for work tomorrow before I go to class."
"Uh." You worried your bottom lip, at a loss for words, as your hand still gripped the top of his over the center console. He was being so kind, so chivalrous, so thoughtful with this whole date, all of these sweet plans...you didn’t want to undercut the effort he’d put in.
How did one just ask their boyfriend to have sex with them?
"Do you wanna have sex?"
The words escaped your mouth as though you were on autopilot, and both you and Eddie stared at each other dumbfounded as the question hung heavily between you.
Well that was one way to do it.
"Wha...whe...like? Here? Now?" He stared at you wide-eyed as he questioned. There was a beat and then he shook his head and stared down at your hands in silence.
What you wouldn't have given at that very moment to hear the thoughts that were clearly racing through his head, as he visibly tried to compute the situation you were both in.
You felt your chest get tighter and your heart raced.
See? First date, no fooling around. You should have trusted your instincts.
"I mean...yes,” Eddie finally blurted out. “But it wasn’t on the cootie catcher.”
It was silent for another moment, then you both broke down in hysterical laughter.
Unintelligible words were shared as you both relived the last few tense moments with intense clarity—basking in the silliness that could only be shared between the two of you—and then you both seemed to have a lightbulb moment. Eddie turned in his seat to grab something from the back of the van while you dug for something in your bag.
It was a race to see who could get there first, and Eddie won as he fell back into the driver's seat with a sharpie held in the air like his ultimate prized possession. You abandoned your own search and began carefully unfolding the cootie catcher and before long, on the inner most flaps, new adventures for the night were written.
Blizzards at DQ was soon scribbled out in favor of Your Place.
And Mystery Snacks from Bradley’s replaced by My Place.
Eddie started situating the fortune teller over the tips of his fingers when you grabbed his wrist.
“What if we don’t end up getting either place?” You asked a little stupidly.
“Well then I guess we’re gonna head to the civic center and play Boggle with Gareth’s mom and dad, Sweetheart,” he snarked. “Pick a number.”
Back and forth the cootie catcher went as you called out numbers.
Until Your Place sat proudly on display between you.
“Alright then,” Eddie placed the cootie catcher back into the cup holder and then clapped his hands. “Your place it is.”
---
For as bold as you both had been in the van, it was unexpectedly awkward when you got into your apartment.
It was a moment of being in a place you'd both been a hundred times together before, but the implication of why you were there made it difficult to simply begin.
You both ended up on the couch for a while, watching some late night reruns and sharing a pint of Rum Raisin until you were calm and comfortable enough to share tentative kisses and touches in front of the glow of the tv.
"This isn't..." Eddie chuckled when you found yourself horizontal on the couch and he kissed his way down your neck and across your décolletage. "This isn't like a porno."
You both broke down in laughter again and he admitted that that thought had been on his mind all night, along with the possibility that this would be waiting for the two of you at the end of the date.
"I had that thought," he continued once the laughter had subsided. "Last time we were like this. That's...do you remember I...god did I honk your boob?"
"You did," you remembered fondly, even though the outcome of that encounter was anything but a fond memory.
"I think that's why I did it," he ran a finger along the neckline of your dress, which caused goosebumps to erupt along your arms as you shivered with anticipation. "I don't need to be anything with you except myself. I don't have to be the...hot boyfriend or the hunky pizza guy or anything. I'm just me, and you're just you."
"You can't make me cry before we fuck," you told him matter-of-factly, and dragged him back up so you could kiss him again.
"Actually," he broke away again and his brows shot up into his bangs. "That's another kind of porno. We can add that to the list for next time ok?"
That set the pace and the expectation for the rest of the night: intimate moments punctuated by words and laughter.
There was no rush, so you took your time to explore one another's bodies. You moved from the couch to the bed and clothes came off one piece at a time, including socks which both of you agreed was the least seductive piece of clothing to remove.
"But I did read about this thing with tights once," you bit your lip in too-little-too-late realization, after you'd chucked your pantyhose into the corner of your bedroom. "It was kind of hot."
"I'm making notes," Eddie tapped his temple twice. "Don't worry. Next time."
And if you ever had the impression that Eddie was a bad student, all of that doubt vanished because he was incredibly studious when it came to your body. Both of you were as you licked and kissed and groped. You took the time to find spots that were sensitive or ticklish, that generated moans or giggles.
Boy, did you find out how much he liked to giggle.
You traced along the hazy ink of his tattoos with the tip of your tongue, in awe of the imagination that he'd put into each piece of artwork permanently etched on his body as he stammered out a brief story of each one. He told you about something he wanted along his ribcage, and when you went to kiss along the proposed path, he burst into a fit of laughter that almost rocketed him off the bed.
Soon there were more panting breaths than breathy laughter. As Eddie took his time worshipping you, committing every dip and curve and crease of you to memory--just like all the other things that he seemed to take note of--and the way you hiccuped and moaned as he lavished you with attention.
You both became teachers, showing one another just how you found pleasure alone--Eddie quick to admit that his solitary ministrations might have been done to the thought of you--before tonight. You were both happy to oblige each other's desires with your hands and mouths.
You quickly realized how much you liked the way that he stuttered your name as you suckled the head of his cock, and he seemed to take that as a challenge when he kissed and sucked your clit in return, the first partner you'd ever had to think to do so and not just fumble with zero thought or coordination.
"I'm a sex god," he boasted, chin resting smugly on your mound after you'd finished riding the crest of your first orgasm. "What can I say?"
"You're so full of it," you scoffed. "But you can say whatever you want if you just promise me you'll do that again."
"Oooh, gonna especially take note of that one," he said mischievously as he walked his fingers up the length of your body and then took your hand in his, both of you ready for the pièce de résistance of the night.
It was a lazy kind of fucking, even though the two of you were as wound up as you were; however, considering that you'd both had an entire day of work and then a lengthy date and foreplay, neither of you could complain.
You could have headboard-banging, heart rate-climbing, frenzied, nasty sex anytime you wanted for however long you'd be together.
"Hopefully forever," Eddie whispered against your mouth after you'd reassured him of just that, as he sank into you and realized that he was more comfortable in the cradle of your arms and thighs than stiffly knelt above you. "You promise?"
"Hopeless romantic," you muttered in return. You moaned as he slowly bucked into you and created a delicious drag of his fingers on your clit again. "But yeah, I promise."
There were very few words after that, just sounds. Pants and sighs and sucking kisses; a few swears as you both found the peaks of your pleasure, and finally an "is there any more of that ice cream" once Eddie collapsed beside you when it was all over.
You both couldn't help but brag how great it had all been come morning, when he drove you back to the mall for work.
Or when you showed up at his place the following night to do it all over again.
Next Chapter: Longevity
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ch3rriiii-bunn · 8 months ago
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Hello!! It’s me again. I am simply obsessed with the Kokushibo x fem! Reader that I requested, the “after hours” story. Like, it’s my favorite story currently.
I’m wanting to request a nsfw Muzan x fem! Reader where he has a maid (reader) and he saw her on the floor trying to scrub a spot off the floor that is refusing to come off. (her maid uniform/ outfit is short so her ass is peaking out) So he decides to pick her up by her forearm and leads her to his bedroom/chamber (not sure what to call it) and fucks her. (Not unwanted sex.)
I swear, requesting nsfw is awkward.😭
I’m so sorry for this request being a really long request, I hope this makes sense.😭
Please, take your time and have a good weekend and good next week!
Temptation
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Pairing: Muzan x Fem!maid reader
Synopsis: Muzan seeing his maid bent over while cleaning and her not realizing how hard she made him♡
Content: Maid outfit, clothes on sex, Muzan is a ass man, Muzan being somewhat nice 😱, Dom Muzan, size kink (Muzan has a big pp), sub reader, Horny Muzan, doggy style, oral (M receiving), throat fucking, praising/degrading, edging, cum eating, creampie
Word count: 2.5k♡
A/n: Nooo don't feel awkward!!! You made a lot of sense dw. Hope you like this!♡
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"How frustrating," Muzan said to himself in a low growl under his breath as he walked into his home. Nakime teleported Muzan back home after today's many failed experiences to make a replica of the blue spider lily. He has been trying to conquer the sun for many years and has invested his time searching and studying about this flower.
Knowing this, an annoyed day is very usual for Muzan. He is rarely satisfied, but today, he was angry. Angry another day went by with a failed experiment, and none of his upper ranks brought him news about the flower he desperately needed. Muzan lossend his tie and kicked off his shoes off at the front door and made his way inside with the intention of heading to his bath to relax.
However, he stopped once he turned the coner and saw you. His house maid on the floor, on your hands and knees, scrubbing the blood stain off the floor with all your strength. Usually, Muzan would be angry at you for being in his way, but it's like all the anger he felt from today was just gone once he eyes lay upon your ass from behind, admiring it's shape when your bent over.
You stopped and let out a heavy sigh. You leaned over more to rest your cheek down on the back of your hands. "Why is human blood so hard to get out? Wish it was a demons blood.. it would've just evaporated," you breathlessly said to yourself. You hadn't noticed Muzan come in yet, and with how you're bent over, it was only natural for your short skirt to ride up and expose your behind.
Muzan couldn't look away. His eyes narrow, seeing how the lining of your panties dig into the flesh of your ass and his eyes looked down between your legs to see how your panties also hug your pussy in place. Muzan's jaw clenched. He tried to hold himself back. He "didn't have time for this" or at least that's what he repeated in his head.
However, Muzan just couldn't push his thoughts away. His body couldn't either. Muzan's jaw lossened to let out some breaths, his fangs exposed, and his eyes looked down to his crotch. His body grew hot and he felt the blood rush down to his cock and saw the bulge for in his pants from his hard cock. Muzan couldn't take it anymore. It's been so long since he had a pretty human Satisfy him, especially after tonight.
Muzan needed you, and he needed you now. He cleared his throat for you to notice his arrival, and you snapped out of your exhausted state. You quickly turned around, fixing your skirt, and sat down on the floor. "Welcome home, Lord Muzan. I'd greet you better, but as you can see.." You chuckled nervously. "The stain is quiet hard to get out," you explain.
You were prepared for Muzan to throw some kind of insult at you but not prepared for his response. "I prefer this greeting." Muzan said. His lips were once a frown when he came into the house and now curled into a smirk. A lustful smirk. You opened your mouth to say something, but then your eyes lingered to his lower half and seen the bulge in Muzan's pants.
Muzan took notice of you seeing his arousal and walked closer to you. Close enough for his crotch to be inches away from his face, not hiding it at all. You couldn't help but stare at it for a moment and observe how big his bulge is up close. You got curious to know just how big his cock really is out of his boxers but then you tried to snap out of it and looked at Muzan.
Muzan chuckled. "Dirty girl. Curious to see a demons cock mm?" He said and watched your eyes widen in embarrassment. You forgot. Muzan can read minds, not just demons, but humans too. "I'm sorry, Lord Muzan," you apologized. Muzan gave you a soft grin and brought his hand to your head, and petted your head.
"Oh darling. I don't think a simple sorry can fix this. Just look at how hard you've made me from seeing you bending over like a bitch in heat and having that pretty ass out for just anyone to see" Muzan smirked as he pushes your head towards to have your cheek softly rest on his hard on. Your heart was racing from the excitement. This wasn't on purpose, nor was it planned.
You were simply tired from scrubbing the floor to notice Muzan's arrival. However, you couldn't help but enjoy how things were turning out. It made you feel good knowing you were able to make Muzan this hard. You felt it on your cheek, of course. It would be a waste to turn down this golden opportunity from a handsome, attractive demon like Muzan.
"Master should I.." Your words trail off in a seductive tone as you take off your cleaning gloves. You slide your hand up his muscular thigh and over his bulge. You couldn't help but tease it by rubbing his tip though his pants and then giving his cock a little squeeze. "Fuck.." Muzan swore under his breath and grabbed your hand, stopping you from teasing him anymore.
You were about to apologize, thinking Muzan didn't like that, but he pulled you up from the ground. Before you could balance yourself, Muzan bent down to sneak his hand under your thigh and picked you up, holding your body over his shoulder. "Lord Muzan-" you held onto Muzan as he carried you to his bedroom. Once inside, he kicked the door shut behind him and put you down on his bed, almost throwing you.
"I give you permission to call me Muzan." He said and motioned his finger for you to bring your face closer. You adjust yourself to aline your face to his crotch. He let out a soft sigh as he felt the tightness around his pants release once you've unbuckled his belt and pulled out his hard cock.
Muzan is big, you thought as your hand stroked down to the base and back up to his tip. Your hand squeezed around the thick width size of his cock as well. You looked up at Muzan. A look that thought if you could really take it but he chuckled. "I take if you've seen smaller. You're about to have sex with a demon darling. We're quite bigger then human males. You'll get used to the size." Muzan pet your head again.
You nod and open your mouth to wrap your lips around the tip. Muzan let out a soft grunt as you start by sucking lightly on his tip and rolling your tongue around it, teasing his pre cum. "Your lips are so soft.." Muzan said through a heavy breath. "I could put you to better use than just a maid. Now let's open that mouth," Muzan said and watched you open your mouth. "Yes, that's it- f-fuck" Muzan moaned once you got his cock half way in your mouth.
You took him, little by little and deeper, bobbing your head and moaning each time you felt his tip hit the back of your throat. You continue to lay on your stomach with half your body up, using your hands to support yourself, and look up at Muzan. He moaned at the site of how pretty you looked and thrust his hips forward a bit. "You're too good at this~" He said and placed both hands on your head.
"You're gonna make me cum soon. Breath through your nose, and don't you dare gag" Muzan said, already having that slight fucked out expression on his face, close to his orgasm. He thrust his hips forward, groaning at how your mouth squeezed his cock in as he fucked it. "That's the face I want to see," Muzan said, seeing your glossy eyes and knit brows and the feeling the vibrations of your moans around his cock.
You felt your drool drip down your chin and onto your hands, tightly gripping onto the sheets as Muzan's hips thrust faster. His veiny hands having a firm hold on your head as he pleasures himself in your mouth till his thrusts came to a stop and releasing his cum inside. Muzan hunched over slightly and placed his hand to your neck, mainly having his thumb on your throat.
"That's it. Drink it." Muzan catches his breath and has his thumb there to feel more satisfaction, knowing you are drinking it. There's only so much you could take, a demon really can cum a lot and you felt some of his cum spill out from the side of your chin. He pulled your mouth off his cock and pulled his pants down to drop around his ankles.
"On hands and knees, now," Muzan said, standing at the edge of the bed with his cock still hard in your face. You cleaned your mouth and got up to turn around. "Let me see that pretty ass again~" Muzan bit his bottom lip as he watched you lift your skirt over you ass. He smirked and grabbed your ass. "All you did was suck my cock and your already soaked? Dirty girl," Muzan rubbed hus thumb up and down over the set spot of your panties.
You felt a bit shy at the call out of your arousal sate but you couldn't help but moan from the feeling of how his thumb rubbed your cunt through your panties, even feeling his thumb push harder as if it rip through your panties to be inside you. "These are in the way now," Muzan said. You felt his hand grip on your panties and heard a tear as he ripped them right off.
Muzan threw your ruined pantie over his shoulder, onto the ground, and began to slide his tip between your wet folds, to your clit. "I assumed you wanted to take off your maid uniform, but you seem to be getting off to the idea of me fucking you in it" Muzan's voice deepened as he brought his tip to your hole and pushes his tip in and out. "Not that I mind you keeping it on. I could've ripped it off if I wanted to, but you look so fucking good for me right now" he groaned.
You cover your mouth, moaning softly as he felt Muzan fuck you with just his tip until he stopped. You looked back and felt a harsh spank on your ass. Muzan's cock twitched, watching how your ass jiggled from his spank and felt your muscles tighten around his tip and hearing your sweet moan from his slap. "Muzan~" you whined out his name, practically begging for him to fuck you but he just clicks his tounge.
"I thought I've made myself clear. I said that once you're in my room, I'd get you to work. Or did you think that only applied to just sucking my cock" Muzan spanked your ass again. "No~ ooh~" your back arches as you moan. "Then get to it. Fuck yourself on my cock" Muzan said, holding his shaft in place and waited for you to back up on it. You take stady breaths, preparing yourself as he push your hips back, moaning as you felt his cock go inside.
Muzan let out a deep sigh as he felt your walls tighten around his length and how your pussy sucked him in as you move your hips back and fouth. Your ass smacking back against his lower half. "Feels good?" Muzan asked, and you nodded your head, biting your bottom lip. Muzan spanked your ass again, harder this time until you felt a sting. "I asked you a question. You know I hate repeating myself." Muzan said.
"Yes! It feels so good~ really good Muzan" You whimper and begin to fuck yourself back on his cock faster until he grabbed your hips. "Uh, uh. Slow." He said, and you let out a desperate moan as you go back on it slowly. "That's it. Ask to go after when your ready to cum." Muzan teased. You were getting close, you reached your hand down to rub your clit.
Each time you move your hips back, your moans grew Louder and you began to rub your clit faster. "Please~" you begged, over and over. "Please, what? Speak up." Muzan huffed and spanked your ass again. "Please~ c-can I move faster? I need to cum" you begged, looking back at Muzan who had a devilish grin on his face. "Yeah. Go ahead and cum on my cock"
As soon as you heard those words, your ass smacked back against Muzan, filling the sounds with skin smacking against each other and moans. "Muzan!" You rubbed your clit faster until your hips stopped and your legs shaking as you came on his cock. "Good girl." Muzan moan, mixed in wjth a growl as he grabbed onto your hips and began to thrust his hips. "Good- fucking- girl," he said and fucks you through your orgasm.
You gasped, moaning loudly as his hips thrust fast and hard. You heard his deep moans and heavy breaths. It's like he was holding back before and is now fucking you like he wants to fill you up with his cum. "Taking my cock so good" he grunted as his hands push down on your hips, making you arch your back more, till you decide to rest your upper body on the bed, eventually getting you in a face down, ass up position.
"Muzan~ Muzan, please-" You whine loudly, feeling his big cock deeper inside your sensitive cunt. You moved your hand back behind you to Muzan's thigh, to some what, push him back. "Move your fucking hands" Muzan demanded, his voice deepening as he grabbed your hand and held it behind your back. "M-Muzan i-" "How dare you think you get to cum and make a mess on my cock and try to hold me back?" Muzan cut you off as he grunts.
Muzan grabbed both your hands, holding them behind your back with one hand and continued to fuck you. "M-sorry~" you slur your words. "I-Im just so sensitive- Muzan," you whimpered. "Too Sensitive to take my cum in your sloppy cunt?" Muzan asked. No, I'm not! Please cum inside me, please~" you begged and heard his deep grunts and moans softly turn into whimpers as he fucks you.
Muzan was already close. His hips snacking faster and slopper until he stopped and all he could mutter out was a, "fuck" as his tip kissed up against your cervix and released his thick load inside you. Like before, you felt so much cum. You moan into the sheets as you feel his thick load inside and splat out of you on the bed. Muzan calmed down enough to steady his breathing again and slowly pulled out of you.
Muzan placed his hand on your ass cheek but then pressed his thumb on your asshole. "This is what happens when you bend over like that in my house." He smirked, knowing how much you also enjoyed it and he leaned down towards your ear.
"How about we go another round and I train this hole to take my cock next?"
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simplydannie · 7 months ago
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A story that suddenly came to my mind one day. And I just couldn’t shake it off! I apologize for the angst 💔
Velvet and Veneer are sent back to Under Rageous to serve the rest of their term, until one day, a bail comes for Velvet and an invitation back to Mount Rageous.
One condition: Veneer is not invited and has another fate awaiting him. What will she choose?
Prison. Otherwise known as the Mount Rageous Detention Center for Troubled Youth.
That’s where Velvet and Veneer stayed for the first couple of months. But the truth was brought to the surface eventually… the twins were from the under-city… and that region could take care of their own.
The twins were in a black vehicle headed back down to the Under Rageous facility. The ride was long and silent. Velvet and Veneer sat in the back seat, handcuffed, still sporting their orange uniform. Veneer looked over to his sister.
“Hey Vels.” He attempted to make small talk. Velvet had ignored him since they got to prison. The last words she spoke to him was at the Rage Dome, where he made everything go to hell. She wanted no part with him. Velvet practically forced them at the detention center to room them apart after she severely beat him up. She didn’t care what he was up to, many times he requested to see her, but she refused, she just couldn’t stand him at the moment.
“Vels?” He attempted to say it again, but she continued to ignore him. He missed her voice, he missed the interaction between the two of them. After all these months of not talking, they felt like strangers more than siblings. Veneer did what he did for their own good… at least he hoped so… it didn’t feel like it now that they were headed back to the under-city.
The lighting outside lost its brilliance, its joy, they knew the full, gloomy light of the under-city. The darkness that loomed over them, no light, nothing coming through from above. They glanced upon the darkened buildings, the dark cybernetic feel of what is Under Rageous. The car continued further until they came upon a facility. It was about 4 stories high, walls dark and gray….the Under Rageous Detention Center for Criminal Youth… yes, big difference.
They were escorted from the car towards the front gates. At least the detention center in Mount Rageous was adorned in jewels and gems, beautiful white plastered walls. It felt like a resort… but this one, this was made to feel more like prison, more like hell.
They walked through the front gates and into the building where a Rageon was waiting for them. He was tall, pale skin, though not nearly as pale as the twins. Short, dark red stringy hair, buzzed from one side. He was dressed in all black: cargo pants, boots, jacket. When he smiled, he displayed his filed down sharp teeth.
“We’ll take it from here gentlemen.” He shooed away the Mount Rageous guards. Without hesitation, they left the twins in the presence of the mature Under Rageon. “Well, well, Velvet and Veneer. What an honor. I have to admit you hit down here as much as you hit up there… just not for the same reasons. Follow me.”
Without a word the twins followed him down the hall. They walked by cells that contained for less friendly, far less attractive inmates. These inmates defined the word brutal in both appearance and attitude. Velvet walked by unbothered, while Veneer shrunk himself smaller.
“Now here in Under Rageous, you broke the most important rule we have: do not talk about the kidnapping or torture of Trolls to anyone..”
“Tell that to him.” Velvet gestured at her brother. Veneer swallowed the lump that formed in his throat. The Under Rageon turned and cocked his head, a smirk forming in his lips.
“The fate of your sentence has yet to be determined. In the meantime, enjoy your stay.” He opened the cell that would house both twins.
“No. I’m not staying with him.” Velvet signaled to her brother.
“Oh?”
“Last time I almost killed him. Unless you want that blood in your hands.” She stated.
“I honestly don’t care what you do to each other. But I need you both unharmed in the meantime, but very well. Follow me pretty boy.” The Rageoun motioned. Veneer gave Velvet a terrified glance… him? Alone? At an Under Rageous prison? But Velvet could care less. She walked into the cell and never looked back at him. The Under Rageous guards grabbed him firmly by the arm and led him away. He glanced back at his sister, hoping she would turn around, hoping she would change her mind, call out his name…she never did…
The guard guiding Veneer shoved him fiercely, “Keep walking.” Veneer glanced at the cells as they passed by. They were full of scary looking Under Rageons…Under Rageons that could definitely rip out his throat. The thought of rooming with one of those guys was terrifying. He hoped and hoped he wouldn’t. Veneer was escorted to a cell where they shoved him inside.
“Traitor.” The guard mumbled before he left. Veneer cocked his head to the side. Traitor? Was he really a traitor? Perhaps he was….he did betray his own sister up at the Rage Dome. He threw her under the bus along with himself. Perhaps he should’ve spared her. He should’ve lied and said it was all his idea, leave her out of it. He sat on the bed and buried his face in his hands.
“I am so sorry, Vels.” He whispered. He had to make it up to her, he just had too. But how? They were on opposite ends of the prison now, and she dared not talk to him. Standing up he walked over to the desk within his cell. Veneer rummaged through hoping to find….
“Yes!” He exclaimed, pulling out a pencil and paper….He would write. He would write to her hoping she’d accept his letters….He would write to Floyd, hoping the little Troll would respond to him. But he had to be cautious, he couldn’t give the people of Under Rageous any idea where the Trolls were…so perhaps writing to Floyd would have to wait…
Days rolled by, and it was obvious the twins had to be kept away from the Under Rageous inmates…for the twins' own good. Velvet had nearly gotten into a couple of fights before Veneer jumped in to save her. She knew it was his way of trying to make up to her, trying to talk to her, but she wouldn’t give in. At one moment an inmate was severely beating her brother, but Velvet didn’t budge, she didn’t move…. She enjoyed watching the pain. Why? She never really enjoyed it before? She would rage at anyone who touched her brother that way. But there, in the yard, as the giant boy swung away at Veneer’s face, Velvet’s eyes began to glow pink…Her desire was for Veneer to feel the pain she did at his betrayal…and this was it.
Keep hitting him, he deserves it, her mind raced. She was broken out of her trance when the guards came in to break the fight apart. The tall, red-haired head Rageon returned, “You guys aren’t going to make this easy are you.” He smiled a sharp toothed grin.
They spent the rest of the passing days isolated from the rest of the compound…and each other. Velvet began marking the days on her walls. Eventually those days turned into weeks. She continued to receive letter upon letter from Veneer. Velvet would just throw them away, he still wasn’t worth her time, perhaps he may never be worth anything again. She began to wonder what would be of her…What was the penalty down here in Under Rageous?
A black SUV type vehicle pulled up in front of the Under Rageous detention center. The door was opened and an adult female Rageon from the upper city stepped out. Her white heels clicked down the hall. Her suit was maroon, adorned in jewels and gems. She had sepia colored skin and carob hair pulled into a ponytail. Her sunglasses covered her eyes. She continued to walk until she was at the door of the lead Rageon of the establishment.
“I assume you’re in charge.” She demanded as she stood by the door.
“Please, make yourself at home.” He mocked standing up from behind his desk. He didn’t really care or like Mount Rageons much, but this one was breathtaking.
She crossed her arms and clicked her heels against the floor, “Word got to my boss that our twins were sent back down here.”
“Really? After all these weeks you barely notice? Not very observant are we?” He smirked.
She ignored his mockery and continued to speak, “It was against my bosses wishes. She’s going to deal with that later. For now, what’s the bail price on our girl's head?” The male Rageon tilted his head, confusion plastered on his face.
“Velvet. What is her bail price?”
“I was not told they would be out for bail. There is a penalty for what they did, rather, what they stupidly admitted too.” He responded.
“If I remember correctly, Veneer was the one to openly admit to using Trolls. Now, I will only ask one more time. What. Is. The. Bail. Price.”
There was no staring this woman down. She was the definition of power…she was part of the power up in Mount Rageous, which meant money .... and lot’s of it.
“For the troubles she nearly cost us: a quarter million.” His grin was smug. Perhaps the price was too high even for the snobby upper Rageons…
“Done.” She responded plainly. He was lost for words, his mouth gaped open at her quick agreement.
“You’re serious? A quarter million for some bratty teen.”
The woman smiled, “Oh you don’t know the half of it… Besides, you’re going to like this part next.”
“And what is that?”
“My boss is able to pay double the price if you could deal with our little disappointment we call Veneer.”
The male Rageon smiled, “Okay, keep talking.”
A couple more days since the meeting between the two Rageons had passed. Velvet continued marking up her wall. Her room was a mess as she rampaged through everything, tossing and tearing everything out of anger. She felt weird, something about her wasn’t right… she didn’t feel right ...what she wanted was more Troll. The essence they gave off gave her a euphoria like never before. It caused the chemistry in her brain to feel and think in ways she could never have thought of…it had made her body feel strong and energetic. Now, she felt weak, vulnerable to the world…
Her thoughts were interrupted as two guards came in. They tossed her a duffle bag. “Pack up.” They told her.
“What.” She plainly demanded.
“Pack up. Your bail is here.”
Veneer was in his cell writing another letter to his sister. He’d lost count how many he has written, and to none did she ever write back. He’d wish he could write to Floyd, but has yet found a way to here in the under-city.
Loneliness began to settle in each passing day. He didn’t do well with loneliness… that’s when the dark thoughts began swirling in his mind. Funny, he’d never had those thoughts before, only recently after using the Trolls essence. A nagging feeling and desire to hurt himself would daily come, as if his body craved for that sensation. Veneer would do his best to fight it off, but he didn’t know how much longer he could.
The doors to his cell opened. He turned to find two guards coming in, cuffs in hand.
“W-what did I do now?” He stammered.
One guard smirked, “Time for your sentence of your penalty.”
“P-penalty? I thought we w-would just serve our time and b-be done.” Veneer began to stutter as his nerves kicked in.
“This ain’t Mount Rageous, pretty boy.” The guard came over to him, tightly securing the cuffs around his wrists. Veneer winced at the coldness and pain the cuffs sent throughout his body. They led him out and back down the hallway…. They led him past Velvet's cell… it was empty.
“Hey! Where’s my sister?!”
After gathering her things, Velvet was escorted towards a back exit. She held her bag close, in its pocket she stuffed some sort of shank, a weapon, just in case things went south. Who in the world would bail them? And why? At the end of the hallway stood the tall male Rageon they met when they first arrived.
“Leaving us so soon?” He smirked as he opened the door. Velvet hesitated, but eventually, she stepped out the door….in front of her was a black SUV. Standing right by it was a Rageon woman: sepia colored skin, carob hair…. Velvet recognized her right away.
“There’s my little pop star.”
The two guards ignored Veneers demand and continued to pull him down the hall.
“Where’s Velvet?” He began to pull, he began to resist.
“Enough beanpole!” The guards began poking him with more force as Veneer continued to resist.
“Velvet!” He called out hoping he’d hear her voice. What did they do to her? Where did they take her? He’d kill them all if he found out she was hurt. “VELS!” He called out again.
“What the hell? Why are you here?” Velvet crossed her arms and stared the woman down.
“Why do you think so?” She gestured towards the car. “We bailed you out. All crimes have been washed from your record. The little “incident” that occurred at the Rage Dome has been taken care of. You’re free to come back and live the life you once had.”
Velvets mouth dropped… she could go back? She could get out of here and go back…the fame, the adoration, the love she could get once more. She came back to reality for a moment
“Where’s Veneer?” Velvet asked.
“He’ll be taken care of, but this invitation back up top is only extended to you. Unfortunately, your brother has failed us, he won’t be invited back.”
“So he stays here?”
“As I said, he’ll be taken care. We made sure of it. It’s the least we could do, actually.” The woman opened the door. “Well, what will it be?”
Velvet had a choice… remain here in hell with her brother, or go back and redeem herself in Mount Rageous. She had no intention of stopping, it was Veneer who spoiled everything when he decided to be noble. Why did she have to pay for his stupid decision? She already had anyway… he wanted this, so he could suffer here alone.
Velvet picked up her duffle bag and made her way inside the car. She didn’t see the woman smirk triumphantly. She looked at the tall male Rageon still at the entrance to the facility and gave him a small nod.
“Show time boys.” He said as he went back inside.
“Let me go!” Veneer thrashed and struggled, he managed to hit one of the guards nearly freeing himself.
“Kids a fighter.” They murmured to themselves. Slowly, but surely they finally made it to their destination… the medical ward. They kicked the doors open as they pulled in a strugglingVeneer.
“Where’s my sister!” Veneer demanded over and over. He headed butted a guard.
CRUNCH!
“AHHH YOU LITTLE BRAT!” The guard held tightly to his nose as it began to bleed. Finally free, Veneer ran towards the direction from which they came. He opened the doors…
THUD!
Running full force into a body he fell back.
“And where do you think you’re going?” It was the tall, red head, male Rageon. He snapped at his guards behind him, they rushed over and got Veneer back on his feet. Four of them carried him to a seat in the far corner of the room. Veneer continued to struggle as they strapped him down.
“W-what is this…” Veneer looked at his surroundings: needles, syringes, some type of bottled chemicals all aligned the drawers and shelves. The male Rageon took a small wired pad, he unbuttoned Veneers shirt and placed it over his heart. He strapped his head against the headrest.
“It’s your penalty.” The Rageon smiled.
The car ride back to Mount Rageous was silent. Velvet glanced to her left… where Veneer would normally sit. He’d always be next to her. It felt weird… it felt wrong. Was she doing the right thing?
She finally broke the silence, “How will they take care of him?”
The woman looked up from her phone surprised, “Excuse me.”
“Veneer. You said you made sure they’d take care of him, how?” Velvet asked again.
The woman smiled, attempting to sound and look sincere. “We made sure no harm would come to your brother again. That he spend whatever time he has down there in peace…. He won’t suffer. We promise you that.”
A guard rolled up Veneer's sleeve as the head male Rageon gathered a liquid into a needled syringe. The heart monitor began beeping loudly as Veneer grew nervous.
“Penalty? What penalty?” He asked.
“Someone didn’t like what you did. Neither did we. You almost exposed are high value black market down here. This wasn’t going to be in the books, but these people paid handsomely.” He flicked the needle to make sure the liquid was secured
“…. Paid for what?” Veneer asked again.
“Why, your death penalty of course.”
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP…
The heart monitor went out of control as genuine fear entered his body. He attempted to pull himself free, but he was stuck tight.
“Where’s my sister? I want to see her please.” He begged.
“Sorry kiddo. Your sister decided to go back. Live the life of luxury.” The man smiled as he neared Veneer with the needle.
“No… she wouldn’t… you’re lying…” Pain set in Veneer's heart. Did she really just abandon him? Leave him here to his death?
“Vels!” He cried out as he struggled against his restraints. She wouldn’t leave him, she’d come in right now to stop them. “Vels!!”
“Hold him steady.”
The guards around Veneer placed a firm grasp on him. Even through his restraints he managed to move and thrash.
“VELS!” He cried again, tears staining his eyes. “VELS PLEASE!….. FLOYD!… IM SORRY! ….PLEASE SOMEONE!”
The male Rageon inserted the needle…. And pushed the liquid through…it came quickly….
An irresistible calmness overcame Veneer's body, he could feel himself begin to grow limp.
“….Velvet…..Floyd…” His voice began to turn into a whisper, the heart monitor began to slow down.
BEEP…BEEP…BEEP
Yet, he still tried fighting the chemicals that tried to claim his body, but it wasn’t enough. Veneer saw his vision begin to blur, he lost all feeling in his body, the only thing he could still feel was his heart beat slowly fading….
“Vennie. Sweetheart, can you hear me?” He heard his mothers voice. A peace began overcoming his body
“…mom…” He barely whispered.
“It’s okay honey. Let go. Come home to us. We miss you.”
“…. okay…..”
The heart monitor flat lined.
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thebawdybaldurian · 1 month ago
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Kinktober Day Three: Orgasm Denial/Uniforms
I was a little stuck on the prompt for today from the first list I’d been using, since none of my OCs are very domme-y, so looked up a second and still managed to get the first prompt incorporated eventually with some sexy role play. This is another scene with my modern AU versions of Tav, Halsin, and Astarion. The story got a little long and I didn’t get a chance to write the scene I’d first intended too (locker room threeway), so that addition will be up on Patreon as well.
Content and Warnings: oral sex, fingering, squirting, voyeurism, anal fingering, role play with costumes, orgasm denial, frotting, brief mention of piss kink, group sex, acrobatic sex, deep throating.
Pairings: Femme Tav x Halsin, Halsin x Astarion, Halsin x Tav x Astarion
After quitting rugby in college, Halsin hadn’t had the heart to play much, occasionally playing pick up games when he could find them. He hadn’t played in years, ever since moving to the farm in Reithwin and having no options for finding teams. Now that he was making frequent trips to Baldur’s Gate to see Addy and Astarion, he decided to look into joining a league again. He began working with Astarion’s personal trainer, Minsc, who was helping him strengthen some of the key muscles that had gone soft with age. Thankfully Halsin had been able to find a league of older men, so he wasn’t having to face twenty-year olds with their knee cartilage intact. He arrived at the Baldur’s Gate train station a day ahead of his first game, Addy waiting out front to pick him up. “Awwww, I was kinda hoping you’d be wearing your uniform,” she teased, giving him a long and welcoming kiss after he’d put his bag in the trunk.
“It’s not exactly the most comfortable thing to wear sitting down for six hours,” he smiled, gripping her backside tightly to kiss her deeper. “The shorts tend to ride up…and I wouldn’t want to accidentally pop out and surprise the little old lady sitting across from me.”
“Ooooo are they very short?” Addy purred, shutting the trunk and climbing in the driver’s seat. “Do you go commando in those too?”
“I wear a cup and jockstrap under them…You’re going to the game to support me and not just gawk at my body, right?” He asked, climbing in the passengers seat.
“I’m great at multi-tasking,” she blushed, leaning over to give him another kiss. “But I’m mostly just happy you are getting back to something that you enjoy.”
“Thank you for sponsoring the team,” he rubbed her thigh as she began to drive home. “Even if you did name it after yourself.”
“Hey, the TAVs is a great team name! And the bright pink uniforms are so cute!”
“We couldn’t ask for a better mascot,” he grinned, slipping his hand further up her thigh and under her dress. “Are you wearing something like this to the game?”
“I have something different picked out…I wouldn’t want to distract you sitting up in the bleachers…flashing you every chance I got…”
He let out a low growl, eager to get back to her penthouse and make up for the tenday they’d spent apart. Astarion had already gone off to work, so they had the place to themselves for a few hours. They made out in the elevator and Halsin had immediately boosted her onto the kitchen counter and slipped off her panties so he could have a taste of her. “Mmmmm…why don’t we move to the bed so I taste you too?” She suggested as his mouth sucked hungrily against her slick lips.
“I always abstain before games,” he breathed hot against her delta. “This is just…a cheat meal.”
“Ohhhh,” she whimpered, his tongue curling deep between her slit. “Okay…eat as…uhhmmmm…much as you like then…”
He did indeed, making her come several times before he had his fill, leaving her a limp puddle of slack muscles. He unpacked his things in the guest room as Addy regained the use of her legs and began getting dinner started. “This smells good,” Halsin came up behind her as she hovered over the stove.
“Lots of protein for my big bear,” Addy replied, letting out a quiet sigh as he nuzzled her neck. “Ethically sourced of course…and I’ll have a nice breakfast ready for you in the morning before your big game.”
“You are spoiling me,” he kissed down her neck, reaching his hand up her dress again. “I intend to return the favor.”
“Just….mmmmm,” she moaned, his fingers teasing around her cunt and asshole. “Save a little energy for after the game…I’m going to need to fuck you when you are still filthy.”
“Only if you promise to wear a little skirt and no panties…so you don’t even need to take it off.”
“Can I flash you a little too?” She pressed back against him, his fingers now moving inside her.
“Right before the game,” he hissed, nibbling her ear lobe. “So I have something to play for.”
He brought her to climax several more times, making her dribble onto the floor in pool of ejaculate fluid. “You…have these games once a tenday…for three months?” she panted, leaning onto the counter afterwards in total ecstasy.
“Mmmmmhmmmm,” he licked his fingers clean, searching for a towel to clean up the puddle at her feet. “So expect a lot of this the night before.”
“Sure,” she sighed, looking back at him with a content, but exhausted smile. “I’ll be sure to hydrate myself better.”
They settled on the couch to eat dinner and watch Astarion’s show, keeping a plate warm for him when he returned. He found them necking on the couch, Addy finally changed out of her dress and into some sweats. “You two have been fucking all day, haven’t you?” Astarion smirked, pulling off his suit jacket and loosening his tie.
“He’s abstaining until after the game tomorrow,” Addy blushed, her sweats already slightly damp from just kissing. “Though it hasn’t stopped his mouth and fingers from giving me a workout.”
“What a pity,” Astarion grinned, pulling the lid off his dinner. “I was hoping we’d be having our own scrum tonight…that’s what it’s called, right?”
“It is,” Halsin climbed off the couch, giving Astarion a welcoming kiss. “Though I wouldn’t mind a little extra protein if you are offering it.”
Addy perked up, sitting taller on the couch as Halsin and Astarion continued to kiss, Halsin’s hand rubbing against Astarion’s groin. “Mmmmm, let me finish this first,” Astarion pulled away, taking another bite of food. “You aren’t the only one that’s famished.”
Halsin kissed down his neck, rubbing him harder and feeding him bites of food with his other hand. “At least come around to the other side so I can watch,” Addy grinned, leaning over the back of the couch. They were half hidden by the kitchen island and Addy wanted to see everything.
“I think you should stay right…uhhhnnnn….there…so I can watch you…and you just have to imagine what his mouth is doing to me,” Astarion suggested as Halsin unbuckled his belt.
“Okay,” she whimpered, licking her lips and slipping a hand under her sweats. “Just make sure it’s nice and sloppy…and wet…so I can hear it…”
“Yours too, honey bee,” Halsin grinned, sinking to his knees and disappearing behind the counter.
Astarion let out a loud groan as Halsin slipped his cock into his mouth, Addy moaning excitedly from the living room. “Does he feel good, baby?” Addy asked, circling her fingers around her clit. She’d yet to see the two of them solo together and it was torture knowing what the island was hiding behind it.
“Very good,” Astarion grunted, his belt buckle clinking as Halsin pulled his trousers to his knees and teased a finger against his asshole. “Just one finger tonight, big bear.”
Addy whimpered loudly, slipping a few of her own inside herself. “Ohhh…please let me watch,” she begged, humping against the back of the couch in desperation. “Or let me suck you too…”
“Ahhhhnnnn,” Astarion moaned, looking down at Halsin taking him to the hilt with a happy grin. “Maybe after you make yourself come first.”
“I can do that,” she squeaked, riding her fingers faster and making the couch rock.
“Should I make her put on the cheerleading costume too?” Astarion looked down at Halsin again, who was still deep throating him. Halsin nodded, pulling his cock all the way out with a wet suck.
“I think she should do a little routine too…ending with the splits…” Halsin grinned, cupping his lips around Astarion’s balls.
“That’s buried in the closet somewhere,” she whined, gripping tightly to the cushions with her free hand. “And I haven’t stretched…”
“You better hurry then,” Astarion groaned, his entire sack cradled in Halsin’s warm mouth. “The way he’s going, I’ll be finished soon.”
She whined even louder, pounding her hips against her fingers, cheating a little and faking her climax with dramatic moans. Both Astarion and Halsin knew her sounds well enough to know that she’d fibbed, but let it go, giving each other a knowing smile. “Let me taste first,” Astarion stopped her as she climbed off the couch and headed eagerly towards the bedroom closet.
“You know how much I’ve wanted to see this,” she pouted, reaching her fingers up to Astarion’s mouth as she looked down at Halsin tonguing Astarion’s tip. It made her pounding clit ache and she let out a plaintive whine. “Couldn’t we just save the costume for tomorrow?”
“No!” They both said at once, grinning at her desperation.
“Patience, my heart,” Halsin cooed, nuzzling Astarion’s cock along his lips. “We need to see your enthusiasm.”
“What do you call this?” She pulled her sweats down, revealing her pulsing pink lips covered in honey.
“Someone who couldn’t finish the homework we asked of her,” he clicked his tongue at her engorged vulva.
“That’s your fault,” she huffed, pulling her pants completely off in a tantrum. “You made me come so much, it’s taking longer than usual.”
“Oh you poor thing,” Astarion teased, giving her ass a loud smack. “Get that uniform on and maybe you can practice on my pole vault too.”
“That’s not even the right sport,” she growled, padding back towards the bedroom with purpose.
“She’s quite haughty when she’s horny,” Halsin grinned, slowly stroking Astarion with a gentle, edging fist.
“She is,” Astarion grinned, caressing Halsin’s face. “Should we move to the bedroom so she can perform some of her acrobatics for us as well?”
“I’m barely holding on as it is,” Halsin shifted his throbbing balls with his free hand. It was taking a lot of effort to remain soft and he wanted to be pent up for his first game back.
“You know, you could still have some fun with us…and just not finish?” Astarion pulled Halsin to his feet, kissing his salty pre-cum off his lips. “Addy and I have done a little orgasm denial in the past…I’m sure she’d be up for it.”
“Hmmmmm,” Halsin growled, letting his tongue linger in Astarion’s mouth. “I’ve only done that with myself…to build up my…stamina for longer sessions…”
“If Addy is in the mood…she can leave you begging on your knees…kissing her feet…promising her the world to let you come.”
“She already makes me want to do that,” Halsin smiled, pulling Astarion’s hand down to the bulge in his jeans. “But let’s give it a try.”
They wandered slowly towards the bedroom as Astarion rubbed Halsin’s cock stiff, pulling it out as they reached the main bedroom walk-in closet. Addy was one her knees, pulling things out of a large chest of old Liar’s Night and tour costumes. Her knees were spread wide, a bead of honey swaying between her thighs as she impatiently searched for the cheerleading costume she’d worn several holidays ago. “Ahem!” Astarion cleared his throat, his hand working down Halsin’s shaft as Halsin did the same to his.
She looked back at them with her mouth agape, watching them stroking one another and looking down at her with intent. “I thought you were…abstaining…saving…the…” she mumbled, her eyes transfixed on their fists pumping in sync on one another. The bead between her thighs grew thicker and fell to the ground in a quiet splat.
“It seems the head cheerleader found two athletes getting frisky in the locker room and decided to punish them for trying to blow their loads before the big game,” Astarion grinned, leaning against Halsin as he milked a dribble of pre-cum out of his cock. “Isn’t that right, Halsin?”
“She’s been teasing us both with her short skirt…not wearing any panties…we had to do something about these hard cocks in our jockstraps. Even if we lose the big game.”
“We can’t have that…can we?” She grinned widely, getting a sense for the scene they were suggesting. “It’s my job as head cheerleader to not only motivate you…but to keep you disciplined…no premature celebrations…no reward unless you win the day.”
“Mmmmhmmm,” Astarion grinned, giving Halsin a long kiss and rubbing his cock against his. He could see out of the corner of his eye that she was touching herself and pulled away. “We are going to hit the showers…you better hurry and come find us before someone accidentally slips and lands balls deep inside the other.”
He pulled Halsin away as she let out a deep, shuddering moan, turning back to tear through the chest. Astarion and Halsin finished undressing one another and got into the shower, gently frotting and making out under the warm cascade of water. “That…uhnnnn…costume must really be buried,” Astarion grunted, sinking to his knees before he risked erupting across their stomachs. He sucked hungrily on Halsin’s thick tip, licking up all the pre-cum that dribbled across his tongue.
“Did you…hnnnggggg…ever do anything like this…with your college track team?” Halsin groaned, pushing the wet curls out of Astarion’s eyes as he took him in his mouth. Astarion shook his head, giving a few long sucks before elaborating.
“They were all painfully straight and more concerned about counting calories than sucking cocks…one of them asked me to piss in his mouth once on a long distance run, but I think he was just actually thirsty,” Astarion replied, pulsing his lips around Halsin’s glans and massaging his balls.
“Is that something you are into…?” Halsin wondered. “If I ever found myself… thirsty?”
“If you were into it, I suppose…I don’t really like degradation play though…”
“It would be more like…needing to taste…every part of you,” Halsin replied, gently stroking his cheek.
“Now that I like,” Astarion cooed, nuzzling Halsin’s cock with soft kisses.
Addy was listening just outside the shower, quickly changed into her uniform and her hair pulled into a high ponytail. She rubbed away the throbbing pressure on her clit to tide herself over, holding her pleated skirt tightly above her waist. She finally interrupted them with a clearing of her throat, leaning against the archway to the walk-in shower with a stern expression. “What are you two doing?” She asked, putting on her best head cheerleader voice.
“Just showering,” Astarion replied sheepishly, standing up and turning away shyly.
“With your mouth around his cock?” Addy put her hands on her hips.
“It got very dirty during practice,” Halsin smiled, turning his eyes down like he was in trouble. “And very stiff…he was just helping me clean it…”
“And how did that happen?” Addy asked, letting her fingers subtly pull her skirt up a little. “You should be concentrating on the playbook.”
“We saw you doing your tumbling…and your skirt came up…you should really be wearing panties when doing that sort of thing.”
“I’m head cheerleader,” she smirked. “I can do whatever I want…you two are supposed to be focused on practicing and saving up your stamina. You want to win the big game, don’t you? Win that nice, shiny…wet trophy?” She asked, lifting her skirt up completely and showing off her glistening, pink sex.
“More than anything,” Astarion purred, licking his lips and turning back towards her. “But I’ve never held a trophy before…can we both hold it at once? What if I drop it? It looks…awfully slippery…”
“It is,” she used a hand to spread herself wide, showing off her dripping lips. “I suppose you two could practice a little with it…as long as you don’t celebrate too early…”
“Just a little practice…and motivation,” Halsin replied, squeezing another dribble of pre-cum out of his cock. “Until we win…”
“Alright,” she purred, letting her skirt back down and taking a wide stance on the far side of the shower. “Turn off the water…and get on your knees.”
“Yes Addy,” they both nodded, turning the taps off and kneeling down in front of her.
“Now I just want you to watch me handle it first before you two have a go,” she slipped a hand under her skirt, gently petting her fingers down her slit. “It’s a delicate trophy,” she sighed, leaning against the wall to hold herself steady. “You can’t both be grabbing and pulling on it at once. You have to share. You have to rub and polish it to keep it shiny, alright?”
“Yes Addy,” Halsin nodded, swallowing a mouthful of hungry spit.
“Is your cock still dirty?” She looked down at him, his erection wobbling towards her, begging for attention. “Or did he do an adequate job cleaning it?”
“You interrupted us before he could,” Halsin shook his head slowly.
“Stand up then,” Addy motioned. “I better assist him.”
She sunk to her knees, joining Astarion’s mouth around his shaft, smacking her lips loudly along it before capturing Astarion’s mouth around Halsin’s tip. “This is so hot,” she whispered, giving him a thankful smile.
They took turns wrapping their mouths around Halsin’s cock, swallowing the thick streams of pre-cum leaking from him. He was so turned on, knowing that he wouldn’t be coming tonight and anticipating the ‘trophy celebration’ after the game. Addy finally took full control of Halsin, nudging Astarion aside and letting him finger her as she stroked his cock. She let Halsin take a firm grip on her ponytail, fucking her face until she was gagging and he was nearly spent. “Ahhhh…fuck!” He panted, finally pulling her mouth away. “I think that’s as clean as it can get,” he moaned, wiping the thick trail of saliva off her chin with his thumb.
“I’ve been polishing trophies and cocks for years,” she grinned, looking down at the thick dribble coming off Astarion’s glans. “Yours looks like it could use a quick spit shine itself?”
“But what about all this?” Astarion pulled his fingers from her cunt, threads of sticky arousal pulling between his fingers. “Perhaps he can help you practice some tongue acrobatics while you shine me up?”
“We should dry you two off first and use the mirror to get the alignment correct,” she grinned, getting back to her feet.
She led them out of the shower, handing them towels as she stretched her back out in front of the large floor to ceiling mirror. “She’s so fucking sexy…how can you stand it?” Halsin whispered in Astarion’s ear as they dried off, watching her lean down into a full back bend. Her skirt crept up just below her cunt and she was in the perfect position to take a pounding.
“I don’t…” Astarion purred, giving himself a hearty rub with the towel before walking over and squeezing her breasts in his hands. “I take it standing, sitting, upside down…however she wants me to…”
“That’s right,” she laughed, kicking up into a handstand, flipping her skirt over as she balanced carefully. “Now I can spend about five minutes here without getting light headed,” she grunted, spreading her knees into a butterfly position. “So get your shoulders under my knees and start eating, big boy.”
Halsin let out a hungry growl, putting his head between her legs and carefully getting her settled before lifting her off the ground. “Oh fuck!” Halsin muffled into her wet honey pot, her back resting against his chest as Astarion got into position in front of her. The view in the mirror was incredible and he dribbled a bit into her pony tail. Astarion had to crouch down slightly to get his cock in her mouth, but it put her throat at just the right angle to slip in completely and with ease.
“Gods!” He gasped, holding tightly to Halsin’s shoulders as she began bobbing her head, her legs squirming as Halsin ate her out. “Just…ahhhh…pinch me when you are done, baby,” Astarion huffed, reaching further into her throat than ever before. “Unless I…uhhhhh…need to quit first.”
He thrust gently past her lips, his knees bowing slightly as she took every inch of him in. Astarion shared another smile with Halsin, locking eyes as they both felt pure bliss with their beautiful songbird. He pulled out of her throat right before he spent down it, leaning into share his tongue with Halsin and her honey.
“Ohhhh fuck,” she cried, her thighs quivering around Halsin’s neck and her breath ragged. “That’s…all I can take for now…”
“Here, baby,” Astarion helped slide her body down Halsin’s chest, cradling her under her arms as Halsin’s tucked her knees over his elbows. They carefully set her down on the bathroom counter, letting her catch her breath and her blood settle away from her head. “Do you need a break, honeydew?” Astarion asked, lavishing her with kisses as Halsin rubbed her back and did the same.
“Maybe a cold drink,” she sighed, rounding and flexing her back. “Gods help you if I’d been doing this kind of stuff when I was twenty,” she grinned.
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kykyonthemoon · 10 months ago
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Chocolate misunderstanding
— Pairing: Thoma x Reader
— Tags: short, soft fluff, high school AU
— Summary: You and Thoma have been neighbors since forever, but now you want more.
— Word count: 1532
— Masterlist
— Ao3
This is a story for 2024 Valentine's Day Character x Reader series, which includes:
Thoma Neuvillette Xiao Childe
---------------------------
Out the window it was bright. You had gotten up quickly enough to avoid the alarm clock going off before it could. With a smile on your face, you headed downstairs to the kitchen to begin the day.
On the kitchen counter sat a pretty box, dark brown hue with a red ribbon on top. You picked it up with great care, holding it in your palms like it's the most valuable piece ever.
"Is that chocolate? For whom?" Your mother walked in, watching and giving you a knowing smile.
"Who else would it be for?" That voice came from your dad, who joined the room after her. "Definitely for the neighborhood kid."
With innuendo, Mom and Dad exchanged glances. They already knew! And your face started to turn redder than your mother's basket of ripe tomatoes when you stuffed the box into your school bag.
"It's for nobody." 
You replied in embarrassment, just wanting to get into a corner so you wouldn't have to listen to your parents make fun of breakfast in this manner. They all knew who encouraged you to learn to make chocolate for this special occasion. Perhaps, everyone knew, except for that specific person.
There was a screech as the bike braked in front of the yard. On the bicycle, the boy with blond hair like ripe rice beckoned to you.
"Y/N!"
A beat missed in your heart. It felt so strange, even though he came every day to take you to school. Your heart throbbed inconsolably as you walked down the steps. Knowing the worth of the gift inside made the bag you were holding heavier. You grinned.
"Good morning, Thoma!"
Thoma tossed his head towards the back saddle, waiting for you to mount steadily before starting to roll. The streets were quiet in the morning. Thoma donned a white uniform under a light wool waistcoat today. The scent of spring blossoms blending with the wind and a hint of fabric softener from Thoma's body wafted from the back seat of the bike. Your cheeks lit up with guilt once more. Fortunately, he did not glance back to witness it.
Before long, the ride to school was over. ou held Thoma back before entering the classroom:
"Well... I have something to tell you... Let's meet at the school gate after class, okay?"
"Don't we meet there every day to go home together?"
You timidly replied, realizing your own ridiculousness or Thoma's for not getting your implication: 
"Well... Just see me there!"
Having said so, you made your way into the classroom, leaving Thoma scratching his head, not understanding what was going on.
Your relationship with Thoma had always been the same. As neighbors. Schoolmates. But lately, you realized you wanted more. You blamed spring air and these darn, stupid teenage feelings. After many failed attempts spanning nearly a month, you eventually created a scrumptious batch of chocolate. The most adorable ones were packed into the box that was located within your school bag. It was merely awaiting an opportunity to express itself.
You left class as soon as the bell announcing the end of the school day rang. Waiting in a familiar place on the school grounds, you noticed several other girls, just like you, with boxes of chocolates in their hands. After all, it was Valentine's Day. While waiting, you began to imagine all sorts of Thoma's reactions upon accepting your gift. How would he react? Joyful? Surprised? Or worse, would he reject the heart you had put into this?
In any case, you were prepared mentally. You had decided to bravely face this feeling, and accept Thoma's answer. But you would never see what was about to happen so quickly. Right when you caught Thoma's figure in the distance, you also saw the most popular girl at school walking towards him.
In her hand was a box of chocolates, which seemed bigger than yours. She muttered something while holding it out to Thoma. Groups of students gathered closer, chattering around them. You focused your gaze on Thoma. With a sheepish look, he extended a hand.
No!
You screamed, but who could hear your heart breaking inside? The bridge of your nose stung, your vision became blurry as you turned and ran away. What else could you do? You were not even given a chance with Thoma like this.
*
* *
It had been a week since you were not seen with Thoma. You decide to take the school bus, which took a longer route and also to avoid him. Of course, Thoma didn't understand what was happening. He came to your house a few times, but never did you agree to meet.
By the eighth day, Thoma did not seem to tolerate the coldness from you anymore. He waited at the school gate at the end of school. Spotting your figure, he hurried over to block the way. 
"Y/N! Please talk to me!"
"What?" You replied in a cold tone.
"Why are you avoiding me? Did I do anything to make you sad?"
Thoma's eyes expanded like those of a puppy's. Innocent. He was innocent. But what did you do wrong, other than secretly having a big crush on him? It made dealing with Thoma more challenging than before. Being his closest friend, you were bound to hear everything there was to hear about his new flame. It felt like a heart choking.
You took a deep breath, then pretended nothing had happened.
"No. You didn't do anything wrong."
"Then why..."
Without waiting for Thoma to finish his sentence, you stepped forward. But he grabbed you by the arm, cornering you.
"There must be something..." His breath brushed your face. So close.  "You don't talk to me, you don't come home with me... I'm sure I did something wrong that kept you avoiding me all week."
"Thoma..." You tried to keep your voice in a normal tone. You could not let him detect the disturbed pulse in your chest. "People are watching us..."
Several other students caught the two of them cornering each other against the wall. Thoma still refused to let you go. He went on:
"Unless you tell me what went wrong between us, I won't let go."
Thoma's eyes locked on you, as if you could not look at anyone else but him. In those eyes, you sensed sincerity, earnestness, and a hint of hurt. It had been a week of Thoma's worst mood. And realizing you had wounded him out of selfishness, you began to feel hurt as well.
"The truth is..." You started explaining. "I did make you chocolate… I just don't know how to deal with you... after you got that chocolate box from someone else..."
Thoma looked puzzled. He asked:
"I got chocolate from someone else? Since when did that happen?"
"On Valentine's Day last week..."
Thoma winced briefly before realizing what you were talking about.
"Oh my!" He exclaimed, followed by a burst of laughter. 
"Are you laughing at me?" You scowled with irritation.
"Yes! I’m laughing at you! Because of how silly you are!"
Then Thoma became quite serious. "I refused that chocolate box," he remarked, glancing at you. "I don't like receiving chocolate from other people, if it's not from... you.." 
You rolled your eyes. 
"Huh? What?..."
"I went to your house but couldn't see you. Your mother only told me that you had been sad since Valentine's Day. I assumed some moron would have the audacity to turn you down. I was on my way to find out who it was and teach him a lesson after this conversation with you..."
"H-Huh?..."
Thoma might have misinterpreted that you were rejected by someone, which explained why you were unhappy for such a long time. All you could do in such a ridiculous scenario was sigh.
"Well, that kind of stuff didn't happen. Let's not bring it up again."
"But..." After a moment of hesitation, Thoma took out a small chocolate bar from his bag that was carefully wrapped. Your hands trembled as you accepted it.
"Is this... for me?"
Thoma gave a nod. "I apologize... I had no idea that you were making me chocolate. I… I should have made the first move a long time ago so you wouldn’t be so confused about us..."
You held Thoma's chocolate bar, looking both puzzled and pleased. It came to light that you had been moody for nothing this entire week. 
"I-It's okay... I ate them all... Not very tasty, I must say."
Thoma laughed, then placed one of his hands in your hair, messing it up purposefully.
"You can do another batch for me!"
"No more chocolate making." You pouted. "It’ll wear me out. And there's the chance of experiencing heartbreak!"
Thoma's cheekbones flushed in the pale afternoon sun. "I'll definitely eat it all. I'll eat only chocolate made by you. Promise!"
You grinned, holding up the gift Thoma had just given.
"Your words and this chocolate bar, I'll take this as a love confession, okay?"
Thoma averted his face, but his smile was visible to you. You sat closer behind him on the way home, gently resting your hands on his waist. 
-The End-
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Note
Your octane story is cute! Could you possibly do a short story for Elliot? With maybe a non legend? 🥹
Thank you!! Of course! 🥰
Mirage/Elliott x Fem!Reader
Warnings: none! This is mostly fluff with a suggested smut. 💕
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You were going to photography school, it was the one thing you could see yourself doing for a long time without getting tired of it. Finally the end of the semester was nearing and your final was to go to a red carpet event for the Apex Legends. Get some good shots, which would prove difficult due to the sheer amount of paparazzi present. But you managed to not only get awesome pictures of the Legend Mirage but you got to interview him!
That’s how you two met. Now, somehow he was your boyfriend. Dating Elliott Witt was a dream, he would dedicate some wins to you and would always somehow bring up “my girlfriend y/n” into almost every interview. Nobody knew your face and you preferred it that way, you didn’t want that publicly.
It had been months since you lay saw him in person. The only interactions you got were calls, texts and FaceTime. Which were great but you missed his hugs, his cooking, his kisses, and the snuggles. You and Elliott hadn’t gotten intimate yet due to his boundaries. He was uncomfortable with the idea of having sex when you hadn’t been together that long, his heart couldn’t take giving someone that side of him if they were only going to break up. But you’ve been dating for 6 months now. Sure you haven’t been physically together most of that time but he’s visited you a handful of times.
Gosh you missed him, you decided to see when the next event was and maybe surprise him there. You found the dates and immediately booked a spot to be right next to the carpet. Getting excited you packed the moment it was final and headed out for the airport when it was time. You kept texting Elliott as if nothing had changed, saying you were doing projects and that you were gonna be a little busier than usual so replies might be slower. He didn’t mind of course, sending encouraging words and gifs, mostly of himself. You laughed and couldn’t wait to finally be in his arms again.
You landed and made it to your hotel, plopping onto the bed in your room. The event was tomorrow! You had to get on something he liked. White button up shirt with a little vest on to show your shape and his favorite jeans that you owned. It hugged your body and showed all his favorite bits. That was the perfect outfit. You could hardly sleep that night you were that excited, but you slept and woke up bright any early to shower and get ready. Everything was perfect, your hair and makeup were on and you made sure to use a lip stain so you didn’t leave little marks on his face, not that he would care. He’d wear them with pride.
You got a ride to the event, camera in hand to blend in and snag some pictures of the other legends on the carpet while you waited. Soon enough they began walking one by one down the way and you finally saw your man. Mirage himself. He was walking with a clone of himself and they were ‘complimenting’ each other before ‘noticing’ the paparazzi. “Oh! Hey! We didn’t see you there. How’s it goin’!” His clone vanished and he began to smile and pose for the camera. His iconic finger guns and winks. He was so handsome in his legends outfit.
“Mr. Witt! Can I get a shot over here?” You call out.
“Well that’s a fancy way to get my attenti-“ he turns to look at you and the moment you locked eyes his expression went from his usual expression for the camera to a wide eyed smile. “W-WHOA! It’s you! You’re here! Like actually here! Unless you pulled a me, but wait.. you can’t do that. Y/N!!” He rushed over to you and lifted you over the rope barrier and hugged you. The embrace was so warm and his musk was stained on the uniform he wore. You nuzzled into him trying to soak it up. He pulled back and kept his arm around you. “This is my girlfriend!!” He shouted proudly. You felt a blush creep onto your face and you looked up at him. “Isn’t she just amazing!!” He laughed and looked at you, not caring about the cameras for a moment and kissed you right there. You almost rested up when you felt his lips on yours. You were home. “Gosh I missed you..” you whispered and he smiled and pulled your hands up, kissing your knuckles. “I missed you a whole much.” Elliott was known for stumbling over his words but right now he was calm and he knew what he wanted to say to you.
Once the event was done and over with you reconnected and he introduced you to everyone. You were happily greeted by most of them, a lot of em teasing Elliott for landing someone so pretty and all he could do was agree with them. He took you back to your hotel and you guys ordered in, watched a movie and cuddled the whole time. You at one point started to kiss on him which of course turned into a makeout session on the bed. Straddling him as his hands rested on your hips. You could feel him get excited but you didn’t do anything about it, not wait to push his boundary.
He pulled back, catching his breathe and red on his cheeks. “C-could we. Uhm.. Yaknow. Do the thing..? O-only if you want!” There’s his stumbling. “Baby, are you sure?” You ask, making sure he was positive. “Yes! I’m so sure, very sure, extremely s-sure! I just I missed you a lot and I really want to be.. uh… closer?” Poor guy was a mess. You kiss him deeply and began to take off your clothes.
The rest of the night was filled with love and closeness between you two. Finally together again.
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uptoolateart · 2 years ago
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The colour scheme in 'Emotion'...right??? Symbolically upholding the episode's very title. It's taken me ages to get around to writing this up. Let's take this in parts.
White
At the Diamonds Dance, they're all in white - except Kagami, who I'll get back to. I analysed white to death in this post about Gabriel's new outfit, so I won't go into it again here. In quick summary, I think the white at the dance showed uniformity, blankness, loss of identity, coldness, a total lack of true emotion...a backdrop for the colour that gets splashed on later. As the heirs to the family fortunes, these kids are not allowed to have their own personalities, passions and lives. They are paper to be written on by the toxic adults.
Red
As mentioned, Kagami stands out as the only one in colour - red, no less. She's like blood on snow. Red brings to mind the heart, vigour, courage, anger, religious fervour, love - in other words, passion.
Kagami really lacks this in her life - but she wants it. It's definitely in her, waiting to be expressed. After all, she's an artist. And we saw how she got with Adrien. But at every turn, she's pushed back into herself, apologising for having desires and needs.
Then Felix swoops in and kisses her hand, confusing her and making her flustered. When he's revealed for who he is, and he makes the people disappear, she comes at him in attack. One way or another, he inspires in her all the passion she normally holds in - job done, Felix.
Turning to Felix himself, he confesses that he created the red moon out of anger. In this case, his passion takes the form of rage. I mentioned in another post that he literally sees red and forces everyone else to see things through those red-tinted glasses, too. He acts as zealot, forcing everyone to jump onboard the same ideological train he was riding, though he then came to see this wasn't the way to uphold his beliefs, no matter how justified they may be.
And why a moon? Because for millennia, traditions all over the world have linked the moon with emotions - dreams - the subconscious. By flooding it in red, those were Felix's dreams, his passions, brought to life and imposed upon everyone in Paris.
Blue
Without the red moon, the colour scheme is blue. The fire is quelled, and we are left with water, in a sense - another ancient symbol of emotions and dreams and, notably, the unconscious. Think of the secrets the ocean hides. It's also a symbol of secrets coming to light - think of the moon illuminating the darkness. Felix was not only on the brink of outing himself but he was attempting to out the others and enable them to be their true selves, without shame, for the first time...albeit, he didn't go about it the right way.
And finally, blue is connected with sadness - and sometimes fear or confusion. Ever heard the expression 'blue funk'? In short, in red, Felix is insane. In blue, he becomes a sympathetic mess, shown through his tearful breakdown on the rooftop after he snaps away the senti-moon.
But you know...I'm inclined to say that even when losing himself in red, it was still better than the cold, blank white of that party. He definitely got that much right. He's not someone who allows others to write his story for him. Now he just needs to figure out how to channel both the red and the blue aspects of his emotions in a healthier way and leave people like Gabriel behind - because as long as Gabriel can fill him with that much rage, Felix is still under the man's control, regardless of who holds the rings or the peacock.
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clickerflight · 1 year ago
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Joseph: Part 5 - A Friend
Masterlist
Part 4
Had something happen today that made me lose a bit of steam for this story, but we're going to keep trucking. I probably got too caught up in looking for validation with my writing, but I think we'll be okay. I have plans for it and I'm going to keep going, I just might have to take a short break.
Content: Vampire whumpee, human caretaker, hospital setting, panic attack, grief, detailed memories of a character death
..................................................
Joseph enjoyed his music for most of the day, his eyesight coming back enough for him to see the small device where he could search for music and play it. He didn’t recognize the app, but he was glad for the music. 
He was bobbing his head to ‘Eye of the Tiger’ when he smelled someone familiar. He looked over into the hall, waiting until a man came into view. The man that had to be Joshua Muir looked to be of Mexican descent, clean shaven and wearing his hair just long enough he could pull some of it back into a little wolf tail. 
He wasn’t wearing a police uniform, instead wearing well worn jeans and a t-shirt. 
Muir opened his mouth in greeting and Joseph realized he was still wearing his headphones. He pulled them down, the sounds of the hospital greeting him again, but he could focus attention on Muir and it wouldn’t bother him. 
“Hi,” Joseph said, feeling once again safe as Muir sat down in the chair by the bed. 
“How are you feeling?” Muir asked.
Joseph shrugged. “I’m completely regenerated. The nurses said they were going to get some more blood into me overnight and then get me set up to go to a rehab center.”
“Nice. That was pretty quick,” Muir commented. 
Joseph nodded as the situation dawned on him for the first time since waking up. “Oh, stars, you, I….. Sorry. I shouldn’t have forced you to ride in the ambulance with me. You didn’t get in trouble, did you?”
Muir laughed. “No, not at all. Well, maybe a little but it wasn’t a problem. You needed someone to be there for you, man. It happens.”
He nodded a little. “Thanks for coming back. I hope I’m not keeping you from anything.”
Muir shook his head, a hint of sadness entering his expression as he said, “No, you’re good. I, ah, I moved to the city pretty recently. I don’t have many friends yet outside of some coworkers… but I guess we don’t really hang outside of work. This is…. Kind of nice, actually.”
“Oh,” Joseph said, surprised. “Alright then.”
There was a moment of awkward silence before Muir asked, “So, got any questions? 3 years is a lot of time.”
Joseph shrugged. “Haven’t really seen enough to have questions, I guess…. Have the fledgling laws passed?”
“Not yet,” Muir replied, looking slightly annoyed. “Well, parts of it have. People with terminal illnesses can apply to become a fledgling, but the stuff around people with chronic illnesses and terminally ill children got tied up in the courts last year.”
“Well, I guess it’s good there’s been some movement on that,” Joseph said.
“Yeah,” Muir said. “So, what do you like to do?”
“I like reading,” Joseph said with a shrug. “And D- my bondmate was teaching me how to play the piano. I used to work at a tech shop. I guess I was kind of, I dunno, stuck in a rut. Wasn’t really sure what I wanted to do with my life…..”
“Well, there’s plenty of time to figure it out,” Muir said with a shrug. 
Joseph nodded. “And you? What do you like to do?”
“My job takes up most of my time. I’m working my way up to being a detective. I’ve been a cop for a few years now and I’ve been studying to pass the tests they’ll need me to do. I’m pretty excited. The Chief has been pretty hard on me, which makes me think it’s going well.”
“How’s that?” Joseph asked, curious.
“Well, she’s a tough love kind of lady,” Muir said with a mischievous smile. “She’s been criticizing my work a lot lately, which tells me some big guns are watching me, trying to decide if they should try me out. It’s a bit early in my career for it, but I’ve been proving myself and I think they see it.”
“Oh,” Joseph said, intrigued. “That’s awesome, then! I hope it all works out for you!”
“Of course! And you’ll be the first to know if it does!” Muir said, his grin splitting his face. It drooped and he hesitated. “Er, if you want to be friends, that is. Maybe I can help you figure out what you want to do with your life.”
“Oh yes,” Joseph said eagerly. “I could definitely use a friend.”
“Good,” Muir said with a grin. “I wonder…. I want to talk to the nurses real quick. I’ll be back.”
Muir hopped up and left, the smell of his excitement still hanging in the air. Joseph slipped the headphones back on, not really paying attention to the music as he waited for Muir to come back. 
Muri came back after another 20 minutes, a bag in his hand. Joseph pulled the headphones off and Muir said, “Alright. The nurses said you can check out tonight.”
“Check out? Where am I going? With you?”
“Yup! I had some extra clothes in my car so you can put these on and we can get out of here. I thought you’d probably like to sleep somewhere quiet tonight.”
“Oh, I certainly do,” Joseph said, pushing the blankets off his lap and turning to sit on the edge of the bed as a nurse, the same one who brought him the noise canceling headphones, came to unplug him from the drips. 
Once that was over and the small holes in his skin healed, Joseph stood up, taking the clothes and heading into the bathroom to change. 
The clothing was a bit big on him, but after rolling the top of the pants down inside once they held just fine. He stepped out, shifting the shirt to sit properly on his shoulders before taking the shoes Muir held out for him. 
“We’ll get you some better shoes later,” Muir said with a smile. 
Joseph nodded, grinning. The two walked out, Joseph shuffling a little to keep the shoes on his feet. Muir had already registered his address with the lady at the desk and they were set to go. 
“I think the rehab people will come to meet you around 2 tomorrow? I’ll be at work, but the hospital will let them know to go to my house.”
“Cool,” Joseph said, his shuffling steps feeling strange. They were smoother than he thought they would be, as though there hadn’t been three years and a regeneration in between the last time he walked and now. 
“And then we can get you clothes and stuff tomorrow night,” Muir said as he got into his car. Joseph entered on the passenger’s side and buckled his seat belt, relaxing as heard the familiar sound of a car starting. 
They soon left the hospital parking lot and drove down roads as the sun to the left of them as they hit the highway. Joseph watched the world pass by in awe, the rumble of the car soothing to his fragile mind. 
Maybe he’d be fine. Maybe one day he’d be healed and forget about what happened and he could move on. Maybe when he had something good to do with his life and-
But who would he share it with? His bond with David was empty. It was gnawing on him, crushing his soul and begging to be fed. He had been without a pairbond for three years and his body and mind were beginning to realize it. David was gone and he could still remember feeling his pain through the bond, could still hear his screams. He remembered when the blade had entered David’s heart and killed him. The pain and fear had been unlike anything Joseph had ever felt. His and David’s mingle fear, the pain, David reaching through the bond searching for comfort, searching to be sure Joseph was still okay, and then the knife had come down. 
It was like losing a limb. Crushed in a combine’s mechanics, shattered and torn and shredded and bloodied and violently taken in a moment that could never be changed and never be reversed. The emptiness had consumed Joseph’s mind entirely. Going from all that noise to dead silence where his own fear and pain echoed down and back again through broken links. 
He would never get David back and the pain would last forever. It felt like it would last forever. How was he supposed to deal with it all? How was he meant to survive this?
He grabbed on tightly to whatever was pressed against him. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t hear, he couldn’t feel. All he knew were the memories of David’s gargled screams and the broken bond as his sire and bondmate died. 
He knew he would need to pairbond again eventually, and that sent a new wave of sorrow through him. Was it not enough to be on his own? To always remember David and cherish his memory? He was Demijeoa. He would have to pairbond again to heal, but he couldn’t imagine it. He couldn’t imagine pairing with anyone after that. 
He pressed his face into soft fabric, sobbing desperately, unable to alleviate the pain. He realized someone was running a hand through his hair, untangling it and running down his back in strokes, and then he recognized the smell. 
He lifted his head to find Miur looking out a window, though Joseph’s stirring brought his attention back down. “Hey, are you back?”
Joseph felt a wave of sorrow and embarrassment so strong it sent him to hiding in Muir’s shoulder again. 
“Hey, man. It’s going to be alright. Promise. Do you want to talk about it?”
“”S not gonna be alright,” he mumbled. “He’s dead.”
He felt Muir tense up, but he didn’t stop rubbing Joseph’s back. “I know, I’m really sorry.”
Joseph let out a shuddering sigh, simply letting Muir quietly comfort him. “I don’t know what I’m going to do.”
“You don’t have to. Not right now. Right now, it’s enough to just grieve. I know losing a bondmate is painful, even if I can’t really understand it.”
Joseph nodded before peeling himself away from Muir, scrubbing his face. 
“Are you going to be okay?” Muir asked.
Joseph just nodded so Muir turned off the hazard lights, signaled, and got back on the road. It was dark now, and Joseph was so tired he just laid his head against the window and let the rattle of the road bruise his head repeatedly. 
Joseph was asleep by the time Muir pulled into his driveway. He got out and went to the passenger seat, opening the door quickly and propping up Joseph to keep him from falling on the pavement. The vampire slept like a dead thing as Muir closed the car door with his hip and walked up the steps to the house. 
After some awkward shuffling, he managed to unlock the door and step inside. He walked through the house to his bedroom where he set the vampire on his bed. He coaxed the blankets over him and went back to the front door to lock it. 
After a quick snack and a shower, he got ready for bed and slept on the couch in the living room. 
………………………………………………..
Joseph woke in a comfortable bed wrapped in blankets that smelled enough like Muir to tell him that Muir had given his bed up to Joseph. He sighed, pressing his face into the pillow for a moment before rolling over and out of the bed. 
He poked his head out into the hall, looking around. There was another room set up with a desk and walls lined with cork board, though only one was in use. He soon found the bathroom and cleaned up before going to the living room. 
Muri laid on the couch, bundled in blankets and snoring very softly. Joseph hummed and decided to make breakfast. 
There wasn’t much in the kitchen and he ended up just improvising with some quick oats and eggs, as well as getting some coffee ready. 
He heard Muir wake up and smiled when he heard Muir’s small confused noise when he smelled food. 
He stumbled in, wearing sweatpants and a blanket cape as Joseph turned, scooting a plate of food across the island to him. 
“Got the coffee started a bit late but it should be done in a mo.”
“Thanks,” Muir said, surprised. 
“You're welcome. And no offense, but do you live on oatmeal, eggs, and canned chili?”
“Er, no. I tend to grab food while I’m working,” he said, fishing a fork out of the dishwasher and sitting on one of the stools to eat. 
Joseph rolled his eyes and sat down next to him once the coffee was done. Muir took the coffee eagerly, taking a sip and closing his eyes in delight. They ate in silence for a minute before Muir said, “So I guess this means you want me to buy more food.”
Joseph snorted. “Yes. You’ll end up with kidney stones if you keep eating like you are.”
Muir shook his head and downed his coffee. “Alrighty, then. I’d better go get ready.”
“Kay,” Joseph said, enjoying his breakfast a bit more slowly. 
When Muir came back, he was dressed in his uniform and ready to go. “I left a note on the computer with the password. Feel free to surf the web while I’m gone. Just remember-”
“The meeting at 2:00. I got it,” Joseph said, putting the dishes in the sink while he unloaded the dishwasher. 
“Yup. I might stop by on one of my breaks, but we’ll see.”
“Alright. See ya.”
“Bye.”
The door closed, the key scraped in the lock, and Joseph was alone. 
Joseph stood in the kitchen, his heart pounding in his throat as the silence pressed in on him. Silence like silver. 
He shook his head. He was not interested in having another breakdown today. Not right now. He was going to hold it together and if he needed to cry himself to sleep that night, then by the stars he would cry himself to sleep. 
He rifled through the kitchen, putting things away as he went along until he’d taken care of the dishes. He loaded the new ones into the dishwasher and closed it. 
He supposed the next thing he could do would be to catch up on what he’d missed. 
He went to the room with the cork board walls, glancing at the images and notes tacked there. It was a missing person’s case about a little girl. He hummed, looking at the little girl’s face. Did anyone look for him and David like this? Did someone in the world string up their names and faces, staring at them in the hopes that it would provide some clue?
Joseph shrugged off the image and sat at the computer, typing in the string of letters and numbers from the sticky note and opening up the search engine. 
He stared at the blinking bar for a moment, uncertain of what he should do before he started pulling up the social media accounts he’d had and opening them up to see what there was to see. 
Joseph: @not-a-space-alien @why-not-ask-me-a-better-question
From Dust to Ashes: @writereleaserepeat @currentlyinthespiral
Part 6
Let me know if you want to be on the taglist
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crystal-ball-of-ow-canon · 1 year ago
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In your post about how Gabe was being pushed aside for Jack in Genesis I wanted to ask why you thought Blizzard hated Reyes? Is it more than just how bad Code of Violence was?
I never really engaged with overwatch content back in the day until Overwatch 2 came out and all the controversy got me interested in the characters, so I wasn't around for most of the ride.
Thank you for asking! This is going to be a long one so buckle up
So before we proceed I want to clarify that part of “Blizzard really does hate Reaper” is a bit of a joke, a good old ribbing in Blizz’s direction just because of the lack of Reaper lore that we get and the lack of quality, it really does seem like Gabe gets the short end of the stick
And I’ve said this before but also me being critical of Gabriel’s story line and making these jokes that Blizzard hates Gabe and Blizzard doesn’t know it’s own lore isn’t me trying to attack any of the writers individually or as a group. Ongoing stories are prone to complications and change, that’s to be expected, Jeff Kaplan famously could not keep track of any of the lore and constantly said things that Michael Chu had to later come out and correct. A lot a lot of work goes into making Overwatch, mistakes often come from things being rushed or unable to be double checked (the video game industry should unionize) they have to deal with incoming demands from execs, they’re having to create new lore for new maps and new heroes, it is not an easy balancing act at all and these people are pouring their passion into something they care about and that is not to be dismissed
With all of that out of the way
Does Blizzard Hate Gabriel Reyes?
I have talked extensively about Gabriel Reyes on this blog, famously I have a giant actual 3000 word dissertation on my main critiques of how blizzard has handled Gabriel from his characterization to his lore.
To get specifically to your question tho, I don’t think inherently Genesis itself sidelining Gabriel is Blizzard hating Gabe, but more of what my anticipations for not only Genesis pt 3 as well as the hero mission will continue to handle him.
Genesis is an in universe documentary of the Omni crisis and the forming of Overwatch’s original strike team. Gabriel was the original strike commander however in the post I believe you’re talking about Gabrie does not seem to be the focus once the documentary timeline shifts to discussing the forming of Overwatch, something that would be weird (at least in my opinion) again given that again Gabriel is supposed to be strike commander at this point.
I did not mean to infer that the documentary itself was proof that blizzard hates Gabriel, I was merely making an observation that “wow Gabe sure is being pushed aside, almost like he’s not the strike commander lol”. I apologize if that’s what you took from it. I did talk a little about if the documentary is an in universe propaganda piece for Jack (thus justifying why Gabriel isn’t focused on) as Jack actually seems to be the one at the forefront of the strike team, he’s the one who shakes hands with Mina and his uniform is the very same as his strike commander skin. So the post was trying to say “I wonder if there was purposeful thought behind this decision or if blizzard straight up forgot that Gabriel’s actually supposed to be strike commander, wouldn’t be surprised because blizzard hates Gabriel lol”
The reason why I say “Blizzard hates Gabe” is a combination of things. I’ve already said they just can’t seem to keep his lore straight but that’s a more general problem. Gabriel just doesn’t get a lot of lore attention especially given the fact that he’s one of the key players in the story. One of my biggest problems is what seems to be the overexplaining of Jack’s narrative with the underexplaining of Gabriel’s narrative
“For whatever reason Blizzard feels the obsessive need to explain and justify Jack’s character. He has an origin story (which by the way doesn’t mention Gabriel’s tenure as Strike Commander making Jack infer that he lead Overwatch through the omnic crisis, I’m just saying), his animated Hero short, the Bastet short story where he shares a perspective with Ana, the Old Soldiers comic, and the Uprising comic. All there to show Jack beleaguered as he might be, still a good person trying to do the right thing because don’t worry he’s still a good guy. Gabriel gets no origin story, no dedicated short to himself, just the comic Retribution alongside the archives event, and finally in 2022 6 years after the game release the short story Code of Violence which turns Gabriel into the Punisher. Sure Gabriel is involved in a lot of stories, but we don’t much get his perspective on events and for someone who’s apparently the linchpin in the whole Overwatch story (being what really happened between him and Jack at Zurich), I kind of think there’s a discrepancy in point of views provided.” - my dissertation
Furthermore I have this whole thing where still to this day blizzard hasn’t given any good reason as to why Gabriel is in cahoots with Talon. There seems to be this giant double standard with how Blizzard frames Jack and how they frame Gabriel. I consider them two sides of the same coin, former military who have become disillusioned with the system seeking justice for the wrongs done upon them except Jack is a vigilante and Gabriel is… a terrorist again for no explainable reason (to keep me from making this tangent any longer I cannot impart how poorly blizzard has explained how Gabriel went from assassinating former the former Talon leader to working directly with/for Talon)
This has been an ongoing problem from the beginning, Code of Violence just made a lot of things worse as it is in general a bad take (and poorly received) as well as making the timeline more impossible
I hope this explained at least a little bit for you, again apologies for how long the post is (as you can see I’m a little neurotic about the whole thing)
If you have any more questions I am more than happy to chat (you can ask or dm me)
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sloelimbs · 1 year ago
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Babe I'm gonna give you total creative freedom bc I trust you completely, BUT if you want a prompt, let's go with 'pineapple.'
since i'm down to my last two requests (i know it's taking me forever, i'm sorry, i have medical shit going down) i'm just going to pop in here that my askbox is open and i take requests! now, the story:
The line comes to him with the same kind of flash of inspiration as a riff, or a brilliant lyric, several years into his employment at the Hideout. He still plays on Tuesdays, because he and the guys could never give up on the double Cs, but more or less every other night of the week he’s in there serving drinks and cleaning glasses. It’s not without resentment that Eddie acknowledges he’s met more girls with a cocktail shaker in his hand (because Fridays are ladies nights, so cocktails are on the menu) than with his guitar.
Of course, that was before Chrissy Cunningham started working with him. Okay, so she doesn’t exactly work with him but she’s in the goddamn bar, ain’t she? It doesn’t matter that she’s also, you know, on the bar. He wouldn’t let anyone actually touch her (and nor would the other girls, for that matter) but God what do they do to the cheerleaders in this town to make them so consistently hot? It’s clearly not the uniform (he’d been worried about that), so what? The natural rhythm she has, moving so that her skin lights up like she’s covered in scales, hipbones glowing beneath low riding shorts, and how (even covered in sweat with her hair dark and curling from it) beautifully alive she is with the music replacing the blood in her veins? He knows she feels that too. Music is a living thing that takes a person over; this he knows because he makes it. Eddie suspects Chrissy was born with it.
Anyway, the line he comes up with smacks him clear between the eyes - a chord progression, a bridge appearing from nowhere - just as the last stragglers are being shooed out of the door and Chrissy is drying her hair perched on a table. It’s beyond fucking genius, he just knows it. He’s about to pick her up with the smoothest shit that’ll ever leave his mouth and he’s extra fucking cocky about swaggering up to her with a towel over his shoulder and his arms crossed over his chest. He’s always grateful that his work clothes are flattering but tonight he’s seriously considering thanking a God he doesn’t really believe in for his luck. She looks up at him quizzically, then smiles a smile so big that actually he thinks his smoothness might have a little pulp in it after all. Shit. Fuck. It’s too late, he’s already opening his mouth, and what falls out of it is;
“If you were a fruit, you’d be a fine-apple.” What that fuck was that, Munson, you enormous fucking clowncar of a man? Smooth his fucking foot oh God he’s going to run his own head over with his van. The fuck is he talking about? What is this nonsense?
Why can’t Chrissy be as easy to talk to as the bimbos that come in here with their bachelorette parties?
“Wow.” But she’s laughing! That’s a good sign! It’s not even polite laughter - it’s a hideous little giggle that he immediately wants to find again, grin immediate on his mouth, watching the gaps between her teeth. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”
“Normally I’m much better than this.”
“You realise that makes you sound like a womanising jerk, right?” Chrissy crosses one long bare leg over the other and brushes the rhinestones hanging against her collarbone over her shoulder, raises her eyebrows and puckers her mouth at him. Sweet baby Jesus. That’s not true, not really, not from his perspective but if this is a game and this is how she wants the rules to be then he can do that. He sits at the table and folds his arms on the top.
“Maybe you should make an honest man of me, Cunningham. What time do you get off?”
“Same time as you, obviously.”
“I have some kush back at my trailer, if you felt like joining me.” The smile on her face grows, and her eyes flick from his own to his mouth, and it doesn’t matter that the pick up line ended up being the most embarrassing thing he could ever say because she leans down over him and slots her fingers along the bone of his jaw. Now he knows how all the heroines feel when the hero finally catches up with them. It’s a very strange place to be. Worth it, though. Oh God, so worth it, because she parts her lips against his and her tongue is coated in sugar and cinnamon from shots of cherry sours and Big Red bubblegum. When she pulls back, that tongue lingers for a second between his teeth and with a shiver he starts to laugh. He can’t help it. “It’s pineapple. The kush.”
“Wow. I can’t believe I’m going home with you and you’re this much of an idiot.”
“Chrissy, what can I say? I’m a talented guy.”
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borisdl · 2 years ago
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Short story part 6
The Barbecue
The morning of the barbecue I got up early to my uncle get everything ready. When we were done I sat down in clean diaper to play Xbox. While I was playing I farted a few times then came that feeling.
I had to poop. Bad.
I held it as long as could. Then I had to let some pressure off. One large firm turd slid out then I stopped. It was big, felt like a potato between my butt cheeks.
Due to the firmness, like hard clay, it barely smelled at all.
All of a sudden my uncle was standing in the doorway wearing a little pair of red gym shorts that did little to hide his dry diaper. He said, “you all ready champ?”
I guess I hesitated a little too long because he said, “heyyy buddy, there’s nothing to be nervous about. Everyone that’s coming today is on our team, even your straight uncle Tommy will be in a diaper.”
I smiled and said I be down in a minute.
I wanted my erection to go away before the guests arrived. I went in the bathroom to make the poop wasn’t visible from the back. It was fine but just in case I put on pair of baggy basketball shorts and went downstairs.
Soon my uncle Tommy arrived with his twin sons Danny and Mike. They looked super cute with their blond curly hair. They were both wearing big jean shorts so it was kind of hard to tell if they were diapered or not.
Tommy on the other hand was wearing nylon running shorts that left little to the imagination. He also had a bit of bear belly that made his t-shirt ride up a little and you could plainly see the top of his white diaper showing.
He was carrying a case of beer.
As we were saying hello, ranger Kevin showed up. Out of uniform and carry a small duffle bag. I saw him whisper something to my uncle. “Top of the stairs to the right is my room, feel free to use the changing table, my uncle said.
Then a car pulled up with four handsome guys in their late twenties or early thirties. Two were my uncle joey’s work friends Gary and Frank. The other two, my uncle introduced as David and Brick.
Brick was really hot, I shook his had shyly. Increasingly aware of my poopy diaper situation and hoping no one would notice.
My uncle Tommy had already fired up the grill and was drinking beer while my cousins played frisbee in the yard. I walked over to the grill and sat at the picnic table. As I sat down I felt the poop press up against my balls and got excited again.
Uncle Tommy was a big beer drinker but I’d never seen him drunk. He was just a big bear of a guy. I asked him how aunt Linda was doing, he said she was working today. Linda was a nurse.
As he stood there at the grill drinking, I drank my Coca Cola at the picnic table and made small talk trying not to stare. It seemed like every time he turned around the front of wis diaper was wetter and more swollen. It was even starting to sag out of the leg openings.
All of a sudden he said, “It’s Brick, right?”
Blushing I turned around to see him walking towards us. His gray sweatpants cut offs did little to hide his obviously wet diaper. The bulge slid side to side as walked toward us grinning.
I was tongue tied. I’d never seen anyone so handsome in my whole life. He had perfect all-American good looks. “What’s cooking’ guys?” He said.
I mumbled something.
Fortunately uncle Tommy, who was never at loss for words said, “Joey tells me you drive a truck.”
“That’s right,” said Brick. I’m in town for a few days.
Then my uncle Joey yelled to him from across the yard and he dashed off.
Uncle Tommy said laughing, be sure to ask your uncle why they call him brick. But I was distracted. I realized that I’d wet my diaper and from the looks of my uncle’s sagging shorts, he had too.
I was contemplating sneaking upstairs for a quick change when I noticed Tommy spread his legs and bent his knees a little. He was obviously trying to push out a stubborn log. As he leaned into it and strained, I heard it crackle and slide out making a large bulge in the back of his shorts.
Turning around to face me he said smiling like he was proud of himself, “that feels better.”
I couldn’t believe I just watched my straight uncle Tommy shit and pee in his diaper right in front of me. Seeing my surprised look he said, “don’t worry kid, that’s what diapers are made for.”
I could feel the precum leaking out of my hard cock like a sieve. I didn’t dare stand up. I looked around the yard for Brick but I couldn’t see him or my uncle Joey so I went to look for them.
To be continued…
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funky-demon2 · 2 years ago
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Since I see a lot of CBS headcanons, I decided '"Yk what? I'm gonna make myself some piss cakehole/cakehole piss headcanons because they need some love (I mean love I mean the 4 people that like these characters sitting in the back row) THIS IS SUPER LONG BTW BECAUSE THESE 2 BRAIN ROT ME EVERYDAY!!!!
Piss cakehole
•Despite being a absolutely menace to society murder, he’s very anti social. Like very anti going out with other freak friends (if he has any) or parties. Occasionally he’ll go to a friends place but that’s it. Kill. Sleep.Live.
•he actually Shockingly has a job, it’s Dairy Queen. He works night shifts because no one there wants be to around him but he doesn’t as long as someone doesn’t make him upset.
•He has curly hair you can’t fight me on it and he puts it in a curly man bun. (Bonus for salt and pepper hair)
•him and Cakehole are so identical, sometimes when their in good moods switch their outfits and pretend to be each other to pull pranks.
•Him and cakehole are actually the second oldest sniper freaks since being twins (around late 30’s. He’s mad at cakehole because he doesn’t age as much as him)
•He actually does care for cakehole and thinks as him as him as “his little brother” (their twins Ik but cakehole acts younger) but he finds annoying him around and often irritates him too the point he just wants to yank him. Cakehole is very aware and is on house arrest for that.
•he’s a stoner gay. Like hippie Artist gay. I’m talking 70’s belle bottoms and arched back. A feminine posing man. I’m talking cross dressing will wood. “I wanna be the f*cked up girl” From Ride the cyclone type gender. He/they type magic happening. He is gender.
•Hes also got LITTLE FRECKLES and a buck teeth? (Tooth?) like me because he’s my bgg
Source: I said so.
Cakehole piss
•Unlike his counter part, he’s very social and actually really funny around other freaks. He just needs to warm up or not being a murdering mood (he’s also kind of a loud person and has a higher pitched voice)
•He’s 89% percent high most of the time and smells like the strongest weed ever. Other percent is him being clueless.
•He’s on the spectrum. I say that as In like “he’s so me fr” kind of spectrum. He info dumps to demo samedi ALL The time but he doesn’t care. He likes blue things and things that sparkle. Or legos. Legos make him stim like me fr
Source on the spectrum: Me and all the other autistic freak fortress fans. He’s one of us now.
•He sees the undead stoner scouts as his older brothers and Demo Samedi as his father figure. (Idk because he’s a creation to him) and sometimes calls him “Master Samedi” instead of Demo Samedi in a sense of being being his creator.
•(this is actually canon) He doesn’t like water AT ALL. Refuses to go unless he needs to shower. Otherwise it would take him a whole team just to throw him in.
•He has dyed short curly hair and like multiple piercings like his ear and mouth. He also tends to wear baggy clothing and pajamas actually despite his normal uniform.
•Him and Piss are both Latinos/natives 🫶 (mixed parents fight me all you want). Piss‘s parents don’t call him by his “name” and call him instead “pequeña mariposa” (little butterfly in Spanish sorry If it’s not accurate, I can only speak little Lakota and more English ) they very much welcomed Cakehole into the family and treat him like a son
That’s all I have and also I’m making a short story on these 2 about most of these headcanons. If you don’t like these just remember that these are headcanons so don’t be rude about it. Ok stay groovy you guys 🫶💗
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kaiser1ns · 3 months ago
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#. LOVE ME AS YOU TEAR ME APART
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featuring 𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗶𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗶 𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗸𝗮 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿
angst + fluff + slight suggestive. being friends with takiishi chika, was equal to being on a super dangerous rollercoaster ride, well friends is a word you choose to use despite him not fitting into that category knowing that you are not friends and you will never be.
wc :: 13k. written without any new information about takiishi’s past. SHORT HAIRED CHIKA. original characters added for the sake of the story(not self insters). it's all a figment of my imagination. enjoy reading while listening.
taglist :: @maruflix @heartkaji @y2kuromi @stunie @haiaus @17020
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Always be careful of men because you can get hurt if you play with fire for too long. Your mother's words had been ringing in your head every single second since you were born and you couldn't blame her even if you wanted to. Because she was always right about absolutely everything and everyone, as much as you didn't want to listen to her, thinking she didn't understand what it was like to be a teenager with raging emotions and a whole life ahead. Is love medicine or poison? Not even your mom knows the answer to that and you regret not listening to her, you regret calling her stupid and whatnot when you were the fool all along.
But that didn't stop you from seeing him, the boy who was his own hero and villain. His name was coming out of your mouth so sweetly when you asked him to play on the playground, but he pelted you with sand and you cried out loud. Why is a four-year-old so ill-mannered? Where are his parents? Everyone else was wondering this as your mother took you in her arms and started soothing you by gently stroking your hair. “It's okay darling, mommy is here…” 
Her voice is always so sweet like honey, but her look directed at the little red-headed boy was so fierce and cruel. He did not react in any way — like a doll, just a body without a drop of soul. It was normal for kids to mess with others but it was not normal the way he behaved like some monster, it spoke enough for his upbringing. When your mother decided to raise her voice, he looked up at you with those golden eyes like the sun and smiled ever so slightly and imperceptibly, and your little childish brain under the influence of the strong emotion of sadness thought he was mocking you. 
“You shouldn't bully children like that! Didn't your mother and father teach yo — ?” the little boy just turned his back and walked away not caring what your mother had to say, because who does she think she is to tell him what is right or wrong? She is no one to him like he is to hers. “Hey, boy, come right back here!” but he neither turned nor returned and your mom just looked at you and kissed your forehead, sighing heavily. “When you grow up, be careful who you fall in love with, I don't want you to be with boys like him.” you were too young to understand her words, but this was the first time Takiishi Chika made you cry.
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“Can you believe that some boy just threw sand at our little girl?” Making dinner also meant time to share problems within the family. And your mother is still angry with the behavior of the little boy while cutting the carrots not so calmly that your dad had to take the knife away from her. “He's a little kid, most guys tease the girls they like.” If you could go back in time you would have told your father that it wasn't true, to some extent it is, but in this case, you were bullied by some stranger, not liked.
The memory of that day in the playground lingered in your mind, even as years went by and you began first grade with all the excitement and nerves that came with a new school year. Your parents had been busy preparing everything for you: new uniforms, new shoes, and the most important thing of all, a sweet obento packed with love.
Your first day of elementary school was filled with introductions and new faces. The classroom buzzed with the sounds of children's chatter and laughter. You found yourself making friends easily, joining in games during recess, and sharing stories about dolls over lunch. The obento your mother made was a hit among your new friends, who admired the neat arrangement of rice, vegetables, and little sausages shaped like octopuses. 
As you sit at the lunch table with your classmates, enjoying your meal and the happy company, when suddenly you get a feeling that someone is watching you. Glancing up, you saw him — the same boy from the playground three years ago. He was sitting at the other table just a short distance away, staring at you with those same unsettling golden eyes. He looked slightly older, but there was no mistaking him with that short red hair.
For a moment, you froze, the memories of that day flashing back. The sand in your eyes, the sound of your mother's soothing voice, and his cold, emotionless stare. He looked away just as you made eye contact, his expression unreadable and that mocking smile was nowhere to be found.
One of your girl friends, noticing your sudden quietness, nudged you gently. “Y/N-chan, are you okay? Is that your boyfriend?”
You forced a smile and shook your head. “N-no! He’s just... someone I knew from before. He threw sand in my face when I was three!”
“He’s older, you know,” one of them said, nudging you with a playful smirk. “A whole year older. That makes him extra cool.” Another added voice in the choir, “And a bad boy! I heard he’s always getting into trouble. Isn’t that exciting, Y/N-chan?”
You felt your cheeks flush, embarrassment and frustration coloring your face. “No way. I would never be with someone like him!” Your friends exchanged glances, giggling. “You know what they say, right?” one of them teased. “If a boy likes you, he’ll tease you!”
You squint your eyes, being skeptical not wanting to give the idea any merit. Yeah, they can tease you, but not in a way that can make you go blind. “Don't be like my dad, Ami.” you retorted, recalling your dad’s words that echoed your friends' sentiments. Your mom always told you that teasing wasn't equal to affection, especially in such a harsh manner.
As the laughter continued, you watched him get up from the table, expecting him to come over or do something disruptive. But to your surprise, he just walked past you, not even glancing your way.
“See, you’re just like a princess waiting for her prince to save her from the poisoned apple with a kiss,” another friend teased, making everyone laugh again. “Maybe he’s just shy,” another one suggested with a smiling face, “Or maybe he’s planning something really special.”
If there was sand in this special thing you rather stay home and watch scary movies that make you unable to sleep. You didn't want to have anything to do with him, you were even starting to forget him, but apparently, life wanted you to remember the incident at the playground for the rest of your life. 
When the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch, you and your friends headed back to class. It was P.E. time, and you were all excited to play outside. The sun was shining brightly, and the playground was bustling with activity. You and your friends decided to pretend you were mermaids, splashing around an imaginary ocean, while others were fairies fluttering about.
As you laughed and played, you noticed the second graders also had P.E. at the same time. They were on the other side of the field, playing various games. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him, all alone, away from the group, kicking a football ball around. 
You tried to ignore him, focusing on your game. But then, without warning, you felt a sharp pain in the back of your head. You crumpled to the ground, clutching your head and crying out in pain. Your friends gathered around you, their faces a mix of concern and confusion. Through the blur of tears, you saw the football ball that he had been playing with, now lying a few feet away from you. The teacher rushed over to check on you, while the second graders' teacher called out sternly, "Takiishi, to the principal's office!"
You looked up, still crying, and saw him walking away, a big red dot retreating into the distance. Tears streamed down your tender face as you held your head in your hands.
As the teachers helped you to your feet and checked for any serious injury, your friends whispered among themselves, some still giggling nervously. "He did it on purpose," one of them said. "Or it was just an accident," another suggested, but this wasn't Snow White or Sleeping Beauty waiting for their prince when they fell to be awakened by a kiss. It was real bullying but the other girls thought it was something romantic straight out of a fairy tale or a movie. 
You didn't want to hear his name or see him anymore. But your parents taught you not to judge people, trying to push away the idea that he might have hurt you on accidnet knowing he did it on purpose. And speaking of parents, surely they will be angry, well at least your mom will be pissed knowing what this boy has done before and your dad will take it as an accident. You wished he was like the other boys, or maybe to behave like a real prince. At six years old you asked yourself the question: What did I do wrong?
The teachers decided it was best for you to sit out the rest of P.E. in the shade, and your friends stayed close, trying to cheer you up. “It’s okay, Y/N-chan!” Ami said hooking her arms with yours “My big sister cries all the time because of the boy she likes!”. Despite their efforts, the incident left another core memory in your childish brain — Takiishi Chika made you cry for a second time.
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For your ninth birthday, you got the toy you saw on commercials every day. Yes, you may be a little too old for such things, but you're never too young to have fun. And that's why you and your friends agreed that tomorrow in class everyone should bring their dolls so that you can play. 
It was supposed to be fun, you were supposed to run in the classroom, not in a circle trying to get your doll from a group of boys who were neither your age nor a year older, it seemed that they were at least twelve. Your heart races as you sprint down the hall, tears blurring your vision. Your precious doll, a cherished birthday gift, is clutched in the rough hands of boys who tower over you, their laughter echoing like cruel music in your ears. "Please, give it back! I won't tell the teacher, I promise!" you plead, voice trembling.
The boys laugh louder, one of them tossing your doll down the hall. You flinch, expecting to hear the sickening thud of your doll hitting the ground, but instead, you hear rapid footsteps. In an instant, the boys are on the ground, sprawled out in various states of shock and pain.
You freeze, fear tightening your chest. What if you're next? What if you never see another Winx transformation or find out what happens in One Piece? Shivering, you try to move but your body refuses to obey.
The figure before you is unmistakable. The red and yellow hues, the aura of danger—it's him. He stares at you, blinking a few times before that same mocking smile from six years ago spreads across his face. His gaze, cold and intense, feels like it's piercing through you. He doesn't speak, doesn't move—just stares. The silence stretches, heavy and uncomfortable. You wonder what he's thinking, why he's acting this way, but no answers come.  
Before you can react, another voice pierces the tension. "Hey, don't cry now, here is your doll!" It's another boy, holding your now broken doll. You recognize him, he is with the redhead all the time, but his name eludes you. He hands it gently, and you accept it, despite its broken state. It's still yours.
"Takiishi, is that your girlfriend?" the blue-eyed boy asked but Takiishi ignored him. He steps over the fallen bodies, giving you one last look with those warm eyes that showed coldness, unwavering, as if searching for something within you.
"Hey, wait up for me~ It was nice meeting you!" the same boy shouts, running after the delinquent. You stand there, hugging your doll, still covered in goosebumps. Even though the fear was overpowering, you felt relieved at the same time.
For the first time, Takiishi Chika made you smile. It was a small, tentative smile, but it was there. The boy who once haunted your nightmares has given you a reason not to buy Dreamcatchers.
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Being thirteen meant you were growing up, entering your teenage years, and you had to be cool, even if you had a strong obsession with that one band and several dozen movies and TV shows. You kept it cool, but when you were with your friends you were giggling like the middle school girls, in fact you are in middle school. For the past four years, you had a strange relationship with Takiishi Chika, the boy who had once been the monster in your fairy tale. After the doll incident, things changed. No one dared to cause you any harm or say anything to your address, knowing you had something going on with and although your friends jokingly call him your boyfriend, you know better. He is not and never will be your Prince Charming. Yet, you've grown used to his presence, tolerating him as best as you can.
Today was special, you felt like it was going to be. You had borrowed your mother's makeup, hoping she wouldn't notice. The thrill of trying something new made your heart race as you carefully applied pink lip gloss and mascara. It was simple, but the compliments from your friends made you feel like you had discovered a hidden superpower, even thinking that your favorite idol would ask you to be his girlfriend. You wore your makeup all day, and the compliments and flattery did not stop even after your school club activities ended, you decided to visit your favorite spot, the rooftop, with some leftover snacks.
The rooftop was your hiding place where you could escape and dream. The open sky seemed to stretch forever, and you loved the feeling of the breeze playing with your hair. Here, you could be yourself, indulging in daydreams about your favorite group and the countless movies and TV shows you adored.
As you stood admiring the view, just staring at the horizon, lost in thought. That was until you heard a familiar voice. Turning your head slightly you saw the source of the voice that belonged to Endo Yamato, and Takiishi Chika had climbed up and was watching from above. You tensed slightly, hoping they wouldn't notice you, but luck wasn't on your side.
"Hey, Takiishi, your girlfriend is here!" Endo's voice rang out, making you sigh. Not again with the boyfriend-girlfriend thing. Why does everyone have to call you that? He more or less tried to kill you, and he did it twice either with sand or a football ball.
"I am not his girlfriend, Endo," you said, annoyance clear in your voice. His teasing smile widened as he replied, "Then why are you wearing makeup? The whole school talked about how cute Takiishi's girlfriend is."
That left you confused. Other students talked about you being pretty? Being Takiishi Chika's pretty girlfriend? That couldn't be true, as he always talked nonsense, and expecting an answer from the red-haired boy was like expecting a lion to eat plants - it would never happen.
"You are so weird. No one said anything like that," you retorted, crossing your arms, and glaring at Endo, who still had that teasing smile plastered on his face. Before you could say anything more, Takiishi jumped down from a slightly higher place, landing between you and Endo.
"See, he is coming to greet you. He never leaves this spot—" Endo's words were cut off as Takiishi swung at him. Endo dodged the punch, grinning as he realized it was his cue to leave.
Now it was just you and Takiishi Chika. When you are with him, your heart burns and you don't know why. As always, he looked at you with that soulless look, his eyes still radiating emptiness, even though all his expression was something, it was nothing to you. You tried to find the right words. "Do you have always to do that?" you finally asked, referring to his sudden appearance and equally sudden aggression. His only response was a slight shrug as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
"Why do you always show up out of nowhere?" you pressed on. "And why does everyone think we're dating?"
Takiishi's eyes flickered for a moment, a hint of something passing through them, but it was gone as quickly as it came. "Does it matter?" he said flatly, his voice devoid of emotion. You couldn't stand the silence, the lack of answers, the emptiness that seemed to consume every interaction with him. Each time you tried to break through his cold exterior, you felt yourself growing more frustrated, more desperate for some sign of humanity. Today, though, was different, you have reached your limit.
"Why don't you care?" Your voice wavered your anger and hurt mingling in your words. "For the past ten years, you've done nothing but humiliate me, throwing things my way, harshly shoving me out of your way. Why do you behave like some monster?" A hiccup escaped your lips, and you could feel the tears welling up, the dam finally breaking once again.
Takiishi just stared at you, his eyes as empty as ever. His lack of reaction only fueled your rage. "I tried my best to be good, to be a human and a friend to you. But you haven't changed." The words tumbled out of your mouth, unfiltered and raw. You didn't know what had possessed you to admit what you felt to someone who seemed incapable of feeling anything.
Was it because of last week when he tripped you on the stairs, and you had to lie to your mom about falling during a volleyball game? Or when he almost punched you just because you told him he had to go to class?
You tried to find the right words, to make him understand, to make him care. "Why?" you finally asked, your voice trembling. "Why do you show up out of nowhere and act like I'm some sort of target?"
Chika harshly grabbed your wrist, he was holding it very tight, and could have broken your arm at any second, as you winced at the sudden pain. "Let me go!" you demanded, trying to wrench your hand free. But he didn't let go. Instead, he pulled you closer, his breath warm against your face. And then, without warning, he kissed you on the lips. Your mind went blank. Not knowing how to react or what to think. The kiss was rough and forceful, lacking any tenderness or affection. It felt more like a punishment than a gesture of what others could call love. When he finally pulled away, you were left gasping for breath, your heart pounding in your chest like it was going to burst out at any moment.
You stumbled back, your wrist still aching from his grip. "What is wrong with you?" you shouted, your voice cracking with a mix of anger and confusion. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand as if trying to erase the memory of his kiss.
He just stood there, watching you with that same inscrutable expression. "You can't just do that to people," you continued, your voice trembling as you were breathing heavily. "You can't just… do whatever you want."
But his eyes never wavered, and his expression never changed. It was as if he hadn't heard a word you said, as if your pain and unknown emotions deep inside your heart hidden away, meant nothing to him. And in that moment, you realized that maybe they didn't.
You took a step back, needing to put some distance between yourself and him. "Stay away from me, I hate you." you said, your voice steadier now. Hate was a strong word and it wasn't just said out of nowhere, but he deserved it. "Monster."
That special moment for every single girl who was or was about to fall in love was taken away from you, your first kiss stolen by someone like him. You knew you should hate him, despise him for what he had done. But a part of you, a small, irrational part, still wanted to understand him, to reach out to the person hidden behind the locked doors of his soul. But as you turned to leave, you couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't the end, that he wasn't done with you yet. Takiishi Chika made you cry for a third time. And that thought was more terrifying than anything else.
Words came out of his mouth after you were no longer here, but only he heard them, almost as a whisper to himself. "You are pretty." They were meant to be an aside, a secret confession cloaked in madness, but now they felt like a ghost, haunting the empty space where you used to be.
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The sweet sixteen — from caterpillar to a beautiful butterfly in the endless garden called life. You grew, mentally and physically, more mature than you were a few years ago in middle school. And now look at you, first year in high school, new place and with new people, it was so nostalgic when you thought about your first day of school. 
The laughter, the smiles... and the tears. Despite everything that had happened a whole decade ago, the past is past — forgive and forget. There was no room in your head to think about it anymore, not when your boyfriend was waiting for you. Was your mother showing him baby pictures of you again? This woman loves to embarrass you, but it can't be helped, you are her only daughter.
"Ah, here she is three years old, she loved playing in this sandbox until some spoiled brat threw sand at her." you overhear her say. She still holds a grudge against him. His name has become a taboo subject, and she’d freak out if she found out he kissed you — that’s why she doesn’t know. In fact, no one does. "Mom, you should stop showing Kirihito my baby photos every time he is here," you say as your boyfriend chuckles, and your mom gets up and goes to the kitchen.
"Come and get your lunch," she calls, but before you leave the house, she tells you to be careful with Kirihito Yuu. It's your first boyfriend, and not every first try is going to be good or as expected, she wanted to protect you from bad news.
"Be careful, darling. Don't play with fire for too long or you will get burned." She doesn't understand what it's like to be a teenager with raging emotions and a whole life ahead. Your mother should stop being so judgy. She doesn't know Kirihito like you do.
"You are ridiculous, Mom," you roll your eyes as you put the bento in your bag. This conversation has been going on for almost 5 months since they found out you had a boyfriend and apparently they won't stop hinting at it.
"Just don't come back crying when he breaks your heart."
You don't say anything, your scoff is enough. Everyone likes him; why can't she? Even your dad is on her side with this. But you pay them no mind like you started doing when you entered puberty. You know everything; your parents know nothing.
Arriving at your school's gate, he holds both of your hands. "I'll see you later?" you ask, feeling his body warmth. The thing is you're going to an all-girls high school, and your boyfriend attends Furin High School. Its reputation isn't great, and your parents don't like him because they see him as one of those vulgar hooligans.
But no one could beat Takiishi Chika in terms of being the most horrible person you've ever met. He had a reputation for being extremely violent. He didn't care about anything and you knew it best by being his play toy. Even in his first year of junior school, he beat someone supposedly stronger than him, and he caused fear wherever he walked. 
Wait... Did you just think about him again?
"Are you okay, love?" your boyfriend asks, his voice pulling you back to the present. You nod your head, trying to shake off the unsettling memories. "Just being nervous is all." You smile at Kirihito, unlike someone else, he's never bullied you or been cold. Instead, he's always been your safe haven. You're not ready to say those three words yet, but you know your feelings for him run deep.
“You got this. Call me if you need anything, all right?” he said as you nodded your head, blushing as he went on his way to Furin High. It always felt like the beginning of a different world, one that you were both a part of and completely separate from. As he walked through the school gates, he was always on time for classes, or "meetings," as they liked to call them.
A whistle made its way to his ears as he saw his team leader and bowed his head. "Unusual for you to be late," the leader said, voice teasing. "Did you rob a bank or something? You look a little bit too happy."
Kirihito looked up, his piercing red eyes meeting his upper's blue ones. The leader's smirk grew wider, sensing something out of the ordinary. "I was just walking my girlfriend to her school," Kirihito said nonchalantly, though a slight tinge of pride colored his usually stoic tone.
The main reason why Furin was like it was, a place where chaos and destruction ruled was because of Endo Yamato, he was pretty well known in and outside most schools. "Oh! Girlfriend, you say? Is she cute?" curiosity piqued, as he leaned in slightly, eager for more details about this unexpected aspect of Kirihito's life.
"I guess she is," he replied, his voice flat and devoid of enthusiasm. 
"You don't sound like you love her," the leader remarked, raising an eyebrow at Kirihito's indifference "That's because I don't,"  face dull and his voice detached from emotion. His eyes, however, held a fleeting sadness, hinting at deeper complexities within him. Endo watched him for a moment longer, intrigued by the contradiction of Kirihito's actions and his apparent lack of feelings. "Well, best of luck breaking up with her."
But his curiosity didn't stop there, it was after a few hours when Endo's eyes followed Kirihito as he moved through the bustling schoolyard, a catlike grace to his steps that belied the darkness within him. He trailed behind, his presence unnoticed by the rest of the students who were preoccupied with their own dramas and distractions.
It wasn't long before he saw Kirihito meet up with a girl who broke into a smile as she approached him, her eyes lighting up at the sight of her boyfriend. A very familiar face. Hold on… Is that you? Kirihito's demeanor shifted slightly, a faint, almost imperceptible softness in his otherwise cold exterior. He reached out and took your hand, guiding you away from the crowd of students and towards a quieter part of the campus.
It was really you. L/N Y/N.
Endo Yamato hit the jackpot, he couldn't believe it. After three years he finally saw you again. He snapped a photo of the two of you with his phone, the click of the camera shutter masked by the noise of the school around him. As he reviewed the image, a slow smile spread across his face. You had grown even prettier since he last saw you before you transferred to another middle school, your features more refined, your presence more captivating. It was no wonder Takiishi was infatuated with you.
He lingered in the shadows, watching as the both of you turned to leave in the direction of the city center. “On a date, huh?” prying eyes remained fixed on you, noting the way you stood for a moment, watching Kirihito retreat before holding your hand.
He knew exactly where to find you now, how you looked, and who you were with. Takiishi would be very interested in this information because he didn't bother to like anything else besides violence. The thought of delivering such news to him filled Endo with such happiness.
As you walked hand in hand with Kirihito, the city around you seemed to fade into the background. You were lost in the moment, the warmth of his hand in yours grounding you, making you feel safe and cherished. You had longed for something like this—for love, a simple date just the two of you, enjoying each other's company without any worries.
You both decided to stop by your favorite café, the soft murmur of conversations and the gentle clinking of cups created a cozy atmosphere. As you settled into a corner booth, you couldn't help but notice Kirihito's face clouded with a hint of sadness.
"Baby, what's wrong? Did a fight break out again?" you asked, your voice filled with concern and anxiety.
Kirihito glanced up, his eyes meeting yours. "Don't worry, just a rough start to the day. Nothing that your smile can't fix," he replied, a small smile tugging at his lips.
You blushed at his comment, warmth spreading through you. Kirihito's words had a way of making you feel special, even when he was hiding his own troubles. Meanwhile, he couldn't shake the thought of how annoying and clingy you were. But despite that, he couldn't deny that you were pretty — the only thing he liked about you.
Meanwhile, Endo's mind was racing with plans. He knew Takiishi would want to know about your relationship with Kirihito. He couldn't wait to see the chaos that would unfold. Slipping away from the busy street, making his way through the narrow alleyways his sharp eyes scanning every corner. The scent of damp asphalt mixed with the faint metallic tang of blood. He found a tall dark silhouette against the dim alleyway lights, standing over several unconscious bodies. Takiishi’s fists were clenched, his breath coming in heavy, angry bursts.
"Takiishi," Endo called out, his voice steady despite the chaotic scene. Chika turned, his golden eyes blazing with a fire that seemed to burn through the shadows. "You fought these guys a week ago. Give them a break."
Endo stepped closer, carefully avoiding the bodies sprawled on the ground. "I was about to tell you something," he said, a smirk playing on his lips. "But I realized you might need one more day."
Takiishi's anger could have been seen, an almost physical force radiating from him. "One more day for what?" he demanded, his voice a low, dangerous rumble.
"To enjoy," Endo replied, his tone teasing as ever. "Before everything changes." He knew well enough that telling Takiishi about you would ignite a firestorm; his temper was like a blazing inferno, consuming everything in its path when provoked.
Takiishi's eyes narrowed, suspicion flickering across his face. "What are you planning?"
Endo shrugged "You'll find out soon enough, don’t wanna spoil the birthday surprise."
Takiishi stared at him, the fire in his eyes dimming slightly as he processed Endo's words, but the redhead paid him no mind because he always talked like that. He left the scene, probably in search of something else to entertain him, as the other followed him like a loyal dog.
As they walk around the city, the usual noise of traffic and chatter blends into a monotonous hum. The streets are busy, and the neon lights cast a colorful glow on the pavement. Takiishi barely listens to Endo's stories about the latest drama in Furin, his mind wandering.
Then, out of nowhere, you appear. Standing alone at the bus stop, your presence strikes Takiishi like a bolt of lightning. He doesn’t know how he spotted you in the crowd, and he doesn’t care. All he knows is that his chest tightens and his brain goes numb. He doesn't care about you. He won't question why you left, won't let himself feel anything. But why is his body moving towards you?
Endo's voice calls out to him, urging him to stop. "Takiishi, wait!" His friend's hand grabs his arm, trying to pull him back. Without thinking, Takiishi spins around and punches Endo hard in the face. The crack of bone against bone is a well-known melody by now.
"Don't get in my way," Takiishi snarls, his voice a low growl. It's not just a warning—it's an order.
But when he looks back to the bus stop, you're gone. The bus pulls away, carrying you out of his reach. The moment passes, and he’s left staring at the taillights disappearing into the distance.
Takiishi turns back to Endo, who is clutching his jaw and staring at him in shock. The fire in his eyes dims slightly as he processes what he’s done, but he doesn’t apologize, he never does. Endo mutters something under his breath, probably a curse, expecting something like this to happen.
Chika walks alone now, and the reality of what just happened sinks in. The city buzzes around him, indifferent to his mess. He feels the sting of regret but pushes it down. There’s no room for that now. Not when he wasn't done with you, not when he needed you.
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It was hard work, even when you put in extra hours after school. With one of your coworkers out sick, you had to juggle the cash register and sorting products in the warehouse simultaneously. The bell over the door jingled, and your remaining coworker nudged you, urging you to check on the new arrival.
"Hello, sorry for making you wait. What can I do for y—?" Your sentence trailed off in shock as you looked up and saw the customer. "Endo?" Standing in front of the register, he appeared taller and more fit than you remembered, but his expression was unchanged, though you noticed a few bloodstains on his face.
"Long time no see, cutie~," he greeted you with a teasing tone.
You forced a smile, masking your panic. "What are you doing here?" It was a stupid question, you knew, but his sudden appearance and choice of a nickname threw you off. 
"What? I can't buy myself a drink now?" he pouted playfully as he placed two energy drinks on the counter. "You live on the other side of town, where they certainly have the same drinks."
You scanned the items, and he paid with more than necessary. "Keep the change." He took the drinks but didn't leave. "What?" you asked, feeling uneasy.
"I came here to talk to you. As they say, the customer is always right, and you should attend to his needs."
You sighed, glancing at the clock. It was nearly closing time, and as much as you wanted to say no, you reluctantly agreed. Sitting outside, he opened one drink and handed you the other, claiming it was his treat. You murmured a thanks, sipping it quietly. Despite the silence, it wasn't awkward. Questions swirled in your mind: why was he here? Had he been in a fight?
"Who did you fight this time?" you asked, curiosity getting the better of you, knowing how he was getting targeted.
"Your boyfriend," he replied calmly. Kirihito had landed a punch on Endo? That couldn't be true. Kirihito wasn't the type to get into fights, especially not with someone like Endo. Besides, you and Kirihito kept things private, away from the Furin guys. "Takiishi's been doing well, though it's been rough after you broke up with him," he continued, poking at an old wound.
Not this again. Takiishi Chika wasn't your boyfriend. You never broke up with him; you ended whatever twisted relationship you had after he treated you like nothing. But explaining that to Endo would be pointless. He thrived on these messy entanglements, relishing the drama.
"Endo, I'm not in the mood for this," you said, hoping to steer the conversation away from painful memories, but deep down you wanted to ask him so many things
"Come on, Y/N, don't be like that. I'm just here to catch up," he said, his tone mockingly innocent. "It's been too long. You can't tell me you haven't missed me a little."
You sighed again, knowing this conversation wasn't going to end quickly. "What do you want from me?" He leaned back, looking up at the sky and then at you. "I want to know how you've been. And maybe... just maybe, I want to see if you wanted to hang out someday, just like the old times."
You rolled your eyes. "No, thank you. I have a boyfriend.” and before you could say more, he chuckled. Oh, how much he loves knowing things other people didn’t. Your boyfriend was a complete jerk, a weakling, someone who was a waste of air on the Furin grounds. But he will make you see it yourself, the morning is wiser than yesterday, and he will look forward to it.
The night air was cool and refreshing the street lights casting a faint glow on Endo's face. He sipped his drink, a smirk on his lips as if he were savoring every moment. You could tell he was playing games like he always did. He was more like a mastermind, instead of a player.
Endo’s gaze lingered on you, and he finally said, “You know, Y/N, it's strange. I always thought we had a good thing going. Even if it was a bit chaotic.”
You frowned, not sure where he was headed. It was chaotic for him, but it was traumatic for you. “We had a lot of things going on, but I wouldn’t call it good.” He shrugged, unaffected by your words. “Fair enough. I suppose I’m just nostalgic. Those days had a certain charm.”
It was clear he wanted to probe deeper, to stir up emotions you’d rather leave in the past. But you decided to change the subject. “Where are you hitting at?.”
He tilted his head, considering your question with a thoughtful look. “I missed you,” he said finally, though his tone was light, almost playful. “Or maybe I just wanted to see how you’re doing, to remind you that not everything is as perfect as it seems.”
You didn’t want to dwell on his riddles. Instead, you took a deep breath and tried to focus on the present. “Look, it’s late, and I have a busy day tomorrow. It’s probably best if we wrap this up.”
Endo’s expression softened, and he gave you a small, almost genuine smile. “Alright, alright. I’ll let you a VIP pass.” He stood up, stretching a bit as if preparing to leave. “But before I go, I want you to remember something.”
You looked up at him, waiting. “What is it?”
He took a moment, studying you with an intensity that made you shiver slightly. “Life has a way of throwing surprises at us, and sometimes, it’s worth keeping an open mind. Don’t be too quick to dismiss what’s right in front of you.”
Before you could respond, he took a step back, his expression shifting to one of casual indifference. “Goodnight, Y/N. Sweet dreams~”
With that, he turned and walked away, disappearing into the night. You watched him go, very confused, wondering what kind of mess you had gotten yourself into without knowing it. The encounter had left you with more questions than answers, and as you headed back inside, you couldn’t shake the feeling that Endo’s words would linger in your mind long after he was gone. Just like you were thinking about another man when you were already in a relationship, sometimes you can't get rid of the past if it just keeps coming back to you.
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You groaned softly as you woke up from the weird dream, feeling the remnants of confusion like a hungover. Endo, of all people, was in your dream, and yet, there had been something unsettlingly real about it. Blinking in the morning light, your eyes fell on the pitcher of the drink he’d given you yesterday. It was still there as if mocking the boundaries between your dreams and reality. 
Rubbing your eyes, you reached for your phone to check the date. June 21st stared back at you from the screen, bringing with it the gentle reminder of an important milestone. A message from Kirihito popped up, as you read his sweet, heartfelt message, a smile tugged at the corners of your lips. He had planned a special dinner for the two of you tonight, a gesture that spoke volumes about how much he cared.
Happy seven months to us, my love! It's hard to believe it's already been seven months since we started this incredible journey together. Every day with you has been a blessing, filled with laughter, love, and countless memories that I cherish deeply, every moment spent with you is a moment I hold dear. You bring so much joy and light into my life, and I’m grateful for your love, kindness, and the beautiful soul that you are. You’ve made me a better person, and I can’t wait to see where our journey takes us next. Thank you for being my partner, my best friend, and my everything. I love you more than words can express. I love you <3
But as the warmth of his words enveloped you, a nagging thought wormed its way into your mind. There was something else you were supposed to remember today, something that felt like it was just out of reach. But as hard as you tried to remember, it slipped through your fingers like sand. You were looking forward to the evening with your boyfriend; it would be special, just like every moment you spent together.
As you tried to push the nagging thought aside, the memory of last night crept back in. The way Endo just appeared out of nowhere and started saying things to you that somehow made sense. You shook your head, determined to focus on the present. Kirihito’s message was a bright spot in your day, a reminder of the love and connection you shared. You set your phone aside, mentally preparing yourself for the evening ahead, and resolved to enjoy every moment of it.
After all, the present was where your heart truly lay. The past, with its fleeting dreams and unresolved questions, could wait until you were ready to confront it. 
You got up, getting ready for school when you heard a knock on your bedroom door. "Come in!" you said as the door opened and your mother entered, holding a decorated pink box.
"Special delivery for you," she announced as she got closer to you and you took the box from her. It was elegantly wrapped, with a delicate ribbon tied perfectly around it. You recognized the handwriting on the attached card immediately: it was from Kirihito. Your heart skipped a beat as you carefully opened the box. Inside, nestled in soft tissue paper, was a stunning golden bracelet with the letter K elegantly engraved. It shimmered in the morning light, and a smile spread across your face. 
Your mother's presence, however, quickly brought you back to reality. She stood there, a complicated expression on her face, of concern and disapproval. Sensing her impending lecture, you felt a wave of frustration rise within you.
"If you are going to say something bad about him, leave. I don't want to deal with your antics today," you snapped, the harshness of your tone surprising even yourself. You slipped the bracelet onto your wrist, admiring how it looked against your skin.
Your mother's eyes narrowed, and she took a step back, hurt flickering across her face. "You will regret talking like that to me," she said quietly, but with a firmness that made you pause. "But it's your choice if love is medicine or poison."
With that, she turned and walked out of your room, leaving you standing there, the bracelet suddenly feeling heavier than it did a moment ago.
You leave for school, the golden accessory gleaming on your wrist as a reminder of Kirihito's gift. The morning air is crisp, and you try to shake off the uneasy feeling your mother's words left behind. Your mind drifts as you walk, lost in thoughts of your boyfriend and the complicated web of emotions surrounding you.
But then you see it. That unmistakable flash of red hair in the distance, the distinctive black gakuran jacket that seems to draw all light into its inky depths, and those golden eyes that watch you from afar. Everything around you becomes silent and extinguished, as if the world itself has faded away, leaving only a singular path that leads to him.
Your breath hitches in your throat, and your steps falter as you stare. His hair, still in the same short style, catches the morning light just right. Face was still so gentle yet rough, and his eyes were still full of nothingness, but this time it seemed like the golden and warm color didn't cotranslate with his soul when his pupils dilated. He's grown, no longer the boy you remember, but the change is striking. He used to be shorter than you, but now he stands tall, almost imposing, a figure out of a memory that feels both distant and hauntingly close.
Time seems to stretch as you both stand there, locked in each other's gaze. The world around you ceases to exist; there's only him and the unspoken history that ties you together. He begins to move, each step bringing him closer, his eyes never leaving yours.
Panic surged through you. Without thinking, you turned on your heel and started running. The sound of your footsteps echoed in your ears, but the only thing you could focus on was the sensation of his gaze following you. Your surroundings became a blur as you dashed down the street, your heart pounding louder with each step.
You didn't dare look back, afraid of what you might see—or feel—if you did. The world felt like it was closing in, the path ahead narrowing as you sprinted towards the school gates, seeking refuge in the familiar bustle of your classmates and the routines of the day.
Finally, you slowed down, breathless and shaken. You glanced back over your shoulder, but there was no sign of him. Yet the feeling of his eyes on you lingered, a reminder that some things from the past have a way of catching up, no matter how fast you run.
Behind you, you sense him still coming, a relentless presence that refuses to fade. Your breath comes in ragged gasps as you push yourself harder, desperate to put distance between you and the figure from your past. The bracelet on your wrist feels like a burning brand, a reminder of the tangled emotions you can't escape.
You finally entered the school, the sight of familiar faces and the usual morning chaos offering a semblance of comfort. But the pounding of your heart and the image of his golden eyes wouldn't leave your mind. You made a beeline for the restrooms, seeking a moment of solitude to collect yourself.
Inside the quiet, sterile space, you approached the sink and turned on the tap. Cold water gushed out, and you cupped your hands to catch it, splashing your face repeatedly. The shock of the cold helped, but only slightly. As you lifted your head and looked into the mirror, your reflection stared back at you, water droplets mingling with the tears that had escaped your eyes.
Why do you feel this way? The question hung in the air, as you watched the tears and water flow down your face, leaving trails of confusion and heartache in their wake. You had everything you were supposed to want: a boyfriend who cared for you, a life that was steady and predictable. So why were you crying now?
Why does your heart beat so much for him but not for your boyfriend? The thought gnawed at you, your chest tightening with the realization. Kirihito was kind, caring, and had always been there for you. But the sight of Takiishi Chika had stirred something deep within you, something that had lain dormant for years.
Why do you love Takiishi Chika? You whispered the question to your reflection, the words feeling both foreign and familiar. He had always been a part of your life, he might have been an asshole to you but seeing him again had brought back a flood of memories, emotions you thought you had buried long ago. Takiishi Chika made you cry for the fourth time. Instead of being scared, you are more attracted to him, now.
The realization hit you like a wave, and you clutched the edge of the sink for support. The pain of the present and the echoes of the past merged into a confusing whirlwind inside you. How could you explain these feelings, even to yourself? The tears kept flowing, each drop a testament to the storm in your heart. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but the questions persisted, their answers just didn’t exist. 
As you stood there, lost in the labyrinth of your emotions, the school bell rang, jolting you back to reality. You quickly wiped your face, trying to compose yourself. The day had to go on, but the image of Chika, and the emotions he had stirred, lingered at the edges of your mind, refusing to be ignored.
The rest of the school day passed slow. You attended classes, answered questions when asked, and even smiled at your friends, but everything felt distant and detached. Your mind was elsewhere, lost in the tangled web of your emotions. Every time you glanced at your wrist, the bracelet Kirihito gave you shimmered back, reminding you of his presence, his love, and how different your feelings were now.
You barely tasted your lunch, pushing the food around your tray while your thoughts drifted back to Chika. The memories of him, the way he had looked at you that morning, kept replaying in your mind. It was a struggle to focus on anyone else.
By the time the final bell rang, signaling the end of the school day, you felt exhausted. The prospect of going home should have been a relief, but you knew it meant facing the evening ahead—a dinner with Kirihito that you now dreaded.
As you walked home, the air felt heavy, and each step took more effort than the last. When you reached your house, the usual comfort it provided felt hollow. You opened the door, expecting to be greeted by your mom and dad, but the house was eerily quiet. 
You spotted a note on the living room table and picked it up, recognizing your mother's handwriting. "We'll be back at 10pm. If anything happens, call us. We love you. Mom and Dad."
The silence in the house amplified the conflict inside you. You were completely alone, with nothing but your thoughts and the looming dinner with Kirihito to prepare for. The emptiness of the house mirrored the emptiness you felt creeping into your heart.
You made your way to your room, dropping your bag by the door. The thought of seeing Kirihito, of pretending everything was fine, felt overwhelming. You stood in front of the mirror, looking at your reflection again. The tears from the morning had dried, but the confusion and heartache remained etched on your face.
Taking a deep breath, you began to get ready for the night. You chose an outfit carefully, one that you knew Kirihito liked, but the act felt mechanical, devoid of the excitement you used to feel. As you brushed your hair and applied a light touch of makeup, you couldn't shake the thought that this dinner might be the last.
Your mind kept drifting back to Chika, to the way he had looked at you, the unspoken connection that had reignited the feelings you had tried so hard to forget. The realization that your heart was drifting further away from Kirihito and towards Chika was painful, but undeniable.
You finished getting ready and sat on your bed, staring at your reflection one last time. Tonight, you would see Kirihito, and you hoped that somehow, you would find the strength to face the truth—both for his sake and your own.
As the time for dinner drew closer, you knew you had to leave soon. The house was still empty, your parents' absence a reminder that you were on your own in this. Taking one last deep breath, you stood up and headed towards the door, hoping that whatever happened tonight would bring you the clarity you desperately needed.
You took one last glance in the mirror, ensuring that your makeup was intact and your expression was as composed as possible. It was going to be rough to break up on an anniversary, but you knew it was better to end things now than to continue living a lie. You smoothed down your bright short red dress, feeling the soft fabric beneath your fingertips. The color was bold, perhaps too bold for how you felt inside, but you wanted to put on a brave front for Kirihito.
Deciding against heels, you slipped into a pair of comfortable sneakers and a black purse to match them. They were elegant enough to match your dress but practical, much like the decision you were about to make. The bracelet on your wrist glittered in the light, and you took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what was to come.
Stepping outside, you saw Kirihito waiting for you by the gate. His face lit up with a smile as soon as he saw you. His enthusiasm and warmth were always so genuine, and it pained you to know that you were about to hurt him.
"Wow," he said, eyes widening as you approached. "You look stunning."
"Thank you," you replied, forcing a smile. His compliment meant a lot, but the weight of what you had to do made it hard to fully appreciate it. Kirihito's gaze fell on the bracelet on your wrist, and his smile grew even wider. "I'm glad you liked the bracelet. It looks beautiful on you."
You glanced at the bracelet and then back at him, the words you needed to say heavy on your tongue. "It's lovely, Kirihito. Thank you."
He reached out, taking your hand in his. "Ready to go?"
You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. "Yes, let's go."
The walk to the restaurant was filled with casual conversation, Kirihito chatting animatedly about his day and plans for the future. You tried your best to engage, nodding and responding where appropriate, but your mind was elsewhere, already rehearsing the words you needed to say.
For two hours, you endured, trying to distract yourself by focusing on the person in front of you, rather than the one who had invaded your thoughts. Every time you glanced at Kirihito, you felt a pang of guilt. He deserved to know the truth, even if it would hurt him. You owed him that much.
After dinner, you walked hand in hand through the dimly lit streets, the tension between you growing with each step. You took a deep breath, knowing the moment had come.
"Kirihito, I think—" you started, but he cut you off.
"Please forgive me," he said urgently, his voice trembling. Before you could react, he dragged you into a dark alley nearby, his grip on your hand tightening.
"Kirihito, what are you—" Your words were cut off as he pinned you against the wall, his lips crashing into yours. His kisses trailed down your neck and collarbone, each touch making your heart race, but not in the way it once did.
"W-what—?" you moaned, confusion and discomfort mingling in your voice. This wasn't right. This wasn't what you had planned, and it certainly wasn't how you wanted things to go.
He pulled back slightly, his eyes dark and intense. "I just... I need to feel close to you," he whispered, his breath hot against your skin.
Your body responded instinctively, but your mind screamed in protest. You had talked about this before, about waiting until you felt ready, whether it was with him or someone else. This wasn't how you had imagined it. This wasn't what you wanted.
"Kirihito, stop," you said firmly, trying to push him away. "This isn't right."
Instead of listening, he laughed—a harsh, cruel sound that bore no resemblance to his usual sweet laughter. "Listen here," he said, his voice empty of any affection. "You are just a stupid doll with a beautiful body. Too bad you can’t do anything."
The words hit you like a physical blow. I wanted to remind you that not everything is as perfect as it seems. Panic surged through you as he grabbed your hands and kissed you forcefully, his touch making your skin crawl. You felt sick, and the realization that your mother had been right about him crashed over you with like a sudden and rapid tsunami.
Desperation fueled your actions as you struggled to break free. You kicked him between the legs, and he staggered back, a pained groan escaping his lips. But before you could escape, he pulled something from his pocket—a small, sharp object.
In a flash, he cut your wrist, and you cried out in pain. The searing sting made you gasp, but there was no time to react further. Adrenaline surged through your veins as you realized the immediate danger you were in. Summoning every ounce of strength, you tore away from him, kicking and hitting him, and ran away. The alley seemed to stretch endlessly, but you didn’t stop. The pain in your arm was sharp, but the fear of being caught was sharper.
You burst out of the dark place and into the street, your heart pounding in your chest. You glanced back only briefly to see Kirihito's shadowed figure retreating into the darkness. The world felt like it was spinning around you, and you ran as fast as you could, seeking safety out of the darkness.
Humiliated and betrayed. The sweet, loving facade Kirihito had presented was nothing more than a cruel act. All this time, he had been playing you, pretending to care just to satisfy his own desires. His words replayed in your mind: "You are just a stupid doll with a beautiful body." The disgust and hurt were overwhelming. You had been fooled into believing in a love that turned out to be nothing more than manipulation and deceit.
The pain in your wrist, while not life-threatening, was a constant, stinging reminder of how wrong things had gone. The cut hurt, but the emotional wounds were deeper, more painful. The agony of being used and belittled was a brutal blow, especially on what was supposed to be your anniversary—a day meant for celebration, now marred by violence and betrayal.
With your makeup smudged and your vision blurred by tears, you walked alone through the dark streets, feeling like a mess. The cold night air felt harsh against your skin, but the real chill was in the emptiness you felt inside. You stumbled, your heart shattered and your spirit crushed. You had no idea where you were going or what to do next.
In your daze, you collided with something—or rather, someone. You staggered back, mumbling an apology, "I-I am sorry." Your gaze was fixed on the ground, unable to meet the eyes of whoever you had bumped into.
"Who did this to you?" The voice was gentle but held a tone of underlying anger that made you shiver. You looked up slowly and were stunned to see the one man you thought about all day, Takiishi Chika standing before you. The sight of him was almost a mirage in your confused state.
His eyes were filled with nothing but pure rage and as he took in your disheveled appearance and the bloody wound on your wrist, his expression darkened. You have never seen him like that. "Y/N," he said, taking your hand in his, the movement was a bit harsh. "Who did this to you?"
You tried to speak, but your throat was tight with emotion.  All the memories you had with him appeared in your head like a movie. As for him, he didn't care if you were at school or not, he didn't care when you left him three years ago, he didn't care when you ignored him, he didn't care after seeing you in tears because of another person.
Only he was allowed to make you cry. 
“Come here, you bitch.” Kirihito's voice was cold and determined as he turned towards the direction you had come from. Without waiting for an answer, Chika’s anger surged, storming off in the direction of Kirihito. You watched as he took off his jacket and draped it over your shoulders, a small gesture of comfort amid the chaos.
But as Takiishi moved past you, another figure emerged. Endo, with a smirk that sent a shiver down your spine, placed a hand on your arm. “I knew he would like his birthday present, though I didn’t expect him to find you in such a state,” Endo said with a twisted grin. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep you safe.”
The realization hit you like a punch to the gut—today was Takiishi’s birthday. You had forgotten in the midst of everything, and now everything felt like a cruel twist of fate. As Endo’s hand covered your eyes, you felt a surge of fear. “It’s better not to watch,” he said softly.
Confusion and fear mixed with the anger you felt. “Why is this happening? Kirihito, then you, Takiishi—What is going on?” you stuttered, your voice trembling.
Your question was swallowed by the sounds of a struggle as Takiishi and Kirihito faced off. The alleyway seemed to close in around you as Chika and Kirihito came into view. Kirihito, his demeanor now vicious and cruel, snarled at Chika.
Takiishi moved fast, faster than any beast or monster, his anger driving him. He charged at Kirihito, his movements a blur of strength and precision. Kirihito tried to block the assault, but Takiishi’s punches were relentless. Each blow landed with a sickening thud, and Kirihito struggled to keep up, his defenses crumbling under the onslaught. Chika’s fists connected with Kirihito’s jaw, sending him reeling against the wall. The force of the impact left Kirihito gasping for breath.
“Don't play with what's mine.” Takiishi growled, his voice dripping with fury. He grabbed Kirihito by the collar and slammed him against the wall, his eyes burning with a mixture of rage and determination. That boy was a monster and he was becoming one because of you.
Kirihito’s attempts to fight back were feeble compared to Takiishi’s relentless assault. He tried to push him away, but Chika’s strength was overwhelming. With a final, powerful punch, Takiishi sent Kirihito sprawling to the ground. The force of the blow left Kirihito sprawled on the pavement, barely conscious.
Breathing heavily, Takiishi stood over him, his chest heaving with the exertion of the fight. Kirihito, defeated and battered, looked up with a mixture of fear and pain.
“Touch her one more time,” Takiishi said coldly, his voice low and dangerous. ”And you are dead.”
As Kirihito tried to rise, Takiishi moved in, making it clear that he was done with him. The fight was over, and Kirihito’s attempts to get up were weak and futile. He slumped against the wall, his strength gone, as Takiishi stepped back.
Endo, still standing beside you, looked at the scene with a satisfied smirk. He removed his hand from your eyes, and you saw Takiishi standing tall, victorious, and Kirihito defeated on the ground.
Chika’s gaze softened as he turned back to you, he reached out to touch your face gently, wiping away the remnants of your tears and smudged makeup. You didn’t seem fazed by the blood on his hands or the stains on his clothes. What mattered to him was the look of concern in his eyes this time they were not empty and cold, but warm and full of the sight of you.
He leaned in, his thumb gently caressing your cheek leaving a tint of your already red blush, lips brushing against yours with a tenderness that contrasted sharply with the violence. The kiss was a desperate, passionate connection—a promise of solace amidst the chaos.
His lips moved against yours, each touch a balm to the emotional wounds that had been inflicted. There was an overwhelming sense of reassurance in his kiss, a silent vow that he would be there for you no matter what. It was both a declaration and a comfort, a way of saying everything he couldn’t express in words, everything he was being regretful for.
Endo, unable to resist making a final comment, let out a dry chuckle. “I’m still here, you know,” he said, his voice laced with a hint of mockery. “Not that it matters now.”
As the kiss deepened, you felt the world slipping further away, your senses dimming. Takiishi’s touch, and his kiss, were the last things you felt before the darkness enveloped you completely. The last thing you felt was the comforting solidity of Takiishi's arms as he caught you and held you close. The stressful night had taken its toll, but as you passed out in his arms, you knew that for now, you were safe.
Takiishi cradled your limp body in his arms, lifting you effortlessly into a bridal carry. His grip was gentle, as the weight of your unconscious form seemed to worry him, fueling his resolve to get you to safety. His gaze was locked on your face, a look of protectiveness in his eyes.
As he began to walk, the night air was cool against his skin, but his focus was solely on you. Each step he took was deliberate, each movement careful to ensure your comfort. Endo, trailing behind with a satisfied smirk, observed the scene with a sense. His role in the evening's events had gone according to plan, and he was content with the unfolding of the night. He walked leisurely, his hands in his pockets, his eyes occasionally glancing towards the scene before him.
Takiishi’s thoughts were focused on you, your well-being, and getting you home safely. Endo, on the other hand, seemed to view the situation in another way, as if the events were merely a dramatic play unfolding before him.
It was past midnight when they arrived at your home. The darkness of the night was only pierced by the dim, flickering light from a lamp inside. Takiishi, still holding you carefully in his arms, as Endo knocked on the door and rang the bell, the sound echoing in the stillness of the night. The minutes ticked by slowly as they waited, the flickering lamp casting shadows across the front yard.
From inside, there was a murmured exchange, followed by the sound of shuffling footsteps. The door creaked open, revealing a disheveled figure. Your mother’s tired eyes widened in shock as she took in the sight of you, unconscious and cradled in Takiishi’s arms.
"Who the hell—" her voice cut off as she saw your limp form. Her gaze darted between you, Takiishi, and Endo, recognition dawning as she remembered the redhead from past encounters. "Y/N?" Her voice broke with worry and anger as she took in the blood on your wrist and the disheveled state you were in.
"What have you done to my daughter?" she demanded, her voice rising with both fear and rage. The sight of you in such a vulnerable state was more than she could bear.
Before she could say more, Endo stepped forward, his demeanor smooth,  “We’re sorry for the way we’re bringing your daughter in,” he said, his tone deliberately calm. “But I think we’d better take care of her first and then explain the situation.”
Your mother’s eyes flitted between Endo and Takiishi, the latter still holding you with unwavering care. Her maternal instincts and concern for your health won out over her anger. Though her expression remained tight, she nodded reluctantly. “Right,” she said, her voice trembling. “First, her health. Then we’ll talk.”
She opened the door wider, allowing them to step inside. As they entered, your mother instructed, her tone sharp but her eyes filled with a mix of desperation and worry. “You come with me,”  She directed Chika to follow her, clearly intending to discuss the situation in private.
Endo, with his characteristic smirk, raised an eyebrow. “And, you don’t touch anything or think about it,” he looked around the beautifully decorated living room said, his voice dripping with casual menace. “Yes, ma’am.”
Your mother’s eyes narrowed at Endo, but she didn’t have the luxury of confronting him at the moment. Her priority was to ensure your safety and to understand what had happened. She led Takiishi to a quieter part of the house, her steps brisk and purposeful.
As Takiishi followed, he glanced back once more at you, his face a mask of determined concern. The weight of the night’s events hung heavy, but a promise to take care of you. The confrontation with Kirihito had left its scars, but for now, the focus was on you.
Your mother’s eyes held a fierce determination as she led Takiishi through the dimly lit hallway. The sound of your breathing, shallow and uneven, filled the silence between them. She opened the bathroom door, the light from the ceiling casting a soft glow in the small room.
Without hesitation, she motioned for him to place you gently into the bathtub. The porcelain surface seemed stark and cold, but it was necessary for what needed to be done. As he carefully set you down, your mother began to unfasten the straps of your dress.
Takiishi stood by, his eyes never leaving you, he could see the pain and vulnerability you were exposed to, and it weighed heavily on him. His heart ached for you, and his mind was consumed with worry.
Seeing your mother struggling slightly, he stepped forward to assist. “Are you going to watch or help?” her words were not meant to be harsh but rather a nudge to refocus the task at hand.
Your mother, though tense, appreciated the help. Takiishi removed your shoes and helped her ease off your dress. As the garment fell away, leaving you in your underwear, your mother worked quickly to assess your wounds. Her hands were steady, though her eyes revealed the depth of her concern.
“Go to your friend downstairs,” she instructed. “I’ll call you when we need to carry her.” There was an unspoken agreement in her tone—a mutual understanding that your immediate care took precedence over everything else.
Takiishi nodded, his expression serious as he stepped back. He cast one last look at you, his heart heavy with the burden. The bathroom door closed behind him, leaving your mother to tend to you.
The silence in the bathroom was filled only with the soft sounds of water and the gentle rustling of fabric as your mother carefully cleaned your wounds. Each motion was precise, driven by her need to help you heal and to make sense of the situation. “I told you that you would get burned. But I am glad you are safe.” she saw the golden bracelet and removed it, you won't need it anymore, so she will sell it, it's gold after all.
Outside, Takiishi’s steps were swift but measured as he made his way back downstairs and saw Endo fast asleep on the couch. A short while later, your mother called him back to the bathroom. “We’re ready,” she said softly, as he stepped inside, she motioned to the sink. “Wash your hands first.”
Takiishi nodded, moving quickly to comply. The water ran cold at first, then warm as he scrubbed away the remnants of the foreign blood. With clean hands, he turned back to you, now dressed in a clean shirt and pants, looking so peaceful and divine despite the hell you went through.
Gently, he lifted you into his arms again, cradling you with a tenderness that was so unnatural for him. As he carried you through the hallway to your room, your mother followed closely, her eyes never leaving you. Maybe he's not so bad, she thought. She always remembered him and saw him as some bad kid, a big troublemaker, and no matter how much your mother kept you out of trouble, it always came to you. Takiishi Chika was a big problem, but your mother knew that he was your big love.
Once in your room, Takiishi laid you down on your bed his touch lingering on your face as he leaned in, his lips mere inches from yours. It was a kiss filled with all the emotions he couldn’t put into words—a kiss that, if your friends from first grade were here, would have made them giggle and say: I told you so, he was a prince!
He didn't know what was wrong with him or why he kept wanting to kiss you, he just knew that he could still taste your lipgloss when he kissed you for the first time. He was intoxicated. The only way he could get your attention was to be aggressive, that's what he was best at.
Just as his lips were about to touch yours, a gentle cough came from the doorway. “You, go shower,” your mother said softly. “I will let you and your friend sleep for tonight, the least I can do.”
Takiishi pulled back, reluctantly tearing himself away from you. He stood up and moved past your mother, who still commanded a certain presence that made him respect her, even if he’d never admit that she scared him when he was four. “I put my husband’s clothes out for you. And thank you,” she added, her voice sincere. If you wonder where your dad was, he was probably in a deep slumber, hard to wake up. But he will surely be more than grateful when he finds out what happened.
In the bathroom, Takiishi showered quickly, washing away the blood and sweat of the night. The warm water was soothing, providing a momentary escape from the weight of the past. Once clean, he dressed in the clothes your mother had left for him—simple, comfortable, and clean a contrast to the violence and tension he had just endured.
Returning to your room, he found it quiet and dimly lit. Your mother had left some food and water on a small table, a silent gesture of care. Takiishi approached the bed, his heart softening at the sight of you, as he already let you in it. He laid down next to you, careful not to disturb your rest. His fingers played gently with your hair, the soft strands a comforting distraction. You are pretty, inside and out.
He pulled you into his arms, holding you close. He didn't care that you were so close, and he probably didn't care that he loved you. Leaving you one last kiss on your lips, before falling asleep as he already fell for you thirteen years ago. You are mine. And he was yours.
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The next morning, you wake up feeling extremely tired, your body sore and aching. A sharp pain shot through your hand as you tried to move it, reminding you of the events of the previous night. Groggy and disoriented, you attempted to sit up but found yourself unable to move. Someone’s arms were wrapped around you, holding you securely in place.
Panic surged through you, and you instinctively opened your mouth to scream, but before any sound could escape, a hand gently but firmly covered your mouth.
“Shut up and sleep,” a familiar voice murmured in your ear. It was Takiishi Chika.
His voice, though commanding, had a hint of softness to it. The initial shock started to fade as you realized who it was. The memories of the previous night began to flood back—Kirihito’s betrayal, Takiishi’s rescue, and the tender care he had shown you. Your breathing steadied as you processed the situation. He was in your bed, under the same blanket, your bodies closer than ever,
“We didn’t do anything, right?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper as you gulped. The question hung in the air, filled with a mix of apprehension and hope.
Takiishi didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he rested his head gently against your shoulder, his warm breath brushing your skin. “No,” he finally said, his voice sleepy and hoarse. “We didn’t.”
Relief washed over you. It felt strange, like there was no weight pulling you back, free from the chains that were made of lies. You were ready to say those three words to the person who deserved them. “I love you, Chika,” you whispered. The way you said his name, instead of his surname or whatever nickname, felt intimate and personal. It made him feel strange. I love you. He was still learning, still getting used to you. To being soft, to feeling, to showing—to love. It was unfamiliar territory for him, but the sincerity in your voice and the trust you placed in him stirred something deep within.
As you closed your eyes, you felt his grip tighten briefly, a silent promise of protection and care, drifting back to sleep, Takiishi watched over you. He didn’t fully understand what he was feeling, but he knew that he wanted to be there for you, to protect you, to make sure you never felt that kind of pain again. And in that moment, as he held you close, he vowed to do just that. Despite his broken state. He’s still yours.
You got your answer, even if you play with fire and get burned, love is the medicine that will cure you of the poison. Takiishi Chika made you feel loved for the first time.
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jdgo51 · 1 year ago
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Cheering for Someone When They Get What You Want
Today's inspiration comes from:
The Hard Good
by Lisa Whittle
"I live in a home of athletes, raised in the school of hard work and dedication — literal blood, sweat, and tears. When your boys play football and you’re the mother who supports them, you learn early on to live with both the smells of their jerseys and the fears that require prayers for God to have them out there on the field.
I expected sports to teach my kids important things. What I didn’t expect is how much my children’s experience with them would also teach me.
My boys never asked my permission to fall in love with football, or I probably would have said no. But my joy had no choice but to get on board, watching my sons do what they loved. My middle son, Micah, started playing especially early, at the age of seven, for the local rec league at the nudge of the coach (a close family friend) and upon the lure of a fancy stitched uniform. He played receiver, and his best friend played quarterback. Every Saturday we loaded up the Suburban with coolers, donned T-shirts with “Whittle” across the back, and watched our boy play his guts out, often up against boys twice his size. When he scored his first touchdown, and then a second and a third in the same game, we knew his talent was going to take us for a fun ride.
Season after season, summer after summer of practice and off-season workouts, we lived through eleven years of football life. Getting up at six in the morning for workouts with the older boys, just to be near the sport, rec league to middle school to JV to varsity. I even had a summer stint as a volunteer coach’s assistant when Micah was about ten and between seasons. When he was in eighth grade, he moved to a school ranked nationally in football. He was on a team of able peers; they all soared in the sport. As early as ninth grade, conversations in the stands began circulating about who might get offers to play at the next level, though the boys were barely fourteen.
Junior year of high school arrived, and with it, for hopeful athletes, prime season for college offers. Despite the team winning a state championship and despite Micah’s hard work, the season was racked with personal disappointment. One by one, Micah’s best friends who had sweated on the field with him for years received offers from big schools to play college football. Micah received none.
I watched the whole thing, my heart breaking for him a little more every time. I watched him get bypassed, and I sensed the pain of being overlooked. But what I saw at the same time taught me an invaluable lesson: I saw Micah cheer for each of his friends even while his heart wanted what they got. I knew he hurt. As I had so many times through the years when he took the field, I prayed for him. But this time I prayed something different.
I prayed that in the quiet of his bedroom, alone with his thoughts, God would keep him from envy. That he would be comforted in his pain. That he would know God saw him, cared for him, and had a plan for him far beyond football. That even though this moment was hard, he would eventually discover, in some way, why it was good. I knew at least in one way it already was:
the invaluable lesson of cheering for someone who gets what you want shapes your character in ways always winning never can.
Through this, my son would become a better man.
That was the real prize worth getting.
The invaluable lesson of cheering for someone who gets what you want shapes your character in ways always winning never can.
Undoubtedly you have your own story that involves a moment when cheering for someone else didn’t come easy. When someone gets what we have worked for or desperately want for ourselves, it is almost unthinkable to celebrate their gain. Maybe you are thinking about what someone else has that you want right now. If not, it might not take you long to recall something. We aren’t typically short on desire.
The risk for any of us who watch others get the engagement ring we want… the work promotion… the attention online… the coveted position in life we feel we’ve worked equally hard for or (buckle up — here’s the truth) feel we deserve more, and then deny that those feelings exist, is that it builds bitterness, not character. So I don’t want us to deny that we want, as Jesus followers are prone to do, like “good Christians.” I want us to work through the very human feelings.
Sometimes we are a front-end reactor. We take someone else’s success hard right at first, but we pray, work through it, and wind up with a healthy perspective.
Other times we are a back-end reactor. We offer support immediately, and later comes a realization of a perceived injustice, and we wind up angry. This way of processing often happens when the root of bitterness sets in and the initial right attitude is derailed by negative thoughts that have festered over time. (Or at times the initial support wasn’t sincere.)
Sometimes we never accept someone else’s success or gain, never change our perspective to see any positive in it, and never let it change us for the good. Sadly, this is where a lot of us live, stewing for years over something someone else has that we never got. Something we may even still think we want that is clearly not meant for us.
The person who learns to cheer for someone else doesn’t have those mental restraints, which is why they become such a usable force for the Kingdom of God.
When for most of our life we tend to be so inwardly focused, it’s no wonder cheering for others becomes a notoriously hard task. In nearly every equation the thing we most need to shake off is ourselves. (This does not include being taken advantage of and boundary-less, which is not godly, has no merit, and stems from something completely different.) If this sounds foreign to your ears, it’s probably because you’ve gotten used to the opposite message of this world, which says that we are the most important, which is fantastic to hear, but not gospel. We actually aren’t on the list when in Matthew 22:36-39 God gives the top two Greatest Commandments: to love God (first) and love your neighbor (second), adding “as yourself” to give reinforcement to the depth because He well knows how much we love ourselves.
Before you misunderstand this to mean that I don’t believe we are important or don’t believe in self-love, know that anytime God asks us to love others, it is with the Sovereign understanding that on any level of its sacrifice, we will find our deepest fulfillment. This is a way to love ourselves."
Excerpted from The Hard Good: Showing Up for God to Work in You When You Want to Shut Down by Lisa Whittle, copyright Lisa Whittle.
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