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torturedtypewritersdept · 7 months ago

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the fire in his eyes - r.c.

↳PAIRING: rafe cameron x fem!reader

↳SUMMARY:jj maybank had done a lot of stupid shit in his life but threatening to kill you was at the top of the list.

↳ WARNINGS: mature themes, mentions of anxiety, gunshots, gun use, major character death (implied - doesn't happen), gun violence, violence, protective!rafe, etc.

↳A/N: this is a repost from my old blogs @illicitfixations, @lovelornanonymity. all of my works are being reposted to this one + the previous blog has been deactivated.

At the Boneyard, Kooks didn't have rich parents watching over their every move, and pogues got to party without the police shutting them down. They didn't have parents to bribe the law enforcement like the rich kids did, after all. It was a win-win situation. You and Sarah kept it a tight-lipped secret, but parties at the Boneyard had always been their favorites. As you climbed out of Sarah's black Volvo, you two shared a conspiratorial look, matching grins on your faces. Rafe put his arm around your waist, pulling you close to him and leaning down to kiss you on the cheek. You heard a whistle from the crowd, and resisted the urge to roll your eyes. You could feel the eyes of other partygoers on them as you all walked in, clinging to your every move. Topper grabbed a cooler of beers he’d brought with you guys, and cheers echoed from your onlookers.

"Rafe, mind if I borrow your girl?" Sarah's voice was syrupy-sweet, and Rafe shot her a glare, but relinquished his hold on you.

Without giving you a moment's notice, Sarah grabbed your hand eagerly, snatching you away.

When you next glanced at your boyfriend, he'd busied himself with Topper and the beers. Predictable.

"Look at this, Y/N.” Sarah said, out of breath as you two stopped running.

Above you towered a red buoy, the kind designed to ward off the big trawlers and cargo ships when they came a little too close to shore.

“You can see it all from up here.”

You heard footsteps, and glanced over her shoulder, seeing Topper advancing towards you two.

"Your bitch is here.” You teased, and Sarah glanced over her shoulder.

"Shut up."

"Sarah! Be careful!" Topper hurried over, worry plain in his voice, and you rolled your eyes.

"I'Il leave you to it.” You called out, and Sarah smiled down at you, waving her goodbye.

You crossed your arms around yourself, looking at the scene around you. There were people

everywhere, Pogues and Kooks in distinct groups,

miniature versions of the Cut and Figure Eight.

"Looking hot as always, princess.” A voice whistles from the side.

You turn your head, seeing JJ trailing his eyes up and down your figure. You roll your eyes, flipping him off with a fake sweet smile, then walking away.

You made your way to your friends - Rafe’s arms calling your name. You belonged in them like the wind in a hurricane, one just simply couldn’t be without the other.

The journey across the beach and into the arms of the boy you loved was long and grueling, your feet felt like lead as they drug against the cool of the sand. The promise of Rafe’s touch was enough to make you keep going as your eyes raked over his form at a distance.

He was laughing with his friends, a yellow shirt gripping his biceps and pink board shorts wrapped around his thighs. His feet were exposed against the sand and a baseball cap sat backwards in his head. You came up from behind him, wrapping your small arms around his middle, trailing your fingers up around his pectoral muscles.

“Can I buy you a drink, handsome?” You whispered into his shoulder, not tall enough to reach his ear. You felt his muscles relax against your touch.

“I’m pretty sure the booze is free, we’re at a kegger. Plus, I don’t think my girl would like that very much.” He replied with a smile, turning around to bring you into his chest. “Hey, pretty girl. Missed you.”

Suddenly, Rafe's grip on your waist tightens a bit and a scoff slips from his mouth. It's not long before you notice what forced the change in his

demeanor. Two Pogues, JJ and you couldn't quite remember the other boy’s name, but you recognized him as a friend of Kiara’s.

"Just walk, don't look at them.” You hear the unknown boy whisper to JJ and it almost brings a smile to your face.

"How do you walk past Kooks and not look at them in all their fucking glory?” The sarcasm seeped from JJ’s lips, purposely making his voice loud enough for you all to hear.

"Hey, princess. When you get bored of this polo wearing asshole..." his words directed toward you as his holds his hand up to his ear with the phone gesture, "call me," he mouths.

His friend immediately pulled JJ further in the opposite direction before Rafe could so much as

even think to put his hands on him.

"Don't.” You place your hand on Rafe's chest, as he noticeably gets angry. He just glances down at you in confusion. "His time will come.” You reassure your boyfriend, your smile almost as menacing as the one now on Rafe's face.

He simply nodded along to your words, letting his grip on your waist finally lighten up a bit.

You and Sarah were growing bored as your boys were talking about perfecting their swings for what felt like hours upon hours and you two were looking for any excuse to retreat back to the keg.

“Sarah and I are going to get another drink. You guys want anything?" You ask, backing away toward the keg already.

“Nah, I’m good.” Kelce replies, Topper and Rafe agreeing all too intrigued with their conversation about that God forsaken sport.

You just shake your head and the two of you start walking towards the keg. Your walk was pretty peaceful, but of course that couldn't last for long. You watched as JJ walked in your direction.

"Y/N L/N." Your full name rolled off his tongue,

albeit a little slurred.

"Hi?" Your voice was questioning, and you could only hope you got across your utter confusion as to what he was doing standing in front of you.

He raised his eyebrows at you, and held out his cup to you silently. Your eyes darted downwards and back up to him again, looking at the murky liquid dubiously. As far as you were concerned, he could've been poisoning you.

"No, thanks."

"Don't you trust me?"

You let the words hang. You knew he knew the answer to that question. JJ waved the cup in front of your face once again, jolting you back to the present.

"Lighten up, princess.”

You chuckled lowly, though the laugh had no real humour behind it. “Fuck off, Pogue.”

You met his eyes again, and the corner of his lip quirked up ever so slightly. He looked almost a little stunned.

"Where'd you learn to swear, princess? The country club?"

"Where'd you learn to swear? Jail?" You bit back, and JJ grinned.

"Juvie, dumbass.” He replied, eyebrows raised. "C'mon. One sip."

“I believe the lady said no, Maybank.” You heard your boyfriend’s merciless voice cut off the intense tension that you and JJ were now sharing.

"Rafe! Buddy! How are you?"

The taste of beer in the back of your throat turned rancid. This was not going to end well. The muscles in Rafe’s jaw were tensed, sharp lines against the contours of his skin.

"What, is it not fancy enough for you?" JJ kept being persistent.

"No. We were just leaving."

"Hey, you know what? I'll take it." Topper interrupts JJ, and you start to fear what might happen.

"Thank you, man. I appreciate it."

"That's nice, but I didn't ask you. If you said pretty please, maybe, but you didn't."

"Oh, pretty please."

"Yeah. Sarah? How about you?” JJ tried to give her the cup.

"Pretty please?"

"You can have it." JJ insists on giving Sarah the cup.

"She doesn't want it, you-" Topper just spills the drink into JJ's face.

JJ hits Topper, while John B and Sarah attempt to separate them.

"Dirty Pogues!" Topper screams and John B loses it and hits him.

"Hey, John B, don't make me drown you like your old man, all right?"

People around you scream "Fight! Fight! Fight!" like this is some kind of joke.

The guys continue, and it seems like there are only three sane people in the middle of this, trying to stop it: you, Sarah and Kiara.

Things are getting pretty violent. Topper is holding John B's head, and he's slowly drowning him. Everyone around us is either inciting it or screaming, trying to end it. That's too much for you to watch, so you hide inside Rafe's arms and he pulls you closer.

Out of nowhere, someone screams, "He's got a gun" and you turn to see JJ with a gun pointed at Top's head.

"JJ, stop! Put the gun down!" Sarah screams desperately.

"Did you say something, princess?" He holds his position.

"JJ, what the fuck? Do you know what you are doing? Calm down, please."

"Oh, does princess number two want to join the ‘save the asshole’ party?"

Your breath hitched in your throat as the cool metal met your temple – you had never been a fan of guns – but you wished that you knew how to use one or atleast how to defend yourself against someone with one as JJ Maybank bore the side of the pistol in his hand into your skull like his life depended on it. Your eyes met Rafe’s and you noted the panic that ran through them, though you knew no one else would and you thanked God for that, because if they had you were sure you would die on this beach, leaving Rafe to cradle what was left of your lifeless body. Everything felt like it was moving in slow motion and you could barely hear Rafe’s words or the words of the pogues as they stood by, begging JJ to put the gun down.

"You better get the gun away from her or I swear to God, your friends will be burying you tonight.” Rafe breathes, almost too calmly. “You know who has more power between us. I can make your life a living hell more than it is now.”

Everyone knows that's true, even JJ himself. Yet, he didn’t seem to care about that at the moment, all he cared about was getting even with Rafe Cameron, the kook king himself and that’s what he thought he was doing when he pulled the trigger sending a harsh air into the side of your temple. You dropped to the sand and Rafe’s heart stopped for a split second as he raced over to your form. He gripped your cheeks, looking over your face, begging you to say anything as he searched for any source of blood, any place that a bullet would have entered your body.

“Baby – Baby – talk to me, please!”

You were dazed, your mind reeling. You wondered if you had been shot, if this was it for you, if you were dying – is this what dying felt like? You couldn’t make your mouth form words and your ears rang. Rafe shook you once again, forcing you to look into his eyes.

“Sweet girl, what hurts? Are you hurt?!”

You could only shake your head no as he looked over you and once he received confirmation that you were okay, he ordered Kelce to watch over you as he made his way over to where JJ stood. JJ looked in Rafe’s direction, knowing he had fucked up, knowing he was about to take the beating of his life. Rafe stalked towards him, anger pulsating through every vein in his body in a way that it never had. Pogues had always pissed him off or been a nuisance to him, but this – this was life or death – this was you and he couldn’t stand by and let these fuckers think they could get away with that. JJ shrunk into himself, thinking about making a break for it and Topper must’ve noticed, because he got to him before Rafe did, jerking him up by the collar of his shirt and snickering.

“Listen, bud, accept your fate now – Rafe’s gonna kill you.”

He chuckled and JJ’s fear made itself known as he tried to squirm out of Topper’s grasp. And just as he did, ready to make a break for it and leave his friends to fend for themselves, Rafe stepped in front of him, stopping him in his tracks.

“And, uh – just where do you think you’re going?”

He growled.

“Listen man –”

JJ was cut off by Rafe’s forehead connecting with his nose, knocking him back abruptly.

“No, see –, listening after you pull a gun on my girl? That doesn’t work for me.”

His voice was sinister, yet cool and calm and ready – ready to kill his first pogue. Rafe shoved JJ back even further, his head connecting with the sand. Rafe’s only thought in that moment elicited a snicker from him as he thought about his tiny pogue brain shaking around in his head at the impact. He thought about it again as he ripped the gun from JJ’s grasp and knocked it against his nose, the crunch of his bones could be heard across the beach and Rafe let out a laugh.

“If you think that hurts, you’re not gonna survive what comes next.”

Topper snickered, bringing a beer to Rafe’s attention, handing it to him. Rafe’s demented and angry state gave him an idea and before he could even think he spit into the long-neck beer bottle, swishing the remaining liquid around and passing it back to Topper who spit in it as well and handed it back to Rafe.

“Maybank, you uh–, you thirsty? I got something for you.”

Rafe laughed menacingly, turning back to the crowd that had gathered around them on the beach before kneeling over JJ while Topper held down his shoulders against the sand and Rafe poured the tainted liquid down his throat. JJ kicked and attempted to scream, but his yells were muffled against the cool liquid as he fought against it.

“Don’t fight it, princess.”

Topper snickered, his grip on JJ’s shoulder’s tightening to prevent him from squirming away from Rafe.

“Stop! You’re gonna kill him!”

John B yelled, emerging from the crowd.

“Trust me, JB, I’m not even close to killing him yet and when I am it’ll be justified. He almost took my world away from me, killing him wouldn’t be enough.”

Rafe spoke through gritted teeth and threw the beer bottle to the side, stradling JJ and beginning to hit him over and over.

You sat on the sand, Kelce’s strong arm wrapped around your waist as you tucked your knees further into your chest and laid your head on top of them. Rafe came barreling toward you, stopping as he took in the tears that were running down your cheeks. Your eyes were closed and you chanted to yourself “Rafe’s coming soon” over and over in a hushed whisper. His heart broke and the sight and he was filled with regret for leaving you with Kelce of all people while you were in this state. He knelt in front of your face, tucking the hair behind your ears and it was like almost immediately, you knew the touch was his. Your eyes flew open, and at the sight of him you cried even harder – a mix of fear and anger washed over you; anger at JJ, fear of Rafe being shot the way you almost had been. You jumped into his arms, almost knocking him over, but he steadied as he wrapped his arms around you and situated you on his lap. You buried your head in his chest and he wrapped one arm under your knees and the other around the back of your hair, pooling it in his hands. You tucked your face as deep into his chest as you could and he placed a kiss on your temple.

“Hey, sweet girl. Talk to me, baby.”

“Scared – wanna g-go home.”

“Okay, mama. We’re going.”

He whispered against your hairline, pushing himself off the ground by his legs and shifting you in his broad arms before carrying you bridal-style to his truck.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe x reader #rafe outer banks #rafecore #rafe obx #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron prompt #rafe cameron obx #protective!rafe

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pyrrhiccomedy · 11 months ago

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I am genuinely so proud of my wife for becoming a crafts person over the last few years.

Like, I was always a crafts person. I was an arts and crafts kid. My parents sent me to classes or summer camps or after-school clubs pretty much continuously from when I was about 5 years old, and over the years I did metalsmithing, stained glass, polymer clay sculpting, loom weaving, oil painting, charcoal drawing, clothes-making & tailoring, carpentry, woodcarving, macrame, miniatures, beading, jewelry-making, basket weaving, leatherworking, paper-making, bookbinding, papier mache, decoupage, sand sculpting, and probably more that I'm forgetting. There was never a day in my life while I was growing up when my entire bedroom floor wasn't taken up by 2-5 different ongoing art projects. As an adult, it's given me the firm confidence that I can walk up to pretty much any crafting skill, and get the hang of it, and enjoy doing it.

My wife never had that. She wrote, but that was really her only artistic outlet. Art & craftsmanship were just not any of her business. She always expressed admiration for my gumption when it came to making things with my hands, usually with a "bigger idiots than me have done it" attitude, but she was certain she'd be bad at it if she tried it, and that she wouldn't have fun. As evidence, she would offer every time in her life when she had attempted to learn a craft, and didn't have fun, and all the Arts And Crafts kids picked it up a lot faster than her.

Which like - yeah! Learning how to do a new craft is a skill all on its own! Fine motor control is a skill developed over time! So is spatial reasoning, and materials intuition! She wasn't just 'trying to learn wreath-making,' or whatever, she was trying to learn how to learn how to make something with her hands AND wreath-making, at the same time, so of course it would take her longer than the kids who already had the first part, and of course it would be more frustrating for her. I knew she wasn't uniquely bad at crafts: she just didn't know how to approach picking them up, because she was never encouraged to learn.

And then the pandemic hit.

And while we were all trapped inside and going insane in new and exciting ways to all of us, she tentatively decided to pick up embroidery. She probably wouldn't stick with it, she explained: she'd probably be bad at it. It probably wouldn't be fun. But she thought embroidery was pretty, and literally what else did she have going on?

And then she did stick with it. For over a year. And she got pretty good at it! She embellished a baseball hat for her sister with cactuses and wildflowers from where they grew up which came out adorable. She made an embroidered portrait of one of our friends' cat that they still have displayed in their entryway. And she discovered - and remarked on it often, with mild surprise - that she was having fun. She'd say a lot of stuff like "this stitch was so frustrating at first, but now that I get it I really like doing it," or "I kept getting this tangled but I've figured it out now. I just needed to relax."

Then she took up pottery. We did that as a couple for about a year, too. Now she's a knitter.

And it's just been so great, to see her eyes light up when she sees a sweater she likes, and hear her say, "I could make that!" She's slowly let go of the perfectionism that I think holds a lot of people back from doing crafts: that dismay when you make a mistake which leads to discarding a whole project, or starting something over. More and more she's taking on the veteran crafter attitude of "oops lol, whatever I'll just keep going." She's picking things up faster. She's taking pleasure in learning incremental steps. She's started to see crafting as something that relaxes and engages her, instead of as something inherently frustrating. I've gotten to watch her learn to find joy in making something with her hands. I always knew she was creative and artistic and capable of learning how to do anything. It's been so much fun to watch her start to take that on as part of how she sees herself.

We have this running joke about how she will prematurely declare herself to be in an era. Like, she'll go swimming twice and announce that she's now in her "swimming era," and then never go swimming again. Or she'll make one smoothie, buy a bunch of fruit, and declare that we are now in a "smoothie era," and then a week later we have to throw out a bunch of fruit that's gone bad.

The other day (while she was knitting, and I was sitting on the couch next to her doing crochet), she went, "I feel like I've gotten - like, I'm a bit crafty these days, I think. Like, I've done a couple of different crafts, and gotten pretty good at them. I think this is now, kind of, you know...something that I can say that I do."

I supplied that I would even go so far as to say that she was in her "crafting era."

Her eyes widened. "It's an era?"

I pointed out that it was something she'd been doing pretty much continuously for the last three and a half years. That feels like the start of an era to me.

"Yes," she decided. "It's an era. This is my crafts era. I'm a crafts person now."

She's planning to make me a sweater with a duck on it for fall.

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chheolie · 8 months ago

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[⚾] where seokmin can't wait for his son to grow up and play baseball with him.

"papapapa." it was already the sixth or seventh time you heard your baby babbling that word, the small voice echoing in the room. it was late afternoon, and you were sitting on the couch, watching your child play with the toys scattered on the soft carpet. but something seemed to be missing. the baby's curious eyes wandered around the room, searching for something or someone. you knew perfectly well what—or rather, who—he was looking for. seokmin, your husband, loved to practice baseball on his days off, and that day, he was taking longer than usual to return home.

the baby began to get restless with the absence of his dad, making faces and emitting small sounds in an attempt to get attention. his big, curious eyes explored the environment while he babbled once again: "papapa." this time, there was a confused expression on his little face, as if he was trying to understand why dad wasn't there.

you watched as he crawled to the bedroom where seokmin usually told stories before bed, but upon arriving there, he found the space empty. a gentle ache filled your chest as you saw the little one so distressed, and you followed him into the room.

"my love, appa isn't here," you murmured, picking him up and feeling the tenderness of the moment. it was impressive how, even so small, he already showed so much affection and longing for his dad.

determined to cheer up your child, you went to the closet and carefully took out the tiny jersey that seokmin had kept with so much love. it was a dodgers shirt with the number 17 on the back, along with an mlb cap from new era, also from the dodgers. items that seokmin had bought excitedly while you were still pregnant, eager for the future.

with the baby in your arms, you dressed him in the jersey, which was still a bit big, and adjusted the cap, which was also too large for his little head. seeing him dressed like this, a miniature version of seokmin, you couldn't help but smile. the baby watched you curiously, a smile lighting up his face as if he understood what was about to happen.

"shall we go see appa?" you asked, knowing that while he might not understand all the words yet, "appa" was one he knew well. the answer came in the form of a joyful giggle.

you grabbed the diaper bag and walked leisurely to the field where seokmin usually trained. the air was fresh, and your child observed the colors and sounds along the way, his eyes shining with fascination.

upon arriving at the field, you spotted seokmin running around the bases, fully focused on the practice. his teammates were also busy, each in their position. still holding the baby, you stopped near the fence and watched seokmin for a moment. he seemed so at ease there, playing baseball, as if he were performing on stage, and you felt a wave of pride for him.

one of seokmin's friends noticed your presence and waved, catching his attention. "seokmin, look who's here!" he shouted, pointing in your direction.

seokmin stopped and turned immediately, a smile already forming before he even saw you. when he finally realized it was you and your child, his eyes sparkled with joy. he dropped the baseball glove on the ground and ran towards you, his heart racing with happiness. the baby laughed with excitement in your arms, recognizing the familiar figure quickly approaching.

"look at this outfit!" seokmin exclaimed when he got close, laughing as he took the baby in his arms. "you're dressed just like appa."

the baby held seokmin's face with his tiny hands, still laughing with joy at seeing his dad. seokmin lifted him in the air and brought him close, kissing his cheek with affection.

"sorry for showing up without warning," you said, smiling as you watched the scene, "but he kept calling for you all afternoon. i thought bringing him here would cheer him up."

"are you serious?" seokmin asked, surprised, a huge smile on his face. "he was calling for me?"

you nodded, caressing his face. seokmin leaned in and gave you a gentle kiss. "were you waiting for appa?" he asked the baby, who laughed at recognizing the word.

"i told you…" you laughed, amused.

seokmin turned to his friends, proudly showing off his son. "look who came to beat you all!" he said loudly, with pride.

"i can't wait for him to grow up and come play with me," he confessed to you, his gaze still fixed on the baby.

you laughed, crossing your arms and pretending to be worried. "oh? and who’s going to take care of me when you two are out on the field? am i going to be left alone at home?"

"it's not like that, love, i just…" he tried to explain, but you interrupted him with a gentle kiss, and he smiled, feeling his heart warm.

the two of you smiled, and you watched the man you loved hold your son with such care.

you and the little one sat on the small bleachers, now more relaxed, still fascinated by the environment and by the presence of his dad. you adjusted his cap and positioned him on your lap so he could see seokmin in action on the field.

seokmin focused on the game, but not before blowing kisses to his son, who laughed at the sight. you laughed along, charmed by the scene.

the game continued for a while longer until the baby finally began to get sleepy, perhaps lulled by the rhythm of the game or by the comfort of being close to his dad. when the game ended, seokmin waved at you, and you had the baby relaxed in your arms.

he ran towards you, still smiling, his face sweaty. gently, he took the baby, who was already fast asleep, and slung the diaper bag over his shoulder.

"he was exhausted from looking for you earlier," you said softly, as you watched seokmin adjust the baby in his arms. "but now that he's seen you, he's at peace."

seokmin smiled, looking at the baby sleeping so soundly. "thank you for bringing him here. i had no idea how much i missed you both while i was training."

you started walking back home, taking your time. seokmin held the bag in one hand and kept the baby secure against his chest with the other. you, in turn, carried seokmin's glove with the baseball inside.

"i'm not sure how i feel about having another baseball player in the house," you teased, tossing the ball in the air. "he seems to have taken a liking to being on the field."

seokmin chuckled softly, his eyes shining with happiness. "i admit, i can't wait to see him running around the field, with the same passion i have," he said, looking at you lovingly. "but we can fix that."

"how?" you asked, curious.

he stopped walking for a moment and, still holding the baby, pulled you closer, intertwining his fingers with yours. "we can have another one…"

you smiled, feeling the warmth of his hand in yours, and continued walking together along the quiet street. in the silence of the night, the sound of your footsteps mingled with the baby's soft snores. "i love you, seokmin," you said, squeezing his hand.

"i love you too, y/n. thank you for today."

#seventeen fanfic #seventeen imagines #seventeen x reader #svt #dokyeom scenarios #dokyeom fluff #dokyeom seventeen #dokyeom #dokyeom x y/n #dokyeom x you #dk x y/n #dk x reader #dk x you #svt dk #dk fluff

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mysteriesmuse · 8 months ago

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childhood trio izuku, katsuki, and y/n!! who are constantly dragged to each other things! Like, Katsuki and Izuku who both got signed up for T-ball and Pee-Wee Soccer. Katsuki who eventually got good at it and had baseball tournaments every other weekend and your parents are dragging both you and Izuku out to watch Katsuki. The sweetness of a sticky box of crackerjacks and peanuts shared as you spend dozen of weekends sitting together in the stands at his field games with the big pointer finger foam hand and corn dogs — and the everlasting hope of catching a ball. It gets close to happening once or twice, and eventually Katsuki reluctantly gives everyone in his fanclub a signed baseball from the game. It sits proudly on your bookshelves. Katsuki who in middle school eventually gets recruited to the small wrestling team as well and so now you’re stuck in the van in between these too in the back seat and driving all the way to his other tournaments in a giant sweaty gym. All of you with folders of paperwork in your laps as you dutifully try to complete hw before the match. You and Izuku snickering behind your books as Katsuki complains about a weggie from the uniform being too tight in the crotch. And Izuku, who started winning at spelling bees at an early age; whose ramblings landed him a spot in debate club when he got older. The T-ball never really stuck for him like it did for Kacchan. Who’s got an auditorium full of overachievers and stuffy dressed people staring at their stopwatch’s that are taking down every note. The evenings where there’s a tie being grueling. The early mornings a challenge of wits as you and Katsuki used to pilfer through a dictionary together. Index fingers frantically running over the letters of the words Izuku was trying to spell as your heads nearly bump into each other. The evenings where you’d lay your head on his or your parents shoulders as you tried to stay awake . . . Momma Inko always gently patting the two of you on the shoulders when the debate is over. You and Katsuki rubbings the sleep out of your eyes as you run off to congratulate Izuku. The late night milkshakes in the car as he continue talking about all the exciting little quirks of the game. You nodding along w The hours spent where Izuku would practice his word count at the kitchen table afterschool. You and Katsuki, used to the new routine, now bring headphones to drown out the noise of him practicing his talking so that you both can focus on studying. And y/n who’d gotten signed up for dance classes the same time the boys were busy attempting miniature versions of sports. Eventually sticking with it and finding that she’s naturally talented at looking graceful across the ballet stage. Always having Izuku and Katsuki come out to the performances and sitting with all the parents. The two of them always forced to dress formally like proper audience members and each of them clutching and handing you a bouquet of their own choosing when you arrive from backstage. Izuku’s classic green button up and eagerly handing you a sweetly wrapped ghetto bouquet as he comments on the ballet. Katsuki who comes out in slacks and loafers and sheepishly hands you a classic bouquet of red roses with his sweaty hands. Sometimes even getting you a matching bouquet so you can take photos with it in your costume; a factor you never seem to miss with a gasp and tease. Y/N who’s always preparing for the ballet over at Katsuki’s house. His father taking the time to help prepare your costume and pointe shoes together. The family office (which already was a design studio) now an explosion of ribbons and bubble gum pop as pins and needles do hems and tucks. Your mother and his always taking the time to practice teaching you how to do the makeup and hair yourself. Katsuki will always peak his head into the office to office to announce his presence as you swivel your head and beam from the dress pedalstol.

Y/N who quickly dives into theatre and music. The Suzuki cello lessons taking place for so long that eventually when Katsuki gets signed up for drum lessons the new carpool starts to break your routine. Instead of the usual music that you’re studying your accompanied by Katsuki tapping anxiously with his fingers against his knees. His lessons that take place down the hall so loud that you can hear them in the midst of your scales. And everyday for the first few months when asked how it was you’d grumble and snark out “not really sure it was impossible to hear with the super loud drums next door.” And quickly his lessons require a little bit of piano playing and soon enough the hallway is filled with plinkering notes as he attempts a sonata every Wednesday for 20 minutes. Eventually he gets good enough that his mother starts pressuring him to accompany your cello playing. And it’s 2 grueling days spent at his house where you’re forced to sit as Katsuki stiffly positions himself at the keyboard and hammers out the accompaniment to your solo. Very quickly the parents learn that this isn’t going to work very well and you and Katsuki go back on your merry way with lessons. Sometimes now you even get a good giggle when hammering along to something only for a drumstick to fly out of his hand. The resulting pause and string of curses simply hilarious from your safe distance. Y/N who joins theatre and try’s out for the musicals for several years. Whose excitement and participation in captivating performances moves Izuku to join shortly after. Momma Inko packing snacks into your bags as you stay afterschool. Your own parents picking the two of you up and having Izuku over for dinner until Momma Inko gets off of work. Izuku who’s fantastic at memorizing lines and lyrics that he quickly gets lead roles especially when there’s so few boys in theatre. And you who’s good enough at music and dancing that you’re on the “dance team” which is a special group of students from similiar backgrounds who get to do the more interesting choreography. The two of you a perfect duo of tenor and soprano which means that you can sing out all the songs out of context to your hearts content together. The two of you incredibly enthusiastic the year you do Macbeth because it’s the first time you’ve both landed big roles: Izuku as Banquo and Y/N as the head witch in the play. And now the both of you get to interact together on stage besides just being ensemble and chorus members.

Every rehearsal in costume you get to prance around with a cloak and dare to scare Izuku in the dark backstage. Except he’ll usually silently flinch and then grin with his arms open for an embrace whispering “n/n!” as he beckons you forth, “didn’t know you got back from costume and makeup already. That was super fast. You look good - uh I mean bad. Yeah, bad.”

And Katsuki’s forced to watch by himself with all of your folks giving y’all a congratulations and handing off another bouquet to you and giving Izuku a playful punch to the shoulder. The parents enthusiastically asking to get pictures of the two of you in costume.

Y/N with best few photos always ending up on your wall just like the rest of them that you have with the boys after everything you’ve done all these years together. Izuku has his catalogued by year in a scrapbook and Katsuki has his favorite one framed: a photo of you in your ballet outfit and him in his baseball get-up with a fashion disaster Izuku in the middle as he had to dress up for both events. The poor boy slightly sunburnt and covered in a far amount of glitter sandwiched between y’all.

#mysteriesmusing #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou #bakugou x reader #bakugou headcanons #izuku midoriya x reader #izuku midoriya #midoriya izuku #midoriya headcanons

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vinyldreamsfuckup · 11 months ago

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Long Time Coming

Warnings: fluff, dad slash, kissing, sexual innuendos

A: idk what this is but I just kept imaging young Slash as a dad. So this was born lol hopefully it’s not terrible. This is set in ‘95. Think of that Howard Stern interview 🫣🫣 should I write how Lily was conceived? 🙈

When you and Slash had your daughter Lily, you thought it was the best day of your lives. After months of traveling with Slash on tour you finally had given birth to Lily. You watched Slash with her. The way he would just melt every time he saw her. It honestly made you even more attracted to him. Lily had Slash’s curls and most of his features, but she had your eyes and lips. Everyone would always tell you two how much Lily looked like Slash and Slash would respond with, “But she’s got her momma’s eyes.”

It was his favorite part. The fact that she had your eyes and could see you in her. A little miniature version of the two of you. You two worked hard to raise her even while Slash was recording and going out on tour. Now touring with Snakepit Tensions were high with Guns right now, but today none of it mattered. Today was Lily’s third birthday. And she couldn’t wait to have her party with Slash here and see Uncle Axl. She came running down the hall toward Slash and you chuckled as you walked behind her. Her little curly pigtails bounced. She was wearing little jeans and converse and a pink shirt with butterflies on it.

“Daddy! Daddy!” Lily yelled as she ran toward Slash. He turned. His hair was pulled back into a ponytail and he had a baseball cap on. He was wearing some horror movie t-shirt. His bracelets jingled against his arms and his necklaces hung low. He looked so fucking hot.

“Lily! Baby,” Slash smiled and leaned down scooping her up. Lily giggled and grabbed Slash’s necklaces, “Happy Birthday.”

“Tank you!” Lily giggled out. Your heart warmed as you looked at him. She had a huge grin on her face as she looked up at Slash whose eyes were just full of love for his daughter. Slash looked up at you.

“And look at mom. She looks beautiful,” Slash said to Lily. You chuckled and walked over to him and kissed his cheek.

He turned your attention to you, “look at you.”

You were wearing a Motörhead t-shirt and jeans. Nothing special but he looked at you like you were the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. You looked down at your outfit and chuckled.

“I’m wearing what I always wear,” You said with a smile as you walked toward the kitchen. Slash followed behind you.

“Yeah well you’re sexy,” Slash smiled. You chuckled and started pulling food out of the fridge for the party.

“You’re still holding our daughter,” you said with a chuckle as you pulled plastic wrap off of platters.

“Mmm,” he covered Lily’s ear, “remember how we made her?”

“Slash!” You chuckled playfully. He grinned and kissed Lily’s forehead. The doorbell rang and Slash walked over to answer it. Axl was standing at the door holding presents. Slash tried to smile and Lily started giggling.

“Axl! Axl!” Lily yelled. Slash chuckled and Axl held his hands out taking her. Soon the party was in full swing. Lily was practically death gripping Axl and you were bringing out platters of food. People were swimming in the pool and music was playing. It was beautiful.

Slash walked up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. You leaned into his touch and rested your head on his chest, “I love you.”

You chuckled and looked up at him, “I love you too.”

Slash turned you around and cupped our face before kissing you deeply and passionately, “we could sneak away.”

He mumbled against your lips. You chuckled, “it’s our daughter’s birthday.”

You pulled away and looked up at him. He smiled and bit his lip. He looked around, “She’d never know.”

You laughed again and kissed him. Lily ran over to us, “mommy! Daddy! Look at Uncle Axl.”

Slash pulled away and looked over at Axl who had a giant knot in his hair.

“I braid,” Lily said with a smile. Slash chuckled and picked her up. He kissed her cheek and Lily giggled.

“You sure did, my love,” Slash said with a smile.

You looked at them together and couldn’t help but feel complete. This was all you could have ever wanted.

#guns n roses #slash gnr #slash guns n roses #gnr smut #guns n roses fanfic #guns n roses fluff #guns n roses smut #imagine #slash fanfiction #slash fluff #axl gnr #slash x reader #slash serpentine🐍#gnr fanfiction #gnr x reader #saul hudson

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yeonzzzn · 1 year ago

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👾he fell harder: yang jungwon

pairing: jungwon x afab!reader word count: 5.7k

synopsis: jungwon and you have always been competitors from children to adulthood, mostly when it came to gaming. so when the gaming club you both are apart of joins a competition, the two of you are put on the same team…

genre: gamer!won, gamer!reader, enemies to lovers

warnings: stupidly cute wonnie, swearing, gaming fun, a lot fluffly towards the end ♡

“Okay everyone, come collect your room keys and head to your respective rooms until you are called back down for practice. We will select your team members then.” Heeseung, your game club manager, yelled at the top of his lungs while standing on the hotel's lobby chair.

The professor in charge of this little miniature work/college/vacation clapped his hands twice to signal everyone to line up for their room keys.

“Hopefully I get a room with a balcony!” you rolled your eyes and sighed at the annoying voice in your ear.

You slightly turned to look at Jungwon, a smile spread wide on his face.

He wasn’t even speaking to you, but the fact he had to stand RIGHT NEXT to you when there’s a whole lobby full of other college students in your club he could be standing by.

You finally received your room key from Heeseung, and Jungwon got his right after.

“Y/N! What room do you have?” he cutely asks, trying to peak over your shoulder at the room number on the paper.

You scrunch your nose at him as you turn the paper away from him, “None of your business Yang Jungwon!” You retort, shoving your room key and paper into your jacket pocket.

Jungwon mimics your facial expression adding in his nasty side eye.

Heeseung calls everyone to head to their rooms, and to your dislike, Jungwon was right behind you as you got into the elevator.

“Oh? Going up?” he teased, as the other students filled in behind him.

You ignored him, watching as another student pressed the fourth-floor button. Silently blessing that kid for doing so that is why Jungwon couldn’t see which floor you were on. Because god, if he knew what floor you were on…the ways he would annoy you.

Your heart raced faster at each stop and not seeing Jungwon get off the elevator.

Maybe he was a few floors up?

Finally, the fourth floor was reached, you quickly stepped out, not realizing Jungwon was right behind you.

Jungwon couldn’t help but smile, his hands sliding down into his jeans pockets as his eyes searched for his room number, stopping at his door and seeing you stop at yours.

“No way,” he laughed, making you jump, “Neighbors again for the week!”

You slowly glared at him, making a mental note to unplug your hotel room phone the minute you got inside.

Quickly slapping the room key to the door and hearing it unlock, you rush yourself inside, locking the door and the hard bolt lock for safekeeping.

Dropping your backpack and suitcase to the floor, you fell onto the bed, your face going into the sheets as your favorite baseball hat fell from your head.

The vibrations of your phone pulled you out of your almost nap, your hand reaching into your pocket and pulling the device out.

It was a text from your best friend.

You didn’t even have to explain yourself to her, just your smiley face alone was enough for her to place the puzzle pieces together.

Locking your phone and dropping it by your face and rolling onto your back as you stare up at the ceiling.

It wasn’t always like this with Jungwon, being enemies. You actually have known him your entire life.

You grew up in the same neighborhood, his house being directly across the street from yours. Your parents became friends quickly after they moved into the house across from yours. Your mothers both ended up becoming pregnant around the same time just added to the friendship your families have. What was icing on the cake was you being born a week after Jungwon.

Your mothers always arranged play dates and was not only an excuse for the two of you to grow up as best friends, but a way for them to spend time together. Same with your dads.

The amount of cookouts the families would throw together. You couldn’t even count on your hands and feet with how many times you’ve seen the Yang’s backyard.

It wasn’t just the play dates, your parents made sure you and Jungwon attended the same daycare after they returned to work and even enrolled you both at the same preschool. Your parents would even have the two of you take bubble baths together as infants, and they have pictures to prove it.

Your family was always at their house or them at yours. Heck, even Jungwon’s older sister was tired of seeing you around so often. Not like you could have helped it.

Your friendship with Jungwon slowly started to change once you got into elementary school when the fight to be top of the class with good grades was introduced.

Jungwon and you have always been competitive, even before elementary school. With toys, drawing, board games with the family, and even the stupid little games toddlers play like seeing who can run faster or drink their orange juice faster and not get sick.

Just the competitiveness got worse once grades got involved, and it didn’t stop there. Family nights with board games got worse. Rushing to see who can finish their homework first and get the least amount of questions wrong. Fighting to be at the top of the class. Sports. Band. Taekwondo. You name it, you both probably got competitive over it. Even getting into the same middle and high school was a competition.

It drove your friendship apart halfway through elementary school, and you’ve been enemies since.

But the god giving fate your families have for the two of you to finally makeup, you both were accepted into the same college. You groaned after finding out from your mother that he was also accepted. But once you moved into the dorms, you were happy to find out his dorm was on the opposite side of the campus. Plus both your majors were two separate things, so seeing him was slim.

But your happiness soon faded after you walked into the video game club and saw his shit-eating grin staring back at you with his Nintendo Switch in his hands as a pokémon battle song played through its speakers.

Honestly, you should have known he would also join the gaming club. You both grew up as gamers after all. If there wasn’t a board game or a handheld console in your hands, it was the PlayStation or the gaming laptop or PC.

You didn’t realize how much time had passed when a knock came to your door.

“Y/N,” it was Jungwon, “Heeseung just texted me, we are meeting downstairs in ten,” you rolled your eyes, forgetting how close Heeseung and Jungwon were, “Just wanted to let you know because I am heading down first.”

You quickly jumped from the bed, pulling your hat back on your head and your phone into your pocket, double-checking that you had the room key, and busted out the door.

You looked down both sides of the hallway, seeing Jungwon’s grin as the elevator door closed.

“Shit!” you scoffed, eyes then catching the door to the stairs.

You quickly ran down them, thanking whatever God gave you your athletic ability as you finally reached the lobby floor, hands pushing the metal on the door open, rushing through, and seeing Jungwon step out of the elevator at the same time.

He made eye contact with you for a split second before the both of you made a full sprint to the middle of the lobby where Heeseung was standing.

“Woah woah woah!!!” Heeseung yelled, holding both hands up to save himself in case you both knocked him down.

Heeseung held his hand to his heart once the two of you made a complete stop.

“Can you two let go of this never-ending fight?” Heeseung took a deep breath, standing back up straighter. Eyes looking between the two of you.

You squinted your eyes at Jungwon as he gave back the same look.

“Or not,” Heeseung sighed, dropping himself into the nearest seat, “At least sit-down or something.”

One by one the rest of the students piled into the lobby, Yunjin linking her arm with yours.

“Okay, everyone!” Heeseung yelled, standing back on the same chair as earlier, “We will put you guys into teams now!”

“Can I be on your team, Heeseung Hyung?!” one of the male students yelled from the back, causing the crowd to laugh.

Heeseung smirked and ran a hand through his hair, “It’s because I’m the best gamer right?” A couple of female students cooed out an “ahhh” as his reaction. You had to admit, Heeseung was a very good-looking man and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t have a tiny crush on him. He was indeed the best gamer in the club, hinting at the reason he’s the manager in the first place.

“I am just kidding, you guys are all the best which is why you’ve made it this far in this competition.” Heeseung gave another smirk as he looked around at the students.

You couldn’t help but smile up at him. But your smile didn’t go unnoticed by Jungwon.

His eyes stared at you from across the crowd of his club members, watching as you made heart eyes at his best friend while he was standing right beside him.

“Hyung,” Jungwon said, catching Heeseung’s attention.

“Right!” Heeseung continued, “Unfortunately, everyone has already been put into teams, and we have enough people to be put into ten teams of two. Once your team is called, please meet up with each other and discuss your plan for this week's competition.”

“Hopefully we are a team! We always fuck shit up as a team!” Yunjin whispered. You nodded, praying to be paired with her. The two of you always kill it at video games together. You’re so happy that she was not only your roommate, but also a fellow club member after you met.

A clipboard was handed to him and started to read off the names of each team.

Yunjin unfortunately wasn’t paired with you and was put on a team with the male student who asked to be with Heeseung.

Finally, your name was called…

“Y/N and Jungwon.”

Your jaw clenched as your eyes found Jungwon’s. You expected him to have his normal shit-eating grin, only to see he was staring back at you, a completely blank face. No expression whatsoever.

The rest of the teams were called and placed into their teams.

“Okay!” Heeseung clapped his hand against the clipboard, “Get into your team and raise your hand if you have any questions!”

Your hand flew into the air, standing on your tippy toes to make sure you were seen.

“Yes, Y/N?” Heeseung nervously asked, already knowing what the issue was.

“Can I switch teams?”

“Ahhh…” Heeseung glanced down at Jungwon who was mid-rolling his eyes at you. Jungwon felt his eyes on him, slowly glancing at his hyung, “Unfortunately the teams were randomly picked, and cannot be changed. It’s the competition rules, I’m sorry.”

You dropped your hand to your side, feeling defeated but also understanding.

This competition wasn’t meant to be fair. The whole point was being paired up with different people and going against other students from other colleges was it to be a challenge.

Heeseung slowly climbed down from the chair, making his way towards his partner.

Jungwon slowly walked up to you, his shit-eating grin finally making an appearance, “Hi teammate.”

“Fuck off, Won.” You sighed, crossing your arms as you started to walk away from him.

“That’s not very nice,” Jungwon smirked as he kept up with your pace, “We are teammates, gotta play nice.”

You stopped in front of the elevator, finger pressing the up button, “Jungwon, I’ve spent my whole life with you, can I please have some space?”

Jungwon glanced up as if he were thinking about it, “No.”

The doors opened and you stepped in, Jungwon right on your heels.

“Besides,” he said, pulling his phone from his pocket and checking the time, “We find out what the first game is tomorrow, want to practice?”

“No thanks, Yunjin and I are going to play Overwatch tonight,” you said without hesitation, leaving Jungwon wide-eyed as you stepped out of the elevator onto your floor, “Besides,” you mocked him, “We will start practicing tomorrow.”

—

You sat in the corner of the gaming cafe that was rented out for your club for the whole week.

You twisted around in the chair, eyes landing on Jungwon as he dropped into the chair beside you, his arms filled with snacks.

“You still like orange soda and candy right?” He set the soda and oranges flavored bag of candy in front of you.

The ache you felt in your heart while looking at the soda and candy made you a little bit sad.

Did he remember? After all these years he still never forgot your favorite snacks from when you were children?

You looked up at him as he opened his can of orange soda, “What? I know you’re staring at me.”

“You remembered?”

Jungwon looks at you, giving a small nod, “I never forgot.”

You glanced back down at your snacks, hands finally reaching to open the candy bag.

A smirk danced on Jungwon’s face as he took a sip of his soda and let out a small chuckle.

The soft feeling you just felt went away instantly, reminding you that Jungwon was no longer your friend but indeed your enemy.

“You annoy me so much, Yang Jungwon.”

His chuckle only continued, “What? You act like we never used to take bubble baths together as infants or something.”

“Shut up,” you snapped, pulling your baseball hat down to cover your eyes, “Just eat your snacks.”

Finally, once everyone was seated with their teammate, the official announcer of the competition came by and announced the first game round was League of Legends.

“The way this competition will work is we will have multiple rounds of each game, whichever team hits the first ten slots with their wins using the bracket method, will move on to the next round. Each practice day for the games will be two days.” The announcer explained the rules, and once everyone understood, he left to go to another school's cafe.

Jungwon cracked his fingers and his neck, stretching out his arms and pulling himself closer to the table, “LOL is way too easy, we’ll make it to the next round for sure.”

You nodded, also doing small stretches before moving yourself closer.

Jungwon and you have always been smart with strategy, attack, and defense games. Mostly since the two of you have had to use these three things with your self-competition.

The first practice day went in a flash. You rubbed your eyes and you dragged your feet to your room, unlocking the door and trailing in.

You wanted nothing but to shower, order food, and then go to bed. But being a gamer, and having friends who are gamers, wouldn’t let that happen so easily.

With a quick shower and food on the way, you sat at the desk with your gaming laptop open, joining your friends' discord call.

“Y/NINNEEE!!” Huening Kai sang through the mic as he saw your username pop into the call.

“Hello hello~” You sang back, “Hope you aren’t missing me too much in Bio.”

Kai scoffed, “As if, the class is a lot quieter now.”

“So was this call before Y/N joined,” Beomgyu teased, but then a soft sigh left his lips when Yunjin’s username joined the call.

“Wow, can’t believe you’re on a call without me!?!” she gasped.

“Oh gross, who invited you in here?!” Beomgyu groaned, his side eye being felt through the mic.

“It’s an open voice chat, asshole, plus I am ALWAYS invited in here!” she spat back.

You giggle at your best friend's banter, making you miss being back on campus.

You decided to open up League of Legends, better to get more practice in before the first round.

“Ugh! League?!” Beomgyu said disgustedly, “Why!?”

You roll your eyes, “Because it’s the first game we are playing for the competition Gyu.”

“Y/N, lemme in so I can practice too.” Yunjin hummed, “And anyways, you act like you were even invited to play?”

Beomgyu chuckled, “Don’t we always play games together? Isn’t that the point of being in a call?”

“Hyung, we are literally playing phasmophobia right now. Kai sassed, “We need ONE MORE piece of evidence to find the ghost.”

“But I am scaredddddd” Gyu pouted.

You once again found yourself laughing at your friends, only for your smile to fade when you see Jungwon’s username pop up on the left side of your discord showing you had a message from him.

You opened it seeing it was just him asking for an invite to the league match, which you ignored. You already practiced enough with him today and will all day tomorrow as well. He can deal with it.

Jungwon slouched down in his chair, staring at the discord message he sent you, debating if he should send you a call instead, but stopped at the sound of your laughing and hearing Huening Kai’s name come from your mouth.

Jungwon sighed, you were clearly with your friends.

—

The second day of practice also flew by quickly, the first competition day being finally here.

The competition was being held at a small center, just big enough for the gaming clubs and the officials.

Your team was placed in the third round of brackets, so there was plenty of time to get your nerves under control.

You sat in the bleachers, watching the current game on the massive screen in the middle of the room that was filled with each player's screen.

“There you are,” Jungwon said, flicking his index finger to your hat and sitting beside you, “You ready?”

You shrugged, “We practiced enough, I was confident until watching the way some of the teams from other schools play.”

Jungwon nodded, “Yeah they are good, but we are better.”

You looked at him, his eyes slowly finding their way to yours as well, “You’re competitive through and through aren’t you?”

He smiled so wide his cute dimples you loved so much as kids made their appearance, his ego also coming through, “Well yeah, of course! I am literally the best gamer in our club.”

You rolled your eyes, dropping your chin into your hands, “I can’t stand you.”

“I hear that often.” He teased, reaching up and taking your hat off your head.

“Hey! Give it back!”

“Since when did you start wearing hats?” Jungwon asked, placing the hat on his head, “How do I look?”

“It brings me luck! Now give it!”

You snatched it from him, placing it back on your head.

“Damn,” he hissed, “Didn’t bring you enough luck since you got stuck with me as your teammate.”

Jungwon stretched his legs out and leaned back on his hands, releasing a sigh and shaking his head.

All you could do was stare at him, you struck a nerve with him.

The final round ended, calling for the next bracket of players to make their way to the gaming area.

“Come on,” Jungwon stood up, sliding his hands in his pockets, “Let’s kick some ass so we can go back to the hotel.”

You studied him and his body language, this wasn’t like the normal Jungwon you knew.

He sat quietly in his chair as he placed his headphones over his ears and set his mic up properly to his liking.

You tried to focus on the monitor before you, but the tension was high between you and your teammate. You already knew being on the same team as him was going to be hard, you just didn’t expect this.

The announcer started the game, and your focus narrowed in.

Jungwon’s whole demeanor changed right back into the competitive boy you knew the moment the game started.

Before you knew it, you and Jungwon were being crowned as the victors of the first day, moving on to the next round.

—

The gaming cafe went larger as the teams from your school who didn’t make it past the first round were sent home.

The second round was Overwatch, which sent you and Yunjin looking at each other from across the cafe from the excitement.

Since Overwatch is a six-player team, two other teams will be put together for this round.

The first and second day of practice came and went. Your confidence boosts knowing this next round will be a piece of cake.

You jumped onto your gaming PC, loading up overwatch and fixing to send Yunjin an invite when your phone vibrates, receiving a call from Jungwon. You ignored the call, hovering over Yunjin’s discord username when a string of texts spams your phone.

Jungwon made his way inside your hotel room, pushing his chair with his laptop and snacks in it.

“We can’t be up too late you know,” you raised a brow at him, “We have to be at the center early.”

Jungwon shrugged, setting up his laptop beside yours, “We can play for about an hour or so.”

Jungwon watched as you sat down beside him, pulling your headset over your ears.

His heart raced to see you in your cute pink sweatpants and black hoodie, your hair pulled back into a messy bun.

His palms got clammy from the sudden nervousness that washed over him. He’s known you since birth and sees you as a good rival, why is he so nervous over you right now?

Maybe it’s because all Jungwon wants to do is confess everything he’s been hiding all these years.

That he hopes being on this team with you can rekindle what was broken and win you back, but so far it hasn’t worked.

He opens his mouth to say something, just to close it just as quickly, and sets his eyes on his laptop screen.

As the overwatch game went on, the more friendly the both of you became with each other. With small jokes and Jungwon reaching over to press random keys on your laptop just for you to swing his hand out the way as you laugh.

God, it made his heart race even more. To finally feel like things were back in place.

You had to admit you enjoyed this moment. It felt like you actually had your childhood best friend back.

But how long would this moment actually last? Until you got back on campus for the rivalry just to start again?

You cleared your throat, snapping Jungwon’s attention to you, “It’s late, I think you should leave.”

Jungwon’s smile faded, nodding softly as he gathered his things, leaving you alone in the room.

—

Your overwatch team left the gaming area cheering. You’ve made it to the final round.

Yunjin’s and even Heeseung’s teams were knocked out early on in the day. Which made you sad to see your best friend go.

Heeseung was stuck there since You and Jungwon were the only team left from your club still in the game, which surprised you that Heeseung was knocked out. He was the best gamer you knew.

The final contestants that remained, pulled you against your will to a bar to party.

Both you and Jungwon weren’t social butterflies, but Jungwon was able to blend in with the other students perfectly fine.

You, on the other hand, were slowly inching your way closer to the front entrance, making your sweet escape.

Tucking your hands into your jacket pockets, you slowly made your walk back to the hotel, thinking you finally got some peace until you heard the scuffling of shoes running after you.

“Y/N!!”

You rolled your eyes, you just can’t get away from him, can you?

“What, Jungwon?” you sigh, walking a bit faster.

“Where are you going? I noticed you were gone.”

“Back to the hotel, obviously. Please go away.”

Jungwon could sense something was…off.

“Hey,” his voice filled with concern as he wrapped his hand around your forearm, “Y/N what’s wrong?”

You shook your arm from his grip, staring daggers at him.

Jungwon dropped his arms at his side, raising his eyebrows at you, “What? Why are you angry with me now?”

You groaned, “Because! You won’t leave me alone!”

Jungwon scoffed, “Maybe I want to spend time with you? With my teammate? Is that so bad? We literally kicked ass today, yet you’re upset with me?”

“Yes! You’ve been acting more friendly than normal with me lately! Not your usual teasing me and showing off like you’d always do!”

Jungwon narrowed his brows at you, very much confused, “You hate me when we are rivals, and now you hate me for trying to be friends with you? Pick a fucking struggle Y/N.” he shoved his hands into his jean jacket pockets, twisting the hand warmers with his fingers as a distraction.

You laughed, “Why are you even trying to be friends with me anyway?! Everything is just going to go back to normal once we step foot back on campus! So why?! All you have done is suffocate me since we’ve been here!” you took a deep breath, rubbing your fingertips at your temples, “I was so looking forward to having a somewhat relaxing time here with Yunjin as my teammate and us as normal rivals but good lord my luck has actually been shitty like you stated the other day.”

Jungwon licked his bottom lip as he stared down at his sneakers, trying to keep his eyes dry, “I asked Heeseung to put us on a team together.”

You looked at him confused, your body relaxing a little, “What?”

Jungwon looks back up at you, his eyes glossed over, “I asked Heeseung to pair us up. The plan was originally to have everyone draw names from a bowl but I…” he looks away from you, staring off down the street, “I asked him to just pair people up and make it seem like it was random and to just give me you.”

Snow started to fall from the sky, slowly collecting in his soft dark hair.

“Why…?” you softly whispered.

Jungwon chuckled, reaching a hand to scratch his face as if it would help him find the right words, “Because I wanted to rekindle our friendship. I wanted to leave this competitiveness behind us. To fix what got broken, Y/N, it’s my fault why things got the way they are now.”

You didn’t know what to say, so you stood there, continuing to listen to him.

“I thought it was just us having fun, just two kids being stupid until it got to my head. I enjoyed winning. I enjoyed the praise from everyone. And because of that, our little games turned into hatred. To us being enemies. It’s my fault that I let go of our friendship. I kept this rivalry going for all these years because it was the only way I could keep you in my life.”

You looked down at the ground, your hat covering him out of your sight completely.

Jungwon took a deep breath, “I miss you. So fucking much. I wanted this trip to bring you back to me. That’s why I tried so hard. I wasn’t trying to suffocate you, that’s the last thing I want.”

His footsteps got closer to you, and by habit, you clasped your fingers on your hat bill, pulling it down as you looked even further away.

“Y/N, look at me please.”

You were scared too, scared to look at him and he sees how much you’ve also missed him. That you were blinded by the rivalry into thinking you hated him. You wanted your best friend back, but did you deserve him?

Suddenly you felt the pull of your hat being taken. Jungwon’s fingers lift the bill up exposing your face.

You made eye contact with him not even for a second before his free hand cupped your jaw and pressed his lips to yours.

Jungwon pulled your body closer to him, deepening the kiss as his tongue pressed against your lips to allow it in, sliding it against your own tongue.

Your hand gripped the openings of his jacket, holding on for dear life as your head spun.

The last thing you expected tonight was to make out with your best friend as the snow fell.

But it was romantic nonetheless.

The sounds of a car honking on the street pulled you two back to reality.

You jumped away from Jungwon, wrapping your jacket around your body.

Jungwon smiled, placing your hat back on your head, pulling the bill down way too far in a way to tease you.

“I am also in love with you, Y/N.” Jungwon didn’t expect him confessing his feelings to you would be exactly like this, but what better way than right now as he’s teasing you like old times?

Once Jungwon’s hand was gone from your head you looked up at him, trying to make sure you heard what he said correctly.

Jungwon rubbed his thumb against your cheek, “I have been in love with you for as long as I can remember,” he tucked his bottom lip between his teeth and then released it along with a sigh, “I’ve loved you even as kids. For some reason, I always knew I loved you, and as the years went on, I only came to understand my feelings for you more and more.”

Jungwon slid his hand from your face down to your hand, taking it in his own, “That's another reason I asked Heeseung to pair me with you. I wanted to apologize for letting you go, for choosing the competitive life over the one we could have had together if I never let you go. If I told you from the start how I felt.”

Before you could say anything, the partying students finally left the bar, their loud voices echoing over to you and Jungwon, causing him to drop his hand to his side, taking a few steps away.

“Let’s go, we have a long couple of days ahead of us.”

The walk back to the hotel was quiet.

—

The last and final round of the competition was a battle royale.

Jungwon bounced in his chair, excited as battle royale was his favorite.

You, on the other hand, weren’t the best at them.

No amount of practice the last couple of days was enough to prepare you.

You even snuck over to Jungwon’s room and begged him to help you, letting you in with a roll of his eyes saying you would do perfectly fine.

You were good at battle royale, yes, but after finding out the team you were up against was KNOWN as battle royale players.

You even so much as went and stalked their Steam and Twitch accounts. All they play is battle royales.

The day of the finale came faster than you’d like.

You twisted your fingers together as you stared off in the distance of the gaming area, your headphones dangling around your neck.

Jungwon looked over at you, placing his hand on top of yours.

You looked over at him, his dimple smiling being enough to relax you.

“It’s okay, we will kick ass,” There he goes with his confidence, “I am the best at battle royales, and you are also good at them, we got this. Just stick to me.”’

You nodded, giving a soft pout when he looked away and released his hand from yours.

The announcer started the game, and the finale began.

You stuck to Jungwon like glue, looting the area and switching guns out for better ones as the timer ran down.

One by one you and Jungwon took out each team you came into contact with, but that was solely because of the fact Jungwon always comes in clutch in hard situations.

Until it came down to the last two teams. Yours and the team you were worried about.

Jungwon gave orders as you followed him to the next and final circle, sliding and hiding behind a building.

Jungwon pulled his sniper out, aiming down sights to see where the enemy team could be. You crept into the building, doing one last final round of looting and reloading, ready to walk out, when Jungwon screamed beside you.

“Wonnie?! What?!”

“Don’t leave that building!”

You did as you were told, peaking your head out a window, seeing Jungwon down one of the players, just for the second one to pop out of nowhere and down him.

“Fuck!” Jungwon scoffed, dropping his headset down around his neck and rolling his chair to your side, staring at your screen.

“Y/N, you need to down him before he picks up his teammate.”

Your fingers shake against the keyboard, as you quickly run out from the building.

“You got this,” Jungwon reassured you.

You run up behind the other player, “What if I don’t?”

“Baby, listen to me,” him calling you baby was enough to make your heart race even more, “You got this, okay?”

You nodded, switching your guns quickly just in time for the other player to turn around and start shooting, but you were quicker. Sliding out of the way, and getting up behind him with a shotgun in hand, pulling the trigger and downing him. The title of winner flashed across your screen.

“I did it!” you shouted, turning to look at Jungwon, “We did it!”

Jungwon high-fives your hands, his fingers intertwined with yours, shaking your hands back and forth, “We did it!”

With no hesitation, you leaned forward, pressing a quick kiss to his lips.

Jungwon was too stunned to say anything, eyes blinking rapidly.

You pulled your headset down around your neck, letting yourself hear the outside world.

“I am in love with you too,” You smiled, heart nearly beating out of your chest, “I always have been and just covered it up with the hatred I had. I’ve missed you too, and you weren’t actually suffocating me, I said that out of anger and confusion, I—“

That’s all Jungwon needed to hear, shutting you up by pressing his lips back to yours, cupping your hands softly between his hands.

All he cared about was winning you back, and he did. Winning the gaming competition was just a bonus.

He made you fall for him all over again, only he fell harder than he did before.

#wonnie #yang jungwon #jungwon #jungwon x reader #reader x jungwon #enhypen #reader x enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen fanfic #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enemies to lovers #yeonzzzn writing

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socialkid · 1 year ago

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Imagine…

It’s a casual Saturday afternoon in the middle of June. The sun is out with mild wind, it was the perfect weather. And when the weather is nice like this, everyone knows to watch out for you. Because around this time, you’re shopping. Shopping, shopping, shopping. You run from store to store buying everything in sight. Most of the time with your money, which makes your boyfriend mad. He likes to pay for you.

You boyfriend: Bakugou who knows you love shopping. The days when you have free time, what are you doing? Shopping. The nights where Bakugou’s pacing up and down your apartment because you won’t answer the phone then suddenly, you come bursting through the front door with a bunch of shopping bags. He knows. If anyone knows it’s him.

This morning Bakugou had gotten a call and he was reminded that he had a day off from the agency he worked at. So when he woke you up to ask what you wanted to do today, he wondered why he asked, already knowing your answer.

Now you and Bakugou were walking through the strip mall, him holding two of your bags in one hand and his other holding yours.

“Are we done yet? I wanna take you dinner and we can’t be here all day.” Bakugou asked, grunting as he readjusted your bags.

“Not even close babe,” you said with a quickness as he groaned, “Besides, it’s only two o’clock. You don’t want to just sit around till dinner do you?” You asked him.

“Yea yeah.” He said.

You looked through the windows of the stores as they went by. Preppy, pink and frilly stores, tomboy stores, casual clothing stores, toy stores, and so much more.

“Where we goin’ next huh?” Bakugou asked, looking through some of the bags he was holding. “Hmmm probably Spencer’s, then we could hit up the food court for Auntie Anne’s, and then Foreve-” you stopped in your tracks at a merch store. The window displayed, shirts and hats of merchandise by well known creators.

Bakugou looked at you as you made googly eyes at the coryxkenshien merch, worn by a mannequin. “Y/n…don’t start-” your boyfriend was interrupted by you squealing and jumping. “Just go in the damn store already.” Bakugou sighed as you rushed in. Bakugou made his way in behind you slowly after. Not even 15 seconds later and he had already lost you.

He made his way around the store looking for you, and calling your name every once in a while. He got the idea to check by the Cory section. No sign of you. He checked the sections of your favorite artists and creators, still no sign of you.

He had actually started to become a little panicky. “Y/n? Where are you?” He raised his voice. He knew you were smart, the complete opposite of vulnerable. You could help yourself if you needed to. Even without using your quirk, you can handle anyone. But still, Bakugou wanted to make sure you were safe.

Bakugou had checked almost every area of the store and he had continued to worry. Before resorting to shouting your name he saw a section under a sign that wrote “Heroes”.

As soon as he entered, your voice began to fade in, “Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my goshhh!” Bakugou walked past all the merchandise: Earser Head, Red Riot, Chargebolt, and more. He finally stopped when he saw you gazing at a triple layered table, sitting under a sign labeled “Dynamite”.

There on the table was a clear representation of Katsuki himself. The black and orange shirts and pants, hoodies labeled ‘Dynamite’ in black and orange letters, and miniature sized Dynamite plushies.

Bakugou couldn’t help but grin a little bit when you turned around to face him, already wearing a baseball cap with his named labeled onto it. “Babe! Look! It’s you! Everywhere! Oh my gosh!” You said smiling from ear to ear. “I can see that y/n.” He said sarcastically, chuckling a bit, “Calm down, you can get what you want I’ll pay for it.”

He didn’t have to tell you twice. You picked up everything that had his name on it. Hoodies, tank tops, hats, water bottles, stuffed plushies, fake tattoos, etc. You also stashed a few items by Shoto, Red Riot, and even one or two Deku items.

You were so excited for your items. So excited you didn’t pay attention to the shocked face of the cashier ringing up all the Dynamite merchandise, as she looked at Dynamite behind you.

After that nothing else in the mall seemed interesting. At this point you were ready to go home before dinner and check out your man’s merch.

After that day, you made sure to put your items to use. You were always flaunting your boyfriend and you made sure everybody knew it.

One night your boyfriend had called you up and asked if he could sleepover at your apartment. And when he arrived he was meet with you, wearing an oversized Dynamite shirt. He couldn’t help his intentions that night. And when everything was done, you cuddled up next to your Dynamite plushie and your life sized Dynamite.

“You love me don’t you?” Bakugou asked, you could practically hear his grin.

“Yup, both of you.”

#bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #bakugou x yn #boku no hero academia #bakugou x you #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugou fluff #bakugou imagine #bakugou katsuki x reader

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fullofgutsndopamine · 7 months ago

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Happy Holidays (Let’s Hope For The Best)

or: You always hated the holidays. Schlatt tries to change your mind

originally posted on a different blog of mine. i’m well aware it’s september.

i hope you enjoy! I've never written for Schlatt before, so I hope it's okay and i got his voice right

tw/cursing, angst if you squint, ‘jay’ for schlatt

schlatt knew your hatred towards the holidays.

long winded rants when you were less than sober, talking with your hands about how this holiday had become more on gifts than the actual spirit of christmas, the idea to stay in and be with your loved ones on a holiday-

and in his defense, for a long time, he listened.

eyes slanted as he slowly shook his head as you ranted, an occasional, “yeah, no. right-“ so you know he’s listening.

it started small, he didn’t force it.

“Jay,” The sigh is evident in your voice, “what the fuck is this?”

you hold the tiny culprit in your hand, a miniature snowman, made of ceramic and chipped with age, no larger than your palm.

"What do you-" He sets his phone down, eyebrows one, genuinely confused for a second before the smallest smile you've ever seen pulls gently at the tips, threatening to actually smile-

"Jay." You say gently, simply.

He gives himself away.

"I dunno who would do that," He shrugs, eyebrows knit as he stares at his phone again, "Especially knowing they live with the actual Grinch."

"Do you?" You tease, hope he doesn't see as you pocket the snowman, bury him deep into your jean pockets, a new lucky charm for you. Some of the ice melts away, slowly, a little crack falls off, but you wouldn't let him know that.

"Yeah," He snorts, pads over to the couch where you sit, wiggles his toes to be buried under your thighs, "Tried to fuckin' evict 'em, but it was too much work."

Days pass, and you almost forget about it.

Every time you slip into the jeans for work, you remember the small snowman buried deep into your pocket, rub it like its some sort of worry doll.

The snowman was the first, but not the last.

Second, it was the creepy santa soap dispenser shoved in the corner by your sink in the bathroom. Schlatt left the rest of the bathroom untouched, and when you squeeze it into your hand, your immediately hit with the smell of marshmallows.

“who the fuck is putting christmas shit out?” he says again, bites his lip to hide the smile, “Especially in the grinch’s lair.”

“yeah,” you tease back, “and i used it and it smelled like fuckin’ marshmallows.”

“marshmallows?!” he buffs, “that’s it, i’m writing the landlord.”

and he kisses the crown of your head and pads downstairs.

from then on, he gets bolder.

You come home and he’s gently wrapping christmas lights around the bush in the front yard, sees you coming and speaks first: “to keep the fuckin’ kids away.” with a wink, as if he has something figured out.

he has a stupid santa hat on top of a baseball cap, teetering, threatens to fall off any second, and his face is pink from the cold, his fingertips are ice and it’s obvious, from how lit up the house looks, that he’s spent a lot of time planning and putting this together.

“I don’t think that’s how it works.” you tease back, grabbing him by his coat and pulling him in for a kiss.

“what?!” he yells back, “that’s not how it fuckin’ works?! shit!” he teases back, the smile gives him away.

when you pull away, he takes the santa hat off his own head, shoves it over yours, and turns away, back to the bushes with a smile on his face.

You make your way inside, towards the kitchen to make him some hot chocolate to enjoy as the temperature falls more, and the sun slowly sets, and act as if you don’t see the mistletoe in the threshold of all the rooms, or the lights hanging around, even the little christmas village knick knacks that hang onto every surface-a post office shoved into the corner of the kitchen, and Santa’s Workshop sits in the front room-

days pass again, and you finally give in.

“Look,” you lean against the door as Schlatt comes in, a mixing bowl against his hip and a kiss the cook apron around his waist. “promise me you won’t make this a big deal.”

“okay,” he licks his lips, nods, “that’s ominous as fuck.”

“Just-sit on the couch, close your eyes, and promise to not make a big deal about it.” you grab him by the hand and gently lead him to the couch, have him sit on the edge of it and lift his hand so it rests over his eyes.

Schlatt bites his lip to keep from smiling as he hears something being dragged against the floor of the living room, before you speak again, obviously out of breath from the mini work out.

“Okay, don’t read into this,” you say one last time, “Open your eyes.”

he obeys, slowly blinks them open and sees the cardboard half busted tree box, and lets out a loud laugh: “Guess the grinches heart did grow two sizes larger, hm?”

he stands, pulls you close and kisses you on the lips, his voice drops, which is rare, his voice comes back gentle, which is also rare, means he means what he’s about to say, listen up: “I’m glad you changed your mind. Was worried id gone to far.”

you snort, “You? too far? never.” and your voice drops as well, “besides, had to give in eventually. make new traditions with you, or something right?”

you’re obviously referencing to the first few weeks of December, when he all but begged for at least a free, a string of lights-something, anything-is use to these lavish holiday traditions-only to be met by your stubbornness, the sting and ache of lonely holidays, another regular day too much for you-

“we can make new traditions,” he insisted one night, curled into you in the too small bed, the only light coming from the street light outside that flares into your eyes if you move your head the wrong way, “it doesn’t have to all be bad. let me help-“

“leave it, Jay,” you huff, shake your shoulders so his chin falls off form your shoulder as you flip to face the wall, sick of this discussion.

“that’s right-“ he smiles, surprised you were listening, “that’s exactly right, yeah.”

And he helps you drag the box into the corner, sets up his phone to play all his favorite christmas music, tells these stories of songs he loved growing up, doing certain activities to certain songs-

The music plays and though it doesn’t cal for it, Schlatt stops you every once in awhile, spins you around on your heels and dips you to a song, only for you to stand back up straight and slowly hang up the small collection of ornaments he stock piled away.

The night ends with cookies in the kitchen, the pre made kind that he bought the day after halloween and you kept shoving further and further back to try and forget of their existence, little cherry santa’s with crooked hats and little snowman placed on a tray as you two wait for them to be done, suddenly little kids again, the excitement of waiting up all night to try and find santa hangs in the air-

schlatt plates the cookies, makes hot chocolate and pads to the front room, throws a blanket over the two of you as you clink cookies together as a gentle cheers, settling on whatever movie hallmark is playing, even if it’s half way done.

schlatt is quiet next to you, plays with your hair as you rest your head on his chest, enjoying the sight of your new tree before you crane your neck to look up at him-

“i think i like our tradition now.”

he smiles, runs the pads of his thumb over your face gently, “Yeah? You a christmas fan yet?”

and you want to say the truth, how it’s hard not to be when your in his presence, how it’s hard to not smile and want to embrace every cliche, but instead you snort: “let’s not get carried away.”

he rolls his eyes, “of course not,” but his voice drops as he drops his head, rests his lips against your forehead as he speaks: “Im glad you’re enjoying it though, you deserve some good holiday memories instead.”

and he kisses your forehead as he settles back in, pulls the blanket togetber over you, and hangs you the obnoxious santa mug he had stored in the cabinet for you for when you finally came around

#caroline writes #jschlatt #schlatt #jschlatt fic #jschlatt fanfic #jschlatt fanfiction #jschlatt ff #jschlatt imagine #jschlatt x reader #jschlatt x you #jschlatt x y/n #schlatt x reader #schlatt x you #schlatt x y/n #schlatt fic #schlatt fanfic #schlatt fanfiction #schlatt imagine

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arkangelo-7 · 6 months ago

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Headcannon that Bruce Wayne takes the Justice League to an amusement park and then never does that Shit™ ever again.

They all go in civilian identities, but since some of them (i.e. Bruce and Oliver ) are recognizable outside of costume, they have to wear disguises anyway. (I’m imaging the classic baseball cap and sunglasses, 2016 MCU-core). Obviously this does nothing but make people even more suspicious. Bruce and Ollie spend half a hour in the men’s bathroom trying to dodge the paparazzi—rumors quickly emerge that they’re hooking up. It’s a PR disaster.

But everything else is a disaster too.

Arthur drops $300 dollars trying to win prize goldfish so he can release it back into the ocean. (He loses every time and eventually used the power of the Sea or something and caused a miniature tsunami—the minimum wage worker behind the counter is not impressed.)

Clark and Barry somehow end up in a hot dog eating contest—Barry wins, Clark gets fourth, but when they get back to the Watchtower both of them spend a solid ten minutes throwing up.

Dinah and Diana get competitive and try to see how many times they can go on the park’s fastest roller coaster in a row. (The answer is 14, by the way.)

Hal, John, Kyle, and Jessica go to play laser tag but get their asses handed to them a bunch of twenty-somethings there for a bachelorette party. (Jessica switched sides halfway into the round and is now a member of the wedding party + Kyle gets a high heel to the face somehow and has to go the ER.)

Martian Manhunter waits in line to buy funnel cake but end up getting detained by amusement park cops because Hal looks suspiciously like the guy who tried to cut the line at the spaceship-themed ride. (He thought it actually went to space, Cyborg had to pay 50 bucks to bail him out.)

When all’s said and done, Bruce is out a couple thousand dollars and has to hire an entire new press team. (His all quit, they couldn’t handle working with Oliver’s press people.) But at least they did team bonding, right?

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porcelainseashore · 4 months ago

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His Last Miracle - Qadir al-Asmai x Reader

Commissioned art by @medeaft

Author's Note: My gift to @vampemoqueen as part of the VtM Secret Santa Writers 2024 event!

Another night, another accidental Embrace. Qadir had seen his share of poor, unfortunate souls like yourself in the thousands. But you were special. You would be his last miracle.

Content Warnings: Loss of agency, violence, implied/referenced abuse, obsession, death.

It was nothing short of a miracle how he got there before a certain Ms. Valerie Duval did, especially when it concerned you. You were fresh out of the bag, a youngling, new as they come. He had pulled your lips back to reveal your baby teeth, like a miniature doll. Fragile as porcelain, he could break you in two with his bare hands in an instant. But Valerie was a Scourge who desired to wipe out the Duskborn of New York City like the Second Coming. She had a flair for sniffing out the likes of you from miles away, and she was relentless.

Not tonight, however. Strange. Perhaps it was fate? he repeated this to the point of believing in it.

You were crouched over in the corner like a frightened animal while he gave the same boring speech prepared for every unsanctioned Embrace since the night he had stepped into the New World. Something about a mortal hobby he followed akin to the Penal Code. Baseball. The Mets. A three-strike system, honed to merciless perfection. He noticed how you listened, your eyes lost in his as you hung on his every word.

“Three strikes and you’re out, whelp,” he warned—or was it a murmur?—approaching you, eyes flashing, dangerous as they were seductive. He wedged you between his body and the plastered wall, palms pressed flat on either side of your head. “Do you understand?”

Tapping his foot impatiently, he saw your gaze drop to his lips and your breath quicken, matching the pace of his heartbeat if he had one. No, that wasn’t right. You were merely one of the many thousands he came across most nights in all his years of service, just a trifling and insignificant variation of the previous encounter. You weren’t—

“Yes, sir.”

A prey that submitted willingly. You didn’t even need to be told. His mouth lit up in a cruel smirk. “Very good, young one.”

He could have killed you on the spot, played God and passed swift judgment like any other fool parading around as the so-called Sheriff, but he did not. Prince Panhard always favored formalities, especially when there was a Thin-blood Primogen she could rub it in the face of. At least that was what he told himself as he ferried you back to the Art Hole.

On the way, you had asked for his name and he divulged it to you like a sworn secret through the rearview mirror. “Qadir,” he replied, his voice monotone. “That’s all you need to know.”

The rest of the ride took place in silence.

At your hearing, he observed you intently while you were met with disgust and disinterest by the other Kindred. It seemed as if you didn’t care what the Prince had to say as you stared back at him, hands twitching and biting your lip. He recognized the signs for what they were, after all, it wasn’t the first time a captive had taken a fancy to him. Regardless of his severity, he was as stereotypical as the Clan of the Rose brought forth. He plied himself with fashionable suits and expensive Swiss watches, groomed his locks and beard religiously each night, disguised like a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

It was a sham. He was a sham. It mesmerized him how alive you felt, your blushing heat. If not for the tip-off, he believed he would never have known you were one of them—almost. When the verdict of “Final Death” was raised, something innate possessed him to fabricate the story he narrated before the Prince to delay your sentencing for just a bit longer. Was it the remaining scraps of what he so desperately tried to salvage as human?

Mercy.

The Prince raised an eyebrow.

Mercy.

Although he would never admit it, he could not bear to see you perish that night. You were a miracle. You were his miracle. His salvation and hope. You reminded him of Qadir al-Asmai of Lucknow, not Qadir the Sheriff of New York. He brought you to the cell where you would spend the night, and the next, and the next, as long as you didn’t outlive your usefulness. A usefulness which he had invented and even the Council had fallen for.

He remembered how you had cried upon hearing what he had done. Such is the wonder of human emotion, he thought. Soon, he will learn to cry too. The scene replayed itself like a continuous loop in his mind and he wished it would never end.

And so it began. When he checked on you the next evening, he found you on all fours, before lying prostrate on the dirt ground, as if praying to some unknown god.

“What is the meaning of this?” he questioned, more curious than irritated.

You glanced up at him with those pitiful, naive eyes, like a dog waiting for its owner and he felt something he had not felt for a very long time—a sense of joy. He provided you with fresh blood, which you lapped from his hands hungrily, and wiped the tears away from your grimy face.

“Thank you, sir.”

You were so polite, so precious; he promised to take care of you, on condition that you would do as you were told. Naturally, you agreed, eager as a pup to please. He pretended to coax information out of you on a recent case he was investigating in exchange for blood. It was all for show, a stunt to appease his superiors. Just the way the Camarilla liked it, and just the way his colonizers liked it back then too. But this thing you had with him… it was real, wasn’t it? You were teaching him to love again, beyond the blood-splattered tiles and mangled bones. He was falling for you just as you were falling for him.

Then, one night, you refused. He couldn’t fathom why, what caused the sudden change of heart. You stopped drinking the blood he offered, spat it in his face when he tried to feed you, starving yourself on purpose.

“Don’t test my patience, whelp,” he growled, holding the base of your neck between his hands as he stroked a pointed nail along its length. You shivered and went limp. He gave a ghastly smile. “Good girl.”

However, it was only a temporary respite. He knew what was best for you—why wouldn’t you listen? You left him no choice, but to do what he had to do next. He plunged his teeth into you, his bite lingering as he tasted the sickness of your saccharine blood. Your eyes shut placidly like a serene angel, arms folding around him as he led you in a slow dance around the derelict room. When you came to, he was sure that you would love him even more than you did before.

“Drink,” he ordered. “Or you will never receive my Kiss again.”

Despite your withdrawal, you staunchly held your ground. His jaw tensed. Had he not been kind and merciful to your plight? Wasn’t this how one should love? But love was a distant memory; he had forgotten whether he had ever felt it at all. There were still hours to go before the break of dawn, but he left in a hurry, as if something had finally unnerved him, and did not return until several nights after.

By then, you were nearly catatonic. A thin film of milky white cast over your eyes. As you lay in his arms, he asked you quietly, “Tell me, what is it you want?”

He wanted you to pick him. To stop time and make him human again. But that answer never came. Just two simple words uttered from your dry, cracked lips, “Final Death.”

In a moment of clarity, he saw through the lies he told to everyone and to himself. The tears in your eyes had never been about gratitude for prolonging your life, they were pleading with him to extinguish it. He had treated you like an enslaved animal, attempting to bind you to his blood and will. Instead of the soft caresses he imagined, he had wrung your neck and forced your hand unto obedience, into submission. There was no love, only suffering and pain.

The grip on his sword tightened. Perhaps he was condemned to live out the rest of his undead days in a state of limbo, waiting for the inevitable, spectacular end, where his humanity would be so whittled down that he becomes a mindless wight. To grant your wish and lose you would be to damn his soul, but perhaps this was his greatest act of mercy yet. And that was a miracle in itself.

With a single swift stroke, his sword was unsheathed—elegant, ruthless, and compassionate. Your head slid off your body onto the floor. He took it gently in his hands, kissed your still warm lips for the very last time, etching every sensation to memory. Then, he let go, leaving your decomposing corpse in his wake.

Dividers by @diableriedoll

#vtm secret santa writers 2024 #qadir al-asmai #qadir al asmai #qadir x reader #toreador #coteries of new york #shadows of new york #vtm cony #vtm sony #vtm #vampire the masquerade #world of darkness #my vtm writing #porcelainscribbles

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bridgetotheskyyy · 2 years ago

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Show Off - Utahime

Kinktober Masterlist

Warnings: 18+, mirror sex, reader's a bit of a bimbo, utahime is more dominant, lingerie

A/n: Day 12: Lingerie! I'm fighting for my fucking life guys trying to catch up to kinktober

Word count: 2.0k

Read on Ao3

Utahime lifted her gaze up at the miniature store sign above the changing room doors. Stockings!!! And in a cotton-candy neon pink stinging her eyes the longer she held her glare. She sighed.

This was the last place she wanted to be on her off day: Huddled up in the stuffy changing room area of a swanky clothing store, the humidity sticking clothes to her skin.

But you had insisted (and when had she ever been able to say no to you?), Shoko and Mei Mei voting on the trip as well. It had been unanimous. Utahime had felt particularly betrayed by Shoko. Traitor.

Utahime switched her glare to her phone, the blue-light glare aiding the imminent headache creeping to life. Another sigh.

Of course, there was another reason she didn’t want to be here. Seeing you in tight lingerie was not going to be good for her.

Shoko knew that.

Girls a decade younger giggled as they passed by with their chosen garments packed in designer paper bags. Utahime’s head thudded into the wall.

“How much longer are you guys gonna be?” she whined, fanning herself.

“It won’t be long!” You assured.

“Just a few minutes longer.” Mei Mei’s dulcet tones flitted through the changing room door.

Utahime snorted to herself. “We all know you’re not going to buy anything.”

Mei peeked out the door, eyes perennially sparkling with ill-intent. “Who said anything about buying?”

Utahime rolled her eyes as You and Shoko cackled offscreen.

“I found something I like.” That was Shoko. “Having a little trouble with the strap, though —“

Utahime struggled to imagine Shoko being sexy for anybody. But, she supposed, a woman could be sexy for herself. She couldn’t help but ask. “You’re trying on lingerie? What’s the occasion?”

“Why does there have to be an occasion, Uta? Maybe she just wants to look snatched.” Mei Mei echoed her unspoken sentiments.

“In fact, now that we’re on the subject,” Shoko began, “I am seeing a little man on the side.”

You gasped, followed by a harsh zipper sound. “Shoko! You never said!” You sighed wistfully. “Everybody’s got a boo these days.”

Shoko poked her head out this time, smirked at Utahime.

Utahime glared as Shoko giggled and retreated into the changing room.

“Done!” You said.

Anxiety married anticipation in Utahime, whirled her stomach as changing room locks came undone.

Shoko was first, fully dressed again in sweater and jeans — and of course never without a cigarette. “It’s just a bra and I’m buying it,” she said when Utahime gave her a crooked look. “They should let me wear it out if I show them the tag.”

Mei Mei was next, twirling in her new ebony-black corset. “Oh, my paypigs are gonna love this,” she said with a giggle.

Shoko laughed as Mei Mei felt the lacy fabric. Your door opened unceremoniously, jumpscaring the three of them.

Utahime stared wide-eyed and speechless as you presented yourself as though on the runway; it was a matching lacy bra and panties. The cups hugged your breasts in delicious black silk, and lace tickled up your sweet thighs from the stockings. You giggled as Shoko and Mei Mei cooed their approval.

Utahime’s mouth ran dry.

“Do you like it?” You asked her, turning to flash your ass. “Does it look like it fits?”

Utahime swallowed nothing. She composed herself when she felt Shoko smirking, adjusting her baseball cap to conceal a blush she knew was there.

“It’s — it’s nice,” she told you. “And very pretty on you.”

Your blush tore at Utahime’s heart. “Awww, thanks, Uta!”

“Let’s check out.” Mei Mei walked from the changing room, the clothes she had arrived with presumably in her bag. “That is, if you ladies are happy with everything?”

“You’re going like that?” Utahime deadpanned.

“Why, of course!” Mei Mei said, giving another twirl. “Maybe I’ll pick another pig or two on the way home?”

Mei Mei sashayed out of the changing rooms.

“Oh, I’m not,” You said, still blushing. You retreated into the changing room and closed the door. “Gotta get this home in one piece, after all! I would have to rip it!”

Shoko sauntered toward Utahime and gave her a wink.

“Take your time,” she murmured before following Mei Mei.

Utahime gave her third sigh of the afternoon and reached down for her bag.

“Ah!”

Utahime lifted her gaze to your door. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah, it’s just — ah, this hook, it’s so stubborn.” Your elbow must have knocked against one of the walls; there was a thump, then another. “Ah, I can’t get it. Uta, d’you think you could come in and help me?”

Utahime’s handbag fell from her hands. “Uh … Y— Yes, sorry, uh, just a second!”

Utahime’s hand quivered over the door; it wasn’t locked. She walked in on trembling legs.

Your back was turned to her, facing the full-body mirror, gaze lowered as you focused on the strap buckle. You groaned after another failed attempt to unhook it.

“You know what, maybe I won’t buy it,” You quipped with a nervous laugh. You glanced in the mirror at Utahime, almost for approval. That was funny, right?

Utahime laughed as she approached, wiping sweaty hands on her jeans. “It’d be a shame; it looks really pretty on you.”

You met Utahime’s gaze in the mirror. She cleared her throat. Slowly, you turned to her. A few seconds of silence as you smiled up at her.

“What’s the point of sexy lingerie if you can’t get out of it?” You said — purred.

Utahime blinked. Had she — had she heard you correctly?

You stepped toward her. “Help me get out of this, Uta?” You batted imploring eyelashes. “Please?”

Utahime’s lips parted as you came forward to plant yours against her jaw. Utahime flinched, froze, her heart drumming in her ears as you kissed down the outline of her jaw to her neck.

“(Y/n) —!”

She had let you back her into the wall opposite the mirror. Utahime tried to grasp you to stop you — it was a bad idea; everywhere she touched was naked skin or skin housed in lace. You were soft to the touch everywhere.

“Mmm … Yes?”

“What are you doing?” Panic sprang in Utahime’s voice.

“Mmm …” You raised your head to meet her eye. “Kissing you, silly. What do you think?”

“No,” Utahime moaned. She fixed her hands to your hips as you continued smooching her neck. “Stop. You’re — you’re drunk.”

You faced her again, a soft glare there. “I’m not drunk.” Your hand snaked down her thigh, coming to caress her clothed sex. “I’ve never been more sober, or conscious, of what I’m doing.”

Utahime shivered. She bit her lip as you massaged her cunt through her jeans. Your breasts crushed against hers as you kissed her full on the mouth. Utahime parted her lips in shock, inadvertently inviting your tongue to rub against hers. You bucked against her as you explored her mouth. The friction —

Utahime felt a damn break; she flipped, flattened you against the wall. She broke the kiss, looked down at you.

“Fine then,” she said. “If this is what you want …!”

Her hand slipped past your silk panties, not yet paid for, and played with your moist slit.

“A—ahah …!” You threw your head back as Utahime slipped fingers into the slit of your cunt. “N — No fair, I think you — hah — should get out of your clothes, too …”

Utahime swept two fingers against your clit, relished your startled moan. She nestled toward your ear. “You’re in no place to make demands.” She yanked your panties down and continued her work on you, fiddling with your clit as you gasped. “Dragging me to this place to watch you prance around like a little slut. You know this set is too small for you, and yet you still …”

She scissored her fingers and squeezed them between your clit, jerking it off as she kissed at the shell of your ear.

“Aah! Ha— aha!”

“Pipe down,” Utahime ordered, fondling one of your tits. “You want the whole store to hear you?”

Her hand, so occupied with your tit, wandered behind you and, with only one hand unhooked your bra. It fell away to your waist before Utahime threw it to the floor.

You stared, half-naked and breathless, face brushed with red. “How … can I make it up to you?”

Utahime licked her lips — until she realized she could lick you and brought her fingers from your cunt to suck on. She paused in thought before glancing to the mirror.

“Take those off.” She motioned toward the panties. “Then sit by the mirror.”

You did as instructed, leaving the stockings on. You strolled to the mirror and sat.

“Spread your legs,” Utahime said.

You did so. Utahime knelt by your, steadied on her knees. She brought one hand to cup and play with your neglected breast while the other snaked down the plane of your stomach to your cunt.

“Look at yourself.” She spread your lips, the slick pooled like a honeypot for you to witness. “So you wanted this? To let me see your slutty clothes?”

You whined as Utahime flicked at your lobe, circled your clit with her fingers.

“Y—Yes!”

“You’re worse than Mei Mei.” Utahime slapped your cunt and you flinched from the sting. “Face the mirror. When I take you home tonight, you’re going to undress me and get me off.”

Utahime sunk her fingers into your slick entrance. She pinched and toyed with your nipple as you squirmed in her care. As ordered, your eyes remained fixed to the mirror.

“You’re going to eat me out and suck on my clit.” Utahime paused as you cried out; she’d found the rough skin of your g-spot while her thumb flicked at your clit. “That’s how you’re going to make it up to me, understand?”

You arched in her hold as she teased you with a potential orgasm. You nodded frantically. “Yes, yes! Oh, god, I want that so much!”

Utahime kissed and sucked at your neck, adding a third finger at last to your torment. You sucked her fingers in with fervor. She thumbed harder at your clit, her other hand forcing one of your tits up to suck at its nipple.

You trembled as her tongue swirled around your bud, the pace of her fingers impossible to keep up with.

“I’m gonna — aha —!”

Utahime withdrew her fingers.

You gasped. “No! No!”

She caressed your face, slick with your wetness, and forced you to look at her from over your shoulder.

“I’ve loved you for so long,” she said. “I want you to look at me when you cum, all right?”

You nodded, eyes dreamy. You trembled with anticipation as she snaked her hand back down to your needy cunt and submerged her fingers in again.

You captured Utahime’s lips, kissing and licking her tongue as her fingers worked your insides and clit.

A string of saliva bridged your lips and hers as you parted, eyes widening with the coming climax.

“Cum for me,” Utahime urged. “Mhm, c’mon, you can do it, cum, cum —“

Utahime cupped your mouth in time to stifle your scream. You clenched around her fingers, but she kept massaging that perfect spot inside you. You fell backward, into bliss and into her as she rode you through your orgasm.

Utahime watched you fall apart in the mirror. She couldn’t have dreamed of a prettier sight. “That’s a good girl, finally doing what you’re told.”

You came down from your high. You stared up at her dreamily. Utahime withdrew her fingers again, licking away your orgasm from her pruney fingers.

“Did you know I had feelings for you?” Utahime asked as you came down.

Your eyes glittered. “No — I hoped you did! Oh no!” You looked to your drenched stockings, then to the bra and panties strewn over. “I didn’t pay for those!”

“Don’t worry.” Utahime said. “I’ll buy them for you. I want to see you in them again.”

#utahime x reader #jjk smut #utahime smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #utahime iori x reader

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north-noire · 1 year ago

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do you have some headcanons about henry and charlie in your au you can share? :3

Hello hello, anon! Thanks for the ask! Sorry that this took so long! Okay, first things first: Yes, they're both neurodivergent/autistic. While they're both unaware of that fact (because let's be real, the 1980s time period wasn't as aware of that kind of thing as we do now), they both do kinda understand that they both have their little routine everyday and sometimes they both need some time to themselves. It's that little mutual silence they have with each other when they both work together on their own thing. They both also don't like crowds, but they've just learned to deal with it. And of course, they both love learning about each other's interests and tend to help each other with them! More headcanons under the cut + bonus for Puppet-Charlie and Henry stuff!

Some more headcanons around 1983-era:

Henry and Charlie both love tinkering with their interests - Henry tinkers with robots and inventions and gadgets and whatnot, while Charlie tends to tinker with her old toys and usually modifies them to her liking.

Henry was a former toymaker that worked in a relatively modest toy company before he had agreed to partner with William's business venture, so he'd sometimes make her toys when she was younger. Charlie also grew up with some stopmotion movies and shows that she'd loved, so when Henry gave her a camera on one of her birthdays, she would make stopmotion animations using the toys he gives her and sometimes modifies the toys to be more flexible, or to change their appearance for the stopmotion animation. Charlie also becomes interested in things like puppeteering and miniature sculpting.

They both love drawing! Henry's art has more boxy and mechanical concepts and the like because of his work and just mostly drafting stuff (sometimes he draws people, usually doesn't end up liking them), while Charlie just draw concepts for her little puppets/miniatures, similarly mechanical like her father's, and has a hard time drawing people.

Henry starts to cook more after his wife's late passing for the sake of Charlie, since Charlie tended to miss her mom's cooking. He tries his best. Charlie usually helps him!

Henry makes sure to attend Charlie's baseball games.

They definitely had went to Disneyland at least once, courtesy of William. They both had a grand old time there!

Charlie's flannel shirt was a hand-me-down from Henry's! She loves matching with her father, so she adopted it for herself. Whenever Henry sketches/works on the animatronics, Charlie just sits down and watches her father work/draw. Henry doesn't mind, and usually asks about a few ideas or concepts he has and asks Charlie if it's interesting.

BONUS: Post 1987 Puppet-Charlie and Henry stuff!

Henry learns to sew more clothing to reuse Charlie's old clothes so Puppet-Charlie could get to wear some of her past outfits if she wanted to. Thrift stores and garage sales are their best friends!

Puppet-Charlie sometimes constricts herself around her father. She's clingy, but Henry doesn't mind at all.

Puppet-Charlie doesn't really need to sleep, so if Henry falls asleep or needs to sleep, she watches over him.

Henry and Puppet-Charlie used to hate long drives. Now they've learned to love it.

Rainy days on the other hand... it's complicated.

Eating "together" was pretty hard for them at first (since Henry is the only one eating), but after some time, they eventually gotten used to it.

Puppet-Charlie had attempted to drive, and she's still learning with Henry's guidance! Henry is just scared because Puppet-Charlie tended to always miss the stop-lights/signs.

Henry retro-fitted an actual jack-in-the-box music box so that Puppet-Charlie can listen to it whenever she wants.

The only times that Puppet-Charlie haven't been weirdly remarked to (by teens and adults anyway, most kids are intrigued/awed by Puppet-Charlie) is Halloween. Both Henry and Puppet-Charlie just kind of deals with it and had gotten used to it. It's not like Henry doesn't get weird remarks either from carrying/walking around with this tall lanky "daughter", so they mostly avoid people unless necessary.

Well, this is how much I can sort of recall at the moment, if I'm revealing more and more, you'll likely find out in more chapters of the fic! If you've made it this far, well, congratulations, and thank you for taking the time to read through ALL this! I hope this answers your question, anon!

#JESUS i'm SO SORRY for the long post #hidden hands au #north-noire asks #henry emily #charlie emily #charlotte emily #fnaf marionette #fnaf the puppet

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user211201 · 11 months ago

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Good Game

---

Originally posted on 2022-06-06 by dumb-and-jocked.

This was a collaboration piece with @rozza22365.

---

“Babe, how did you know exactly what I needed?” Brenden asked, skipping happily along the trail with his boyfriend’s hand in his own.

“I have my ways,” Chaz replied nonchalantly, although it was evident he’d thought about this long and hard. The whole day had gone according to his plan of making Brenden feel as relaxed as possible. After a very stressful promotion process at Brenden’s hair salon, Chaz knew the 22-year-old was going to need a break. He planned a romantic weekend getaway involving time at the beach, a stroll through the local park, and a fancy meal for dinner followed by “dessert”. Chaz was working hard to help his boyfriend take a step back from reality. Brenden just needed to slow down to keep his miniature body from exploding.

And by miniature, Chaz meant the 5’5 skinnier-than-a-flagpole twink hopping beside him like a delicate gazelle. His stick-like figure (along with the platinum-blonde locks gelled up in the front and a pair of beach balls in the back) often made him a target for bullying, including homophobia. Luckily, Chaz was usually enough to scare them off. The recent college-grad was only 5’11, but thanks to his many years on the swim team had developed a modest frame. He’d also gained a comfortability with public speaking and argumentation thanks to his political science degree. Once he got a job, then Chaz believed he would have everything he would need to be happy in life.

“Oh! Honey, look!”

Before Chaz could even follow Brenden’s sight line, his boyfriend was already skidding across the field. Chaz walked comfortably behind, smiling as he noticed how the light breeze blew through Brenden’s salmon-striped tank and ripped white jeans. Chaz thought about catching up, but he didn’t want to run in his cheap sandals. Not only that, but the last thing he wanted to do was rip his khakis and sweat through his casual button-up. It was already pretty warm out, so any extra effort might have strained Chaz’s body in ways that wouldn’t be attractive.

“Yum…” Brenden was basically drooling as Chaz joined him at the top of the hill. About 200 feet away were a group of jocks wrapping up what looked to be a game of baseball. They all appeared to be around the same age as the couple, except each was about double the size of both boyfriends put together. Even from a distance, one could see the jocks’ bulging muscles, shimmering layer of sweat, and (thanks to their lack of shirts) set of washboard abs. And their gym shorts perfectly showcased the numerous perky behinds and overstuffed pouches. With their hats all turned backwards as well, they looked exactly like the stereotypical college jocks.

“No kidding…” Chaz joined in the ogling, watching as they packed up their gear and started heading out. The boyfriends couldn’t stop admiring how the jocks looked, strutted, and acted. Their physical features weren’t the only thing the pair noticed however. The jocks were all engaging in playful gay banter, fake-kissing and bromanticizing with each other. Although it was pretty obvious that all of them were typical arrogant, straight boys pretending to be men, Brenden and Chaz couldn’t help but fantasize about the simplicity of their life.

The couple watched on as the jocks got into two lines facing opposite directions, ready to give each other the classic “Good Game” sendoff. However, instead of giving high-fives, they instead swatted every butt playfully. Brenden and Chaz bit their lip, every jiggle of a straight male’s buttock translating into a tiny pulse of pleasure through their modest boners.

“Did we…” Chaz started. “Did we just get baited?”

“No, at least I don’t think so,” Brenden retorted, taking a breath. “I think that was all natural. Nothing gay about it.”

“No homo,” Chaz imitated in a broish tone, gaining a laugh out of his boyfriend. “Ready to head out, sweetheart?”

“Just a second.” Brenden was still looking down at the field. “I think the boys might’ve left us a present.”

Sitting on home base lay two blue baseball caps. Making sure no one else was watching, Brenden instantly made a run for it. With a small smirk, Chaz followed behind at a quicker stroll. Apparently tonight’s “dessert” was going to involve roleplay.

“Chazzy! How do I look?”

The blue hat sat comfortably on Brenden’s head, the bill shading his cute face from the harsh sun.

“Exactly like them,” Chaz responded sarcastically, placing the other hat on his head.

“Thanks, bro,” Brenden replied in his version of a broish tone before leaning in for a kiss.

“Mmm!” Chaz was surprised to feel his boyfriend’s tongue quickly slide through his mouth. Once they pulled apart, Chaz stopped any further affection, “Darling, let’s roleplay when we get home.”

“But no one’s here,” Brenden whined. “No one will see us. Now, flip your cap around.”

Chaz quickly surrendered, too horny to use any of the argumentation skills he had learned over the years. Rushed, he did one more sweep around the field before following instructions. Brenden flipped his own as well, letting the front of his quiff pour out of the empty hole in the front. Instantly, the pair felt a sharp shock strike through their bodies. They physically lurched in extreme agony for a moment, but seconds later they had already forgotten about the pain.

“So what do you say, babe,” Brenden tried replicating his broish tone again. “Should we…”

Chaz, getting the memo, leaned down for a kiss. He closed his eyes, ready to feel his boyfriend's soft lips touch the bottom of his own. Chaz kept feeling himself get lower and lower, but eventually he became confused as to why he hadn’t reached Brenden yet.

“Dude! Open your eyes!”

Chaz’s eyelids lifted to reveal Brenden’s crotch right in his face.

“Ah ew babe!” Chaz backed away in disgust. “How could you prank me like that?” Brenden however was laughing so hard that Chaz could see each one of his skinny abs rippling on his lanky body. The 6’5 beanpole was cackling up a storm.

“Gotcha!”

“I didn’t even realize I had leaned in so far,” Chaz joined in with Brenden’s jovial nature. At 6’4, he must’ve bent almost straight down in order to get to his boyfriend’s crotch. “Ok, so can I kiss you now?”

“No bro, we’re still roleplaying.” Chaz noticed how Brenden was getting more in touch with his broish tone, so he decided to follow suit.

“Alright then…broski…what’s next?”

“What’s next babe is a game of gay chicken.” Brenden appeared extremely eager for this. Chaz could tell by the way his boyfriend’s cut-like-steel and shaped-like-diamonds calves bounced excitedly back and forth.

“What’s that?” Chaz replied, positioning his own legs out into a kickstand. Thanks to his khaki shorts, people were also able to see the fine, rugged calves he owned. Similarly cut like Brenden’s, yet just a little tanner and meatier. Although if Chaz ever brought this up, Brenden would just compete by acknowledging how he was slightly taller so his calves were drawn out more.

“It’s simple, bro. It’s where basically two dudes get as close to a kiss while trying not to. The person who kisses first loses.”

Chaz considered this, a little thrown off by the game. The rules seemed simple enough, but why would his boyfriend want to play this? Chaz was so horned up right now that he could just stick his head between Brenden’s two massive thighs. Chaz could just daydream about how if he placed his skull into Brenden’s gym shorts, then his boyfriend would probably be able to break him open like a ripe watermelon. Their chunky, meaty size was almost tangible, but unfortunately that’s not the game his boyfriend wanted to play right now. Chaz instead reminded himself that it could happen tonight for dessert.

“Ok, I’m in,” Chan announced, suddenly enthused over the prospect of a challenge. He clapped his own thighs together in anticipation, sending ripples across his soft and muscular quads. Just like his boyfriend’s, they too filled his own gym shorts nicely, looking like candy with a tight wrapper.

“Sweet dude! Since I brought the game up I have to go first.” Although Brender had seemed excited, Chan noted the new tone in his voice. The use of “have'' accented a new emotion laced into his boyfriend’s words: fear. The emotion was also evident in the way Brender’s torso was super tense. The man’s abs were extremely hard, flexed to their max capacity. His tender pecs were solid while his silver-dollar nipples were rock hard. Even the man’s delts displayed apprehension, hiding away from their true larger-than-life wingspan.

Slowly but surely, Brender slowly reclined forward. To make sure he didn’t get too close and lose in the first round, he placed a porcelain hand against Chan’s carved chest. He subtly felt up his boyfriend’s 6-pack, noting how each one felt like a stone plucked straight from the earth. Brender’s finger ran up the valley into the upper torso, giving each of the mounds of flesh Chan called pectorals a cheeky squeeze. He also made sure to give a little flick to one of Chan’s nipples, which truly looked more like an udder than something meant for nothing.

Brendor got close, but he paused at about 6 inches. “Gonna be hard for you to beat that!”

“Pfft, sure bro.” Chant was pretty confident this wouldn’t be as difficult as his boyfriend had made it look. Chant took a similarly sluggish speed that Brendor had, making sure to move forward at a cautious pace. To assure he didn’t fall forward, Chant grabbed his boyfriend’s massive arms. Brendor’s forearms were so long and sturdy with veins accentuating their muscular mass. His biceps were so firm and his triceps had a similar amount of vigor. Even the other man’s hands were gigantic, looking big and solid enough to catch a baseball without the mitt.

Getting to the 6-inch mark that Brendor had made it to, Chant slowed down his pace even more. He felt his own brawny appendages become strained, his own veins snaking across robust arms. Similarly to Brendor, Chant’s biceps stood as two proud mounds atop his tanned flesh. His triceps had a identical mass, and his forearms displayed a strength that had been built up over years of hard work. His heavily-calloused, giant hands only furthered the argument by looking more fit for a package of Hamburger Helper than a human being. Right as he passed Brendor’s previous attempt, Chant gave an obnoxious set of kissy lips before taking a step back.

“Almost had me there bro,” Brenor replied in a tone that was deep, masculine, and empty.

“Huhuhuh, you wish dude.” Chent couldn’t help but guffaw, his voice an almost identical replica. Absentmindedly adjusting his rope wristband, Chent felt a rush of adrenaline race through him as he said, “Ball’s in your court.”

Brenor gave a quick nod, his bulging Adam’s apple shaking in agreement. Bending his tremendous upper traps, Brenor approached Chent’s face once again. While watching his boyfriend dip closer, Chent took his time studying every part of the other man’s face. A square jaw loosened gently with some baby fat that made him look extra adorable. Eyebrows bushy but his brown hair was at a crew cut length beneath the cap. Big nose to circulate air while working out and fading eye black to advertise that there wasn’t much behind those dull brown eyes.

Reaching in on Chent’s last milestone, Brenor carefully cupped one of his gargantuan hands against his boyfriend’s face to steady himself. He loved how it perfectly fit against the other man’s carved jaw, the way it caressed the other man’s Neatherandthal-like bone structure. He couldn’t stop himself from analyzing Chent’s crooked nose after being broken from a previous game, or the way that his blond crew cut matched his light eyebrows. Even Chent’s lackluster eyes had a certain shine to them. He wasn’t hypnotized by the looks however, he was just purely appreciating aesthetics. And with that realization, Brenor pulled away gleefully.

“Let’s go bro!” Brevor cheered, stomping his Size 15 blue Nike’s hard on the ground.

“I thought I was just about to win there, babe.” Crent playfully kicked Brevor’s shin with a Size 14 black Adidas, not noticing how the term of endearment had come out more like an insult. Noting his socks had fallen down a little, he faithfully bent down to pull them up before continuing.

“You still have time to surrender,” Crent sniggered.

“Nah bro, you’re about to fade!” Brevor may have been right, that last stretch was getting close. But that didn’t mean Crent was going to give up! Confidently, he grabbed his boyfriends behind and pulled him in. Crent may have been focusing on his game of gay chicken, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t allowed to feel up his bro’s ample bottom on the side. And wow, was he glad he did. It was thick and tough. Soft, yet too muscular to derive any pleasure from. Sneakily, Crent shoved a finger into Brevor’s butthole, finding it was way too tight to be welcoming.

“Hey!” Brevor yelped.

“Sorry, brohama,” Crent purred. “I’m just luring you in.”

“The point of the game isn’t to turn me on, dude,” Brevor sneered. “That’s a different game of gay chicken.”

“I just gotta get comfortable, bro. Just doin’ the same thing to you I do to a…”

Crent stopped himself, unsure of what word was supposed to finish that sentence. Instead of dwelling on it however, he continued. With one hand still on the butt, Crent slowly explored the rest of Brevor’s midsection. He found a pair of heavy kumquats hiding in the man’s shorts, so large they were probably painful to contain in clothing. Above those was his boyfriend’s babymaker, a soft 7 inch sausage stuffed not so subtly. Right as Crent passed Brevor’s previous point, mere centimeters away from the lips, Crent gave the other man’s dick a quick squeeze and backed off.

“Is somebro feeling a little frisky?” Brevor remarked.

“We’ll see when you kiss me,” Crent antagonized back. Not being one to back down, Brevor stuck his hand right into Crent’s shorts. Finding the soft 7 inch joystick, he pulled the other man so close that he could feel Crent’s balls rub against his. Even though they were separated by layers of fabric, Brevor was able to feel their succulent, robust nature. After giving the pouch a good squeeze, Brevor found that Crent’s buttocks shared the same descriptive adjectives. Succulent and robust, but also tense.

“What…what are you doing…bro?” Crent murmured, finding Brevor’s actions were a little less playful than his own.

“I’m losing.”

And with that, Brevor pushed himself into Crent’s lips. At first it was only Brevor kissing, but Crent got the memo and quickly began reciprocating. It wasn’t very long and it wasn’t involving tongues, but it was a kiss nonetheless. Both of the men felt odd and weird about the kiss, but part of them felt good about it too.

Immediately, the two men felt their dicks get hard followed by a constantly-looming need to touch them. Being preoccupied by their strange kiss however, they could only think of one way to resolve their issue: grinding. The two bros instantly started humping each other, as if the same, horny thought process was guiding their decisions. But with each rub against the other body, their attraction and horniness faded, becoming nothing more but amusement towards each other. The thought of actually liking each other felt pretty gay. And the more the two bros shared their gaze while kissing and humping, the less desire they felt. Instead, they discovered a great friendship and comradery towards each other.

The fading of attraction towards was closely followed by their homosexuality as a whole. Even though they were physically with their bro, they were mentally dreaming about boobs and tight pussy. Their homosexualities weren’t the only things disappearing however, as their IQ had been steadily dropping during their entire process of “appreciation of the male form”. Their minds began restructuring, new memories settling in and piecing together their new lives.

Flashes of sports, porn, and endless sex. Bad grades and rich parents, privileged backgrounds and dull futures. Lots of banter with the bros, even a bit of gay banter. Obviously, they sucked and jerked their bros off every now and then but that wasn't gay–just dude stuff. Sometimes they even destroyed nerds’ holes in order to make them do their homework, but as long as they topped it wasn’t gay. And a simple “no homo” always cleared things up though.

Laughing more as they humped, the two men (if they could really be called that) began thinking of this more as a stupid game. With so many memories of banging and impregnating countless cheerleaders and sorority chicks over the years, the thought of being gay seemed like a foreign concept. Just the idea of motorboating or ramming their cocks and seeding some bimbo made the two jocks want to-

“OH BRO!” they both shouted in unison as giant blasts of cum soaked the front of their shorts. With IQs under 90, the pair began showcasing the best of male intellect by jokingly rubbing their wet fronts against each other.

“You’re such a fag, bro!” Trent guffawed. “I knew I was gonna win.”

“Oh whatever dude,” Trevor huffed. “I wasn’t the fairy who was enjoying it.”

They both continued bantering with each other before realizing the rest of their crew had already gone back to the frat house. Accepting defeat for now, Trevor smirked and gave Trent a playful spank.

“Good game, bro,” Trevor ceded. “But I’ll getcha next time.” Trent chuckled dully before giving a smack back to Trevor’s behind.

“Sure, broski. Good game.”

#gay to straight #dumber #nerdtojock #fratification #bottomtotop #age regression tf #unintendedresults

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