#them tall boys in a pile yes

[azsazz]

Midnight Muse

Azriel x Reader [Art School AU]

Summary: You and your best friend Feyre have just moved into a new apartment for your sophomore year of college at art school. What you didn't know when you signed the lease is that you'd be living next to three rowdy boys.

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 1,804

Notes: This is going to be a good one you guys 💙 (yes I know I have a fic titled this already but it’s too good not to reuse, they’re not related btw)

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“I think that’s the last one,” you sigh, setting down a cardboard box labeled Living Room on the stack in the middle of the floor. It’s not heavy—filled with decorative pillows for the cheap futon couch shoved haphazardly against the wall—but the tower of boxes sways precariously and your roommate, Feyre, darts forward to reorganize them from before they all go tumbling down.

You and your roommate had been very organized at the start of your move, putting boxes into piles for which rooms they belonged to, but as the hot sun beamed down and the temperature outside rose, so did your tempers. The process ended with trying to get everything into your new fourth floor apartment as quickly as possible, which was a nearly impossible feat, due to the slow moving elevator.

Feyre sighs, hands on her hips as she surveys the mess of boxes. Neither of you packed lightly—a mistake you’d made the year previous too, and promised not to make again—the both of you refused to hire a moving service, intent on the fact that you could do all the heavy lifting yourselves. 

That definitely had been a mistake.

Panting a little, Feyre shoves the strands of gold-brown hairs clinging to her forehead away, sticky with sweat. The hairs at her nape curl away from her neck, and you’re so glad that she grew out those awful bangs over the summer. Now you don’t have to listen to her complain about how they’d be plastered to her head with sweat. The loose collar of her cropped shirt is damp, and she uses the hem to wipe at the perspiration beading at her hairline. “Fucking finally,” she moans, “I need a drink.”

“Alcoholic or energy?” you tease, but it’s not funny. You’re drained, and all you want to do is collapse on the navy futon that barely fits two, no matter how uncomfortable it is. But you’re hot, clothes irritating your skin from where they’re glued with sweat and your arms and legs burn with effort. A cold shower, tall glass of something icy, and a few hours napping will do you well. A grimace works its way onto your red face, “Tell me there’s air conditioning in this place.”

“Already on,” Feyre sighs, stalking into the kitchen. You follow after her, dodging boxes, and watch as she rips open the refrigerator door and shoves her head inside. It’s completely empty and you wince, knowing that it’s going to be a long weekend while you go shopping and unpack everything before the fall semester starts in a week.

You want to stop by the local art supply too, to gather the last of the material you need for your classes this year. It’s probably why you and Feyre have so many boxes; half of the ones adorning your apartment are stuffed with art supplies: brushes and paints of all varieties from oils to acrylics, graphite pencils and kneaded erasers, canvases both blank and filled. You swear there’s even an entire box dedicated to sketchbooks filled with random doodles and scribbled ideas for assignments that never turned into anything great. Feyre hadn’t been happy when she’d seen you’d left that box for her to carry up.

When Feyre’s had her fill of the crisp air, she hands you a bottle of water from the freezer. It’s nowhere near as cold as you’d like it yet. You’d run into the gas station to get a few bottles and candy bars while she filled up the tank of the U-Haul for your last stretch or the drive. It hadn’t occurred to either of you to grab something with more sustenance until this very moment.

“Ugh,” you groan, choking down the room-temperature water. It helps a little to soothe your parched throat, but nowhere near enough. “Do you have any money left in your account? We should Door Dash something for dinner, and call it an early night.”

“An early night?” Feyre retorts, making a face as she takes a sip of her own water. “We have a lot of unpacking to do. And our beds aren’t even set up yet.” 

“Fuck us,” you sigh, leaning against the marble. The stone is cool where it seeps through your thin shirt, and you ache to rip off your clothing and press your burning skin to it in an attempt to cool yourself off. “Let’s just find the boxes with the pillows and blankets and sleep in the living room, Fey. C’mon, it’ll be like when we were young again! Except now we’re old enough to buy alcohol.” You waggle your eyebrows at your roommate and she cracks a wry grin. “Well, almost old enough, but those fake ID’s Tarquin got us work like a charm anyway.”

“Fine,” Feyre relents, “Dibs on first shower, though.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•

While Feyre uses all of the hot water, despite it being nearly ninety degrees outside—blasphemous for the end of August in the middle of Southern California—you take the chance to move the U-Haul from where you’d double-parked it outside of your new apartment building. Thankfully, you and Feyre had saved up enough money from working at an Art Camp for children this summer to have both of your cars shipped to school. It was cheaper to rent a truck and move all of your belongings yourselves than to drive down and let a moving company do it, plus, you and Feyre had wanted to road trip this summer but didn’t have the funds. You both had decided there was no better time for it—until you could properly afford one—than this.

You scroll aimlessly through your social media on the way down, the elevator so slow and creaky that you and Feyre opted to take the stairs for most of your journey. Bigger things like your beds, the futon, and the tv had been squashed into the tiny elevator and taken up with prayers it wouldn’t break down. You can’t help but glance up at the certificate that says the elevator is in running order until its next inspection in two years. 

“Is that forged, George Brown?” you mutter, squinting at the paper displayed in the corner. It’s frayed at the edges and yellowing, so you’re not all that sure this elevator has been inspected when it says it has.

It comes to a jerky halt that makes you sway when it hits the lobby. It’s as nice a building as you can afford on your budget, but the both of you will have to find part-time jobs as soon as school starts up, so that you have money to buy alcohol and food and supplies. Feyre’s older sister, Nesta, had lived here with her friends Gwyn and Emerie during their undergrad years, but they’ve moved on from shitty apartment buildings riddled with horny college students to renting a quaint house in town while working on their masters degrees.

When the doors to the elevator slide open you slip out as fast as possible, a shudder working its way up your spine. You wonder how many times it’s broken down, and you’d hate to be in there alone if something like that happened. Maybe you’ll take the stairs from now on unless you’re with someone.

The lobby of the building is small. There’s a front desk in which no one ever sits, as if the building used to be sophisticated once upon a time and a doorman used to occupy the space. Mailboxes pinned to the wall line the area behind the counter, and there sits a garbage can stuffed full with envelopes and more likely than not empty bottles of alcohol and take-away, maybe even a used condom or two.

It’s muggy down here, more so than your apartment that the landlord hadn’t turned on the air conditioning when he knew you’d be showing up today. Whatever, you hadn’t had to see the greasy man, he’d left the keys on the counter for you and Feyre to find when you’d arrived, and you were more than thankful for that.

You brush away some of the hairs that have come loose from your ponytail as you cross the lobby. The hazards of the U-Haul are blinking at a steady rate, the skies turning darker with the looming night. It had taken you and Feyre all day to unpack the truck, and you’re returning it tomorrow when your cars come in, so you need to move it to a normal spot for the night. 

Pushing open the door, your steps falter as someone brushes past you like a shadow, nearly hitting your shoulder with theirs. Your brows furrow and you turn to toss a comment about how rude they are but the words dry up in your throat. 

He’s tugging off a motorcycle helmet and you can’t help but watch the way his biceps bulge against his skin tight black t-shirt. The muscles of his broad back glide like butter beneath the fabric as he moves and you can’t help but let your gaze travel down his spine to his tight waist, dipping into dark jeans.

His thick soled boots thump loudly as he stalks through the door, stopping at the mailboxes to check if he has any letters. The tiny door opens with a squeak that has you snapping back into your body, stunned by his musculature. This man is a god of his own league. A masterpiece of perfectly crafted body parts and tones. He has an angular nose and long, dark lashes matching his disheveled hair. He runs his fingers through it and shoves the helmet under his armpit as he digs through his mailbox. Your fingers twitch to dig out your sketchbook and pencils from the box upstairs.

You force your gaze outside again, cheeks red hot with embarrassment. You were straight up ogling the man, and thankfully you’re not drooling, as you take notice while you wet your suddenly dry lips. 

You click the keys, unlocking the U-Haul, but stop short when you see that the truck is caged in, a big vintage Bronco parked behind, and a shiny motorcycle that looks like it moves faster than the speed of light wedged between the moving truck and the vehicle in front.

“Hey,” you call, ripping the door back open to the lobby. You have no doubt that the motorcycle is his, and the car behind had been there when you and Feyre had arrived this afternoon, so you don’t know whom it belongs to. “Is this your motorcycle?” 

The man is already on his way to the elevator, phone stable in his leather riding gloves as he swipes, envelopes tucked into his helmet. The elevator door screeches open and he doesn’t even bother to turn around and meet your gaze as he punches the button to his floor. “Nope.”

#azriel au #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #art school au #acowar #azsazz #acotar #acomaf #azriel #midnight muse #acotar series

[callsign-datura]

konig who eats A TON to maintain his weight x reader who loves to cook for him but hardly eats?? so cutee omg

You Want The Rest?

pairing: konig x reader

You were both sitting at the table in your shared apartment. He wasn't in uniform. He was sitting with a plate in front of him, piled pretty damn high with eggs and bacon. You always made more for your favorite boy because, well, he was a big guy. A tall ass guy with a good bit of muscle and a bit of belly pudge. He always ate a lot to maintain his weight and you knew this; so you did a lot of cooking and packing non-perishable lunches for him while he was off away on a job. He shifted in his seat and scarfed down what you'd made him, and you were picking at your own food as you scrolled aimlessly on your phone.

He chewed the bite he'd just taken, swallowing as his eyes went up to yours and he leaned over to look at what you were looking at on your phone, taking the last bite of his food as his gaze caught a video of a cat you scrolled by. His eyebrows knit together and he reached out with his other hand, scrolling back up with his thumb so he could watch the cat video. You chuckled a little and shifted so you sat beside him instead of across from him, bringing your plate with you and setting your phone down so he could watch while you finally took a bite of your eggs. You watched him as he watched the video of the cat rolling around and eating catnip, his eyes practically sparkling. You chuckled again and put your chin on your hand, your gaze going back to the phone.

"Cat in German is... Katze, right?"

His eyes went up to you and he smiled, nodding a few times. "Yes, yes, very good." His gaze immediately went back to the phone and he kept watching, somewhat mesmerized by the cute kitty. "You gained any weight since you last checked?" You asked, feeling slightly bad for getting his attention again, but you wanted to know if he was making any progress towards his ideal weight.

His gaze flickered around the phone for a few seconds and he answered in a quiet tone. "No... lost weight. 210 last week."

You frowned a little and glanced back at your plate, then you pushed it towards him. "You want the rest of this?" He looked at the plate, then you, and he smiled. "Schatz," He leaned over and kissed your forehead, petting your hair before eating the rest of the food left on your plate. He took your plate and his own, getting up and going to wash them in the sink. You watched him and crossed your arms, turning your phone off. "You want me to make something special for dinner?" He hummed as he washed the plates. "Whatever you want... but can you make more of those protein peanut butter cookies?" He asked, looking back at you and smiling a bit. "Yeah, of course," you answered quickly, smiling all big at him as you put your phone in your pocket and went to his side, kissing his shoulder once and then taking the plates he washed and drying them off before putting them away. Yeah... you'd definitely make those cookies for him.

#konig x reader #konig x you #konig cod #konig mw2 #konig mwii #callsign datura

[silvershiningtarot]

❌♑🍨PAC 18+ How Would A Tarot Reader Describe Your Partners & Y'all Connection✨🌟

Take What Resonate and leave The Rest. You are Responsible for Y’all own decisions. This is just A General Reading. If anyone has A Problem With This Love Reading Or Any Other Love that's out there! Stop your wasting your time and click on something else! All Five Piles.

Paid Readings

Pile 1: A Tarot reader would describe your partner by they would want to impress you by making corny jokes. Just to get your attention. They like your attention. Even if you were talking to someone else, I can see them just dancing foolishly make you laugh. They are dating around just going on dates. I heard “Your Partner likes to have Fun”. But they like to spend time alone by their self. Your Partner got friends that will try to ruin their relationship with other people. So including yours, they will. Your Partner's friends would jeopardize your connection with your Partner so they can be with you. Wack! How Will Your Partner Meet You? They would have to end a lot of cycles with themselves. I heard “Karmic Cycles Needs To End” So your partner would need to end a lot of karma cycles. They need to focus on themselves. Pay attention to their dreams and self-love. A tarot reader would say that “They ain't ready to meet you yet.” Your Partner will curse your ass out whenever you are getting out of line. But they'll apologize at the end though. Because they don't like fighting with you. But that doesn't mean they aren't afraid to speak their mind. They are a Dominant! So they are your Dominant Daddy. I've heard that “That's What They Like To Be Called”. So They would say that you should try to ask your Partner to come down and talk to you. Make their presence known. You make your partner feels safe and they would want to do the same thing for you. I heard “Protective” so they'll want to protect you no matter what. They fucking love your energy. “Your Energy brings me, Joy, 😊”. That's what I heard from them. They are Chain Breakers. Like they love their freedom! Don't like to be trapped in a box or any situation. Some of y'all partners are a veterinary or they love taking care of animals. They are an Animal Daddy. Okay, Your partner is a big guy meaning that they are tall. They love love. Some of y'all partners got out of bad relationships or a bad situationship. This person treated your partner badly. They didn't treat them right. That's why they are chain-breakers. Alright, most of y'all partners are sensitive they don't like to fight with you. So the second you two argue or it gets bad they'll walk away from you before they argue with you. Yes, they are sensitive but again, don't underestimate them. Your Partner will worship you, they don't want your feet touching the ground. I heard them say “ You are A Goddess, your feet shouldn't be touching the ground. If I have to carry you then I will.” They Are Simping For You. You are going to be everything to them. Your partner is a momma's boy 👦🏾 they love their momma. I think some of y'all partners play piano, Guitar, and other instruments. I heard that “They’ll play your favorite song.” So let's just say hypothetically you like the song No One by Alicia Keys they'll play an instrument to the song for you. I heard Your Partner is very dedicated. They love love. ❤️❤️🌹💋❤️🌹🩷🙊.

A Tarot Reader would describe Y’all connection. Is that your partner would be kissing all over your body? They are your Divine Masculine or you are their divine masculine. I have a sense that it's both-sided. Like you are their Divine Masculine for most of y'all and Some of y'all they are your Divine Masculine. If that makes sense. You and Your Partner's connection will bring in a lot of New Opportunities. This is your Karmic Partner. Your Partner will emotionally support you. Because they can't stand seeing you hurt. I feel like the second tear comes down your eyes. I can see their face fucking mad like heated. Or vice versa. You and your partner will love each other no matter what and y'all would be there for each other. They'll hug you. I can see them roughly hugging you tight. Alright, your partner through this connection with them. I feel them for this! But some of you, your partner will be exposing your families. Or a friend or whoever hurt you. They'll expose them to who they are. I can hear them say “ I hope I'll never them your family.” I think if your partner has to meet your family who treated some of y'all like bad they'll curse that they ass out. Their mouth is like fucking knives 🔪. They'll be overly protective of you. I can hear them screaming 🙀 loud! “ I'M YOUR FUCKING FAMILY”. Damn! They don't like it. So whatever story you tell them or they tell you, oh snap that family isn't ready for what's to come. I think a tarot reader would say that your partner will be a fighter! Like anyone who's come near you with the bullshit! I can see them saying “They better put their fists up. Anybody can get it”. Or again, that can be you. I don't blame them. Both of you are each other's perfect match. Your partner is a Gangster that fell in love with a good girl. I don't mean by street Gangster but they are like a gangster that probably invest in shit. Even if they are a street Gangster This is your Twin Flame, remember twin flame is karmic too. But see! You two will bring each other freedom. In this connection, it will help you both see the truth about everything and All the lessons you've learned. Reckless Sex! Woo 😯 yes 👍🏽 you two will have reckless. I'm talking about dirty sex. 🤤🤤. Right Now! They've working on seeing you in their dreams. They sense that someone or something is blocking y'all. So right now both of y'all minds are foggy 🌁. Okay, again your partner is feeling drained right now. Okay, some of you will be dealing with your Twin Flames, and Most of Y’all will be dealing with your High-Vibe Soulmate. ❤️🌹. Someone draining your partner. I don't know what it is. But that's exactly what it is. In this connection, both of you will be committed to each other. Because they'll be loyal and dedicated to you and vice versa.

Pile 2: A Reader would describe your partner that they like to stare. So the second they see you they'll be staring at you for a long time. It seems like they can recognize your energy or your face 😍. Because they think that your partner feels that you are one the they've been seeing in their dreams. Or they just like to stare at you. I've heard them say “I've never seen someone who is so beautiful like you. You're like a star ✨ in my eyes.” Yes, your partner is a charmer. They'll like it when you know how to negotiate with other businesses. Because they are a businessman themselves. Your higher self and theirs are already together and it is slowly coming down. Your partner is the type that will knock someone the fuck out if anyone disrespects you. Damn, so far Piles 1 and 2 partners will knock someone the fuck out. Haha 😂. Your partner is sending you healing energy even from a far distance they'll send you healing energy 🔋. I've heard them say “I'm concerned about my baby.” So they are the type to send you healing energy. Both you and your partner will emotionally support each other and you guys are telepathy connected. Okay, now your partner is a player and they are closed off, acting all immature and feeling like they don't deserve love. So your partner is very closed off. I think your partner's higher self or they want to help you and guide you through the pain you went through. Jeez, your partner is the type that will speak sarcastically about how they feel whenever your date other men because honestly, they high-key like you. “ I don't like that guy for you. There's someone else better for you Uh, like me.” Both you and your partner has some karmic debts that’s need to be finished in this lifetime. That’s why some of you hasn’t been meeting your partner. Because you have your own shit to deal with. Your partner wants to communicate with you and they are praying 🤲🏾 you come into their life. I think your partner are investing into gambling. Or they are good businessman! Remember what I said before. Your partner is the type to put you in your place like aggressively and they are dominant. I sense that they are aggressive. Sometimes they can get out of pocket. That’s how a tarot reader would describe your partner

🥰Now Y’all connection together. In the beginning, of y’all connection it will be complicated because they are immature. They’ll be going through a phase. I don’t know what type of phase they’ll be going through. Maybe, they don’t want to let go of this player status bullshit. Or that can be you. They wanna get you pregnant. So they love having sex with you. “I wanna keep getting pregnant over and over again. I wanna keep you trap.” Well they wanna keep you trap. Both of you will love courting each other. Budding Romance 💘. Aww 🥰🥰😍. I feel like some of you will be going out a lot with your homegirls. They won’t trip about it. Wow, there’s a lot of healing through this connection between you and your partner. Especially, sexual. They are always horny! Always. So a lot of sexual healing ❤️‍🩹 you and them. They wanna cummin inside of you and they are turned on by your moan. They notice that you have a Goddess Body and that's why they'll worship you. I heard them say “What's happening to me, I never did this to anyone before. What are you doing to me?” Or both of you will worship each other but I can see them worshipping you. “Your Majesty.” hear up ladies/gentlemen 🎩. Ahh, again with Your Highness your partner is going to grow out of that immaturity to being the man/woman that you want. Or vice versa. I think that you or they are into BSDM or might join the community of it. Dominant Daddy! I swear some of y'all are getting a dominant partner. “I wanna give you my word that even if we don't last long. I'll make sure that I'll stay in your life forever.” They are promising you that. Both of you will give each other the Freedom to be y'all self. While y'all focusing on y'all self-esteem they'll support you and vice versa. Your partner has a hard time troubling sleeping. They don't sleep. I heard them say “I'm a night owl.” Even when you two get some space they can feel your energy. They'll be texting you and asking you if you are okay. Or again, that can be you doing that. “I don't like what I'm feeling, Are you sure you okay?” They'll fight for you because they are a chaser so in their heart if they feel like you are worth it. They'll put in the effort to make sure that you are good. They'll fight for this connection with you and I believe the same thing with you guys too.

Pile 3: They would describe your partner as a person who is protective of the ones they love. They'll be the ones that will handle your family. They might expose them on social media or they'll be the ones that will stand by your concern and help you speak your truth. Your partner is a workaholic and they'll burn their self out. Just to take care of their family. They'll go days without sleep just to make sure their family is satisfied. Your partner is trying to communicate with you, just to talk about how their day went. I noticed that some of y'all partners are players and they are immature as hell. But they are tall men and someone had hurt them and so they just fucking around. Smh 🤦🏾‍♀️🤦🏾‍♀️. This partner loves having sex and they want you to show them your kinky side. Because they want to try everything with you. Right Now, both of y'all karma are blocking you two from getting close to y'all union. Wow 😮 your partner is the type that will run away from conflict they don't like confrontation. They'll do anything to ignore it and the next morning they'll change the topic. Like no! You two have to talk about what happened. They'll stare at you for a long time because they recognize you or they had felt your energy. Hahaha, you two will share a lot of secrets 🤐 that no one knows about y'all. They would rather keep it that way. Most of y'all partners can be sports players and they are mature for their ages. They love to read. I don't think they are into the technology 📱 stuff like that. I can hear them say “Phones distract you and corrupt your brain.” They feel safe around you and they wanna make sure you feel safe around them too. Because they love your energy. They love you and embody your energy. I don't know if some of y'all energies now that's fucking feeling drained or if some of y'all readers banishing other tarot communities! You fucking need to stop that shit! Because y'all partners sending y'all bitter people healing energy. They are feeling that shit. Anyways, your partner is the type that will curse your ass out whenever you are getting out of line. But they will apologize in the end.

🙊In this connection both of you will break up for a while. I heard “This is a long breakup.” So y'all going to break up for a long time. Yikes, but that's a good time in a sense. Fuck! Their Ex gave them that tainted love. As where toxic love. They treated your partner badly. Or again, your partner could've treated their ex badly. Y'all family will be bringing the drama into y'all lives. Your partner is going to cut them off “Our families aren't our future.” I don't know about y'all but your partner isn't afraid to get the scissors ✂️ and cut their family off. This is your High-vibe Soulmate ❤️🩷❤️. So there is a bad close friend that will try to fucked things up for y'all two. Both of you are each other's Divine Counterparts. It seems that FREEDOM! Is important in all these PILES. Your partner has a breeding kink so you know what that means. 🤤🤤. I think that you two should take a leap of faith because damn, they have some kinks. Breeding one of them. So yeah, I was right! It was their toxic family members. That will be fucking around. You'll be reunited with your partner soon. Dominant “I want to tie you up and make you squirt all over.” Wow, some of y'all partners are freaks 🤤. This is your true love but it's been written that your partner is your true love ❤️. Okay, so I believe that most of y'all are workaholics and I think that's why y'all are going to break up for a while. I feel like both of you are stubborn as hell. Especially, your partner. “ I may be stubborn but you are getting on fucking nerves. All you do is drown yourself in your work. What about us?” So, they might feel cast out because you too focus on their career or job. Again, they'll be getting you pregnant left to right.

Pile 4: If some of y'all confident enough you should ask your partner to come down and talk to you and make their presence known. I feel like they wanna talk to you too. Anyways, your partner is the type to knock someone the fuck out if anyone disrespects them or you. I heard them say “ESPECIALLY YOU.” but I sense that some of y'all partners don't know that they are getting played by their friends or their friends are gaslighting them. So it makes them feel like they are tripping. Your partner is working on themselves and taking the steps toward you and your connection with them is divine timing. Wow, your partner is a goofball they love to laugh. I think that they have a dark sense of humor. They'll laugh at someone in the movies. if someone dies funny in the movie they'll laugh about it. So they are going to love making you laugh. Because they felt so alone for a long time. Didn't I say that? Your partner is the type that will do anything to get your attention. They'll try to impress you by making corny jokes. They love sex. So if you got some kinks even if it is the most embarrassing 😊 ones they will do it for you. Because they wanna try everything with you. Everything! Okay, maybe, that's some of y’all partners that are doing this shit! But they have a lot of passion for you but they are hiding their self through someone else spirit. You probably think it's the man of your dream but it's just your partner hiding their self through that other person. Which is corny. Anyways, they will take care of your family. I mean take care of them. If you know what I mean by that. R.I.P. to some of y'all toxic families. You might meet your partner at the place you work or one of your friends will set up a meeting between you and your partner. Maybe, some of y'all friends know your partner already. Good luck to y'all if they do. I'm hearing from spirits like don't worry you calling in your soul mate just keep focusing on yourself period. There’s a person that is blocking your creative feminine energy. I'd like to know who's doing that shit. But you need to trust your partner that they are coming in very soon. Aww, your partner is the type that is going to love talking to you because of the way you express yourself with your hands they are going to love it. Your partner is the type that will bring you flowers 🌹 even if you don't like flowers they'll buy it still. Again, they'll do anything to get your attention. This is your life partner! If some of y'all know what that's mean 😏. Ayee.

❌In this connection they would've described y'all connection as courting. They'll be courting you. Like kissing your hand, giving you compliments, and just being a gentleman as they are. A lot of you will be hanging out with your homegirls. Ha! I heard in my head a girl's trip. So have fun ladies. You and your partner will be horny all the time for each other. No wonder! Fuck! Breeding kink. Well, get ready for that kitty to get busted wide open 👐🏾 because most of y'all are going to push out some fucking babies for them. So what if some of y'all are submissive? So am I but man! Y'all are going to have messy sex in this connection. I'm talking about fucking everywhere. “ I'm hard right now. What are you going to do? Let it stay hard.” So again, if some of you women are submissive then yeah, good luck. I think that there’ll be times when your partner or yourself will be feeling drained not because of you two it's just life sometimes. You two will give each other that freedom. To let y'all focus on y'all self. I said it! Cummin inside of you. I don't know why I saw this but they seem sneaky. Because I saw them busting the condom. Oh, bondage. Well well, they want to explore your kinks just like explore theirs. So there might be some decision phase. Like complications, I don't know if that's something for you and your partner to figure out. Okay, again, you two will emotionally support each other through this connection. Okay. Now I'm getting it. So it can be something that drains you two like memories or triggers. So you two will immediately fall in love with each other. Especially, your partner they'll automatically fall in love with you. See! Y'all be a perfect couple but not a perfect situation. Not everything is going to be perfect you two will go through y'all the ups and down.

Pile 5: I just want to mention this real quick. For some of y'all don't know this or don't want to believe this but some of y'all souls decided to be with one person only. That doesn't mean you can't date around but it just means that you incarnated down here to be with your husband only. So again, some of y’all incarnated down here to be with your twin flame. Whether it is romantic or not but I believe some of y'all did that. Anyways, your partner is a player! They are immature or act immature. Still ain't cute. Your partner's higher self loves you already unconditionally and they are supporting you. You two are meant to achieve something in this life. I think that your partner has Scorpio tendencies. Whenever they are feeling emotional they are intense. So they're feeling is heavy. I would know I'm Scorpio Venus. Your partner is romantic and they have a hard time opening up their heart. I think for real some of y'all like to stare at you. But I think this person is blocking your feminine energy or that can be you doing it. Woah, most of y'all partners are going to handle y'all toxic families, friends, or co-workers. But they are handling your families. You are calling in your high-vibe Soulmate. See! Some of y'all got y'all twin flames 🔥 but most of y'all calling in y'all soulmate. Your partner is impressed with how you talk or the way you move your hands when you explain yourself.

👏🏾 Sigh, 🙊✨✨so y'all are going to get pregnant throughout this connection with them. See! It's A Even Day! I got that from Charlotte from Bridgeton. So constant sex with you two. This is your best friend and you'll feel a strong connection with them. You are going to feel complete with them. No matter what. Again, you are going to get pregnant with them. Look at that! Wow, you've made your player fall in love with you. That's so cute 🩷💋. It is a divine union between you and them. Right now! I feel like there's something or someone is blocking y'all from seeing each other in dreams or meeting each other. But your partner is working hard being with you. So you can't doubt it. Just take that leap of faith and keep it moving. So in the beginning, I can see your partner hanging out with friends and they are pretending to use their friend's bathroom and they'll sneak out just to go see you. Wow! Conception! Okay, in my opinion, wear protection with this partner, please. It seems like all the piles of y'all partners here don't know how to use condoms. I feel like most of you will have that traditional pattern. Like “First comes love, then comes marriage and y'all baby carriage.” oh yeah, your partner is horny for you all the time. Including you too. Lol 😆 closeness! I feel like you'll dominate them. DOMINANT MOMMA! So go ahead, and check their asses. Lol 😆 a lot of sloppy toppies. 🤤🤤🤤🙊🤤🙊🤤. Y'all sex life won't be boring at all😊. This is how a Tarot Reader would describe your partner and y'all connection. Oh, I have a song for y'all. Oh yeah, they have trouble sleeping. Maybe, your partner is a night owl 🦉.

Enjoy the reading! Remember This is a general reading.

#pac reading #tarot reading #free tarot reading #fs pick a pile #tarot cards #pick a pile #divination readings #intuitive readings #love reading #pac reblog #tarot witch #tarot tumblr #psychic readings #psychic readers #partner #connection #tarot reader #free readings #future spouse #tarot community #tarot sale #tarotblr #welcome post #pac tarot #pick a card #18+ only #taroteverydamnday #Spotify

[rbbrbikerthorp]

A New Neighbour Moves In

[Please note: all characters are 18 plus and any reference to boy or girl is purely descriptive or used in dialogue between the characters.]

Mitchell was living the life much like any typical 23 year old male would. He’d graduated university, he had started his career in recruitment for legal and financial services and was starting to earn good monthly commissions on top of his basic salary. He’d used all the money inherited from his grandparents to buy a 1-bedroom flat in a new development, just on the edge of the city centre. Mitchell didn’t have a steady girlfriend – he wasn’t in a long-term relationship place. As he told his mates at the gym, he was a ‘date them and ditch them’ once he’d managed to ‘get them in the sack’ kind of bloke.

It was a Monday morning and Mitchell needed to get to work. First, he had to navigate his way carefully out of the flat where he’d been invited to spend the night. The girl he’d met in the club the previous evening had taken a shine to his blue eyes, rugby toned body and wavy blonde hair. “Another notch on the bedpost,” Mitchell thought as he tiptoed his way out of the girl’s bedroom. Mitchell made it a policy to only meet women in person and he would never exchange contact details. It meant that none of his ‘conquests’ had any idea of how to find him and, as he was enjoying his ‘tom cat’ life so much, he sure didn’t want to be found. He went on his Uber app and requested a taxi. In less than two minutes one had pulled up in front of him. He took one last look up at the window to check the curtains were still closed and the car pulled away from the curb.

He arrived back at his flat in plenty of time to get ready for the day ahead. He shaved his weekend beard growth and then turned on the shower. Whilst the water warmed up, he took a moment to admire himself in the mirror. He loved how beefy his legs looked from the years of playing rugby first in secondary school and then in the university’s first team. His regular attendance at the gym meant he had a well-defined chest and arms. Women loved his bum as it stood out, firm and muscular. Yes, at that moment as he entered the shower cubicle Mitchell was very content with his life, but on this day, things were about to change.

As Mitchell locked his front door, he noticed piles of boxes outside the flat next door. As he turned towards the lifts, he ran into a large man. He barely stopped as he fell into him. Stepping backwards he said, “I’m really sorry, I didn’t see you there.” As the guy regained his balance, Mitchell noticed the man’s shaved head, jeans with bleach marks with tall black boots with white laces tucked into them. Even though he thought of himself as a tough, well-built guy, he stuttered feeling inadequate and intimidated by this stranger. “I…I…I’m Mitchell,” holding out his hand, “n... n… nice to meet you. So, you’re moving in next door? I… I… always wondered who my new neighbour would be? It’s been vacant for ages.

The man smiled, “I’m John and yes, it was quite a steal really. Apparently last owner had been shacked up with his fiancé for the last few months and they were about to get married. I made an offer a bit less than what they were asking for, but, because he needed to put money down as a deposit on a new house, he had no choice but to accept.”

“Well,” Mitchell replied being polite, “I… I… I’ve got to get my bus.”

“Yes, I can see you’re dressed for an office. As you can probably see I’m not a suit person myself.”

Mitchell laughed nervously. Why was he feeling so unsettled by this guy?

“Look, why don’t you drop by when you get home from work. I always like to get to know my new neighbours.”

On the spur of the moment, Mitchell couldn’t think of an excuse not to accept the invitation, so he said, “why not? Must go!” As he walked away, he could sense the man was staring at him. He shouted, “good luck unpacking” and then lowered his voice a little, “weirdo.”

John couldn’t help admiring his good-looking young neighbour’s physique, and he shook his head hearing Mitchell mumbling that last word. He began to create a mental picture of what Mitchell might look like wearing less formal clothing. Tattoos were common on young men of a similar age these days, so John wondered if he had acquired any ink yet. He was sure to find out later when Mitchell would drop in for a chat and John would explain was his lifestyle was all about. John set about unpacking so that he could prepare for his young neighbour’s visit.

It was around 7:30 in the evening when John heard a knock on the door. He opened it to find Mitchell had changed out of his work suit into a t-shirt and sports shorts. “Come in.” It felt more like an order to Mitchell than a pleasantry.

“You got everything unpacked I see.” Mitchell said trying not to stare at the many pairs of tall lace-up boots all lined up by the door; taking in the various bomber jackets hanging on the coat rack and the skinhead themed pictures and posters on the walls.

John noticed Mitchell’s “That’s nothing lad, I’ve got way more kit in the bedroom.”

Mitchell really didn’t want to know any more about what might be in John’s bedroom, “takes all kinds I guess,” he thought as John handed him a beer. The two men chatted, but as Mitchell sipped away at the beer, “wow”, he thought, “this stuff has a real kick.” He found himself becoming more relaxed and more willing give direct answers to John’s questions; about his job, his personal life, his family and friends. Mitchell was hoping that by dressing as though he was going to the gym and John would bring their chat to an end and let him go on his way. Mitchell was starting to fidget as you do when you’re about to stand up. However, John had different ideas, “stay right there lad, and I’ll get us another beer.” Mitchell suddenly found himself wanting to stay and slumped back into the sofa.

“So wh… wh… what do you for a living?” Mitchell asked with a slight stutter and slur as John handed him another glass of beer.

John smiled, “I’m glad you asked. To put it simply I change people.”

“Change people?” Mitchell asked thoroughly bemused.

“Yes, I change people. I take ordinary people, with very traditional upbringings and boring lives and I change them into whatever takes my fancy.” You, young Mitchell are just the sort of person I look for to mould into something more, hmm, you know ‘out-there’.”

Mitchell had downed half the glass of beer at this point.

John continued, “maybe I’ll slowly take them from the lives they are currently leading and over a few hours, a few days, maybe a few weeks transform them. They might end up as a…”

John could sense Mitchell’s fear about what might happen to him but continued, “The next person I change may end up as filthy mohawked punk, a dirty greaser biker, a Leatherman, a goth, a rubber slave. Who knows? It’s whatever takes my fancy at that moment. After a time, I get bored and need a new challenge, so I sell them on to people into the lifestyle and I move on to my next…”

Mitchell couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He opened his mouth to challenge what John was saying but he discovered it wouldn’t move. His heart was pounding, his anxiety levels were on the rise – no matter how hard he tried he was unable to form any words.

“Mitchell, I want you to calm down! Mitchell is such as pompous name, so from now on you’re gonna be called Mike. Now, I will carry on. John pulled out an amber charm which he swung from side to side, glowing eerily in front of Mike’ glazed eyes. When I combine this fine-looking stone with a special ingredient I have – oh you know I added a few drops into your beer, my victims become more… open to the changes I want to make to them. More compliant.” Mike’ eyes were affixed on the stone. “That’s right, just follow the stone, from side-to-side, follow the stone, transfixed by its glowing beauty/” John was comfortable in the knowledge that Mike would soon be his personal boy toy. “Isn’t that the most striking, bright and coloured stone you’ve ever seen Mike?”

He tried to open his mouth in one solitary second of defiance, but all he could managed was a barely audible squeak. His independence, his free will, his ability to fight and think freely had departed. There was no resistance left in Mike. His mind was now mush, the lad could only obey and conform.

John pulled Mike to his feet and dragged him to the bathroom. Once there, he placed him in a chair. “Right Mike, I’ve been thinking all-day about the life I want to give you. How do you fancy being my skinhead son? I’ve always wanted someone I could call a son, but being gay it was never going to happen, and I think you will make the perfect skinhead.” John didn’t wait for Mike to reply - he couldn’t; he did however see the confusion and distress in Mike’ eyes. He chuckled to himself.

John walked over to the bathroom cabinet and took out several items: some electric clippers, scissors, a pack of Mach 3 razors and a can of shaving cream. Turning his head to look at the boy, he smiled, “Only real men have hair. So, yours needs to go Mike. I’ll start on your legs and then your chest, all of that lovely blonde hair on your head and not forgetting the parts in-between. I’m going to enjoy getting rid of that wavy blonde hair. When I’m done, you’ll have a perfectly smooth bonehead.” John cut through the lad’s t-shirt revealing a well-defined torso. Staring at the blank canvas and thinking what he would do to it, he couldn’t help but squeeze one of Mike’ nipples. John detected the tiniest of yelps, so he squeezed the other nipple. There was no reaction this time, Mike’ mind was lost. He continued to stare into the  amber jewel that was hanging in front of his face.

John turned on the clippers, starting with the boy’s left leg. Hair started falling in clumps on the floor. Once the left leg was done, he moved on to the right one. Soon John was wiping them down with a cloth, applying a astringent lotion so that the smooth skin shone in the bathroom lights and after a few more applications, regrowth would never be a problem. Then it was onto the chest. Although Mike was only in his early twenties, he’d already got quite a covering of fur, which John’s clippers made quick work of. Mike’s arms were also denuded of hair. John turned off the clippers and, with the same cloth, applied more of the special lotion to the recently clipped areas.

John stood up and smiled. He paused for a second, “this is the last time there will be any hair growing on your head.” He pressed the on switch, and after hearing the familiar ‘clack’ he began ploughing all the way through the boy’s golden locks. In no time at all Mike was motionless sitting in the chair with a zero-grade cut. John picked up the can of shaving cream, squirted it into his hands and rubbed it copiously all over Mike’ head. He took the necessary time to ensure all the fuzz was removed and Mike’ head felt like a cue-ball. In no time at all there was a shiny hairless skinhead son sitting in front of him.

Looking down, John smiled as Mike’ identity lay on the floor in clumps. He looked up at Mike who was sitting perfectly still, with the same glazed eyes and dazed expression on his face, oblivious to the changes being made without his consent. He took the cloth, poured some more lotion into it and rubbed it into his son’s head.

“Stand,” John ordered. Mike complied, happily obeying his skinhead master. The sports shorts were pulled down over the now smooth legs and John stood back as he grabbed the clippers. “Now boy, I need you to get nice ‘n’ hard so I can make sure I get all your hair… down there...” He watched as slowly but surely there was movement in Mike’ groin. John grinned as in no time at all full mast was achieved. “Very nice boy,” John said out loud, “I bet you were popular with the women. Is that six, possibly seven inches? Good and think as well. Unfortunately for you, you’re not going to have much use of it as my son, but it will look amazing with a thick gauge PA, and a Jacob’s ladder.”

‘Clack’, John turned on the clippers and began the removal of the last remaining hairs on Mike’ body. He had to hold himself back as he rubbed the special lotion into the skin around the groin and on the mounds that had once been covered in thick hair. When he was satisfied the boy was as smooth as the day he was born, John left the bathroom to get something from his bedroom. When he returned Mike hadn’t moved, he was still lost in the stone “Now here I have the perfect thing to complete you. Now stay perfectly still.”

Later, John walked into the main room of the flat dressed in full skinhead gear. As he gazed at his newly denuded skinhead son, he felt his manhood straining inside a pair of skin-tight bleachers, which were turned-up and touching the top of a pair of 30-hole red ranger style boots. He was looking lustfully at the 23-year-old standing to attention, still wearing the expression, he had when the amber jewel turned him into the compliant vessel he now was. “It’s time for the next stage in your transformation lad.” With that John walked over to a cupboard an opened the doors.

The cupboard contained piles of skinhead gear from boots to bleachers to braces to bomber jackets. First, he instructed Mike to put on a yellow jockstrap. “You’ll be wearing this non-stop for a few days – it needs to get in nice ‘n’ ripe.” Then he passed the boy a t-shirt, which Mike willingly slipped over his head. “These are your bleachers; they’ve got two zips – front and rear – you’ll soon find out why,” he grinned, “slip them on.” Mike pulled up the tight-fitting jeans that had been liberally splashed with bleach. Mike didn’t take any notice of the fact that they’d been cut off just below the knee and turned up so that they would show the full extent of the boots he would almost always be wearing when he wasn’t in his work gear. John walked across to Mike carrying a pair of red braces which he attached to the bleachers, pulling them right up his bum crack – so much so that Mike let out a little groan. To finish this stage of the transformation, John handed Mike the left boot. It was black with 20 eyelets and partly laced. John talked Mike through how to ladder lace the boot tightly and perfectly. John fitted a padlock at the very top of the boot before handing over the right one. When John was happy with the way that one was laced, he fitted another padlock. “Stand!” Mike stood up. “Turn to look in the mirror, see the Skinhead son I’ve created. This is what you are now a proud skinhead and my skinhead son.

“Now, we can begin your training. Kneel!” Mike complied. “I know your tongue will still be a bit tender, so I’ll be gentle. Open!” John commanded, and with that he slid his cock into Mike’ open mouth. “Move your tongue slowly, showing how much your love the bottom of your skinhead dad’s cock. Make sure you keep your lips tightly closed as I don’t want you to spill anything.”

He sat back as his cock was held between Mike’ virgin lips and soon found himself about to cum as the hard stud, he had introduced to the lad’s tongue work its magic. The combination of it all and the sensitivity soon had John unloading his massive load. “Swallow!” Mike swallowed quickly trying not to “spill’ as he had been instructed. John soon slid from the lips of his new son and quickly zipped up his own bleachers. “Yes,” John thought, studying the boy who, in addition to the tongue piercing also had a stud in each lobe and four more studs all the way up each of his ears. Mike would serve him well as his skinhead son, but first he needed to complete the lad’s transformation. “Right son, let’s go – I need you to see a friend of mine.”

With that John grabbed a green bomber jacket with orange lining and threw it to Mike, “put it on,” he instructed. Mike slipped on what he would get to know as an MA1 and followed John out of the flat. Right away he found it strange walking in heavy soled, tightly laced boots, but he didn’t complain – he couldn’t.

The skinhead and son waited a few minutes at the bus stop before one came along heading in the direction of the city centre. They alighted just before the main shopping area. It was an area that would be unfamiliar to Mitchell, but Mike was oblivious to everything now. He obeyed his skinhead dad, just as any good son would do. The two skinheads walked side by side into a small industrial estate. One of the units had a sign saying, ‘Anaconda Tattoo Studio and Piercing’. John walked ahead of Mike, as they got to the door, John walked in but for a second Mike hesitated. John knew this sometimes happened, especially with all the distractions of the outdoors. He pulled the amber stone out of his pocket and held it in front of Mike. “This way boy,” he ordered. Mike complied; his eyes once again completely transfixed on the glow of the jewel.

Once inside the tattoo studio, John turned to Mike, “stand here son. I need to talk to the owner.” Mike waited as instructed. Despite tattoos being made popular by the countless athletes and celebrities who adorned their bodies with intricate permanent markings, the old Mitchell would have never crossed the threshold foot into a tattoo studio. But here was Mike waiting to submit to whatever his skinhead dad was discussing with the owner.

John came out of the back office followed by a hulk of a man who was wearing tight leather trousers, a black vest, which exposed his muscular arms covered in tattoos, shaved head with long unkempt beard and on his feet were heavy biker boots. “Son this is Griff, he’s going to give you some more piercings and your tattoos. But first, you are to strip down to your jockstrap. When you’ve done that, go over there and sit in the chair. From now on you will do exactly what Griff tells you to do. He’s going to give you your first marks to show the world that you’re a proud skinhead. After you’ve got your first ink, he’s going to give you some more metal. I’m going to leave you for a bit, but I’ll be back to see the finished work.” Turning to Griff, John said, “he’s all yours.”

Griff walked over to Mike wearing only his jockstrap  sitting obediently in the chair. Since John had already removed all the boy’s hair, Griff simply wiped clean the areas to be tattooed and then laid the first outline template on the skin. His machine was then started up, some ink was added, and the needle started to buzz.

He then began applying the needle over the site of the first tattoo, Mike felt a dull pain but didn’t flinch. Once the first tattoo on the boy’s left arm was completed, Griff went on to add the other tattoos as instructed by John. He started work on a full sleeve on Mike’s right arm, which would take four or five visits to complete. Then he added a bulldog to the rear of the lad’s right calf. Finally, two swallows were added to the back of the each of the lad’s hands. Griff whispered into Mike’s ear, “that’s all I’m doing now lad. John has booked half a dozen more sessions, so you’ll be coming back to get your neck, back and chest inked, and I can finish off the full sleeve. Now stay still. There’s a couple more things to do. Griff pushed away his tattoo cart and returned with another.

Griff looked at the docile boy in the chair. I think we will start with the nipples. Griff played, stroked and flicked them for a few moments until they were firm. He then slipped a needle through the left nipple, at which point Mike squealed. He then installed a barbell through the hole left by the needle and screwed a ball onto either end. He repeated the process for the right nipple. “No touching lad.” Griff then turned his attention to the lad’s groin and applied a topical cream to the so-called policeman’s helmet (bell-end to others). “Right, we’ll give that a little while to take effect and, in the meantime, we can sort out your nose piercing. This will hurt, but only for a second.” Griff then picked up a clean needle from his trolley and quickly passed it through the front part of the septum. Mike’s eyes began watering, so he knew the boy was feeling the pain from the intrusion of the needle. Carefully he inserted a ring into the boy’s septum, and then said out loud, “That will take six weeks or so to heal, then John wants it swapped for a bigger ring.” Now, the cream should have dulled your senses on your knob so let’s add the final bit of metal you’re getting today. He wiped the area to be pierced with an antiseptic skin cleanser, put a mark where the piercing was to be made, and begin the piercing process. The most painful moment for Mike in the piercing process was when the piercing needle punctured his urethra. One the needle was through, Griff inserted a circular barbell and spoke again, “don’t worry if you feel a bit of discomfort – a dull, throbbing pain that’s to be expected.

At that moment the door opened, and John walked in carrying a large shopping bag. “He’s all done, just as you instructed John. Don’t forget to leave the starter jewellery in for six weeks – no less, and make sure you use the aftercare solution. After that we can do a bit of stretching to your liking.”

As the days turned into weeks. John had started his son on the path to being a smoker. First, he gave him a gum to chew to introduce nicotine into the body, then he encouraged him to vape. When he felt there was an addiction starting, he told the boy to smoke cigarettes, starting him on five a day, and quickly moving onto ten, then fifteen. Within a couple of weeks, he was getting through a pack a day.

Mike also kept up his weekly visits to Griff, as more of his skin was covered with ink. Over the period, the full sleeve was completed, the Union flag was tattooed on the back of Mike’s next, the word skinhead was tattooed in script of his back and the letters that made up the word skinhead were inked on his knuckles and finally a Celtic cross was inked on the left pectoral. On the most recent visit Griff replaced the rings in his septum and PA with heavier gauges. As per John’s instructions, he also replaced the studs in his ears with rings and the ones in the lobes with spreaders. Mike joined his skinhead dad in a new gym, one that was run by an ex-boxer friend of John’s. John made sure to get Mike in the boxing ring so that his pretty boy face could get roughed up a bit. John wanted his son to look a bit freakier.

Mike didn’t look like the sort of person who would work in an office anymore, so he was signed up to work in the city council’s recycling centre – they were always in need of people to sort through other people’s waste. Five days a week he stood by a conveyor belt dressed in dirty Hi-Viz gear, and safety boots separating glass, metal, plastic, paper and cardboard into different bins.

After work, the boy would return to his skinhead dad’s flat, which was much bigger now that the wall had been knocked through joining what was Mitchell’s flat and John’s flat together. This night was special because as soon as he got home, Mike got out of his stinking workie gear he’d be in since just after dawn and into the skinhead gear his dad left out for him. Tonight, skinhead dad would be introducing his skinhead son to the lads in the pub. Mike dressed in his bleachers, a black Fred Perry, yellow socks and red 20-hole boots. Mike was ready in time for his dad to return home. John walked through the door and saw the perfect skinhead son standing there. “C’mon son. You’re gonna meet your skin bruders.”

#ranger boots #tattoos #bleachers #conversion #skinhead #workie

[natsuyuki-w]

Not one of the boys

Twisted wonderland cast realizes that (Yuu) is a girl.

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 Featuring: Idia and Ortho - Sebek and Silver

The dark figure in our dorm's yard was unmistakable, and like in his prior appearances, I jogged to him as soon as I noticed.

- VDC you say? Are you actually trying to invite me to this?- - Why yes...The boys have been working hard, I assure you, it's stunning! And well... As fun, as it is following your "Will-o'-the-wisp", I would like to be around you more. - and then backed - Only if you want to of course! -

Much as his Fae companion, Tsunotarou laughed at my expenses leaving me with my lingering smile and owlish confused eyes. - You really seem to know no fear. - he smiled broadly - Very well. I humbly accept your invitation.- and I smiled back, hoping that he would not just bully me after.

- Will you be going on stage? - - Ah no! I'm their "manager", as Vil likes to call me. - - mmm a shame...- I chuckled flustered - Crowley didn't want to risk other schools finding out I am a girl. You never know what accident can happen. Ha ha ha - - Mm yes I can see that. Lilia told me he discovered it accidentally as well. -

I thought back to each event. Practically everyone was surprised, and I started feeling a little insecure - ...Tsunotaro, you think...Am I perhaps not feminine enough? - And he threw me a weird look - I mean, nobody ever noticed till seeing my... More prominent features. And is not like I'm going so much out of my way to hide it! So you know...- and I scratched the back of my head.

He hummed and smiled beautifully - No, I think you're plenty. - his words without an inch of tease - I think the beauty of your femininity is enhanced by your boyish charm.- ... - Wai..what!? - - I'm looking forward to the day of the show Goodnight Yuu.- *puff* and he left me standing in a blushing mess.

- Tsunotaro thinks I am beautiful...- I sighed dreamily - and he looked happy, I'm glad.-

Trope

A couple of days before the culture fair I made my way to Mr. S's Mystery Shop - Gooood morning Sam! How is it going? - - Hello (Yuu), very well thank you. Radiant as always are you? hahaha. - - Of course! My delivery has arrived yet? - I scanned the shelves. - The pile is right there next to the Grimoire. - he pointed. - You almost caught them this time. -

- Uff... I don't understand why they're so... slippery. They've been so kind to sell all those manga for such a low price. I would really like to thank them face to face no? - - They are elusive indeed. - commented Sam - Sorry, but he begged me multiple times not to say a word. - and winked. He wasn't sorry at all, he just enjoyed seeing my frustration. - Yeah yeah... I'm not here just for those; we need to refill our team. - and I handed him the list of ingredients.

---

- Another pile? - Commented Grim. - I know right?- completely missing his point. - And for like 500 Madol??? - - Shopping again Trickster? - I nodded happily to Rook - Have you seen them this time? - - Nah. Again, they ran away immediately. - I climbed the stairs to pose my new collection - And it's... so frustrating? Like sometimes they go for an hour via chat, talking about what I should watch or read, his thoughts and theories... but then they shut down completely "Sry I'm such an otaku lmao bye.'" and avoid me for days. -

- Would you like me to do a little research? - asked the hunter with a sharp smile. -...no...tho, thank you for...the thought. I guess. - I patted his shoulder awkwardly. What I didn't know then was that he already discovered the identity of my seller. - But why give away all those books anyway? - pondered Grim. - Apparently bought a stock of Mangas and he owned already some of the series. They're "sharing the words of those artworks for the greater good". Something like that. -

---

On the day of the festival, me and Grim joined the booth check team. Entered the boardgames club exhibit we found a tall boy with long hair like flames sulking in a corner of the class. - Ahh, two hours left until the research presentation...- -... Idia, what are you doing at a place like that? - frowned Riddle. - It's called anxiety. - I mumbled.

- Uwah!!! Riddle master!!! Why are you here? - he jumped. - M-master? - - Fist of steal even outside the dorm eh? - I nudged the redhead on the side. He frowned at me and taking advantage of his distraction I saw the awkward boy nodding profusely. - Are you ready for the research presentation?- turned back the little tyrant. - Y-you don't have to worry. Just wait and see. - responded the other.

I stared for a moment in thought, making him even more fidgety than before - Are you perhaps... Ortho's brother? - - Sigh... *Eh-hem Y-yes. - he exhaled relieved. - 'Knew it I saw somewhere that blue hair! I have to say, after seeing him "draw a sword" defending your honor at the VCD auditions, I was very curious about meeting you. - - I-well-there's n-nothing i-i-interesting aab-b-bout m-me...I CAUGHT THE INTEREST OF A NORMIE IKEMEN????? - he mumbled hiding from my view.

- Riddle Roseharts, Trey Clover, Grim, hello! Of course, I'll always be there for Nii-san, he's a genius, (Yuu) (Wander)! - appeared the brother in question before I could protest the title of normie. - (YUU) (WANDER)??? - Idia jumped back but quickly covered his mouth and his back faced us all for a second time. He sneaked a look from his shoulder, caught my eyes, and the flames on his head turned pink. My companions looked me over questioningly, but seeing my expression just as confused, they searched for answers in his most trusted subject.

*Blank stare.* - W-well...*eh-hem Hi Ortho! I'm sure you speak the truth about your brother, I'm looking forward to hearing the...- - ...(Yuu) (Wander) - interrupted me once more in a softer tone. The four of us stared back and forth at the pair in search of answers.

- But it's great! - suddenly quipped Ortho. - Nii-san don't you understand? Is like in that Shojo where the girl in disguise in the boy academy becomes friends with her crush and...- - W-W-WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT ORTHO??? - The floating boy started to chant robotically. - (Yuu) (Wander) has sent at 09:45 a.m., Friday 2...- - I KNOW WHO HE IS BUT WHAT GIRL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT??? - - (Yuu) (Wander), student at Night Raven College, is a non-magical human being. Gender Female, height...-

- Stooop - I interrupted the chaotic theatric playing before our eyes. - 1, How was I unaware of sending messages to...you... - but the teenager was no longer with us, his soul probably left his body, and the now empty shell lay on the ground stiff...- ...and 2, when did you find out about me, Ortho? Being a girl that is. - I got closer to check on the dorm's leader's well-being. Tho, sensing my nearby presence he recovered immediately and ran out in a string of apologies. His hair turned a Barbie pink.

- I... Hope his presentation goes well. The magic, engineering that he specialized in has a lot of interesting articles about modern magic. So let's hope this...predicament hasn't caused too much brain damage. - pondered Riddle. - I'm a bit worried, but I'm sure he is going to recover. - and the little Sheoud turned back to us.

- So... What just happened exactly? - trailed off Grim. - You asked: 1, how were you unaware of sending messages to my brother? Nii-san has been chatting with (Yuu)San under the nickname of "Gloomy Samurai" in the second-hand shopping app: Twyst. - *GASP! I reacted dramatically - He was my generous dealer!!!! - - What was he dealing to you??? - Riddle panicked already picturing me falling into the drug club. - One launched Man, flexible cover edition from 01 to volume 23, Junior High attack, redesigned edition, flexible cover, complete... - - Mangas Riddle, Mangas. - I reassured.

- And for number 2: I scanned and stored your physical information when we met the first time. - he confessed nonchalantly. - That's... Fascinating intimidating. - I commented, eyes wide open. - And what was that Shojo girl in a boy academy... - teased Trey. - Please Ortho, don't answer that.- I flashed the green-haired boy a sharp gaze.

I had the impression Gloomy Samurai would've shut me down completely from this day on, and if before there was little possibility of him wanting to meet up in RL, now... stupid to even take it into consideration. - Say Ortho, what's your brother's favorite food? - If I couldn't thank him with me present physically or digitally, a gift would've sufficed.

Title

- TSUNOTARO????? - Sebek was in a tantrum.

- You too? - I murmured in disbelief once they finished their back and forth - Tsunotaro, can I confirm a suspicion of mine? - he smiled and nodded curious about what was going on in that small brain of mine. - This is just a stretch... But is it perhaps that you are searching gazes different from "Mighty prince" or "Terrifying magic user"? I mean why come to a public school otherwise right? -

His faithful knight threw again insults, but the subject himself stayed quiet. Silence needed to be fulfilled for my brain to function so I rumbled even more, in search of an understandable response from the boy - You know,...People can be so focused on What we are, instead of the Who. I mean I thought of it because I saw in us some similarities...Of course, is totally on a different level and type,...but, you know,... I can see a behavior change when my friends discover I'm a girl. And it's...- - WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT??? - Sebek screamed and became a blushing mess.

Silver widened his eyes in realization. - The infirmary, it wasn't a dream...- and pink gradually made its way on his face. I flew a hand on my mouth. - I got lost in my thoughts. - Malleus petted my hair chuckling while Grim clapped his paws with a flat face - It could've gone worse - I enquired to the cat - It could've rained...- I joked nervously.

- NOW EVERYTHING IS CLEAR! You have been luring our master! - screamed Sebek - That's why he has permitted you so much! For sure, under that innocent cute look, you're hiding some secret spell, seducing him you little witch. And grumble, grumble, grumble... - - I would take this as offense honestly - I murmured to the prince. - I would take that as a compliment, cute innocent witch, fufufufu.- he teased.

After recovering from my blush, he was still on fire with his ranting. So I decided to suffocate it with my trashing around - Doll, I'm not stealing your man dah. - - Wha...- As I predicted, his voice died stunned. - Not this again...- groaned Grim recalling the joke Catfights between me and my ginger friend.

- This relationship is completely consensual. - I gestured, and perplexed but very amused Malleus nodded - See? And now, look at ya. - I returned to Sebek - Chasing after him, seeking attention - and with a click of my tongue I concluded - so desperate. - - You... Never stop to surprise me child of man. -

---

Earthquake magnitude 6.2 in the Isle of Sages Possible causes: tectonic plates moved by repeated sound waves with abnormal peaks of decibels. Location: Night Raven Collage.

---

They say that I'm a witch And that I weave a spell Well, I'll be a son of a I don't know what Well, let me tell you brother I'd rather be burned as a witch than never be burned at all (I'd rather be burned as a witch - Eartha Kitt)

*Eh-hem so... What happened? - inquired Crowley. Both me and Ruggie despite the clear frustration of the headmaster, sat nonchalantly, being confident in our innocence.

~

I roamed my eyes on one of the topper shelves in the library holding on a ladder to reach them better. - What are you doing up there (Yuu)? - I heard a whisper from the ground. - Oh! Hi Ruggie! Just searching for my way home. What about you? - Maybe I could find some documents about magical transportation or alternative universes. - Ehmm okay(!?) Me? Same usual, Leona's chores. I'm taking some books for him or he'll just forget to do his research. - - Lazy ass... - I snorted reaching for another book. - Leona. That's who he is. *Shshshsh.-

His eyes then darted down. On the topic of asses. - *Eh-hem... Can you lend me a hand? I think I saw one of the books I need up there. - - Oh sure! Which one?- I responded. - There on the third, no no the fourth down,... Yep, A little more on the right...- - This one? - I glanced back. - No no the other one on the left. *Shshshhshs -

Yep, TOTALLY looking at the books.

* SBAM I jumped down. - AARGH DON'T HIT ME! - and neither of us expected the disaster after that.

~

- That's what you get looking at my boogie! - - YOU WERE TRYING TO THROW THAT BOOK AT ME! I can't believe you chicks! Thinking you have permission to use violence on men, am I right? - - NO I WASN'T! I just jumped down, You scared off yourself and hit the shelf on your own!... And don't deflect!!! You were the one scheming to... -

- SILENCE!!! - Crowley's strong voice covered both of ours. - Ruggie. - he called out sternly. The ears of the hyena were now flat waiting for the worse. - By "chicks" you mean,...girls? - he then trailed his eyes on me with that scary glowing gaze of his. Ruggie thought about it for a while and then smirked. - Yes. I meant girls. - he probably thought the Crow would get too distracted, so he could make a run out of his disaster. - That's quite an interesting predicament (Yuu)... Didn't I warn you to take secrecy? How is that this dear student know?-

- You... Didn't know, headmaster? - I blinked confused. - Know what? - I caught him unprepared. - *ps... What are you doing???- whispered-yelled Ruggie. Sure, he wanted for me to be scolded for HIM knowing, but he didn't expect... - I thought either Azul told you or you had noticed already. - I responded. - Aw. That's nice! It means they really did maintain the secret. - I reached the ahs blonde boy and patted his cheek. - I have such good friends! - - H-hey!It's because there was no advantage in telling anybody.- Embarrassed, he drove my hand away.

- (Yuu).- - Yes? - - EXPLAIN. NOW -

Finished this series!!!! Ruggie was with Silver the less brought up in the "discovery timeline", so I thought it might've been nice to include them a little more with two mini stories (Silver's is in part 3).

Malleus, on the other hand no, he didn't need more timing. But my simping for him did.

I hope you had a fun time with lil old me! Wish you the best, 'till next time! ✨💙

#bookshelf originals #twst section #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst x yuu #twst malleus x reader #idia shroud #ortho shroud #sebek zigvolt #silver vanrouge #idia x reader #sebek x reader #silver x reader #ruggie x reader #ruggie bucchi

[fredwkong]

Musk Dom

The bottom’s profile said “Tops only. Must dom.” Since your profile said, truthfully, that you were vers, you assumed that was the end of it. No messages, you would go on with your life with the memory of this hot twink’s pics in the back of your mind.

So you were more than a bit surprised when you got a message from him. He flirted sweetly, a rarity on Grindr, and pretty soon you found yourself catching the bus to his place.

“Hey, I’m vers and I don’t dom, by the way,” you texted him as you waited for a transfer.

“Don’t worry about that, handsome,” the bottom texted back.

It was so flattering you didn’t think twice about it. You were slender and not too tall, so most gay guys didn’t really give you a second look. The idea that this bottom was breaking his own no-vers, no-switch rule for your average looks was tantalizing.

When he guided you into his bedroom, the first thing that hit you was the smell. The room reeked of unwashed feet and smelly shoes. Looking around, you found the source. The bottom had a pile of sneakers in the corner, all of different sizes, brands, and levels of wear.

Trying not to cough, you said, “So, you like feet?”

The bottom gave a tinkly little laugh. “You could say that, stud.” He sat you down on the bed, and then paused. “You get to know my collection while I clean out, Sir.” He gave your hand a squeeze and, before you could protest, he closed the door behind him.

The smell of the shoes quickly filled your own awareness. With the door closed, it seemed to become increasingly intense. You felt the musky, stale stench fogging up your brain, making it hard to think. You fell back on the mattress, gasping.

You heard the door open, and the bottom came back in. “Perfect,” he said. “You’ll make a great dom for me tonight.” You heard him rummaging through the smelly shoe pile.

“B-but I’m not a dom,” you gasped. Somehow, that felt wrong to say. Didn’t little twinks like this boy deserve to be put in their place? The smell filled up that spot in your mind. Of course they did, they deserved to have a real man show them how inferior they were.

The bottom approached with a pair of crusty used sneakers from the pile. “Just let go of all those useless smart thoughts and you’ll be so much happier,” he giggled, sliding the first shoe onto your socked foot.

At close range, the thick stench of the shoes filled up your mind even faster. That was… your smell, right? This inferior twink was putting your shoes on you, as was his place. You struggled to hold onto your previous personality, your versatility and romantic side, but it sank beneath the musky fog of your foot stink before you could grasp it.

As the bottom slid the second shoe onto your other foot, your resistance started to collapse. Yeah, with your little body, you might not look to most people like a dom top, but the cloud of foot musk and your cheesy cock stink could get any man on all fours in front of you. The last of your complex thoughts dissolved as the bottom tied your laces. All you were worried about now was the next ass you were going to breed.

Before the bottom could move, you surged to your feet and pinned him down with the sole of your sneaker, the interior squelching pleasantly with your sweat. “You like that?” you growled at the bottom as he mewled pathetically under your foot. “You like that you made me like this?”

“Yes, Sir,” the bottom gasped.

“Disgusting. You had to make your own dom.” You lifted up your foot. “Get on the bed. I’m going to dump a load in your pathetic ass before I go find a real sub.”

#male transformation #mental change #top tf #dom tf #shoes tf #feet kink tf #musk tf #male tf #all fwkong

[salternateunreality2]

AGSZC Adopt an Emotional Support Cat for Sephiroth

From the @strayheartless archives <3

Thanks @heraldofcrow and @altocat for the grammar help!

---------------------------------

It doesn’t go as planned.

They go to the shelter to try to find a kitten, but Sephiroth finds something even better: a feral momma cat with a single living kitten because all her other babies died. He and she stare at each other for a solid 15 minutes through the bars, until AGZC find them.

Genesis: THERE you are. Sephiroth, the adoptable kittens are this way.

Sephiroth: This one.

Zack: Oh, sorry bud, this one says the kitten is too young to leave his mother.

Sephiroth: No, this cat. The kitten can come too. *has not broken eye contact yet*

Angeal: Sweetheart, this says she’s feral and not up for adoption, and neither is her kitten. Come on, let’s go look at the ones that are available, ok?

Sephiroth: This one.

Cloud: *Looks at Seph. Looks at the cat. Looks at the kitten. Looks at Seph.* This one.

Angeal, Genesis, and Zack can all be stubborn, but they are faced with the immovable object that is Sephiroth with a fixation and the unstoppable force that is Cloud protecting someone. They convince the shelter staff they can take care of both the mother and the baby. Yes, even though she’s feral. Yes, they know they can’t be separated. Yes, they will handle medicating the feral cat.

—

Momma cat immediately adopts Sephiroth as a second kitten. Then Cloud as her third. The first kitten grows up and is weaned and becomes Zack’s dog-cat. He’s friendly and cuddly and likes to play fetch, and his momma likes him, but knows he’s going to be ok on his own. Not her other kittens though. They clearly still need her.

She comes and yowls at Genesis and Angeal when Seph and Cloud need something she can't get them. She yowls at Genesis to go hunting with her to provide for the babies, and at Angeal to figure out what's wrong when they won't eat the nice mice she brings them.

She accepts Zack as a puppy, disciplines him, and comforts him when needed, but her attention belongs to her tall baby and her baby birb first.

Her new sons are idiots, but they’re HER idiots.

Sephiroth calls her “Mother Cat”. Cloud calls her “Cat”. Genesis insists she needs a REAL name (it’s only decent), and writes down "Serafina" on the vet papers. Sephiroth falls in love with him all over again.

If either Sephiroth or Cloud starts hyperventilating, she comes and sits on her boy and purrs until he calms down. If they ignore important things like feeding time or petting-the-cat time, she starts kneading her paws. If they still ignore her, she brings out the claws. She’s not shy about making sure they take care of her and then themselves.

She nips Zack when one of her boys is overstimulated and he's too loud.

She hisses nonstop at the vacuum and stands between it and her babies until they take her to another apartment, at which point she bathes them until they (and she) calm down.

Serafina: YOWL.

Angeal: Hi Serafina. Is one of them being an idiot?

Serafina: YOWL. *walks to the dining table*

Sephiroth: *hunched over a pile of manuscripts, hair a mess, muttering*

Serafina: YOWL.

Angeal: Seph, honey, have you been up all night again?

Sephiroth: …it’s…morning? Wh- *voice cracks* -at day?

Angeal: Wednesday.

Sephiroth: Oh *cough* just one night then.

Angeal: And you haven’t had water since…? Actually, don’t answer that. Clean up your papers, you need to eat, hydrate, and sleep. No, no arguing. Serafina is worried, you need to reassure her.

Sephiroth: Oh! Of course.

—--

Serafina: YOWL.

Genesis: Yes, my Lady Serafina?

Serafina: YOWL. *leads him to the front door, where Cloud is swaying and trying to put on his boots*

Genesis: Cloud Strife, when was the last time you ate?

Cloud: h-Huh? Gen? When did you get here? 

Genesis: Eat. When.

Cloud: ummmmm…breakfast?

Genesis: Yesterday?

Cloud: ……maybe?

Genesis: Sit down before you fall down. You know mako enhancements require more calories. No, stay there and I’ll get you a shake and a bar. Yes, I know you have work. You won’t be any use passed out or dead. Now thank your second mother for saving your life. *stomps off huffily*

#ff7 #sephiroth #zack fair #cloud strife #genesis rhapsodos #angeal hewley #emotional support mom cat #the idiots need her

[matchadobo]

Hot sexy welder here!

Could i get uuuuh headcannons kid or killer with a fem reader trying to woo them with her crafting skills? Like bringing them little handmade trinkets or stabby doodads?

Please and thank you 🙏,

A very down bad welder

KIDD & KILLER; gifts

wc: 1264 warning/s: suggestive in the end but completely sfw! fluff?? steamin?? this is my first time writing for a 2 person x reader kinda thing so forgive me if it sucks </3

"have you seen captain? killer-san too?"

you had gone around the victoria to look for kidd and his vice captain, frantically asking each face you see for the two. even the rookies who were too scared of you and the boys were in daze as you held a crate of overflowing contraptions you made over the week.

"why? gonna court 'em with that?" heat teased with a bastardly smile on his face, reaching over to touch the trinkets in the heavy crate.

it had been a known FACT around the ship that you have a MASSIVE crush on the two of them. though kidd and killer know it too, they never shut your feelings down nor ignore it. it's not the first time you've brought over some trinkets you made.

you pulled them away with a raised brow, "don't touch it! i didn't make 'em for you!" you stuck your tongue out. "and yes, i plan to give it to 'em. got any problem?"

heat surrendered with his hands leveled above his chest. "absolutely not, ma'am." he cleared his throat before finally answering your question. "but i think they're in kidd's workshop, they're planning shit for the next island."

"thanks! now, answering properly isn't so hard, right?!" you nudged him goodbye and strolled to the last room in the hallway.

you knocked a few times, waited for a while before the bickering stopped, and saw these two towering men welcome you. except that kidd has a scowl and killer has his mask on.

kidd placed his human arm at the top part of the door frame (that's how tall he is ☹️) and leaned down at your height. "what's so important, buttercup?" there was a hint of irritation in his tone, but you're used to it. you knew he wasn't annoyed, in fact the shift in his gaze from you to the shit you're carrying proved his curiosity.

killer peeked over kidd's shoulder, giving you a wave to which you smiled back at him since your hands are full.

"i brought gifts!" you beamed, trying to lift the heavy crate you're carrying. killer saw you struggling so he stepped over to carry them for you.

"gifts? last i check christmas was in the 25th, name." killer skimmed through the crate, one hand carrying the bottom of the crate, to which you were absolutely struggling on with two hands, while the other shuffled through the pile of metalworks.

"it doesn't have to be christmas to give gifts, okay? i was just..." you fiddled with your fingers. "working on something for a long time and i wanna give it to you guys."

"you love givin' shit to us that much, yeah?" kidd reached over to ruffle your hair as you looked down to try and hide your blush. "come on now 'ere inside, shortcake. let's see what you got."

as you three get settled inside, the two have began to rummage through the crate of your handiworks. "so, love it, huh?" you broke out, anticipating their reaction.

"you really wanna fill up my shelves with your shit, aye?" kidd lifted a ballerina you made from nuts and screws, it spun with the lever attached on its base when it was pulled by him.

killer played with the cars you made, wheels spinning with oiled up nuts. "don't keep them all to yourself, kidd. i'd want some of the cars too."

you were between them as they examined each trinket you made, you held stuff up for them as you showed how each of them works. they've selected those they want to keep for themselves, praising the way each piece was constructed.

"you really amaze me with these, name." kidd started, taking the miniature globe you fiddled with. "tell me somethin', why do you keep making this for us?"

both of their eyes were fixed on you, earnestly anticipating your answer. your cheeks felt hot and you felt so little under their gaze. as a member of the kidd pirates, you're used to feeling little around towering men in the crew. your crushes are two meters for fuck's sake! but you never felt so overwhelmed by them at this moment.

"don't get us wrong, name. i personally love these!" killer exclaimed, giving you a nudge. "it's just that... you do these things for someone more than once and it starts to mean something else." killer shifted in his feet, the blue in his eyes peeking through the holes of the helmet.

"like what?" you raised a brow. alternating gazes between the two men. "what kind of message does it give?" you crossed your arms, getting closer.

"name," kidd responded, getting one step closer to you. "i know you and how you don't give a fuck about anything else that you don't care about. these consistent things, these gifts and baubles, you take time in them, cooped up in your room. and don't get me started on your lingering gazes, alright? we're not fuckin' blind, sweetheart." he finished with a grin.

"so tell us," killer started, now both of them were too fucking close to you, you can smell their colognes that fucked with your brain too hard. "is this your way of confessing and saying i love you, princess?"

there was silence. and for a moment, you thought the world had stopped spinning. you cleared your throat because it felt like shit got stuck on it. "what if i said yes? what if i said i do love the living shit outta the both of you it drives me fucking insane and the only way i know how to say it is by flooding the both of you with stuff i make when i think about the you two and i can't do anything about it because making these bullshits is the only way i know how to express myself, okay? then what will happen, huh?" you frantically monologued, word-vomiting everything. once you realized what you had done, you felt all the heat in your body rise in your head and you suddenly felt lightheaded.

"i'll tell you what'll happen, i'll pull you close like this." kidd grabbed your wrist as you crashed in his embrace. "have you in my arms. tell you that i feel the exact-fucking-way. and this, is the part where i kiss you." he leaned in close pressing his lips to yours, that's where your heart fucking stopped and your breathing became irregular. his lips tasted like rum and raspberry, the latter taste must be from the lipstick you gifted him back then.

"come on now captain, you're not the only one she confessed to, right?" killer interrupted. "give me a chance to say i love you too."

kidd smiled through the kiss, pulling away. "you okay with being shared?" he joked as you got even redder before he handed you to killer. "make it fast, i might not contain myself and make out with the both of you."

killer first removed his helmet, you've seen him before without it but god was he like a goddamn greek god with those eyes and cheekbones. killer held you by your waist while his other hand was at the back of your head under your hair, "i'm gonna kiss you now, that okay?" he asked, searching for any denial in your eyes but all he saw was utter anticipation and need. you nodded, closing your eyes. his lips tasted like peach and whiskey.

it was sublime. you didn't sleep in your bed that night and let's also say you three did other things than sleep.

hellooooo thank you for introducing yourself 🌷 hope this is okay for you?? i realized why not both?? both is good?? LMAO I LOVE THIS SM THANKS FOR THE REQ 🥰

#anime #manga #one piece #eustass kidd #cha writes #one piece headcanons #one piece x reader #eustass kid #eustass x reader #eustasscaptainkid #one piece eustass kid #eustass captain kidd #eustass kid x reader #eustass kidd x y/n #eustass kidd x you #eustass kidd headcanons #eustass kidd x reader #eustass kid x you #eustass kid x y/n #eustass kid headcanons #massacre soldier killer #kid and killer #kidd and killer x reader #killer x reader #killer x you #killer x y/n #one piece kidd #one piece killer #one piece x female reader #one piece kid

[soundspeachytome]

our future lives - shohei ohtani soft au

trope: childhood best friends to strangers

word count: 5.9k words

author notes: (this will be a bit long so if you want to jump straight to the fic, go right ahead!)

I wrote this in retrospect to the days i spent with my high school newspaper publication team. Recently,  an old friend and org mate from the school newspaper (who i have not spoken to in years) followed me on instagram and it took me down memory lane.

This was a time when a boy who (coincidentally enough, also played for a sports team) used to read drafts of my silly stories and poems of fictional heartbreak and would compliment my writing all the time. He was my best friend until he wasn’t.

This was when everything was awkward, confusing and unsettling; when I didn’t believe love could blossom beyond friendship. And when it was already right in front of me, I chose to run away.

With Shohei Ohtani as my current muse, I write this to close the what ifs our high school memories have left us. And when love finally visits us once again, instead of running away, maybe, just maybe, we’d be able to look at it straight in the face and say, "welcome, I hope you enjoy your stay."

Songs i listened to while writing: (repeatedly, repulsively, and obsessively)

Right where you left me - taylor swift (evermore)

Shouldn’t be - luke chiang

You are in love - taylor swift (1989)

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

==============================

I didn’t feel anything at first but when realization sank, I almost doubled over. A familiar feeling punctured somewhere on the middle of my chest, like a pounding, beating of a drum. While an economics faculty was waiting for me to check out her library card, she chatted animatedly with her colleague and I couldn’t help but eavesdrop. When the words “homecoming”, and “shohei ohtani” were mentioned in one sentence, I almost dropped the books on the professor’s feet.

“I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation… Did you say Shohei Ohtani is coming back…?” I croaked.

“Yes! It’s on the news everywhere. He’s attending his former school’s foundation anniversary as a baseball alum.” She hushed excitedly. She almost looked like she was blushing. 

“Professor, didn’t you graduate from Rosewood High School, too?” 

She and her friend looked at me expectantly, like I’m some sort of Bingo announcer about to shout their magic winning number. I nodded slowly, a small smile formed my lips.

“Wow! You and Shohei Ohtani were schoolmates, then! Were you in the same year?”

“Has he always been so tall?”

“Did he have any girlfriends back then?”

The pair of them launched their questions like an automatic rifle, I swung albeit defensively, and yet I couldn’t duck myself for cover in time.

I shrugged and quietly said, “I didn’t really know him that much, he was always just playing baseball, I guess.” 

Before they could respond, I pushed my thick-rimmed glasses back to the bridge of my nose and went back to my Excel spreadsheets. They said their thank yous and skipped their way out of the library. 

Finally, quiet again. 

Like every typical librarian, one glare from me could snap chatty visitors’ mouths at an instant. I reveled in the silence of my humble workplace, with shelves taller than any average person, filled with books old and new. I could spend hours in the silence, tapping on my computer archives, or shelving books from the returned pile. This is the job of my dreams. Customary, routine, familiar, comfort zone.  

I realized that I have been tapping the letter Y key from the keyboard, lost in thought. I couldn’t believe the words I heard earlier could ever be strung in one sentence, not even in my wildest dreams. I tapped my legs restlessly. It couldn’t be true, could it?

How many popular Shohei Ohtanis could make girls this flustered?

There’s a one-hundred one percent chance that the result is, well, one. 

To preserve my peace of mind, I decided to google him, and when the results showed the rumor to be true, I almost spiraled in my seat. 

Did you know Shohei Ohtani in high school? The words from the two professors rang in my head. 

I knew damn well who Shohei Ohtani is.

Shohei and I have been friends since the day we learned how to talk. We lived on the same block, sat together in class, shared snacks during recess, we’d bicker loudly and fight like the worst of all enemies. According to our mothers, when he pulled my hair after I had claimed his Spiderman lego toy,  I screamed so loud it could be heard two houses down the block. He felt so guilty about it and rushed to peck me on the cheeks so I’d stop bawling. Not sure how accurate our mothers’ anecdotes are, if they had been exaggerated or not, but they said, after that fight, little Shohei had treated the little me sweeter after that. 

On good days, we played swings in the playground. We walked home together and would visit each other’s houses to play board games and Bomberman until it was no longer comfortable to stay in each other’s bedrooms without getting weird ideas.

Upon reaching puberty, I had grown in breast size, started getting my periods and hormonal mood swings while Shohei had grown a foot taller and his shoulders stretched widely. He lost his baby fat and developed muscle definition after playing sports. It was a time in our lives when it was officially awkward to hold hands while crossing the street, or for him to playfully grab me by the neck. If we did, we would get notes from the schoolmaster for indecency.

It wasn’t only the skinship that changed. Shohei grew to be more popular with the girls when he performed well in high school baseball. He was tall, fit, respectful and most importantly, he had a kind smile that would make your heart do a tap dance. And so my heart wore dancing shoes everyday.

While Shohei was busy playing his ball games, I joined the school paper as a news writer. The club meetings took up most of my afternoons then when i used to spend it by waiting for Shohei. By the time he finished practice, I would still be in the school library, either my face buried in a stack of books, or fingers furiously tapping an article on my laptop.

“You can go first. I don’t think I can go home yet, not unless this article writes itself.” I said one afternoon, not looking up. I was preparing an article for the school sports festival, where Shohei was the third-year representative and captain. I heard him walk up to me and braced myself. Tap tap tap.

He set his gym bag and batting equipment on the table and sat on the chair beside me.

“I’ll wait.” He said calmly. He crossed his arms over the table and closed his eyes, as if to sleep. He sat there in silence, baking in the sounds of my keyboard smashing my unnerving thoughts and emotions. 

Suffice to say, I didn’t get anything done after that. The smell of soap and cologne crept up to my nose and his broad shoulders lightly touched mine. Him sitting so innocently with his head on the table was enough of a distraction. It also didn’t help that on my periphery, I knew that he was facing my direction. In the next three minutes or so, I allowed myself to stare at his face: bags under his eyes were slowly showing, his well-defined nose, his mouth slightly agape, with evidence of picking and biting the lower lip skin.

When he startled awake, I scrambled to close the laptop monitor so loudly I thought I had cracked the screen. Embarrassed and face probably beet red, I stood up to leave. He carried all of my bags that day. When I offered to carry his gym bag, he refused.

In the last few weeks of that semester, I had become interim editor-in-chief. Shohei’s games had ended and our deadline for the year-end publication drew nearer. That meant I had made the library my second home like a bridge troll, only allowing brief, important conversations. My entire table was covered with mock newspaper clippings, sample layouts, glue, stacks and stacks of drafts that went through multiple, desperate, bloody revisions. This and the rest of my academic subjects I balanced gingerly on a thin line. Shohei would continue to visit and wait by the other corner of the library, pretending to read mystery thriller books he picked from the shelves. Most of the time, he slept. I never saw him study, even in the library. He didn’t need to as he aces all his subjects while hitting home runs on the field. I always suspected that he astral projects in his sleep and studies inside the realm of dreams. That’s probably why no matter how much he slept, he was still constantly tired. 

In other words, Shohei always seemed like he never had to try. He was good at everything. And I always had to work hard just to be able to stand on the same playing field as he is, at least once or twice. 

One particular day, when afternoon classes were canceled to give way to the club meetings, I was in my usual spot in the library with Zumi, our layout artist and a third-year from class B. We were finalizing the layout design before submitting it to the publishing house. Shohei was in baseball practice and had been MIA from the library all week.

A group of girls suddenly filled the library.

“He’s not here!” I heard one of them say. They noticed Zumi and I chatting quietly in the corner. 

“Hey, you’re Y/N right?” A girl with jet black hair siad. Her skin was white as porcelain. She had retainers on, the ones that looked unfairly pretty on lucky pretty girls.

I nodded.

“Are you Ohtani’s girlfriend?”

“Excuse me?” I blurted out, eyes almost popping out of my eye sockets.

She chuckled. “Right? I couldn’t believe it myself too. I know Ohtani only sees you as his best friend.”

I couldn’t respond right away. It was true but why did it sting so much?

“But they’re always together, I saw her give him a lunchbox during breaks.” A petite girl with a wolf haircut emerged from the sides. She had her arms crossed and an eyebrow raised. 

The rest of the group murmured in unison.

“Our mothers are close friends, so it was natural for us to grow up being friends, too.” I said irritably. Not only was this irrelevant but it was so annoying that a bunch of girls would question her decade-long friendship. 

“I don’t have to spell out the dynamics of our friendship to you.”

“If that bothers you so much, why don’t you personally tell Ohtani’s mother to stop asking me to bring his lunch boxes for him.”

It was quiet for a few seconds. I was afraid that it would escalate into a screaming match or a brawl that could result in us being kicked out–or worse, banned–from the library. The herd of girls glared at me and I glared right back. 

“Um, a-as you can see, he is not here.” Zumi breaks the silence, clearly intimidated but she soldiers on. “And you’re disrupting our meeting.” 

The first girl gives me a pointed look and spins on her heel and the rest follows. 

Zumi sighed in relief. “Oh my god, Y/N, I thought I would experience my first visit to the schoolmaster’s office before graduation.” She rubbed her sweaty palms together. 

I stifled a giggle, anger fading. Zumi’s gentle personality softened me right away. I couldn’t help but smile at her. 

“Don’t worry, Zumi, we don’t start fights but we sure as hell can end them.”

Shohei and I met less and less after that. I had purposely avoided him as much as I could because I still felt upset and he didn’t even have a vague idea about other girls spreading rumors about us. Another reason was I didn’t want to be referred to as “Shohei’s female best friend” anymore. His growing popularity in school made me only slink back down to the pits of the social hierarchy. 

I also wanted to take some time away and contemplate my feelings about our friendship. He’s only a friend I grew up with. We shared meals together and walked home together. He would hug me when I’m upset and I would console him when his anger skyrocketed. These are common best friend behaviors, right? So why else would it suddenly change? Why don’t we ever stay like this forever?

Weeks after my so-called Shohei blackout, I was left alone to clear the table I had claimed in the far corner of the library when Shohei popped in to visit.

The school year had finally come to a close, exams and ball games concluded, and the year-end paper was now distributed to everyone on campus: Shohei’s team pictured on the front page headline, declared as the year’s champions in inter-high school level.

He had a copy of the newspaper in his hand, grinning.

“Nice article, Y/N.” 

“Is it nice because it had your winning face covering the entire spread?” 

“I mean, you finally got an article on the front page!” He was waving the paper to you, pointing at the byline, as if you’ve never seen the layout more than a hundred times already. “Written by– your name! How cool is that!”

“My name is in a tiny font under your 32 font-size on the headline. I promise you, it’s not a big deal.”

“It is for me, though. I read it word for word. I loved it. You’re so good at words, Y/N” his eyes crinkled at the sides and I waved him off, blushing. 

“I’ve seen enough of this newspaper, I think I’m going to be nauseous.” you faked a retching sound.

“I’ve started seeing that damn thing in my dreams, Sho.” You grimaced. “Please hide that from me. Or I will rip it into shreds.”

Shohei giggled boisterously. You immediately swiped your hands over his mouth.

“Sshh! The librarian will hear you!” You looked around nervously, relaxing after realizing the librarian was nowhere in sight. “I don’t want to get kicked out on our last day of school.”

He held your arms away and uncovered his mouth from your hands. “Seriously, though, I’m proud of you. You worked so hard for this all semester.”

“Well, the subject was interesting to write about.” 

“Is that right?” he smiled, mischief glinted in his eyes. 

“”Rosewood’s revival after years of being dormant in high school baseball” was a pretty cool angle to write.” I said. And it truly was. The moment I saw the efforts and hardwork of Shohei and his inspiring leadership setting a momentum into the games, I knew right away that I had to call dibs on the story. 

“Uh-huh.” He was just looking at me, hands still wrapped around my arms, locking me in place. 

“It was a story worthy to tell and I just happened to tell the story. It all just–” I tried to mash my hands together, demonstrating the words synonymous to merging, fusing, blending. 

He pulls me close and rests his hand at the back of my neck. I could feel the snug of his embrace melting me into a puddle. He hesitates but leans in. It was soft, abrupt and merely testing the waters. He pulled back slightly to look at my reaction. I didn’t know what I looked like, but what I did know at that moment, my heart bounced uncontrollably like a basketball. I swear I thought it would burst my chest open. 

When I didn’t react or push him back, he leaned in for another try, this time, with more intent, meaning, and weight on my lips. When we parted, he looked away sheepishly that all I had to do in response to the kiss was to pull him in a tight hug. We stayed like that for a few more minutes because neither of us knew when to let go, or even wanted to. We just stood there relishing our newfound warmth while concealed in between the quiet and that precious corner space that held us. I don’t know how to define this feeling yet… but I could get used to this.  

Nothing further ever happened after that sweet library moment because the next day, we received news that Shohei Ohtani was granted a full scholarship overseas. Thanks to his impressive performance during the last game. Ohtani joked that it was mainly because my frontpage piece was so well-written, it moved the university scouts’ ice-cold hearts to tears.

“You’d be an idiot not to go.”  I was at the kitchen counter of our home, setting the newly baked chocolate chip cookies out of the oven to cool down. It was a Saturday morning and Shohei visited, like any other day. 

“I’d be alone, though.” he was wistfully eyeing the cookies on the wire rack. “I’m scared I might fail and be a disappointment to my dad.”

His arm slowly reached for the cookies but I immediately swatted him away.

“It’s still hot, dumbass.” I gave him the bowl where the cookie dough was originally mixed. He dutifully scooped the remains and popped a finger in his mouth, he grinned, satisfied. 

“You won’t be alone because everybody likes you. And you won’t be a disappointment because you work twice as hard than everyone else. You’re Shohei Ohtani, for god’s sake.”

He doubted but I knew what he was thinking because I was trying not to think about it, too. If this was about the kiss, we can let it go. We can forget about it. It was just a kiss, this was our future and it shined brightly in front of him. It would make me a selfish person to try and block that from him.

“There won’t be a Y/N there, though.” he said, eyes trained to the cookie dough he held. “My best friend won’t be there.”

“I’ll be right here when you come back. Besides, we can always email each other, like we always did in computer class.”

I didn’t tell him this but it also broke my heart to say those words. I will definitely miss him, sure. He’s been a constant presence in my life that once he leaves, it would definitely leave a big hole in my life. 

I wanted to tell him that whatever happened in the library that day will always be etched in my memory as long as I lived, that I wanted it as much as he did, and it hurt to say goodbye to a possibility, to something that had barely even started. If I had told him that, he would’ve turned down the offer right away.

So I didn’t, and so he left. 

Ohtani and I would email constantly during our very first year in uni. He would send me pictures of the new places he visited, food he tasted, with little descriptions every now and then. You knew he was trying to include me in his new life as much as he could. In return, I showed him how I continued my simple, quiet life, how I met new friends at uni, how I ate at new hole-in-the-wall restaurants with the promise that we’d try them out when he returned back home.

Of course that didn’t last very long as life apparently came in between us. Long training hours for Shohei, and newer opportunities showed up in my doorstep as I got a partial scholarship and part-time job as a student assistant.

It went on like that for a very long time as we kept missing each other’s emails. I would already be asleep when he sends his messages and he’d be out in the field by the time I could reply. Sometimes I don’t receive anything at all at weeks’ a time.

One day, after two weeks of radio silence, I heard a girl in the washroom gush about Ohtani’s popularity overseas and how he has gotten a girlfriend. They were pretty serious, she would go on to say. She had long black hair with a pretty slender body, something like his type. 

I stood there, hands dripping wet, listening to something I normally wouldn’t believe unless he confirmed it himself. The thing is, I haven’t heard from him in weeks, so I didn’t have a choice but to believe in the words from the grapevine.

I stopped waiting for his emails to come. If he sent me new ones, I didn’t check. I busied myself in the halls of the library studying, reading and writing, writing and writing my feelings away.

I wrote until my hands got tired, until I spilled everything I needed to forget into paper. Until I welcomed a new love into my life. He was also tall, kind, and cheerful. He respected my time and he loved going to new coffee shops with me. At that point, I was overfilled with joy and contentment that I barely thought about Shohei anymore. In the back of my mind, the chapter of Shohei Ohtani is now closed and my rosy high school life became a beloved, worn out book that I no longer revisited.

Later I learned in life that some things, despite making you undoubtedly happy, could still end horribly.

My relationships turned sour, some of my friendships fell out, but the worst part of it all was when my dad had a heart attack. 

He died six months later. 

It was pretty much autopilot after that. I could only ever handle so much, I don’t think I am as brave as Joan D’arc to handle ten, twenty more scars. Not when two of the best people I loved have left my life. Not when the person I want to run the most to is… no longer there to meet me. 

I was a student intern at the archives section when the post for head librarian was vacated. I’ve already applied to multiple companies in the private and public sectors and kept getting waitlisted but the university hired me on the spot. A week after graduation, I had started my full-time job at the library, and it felt like I was somehow glued back together.

XXX

The cans of beer clinked together as I swayed the black plastic on my way home from the convenience store. Nothing beats a cold can of beer after a full meal. Also because “Shohei Ohtani” is a name I never thought I’d hear again in this lifetime. So much so, that a homecoming sounded so ridiculous that if someone ever suggested that idea to me before today, I would have laughed at their faces. It was an appropriate time to wallow in my drunken thoughts.

Four years was a long time for anyone to change. It was long enough to switch jobs, get promoted, to save up money and travel, to save up money and get married and have kids, or none at all, to study for a new degree, to meet new people and develop romantic feelings for them, to lose such romantic feelings, to forgive and move on, to develop new habits, and it is also long enough for character development if you think your personality needed an overhaul. Four years was a long time apart, a long time to forget each other to even be considered taboo. And yet. 

And yet. 

XXX

My phone buzzed against my jeans pocket. It was a text from Zumi. She now works freelance and designs her own stationery and stickers sold at mega discount stores all over the country.

“You wouldn’t believe what I just heard.” Zumi texted. Even before she could conjure a follow-up text, I responded right away.

Y/N: “Someone’s coming back to town?...”

Zumi: “WUT.”

Zumi: “U KNEW? AND DIDN'T TELL ME #betrayal”

Y/N: “I heard about it a couple of days ago and blacked out after 3 cans of beer. Sorry, Joomi-chan.”

Y/N: “I didn’t drink only because of the news, though. I ate almost 2 KGs of wagyu, too. It was the perfect drink to end the day.”

Y/N: “I ate ice cream, too."

Y/N: “I’m rambling. I”ve been restless since I heard about it.”

Y/N: “I’ll be okay, though. I always have been.”

I was about to put my phone down after the text blasts I sent to assure her when text bubbles appeared. Typing. I waited.

Zumi: “It’s alright to admit you’re not okay about this, Y/N”

Zumi: “He was a big part of your life, who ghosted you, asshole move btw, and his head’s probably gotten too big for his own good. I wonder how he walks around with that swollen head without toppling over.

Zumi: “Also, I’m only saying all of this because my role as Y/N’s only best friend is currently being threatened. I forgive you though!”

I had to laugh. Zumi was always fond of Ohtani and I even back in high school. Whenever she had time, she would join us on our katsu curry runs and hated matcha, while Ohtani and I loved it. She always preferred strawberry. She was the perfect balance in our little trio. And now, she is my voice of reason.

I paused to reread the text. Am I really okay about this? It’s a fairly small town, the chances of running into him are slim, but never zero. And what if I do meet him by chance, what should I do?

Zumi: “Text me when you feel like drinking again. I’ll sneak out and join you in solidarity!” 

Before I could send the cutest peach butt sticker to Zumi, a message from an unregistered number popped up on my notifications.

“Hi, Y/N. It’s Shohei Ohtani. I got your number from your mom. I’m sorry for being abrupt like this but I just flew back from the States and will be spending a few days at home.

Do you want to meet up for some curry katsu for old time's sake?”

Holy hell, I stared at the messages in disbelief. Am I being punked right now? Where is the hidden camera? If the universe is listening right now, please, swallow me whole into the earth right now. 

I clenched the phone hard, against my chest. You are better now. Don’t fumble. 

Tap tap tap.

XXX

I don’t know what had gotten into my head that when I responded a few hours later, had agreed to meet up after work for curry and drinks. Future me would like to smack past me of five hours ago for making a decision like this. 

But here I am now, just a few stores away from the curry place I had suggested for dinner. 

Suddenly feeling conscious, I stopped by a convenience store that had a convex mirror on top of the corner shelves. I swiped lipstick on my lips and powdered my nose. I also bought mints just to play for time. I worked up the courage to text Zumi.

Y/N: So, please tell me I’m doing the wrong thing and I will turn back.

Zumi: What happened?

Y/N: After we texted earlier, Shohei texted me out of the blue and that he’s already in the town.

Zumi: He WHAT???

Zumi: Are you telling me he asked to meet up and you said yes?

Y/N: You should switch careers and be a fortune teller instead.

Zumi: You WHAT???

Y/N: Pls, pls, pls tell me I’m wrong for doing this.

She didn’t respond right away. Her text bubbles went up and down infrequently. I stood outside of the restaurant, in the cold of the night waiting for her response.

Zumi: How do YOU feel about it?

Zumi: If I were you, I, who have witnessed all the carnage all these years, I would do it. I know if you turn your back now, you’d spend another four, five years wondering what would’ve happened if you chose differently. 

Zumi: Don’t try to rationalize it, Y/N. You’re panicking now. But I know in your heart, you want answers. You want this. So suck it up and be a big gworl! 

She resonated exactly how I felt about this. So why was I hesitating?

I walked up to the restaurant and scanned the room. It was almost empty after dinner hours, except for a few white collar workers catching up on late night meals.

And then I saw him. He sat at the back of the room, his back facing the front of the shop. I could recognize those wide shoulders anywhere in a heartbeat. I made a beeline towards him.

He wore a blue polo buttoned up to his chest, creasing at the shoulders as he slouched forward. He looked absolutely different from the memory of the boy who used to carry my bags. His hair grew into thick waves and his cheeks and jawline was chiseled and defined to the bone, revealing more of his handsome face.

He stood up, smiling widely and threw his hands around me, a whiff of his sandalwood perfume and the feel of his hair pressed to my cheek brought everything back: spending lazy days in the library, the night strolls on the way home from school, sharing twin popsicle ice creams, the warmth of his hands intertwined with mine, that last first kiss. I pulled away and he gestured to me to sit down. As we both sat down, I thought, You are always finding ways to get my hopes up. 

We stared at each as I settled down on my seat. For a few moments, I felt the room was charged with cold air. His eyes traced my face making me more and more self-conscious, I had to break the ice. 

“The chicken curry katsu is good here, you know.” I said, as a waiter approached and served us water. “But if you prefer pork, it’s heaven too.”

I sipped the cold water nervously and fidgeted the hem of my plaid skirt. 

“It’s been a while.” I started.

“I’ve been busy.” He started to explain. I hate how he thinks this was his decision, how he didn’t even consider the fact that I’ve been busy, too. “How about you? I’ve stopped hearing about you since…”

“Things happened.” I simplified, but really, I wanted to give him a rundown of how things have more or less worked out okay for me–how I am doing well at my job, taking my Masters, thinking about traveling to Southeast Asia with Zumi, spending time with family on weekends, trying to do pilates at least thrice a month, and catching up with some old friends whenever we got to clear our schedules. How I am, despite his absence, was not entirely miserable. But I don’t want him to think that I am just doing this to prove a point, so I coated a response with the standard, “But I’ve been fine, thanks. How are you?”

“Same old, I’m here for business and something else. I finally got the courage to tell you this now.” He said, finishing up the last of his meal and downing his glass of water before speaking again.

I honestly don’t want to know, I want to order another glass of beer and fall asleep drunk. I want to crawl into my bed and waddle in self-pity at how I’ve spiraled back to square one, of how after all these years, I am still hopelessly in love with this unattainable man, who thinks we are still each other’s best friends after years of no contact. Instead I responded cautiously, “What is it?”

He inched forward and leaned his face on his right hand. “There’s this girl.”

I held my breath and braced myself for impact. 

“There’s this girl. We almost always never stood on the same foot. She hated sports and hated standing in the sun to see me play, but watched regardless because she had to write an article about it.

“When we finally started realizing we liked each other, I received my scholarship grant and moved overseas. If she got mad about me going MIA, I could've explained better to her that I had an accident during Spring training and was in a hospital bed for almost a month. Had she checked her emails, she would know. But she never replied. Ever.

“After a few months, I heard from our friends that she finally got a boyfriend and was in a happy, healthy relationship. I thought, ‘Oh. Good for her! I'm happy for her. Someone near to take care of her.’ but was I really, though? I got myself a girlfriend, too and forgot about this girl for a while.

“But I heard about her dad’s passing and I tried to reach her but I couldn’t. Her home phone number was disconnected, my mom said they moved out of the block and she still won’t respond to my emails.

“I couldn’t be there for her but I thought, “she'd be with her boyfriend. She’ll have someone to lean on. But then her friends said they had broken up long before the incident. She carried all those baggage all by herself? Who did she have to lean on? Was she eating okay? Was she sleeping well? Does she still smile when she watches puppies run around bumping into things?

“It seemed like the timing was never on our side. She was available when I wasn’t, I was free on the days that she was occupied. 

“I’ve always wondered if the universe played some practical joke on the two of us. If somehow, they'd ever allow me the chance to meet her again. I’ve been waiting for her for a long time now.

“Y/N, do you think if I ask her now, she’d finally be as ready as I am to meet her?”

I exhaled and felt my heart pounding. There is the thrum in my chest that felt all too familiar. Have we been missing each other’s chances all this time? Have I been getting on and off the wrong platform, just as much as he did, because we didn’t know what we wanted when we were barely twenty?

“I think you should ask her before it’s too late.” I said, catching myself, still staying on that third person narration. I mulled over the times we constantly missed each other like he had pointed out. He had been there for me when I was searching for myself and what I wanted to do, and I had watched him from afar when he was trying to meet his dreams, to the point of pushing him far away. 

“I’m asking you now. I was always late, wasn’t I?”

His brown eyes bored into mine, expectant, hopeful. “Yes. You were...but you’re here now..." I trailed off, thinking how much shock I was to hear Shohei's speech. I wondered if responding to my real feelings was the right thing to do. He had his accident, my dad's funeral, the miscommunication between us. The sudden falling out. I wondered, if after all this time, someone like me would still be worth restarting over with.

"...and I think, you’re just in time, Sho.” 

He smiled widely, showing the crinkles on the sides of his eyes, he exhaled as if he had been holding his breath all this time.

"Thank god. I was almost certain you'd say no and disappear on me again." he laughed.

Freckles that I've never seen before popped over his nose and cheeks. So much has changed in his appearance but it was the same smile of the boy I love since eighteen.

“I’m home,” he whispers.

“Welcome back,” I said, finally smiling at him, too.

Shohei stands up and offers his hand as we exit the restaurant; I take it and interlace our fingers. For the first time in a long time, the tap dancing of my calloused heart has returned ever so exhilarating, like a lost pulse bringing me back to life. We are catching up on lost time, and for whatever fragment of memory that may have escaped through the cracks, we’ll slowly string them together. It doesn’t matter how many possibilities we’ve missed in the last four years of being apart. The important thing is this possibility, the right here and right now.

#shohei ohtani #shohei ohtani au #shohei ohtani imagines #shohei ohtani pov #shohei ohtani soft hours #soft spot for #high school shohei #i'm not so confident about this one #but i hope everyone likes how it ended #thank you for reading! <3

[miniteezez]

As fate would have it.

K.Hongjoong x fem reader

Synopsis: hongjoong can't help but love you but feel so insecure in himself.

Warnings: hj is insecure and a little angry . Swearing . He's also whipped.

It was obvious to everyone who saw. Anyone with working eyes could see that hongjoong was besotted with you. The soft smile, calm features, tilted head, and rosy cheeks. There was no denying it. However, he couldn't have you, and he knew that. Every girl he'd ever met loved tall guys. Men over six feet with long legs and torsos. Sure, he wasn't an ant. But to most, he was on the shorter side. Yes, maybe you were smaller than him. But you probably didn't care. You would reject him. So, he stayed as your best friend. His heart paining with every shared hug, encounter, or conversation. The boys told him he was wrong, that you definitely felt the same way. But he just couldn't believe that. Even if they were right.

Currently, everyone was hanging out at yunhos apartment. Yeosang walked in, a pile of pizza boxes in hand.

"I hope everyone is hungry." He laughed, setting them out on the coffee table. The group practically cheered, piling in to snatch a box. You grabbed one, putting it between you and joong.

"Wanna share?" You asked, already knowing the answer as it was the norm for you both. He smiled, nodding and opening the box before taking a slice. Everyone chatted idly as they ate, comfort in the air. You rested your head on joongs shoulder, and he felt his heart hammering. God, it was embarrassing, feeling so enamoured by your mere presence. He couldn't help it, though. Across the room, wooyoung and Seonghwa seemed to be arguing with mingi. Exasperated, the eldest turned to you.

"(Y/n), don't you think mingi has a nice smile?" The question threw you off guard, but you hummed non the less.

"Yes, it's pretty. Why?"

"See!" Wooyoung yelling, shaking the pink headed boy with no remorse. It took San and jongho to pry him off. You giggled, turning to look at hongjoong but found him with a deep frown.

"What's wrong, joongie?" He shrugged, Wetting his lips. That was the evidence he needed. Of course, you thought mingi was pretty. The man was six foot seven. OK, maybe that was an exaggeration, but his point still stood. Worried, you put your hand on his arm only for him to shrug you off. Now hurt. You looked around for help. Seonghwa noticed his friends foul mood and winced internally. He didn't think hongjoong would hear or even overthink your compliment that much.

"Hongjoong?" Gazing at hwa, he pulled away from you entirely and stood up.

"Wait, where are you going?" Your voice fell on deaf ears as hongjoong gathered all his things.

"Dont ignore her. Where are you going, man?" Yunho sounded slightly annoyed by his friends behaviour. Rolling his eyes, joong looked at him with a bored expression. Clearly, there was pain behind his eyes.

"Home. Do you have a problem with that?" He spat before leaving briskly. It was silent for a moment, everyone shocked. Your shoulders drooped, playing with your fingers nervously.

"What did I do?" Hearing your sad voice, Yeosang quickly came to your side and wrapped his arm around you.

"Nothing at all. I promise."

"Yeah, I think he's just got a lot on his mind." Wooyoung was the one to cover for him. They all knew of his crush, so they all knew why he was angry. Mingi even felt slightly guilty. Though they all agreed, he needed to man up and ask you out.

About a week later, you found yourself waiting for hongjoong to arrive. The gang was going on a road trip and, at the time, he was quick to partner with you as a travel buddy. You hadn't spoken since he stormed out, and that left a weight in your chest. Was he still angry? Would he ignore you? You knew he was coming because seonghwa had texted to let you know he was on his way. But still. You were nervous. When a knock sounded from your door, you quickly heaved your bag up with difficulty and opened it. Hongjoong looked at you, trying to appear neutral, but that all faded when he saw you struggling.

"You're going to hurt yourself." He muttered, taking the bag from you carefully. You, on the other hand, were frozen. He looked so good. For a start, his hair was freshly dyed blue, straight yet fluffy on his head. His brow held a slit and he'd changed out his lip ring for a solid, black steel one. And his outfit? A baggy black Chrome Hearts hoodie was unzipped, showing of his white and tattered band t-shirt. He also donned black, ripped jeans that clung to his thighs before flaring out, along with Converse. How was he so attractive? Cheeks red, you bowed your head nervously.

"Ready to go?" He asked, placing his hand on the small of your back and leading you to his car. Nodding quickly, you hopped in the passenger side whilst he threw your bag in the back. Once he was inside, hongjoong started the car and set off.

"You can connect your phone. It's a long drive." Doing just that, you put your choice of music on and bobbed your head absentmindedly. Surprisingly, you both talked as usual. As if nothing had happened last time. You didn't mind, however, feeling relaxed by his normal demeanour.

Stopping off at a service station, you both headed inside and went off to use the bathroom. Meeting up outside a small store, you went in and picked up some food for the rest of the journey. Whilst picking your chocolate, a rather large man stormed past, knocking you harshly. Stumbling, you fell right into hongjoongs chest. Startled, you looked round confused.

"Oi!" Hongjoong yelled, alerting the man. He turned back with a gruff expression, scaring you slightly. Naturally, you clung onto joong tightly, grounding yourself.

"Watch where the fuck you're going!" You'd never seen him this aggressive before. You'd be lying if you said it wasn't attractive. The man, shocked at being called out, bowed and quickly scuttled away. Hongjoong shook his head in annoyance before looking down at you.

"You okay angel?" Blushing, you nod and smiled reassuringly. He grinned, petting your head affectionately. After paying and stepping outside, you both noticed the ways the sky had darkened and the weather had turned.

Back in the car, you snacked on some chocolate, staring out the window. Rain fell from the sky, pattering on the windscreen rhythmically. It was only light but hongjoong could tell it was only going to get worse.

"Do you Want one joongie?" You asked, shaking the bag lightly. Once he nod, he opened his mouth ready. You giggled, feeding him a few of your chocolates. Suddenly, there was a flash of lightning in the distance, followed by thunder a way off.

"I guess there's a storm ahead. Make sure your window is rolled up OK?" Hongjoong said, making you check immediately. At that time, you were driving down a narrow road, surrounded by a vast nothingness. There was no other cars around either. Settling back in your seat, you noticed the rain come down harder by the second. The windshield wipers were working overtime, hardly making the view any better. Becoming anxious, you stared out whilst gnawing on your lip. It didn't look at though it would let up anything soon. Sensing your worry, hongjoong reached over and laced your fingers together.

"Its okay, don't worry so much. I'm here." His words comforted you, holding onto his hand with a slight grip. As you continued along, you found yourself toying with his fingers absentmindedly. He didn't mind, liking that he could keep you calm. Suddenly, the car seemed to dip before bouncing back dramatically. You both yelped, the car coming to a screeching halt. When hongjoong tried the key, the engine made a noise of protest and you felt your stomach drop.

"Fuck..." Hongjoong cursed, teeth tugging on his lip ring. Pulling his hood over his head, he got out and checked all around the vehicle. Upon inspection, he saw his tires ruined and the engine not looking its Sunday best. Practically throwing himself back inside, hongjoong put his soaked hoodie aside before pulling out his phone.

"Theres no signal. The storm must be knocking it out." He looked at you apologetically, dropping his phone aside.

"We'll have to wait it out. I'm sorry."

"Dont be sorry. Its not your fault." You reassured, smiling kindly. Hongjoong seemed to relax a little at that.

"I'll message seonghwa tomorrow. Hopefully he'll come tow us." You hummed in understanding, looking outside with a mellow expression. Without the car on, the heating was obviously not in use.

"Its freezing." Seeing as joong had to forgo his jacket, the man was now shaking.

"I packed a blanket?" You remembered, climbing into the back. He quickly followed, helping you get it out. You gave it to him and sat aside, leaving him confused.

"Come here. We can share." Hongjoong pulled you into his chest and pulled the blanket over the both of you. Relaxing, you snuggled against his chest, basking in the new warmth.

As you lay there, you thought back to the week previous. Hongjoong seemed so angry with you, the way he pushed you away still hurt. Obviously, within those few minutes you had said something to upset him, but what?

"Joong?" He looked down at you, smiling softly. His hand came up and brushed your hair back.

"Did I upset you last week? I'm sorry if I did. I promise I didn't mean to. You just seemed so angry." As you spoke, hongjoong felt his heart drop. He never meant for you to feel this way.

"No love. You didn't upset me." He sighed, avoiding your gaze. You didn't give up, keeping your focus on him.

"Its hard to say. I could lose you." When he said this, you frowned and took hold of his hand.

"You'll never lose me. I swear. Was it something I said?" Hongjoong bobbed his head, fingers interlocking. Wracking your brain over the moments before his outburst, your head tilted. In that moment, he thought you looked so cute.

"Was it, about mingi?" Again, he nod, looking out the rain spotted window.

"Your crush on him."

"I do not have a crush on mingi." You laughed, confused beyond belief.

"You said you did."

"No. I said he had a nice smile."

"Same thing." He countered, avoiding your gaze at all cost. Frowning, you sat up and stared at him.

"Why does it even matter?" You asked, head tilting slightly.

"It doesn't. It's stupid."

"Clearly it does. You're still upset now."

"Am not."

"Are definitely. Just tell me!"

"Because I know I can't have you!" Hongjoong snapped, making intense eyecontact. You froze slightly, letting his words sink in.

"I get it. Mingi is tall. He's handsome. He's cute. He's nothing like me. He's not short and weird and full of tattoos or peircings." He rambled on, one hand gripping the blanket with an intense anger. A deep frustration he'd buried within himself all these years, was finally making itself known to you.

"You deserve the world. You deserve so much. And I can't be that for you." As he poured his heart out, your eyes brimmed with tears. All this time you'd been pining after him, the feeling had been mutual. How had you not noticed? Hitting his chest lightly, hongjoong looked at you shocked.

"You're so stupid!" His eyes widened, not expecting you to say that.

"Why are you talking so badly about yourself? Are you blind?"

"Maybe?" He whispered, not understanding what you were saying.

"I love who you are. I love your look. I love your personality. You're perfect."

"But...I'm short." For a moment, you looked at him dumbly. Your brows creased in question.

"No you're not. You're perfect. Perfect for me. You're everything I need." His gaze softened, slowly reaching and pulling you back into his arms.

"Really?" You hummed, placing your hands on his chest comfortably. Finally, hongjoong smiled.

"Does that mean I can kiss you now?" You didn't answer him, taking it upon yourself to place your lips to his. Sighing in content, the male held you closer, deepening the kiss. Your hands cupped his cheeks as you pulled back and inhaled deeply.

"I've been waiting years to kiss you." He chuckled, hands rubbing your waist affectionately.

"Next time, just tell me. Dont storm out." Huffing slightly, Hongjoong poked your side jokingly.

"Lets forget about that OK? And no more calling mingi pretty." He spoke pointedly, causing you to giggle. Smirking, he sat up, holding your hips to keep you firmly on his lap. Hongjoong was still surprised, he couldn't believe you returned those strong feeling he'd been withholding.

"You're beautiful." Your face grew red with his sudden compliment. Shyly, you looked down, toying with the fabric of his shirt. He just chuckled, tilting your chin up slightly before pulling you back in for another kiss. You melted against him, arms coming to wrap around his neck. His tongue swept across your bottom lip, escalating the kiss to a lazy make out. Hands slipping beneath your jumper and finding your skin, he felt you shiver under his touch. You parted reluctantly, your thumb stroking just under the bar on his lip.

"We have a lot of time to make up for. Don't we angel?" Hongjoong spoke so softly, as if his voice could shatter you. You smiled, holding his face tentivley.

"I can't disagree with you on that."

#ateez fluff #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong #kim hongjoong

[mangekyuou]

Hi Hi Mange!!! I hope ya arent in a bad mood and ur having a good day cuz I got a request for u!

Ight so..

Can you please do platonic Monster Trio x teen! Reader?

The reader is cute and really bubbly and positive, always smiling and always laughing their problems away, so what happens if they see that innocent reader….fight for the first time and go into serious mode in a battle. The reader is all serious and cold when in battle,once they come back from it all bloodied and bruised but smiling and laughing as they walk away from the bodies behind them-

They were expecting the young one to be weak but they were wrong, so so wrong-

Anyways I hope you have a good life and thanks baiiiiii!!!!

⟡    ֺ   𓂂  headcanons  ,  with a bubbly crewmate who gets serious in battle.

✸     characters! . . .  luffy, zoro & sanji.

✸     cw(s)! . . .  platonic. brief mentions of blood. violence. no pronouns used. not proofread.

✸     notes! . . .  back on my best bro trio type shit. requests like this have my heart i swear. thank you so much for requesting !!

luffy is definitely the least surprised. he kind of always figured you had a strong side. he has a radar for things like this

yes he has a ‘you are probably a little scary when provoked’ radar

when a fight breaks out, luffy is already jumping into action, thinking about the consequences later

he just has a hunch that you are able to take care of yourself, but he doesn’t know just how strong you actually are

so when you emerge from the cloud of smoke with a few bruises, busted knuckles, and a smile alongside the small pile of bodies from the assholes you just beat up, he can’t help but be amazed by your strength

he thinks you’re even cooler than before

he wants you to teach him some of your moves so he can incorporate them into his own move set

that really cool dodge move up into a spinning roundhouse kick ?? you HAVE to teach him that or he’s going to bother you until you do

you’re unsure why the future pirate king would even want to learn some of your moves when he’s already really strong. but it makes you feel good that he does want to learn from you

zoro has a habit of basically adopting cute people, i.e. you and chopper

he doesn’t particularly think that you are ‘weak’ because he hasn’t seen you fight yet. 

but from your personality, he just can’t picture you being much of a fighter

oh boy, was he wrong

watching you literally tackle a guy twice your size and beat his face in was differently not on his bingo card

shocked is not even the word that comes to mind. it’s like you’re an entirely different person

after you wipe the blood from your nose with the back of your hand, you turn back into the sweet kid who is always smiling and laughing

seeing you practically skipped away from your victims over to him

when he’s over his shock, he asks you when you became so strong and where did you learn all of that

you probably don’t notice but a proud smile appears on his face as you recount your training, talking about all the guys you’ve beaten up even before you joined the crew

he’d love to fight alongside you next time

sanji has the biggest soft spot for you and wants to protect you from everything because you’re too pure for this world

despite you being a pirate just like him, in his eyes you do no wrong

but this one time, he couldn’t protect you, getting caught up in a fight of his own. when he finished his own battle, he looked around for you with all kinds of alarms sounding off his head

he finally spots you bruised and bleeding from your nose and a gash on the side of your head. but you stood tall, with your usual healing smile.

but at the sight of your condition, he’s panicked. he rushes to your side, trying to stop the bleeding

he’s so busy repeatedly asking if you’re okay, he hardly even notices the five or so enemies you took out by yourself

finally you point it out, pointing to the bodies that surrounded you. he doesn’t even want to believe it at first

the sweet ( y/n ), who he babied, fought all of these people ?? the sweet ( y/n ) who wouldn’t even hurt a fly ?? there was no way

he’d have to see it to believe it. and was he in for the shock of his life to see you with ease become serious and take down yet another group of enemies. all before turning back to him with a smile and a giggle

seeing you switch so easily between the two...it was...scary to him at first

he is proud of you for being able to protect yourself, but he still wants to be the one to protect you. he has a hard time letting it go

© MANGEKYUOU  —  do not copy, repost, or translate my works.

#one piece #monkey d. luffy #luffy #luffy x reader #roronoa zoro #zoro #zoro x reader #vinsmoke sanji #sanji #sanji x reader #one piece oneshots #one piece scenarios #one piece imagines #one piece headcanons #☆ — MY LOVE MINE ALL MINE.

[darshy]

pretty

Your mother’s face is all you see as she tells you about the new house. “New and exotic,” she says and her eyes sparkle. You like her sparkly eyes, so you repeat: “New and exotic.” 

She smiles, bright and pretty as always. Your brother coughs beside you and her smile hides behind the pinks of her lips.

“No, no, Kaju, be careful! Slow. In and out.” She exaggerates by adding a hand to her chest. Kaju watches, his chubby baby cheeks full and round, and he copies very slowly. You watch too, imitating with small movements. 

Your mother sees you and squints. “Not you, baby. You’re normal.” And then she turns back to Kaju, still squinting, her sparkly eyes gone.

You lean back into your car seat. Normal. Kaju is hurting, trying to breathe. Normal.

Kaju has something wrong with him. He coughs and maybe food comes out and Mom always says, “No Kaju! Slow now!” in sloppy English. Sometimes she speaks in Spanish, but she wants Kaju to learn a lot of English so he can be a doctor. You want to be a doctor too, but when you tell Mom, she loses her sparkle eyes and squints.

So, you think about being an artist. Mom likes your paintings of dogs and cats. You only have a few paintings because there’s not a lot of dogs in the countryside. Only long, tall grass and old trees. You try to paint the trees and the grass but Mom squints at them and Kaju does too. 

So dogs and cats are the best. You want a dog and a cat to pet and paint. They are the best.

“Mommy?” you ask as she prepares lunch. Her fingers are digging into rices and corns. She hums and her pretty face is glowing. “I want a dog.”

Her head tilts and she looks at you. Her eyes are wide and sparkly and you smile because she’s so pretty.

“Perro? A dog?” Her eyes go wider and she smiles.

Kaju is at the table in his high chair. He’s looking at you. You look back.

Kaju coughs just as you say you want a cat too. Mom goes to Kaju.

School is foreign, and as Mom likes to say, exotic. “It is great for you and Kaju. Education is well,” she said once, fully in English. She seems to learn more each time you come back from church. Her friends are kind to teach her.

But you frowned when you heard about school. Older kids in church grumbled about homework. You were scared of homework.

Not anymore though. When you make it back home from school, your first day, Mom smiles and Kaju smiles. You smile too because homework is so fun!

You and Mom and Kaju look at papers your teachers gave to you. You don’t understand much but Mom reads it quickly. “This is good, baby,” she says before pushing them back into a pile. Kaju says, “Baby, baby, baby!” You grin because Mom is so happy.

“And soon, Kaju will be with you.” Mom glances at him and curls his hair around her fingers. Kaju still chants ‘baby’ and you look at the papers.

“Oh, Mom,” you say and she hums, fingers still busy styling Kaju. “I want a dog and a cat.”

“Two?” Sparkle, sparkle, sparkle are her eyes.

“Yes. Please,” you say the new word ‘please’ that you learned in class and Mom smiles. 

“Kaju, do you want animals?” Mom asks him but he looks at you. His cheeks look a little smaller. He’s getting big.

“Dog! Cat! Baby!” he chants with glee. You feel glee too because you don’t think he’s coughed yet today. And that Mom is happy. And that homework is easy.

Homework is not easy when you’re walking a dog. Times tables jumble up your brain and Perro barks a lot, ruining your thought process. 

“Perro!” You whine and Perro gives you his big puppy eyes. “I gotta learn nines. Nine, eighteen, twenty—um…” You glance at your fingers to count again. 

Perro barks and tugs on the leash. “Perro!” you yell again. He’s a fat dog and pulls really hard and your wrist is all scratched up from his tugging.

He pulls more, barks, and the leash breaks. Perro runs across the street. You move to follow—there’s never cars—but you see someone standing in the tall grass. Perro trots up to him—a boy with white hair and shorts and a tank top. The boy extends a pale hand and Perro greedily slobbers all over it. He laughs and his head turns to you. He has dark sunglasses on.

“Perro!” you call rather weakly. It’s weird seeing someone your age around here. Of course, Perro doesn’t listen, and rubs his chunky body on the boy’s legs.

“I’m, I’m sorry,” you stammer and walk across the street. There’s an embarrassing heat in your cheeks and you don’t think it’s from the sun. But the boy tilts his head and gives you a smile. It’s pretty, like your Mom’s. 

“It’s okay. I like fat dogs. They are cute,” he says and he has an odd accent. You know you have an accent too, but his is different. Before, you were thinking he was from around here. 

You reach for Perro and hook the leash back in place. He huffs and finally turns around. 

“His name is Perro?” the boy asks out of nowhere. You blink. “Yeah.”

“Well, what does Perro mean?” he asks and it comes out snappy. You shrink a little backwards and look across the street. You want to leave. 

“It’s dog in Spanish.”

“Spanish,” he says just as you take a step. “Yeah,” you say rather lamely. But you don’t want to talk to him. He is odd and his hair is white and it’s all confusing. And as you take another step closer to the road, the boy is close to you. He—he’s so fast you didn’t even see him move.

“So that’s why you talk so weird.” He smiles and it’s not so pretty anymore. You feel a little offended and frown a bit. “You talk weird too,” you whisper and you see his eyebrows shoot up above the sunglasses.

“I’m on vacation,” he says with a cross of his arms, “I don’t live here. I’m not like you.”

“Then where are you from?” Curiosity takes over your mind. 

“Japan.”

“Japan?” you repeat and think about all you know about Japan. Well, nothing comes to mind except for a girl whose family vacations to Japan. She’s in your class and her name is Jessie.

“What! Don’t tell me you don’t know about Japan!” he says loudly but he doesn’t sound angry. “I’ve heard about Americans being dumb. I didn’t think it would transfer to immigrants.” You’re stunned and it seems Perro notices your mood change and begins to growl. The boy only smiles at you. Yeah, it’s definitely not a pretty smile.

“That’s so…” You don’t know what to say, and with embarrassment thrumming throughout your body, you turn around.

The boy’s laughter leaves your head a mess and you forget about homework.

“What is wrong, baby? You have been different,” Mom says next to you. Kaju is on the floor in front of her, scribbling on a piece of paper. Today is Saturday, the best day of the week.

Because there’s no school.

“Nothing.” You hum and continue your painting of Kaju. His face is a little flat today and he’s more pale than usual. He has been coughing a lot.

“Nothing?” Mom blinks at you. Her hands fidget. “Is it school?”

There’s really nothing bothering you. Middle school is just.. middle school. More homework, more classes, more people.

So: “Nothing, Mom.” You look at her and force a grin. Her shoulders sloop down and she smiles back. “Okay, baby.”

You resume your painting of Kaju. You highlight the tip of his nose, his forehead, his chin. You detail his fingers, his pencil, the scribbles he’s making on that paper.

Kaju coughs. You pause and glance at Mom. Her head is facing the window next to the couch. Kaju coughs again. You watch Mom. She is looking outside.

Kaju coughs and makes a strangled sound. Spit trickles down his front and he’s holding his neck. 

Mom turns and helps him then.

You close the front door behind you. Your painting is glossy in the sun as you lay it down on a small wooden bench. You can hear Kaju’s screaming. What you can’t hear is Mom. You don’t hear a gentle “slow, Kaju. In and out” from Mom. Just Kaju. And it’s never just Kaju.

You walk away from the house. You do your times tables of thirteen. You do it past one hundred. And when you focus back to the world, you realize you’ve crossed the street. Tall grass dangles around you and the wind curves them into waves.

“Hey,” a voice says from behind. You turn and blink wildly at that white haired boy from years ago. He’s most definitely taller and still wears dark sunglasses. It makes sense though. Arizona is hot.

Alas, you frown. “Why are you here?” you ask. 

He grins, boyishly. “I knew you were gonna be here.”

You tilt your head. “Huh? No way.”

His leg moves forward and yours moves back. His cheeks are tan and blushy. The grass tickles your knees. You want to leave.

“I’m on vacation again. You should come hang out at my house,” he says and jerks his head to the side, gesturing the direction of his home. You look on and see the endless green of trees and grass.

“I’m not allowed to leave,” you mutter. The boy shrugs. 

“It’s not far. And who cares about rules? I don’t.”

“Well, I do.” You wiggle your way through the grass and walk over to the dirt of the road. Rocks slide into your flip-flops and you cringe.

He grabs your hand. He’s warm—burning and you try to pull away but he grips harder. You bite your lip and freeze.

His sunglasses are on top of his hair. His eyes are shock blue and shine and sparkle. This sparkle is different from your mother’s. You don’t like it. You don’t like anything about this boy.

“Come with me.” He smiles and your mouth opens but you blink and it’s not so hot anymore. His hand is still on yours and there are still rocks in your shoes but the sun is not beaming down your back. You blink again, and there’s a bed in front of you—the kind you’d see in movies—with long windows behind it. Instead of a shaggy green carpet touching your toes, there is a cold wood floor.

You shout and jump and the boy laughs. “You’re fine! See? We’re in my home!” He lets go of your hand and jumps onto the big bed. 

“In Japan?!” You shout again and feel a rock in your throat. But the boy shakes his head, a cheesy grin on his face. “Of course not. This is the vacation home.” He flattens himself against his bed. You stand awkwardly.

“You wanna get something to eat?” You hear him ask.

“No,” you say but your stomach complains by growling loudly. He snickers and you want to go home.

“Oh my baby! All done with middle school!” Mom sings while driving. You continue drawing in your sketchbook and before long you have created large blue eyes and white hair and a boyish grin. It’s, unfortunately, Satoru Gojo. He paid you twenty dollars the last time you saw him and he asked for you to create an image of him. Whatever. Easy money.

“Mami! I’m going into sixth!” Kaju yells, wanting attention. She looks at him in the rear view mirror. “Ah, yes! Kaju is going into middle school. Don’t you feel so old?” Kaju shouts something like “I’m not old!” and Mom laughs and you shove your earbuds further into your ears. 

The drawing is finished. It looks like Satoru, unfairly pretty with white teeth. You think it’s kind of weird how you can draw him so easily without having him stand right next to you. You can only do that with Kaju and Mom because you know them.

—and you don’t really know Satoru. Well, except for the fact that he’s one year older than you. His family is rich, maybe, probably, everytime he..teleports you to the vacation home, it’s grand on the inside. Not that you’ve met any of his family members and not that he mentions any of them. It’s all just a big guess on your part.

Satoru knows about you though. He knows about Kaju and Mom and how Perro died. He knows about your passion for art and your more secret passion for doctors. He knows what school you go to, where you live, and your favorite color. He knows so much and you trust him. He’s really your only friend after all.

The car stops and you glance up. Home is ahead, small, tiny, and dirty all around. It’s a trailer. Kaju and Mom are still talking so you climb out of the car and stretch.

Satoru is coming today for his summer long vacation. You hold the sketchbook close to you. You feel excited.

Satoru is there, across the street. Tall, pretty, and grinning. You’re glad that your art piece matches him.

“Hello!” He yells and waves and you jog over. His eyes look at the sketchbook—he takes his glasses off around you now. You hand the pad over to him and watch his pupils dilate.

“Like it?” you ask and for some reason you feel a little shy. He nods wordlessly and cradles the sketchbook. Maybe he likes it too much.

“Can I keep it?”

“Yeah.” You’ve never had anyone ask to keep a drawing of yours.

He looks up at you and his eyes are unreadable. “I wanna take you somewhere new. You’ll like it, I promise.” So you shrug and grab his hand and blink. New things can be scary, like starting high school and moving. You expect to be scared, Satoru likes pranks, but you blink twice and the air smells good and you see pink petals.

You look up. Pretty trees flow in the wind and you gape. Their leaves are pink! 

“What are they?” You breathe out, still holding Satoru’s hand. He chuckles next to you. “Cherry blossoms. I—we’re in Japan.” You look at him and squint. “Satoru!”

“But it’s okay! I’ll bring you back, I promise.” His cheeks are as pink as the trees. “I just wanted to show you.” You want to be mad at him, but as much as you try, you can’t. So you look back up and smile.

Satoru’s head falls onto your shoulder. His breaths are quick and shallow. He sounds sick. He sounds like your brother.

“Can we…” He starts but the words die in the wind. “What?” you whisper. His hand tightens around yours.

“I want us to be together.”

You giggle. He’s joking, he must be. “We can’t, Satoru! I don’t want to live in Japan.” At that, he shoves his face further into your neck, and you swear you feel his lips tremble against your pulse.

#x reader #female reader #24 #yandere gojo satoru #yandere gojo satoru x reader #yandere jjk #read more on quotev!

[aphidclan-clangen]

you don't have to post this, but I thought it would be funny!!!

Nimblekit: I just scream a lot... I just, scream... a lot

-

Goldshine: With all due respect, which is none,

-

Sparkspeckle: You know how someone can say “I respectfully disagree”? What about “I disrespectfully agree” for when you hate someone but they are unfortunately correct.

-

Shadebreak: I am always up for potential rule breaking.

-

Goldshine: Don’t be afraid to make a fool of yourself, I do it regularly.

-

Nimblekit: 80% of people are actually ugly because of their face, you know.

-

Pearlstar: Trans people? In my clan? It’s more likely than you think.

-

Blisswhistle: For the last time, you can’t die of adhd.

-

Sparkspeckle: You can do whatever you want forever :D

Stormwhisper: I love you, but that is not helpful.

-

Stormwhisper, too nervous to ask for emotional support: Man, it smells like wrongdog in here.

-

Gravel: Aren’t you like 5’2?

Firebeetle: I self identify as tall.

-

Pearlstar: Every day my joints are shocked and disgusted that I would use them for their intended purpose.

-

Sparkspeckle: You can never lose an argument if you say “shut up nerd” at the end.

Icesheep: Yes you can.

Sparkspeckle: Shut up nerd.

-

Goldshine: In my defense, your honor, I simply do not care enough.

-

Nimblekit: Your honor, in my defense, who cares like omfgggggggg who cares????????? Like come onnn.

-

Skykit: Are you a girl or a boy?

Shadebreak: Uhh, well some people aren’t girls or boys!

Skykit: Wow, just like snails...

Shadebreak: ???

-

Straight Man: Hey

Titania: That’s enough.

-

Lilacpaw: I respect perfume commercials being like, we can’t show you a smell, mind if we just go insane for 30 seconds?

-

Shadekit: Hey we are all really small, do you wanna sleep in a pile.

Icekit, Stormkit and Sparkkit: Yes.

-

Blisswhistle: “Fuck it, we ball” (Malnourished, heavy eye bags, dehydrated, on the verge of insanity.)

-

Goldshine: Evil infodumping where you just tell lies.

Sparkspeckle: Tiktok

Icesheep: 5-minute crafts

Shadebreak: Resume

Stormwhisper: Men

-

Nimblekit: I fucking hate the hand that feeds me, I think i’ll do something fucked up to it.

-

Nimblekit: Sick injury bro, would be a shame if i added insult to it.

-

Pearlstar: I laugh at my own jokes because I am my target audience. Y’all just happen to be there fr.

-

Gravel: I wish they sold offbrand cars, get me a damn honder.

Firebeetle: Pulling up in the revolver.

-

Shadebreak: When two buses pass each other and the bus drivers don’t wave at each other, like omg... did you guys break up...

-

Blisswhistle: I can still crack a joke mid-breakdown, that’s why everyone is lucky to have me in their lives.

-

Gravel: They don’t kill the presidents like they used to.

-

Berrykit: The LMAO+ community.

Nimblekit: It’s LMFAO+ this is party rock erasure.

-

Sparkspeckle: It’s harder than you think to communicate with someone who isn’t familiar with the world of spongebob.

-

Goldshine: Pipe down your honor, you weren’t even there.

-

Goldshine: JFK?? Like from umbrella academy?? Haha... you know he’s not... real, right?

Stormwhisper: Wait, I though JFK was from clone high??

Sparkspeckle: JFK, as in Jesus Fucking Khrist, from the bible?

Icesheep: Isn’t JFK that fried chicken fast food chain.

Shadebreak: Guys cmon, it’s Jennedy Fennedy Kennedy, you gotta know this.

-

Goldshine: Mfs be named “James” and it only be one dude.

-

Nimblekit: Does violence have to be the last resort, can’t it be like third.

-

Lilacpaw: Free my man, he did all of it but I don’t care.

-

Pearlstar: Let me get this straight. Grabs the nearest heterosexual. Now, where were we. (He is holding nobody)

-

Blisswhistle: I’m so done with self care, it’s time for others harm.

-

Shadebreak: Fun fact. Shut the fuck-

-

Sparkspeckle: Nuh uh

Icesheep: FYM “NUH UH”???

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

-⚡ anon

Genuinely made me laugh, I love these

#blisswhistle telling ‘for the last time you can’t die of adhd’ to Cresskit and Skykit #and Stormwhisper says in the background ‘wait you can’t?’ #this is all very accurate lol #aphidasks

[morningberriesao3]

Dom!King!Steve Harrington X Sub!Eddie Munson

Get High, Go Down: a series of “next time”s

Summary: Steve doesn’t have any money on him, so he offers to pay Eddie some other way.

Word Count: 3.6K

Part: 1 of 4

A/N: this series was one of the first things I posted on ao3, so i want to apologise for any incorrect grammar/awkward delivery. i’ve come a long way since then in my writing (i’m still learning everyday), but this was still received really well 🥹 so as a throwback, she’s joining the realm of tumblr. thank you to anyone who reblogs, comments, likes, messages, or tags me in posts or challenges (even if sometimes I don’t do them ‘cause i’m too nervous lmao). I thrive off interaction so ilu all sm.

Content Warning: this series includes explicit m/m sexual content including oral sex, dom/sub undertones, light S&M, under-negotiated kink, pain play, nipple play, anal play, anal sex, rimming, multiple orgasms, cum & spit play (a lot of wet and messy things), spit kinks, pain kinks, praise kinks, semi-public sex, light feminization, switching, unsafe sex, and impact play. Excessive swearing. Recreational drug use and drinking. All characters are—and always will be—18 or older, whether stated or not. This post is intended for adults ONLY. I am not responsible for the media you consume.

DONE DEAL

Fir Street, Forest Hills trailer park. Trailer number 3401.

Steve sat in his burgundy BMW staring at the flickering lights that danced from inside the trailer’s windows. The familiar rusty van, famously belonging to Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson, was parked beside him. Alarmingly unassuming.

He was definitely in the right place.

He nervously maneuvered his body from his vehicle. As far as Steve knew, Eddie didn’t love doing house calls. He mostly conducted business in one of the abandoned bathrooms at Hawkins High, or behind the school in a small clearing of the forest that surrounded it.

But Steve was desperate.

He climbed the metal stairs of the trailer, sure that his weight clanking on the steps already signaled his arrival. He still lifted his fist to the door and knocked three times.

From inside, Steve could hear some shuffling and perhaps what was a grunt from Eddie Munson’s lungs. He tried not to think about how hot his face felt from hearing the simple sound.

Then the door to the trailer swung wide, and there stood Eddie: tall, shirtless, tattooed, and… fuck, pierced? Yes, Pierced. Those were definitely nipple piercings on his pale, bare chest.

Steve felt hotter than before.

“Steve Harrington?” Eddie sung, letting his eyes slowly cascade from the top of Steve’s mass of hair all the way down to his white and red Nikes. Eddie lifted the last of a cigarette to his lips, taking a final long drag, before flicking it past Steve’s shoulder into the gravel outside. His gaze landed on the eyes of the boy in front of him. “To what do I owe this magnificent honour?”

“I…” Steve felt suddenly lost for words. Sure, he was The King of Hawkins High. But nobody, royalty or not, could ever seem bigger than Eddie Munson. He was larger than life. Majorly intimidating. After what seemed like way too long standing on Eddie’s steps (the metalhead watching with a bemused grin the entire time), Steve finally breathed out, “need weed. I came for weed.”

“Mhm…” Eddie crossed his arms and lazily rested his slender form on the doorframe. “And you thought you would bother me on a Thursday night, at –” he looked at the watch on his wrist “– 10:30pm to get said weed, instead of waiting like a good boy until tomorrow?”

Steve’s face felt so hot from Eddie’s words that he thought he might melt into a molten pile of lava right then and there. He was tongue tied, a little embarrassed, and amazingly flustered. All he could do was nod in answer to Eddie’s question.

Eddie let out a sigh – one that would surely win him an Oscar for Most Dramatic (if that was such a thing) – and stepped aside. He flourished his arm in a somewhat inviting gesture for Steve to step into the trailer, but barely left enough room for Steve to push past him. Their chests lightly brushed against each other in the narrow doorway, Eddie refusing to give Steve anything other than the minimum amount of space to move.

Steve felt tight everywhere. His chest, his jaw, his fists. And especially in his jeans. It was unnerving.

“Alright, Harrington,” Eddie started, slamming the front door to the trailer, and pushing his way past Steve into what he could only assume was Eddie’s bedroom. The curly-headed man arrived back at the entranceway not a moment later with a black tin lunchbox firmly in his grasp. He basically threw it onto the countertop of the small kitchenette, which subsequently created a loud clatter that made a skittish Steve jump from his skin. “Half an ounce is thirty. I have half a mind to charge you an after-hours fee, but I’m feeling generous and will spare you. This once.”

Eddie cocked his head to the side and hung a plastic bag full of pot from his fingers.

“Uhh…” Steve shuffled from one of his feet to the other, looking between the bag of weed and Eddie Munson’s overly large eyes. Eyes that furrowed at Steve’s reluctance.

“What is it? Want some pre-rolls instead?” Eddie tossed the bud back into the container and lifted a separate baggy with a dozen or so joints perfectly wrapped within it. “Each one is five bucks. Or, for you, five for twenty-five.”

“Five for twenty-five?” Steve scoffed. “That’s not a deal.”

“Exaaaactly.” Eddie rolled his eyes. “So? How many do you want?”

“I… um. I don’t have any money on me.” Steve’s ears were ringing at the admittance. His head felt flooded and hot and muddled.

“Jesus Christ, Harrington!” Eddie tossed the weed back into his lunchbox and slammed the lid closed tight, making a point to shove it far away from Steve like he was no longer even allowed to look at Eddie’s stash. “Why did you come here if you knew you couldn’t afford it, hmm?”

This was it. This was why Steve had been so fucking nervous to come here. He took a breath meant to calm himself, but it didn’t come close to doing its job. “I thought we could… do a trade instead?”

“Pfft!” Eddie huffed, frustrated. “I’m sorry, your royal highness, but I don’t accept trades, or favours, or IOUs, or promises, or anything relating. I accept cash. That’s it. End of story.”

“Are you sure?” Steve stepped forward into Eddie’s personal space and was pleased to see the other man’s round eyes grow impossibly larger. “I feel like I could offer you something that you want, that isn’t cash.”

Eddie’s breath hitched, “and what, exactly, do you think that might be?”

“Come on,” Steve purred seductively, suddenly confident, reaching out to twirl one of Eddie’s curls between his fingertips. “I see how you look at me in the cafeteria. I saw how your eyes lingered in the locker room last week. And how you stare in my direction in algebra.”

“What?! I –” Eddie bit his lip as Steve leaned even closer, the two boy’s faces mere inches apart. His skin flushed a lovely shade of scarlet red from his cheeks down to his chest. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, man.”

“No?” Steve asked, closing the remaining distance between their bodies so they were flush against each other. He pressed his palm against the firm bulge in the front of Eddie’s jeans and gave it a tight squeeze. The noise Eddie made, somewhere between a moan and a gasp, went straight to his own dick. “Your mouth is telling me one thing, Munson, but your cock has an entirely different story.”

“Look, Steve…” Eddie panted, holding his hand out in front of him in defeat. “I’m sorry. Please don’t… Please don’t say anything to anyone. I just want to fucking survive the school year, man. That’s all.”

Steve tilted his head as he gave Eddie’s cock another firm press with his open palm.

“Ah!” Eddie’s head fell back and he bucked his hips reflexively into Steve’s hand, searching for any type of friction that might be awaiting him. “You can… You don’t have to do this. Just – just bring the money tomorrow. To school. O-or whenever you have it. I’m not picky!”

“Mmm… I don’t think I’ll have any spare cash any time soon,” Steve trailed his free hand down Eddie’s heaving chest until his fingers toyed with the handcuff buckle on his belt. “Plus, I’d rather not have any unpaid debts. You know?”

Eddie nodded, eyes glazed, chest glistening in a layer of sweat from the muggy late-spring air. “Yeah? I mean – yeah. I… get that.”

“I knew you would understand,” Steve whispered lowly into Eddie’s ear, before he flicked his tongue outwards over the lobe. Eddie’s knuckles went white as they clung to the edge of the countertop behind him. Steve pulled the bottom of Eddie’s ear into his mouth and sucked the metal stud that decorated it between his teeth.

Eddie moaned and finally moved one of his hands from his side to fist into the hem of Steve’s shirt.

“Oh... Oh, shit, Harrington” he rocked forward into Steve’s palm once again with more fervor than before. Steve’s hand started to unbuckle the leather around Eddie’s waist, but the latter pulled back from the attack of Steve’s lips on his ear. “I’m serious. You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, Steve. You really don’t”

Steve paused for only a moment to say, “Shut up, Munson,” before lunging forward to envelope Eddie’s plush lips with his own. A startled gasp came from the older boy, but he immediately overcame the shock and wrapped his arms around Steve’s middle, coaxing him to rock his hips into his now splayed legs.

“Fuck… Steve,” Eddie muttered as Steve thrust himself against Eddie. The two layers of denim did nothing to hide how hard either of them were.

Steve’s fingers travelled up Eddie’s torso and found his little pink nipples. He assaulted one with a rather aggressive flick, which cause Eddie to yell, open-mouthed, into the ceiling.

“Sensitive, are we?” Steve asked, rolling Eddie’s silver jewellery between his fingers before pinching the bud of his skin tightly.

Eddie keened, and Steve could feel his chest tremble beneath his fingers.

“Hurts!” Eddie’s voice cracked, his eyes squeezed tightly, causing a tear to escape from the corner of one.

“Do you want me to stop?” Steve asked, concerned he could be taking things too far.

“No! No!” Eddie’s eyes shot open, his own fingers moving over Steve’s, motioning for him to pinch down again. Steve obliged. “Ahh! Feels so good!”

“Mmm, of course you like it rough,” Steve whispered, lowering his head from beside Eddie’s so he could replace the fingers against the metalheads chest with his teeth instead. He bit down onto one of Eddie’s nipples, rolling the silver barbell with his tongue, and then eased off with his teeth to instead suckle at the sensitive skin.

Eddie sounded like he was sobbing above Steve, but his hands were tangled in the younger’s hair, pressing him against his skin. He was panting a string of words over and over, like a broken record: “Fuck yes, Steve, ahh, ow! Fuck, yes, Steve!”

“I think you could come just like this, couldn’t you?” Steve teased as he pulled back, taking in Eddie’s already fucked-out and completely dishevelled appearance. He was so fucking beautiful.

Eddie’s jaw hung open as he nodded in agreeance, his cheeks darkening in embarrassment.

“Well, maybe next time. I have a little more planned for you tonight,” Steve explained, finally undoing Eddie’s belt. He opened the button of his fly and pulled down his zipper. “Since you’ve been so understanding with me.”

Eddie’s eyes rolled to the back of his skull as Steve wrapped his fingers around his freed cock over his boxers. His skin was hot, even under the layer of cotton that separated them. He could feel a damp patch gathering steadily where the tip of Eddie’s length poked under the tent of fabric. He pressed his thumb there, rubbing the slicked cotton and subsequently Eddie’s leaking tip in teasing circles.

“Steve… St –” Eddie groaned unabashedly into the empty air, apparently unaware, or maybe uncaring, that his neighbours could most likely hear him. He was a noisy little thing, Steve noticed, much to his own pleasure.

His own dick was pulsing painfully under the stiff fabric of his Levi’s, the only relief he was getting was from the occasional thrust forward that he allowed himself into Eddie’s hipbone. It wasn’t doing much, but he was so turned on that it was probably more than enough.

Steve dropped down onto his knees with an alarmingly heavy thud – Eddie’s eyes popping out of his skull to look down on the younger boy in front of him. “If you liked my lips on your nipples, wait until you feel them wrapped around your dick,” Steve said smugly, lacing his fingers under the waistband of both Eddie’s boxers and his jeans, and tugging down.

Eddie’s cock sprang free in front of his face, bouncing once to hit against Steve’s nose, before it stood at full attention in front of his face. The trail of hair that led from Eddie’s navel attached to a thick patch of dark-brown curls that framed the top of his cock – thick and veiny with a slight upwards curve. It looked fucking delicious, like a cherry popsicle. Red and glistening and dripping like it was melting on a hot summer’s day.

Steve didn’t waste any time getting a taste.

All at once, he swallowed down Eddie’s cock until he could feel it pressing firmly against the back of his throat. He gagged and sputtered, not yet adjusted to the intrusion, but it didn’t stop him from pulling back and shoving forward again until his nose was buried in the patch of hair near Eddie’s skin. He shook his head back-and-forth, Eddie still firmly seated in his throat, nuzzling his nose in the soft curls. He wished he could breathe him in, but his airways were currently very restricted.

Eddie’s fingers tugged at his hair as he bobbed his head on Eddie’s length, saliva spilling from his gaping mouth, coating his chin and Eddie in a thick layer of wet that pooled and dripped onto the linoleum.

“Shit, shit, shit, aahhh!” Eddie huffed over Steve as his muscles of his thighs twitched under his fingers. “Your mouth – shit – Steve, it feels so good. So good.”

Steve hummed, squeezing where he rested his hands, and then shoved Eddie’s pants down further until they were pooled by his feet – his lower half completely naked. He tore himself away from Eddie and the older boy gyrated forward at the loss of his hot throat. Steve licked a firm, long line under Eddie’s shaft, trailing against one of the puffy, swollen veins that led all the way to his flushed tip. With the flat of his tongue, he lapped at the translucent white that drooled from its slit.

“You taste amazing, baby,” Steve said breathlessly, swallowing down the salty, musky taste of Eddie mixed with his own spit that gathered under his tongue.

“Steve, what are you –” Eddie gasped as Steve shoved his thighs farther apart, spreading him completely open in front of his face. He made eye contact with Eddie as he sucked two of his own fingers into his mouth, slicking them with the slippery mess within it. When he scissored his fingers apart, thin strings of drool connected them together in an obscene display.

As if asking a wordless question, Steve rubbed high on Eddie’s inner thighs – not quite reaching his ass, but the implications were loud and clear.

Eddie nodded, and that’s all Steve needed before he lifted his spit-lubed fingers up to Eddie’s entrance. The ring of muscle contracted under his tentative touch, Eddie mewling pathetically above him. Sobs racked his shoulders forward. Near tears.

No, not near tear. There were definitely already tears.

“Mmm, that’s it, baby. Just relax for me,” Steve cooed as he massaged his middle finger around Eddie’s asshole. Eddie’s cock – still near his face – twitched in neglect, or maybe in anticipation, as a string of precum beaded and fell from its tip. The droplet landed on Steve’s shirt, and he immediately used his free hand to bring the fabric to his mouth so he could lick it off. “Such a messy boy, Eddie. Getting me all wet, covered in my spit and your cum. Who’s gonna clean this mess, hmm?”

A choked laugh erupted from Eddie’s throat, “I think you’re doing a pretty good job of that yourself, Harrington.”

“Oh?” Steve abruptly stood to his feet and grabbed Eddie’s jaw. The latter squeaked a noise of shock as his mouth was roughly pried open by Steve – jaw wide and lips spread. “Gonna be a brat, are we? Why don’t you take some of your mess back then?”

With that, Steve spat directly into Eddie’s slacked jaw. A whimper escaped from his pillowy, pink lips as Steve allowed him to close his mouth and swallow the saliva – tainted with the flavour of his own cock – down.

“Holy fuck,” he whispered, almost to himself, as he stared with dazed eyes into Steve’s face. Steve couldn’t help but smile at how cock drunk Eddie looked as he licked at his lips. He hadn’t even swallowed down Steve and he was already a slobbering mess. Steve couldn’t help but wonder what the older boy might look like if he fucked into his mouth instead.

Next time.

He dropped back to his knees and pushed his finger against Eddie’s entrance until it sunk into the tight ring of muscle to the first knuckle. Eddie groaned and grunted, and his legs trembled as they struggled to keep him upright as Steve started sinking deeper and deeper into Eddie’s yielding body. Eventually his entire finger was seated inside Eddie’s asshole – he could feel the flutter of Eddie’s walls around him as his body sucked him in.

“Fuck, you’re so tight, Eddie,” he moaned, kitten-licking at the tip of Eddie’s straining cock that bobbed and twitched so close to his face. Eddie cried something entirely incoherent as his head fell backwards, smacking against the door of one of the kitchen cabinets. “I want to feel you wrapped around my cock one of these days. Don’t know how I’d ever fit in here though. You’re squeezing the shit out of my finger.”

As if to make his point clear as daylight, he pulled his finger nearly all the way out of Eddie’s body and plunged back in, this time with his ring finger alongside the middle. Eddie wailed, open-mouthed, grabbing at Steve’s hair and tugging. Steve grunted from the pain and his cock throbbed under his jeans. He was ridiculously hard, and it would admittedly not take much to make him come, so he slotted one of Eddie’s legs between his thighs as he knelt on the ground.

He continued to fuck into Eddie with his fingers as he thrust his hips forward into Eddie’s calf, matching the moans of the boy above him. When Steve curled his fingers inside Eddie’s body, he found the bundle of nerves that nearly made Eddie’s legs give out.

“Holy – fuck!” Eddie gasped like a fish out of water above Steve as he stroked his prostate over and over. “Oh! Steve! Whatthefuck?! What – Steve. Ah, ah, ah!”

“Mmm, that’s the good spot, isn’t it, Eddie,” Steve said, smugly. He twisted his finger just right to rub against that sweet spot with an intentional pressure that made Eddie weep above him. “Do you like that?”

“Yes, yes, yes, yes,” Eddie blubbered atop Steve. His cock twitched aggressively until it was nearly straight up, and then it bobbed back down again against Steve’s cheek. “Oh God, I’m – Oh. Oh. Oh God, I’m so –”

Steve rutted his forgotten dick against Eddie’s calf, so close to his own release from hearing Eddie’s sobbing desperation. Desperation that Steve was bringing to him.

“You’re gonna come, Eddie?” Steve grunted as he pushed himself against Eddie’s leg over and over, continuing to massage those sinful noises out of the boy above him.

“Yes! Yes… gonna come –”

“Then come for me,” he ordered, taking Eddie’s dribbling dick all the way back into his mouth, and swallowing. As his throat contracted around his cock, Eddie thrusted forward. Hot liquid spilled down Steve’s throat in rivers, nearly choking him, but he managed to swallow down Eddie’s cum without a single drop missed.

“Fuck! Steve! Holy sh – Holy shit! So good, so fucking good!” Eddie’s asshole tensed around Steve’s fingers, impossibly tighter than before, as he fucked in and out of him throughout his orgasm.

With one more aggressive rut of his hips, Steve came inside his boxers, slicking them in a sticky heat that helped him slide under the fabric, rocking against Eddie during his aftershocks.

When he pulled his fingers out of Eddie, the man finally collapsed in front of him. He fell to his knees, and then onto his stomach, barely bracing for impact with his arms. He laid face-down, naked, gulping for air, on his kitchen floor. Used. Spent.

Steve was quite proud.

“You alive down there, Munson?” he quipped as he stood to his feet, trying to readjust in his pants as best as he could to get comfortable. It was no use – the cum was spread throughout his boxers and would be irritating until he had the chance to change them.

Eddie grunted a response against the floor but made no move to get up.

“Take what you want, man,” he flailed his arm in the general direction of his drug pail. “Take it all if you want. I don’t care.”

Steve snorted, giving Eddie’s side a nudge with his foot. Eddie managed to lull his head far enough to the side to look up at Steve, who stood with his arms crossed around his chest and a pleased smirk glued to his face.

“I’m gonna head out. It was a pleasure, Eddie. Truly.” He stepped towards the door.

“Wait – dude – your weed. Honestly. Take what you came here for.” Eddie scrambled to his feet, pulling his boxers up over his abused lower half so quickly he nearly tripped.

So fucking endearing.

“I already got what I came here for, Munson.” Steve said, opening the door to the trailer.

“W-what?” Eddie stammered, looking between the jock and his – still full – drug stash.

“See you at school tomorrow!” Steve called as he flung himself back into his BMW. He might have asked to stay longer if he didn’t desperately need a shower and a change of pants.

But as he thought before, there was always next time.

He smiled to himself as he pulled from Eddie’s trailer, watching the shell-shocked man – eyes ballooning and mouth agape – disappear in his rear-view mirror.

NEXT PART

MASTERLIST

SOCIALS

#eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie #steddie fanfic #steddie fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #steddie fic #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve harrington fanfic #eddie x steve #steve stranger things #dom steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve x eddie #top steve harrington #bisexual steve harrington #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x steve harrington #gay eddie munson #sub eddie munson #stranger things fic #no upside down au #mlm #steddie brainrot #steddie smut #steddie fic rec #steddie blurb #steddie ao3

[patronsaintofhomosandpain]

I'm sick of hearing; "Writing is a refreshing way to cleanse your mind and put you onto a better path."

Babes, this path may have been paved with good intentions, but it was recently patched up with glass shards and used needles.

Also I haven't slept in three days, so here's a list of other bullshit I'm sick of bitches saying to writers.

So much for refreshing.

☆.𓋼𓍊 𓆏 𓍊𓋼𓍊.☆

Feckin Friday 22/03/24

🐈‍⬛️ 1. "Write what you know."

Okay, yes! You shouldn't bullshit your entire book, but also, don't be confined to only what you know. Do you think I know anything about corpse reanimation? Whelp, that didn't stop me! It's good to learn something new, and it's great for your writing to expand your repertoire. Hell, who knows? You might find your new niche. Besides, research is your best friend.

🦇 2. "But my friend, cousin, neighbor, cat's best friend's sister in law's spouse wrote their book in (a ridiculous small amount of time)!"

Well, good for them! They're still going to get slingshot into the sun with the rest of us anyway. Not everybody is the same, and the only thing that ALL writers have in common is that they write things! Find what works for you and tune out the rest of the bullshit, including your own. Don't bully yourself for not writing! We are only on this earth for a very small amount of time. Take care of yourself!

🐦‍⬛ 3. "You have to have a plan/outline/entire plot done before you start writing!"

This is just *ugh* bullshit. Like yeah, sure, if you're a normal person, I guess plot it! But you know what? I've got an illiterate, hyperactive squirrel behind the control panel of my brain, and he's on his sixth line of coke. All I have to say to this is JUST WRITE it'll either all come together when you go over it later or it will be cut. Either way, it's putting words on the page, and that's great practice.

🕷 4. "Writing is your only job, and you have to treat it as such."

Gross. Look, even if someone is lucky enough to be able to write as a full-time job, I guarantee you that writing isn't all that person has does.

A lot of us are parents or keep our houses, most of us are still in school, and a majority of us have to work at least part-time to afford to write!

Writing should be treated as a job in such a way that you take pride in it, but it shouldn't be something you're forced to do.

You know how people say, "If you love what you do, you never work a day."

There ya go.

🕸 5. "Follow this plan!" / "Writing’s easy!"

I have three things to say to that.

Bite me, bite me, bite me, BITE ME.

Look, I am so glad that Stephen King smokes three blunts and eats a pile of shrooms as a part of his routine, I AM SO HAPPY THAT WORKS FOR HIM! But it's not gonna work for me and it's probably not going to work for your poor stressed out little writer friend who is six months behind on sleep and is trying to catch up with shots of espresso and tall boys of redbull. We know you mean well, and we really appreciate hearing new things to try. Don't get that twisted! But I'm sorry, there is just no gospel or quick fix to writing.

What's some other shit you're sick of hearing people say? Come on! Let's trauma bond!

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[the-24-7-lawlu-library]

Poll Vote March Mutual Pining Slowburn

Hi readers! I hope your weekend is going well <3

Blinded by Sakuya_Serenity_Kira (E)

Strawhats and Heart Pirates are traveling together after the events on DressRosa, Zou and maybe even Wano. Kizaru pays them a visit and as a result Luffy is blinded.  Now he is not allowed in the sun for days. And where would be safer for the freedom-loving captain than in the cabin of a grim, silent surgeon...?

Storge by Sketched_Ink (M)

“Ok!” Luffy grinned brightly, “You help protect Ace, and I beat up a flamingo? Easy” “Not a flamingo, Donquixote Doflamingo, my adoptive father”, Law tried to stop the venom seeping into his voice. Luffy nodded solemnly, “Ok, I beat up your father, the flamingo, and you protect Ace?”. Law supposed this was the closest he was going to get to total understanding. “Yes”, he ground out.   Or, the self-indulgent Bridgerton-style AU nobody asked for.

The Greatest Adventure by Kaatosade (E) [incomplete]

It was even more absurd to hear Luffy talking about marriage.

I was a God once! by KhepiAri (M)

I was a god once; no one believes it when I tell them now. I had tall shrines, devout followers and piles of offerings. My first shrine was made in the hollow of a tree. It was a little boy who had built it; he had killed a wild boar with a stone, that blood covered stone was my first form. He, along with his mates, he concluded the stone was a miracle. A notorious boar had rampaged around his village for months, destroying their crops and killing three elderly. The boy at the stupid age of 12 had taken matters in his own hand and ventured into the forest after his brothers and grandfather had returned injured. He had no skills and zero sense of self-preservation. With bow and arrows slung on his back, two long knives tied on thin his waist and a spear in his hand; he marched out of home at break of dawn. While his mother and father were busy nursing the injured and grandmother brewed the medicinal soup, he sneaked out. A pining god recites how he fell in love with a mortal. From bickering god and a devotee they become friends, but can god and human be together? Law is a young god and Luffy his devotee. SWITCH COUPLE: LawLu/LuLaw Lawlu Week 2022 day-6

And Like This, We Eclipse the Universe by riverofnara (G)

He knows his name. He knows the lullaby of the ocean and the press of warm sand against his toes. He knows the straw hat on his head is sacred, a treasure of unspeakable value. And he knows that he’s missed Law, a cavernous ache in his chest that would normally swallow one whole, but not here because Law’s presence alone is enough, a gentle balm to dull the pain in increments. - The universe grants two hearts longing for the other a chance to reunite. And even when they don't recognize each other, they don't let the moment go to waste.

Mon Trésor by bimarian (G)

Luffy wonders if Law will get mad once he finally admits it; will Law walk away from him once he lets all these wishes and prayers out in the open? Maybe. And that’s one doubt too many. Ten things that he wants to confess to his ally now that he is already the Pirate King.

Lost and Found by too_addicted_to_fiction (E)

“I’m not here to play hide-and-seek with you, Mugiwara,” Law spat out, hot and tired and annoyed. “I’m here to take you back. I promised your friends." In which Luffy runs away, and Law is sent after him.

When You Hug Me It Feels Like Home. by KhepiAri (G)

Unlike how his family had feared that Luffy would go wild at the first taste of freedom, Luffy was drowned in the first taste of college existential crisis, being good at something practically didn’t mean he was good at in theory. The first three weeks of Luffy’s freedom were spent studying things he had no understanding of. When assignments came another week later, the young student couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed and began crying in the middle of the library. Fellow students didn’t make things awkward for him by staring; it was common to find crying first years at every nook and corner of the university. It was entirely different from high school, if you fell no one was going to pick you up, you had to pick yourself up, clean your wounds and keep walking. “Are you okay?” A firm hand gently tapped a wallowing Luffy’s shoulder. “No…” Luffy tried to control his sobs. College AU. Fresher Luffy/PhD student Law. No Smut. One kiss. Law finds Luffy crying in the library, so he offers to buy Luffy a drink and help him out for a while, but he soon finds himself flirting with Luffy, who is a bit slow when it comes to matter of hearts. LawluWeek 2022 Day-8

Why won't you kiss me already? by Katia_Anyway (M)

Luffy is in love with Torao. And he knows Torao loves him back. So why won't Torao kiss him already!?

If You Need Me, I will by BasicallyACat (G)

Luffy can't find the words to describe all the things he feels, couldn't say them even if he found them. He knows people don't understand him usually and doesn't really mind. His nakama understand and that is all that matters. When he meets Law, suddenly there are far too many things to say even when he can't and Luffy prays Law can understand anyways.

The Curious Case of Monkey D. Luffy by lampalot7 (T)

Monkey D. Luffy was cute. This much was known—this was an undeniable, immutable fact. It was also largely suspected to be a ruse of some sort. The squishy-cheeked, beaming face on the wanted posters was largely considered by the more discerning members of Law’s profession to be incapable of the infamous, impossible deeds that Straw Hat Luffy has committed. Or: Luffy is cute, Law has incorrect assumptions, and then a crisis.

If you think we missed a work that you think deserves to be added, don't hesitate to reply with the link or send a message <3

-Mod Raiya

#lawlu #lulaw #monkey d luffy #trafalgar law #law x luffy #explicitly lawlu #slowburn #mutual pining #getting together #angst and fluff #falling in love #fluff #bridgerton au #Canon Divergence #idiots in love #fluff and smut #Dressrosa Arc #Wano Arc #post dressrosa #pining