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#GOONS Gym
dat-ass-all-nat · 1 year
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beetle-drip · 1 year
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A lil heehee haha post with @pinkcandiedcorpse man Adrien and Eden from a movie night 
Fuck off minors and ageless blogs
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trmpt · 7 months
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“If we’re going to talk about contempt of Congress, let’s get real,” Swalwell continued. “Are you serious that Jim Jordan, a witness to one of the greatest crimes ever committed in America, a crime where more prosecutions have occurred than any crime committed in America, refuses to help his country, and we’re going to get lectured about subpoena compliance and contempt of Congress?”
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lovebugism · 9 months
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“don’t you dare touch him” eddie x shy!reader
idk i need a situation where reader never really speaks up but she finally does when it comes to eddie because she loves him sm😭
thanks so much for your request! hope you like it!! — the one where eddie melts when his quiet gf sticks up for him in front of jason (shy!reader, fluff, 2.4k)
bug's summer fic fest ♡
The drive from Forest Hills to the arcade is spent with Lucas and Dustin bickering in the backseat and Eddie’s hand on your thigh.
“It’s been two years, and you still can’t beat my high score, Dusty Bun,” the former boy taunts. The nickname spills like venom from his smiling face. “Just give it up, okay? It’s not happening.”
Dustin grins back at him. It’s more so mischievous than it is taunting. His deep blue eyes narrow in a challenging squint. “You are so gonna be eating your words by the end of the night. When we leave, Princess Daphne is gonna be mine, alright? For good.”
Their arguing becomes background noise. With your cheek lolled against the hand you’ve got propped against the window, you’re pulled into the wispy lilac cloud your gaze is so heavily fixated upon. The sky billows lavender against a sea of pink and golden orange — a summer sunset so vivid you can taste it.
The only thing keeping you grounded is Eddie’s palm on your knee, wide and warm and all-consuming. His thumb rubs against your skin so softly you think it must be absentminded. It feels like static shock, anyway. He laughs quietly to himself, and his fingers tremble gently against you. This time they squeeze you with a newfound intention as he brings you back to him.
“What do you think, babe?” Eddie asks, pink mouth spread in a pearly white grin. His chocolate eyes glimmer with the golden hour sun as his gaze flits between yours and the road. “Think Dusty Bun has a chance here?”
You nod, scrunched nose and squinted eyes, silent in your support for the curly-headed boy who’s still yelling over Lucas in the back of the van.
“What about me?” he presses. And because he knows better than to give his quiet girl anything other than a yes or no answer, he follows quickly, “You think today’s the day I finally beat your Space Invaders high score?”
A beat passes. The momentary silence is filled with arguing boys, old tires on older asphalt, and Ozzy Osbourne’s “Crazy Train” spilling softly from the radio. A quiet smile tugs at the corners of your mouth. You purse the mischievous expression to the side as you turn away from him again.
Your non-answer makes him laugh. It sounds exactly like the colors of the sunset.
His beat-up van jerks when he puts it into park. The door on the side squeaks as the kids file out of it. Eddie’s does too, but you can’t hear it over him telling you to “sit tight.” 
You wait patiently in the passenger seat like you always do, smiling to yourself as the boy rushes around the hood to open the door for you. The hinges screech in protest. His wild curls billow in the wind as he smiles. “C’mon, sunshine. Our palace awaits.”
The group of you stand beneath the spinning neon sign he parked next to — glowing orange and white beneath a setting sun. Someone calls from across the parking lot, “Well, well, well. Look who it is.”
Your heads snap in the direction of the painfully familiar voice. 
Jason and the rest of his abnormally tall goons stand outside the new gym that just opened on the strip. The dark, vacant building wedged between The Palace and Family Video was no longer as scary as it used to be now that it was occupied. You were just hoping it’d be something more exciting. Forcing arcade nerds and gym bros into one spot feels like a crime.
“And they brought little miss wallflower, too,” Jason lilts with his pretty smile and straight teeth. His blonde hair is a darker shade of brown, damp with half-dried sweat. His lean form is unnaturally built underneath his white tank top and basketball shorts. 
It isn’t any wonder why he turned out to be such a raging douchebag. 
Someone so perfect needed at least one flaw.
“The gang’s all here, huh?” one of his other friends — Andy, you think — concurs from behind him, always in the boy’s shadow.
“Like what you see, fellas?” Eddie calls out from across the slab of pavement separating the group of you. He’ll never turn down an opportunity to take the piss out of the so-called jocks, all muscle and no brain. 
“What do we do when those assholes give us hell?” he’d often ask when you’ve had a particularly shitty day with them. “We give ‘em hell right back.”
Jason’s thin lips curl into a more mischievous smirk. His blue eyes are lighter in the golden sunlight, and they twinkle beneath the neon signs as he looks you up and down. “Yeah, actually,” he hums with his unabashed ogling. “I do.”
Mike’s lanky legs sidestep to stand ahead of you. He does it so swiftly, so instinctually, you don’t think he even really meant to do it. Despite the raven-haired boy halfway covering you, you cross your arms over your torso in a further attempt to keep yourself hidden. 
You feel so suddenly exposed in your frilly floral sundress — especially considering the only thing you wear to school is baggy jeans and baggier sweaters. You feel like you might as well be naked standing in front of them just now.
The younger boys stand on high alert as Eddie walks the short distance to Jason. The brief journey is made quicker when the blonde boy strides to meet him halfway. It’s a high school sort of standoff — neither particularly wanting to get physical because the real-life repercussions aren’t worth it. They just want to see who can piss each other off the most.
“She is pretty, isn’t she?” Eddie concedes with a grin, flashing you a brief glance over his shoulder. He turns away quickly at the sight of your wide, pleading eyes. He scrunches his nose in feigned sympathy. “I bet you’re real jealous, huh? Especially now that you’ve got nothing but your right hand keeping you company ever since Chrissy dumped your ass.”
“Watch it,” Jason warns through gritted teeth.
“I think I saw her riding around last week with Harrington, actually.”
The blonde boy’s sneakers scuff against the concrete as he takes a daring step closer. His piercing stare never wavers. “Don’t talk about Chrissy.”
“Don’t talk about my girl, and I won’t talk about yours,” Eddie retorts in lilt. And then, because he can’t help but twist the knife, he tilts his head to his shoulder and continues. “Well, I guess she’s not really yours anymore, is she?”
“I said don’t talk about Chrissy!” Jason repeats, louder than before, when he lets his anger get the best of him. One hand shoots up to shove at Eddie’s chest, using only enough force to make the boy stumble slightly back. 
While Dustin, Lucas, and Mike gear up for a fight, Eddie only laughs in response — big, boisterous, and boyish.
You don’t even realize you’re stepping in front of the group until you’re already doing it. The words seem to fly from your mouth without you even thinking about them. “Don’t touch him!” you shout. 
And even though it wasn’t particularly loud, it quiets in the mindless bickering all at once. Everyone turns to gape at you — Jason, Andy, Dustin, Eddie. Everyone is equally surprised by your outburst. Because you don’t speak. Ever. At least, not if you can help it. 
And it’s not because you don’t have anything to say, because you do. It’s just that your brain works too much, and your mouth can’t keep up with it sometimes. It’s easier just to be silent.
That’s what you’ve been known for ever since you were little. You went through all of it — the bullying, the sad eyes, the talks with teachers, the ‘is everything alright at home’s. Everything was fine, for the most part. Your childhood was equally as middling as everyone else’s. You just had a harder time being human than most people.
Jason smiles again, amused by your warning. “What was that, sweetheart?”
You swallow through a tightening throat. Your sweaty hands clench into balls at your sides. The words come out quieter than before, but no less meaningful. “I said… Don’t touch him.”
“Oh, so she does speak. Here I thought no one ever taught you how to,” the blonde boy laughs. You feel disgusting when his attention settles solely upon you. The lingering sick feeling is eclipsed by your gratitude that Eddie’s no longer in his line of fire. “I’m gonna be honest… I thought you were cuter when you were quiet.”
You don’t know what he means by that. You can’t tell if he’s being genuine, or if he thinks you care enough about what he thinks to slink back into your shell.
“Leave Eddie alone,” you retort drily.
He snorts. “Yeah? Or what?”
There’s a thousand words you want to say. You open your mouth to spit all of them at the boy across from you, but nothing comes out.
“Yeah,” Jason laughs at your silence. “That’s what I thought.”
You stand your ground when he walks towards you. His strides are slow and menacing, like he’s expecting you to back away. You might’ve if you were anywhere else — if Eddie wasn’t a couple feet away and the rest of your friends weren’t crowding behind you. You’re made somehow braver by their presence.
“This is a really cute dress, though, sweetheart,” the blonde boy compliments with a thin smirk. “You should dress like this more often. You know what? You’d really fit in at the strip club downtown— what’s it called?”
“Pink Paradise,” Andy answers without missing a beat.
Jason smacks his lips against his teeth. “That’s the one.”
“Is that the one your mom works at?” you wonder with your arms crossed over your chest. Your head tilts to your shoulder as you squint at him. “Is she still giving those two-for-one discounts?” 
Jason’s confidence stutters at your biting reply — even more so by the choked-back laughter accompanying it. Your boys don’t bother to hide their humored giggles, though the basketball team covers theirs by coughing into their fists.
“Ooh. I didn’t know you had such a much on you,” the blonde lilts as his blue eyes narrow. “I’m like… fifty percent more attracted to you now.”
“Leave Eddie alone,” you deadpan once more. “And go be a douchebag somewhere else.”
One of his friends breaks free from the pack. He’s tall, thin, and toned. He’s got the same haircut as Lucas: compact curls, squared off on the sides. You know him — Patrick McKinney. He’s the only one of Jason’s friends that was actually nice to you. Or, at the very least, he wasn’t a total asshole.
“Let’s go, man,” the boy ushers, nudging at Jason’s bicep. “Let’s go shoot some hoops or something. This isn’t worth it.”
You scoff out a laugh. “Oh, please— the only shooting Jason Carver does is into a kleenex. It’s why you were benched all last season.”
“I twisted my ankle!” the blonde boy defends, sounding weak and pathetic beneath the chorus of laughter as Patrick drags him away.
“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” you mutter, perhaps too quiet for him to hear, as Lucas pulls at your forearm to guide you in the other direction. His touch is still gentle — it would be uncharacteristic of him to be rough with you. It would also be a terrible idea with Eddie just a few paces behind the both of you.
The walk to The Palace is a silent one. There’s too much to say, and everyone’s just a little too amazed to say it. Eddie, however, never had a hard time killing a quiet. He rushes on long legs to match your quick strides, reaching you rather easily. 
“Hey, hey, hey— you okay, babe?” the worried boy wonders. He takes a gentle hold of your wrists when you reach the awning beneath the arcade. His chocolate gaze flits attentively over your form, nowhere near as leering as Jason had been. 
He can tell by your heaving chest and glassy eyes that you’re a little overwhelmed. When he takes your face in his hands, he finds that your cheeks are burning, too.
You nod into his warm palms in silent reply, back in the comfort of your shell all over again.
“What’d you do that for, huh?” Eddie singsongs with a quiet laugh. His thumb dances over your cheekbones as he grins at you. “You know I don’t like you getting involved with those assholes.”
“They don’t get to talk to you like that… Or put their hands on you,” you mutter. Despite your soft tone, Eddie can see the fury flashing in your eyes, getting angry about it all over again.
His smile widens — proud and hopelessly in love with you. “No. They don’t. Especially not with my girl around, huh?”
“Nope,” you murmur, popping the p. A sheepish grin pulls at your mouth, equally as proud and in love.
Eddie leans down to kiss you, guiding your mouth to his with the hands cupping your jaw. It’s innocuously chaste, being that you’re still standing in a public parking lot. You could never quite stomach the attention of PDA, anyway. His pink lips lock with yours in a fleeting peck, and his arms wrap around you a second later.
He smothers you into his chest, and you revel in every second of it. He smells like cigarette smoke and the cologne he tried to cover it up with. He smells like a home you could live in forever. 
You smile into the thrifted Blondie tee you got him — which he happily accepted because he loves you (even though he hates Blondie). He presses a kiss into your hair and smushes his nose into the crown of it as he laughs.
“‘Is that the one your mom works at?’” Eddie repeats with a soft chuckle, chest swelling with pride once more. “God, babe. That’s good.”
“Shut up…” you murmur.
“I’m serious! I didn’t know you were such a good smack-talker! I think you might be a genius, actually.”
“Don’t,” you grouse with a lighthearted scowl. You pull away from him only slightly — enough for him to put your face back in his hands again. You feel safest there, even if you are pouting up at him.
“You’re so cute,” the boy muses with a beam. His eyes glimmer like a sea of chocolate syrup, melting with all the love he has for you. “You’re like a cinnamon roll. A cinnamon roll that could bite people.”
“That’s exactly what I am,” you monotone and try your best not to smile.
Eddie couldn’t hide his grin if he tried. “And that’s exactly why I love you.”
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jockbroski34 · 2 months
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The Jockrooms
I hated gym class.  I wasn't athletic and I didn’t like playing sports.  Worst of all, I was stuck with the dumb jocks in my class.  Today, one of them, Kyle, threw a dodgeball right at my face.  The force was immense.  As the ball collided with me with the speed of a bullet train, I felt myself lose my balance and I tumbled onto the ground.  I sat on the ground in a daze, my head spinning from the raw power exerted from the ball.  If he threw it any harder, I’d be sent to the nurse.
Kyle was one of the tallest guys in the school, towering at an impressive 6’4, and he was just as strong as he was tall.  He was huge and he made sure that everyone knew it.  He was proof that God picked favorites in terms of genetics.  The guy had pretty much everything, except for a working brain.  He had little problem asserting dominance on those he viewed as weaker than him.  To him, I was yet another easy target with my wimpy constitution.
His jock friends cheered and high-fived him for how savagely he destroyed me.  Our gym teacher did nothing to discourage his aggressive behavior, but I wouldn’t expect any less from the football coach.  Those were his boys after all.  They could probably get away with murder and he’d still cover for them.  I sat down on the sidelines, covering my swollen cheek, as I was forced to watch Kyle and his goons dominate the rest of my team.
After what felt like an eternity, the teacher dismissed us to go change and I was relieved.  I was still covering my cheek, bruised from the dodgeball that was lobbed at me.  I sat down on the bench and opened my locker to change my clothes.  I felt a hand bump me as Kyle and his entourage walked past me.
“Sorry about that, bro,” he said, in a condescending manner.  “You’re supposed to dodge the ball, not get hit by it.  That’s why they call it dodgeball.”  I had to admit, that’s the smartest he’s ever sounded.  
“Whatever, you dumb jock,” I scoffed, ignoring his “advice” as he and his jock friends walked by.  I wasn’t sure if they were snickering at his lame attempt for a joke or at me, but I didn’t really care.  I doubt that they had much for brains either, with only sports and sex being the only thing keeping their testosterone-ridden minds running.
I glared over at Kyle while he was changing.  I had to give him credit.  He was very handsome, and he knew it, but that just made me hate him even more.  He was a guy who people either loved or hated, but his arrogant fuckboy attitude would be a turn-off for anyone who wasn’t as shallow as him.  I began to wonder why he had to be the one gifted with such a nice body.  If I was as strong as him, what would I do?
I finished changing into my regular school attire, but I felt the urge to go to the bathroom.  By the time I finished emptying my bladder, the locker room was completely empty.  Amidst the ghost town, something caught my eye.
I noticed a door that wasn’t there earlier at the end of the hallway opposite of me.  It looked out of place compared to anything I’ve seen in the school.  It was crimson with a silver knob.  I could hear something coming from the other side of the door, but I couldn’t make out anything.  It didn’t sound like construction.
For some reason, I almost felt like it was calling out to me.  Even though I needed to get to my next class, I needed to know what was behind the door.  My curiosity got the best of me as I put my hand on the handle.  It was warm, but not enough to burn my hand.  I hesitated for a moment before opening the door and I took my first steps in.
I tried to gather my bearings in this foreign room.  The room was very warm, steamy almost, with the smell of sweat lingering in the air.  It smelled like our locker room and the heat was far too much, almost like a sauna.  I knew I wouldn’t last long in this heat, so I figured it was best to head back to class.  I turned around, but instead of reaching for the door, I walked face first into a wall.  …This was where I came from, right?
“Hello?  Helloooo!”  I shouted, hoping someone would come to my rescue.  The only voice that responded was my own as my words echoed throughout the room.  I sighed.  Looks like I’ll have to find my own way out.
I realized that this would not be easy as I looked ahead.  I saw rows of lockers all around me and to my horror, the maze stretched out further than I could possibly imagine.  This room alone looked larger than the school itself!  Why did the school need this many lockers?  I decided to follow the line of lockers to find out if there was an exit at the end.  I started to hear a buzzing sound, not from the sounds of the lights, but from a different source, along with a voice so quiet that I couldn’t understand what it was saying.  I honestly felt like I was hallucinating.  Perhaps the ball Kyle threw at me actually put me in a coma.
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I followed the row of lockers, the numbers increasing with every step.  The bold red lockers complemented the dark walls and white ceiling.  As I walked forward, I was tempted by turns and corners, filled with even more lockers.  I did not want to risk getting even more lost so I simply walked as close to a straight line as possible.  I found myself sweating profusely, drenching my T-shirt and jeans.  As I was getting more and more sweaty, I was also getting dehydrated, and there seemed to be no sign of any water fountains.  I was surprised that they had not installed any, but that wasn’t even the weirdest thing because nothing made sense here.
My heart sunk as I entered an empty room, a dead end.  If whoever built this place had any sense of interior design, there would be a door here.  I observed my surroundings, but there seemed to be no sign of any way out.  This was going to be longer than I thought.  I realized I would have to give an explanation to my teacher about why I was so late, but she would never believe an excuse like this.  That is, if I can even find a way out of here.  I looked down, surprised to find a bottle of some sort.  It looked to be some sort of beverage.  It looked to be a sandy brown.  I would’ve preferred…no…I desperately needed water, but I would be a fool to ignore any amount of hydration.
I untwisted the cap, and was surprised by the strange smell of the liquid.  It didn’t smell foul, but it didn’t smell sweet either.  I closed my eyes and took a sip, but I grimaced at the mixture of bitterness and saltiness.  The chalky taste lingered in my mouth, but at least it made me feel more alert.  Despite the unpleasant taste, I knew it was better than nothing, so I chugged the bottle before dropping it on the ground, making sure not to miss any drop.  To my surprise, I felt more full of energy than I ever had before.  But for some reason, as my body was starting to digest the drink, I felt as though the room was shrinking before my eyes.  Wait, was I getting taller?  Maybe this place is messing with my head.  To be honest, I wouldn’t mind being a couple inches taller.  Maybe Kyle would stop picking on me if I was on his level.
The downside, however, was that I was starting to feel even more sweaty to the point that my clothes were now flooded to the point of no return.  I knew they would smell of sweat forever no matter how many times I washed them, so I figured that stripping would be the better option.  I can always change back into my gym clothes when I get back.  I desperately hoped that I was all alone here so no one would see me in this embarrassing state.  I looked at the locker at the end of the room.  1000.  The numbers went up to at least 1000?  This had to be some kind of sick joke.  I was frustrated, but I knew I had to retrace my steps in order to find a way out of here.
A strange idea entered my head after walking into several more dead ends, seemingly out of nowhere.  If I went to my own locker, would I find something there?  It sounded like a stupid idea since I would miss out on other potential paths, but it just felt right.  Besides, I had no other leads.  My locker number was 0136.  I continued walking back trying to test if my hypothesis was correct.  My body was trying to fight back against my exhaustion and my mind was trying to stop itself from being drowned out by the subliminal noise.  It felt like this place was messing with me in some way.  I had to find a way out of here.
Eventually, my eyes lit up as I turned a corner to find lockers numbered in the 0100s.  I felt my body guiding me until I found a locker that appeared to be left open.  All of the others were closed, so maybe it had some significance?  0133…0134…0135…0136!  I chuckled at the coincidence that my locker would be the one that was different like I knew it would be.  Inside, I found yet another one of those same drinks from before, a piece of paper, and a…red jockstrap?  I chugged the drink desperate to feel hydrated.  For some reason, it tasted better than I remembered.  The paper appeared to be some kind of riddle.
“Only this way is right.”
“The combination will show you the light.”
Turns out I was right to come this way.  For some reason, it seems like this room was made specifically for me.  I was more curious about the second line.  “The combination will show you the light.”  If my locker number was what led me here, then surely my locker combination would be the next hint.  05-13-34.  51334?  I shuddered, knowing that my journey would be a lot longer than I had anticipated.  Hopefully this helps me escape from this hell.
I started to wonder who wrote this, but I didn’t even know who built this room in the first place.  None of this makes any sense.  I might not even be in school anymore.  This could be some sort of pocket dimension.  I could be dreaming, or I could be in a coma.  I looked back in the locker, my eyes fixated on the red jockstrap.  It looked like it had already been worn and was a size too big for my skinny frame, but for some reason, I felt an urge to put it on.  I stripped out of my dripping boxers and put on the jockstrap.
To my surprise, it actually fit perfectly around my crotch area.  I expected to feel uncomfortable, but instead I felt liberated.  If only there was a mirror in here.  My cock bulged as it stretched out the red fabric.  I could’ve sworn it looked bigger, but I knew I was just imagining things.  Regardless, I felt faster and full of stamina and virility.
I was not an athlete though.  Only the jocks wore jockstraps, and I hated them, but I couldn’t even remember why.  Why was I so mad at Kyle earlier?  My memories of today started to blur.  I couldn’t think straight.  I couldn’t remember anything.  I had no comprehension of time anymore.  Who knows how long I have been in here.  I sprinted ahead down the hallway, with a newfound sense of energy that I had never felt before, as I needed to find locker 51334.  The heavy sound of my big feet created a steady rhythm, almost like a drum.  My body seemed to move on its own like it was on autopilot.
As I ran forward, the audio grew louder, yet the words remained just as shrouded as they were before.  Despite that, I felt like I started to understand the words deep down.  A weird contradiction, I know.  Wherever the source of the noise was, it had to be coming from that direction.  I knew in my heart that this was the right way.
I kept on going for what could’ve been hours.  Who even knows at this point.  The concept of time was foreign to this place.  If you told me I was gone for a week, I’d believe you.  I kept on finding the same drinks from earlier on benches scattered around.  They were the only thing keeping my head in the game.  They gave me strength, but eventually I stopped seeing them as I became reminded by the intense heat of the room and of all the dead ends I had run into.  I had to be in the 40000s as I began to feel fatigue again and it felt like my body was finally about to give in.  My body felt sore and swollen as if I was still recovering from a workout.  Workout?  Since when did I care about the gym?  Maybe this jockstrap was rubbing off on me more than I thought.  But I’ll never be like Kyle or the other jocks, I assured myself.
I kept going.  My body was pushing itself to the limit, while my mind started to wander.  I became worried that I was gonna miss the game that was on tonight.  Me and the bros were going to watch it together and I didn’t want to miss it.  I couldn’t even comprehend how unnatural these thoughts felt.  I should be thinking about playing the new update for my favorite MMO, not watching sports.  But bros always come first…
I felt like I was going crazy, like this giant locker room maze was having an effect on me.  I was awakened from my trance by a sudden realization.  I needed to get to practice.  It was like an alarm clock went off in my head.  The last thing I wanted was to get dropped from the team due to poor attendance.  This renewed sense of urgency was what kept me going instead of passing out from the heat and exhaustion.
At long last, I was greeted by a room that was surprisingly familiar to me.  It felt like a second home to me.  It was like the actual locker room in my school, but on a larger scale.  I looked at the number next to me.  50000.  This had to be the right way.  I was almost there.  The background noise was at its loudest here, but I still could not find any source, but at this point I didn’t mind it.  It honestly helped me calm down a little.  I checked every locker in this large room, until I saw it.  51334.  It was half open, so I pried it open, with a sense of strength that I had never felt before.  Inside the locker, I found another note and a larger bottle of the same drink.  I gulped every drop down like I had just found an oasis.  This one tasted better even compared to the rest.  I read the note, hoping to be free from my prison.
“Inside the locker you will hide”
“The way back is on the flipped side”
I had to get in the locker?  It was a weird instruction, but I followed the orders.  I was surprised I was able to fit into it with my bulky build.  I turned to the other side to read what it said.  My eyes widened as I felt a sense of dread run down my spine.
“Close the door but don’t be shocked”
“When you wake up, you’ll be a jock!”
Shit, I didn’t want to become one of the jocks!  I valued my intelligence too much to stoop down to their level.  But it was already too late as the door shut itself on its own and I felt the ground below me vibrate.  Was this truly the only way out or was I doomed to join them from the start?  I tried to break my way free, but my strength dwindled as my eyes dulled and I passed out from exhaustion.
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I woke up on one of the benches to the sound of metal and heavy chatter.  To my relief, I was finally back in the real world.  The football team was getting ready for practice.  Damn, I really did miss the whole day.  To make things worse, Kyle was standing right over me.  Great.  Despite everything though, I actually kinda missed him.  That was probably the first sign that something was very wrong with me.
“Bro, wake up!” he said as he shook me.  I looked down.  I was dripping in sweat and I was wearing only my jockstrap.  The fact that I was wearing the same red jockstrap was proof that it wasn’t a dream.  “You alright dude?  Coach says you were passed out here for hours!”
I regained my consciousness, surprised to see him concerned for me.  “Bro, you’ll never guess what happened.  I was in this, like, weird maze, dude.  Lockers everywhere.”  I was genuinely shocked by the words that came out of my mouth.  I sounded like a total dudebro.
“Bro, are you high?  What are you talking about?”  Kyle chuckled at how absurd I sounded.  I felt embarrassed because I honestly sounded as stupid as him.
“I’m not lying, bro!  There was a door right there!”  I got up and pointed towards where the door should be.  It wasn’t there.  I looked like I was insane.
“You sure you’re okay after gym, bro?  I figured you’d catch that dodgeball since you’re such a good wide receiver.  Must’ve gone too hard.  Practice should help clear your head.”
“Practice?  Wide receiver?  What the fuck are you talking about?”  I didn’t play any sports.  Before today, I didn’t even know any teams outside of famous ones and the ones local to us.  I didn’t know any positions, any rules, or any players.  If that was the case, then why did it all feel so familiar to me?
“Did you lose your memory or some shit?  Let me refresh you, bro.  You play football and you’re our wide receiver.  You hang out with me and the boys every day.  You’re a total jock, bro.  You’re hardly a genius, but surely that rings a bell, right dude?”  My eyes became fixated on his charming blue eyes, and I felt myself sink into them as if they were the ocean, as he reminded me about my place in the world.  Finally, things started to make sense…but…
What the fuck?  You hated Kyle.  You didn’t play football.  You weren’t friends!  But for some reason, that didn’t seem right.
You loved Kyle.  He was one of your best friends.  You guys played football together.  You guys basically ruled the school.  You didn’t need to think much because you compensated with raw strength and power.  Brawn over brains, bro.  You were a jock and you always will be one.
“Huhu…Now you’re making sense bro,”  I chuckled.  I only now realized how much I changed, with how deep my voice was.  How much of a cocky douchebag I looked with that smirk plastered on my face.  How much bigger and stronger and taller I was.  How toned and perfect every muscle in my jock body was.  I should hate this, but why does it feel so good?  “I had a dream that I was someone else.  A total nerd, bro.  It was awful.”
“That person never existed.  This is who you were and always will be.  Just think back to when we met, bro.”  He said it with his usual cocky grin, but I felt no malice from it.  I assumed he was gaslighting me into believing that I lived a different life, but he seemed genuine.  I remembered him cracking up at one of my dumb jokes at practice and we started hanging out both in and out of school.  Memories of the practices and football games and parties we shared filled my mind and I smiled as I looked fondly back on those days.  No…I shouldn’t remember this.  But for some reason, it all felt real to me, like I accidentally stumbled into some parallel universe where I was one of Kyle’s jock bros.
I felt any semblance of my former self lose control as my jock self remembered that he was the only me.  I was an intruder in my jock body, someone that was never there and shouldn’t be there.  I felt my thoughts slow down as my new self started overwriting any old memories with his own, and I started to remember who I really was, a jock.  I wanted to die inside, watching me become another asshole jock just like Kyle, but as I was fading away, I started to remember why I liked being a jock so much in the first place.  I got to be big, strong, and popular.  I could fuck anyone I wanted with my massive cock.  Who cared if I was a little dense?  Definitely outweighed being a fucking nerd.  I knew it was the jock in me talking, but it didn’t matter anymore because that’s all I was now.  My cock bulged further in my jockstrap as my conscious mind was engulfed by my real self.
“Sorry bro, it’s just been a crazy day.  Let's get ready for practice.”
“You’re going to practice in just that?  Haven’t gotten off yet today, bro?”  Kyle chuckled, pointing at my red jockstrap, which was already leaking with precum.  I became embarrassed as I noticed the damp stain on my favorite jockstrap.  And that Kyle was staring right at my 9 inch bulge.
“Nah, bro.  I gotta get changed.  Why are you looking at my dick, bro?”  I became defensive, not comfortable with one of my bros staring at my erect cock.  Kyle was hot and all, but this just felt wrong to me.
Kyle stammered, looking for an excuse.  I could’ve sworn that his bulge grew as well in his tight football pants.  “I just never realized how big it is, bro.  No homo though.”  He snickered, trying to ease the sexual tension.  “Come on, Coach will be pissed if we take too long.  Probably will make us run extra laps.”  Before we left, I took one look in the mirror to admire my awesome body before joining Kyle and the others.
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I had been playing football ever since I was in middle school so it’s no surprise that I was a natural.  I worked up a serious sweat, but it was nothing I wasn’t used to with Coach’s exercises.  He worked us to the bone every day.  When I came home, my mom was cooking dinner and she asked me how practice was, and I told her good as usual with a smile on my face.  For a second, I was surprised my mom knew I played football, but then I remembered that my parents were always supportive of my athletic career.  They always dropped their plans to cheer me on at my games.
Later, Kyle invited me and the bros over to watch the game.  I went over there as I had done many times before and I was greeted by my bros, people who I’ve known for just as long as Kyle.  After all, If they were his bros, they were my bros.  We laughed and joked around as we always did until the game started.
We gathered into Kyle’s room, big enough for seven guys, but man did I forget how much we reeked after practice.  We always shouted a ton during the game and I’m honestly surprised we never got any noise complaints from the neighbors.  It was like our own little frat party hosted in Kyle’s room.  We got really into it, but we were devastated when the opposing team scored in the last minute to gain the lead and win the game.  A wave of sadness and anger filled the air as everyone started to leave.  Everyone but me.  Kyle told me to stay for a little bit longer.
“Are you gonna make me feel better or what?”  he ordered.  He was really upset about the loss.
“How, bro?”  I responded.  Did he want me to crack a joke for him?  Give him a bro hug?
“I figured you remembered.  I need someone to relieve my stress.”  He grabbed his massive cock in his shorts and wiggled it around, helping me put two and two together.  “We found out one drunk night how good of a cocksucker you are, so you agreed to ‘lend me a hand’ if I ever need it.  Don’t worry, this is our little secret.”
“Oh, sorry bro.  I completely forgot.”  God, that was a wild night.  It was an embarrassing request, but I knew I was just helping a brother out.  I got on my knees and serviced Kyle as he made himself comfortable.  He grabbed the back of my head with his firm palms, covered with callouses from years of pumping iron, and pushed his girthy shaft deeper into the depths of my mouth.  I was surprised at my lack of a gag reflex as this mass of meat clogged my throat.  I swallowed load after load of his hot, sticky semen until we had enough.
“Gotta say, bro, you suck dick better than like 90 percent of chicks I’ve been with.  You sure you’re not a little faggy?”  he teased.  I laughed and rebuked his claims.  I’m sure even some straight guys would be tempted by him and his impressive rod, and I’m no different.  We quickly changed the subject and we pretended like that never happened.  Neither of us wanted the other to know how much we enjoyed it.
To this day, I don’t know what the purpose of the jockrooms was.  Doesn’t really matter though.  As far as I’ve known, I’ve always been a jock and that’s all anyone has ever seen me as.  It is real though.  It was after gym class a few weeks later.  When we were changing, I saw a nerd, Kevin, walk down the same hallway I did at one point.  I felt like I knew him at one point, but that obviously wasn’t true.  Why would I hang out with someone like him?  I hid around the corner and watched as he approached the red door.  I smirked as he put his hand on the door and opened it, taking his first steps into his new life.  If you can’t beat us, you might as well join us.
I was eager to see Kevin at practice later.  He woke up on the same bench I did, wearing a jockstrap like me, almost completely unrecognizable from the person he was hours ago.  He took a moment to adjust, but we helped him remember how much of a jock he was.  Once a jock, always a jock.  I will never understand why the two of us thought we were nerds before.  After all, I’ve known Kev most of my life and I was the one who introduced him to Kyle and the others.  He’s been my best friend since 3rd grade and we were inseparable.  We were practically in sync on the field.  It felt awesome knowing that we were the kings of the school, and whoever hated us was just jealous that they’re not us.
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Red Hood Enterprises
Jeff: Okay, here’s the deal. Boss is unexpectedly unavailable tonight, so it’s up to us.
Assembled Red Hood Goons: *nodding*
Jeff: And we are NOT going to screw this up, right?
Goon: *more nodding*
Jeff: Good. Now, who has the posters?
Later
Mrs. Abarca, High School Physics Teacher: Can I help you, gentlemen?
Jeff: Hi, yes, we’re here for the career fair?
Mrs. Abarca: Do you have your confirmation forms?
Jeff: Oh, yeah, right here.
Mrs. Abarca, reading the form: “Red Hood Enterprises…”
Mr. Garber, High School History Teacher:
Ms. Patel, High School English Teacher:
Mrs. Abarca: *clears throat* May I see your display materials?
Dan: I gott’em. *holds up one of the posters*
Ms. Patel: Those look… very lovely.
Dan, beaming: Thank you, ma’am.
Mr. Garber, reading a flyer he just got handed by one of Red Hood’s…employees: “How to read and understand a benefits package…”
Jeff, nodding: It’s important sh- … uh, stuff to know when looking for a job.
Victor: Yeah, otherwise you might end up with some kind of fu- … er, lame insurance coverage or something.
Ms. Patel: Insurance coverage…
Aiden: Yeah, like my first job? Total shi……… really lousy. Benefits. Pretty bad. Didn’t even have dental.
Ms. Patel, reading over the flyer: These are actually all really good points…
Mrs. Abarca: Well. Why don’t you boys just go on in and get your things set up.
Jeff: Thank you!
*a dozen or so red hood goons head towards the gym*
Ms. Patel: Do you think this is okay?
Mr. Garber: Do you think he’s hiring?
Mrs. Arbaca: Was that Aiden Sergeant?
Mr. Garber: Huh, I think it was.
Ms. Patel: Who?
Mrs. Arbaca: Oh, he would have been here before you started teaching.
Mr. Garber: What, six years ago or so?
Mrs. Arbaca: Hmm. Yes. Nice kid. Very good at math.
Ms. Patel: Huh.
Later, at the manor
Duke: Okay, you would not BELIEVE who I saw at the career fair.
Steph: What? Who?
Duke: Jeff.
Steph: Wait, like-
Duke: Yeah. THAT Jeff.
Steph: Wow.
Duke: Right?
Steph: What was he there for? Demolitions?
Duke, shaking his head: HR representative.
Steph: Huh.
Duke: For Red Hood.
Steph:
Steph: Huh.
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clockwayswrites · 1 year
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The Fic I'm Still Not Writing (2)
Part 1 that I totally didn't write.
-
“Boss.”
Jason looked up from the report he was going over to see two of his people standing in the the doorway to his office. They shifted nervously and he prepared himself for bad news. While he didn’t exactly aim for a friendly demeanor (that’s what being around as Jason was for), he did attempt to make it clear his people could talk to him. If shit was going to go down then he wanted to know so that he could get on top of it.
Like now.
Fuck.
Things had been looking so good, too. The new shelter would be up and running next week. The supplemented housing for single parents and their kids was doing well— Jason had been by as, well, Jason early that day to make sure everything was on the up and up— and there had been no new shit heads trying to sell drugs on his street corners. He should have expected for it to go wrong.
He tucked the reports away and leaned back in his chair before motioning the two in. Ralph and Marco, Jason thought, placing the two as they came to sit across from him. Ralph mostly helped manage the gym and train new people not to get killed— an ex boxer and coach from when times were better. Marco had just recently risen to lieutenant.
Jason had no clue what trouble the two of them would be bringing him together. Maybe someone did something stupid and needed more training.
It seemed they didn’t know where to start either and kept trading each other uneasy looks. Jason shifted, just slightly, in the way he knew made his chair creek ominously and watched both his men start.
“So, um, us goons have been doing some reading,” Ralph finally started. Jason wasn’t much fond of the term ‘goons’ himself, but for some reason his people had embraced it.
“Reading.” Jason replied, keeping his voice carefully monotone. Where was this going?
“Right, reading,” Marco picked up. “Found some ourselves and then Yasmine called us idiots and suggested some other stuff, but well, we’ve been doing reading. And we didn’t know if you had been.”
What.
“So, we, erm, well we just thought maybe we’d pass along the important bits?” Ralph said, wringing his hat in his hands so hard Jason thought he’d tear the seems apart. “See, when ya enter into a polyamorous relationship with a new partner, it’s important to make them feel included.”
What.
“Yeah,” Marco said with an enthusiastic nod. “And we get that you and Jason already have a rhythm and everything, but Danny seems like a really sweet kid—”
“Little feral.”
“Ralph’s right, little feral, but sos you, Boss— no offense. But he seems sweet. So we don’t want to see him be hurt none just ‘cause you aren’t making room for him.”
“What.” Seriously, what?
“Yeah. Sos like, in our reading—”
Holy fucking shit. His goons did reading about polygamy for him. Because Danny had asked him to share himself. What the fucking fuck.
“—it was important that you make sure that Danny feels like he has space in your space too.”
“Yeah,” Ralph agreed and then pulled an honest to God printout from his back pocket that he smoothed out on the corner of Red Hood’s desk before sliding it over. “Small things, see? Like making sure his favorite snacks are in your apartment. Or stocking up the bath products Danny uses. Don’t just make him use what you or Jason uses.”
“He uses a 5in1 bar of soap, I’m not encouraging that behavior,” Jason growled. (Why the fuck did he say that? He only knew that as Jason.)
It made his men pause for a moment before Marco gave a little nod. “Fair enough, deserves better and all. Buy him something special to use then.”
“What’s wrong with 5in1?” Ralph asked.
“Shut up Ralph, I’ll send you some reading,” Marco replied. “Point is Boss, You have to show Danny he's just as important. We just want this to work out for you, Boss.”
“Right.”
Ralph nodded. “We see how you two look at each other is all. And how Jason looks at him. We aren’t blind, Boss.”
“Right.”
“Um, right,” Marco repeated. He stood up and slapped at Ralph’s arm till Ralph did the same. He did reach out and scoot the printouts a little closer though. “Just, we’re here for you Boss.”
Jason gave a nod of his helmet before watching them scurry out of his office.
He picked up printouts. They did research for him. His little pack of supposedly hardened criminals (fuck the fact they were more and more becoming humanitarian aid) had read up on queer relationships for him.
Shaking his head Jason set the print outs aside and tried to get back to the reports he’d been reading before whatever the fuck that just happened happened.
The third time he glanced over at the printouts he gave up, folded him up into his back pocket, and stormed out of his office. He headed for Jenny’s, the 24/7 dinner that had survived in Crime Alley for nearly 70 years through sheer determination and having good enough food and coffee that no one dared fuck with it. (Didn’t hurt that Jenny kept shotguns under the counter and was a mean shot.)
The bell clattered at his entrance as he barged in and headed to the booth in the back corner. Bright blue eyes glanced up from the pile of textbooks and notes and Danny had the nerve to smirk at him.
Jason slammed his hands down onto the table, the coffee mug rattling from the force of it. Danny calmly picked it up and cradled it to his chest.
“Want to explain to me why the fuck I just sat through two of my people trying to explain some of the finer points of polygamy to me?”
Danny choked on a sip of his coffee. “What?”
“You heard me.”
“Oh Ancients, they—” Danny cut himself off with a snort that soon devolved into full on laughter. Jason gave up looming and took a seat as he waited the laughter out. Finally Danny recovered enough to ask, “Are they trying to talk you into it or out of it?”
“They think I’m already in it.”
It took effort not to stiffen as one of Danny’s feet brushed up against his calf. He was smirking in that way that Jason was coming to both love and hate— and that only seemed to come out around Red Hood. “You could be, if you’d give me an answer.”
“You asked to share Jason.”
Danny gave a little shrug. The motion caused the oversized sweater that Jason was just realizing was his to slip down Danny’s bare shoulder on the one side. “I figured you came as part of that deal.”
“What has Jason said about it?” He asked, as if he didn’t very well know.
“Nothing, I haven’t asked. I’m not a home wrecker. I’m not going to tempt a man to cheat if you’re not into the idea.”
Jason crossed his arms.
Danny watched him back from under his dark lashes.
This was insane.
“You know I won’t take off my helmet.”
What the fuck was he doing?
“Never said I need you to. I’m more creative than that, Boss.”
Fuck.
Danny's smirk widened.
---
Fiends, the lot of you. I'm still claiming I'm not writing this shut up. We're blaming the poll, alright?
The GOOOOONS. They're just trying their best to be supportive! They want everyone to be happy!
tag list, I guess? @addie-lover-of-stories @bathildaburp @d4ydr34min9 @sometimesthingsfallapart @idfk-man10 @vythika96 @worthlesswall @aroranorth-west @chrysanthemum9484 @ver-444 @impulsiveasshole @meira-3919 @lazy-bouqet @cryinginthevoid @thegatorsgoose @cutelittlebeanie @blankliferain @ramblingkat @ailithnight
They're absurd, you're all absurd. ...okay I'm absurd too. Stay delightful, my darlings.
Edit: master post of parts I didn't write. Nope.
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thelibrarian1895 · 23 days
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Gotham is WEIRD, especially the schools
So, just going to say it, gym classes in each and every Gotham city school, and Gotham private school, result in Gotham educated kids who don't skip gym class being just a little less than world class martial artists by the time they graduate high school. There are some who are better than others of course but for the most part, if you went to school in Gotham and you did your best in gym, you developed the ability to beat up an average of five non Gothamites without breaking a sweat. You also had an immediate edge if you wanted to try stunt work or feature in the action genre in movie or tv shows thanks to your elementary/middle/high school gym classes. This is how Batman can still have trouble with mooks in Gotham. It's not just quantity that gives him trouble, they have some legit skills to go with size, strength, and willingness to try to break someone's skull for money. Most gym teachers in Gotham are defectors from a martially adept cult, retired assassin with no concept of how normal not in Gotham gym classes are generally conducted, or Gothamites who were raised with the weird gym classes so they're teaching what they know and what they know is how to beat the snot out of people who have less than Bat level training. And the rest of school administration is generally too intimidated or doesn't care or they're happy the kids have an extra edge in case of school shootings to say or do anything about the scary gym teacher.
This definitely helped both Jason and Tim when they started their Robin training. This helped Stephanie when she decided to be a vigilante under her own power and gave Duke an edge when he had to go through his whole mess. This also made Dick's childhood athletic antics and Damian's current school antics stand out a great deal less than they would in schools outside of Gotham.
So yeah, only in Gotham is your gym teacher 100% a former assassin/mercenary/goon/mafioso who will make sure that you can hold your own in a fight against almost anyone.
Unfortunately for those who end up being goons or rogues, almost does not include the Bats.
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trmpt · 6 months
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admiringlove · 5 months
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[17:45] . . .
when you look back on the past few weeks and see how your best friend has been acting, it makes you question almost everything you know about him.
sugawara kōshi wasn't a nervous guy—confident, even a bit of a charmer, you’d say. you'd playfully call him a goon because of how he is, but now, he's pulling away, leaving you puzzled. did you unintentionally cross a line during your last conversation? the uncertainty lingers as you wonder if a thoughtless comment pushed him away or if there's a deeper reason behind his sudden distance.
you see him in the hallways, and somehow it feels like there’s a mountain between the two of you. you lock eyes with him when you leave your afterschool club, and he turns away. just what had you done?
your heart ached at the sight. it sure didn't help that you were completely, irrevocably in love with him. if anything, it made things worse. so you decided to play it cool, be just like him. you'd stroll past him in the hallways without a second glance, hoping it would make your heart hurt a little less. intentionally leaving your photography club early, dodging the volleyball team dismissal, so he wouldn't catch a glimpse of your face. maybe it seemed a bit petty, but hey, he started it. you were just honoring his wishes, in your own way.
but one thought pricked your mind. cruelly enough, it never left your head.
what if he'd stumbled upon someone new? you recall seeing him in conversation with a charming girl from the class next to yours, sharing laughs during the break. what if he'd clued in on your feelings for him? was that the reason behind his avoidance too? if that held any truth, it only made a cascade of anxieties in your mind. what if, because of some trivial entanglement, you'd lost your best friend of five years?
the looming dread of losing him wrapped around your heart like a suffocating shadow. it wasn't just the prospect of a fading friendship; it was the fear that an unspoken emotion had inadvertently created a rift between you. the thought of him finding comfort in the company of another, laughing with someone new during recess, sent waves of unease crashing through you. the uncertainty gnawed at your core, leaving you in a state of perpetual restlessness.
and if he had broken your heart into multiple pieces and found someone new, you don't think you would simply stop loving him. it would be slow, and painful. you reckon you wouldn't be able to love someone new for a long, long time. forgetting him would be like a nightmare.
and yet, today remained unaltered. you exited the photography club room, observing as volleyball team members sealed the gym. sighing, you realized you were a little late this time. the first-years, particularly hinata, greeted you from a distance. you responded with a modest smile, delicately waving in return. trouble with suga was the last thing you desired, fearing your thoughts. what if he did found solace in someone else? the notion pierced your heart. deep down, you sensed that daichi, ever the astute observer, would uncover the truth about the unsettling connection between you and the serene setter.
but what you don't expect, is for all of them to walk toward you. you watched in inexplicable horror as the entire group followed the senior years' lead. hinata and kageyama, always fighting and messing around. nishinoya and asahi, talking about something with vigor and calmness at the same time. tanaka, bothering kiyoko with amorous words and her having no response to them whatsoever. yamaguchi and tsukishima, bantering about something with yachi listening in. the rest, talking to each other and watching the chaos of it all unfold.
and sugawara kōshi, in the front, looking right at you with an emotion you couldn't quite put a finger on. your throat went dry when you watched them greet you. you responded with a meek hello in return, deciding to join the group towards home.
your gaze nervously flits between kōshi and daichi up front, leading the group, as you join tsukishima and yamaguchi. the blond shoots you a knowing look with narrowed eyes, seemingly privy to your intentions. he begins to question you, but you widen your eyes in a silent plea.
he only rolls his eyes, "that won't work on me, senpai."
"i hate you," you groan, deadpan expression etched across your face.
he emits a dry chuckle, "let's be honest, i'm your favorite first-year, with an actual functioning brain," then his gaze shifts to hinata and kageyama behind you, throwing them the most disdainful side-eye he can muster, "unlike certain individuals we're acquainted with."
yamaguchi laughs, "that was uncalled for!"
yachi only shakes her head in silent reverie. you furrow your eyebrows at the blond, "you give yourself too much credit. i like yachi the most."
"oh yeah? even though i was the first to figure out you're practically in love with-"
a forceful shove to tsukishima's stomach elicits a resonant groan, catching daichi's attention as he glances back with a raised brow. you shoot him a knowing smile, smoothly carrying on with the conversation. yachi erupts into laughter, while yamaguchi discreetly covers his mouth with a hand.
"if you dare say the next part out loud, i'll make sure you won't set foot on a volleyball court for the next five months," you grit your teeth, a steely resolve in your gaze. the middle-blocker scoffs, "i'll report you to the authorities for battery and assault."
"i won't even let you get to the police station in one piece," you say, smiling innocently. he pouts softly, scoffing.
the remainder of the fifteen-minute walk passes with surprising ease. as tsukishima and yamaguchi bid farewell to the group, the middle-blocker casts you a knowing look, "here's hoping you won't turn into a nervous wreck when it's just the two of you later."
"thanks," you reply sarcastically, releasing an exasperated sigh. he chuckles as he saunters away, leaving the group now comprising only the first-years with tanaka leisurely strolling alongside. you nervously clutch the straps of your backpack, fiddling with them absentmindedly.
observing kiyoko and tanaka diverging from the group at the next turn, daichi follows suit when his home approaches. he graces you with a soft, reassuring smile. it weirdly offers a sense of solace, as though he senses the imminent solitude with suga or perhaps infers your feelings for the setter. regardless, you reciprocate the exchange, bidding your goodbyes.
and after an awkwardly silent five minutes, when your home finally comes around, you stop. he does too, looking at you with an expression you don't quite understand. his eyebrows are ever-so-slightly crunched, his lips beautifully pursed and his eyes look at you with so much longing that it almost physically hurts you to return the gaze.
"i-i, will see you tomorrow then," you say, clenching and unclenching your hand. he nods ruefully, but just as you're about to unlock your front door with your keys, you hear him say, "wait!"
you turn, eyes brimming with anticipation and worry, and you hum softly. he pulls you back to the road, and exasperatedly he says, "i need to talk to you."
"what for?" you ask, furrowing your eyebrows again. he lets out an almost annoyed sigh, "you've been ignoring me. and i don't know why that is, but seriously-"
"what do you mean, i was ignoring you?" you interrupt, almost offended, "you started it!"
"that's different! and besides, how many times have i told you to not interrupt people in the middle of their sentences?" he argues. you fume, pouting as your eyes turn glassy in a mix of emotions. you don't know what you feel. but you knew that there was definitely anger and fear involved.
"shut up!" you say, eyes threatening to spill in a fit of rage, "you were ignoring me and i thought i did something wrong!"
"what do you mean? i thought i said it was something entirely different! you did nothing, stupid!" he argues again. your lip quivers, and a few tears escape in anger, "stop yelling at me! if you just told me that you wanted space, none of this would have happened! it's your fault, idiot!"
his gaze softens, and he walks toward you. you have half the mind to take a step back, but it seems like he can read your thoughts. because he immediately clasps your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. the touch sends chills down your spine, making you question everything you've ever known. he sighs, so softly that it makes your heart flutter. and he places his hands on your shoulders, looking directly into your eyes as he says, "you did nothing, okay? in fact, i did something. and i felt the need to avoid you because i thought it would help. news flash, looks like it made things worse."
"i thought you hated me," you sniff, eyes red as you look at him, hands still clenched at your sides. he shakes his head, "i could never hate you."
"and then the other day," you continue, voice croaky, "then i saw you with that pretty girl at recess the other day. and i thought you replaced me, and i-i don't know, i just-"
his arms wrap around you tenderly, and he almost shoves your head into his chest. you groan, and he says, "sorry."
"no, um, i just.. i don't know," you say, voice muffled, "i thought you liked her."
"and why does that bother you?" he raises an eyebrow. you narrow your eyes, playfully shoving him, "you know already, don't you? why are you making this so much harder for me, you asshole!"
"oh, i don't know," he smirks softly, "maybe i just want to hear you say it."
"well, i'm not gonna," you cross your arms over your chest, "i hate you."
"i ignored you because i realized you feel the same way as me," he laughs softly, looking away. the wind picks up, and the orange light of the drooping sun almost reflects from him. his eyes look so ethereal as he smiles tiredly at you, and you blink profusely.
you stand there, confused, and he walks up to you, brushing a part of your hair away from your face. you furrow your brows, processing the information. but he only comes closer and closer, until his lips are inches from yours. he smiles softly, "i'm gonna kiss you now. stop me if you'd like, okay?"
"h-huh?"
kōshi's lips fall on yours, he leaned in and your breaths merge in a dance of shared vulnerability. your lips met tentatively, a delicate connection that held the weight of unspoken confessions. it was a kiss born from the depths of unresolved emotions, a fusion of longing and the bittersweet taste of the uncharted.
as your lips lingered in that ephemeral union, a myriad of emotions flooded the space between them—the ache of unrequited desires, the torment of what-ifs, and the sweet agony of a connection finally acknowledged. the emotions you felt were too complicated to explain in words.
"wait, so you don't like kimi from the other class?" you ask, confused when he pulls away. sugawara laughs delicately, shaking his head, "you're so dumb. yes, i don't like someone else. i like you."
"oh," your lips part, holding his face in your palms, "alright."
"stop ignoring me now?" he asks, hopefully. you nod, a slight blush cascading from your cheeks. and he takes a step backward, "i'll see you tomorrow, okay?"
"okay," you smile softly.
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yorickish · 3 days
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was thinking between sets at the gym today about a guy who's a total degenerate gooner, like I'm thinking 5+ hour goon seshes, maybe an amphetamine type gooner or just really dedicated naturally. but he doesn't watch look at or read pornography of any kind... he's blasting rope for hours on end purely to his imagination. he has a goon cave but it's just a plain, empty room with blank white walls and a hardwood floor upon which he lies and dreams. isn't this man closer to god than most of us?
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cyfics · 1 year
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Title: School Bully
Warning(s): NSFW!, Aged up!, femdom, pussy eating, pussy drunk Izuku
Pairing: Izuku x fem reader
Pronouns: she/her AFAB
Synopsis: You bully the class nerd.
Word count: 2K !!
Note: Everyone is aged up! Unedited + not proof read
On aO3 as Cyfics btw
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2nd POV
You were walking the schools halls idly without a care in the world, your skirt was riding up your thighs but you didn’t bother pulling them back down.
“Hey Y/n, was wondering when you’d stop slacking off.” Katsuki rolled his eyes playfully at you “Slacking? Me?” You acted offended by his words “Me and the gang were gonna pick on Deku after this last class, you in?” Katsuki asked.
“On Deku? That short loser you and I harass on a daily basis? Well of course! I wouldn’t be myself if I said no.” You laughed to yourself, Katsuki joining you in your little laugh fest as he escorted you down the hall.
The two of you exited the building to the sports area outside, next to a small building where you each got changed into your sports uniform, a huge oval of grass standing behind you two. The rest of your class followed behind not long after you two got there, some of the scrawny extras were already out of breath. ‘Pathetic.’ You thought to yourself.
‘How in the fuck are they gonna survive sport if they can’t even walk from the lunch to the sports field?’ You truly felt bad for them.
“Alrighty class! Now that you’re all here, I’d appreciate it if you all did a few laps around the oval.” The gym teacher instructed before blowing his whistle. “Don’t tell me what to do! I’ll do what I want!” Katsuki growled at the teacher.
“Yeah! We should all skip out, hey?” Katsuki’s goons were delighted at the thought of doing no work. You rolled your eyes at all of them and got a move on, you didn’t care about skipping out. You were happy to the the laps.
You were running at your own pace, which was noticeably faster and quicker than the other students trying to catch up to you. You smirked to yourself as you noticed this, suddenly looking back and gawking at what you saw!
Deku the loser was right behind you! You furrowed your brows and hurriedly moved along, you were now making a show as to not lose to that scrawny runt. Your legs moved faster than your brain did, rushing around the oval to avoid Deku catching up.
“You’re doing good for a girl!” One of Katsuki’s goons called out to you, making no effort in haltering you. “Don’t let that shitty nerd surpass you!” Katsuki was obviously as pissed as you were, and neither of you wanted Deku to beat you.
“Slow down! You’re gonna run out of breath, this isn’t a race god damn it!” The teacher shouted at you. You felt a tinge of embarrassment wash over you, that was true, you didn’t have to challenge Deku where there was no race..
You slowed down and came to a stop, putting your hands on you hips before approaching Katsuki. “Weak, why’d you stop?” Katsuki commented “I did better than you, look at you! You didn’t even try!” You defended yourself “whatever. Here’s a bottle or whatever.” Katsuki offered you a drink bottle.
You took the drink and sipped some water from it, watching as Deku stopped running and came walking over to the lot of you. Deku was covered with sweat, his hair sticking to his forehead from the amount of sweat he was drenched in. You grimaced as you also noticed his shirt clinging to his now damp body.
“Hey Kacchan! Did you see me out there?” Deku asked cheerfully “Tch. I didn’t see shit. Get lost loser!” Katsuki waved him away, Deku didn’t move from this spot though and continued to talk everyone’s ear off.
Deku moved his arm suddenly which accidentally bumped into you and caused you to drench yourself in water, you gasped before quickly growing angry and growling at him. “Shitty loser! Look what you’ve done- you’ll pay for this!” You moved to attack him but was stopped by the teacher.
“Do I need to write you up again, Ms L/n?” The teacher asked you, he could really get on your nerves sometimes. It made you wanna just jump onto him and punch his brain out of his head, but you couldn’t, you had at least some sort of school record you wanted to uphold.
“I’m so sorry, Y/n!” Deku apologised profusely “I don’t care how fucking sorry you are! Fix this right now!” You shouted at the poor boy, Deku huddled up to himself and thought for a moment “C-Come with me! I have a spare shirt you can wear.” Izuku offered you.
You didn’t wanna agree to it but you also didn’t wanna be standing around with wet clothes, so you half assedly agreed and walked off with him. You two ignored the sounds of Katsuki’s goons making fun of you, saying you two were gonna kiss in there.
You entered the changing rooms with Deku, looking around curiously and seeing little to no changes than the girls locker rooms. The only change was that the whole room smelt like boy musk, and it was occasionally littered with clothes sprawled about the floors.
You stood beside Deku as he explored his locker for a spare shirt for you, your eyes wandering to look at his arms. He was a scrawny weak little loser with thin arms, it looked like he had never worked out a day in his life, he had no muscles whatsoever.
“You’re so pathetic looking Deku, you’ve got no arm strength whatsoever.” You commented “h-hah??” Deku was taken off guard, defensively covering his face with his arms. “I’m not hitting you idiot, I’m just saying the truth. You’re a sad little loser and you look like one too, maybe try putting some muscle on those bones.” You insulted him.
Your mouth was bitter with the words slipping off your tongue “H-Hey! I’m trying my best!” Deku frowned “Not doing well enough obviously. Maybe you should try not lying to yourself first!” You laughed to yourself at what you had said.
“Maybe you should- keep nasty things like that to yourself!” Deku’s voice grew shakey and you could tell that his eyes were starting to water too, you would’ve felt bad if you didn’t understand the meaning of your position. You had to be the big bad guy so that little dumb weaklings like Deku could be taught a lesson.
“Maybe you should work out, ever think about that?” You giggled “I-I do!” Deku exclaimed “Not well enough. Have you been eating properly to be able to bulk up?” You asked “e-eating properly..? Like what? I’ve just been eating the stuff my mom makes for me!” Deku explained.
“Are you fucking serious? You get your mom to cook for you? Why don’t you do it yourself, that’s pathetic.” You scoffed at him “I-I’m just always so busy so-“ you cut him off “stop trying to defend yourself. You know that you’re a loser.” You smiled coyly.
“Anywho! If you’re trying to stop being such a small fry maybe you should start eating more protein.” You commented “protein?” Deku was confused. Were you really helping him out? “Hey, I’ve got something with lots of protein you can eat.” You offered him.
“Really? What?” Deku tilted his head in confusion “If you want it you’re gonna have to kneel on the floor.” You smirked at the boy, knowing he’d do just about anything anyone asked him to anyways.
“Why do I have to do that?! That’s so embarrassing- what If someone caught me like that?” Deku whined “They wouldn’t. Theres a whole forty or whatever minutes left and no one’s stupid enough to skip in here.” You explained.
“Except for us..?” Deku pointed out. You sighed “except for us.”
Deku confusedly lowered the the locker room floors, looking up at you and waiting “why do I have to be down here for it?” Deku pouted. “Make it easier for you.” You stood closer to him, basically hovering directly over his face.
You watched Deku’s expression go from pure confusion to pure embarrassment as you lifted your skirt up your legs, Deku’s face grew red and he attempted to back away- back hitting the cold locker doors.
“W-What’re you doing??” Deku was all red and flustered “if you don’t want it just say so. I’m not forcing you to do anything. But if you want protein, pussy juice has a lot.” You explained to him “I- Ah-“ Deku was stammering all over the place.
Deku slowly started to nod his head, shutting his mouth to stop the many times he was stammering. “Good, now get over here and get to work you fucking loser.” You pulled your skirt up again and revealed your lace panties to the nerdy boy.
Deku moved in closer to you, shyly and gently kissing your thighs as you stood above him. “W-What’re you doing idiot?” You asked him with a slight confusion in your voice “I’ve never done this before..” he admitted.
“What’s hard to get? Mouth on pussy. Get to work.” You crossed your arms and watched the flustered boy struggle. He brought one of his thin arms up, his fingers moving your lace underwear to the side. The sight of your pretty pussy almost sending Deku into cardiac arrest.
Deku leaned in, feeling the heat coming from your core. Deku shyly kissed your clit, his tongue slipping past his lips to flick at it. Your left hand immediately flew down to tug on his hair, the other hand being used to bite down on to muffle any noises coming out of you.
Deku took this as a sign he wasn’t doing the worst, growing slightly more confident when he licked at your clit again, swirling his tongue around it. This action continued before his tongue slowly licked lower, Deku growing curious at what his tongue has found.
Deku used his hands to spread your pussy open a little, his tongue slipping into your tight hole. You couldn’t help letting out a soft groan, your hips rocking up against his face. Deku’s tongue slid in and out of you, one of his hands grasping onto your thigh while the other one was brought up to play with your clit.
The added pleasure made it hard for you not to make any sound and Deku knew this, he surely did, that fucking loser bastard was doing this to you on purpose.
Deku’s bright green eyes flickered up to look at you from the position he was in, innocent eyes staring into yours as he was licking at your hot wet cunt. You let out a muffled moan, your hand grasping harshly onto his hair as your hips bucked up against his mouth.
You came undone, legs shaking as your cum leaked out of your pussy into Deku’s mouth. Deku groaned to himself as he had the taste of your cum on his lips, his freckled face pulling away to finally get some air. “You.. taste.. so good..” Deku was breathless “Gross. Don’t say that.” You spat at him.
Deku stayed seated on the floor, you looked down at his pitiful state and then realised he had a huge tent in his trousers. It looked like his dick must be pretty huge, a slightly blush rushing to your cheeks.
“What are you waiting for? Get off the floor loser!” You berated him, Deku sighed before hopping up. His facial expression looked very different to the one you’re used to, he looked almost drunk. Like he was pussy drunk or something.
“I’m not done- let this pathetic loser fuck you please..” Deku whined “Gross. You’re probably a virgin, besides you’re just Deku- I’d never let someone like you fuck me.” You took his shirt and left the change rooms, slipping his shirt over your head as you left him alone in there.
Deku cursed under his breath to himself, he had never ever considered liking you and would even go as far as to say that he had hated you a little even - but with what happened.. He had fell head over heels with you, or at least your pussy.
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