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#he could actually become not a good guy? but a neutral guy at least
moonit3 · 8 months
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THE PERFECT LOVER!
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➥ warnings/notices: yandere, violence, obsession, codependency, blood, murder, gender neutral reader but you are into guys only, axel is a little sh*t at first but then becomes a yandere, reader’s ingenuity, implied depression, slow burn, stalking, obsession.
➥ yandere! rent-a-boyfriend x gn! reader
➥ synopsis: desperate to be loved after rejections and being stand up numerous times, you hire a rent-a-boyfriend to delude yourself that someone actually loves you.
➥ a/n: with the poll done, here the post choose by you guys! for the story, i think i got this idea from the rent-a-girlfriend manga? but the story is pretty boring and don’t lead to anywhere as every character dumb ^ ^ , so i have decided to write something based on this plot with yandere, blood and some violence. this piece won’t have any smut on it, sorry. this work is longer than my others, aware.
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➥ like every start of the weekend, you are left to be alone at a friday night that you believed to be the day that you were going to meet your soulmate, but that was wrong. turns out the guy isn’t coming up for this second date as he texted, sorry. but you aren’t as attractive as I thought you would be!, resulting in you paying the drink you ordered was you were waiting for him to show up and walking back home.
➥ arriving home, you just throw yourself into the bed, ignoring the cute clothes and makeup you put on to impress that idiot, that doesn’t matter with the tears already flowing down to your chest. why this keep happening to you? all people you know or see in the streets are happily living their lives with someone at their side, even having children after years of being together. but you, you didn’t even got to the second phase of dating nor a boyfriend, all guys would just ghost you after the first date (if they even bother to show up).
➥ could it be that you are destined to be alone? your heart is breaking piece by piece with every failure that lead you to a final attempt in order to make you feel less lonely, a rent-a-partner dating site. it’s really bad that you are hiring someone to pretend to be your love, your are paying them to make up for your loneliness. you are quite pathetic, right?
➥ scrolling at the numerous pages full of candidates, you came across one that easily called your attention. axel, auburn hair with freckles all over his face and of course, a cute smile! the picture itself made you blush and already imagine the millions scenarios with him. a picnic at the park, maybe a shopping date where he buys you the jewelry you always wanted or even holding your hands! stay chill, [name]. he is a rent-a-boyfriend, not a real one, he is getting paid for it.
➥ and you did hire him for a completely service next day, your heart start beating faster and you couldn’t help but spend some hours preparing the perfect set of clothes to impress axel. something that is both casual, yet classy to give him the impression that you aren’t desperate for this nor that you never had a properly relationship before, nah, you are just trying to forget about your exe (at least that what you’ve told in your bio).
➥ once the day finally arrives, you put the best clothes from your wardrobe and waits for axel to show up at the cafe where the date will be set. sitting next to the glass window, taking a sip your favorite drink, he arrives. the redhead boy sit in front of you with that smile on the face, already acting and analyzing you from head and toes, oh god. he is even handsome in person!
➥ the date start so good! he is truly a gentleman with his manner and his acting is amazing, the way he holds your hand at every moment and how he pays attention in whatever you are talking is more than enough to make you blush. you feel lucky to have hired a guy like him, he truly makes the experience feels to real that you ended paying him more just to stay a little longer than you planned at first, and of course, he made it worth it.
➥ when his job was done, axel walked you back home despite not having do it, but he did and even hold your hand in the way. he said it’s to protect you from any possible danger or guy that might try to flirt with you, making you blush more and more (his plan is working!). once you got home, he kissed your forehead and waited until you got inside to leave with that smile of his, happy that everything is working out perfectly.
➥ to you, he is the perfect boyfriend that you always wish to have since the very moment you learn about romance, that’s why you are going to hire him more. and to axel, you are more than willingly to pay more than usual just to him pretending to be your boyfriend, aren’t you a little silly? you must be really lonely to have hired him from that stupid site, but he isn’t complaining, after all, you are the one paying him.
➥ then more and more dates happen, axel pretending to be your boyfriend while you began to truly falling in love with him, completely forgetting that he is just with you for the money and ranks of the enterprise he is part of, yet it’s easy to notice that you believe that axel is in love with you, that he will stop being a rent-a-boyfriend to become your real boyfriend. so you propose it to him after many dates, only to be rejected.
➥ his laughs are tormenting your mind and his words are unforgettable. you really thought that i loved you? you are so funny, [name] and quite pathetic too. do you really thought that i would stay with you if wasn’t the amount of money you spend on me? you are delusional for thinking that you are worth of my love. with that, you ended the contract with axel and leaves him immediately with tears ruining your makeup and clothes. he expected that you would apologize to him, but no, you blocked him from your social medias and deleted the photos that you posted with him. despite being his highest paying client, axel moved on to others clients and you moved on to find someone else.
➥ a couple of weeks passed and he couldn’t stop thinking about you at all. the expression you gave him whatever he would surprise you, the small gifts you gave him that he always wanted and the kisses you two share when it was his time to leave. why is thinking about it? you were just a client like everyone else, but why you are in his mind? he needs to stop thinking about you. so he began taking even more to job in an attempt to forget you.
➥ it was working until he catch a glimpse of you during one his job, you are serving tables at a expensive restaurant that his date asked to come and there are visible marks of dark undertones beneath your eyes. did something happened to you? he wants to ask it, but that would ruin the date and he won’t get his payment, so he keeps to himself and tries to pay attention on the woman that hired him.
➥ at some point of the date, he excused himself to go the bathroom, where he got hear some faint sounds coming from the kitchen and of course, he wanted to check it. there, he saw you hugging another coworker of yours in tears and your voice broken him, the way you spoke to your friend about being stupid enough to think that you are worth of love and how you are never going to fall in love again. axel knew that he did hurt you, but never expected it to hurt you so much to make you feel horrible…he needed to apologize.
➥ after his date, axel wait for you at the back doors and as expected, you were there, but weren’t alone. there is another guy standing next to you, someone he recall to be another waiter of the restaurant, someone who is too close of you with a arm around your waist. you replaced him? no, you can’t do it. axel began to talk, at least try, about his mistake and how he will repay for all the things you did for him, he even knee on the ground to ask for your forgiveness for his acts.
➥ it’s embarrassing that he is asking forgiveness from someone he treated like trash, but axel has to do it to beg for your forgiveness and to get back together with him, this time to become a real couple til their last breath on earth. i know that i was an idiot, a fucking horrible person and that y-you deserve someone better than me, but i promise that i have changed to be someone better just for you! let me become your boyfriend, a real one this time and then we get married one day , have a family if you want and grown old together. and he spoken even more til he loses his voice.
➥ you didn’t speak, not able to talk for hearing so much of axel’s rambling, but you did slap him harder. he is acting like he is the victim in this situation and that made you yell at him for a couple of minutes til you were done. the emotion you put in your voice made axel cry of guilt and once you left him along your friend, the redhead began rethinking about the ‘relationship’ you two shared weeks ago. it was so perfect and he ruined that.
➥ after that, axel began stalking you in his free time and leaving gifts for you in your doorsteps, hoping that you would accept his handwriting notes full of apologies and money, only to be left devastated when you didn’t even bother open the letter and throw it away in the trash. but he didn’t give up, no, he still has hope to change your heart and accept him once again.
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@moonit3 writings
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dilatorywriting · 1 year
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Monster Mayhem: Donkeys & Dragons [PART 2]
Gender Neutral Reader x Malleus Draconia Word Count: 3.1k
Summary: Everything's all fun and games until everyone assumes you're just being a Horny BardTM when you have, in fact, actually been kidnapped by a dragon.
🌶️ Obligatory Warning for Mild Spice
[PART 1] [PART 2] [PART 3] [PART 4] [EPILOGUE]
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“Wow,” Ace whistled, long and low, and you fought a twitch in your jaw.
He and Deuce were certainly beat to shit, but not quite ‘hurled dozens of feet through the air and a roof’ level of shit, so your spell must have cushioned at least a little of the fall. The pair of idiots stood at the entrance of the cavernous room, shifting back and forth on their heels and faces twisted up in varying degrees of horror. 
“I mean, I know there’s a stereotype about bards and whatever,” he continued, aghast. “But, really? Really?”
You grit your teeth. The pointed chin resting atop your head shifted and you felt claws flex at your hips.
‘My friends will probably be coming back here soon to find me,’ you’d entreated, not five-minutes prior.
‘Your friends?’ the dragon had repeated, slow, like the concept of comradery was something completely alien. And then his eyes had narrowed. ‘Ah. They intend to steal you away,’ he’d said with all the indignation of someone who’d clearly forgotten he had literally just proclaimed his intent to the do the exact same thing.
Sparks had shot out from between his teeth, and the already too-sharp black nails tipping his fingers had curled into talons—ashy darkness trailing up his arms like a seeping stain.
‘What? No,’ you’d lied. ‘They would never. I’m sure they’re just curious. Whether I’m still alive or not, I mean.’
‘Oh,’ he’d blinked, that venomous ire seeping from his gaze as if it’d never been there to begin with. ‘I suppose that does make sense.’
So when your loveable idiots had eventually stormed in—swords drawn, banners flying—you schooled your countenance into something as placid as possible. Something that perhaps conveyed ‘I would love for you guys to help me out here, but also I would really like not to see the three of us become tonight’s entrée. So like. Maybe sit this one out.’ But whatever expression you ended up making clearly wasn’t doing what you were aiming for if Ace’s first instinct was to accuse you of Horny Bard Shenanigans.
Or maybe your face wasn’t the problem. Maybe it was just the nearly seven-foot-tall, naked, dragon man draped across your shoulders. Who’s to say.
“This has nothing to do with that,” you snapped, ears burning.
“Do with what?” The newly dubbed Tsunotarou rumbled. He was pressed close enough that you could feel the worlds roll through his chest—annnnd you were going to stop yourself right there and focus very, very, intently on getting through this conversation alive.
“Human things,” you spluttered frantically.
“Ah,” he hummed, his chin shifting from the crown of your head to dip down and instead rest atop the curve of your shoulder. “You’ll have to explain it to me later, then. I do find our cultural differences very intriguing. You humans are so… new age.”
“Explain it to you later…?” Deuce frowned, and you could see the words zipping around behind his eyes to slowly put themselves together into a cohesive thought. He shot ramrod straight and whipped his arm out accusatorily. “You’re staying?!”
“Of course,” you said, with all the enthusiasm of someone with a knife held to their throat. You locked eyes as obviously as you could—hoping he’d get the message. ��It’s in everyone’s best interest.”
You could see the pinched look on his face, the heavy weight of discontentment tugging at his brow. There was a war being waged in that man’s head—a battle between what lingering, frail, shreds of rationality and comprehension remained, and the desire to be a good friend and save our bard! Because mama said I should be good to my friends! You stared him down hard, silently begging, pleading, to just let it go. The fingers gripping his axe tightened and you could hear the leather of his gauntlets creak with strain. Tsunotarou hummed, something like amusement coloring the throaty rumble, and it tingled all the way from the tips of your toes to the cheek he was tucked up against. The claws at your side flexed—not deep enough to hurt, but firm enough to know that funny as the notion of a teeny, human, barbarian hurling themselves at a dragon was, it wasn’t going to be a good enough joke to earn said dragon’s mercy.
“Well, duh, you’re staying!” Ace interrupted slickly, sliding in front of Deuce and his burbling rage like a fox finally skulking from its hole. “Look at what a great new friendyou’ve made! You can’t just leave him here all on his lonesome, now can you?”
The low rumble skirting along your back melted into something that was very nearly a purr. Your eyes flickered to your captor’s face—or as much of his face as you could manage to make out, considering he had plastered himself to your side like an overgrown cat. His lips were curled back into that smug, contented, smirk—the tips of his sharp canines just barely peeked out over his bottom lip.
“We’ll come back and check on you, of course,” Ace continued. He waved his hand at the dragon, like they were old chums shooting the shit over a pint of ale in a tavern. “You know how it is. Gotta make sure they’re settling in all right—make sure you’re keeping with your honorable intentions and whatnot. How’s two weeks from now sound?”
“Two weeks?!” you wailed.
Tsunotarou grumbled, clearly also displeased. “I agree. That seems far too soon.”
“Two months?” the ginger countered easily.
“Ace!”
The dragon seemed to consider this new proposal quite thoroughly. You could feel his long lashes flick down against your cheek as his eyes went hooded, heavy—slipping back into his thoughts to ponder upon this newly proffered timeline. After a long, long, moment, he lifted himself from your neck and plonked his chin back down atop the crown of your head.
“That is acceptable.”
Deuce looked entirely unimpressed. You had a feeling you looked like you were about to shit yourself. Ace, naturally, seemed more or less content.
“Well then!” the traitor chirped. “We’ll see you when we see you then, yeah?”
You grit you teeth, but your gaze flicked to your other, kinder, friend and you bit back the slew of heinous insults brewing on your tongue. Deuce still looked more than ready to jump into the fray, consequences be damned. And you were not going to let your terrible, horrible, no-good, rotten luck end all his valiant attempts at redemption when he inevitably attempted to go toe-to-toe with the business end of a dragon.
“…Are you sure you’re gonna be alright here?” Deuce asked, face twisted up in distaste.  
There was a pissy rumble from over your shoulder.
“Do you doubt my abilities as a host?”
“Of course he doesn’t!” Ace cut in, ever the bootlicker. “And besides,” he drawled, elbowing his companion in the ribs. “You know how bards are. I’m sure this is right up their alley.” He wiggled his eyebrows and Deuce went pale—then green. Ace turned on you with a smile that was all vinegar. “Right?”
‘I should not let them be murdered horribly,’ you repeated to yourself past the crimson rage leaking into your vision. ‘I should not let them be horribly murdered—’
“Righteo!” you forced yourself to spit. And if you somehow managed to survive these next two months, you were going to string that red haired traitor up by his pinkies and feed him to the crows that lived outside your window.
Your friends slipped away slowly, hesitantly—Deuce looking like he’d been struck down by a horrid case of food poisoning or something else equally as stomach churning. Once they were gone, Tsunotarou lifted his chin from your head so that he could crane his neck over your shoulder and look at you more directly. Not that he had to try very hard, seeing as he was gigantic, whether on two legs or four.
“What was the small, ugly, one referring to?” he asked curiously. “About your profession?”
Your life flashed before your eyes.
“Bards are known for their hearty curiosity and drive to experience new situations,” you repeated, verbatim, from the little adventurer’s handbook you’d been gifted by Lord Crewel all those years ago.
“Oh,” he hummed, nodding into your hair. “Of course.”
.
.
The first major hurdle cropped up barely two hours later.
“I need to use the bathroom.”
The dragon blinked slowly, as if mentally tallying through a list of human bodily functions to try and figure out just what on earth you were talking about.
“Ah,” he said after a moment. And then he began to melt away—limbs stretching and cracking, and porcelain complexion bubbling up with inky miasma so thick and dark it may as well have been tar. It was both horrifying and awe-inspiring to watch, like some great creature of old emerging from an arcane cocoon. And not two minutes later, a familiar, ebony, dragon was standing before you in all its glory.
He lowered his snout and nosed around your shoulders for a moment, snuffling and searching. And then he pinched your collar between his teeth and hauled you into the air.
You tried not to scream. Really, you did. But humans just weren’t meant for flying, let alone while suspended between the jaws of a beast that could swallow them whole. By the time you landed, you were so wobbly and windswept that you nearly collapsed to the ground then and there, bladder be damned. Tsunotarou warbled something deep in his chest, and you glanced up past the thin veil of icy sweat dripping into your eyes.
He'd placed you into a blown-out enclave that had probably once been a very nice hallway. And in the corner was the remains of what indeed looked like a bathroom. You straightened yourself as much as you could and began hobbling woozily towards what you hoped was a proper, enchanted, toilet and not just some block of stone with a bowl at the bottom.
There was an echoing thud from behind you and you jumped, startled, and turned to see what the ruckus was all about. Tsunotarou had sat his massive head at the entrance. And he continued to sit there. Watching.  
“Uhm,” you mumbled. “Thank you.”
He stared, unmoving. You sighed and squashed your fingers into your temples.
“…We’re going to have to establish some boundaries,” you said. The dragon’s gigantic, neon, eyes closed and opened—like a question. “Boundaries,” you repeated. “Things that we do on our own.”
The beast’s lips flattened into a grumpy line and he grumbled something unintelligible at you, spitting loose sparks from behind his overly long canines.
However, mouthful of razor-sharp teeth in your face or otherwise, everyone had to draw the line between pride and self-preservation somewhere. And having to piss in front of an audience was apparently yours.
You waved your hands in a shoo shoo motion and those amethyst crests flattened irritably atop his skull. He settled in further, the structure of the terrace groaning beneath the weight of his scaly chin. You worried your lower lip between your teeth. It wasn’t exactly like there was a door or anything that you could just, like, shut in his face. And beating him off with a broom or something like a stray cat was out of the question—just out of sheer impossibility. You were going to have to get creative here…
An idea popped into your head and you leaned forward with a charismatic little smile that you’d unleashed on so many traders, and shopkeepers, and unsuspecting bakers that it ought to be considered a weapon in its own right. You’d practiced it in the mirror for weeks.
“I’ll tell you a story,” you offered, and his slitted pupils rounded a bit—intrigued. “That’s what I was before all this, you know. A storyteller.” You had his full interest now, those purple crests rippling behind his horns. “But you have to close your eyes,” you said. “It makes it easier to imagine that way.”
He stared you down curiously for a heartbeat or three, and then Tsunotarou’s gigantic, luminous, eyes slipped shut.  
You sighed and plopped yourself down on the decrepit, stone, toilet.
“Once upon a time,” you began, sweeping your cloak out in front of you to give yourself at least a little bit more dignity. One of those crests twitched at the sound of swirling fabric, but his eyes remained dutifully closed. “There was a bard who made some very terrible life decisions—"
.
.
The next bump in the road came the following afternoon.
“People tend to wear clothes,” you said.
He canted his head at you. “I am not a person.”
Oh for fucks sake.
Tsunotarou was stretched out along one of the many, grand, banisters lining what you assumed had once been a ballroom—lounging in the dim light like a lizard sunning itself on a rock. Apparently, before your arrival, he’d very rarely, if ever, shed his wings and scales for this more compact form. And he seemed to be thoroughly enjoying spreading himself out across all the new surfaces that the change in size allowed him. Part of you would have thought it was a bit endearing—seeing this eldritch monster merrily falling into the ‘if I fits, I sits’ way of life. The other part was sick of nearly collapsing in cardiac arrest every time you caught sight of his very naked self reclining across some new piece of furniture.
“Yes,” you intoned, deadpan. “But you look like one.”
He blinked slowly, as if putting together a thought. “I see. The dissonance of observing a vestige of humanity which does not actually fit the mold of a human must be disconcerting to you.” He rested a knuckle lightly against his chin as he pondered. “In the same way I may feel uncomfortable if you took on the form a dragon with no teeth or tail.”
“Sure. Whatever,” you bemoaned. “Just. Pants? Please?”
He observed you quietly for a moment, amusement dancing across his features. And then he grinned, putting the pointed tips of those impressive canines of his on full display.
“Well I suppose if you’re going to ask so sweetly.”
He sat up with a stretch that was outright spitting in the face of your plea for modesty, and then spread his hands. His black-tipped fingers twisted gracefully, artfully, and the cavernous room filled with the scent of packed earth and ozone. Soft puffs of emerald light glided along his arms, and in their wake sprouted tendrils of sheer, silken, sleeves. Those dancing lights traveled merrily from his shoulders to his hips, and then back again—spinning magic into fabric like little, ghostly, seamstresses as they went.
The soft glow faded and the silk settled around him with all the delicacy of a cloud. It was stunning, certainly. A true work of beauty. With billowing sleeves that cinched neatly at his wrists, and swept into an open window across his front. The fabric wrapped itself snuggly at his waist and draped low enough to offer at least what should have been the bare minimum of modesty. It pooled across his shoulders, splaying out into a split cape that looked eerily similar to the wings he dawned in his other, scalier, form.
But this lovely new ensemble—as gloriously shiny and magical as it was—was still nearly fucking transparent. And yeah, the shadows curling along the spiraling silk did a decent enough job at obscuring what ought to be obscured. But at the same time, somehow this impression of cloth, of loose fabric that dipped below his collar bones and hung uneven and open across his pale chest, was worse than the outright fucking nudity. Scandalous. Like walking in on a seduction scene in a trashy novel.
“…maybe you should just do whatever makes you comfortable,” you managed to cough out, gaze slipping downwards of its own accord. And then more down. You gulped. “D-Don’t feel the need to change yourself on my account.”
He stared grumpily at his swanky new outfit. And then back at you. His lips pursed into a pout.
“You don’t find it pleasing.”
Your eyes rolled up to stare miserably, tormentedly, at the ceiling, and you began reciting every religious verse you could think of. Thou shall not steal or covet. In the name of the Mother, the Crone, and the Hallowed Throne. Head, shoulders, knees, and toes. Aye, Macarena—
“It looks perfectly nice. I just think that you have as much of a right to be happy in your skin as I do,” you reiterated. “I—I mean, you’re already keeping yourself human more often than not just so we can talk.” Which was true enough, but also mostly an attempt to make it seem like your concern was genuinely aimed at him and not your steadily rising blood pressure.
“…you’re incredibly strange,” he grumbled after a moment, his brow tugging low on his forehead. More pouting. “And impossibly frustrating to read.”
The heat radiating off your face like a fucking active volcano felt ‘possible’ enough to you, but what did you know.
“That’s why you’re keeping me around,” you reminded him.
Ten minutes later, he was sprawled out with his head in your lap, the ridges of his horns bumping your hips and inky black hair spilling over your thighs. Naked as a jaybird.
“Tell me another story,” he hummed, eyes slipping closed.
“Sure,” you agreed, gaze once again firmly locked on the hundreds of cracks in the ceiling. You’d probably have them all memorized by this evening, or at the very least have managed to count them all up a dozen times over.
You were halfway through some yarn about armies made of playing cards and worlds beyond looking glasses when Tsunotarou sighed, heavy and bone deep. Content. And then he turned to bury his cheek into the rough fabric of your traveler’s pants with a rumbling drawl that was not unlike a purr. His nose pressed itself into the inseam of your thigh and your brain fuzzed out like you’d been shot pointblank with a Wand of Lightning Bolts.
“Child of Man?” he huffed after a moment—one, neon, eye flicking open to glare up at you grumpily. “What happened then? To the cat that smiled too wide and the man with the mad hats?”
“R-Right,” you squawked. “Uhm—so as I was saying—”
You stared back at all those cracks and started counting again from zero.
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kaeichi · 2 months
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love is in the air.
. . . and maybe that's why mikage reo can view the world with such clouded, pink-hued vision, and why nagi seishiro cannot breathe at all.
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series. nagi + reader + reo. gn! reader. reader likes guys. bestfriend! nagi. valentines/white day. highschool setting. swearing. humor. fluff & angst.
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prev ┊ next ┊ 01 … 02 … 03
⊹ 02 : radiant [wc: 4.6k]
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TWO YEARS AGO
“ah…found you, finally.” 
nagi huffs out, slightly out of breath as he leans against the railing of the staircase on the fourth floor. what a damn hassle, making him expend such excessive effort like this—it all could've been easily prevented if you just replied to his text asking you about his whereabouts. he figures your phone must've died, because there's no way you wouldn't have noticed his 7 texts of wya? in a row.
“been tryin’ to look everywhere f’you. next time, can you just tell…” he trails off once he steps closer and realizes you're not alone.
“seriously? him again?” your boyfriend len scowls, directing his caustic gaze at the topic of interest, who has conveniently decided to show up at the right moment.
except nothing about this is right at all. 
there's no good explanation as to why you feel your heart plummet. your best friend, your only trusted companion whose mere presence incites a familiar sense of comfort and an effortless, breezy smile from you; when you're with him, you don’t have to think much about the reasoning behind why he has that sort of ability, or why it feels like you're right at home whenever you're with him.
you just somehow know. and that's how it has always been.
being with nagi is supposed to be easy, calming, and freeing, even—so why is there a heavy pressure weighing down on you all of a sudden? despite everything, why has he suddenly become the last person you want to see right now?
“seishiro?” apprehensively, you ask, “what are you doing here?”
“i just came to get you. like usual.” while there's nothing wrong with what nagi says, you still inadvertently wince, hesitating to meet either male's eyes as an unpleasant feeling brews in your gut.
“yeah, but i told you i was gonna be with my boyfriend…”
here’s the thing: it's not like nagi doesn't know you have one. 
when you first told him about it, he thought it was a joke (a hilarious one, at that). he thought it might've been one of your delusions again, and in typical nagi seishiro fashion he only spared you a fleeting glance with heavy-lidded eyes and a congratulations, i guess in the most listless tone. and when you told him to go on ahead because you wouldn't walk home with him today, he failed to take it seriously once more, thinking it was one of your weird ‘loyalty pranks’ to see if he would actually go and leave you behind.
but when he didn't feel the usual tug on his shoulder, or your arm resting against the top of his dozing head to wake him up at the end of the class, he thought there was something slightly off. when he looked around and saw no trace of you around the classroom or even around the front of the school, he thought there was something really wrong.
nagi’s starting to find this stupid joke less and less funny.
could all of the previous days (or has it already been weeks?) you’ve been talking about this mysterious nobody be true? he should’ve paid more attention. so, yes—it's not like he doesn't know you have one, he just had a rather hard time believing it (though he doesn't know it's due to the fact that you are you, or because maybe he's just in denial about it).
what annoying, annoying jest. when did this so-called “relationship” even have the time to blossom? 
“oh…did you?” the white-haired male’s voice doesn't come out as smooth as he’d like. he scratches his neck, feeling it a bit clogged for whatever reason. he's glad he's not the type to wear his heart on his sleeve, because even if his voice betrays him, he can at least keep his expression neutral. “well, i’m here now, and i don't wanna walk home alone. i kinda forgot the way back, so i need your help—”
“seishiro!” you hiss, your voice clipped and bordering on desperate; a warning, one that goes right over nagi’s head.
“you know what?” a peeved voice cuts in—len’s, whose patience has worn thin. he has had enough of nagi demanding your attention that was supposed to be reserved for him. if you can’t even keep your eyes solely on your boyfriend, then you might as well be a good-for-nothing cheat. “forget this. i don’t think we’d ever work out if this continues.”
“w-what? wait, huh?” as your face crumbles, nagi is unable to grasp why he feels a faint throb in his chest at the sight. “let's talk about thi—”
“right, let's talk about it, hm?” when you finally meet len’s eyes, you’re barely able to recognize your boyfriend at this point, his taunting sneer morphing his face into someone completely different. is this really the kind, alluring lover that you fell for? “be with me, or cut off this… this nagi kid?”
“what? where did this come from? you can't just suddenly make me choose—”
“and there's your answer.” he scoffs, slapping your hand away that's unconsciously reaching out to him before turning around to leave. in a few rigid strides, he's gone, and you're left staring blankly at the space where he just was.
it is nagi who breaks the silence after a few moments. “…guess this wasn't a good time, huh?” nagi sighs, gripping the strap of his backpack tighter as you remain frozen. “well, at least we can go home now.”
“nagi.”
confusion clouding all over his face, he slightly perks up at your somber tone, a hint of unease setting in his stomach. he doesn't like whatever this is that he's suddenly feeling. “why’re you calling me nagi?”
“i think you know why. leave me alone, nagi.”
for quite some time after, those words remain the last thing you've said to him.
nagi has always been somewhat aware of his inability to comprehend feelings, whether it be his own or of others, but this time is the first time he's ever bothered by his lack of aptitude; the first time he's ever felt this swirl of foreign emotions engulf him, of strange, unknown sensations rushing to him all at once. what started as a mere bud sprouting along the expanse of his lungs, grew double—no, triple in size within a matter of days, poking and squeezing the spongy organ until its function proved near useless. 
the abundance of petals produced by these excrescences is nothing but a nuisance, blocking his airways and tainting his tongue with the bitter, awful taste of decay, which only seems to get worse with each passing week without a word from you. it's a pain, it's majorly vexing, it's—
“leave me alone, nagi.”
—it's suffocating.
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PRESENT
nagi still refuses to join the soccer team.
in the hallways, reo somehow manages to always find you and your companion throughout the day, greeting the both of you with unmatched enthusiasm—the kind that someone really shouldn't have at seven o’clock in the morning. everytime that happens, reo is only met with the same, vacant stare, accompanied with a blunt no without much thought.
after all, he's not the only one who came to recruit the white-haired genius. the volleyball, basketball, and softball clubs (even the cheerleading team, for some reason?) have all tried, to which he instantly shut down.
“why would i participate in sports? even walking is tiring to me,” is his simple reasoning every single time, without fail.
at some point, reo tries to bribe him with a brand new gaming console as a “customary gift”. not that there's anything customary about that, but you suppose rich people live in a different world than you common folks do (when you found out that reo arrives to school in a goddamn limousine, you've lost all interest in being more than acquaintances with someone as absurd as that).
however, that is when reo finally manages to elicit a reaction from nagi, a slight sheen in his eyes that made you immediately panic, dragging him away before he gives in and telling him accepting anything from mikage? i think the fuck not! (“why not?” “because we don’t want to get in debt by someone like him!” “oh, we don’t?” “yes, dummy! next thing you know, we keep ‘borrowing’ money from him and eventually when we can't pay it back, he ships us off to some remote island and makes us his slaves for the rest of our lives because we couldn't afford our debt!” “you watch too much horror movies, i think.”)
however, as irritating as one’s persistence could be, deep down you hope nagi accepts reo’s invite. you've always known about his underutilized potential, and how he himself is the only thing that's holding him back.
truly, a waste that is.
“i know that rich boy’s been really annoying about it, but why don't you try it out? even just for a little bit?” you ask nagi, having stayed behind during lunch in your classroom instead of heading to the crowded school cafeteria.
“don't wanna,” he mutters against his arms, head buried against the desk.
“why not? our teacher’s been hounding you for not being in a club, right?”
“i’ll just join the book club or something. now go away,” he says, probably trying to catch up on much needed rest, despite already sleeping through your morning classes.
“you slacker. just try it out so mikage stops bothering me too.”
nagi suddenly lifts his head up. “he’s bothering you?”
leaning your elbow on the desk nagi’s lying down on, you press your cheek against your palm as you snicker at his sudden mood change. “mhm. won't you save me, your one and only best friend? the one you swore to protect until the world collapses? me, an innocent, pure ethereal being who's cruelly subjected to harassment and—” 
he breathes out a long exhale. you brace yourself, racking your brain as you try to think of more ways to persuade him (without including the promise of reo’s “prize” or whatever suspicious deals you're sure the heir is involved with). 
however, in nagi’s perspective, it's not because he needed any more convincing, but because he can't believe he's actually willingly to participate in something so bothersome for someone's sake. “…fine.”
“wait, actually?! for real?” with your eyes nearly popping out of their sockets, nagi almost snorts at your ridiculousness. almost.
“you're the one who kept telling me to go for it, so why’re ya surprised?” 
his sleepy voice gets drowned out by your excited chattering. “wow, nagi seishiro is actually interested in something else other than napping and gaming? no way! noooo way!”
“it's annoying, but yeah.” he grimaces, regret already sinking in—but since he's doing it for you, he supposes it's alright. just this once, he can make an exception. “…you're coming with me, right?”
a pause. “um… no? unless you want me to be the token benchwarmer?”
“ah, fair.”
“yeah, yeah. besides, i’m already in debate club, so me joining you is out of the question.”
“not even as our manager?”
“nope.”
nagi visibly sulks, lips forming into his signature pout. cute. it almost looks like he's at a loss of what to do without you—maybe it’s a result of you and him being stuck together at the hip since middle school, and how he's grown dependent on you due to his lazy nature, but you're sure he'll survive on his own.
…probably.
“i’ll come watch your games though,” you quickly add in case he backtracks on his word, reaching over the desk and tousling his hair, messing it up even more. he doesn't complain like how he usually would, merely blinking his wide gray eyes at you. “i mean, what kind of best friend would i be if i didn't support you?”
that seems enough for nagi. he straightens up, a hand running through his now disheveled white locks, peering at you with a newfound motivation. “better keep your eyes on me, ‘kay?”
you grin, nodding. “duh. goes without saying, loser.”
sometime after that, reo, nagi, and yourself have now fallen into some sort of routine: nagi now has practice on thursdays and fridays after school, but sometimes reo swings by unexpectedly during lunch on those days to discuss with nagi what their training plans would be after school (unable to wait until the end of the day, apparently). not that nagi actually listens, but he has come to a realization that it’d be too much work if he were to refuse him, so he just lets him do whatever he wants.
would it be foolish to think that reo would let up once he’s gotten what he wanted? if anything, his apparent interest grows even more, which only encourages the rumors that are recently circulating about you. girls still glare at you in jealousy, while guys sneak judgmental glances at you, but reo manages to clear up any misunderstandings using his natural charm and influence, so you're fine for the most part. how thoughtful. well, it's his fault in the first place anyway. 
for some reason, you see him a lot more often than necessary.
…like right now, for instance.
when a flash of purple appears in your peripherals, you turn, met with the sight of reo’s handsome figure hovering by the doorway. the tall male is hanging rather stiffly in the middle of the entrance, as if unable to decide whether to come inside or not.
“mikage?” you decide to call him out. “what are you doing here?”
he flinches, akin to a deer in headlights. what's up with that reaction? is he not supposed to be here or…? “huh? well, i’m here for nagi, of course.”
“right.” you nod curtly. it's monday today; they don't even have practice until the next few days.
but even then, reo has picked the worst time to drop by, because nagi isn't even at school today. (surprise, surprise—he slept in. again.) just as you are about to bring that up, reo casually ambles over and pulls a seat back, sitting across you with a sheepish smile on his face.
by now, you've grown familiar with the scent of his cologne wafting in the air whenever he's nearby. it's a delicate yet expensive scent, fresh and woody, like musk with hints of apples and mint. a vast difference from nagi’s, whose smell is more down-to-earth, like fresh laundry and the breeze of early mornings.
other than the questioning glance you offer him, nothing happens for a few moments. reo opens his mouth as if to say something, but when nothing comes out, he reverts back to pursed lips and skittish glimpses. it's off-putting how he seems to struggle with striking up a conversation for once—you start to feel a bit awkward about the stretched silence, so you just shrug and continue eating from your bento. as long as he's not bothering you too much, you don't actually mind his company.
“want some?” noticing how you're the only one eating lunch, you absentmindedly bring up the chopsticks close to his mouth, urging him to take a bite out of your tamagoyaki.
that seems to finally snap reo out of his inner strife, his violet eyes widening as they flicker between you and the food, “y-you're feeding me…?” 
ah, crap—you’re so used to feeding nagi that you didn't even think twice before bringing the neatly rolled omelette to his lips. before you can retract your hand though, reo quickly composes himself, enclosing his fingers on your forearm to prevent you from moving away. “okay, i guess,” he mutters shyly before taking a bite.
a slight relief fills you as you watch him accept your offer, though that quickly turns into nervousness. “well? how was it?” you ask, observing the purple-haired male chewing carefully with a finger on his chin.
“did you cook this?” reo returns with a question of his own, peering at you through his lashes.
“you didn’t answer my question…”
“hm. did you?”
“what, is my cooking not good enough for the great master mikage reo’s superior taste buds?” you roll your eyes, feigning nonchalance as your face warms at the fact that he's deliberately avoiding your questions. you half-expect him to spit out the food; now that you think about it, surely he wouldn't enjoy eating something so bland and second-rate—
“hmm, not sure. i might need another bite to fully understand the flavors.”
you blink dumbly at reo’s coyness. well, he doesn't seem to outright hate it, so that's better than you are initially expecting. when you push the bento closer to him, he only stares at you expectantly, as if waiting for something. you stare right back, muttering, “what is it?” 
“uh…actually, i broke both of my hands. and my fingers too. all ten of them.” reo blurts out, simultaneously hiding his hands away from your view.
…what.
this is the second time you're at a loss for words because of reo. perplexed, you lean in, trying to take a peek behind his back. “your fingers seemed perfectly fine when you grabbed my arm.”
“well, a lot can happen in two seconds.”
“like…?”
“spontaneous functional impairment?”
i’ll show you a spontaneous functional impairment, you grumble under your breath. “i am not your maid.”
reo tilts his head to side, warmth radiating from the innocent smile plastered on his face. it's the same one he usually wears, the kind that makes one weak in the knees—one that you're fortunately immune to. 
(at least you think so, anyway.)
“…if i paid you, would you be more inclined?”
“piss off, mikage.”
reo chuckles, airy and soft, and you find it disturbing how a mere sound can easily disarm your guard. that's just the kind of person he is, you guess, barely even having to try yet the influence he holds over anyone (regrettably including you, to a certain degree) is undeniable. you ponder why someone like him is even here in the first place; doesn't he have more important stuff to do?
“kidding, i'm kidding! it's delicious.”
but when he assures you and you watch as his eyes crinkle with amusement, you decide not to sweat the little details. he continues, “i mean it. i’d love to have more, if you're willing, of course.”
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since hakuho high is a college prep school, your school’s soccer team is weak compared to the others, not to mention fairly new, established only recently by reo himself (thus making him captain, as if he couldn't be any more popular). it hasn't garnered much attention from its students—but since this is the first official match against another school, a pretty sizable crowd has filled the bleachers that friday afternoon, excitement and anticipation buzzing in the air.
on the way to the bleachers, you catch sight of your friend and his teammates warming up while the coach gathers them to hold his final group meeting prior to the game, most of them stretching their legs and some basking under the sunshine (and by some, you mean only nagi).
after the coach finishes saying his speech to the team, reo claps his hand against nagi’s back, making the latter wince. reo just hooks his arm around nagi’s shoulder, and you see his mouth moving and gesturing towards the direction of the bleachers when his purple eyes suddenly fall on you. sending reo a small wave, he waves back at you, albeit with more enthusiasm—which also made the girls surrounding you shriek. ah, right. you briefly think that you should start acting like you don’t know him in public, on the off chance that a crazed fan of his comes for your throat just for being involved with him.
nagi glances where reo’s line of sight is. you wave at him as well when your eyes meet, expecting him to just send one back in acknowledgment, but instead he starts jogging towards you. “you made it,” he breathes out once he's within earshot. 
“i said i’d watch your game, right?” you playfully jab him on the arm, observing how his legs look way more toned than you’ve last seen. has he always been this fit? seems like all that training he begrudgingly went through has paid off. “lookin’ fresh in uniform, seishiro. sorry i couldn't make it to any practices though, i couldn't ditch my own club.”
nagi shrugs, feeling content since you still made it. he reaches into his pocket, fishing out his beloved device and handing it to you. “can you keep my phone with you? i forgot i had it in my pocket.”
after nagi gets back to his team, you end up sitting on the third row of the bleachers as you wait for the game to begin. you fiddle with the charm on his phone. he still has it attached (you make a mental note to ask him about it again later), and you notice how some of the colors of the black beads have faded. a cursory thought passes, where you wonder if it's due to age, or if he touched it too often that the oils from his fingertips have worn the surface off.
you're leaning more on the former hypothesis—you can’t imagine nagi getting sentimental over a handmade charm that’s mediocre at best. or anything at all, period.
a sudden bump on your shoulder causes you to break out of your thoughts. a deep voice hurriedly speaks out, “excuse m—”
“len?” out of all people, why is he sitting next to you? 
you’ve barely seen your ex-boyfriend in the past three years. either he's good at hiding, or you're even less popular (or involved with anyone else who isn't nagi) than you think. to be honest, you've forgotten all about him, but you can still recognize his dark eyes and, annoyingly enough, even the scent of his cologne with just one moment of appraisal.
len looks at you, eyes widened and mouth agape, before he gets up and turns around, climbing up the stairs to find a different seat. you click your tongue, slightly ticked off that he ran away from you. again. okay, whatever.
just then, the referee blows the whistle, signaling the start of the game. reo gets the ball first touch, sneaking his way through defenders with his quick thinking and passes. you're impressed by his skill, but since this is the mikage reo we're talking about, you guess you should've expected it. the team moves accordingly, passing the ball back and forth between them, intensity already cranked up to the maximum so soon after it began.
well, mostly everyone is pumped up. nagi’s half-ass running makes you snicker, and you wonder if he's even going to do anything at all this match if his slouched, lethargic posture is anything to go by. but then you catch sight of his face when an opposing player comes up to him, his visage contorting from passive to mildly irritated. it's only a tiny change, hardly even noticeable, but since you've known him for so long you've gained a good understanding of these miniscule differences. you realize his opponent must have taunted him because now he's locked in, straightening up and dashing towards the penalty area.
for a pretty lax person, you wouldn't have guessed he'd be the type to be vindictive when provoked. most of the time, he does it unintentionally, showing off his unparalleled genius with barely any effort. the ball comes flying toward him, and it almost lands a few inches behind him yet he reaches it perfectly, twisting his body to trap the ball and swiftly kicking it to the goal in one fluid motion.
not even a minute in, hakuho scores a goal, and the world abruptly stops for a second.
absolute silence falls on the field, rendering both the opposing team and the crowd too stunned to speak or even move, save for reo who just beams at the prodigious striker.
“LET’S GO, SEISHIRO!” 
the crowd subsequently erupts with deafening applause and cheers the moment they break out of their stupor, jumping out of their seats and yelling out what was that? in wonder and amazement.
nagi looks up as he hears your voice so distinctly clear from the bleachers. sure, he might have been a tad more zealous about that first goal, but it's not like it was a hard one to pull off—though you and everyone else’s reaction says otherwise, so he must've done something cool.
…still, is any of that really necessary? nagi likes that you've made it to his first ever official match, but you look as if you're one step away from joining the cheerleading squad and be his personal cheerleader. he watches as you cup your hands around your mouth, grinning widely at him across the field, and he thinks that you've never changed at all since middle school. you're always too loud, too forward, too bothersome, too annoying—
but that makes you, you. he wouldn't want it any other way.
for the rest of the game, hakuho dominates the match thanks to him and reo. at some point, the white-haired striker vaguely remembers his captain telling him about some sort of a hat trick, and that it was a really difficult move to pull off (not really) so he tries doing that just to show off a little. i mean, it's my debut, and you're watching, he reasons.
it’s over before he knows it, the score being an impressive 7-0. after the referee blows the whistle and the game ends, everyone explodes into cheers once again, nagi’s teammates huddling over, some jumping on his back and some even lifting him up. 
“nagi!” reo cries out. “wow! i've never seen you worked that hard bef— wait, where are you going?”
when nagi glances towards the bleachers again, he sees you pushing past the other students, nearly hopping over them so you can get to the field, fueled by nothing but adrenaline and hype. he shrugs off his teammate's arms around him, making a beeline towards you. he doesn't even realize what he's doing, lured by the excitement and passion emanating from your presence.
“hey, what are you doing all the way h—”
“SEISHIRO, HELLO? that was so incredible, what the hell was that?!” you exclaim, launching yourself at him. luckily, he catches you just in time…unluckily, he underestimates your exhilaration, your tackle causing both you toppling down on the grass with you landing on top of him as he lets out an oof– as his back hits the grass. “you crazy bastard. i always knew you had it in you!”
from the corner of his eye, he sees reo’s head whipped in your direction, watching the two of you intently, but at the moment none of that matters. nagi still isn’t too good at reading people's emotions, but when it's displayed so clearly before him, your earnest gaze and a smile impossibly wide that your face must've hurt to hold that for so long, he realizes you make it easy for him to understand it this time with no room for any alternative perception.
strands of your hair fall against his face as you hover above him, and the afternoon sun is just about to set, creating a warm halo against your form, and nagi thinks you look as radiant as ever.
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taglist: @yoimiya-lover @i2innie
SORRY FOR THE LATE UPDATE i got so busy irl 😔 taglist is open! just comment ^_^ (if im unable/forgot to tag you, pls lmk!!)
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mysacredmuse · 3 months
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ive been thinking for awhile.. imagine playing UNO with aventurine and sunday as if taking a break with all the chaos shit happening in penacony LMAO
like imagine if you three are on opposite sides (terms of like storyline stuff) but one day, aventurine decides to be like ‘hey yall wanna be friends and play uno’
is it possible to write a fic about this please? no pressure, ofc
hello dear !! I can't write a full fic about that, but rather a tiny scenario, I hope that's okay :)
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playing uno with sunday and aventurine, written with gender neutral reader in mind ! :)
dividers by @/cafekitsune :)
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The three of you absolutely despised each other given the differences in interests. However, one day you find yourself sitting in the hall of the hotel as two men sit on two chairs across of yours. Your rooms have been messed up and Sunday had to take care of it, unfortunately some other things got into the way, leaving you in an uncomfortable silence with the two of them. You scroll on your phone as Sunday sits awfully still, that guy always gave you creeps with his statue-like behavior.
Aventurine on the other hand, is completely bored out of his mind, twirling the golden coin between his fingers. You sigh in annoyance as you gaze over the reception, noticing that there is still quite the commotion.
"How about we play the game of poker?" Aventurine finally speaks up, leaning back into his chair.
"Gambling is strictly prohibited in the hotel's lobby. Please refrain from your lowly ways in here." Sunday says firmly, crossing his arms in the process.
"I am also not interested in playing poker with you, I just want my room back." you point your finger at him, slightly readjusting yourself in the chair.
"Ah friends, why so serious?"
Aventurine chuckles as he swiftly takes a pack of cards out of his inner pocket, placing it on the table.
"Is uno prohibited as well?" he asks in a playful tone, earning a grunt from Sunday. You give him a dirty look, leaning back into your chair.
"Come on! We will wait for this mess to clean up for at least an hour, might as well have some fun." he proclaims in a happier tone as he begins shuffling the cards.
You bite down on your bottom lip, slightly leaning forward as you accept your fate.
"I mean as long as we don't place bets, it wouldn't be considered a gamble, correct?" you ask in a bored tone, eyes gazing at Sunday.
"That is correct." he confirms, expression still dissatisfied.
"It's settled then! Let's be friends for a while and enjoy the game!" Aventurine says happily as he deals the cards.
Truth to be told, you never expected to see a man like Sunday hold up uno cards and race with Aventurine as to who will jump in first when a common card is on the table. Just seeing a man like Sunday hold uno cards was enough to make you chuckle. You find yourself actually enjoying this little game with the two of them.
Especially seeing Sunday's elegant demenaor crumbling as he screams at Aventurine for cheating. Then, witnessing Aventurine sneaking his hand into Sunday's pocket, stealing a golden coin once he wins. Sunday naturally scolds him about it and you find yourself having fun even more. Your laugh echoes through the lobby as the crowd slowly settles down.
At the end, you win the most rounds simply because their bickering allowed you to put more cards than you were supposed to while they weren't watching. They did find a secret stash beneath your chair, giving you quite a scolding about it.
Aventurine wasn't that serious, making a remark that you would make a good poker player only if you can cause a commotion. Not that he recommends it, but your cheating skills are admirable in his eyes. In Sunday's however, your cheating skills are absolutely despicable. So, he orders you to play a rematch with them, but no cheating and dirty tricks this time.
The room wasn't important anymore and perhaps this could become a new routine of yours in the near future.
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xo-valxntine · 1 year
Text
The Proposition (S. Gojo)
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pairing: gojo x stripper!femreader
synopsis: you’re a stripper and satoru gojo has taken a liking to you. whenever he comes to see you, he always gets a private dance but tonight he has something else in mind
tws: 18+ mdni!!!!, smut w/ plot!, cheating (gojo is married), somewhat established relationship (gojo comes to see you quite frequently), pet names (baby, princess, good girl), nippleplay, oral (f + m receiving), fingering (f receiving), unprotected sex, semi public sex (private room at a strip club), mentions of alcohol wc: ~4,600
a/n: i haven’t written smut in so long so pls bare with me. i had a black woman in mind when i wore this but descriptions are ethnicity neutral :) i’m thinking abt maybe making this into a mini series? anyway, i hope you enjoy
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It was a typical Tuesday night at the strip club, slow with a few men coming in here and there. Mondays and Tuesdays were typically slow, considering the weekend had come and gone. You had already done a few dances, but since it was slow you had only garnered about $100. It was so little, even for a Tuesday night. The night before you were able to gain just under $300. If this was a sign as to how the week was going, you were certainly screwed. You had bills coming up and you weren’t sure how you were going to pay them. You let out a sigh and push your thoughts away. You had to focus on making the most you could, so you went to freshen yourself up before your next stage set. You’re fixing your makeup when your friend enters the room unexpectidly.
“That guy with the sunglasses is looking for you.” She says approaching the mirror.
You scoff in reply. Satoru Gojo. One of richest men, if not the richest man, in the city had become one of your semi-regulars. He’d come in about once a week to see you and he was always wearing those stupid sunglasses in the club.
“He can wait.” You say as you continue to touch up your makeup in the mirror.
“You really don’t care, do you?” Your friend laughs.
You shrug. Gojo always tipped you better than any customer that came in, but it was never enough to make you fall to your knees. You weren’t one to complain, though. Money was money and you definitely needed it.
“Not in the least bit.” You say moving on from your makeup and fixing your hair.
“The richest man in the city is obsessed with you and you don’t care?”
“I’d hardly say he’s obsessed with me.” You reply. Your friend kisses her teeth.
“I’d beg to differ. The only reason he comes in is to see you.” She says. “He’s obsessed. I bet you could easily be with the richest woman in the city.”
You laugh at her.
“Be serious.” You say doing your last touchups. “Isn’t he married anyway?”
Your question didn’t really mean much, though. Married men came in all the time, it was nothing strange to you. Your friend shrugs.
“I think he’d leave her for you.” She says with a smile. You laugh and turn towards her.
“How do I look?”
“Sexy. I can see why he’s obsessed with you.” She says, after giving you the once over.
“He’s not obsessed with me.” You reply easily. “Okay. Back out I go.”
You make your way to exit the dressing room and your friend calls after you.
“If you don’t want him, I’ll take him!”
You simply shake your head and exit the room.
As you walk out to the floor, the music is loud, the lights dim, and there are a couple of men scattered across the club. Honestly, you had grown used to club life and there were aspects of it that you actually enjoyed. You loved dancing and loved the persona you created when you were performing. Sure it was exhausting, but you got a thrilling rush of adrenaline when you danced. You liked how the men’s eyes swept over your body, wanting something they’d never be able to have. All of them were fawning over the false fantasy you sold.
You approach the stage and swap places with one of the other girls, ready to start your set. The dj announces your stage name and you plaster your face with the most angelic smile. You start your set by walking around the pole a few times and your attention is captured by bright white hair. Gojo’s smiling and despite the sunglasses covering his eyes, you know he’s staring directly at you. You do your best not to roll your eyes and begin dancing.
Suddenly, the music takes over you and the way you dance and swirl around the pole is effortless. You can hear the men watching you get excited as you swing yourself around on the pole and do a few tricks.
A few men hand you bills while you’re dancing, but most of them just watch. There were two types of men that watched, those that watched because they had no money to give and then there were those that watched and tipped you afterwards. You always found the former annoying. You couldn’t stand the ones that only paid the entry fee and then didn’t have anything else to give. Why were they here if they didn’t have money? Satoru, however, was the latter. He watched you and then would book a private dance with you. He did this every time he came to the club, without fail.
You continue dancing, stripping off your lingerie in the process. You found your way to the floor and roll your body sensually, watching the men as their eyes rake over your body. You smirk at them and proceed through your floor routine. You click your heels together, gaining more of their attention. You fan your legs open, putting your pussy on display, before closing your legs and moving to your knees. In that moment, your eyes find Gojo, and you swear you saw him bite his lip for a split second.
As you finish your set, a few more men hand you more bills and you thank them before exiting the stage. When you return to the dressing room you immediately gulp down water. You did your best not to show it when you were performing, but dancing took a toll on your body. As much as you loved it, it was exhausting. Honestly, you were tired and ready to go home. So, you stuff your money into your bag and pull out a change of clothes. You’re pulling your shirt over your head when you’re suddenly interrupted.
“Y/N, that guy wants to see you.” the house mom says coming in. You let out a huff.
“Well, tell him I said fuck off. I’m not in the mood to see him tonight.” You reply. It was a slow night and you were ready to leave. You just wanted to pour yourself a glass of wine and relax for the rest of the night.
“He says he’ll give you double what he gave you last time if you come see him.”
Double?
You consider it for a moment. You had been complaining all night about how it had been slow and now here was an opportunity for you to make up for it. The last time he was here, Gojo had paid for his dance and tipped you $500. If you saw him tonight then he would pay you a grand. You did really need the money. You let out a sigh.
“Tell him, I’ll be there in 5.”
After freshening up and pulling on a new lingerie set, you make your way to the private room Satoru always booked. You shove open the door and find Satoru sitting on the sofa with his legs spead wide open, facing the small stage. You make your way over to Satoru and sit on the stage across from him.
“What do you want Gojo? I’m not really in the mood.“ You say annoyed.
When Gojo booked a private dance with you the first time you kept the angelic persona he originally saw on stage, but that soon faded when Gojo started booking more private dances with you. He kept riling you up and one day you finally snapped at him. You were taken aback at the fact that you had lost your calm and you were sure Gojo wasn’t going to book with you anymore, but in that moment he only chuckled and told you “I like this you better.”. After that, you didn’t use your false persona around him.
“Now, that’s no way you should speak to your best customer.” Gojo replies with a smirk on his face. You roll your eyes.
“Tell me what you want, Gojo.”
Gojo motions for you to come closer to him and you eye him for a moment. You really weren’t in the mood for this, but the thought of money flashes across your mind and you make your way over to him. You stand between Gojo’s legs and his fingers trace lingerie on your body. Customers weren’t allowed to touch dancers, even during a private dance, but on account of Gojo tipping you so much, you allowed him to sneak in a few touches here and there. Though, he had only grown bolder the more he saw you.
“I like this set on you.” He whispers quietly, still tracing the lingerie. Behind his sunglasses, you’re sure his eyes are dragging against your body.
“You’re really starting to piss me off, Gojo.”
Gojo lets his hands fall down to his sides and he smirks at you.
“Dance for me, baby.” He says in a sultry tone.
You oblige, but only because he was paying you double your usual. You begin swirling your hips around and dancing for him. You grind gently into Gojo and throw your head back against his shoulder as you roll your body. This position leaves your neck exposed and you feel Gojo’s lips gently brush against your neck and then your ear. This, however, doesn’t faze you. Gojo always got too close to you.
“I have a proposition for you.” He whispers against your ear.
“Oh yeah? And what’s that?”
You’d become used to the games that Gojo played with you. He’d liked playing games with you and saying outlandish things to see your reaction.
“You sure you want to hear it?” He says brushing your thighs gently.
“Just spit it out, Gojo.” You say as you continue to swirl your hips around him. His breath tickles your neck and even though, Gojo said outlandish things all the time, you’re surprised at what comes out his mouth.
“Let me fuck you.”
You freeze your movements. Gojo had always made suggestive comments to you all the time, but he’d never actually said he wanted to fuck you.
“You can’t be serious.”
“Come on, princess. Let me show you a good time.” Gojo says, slowly drawing a line from your knee to your hip.
“I’m not going to let you fuck me, Gojo.” You say and continue with your dance. This had to be another one of his games.
“Why not? I promise, I’ll take good care of you.” Gojo says, resting his hands on your hips.
“You’re not fucking me, Gojo.” You say, swaying your hips side to side. “Definitely not for free, anyway.”
“Oh?” Your statement had piqued Gojo’s interest. “So how much would it take? A grand? Maybe five?”
You scoff.
“Aren’t you married?” You ask and Gojo laughs humorlessly.
“You think I’d be here with you if I cared about her?”
“Stop toying with me.”
“Oh baby, I can do a lot better than this.”
Your dance has led you back to being face to face with him. Gojo was wearing a boyish smirk. He licks his lips before speaking again.
“So tell me, how much would it take to feel your pretty pussy squeezing my cock?” Gojo asks, tapping his finger against your abdomen.
You consider it for a moment. Five grand was a lot of money and you really did need the money. And it’s not like Gojo was some sleaze, propositioning you. He was actually attractive from what you could tell, would it really be that bad to let him? It would only be one time, right? And it wasn’t like you were the one that suggested it…
“Five grand. In cash.” You say, eyeing him carefully. You still weren’t entirely sure if he was messing with you or not.
“Done.” Gojo replies a little too quickly. You tilt your head to the side.
“Stop playing games with me, Gojo.” You say.
Gojo reaches up to his face and pulls off his sunglasses. Your eyes widen at the sight of his cerulean blue eyes, staring directly into yours. Gojo came in to see you quite frequently, but you’d never seen his eyes. He was always wearing those stupid sunglasses. Now you understood why. You hated to admit it, but his eyes were gorgeous.
“I’m serious.” He says, not looking away from you. You decide to look away instead.
“Five grand.” You say, still not looking at him. “With the double you promised earlier.”
Gojo laughs quietly, but through the corner of your eye, you can see him nod.
“Anything you want princess.”
You return your gaze to him and Satoru is looking at you with desire in his eyes.
“Okay.” You say, agreeing to his proposition.
Gojo’s mouth was on yours in an instant. His lips are soft against yours and you can taste a trace of gin on his tongue. He kisses you with ferocity and it’s almost as if he’s trying to swallow you whole. Gojo pulls away from your lips and kisses your jaw gently, before making his way to your neck. His hands trail down your body while he nips at your neck. The feeling of his hands on you is exhilarating and you let out a soft moan when his lips find your sweet spot. He carefully slips his hand behind your back and unclasps your bra. Gojo cups your newly freed breasts and kneads at them. You can’t control the moan that slips out as he gently circles your nipples with his thumbs.
“Fuck, I’ve been waiting to do this for so long.” Gojo whispers, brushing his lips across your jaw.
He continues to toy with your nipples, pinching and pulling at them lightly and then running his thumbs over to soothe the sensation. He trails his lips down your neck and collarbones before peppering kisses along your breast and slipping your nipple into his mouth. Gojo pinches and twists one nipple while swirling his tongue around and sucking the other. You can’t stop the lewd noises from coming out your mouth. The way his tongue flicked against your nipple was sending you into a daze. Gojo lets your nipple fall out of his mouth with a pop before pinching and gently tugging at it.
“You’re making such pretty noises for me, baby.”
You want to say something smart back, but you’re unable to as Gojo picks you up and places you on the stage. Gojo traces a teasing finger around each of your breasts, down your stomach, and drags it agonizingly slow up and down your thighs. You involuntarily shudder at his touch. You rub your thighs together hoping for some sort of relief.
“Gojo if you’re going to do something, do it already.” You say, not appreciating the way he was teasing you.
“It’s Satoru.” He says, giving your nipple a rough pinch. You whine in response. “And for five grand, I think I’ll take my time with you.”
His hands trail lazily down your body once more before pulling your panties off and shoving your legs open roughly. Satoru positions himself between your legs and uses his thumbs to gently spread your lips a part.
“So pretty.” He says before using one of his thumbs to gently massage your clit. You can’t help the whimper that slips out of your mouth.
“You like that, princess?” Satoru asks, looking at you with a smirk. He continued teasing your clit and you didn’t want to admit it, but Satoru’s touch was intoxicating. You wanted more.
“Satoru, please.” You whine.
That awakes something in Satoru and he quickly attaches his mouth to you, causing you to arch your back. Satoru uses an arm to pin you down under him and teasingly swipes his tongue up your folds. You let out a sigh at the feeling of his tongue on you. Satoru swirls his tongue around your clit, licks up your folds, and then dives his tongue into your hole. You whine at the feeling of his tongue lolling against you.
“F-fuck Satoru. D-don’t s-stop.”
Satoru takes this as an invitation to replace his tongue with his finger and moves his tongue to your aching clit. Satoru teases his finger out of your dripping hole and then adds a second. He pumps his fingers in and out of you and sucks gently on your clit.
“Feels so good.” You manage to slur our through your whines.
Satoru begins pumping his fingers in and out of you at a faster pace, and makes a come hither motion with his fingers. You’re a mewling mess under him and you can feel your high approaching.
“‘m g-gonna cum.” You manage to strangle out, completely focused on the pleasure Satoru is giving you.
Not long after you’re tumbling over the edge, spewing profanities. If it wasn’t for the loud music in the club, everyone would’ve heard you. Satoru continues to suck gently on your clit even after your high. You’re still sensitive, but that didn’t stop him from lapping up the mess you had made.
Satoru finally comes up and smiles at you. His smile stirs something deep in your core.
“Such a good girl for me.” He whispers before enveloping you in a kiss.
His tongue dances with yours, making sure you can taste every drop of yourself.
Satoru pulls away from your lips and gently strokes your cheek and then carefully traces your lips with his fingers. He pulls your bottom lip down with his middle finger and then slides his middle finger and ring finger into your mouth with ease.
“Suck.”
You’re taken by surprise at first, but then start sucking gently on his fingers. You swirl your tongue around his fingers and continue sucking. Satoru lets out a groan when you suck a little too roughly.
“Fuck, I wanna feel that pretty mouth wrapped around me.” Satoru says, pulling his fingers from your mouth. When he does a string of saliva follows and falls down your chin.
You watch as Satoru quickly frees himself and your eyes widen. You didn’t want to admit it but his cock was gorgeous. Satoru notices you staring and chuckles.
“Think you can take all of me?” Satoru asks cockily, tilting his head to the side. You quickly regain your composure and roll your eyes at him.
“Easily.” You reply. Satoru let’s out a chuckle and looks down at you.
“That mouth of yours is really going to get you into trouble, you know.” Satoru says as he strokes himself gently. You watch as his hand travels up and down his length. You swallow deeply and thoughts of him in your mouth quickly flood your mind. You lick your lips at the thought of him throatfucking you.
“Get on your knees for me.” Satoru commands and you oblige immediately.
Satoru positions himself in front of you and taps the head of his cock on your lips. You wrap your lips around him and run your tongue along the underside of his cock. Satoru lets out a quiet moan and you feel your core heat at the sound. You lower your head as far as it’ll go and take what you can’t fit in your mouth in your hand. You glance up to Satoru and your eyes meet his as you force your head down his cock. Satoru’s eyes are suddenly clouded with lust and all of a sudden his hands are on your head, shoving your mouth further down on his length. He throws his head back and lets out the most attractive moan you’ve ever heard. Something about seeing him that way only made you want to pleasure him more. Satoru continued to guide your head and thrusted in and out of your mouth. Your mouth was slick with saliva and you could feel drool running down your chin. You were completely focused on the feeling of him in your mouth and the lewd noises coming from his. You hollow your cheeks and Satoru let’s out a deep groan.
“F-fuck, princess.” Satoru says, thrusting into your mouth roughly. You gag as he slightly hits the back of your throat. Satoru continues his assault on your throat for a moment, then pulls out with a hiss.
“As much as I’d like to fill that mouth of yours, I need to feel your pretty pussy wrapped around me.” Satoru says. “Lie on your back for me.”
You do as he instructs and watch as Satoru yanks his shirt off and throws it somewhere in the room. Your eyes immediately rake over his toned body. You hated admitting it but, fuck, he was attractive. You’re taking in every inch of his body and Satoru notices you staring.
“Not having second thoughts are you, princess?”
You shake your head.
“Good.”
Satoru runs his tip against your entrance teasingly, before gently pushing in the head. You gasp at the contact and Satoru let’s out a groan. You can feel your walls clench around his length as he slowly sinks inside of you.
“Fuck, you’re even better than I imagined.” Satoru hisses through clenched teeth.
Satoru pulls back, leaving just the tip in, before pushing back inside you. He continues thrusting in and out of you gently. With each thrust your walls squeeze him, not wanting him to pull out.
You couldn’t control the whimpers coming out of you. Satoru felt so good inside of you. Your thoughts were completely focused on his cock dragging against your walls. He was filling you up just the way you needed. Satoru thrusts into you roughly and leans over you so that your body is flush with his. He continues fucking you as he peppers kisses along your neck and up to your ear.
“I’m going to fuck you, until all you can say is my name.”
Your insides twitch at his words and Satoru quickly picks up his pace, thrusting into you more fervently. The room fills with the sound of skin slapping and the slick sound of his cock diving in and out of your wet cunt. Thank heavens for the loud music at the club, or everyone would’ve heard the way Satoru was fucking you into oblivion.
Your eyes are rolled into the back of your head and Satoru’s loving every second of it. He lifts your leg to angle deeper inside you and slows his pace, fucking your deeper.
“F-fuck baby. You’re squeezing me so good.” Satoru groans.
He continues his agonizingly slow thrusts and takes note of the way you’re whining under him.
“Who’s making you feel this good?” Satoru asks, smirking down at you.
Your hands run against the stage trying to find something to grip onto, but your efforts are fruitless. Satoru continues his slow thrusts and it’s hard for you to focus on forming words with the way Satoru’s fucking you. Suddenly, Satoru pulls back, leaving just the tip of his cock inside you and you whine at the loss of him filling you up. You roll your hips in an effort to get him to fill you once more, but it’s hopeless. Satoru just smiles at your cock drunk state.
“Answer me and I’ll keep fucking you.”
Your cunt throbs at the idea of him fucking you more.
“Y-you are s-Satoru.” You stutter out, wanting to feel his cock inside of you again.
“There’s my good girl.”
And with that Satoru thrusts into you once more and somehow, you feel more full than you did before. He pumps in and out of you with perfect rhythm and with each thrust you feel your high building and building.
“G-gonna cum. F-fuck, ‘toru don’t stop.” You slur out.
Satoru can tell you’re close by the way your walls are tightening around his cock. His fingers quickly find your clit, making figure eights in order to guide you over the edge. The way his cock is slamming in and out of you and the feeling of his fingers on you sensitive spot is dizzying. It’s no wonder you’re a moaning mess when the pleasure comes crashing down on you.
“That’s a good girl.” Satoru praises you.
He curses at the way your walls are clenching around him. He watches as you roll your hips against him, riding out your high. You’re moaning his name and it’s sending him into a frenzy. His thrusts become sloppy and a moment later, he quickly pulls out of you, stroking his cock. Satoru pumps his cock a few times before cursing and shooting his load onto your stomach.
You watch as Satoru breathes heavily, lets out a huff and collapses on the stage next to you. He traces your collarbone with his finger and then strokes your cheek gently. You turn your head to face him and are met with those mesmerizing blue eyes. His white hair falls carefully over his features and you take that moment to admire him. Your eyes run over his features taking every detail of him, appreciating how beautiful he is, but the appreciation completely dies when he opens his mouth.
“Want to go for round two?” Satoru asks, with the same boyish grin he had earlier. You scoff and slap his chest playfully.
“Absolutely not.”
“What? Are you going to pretend that you weren’t moaning my name as I fucked that pretty pussy of yours?” Satoru asks, tracing teasing circles on your hip. You swat his hand away.
“I was totally faking it.” You reply, jokingly.
“Liar.” Satoru fires back, lips still tugged up in a smirk.
It falls quiet for a moment before Satoru speaks again.
“Is there anything around you can use to clean up?” Satoru asks, referring to the mess he made on your stomach.
“Pretty sure, there’s some paper towels in that closet over there.” You say, pointing to the door in the back of the room.
Satoru quickly moves from his place next to you and over to the closet. He rummages around before pulling out a roll of paper towels and making his way back to you. When Satoru passes you the roll you thank him and begin cleaning up his mess on your stomach. As you’re wiping away the mess, you watch as Satoru pulls on his clothes and replaces his sunglasses.
“We should do this again, sometime.” Satoru says, smirking. You can tell his eyes have a playful glint even though his sunglasses cover them. You scoff and roll your eyes.
“This was definitely a one time thing.” You say and move to put your lingerie back on. “I only did it because you were paying me.”
“Doesn’t mean you didn’t enjoy it.” Satoru says, watching as you pull your panties and bra back on.
“Where’s my money, Gojo?” You ask, crossing your arms over your chest. Satoru frowns at you.
“I told you to call me Satoru.” He says.
“Fine. Where’s my money, Satoru?” You correct yourself. Satoru motions for you to come closer to him and you do.
“I really do like this color on you.” Satoru says, playing with the band of your panties.
“Satoru.” You say firmly.
“It’ll be waiting for you on your car when you leave.” He says, still playing with your panties. His thumb traces circles on your hip.
“How do you know what car I drive? And what if someone takes it off my car before I get to it?”
“No one’ll take it.” Satoru reassures you. He rests his hands on your hips.
“Okay, and how do you know what kind of car I drive?” You ask again. Satoru shrugs.
“I’ve seen you leave the club a few times.” Satoru admits. You eye him carefully.
“Don’t tell me I just fucked my stalker.”
Satoru laughs and shakes his head.
“Not stalking, promise. I’ve thought about stopping by more often, but you were always leaving when I got here.” Satoru explains.
“Yeah, I totally believe that.” You say, moving away from Satoru and making your way towards the door.
“We should do this again.” Satoru calls after you once more. You roll your eyes and turn back around to see him smirking.
“In your dreams Satoru.”
“Most definitely princess.”
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petrichor-idyllic · 1 year
Note
Heyyy do you do reacts? Like "How the TMR boys would react to you calling them pretty" . If so, thank youuu :)
Oooo I never even thought about doing this, but I can absolutely give it a go :))
YOU THINK I'M PRETTY?
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MASTERLIST | MULTI-CHARACTER MASTERLIST
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SUMMARY: See above. Gender neutral reader.
WARNINGS: None really, maybe some inappropriate language and flirty behaviour.
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"You know, you're actually kinda pretty."
THOMAS
Would not know how to react.
Thomas absolutely would be completely dumbfounded.
He'd been attracted to you ever since he'd arrived in the Glade, so you complimenting him would leave him in a stunned state.
Probably would also be the first and only time he gets complimented because the Gladers just call each other ugly on a daily basis.
"Oh, uh- thanks- thank you."
You probably wouldn't think much of it and go about your day.
He would spend the next four years thinking about it.
"They think I'm pretty."
Definitely a much needed confidence boost since he (especially in the books) is having a permanent identity crisis.
He might not know who he is, but damn, at least he's pretty.
NEWT
Newt isn't a stranger to compliments. He's one of the oldest standing Gladers and people often comment on his work ethic and ability to think fast.
His appearance though?
That's new.
He'd probably freeze, laughing it off as you just kinda randomly say it whilst he's working with the Track-hoes.
"Heh, what?"
In all honesty, you'd have been watching him for a while, admiring his features and when you say it, it would have been a thought you didn't mean to say out loud more than anything.
That wouldn't stop him from thinking about it. It would get brushed over fairly quickly since Newt is a busy dude, but he would definitely ask Minho and his friends about it.
"What do you think it means?
"Uh, that they think you're pretty? Duh."
Like Thomas, he would probably lie awake thinking about it, or just throughout his day, a soft smile playing on his lips, and he would definitely get caught laughing.
"Dude, you're thinking about it again?"
"Shut up, slinthead!"
"Touched a nerve, pretty boy?"
MINHO
Minho knows he's pretty. Everyone knows he's pretty. Just look at the guy. Even Thomas thinks he's pretty (*cough* the three paragraphs dedicated to describing Minho's arms in the book *cough*).
He'd probably laugh.
Sure, it's common knowledge that he's a good looking guy, but for someone to say it to him?
That'd be entertaining.
He'd tease you about it, making you the one that becomes a blushing mess.
"Hey, so how pretty do you think I am, exactly?"
He would not let it go.
But he wouldn't brag to the other Gladers about it. He would keep the information to himself, mainly keeping up the light bullying in private and leaving other Gladers confused as to why you tended to leave his presence bright red.
Secretly, he'd be thrilled. Of course, just that you think he's attractive to begin with, but also because it clearly runs deeper at your constant embarrassment.
He probably also wouldn't know how else to flirt with you. But he's trying his best. Compliments don't come as easy to him as they do you, so this is how he expresses it.
Definitely an ego boost.
GALLY
He would be insulted.
Gally wouldn't take it as a compliment at first. He wants to be a tough guy and you calling him pretty feels like a insult to his masculinity.
Definitely not the intention.
You think he's soft? Pretty? How dare you. How could you?
It wouldn't be until he spoke to Frypan that he'd realise.
"They called me pretty. Pretty! Do I look like a shuckin' sissy?"
"Dude, I'm pretty sure it was a compliment- they think you're hot."
"Oh."
That's when he'd be flustered.
In private, of course, but flustered nonetheless.
He'd feel like such a dick for reacting how he did and without even processing it properly.
He'd end up apologising and you'd laugh about it.
"It's okay, I won't call you pretty again. Promise."
But now he knows you think he's attractive, he'd definitely be bummed that you said you wouldn't compliment him like that again.
"I mean- you can still... yanno- say that."
Turns out Gally actually kinda is a softie when he wants to be.
You find it cute.
FRYPAN
He would be ecstatic.
Oh my God, you think he's pretty? His life is complete. The world is good. Kill him now, this is the best day of his life.
He'd tell everyone who would listen.
"Yeah! They called me pretty! Suck it! I'm prettier than you slintheads!"
"Fry, I really don't care."
He'd constantly ask you to call him pretty again. Or even other compliments and you'd find it funny.
He'd be surprising hard to fluster, but very easy to please.
It wouldn't be uncommon to find him grinning from ear to ear after talking to you.
He would also have the courage to return the compliments, creating a friendship that's basically filled with constant praise.
He would worship the ground you walk on.
Thinks he's in love every time you make eye contact.
ALBY
"Yeah, okay."
Alby would not give a shit.
The man is stressed 24/7.
You can't really blame him. He's in charge of a bunch of teenage boys in a Maze full of monsters, and he has to make sure that everyone is comfortable and surviving.
He has too much on his plate to even realise what you'd be saying at first.
The brain lag is real, and it would be three days later when he'd understand what you said.
"Wait a shuckin' second..."
After that, he'd think about it a lot, internally kicking himself and regretting the choice.
You wouldn't be shocked. This is exactly the kind of response you'd expect from the Leader. But you almost said it because you knew what his response would be.
You wouldn't have to worry about Alby being weird or acting different or telling anyone.
Though, he would become a lot friendlier towards you, starting to develop a sweet spot for you.
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Would ya look at that, I can actually write for characters other than Minho? Who woulda guessed? In all seriousness, this was really fun and I enjoy writing headcanons as much as I like writing stories. I really enjoy these typa requests, tysm for sending it in.
Hope you all enjoy :))
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illubean · 1 month
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can i request headcanons of any hxh characters your choice (preferably including illumi, chrollo, and/or feitan) with a crush on/unestablished relationship with a gender neutral reader who refuses to fully align themselves with anyone but has an incredibly OP ability that requires their blood or body (can shoot blood in like spikes, detach their limbs to chase down and drag back runners, use their blood and/or tears to heal wounds, can just regrow lost limbs including their head, ect.) that would make being on their bad side more trouble then it's worth
so every fight they kind of /have/ to get injured to use it. Plus their ability weirdly doesn't seem to use nen (chrollo can't copy it and gyo doesn't show anything, ect.)
and when they're finally asked about it they're casually like "oh yeah, I'm not human. I was actually created to be an unstoppable force that infects and destroys humanity, but that's honestly too much work. Plus you give me snacks so I'd rather just hit whoever you tell me to." and their reactions to the fact this insanely overpowered goober they've fallen for is a stray shapeshifting little abomination who could have murdered the entire human race and that they're lowkey lucky reader likes getting bribed them so much
(Sorry if that's too long btw, I thought you'd like the idea but I couldn't think of a better way to condense it 😅)
HXH With an Unaligned!OP!Reader
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Characters: Illumi Zoldyck, Chrollo Lucilfer, Feitan Portor Type: Headcanons, Gn!reader
i do not like how this came out but posting anyways lol...
Warnings: mentions of blood, experimentation and violence, reader isn't human if that counts as a warning
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Illumi Zoldyck
the way you met Illumi was... not ideal to say the least
he was on a job to kill some scientist guy but little did he know scientist guy had quite literally created a monster
the day he was going to do his mission happened to be the day your power was finally realized
annnndddd Illumi walked in on you killing scientist guy and literally everyone else who worked for him
you had managed to pop your arms off and launch them like missiles, turn your blood into weapons and spikes around the room and also not die????? and grow your limbs back???????????
the weird part was Illumi couldn't sense any of your aura at all
he just assumed you were a super advanced nen user and were able to still keep up hatsu really well while fighting
which led him to the conclusion that he should either A. run away or B. try and get you on his side
when you noticed him just standing there you turned to stare at him like come at me bitch
"So? Are you here to poke me with more needles like the others? It won't end very well." "Actually I was here for the guy in the lab coat, but it seems like you did the job for me."
realizing he wasn't a threat (or trying to be because you know...you cant die) you let down your guard down
you ended up just following him around after that, not really having anywhere else to go so Illumi decided on plan B
turns out it took a lot less manipulating than he thought
he brought you to the estate and you agreed to help him with whatever for a popeyes chicken sandwich
watching how you wandered around the estate aimlessly and lounged about Illumi quickly realized you only use your abilities when threatened or bribed
so you become his personal little treat fueled killing machine
he takes you on missions with him because he doesn't trust you alone at the estate...
eventually he asks you about how your hatsu is so good and you're like wtf is that
and he's like What.
you tell him you we're pretty much created in that lab and they did all these tests and stuff and you didn't even really know how or why you had the power you did but you found out you did the day you met
and you were all like "they were so annoying and they told me to do stuff for free, I'd never kill you though you feed me :3"
he is so glad you are clueless and he got to you before anyone else because you could take over the entire world if you really wanted to
he is going to marry you ASAP
but again, you being clueless did not understand what marriage entails
and you agreed for the same reasons you agreed to literally anything else this man has asked of you
you are Illumi's most prized possession and no matter how freaky you are, he really does cherish you as normal people would their spouse
Chrollo Lucilfer
running into you on a heist was definitely unexpected
especially since you looked like you just got out of captivity
mistaking him for an enemy you shot your fist off at him and barely missed
and he was like woah im not an opp dw
then your hand grows back and hes like !?
he asked why you were there you explain that you were some sort of war weapon yada yada yada the guys got annoying you killed them and yeah
and Chrollo offers you to come back w him and the troupe and you're like sure if you feed me
so after the heist is over Chrollo takes you back to Phantom Troupe hq and then talks with the gang blah blah blah dismisses everyone and then takes you to wherever the hell and buys you whatever you want to eat
and while you're stuffing your face bro is like
"Your powers are pretty impressive. Mind telling me how they work?"
and not caring you tell him, mainly focused on your meal
and he's like huh what a useful ability time to steal it
one thing leads to another and he somehow gets you to touch his weird book and when he flips to where your nen should be the page is blank and he is insanely confused
and hes like "Why didn't my nen ability work on you?"
and you're like wtf is nen
and hes like oh my god I don't think this thing is human
so he asks
and you're like "I literally told you I'm a war weapon. A weapon created for war, but that's too much work."
now he is confused but also intrigued
he offers for you to join the troupe and you're like
"But being in a gang is so much wooorrrkkkkkuuuuhhhh"
you can literally destroy man kind but you don't because you're LAZY!?
you're not officially part of the troupe but you're practically an honorary member because you follow Chrollo around after your first encounter
and he decides it 's better than nothing
Feitan Portor
I can't think of a clever way for you guys to meet LMAO
umm uhhh idk maybe you were created to take out the chimera ants and happened to get deployed in meteor city the same time the troupe was hunting down the 'queen'
so when the troupe got there you were already fighting some ants
you look human enough but your abilities make Feitan think you might not be
soooo he tries attacking you before he ended up getting to the lizzard ant crocodile lady thing i don't remember what she was
and he couldn't beat you and you're like wtf do you want from me I'm trying to do my job
and hes like ??? you're not an ant?
and youre like no
and hes like oh and leaves you alone
then he throws the entire sun at the ant lady and leaves the building
he kinda forgot about you until he felts something lift the back of his cloak
and he's like !!?!?!??!
and he looks behind him to see you crawled under his coat and took the snacks he hides under there for himself
and he's like what the fuck
how did you even know he had those???? (you could smell it because you have super enhanced everything)
ok i just remembered his cloak got destroyed in this scene but pretend it didn't
anyways he snatches the bottom of it away from you and tries taking the snacks back out of your hands but you are quick to dodge
he's irritated but he just lets you have them he's too tired to deal with this
you end up following him after this like a lost puppy and the rest of the troupe is like ??????
but they can't get rid of you
and on the way out of meteor city you were like yap yap yap weapon yap yap created in a lab yap yap yap immortal
feitan could not care less about what you had to say but he was like ??? to the immortal thing
maybe you weren't a bad thing to keep around
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pumpkin-patch-cat · 5 months
Text
New Job, Who Dis?!
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(Grim x Gender Neutral Reader)
Warnings:(DLC ending spoilers. Suggestive themes)
Grim is now living rent free in my brain.
After completing the DLC ending of A Date with Death, I have decided it is my favorite ending and conjured up a little dialog. This oneshot hints to the endings outcome, so spoiler warning ⚠️. This was written quickly, so pardon any grammatical errors! Enjoy!
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“Hold up, start from the top. What's my job description again?”
“Your job will be to give life back to those who aren't supposed to die. Sometimes, innocent people are caught up in things where losing their life was NOT part of the original plan. Because your soul harbors the essence of life itself, with you at my side, you'll be able to attempt to save those people who are at the presepist of dying too early.”
“Attempt?” You eye him quizzically from your place at your desk. Casper is sat at the foot of your bed, long legs outstretched, hands in his lap. He nods and continues.
“Basically, when a mortal is on the verge of death, their soul has become tainted with what we call a ‘blight’ or ‘blight of death’. Similar to ‘the taint’ for reapers, though much much harder to bounce back from when the soul or a mortals very existence is overtaken or ‘infected’ if you will. Some people can bounce back on their own, while others succumb and meet their unfortunate end. I say attempt because sometimes a mortal is beyond cleansing. The blight is too far gone, and no amount of divine intervention will save their existence....so naturally, when we, no, you receive cases like this, time is of the essence.
“I see...wow, that's heavy. No pressure or anything. Sheesh.”
“Yes. The job will be difficult at times. Y/n, there will be times when a person will be beyond help. You'll want to save them desperately. Times where no matter how much effort is placed into saving them, it may not work, and you will be angry. I can't tell you how many times I've witnessed an innocent person parish entirely too early at the hands of a twisted version of fate. Those moments are out of my hands, and I have to ferry them away regardless. But that's where you'll come in.” 
“Sooo I'm basically an angel??”
“No, they're grotesque creatures. They instill fear in humans and sugar coat their acts with pretty words. You'll actually give hope. Plus, you're much prettier than they are. Who really needs that many eyes and wings, honestly??? But anyways…”
You fall silent in deep thought.
“Y/n? Why are you screwing up your face like that?”
“Can I really do this, Casper? What if I mess up??”
“My sweetest, little nightmare. I'll be there with you every step of the way.” Casper smiles reassuringly.
“Thank God. OH! Do I get a cool ass scythe of my own, too?” You perk up almost immediately, wistfully looking at his impressive weapon that is currently leaning against your wall nearest the door.
“I...I'll never get used to the way you can flip subjects so easily. But yes, I guess. Once you're settled, we will get you fitted with a 'cool ass scythe'. Or at least a decent weapon you'll use to channel your soul energy. I know a guy.”
“You know a guy? That doesn't sound shady at all, but fuck yea!”
He chuckles softly at your enthusiasm.
“I'm glad you're okay with this decision. I really couldn't think of a better way for this to work out for both of us but-”
“But you have a big, sexy brain that was able to figure it out, now you're stuck with me foreeevvver.” You beam, triumphantly.
“I suppose I am, and quite frankly, I would have it no other way.” With a smile on his face, Casper stands, reaches for your hands, and pulls you to your feet.
“Awww, little reaper. Since when did you get so mushy? It makes me want to violate yo- I mean...I could really go for some food right about now. Yea, food. That's what I meant."
“...You really are something else. We will grab something on the way to my place.”
“Bet. Finally making good on us moving in together?”
“Obviously. I can't escape you.” With a chuckle, he brushes his nose against yours playfully.
“It was inevitable, Casper” You respond. The grin that spreads across your face makes his "supposedly" cold heart warm.
“Seems so…and by the way…”
Casper slips his arm around your waist gently, leaning into your ear.
“I'll take you up on that offer of 'violating' me later, my little nightmare.”
“You just want to be stepped on.”
“S-stepped on? What..uh...I”
“The blush on your cheeks says you do. Can't take it back now. Your fate is sealed. I hope you're ready.” you wink.
“Haaa....fuck.”
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deluweil · 3 days
Note
Thanks for your response to that other anon about Tommy; you’re totally right. I also was intrigued, even liked him and Buck after their first kiss. But his closet comment and behavior on their first date, like he didn’t care that Buck has LITERALLY just figured out his bisexuality and that’s A LOT to process, his dismissive attitude towards Buck’s ideas and feelings (the bachelor party henley, the “enjoy it while it lasts” at the medal ceremony)….and then add in the way some fans have gone 0 to 100 on them so quickly, even calling them endgame, and likely at least in part JUST because it’s two men…it’s become such a turn off. I was neutral, even wanted to like them at first, but now am counting the days until it ends. And it’s not because I’m a BoB or would dislike any Buck LI that isn’t Eddie. And I don’t agree with anyone getting HATE (we can sideeye and judge people’s actions ($cameos$) But I think seeing Buck in a canon male/male relationship has caused some people to lose their damn minds. Ship and let ship! Stay in your sandbox, we’ll stay in ours!
LOL I am so removed from all the crowing bummies that I have to ask wth is BoB?
I actually went to look it up and found some interesting options, I am going with this one:
"Bob" is a generic and common name, and using it can be a way of avoiding formalities or creating a relaxed and approachable atmosphere
If you have the other meaning go ahead and tell me, like bummies I understand what benefits me in the moment😂
I kinda wish ppl will look up the meaning of "comphet" (I actually looked it up) that Ryan keeps bringing up in his interviews - that way ppl can stop saying crap things about him being the one to derail Eddie-T because he was supposedly against it. - Which is bullshit, Tim repeatedly said it was because the Natalia actress couldn't come back and M actress could. - Also, Originally T was supposed to be Lucy, she just couldn't come back so they took Lou in a pinch, so Obviously the endgame sure as shit wasn't the pilot.
And you're right, T's attitude was condescending at best, I was talking about it with a mutual the other day, and said that if they really had an interest to build BT properly, also by the time they came up with BT they knew they were being renewed for S8, they could have slowed into this. Actually make Buck's coming out story, a coming out story, not "So first date was a bust, how bout you come to my sister's wedding?" like who does that?
They could have started as friends with Lou being a gay guru, they could have had private dates until Buck was actually out to everyone and ready to be seen in public.
There could have been feelings involved that developed over time.
I gave the example of Tim-Ashley vs Nolan-Bailey from The Rookie, while Ashley was fairly kept to the background (btw she got more screen time than T, just saying) while Bailey was constantly and still being weaved into the story, intricated into Nolan's life, because he was meant to end up with her.
What ppl, who seem to have never watched good tv in their lives, don't seem to understand is that there is a way to write a story, and 911 not only screwed up spectacularly with Buck and Eddie's storylines, but they managed to make it clear from the get go that any LI to come along would be written just bad enough for it to be clear that they are not lasting.
Even furious, Eddie never walked away from Buck. Even when Buck was an asshole in 2x01, Eddie stood his ground and insisted they sort it through making it clear that they are on the same side, that he cares about him and wanting to be his friend. - His partner, a team.
Tommy, like all his predecessors, walked away as soon as something didn't fit his little comfort zone. Tommy walked away on that first date, he didn't contact Buck after that, Buck had to make contact and apologize for not being comfortable on his first date with a guy, like how messed up is that?
And Tommy's little acid retort in front of Eddie in the restaurant before that? From the side it's hilarious for someone who was never in that position. It was mean and uncalled for, but not exactly a surprise because T was never much of am understanding person, he was pretty much an ass from the get go in S2, only difference now is that he is out of the closet.
How did Athena put it when Michael first brought his new bf home after they got divorced? "If Michael had cheated on me with a woman, no one would have expected me to slap on a fake smile and welcome her into my home."
And that is exactly what the GA expects us to do, so what if Buck injured Eddie for attention? He's bi now.
So what if T was an ass and pretty much dismissive towards Buck and talks to him often in a bored way like one talks to a child? He's gay now.
A certain sexual preference does not excuse bad behavior. A person's behavior is supposed to be taken at face value, and not excused just because that person is now seeing someone who happens to be of the same gender.
Crappy behavior is just that - crappy behavior - equal accountability and all that.
I actually liked Taylor for Buck in S2, I think Lucy could have been perfect for him in S5, but the writers made sure to smear their characters in the eyes of the GA from the beginning, thus ending up with another failed relationship, while Buck's relationship with Eddie thrives from one episode to another for the last 7 seasons. One has to wonder about that even if they don't ship buddie.
Same pattern here with T. I was prepared to like him with Buck, I was prepared to see Buck making his way out of the closet with someone who would make him feel safe to do it, not kiss him unprepared under the pretense of coming originally on Eddie's behalf. Not that crap show that was that restaurant date. Not Buck apologizing after feeling insecure and exposed in public for the first time out of the closet and so many other things. - I'm getting the same vibes as Taylor looking through her phone in disinterest in 4x11 as Buck recites some google fact.
And you're right, the fans going from 0-200 after one kiss was just ridiculous, like chill people have you never seen two men kiss before?
I have, on screen and in RL, I grew up with lovely lgbtq+ friends from childhood, it's not all that. When my gay best friend dated someone who didn't treat him right, I told him to get rid of him. When my cousin's gf treated her like property and like she owes her something I urged her to find a better more nurturing person to be happy with.
Two men kissing is not endgame making, hell, from experience two men having sex (hot as it is) is not endgame making.
Love, passion, trust, security, fun, friends gatherings where they're cute and gross, can be made into a healthy endgame making relationship.
Buck and Tommy have physical attraction, they make for a steamy picture but nothing else.
And Lou, I am just... I don't know, I would have preferred not to find out the things he's done as cast of 911, I am just so disappointed.
I loved Lou, now it's just meh. Like he's trying to make as much money as he can before he finishes his way in the show is all kinds of wrong. Also very misleading to the ppl who are hanging on his every word. (And I don't think Oliver likes it either, he is pointedly ignoring any scene with T, not promoting anything that doesn't involve Eddie and Christopher or Buck's own development).
Even Ryan didn't know he was going to get shot until he got the 4x13 script, he was sure he was being killed off until he talked to whoever was showrunner at the time lol.
So Lou can't know he just talks out of his ass and make himself look bad in the process.
And I agree, ppl should be free to ship whoever they desire, but they are not entitled to force their desires upon others, I'm talking about both sides of the ships not just one. (Although I gotta say I've never got hate asks until a certain ship popped up this season. A lot of hateful - now blocked anons - that I refused to give stage to.)
These toxic battles are useless and made this season worse than it's writing.
All that's left is kick back and hope this season's last episode can salvage the poor and repetitive storylines we got this season, - I mean even Henren and Bathena got a replay of S4.
And don't even get me started of the fart shaped storyline Eddie got after switching last minute.
I'm tired lol
didn't mean for this to become this long monster, If you made it this far thank you, sending LOTS of love. ❤️
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kimsmuse · 10 months
Note
Could u do a yandere x unfaithful reader
yandere boyfriend !!
(with a cheating reader)
this was really fun to write! hopefully you find it upto your expectations!! let me know if you want anything else, requests are open!
also, the guy i imagine is somewhat him. (he's so cute n precious >.<) but obviously its an oc and there's no compulsion!!
gender neutral!reader. 1.4k words. warnings for yandere behavior, binding the reader, gagging (it's not sexual), obsessive behaviour, stalking, implications of killing someone and manipulation. this is not real love !!!!!!
also additionally, i took inspiration from this prompt list by @/writeformesinpie, it's such a great list tbh !!
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let’s say, that you have a boyfriend.
and let’s say that this boyfriend of yours is pretty nice - he isn’t like the golden guy, or oh-so-loved-by-everyone, but he’s nice enough, nobody really has anything bad to say about him and he loves you. he’s a little quiet and takes a while to mingle socially, or sometimes to even talk his feelings out with you but he’s been here for almost 2 years, a remarkable feat for you.
and it’s not that it is your concern how he behaves outside, or how your friends perceive him, but all that peace and quiet and soft love that you’d been looking for, you’d long since got bored of it. who wouldn’t get tired of eating the same dish over and over again?
so who can actually blame you if you did go tell him that you were out with your “friends” one night and instead went out alone to a bar? he never did like to go out so you figured he must be relieved that you aren’t nagging him to come with you today.
well, let’s just say, your boyfriend is really good at hiding.
hiding behind the walls, hiding inside alleys, whenever he’s at a threat of blowing his cover while following you.
it was suspicious to say the least, when you wore the perfume you’d wear when you both first started dating, and dressed in your most expensive clothing item, and never would anybody go see their friends like this ever, not that he’s trying to generalize, but. he just gets a fishy vibe, okoay? and this isn’t the first time he’s followed you, so he trusted that it was just his gut instinct, nothing bad would ever happen.
but he wanted to trace your steps anyway because something today seemed out of place, why hadn’t you taken a turn for your friend’s place, or the one that was straight down the street?
it was soon becoming clear that you intended to go in alone. and the yandere couldn’t stop shaking his head at what a foolish move it was, look at yourself, do you think you should go alone? god, he did not want to think of the things that could have happened to you, if he wasn’t there to protect you.
but, um, the yandere really should have thought about himself too, because as he attempted to blend in the crowd of the club you had gone into, he saw something which made his heart fall to his knees, you with someone else.
and it was not a friend, you were holding his hand, giving him that animated stare that you used to give him, and it was just way too evident, even in the way you smiled, the last straw was when you reached up to kiss him. all around him, people were moving out and about having a good time, or at least trying to, but here he was. his heart still as stone, he felt like the pieces of it would shatter all across the floor if he tried to move.
he couldn’t even do anything, so slowly, he tried to compose himself. thinking of things like, he should’ve let his gut feeling lose today and not have followed you out, and he should just go home now, he was pretty sure that even if you were out with that other person, you would definitely come back home to him.
but he doesn’t even know how to confront you without coming off as completely crazy and risk you leaving entirely.
he doesn’t even realize that it had began raining and he was dripping all over the house as he went home.
but he didn’t lose the consciousness of mopping it away, anything which threatened to take his darling away should not be neglected.
when he lays in bed that night, all sorts of negative thoughts make their home in his mind, and you even text him you'd be sleeping over at your friend's tonight! imagine the pain he's going through.
he had been nothing but nice, caring and loving towards you, maybe a little too lenient? he remembers all of the times he let you go out alone and sometimes he did not even follow you!
he was heartbroken to say the least, but he couldn’t bring himself to be angry at you, upset, yes. but he could never be mad at you, he simply loved you too much.
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all you know is that your hands are tightly bound, and there seems to be a sound coming from the tv, something resembling a 60s cartoon? your boyfriend has always loved those, claiming he can sleep better when they play in the background on the days that you aren’t with him.
when you try to call his name, you realize that you’re gagged as well, and no coherent sounds come out of your mouth, only muffled whimpering.
but what happened? did somebody break in while you were both sleeping? and if that was the case, where was your lover? what if he was badly hurt? the room was dark, but slowly you could spot the light from the television illuminating the sofa, and a pair of hands lying limp on the side.
you try to call his name, but it ends up in a whimper, was he alive? your voice grows louder slowly, and you even try thrashing around, at last, the figure on the sofa stirs a little.
he sits up and runs a hand through his hair and squints.
“oh, you’re up,”
your boyfriend.
he walks up to you and even though you can’t make much of the situation out, you retreat away from him. but there’s not much you can get, so when he crouches down to your level and loosens the gag, all you can do is ask him.
“why?”
he looks right into your eyes, and you know that he knows, there’s no time to think about how when you were so sure of covering your tracks, but only that now he knows.
“it hurts,” you whisper.
he just snickers and gets up.
“‘it hurts’? this hurts me more than it hurts you. and we both know why you’re there,”
“this is absurd though, okay, you know i’m cheating on you so just leave me.. or ask me to leave. this,” you point to the binds, “this is crazy.”
“you still don’t get it, do you?” he turns again, sighing, as if he’s being made to explain something so obvious. “i can’t leave you.” he strokes his thumb on your face, “and you can’t leave me,”
it was puzzling for you because in your mind, one of these days you were going to break up with him, and you were even finding ways to do it.
“and besides,” he walks up and turns on the light, on the wall, the clock shows the time, 3.34 am. "where would you even go? back to that man from the bar?"
you don’t even know how he knows about that but before you can say anything.
the man from the bar is dragged by your “lover” to your line of vision, and he’s beaten up bloody, something even if it sounds offensive, you could never imagine someone like your boyfriend beating that guy up, but apparently, he was even unconscious.
“why!” you try to pull away from the binds, but to no avail, only your scream and with them, hot tears down your eyes.
“i can’t control how i react when your eyes wander,” he shrugs, as if there isn’t a half dead man on his feet.
he hovers above the man, “he’s not dead..yet,”
you sniff and then shout again, “what the fuck do you want?”
“you, only you. and us from my dreams, a reality where you love me.”
“you behave this way and you expect me to love you? fuck no,”
“okay,” he brings up his leg and is about to step on the man’s face. “no, no, no, wait, okay i agree. just let him go,”
“sweet. i want you to love me just like that.”
you nod, tears still not taking their leave from your face.
“i’ll be yours,”
your boyfriend leaves the man before the first light of the day, but strangely despite his promise, we can’t see the man he drops off, breathing.. you were deceived.
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centrally-unplanned · 1 month
Text
I have been seeing a bunch of buzz recently online about a possible "decline in value" of the ivy league+ degree - Nate Silver didn't start it but he certainly accelerated it. And while there is nothing robust you do see things like surveys of hiring manager opinions out there to suggest its possible, its not a crazy idea even if its far from proven. So assuming its real, why would it be happening?
1: This discourse is obviously happening because of the recent protests at top US schools - essentially its the idea that elite students are hyperpolitical, coddled, and out of touch with reality. This causal path should be very, very silly. The vast, vast majority of students at Columbia are not protesting. They don't really care about this topic! Sure, if asked, they agree Israel Bad Right Now, but otherwise they are busy with finals and job apps. This is of course equally true at most other schools, its just not a mass movement in that way (protesting to be clear rarely is). This is a specific instance of the general trap of selection bias - the visible students aren't the median ones.
Stacked on top of that is the second level of selection bias - the median protestor is not a business major or engineer! They are exactly the kind of students for whom being a politically engaged activist is *good* for their career, not bad, or at least neutral. Schools produce a large diversity of career outcomes, and those students self-select on how they spend their time, there is no "median" student to observe really.
And ofc all of this has to rest on the foundational reality that people are products of their context - jobless 20 year old's surrounded by young peers protest a bunch, that is what that context produces. The large majority of them will become mortgage-paying white collar workers by the time they are 30, this identity will not stick with them. If they become political activists it will, sure! But if you are the hiring manager for Palantir this isn't going to be the trend for your hires. There are "politically liable" hires out there but you aren't going to predict them via the sorting algorithm of "was at Columbia in 2024", that is for sure.
Now, as much as this is a silly idea, humanity are zeitgeist creatures - I can't actually reject the idea that, despite it being silly, hiring managers might use this moment to feel like they are "over" the Ivy League and start dismantling the privileged place their applications currently get. Cultural tipping points are vibes-based, and amoung elites (unlike the masses, who don't care much) Israel/Palestine has an awful lot of tense vibes.
2: Still, I don't think this is explaining those survey results people are throwing around, and I don't think its explained (very much at least) by the general "woke uni" trends of the past half decade. It is instead downstream of wider trends.
There was a time where companies really did want "the smart guy". You could major in English at Harvard, write a good thesis on Yeats, and be off to the trading desk in Chambers St two weeks after graduation. Those days are over - for complex reasons we won't get into - and nowadays people expect their new hires to be as close to experts in the field as they can manage. Students have internships, consulting clubs, capstone projects with real clients, specialized sub majors, the works. These are all ways of saying "signaling quality" has gotten more legible and more specific over time. Why would I choose a Harvard English major over a University of Illinois finance major who did a research internship with our specific Chicago firm on midwest agricultural derivates markets? Students like that exist by the bucketful now, and the Ivys cannot monopolize them. Partially because they choose not to; Columbia could actually say fuck it and make its school 90% finance majors, but they don't want that, they specifically recruit intellectually diverse students. Which means State School finance types will fill the remaining slots slots.
The other reason they can't monopolize is much simpler - numbers. The US has way more "elite" jobs today than it did in the past. Programmers and their adjacencies are the biggest growth sector, but everything from doctors to analysts to lawyers is all up up up. And do you know what isn't up? Undergraduate enrollment at elite schools! Columbia's has grown by like 10% over the past 20 years; Harvard's is essentially unchanged. For, again, reasons, these schools have found the idea of doubling or tripling their undergraduate enrollment, despite ballooning applications, impossible. Which means of course Microsoft can't hire from Stanford alone. So they don't, and they have learned what other schools deliver talent, and no longer need Stanford alone. The decline of Ivy Power is in this sense mathematical - if a signal of quality refuses to grow to meet demand, of course other signals will emerge.
I therefore personally think, while minor, the Ivy+ schools are experiencing declining status, have been for a while, and will continue to do so (though there are offsetting trends not mentioned here btw). But its structural way more than cultural.
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nameisrequiredd · 3 months
Text
Also did a painted version of this drawing. Basically just as a way to learn how to paint digitally since I never did that before.
TS!Underswap Ruthless spoilers: (at least this time I put it under the cut)
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(This moment was so sad.)
Y'know, I fully expected Sans to be unkillable in any route, so this really came as sort of a surprise??? When the cardboard Crossbones got slashed at the end of the Ruthless fight, I was like "heh, yeah, fully expected that" until you meet Papyrus on the bridge and realize that, actually, Sans is really really gone???
And this is a shot-out to Sans' Neutral Evacuation battle where Sans gets us accounted with, ahem, "just a little guy, a little man" (translation: very ugly cardboard crossbones) an he starts talking about what would happen if that little man fell down? Since he was talking past tense, I thought Sans was exclusively talking about Crossbones: after all, in the neutral evacuation run, Crossbones is gone and only Sans remains. But isn't he actually warning us? Sans doesn't pull out the "pitch-black eyes" schtick during the neutral evacuation battle except during that line of dialogue, which is pretty good indication that he's threatening us: ("spreading words of your deeds, and making sure nobody forgets about what you did.") (((also this rhymed I found it super cool)))
Plus ugly cardboard crossbones fell over in the Evacuation run the same way pretty cardboard crossbones falls over in Ruthless. The whole Neutral Evacuation run is more of a warning than anything else: Really hit me when I first played it, because in my mind Sans was risking his life and warning us about how we planned on making the fight end... I came to the evacuation Neutral fight with the intent to betray kill Sans, but actually the WHOLE THING was SO HEARTFELT I definetly couldn't have dealt the killing blow even if that had been an option. (In contrast, Ruthless's Sans fight is just as (if not more) frustrating than its undertale counterpart. Not only because we're "Getting tired of this" (only after the 300th try, in my case!!!) but also because Crossbones is absolutely right about our questionable motives and the fact there's a thousand things we could be doing right now that would be better than this. When it's time to choose fight or spare, we're just glad the fight is ending.)
To go back to the topic of the Evacuation Neutral, I always found it weird that there was an animation that showed the fallen cardboard becoming smaller and smaller. But if fallen cardboards is Sans' euphemism for death, then he's showing us what'll happen if we go past him without changing our ways. People around us are gonna fall over and decrease in number, until there's gonna be next to none of them left.
Also, Team Switch... ARE ALL RUTHLESS BOSSES GONNA BE AS HARD AS ASGORE AND SANS???? (I fully expect them to be harder and this S C A R E S me.) I died over 1000 times during that game already, and I'm not even exaggerating. Unfortunately. I sort of refused to touch the "decrease difficulty" button 'cause that wouldn't really be fair to the characters, but that doesn't change anything to the fact I suck at gaming. Just like crossbones so nicely pointed out during that famous race...
I rambled much longer than expected. Anyway, my idea for the drawing was that maybe the reason why Crossbones doesn't fight with his gadgets is because he forgot all of them (which, seeing the context, is understandable, even if using weird gadgets seems like a good way of stalling), and Papyrus, being the good brother that he is, grabbed them in a hurry because he knew they couldn't go facing murdery humans together without being properly equipped!
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and this is how i usually color.
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milkytheholy1 · 5 months
Text
It's my favourite colour
Request: I don’t really know if your ask box isnopen so I really hope it is.
could I maybe ask for a rise Donnie x reader (female is preferable but Gender neutral is alright with me) where the reader’s favorite color is purple and she always wears it. Then one day she’s sitting in the lab with Donnie when he can’t stop staring and eventually the reader makes a joke like: “what? You wanna kiss me or smth?” And he just takes it seriously and nods.
I dunno. Brain doing brain things.
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The lair was oddly quiet to say it was so close to the weekend, while the two days off didn't really mean anything to the turtles, it meant a lot to you and April. Those two days would give you a break from school and work, allowing you to chill out at home and in the lair with the boys.
Speaking of which, you couldn't see any of the turtle brothers as you entered their underground home, which was weird, to say the least. Your black detective coat hung around your form, protecting your insides from the cold blizzards up above. The edges of the coat swayed romantically as you stalked around the lair; assuming the teens to be pulling another prank on you.
However, no prank came. They were simply nowhere in sight, not even Splinter or Draxum were around. But the tell-tale sound of machine parts roaring in the distance alerted you to where one turtle could be; your favourite turtle too. You skipped towards Donnie's lab, you had actually been meaning to talk to the turtle, you drastically needed someone to reread your English paper and Donnie was just the guy.
Walking into the wide metal doors, the smell of oil and burnt iron invaded your senses. Over in the corner of the room, with his shell facing towards you, was Donnie. 
"Hey, D." you beamed, already giddy by his presence. You strolled up to his side, watching as he tinkered with parts you couldn't even name, "Greetings," was all he said. You looked around the expansive lab, searching for something specific in mind, "If you're looking for your chair, it's over by Shelldon." Donnie stated, not even looking away from his project. 
You blushed, he knew you so well or were you just becoming predictable. Patting Shelldon's lifeless head, you picked the chair up, knowing better than to drag it across the floor. Once it was perched not too closely to Donnie's side, you shimmied off your coat and draped it across the back of your seat. 
Donnie gave you a side eye, studying yet another purple outfit. Did you know how much you were killing him by wearing his colour? Did you even know what it was doing to him? You had been wearing purple all week, coming down in extremely fashionable outfits that all followed the central theme of purple.
It's like you were playing some game, a very sick and sadistic little game. But Donnie couldn't help to swoon over your accidental actions too, well he assumed they were accidental. He knew you shared a similar interest in the colour purple, but at the same time, he never knew one person besides himself could own this much purple fabric.
"What're you looking at?" you mumbled, dusting off some lingering fur that lined the inside of your coat. Donnie stuttered, flailing the small drill in his hands around, "N-nothing, absolutely nothing!" You quirked a brow at his behaviour, you know someone doesn't just stare at you if they didn't have anything to say.
"Oh, ok." Donnie relented, he placed down the drill, still trying to act aloof, "You- you look good in purple, I've seen you around the lair wearing that colour, my colour, all week." you remained quiet, unsure what this meant. Was Donnie trying to make a move on you or monopolise the colour purple?
"W- thank you, I think purple looks good on you too." you hummed, priding yourself on seeing his cheeks deepen in colour. It was like Donnie had been shot by Cupid's arrow, his eyelids had drooped, his smile had become wobbly and his sighs became louder. He was totally, utterly, stupidly in love with you. 
"What?" you threw out a nervous giggle, your own cheeks turning rosy at the look he was giving you; full of care and warmth. You pulled at the sleeves of your shirt, fingers fumbling to distract the onslaught of nerves that took over your mind, "You wanna kiss me or something?" it was meant to be a joke, something to pull you away from the glistening pool in his eyes.
But when Donnie just nodded along, completely at ease with the reality of the situation, you felt your brain stutter. With wide eyes, you pointed a shaking finger at yourself, "Wait, really? With me?" you questioned. Donnie held back a laugh, but the notorious smirk he was known for graced his lips, "I believe I do, w-would you like to do...that with me?"
He wished he could have said something sweeter than that, but thoughts about feelings and actually feeling feelings weren't really his thing; not that he really tried to make it his thing either. 
Fortunately, you recreated his previous actions and shook your head rapidly. Donnie's dopey grin grew larger in size, his cheeks stinging with just how much he was smiling. You both leant forward, perhaps too eager as you hit your foreheads together. But with the awkward laugh aside, you eventually melted into each other with ease. 
"Hey, D, we're bac- WHOA!" Leon gasped, the pizza box in his hands dropped to the floor, "Oh ho hooo," he began laughing, not really caring that this was a very private moment for his brainiac twin brother. Donnie yelled at him, throwing random nuts and bolts until Leo fled the scene. Though he did poke his head back in to deliver one more line, "If you dress up in blue all week will you kiss me too?"
"LEO!"
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dum1s-writings · 1 year
Note
Well, hello! It's nice to see an active total drama writer in here! I love this show so much and the fandom is like dead 💀
So, I had this idea...
It could be headcanons or a fic/one-shot, whatever you feel like the most!
But, what about the reaction to the TDWT crew to Chris bringing his niece with him?? Like, the reader is just a sweet 19 y/o teenager who looks for their safety and actually cares about them??? (Total contrary to his uncle lmao).
It doesn't have to be with one character specifically, most like how they would react overall to the reader wanting to protect them from Chris (AND PLEASE MAKE THE READER PROTECT CODY FROM SIERRA I BEG U)
Anyways, have a nice day!!! <3
~~~The Nice McLean~~~
I fucking love Total Drama!! I firmly believe Leshawna should've won the first season. I'll try to add my least favorite characters from World Tour to avoid being biased.
Warnings: Chris McLean, Sierra's stalker behavior, attempted manipulation from Alejandro, Duncan being kind of an ass, does Cody being a crybaby count? I'm making it count.
Pronouns: They/Them
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"Alright contestants I have another surprise for you." Chris looked at the tired teens. From behind Chef came another teen. They smiled and waved to the other teens.
"Another contestant?" A few questioned simultaneously.
"Oh hell no. Their mother would kill me." Chris slung his arm around them and tugged them close. "This here is -Y/N- McLean, my nibling."
"Heya," their smile got bigger "I hope we can get along."
Everyone was too shocked to speak for a moment. Sierra was trying so hard not to flip her shit. Chris McLean's nibling was actually in front of her.
"So you're related to Chris?" Harold finally asked.
"Yeah. My mom is his sister." -Y/N- answered truthfully.
"Think of -Y/N- as a co-host. Another Chris of sorts." The older man smirked. "They'll keep an eye on you famous wannabes while I can't."
First of all we'll get the obvious out of the way, the cast fucking love you, after getting to know you. Obviously at first learning you're related to the devil host, Chris McLean, they immediately thought this season would be twice as torturous. But give them a couple of days or weeks and most of them would willingly jump from the plane for you. The others may take some time.
I'll start with the ones that take no time in becoming your fans:
Cody: for him the moment he saw you give a genuine smile was when he trusted you. Having dealt with Chris's shit for so long made him aware of a real and fake smile. Also when you demand Sierra leave him alone? Oh yeah he likes you even more now. Expect a lot of clinging, as much as he can, crying for one reason or another mostly Sierra and excessive praise for the small things.
Lindsay: my sweetheart, so pretty so.....not traditionally smart. She saw you looking super nice in your outfit and that was it. Anyone with fashion choices as good as yours are definitely trustworthy. Please become shopping buddies after the show is over.
Owen: this big lug. He really tries to see the good in everyone. More often than not he's wrong. But he's genuinely happy he's right about you.
Sierra: she knew about you before anyone else. Obviously she's going to trust you from the get go. You're related to THE Chris McLean. That trust may or may not waver...TBD. Either way watch yourself around her. Keep a close eye on your belongings.
The neutral ones who need a bit more time are:
Noah: he just doesn't trust easily. Take no offense to it. I think only Owen was lucky enough, being an actual giant ball of sunshine and stupidity. Perhaps if you sneak him some Noah-Safe food he'll trust you faster.
Gwen: poor girl has been scorned by the world so often. It's left her with a few trust issues. Maybe stick up for her and watch some good horror movies together. Reassurance is the key, she was painted as a bad guy from the beginning. Let her know she's more than that and it's okay to admit she did wrong. Help her move past that.
Leshawna: this bad bitch (lovingly) knows her worth. She wants to make sure others know it as well. Don't talk down to her and hype up her plans and ideas and she'll consider you worth her time and respect. Also keep Alejandro away from her. Please. My queen deserves better.
DJ: he's a softie and a Mama's boy. He does want to trust you. But after his failed restaurant with his Mama it might take some time. People in power never helped him or his Mama. In fact he wonders if they were sabotaged. Help him find ways to "reverse his curse" and he'll definitely trust you, also maybe offer his Mama a job as a chef, especially if it's a higher position in a private kitchen.
The ones who just straight up dislike you and take a long time to like you are:
Alejandro: his family caused him so much trauma. He doesn't trust ANYONE. He may act like it, nodding to your advice and being nice. But alas tis all a front. He's really just waiting for the perfect moment to betray you. When that time comes and goes and you're still nice to him? Yeah....you may have started chipping away at his walls.
Heather: the queen bee. The head of every group project. Highschool taught her to look out for herself. So did the first two seasons of Total Drama. She'll bitch at you and talk shit about you "behind" your back. Just brush it off and continue being nice and you'll win her over, eventually.
Courtney: the Type A Psychotic Crazies and debate team caused Courtney to believe only Courtney can help Courtney. She'll refuse to trust you and judges those who do. In fact it's not until she's kicked off will she finally trust you. Maybe meet up after the show and talk to her, she'll apologize to you and own up to her wrongdoings.
Duncan: the runaway delinquent. The hardass he is doesn't trust you, purely because of your last name. Chris ruined his life, more than he himself could have. Being stalked no matter where he went for 2 years put him on edge. Abolish Chris's stupid "must always sing" rule and his opinion on you might change.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hopefully this works. I didn't know what to do for most of it. I was winging it big time.
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l1llina · 2 months
Text
Going up
Alhaitham x fem!reader
Prompt: He wanted her job and it would be easy enough to
After the dream Samsara, Alhaitham ended up as the new Grand Sage. However, he still misses his old job as the scribe. He asks around in hopes he can take up his old position again but he had already been replaced. His replacement was you.
Alhaitham despite practicing stoicism was upset to say the least. He was frowning slightly, as compared to his neutral, indifferent expression. He knew someone would take up his position soon but he didn't expect it to be that soon. He taps your desk and you jolt.
"Hello Grand Sage, how may I help you today ?" Y/N spoke.
On the desk, he can see texts from 100-1000 years ago. Stacks of paper are piled on top and there is a pillow, blankets and cups of tea.
"Hello. Scribe, what is your name ?". He asked.
"I'm Y/N. Are you looking for some documents ? I'm happy to help. Or maybe, you need to find someone ? Uhh, or uhh." She stuttered
Alhaitham was thinking. His first thought was Y/N was a different scribe than he was, more expressive, less poignant. She even acted like a sort of secretary even though her job was to record historical data.
"I am Alhaitham, I am not the Grand Sage so please just call me by my name." He voiced.
Y/N is sweating in her chair. Why was the Grand Sage rejecting his position. That is so weird. Why is he here to talk to the scribe of all people? Did he come here because she was suspicious. Did she look like the type of person who would stage a coup d'état. The last person who interacted with him was sent to jail, or that was what she remembered.
"I used to be the scribe." Alhaitham admitted.
"Oh-" Y/N gasped.
She was starting to piece what was happening but it still seemed he was here for something else.
The cogs in Alhaitham's head was turning. She doesn't understand and this was going to be an awkward situation. Just look at her, she's hyperventilating. This is going to take more time than he wanted it to.
Y/N is trembling. He was either here to get his job back, fire her for being incompetent or she was suspected of being a war criminal! In all those scenarios, her peaceful life would be over.
"I swear I'll get better at my job!". She exclaimed, hoping that was the reason he was here. For being bad at her job.
Al Haitham glanced over and these were his next words. "You are a better scribe than I was. You really seem to put your all into this job."
"I am actually here because I don't like being the Grand Sage that is all. I was hoping to be the Scribe again but here you are. It is well deserved, might I say"
Y/N blushed and smiled. His compliment meant a lot to her. She sighs too because he was a nice guy and he looked disappointed. She couldn't really do anything to cheer him up except give up her position but she can't do that. This job was perfect for her.
Y/N proposes "I'm sorry, you seem very nice. Even if I quit this position, could you become the Scribe again ? There's no better person for the Grand Sage but you.." She smiles
Truth be told, she was right. Nahida didn't intend to let Alhaitham quit being the Grand Sage despite his wishes, the only way would be to find a more competent Grand Sage.
"I have some ideas for replacements. Like, the Traveler or Nahida herself or maybe the Wanderer. Maybe even Faruzan could work. You should try before you give up. If you find someone we'll have a challenge to see who's the better scribe. If you win, I quit." Y/N smiles
Alhaitham looked at her this time, with his usual indifferent look. She was very kind and a little dumb. She doesn't have to give up her job if she doesn't want to. She's too nice. But a challenge sounds good, the job will go to someone who rightfully deserves it and both parties can leave satisfied afterwards.
2 weeks pass, and Y/N was right not to lose hope. Nahida actually budged on her decision. Alhaitham had found a suitable candidate and that candidate would take over but only if Alhaitham won the challenge and quit. Nahida is also very kind and it's a nice thing the people of Sumeru get to have her as an archon.
The challenge to determine who was the best Scribe was decided. Whoever could translate more texts within an hour wins, quality will be taken into account of course.
On the day of the challenge, Alhaitham arrived in a nice suit. It was to celebrate getting his job back. On the other end, we have Y/N who had eyebags from studying the night before.
It starts and Y/N manages to translate 2 whole texts in 15 minutes but Alhaitham was already on his 4th text. She was behind by 1 text. To make up for the loss of time, she translated 4 texts roughly in 10 minutes and decided to clean them up later. In the last 2 minutes, Alhaitham had 11 fully translated texts and Y/N had 10 fully translated texts, her strategy had worked, but it wasn't enough. The gong chimes and Y/N seemed to have lost. Her only hope was that her translations were better than his.
10 minutes pass and the winner is announced.
It's Alhaitham. He smiles with a wide grin. He looked so happy. Y/N was very tired but she applauded him. It was a good fight. She then slumped on the desk and fell asleep for the last time as the Scribe, in the Scribe's office.
At 11 pm, a silhouette is spotted. It carries Y/N to the couch in her office, covers Y/N with a blanket and puts a pillow under her head. He kisses her forehead and leaves a bouquet of flowers for her to wake up to. The night was a sad one for Y/N. It was beautiful, serene and joyful. It was almost mocking Y/N's current state. It's the end of her peaceful job and life. Tomorrow she'll be jobless. She'll find another job surely but how she'll miss her old one. She understands Alhaitham better and realised how much the two of them were similar for their love of being the Scribe.
In the morning, Y/N is gently woken up by her ex-rival, Alhaitham. He smiles at her with no malicious intent to be found. It saddens her but she smiles. He was happy now. He even looked a little red but Y/N was still groggy from the all nighter she pulled the day before.
He slowly slides an arm behind her back and Y/N leans into his touch. What a weird guy. She closes her eyes again before he hugs her. He was hiding his face in her neck but Y/N started blushing too. Was she overthinking again, why would a guy hug a girl when she just woke up.
A letter is slid into her bag. Y/N packs up and leaves to go home. Before she did, Alhaitham asked where she lived since he wanted to see her again. She tells him and leaves. Unbeknownst to her, Alhaitham follows and waits at a nearby café. He had something else he wanted to say to her.
"What's this in my bag?"
Hello Y/N, You have been recommended to be the new Grand Sage. I know it is very sudden but the previous Grand Sage and I agreed you would be quite suitable. Why you may ask ? Well first of all, you were the Scribe and our previous Grand Sage was a scribe too. Second of all, I believe Grand Sages have to be kind to the people and encouraging. How else would people keep learning if they aren't motivated to do so ? Please refer Alhaitham to give us your answer. Sincerely, Nahida
... A gust of wind is felt as the door of Y/N's residence flutters open. Y/N is running, she's crying, beaming with joy, laughing and out of breath. Alhaitham sees her and walks in front of her path. The sight of his cru- ahem friend was so beautiful to see.
"YES! I accept!"
The man was blushing. It sounded like something else. The people in front of the cafe started clapping. A few "CONGRATULATIONS!" can be heard. Y/N realises what's happening and starts blushing too.
Alhaitham readjusts his collar. "Noted. Greetings Grand Sage". Alhaitham pressed a kiss to her forehead. He was worried he was a little too forward but surprise, surprise. Y/N asked "Can I kiss you ?". An agreement was reached and Y/N and Alhaitham press a chaste kiss on each other's lips.
Oho~ How the tables have turned ~~
[-The End-]
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thefrontofmymind · 1 year
Text
Proof Postitve 1
WARNINGS: smut minors dni!! alcohol consumption, smoking
series masterlist
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There was a sense of pride running through your veins. Seeing the band that you’d known and supported for years sweep the BRIT awards, winning all of their nominated categories. You’d been working as office support at Dirty Hit since their first album was released, you’d been with them through just about everything, every gig you helped organise, all the singles you did the logistics on, and you’d become a good friend of all of them.
There was one, though, a certain bassist that you were closest to. You and Ross had always had a sort of special relationship. There was rarely a conversation between the two of you that didn’t involve at least a base level of simple flirting; you asking him if all the things they say about bassist are true, him teasing by saying you should find out for yourself. It’d never gone all that far though, there was a boundary there that neither of you were willing to cross. And you thought that’s just how it’d be forever.
The pub Dirty Hit had rented out for the afterparty spared no expense, you made sure of that. Music was pumping, there were dozens of fluorescents illuminating the space, and the drinks were flowing–very much.
Of course, the band of the hour was everyone’s attention–you’d gotten in a quick ‘congratulations’ before they were totally smothered by the countless guests who wanted to do the same thing. Even being just on the outside of it all, it was suffocating to watch the four of them bounce around the room, never being left alone. 
You needed some air, so slinking towards the front door to take a break outside the front of the booming club–as best you could with the amount of shots you’d taken. It was still cold–not out of the ordinary for London in late February–and you wish you brought your coat with you. You breathed in and out shakily, hoping your fingers wouldn’t go numb as you scrolled through various social medias, seeing the fans’ reactions was always your favourite part of any endeavour the guys did. You were only a little acquainted with the fans, you’d mostly stayed behind the curtain, only the really deep fans knew of your existence, the ones that investigated all your socials when they put the dots together and discovered almost everyone involved with the band followed you, and you’d posted photos with them a couple times over the years. The general opinion of you was neutral, and you liked it that way, you didn’t have to worry.
In your peripheral, you saw a figure stand next to you, a veil of cigarette smoke around them. You turned your head as was met with the sight of your favourite bassist. He looked exceptionally dashing tonight with his suit and bow tie–you told him he looked like a sexy Fred Astaire, which he blushed and laughed at.
You gave him a nod to say hello, he returned it and took another drag.
“You alright? Saw you come out, thought you were leaving…” He said.
“Leave without saying goodbye? To you of all people?” You joked.
“I’d hope not, thought I’d trained you better than that!” He quipped. 
He slipped off his blazer and put it around your shoulders. You were immediately engulfed in the scent of his cologne, your goosebumps returned back into your skin and you felt more at ease than you have all night.
“I…I just…” You started. Ross looked over at you, big eyes and a smile–god, he was handsome. “I know it doesn’t mean much coming from me, but I’m really proud of you…Getting to where you are now, I’m so honoured that I’ve gotten to see it.”
“Thanks.” He gave you a sincere smile. “And it does mean a lot coming from you, you’re one of the only people around us that actually tells us the truth.”
You jokingly flipped your hair and laughed. “Well, I try…”
A gust of wind blew through the street, chilling you to the bone. Ross noticed your slight shivering, and he put an arm around you, trying to give you as much warmth as possible, even with his jacket on, the cold was coming through. Ross chuckled at the sound of your teeth chattering. Something with the chill made you giggly, with the sudden inability to speak, the best you could do was laugh with him. 
Suddenly he had a hand on your chin, lightly directing you to face him. He slightly raised his eyebrows, asking your permission. Instead of answering, you just went for it.
You gently placed a kiss against his lips, and before you could pull away too far, his hand that was still on your jaw pulled you back in, this time with much more ferocity.
One of your favourite movies of all time was The Princess Diaries, though one part that always confused you was the legendary ‘foot pop’, but now, with Ross’ mouth on yours, you finally understood.
Within minutes, he had you pushed up against the wall of the club, his tongue exploring your mouth, while his hands did the same elsewhere. It felt like all the years you’d spent in a game of oscillating cat and mouse had finally led up to this night, the time was now.
You lightened the kiss, then pulled away. “How about I go and get my coat and you order an Uber?”
“Your place or mine?” He asked between kisses to your neck.
“Dealer’s choice.” 
You patted his chest a couple times before he let go of you and you handed him his blazer, and you made your way back inside. It was getting quite late, everyone inside had begun to spiral into one big drunken mess. You quickly grabbed your coat and purse from the small corner you’d hid them in.
You were almost out the door, before you heard a yell of your name.
“Don’t tell me you’re leaving already!” Matty yelled, stringing an arm around your shoulder, mostly to keep himself stable.
“I am, unfortunately some of us have to work tomorrow, Healy!”
He blew a raspberry at your comment before kissing your cheek and bidding you goodbye. You all but ran out the entrance. You were met with the sight of Ross standing on the curb with the door of an unusually sleek looking Uber. You didn’t notice before, but your lipstick was smeared halfway across his face, the sight only made you more endeared.
“Shall we?” He asked, opening the door more to let you climb in.
After a polite introduction to the driver and a confirmation on the address–Ross’ place, which you preferred, you hadn’t quite tidied in a while so your flat wasn’t exactly in the right state for guests–you were off. His hand was placed firmly on your thigh, you swear you could feel electricity through his fingertips. You shuffled closer to him, and again, and again. By the end of the trip, you were practically on his lap and his hand only slid further and further up. You were worked up, to say the least.
He couldn’t open his front door fast enough, scrambling for the keys from his pocket as best he could while he was spending most of his concentration on keeping himself stood upright.
As soon as his door was open, it was shut just as fast, this time with you being held up against the inside of it. You barely had time to panic about it before he was grabbing the backs of your thighs and lifting you so you were face-to-face. You kissed a line from the top of his collar to the bottom of his ear. 
“So do you want me on my knees or you?” You whispered, lightly nipping at his earlobe.
You heard him sigh in response and his grip on your thighs only got tighter. 
“First I think you should have a little less clothes on?” He chuckled.
He dropped you back to your feet and in a flurry of clothes and stumbling between heated kisses, you were soon on his bed, in your underwear–thank God you had the gut instinct to wear your sexy underwear, all matching, black and lacey.
You lounged on Ross’ bed, watching as he hastily took off his shirt and trousers. You could see he was hard through his boxers. The sight of him made you salivate.
Without another thought, his mouth was back on yours and you were once again lost in his touch.
Wet, sloppy kisses were trailed down your neck, and chest, and stomach, and then peppered along the waistband of your underwear. He looked up to your face, cheeky grin on his.
“You don’t have to…” You trailed off. You’d heard the stories of women having amazing, mind-blowing orgasms when a guy would go down on them, but that hadn’t really been the case for you. More often than not, he would just get lacklustre in the middle and you’d get bored and fake it so he could be satisfied. You knew tonight was a special situation, you wanted Ross to just be as happy as possible.
“I already won tonight…” He toyed with your waistband, running the soft lace over his calloused fingertips. “Wanna make you feel like a winner too.”
You matched his smile and nodded. And he just dove right in.
He placed a light kiss to your clit over your underwear, and your body was immediately engulfed in warmth. Before long, he pulled your panties off, down your legs and discarded to some corner of his bedroom. He licked a long, wide strip up your pussy, collecting your arousal in a pool on his tongue. A wave of euphoria hit you as he sucked on your clit. Your hands immediately went to his hair, messing up his hair (that you know took close to an hour to perfect, you were there for the entire process).
You got closer and closer to the edge while he continued a cycle of suckling and licking at your clit, what you did not expect was for him to add 2 fingers into the mix. You let out a choked moan as his fingers got to work, slowly pumping in and out, in and out. You heard a small chuckle from him in reaction. Your muscles felt like they were on fire, you were so close.
“Ross…pl-please…” You got out between whines. “A-almost.”
His tongue was quickly replaced by his thumb and his face was soon by your ear. “Cum, baby…” He whispered.
At that, you did–like your body was somehow set up to answer any request from Ross, not that you were complaining. For at least a couple minutes–it could have been longer, you really had no way of telling–you were practically paralysed, just riding out the high of the orgasm Ross gave you, spurred on by a slew of “good girl”s in your ear.
Once you’d caught your breath and come back down to Earth–all under the watchful eye of Ross laying at your side–you could finally think about what just happened. One of your closest friends–a coworker–just went down on you and gave you one of the strongest orgasms of your life. There was no going back now.
You quickly moved to straddle Ross, and kissed him–taking him by surprise. You could feel his erection against your lower abdomen as you deepened the kiss. Without separating, you undid the clasp of your bra behind your back and took it off, throwing it to the side somewhere–to join the rest of your discarded clothes on the lush, carpeted floor. One of Ross’ hands instantly went to your breast, gently cupping it before circling your nipple. You couldn’t help but let out a small moan that was almost entirely muffled by his mouth on yours.
One of your hands left the side of his neck, trailing over his chest. You had to admit, you always loved his physique, big and strong but not like he tries too hard–not overly toned. Like a bear. Your fingers found his waistband and you could feel a slight grin in his kiss.
“You want this?” You asked, tentatively. You just wanted to make sure.
“Darling, I’ve never wanted something more,” he answered between chaste kisses to your jawline. “Been fantasising about this for…forever.”
That answer was all you needed for a go-ahead. Your hand dipped below his waistband. He was pretty much already completely hard, just a few pumps from you and you knew he was ready.
You both shuffled to get more comfortable, Ross shimmied out of his boxers with you still in his lap. He leaned over to his nightstand, opening the top draw and retrieved a metallic plastic square. Ross was nothing if not prepared. He slipped the condom on and you positioned yourself above him. In a smooth motion, his cock slid inside you. 
You couldn’t lie, he was bigger than you were expecting. More than pain, it just felt like an immense pressure on your pelvic floor. Ross patiently waited as you adjusted to him, listening to your deep breaths for only around half a minute. Once the pressure subsided, you were practically itching to actually fuck him properly.
You started slow, short movements; up and down, up and down, giving your leg muscles a small warm up before the workout of a lifetime. As you started, Ross closed his eyes, sighing in ecstasy. You began to pick up the pace a little, watching as Ross’ face contorted with pleasure.
Within minutes you felt like you were going full-hilt, but it just wasn’t enough. You were whining and whimpering, just on the edge but not getting any closer. Ross got the hint, thrusting up into you and meeting you in the middle of your bounces, this was it.
Ross began to circle your clot with his thumb and it pushed you into your second orgasm of the evening. You were sure his neighbours would complain with how loud you were moaning his name. Ross followed not long after in a slue of “fuck”s and gutteral moans.
You gently rolled off of him, feeling the soft, cotton bedsheets below you, stars clouding your vision. Ross discarded the condom before returning back to you. You readjusted to curl into his side, his skin was cold but covered in a thin layer of sweat–much like yours.
“So…” You started.
He chuckled. “Yeah…”
“Thanks…for that…” You said.
“Are you going home now?” He asked, anxiety in his voice.
“Do you want me to?”
“No! No…stay, please.”
And so you did. You raided Ross’ cupboards with him, looking for any snacks to replenish your spent energy. And you slept soundly cuddled into him–in one of his favourite graphic tees he let you borrow, no less.
You don’t think you’ve ever had a more peaceful sleep in your life.
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