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#sorry if this is out of nowhere but if there's anything about me you should know it's that i'm the 'hey dont cry 8 billion people on earth-
6ix9inewiturmom · 22 hours
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The Scare- Chris Sturniolo
Summary: you end up having one of the biggest pregnancy scares of your life while chris is in boston
Warnings: Cursing, Crying, use of Y/N, talks of sex, taking a pregnancy test
A/n: may be tmi but lowkey relate to this so this was easy to write LMFAOO, ENJOY
PSA: DO NOT USE MY WORK FOR “inspiration” OR ANYTHING ELSE!!
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Chris has been in Boston for the last 2 weeks, and he's finally coming home. I decided to shower and shave before he came home because that man is the most sexually active 20-year-old I've ever met, the Facetime sex at 3 am for him isn't nearly enough to satisfy both of our needs.
After my hour-long shower, I'm digging through my shared bathroom with Chris in an attempt to find my body lotion to prevent my dry ass skin in this heat when I find my box of tampons, which got me thinking I haven't had a period in a while and Chris and I aren't the safest people when it comes to sex because neither of us can even remember to put a condom on, it always fucks up my mood.
“Shit,” I say to my self.
Chris and I are only 20 and with his career there's no fucking way in HELL we can have a kid or even raise a kid, I am nowhere near ready to raise an actual child.
I open my Flo app and see the little circle that's normally red is grey ‘1 week late’
“Shit shit shit,” I say out loud again, panicking.
I can't keep it from him, he's gonna see the pregnancy test in the trash. Would he be mad if I kept it from him? Should I just tell him? Should I go to Tara?
After about 30 minutes of standing in the bathroom looking at the message in my phone, panicking about what to do, I just decided I was gonna tell Chris, he loves me, and we've talked about having kids way later in life anyway, he couldn't be mad.
I finally built up the courage and got dressed in a pair of tight ripped jeans and a baby tee, with some Converse, and sat on the couch waiting for Chris to come home going through Tiktok and whatever else was on my phone.
“BABY IM HOME” Chris yells from the stairs
I squeal in excitement as I spot Chris and run towards him. Jumping into his arms, he effortlessly lifts me, allowing me to wrap my legs around his waist.
“Umm Y/N there are other people here too you know? Also, Chris get out of the fucking way so we can fucking put our shit down” Nick says in annoyance.
“Well hello to you too Nick,” I say jumping out of Chris’ arms moving out of the doorway, and letting Matt and Nick come inside the house.
“Sorry babes, we've all been up since about 6 am Boston time trying to catch our flight we almost missed because your fucking boyfriend wouldn't get the hell out of bed” Nick replies sending me a soft smile and giving me a soft hug.
“To be fair none of us went to bed at a decent time, mom was making sure we had everything packed so we didn't leave anything behind” matt defends.
“Thank you, Matt, now Y/N do you wanna take a nap? I know we were gonna go out to dinner but I'm very fucking jet lagged and kinda just want to order dinner and watch movies with you” Chris wraps his arms around my waist nuzzling his head between my neck as my hands rest on his shoulders.
“Thats fine with me i don't mind” i pull away from his embrace and smile at him.
Chris grabs his luggage and my hand and guides me to our shared bedroom. As we enter the room he seats his luggage down and plops on the bed letting out a groan of frustration.
“I have missed this damn bed, don't ask me how I slept in that bed at my mom's house for god knows how long because this one is so much more comfortable,” Chris says adjusting the way he's laying to rest his head down on the pillows. “Now after 2 weeks of no sex and just my right hand, I'm gonna need to fuck the ever-loving shit out of you” he smirks at me patting his lap and signaling me to sit on it.
“Yeah so about that” give him an awkward smile “So I didn't know how to approach this to you, 'cause you know we're not the most responsible sexually active humans” I start babbling getting nervous of his reaction based on the puzzled look on his face.
“Y/N what the hell are you getting at? cause if you don’t wanna have sex with me right now that’s fine just say that, but considering our last facetime call the constant ‘oh chris i need your cock’ was really misleading to me” he says with a puzzled faced.
“Chris i’m late” i breathe out.
“late for what? did we have reservations for dinner? did you have something for work?” he says with frustration in his voice.
“No Chris my period, I'm late, my period is LATE, I'm 1 week late today,” I say aggressively from his lack of acknowledgement.
“wait we haven’t had sex in 2 weeks? i’m confused” he sits up moving to the edge of the bed.
“last time we had sex i was ovulating, remember when i told you like a while ago that if im ovulating means im FERTILE?” i say in frustration.
“Fuck” he runs his fingers through his hair “Did you take a test? Do you know for sure that you are pregnant?” he questions
“No, and no, I didn't wanna take a test without you, and I for SURE didn't wanna hide it from you,” I say softly sitting next to him on the bed.
“So why the hell are you freaking out now? You don't know for sure that you are” he asks placing his head in his hands.
“Because you and I are nowhere near ready for a fucking kid Chris, your career, and my inability to even fucking care for myself some days, yeah there's no fucking way I can care for a child who can't even speak on its emotions, Chris” I stand up out of frustration and start pacing.
I can tell Chris obviously got upset with my statement about our ability to care for a child but i was stressed and honestly wasn't thinking.
"I want you to know that I care about you deeply, Y/N. If you are indeed pregnant, please know that I will do everything in my power to support you and our child. Even if it means giving up my career, I will do it willingly. Let's go get a pregnancy test and we can talk about everything else later, okay? I am here for you, and I will always be." he says, his voice filled with empathy and understanding as he gently cups my cheeks in his hands, rubbing them softly up and down and warm smile spreads across his face.
As our eyes meet, a warm smile spreads across his face and I can't help but return it. He takes my hand in his and gently guides me towards the living room, his grip firm yet gentle. The coolness of his skin against mine sends shivers down my spine.
“Girl, were you guys arguing? Normally after we come home from Boston it's all ‘Oh Chris more, more’ typically a traumatic event” Nick says mocking me with a smile plastered across his face.
“Y/N and I are running to CVS so well be back in a little,” Chris says walking him and me down the stairs and to my car.
The drive to CVS was filled with a bunch of conversations and laughter, talking about if I was pregnant how we would raise our child, and Chris talking about the dad jokes he's gonna have, and considering he's a triplet he carries the genetic that I'm probably gonna twins or triplets.
“How many of these things do we need? What brand is best? why are there so many options?” Chris says holding 3 boxes of pregnancy tests and struggling to figure out which one to pick “fuck it why don't we buy all of them and use one pack tonight then we'll have the extra on hand in case our irresponsibility gets the best of us” he continues.
Chris and I walked up to the front counter and dropped the boxes of tests. The worker behind the counter took a look at the tests and then looked back at us, giving us a fake smile. After ringing up the purchase, we made our way to my car.
“So do you think you are pregnant?” Chris says breaking the silence.
“I mean normally my cycles are normal and a week late is not normal at all but it could be my hormones changing or something, but I do wanna make sure,” I say glancing at Chris nervously biting his nails.
“You were right about how irresponsible we are with our sex lives but when we first started fucking we knew the risk of everything and I mean our kids would be pretty cute,” he says placing his hand on my leg and rubbing a small circle with his thumb.
Chris and I pulled up into the driveway. As we got out of the car, he held my hand tightly and carried the CVS bag in the other hand as we made our way into the house and up the staircase.
“did you get any snacks?” Nick says eating a bowl of popcorn on the couch with Matt watching the most random movie on Netflix.
“Uhm no I just got a couple of personal things” I say nervously holding up the bag and sending a warm smile to Nick.
Chris and I pretty much B lined to the bathroom, anxiously “So which one do we use?” Chris says looking down at the boxes.
“Just give me the one that says Clearblue” i say softly laughing as Chris opens the box for me and inspects it before handing me the little stick.
“Do you want me to hold the stick while you piss? I'm sorry I have no idea how these things work” he says laughing allowing his back to slide down the wall and sit with his back against the shower door.
“Chris it's fine i know how to use these, believe me my friends in highschool weren't the most responsible either” I say laughing beginning to pee on the little white and blue stick.
“So how long do we wait?” Chris says helping me take a seat on the floor next to him.
“5 minutes” I breathe out setting a 5-minute timer on my phone and leaning my head against the shower door.
As we sat in the bathroom, waiting for the pregnancy test to show its result, the silence felt palpable. It wasn't an awkward silence, but rather a deafening one that seemed to fill the entire room. With just the two of us present, we anxiously waited for the five minutes to pass.
“Would it be a bad thing if I wanted it to be positive?” Chris chuckles.
“I wouldn't necessarily say a bad thing, there's a part of me that kind of wants it to be positive too” i smile back at Chris.
The alarm on my phone quickly broke the once-loving moment sending us into a panic. Chris and I stand up walking to the counter.
“Wait should we film it in case you are then we could always have it if you could be pregnant?” Chris’ gaze softens as he looks at me.
“Chris not the time” I softly laugh out.
“Right,” he nods smiling back at me. “WAIT” he grabs my hand “Whatever happens, I love you,” he says in a serious tone.
With a warm smile, I gaze lovingly at him and reciprocate his affectionate words, "I love you too Christopher." However, my attention is quickly drawn towards the counter where the pregnancy test lays face down, taunting my nerves. With trembling hands, I muster up the courage to pick it up and slowly turn it around to face me, my heart pounding in anticipation of the result.
‘Not Pregnant’
“YES, MORE CREAMPIES” Chris shrieks wrapping his arms around my waist and picking me up, and spinning me around as I giggle out of excitement.
He carefully seats me down back flat on my feet. Our moment was quickly interrupted by both Nick and Matt barging through the door.
“ARE YOU GUYS- wait is that a pregnancy test? Y/N ARE YOU PREGNANT?” Nick yelled as Matt's eyes widened at the little blue stick in my hands.
“Please for the love of god, I don't want a little Chris running around, or two, or even three” Matt places his hand on his forehead.
“No she is not” Chris chuckles at the boys’ comment.
“THANK YOU,” matt and nick say in unison.
“Wrap it before you tap it next time Chris,” Nick says walking away and back to the living room.
“Now I'll say it again, after 2 weeks of Facetime sex I would like to absolutely fuck your brains out” Chris says smirking down at me.
“Please do” I smile as he picks me up gripping the backs of my thighs as my legs wrap around his waist leading me to the bedroom.
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A/N pt 2: I HOPE YOU ENJOYED THISSSSSS AND TYSM TO @cosmicmistake42069 FOR THIS INSPIRATION!!
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mistystepmoonbeam · 22 hours
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Reborn Into BG3: Chapter 9
You're reborn into BG3 with only the memory of your past life. Now you're Tav's companion on his journey, and must learn about yourself as much as your new reality.
Chapter 9: You lose something, but maybe a certain devil can help you out?
Word count: 2K
A/N: Okay, but should we start to focus on one companion for romance??
Your body is warm as you drift between sleeping and waking.  It’s like you’re sitting by a fireplace, wrapped in a soft blanket while a winter storm rages outside.  Like sleeping in on a Sunday morning with nowhere to be for the day.  You could stay there forever, resisting the pull of the waking world with a grimace.
“You took quite the hit,” a deep voice says, “and for a bear no less.”
Right, you were bleeding, concussed.  You should really open your eyes to see what’s happening, but they only flutter shut again.  There’s a dim light overhead that disturbs your peaceful warmth, and when you turn away from it you feel the cold stone on your cheek.
Stone.  Blood.  Bear.  Your eyes open—slowly despite the shot of fear that courses through your body.  After a few blurry blinks you’re able to make out the vague shape of a person's head, then long brown hair that’s partly tied back and braided, and a smile.
“Welcome back,” Halsin says.  “I’m sorry it took so long for me to heal you—we had to get the goblins out of the way first.”
“We?” you repeat.
Another face comes into view, the horns on top of Tav’s head nearly poking out one of Halsin’s eyes.  The druid backs off to let your companions fuss over you. 
Dried blood has crusted on your forehead and cheek.  You wipe at it and it begins to flake away with ease; whatever healing magic Halsin used on you has sealed the wound and dried the blood.  
Tav moves behind you and slides his hands under your back, giving you a push upright.  Almost your full weight is on him until you’re sitting up, still trying to blink away little spots in your vision.
“What happened?” you ask.  “Did I win?”
You’re not even sure what you’re asking.
“Against a rock?” Astarion says.  “No.  Against the worm in your head…that’s another story.”
You take a deep inhale, surveying the faces around you.  There’s worry on almost all of them, but something else.  More than concern for your repeated blows to the head.  It isn’t until you follow Astarion’s gaze to something to your left that you understand.
You jump away, scurrying back just like when you’d found the boar in your tent.  There, lying lifelessly on the stone floor, is a mindflayer tadpole.  Your stomach lurches as Tav picks it up between two claws then tosses it behind him.
“The tadpoles leave the host when it dies,” Halsin says.  “Though what caused it to leave this time, I’m not sure.”
“How did it—what part of me—where did it leave from?”  You stand, head shaking.  “No, I don’t want to know.  I’ve never been so glad to be knocked unconscious.”
You waver on your feet, world spinning.  When you hold your hands out to balance yourself you’re lifted off your feet and into the arms of Tav.
“I can walk,” you say, though you don’t know if that’s true.  Besides, there is a lot of blood on Tav that can’t be all goblin—he didn’t have to carry you back to camp.
“I shouldn’t have let you leave,” Tav replies.  “I’m sorry.”
“I volunteered.”  Your fact does little to lighten his mood, his lips still in a firm line.  “Besides, if I hadn’t failed my persuasion roll I probably would have been fine.”
Tav only furrows his brow at your words. 
“I’m sorry to leave like this but I must return to the grove,” Halsin announces.  He doesn’t even have to step towards you to take your hand in his; he never strayed far after healing you.  “Please, speak with me there when you can.”
You watch as Halsin places a gentle kiss on your knuckles, unable to do anything else as your face heats.  He adds, “And thank you for what you did.”
You stutter a quiet “No problem” just before he transforms into a rat and dashes off.
“Oof!”  Karlach places a hand over her heart dramatically.  “He’s a charming one, isn’t he?”
You don’t trust your voice to not come out as a squeak so you say nothing.  Your attention returns to the tadpole that disappeared into the shadows of the cell.  Should you really leave it there?  Was it really dead?
“Did it…did it really leave?” you ask.  Are they going to leave you behind now that you’re no longer sharing their affliction?  You wet your lips.
“We think that may be why Priestess Gut said the Absolute abandoned you,” Gale explains.  He’s standing by Astarion, your staff in hand.  He gives it a shake.  “Though she was none too impressed to see you with this.  But that’s something we can discuss when you haven’t been imprisoned by goblins, hit with large rocks, or—fed upon.”
You think you catch a dirty look from Gale to Astarion but it’s too dark and you’re too woozy to tell. 
You want to ask, “what now”, even as you stay held close to Tav.  But the words don’t come.  You know the answer after all this—they’ll definitely kick you out of the camp because so far you’ve done nothing but suck up all their healing supplies.  You have plenty of money to survive after all, and Halsin will probably let you stay in the grove for a while.  There’s a lump forming in your throat at the thought of going out on your own but what choice do you have?
Maybe Karlach can tell what you’re thinking, or maybe she’s just tired, too.  She says, “I think it’s about time we head back yeah?”
You swallow down the lump, nose starting to run as you hold back tears.  Pain is coming back to your body, Halsin’s healing wearing off.  It did its job of keeping you alive, and now it is your body that must do the rest of the work.  You can feel the bruises along your back, hips and sides where the goblins jabbed you, as well as the forming headache.  If the headache is from the rocks striking you or the tadpole you don’t know.  Either way, you wish that stupid thing had at least stayed in your head when it died.  
When Tav starts to walk you let him carry you without complaint, even resting your head against his shoulder, eyes closed.  Whatever happened to the goblins and their leaders remains unknown as he carries you out, but it’s silent in the camp.  
The group is silent, too.  Maybe they’re letting you rest while you can, you think, or maybe they’re trying to decide who gets to be the one to kick you to the curb.  You don’t think about it too long.  
When you feel fresh non-bloodstained air on your cheeks you open your eyes.  You’re across the bridge and heading towards the blighted village already.  Every step they take is a step closer to you being completely alone.
The scent of sulphur wafts towards you before you hear a strange sound, like a campfire being started.  Almost a poof, but not quite.  The group turns quickly to face the source: Raphael.   Tav puts you down as gently as possible, ready to draw his weapon when Raphael starts talking.  
“Now, now, I’m not here for a fight…”  His speech starts and finishes, and then with a snap of his fingers you’re all inside the House of Hope.  The scene progresses, Tav denying the devil every chance he gets until the end and they’re transported back to where you were.
Without you.
Raphael, now in his full cambion form is observing you, a hand to his chin.  
“You, uh, you missed one,” you tell him.
He quirks one eyebrow.  “Did I?”
Raphael moves towards you and with every step you have to tilt your head further back just to look him in the eye.  When he’s an arm's length away you step back until your thighs hit the table and he doesn’t stop until he’s nearly on top of you.  Your voice is shaky when you speak.  “Y-yep.  I don’t even have a tadpole so what good would a deal with me be?”
His smile never drops, never reveals what he’s thinking.  “You don’t, not anymore.  As fascinating as that is, I’m more interested in procuring something else you have.”
You point to yourself.  “Me?  What do I have?”
Raphael reaches for your face, and with nowhere to go you stay as still as possible.  Those claws feel bigger than Halsin’s in his bear form, but Raphael is gentle as he strokes a knuckle along your cheek.  
“You, my dear,” he says, almost wistfully, “have more than you know.  But you don’t know anything do you?  Just a name and a place; Baldur’s Gate.”
You gulp.  Even when he takes his hand away you feel the heat of his skin on your cheek.  He doesn’t step back, closing you in with his size and outstretched wings.  “I guess it’d be silly to ask how you know that.”
His smile grows, entertained by your question.  “I could help with that—your memories, your life here.”
The way he stresses the last word gives you a shock like when Priestess Gut had looked at you. 
“No, thank you.  Now, if you could just send me back—”
“What will you do when they leave you?”
The question halts your words, your very thoughts.  You peer up into Raphael’s red eyes.  He continues, “Without the tadpole binding you, you’ve no reason to stay.  Where will you go?  Gold can take you only so far.”
You don’t answer.  You don’t have an answer.  You ask, “You know who I am?”
“And then some,” he answers.  
You swallow your fear, again, and shake your head.  He’s a devil!  Evil!  Your identity isn’t worth your soul, which you’ve come to learn is real and eternal.  
“I’ll be here,” Raphael tells you, “I’m sure you know how to find me.”
In a plume of smoke you’re back on the dirt road that travels between the shrine and the village.  You stay stock still as if the predator is still in front of you, eyes on the ground.  You hear someone call your name, but it isn’t until Tav shakes your shoulders that you can react.  “What?”
“Please tell me you didn’t make a deal,” Karlach begs.  If she couldn’t burn your skin off you think it would be her shaking you out of your trance.  
“No,” you reply.  “No.  No!  Of course not.”
Each of the companions let out a relieved sigh. 
“What did he want with you?” Astarion asks.  “Not to be rude but without the tadpole…”
You shake your head, the ache inside growing.  Stop shaking your head at everything, you think.  “He didn’t say.”
“What did he offer?”  Gale steps up, brows pinched together as he carefully watches your expression.
“My memories,” you admit.  “But I don’t think my memories are worth my soul.”
Gale’s face relaxes at your answer.  
“Now there’s a devil at our door,” Astarion complains.  “What next?  Will we be attacked by a rabid kobold as icing on the cake?”
“All in good time,” Gale answers.  
“I’d give you a hug if it wouldn’t burn your skin off,” Karlach says to you. 
You smile at her, but it’s weak.  You could really use that hug.  Raphael’s words had echoed your own thoughts—what happens when you’re left alone, left behind, by these people?  They must mistake your silence for fear, because they each give you a reassurance that as long as you don’t make a deal with a devil you’ll be fine.  But you’re just waiting for the other shoe to drop and feeling terribly sorry for yourself.
You muster up as much energy as possible and put it into stretching your lips into a smile.  “We should probably get back to the grove.  I’m sure everyone will be happy to hear the goblins aren’t a threat.”
This time you don’t let Tav pick you up, and start walking on your own two feet.  You’ll have to get used to it anyway, injured or not, when they move on to the Underdark. 
Taglist:
@half-poison-and-half-hope @sanscas @hotmesshobbit @godoffuckedupcats @thequeen-oni @terrenuserinj @straewberrysoda @theomnipotentfox @becksynthetic @quitecontrary-to-mary @furblrwurblr @mega-trash-cringe @fandomsbookclub @dontneedbiologytoadopt @pebble-bb @v3lv3tvampir3 @mrow-kat @jeneralmischief @notsaelty @runaway-17 @aoirohi @tinswhimsy @xxgrimripp3rxx @kemonocat-blog @thetiredtoad0-0 @sleepydang @iwannabealocalcryptid
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madame-fear · 21 hours
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Okay, so. Yesterday I received a rather extent anon message blaming me for, apparently, “not being neutral in the drama” because I’m mutuals with someone that had little involvement in the situation I think, and as I found out today, my mutual already clarified things and apologised.
I left my answer to the ask in the drafts, but today I opted to ignore the message and remove the drafted answer. I did this not only because I wanted to drop things already and not stir up any more shit, but also because I have a condition where I constantly tremble, and any extreme emotion — whether it’s good or bad — makes my shaking worsen to the point I can barely function even for basic things and I feel sick in the stomach.
It wasn’t worth going through that. I thought it would be better to answer ask messages of people ranting, or asking things about it that were within the reach of my knowledge.
Until today, that a burner account named @/quillantrophy (which, they accidentally exposed their real account @/wewereforever in one of their screenshots and now they both deactivated), thought they could do a “call out” post... Posting my answers to anon asks & basically treating me as a hypocrite over nothing?
And they said I should explain things because since I wasn’t commenting on anything they said on the post, I was “adding fuel to the fire” (that exact quote). I didn’t have time to explain things at the moment, but I do now and I will answer bit by bit. I will do this just to avoid possible misunderstandings.
I want to clarify that I don’t feel comfortable getting involved in things that I’ve never been involved in— and if I receive more messages about the drama itself, those messages will be deleted. I feel kind of bad about this since people have only been coming to my ask box asking thing about it confuses, or seeking comfort from the moment, but like we’ve been saying, it’s better to drop things already, and focus on the good things inside the fandom.
The answer to the post is below the cut. It’s going to be long, sorry, but I prefer to clear any misunderstandings. And I will highlight something extremely important down below, besides apologising deeply for any misunderstanding. And this is the last time I will be talking about it
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“there’s no issue with this, but she claims to be neutral and is currently explaining/advocating on the situation whilst adopting this stance.” I am neutral on the situation. I will eternally remain neutral because as we’ve seen, neither side is good.
As I’ve said before, Cal had little to do with all of this huge mess. From what I learned today, she already clarified and apologised about the situation. Cal was dragged through the mud by both of the groups out of nowhere, and she also fell for their shit so she was fooled by them just like lots of other people— she told me herself.
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“This is bullshit, there’s no transparency” huh? what does that even mean,, I just… Literally don’t have any involvement at all? What can I say or do about it? Both groups of people were already on my blocklist since last year lmao.
“She has connection to the drama purely through this even as she apparently didn’t participate — allegedly.” I’m sorry but the allegedly part is killing me too. I wasn’t even on their Discord groups, nor talked to any of the people involved, explain why the word ‘allegedly’ was even added?
also, how the hell am I supposed to be connected to the drama if, as you said, I didn’t even participate in it, only because I’m mutuals with someone who was named in it? What kind of sense does that make?
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As I stated above, I am, and always have been a neutral onlooker about the situation, who explained the situation to the confused people, even posting the links with the full info and proof to not spread incorrect information accidentally.
“Does @bucknastysbabe even know or care you’re slamming her on main and then love bombing her the next?” Cal knows about all your post, and all my answers to each ask regarding the situation.
She knows I hadn’t seen her apology/clarifying video until today. She even cheered me up when I had an anxiety attack after this person made this post, only to then delete it and deactivate the account. So, yes, she knows pretty much everything and she knows it was a mere mistake of mine.
Then, the person posted this. I will show the screenshots of what they said, and what answered ask they were referring to using their own SS.
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(sorry if the screenshot pics are switched of their right places) I had no idea that was a direct quote from Cal’s apology video, because I OBVIOUSLY HADN’T SEEN IT. I don’t know how else to stress this, but I’m not chronically online, and neither I see everything my mutuals post.
Either way, I literally re-read my own response to check what I had answered, and this was terribly misunderstood. The only response I had about Cal’s statement was “why am I not surprised?”, and in the rest of my response, I tried to be as neutral as possible— in the rest of my response, I was referring to the general situation of the drama, and in fact I was mostly referring to the things Bel, Fae, Em and Ange said + did.
But nothing else, thats it, because I wanted to speak about the situation in general and I was referring to the group of people— I didn’t name names and neither I referenced Cal’s statement any further. I deeply apologise for the misunderstanding, but sometimes I explain myself awfully mostly because English isn’t my native language.
if this was considered with any possible ill intention at all, I offer once again my most sincere apologies. I never had any bad intention, and the only thing I’ve been doing was answer the asks of the people who came to my ask box inquiring about what had happened, try to offer comfort to those who felt disappointed and heartbroken, and in general just try to provide as much positivity as I could amidst the terrible situation.
Some believe I was trying to gain attention from the situation, and that I was stroking the flames of the drama. I at no cost even thought of ‘getting attention’ from it, or that I was actually getting attention, I simply answered the messages I was receiving to interact with my own followers— I mean, it didn’t feel good to leave them hanging.
I do have to take responsibility that perhaps my actions continued to keep the drama up, but again, I never had this intention, and I’m terribly sorry if that’s what my answers and interactions caused.
Please I do hope you guys understand my point of view, and that I never intended for any of this to be understood in the wrong manner. I have to admit that despite all the lovely people and fun moments I had/have in the fandom, it’s also responsible for worsening my condition the 90% of the times due to the unnecessary drama, and this situation today made me feel extremely bad physically as it automatically involved me in a situation I didn’t want to be involved in, nor have anything to do with it.
And that’s why, from now on, I won’t be answering any message related to the drama anymore to not keep mentioning the things that happened. As I said all the way above, we should currently be focusing only on the good, positive things of the fandom— and hopefully, we will all learn to not be rude or gossip about other people over mere fandoms, or fanfanfiction.
Then again, thank you for reading and understanding. If I expressed myself wrongly anywhere in here, please feel free to ask me about it and I will glady re-explain it. I hope this can clear everything, and please, I don’t want to be involved any further in anything.
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crescentfool · 6 months
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beaming everyone on the dashh with good brain day vibes!!! i hope that you all can remember to extend self-compassion to yourself whenever you're feeling down about something 💙
#lizzy speaks#the human brain works in such profound ways i think#lately i've been thinking about that post that was like 'you will always be your oldest friend take care of yourself'#it's definitely a sentiment i agree with and i appreciate how it emphasizes the importance of extending compassion to yourself#you wouldn't say such hurtful things to your friends right? (or at least i'd hope so)#so why would you say it to yourself?#you are your own friend too. and i think everyone has a beautiful soul within themselves. nurture it! water it! feed it good thoughts.#basically i wish everyone a 'i hope that your brain is not your own enemy but rather a friend that you can find comfort in'#things will work themselves out with time. there's beauty in life and you will find small delights to cherish!! i am manifesting it for u!!#and for those who find it difficult to transition from a self-critical mindset to one that's more compassionate and nonjudgmental#i truly think that with time you will be able to rewire your brain to be kinder to yourself. i'm proud of you for taking any first steps :)#there are times in which it feels counterintuitive to go against habits that feel hard-wired... but brains are very malleable littel guys-#with such a wonderful capacity for changing and learning new things. so i hope everyone can learn to be their own best friend!#not to undermine the importance of a support network ofc. that's good too and im all for that!! but i hope everyone remembers to be kind-#not only to others but also to themselves!! you're going to do great out there!! i love you all!!#ive just been thinking about this a lot... i needed to get it out there. you all shine so brightly!!! we shall be fine!!! have a good week!#sorry if this is out of nowhere but if there's anything about me you should know it's that i'm the 'hey dont cry 8 billion people on earth-#ok?' post. idk i just find great joy in knowing others are out there thriving and finding a daily delight yknow i love humanity!!
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guinevereslancelot · 6 days
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most fucked up thing at my new job is there's only zero calorie sweeteners at the coffee station in the break room. three different kinds of zero calorie sweetener but no regular sugar because the assumption is that literally everyone is on a diet?
#is this because its a job dominated by women in particular??? idk#that's so weird#like sorry i can taste the difference and i prefer naturally occurring sugar from nature how is that not even an option#drinking nasty bitter af coffee bc i am So Sleepy but i refuse to use artificial sweeteners#they Do taste different and they're not even good for you im not doing that lol#also they got mad at me for telling one of the parents that we took one of the kids temperature and it was 99 and he threw up a little#when his dad came to get him yesterday and all of the other teachers were nowhere to be found#they were like tou shouldnhave had colleen do that#ma'am colleen went home before that and so did you#i should have left already too but waited bc the ratio on the playground was bad#anyway i did NOT say he had a fever i said it was 99 and to talk to the teacher inside#but the dad didnt yalk to her clearly then went home and scared the mom that he had a fever and threw up so she texted my boss freaking out#i literally just said he threw up a little and we took his temperature and it was 99 and to talk to the other teacher#which was all true and there was no one else there to tell him#anyway#apparently the person who had my job before me was a wacko who scared the parents with fake medical information or something#but that is not my fault and nobody told me that or not to tell the parents anything medical until this morning#ugh#also my supervisor is kind of a weirdo#she wanted to show everyone ~cute~ pictures of animals she has killed while hunting???#and i said i didnt want to see#and she was like ~oh it's not dead yet in the picture~#like okay but its dead now???#she traps them first so its a cute little fox in a trap about to be killed 😭#like wtfff#i know trappong predators is a reality but why take pictures like ohhh so cute then kill it#THEN show everyone the cute pictures like yeah isnt he adorable i killed him btw <3#huh??????#she has a bobcat tail on her keychain too she was giving it to the teachers and kids to pet like ohhh its so soft <3
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neo-nomatrix · 11 months
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Hate the AM, Hate the PM, But love you
Hobie Brown x reader
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word count: 969
find the mini series here
tags: @maxjesty @marshallowy @sh-tposter2021 @ilovebhna @ladyagagaslefttoe
synopsis: Hobie is still a slightly infuriating neighbor, but there’s something about that jacket and guitar that are all too familiar.
a/n: DRUNK CONFESSIONS!! Part two of this fic. I wasn’t going to write another part to it but i caved 😔
You stood him up. You fucking stood him up. Hobie spent the entire show looking out into the crowd, ignoring the blinding stage lights, to try and find you. But you were nowhere to be found. He asked so nicely too! Despite his nonchalant attitude it took him so long to build up the courage to ask you out. He had dinner reservations planned, which he has obviously never done, looked up places to get a Mr.Whippy and even found a small secluded area where he could play his guitar for you.
The worst part is how it made him feel. He genuinely liked you and it hurt him to think you didn’t feel the same when he thought you did. So what was his solution? Go out with his mates to a pub until 3 am to drink his feelings. Hobie was a bold drunk, bolder than he usually is. He’s also a sloppy drunk, tripping when he walks and slurring his speech like it’s all one word.
You’re peacefully sleeping in your bed with your spiderman eye mask cuddling with your Spider-Punk plushie. It’s not a random occurrence to hear Hobie stomping his boots late at night but it was different today. You heard his boot buckles dragging across the floor and a loud bang against your door. Not necessarily a knock, more of a body slumped against the wood.
“Love! You in there?!” You hear him yell.
You try your hardest to ignore him but as he keeps yelling and pounding against the wood you start to feel sorry for everyone else on your floor. You force yourself out of bed and towards the front door. As you reluctantly open it a drunken Hobie falls into your flat.
“Hobie get your arse up,” you roll your very tired eyes.
He surprisingly agrees and makes his way to your bed.
Great, you think
He tosses his guitar to your couch and gets into your bed like it’s his. Conveniently throwing the spider-punk plush off the bed. He cuddles up with your blanket and closes his eyes. You cannot let him fall asleep.
“Hobie! Hello? That is my bed. Get out!” You yell at him.
“Why’d you do it?” He whispers.
“What,” you ask, still annoyed.
“You stood me up. I asked you to come to my show and you didn’t. Why,” he asked less of a question and more of a statement.
You sigh, of course you knew that was tonight. In all honesty you don’t quite know why you didn’t go. You weren’t doing anything special and it probably would’ve been nice. But you were scared. Scared of what? You also didn’t know that, you just were.
“I… I don’t know,” you admit.
“Really hurt me, Love. I wanted to see you and take you out on a nice date,” he looked away from you.
Your heart shattered. You knew Hobie liked you but not to that extent. You thought he was just playing around with you and didn’t mean anything by it.
“I’m really sorry, Hobie. We should go out some other time, okay? My treat,” you promise.
“Nah, don’t think i’ll have the time,” He says, clearly less sad than he was a few moments ago.
“Oh yeah? Busy with what? Trying to tear down the government from the inside?” You laugh.
“Of course not, that’s for the first saturday of every month. I’ll be busy being Spiderman,” he says, cuddling closer to your blanket.
You stop immediately. Your mind goes blank, the world around you stops. You’re suddenly much more awake than you have ever been. Hobie is… no you can’t even say it. The man you’ve hated ever since you had moved in was the person you loved more than anything else? That can’t be right, he’s having a laugh. That’s gotta be it.
“I don’t believe in comedy,” you remember him saying.
Fuck. He’s not joking, is he?
“What?” you manage to get out.
“I’ll be busy, being spiderman and all. Yknow who that is right? Don’t know if you noticed but he’s- i mean I’m kinda all over your room,” he lets out a drunk giggle.
He pulls out his mask from the pocket of his jacket and handed it to you.
“See?”
You grab it in disbelief. You run your hand over the spandex in awe. Spiderman is right in front of you, you realize.
Oh. My. God. SPIDERMAN IS RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU.
You just can’t believe the man you’ve idolized for years was in your bed. YOUR BED.
Hobie takes the blanket off of him, lifting up his shirt to reveal his suit. Blue and fucking red material.
“I don’t believe in the labels though. It’s stupid,” He says in the most Hobie way possible.
“You’re a superhero,” you say, still a little shocked.
“No. No, don't say that. I'm not a hero, because calling yourself a hero makes you a self-mythologising, narcissistic autocrat,” He says. God even drunk he’s still a smart ass.
“So you still wanna go out?” He asks.
“What? I just found out you’re fucking Spiderman and that’s what you’re asking me? If I want to go out with you?” You respond.
“I mean what else is there to say? I already know you love me,” he nods to the spiderman memorabilia.
Even in this state he still leaves you speechless.
“Well- yeah I guess. We can go out,” you say slowly.
“Cool,” he nods.
He lifts up the blanket and scoots over, inviting you into your bed with him. You roll your eyes and get in with him. He wraps his arms around you and smiles.
“I knew you wanted to snog me from the start,” he laughs.
Hobie is still pretty infuriating, but that is slowly becoming one of your favorite things about him.
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back2bluesidex · 8 months
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Bad Idea - JJK (18+)
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Pairing: Jungkook X Fem!Reader
Theme: PWP, SMUT, Fluff, established relationship au
Wordcount: 1.4k+
Summary: Accepting Jungkook's invitation to watch him train topless was such a bad idea.
Warnings: Rough sex, sex on a bathroom counter, doggy style, Jungkook is jealous, name calling, little bit of degrading, Jungkook cums on her ass, reader is kinky about Jungkook's back, unprotected sex (wrap it up). NSFW!!
Minors are not allowed in this blog!!
A/N: Sorry but I couldn't help.
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It was a bad idea. 
Accepting Jungkook’s invitation to watch him train was a bad, actually very bad, idea. Because now you are having to clench your thighs tightly thinking of the feeling that you might feel by raking your nails through Jungkook’s toned, thick, manly back. 
You adjust your position in the seat a bit, rubbing your core on the leather of the seat cover in the process. 
This is just pathetic. 
Rubbing yourself off (with the help of inanimate objects) while watching your own boyfriend and being unable to do anything about it, is just so pathetic. 
You gulp your own drool each time Jungkook’s muscles flex. Fuck. This is getting unbearable. 
“He’s sexy, isn’t he?” One of Jungkook’s trainers comes out of nowhere and takes the seat beside you. 
“I - What? Excuse me?” You don’t know what to reply, especially when he is complimenting your boyfriend, who is indeed very sexy. 
“I said Jungkook is sexy.” He smirks at you. 
“Oh yeah. That he is.” You turn your face towards your boyfriend again. He still has his back turned towards you. But your eyes met his, through the mirror. 
“That’s why he has such a sexy girlfriend all for himself.” the man chuckles in a low voice. 
What the fuck. Who is he after? You or Jungkook?
“Who are you after Mister? Me or him?” You raise one of your eyebrows at him. 
“Maybe both of you?” he replies nonchalantly. 
“What-” you start to speak but get cut off instantly. 
“Hey babe. Could you please help me a little?” Jungkook stands right in front of you with his sweaty half naked body glistening under the white light of the gym. 
You smile up at him understanding that he is here for your rescue. But fuck. You probably thought too soon cause his eyes are darker and there is a tick in his jaw. 
You gulp again. 
“Sure. Tell me what can I do?” you mutter, standing up from the seat. 
“Follow me.” he says with a voice a few octaves lower than his usual one. 
So you do what fits best for you. You follow him. 
“Can you take one of the damp towels and wipe my back?” Jungkook should be requesting you but the tension in his voice makes the sentence sound more like an order. 
You take the said object and walk towards the restroom counter where he is leaning forward to give you a good access to his back. 
“What’s wrong? Why do you sound so mad?” You whisper, wiping a strip of his back. 
That fucking back again. Your thighs rub against each other without you noticing. 
“He was flirting with you.” Your boyfriend growls. 
“He was complimenting you. Umm… actually both of us.” You keep on wiping the sweat off of his back. 
“What did he say?” Jungkook asks, his eyes meet you through the mirror again. 
“He said both of us are sexy and he is after both of us.” you gulp, yet again. 
Before you can register what is happening, Jungkook spins on his heels, holds you by your waist and interchanges your positions. So now you are pressed against the bathroom counter and his body is towering yours. 
“He has been eyeing you since the moment you walked in. That fucker thinks I have not noiticed. I gotta tell him who you belong to.” His right hand travels south and grabs your ass harshly. You wince a little at the impact. 
“He has been eyeing you too.” you murmur. 
He smirks, “Mark me then. Tell him that I am only yours.” 
The offer is tempting indeed and you can’t help but fantasize about scratching that back of his. So you quit waiting and crash your lips on his. 
Jungkook kisses you back immediately. He sucks your lips so hard that you fear they might bruise afterwards. His tongue pokes inside your mouth in order to taste you more deeply. 
Granting him access, you warp your hands around his midsection. 
His back is so toned, yet so soft that your nails dig into it in their own accord. 
Jungkook groans into your mouth clearly being satisfied with your scratches. 
He detaches his mouth from yours, a string of saliva connects two of you now. “You think I didn’t see you trying to rub that cunt on the seat? Huh? You dirty little girl.” 
“Not my fault when you have 90% of your body on display like that.” you fight back. 
Jungkook chuckles, “Then why don’t you take the rest of the 10% too? Hmm?” 
His hand leaves your ass and reaches for your exposed inner thigh. It dives down into your skirt without any warning and heads for your clit. 
Jungkook hisses, finding you very wet already. He rubs your clit through the thin material of your panties, arousing you even more. You tilt your head back in pleasure and Jungkook takes the chance to paint bruises all over your neck and collarbone. 
You moan his name as he bits down on the crook of your neck. His fingers slide through the seam of your panties and poke into your entrance. 
You roll your hip to reach out for his teasing fingers and hit his growing bulge with your upper belly in the process. 
“Fuck, Y/N” Jungkook groans “I need to be inside you.” 
You nod somehow, “me too. Fuck. I need you too.” 
“Turn around for me.” he commands and you comply without wasting any time. 
Jungkook pushes your face down on the counter by placing a hand on your neck and holds your waist to still you with another. Once he is satisfied with your position, he hooks two of his fingers on the waistband on your panties and pulls that down. The article of cloth pools down on your ankes and you kick that off readily. 
He hikes your skirt, exposing your ass. 
“God, I love this booty.” A slap lands on your right asscheek without any warning. 
“Ahhh fuck-” You wince in pain mixed pleasure. Jungkook parts your legs and spreads them open. His tattooed arm rests on your ass and the other one tugs his shorts and boxers down revealing his erection. 
Oh how you wish you could see Jungkook right now but the way you are positioned, makes it impossible even to take a look through the bathroom mirror. 
Jungkook pumps his length once and then pushes the head of his cock into your slit. The tip brushes through your clit making you moan several incoherent words. 
“Are you ready to take me in, babygirl?” he asks, rubbing your clit with his tip once more. You nod urgently. 
He collects some of your slick on his tip before pushing his length into your hot, wet core. Once he is midway in there, he pulls his cock back out and slams it all in one go. 
Your body jerks up with the sheer force he has put into his action. 
“Can I move now?” Jungkook whispers into your ear, reaching down to your face and placing a kiss on your temple. 
“Y-yes pl-please.” you manage to reply. 
Jungkook starts moving slowly but he soon takes up an erratic pace. His pelvic area slams into your ass with each thrust he forces into you. 
“Fuck f-fuck Jungkoo- feels s-so good.” you drool on the counter. 
“Yeah? My cock feels good? That’s why you suck it so well, you dirty bitch?” Jungkook’s hoarse voice only adds up to your pleasure by tenfold. And naturally, you feel yourself getting close.
“Gonna c-cum.” you announce. 
“Cum on my cock pretty girl.” Jungkook’s fingers find your clit as he starts rubbing figure eight vigorously. 
“Fuck fuck fuck” and with that you cum on his cock. 
Your legs feel like jelly, you know they might give out at any second. Probably jungkook knows that too, hence, he wraps his tattooed arm around your waist and fucks you into overstimulation. 
Once his thrusts loose rhythm, you feel him twitching inside you. 
“Fuck. We are not using condoms.” Jungkook groans. He pulls is cock out of your hole, jerks it once and cums all over your ass. 
His thick whiteness drips down your ass and thigh. Some spills on the floor, some drops down on your snickers and some gets soaked by your socks. 
Jungkook cleans up both of you, tugs himself back into his boxers and shorts and then helps you in getting into your underwear like the good boyfriend that he is. 
“Let’s go home.” He pulls you into his embrace and kisses the top of your head. 
“Yeah but you will have to carry me ‘cause I don’t think I can walk.” both of you chuckle heading for the door.
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Taglist:
@phenomenalgirl9 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @soraviie @sukunabitch @chimchimmarie @coffeedepressionsoup @meowstake @vonvi-blog @nochuel @chimmisbae
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asbealthgn · 10 months
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wrote this goofy thing as an expansion of this post
It’s very surprising when the door to Eddie’s trailer opens and Eddie is standing there with flowers.
It’s even more surprising when he says, “Happy one month!” with a big grin.
Steve looks back and forth between Eddie and the flowers—wildflowers by the look of them, probably picked around the edges of the trailer park. “Uh, one month of what?”
Eddie gives him an uncertain smile like he’s not sure if Steve’s being serious or not. “Of our relationship,” he says, the last syllable tilting up almost like a question.
Huh. Kind of weird, but at the start of summer Steve and Robin had an ice cream party to celebrate the year anniversary of when they started at Scoops together. So it’s not like this is completely unheard of. Except—
“You and I have been friends for longer than a month,” Steve says, “It’s been like—” he tries to count the months since spring break in his head “—at least four? Unless you don’t count when you were unconscious in the hospital, but that was only a couple weeks, so—”
“I mean one month of our relationship,” Eddie says, putting emphasis on the word. And now his eyebrows are drawn together. Face concerned. And Steve is clearly missing something here.
Did something significant happen a month ago? Some moment where they moved from friends to best friends or something? It was probably about a month or so ago the first time Steve spent the night at Eddie’s trailer, but that wasn’t a huge deal. Steve has spent the night at the Byers’ house before and it’s not like he and Jonathan are breaking out the balloons to commemorate it. 
Steve feels guilty, because clearly there’s something that Eddie thinks he should know that he doesn’t. He doesn’t like this nervous look on Eddie’s face. Steve tries to think like Nancy, tries to put the clues together. But he’s not Nancy. So he’s lost. 
“I’m sorry, dude,” Steve says, “I don’t get what you mean.”
Eddie deflates.
“I know we haven’t necessarily defined it.” His voice is wavering, eyes getting watery. Shit shit shit, what did Steve do? This is so completely out of nowhere and Steve doesn’t know how to fix it. “But I didn’t realize it was actually that insignificant to you.”
Steve shoots his arm out to stop Eddie from closing the door on him. He needs to figure out what’s going on so he can make it right, and that’s not gonna happen if Eddie shuts him out. “Eds, seriously, you’re gonna have to fill me in,” he says, “‘Cause I honestly don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”
“Seriously?” Eddie asks, anger over taking the sadness in his voice, “You’re gonna act like you don’t know?”
“I don’t!” Steve nearly shouts, desperate. “Please, man, I’m not trying to piss you off here. Whatever it is, I wanna make it right. You just have to tell me what you mean.”
“You and I,” Eddie says. Looking at him like it should be obvious. When it’s so, so not. It makes Steve want to scream. “We’re—I thought we were together.”
“Together? Like…together how?”
Steve doesn’t think he’s ever seen Eddie look this pissed off. “Use your goddamned brain, Harrington,” he spits, “Like together.”
Oh. Okay. That’s…something. It’s not that Steve would necessarily be opposed, or even that he hasn’t thought of it. It’s just not true. They’re not together. And he’s not sure why Eddie thinks they are. Yeah, they’re close, but it’s not like they’re closer than Steve and Robin. It’s not like they’re closer than Steve was to Tommy back in the day. He and Eddie haven’t done anything that feels outside the realm of friendship to him. And he definitely didn’t realize that Eddie saw it any differently.
“Um,” Steve says, aware that he’s standing like an idiot on Eddie’s doorstep and needs to answer. “Why?”
“Oh my God,” Eddie says, making as if to close the door again. Steve barely catches it in time. It makes Eddie glare at him. “There’s no way you’re being serious,” he says.
Keeping one hand on the door, Steve throws up the other one in a gesture he stole from Robin. “I really am,” he says, “You know what the kids say. I’m an idiot. You really have to lay things out for me.”
That at least makes Eddie soften a few degrees. “You’re not an idiot, Steve,” he says, “You’re just—oblivious, apparently.”
“Yeah, that too.”
Eddie sighs. “Just come in. We can talk about it.” He steps back and lets Steve come inside. The flowers are still clutched in Eddie’s hand, starting to wilt. Eddie sets them on the table before joining Steve on the couch. 
“A month ago is when you stayed over for the first time,” Eddie says. Steve nods. “And you kissed me.” Steve nods again. Eddie lifts his eyebrows significantly. “You’re not seeing the connection?”
Steve shrugs. “I mean, I guess there’s other ways you could construe that,” he says, “But I thought it was, like, a friend kiss. A goodnight kiss.”
“A friend kiss,” Eddie says flatly. “You kiss a lot of your friends?”
“Sure,” Steve says, “Well, Robin prefers forehead kisses and Jonathan’s more of a hug guy, but I used to kiss Tommy and Carol all the time.”
Disbelief is the main emotion on Eddie’s face. And a whole lot of other ones that Steve can’t quite parse out. “So—everything we’ve done,” Eddie says, slowly, like he’s trying to come to terms with it. “It’s all just…been normal friend shit to you?”
Steve thinks back over the last month, trying to think if anything stands out in his head as non-platonic. Maybe there’s been a time or two when he was kissing Eddie or cuddling up to him in bed or sitting on his lap during D&D where Steve’s felt a sort of stirring deep in his belly. But he figured that was one-sided. His body’s reaction to whatever was happening and not a manifestation of, like, feelings or something. After all, the same thing used to happen with Tommy when they’d do similar stuff. And clearly they were just friends.
After a full twenty seconds of Steve not answering, Eddie drops his head in his hands. “Holy shit,” he mutters. Then he lifts his head. “This—you—the other day. You slept over. We made out. You—you took my fucking shirt off, Steve.”
Yeah, that did happen. And Steve doesn’t have a great explanation for it. “I don’t know,” he says, “It was the heat of the moment or whatever.”
“The heat of the moment,” Eddie repeats, and Steve can’t tell if he’s on the verge of tears or the verge of laughing. Eddie puts his arm on the back of the couch and leans toward Steve. “Can you honestly say that you’re not attracted to me at all?”
Annoyingly, Steve can feel his face start to heat. “I never said that,” he mutters.
For the first time, Eddie looks triumphant. “So you are attracted to me?”
“Yeah, man,” Steve says, squirming uncomfortably. Of course he’s attracted to Eddie. What’s not to be attracted to? He’s smart, funny, hot, good with the kids, good on the guitar, good at kissing. Helped save the world. “You’re, like, it for me. I definitely think about you that way. I just didn’t think you thought about me that way.”
Eddie laughs, the sound containing more disbelief than humor, but still overall a good thing. “I can’t believe the guy who’s been sharing my bed for the past month didn’t think I was into him.”
“Hey, you’re not the only person whose bed I’ve shared.” Shit, that was a bad way to put it. “Platonically.”
Shaking his head, Eddie laughs again. “Clearly, your idea of platonic does not line up with mine,” he says. “But you mean it? You’re into me?”
“Yeah, Eds,” Steve says, “I’m into you.”
“So, does that mean you’d want to be my boyfriend?”
“Apparently I already have been for the past month,” Steve says, grinning.
Eddie grins back. “Doesn’t count if you didn’t know.”
“Then we can count from today,” Steve says, “Starting now, I’m your boyfriend.”
He hasn’t finished saying the last word before Eddie is surging forward and taking Steve’s face in his hands. He shifts onto Steve’s lap, kissing him deeply. 
And it doesn’t feel platonic at all.
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i-am-a-fish · 1 month
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I've not been doing very well lately in terms of money, please be honest with me, do you think I should set up a patreon again or do you think that's lame
I'm sorry to ask this, I wanted to get a feel for how people felt about something like this before publishing one out of nowhere. I know a lot of creators have patreons but I always feel scummy asking for money when I don't feel like I do anything tangible or consistent, if that makes sense
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verstappen-cult · 2 months
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Max and Charles taking care of you during a night out, when you’ve drink a little too much.
You look around, trying to find your boys but they are nowhere to be seen, which leaves you wandering around until you find two of their friends, Daniel and Carlos, sitting on a couch talking.
“Hey, boys!” You say, happily, flopping down onto the couch right in the middle of them. You’ve interrupted their conversation but you don’t notice. They exchange looks, which you don’t notice either, and Carlos is up in a second, excusing himself.
“Hey, stranger.” Daniel says, moving closer. “‘What are you drinking?” He tries to take a look at your cup, but you take it to your lips.
"You wanna try it?" You ask him, words slurred.
"Yeah, let me just—" He goes to take the cup from your hands at the same time that you bring it closer to him, causing it to fall on Daniel's lap. "Shit!"
"I'm so sorry, Dani!" You look for something to clean the big stain on Daniel's blue jeans and, with you fuzzy brain, you decide that the only thing that could do the work is your dress. So, you take the hem of your dress, moving even closer to Dani – almost on his lap – not caring about your dress getting dirty.
“It’s okay.” He laughs. If he’s pissed he doesn’t show it, that’s how it always is with Dani. “Y/N, it’s okay!” Daniel tries to move away but you are decided to clean the spilled drink, even if it’s impossible by now.
“What’s happening?” Max’s voice cuts through the air. You lift your head up, eyes glazed over.
“I spilled my drink,” You sniff, looking between your boyfriend and the stain on the boy’s leg. “but Dani won’t let me help him.”
“I don’t think there’s anything you can do, princess.” Charles sits by your side, hands immediately pulling your dress down. “Dani will take care of it, yes?”
Daniel nods. “It’s nothing, really. I have like a dozen of these same jeans.” His big, warm smile makes you feel better. Just a little, you still feel like a fool. “I’ll borrow something from Carlos.” He winks at you before standing up and getting lost.
Max sighs, crossing his arms and staring you down.
“What did we say about mixing different drinks?”
“I was just having fun with Lando.” You pout, looking at your stained dress.
Charles grins and presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “What did you drink?”
“Just a few shots of tequila.” You shrug, snuggling closer to Charles. “Oh, did you know he makes this delicious vodka with cranberry juice?”
Max sighs, shaking his head in disapproval. “What else?”
“Your favorite drink.” You look at him beneath your eyelashes.
“Don’t look at me like that.” Max frowns and closes his mouth. “We talked about this.”
“Relax, Max.” Charles chimes in, working his arm around your waist. “She learned her lesson, right?”
You nod enthusiastically, which is a bad idea because it makes you feel dizzy. Max is immediately moving closer, kneeling in front of you.
“Easy there, baby. We don’t want you throwing up in the middle of the living room.” Max strokes your hair and you can’t help but lean into his touch, relaxed.
“Should we go home?” Charles asks him.
“But I don’t wanna go!” You know you always – well, most of the time – get what you want if you pout, so, that’s exactly what you do.
“What? You wanna go back to drink with Lando?”
“Well, no, but I don’t wanna ruin your night.”
“Oh, baby, you’re not ruining our night. We’d rather be with you at home.” Charles kisses your cheek and you giggle, feeling warm.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, let’s get you home, pretty girl.”
Max helps you stand up, his arm around your waist to help you walk. Not that you need it, you’re just a little tipsy. But you like it when they act all protective over you. Charles makes sure to let their friends know they are leaving before joining you and Max outside.
You lean against the car, pouting for what feels like the hundredth time in the night. “Can we go to McDonald’s?”
949 notes · View notes
evera-era · 6 months
Text
pretty on camera.
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ellie williams x afab!reader
warnings: tlou!au, slight coercion, dirty talk, oral e!receiving, fingering, spanking, ellie is kinda rough, sex tape !!
a/n: writer’s block has been pretty horrible so i’m sorry for the delay on this </3 not proofread (yet… will do later)
You hear Ellie’s footsteps behind you. She enters the bedroom you’re in, giving a small sigh. The two of you were currently on patrol, scouting a cabin. This route typically didn’t give you any problems; it could be a bit of a drag.
“Everything good?” You ask, opening up a desk drawer.
“Yeah, it’s all clear.” She replies. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing,” You mumble. “Fuckin’ around a little.”
She scoffs, smirking. “Don’t let Maria find out.”
You picked up a small glass marble sitting in the corner of the drawer. You roll it between your fingers.
“I won’t tell if you won’t,” You add.
Ellie shrugs, watching you. You set the marble down and look over at the bed. You pause for a second before getting on your knees to check underneath it.
“Depends,” She replies, shifting her weight on her feet. “What’s in it for me?”
“We bein’ PG?” You ask her.
You can hear Ellie emit a small chuckle from above. During your search, your eyes catch onto a bulky, grey object. Upon further inspection, it appears to be a camcorder. You furrow your brows in disbelief.
“No fucking way.” You say under your breath. You grab it and pull it out to examine it. You push yourself up from the ground, opting to sit crisscrossed instead.
At first sight, the camcorder was dusty, but in relatively good condition. You were hesitant about whether it had any battery left, and if the battery would even work. But it was worth a shot.
“Check this out,” You say, chucking the camera at Ellie. She catches it in a swift movement.
“A camera?” She comments. “Wouldn’t be the first we found.”
“But it could be the first that works,” You reply. “C’mon, let’s try and turn it on.”
Ellie rolls her eyes, thoroughly believing the attempt would be futile. But she does what you say.
When a small flash of green blinks on one of the buttons, her eyes widen.
“Holy shit,” She mumbles.
“I told you!” You exclaim, getting back onto your feet. You join her and peer over her shoulder.
The quality isn’t the best, but it’s working. Ellie navigates the menu to see if there’s any memory on it. A small video plays, only for a few seconds, of a black screen.
“That’s it?” You question. “Anything else?”
She frowns, scrolling through but ultimately getting nowhere. “If that’s the case, there’s a shitton of storage left.”
You look at Ellie from the corner of your eye. She squints at you.
“What?”
You straighten your back, looking away in a dramatic fashion. “Nothing… totally nothing.”
She cocks her head to the side. “Seriously — what?”
You look up at her with a sly grin. She blankly stares, then shakes her head.
“You’re fucking insane.”
“I didn’t say anything!”
“You don’t have to!” She hisses. “You’re such a fucking whore, I swear.”
You giggle at her reaction before sighing exasperatedly. “Okay, okay. Fine. Don’t make a porno with me, it’s fine.”
You begin heading for the door before Ellie clears her throat. You turn to look over at her.
She looks up at you through her lashes. “I mean… I didn’t say that I wouldn’t.”
The only thing that can be heard is the faint ticking from the face on your watch. You raise your eyebrows at the auburn-haired girl.
“Are you saying you will?”
She stumbles on her words. “I— Shouldn’t we at least wait ‘til we get back to Jackson?”
“Technically, we should.” You smirk. “But should we?”
Ellie’s face flushes. You walk up to her, taking her hands in yours as she watches you closely.
“C’mon.” You whisper, hooking your finger through her belt loop. “You’re not even the slightest bit curious to see what it’s like to fuck me on camera?”
Her face reddens even deeper as she looks over at the wall. When her eyes meet yours again, she gives you a stern look.
“If we get in trouble, it’s on you.”
“So… is that a yes?” You say. Ellie bites down on her lip, nodding.
“You’re gonna be the death of me, y’know that?”
You get on your knees, quickly pushing your hair back and out of your face.
“Don’t worry, Els. I’ll make it up to you real soon.”
“You fuckin’ better,” She whispers.
As you unbutton her pants, Ellie struggles to get the camera on the right setting. It’s hard for her to think straight.
“How the fuck do I even work this thing?”
“You were doing it just fine a moment ago,” You comment.
“Yeah, well… wasn’t bout to get laid a moment ago. Mind’s foggy.” She huffs. “Ah, there we go.”
She wipes the lens on the bottom of her shirt before pressing record. You look up at her, smiling.
“Wanna tell them what we’re doing, Els?” You ask coyly, looking between her and the camera.
“T-Them?” She stutters. “Wait, we’re sharing this?”
“No,” You giggle. “Well, unless you want to.”
Ellie’s silent, distracted by your actions. You place a small peck above her pantyline. “C’mon, babe.”
“Okay, okay,” She sighs. “Uh… this is Ellie and Y/N. About to… fuck… on morning patrol. Totally not my idea to do this on the job, by the way.”
You flick her thigh.
“Ouch!” She whines. “Gosh. As you can see… my girlfriend is very, very naughty.”
“Mm, how so?” You press, tugging down on her underwear.
“Do I have to narrate everything?” She moans. “I… I can’t think straight like this.”
“You’re so cute,” You comment. “Alright, fine. Just hold the camera still.”
Ellie does as you say, stabilizing the camera with one hand and placing the other behind your head. Her fingers entangle themselves in your hair as you take the first lick, running your tongue up her folds.
“Mm,” You breathe against her skin. “For someone with no intentions of doing this, you sure are wet…”
“Shut up,” She groans, tightening her grip on your hair. “Not my fault. Your ass was basically swallowing your jeans.”
You hum in delight, dragging your tongue back and forth along her slit. She folds her bottom lip under her teeth, hands slightly shaking from anticipation.
You bring your eyes back up to the camera as you engulf her clit into your mouth. She hisses, her mouth watering, desperately trying to hold onto the camera when all she wants to do is pull you up and bend you over.
“Fuck,” She grunts, dropping her other hand from your hair and bringing it around to cup your face. You moan against her touch, continuing to lick and suck on her swollen bud.
“Shit,” She murmurs. “Fuck yeah, right there.”
She watches you closely through the lens, becoming wetter at the mere sight of you on a pixelated screen.
You’re such a slut for doing this, she thinks. Making her film you while you pleasure her, while you worship her cunt. For encapsulating this moment into a camera you found mere minutes ago. And on patrol, no less.
“Taste so good, Els.” You mumble after pulling away to catch your breath. “So sweet.”
“Yeah?” She purrs. “Stick your tongue out, lemme see.”
You obey her command, and she has to stop herself from letting her eyes roll into the back of her head.
It was so slutty, the way her juices coated your tongue in a translucent shimmer. Her green eyes bore into yours as she puts her thumb in your mouth, watching as you lick and suck on it.
The sensation alone sends zaps right to her cunt, which was practically dripping. You brought your hand out to it and delicately spread her pussy lips apart.
“Such a good girl for me,” She murmurs, watching you intently. You look up innocently at her as you insert one finger, then two.
Ellie groans in response, clenching onto the camera as her pussy clenches onto your fingers.
“So tight,” You whisper, taking a second to let her warm up to the feeling before pushing deeper inside. “And warm.”
After a few strokes back and forth, you began picking up the pace. She was squelching around your fingers — filthy, she thinks, such a filthy sound — and she was nearly seeing stars.
“Goddamn,” She mutters, tempted to grind against your touch, but opting to capture you in your essence instead. She brings the camera down a little more, so it’s lined up perfectly. You take notice; looking at the lens while you begin sucking on her cunt yet again, your fingers still pumping.
Ellie wants to speak, but can’t even form coherent words. Instead, she drawls into guttural, breathy moans as she copes with the stimulation. She was practically losing her mind from this, and eventually, her steady hold on the camera dwindles.
“Baby,” She winces, looking down at you. “Babe— fuck— I’m so fuckin’ close.”
You nod your head, lips still attached to her cunt as you continue fingering her harshly. She sighs, throwing her head back.
“God, fuck,” She hisses. “Just like that, princess. Fuck! Make me fuckin’ cum.”
It was hard to hear the obscenities she was grunting out when she was so wet, but you moaned against her nonetheless. It wasn’t often you got to see Ellie let herself go; seeing her get to that point was almost rewarding.
The orgasm that ripples through her body is strong. Her mouth is agape, eyes clenched tight as she comes undone. The look on her face is almost painful, but you know it’s not — it just took a lot out of her.
When she comes down from her high, she blinks a few times, trying to combat her blurry vision. She pants, palms clammy around the camcorder as she looks at you. You were wiping your mouth off and sucking your fingers clean.
“How was it?” You asked innocently. Her gaze becomes concentrated, like a switch, and she tilts her head towards the bed.
“Fuckin’ amazing,” She huffs. “Your turn.”
You become slightly shy at the proposal. “What? B-But—“
“No but’s,” She replies. “C’mon, ass up.”
You blush. You had assumed that once you got her off, she’d be ready to go back to Jackson, but clearly that wasn’t the case.
So you do as she says, peeling your pants off before climbing onto the bed on all fours.
“What, you don’t have anything else to say?” She asks, switching the camera to her other hand. She places a hard slap on your ass, and you moan.
“Hard to speak when you’re the receiver, huh?”
You bite your lip as she aims the camera to get a full view of your ass. Her thumb pushes into you easily, thanks to the accumulation of slick that gathered at your core. Your cheeks warm at her movements.
“C’mon, baby.” She says. “Tell them what I’m doing.”
“We— We’re—“
Another slap, right on your ass.
“Speak up.”
“I— Ellie’s touching me,” You murmur.
“How?” She whispers. “How am I touching you?”
“Fingering me…” You add. “Ellie’s fingering my pussy.”
“And what a sweet fuckin’ pussy you have.” She grunts. “Turn over, lay on your back.”
Once your back hits the bed, Ellie straddles you almost immediately. You’re met with the camera lens once again.
“Look at that face,” She smirks. “So fuckin’ hot.”
She pushes her index and middle finger inside of you, making sure to catch what she’s doing on film. Meanwhile, outside of the frame, you’re scrunching your eyebrows up in pleasure.
Ellie was ruthless. She knew your hot spots, and practically abused that knowledge. She knew how to make you cum, and how to make you cum quick. You were kneading at your tits in an attempt to absolve the overstimulation.
“E-Els,” You whine, grinding up against her hand.
She doesn’t say anything, so set on the way your pussy looks around your fingers. You mewl.
“Ellie,” You moan.
“Hm?” She says, looking up at you. “What, gonna cum already?”
You nod, teary-eyed, toes clenching at the edge of the bed.
“Look at the camera and say it.” She whispers.
“G-Gonna—“
“Who?” She cuts you off. “C’mon, use your words… who’s makin’ you cum?”
“You, Ellie,” You breathe out, using your hands to pull at the bedsheets behind your head. “Ellie’s gonna, fuck, Ellie’s makin’ me cum.”
“Atta girl,” She murmurs. “Good girl.”
You moan, rocking your hips gently in an attempt to gain more friction against her hand. Your orgasm comes rather quickly, and has you whining and pulsing hard around her fingers.
Ellie makes sure to catch your o-face on camera; if by some miracle this camera turns on again later, she would need that content for lonely nights.
“There you go,” She says quietly, taking one last full-view shot of your body before shutting the camera off. She tosses it over into the pillows and leans down into you.
“My god,” You moan as Ellie presses several kisses against your breasts. She looks up at you, placing a final kiss against your lips, making you smile.
“See?” You whisper after a moment. “I told you it’d be fun.”
She nods meekly, raising her eyebrows. “I… didn’t think I’d enjoy it that much. Was definitely worth it.”
You look up at the ceiling as she rolls over to the side. She begins pulling her clothes on.
“Babe?” She says, looking over at you.
“I know I kinda fucked the shit outta you just now, but we should really head back. Y’know, if we don’t wanna get our asses chewed.”
You groan in response. She chuckles.
“Alright, alright. I’ll give you five minutes to get cleaned up. Meet me out front, okay?”
You grin, rubbing your eyes. “Okay.”
Ellie leaves a few seconds later. And when you go to reach for the camera, you realize she took it, with the rest of her belongings.
2K notes · View notes
pseudowho · 26 days
Text
A Reliable Man
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Sometimes the hero you want, isn't always the hero you need.
A Kiyotaka Ijichi appreciation smutfic.
Warnings: 18+, MDNI, loss of virginity
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"Ijichi...can you come and collect me, please?"
"Of course. Just send your location over."
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"Ijichi, it's so late. Are you okay to collect me?"
"Don't worry, I've been waiting. Have you eaten?"
"Oh...I haven't. It's alright, I can sort myself out--"
"I'll pick something up. It's no trouble."
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"--ah, shit-- Ijichi, call the school-- I need backup, urgently."
"Hold on. Get somewhere safe. I'll call everyone-- anyone. Get to safety. Please."
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"Ijichi, I--...I can't thank you enough. I wouldn't have made it out of there if you hadn't called for help. I...I really am sorry."
A pause. A soft sigh.
"...please, don't be sorry. You're out there saving lives. You don't have to be sorry about anything."
----------------
Ijichi--
...your finger hovered over your phone screen. You saw the time; 10pm. You felt a familiar squirm of shame, disgusted by yourself for demanding so much of Kiyotaka Ijichi.
He was off the clock...you were in the middle of nowhere. Somewhere along the way, you had forgotten how hard he worked; while directing all of the assistants should have been a full time job in itself, Ijichi stepped above and beyond, by sacrificing his time, his effort, his safety, shift after shift after shift.
You tapped your phone against your forehead, eyes closed as you sighed. You decided to walk home. It would take you hours, but it was still better than--
Your phone vibrated in your hand. You looked at the screen.
Kiyotaka Ijichi.
You answered immediately, flustered, the words catching in your throat. Ijichi got there first. His voice, calm, soft, worried.
"I just...thought I'd check in. There aren't any drivers on tonight, but you're out on a mission. Are you home yet?" Tears pricked in your eyes, and you gulped.
"Ijichi.. you're not even at work. What are you doing? Calling me? You need a break." You chastised him. He laughed weakly, apologising in a flurry as you told him off.
"--it's my job to make sure you get hom--"
"--no it's not, Ijichi." Silence on the line. Ijichi waited for you, as he had a hundred times before, "It's not your job to get me home. Not every time. You...why are you...you need a break."
Another soft sigh; another warm pause.
"And I'll have a break," he continued, quietly determined, "when you're home safe. Send me your location. I'm on my way."
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He had opened the door for you. Gently laughed off your reproach. The seats were already warm. A hot drink, in a thermos. A snack bar in the glovebox.
Ijichi looked tired; by this point, you weren't sure if that was just his face, but you felt a strange flutter of sweet relief, joy, to be smiled at by him, as if you were worth the late hour and lack of sleep.
Ijichi cast his eyes over you, relaxing, "You're...not hurt. That's good. I'm--...I'm happy to pick you up," he offered, awkwardly, "but I've had enough of scraping you up and dragging you to Shoko."
You felt such prickling uncertainty bubble in you. Why were you suddenly shy in his presence? Why did his eyes casting over you feel so like a caress? Why did you not want the journey to end?
"Dinner," you blurted out, and Ijichi raised his eyebrows, eyes fixed on the road, "we should get dinner. If you've not eaten. I've not eaten. But if you don't want to eat then that's fine too I know it's late--"
"No no no, please don't-- yes, please, dinner sounds...lovely."
You took a moment to look down at yourself; muddy, dirty, bedraggled.
"Uhm...at yours, maybe? We'll order takeout?" You were too busy examining the state of yourself to see the blush that fizzed across Ijichi's sharp cheeks.
"I-- uhm--...sure. Yes. That would be...agreeable."
"So formal, Ijichi."
"Shush. I'm a professional."
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"So..." you finished your mouthful, trying not to feel embarrassed about being dressed in one of Ijichi's old t-shirts and sweatpants, "...he really said that? To quit, and get a driving licence?"
Ijichi laughed, his smile parting the clouds and making him look fifteen years younger. You couldn't help but laugh with him, your hand coming to cover your mouth, giggling together on his sofa like teenagers.
Ijichi wiped his eyes, sighing; "Gojo's a force of nature, it's true...but I probably owe him my life. I...feel like I can do more good in my current role, than I could have ever done on the front lines."
Setting down your plate, and wrapping your arms around your knees, you watched Ijichi, fascinated to see him slowly unwind, his loosening coils releasing the stresses of the day. You had never seen him like this...so relaxed. So happy.
You felt another odd squirm, this time a possessive, protective determination that he should never participate in Jujutsu Sorcery. That he should always be safe. You reached out for his hand, stroking his long, smooth fingers in yours.
Ijichi froze, so uncertain about how to react, having never had anyone show interest in him, barely even his parents, let alone a beautiful woman like you--
"You are the lifeblood of the sorcerers, Ijichi," you smiled, "and we'd fall apart without you. I'd fall apart--"
You were close now, almost sat on his lap. Your face was so close to his, that he felt your breath fan against his neck. He couldn't keep pretending he only checked in on you because it was his job. He couldn't keep pretending it barely bothered him when he saw you walk into danger. He couldn't keep pretending he didn't think about you all day and all night--
Ijichi pressed a kiss to your lips so fast, it felt like butterfly's wings. You gaped, wide-eyed, a blush creeping across your cheeks.
"I--I'm so sorry, that was-- that was highly inappropriate of me and I--...mmmfff..."
You had pulled Ijichi in by his collar, continuing the kiss he had started, with such heartfelt sincerity that Ijichi could have cried. You felt the wounds of so many horrible, selfish, unreliable boyfriends past. Ijichi felt the wounds of so many crushes, hopes and rejections past. Neither of you had noticed the treasure beneath your feet for the longest time-- unforgivably long.
Ijichi's hands clenched uncertainly as you kissed him, unsure where they should sit. He happily took your lead, tentatively responding to every press, every fluid movement of your supple lips against his. Only when your tongue swiped across his mouth, did Ijichi groan and respond instinctively, one hand coming up to push his glasses on top of his head, the other snaking to the back of your neck as he tugged you onto his lap.
You had never kissed someone who you knew would fight to the ends of the earth for you, and for whom you would reciprocate without question. A man who appreciated you as you were and wholeheartedly, and about whom you felt the same. A trustworthy man. A sincere man. A reliable man.
You pulled away for a moment, still holding his collar as you straddled his lap, panting against his lips; "Where have you been all my life?"
"In the front seat...just hoping to catch your eye in the mirror."
Crashing your lips against his again, sighing into his mouth, Ijichi's body strained with the heat of your thighs trapping him in. He was desperate to pull his shirt off, to feel your skin on his...except you needed him to act like he knew exactly what he was doing and--
"--wait...wait," Ijichi panted, resting his head against your shoulder, his hair ruffled, a pained grimace on his face. You cupped his cheeks, feeling him, hard and aching beneath you as he squirmed with an uneasy admission.
"I've...I've never-- I haven't--..." Ijichi winced, moving to lean back, mortified and humiliated. You saw his shame start to bubble over, and quickly slammed a lid on the pot. You did not let go of his collar, and did not let him lean back. Instead, you whispered against his lips, enough to make a whimper leave his lips and a drop of pre-cum leave his cock.
"Let's fix that then, shall we?"
Standing, full of divine purpose, you pulled Ijichi to his feet, nuzzling up into his ear until he shivered, his hands ghosting over your hips again.
"My room-- please--" he pressed, smiling into your neck as you laughed, being pushed gently backwards towards his bedroom. Stumbling together into his bedroom, giggling, stealing kisses, and necking like teenagers, you felt yourself thrown back into some sweet young love that you always wanted to have, but never received.
You fell back onto his bed with a bounce and Ijichi stood nervously before you, wanting to follow his instinct to crawl on top of you and bracket you under his arms, but crippled by his lack of confidence. You raised your foot, slipping your toes under his t-shirt and tickling his belly. Ijichi smiled, buckling and grabbing your foot, crawling over you with lovesick eyes. You made it all so easy.
"Ijichi..." you hummed, nosing at his neck, "...whatever your gut tells you to do, is probably right. I trust you. So please, show me what you want."
Ijichi felt shivers down his spine at your open invitation. His fingertips grazed down your plush inner arm, the little squidge of fat between your breast and armpit, the smooth untouched plane beneath your breast. Your eyes fluttered closed, delighted by his reverent touch. His hand gripped your shirt, and you almost felt tears prick in your eyes as he gently shielded your face to pull it off over your head.
Your bra had shifted with wandering hands, and your nipple peeked half-in-half-out, pressed by the edge of the cup. Ijichi ducked his mouth towards it, and you saw him hesitate again. You reached back, undoing your bra and removing it. Your eyes flicked down to his mouth, and back up to his eyes, dark and drunk.
"I'd like that," you whispered, and Ijichi breathed a shuddering gasp of relief before taking your nipple into his mouth, tasting you with open-mouthed sucks and laps. You heard his wet little grumbles of appreciation against your skin, when his hand came up to gently finger the softly yielding squidge of your other breast, Ijichi's fingers playing with your nipple with delighted exploration.
Ijichi was so overstimulated already, so touch-starved, and his cock so rigid, that he felt worryingly close to finishing-- so unable to control his own excitement at exploring someone's body so intimately for the first time. That the body belonged to you, the woman he had been falling in love with for years, was the final nail in the coffin, of him threatening to spill in his boxers.
You felt this in him, already prepared for him to want to curl up and die from embarrassment, if he didn't last. You were thrilled by his worship of you, having been treated as expendable more than once before. Teaching him would be a privilege and an honour. All the while, you failed to see how he taught you the bare basics of being respected and revered by a lover.
Ijichi was finely-tuned to subtle shifts in the atmosphere around him, and he learned quickly what you liked as he took your breasts into his hands and mouth. He felt the flickering of your hips up towards his when he licked you a certain way, and the hairs on his neck stood up to hear the breathy moans from your lips when he countered, pressing his twitching cock down against your clothed pussy.
Feeling a warning trickle of pre-cum, Ijichi pulled away from your breasts with a hiss, wrapped up in need and barely ashamed to hear himself beg you; "--please, I-- gosh, I'm sorry so sorry-- not going-- not going to make it--"
You kissed him again, soft and reassuring, as you finished unbuttoning his shirt. Ijichi moaned, long and shaking, as you draped his tie around your neck, the tails trailing over your wet-nippled breasts.
"God, you're lovely," he blurted out, blushing as you laughed, your head thrown back in genuine joy.
"Not nearly as lovely as you, beautiful man," you purred, ecstatic to see Ijichi's blush deepen when he moved to hide his face, his nose nuzzling in unbridled affection against your neck. Pushing his shirt off his slim shoulders, you raised your feet to hook around his trousers, looking at him with a playful glint.
Ijichi raised his eyebrows in question, and cried out to feel you push his trousers and boxers down, shivering as his cock bobbed out, red-tipped and wet with pre-cum. Ijichi quaked to feel the cool air hit his length, a drip of pre-cum dropping onto your belly.
You felt Ijichi tensed, brittle above you, and knew he risked spilling in your hand if you touched him. Still, you trailed your hand down his belly, nails grazing in the barely-there black hair, before slowly encircling his cock, hot and heavy in your hand.
Ijichi saw stars, his own hand the only one his skin had even known, and groaned into your neck, instinctively bucking into your grip; "--ooohhh, f--...gosh," he whined against you, coughing in alarm as you giggled again, your fingers tightening almost imperceptibly around his length. Your other hand pushed down Ijichi's borrowed sweatpants and your panties.
"...are you ready?" You asked Ijichi, smiling at his enthusiastic nod. You rolled the head of his cock between your folds, wet and warm, and Ijichi's arms almost buckled with the bliss and promise.
You guided Ijichi into you, squeaking as he bucked into you, bottoming out in one thrust. Ijichi snapped, cursing in a way that was so alien to the Ijichi you had always known. He gasped, one hand reaching down to sink into the side of your hip, relishing the way you jolted beneath him as he filled you with ragged thrusts.
Never had a man been so captivated by you. The feeling of Ijichi's inexperienced desperate rutting, was so vastly outweighed by the enthusiasm with which he treated your body. By the time you rolled your hips in time to meet his thrusts, pushing his cock deeply enough that you felt the first hot stirs of pleasure in your belly, Ijichi was crumbling around you.
"--please please please...please please please-- oohhhh fuck-- ooohhh fuck a condom, shi--"
Ijichi came with a strangled cry, so lost in his base instinct to cum inside you, that he couldn't help but let his seed spill into you, in ragged, disjointed bucks. You drank in the bliss on Ijichi's face...slowly seeing it morph into horror, and you were quick to reassure him, peppering kisses on his lips and cheeks.
"You're okay, it's okay...I'm on protection, shhh it's okay, I loved it, I loved it--"
"God I forgot all about you--"
"---you didn't, you did so well, and besides, we've got all night--"
"All ni...? Oh...oh. All night," Ijichi smiled, absolutely burning with adoration, as you burned for him. Your eyes flickered up to his head, and you pressed a hand over your mouth, eyes sparkling.
"...your glasses are still on your head, Ijichi."
"Ah! Oh...gosh."
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doitforbangchan · 3 months
Text
All Bark and No Bite
Chapter 1
It's here! This is the first chapter of my first real fic here on tumblr! I am not the best writer so please be kind :')
Series masterlist
Alternate Universe SKZ!
Chan x reader (y/n) x ot8
Previous - Next
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Summary: There's no turning back now, not when you know what you left behind. A dangerous situation now replaced with another. After the omegas disappeared you have to extra careful, especially now that you have left your pack and family.  What happens when your car breaks down on another pack's land?
Series Warnings: Fem reader, Smut, verryyyy nsfw, chan x reader, OT8 x reader, A/B/O, m/m/f smut, possessive! SKZ, possessive! Reader, anxiety and depression, fluff, angst, virgin!reader, cursing, violence, pet names, dom/sub dynamics, Sub reader x mostly dom SKZ, misogyny and sexism, Ateez are depicted as terrible people (sorry Atiny!) 
Chapter warnings: Angst, anxiety, reader is VERY sad, minor violence, cursing, A/B/O (pls let me know if I missed any!)
MDNI 18+
Wc: 2400 ish
Disclaimer: The names and faces used here are just that, names and faces, and in no way reflect the real people the characters were designed after. The views and actions of these characters do not reflect the real Stray Kids in any way shape or form. This is all for fun let’s keep it that way please. 
You should have known better. All those hushed conversations your parents have been having, all the phone calls your father excused himself to take, even the trip to your packs doctor for a very extensive physical. None of it set off your mental alarm bells and that made you feel so stupid. But how could you have known that your own parents, the people who raised you and were supposed to have your best interest at heart, were planning on selling you off to the highest bidder once you became mature enough. 
That's life for omegas these days, though. After a worldwide virus a few decades ago, omegas just stopped being born. The virus wiped the gene out almost completely, leaving a very small percentage of omegas left. Unluckily for you, you happened to be the only omega born in your area in the last 40 years. That made you highly sought after by alphas, especially dangerous ones. 
Your hands were still shaking. It had been hours since you escaped your parents house in your car, yet you couldn't get your hands to stop shaking with the immense adrenaline you’re feeling. You had no plan, no money, nowhere to go and no one to help you. Your only friend, Ash, was a beta girl in your pack and as much as you liked her you knew she could do nothing to save you now. At least your car had a full tank of gas, the only good thing your father had done for you was allow you to drive to Ash's house on occasion.
All the adrenaline was starting to wear off as you drove, the realization of what this would mean for you and your life now starting to sink in. The constant looking over your shoulder, the uneasiness you will always feel, it was almost too much to handle. No. What would have been too much to handle is letting that filthy man get his hands on you. Kim Hongjoong.You had heard about the things that alpha had done to claim power over his pack. From sabotage to murder, none of it was good. From what you could gather he was on the search for an omega to complete his pack and somehow had heard whispers about you. The only known omega within a few hundred miles. He wanted an omega to raise his children and help him lead his pack and would do anything to get his hands on one; whatever necessary. 
You imagine the sum of money he offered your parents was just too good for them to pass up on. Your alpha father was too proud to accept anything less than a hefty amount. Your mother was an omega through and through. Obedient and submissive to her alpha. Just as she raised you to be. She herself was a rare omega. Though back in her day the omega population wasn't as low as it is now. Now the numbers have fallen to less than 0.2%. Your mother molded you into the perfect little doll. Almost. Never in your wildest dreams did she or your father imagine you, their doll, would be disobeying and running from all you had ever known, yet here you are. That's what real fear does to a person. Fight or flight. All your life you had been all bark and no bite. Now this is your way of biting back.
All you had to your name was this old car (technically your fathers), an old backpack with a few changes of clothes, and couple cans of spaghetti o’s. Luckily this car had an old map in the glovebox. Better than nothing especially since you had no gps and no phone. You knew better than to take the main roads. Your pack would undoubtedly be looking for you and the car. Back roads it was then.
You couldn't tell exactly how many hours you had been driving at this point, too caught up in your mind to really pay attention to the time but by now it had gotten very dark and you found yourself on this old road going through a small town in the woods. You vaguely remember passing through the small community about half an hour ago. Of course you hadn't stopped in the town in fear of being noticed or recognised somehow. But now you’re wishing you had stopped at that little gas station and at least tried to get an ounce of gas with the spare change left in the middle console. The car was officially running out of gas. In the middle of nowhere. Just your luck. 
 “Are you serious?” You asked no one with tears starting to fill your eyes.
Feeling the difference in the vehicle causes you to pull off to the side of the road with a groan. You know it won't be going any further with the way it just gives up there on the side. Turning off the car and leaning your head against the wheel you let out a light sob. This wasn't the life you had envisioned for yourself. Once upon a time you thought one day you would meet your true mate, a caring alpha who would love you for you and want to make you happy. Seems as though that was just a fairytale after all. Even your parents weren’t true mates. They just settled for each other. You knew you couldn’t let that be you. You wouldn’t settle, especially not for a vile man you didn't love. 
It was too late now to leave the car. This is where you will be staying for the night. Good thing it was late spring and not winter or you would freeze out here. Once your tears have slowed and the sobs have ceased you took a deep breath to calm yourself.
“You will be ok.” You repeat to yourself a few times. “You will be ok. You will be ok.” 
Will you though? It didn't matter. You had to be. With one last sigh you locked the doors and climbed into the backseat of the old car. Its seats were worn and uncomfortable but it somehow felt comforting. It felt like the last remaining bit you had from childhood. When things were simple for you. Were things ever that simple as you remembered it being though? Before presenting as an omega when you were 16 things were definitely simple. You had assumed along with everyone else that you would be a beta and go on to have a normal life. Sure sometimes you were a little agreeable and always had a gentle nature, but you had just thought you took after your mom in that aspect. Little did you know you would take after her in a different way. It wasn’t until you presented that it made sense to the pack why you were that way. It was then that the looks began from other pack members. The way their eyes would linger on you a little too hard. The way their nostrils would flare when you entered a room. It made your skin crawl thinking back.
From that point on there was no more public school for you. You were homeschooled the last few years of high school for your protection. “We're doing this to protect you not punish you, Y/N.” your father had said when he forbade you from going back to school. “You can't trust anyone these days. Not around an omega.” He was right. The thought never crossed your mind that you couldn't even trust your own parents. You wished you had been born a beta like your sister, or even an alpha like your brother. Being the youngest out of three you figured you would be like them. 
The worst part was you didn't have the suppressants you had been taking since you were a teen. They were almost impossible to come by normally, but your father had somehow gotten his hands on a steady supply and had been forcing you to take them. Another thing that was for your protection. To keep alphas from detecting you by scent. You hadn't taken any this morning before you left so you imagine your scent was going to start leaking out for any one nearby to smell. Great. Another problem for tomorrow.
Adjusting yourself on the seat to lay down as much as you could, you closed your eyes and focused on your breathing. It wouldn't be long before sleep overcame you. The exhaustion of the whole ordeal catching up with you. 
__________________________________________________________
The sun peaking through the trees awoke you from your surprisingly restful slumber. It seemed to be early morning if the dew on the windows was any indication. Peeking out the window you saw nothing around. Not even any animals. Perfect. You slowly unlocked the door and crept out quietly shutting the door behind you. Taking careful steps a few yards into the thickets ahead of you and relieving yourself helped you feel a little better. You made your way back to the car and took a second to breathe. In and out. In and out. The air was crisp and refreshing and helped you clear your head. 
Now feeling a little better you noticed how bad your stomach was growling at you. Reaching into the trunk of the car you pulled out a small can of spaghetti o’s. Not your first choice of a meal but when you panic you grab what you figure will be easiest to take with you. Plus you could use a can as a weapon if needed! 
Eating was the last thing on your mind yesterday, but now you knew you could no longer put it off. Popping a can open and taking a seat on the hood of the car with a spoon you dug into the food. It was….. food . Cold and disappointing but at the same time satisfying as you had an empty stomach. 
There you were, sitting there on the old car contemplating your next move from here with now a half full can of disappointment, when you catch a scent in the air getting stronger with each passing second. It was another person, no it was people. More than one. 
Fuck
You have been found. Whether by the packs that were after you or by a stranger it didn’t matter all you felt was terror. 
There was no time to flee. Before you could even move from the hood you could feel a pair of eyes on you to the right of you. You twist your head to face the eyes that are peaking out at you from the trees ahead. 
The stranger takes a tentative step towards you and comes out from hiding and you immediately go into fight or flight. 
     With an alarmed shout “NO”, you launched the half full can of spaghetti o’s at the intruder, hitting him square in the chest and sending the cold contents all across his shirt. 
“What the fuck?!” the possible assailant yelled. 
Spotting another figure approaching the first one you threw yourself back off the hood and onto the ground, then as quickly as possible you yanked the door open to the car and jammed yourself in locking it immediately. You made yourself as small as possible as to not be seen by them but you knew the damage had been done. There was no way out of this. No gas in the tank and even if there was you had no idea where your keys had gone.  
You could hear them talking but you were too frightened to pick up any of the words except girl, mess and Alpha. Now you really felt terror. Without realizing how close they had been to you, you let out a shriek when there was a sudden knock on the window next to you. 
Not daring to look at them for even a second you yelled through the glass “Please go away! Please please I don’t deserve this!” tears filled your eyes. 
__________________________________________________________
The smell of your distress was making Seungmins and Jeongins eyes water. They had never experienced such a powerful scent before. Not even the odor from the Spaghetti Os covering Seungmins shirt would distract from the one coming from within the vehicle. The beta wanted to be mad that she had pretty much assaulted him, but at the same time couldn’t find it within himself to care much given how much pure terror he smelled coming from the young woman. The omega.  
The young alpha Jeongin felt similarly now that he had eyes on her he felt this overwhelming urge to protect. He had never encountered one before and honestly thought he never would but now that he was laying eyes on her he felt his alpha side perk up. A part of him never wanted to stop looking at her.
Honestly the boys didn’t know what to expect when they came out here to investigate the scent that had appeared on their land late into the night. They truly didn’t expect the cause to be an omega girl that was holed up on the side of a path. 
Seungmin tried knocking again, a little more timid this time so as not to frighten her more. “Excuse me, we could smell your distress. Do you need any help?” He asked slowly. 
You spared him one quick glance then shrunk into yourself again. “No thank you, please go!” 
He sighed and stepped back a few feet to look at Jeongin in amazement at the situation.  Giving him one small nod he said “ We need to call Chan.” 
__________________________________________________________
What felt like hours, but was probably only a few minutes, passed and you stayed in your same position. The boys had remained there but not so close to the car anymore to which you were thankful. They were quietly mumbling amongst themselves, no doubt about an omega being caught out here alone. Every so often you would move your head just slightly to peer over at them. You hadn’t noticed before in your initial panic but they were pretty cute young men. A beta and an alpha from what you could tell. Even covered in your thrown breakfast (a shame about that really) they still managed to carry themselves proudly. Though your smell is causing their faces to scrunch up, you could tell it was taking it's toll on them.
Not even a moment later after taking another look at them you could feel the change in the air as another pair of people was approaching. Not just anybody was coming this way, it was an Alpha. A very strong one at that. The smell was starting to permeate all of your senses and was quickly becoming intoxicating. 
You could sense him before he even appeared. No matter how intrigued you may be though you can’t show weakness.
 ‘Keep your head down and wait it out’ you kept telling yourself like a mantra.  
You knew he was approaching your door. It took everything in you to remain still. Then as if struck by lightning you felt your body alight like it never has before. 
“Omega..” 
(A/N: Please do not steal my writing and content! Reblogs and comments are encouraged tho 😙once again i would LOVE to hear your thoughts and theories! This has not been beta read all mistakes are my own.)
©doitforbangchan 
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@ihrtlix @realrintaro @meowmeeps
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usedpidemo · 2 months
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More than you know (Nmixx Haewon)
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“Miss Haewon, please see me after class hours later. I would like to talk to you.”
There it is. A rather predictable bookend to another dull lecture. She saw it coming from the moment she walked into the classroom. 
She absolutely loathes hearing it. 
Despite the comically indignant scowl she shoots you on the way out—and the mocking jeers from her friends that elicit embarrassment—by the time the final bell rings, she couldn’t wait to see you later on.
You’re excited, too—but for all the wrong reasons. 
She’s the only thing keeping your passion for teaching alive.
—————
For the record, Haewon is not a bad student, not in the slightest. If anything, she’s par for the course. She’s not gonna be some summa cum laude, but she isn’t a sorry case, either. And that’s been the pattern with your students for years. They only care enough just to get by. Haewon is the most clear-cut example you can refer to.
Based on the rather intriguing stares she shoots at you, you’d be tricked into believing she’s actually interested enough in improving her future performance in class. Peeking through the laptop, catching glimpses of everyone’s grades. Her name is highlighted on the document, and the scores consist primarily of mid-eighties with some low-nineties. Clearly she’s nowhere close to a flunk or a future dropout. 
Better than the high seventies and low eighties that the rest of your class averages.
“Sir, how many times do we need to go over this. I’m doing well for myself,” she remarks, giving you a look that says I told you so. The evidence is right in front of you, written in bold. “C’mon sir. Just let me go early today.”
And that’s when you make your first of many mistakes—feeding her the attention she craves. Where’s this energy when it comes to your lectures, you wonder?
Before you even entertain the thought, the scene has already gone completely sideways. Here’s a student with zero regard for following rules, and you’ve experienced your fair share of troublemakers. She’s sitting on the desk, pale skin in plain view from the off shoulder cropped sweatshirt that barely qualifies for the dress code. You’re looking—and she’s keenly noticing. 
“Maybe another time, sir?” Haewon reads your mind like an open book. She’s purposely dressing improperly for two reasons: to piss off the higher-ups who hate her guts, and to make it easier for you to rip through her clothes. “I’ve got dance practice with the theater girls and I’m running late.”
“Well for one, you can drop the honorifics,” you reply, plainly, in a particularly weak effort to change the conversation. The attention you give her is short-lived; your focus returns to the unanswered emails and grades you need to fill. “Class hours are done for the day.”
It’s evidently not the response she wanted, because her arms are crossed and she’s pouting. You have to admit, she looks cute acting like that, revealing clothes be damned.
“Sir.” Haewon drawls out into a groan, bothered by the monotony of waiting when she has places to be. She won’t go as far as to knock your laptop down, but she’s considering it as a last resort. “You’re being a bitch right now.”
Anyone else in her position would get it—a verbal lashing that would get your teaching license rescinded and take you to court, but Haewon is the epitome of getting away with murder. You have no idea how she does it—how she manages to escape mostly unscathed from punishment. Even now while you drum on the keyboard, because you’re allowing her to call you a bitch without consequence. 
Maybe because you like her more than you would openly admit.
She sighs. It’s a defeatist tone. A few moments later, you close your laptop and she perks up.
“Take a seat. I do want to talk to you about something important,” you tell her, knowing one hundred percent certain she’s not getting off your desk. 
Haewon can’t help herself to a snarky comment. “Damn. Finally.”
By every conceivable account, this should be awkward, if not outright wrong. She’s still an undergrad, you tell yourself, staring into her sharp, alluring eyes. For as rebellious and as unruly as Haewon acts, she still listens to you. Hell, you’re the only professor she bothers to attend classes regularly for. She’d tell you she cares in her own twisted way. Look at how she dresses, for one. Your thoughts consist of mainly her in some cumbersome position, her lips letting out these desperate, heavy gasps. Your hands squeezing her taut breasts; the way her shirt accentuates the curves of her chest drives your imagination wild. You can spend all day planning how you intend to fuck her—
“Sir, you’re staring again.” A snap back to the present, where she’s grinning and leaning close to your face. So pretty. “I get it—I’m hot, but we’re on borrowed time, sir.”
“Right. I honestly forgot what I was gonna tell you,” you mindlessly drawl, searching through your desk for something. Something to temporarily distract you from the inevitability of the end. The rest of your paperwork lies unattended in the faculty room, you remember, but you’re not gonna step foot inside that place—not when the other professors are still around. Time is money. “But it’s definitely not your grades, that’s for certain.”
“What’s it about, then?” Her eyes continue to follow your every move. 
You place a folded sheet of paper between you. She grabs it and reads through the brief content. The response is concerning. 
“You’re leaving?” Haewon turns to you, stunned and gobsmacked. A rare expression coming from someone who’s usually indifferent toward everything and everyone.
Genuinely, you have no idea how to explain yourself. You had this all planned out since the beginning of the year; these two semesters will be your last, you were completely certain. You could have told anyone in the faculty. They’re decent people—as decent as they can be during the few times you actually interact with them—but they were merely coworkers and nothing more. You could have told your wife, who just so happens to be a fellow professor and colleague, but she’s one of the reasons why you’re leaving in the first place. 
Word spreads like wildfire around campus, so you know to be careful, but this is straight recklessness. You call it mutual trust.
“Been thinking about it for a while,” you say, rather quietly, trying your hardest not to look her way. 
“Let me guess,” she says, breaking the pretense of sympathy and concern for her usual caustic tone. “No one cares about your shitty class?”
You’re not remotely bothered by her comment, even if she’s speaking the truth. Though she could have used a nicer word besides shitty. “Part of it, yeah.”
“I seriously don’t understand why there’s gotta be a religious unit for a business degree,” she adds, fascinated by her own question. Even more so than listening to your lectures. “I don’t get it.”
“I don’t get it either.” Truthfully, you seriously question why you’re even teaching here to begin with.
You’re employed by one of the top universities in the country; every parent would sacrifice everything just for their children to study here. It pays well by teaching standards, but the bar is in hell. Despite the prestige, the overall experience is no different than your time in public high school. Most of the students who do attend come from rich backgrounds; people who use the place as a dick measuring contest to see who is the richer person. These entitled scholars who are always on their phone—one of their many phones—and cheat to get ahead.
It happens so often on the regular that you eventually stopped caring.
“Hmm,” Haewon thinks to herself, running through every piece of information she has to weaponize against you. She knows you better than anyone, mainly because you share personal life details like they’re the daily newspaper. Not to mention the very reason she comes to the classroom in the afternoons: you.
Then she comes to a rather off the wall conclusion. “It’s Miss Myoui, isn’t it?”
You squint your eyes. Haewon glints up. A small opening. 
After a brief pause, she piles on, smirking. “Did I touch a nerve? Poor you,” she says, shooting you a mocking pout that you mostly ignore. “I guess you haven’t had some good pussy in a while. I mean, there’s no reason for me to be here other than the fact that Miss Myoui isn’t letting you clap her ass. Maybe the rumors are true then—”
Before she continues to spill more information that anyone shouldn’t be allowed to know, you fire back with a sharp glare. She cheekily grins. By ignoring the flashing red light right in front of you, you’re purposefully walking towards your own downfall.  It’s a trap; you know this. You know Haewon more than any other student. All her little tricks, all her crafty schemes. 
God, you can already see how this is gonna end.
“So I’m right?” Haewon tilts her head, leaning slightly forward. Her smug expression, word choice, and mocking tone tests your patience—including your blood levels—and you’re failing by the minute. “Trouble at home?”
Your response? Nothing. Going word for word with her ultimately results in a losing effort; previous conversations with her leave you more tongue tied and in a rut by the end. Haewon is so natural at getting under people’s skin. It’s what she gets off on—wrapping professors and superiors around her finger with her mouth. And more often than not, she’s charismatic and charming enough that it’s entertaining, but no one wants to openly admit it except you.
It’s how she’s able to read you like an open book. Let personal information slip so seamlessly. The numerous discussions regarding her underperformance in class lead into intimate sessions where you and Haewon become more acquainted with each other. A little too comfortable at times, but you can see where and why she acts the way she does. And you had come to the conclusion that you can’t fix her. Many have tried—and failed. She does whatever she wants, and she’ll end up getting away with it.
You slide your laptop aside, ready to dance with the devil, going against everything you swore against. “Mmm—not quite, but you’re halfway there.”
Haewon smiles and her eyes flutter. Not in a patronizing, condescending way, but the sweet kind. Genuine. The soft side she’ll only let you see. “Miss Myoui not letting you clap, sir?”
“She does,” you say, dour. And I already told you class hours are done. Please don’t call me sir.”
“Right. Sir.” Haewon’s playful tone trails off with that loathsome word. She can’t help but smirk; it’s second nature to her. She’ll claim that you fell for that bait, but that was deliberate, you’ll say—even if she refuses to believe you.  
After a brief impasse, “So—sir,” she follows, using her eyebrows and cadence to tease, her hands on the edge of her pants, teasing some underwear, “You need to fuck me again? Now? Is Miss Myoui not letting you have some lately?”
Turning your gaze away and to the desk, “About Mina,” you reply, drumming your fingers on the table, deep in thought, “I’m planning to divorce her soon.”
“Huh?” Her eyes shoot wide, her expression rather surprised at the sudden revelation. You’d think by how she teases you about your wife, she’d have a much more subdued reaction. Considering she knows facets of your rather strange relationship with Mina. “Well, I would tell you’d be fumbling big time, but you should know—”
“She’s cheating on me. I know.” 
Now she’s genuinely shocked, completely caught unaware. She’d assume you to be particularly naive and clueless about campus rumblings, especially since she’d never see you outside of the classroom and in the faculty room. “Well damn. I honestly thought you didn’t know.”
“Can’t say it would be the first time I’ve heard about it,” you say, turning to face her again, cold and gloomy. Pointing your finger at her, “And before you say anything, no, I didn’t catch her getting eaten out in the faculty room.” 
You say that with the utmost sincerity—and sarcasm.
Haewon hesitates, before answering, rather  “I figured.” She understands that your poor eyes have seen some things you shouldn’t be seeing.
Truthfully, you’re amazed she hasn’t brought up the subject a lot earlier. Since the end of the previous academic year, you’ve noticed Mina’s sudden changes in behavior. She’s sending more text messages telling you she’ll arrive home later than usual, the frequent faculty outings she chooses to attend, the cancellation of plans scheduled months in advance—the biggest of which, a dinner date at a particularly expensive five-star restaurant on the other side of town that has a notorious 18 month waitlist that you miraculously booked for your anniversary. And that was five months ago.
People change, but Mina is an entirely different person to you now. You can hardly recognize her.
“I guess I should say I’m sorry for what happened,” Haewon says, pretty modest and empathetic in tone, but even during serious moments, she can’t help but remark, “But you were kind of loser material for a woman like her.”
You can only stare back, annoyed. She chuckles, heartily. Seeing your animated, cartoonish expressions only serves to amuse her even further and fuel her addiction of teasing you. 
“Ah, I fucking love you, sir. You’re my favorite professor for this reason.” In an instant, the somber facade falls apart and she’s back to being her usual coy self.
“Among other things?” you question.
“Such as?” Haewon looks confused. It’s a bluff; you’re calling it now. “Such as what, sir?”
Placing a hand on her knee, you’re creating friction so intense that her mouth goes agape and her breaths grow heavier. “Such as the fact that no one eats you out better than I do,” you reply, inflection transitioning from formal to low.
“Oh?” She doesn’t believe what’s happening to you. “Sir,” her cadence dances in such a melodic and sultry way it’s gonna ruin you faster than anything she’s done so far. “You have no evidence to prove—”
Suddenly, Haewon goes tongue tied, unable to finish her sentence. That’s a first. And you didn’t need to lift a finger or use your voice. Your other hand finds solace around her toned waist, exploring her tummy, and it’s thankfully not restricted by any layer of clothing. So much pristine skin to claim as yours, you begin to lose your restraint—and there isn’t much left to begin with.
“I can take you to the faculty room and show you,” you mumble against her belly, the cold breath tickling her flesh that she trembles. Haewon’s senses float off, her vision growing dark as her hands impulsively latch onto your shoulders. In return, you peck her navel, her abs, until you reach her abdomen, a hair’s breadth away from her chest. Between kisses, you continue to feed into her want, “Or I can give you an example right now.”
“Please,” Haewon finds enough clarity to cup your face up and meet her in a lengthy passionate liplock. This is what she wanted from the start. “Indulge me, sir.”
The only thing keeping you two apart is the laptop dangling on the opposite side of the table, almost pushed aside while you were making out. You quickly place it on a random desk before closing the two classroom door curtains.
When you return to Haewon, she’s sitting atop your desk, playfully swinging her legs, smiling modestly. It’s only now that you recognize how pretty she looks. But behind that meek appearance is a demon, a temptress that only sees you as a conduit for pleasure. In her eyes, the only purpose you have to give is sex, and nothing more. 
So push your chair forward when you sit down. Haewon’s legs are already spread wide, but the pants remain on them. She doesn’t like to do it herself. 
“Won’t give me a cheating discount?” you say, looking up at her coy grin, placing your hands around the hem of her trousers.
“Technically—” she trails off, kissing you, “You’re cheating on her with me, sir.” Followed by another. Each one deeper, more intimate than the last. “Don’t act all innocent now, especially when we’ve been doing this for months.”
Then, Haewon consumes you—as in, devours you. Grabs you and makes out with you with a passion you wish she’d present during class hours. You’d be content to remain in this position for the rest of the day, even if the clothes never come off; he’s so passionate and fervent that it’s intoxicating. But it’s all planned. Elaborate. You’re familiar with her more than you ever want to be: how she loves to unbutton your shirt while kissing you, how she mumbles and hums softly against your mouth, how she whispers desires that end up becoming realized after the foreplay. In reality, she’s the one dictating the pace, the one calling all the shots, and you’re merely an instrument she uses to indulge herself.
And she wants it: everywhere, in every position—something you find too much to handle, and she’s already quite the handful. But it’s merely a delay of the inevitable; you’re going to fuck Haewon, you’re gonna pour all your cum inside her, and you can figure out the rest the morning after.
More often than not, your shirt ends up unbuttoned, but not completely undone. One of two layers keeping your impulsive desires in check. As you work Haewon’s pants down her legs, most of your lesser instincts are shown in full display. It takes almost tearing your own fingers off your very hands not to rip through her panties. Meanwhile, she’s lounging on the desk, enjoying the sight of you reverting back to something primal. 
The way you fondle her creamy thighs, never finding their beginning and end, is like beholding a sculpture crafted by the gods. They’re meant to be worshiped, to be handled reverently.
And Haewon guides you through the process, commanding you like she has authority over you. Titles do not matter—they never have. “Keep going,” she says, as you leave delicate kiss marks down her thighs, slowly burying yourself into the inviting presence of her pussy. Peeking through the near-nonexistent layer of fabric, she shifts the lift of her legs, perching on your shoulders as she forces you into her suffocating warmth. 
“Show me,” she gasps, brushing your hair with her hand, and that’s what sets the rest into motion.
Her legs clutch you into a breathless hold. God, she’s killing you slowly, and you don’t mind it one bit. At this point, you have nothing to lose. You might as well treat this as your last supper, your final meal before you have to say goodbye. She can strangle you with her thighs while you drag your tongue up and down her folds, suck on her clit, take in all her nectar—it doesn’t change the fact that Haewon is gonna fucking end you. 
You might as well repay the favor.
And despite throwing caution to the wind, Haewon appears unprepared. Dazed and confused by the overwhelming sensation burning through her nerves, she trembles—and moans. She couldn’t be any less subtle if she tried; hearing her hit notes you never thought she’s capable of hitting only serves to be a minor distraction from her pulsating heat. You’re relentless, slowly picking away at her senses, at her sensitive cunt, knowing that no one can eat her out as well as you do.
“S-sir.” Haewon can only muster up a single word before her mouth fills the room with nothing but air. 
Deep down, you despise the rather obstructive yet comfortable position you’re in. Your tongue brushes against Haewon’s folds, going back and forth to taste of her warmth and her clit. The rest of her frame lays atop the desk, trembling, unable to keep herself steady under your grip. She’s lost you somewhere in between, clinging onto the edges of the table for support. You can only imagine her jaw agape, her expressions twisting in pleasure, wriggling and tossing her head around as she aimlessly tries to find some semblance of control.
Her mouth is the only tool she can use to make some sense of this overwhelming bliss. And even that doesn’t amount to much. ‘Shit,’ ‘so good,’ ‘don’t stop—’ these are only some of the things she groans out as you trap her in a whirlpool of her own ecstasy. It’s still not enough. You want to prove her wrong; you want to remind her what’s important, and the only way you can make sure she truly understands if she fucking cums all over your face.
So while Haewon writhes and makes a damn mess of your desk, you continue to feast on her pretty cunt. She’s making sure every person in the building knows how good your tongue is, and it’s in character with how unabashedly shameless she behaves in front of everyone. Her legs kick sharply against your chair, so you end up where you were supposed to be from the beginning—on your knees. And yet it doesn’t deter you; if anything, you grow more attached to her pussy, savoring every taste and drop, taking piece of every little part of her as yours.
You can’t wait to explore the rest of her body and claim it as yours. On the off chance you’re able to rip her shirt off, your hands roam her tight, lithe figure. You’re met by layers of fabric, frustrated at the inability to grab her breasts in their natural form. She grabs you by the wrists; it’s a miracle she’s able to feel you through the waves crushing her to the desk. You suck on her clit hard. She lets out this guttural moan that sounds violent in nature, like you’re hurting her, when you’re actually doing the exact opposite. 
And it’s how you play off each other for the most part. Your need to get Haewon naked is only matched by her desperation to cum. She doesn’t need to tell you directly how much she wants to. Her hands guide you beneath her shirt, and you press on the underside of her boobs in appreciation. You’re playing a dangerous game; you have no intention of letting go. 
Surprisingly, Haewon holds up well. One look and it might appear that she’s a complete wreck: how her body trembles unceasingly, how she has half her shirt lifted to give you a better view of her chest for when you eventually come up for air, how helpless she is at even the slightest touch. You made her like this. It’s a habit she’s used to by now; she’s learned that a figure like hers is meant to be admired, to be used.
Before you grow comfortable with the habit, the idea that you can eat her out on the desk for hours, Haewon cums.
She keens and shudders through her surprise orgasm. It’s aligned with her playful nature to cum without your knowing, even though the signs were there all along. Your tongue works through the torrent of fluid, then the wave of slick that you drink up. Lap whatever your satiated bud allows. You can see remnants of her climax spill down the desk and to the floor, to her pants. 
Even now, you’re still learning something new about your students. For one, you never knew Haewon squirts.
The wet desk would make for a perfect reference picture for when she questions your legitimacy again—but you have better ways of explaining yourself.
You give Haewon no reprieve; she mewls and whimpers as you lick her folds clean, till you settle into soft, gentle kisses. The situation is all sorts of fucked; she has places to be and friends to meet, but you have her on top of your desk, keening after eating her out and making her cum without a care. It’s gonna take an essay's worth of explaining the glaringly wet patches on her clothes and deep red marks over her skin. 
Truthfully, she’d rather be with you than with her overbearing friends—but you won’t hear it directly from her lips.
Speaking of, you hear a phone ring. Haewon cranes her neck in the direction of her bag. “Sir, I need my phone.” She huffs, gasping for air, each word spaced out between deep breaths. 
Regretfully, it takes every bit of your resolve to release your tongue from her warm cunt. You rummage through her bag and hand the phone over to her. It’s about picking up the pieces now, salvaging whatever you can make of the mess you made, albeit there’s hardly anything to save, even yourself. 
“Don’t.” Haewon uses her loose toes to point at you, shifting herself into a sitting position on the desk. You’re halfway done with the first button on your shirt when she stops you. She’s tapping through her phone, texting some bullshit excuse to her friends. Knowing her, they’re most likely no better than her; they might be playing into your little secret, too. All it takes is one person, one word of mouth, before information spreads around like wildfire.
Like everything else about her, you had mostly left it up to interpretation. Forcing details out of Haewon is a near-impossible task. You were never really a good negotiator. The deal usually ends up like this: her panties for a bonus in her grades, her lips for a signed excuse letter, and if she was really in the mood, her pussy for a cheat sheet. Sometimes, 
She sets her phone aside on the desk, hopping off the table to lay her hands on your exposed chest. Momentarily kissing you, she whispers, “Sir, I told them I would be a little late today. You should know better by now.” 
Her fingers wring around the collar of your button up shirt, eyes ablaze with reinvigorated lust, lips curled  in a pleasant smile. You’re so enamored with her, it drives you crazy. Even when she pushes you onto your chair, even when she rips the already undone shirt off your body, all you can do is pay attention to the stars in her eyes. Her warm, wanton gaze—both charming and alluring in all the right ways. She knows how to use every part of herself to near perfection. 
The rest of your clothes couldn’t come off any faster. Your pants and boxers pool around your ankles, followed shortly by a dark cropped sweatshirt. You’re not given any time to savor the perfection that is Haewon’s naked figure; she’s straddled on your lap, stroking your hard cock with a delicate grip. She smirks, and she has every right to look smug. You’re left breathless, under pressure; if only you can see yourself in the mirror and see how needy you look, and the utter control Haewon has over you.
And you allow her; this is her specialty, this is what she’s built for—to fucking end you.
If your words allow you, you’d command her to get on her knees, suck your cock and take a warm load all over her face; this is the ideal position to make the move. But you can’t. Not when you’re missing the point. 
Haewon is on the edge of your lap, running her hand around your cock, gathering spurts of precum on her nails and finger pads. She’s still winded from before, slow in her movements. The naughty look she gives your body never grows old. 
“I hope you don’t mind if I ask you a question,” she starts, looking down at the little mess she’s making on your thigh. You’re too overwhelmed to breathe, let alone say a word.
“Be honest with me. I’m being serious for once.” 
And she sounds like she means it. You gulp your throat as you enter the unknown.
Her eyes flicker up to meet yours, her expression deep in thought, something she’s not usually seen doing. And you feel the heat gradually building on your lap, but you’re paralyzed by anxiety for the sensation to register. She runs the other hand through hair to take a good luck at you: your rather sweaty face, somewhere between pleasure and tense. 
“Tell me,” she sighs, running a hand down your shoulder to your elbow, before continuing, “Am I the best student you’ve ever fucked?”
“Yes.” The word comes out involuntarily, as if it were muscle memory. Like your body knows, and it knows itself better than anyone or anything else.
It draws a piqued reaction from Haewon. She raises an eyebrow, unconvinced. “And what about Yoona?”
“And what about her?” 
A reply you end up regretting almost immediately. Haewon doesn’t take bullshit for an answer, as evident by the cold, dour stare on her face. If there’s anyone who knows the ins and outs of university, it’s her. 
It doesn’t take long for you to cave in. “She’s so tight,” you admit, sounding like a guilty criminal being interrogated. “But you’re still the best, I swear.”
“And what about Yuna? That exchange student Lily? Miss Minatozaki? You say that to just about anyone.” 
In an instant, she goes from curious and passionate to downright frightening. It’s not supposed to be like this; normally it’s you who has the authority. Haewon can go on and on for hours if she wanted to. She has all the leverage, all the evidence, all the power to cause the end of everything, your life included. But she only wants one thing: the truth.
“They’re nothing compared to you. Promise. You’re still my favorite student.”
To a certain extent, you’re right; Haewon is your favorite, but for all for the wrong reasons. It has nothing to do with teaching her anything other than being a good toy, because deep down, she’s about as irredeemable as your peers make her out to be. Really, it’s about using her body, fucking her, pushing her to the absolute limits—anything to get your mind out of the numbing, monotonous work of being an actual professor. There are many good girls in class, including the names she mentions in passing, but this is a stark reminder that Haewon is yours, and you belong to Haewon.
“Then show me.”
And to drive the point even further, she sinks down on your lap, pressing her weight on your crotch—until her pussy meets your cock and you both disappear into the sea of pleasure again.
Haewon throws her head back, and she’s never looked more vulnerable, not even when you had her laid out on the desk. All this flesh and body to claim, and you have no clue where to begin. But that’s the least of your problems when she begins to glide up and down, rocking your lap with slow, agonizing thrusts. You end up blanking out and caring about the friction in your hips instead. 
The slip of your cock in and out of her pussy when she rides you. Your palms press against her waist while you watch her slowly come undone: the moans, curses, and every sound in between, the rapidly twisting expressions, the hypnotic jiggle of her chest. Soon, you find a steady rhythm to match, and everything becomes effortless. Both of you pushing and pulling against each other’s bodies in an effort to get deeper. You forget you’re a professor and her a student, only two souls in need of sex during some trying times in your lives.
In a way, you’re both meant to be. Fate is a strange entity.
Then Haewon regains some clarity, enough to be kissing you, moaning directly in your ear, demanding your gaze. Even when her hole swallows your cock, she still wants your attention. And even while you have it so deep in her cunt that she’s mewling, struggling for oxygen, she manages to form a coherent sentence.
“Tell me I’m the tightest. Tell me I have the best pussy you ever fucked.” 
God, she’s so fucking tight you can’t fully comprehend it. Perhaps even more, and you’re used to using her. Maybe it’s all that pent-up frustration toward your dead end job, toward Mina, that makes her clench tighter. That’s now how pussy works; you’re just stretching her out really hard, but you have nothing sensible to conclude with. What you can tell, however, is that you needed this—and you needed it badly. 
You’re thankful you closed off the doors and curtains to the classroom, because the last thing anyone needs to see and hear is the sight of Haewon riding you while you both moan about how good the other feels. 
“Love this pussy,” you murmur, breathing against her collarbone, wanting a taste of her taut nipple. She has you in a tight bearhug that binds your hands around her waist. “Fuck—so—fucking—tight—the best—”
And that’s all she needed to hear. Every word—every sound—slips from her lips like it hurts, but she’s in total bliss. She moves her hips against the roll of your cock with deep emphasis, like fitting puzzle pieces together, and it sends you. You’re left even more breathless, more in awe at how fucking well Haewon takes your length. As if it was always meant for her. 
Curses and praise aside, she’s never one to talk during sex. But then she makes the faintest comment about how your cock fits so snug inside her, and you honestly just lose it.
Once in a while, a certain inquiry is brought up. What’s your favorite thing about me, Haewon asks, when it’s supposed to be the opposite. You’re supposed to give out this very question to your students as a way to improve your teaching style and maybe come off as an approachable authority figure. As expected, it wasn’t helpful in the slightest. She then would suddenly come to you at the most random of times with this particular question, and you’d be preoccupied with numerous things—home life, school activities, the usual—to find an answer. 
But right there, right as you spear deep into her tight, needy cunt, is where you figure it all out. It’s all in the little details. Your hand going up and down her arched back. The squelching of her pussy against your cock. The furious sound of your flesh slapping against hers. Her loose, shrilly whines while you bury your face between her chest, begging you harder. Her hands tangled with your hair and nape. All that while she’s bouncing on your lap at such a feverish pace; she’s going to break the chair you’re sitting on.
Before you know it, your tongue has traveled all over the most sensitive parts of her body: nipples, neck, and even pits. 
Everything about Haewon is so ridiculous, you can’t believe how much of a challenge she has been for the longest time that you’ve forgotten how easily she folds. Like she’s meant to be used.
But no punishment is suitable enough; no amount of discipline can change her. If anything, it only fuels her goal to thread the needle even further.
“Gonna fucking cum, Haewon,” you hiss against her ear, blurring the line between kissing and biting her collarbone. Using all the strength in your hips, you have her legs spread as wide as they can over the chair, over your thighs. The squirt she releases as she crashes on your lap serves to fan the flames in your cock even brighter. It’s all but inevitable that you’ll pour it all inside her, and she wouldn’t want it any other way.
If you had any semblance of a spine, you’d never let her hear the end of it. The idea that her pussy isn’t getting its fair share of seed disgusts her. She needs to learn what boundaries are, and how not to cross said lines. At least there’s one lesson you can impart on her before you split, but you’ll save that for another day, because you cum.
You fuck Haewon so hard, she turns into mush that melts in your grasp. Forget the guttural groan you made; the aftermath is alarming. Her pussy drips with a huge load pooling on the chair and trickling down her thighs. You make sure you bury yourself to the hilt and unload inside her. The evidence is undeniable; from the smell to the sight of clothes and cum, there’s no concealing it—if there was even anything to hide, because your salacious activity could easily be heard anywhere in the building. 
And lost in the madness is your train of thought; your body is reeling from the aftershocks of your orgasm, and you simply idle. Let your cock stay in Haewon’s warmth as long as possible. Let the setting sun bathe her pretty face in that lovely afterglow. Let her slowly recover and realize that you’ve been right all along about everything.
“Sir, you came inside me a lot,” she says, a little over a whisper, trying to take record of your work. Her eyes stay glued to the puddle of cum dripping down her leg, running a finger to taste you. 
“For my favorite student, why wouldn’t I,” you tell her, caressing your hand up and down her back. Even through the climax, you never stopped. 
The brief, peaceful respite is interrupted by, you guessed it, another phone. This time, it’s not Haewon’s. She moves gingerly bending down, almost tumbling over in an attempt to retrieve your phone from the depths of your pocket. Your only contribution is ensuring she doesn’t bash her head on the floor. 
“Well, well, well,” she comments, looking at your phone with a familiar, sarcastic tone before handing it over to you. “Speak of the devil.”
On the screen are two missed calls and one new text, all from none other than Mina herself. A grim reminder of the reality you live in.
The message is as predictable as it reads. She won’t be home till late in the evening, which might as well be dawn of the next day.
“Miss Myoui is getting it. A hundred percent sure.” 
She delivers it with such conviction that it might as well be fact. You’d be upset about the very thought—anyone would—but a glance at Haewon gives you an idea. One that leaves her curious.
“Sir? Why are you looking at me like that?”
You can already imagine it: the image of railing Haewon everywhere. On the table, against the wall, under the showers. Maybe if you’re lucky enough, Mina will go through that door and be greeted by the sight of her least favorite student getting fucked by her husband from behind.
You show her the text, and just like that, you’re both one and the same. A look of pride crosses her face, as if she’s accomplished an important milestone—and it’s quite a momentous one.
And what better way to celebrate than inside the comfort of your home.
—————
(A/N: Been down bad for Haewon since December. Also, NMIXX is actually good now! Their latest EP has some bangers, highly recommend Run for Roses and Passionfruit. The setting might be a bit more on the bleaker/less wholesome side, but I hope it's not uncomfortable/upsetting. Thank you for reading!)
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thefunkfactory · 1 month
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Jake’s Butt Blasts
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You knew it was a bad idea going to his house for the project, the dumb jock you were partnered up with invited you to his place to work on your guys Economics project. As you walked up to his dorm you could hear him on the phone talking to someone about the “scrawny nerd he had to be paired up with”, you didn’t even care that he was complaining about you because you had been constantly complaining about being paired up with him to your friends. You knocked on the door and heard him say goodbye to the person on the phone and then the door swung open. “YO BRO WHATS UPPPPP?” he asked in a dull yet naturally loud voice. You wanted to roll your eyes knowing that you were probably going to have to do all the heavy lifting for the project, “Hey Jake uhhhh thanks for inviting me over I guess.”. You stepped into his dorm, he must’ve gotten lucky because it looks like he somehow scored a dorm all to himself! “Hey do you not have a roommate or anything?” you asked him, “Nah, I did but I guess they didn’t like staying with me. He said something about the smell being too strong, I guess he couldn’t handle the smell of a real man.” Jake shrugged. As he was saying that you began to notice the aforementioned “smell of a real man”, the room reeked of cum, unwashed clothes, and worst of all it was like a cloud of body odor constantly resided in the room. You didn’t wanna be too rude upfront so you bit your tongue and said nothing about it. Jake kicked some junk away on the floor to create a path for you to get to his desk without stepping into a sea of used clothes and beer cans. You set up shop on the desk trying to not touch anything given that half of the stuff in here is pretty much contaminated with Jake’s funk.
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As you begun to open up your laptop and get to work Jake jumps up onto his bed and lets out a loud fart PFFFFBBTTTTT, “Huhuhuh sorry bro had one too many Bud Lights I guess!”. You wave your hand in front of your face hoping to wave away Jake’s potent fart fumes that were filling the room, “Jake, can you maybe try and hold your stench in? At least while i'm here.”, “Oh yea totally man sorry about that! Its just so natural to spread my man stink ya know. Huhuhuh”. “Yea…whatever you say man. Do you mind if we break up the project and split up what each of us is doing?” You said hoping he would just go along with your idea and maybe do at least something. “Ehhhh I think it would just be easier for the both of us if you just do it. I'm probably just gonna keep making mistakes and ruin it bro.”, not wanting to put up a fight with a dude that could easily push you around, you just agreed and began silently working while he played CoD on his bed next to you.
After a few hours you were getting a bit restless and piped up to tell Jake, “Hey I’m gonna go take a quick walk outside and just relax for a bit, do you mind just finding the charts to put onto the slideshow?”. He guffawed and rolled his eyes, “Dude I think you should keep working and do that shit yourself.”. Not liking his attitude you retorted, “Jake I have been working for hours and I just need to get a break from what feels like the toxic stench hanging in this room! I'm going outside and getting some fresh air! I’ll be back in a bit.”, covering your nose with your shirt you stormed outside.
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While outside you paced around the outside of the building and felt a bit guilty for yelling at Jake. He is just a little bossy that's all, he probably didn’t deserve to get yelled at like that. You kept walking for a few more minutes and decided that it would probably be best if you apologized just a little for lashing out like that.
Walking back into the dorm room Jake was nowhere to be found, you told yourself he was probably just going to the bathroom or went on a walk too. As you walked back to the desk and sat down you could tell that Jake let out another fart while you were gone. You decided that since he wasn’t here you could put your headphones on and try to distract yourself from the lingering butt funk in the room. Working away for probably only about a few minutes you feel your headphones get ripped off of your head. Turning around you came almost face to face with Jake’s shirtless body, with his armpit on full display.
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“UGH JAKE! YOU REEK DUDE!” you shouted out, “Look man I'm sorry I snapped at you it wasn’t right, but you really shouldn’t make people smell your pits just because they ticked you off.”. “Dude you need a total reality check man. I’m gonna help you with that” Jake said completely ignoring what you just said. “What are you talking about man! Put your arm down! It really is starting to stinkkkk…” You said as your words began to drift off. “Huhuh! You’re gonna have a whole new viewpoint when I’m done with you!”
Jake jumps back up on the bed and commands you to come sniff his feet. “Fuck no Jake! This is getting weir-“, PFFFFFBBBBTTT, “Ahhhhhhh” Jake moans out, “Huhuhuh! That one really reeked! Now, come sniff my feet bro.” For whatever reason, as the fumes from Jake’s latest butt blast assault your nose, you realize you should do what Jake commands of you. Without saying a word you got up from the desk and got on your knees right in front of Jake's sockless rancid dogs. “Sniff” Jake ordered. As the foot funk shot up your nostrils and straight into your brain you could feel something shifting.
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You felt a light aching sensation spread across your body all at once, it felt as if you had a slight cramp in every part of your body, and all at once your entire body began to change. Your feet quickly turned from a size 9 into a size 14, and just like the feet in front of you, a strong fetid foot funk began to rise up from your massive behemoths. You felt Jake’s feet grow farther away from you as you began to grow taller. Your legs now grown into massive logs, muscular and hairy, propelled you to an admirable height at 6 '7. Topping off the tree trunk legs you now possess grew two massive stinking mounds of fat, perfect for releasing eye watering fumes into a nerd's face.
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A gut wrenching pain overtakes you as your stomach begins to twist and turn into an impeccable 6 pack so hard that it is capable of sharpening knives. Next up is your shoulders and arm, you feel like you have been carrying pounds of stone atop your shoulders, they stretch out becoming something that a real man can be proud of. As your shoulders stretch into place your arms begin to inflate causing them to look akin to rolling hills when you flex them. Your armpits fill in with foul-smelling hair that hasn’t been touched by deodorant or soap since middle school. You’ve always wanted to let your pheromones exist as a natural aphrodisiac to all the horny gay guys who have always drooled all over you. As the stench from your pits begins to add to the preexisting amalgamation of pure unadulterated bro-stink in the dorm room your face begins to transform. Your nose cracks and shortens, yet not altering your ability to huff Jake’s foot funk. Your eyebrows grow messy and your eyes lose their sparkle and become dull orbs. Your lips shrink becoming less plump and your mouth becomes cramped as it needs to fit your now massive tongue. And the last part of you that is about to undergo the jockification is your gorgeous hair purposefully and painstakingly styled everyday to look like an effortless fluffy mane. It quickly turns into a simple jock haircut which perfectly matches the simple jock you are about to be when you have finished transforming.
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Seeing that you have finished the physical jockification Jake giddily and rhetorically asks you “Are you ready to be just as dumb as you look hot stuff ?”, knowing full well that the cloud of stink sitting in your skull prevents you from saying anything back. “Huhuhuh, it’s gonna be so nice to have a roomie who loves man stink just as much as me.” Jake announces as he commences your mental transformation. PPFFFFFBBBBBTTTT. Jake releases another round of funk filled flatulence and watches as his new best friend inhales his fart. As the fart quickly rushes through your brain it turns anything it encounters into a broified memory. The years of studying history and social science turns into years of working up a stink with your best friend Jake. The hours it took to apply to this college and apply for loans turn into a full ride scholarship for your soccer prowess. All of your memories with your gal pals in highschool turn into memories of goofing around with your bros. All of your intelligence and memories are wiped out or transformed in the blink of an eye, leaving behind a dumb, horny nineteen year old who can only pass his classes due to the tutoring he receives from the nerdy boys who want a piece of you.
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Getting up from your knees and slowly regaining your bearings, you look around the room seeing all of your things scattered about the floor and the posters of half naked men all over your wall. “Huhuhuh Jake did you hot box the room with your farts againnnnn” you dumbly inquired, “Uhhh yea bro of course I did! Who else can let out such a potent blast from the ass! Buhuh” Jake couldn’t help but chuckle at his own stupid joke. “Well we gotta open a window cuz I have a date coming over and I don't need them thinking that we always smell so rank.” you responded. “Ummmm but bro like…we do always smell rank.”, “Well I just don't want to knock him out with your fumes okay dudeeeee!”. “Wait…him?” Jake asked, “Yea Jake, HIM. You’ve known that I've been gay since like high school! Duuuuhhhhh!”. “Damnit! The stink didn’t change that!” Jake groaned out, “What are you talking about dude?” You said as Jake make a concentrated expression and turned his back to you. “What was supposed to chang-“ PPPPFFFFBBBTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT!!! Jake let out the longest fart you have ever heard him let out, and once again Jake’s gas went straight to your brain reaching deep enough to turn the last pre-jockified bit of you, your gayness, into pure heterosexuality. Physically recoiling from the stink you felt your desire to conquer a twink turn into a desire to impregnate a dumb blonde. As the mental transformation was finally totally complete you watched as right before your eyes the posters of hunky men turned into posters of big boobed bimbos.
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“Huhuhuhuh bro I can't wait to spread my seed into the dumb bitch I met at the Frat Party the other day!” You said pawing at your crotch. That perfect butt of yours will now never be used for anything other than hotboxing a room with your gas or shitting out the smelliest dumps ever.
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nyyrami · 29 days
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WHEN THEY HAVE A NIGHTMARE . . . synopsis. sleep was meant to be a break from the terrors of the normal day world. but even sleep is not escape for your lover and nightmares plague the crevices of their mind…
tags. satoru gojo x reader, nanami kento x reader, toji fushiguro x reader. angst. hurt/comfort. nightmares. mentions of wounds and battles.death duh.
a/n. i love this trope sm i genuinely don’t know why lol. if you enjoyed a like or reblog would greatly be appreciated ty <3 dk why gojos one is so long, sorry I got carried away with it… this is not proofread so don’t come for me sfter spelling errors this was rotting in my drafts.
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GOJO SATORU was no stranger to nightmares. as much as he would like to say he was unaffected by his battles. he was human at the end of the day and like a human he would suffer trauma from it. it was only when he’d met you and he first slept in the same bed as you that the nightmares ceased. wrapped in your warm, soft arms. it was as if he were being protected by some unknown force and the horrid dreams were driven away. but they were never gone always and some days his mind would recollect what occurred during the day—or even what happened years ago…
‘‘—suguru, stop—wait.’’
satoru runs through the crowd pushing past mindless civilians. they all have the same look on their face. that they have somewhere to be, and that this pesky boy pushing them was dreadfully annoying. he wouldn’t have cared. only that suguru wore the same face as them. he doesn’t know why he ran after his criminal friend. maybe he wanted an answer? or a reason on why he would leave behind everything. leave him, Y/N, shoko. he couldn’t fathom a reason on why he would do such a heinous crime—
‘‘what satoru? what’s done is done, we can’t turn back time and change it. im done trying to.’’
the world fades to black like spilled ink on parchment, his dear friend with it but sugurus purple eyes remain. a stark light in the darkness he can only hope to hold on to. but like sand it slips through his fingers and away and he curses. at himself or suguru? he doesn’t know. only that he wishes he were so much stronger. he knows he will never be.
satoru is somewhere else again. this time a familiar alley. the sun is setting the distance casting a beautiful glow. satoru has grown. he is no longer the boy he was years ago. he’s a man now and he has a family. one he can call his own and cherish and love. but now looking at the person sitting infront of him, he doesn’t feel like a man.
suguru sits on the alley flaw, clutching his now lost arm. blood is everywhere. his robe is torn to shreds leaving his chest bare and exposed but satoru can care less about that now. now he’s focused on his dying friend who he wishes to say a million things to but he doesn’t know where to start.
should he tell him he’s now married? that he’s so happy now? that he misses him? that he wishes he could come back? satoru cant bring himself to say anything.
‘‘…at least curse me a little at the end..’’ his purple eyes are twinkling in the low light and satoru realises he’s never realised how beautiful sugurus eyes were until now. how ironic in that moment he remembers you commenting on them one summer evening. saying how they were prettier than even gojos blue eyes. how they speak a million things in no words. the world slips away and all turns white for a split moment and satoru is suspended in time. he is everywhere and nowhere.
he is seeing all his memories at once rushing past him like birds in flight. he wishes to hold onto the good ones but they escape his reach.
soon he is another place again. this time it is unfamiliar. he sees you. standing in a train station, your back is turned to him but satoru can sense something is wrong. he could sense your problems a mile away no matter how hard you try to hide them. he calls your name and you turn.
slowly but surely you look at him and your eyes widen, arm stretching out to touch him. to feel him. he walks toward you, like a magnet. a bang echoed a throughout the quiet hall and it takes him so long to realise the bang is from you.
it happens so quickly satoru doesn’t even react in time. he stand frozen in his step arms reaching out to touch your saying figure, but the light has gone out in your eyes for some reason and your looking at him but your aren’t.
you fall to the ground with a loud thud and you can’t help but remind satoru of a dead body. he hopes you aren’t one but the hole in the back of your head suggests otherwise. your fingers twitch for a second and satoru holds onto the hope that you may well still be alive but it dies with you too.
he cries out, screaming your name to no avail. shaking your shoulders in an attempt to wake you up from your sleep. ‘‘—‘toru.’’ satoru is blinded by grief, his blindfold off and his blue eyes out he takes in the world with hyper awareness but it does nothing but reaffirm that your—
‘‘satoru—’’
satoru is shooting up. the covers of his bed falling to his waist revealing his bare chest to the cold but he couldn’t care less. his body is trembling and for the first time in what seems to be forever, he’s scared—
‘‘satoru, darling—its okay, I’m here.’’ yes you are. you are untouched snd unhurt. satorus six eyes confirms but the lingering feeling of believing you were dead haunts him. your arms are around him in seconds, his head now laying on your chest.
for the next few minutes, for the first in time in what seems to be forever, satoru cries. his arms wrapping around your waist he digs his head deeper into your chest, his grip turning hard but you couldn’t care less. your attention was on your husband.
for a few minutes you sit there. satoru relying on your heartbeat to keep him calm, he slowly regains his composure but the dull tremble in his limbs is still there and no matter how much he tries to breathe in and out it remains. you rub soothing circles into his back and he looks up at you from where he lays, you finally see the whites of his eyeballs have gone red from crying and the blue seems to be shining even more than usual.
‘‘’toru. wanna talk about it?’’ he shakes his head. later. you would speak about it later when he was more comfortable but now he would rest. after what happened it seems the energy has finally left his body and he yawns. despite what had just happened you can’t help but find your lover cute. sliding back under the covers, he once again wraps his arms around you. this time entangling his legs with yours. his feet are dreadfully cold. ‘‘i love you, satoru.’’ you whisper into his hair. you can practically feel his smile through your shirt.
‘‘’m love you too.’’
NANAMI KENTO was a busy man. during his time as a normal working person he didn’t encounter things he would say were, traumatising. it was only when he returned to the jujutsu world that the nightmares returned. the last time he’d ever had them were following the death of his friend, haibara.
nanami walked through the streets of Tokyo. eyes roaming the many people and shops. nothing seemed out of the ordinary. everyone was on their way either to work, school or some place else. it was the perfect day. the sun was out and the cloud was littered with bright white clouds.
summer had always been the best season in his opinion. not for the great feeling it brought or even the great weather. but the fact that it reminded him of his long gone friend. haibara. he’d died back in his jujutsu days. hat’s why when nanami stopped in the middle of a bustling crowd, eyes hooking on a familiar figure, he couldn’t believe his eyes.
haibara stood a few feet away from him. in his usual jujutsu uniform he wore all those years ago. he looks unchanged. still the young boy at school. unawares of his fate. nanami swallows the lump in his throat away and he wants to say something.
say what exactly? he thinks, say that he was sorry? for not saving him? for not finding some way to save him? for not being strong enough? he knows what happened wasn’t his fault in the slightest but survivors guilt stands strong.
haibara speaks and his voice is surprisingly the same. the passage of time brighter dulling it not evolving it with growth. it’s a haunting reminder that in-fact he is dead. he always will be.
‘‘…why didn’t you save me, nanami?' you could’ve. you should’ve.'’ yes he should’ve. no, he couldn’t. but the guilt is a never ending well and nanami has fallen down it once again and he can’t find his way out. he runs to his friend but he can’t be stopped. he falls like water to the ground and the scene switches.
this time nanami is standing infront of haibaras body. or what’s left of it at least. his friend is cut in half, a thin trail of blood leaking out of his mouth and sliding down his chin. in another world he would’ve scolded him for his mess. in another world it would’ve been drool, but the bright red is obviously blood.
the pain is a dull throb this time. he has felt this pain already before, the feeling is nothing new.
the body changes and to his shock, it becomes you. your staring at the sky, eyes dull and unresponsive. you looked beautiful. with the way your hair spilled around your shoulders like pools or maybe it’s the slight upturn of your lips that hint a smile is coming.
what were you laughing about? he wouldn’t ever know. maybe that’s why he’s calling your same, begging for an answer. begging you not to leave him like haibara. he can’t afford to lose you too. the one who’s laid claim on his once broken heart. sown together the broken fabrics of his heart. with you he felt complete. the only person since haibara who ever elicited the feeling out of him. nanami opens his eyes and he is no longer looking at your dead body.
instead he is on his bed, in his home. throwing the covers off his sweating skin, he sits on the side. head in his hands in order to calm his breathing.
minutes pass before he hears the rustling of the duvet and your warm arms wrap around him from behind. he can tell you’d just woken up from your sluggish movements
‘‘—kento.’’
you take in his slightly trembling form and all sleep leaves you. you proceed to sit next to him quiet but a reassuring figure. you don’t ask him what caused him such distress but you can guess by the way his hands hover above the scars he gained all those years ago.
nanami finally relaxes. his heart calming, he lens into your touch. featherlight and soft. it doesn’t take him long before he’s in your arms, lying on your chest and sleeping once more.
TOJI FUSHIGURO had a hard job. one many would definitely die on but he was different. and as cliché as it sounded, he was built different. for all those years he lived with the zeni’in clan he acquired a cold heart of stone.
a defense mechanism to stop himself from getting hurt. that was until he met you of course. it seemed for the first time in his life he wasn’t living on his feet all the time. he relaxed in your presence. laughed and even cracked jokes.
he didn’t know how much of a lover man he was before he met you. he thought he wasn’t capable of such love. how you turned his life around, he didnt know.
hed just come back from a mission one he’d gained a few injuries in but nothing bad. you still fretted over him. making a hassle when you saw his blood soaked shirt. he wouldn’t deny it, he did love you hassling him about his safety, it was quite endearing. you’d went to sleep not long after, toji following suite.
toji stood in a familiar house of tradition Japanese architecture. everything screamed, money, wealth and power. something the zen’in clan prided themselves on. power brought you more money and wealth in the jujutsu world, toji was no stranger to it. ‘‘—you don’t even have any cursed energy, you mistake.''
toji had not seen the members of his clan in years. their faces now blurred in his memory’s so much he believed he had gotten over what they did to him, but now their voices always made little toji stiff backed and immediately sweating.
the man behind him had white hair and a pointed moustache but his face was a blur of colour. it seemed he’d forgotten what exactly they looked like but their voices were as clear as the day.
the harsh slap through toji off his feet and to the ground with a loud thud. a few specks off blood flying out of his now bruised lip. he’d also apparently forgotten that they beat him on the regular. ‘‘—you stupid monkey. look how weak you are—cant even fight back.’’ the man’s harsh words were followed with a brutal assault of kicks. toji cursed himself, he’d never be strong enough to fight back against these demons of the zen’in clan, no matter what he did so he took the abuse. the man kicked for what felt like hours, only stopping when he was breathless and toji was bruised all over.
‘‘you should’ve died in the womb.’’
he should’ve, he thought. he should’ve died as an infant rather than face the shame of having no cursed energy. he’d never amount to anything in there eyes other than a filthy monkey. suddenly, the man became enraged. he yanked toji up by the collar of his robe, bringing him close to his blur of a face.
‘‘your no son of mine—’’
the world faded to black and toji opened his eyes to a quiet room. he wasn’t in the zen’in estate. he wasn’t in the—
he shot up. arm reaching for the knife he kept in a daw on the bedside table. unbeknownst to him, the movement stirred you from your sleep. you awoke, groggy eyed and confused, the space where toji was once sleeping was empt, him now standing by the balcony of your apartment.
‘‘toji, what happened—’’
your words cut off when you saw the glint of something sharp in his hand. a knife. he was holding a weapons, but why— had someone come? questions flew around your brain score your eyes caught the glint of clear liquid on his cheek. you pieced two and two together and came to the conclusion he’d woken from a bad dream.
sliding out of bed. you walked up to toji, making sure not to startle the tensed man before you laid a warm hand on the expanse of his back. toji still didn’t turn, his face dutifully turned away from you. to hide what you already knew, you guessed.
trailing your hand down his arm, you hovered over his rock hard grip on the handle of the knife. coaxing him to let the weapon go. it didn’t take long before the muscles relaxed and he allowed you to take it away.
you didn’t speak for a few minutes before toji turned to fully face you. dried streaks of tears on his cheeks. he wasted no time in gathering you in his arms. his head hiding in the crook of your neck. you rubbed soothing circles into his bare back and before long you guided him back to bed whispering sweet nothing into his mop of dark hair.
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