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#// that the few people (save for one) i had stuff with have moved on
sunshinetomorrow · 3 days
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help a disabled trans woman get herself (and her cat) across the country and away from her family
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hi everyone, i didn't ever want to have to be the one making a post like this but i'm kind of out of options here. ive had to move back in with my mom over the past few months but things have been getting more and more unstable and its really taking a lot of a toll on my mental health + has been actively retraumatizing to an extent.
the original plan was to move all of my stuff with me at once to go live with my partner in texas in a month, but due to unforeseen circumstances my mom had to move out of her current place this weekend. she now wants me to come back with her and help her move back in with my grandparents, but this would mean moving in the literal opposite direction from where i want to go and getting even further from my goal of autonomy from her/the rest of my family.
my partners lease ends in a month and we were going to get an apartment together, but in light of everything i think the safest option for me right now is to fly out early and stay with them until then. the biggest issue is my cat piper, i don't want to leave her with my mom since i don't know when i'd even be back to pick her up. unfortunately though, this means i will have to pay for a pet travel fee on top of my plane ticket, as well as checked bag fees for any of my possessions i want to have access to over the next month.
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^ from what i can find, delta has the lowest rates for boarding pets, but they have pretty expensive checked bag policies (35 for the first bag and 45 for the second). all in all, i need around $350 to get myself, my cat and my basic clothes and possessions away from my family and safely with my partner at any time in the next week.
i don't have a specific goal date besides "as soon as possible" because the plane ticket prices will be changing every day. i also have a small amount of money saved up which could pay for part of this, but the longer i spend around my mom the more she is going to make me spend it on food or other things for our family. any additional funding will be spent on travel expenses or food and litter costs for piper!!
^ heres my paypal (ignore my strange username, somehow im one of the only trans people who doesnt have their deadname on paypal and im scared to change it bc of that)
i will keep everyone updated on this post!!!
$0/350
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I know I wrote a firefighter!Bradley AU but what about an every aviator is a firefighter AU??
(I'm sorry, thinking of applying for an on-call FF role now that I'm moving near a fire station and it got me...)
Bradley as a legacy firefighter - Goose died on the job in a freak accident when he and Mav were barely starting, then Mav stuck and had a friendly rivalry with Ice around going up the ranks/getting experience in their firehouse (who first gets the engineer, lieutenant, who gets the extra high rescue training, etc), up until Ice went into the chief roles and Mav moved to captain a heavy rescue squad...
Bradley had been rejected from the local fire academy twice (because of Mav pulling the strings... Not that Ice was aware at the time, only found out when Bradley found out and exploded on them...), certified in a different fire department and after all came back when he had already been a lieutenant at that department.
All the WSOs are double-certified or AEMT/paramedics. Natasha is doing something badass as well, maybe helicopter rescue or maybe aerial firefighting in general?? Bob is definitely a specialist medic (in kinda like the Rapid Response Unit or Motorcycle Unit in the UK...)
When Bradley comes back, he is recruited as potential captain for the fire house Mav and Ice spent over twenty years in and where his dad's face and helmet is in the hall of the fallen. Mav conveniently accepts a promotion people have been trying to push him into for the past 5 or so years, becoming a battalion chief that has the office at that station and directly overlooks the station's captains... And does absolutely everything so Bradley is not deemed suitable because he doesn't want him to be a firefighter at all...
Enter Jake Seresin, the new recruit that screams trouble. He's entered the academy a few months before, at the age of thirty and after doing some other job (maybe ex-military? ex-cop?? ex-farmer?? Idk) and instantly has beef with Bradley, the legacy fire captain and firefighter since nineteen, Jake being the overconfident know-it-all...
Cue some dangerous situation happening because of Jake's overconfidence/recklessness and Bradley risking it all (and breaking protocol and getting himself in trouble) to save his ass.
And you know, Jake is still his annoying, mouthy self, but there's some respect there now. And maybe he overhears Mav chewing Bradley out (and maybe he hears a bit too much as well, finding the secret of Bradley's triple legacy).
And since then Jake kinda starts to listen and maybe Bradley is a bit soft and maybe because he sees himself from almost fifteen years ago in Jake or maybe because he's a little fond of him (or you know, attracted to him...), he starts getting him some off the job, extra one on one training.
And maybe Jake develops a bit of a crush on his (almost) captain as the time goes. Maybe he brings out Bradley out of his shell as well, gets him to relax and stop thinking about pleasing Mav and Ice's expectations. Maybe it integrates Bradley better with the team, maybe they listen to him better, etc.
Cue once again something happening - Jake's apartment burns down (to be cliché...) and Bradley is doing overtime in another station and is the one responding. There's no dramatic rescue or anything (Jake's already evacuated most of the building) but Jake has no place to stay and his whole family is in Texas so Bradley offers he can stay on his couch.
Obviously he does not end up on the couch but in the bedroom. You know, with Bradley, wearing Bradley's clothes (all his stuff burnt down...), in Bradley's bed...
(Jake's gotta have some firefighting backstory as well btw - maybe his dad was a firefighter as well but he never got to meet him, maybe he was a safe haven baby brought to a firehouse?? He just doesn't admit it until he and Bradley are already almost-kinda a thing)
(Also, Bradley calls Jake some variation of Texas, Cowboy, etc as nick name because I know fire guys would be dead set on mocking Jake being from the south and having an accent)
There'd also be some kind of big event/mass casualty/etc that makes Mav drive out with the responding team and he and Bradley end up going into action together and getting their beef settled...
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jesterofcringe · 2 days
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I can't take it anymore- Is that an exit door? [Liminal space au] Natalie x Reader
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this follows the rules of the backrooms except i have no idea how the backrooms work and didnt feel like writing the entities so its liminal spaces instead :3 i love writing cringe can you tell also people who sent in requests im working on em now they'll be out soon 😋👍 ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────
★It all started because you were messing around with Natalie and it, once again, got you two in trouble.
★It started with a shove, which turned into a couple of light punches, which turned into a whole play fight. 
★Natalie pushed you hard enough to knock you over, and in trying to save yourself you instinctively grabbed her shirt and the both of you went crashing into the wall.
★Except you didn’t.
★The two of you fell for far too long, as if the wall was never there. Finally, you landed with a splash, your entire body submerged in water.
★You had crashed into a wall, and now you were submerged in water. Because that totally made sense.
★In a panic you scrambled to your feet, rubbing the water out of your eyes. When you opened them, you saw you were in a subway system, water flooded up to your knees.
★Everything got more confusing the more you made an effort to understand what was going on.
★Natalie’s hand shot out and grabbed your arm, “Are… are you seeing this too??”
★“Yeah…” You nodded slow “…I think so.”
★“Subway station, balls deep with water?”
★“Mhm.”
★“Could we like, be hallucinating the same thing?”
★You kicked up the water, splashing her, “Would we be able to feel a hallucination?”
★A heavy silence blanketed the two of you as you shivered and tried to figure out what the hell just happened.
★“Fuck.”
★Natalie started to walk away from you, and you instantly followed after her.
★“Where are you going?”
★“It’s freezing. Hallucination or not we can’t just stay here.”
★She reached back and offered you a hand, which you took in one of your own. Somehow, her fingers were colder than the water.
★Ever since then, nothing really made sense anymore. 
★At the end of the subway there was a door. A door with a faint glow around it. That was the only thing that stayed consistent. A door was always there and it always brought you somewhere new, no matter how different than the last. After the subway station it was a movie theater. Following that was a shopping mall, and an empty parking lot after that one. The doors brought you just about anywhere. You had seen more Walmarts than you cared to admit.
★That wasn’t even the weirdest part. No matter where you were, there was absolutely never any people. Entire amusement parks, attractions moving and all, completely abandoned by human life... Did humanity vanish, or did you?
★“Do you think the rest of the yellowjackets are looking for us?
★It was a random ass question. The last door you guys passed through led you into a gas station and the two of you were in the middle of stuffing a backpack you found with as much resources as you could. Despite thinking Natalie's question was somewhat out of the blue, you couldn't deny the fact that you had been thinking about the same thing.
★“I hope so.”
★ She tossed you a pair of flashlights and a candy bar, “What do you think they’re saying about us?”
★“Probably think we ran away and got married in secret.” You shrugged as you attempted to stuff some bubble gum in the front pocket.
★“At this point we may as well," She ripped open a bag of fruit gummies and offered you some, which you politely declined, "It’s not like we’re ever gonna get out of here.”
★You didn't appreciate the implications of never finding your way out, but you didn't mind the idea of becoming somewhat romantic with Natalie, even if it was due to the fact you two seemed to be likely to die together whether you were romantic or not.
★It was hard to keep track of the days. If you had to guess, it had been a few months. It felt a lot longer than that, though. Time was sort of distorted, although the first few weeks you were obsessed with trying to track how long the two of you had been trapped. Natalie was able to tell the whole concept of time was starting to drive you a bit mad, and the next time the doors brought you some place high up she chucked her watch as far as she could so you would stop staring at it.
★"What the hell Natalie! We needed that!"
★"Knowing the time isn't going to get us out of here! You staying sane, will!"
★You had to really get lucky with the places you ended up. Sometimes you went without food for weeks, sometimes you ended up in places with enough resources to provide for the next eighty years. You never stayed even though you knew you should. You were absolutely desperate to get out. Natalie on the other hand, came to terms with the whole thing surprisingly quick. She was very level headed, her calmness rubbing off on you whenever you started to work yourself up.
★“You’re delusional dude, you need sleep.”
★“I don’t wanna sleep, we need to keep going.”
★“We can keep going tomorrow.”
★“But-“
★“We. Can. Keep. Going. Tomorrow.”
★There was a time you ended up in an elementary school when the both of you were exhausted. You were both too tired to realize you had been walking through the same place every time you found the door. When you eventually did realize it after the third time, Natalie said fuck It, and you ended up spooning on the couch in the front lobby of the school.
★[The next morning the door you passed through led you to a mattress store. You didn’t know who you wanted to kill more, the doors or Natalie. The cuddles were pretty nice though, so you couldn’t stay mad at her.]
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inkskinned · 10 months
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no, actually, where is the whimsy?
my ex had a best friend named larry who asked me once: what do you think comes after irony?
we were at the bar where larry worked. it was a quiet night, and he'd hopped over to sit with us on the patron side. i swirled the lemon around my limoncello martini.
earnest positivity, i said, while my ex said, art self-destructs.
i stared at my ex. he stared at me.
his argument was the cinemasins argument: look how bad media is becoming! look at the loopholes and the dumb shit!
it was roughly 2011. galaxy print was still in. at the time, i had a favorite shirt that was a wolf howling at the moon. it got ripped in half in the wash and i honestly still mourn it. i dressed like effie stonem, because everyone did. and irony was the name of the thing. men liked MLP "ironically." the internet liked the kind of crass, "anti-mainstream" vibes of things like fuck romance, touch my butt and buy me pizza. we put cats in sunglasses everywhere, which was because we only liked things in irony.
and media had the same vibe in it: anti-hero white men would be "hard to love" and then storm off the scene. nobody was just earnestly trying to save the world: they were jaded, angry, unoriginal. mad you even asked them to try to help.
my ex ends up not being wrong. cinemasins becomes super popular. a lot of people start viewing media with this lens that is the cruelest, most jaded depiction. it's wrong for your character to have unexplained powers, even if the entire movie is about how strange it is she has unexplained powers - that is still considered a "loophole." characters make thoughtless, panicked choices? loophole. characters are actually kind people, despite hardship? loophole. features a woman doing literally anything without assistance? loophole. movies become hyper-aware of scrutiny, and now irony rules the media.
which means you go to a movie, and the character has to turn to the screen and say "beats me!!" or one of the side characters has to have some kind of quip like "are you seriously telling me that you think this is normal?" because nothing can happen in earnest. like a sitcom laugh track, we now anticipate the fourth-wall break: the moment that the media acknowledges it is telling a story. the media has to apologize for itself, or else someone like my ex rolls their eyes.
but here's the thing: i wasn't wrong either.
the difference might be that i am (and always have been) so soft-hearted that any crack in the light of this world will spear me into the ground. and i was the poet in the relationship. (he thought that was the same thing as being naïve and stupid). i was making things daily. i knew how all of us artists are driven by some strange desire to evolve. he notably liked to critique art, not to create it.
so yes, i've made things that are bitter and angry and even ironic. i've made long, sharp poems with all capital letters, and i've made poems about how the silence stretches out like a song. someone wrote once that we will spend our whole lives just circling the place we grew up. i think it's more that we spend our whole lives trying to remake a home. i think it's that as we age, it becomes less exciting to build the castle on the beach - we become aware of erosion, of windforce. we realize what we really want is to come home to our dog, castle or not.
and while art in the foreground is mired in white male violence and irony, and aggression, and not taking anything seriously - i don't think that's true of all art. i think more and more artists are leaning in to the things we love. the world has changed so much. they have taken so many things from us. the only thing we have left is love. at the bottom of the moving box - all we get is the faint sense that we have to appreciate what little we've got. i can't enjoy this stuff ironically anymore: what room do i have for irony? if it makes me happy, that is an amazing thing. there are so few happy places left for me. i want to be happy because of how leaves shiver beside each other like nestling birds. i want to be happy because of the color pink, and how magenta doesn't exist. i have spent so much of this life suffering, i have earned my right to a gentle ending. if nothing matters, i get to assign meaning to the nothing. i get to create meaning. i am an artist first and foremost, which means creation is my thing.
where is the whimsy? wherever i fucking put it. because if this is my last fucking chance to do any good in this world - i want to do it earnestly. i want to write things that make you happy. that make people feel heard and seen. what comes after irony has to be positivity.
it was close to my 21st birthday. in 7 years, i would end up writing a book about this relationship, which is hopefully coming out somewhere around May 2024. i come back to this bar scene in my memories a lot. i keep thinking of how pale my ex was. the look that crossed his face. how i looked back at him. how for a moment, both of us couldn't recognize the other person. like the gulf between us was a suddenly wide and cavernous thing. like we were alien to each other. he never took my opinion seriously, and he always seemed surprised whenever his manic-pixie-dream-girl ever broke free of the plot. like in the whole time we were together, i wasn't human enough.
this knowledge: where he said nothing comes after, my only instinct was what comes after is love.
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Fandom can do a little gatekeeping. As a treat.
So I finally decided to archive-lock my fics on AO3 last night. I’ve been considering it since the AI scrape last year, but the tipping point was this whole lore.fm debacle, coupled with some thoughts I’ve been thinking regarding Fandom These Days in general and Fandom As A Community in particular. So I wanna explain why I waited so long, why I locked my stuff up now, and why I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m a-okay with making it harder for people to see my stories.
Lurkers really are great, tho
I’m a chronic lurker, and have been since I started hanging out on the internet as a teen in the 00s. These days it’s just cuz I don’t feel a need to socialize very often, but back then it was because I was shy and knew I was socially awkward. Even if I made an account, I’d spend months lurking on message boards or forums or Livejournals, watching other people interact and getting a feel for that particular community’s culture and etiquette before I finally started interacting myself. And y’know, that approach saved me a lot of embarrassment. Over the course of my lurking on any site, there was always some other person who’d clearly joined up five minutes after learning the place existed, barged in without a care for their behavior, and committed so many social faux pas that all the other users were immediately annoyed with them at best. I learned a lot observing those incidents. Lurk More is Rule 33 of the internet for very good reason.
Lurking isn’t bad or weird or creepy. It’s perfectly normal. I love lurking. It’s hard for me to not lurk - socializing takes a lot of energy out of me, even via text. (Heck it took 12 hours for me to write this post, I wish I was kidding--) Occasionally I’ll manage longer bouts of interaction - a few weeks posting here, almost a year chatting in a discord there - but I’m always gonna end up going radio silent for months at some point. I used to feel bad about it, but I’ve long since made peace with the fact that it’s just the way my brain works. I’m a chronic lurker, and in the long term nothing is going to change that.
The thing with being a chronic lurker is that you have to accept that you are not actually seen as part of the community you are lurking in. That’s not to say that lurkers are unimportant - lurkers actually are important, and they make up a large proportion of any online community - but it’s simple cause and effect. You may think of it as “your community”, but if you’ve never said a word, how is the community supposed to know you exist? If I lurked on someone’s LJ, and then that person suddenly friendslocked their blog, I knew that I had two choices: Either accept that I would never be able to read their posts again, or reach out to them and ask if I could be added to their friends list with the full understanding that I was a rando they might not decide to trust. I usually went with the first option, because my invisibility as a lurker was more important to me than talking to strangers on the internet.
Lurking is like sitting on a park bench, quietly people-watching and eavesdropping on the conversations other people are having around you. You’re in the park, but you’re not actively participating in anything happening there. You can see and hear things that you become very interested in! But if you don’t introduce yourself and become part of the conversation, you won’t be able to keep listening to it when those people walk away. When fandom migrated away from Livejournal, people moved to new platforms alongside their friends, but lurkers were often left behind. No one knew they existed, so they weren’t told where everyone else was going. To be seen as part of a fandom community, you need to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known, etc. etc.
There’s nothing wrong with lurking. There can actually be benefits to lurking, both for the lurkers and the communities they lurk in. It’s just another way to be in a fandom. But if that is how you exist in fandom--and remember, I say this as someone who often does exist that way in fandom--you need to remember that you’re on the outside looking in, and the curtains can always close.
I’ve always been super sympathetic to lurkers, because I am one. I know there’s a lot of people like me who just don’t socialize often. I know there’s plenty of reasons why someone might not make an account on the internet - maybe they’re nervous, maybe they’re young and their parents don’t allow them to, maybe they’re in a bad situation where someone is monitoring their activity, maybe they can only access the internet from public computer terminals. Heck, I’ve never even logged into AO3 on my phone--if I’m away from my computer I just read what’s publicly available. 
I know I have people lurking on my fics. I know my fics probably mean a lot to someone I don’t even know exists. I know this because there are plenty of fics I love whose writers don’t know I exist.
I love my commenters personally; I love my lurkers as an abstract concept. I know they’re there and I wish them well, and if they ever de-lurk I love them all the more.
So up until last year I never considered archive-locking my fic, because I get it. The AI scraping was upsetting, but I still hesitated because I was thinking of lurkers and guests and remembering what it felt like to be 15 and wondering if it’d be worth letting a stranger on the internet know I existed and asking to be added to their friends list just so I could reread a funny post they made once.
But the internet has changed a lot since the 00s, and fandom has changed with it. I’ve read some things and been doing some thinking about fandom-as-community over the last few years, and reading through the lore.fm drama made me decide that it’s time for me to set some boundaries.
I still love my lurkers, and I feel bad about leaving any guest commenters behind, especially if they’re in a situation where they can’t make an account for some reason. But from here on out, even my lurkers are going to have to do the bare minimum to read my fics--make an AO3 account.
Should we gatekeep fandom?
I’ve seen a few people ask this question, usually rhetorically, sometimes as a joke, always with a bit of seriousness. And I think…yeah, maybe we should. Except wait, no, not like that--
A decade ago, when people talked about fandom gatekeeping and why it was bad to do, it intersected with a lot of other things, mainly feminism and classism. The prevalent image of fandom gatekeeping was, like, a man learning that a woman likes Star Wars and haughtily demanding, “Oh, yeah? Well if you’re REALLY a fan, name ten EU novels” to belittle and dismiss her, expecting that a “real fan” would have the money and time to be familiar with the EU, and ignoring the fact that male movie-only fans were still considered fans. The thing being gatekept was the very definition of “being a fan” and people’s right to describe themselves as one.
That’s not what I mean when I say maybe fandom should gatekeep more. Anyone can call themselves a fan if they like something, that’s fine. But when it comes to the ability to enjoy the fanworks produced by the fandom community…that might be something worth gatekeeping.
See, back in the 00s, it was perfectly common for people to just…not go on the internet. Surfing the web was a thing, but it was just, like, a fun pastime. Not everyone did it. It wasn’t until the rise of social media that going online became a thing everyone and their grandmother did every day. Back then, going on the internet was just…a hobby.
So one of the first gates online fandom ever had was the simple fact that the entire world wasn’t here yet.
The entire world is here now. That gate has been demolished.
And it’s a lot easier to find us now. Even scattered across platforms, fandom is so centralized these days. It isn’t a network of dedicated webshrines and forums that you can only find via webrings anymore, it’s right there on all the big social media sites. AO3 didn’t set out to be the main fanfic website, but that’s definitely what it’s become. It’s easy for people to find us--and that includes people who don’t care about the community, and just want “content.”
Transformative fandom doesn’t like it when people see our fanworks as “content”. “Content” is a pretty broad term, but when fandom uses it we’re usually referring to creative works that are churned out by content creators to be consumed by an audience as quickly as possible as often as possible so that the content creator can generate revenue. This not-so-new normal has caused a massive shift in how people who are new to fandom view fanworks--instead of seeing fic or art as something a fellow fan made and shared with you, they see fanworks as products to be consumed.
Transformative fandom has, in general, always been a gift economy. We put time and effort into creating fanworks that we share with our fellow fans for free. We do this so we don’t get sued, but fandom as a whole actually gets a lot out of the gift economy. Offer your community a story, and in return you can get comments, build friendships, or inspire other people to write things that you might want to read. Readers are given the gift of free stories to read and enjoy, and while lurking is fine, they have the choice to engage with the writer and other readers by leaving comments or making reclists to help build the community.
And look, don’t get me wrong. People have never engaged with fanfic as much as fan writers wish they would. There has always been “no one comments anymore” wank. There have always been people who only comment to say “MORE!” or otherwise demand or guilt trip writers into posting the next chapter. But fandom has always agreed that those commenters are rude and annoying, and as those commenters navigate fandom they have the chance to learn proper community etiquette.
However, now it seems that a lot of the people who are consuming fanworks aren’t actually in the community. 
I won’t say “they aren’t real fans” because that’s silly; there’s lots of ways to be a fan. But there seem to be a lot of fans now who have no interest in fandom as a community, or in adhering to community etiquette, or in respecting the gift economy. They consume our fics, but they don’t appreciate fan labor. They want our “content”, but they don’t respect our control over our creations.
And even worse--they see us as a resource. We share our work for free, as a gift, but all they see is an open-source content farm waiting to be tapped into. We shared it for free, so clearly they can do whatever they want with it. Why should we care if they feed our work into AI training datasets, or copy/paste our unfinished stories into ChatGPT to get an ending, or charge people for an unnecessary third-party AO3 app, or sell fanbindings on etsy for a profit without the author’s permission, or turn our stories into poor imitations of podfics to be posted on other platforms without giving us credit or asking our consent, while also using it to lure in people they can datascrape for their Forbes 30 Under 30 company? 
And sure, people have been doing shady things with other people’s fanworks since forever. Art theft and reposting has always been a big problem. Fanfic is harder to flat-out repost, but I’ve heard of unauthorized fic translations getting posted without crediting the original author. Once in…I think the 2010s? I read a post by a woman who had gone to some sort of local bookselling event, only to find that the man selling “his” novel had actually self-published her fanfic. (Wish I could find that one again, I don’t even remember where I read it.)
But aside from that third example, the thing is…as awful as fanart/writing theft is, back in the day, the main thing a thief would gain from it was clout. Clout that should rightfully go to the creators who gifted their work in the first place, yeah, but still. Just clout. People will do a lot of hurtful things for clout, but fandom clout means nothing outside of fandom. Fandom clout is not enough to incentivize the sort of wide-scale pillaging we’re seeing from community outsiders today.
Money, on the other hand… Well, fandom’s just a giant, untapped content farm, isn’t it? Think of how much revenue all that content could generate.
Lurkers are a normal and even beneficial part of any online community. Maybe one day they’ll de-lurk and easily slide into place beside their fellow fans because they already know the etiquette. Maybe they’re active in another community, and they can spread information from the community they lurk in to the community they’re active in. At the very least, they silently observe, and even if they’re not active community members, they understand the community.
Fans who see fanworks as “content” don’t belong in the same category as lurkers. They’re tourists. 
While reading through the initial Reddit thread on the lore.fm situation, I found this comment:
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[ID: Reddit User Cabbitowo says: ... So in anime fandoms we have a word called tourist and essentially it means a fan of a few anime and doesn't care about anime tropes and actively criticizes them. This is kind of how fandoms on tiktok feel. They're touring fanfics and fanart and actively criticizes tropes that have been in the fandom since the 60s. They want to be in a fandom but they don't want to engage in fandom 
OP totallymandy responds: Just entered back into Reddit after a long day to see this most recent reply. And as a fellow anime fan this making me laugh so much since it’s true! But it sorta hurts too when the reality sets in. Modern fandom is so entitled and bratty and you’d think it’s the minors only but that’s not even true, my age-mates and older seem to be like that. They want to eat their cake and complain all whilst bringing nothing to the potluck… :/ END ID]
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“Tourist” is an apt name for this sort of fan. They don’t want to be part of our community, and they don’t have to be in order to come into our spaces and consume our work. Even if they don’t steal our work themselves, they feel so entitled to it that they’re fine with ignoring our wishes and letting other people take it to make AI “podfics” for them to listen to (there are a lot of comments on lore.fm’s shutdown announcement video from people telling them to just ignore the writers and do it anyway). They’ll use AI to generate an ending to an unfinished fic because they don’t care about seeing “the ending this writer would have given to the story they were telling”, they just want “an ending”. For these tourist fans, the ends justify the means, and their end goal is content for them to consume, with no care for the community that created it for them in the first place.
I don’t think this is confined to a specific age group. This isn’t “13-year-olds on Wattpad” or “Zoomers on TikTok” or whatever pointless generation war we’re in now. This is coming from people who are new to fandom, whose main experience with creative works on the internet is this new content culture and who don’t understand fandom as a community. That description can be true of someone from any age group.
It’s so easy to find fandom these days. It is, in fact, too easy. Newcomers face no hurdles or challenges that would encourage them to lurk and observe a bit before engaging, and it’s easy for people who would otherwise move on and leave us alone to start making trouble. From tourist fans to content entrepreneurs to random people who just want to gawk, it’s so easy for people who don’t care about the fandom community to reap all of its fruits. 
So when I say maybe fandom should start gatekeeping a bit, I’m referring to the fact that we barely even have a gate anymore. Everyone is on the internet now; the entire world can find us, and they don’t need to bother learning community etiquette when they do. Before, we were protected by the fact that fandom was considered weird and most people didn’t look at it twice. Now, fandom is pretty mainstream. People who never would’ve bothered with it before are now comfortable strolling in like they own the place. They have no regard for the fandom community, they don’t understand it, and they don’t want to. They want to treat it just like the rest of the content they consume online.
And then they’re surprised when those of us who understand fandom culture get upset. Fanworks have existed far longer than the algorithmic internet’s content. Fanworks existed long before the internet. We’ve lived like this for ages and we like it.
So if someone can’t be bothered to respect fandom as a community, I don’t see why I should give them easy access to my fics.
Think of it like a garden gate
When I interact with commenters on my fic, I have this sense of hospitality.
The comment section is my front porch. The fic is my garden. I created my garden because I really wanted to, and I’m proud of it, and I’m happy to share it with other people. 
Lots of people enjoy looking at my garden. Many walk through without saying anything. Some stop to leave kudos. Some recommend my garden to their friends. And some people take the time to stop by my front porch and let me know what a beautiful garden it is and how much they’ve enjoyed it. 
Any fic writer can tell you that getting comments is an incredible feeling. I always try to answer all my comments. I don’t always manage it, but my fics’ comment sections are the one place that I manage to consistently socialize in fandom. When I respond to a comment, it feels like I’m pouring out a glass of lemonade to share with this lovely commenter on my front porch, a thank you for their thank you. We take a moment to admire my garden together, and then I see them out. The next time they drop by, I recognize them and am happy to pour another glass of lemonade.
My garden has always been open and easy to access. No fences, no walls. You just have to know where to find it. Fandom in general was once protected by its own obscurity, an out-of-the-way town that showed up on maps but was usually ignored.
But now there’s a highway that makes it easy to get to, and we have all these out-of-towner tourists coming in to gawk and steal our lawn ornaments and wonder if they can use the place to make themselves some money.
I don’t care to have those types trampling over my garden and eating all my vegetables and digging up my flowers to repot and sell, so I’ve put up a wall. It has a gate that visitors can get through if they just take the time to open it.
Admittedly, it’s a small obstacle. But when I share my fics, I share them as a gift with my fellow fans, the ones who understand that fandom is a community, even if they’re lurkers. As for tourist fans and entrepreneurs who see fic as content, who have no qualms ignoring the writer’s wishes, who refuse to respect or understand the fandom community…well, they’re not the people I mean to share my fic with, so I have no issues locking them out. If they want access to my stories, they’ll have to do the bare minimum to become a community member and join the AO3 invite queue.
And y’know, I’ve said a lot about fandom and community here, and I just want to say, I hope it’s not intimidating. When I was younger, talk about The Fandom Community made me feel insecure, and I didn’t think I’d ever manage to be active enough in fandom spaces to be counted as A Member Of The Community. But you don’t have to be a social butterfly to participate in fandom. I’ll always and forever be a chronic lurker, I reblog more than I post, I rarely manage to comment on fic, and I go radio silent for months at a time--but I write and post fanfiction. That’s my contribution.
Do you write, draw, vid, gif, or otherwise create? Congrats, you're a community member.
Do you leave comments? Congrats, you're a community member.
Do you curate reclists? Congrats, you're a community member.
Do you maintain a fandom blog or fuckyeah blog? Congrats, you're a community member.
Do you provide a space for other fans to convene in? Congrats, you're a community member.
Do you regularly send asks (off anon so people know who you are)? Congrats, you're a community member.
Do you have fandom friends who you interact with? Congrats, you're a community member.
There’s lots of ways to be a fan. Just make sure to respect and appreciate your fellow fans and the work they put in for you to enjoy and the gift economy fandom culture that keeps this community going.
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straawberries · 4 months
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gonna make another post since that usually helps with reach
teehee poll for reach. please read the rest of this if you can
HI IM DELILAH AND IVE GOT LESS THAN 4 MONTHS BEFORE IM HOMELESS WITH NO OPTIONS FOR PLACES TO LIVE
heeyyy its me delilah. im an autistic plural trans girl with ptsd, and im living in an abusive household with my adoptive "father" that absolutely hates me. in less than 4 months, i am going to be kicked out, and i am trying to raise the money i need to survive this event.
ive been trying, pretty much every chance i get, to get a job, but i think because of this shitty small town in texas, everyone already knows who i am and nobody wants to hire me. this means i have to rely on stuff like this.
by JUNE 1ST 2024, i need to make enough money to move out, or else... well, i dont really know what will happen to me (other than vague "homelessness"), but im really scared that it wont end well.
on top of that im rarely being fed enough which is seriously fucking with my mood and making me feel like shit, so im having to balance saving and eating which.. with the money im currently getting, is not very sustainable. other than a few people giving a lot (who i am eternally thankful for and if youre able to do this i would basically do anything for you) im basically getting zero donations.
i get that this kind of stuff is annoying and maybe a bit slow, but just taking a few seconds, maybe a minute or two at most, to give me a small amount of money, would be a hell of a lot more helpful than doing nothing.
C*SH*PP - @delilahswagga
P*YP*L - @delilahkill
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plenty of people use stuff like this to scam, so heres some info about me if you doubt that this is true. (copy pasted from previous post)
i have a really big love for performing, i fell in love with theatre years ago and performed the addams family musical as fester about a month ago as my biggest role on stage yet, and right now im in the process of getting ready for antigone as teiresius. i love music, and its one of my life goals to learn as many instruments as possible, and currently i own quite a few, though my favorites are my two ukuleles and my super cool electric guitar. i have 8 partners at the moment, and i have a very big desire to one day live with as many of them as i can. i pride myself on being the best partner i can be, and its been my goal to make all my partner's lives better (and i think ive been doing a good job at it :3)
i love cats an extreme amount, ive never had a cat myself (because my dad is insane and hates cats and tries to hit cats with his truck) but being around cats makes me super happy and always makes my anxieties go away, even when im having an anxiety attack or a panic attack. i really hope i can get a few cats one day, and i want to give them all silly food names :) my fursona is kind of a reflection of that, her name is bagel. some cat names ive thought of are mochi, chili, Supreme Pizza, or maybe french fry :)
im not sure if ill be able to achieve any of my goals if i dont get the financial support i need. ive been.. really close to giving up recently, but i dont want to have to do that, so im going to fight like this for as long as i can.
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nouearth · 23 days
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the boy next door.
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pairing. alan ritchson x male reader headcanon.
summary. with his profile brewing in hollywood, projects are consistently lining up for alan, and the last thing he needs is a new roommate getting in the way of his stress. unless, reader finds himself becoming alan's personal stress-ball?
content warning. camboy!au, camboy!reader, top!alan, bottom!reader, food!play (cucumber as dildo), muscle worship, size difference, spitting, oral (r!giving on dildo), dirty talk, verbal, masturbation, alan and reader are roommates.
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moving in.
roommate!alan who surprises you with his massive stature when he greets you on move-in day.
it was jaw-dropping. well, almost so. you were luckily aware enough to catch the slack of your jaw from relaxing any further. any second longer, and you would've been hypnotized into submission by the man's brawn physicality; massive chest, bulging arms, and thick fingers—traits you would find yourself drooling about.
"hey, uh... (m/n), right? is that how you say your last name?" "spot on! and... alan. man, your name already sounds like a celebrity, i'm jealous." "haha, hopefully the casting directors feel the same way."
roommate!alan who helps you with your luggages without a single request from your end.
aside from being eye-candy, alan utilized his muscles for the greater good and brought your belongings from the trunk of your car, to the front of your door in a matter of minutes. even when you pleaded him not to, he went on ahead while urging you to take a rest after the long drive across the city.
you complained, though half-heartedly because your ass was sore from driving all day. his massive arms were a distraction as the veins surged through every muscle of fiber like lightning.
"you really didn't need to do all of that—" "hey, you're saving me from shelling out an extra thousand by being my roommate. plus, you seem... normal? that's the least i could do." "normal? pft, i don't know about that. but i will say, your kind gestures have put you on my 'no-kill' list." "let's backpedal a bit. is it too late to kick you out?"
roommate!alan who has already taken a liking towards you in the few hours you two have spent together to unpack.
saying that people 'stared' at alan would be underplaying what they've actually done. it was a daily occurrence to catch people gawking at his stature. whether it was with astonishment, intimidation, lust, or hostility, all eyes were on him, collective eyes and gasps piecing together how a man could look the way he does. some whispered 'steroids', others envied his dedication.
as uncomfortable as it could be at times, he liked the attention knowing he'd be the subject of one's conversation to another friend.
with you, it was no different. he'd caught you several times staring at his arms from across the room. or maybe it was his shoulders? how they perfectly filled his shirt out from seam to seam? either way, you were enchanted, especially when he'd nonchalantly flex his muscles every now and then in hopes he'd catch your eye.
and he could say the same about himself when he'd catch you bent over, ass raised high while you dug inside of your boxes to unpack the remaining decor you had brought with you.
until that moment, he never noticed how much smaller you were compared to his, the top of your head barely meeting his chin if he was to line you up. how much of a desire had awakened to have you in his arms, just to see how you perfectly fit into his body.
getting to know each other.
roommate!alan who has already learned of your habits, likes and dislikes, and hobbies within a few weeks of you moving in.
it was the small stuff that you found yourself gushing over. you two almost always had dinner together on the couch. condiments on the side for you, ketchup over his fries for him.
whether it was homemade or takeout, the best memories being made between the two of you were simply eating in front of the tv and watching alan's roles despite his reluctance.
you would cheer whenever he appeared on the screen, the camera somehow making him seem smaller than he appeared to be in real life. it was impressive, and once again, you found yourself drawn to the sheer size of muscles beside you.
throbbing, even at the simplest touch, as he gave your shoulders squeeze amidst passing by you to collect your plate.
"have to head to bed early. got an audition in the morning." "awesome! was this the one you were telling me about earlier?""yep. i worked with the director once, so fingers crossed?"
roommate!alan who can read your body language early on, and senses that you're hiding something from him.
it was that one question that either turned you into stone, or a babbling buffoon as you would try to avoid the subject.
your occupation.
he didn't know much other than the fact that you worked from home, which was why your bedroom was so intricately set up like a tech start-up.
four different types of cameras, a gaming chair, several monitors for one pc; it was intricate and honestly, alan didn't really understand it.
"so, you don't have to say yes or no, but..." "hm..?""are you a youtuber? like, one of those tech guys who reviews new phones and stuff?""something like that, i guess?" "is it mentally draining?" "more so... physically?"
roommate!alan who asks about your day after coming home from a shoot.
you looked exhausted, drained, wrecked—images of you that he never thought would rile him up. yet, as you groggily came out of your room with flushed skin, and a thirst that needed to be quenched, alan was equally parched just watching you recover your breath in between gulps of water.
cluttered state of mind.
roommate!alan who merely offers you a look of annoyance when you greet him after he arrives home.
you've recognized that look by now, and all you could simply provide was his dinner plate, and a sympathetic pat on the back.
"listen, i know a friend and he has a mutual that can help you—" "not in the mood right now, (m/n).""just trying to help, alan."
roommate!alan who ends the night early, leaving you on the couch with his plate left untouched.
it was awkward, to simply put it. the show you put on happened to be the one he was auditioning for, and then ultimately flunked because he forgot his script. from the corner of your eye, you could see his jaw tightening, straining, fork scraping against the ceramic plate as he pushed the fried rice in a corner, and then eastward, because that corner was empty.
though, is it wrong to say that you found it hot? if only there was a less forward and awkward way of saying, 'hey, i'd love to take your mind off of things right now. let me suck you off.'
secret unlocked.
stressed!alan who spends half-an-hour in the shower contemplating whether this career was worth it.
countless of potential roles never making it pass the call-back stage; he was growing exhausted from it. driving from city to city, filling his car with gas that would amount to nothing in the end. he could only stretch his royalties out for so much longer, and—
no, he wasn't a quitter. the last time he felt like this, the next audition was a success. if predictions are right, he'd consider this madness a sign of luck, at least for the meantime.
stressed!alan who needs something to take out his frustration on.
maybe he should head to the gym? no, he already showered. and it was already getting too late for his liking to drive back and forth at this time, even if he wasn't tired.
at the corner of his eye, his laptop glinted with a sparkle.
some good porn would fix him.
stressed!alan who has one hand down his sweats, and the other calmly scrolling through his favorite cam site.
his lips grew chapped, licking them from time to time as he watched the page load without the decency to sugar-coat its offerings. his sight was immediately assaulted with moving thumbnails of women, and men under the spell of their own lust. some squirmed from the uncontrollable feeling of being filled, while others preferred talking to their patrons, touching themselves to the pixelated smut sent through the chat.
stressed!alan who has you on his mind despite the options to choose from, and he squeezes his large balls in his hand.
the cursor maneuvered respectfully around one performer’s breasts and another’s erection in its journey to the filter list. the drop-down menu pulled open and alan checked off the men within his age range. 
with a quick load, the website refreshed with a new assortment of performers, and his cock began to sprout at the moving thumbnails. his hand immediately began to feed his growing bulge with gentle squeezes and rubs as he scrolled what seemed to be endless cycle of camboys.
the sudden warmth of his clothes stuck uncomfortably to his skin. alan removed each article within seconds, yet the flush of his skin remained, ached as it yearned for the physical touch of the seductive men beckoning him.
stressed!alan who felt the world had stopped. the heat frozen in his cheeks, his hands equally mirroring as he hovered over a familiar face. strained, orbs dilated and wandering, and holy shit—so fucking inviting.
it was you.
stressed!alan who watches your stream for a few minutes to decipher if it was truly you before shamelessly stroking his cock after he confirms that it was.
sweat dribbled over your neck and body in diverging streams. your legs were raised on their own accord, thick thighs shaking from the muscles working overdrive to keep you still and perfectly centered before your webcam.
stressed!alan who couldn't believe what he was seeing. it all made sense now, why you were so reluctant to tell what you truly did.
you were a fucking whore. a whore for the internet for everyone to goon to, to cum to. he can imagine it now, how much pleasure you'd given these men as he watched you fuck yourself with a cucumber.
and he was one of them. alan's large cock was manhandled by his hand, stroking sloppily with an ample amount of lube squeezed over the flesh of throbbing muscle.
all those memories of you looking so wrecked came fluttering in. you looked wrecked because you were fucking wrecked.
by a fucking cucumber.
and alan has never been so envious of a vegetable despite eating them on a daily.
you were plunging your tight hole with a long cucumber, slickly lubed from the condom over the girth of the green plant. with every push of your wrist, your legs caved into the pressure to set themselves down, but every time the crown of the plant pressed into your prostate, you were reminded of the viewers who had been donating, their pop-up messages urging you to keep them up 'like a good boy.'
stressed!alan who jerks himself off to the rhythm of your wrist.
every time you sank the thick cucumber inside of you, alan paced himself to match your tempo, plunging himself into his closed fist, mimicking your refusing hole by opening his fingers one-by-one, until he had fully breached through.
stressed!alan who mutters to himself, who mutters words that you couldn't hear because you were busy pleasuring yourself for hundreds of men watching you.
"fuck yeah, take that dick..." "too big for you?""fuck, we'll make it fit."
stressed!alan who imagines himself fucking into you.
he knew his cock was big. he'd been told countless of times, by men and women, and lots of time, they would quit a few minutes in because it was just too much.
but you, he was certain that you were able to take him. because—fuck—alan was bigger than that cucumber you were fucking yourself open with. it needed a glorious amount of lube, like what you had displayed before him, dripping heavily from your abused cavity, but luckily, you had experience in handling big sizes, right?
you'd take him, like the 'good boy' the users were spamming in the chatbox. you'd take him with your eyes forced shut from him stretching you out. from alan's impatience and reluctance to wait for you to adjust to him, because he's fucking furious at you.
why didn't you tell him sooner? why were you hiding this from him? how could you be so selfish and leave him blue-balled whenever you'd come out in those shorts of yours? teasing him with the smallest glimpse of your inner thighs?
if he could ever lay his hands on you, he'd show no mercy. fucking your ass doggy-style till your cheeks clapped. plunging you with his cock as you spread your legs open for him. locking your throat with his arm while he's under you, your back pressed to his chest, rendering you trapped within his embrace. you'd take his cock in every position, in every state, whether you'd like it or not, because you were a good, fucking, boy.
stressed!alan who spits on his cock because you began simultaneously filling your mouth up with a dildo.
spit. god, there was so much spit coming out of your mouth. you loved pushing yourself to the limit, alan could see it. the light leaving your eyes whenever you pushed the dildo a little too far to the back of your throat. that could be his cock, if you let him.
he imagined how warm your mouth would be. how perfectly shaped it's made for his thick, meaty cock. he had the perfect curve to make it a struggle to swallow him down, but like he noticed, you loved a challenge, didn't you?
alan's cock was plump, and beaten red in his hand. noises similar to the sound of you sucking off the dildo were made with his hand, his spit and lube sloshing together in a lewd symphony that could be heard from your room if you'd learn to shut up.
"choke on it, gag on that fucking dick..." "fuck yeah, spit on it.""good fucking boy."
stressed!alan who's nearing his climax from watching you tease the camera with your hole.
you repeated countless of profanities after every plunge of the cucumber flushing deep inside of you. you made sure to buy the girthiest one; they loved seeing your asshole gape at the end of the stream. twisting your wrist, you could feel the subtle ridges of the cucumber, violating your guts with its nature, and it was all-so glorious. the size, the texture, the viewers, the sound of donations coming in, the ‘thank you’ messages after for making them come; you were a true star within this community and it evidently showed when you finally hit your donation goal for the night.
alan fucked his fist, nearly coming to the sight of your gaping hole when you yanked the cucumber out of you like a sword-wielding knight ready to slay a dragon.
it was beautiful, watching you desperately hold onto the physical being of the cucumber, but all there was to it in the end was the memory of its girth. your hole was perfectly molded it, clenching and pursing, blowing fluttering kisses to the camera, to alan.
and if it was up to him, he'd ram his cock into you by now, not letting a second to spare in fucking you until your muscles felt like jelly, because fuck, you were so enticing like this. head lolled back, mouth open with your tongue hanging out as if you had a dripping cock to catch its cum above you.
the sound of donations kept chiming in, and alan knew he wasn't alone in this enchantment.
one more hit to your prostate, and you came undone in seconds. thick spurts of cum shot at your chest from your current position, then at your face when you raised your hips a little higher and pumped your cock with a ravishing fist. the sound of donations rang like a police siren. if you were being profiled for a crime, it was because you couldn’t hold in your cum any longer like one user had begged for you to.
stressed!alan who perfectly aligns his orgasm with yours and blows multiple loads on the screen on his laptop. his moans came out in hushed stutters, countering your choked whimpers that would then break out into begs for cum.
"fuck, fuck, fuck. i need your cum, i need it. give me all of it, fuck. all over my body. in my ass. on my face. i need that load."
his cum came out in thick, pulsating ropes, flying forward to land on the image of you resuming to fuck yourself to your audience's collective orgasm. this time, at a closer view, as you centered the camera to fill the stream with a screenful of ass and a gaping hole. it was your fans' favorite part of the stream, the chat exploding in several fire emojis and astonishment as you showed your pretty insides blooming for thick, endless spunk.
it was hypnotizing, almost as if you were really there before him.
with one hand, alan brought his laptop in between his legs, and smeared his own cum over the blooming resolution of his screen. feigning a breeding, he slides his cock over his cum, over his laptop screen, while you moaned in the background, begging lewdly for cum, to be filled, to be bred, to be dripping, to be fucked, and alan doesn't know what came over him, but another load automatically came out of him like some kind of spell.
"h-holy shit...""fuck, yeah... give me that load, all your load... are my fans breeding me right now?"
alan painted you until you were practically hidden beneath the layers of his orgasm. translucent white blurred the screen, but he could still make out your silhouette. sitting now, exhausted, wrecked, evidently too tired to be bothered to clean up the mess you made on your body.
and just like that, his head felt lighter. all of his worries had left with every dump of load over your pixelated hole, and yours as well, as you leaned back to catch your breath with your eyes closed. his breathing matched the pace of yours, together, collectively, and all he could do was shortly laugh at the situation before him.
roommate!alan who greets you in the morning with a strange smirk as you made yourself breakfast.
"i can see why your job is physically draining now." "hm?" you yawned. "what are you talking—"
roommate!alan who pulls out a cucumber from the fridge, and cuts it into thin slices for his morning smoothie.
"i-i can explain—""you can make it up to me tonight."
he popped a slice into his mouth after.
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nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. and if you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!
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satoruhour · 7 months
Note
HIHII hope you are doing well!!!
I have a request but if you're not comfortable writing it's completely fine too!!
Anyways~ can you write something with University professor geto x top student reader??? They have a lot of sexual tension and geto continuously targets the reader in his lectures only for her to storm into his office after a test in which he didn't give her the marks she deserved just so he could piss her off and eventually leading them to blow off some steam together hehe-
HEJSJSH ANYWAYS I HOPE YOU HAVE A GREAT REST OF THE DAY💗💗
-🍒
I GOT THAT DUMB D*CK !
a/n: hi cherry 2! saying 2 because i already have another cherry anon, thank u for waiting for this btw sorry this took so long omggg!!! i wanna make it similar to the short blurb i did here, but ill leave out reader being a camgirl! a lot of lore talk, just a warning
wc: 8k (sigh ....)
warnings: so much lore lol sorry, no beta we die like men, age gap (32 / 24), professor!geto, fem!reader, geto is also a cam worker, masturbation (both f and m), toy use during f! masturbation (vibrator), fantasising, pet names, praise, degradation, use of ‘slut’ and ‘whore’, oral (m receiving, f receives briefly at the end), dumbification (ig?) face-fucking, deep-throating, spitting in mouth, unprotected sex, creampie / breeding kink, cum eating, implied multiple rounds, n*sfw under the cut
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no one could really pinpoint the reason why professor geto had picked on you, called you out so much, and why you entertained the incessant questions. it was unbecoming of a prof., he knew, it was never smart to favour one person (negatively, in this case) in a room of bright students who could read between the lines. but he just feels himself so drawn to your furrowed eyebrows and words laced with venom, because at the end of the day, he can see that you aren’t all talk.
you challenge his views and you do it in a way that catches him off-guard. you propose insane arguments that you willingly would die at the grave just to find evidence for; or it could just be because he was staring too much at the way your mouth moved and your eyes expressed everything to pay attention to your words, finding that you were just too beautiful to be chasing a linguistics degree.
this was another thing: geto suguru could possibly have anyone he wanted. he was fine. shoulders pulled back in proper posture, hair either tied up fully or just halfway, and always, always wearing shirts with sleeves that reach his wrist. to that, everyone could see just how bulked the man was, top looking too tight all the time.
geto knew he was fine, too, because on top of (and before) being a professor, he found that he could get a good amount of money by just streaming — camera propped below his neck and obviously tight button-up shirt discarded to reveal his tattooed body, while he has his legs spread and the thirsty, horny comments flooding in on the platform. it’s been a norm by now, started from his uni days where he needed some extra money to support his fees and living necessities.
one year turned into two, two years turned into stagnancy during his third and fourth years (save for a few occasional streams), and up came a little funny graduation stream suggested by his best friend. geto had spent a good half ’n hour talking about his time in university and thanking his viewers, changing up the setting almost immediately by showing hard he was.
[uzum4kisl0ver]: YEAAAH we’re getting to the good stuff, thank u for feeding us so well these few years uzumaki-san!!
[minstash96]: Congrats on graduating Uzumaki-san!! I rmb joining during your third year and found out from everyone u were getting busier </3 but Im glad youre back again!!!
[g_bigdick_s]: fellas is it gay to support your best friend’s graduation jerking off stream
the flood of “yes”’s replying to gojo made the streamer laugh, thankful that his best friend had listened a little and at least changed gojobigdicksatoru to just his “G.S.” initials to avoid people finding his LinkedIn. from there, geto had gotten into the true nature of his stream easily, fishing out his cock to stroke and loving the sounds of tips coming in, the name of his alias Uzumaki continually commented. since then, it’s become a side hustle — finishing his masters, training to become a professor, it’s all natural to him, taking even further steps to make sure he isn’t found out.
exactly, he could have anyone he wanted — a fan from his streaming account, or one of satoru’s regular fwb’s but instead he finds himself drawn to someone else, you, the second year student in his bilingualism and multilingualism module that he has no trouble teaching despite his freshly employed status.
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at the start of the week, the gods decided thought it would be funny to delay the campus bus that would take you to the english department for a consultation session with your professor. you couldn’t focus in lectures due to bad cramps, you were behind on your non-major related courses, the bad luck just seemed to seep into one day after another. you had woken up late, putting on a terrible outfit that no one really cared about, except your professor who just had a smirk on his face.
“if you notice, runes were created as they were spoken — spelt as they are said which almost look like ‘pictographs’,” prof. geto switches to the next slide with the runes and their meanings alongside a jumble of symbols that send the whole class into hysterics, “can anyone sound out the phonetics of these runes to me? hint: even though i said they look like pictographs, the first rune is definitely not an E.”
he was known for asking questions during lectures, pleased with anyone that would even try because he knew how quiet lecture theatres could get. he was exactly like that in university, too, letting satoru take all the attention due to the many unknown people in the same room. now, he found that asking the questions was a little entertaining, seeing the way students look back down at their laptops and avoid eye contact. but he doesn’t need to do anything and his body is already turnt towards you. he’s not even pointing physically, which he thinks he’s done a good job of restraining himself.
ᛊᛃᚨᚾᛖᛚ
“the words and names should be as they sound — so ‘s’ or ᛊ should translate into a ‘c’ since they didn’t have a C back then and it’s the closest sound to C. ᛃ can’t be ‘h’ because of the usage of H in hagl . . its pronunciation is different and plus, we’ll spell it how we say it, so maybe it’s ‘j’?” you mutter to yourself, an urge to answer the quickest, always. you aren’t sure where this streak came from, but you’ve been smart always, “sja . . it either can be chanel or channel since there’s a rule you can’t use the same rune twice in succession . .”
professor geto already knows you’d be the first to answer, raising your hand even without looking since you were still calculating the other four letters which you put together fairly quickly.
you take the safest route, “chanel, with one N.”
geto clicks his tongue and sucks in a breathe, “so close, miss (y/n), but it’s because i cheated a little on my part.” you can feel your blood boil and the grimaces of other students when he switches to the next slide and there’s a little grin on his face. it says — ‘there is no distinction between capital and small runes, nor can you use the same rune twice continually.’
“you are right, partially, but i did want to drive home the point,” which he’s sure you already know. “that words with two N’s or L’s or whatever, would only show up in the runic language as only one character.” your face morphs into something of annoyance and the grin on professor geto’s face only widens — that defiant, headstrong nature is something he loved, but the grin drops a little when he imagines something . . out of the classroom. his pants tighten.
you mirror him, clicking your tongue and reluctantly taking down the note in your documents before sinking into your chair — not even chō, you friend, could find the proper words to comfort you. you spend the rest of the lecture, sulking, unwillingly answering his incessant questions with a scowl on your face and a headache forming.
this never stops—
“miss (y/n)?” one-on-one meetings were the bane of your existence, but it was the only way to connect with your professors properly — here, geto calls you to talk about your latest essay where you were the last on the roster. by then, everyone has filed out with nobara waiting for you just outside the classroom.
“don’t have to call my name, i’m the only one here.” you mutter under your breath, and geto feels a little annoying today.
“what was that?”
“nothing—”
he hums, scooting his chair closer once you sit, and while you find the gesture a little weird, you’re overcome with just how good he smells and it only fuels your hatred more. it’s no fair that he’s so . .
“miss (y/n).” you sigh with an apology, frankly not ready to hear how he’d be attacking your essay. it was written on a rushed timeline, you didn’t cite your sources properly, you knew some criticism was warranted as much as you didn’t like to hear it from your professor’s mouth.
“. . you do know you can’t just rely on your brain, right?” geto speaks softly and you feel your heart flutter at his tone. he points to the places where you forget your in-text citations.
“but professor, information about syntax and phonetics just comes like second nature . .” you mumble, ignoring how he closes his eyes and hisses, “and all the sources on the internet say different things.”
“then just find a reliable one.”
you tsk, taking the paper from him and flipping to the next page, “well, i did one here.” the paper makes a sound when you press your finger into it, aware of how close you are. from here you can feel the heat radiating off his body, unconsciously rubbing your thighs together.
“too long ago, needs to be within five years.” geto’s lying through his teeth.
“no, it does not!” you pull back and look at him incredulously. ah, the feeling’s gone, “not in language related papers, at least!”
“but that claim was from the 2000’s, miss (y/n), for all we know it could’ve been resolved by then.”
“then why didn’t you say anything about chō’s scholar article from the 1990’s?” you’re standing up, now, furrowed eyebrows depicting the very thing you feel: confusion, agitation at being treated like this. given you weren’t in the best condition when you wrote this essay, but you still gave it your all.
“her argument was about the interconnectedness between the romance languages — yours,” he punctuates while leaning back in his chair. you don’t like how your eyes flit down to his lap, but you’re forced to look up when he stands up too, “is about the use of ciphers in comparison to an immature language developed on the internet that created in the 2019s. any scholar claim before that would be void.”
your blood boils just like that day. alas, he had a good point, but like always, the gentle slit of his eyes and the all-knowing smile didn’t match the bullying he was laying on you and you despise it.
even! even, as you notice how there’s probably less than a inch between your faces as you puff out your chest to look more intimidating and yet geto suguru towers over you. and even when your heart beats loudly in your ears, feeling his hot breath fan over your own face while you don’t miss how he licks his lips and glances down to yours not-so-secretly.
you swallow at the silence, until there’s the annoying notification of his Outlook cutting the tension and soon you’re snatching the essay from him, walking to where your bag is. although you want to let your anger overflow, all you say is a tame, “noted. thanks, prof” with a glare, eye twitching.
you made sure to slam the classroom door with shaky hands . .
. . but you’re not very good at capping your rage. “i swear to god! he better fucking check his mirror and admire himself because soon i’m going to beat him up so bad that everyone can’t recognise him.” geto’s lips turn up in a small smirk at your flared expression he just witnessed — he just loves your dirty mouth and he finds himself thinking of it more and more often.
chō only can tut, “so you find him attractive?”
“what? how the hell did you infer that from my rant?” you scoff, shoving her to the side, not aware that your whispered outburst is heard as he’s packing up. he simply enjoys looking at you walk away through the glass slit of the door, hips swaying unknowingly.
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“bad news, guys,” geto, or rather Uzumaki, sighs on screen, adjusting so the lens of the camera rested just below his collarbones. easily, his chat fills up with a mixture of horny comments and genuine questions, chuckling to himself as he unbuttons his shirt. he feels more like a sinner at this point, suddenly flustered with the confession he’s about to make.
“i think i’ve taken quite a liking to someone,” geto hums, hands going to his trousers to palm his bulge. he had to get home immediately after that, cancelling his meetings for the day. with a single text to gojo, the white-haired man was excited to hear everything about this new person, thankful that his best friend will finally not be alone.
[g_bigdick_s]: TELL US! TELL US!!!! TELL US!
but professor geto is lost instantly, imagining you as he massages his erection. thinking about your anger transforming into pleasure, into obedience for him as he forces your mouth down on his cock. oh . . how’d your mouth and hands feel, how’d your pussy feel.
geto groans, already removing his dick from the constraints, and pumping it to full length. he doesn’t even talk much, only the endless comments and tips reminding him he was still on live. spitting on his hand, he wraps his hand around himself again, thumbing the tip and hoping it’d be your tongue swirling around it.
what would you look like on your knees, taking each inch of his cock down your throat? would he be able to wipe the defiance off your face? would he be able to fuck his smart student, dumb?
“you need a good destress, woman,” chō suggests over the phone, voice a bit uneven due to it being stuck in between her shoulder and ear, “go on camstar or something, i’m sure you’ll find something hot there.”
“chō, i am not going on a porn streaming website! i’ll very much settle for my smut fics, thank you.”
“boo, don’t you get bored? i get that normal adult industry videos are super inaccurate but . . when was the last time you’ve watched an unfiltered, unedited jerk off vid? that’s the hottest.”
you scoff, “yeah, like you would know, miss complain-whenever-you-get-dick-pics.”
“that’s because it’s unsolicited! plus all the men who send me pics have ugly dicks. if anything i’m more open to get unsolicited pussy pics rather than consensual dick pics at this point.” your friend nonchalantly says, spreading her fingers to look at her manicured nails, “but anyway, prof geto is on your ass too much lately. maybe he wants to get in your pants?”
you don’t recoil at the suggestion as much as you expect to and you’re puzzled at that — “please never say that again.” just as you’re saying this, you’re typing in camstar.org even though you told yourself not to but deep down, you know that you’ve been craving more than just twitter links and porn with plot stories. on the front page, you’re seeing a video thumbnail of a guy with a fairly big . . feature, countless tattoos lining his body while you can catch a faint glimpse of his long hair in the dark room — it’s the only one that draws you in, other streams merging into a blur.
chō’s voice fades off when you notice just how popular the stream is, cursor hovering over the title (“just a ramblefap, need to release some tension”) almost tempting you to click.
“okay, will get back to you,” succumbing to your needs, you shamelessly grab your vibrator just as she cheers into the phone. you can hear that’s my girl! on the other side as you stifle a smile, bidding a goodbye before you settle into bed. from there, you do what you always do: relax for a few, slow your breathing, get yourself wet a little—
click.
The stream you have attempted to view has ended a minute ago. We apologise for the inconvenience caused. View more livestreams below:
you shove the vibrator under your pillow and bury your head into it, screaming.
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“i mentioned in yesterday’s lecture that Latin evolved from the dialects of the Italic peoples of ancient Italy, or Latium, a region in central western Italy. over time, Latin absorbed elements from other languages, such as Etruscan and Greek, and it became the main language of the western Mediterranean.” professor geto rambled on in classic geto fashion — it was his passion that made him so easy to listen to, as with the many enamoured girls with googly eyes and the guys who wish they could carry themselves the way geto did.
you’d say the same thing: his love for his subject of study made him attractive — charming even — as much as you didn’t want to admit to your friend, but you’d be more open with your attraction like everyone is if he wasn’t—
[9:52am, (y/n) -> chō 💟] so fucking annoying and cocky and picking on me all the time!!!!!! im soooo sick of him im so serious omfg ....
but today, he’s looking less at you and more at other students, or even marvelling at the terrible paint job of the classroom as he goes from slide to slide. he talks about the derivation in which French separates from Latin, borrowing similar spellings and meanings from the old language while separating the way they are spoken.
“French is the most divergent of the romance languages because of strong Gallic and Frankish influences. The Celtic Gauls spoke a language similar to Old Dutch but adopted Latin as the Romans invaded Gaul.” you don’t even have to look at him to get him thinking of lewd things, spiralling into his fantasies ever since last night. geto is a little fatigued, too, having lost sleep over his fucking student which he just can’t help bothering. excitement at having you in class before is now turning into dread with every week that passes, and this week is just one instance.
“uh— i-i know you guys aren’t well-versed in either, but with your knowledge of both languages,” geto pulls at his tie. he feels hot, “discuss with your tutorial groups, the differences between the two and list down examples. just come up with one difference, but preferably name a few instances.”
[10:01am, (y/n) -> chō 💟] wish u were here im so bored 😭😭 profs acting so weird today tho
[10:01am, chō 💟 -> (y/n)] is he looking hot and bothered, nervous ??? like he wants to cry? im tellin you he wants you fr
of course she’d come out of her sickness-induced sleep just to bother you about him having the hots for you.
[10:02am, (y/n) -> chō 💟] you’re so ... i swear pls shut up he may want me but i do NOT want him
[10:03am, chō 💟 -> (y/n)] not even while you were just ranting about how his side profile looked a little too good in lecture yesterday?? anyway i hope you’ll be able to get that nut tn 🙏🏼 that guy on camstar sounded hot asf
[10:04am, (y/n) -> chō 💟] ikr i cant believe i got cockblocked by a fuckin livestream ending 💀 thank you fr i need it atp
“any progress here?” he comes out behind you and you slam the phone so hard you give the both of you a scare while your other friends exchange giggles with each other. what you don’t know, is how his arm is positioned upon the back of your chair and his whole body hovers just beside yours. you’re threatened to look, but you know if you do, you’d be falling deeper into the pit that you promised yourself not to fall into.
“yup, we’re just discussing things about how in terms of grammar, French has conjugation but almost no declension. but— uh, it rather uses word order to express some of the intricacies that Latin expresses through word endings.”
you can see geto nod from your peripheral, “good. good answer, any examples to show me?”
your friends nod towards you since you’re usually the one with all the information about different languages. they aren’t foreign to the way geto keeps calling on you to answer him, too, so you shouldn’t have any problem with this, right?
wrong. you’re stuttering through your answer, turning your head finally and being met with the sight of prof geto looking down on you like a deer caught in headlights. you think that being in lecture theatres, sitting near to the back and your hatred in general has desensitised you to the beauty of your professor, because being under him like this makes your core pulse uncomfortably and your voice shaky.
“. . hm? what was that?”
“i was uhm— saying how— uh,” the way geto nods at you makes you more nervous, painting you as someone who someone who had all bark and no bite, but the other knows very well that you had a nasty bite. you’re smart and witty, pretty, hot as fuck, and if anything, it’s taking everything in geto not to bend you over and show you your place in this very classroom in front of everyone, too.
“little lady got nothin’ for me today?” geto purses his lips and lets his teasing side take over, an easy-going smile taking over his features that you just want to kiss and slap off at the same time. wait.
“i didn’t get enough sleep because i was too busy trying to rewrite the damn essay you said i had outdated and missing sources for,” you speak through gritted teeth, feeling a mixture of arousal and pure rage for the man hovering over you.
geto juts his lip out in a pout, face getting dangerously close to yours and challenging you. he just hopes your two friends won’t say anything, “well, darling, if you picked an easier topic to argue about, you wouldn’t be doing that, would you?”
“well, sorry i’m always trying to outdo myself. are you, professor geto? what with your boring suits and black and white slide designs?”
you click your tongue and turn back to your phone to pull up your chat with chō while geto takes a deep breath, desperately hoping the hard-on wouldn’t show through his slacks. your other two friends only giggle even more at the exchange, because for the rest of the class, professor geto is on edge, unable to teach coherently.
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[11:17pm, chō 💟 -> (y/n)] YOU DID WHAAAAATTTTT...???? GIRL YOU SAID THAT???!!!!!!
[11:18pm, (y/n) -> chō 💟] bro what if i get expelled.. i shouldnt have but he was pissing me off so much... i did put an apology in the end tho
by then, you’ve already submitted your rewritten essay, putting in a short note at the end for your behaviour in class. although you don’t take it back, you’re still trying to play it safe especially with how much you paid to get into university. you scroll along camstar, bored out of your mind and hoping to find something as compelling as the inked guy from last week, but nothing really draws you in. until you’re refreshing the page, and just like the previous time, the popularity of that same bulking guy seems to push his video to the top.
and finally, before you’re clicking into the video, you check out his profile: in his early thirties, started this account when he was 24 and in university. you smack your lips at that — he’s been doing this for almost ten years? that’s dedication. in curiosity, you scroll down his account, seeing the progression of which this guy built up his figure and tattoos that litter his body. he’s kept the same format, camera showing his body chest down until you’re lazy to scroll more, a little disappointed in not being able to find any indication of his face.
you think that maybe you saw a glimpse of that wrist tattoo that matched the tattoo on your professor’s wrist, but you could just be imagining things.
“alright guys . .” the man on the screen huffs, clothes already discarded to get straight to the point, and you’re recording a small snippet of the same guy you told chō about. “had a rough day today.”
the onslaught of comments going i can make u feel better!!! Take ur anger out on me Uzumaki-san makes you sputter and laugh, sending that video first before you’re taking another. your attention is stolen for a moment, seeing chō react with emojis to your video message (“let’s see what emails i got today, huh?”), but the structure of sentences that the man speaks soon brings you out of jollity and into shock.
“how cute, an essay sent straight to my email.” geto wants to do anything but look at emails right now, but ever since he’s gotten your rewritten assignment, it’s all he’s wanted to check out if it wasn’t for the many meetings and errands he had to run today. “yadda yadda . . oh?”
“i’m sorry for today’s lesson,” purposely pausing to leave out his name, geto continues on, “i shouldn’t have reacted in that way no matter the situation.” a smirk forms on his face while your body fills with dread. in your panic, you pull up your own document whilst catching all of this on camera, tracking each word as the man on camstar.org continues to say out your apology word by word.
and then bit by bit, you’re making out how the man behind the camera might, just might be your linguistics professor. the broad shoulders, the jawline, the long hair, the manspread . .
but even with your heightened combination of excitement and revelation, you don’t click away, blindly sending the video to your friend and then shamefully digging under your pillow to grab your vibrator.
“teaching people is so difficult sometimes, guys,” he grunts, pulling down his underwear and revealing his already hard cock. he lets out a shaky sigh as he wraps a hand around his shaft, “you usually get the people who won’t do any work, the ones who are absent half the time — usually they go hand in hand.”
professor geto laughs and you twitch at the lovely sound. “but . . there’s this one girl . . in my classes— f-fuck.”
you’re entranced, watching your professor masturbate in front of thousands of people who possibly didn’t know a thing about this man while you try to get your jaw off the floor, “who is entirely different from these categories.”
“she’s smart,” geto groans out and you watch transfixed as he starts to pump himself, hips grinding up into his palm, “she’s so smart that i’d want to get to know her one day and just talk about anything.”
“s-she’s so fucking attractive, too, you guys won’t even— oh goddd . .” you feel like you’re being watched, so you’re careful with how you’re putting your vibrator to your core and once you start it, the moan that leaves you lines up with geto’s deeper groans. it turns you on so damn much.
with his head tilted back, he’s long gone as he moves his hands faster and faster, the slick noises of his pre-cum and spit mixing in together — geto only wishes he could act on his desires once the course was over, but knows you’ll probably be mortified at the prospect. at least here, he can imagine that it’s your mouth or cunt doing all the work.
“s-shitttt . .” the professor sounds out, hissing when he thumbs his tip and even more pre comes spilling out and while you watch, you’re hypnotised by the beautiful moans in its perfect cadence and the thickness of his cock. by now his chest is heaving and he’s holding onto his bedsheets so tight you wish it was your thighs.
“i want to fuck her silly, fuck all of those stupid facts out of her head and get her dumb on my cock,” geto whines, hips fully bucking up now while you press your vibrator deeper into your clit. you’re left wondering how his mouth would feel, to shut him up by pressing him into your cunt until he can’t breathe, soak his stupid fucking suits, “want to hear her moan my name.”
you whimper at all the things professor geto swears he wants to do to you, grinding into your hand while he speeds up as well. he doesn’t speak, simply stroking himself as he thighs tense up and he squeezes his shaft with head full of visions of you in terribly lewd positions, making disgusting sounds, and all for him. it isn’t long before geto cums with a loud drawn out moan, shooting his cum onto his torso with a sigh before taking a sticky hand to his lips, licking it off — “i’d want to see my cum dripping out of her one day.”
that sends a chill down to your core, biting your pillow before you release softly all over your hand and vibrator; you spend the rest of the night watching professor geto’s other videos.
[12:32am, chō 💟 -> (y/n)] oh. OH..........
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“i should’ve just taken an off-day today, i do not want to get back our results.” chō rubs at her eyes and temples, wanting anything to do with the return of test marks, but unfortunately it was the week after midterms and it was inevitable, “don’t need to ask you though, you’re probably not worried at all.”
“trust me, i am,” you bite the inside of your cheek. it’s been at least . . two weeks after that whole debacle, and despite your intense vents with your friend and the continuous picking on by prof. geto, nothing out of the blue was happening. except, maybe, your growing physical need for your professor and your simultaneous, increasing hatred for him.
“it’s only midterms — you don’t need to worry too much since it doesn’t contain a high percentage. what you should be focusing on are your finals. we’ll work on your shortcomings and mistakes here so you guys will do the best when the time comes.”
and when professor geto comes around to hand you your test, all you do is glare up through your lids, taking it from him before feeling your whole world crumble.
“a B+?!” your mouth gapes open at the blatant 65/100 mark that glares back at you. you know that you would’ve gotten anything but a 65, willing yourself to study harder and harder just to rub it in his pretty little face that you weren’t falling behind in his class. at this point it’s got to be personal, so soon, you’re packing up your things angrily with the intent to storm his office after your other classes.
it’s late in the afternoon when you finally finish your other tutorials on a short fuse, him clearly getting ready to head home by the darkness of his office when you shove your way through the door.
professor geto is sat in a laid-back position, tie hung on the hooks installed in the office and a few buttons are unbuttoned, revealing the very familiar tattoos you’ve become acquainted with.
“to who do i owe the pleasure?”
“cut the crap, prof.,” you scowl, using your foot to slam the office door close. despite the late nights being buried in your sheets, you won’t let yourself be treated like this, “i deserved anything but a 65 on midterms.”
geto tilts his head, sitting up and gesturing out to you; you realise he wants to see your test paper.
“ah!” with a finger, he makes a show of finding for your obvious mistakes which was minimal — but the way he marks obnoxiously tells you everything you need to know, “here. your comprehension of the similarities between Latin and Ancient Greek was too surface level, you didn’t explain why—”
“i. did!” you press down into the paper like the first time, leaning over his table and reading out the exact answer you wrote just a few days ago, “here, since your blind ass wants to act like i wasn’t answering the question.” you push yourself into his desk more, eyes levelled with his. you dare him to say something smart.
“well, your explanation of the six cases in Latin left out the locative, the last one, and there were some problems in the conjugation that the test asked of you.”
“bullshit. show me, if you’re so confident.”
professor geto knows he’s hit a dead-end. he was telling lies, full of it, but he’s enjoying every second of the anger that translates into your features, of the growl in your voice. he leans back further the more you close in on him.
“nothing, right? so tell me, do you hate me that much?”
geto simply laughs, crossing his arms and reminiscing on the many nights he’s spent doing anything but.
“quite the opposite, sweetheart.” the name catches you off-guard for a moment, but your sour face returns soon enough.
“then what the fuck do you think you’re doing, picking endlessly on a student?”
your professor sits forward, prompting you to cower back. you think it’d be good to bring up whatever he’s got going on on camstar.org but you’ll wait to a good moment before you say anything about your trump card, until geto snaps you out of your stupor by towering over you. the sheer difference makes you swallow.
“because i like seeing you flared up and angry and mad.” professor geto surprises you with each second, the nonchalance in which he said it, the stupid, attractive smirk on his face. now’s the time.
you compose yourself, thinking of the best way to phrase this, “you know you’re not entirely safe, either, you know. i could report you with the frequency in which you’re picking on me.”
you point a finger to his chest, thinking you could get him to lay off immediately with this as much as you were hoping he wouldn’t. the attention was unwarranted but not entirely . . terrible, “that wouldn’t look so good on your record, right, Uzumaki-san?”
you relish in the surprise that seeps into geto’s pretty features but it’s a short-lived victory when he goes back into a relaxed state, expression neutral — “so you know.”
“know . . what?” your professor pulls away and walks around his desk, finally in close proximity to you like he’s always wished.
“how badly i want you.” he whispers, but doesn’t go past that, rather letting you figure everything out for yourself.
“‘. . fuck her silly, fuck all of those stupid facts out of her head’, right?” you mumble softly, not admitting to even chō that you had watched that livestream over and over enough to memorise the few sentences. geto wraps an arm around your waist to tug you closer, faces so close that you could just shut him up.
“go on.”
“you want me to go dumb on your cock,” professor geto mutters a correct which undeniably sends a thrill to your core.
“you want to hear me to moan your name.” “—want to hear her moan my name.”
a small smile spreads across his face (even if you left out the most important thing) as he finishes his own sentence with you, eyes clouded over with lust and your scent and he’s positive he can smell your soaked panties from here if he tries hard enough.
“that’s right.”
“sooo . .” by god, you fucking hated the man, but seeing someone stroke their cock to just the thought of you — how could you pass off such a good opportunity? “do you prefer professor geto, or suguru?”
geto groans at his first name usage, setting you on his desk and presses himself into you at the sound of papers flying to the floor, stationary falling to the ground. he can only hope no one walks in. he’s fully hard, loving how your legs naturally spread for him.
“whatever you want, baby.” and after, it’s all history with the way geto crashes his lips into yours, letting you pull at his jacket and shirt, practically ripping open the buttons to see his tattoos that you’re begging to see. slowly, he lets you trace them while he kisses down your neck, roughly pulling your sweater off of you. you have the cutest tits, packaged nicely in your bra which he has no trouble taking off. there’s a small sound that escapes his mouth when he unclasps your bra and your breasts come falling out.
“didn’t tell me you had such a nice pair . .” you giggle.
“yeah, like i would straight up tell my professor that.” with a hand, your hand follows the ink of his dragon that wraps around his body and torso, right down to his happy trail, “but i mean, you get the honour of seeing it now.”
with a squeeze to his bulge, you whisper, “maybe i’ll let you fuck them next time.”
geto lets out a little moan, “fucking minx,” before he latches his mouth onto your nipple, kneading the other greedily. a soft moan leaves your mouth as you knead his erection, a culmination of your combined groans in the quiet office. soon he’s giving attention to the other, a hand trailing down into your panties where he rubs your clit to test the waters, and he smiles into your skin at the way your hand falters and your head hangs forward.
“p-professor . .” it’s clear geto can’t wait, because he pushes a finger into you easily with how dripping wet you are, panties showing a dark patch of your juices. “s— so thick—”
“i know, baby, gotta stretch you out,” a soft pop! is heard as he comes off your nipple before he meets your lips in a sloppy kiss. he shoves his tongue into your mouth the moment he pushes a second finger in and he swallows your moans, letting you feel around his body to dig your nails in — it was just too damn much.
“so— suguru, your f-fingers, they’re so—” even with your protests, your hips grind up against his thick fingers that are pumping in and out of you, taking every last piece of fire in you as you succumb completely.
“what, miss (y/n)?” geto memorises the exact way all your previous blazing words are reduced to mere mewls and whimpers, alongside your pleas for more, more, more.
“i need something—” you whine when he pushes all the way inside, stretching your cunt so well as you clench around him like a vice and sucking him in, “i wanna make you feel good—”
you get at least a little resolve in the time it took you to say that, drunkenly unbuckling his belt before pulling his cock out. his tip is positively leaking, fingers curling instinctively in your pussy and your moans mingle together again.
“c’mon, prof, please?” geto tuts, reluctantly removing his fingers from your cunt which he wish he could spend more of his time in, but gives in to you as you switch positions, pushing him against his own desk. from there you’re going to your knees, marvelling at the cock you’ve watched on your very own screen.
“better than you imagined?”
you roll your eyes, “shut up or i’m blue-balling you.”
geto exhales forcefully, cut off when you put your mouth gently over his tip. you suckle on it like a pacifier, swirling your tongue around the mushroom head and looking up at him through your lashes; the sight is heavenly. the hair from his bun had fallen out, framing his pleasure-filled face, and the veins on his arms pop out so much from how harshly he’s grabbing the wood.
“f-fuck, baby . .” his words are lost once you start bobbing your head, encasing his shaft deep in your mouth as you suck and lick and slobber over his thick cock, using your hands to stroke the places you can’t reach. a choked moan weasels itself out of geto when one of your hands deviate to play with his balls, squeezing lightly at the sack while you continue to lick the underside of his length.
“take me like a slut, don’t you?” geto says breathlessly, fingers going through your hair to gather the strands into a makeshift ponytail, cradling your head to guide your mouth, but he soon starts to thrust into your waiting mouth.
“want me to fuck your dirty whore mouth?” your professor asks and you hate how much it turns you on as he brings you off to let you breathe for a moment. you stick out your tongue, big doe eyes just pleading to be used as your hands anchor themselves down to his belt loops.
“y—yes, prof., give me everything you got,” geto hums, seemingly satisfied with your answer as he taps your tongue with his tip, cock so heavy and thick it makes you whine a little before he shoves it in without warning. the moan that rumbles deep in your throat sends vibrations up his body and he starts a pace immediately.
“that’s it, that’s it—” you breathe through your nose as geto face fucks you, two hands covering the back of your head as he thrusts into your throat. your mouth’s just so damn warm and tight it has geto groaning non-stop while your eyes start to well up with tears. he uses you like a cocksleeve, abusing your throat each time his tip meets with it.
“fuuuckk— yes, yes, your throat’s so—” geto tilts his head back when he buries his cock in you, the deepest he’s ever been and your nose meets with his pubes, the smell of his musk and sweat making your eyes roll back in pleasure. suguru is all grunts before moving again, the gagging, gawking noises filling the small space.
“mmhm— mmf!” you moan around his length, trying your best to move your tongue along the underside of his cock. a hand goes down to quell the growing need of your cunt, slipping a finger or two in.
“dirty girl just can’t think straight when she has a— s-shit— cock in her, huh?”
you hum in agreement, eyes fluttering when you feel his tip twitch in your mouth and geto spills right into your throat with a long moan. your lids flutter close, taking as much cum as you can before coming off with a deep breath. strings of his cum and your saliva connect you to his cock, the lewdness of it all showing clearly in how sloppily you sucked your professor off.
“open.” and you show your tongue still full of his cum, taking the opportunity to lean down to let a ball of spit fall from his mouth. it drops painfully slow to your tongue, closing it only when you hear the rasp of swallow, “good girl.”
“think i’ve kept you waiting for too long, need to be in you,” geto brings you up by your upper arms, propping you up nicely onto his desk where you already start to leak into the wood, “do you want me to be in you?”
“only if you promise to stop picking on me, prof.,” you pout. really, a changed girl once you get some cock, huh?
“but you’re too cute not to bother, baby.” your pout deepens and geto feels a tug on his heart. oh, you were too adorable, knowing you’d kill him the next time he mentions this. he hopes they’ll be a next time.
“i mean it, suguru,” you murmur as he uses his tip to play with your juices, smearing it around your cunt. “treat me like a proper person.”
“can i at least treat you like a slut behind closed doors?”
you bit your lip, he’s asking for a next time, and who are you to reject him?
“whatever you want, professor,” you wiggle your hips along his cock, hoping for some friction which he grants to you with no problem, “use me. treat me like your cum dump.”
geto hisses at your tightness and your words as he bottoms out in you. he’s had your pussy once and already cannot get enough of you, moaning each time he moves in and out of your cunt. your walls hug him so snugly, sucking his cock in endlessly.
“baby, baby, baaaby . . your pussy’s so fuckin’— good—” he grunts into your ears, hips starting to thrust slowly into you. he swears he can see you in your tummy, asking you to look down, “look at how deep i am in you, sweetheart.”
you moan at just how big he was as you glance down, but you’re more focused on the way your pussy spreads for him, the cute veins on his length as he moves in you. you’re leaking so much that it’s effortlessly, the way he rams into you.
“sugu— suguru . . mmfuck—” geto groans upon feeling you rub your clit, your own hips bucking needily into his own as your juices start to drip down his balls. this was everything that he hoped would happen; your features morphed into pleasure, you descending into stupidity just from some dick, feeling your pussy, finally.
“hear yourself?” your professor proposes the question and you’re confused for a moment until he slows down and you whine at the sudden change, brought to attention just how soaking you were. the soft shlick, shlick, shlick sounds take your breath away, as with the translucent sheen of your juices coating his cock.
there, your professor resumes his pace, “hear how fuckin’ sloppy this pussy is for me. listen to her,” your senses are all overwhelmed: by how he hits all your sweet spots, the sweat on your back, your fast-beating heart and you let out a mangled whimper, “yesss . . that’s what i like to hear.”
geto smirks at how you can’t even answer, picking up his pace into a regular one. with his cock buried deep in you, you have no choice but to let your body move with his thrusts, jerking each time his balls meet your ass noisily.
“is this what the little lady needed? just some professor cock to get her to not be so damn uptight!”
“y—yessss . .” you’re delirious, “yesyesyes, suguru!” you squeal when he holds your legs up and pushes your legs into your chest, tongue lolling out at the deepness that he was in you.
“fucking slut,” geto mumbled, hips turning sloppy with fatigue taking over, but your cunt was just too good to stop, “where d’you want me to cum, baby?” he knows you’ll answer how he wants you to, especially after watching his livestream—
“i-inside— inside, pleaseplease,” the circles on your clit are messy, now, chasing your high more than ever, but your pussy is grasping onto him like a vice, prompting groans deep from his throat. “want your cum dripping out of me, prof—”
those words alone has geto shooting his load with a strangled grunt, switching to shallow, quick thrusts to pump you full of his cum. it comes out in hot, thick spurts, filling your insides more and more until it spills out the sides and you follow soon after, whole body convulsing from the intense orgasm you can’t stop shaking violently.
“take it— that’s it, attagirl,” he whines out, stroking his length to make sure you’re getting every last drop out of him, “take all my cum . .”
geto is sure he’s getting old by the way he feels lightheaded, having had to hold onto the edge of the table for a minute — but in that 60 seconds you’ve stumbled off the table and laid your chest over it, perking your ass up where your pussy continues to leak hot, white cum.
your professor takes one good look at your ass, hands going up to knead at them and spreads your cheeks. with his tongue, he eats his cum out of you, making your jerk at the sensitivity.
“oops, i’ve cleaned you up of my cum — guess i gotta give you a couple more loads,” geto props a leg up, eating you out, “it’s only right since my brightest student has suffered so much at my hands . .”
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tagging @arminsumi @shidouryusm @suguruplsr @crysugu @slttygeto @suget @sonarspace @marimogf @hannzai &lt;3 ok gn
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ricoka · 2 years
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YouTube can be fun but sometimes it also makes you want to throw your tv out the window
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kingthunder · 2 months
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I saw a few of those "bg3 characters driving a car" headcanons and decided to do one myself for fun.
Lae'zel: She learned how to drive on the opposite side of the road from everyone else and her instincts are all wrong for her current location, but back home she's an excellent driver with a spotless driving record. She actually follows the service schedule in the car manual. She gets incensed at people who don't maintain their vehicle properly or who disobey road rules. Her car is immaculately clean. She would love to speed a motorcycle down one of those desert highways with no speed limit, but she's never gotten the opportunity and knows it's too reckless besides. But she wants to.
Karlach: She's had a motorcycle for ages and is a skilled if aggressive driver. However, she only recently learned how to drive a car. She is very enthusiastic about it and always volunteers to drive even though she's not very good yet. She's one of those people that do driving "pranks" like swerving back and forth to make people shriek/laugh, or doing "3, 2, 1 BLASTOFF" and gunning it. Could easily be provoked into an impromptu street race. Drives way too far on empty or with the check engine light on.
Shadowheart: Drives stick so that no one else can drive her car. It's a beat up old station wagon with a busted tail light and looks like shit on the outside, but inside she turned it into a goth mobile with like black velvet seat covers and stuff. She named the car but she won't tell you what. She has an air freshener hanging from the rear view mirror that smells like night orchids. She's a perfectly good boring driver with nothing to note about it UNTIL one day a cop tries to pull her over for her busted tail light and she hits the gas and pulls out all these street racing moves that you had no idea she was capable of and shakes the cop. She'll let you pick the music but if she doesn't like it her silent disapproval is so withering that you voluntarily change it to something she does like.
Astarion: Never got a driver's license and isn't about to get one now. Passenger princess who likes to control the radio but his taste in music sucks. He makes funny mean comments about other drivers and pedestrians. He'll complain if you ask him to fill the gas tank but he'll do it; you're paying for it, though. Actually pretty fun to go on a road trip with because he doesn't care about stuff like "making good time" and he's up for stopping anywhere that looks like it might be entertaining.
Gale: Never got a driver's license because he was always too busy with his studies to care and his mom drove him around and/or did all his errands for him anyway. He's real good at maps though and likes to be helpful by being the navigator. He's the smartest man in the world but he's completely stymied by a gas pump; you're better off pumping the gas yourself and sending him into the gas station for snacks. He always manages to conjure a full meal out of convenience food, somehow, and he's really good at feeding you while you drive.
Wyll: He saved up and bought his own fixer-upper car after getting kicked out of the house as a teenager. Good driver in general. People always think he would make a good designated driver, but actually he likes drinking socially and will politely decline requests to be the DD unless there's no one else available. Sometimes when he's having a bad day he blasts music really loud and finds a deserted area to just fuckin tear ass down as fast as he can go (he'll only do this alone and doesn't tell anyone about it). Never lets you pay for gas even if you offer. Will pick up hitchhikers.
Halsin: Has been driving the same car since 1973. Drives that specific car really well. If you gave him a modern car he would have no idea what anything on the dashboard does. Honestly, he prefers to walk or bike anyway.
Jaheira: Has a fuck-off huge SUV full of empty cans and wrappers from her kids. Absolute maniac of a driver who tailgates and speeds with no regard for road signs or lane markings. She is going to GET where she is GOING and gods help you if you get in the way.
Minsc: Failed the driving test three times and just gets rides from Jaheira. This does not bother him in the slightest. He tells you that Boo can drive vehicles you've never even heard of.
Minthara: Has run someone over on purpose.
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shoyudon · 1 month
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𝐁𝐈𝐆 𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐎𝐍, 𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐎𝐍 .ᐟ
starring. toji fushiguro x fem! reader
heads up. cursing, toji being soft as hell, let's just say he's not an assassin and he lives a (fairly) good life with you.
note. toji's shown too much of a cold, hard, and stern guy in the few times he's been on screen. i feel like he's privately clingy — and he likes being the small spoon. just a thought.
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"hey, baby," you sighed out in exhaustion — dropping your bag onto the bed where toji was laid on, "i feel like 'm going to pass out soon."
toji grunted, but he sat up straight, eyeing your every move, "your boss is shit. that's why you need to quit and just sit still here at home," he mutters out, stretching his limbs.
"and who's going to pay for my stuff?" you ask, taking off your socks and throwing them inside the laundry basket just by the bathroom door — you unbuttoned your light blue flannel shirt, slipping it off in a rush before throwing the fabric inside the same basket.
"me. i work too." he scoffs.
"i know, i just don't feel great knowing my stuff was bought from the money coming out of my boyfriend's pocket," toji shifted on the bed, kicking the covers off of him.
he blew his bangs in annoyance, "so? 'ts not like 'm complaining, i want to do it."
smiling, you gave him a knowing look, "i know— 'ts just . . . i know i can buy my own stuff, you can save your money, for your own stuff. i don't want everything i have to come from your money, i feel awful," mumbling whilst swiping a wet cotton over the skin of your face, letting the make up seep in.
"your stuff is mine too," he steps behind you, taking a good look at what you're doing, "so stop thinking of shit like that."
"like what?" you nonchalantly asked.
toji rolled his eyes, grabbing your waist and proceeded to toss you onto the bed. with a soft thud, you landed — staring at him oddly, "why did you do that?"
"no reason." he mutters, crawling towards you before placing himself in front of you sideways; your chest pressing onto his back, "quit the damn work. you have a shit boss, shit co-workers, and shit work." small spoon.
slinging an arm around his neck and a leg draped over his torso, you chuckled softly, burying your nose into his hair, "you know i can't do that, right?" big spoon.
his body vibrated, signaling a groan out, "why the hell not?"
"come on, where else am i going to get my money from?" toji laced his fingers with your own, squeezing your hand tightly and then loosening his grip before tightening it back again — on repeat, "i know, baby. but what else am i going to do at home without you, hm?"
"i could care less about my shit work too." he spat out, bringing your hand to his lips.
"and then where are we going to live? pay rent? eat food?" you asked, voice lacing with amusement, "or how are we going to eat in our go-to without money, huh?"
toji huffs out softly, "as long as i'm homeless with you, i guess."
"you're silly, you know?" you squeezed his hand this time, although not as tightly as he did before, "but it all comes back to my first answer, 'm still not quitting my work."
toji shifted a bit, pressing his back onto your chest more, "can't stop ya', can i?"
"nope," he sighs out softly in response to the curt answer — which he expected, by the way.
"you're stubborn."
"right back at you," you murmur out into his hair, patting his chest a few times before consistently rubbing up and down; toji breathing out in content, "toji, can you move now?"
" . . . why?" he asks, voice hoarse and slow like he had just woken up.
"i need to shower. i stink," toji didn't budge at all upon hearing your answer. he was one of those people who believed that showers are a bit pointless — which is extra stupid (you think).
"do it tomorrow," he mutters out lazily.
"i wanna do it now, i feel sweaty," and there he goes pretending nothing was ever said; this always happens, especially when you were coddling him, "toji, move."
"no."
"move or you're getting the small spoon ban," toji scoots over a bit in response, letting you move freely as you like; somehow his no talk, action only made you stifle back a laugh, "you're a big baby."
"'m not, the position didn't feel nice or shit." he lies (not so) smoothly.
"right, i'll be back after the shower then we can cuddle again," you stood up, ready to leave when you hear him mumble incoherently under his breath, "what was that?"
"fuck, nevermind."
"right," you narrowed your eyes at him, "i'm going to go then."
just a few steps out of the bedroom door, you turned your heels and peeked your head into the room, "and by the way, yes, you still get to be the small spoon, don't worry."
"i still get to be the small spoon or whatever the fuck you call it, right?" loud and clear.
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© shoyudon 2024 . no copying or reposting allowed !
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callie-the-creator · 8 months
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the boy from second period
nsfw. mdni. warnings: yandere behavior, stalking, emo oc being delulu, mentions of self harm, brief smut but you’ll most likely miss it if you blink lol, you get the picture.
author’s note: the yandere in this is just an oc i whipped up for the sake of writing some yandere!emo boy hcs— 😭✋🏻 but if i’m being honest, this is more chronological hc stuff. from where he first met you to now.
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• elijah was never much of a romantic. in fact, he cursed the name of love…frequently. it was becoming more of a hobby as of late. he was exhausted tired of spending valentine’s day alone, having no one to spend time with during the holidays, or spending so much money on promposals or simply ask someone to a dance only to have them reject him…
— he swore that he wouldn’t lose himself and not develop some crush to save himself from the embarrassment of his affections getting denied. lord knows that he can’t handle rejection well, as he tries to open a vein every time he does…things were better this way.
• that was until a few weeks into his senior year when you suddenly moved from (your school name) to his: willowbrook high.
• he only knew you were new because in the middle of his second period, you came in with a schedule in hand, asking if this was english 11 with mrs. hadley…it was. of course it was.
— at first, elijah paid you no mind. he mentally sorted you into a category with how he saw the rest of his classmates. a waste of his time.
• it didn’t help that mrs. hadley decided it was a great idea to sit you with elijah, given that he sits at a table by himself in the corner of the room. he felt almost embarrassed when he was called out and it wasn’t like he could just say ‘no,’ especially not in front of all these people…so, he endured it.
• for now
⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹ ⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦
• what followed were two excruciatingly long weeks for poor elijah. the only times you two talked were brief. i mean it. 🥲
“hey!”
“…hello.”
“how are you doing?”
“fine. you?”
“i’m good. thanks for asking.”
• …and then fate had a funny way of twisting things! aka mrs. hadley assigned a partner project to the class, but the catch was that she already picked who people were going to be paired with and shockingly (yet he could see it coming from a mile away), you and elijah were picked to be each other’s partners.
— it flipped his world upside down, completely blindsiding him because this could only mean one thing: elijah was going have to step out of his comfort zone and to be forced to spend more time with you, primarily outside of school. yikes!
⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹ ⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦
• even though it took a little time, you and elijah started talking more, both outside and inside of school. it even got to the point where he feared that he had grown attached to you, but that’s just crazy talk!…right?
• he would even find himself stalking your socials to learn more about you as a person, so he knows what to not do casually bring up the next time he sees you
• he hated to pat himself on the back, but elijah has deemed himself as the first official friend that you’ve made ever since you came to willowbrook
— but this didn’t mean that he didn’t get jealous.
• you always had ideas on how you two could spend more time together such as giving each other playlists for song recommendations, going to the movies, things like that…but elijah didn’t like whenever you suggested doing something that concerned more than just each other’s company. crowds.
— he fucking hated crowds, mainly the school’s football games because it meant that your undivided attention wouldn’t constantly be on him.
— and it doesn’t help that you are oblivious to his blossoming crush on you and start to swoon over the cute band geeks or football players. elijah felt like a sore thumb, someone not worthy of your time…even though he knows deep down in his heart that you and him are meant to be together.
• if there is a point where he catches you talking with another guy, elijah will give him the nastiest look in all of existence.
— there are a few times where elijah has just flat-out lies to a few of your classmates and told them that you and him were dating just so they would back off. there have been lots of close calls.
• he’s one clingy bastard. he’ll admit that outright.
• after dropping you off at home, elijah will return to his house feeling pent up, and if that happens, he’ll l do one of two things:
use a sharp kitchen knife to carve your name into the thick of his pasty thigh. he will even make sure to cut a giant heart around it for extra gusto. and, yes…he does take photos of his beautiful work. he wants to send them all to you, desperately, but knows that they’ll only scare you off.
wank one off to some photos of you that you either posted or took himself, or into one of your undergarments that he was able to steal. still…his hand and your underwear pales in comparison to what pleasure you could give him. elijah wants to feel your warmth. cuddle you closely and whisper sweet nothings into your ear as he presses his naked body against yours.
• he wants you so bad…
⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹ ⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦
• unfortunately, all good things can’t last forever. the time for the project ended and as expected, you two passed with flying colors, but this didn’t mean that you and elijah stopped contacting each other completely, but it was…different. different from what it was.
— elijah didn’t like that. not one bit.
— he wants to be your boyfriend. he wants to be your boyfriend. he wants to be your boyfriend. he WANTS to be YOUR boyfriend!
• he has even taken up photoshopping as a hobby, so he can edit him into every single photo you have posted. oh, he can’t wait for the day where nothing but your beautiful face fills his camera roll.
— well…more than it does now anyway.
• that’s when he had an epiphany. there is a school dance coming up. as much as elijah didn’t want to blow through his money, he knew that you were worth it. all those lovely conversations you shared with him couldn’t be for nothing, right? you MUST like him back.
• and that’s how he spent the next few nights, thinking of ideas for the board and when he finally had an idea of what he could do, he wasted no time in making it for you.
• when elijah got to school, he made sure to ask you in the morning since he didn’t want to be holding the board the entire day.
• but…
• you immediately shook your head when he popped the magic question.
• he instinctively laughed at this, but not in a condescending way. he just didn’t understand why you were doing this to him. all eyes were on him, not you. you like him back, don’t you, so why are you toying with him?
• seeing that elijah clearly wasn’t getting the hint, you verbally say that you don’t want to go to the dance with him which causes him to freeze up like a scared goat.
• you’re shitting him, right? RIGHT?!
you. bitch.
you’re going to regret saying no to him.
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theprettynosferatu · 3 months
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I mean, it can’t hurt, right? Just… as an experiment. Yes, an experiment! I have been practicing a lot lately, after all. If someone had told me how hard it is to actually edge, to reach that perfect point and just… stop, I’m not sure I would have started doing it. But I AM getting better at it! If he could see me it would be sooo… but I’ll have another session soon, and I want to be able to tell him that I’m doing it, I’m following the program, that I’m doing well in therapy for once, that unlike all those other hacks he made me better…
I’m tired, and I know it’s harder for me to hold back when I’m tired… but at the same time I have to be able to control myself. That’s what he said. It’s all about impulse control or something… and if I fail and go over? No, I can’t be too hard on myself. But at the same time he would be disappointed. I don’t want to imagine that. Not that he ever tells me he is disappointed, but I can tell. I could almost imagine him looking so sad the few times I accidentally came… I need to make him proud. I need to train more. Sure, I have to work tomorrow but one edge, just the one…
Fuck, I love social media. It’s like… the algorithm knows how to push me deeper and deeper… and I feel less alone, knowing there are so many people gooning and edging and encouraging one another. To think I was ashamed of the stuff I liked before! Like, admitting that watching a girl being spanked turned me on would get me red like a tomato. Now… a spanking does nothing for me. I need more, and the screen delivers. It’s so fucking good to see so many good girls, drooling and edging like me and writing on their skins what willing fuckholes they are… The words come to me and I’m muttering them… cunt… useless toy… living cumrag… I’m not sure I can stop myself from mumbling anymore. I watch them smile before getting their stupid mouths fucked by a huge cock, shutting them up and turning them into the useful dolls they are…
Jesus! That was close. I didn’t expect to hit the edge so quickly! My pussy must be more sensitive lately. Makes sense. Two weeks without cumming is a long time… but he looked so proud of me last session… no way I can throw that away for a moment of relief. I’m in control. Not my body. Me. 
Okay, I did it. Time to get some much needed rest.
Fuck…
Turning in bed. My cunt is soaked and it’s insistent, demanding. I have to work tomorrow. I can’t… I put my pillow between my legs. I don’t know why I feel like it will calm my pussy down a bit. I’m making no sense. Fuck, thinking that made me wetter. I’m making no sense. I’m dumb. I’m stupid. I’m just a horny bitch in heat…
My hips move on their own. I’m not entirely awake, not entirely asleep. I’m almost… not there. Like I’m just watching my needy body hump the pillow, like I’m merely a passenger and my stupid, horny body is taking over…
No. No. I’m in control. I won’t cum. I won’t…
That was too close. Much too close. But I did it. I stopped right at the edge. I didn’t cum. 
I was a good girl.
Good girls edge. That’s not something the therapist said. At least I don't think so. I saw it online. But he explained edging to me, so he must want me to be a good girl for him, right? No, that’s silly. He’s a professional. He’s teaching me control. I want to learn from him. I want to be a good girl for him. I want him to…  
It’s two in the morning already. Time slipped by like… like it was soaked by my pussy juices. I like that image. My needy cunt is so permanently wet even time gets slick. I might be going crazy. I need to snap back to reality. I need to focus. Tomorrow I have to work, and I’m already going to be running on like, five hours of sleep.
Well, I’m going to be fucked tomorrow either way, right? Not much difference between five hours of sleep and four. And I do have a few audios saved…
One more edge. That’ll be all.
God, I love how audios make me feel. As soon as I put the headphones on and that low, barely audible pulsing sound comes on, I can feel a tingle snake all over my skin. And her voice… It’s so soft, so gentle, so caring… and so desperate at the same time. I don’t know how many times I’ve listened to her, but it always makes me feel… like she’s holding me. Guiding me. Telling me what I am. What I could be. What I should be.
I know I’m saying the words out loud. I couldn’t stop myself from doing it even if I wanted to anymore. The girl in the audio and me, we are one and the same. I can’t tell where the audio ends and my mind begins. Her words are my words. The only part of me that remains is the watchful eye that’s always alert now, always ready to pounce and stop me from going over the edge.
Edging makes me better. Edging makes me sluttier. Edging makes me prettier. Edging makes me more obedient. Edging makes me a slave to my cunt. Edging makes me better. Edging makes me sluttier…
I can feel him railing me in his office. I can taste his cum on my tongue. I can see the pleasure in his eyes, the way it gives me purpose…
Shit! That fantasy almost got me. I can’t be the only one that thinks about their therapist that way, right? No, no judgment. No shame. That’s what he says, so surely he wouldn’t begrudge me a little kinky fantasy starring him… 
I wonder if I should tell him. Fuck, that would be amazing. To look into his eyes and tell him every detail that my mind conjured up, how I want him to take over my mind, to tell me what to think, what to wear… who to be. 
Twenty past four in the morning. Four-twenty. I should sleep, but come on. Timing’s too good. One joint, one more edge, and that will be it. Weed always makes edging better, anyway. I feel so… happy. I don’t have another word for it. Bubbly. Happy. Slutty. Maybe I should make someone else happy like me… 
I should probably buy like, a mask or something, just to be safe. But I don’t have one now and I want them to see all of me… I want every inch of my body to be porn, to make someone happy… It doesn’t matter who. I need to be useful. I go on the website.
I blame the lack of sleep and the weed. I’m not dumb. I’m… it’s just… good girls are porn. Fuck, that feels good to say. I log on and…
There it is. Of course, first try. A stiff cock. I can’t see the owner’s face, and I don’t care to. I vaguely remember a time when I would have felt disgusted. Now I can’t think at all. Mu pussy clenches in anticipation, and my hand rubs it softly, insistently. We share the moment in perfect peace, masturbating as one, both mindless and entranced by our own bodies…
Suddenly, the fear comes. I want to be useful. I want… I need to make that cock cum. That’s my purpose. That’s all I want to be. But what if I can’t? How can I know exactly what kind of slut this cock wants to cum to? What if I’m not… good enough?
Then, the man starts typing and the fear melts away, replaced by a warm blanket of peace. He tells me what to do. Suddenly, I don’t need to try anymore. I don’t need to think. I don’t need to worry. I don’t need to be anything but an extension of that wonderful cock. I don’t think I even read the words in any meaningful way. They bypass my brain and go straight to my body, and obedience is instantaneous. 
I’m on all fours, stretching my buttcheeks apart, struggling to look at the screen. I want to see it. I want to feel worthy. 
I barely catch myself. Seeing it tense up, hearing his moan, seeing his cock shoot cum for me, just for me… it almost makes me break my edge. I feel… proud. I feel perfect, as if I’ve found the exact corner of the universe that exists just for me to occupy, that wonderful purpose… He ends the video chat quickly. Maybe he’s embarrassed. It only shows me the dangers of cumming. Cumming brings bad thoughts. But edging…
Dawn arrives. I’ve been… away. I’ve become whoever, whatever the person on the other side of the screen needs me to be. I’m fuzzy. I know I’ve called someone daddy and begged him to sneak into my room at night… I know one woman made me spank myself with my hairbrush until I cried, and she came to my tears. I think I danced for a group of older men, but I can’t be sure. Maybe I… fell asleep at some point? I don’t know. Nothing feels real. I don’t feel real. I feel like a beautiful fiction. 
The alarm goes off. I should shower. Have a coffee. Go to work. Be a person.
Sure, I’ll do all those things. I just need one more edge to start the day…
Just one more…
I know I’ll have an amazing therapy session in two days.  
Did you enjoy this story? You can support my work at patreon.com/prettynosferatu
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cinnanmonn · 2 months
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🥛 𝑀𝐼𝐿𝐾. 🥛
𝑌𝑎𝑛! 𝐹𝑎𝑟𝑚𝑒𝑟 𝑥 𝐺𝑁 𝑃𝑒𝑟𝑣 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟
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TW: Lactation, suggestive content, groping
Wow. For this summer, instead of spending time with your friends or having fun, your parents forced you to help at your grandparents barn.
You had already planned to make this summer the most memorable and enjoyable moments of your life, only to be shattered by your parents threatening to cut off your allowance if you don't help out.
Well you weren't even sure you could make this summer that good because of your budget. You tried to save up for this moment!
Well maybe next summer.
Your allowance was a big part in helping you pay your rent, because you literally cannot support yourself with small part-time jobs.
But they even promised a paycheck, so you had no choice, really.
➹➹➹
You knock on their door, after a few moments your grandma opens the door, greeting you sweetly.
"Oh dear, come in! I'm so glad you were able to come. Haha, we've been understaffed here so you helping is so thoughtful! " she says, as she leads you to the living room.
"It's alright, ma. I'm glad I could at least help. " even though you were lowkey doing this because your mother was paying you.
"Hahaha! Your old man is alseep right now. He's pretty tired, today."
She gestures you to put your things on the couch, you do as told as you sit down. The couch was comfy, despite being worn out it's still in good condition.
The room was colorful, filled with pictures and other vintage things. Mostly broken.
You wait as your grandma gestures you to come into a room.
"Here! The room your mom used to have. Unpack all your things and take a rest, baby. "
"Alright." You smile at her as she closes the door. You quickly open up your stuff and unpack all your things.
You shove your clothes in the old wardrobe and place your other stuff on the stand near the bed.
Wow, the room looked so old. You sigh as you lay on the bed, taking off your shoes.
Your gonna be here for a good 3 weeks. Hahh, you really wished there was something interesting to do, didn't you?
Sadly, there's no internet or signal here, so it's gonna limit your entertainment. Plus, you don't really know people here, since the ones you used to know nearby moved out.
You decided to take a little nap before anything, after all the travel was pretty tiring.
➹➹➹
You woke up in cold sweat, you hear knocks on your door as you sloppily get up and open the door.
Woah.
There stood a tall man, no matter your height he looks real tall. There stands a moreno with a buff looking body and.... The most plump chest you've ever layed your eyes on.
"Um.... Your grandma told me to grab go grab you for dinner. " he shifts uncomfortably at your weird gaze. Maybe you weren't tall enough because you didn't even held eye contact with him.
You were looking at his chest with a tight shirt, wow I hope the buttons would rip off.
You give yourself a little pinch to get back on your senses.
"Oh yeah... You are? " you say, awkwardly as you look away from him.
"Um... I'm Isagani. "
"Oh ahahha, I see. Alright can you please move?"
He flinches as he walks farther away from you, so you could walk towards the dinning room.
He walks in front of you, giving you a mouth-watering view of his ass.
DAMN.
I bet it's jiggly. (💀)
As the both of you reach the dining room, your granddad approaches Isagani and puts his hand on his shoulder.
"Isagani, this is my lil' grandkid. Take care of 'em alright? "
"Oh! Yeah of course, pa. " he awkwardly smiles. You grin in embarrassment. Wow this feels so awkard. Your grandma walks into the room, with a tray of your favorite food.
Your eyes light up, you quickly sit down and get ready to eat. Isagani sits next to your granddad while your grandma sits next to you.
"Dig in, of course I had to make your favorite for today! " your grandma says, smiling proudly.
"Thanks a lot, ma. I'm sure I'll enjoy it here. You smile as you ate.
➹➹➹
As soon as you finished your meal, you went to the bathroom and took a warm bath. It felt so calming, maybe your stay wouldn't be so bad.
Especially with such fine looking specimen being here. You laugh to yourself at the thought. You were already enjoying this.
You hop off the bath and walk towards your room. You remove the towel as you start wearing your undergarments.
When suddenly, the door opens.
"Did you get your-" you quickly look at him. Isagani is wide eyed at the sight he saw. Before you could speak, he quickly closes the door and speaks up. "I'm so sorry! I didn't know!! " he says sounding nervous as you could hear him run off.
You couldn't even get a singular word in. But to be perfectly honest, you don't really give a fuck if they were hot enough.
I'm definitely gonna tease him with this.
Those were your thoughts as you fell asleep.
By the next morning as SOON as you ate your breakfast, you were ordered to milk some cows, with the help of Isagani.
He wouldn't even look at you, while he talked.
"So first of all... "
"Hey."
"Yeah? "
You pull his chin to make him face you, making his face go red. "U-um... Uh... "
"You act like that as if you haven't seen me nude." His eyes widen at your words, he could feel himself get more flustered with how you said it.
"It's not like that! I swear! I'm not interested in high-schoolers, I'm like 27! "
.....
"I'm not a high-schooler. I'm 25." He looks at you, surprised. "Really.... You look like, 20."
"20 year olds aren't high Schoolers. They're also in collage. "
"They are? "
"Yeah never mind. " this conversation was going nowhere. Wahh, you really can't focus when you look at that chest, he's even sweating, making his chest puff up and down at how hot it is.
You had a devious thought, as you suddenly pull him to you. "Hey... You wanna feel good real quick? "
"W-what..? " you smile at his Innocence. "Wanna make out? Well not here, somewhere hidden. "
He quickly gives distance to you as he waves his hands. "We can't! Grands are gonna find us! "
You sigh, "not unless we get caught, c'mon, it's my revenge after you saw me all vulnerable. "
He hesitated, but his eyes shows that he was tempted to. In the end, he ended up following you to the back of the barn. You push him against the wall.
He whines at the sudden impact, as he pathetically looks up at you. "Your so cute.. " Your words make him go red, as he touches his face and think deeply about your comment, you give him a sudden kiss, you make him look up to face you by grabbing on his hair.
You grope his chest, making him squirm. You pull away as you quickly pull off his shirt. "H-hahhh..." He gasps for air at how rough your treating him.
Meanwhile, you were absolutely dazed. His tits are such a cute color of pink, you immediately go ahead and squeeze it, while your mouth bites on his bud.
"He screams out a moan, trying to keep himself quite by covering his mouth with his hand.
"Shut the fuck up, slut. " you wince, as you continue to bite and grop his chest. You lick on it, earning a few moans from him.
You kept lapping until suddenly, you could feel a substance on your mouth. You pull away to see both his buds, leaking with white liquid.
Hot damn. He even lactates? How's that possible and that's so fucking hot.
"I wanna eat you out. "
You say before suckling on his sweet tasty bud. "Ahh..! F-feels weird... Nghh.... " he attempts to quite down his moans, as he could feel his pants get tighter.
You rub on his clothed shaft, earning moans from him. You twist his little buds, milk coming out of it endlessly. You lick it up as you continue lapping his tits.
"I feel.... Ahh!! Something..gonna come.. A-ahh.. ". Is he gonna come? That so cute. With his tits? You couldn't help but go faster and faster as his moans get more frequent.
"S-something.... Ahhh... Ngh....!! " You watch as he cries out, a wet spot visibly on his crotch.
"Wow, you came with your tits like a whore. ". You grin at him. As you give him a little kiss on the cheek.
He whines as he wipes his tears. "What.... Now? " let's get you cleaned up alright? We don't wanna get caught. Le's go. " I help him up as I sneakily lead him to the river so he could wash up a bit at least.
♡-------------------------------------------------- ♡
𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚢 𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢 (ू˃̣̣̣̣̣̣︿˂̣̣̣̣̣̣ ू) 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚒𝚍𝚔, 𝚙𝚕𝚞𝚜 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝙸 𝚍𝚘 𝚍𝚛𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚜𝚘 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚕𝚘𝚕
𝙱𝚝𝚠 𝚝𝚢𝚜𝚖 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚖 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚒𝚕𝚢 (^з^)-☆𝚌𝚑𝚞!! 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝙸'𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚢𝚙𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚏𝚏𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚜𝚘 𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚖 𝚜𝚞𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚝𝚢𝚝𝚢 ♡♡♡
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Donatello (NSFW Alphabet)
Bayverse Donatello x F!Reader
Donatello is a giving, fast-paced, enthusiastic character that has tendencies to people-please; with a deep seated desire to belong. I see him being a submissive lover most of the time; needing the freedom from his busy brain and busy life. Donnie would give in to anything his lover would need from him. But you would also notice he struggles to indulge in taking what he wants, in fear of inconveniencing, pressuring, or disgusting you. Which makes those occasional moments when he takes over and give in to his dominant urges all the more delicious. 
Brief mentions of masochism, somnophilia, bondage, pegging and exhibitionalism. Word count: 2200. 
Enjoy!
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A - Aftercare (What they’re like after sex) - After sex Donnie is a dumbass. Doesn’t matter what kind of sex. He’s fucked out and a bit of a goofball, so you will get cuddles and jokes and he will make you laugh. But until you ask, he’s not thinking about the mess at all. Or about water. Or food. Or anything really. It’s when you actually ask, “Babe, I can’t move, will you please grab-” He will first be horrified, then he will SCRAMBLE out of bed. He’ll wack his head against a light or something or trip over his underwear flat on his face- he’s so fucking cute. 
B - Body Part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) - If you compliment anything about his physical appearance or physic, he says stuff like “Naww.” “Staap.” “No you don’t.” But he loves the size difference. He loves how small you look against him and in his bed. Sometimes he stares at how big his hands and fingers are while fingering your little pussy and he goes brain dead. 
C- Cum (Anything to do with cum basically) - Donnie whimpers, shakes, and moves a lot during orgasm. He can’t help it. It’s one of those moments he is 100000% completely, utterly checked out. It’s so fucking hot. He also needs to be holding something. Always. He prefers to grab you into a tight, shakey hug. But if he can’t do that, he also grabs his own head and face. Donnie has also bent metal before, broken handcuffs and torn rope. He’s replaced your headboard twice now. Bit of a head pusher, so unless you are into that, tie him up or tell him to hang on to something.
D - Dirty Secret - He would love to be pegged. Already loves it when you finger and eat out his cloaca, so having you in control of his pleasure and body? It drives him insane. 
E - Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?) - Donnie’s nature is to research and to meet head-on. Between all the long term-relationship, healthy sex-life, deep-dive research (and his porn consumption); he is actually pretty prepared to have good sex. But what makes sex and his first-time terrifying is the turtle thing, his fear of you thinking he’s ugly and disgusting, and not being good for you.. His trauma and sensitive nature is completely exposed those first few times. So you taking the lead and being in charge was his saving grace. 
F - Favorite Position - Donnie does not have a favorite. He loves to change things up. But he does have a tendency to fall into a routine, and succums pleasure and intimacy. He’s not stopping a fuck to change up the position unless you tell him to do so. 
G - Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous) - Depends on how much stress he is under and how much sleep he has had. If he is well rested and life is being a little more on the good side, he is incredibly playful and cute. But if he hasn’t slept in two days, sex is overwhelming and intense and he needs that burst of good chemicals. If he is being cute and dorky while life is falling apart, its always before you start getting in his pants and directly after you’ve both finished. 
H - Hair - He doesn’t care
I - Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect) - Sex is one of the few ways you can easily pull him out of his head, so it does get intense for him. Donnie’s brain checks out once shit gets rolling, and he stays checked out when you take the lead; which is something he desperately needs. But those moments when he needs to take for once instead of give, you gotta be prepared for the most intense fucking of your life. 
J - Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon) - Donnie is the one who is a little more sloppy and risky when it comes to jerking off. Because when he needs it, he needs it, okay? He loses brain cells when he’s horney, so jerking off in his lab when one of his brothers is still awake in the kitchen over there starts feeling like a good idea. Post-nut clarity hits Donnie so hard when he’s by himself. It’s hilarious. 
K - Kink (One or more of their kinks) - Donnie is a kinky mother fucker, okay, and he is so shy about it. He will not put in requests. You will have to get it out of him, because he feels a bit of shame in that he wants to be on the receiving end of things, usually. He’s into sensory deprivation, bondage, exhibitionalism, toys, somnophilia, masochism, breeding, free-use, phone sex, all of it. 
L - Location (Favorite places to do the do) - Okay, so you gotta be careful because if you get Donnie horny enough, anywhere starts looking like ‘this will do’. It can get him in trouble, and you’re gonna have to call the shots on that one. But he does get pretty paranoid in the lair and lack of privacy, so a bedroom will be best for a while. Let him get more confident in his body and his relationship with you before y’all start getting crazy.
M - Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going) - In a scenario in which he is glued to the screens and you need lovin’s; praise. Pet names. Tracing his neck or arms. It will get his attention super fast. Everytime. He is also always horny waking up, but he is not a morning person, so you will have to do most of the work. But his noises and desperation are always worth it. 
N - NO (Something they wouldn't do, turn offs) - He doesn't like being hit, or in pain; and actually being restrained is horrifying to him. If he can’t actually snap the handcuffs or rope, and he’s being held down- things go from sexy to he doesn't want to be touched for three days. It’s a fine line, one that he didn’t know existed until it happened. Unaddressed trauma, you know?
O - Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc) - Donnie fucking loves head, okay? One of his longest fantasies was having a partner suck him off while he games. It’s a classic. And he loves giving you head, and takes massive pride in being the best there possibly is at giving it to him. 
P - Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual) - All of it. All of it. There are moments when he needs to take over, and he does get intense. But even in his most needy moments- it still doesn’t mean he’s rough. He definitely can be- but it all depends on the mood and the scenario and what you need. He’s all over. 
Q - Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often.) - He has some trouble initiating. The fear of inconveniencing you or being overly needy is prevalent in his heart. Especially at the beginning. So even if he is insanely, deliriously horny for you, he’s gonna struggle asking for relief. However, if you initiate- he’s all in. He will do whatever, whenever, however. Just keep touching him. Tell him what you need, what he should do. He will be there, please, baby. 
R - Risk (Are they game to experience, do they take risks.) - If you need him and your in charge, he gets a little pussy drunk. He will want to do whatever you want, whenever you want. He does have some fantasies of having you in semi-public areas (like his truck on a road trip). But not only does he secretly want to try everything in the book, but he is here to please you. He wants you and he wants to be yours. Ask him and he will be of service. 
S - Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last) - Donnie possesses athleticism on a level that is otherworldly. You are dating a superhero. So his stamina shows it. He can have sex all day, and be running around saving the world after. The question is, when does he find time to sleep. So sometimes, fucking him should be a seque to getting him to passing out, at last.  
T - Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves) - Donnie loves toys. Loves using them on you, loves it when you use them on him. He kinda likes the thought of building sophisticated ones for you to enjoy. He likes to watch you use toys on yourself, he likes you watching him use them- he adores it all. The introduction of toys in the bedroom was very quick, and he’d have a collection somewhere very, super hidden. 
U - Unfair (how much they like to tease) - He doesn’t like to tease you at all. He’s not the type. What you ask of him is exactly what he will give, so he struggles to deny you pleasure. However, he kinda loves when you tease him. Flirting with him, denying him, teasing him, edging him all get him feeling super hot. You become his whole world when you do, and that’s exactly how he likes it. 
V - Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make) - Donnie whimpers. He is the most gorgeous whimperer in the entire planet. He shakes and whines and moans, and he begs. His voice can get super low and then can get high and whispery- you have told him several times he could make audio porn and he doesn’t believe you. He gets a little insecure about it, because most of the time he doesn’t have a whole lot of brain power to control that. 
W - Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice) - He was fucking you hard in the back of the lab. On the old cot he kept there for emergency uses. He was getting so riled up that his brothers, just outside, were in danger of overhearing his whispers and whines. Your solution? You grabbed his face hard, yanking him close with your palm cupped over his mouth with your other hand cupping the nape of his neck. His eyes rolled into the back of his head, falling further into your shoulder and bracing under the new wave of arousal while his thrusts quickened with desperation. “That’s it, baby.” You whispered, struggling to keep quiet yourself. “That’s it, good boy, sweetheart…fuck-”
X -X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words) - Team cloaca. He has a cloaca just under the plates of his plastron. His dick is HUGE, and gorgeously dark purple, and there is a reason it needs to be packed away. It takes a lot of time and a lot of patience, even with the assist of his and your natural lubrication, it takes a while to get his huge size inside of you. 
Y - Yearning (How high is their sex drive) - In the beginning, you are all Donnie could think about. He wanted you so badly, and he wanted you to want him. He had trouble focusing on tasks he had never had a problem focusing on before. He wasn’t getting things done, he was messing up more during training, and he had troubles not talking about you to others. But after things have been official for a while, that fades to a much more healthy amount. But he does have an issue getting lost in his interests, projects and duties. His sex drive is high, but he has attention issues lol. 
Z - ZZZ (How quickly they fall asleep afterwards) - Donnie is a sleep deprived monster. While he can continue on after sex as if nothing happened (he does that a lot), sex is one of the only things that will actually put him to sleep quickly. So if that is your objective, after he orgasms…when he’s still shaky and out of breath- all you gotta do is rub his shoulders, kiss his face and pull him into a tight hug, prevent him from getting too goofy, and it’s over. If you are under him, he can fall asleep on top of you. If you two are curled up in the lab chair, he will pass out with his head on your shoulder. If you guys are on the couch, he will drop out, his mouth open and glasses skewed with you on his chest. He is always a hard sleeper, so getting him to wake up especially after a good fuck- is damn near impossible. But it’s also something that honestly, while you stare down at his cute face snoozing away, waking him up is the last thing that you want to do. 
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natlovesls2 · 5 months
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You're Lying, Right?
Lando x Fem!Reader x Charles
*ੈ✩‧₊˚warnings: swearing, drinking and mentions of alcohol (might be inaccurate, I don’t drink), format might be weird (this wasn't saving the way I wanted it to),
*ੈ✩‧₊˚word count: 1k
*ੈ✩‧₊˚Summary: Lando and Charles teach you to kiss after you confess that you've never been kissed
.ೃ࿐Request: Idk if you watched the movie Were the Millers?? But can you do imagine where reader never had a first kiss and charles and lando give her her first kiss ?? Like the scene with Jenn Anniston, will poulter, and Emma roberts ???
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‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙
The three of you had been drinking for whatever reason, and to be completely honest, you couldn’t exactly remember why the bottles of alcohol had been brought out in the first place. However, you knew the drink in your hand was stronger than the stuff you usually drank, but after the horrible few days you had, it was needed. Its surprisingly sweet smell inviting you to take big gulps. The burn as it passed down your throat numbing the thoughts of your busy life and failed dates. You subconsciously continued to fill your glass with the earthy-fruity liquid, one glass after another– silently watching Charles and Lando interact with one another.
"You're awfully quiet," Lando said from beside you, reaching for your drink to fill it with something new, hesitating when he noticed your slight frown. 
"She had a date yesterday; I can only assume it went horribly," Charles added, moving from his spot to lean against the armrest of the sofa. 
Lando hummed at the newfound information, disapprovingly shaking his head, deciding you had had enough to drink– knowing another glass would not help alleviate whatever pain you felt. “Don't tell me you're attempting to drown your sorrows with liquor. What even happened on this date of yours?"
"The date itself wasn't the worst; it was actually the best I've had in a while– but when the date ended, he expected a kiss. And I know I have to have my first kiss at some point, but I didn't want to disappoint him."
They stared at you for a long time, letting silence settle in the room– you were suddenly aware of the increased warmth. Regret and embarrassment immediately fill your body, urging you to want to vomit up everything you had been drinking. Of course, you had to have the loosest fucking lips known to man when drunk. Actually, you couldn't fully blame the alcohol; the amount you had consumed only slightly gave you a buzzing feeling– enough to feel tipsy. 
“You’re lying, right? I mean, you have to be joking, no?” Lando's small laughter stopped as he noticed your humorless demeanor and sick-looking face– awkwardly clearing his throat, body shifting at Charles's glaring gaze. 
"It's nothing to be embarrassed about. Everyone experiences life differently; it just so happens to be that you haven't had your first kiss," Charles nodded in your direction, still glaring at Lando– urging him to add to what he said, hoping to ease your embarrassment. 
"Yeah, absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about. I mean, some people find that sweet."
"Obviously, my date didn't find it sweet... I'm surprised he didn't laugh in my face. Honestly, it fucking pathetic," you let out a dry laugh, picking at the strings of your ripped jeans. You sighed, looking up in time to notice Lando nudging Charles and nodding in your direction. He mouths something to Lando, which you can't quite make out; you'd never been good at reading lips or people. Lando opened and closed his lips a few times as if having a struggle with himself– unsure if he should say something or let Charles take control of the situation. 
"We could always teach you how to kiss," he finally says, watching your face for any sort of reaction, noticing the way your eyes widen at the nonchalantness of his words. "–only if you want to, of course," he quickly adds, sensing your hesitation and overall embarrassment over the situation. 
You feel the world around you slow down, the noise slowly dissipating– replaced by a low ringing sound you can't quite place. You barely notice yourself nodding, nervously running your hands down the front of your jeans, attempting to get rid of the clammy feeling– which only increased at the soft touch of Lando's hand on your cheek. "It's weird if you keep your eyes open," he whispered, holding back a laugh, not wanting to make you any more embarrassed than you already were. You closed your eyes and swallowed the little saliva you had– an attempt to calm yourself, finding your mouth extremely dry. Your heart quicked at this; what if the kiss was too dry? The desire to vomit returned and your throat tightened itself as a final attempt to hold everything down.
 Lando's hand gently caressed your cheek, trailing down to your jaw, pulling you in closer– his warm breath falling against your skin. His lips hovered over your own for a while before they finally connected in an awkwardly stiff kiss. "It wasn't bad," he reassured you, smiling when he noticed the way your eyes nervously bounced around the room– avoiding his own. "Just relax a bit, don't be too stiff." 
He leaned forward again, soft lips moving against your own; in complete contrast to the first kiss, this one was looser– relaxed and something you could see yourself enjoying despite the foreign feeling. His hand moved up to tangle itself in your hair, his tongue lightly running against your bottom lip. You weren't sure if it was the alcohol that finally reached your senses helping you relax, but whatever it was that possessed you to open your lips was definitely on your side. The sweetness of your past drinks mixed with the bitterness of whatever he had been drinking. "See, I told you you just needed to loosen up." 
"I don't know... I feel like you're only being nice about it."
"I'll tell you the truth; let's see what Lando has taught you– or if he taught you well," Charles says, his voice reminding you that he had been there watching the whole interaction, sitting beside you on the other side of the sofa. 
His warm hand pulls you towards him, connecting his lips against yours in a confident kiss. While Lando's kiss had felt firm and loose– slightly messy, this was a lot more calculated. He pulled you closer, hands moving to gently grip the hair at the nape of your neck. "You can definitely impress your next date."
‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙
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