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#(probably nothing because i don't work there but i WIll be annoyed)
nostalgia-tblr · 2 months
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"are people not into that?" i ask, after posting my weird niche shit to the internet, despite knowing it to be weird niche shit.
#jsyk sylkius or anything adjacent to it does not “Do Numbers” in any way and i observed this some time ago#i assume that's the “rival ships” element at work but who knows really#that sort of thing is like femslash in that everyone approves of it but nobody actually reads or writes it#but who would have thought sylvie beating loki with a stick would not bring in droves of readers???! shocking twist there!#& i don't consider sifki a rarepair but my rarepair standards are VERY strict like if there's >5 fics a pairing is basically mainstream#chasing popularity would annoy me though & i just don't have the mental spoons to try writing stuff i wouldn't personally read#yeah i *could* put my blorbos to work in a coffee shop but what cost to my own enjoyment levels? AT WHAT COST FANGELA???#you can't please everyone so you may as well just please yourself and if anyone else likes it you've found some fellow freaks so yay#i don't mean please yourself in a wanking sense. though feel free to do that too it probably counts as a cardio workout idk.#BUT ANYWAY#fic related#ps i am v glad there's the “warning: loki” tag because i think/hope it acts as a filter for 'he did nothing wrong in his life ever' types#who are Valid & etc obviously but i write my morally grey characters to be morally grey and the tag might help avoid conflict#though tbh i write almost every character to be morally grey in some way so i can't claim to have left my comfort zone here#(i'm not joking when i say the 1987-89 run of Dr Who shaped my entire future fannish life from a young and apparently v impressionable age)
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slippery-minghus · 1 month
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hmm. had an actual conversation with nightmare coworker today that seemed mutually productive. she apologized for saying some bullshit that hurt my feelings and i clarified that my intentions are to help not to undermine her, and we both agreed that there's no competition against each other and that it's the lack of growth in our role that's the problem. it was...productive.
and further cementing for me that it is time to begin making my Exit. i will be sending out my resume to a few places this weekend.
i'm still processing the conversation, and am struggling to place myself in where i am responsible to better my behavior. because i genuinely don't want to be an ass, even though i really don't like this lady and will jump for joy the day i never have to see her again. she stated that she knows my intentions aren't to hurt her, and that she thinks i'm very kind. i apologized for if my behavior came off as undermining her, and said that my intentions are only to better my own growth—and that i know she's trying to succeed too. i validated her feelings, and complemented the effort she is putting in.
where i'm struggling with is: am i in the wrong/causing harm and needing to change if the issue is that her feelings are incongruent with what she knows of my intentions? her feelings are her responsibility (WOW i almost typed "her feelings are my responsibility". i feel like that's a freudian slip) and she states that she knows i don't mean to hurt her. i'm going to try to be more clear in wording my intentions with her (she feels like me trying to take work off her plate is to undermine her. when really, i'm caught up and see her getting overwhelmed, and i want to help and also have something to do since i'm bored).
but i'm really struggling to look at my role in this and pass judgement on myself. i can and want to do better, and i don't think i did anything wrong, but i'm always so hesitant to say it's not my fault or i didn't do something bad. like i can't trust my judgement on that. my intentions were good, her bad feelings are ones caused by her insecurities, which she more or less has expressed to be aware that they are not true—the hurtful thing she said to me, she acknowledged was said out of hurt and not what she actually thinks. so, is it fair to say i'm not the bad guy? i'm not in the wrong? i know good intentions that still result in harm don't absolve anyone, but when the things that are clashing are insufficient communication and reactive insecurities... i'm not a monster, am i?
#well. i AM probably a monster for how much i dislike this lady#but i don't ACT on it#and i genuinely couldn't care less about her. i participate in decent human pleasantries because i am a decent human.#and at work we're stuck together#the thing that's irked me so much about this conversation is just.. her self centeredness#that she thinks everyone is out to get her. to undermine her. whatever.#bitch nobody cares about you enough one way or the other to put in that kind of effort. i sure don't#i empathize but i do not sympathize. to feel that pit that makes you feel like the worst kind of center of attention#i get it. but genuinely you are not the main character and no one is going to spend their limited time and energy to slowly attack you#you are not the cat with all the knives pointed at it#it's a terrible feeling to feel like you are! but when it influences your behavior to the point that you are making snide comments#to people who have no option not to interact with you then uh. then you're in the wrong buddy#and the people around you (who cannot easily leave! bc work!) should not have to bend over backwards to assure you#that they're not pointing knives at you. to protect themselves from your feelings making you say mean shit#like yes. i can be more clear with my intentions. i'm generally not the greatest at that. but my baseline that i want to#modify my behavior from is NOT one that a regular well adjusted person would take as anything but kind#and if a regular well adjusted person got a little offput by me volunteering to take work off their hands we would've had a very chill#3 sentence conversation about it MONTHS AGO.#i understand and respect (even if i find it annoying and overbearing) the need for me to announce my intentions like im working in a kitchen#and saying 'hot water' or 'knife' as i move around other people but we shouldn't have reached this conclusion this way#and frankly who's to fucking say me being more clear with my intentions will only feed the flames of her thinking i'm out to get her!#'i caught up on my stuff and your plate looks full. i'm bored. anything i can do to help?' could be a pointed knife for all i know!!#and if it is- and my actions still hurt her in that scenario- am i still responsible for the hurt caused??#like WHERE DOES IT FUCKING E N D ?#personal#*exhales* okay i feel better now#i just hate talking about my interactions with her bc i just want NOTHING to do with it. i want her out of my head!!#but until i process it i can't let go#and i'm still going to have to go over all of this with my shrink tomorrow#it just makes me mad how much of my time this bitch takes up. i'm not getting paid to think about work right now!!!!
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deanpinterester · 11 months
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punching kicking netflix for creating an environment where getting cancelled after season 2 is so likely that we had to get this mess of a shadow and bone season 2 instead of a properly paced story like season 1. truly truly biting and gnawing and ripping
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claire-starsword · 25 days
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forced to open windows 11 for a brief moment to test the new epic shining wisdom alpha and being immediately reminded of why i dont use windows anymore. literally wouldn't stop notifications for five minutes. everything tries connecting to one drive all the time and i can't remember asking. "you need to finish configuring this!" "you need to finish configuring that!" "you haven't looked at notifications from this thing in a while!!" what if i kill you
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guidingthulite · 1 month
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i have to make a point to mention ena's shoujo mangas otherwise is it really a chapter of my fic
#I WROTE 3000 WORDS TODAY#WHICH IS GOOD. BECAUSE I WROTE#AND IT'S ALSO BAD. BECAUSE I NEED TO WAKE UP EARLY AND IT'S CURRENTLY 5 AM#seems like i either write at ass o clock or i don't write#you guys don't probably know this but everytime i spend like a lot without writing#and then i start writing again#i start by writing some extra info and / or flashback that has nothing to do with the current plot#'but alma guidingthulite what's this chapter about' yeah <3#i was also thinking about opening comissions i'm working on the announcement post#my words now cost money baybeeee#i also wrote a tiny bit of my parunverse fic which i have mentioned like once or twice in my sideblog#inspiration struck today for some reason. jpseka tiering probably#i'm top 3000 currently which ouch bc i'm normally top 3000 effortlessly on global jebrgjr#but whatever. sometimes you need some humbling. i guess#also i'm never writing rui again he plays a (kind of) big part in the bit i just wrote and i think he's super ooc auguaghaughugua#rui i love you and all but i'm sorry. i'm so sorry#the bit this quote is from is based on real events except instead of ena it's me. you'll understand when you read it in like#a year <3#i've been annoying my brother about these shoujo mangas i've been reading. sadly he's not interested#BUT HE'S A SUPER SAPPY GUY. HIS FAVORITE ANIME IS KOMI CAN'T COMMUNICATE.#HE JUST WON'T TAKE MY RECS BECAUSE HE'S THAT KIND OF GUY. HE THEN WATCHES THEM AND LIKES IT BUT IT'S NEVER BECAUSE I REC THEM TO HIM#homophobia (he's actually bi)
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WIBTA for sabotaging my boyfriend's hookup with his girlfriend by filling his sex playlist with DJ Crazytimes
I (28NB, they/he) have known my boyfriend (call him C, 29M, he/him) for some 15ish years now. As long as I've known him, he has been on and off again with his girlfriend (call him T, 29NB, he/him). Respectfully, and with love, C and T are two of the worst and most annoying people I know. I want to marry them both specifically so that I can study them under a microscope like a parasitic virus.
Technically they're monogamous, but they're both hooking up with other people (myself included), usually the same people, because they have the same taste in lovers (bad). I have suggested that they give actual polyamory a try, and they reject the idea wholeheartedly. I think they get off on their dynamic, and far be it from me to try more than the bare minimum to dissuade them from it.
A couple months back, they got into a fight and broke up (again) because T (who was unemployed at the time) stole $50 from C (who works at GameStop) so that he could pay for a tank of gas (using C's car) to go hook up with another guy a couple states over. C was not upset that T was hooking up with another guy (because he was Also hooking up with that guy and knew he would not have a leg to stand on), but because of the stolen money + car.
C and I currently live together, because you can't afford an apartment on a GameStop salary, and also, like I said, he's my boyfriend. I'm making carnitas tacos next Friday, and T is coming over, because despite everything, he has nothing else to do on a Friday night. I know that C and T are going to get into a huge fight, and I know that it's probably either going to end with them getting back together out of spite or with someone's vehicle getting keyed--I'm betting on both.
Here's where I think I might be the asshole. I would really like to get inbetween them. Not in a "I don't want you to date each other" kind of way, but in a "holy shit you are both so insufferable i would like to get in on that" kind of way. I currently have my thing with C, and I've hooked up with T once in the past, but I would really like to make it official with him as well.
My plan is as follows: C and T are going to be in the same space again next Friday. They're going to fight, then hook up, then get back together again. C is one of those cybersexual "i built my own computer and run it on Linux" people, which is to say, he thinks tiktok and youtube are evil, and he he thinks spotify premium is supporting megacorporations. So, his sex playlist for T (we do not have our own sex playlist) is just an actual folder of mp3 files.
While C is at work, I'm going to log into his computer and change several of those mp3 files to DJ Crazytimes' Planet of the Bass, which I play often, and he is frequently annoyed by. My hope is that he'll realize it was me, he'll come and yell at me for ruining their hookup, T will take my side to piss him off, and the tension will get to the point where they let me join their hookup, and I can ask to date both of them after that.
To be clear, I recognize that I'm also Incredibly Toxic for enabling and encouraging this behavior. That said, I feel like I'm justified in this scenario considering C and T are both Also toxic, and furthermore, it is a known fact that I'm dating C right now, so for them to hook up, C would technically be cheating on me. I asked C's sister (a childhood friend of mine) for her take on whether it would be funny or just annoying, and she just told me that we all deserve each other, so I think I should be good. Am I being uniquely shitty here?
What are these acronyms?
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neverendingford · 8 months
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#tag talk#I've started using music to fall asleep to. because if you watch a video and start to feel sleepy but then stop once you close the video?#the answer is to leave the video running while you fall asleep of course#I'm using music not talking so I don't dream funky and sleep restlessly.#it probably says horrible things about my ability to calm down. rest. and not need distraction. but anything that helps right?#idk. the brain's inability to sit with any sort of quiet. any sort of space to think.#I can't stand when nothing is happening because then I have time to think my own thoughts.#I'm just high school again. which... yeah I'm stressed to hell so it makes sense. but it's annoying and a little disappointing#disappointing that enough stress can just revert me back. I know I'll bounce back faster and more healthily because of the work I've done#but it's still annoying to be back in this same place#how can you move on when you're constantly visiting your old self?#is it nostalgia? trauma? a secret other thing? perhaps all of them at once? I don't know.#I can never be estranged from my bio sex because I'm him all the time.#things get bad and I'm just that terrified little kid who's convinced everyone can read his mind and hates him and wants to hurt him.#and then I'm older me. angry and ready to hurt anyone who touches us. because I'm fucking done with getting pushed around#but I want to get back to me. I want to get back to smiling and laughing so hard I have to lie down on the cold kitchen tile to calm down#one of my minecraft kids told me yesterday that his face hurt from smiling so much while talking to me. that's the kind of person I am now#and I want to be that. I want to be her. I want to be me. I'm so tired of bouncing between past and present.#what does it say that my protective mode is a man and my emotionally honest mode is a woman? idk#trans men often live more emotionally honest and authentic when they transition. obviously my experience will be limited data#I don't think it means anything except the inherent fear that is perhaps characterized so often in trans-women experiences#the fear that becoming myself is somehow reductive of gender roles. the fear that I'm confirming some deeply held bias#which is bullshit. I can be who I want. and I certainly can be who I AM. I just. I want to be me. I want to lose the pressure#because sharing my experiences with others in a way that improves other people's lives is what I want from life.#hmmmm. just had a thought about how minecraft allows me to express whichever side of me I want.#the eager insufferable know it all kid who just wanted to create the world in his own image.#the paranoid and nervous maniac who just wanted everything ordered properly and for it to stay predictable for even just two fucking minutes#and me. the one who wants to create things with others. to engineer collaborative experiences and to build others up and make them happier#idk. I vibe with a lot of stuff I read about did but I really don't match so none of this is trying to pretend or co-opt identity.#but idk. I'm so tired of being split between these eras of my life and getting thrown back into one of those people when things get bad
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bananami · 5 months
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A little couple's trivia with Nanami proves that he knows you all too well.
I did use the term wife and she/her pronouns just as a brief cw. The whole thing is just fluff. Nanami is in love with you. That's the whole things.
(I am delulu and in love with this man. Hope this helps us all heal. He is alive and well and no one can convince me otherwise. Also I love including Gojo's dumbass in everything. Also Yuji is a sweetheart and Nanami's son basically.)
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"Please?" You're practically begging your husband, who doesn't seem to be budging.
"No."
"Why not?"
"Yeah Nanamin-"
"Don't call me that." Nanami cuts Gojo off immediately.
"But Yuji calls you that!"
"That's different." He glares at the white haired man like he's trying to eviscerate him with just his eyes. "And I'm not playing some stupid game just to prove how well I know my wife." He tries to pay attention to the paperwork in front of him again, wanting to finish it before 5pm. Because there was no way he was working overtime again today.
"Scared?" Gojo baited him. "Afraid I'm gonna ask you a question that's just too hard?"
"Gojo, there is nothing you could ask me about my wife that I wouldn't be able to answer."
A few of the students sat around watching the two go back and forth, inevitably waiting for Nanami to either get so annoyed that he walked away, or to take the bait. They hoped for the latter.
"Prove it! Or you forfeit your marriage."
"That's not how that works."
"C'mon Nanamin, it's just a game." Yuji gives the blonde sorcerer a sincere smile, hoping to lighten the mood and sway his decision just a bit.
"Don't call him Nanamin, Yuji- OW." Gojo is cut off as Nanami reaches over and smacks him in the head with the papers in his hand.
"Don't tell him what to do." Nanami sighs and rubs at his temple. He looks at the clock, then at you. It's the look in your eyes that gives way to his final decision. "Fine. You have until that clock reads 5, and then I'm taking my wife and we're going home."
Gojo wastes no time. "Who is your wife's favorite person? And think before you say yourself because-"
"Itadori. Next question."
"I'm your favorite person?!" Yuji jumps from his seat, latching his arms around you for a hug. It's obvious from the way that you smile and hug him back that Nanami is probably definitely right. You had a soft spot for the kid since you met him, playfully telling everyone that you and Nanami had basically adopted him since he arrived at Jujutsu High. Nanami would probably never verbalize it, but you could tell he felt the same about the boy.
"Ok, ok. Next question." Gojo thought hard before coming up with it. "How does your wife take her coffee?"
"She doesn't drink coffee."
"Yes she does, I bring her some like every morning."
"And she gives that coffee to me because she doesn't like it."
"You're telling me I've been buying you coffee this entire time?"
"I make her tea every morning when we get to work. You hand her the coffee, we trade cups. I don't understand how you've stared right at us when we do it and you somehow haven't noticed."
"Ok, then what tea does she drink?"
"Earl Grey, three sugars, a little bit of milk at the top. She'll say she's ok with English Breakfast or Lady Earl Grey if they're out of the regular. She's not, she's just being polite. She'll drink half and throw it away when she thinks no one is looking."
Gojo groans, not having as much fun as he thought he was going to at the beginning of all of this. "And I just bet you have a contingency plan for when your wife doesn't get her tea, don't you?"
"Of course I do," he ignores the even louder groan from Gojo, "I walk across the street to the cafe that sells her favorite pastries and I buy her five because I know that she'll want to share with her students and she'll try to split one with me even if I refuse. They have teabags they leave out so long as you're ordering something. Earl Grey, always in stock."
"Adorable." Gojo rolls his eyes.
"You're so smart, Nanamin!" Yuji jumps in. "Let me ask one! What's her favorite color?"
"Yuji, that's too easy."
"Yellow."
"Ohhhh, mine too," Yuji says, "why yellow?"
"Because it's-" Nanami stops mid-sentence and looks at the clock, like it will give him an excuse. Almost. "We don't need to worry about the why, that wasn't the original question."
Gojo perks up, clearly realizing he'd struck a nerve. And he was ready to work it. The red dusting across Nanami's cheeks told him everything he needed to know. "Are you embarrassed, Nanami?"
"Shut up, Gojo."
"Or do you just not know the answer? It's ok if you don't, I guess you just don't know your wife as well as you thought you did."
"If you don't stop talking, I'm going to tell everyone about the one time in high school when you and Geto got caught in the-"
"OK!" Gojo turns back to the students and motions them toward the door. "Time to go! Don't you all have something better to do? Go be little trouble makers somewhere. Go TP Yaga's lawn or something. Get out of here."
He'd ushered everyone out except Yuji, who stayed behind to wait for you and Nanami. The boy shyly looked away as you kissed Nanami's cheek before standing up, stating you just needed to grab your bag before you could leave.
Yuji waited for you to exit the room before he asked. "Is it because of your hair?"
Nanami sighs. "What makes you think that?"
Yuji just shrugs. "She loves you. Answers don't always need a complex reason."
Nanami can't help the smile that graces his face. "You're a smart kid sometimes, you know that?"
"That's why I'm her favorite!" His goofy nature is back in an instant. "Can I come over for dinner again tonight?"
"Of course you can."
"Can I stay over?"
"If you'd like to."
"Can I pick the movie we watch?"
"Don't push your luck."
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tardis--dreams · 1 year
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My esteemed professor,
I'm deeply sorry for not being able to stick to the agreed upon date to send you my proposal. Unfortunately, my brain and my body have decided to unionize and strike, making me feel incapacitated to properly work on the project.
If it is of any consolation, I did not spend my time in any enjoyable manner but mostly lying on the floor or in my bed, feeling tremendously uncomfortable and fighting the urge to throw up. While I still feel tremendously uncomfortable and sick, I will do my absolute best to finish the proposal by tomorrow morning at the latest.
Sincere apologies again,
...
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boowritess · 4 days
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so apparently it's really fucking hard to get into the SAS. and ontop of that I've been getting tiktoks of people going around an army base asking why they joined. most responses were to pay off student loans, bills, school, (someone said there's was 6 years of prison or school and *mental note for idea*), the recruiter lied or spoilt them, barracks bunny.
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141 (poly?) x notsobaddasssoldier!reader
and now i can't stop thinking of soldier!reader. who really half-assed their way through everything - only doing the job for the money and to pay off student loans + they had nothing better to do.
who somehow ends up being adopted by Price (kinda like Gaz i guess ???) all because reader happened to be in the right place at the right time and saved Price's ass while managing to complete a mission the Task Force were doing.
and it's not that you saved his ass or completed the mission that makes Price go *this is mine* - it's the fact that afterwards all you can say is-
"this shit is so not worth paying off my student loans."
"oh fuck i forgot to cancel my subscription. fuckk- waste of fucking money"
- all the while a building is burning in front of you but yeah just not at all concerned about what had just happened. so price just *grabs you by the back of your neck and holds you up, claiming you as part of his task force now.*
(lol you probably can't do that irl but this is fiction sooo suck my ass.)
and laswell's just like no... they are very much still green john. way too green. no.
but it's too late. he's already introducing you to the task force. singing your praises and you're just like
"man he promised to pay off my student loans and give me food." basically how ur recruiter got ya ass.
enough said. you get the whole off the books speech, saving the world by doing things others wouldn't like. but u couldn't give a rats ass - you should but nah...
and like... you know you're the rookie... you're still green... but some of the shit 141 do you just...
"so you just gonna kidnap the wife AND the child...? right... kid, you wanna watch bluey? here..."
"and you do this often...? crazy."
but you don't exactly protest. how could you with how much you get paid. you kinda just side-eye and look away when it's geta a lil crazy. *bombastic side-eye*
and the other 141 guys - oh my days. become just as enormed as price and want to start really trying to amplify your skills. but every time, they start explaining how to do things - the best way to go about a situation or how to fight a certain way.
you pull this face. like your top lip pulls back, your eyebrows scrunch together, and there's a slight frown on your lips as they speak. like you look confused/disgusted. but you don't even realise cause-
"why're you pulling that face?" 141
"that's... that's just my focusing face..."
"oh..." 141 feels bad
then when they do take you in feild you're shaking your head no. like you haven't been around that long. what the fuck? now you're bout to infiltrate an enemy base!?!?!
"can i just wait in the car?"
"no." price
"i'm gonna vomit."
"aim at the enemy." ghost
people think that because you're suddenly in this badass task force that surely they're just using you for your assets.
they all think you're the 141 barracks bunny. and maybe you should be pissed or annoyed or grossed out. but all you can do is sigh and pause from the burger price got you, and let out a long exhale.
"fuck... maybe i can just do onlyfans or be a pornstar... shit maybe it's not too late..."
"military is bascially sex work - selling my body..."
"not that different from what i'm doing now. body being used, check. body sore in the strangest places, check."
your tone so empty, blank and nonchalant, but there's a serious look in your eyes that when you grab your phone out to maybe do a little research on how you could do that, your phone is snatched from your hand by one of the guys and they walk out the room without a second look back.
with an annoyed huff, you go back to eating your burger. but suddenly, you turn to the person who genuinely thought you were a barracks bunny.
"hey you think if i be a barracks bunny i get out of missions and shit?"
"...that's not how it works..." rando.
"fuck."
and maybe you try...
like you go to price's office and the guys are already in there, chatting about something that you should really pay attention too but you can't be assed. instead you unashamedly start to speak...
"if i suck ya'll dicks can i get out the mission?"
"no. you still have to join." gaz says amused
"even if you-" *que long sigh from price* "even if you suck our dicks."
"that's fucked up. i should've done porn."
and with the most hurt and broken-hearted look on your face, you leave the office, closing the door with a dramatic sigh. the guys just stare at the door in... confusion, amusement, and maybe arousal if ya'll dig that
idk man just gimmie more soldier!reader who just really ain't the fucked, there for money, lowkey hungry and doesn't know what the fuck is happening. kinda a pet or little sibling energy that the 141 love.
bonus*
"wait so they aren't sucking our dicks?" *soap says getting slapped in the back of the head by ghost
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a/n: brain is rottinnggg. i should be doing so much other shit but... cod just consumes my brain 24/7
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hanaonesflower · 22 days
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“let me do this for you.”
“let me get that for you.”
“don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.”
when nanami was around, it was like being watched by a hawk. not in a bad way of course, just not a way you're probably used to. he is always on it, taking care of everything from beginning to end, hell bent on you not ever lifting a finger and actually bar you from doing it, even behind his back.
"seriously, kento, I can do it myself!"
"absolutely not, you worked all day, when you come home, I take care of you."
you try to bargain, dishing out facts that he, too, has a full time job that usually pushes him to the brink of exhaustion that he may or may not recover from, yet, here he is, elbows deep in dough, insistent on making pasta from scratch. according to a recipe that you may have briefly mentioned weeks ago that you wanted to try.
you tried to pick up the knife and dice the tomatoes or turn on the stove, he shoos you away.
"this is getting out of control, kento."
"you can help me by taking a nice warm long bath, honey."
nanami knows what he's doing, the majority of the time. but will he ever express that he fumbles from time to time? never. not that his ego is inflated, but because he has prided himself for being to care for you boundlessly.
so when you leave the bath and find kento with his hand in a bucket of ice water, you realize something have gone south in the kitchen.
"kento! what happened?!"
"nothing to worry about my l-"
"enough! tell me, now."
your stern voice and attitude stun him, he's never seen you like this before. his behavior is downright concerning, he hasn't always been this way though. sure, he loves by serving, but he isn't always this stubborn or ridiculously protective. you have always cooked together, why would it be different this time, or the last few times within the past couple of months. nanami isn't unreasonable, but he can be if something pricked at his pride.
"I may have burned myself with the hot steam."
"may have? your skin is having a terrible reaction! for a smart man you can be so clumsy sometimes."
"it's not that bad."
you glare.
"okay, it's pretty burnt and it hurts."
"I bet it does."
you slowly pull his hand out from the ice bucket and lead him to the kitchen table and command him to sit still when you fetch the first aid. his palm is raw from the burn and his face twists in pain when you apply some pressure.
there isn't much conversation exchanged between you and him, but something is definitely hanging above your heads. kento seems to be closed off to it, but you're willing to get to the root of things.
"you haven't been yourself lately."
silence.
"I feel like this is not just about providing for me, something happened, and it affected you."
kento looks saddened by this. you are spot on. something did happen.
a few months ago, during a dinner party amongst friends, kento found himself begrudgingly involved in unpleasant conversations with his colleagues, the way they audaciously questioned his ability to care for his partner when he was always away on work trips or spending extra time at work. he took it to heart, kento questioned himself. he realized, that even though his colleagues were terribly annoying and invasive, they made some considerable points. he made the executive decision to fully take over, spinning a complete 180 on you. at first you thought it was sweet, until it became authoritarian.
"that's really how you feel?"
"have I been absent to you, y/n?"
you contemplate for a while, you truly wish he is around more, but you always understand the nature of his job.
"I do wish I can see you more often, when you had that 2-week long vacation, I was able to spend such amazing quality time with you, and it was awesome, but I also understand how your job is. I didn't want to come in between that."
"so I have been absent." he moaned defeatedly.
"please don't blame it on yourself like this, it's not healthy, I still love you, kento."
"this is all my fault, y/n, I should have been there for you more."
truthfully, you wish he was, but once again, you are both stuck between a rock and a hard place.
"have you been doing all this to somehow compensate?"
"is it working?"
he is trying to humor you, although at quite a horrid time, you still crack a smile.
"I think it's very kind of you."
he sighs.
"please, forgive me, my love. I became what you called a workaholic, I tried to get more hours to provide for you, only to come short in other aspects."
"I'm not an unemployed housewife, kento."
“this isn’t my way of saying that you are incapacitated in any way, i just wish that you didn’t have to worry about anything,” he groaned from the incessant gnawing of the antiseptic on his burnt wound.
“kento, this is a partnership, you’re not my servant and i’m not a spoiled brat,” he felt a little silly, nanami knew this fact yet he felt impotent in this sense. he opened and closed his lips, hoping to get his point across even further but nothing seemed good enough at theis point, he’s done fighting.
“whatever you’re going to say, it’s not going to change the fact that i love you,” you silence him.
“then can i say that i love you, too?”
“that, you can.”
⭒˚‧ ︵‿⭒ཐིཋྀ ཐིཋྀ⭒‿︵ ‧˚⭒ ⭒˚‧ ︵‿⭒ཐིཋྀ ཐིཋྀ⭒‿︵ ‧˚⭒ ⭒˚‧
note: PHEEeewww… it’s really good to be back :33 this piece shall be the redebut as it is one of my cuter fics. going back with smut pieces after such a long hiatus didn’t feel right so – soft nanami is always the way to go!! more content will be coming soon (smut included >.>), stay tuned ( ˘ ³˘)
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cyberm4n · 3 months
Note
You've now filled my head with nothing but Alastor and Lucifer brainrot. Any other sharing thoughts you have for them? (I cannot stop thinking about them, I quite literally thought about them sharing me during my entire 8hr retail shift yesterday)
alastor and lucifer sharing you pt 3!
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pt1, pt2
this was highly requested, thank you all for the love <3 im tagging anyone who asked/was fine with it last time but now you can fill out this taglist form to ensure you're tagged for future posts!
tags: @lu-ferri12 @my-anime-garden @princessdreamss @polytheatrix @reaper-of-light-12 @ambi-squirrelly @hazelfoureyes @meggletoomanyfandoms @afernandez21
cw: angst ig?? idk reader is upset cause they keep fighting, general relationship issues for a moment, smut, reader gets eaten out, there's some light praise and condescension i think, alastor has a master kink, alastor discovers he LOVES eating pussy, there's like a weird sexual tension between alastor and lucifer for the majority of this if you squint, the ending is VERY suggestive
other: not 100% happy with formatting on this but i wrote majority of it on a 6 hour flight so like. you win some you lose some. not proofread that well, i kind of ramble at times too but it's fine. 2.1k word count and half of it is formatted in a headcanon cuase, again, lazy 6 hour writing. i also don't use the bolding and coloring that much cause it'd be a lot of work.
left the ending a little open, will probably do a poll tomorrow on if people want me to take this that direction.
■ okay so sex aside i would think outwardly everyone knows you're in a relationship with lucifer at the very least
■ but it's kept lowkey with the other part of the relationship
■ which both are fine with btw
■ lucifer loves pda so he's happy, alastor isn't a fan so it's whatever
■ the public part works out because alastor would genuinely be worried about someone trying to use you to get to him
■ it's bad enough that it's known the king of hell has a new partner, but nobody knowing that if they fuck with you they're fucking with the king of hell AND the radio demon is a silent advantage
■ if anyone knows, it's charlie. but only to the extent of like the fact it's a hinge relationship, everything else she doesn't know and honestly doesn't need to know
■ she's just happy her dad seems happy and is getting along better with alastor
■ i think alastor is the kind to really start caring during the relationship vs. lucifer caring about you deeply before
■ so occasionally alastor will pull you aside, or if no one is watching will just press a quick kiss on your forehead.
■ meanwhile lucifer is always making it known he's in love with you
■ arm around your shoulder, holding your hand, everything
■ again, alastor doesn't really mind unless lucifer decides to be an ass abt it
■ look they still compete with each other sometimes they can't help it
■ then it becomes a game of how much the other can get away with before you either get upset or it's too telling
■ that's the other thing is like, the competing gets really fucking annoying to you
■ we saw them in hells greatest dad it wasn't a want to be a better dad it's just wanting to out do the other
■ and when it transfers to your relationship it gets agitating fast
moving on
■ relationship side alastor isn't as involved with that
■ but if either of them did something that upset you or like there was a lovers quarrel between you and either side it's a big deal to them
■ especially if you're only upset with one half of the hinge
■ cause like, sure, they could compete with each other and purposefully drive you apart
■ but tbh.. both of them lowkey like this arrangement much more than they thought they would
■ so they end up talking to each other about it and figuring out what to do
■ same if you're upset with both
■ not that you're upset often it's just that when you are it's usually cause they crossed a line in their little competition
■ and they hate making their girl feel like a prize to be won :(
■ whatever their solution is, they do it together.
■ show you they can get along, that they both care about you enough
■ you're in your room, a bit of a blow up happened earlier after they got into one of their arguments
■ it's not that you genuinely think theyre using you to get to the other but sometimes with the way they act it's easy to doubt
■ anyways, they both come in, it's late
■ i cry when im frustrated/upset and i think it's a pretty normal reaction, so let's just say you're crying a little
■ they're both immediately at your side, apologizing profusely
■ you've never cried like this before
■ it scares them. alot.
■ for once there's absolutely no competition, the only worry is making you feel better.
■ both sitting next to you on the couch, lucifer murmuring how much he loves you, and how he knows how much alastor cares for you
■ i hate the whole "alastor doesn't understand emotions" thing because he does. he has to, he knows how to read people well.
■ it's just he hasn't ever comforted someone
■ he doesn't know what to do when someone he cares about is upset
■ so he's glad lucifer is here, as alastor just sits at your side nodding along and gently rubbing your back
■ alastor only tunes back in when lucifer offers to give some space for the night, and a little murmur from you agrees but asks they both come to bed that night
■ given its usually only lucifer who actually sleeps in the same bed as you alastor is surprised
■ but lucifer is beckoning him out for some space.
"cmon, we'll be back in an hour yeah?" he chimes from the door, and with a squeeze of your shoulder alastor is out of the door, but he opts to walk along with lucifer. "we gotta do better" lucifer sighs as he walks, not looking over at alastor. he's not accusing alastor, he seems equally disappointed in both of them.
"for her?" alastor adds, and lucifer gives a hum of agreement. "this while ordeal has been quite... stressful as of late, no?" alastor adds, "to our own faults, yes" lucifer murmurs, giving a sigh. alastor nods, and the two men walk in silence for some time, ending up in the parlor, husk far since gone to bed. "want anything?" lucifer pulls alastor back to reality once again, he's standing behind the bar while alastor had been staring off, his mind running with thoughtd of god knows what.
"whiskey, my friend?" alastor suggests, and giving it a considerate thought lucifer pours two glasses. the silence falls over them again, just the sound of the clink of their glasses on the counter.
"so tell me, how do you do it when you pleasure her?" alastor breaks the silence, lucifers eyes dart up to him. thinking for a moment before replying "i don't really think tonight is the time for that—" lucifer says, but in a gentle tone.
"no no, in the morning." alastor says, staring down at his glass. "you two indulge often in the morning, correct?" alastor says, now his eyes uncomfortably on lucifer. Watching as the other man almost pales a little, swallowing thickly.
lucifer immediately falters, giving a sigh. "look it's not— i‐ that's not her fault–" lucifer immediately starts, assuming this is a confrontation. his eyebrows raise as alastor shakes his head. "oh please, if i had problem with it i would have done something" he says, a static crackle echoing through the room. "no, i want to know how you do it when you... when it's just about her. how can i do the same?" alastor asks, and this is even more surprising to lucifer than this whole fucking idea in the first place.
■ so lucifer of course explains some stuff to him, of course it's hard because unless he's done it before it's hard to articulate some of his "moves"
■ i mean lucifer can hardly resist going down on you everytime, he's definitely experienced but it's hard to transfer that knowledge at times
■ but he's impressed alastor even asked
■ so when they return to your room, they're a lot more calmer with each other than before.
■ that night changed a lot between them tbh
■ it's slightly awkward for both of them when everyone gets settled in the bed
■ you're on your back, lucifer on your right side and alastor on the left.
■ they're both holding you to the best of their abilities
■ lucifer gives alastors hand a squeeze before shuffling it to have a better grasp on your waist
■ you all peacefully sleep through the night, not shifting much but it's pretty comfortable
■ is the morning you're mostly cuddled into alastor, which is entirely lucifers doing
■ when you're all awake though alastor gets arguably nervous
■ but you being you, you slump over onto alastors chest, murmuring some affection to him
■ lucifer gives a nod, it's time.
■ he'd honestly probably move to get out of bed, assuming some privacy is wanted
■ but he feels a shadow wrap around his forearm, it's a light pressure
■ alastor shakes his head, mouthing a small "please"
after lucifer processes for a moment what exactly is about to go down, he's okay with that. he settles back in, his eyes on the two of you as alastor tilts your chin up, pressing a kiss to your lips. "my dear, would you mind if i tried something a little different with you?" alastor chimes, and you blink your eyes open again, still a bit sleepy as you give a nod.
he gently maneuvers you on the bed so you're laying on your back, his hands pawing at your sleep shorts and pulling them to your ankles. lucifer watches, honestly a little mezmerized by the whole ordeal. he feels proud in an odd sort of way. “I think our little doe deserves a treat, would you like that?” alastor murmurs as he spreads your thighs open. You take a shaky breath before murmuring some form of agreement, maybe even a little plea.
without further prodigy, alastors finally leans down his tongue swiping down your folds, hands grasping your hips to pull you to his face. your hands go to hold lucifers, but he shakes his head tutting at you. “ah ah, that��s not very polite princess” he chides softly, guiding your hands to alastors hair.
and alastor makes good use of the tips and information lucifer gave him, his tongue plunging into your sweet little hole as his nose bumps your clit. his eyes wander up, making eye contact with you as he eats you out so wonderfully. you tug at his hair and he practically growls in pleasure, opting to change tactics and focus his mouth on your clit while his fingers slide inside you, gently curling into your sweet spot.
and lucifer watches it all, absolutely mesmerized. he doesnt know what it is about watching this but theres something about knowing alastor is doing exactly as told to in this scenario that makes lucifer feel warm. he lets alastor steal the show, doing only minimal work. maybe hes softly cooing praises or gently reminding you to show your appreciation to the one making you feel this good.
as you get close, evident by the murmur that falls past your lips, alastors eyes snap to lucifers for a moment, and he takes a moment to think before understanding. usually when youre close alastor is all over you, telling you to be such a good girl and cum, just slight praises and coaxing. given the fact hes face deep in your sweetness he cant really do that, so that job is up to lucifer now.
“isn’t alastor doing such a good job duckling? you want to make sure he knows how good hes treating you, dont you?” lucifer coos, scooting in behind you on the bed so you stop trying to writhe away. “I think he’d be so disappointed if you didnt cum for him, you think you can do that, hm? you wanna cum all over your masters tongue?” lucifer says directly in your ear, and alastor feels a bit of a warmth in his stomach by being referred to as “master”
when you give a weak moan in response lucifer sighs, shaking his head. “be a good girl now, you can do it little doe” he says which is what sends you toppling over the edge, your hips rutting up into alastors mouth, whiny moans coming from you as alastor desperately licks up your sweet release. this whole thing was quite enjoyable for alstor, but hearing lucifer call you “little doe” his petname for you made him smugly satisfied.
after some aftercare which mostly just involved more cuddling, alastor feels satiated enough to shift to leave, before getting a look from lucifer. he reluctantly stays, feeling as you come to lay at his side once more. lucifer seems to take note of something, giving alastor a nod down, he glances down, seeing the obvious tent in his pants. alastor looks back up, slightly annoyed. a like “yeah, no shit dumbass” kind of look is exchanged.
alastor looks back down at you, pressing a kiss to your forehead as you sigh happily. but alastor tenses as he feels a hand on his knee, shooting a glare to lucifer as he traces his hand up a little. the two meet as and alastor takes a shaky breath as lucifer leans in just a little, breathing out the next few words with a calmness alastor admires:
“just keep cuddling her”
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awearywritersworld · 10 months
Text
tell me you don't want me
gojo satoru x reader summary: gojo adds falling in love with his dead best friend's little sister to the list of things that keep him up at night w/c: 1.8k tags/warnings: angst to fluff. gojo takes care of reader when they have a migraine. they watch shark week together, so shark haters beware. arguing, but nothing super harsh. protective!gojo. reader is referred to as a sister but there are no pronouns. gojo is around 27, reader 23. curse words. no out right smut, but a heavily suggestive ending so lets say 18+ a/n: i've been writing purely fluff for gojo, so it seems about time to return to my angst/fluff roots. today's epi made me had me feeling some type of way. may write a part two to this? idk lemme know what you think! masterlist check out my latest work for gojo here
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after you arrived at jujutsu high as a first year, everyone wore the same expression when they looked at you, their eyes full of pity and apprehension. you really couldn't blame them though. after what happened with suguru, you were left a shell of yourself, paranoid that you were destined to the same fate as your older brother.
however, the boy that suguru called his best friend held something different in his gaze whenever his eyes fell on you. understanding, maybe? gojo knew that if there was anyone in the world who missed suguru as much as he did, it had to be you.
for most of the year, the two of you really only talked in passing, dancing around a discussion neither of you were brave enough to initiate. then your brother's birthday rolled around and you found yourself drenched in rain, sneaking into the boys' dormitory to knock on gojo satoru's door.
he wasn't surprised to find you standing there.
"that idiot always refused to let me celebrate his birthday," you blurted out, damp hair sticking to your forehead.
he laughed. it was just a breath, but it was still genuine. "right? he couldn't stand being fussed over for one day."
and as you both stood there, rain pattering against the window, you felt months of unspoken tension melt away. "well, come in. i bought cake."
after that day, gojo took on the roll of your older brother and he really leaned into it. flicking your forehead to annoy you, threatening anyone he thought had a crush on you, giving you advice whenever he deemed you needed it.
you weren't sure if he was aware, even after all these years, that he'd saved you— pulled you away from the brink. you became like the little sister he never had, while he tried his best to fill the hole suguru had left in your heart.
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gojo spends more time in your apartment than his own, so it's no surprise when he barges in one afternoon, singing out your name (rather terribly, one might add).
"i have a migraine, 'toru," you groan from the couch, pulling the blanket up over your head as the bright light from behind his figure worsens your discomfort. all of your blinds are shut, the curtains pulled together. "can you please close the door?"
he hums, stepping inside and pulling the door shut quietly. "you seem to be getting them a lot lately."
"probably because i spend so much time with you," you whine facetiously.
he gasps, hand clutching at his heart. "i come all the way here to visit you, only to be ridiculed. my devastation is untellable."
after grabbing a washcloth from the linen closet, he pads over to the kitchen sink. you peer at him from under the blanket as he runs it under cold water, noting how the veins in his forearms become more prominent once he wrings it out.
you're laying across the entirety of the couch, but you scoot away from the edge and he situates himself in the space beside your hip, his body facing you. the corner of his mouth is turned down, evidence of the worry swirling in his chest. he presses the back of his fingers to your forehead before folding the cloth neatly and laying it there.
"you should mention the migraines to shoko," he suggests earnestly.
"they just flare up sometimes, you know that. it's really not a big deal."
"yeah, maybe.. but i still worry about you."
you can't help but notice how close he is and while it feels casual, it also feels... intimate? the cold cloth does bring some relief to your head, though you'd have preferred it if his hand had remained there instead.
"have you eaten?" he questions after a moment, pulling you from your thoughts.
"not yet."
"then i'll go pick up some food," he offers, rising to his feet. "do you need anything else-"
"no," you say a little too quickly, your fingers wrapping around his wrist. "i mean.. can you just stay?"
he suddenly looks very smug. "oh, what's this? are you sure spending more time with me won't make your head feel worse?"
you attempt to roll your eyes but the movement sends a sharp pain through your skull, causing you to grumble. "don't make me hurt you satoru. i was joking."
"i know," he smirks, decently self satisfied. "but you do have to eat, so-"
"there's leftover egg drop in the fridge, can you just warm that up for me please?"
"'course! anything for you, (y/n)-chan!"
his tone makes it sound as if he's teasing you, but he knows it's the truth. he's painfully aware that there isn't a thing you could ask of him that he'd deny. he tries not to think about that though, because he can't bring himself to admit what it all means.
once your soup is ready, he joins you on the couch. you move to sit up and while that makes plenty of room for him, he still lifts your legs, sitting so that they lay across his lap. one of his hands is resting on your shin, the other on your knee.
"shark week?" he suggests as you reach for the remote.
you nod eagerly. "yes."
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the two of you have never fought before.
well, maybe that's not entirely true. it isn't uncommon for the both of you to argue over video games, the latest chapter of a manga, or other things of that nature. but you and gojo have never had a genuine disagreement.
that is, until you mention wanting to challenge a decision made by the higher ups. he's well aware of how they deal with people they deem troublesome, so he can't help the vexation that bubbles up in his chest at your words.
"absolutely not," he tells you. his voice is low, not one hint of amusement to be found.
the tone leaves you narrowing your eyes, and you sound a bit misbelieving when you ask, "what do you mean 'absolutely not'?"
after everything that happened with geto, the higher ups have been wary of you. honestly, they're probably just looking for an excuse to pull another stunt like the detention center and he can't risk that. he can't risk losing you.
rather than express any part of that sentiment, however, he just goes all stone faced and vague. it's weird, so naturally it's followed by a bit of back and forth that goes nowhere, the conversation growing unreasonably volatile with each passing second.
why can't you just listen to him? why can't you give him the benefit of the doubt? he's earned that by now, hasn't he?
"i don't understand!" you hiss, your chest heaving with indignation. "why are you acting like this?"
because i love you. because i need you. because you mean more to me than everything else in this world put together.
he can't possibly say that though.. can't lay his shame bare for you to see.. can't bring himself to admit the feelings he has for you.
he's in love with dead best friend's little sister and it's wrong. it keeps him up at night. claws away at his self respect.
"i'll take care of it," he promises, sounding a bit defeated. "just please stay out of it."
"quit treating me like i'm a child, satoru. you're not my father."
your assertion makes the air in the room shift, and the feeling that forms in the pit of gojo's stomach is not unlike a cord being pulled too taut before snapping.
"so what am i then, huh? what am i to you?" he interrogates, taking a step toward you.
his eyes burn with intensity and the conviction in his voice is dizzying, especially since it's meant only for you. he immediately notices the way you stiffen, suddenly unable to meet his eye.
he swallows thickly, any restraint he has left ebbing away once he hears your small, nervous voice. "'toru, w... what do you-"
you're cut off when he takes another step in your direction, your back meeting with the wall after you attempt to maintain the space between the both of you.
one of his palms presses to the wall beside your head, though the other remains at his side. he doesn't want to trap you there, not when he still doesn't have a clear idea of how you're feeling.
his breath fans across your face, your mind struggling to process what was happening. you whisper his name, unsure of how else to respond.
"i want you." he nearly chokes on the words, the pain of admitting them evident in his voice. "want you more than anything."
and he does. he wants you more than the sleep he never gets. more than he wants to honor suguru. more than he wants to be a good man.
his head dips down, your breath catching in your throat when his lips find the spot on your jaw just below your ear.
"please, tell me to stop," he begs, sending a shiver down your spine.
your hands move to his chest, the rise and fall of it uneven and sporadic. god, you make him so fucking weak it's almost pathetic.
his lips shift to your cheek, closer to your mouth, and his hand reaches up to cradle the other side of your face. he sounds irrevocably desperate now, "tell me you don't want me."
your heart's beating so loudly in your ear drums, you can hardly hear yourself speak. "satoru, please."
"please what?" he asks, and for a moment you're unsure of the answer.
you try to open your mouth once more, but the words are lodged in your throat. confusion and frustration rattle around in your head, making it difficult to string together your thoughts. finally you just give in, grabbing his face between your hands and pulling his lips against your own.
he let's out a strangled noise, some unknowable mix of pleasure and relief. his hands land on your hips at once, greedily pulling your body against his own.
his lips are chapped, but they're perfect in the way they move against yours. the kiss isn't clumsy, nor is it unsure. it's ardent and comfortable, as if it's the most natural thing in the world.
you pull away first, each of you holding the other's gaze. you're both hazy eyed, your mouths curved into giddy, lovesick grins.
gojo doesn't hesitate when you glance down at his lips, your words easing that bitter self loathing he'd been enduring for longer than he cares to admit. "if you want me... then make me yours."
taglist: @torusmochi @moonmalice
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michaellangdonswhore · 8 months
Text
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warnings: again, smut. put me in a fucking hospital.
word count: 5.5k
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You were, by far, Jonathan Crane's least favorite student.
You knew it, and it was complete bullshit. You were always on time, always in every class, and always completed the work. You had always had such good grades in every class, but not with him.
While not giving you the worst grade imaginable, you were never able to get over an A-, which pissed you the fuck off. Obviously, to any other normal student studying psychology, they'd take the A-, but not you.
And again, nothing over an A-. There was the frequent B+, sometimes B, and when you really pissed him off he would go as low as a B-.
You've done everything you could to get him to like you. You would ask questions, clearly put extra effort into the homework, and even applied to laboratory studies that he ran. You hated not being liked.
However, at this point in the year, you had given up on trying. You still did everything you were supposed to do, because you wanted a good grade, but you hadn't bothered participating or showing any interest anymore. You had decided to focus more on your other classes. Due to this, you had been working late into the night, causing you to be exhausted for your 8 AM lectures with Crane.
You were exhausted, trying to pay attention. Your head hurt so much for looking at a screen for so long last night.
Crane is flipping through a slideshow, and you find yourself dozing. It's not that this stuff bored you, you had just already learned it back when you took AP Psych your sophomore year of high school.
You snap back into reality when you hear your name being called.
Crane is singling you out with an annoyed expression on his face. You turn red because everyone, all 400 other people in the class, are staring at you.
"I'm sorry. Is this boring you?" He puts his hands on his hips.
"No-" You begin.
You're stammering. You normally don't have such a rough time with public speaking, but being downright exhausted and being singled out for nearly falling asleep in class is extremely embarrassing.
He pauses for a moment and stares you down.
You feel as if you were naked, as if you were completely exposed to him. You didn't like him looking at you like that, like he was taking into account every imperfection.
"As I was saying..."
Thank god.
He resumes to what he was talking about before and you're more alert, heart pumping full of humiliation. You're taking notes now, typing quickly and probably annoyingly loud (you can tell because he keeps shooting you small glares every time you hit the spacebar).
Finally, the hour is up and he reminds everyone about the homework due that Friday. You collect your stuff and head out the door. You don't realize, but he watches you leave.
Everything you do irks him.
Maybe it was because your first paper challenged his psychological beliefs, or because your intelligence challenged him in general. But literally everything about you pisses him off.
Your loud typing, your questions that challenges his lectures, how you turn everything in on time, how you flawlessly converse with the other students. He is so desperately waiting for you to slip up.
As previously stated, you were putting less effort than before into his class. He picked up on this. You were turning your papers and chapter readings in the last minute, you weren't asking questions, and you were even falling asleep.
You had three days to complete a portion of the assignments given. You completely forgot about it.
Due to your tiredness and your weakening desire to try for the class, you had forgotten to write down the homework in a planner that you always checked daily.
Crane is a quick grader, and usually he always grades your homework first; more specifically, as soon as you turn it in.
You realized you didn't do the work as soon as you woke up that morning for your 8 AM class. You had never ever missed an assignment. Ever. And you had no time to do it and make it to his class on time. You were freaking the fuck out.
It's okay. Maybe he hasn't graded it yet.
But no. He was such a strict grader. He was harsh.
Whatever. You may as well hope for the best.
To distract yourself from your predicament, you talk to the boy who sits next to you in the class. It's just smalltalk about the workload and about an upcoming test.
You stop talking when Crane clears his throat. You shift back in your seat and open your laptop.
"It's a Friday. It's 8 AM," Crane begins. You think this is going to be the introduction of a psychological speech. "For all 399 of you that did your homework last night, go enjoy your Friday morning."
People being looking around and whispering, not sure if this is a trick, but you know it's not.
You're freaking out. Your heart is racing and you cannot believe that he would actually do this to you. Usually teachers will just give you a bad grade and call it that, but to single you out and have the entire class leave except for you is an all time low.
"I'm not messing with you," Crane continues. "Go. You know who you are."
He's looking at you dead in the eye and you stay put as people slowly get up to leave, looking around to make sure others are doing the same. You avoid his gaze, looking at your computer screen.
Soon enough, everyone is out of the large lecture room, some looking back to see the one person who didn't do their work.
Once the door is shut, and everyone is completely out of sight, Crane locks both of the doors and looks up at you.
"Are you deliberately trying to fail my class?" He questions. "I thought you wanted to be outstanding."
You can't find words to say. He scoffs and moves to his desk, shuffling through papers and bringing out a decently large stack to over to you. It feels like hours pass by as he walks up the steps to you and drops them onto your desk.
You look at them, confused.
"This is the homework that was due at midnight." He explains.
"It's never so much..." You stammer. You can feel his hatred burning into your skin.
"It's what's due next Wednesday, Friday, and the following week too. Let's see if you can get this done by.... hm," He checks his watch. "By the end of the period?"
"All of this?" Your eyes widen.
"When's your next class?" He asks.
"You're my only one today." You continue to avoid his eye contact.
"Then you can stay." He says. "Until you finish all the work."
"But-"
"I can't trust that you'll do it." Crane says, taking a step back from you. "You need to complete it. In front of me."
"Please, Professor," You try to defend yourself. "I've been-"
"I can assume what you've been doing, you've almost fallen asleep in my class." He scoffs.
You feel your cheeks heat up with embarrassment over him getting the wrong impression. Does he really think that low of you?
You take a deep breath. You'll just have to deal with this.
"Do you have a pencil?"
He grabs a black pen from his desk and looks up to you, motioning to sit in the front row. Close enough. You swallow your pride and grab your things and the stack of paper, walking down to the seats in the front.
The class itself is an hour, but it took you almost five to complete the amount of homework he gave you. The readings were long, and the quality of work was demanding. You were eager to do well, to prove yourself.
You hate that he hated you.
His eyes were on you the entire time you did your work. The silence was loud, but you pushed through it. You got three weeks of homework done, and proudly put the stack back onto his desk.
"I'll see you Monday, Professor," you smile, then walk away.
After that, you tried harder; harder than you tried compared to every other class you took. You did this, not to get him to like you- but to get back at him with the fact that you knew your shit; you were a good student. You sat in the front, did side research, and spent nights studying for his endless quizzes. And he wanted to fail you to make you stop what you were doing, but you were getting all the answers right and you both knew that. He wouldn't want you taking anything to the next level.
With you in the front, it made it harder for him to not be distracted by you. Mid speech he would find himself locking eyes with you, disrupting his words and leaving him stammering for a brief moment. Ever since you've upped the eye contact, you've gained more control of the situation.
You arrived in class that Wednesday; the situation in which Crane forced you to stay and do two weeks worth of work in front of him occurred around three weeks ago. You're sitting in the front in between two empty seats; no one likes to sit in the front in Crane's class. It's usually only filled with around three to four people. Crane isn't in class yet, which is weird considering he's always there early, before anyone else even gets there. The class is almost about to begin and he's never been late.
Soon enough, it's one minute after the class is supposed to start and he's still not there. You start feeling antsy, wondering where he is.
Finally, he walks in; two minutes after class is supposed to start. So unlike him.
He places his briefcase on the desk and begins setting up his computer while everyone takes out something to take notes with.
"Now, you all know what I specialize in, I hope," He states, not breaking eye contact with his computer.
He specialized in phobias. Apart from dedicating his time to teaching you, he was a therapist mainly for fears.
"I'm sure we all know what exposure therapy is, correct?" He asks. Pretty much the whole class nods in unison. "Good. For those of you not on the same page, it's the type of therapy which someone is exposed to their fear or trauma."
He begins flipping through his slideshow, giving more and more information and lecturing about it, but you can't help but notice it's an almost bias review.
You're left with homework to write a review on some boring documentary on the history of exposure therapy and a pretty long excerpt of the textbook you all were reading.
So, you did your work and followed all of the instructions. You wrote a review on exposure therapy.
The next Monday, you get to class and you sit in the front row. There's a big stack of paper on Crane's desk, and you assuming that you're getting a pop-quiz, but no, that's not the case.
Crane's waiting for everyone with his shoulder rested on the large stack of papers. Once the time hits 8, he begins.
"I printed out all of your outlines," He begins. "I've made some comments and given some feedback. We'll spend the class working on them."
He starts calling out names and one by one, people receive their papers. You're sort of anxious- you left a pretty negative review on exposure therapy, something that he seemed so passionate about.
"Y/N Y/L/N." He says, saying your voice with more of an annoyed tone than the other students. You get up and grab your paper from his hands, tugging harder due to his firm grip. Clearing his throat, he continues calling out the following names. You go back to your seat, nervous to look at the paper. When you sit and look at it, your stomach dropped.
There's nothing on the front page. Then you look at the second.
See me after class.
There is literally nothing but a see me after class.
Oh my god.
What did I do?
Was he offended at all by what was written? Surely, that wasn't your intention... yes, you wanted to piss him off, but you had some respect for him. You didn't want to actually maybe- make him insecure about his work?
Class seemed to take hours to go by; you didn't even know what to do about your paper. He gave no other feedback other than to see him after class. How were you supposed to work with that?
You looked around at your classmates typing away. You're annoyed that he actually helped them.
See me after class.
At least give me feedback on my fucking paper.
Everyone then realized the time and began to pack up. Crane stood up from his desk and took his glasses off.
"Remember, papers are due Friday!" He manages to get out before people start heading out the door.
You put your things in your bag, trying to act out to your classmates as if you were leaving. You felt so embarrassed. You hated how he kept embarrassing you and how he had the power to do that. It was infuriating. You felt him staring at you as you packed your stuff up, moving slower, nervous that he would call you out.
You took your time, though, waiting till everyone was out of the room.
With everyone else there, you felt so confident. You were one of the smart ones and you at least had witnesses, but alone with him? You were completely inferior. He could quite literally ruin your life with a bad grade and could easily tarnish your image, being the head of Arkham and all that.
"I found your paper quite interesting," He says, emphasizing quite.
"I'm sorry-" you begin. "I didn't mean to offend you."
"Offend me?" He scoffs. "You think you offended me?"
"I just- I know this is what you do, right?" You stammer.
"I'm interested in your point of view." He says. "About the pain, how it's long term. I'm interested as to why you seem so against it."
You shrug.
"What's your biggest fear, Y/N?" He asks you. "What is it? Failure?"
"I'm not trying to fail."
"Oh, yes, you've proven that." He clicks his tongue. "Sitting in the front, turning things in quickly, wearing shorter skirts. Don't think I don't notice what you're doing."
"What?"
"You write intensely about the struggle that people with PTSD-"
"Wait," you interrupt him. "What did you say?"
"I'm trying to discuss with you what you've written."
"Professor, my clothing choices have nothing to do with me wanting to do well in this class," you say. Now you're offended.
Instead of apologizing, which is what you think any decent person would do, he looks you up and down and scoffs.
"You're wearing tights."
"What?"
"Surely, those must be uncomfortable. You're not wearing those to satisfy yourself," he says.
You grow red, and angry.
He keeps humiliating you.
"Who are you trying to impress?"
"Will you stop?" you groan in frustration. "Why don't you just let me get by like you let everyone else get by? I do everything you ask!"
"I want to know who you're trying to impress."
"I'm not trying to impress anyone," you hiss, finally looking up at his crystal eyes.
You know it's disrespectful, but you turn to walk away and to leave.
"No, no. We're not done."
You ignore him, walking towards the door, but he quickly beats you to it, shutting it and locking you in.
"I said we're not done." He said, completely composed. "Sit."
"I want to leave."
"Your biggest fear is failure, yes?" He questions. You don't nod or shake your head, but it is pretty much true; you hate failing. You need to succeed and be good at everything you do. "Sit. I can very much make that fear come true."
"I do everything," you repeat. "Everything. I do it on time, I'm here always, I'm prepared for everything."
"Can you just fucking-" He pushes you down onto the seat next to his desk. "Sit?"
You weren't expecting him to physically force you to sit down, but you could pick up on the pent up frustration he had with you.
"The off the cut sweater, no bra-" He points out.
You weren't wearing a bra. You were surprised he had picked up on the fact- you could've been wearing a strapless, but no. He was right.
"Are you even wearing underwear?" He whispers.
You're flushed.
What the fuck was going on?
You thought he hated you.
And yeah, you knew he was an attractive man, that's what made this whole thing pretty exciting, but you never thought you would be sat down with him leaning over you saying things like this.
"Let me see."
"Professor?"
He grabs you off the chair and pushes you onto his desk, spreading your legs for you. Everything was moving too quickly; this all felt like a fever dream.
He tugs at the middle of your tights, ripping them open to expose your- and he was right- bare pussy. He lets out a chuckle.
"You're not trying to impress anyone?" He questions, again, peering up at you.
You try moving your thigh to cover yourself, but he forcefully keeps them open.
"Who was that boy you used to sit next to... Tim, is it?"
To be honest, you really didn't know that kids name. He was just someone you sat next to out of habit since you had picked that seat the first day of classes. But you hadn't been sitting with him for weeks at that point.
"Is Tim who you're trying to impress?"
"No!" You argue, still trying to fight the grip of his hand off your thigh. "I told you... I'm not trying to impress anyone."
"Hm." He says, placing two fingers on exactly the right spot of your clit, slowly rubbing in circles. . "You're not even trying to impress me?"
You stay silent, for a brief moment.
"Not in this way..."
But it's past that point now. He's already touching you, rubbing faster, and your exposed pussy is laid out right in front of his face. You're embarrassed and self conscious. He's too close for comfort.
"Yeah?"
The fingers once on your clit are now entering you. You still can't comprehend the situation.
But for him, he was putting you in your place. It was enough of the looks in class, the semi sexual and revealing clothing, the obvious need for his approval and to show him she was as smart- maybe even smarter than him himself.
"Is that why you're letting me touch you like this?" He asks, using the two fingers to pump your pussy.
It's out of your control but you're getting wetter the longer and faster he fingers you. It's beginning to show, beginning to drip down his fingers and onto his wrists. He notices this, then stops and looks.
"Disgusting," He huffs before licking his fingers clean.
"That's disgusting," You repeat at him, glaring a little, but you can't help but want his finger- more of him back inside you. You feel empty, desperate for his hands back on you.
"I don't see you asking me to stop."
You're silent, again.
He smiles, kneeling back down and spreading your legs open again, this time with a more forceful grip. He doesn't use his fingers this time, devouring you with his hot mouth and basically digging in.
He was really good at this. To be fair, no one had ever actually eaten you out, but you had never felt anything like it. He moves his fingers towards you again and fucks you with them as he sucks and licks at your clit. He was freakishly good. You felt something drip down your thigh; you didn't know if you were sweating or if you were fucking leaking. By the sound of it, probably the second one.
He removes his fingers and dives deep into your pussy more, making obscure sounds as he does so. He stops and looks up at you.
"Take your shirt off. I want to see your tits," he demands.
You comply; he's already seen a lot.
"Fuck, they're perfect." He says, now standing over you, playing with them and poking and twisting at your hardened nipple. He's pushing his hardened clothed dick into your bare pussy, giving you some friction has he sucks on your neck and plays with your nipples.
He grabs your hips and flips you over, putting you on your stomach and leaning you over the desk.
He kneels back down, eating your pussy again; he can't get enough of it. He can't get enough of the small whines escaping your throat and the way you leak and how you shake when it feels good- or when the pleasure becomes too much.
He adds his fingers in again, this time three, and you let out a louder, but not too loud, moan than usual.
"Professor-"
"You can take it." He assures you. "You better take it. If you can't take this how can you take my cock?"
You just weren't used to it- you had been fucked, but not for so long. He keeps licking and devouring your clit while pumping in and out of you. You feel so full- on the brink. You feel hot, and god you feel good. You don't even realize it, but you're riding his mouth and his fingers.
"You know, I wasn't going to let you come," Crane begins between breaths, keeping his face close to your pussy so you could still feel him. "But now that I think about it... I want you cum drunk on my dick. I wanna make you cum over and over again until you're a fucking mess."
He goes back to sloppily and messily eating you out again. It was so dirty; the noise, what was leaking out of you. You then felt that familiar feeling and you couldn't stop it; no matter how wrong this felt or how humiliated and exposed you felt, you couldn't stop yourself from moaning like a mess and cumming all over his mouth.
You needed a second to recover, but he stood up and grinded his clothed dick against you. You weren't ready for the friction, wincing over the contact with you sensitive clit. He grabbed your neck and pulls your back to him, kissing you, continuing to grind.
He unbuttons his pants and undoes his boxers, his large thick cock springing out, begging to be touched. He pushes one of your legs up onto the desk to give him better access to you.
"You're fucking soaked," He says as he teases himself some more, collecting what's came out of you as some lubricant.
He keeps rubbing your clit and the outside with his dick, back and forth. It feels good, but it's not enough. He pushes harder with his dick on your clit, continuing to hump you.
"Professor, please," you look back at him, trying to guilt him into giving in and fucking you, but it's not that easy.
"Shut up, and let me take my time." He says. He continues this for a little, before getting a new idea. "I want you to cum on my cock without me fucking you."
"What?"
He pulls you towards him then on his lap on the chair next to his desk.
"Grind on it." He demands, holding you in place by your hips. "Get it soaked."
You hesitate, but he's impatient. He pushes you down and moves your hips for you until you begin to do it with him. You grind your pussy against his cock, stimulating your clit once more. It didn't feel as good as his mouth, and god it probably didn't feel as good as his dick would feel inside you, but it felt good. And you were so fucking horny, you were on the brink of cumming again.
"Yeah, yeah, you got it," he praised you, rocking your hips back and forth. He digs his nails into your hips, definitely leaving some cuts in your skin, but you didn't care. You were so close. He begins to bounce up, pretending to thrust into you, adding to your pleasure. "That's it, you- oh fuck, yes, cum on my fucking dick."
You're dripping onto him as you ride out your high, clenching around nothing. It seems to last for a while, wrapped up in all the pleasure combined with his dirty talk.
He angles his cock towards your entrance and pushes into you- he feels hot and he's sensitive due to teasing himself. But no- he doesn't want to cum yet. He wants to put you in your fucking place. And even if he does cum, he has no issue continuing and even fucking a baby into you. Then, you'd have to walk around with the shame.
He gently picks you up, but then harshly slams you up and down repeatedly onto his cock. You've had no time to readjust after cumming a second time, and you were extremely sensitive.
"Slower, professor, please," You cry, burying your face into his shoulder. "It hurts..."
"Shut the fuck up."
He grabs you by the neck and pounds up into you, rubbing your clit as well to add to the sensation.
Yes, it feels good, but it's so overwhelming you can't help but tear up. Crane notices this and it goes straight to his head.
"Are you fucking crying?" He scoffs. "Fucking crying for me?"
He picks you up, keeping you firmly attached to his dick, and throws you over the desk again. He's fucking you deeper and at an animalistic pace; like he fucking needs this.
"Keep crying for me. Keep fucking crying."
He harshly grips your tits, twisting your nipple in the process.
"Fucking perfect tits, perfect pussy, perfect everything. You fucking strive for perfection- but you're letting me fucking ruin you. Is this how far you'd go for a good grade?" He laughs, fingers deep in your clit.
You can only moan in response, but this doesn't satisfy him.
"Fucking answer me."
"Yes," you cry out.
"Yeah, you're just a fucking whore who'd sleep her way to the top if that's what it took." He says, tugging your hair back, your sweaty bodies pressed closer together.
His words are filthy, but you're fucking cumming again.
He's laughing, mocking you for doing so.
"You fucking like being treated like a bitch, don't you?" He says, fucking you through your third orgasm. You don't know how he's not tired. As you expect, he doesn't give you a fucking break. You're worn out at this point; almost numb.
"Professor, I don't know-"
"You don't know if you can keep going?" He questions. "Yeah, you can. I'll fucking make you keep going. What was that... your third orgasm? Let me see if I can double that."
"Professor..."
"I'll stop when you give me three more."
You feel like you're going to pass out; the pleasure had become too much, but you were so fucking sensitive that a fourth one had come quickly. Your pussy was so swollen and red, but he had not gotten off of you.
"You're fucking..." He brings you back to the chair and places you on top of him. "You're fucking leaking all over me, fucking hell. So wet... do you hear yourself?"
You could hear yourself. It was disgusting. It was filthy.
"Aren't you embarrassed?" He asks. He slows down his pace, and you know he's teasing you. "Embarrassed that you're whoring yourself out to me like this? To a professor that so clearly disliked you? This is what you do for my approval."
He slows his pace some more.
"Would you do this for any other professor, Y/N? Let them fuck your pussy till you have nothing left to give? Bounce on their cock the way you do for me?"
"No, professor," you shake your head, trying to bounce faster but he keeps your hips in place, restricting you. He had succeeded- made you cum drunk and fucked you stupid, but this wasn't enough. He needed more. "No, no, only you. I'd only do this for you."
You're squirming around on his dick. He's stopped moving at this point, just staying in you.
"Stop fucking moving around. Don't you want to impress me?"
"Have I not?" You begin to regain some of your strength with this somewhat of a break he was giving you. "Have I not impressed you, professor?"
You give him puppy eyes as you gain some control of the situation, his grip loosing and you bouncing on his cock at a pace you like.
"I want to impress you, professor," you say seductively. "I want to- fuck!"
You start chasing your high again, you didn't even realize that you'd ever be able to cum this many times.
"Fuck!" You repeat. Crane is letting you take control, enjoying the show of you riding his cock, using him for your pleasure. "Do you like this, professor? Do you like when I fucking bounce on your dick like this?"
You had never heard yourself like this, or ever expected to talk like this. You had never felt so confident.
"Have you imagined this professor?" You continue. He's obviously at a loss for words, not expecting this side of you. "Have you imagined fucking me? Have you imagined bending me over your desk and eating me out till I came all over your face? My tits? Putting me in my fucking place?"
His hands found your hips again and he's helping you ride his cock. He's loving the words coming from your mouth.
"God, I think you wanted this more than I did," you laugh. You're so close. You wanted him to talk, but his reactions to your words were enough for you. "Make me cum again, professor, please. I- fuck!"
He's pushing into you and bouncing you up and down quickly and you're riding out your fifth orgasm.
He pulls you off of him and lays you out on the desk again, licking up your sore pussy. He hums while doing this, telling you how you taste so good. You're so- so sensitive, though, and you can't help but cumming on his tongue again not even seconds later, letting out a string of incoherent words.
That's six.
You look at him, but he's positioning himself in you.
"You said six-"
"I say a lot of things. I want you to cum on my cock again." He says, kissing your neck. "Last time. I promise."
He pumps into you, at a softer, but still quick pace. You feel so incredibly numb, but he still manages to work you up quickly while fondling your breasts and pressing hot kisses into your neck.
"Ah- fuck." He pants, fucking himself into you. "Fuck... gonna cum in you. Want you to fucking carry me around for the rest of the fucking day."
You don't object- your hearing was probably a little impaired at this point.
"Yeah, you want that, don't you. It's like a fucking award to you."
He's holding you closer now. You both are so sweaty and sticky.
You're about to cum again, but he grabs your throat tightly.
"Fucking wait for me. Don't be impatient."
As hard as it is, you listen to him. He speeds up, becoming sloppy before he cries, "Fuck, cum! Cum all over my fucking- ahhh, yes, fuck."
He shoots hot loads into you as you clench around him, milking more out of him. He doesn't stop, continuing to fuck you until every last bit of his seed has marked you. Even after he's done, he gets a few more strokes in before he pulls out, showing the combination of you and him leaking out of your pussy. He pushes you onto the floor and presents his dick in front of him.
"Clean it."
You obey, wrapping your mouth on his cock and licking away the filth that the two of you made. He groans and pulls you off of him.
"You'll get me hard again." He says.
He puts all his clothes back on and hands you your sweater. Your nipples are hard, poking through them now.
"I look forward to your next draft of your review." Crane says calmly, as if what just happened didn't happen.
"You- um..." you stammer, brushing your fingers through your hair. "You didn't give me any notes."
"I didn't?" He questioned. You shook your head. "Well, stay again after class next session. I'll go over it, personally, with you."
"Oh." You blush. "This wasn't a one time thing?"
"Y/N..." Crane looks at the floor. "I'm your professor."
You felt awkward. Of course it was a one time thing; how could it not be?
But then he looks back up at you.
"You don't want to fail my class, do you?"
3K notes · View notes
eustasskidagenda · 6 months
Text
Okay, this post is not based on a request. I kept thinking about it for hours and finally decided to write it down: how the OP characters would text their s/o. So here are some texting headcanons for some of my favorite characters: Eustass Kid, Zoro, Sanji, Law, Sabo. I'll probably write a part 2 with my other beloved characters: Luffy, Marco, Killer, and Robin. :D
☆Texting HCs for Kid, Law, Sanji, Zoro & Sabo
CW : g/n reader, MDNI, Kid is cursing, fluff, funny, partly nsfw, mention of alcohol for Zoro 
WC : 2k
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Kid
Your name/photo in his contacts: mine. With a photo of your ass, obviously. And when he's mad at you, he renames you mid(ge).
Such a brat.
His wallpaper: a cool photo of his motorbike (I'm sorry but Kid is that kind of man in love with his own bike/car. But it's okay, he's still my favorite.) Or, a pic of your ass.
What kind of pictures are in his gallery: your ass, random photos of your face when he’s teasing you, his bike, and some punk stuff (music, makeup, outfit etc.)
His fav emoji : none.
He likes to send really, really shorts messages. Like : 
"Hi" "u know" "i have an idea" "So listen:"
Goddam Kid, just write the WHOLE sentence in one message.
He's sending you random pictures of his torso, just to flex with his big tiddies.
And you have to respond with a heart emoji and praise him each time.
If you want, he's more than willing to send dick pick too. 
Again, you have to praise him. Even if the pictures are absolutely non-aesthetic. He's blessing you with his cock after all. 
"Babe, you don't know how to take beautiful pics of your dick." "WTF SHUT UP???????? It's MY dick???!!! OF COURSE IT'S BEAUTIFUL??!!!" 
Yeah, Kid is clearly using extra punctuation. 
Oh, sure, each morning, you receive a mirror selfie of his outfit of the day. Such a punk fashion icon. "Rate my outfit on a scale of amazing to amazing" 
He doesn't use emojis because they sound too soft and stupid. "em0teS aRe f0r s0fT b0ys Y/N"
If you complain about his messages looking cold, he might use random emotes to annoy you like "UgH iF U wAnt 🦬" (with that stupid dumb sponge bob meme)
Whenever he calls you, it seems like he's yelling through the phone. 
He likes using caps lock like "HEY Y/N, WANNA FUCK TONIGHT??????" 
He's sending you random punk/rock music. And you have to listen and react to every single music, otherwise he's so pissed off. He is sharing his world with you, the less you can do is interact with him. 
He also loves sending some pics of what he's working on, because Kid likes to repare/custom some cars or motorbike. 
And last thing, I like the idea of Kid Pirates being a punk music band, so sure, Kid loves to send you some videos of him playing guitar. "My fingers are skilled in three things : music, crafting and fingering you all the fucking day long"
His phone is so damaged because he throws it every time he gets angry (like every two minutes).
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Law
Your name/photo in his contacts: y/n-ya. With a cursed picture of you. Just to tease you with it. 
His wallpaper: nothing, just the random by default home screen. In his view, wallpapers are useless and pointless.
What kind of pictures are in his gallery: random pictures you took of him, emo memes, and boring stuff about medicine or basic hygiene rules for Luffy. And a guide to "how to stop screaming and how to control your anger: a guide for children" for Kid. 
His favorite emoji: 🖕🏻
Whenever you annoy him with a stupid joke or a prank you saw on TikTok, his immediate reaction is to block you. He's so annoyed, please, leave him alone. He is immediately aware that it is a prank. Luffy always does the same to him before you do.
He's never using capital, it's for the emo aesthetic, like 'I hate bread'. Nope. But ✨"i hate bread."✨, yeah, much better
And yes, he uses "." everytime, it's for the dark and tired emo aesthetic. 
He always leaves a group conversation as soon as you include him. Please, he's so pissed off by those kinds of things. 
He's able to leave your message seen for days. Just because he was busy and forgot about what you said. If you need an answer, sure, try to call him. He always keeps his phone in silent mode. 
He likes to send you cool articles that he reads. Especially about medicine, tattoos or nerd stuff like movies, books, games etc.
"wanna go to a date tattoo with me tomorrow?" 
That kind of question is clearly his love language
He enjoys teasing you with random photos of his tattooed fingers or chest. "I bet you miss these fingers." And yeah, he's clearing curling his fingers on the pic like he would do when they are inside you. He's really good at teasing you with photos. 
Kid and Luffy steal his phone whenever he's with them. So be ready to receive a lot of ugly pictures of Law (taken by the chaotic duo), middle fingers from Kid, and blurry meat pictures from Luffy. 
Poor Law deserves a break.
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Sanji 
Your name/photos in his contacts : 💗💘🛐Mon Amour (my love)🛐💘💗 With the most beautiful picture of you. 
His wallpaper : a cute couple photo.
What kind of pictures are in his gallery : a lot of cooking videos or photos, you, aesthetic pic of the sky and a private album with some hot nudes that you sent to him.
His favorites emojis : 💘💗💖🛐💍🧎🌺🌸🌹🫦🥰😘🧑🏻‍🍳🍽🍷🥘 (yeah, Sanji LOVES emojis)
He's always texting you back. If he can't reply within a second, he won't open the text. Sanji, leaving his beautiful s/o with that awful "seen"? Never. 
All the mornings "good morning sweetheart 💘" and all the evenings "sleep well sweetheart, dream about me 💖"
He wants to take a cute and aesthetic pic of the both of you all the days. 
He bombards you with pictures of his cooking. It's cute, but also annoying because he can't help but send extra long texts. He describes every single action he did, along with recipes and tips. 
He enjoys seeing your outfit of the day. He can attempt to match his clothes to yours. 
Random "I love you 💖" and "if no one told you you were pretty today : you're the prettiest 🥰" 
He enjoys sending you cooking videos. "We should eat this tonight. What do you think? 🧑🏻‍🍳"
He's pretty good at sexting. He knows how to take aesthetic photo of his hands, back, or mouth. Not just an ugly dick pick (Kid, Zoro, I'm looking at you). And he also likes to leave you some message like.
I would sit you down on this table if you were with me right now. You know, the one in your kitchen where he had dinner with your parents yesterday? I would gently kiss your neck, fondle your chest, and slowly kneel between your legs until you shout my name. You would pull on my hair, begging me to keep going until you cum repeatedly on my face.  👅 "
And if you send him a nude, well, he's going to die from a nosebleed.
Rest in peace, Sanji. 
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Zoro
Your name/photos in his contacts : "y/n". You pick a picture for him because Zoro and phones are not compatible.
His wallpaper : a cool katana
What kind of pictures in his gallery : gym selfies, katanas and alcohol (all with ugly quality)
His fav emojis : 👍🏻 and 😴 Like:
"hey Zoro, you're alright" 👍🏻
"Zoro, wanna hang out?" 😴
"Babe, what are you doing?" 😴
"… am i annoying you?" 👍🏻
He can responds to absolutely anything with those two emojis. 
Zero is so oblivious, so let's be honest: he is not good at using phones. Almost every day, he forgets his phone at home. And even if he didn't forget about it, it's probably on silent mode or just off.
He doesn’t know how to use the keyboard, so prepare yourself for coded-message like "o!. @= sp⛑t t🧹day???/!df🆎e !!"He can't even use the excuse "my cat walked on my keyboard", he just sucks with technology.
Your messages are often "seen ✔️" and that's all. Not because he wants to be mean, just... he didn't understand the concept of answering every text. He takes all of your messages as random information. Like "Hey, I'd love to see you tonight!". Well. OK. Message understood. That's all.
The only application he has on his phone is Google Maps. Even with it, he still gets lost. "Turn left." Without a doubt, he turns right. 
Once, he tried to please you with a dick pic. But the photo was just terrible: bad luminosity, an ugly close-up of his cock, blurred as fuck, and you can see the dirty tissue behind him.
He doesn't answer when you call him because he's either asleep or at the gym (or drunk).
Once, he also tried to send you a voice message, but it was just the sound of the wind. He forgot to talk closer to the microphone.
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Sabo 
Your name/photos in his contacts : "my revolutionary 🎩💛". With a beautiful pic of your smiling face. 
His wallpaper : a symbol of revolution. 
What kind of pictures in his gallery : petition screenshots, his brothers, you, anti-capitalist memes and a private album with some hot pic of you (naughty Sabo)
His fav emojis : 🔥✨🖕🏻💛✊🏻😡😏😎🤩👉🏻👌🏻🫵🏻
Sabo is... complicate. Sometimes, he doesn't answer for WEEKS. And sometimes he's extra chatty. And when he's chatty well...
Sabo is always spamming you with petition links. "Save the dolphins", "save the monkeys", "fuck capitalism", "for the resignation of *insert random politician name*" 
"Hey sweetheart, manifestation tomorrow. See you there!! 🫵🏻" 
When it's not petitions, it's probably videos or articles. Sabo is a pure revolutionary. Be prepared to receive lengthy texts when he wants to fight for a cause. It's cute, honestly. He's really involved and passionate. 
"You, me, on a trip tomorrow?! 😏"
Sabo has a knack for surprising you with trips, so prepare yourself. This man craves adventure and surprises. He wants you to join his crazy journey. 
Sometimes, he's using proper grammar and punctuation, sometimes he's using a lot of !!!!!!!!??????? And caps lock. Especially when he's furious about something.  He makes a lot of typo errors because he's always in a rush while typing.
Let's fught  *figrt *fijkt *FUCK *LET'S FIGHT (and fuck)
He enjoys taking pictures of you unexpectedly because it makes you seem more natural. 
"So… sweetheart… we have a new roommate" with a cute pic of a dog/frog/duck/snail/whatever. Sabo has a kind heart. If he sees a wounded or abandoned animal, he feels obliged to adopt it.
And regarding spicy texts… 
Sabo is a kinky boy. So sure, he's thirsty when it comes to sexting/nudes. As a revolutionary, he is also very careful. He always asks you first before sending you nude or spicy texts. If you're willing, then prepare yourself.
A bunch of nudes. Since he's good with them, he won't display his dick in a weird and unattractive angle to you. He enjoys showing you his hands when he's wearing his gloves. Or a mirror photo of his back.
"I know you will scratch it when I'll fuck you tonight 😏"
You're not forced to send him nude or spicy texts back. He respects your boundaries without exception. And if you send him a photo anyway, he's also really nice. Always a comment like "your ass is soooooo good with this angle. I can't believe I'm that lucky 🥵" and if he wants to save a photo for his collection, he's always asking if it's okay with you.
"Sweetie, i have a new toy for you… 💛"
We all know what he's talking about. Naughty Sabo.
2K notes · View notes
peachypinkygloss · 1 year
Text
wicked obsession — pjm
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You don't like Jimin; you two are nothing alike. He's the campus' infamous fuck boy while you're studious, never stepping foot into parties. It's certainly not a good thing when he grows an obsession over you.
★ pairing: fuck boy!jimin x sub/fem!reader
☆ genre: university au, friends with benefits, smut
★ word count: 8.2k
☆ warnings: dub-con, non-con to a certain extent, take of pictures and videos without consent, threats toward the reader, hard dom jimin <3 (he's pretty soft in this one but still), he's evil and hot, reader's kind of a pervert too if we think about it long enough, pillow humping (f), masturbation (m), unprotected sex, no penetration because it's not a necessity 😌👍🏻, praising & brief degradation, dry humping, grinding, facial, cum eating, cunnilingus & fingering, squirting, jimin's a munch.
a.n.: this is a gift for myself since i crave jimin really, really badly. again, be mature and read the warnings! it's your job to avoid the content you don't like, not mine! 😉
playing: Filme moi
Please reblog! It helps me a lot and my fic get more visibility :)
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He's looking at you like a predator, narrowing his eyes and passing his index finger over his plump bottom lip. The only thing you can do is pretend to not see him staring intently at you and work harder on your assignment. If only you could do those things without anxiously glaring up at him and immediately breaking eye contact when he's already looking at you.
He doesn't even engage in the conversation with your group of friends and for some reason nobody has noticed how Jimin is ogling at you.
Why is he suddenly interested in you? Why!?
He knows how much you disapprove of his lifestyle. He doesn't care about his studies, he submits assignments days after the due date because why should he bother about the date when he'll get an A anyway. He puts no effort while you spend days on your homework and it angers you a lot.
Jimin is infamously known for his never ending libido, fucking everything that has two legs, two arms and a pussy. Infamously known to be a fuck boy simply because he breaks every women's heart without a care in the world. He may flash a smile while telling them they were a good hook up and that's it.
And that's why you're in big trouble because Park Jimin can't be obsessed with you.
As you finish typing your sentence on your keyboard, pressing on enter to change paragraphs, you look up. Mainly because you want to distract yourself a little bit from your work, but also because you can still feel his eyes boring into your skull.
Then, you see his black orbs looking straight in front of him where you're sitting while he's leaning against the chair's back, spreading his legs apart. You're surprisingly brave enough to hold eye contact this time, shivers running down your spine when he darts his tongue out to wet his lips.
What did you do for him to stare at you like you're a piece of meat?
It's like he's trying to send you a message, one that would offend you, make you raise your eyebrows in total astonishment and probably stop your heart from beating. Even though you can't decipher his message, you can understand it. Something nasty, so filthy that the devil himself wouldn't approve of.
He tilts his head downward and looks at you through hooded eyes. You have to swallow to not choke on your spit as his gaze destabilizes you so much you can't even process what's happening around you.
Jimin seems to like that, enjoying how weak you are, how you crumble apart just from holding eye contact with him. He smirks, following each one of your movements with his devious eyes.
You shift uncomfortably in your seat, trying to focus on your computer's screen, but you can't. He's distracting you and it really annoys you. Why can't he mind his own business?
"Class at ten, gonna go to my locker," one of your friends announces, Taehyung, while getting up from his seat.
Priya, also one of your friends, copies Taehyung's actions, standing up on her feet as well. "Oh, yes! I forgot my lip balm in my locker, I'm coming with you," she smiles at him, putting the straps of her tote bag over her right shoulder.
It's how the table you were hanging at slowly empties, and you let out the breath you were holding when Jimin decides to follow Seokjin and Jungkook to the cafeteria to buy some snacks before class. You're left alone at your request, telling Priya and the other girls that you're going to work extra minutes on your essay before joining them.
You wrote four pages already, only ten more and you'll be done. It's a lot and you're totally discouraged, but that's how university is. You quickly check the time on your phone and start packing your things in your backpack to attend your afternoon class that you share with some of your friends.
You take a seat in the middle beside Priya and you don't miss the glance Jimin sends you when he passes by, going to the back of the class with Jungkook. You're relieved he doesn't sit with you, even though it would have been unusual of him, but his sudden interest in you is unusual so you don't know what to expect anymore.
The professor explains the next project, which is a work that you'll have to do in a team of two people. The instructions are pretty simple, something you can do in less than two weeks. You expect to team up with Priya, after all you're the only girls of your group in this class and you two are close friends.
When the teacher is done with the instructions, he lets everyone form their teams. You do the work with Priya, but that is until Jimin makes his appearance.
"Hey, Pri'. You don't mind working with Kookie, right?" He asks your friend and she looks at him curiously, her eyebrows raising up on her face. You, on the other hand, are very confused, opening your mouth to protest until Priya responds with a joyful smile.
"Oh! No, not at all! You two are doing it together? How nice," she giggles, turning her head to look at you. She takes her books in her arms and walks to Jungkook without thinking twice about it.
Jimin steps aside to let her go, watching her sitting beside Jungkook with an undying smile plastered on her face. Your heart starts beating extremely fast as he takes place next to you, acting as if he just didn't decide to work with you without your consent.
"What are you doing! I never said I'd team up with you!" You whisper-shout at him, not wanting anyone to hear you complaining.
He checks the papers the teacher gave you earlier about the project's instructions with the evaluation grid, still pretending the situation is completely normal. "Well, I wanted to and you'll work better with me than with Priya, don't you think?" He turns his head in your direction and his expression is serious. He's genuinely asking you this question.
You shrug, frowning even more. "This wasn't for you to decide," you clench your fists on the table, so frustrated that Jimin thinks it's okay to make decisions for you. You're not even close friends, it doesn't make sense. "I prefer working alone if it's like that," you say, rising up from your seat, but the murderous glare he sends you petrifies you on the spot.
"Sit down," he commands severely and you do as he says, fearing him. He eyes you for a few seconds, making sure you won't try to leave him again. When you stay silent, he reports his attention on the project.
You don't say anything else, listening to Jimin's words distractedly, still baffled by what just happened. Students exit the class, others stay, and he offers to go work at the library.
There, you engage in the project with Jimin. You're pleasantly surprised to see that he's really focusing, sharing his ideas and opinions. You suppose he's only hardworking because the result doesn't solely rely on him. You know he's smart, but he prefers to spend his energy on partying instead of on his studies.
An hour passes and you're now working on your own, asking each other's opinion on things you wrote. You eventually forget how he typically forced you to work with him, but you still have this reluctance toward him, this feeling of repugnance.
Jimin isn't disgusting by any means, he's super hot and he knows he is. You might even be attracted to him, no need to deny it when he's so sexy he makes every girl's pussy mewl. But you know better than to act on your sexual desires, especially when they concern a guy as perverted as Jimin.
"Mmh," he seems to be thinking, but you feel like he already knows what he's going to say. "I forgot something at my dorm," he adds, not levelling his gaze from his sheet of paper.
You look at him, confused on why he doesn't explain further, as if it isn't important. "What is it?" You question him and that's when he raises his head, his gaze meeting yours.
His expression is painfully serious, and by now, you can easily recognize that it's a façade. You don't know what he's hiding, but you're sure of one thing; behind those beautiful almond shaped eyes, kindness doesn't reside there.
His eyes pierce through you, watching - observing your person. Jimin does this often, not answering until you feel uncomfortable under his intense stare. You have no clue on what he's trying to do, maybe see how vulnerable you are, how quickly you can break under the mischievous glint of his eyes.
"My charger."
You wouldn't know if Jimin is a liar because everything he says seems believable, the confidence he radiates just tells everyone how trustworthy this man is. But you look over the table where his phone lays down and the screen lights up as he just received a text. His battery is half full.
He takes his iPhone back into his hand, shoving it in his jeans' front pocket as he stands up from his chair. He tidies his stuff back into his pencil case then into his JanSport backpack, but he stops to look at you when you don't do the same thing. "Aren't you coming with me?" Again, his question is asked with a serious tone, as if following him to his dorm is the normal thing to do.
"I thought we'll just leave it there for today," you confess in a small voice, looking up at him from your seat. Your grip on your pencil tightens when his gaze flicks between your face and your breasts. You despise how he doesn't even hide it.
"No," he breathes out calmly, tilting his head to the side. "We'll continue it at my place, we can't stop now, we're doing so well," he smiles and like the unbothered person that he is, he pulls on your pen. It slips out of your hold and Jimin drops it off in your pencil case. "I really want to do this right this time."
And like that, the conversation is closed. You have no choice but to follow him somewhere you've never been before, somewhere you know he won't hold himself back.
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Jimin is guiding you with his soft voice, his hand placed on the small of your back, brushing his fingers adorned with rings across your naked body. You are sobbing out, feeling dirty, but the tingle between your legs is so good.
His lips are close to your ear, the corners of his mouth lifted to form a devilish smile. "Look at you, sweet thing... enjoying yourself, aren't you?" He whispers into your ear, doing slow circular motions with his hand on your back to soothe you.
You are humping his white pillow, rubbing your pussy frantically against the soft cotton material. Jimin is watching you closely, his smirk never leaving his plush lips. If someone is enjoying it the most, it's him. He likes seeing you losing your dignity bit by bit, and that, only because he asked you to.
The hair on the nape of your neck is wet and you have to tuck his pillow upwards regularly, this one falling down from your weak grip. Jimin doesn't bother to give you a hand, liking the way you are struggling to rut your hips against the soiled pillow, so eager to finally have your release.
For him, it's okay. Making you submit, ripping the last bit of confidence you had in you, forcing you to do things you find wrong. 'It's natural, after all', he said. 'Your body needs it, you can't keep denying your sexual desires for the rest of your life'. He is right about one point; your body needs it, but not you. It's where he fails to understand.
"See, I knew you would like it... I knew you'd like to rub that little pussy on a pillow," he purrs into your ear, smiling even more when a whine confirms his words. "Don't forget to look at the camera, sweetie," he pats your hair and you raise your head, frowning when you see yourself on his phone's screen.
It's placed on his desk chair in front of his bed, levelled on his chemistry books. When you think about it, the chair was already there, facing the bed, as you entered his room earlier. He had set up everything in advance and the thought itself makes you shudder so deeply that your members shake beside you.
"Jimin-!" You gasp out, the knot in your stomach tightening and tightening. You grind your hips harder and faster on the pillow, the same he's sleeping on each night, and feel yourself trembling in anticipation of your orgasm.
At the small call of his name, his face softens, his lips in an exaggerated pout. He takes pity on you, nothing more, just pity because you're so pathetic and weak trying to make yourself cum by humping his pillow.
"I know, baby," he coos, caressing your back, the cool silver of his rings brushing against your burning skin. His other hand gropes your breasts, strong veins pulsing out along his arm. He fumbles the flesh of your boobs, teasing your perky nipples with his palm. "Just let it go..."
You rub your clit against Jimin's pillow, twisting the fabric between your fingers, moving your hips frantically until your orgasm hits you. Jimin looks at you in awe, he has a wicked curiosity to watch you shake in pleasure - a pleasure you didn't ask for. He loves the tears that run down your chubby cheeks, loves that despite everything, you still like this.
You whine as you drive off your high, soiling the pillow with your juices and cum. Jimin lets out a groan, pulling the cushion away from your drenched cunt. "You did such a good job, baby," he praises you and passes an arm around your waist, bringing you against him. "What a sweet girl, so obedient, and just for me."
His free hand grips the back of your thigh and pulls it over his hip, making you fall underneath him on the mattress. You moan softly, feeling your pussy quivering, asking more than just a clitoral orgasm.
Jimin settles between your legs, pampering your neck in sloppy kisses, discovering your body with his pillowy and plump pink lips. He hesitates to mark you, to leave love bites all over your skin, but he refrains himself from it. Not yet.
Your hair is spread all over his bed, your beautiful tits displayed for him. He places a hand above your shoulder on the mattress to support his weight, the other holding your thigh that is locked behind his back. He lowers his head toward your breasts and positions himself better, bending his elbow beside your arm instead of leaving his hand next to your head.
His hot breath hits your nipples, making them even harder. He wraps his plushy lips around one, suckling on it avidly, leaving you panting heavily. Your face is hot, the entire room feels hot, and you think you might melt down under Jimin.
He licks your supple flesh, feeling the lines of your stretch marks under his pink muscle. He plays with the other that is left out by his mouth, pinching and pulling on your little bud. Quickly, your boobs are glistening in his spit, a beautiful sight he wants to reproduce every time he's with you.
"Jiminie..." You moan his name, arching your back as he bites gently on your nipple, flattening his tongue over it after as if to apologize for the pain. You're like a little doll for Jimin to play with, to love and care for.
He's acting awfully sweet as he rips the pureness out of you, sucking fervently on your nipples that you feel your stomach clench. It's a mix of discomfort and pleasure, making you feel weird, but also giving your core tingles you've never experienced before.
His crotch presses against your wet pussy and he slowly grinds his hips, making you aware of his hard cock trapped in his jeans. He detaches his lips from around your nipple and your breast bounces down to the side after. Jimin finds his spot in the crook of your neck again, still grinding his hips against yours.
He lets out a guttural moan from his throat and your pussy clenches around nothing but air. You have to admit that you don't really know what's happening, too drunk on the hormones both of your bodies are releasing. The rutting of Jimin's hips is pleasuring you, stimulating your clit perfectly, but that's not what you wanted, is it?
"Mmh, fuck," he curses, nuzzling your neck and giving you little kisses that want to be reassuring. "I'm so fucking horny, I want to fuck you so bad you have no idea," he presses his bulge harder on you, wanting to feel more friction, but his clothes are restraining him too much.
He looks you in the eye, catching every little moan that escapes your lips, accompanying his grunts and the noise of his bed creaking. He breathes onto your face as he painfully grinds his hips against yours. Maybe you would like him to penetrate you and fuck you until you can't feel any of your limbs, or until he ejaculates deep into you, stuffing you full of his seeds.
Maybe you would like it, maybe you would consider it.
He breaks eye contact as he sits back on his knees, glancing at your messy cunt, quivering helplessly. He grips the back of his white t-shirt with his two hands, pulling on the collar to pass it over his head. He throws it away on the floor where your clothes are as well, revealing to you his beautiful chest.
He has a tattoo on his rib cage, the word nevermind spelled in uppercase inked on his pale skin. His abs are well defined and his nipples are in a shade of dark pink. You can see the muscles of his biceps and he has a trail of hair under his belly button, going to his pelvis. Jimin looks dreamy, it's a shame that he has such a nasty reputation.
He unbuckles his belt, the clanking sound making your stomach flutter, pussy impatiently waiting for him and what he has to deliver. He doesn't stop looking at you as he unbuttons his jeans and unzips them while your eyes immediately lower to his crotch. Under these boxers, there's a huge bulge, and you imagine a thick cock, average length but unreal girth.
"Do you want to see my cock, sweetie?" He asks you in a gentle voice, a smile on his lips, but there is no mockery behind it. Though he's asking, he's not really waiting for your consent. He doesn't need it, not at the point where you are. "Aren't you a little bit curious?" His right hand comes to caress his hard on over his boxers, veiny hand gripping it and palming it.
You don't respond, mostly because you don't know what to say. You glimpse in the direction of the chair where his phone is settled down, seeing Jimin's body hovering over yours. He looks so imposing, dominating, and for some reason this sends a wave of heat between your legs.
You look back at him and you swallow, wondering if all of this talk is to make a show for the camera. You know he knows how much it disturbs you, but it seems like it doesn't bother him. It spurs him on even more, watching your face contort in discomfort and fear, wanting to bury yourself six feet under ground.
But he also knows that despite those negative feelings, you like this situation very, very much. Your body betrays your emotions; pussy leaking down your ass, wetness sticking to your inner thighs, nipples hard and pupils dilated.
He bites down on his bottom lip, passing his thumbs under the band of his briefs. Your heart accelerates, mind going crazy at the fact of seeing Jimin's dick just in front of you, centimetres away from your crotch.
"So excited to see me... You're going to like it, baby, believe me," he chuckles, lingering his eyes over your naked body, noticing the goosebumps running along your skin and making your hair stand up on your arms.
You almost whimper when he tucks the band of his boxers down, setting his cock free from its confines. It twitches twice before standing up proud against his pale stomach, pink tip glistening from pre-cum under the light of his bedroom.
You were right; Jimin is girthy, not super long and unshaved, but his head reaches a few inches under his belly button. He's really thick, and with what you've already seen in your life, you know his dick can't enter without forcing the entry a little bit. And this is not good, really not good. Not to mention the size of his balls that will surely leave bruises on your ass.
You're not sure if you like it.
You back away on the bed, trying to escape Jimin, but he's fast at gripping your thighs and pushing you back over to him. A laugh doesn't miss to leave his mouth, finding you silly for trying to run away from him when really, there's no way of getting away.
"It's okay, little thing. No need to fight..." His gaze lowers down to his dick where he takes it in his hand, angling it toward your pussy. "It's going to happen whether you want it or not," his last words end up in a whisper, too focused on swiping his tip through your folds to speak louder.
Your walls clench around nothing and you curse yourself for it, knowing that Jimin probably saw it. You whine when you feel him rubbing his mushroom head against your clit, his cock now covered in your wetness. He teases your hole, circling it slowly, collecting more of your arousal on his length.
Then, he pushes his head in slightly, testing how your pussy adjusts itself to the size of his thick cock. You wince as he pushes in over and over again, never putting more than the tip.
"Please, stop- Jimin, it's too much," you shake under him and throw your arms over his shoulders, this simple action making him actually reconsider what he's doing. "I can't take it..."
His eyes shift up to your face, not saying anything yet, observing if you're bluffing or not. If he's a good liar, then you're a bad one. He sighs, replacing his hands on each side of your head. "Don't worry," he promises, his lips brushing the side of your face, his breath tickling your burning cheek.
He glides his cock over your cunt, spreading your pussy lips apart and covering his erection in your juices. His girth stimulates your bud of nerves just the way you need it to feel the knot in your tummy tightening again. You're still sensitive, but it feels good. It's dirty, having your cum dripping down your hole, having Jimin's dick sliding up and down your drenched pussy, mixing his pre-cum to your own arousal.
Dirty, but great, oh, so great.
The zippers of his jeans sting the skin of your thighs as he grinds his cock over your clit non-stop, making you whine and moan, in pleasure or in pain, whatever it is you don't care anymore. It's slow and somehow sensual at first, Jimin moaning himself while driving his erection through your folds.
He gives you small kisses all over your face and while he does so, you can't believe that this is the same man that you used to say you hated so much. Each kiss is warm and soft, on your cheekbones, on your forehead or on the corner of your mouth, you love them all. You could forget about his phone filming your intercourse, you could forget about how he forced you to team up with you, you could forget about everything just by the delicate touch of his plump lips on your skin.
Each roll of his hips seems painful with the way he hisses and twists the bedsheets between his fists, very weak strings holding him back from fucking his cock into your pussy. You don't understand why he respects your boundaries now, but you won't complain.
"Mmh, a-ah, fuck..." You can't get over the fact how his voice sounds so angelic, so pure, and yet, he's doing that to you. Even his deepest moans are honeyed, butterflies flapping their wings in your belly as he growls into your ear.
He fastens the cadence of his hips before stopping, as if he'd have broken down to his real urges if he had continued.
"I'm sorry, sweetie, but I'll have to cum on your face," he informs you, his wet cock leaving your pussy. "And I want some souvenirs..." He smiles deviously, getting up on his knees to stand over your chest.
You watch him pump himself lazily, his cock hovering over your face, mouth hanging open to catch your breath. He frowns and lets out a guttural moan, looking at your poor figure laying helplessly under him. He wets his lips and directs the tip of his cock to your mouth. You close it and he takes the opportunity to pass his head over your lips, smearing your own cum on them.
He tilts his head to the side, smiling as he glances at you with such a sick curiosity. "Do you like tasting yourself on my cock, baby? Hmm?" His eyes glint in mischievousness, so turned on to use you how he pleases, how he always wanted it. "Tastes good, doesn't it? Couldn't get enough even if you wanted to..." It doesn't have much of a flavour, you think, but Jimin seems to really like it.
He decides to jerk himself off just above your face and you clench your thighs, watching in awe how his hand grips tightly his erect penis and how his palm runs up and down smoothly around it. There's something about not being able to move, trapped under Jimin, that has your clit throbbing furiously.
Maybe it's something about him pleasuring himself shamelessly, spurts of your arousal splashing around as he fucks his fist, or something about his soft but deep moans he lets out from time to time, staring at you intently as you're the one making him so horny right now.
He passes a hand through his black hair, his bangs wet from his sweat. He twists his wrist, focusing on his swollen tip before stroking his whole length. "Ah, shit," he sounds really sensitive, sucking air through his teeth. "Gonna cum," he announces rapidly, fastening the pace of his palm.
The veins on his arm are producing, and you're amazed at how many there are. His rings shine as the light makes them glint each time he comes up to his mushroom head.
You open your mouth by instinct, flattening your tongue on your chin, which makes Jimin groans angrily. "Aah, what a good fucking slut," he angles his dick toward your face, long strands of white cum landing on your face as he moans out loudly. "Oh, God..." He mutters under his breath, spilling his creamy cum across your face.
It doesn't go as planned, his seeds leak down on your nose and forehead in a long trail rather than on your tongue and lips. You close one eye because some of his cum drips down on it, keeping the other open. He fucks himself dry, little white beads spilling out of his tip to fall on your cheeks.
"Mmh, fuck, so pretty..." Jimin's eyes linger on your face, stroking himself distractedly as his cock softens in his hand. You retract your tongue back in your mouth, watching him pick up his phone from the chair.
He stops the recording and goes to take a photo vertically, cupping your chin to make you face the camera correctly. He smiles behind his phone, thumb hovering over the button. You hear the capturing sound two times before he's starting another recording.
He lets go of your chin to collect his cum on his fingers that was dripping down to your eye, bringing his digits to your lips. You can then open your eyelid, parting your lips slightly for him to insert his index and middle finger in. You lick them clean, tasting him on your tongue. It's salty, but nothing really repulsive as you thought it would be.
He pulls out of your mouth, giving your cheek a slight slap. You feel the wetness of your saliva on it. Jimin throws his phone away on his bed when he's finished with the video, stuffing himself back into his jeans. He gets up from you and helps you wipe the remains of his cum on your face.
You don't move until he dresses you in one of his t-shirts, your body completely drowned in it. You go pee and when you get out of the bathroom, he envelops you in his strong arms, bringing you back to bed.
He hugs you tightly against his naked chest, laying his head on your chest in a really intimate manner. "You won't tell anyone? Please," you whisper and he elevates his head from you, looking at you with a serious expression.
He answers nothing, instead he lays on his side and pulls you closer. He strokes your hair gently as you listen to his heartbeat, mind empty. You fall asleep eventually, only to wake up the next day, leaving in a hurry to your own dorm to prepare yourself for another day of university.
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You are sitting on a bench in the university's baseball field, doing homework once again. Jimin is always glancing at you from where he is on the field, throwing the ball at Taehyung for him to hit with the bat he's holding.
Taehyung and Jungkook are changing places regularly, one or the other being the hitter. Seokjin is monitoring the two youngest, giving them tips or correcting the way they are positioned since he's the most experienced, being the baseball team's captain.
Priya is beside you, glued to her phone, probably texting Namjoon, the guy she's seeing at the moment. A gym addict, you remember her telling you and also apparently Seokjin's good friend from another campus.
Even though you're focused on your work, you still feel Jimin's eyes on you and it scares you to think that he might have told everyone about you two. He didn't because no one has addressed it, but there's a doubt, a little voice in your head telling you that he didn't respect your wish to keep it a secret.
If your friends know it, your parents, even the whole school... you have no idea how you will manage it. It doesn't seem like much of a big deal, but you just don't want this kind of information to follow you for life. Jimin isn't the type of guy you want to be associated with.
Despite the sweet nicknames he calls you, his devilish smile that makes butterflies erupt in your tummy, his insanely pretty face, his soft voice that makes you shiver, his plump pink lips browsing your skin, his beautiful hands gripping your thighs, his hot cum painting your face, how he's so gentle but has the evilest intentions at the same time.
Despite all of those things, you don't want him. You really don't. But he does.
The time passes as the boys' laughters fill the air, the positions changing; Priya talking with Taehyung, Seokjin and Jungkook bickering, Jimin making fun of them and glancing your way when his attention drifts off of his friends.
You sigh when you have to get back to your dorm by yourself, your unfaithful friend too swamped by a boy to realize you're still there. You collect your things, laptop in its cushioned case and notes back into its assigned binder.
You think you can sneak out of the baseball field without anyone noticing, but you're so wrong to even assume he doesn't have his eyes set on you.
Outside the field, you stop walking when a familiar voice calls you. "Where are you going?" You turn around, only to be met with, evidently, Jimin.
You shrug, glimpsing behind you where the university's building is. "To the dorms..." You answer, not too sure why you sound hesitant. It's not like you need his permission to go back to your room. It's late at night anyway, and you don't want to get bit by mosquitoes.
He closes the distance between you two, stepping ever so slowly, as if to tease you, to chase you. No need to go faster, he knows you'll stay there, frozen on the spot.
"You can go back with the others," you say, frowning as you want him to leave you alone. You don't voice this wish, though and you're lucky you don't because he doesn't like being rejected, especially by you.
His gaze darkens as he narrows his eyes at you and you're scared for a moment before the corner of his mouth lifts up into a smirk. "No, I'm coming with you," he decides and you know this isn't a proposition, it's a statement.
But you're not okay with this. So you back away slightly, still facing him, breath quickening. He notices your reluctance and he frowns, a scowl on his face. You keep moving back and he keeps moving forward, that is until you have enough and run in the university's direction.
Your sudden move takes Jimin by surprise and you hear him calling your name, clearly annoyed with you. He asks himself if he should run after you because if he does people will see him and that's not something he wants. But he knows you're going to the dorms, so he just has to arrive there before you do.
You soon make your way to the university residence building, relieved Jimin didn't follow you. You thought he would have, but it seems like he didn't want to bother running after you. You nonetheless look behind you from time to time, verifying in case he did in fact follow you, but you don't see him.
A little voice tells you how unfortunate it is that he didn't chase after you. Is it because he doesn't like you anymore? For some twisted reason, this idea disappoints you. Did he realize you weren't as interesting as he thought you would be or does he think you were shitty in bed? That would be quite humiliating and sad.
You liked the attention he gave you.
When you step into the corridor your room is located in, your eyes widen and your heart almost explodes as you see Jimin casually waiting in front of your door. You didn't expect him to be there, how did he even enter without you noticing?
You feel like a poor little bunny who has nowhere to go, damned to be eaten alive by the big, bad wolf slowly approaching its prey. But the difference between you and the bunny is that you're secretly turned on to be tracked down by Jimin.
He pushes himself off the wall he was leaning on when he perceives you walking in. His smile doesn't leave his beautiful plump lips, his mischievous eyes scanning your little body from head to toe.
As he reaches you, you finally come out of your torpor. "Jimin," you warn him and he stops, inches away from you. "I'm not... doing this. I don't want to."
He doesn't look convinced at all. Who are you trying to fool now, you or him? It's better not to be him because he's not the kind to give up on something he really wants.
He tilts his head, looking at you curiously, the expression he does when something intrigues him. "Don't act like this now, sweetie," he purrs, closing the gap between you two. Your breath is caught in your throat, avoiding his gaze at all cost. You're trapped between him and the wall. "You wouldn't like to have your pretty body leaked, hm, baby? It wouldn't really be a secret anymore..."
He touches your cheek with his hand, caressing the side of your face with his index finger. You shudder, pressing your books tightly against your chest. "W-What? I thought- I thought..." You stutter out, heart thumping against your rib cage.
"It doesn't matter what you thought, sweet thing." His words come out husky, his hot breath fanning across your face, making goosebumps run all over your skin. "It's okay if you don't want to, but you have to know that there'll be consequences," he almost sings this threat to you as he sounds so angelic and you're more and more scared by him. Scared in a way that makes your clit throb.
He cages you between the wall and him, pressing his body against yours feverishly til it makes him ill. Your two breaths intertwine, mingling together to create a compact atmosphere where it's hard for you to even think straight.
"The videos.... oh, and that pic," he reminds you and the events are quick at coming back into your mind. "Are all saved in my phone, only for me to look at... and believe me, I must have replayed them at least ten times, if not more," he informs you. "And, God, I was so hard just looking at you, baby."
You can't help but clench your thighs, imagining him with his phone in one hand, his cock in the other.
"Jimin," you breathe out quietly, coming out like a whisper, the sound of your voice making him focus on you. He glances down at your face, watching your lips parting to pronounce your next word. "Stop..."
Though he might have been soft before, you rejecting him again when you're clearly turned on makes him mad. He grabs your wrist and you gasp when he pulls you with him, bringing you to his room instead of yours.
You try to free yourself from his grip, but you fail miserably, almost tripping over your feet. Some people look at you weirdly, no one really stops to ask what's going on. He drags you to his door and opens it hurriedly, closing it when you're both inside.
He takes your books and your backpack away from you, putting them on the ground. You observe him in awe, you're completely in shock. He removes his baseball jacket swiftly as well as his shoes and pushes you on his bed. Your body bounces back on the mattress, Jimin crawling up to you like a hungry feline.
Heat floods through your abdomen to your core, setting your whole body on fire while your panties are getting wet as he's about to do whatever he wants to you. You squirm under him, but not because you want to get away - your body is aching to be touched, to be pleasured.
Face to face, he presses his body against yours until there's no gap separating you. He is insistent and you feel like suffocating, but you'll survive, very much so. Jimin is giving you his breath and you're giving him yours.
His t-shirt hangs loosely on him, the ends of the sleeves stopping just over his elbows. Some kisses are placed on your cheeks, on your lips, on your neck. It tingles sweetly, your stomach doing a flip, butterflies partying in your belly, pussy mewling. You feel everything at once, and intensively.
You don't protest when he removes your crop top, letting your breasts out, nipples hardening from the cold air hitting them. He plays with them for a brief moment, pinching and pulling on the little buds, before lowering down on you. Your mouth hangs open, not expecting him to do that to you.
He pulls your shoes off your feet, letting them fall on the floor beside his bed. He eyes your little white socks, deciding it'd be better if you keep them on. Due to your position and the fact that you're wearing a skirt, Jimin can see your cotton panties from his point of view. He smirks, looking at the wet patch over your cunt.
He passes an arm under your back, pulling the zipper of your skirt down and he rips the material off of you. You gasp at his brutality, but you don't think about it furthermore as he hooks his fingers under the band of your underwear, sliding it down your legs despite your little whines of embarrassment.
Your femininity is now very exposed to his insatiable eyes, gazing at it like a hungry man. Settled between your legs, he passes them over his shoulders, holding the back of your thighs so they stay open for him.
"Hmm, always so pretty... And it's all for me," he licks his lips, pink tongue peeking through them. He pushes your thighs up against your chest so he has a better access to your cunt, already glistening in your arousal. Only your feet are touching his shoulders, now. You wish for a moment that he was shirtless, and you're too shy to ask him to remove his t-shirt.
Your meaty thighs are squished over your lower stomach and you won't lie that the position is hard to keep. You're not that flexible, and surely not athletic, unlike Jimin. You whimper a little bit, feeling his breath on your wet pussy, making you shiver.
"Hold your legs up for me, sweetie," he softly commands, giving you an appreciative smile when you sneak your hands under your knees. "Good girl," he praises and you can feel your clit pulsating at how badly his words affect you.
He places his arms around your thighs and takes a hold of your hips. The cool metal of his rings brushes against your skin and you notice the chain around his neck dangling, the pendant bumping into the bed covers.
Jimin finally focuses on your cunt and when he blows on it, you can't hold in your moan. He's happy to hear your reactions, loving how you're so sensitive, how your puffy clit begs him to suck on it. But the first thing he does is kiss your inner thighs delicately while caressing your body along your curves with his veiny hands.
Then, his lips get closer to your warmth, impatiently waiting for him. He wraps his lips around your bud of nerves and suckles on it, eliciting quiet moans from you. It's gentle and you've never felt better, your fingers are in no comparison to his skillful mouth.
He sucks a bit more and your face contorts in pleasure. You try to glance at Jimin, but your position only allows you to see a fluffy head of black hair buried between your legs. The view is so filthy and you become drunk off his mouth, loving what's happening, barely remembering that he threatened you to leak the videos of you two having sex.
The sucks turn into licks, his wet muscle sliding from your hole up to your swollen clit, parting your pussy lips apart in the process. He teases your entrance with the tip of his tongue, circling around it, just dipping in slightly enough to make you needy.
Before you can ask for more, he flicks his tongue on your sensitive bud, moving his muscle from side to side rapidly. You moan out, feeling delicious tingles in the pit of your stomach. You grip your thighs harder, pussy clenching and begging to be fucked by Jimin's huge dick with such eagerness.
"Oh, my God, Jimin!" Your legs start to shake and his tongue gives you an orgasm, arching your back as he keeps stimulating your clit until you're off your high.
You sense him collecting your cream with his tongue, dipping into your folds. You let go of your thighs, letting them fall by your sides. You try to catch your breath as Jimin is still nuzzled in your pussy as if he's licking the plate after eating his meal, leaving nothing behind.
"Please, s-stop..." You cry out, being overstimulated by him. You attempt to push his head away, but he doesn't nudge a bit. "It's too much."
He looks up at you, leaning on his elbows. "Stop complaining or I'll fuck this pussy with my cock without feeling any pity," he warns you and you give up, but you still whine weakly.
When you think he's finished, he penetrates you with two fingers at once, sliding in so easily with how wet you are. The sudden intrusion makes you gasp, your own fingers are certainly not as big as Jimin's. They might be small for a man, but in no way that means they're the same size as yours.
"Shh, my sweet baby, it's okay. Relax, you're so tense..." He says, face hovering over your cunt as he slowly pumps his digits into you. He keeps them straight the first few strokes, but he starts to scissor your insides as well. You feel your pussy expanding around his fingers, it's a really unfamiliar sensation, but since it's Jimin, you slowly chill down.
He hooks his fingers perfectly inside of you, brushing against your sweet spot. The overstimulation is replaced by this new pleasure, much more intense and significant than the other. He expertly moves his two digits at a regular pace, holding your thigh up with his free hand.
Your juices are dripping down your ass, the feeling kind of uncomfortable, but Jimin fingering you makes you forget about everything around you except for him.
His palm is facing up, colliding with your clit each time he's knuckles deep into your messy cunt. He hums pleasantly when he feels you clench around him, seeing that you're having a good time. He lowers his head again and you immediately grasp his hair in your fist when he nips at your sensitive clit.
He flattens his palm since his chin is in the way and instead pets your spot inside of you with the pads of his fingers. It's sweet and almost magical. You feel like he's munching on your pussy, opening and closing his mouth over your clit, tongue viciously licking the little bud. It's slow, it's perfect, it's everything your body needs. That you need.
You let out soft moans, pulling on his black locks, completely in love with his mouth until it leaves you again. You would have complained, despite his warning of earlier, but he literally finger fucks you and it cuts you off instantly from saying anything.
He doesn't miss a beat, constantly rubbing your magic spot, making you lift your back from the mattress. You twist the bedsheets between your fingers, a fire in your belly, growing more and more with Jimin's ministrations.
"What the-!" You never say the end of your sentence, frowning and closing your eyes as you let the pleasure of another orgasm take over you. Jimin never stops, gaze shifting between your face and your pussy regularly to catch your reactions. "Jimin, wha-what's... Oh, God!" You scream, and everything happens so fast.
He pumps his fingers in and a clear liquid floods out of your cunt, in droplets first, but then bigger. You don't see what's happening, but an intense pleasure rips through you and your body is shaking like a leaf.
"Oh, fuck," you hear Jimin cursing, almost moaning after. His rhythm slows down, more fluid coming out. "You're such a girl good, shit, it's so fucking hot," he growls and stops his movements, hand cupping your cunt, patting it gently.
There's a wet puddle under your ass and you blink several times, coming back to Earth, feeling totally knocked out. "Jiminie..." You whine out, looking down at him.
The front of his t-shirt is soaked and some droplets fall from his chin. Immediately, you feel your cheeks heating up, so embarrassed from what you did. You squirted all over him to the point of wetting his clothes. But he looks nowhere disgusted, rather turned on than anything else.
He laughs, though it's not to mock you at all. He's just so happy, so fucking in love.
"I'm sorry..." You apologize shyly, but Jimin shakes his head, crawling back up to you.
"No, baby, no..." He coos, pampering your cheeks and forehead in feathery kisses. "There's nothing to be sorry for. It felt good, am I right?" He asks and you nod, feeling particularly ashamed. "Of course it was, I should have filmed it... Well, maybe next time," he sighs contentedly, smiling adorably.
He kisses you on the lips and after that intense orgasm, you start to feel guilty. Embarrassed, ashamed. Not because you stained his t-shirt, but because you liked it. A lot.
It makes you want to repeat it solely with Jimin. Forever and ever. But you can't, not again, not after you told yourself you wouldn't.
For Jimin, it was everything he's ever wanted in his life. You and him in the same bed, having sex, enjoying yourselves. It couldn't be better, really. He'll do anything it takes to keep you with him and believe him when he tells you there's going to be a next time.
Nothing will stop him from having what he wants, not even you.
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