Tumgik
#His name is letterbox
kirbyofthestars · 10 months
Note
I wanna hear you make shit up about ohio. Bcuz of your viral post and i'm from there and all the internet memes. Y'know. Have fun with it if u want idk if i sent this ask before soz
The state of Ohio is best known for its thriving wine culture, Mediterranean shrubland, sweeping coastlines and ceremonial monarchy. Ohio’s warm saltwater beaches are awash with an eerie turquoise glow at night, thanks to bioluminescent algae that proliferate beneath the ocean’s surface. Its first capital was settled on the banks of the South Atlantic and was named after famed Anglo-Métis canoeman, Thomas Cheesebarn, in honour of his grandfather.
Notable residents of Ohio include: “Cleveland Will”* from my high school geography class. Cunt. Hated the guy. Fuck you, Will.
30 notes · View notes
septembersghost · 7 months
Note
What's your favourite headcanon of something that happened in the Impala?
i love this question! although i have to laugh at the fact that 90% of many headcanons revolving around this would be...spicy.
i have a non-spicy one though, it's something i made up ages ago!
when dean briefly went mute, after mary's death, john (who wasn't exactly functional nor great at communication even at the best of times) would load the boys in the car, especially if sam got fussy, and to fill up the silences from one son and the cries from the other, he would flip on the radio, or pop in a cassette. dean, eyes never straying far from sam except to occasionally peek at the normal, peaceful houses they passed by, found comfort in this, even in the loud, raucous rock songs. it would eventually put them both to sleep, and john would circle blocks aimlessly, none of them particularly intent to head back to the motel, or wherever they found themselves temporarily living. it was the safest dean ever felt, surrounded by the armor of the car, the soft breathing of his baby brother, his dad absentmindedly drumming the wheel. and that's why music filling up the impala became a constant staple in his life.
9 notes · View notes
bennitastisch · 2 years
Text
why does everything have to be so complicated
2 notes · View notes
love-birds-stuff · 8 months
Note
If you wanna answer the asks you just rbd, how about these ones for whoever? 👯: What canon character are you most similar to? 🥰: How would someone who loved you portray you? 🤪: What is your trait that fanon would exaggerate?
ok ive been rummaging these in my head for a few days now but im gonna go with my b.order.lands s/i bc ive been rotating him in my head a lot lately
👯: What canon character are you most similar to?
I feel like Ceolocanth might be the most similar to Moxxi? At least on the surface of both being performers but at the same time being savvy in fields you wouldn't really expect them to (mechanic and biologist respectively)
That and the fact they know how to sweet talk well enough to get what they want (on top of code switching to hell but that's besides the point)
🥰: How would someone who loved you portray you?
I hope the Ceolocanth Enjoyers would like acknowledge that he's gone through a LOT but at the same time he's still kind of a dork, a little silly sometimes under all that swagger and smart mouth
And that he's not like a gruff hardened guy, he's a little rough around the edges sure but not a brick wall despite his losses he's managed to carve out a space for himself and he allows some levity
On top of that, I feel like they'd get what drew him to Rhys initially was his absolute LACK of rizz, his boyfailure personality captivated me kind of thing, bc I personally feel like that's really funny and also how their dynamic probably would've played out at the start
Speaking of their dynamic, it probably plays out as a rivals to reluctant allies to more through tales, theres some heavy tension initially (namely because he's PISSED the caravan crew basically ran him out of a job but he's got nowhere else to go so he tags along with them)
🤪: What is your trait that fanon would exaggerate?
Oh GOD, probably the fact that he's latino I feel like, bc granted I personally headcanon Aquator (his home planet) to be similar to the Carribean Islands it's some implied subtext that he's latino and I can already SEE the incorrect spanish in fics </3
0 notes
catch57 · 11 months
Text
still got an hour of all quiet on the western front left but like. My review is stunning visuals but what does this have to do with all quiet on the western front. je me sens que the compelling pieces of the book were the characters and how they learned to live during the war + the realization they would never again see life the same as others do. and i even feel there was some gallows humor to it all¿ but the movie misses that completely esp by having us watch the rulers arbitrate. i get that it’s meant to show the contrast of the elites lives to that of the front but like u don’t need to spell it out you’re supposed to build that understanding from the narrators eyes!! and like darkly from how his own family treats him on his break lol. those dictating this war r supposed to be a far away monstrous hand that he cant reach but who have the power to tear him away from life but instead the movie almost shows these guys sympathetically lmaooo
0 notes
k-hotchoisan · 13 days
Text
the scentist
Tumblr media
<san x fem!reader>
Tumblr media
Your neighbour—Choi San—is such a gentleman on top of being a complete hunk and smelling so fuckin good. Especially so when he offers his hoodie when he sees you being drenched. Well, nothing could come out of such a simple gesture of kindness, right?
Genres/Warnings: perverted & obsessed scentist!San, Olfactophilia (sexual arousal from scent), masturbation on clothing, oral (F receiving), unprotected sex, cumming untouched, armlock (light) breeding, pussy drunk San💙
💙 @san-network 💜
Taglist: @bro-atz @diamond-3 @mcarebearsstuff @choisansplushie @voicesinmyhead-rc @pre1ttyies @hwallazia @songmingisthighs @yeosangiess @interweab @mylovelymito @softwsan @yourlocaljonghoe @itza-meee @ywtf @jeon-ify
A/N: WE BEEN KNEW THAT I’D LEAVE MY FAVOURITE MAN FOR THE LAST!! 😮‍💨 don’t be sad that this event is ending ok,, we got more to cum come 🥰 thank u for giving my fics so much love as always!!
🩷back to staying perverted
Tumblr media
Lavender. Sweet pea. Azalea. Gardenia. 
The scents of the florals fill his lab, something he’s so used to already. As the concoction bubbles, he walks over to the other flowers potted along the shelf, pressing the petals against his nose, taking in their smell before he pulls away. He pulls off his goggles, walking over to his desk, staring at the standing whiteboard, filled to the corners with flower names, chemical compounds, and other miscellaneous details. Even though he’s doing fine, he feels that something is missing. Choi San feels stale and stuck. 
The rain is pattering down heavily against the pavement, he stares at the raindrops hitting the leaves of his plants. San often gets compliments on how beautiful his plants are, and how natural he is at gardening. San would don his signature smile and he would thank them for the compliment. Sometimes, his neighbours would come by to ask for gardening advice and San would gladly entertain them. This evening was no different. Another one of his neigbours who was growing greens had wanted to express appreciation by buying San his favorite fertilizers. Stacking them neatly in his cabinet, San then decides to head down to the reception to receive his parcel. 
Fuck. The downpour was so sudden. It totally caught you off guard, and you were drenched before you realised it. You make it to the entrance of your apartment complex, shivering slightly from the air conditioning. You shake off the excess water off your arms, and when you look up, your heartbeat quickens—your apartment complex crush is standing at his letterbox, filtering through his mail while he holds a parcel in his arms. He’s in a grey hoodie, and for some reason, it makes him look big, and it’s driving you insane. Shit, shit, shit. You pray that he doesn’t turn around and see you.
“Hey. Good evening y/n”, San greets cheerily. You force a smile, “Good evening San.”
San has his eyes on you, and you swear he’s eyeing you down—probably judging you for being drenched and shit. 
“Looks like you reached back just in time”, he teases, and you pout. 
“I feel like a drenched dog. Is this how dogs feel after a shower?” You reply, brushing your hands through your wet locks, all in an attempt to stop yourself from staring at San laugh—his voice is hypnotic enough to make you melt into a puddle already. The cold air from the air conditioning hits you once more, and this time you’re beginning to shiver uncontrollably on top of struggling to open your damn letterbox and not looking like a circus in front of your crush. 
You focus on fidgeting with your letterbox keys, your fingers reaching out to snatch the letters. When you close the latch, San has his hoodie unzipped, and he’s removing said outerwear. 
“San, what are you-“
He’s about to hand you the hoodie, but he instead opts to put his parcels in your hands, and he fucking fits the hoodie around your shoulders, and when he does, his smell floods your senses. He smells like a mix of floral—with hints of spice and citrus, and although for a brief moment, you have it locked in some part of your brain. His fingers brush against yours as he takes his parcels and letters from you, and it doesn’t help that he’s in a black shirt that hugs his biceps, shoulders, and chest a little too well. You barely muster the strength to peel your eyes away, feeling your heart flutter when his fingers brush against yours as he retrieves his packages back from you.
You look up, hoping that the fluorescent lights don’t highlight the heat that’s rushing to your cheeks. You’re still shivering, but suddenly you don’t feel as cold as before. 
“Thank you, San”, you smile. “I’ll wash it and return it to you ASAP.” San smiles in response and the both of you walk to the lift together, light conversations and laughter filling the spaces as your body and your heart gradually warm up.
San is exhausted—he’s been at the lab back to back, drafting report after report, and it’s been taking chunks out of him. Palm against his neck, he tilts his head, shutting his eyes as he stretches his neck, and then he sighs. His superiors finally approved his reports and now he has the god-given chance of going home and catching up on his sleep for the night.
The muffled sounds of his doorbell stir him up from his sleep. He doesn’t shift for a couple of seconds. Then his hands shift across the bedsheets to feel for his phone. The doorbell sounds a couple more times and San grunts in his groggy state, his fingers hitting against the edge of his phone, which he pulls closer to him to check the time.
It’s 2 pm. He crashed for 14 hours last night. 
He slowly sits up, letting his sight adjust to the afternoon sun filtering through his windows before he walks over to the front door. He’s slightly grouchy from the amount of sleep he clocked in, but as he swings the door open, the remainder of his sleep dissipates when he sees that it’s you standing before him.
“I’m sorry, did I wake you up?” You ask, rubbing your neck. “I wanted to return you this..”, you bring up a paper bag to San’s view. San is still registering this.
“But you weren’t home for the past couple of days, and I don’t have your phone number..” 
San blinks. Then his hands reach out to take the paper bag, and his eyes glance downwards. 
Ah, it’s his hoodie. 
He looks up back to you. “Thank you. Don’t tell me you’ve been coming here every day to try to pass me this?” 
“Yes and no..?” you answer with a smile. It spreads to San, who suddenly feels a shot of guilt for making you come to his unit when he wasn’t even there half of the time. 
“I’ll treat you to dinner for the trouble I’ve put you through”, he says hastily. He thinks the way your eyes widen and how pink is flushing at the tip of your ears is so adorable, and then he cuts you off before you attempt to decline his offer, “Pass me your phone.”
The phone in your hand is in his now and he types in his phone number before he hands it back to you. 
He leans in slightly closer, and there is a particular scent that slowly starts to make its way to his brain. Is it coming from you? For some reason, he hasn’t been able to get it out of his head since the day he lent you his hoodie. And there it was again, faint, but it was definitely there.
“Is there anything else I can help you with, y/n?”
He’s almost disappointed when he sees you shake your head, but at the same time, he has lab work to do, so he shuts the door after he sends you off with a smile, not knowing that you omitted that you wore his hoodie a couple more times after washing (mostly due to the cold weather).
He drops off the paper bag on his bedroom floor before he heads off to his home lab.
Unfortunately, the extra 14 hours of sleep still doesn’t spark inspiration for his chemistry, and he ends up spending barely an hour in his lab, mostly tending to his flowers, before he decides to call it a day. 
San is back in his bedroom, and he decides to unpack his hoodie from the paper bag. His hands reach into the bag and retrieve the hoodie, and when he unfolds the hoodie, his mind immediately hazes at the scent coming off the garment. Fuck. It’s even more prominent. It’s the scent that he can’t get out of his fucking head, and now it’s pretty much in his hands. 
You smell like fucking heaven, San thinks, placing the outerwear under his nostrils once more, inhaling, the smell completely entering the crevices of his mind. He groans and curses at the way his erection is pushing against his pants just from your fucking smell. It’s more than just the detergent you use—it’s so much more intimate and intoxicating than that, and it’s undoubtedly driving San fucking crazy. He’s so sure that this is the scent that he’s been chasing after.
San walks over to his bed, comfortable on the mattress while he pushes his pants past his thick thighs, his cockhead pushing against his underwear, forming a dark and wet spot. He inhales shakily, teasing himself, the precum thickening and staining more of his underwear. It doesn’t take him long to kick off his sweats and underwear completely, letting his cock spring out with a relieved sigh, before he slowly starts fucking his hand while his other hand has his head filled with your pheromones. 
The thought of you on that rainy evening, the way the rain had drenched your white shirt through, your bra showing, cupping your tits so fucking teasingly. San wonders if you did it on purpose because he would have just ripped your shirt open right then and there. His repressed fantasies begin to bubble up—the thought of him inviting you to his unit instead, letting his hands feel you up, making sure your goosebumps are from his touches rather than the cold because he swears he can warm you up quickly. He would press himself against you, taking in your scent, before he’d slip his hands underneath your pathetic white shirt, cupping your tits, then sliding your pants off—he knows he can’t even wait till the both of you reach his bedroom—the furthest the both of you would go? The fucking couch.
Your smell floats, and it’s dragging him deeper and deeper. San bucks his hips against his hand, soft moans pouring out his lips, whining your name against the fragrant garment, his precum turning thicker by the minute. He’s liked you ever since he met you when you first moved in, and now you’re filling up every part of his olfactory senses. He’s desperate to fill you up with him, make sure you’re holding your shirt up with your teeth, your eyes filling up with tears as he slams his cock into your warm pussy, over and over, forcing yourself to stay quiet so the neighbours don’t hear.  
Fucking hell. San’s thighs shake slightly at the thought of it. He takes another inhale, and it’s like a dopamine reset once more, perfect at the moment when he’s bringing himself to the edge. Your voice echoes in his head, the pretty sounds you’d make, the expressions that he would indulge in for himself.
Thick streams of cum bubble from his silt, and he almost suffocates himself from the sick pleasure of burying his face in his hoodie drenched in your scent, he catches his breath as the scent slowly fades when he pulls the hoodie from his face, panting from an orgasm that he knows will never be enough one time. 
As San washes off his high in the warm showers, he decides to attempt to recreate your scent, wanting to keep it all for himself. And he knows just a hoodie isn’t gonna be enough.
You’ve been flipping your apartment upside down, looking for your panties. At first, you didn’t notice that one pair went missing—chalking it off as you misplacing your laundry. But when the second one you swore you dropped off in the fresh laundry hamper disappears, along with a third, you realise something was amiss. You retrace your steps—you did have a couple of people over recently, but the majority of them were your girl friends, if you minus off how you and San have been going over to each other’s places for meals ever since the both of you exchanged phone numbers. Undoubtedly, your feelings for him have grown exponentially, especially when the both of you spent time with each other in (almost) close proximity. San had always been polite and helped around with cleaning up the dishes, and he had a very endearing habit of leaning in closer to you—whether to just tease you or to hear you better—it would never fail to make you act flustered around him before you would roll your eyes and push him away. 
Needless to say, the relationship had blossomed since that rainy evening. You just didn’t expect to grow so close with your apartment complex crush, and while there were nights where San’s face, San’s voice, San’s body would bubble up to the surface when your orgasms washed over you, leaving you squirming and shy once the post nut clarity hit, you thought to yourself that the relationship between the both of you was good enough for now.
You scratch your head, racking your brains as to where your panties might have magically disappeared to. You’re lost in thought until the ping from your phone brings you out of it. You go over to check, and it’s from San—reminding you of dinner at his place. Right, the panties can wait for now. 
“I hope I’m not late”, you smile as San opens the door for you to let you in. San returns it, “No, I just placed the order. It’s gonna take awhile.” 
You take a seat on his couch. No matter how many times you’ve been to his place recently, you always feel that it’s still so spacious. 
Then he breaks your train of thought. 
“Is there something you’d like to do while waiting?” You let your eyes wander around his apartment again, and they land on the potted plants on his window sill. 
Your eyes dart away from how San is staring down—his body is facing towards you, giving you his fullest, and it’s making you slightly self-conscious. 
“I’m wondering what you’re always so busy with.”, you say. You’re ready to be rejected when San doesn’t answer right away. Right, it’s probably something personal to him too. But you can’t help but overthink when he doesn’t reply immediately sometimes. It makes you feel so childlike. 
He stands up, gesturing you to follow him. “It’s a little embarrassing”, San replies as he guides you to the tightly shut door. He presses his fingertip onto the keypad—it lights up green and San pushes the door knob down, and the door pushes open. 
It is as if it is another world. The lights are dim and the air is a lot cooler, albeit slightly more humid thanks to the myriad amount of plants littered around the room. He has so many species—differentcolours and different flowers. The scents hit you next, the floral scent floating around your nostrils at different intensities. 
“A whole nursery?” You exclaim, walking near to some of the flowers. 
“Yes and no. It’s more of a lab”, San corrects you, walking over to the heavy desk just full of lab equipment. “Sorry, it’s kinda messy.”
You shake your head, still taking in the sight of his botanically busy room, amazed. 
As you near more of the equipment, the scents grow stronger. The whole lab smells so fragrant, and you’re surprised that it’s not overpowering, to say the least. 
“So, what do you do here exactly?” You ask, taking another whiff of the fragrance while staring at the rows of test tubes before you. 
“I make scents. It’s just a side hobby of mine on top of my research”, San explains. He picks up a test tube and gestures you to take a whiff, and so you do, pleasantly surprised at how much the scent smells just like him. 
“Then what’s your little project now?” 
San pauses. He doesn’t look you in the eye for that split second. As he parts his mouth to answer, the doorbell rings, and it jumps him out of his thoughts. The food is here. 
Seated across San, as you always do, San is plating the takeout while you prepare the utensils. The topic of his lab comes up again, but you completely forget about asking about his projects.
Midway through the conversation, the rice cake that you were trying to eat somehow slips off the utensil and drops onto your clothes, causing you to jump in surprise, somehow toppling your plate with the leftover sauce, on top of staining on your clothes, much to your dismay. 
“Shit”, you curse, casting an irritated glance at the splatter on your clothes. The plate clatters on the floor. You stand there, slightly dumbfounded at the situation. You’re wondering if you should just head home to change out, considering that your unit isn’t too far from his. But before you have the chance to bring up that suggestion, San cuts you off.
“You can drop your clothes into the washing machine. In the meantime, you can borrow my hoodie. It should be on the clean laundry hamper.”
“San-“
He turns to you with a comforting smile. “It’s fine. Rice cake sauce isn’t the easiest to clean off when you leave it for too long. I’ll clean up the floor.”
You realise arguing with him isn’t work out in your favour, nor will it get the rice cake sauce off your clothes any quicker, so you decide to heed his words and head to his room.
Undressing yourself once you shut the door, you drop your soiled clothes into the washing machine. It was then you realise that you are pretty much naked, in Choi San’s fucking bedroom. Struggling to keep your head out of the gutter, you decide to focus on finding that damn grey hoodie. Your eyes scan his room, trying to search for the grey hoodie. And your eyes land on a thick-looking piece of garment on one of the laundry hampers. You walk over to pick it up.
You put his hoodie over, and there it is again—the spicy citrus smell. Choi San’s smell. Your thighs push against each other a little tighter this time. Then something in your peripherals catch your attention—a lace garment. You inch closer, and your heart drops. 
It’s a pair of lace underwear. 
Fuck. Is he seeing someone and he didn’t tell you? A thick lump forms in your throat. 
And then it goes away when you start picking up another two more panties from the hamper, and the realisation hits you like a fucking truck—these are your fucking panties. 
Things are not adding up in your brain, that’s for fucking sure. 
At that moment, San bursts into the bedroom, and a panicked expression scribbled across his face. His eyes are blown wide open when they land on the three pairs of panties in your hands. 
You stare back at him, almost mirroring his expression, the only difference being confusion for you instead. 
The corner of San’s lips pull into a half smile. “Oops.”
“San, what’s the meaning of this?” You ask, feeling your face flush rapidly. 
“Well”, San pauses. “you asked what scent I’m making next right? It’s yours.” 
“My scent?” You echo back in question to him. San sighs, his shoulders relaxing as he inches closer to you, trapping you underneath him when you finally hit his bed. 
“Yes, darling. Your scent”, his voice almost turning into a whisper, dropping octaves lower. “You’re so cruel—keeping something so intoxicating to yourself.” 
You swallow hard. San’s eyes still reflect his usual gentle demeanor, but now it’s slowly being tinted with something else. Something more ominous. Despite that, it only draws you in, like a prey being slowly hypnotized by her predator. You should be shocked, terrified even, but the only thing streaming through the nerves of your brain is the internal begging for San to just eat you up right now. 
You suddenly realise that the hoodie isn’t zipped up, the outerwear slipping down your arms. You remain still, your heartbeat slamming against your ribcage. 
“You can run out of my apartment now. I’m giving you five seconds”, San tells you, and your mind is spinning at the thought of him even giving you a chance to leave. 
Five seconds pass. You’re still staring up at the male above you, whose lips are curling into a satisfied smirk. 
His fingers cup your jaw, and he tells you, “Open up.” Sparks splatter across your eyelids the moment his lips collide with yours. You pull him closer on instinct, the feeling of his thick erection behind the two layers of fabric sending you into an orbit on top of his tongue teasing yours. He pulls back, licking off the strings of saliva between the both of you. His gaze is locked onto yours.
“Please? Let me taste you. I promise I’ll make you feel so fucking good”, his request sounding more like a beg. Your mind is hazy. Choi San? In between your fucking legs? You swallow hard, and then you nod. 
San lowers himself to your clothed cunt, his eyes shut in bliss when he presses himself against your pussy. 
“Heaven”, is all he mutters, his eyes casting you a glazed expression that was definitely about to drive you fucking insane, before his fingers pull against the waistband of your panties, slipping them off you. 
The moment you feel his tongue press against your pussy, your mind threatens to shut off. San is breathing heavily against your soaking pussy, taking in the sight, taste, and smell of what you’re finally giving to him. Every time your thighs jerk to shut at the sensation of his tongue licking you up, his hands push you open for him forcing you to take his tongue in your cunt, and it’s wiping out any remaining rational thoughts you didn’t even know you had. 
Your fingers tug against his scalp, pushing your hips deeper onto his tongue, your back arched from how fucking good he feels. His tongue is lapping you up, teasing your clit over and over again once he hits the sweet spot, his fingers leaving imprints on your thighs when he hears you whine and moan his name. 
All San can think about is how fucking amazing you taste—he knew it would be another fucking level than pressing his nose against the fabric of your panties and fucking into his hand for the past few weeks, but actually letting you fuck his face? He’s on fucking cloud nine. 
His glazed-out eyes shift to look up at you, watching the way you’re squirming under him, the sounds of his wet tongue fucking you, tasting you, echoing around his room. Your cream and pussy are the only things he can register, and he wants to keep it for himself, forever.
“S-San-“, you cry out, your mind just threatening to blank out at every flick of his tongue. He’s building your orgasm at such a dangerous pace, and tears are pooling at the corners of your eyes when you feel something funny bubbling at the pit of your stomach. “I think I’m gonna fuck-“
“That’s it. Let it go for me. That’s a good fucking girl”, San encourages, before his tongue presses against your clit, giving you another lick before white washes over you, your cunt pulsing violently against his tongue from the sheer pleasure, then clear fluids splattering onto San’s pretty face—who seemed unfazed, considering he’s still lapping your cunt up, while you’re almost thrashing above him as the overstimulation starts to sink in. Your moans sound like cries when you beg him to stop. San doesn’t relent, and he only stops when he suddenly whimpers, switching over to kiss your thighs, decorating your plump flesh with love bites. He pushes a finger in, letting you stain and coat his fingers, enjoying your whines before he pulls out and towers over you. 
“Fuck, if I’d known you’d taste this good, I would have stolen your panties sooner”, he mutters, cleaning his fingers with his tongue, desperate to taste you again.
You’re catching your breath from going through the most mind-blowing orgasm, watching San pulling his shirt over his head, and then slipping out of his sweats, your breath caught in your throat when his fat cock comes into view, thick and heavy, and covered in thick cum. 
San’s fingers curl around your neck, and he lowers himself to litter kisses across your neck and jaw, it’s giving you goosebumps, your arms automatically wrapping around his neck to pull him closer. 
He pauses right at the shell of your ear. 
“I want to wear you over and over again. I want to lock you up in me—bottle you up so I can keep you for myself.”
“Then do it. I’m here for you to dip into your pretty little fantasies in, San.”
You swear you see something snap in the poor male, especially from the way he takes a deep inhale—shakily— before he parts your lips with his, leaving you breathless when your little steamy make-out session ends. 
“You don’t know what you do to me, darling”, San cautions when he pulls back. His hair is tousled but fuck, he still looks so fucking good. “And I’m not stopping even if you’re screaming.”
Fuck. 
He fucks his hand, soft sighs leaving his lips, as his cum dribbles down his length, before he lines up to your hole and pushes in easily. 
You hear him groan above you, your eyes are fixated on the way he’s losing himself in your pussy, and your mind is finally growing blank the more his cock fills you up. He’s stretching you open so fucking good, filling you up to the hilt. 
“You’re squeezing me so much, darling. Fuck. Are you fucking kidding me?” His eyebrows are scrunched, his hands holding your legs up while he lets you adjust to his cock. 
But he doesn’t warn you before he starts moving, his impatience completely overriding any ounce of rationale he has left in him. 
“So good. San, you feel so fucking good”, your moans sounding like cries whenever his hips snap against yours, the obscene sounds only adding to the tension. 
“You take me so fucking well, darling”, San’s voice is ringing in your ears. “Look at your fucking pussy just swallowing me up like that.” 
You don’t even reply to that, your eyes are rolled to the back of your head, and your head is somewhere in fucking heaven where San is definitely fucking you into. 
Just when you feel that you were about fucking fall apart on his cock, he pulls out, and you barely manage to catch your breath when San instructs you to turn over. You do, your ass up for him, and he enters your cunt once more, before fucking into you from the back. You don’t fucking know how, but you swear that his cock feels even thicker from the back.
His hands press against your hips, fucking you deep before he lets his hands slide down your body and he stops at your neck, gesturing you to look up at him as he leans down to press his lips against yours—all while rearranging your guts from the back. 
He lets you pull back when you feel your neck is growing sore, and then he puts his body weight onto you, his arm tucking underneath your neck. 
“Such a good fucking girl for me. You feel so fucking amazing”, San whispers, tickling every crevice of your brain as he presses his nose against the curve between your neck and shoulder, his thrusts turning more like ruts. The arm lock around your neck isn’t cutting off oxygen thankfully, but the thought of him choking you out only drags you closer to your high. 
“Cumming, I’m cumming San-“, you whimper, tears trickling from your eyes from how much his cock is constantly hitting in such deep fucking spots of your pussy. 
“Me too, babe. Gonna fill you up so nice and good, that’s what you’d like, right?” San teases, his cock twitching in you before he groans, his warm cum filling you up so good right at the same time your orgasm hits you once more, making you squeeze even more cum from San, perfectly milking him dry in your pussy. 
“So fucking perfect”, you hear San mutter, and you can’t help but flush, even though he just fucked every ounce of sanity out of you. His lips trail down the nape of your neck, his eyes are locked onto you, hazy and tinted with a hint of a growing obsession you could never tell. 
He’s not letting go of you. 
1K notes · View notes
sugaimhome · 1 year
Text
next door - jjk
Tumblr media
pairing: yandere jungkook x female reader
minors dni !!
genre: smut, fluff, fluff, fluff... mostly pwp
warnings: soft yandere, dom jungkook, sub reader, voyeurism, obsession, stalking?, sex against a wall, mentions of sexual harrasment (? its very very brief), reader has a praise kink, masturbation, videos of jungkook's dick, jungkook likes to please reader. 
word count: 4.8k
summary: Jungkook is obsessed with you. All because of some badly designed architecture and house planning, he’d do anything for you, and when he sees you struggling to orgasm, he takes matters into his own hands... or camera. 
a/n: i have more ideas for this couple and i’ll think i’ll end up writing them as a mini collection. also i think about Jungkook's tattoos 24/7.
drabble
not proof read
Jungkook couldn’t help it. He had tried so many times to put a halt to his weird behaviors. But you had made it so difficult. Too difficult. 
He no longer feels guilt, running his hand up and down his dick as he watches you get changed. From his window, he could see everything that happened inside your room. He witnessed everything from you waking up early in the morning, naked, getting ready, sitting in your makeup chair with your tits out, you had to know you were teasing him. But of course, you didn’t know, because there is no way you’d let that happen. In the evenings when you climbed into bed, sometimes lying there for a while so he could get a good view of your body before you shuffled into the sheets. 
The thing was, he always waited until you’d covered yourself before he came, cum flying onto his stomach and chest, it made him feel less… dedicated? Perverted? He wasn’t sure but this obsession of his was getting out of hand. He called in sick to work on the days you did, just to make sure you were okay, he’d even followed you out on his motorbike before, because it was late and he didn’t want you to get hurt. He'd punched someone for you, and would do it again. His obsession would never put you in danger and that was what prompted him to make his bold move. 
It happened two nights ago, when you pulled up porn on your laptop, trying to get off to it. He had counted 15 videos until you’d found the thing you had wanted to watch, it was a man jerking off. That was it. No woman. No excessive screaming. He respected that about you, you knew what you wanted. Anyways, it was watching you for half an hour, all worked up trying to orgasm that made him make his own video for you. It was him, jerking off, nothing special. Apart from, it was, because, him slipping a small USB stick into your letterbox this morning while you were at work, with the only thing on it being his dick and moans did seem a little more than nothing special. At first, he had thought you weren’t going to play it, and he wouldn’t blame you because he certainly wouldn’t plug a possibly virus-infected USB into his computer, but you had.
He had witnessed your eyes go wide as you saw what was on the stick, he assumed you had the courage to very quickly click onto the file as his dick appeared in full glory on the screen. Was it too much? But you didn’t turn it off, in fact, you reached to play with one of your nipples with your fingers. Jungkook had watched his video enough times to know that when you threw your head back, reaching past the band of your knickers to play with yourself, was the part where he moaned your name. Was it possible that the next time he saw you in your garden, you’d recognise his voice? Hopefully. He watches you, absentmindedly stroking his cock as you get off to his body. You were getting off to him. He was bringing you pleasure. It drove him mad, he was so proud.
When you came, your head was thrown back in ecstasy, the Jungkook on the screen did the same. Though you couldn't see his face, he knew he had looked spent out after ending the recording, it was one of the best orgasms he'd ever had, knowing it was for you.
Though he still wished he could fill your cunt with his seed, really make you his with his smell and his taste, no other man would ever touch you again. You'd be his for eternity.
He was patient as he waited for you to open your eyes from your orgasm, to look at the screen, and hopefully write down the number he was displaying. You do, grabbing your phone from your bedside table and typing something in. A few seconds later, Jungkook gets a notification.
you: your dick is huge 
Jungkook mulls it over for a moment, not wanting to say the wrong thing.
jungkook: imagine it stretching your tight cunt. 
you: please…
He doesn't reply, he wants nothing more than to comply with your wishes. But it would be weird, wouldn't it.
you: how do you know me? Who are you? how do you know that's what I like?
Ah, the question Jungkook knew was coming, the one he had prepared for. 
jungkook: I'm close to you.
Of course, he wasn't emotionally close to you, but physically he was, your houses couldn't have been more than 10 feet apart. He sat there, watching you with a smug smile on his face, for he had cheated the system. That night, he slept happily knowing you were satisfied.
---
Would you have played the USB stick, orgasming on your fingers, if you hadn't known that it had belonged to your next-door neighbor? No you wouldn't have. But you're damn glad your mum brought you that ring doorbell as a housewarming present. You didn't know his name, but you knew who he was the second your phone sent you the notification, you watched him take the USB stick out of his pocket and place it gently through your letterbox, standing there for a second as if waiting for it to fly back at him. What you hadn't expected was his dick. Well you assumed it was his dick, unless it wasn't… but that would have been even weirder, especially after the text messages. You'd saved his name in your phone to "neighbor" the few messages on the chat highly concerning.
The best part was, you weren't going to touch yourself to the video, but after your failed attempt at an orgasm a few days you figured it wouldn't hurt. Your neighbor obviously didn't know you knew, and he wouldn't know you touched yourself to this, there was no way he could. 
One question remained. Why had he put this though your door in the first place? Maybe two questions. How had he known you were desperate for exactly that? Okay, third question. How did he know your name?
That was the thing about Porn, why you couldn't get off to it, it was so vague, any girl could get off on that but him moaning your name, it was personal, made for you, and it was so hot. 
For the past few days, you've hung around outside, taking ages to pile up all your bags from the car. Gardening. Loitering. You hadn't seen him once. 
It hadn't left your mind, that was clear. But when your car broke down one morning, and the garage, probably hearing that you were a woman, just told you to check your oil, the neighbor situation had nearly left your mind. Watching YouTube videos on how to check your car's oil had been the peak of embarrassment for you, at the age of 25, surely you should know this by now. But despite the clear instructions on YouTube, you were too scared to actually mess with your car.
You had two options here.
1.  Call your Dad
2.  Call your non - existent boyfriend
So it had to be your Dad. This was not something you were looking forward to, so when you have his number (unsaved) dialed into your phone, your finger fights your brain against pressing the dial button.
"Hey, can I help?" someone asks from behind you. Your phone goes straight into your pocket, and you turn on your heels to see -
"I'm Jungkook, I live next door." He's smiling, completely innocent.
For days, you'd been spending time out here just to see him, but now he was here you felt so embarrassed and awkward. This man, all floppy haired, arm tucked around a bike helmet, had sent you a video that seemed to boarder on some kind of sexual assault or a form of public indecency. A video that you had enjoyed, got off to, and watched two times since.
"Hi" you manage to force out. Trying to ignore the very attractive ripple of his muscles as he placed his helmet onto the floor. "um, yeah, um-"
You curse yourself, why did you have to be so anxious? He tilts his head at you, oblivious to the fact you knew. "Think my oil is low, but I can't pull the stick out, its stuck"
You cringe at the choice of words, but he only smirks. Tongue darting out to play with his lip ring. Fuck me. You'd have found him attractive on a normal day, anyone would, but with the memory of his dick, him moaning your name-
You stop. Thinking wasn't going to help. He's next to you now, you can hear his breathing. "Do you mind if I have a look?"
You stutter, struggling to find the words but move aside anyway. "Pl-please if you don't mind." 
Heat rushes to your core, your cheeks feeling like they're on fire. As he leans over your car, his hips pressed flush against the metal. "So you know it's this little pully thingy, right?"
You nod, trying to act indifferent as he points towards the yellow ring sticking out of your engine. Gripping the side of your car you watch as he hooks one finger around the loop, using his strength to pull the rod from the tank. His finger-  "Geez, you were right, it was proper jammed in there" 
All you can do is nod. He frowns. "Do you have a tissue?" He looks at you, holding the metal stick between the two of you. Of course you had a tissue, you worked with children, it was compulsory in this line of work. Pulling one from your pocket you hand it to him "Hopefully it doesn't have snot on it" you laugh, only realising your mistake once you've finished your sentence. "Not my snot!" you exclaim. "I work in a primary school!"
He chuckles, slowly running the tissue up the stick. The amount of effort he puts into it has your pussy clenching around the air. Damn. This man had given you one orgasm, without knowing, and you were a mess around him. "No worries, I'm probably immune to kid snot by now anyways"
Your mouth drops open, and he smirks again. "I don't have kids, I babysit for my friend, Namjoon."
Something about him sharing his personal life with you had your stomach erupting into butterflies, you were so grateful he didn't have children. Though picturing him with children had you- 
What was wrong with you? He puts the stick back into the engine, he pulls it out and it's clean. His mouth drops to a frown. "Not a drop." 
He points to a line on the stick "The oil should be up to there at all times" 
"Oh-" is all you can say.
It would take you nearly an hour on the bus to get to work and, after checking your phone, you were only 20 minutes away from starting time. "Shit."
Jungkook, as you had learned his name was, looks upset with himself as he says "I don't have any oil that would be compatible with your car but-" he glances at his bike. "I can give you a lift, if you need one."
A lift. A lift with your dick sharing - moaning your name - neighbor, whilst you were apparently in heat. Nothing could go wrong… right?
"If you have nowhere to be, I'd really appreciate it." You manage to tell him, and his eyes seem to light up in response.
"No problem, I'll go grab my spare helmet" and he's running off into his house whilst you organise all the stuff you'll need for classes today. There's not much and you manage to fit it all into a small tote that you will hope will fit into his bike. Of course it would, that thing was huge, it wasn't the only thing that he owned that was huge. You fidget at the thought of it. Damn this. Jungkook appears from his doorway with another helmet under his arm. "Here put this on" he says, taking the tote from you and chucking it into the small compartment in the back. With the helmet on, you fidget with the straps to make it tighter, watching Jungkook climb onto the front of the bike, he was hot. There was certainly no denying that. 
"Just climb on behind me!" he practically shouts through the helmet. As you climb onto the bike, you read the model name "2022 Harley Davidson sportster s" 
You want to mutter "oh my god" as you climb on, trying to get as far away as possible from Jungkook without falling off the back. "I've never ridden-" you begin, but you're cut off when he reaches a hand behind him, pulling you by the waist so your body is flush against his. Your nipples harden at the contact and you're glad he's got a leather jacket on. 
"Obviously, you'll need to hold me around my waist or you'll fall off the back, where's your work?" 
You relay the address to him, then he starts up the engine. It roars to life and you can feel the vibrations of the massive bike against your core. You want to clench your legs but seeing as Jungkook was currently between them you figured it would be a little too obvious. As the bike pulls off, your arms quickly wrap around his waist, you bury your head into his back as well. You spend the rest of your 15 minute ride like this, though this motorbike was made for speed, Jungkook doesn't seem to be using it and you respect that a lot, as if he was trying to keep you safe.
When you pull up to your school, all the kids in your class have their face up to the window, pointing at the motorcycle as you climb off it. You open the small compartment your tote was in before handing the helmet back to Jungkook.
"Thank you," you tell him, smiling. 
"No worries, I'll grab you some oil today and I'll meet you back here at three?"
"You really don't have to, I've been a burden to you already-"
He cuts you off "I want to, I'll see you then."
He flips his visor down, kicks the metal stick that holds the bike up and starts up the engine. He drives off. You clench around the air and turn on your feet to walk towards the entrance of your school. The children pointing and staring wide eyed at you from your window.
You sprint down the corridor, fearful of being late, but also typing something into your phone as you go. Perhaps it was time to live life on the edge.
You change the name of the contact from "Neighbor" to "Jungkook" and type...
You: thanks for the ride this morning. x
You smile as you enter your classroom, the kids bombarding you with questions to which you didn't know any of the answers. 
---
It's lunch before you hear your phone buzz and as you're sitting alone in your classroom it seems like the perfect timing. 
Jungkook: damn, I should have known you were being too fidgety, do I make you nervous?
You: I was thinking about your cock.
Jungkook: Still want me to stretch your cunt?
you: maybe…
Your door opens and your boss pokes his head around the door. 
Great. Here we go. 
"Good afternoon Y/N" he smiles.
"Good afternoon Taehyung." You try to smile back, sometimes his presence was reassuring, especially after a long day when you'd talk about a student or an upcoming school trip, but right now you wanted him to leave you alone. It was blatant to half the staff here, and to you, that this man would hit on you 24/7 but you tended to brush it off, you weren't interested in workplace shenanigans. 
"So… There's this conference tomorrow-" he begins but your phone cuts him off by buzzing. 
He continues. "I was wondering-" 
Your phone buzzes again.
"If you'd-" 
Buzz. 
"Sorry Taehyung but my car broke down and I won't be able to come, plus I have tons of assessments to mark."
You in fact, had none. He didn't need to know that.
"Ah, no worries." 
And this is where you make your mistake, because in the hopes of getting him to leave by seeming uninterested in his conversation, you pick up your phone and open the messages from Jungkook. It's him jerking off, and it starts up instantly, luckily your phone is on silent but there's something so so unprofessional about sitting here, watching your neighbor jerk off in front of your boss. Something so exhilarating. 
You: my boss is right in front of me.
Jungkook: you like that?
You: he asked me out. I said I would be busy tomorrow.
Jungkook: if you intend to spend it around my dick then you will be.
You clench your legs together, wishing you could appreciate the video without Taehyung's presence. When you look up, he's gone. Guilt overwhelmed your body, you didn't mean to be rude. 
---
Jungkook felt nothing but butterflies watching you wave goodbye to your students before catching the helmet he threw to you and putting it onto your head. Your body so flush to his was honestly a dream and all he wanted to do was either fuck you over the back of the bike right now or wrap you in bubble wrapper so nothing could hurt you on the journey home. His dramatic difference in emotions was slightly overwhelming. What had shocked him most, was that you had known, you would have known from the second you saw him this morning, and you still trusted him enough to get on a motorcycle with him. Trusted him enough to bring you home too. He would do everything in his power to maintain that trust you'd gifted him. When he pulls up outside your houses, he jumps off the bike first, helping you off and somewhat shyly, whilst taking the helmet from your hands, asks "Would you like to come in? Get a take out?" He nearly screams when you nod a yes in response. Exposing his house to you felt very personal, even if its layout was the complete same as yours. 
"I wish I could change mine up like you've done with yours" you comment. 
"You rent?" He asks, and you sigh, which he takes to be a begrudging yes. 
He leads you into his living room then runs into his kitchen to grab you a cold can of diet coke. It was what you were always drinking at home. Your eyes widen at the beverage, he reminds himself that although you know he was the one who sent the video you didn't know he'd been watching you since you moved in. He gulps.
"Thanks." You smile, so sweet, so pretty, Jungkook wants to touch you. "Jungkook, I have some questions."
He nods, knowing that this would have been brought up, he's about to slump down onto his seat before he says. "If it's about the video, I have something that might explain it" 
He nods to his upstairs, where you follow his line of sight. You're hesitant, and he can see why.
"I would never lay a finger on you." he tells you, filling his eyes with sincerity. "Unless you wanted me to." 
You must see the intensity in his eyes as you plop the can down on his table before following behind him up the stairs. "This better not be some massive murder plan." You say. 
"You've been watching too much true crime." 
This pulls a laugh from your throat that has Jungkook relaxing. Two minutes later, he's sat on his bed, watching you stare though his window into your bedroom. 
"Oh my god" you exclaim, shocked. "You watch me?" 
He promised himself he wouldn't lie to you. "It started like a year ago. In covid, when I was alone all day and you were working from home. Sometimes I'd just sit here and watch you tutor your kids, almost as something to do, I was so bored."
You turn to look at him, understanding on your features. He blushes as he says the next thing "The next thing I knew I was starting to care about you, a woman who didn't know my name nor that I shared this connection of loneliness with."
He looks you in the eye. "I told myself I'd go wherever you were, I'd follow you late at night when I was worried you'd get hurt. I punched a guy in a bar once, the one that grabbed your breast"
Your eyes go wide, you remembered that. "Then I got sexualy frustrated and I'd jerk off to you getting changed or you lying in bed. It's so weird, I know. I tried to stop."
Looking up at you, he sees that he is not yet expected to stop talking, so he keeps going. "The other night, when you spent hours watching porn, to have the most amateur orgasm of your life, I felt I knew what you needed, I'd watched it all."
He put his head into his hands. Speaking it out loud made it sound so much worse. He was so embarrassed, so perverted.
"I understand," you whisper to him. "You knew what I needed"
"Look, Y/N I'm so sorry, I understand if you need to report me to the pol-"
You cut him off by kissing him. Your lips are so soft against his own he moans into your mouth. His hands are on you instantly, pulling you closer to him so you're between his legs, your legs pressing against his crotch. 
You pull away from him, holding his face in yours and saying something Jungkook would never forget "For some reason, I trust you Jungkook" you sigh, turning away from him with a blush covering your whole upper body. "Want you to do what you said on messages" 
He smirks, pulling his lip ring between two teeth. "Want my cock to stretch your pussy?" He asks. You fidget and he knows that's good. "Wanna go dumb from the pleasure?" He's standing over you now, walking the two of you backwards so your back is against the wall. He kisses your neck, feels your pulse under his lips. "You know I can bring you that orgasm you've been needing" 
The words just keep falling from his mouth, pure filth but it seems to have you turned on as you throw your head back, gripping onto his bicep as he reaches up though your cute little teachers blouse to play with one of your tits, squeezing your nipple between two of his fingers. "What do you want first, Y/N. My cock or my fingers."
"Your cock, please Jungkook"
He nearly nuts then, hearing his name fall from your lips like it was supposed to, it was so clear in that moment you were meant to moan his name. "Gonna make you moan my name so much it's the only one you remember" 
He'd wanted to take this slow. Wanted to savour you and never forget your sounds but you were making that hard. "If you're so desperate for my cock first, where do you want me to fuck you?"
"Here" you sigh as he unbuttons your blouse, pulling it over your head, unstrapping your bra and attaching his lip to one of your nipples. 
"Want it against the wall? What a slut."
You moan. It's so guttural and from so deep in your throat that Jungkook's already hard cock twitches in response to it. 
"Take off your pants" he demands of you, worried he's bossing you about too much but you do as you're told reaching down to unbutton your trousers. He flings his jumper to the other side of the room and pulls his joggers down in record speed. When you turn back to him, you're pressed against the wall again, your body naked between him. You're going to drive him mad. 
Your hands are running up and down his chest, tracing over his muscles. "Really want your cock Jungkook" 
He groans. Looking down between the two of you to watch his cock rest against your lower stomach. It's a good job he'd masturbated earlier or he would have busted at the sight of it. "Are you ready for me?" He asks you. Pushing your legs apart with his thighs and swiping a finger through your folds and applying pressure to your clit to test how wet you were. 
"Been dripping since you sent me that video earlier" you admit to him. 
"I'll go slow, I don't want to hurt you." He grips the base of his cock, using his hand to guide himself through your folds, beginning to push up into you gently. You collapse forward, using Jungkook's body to support you, biting onto his shoulder trying to keep from shouting out. "I'm stretching your cunt so well, told you I would"  
You felt exquisite around his cock, so warm and tight and wet. "Tell me I feel good," Jungkook urges you. Wanting to hear some praise. 
"You fit so well. Feel so good. You're so big" you tell him all at once, he'd fully bottomed out now, his hip bones touching your stomach. 
"Does it hurt?" He asks you and you shake your head. "Let me see your face" you fall back against the wall, detaching your mouth from Jungkook's shoulder and appreciating the mark you'd left there.
"Gonna move now" he warns you, pulling all the way out before pushing back in again, only watching your face contort into pleasure, your eyebrows pulling together. "You're so beautiful, Y/N" he peppers kisses across your face and nose. 
He could hardly believe you were wrapped around his cock right now. This had been everything he had wanted and more. There was one problem, now that Jungkook had you once, he would never know how to let go of you again. He couldn’t see anything beyond you in his future. He’s pulled back to reality with your hand gripping his bicep. You’re moaning his name “My gosh Jungkook please don’t stop” you tell him, he was never going to stop, he’d do whatever you wanted him to do if you just asked. Fuck you forever if you needed him too. 
"Fuck, Jungkook I'm so close" his name falling from your lips was like a promise, his name was meant for your lips.
"Where do you want me?" He asks you, worry in his features, he'd forgotten about a condom. 
"Don't worry" you tell him, caressing his face in your hands. "I'm on the pill and clean"
For a moment, Jungkook was disappointed, he wanted to fill you with his seed, you'd be all his then, if you were full of his child, everyone would know he had planted it there. God, he needed to sort his thoughts out. "I'm clean too" he tells you, his last check up had been years ago but he hadn't had sex since. "I'm close" he groans. "Cum with me Y/N"
"Can't hold it Jungkook" you whine, your hands leaving his face and scratching down his chest, you place your hand over his abs, feeling them twitch under your hands as he thrusts into you. 
"Be a good girl Y/N, hold it." He demands of you. He's so proud when you do as you're told, gripping onto his shoulders as a distraction. "We cum together on one okay?"
You nod, but Jungkook sees your eyes widen in panic. "Five" 
He reaches down, playing with your clit and smiling when you try to squirm away.
"Four"
Jungkook moves a hand away from your waist, using it to pull roughly at one of your tits. Your eyes watering.
"Three"
"Jungkook, please." You beg, he ignores you.
"Two" he smirks. It was so good having you in his control.
"One"
He watches as your eyes roll back, his cock being sucked into your pussy as it twitches and squeezes around him. His cum shooting into you and hitting your cervix makes you shake. You can hardly hold yourself up anymore. Legs shaking, hands gripping onto Jungkook's ass, holding him deep inside of you, you're completely spent out. 
"Shit" you mumble, still twitching. Jungkook uses his thumb against your neck to feel your pulse, he wasn't sure why he needed to feel the pace of it, how it was running, all because of him. 
"I did this" he reminds you, in case you'd already forgotten. "I made you cum"
"Mmh, all you Jungkook" He's holding you up as you slump against him, his cock going soft inside of you. "Never had a vaginal orgasm before" you admit, your cheeks burning, you'd always assumed it was a fault you had, you'd faked so many times.
"I'll always make you cum" he said. "It's my main priority." he runs a thumb over your cheek, smiling softly when he says  "You're my main priority now, i'll make sure you're always comfortable, and cumming"
5K notes · View notes
redeyerhaenyra · 7 months
Note
perv neighbor basil smut im begging u
Tumblr media
Perv!Neighbour Basil finds your camgirl account
Tumblr media
Summary: Basil is your neighbour, and after having formed a parasocial relationship with you, he finds your camgirl account. Things get.. a little out of hand.
Warnings: Oh man this one is filthy- Stalking, Parasocial relationships, m masturbation, cum tribute, professional sex work, cumming untouched, jealously, crying, like alot of crying, sextoy use, f reader
Notes: Myself and @ominoose have been bouncing this headcanon around in the dms for a bit and I finally have the opportunity to write it! I hope you like it baby tysm for requesting xx I really got carried away like this is SO LONG my goodness- This can be read as a part 2 to this fic but can also be enjoyed standalone x
Tumblr media
Basil has been watching you for a while
You're his neighbour, you moved in to the flat opposite him a couple months ago, and the only verbal interaction you'd had with him was a polite introduction through his letterbox when he wouldn't open the door
You hadn't seen him at all, physically. He'd seen you though.
Oh had he seen you
His heart swelled every morning and evening he'd watch you leave and come home from work, nights out, trips to the shop, ect
His relationship to you, practically non-existent as it were, at least from your perspective, was... complicated
Half of Basil understood you two were already dating, loyal to one another. The other half of him understood that that was a fantasy, and he often found himself caught between the two realities
Poor Basil so desperately wants the untruth to become the truth. He wants to kiss you, profess his love, have it be your hand tugging him off instead of his own every night
But since the... accident, he wouldn't dare let you see him. You'd never accept him- no one would. He was a monster
Poor baby, so insecure 😔
Eventually, jerking off whilst peering at you through the letterbox whenever you enter or exit your home isn't enough. He needs to see you, properly. Stare at your beautiful face and take in all it's contours and shapes without having to have you do the same to him
And so.. he goes online.
He knows your name- you'd told him when you'd tried to be a nice neighbour and say hi, and so with a little sleuthing, he finds your Instagram
Basil spends hours pouring through your every photo, getting wildly jealous and crying (yes he cries poor baby) when he sees photos with other men, and roughly pulling on his cock until its red and raw, having cum so many times over his thighs and chest.
He becomes even more obsessed, his need to see you covered in his cum in some way or another becomes an vital as eating and drinking
He starts printing out your photos and cumming on them- considers laminating them so he can wipe them clean and go all over again
But then what about keeping them covered? Forever staining you with his seed? He can't pick
One day, when he's going about his ritual of jerking it to your insta, he finds a new link in your bio;
"18+ site! Adult only content! Click here❤️"
That perks his interest
Sure he's not stranger to porn, or camgirls, what with all the time he spends alone watching porn, but you? He'd never have assumed.
Basil's heart races, and his dick twitches beneath his sweats
Tentatively, he clicks on the link
Your website looks professional, all properly set up
The first thing he sees is a trailer video- and oh boy
He literally cannot stop the sudden, untouched orgasm flooding through him when he sees the sneak peak you've put together of your content
He's so loud moaning and whining, tears well up again in his eyes becuase he's so sensitive but he needs more
This teaser video of you playing with your nipples and rubbing your tiny pussy through your panties isn't enough
And so, Basil goes to your subscription page. Immediately gets the highest sub deal, he doesn't care if he can't afford it. He needs you so much he'd bankrupt himself if he had to
The benefits of this subscription are many; He gets access to your work DM, he gets two video calls with you a week, and he gets to request some content from you.
Basil couldn't not be happier, he even forgts about his facial insecurity when a few minutes later he sees a message from you pop up on his notifs;
"Hi baby! Thankyou so so much for becoming one of my top donors! It really does mean the world x"
He forces himself to respond, anxiety creeping up his shoulder;
"Yeah np love your work."
Jesus he didn't mean to come off so dickish
You quell his feelings of worry with a smiley emoji, and ask him "So, what's with the username? "Lightningface"?"
He gulps. "I just like lightning is all."
"It is such a pretty phenomenon."
Pretty.. you'd called it pretty. The thing that had maimed him, his deformity... might you have called that pretty too?
"Soooo you're due to request some content from me! What would you like?"
And honestly, Basil isn't sure
Anything you'd give him, he'd take
"I don't mind."
"Are you sure? It is your request that you've paid me for, you can ask for whatever you like!"
Basil really thinks for a moment. A real head scratcher.
"Can you say my name?"
Basil doesn't realise how possessive he sounds
"Sure can!"
"Can it be my irl name?"
"Of course! What is it?"
The man holds his breath as he responds; "Basil. Like the herb."
"Omg!!! That's such a cute name!"
He giggles to himself, you're so fucking adorable he loves you so much
You tell him you'll make his request into a segment during your next livestream
He's jealous, he doesn't want you performing for anyone else.. but like I said, he'll take what he can get
Most of the time until his segment of your livestream he spends crying and jerking off in a strange cycle.
You're his, you shouldn't be showing off.. he feels like you've betrayed him. But at the same time you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen
Poor Basil is so conflicted
Finally, however, his request segment begins
You smile sweetly at the camera, and wave
"So, next up, I have a request from one of my top donors, he has such a cute name! Said he didn't mind what I did so I think i'm gonna surprise him~"
You reach to the side, pulling forth a clear silicone dildo
It's big. Basil gulps, could you take it? What if it hurt you?
You place it beneath you on your bed and slowly tease it between your folds, having already discarded all your clothes at this point
Basil chokes, his worn out cock stirring to life again
And then.. oh then..
You moan out his name, slowly sinking yourself onto the sextoy
Basil moans with you, and figures you must have an expensive microphone because the sounds coming from the screen are all but blasphemous
He loses himself to the rhythmic squelching of your cunt and your moans of his names
He cums so quickly, and there's so much of it, all over his chest
Poor baby whimpers, trying desperately to coax his poor dick back to life, not wanting to have finished so quickly
He wanted to last longer for you..
Luckily you finish not too long after him, he wants to swallow all of your sounds with his mouth
He's never seen such perfection
Glistening with sweat and panting, satisfied, you address the camera for the final time that night;
"I hope you enjoyed Basil, again thankyou so much for donating, I love you all so much, goodnight!"
You end the stream, Basil is plunged back into the dark loneliness of his flat
He sits for a few moments, taking in what just happened..
He soon finds himself looking at wedding rings online
Tumblr media
461 notes · View notes
stevieschrodinger · 10 months
Text
Eddie hasn't seen Steve for two weeks. Hasn't seen him since their lips brushed together. Hasn't seen him since Eddie had looked at Steve full of love and hope and want. Eddie hasn't seen Steve since Steve pushed him away, looking shocked and horrified enough to nearly destroy Eddie.
Someone's knocking on the trailer door pretty insistently.
"What do you want, Henderson?" Eddie asks, dragging the door open.
Dustin wrinkles his nose, "what happened to you man...don't you, like, wash, anymore?"
Eddie just...walks away. Back to his pit of despair. He can't do this.
Henderson is pulling on the back of his shirt, pushing something into his hand. A new tape, the kind you buy blank, but there's some writing on the card when Eddie peers at it. Track numbers, but instead of titles, the kids names, plus Nancy, Robin, Johnathan...the only names missing are Steve's and Eddie's own.
Part of Eddie starts to panic, the only time they've needed tracks for people-
"Eddie! Stop it man! It's not that, it's a surprise gift for Steve! For his birthday! You can put one track from you, it can be anything, just not, you know, your anti Vecna track. Or master of puppets, maybe. Just something fun or something that reminds you of Steve or whatever you want."
Eddie almost pushes the thing back at Dustin, certain that Steve doesn't want anything from Eddie.
He doesn't though, just nods. Goes and sits on the porch and chain smokes and doesn't really listen while Henderson talks at him for nearly an hour. Dustin wants him to do the track now. Eddie refuses, tells him he will drop it through Dustin's letterbox in the morning.
Eddie does, having gone and bought wrapping paper special, wrapping it up first to doubly make sure no one listens to it other than Steve.
Eddie does not go to Steve's birthday, but at one am, there's a banging on the trailer door.
Steve's there, throwing his arms around Eddie, pulling him tight, the corner of the tape case digging into Eddie's back pretty sharply, but he doesn't care at all.
Steve draws back, kissing him sloppy and really bad and kind of misses and half gets Eddie's cheek and lip but it's perfect even if Steve's eyes are wide and scared and uncertain before he hides again in the crook of Eddie's neck "total eclipse of the heart??? Really??" He mumbles weakly from his hiding place.
701 notes · View notes
Text
Love Letters: Day Five
Tumblr media
Steve Harrington x fem!reader [3K] A touch of a hand, only one bed with Steve.
THE LETTERBOX ♥
“Robin,” Steve hissed across the kitchen island, “Robin, I swear, I will actually kill you.”
The girl blinked, unfazed after so many years of friendship and empty threats. She grabbed the glass of water that Steve was definitely pouring for himself - not her - and grinned. 
“Sure you will. Do it in the morning, yeah? I’m beat,” she winked, backing towards the stairs where Nancy was waiting. “Sweet dreams… and you know, safe sex and all that.”
Steve glared, but his anger was overshadowed by the way his cheeks were glowing pink, even in the dark of the evening. 
You were waiting on the sofa, nervously picking at a loose thread on your shirt, pretending you didn’t hear everything that had just been said. Steve swallowed, blew out a deep breath and gave you a small, shy smile when you looked up and met his gaze. 
Honestly, Steve hadn’t even wanted to come on the trip. But it was Valentine’s weekend and despite breaking up a few months prior, Nancy and Jonathan were going above and beyond to assure the rest of the group that it totally wasn’t awkward and of course everyone could still hang out together. 
And what better way to prove that than to rent a cabin for a few nights out by Sugar Creek, courtesy of Mr and Mrs Harrington’s credit card, of course. Steve had shrugged off the offer at first, unbothered and wanting a weekend off to hang out in his room and be lazy, play some video games, reunite himself with his stash of playboys and maybe even catch a basketball game with some old school friends. 
But Robin begged and begged, claiming how much fun it would be, waxing poetic about forest walks and log fires and marshmallows and movie nights. The boy hadn’t perked up until she mentioned your name, and how you’d be joining. 
And that was fine. It was. ‘Cause you and Steve were friends, closer than ever, actually. Hanging out more and more just the two of you until Steve wasn’t sure what was just friends being friends and what was a date. But the first night at the cabin rolled in after pizza and some movies, a game of go fish that had alcoholic consequences and suddenly the bags that had been dumped at the doorway needed to be allocated to rooms. 
The three bedrooms. For seven people. 
Nancy and Jonathan cleared their throats and exchanged tight smiles, looking awkwardly around the room until Nancy’s voice went a little too high and bright as she exclaimed, “Robin! Roomies?”
Robin agreed, looking over at you with a silent apology, ‘cause she was the one who’s invited you. But you smiled and shrugged and weren’t all that surprised when Jonathan claimed Argyle and the two boys shuffled off to the room furthest away from Robin and Nancy’s. 
It just left you, Eddie and Steve. It seemed simple enough to deduce that you’d sleep on the sofa, sure that there’d be some spare pillows and quilts hidden in a closet or two. But Eddie threw himself down on the cushions before you could, stretching out and groaning theatrically, a grin on his face that seemed to be reserved for Steve. 
“Well,” he declared, beaming at you both as you stood shoulder to shoulder, lips parted in surprise. “Night night, kids.”
Steve made a strangled noise, somewhere stuck between surprise and a protest of some sort, but you beat him to talking. “Uh, wouldn’t I be better on the couch, Eddie?” you smiled, shy and sweet and it made Eddie grin wider. “You guys can bunk together instead.”
Eddie scoffed, already shrugging off his hoodie and throwing it somewhere across the room. “And leave a lady on the sofa?” He pouted at you. “What do you take us for, huh, sweetheart? Two douchebags?”
He didn’t give you a chance to protest. 
“Don’t sweat it, you and Stevie can share a room, it’ll be real cosy.”
You were definitely sweating it. And by the looks of the boy’s wide eyes and flushed cheeks, so was Steve. 
Eddie grinned again, salacious and as if he knew something you didn’t.  He lay back on the cushions, an arm sling behind his head as he waved the other at you both, fingers wiggling. 
“Leave room for Jesus,” he winked. 
————
Leaving space for the lord and saviour didn’t seem to be a possibility, ‘cause when you opened the door to the last bedroom, you stood and stared at the sight before you. From over your shoulder, with his chest almost pressed to your back, Steve swore quietly. 
There was only one bed. 
And it was tiny, less than a double, only a little larger than a single, with two pillows stacked on top of each other. You dropped your bag as you stepped into the room, a cosy space with matching pine furniture and deep green walls, almost the same shade as the forest outside the window. 
You spun on your heel, looking at Steve who was more flushed than ever, cheeks a pretty tint of pink and his lips were parted in a silent gasp that didn’t seem to end. He looked a little overwhelmed, the same way you felt. 
“Um—”
“Look, I can,” Steve interrupted, his voice a little weak, apologetic almost. “I can share the couch with Eddie.”
You frowned, a tiny stitch between your brows that Steve wanted to soothe away with the pad of his thumb. He didn’t. 
“Steve, the couch is smaller than the bed,” you huffed out a soft laugh but Steve could sense your nerves through the humour. He saw the way your chest was rising a little too quickly, the way you were pushing at your hair behind your ear. “And no offence to Eddie, but I think he might take up more room than me.” You smiled, shy and unsure and it felt like an offering. 
Steve smiled back, just as nervous, hands a little clammy ‘cause despite all the afternoons, the late nights and days out he’d spent with you, the closet he’d gotten was sitting beside you in the dark of his parents living room, shoulder to shoulder so he could feel you flinch when the movie screeched and the murderer appeared on screen. 
This was different. This was so much closer. This was more than the possibility of a date. 
“I could sleep in my car, or something,” Steve tried again but he really didn’t want to sleep in his car. But truly, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to sleep next to you. The idea of it overwhelmed him. “I don’t wanna make you uncom—”
“Steve,” you cut him off, not unkindly, voice all soft and unsure and you were frowning again but shitshitshit, you looked sad. “Do I smell bad, or something? D’you think I have cooties..?”
“What?” The boy looked alarmed, “no! No, no, of course not. You smell, like, the opposite of bad.” Steve was rambling, his chest tight and hot with embarrassment but he couldn’t stop himself. “You smell like, super nice, all the time. Like, like mango or something. Cherries ‘n shit. Fuck.”
 You were grinning by the time he cut himself off with a curse, lashes fluttering shut as he winced and you wanted to reach out to him, curl your fingers around his in reassurance but you didn’t feel as brave as that. Not yet. 
“I won’t feel uncomfortable,” you told him instead and it warmed Steve to hear how sincere you sounded. “As long as you’re okay with it?”
Steve could only nod. 
And then you were disappearing into the tiny bathroom across the hall, a bundle that Steve assumed was your pyjamas clutched to your chest with your toothbrush. You smiled as you passed him, still shy, cheeks as flushed as his and you were pretty, you were so, so pretty that it made Steve’s chest hurt. 
The boy groaned into his hands when you closed the door, wondering how he was supposed to spend the night pressed up against you and not pop a boner. ‘Cause that shit had been happening most mornings for the last eight years and having a pretty girl tucked in beside him wasn’t a necessary ingredient. 
He heard you run the tap, the sound of your jeans and sweater hit the floor and he startled, rushing to pull out what he’d packed. Despite the extra pair of jeans, another sweater, a few t-shirts, a handful of boxers and the switched off walkie- talkie Dustin insisted he took, there wasn’t anything that Steve could wear to bed. 
He swore, groaning again as he threw his bag down onto the carpet and started to panic. Of course he didn’t pack pyjamas, he didn’t own pyjamas and he really didn’t expect to be sharing a room with anyone other than Eddie this weekend, maybe Robin, and neither of them certainly cared about him sleeping in his underwear. 
Steve was standing in the middle of the small room when you reappeared, still in his jeans and t-shirt, one hand buried in his messy hair. He smiled at you, an almost grimace that looked like an apology but it quickly faded into a slack jawed gape as he took in your shorts, your tiny tank top with tinier straps. 
You scrunched your nose as you dropped your clothes on top of your duffle, crossing your arms over your chest and you faced him with a new sort of shyness. Steve wasn’t sure he’d seen this much of your skin before.  
“Sorry,” you murmured softly. “I kinda assumed I’d be in with Robin.”
Steve let out a laugh, just as soft as your voice and he smiled a little easier. “Same,” he grinned before it faltered, nerves overshadowing once more. “I don’t, uh, I don’t have anything to wear to bed.”
You swept past him, mango and strawberry body wash left in the air behind you, as you sat on the edge of the bed, a heat to your cheeks that only you could feel. You swallowed hard, licked your bottom lip and tried to sound bolder than you felt. 
“You can take your jeans off, Harrington, I won’t bite.”
Steve turned beetroot at your words, lips parted and you swore you heard his breath hitch. But he nodded, hands fumbling at his waistband and you smiled, ducking your chin and turning away so he could undress with your eyes on him. 
You heard the denim hit the floor with a soft thump, his sweater following, until Steve cleared his throat and you turned back to see him in chequered boxers, a white T-shirt that looked old and soft. His hair was a riot from how he’d undressed so swiftly, eyes bright with nerves? Anticipation? Excitement?
There so much skin to see, all bare legs and arms between you both, your tank top revealing more of your chest that you’d usually put on display and when Steve stretched over the desk to turn off the small lamp, you caught a flash of his tummy, the trail of hair there, the jut of his hip bones before the room went dark. 
You couldn’t see him. Not with the absence of street lights outside the window, the tall forest hiding you both from the glow of the moon. But you felt Steve fumble over, heard him curse when his toes hit his bag and the bed dipped when his hands found it. 
“You got a preference?” He whispered, “what side do you wanna sleep on?”
You shook your head and shrugged before you realised that the boy couldn’t really see you either so you let out a breath and whispered right back. “I don’t mind,” you told him but you shuffled back anyway, crawling up the mattress until you could tuck yourself under the duvet. 
Steve followed, slowly, hesitantly, the sheets lifting and the bed dipped as he lay beside you, his head on the same pillow, close enough that you could smell his shampoo and the cologne he always wore. 
“Shit, sorry,” he winced when his hip bumped yours, an inevitable outcome considering the lack of space but the contact made your body burn so you could only hum back a response. 
The silence stretched on as your eyes grew used to the dark, until the ink black turned into shades of navy and you could see the outline of the furniture, the rise and fall of Steve’s chest beside you. The boy was as close to the edge as he could get without falling off, and you were almost sure he’d planted one foot on the ground below to ensure that didn’t happen.  You were on your side, body stiff and straight when your hands curled to your chest so you didn’t accidentally touch him and it was uncomfortable, it was impossible, it was frustrating. 
“Steve?” Your voice rang out like a bullet in the quiet, despite how softly you spoke and Steve startled. 
“Yeah?” Steve shuffled further away and your stomach dropped. “You good? I can go downstairs, honestly, there’s an armchair that looks like it might actually recline and I—”
You reached out, a hand across the mattress, across the cool space between you both until your fingers trailed across his arm. He was warm, much warmer than you and you let your hand curl around his bicep, underneath the cotton of his shirt and you felt him still. You circled your thumb on the inside of his arm, just once, in a way that you hoped was reassuring. 
Steve stopped talking. 
“You can come closer, you know,” you hated how shy you sounded, how unsure. But you were wearing next to nothing in bed with the boy you really, really liked and maybe it had been a stupid though, but you started to believe Steve liked you too. You couldn’t handle his rejection, not like this. “If you want to. It’s okay.”
You held your breath. Then, Steve moved, shifting across the sheets -  inches, really - until his leg was pressed to yours and then he rolled, settling onto his side and facing you. He finally relaxed, and you felt it, the way he sunk into the pillow, the way his breath left him in a long, soft sigh that smelled like spearmint toothpaste. 
You could make out the line of his jaw, the slope of his nose, the curve of his lips. He was watching you, lashes fanning over the highs of his cheeks and Steve was all shades of blue and lavender in the shadows. You watched him part his lips as if to speak, but he decided against it, smiling softly instead.
So you whispered, “hi.”
His smile turned to something even more gentle, his body shifting a little closer still when you brought your hands to lay on the mattress between you both. Steve did the same, centimetres apart, close enough to feel the warmth from the other. 
“Hi,” he whispered back. He was looking at you like he thought you were magic, like you were made of gold dust, of stars. “Is this okay?”
You nodded, bottom lip tucked between teeth and it was okay, it was very, very okay. “Yeah, it’s okay, Steve.”
His heart clenched at the sound of his name on your lips, the way it always did, but Jesus Christ, you were whispering it to him in bed and it made him dizzy, made him see colours behind his eyelids that weren’t there when he blinked, hazy, feeling drunk. 
It made him feel braver. The dark, the blue shadows, the way you were looking at him like he wasn’t close enough. So he inched his hand forward, fingertips touching yours, a light graze, a small advance, a question, a what now? 
It was electric. 
Steve could’ve leant in, closed his eyes, found your mouth with his in the dark. Or maybe he’d wait until the last second, let his nose bump against your own until he could see your lashes flutter and your lips part for him.  
Would you do that? Would you let him? 
Your toes brushed his ankles, a shock of cold in the heat of the bed and it made Steve sigh, made his hand move over your own  a little more bravely. His pinky finger slid along the length of yours. He watched you swallow, eyes wide, bright even in the dark. 
He whispered your name, another question. Maybe a promise. It sounded like ‘please.’
You nodded, breath held in your chest until it burned, a white, hot lick of heat over your throat and it was delicate, it was insane, it was the best thing you’d ever felt until—
Steve leaned in, slow and careful, pupils blown wide and his nose pressed to your cheek  as you lifted your chin for him, lips parting so his slid over your own, a warm, soft kiss that made you gasp into his mouth. 
It was chaste until it wasn’t. It was gentle until your hand left Steve’s and they curled into the front of his shirt, soft cotton fisted between your fingers and you were pulling him closer still. His hand found your waist, slipping over and under the silky material of your pyjamas, an almost accident but he gripped you tighter when you pushed yourself into him. 
And then fingers were trailing up your side, a ghost over the dips and curve of your breast, almost too sensitive without a bra, too much bare skin to feel. Steve’s hand cupped your jaw, a soft cradle, a sweet hold until his thumb tugged at the corner of your bottom lip, sneaking between his mouth and yours so he could coax you to open up for him and you did with a breathy keen. 
Nothing else happened that night, but it was enough. You whispered into the night, kissed each other sweet and slow and deep and dirty and fell asleep tangled in each other. And in the morning, you avoided everyone’s knowing gaze, ignored the way Eddie grinned and wiggled his brows. 
“Good sleep?” He’d asked you both over a bowl of cereal, the smell of fresh coffee over taking the smoke from last night's fire. You flushed and Steve nodded, glaring at him. “Was there enough room for Jesus? Did he get squished? It’s really rude to squish Jesus, y’know.”
Neither you nor Steve answered, but the second night, you left even less room than the first. 
997 notes · View notes
Text
FINAL for real this time: Davis (Juror 8) from Twelve Angry Men vs the Bimodal Distribution from statistics
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Propaganda under the cut, and it's REALLY worth it:
Davis (Juror 8) (these are all from the single submitter)
a quick lil list babes, and I apologise for all of this in advance:
He's from the fucking film 12 angry men. like, aside from letterbox bootlickers and middle school hass students NO ONE has watched this film let alone care about it, it was made in 1957, is shot almost exclusively in one room and the entire film is just middle aged white men yelling at each other over whether some not white poor kid should be sent to the electric chair. what the fuck.
Henry Fonda, the actor, was 52 years old at the time of filming
Henry Fonda is the father of Jane Fonda, the woman who would revolutionise the 80's with her home workouts and her blindingly neon leg warmers.
His name wasn't revealed until the very end of the film and even then it's just "Davis."
I could honestly give him a lil smooch
He's absolutely not girlypop but he's the ally-iest ally who's ever allied
He's categorised as a "Benevolent Leader" on the Heroes Wiki
instead of the overwhelming urge for me to coddle him like most all other blorbos, i would appreciate it switched
I have a photo of him inside my saxophone case and sometimes i forget he's in there, then he creeps into my saxophone bell and when I play it he shoots out like a ballistic missile
Dude, on ao3 there's more fanfiction about the real life 80's British punk band The Clash than the entire film of 12 angry men, let alone Davis (80 fics come up under the clash, while 10 come up for 12 angry men)
I have a counter, and I've watched 12 Angry men a total of 145 times. The figure is up on my wall in tallies. whenever the number goes up, I like to watch it in 5's so then I can put another full group of tallies on my wall.
I have incredibly detailed stories about how Davis would boogie down to ringo starr's solo career, and they're written within the margins of a book called Tobruk written by Peter Fitzsimons. The only reason I reread that book is to wonder at my elaborate works of fiction
My HASS teacher was the one to introduce me to 12 Angry Men as he played it for the entire class. He gave us a set of questions to complete on the film and a few Law based questions as a little treat, and he expected it to be handed in the next day. What he didn't expect was an 11 page monster of a response that included social commentary, 4 paragraphs dissecting the character of Davis alone, deeply discussed comparisons between the landscapes of politics and law in the 50's to the present, and basically an entire point-for-point summarisation of the film, completed with obscure quotes from Truman, Eisenhower, Nixon and Presley (Elvis). He presented the printed masterpiece in front of the entire class to shame me.
After class he explained how his favourite Juror would either be 6 or 5, because 6 seems like a big dumb teddybear and he just liked 5. I explained how I liked Davis because he didn't want to send a kid to die, then he told me how Davis would make a good cowboy (at this point in time I was unaware of Henry Fonda's role in Once Upon A Time in The West) and I proceeded to go home and write a 3 part orchestral composition that I could pretend would play as the soundtrack to Juror 8: A Cowboy's Tale or something like that
I had started to make an animation meme starring Davis but only gave up when photoshop literally deleted itself from my laptop
I didn't even hear that Juror 8's name was Davis when I first watched it in class, somehow I only heard it on my 6th rewatch but when I did I literally got so excited I literally got winded and cried a little bit, I had to take a panadol because I got so lightheaded
I have learned the musical motif that plays throughout the film on saxophone, clarinet, recorder, guitar, bass, ukulele, piano and trumpet
I have visions of him
One of Davis' 3 children HAS to be gay and nothing can convince me otherwise
honest to god I'd be a home wrecker if it came to him
I quote not only Davis but the film a lot, and sometimes in the dead silence of all my friends I go on about how the old man couldn't have possibly made it to the door in such a short amount of time to see the kid running down the stairs (because the old man has a limp, and Davis proved it my limping around the room, which I have to say was incredibly attractive of him)
He's literally an architect
I once had a dream where Davis was in my bass guitar case when I opened it, and i literally just picked him up and started picking him like a bass guitar until I tried to play a full chord and he bit the hand that was meant to be on the fretboard. I dropped him and he fell on his ass, and when I said "what the hell dude what was that for" he said bass chords are lowkey ugly to listen to, and since then i don't like playing bass chords because now they're lowkey ugly to listen to. before this ordeal, i enjoyed them, but alas
i once got my romantic partner to write me a davis x reader fanfiction as a birthday present
my parents believe that Davis is my first celebrity crush, and while they're actually wrong it's still actually so embarrassing they believe that because OH MY GOD it's literally JUROR 8 FROM 12 ANGRY MEN
I've attempted slam poetry about him
I've eaten a paper printed full a4 size photo of his hand
I would also not mind him to be literally my father, but given the rest of the things I've just said about him that's really weird and I recognise that
the Bimodal Distribution
First of all, it's a math concept. that is already pretty bizarre of a thing to be blorbo-ifying. Second of all, I don't know any calculus, and I don't consider myself a math person (because I hate arithmetic), but I really like this guy for some reason. I mean this graph clearly holds the secrets of the universe. don't you just want to l o o k at it . like you could solve everything in the world with that boy
154 notes · View notes
septembersghost · 10 months
Note
was looking at presley's insta and the first thing i clicked on was this:
https://www.instagram.com/reel/Csr9vaGJmmy/?igshid=YmM0MjE2YWMzOA==
the first lyrics r so elvis inspired i love it sm!!
Tumblr media Tumblr media
ahhhh i love this! it never ever stops astonishing me how powerful his presence continues to be in music and as an inspiration to other artists, it's such a vibrant way to keep love for him alive. 💖
12 notes · View notes
jymwahuwu · 1 year
Note
JUST THINK ABT IT AHH Yuta okkotsu n bully!reader having a middle school reunion n somehow the kids like convince him to bring yn to the reunion and the other ex classmates just see bully victim yuta as a intimidating guy who changed alot married to bully! Reader who was fierce and all being submissive af and having alotta kids n plus maybe another one coming- >w< AHHHHH
Tumblr media
sorry for the delay. there are a lot of things to do temporarily... ˚‧º·(′̥̥̥ o ‵̥̥̥)‧º·˚ anyway, i wrote it, bully reader deserves it. hope you like this🤭
TW: yandere, (implied) dub-con, forced pregnancy, forced marriage, housewife kink, humiliation (a little bit), (mentioned) bullying in the past
Everything happens from the letterbox. One with your name on it and one addressed to yuta okkotsu.
"Mama!" The little baby volunteered to help you get the letter, and came back with two letters. He stands on tiptoe and holds the letter in front of you. "Letter!" At that time, Rika was playing with the babies, and they pouted hoping that Aunt Rika could hug them (they wanted to play a game that could fly). They come over as soon as they hear it, and sit next to the two of you to read the letter together. You thanked him by kissing his little forehead and then stare at the letter in confusion, because it's usually just some bills mailed home, with only Yuta's name on it.
Oh, the alumni association. middle school reunion.
You have to explain to the kids what school reunion is. You kinda don't want to answer these questions though.
Yuta just smiled, not wanting to embarrass you too much. Even though he liked to humiliate you before and put you in your place.
Babies seem curious, their friends and classmates are precious to them, and they know that Mommy is always doing chores and can't hang out with friends. So, they persuade papa to take you out.
So Yuta took you there. Damn, you don't want to go at all (you didn't say it).
The school reunion location is in a hotel. You took Yuta's arm, wearing a decent skirt, like a submissive little wife. When the middle school classmates saw you coming, they asked who the two of you were. After so many years, everyone has changed, after all.
Yuta Okkotsu.
You gave your first name, but your surname changed to Okkotsu's.
Some middle school classmates were stunned because they remembered Yuta, the classmate who was always bullied. And you were one of those who bullied him. Your face starts to burn. They look at each other, but quickly change the subject and invite the two of you to sit down.
Ex classmates asked what kind of job Yuta is doing now. Yuta makes up a job as a bodyguard. This is not an outright lie. He does get paid a good salary to remove the curse (and kill some people if they get in the way). In their view, this is reasonable. Yuta looked intimidating even when he was smiling now. It's kind of scary. They also asked what your occupation is. You looked at Yuta, lowered your head, and responded timidly and awkwardly, you are a housewife. They froze.
Some classmates who were already mean when you were in school. They brought up your dreams at the time. This further humiliates you. Maybe you were thinking about getting married too. Still, definitely not to be the little wife of the man you used to bully - take care of the kids, clean and cook at home.
Oh, think about it, what if there are classmates who liked you in the school reunion? They might have dated you, that Yuta has witnessed - they hugged your waist, kissed your cheeks, whispered in your ear. You were so untouchable back then. Or, they like you but aren't together for some reason. Or, they have a crush on you and you're too dumb to ever realize it. Anyway, Yuta knows this. He leaves you briefly to socialize with some classmates, but comes back and finds that person talking to you? 🥺
They ask how are you doing, how is Yuta treating you? Then they want to make further contact, even almost touch your hand, or exchange phone calls with you. At this time, Yuta will deliberately hold your waist in front of them, kiss your cute cheeks, and introduce them again. He is your husband now. You've been acting like a shy little wife, snuggled into his arms. Hell, he'll even mention you're pregnant, again. You already have several babies. It's just that it's early in your pregnancy, so it's less obvious.
Yuta won't check your phone when you get home. He had always been a good husband after all. A good husband means trusting their partner. However, if he finds out about their call, he'll do a full and complete update on your phone and fill you up with cum <3
1K notes · View notes
pix3lplays · 10 months
Note
can there be an angst ver of the reader giving birth where like the reader dies while giving birth but the child survives and like one of the readers friends gives the hsr boys{dan heng,welt,jing yuan,sampo,gepard,luocha,blade}a letter the reader wrote incase she died while giving birth and the letter said like take care of our child or smt also sorry for this being so specific
Oh snap okay I’ll absolutely try this!
Alternate ending to this, but we’ve added Welt lolol
Cw! Pregnancy
-Honkai Star Rail men and reader who died during childbirth-
Dan Heng: is heartbroken, of course, to hear the news. But his child survived? A little piece of you lives on. I imagine he’d find a way to name the kid after you.
After receiving your last letter, he’s even more determined to raise this kid for you. He wants them to grow up to be like you: kind, compassionate, all of that, so he strives to act like you so his child will imitate. He still struggles with being a distant, and now a SINGLE father, but he makes do with what he has. He also has the Astral Express crew to help him in times of need, and March 7th is a great babysitter when he needs to go on a mission or something.
He misses you so much though. Sometimes he writes you letters, and he stores them in a little letterbox in the archives.
No one else is allowed to read them, but one day when his kid is old enough, he’ll let them look at them.
Welt Yang: Welt Yang immediately asks about his child when he hears the news of your passing. His child is alive, thankfully, the only good news he could’ve hoped for.
He tries to make the best of his situation, without you. Of course he misses you. More than he can say. But he knows he can’t dwell on you forever. Especially once he receives your letter, telling him not to be sad, but to take care of your child to the best of his ability.
And he really does. For himself, and for you. His child is raised in a loving environment, aboard the Astral Express, and Himeko is of great help in raising his child. She becomes a sort of mother figure for your child.
Welt likes to think you would be okay with that.
Jing Yuan: Jing Yuan, for once in his life, is at a loss for words, and he genuinely doesn’t know what to do with himself when he’s handed his baby but told you didn’t make it.
But the General is familiar with loss. It’s not a foreign concept to him. Doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt any less to lose you, but he knows for his own sake, and the sake of his child that he must move on.
Yanqing becomes an older brother figure to your child, and with his help Jing Yuan finds coping with your passing a little easier. When he’s not busy raising his child, he spends his time in the gardens, reflecting on his time with you, and how short lived your life together was, and how regrettable it is. But he also remembers all the happy times, those are truly important, he knows this, and chooses to focus on honoring the good memories he shared with you, and he looks forward to when his child is old enough to hear about you. He treasures your letter, and keeps it in a drawer of his nightstand, so he can remind himself of the mission you gave him as a father and not as the General.
Sampo Koski: Didn’t want this child in the first place. He’d much rather have you. But then your letter arrives and he does feel a twinge of guilt in his soul. Alright. Fine. If your dying wish was for him to raise this child, then he’ll TRY. He’s still not a great dad. He’s very busy with ‘work’, but he does make a bit more of an effort to speak to and understand his kid.
He’s surprised, but he actually likes his kid quite a bit. They’re like a little you. That’s so precious. Maybe being a father isn’t so bad?
He has a Lot of room for improvement when it comes to fatherhood. He really does. But he does his best too. The type of father who probably brings you up when his kid is a little too young for the news. It’s hard to blame him. He’s just excited to tell his kid about you.
Gepard Landau: takes the news pretty hard. He’s handed his child and all he can think about is you, and how you should be the first one to hold this baby but No you’re DEAD and you can’t hold your baby and-
He spirals a bit. He has a hard time raising the child on his own. At first. Until Serval comes to him with a letter from you, begging you to please do his best if anything should happen to you.
Well, it fills him with determination. Determination to make you proud. Determination to take care of his child.
Serval babysits while he’s at work, which is often, but even when he’s exhausted from work he always comes home and makes time for his kid.
He really is a good dad. Your letter was just what he needed to pull him to his senses. And he has his sister to help him when he needs that assistance, or a nudge in the right direction.
Luocha: (based on my own assumptions about this mysterious man that will Probably be disproved or something in later game updates lolol) Luocha takes the news…a little angrily actually. He can’t believe you’d go and die on him like that, especially for a child he doesn’t even really want. He receives your letter, resists tearing it to shreds in anger. He knows he’ll regret it if he did that. For him, death is not the end. He’ll find a way to bring you back. And he devotes himself even harder to studying immortality.
He doesn’t necessarily…neglect his child. But he’s not a great father without you around. He’s distracted. Focused on his research and work. He doesn’t really have time to raise his child, but he will, since you seemed to desire it so much.
Let’s just say he does his job, but he’s not a great dad without you around. He’d be much better if you were alive and well and by his side.
Blade: Blade is just as quiet and as impassive as ever when he receives the news. But anyone who knows him can tell he’s taking the news HARD.
He entrusts his child to Kafka and Silver Wolf, and just disappears for about a week, your letter in hand. If this is your last wish for him, then fine, he shall fulfill it, he just…needs a moment to grieve you properly. Hence the sudden disappearance.
He grieves hard. He actually cries over your death, in private, away from everyone. He misses you so much. He can’t believe you’d just…leave him alone in this world.
When he returns, it’s like nothing’s happened, except for the fact he has a child to take care of. He quietly thanks Kafka and Silver Wolf for taking care of them while he’s away, and then takes on the responsibility himself. He’s still distant and cold towards his child, but he’s trying his best, and he has Kafka to help him along.
250 notes · View notes
buckgasms · 10 months
Text
Doctors Barnes and Rogers (Part 4)
So I had a meltdown but I'm back and feeling hotter than ever so let's just dive right in shall we? It's not smutty 😭 but don't worry, it will be 😍
Tumblr media Tumblr media
A few months had passed and you were now about three months along. Although you were excited, it had been quite challenging. You felt sick almost all day, exhausted and fed up. Trying to keep on top of tidying up your flat and take care of yourself was a huge challenge and all you could do was nap.
You trudged to the fridge and as you went to get a cold drink you smiled at the little sonogram you'd stuck to the fridge door. The little grey squiggles that showed your baby in their first few months. Sadly a wave of nausea interrupted your happy moment and you groaned, heading back to the living room.
You were woken from a doze by a knock on the door, making you jump before shuffling over. You were surprised to see both doctors standing there, looking at you with a mixture of concern and relief that you were in fact alive.
"What's going on?" Was all you could say in your surprise. Bucky chuckled as he rolled his eyes and nudged the door until you came to your senses and let them in.
"We could ask you the same question honey?" Steve said sternly as you sat down looking sheepish. "You missed an appointment today, your next scan, and you haven't been keeping us up to date with how you are?"
You felt tears well up in your eyes and you sank back in your chair. "I'm sorry" you sighed as you pinched your nose. "I just feel so exhausted, it slipped my mind..."
Bucky reached over and laid a hand on your thigh, stroking gently as you quietly cried. "It's ok sweetheart, it's ok..." You sniffled and nodded, "I'm sorry, I should have called you, I just..." You descended into more tears as they both cooed and rubbed your shoulders and legs. Steve pressed a kiss to your hair and took your hand in his.
"We have a suggestion on how to sort this out, would that be helpful?" You leant into his body and nodded as Bucky chuckled and continued rubbing your legs, which made you sigh in relief.
"You might not remember because you are a silly thing, but in the paperwork, it was agreed that you could live in provided accommodation, alongside a substantial amount of money to help you in the meantime. Do you remember that?"
You pouted and nodded, as Steve smiled, giving you another kiss. "Very good honey, well that's where we're gonna take you today. If you don't like it, we can figure something else out but let's just see how it goes for now."
⚕️
You weren't sure what you imagined but when you arrived on a leafy street in Brooklyn, a pretty brownstone greeting you, you heart leapt in excitement. It also made you cringe to think about your messy apartment with peeling paint and smashed windows littering the facade.
You all but ran up the steps to see where you were and your shock doubled when you saw the name on the letterbox. Doctor Barnes M.D and Doctor Rogers M.D. It was their house? Well this was a surprise.
Finally they caught up with you and saw you staring but didn't say anything, just smiled before unlocking the door and guiding you in.
It was so beautiful, everything tastefully decorated, like something out of a magazine. Neutral tones, soft fabrics, fluffy rugs, tasteful art, big windows letting in the soft light from outside and that was just the living room! You wanted to run around and explore and sensing your anticipation, Bucky took your hand and guided you around the house.
They had a home office with two desks, and walls covered in books and a gorgeous, well fitted kitchen that had your favourite coffee maker, a huge fridge and every other gadget under the sun. You couldn't help but do a little happy dance when you saw it, and wrapped your arm around Bucky's as he pointed a few other things out to you before guiding you upstairs.
There were three bedrooms although working out which one belong to which Doctor was a real struggle. Both had lots of books, artwork (which had been made by Steve no less) and wardrobes stocked with fancy clothes and workout gear. It made your head spin.
At least until you saw the bathroom. It was insane. A beautiful walk in shower and a huge bath which you couldn't help but squeal at. You tried to remain casual but it was incredibly difficult when faced with such luxury and comfort.
Finally he showed you the last bedroom. "This is yours sweetie" he said and guided you in. It was fairly plain compared to the other rooms, but he explained it was so you could decorate as you wished. "This bed is huge" you giggled as you sat down on it, glad for a break as you bounced on it a little. He took your hands in his and kissed your fingers. "Well if you want, you don't have to be in it alone..." You flushed and felt your stomach flip, "Share it with you? What about Steve?"
"Glad to know I'm still remembered" Steve said as he came into the room, a smile on his face as you pouted again. "I don't understand? Are you two together?"
Steve sat down next to you, wrapping an arm around your waist and rubbing your tummy a little. "Let's just say, Bucky and I feel the same way about a lot of things, and that includes you honey..."
You giggled at that but still felt unsure. "One last room to show you, and then you can have a think..." Bucky pulled you back up and lead you to a small room across the way from yours.
You gasped when you went in, a beautiful sunshine yellow room greeted you, with a crib and nursing chair already set up. Like your potential new room, it was still a little empty, but you understood the implication, that you could decorate it to your heart's desire.
They'd even left out some teeny little baby gloves and booties which you couldn't help but pick them up and smile, turning to them and laughing accusingly and Steve's sheepish face. "I couldn't resist I guess..." But you couldn't stop smiling at it. For the first time in weeks you finally felt really excited again.
⚕️
You sat in their little garden, sipping on a cold drink pondering what you were going to do. Obviously the house was perfect and you would be very well looked after. Even in this short visit you had been waited on hand and foot and even been given a little check over by Bucky.
Your pondering was cut short by Steve and Bucky joining you and taking a seat next to you.
"We do have some rules whatever you decide to do sweetheart" Bucky said seriously, "if you need something you have to tell us, if you feel poorly you need to let us know, and no more missing appointments."
"Ok, I promise... I... I think I'd like to live here if that's ok with you?"
They both laughed and took your hand in each of theirs, "that'll be great sweetheart..."
275 notes · View notes
heartdaichi · 1 year
Text
THE MORNING AFTER (a. hayakawa)
aki is secretly a massive softie + morning routines + fluff + attempted gn!reader + soft sex + aftercare + hookups // 18+ content ahead. minors do not interact.
a white christmas holiday collab.
Tumblr media
aki hayakawa is a morning person. at the crack of dawn, he slides out of bed, rubs his eyes before checking his phone and heading to the bathroom. one, two, three splashes of cold water to his face and exactly two minutes of teeth-brushing accompanied with the occasional morning shower is all that consists of his hygiene routine before he’s in the kitchen, pouring himself a cup of black coffee and collecting the day’s newspaper from his letterbox.
the view from his balcony is the same every morning as he smokes his cigarette and reads the front page, one leg crossed over the other. an hour later, he heads back inside, puts on his suit and heads off to work.
the same routine, every morning, for months on end. aki doesn’t dislike it. he doesn’t love it either. but he doesn’t want it to change.
this morning shouldn’t be any different, except instead of the space beside him being empty, this morning, it’s occupied by another sleeping body. aki is thrown several minutes off schedule watching you sleep, your naked chest rising and falling as you breathe rhythmically.
as he watches, he begins to remember last night. he remembers how you both came cluttering into the apartment, connected by your lips on his and his hands on your waist. he remembers how he led you succinctly to his bedroom, pulling you onto the bed and never once letting go of your body. he remembers the delicate whispers of his name in his ear as he held you in a tight embrace, pounding slowly into your dripping hole.
aki remembers the exact moment you finished together, his head buried into the crook of your neck as he filled you to the brim with his release. he was still for a while, and when he pulled out you were fast asleep. aki had retrieved a wet towel from the bathroom and wiped you clean before finally tucking you in, later sliding in next to you and observing your sleeping figure before finally dropping off to sleep himself.
honestly, aki thought you would have woken up in the middle of the night, found your clothes and left. most of the people he brought home did that, so he was surprised to find you still asleep in his bed. just as he was about to slip out from the covers and wake you up, an arm slid around his waist and pulled him closer.
“stay,” you mumble, still half asleep. “you’re warm.”
aki’s heart starts racing at a hundred miles an hour. he checks the time on his phone. he’s been in bed twenty minutes later than he should be, and if he doesn’t get up now, he’ll won’t have time to have a shower, or make coffee, or read the newspaper, or-
his thoughts are cut off when he feels you snuggle into his chest and sigh dreamily. his hand automatically comes up to stroke your hair, and as his eyes start to close slowly, aki thinks:
another five minutes never hurt anyone.
Tumblr media
© hiraizens 2022 — all rights reserved. do not copy, repost or translate my works without permission
779 notes · View notes