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#Idk if it’s a gender thing or what but I don’t fuck with them
slaingelo · 2 days
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pride headcanons and boy do I have a fuckin lot so take your pic ig, (oh yea they’re all transmasc hcs ofc so I’ll just list it)
transmasc Ruto, Botw paya and Zelda, Cia
oh also Botw Zelda and Link are Transmasc for Transmasc, they are very gay and very in love
feel free to draw which one you wanna or not one at all you don’t have to answer this!
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this might've made me go a bit insane ok. first thoughts upon seeing this; LACE UP BINDERS T4T BOTW ZELINK HELPING EACH OTHER LACE THEM UP PROPERLY. gotta draw that, might come back to do those other ones though bc boy do I have thoughts about those also !
second thoughts. holy Fucking shit this gives me an excuse to go off about trans masc zelda and how inherently interesting that can be to the entire narrative. and then realizing how amazingly it could mesh with botw zelda's story specifically into a queer retelling.
THANKS ANON THIS ALONE MADE ME ACTUALLY LIKE BOTW ZELINK WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME
zelda's role is to take up the powers of hylia. zelda has always been a girl, a woman. of course all of them would be. hylia is a goddess. the first zelda was hylia's personal vessel.
botw zelda [ going to call him zel here on out in this post for clarity lol ] would have to come to terms with how his feelings don't align with his self-perceived role. at first, he thinks his yearning to be a boy is more to do with hating his responsibilities. i think his relationship with both his gender and his role in destiny is an incredible complicated one because of all of this.
meeting link, the other destined one, probably really fucks him up more. link being a trans boy himself, on a surface level, one might think would bring zel relief; someone like him, so close to him. but it does the opposite. link has always been a boy. this link, being assigned female at birth, is a boy as well. to zel, this reaffirms his thoughts that destiny has locked their genders into place.
in general, i don't think transphobia is a huge thing in the loz universe. it's like, a very niche kind of bigotry thankfully. it's MY childhood fantasy games and i get to mostly poof it out. i think the big exception to this would be those associated with destiny, prophecies, and of course, the reincarnation cycle.
zel is pressured to not only be a good daughter and princess, but to take on the powers that should be blessed to him by the goddess herself. everything just drives him further into hating everything, including link early on.
a big part of zel being able to actually unlock his powers would be both what i think happens in game [ desperation to protect ] as well as acceptance of himself. zel's inner turmoil over his own identity, where his duty as holder of the triforce of wisdom starts and right to be himself ends.
of course, there's no actual reason for the holder of wisdom to be a woman; as there is none for the holder of courage or power to be a man. it just so happens that it tends to be like that.
i think a retelling like this could add such a strong layer onto zel's character arc. it's so good. augh. thank yuo i hope any of this is somewhat coherent. they kiss in the end
btw i think generally trans masc zeldas go for the name sheik [ thank you OOT sheik you walked so the other tran masc zeldas could run ] but botw zelda specifically would take the scientific name of like, a small critter or plant, and alter it so it sounds kind of like a hylian name. OR just go by 'zel'. or both ! idk.
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cassandralexxx · 5 months
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if wearing skirts didn’t make me want to kms I would have so many more options for what to wear to Christmas mass :/
but here we are
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jiggery-duggery · 7 months
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I think if I get they/themmed one more time by someone who knows damn well what my pronouns are I’m just gonna go full chimpanzee mode and start tearing peoples faces off
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appreciatingtokrev · 2 years
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okay so i.. just gotta vent/rant. don’t read if you’re uncomfy? also brief tw! suicide mention in the 2nd last paragraph
i can’t exactly tell you why yet, but god, i’m not okay right now. i’m angry. sad. hurt. i feel played. yk, my ex is abro & genderfluid? i think? at least their insta says that, tho idk how often they update that. but his whatsapp pfp currently has an mlm & a trans flag on it, so, at least rn, they’re trans mlm and i think he goes by he/they? and, like, i’m happy they’re comfy in his identity and all that shit. like, pop off, ig. nice you can be you. but i feel so fucking played by this goddamn bitch. at least i’m now 100% sure that i’ll never ever go back to them no matter what?
when we were in a relationship (that was uh 8 months in 2020/2021, from october until very early june) he basically forced the label 'woman' onto me. back then, they were a non-binary lesbian going by they/she, i think. not too sure about the pronouns, but that doesn’t really matter. the problem was the label lesbian. they knew well before our relationship that i identify as demiboy. and for me, there was nothing lesbian or wlw about that. i identified as omni ace, with a pretty big mlm lean. they knew there was zero girl in me and still identified as a lesbian, saying i’m an 'exception' and all that stuff. tbh, i don’t think he ever saw me as anything that doesn’t include girl or is heavily male. and, idk, i’m just fucking angry. because, now, after a year, he’s fucking gay. they’re identifying as a person that could be attracted to me with labels that i’d be okay with in a relationship. (like, idc if you’re lesbian & attracted to me. kinda contradictory with my identity, idc tho. but as soon as we’re dating & you’re a lesbian, i’m not comfy.) it’s fucking with my head, fr. why?? why could he never be gay for me??? why did they have to be lesbian?? i forced myself to be genderfluid for them. we called our relationship lesbian because he wanted to. i ignored all of me and tried to identify as a non-binary lesbian for them, just so he’s comfy. and now, suddenly, he’s fucking mlm.
i know they aren’t at fault for identifying the way they do, but it fucking hurts. like, i made myself out to be a whole other person for 8 months!!!! eight!! while not comfy at all!! and 4 out of those, i wasn’t even happy, and only stayed bc i was 99% sure he’d go kill himself once i break up and i was so fucking afraid of that!!!!!
i can’t fucking put the shit i’m feeling right now into words. i’m not livid. i’m not bawling my eyes out. i guess i’m just angry. pained. disappointed. hurt. idk. but not happy, not happy at all.
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allofuswantgwinam · 3 months
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the way that i feel so fucking old after saying this 🤣🤣🤣
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prans-micellar-water · 10 months
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I have some thoughts brewing abt my gender and sexuality that I might feel ready to share soon. Idk idk
#I always get fucking switcharoo’ed though as soon as I start hyping myself up to come out#like I was 🤏 this fucking close to coming out as [redacted] a few months ago#but then a breakup and tlt rewrote my brain chemistry and now idk about anything anymore#I just. somehow feel more sure this time#I’m still just struggling a bit with insecurity abt my body (specifically my face)#the heavens cursed me with a baby face and several uncommon facial features#meaning makeup tutorials that work with my face are few and far between#I struggle to look cute as a femme and I look too femme to be interpreted as butch/masc even when I try really fucking hard#idk I’m just afraid of these identities bc the combo is sort of niche and no one irl would get it. the only thing I dread more#than not ‘’living my truth’ or w/ever#is having to explain my gender to people. I would seriously rather live in the closet for the rest of time#just. the idea of constantly being othered in that way is upsetting to me. I hate standing out#and I hate that it would another layer of complexity to like 95% of my social interactions. plus I’m afraid of getting made fun of#I would totally clock as a snowflake in my yeehaw MAGA area#I just. I want to go someplace where looking like a genderfuck is normal#I don’t want to be brave I want to be surrounded by queer people who understand what it means to truly be accepting.#who understand what it means to look at someone who the rest of society would deem undesirable or cringe or confused#and to truly see them as beautiful. to see them as beautiful specifically BECAUSE of the traits that alienate them from the rest of society#anyway I think what I really want is to move to the nearest gayborhood and adopt a dog with a hot butch who shares every one of my kinks.#is that too much to ask#weekend whining
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KorTac members are WHORES, you’re only safe because you’re Colonel’s favorite.
You never talk, always have your mask on and the clothes and gear you have to wear daily doesn’t give too much information about what you could be. Male? Female? Only you know, and only you’ll decide when and how you’ll tell others (at least that’s what you thought).
When women from the base hit on you, hugging, tugging on your arms, pressing their tits all over you, you definitely get flustered, but you don’t know how to break it to them, that you’re actually a female and pretty much enjoy yourself every night by watching big muscled men jerking off on the unholy sites, with their hairy torsos and their angry looking cocks.
One day, some rookies (too fed up with your mysteriousness) drag you to the communal showers, laughing and calling you out on never joining them for one. Making silly jokes as ‘you’re afraid of us or our dicks?’ ‘What’s it big boy? Your cocks too big to grant us the pleasure of its presence in the same room as us?’ Or ‘no I bet it’s actually small, he just doesn’t want us to see it!’ Or ‘guys leave him alone, you’re gonna get in trouble with colonel’
As you are being dragged, you arrive inside the showers, everything is on display and you know it, there’s no curtains, no privacy, of course, that’s why you shower always at night and ALONE. But when you’re thrown inside and all you can see are huge junks, wet muscles, tensed abs and men moaning, you truly understand how much you actually fucked up for wanting to cover up your identity so bad and leaving people just assume your gender.
Your colonel suddenly facing your way with his hard dick pointed directly at you it’s not making it easier for you. But the rookies starting to trash you around, throwing you from ones arms to another, while starting to jokingly remove your clothes it’s not of help either.
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Hlep I have some big ideas w this one c:
I just wanna say that the rookies will definitely not be playing with us in that sense, and this will probably be a KorTac x some other members probably from taskforce141. Probably an orgy thingie or idk, still have to decide.
Under here a poll with the characters I have in mind, just vote and the most rated ones are getting it. I thing of making it with at least 5 men x reader :3
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osddid-i-do-that · 2 months
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Things from Before the OSDDID Realization that now make heaps of sense:
Taking personality tests multiple times because even when I answered them completely honest they’d always come out different
Orientation impossible to pin down (simultaneously aroace/pansexual/lesbian/gay trans guy/queer fucking mess)
Same with gender
Conflicting opinions that somehow exist at once (I love weed/I fucking HATE all drugs and don’t want to be anywhere near them)
Frantic desire to run home and change into something totally different out of nowhere because the clothes I loved this morning are suddenly Awful
Keeps changing name every few months
If I do not journal/scrapbook/take photos of EVERY DAILY EXPERIENCE I WILL FORGET and my whole life will be a blank empty space!!!
“That’s not what you said last time I asked …”
Idk sometimes it’s my Favorite Thing and sometimes I couldn’t care less 🤷
I actually handle trauma really well because right after it happens I don’t even remember! 😇
Hate hypothetical questions because I have no clue how I’d react to any given thing until it happens and any answer feels like a lie
There’s def more but y’all should add your own 💖
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scoutswritingcorner · 1 month
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More Papa Headcanons!
PLATONIC Papa!Alastor & GN!Child!Reader
Angst Flavored~
First Part
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TW: ANGST- Just a teeny tiny bit. For the soul. Oh and Susan is mentioned.
A/N: Enjoy~
I usually leave this part up to you guys, the readers of my ramblings, but what if you were born out of wedlock? You are technically Alastor’s bastard child. Especially during that time period? That was greatly frowned upon and you never knew who your mother was! But despite all of that, Alastor and his Mom adored you. (Don’t get me wrong she probably chewed his ass out for it but she adored you.) 
Now, as you grew older people started saying it to your face, even kids at your school. But everytime you brought it up to Alastor he got angry, not at you, so he teaches you how to defend yourself and makes sure that you know to never start a fight. 
But once in hell, the name still sticks. Susan once overheard Alastor and Rosie’s conversation about it and called you that to your face. (Mean ass old woman right there.) And to say you were upset was an understatement, you knew better than to get into adult’s business but you just ran to your Papa sobbing cause you had thought you escaped that treatment. Despite being in Hell. You’re just clinging to his pants as you try your darndest not to cry but gosh the words keep echoing, both Rosie and Alastor are immediately worried about you. Cause you never cry or cause too much trouble!
Once they hear what Susan said? Rosie has to keep Alastor from flipping his lid. You stay by his side the rest of the day too scared to go play with the other kids in Cannibal Town. It shouldn’t bother you too much but you’ve been called that your entire few years of living and now it’s followed you down to Hell? What if the others start doing such a thing? 
Not to worry, Auntie Rosie shuts the whole thing down if she even catches a whiff of it. 
NOW ONTO NICER THINGS-
Full credit to @aceblaze01 for the idea of Vox being in Child!Reader’s afterlife! Especially when he and Alastor were hanging out(idk if I should call them partners). He was like an odd Uncle to you! Also 100% would let you watch kids cartoons on his screen, but you were so confused by it that you stood there staring at him before finally getting comfortable to sit down and watch those weird picture shows your papa talked about. He would totally put on Disney films for you. 
You watched Bambi once and ended up crying. He had to hold you and calm you down before Alastor was alerted. After that he stuck with everything else but Bambi. 
You sometimes go with Alastor to Overlord meetings and sit next to him drawing, not paying any mind to what’s going on either. You mostly draw your Papa and Auntie Rosie but you’ve started to draw Vox and that man cries when you hand him the drawings of him with very shaky handwriting and misspelled words. He loves it and keeps it hung up on his wall framed and everything. You gave a drawing to a lot of the nicer Overlords as a thank you for letting you join with your Papa. You gave one to Zestial, Carmilla and many of the unnamed ones that didn’t look too scary..you gave those to your Papa so he can give it to them. 
Even after all those years and Alastor’s falling out with Vox as a whole, he kept your drawings still safely framed. He doesn’t have the heart to get rid of them. Valentino said one bad thing about them and got the shock of his afterlife. That’s the last time he brought it up. He still checks up on you, makes sure you're alright. Even though he can’t physically be next to you cause Alastor would lose his fucking shit, he makes sure he has people check up on you. 
Vox has killed people who even thought of putting a hit out on you before Alastor ever caught wind about it. He’s not a man to play around with when it comes to you- his little niece/nephew/nibling (gender neutral term for niece/nephew).
During exterminations? Alastor stays with you the whole time. He doesn’t need anything hurting you. He keeps you in his room with books and anything else you want to bring. When you're in the hotel and extermination is around the corner, while the hotel is relatively safe. He still makes sure you stay far away from any doors leading to the outside. 
Oh boy, you are the only one able to sit in his tower with him while he works! He has a chair designated for you and will answer any and all questions about his work (even if they do get silly and repetitive). You’ll fall asleep sometimes when he’s on air and he doesn’t miss a beat wrapping his jacket around you as he continues to talk.
Taglist: @littledolly2345, @aboyscriminalrecord
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bunni-v1 · 9 months
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hii, can I request "First Years Finding Out Your A Girl" with sebek and ortho please?
Ortho and Sebek Find out You’re a Girl?!?!?! (NOT CLICKBAIT!!!)
TW: Swearing (as usual lol); Ortho being creepy; Misogyny mention <3; Reader goes by she/her and is biologically female; Book 6 spoilers (very light, but still there); Bunni hasn't read Book 7 and therefore doesn't know what they're talking about :)
Info: Ortho x Reader; Sebek x Reader; Fem!Reader; Platonic
🍓Hi. If you’ve read the first part of this, I copy pasted the intro. Not because I’m lazy or anything (I’m a little lazy, but I’m a full-time college student who also has a part-time job, so I think I can be excused.) It’s mostly because… It’s a good intro. If people are just discovering this stuff then they can read it, but if you’ve read the first part you can just skip to the good good yk. Anyway, long-ass babble session, but I didn’t include Ortho and Sebek initially because they’re kind of new to the First year group so idk. Felt weird including them. Also, I haven’t read book seven so Sebek I bullshit a lot lol. Anyway, they’re here now, and I absolutely ADORE Ortho, so sorry if my favoritism shows.
First Years
Second Years
Third Years
Dorm Leaders
-Okay so, I know we’re all wondering, how the hell do you get away with hiding your gender for so damn long?
-Firstly, those ceremonial robes do great at hiding the figure. The only tell would maybe be your hair, but feminine men aren’t unwelcome at Nightraven College, so you mostly get a few questioning stares and that’s it.
-Secondly, Crowley wants to save his own fucking ass. He already has to hide from the press that he has a MAGICLESS student from ANOTHER DIMENSION here, he doesn’t need the fact that you are a woman ALSO on his plate. So, obviously, he helps you hide your gender from others.
-Grim knows, of course, and he keeps his mouth shut for a few yummy cans of tuna (and threats of being expelled from Crowley <3)
-Even when you were just a janitor, he couldn’t have the rumor that he put a “helpless” young woman to work. (Like it wouldn’t be expected.)
-So how do you two do it?
-Baggy ass uniform. Crowley gave you at least three sizes too big.
-Your figure is completely hidden. Sure, you look completely homeless, but at least you’re hidden.
-For your voice, you simply deepen it. After some point, you blackmail Crowley into giving you a potion to help with it, since it's so taxing on your voice. (Or maybe your voice is naturally deep!)
-Sam provides you (for an unfairly pretty penny (not too different from your original world…)) any feminine hygiene products you might need.
-Honestly, you’re set for being cared for, but it’s the adjustment period that’s the hardest part. 
-Truly, it’s very jarring to suddenly be thrown into both a magical world and be isolated in a man's world with nowhere to hide.
-At least in your world you had other women who could understand your struggles. Here though? You’re completely alone.
-You notice how… messy some of these guys could be. How some of them smell… really rancid. -How rough they were with you and each other.
-Honestly, it’s kinda eye-opening. The way men show affection to each other is oddly refreshing to watch and experience!
-Ace and Deuce specifically are a good… trial run.
-That’s not what we’re here to talk about though…
-For the most part, it's incredibly easy to hide yourself for the first while on campus. Everyone on campus is so self-absorbed that they don’t bother questioning you.
-Your only real risk factor is Savannaclaw, but it's easy to avoid those guys (minus Jack, of course).
-However, you can only hide your gender for so long… It’s mentally draining to keep up this facade all the time around people you care about.
-So… how do they find out?
Ortho 
-Okay, so Ortho is a little creepy weirdo. He’s a highly advanced robot who likely has autism, and loves his big brother a whole fucking lot. 
-(Side note: Can a robot, child, or thing have autism? Does that mean Idia programmed Ortho to be autistic? How silly of him.)
-It’s my personal head cannon that Idia DECKED this kid out in as much high-tech gear as he could get his hands on. 
-He’s equipped with some of the most complex medical features, therefore he has access to a database of all students at NRC’s medical files. (This is not legal, but he does not care for the law.)
-“But Bunni, what does that have to do with the prefect?” Well, Ortho is ALSO equipped with the latest medical scanner on the market.
-Think like Baymax, yeah? He can scan everyone one time and know every piece of medical knowledge readily available.
-Well, Ortho, the sweet little creep he is, automatically scans the medical information of any new person he sees/meets into his database — just in case it may come in handy.
-So, before he even KNOWS you. Before he speaks a single word to you, he knows you’re biologically a female.
-He scanned you without thinking and just shrugged his shoulders at it.
-You’re not from here, and you got thrown into this, so you being a woman doesn’t really matter too much to you being at NRC. 
-It honestly could’ve been anyone getting stuck here, so why should he question it?
-However, he notices that you are referred to with exclusively “male” pronouns, so he marks in your file that you are trans and moves on. 
-Again, who cares? He’s a magical robot guy based on his brother's dead brother. Who was he to judge?
-When he finally ACTUALLY gets to interact with you after being welcomed into the first-year squad, he’s very respectful of your gender.
-You are a man to him, therefore he refers to you with exclusively masculine pronouns.
-However, everyone in your little group already knows, and they assume that Ortho knows. So when they speak about you, they use feminine pronouns.
-Ortho, sweet as he is, immediately questions everyone as to why they’re misgendering you.
-Protective of the people he cares for at heart, he doesn’t like the idea that your so-called closest friends are misgendering you behind your back.
-Doesn’t believe them completely when they explain, so he goes to you because you’re the only one who knows who you really are.
-“Prefect!”
“Hey, Ortho! What’s up? Miss me?”
“Of course I do, but I have a very important question.”
“Sure, what do ya need?”
“Are you a woman?”
-At this point 90% of your friends know, but there is a handful that doesn’t… and you can’t be having that.
-You, of course, assure Ortho that you are not only a woman, but that your friends are not misgendering you behind your back.
-Relieved, he takes several of your friends off a hit list and removes the trans man label on your medical chart.
-Asks why you hid your gender in the first place.
-Promptly adds Crowley to a hit list (again).
-Ortho, out of EVERYONE at NRC, has absolutely zero behavior changes toward you. 
-He’s equally protective as he was before, he spends the same amount of time with you as usual, he doesn’t suddenly have some weird crush on you, and he’s still trying to set you up with Idia.
-Honestly, everyone should take notes from Ortho. He’s the best at this whole thing.
Sebek
-On the other hand… do not take notes from Sebek! He sucks at this! He sucks really badly!
-Out of all the first years, Sebek is not only the least close to you, but he is also incredibly mean. So you just… feel no obligation to tell him.
-In fact, you kind of… sort of… actively leave him out of the loop for a really long time.
-I mean, it's not an unreasonable thing to do. He is constantly berating you and putting you down for being human. You have no idea how he feels about women and you don’t want to find out first hand.
-In all honesty, he is the only person (other than Azul and the twins) that you’re really scared of finding out, and take extra precautions to ensure he doesn’t find out.
-However, you attend NRC, and nothing ever goes your way at NRC.
-Despite every precaution you take to keep your gender under lock and key, you overlook one thing.
-Malleus Draconia.
-His complete and total lack of social awareness is your downfall here. He finds out, and despite everything telling him to keep his mouth shut… he doesn’t. Because of course, he doesn’t.
-At this point, you’ve gone through most of your misadventures, and most — if not all — of your friends know you’re a girl.
-Hell, even Silver knows now. Everyone BUT Sebek knows.
-And he finds out because Malleus casually mentions it over dinner. Not even directly about your gender, he just uses she/her pronouns.
-Sebek, being Sebek, respectfully asks Malleus if he meant to say he. Malleus, of course, says no without a second thought.
-The shock and horror on Silver and Lilia’s faces was enough to be further confirmation.
-And Sebek’s world shatters.
-He was completely left out of the loop and also has a moral conflict now.
-As much shit, as I gave Sebek (as everyone gives Sebek) he RESPECTS women. His queen is a woman, and his mother is a woman. 
-In his eyes, women are some of the strongest people around. Regardless of if they’re human or not.
-You, on top of being a human from another realm who had successfully quelled several of the strangest students at NRC’s OVERBLOTS and came out on top, was also a woman.
-If that wasn’t strength, he didn’t know what it was.
-However, his bias against humans strongly clashes with his respect for women in this case.
-And it just… messes with his head. 
-He doesn’t treat you worse, in fact, he’s just… really awkward around you now.
-He doesn’t know if he should apologize or berate you for being a human, so he just stays stiff and glares at you.
-It's honestly more scary than him constantly talking down to you.
-However, once the two of you actually befriend one another, he apologizes to you. For everything, and explains where he’s coming from. Why he acted the way he did, how he really feels about you, and all that sweet shit.
-Afterwards, he is genuinely the best at keeping your secret (if he even needs to at this point).
-If there is anyone you can trust to keep his stupid mouth shut at NRC, it's Sebek. 
-His honor and pride force him into silence when it comes to secrets he promises to keep.
-In fact, if anyone is on your trail about it, he’s the first one to jump in the way and scare them off/shut them down.
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nereidprinc3ss · 3 months
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okay i know this is kind of a specific request but can you do something with professor Spence and uni reader where they get into a spat and argue bc she did something stupid and he gets mad and she’s like “noooo pls don’t be mad i hate when you’re mad at me I’m sorry🥺” bc she literally cannot function knowing she let him down (me with everybody) but he’s like super stubborn and goes all closed up and quiet so that he doesn’t like blow up on her until she finally says like “pls talk to me” and he’s all pissed and like “hell na bitch u crazy!🗣️‼️” but then later he’s like “it’s ok i love u but neva do that shit again ho” then they make up and it’s good again 🎀 ok i explained that so poorly (and comedically if i may) but i hope u get it and pls make it SO DRAMATIC bc I live for drama! like she steals test answers or something or does something that could like get her kicked out of school OR him lose his job 🤔 sigh … idk I’m leaving now. Also i LOOPOOOCE ORRKGOOVI love your fics. Luv em
hey girl (gender neutral) this made me laugh bc genuinely sometimes i write spencer so ooc that is what he sounds like. and i'm not sorry! anyway this is potentially a vyvanse fueled nightmare but i wrote it and i'm posting it MY BLOG MY RULES BITCHESSSS!!!! but genuinely read the content warning LMAO this one got a lil kick to it
warnings/tags: ANGST, HURT/COMFORT, fem!reader, spencer and r get into a for real argument like they're mean to each other, spencer is a lil toxic but its resolved, emotionally neglects reader just for a teeensy second but then he's really nice and sweet again, discussion of his past addic+ion, gets fluffy because i'm not EVIL, gets suggestive at the end bc i am secretly evil.......
a/n: i don't know whats happening. this confuses me just as much as it confuses you. its 3 am in the morning. im gonna post nice happy things soon. Gootbye
“I cannot believe you right now. I don’t even—I don’t even know what to say.” 
“Spencer, you don’t have to say anything. It has nothing to do with you, and I’m not looking for your approval.” 
He looks up from where he’d been rubbing his temples, like you’re a headache, eyebrows raised and lips parted in indignant disbelief. 
“Oh! You’re not looking for my approval? Well thank god for that, because if you were one of my students I would recommend expulsion to the board.” 
“Are you fucking kidding me? I just said I don’t care about your opinion on this, much less your hypothetical opinion from some alternate universe where you have any authority over my education whatsoever.” 
“You distributed an answer key to half of your class! Objectively this is the kind of thing that gets people expelled. I don’t understand how someone so smart could do something so fucking stupid.” 
The words bite more than you were prepared for—but what hurts even more is how much he seems to mean them. In arguments past you’d both said things you didn’t mean, and then would immediately melt into I’m so sorry’s and the fight would resolve itself. Spencer’s clenched jaw and inability to make eye contact with you do not lend themselves to tender apologies. They cannot be attributed to miscommunication. 
You take a step closer to where he’s bracing himself against the countertop, arms crossed defensively in front of your chest. 
“Spencer, I’m sorry. I didn’t think it was such a big deal. People cheat in college all the time.” 
Still no reply. His head shakes so minutely you wonder if you’re imagining it. Panic wells in your chest. 
“Please talk to me. I really hate when you ice me out. I’m sorry, okay? Just... please say something.” 
Finally, his eyes slide to you. They lack the fiery anger of moments ago but there’s not much softness there either. His normally warm gaze now feels too abrasive, too cold and sharp on your bare skin. You're exposed, much too soft for that grating look, and it feels like he can see everything that’s wrong with you. 
“Believe me when I tell you this. I am doing us both a favor by not speaking to you right now.” 
And then he’s leaving the kitchen—nothing but a breeze against your cheek and the sound of a door slamming to prove he was ever there. 
The apartment is silent. You stand in the middle of the kitchen, unsure of what to do next. Spencer very, very rarely gets angry at you to the point of neglect, and you know he’s doing his best with what was modelled for him as a child and his tendency to feel things so deeply it’s nearly disabling; but that doesn’t make it hurt much less. It doesn’t make you feel less abandoned or alone.  
You’re sad, and you’re still pissed, and maybe you’re in just a bit of shock as you robotically move back to your nest of blankets on the couch and resume your schoolwork. What else is there to do? Unless Spencer is right—unless you really are about to get expelled after getting the answer key for an upcoming test from a friend, who then gave it to another friend, and so on. But is that really your fault?  
It’s a struggle to stay focused as your mind keeps drifting back to Spencer in the other room, those cruel words and that cold steely look in his eye that isn’t supposed to ever be aimed at you. It’s not a secret that side of him exists, but it doesn’t belong in this apartment. It’s not something he needs to use against you. He’s supposed to be on your side. But instead, he’d said you should be expelled and essentially called you stupid. And now you’re doing homework for a class at a school you may not even be a student of come Monday. 
---------------------------------------------------
The sound of the office door opening forty-five minutes later spikes your blood pressure and simultaneously makes your heart flutter, because no matter how mad at him you might be, Spencer is still Spencer.  
He comes to stand behind the couch quietly, but you don’t acknowledge him. Maybe your typing gets a bit more aggressive, but aside from that you flat out reject his presence. 
“Can we talk?” 
You let him sweat for a minute as you finish your paragraph. 
“I don’t know, Spencer. Can we? Or are you not done with your temper tantrum?” 
“That is... well deserved,” he sighs, rounding the couch and tapping the bottom of your foot, signaling that he wants you to move your legs. You despise how automatically you comply, pulling your knees to your chest to avoid touching him as he sits next to you. There’s a long moment of silence, in which you resume typing. Spencer scoffs, leaning in slightly to peer at your screen. “Are you doing homework right now? I’m a complete asshole to you and you just... do your homework?"
“What the fuck else was I supposed to do?” you almost-yell, slamming your laptop shut and blinking away potential tears. “The only person I wanted to talk to called me stupid and fucking left!” 
The tears realize their potential once you admit the blunt truth. 
Spencer carefully moves your laptop and pulls you into his arms—and you just let him. There’s not much fight left in you. There wasn’t a lot to begin with. 
“I am so sorry, angel. You’re right, I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have yelled, I shouldn’t have said what I said, I shouldn’t have walked away. I overreacted.” 
“Yeah, you really did,” you cry, allowing him to run his hand over your hair. “Why did you do that? Why were you so fucking mean?” 
His voice shakes slightly as he responds, betraying his own anxieties, and a new, unwelcome sense of trepidation slithers through your veins. 
“I was wondering that, too. Even as I was saying it, I knew—I knew it wasn’t what I wanted to be saying. And then I was in the other room and I wanted to be out here, and I couldn’t figure out why I wasn’t. But I think I was just scared. Which—I know, doesn’t really make sense, but... I think about when Ethan dropped out of the academy, and ended up doing heroin in New Orleans for three years, and I think about when I almost left the BAU because I was so convinced I’d never get clean that I didn’t even want to anymore, and—and the idea of you losing your education and your direction like that terrified me, probably unreasonably, and I took it out on you. And I’m sorry.” 
“But I’m not like you or Ethan. You don’t have to worry about that. Even if I... even I do get in some sort of disciplinary trouble. That’s a road you don’t have to worry about me going down, ever.” 
He fixes some unseen wrinkle on your shirt.  
“Yeah, but, remember... I used to not be like me or Ethan either. Do you think twelve-year-old Spencer would have ever even considered that of the infinite realities and universes which exist, he was living in one where someday he’d be shooting up in the bathroom at work?” 
“Mm-mm,” you hum, shaking your head and burying your face in Spencer’s shoulder. The sound is more of a plea for him to be less descriptive than an answer to his rhetorical question. It’s still much easier for him to talk about that part of his life than it is for you to have to actually imagine it. You didn’t know him then, but you’ve seen pictures, and you know Spencer now, and it’s... it’s just too much. Too sad. 
“Okay,” he agrees soothingly, still playing with your hair. “I digress. My point is that literally anything is possible, and while it’s not necessarily likely, I more than anyone know that anxiety even over the most improbable of things is never completely unfounded.”  
You sniffle in response, too emotionally and physically exhausted to contribute much to the conversation by this point. Thankfully, Spencer can talk for two. An idiosyncrasy which you love and comes in handy every once in a while. He can play his own devil’s advocate; in this case, you. 
“But that doesn’t mean I get to take it out on you. Ever. I truly, truly, sincerely apologize for that. I never want to hurt you.” 
You let the apology sink into your skin like a salve, soothing every abrasion those earlier words had left in their violent wake. 
After a few minutes, you find the energy to ask a question that might best remain unanswered. 
“Are you still mad at me?” 
He’s quiet for a beat, seemingly contemplative as his fingers trace abstract patterns in a language all his own on your arm. 
“I’m not thrilled. But you were right earlier. It’s not my place to be mad at you for something like that.” 
“Mm... it’s a little bit your place. You’re an actual professor.” 
He chuckles. 
“At an entirely different university.” 
“Thank god,” you laugh. “You and me at the same school would be such an HR clusterfuck.”
While it’s almost a serious matter, the smile in his voice is evident. 
“Yeah... I, uh... try not to think about it.” 
“Okay, but seriously. In your professional opinion. Am I fucked? Like, do I need to prepare an appeal and character witnesses or whatever?” 
Spencer sighs. 
“It was incredibly reckless and irresponsible. You should be ready for disciplinary pushback from the schoolboard if you get caught. That being said... because over sixty of you got a hold of the answer key, I doubt anyone is getting expelled, and even if they did, it would likely only be the TA and the student he gave the key to. It’s my tentative, professional opinion that you’ll probably be fine.” 
You relax slightly, allowing a tension you didn’t realize was there to shed like an old skin. 
“I’m not gonna cheat again,” you promise on an exhale. It’s simply too much risk for too little reward.
Spencer’s response is quiet, and comes much faster than you’d expected. 
“Oh, I know you aren’t. Because if you do, you’re going to have to worry about disciplinary action from me. And I’m not nearly as nice as the dean of your school, darling girl.” 
But something about the way he says it—a thinly veiled threat/promise contrasted by a sweet kiss to your forehead—doesn’t exactly make academic honesty look all that exciting.
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going to format this like a reddit post because it’s the only way. i (transmasc) don’t know if i’m sexually attracted to the girl (transfem) im having sex with. i’ve known for a while that i’m asexual and fuck for fun, and when i see my friend who i’m fucking, i don’t have any immediate overwhelming desire to have sex with her, unless we’re like, in the moment yknow? like i totally forget that it’s even an option bc i could just sit there and talk to her for hours as my friend bc i love (platonic) her dearly and we have a lot of stuff in common. my only quip is that like, is that sexual attraction ???? being in her bed and having our hands on each other and kinda feeling it then? but not at other times? is sexual attraction constant?? maybe im bisexual and aromantic. or maybe i’m regular bisexual and i just dont like romantic relationships. makenzie why are human minds so goddamn difficult to parse the emotions of? i want to be her friend but im confused by my emotions towards her. how am i consistently having sex with someone im not literally sexually attracted to? and liking it? i mean that kinda has to be sexual attraction right? idk. help girl (gender neutral)
hi anon,
have a seat. drink some water. take a deep breath. we're wildly overthinking this.
what you call yourself - asexual, aro bi, bi but not into romance, whatever - that doesn't actually matter.
here are the things I'm worried about here: are you feeling at all pressured or coerced here? given the choice would you want to stop having sex with this person? do you feel comfortable setting boundaries and saying no when you have sex? you don't need to be overcome with raw sexual yearning for your sexual buddy, but do you enjoy and look forward to having sex with her? is this a positive experience for you?
it's fine to have sex even if you don't walk around thinking about it drooling like a horny cartoon wolf, whether it's because you're asexual or just allosexual without a particularly vigorous sex drive. (the line between those things can be pretty blurry and is pretty up to you to define, by the way.) sex can be fun and feel great; it's fine to want to do that even if you don't have a longing in your loins for it.
think of it this way? I don't particularly like most vegetables, but I like how my body will feel when I eat them, so I make a point of doing that as much as I can. and when I cook them they'll usually come out pretty tasty, and I'll enjoy or at least fell neutral about them. and still doesn't mean I like vegetables, or at least I don't particularly identify as someone who likes vegetables, but I did. eat those vegetables.
the sex is vegetables.
I can't tell you if this is sexual attraction. but also it doesn't matter very much as long as you're being safe and having fun.
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livelaughlovesubs · 17 days
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can you do a public sex w dazai and you get caught? idk how to request sorry if i sound rude
It’s alright dear, no worries. I hope you don’t mind it being on the shorter side :>
Dom!reader x sub!dazai - reader is gender neutral
Warning: getting caught, teasing, stepping, clothed sex, biting, hair pulling
Features: poor kunikida
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“Why don’t you come over to my place?”
That’s what he suggested, all of a sudden, in the middle of the day. Every other person would be slaving away at work, though he seems to have a lot of free time with his job. Wasn’t he a detective of some sorts? It makes sense, that kind of occupation isn’t consistent. Nevertheless, since today was your day off you decided to entertain his spontaneous idea.
You knocked on his door, looking around as you waited. His place… hah, the address he gave you was the armed detective agency though. Isn’t this his work place? The brown haired male ripped the door open with enthusiasm and grinned as he said, “you are finally here! Kept me waiting enough didn’t you?” Within the next few seconds, he pulled you inside and slammed the door shut. Then he pushed you until you sat down on the couch.
“Ugh! The hell’s wrong with you, dazai?” Without having a chance to react, he kneeled down and rubbed his face against your leg. “Haha, you took so long.” You twitched a little at his action, ruffling your hand through his hair to get a good grip, before you yanked on them. “And? Why so impatient? You didn’t mention a time.” Dazai smirked, he looked so scheming and all knowing, it was irritating. “You came at just the right time~ It’s my lunch break.” Suddenly he grabbed your ankle, moving it closer to his face and rubbing it against his cheeks. He didn’t break eye contact with you while doing that.
“What do you think you are doing, osamu?” A stern tone, contradictory to the previous light one. You noticed his bottom lips trembling a little, almost as if he was excited and ecstatic. Slowly, you moved your shoe away from his cheek but instead traced a nonexistent line down his upper body. First tapping his chin slightly, then grazing the tip of your shoe against his torso, from his chest to his pelvis. “You aren’t allowed to touch me without permission, you know that.” Instead of moving lower, you remained at his pelvis, right above the place where he desires your touch the most. “So? I did it anyway, what now?” How cheeky he was, luckily for him you liked it.
Not wasting any time chitchatting, you commented, “Fine, i can already guess what you want from me.” Afterwards you pressed your shoe against his crotch. “You want to do filthy things at your workplace? So naughty of you.” “Mhm, am I the only one though? You did came, after all.” Look at him acting all smart, what a headache he is. “This still doesn’t top you wanting to get caught by your colleagues.” What other reason would he have to do it here.
There was no response, or rather, it was an unexpected kind of response. The brunette only smiled a bit more, the corners of his mouth twitched. He licked his lips, eyes half lidded and bearing so much neediness behind them. It was so pathetic that you found it cute. So as a rewards you stepped onto his bulging dick with more pressure, having his entire body shudder in pleasure. “Ah-mhmm! Oh fuck- haha…” He yelped and wore a dumb smile, one that exposed his lust, if it wasn’t obvious enough.
The more it hurt, the more he loved it, and the more you stepped down, the more his face twisted into a blissful expression. Soon you noticed his pants getting a wet spot beneath your soles, as well as some of that dirty fluid clenching to you. “Why are you so needy today?” You mocked him, watching him shake while you intensify the pressure more and more. “NmMHN-aaAhh… i missed you?” That man said, already spouting nonsense. You smirked back at him, then raised your foot and stomped on him.
“GaAahhHH..!” An ear splitting sound erupted, echoing through the empty halls of the agency. Since no one was there, you didn’t think much about the volume. But as fate has intended, there was someone outside on the floor. You even heard the voice say, “who’s there?” Shit, what now. Should you just act as if nothing happened? Maybe he didn’t hear the screa-
“Didn’t someone scream?” You heard his voice erupt from the other side of the door. “Oh, it’s kunikida.” It seems like your partner knew him. Before you got any chance to talk to dazai about it, kunikida slammed the door open. He was so ready to chase out the intruders or whoever there was, if he didn’t just witness a scene he didn’t wish to see. Heck he didn’t even want to imagine it. “Ughh, dazai?! Go somewhere else next time.” Then that blond haired male just reprimanded his colleague and left without a word. “Haha, he was surprised huh? Well anyway, let’s just continue shall we?” Dazai suggested, but you firmly responded, “no. My mood’s ruined.”
He pouted so sweetly and begged you, but you stayed stubborn. In the end, he promised to make it up to you later, in a different way..?
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here2bbtstrash · 2 years
Text
deep end (explicit)
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genre: pwp / domestic-ass smut hehe 💕
pairing: namjoon x reader (ft. no gendered language! bc lots of people get periods!)
summary: your boyfriend suggests a new way to relieve your period cramps.
word count: 4.2k
contains: explicit sexual content ~*~*~ established relationship, boyfie joon in a hoodie/glasses/with stubble (yes that's a warning), they use the term 'baby' a lot because it's me writing joon duh, some minor implications that menstruation is gross (from reader) (buuuut they get over it lol), 🩸period sex🩸, nipple play, fingering and clit stim, joon has a monster cock bc of course he does, size kink, bulge kink, he's all up in their cervix, reader has a.... cervical orgasm which might just be an a-spot orgasm my googling was inconclusive whatever none of you care - a good mix of fluff and playful bickering, the ending is soft 🫠
A/N: JOON HOES I HAVE RETURNED FOR YOU 🫡 it's been too long, so please take one of my favorite things i've ever written as my very sincere apology. idk this really just flowed out (no pun intended ksdjhgdfsdf) and i had a lot of fun with it, i heart bodies doing body things yknow. shout-out to my period for being extra bad last month and inspiring this.... it's called MANIFESTING amiright besties 💅✨ i hope y'all enjoy!!!! would love to hear your thoughts if you did 🥺💜
and all the love in the world to @haliiimede for betaing and being my emotional support capricorn, where would i be without you my love
read on AO3 !
~*~
The hinges of the bedroom door creak softly as it’s pushed open, and you glance up.
You’re where you’ve been for as long as social responsibilities will allow you to hide from the world and futilely attempt an afternoon nap: curled up on your side, knees pressed tight to your chest, gritting your teeth through each fresh round of stabbing pain. It’s worse than usual this month, for no discernible reason, which is stupid.
Namjoon leans against the doorframe, domestic-cozy-cute in the way that usually makes you want to jump him, glasses and a hoodie. He can’t help but smile sympathetically when he notices your arms are wrapped around an emotional support Koya plushie.
“You okay?”
You wince. “Cramps. I’ll be fine.”
There’s a flutter of mattress springs and bed sheets as he sits down at your side. “Is today the worst of it?” You nod. “Did you take your stuff?”
You smush your cheek against the top of Koya’s head, nuzzling into the soft fabric, tactile comfort. “Yes.”
“Extra-strength?”
“Yes, Joon,” you snap. “I’ve been having periods since I was twelve, I know what I’m doing.”
“Okay, baby.”
You feel guilty as soon as the exasperation-tinged words leave your mouth. “Sorry. I’m being an ass. Just… fucking hurts.”
He tries again. “Heating pad?”
“Worked for a bit, but I got too hot.” Your feet kick frustratedly under the blankets. “I’m ready for winter.”
Namjoon laughs at this. “Does that mean too hot for some company?”
The corners of your pouted mouth just barely start to pull up as you pretend to think it over. “…No.”
“Okay then.” He pushes back the sheets to slide in next to you, removing his glasses and reaching over to deposit them on the nightstand. He smells good, clean laundry and woody cologne. You don’t fight him when he moves to gently pry Koya out of your hands.
“Get out of here,” he murmurs, and you laugh in surprise when he unceremoniously flings the plushie across the room.
“Hey!”
“We don’t need him,” Namjoon says with a smug smile as he adjusts the blankets so he can settle in behind you.
Just the presence of him pressing into your back, big and solid and familiar, makes you start to unwind. His hand slips under your oversized t-shirt to rest on your low belly, fingertips dipping beneath the band of your underwear to gently trace over your skin. The warmth is nice— you feel yourself melt a little under his touch.
“You know what’s good for cramps?” He asks softly. You hum a response, prompting him to continue, and he does. “Orgasms.”
With a sigh, you turn your head to press your face into the pillow. “Vibrator’s dead.”
“Do you want me to plug it in?”
You make a sound that isn’t a clear yes or no, debating internally, then finally answer. “Don’t leave.”
He doesn’t. “What can I do then?”
The answer is immediate, paired with a dry laugh. “You can put me out of my misery.”
Namjoon shakes his head, tuts a little. “Can’t do that. But maybe I can help another way.”
The hand on your stomach slowly starts to slide further up, over your waist and rib cage, coming to cup one of your breasts. He gives it a tentative squeeze. “Sore?”
You shrug. “A little.”
“I’ll be gentle.”
His thumb starts to move, tracing slow, lazy circles over your nipple, coaxing the soft bud to a peak.
You let your eyes flutter closed and allow this sensation to overtake the others, enough to pull an appreciative noise out of you. “Nnh— feels good.” Your voice comes out nearly a whisper.
“Good.”
He wiggles his hips a little in response, and you can’t help but laugh when you feel something firm press against your ass. “How are you hard right now?”
“I don’t understand the question.”
You roll your eyes, but you’re still smiling, and you shift to turn onto your back so you can see him properly. It doesn’t hurt that it also gives him a better angle to play with both of your breasts— a second hand quickly finds its way up your shirt. “Everything turns you on.”
Namjoon shrugs, unbothered. “With you, yeah.”
“But…” You shift your legs vaguely under the sheets, knowing he’ll understand what you mean. “It’s gross.”
“How?”
The feeling of his fingers gently flicking over both of your nipples simultaneously makes your brain lag. “Uh— dirty.”
“Not true.”
Your eyes flutter shut again as you try to keep up with the conversation despite the heat of arousal that’s starting to swell in your gut, and lower. “Okay, messy.”
“All sex is messy,” Namjoon says, like it’s a given.
You huff a noise of frustration, glancing over at him. “Stop being obtuse. It’s different.”
“I’m not,” he insists. “It just sounds like you have some unnecessary shame. It’s a natural thing.”
“Natural,” you deadpan back. “You’re a hippie.”
He smiles. “Maybe.”
The admission is paired with a light pinch to your nipples, and you inhale sharply, biting back a whimper. “A freak.”
His laugh is soft and deep. “Sure. Have you fucked on your period before? I know we haven’t, but— ever?” You shake your head into the pillow. “Might feel good. They say it helps.”
You scoff at this. “Yeah, I bet ‘they’ all have dicks.”
“We don’t have to.”
Namjoon pauses, as if waiting for you to make a decision. You can’t ignore the way his hands on your tits have worked up a steady pulse between your legs.
“…You’ve done it before?” You squeeze your thighs together as you ask the question.
He shrugs. “Yeah.”
“And it wasn’t gross?”
“No, baby. It’s just a—”
“Do not say fluid,” you interrupt with a grimace.
He quirks an eyebrow. “An output.”
“Actually, I think that’s worse.”
A smile blooms on his face, dimples popping, his hands jiggling your breasts. Playful. “It’s free lube.”
You laugh despite yourself. “We’ll mess up the sheets.”
“We’ll put down a towel,” he corrects. “And if we do, I’ll wash them.”
You pause for a moment, considering. “Promise?” There are few things more torturous than the idea of doing laundry on your period.
“Yes, baby,” Namjoon assures you, his gaze roaming over your face. “But I don’t wanna force you. If you feel that bad, let’s just watch a movie.”
You narrow your eyes at him, unable to hide your smile. “Nuh-uh.” You scoot a little closer, rolling in to hitch a leg over him, your socked foot teasing up the back of his calf. “You played with my tits too much. No turning back now.”
The answer makes him cocky, his tongue briefly toying at the corner of his mouth when he smirks. “I’m not scared.” His voice is deeper, darkened by lust, enough to send a shiver through you.
You tilt your jaw up towards his mouth. “Kiss me.”
His lips are soft and warm when they press to yours, and you tip onto your back again, his knees and forearms sinking into the mattress as he follows to cover your body with his.
Your palms slip under his hoodie to slide up over the smooth, defined muscles of his stomach, the broad expanse of his chest. His tongue flutters over your lower lip, and your hands trace back down to the hem, bunching the thick fabric up in your fists.
“Take this off.”
Namjoon smiles against your skin, trailing kisses down your neck, his hands still pawing under your shirt. “Bossy today.”
You tug at his hoodie again for emphasis, earning a pinch to your nipples in response. “You like it.”
“I do.”
“Off.”
He sits up on his knees, untangling himself from under your shirt to strip, and you do the same. You can see the imprint of his dick already straining against the thin fabric of his joggers, and you reach up to slip your fingers under the waistband, running your palm down the length of him over his briefs. There’s a new kind of ache in your core now.
“These too.”
He laughs a little. “Okay, baby. And do you wanna—”
You follow his gaze to stare down at your own sweatpants. “Yeah, let me just. Bathroom.”
Namjoon leans forward, so his mouth ghosts over yours when you sit up. “I’ll get the towels.” He sucks gently on your bottom lip when he kisses you. It’s enough to leave you breathless.
You do your best not to overthink it as you slip into the bathroom and go through the motions. Sweatpants off, underwear too, pad discarded, attempt to clean up a little. You move fast, trying not to leak. The blankets are pushed to the foot of the bed when you return to the bedroom, brown towels laid over the sheets, even a box of tissues on the nightstand.
Namjoon has kicked off his pants and underwear, one hand lazily pumping himself as he turns to face you, muscles in his forearm shifting from the motion.
You lick your lips appreciatively. His cock is flushed dark, hard, already wet at the tip. The thought of him dripping precum just from setting out towels and tissues makes you giggle a little as you climb into bed— a Virgo through and through.
The mattress shifts as he crawls over you, letting go of himself to trace a slow hand up your thigh, over your hip, to finally settle at your waist. “Still okay?”
You nod and pull him down.
He kisses you more fervently this time, and you tilt your head to lick into his mouth, your breath edged with a moan when your tongues pass over each other. You run your hands along his back, nails scratching gently, as his lips move to brush against your jaw, then nibble at your ear.
“How do you want it, baby?” Namjoon’s voice goes straight to your cunt, thick and dripping like honey.
Your mind swims as you try to answer the question, and you instinctively bring your knees to your chest, not unlike the way you were curled up in bed earlier. You pull them apart a little, spreading yourself for him, nowhere to hide. Heat blooms in your face as his eyes trace your body down to your pussy, and he hums softly.
You suck in a breath at the barely-there brush of contact, his slender fingers tracing over your folds. “Is it bad?”
“It’s perfect. It’s you.” You bite down on your lip, not quite willing to believe it’s that simple. “Can I touch you?” You nod again. He groans a little in the back of his throat when he presses in. “Fuckin’ wet.”
“Joon,” you gasp. Your cunt flutters around his finger, tender, as if to suck him further in. He adds a second, sliding easily, and you can feel the way he curls inside to pet long strokes over the ridges of your front wall, made supple from sensitivity. The pleasure sends a shower of sparks through you, and your spine arches. You squeeze your eyes shut as they roll back in your skull.
“This okay?”
You reach up to dig your fingernails into his arms, his biceps flexing under your touch. “’Sgood, baby. More.”
“More fingers?”
You shake your head, eyes flickering open to meet his. “Cock.”
It’s both dirty and domestic, doing it in broad daylight, the bedroom drenched in mid-afternoon sun that pours between the cracked window blinds. No shadows to disguise it, no questioning the color painted over Namjoon’s fingers when he withdraws, dark red.
Your discomfort feels like an afterthought compared to how badly you want him now. He pauses to wipe the excess off on the towel beneath you, free hand guiding the still-slick tip of his cock to brush over your folds, teasing.
You can’t help but whimper. “Baby.”
With a soft grunt, he does it again, more purposefully now— the whole of this thick cock grinding over your slit, both of you smeared messy with arousal and flushed warm from blood-flow.
You press yourself up on your forearms in time to see him wrap his hand around the base and slide it in. He pushes slow, but you’re wet enough that he can slip right to the hilt without resistance, and your jaw goes slack as you watch all of him disappear up inside you.
“Ah, Joon—” you hiss a little as he bottoms all the way out, fucks in until there’s no space left between you.
He stills his hips, eyes flitting up to find yours. “Hurts?”
You shake your head and whine softly. The stretch was easier than normal, actually. “Just, nnh— full.” Letting your head drop back on the pillow, you breathe a laugh. “You’re fucking big.”
He’s nearly wincing. “You’re swollen, baby. Makes it feel like more.”
The pressure of being filled blooms thick, indulgent, a sensation you can feel all the way down to the soles of your feet, every inch of you plugged up with his cock. You lick your lips and try to speak.
“Can you move?”
Namjoon flashes a dimpled smile, suddenly shy. “Hang on.” He scrunches his nose a little, eyes rolling up briefly to fix at a spot on the wall behind you. You can hear the strain in his voice. “Trying not to come.”
Your eyes go wide. “Really? Are you a teenager?!”
He huffs an indignant laugh, face flushing. “It’s like a fucking flood down there! And you’re extra tight… So damn, give me a second.”
Giggling a little, you reach up to loop your arms around his shoulders, fingernails lazily scratching at the nape of his neck, combing through his dark hair that’s gotten so long. He exhales a slow stream of air as he closes his eyes for a moment, then blinks them open again with a smile.
“Okay. You okay?”
You hum. “The pressure is… it’s good. Think it’s helping.” Your cramps have started to subside, or at least you’re not focused on them.
“It’s not too much, all the way in like this?” He circles his hips experimentally, which makes the head of his cock press firmly against your cervix.
“Fuck,” you hiss, and you feel him reflexively start to pull out, paired with a concerned look flashed over his face. You smack a hand to his lower back to stop him, to hold him still.
“Please, Joonie, don’t— it felt good. Just, ah, keep doing that.”
“You squeezed me so hard. Thought I hurt you.” He rolls his hips again and you both groan softly. “Shit, baby, look down.” Namjoon’s voice is slightly hoarse.
You tilt your head up to see an unmistakable bulge in your lower abdomen that shifts as he ruts his hips into you again. You gasp at the rush of pleasure and the visual of his cock so deep inside you.
“You like that?” You swallow hard and nod at his question, whimpering as he brings one hand up to gently press down around his girth. A mixture of pleasure and relief floods through you, and you moan. “Like it when I’m in your stomach, baby?”
Your head drops back against the pillow. “Fuck” is the only answer you can give as he keeps moving his hips.
It takes you by surprise when you feel the brush of his lips over yours, and you tilt up to deepen the kiss instinctively. “So damn sexy,” he murmurs into your mouth. For a minute, you let the rest go, and allow yourself to believe him.
Namjoon falls into a consistent rhythm, cock grinding into your cervix so steadily that it makes it impossible for you to bite back your moans. He keeps one hand splayed over your stomach to meet himself there, and your cunt squeezed in between feels liable to overflow, on the verge of splitting open.
“Nnh, shit, Joon, that feels so good.” It’s like he’s pressing up on your lungs now— you can hardly breathe, dizzy with pleasure. 
Fucking is somehow more intimate this way, taking him as deep as you can go and keeping him there, his shallow flutter-thrusts rocking slow and heavy for your shared sensitivity. Trading lazy kisses and stilted breaths and pretty sounds into each other’s open mouths. The press of his broad hands into your skin and the towel-guarded mattress, the wet squish of your folds on the base of his cock.
“God,” Namjoon groans, breath ghosting over your lips. “This perfect fuckin’ pussy.”
Without warning— or maybe in response— your walls start to pulse, and then the dam of steadily built-up pleasure bursts, a rush so intense that you can only gasp and dig your nails into Namjoon’s shoulders. “Joon, Joon—” You clarify when his brow creases with concern: “Don’t stop, please don’t stop.” You think you might die if he does.
He keeps going, barely-there strokes that rub the thick head of his cock into you over and over, and you cry out as you come fully undone.
A strange new feeling lights you up like a live wire, warmth radiating through your body as contractions squeeze your pussy so tight you swear you see stars when you close your eyes.
Namjoon curses under his breath, your whole body shaking beneath him as he works this surprise orgasm all the way out of you, until your thighs reflexively pull together and he stills his motions again.
“Oh my god,” you murmur, turning your head to press your cheek into the pillow. You slowly start to come down through the aftershocks, a lingering buzz glittering in your fingertips from the weight of his cock still crammed up inside you.
Namjoon’s large hands pet up the backs of your thighs, trailing soft heat. “You good, baby? That was crazy.”
“I-I just—” You exhale in an attempt to catch your breath, and it turns into a laugh as your eyes flicker open. “I didn’t know I could come from that. Fuck.”
He cracks a smile. “Sensitive. How’s it feel?” He leans forward to seek a kiss and you return it, nuzzling along the line of his jaw once you break apart. His stubble drags against your cheek, not unpleasant, and you shiver a little.
“I don’t know, I just had a crazy fucking… cervix orgasm,” you tease. “I’d say it’s pretty good.”
“Just don’t want it to hurt.”
“It doesn’t,” you murmur into his mouth. “So fuck me?”
You both moan when Namjoon begins to properly move, thrusting slow and deep-deep, your pussy clinging tight to him on the upstroke. You’re wet enough to gush when he fucks back in— just the sound of it makes your head spin. Your clit aches, so worked up untouched that it’s starting to throb.
“Baby,” you whine. “Touch me. Wanna come again. Please.”
He hums a soft noise of surprise, eyebrows raising, hips worked up to a steady rhythm now. “Already?” His lips press to yours again, and a sly smile spreads across them as he pulls back. “Needy.”
You huff a laugh, leaning up for another kiss, insatiable. “I said please.”
Namjoon earns a whimper out of you this time when his tongue swipes into your mouth, and he’s a little breathless when he breaks away. “I like you needy. I’ll keep you in this bed all day, if that’s what you want.”
“I—nnh—” you lose the thread of mid-sex conversation entirely as he shifts to free one hand and bring the pad of his thumb to your clit, flicking down firmly at a pace to match his strokes. “Fuck, Joon.”
Your hands grasp at the pillow beneath your head, fingers sinking in to grip desperate. He’s pounding heavy into your g-spot now, your legs spread wide and back arched up to take it.
It’s so good, it’s overwhelming, warm glow all the way through you. Arousal drips from your cunt to make the squelch of his strokes even messier. His hips are unrelenting, and your thighs start to shake from the pleasure, amplified with every pass of his thumb over your clit.
“Just—” You can barely speak, have to gasp for air after the first word, “—just like that.”
“Baby,” Namjoon’s voice comes out hoarse, in the way it does when he’s close, too. The bed creaks from the weight of his strokes. “So damn tight, so soft, can you feel it?”
A whine and a nod are all you can manage. You can feel him everywhere, down to the details, the fat veins that run the length of his cock molded to your walls, pulsing velvet heat. Your cunt melts lush around him, wet and raw as he fucks you apart. He rubs you in time to bring you over the edge again, and you’re helpless to it, can only let out a strangled sob of a noise as you tense up and come hard.
Namjoon’s thumb keeps circling, hips keep rocking, working you through it and groaning low in his throat for the way your cunt clenches up around him. Your nails dig into the pillow as you shudder and gasp.
“That’s it, shit, baby. Tight little pussy, gonna make me come too, fuck.”
With a grunt of effort, he pulls out, one hand reaching down to stroke his cock as he comes, thick ropes of his release painting your stomach in milky gloss. Your cunt pulses around nothing, hot pleasure aftermath, twitching sensitive.
Fucked to oblivion, you collapse against the mattress, feeling spent and heavy-all-over. Your head is still spinning, enough that you’re only distantly aware of the way Namjoon’s ragged breathing softens at the edges and starts to dissolve into gentle laughter.
Your eyes blink open to see him leaning over you, reaching for the tissues on the nightstand.
“Good thing I grabbed these,” he remarks as he lifts up his red-stained palm.
You can’t help but gasp at the sight. “Oh my god, Joon.”
The corner of his mouth pulls up enough for a dimple to wink back at you as he goes through a couple tissues to clean himself up. “Relax, baby. It really doesn’t bother me.” He pulls a few more loose from the box to deal with the mess on your stomach. “Just wanna point out that you don’t mind when I come on you.”
You huff. Smart-ass. “It’s different.”
“Is it?” He challenges. “It’s just bodies being bodies. Byproducts of the human condition.”
You can’t quite hide your smile. “You’re a poet.”
“Maybe.” His clean hand smacks playfully against your thigh, jiggling the soft skin there. “Shower time.”
The whine that escapes you sounds pathetic, even to you. Movement of any kind feels impossible. “I won’t make it.”
“Come on.” You yelp and grab to wrap the towel beneath you over your waist as Namjoon scoops you up in an effortless bridal carry and heads for the bathroom. He turns the shower on with his foot as you cling to him for dear life, but he somehow manages not to drop you.
When he deposits you onto still-shaky legs, you let the towel drop to the bathroom floor. The water is scalding when you step into the shower, the way you both like it. Crowding you under the spray, he reaches for the washcloth and squirts a liberal amount of body wash into the fabric, infusing the steam with eucalyptus and mint. It feels like you can breathe a little deeper.
One large hand comes to your hip under the water as he works up a lather. “Turn around.”
You can feel the staining at the crux of your thighs, dry and sticky, as you shift unsurely in place. “Nnh,” you pout. “Can I rinse first?”
“Nope. Tryna take care of you, so let me.”
Scrunching your nose for dramatic effect, you turn for him. When the washcloth passes over your skin, his touch is so gentle, so immediately overwhelming, that emotion bubbles up before you can stop it. There’s nothing you can do to hide the way your shoulders start to shake as tears spill down your face.
It takes a second, and then you feel his motions slowly come to a stop. “Baby?”
You shake your head, embarrassed, bringing your arm up to wipe at your nose. “‘m fine. Emotional. Ignore me.”
“I can’t do that.” He rights himself, and the fingertips of his free hand trace the line of your jaw, encouraging your gaze to meet his. “Talk to me, please.”
Another fat droplet slides down your cheek, and his thumb catches it. You inhale, trying to catch your breath, and your chest shudders. “It just. Feels like too much, sometimes. Like I don’t deserve it.” You gesture broadly. “Everything, you. I don’t know.”
Namjoon frowns a little as he momentarily drapes the washcloth over the edge of the tub. “C’mon, don’t think like that.”
When he pulls you in, you allow yourself to sink into the embrace, tears flowing freely as his strong arms press you close. You know he’ll let you ride it out, the same way you do with him.
His lips brush over your hairline. “You’re good to me, wanna be good back,” he explains, voice low. “That’s all.”
Your cheek rubs against the hard plane of his chest as you nod.
“You’re so good to me, Joon. Too good.”
“Nah.” You don’t even have to look up to know he’s smiling— you can hear it in his voice. “You’re easy to love.”
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stevenose · 4 months
Text
idk. gang idk. wanna eat this guy’s ass nahimsayin
contains: gender unspecified reader/no gendered language; free use reader; conflicted steve; mentions of steve trauma :( he head hurt; foot massage MILD MILD I PROMISE; oral (steve receiving); rimming (steve receiving); some humiliation going on; ‘whore’ is used both ways hashtag equality; facial (reader receiving)
Steve’s had the worst day of his life. Well, that’s not true - not even close. He has to remind himself of that, as if he forgot, even though the headache currently clouding his brain is a consequence of too many concussions. Actually, thinking about his bad luck just pisses him off more. He almost breaks the key to Family Video while he’s closing up, ripping it from the door so harsh it hurts his hand.
He slams the car door, too. Which makes his head pound. He’s so goddamn tired. And if he has to tell one more teenager they can’t rent porn, he’s going to drive his car into the building. He gets it - really, he does. He used to steal VHS tapes from his friend’s parents and watch it in his basement when he was underage. But now he’s 21 and too old for this shit.
Speaking of porn - blowing off steam sounds great. He sighs as he turns the engine of his car over and leans back. He just has to get home. And maybe he’ll get lucky and you’ll be there and you can do that thing you both talked about.
It’s really out of character for him. He’s ready to admit it. Actually, he’s not just admitting it. He proclaims it, over and over - I’m not that kind of guy. But you showed him some real interesting porn and told him about the term “free use” and now he can’t stop fisting his cock to the idea of you choking on it. It’s sore, already straining in his jeans as he traverses Hawkins pothole-riddled roads.
Free use. He can imagine coming home and fucking you over a table, or pushing you to your knees, sure - but actually doing it is entirely different. He doesn’t know how to be mean. He didn’t even know how to be mean when he was an asshole. It makes him nervous, palms clammy against his steering wheel. He does know how to be confident, however, and he tries to lean into that assertiveness as he parks his car and strides towards the door.
Steve’s irritated he even has to unlock it, but you’re right there, sitting at the kitchen island reading the back of a cereal box. Pajamas on, ready for bed. It makes him feel bad about asking and he pushes any thought of getting his dick near you out of his sore brain. But you perk up when you see him, equally eager and shy, tucking into yourself.
“Hi, Steve.”
“Hi.” He stares at you. Stupid.
“You okay?”
Steve takes a deep breath. “I had a bad day.”
You nod, drumming your fingers against your forearm. “Want me to do something about it?” you ask lowly.
Steve nods slowly. He’s still standing halfway through the door like a doofus.
“Shut the door, handsome.”
He blinks, zoning back in to reality. The door swings shut behind him and you make your way over to him, approaching cautiously. Like he’s infected with something. Perhaps just a sour mood.
“Anything you want,” you remind quietly.
He nods again, licks his lips. “Come here,” he says, walking towards the living room. Then he stops and looks back at you. “Please?”
Steve’s so grateful that you’re patient with him. You don’t poke fun or chastise him. You just nod, letting him lead the way as he settles on the couch. He’s also grateful that you take the lead at first, settling on your knees in front of him. Your little fingers move towards his Nikes and you unlace them, pulling his shoes off. He groans low when your hands move to massage his socked foot.
He can’t believe how gross you are. A pretty thing like you shouldn’t be into shit like this. Neither should he. He reminds himself he really isn’t into this kind of thing, he’s just into you. But he’s painfully hard in his Levis while he watches you below him.
“Do you want to talk about what happened?”
Steve shakes his head quickly. “No. But you’re sweet.”
You smile. “I know. How’s your head?”
He sighs. “Sore.”
“I’ll get you some advil in a sec,” you promise, moving from one foot to the other.
“Thank you,” he says, sinking into the couch. “You’re so good to me.”
“Yeah?” you goad. Your hands crawl up his thighs and you stare up at him eagerly. “I’d do anything you ask. Anything.”
Steve sucks in a measured breath, lost in your warm eyes for a moment. He leans forward and takes your jaw gently, but firmly, between his fingers. He can’t believe how much your eyes light up. “You can get me some medicine and suck my cock til I’m feeling better.” And then, again, he adds, “Please.”
You hop up, heading towards the kitchen while he stands to strip. It almost takes effort to get his jeans down past his erection, and his cock leaks precum on his stomach once it’s freed. He rolls his eyes at himself, so worked up over nothing yet. He sits back on the couch as you re-enter, bottle and water in hand.
“Come here,” he says again, patting his thigh, and you do as you’re told. You really are so good for him, so eager to please. He takes the items from you, downs 800 milligrams, then turns his attention back to you. Steve wracks his brain for something to say, but your fingers reach out for his scalp. You massage his head and he moans, his hands finding your hips while his eyes drift shut.
“Did you think about me today?”
“I did,” you answer. “Nearly every second.”
His eyes open, half-lidded. “Tell me what you thought about.”
You bite your lip for a moment. “I thought about your, um - well….”
He surprises himself when he swats your ass. He soothes it immediately, about to apologize, but your reaction gives him pause. Your hips grind on his thigh and your pupils go blown, teeth digging in to your plush bottom lip. Your fingers keep working his scalp, soothing the ache, helping him come back to life a little bit.
“Can I just show you instead?”
Steve hums. “Only if you show me how you touched yourself while you do it.”
He hears your breath hitch in your throat. You nod, then cup his cheeks. “Are you okay?”
The tenderness makes him melt. You make him feel like he’ll be alright. Like he doesn’t have a dead end job, like everyone isn’t moving on without him. “I’m great,” he answers, finally smiling. “Got a pretty thing like you on my lap, getting waited on, taken care of….”
“I’ll take care of you,” you coo, sliding off of his lap and back onto your knees before him.
The two of you haven’t fooled around very much. Steve loves watching your reaction to his cock - it gives him the biggest ego boost. He knows it’s pretty. Long and thick, pretty pink tip, a few beauty marks marking the shaft. It curves a little bit upwards, easy to find your sweet spot. He watches you stare at it now, eyes wide, breath fanning over it.
“Please hurry,” he has to say, a little bit impatient.
“I’m sorry,” you say softly. Your hand reaches out for his shaft and you slowly pump your hand up and down it. Steve sighs and lets his head rest against the back of the couch. “It’s just so beautiful, Steve.”
Your touch spurs him on. “Beautiful, huh? You like it that much?”
“Mhm.” You lick your lips. “It’s so big, and - and soft….”
You press gentle kisses along the underside of it. Steve curses under his breath. His head falls forward so he can watch you now as you kiss every inch of it. You nuzzle your nose against the shaft, thumb swiping across the head, your tongue giving him kitten licks.
“There you go,” he groans. “Show me how much you love it.”
Your kisses become open mouthed and messy, your tongue getting him a little bit more wet. You kiss up towards the head and swirl your tongue around it, lapping up the precum pooling in his slit. Steve groans again, gripping your hair, and with a gruff “open up,” he slides his cock between your lips.
Your mouth is his salvation. Wet, warm, tight. Steve gasps and moans, hips immediately bucking upwards. You gag and he shudders, hand fisting your hair harder, tangling his thick fingers in it. “It’s okay, g-gag on it, make a - make a mess.”
You moan and angle your head to take a bit more of him, beckoning him to take what he needs. Your eyes are so pretty looking up at him, glassy, teary. It makes Steve frenzied. He bucks his hips into your mouth, reveling in the perverted noises you both make together.
“This what you wanted?” he growls. “Be my personal s-stress - stress toy?”
You moan and nod.
“Touch yourself.”
Your hand makes its way inside your pajama bottoms. You gag as you attempt to moan, throat constricting around Steve’s thick cock. He knows it has to hurt and he scratches your scalp in an attempt to soothe you. His balls tighten as your eyes roll back. He can see your fingers moving in the thin cotton of your sleep shorts and his stomach flips violently.
Steve fucks his hips against your face for a while, sensitive balls slapping against your chin. It’s so goddamn gross and he can’t fucking stop. His toes curl, breaths ragged and shallow, groans and praises falling from his lips. He pushes his cock into your throat as far as it can go, feeling it tense and constrict.
“Take it,” he grits. “Holy fucking shit goddamn you feel so good holy fuck oh my god -“
And when he finally pulls out, giving you a moment to breathe, you don’t pull back. Instead, you duck downwards, kissing and sucking gently at his balls.
“Oh my god,” he gasps, half in pleasure and half in scandal. “Feel - feel how much cum I’ve got for you?”
“Steve,” you moan. Music to his fucking ears.
“Love any part of me you can get, huh?” His blunt fingernails scratch your scalp some more, soothing.
And then you go lower.
Steve sort of short circuits. Now your tongue is on his taint and that is quite honestly not where a tongue should go. He wonders if you even know that’s where you are, and he tries pulling you upwards again. Voice hoarse while he’s saying, “Baby, that’s - oh, that’s - not -“
Your hands find his hips. You pull him towards the edge. And your tongue is really, really where it isn’t supposed to be now.
But Steve couldn’t stop you if he wanted to. It’s like he’s been electrocuted. Your tongue flicks against his hole, innocent, sweet. You even press a cute little kiss to his rim.
“Oh my god!” he wails, throwing his head back. He spreads his legs wider for you. His voice is gorgeous, all scandal, a deep tenor. “You dirty little whore.”
His own reaction shocks himself again, but you moan at that. He can even see your arm moving while you continue to touch yourself. All while your tongue licks broad stripes against his sensitive rim - and who knew he was so sensitive there? His stomach flips and tightens, cock pouring.
“Stroke me off,” he commands, though it’s more of a plea. Your hand finds his cock again and you pump him, tapering your tongue against his hole. Then you lick back to his balls, kissing each of them, before taking his cock in your throat again.
“What the fuck,” he groans, his entire stream of consciousness finding its way past his lips. “This what you got off t-to? Eating me ou- out?”
You pull back, a glint in your eye while you moan. “You’re about to get off to it, too.”
Which Steve can’t argue with. His balls are starting to draw up again and he doesn’t know how he’d like to cum. Down your throat? Or in your hair while you kiss his ass? He wishes he could have both.
His hand grips your hair again and he fucks your face with abandon. You moan non-stop around his length, gagging, drool finding its way down his cock to his balls and beyond. He plants his feet to fuck you like he knows you want, groaning through gritted teeth.
“You gonna cum? Gonna cum from being used?” he grits. “Go on, g-get off, you dirty - little -“
You go a little slack when you do. Eyes all crossed, drool falling down your chin. Steve can’t fucking stand it. He pulls you off of him and jerks himself off in front of you, his face red with effort while you gasp for air.
“Give me your filthy tongue,” he orders.
You stick your tongue out, a blissful, gorgeous expression on your face that Steve is quickly addicted to.
“Gonna cum - gonna cum a-all over your slutty face, just like you wanted - fuck!”
His eyes want to close but he forces them open to watch thick ropes defile your face. His chest heaves with exertion, low groans rumbling from his chest, head still pounding from how much effort it takes. But the headache’s the last thing on his mind. He’s all focused on you, looking like a porn star in front of him, all ditzy and happy.
“Up,” he pants, grabbing onto you. He pulls you onto his lap and he doesn’t care if you have his cum on your face. He’s already hardening again, could really use another scalp massage while his cock finds its way inside of your hole. “One more, can you do that for me? So goddamn hot I gotta go again.”
“Whore,” you snark weakly, hands finding his head, letting him sit you down on his cock.
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bully⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
friday, kim taerae— select choir
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⋆˙⟡ zbully1 smut series masterlist! hanbin, jiwoong, hao, matthew, and taerae included. game day (group) chapter here. all 7 endings here.
⋆˙⟡ wc: 2.7k
⋆˙⟡ reader: just one gn!reader version for this (no pronouns are used at all to describe reader; reader is describe as having a "pretty" mouth but no gendered or femme language)
⋆˙⟡ series summary: five bullies. six days. it's gonna be a hell of a week, babe. stay hydrated.
⋆˙⟡ friday summary: it's the end of the most bizarre week of your life. last year, you would've been overjoyed to spend time in select choir with your friend kim taerae. but that all went down the drain after hanbin recruited him into his group of incessant jerks... and he's desperate to officially be one of the guys.
⋆˙⟡ warnings: explicit smut. 18+. minors do not interact. please read specific smut warnings under the cut! swearing. angst. slight dub-con. bullying. the lore for taerae is so SAD. i'll make sure his ending is happy, i promise. also we've got a ft. hanbin chapter but just in digital form.
⋆˙⟡ bully scale: ★★★★★ (5.0)
(idk the bully scale is subjective but like imagine your best friend saying this shit about you WHY IS HE DOING THAT OMG jk i know why and soon you will too)
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EXPLICIT SMUT 18+ WARNINGS: oral, (taerae receiving), throat fucking (reader receiving), brief handjob and heavy petting (taerae receiving), cumming without warning in mouth, filming of sexual act, voyeur!hanbin, slight dubcon but like for both of them kind of idk you'll see but it's slight, bullying, the usual.
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friday.
you should be elated that this week is nearly over. and you are. mostly, anyway. 
but there was an indescribable thrill to all this that you couldn’t seem to shake. all that talk of ravens yesterday had got you thinking...
 why did you dislike ravens in the first place?
thinking. crying. haphazardly finishing all of your assignments due friday that you’d procrastinated the whole week. urgent texts to and from mina after her ✨jiwoong oppa✨ stood her up for their date.
one thing was for certain: you desperately need sleep.
that’s why you’re currently falling asleep sitting up, hard-back music folder open in your hands as professor yoo works with the bass section. the lowest notes of “requiem” are soft and soothing and, for you at this sleep-deprived moment, very dangerous. 
luckily a sharp elbow to the shoulder jolts the drowsiness right out of you.
you look to your left to find kim taerae giving you one of the most judgmental glares you’ve ever earned in your life.
you would expect nothing less from him.
at one time a judgmental glare from taerae was the equivalent of a hug. you returned the gesture happily. and also threw in some hugs whenever he’d let you. he squirmed a bit, but the big smile that would grow on his face made it all worth it.
but there’s no warmth behind his eyes now. just a sharp elbow pointed at you, threatening to strike again if you didn’t shape up quick enough.
“you’re gonna get yourself in trouble,” he warns with a frown.
you roll your eyes. “why do you care?”
“because, unfortunately, some people still think we’re friends,” he says, making thin lines with his pencil on a page of his sheet music. “and i don’t want to suffer the social consequences of your embarrassing actions.”
“mm,” you agree wordlessly. “guess i should’ve thought of that myself.”
he doesn’t respond for a few moments, eyes focused on his sheet music until an audible sigh comes from his direction. “why are you so tired anyway? s’not like you.”
“for all you know, it could be,” you retort with a huff. “maybe i’m a real night owl now. maybe i’m out partying or smoking or... something.”
taerae snorts. “jiwoong hyung was not lying about those tragic acting skills.”
“oh, fuck off,” you reply.
his eyes widen. and then promptly squint with suspicion. “since when did you swear like that?”
you frown, trying to discern what he could mean. hadn’t you always been this uninhibited with your tongue? 
the answer was no. you hadn’t. and this new speech pattern of yours had a very specific origin: monday afternoon. you exhale a chuckle. maybe you had yet to realize the full extent of how this week has changed you.
and how your desire to change back continues to dwindle.
you just shrug, returning your focus to your music. you feel taerae’s eyes on you as you track your vocal section’s part in “requiem”.
you and taerae had purposefully chosen seats next to each other in choir last year so that you could goof off together during every possible free moment. it was also convenient for your parents, who always wanted to get pictures of you two together during concerts ever since high school.
now you wish you went to different universities altogether.
ironically, you might’ve had a better chance of remaining friends if you’d had distance. but you and taerae disagreed quite adamantly at the time.
halfway through your two-hour rehearsal, you’re allowed a fifteen minute break to grab water and stretch your legs. you always wander off down the empty storage hallway, where your favorite vending machine is hidden in plain sight— the one with the oreos and cheez-its and bugles in it. 
pulling out your debit card, you insert the chip into the machine and punch in the number for the snack of your choosing. you watch happily as it falls down from it’s spiral prison into the dispenser below. you start to bend down when a hand reaches in before you and grabs your snack.
“hey, what the—…” you trail off as you come face to face with a cavernous dimple. “give it back. now.”
“you’re so touchy today,” taerae condemns with a click of his tongue. he holds your snack high above his head, dangling it in a challenge. “seriously, what’s gotten into you this week?”
“oh, you know exactly what,” you huff, reaching for the snack in vain.
taerae laughs. “i guess a better question would be: what hasn’t gotten into you this week?”
“you’re so fucking funny,” you snap, fingers finally closing around the wrapper as you yank it down. 
taerae’s brow is raised in surprise, not really caring about the repossession of the snack. “seriously, i’m not used to you swearing like that. i’m not sure if i like it.”
“i assumed there was nothing you liked about me anymore,” you retort, tearing open your snack and shoveling the processed glory down your throat.
“that’s not true,” he replies, hand suddenly reaching to your face. he brushes his thumb across your bottom lip, a crumb transferring from you to him. he brings his thumb to his own lips and tastes it. “i still like your pretty mouth.”
when you finally manage to pick your jaw up off the ground, you shake your head. “i know you don’t think of me like that.”
“uh...” taerae mumbles awkwardly, glancing at the row of shelves behind you. “sure, i do.”
“oh yeah? how about mina’s pool party two years ago? when we—.”
“OH, actually you—,” he interjects urgently, glaring at you to shut up. normally you would. but after this week, you no longer feel bound to quiet compliance. “you don’t need to—.”
“—were playing spin the bottle and it landed on me and you threw up in the pool because you were so disgusted by the mere thought of kissing me—”
his lips crash onto yours, hand cupping your cheek. it’s a demanding, yet tentative kiss and you’re even more confused when it ends.
you take a step backward, folding your arms across your chest. 
“can you just—...” taerae grabs your arm and pulls you closer to him, glancing again at the row of shelves behind you. “yes, that’s perfect.”
“what’s perfect?” you ask with a frown, starting to grow immune to strange behavior after the week you’ve had.
“oh, um.... you,” taerae answers after a moment with a smirk. “you were always so perfect, (y/n). perfect grades. perfect manners. perfect body. i used to jump at the chance to sleep over when your mom would let me. you used to beg her until she finally said yes, because she knew you'd never misbehave. remember, honey?"
eyes wide at the dark shift in his tone, you nod slowly.
“you were so innocent... you slept shirtless, for fuck's sake. peacefully dreaming, while i pretended to be asleep on the floor,” he continues, brushing his thumb across your cheek. “hoping i wouldn't wake you up if i just lifted the covers to get a peek."
when you thought the worst of your pain this week was over…
“tae,” you breathe, eyes watering— pleading for this not to be true. it couldn’t be. at least... not in the vulgar way he was describing it. "you don't mean that."
at the sound of your despair, there's a momentary flash in his eyes. regret. you still know him like the back of your hand.
“why are you doing this?” you ask, hands flying to cup either side of his face. he flinches, trying his best not to look you in the eye again. trying not to let you see. “you don’t have to be my friend anymore if you really don’t want to. but i don’t know why you want to be like them when you’re miles better than they’ll ever—.”
“alright, that’s enough.”
the muffled, tinny voice comes out of nowhere. you look around your immediate surroundings, trying to discern where it came from.
“c’mon, you were doing so well,” the voice rings again. “you said you had this under control, bud. was i wrong to put my trust in you?”
“no, hyung,” taerae answers, shaking his head. “i—… i can do it.”
“hanbinnie?” you ask and then cough awkwardly to cover up the fact you just called your arch nemesis so affectionately. yesterday must’ve gotten to you more than you know. “i mean, hanbin-ah! what the actual hell is going on?”
“no need to worry about it, sweetheart,” hanbin’s voice dismisses again. taerae’s eyes dart towards the shelves behind you once more. you follow his gaze— jaw dropping when you see two camera lenses staring back at you. 
“what—...” you fumble, shaking your head in disbelief as you look at the back of taerae’s phone— propped up with a black music folder. “you’re recording this!?”
“afraid so,” hanbin answers for taerae. “i didn’t really think he could follow through without some supervision. don’t mind me though. unless you just can’t help yourself...”
while at the beginning of this week a situation as perverted and bizarre as this would’ve had your whole nervous system shutting down, you’re still standing tall. present in this strange moment. you smirk.
“aw, tae,” you coo mockingly, turning to your former friend. “how sentimental of you...”
a brow arches in confusion back at you. “what are you––?”
“of course you’d wanna capture such a special moment on camera,” you continue with a patronizing nod. “it’s not every day that you lose your virginity.”
“HEY THAT’S—…” taerae starts to yell at you for sharing this embarrassing personal detail that you’re sure he never disclosed to hanbin. “that’s�� that’s not true.”
“oh come on, it’s nothing to be ashamed of,” you twist the metaphorical knife as hanbin stifles a laugh. “i’d be happy to help you out with that, since i was the one who had to listen to you whine for four years about how you were still. a. fucking—”
two fingers are down your throat in an instant. you gag, trying to step backwards, but taerae’s hand finds the back of your head— holding you in place. he removes his fingers slowly, pupils dilating when you whimper in fear.
“i’ve decided i don’t like the swearing,” he says, a sickening hint of sweetness in his tone. any upperhand you had is now gone as he traces your lips with his thumb. “such a pretty mouth. those filthy words shouldn’t be coming out of it.”
“y-you don’t get to decide that,” you stammer unconvincingly.
“so that’s what you really want, then?” he asks, sticking his thumb further into your mouth. you suck obediently. “you wanna have a filthy mouth?”
you nod, his thumb still pressed against your tongue— cheeks hollowed out as taerae bites his lip hungrily.
“then you can have it,” he says before removing his thumb from your mouth and pressing down on your neck and shoulder— forcing you to your knees in front of him. you guess joining the soccer team had really improved his strength. “just remember it’s what you said you wanted.”
taerae unbuttons his jeans, pulling the zipper down. he freezes, clearly unsure of what to do next. maybe this is your opportunity to wiggle your way out of this. if only your curiosity wasn’t equally as strong.
“we––... i have to audition after this,” you protest weakly. “when break’s over, i have to audition for the solo i’ve been prepping for so i want to keep my voice warm right now and—.”
“ah, that’s right. i did forget about that,” he affirms, looking up at the ceiling in thought before smirking back down at you. “but i think i can help keep it pretty warm, actually.”
your attempt to level with taerae only seems to encourage him as he pulls down his jeans and boxer-briefs. you inhale sharply as his hard cock comes to eye-level, so close you can really examine it. though it’s slightly smaller than hanbin’s, it’s thicker and you need to know immediately how it feels in your hand.
“whoah, you—,” taerae stumbles, eyes wide as you take him eagerly in your hand. he stares at you, lips parted as you start to pump him. “holy shit.”
“you’re sure you wanna do this?” you ask, pausing your motion to make eye contact with him. you can tell he doesn’t want you to stop, but there’s conflict lingering there that he just can’t seem to hide.
taerae clears his throat, shaking his head as he resumes his tough guy act. eyes cold once more, he shrugs. “a hole’s a hole.”
after a year of judgmental berating from your former best friend, it was almost comforting to know that he was capable of being even meaner than he already was. it meant that, for whatever reason, he usually didn’t want to be any meaner to you.
he takes both of your hands in one of his, keeping you from using them as his other hand finds the back of your neck again— guiding your face towards his cock. taerae doesn’t need to give much guidance though. you’re aching to get a taste and the way your lips sink down around him nearly knocks the wind out of him.
back pressed against the side of the vending machine, his thumb presses into your cheek— feeling himself inside of your pretty mouth. you swirl your tongue around his tip, causing him to moan softly.
there’s a little bit of rustling coming from where taerae’s phone is propped up on the shelf. you wonder if hanbin’s enjoying this. if he’s touching himself— wishing he was throat deep in you instead.
“c’mon, bud. is (y/n) running this show or are you?” hanbin asks, tone laden with frustration.
“i—... i am,” taerae asserts, grip tightening across the back of your neck. 
he starts to thrust gently into your mouth, an action that you’re not so familiar with. it rattles you a bit— loss of control after feeling like you were gaining it back.
“this is what you asked for, baby,” he reminds you, shallow thrusts starting to venture a bit deeper. “remember? you said you wanted a filthy mouth. so i’m gonna make a mess of it.”
you find the right rhythm to breathe through the thrusts. the tip of his cock is dangerously close to entering your throat, sending another wave of anxiety through you. but it’s not for long. 
your eyes meet taerae’s and, though he’s the one putting you in that danger, you suddenly feel very safe. you let out a sigh, the vibration causing him to mewl. he scratches at your neck affectionately, putting pressure against it to feel himself inside you as he fucks your throat.
“see, keeping that throat nice and warm,” taerae coos as his breathing gets heavier— and his moaning gets louder. “take me so well, i—.”
“shut the fuck up, dude,” hanbin scolds, his own breath growing labored. “do you wanna get caught before you can win the—?”
before hanbin can finish his thought, you feel a warm, sticky liquid begin to pour down your throat. you pull off of taerae, sputtering and coughing as you try to swallow it down. wiping your mouth, you look up at taerae who is looking at you like he wants to dive straight into the han river and never return.
“for fucks sake, are you actually a virgin or something?” hanbin asks angrily. “is that really all you can last for? and, jesus, you’ve gotta warn someone before you do that.”
your throat is starting to burn and you’d love to be able to say something, anything, but the rasp that comes out isn’t pleasant-feeling. you rub at your throat with your now-free hands as taerae’s expression just turns more horrified.
“did i... did i hurt you? fuck, i didn’t mean to—,” taerae starts to babble uselessly until hanbin claps loudly.
“good work, team!” he says as he finishes his round of applause. “mvp definitely goes to me, for coming up with this idea in the first place. i’ll see the campus activities secretary at the big game tomorrow, right?”
“mm,” is all you can croak out. you wish it sounded angrier.
“and i’ll see you at practice tonight, man. i—,” hanbin cuts himself off with a confused look. “wait, where did he go?”
you face forward, expecting to see taerae standing next to the vending machine but... hanbin’s right. he’s vanished.
“that kid’s a piece of work,” hanbin says, shaking his head. “you think he’d be more grateful after i took him under my wing and made him popular. i even got him a spot on the soccer team after a lot of private coaching. i mean, he’s benched for life, but still!”
you’re a saint among men, is what you wish you could say. instead, you just roll your eyes.
“just take his phone and give it back to him in class, will you?” hanbin asks as you stand up and make your way toward the shelves. “and drink some hot tea for that throat, okay? throw some honey in it and you’ll be good as new for tomorrow, i promise.”
you sigh. and you nod. and you pick up taerae’s phone and end the video call. 
and you go back to choir and sit in your black music chair and wait for taerae to come back, but he doesn’t. and when it’s time to audition for the solo you’ve been preparing for, you stay seated and quiet. 
seated and quiet.
like you’ve been for so long.
and when practice ends and the choir room is empty and you remain seated and quiet in your black music chair and tears begin to well up in your eyes, you don’t cry.
you smile.
you stand up.
you shout (briefly, so as not to disturb anyone in neighboring classrooms).
at some point or another, you forgot how to do these things. or you were made to feel like you couldn’t or shouldn’t. 
but that’s who you really are.
who you were always meant to be.
not a juliet. not a violin. not a goalie. not a bird. not a pretty mouth.
you.
you pick up your bag off the floor (and taerae’s) and throw them both over your shoulder, making a beeline toward the door.
absolutely, hanbinnie, you think. you’ll see me at the big game.
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