#anyway in tired of my small fucking life and my same small fucking problems and my own fucking self

[iloveyouitisruiningmylife]

you know it's bad when you hit the 30 tag limit

#like shut up i wasn't done #i feel so unbearably hurt and betrayed like how can i be SO. unimportant to him so less of a priority that he's literally organising his #desk instead of talking to me taking five mins to talk to an agent book a ticket in tatkal #i told him i had to be back by 20 even before coming here on like 5th #and ive been reminding hin this everyday since after diwali #still he just. doesn't care? #and im his daughter? am i his daughter? does it even mean anything????? #ive never felt more alienated from my family than today #isn't it sad i don't even expect anything from mom all she does is tries to lighten the mood by making jokes #im so sick of her even the sight of her her voice makes me want to shout at her #i don't do it ofc but still #everyone is so selfish she's so selfish too she's always complaining about how i don't love her how i don't give her a chance #but that she'll stay away from all important thinhs that actually matter to me like what's the point of having a mother then??? i have my #siblings to listen to me i have my friends you i need u to be an adult and fucking help me in real terms #nvmind that path is just hopeless #anyway in tired of my small fucking life and my same small fucking problems and my own fucking self #everything would be okay if i just studied a little bit harder #idk ive been practicing saying it out loud that i can't study more than tui and after seven times i can say it out loud now #without crying or my voice watering #so hopefully it will go well #tho in my experience i never actually get to sya the stuff i practice to say to him because he dominates the convo so early so fast im #left speechless and shocked and on the verge of tears AGAUN #it's fine im calm now #but after crying headache ugh i did not miss u at all going back to storing all breakdowns in a bottle

[skrunksthatwunk]

playing dmc1 with my earbuds in (but on low volume bc they're being weird) while my roommate and her shitty bf argue. i feel like i'm recreating the very specific experience of some child of divorce out there

#how do i tell her she needs to break up with him immediately. posthaste.fuck it funny post over rant incoming tw emotional abuse i think #nyarla dni #(<- roomie and nyarla have met and i don't wanna air roomie's drama to ppl who know her w/o her consent. anon internet ppl only) #listen i'm normally for gentle advising and that's probably what i'll do since i don't want to stress her out but oh my fucking god what is #his problem. he's constantly putting her in these weird no-win situations where the only right answer is to never be upset or disagree or b #wrong on accident or be misunderstood by him and to tell him everything she's feeling so she's not 'playing mind games' but if she says wha #she's feeling he'll interrogate her and badger her with the same questions over and over again insisting she's unreasonable until she gives #in and says she's sorry with an attitude he likes. i fucking don't like him. and a lot of this is observations from today. the day after sh #GOT INTO A CAR ACCIDENT AND BROKE HER NECK. WHAT THE FUCK. #it's like he expects to be treated like a king on one of the worst days of her life and when she's upset he's like OH. OH I GET IT. #and lectures her on having attitude and taking things out on others when she's literally not even doing that. not to an extent that matters #anyway. like. there's more productive ways of dealing with that. where you don't treat them like a bad kid for getting overwhelmed #he has made her cry multiple times today. i have been around multiple arguments and fights and he's just genuinely. awful i hate him #hell the first argument i overheard *i* was in tears by the end (luckily they left soon after bc i had to run to the basement laundry #dungeon to bawl my eyes out because 1. i can't handle confrontation 2. i've never seen roomie cry and 3. she just seemed so hurt and tired) #anyway he just left again after a fight because. god this is so dumb. she told him to move while they were sleeping in the same twin bed #(remember she's in a neck brace) and he fucking. left the room for an HOUR bc he thought the only thing that could POSSIBLY mean (as he #insisted) was for him to get out of here and then when she was like oh hey i'm sorry i didn't mean it like that he decided to spend the nex #half hour of his short time on this earth chewing her out for not giving him a lengthy explanation while half-asleep as to like. why he #needed to move (she wanted to grab smth) and apparently he sat in the chair by her bed for like 10 mins before leaving so he probably saw #her fall back asleep. and then he got pissy when after he left she didn't pick up her phone when he was calling her? even though he knew sh #was asleep?? she didn't even know he was gone. fucking. i need to get him away from my roomie YESTERDAY #look. miscommunication happens. i'm not saying he's an asshole for wanting things said clearly. i am pro-saying what you mean. #but if every time your gf tells you what she means you make it into a 30 minute lecture (no matter how small the slight and w/o examining i #you're actually right or not) she's not gonna wanna fucking tell you if she doesn't think it's worth the argument. especially if you never #let her rest until she concedes. apology isn't enough. clarification isn't enough. she has to say how wrong she was and beg and GOD. UGHHH #and he's always on about how she hurts his feelings. a gust of wind could hurt his feelings. he's constantly berating her manipulating her #and then he's like >:( see that hurt my feelings you can't hurt ppl's feelings. you're disrespectful. HE"S THE WORST I FUCKING HATE HIM #look sometimes adversity reveals the truth of a person and this just amplified his shittiness so much. mr OH i slept in a HOSPITAL and it #was so bad... you can't be in a bad mood bc i've been doing the bare minimum and you need to prioritize MY feelings rn. also i won't leave

[minisugakoobies]

Yours for the Night | HHJ

Pairing: Hyunjin x Reader Genre: smut, porn with the barest of plot, frenemies to lovers, Model!AU Rating: M (18+) Warnings: so. much. cockiness from Hyunjin, arguing as a form of foreplay, a bit of dumbification, what's a little fucking between frenemies?, dick pics, exhibitionism, nipple play, mentions of slut shaming, grinding, fingerfucking, pinching, just a tiny bit of spit, unexpected use of pet names, oral sex (f receiving), wet and messy, biting, dirty talk, maybe a little degradation (talking about reader being cock stupid), unprotected sex (bc used), riding/cowgirl style, praise/use of "good girl," soft dom!hyunjin vibes, rough/hard sex, multiple positions, creampie, multiple orgasms Word Count: 8.8k Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own SKZ - they just inspire me Summary: “Let me lay it out for you, so there’s no misunderstanding. If you can stop pretending for five seconds that you don’t want me the way I want you, you can have me tonight.” Or, Hyunjin makes you an offer you simply can't refuse.

A/N: I finished this earlier than expected, thanks to the inspiration that is Hyunjin at Milan Fashion Week. Have you seen him?? 🥵 Anyway, it's all because of his stunning beauty that this filthy lil pwp exists. Enjoy! 😘

Unbeta'd as usual. I would *love* to hear your thoughts - my inbox is always open (anon is on, but hateful comments will be blocked. Be kind, writers do this for free and with love!) 💕

SKZ Masterlist

 It’s Friday night, you’re out for drinks with your friends, and you are frustrated.

It’s not the club that’s bothering you. You’re here tonight at Felix’s request. He’d told you all it had been too long since you’d gone out as a group, so all nine of you and your friends crammed yourselves into a couple of rides and headed for downtown. 

Nor is it the incredibly tight, short, and backless dress you’ve poured yourself into that’s annoying you, though it’s certainly not helping. Your fingers anxiously grasp at the hem, tugging it down your thighs as you take a seat at the table where Felix and Seungmin are currently talking.

No, it’s something personal that has you wound tighter than a corset tonight. Work has been kicking your ass lately, and it’s put a huge damper on your sex life. You haven’t been out with anyone new in the last few months. Haven’t had any time to reach out to any of your small group of casual hookups who would typically lend a hand. Most nights you’ve even been too tired to masturbate. 

Put simply, you’re ready to fucking pop. 

Which is why you’re wearing this bodybinding dress and staring at the dance floor like a wildcat stalking its prey, searching to find someone to help you with your problem. Unfortunately, you’ve been here for hours, and no one’s caught your eye so far. 

Your clutch rattles on the table, drawing your attention. Everyone who would usually text you is here, so out of curiosity, you take out your phone. The notification tells you that Hyunjin sent you a photo. 

You glance across the room at where Hyunjin is sitting in a booth with Changbin, deep in conversation. Why would he send you a photo right now?

Your confusion only grows when you look at the photo. It’s a selfie, Hyunjin raising his champagne glass in a toast to the camera, perfectly tousled dark hair spilling over his brow as he fixes you with his signature smirk. It’s a gorgeous shot, of course, because he’s a gorgeous man, but again, why is he sending you selfies in the middle of tonight’s celebration? Or at all? Hyunjin’s never been the type to send you photos before, of himself or the group or anything. 

He’s never really been the type to text you, period, outside of the group chat. Probably because the two of you aren’t really friends. Frenemies would be more accurate. You share the same group of friends, but have nothing else in common. Which is fine, you don’t have to be close to hang out, but he’s… well… he’s an acquired taste, and you’ve never developed an appreciation. Hyunjin’s snooty and cocky - overly so, in your opinion, even if he is the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. Most of your conversations consist of nothing but arguing. He’s very stubborn and loves to get the last word in on everything. Which drives you crazy because you prefer to have the final say. 

So to say this sudden selfie has you perplexed is an understatement.

Ignoring whatever Felix and Seungmin are talking about, you fire off a question. 

You: What is this? Hyunjin: Are you that drunk? It’s me

Reflexively, you scowl at your screen.

You: I know it’s you You: But WHY are you sending me a photo of yourself? Hyunjin: You’ve been staring at me all night Hyunjin: I thought maybe you’d like something to take home, to keep

Again, you look over, only to find him looking at you, lips curled to match his photo. Heat flames through you. Could he be more conceited? 

Maybe the vanity isn’t totally unearned, considering that he’s an actual model, making a living using his ethereal beauty to sell products. His own lifestyle is just as luxurious as the images he appears in. Like right now, he’s wearing the finest black suit, obviously couture, with a few silver necklaces draped over his tie that you’ve no doubt cost more than your entire outfit alone. 

And sure, he has a jawline carved by the gods, thick eyebrows that frame expressive, cat-like eyes, and ridiculously pouty lips that you’ve found yourself staring at once… an hour on average. Maybe in your weakest moments you’ve even dreamt about what it would be like to kiss those lips. 

But does that mean he has to be a dick all the time?

You: You’re such an ass Hyunjin: Deny it all you want, but we both know you can’t keep your eyes off me Hyunjin: Not that I blame you You: It’s amazing your head still fits through doors Hyunjin: You’d be the first to notice if it didn’t

Your nostrils flare. No matter what you say, he always flips it back on you. Admittedly, you are a little tipsy, so you’re not fully on your game, but it’s still annoying as fuck. And right now, you really don’t need another reason to be frustrated.

You: Whatever, Hyunjinnie

You cast another glance at Hyunjin, delighting in the way he frowns at your response. He hates it when you call him that.

You take a moment to locate the rest of your friends. Changbin’s still sitting with Hyunjin. Jeongin and Chan are doing shots at the bar. Minho and Jisung are in their own little world on the dance floor, arms draped around one another. Neither Felix nor Seungmin seemed to have noticed that you have dropped out of their discussion. Part of you feels guilty for ignoring them, but, well, you’re a little fired up now, and the only thing that would make you feel better would be getting the last word in with Hyunjin for once.

You take a sip of your cocktail, floating the cold liquid on your tongue as you devise your next line of attack, when your phone buzzes again. 

Hyunjin: I have another photo for you You: Why? Hyunjin: Because I think you’d like it You: Oh really? Like you know what I like Hyunjin: Always so argumentative Hyunjin: You’re pretty easy to figure out Hyunjin: The staring makes it incredibly obvious

Such an ass.

You: Fuck off Hyunjin: I will not You: What’s your game, man? Hyunjin: No game Hyunjin: Can’t I just do something nice for you?

The man is a riddle. An enigma draped in Versace. 

You type out “I guess there’s a first time for everything” and press send, putting your phone down long enough to watch him get the text. Hyunjin laughs to himself, smiling down at his screen, and there’s this weird feeling of satisfaction in your stomach at the sight. Whatever, you like making people laugh, even assholes like him. So what.

You tell yourself that you’re not going to wait at his beck and call, jumping to read his texts as they come in, if in fact he keeps sending them, but then your phone vibrates again and you snap it up immediately, because you’re a liar.

Hyunjin: Just trust me Hyunjin: You want this Hyunjin: But I want something first You: Oh here we go You: There’s the catch A hand waves over your phone. “Hi, hello, are we boring you?” 

Quickly, you turn it over before Seungmin can see your text thread. “No, sorry, I was just, uh - “

“Hey, leave her be,” your savior Felix says, pushing Seungmin lightly. “She’s had a rough couple of weeks. She shouldn’t have to suffer through your boring work stories, too.”

“Hey!” 

Seungmin and Felix dissolve into arguing as you covertly flip your phone back over. 

Hyunjin: I’m not asking much Hyunjin: Just a photo of you. A photo for a photo

He can’t be serious.

You: I’m not sending you a nude Hyunjin: Did I say nude? No, I did not Hyunjin: A normal selfie, that’s all

Again your suspicion rises. What is he playing at? Where is this going? 

You: But WHY? Hyunjin: Maybe I can’t stop staring, either

Your breath catches in your throat. When you look up, he’s gazing at you again, but his expression is less smug than usual and more… ravenous. 

You turn away so fast, your neck cracks. 

Hyunjin: So? Send me a pic.

There’s no reason for you to agree to this. Absolutely no reason at all. Beyond, of course, your burning curiosity. 

It’s really going to get you in trouble one day.

Grabbing your clutch, you slip off your chair. “Ladies room,” you announce, glancing at Felix and Seungmin, who aren’t listening anyway, still squabbling. You wander just far enough out of sight of your friends, find a spot with good lighting back near the bar (because even if it’s just for Hyunjin, your vanity will not let you take an unflattering photo), and snap a quick picture, firing it off right away. 

As you’re sliding back into your seat, your phone vibrates. Hyunjin sent another photo. 

You swallow reflexively. Holy shit. It’s a shot of his crotch, dress pants straining to contain what is clearly a massive cock, gripped through the fabric by long fingers.

Hwang Hyunjin sent you a dick pic. 

So it’s not big dick energy, it’s just big dick, is the first coherent thought you have once the screeching inside your head stops. It occurs to you that you’ve been gawking unblinkingly at your phone for at least several minutes, so you raise your head to make sure your friends aren’t watching you, and thankfully they’re not. Really, you should know better than to underestimate just how much Felix and Seungmin love to bicker.

But what are you supposed to say to Hyunjin now? Your thumbs hover, waiting for inspiration, but you’re stuck. 

Hyunjin: Wow, are you speechless? Hyunjin: Guess there really is a first time for everything

Even without looking, you know he’s smirking at you from across the room. Suddenly, you need another drink, so you mumble “bar” in Felix’s direction and stumble away. As the bartender mixes you another cocktail, you grip your phone tightly, waging an inner war with yourself. 

You should look at the photo again. You shouldn’t look at the photo again. You should delete it, and Hyunjin’s number, and maybe throw the phone in the nearest trash bin too, just for extra comfort. But holy fuck, do you want to look at the photo again!

What you really don’t want is to think about the effect that photo has had on your pussy, because it’s humiliating how much she’s throbbing right now. 

“I’ll take one of those as well, thanks.” A hand waves towards the bartender, and your treacherous brain immediately recognizes those fingers as the fingers from Hyunjin’s photo, and starts picturing what those lithe digits would look like wrapped around your throat. Great. Now your brain has joined your pussy. Traitors. 

You say nothing as Hyunjin takes the seat next to you. Partly because you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’s gotten under your skin again, albeit in a very different way, but also partly because you’re still not sure what to say. 

“You know,” Hyunjin bends towards you, close enough for his warm breath to tickle your ear, “if I’d known that all it would take to get you to stop arguing with me was showing you my cock, I would’ve introduced you much sooner.” 

“God, you are just - just the worst,” you snarl, teeth clenched hard enough to give you a headache. 

“Now really, is that any way to speak to someone who just gave you a gift?” Hyunjin sips his drink calmly. 

Well, there’s the Hyunjin you recognize. What you don’t understand is how he’s still making your cunt drip with need. All you can think about right now is what he’s hiding under those suit pants. Are you really this dumbstruck by cock? 

(Yes. Yes, you are.)

“Me and every other woman in this club, I bet. You probably air dropped it to the whole room.” You wouldn’t put it past him. Maybe that was his plan the whole time - work you up then leave you begging while he hooked up with someone else. As if you’d beg. 

“Oh no, that was just for you.” 

“Uh-huh, sure.” 

With a roll of his eyes, Hyunjin clicks his tongue. “Come on. You know how selective I am when it comes to my clothes or my liquor. Why would I be any less selective about who I fuck?” 

“Who you fuck?” Whoa, who said anything about fucking? Besides your duplicitous brain and pussy. “Who - who said - that’s not - I mean -” You’ve suddenly become the Big Bad Wolf, huffing and puffing, unable to form a complete sentence. 

Hyunjin rises, leaning over you as you gaze up at him from your barstool. He places his hands on the bar, one arm on either side of you, bracketing you in, wild eyes trailing down your figure slowly before he smiles, hungry and sharp, and you realize, no, here’s the wolf. 

“Listen, there’s no reason we can’t fuck. Friends fuck all the time.” His hand glides over your shoulder, light as a feather, and you watch dazedly as goosebumps ripple along your skin. His touch is electric. 

“Is that what we are? Friends?” 

Hyunjin shrugs, lips twisted in a droll smile. “Close enough. This doesn’t have to be complicated. You said it yourself - you’re in need.”

“What? When did - I never said that!” Again you struggle to speak coherently, sputtering in your confusion.

Hyunjin frowns. “Ah, you’re right, I misspoke. That was Felix who said that, wasn’t it? On the ride here?” 

You curse inwardly, remembering the private discussion you and Felix had had on the way to the club, when you were discussing your dry spell. Or at least, it was supposed to be private, but obviously someone had been listening in. Felix had offered to play wingman for you, saying he wouldn’t let anything keep him from helping you “in your time of need” - a bit dramatic, but that was Felix for you. 

You’d waved him off, insisting that you could snag someone without any help. But here you are, drowning your sorrows at the bar with no possibilities in sight. Maybe you should’ve accepted Felix’s help after all. 

“That’s not…” Sighing, you shrug. There was no point in trying to deny what he’d heard. “Fine, yeah, I came here tonight hoping to leave with someone, but I didn’t mean you!” 

“That’s because you didn’t know I was an option.” Again his gaze travels down your body, lingering like a slow caress. “But after seeing the way you look tonight, I had to offer myself up.” 

Always. So. Cocky. You want to deny that his words have an effect on you. Want to. But can’t.

And like that, your resolve starts to slip. 

“You really want to help me out?” you ask. He nods, irises blown as his eyes flicker to yours, and it puts fire in your belly, has you biting your lip in contemplation. “What makes you think you have what I need?”  

Hyunjin doesn’t bother to check if any of your friends are watching as he steps closer, like he doesn’t care if anyone sees the way he cups your cheek. Or how he slides his thumb over your lips, dragging the bottom one down before lowering his mouth towards yours. He hangs there, just for a second - just long enough for you to tip your face up in a wordless answer.

His touch has nothing on his kiss. Your whole body thrums from head to toe, fizzing like the champagne on your tongue earlier, sweet and effervescent. His hand falls to your hip, squeezes there suddenly, and you feel a rush of heat between your thighs. 

Hyunjin’s plush lips part, letting the tip of his tongue briefly nudge against yours before he pulls away, leaving you blinking dumbly. He lets out a low chuckle, gently wiping a drop of spit from your chin. 

“I just know.”

You’re too busy licking the inside of your lips, hunting for any lingering trace of him, to respond.  

“Let me lay it out for you, so there’s no misunderstanding. If you can stop pretending for five seconds that you don’t want me the way I want you, you can have me tonight.” His eyes dip to your mouth and back, and you find yourself holding your breath, waiting for him to make a move again. Needing him to. “Just think about it.” 

And then he walks away, leaving you nearly toppling off your seat, floundering in his wake. 

The ice cubes in your cocktail have all but melted by the time you remember you ordered another drink. Sipping it slowly, you replay the last several minutes in your head. Did all of that just happen? Did Hyunjin really just offer himself to you? And then kiss you like that?

You feel like you’re going out of your mind. 

“Just think about it.” 

Hyunjin’s last words echo in your head as you wander on wobbly legs back towards the table where Felix and Seungmin are still standing. 

And oh, god, do you think about it. 

For the rest of the night, no matter how many conversations you have with your other friends, no matter how hard you dance, no matter what you do - the sole thought occupying your brain is what it would be like to fuck Hyunjin. Again and again, you picture him above you, beneath you, behind you, big cock stretching you out, making you scream his name. 

But it’s not worth it to give in to him. It can’t be. Good dick - if it’s good - can’t be enough to undo all the annoying shit he does, can it?

You cut yourself off early in the night, explaining that someone needs to stay sober enough to call for rides, but really you’re afraid that if you get completely blitzed, you’ll end up admitting something you don’t want to admit and going home with Hyunjin. Your friends honor your noble sacrifice by achieving impressive levels of drunk, ranging from delightful (Felix repeatedly booping you on the nose, calling you his “widdle buddy”) to disastrous (Chan, who gets upset when the guy he hits on in the bathroom doesn’t respond - turns out he was hitting on his own reflection - before falling asleep in a stall). 

Since the club is in the middle of downtown, you arrange for two cars to pick you and your friends up - one heading east, one heading west. Changbin, Chan, Hyunjin, and you pile into the ride heading west. Changbin hops into the passenger’s seat before you can slip in, leaving you smushed in the back between Hyunjin and Chan’s gigantic thighs. 

Said thighs are splayed a bit as Chan’s head lolls back, a loud snore erupting out of him as the car makes its first stop outside Changbin’s apartment. 

“Can’t take him anywhere,” Changbin grunts, snapping a rather unflattering photo of Chan sleeping with his mouth wide open, obviously saving it to drop in the group chat at the most opportune time. “Can you two make sure he gets home okay? I know it’s a bit out of the way, but, well, look at him.” 

Chan continues to rumble like a fighter jet, unaware of everything going on around him. 

“Yeah, don’t worry, we got him,” Hyunjin replies, and you just nod. “Night, ‘Bin.” 

Changbin gives the driver Chan’s address and then he ducks out of the cab. Your place is technically the next closest, but getting Chan back to his place safe and sound is the priority. 

With Chan sleeping next to you, it’s basically just you and Hyunjin alone now. A fact that has also occurred to Hyunjin, whose hand has been drifting further and further around your waist the entire ride. Now it slides around openly, tucking you against his side. You could fight it if you so desired - he’s not holding you tightly. He’s giving you the chance to escape. 

You’re not sure you want to.

“Have you thought about it?” he murmurs, nose against your ear. 

Your body reacts to the tone of his voice, thighs rubbing together, as you nod. 

“And what did you decide?” 

“I - I don’t know.” 

A puff of air tickles your skin as he laughs derisively. “Do you really need some convincing?” 

Chan snuffles loudly, reminding you that there’s another person right next to you, since your entire focus is on Hyunjin, and the way his hand is now creeping beneath the open back of your dress, and slowly moving up your rib cage. 

When he cups your left breast, you stifle a gasp. But you can’t stop the tiny “ah!” that escapes when he gently pinches your nipple. You attempt to cover it with a cough, hoping the driver’s lack of visible response means he didn’t hear you. Meanwhile, next to you, Chan doesn’t stir. 

“Feel good?” Hyunjin coos quietly. “Must’ve felt good, given the way you’re squirming right now.” 

Your hips have started to rock of their own volition. Brain, hips, pussy, all on your shit list. 

“But just think how much better it’ll feel when it’s my mouth.” His tongue flicks the shell of your ear before he sucks your earlobe into his warm mouth. A preview of what’s to come. It makes you squirm even harder, dying for any sort of relief for the aching between your legs. 

Remarkably, you manage to speak, hissing, “You’re a demon.” 

Hyunjin laughs. “You’ve no idea.” 

His hand stays where it is until the car pulls up at the curb outside Chan’s house. It takes a minute for the two of you to wake Chan, then another minute for him to realize where he is, then yet another minute for him to slide out of the car. Hyunjin sighs and also climbs out of the cab to make sure Chan gets into his house safely. 

When Hyunjin returns, the driver glances in the rearview mirror. “So, one more stop, or two?” 

You blink at the question. The air in the cab feels heavy with implication. Hyunjin says nothing, but looks at you expectantly, and you understand - the choice is yours.

You glance at your hands, as if they’ll help you choose. Your watch informs you that it’s 2:12 in the morning. Don’t they always say not to trust any decisions you make after two am?

When the driver clears his throat a little too loudly, Hyunjin’s fingers grip your chin. 

“Well? You heard him - one stop or two?” 

You meet his gaze, surprised to find a fire burning in his eyes. 

Maybe you’d be a fool to run towards it, seeking warmth where there might only be danger. 

Fine, then. You’re a fool. 

“One.” 

With a satisfied grin, Hyunjin gives the driver his address.

You’re a little tense during the elevator ride up to Hyunjin’s apartment. Hyunjin, on the other hand, looks completely relaxed, quietly leaning against the wall with his normal blasé expression on his face. Like you’re not about to cross a boundary here that you never expected to cross. Like this was inevitable. 

As soon as you’re both inside and his door is locked, he turns to face you, and you suck in a deep breath, waiting impatiently for him to touch you again. 

Instead, he asks, “Do you want some water?” 

“Um, yeah, sure.” 

He must read confusion on your face - at least, you hope it looks like confusion and not disappointment - because the corner of his mouth lifts in a small smile. 

“A few questions first,” he says, walking into his kitchen, sliding his suit jacket off as he goes. “Are you in good health?”

“Am I - am I in good health?”

Hyunjin tuts. “I’d ask if you need me to repeat myself but clearly you heard the question.” 

You stare at his back, brows furrowing as you decipher his meaning. “Are you asking if I’ve been tested recently? Yes, I have been. Nothing to report.” 

“Good, me too,” he replies, yanking his tie off and tossing it onto the counter before opening the fridge and grabbing you both a bottle of water. He eyes you as he opens his. “Are you on birth control?”

“Is this what you’re like on a date? Does your foreplay always involve interrogating your partner with clinical questions?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He tilts his head back as he drinks, so he doesn’t catch the glare you shoot his way. “Answer the question.” 

“Yes, dick, I’m on birth control.” You take a swig of your water. The memory of his touch in the taxi is fading more and more with every second that passes. With a clearer head, you’re starting to question if you’ve made the right choice. 

“Good,” he repeats, wiping his mouth. “I prefer to fuck raw.” 

You clench around nothing at the thought, but scowl anyway. “What about what I prefer?” 

Hyunjin just hums, fingers brushing your cheek before they tap under your chin. “Do you want me to use a condom?” There’s no drollness or sarcasm to his tone. He’s genuinely asking. 

“No.” Your pride takes a tiny hit at the way you answer him immediately, without hesitation.

Just as quickly as his gentle tone came, it disappears again, vanishing as Hyunjin flashes a smug smile. “That’s what I thought.”

“That’s what - oh fuck off.” There he is again, that cocky asshole. Reflexively, you curse at him, ready to fight. “Fuck you, you don’t know anything about me.”

“How many times do I need to tell you that I do? You’re so easy to read.” 

“Really?” Okay then. You’ll call his bluff. “Go ahead, Hyunjinnie. Tell me what I like.” 

He rolls his eyes. His fingers make quick work of his cufflinks, setting them on the granite top beside him, and he slides his sleeves up, revealing toned forearms beneath. 

“Well, for starters, you love getting under my skin with that infantile nickname.” 

“No shit. Everyone knows that.” 

“You live for arguing, especially with me. Can’t let a single sentence go by without snapping back.” 

“Maybe that’s because you’re always wrong.”

Hyunjin doesn’t take the bait, merely leans back against the counter, examining you so openly that you feel exposed, so you cross your arms, as if that will help you block his penetrating gaze. He takes a few seconds before speaking again. 

“No, it’s not that. Though I’m sure that’s what you tell yourself. If it were, you wouldn’t be here right now.” 

He speaks so calmly, so self-assuredly. It’s maddening, even though you’re burning with curiosity. Makes you want to know more, so you press him again. “Okay, then - what is it? Why am I here?” 

“Because you wanted someone to take control.” He spreads his arms wide. “And here I am.” 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” 

“You know. You want someone else to be in charge. Make the decisions. Do the work for you. Then fuck you so hard that all those thoughts just fly right out of that pretty little head of yours.” He says it all so matter-of-factly, like it’s completely evident, your deepest desires laid bare for all to witness.

You want to dismiss his words, act like he’s so far off the mark that he’s on another planet, but you’re too surprised by his answer to respond with anything other than stunned silence. His arrogant smile returns. Clearly he was expecting you to fight, so your lack of a snappy comeback only confirms to him that he’s right. 

“Just look at what you’re wearing,” he continues. “That tight dress screams ‘please fuck me stupid!’ Lucky for you, that’s exactly what I intend to do.”

You find your voice. “Oh, now you’re judging my clothing? And - and slut shaming me?” 

“Please. I’m always judging your clothing. But it’s a taste thing, not some sort of moral judgment.” He smirks. “And I’m very supportive of sluts, thank you.” 

As he sips his water, you replay the entire evening in your mind. Sending you the photos. Kissing you. Making the offer. Fuck. He really did do the work for you tonight. Was there ever a chance you were going to say no? Judging by Hyunjin’s attitude, this moment was never in doubt. He knew you’d end up here with him.  

The other realization that dawns on you is - you’re not mad about any of that. The only thing you’re mad about is that, once again, he’s right about something. And he knows it. 

Okay. Fine. You want to be fucked stupid. But does he have to be so fucking rude about it??

“Maybe this was a bad idea.”

He suddenly steps towards you. His expression is so intense that you move without thinking, backing all the way into the fridge. Your heart feels like it might burst through your ribcage at the slightest provocation, breath leaving your lungs in tiny exhalations as his thumb ghosts your cheek. 

Not because you’re scared. Because you’re excited.

“Tell me you don’t want to kiss me.”

Hyunjin says the words softly, but there’s a firmness to his gaze that makes you swallow hard.

Your lips don’t move. 

He kisses you. Wraps his hands around your waist, pulls you to his demanding mouth, head turning this way and that as his lips crash onto yours.

You kiss him back. Just as greedily, just as deeply. 

His hand strokes your thigh. “Tell me you don’t want me to touch you.”

You make no noise.

His fingers crawl beneath your skirt, dancing over the silk of your underwear. Your gasp warms his tongue. A throaty growl chokes him.

“So wet for me.” He brings his hand up to show you the evidence, skin glistening. As if you didn’t already know.

He surges forward, pinning you to the fridge, mouth blazing a trail from your ear to your neck as his fingers press into your soaking slit.

“Ah, Hyunjin!” you whimper, clutching wildly at his bicep. The swell of his arm bulges as his fingers slowly search your inner walls, like they’re mapping every inch of you. When they trace over your g-spot, they linger, brushing again and again. “Oh my god!”

“Tell me,” he implores, husky voice breaking, like he’s barely in control, “tell me to stop and I will. Tell me you don’t want this - don’t want me - and I’ll call you a ride and we’ll never talk about this again.” 

His forehead bumps yours, eyes smoldering with bright intensity, hand still plunging.

This time, you speak, chest heaving as you gasp for air.

“Don’t - don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”

A smile spreads across Hyunjin’s face. He pulls you closer, wrapping an arm around your waist, the other hand still working between your thighs. You moan, feeling his erection digging into your hip as he presses himself against you, holding you firmly in place while he adds a third finger to the two already fucking you open. 

“Say it,” he commands, mouth wet and hot on your cheek. “Tell me what you want.” 

“I want, oh, fuck, I, I want you to fuck me, Hyunjin.”

In an instant, he’s disentangled himself from you, and you can’t help but whine very loudly at the sudden loss of his fingers. Hyunjin just smirks at your naked desperation, spinning you around so you’re in front of him. 

“Come on,” he says, lightly pinching your ass to make you move. You yelp, smacking him on the arm, but he just laughs. “I’m not fucking you in here. Let’s go.” 

“Asshole,” you curse, but you go anyway, because all you want is for him to touch you again, and if he’s refusing to do it in here, then why would you want to stay? You’re going wherever his hands go. 

Maybe you should feel ashamed, for giving in so easily. But you don’t. All you feel is desire. This is what you want. What you need. 

Hyunjin’s fingers press lightly on the small of your back as he guides you down the hallway to his bedroom. It’s just as ostentatious as the rest of his place - expensive-looking light fixtures hanging from the ceiling, dark leather headboard and frame for his gigantic bed, which is covered in piles of plush-looking blankets and pillows. There’s a gorgeous painting taking up most of the wall above his bed. 

He doesn’t give you much time to admire the room, because as soon as you’re in front of the bed, he spins you again, hands reaching for the zipper of your dress, sliding it to the ground, leaving you standing there in nothing but your panties. Before you can tell him to stop pushing you around, he’s kissing you fervently, like he’s been dying the entire time his mouth has been away from yours these last few minutes, and suddenly you forget that you’re irritated. 

Hyunjin backs you onto the bed, breaking away from your lips long enough to urge you to move towards the headboard, unbuttoning his shirt and tossing it to the side as he follows. When his fingers grab for his belt, they find yours already there, making short work of the buckle. He groans in delight, deciding to use his hands to grope your bare breasts while you unzip his pants. 

“Can’t wait to see it in real life, huh?” he asks, dragging his thumbs over your nipples. He chuckles when you just whimper, back arching slightly to encourage him to keep touching you.

The truth is, yes, you can’t wait to see Hyunjin’s massive dick, but more importantly, you can’t wait to feel it inside you, so you continue with your task, pushing his pants and boxers down together. And god, what a cock it is, long and thick and positively darkened with need. Smeared drops of excitement coat the head, and the sight makes your mouth water. 

He rises up to kneel between your legs, grabbing his cock with one hand and giving it a few lazy pumps. “Well? Don’t tell me you’re speechless again.” 

“Goddamn it,” you huff in exasperation, “you’re the fucking worst.” But you can’t stop staring as he gently squeezes the head, making a pleased noise, relieving himself a little while he watches you writhe in impatience. 

“You’ll be singing a different tune in a moment, sweetheart.” 

Your nose wrinkles at how easily ‘sweetheart’ drips off his tongue. “Just put it in me already,” you demand, leaning back on your elbows, licking your lips as you peer up at him, trying to send a blatant “fuck me!” signal with every inch of your body. 

Hyunjin tuts, lifting one of his gorgeously thick eyebrows. “Right to it? Is that what you really want?” In one swift motion, he hooks a finger under your panties and drags them down and off. It’d be a more impressive move if anyone but him were doing it. 

“I just… I thought we were gonna fuck?” Isn’t that what you’re here for?

“Of course we are. But is that how you typically do it? No foreplay, no build up?” His fingers rake down your stomach, trail over your thighs, causing your body to twitch with shivers. “That doesn’t sound like any fun at all.”

It’s not how you’d prefer to do this, no. You’re just surprised that he agrees. So you say nothing in reply, visibly closing your mouth while he maneuvers you into position, pushing your legs up so your knees bend, your thighs meeting your stomach, completely exposing your cunt to him. 

“That’s better. Just let me play with you a little first, sweetheart. I promise you’ll like it.” 

Your instinct is to argue with him, tell him he has no idea what you’d like, but you’ve already done that tonight. And you were wrong. So again, you bite your tongue. 

Until he extends his own, letting a string of spit fall onto your pussy.

“Ew, Hyunjin!” You’re disgusted, but not with him. Why do you find that so hot?

“Too much?” he inquires, letting go of your legs as he glances at you. You’re not sure you’ve ever seen a real expression of concern on his face before. It rattles you slightly. 

Biting your lip, you shake your head. “No - keep going.” 

He nods, hands reaching for your thighs again. “If I hit any hard no’s for you, say something, and I promise I’ll stop, okay?” 

“I will.” 

He bows over you again, licking a straight line up your slit. With a moan, you let your head drop back against the pillows. His mouth feels absolutely divine.

Where others in the past just dove in, Hyunjin takes his time. He drags his tongue around slowly, licking through your soaking folds, tasting you. It reminds you of the way you’d seen him drink a really fine whisky, holding it in his mouth, quietly identifying every note, every flavor. Relishing, instead of rushing. 

When his lips brush over your clit, leaving teasing kisses, you moan. Hyunjin hums, a self-satisfied little rumble, and lifts his head. “See? Told you you’d like this.” 

“Please, shut up and suck my clit.” It’s meant to be an order but definitely sounds like a pathetic whine. Whatever, as long as he listens. 

He listens. Those plush lips that you can’t stop yourself from staring at roll over your already throbbing little nub and warm pleasure runs down your spine before pooling in your belly. His dark hair keeps falling in his face, obscuring him from your view, and for some reason you can’t have that. Tentatively, you reach out, hand shaking a little. 

Hyunjin hums when your fingers slide through his soft locks, pushing the strands back, holding them in place so you can see his eyes, the way they squeeze shut when he sucks noisily on your clit. The sounds he makes are so loud, completely uninhibited, moaning and grunting as his lips smack and his tongue laps. 

He uses said tongue to fuck you expertly, his movements so confident, so sure. He reads every quiver, listens to every moan, figures out how to work you up with quick, teasing shallow plunges, before slowing it down, going deeper, tongue brushing your walls like he’s speaking a language only your body understands. 

“Hyunjin,” you sigh, unable to tear your eyes away from him. 

His mouth parts from you long enough for him to speak. “There it is. There’s the tone I was looking for. Enjoy this, sweetheart. I know I am.” 

You’re enjoying it so much that you unexpectedly whimper when he stops again a moment later, feeling a little embarrassed as he exhales a quiet laugh into your warmth. “Just hold on,” he murmurs, dragging his tongue up your slit to pass over your clit again and again, before sliding a finger into your clenching hole.

“Ohhhh.” 

The combination is so good, his finger filling you while his mouth suctions to you, that your eyes flutter shut. He pulls out and glides back in, all the way to his knuckles in one smooth motion, your wet folds parting so easily for him. He’s done an amazing job of spreading your slickness around, coating your inner thighs, messing his bed beneath you. 

“Gonna make you come,” Hyunjin says, spreading you open with two fingers now. “Need you to come before I can fuck you just like you want. Can you do that for me?”

The tension in your gut tells you that that shouldn’t be a problem. Both fingers have curled inside you, stroking over your soft spot, making you pant, clutching Hyunjin’s satin sheets for dear life. 

“Hy-Hyun-”

Before you can even finish saying his name, the tension snaps, nerves firing from your cunt to your toes, causing your legs to lock up. Hyunjin groans, moving his hands to grasp at your thighs, trying to loosen their squeeze. 

“Easy, sweetheart, don’t take me out just yet.” When your body finally starts to relax, he grins. “There we go. Good girl.”

If this were any other time, you’d snap at him for dropping that pet phrase on you. But you’re too blissed out at the moment, practically purring as he starts to kiss his way up your torso. 

When he reaches your breasts, he joins you, a low rumble sounding from the back of his throat. His nose nuzzles between them, as he leaves loud kisses on their swelling curves. 

Another thing Hyunjin isn’t wrong about - his mouth feels much better than his fingers do on your nipples, tongue gliding like warm velvet against the pert nubs. You continuously moan, until you’re nearly panting, fingers once again finding his dark locks and threading themselves between. 

“How am I doing, sweetheart?” he murmurs.

“Good.” It doesn’t even occur to you to tell him anything but the truth. “So good, Hyunjinnie. Ah!” You flinch as he suddenly nips the other nipple, teeth clamping gently. “Why?!” 

“You and that damn nickname. I must not be doing enough if you’re still calling me that.” He rises onto his knees, shaking his head. “Guess I just gotta fuck it out of you.” 

And just like that, you feel that spark again. 

“Sure you will, Hyunjinnie,” you simper, voice dripping with honey, so sickeningly-sweet as you coo his name. It has the desired effect, making Hyunjin’s eyes flash. 

He reaches for you, pulling you up into his lap, before you can so much as breathe. “You doubting me, sweetheart?” His hands press into your hips, urging you down on him. Both of you groan as his cock slides along your cunt, and the sparks inside you ignite. 

“I’m not your sweetheart,” you spit back, feeling that familiar sense of agitation, but it’s not annoyance now, it’s anticipation. 

“And I’m not really yours, but let’s play pretend for the night,” he drawls, and you look at him with wide eyes, but he kisses away the wonder on your face, working you up with teeth and tongue, until you’re frenzied with need. Your fingers clutch at his biceps, nails sinking in to tether him closer. 

His hands on your waist guide you down again. As his cockhead breaches your lips, you keen, head falling forward onto his shoulder. 

“Holy fuck,” you gasp. The stretch is delicious, cunt already throbbing around his thickness.  

Both of you freeze when you’re fully seated on him, no sounds in the room but the rhythmic cadence of your panting intertwining with his. 

“You know,” Hyunjin speaks through grit teeth, focused on the spot where your bodies join, “we could’ve been doing this a long, long time ago.”

You don’t know what to say to that. How long has he wanted this? You’re not sure the exact answer for yourself, except that it’s longer than you’d ever truly want to confess.

“Maybe - maybe if you weren’t such a - oh, oh, oh!” Your lame attempt at a retort is lost to the rapid snapping of Hyunjin’s hips when he starts to thrust up into you. There’s nothing you can do but bounce in his lap, clinging to his shoulders as he finally fucks you just as hard as he’d promised. “Hyunjin, please!” 

Hyunjin grunts, perspiration trickling down his forehead as he concentrates on giving you what you wanted. His jaw flexes, brows drawn together in a frown, and even with this fierce expression on his face, he’s so beautiful that you can’t help yourself, diving forward to kiss that gorgeous mouth of his like you’ve always imagined, as if you weren’t just kissing him a few minutes ago, but like it’s the first time, tracing his lips with yours, imprinting the feeling of them against your own to store away in your memory for later.

“Fuck, sweetheart.” His words are the oxygen you inhale, tongues pressed together like the pages of a book. “I think I prefer you this way. So needy for my cock.” He smirks. “Kinda want to keep you like this.” 

He digs his fingers into the plump roundness of your ass as he grinds into you, sliding you back and forth. Your hips undulate, rolling you down on his big cock, feeling every inch of him rubbing against your walls. 

“Hyu-hyu-hyun!” 

It’s impossible to get an entire word out, given the pace at which Hyunjin’s strokes are jostling you. Your staccato cries get louder when he switches it up, laying you on your back and shoving a pillow under your hips. His thighs smack into your ass with every plunge of his thick length, and again you can do nothing but try to breathe, drowning in euphoria as you are.

“Yeah, you’re best just like this. Stuffed full of cock, no room for thoughts. Or arguments.” 

“F-fuck!” You were trying to say ‘fuck off’ but Hyunjin chose that moment to thumb at your clit, giving the aching nub the friction it so badly needed. Your hips buck up, making Hyunjin groan.

“Just like that, so good for me.” 

You whine involuntarily at his praise, hips lifting again, trying to take him deeper. Every stroke of his cock lights you up, your body tingling from head to toe. The strong thrumming in your gut is going to overtake you soon and you’re finally going to get what you’ve been needing for weeks now. And it’s Hyunjin of all people who is going to give it to you. 

You’re pulled out of your reverie as Hyunjin suddenly pulls out, falling onto his side next to you. 

“What are y- oh!” You gasp as he turns you on your side, facing away from him. One hand lifts  your leg, sliding it back until your calf loops over his. Then he enters you again, and again, thrusting in deep, powerful movements. “Oh, fuck, goddamn.” 

“That’s right,” he growls, arm beneath you bending, hand coming to a rest around your throat. Not squeezing, but holding you in place, back pressed to his front. You’re both covered in sweat, bodies gliding over one another, making it hard for him to keep his pace. So his fingers spread on your chest, locking you in place, giving him leverage to pound into you. “Take it, sweetheart. Take what I give you like a good girl.” 

“Ahhh,” you moan, “don’t - don’t call me that.” 

“No? You don’t like being praised?” Hyunjin releases his hold on your thigh, running his others fingers around where his cock keeps sliding between your lips. “Your pussy tells me another story. You’re soaking my sheets.”

“Nah - ah - not that, ’s not that.” With this slightly slower rhythm, you’re able to speak, but full sentences still seem hard. “Like praise. Hate - hate good girl.” 

“Ohhh, I see.” Hyunjin laughs breathily. “I should’ve known. You’re too proud. Think it makes you look weak if I call you that? Hmm?” 

Even in your desperate state, you know he’s not far off from the truth. You don’t want him calling you that, because it feels like giving in to him. Letting him take control completely. Possessing you. His good girl. 

The real, honest to god truth is - you can’t let him call you that, because you do want it. And you hate how much you want it. 

So you deny it. Or at least, you try to. But all you can stutter is a weak “You’re s-such a d-dick,” as he continues snapping his hips into your ass, making your entire body jiggle in his strong grip. 

Hyunjin drops an open-mouthed kiss to your shoulder, wet and sloppy. You curl your fingers into his arm as you sense that you’re approaching the precipice of your orgasm. You can tell that it’s going to be an intense one, one of those climaxes that clears your mind of all thought and leaves you literally shaking in ecstasy. Just as he’d promised.

You do appreciate a man who follows through on his promises. 

Hyunjin must feel the way you’re starting to clench around him, groaning into your shoulder. “Ahh, I think this little cunt’s trying to tell me something again, sweetheart. You gonna come for me? Hmmm?” His fingers rub over your clit, the sudden touch making you jolt. “Come on, be a good girl and c-”

Twisting your head, you smash your nose into his cheek, clumsily seeking his mouth. Cutting him off with heated kisses, hoping he’ll interpret it as annoyance fueling your actions and not see it for what it truly is - untamed desire. 

A strangled cry passes from Hyunjin’s lips into yours, and with one more tweak to your clit, you come undone. Your body locks up, thighs going rigid, cunt clamping around his cock so fiercely that Hyunjin hisses loudly, forehead resting on the nape of your neck.

“Fuck, you’re so goddamn tight,” he whispers in your ear. Sweat drips from his skin onto yours. “You’re gonna make me come. Is that what you want?”

You can’t answer. You’re gone, completely gone, beyond words, capable of making only the most broken, pathetic sounds, wantonly mewling as slowly grinds into you, cock rubbing against your clenching walls. When your legs start to go slack, he resumes his thrusting, but at a languorous pace, and you’re not sure if he’s trying to go easy on you now that you’re approaching overstimulation, or if he’s trying to slow himself down.

“I think it is what you want. I think you want me to fill this little pussy up with my cum, don’t you? Hmm?” His nose prods at your cheek. “A sweet creampie for my good girl?”

The whine that you let you out is pitifully loud. White hot shame spikes through you, but only for a second, the emotion quickly burnt away by your fervent need. 

“Come on, tell me. Tell me you want it.” 

“Ahhh!” You gasp as his cock sinks in deeper, hitting your g-spot. It’s almost too much, the delicious drag, and your fingers dig into his arm, nails sinking into his skin. “Fuck!”

“Tell me,” he says again, but this time there’s a plea laced into the command, a desperate edge in his tone that strikes a chord somewhere deep inside you, and suddenly you want to give him anything he needs. 

“Hyunjin, I want it, p-please!” 

Those are the magic words. Hyunjin groans, his hips falling out of their slow rhythm, jerking erratically as he does exactly what he said, shooting his load deep inside you, moaning your name the entire time. You grip the sheets so hard, you’re afraid you’ll tear them, shoving your hips back against his, riding out his climax with him. 

“Pussy’s sucking me dry, sweetheart. So greedy,” he pants, trailing kisses along your neck. “Think it wants more.” 

“Hyunjin!” You sob his name again, voice breaking. All it takes is his fingers pinching at your clit and you’re coming again, stomach twitching, breath leaving your body in one big rush. 

When your body stops trembling, Hyunjin finally slips out of you, his hand falling away from your cunt. He lets out a tired laugh.

“You can take your nails out of my arm. I’m not going anywhere.” 

“Oh.” Your neck burns a little in embarrassment. You hadn’t realized you were still holding on to him so tightly, unconsciously keeping him in place. Keeping him close to you. You relax your grip, and he slides his arms around you further, locking you into his embrace. 

It’s… nice, being in Hyunjin’s arms. Really nice. Lying there, in your messy, tired state, you feel rather content. 

But the longer you lie there, just breathing together, not speaking, your head starts to fill with thoughts again. Questions. The most pressing being, at what point is he going to kick you out? Because despite everything that just happened, he’s still Hyunjin, and you’re still you, and - 

“It’s already started.” Hyunjin hums, lightly shaking you. “I can hear you thinking again.” 

Your reflexes kick back in. “It’s just what I do. You should try it some time.” 

To your surprise, Hyunjin starts to laugh. You roll over, nose bumping his as you give him a curious look. 

“What?” 

“You really can’t help yourself, can you?” He brushes a finger over your cheek. “You’ve got a fighter’s instinct. It’s one of the things I admire about you. But maybe, just maybe, you don’t have to fight me all the time?” 

You stare at him as you try to make sense of the rather casual confession of admiration he just dropped. Nope. Can’t. Not right now.

“I…” You pause. “Sorry. It’s just a habit.” 

He smiles, something genuine that slowly shifts into his familiar smirk, and even as spent as you are, you feel a stirring inside you. “Guess we need to work on that.”

In the morning, you might regret what you say next. But the night’s not over yet. “Maybe you just didn’t fuck me stupid enough yet.” 

Hyunjin accepts your challenge with a kiss. 

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© 2024 by minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost. I do not allow translations of my works.

Taglist: @scoupsjin; @aznstoner; @yourtmblrgirlfriend; @hyunlvrs; @notevenheretbh1; @chrisbangsgalaxy; @dessianna1

#stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids imagines #hyunjin smut #hyunjin x reader #skz imagines #skz x you #skz fanfic #stray kids fanfic #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #stray kids x you #fic: yours for the night

[moon-rivr]

omg your miguel stories are tew good plz stop encouraging my obsession💀 but just in case you dont wanna listen👀... is there anyway you can do a one shot of miguel being like a laid back sugar daddy/just spoils the absolute shit out of us without giving a fuck PLEASE🙏🏾

anywaysssss love you and i wish you all the best<3

million dollar man

pairing: miguel o’hara x fem reader

contents: age gap (reader’s in college while miguel’s in mid thirties), handjob, and semi-public fingering

author’s note: i loved writing this request sm so thank you for allowing me to indulge 😩 wishing you the best too <33

word count: 4.8K

The rules of the website had practically imprinted in your brain with how many times you reread them- no cat-fishing relationships or scams, no low-quality photos, and to not be abusive. The rules seemed pretty simple but you couldn't help but hesitate to accept the terms, your hand hovering the cursor. "Oh fuck, just click it already," you mumbled to yourself, accepting the small box on the right corner of the screen after a couple seconds of hesitation. Your screen flooded with what seemed to be hundreds of older men, most of them actively seeking out for a sugar baby in exchange for some kind of service in return.

You'd been wanting to sign up for a sugar daddy website after noticing how empty your pantry was, a couple ramen packets sitting on the counters collecting dust. While you knew that you could be living much worse, you couldn't help but want more than eating the same food everyday. With the amount of student debt that you were crumbling under, you couldn't afford to make extravagant purchases. The job that you had managed to sustain you for your basic needs, but you were tired of simply just floating above the debt line. You found yourself with the desire to have more.

You decided to accept on the terms of the website and set up a profile, but you couldn't bring yourself to explore the options available. You stepped aside from the computer, rubbing over your eyes as you debated the reality of the situation.

You didn't have much time to regret your decision though, your phone alarm ringing with the reminder that you had to be getting ready for work soon. You shut off your computer, deciding to face the consequences of your actions at a much later time when you weren’t running late. After putting on the uniform for the ice cream shop that you worked at, you made your way out the house out to the parlor.

"I don't really see what the problem is with having a sugar daddy. You deserve more than what this place pays," one of your coworkers, Luna, told you as the two of you cleaned up the spoons from the previous shift. "You don't think I'm being a gold digger by doing it?" You asked her, wanting to get some kind of reassurance about the doubts that'd been clouding your mind since you'd joined the website.

She shrugged, walking over to take the order of an elderly woman that walked in. "If they know what they're getting into, I don't think it constitutes as being a gold digger. They know that the relationship is purely transactional," she responded to your question after the woman stepped away with her vanilla cone.

Her words rung through your mind as you sat down in front of your computer after getting off work, deciding to explore the options that were available. Most of the names shown on the website were some of Nueva York's most prominent businessmen, their name plastered onto some of the most successful buildings in the state.

You'd expected for most of the profiles to be senile men who were in the middle of a life crisis, instead getting men in their mid forties to sixties. Your nose scrunched up as you clicked through some of their profiles, most of them coming up as married with the description of 'wanting discreet fun.'

You were about to give up on your search for the night when you stumbled upon a profile of a man in his mid-thirties, one of the youngest men you'd seen in the fifteen minutes of scrolling. Miguel O'Hara. His profile revealed to you that he was divorced, his description being that he sought out for someone to spend time with in exchange for monitory compensation, a clear difference between his profile and the others you'd encountered.

To say that he was an easy swipe right was an understatement, your finger almost snapping off from how fast you clicked on your mouse. Not only was his persona more endearing than those you'd encountered, he was one of the more handsome men you'd had seen. You didn't think too much of the swipe, your eyes widening in surprise as you got the notification that it was a match.

You spent about a week talking to him about what could be expected out of the arrangement before he suggested that he take you out to a dinner. His reasoning behind the spontaneous date was that he simply wanted to see how the two connected outside of text, get a feeling of what type of person you were. As you waited for the day of the dinner to arrive, you couldn't help but be filled with anticipation and excitement.

You'd even gotten up early the day of to plan out your outfit ahead of time so you wouldn't have to do so after class, choosing to wear a pair of jeans that weren't too distressed with a black top.  Scenarios of how the dinner would go riddled your mind throughout the day, your focus of what was on the board diminishing with every second that you were in the classroom.

You showed up to dinner half an hour late due to the subway not arriving at its designated time, easily finding Miguel through the crowds of people. not only was the tallest one in the room, he was also the one with the nicest attire in the place. The black button down shirt he had on accentuated the bulging muscles underneath, the material flexing to fit around him perfectly and the black slacks that he had on fit his legs to perfection.

You caught a whiff of his cologne when he stood up to shake your hand, the pure scent of him reeking of money. He pulled the chair back for you, waiting for you to take a seat before he sat back down. You couldn't help but notice how well he filled out the seat, the pure presence of him almost demanding to be seen.

"Sorry I'm late, the subway got delayed," you started off, wondering just how long he'd been here waiting for you to show up. "While I do appreciate punctuality, I understand," he responded, handing you one of the menus from the table. You picked up the menu, noticing that none of the prices were on there but rather just what the meals had to offer.

A waiter came by a couple minutes later to take the orders, Miguel ordering steak with mashed potatoes and a red wine. "I'll just get the grilled chicken with water, please," you told the waiter, handing them your menu along with Miguel’s. They nodded and stepped away, the only sound at the table being the classical music playing throughout the restaurant.

You looked down at the plate of food dumbfounded, wondering how exactly it was that rich people got full. You were half expecting for the waiter to announce that it was a prank, to come back and fill up your plate. Upon realizing that the two bites that were placed on your plate was the whole meal, you reluctantly took a bite out of it.

"So, the terms of our arrangement would be pretty simple. I'd provide you with the funds that you deem appropriate and you would provide me with your company. I'm not expecting any kind of sexual favors in return, but I wouldn't be opposed to it if you had the desire to," he told you, his tone casual as if he were just having another business arrangement. You almost choked on the water you were sipping, setting the glass back down.

"So what you're saying is that you don't want to have sex with me unless you and I wanted to," you repeated back to him, raising a brow as he nodded. "Do you mind if I ask why?" The question came out of you without much thought, his brows furrowing in exchange. You thought he wasn't going to respond to the question as his silence turned deafening, the room seeming to rise in temperature with every second that passed. "I’m looking for this certain kind of arrangement because I know what to expect from this. My daughter passed away a couple months ago and it helped me to realize that no amount of money that I have will keep anyone next to me," he responded after a couple of minutes, his words coming out with a certain kind of precision as he spoke.

You stayed quiet as you let the words stick in your brain, wondering just what exactly it was that made this man so closed off to the world. You wanted to ask him more questions, but you figured that they weren't appropriate for the setting or the arrangement that was being discussed.

"I'd start off with giving you a short allowance for now, $500 a week just to get you started. It'll increase the more that we spend time together, a little bonus if we have to show up to an event together. Obviously, iId take care of the expenses of your outfit," he added, his red eyes boring into yours like they wanted to see through your very being. “That all sounds very promising, but I think I need some time to think about it if you don't mind," you finally spoke up, watching as his eyebrows bunched up before he nodded.

"You look unsatisfied by the meal. Was it not up to your liking?" He asked after you finished up with your meal, placing a couple hundred dollar bills on the table. "No, the meal was good. thank you," you told him, giving him a tight smile as you got up from the dinner table once the waiter came over to the table. "So if it was good, why do you look unhappy?" He pushed the question further, his eyes locked on you as the two of you headed out of the restaurant.

"Like I said, there wasn't anything wrong with the food. the portions were just a bit.. questionable," you responded, your voice dropping towards the end like you were admitting something taboo. You were expecting for him to protest after what he'd just paid, not the small chuckle that escaped from his lips.

Miguel took you to a burger joint in Brooklyn, stating that 'no other place could do it quite the same.' You'd ordered yourself a burger and fries along with a milkshake, Miguel getting the same thing as you. "Thank you for saying something, the whole meal felt like an appetizer," he told you as the two of you sat down with your trays, the juiciness from the burger looking more inviting than the piece of chicken you'd eaten earlier.

"How do you rich people put up with eating like that?" You asked him, almost moaning at the taste of the burger once you took a bite. "Most of them do cocaine if I'm being frank. I normally don't eat out unless I need to so it's few times I have to subject myself to that," he explained, watching as you stole some of his french fries with amusement.

Despite the initial awkwardness that'd been present throughout the dinner, you couldn't help but enjoy talking to him as the night progressed. His dry humor was something that you were growing to like, the way that he seemed to have a response for everything that you asked/told him.

He was honest and direct, not in a way that he used to excuse what some might deem as 'rude', but in a way that seemed genuine and vulnerable. He'd taken you home after the two of you had finished up, saying that it was too dangerous for you to be taking the subway alone at this hour. You watched as he pulled out of your house, a small smile on your face as he drove away.

The doubts about the arrangement crawled back into your brain once you were alone, absentmindedly reaching over for your laptop and signing in. You weren't sure what exactly it is that you sought out for, maybe some kind of reassurance that he wouldn't get bored with you or start expecting for you to act a certain way around him.

You opened up your browser, deciding to read a Reddit thread about the experiences that some others had as being sugar babies. While some of them described the experience as something pleasant, a few posts lingered about some other girls that had a bad encounter with their sugar daddy. You decided to close your computer after a couple minutes, coming to the realization that Miguel was nothing like the men described in those awful experiences and the decision to say yes had never been so obvious before.

You weren't sure when it was that you started seeing Miguel as more than a provider, seeing him as someone that you cared about beyond what he was giving you. He'd kept true to his promise, his daily allowance now being $700 with the time that the two of you spent together. You'd started to seek him out for the littlest things that you had to do, such as going out on grocery runs or going out for lunch.

When you'd asked him to go to the grocery store with you, you'd managed to deny the growing attraction that was slowly starting to build up by simply telling yourself that you were using him since he was able to reach the top shelf. But the more that you gave a thought about where the relationship between the two of you was headed, the more that you were certain that you couldn't live with yourself if he wasn't present in your future.

You went over to his house after feeling overwhelmed with your final exams coming up, hoping that he would just be able to spare a couple minutes and hold you. "What's wrong?" He asked once he opened the door, exhaustion and anxiety coating your features. "I just need you," you responded back to him, his face softening just the slightest bit before he opened the door to let you in.

He guided you over to his couch, his hand wrapping around your shoulders as he stroked your upper arm. The two of you stayed silent for a while, simply staring at the fireplace ahead of you. "I hope I didn't disturb you," you spoke up, knowing how busy he was.

"You could never disturb me. I like having you around, you're more tolerable than the people I work with," he responded, his thumb lazily drawing circles on your arm. "I'll take that as a compliment," you murmured, leaning against him as you felt the combined heat from his body and the fireplace lulling you into a sense of peace and security. "You should. What's got your little head all worked up anyways?" He inquired, the flame from the fireplace flickering in his eyes as you looked up at him.

"I have finals coming up. And I can't really afford to fail, otherwise I'll get my scholarship taken away. I don't know, I guess I'm just anxious knowing how much is on the line," you told him, realizing just how silly your concerns sounded out loud. “I can help you out if you’re really that stressed out about them,” he suggested after a couple seconds, the movements on your arm coming to a stop. "How about this. if you pass your finals, I'll take you on a little trip to Cabo to celebrate. We'll go on a mall spree beforehand to get you ready."

True to his word, Miguel had the tickets set up for the weekend which you would be done with finals. He'd been the first person that you told about passing them, hearing him say that he was proud of you felt like an even bigger accomplishment especially after he dedicated some of time towards helping you review.

"I knew that you could do it, you're so smart," he'd told you once you shared the news with him, his big arms enveloping you in a hug as he held you close to him. It was the first time he'd hugged you, the feeling strange to the both of you as he did. The act felt unpracticed, something he hadn't done in a long time with the way that his arms awkwardly wrapped around you. Despite that minor detail, you felt invincible as he held you like nothing could touch you.

"I'm thinking about getting my nails done. Which set do you think would look better?" You asked, handing him your phone with the Pinterest board of designs you'd saved. He grabbed his glasses from his case, putting them on the bridge of his nose as he peered down at your phone.

"Isn't it all the same just in different colors?" He noted, scrolling through your phone as he tried to find a difference in the multitude of designs you'd saved. "There's somewhat of a difference in there, it's pretty subtle since I just tend to go for what i'm familiar with," you responded, putting on your seatbelt as you waited. The two of you were heading out to the mall, but you'd come up with idea of getting your nails done after getting in the car.

Miguel ended up liking a simple red design with some gemstones on the pointer and ring finger so you gave the reference photo to the lady doing your nails. You watched as she put on the gemstones with precision, your eyes flicking over to Miguel as he waited for you in the lobby.

If he was uncomfortable in this setting, he didn't show it as he scrolled through the People magazine available. You turned your attention back to your nails, an idea sparking up in your head as she started to put on the final touches to the gem design. "Do you mind putting an initial on my ring finger?" You asked her before it was too late, waiting for her to agree before you told her what letter you wanted on there.

Your hand rested on his pants as he drove, his eyes flicking down to the design and slightly widened as he noticed the small 'M' on your ring finger. "What'd you do that for?" He asked, his attention turning back to the road after a couple moments of shock. "Figured it would be a nice little detail since you were so generous in paying for them," you responded, sliding down his zipper with a bit of difficulty as you adjusted to the feeling of the acrylic once more.

You watched as he let out a shaky breath, his eyes remaining on the road ahead. "I'm driving," he warned you as you started to palm him through his boxers. "So keep your eyes on the road, Miguelito. Just feel," you reiterated, your hand squeezing around his cock slightly. “Ay Dios, nos vas a matar.” (oh god, you’re going to kill us)

You watched as he retrained himself as he drove, knuckles starting to turn white from how hard he was gripping the steering wheel. You picked up some of the precum leaking out through the tip of his reddened cock, lathering all over the shaft as a form of lubrication. Your hand moved with ease up and down his semi-hardened length, his cock getting harder with each tug that you gave him.

He let out a small hiss as he felt one of your nails brush up against the underside of his cock, the area a bit sensitive for him. He'd pay for your nails hundreds of times over and over if it meant he got to see them wrapped around his cock with his initial on them.

You pulled your hand once Miguel was nearing the mall, drying your hand of the sticky residue with a piece of tissue paper he had in the glove box. "Now you decide to stop?" He asked, maneuvering his way into the parking lot with such ease, parking in reverse in what seemed to be mere seconds. If it were up to you, you would've taken about twenty minutes to do the task before eventually giving up.

Your attention went back to the bulge in his pants, his cock still hard from your previous ministrations. "Well, maybe you'll get more motivated to get out of the mall now," you suggested, getting out of the car as you dusted off your attire. Miguel rolled his eyes as he followed behind you throughout the mall, his hand making the slightest contact with yours.

You stumbled into a Gucci store after a while of walking through the mall, immediately drawn into the designs of the bags. You looked around, one of them in particular catching your eye. The design of the bag was beautiful yet simple, a black leather handbag in the shape of a heart. Your eyes widened as you looked at the price tag attached, your hands making quick work to return it to the shelf.

Before you could get the chance though, Miguel grabbed your hand and turned your attention to him. "What's wrong with the bag? You don't like it?" He asked as he looked at you, expecting for some kind of reasonable answer. "No, there's nothing wrong. it's just expensive," you responded, avoiding eye contact with him as you stepped away from the shelf.

"Well, how much is it?" You heard him ask behind you before you got the chance to walk away too far, his hands reaching up for the purse. "It's almost five grand and that's not including tax. It's fine, I don't need a pu-," you started off but you got quickly interrupted when Miguel called over a sales associate to get him the bag from the back. "I thought you said it was expensive, mi cielo," he simply stated before he went off to check out with the associate that had the bag in a dust bag, taking his black amex card from his pocket as the transaction processed. You stood behind, watching as he paid for the bag with seemingly no hesitation.

The rational side of you threatened to come out, wanting to tell him that he could be spending those five thousand on something other than a bag, but you pursed your lips and watched the scene unfurling in front of you. You remembered the whole point of why'd you even joined the sugar daddy website, wanting the opportunity at having nice things.

"You may not need a purse, but your eyes practically lit up when you saw this one. I'm here so you don't have to resign to that disappointment that you've grown used to," he told you as the two of you walked out of the store, his hand resting on the small of your back. “Well, thank you. I really did like the bag,” you told him, leaning up to give him a small kiss on the cheek. You walked around the mall, eyes glancing around the different stores before eventually walking into Nordstrom.

You picked out a couple pieces for the trip that you'd need, such as a couple dresses, skirts, and bikinis for the warm weather you’d be exposed to. Miguel went with you to the fitting rooms, sitting down on the couches outside as he waited for you to finish up. You'd changed into the shirt and skirt that you'd pulled into the dressing room, looking at yourself reflected on the body-length mirror.

You couldn't deny that the skirt made every part of your legs look good, from your thighs to your ass. Even though you were confident that Miguel would end up liking it, you still decided to call him in to get his opinion. He opened up the door as discretely as he could, glancing around to make sure that no associates were nearby as he stepped inside.

You couldn't help but let out a small laugh as the giant of a man in front of you was rendered speechless, eyes raking up and down your figure as he took you in. "Te ves tan hermosa dressed like that," he finally spoke up after a couple seconds, his hands wrapping around your waist as he held you close to his body. (you look so gorgeous)

You weren't completely sure what the first part of his sentence meant, but you could guess that it was something good based on the tone of endearment that he used and the way that he couldn't keep his hands off you. "Can you be quiet for me?" He asked, looking at you through the mirror as his hands splayed on your stomach. The question sounded more like he was telling you to be quiet, so you simply nodded along and watched him sit down on the small stool.

Miguel placed you down on his clothed thigh, your legs spread out for him as your back fell flush against his toned chest. His hand made his way down your body, your skirt being pushed up as he did so. He cupped your clothed cunt, the expense of his hand capturing most of it.

"You look so pretty when you're all like this. All needy and just for me," he murmured into your ear, one of his hands holding you in place as the other one slid the black pair of panties you'd chosen to wear. One of his fingers went inside your cunt, the tightness of your walls engulfing it completely as he pushed it deeper inside of you. Your slick coated his finger as he opened you up in a way that only he could, reaching places that even some of your toys couldn't reach.

"Excuse me, but do you need some help in there? you've been in there for an awful long time," an associate called out, knocking on your door. Your eyes widened at the prospect of getting caught in this position, a small muffled gasp making its way out of you. "No, the dress is just stuck," you called out, hoping your voice didn't come out as needy as it sounded to your own ears.

"Well I can come in there and help you out. Sorry, it's just that we have a line forming," the associate told you, her hand coming to the doorknob and slightly shaking it as if she were trying to open it. Her attempts failed since the door was still locked on your end, the rattling of the knob stopping a couple seconds later.

You were half expecting him to remove his hand, but his fingers remained deep inside of your cunt as he looked down at you. "You weren't playing fair in the car so why should I have to play fair?" He spoke just low enough for you to hear, a hint of amusement as he spoke. You struggled to keep your voice even as you spoke, resisting the urge to just go ahead and let a moan rip out.

"Uh no, thank you though. It's just a zipper but it's almost off," you told the sales associate, letting out a small sigh of relief as the clacking of her heels retreated from the dressing rooms. Miguel pushed another one of his fingers into your cunt, moving them in a scissoring motion before he curled them upwards to reach that spot inside of you.

Your toes curled and your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you felt his thumb make contact with your clit, the nub already starting to stimulate just by the touch of his finger. You felt your clit throb against his fingers as he rubbed small circles on it, the rhythm in sync with the fingers he was pushing inside of you.

Your back flushed against his chest as you felt yourself getting closer to that sweet release of euphoria, your shaky breaths and whimpers getting muffled as you pressed the palm of your hand against your mouth. Just as you were approaching that all too familiar release, Miguel pulled his hands away quickly.

You were about to protest before remembering what you'd done in the car, the words dying in your throat as you got up from his lap. "Touché," you mumbled as you started taking off the clothes that you'd been trying on, watching as he wiped his hand off on a handkerchief. Miguel covered up your body with his as he stepped out of the dressing room, closing the door quickly afterwards.

"Sorry about that, she called me into help her with the zipper. stupid thing wouldn't budge," you heard him speak outside, surely talking to the associate who must be growing impatient with every second that you spent inside. You stepped back into your clothes, carrying the choices that you'd picked out as you went to go join Miguel at the checkout line.

Needless to say, the attire that you'd showed Miguel proved to be a definite yes. He gladly paid for the rest of your clothes, not batting an eye as the total came out to be two thousand. "Thank you for the excellent customer service. The concern that you show for your consumers is truly admirable," he noted as the associate handed him back his card, a small smirk creeping up on his lips as he also received the shopping bag. The two of you made your way out of the store, completing the small checklist that the two of you had made for what was needed in order to have a successful trip.

#moon-rivr #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara smut #smut #miguel o’hara across the spider verse #spiderman #spiderman smut #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara fic #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel o’hara spiderman 2099 #atsv miguel #spiderman 2099 #spiderman across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse #atsv smut #miguel atsv #self insert #miguel ohara #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #spiderman atsv #miguel x reader #miguel x y/n #miguel x you #miguel smut #miguel fic

[totowlff]

hellooooo, how are you? i hope fine. After reading kinda all of your toto fics and feeling completely amazed by your writing skills, one question came to my mind:

have you ever thought of writing something about racing!toto and reader?? or like a flashback of why racing!toto have decided to quit after the accident? idk i’m just blabbing

well, maybe he had some kind of...

epiphany

The path was already familiar to you.

Every morning, before going to your clinic in Weissgerberviertel, you went to the building in the heart of Vienna, entered the flat number and waited for your entry to be authorized. After going up in the elevator and being greeted with a smile by the nurse who was there, you walked down the hallway to the white door and knocked softly, receiving authorization to enter.

Sitting on the bed, his patient looked at the window next to him in silence.

— Good morning, Mr. Wolff.

Slowly turning her head towards him, he limited himself to a millimetric nod.

— Good morning.

— How are you today? — you asked, approaching the bed where he was sitting in a rigid, almost robotic posture.

— Same as yesterday — he murmured.

— Feeling shitty? — you said, sitting on the edge of the bed. Your question caused a small smile to escape his lips.

— Yes, shitty.

— I can imagine — you smiled back, pleasantly.

His case was not one of the most common ones you had ever seen. Mr. Wolff had suffered a serious accident in Germany, more specifically on a racing circuit, a few weeks ago. From what you had gathered from the scant details he had offered you, he was trying to set a record when his tire blew and he crashed into the barriers.

The result of that adventure, which he classified as “suicidal”, was a concussion and broken vertebrae that would require long months of rehabilitation and physical therapy.

— Still not tasting anything?

— Not even the smell — your patient replied, with a frustrated expression on his face — Severed nerves, from what the doctor said. I'll need to wait for them to reconnect.

— I'm sorry, Mr. Wolff — you said, trying to show some empathy.

However, the man limited himself to a small smile.

— I told you not to call me Mr. Wolff — he said — I'm not like the old people you treat.

— But you are grumpy like them — you replied in a good-humoured way, making him laugh — Now let's get to the business, Toto.

After positioning a chair next to the bed, you requested the nurse's help to take your patient to her. The process was complicated, after all, he was not a small or light man, but, after some maneuvers and hisses of pain, you finally managed to get him to sit in front of you.

— Let's start with spinal rotation, okay? — you said, earning a nod from Toto — Feet on the ground, arms crossed over your chest, let's go.

The exercise was simple in theory, but for a person with severe vertebrae fractures, it was extremely painful. Not even his help so that the rotations were made slowly, in an attempt to reduce the discomfort, as well as the dizziness he felt when moving, was enough to stop him from grunting in pain every time he turned his torso.

— Fuck — Toto hissed as you slowly counted the rotations until they reached number ten. When the number left his lips, he exhaled heavily.

— All good?

— Yeah.

— How is the pain? — you asked, eyes going to his feet to make sure he hadn't left the position you had placed him in before.

— Considerable — he replied, without looking at you.

— Less than yesterday?

— Same — Toto grumbled — Fuck that Porsche...

You pressed your lips together thoughtfully. It wasn't your place to judge your patients' choices, no matter how much it took them to have to hire you to get back to something close to a normal life. However, given everything you knew about the accident, you couldn't resist making a comment.

— Maybe the problem wasn't the car, Toto.

Toto looked up at you, serious.

— No?

— You yourself said it was a suicide mission and went ahead with it anyway.

— It wasn't me who said it, but Niki...

— Lauda? — you asked incredulously — The guy who almost burned to death after suffering a racing accident?

— Himself. On the same track.

Shaking your head, you were really sure that you were facing a complete madman. No one in their right mind would do that to themselves, especially knowing the consequences, the worst of which was death.

— And even though he said he was suicidal, you did it?

— Yes — Toto replied.

— Why? — you asked softly.

He let out a sigh.

— I've always liked the Nordschleife, Y/N. It was the first track I discovered and I could never stop feeling attracted to it — Toto explained, with a little smile — I remember one time I rented an Opel Calibra and did 50 laps on the open day for tourists. I felt like I had found my place there, even though the guys at the rental office hated me for returning the car with bald tires.

You giggled, imagining the employees' incredulous expressions upon receiving the car used by Toto.

— You know, Y/N — he continued — I dare say I love that place. I love the stories, I love the curves, I love the adrenaline. Nordschleife makes me feel alive, happy. And I love it.

You had a friendly smile on your face, almost as if you understood his love for the place. However, a rational part of your head made you remember the reason why you were there, in front of Toto.

— And you love this place even though you know it almost took your life?

He stared at you for long seconds, as if absorbing his words.

— Well — Toto stammered.

— I don't judge you for having passions, after all, we all have ours. But, your passion for that place led you to do something completely irresponsible, not to say selfish.

— Selfish?

— I doubt you thought about them — you said, pointing to the picture frame on the bedside table. In the image, the boy and girl were smiling widely as they hugged Toto.

When he realized what you were pointing at, he pursed his lips thoughtfully. He definitely hadn't stopped to reflect on that. And, considering how long he would still need to remain at rest, he could think about it a lot.

— Well, shall we continue? — you asked.

With a nod, Toto placed his hands on his chest again, without saying a word for the rest of the session.

#wlffflashes #toto wolff #formula 1 fic #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #toto wolff x reader #formula 1 x reader #f1 x reader #formula 1 x you #toto wolff x you #toto wolff fanfic

[riveranova]

Heyy can i please request alter! Keith (ikemen prince) x fem reader smut with fluff?💕

(A/N): Hello, hello! Thank you for your ask and THANK YOU for giving me a reason to write smut for this man. Hope you enjoy!! (Also, I should definetly study for my Anatomy exam tomorrow but rn all I can think about is Alter!Keith being an absolute SLUT for the reader lmao)

I took a lot of inspiration from 'Criminal' by Taemin. It's SO good!

Breaking His Rules - Alter! Keith x Fem! Reader

Warnings: SMUT | minors DNI, orgasm denial, choking, riding, light bondage, strong language, Alter!Keith being a cocky ass and regrets it instantly, MDom to MSub, FDom, Fem! Reader, fluff, it's a little bit bittersweet, dirty talk, lil bit degradation, fluffy aftercare ending

Character: Keith Howell, Ikemen Prince

Word count: 1.941

Keith was a friendly, maybe a bit shy, man. He was helpful and gentle to all sentient beings who bestowed upon him the same treatment.

But behind his soft eyes there was more than warmth and kindness.

From an early age, Keith's life was beyond traumatizing, leading to him building a wall around himself. A high, stony, cold wall. Nothing and no one should ever get close enough to hurt him again. And so, his alter was born.

Keith believed that this kept him safe from all the unnecessary and time-wasting feelings like love. But he was greatly mistaken.

The moonlight shone softly from outside through the slightly opened curtains. Keith adjusted your sleeping form in his arms and wrinkled his nose. How could he have sunk so low? He should just kick you out of his bed and go to sleep like everyone else in the palace. He didn't have to listen to your feelings, and he didn't have to agree either when you asked him with tired eyes if you could lie down with him because you were too cold to sleep. He could have just let it go. And yet he held you in his arms because the annoying little voice in his head was forcing him to.

Your quiet voice forced him out of his thoughts. "You're looking at me with those weird eyes again..." You sat up in his arms and blinked at him. Keith was about to pull the covers back over you but stopped himself. Why should he?

"No one is forcing you to stay with me. I can look at you however I want and if it bothers you, you're welcome to fucking leave alone'', came his reply. He tried to sound as emotionless as possible. Why was it so difficult all of a sudden?

He looked into your eyes, searching for something - anything - that remotely resembled rejection or fear. So he could belittle you for it. So that you would finally disappear. So that he didn't have to deal with the feelings he had locked away all those years and now no longer understood. But all he saw in your eyes was something he didn't think he needed. Something he had long detested. All he saw was affection, love and...

Your hand found his cheek and he realized with a start that he had no problem with it. He caught himself chasing the warmth of your hand and laughed listlessly as he stared into your eyes. ,,I cannot believe it. You've made a damn lapdog out of me.'' He took your hand from his cheek and pressed it along with his own onto the mattress next to him. You cocked your head and looked at him with confused eyes, "We both know that's not true, don't we?"

Keith caught his breath. Did you notice him acting differently? Why was it making him so nervous?

He grabbed your shoulders and pushed you away, his brows furrowed. You caught yourself just before the end of the bed and looked up. You were used to this behavior. Keith didn't know how to deal with your feelings and hid behind an arrogant, cold face. But you knew he shared your feelings. He showed it through small acts that went unnoticed by others.

For example, his hand wandering over your head so you wouldn't hit it when you bend down at the table – or when he went into town with you 'because he wanted to go for a walk anyway' and of course not at all to take care of you and to help you carry your groceries. Or right now when he held you in his arms because you were cold and he didn't want you fuck up your sleeping schedule.

You slowly got up and stood in front of his side of the bed. You were lenient with him, but sometimes he just needed a little reminder that you didn't care about his little tantrums. Sometimes he just needed a little more... discipline.

Keith was about to ask what the hell you were doing when you suddenly sat on his chest. Your thighs pushed his arms apart, which you tied to the bedpost with the belt lying on the floor – he had previously carelessly removed it and tossed it there. Keith frowned at you but said nothing. You leaned down and wrapped your hand around his neck, applying light pressure. He continued to look at you silently. It was clear from his eyes that he was aware of the trouble he was in. Under you, in your total control. "You just have to say one word and I'll stop. You know that, right?'' You purred against his lips. The only answer you got was a soft 'fuck off' which made you grin. "I knew you didn't want me to stop. I can see it written all over your face. You hide your feelings and you expect me to accept that? Haha… not quite aware of your place yet, huh?'', you shifted your weight onto his chest a little more and pressed a little harder on his neck, "You're my desperate little lapdog. And I think you're lacking in the behavior department.''

Keith escaped a - most likely unintentionally, whimper and his legs bent slightly. "Ah ah ah'', you released his neck and pushed his legs down, "Stay down".

You slowly looked at Keith lying below you. He was wearing his sleep shirt, which hung half unbuttoned on his chest, and boxer shorts instead of pajama bottoms, which were too warm for him. You slowly began to pull his shirt off and threw it off the bed. Grinning, you stroked his already hard nipples, making him shudder. "Fucking get it on already, don’t sit on your ass teasing me" Keith grumbled, tugging at his restrains. Grinning, you ran your tongue over his naked torso and sucked at his skin over his collarbone. Keith gasped as he could almost feel a dark red bruise forming. You looked at him with an innocent face. ,,Oops, that’ll stay for a bit''

With a quick hand movement his boxer shorts went on the floor next to his shirt. You slowly took his already half hard dick and stroked his tip a little. Keith was visibly trying not to make a sound and glared at you as you stroked his cock up and down painfully slow, your fingertips ever so close to touching him. He pressed his lower body against the bed and turned his head to one side. Grumbling, you grabbed his chin and pulled his face back towards you. ,,You’ll watch me.'', slowly you pulled your shirt over your head and threw it to the small pile of clothes in front of the bed, your pants following right behind. You slowly slid over his cock with your pussy still covered by your panties. Keith bit his lower lip - still confident he wouldn’t give in and stared at your breasts moving slightly in rhythm. Dissatisfied, you pulled his lower lip free from his teeth and gave him a kiss. "You're still holding back. Let go.'' You whispered against his lips and straightened up again. Keith's eyes softened a little, but he remained silent. Sighing, you pulled your panties aside and looked down at him. ,,I'll get you to make noise'', with these words you took him in completely, which elicited a small groan from him. Keith was big - very big. But you didn't mind anymore - it wasn't your first time with him. Keith's mouth fell open and he exhaled heavily. You almost had him.

You slowly began to move, hands heavy on his chest. He breathed heavily in and out, he realized that he couldn't hold back his moans anymore and they spurted out of him like a spitfire. "Fuck, faster m-more...'', his cheeks flushed, and he looked at you with pleading eyes, all his previous resistance forgotten. Grinning, you stroked his chest and rode him faster, one hand wrapped around his neck again as he stifled a groan and thrusted into you from below. His thrusts became increasingly uncoordinated, and you realized he was about to cum. As he got louder and louder, you started to slow down until you suddenly lifted up your hips and his cock slipped out of you. Keith caught his breath and stared at his cock, which was now starting to twitch needily on his stomach. He looked up at you. Your breathing had calmed down again, and you started massaging your breasts – a grin on your face. "You didn't really think I'd give you what you want, did you? After being so cheeky?'' One of your hands wandered down your body to your wet pussy. You slowly rubbed light circles and leaned back so Keith could have a better look while enjoying the show you put on for him. Keith, on the other hand, only grew more impatient. He cursed and growled as he tried to get his cock back into the warmth of your pussy. But he had to watch you helplessly as you made first two and then three fingers disappear inside you, your own orgasm not far away. You groaned and looked at him, tilting your head. "Not so cocky anymore, huh?", you got a growl from him, which quickly turned into a whimper. Keith closed his eyes, only to open them again a few seconds later. "I'm sorry.. p-please..", his voice sounded a lot thinner and shakier than usual. You slowly pulled your fingers out and held them out to Keith. Without hesitating he put them in his mouth and sucked on them greedily. While he was busy sucking, you lifted your hips back over his cock and your pussy folds rubbed along his length. He moaned with your fingers in his mouth and pressed his lower body against yours. You had planned to torment him a little longer, but your own orgasm was not far away and you didn't want to turn this into a punishment for yourself.

It wasn't long before Keith pressed his head against his pillow and came with a loud groan. You weren't far behind him, cumming against the length of his cock. You slowly calmed down and grabbed the belt that restrained Keith's arms. But your hands grabbed nothing. You looked at him with big eyes as you realized that Keith was holding his hands back himself - the belt had slipped behind the bed. You hadn't tied it well enough and he didn’t do anything about it? Your eyes sought Keith's, but he had them closed while slowly breathing in and out. You crawled off him, but his arms immediately shot around your waist to pull you back onto him. "You- you could have just said something, you know?" you grumbled. Keith put his head back on your neck and growled, "Shut up. You're annoying'', he paused briefly and added "not as much as usual tho".

Giggling, you stroked his head and he pulled the covers over you. "I didn't hu- I don't even need to ask, you could have just stopped me yourself if it was too much." You grumbled and Keith grinned slightly. "I could have. Your bondage skills suck.''

You gave him a light slap on the arm, and he exhaled deeply, suddenly a lot less tired than before.

"We can do it again," you pushed yourself free from his grip. Keith glanced out the window and then back at you. "But this time it's my turn." He smirked and shoved you under him.

You both ended up not getting much sleep that night.

#cybird ikemen #ikemen series #ikemen prince #keith howell #keith howell x reader #fem! reader #smut #keith howell x fem! reader

[newhologram]

Life as a high-risk patient during an ongoing pandemic, because it's not "over" for people like me

My dad's sick as a dog after going to a packed music festival unmasked. His whole office is out sick; none of them mask around each other and he stopped masking 2 years ago. He doesn't mask when he leaves his room and is coughing all over our small apartment. He insists it's not covid, but we're out of tests (even colds can fuck me up, so...). He's at least running the air filters on high 24/7 and trying to wipe down surfaces/order more tests, but not masking is obviously a huge problem. I'm a high-risk multi-dx autoimmune (+neuroimmune) patient with a childhood history of chronic bronchitis and pneumonia. For a year and a half now I've been monitored via bloodwork/CT/PET for leukemia/lymphoma since endometriosis/ulcerative colitis have caused enlargement of mesorectal lymph nodes. I'm already screened every 2 years for colon cancer. Endo also facilitates cancer, increasing the risk. I'm still awaiting major surgery to officially diagnose/excise endometriosis which, based on my severe symptoms, is likely invading my ovaries/bowel/bladder/kidneys/nerves/more. I wish they could also just biopsy my lymph nodes while they're in there, but it's apparently too hard to coordinate with my oncologist to do it in the same surgery. I'm doing everything I can to avoid getting sick. Masking in my own home, nebulizing 1-2x a day, keeping windows open and fans on despite the colder weather (so keeping myself as warm as possible), making strong-ass mugwort/mint/cinnamon tea to keep my lungs clear, blending vitamin-rich smoothies with sea moss gel to also support immune function/flush mucus build up, hot steamy mint baths, etc. Thankfully HRT does still seem to be keeping my immune system from over-reacting, but it's always hard to tell if I'm just having a regular flare or if I'm coming down with something. Fibromyalgia/myalgic encephalomyelitis feels like the flu every day anyway. Kind of interesting that I haven't gotten sick once in the past 4 years. Gee, wonder why. I'm so tired of it all falling on me, y'know?

#spoonie #chronic illness #chronically ill #disability #disabled in a pandemic #teku

[mommalosthermind]

went to see the geneticist about that whole cancer thing today so. I’m gonna put a read more, because I tend to ramble, and then I’m gonna fucking shout into the void because American Healthcare would prefer if you’d be so kind as to just shut up and die quickly, please.

Sixty minutes. Sixty minutes I spent with this woman carefully explaining to me how this test would work and why she thinks I should do it. forty of those minutes she said things like, “your family history is… a lot,” “Family is only ten percent of the equation so don’t panic too much,” “But your risk is still probably somewhere around 30% and if this test is postitive that bumps right up to EIGHTY—,” (Insert in-depth but understandable explanation of genes and terms I only half remember now but was fascinating at the time tbh)

I loved her, she was fantastic. And then. And then.

She put down all her files and folded her hands on the table. This woman went from sweet and professional and kind right to the type of bone-deep sorrow that’s got nowhere to go so it builds.

“First, I need you to know that I believe in what we do here. It sounds like this test would alleviate a lot of your concerns, no matter what the results. I do feel that you should get this screening done, for yourself and your kids. However.”

And she stopped, and took a deep breath. “The good news is, we’ve passed a law so that a positive test cannot influence your health insurance in anyway. We’re not even required to give them your results. The problem with that, is the law comes with loopholes. If you come back positive, we are legally required to give that information to certain places upon being asked. And if you do not have these programs already in place, it will be very difficult to get them after a positive, because a positive is considered a pre-existing condition. Life insurance companies. Disability. If you ever need long-term or in-home care. These places will look at that positive and, at the very least, raise your potential rates.” “So,” I said, like an idiot who should’ve known better but was too busy focusing on how this test meant I’d finally fucking know just how worried I should be, “You’re saying that this test, which is preventative care, would make it impossible to get the programs I’d need, if and when I actually get sick.”

“They don’t see you as a person,” she answers. She sounds so fucking tired. She’s said this so often the words have carved grooves into her mouth. They probably don’t hurt anymore, but she looks like she wishes they would. “They’re a business first and only.”

“I’m aware of how capitalism works, yes. I’d apparently forgotten how much it would prefer I die without inconveniencing the system supposedly designed to help me.” Then I apologize for allowing the angry millennial in me control of my tongue.

She just shakes her head. “Honey. I’m right there with you.”

I don’t know what the right answer is here. I don’t HAVE life insurance. We can’t afford it. My partner gets his through the military, which means I’m only eligible if we get hitched. But if we do that, me and all three kids lose healthcare entirely. Stars forbid something actually fucking happens to me. “I can’t tell you the right answer here. All I can do is tell you what I’ve seen happen. There was a woman, not too long ago, who’s got a similar background to you. Small kids and all.” The geneticist looks down at her hands. “I told her the same thing. She decided to go ahead despite not having these programs set up in advance.” She puts both hands up, like she’s warding me off, but you and I already know how this ends. “I have to make sure you know, we did not anticipate a positive at all. At all. But she came back positive, and now she’s having a nightmare trying to set up some kind of life insurance to take care of her kids in case something does pop up.” “You mean they’re turning her away, or asking for insane amounts of money, because they’d rather she die than help. Y’know. Like they’re supposed to. Because the healthcare part of this is caring for my health.”

“You’d think,” She said. I wonder how she sleeps, when she’s pulled so thin. How she can still go to work, when she knows exactly the potential, the help she’s offering, and how the system itself snatches it away from her over and over and over again.

I left with her card in my pocket, and the promise that they’ll get me in for that screening if I call for one. Now, a year, ten years. They’ll get me in. So. Do I fuck myself over now, or wait until the threat of cancer becomes a reality, and get fucked over then? I started this angry. It’s probably pretty clear when that drained right out into tired. I’m so tired. I want to cry. This was meant to give us a better way forward. This was meant to answer questions, and let us know how worried we should be about our kids. This is such a small thing. This is SUCH A SMALL THING. One test. 36 genes. So many cancers, the breast and the ovarian I’m terrified will come for me next, like so many other of my family’s stellar gifts. What is the point of this, if I’m going to end up punished so severely I might be denied actual care over it?

I think, really, what’s got me fucked up the most is that I should have seen this coming. I should have known better. I should not have been waiting to put down all that anxiety because I was so caught up in ‘I’ll KNOW.’

Fucking fuck.

The middle kid’s waiting to hear back on whether or not the insurance has decided he’s allowed to have fucking braces, and I thought I’d get to just know my risks of getting sick without there being a consequence. Specialists are telling me I should be so very worried about my cancer risks.

Ten years to even see her. And I’m back at square one, with a pcp who’s going to look at me in a few months, sidestep all my questions and go, “I thought you were going to try and lose a few pounds? What happened to weight watchers?”

What happened is, I’m counting points and counting calories and counting fucking steps and not losing weight, because the body doesn’t work like that. I might be teetering on developing a fucking eating disorder instead, but that’s between me and myfitnesspal/weightwatchers. But also: my weight is not the fucking problem. This was such a small thing. If I end up actually with the cancer everyone’s spent so long warning me about, what then? When it’s not such a small thing? What are the consequences for us then? THIS WAS MEANT TO BE A SMALL THING. QUICK. EASY. I’m not even fucking sick! THIS WAS A PREVENTATIVE MEASURE.

American healthcare is violence.

If it’s like this and I’m not even sick, how fucking awful is it for people who ARE?

Vote blue down the ballot, in the hopes that some fucking day our healthcare will actually fucking care.

#Momma talks #momma rants #delete later #i needed to pour it out soomwhere so boom. Tumblr. #American healthcare #Went from violent to teary to exhausted in record time. #this was meant to be a small quick thing. A nothing even. #Shouting into the void so I can get it out of my head for five minutes. Apologies.

[sweetbillwriting]

This Is Bad, Billy

Part 6 - Best Friend

Characters: AU Bill Skarsgård, here called Billy. He's inspired by real life Bill but also the character Clark Olofsson in the Netflix series Clark.

Setting: This story is set in the 60s L.A and New York.

Warnings: 18+, historical preferences, mental health problems, mental illness, abuse, suicide, mention of prostitution.

It was surrealistic seeing Billy again. We saw him from far away but at first I couldn't even believe it was him. The velvety hair that earlier had been combed back was now longer and wild around his head, he had a ragged beard but his body also looked broader. He wasn't lanky in the same way anymore. This was a man in front of us and if he had stood up both me and Landon would had probably felt small.

Billy sat in a wheelchair in the sun while Samuel sat on a bench next to him. He had a blanket pulled up to his elbows and leaned back against a neck rest. It didn't look good and I looked at Landon that had seemed to have lost that hippie calmness. He dragged his hands over and over his jacket in a nervous way while watching his friend. Neither of us dared to turn around but none of us were prepared to see Billy like this.

"Hey, so you got to come in, sometimes those young caretakers are slow as hell," said Samuel to us jokingly, but we were not in the mood for joking, we just looked at Billy terrified.

"Yeah… Billy doesn't feel so good today as I thought he would…" said Samuel while we sat down next to him. He instead stood up to angle the wheelchair towards us so we could look at Billy's face. Bill's eyes were focused on something far away while drool ran down his chin and down his bushy beard.

"Oh shit… My friend. Fuck…" said Landon while watching Billy. He had a split lip and some red marks on his neck but the stare was the thing that made you nervous. When Billy lifted up his head from the neck rest and laughed it was almost scary.

"I got you!" Said Billy and tapped Landon with his fist. I sat with glassy eyes and just looked at him while he started to play around and hugged Landon. It was hard to take in; it was all an act.

"Hey… Joanie… Sorry it was just a joke," he said and steered the chair closer to me. It seemed like he did need the wheelchair. I smiled a little and wiped my eyes with my thumbs.

"You're such an… Idiot!" I joked even if the tears wanted to spill.

"I'm sorry, I just couldn’t pass up the opportunity for a laugh," he smiled kindly and I looked at him closely. Under all that hair was still the amazingly handsome Billy. Bright green eyes, full lips and a deep dimple. I could see the scars on his cheeks anyway.

"You should be locked up! …Oh right," joked Landon and hugged his shoulders from behind. It felt like he wanted to straddle Billy's lap if he could. Billy just smirked a little and gave Samuel a quick look.

"Landon, ehh, and Joan. It was a joke but he did have electric shock treatment yesterday so be careful with him," said Samuel and moved Billy's wheelchair so he was next to him again. Landon looked a bit ashamed but I was just interested in Billy.

"Oh… What does that mean?" I asked Billy. "Are you hurting?"

"It was bad. Yesterday night but it's like okay now? I've just got a bad head and neck ache. And like, a tired body I guess?"

I nodded a little even though I didn't really know what he meant. I knew that electric shock treatment could be a good thing but I also knew about people that had never been themselves after it.

"How are you?" Billy asked us both and dragged his shirt sleeves down over his hands.

"Fine dude, come on we just want to get you out of here! Said Landon as he hugged Billy again. Somewhere I had thought it was me and Billy who would have the sweet reunion but Landon's sweet ways took the spotlight and they hugged for a long time, like two brothers.

×××

"Oh, it's from when they're tying me down? Some of the doctors like a fight," Billy said with a smirk and showed off his bruises. They were on his arms and wrists too.

"But that's the only abuse they have given you?" I asked carefully and looked between him and Samuel.

We were still sitting on the bench outside, even if it was drizzling rain. Both Billy and Samuel said that the common room was awful so we believed them. But there was a common room, in the institution me and Billy met was it just a lunch room for the patients.

"It's much better now. So much better now," Billy looked at Samuel with a warm gaze. "Since Samuel came here they don't dare to do as much. But there are a couple… who still like to tie me to the bed a bit too long." Billy smirked as if it was something funny but looked down at his lap. His dark blue pants were a bit big but also too short revealing his bare ankles and wooden shoes. When he saw me look at the shoes he smirked.

"I must have wooden shoes… They believe I will run from them otherwise, like I wouldn't just throw them off if I wanted to run." He said it with a low voice and gave something a look behind me. I turned slowly and saw a doctor at Billy's own age look at us.

"Is he one of the…" I started but Billy interrupted me.

"Yeah, so I'm not a fashion guru exactly, not like you honey." He gave me a charming smile and I blushed, even with the beard he had the same charisma.

"This honey will get you out of here. She has like… Stuff to help get you free," said Landon with a low voice but an excited smile.

"Yeah I heard you needed some money… for a lawyer?" Billy looked at me and leaned forward in the wheelchair. I gave him a blushing smile and nodded.

"And he should talk to a judge so you can get a new deal."

Billy smiled but it slowly faded into a saddened frown.

"That sounds great… But I have some quite unflattering things in my journal…"

"Nothing that will make them think that you should be here. Samuel says the same," I said and nodded towards Samuel. Billy turned to Samuel as if it was his father and only he had the truth.

"You shouldn't be here. You have paid for those crimes you have committed and any psychological treatment you will need you can get outside of the institution."

"Let's just hope it will go better for you than Marilyn," joked Landon. Billy gave him a confused look.

"Oh? You don't know? She killed herself! Or like, self medicated to hell six years ago."

Billy looked between us.

"No? What? Shit, she was so hot! And the happiest girl."

"Clearly not, people say she was depressed as hell. Like you, you know."

Billy just nodded with big eyes. Even if I've read everything I could find about Marilyn Monroe I felt left out. They had been in that world.

"You know, I think she flirted with me when I was like, 24? It was obvious she liked me but didn't dare to take the step, you know I was 'the bad boy'."

"She flirted with everyone! It was her thing!" Said Landon but he sounded a bit jealous. Billy shrugged his shoulders with a smirk.

"I'm 6'3 tall. Women…."

"And now I will interrupt you. Thank you for that immature conversation," Samuel interjected and gave me a quick glance. In his world you probably didn't talk like that in front of a woman, while Landon had asked a prostitute to show her breasts in front of me just a few days before. The generations were so different from each other.

"Anyway, the next step is to plan your case, so I guess the lawyer will come here. Can he come here?" Landon asked and looked at Samuel.

"During the visiting hours, absolutely. But, we should probably not mention that he is a lawyer because… Some of these doctors like to destroy plans…" said Samuel with a low voice.

Billy smiled a little in his wheelchair. He looked hopeful and his eyes were as hypnotic as they used to be in the magazines. He gave me a dimpled smile and winked at me while Samuel and Landon spoke.

×××

Tom Thomas looked so nervous it felt like it infected both me and Landon. He walked through the institution fast and looked over his shoulders over and over, like he thought someone would attack him. The only patients we saw, either stood calmly and looked out through a window or they played cards in uncomfortable-looking chairs by the walls.

"This is… This is interesting. Interesting," he said mostly for himself, swinging his briefcase. Someone screamed in the hallway next to the one we walked through and Tom jumped high then he laughed nervously. Landon and I looked at each other a little bit amused. It was calmer there than at a home for elderly, still the lawyer acted like there were murderers around every corner. When we came around the corner we saw Billy. He wasn't hard to miss with his wild hair, broad shoulders and impressive height. He stood with his back to us, talking with Samuel. He had his hands on his hips and was dressed in a khaki shirt, similar to the one he had on the last time we saw him. He dropped his hip while talking and it made me look at his butt. It had always looked so pert, peachy and alert. Like it waited on receiving a little pat.

"Hmm…" Tom said next to me in a fond tone and I gave him a look. Did he check Billy out?

"The lawyer!" Shouted Billy when he saw Tom and Samuel hushed him down fast. Tom smiled brightly and stretched out his hand towards Bill.

"You look like a lumberjack," he said while Billy took a tight grip around his hand. He smirked at the lawyer and licked his lips.

"I'm just as strong."

Tom laughed a little and raised his shoulders to his cheeks. Landon gave him a weird look. He didn't seem to have understood the thing I had.

Samuel opened a door to a visiting room but Tom stopped me and Landon in the door.

"I'm sorry this is between my client and his…?"

Tom turned to Billy and Samuel for an answer on who Samuel was.

"Dad! Samuel is my dad!" Said Billy and gave Samuel a side hug. I wondered if he had always been so physical, I hadn't seen it those years ago.

"This meeting is just for me, my client and his dad," Tom said even if he thought of calling Samuel Billy's caretakers or even his guard.

At first Landon looked pissed but then he saw Billy smile, so he smiled just as big but I wasn't as pleased. It was my evidence that could make Billy free.

"But we're all a part of this," I tried but Tom shook his head.

"It's okay honey, he just wants to get my story and such things. It's okay," said Billy and smiled comfortingly towards me. I sighed but nodded, this was all for him so of course I would listen.

×××

Landon leaned against the car and smoked. He didn't seem to have anything else to think about other than himself. And his best friend, Billy. I didn't know how he lived, if he had a job or a girlfriend, but he didn't seem to have anything to think about other than himself. I acted like I was as free, but I wasn't. I was a married woman and my husband had started to wonder what I was actually doing.

"But this guy you're trying to save… Why can't you just give the evidence to the lawyer and then come back here?” Daniel said in my ear. He was in L.A., in our hotel room while I stood in a phone booth somewhere in the Bronx.

"No… Em…" I searched in my head for an explanation.

"It's because of my father that he is in that place, I can't just leave him."

"And what did your dad actually do?"

"He lied and said Bill… That the guy had done crimes he hadn't."

"That's serious stuff. What evidence do you have?"

"I have some letters and also… My mom has said she will testify."

"That's amazing. She's so brave," said Daniel in that amazed way he often talked in. I smiled when I heard it.

"Yes… Yes, she is."

"You are too but… This isn't about me being controlling or not believing you can't handle it by yourself, I know you can, but I want to be with you? I will come to New York okay? It feels weird being without you."

His words were so sweet. It was everything a girl wanted to hear but I couldn't stop thinking about Billy's smile and his broad back, leading to that sweet little bum. I sighed deeply.

"We kinda living in the car and…"

"I can find a hotel."

I sighed again. I didn't really have a reason for him to not come.

×××

Daniel was a romantic guy but he was also used to some standards. If I hadn't gotten some interesting friends in my year as a model I would have never learned to eat at dive bars, sleep in a car and use restrooms as my only source of hygiene. I wasn't as relaxed as Landon but I wasn't like Daniel either. For me it was okay to live a bit sloppy the time I was in New York but that changed when Daniel came.

He made the trip to New York into a vacation. Hotel, museums and long walks in central park. He even brought clothes for me so I could be that fashion girl he knew and loved again. Landon gave up on us as soon as he saw Daniel. They might have both been seen as progressives but they were in two different ways.

I played a long but knocked on the door to mine and Landon's rented car a few days later to see if he had some news.

Landon opened the backdoor where he laid in his underwear reading the times. He looked at me from his angle, with his head upside down.

"Oh, they’re having some sort of meeting in a few days. They have contacted your dad," he answered. He started to sit up in the seat to be able to talk to me but stood up when he realized he couldn't find a good position where he could both look at me and sit comfortably.

"Contacted my dad?" It felt like someone stabbed me in the gut but Landon just nodded like it was obvious.

"Your dad, the guy he got the letters from and also some old doctor of Bill’s. It doesn't look so good. It's like the league of old white men without hair."

Landon stood outside of the car and dressed in his same old clothes. I didn't react to his naked skin, he looked similar to Daniel and it wasn't what I really wanted.

"I think I might leave it up to you to support Billy then…" I said and shivered while thinking of my father.

"We can't be there. Bill has already chosen to have Samuel there as his support…" Landon sat down on the car seat with his legs out and looked down at the ground. He looked sour and I could detect jealousy. Of course he wanted to be Billy's support. In his eyes they were best friends but Billy seemed to have a new person in that position.

"So what happens now? For us?" I said and looked down at Landon's dirty feet.

"Waiting. I will visit Billy in two days, to see how it's going. I think you should come with me. Maybe he needs your mom…" said he without looking up. I just nodded. Even if I had known from the beginning what would happen I now had a bad feeling. It would destroy my parents' marriage, my dad's reputation and he would lose his job. Everything for Billy. Was he worth that?

×××

Landon sat in the back of the car when we, two days later, drove to the institution again. I was driving and next to me sat Daniel. I didn't want to bring him, I didn't want to mix my world with him and my world with Billy but I couldn't just leave him. It would have been awful to just leave my husband behind. Landon wasn't amused at all by his presence. Daniel talked about how the institutions could become more humane while Landon just wanted to close them all. It was society making people ill. I sat quietly and thought just of Bill. Maybe it hadn't gone well at all. Maybe my father had used his contacts again to make his life miserable. Driving up to the institution's fence I saw Bill. Once again it was hard to recognize him, this time because he had shaved off the beard and slicked back his hair. He wore a white t-shirt and the big blue pants and smoked just by the fence while two caretakers stood close to him. When he saw us he waved a little and let out a big cloud of smoke from his pouty lips. Daniel was suddenly quiet and I gave him a look. He watched Bill intensely and I wondered if he reacted to his look, on how tall and handsome he was. Maybe he would understand why I wanted to help him.

"Isn't that the actor? He, who was in that movie where he got locked in a basement?" Daniel said and smiled a little.

"Yeah, Billy Skarsgård. He was almost a big name before he got locked up," Landon said while jumping out the car. Daniel looked at me with a big smile.

"Awesome. You didn't tell me he was famous."

I shrugged my shoulders and pretended to be indifferent before jumping out of the car.

A caretaker let us in when they had checked their list of approved guests, when we came in Billy approached us with a big smirk on his lips.

"I think your dad peed himself today! Fuck those letters are good!"

He came up to me and gave me a bear hug. He smelled of sweat but I adored his scent anyway. And his body pressed against mine. What a man he was.

I giggled even if it was a strange thought, my dad peeing himself.

Billy said hi to Landon with a hug and then said hello to Daniel.

"Husband," repeated Billy and turned his eyes towards me. I felt my cheeks heat but just turned my eyes away.

"So what exactly does it say in the letters?" Asked Daniel excitedly.

"Well this Psychologist, he more or less wrote about how they could succeed in lying to the court and which judge they should have. They had planned it well," said Billy. Billy turned his eyes on me and smiled.

"And everything is thanks to you, Janet," he said with a charming smile. I felt my stomach drop when I heard what he called me.

"Joan," corrected Landon quickly in a panic. Billy looked at him while Daniel and I looked at Billy. He smiled a little and then laughed.

"Of course. Of course. Joan!"

I didn't say anything because something with his mannerisms had changed. He may be an actor but I could see that he was trying to hide something. The men around me had continued to talk about the proceeding but I interrupted after having watched Billy a while.

"Do you remember me?"

×

#bill skarsgård #bill skarsgard #fan fiction #writing #story #bill skarsgård writing #bill skarsgård fanfiction #fiction #clark

[deepestuniversallove]

Just a long vent about a specific niche fandom. Don't read if you don't want to hear me rant.

I just need to vent here for a little bit, and I am sorry if this i all incoherent.

I hate what fandom has become. What tumblr has become. What I have become.

I never used to be this way and never used to feel anger before, or jealousy or those 'ugly' feelings, as I was never allowed to. Being raised by a narcissist, you become a people pleaser and you learn quickly that you are never to show any negative emotions. Anger isn't permitted, disgust and unhappiness isn't permitted. As a good slave you don't need to have these emotions, so you learn to supress them to the point where you aren't ever feeling them consciously.

So all of this is so new to me. To actually f*cking hate the guts of some people on here. To fucking hate that they are so damn popular when all they do is shitposting and meme-ing the one that means so much to me to death. And even blocking them won't do a thing because tumblr still shows me their shit, or some fan is gushing about their stuff where I see it, and it just annoys the piss out of me. The tag I used to browse has been rendered useless to me here on tumblr. I long for the days when I was able to just see some nice art of him alone or serious discussions about him, like character analyses, or sharing obscure facts about him.

I don't even know why exactly it pisses me off so much - and I don't want to be the "Fun Police" here; everyone should still be able to do as they please and make whatever the fuck they want on their tumblr blogs, even if it is shitposting. Even if their stories don't make any logical sense at all.

I guess... I just wish Fandom wasn't so dumb with what ultimately are just headcanons. They are taking those stories as if they are canon when they are just fan creations, to the point where they harrass other creators who might come up with other things. For example, if you hate on Mewtwo x Newtwo because it would be "incest", then you are WRONG, because canonically, it was never proven that they were siblings. Canonically, there is no reason to think that Mew is the Mother who actually gave birth to Mewtwo (if you follow the movie-verse, that is. In the games, she did give birth to Mewtwo).

And sure, I realize that me criticising those fan creations is also taking headcanons way too seriously, but... I can't explain it entirely. I just want to be able to state my opinions. Be the one person that isn't always congratulating them on every creation, but also points out the flaws in their storytelling so that they, I dunno, may improve? I am frustrated that I can't even do that - I was told to shut up, or post my opinions on my blog only, probably so that my thoughts aren't seen by anyone and get buried. But I am fucking tired of that. I grew to hate being invisible. I hate making myself small for the benefit of others. Can't I be loud and angry for once in my life? Even if it is on the internet about something stupid? For once in my life, can't I voice my disdain for something after a lifetime of not being allowed to? After AvPD makes this nigh impossible of a feat for me?

One dissenting voice won't harm the popular creators anyway - they have thousands of adoring fans who will wholeheartedly take anything they make and not question it at all. They will go on and create what they want anyway, so what hurt does it do to say "hey, maybe this idea needs some ironing out because it doesn't make sense?"

On another note, I wish that if anyone here has a problem with me to not harrass people that may know me/are friends with me. I saw some anon going around and complaining about me to them - I'd rather you take your complaints to me directly than to them, since they got nothing to do with what I create or do.

For example, I saw someone who told an acquaintance of mine that it is hypocritical of me that I have Babytwos but "attack" others for doing the same. Listen, it is not that others have Babytwos that I critiqued, it's the METHOD of having them via a flower pregnancy when Mew is not a plant type and Mewtwo isn't either. It doesn't make any sense and I should be allowed to say at least that much without getting bullied in turn. That is really all I ask for. Getting Babytwos via cloning, test tubes, artifical insemination at least makes sense. Other than that, go ham and make as many Babytwos as you all want!

I also got told that I am not the owner of Mewtwo the character. Thank you, I know that. Where have I claimed I was? And if I feel a bit possessive over him, well, I got a damn reason for that. He saved me from unaliving myself TWICE. Thus he means a lot to me. I have been in love with him genuinely for 23 years. He is my guiding light. And while it is funny to see the occasional joke with him or a shitpost here and there, if it is constant, it just feels like you are treating him as nothing more than a joke. To me, he isn't a joke, he saved my life. I wouldn't have been posting on tumblr or anywhere at all since 2017 if it wasn't for him. So excuse me if I am a bit possessive over him.

Overall, I just wish people weren't so trigger-happy to take a contrary opinion as an attack immediately. I am not attacking anyone. You will never find me sending any hate DMs or Hate asks to anyone. I don't do that shit.

And if you hate me, you are free to do that too. I know that not everyone likes me. I know there are some people who wish I WAS dead. Or who think that I have ruined Mewtwo for them with my selfship. I mean, I got plenty of "Ew Bestiality" back in the day, if that is any indication. And it's not much of a change in the status quo anyhow. My own parents hate me, I got bullied in school when I was younger, so I am used to being disliked or hated. It used to hurt me back then, but by now I learned that giving a fuck really isn't worth it. I used to want to please everyone and make everyone happy. It used to destroy me when anyone told me they don't like me. Like, it CRUSHED me. But now? I realize that no matter how hard you try, you won't be able to please everyone. Some sadistic fucks may even get off on you trying that and failing. And many people I considered friends only turned out to just use me because of my people-pleasing tendencies.

So, fuck it. If the world is going to hate me anyway, the least I can do is to do whatever the fuck I want and whatever makes me happy. Deal with it.

#fandom vent #venting #rant #monika rants

[livingmydreams13]

La leyenda del hada y el mago

Chapter 1:

Pairing: Francisco Morales x Fem Reader

Rating: +18

Sumary: Frankie's life was a hole black sad until he meets you

Warning: As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

Masterlist // Taglist

You could tell how well she fulfilled Frankie's ex's promise of revenge, or as he called her "evil", he lived in a small town, and in a small town there is no room for secrets, if you told the wrong person something, the next morning everyone would know, Frankie didn't want to be with her anymore, neither of them were happy, but she didn't want to let him go, she called him an "ungrateful loser" she was there for Frankie's drug relapses and that's why she believed she had power over him.

"Who else but me would have held your loser ass...saying encouraging crap so you wouldn't fall again...you need me Francis" but that was what she did, disguising the insults in the form of "encouragement for you to be a better person" but that didn't matter to him and he left her, went to live in his old house, left her the new house for her with all the stuff he had bought just so she wouldn't bother him anymore. Frankie did not go out much, unless it was to buy food, pay bills or do mechanical work with his friend Santiago, with that he made a little money to live, Frankie used to fly helicopters but that was in the past, his drug problems almost destroyed him and he had to give up what he was most passionate about.

Santiago was his only friend in town, the Miller brothers lived far away and Santi convinced him to leave town and go to live near Benny and Will, to start again, but before he wanted to finish fixing his house to be able to put it on sale, Frankie's ex was still spreading rumors of his drug problems and that made some people to look at him in a bad way in the street, that was one of the reasons why he didn't want to go out, Santiago ended up going out with other friends at night to the bar because Frankie didn't want to go out.

The only place he used to go out was to the forest, there was one near the outskirts of the town and there was a certain place where there was a wooden table with chairs attached, and that became his place of peace, he would take food and books or something to distract himself and he could spend a whole day there, he used to go more on weekends when he didn't have to go to work with Santi.

After a month everything seemed quiet for Frankie, there were only a few people who looked at him in a bad way but it wasn't like before and he was used to it anyway.

Santi convinced him after about 50 phone calls to go out to the bar "you deserve to go out and have a drink, have some fun my friend! after hesitating a lot he accepted, the night came and he got ready to go out but someone knocked at the door and it was the police, they took him arrested for a supposed "assault" and he already knew what it was all about, yes, it was her, did she pretend that Frankie had reached the limit of hitting her? yes, yes, she did, did she convince someone to hit her to make it look more real? Yes, he did.

Santiago arrived at the police station, trying to fix things, but inevitably Frankie would have to spend the night there.

After being all night talking to the cops and showed them evidence and brought one of the guys he works with that Frankie was that Thursday that he supposedly had "beaten" her, Frankie was working all day, even he left much later, almost at 1 in the morning, and the security cameras could prove it, she said it was around ten at night but it was not true, the cops tried to make her tell the truth of who had done it but she kept saying the same thing. The evidence was evident and they let him go.

Santiago was furious, Frankie was waiting in the car and he looked tired and with a totally empty look on his face, and he didn't say anything.

"Why can't you leave him alone? you're a fucking crazy woman" she just laughs as she got into her car.

"He will never be happy, if he is not with me the only thing he will have is misery".

Santi watched as she walked away and started walking angrily to his car, Frankie was sitting silently.

"Take me home" Santi looked at him as he started the car.

"You can come home if you want and.."

"I just want to be alone"

"I don't want to leave you alone buddy"

"Don't worry I'll be fine"

Frankie quit his job, he started to spend most of the day in the woods near the town, he would bring food and spend the night there, doing nothing or reading, Santiago would go there a couple of times to try to cheer him up a little, to try to get them to move, to go live somewhere else, to go where his other friends the Miller brothers were, but Frankie did not want to do it anymore, he felt that they would follow him wherever he went, he felt cursed.

He didn't understand why she did it either, he was always understanding and patient with her, he knew about her family problems and that she could be a bit aggressive but he put up with everything because he really loved her and yet she made his life impossible, she managed to sink him completely.

Two weeks passed after the incident, and as it had become recurrent, Frankie was preparing everything to spend another day in the forest, only this time because Santiago was working, she had already spread the rumor of how "bad" Frankie was and of course many believed him and he only received bad looks from his neighbors, but that did not matter and he left, The morning passed quickly and he spent it reading and writing, until he began to hear noises, it was as if someone was running, he didn't think much of it, it could be other people walking around, but he heard the noises again and they were closer and closer.

"Who's there?" Frankie shouted, trying to sound angry in case it was something else.... Footsteps could be heard closer, Frankie stood up to take a better look around.

"If anyone tries to fuck with me, I'm warning them it's not a good idea" no one responded.

Until he saw in the distance someone running in his direction and as he got closer he saw who it was, a girl who looked a little scared, clearly did not see him and ran straight to Frankie stumbling and falling, the girl looked at him a little scared and agitated.

"Hey... are you ok?" Frankie held out his hand, she looked back but seeing no one she went back to Frankie and took his hand so she could get up.

"Hey are you okay? Why were you running?"

"I...someone started chasing me and it was...scary, sorry."

"It's okay, don't worry" Frankie looked around but didn't see anyone, after a few minutes he realized that I was still holding his hand, and he looked at it again a little more carefully and thought he saw the most beautiful woman in the world, he restrained himself by not starting to act weird so as not to scare you, you had enough that someone was chasing you a few minutes ago.

"Wow, looks nice everything you put together here.." and he gave her a smile, the warmest, most beautiful smile Frankie had ever seen.

"I don't want to bother you, I'm so sorry, I'd better keep walking and find a way out."

But frankie didn't want her to leave.

"Wait... you were running and you must be a little tired, you can sit down if you want, I have water over here."

"Really?" And he flashed his smile again and frankie just melted.

"Yeah... stay, it's not safe for you to come back alone, I can walk you when you want to go" and another smile, Frankie couldn't breathe anymore.

"God I... thank you, you're the nicest person I've come across these past few weeks" he watched her sit up and breathe a little, she was still a bit shaken and Frankie gave her her water. She kept smiling at Frankie and he felt strangely a little happier, it was like a break from all those people looking down on him.

That was the beginning of the fall .

#frankie morales x reader #triple frontier #frankie x reader #frankie catfish morales #francisco morales #frankie morales #francisco morales x reader #frankie baby #francisco morales x you #frankie morales x f!reader

[stormyoceans]

hello monica! i love reading your thoughts (you got me hyperventilating every time you write about vegaspete god i can't fucking wait for them!) but i wanted to know what do you think about kim, like do you think he's actually falling for porchay already? or do you think he's just playing and entertaining the thought of this adorable boy having a crush on him? it's that move of telling him he will be waiting for the song and then literally ghosting him that has me confused, so maybe thus far he's just playing no feelings involved yet? ugh kim is such a mysterious guy i would PAY to know what he's thinking! anyway, that's that, please keep sharing every thought you have about vegaspete because we're gonna need all the extra content we can get

AAAAAAAAAA im so happy you like my messy vegaspete posts, anon!!! i have no idea how it happened but these two took over my life and are consuming my brain, and i guess i just decided to make it everyone’s problem skfgdskfg so it’s nice to know im not being TOO annoying with it ;;;;;;

now, about your questions.. personally, i do think there already are feelings involved on kim's part, but at the same time i believe that he doesn't really recognize them for what they are (which is pretty funny considering he was the one to ask chay if he's never been in love). the thing is.. kim got closer to chay to find information about porsche, and what he found instead was this sweet genuine boy who adores his brother and looks at kim with love and admiration in his big bright eyes.. and it may be an unpopular opinion, but I don’t think kim really knows what to do with that. even after meeting chay a couple of times, he was still waiting for the other shoe to drop. he sneaked into chay's room in episode 6 expecting to discover who knows what in there, probably some big shady secret, because that's what kim's life has always been like – just lies and deceit at worse, half-truths at best – but there was none of that. what there was, it was just yet another proof that, with chay, what you see is actually what you get (and if what kinn sees in porsche is the freedom he was never allowed to have, then kim definitely sees in chay that sincerity he’s never really got from anyone in his life)

the moment he saw the small shrine in chay’s room, i think kim felt very flattered by chay’s crush on him, and also very fond of this boy who wears his heart on his sleeve and can’t lie even when he tries to, so when kim asked chay to write a love song and told him he was going to look forward to hear it, i do believe he meant those words, he wasn’t just playing with chay’s feelings. the problem is that the warm feelings he has when he’s around chay painfully clash with the coldness of the world that, as much as he tries to run away from it, is still very much a part of him. i can so easily see kim getting back to his big empty flat after that afternoon spent with chay, looking himself in the mirror, and going ‘kimhan theerapanyakul, what the fuck are you doing’, because he KNOWS he can’t get attached, he KNOWS he shouldn’t be leading chay on when he will eventually have to disappear from chay’s life

that’s what his actions in episode 8 were to me, an attempt to put some distance back between them, hoping that at one point chay would get tired to call and run after him. deep down, though, kim knows that’s not gonna happen and that eventually he will have to make clear to chay that they can’t see each other again, and he knows it’s gonna hurt. but here’s the thing.. he knows that it’s gonna hurt for chay, but he has no idea how much it’s gonna hurt for HIMSELF as well. i think the saying ‘you never realise the value of something until it's gone’ is very true in their case, because i do believe kim won’t realize just how deep his feelings for chay run until chay isn’t going to be around anymore, bringing warmth into kim’s world

so yeah, tl;dr: i fully believe kim’s already falling for chay, he is just not aware of it yet

#..be honest with me anon does this make any sense #i feel like im so bad at words and analysis but at the same time i could talk about kinnporsche for DAYS #the struggle is real #but yeah i hope this makes sense!! #like.. i do want porsche to kick kim's ass but at the same time im fully aware that kim pushing chay away will hurt kim so much #kim is literally playing himself and digging his own grave and doesn't even realize it yet #i mean i definitely want to see him begging chay for forgiveness but he is going to punish himself enough #im just making it worse with these tags im gonna shut up now #kinnporsche the series #kimchay #kim theerapanyakul #porchay kittisawasd #m: ask

[shinigxmi-muses]

[ I was intending to get back to replies ASAP, but apparently I have to take a small break and do a PSA, all in one. I just. Can't believe this happened twice in a single year; only a few months apart...

For those who don't want to be involved in any drama/not wanting to bother reading it- (No judgement; I wholly understand.)

TL;DR: I tend to keep my private life and RPC blog content separate, these days. Unless I want to give a heads up, I'm really moving away from the life-update kinda stuff... However, it is something entirely different when you bring your personal beliefs of other peoples' lives onto my dashboard. ESPECIALLY which applies to me.

I will unfollow. I will block. This is my space to relax and have fun. Have your opinions all you like; I intend to care for my own mental health. ]

Okay, with that out of the way... Context. (But kept in vague terms, as I've already unfollowed + blocked what caused me stress today. If you know, cool, but. I'm not "calling anyone out" or what have you. Just saying "this is how I feel, I'm not arguing it, we'll be moving on after this.")

For the SECOND time this year, I've had to find out a mutual has anti-polyamory sentiments. And I get it. Some people have bad experiences with it or know someone else who did. Maybe you just personally don't agree with it. You're monogamous, intend to stay that way, don't care. Whatever it is, I don't have problems with that.

I have problems when it's on my fucking dashboard. I have problems when there's lies being spread that it only could ever be harmful and/or abusive in nature. That it "ruins" relationships and puts children through pain. I also have EXTRA problems when someone can't even own up to having anti-polyamory views, and deletes the posts after making them. (I'm salty over this, yes. Let me have my moment.)

If not obvious already, I am polyam, and so is my partner. We're a duo rn, and not really looking to change that...but open, as we've ever been. I know my limits; I'm probably down for a third, and then no more. Aside from that, I crush wildly, and my boyfriend supports it and teases me about it. (I also do the same to him, LMAO.)

Again, it may not be for everyone. But it's taught me to communicate better. I've learned more about myself. Any relationship failings have never been on polyamory itself; just that we weren't ready or it was the wrong time, like any other relationship.

BUT!!! And this is my major thing... If you don't like it, cool. I don't care; put it on MY dashboard, however, and that's where we have problems. I once again state: I am NOT here to indulge in daily news. To post my opinions. To share my life. If I want to, I have separate sideblogs for that. All connected to my main, away from my Fun Place.

It stressed me out, to start. Totally blindsided me, and I felt like shit. Now? If not yet obvious: I'm pissed. I'm one of those people where I am just as polyam as I am nonbinary or demisexual: that is unarguably me. I've always been this way, but was given words for it from one of my partners. I'm happy this way.

Anyways. Final note/thoughts: Again, believe whatever makes you happy. Live your life and your truths. But I will block if more of this shit ends up in my sphere. I'm not having it.

Oh, and feel free to block me if you disagree, as well. Sucks to lose people over personal matters, but I'm sick and tired of having MY nice things trampled over by other people.

#Mun speaks #[ I had my shower and am VERY sleepy ] #[ but needed to get this out there ] #[ being on my dash SUCKS rn ] #[ even tho I got things squared away already... ] #[ anyways going forward... ] #[ likely give a few ask prompts rbs ] #[ aaand then zero in on RP replies ] #[ it'll give my brain a break from all of this ] #[ PLUS!!! I gotta do a belated bday post for Kaguya!!! ] #[ hers was on the 15th! ]

[cryptiles]

hi! could i please req a obey me matchup?

im 5'2, she/her, straight i have long black wavy/kinda curly hair, a septum piercing, blue eyes, apart of the itty bitty community lol but i make up for it in ass. im very quiet around new people (i barely speak if idk you and pretty much go mute around large groups of people idk) but once i get comfy around you I'm very sarcastic, and cracking jokes all the time. i really enjoy cooking for people i care about, watching Disney movies with my kids, spending time outdoors and smoking the devils lettuce, well i typically smoke dabs but yk what i mean. i hate soup (it is a sad chunky beverage not a meal okay?) i don't really have an ideal date, as long as im spending time with my loved one i dont care what were doing. what attracts me to someone is if they're funny, loving and make me feel safe oh and my name is ivy

•❅────────✧❅✦❅✧────────❅•

MATCH-UP FOR IVY

— details ; obey me x no stated gender! reader ; match-up based ; obey me m.list ; she/her

— requests are open as of 23/8 —> 11 match-ups left

— a/n : hello hello sorry this took so long 🏃‍♀️ but like same i only drink soup if it’s really fucking good if not it’s a fat no from me 😻 also i fucking love your username.

•❅────────✧❅✦❅✧────────❅•

and for this particular soup hater i match them with … mammon !!

• i have so many ideas okay.

• he would love your septum piercing and would impulsively go get one just to match with you.

• this man would definitely 100% smack your ass in the hallways of the house because he’s like that.

• if you’re uncomfortable with it he’ll stop immediately and start apologising and overthinking everything. [ he’ll be contemplating the meaning of life and may even drop low to pray to whoever is in the celestial realm that you don’t hate him ]

• this man is so god damn funny so its a regular that you guys will be cracking jokes and have many laughing fits.

• and they’re LOUD.

• y’all are shaking , huffing and puffing down the centuries year old house.

• and causing everyone in there headaches but to be honest y’all are comedians so they’ll probably let it slide since they overheard your jokes and had a laugh.

• of course mammon is such a family man , disney moves or any movies or any activity with you and your kids is an absolute must for him.

• he religiously drops everything he’s doing and joins y’all for movie nights.

• oh god everytime you cook for him he melts because you care about him ?? hand in marriage rn.

• he probably finds it lowkey funny that you hate soup and describe it as a sad drink.

• depending on his mood , he may or may not tell beel , if he does … well just run.

• mammon will be laughing at y’all as you try to defend your opinion on soup and beel will be arguing on how its good.

• this man is already clingy as hell since he realised his feelings so spending them with him everyday would be no problem.

• he’s always with you anyways , barging into your room , texting you every second of the day , getting you to go out with him. [ as friends according to him 😒 ]

• he may not express his love through words but through facial expressions , gifts and gestures everyone can tell he loves you so much it genuinely hurts.

• he’s constantly saying things like “ the great mammon will protect you ! “ etc etc and he shows it.

• pulling you close in big crowds and quickly guiding you to a less populated area , starts holding your hand in public [ despite the numerous amount of times he still has a small blush on his face ]

mini scenario !!

“ man that damn photoshoot was tiring as hell ! plus i had to stay back for extra classes , today sucked and i’m drained .. “

mammon complained plopping himself down onto the comforts of the soft couch.

he laid his head on your shoulder , usually he wouldn’t do this but today he was so drained he didn’t have the mental strength to care anymore.

“ you hungry ? “

“ starving … “

“ i could cook for you , your favourite if you want. “

you offered , mammon immediately sat up straight and gave you a raised eyebrow.

“ i don’t see you in the kitchen other than when you’re for kitchen duty. “

“ that’s because you don’t see me cook. i only cook for special people and i’m offering to cook for you now. the deal is on the table for the next minute. “

“ … wait you think i’m … special ?? “

“ yeah is that not what i implied- oh my god please don’t cry. “

“ I’M NOT CRYING ! YOU ARE ! “

“ THEN ARE YOU PISSING THROUGH YOUR EYES ? “

•❅────────✧❅✦❅✧────────❅•

© 2022 cryptiles. please do not repost / translate my work and post it to other social media websites without permission , thank you.

#obey me #obey me x reader #obey me fluff #obey me x you #requests are open #shall we date obey me #mammon x reader #matchups

[popculturebuffet]

Watchmen Issue By Issue: The Darkness of Mere Being

Hello all you happy people. The clock ticks down closer to midnight as I continue my retrospective of the watchmen going over it issue by issue. And after two issues that while not bad felt more like moving the plot along, we have one final issue of introspection before we enter the final fourth of the story and go full steam ahead toward armageddon.

LAST TIME ON WATCHMEN: Laurie and Dan busted Love Shach out of prison. He was graceful and curtious and ...

Yeah he was an ungreatful back of dicks inside a neat outfit as always. But as the Police Planned to storm Dan's apartment, Dr. Manhattan returned to grab Laurie for some mysterious reason... and wasted their time chasing Dan and Shacha Escaped Con while across town Hollis Mason sadly died in one of the saddest fucking scenes in the comic

I mean I was a bit hard on the cops, i get Dan broke a man out of prison, but frankly the prison population would be down to zero by thursday if he hadn't. You have to at least give him that

So that brings us to "The Darkness of Mere Being" our final issue, if I remember right, going into a characters backstory. This one though harkens back to "Absent Friend" Where ther'es both copius flashbacks and an important present day storyline

In this case Laurie is trying to convince Jon to save humanity. And I didn't even realize till I started writing that this whole conversation between the two.. was foreshadowed in issue ONE

Obviously Dr. Manhattn isn't ghost written by tucker carlson, but the same scenario happened: The world's problems backed up on itself and when it begs for a savior, the savior whispers back "No". Jon is tired of us fucking ourselves over and is ready to just watch the natural phenomina of mars in peace.

It dosne't help that his sense of time means to him this conversation ends with Laurie in tears apparently leaving. To him this is a formality: he's having the conversation because to him it already happens. He casually brings up Laurie sleeping with Dan, only to say she'll tell him later.. then acts shocked and betrayed when it does because it's the part he plays. To John Ostrander fate isn't just a concept, it's fact. It's who he is. As he puts to Laurie in one of the best lines of the entire comic, another one tha'ts been quoted nonstop for good reason:

It explains why Jon can be so cold and detached : Why care about humanity.. when the first woman you truly loved will be someone you cheat on and leaves you and the scond will also leave you because they can never really understand you. I can't blame either woman mind you, but to Jon he's just stuck and has just accepted that things will happen. He can't fight it, he can't stop it he just has to go with it and has moved on from it, finding the pleasures in the splendeor of mars and leaving humanity to it.

And admist this though.. is something that reawakens his humanity. We get flashbacks summing up Laurie's life that helped me like her slightly more as a character: We see her as a small child watching her parents marriage crumble with the clear implication Sally slept with the comedian.. before her soon to be ex step father beats poor Sally. We see Sally train to become the next silk spectre and get a hint that something far worse happened to her mom. We see her hit it off with the comedian as friends before her mom yanks her away assuming he has bad plans for her.. which.. fair. I mean he just wants to see his daughter. And finally we see her throw a drink in the assholes face.

All these pieces add up to one hell of a reveal, but one that had small hints as early as issue 2: Eddie.. was Laurie's father. Back in issue 2 it was clear Sally forgave him.. but now we see just how much. It's supremley fucked up and leads to said tears... and once again shows our heroes as puppets. Laurie tried her best to say fuck you to fate all issue, trying to stop the conversation multiple times or fight anyway.. but in the end she coudln't. All she can do is cry realizing she's the daughter of two people hse hates: an attempted rapist and serial murderer and the woman who somehow loved him despite all that, the woman who pushed Laurie where she is now.

And yet despite again being hall of fame fucked up and one hell of a twist.. it also leads to a truly beautiful moment. One of the most beautiful moments in all of comics.

It's a simple, powerful message: We all are miracles. It took a billion things going right to get us here, a billion more for everything to get where we are...and yet we are. We may screw up, we may fuck up constantly but we are still here. We matter. And we are not alone. Next Time: I"m too busy crying we'll see won't we? Thanks for reading.

#watchmen #laurie juspeczyk #doctor manhattan #mars #dc comics #alan moore #dave gibbons

[lonestarbabe]

Eye of the Storm

Chapter 12: The Darkest Hour

[AO3]

T.K.’s day starts as gloomy and claustrophobic. There isn’t much light, and the darkness doesn’t go away when he cracks his eyes open to start his day. He starts his routine, and it doesn’t do anything for him, but that doesn’t stop him from going through it anyway. Your life isn’t that bad. Suck it up and do the right thing. This is just how things have to be.

He hates this. He won’t admit it, but his life is just one terrible day after another. He never feels good, and he always feels bad. He doesn’t know why he keeps doing the same old things and expects that somehow if he tries harder, he will feel better. Life is so gray, but he thinks gray is better than bright and unpredictable.

T.K. opens the fridge. He knows he has to eat, but nothing in the fridge is right. It’s all too many calories, and the static in his head is so intense and irritating that he slams the fridge door just to hear something louder. He closes the door. Nope. Now’s not the time for eating. He decides his time will be better spent on a run. It’s a good use of energy, and maybe it will make it easier to have an actual meal or at least some kind of food.

He doesn’t know how long he runs, but he keeps going until he’s too exhausted to run any longer, and he’s too tired to have as many intrusive thoughts as usual. He doesn’t know if he’s ready to eat. It seems counterintuitive to eat right after a run. Because that’s just a waste of a run. You know better.

When he gets home, he’s thinking about whether he should at least have something small. He knows Carlos is worried, and it will be better if he can honestly say that he’s eaten something when Carlos asks.

But he doesn’t get the chance to go to the fridge to see if there’s anything he can eat because when he opens the door, the whole 126 is in his living room, sitting in a circle. He freezes in his place. He considers turning around and running away, but it’s too late. He doesn’t act fast enough. They’re looking at him expectantly, and he knows this won’t go well. His heart sinks further when he sees that his mom is there too.

“What’s the occasion?” he tries to ask, stupidly hoping that the occasion might be something other than him being a fuck up. Because maybe he’s been fooling them enough to make them think he was acting more like his normal self. Not that your normal self is worth being.

“We’re worried about you,” Owen says, and T.K. takes that one personally. My dad doesn’t have any right to lecture me when he’s ten times worse.

“I’m fine, Dad.” He tries to keep his anger in and gestures to everyone. “I’m glad you care, but I don’t need whatever this is.”

“You’re not fine, T.K.,” his mom says, and he can’t look her in the eyes because he can’t stand that sad look on her face, and he can’t believe his mom came all this way just because she thinks he needs some kind of intervention.  You don’t have a problem. I have a whole pile of problems. But we’re working on making them better. You just need to be patient, and this will all pay off.

“Why are you all here?”

“T.K., please, just sit down,” Carlos says, taking T.K.’s hand. T.K. feels too guilty to tell Carlos no, so he does sit, but he doesn’t do so happily. He sits between his parents with Carlos nearby, looking fidgety and on edge. “We just want you to get better.”

“I’m not sick.” He knows that the things he does aren’t normal, but they’re choices he makes.

Carlos turns to Michelle, nodding at her. “Do you want to summarize some of the health effects of eating disorders?” Seriously? A lecture. As if I don’t already know everything they’re going to say. It’s pretty pathetic that they’re trying to scare you into doing what they want. You’re not going to let them control you. You have to stand your own ground. Be a man. Make your own decisions.

“Don’t call it that.” He hates those words, and he doesn’t like that everyone is suddenly weaponizing them to make him change. Don’t listen to them. They don’t know anything about what you need. They don’t understand you like I do. “I’m not in danger or anything.”

Michelle’s voice is soft but firm. “I don’t need to tell you all the risks, but you can’t deny that there are risks. Organ failure, tooth decay, hair loss, hormone issues, and death are just a few of the physical effects of not eating properly. That’s not to mention the mental impacts of an eating disorder.

“I’m not going to die,” T.K. insists. You’ll know when to quit. You won’t let this hurt you. “I’m not going to take it that far.” You’ll take it as far as I tell you. He needs them to know that he knows what he’s doing. He’s choosing to do it despite knowing what could happen.

Mateo looks at Michelle so sincerely that T.K.’s almost ready to give in to any demand. Don’t get all weak on me. You’ve got to stay strong. They’re not in charge of you. They don’t know you better than you know yourself. “Can he really die from this?”

Michelle nods to Mateo, but her eye contact doesn’t leave T.K. “It’s a deadly condition. And the problem is that you can’t know you’ve taken things too far until it’s too late. You may not think it’s that bad, but that doesn’t mean it’s not bad enough to do permanent damage.”

“See, son. This is serious. You can’t keep telling us that you’re okay when you’re clearly not.”

“I can tell you whatever I want,” and he sounds so petulant, but he doesn’t know how to convince them that he’s fine because there’s no way that he’ll be able to change their minds. He’s got to mitigate the damage before it splits his life apart in ways he can’t fix.

“T.K.,” Judd said, “we just want you to feel better. You haven’t been like yourself lately. We barely see you around. You’re always skippin’ meals or team gatherings. We miss having you around.”

“I’m around all the time, Judd. We work together.” He hates how cold his voice sounds. These people are his family and the best friends he’s ever had, so why can’t he be nice to them for even five seconds? Because they are attacking you. They aren’t being fair to you, so it’s no wonder you’re trying to put them back in their place. You’re doing what you need to do to survive this, and there’s nothing wrong with that.

“It’s not the same,” Marjan says. “You’re distant and distracted. That’s not sustainable, and you can’t enjoy that.”

Paul adds, “You’re part of our family, man. It’s not the same when we’re making meals, and you’re running in the other direction. We want you to be happy and healthy because you’re important to us as individuals and as a team.” Don’t let sentimentality ruin your resolve.

T.K. crosses his arms. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

Owen gives him a classic dad-knows-best-look. “We want you to take steps to get better.”

T.K.’s mom reaches her hand over and gives him a reassuring smile. “You got through your addiction, and you’re going to get through this too.”

“This isn’t like my addiction. I’m not spiraling out of control. I can handle this. This is nothing.”

“Really?” Carlos finally says. He’s been letting the others talk, but he’s on his feet now. “I thought you were handling it before. But you haven’t done anything to change. I don’t know how to trust you. Half the time, I hope that you really are getting better, but the other half of the time, I think you’re just getting better at lying.”

“I only lie to you when I know you wouldn’t understand.”

“What’s there to understand? You barely eat, and when you do, you throw it up or exercise it off.” Carlos gestures to T.K.’s running sneakers. “By the looks of things, you just went on a run. And since there are no dishes in the sink. I’m guessing you didn’t eat before you went.”

T.K. rolls his eyes. “I wasn’t hungry yet. That doesn’t mean I’m not eating enough.”

Carlos’ brown eyes rage. “Are you kidding me right now? You’re always trying to rationalize your behavior and trying to make everyone around you that it’s somehow normal. But it isn’t normal to be afraid of food. It isn’t normal to skip breakfast and lunch and then say ‘Why not skip dinner.’ None of this is normal, and you know that, even if you won’t say it out loud. If you thought this was normal or okay, you wouldn’t try to hide it all the time.” T.K. feels like the scum of the Earth for making Carlos so upset.

Gwyn puts a hand on Carlos’ arm, “Why don’t we try a different approach?” Carlos takes a breath and nods, but he still stands, clearly tense. “You’re hurting yourself, honey, and we’re all just really scared for you.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” T.K. asks, and he can’t contain it anymore— those feelings that he pretends aren’t there. He doesn’t even care about hiding anymore. He can do what he wants, and he wants everyone to know that they aren’t the boss of him. And yeah, he’s had outbursts about his problem before, but not like this, not when everyone is watching him and the truth of what has been happening is finally in the open. “I’m the one who’s doing it.” He feels his anger taking over, and he hates this bitchy side of him that wants to hurt people in a bad attempt to protect himself.

Hold your tongue before they think you’re crazy. But he doesn’t hold his tongue. T.K. knows talking too much is a bad idea, but he’s never been good at controlling his emotions and not losing it when he feels like the world is closing in on him. “It’s not like I enjoy feeling terrible about myself and having this whole secret life that I can’t talk to anyone about. This is just how my life is, and you can want me to change all you want, but I need this.”

“You don’t need this, T.K.,” Owen says. “What you need is to eat.”

“And I do eat.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Yeah, and it doesn’t help that you keep trying to coerce me into eating the way you want me to eat. Besides, you’re the one who barely even touches a carb, but then you think I should be eating all of them.”

“I’m not risking my health,” Owen points out. “We’ve been over this.”

“My point is that what I’m doing isn’t that crazy. Diets are all around us. People are always counting calories and limiting foods, but suddenly, when I’m doing it, everyone has a problem.” T.K. knows his arguments don’t make sense, but he’s not going to let them go. Nothing in life makes much sense, so why would this make sense? There’s no consistency in his thoughts. He feels like he doesn’t even know what the truth is, and he doesn’t know how to deal with that.

“You can’t equate a diet with what you’re doing,” Carlos says, “and you know that.”

“I know! What’s the point of this, anyway? We’re just talking in circles. We keep having this same conversation, and it’s just so exhausting. There’s not going to be anything productive to come from this.”

“Do you actually have any will to get better?” Carlos asks. He sounds heartbroken but not surprised.

“No,” T.K. answers honestly because, at this point, lying isn’t going to do any good. “I guess I don’t. I want to make you happy, but I don’t know that I can change. I don’t know if I want to change.” Maybe when his head is over the toilet, and he feels like the grossest human alive, he wants to change. But when it comes to actually changing, it’s hard to say he has much desire to do anything differently.

“We just thought it would be a good idea to check in with you,” his mom says. T.K.’s honestly surprised she hasn’t dragged him to a treatment center to sort this out. But maybe even Gwyn Morgan doesn’t know how to solve this problem. Maybe she knows that T.K.  doesn’t have the motivation he needs to change.

“We want to help,” his dad adds, and the whole room nods along like a bunch of fucking bobbleheads. You’re not going to listen to them. They don’t know what you need. They can’t make you happy with their promises of getting better. This isn’t like when you were addicted, so don’t let them treat it like it is.

“I don’t need your help. I don’t want your help.”

“You’re killing yourself, you know that, don’t you?” Michelle says.

But he doesn’t know that, not with certainty. Sure, he knows it’s a possibility, but it’s not like it’s a sure thing. If it was a sure thing, the choice would be easy. He feels the way his body isn’t right, but it isn’t like he’s in the hospital. He doesn’t feel like he’s wasting away. For the most part, he still feels okay. Each day, he gets up and functions as a human being. He can’t possibly be that sick. Not yet.

“And so what if I am?” T.K. challenges. “It would be my decision to make."

“Don’t say that,” Carlos pleads. “We need you here, alive and well.”

Owen adds, “Please, just eat some more food,” and that’s just about the least helpful thing he can say.

“More food? You think this is about more food? This isn’t even about food.” Everyone looks kind of confused because no matter how much he tries to explain this monster in his head, unless they’ve been there, it’s so hard to understand how the food is the symptom, not the disease. “If this was about the food, I would have stopped a long time ago. It wouldn’t feel like I’m poisoning myself each time I try to have a meal. Food wouldn’t feel like failure, and meals wouldn’t equal fear.” They’re all looking at him like he’s crazy. “This isn’t about food or looks or whatever else you all think. I don’t know what it is about. Everything else, I guess.”

“Whatever it’s about,” Carlos says. “You need to work it out, and I don’t care how you need to do that, but I want a life with you, and that’s not going to happen unless you deal with whatever is eating you.”

“I don’t know what to do anymore. I just know I can’t stop.”

“If you can’t stop, you aren’t in control,” Paul points out.

“Maybe not, but as long as I know what to expect, I don’t need to be the ones pulling the strings.”

“That’s dark, man,” Judd says.

“Everything’s dark,” he says, even though daylight still warms the room. “But this thing I have, these things I do. They don’t feel so bad. It feels like something to hold onto in the void.”

No one knows what to say to that. They don’t know how to help T.K., and they don’t know what to do next. Carlos can’t even ease the tension with an array of snacks. There’s a hopeless weight that covers them. Getting out of this feels like an impossible battle, a storm that just won’t go away. The question lingers, “Is this the darkest hour? Will this give way to light? Or will it only lead to deeper darkness?”

In the darkest hour, the clouds hang overhead, and you don’t care to see the sun. You think it might be better this way, all that darkness slowly consuming you. You forget that the light even exists. It’s been so long since you’ve felt the warmth of the sun that you think that going out into the sun will immediately burn your sun-shy skin. The darkness is so alluring. It tempts you to reach your hand in. It promises to hold you in its void, protecting you from the burn of being alive. The darkest hours don’t seem so dark until they are over.

#911 lone star #911 lone star fic #My writing #Elise Writes #My Fics #wip #eye of the storm