#I have to delete them but nothing can stop me from sending them here

[admiringlove]

[14:33] . . .

you’ve never cared much for summer. it clings. not just the sweat or the gnats or the grime you can’t quite scrub off your ankles, but something heavier. like humidity in your chest. like memory in your throat. summer makes your head ache. it makes your heart dull. maybe it’s the way the cicadas scream like they’re dying. maybe it’s the heat that presses down on your shoulders like a hand. or maybe it’s the fact that fushiguro megumi entered your life on a day exactly like this one—thick with light, heavy with something unspeakable.

you wipe the sweat off your brow with the back of your wrist. it smears against your skin, dampening the top of your jean shorts. he doesn’t say much as the two of you move box after box into the dorms, but you hear the breath leave him in small, barely audible huffs. like this is a chore. like being here is a penance.

technically, you knew him. same middle school. same hallways. same vending machines. same summer uniforms clinging to sweat-slick spines. but you wouldn’t have said you grew up with him. more like you grew up near him. adjacent. parallel. always orbiting his silence, which is where you eventually learned to find comfort: in things unspoken. he was one of those boys who never looked like he belonged where he was. something about the eyes. something about the stillness.

and then came the vending machine. the boys with their hands in your pockets. your voice gone hoarse from telling them you didn’t have anything, not today, not this time. the metallic clatter of a soda can hitting the floor. megumi showing up out of nowhere, back then still sharp-jawed and frowning too much for his age. they’d left you alone after that. you weren’t sure what he’d said to them. you never asked. you just followed him like gravity. like he was your own.

it lasted for a while. a friendship, or something like it. something that lived between classes and creases in time. but then, right before middle school ended, it cracked. and he said something you haven’t been able to get out of your head ever since. something that returns in the quiet moments like a shard you keep cutting your tongue on: “i didn’t ask for you to follow me around. you’re just always there. like a leech.”

he said it like it was truth. like it was math. and you believed him. you disappeared after that. let the silence grow between you like rust. you stopped showing up in the same places. you deleted his number from the one phone you had. you told yourself that it was childish, this thing you felt. that you had been stupid. too hopeful. too warm.

but now you’re here. jujutsu high. and so is he. and of all people, gojo-sensei sends him to pick you up from the station. sends him to walk beside you like your limbs don’t remember how to move when he’s this close. sends him to carry your boxes up the stairs, to help set your things down on new floors, as if the two of you are still friends. as if any of this is normal.

you try to be normal. talk about nothing. the heat. the school. how ugly the dorm curtains are. he says little. but he listens. and that almost makes it worse.

because there’s this ache you carry, and you hate it. you hate that you haven’t grown out of it. you hate that when he moves too close, your skin burns. you hate that when he says your name it sounds exactly the same, like he’s never stopped saying it, even though it’s been a little over a year. you hate that you’re still this; this person who learned every single one of his quirks, his moods, the tilt of his voice when he’s annoyed, the shape his mouth makes when he’s trying not to say something cruel.

you thought you knew him. you wanted to. god, you tried. you studied him like scripture. like if you knew enough about him, it would mean you belonged in his life. but now you’re not sure you ever knew anything. he is a stranger in a boy’s body you used to love, and the worst part is, you still feel everything.

you still look at him like a friend. maybe something more. and that’s the humiliation of it all; being so soft for someone who made it clear they didn’t want you. who called you a leech. who tore open your affection and called it neediness. but you’re here anyway. like the doormat you swore you’d stop being. like the child you thought you’d outgrown.

the heat settles deeper in your skin. you carry another box. he says your name. and you pretend not to hear.

"that’s the last one, right?" he calls out from behind you, voice casual but impatient, like he’s already halfway through this task in his head and just waiting for your body to catch up. he’s pointing at the smallest box, the one you almost didn’t bring. it’s light, tucked under your arm, the flaps already loosened from when you sliced through the tape with the box cutter he lent you.

you don’t answer. you just nod, fingers curling under the cardboard as you lift it onto the desk. but then your foot snags on something—maybe a misplaced charger or the edge of a rug or nothing at all, maybe it’s just bad luck—and you stumble. you yelp. your knee knocks against the wood. the box slips.

and then it falls.

a dull thud. the journals spill out like organs. years of you, handwritten and folded inwards, scatter across the floor with humiliating finality. the top one lands open, the spine cracking faintly against the tile. it’s a moment before you even process the sting in your toe or the heat rushing to your face, because megumi is already crouched beside the mess. already reaching.

“fuck—wait, don’t touch that,” you say too fast, too breathless, and you move to snatch it from his hands, but he’s faster. and quieter. and he’s already reading.

his fingers hold the spine delicately, like it might burn him. his brows furrow in that quiet, unreadable way he does when something confuses him. he flips a page. then another. the room is suddenly too quiet. you can’t breathe through it. your ears thrum with the rhythm of your own pulse. it’s too loud and it’s not loud enough.

your voice breaks out again, this time sharper. “stop. give it back.”

he doesn’t. of course he doesn’t.

his voice cuts through the silence, low and stunned and cruel in that accidental way only he can manage. “you wrote this?” he asks, turning the book in his hands like it’s a weapon. like he’s not holding years of your heart in ten trembling fingers. “for me?”

you blink. you want to throw up. you want to disappear.

you’re standing in the middle of a room that is suddenly nothing but a box of open wounds. and still, he’s reading. you lunge for it again, and he moves away—not far, just enough. just out of reach.

“they’re not for you,” you lie. “they’re not about you. give it back.”

you want to scream. to cry. to pull every word from that notebook and burn it into ash.

he tilts the page slightly and says, flat as anything: “the one i’m showing you is literally titled ‘megumi.’”

and then, gentler, “why didn’t you tell me you liked me?”

and it’s then you finally look up at him fully. he’s not mocking you. not smirking. not cruel. he looks... young. uncertain. like he’s holding a bird in his hands and isn’t sure if he’s going to hurt it or set it free. like someone who’s never been written about before, never been looked at the way you’ve clearly looked at him.

but all you can do is stand there, hands empty, mouth open, heart loud in your ears as he reads the most embarrassing parts of you.

all of it bare. all of it his. and now, he knows.

you look at the floor first—because looking at him would split you clean down the middle. and the tiles blur. not from heat, or light, but from the sharpness swelling behind your eyes. you swallow. hard. your fingers tremble as you step forward, quiet, deliberate, pulling the journal from his hands like a bandage being ripped away from raw skin. he doesn’t move. not this time. maybe that’s worse.

you toss the book onto the desk like it means nothing. like it isn’t filled with pages and pages of your heart bleeding in black ink. you say, “thanks for the help. tell gojo-sensei i can do the rest myself. class is at eight, right?”

you think it’ll end there. you think you’ll be able to disappear into the mess of your room, sink into the floor, pretend this never happened. but of course, it doesn’t. of course, it never does.

“you can’t just ignore what I’m asking from you,” he says. and you don’t have to turn around to know what he looks like. furrowed brows. clenched jaw. that low voice he always uses when something gets under his skin and he doesn’t know what to do about it. “fuck’s sake, answer the question. when were you gonna tell me you loved me?”

and you look at him. you look. you let your shame and your fury and your humiliation guide your chin up, eyes narrowing, jaw tight.

“never,” you say. your voice is quieter than you want it to be, but there’s iron in it. “because it doesn’t matter, anyway.”

he flinches. almost imperceptibly. like a twitch in the corner of his mouth. you press on.

“you can go now. since you’re done helping me get my things set up. or whatever.”

and for the first time in years, maybe ever, you watch fushiguro megumi look like he doesn’t know what to do next.

“i’m sorry—”

“you called me a leech,” you say, and the words don’t come out cruel or angry or loud—they come out like the last breath of a dying animal. broken. small. hoarse around the edges. “amongst other things.”

then, finally, you look at him.

it takes everything in you. your chest aches from the way your heart twists at the sight of his face, summer-lit and sweat-slicked, hair clinging damply to his forehead. his shirt is wrinkled from the boxes, stuck to the lines of his torso, and his hands—his fucking hands—hang useless at his sides, like he doesn’t know what to do with them now. like they’ve never held anything as fragile as this moment.

“so no,” you say, quieter this time, your voice giving out like a match burning itself down to the stem. “i don’t like you. nor do i love you.”

the lie comes out tasting like blood. it scorches the back of your throat, sets fire to everything inside of you.

“and since you’re only here out of obligation,” you add, “you can leave.”

he flinches like you slapped him.

“i’m trying to apologize for that,” he says, breathing heavy, chest rising and falling like he’s fighting to stay grounded, like he might float out of the room if he doesn’t keep himself tethered to the floor. “i didn’t know i was being mean. i’m not like that anymore.”

you laugh. it's a sound that doesn’t hold a trace of joy. it feels like the edges of you are fraying. like you’re bleeding out of places no one can see.

“and i’m supposed to believe that?” you ask, mouth twisting, eyes narrowing even though they burn. “you can’t possibly have turned into a saint, fushiguro.”

“i didn’t say that,” he says, shaking his head, taking a step closer, and then another. cautious, as if he’s afraid you’ll bolt. or break. “i… missed being your friend.”

your lips press into a thin line.

“i shouldn’t have said those things,” he says, voice low now. something ashamed and bruised colors it. “my sister had just gotten into a coma. i should’ve told you instead of lashing out, i realize that now. but—”

you blink. the words don’t register at first. they enter your mind sideways, like a dissonant note in a melody you’ve heard too many times.

“your sister what?” you ask, eyes going wide. the air rushes out of your lungs like someone’s just gut-punched you. “is tsumiki okay?”

“she’s here,” he says softly, eyes flickering away from yours, like the weight of your worry is too much to look at head-on. “infirmary building. still in a coma. but that’s not what we’re talking about right now.”

you open your mouth, then close it. and then he says it. the thing he’s really been circling this whole time.

“why didn’t you tell me you were in love with me?”

it’s not accusatory. it’s not cruel. it’s… stunned. honest. a child asking why the moon won’t stay in the sky during the day. and your heart, already so close to tearing, finally gives way.

the realization hits like a freight train. a sudden, collapsing weight, like your ribs have turned to glass. like the floor beneath you has disappeared, like you are tumbling through the air with no end in sight. you stare at him. at fushiguro megumi, who stands here now as if you did not spend the last year unlearning the shape of his name in your mouth.

and for a second, just a second, you wonder what could’ve been, if only he hadn’t said it. if only he hadn’t ripped open the wound.

“you don’t get to ask why i never told you i loved you,” you whisper. and it feels like the cruelest thing you’ve ever had to say. because it’s the truth. “you made it very clear i was hard to love.”

the silence afterward is deafening. you think you hear your heart shatter in the quiet. or maybe it’s just the echo of it finally giving up.

he looks at you with his brows drawn together, like he’s trying not to fall apart. like you’ve reached into his chest and pulled something out and held it up to the light, something he didn’t know was still breakable. small and flickering and so, so stupidly soft.

and suddenly, you can’t bear to stand in the light of that look.

you turn away.

your knees hit the floor, and the edge of the cardboard scrapes against your shin as you crouch down. the box lies there, half-emptied and pathetic, your notebooks spilling out across the floor like everything you’d ever been too afraid to say has finally come undone at your feet.

you start gathering them. one by one. the silence curls in on itself behind you. he doesn’t move. but you can feel the tension radiating off him, like he’s clenching his fists at his sides, like he doesn’t know where to put the apology.

and then, all too suddenly, he says, “i liked you too. i still... like you.”

it’s so quiet, so halting, that for a second you think you’ve imagined it. but you haven’t. because his voice wavers at the end. because it lands in your ears like a bruise blooming too slowly.

“i wasn’t good at writing,” he adds. “i didn’t know how to write you poems. or make you see it, but… i liked you too.”

you freeze. everything inside you—your heart, your lungs, the sinew of your throat, the fragile tendons that hold your hands to your body—everything stops. your breath catches in your chest like a fish-hook. you don’t know how long you stare at the floor before you look up.

he’s standing there like a boy in a memory, shoulders uneven, eyes uncertain. his hair sticks to his temple with sweat. his shirt clings to his ribs in that way cotton does when it’s too hot and everything’s a little too much. and he shrugs. a small, almost helpless thing.

“it’s why i was so weird around you,” he says, not meeting your eyes now. “i didn’t know how to act when someone willingly wanted to spend time with someone like me. someone who used to be that much of a… bully.”

the word tastes awful in his mouth. like he’s admitting something he doesn’t want to see written down. like he’s still trying to believe he’s allowed to be good now. allowed to be wanted.

you don’t say anything yet. you can’t. you just sit there, your palms resting flat against the cover of the notebook you couldn’t bring yourself to throw away. the one that still has his name on the spine. handwritten, over and over again, like a prayer.

and god help you, you still remember how every letter felt when you wrote it.

you don’t say anything. you just move.

quietly, you stand, brushing the dust from your palms, collecting the scattered pages and lining them up with mechanical care. each journal finds its place on the desk, like you’re trying to restore some small order to the chaos he just cracked open. your back stays to him. you exhale, slow. controlled—or at least, somewhat.

your fingers hesitate over the last book. the one he read. the one you didn’t want him to see. the one with his name. you flip through it like you’re skimming a life you no longer recognize. straightening the corners of pages he’s already bent. smoothing the creases his hands left behind.

then, finally, you turn. he’s still standing there. unmoving. eyes glassy, like he’s trying not to blink, like if he closes them, you’ll disappear.

you walk toward him. one step. then another.

and when you reach him, you don’t speak. you just place the book in his hands gently, like it’s something fragile now. and your voice is quiet. even. stripped bare.

“i’ll see you for dinner in the evening.”

you don’t wait for a reply. you don’t need one. because there’s something already humming between you two.

for now, that’s enough. the door stays open behind him.

© all works belong to admiringlove on tumblr. plagiarism is strictly prohibited.

[lily-claw]

I was studying history...

[notarmedandnotdangerous]

NEEED THE REST OF THAT CAMBOY FIC PLEASEEEEEE 😭😭

of course 😝 ask and you shall receive!! this is so freaky i feel embarrassed. i hope you enjoy the second part

+18 mdni! faceless desire; a fic where bucky finds out about reader's little secret

cw: camboy!m!reader, dom!slightly mean!bucky, sub!m!reader, porn with plot (shocking), reader invites bucky on stream, flirting, use of shitty usernames, includes stream comments, bucky being so down bad it actually hurts, cumming untouched, dry humping, bucky being possessive, praising, slight degrading, forced orgasms, multiple orgasms, slight overstimulation, dumbification, creampie

word count: >4.5k

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5]

-------------------------------------------------------

bucky waited for you. a day passed, then two, then five. there was no texts, no calls, no nothing. you took a week off of streaming, saying something about being on vacation. he wanted to reach out to you. multiple times, he typed something to send to your number, then deleted them. nothing felt right, he didn’t want to pressure you, just wanted you to know that he was still here for you.

a week had passed. on a cold, rainy day, you were walking home, and you just happened to pass by the old tennis court. you hadn’t walked by this path in a while. you turned your head, just to see someone there.

it was bucky. he sat on the bleachers, arms braced on his knees as he stared out at the empty court in the pouring rain. you stopped at the gate, contemplating if you should go in. you didn’t move forward, just waited.

you walked slowly into the court. you stood a few meters away from bucky, who had his headphones on. the headphones you gave him for his birthday 2 years ago. how weird, you’ve never once seen him use them. you walked closer, leaning closer to shade him from the rain with your umbrella.

bucky looked up, his expression softening, before looking away. it was subtle, but you caught it. he didn’t speak, he was too afraid to. afraid that he would mess up again, as he always did.

“i thought i was going to lose everything.” finally, he broke the silence.

you turned towards him. he kept staring ahead.

“when you told me you knew, i panicked, shut you out. i thought, if you knew, and you didn’t like what you saw, everything between us would fall apart.” you replied, hands shaky as you gripped onto the handle of umbrella tightly.

“i liked what i saw. i already did.” his voice was soft, much softer than his usual blunt tone.

“i wasn’t ready to be seen, buck.”

“i didn’t mean to take that from you.”

“you didn’t.” you looked over at him. “i gave it away when i showed such an obvious thing.” you huffed, almost a laugh.

“it was kind of a dumb move.” bucky smiled gently.

“i missed you, so bad.”

“i missed you too.” bucky nodded, his voice quiet as he admitted.

“i’m still scared, buck.”

“we can figure it out slowly, no rushing, okay?” bucky nudged your shoulder lightly.

a week later

everything was back to normal, you were yourself again. you finally worked up the courage to pull bucky aside and ask him to join you.

“would.. would you like to join me one day?.. l-like, on stream..” you stuttered, your words getting caught in your throat. his eyes widened at your invitation, and you panicked. “you don’t have to if you don’t want to- it’s just an invitation, i-i’m sorry if it’s weird, i’ll go now.” you were about to leave, but he grabbed your wrist, and he pulled you into an innocent kiss.

“does that answer your question?” he spoke bluntly. your face flushed, as you stuttered.

“y.. you’re a horrible kisser, buck.. wait, was that your first kiss since the 40’s?” his face flushed, as he avoided your question.

“i.. i forgot how, okay.” he admitted, his voice strained.

later that evening

‘le charmeur’ went live again for the first time in a week.

“hey, took a break. had to recalibrate.” you spoke, much calmer than before now. you kept bucky’s face out of the frame as well, protecting both his dignity, and privacy, he was a congressman after all. “have a special guest with me today. someone who owes me a tennis rematch. say hi, newbie.” you moved slightly, just enough for the people to see as he waved awkwardly to the camera.

oh, the comments were absolutely bat shit crazy today. everyone in the comments either whined, and complained, or were envious of him having the chance to fuck your pretty ass.

user3:

‘WHO IS THAT WHO IS THAT WHO IS THAT’

user4:

‘WAIT THAT’S THE GUY?? THAT’S BANDAGE GUY??’

“anything you wanna say, baby? everyone’s losing their minds over you.” you moved out of the way completely now, showing bucky splayed out on your bed. the only piece of clothing he had on were his sweatpants, which did absolutely nothing to hide his size. he didn’t know what to say at first, he sighed, before sitting up.

“hi, i’m.. uh.. bandage guy.” the comments started flooding with more thirsty, horny users, the moment they heard his voice.

user5:

‘he’s cute. i’m saying it. i’m not taking it back.

user6:

‘oh my god he has THE voice’

user7:

‘god, he’s so pretty, you need to ruin him!’

user8:

‘i wonder what he sounds like when he cums’

“he’s a beauty, isn’t he? seems like everyone thinks so, baby.” you leaned back, giving him an innocent peck.

“fuck, keep talking, babydoll.” he groaned, the camera was cropped at the base of his neck, and the viewers could see the way his head tilted to the side when he spoke, and the comment section exploded once more.

user9:

‘THE HEAD TILT THE HEAD TILT. I’M DEAD.’

user10:

‘the groaning UGHHH u want me dead’

user11:

‘#iloveneedymen’

“woah woah, you guys are feral. are you people here for me, or for him?” you joked. “just so you people now.. he’s mine, and always will be. right, baby?” you turned around, and he nodded frantically.

“yes- yes, babydoll.” bucky spoke, and his voice faltered, just for a beat.

user12:

‘PAUSE. REWIND. REPLAY.’

user13:

‘i’m writing fanfiction already. don’t fucking test me.’

user14:

‘HE STUTTERED.. HE FUCKING STUTTERED’

“shh, shh, baby, you’re giving the fans too much. they’ll exploit you.” you breathed, signalling for bucky to come closer to you. he sat on the chair, while you sat on his lap, facing the camera. “can we get someone here to time him out for being too vocal? he’s giving you people too much material to work with.”

“wouldn’t mind having you shut me up, in more ways than one.” bucky spoke bluntly, making the comment section erupt once more.

user15:

‘OH YM GOD???’

user16:

‘IN MORE WAYS THAN ONE?? OH YA’LL FREAKYYY’

you were dead silent, caught off guard by how bold he can be.

“what? too much?”

“you’re dangerous with an audience, you know that? you can’t just say things like that”

“i would’ve said it off camera, too. you’re the one who invited me.”

user17:

‘OH GOD “WOULD’VE SAID IT OFF CAMERA” HE’S UNHINGED’

user18:

‘HE’S SO FINE OH MY GOD’

“oh my god- you can’t just say that.” you pressed your fingers to your temple.

“what? i’m just being honest.”

user19:

‘this man is flirting LIKE IT'S A CONTACT SPORT.’

“you’re out of control.” you muttered.

“you knew that when you invited me.” then, with absolutely no hesitation, bucky added. “put me in my place then.”

the way you visibly froze made him chuckle. it was like someone had unplugged your brain. your mouth opened, closed, as your entire face turned red. you stared blankly at him, making him wrap his hands around your waist, as if he was trying to apologise.

user20:

‘SIR THIS IS A FAMILY STREAM (it’s not but STILL)’

user21:

‘OH YOU’RE INSANE FOR THAT. NO FOREPLAY NO NOTHING.’

user22:

‘i love u bandage guy pls never die’

user23:

‘charmeur is buffering irl HELP’

“oh my god..” you covered your face with your hands, leaning backwards so that you were pressed on bucky’s chest. “i’m never living this down.”

“not unless you make me behave, babydoll.” he whispered into your ear.

“yeah yeah.. k-keep talking and you’ll know what happens.” you grinded on him, and he made a strangled noise.

user24:

‘stop flirting and FUCK right now’

“see, babydoll? even the comments are complaining now. aren’t you supposed to fuck me on camera?” he moved the camera angle slightly higher, so that it’d reveal your neck. one of his hands snaked to your throat, and he applied gentle pressure. you whimpered, even though you were always toying with yourself, you hadn’t had actual sex with someone.

“we’re not fucking on camera yet! gotta edge the viewers sometimes so that they lose it.”

“well, i can’t focus when you’re all pretty on my lap.”

“well, try harder then!”

“i’m trying not to develop a thing for your voice when you’re bossy.”

user26:

‘HELLO?? THE VOICE??’

you opened your mouth, then closed it again. you were so flushed, even your ears were red.

“you’re gonna make me end the stream early if you keep this up.”

“then stop sounding so good when you’re mad at me.” bucky was quick to bite back. it drove both you, and the comment section insane.

user27:

‘the tone change????’

user28:

‘they’re not even playing with each other anymore, they’re playing with US’

you grinded on him slowly, making him grunt into your ear, his hands falling to your hips.

“you always get that intense, triumphed look when you get a reaction out of me.” bucky spoke.

“you should see how i look when i get what i want.” you teased, and in response, he blinked, then again. his mouth slightly open, and he just.. stared. no words, no nothing.

user29:

‘he said WHAT’

user30:

‘BANDAGE GUY IS GONE. DEAD. ASCENDING’

“something wrong?”

“uh. nope. all good.” he cleared his throat, and suddenly became very interested in your bed frame, turning his head towards it.

user31:

‘EVERYONE CHEERED. WE GOT HIM.’

user32:

‘the way he short-circuited. absolutely feral. 10/10’

“okay, maybe we’re having a bit too much fun.” you leaned back to kiss him. “i’m sorry, you were just so fun to tease, couldn’t help it.”

the both of you were doomed, bucky had not had sex since like, the 40’s, while you had only fucked yourself on toys. you were gonna be each other’s first, and it made you giddy.

“you think so? you’re killing me here, babydoll.” he gripped your hips, and you changed the camera angle. he stood up, carrying you to the bed behind you.

“i know you enjoyed it.” you attached a mic to your bed frame, so that it could pick up on you and bucky’s noises.

“is the camera angle right? want everyone to see how well i’m gonna fuck you.” he spoke possessively, and you whined. “hear that? he’s just..” he pulled your shorts down. “so fucking hard for me.”

“please, sir.” you called him by the pet name you used when he was in your comment section.

“see? your ‘charmeur’ is so far gone, calling me whatever he wants now.” he spoke to the audience, and they went feral.

user33:

‘fucking two bad bitches AT THE SAME DAMN TIME’

user34:

‘one chance, bandage guy, that’s all i ask for’

“one chance?.. mm, no, i belong to him. ask him for permission if you want me.” bucky dominated your comment section now, oh you were absolutely done for. “but maybe i’ll let some of you have a go with your ‘charmeur’. how does that sound, babydoll? letting the others use you, since you’re just so hungry for cock.”

user35:

‘oh he’s MEAN’

user36:

‘good luck charmeur, you’ll need it..’

“n-no, want you, only you.” you stuttered. he smirked, pulling you close and kissing you. he moved his hand down to stroke your cock, and you grabbed onto his shoulder tightly. “y-yes, mmh..”

“see, guys? he wants me, only me.” he spat, who knew he could get so possessive. it was new, but you definitely weren’t complaining.

“please, f-faster.” your hips bucked desperately. you weren’t used to having someone else’s hands on you, and it made you even more sensitive. “b-baby, please.” you pleaded, your back slumping against the pillows on your bed. he did as you asked him to, stroking you faster than before and you mewled.

“that’s it, gonna cum for me, aren’t you?” he teased, and you could only nod, too far gone to respond.

“yes- yes, gonna cum.. j-just for you.” your hips jumped and writhed uncontrollably when bucky teased your tip, and you came immediately. it was more intense than usual, and you were breathless. “h-holy fuck.”

“one more for me, come on, before we get started.” he kissed your neck, continuing to stroke you. you could easily reject him, but you didn’t. just let him tease and kiss you all over.

“i feel like the most times you’ve came in a row is 2 times, am i right?” he asked, and you nodded your head in response. “what if we broke that record? make you cum at least 3 times?”

“that’s.. a-a lot.” you stuttered, unsure of what you should say.

“but you can take it, right?”

“mmh, i-i think i can.”

user37:

‘at this point just force orgasms out of him.. good god he’s so hot’

user38:

‘tears rolled down my thighs btw. you’re insane for this.’

“good, good boy.” he kissed you, gently cupping your face with his hand, all while stroking you faster than before. he loved the way you looked when you came, absolutely debauched, absolutely ruined.

“c-cumming again.. aah..” you came, for the second time in a row. you hadn’t done this a lot, so it was definitely a little overwhelming. your hips jerked as you came again, he slowly stroked you through your high, before you finally calmed down.

“is that okay?”

“mmh, want your cock.. c-can i?” you pleaded, and bucky nodded. he pulled his sweatpants down, revealing his length. your eyes widened in shock, you’ve never seen anyone this big, this long, this pretty.

“you’re practically drooling, babydoll. wanna suck it?” the way you nodded immediately was embarrassing.

user39:

‘oh charmeur is folding’

user40:

‘suck him off til he cries!’

“go on.” bucky leaned back against the cushions, letting you move the camera to the edge of the bed, so that it could catch what you were doing.

slowly, you took bucky’s cock in your hands. god, he was impressive. you felt like you needed both of your hands to properly work him.

“you’re.. so big, so pretty.” you arched your back, looking up at him. when he tilted his head downwards to look at you, he knew he was fucked.

“u-uugh.. babydoll..” it came to him as a shock as well, he didn’t expect to cum just from the sight of you in between his thighs. all this just caused the comments to explode once more.

user41:

‘oh he’s NEEDY’

user42:

‘cumming before ‘charmeur’ even touched him was so hot btw’

“you.. you came so quickly. didn’t even do anything yet.” you teased, kissing his tip and his breath stuttered. “you were so bold, so possessive. what happened to that?”

“nothing happened.” bucky spoke bluntly, he was embarrassed though, the flush on his face spreading down to his neck and chest. “just hurry.”

“so bossy.” you cooed, dragging your hands up and down his cock, and he whimpered, throwing his head back. his hand flew up to cover his mouth, trying to hide the sinful noises he was making. “ah ah, wanna hear you.” at your call, he removed his hand from his mouth, letting it drop to the back of your head instead. you eagerly lapped at his dick, it was way too big to fit in your mouth anyway.

“oh, babydoll.” he played with your hair as he let you toy with him.

“don’t wanna make you cum too much, don’t think you can fit in with my pace.” you teased, and he huffed. he manhandled you, you were now on your stomach, while he was behind you.

“yeah? i think i’ll fit just fine..” his fingers sneaked down to your hole. “..right here. where i belong.” he leaned forward, kissing your neck before pressing your upper body down into the bed, essentially forcing you into the nastiest arch. “so needy, letting me get my cock wet inside you.” he pressed his cock into your hole slowly, and you mewled.

“s-so.. full.” you sighed.

“full? but it’s just the tip.” bucky chuckled, pressing in as slowly as he could from behind you. after all, he didn’t wanna risk hurting you.

“uuh.. mhh.. i-i can’t..”

“what? too big?” he teases, gripping your hips harder as he pushes you deeper into the mattress underneath the both of you. “but my cock fits so snug in you, it’s like you were made for me, babydoll.” he coos, this thumb moving to play with your sensitive tip, and you almost yelped out.

user43:

‘keep going charmeur u can take it!!’

user44:

‘i wish i was there taking his cock instead..’

“oh, look, the comments are encouraging you, babydoll.” he smirked, finally bottoming out inside you. he was much thicker and slightly longer than the toys you always used on yourself. you teared up at the slight overstimulation, and sheer stretch of his cock in you. “look at those tears.” his thumb wipes one away, and you let out a soft moan. “it’s okay, i’ve got you.”

“p-please.. uuh..” that was all it took for bucky to lose his mind.

“shh, relax, babydoll. if you keep squeezing me like that, i’ll cum sooner than i want to..” he pulled you up, holding you up by holding your jaw, so that your back was against his bare chest. “you wouldn’t wanna disappoint your viewers, would you?” you shook your head, blinking away the tears. “attaboy, come on, you can take it. i’ll go slower for you.” he dropped you back onto the bed, gripping your hips tightly as he rocked your hips against his, letting you adjust to his size.

“s-sir.. you can.. mm- move.. n-now.” you stuttered out, you were convinced that bucky's cock was punching the air out of your lungs now that he started actually thrusting. he focused on your sweet spot, pulling out slowly, just to roughly, and harshly fuck back into you, bullying your prostate in the process.

“o-oh, f-fuck.. so deep.. i-i’m gonna cum, sir- can i? please?” you begged, you knew he’d let you cum either way, and you were begging just to put on a show for the viewers in your stream.

“of course, go on. cum for me, cum on my cock.” it only took him a few thrusts, before you’re cumming all over the sheets. your back ached as he pressed you into the meanest, most painful arch. “that’s it, squeeze my cock for my cum, babydoll. you want me to fill you up don’t you? want me to breed you? let me fuck it back into you, so that you don’t waste a single fucking drop?” he teased, grunting in between each mean thrust he gave you, his head tilted back with a moan as you squeezed his cock impossibly tighter.

“w-wait.. need a break..” you whimpered, panting into the mattress, and bucky nodded. he didn’t pull out though, keeping his cock warm inside you.

the more bucky spoke, the more the comment section went feral.

user45:

‘breed him!’

user46:

‘fill him up, he’s been begging for it’

“jeez, you guys are insatiable.” he chuckled, gently running his fingers up and down your sides. “it looks like your ‘charmeur’ can’t take any more, though.” he pulled you up once more, holding you against his chest by splaying his palm on your stomach. it was obscene, and absolutely filthy. “look at him, he’s crying big fat tears, telling me that he can’t take it anymore.”

“s-sir..” your hands snaked up to bucky’s on your stomach. “f-felt.. so good..”

“think you can take more, babydoll? just a bit more, so that i can fill you up?” you nodded, but apparently that wasn’t enough. “come on, use your big boy words.”

“y-yes.. i-i can, want your cum, p-please.” you spoke breathlessly, all while his cock twitched inside you.

“good boy, come on.” he dropped you back onto the bed, gripping your hips tightly. “i can go rough, right? you’ll let me ruin you, won’t you?”

“yes s-sir, anything for you..” you were debauched.

“i’ll take care of you, babydoll.” he leaned forward to kiss your shoulder, before he gripped your hips tightly and started a rougher, harder, faster pace. every single thrust of his knocked the wind out of your lungs as you took all of them. he squinted, reading out a comment from the screen.

user47:

‘god, i’d let him breed me until i’m dripping with his cum’

“oh, that bad huh? too bad, the only person who’ll ever have a chance is him.” bucky’s thrusts started to get sloppy, as he got closer to the edge.

“mmh- sir, g-gonna cum again..” you writhed underneath him, before cumming again. your entire body shuddered as your knees buckled. he held you up, gripping onto your hips tightly.

“aah, fuck, squeezing me so tight. i’m gonna cum, gonna fill you up, babydoll. can i?’

“y-yes, fuck, always..” you were so out of it, not even knowing what you were agreeing to anymore.

“mmh, g-gonna breed you, sweet thing.. uugh.” he gave you a few harsh, mean thrusts, before cumming deep inside you with the cutest whimper ever. “..fuck.” unfortunately, the whimper was loud enough to get caught by the microphone.

user47:

‘am i the only one that heard that?’

user48:

‘THE WHIMPER?? i need to lie down’

user49:

‘THAT WASN’T ACTING. shit came straight from his SOUL.’

it took a few minutes for bucky to calm down, his cock still in you. he finally sobered up enough to talk.

“was that good enough of a show? i hope i made a good impression on all of you horny freaks out there.” he chuckled, pulling out of your spent form. “look at him, he’s all ruined now, poor thing.” he copied your signature move, swiping the camera gently before ending the stream.

[seungfl0wer]

Bangchan As Your Boyfriend

Bangchan | Minho | Changbin | Hyunjin | Han | Felix | Seungmin | Jeongin

Contains Smut 🩵

•He’s such a cute, giggly, bushy mess. He’s so giddy about everything.

•Finds everything you do just so damn cute.

•One of his favorite things is when you get to talking about something you love.

•The way you’re so excited about it just makes him smile while listing.

•The sparkle in your eyes just makes his heart do flips.

•Another thing he absolutely just melts at is you in his clothes.

•He finds it so cute and attractive just seeing you in his shirts/hoodies.

•The day he finds you all curled up in bed in his hoodie snuggling up to his pillow.

•Ugh man feels like his heart is on fire.

•He’s such a sweet Clingy man.

•Wants to always be touching you in some way.

•Is he slightly possessive or is he just doing loving boyfriend things?

•The answer is yes. Yes to both.

•He always has a hand on you. Either on your thigh, holding your hand, touching your arms. Anything.

•He’s very thoughtful.

•Remembers all the things you tell him.

•So when he’s traveling and sees your favorite animal, snack or favorite character in that one show you guys binge watched.

•He’s buying it for you.

•Speaking of buying things.

•Loves buying you both matching clothes.

•Finds it so adorable.

•He’s getting you both a whole wardrobe of couple outfits.

•Just loves showing you off.

•Talks non-stop about you.

•”y/n loves those!” “Omg those are y/ns faves!”

•“Y/n and I come here all the time” “y/n did this funny thing today”

•Plans out time for his schedule to make sure he has time to spend with you.

•Does in fact cry when he’s away from you for too long.

•He gets you to wear one of his hoodies for a while before leaving so he can snuggle it.

•Also cries into that.

•He’s just so head over heels for you it hurts being away for so long.

•When he does eventually come home.

•He’s all over you.

•You’re not leaving his sight for at least a week straight.

•He’s gonna be glued to you.

•Arms wrapped around you.

•Telling you how much he missed you. How much he wants to take you to the places he was.

•Giving you all the things he found for you.

•Also apologizing for leaving you for so long.

•Which you always playfully smack him telling him

•“I don’t mind, I knew when we started dating this would happen. At least at the end of everything you come back to me.”

•Your words always bringing tears to his eyes.

•Mans has a whole folder of songs he’s made for you.

•There’s some he’s shown you but a lot are special.

•For special occasions like birthdays/anniversaries.

•He also has a whole folder of pictures/videos of you.

•A lot. A LOT. Of unflattering ones.

•Has those saved in a special folder so you can’t delete them.

•He thinks they’re cute but you think they’d be perfect blackmail material.

•He really enjoys your input on things.

•Music, style, life. He really likes to hear what you have to say.

•Always checks up on you, just simple “did you eat today?” Or “Did you drink water?”

•Sends the sweetest good morning texts

•And you know something?

•The spark yall have never dies.

•The longer you date, the more he knows he’s gonna marry you.

•He falls more and more in love with you every day.

•Truly heart eyes for you constantly.

•Chan is really just the best, he’s so caring, compassionate and just.. the man you want forever with.

•And nothing would make you happier than to spend that forever with him.

︵‿︵‿୨Smut Below୧‿︵‿︵

•As loving as he is normally that transfers to love making.

•And that’s what it is.

•Love making.

•He’s so sensational, and passionate.

•You both definitely sit down and talk about what you both like.

•Chan always wants to make sure you’re comfortable.

•But god does he just lose control sometimes.

•His mind goes as he’s fucking you.

•He looks like a dog with his tongue basically hanging out.

•The noises he makes are so hot-

•This man’s vocal on a daily you think he’s not in bed?

•If he’s not making noises he’s talking.

•Big into talking.

•”Baby, you feel so good” “ah you’re taking me so good”

•”My love your milking my cock-“ “you’re so good for me baby”

•Ugh-

•Definitely loves interlocking hands.

•He can get a little rough sometimes.

•Spanking, Choking, hair pulling, probably has a daddy kink.

•I said what I said.

•We all know he does-

•He’s such a softy though.

•Soft dom for sure

•Always. Always makes sure you cum.

•You could have been an absolute brat.

•And yeah he’s gonna punish you but honestly.

•He’s gonna let you cum.

•Even if he says he won’t.

•He will.

•He always does.

•Also listen-

•This man’s going down on you often.

•So often.

•He just can’t get over how you sound.

•Can’t get over how you look when his tongue is lapping at your hole.

•Really just drives him crazy.

•So much aftercare. Ugh dude-

•Cleans you up, cuddles you, gets you a snack and a drink.

•”You did so well baby” “it’s ok baby I’m here I’m not going anywhere ever. I love you”

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

[hitomisuzuya]

bully!yandere scaramouche x fem!reader. smut. cunnilingus. degradation. masochism. sexting (ish). blowjob. stalking. drugging/ use of marijuana and cigarettes. obsessive behavior from scara. mix of soft dom!scara and harsh!dom scara.

i was genuinely surprised how many people got excited for this🥺 i decided to split this into two parts cause it's really quite long.

you knew it was going to be a long afternoon the moment you left your dorm this morning. the moment scaramouche caught sight of you across campus. the last few months, scaramouche has been your bully.

"hey, nerd, you are a little late today," scaramouche bats your books out of your arms, "did you get lost on the way here?" the drink in your other hand was the next to go, batted out of your hand and landing face down on your books.

you stare down at the mess on the floor in front of you. you hate that there is a blush on your cheeks. you could do nothing but stare at the water bleeding onto your papers, swallowing your pounding heart in your throat.

scaramouche sighs, and flicks you in the forehead. "never mind," he pats you twice on your head, "i can see there is nothing going on up there. see you later, sucker. i don't have all day," he laughs at you, waving in passing.

"if you don't have all day, then what are you doing standing around picking on me?" you retort as you kneel to pick up your things. you simply pick up your things and head back to your dorm. you are pretty sure there was nothing major going on in your afternoon class.

you chose to hide away in your dorm for awhile. you flop down on your bed, turn on the tv and decide to see what your friend was up to. you met him online in the chat of a live streamer you both watch. later on through text, he told you could call him kuni and you've talked pretty much every day since.

'hey, what are you up to?'

back in his dorm, scaramouche had been waiting for your text. lately, you have been a lot more comfortable texting him. 'nothing much. i thought you are supposed to be in class this afternoon?' you have no idea it's him you have been talking to. you don't even know that it's someone at school.

it is a very good way for him to have you all to himself.

'nah, it's just a review today. i can safely skip. and this is going to sound so silly but...'

scaramouche eats it up when you trail off in your texts. that told him you are shy and flustered about something. he knows he has to be careful about how he words things when he talk to you. you might surely figure him out easily. 'what's up. is something on your mind?'

'don't laugh okay?'

'scout's honor. kinda seems like you have a lot on your mind. i don't mind listening, you know that,' you are quiet and shy, so he has to coax you little by little to get you to talk, but he likes to think he has gotten pretty good at it.

'actually, i do have a lot to say.'

scaramouche smirks, rolling the ball of his tongue piercing on the roof of his mouth. this was going to be good.

'well, he is selfish. arrogant. has no concept of personal space. he is academically lazy, but he is so so smart. all he does is poke, poke, poke. he never stops. i don't know why he picks on me, but i don't know how honest you want me to be about this?'

your praise about him being smart made his cock twitch. 'tell you what. i will put my down for two hours. not even look at it. you type to your heart's content and send the messages. when you are done, you can delete them. i won't even read them. sometimes, it helps to just get it off your chest and have that be that.'

of course he didn't do that. he kept his phone in his hand the whole time. honestly, he is completely unashamed about manipulating you like this. there is something rattling around in that pretty head of yours. there is no way he is going to pass this up. for extra encouragement, he texts, 'i'm putting my phone down now. just do your thing.'

back in your dorm, you couldn't help but smile a little. kuni really is a good friend. you feel nothing but secure talking to him about anything. so naturally, you just typed without thinking. he wasn't going to read it anyways, and you trust him. your fingers shook a little as you started typing.

'well, lately i am starting to enjoy when scaramouche bullies me. as wrong as it is to say, there is just something about that way he talks down to me. it just sounds so good. it's starting to make me really wet. that's why i had to skip class today.' not wanting the texts to be too long, you pressed send and started a new one, and just let yourself type.

'his arrogant confidence is infuriating, but at the same time, there is this commanding dominance in the tone of his voice. like all i could think about earlier was him bullying me down onto my knees, telling me it's okay to be a weak little slut and take his cock into my mouth like a good girl.'

"oh holy fuck, you little masochist," scaramouche whispers nearly dropping his phone reading your text. and you are typing still. he knew he couldn't say anything though, so he waits, his hand itching to reach down and stroke his cock.

'and i would gladly sink to my knees for him. i am blushing just thinking about it. i even want to play with myself, it's so hot to think about. it's making me really wet thinking about him degrading me while i choke on his cock. i want him to tell me it's okay to be weak. to not think and just focus on pleasing him because that's what i am ultimately good for. omg i am so sorry, please don't read this. thank you.'

scaramouche quickly took a screen shot before the messages disappeared. as much as he wants to find you and force you onto your knees exactly like you describe, he knew he wouldn't benefit him any. in fact, it would blow everything to hell. he reads your texts again, his hand fisting his hard cock, wishing the cum that spilled onto his hand was going into pretty your mouth instead.

over the next few weeks, scaramouche relentlessly bullied you, and you settle into something of a routine with kuni. once scaramouche was done with you, you would text kuni, spilling your racing thoughts into what you thought were blank text messages that you deleted unseen when are done.

'i can't thank you enough for always letting me do this, kuni. it's really helping a lot. if you ever need to vent in the same way, please do so. believe me, i can barely type these words. i didn't get much sleep last night. all i could think about was scaramouche tying me up, and degrading me for begging him to cum inside me while he fucks me senseless. i know i should stay away from him, but i can't help it.'

'he can never find out about this.'

you are effectively giving scaramouche all the tools he needs to corrupt you. you have no idea you are putting opportunities gift wrapped right into his lap. now, he could start sinking his claws into you.

you have no idea just how close he really is. there are only so many places you could go on campus. scaramouche knows your routine like the back of his hand. he has a few classes with you, and it's always easy for him to be in the right place, watching you while he bullshits with his friends.

usually, when you are out getting food or in between classes, you always text kuni, letting him know exactly what you are up to and where you are. you probably text kuni because being out around people makes you nervous.

'hey, kuni. i hope you have eaten today. i am grabbing some quick dinner right now. after, I'll probably go back to my room and watch tv or something.'

scaramouche looks right at you from across campus while you type. you are so painfully naive that it's adorable. you had no idea he's been following you the entire day, carefully blended in and unnoticed.

'hey, i just ate a little while ago. how was your day?' he texts back, immediately putting his phone in his pocket. you are defenseless and easy pickings right now. and he now knew you had nothing to do tonight. he is going to change that.

scaramouche waits until you get your food, and makes a beeline right for you as you leave the campus cafeteria. "so even nerds eat, i see," he trots up behind you, snatching your food out of your hand.

"will you please give that back? i didn't have breakfast earlier. i kind of..overslept," you reach for your food container, a blush dusting your cheeks as he holds your takeout box above his head.

"like i give a shit," he scoffs, watching your tits bounce as you jump to try reach for your container. smirking, he puts a hand on your chest and gently shoved you backwards. "what do nerds eat anyways?" he laughs, dancing away from you as he opens the container.

"what's it matter to you? you aren't eating it," you shyly try and reason with him while at the same time trying feebly to stand up for yourself. but you felt yourself getting weak in the knees like you always did. you could clock your body down to the minute it reacted it had become so routine for you.

"maybe i am hungry," scaramouche flips the lid closed, and walks away with your food. exactly like he thought, when he looks over his shoulder, he sees you coming after him. he revels in how much darker the blush on your cheeks got so fast.

"look, at least give me half if you want it that badly," you try several times to grab the container out of his hand, only for him to take it right out of your reach as he walks.

scaramouche laughs as he stops in front of his dorm. "nah, i don't share," he tosses your container into the trashcan next to his dorm room and opens the door. you wouldn't need that anyways. if he got his way, and he would, you wouldn't be leaving his dorm tonight. he can always get you something to eat later.

he is completely used to always getting what he wants.

you stare in disbelief at your food in the trash can. "i..i..why did you do that?" you swallow you pounding heart in your chest. it shouldn't feel this good to be bullied. you didn't think your cheeks could get any more red. the condescending tone he has sent a pleasant shiver right down to your clit.

sighing, scaramouche curls his fingers underneath your chin. "you should see the look on your face," he tilts your head up to look him. "yeah, that one right there," his hand caresses your cheek, his thumb lightly skimming across to your lower lip as you look at him.

"what do you mean?" it felt like a reflex for you to turn your cheek into his hand, the action happening before you knew it was. you long forgot about your food. the only thing you can do is focus on him. just looking up into his eyes flusters you.

"you look like you would get down on your knees and suck me off if i asked you to," it's infuriating how cute you look to him right now. your cheek was nuzzling slightly into his hand, much like a pet would.

clicking the ball of his tongue piercing on his teeth, scaramouche waits for your reaction. if you chose to walk away, he would let you. but he knew you wouldn't. whatever happens next is entirely up to you.

"what if i told you i would?" you shook a little as the words came tumbling out of your mouth. hearing his words reminds you of how wet you are. it took everything you had not to look away from him.

scaramouche froze for a moment, processing what you said. he honestly didn't expect you to be so straightforward. he thought he would have to bully it out of you. "c'mere," he takes his hand off your cheek, and grabs your wrist.

hastily, he pulls you into his dorm and shuts the door. "i'll bet you can't show me you are serious. weak nerds like you cave so easily," he scoffs, deciding to test you a little by putting his hand on your shoulder.

you shiver the moment he applies pressure, sinking to your knees if front of him. scaramouche's eyes widen for a moment as you look up at him. "i can prove it," you say, smiling softly at you nuzzle your cheek on his pelvis. "let me prove i can be a good girl for you." right now, in this moment, this is exactly where you want to be.

he grit his teeth looking down at you. "you know, you look adorable on your knees," he has spent so many nights with his hand fisting his cock, thinking about you in this exact position. looking up at him with utter adoration. fuck, it is making him hard.

you stay submissively quiet on your knees as he unbuttons his jeans. taking out his cock, he puts a hand on the back of your head. "open," he commands, tapping his index finger on his lips.

your eyes light up as you willingly open your mouth. his hand on the back of your head brings your mouth close to his leaking cock. he pokes the tip against your lips, smearing precum on them as he pushes it into your mouth.

your tongue flattens as you lick the slit, wrapping your hand around his cock. "fuck, i knew you were a weak slut," scaramouche hisses as your tongue glides wet on his cock head. his hand tightens in your hair, pushing your mouth onto his cock more, "be the good girl you promised you would be and suck."

you moan, opening your mouth to take his cock in. it pulses thick on your tongue as you suck. he groans as you gently grind the roof of your mouth on his cock. your clit throbs at his degradation, your panties clinging wetter between your legs.

he drinks in the look of adoration welling deeper in your eyes. it straight up makes him moan with pent up need. "that right, slut. keep sucking just like that," he holds your head in place, pumping his cock in and out of your mouth.

your pussy clenched hearing him degrade you so harshly. you muffle a moan on his cock, your sucks turning more eager as you stroke your fingers on the part that wasn't in your mouth. scaramouche rests his head against the wall, bobbing your mouth on his cock.

you rub your thighs together as drool pools out the corner of your mouth. you didn't need to think about anything other than pleasing him. your throat spasms around his cock as it suddenly hits the back of your throat.

"good girl, choking on my cock so well," he pushes hit into your throat again to feel the pure pleasure of it spasming pliable on his cock. you look so intoxicating right now, content to let him use your mouth to get off. the look in your eyes screams, please, enjoy me.

scaramouche has to bite back his whimper as his cock pulses in your mouth. "fuck, i am cumming," he mumbles as cum spurts warm and salty into your mouth. "swallow it all, whore," he groans, relaxing his hand on your hair and letting you suck him through his orgasm. his hand strokes through your hair until he pulls out of your mouth.

you obediently swallow, blushing as you saw a string of saliva connecting your tongue with his cock. sighing, he puts his cock back in his pants. it's so fucking sweet how you are looking up at him for some sort of guidance as to what to do next.

you really would look so pretty all collared up for him like the perfect pet.

"have you ever smoked pot before?" he asks, walking to grab a joint off his nightstand. he knew exactly what your answer would be. as he sits down, he pats the bed in signal for you to come sit with him.

"no, i haven't," you get to your feet, shyly making your way over to sit on his bed, "but i have been curious," you thought he would send you on your way once he got what he wanted. your heart is skipping beats in your chest at the thought of staying with him.

scaramouche spends the next few hours, shotgunning hits into your mouth while you watch him play video games. with each hit, his tongue devours your mouth, his lips needy on yours. he doesn't stop until your eyes look glazed over and hazy, and you are lying relaxed next to him on your stomach.

admittedly, he couldn't say he have an interior motive. as much as he wants his precious to relax, getting you high would make you more pliable for him. after a few hours of some conversation and smoking another joint, scaramouche turns off his game and rolls you over onto your back.

without a word, he captures your lips in a rough kiss. it strokes his ego how it takes no time at all for you to start moaning softly into his mouth as he devours yours with his tongue. his kisses turn more possessive as he takes your clothes off, carelessly tossing them on the floor.

he chuckles seeing the blush on your cheeks as he spreads your legs and slots himself between them. "why do you look so shy, hm?" his tongue dips between your folds, "you were sucking my cock like an eager slut a couple hours ago. it's cute, really," smirking, he licks stripes up and down your pussy.

your hips rock up to grind your pussy on his mouth. the wagging of his tongue piercing on your throbbing clit makes whimper tinged moans bubble up in your throat.

you don't know how much time passes as scaramouche tongue fucks your pussy until you start whimpering and moaning uncontrollably, his hands possessive and bruising on your hips as your hips they buck into his mouth.

you'd sucked him off so well. he has to reward you by returning the favor. as much as he wants to sink his cock inside of your tight, wet cunt right now, he knows just his tongue fucking into your hole will have to do. a delicate thing like you had to be corrupted slowly or you might shatter way too fast.

you passed right out shortly after cumming hard on his tongue, whimpering and shaking from the intensity of your orgasm. he keeps you tucked under his blanket, curled up against his side with your head resting on his chest.

"hey, are you awake?" he asks softly, tapping his index finger on your head. you didn't even stir, and he wasn't surprised. this had been your first smoke pot, and he had gotten you quite high before eating you out.

"don't worry, winter break is coming. everything will be okay then," he whispers, stroking his hand through your hair. you'd looked so fragile and delicate standing in the food court earlier. overwhelmed and tired. that if someone clapped at you the wrong way you would break.

life is full of loud and scary things. things that would break you. he couldn't have that. when winter break comes in a few weeks, he would make everything okay. before he went to sleep, he read a text that you'd sent a few days ago:

'i think i am really in love with my bully.'

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Conrad deserves better than Belly. After he sees Jere and her kiss, he get his ass to Stanford and meet this cute and smart maybe tutor girl (Haley James style) and falls in love with her and then they show up at Jere's wedding years later and Belly is jelly

I've spent the last five days working on this one.

p.s. it's 2k words...

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

When Conrad finished his exam, he went back to Jeremiah and Belly. He was going to tell and confess his love to her before she had to get home, but when he got to his car, the scene Conrad walked on made him sick to his stomach: Belly and Jeremiah were full on making out against his car. He stopped short of the car and cleared his throat, causing the two to spring apart from their heated kiss and see Conrad looking right at them. 

Conrad’s face was white. He would rather have had someone shoot him in the head with a nail gun, repeatedly, than have to watch the two of them kissing.

He didn't know who he was more angry at. Belly, who, not even a day ago, had told him she would have fought harder for him if she knew he loved her that much. Or Jeremiah, who, although he knew how much Belly meant to his brother and how fucking in love he was with her, seized the opportunity to kiss Belly the moment he was alone with her.

‘’Conrad—’’ Belly started, guilt settling in her guts. 

He cut her off, his voice cold and cutting. ‘’I don’t want to hear it.’’ 

His gaze shifted from Belly to Jeremiah. There was so much hate in his eyes. How could Jere do that to him? They agreed to stop hiding things from each other and talk, but Jeremiah must have forgotten already. 

‘’You broke up with her, Con, remember? We did nothing wrong,’’ Jeremiah said, pulling facts in his favor to make himself feel better — less guilty — for kissing his brother’s ex.  

When Conrad kissed Belly on the beach last summer, he didn’t know she and Jeremiah were a thing — if he could call it that — or that he liked her. If he had, he wouldn’t have kissed Belly or confessed his feelings to her. Had the situation had been in reverse, Conrad wasn’t sure Jeremiah would have backed off. 

‘’I’m done.’’ Conrad's voice was resolute, his heart heavy as he turned away, unable to bear the sight of them any longer.

Jeremiah moved to follow, calling out Conrad's name. He didn’t stop, needing to be as far as possible from the painful scene. His mind was racing with a jumble of emotions. Anger, betrayal, and a profound hurt gnawed at him. He had trusted both Belly and Jeremiah, yet they pulled this shit behind his back. 

‘’Why do you always have to act like that?’’ Jeremiah said as he quickened his pace to catch up. 

Finally, Conrad turned to face Jeremiah, his expression a mix of sorrow and resentment. ‘’You don’t get to tell me how to react, Jere. You kiss the girl I love outside my school, against my car while she’s wearing my sweatshirt. If you don’t see how disgusting and messed up it all sounds—’’

‘’She kissed me,’’ the younger one quickly defended. 

 Hearing this made him want to pack his bags, get his ass to stanford and focus on school. He needed to turn the Belly page, and in order to do that, he needed to be away from both she and Jeremiah. California seemed far enough, right?

*

The first days and weeks were tough for Conrad, struggling to accept the definite end of the relationship. She was still all over him like a wine-stained shirt he couldn’t wear anymore. 

He blocked both Belly and Jeremiah’ numbers. If he wanted to move on, he had to keep his distance from them. For a while, at least. Then, he deleted all the old pictures he kept of Belly on his phone. There was no going back for them anymore. 

He was done.

*

You met Conrad a little before Christmas break. Just like those cliché rom-coms, you walked right into him and spilled your chai latte all over his sweater. You wanted to break the cliché and not fall for the victim of your clumsiness, but after one look into those beautiful blue eyes, you knew it would be impossible. 

 After that day, you kept crossing paths around campus and, one afternoon, you asked him out. He was so surprised, but he said ‘yes’. 

Although you had sealed the end of the night with a few kisses, you decided to take things slow. You had a very busy schedule with the tutoring lessons on top of your regular program, and Conrad was unsure if it was too soon to get in another relationship, if he was ready for it. The scar Belly had left on his heart was healing, but was he ready to open his heart to someone again? 

‘’Have you ever been in love?’’ you asked one night in his dorm while studying. 

Your question had caught Conrad off guard. It was visible on his face. 

‘’Have you?’’ he returned, not taking his eyes off his textbook. 

He was trying to dodge the question. 

‘’I asked you first,’’ you said, seeing through his plan.

‘’Then yes.’’

‘’How many times?’’

‘’Once.’’

His answers were flat, annoyed he was by all your questions. He wished you would stop and get back to studying in silence, but you kept going. 

‘’On a scale of one to ten, how in love were you?’’

‘’You can’t put being in love on a scale,’’ he said, lifting his head with furrowed eyebrows. ‘’Either you are or you aren’t.’’

‘’But if you had to say.’’

Conrad started flipping through his notes. He hadn’t thought of Belly in months. He missed her — in a different way he used to. She was his friend before they got tangled into this mess.

He didn’t look at you when he finally said it. ‘’Ten.’’

*

The more time he spent in your presence, the more Conrad was — unknowingly — letting go of his past. 

The pictures he deleted months ago became pictures of you, filling his phone until there was no space left. The smell of your perfume lingered on some of his clothes and in his car. He had your coffee order memorized, along with your favorite study-break snack, which he made sure to have in stock in his dorm. 

You became part of his routine — part of his life —, brightening his days even on his darkest, saddest nights. 

He didn’t want to bother you, but nothing was calming the ache in his chest. He tried getting some air and smoking weed, he even thought of calling Laurel, but it was almost 2am in Pennsylvania. Conrad didn’t want to scare her. 

So he pulled up your contact and called, the weight of his grief still heavy in his heart, wishing Susannah was still there. He couldn't believe a full year had gone by since she took her last breath. 

You were about to slip into bed when you saw his name flashing on your phone. You almost didn’t pick up, but you got a gut feeling that he needed you. 

When you opened your door, a saddened look was etched onto Conrad's face, his beautiful eyes glistening with unshed tears. The sight pulled at your heart and you wrapped your arms around him, holding him for the whole night.

Supported each other through finals and all-nighters.

‘’Getting tired?’’ you said, catching him actively fighting against his own eyelids. 

Conrad shook his head, taking a long gulp of his coffee. ‘’No time for sleep. I have this huge exam first thing tomorrow and I still have a lot of chapters to cover.’’

‘’You can take a short nap if you want. I’ll wake you in thirty minutes,’’ you kindly offered, flipping through your notes for a specific annotation. 

‘’Nah, I’m good.’’ He flashed you a soft smile, then returned to his studying. 

A few minutes later, and you couldn't help but notice that Conrad's eyes had begun to droop. They would halfway close and then he would either blink a bunch of times, or widen his eyes until they were bug eyed. It was cute.

‘’Con? Conrad?’’ you called out gently. 

‘’I'm not sleeping. I'm resting my eyes,’’ he mumbled defensively, fighting fatigue.

There was no way he was getting through the night, so you put your notes down and slipped on Conrad’s flannel shirt that was on the back of your chair to shield you from the night air. ‘’We’re gonna need more coffee.’’ 

As you came back with two fresh cups of coffee, you found Conrad fast asleep on your pillow, still clutching his pen.

And held his hand through the rainiest times — literally.

‘’Isn't California supposed to be the sunniest state?’’ Conrad asked, watching the downpour through the windshield, drenched from head to toe. ‘’The seats are all wet...’’ 

‘’You gotta learn to live with the consequences of your own actions, Connie baby.’’ 

It was his idea to get waffles when the sky was looking very gray and angry. He insisted that it would clear out, but a loud clap of thunder echoed on your way back to the car and rain started pouring. You took the road back to campus, but it got too dangerous, forcing Conrad to stop the car on the shoulder of the road and wait for the rain to calm. 

You wiped your face with the sleeve of your hoodie and a smile curled on Conrad’s lips, still the most beautiful to his eyes despite your wet hair and the slight smear of mascara under your eyes. 

 ‘’Rain happens everywhere. Even in the dryest desert,’’ you reminded him, pulling out your phone to check the weather app.‘’Unfortunately, this one isn't gonna stop anytime soon.’’

You toed off your sneakers, making Conrad draw his eyebrows.

‘’What are you doing?’’

‘’We’re gonna be here for a while.’’ You peeled off your hoodie — also wet from the rain —, leaving you in your skirt and dainty bralette. ‘’Might as well occupy ourselves,’’ you explained before leaning over the middle console and kissing him, fastening yourself to him with a stitch. 

The kiss took him by surprise, but he wasn’t complaining. He could spend hours kissing you and never get bored. 

You crawled over the console and on Conrad’s lap without breaking contact, your hands easily finding grip on his hair as you felt his hands all over your body, caressing and pulling. The windows were fogging quickly around you, creating a veil of privacy as more layers were peeled off.

Conrad once believed he had found love, that Belly was it for him, but the feelings he felt back then were nothing compared to how he felt right now. 

‘’You’re the best thing that happened to me,’’ he confessed, his forehead pressed against yours. 

*

The invitation came in a few weeks before the wedding. Conrad couldn’t believe his brother was going through with this. Everything was happening so fast and seemed rushed. Him and Belly weren’t even twenty. Who gets married so young anymore? 

He arrived in Cousins a few days prior to the wedding, surprising everyone — and stealing the attention from the soon-to-be-weds — when they saw a girl with him. 

The only person who knew exactly who you were was Steven. A few months ago, you had posted a picture with Conrad at the beach and tagged him, leading to Steven finding out about his friend’s new girlfriend. He was surprised when he saw it, but very happy for Conrad. He deserved better than someone who plays between two hearts. 

Laurel put down the table-center she was holding and went over to pull Conrad in a hug. She turned to you, making quick introductions, and Conrad held his breath. He’s always been close to Laurel and her approval meant more to him than his father’s or Jeremiah’s. 

While the two of you engaged into a conversation, he saw her. Belly. Dressed in a white sundress and talking to Taylor, she looked just the same. The only difference was, Conrad felt nothing. No pain, no old feelings rising back. 

For the first time, what’s past was past.

‘’Belly, come greet Connie and his girlfriend,’’ Laurel called out to her daughter. 

Although you had never met her, you could tell exactly who she was in the room — and not only because her dress was white. The jealousy filling her eyes when they fell on you gave her away.

—

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[blackhairedjjun]

aquarium date with yeonjun

short yeonjun x gn!reader thoughts, established relationship, pure fluff, inspired by his instagram photos | 562 words

this blog, including this fic, will be deleted soon. to save this fic, read it on ao3.

every day you are reminded of why you're so damn in love with yeonjun.

for example: today, on the surprise aquarium date he brought you to, you find yourself watching him more than the actual fish. you can't help it - you love the gleam in his eyes when he watches a stingray passing by, or the little shoulder shimmy he does when he mimicks a fish swimming in a funny way, or the way he turns to look at you when you pass by the shark tank.

"did you see that?!" he says, his mouth open and eyes wide. his head whips back and forth between the shark and you. "so cool..."

he stops plenty of times to snap photos of his favorite fish and send them to his group chat with the boys, or to his chat with you.

"but i'm right here," you say. "why do you need to send the pictures of the fish?"

"i know you're gonna ask for them after, so i'm sending them right away," he says with a wry smile. "we can look at the pictures together in the car."

you smile in response, your eyes crinkling. yeonjun thinks it's the prettiest thing in the world.

what you don't know is that he feels exactly the same way - while you're mesmerized watching a school of fish dance is a wide circle, he snaps a photo of you. he stops for a moment to admire the awe adorning your face captured at the right time. then, while you're standing in front of a giant glass pane surrounded by nothing but blue, he snaps another photo. how grand you look surrounded by a slice of ocean, he thinks and smiles to himself.

"what are you looking at?"

you catch yeonjun smiling at his phone at waltz over to him.

"at you," he says, and shows you the photo.

you gasp. you hate most photos of yourself, but you have to admit that this one is beautiful: you're posed in front of a canvas of blue, the dim light of the aquarium framing your silhouette. the portrait has an otherwordly yet calming quality to it. it makes you look like a divine spirit of the ocean.

is this how yeonjun really sees you?

a smile spreads across your face as you look at the photo, then up at yeonjun. you see softness in the curve of his smile and light in his eyes. he pockets his phone and reaches his hand towards yours, intertwining your fingers with his.

you lean towards him and glance down at his exposed shoulder where his jacket has fallen off. the urge to shower him with affection rises. how could someone so sweet, so kind, so beautiful, be standing right next to you?

you give in to the urge and leave one kiss on his shoulder, then another, then another...

he looks at you in surprise. a few moments of silence linger as the sensation of your kisses sinks in. and then:

"you drive me crazy, you know?"

and he pulls you toward him, holding you close and swaying you from side to side in between giggles. the aquarium displays are completely forgotten when he's too busy squeezing you and peppering your face with kisses.

every day yeonjun is reminded of why he's so damn in love with you, including today.

[luvclerc]

how bout a charles leclerc x kpop idol reader? where charles and the reader have been dating even before they became famous. theyve been soft-launching each other for years and years, and the fans are trying to figure it out.

ps: i imagine jennie kim as the face claim (i love her sm)

gf reveal please

summary: when fans are manifesting a relationship they don’t know already exists

pairing: charles leclerc & reader

liked by lewishamilton and 5,928,193 others

youruser happiest girl in the worlddd

view all 34,828 comments

rubylove to the person that sends her blue flowers every year for her birthday, thank you <3

heartyn the way she’s always getting the same flowers every year 😭

petrolh lewis what are u doing here 👀

pink1 pretty sure they did a campaign together recently so nothing juicy from them

rosiesyn i just want to know who’s been gifting her flowers every year

liked by carlossainz16, landonorris, pierregasly and 2,928,019 others

charles_leclerc from the camera roll 📸

view all 26,929 comments

lecler16 ahhh not charles in his soft launch the flowers again???!-

scuder1a going to pretend i didn’t see the last slide 🫶🏻

pierregasly 😁

amorcl ???

lestapa33n what does this mean

pinkari i want to say something but i don’t want to get ratioed on here too

liked by scuderiaferrari, charles_leclerc, carlossainz16, and 4,729,019 others

youruser uk recap (ps. wasn’t exactly the results we wanted but still had a good time!)

view all 34,929 comments

pinkscuderia HELLO YN WAS AT SILVERSTONE AND THERE WAS NO PICTURES OF HER AT THE PADDOCK??!/!/

ynnniviee we were robbed of yn content at the race

char_les PLEASE TELL ME WE HAVE SOME CONTENT OF YN WITH THE DRIVERS scuderiaferrari

scuderiaferrari 🤭

sainzchar DOES THAT MEAN YESS???

scuderiaferrari see you again next race?

pinkari CHARLES IN THE LIKES??? ONE STEP CLOSER TO MY SHIP SAILING

lechairs but charles already has a gf…

liked by landonorris, youruser, and 2,292,019 others

charles_leclerc 9th. not the results we were expecting but thank you for the continuous support. next stop break.

view all 24,425 comments

itsleclerc silverstone + strategist screwed over charles this weekend but the man still has the mood to soft launch..

clmcquen shout to to charles gf for helping him through this tough time

lechairrie one day ferrari will stop fcking up charles

ynmon would have been great if yn got to celebrate a win with ferrari :(

youruser forever proud! comment has been deleted

sainzchair ENOUGH with posting the back of her head gf reveal pls

liked by youruser, carlossainz55, maxverstappen1 and 4,420,324 others

charles_leclerc always nice to spend the holidays with family ❤️

view all 34,028 comments

itslec1erc it’s been 5 holidays gf reveal when 🥹

scuderiaferrari lovely family ❤️

carlossainz55 this a big ass tree

landonorris psa! charles gf makes more money than him

charles_leclerc as she should :)

alex_albon when i borrowed $200 from her and she didn’t ask for it back 💃🏻

ynlnlover is anymore here from yn recent post?!

liked by charles_leclerc, yourbestfriend, lewishamilton and 4,593,013 others

youruser happy holidays everyone!

view all 43,505 comments

ariyn the dress... the tree... the private jet

sharleclerc waittt is this the girl from charles recent post???

landonorris oop the dots are connecting

georgerussell63 did you get me a christmas gift this year??

youruser uM haha

ynhearrt NOO MOTHER FIRST DATING RUMOR 💔

plsyn f1 driver x kpop idol is the weirdest crossover i’m sorry???

liked by carlossainz55, maxverstappen1, pierragasly, youruser and 29,210,425 others

charles_leclerc took her on a trip for our fifth anniversary ❤️

tagged: youruser

view all 98,184 comments

pierregasly damn i wanted to be the one who did the reveal 💔

youruser ilyy 💞

carlossainz55 does this mean i can finally post my pictures 😭

sharlcare STOP THIS IS SO UNEXPECTED

ynmomm THE VISUALS WNSNDNSNW

scuderiaferrari parents 🫶🏻

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc, lewishamilton and 12,244,091 others

youruser me and my man <3

tagged: charles_leclerc

view all 80,241 comments

pinkari EVERY TONGUE THAT RISES AGAINST ME SHALL FALL

leschairs it was you and me against the world :(

charles_leclerc yn only agreed to hard launch cause she didn’t want pierre to reveal it himself 😞

pierregasly you never want to see me win :/

landonorris adopt me 🫶🏻

ynfan THE PRETTIEST COUPLE

charlyn don’t know who i want more, yn or charles 😭

carlossainz55 don’t forget about me 🥹

[manchesterau]

dnp editing and debating on keeping in a joke/comment about their relationship in the video??

Dan squints at the computer screen. A still image of himself looking at Phil. His face is flushed red, his hair is doing that thing it does where it can't decide if it wants to be curly or be a big puff ball on the top of his head, and his mouth is open in a big laugh at a joke Phil's just told. He hums to himself, stops chewing on the inside of his cheek, and blows out a breath he didn't know he was holding in.

The joke isn't bad, and it took Dan a minute to even realize Phil had said something that would read as too real. It's pretty innocent, all things considered. Just a little anecdote about a visit to the Isle of Man once upon a time, a little story about something that happened while visiting Phil's parents. It doesn't even necessarily fit within the theme of the video, some shitty game Phil found ages ago they decided to randomly play.

The thing is, nothing would be amiss if Dan cut it out; his fingers hover over the shortcut to split the section and delete it, but he can't bring himself to do it. He also can't bring himself to just move on and finish the rough edit before sending it off to their editor for this video either. He starts gnawing on his cheek again as he replays it again, watches himself comically roll his eyes as Phil starts telling the story, his body leaning into Phil's side, his mouth wavering like he's trying not to smile, the look in Phil's eyes as he glances not once, not twice, but three times at Dan. He gets to the climax of the story easily and laughs quietly to himself at his own joke, watching as Dan explodes in laughter. A quick glance at the camera before he looks back at Phil in disbelief.

Dan quickly pauses the video again on the same part, jamming his pointer finger onto the space bar. He blinks rapidly. In moments like this, when he's being indecisive and can't tell if something is a big deal or not, he does what comes most naturally to him. He yells for Phil.

It doesn't take long for Phil to come bumbling into the room. His hair is damp, and his glasses are perched precariously on his nose like he put them on in a rush to get here.

Phil squints at the screen and then back at Dan, expecting a conversation. "Yes, Daniel?" He says, voice wavering on concern and amusement.

Dan blinks at Phil and then looks back at the screen. He makes a little sound and gestures wildly. "Uhh, can you watch this part and tell me if it's like...I dunno too much?"

Phil nods curtly, puts on his serious face, and Dan quickly rewinds back a full minute and lets the video play. Instead of looking at the screen, Dan watches Phil's face from where he towers over him. Studies the small smile he does at the mention of visiting his parents, the crinkling of his eyes as the joke is told, and the slip of adoration at Dan's big hyena laugh.

He quickly turns and pauses the video again and stares expectantly at Phil. If Phil says it's fine than it's fine but if he decides it's too much then Dan will cut it out in a heart beat. It just feels like so much even if little was actually said.

"So," he says. "Is it like...I mean, is it alright?"

Phil looks at him, Dan watches the cogs turn in his head, when suddenly his face is inches away. He leans over Dan and plays the part again, his face does the same thing, and he pauses it a little more than ten seconds after Dan usually stops it. He pulls back and crosses his arms nodding.

He shrugs, "It's fine! I mean, I see what you mean. Like, the implication is there, but we've been kinda toeing the line a bit. Plus, it's not...you know-" He gestures, and Dan nods because he understands. Phil doesn't have to say anything more, and Dan just gets it.

They have been toeing the line of what they're fine with letting slip and what they want to keep just for themselves. This used to be a lot easier when they were younger, before they were out, and when the weight of the world felt like it hinged on a single comment that would have given everything away. The cards that they have held tightly to their chest have loosened over the years. They finally feel like they have the upper hand in their own lives, like everything that has been taken from them is finally tucked back safely in the little box that is their story.

Dan looks back at the screen and smiles. "Yeah, and I feel like it's subtle enough. And even if people freak, like if it became a thing, I think...I think I'd be fine with that."

Phil hums, "Yeah, plus I think I left out the part where you propositioned me for beach sex almost in earshot of my parents."

Dan splutters, "You motherfucker-" He pushes Phil away, flips him off for good measure tries to drone out the sound of Phil's laughter. He turns around and presses play.

_________________________________________________________________

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[vxnitra]

This fandom is out of control and it’s time to reevaluate where we go from here.

Over the past week it’s been a nightmare in the fandom with the stalking being brought to light but to be honest it’s been going on a lot longer than that with threats and hate towards them and fans to the point people are leaving. If we want to keep this fandom going we’re going to have to change as a community otherwise there won’t be any fandom.

So what can we do to make this a better space for us and the triplets?

1. Ignoring negativity- people can have opinions obviously but where do we get going back and forth arguing, if you don’t like what someone has said on your post or someone else’s you can delete or block the person, simple.

2. Stop entertaining drama- people will do shitty things and make up lies and drama but like point one ignore and block, cut off the attention they are seeking and you’ll feel better for it truly.

3. Learn to love yourself- now this one may seem confusing in here but just because someone may get more notice than you by other fans or the triplets doesn’t mean you are less than, sometimes its just the algorithm and we shouldn’t go sending hate to others for it. If it is deeply affecting you please take a break or block these accounts for your own mental health.

4. Lifting and supporting one another- we have many amazing, talented people in this fandom, don’t be afraid to put yourself out there and show your love for people as it can brighten someone’s day and you never know what friends you can make from it.

5. Excepting the fact the triplets need a break at times- since starting they have hardly taken breaks in their career so maybe that’s why people jump to conclusions when they take a break thinking they’re quitting (they’re not) unless they say otherwise. Im going to say this with love do not make them your life and make them an extension of your life because sitting waiting there for them to post and they don’t will hurt you in the long run.

6. Generalisation - we need to stop generalising fans, for example thinking all older fans are creeps because some are or calling younger fans annoying, have you met all younger fans to decide that? Get to know people before you judge rather than making assumptions.

7. Blaming- can we stop blaming and pointing fingers when things don’t go our way “ it’s the stalkers fault we don’t have a video I hope they’re happy”. I know some of these are jokes but some are serious but how do we know this? Maybe they’ve decided to change their filming schedule and if so it doesn’t matter we move on with our lives or go back and watch another video.

8. Not making everything public- I’m going to use the stalking incident as an example, the exposing could of been handled a lot differently like reaching out privately to a mutual of theirs instead of making everyone known of it to be spread around. We know they are private people as it is so I assume they didn’t want to open social media with the fandom like a dumpster fire and thousands upon thousands of notifications about it. I think stalkings wrong but we need to work on how we compose ourselves, we can do things calmly and let them handle it. Also sometimes bringing these things public can do more harm than good for them and it’s best to think about their safety.

Theres definitely a lot more points but I’ve rambled on long enough just take this post with a grain of salt if you don’t agree that’s fine just block me or ignore it. If you agree I hope we can apply them moving forward as this fandom can be amazing, a safe space for us to express ourselves and support the triplets together as a community.

Thank you for reading🤍

- I know my words mean nothing and I probably wasted my time writing this but I needed to get it off my chest.

[th3r3dw00dtr33]

Strangers..? || Obey Me x Reader

A/N: This is part two! IT'S HEREEEE— (I am very pissed off, my work got deleted and I had to redo everything 😭)

TW: Angst, Swearing, Spoilers

READER IS NOT MC

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It had been three weeks since the student [Name] [Lastname] disappeared. The RAD student council and the exchange students seemed a bit... different since.

None of the other students knew why, but the air around RAD seemed colder. More distant. They never really interacted with [Name], so why would they?

Diavolo sat at his desk, rereading the letter that was sent to him six days after they were reported missing.

Its contents talked about their predicament, how they were framed, how they weren't of this universe, and how they chose them. The letter didn't help with much other than to clarify things...

When the letter arrived, he questioned Barbatos as to why he remained silent.

Barbatos' reply was understandable, but did he not realize how this affected the exchange program? Diavolo's dream?

"I am sorry, young master," was what he got instead. Diavolo understood, but it was frustrating nonetheless. Even he had practically ignored the demon (or human, apparently).

When word got out among the council members and the exchange students... It was messy. Each responded in their own way, but put together it leaned more to the guilty side.

They never expected to see [Name] [Lastname] again.

In an alley near the Royal Academy of Diavolo, the air crackled as a blue portal appeared. It flickered once, twice, then a third time before a figure stepped out of it.

The figure sighed, "Once again... Once again, I'm in this fucking Hellhole."

You had no idea why you agreed to this in the first place. Was it because, despite everything, you still loved Obey Me? Was it because you hoped for that slim chance of finally being someone important to them?

They sent you here as a punishment. Now they send you back so you can have your happily ever after?

What was this, a fairy tale? You knew better this time.

LUCIFER:

He never really knew them... why should he care? Weren't they just a stranger?

But then he realizes how horrible they must've felt when they knew the people around them but were treated like nothing.

Lucifer felt conflicted.

His usual aura still felt diminished in a way, even if he didn't understand why.

Some say he felt guilt, but his pride would always rebut with a "I am not feeling guilty. Stop that nonsense."

And for some time, he didn't.

It wasn't until he saw them again, in front of the same set of doors and hallways, that he felt an ache.

Was it guilt? No. It couldn't be.

Nonetheless, he brushed it aside with a greeting and a smile. He was surprised, but it wasn't anything too big to make such a fuss about.

"Welcome back," he would say, "I hope you've let Diavolo know about your return?"

Nothing too big. Nothing that indicates he missed them. But then again, he barely knew [Name], so that was a given.

He'd just tried to talk, but they brushed him off with their own indifferent gaze. Just like he did when they had first met.

He didn't take it too personally, but they were now under his radar.

Over time, he'd watch them from a distance, noting small things about them all the while keeping an eye on MC.

He didn't know what sparked the sudden change. [Name] didn't either. But he soon found himself wanting to talk to them.

To get to know them.

But each time he tried, they would shy away. They'd run.

They'd fucking treat him like a stranger...

Was this how they had felt?

Before, the firstborn would ignore them out of pride. Out of indifference. Because they didn't seem special.

He brushed them aside. He had forgotten about them.

This time, he was the one chasing, and they wouldn't look back.

MAMMON:

The demon wouldn't have known anything was wrong if it weren't for his brothers' changes in mood.

"I don't know that person!" he'd protest, but then the second-born would remember.

He'd remember how they'd make him feel important.

He'd recall how he ignored them.

Why did he do that again?

Oh, right. Out of fear. Fear of becoming weak, and fear of caring. It was stupid, he'd admit.

Which is why when he saw that demon human again during the same history class, his eyes were wide open in alarm.

"You're back," he'd comment, "Of course, you'd be back! You'd never leave the Great Mammon!"

Previously, he had never realized they were human, and as one of the Seven Avatars, he took it upon himself to watch over them.

He disguised it by asking [Name] for a pencil.

Mammon was confused as to why their gaze grew unfocused.

Hey, are you listening? The Great Mammon was asking for a pencil! Oi, does he need to call Lucifer or somethin'?

It never occurred to him that they would be reminded of before.

It just didn't click with him. After all, why would [Name] care? They barely knew him.

Or so he thought.

The second-born learned of their situation when he overheard Lucifer and Diavolo talking.

He felt... oddly happy, for some reason.

The Great Mammon was famous in another world with fans like [Name]? Sweet!

But then he realized what they had gone through.

Mammon was greedy, yes, but he wasn't cruel. He wanted to make up for what he'd done before.

After all, what celebrity would he be if he didn't help his fans?

But why was [Name] avoiding him? What did he do wrong?

"...[Name]?"

He just wanted to make things right― wasn't that enough?

LEVIATHAN:

He wouldn't be in school anymore.

It wasn't that he dropped out; he would just be at home resuming his online classes.

The third-born didn't care much about the demon, ever since he got back into the safety of his room, the thought of them left his mind completely.

So when he learned of the letter, everything stilled.

That was a fucking human?!

Good job making him even more self-conscious and guilty, he would act more nervous around MC, ashamed for how he treated one of their kind.

But it wouldn't affect him too badly― they were gone, anyway.

That was until he bumped into them one day, when he was browsing a store for any new Ruri-Hana merchandise.

Apparently, the human was looking for [Insert Anime], and they just so happened to bump into each other.

"Uah! What are you doing here?!" He didn't mean it in a bad way― the person just startled him, but nonetheless, they shrank back and walked away.

"Wait― Wait! I didn't mean it like that! [Name]!"

He tried calling out for them, but they had already left the store.

He felt dejected as he followed the human out of the store, trying to tell them that it was dangerous to go off alone in Devildom like that.

But then he realized, they knew. They knew. They knew each other before they arrived, interacted with them, and were treated as a stranger.

It never really clicked until now.

He linked it to how he would've felt, the envy, and to see MC get close with all of them, while being MC in another world.

He wondered how they hadn't snapped yet.

Or maybe they did, and he didn't notice. He probably wouldn't have cared back then, either.

Leviathan called out to the human.

The human never turned back.

SATAN:

Who would've thought the mighty Satan, the demon of Wrath, the fourth-born, was affected by the disappearance of another demon?

After all, Satan himself didn't.

When he heard the news, he didn't even match the face to the name.

Who was this [Name] [Lastname]? Were they important?

How come he's never heard of them before?

But then, Satan became alert. The Avatar of Wrath had wanted to see for himself what had caused Lucifer's change in mood.

So he began comparing every little detail.

And he realized, one day, when he was strolling through the library.

Wasn't there a demon a while ago?

He vaguely remember walking through the very exact row of shelves, and coming across a demon who was studying their ass off for one of his subjects of interest.

They were there for the day after.

And the day after.

And after.

But now they weren't... Satan frowned. How long had it been since they'd disappeared?

He couldn't help but feel an empty piece inside him, telling him he had messed up and lost what could've been a valuable friend.

He scoffed. How could he? He didn't even know them.

It wasn't until he was walking down the halls, a stack of newly checked-out books in hand, that he met the human again.

[Name] [Lastname], their face struck a familiarity when they crashed into each other again, and books fell onto the ground.

This seemed familiar, did it not?

It seemed they thought so too.

Because the moment he sighed and looked up to comment on something, they were gone.

He understood that the last time the human had bumped into him, they had been yelled at.

He just wanted to talk, so he waited for the time he would meet you again.

He never really did.

ASMODEUS:

Who knew that Asmodeus wouldn't know of the demon whose name was uttered out of their mouth?

Who would've known that said demon became so popular among the RAD Student Council and the Exchange Students?

No one did, and the fifth-born didn't either.

Which is why he wanted to find out what exactly made this... demon so popular.

After all, Asmodeus was usually the one in the center of the drama― and he's never even heard of this [Name]!

But something about them struck a chord of familiarity in his head... He had his huge network of connections, surely he'd find something.

And he did. The Avatar of Lust learned of who [Name] was, and he remembered something he had forgotten for some weeks now.

The demon who asked me for advice...

He had asked for their name, but his Lust and narcissism just shut them out completely.

Oh.

Asmodeus was someone popular. He was famous― a celebrity who had broken hearts (and beds) countless times. A simple rejection such as this shouldn't have left as much impact as it did.

So why, why does he feel so bad?!

It's like this feeling that told him he made a mistake― lost a valuable friend, yet he doesn't even know them!

Wait... he doesn't... know... them...

Oh.

It suddenly clicked for him what Lucifer had meant when he said they were treated as a stranger.

It was such a horrible thing, wasn't it?

The next time they saw each other was when [Name] had brushed past him in the hallways.

They didn't look back at his calls, the words telling them to give him a chance to be their friend.

"Wait― We can talk about― Wait, [Name]!"

But it was too late; they were already gone.

BEELZEBUB:

Beelzebub was the sixth-born, the one who scared people on the outside but was an absolute sweetheart once they got to know him.

Which is why he always sat at the table [Name] once did, gazing at the empty seat with a guilty expression.

He had begun taking extra food with him, in case he (or [Name]) didn't have enough to eat.

Yet, they still disappeared.

Did... Did he do something wrong?

They could tell him if he did, he would've apologized and try to make things right.

He would, really!

The Avatar of Gluttony would sometimes sit with MC or one of the other brothers (mainly Belphie) at the exact table, and they would tell him about their day.

[Name] was helping Belphie with his test?

Belphegor had told him about their routine, but Beel never really thought much about it other than gratitude.

Now he just felt guilt.

So when the human reappeared at the corner table, he was surprised.

They weren't eating anything, despite looking hungry, so he fished out a chocolate bar from his pocket (the same one he had first given them) and placed it on the table.

"You look hungry," he'd say again, "Welcome back. We missed you."

He wasn't oblivious to the way their eyes sparkled with unshed tears, or the way they seemed to shrink back, as if scared to do anything.

It was at this point that he noticed they had no human scent, which was hard to mask to a demon like him.

But he didn't ask, because he had no place to.

They treated [Name] like a stranger, so respecting their privacy was the least they could've done.

But the next day they were gone again.

What did he do wrong?

"[Name]?"

BELPHEGOR:

Belphegor wasn't one to care.

Everything was the same. The same classes, the same lectures, the same people.

The classrooms were the same, the seating arrangements were the same, the chatter was the same.

He still sat by the empty desk where [Name] would've been.

As a demon of Sloth who wasn't supposed to care, he was absolutely pissed that everyone still went on as if nothing was wrong.

As if one of their classmates didn't disappear off the face of this fucking universe.

But then again, [Name] was punished with the punishment of forever being the background character.

The notes for the subjects and his previous notes were all placed neatly in the desk.

No one dared to sit there― the last one who did died in their dreams.

Funny how they cared about that bitch instead of a classmate who did nothing wrong.

The seventh-born was guilty, very much so, that he ended up spending most of his time with Beel (even more than he already did).

The days blurred together until one day it didn't.

Until [Name] was there, sitting at their desk and staring at the notes in confusion.

As if they hadn't left.

"Those are for the subjects you missed," his voice called out, causing their head to snap up. "We're glad you're back, [Name]. Though you got a lot of subjects to catch up on, and I never did get to thank you for your notes."

He pretended not to notice how [Name]'s eyes welled up, how their posture shrank in comparison to before.

He tried not to acknowledge the gaping hole in his heart, one that begged for them to become friends.

He was a part of the problem, after all.

DIAVOLO:

The Prince of Devildom (soon to be crowned King), Diavolo, was a very busy demon.

He had a kingdom to manage, business associates to meet with, and a school to run.

Not to mention the loads of paperwork he splits with Lucifer.

But the Prince refused to let anything like this slip ever again.

[Name] [Lastname] was a student, someone who was hiding under the radar and was punished unfairly for something they didn't do, and he hadn't noticed.

He had failed, both as a principal and as a Prince who wanted to bring peace to all three realms.

The student had been a human. A fucking human in the realm of demons.

"They were a human," he said one day as he confronted Barbatos, "You knew, didn't you? You knew, so why didn't you say anything?"

Diavolo had asked, yes, but he already knew the answer.

After all, as much as Barbatos wanted to serve him, the butler was the Demon of Time. His job was to guard the timelines, etc, even if his loyalty lied to Diavolo alone.

The letter had explained everything, from [Name]'s punishment to why they were given it, and how they would soon return as compensation.

He didn't agree with their decision and system, but he understood why.

One of the worst punishments for someone would be loneliness. So why not give a 'murderer' the punishment of being ostracized by the very people they love?

It was a fitting punishment for those who do such horrible things, yet hard to overcome for those wrongfully accused.

Turning their weak links against them before turning their mind on themself. An interesting strategy.

He hated how it worked. He never saw [Name], even after they returned.

He didn't realize until later that they were avoiding him. He didn't understand why.

[Name] liked them as characters, right?

So why are they running away again?

SIMEON:

Simeon was an angel with a lot of experience with demons.

He, however, never really expected there to be much difference with [Name].

Of course, they were much nicer than normal demons, but he just thought it was about how they were raised.

Just not with the whole penalty thing.

Simeon couldn't help but connect this with a book he wrote outside of the TSL series, something sad and poetic.

It connected with his fanbase a lot, so he'd say it was a success.

Nonetheless, Simeon was at a loss for what to do. The entire situation involving the stranger penalty was a foreign subject to him.

He also couldn't help but feel extremely guilty.

He was one of the only angels in the Devildom, and he had failed to watch over them, even less so than the actual demons there.

Oh, God, I hope they're alright...

His emotional health and self-esteem would've taken a massive hit if they weren't.

Even more than they would've, anyway, but he had a feeling they wouldn't back down so easily.

And Simeon was right: they were back a couple of weeks later.

... With a diminished courage and esteem, while shrinking back as if they're scared of the beings around them.

"Oh, you poor soul," he would mutter, before making his way to their desk.

Belphegor had fallen asleep again, and [Name]'s eyes widened even more when he came up to them, "It's nice to see you again, [Name]. Was your trip alright?"

It was the first time he had asked about them, and he felt horrible about it.

Though it was never too late to fix what he had helped to break, right?

Though it seems that the poor soul wouldn't be able to heal to how it was before, just like in the book.

LUKE:

Wait, where was [Name]?

Luke was a young angel, one so pure and innocent, and he was the first one to realize his friend (even if Simeon was the one who told him their name) was nowhere to be found.

At the time, he didn't think too much of it.

Maybe because they were a demon, and they had their own business to tend to.

So he waited.

And waited.

Until he found a note sticking out of his locker one day from [Name], explaining everything.

'I'm sorry I told you so late, but it wouldn't have done much different...'

He was heartbroken.

"Wait, [Name]..." he had begun to cry, much to the surprise of Simeon and Solomon.

"C-Come back... I didn't mean whatever I said about demons, just don't leave..."

They were surprised, to say the least, but it was a given. Luke was the closest to [Name], after all.

Please...

But he was guilty. So damn guilty. Was it because he failed to protect them?

A human in the Devildom.

Was it because of his comments about how demons were not to be trusted?

Was it because he treated them as a stranger, even if he saw them as a friend?

When he saw them again in the hallway, Luke tackled them into a giant hug.

"I'm sorry!" he would cry, "I didn't mean to make you feel bad! I-I should've h-helped you when y-you were getting chased― I-I'm s-so sorry!"

They would hug them back, even if their expression screamed something that couldn't be repaired so easily.

SOLOMON:

The great and powerful sorcerer Solomon, the one with pacts to seventy-two demons, affected by the disappearance of one measly not-demon?

Ha, he could laugh.

But he won't because it did. Not that he'll ever admit it, though.

You see, the not-demon had a... special relationship to him. Solomon won't say that he was concerned; he couldn't be.

The sorcerer noticed the day they disappeared. Luke did, too, and in such a way that it brought Simeon's attention to the situation as well.

When the news had gone out around the Student Council and the Exchange Students, his entire demeanour faded.

To have such a fate placed upon them... It was something that could cause a normal human to break so easily.

It was a surprise that [Name] would be able to stand all of that.

Or maybe they didn't, and broke in private where Solomon couldn't see.

It didn't matter (that much) to him.

What mattered was that they were a human in the realm of demons with a demonic aura despite not having any aptitude for magic.

So, being the most powerful sorcerer to, like, ever exist, Solomon found out pretty quickly.

And when they returned, he would confront them for the first time, a smile on his face.

"You must be [Name], right?" he would ask, the same smile he had on when he met MC. [Name] stiffened, "You've built quite a reputation among the exchange students and the student council..."

He would never admit that he cared― at least not at first.

But when they had begun to avoid him, he finally let himself realize that he had cared about them.

In all his years of living, Solomon was constantly left behind, whether by death or by some other force.

He thought [Name] would've understood.

But, he guessed, I must've been too hopeful this time.

MC:

MC's life was not that different.

What could they say? It wasn't like they interacted much with [Name] in the first place.

But they felt guilty.

They had learned of what happened to [Name], beaten and bruised.

They found out about their situation, how they were falsely accused and punished with such a horrible thing.

It was... sickening, for lack of a better word.

They wanted to apologize― to fix things after they left [Name] alone to fend for themselves.

They, a human representative, left a fellow human to fend for themself against a group of demons.

They, a human exchange student, had ignored their look for help in favour of talking with Luke and Simeon.

They, as someone who [Name] had helped, didn't try to help them and left them for dead.

If the person would― could forgive them, they didn't know.

Mc wanted to make things right.

But when they met again, [Name] wouldn't meet their eyes.

It was astounding how such a thing― such a punishment― could do to an innocent person like them.

"[Name]? Are you alright?"

But [Name] wouldn't answer.

[barbwritesstuff]

The hate mail on this website is WILD.

This is a really old ask, but I was scrolling around in my inbox, saw this, and realised I actually have something I want to say about this, so... here we are.

Very occasionally, on www.tumblr.com, people send me mean, shitty, ignorant, and/or [insert-minority-group-here]phobic asks. My policy has always been to just delete them. The way I figure, if I never respond to that sort of thing, then no one but me ever reads them, so no one but me will be annoyed or upset.

And honestly, most of the time that thought stops any annoyance or upsetness in its tracks, so I feel better too.

The more frequent asks I get which suck are bots pretending to be victims of war, begging for money, a concept so dystopian and ghoulish it genuinely makes me yearn for the pornbots of yore.

When it comes to human grown grossness though, I see way more of that on other social media sites, and over there, it's not in my inbox where it can be easily deleted without anyone else ever seeing it, it's fully just in the comment sections, no anon, no nothing, just bare faced yuck. And yeah, I know a lot of them are just engagement farming, half of them are also probably bots, but half aren't, and that just isn't fun for me.

Call me old fashioned, but I'd rather hang out on a social media site that's chill than wade from the quagmire of some of the more popular ones.

Anyway, yeah. If I've posted an ask, then it's genuinely not something I think is hateful. Perhaps I've missed a dog whistle, in which case please let me know, but most of the time it's just me being playful with anons who I think are also being playful.

I hope that makes sense.

[sturn777]

readers reaction to rapper!chris new song "now we're strangers" (central cee) about them and their messy break up :(

now we're strangers ,, rapper!chris x reader

you don’t even have to press play. you already know.

but you do anyway.

the beat rolls in smooth, heavy, the kind that creeps under your skin and settles deep in your bones. his voice follows a second later, familiar in a way that makes your stomach twist.

"i can still recite your number off by heart..."

your breath catches.

you hate how true it is.

he could dial your number in his sleep, same way you could recognize his voice in a crowded room, even now. but what does that matter when he never calls anymore?

"you can leave, but we can't erase the memories..."

like hell you can.

they stick, no matter how hard you scrub them away. the late night drives, the stolen kisses between studio sessions, the way his hoodie still sits at the bottom of your closet because you can’t bring yourself to throw it out.

your grip on your phone tightens as the verse continues.

"broke my baby's heart, and now she partyin' and hoein'..."

your eyes narrow. hoe? is that what he thinks?

your lips curl in irritation. typical. he messes up, and suddenly you're the villain for moving on. you knew he’d find a way to spin the story, lace his guilt into a beat and let the world sympathize with him.

but it still doesn’t stop the way your heart clenches when he says,

"say your skin's breakin' out because i cause you stress

then you left, you're lookin' sexier than ever and you're glowin’..."

you swallow hard.

so he noticed.

he always noticed.

but it doesn’t change anything, does it?

your phone buzzes in your lap.

you blink, staring at the screen.

he’s waiting. waiting for you to react, to call, to tell him he’s wrong—or worse, to tell him he’s right.

your fingers hover over the keyboard. type. delete. type again.

what do you even say?

that the song made your chest ache? that hearing his voice still does something to you, even when you wish it wouldn’t? that you still think about him when you're alone at night, even though you’d rather die than admit it?

your hands shake, frustration bubbling up.

he doesn’t deserve a response.

not this time.

he’ll have to sit with this one.

you don’t even check the messages ; just see his name light up your phone, over and over again, until it’s nothing but an annoying reminder that he still gets to you.

that one makes you pause. bet? bet what?

but you don’t have to wonder long.

a sharp knock at your door sends a jolt through your chest.

you already know who it is.

you make him knock again before you finally push yourself off the couch, fingers curling around the doorknob. you take a deep breath, school your face into something indifferent, and pull it open.

there he is.

same chain. same low eyes, scanning your face like he’s tryna figure out just how mad you are. he’s got a bouquet in one hand, white roses, your favorite, like he ain’t just rapped about breaking your heart in front of millions of people.

“hey, baby.” his voice is smooth, almost lazy, but you know him too well. his jaw flexes like he’s holding back something, like he doesn’t really wanna be here, but has to be.

you cross your arms, unimpressed. “what do you want?”

he huffs a soft laugh, shaking his head. “knew you’d be on some shit.” he pushes the flowers toward you, tilting his head. “take ‘em.”

you hesitate, eyeing him for a second before snatching them from his hand. they smell good. annoyingly good.

“so what? you think you can just pull up with flowers and i’ll forget you dropped a whole song about me?”

he exhales through his nose, shoving his hands in his pockets. “never said that.”

“but you're here.”

he tilts his head, watching you, and you hate how easy it is to fall back into this. the quiet stares, the unspoken shit that lingers between you both.

you shift your weight, glancing down at the flowers. “why’d you really come, chris?”

he steps forward. “wanted to see you.”

your breath catches.

his fingers brush against your arm, slow, deliberate, like he’s testing the waters.

“wanted to see if you was really done with me,” he mutters, voice lower now. “or if you just tryna act like it.”

your throat tightens. “i am.”

his lips twitch. “yeah?”

you don’t say anything. you don’t pull away when he reaches up, thumb brushing against your jaw.

his eyes flick to your lips. “you still mad at me?”

you should be. you were.

but he leans in, and you don’t move.

he smirks, just a little, before pressing his lips to yours.

and just like that, you lose.

──────────────────────────────

© STURN777

[luvs4matt]

clearing a few things up said by rory in this post.

first i am going to talk about this. when rose kicked them, it was because she noticed the mean behavior coming from the gc she was already in so she kicked everyone else that was also in that gc along with rory.

getting kicked from a gc is not that serious, it’s an oh well moment, but not for rory.

rose blocked her soon after because rory immediately went into her dms cussing her out which below is provided ss of their conversation. she was given the chance to speak to her and she did, just not in the way she should’ve. she did not have to take it to her blog.

next, this.

i was saying facts, not just being rude, that is not the person i am. i was stating that rylee has my same au word for word, 0 differences. i was also using that as my defense for rory sending much hate to my dilf!matt au.

coming to someones defense is actually defending and clearing their name on something when needed, not coming to a girls comments to start issues which becomes harassment, straight insults, and bringing up the girls other friend who had absolutely nothing to do with the situation that wasn’t even a situation before you got involved. (ss here of all reblogs made, all comments can be found under this blurb)

next.

so you and gen just so happen to be good friends and in the same gc while rose and gen had a very public friendship, but you had no mutual friends, nor did you know..? right..

“i was kicked before making the post” so you had 0 intentions of handling it privately! you planned to make a post and start more drama. again.

the jokes about fingering matts butt were not between an adult and a minor directly, and even if it was, that honestly isn’t bad, it is jokes people, not asking a child about their sex life.

you can be harmful to minors when harassing them and leading your friends to do it too! you started at 6pm and ended at 11pm, you ended after i tried to reach out to jules but i was blocked, i tried to reach out to rylee, i reached out to rory directly, i was going to reach out to jules through maria, but then genesis finally answered my message and that is what got you to stop.

i agree, i am not a baby, but my communication was not off. i was not disrespectful before i needed to be and that was shown in past ss which i believe i have now deleted if i remember correctly.

i will not dm you because i refuse to unblock you on any platforms, even if i do reach out, all you would do is try to argue, and quite frankly, i don’t have anything nice to say to you.

next.

this is the one thing rory didn’t lie about. she was not the one to say i was writing ddlg, it was genesis. the same genesis who was requesting a week before hand, and only a day before telling me how much they love and need dilf!matt. they said that because they wanted approval and wanted rylee to like them.

i do not believe i write ddlg because i have my storylines for many things but i do not get many asks actually asking about the au so i have not been able to explain it. or maybe i am just in denial because i get disgusted at some of the things involved in ddlg, idfk 😭.

next.

i never posted anything publicly about rylee until i started being harassed and rylee can tell you that herself. rory was the first to say anything publicly, and was also the one who made it drama, it was not any kind of drama before rory inserted herself.

i really don’t care if i name dropped first, i was trying to get my point across, and people would’ve figured it out anyways.

if coming at someone is politely asking someone why they removed my au credit then they get attitude with me, then i guess i came at her many times.

you did say hurtful things to me, if the things you did wouldn’t effect me at all then why would i go through everything i did after the fact? i will not get into all of these things because i don’t want it to seem like i am looking for sympathy.

i started the au before it became semi common on tumblr, i started it a year ago after searching for 6 MONTHS of anything close to my au on all platforms, no dilf!matt found, none of the same persona, so i made the au and assumed i made it. it came to my attention very recently that i did not fully create the au, but i do still believe i was the first to write him in that way, i was the first to start writing him multiple times instead of just once and making him an actual character, and popularized him on tumblr. it did become a “commonly used au” until recently, not a year ago when i started. i had every right asking for credit of an au that i was under the impression that i started because no one corrected me the whole year. after i was made aware of me not being the first, i reached out to everyone, besides rude bitches, about me no longer needing credit unless inspo was used.

to this anon, i did not respond earlier because i simply did not feel like it, and did not want to deal with anymore of your bs about me “dragging it and always posting about it”, but i will respond here since i bet you are reading this.

all of these posts have been made in the last week which was either only talking about the situation or mentioned it.

all of the apologies were half assed and didn’t mean anything. they either apologized that it was POSTED, copied and pasted apologies, used memes, or blamed others on tumblr.

my own personal notes.

everything with maria has been cleared up on all ends, but for her sake, please do not mention her in any posts or mention her in any of these drama posts. this is just a precaution so nothing of these sorts interfere with her mental health. if you have any questions, you can come to her yourself, but if you are not nice and don’t approach it correctly then you will be blocked and i will be fighting you 🩷 (i’m joking chat… but not really)

same thing goes for rose. please do not mention her in posts made, i don’t like seeing my friends mental health being ruined over tumblr so please do the same thing for rose as maria! if you have any questions regarding both of them, they are both open to answering if approached the correct way, if for some reason you do not have access to ask them said questions, then you can message me and i can ask for you.

tags — @cvnntagiouss @bernardsbendystraws @mattsmatcha @nickssidewitch @nickspennies @mattysangelgirl @y3sterdaysproblem @chrisspussygang @tripoutsweirdos

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

End Game 4

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, stalking, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your gaming buddy asks to meet up but it doesn’t go exactly as planned.

Characters: Andy Barber

Note: I'm a sleepy babay.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

There’s a finality to the tap of your thumb. You hold the block button for a moment before you let it go. The window pops up asking if you’re sure. Yes. Certain. This is just a mistake and when you’re older and wiser, you’ll be thankful you made it. If you even remember it. 

You lay back and put your phone down. Done. Over. No more Jacob. No Andy.  

Maybe you’ll go back and see Kara again, or she can come here, even if she hates this town. You can at least be thankful that it reconnected you two, and you have to be grateful to learn a hard lesson. Don’t mess with strangers online. You’re better off alone. 

You close your eyes. You’re exhausted. Mentally, emotionally, and yes, physically. Who knew scooping ice cream could be so much work? 

When you wake up, you’re sore and still groggy. The sun peers in at you brightly in the slat between the curtains. You groan and hide under the pillow. Your shift starts at noon. You can’t spend all morning doing nothing or the whole day is wasted. 

You drag yourself out of bed. Your grandma is still asleep. You’re sure she was up until dawn with her latest haul from the used book store. You clean up the cluster of wrappers around her chair and tidy up the kitchen, dumping the old coffee and brewing a new pot. 

You go to grab your phone and pause as you see an unusual notification. Your email? Huh. You don’t really use that besides for school. You open it up, thinking it might be about enrolment. No. It’s him. Andy. Holy moly. 

You scroll up and down, skimming the blocks of text. Oh god. You hit delete. You’re not reading all that. You said what needed to be said. 

You have your coffee and load the machine for whenever your mother gets out of bed. You eat and wash up, catching up on some Youtube before you make yourself get your uniform on. You head out, walking to work to enjoy the sunshine, and key in between tying on your apron and chatting with Gavin, the high schooler who does half-shifts every now and then.  

He leaves at four and you have your complimentary cone just after five. Peanut butter chocolate; classic. You eat at the window as you watch the mostly empty street. Your phone vibrates and you slide it out, hoping to take advantage of the lull. 

WhatsApp request? No way. The shammy recruiters always want a piece of you. At least you never fell for that. 

You bite into the cone and your phone suddenly blows up with Insta notifications. Bots! Ugh. So annoying. Every new follower is faceless with some generated name. You mute the notifications and put your cell away. You really are a boring person. 

As you look up, tires crush over a patch of gravel and your barely catch a glimpse of the car as it rolls just around the corner. You feel like you’ve missed something. Maybe your grandma is right about you always having your nose buried in a screen. Who is she to talk? She lives in her novels. 

Your shift ends at eight. You lock up and stop by the convenience store down the block. Nothing special, just a tray of carbonara you can shove in the nuke. As you pay at the counter, the door chimes to signal another customer. You accept your meagre meal as the other patron strides into the aisle. You don’t look over as you go directly for the door. You’re starving for more than a scoop. 

Your footsteps seem to echo through the dull streets. The frozen meal makes your hand hurt as your other holds your cell phone close. You text Kara as you finally get through the essay she wrote about Calvin’s latest antics. You wish you could convince her to play something. You feel aimless without an analog stick under your thumb. 

There’s a scuff, close behind you, loud enough to make you jump. You fumble with your phone and glance over your shoulder. You don’t see anything but the thick oak outside Luella’s. Ugh. Alright, you need to eat and lay down. It hasn’t been a busy day but still a long one. 

You pass through your grandma’s front door. She’s where she always is, in her chair, but something’s off. Something’s different. The smell of pollen hangs in the air and a pot stands on the coffee table with several white orchids tall in the soil. You frown. The last time you got her flowers, she didn’t even put them in a vase. 

“Oh, those are pretty,” you say. 

“Mph, not mine,” she grumbles, not looking up. 

“Not... who’s...” 

“Delivery man said your name. I didn’t read the card. I’m not a snoop.” 

You nod, thankful at least that she isn’t nosy. You go to the table and examine the pot. Who would send you flowers? 

You take the card off the tall pronged stick and open the envelope. You slide out the paper and unfold it. 

‘I know I’ve told you a million times, so I’ll show you how sorry I am instead. Yours always, Andy.’ 

You nearly drop your handful. Your eyes flick up to the pot and you have to stop yourself from pushing it off the table. What the hell? How... how does he know where you live? You never even mentioned what town you’re from. He only knows your college and it’s so small, he wouldn’t have heard of it. 

It’s enough to unsettle you. That he knows where you live is bad enough but the flowers themselves make a point. It’s not over. He’s not walking away but what else can you say to make him? Didn’t he get it? You think were pretty nice considering. 

“You got some boy?” Your grandma raises her eyes from the page. You can’t remember the last time she even bothered looking at you. 

“Not exactly,” you tuck the card away and put it in your pocket. “I’m going to make my dinner.” 

“Eh,” she grumbles, “fine. Get them flowers somewhere else. They stink.” 

You lift the vase, hugging it around the pot, and carry it from the room. You balance it against your hip and go into the kitchen. You use your free hand to pull open the freezer and put the pasta inside. You’re not so hungry anymore. 

🎮

The irises are pretty. The pot they came in is fancy, probably expensive. It underlines once more the gap between you and the real Jacob. Between you and Andy.

It only reminds you of how ridiculous you must have sounded. So, you just can’t understand why he’s doing this? Why is he still trying? For you? A girl with dwindling hopes of even finishing her low-tier college degree. 

You try to forget. You don’t have a shift that day but you can’t just sit around. Usually, you would. You’d hole up in your bedroom and play video games. Not anymore. He ruined that. You’re disappointed you’re letting him. 

You got down to the library for a while and wander around. There’s nothing there you’re very interested in. They still haven’t got the latest release in the series you’d read in high school. Oh well, you’ll wait around until one day you learn the fate of those revolutionary spies. 

You walk the main strip of the town. It isn’t very extensive. There’s a coffee shop and the used bookstore which also carries hobby supplies. There’s the same diner that’s been there since you were a kid and the interchangeable business that open and close year after year. 

There’s a vibe in your pocket. It’s not Kara. Another WhatsApp request, more Insta bots, and Discord. You haven’t been on the server in ages. You couldn’t keep up with all the channels and most of it was arguing about mining strategies. 

It’s Andy. Frig. You should’ve blocked him there too. You just hadn’t thought of it. 

‘Did you like the flowers?’ 

You don’t answer but he’ll see that you read it. It isn’t long before he’s typing. 

‘I am still very sorry. I wish you’d talk to me. Hear me out.’ 

Hear him out? He said everything. His son is dead and he lied to you. That’s not anything you can hash out. 

‘I know you’re not working today. I’ll make a new world and we can chat there.’ 

No. That’s not going to happen. Over. O-V-E-R. It’s done. You’re not going to be like Kara. When you cut the cord, it’s snipped. 

You won’t answer. That’s just bait. He’ll keep nibbling if you do that. You press the chat settings and block. That’s better, you can’t breathe. 

You put your phone on silent and back in your pocket. You wish you had the money to try the sushi place. It won’t last long in the bodunk town so you probably won’t ever get to. Oh well. Back on campus, they sell decent California rolls at the cafeteria. Decent, not necessarily good. 

You go home. To your grandma’s house. It doesn’t always feel like home. You know she’s counting the days until you leave. You are too. 

You wish you were brave enough to apologise. To say sorry your mom and dad didn’t want you. That she got stuck with you. It feels like saying it out loud would be worse. Just wallow in the unspoken resent, one day you won’t ever come back and maybe then you can both be happy. 

In your room, you don’t know what to do with yourself. Your Switch taunts you from across the room. You want to mine or race or even scare yourself with some Hellblade. You can’t. More Youtube. More wasted time. That’s what people like you do; people from small towns with no one who loves them and no money; waste time. 

The mindless videos help you relax but not forget. You just can’t get rid of the little tickle at the back of your head. There’s a tinge of shame that remains and a sliver of guilt. It will go. It has to, one day. 

You catch yourself staring at the orchid. You can smell it. You want to throw it away but that feels rude. Even if Andy would never know, even if you shouldn’t care. He hurt you, didn’t he? He lied. Well, you could give it to Mahalia next door, she loves flowers. 

You lay in indecision. You don’t want to do anything but lay there. Now that you’re still, you have no strength. Your day off is chipped away in your laziness.  

The next day awaits you with another shift at the booth. And the day after and the day after. 

Your fourth day in a row and you get a new Discord message. You know even before you open it, even by the blank avatar and nondescript username. It’s him. Just leave me alone. Let it go. Let me forget. 

‘I know you don’t want to hear from me but I need you to hear me. I can’t stop thinking of you and what happened. I can do better. Please, let me apologise.’ 

Blocked. Again.

Work. Again.  

You’re half asleep as you fill cones with soft serve. You smile and swallow yawns, faking it for the hyper children and cheerful couples. 

When it slows, you work on cleaning the freezer, switching out empty containers with ones from the deep freeze. As you check the soft serve, there’s a tap on the open walk-up window. Oh shoot. You should’ve been paying better attention. 

You turn back to greet the next customer but as you approach the window, your chest deflates. Frozen, like the tubs around you. You stare at Andy as he smiles at you. He wears a short-sleeve button up with blue, grey, and white stripes. His hair blows in the soft breeze. 

“Do you have butterscotch ripple?” He asks brightly. 

You blink and hesitate. You don’t know what to do. How did he get here? How did he find you? Why is he here? 

You reach for the window and before he can stop you, you shut it. You lock it from the inside and step back. His face falls and his brow arches as he stands straight. He says your name, his voice muffled by the glass, and puts his palm to the barrier. 

“Please,” he begs. 

You shake your head and turn your back to him. If your manager was here, you’d be in shit. That’s a no-no. Never turn away a customer, only shut the window when you lock up. 

You ignore him and go back to tidying. There could be a line up out there but you don’t care. Your hands are shaking and it’s not just the temperature.

You just can’t believe he’s there. You can’t believe he won’t just give up. You don’t want to believe it because you’re afraid. You’re terrified and he seems entirely clueless about how scary he’s being. 

Flowers are one thing but showing up at your job? That’s a flaming red flag that even you can see. Not only because you told him plainly that you don’t want to talk to him again, but because he’s a grown man. Fortysomething and he can’t take a hint. Why would a man his age want to talk to someone as young as you? That’s another red flag on its own. As if catfishing you wasn’t enough. 

[prettyshittywriting]

"He hit me and it felt like a kiss"

Caitlyn Kiramman x fem reader (PART2)

somewhat toxic/angst??

PART1⬇️⬇️

You hadn’t seen Caitlyn since the night you walked in on her and Vi tangled together in your bed—the bed you once shared, the bed she promised was only yours. Since then, the texts never stopped, flooding in like an unstoppable tide, filled with every excuse and desperate apology under the sun.

At first, you ignored them. Deleted them before you could even read the words. But Caitlyn was persistent. When texts failed, she called. Again and again. You considered blocking her number, erasing her completely, but deep down, you still wanted something—closure, revenge, or maybe just to see her break the way she broke you.

So, when Caitlyn’s 69th call came through, you finally answered.

The silence stretched for only a second before you heard her breath hitch—a sharp, desperate sound, as if she hadn’t allowed herself to breathe until now.

“Please,” she whispered, her voice hoarse from crying. “Please, just let me explain.”

You could have hung up right then. You should have. But something inside you wanted to hear her beg. Wanted to hear her stumble over her words, to grasp at the fragile remains of what she destroyed with her own hands.

"...Fine," you muttered. “Come over.”

And just like that, you set the stage.

The first time you saw Caitlyn cry, you almost felt bad. Almost.

She stood on your front porch, shivering, her eyes red-rimmed and glassy. She looked so small, so unlike the Caitlyn you once knew—the confident, put-together woman who always had a plan, always knew what to do. Now, she was nothing but a mess of regret and ruin.

You took your time opening the door, took your time watching her from the warmth of your home while she trembled in the cold. Was it the weather making her shake? Or was it you?

You liked the idea that it was you.

“Please,” she whispered, voice barely audible over the wind. “Tell me we can fix this.”

You should end it here. You should crush her under your heel and walk away without looking back.

But where’s the fun in that?

Instead, you reached out, brushing your fingers against her cheek, just the way you used to. She leaned into your touch, eyes fluttering shut as if savoring something she thought she’d never feel again.

“Of course, baby,” you murmured, your voice soft, sweet, the way she needed it to be. “I just… I need time.”

And that was all it took.

Hope bloomed in her eyes, raw and desperate, like she was drowning and you were the only hand reaching out to save her.

And so it began.

You let her back in. Let her take you out for coffee. Let her send good morning and goodnight texts like nothing had changed. Let her think she was winning you back.

She tried so hard.

She brought you flowers—your favorites, the ones she used to get just because. She whispered apologies into your hair, into your skin, into the spaces between your fingers when she held your hand. She asked what you needed, what she could do, how she could be better, as if she could rewrite the past with sheer effort alone.

She was the perfect little soldier, marching straight into your trap.

One night, she came over, hesitant at first, her hands unsure. But when you pulled her into your bed, all hesitation melted away. It was desperate, familiar, frantic in the way only regret and longing could be. You let her believe it was the night that fixed everything.

You let her hold you after, her arms wrapped around you like she could protect you from what she had done.

You let her whisper promises that meant nothing.

You let her hope.

And then, the final act.

The next night, she took you to dinner—somewhere quiet, intimate, a place she once told you reminded her of home. She reached across the table, her thumb tracing slow, loving circles over your knuckles, the way she used to when things were still good.

“I love you,” she said, her voice soft, full of something raw and pleading.

You tilted your head, watching her, letting the silence stretch just long enough for panic to flicker in her eyes.

Then, you smiled.

“Oh, Caitlyn,” you murmured, voice dripping with cruel amusement. “You didn’t actually think this was real, did you?”

Her breath hitched.

You pulled your hand away, laughing lightly, as if this was all some harmless joke. But the way her face crumpled, the way her lip trembled—oh, she knew the truth.

“You—” Her voice broke before she could finish. “You lied to me?”

“Sweetheart,” you sighed, feigning disappointment. “You lied to yourself.”

And with that, you stood, leaving her sitting there in the dim glow of the restaurant, heart shattered into pieces she’d never be able to put back together the same way again.

And oh, didn’t that feel good?

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

i lowkey feel bad for Caitlyn even if she deserves it😪😪

part 2 for the ppl who requested it!

hope yall enjoy!

(you won't, this is bad😭🙏)

feel free to leave requests