#I'm a dumb bitch with no talent | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

elllisaaa · 1 year ago

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no nut november - han jisung (5th to lose)

-> pairing : han x fem!reader

-> words count : 5k

-> genre : smut, ennemies-to-lovers

-> warnings : switch!han swearing, teasing, dirty talk, praising, protected sex, oral (f. and m. receiving), face sitting, deep throathing, masturbation (m. and f.), use of 'good girl' and 'baby boy', marking, hair pulling, begging, a little bit of angst because han and y/n are dumb + the way i'm depicting jisung does not represent him, it's only a work of fiction

-> 18+ content bellow, minors dni

-> reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated ! sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language.

-> masterlist | skz masterlist | no nut november

“- Are you serious !?”

Your smirk widened as you heard his annoyed voice ringing in the room. He must have found out that you finished Felix’s cookie. But Felix was your best friend, you didn’t like Han and you were hungry. Logical conclusion : you ate them regardless. The door of your room swung open as Jisung bursted into it, visibly furious. You turned around in your chair, your eyes falling in his angry ones immediately.

“- Serious about what ?

- Please ! I know you’re dumb but not that much.”

And your smile told it all : you knew very well what he was talking about, but pretending you didn’t and irritating him even more was always entertaining.

“- Oh ! The cookies, is that it ?

- Yes, that’s it !

- Well, how could’ve I known that you wanted one ?

- You could’ve been nice, for once in your life ?

- Towards you ? Never !

- I hate you.”

Jisung didn’t give you the time to answer but you didn’t mind, you just watched him storming out of your room, bragging about how much of a bitch you were.

“- I hate you too, don’t worry !”

You heard a door slamming somewhere in the apartment, and you laughed quietly at the noise, happy to have angered him to the point he left once again. It was either him or you who ran away from your arguments, but it was always about silly things like these cookies. You preferred to avoid serious subjects. It was safer, because you knew yourself, and you thus knew you were capable of saying the wrong thing very easily. The only thing you allowed yourself to do in his presence was fighting and teasing him, because you knew that he was attracted to you as much as you were to him.

In the first place, you weren’t seeing him as anything but a talented guy. You became trainees almost at the same time, and he was so much better than you at everything. He was good at dancing, singing, rapping, and composing music. Everything he did was immediately incredible, just because it was him. You weren’t bad, not at all, but having this as your goal to reach and surpass was overwhelming and putting pressure on you. On top of that, Jisung had a good personality. He was kind, funny and a good friend. He even tried to help you a few times, but all you had in mind was that he was your rival, your enemy. So, you pushed him away, not seeing the disappointment in his eyes everytime you did.

And little by little, your frustration of not being able to do at least as good as him started to become hate, until the point there was no going back, until the point the only thing holding you back from saying it all to him was your career. Jisung must have sensed your hostility, because he started to look at you from afar, he stopped trying to talk to you and you felt relieved somehow - you couldn’t have carried on with this behavior if he kept being so gentle with you.

The thing was that you couldn’t help being attracted to him, even after all your arguments, after all that jealousy. With time, it all faded to end up in a bittersweet habit that you didn’t want to break, afraid that it would shatter the only relationship that you had with him. You weren’t jealous anymore, but you didn’t know how to act around him, other than arguing for the most stupid things.

__________________________________________________________________________________

“- Felix !”

You jumped in your friend’s arms, happy to see him after this exhausting night. You liked to see other people, but award shows were always nerve wracking for you. Your favorite part of it was just starting : the after party. Felix guided you to a table where he poured you a drink that you definitely needed and deserved after all the hard work you put in to win this award. As you were talking with him, you let your eyes wander around the room until they landed on Jisung.

He must have felt your gaze on him because he turned to you, his eyes fixed on yours. Your smile widened when he looked down, checking out your outfit. When he glanced at you again, you felt like a fire had started to burn into your stomach. He always had that effect on you, raising up something you didn’t want to think about. What you wanted to think about right now was your plan.

Your plan was to make him surrender. Felix had told you about their stupid bet once, when he was a little drunk with you, and you decided to take advantage of it, you decided to make Han lose. If there was only one thing about him that you knew, it’s that he was as attracted to you as you were to him. You tried almost everything you could to bring him to the edge. But you didn’t get any reactions out of him, which was really starting to irritate you.

So, tonight was the night. If you got nothing from him this time too, you would give up. And maybe it would help you to move on from him, finally. Deep inside, you really hoped he would react, because you didn’t want to stop seeing him, teasing him, fighting with him. It was the good part of each one of your days, you didn’t want it to stop.

And you didn’t stop, spending the whole night touching him even when it wasn’t necessary, staying close to him even if you didn’t address a word to him, teasing him even if he seemed more and more tense as time passed by. But it wasn’t like you were exactly calm yourself, on the contrary. You drank, and drank, and drank to relax, until the point you were a bit tipsy. You were less anxious, but the control you had over your words worsened too quickly. You would have to stop with alcohol if you wanted to keep a little dignity.

And as you laughed one more time at one of Jeongin’s joke, you landed your hand on Jisung’s arm, feeling a shiver running on his bare skin. He got rid of his stage outfit, instead wearing black tight jeans and a white shirt tucked inside, making his waist look so slutty you practically drooled at the sight. Suddenly, your wrist was trapped inside the iron grip of his fingers, leaving you no other choice than to follow him when he excused himself, pulling you with him to the hallway, slamming the door shut behind the two of you.

“- What do you think you’re doing ?”

He was breathing heavily, as if he was holding back from saying or doing something - and you hoped it was from fucking you right there. You smiled innocently under his lustful gaze, trying not to seem too excited by the whole situation.

“- I didn’t do anything Jisung… What do you think I’m doing ?”

Han took a step towards you, checking you out without an ounce of shame. Why should he after all ? You did that too many times to count, couldn’t really hold it against him now.

“- I think you’re trying to make me lose. It’s all about that bet, isn’t it ? Wanted to see me fall apart since the first day.

- And ? Did it work ?”

You watched closely when he licked his lips, wondering what he could do to your body with that exact same tongue. He took another step towards you, and another, until his face was only inches away from yours.

“- You want to see how much ?

- Yes.”

Your voice came out shaky, but Jisung didn’t seem to mind since he took your face into his hands, lowering his lips to the point they were almost touching yours. He took a second or two, taking in your whole face as if he wanted to remember it forever. But quickly, everything that wasn’t his lips on yours left your mind : the moment he kissed you, the world got blurred.

Han’s hands found their way to your hips, gripping on them to keep you as close to him as possible. You ran your fingers through his hair, opening your mouth gladly when you felt his tongue licking your lips, moaning when he deepened the kisses. You felt your back hit the wall behind you, and Jisung’s body pressing into yours. You smiled lightly when his erection pressed up against your thigh. All you did was for that exact moment, for the moment he’ll finally give up.

Without a word, you pushed him away from you just enough for you to get on your knees, your hands searching for his belt immediately. But Jisung stopped you just as quickly, putting his hands on yours. Your eyes fell into his, absolutely loving what you saw. It was what you wanted all along, seeing how much he wanted you. He was out of breath, his cheeks were bright red, his hair were messy thanks to your hands and his gaze was shining with envy. He was just so hot, without even trying.

“- We shouldn’t do that…

- What ? You’re gonna tell me you don’t want me to suck your dick ?”

You distinctly saw him shallow, his eyes wandered all around the corridor before they came back to you.

“- I just don’t want you to be seen loving it so much.”

His fucking smirk was back, and you never thought you’ll like it this much one day. But you did. And as his hands left yours, you came back to your previous activity, unbuckling his belt and sliding his clothes just enough to free his cock. You stuck your tongue out, licking just his tip playfully, and then all along his dick.

“- Hurry up, we can’t get caught.”

You chuckled lightly ; of course he didn’t want to admit that he was just craving your touch. But he wasn’t totally wrong. You were in a hallway, and even if it was late and that the probability of someone walking on you was very low, maybe it could happen. And to be honest, you were excited by this idea, by someone seeing how desperate Jisung was for you, that he needed you to the point he couldn’t hold back until you were alone - ignoring the fact that you offered that.

Maybe he was desperate, but you were eager to please him too, to finally feel him and taste him. You took his cock in your mouth little by little, relaxing your throat with slow moves of your head. When your nose touched his pubis, you could tell Jisung was really lost in his pleasure. His eyes were closed, his head thrown back, and his mouth was hanging open, letting out whimpers and pleas.

“- I swear if you don’t start to move I’m going to lose my mind…”

Jisung could have easily taken your hair and made you move himself, but he was so putty in your hands his body wasn’t responding anymore. You grabbed his thighs for support - and not because you wanted to touch them, not at all - then, you finally started to bob your head. You heard Han whine loudly, biting his lower lip immediately to prevent any other sound to escape his mouth.

“- S-Shit ! You’re too good at that…”

Maybe you would have responded, if your mouth wasn’t full. One of his hand flew to your hair, gripping on them tightly when you hollowed your cheeks and twirled your tongue around his cock. He was hitting the back of your throat with each move you’d make, and you could sense that he was holding back from fucking your mouth, you could feel his dick twitching. But you didn’t want him to restrain himself. No. You wanted him to completely let go, completely give in to you. So you sucked him harder.

“- F-Fuck ! Don’t stop… Please.”

You let his cock fall out of your mouth, licking on it a few times before glancing back at him. He looked fucked out already, and you liked it too much for your own good.

“- No need to beg for it baby… Serve yourself.”

His dick was back in your mouth before he could say a single word, a moan escaping his lips instead. Jisung let out another obscenity before he started to thrust into your mouth slowly, not wanting to hurt you at first, but he quickly lost control at how tight your throat felt around him. Your eyes filled up with tears as he started fucking your mouth faster, roughly, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care when he was seemingly on the edge of his climax.

Han knew he had to stop. He should have stopped before cumming, he would’ve still participated in the bet. However, he couldn't. He couldn’t stop himself, he couldn’t stop you. He was dreaming about this for too long to stop now. All he wanted was to shoot his load down your throat and then bury his face in your pussy for hours.

“- Oh God ! I-I can’t… I- Fuck, baby !”

You felt his cock twitch in your mouth once again, and then his hot cum landed directly in your throat, leaving you no other choice but to swallow it, moaning too when you finally tasted him. Some of his seed spilled out of your mouth, dripping on your chin and then on the floor, but your mind was focused on how sweet Jisung’s voice was sounding, whimpering your name as you licked him clean. He seemed to definitely lose it when you gathered the cum resting on your chin on your thumb, sucking on it right after.

When you got back on your feets, your knees were aching, and your jaw too. But it was worth it, especially when you saw Han trying to recompose himself by arranging his hair, trying to look unbothered but you could see his hands shaking. Were you in a better state ? Not really since your panties were soaked in your arousal, sticking to your cunt. And you knew by the way he had gripped your hair that they were probably too messy to only look like you two had another argument.

“- Y/N ?”

You were about to head back inside after arranging your hairstyle a bit, trying to not let him see how shaken you were by what had just happened. You put on a mask of confidence before turning to look at him, finding Han buried in a state of nervousness you’ve never seen him into before. He had always been that cocky guy around you, full of himself as if he knew the effect he had on you, not that anxious boy scratching the back of his neck and barely looking at you.

“- What ?

- Do… Do you want to come with me to the hotel ? I didn’t even had the chance to show you how well I can use that tongue…”

If he had let you see a vulnerable side of him, it disappeared quickly, only to let you contemplate that smug smile of his. You sighed, holding back your own smile to spread across your face. Wasn’t that what you waited for ?

“- You’ll have to make it worth it baby.”

He tried no to show how much this nickname was affecting him, or how turned on your smirk was getting him already. You had certainly noticed at this point, but he had always been admirative of your ability to act like nothing happened even when you should have been crying. Like this time when you performed for your monthly evaluations with a broken ankle, smiling at the jury as if you weren’t dying on the inside. Or like right now, as you were jocking around with Felix and San, as if he wasn’t fucking your throat minutes ago. Jisung would never say it out loud, but he had dreamt about this since the first time his eyes crossed yours in the rehearsal room, years ago.

______________

You stumbled across his room, not even remembering how you made it to the door, the only thing crossing your mind being his hands trying to unzip your dress, and yours unbuckling his belt for the second time tonight. You pushed on his shoulders, forcing him to sit on the edge of the bed and getting rid of your dress yourself under his hungry gaze. Jisung’s eyes were wide open, watching closely as the piece of clothing fell to the floor, pooling at your feets.

He tried to say something, but his throat was dry, and he could only look as you straddled him. His body seemed to understand what was happening only when you leaned in to kiss him again, your tongue entering his mouth easily. His hands wandered on your skin, moaning when he felt your warmth under his touch and your fingers running through his hair.

“- You’re so gorgeous… I need more baby, please…”

You took a handful of his hair and pulled his head back, earning some incoherent whines from him.

“- You need what ? You need to be more specific, baby boy.”

It only made him moan some more as you started grinding against his bulge. The fact that he was still fully dressed while you were only wearing your underwear turned him on. You should’ve been the one feeling small and vulnerable, but here you were, teasing him, having control, and Han loved it.

“- I need you to touch me… Please, please…”

Your smile softened when you heard him beg. It was what you had always dreamt of - of having Han Jisung on his knees for you.

“- But didn’t you promise to show me how well you could use your tongue ?

- Yes ! Yes, I’ll eat you out, I just want to be good for you…”

There was something so wrong about seeing this proper and talented guy so desperate for you, and only you. But it was also so exciting, you didn’t think about it twice before throwing away your panties and pushing him to lay down on the mattress. And when Jisung saw you crawling until you straddled his face this time, he felt like his heart would come out of his chest from how fast it was beating.

“- You’ll better not make me regret coming here baby.”

Maybe he would have responded, if his mouth wasn’t full of your pussy. You lowered yourself on his tongue, moaning when he started to lick your clit. You kept yourself up on your knees, not wanting to suffocate him, but his hands gripped your thighs, pushing you entirely on his face, not giving a fuck about if he could still breath or not. He just wanted to dive in your cunt forever, to taste you for hours, to stay between your thighs for as long as you’ll allow him to.

“- That’s it Hannie, feels so good…”

You grabbed his hair again, pressing his face harder against your wetness, getting him to moan so loudly you thought he was coming. Jisung licked your slit, tasting your sweet juice again and again, knowing he’d never get tired of it. His tongue flicked against your bundle of nerves harshly, feeling your thighs tense under his fingers. Your moans were making him dizzy, and he was so hard he thought he could come undone just from your savor and your praises.

“- So great with that tongue, you didn’t lie… Now make me cum, I can’t wait to feel you in me…”

Han didn’t need you to tell him twice before he pushed his tongue past your walls, his nose rubbing against your clit. You threw your head back as waves of pleasure washed over you, grinding on his face shamelessly and crying out his name over and over, until it felt too much. Your legs were trembling as you slowly got off from him, allowing him to finally sit up.

He was as breathless as you, his lips and chin were covered in your arousal, his eyes were glistening, and you didn’t know if it was from tears or just excitement. You stared at each other for a few seconds, without saying a word, before his hoarse voice came out.

“- Let me fuck you… Please…”

You bit your lips, your eyes focusing solely on his lips for a moment, before you leaned in to kiss him again. This was enough of an answer for Jisung, and this time, everything coming near to demanding was only a memory as he grabbed your breast over your bra roughly. You moaned in the kiss, and he took advantage of it to rub his tongue against yours messily, saliva dripping down your chin.

He didn’t stop kissing you when he took off your underwear, nor when he pinned you against the bed, only letting your mouth go to get rid of his own clothes. He threw them away quickly, not caring where they landed as your hands ran his chest up and down, biting your bottom lip as he also got rid of his pants and underwear. You couldn’t lie to yourself when it came to him : he was looking like a greek god, naked under the moonlight.

“- Fuck me Jisung. I want you to ruin me.”

His eyes darkened, if that was even possible, but you didn’t get the chance to admire that as he dived in again to kiss you passionately, moaning in each other's mouth, teeth clashing and tongues dancing together. You felt his hands caressing your knee before spreading them open with a strength you didn’t think he’d have. Another whine escaped your lips at the images running in your mind from this newfound information.

“- Please, tell me you have a condom or I might go crazy.”

You smiled, and pushed him away just enough to grab your bag abandoned on the floor next to the bed, searching in a little side pocket to hand him a condom, trying not to get distracted by his hands grabbing your ass cheeks.

“- I’m surprised you don’t have one.

- Sorry, didn't expect a little brat to suck my dick tonight.”

You chuckled at his mumbled words, pulling on his hair to bring back his lips on yours. Jisung tried to focus on it all at once : getting the condom on, kissing you, and not fainting. He seemed all confident and composed, but his hands were shaking from anticipation and nervousness as they landed on your thighs again. He knew you were the type to get a new guy every week just for fun, you had so much more experience than him, what if he ended up embarrassing himself ?

“- If you don’t fuck me right now, I might go crazy.”

Your whiny voice - as much as you tried to sound composed - made him come back to reality. And the moment he pushed his cock past your folds, the moment he felt your wetness engulfing him, the moment he heard your desperate moans for more of his dick, his brain deactivated definitely. Han hissed when he finally filled you up fully, nuzzling his head in the crook of your neck as he started moving, holding your legs up, allowing him to thrust deeper each time.

“- Fuck… You feel so good, so wet and tight just for me… It is just for me right ?”

He didn’t know where this possessiveness was coming from, nor did you, but judging by the way you clenched around him as he whispered the words against your sensitive skin, it wasn’t really bothering you. But you didn’t answer, focused on the way his cock was hitting all the right places already, making it hard for you to contain your noises. Until a hard thrust of his hips made you cry out his name.

“- F-Fuck Jisung ! Keep going…

- Answer baby, is this all for me ?”

Another thrust that made you see stars behind your closed eyes - a vain attempt to hold yourself back from moaning at each one of his moves. He kissed the skin of your neck slowly at first, quickly turning into sucking, biting and marking you. You had a stage tomorrow, and it was obvious that it would leave purple marks on your skin. But at this exact moment you couldn’t care less about it.

“- Yes, yes, just for you !”

Han groaned loudly before he stood up on his knee, wrapping your legs around his waist and his hands gripping on your body as he started to pound into you, making your back arch and your mouth hang open, an incoherent mix between pleas, his name and animalistic sounds coming out. Trying to keep some sanity, you grabbed the sheets beneath you, looking up at Jisung between your legs : sweats was glistening on his skin, moans falling from his lips with every little clench of your cunt around him

“- That’s my good girl… Shit ! Letting me use her sweet pussy like that, screaming only my name. Only mine.

- Yeah ! Y-Yes… Only yours Ji !”

Your grip on the sheets wasn’t enough. You needed more. You needed him.

“- More.”

It took no more than a word from you to get him. The weight of his body soon crushed you into the mattress, the skin-to-skin contact making you whimper. You immediately ran one of your hands through his hair, the other one resting on his back, needing to feel more of him. He came back to your neck, attacking the other side this time as the speed of his thrusts increased. Your nails dug into the skin of his back when he hit your g-spot again, making you clench so hard around him he thought you were cumming.

“- God, I’m not gonna last long if you keep doing that princess…

- Don’t care, I want your cum all over me.”

A loud moan escaped his mouth before you felt him pull out of your dripping cunt, jerking himself off right away. The loss of his dick was soon replaced by two of your own fingers pushing into your pussy, circling your clit as you watched him fall apart in front of your eyes.

“- Oh fuck ! Shit, shit, shit… I-”

Another loud moan interrupted him as his hot cum landed on your stomach and breast, some even ending up on your chin. His blissed out face and little whines as he slowly stopped moving his hand just did it for you, cumming hard around your own fingers, missing the look of wonder Han threw at you when you came, rubbing your thighs gently to help you come back to reality.

You didn’t know how much time passed by like this, next thing you knew was that you were in Jisung’s arms, legs tangled, and your face buried in his chest. Your eyes opened with difficulty, blinded by the light of the bright sun coming from the window - you didn’t really care about closing the curtains last night. With almost as much struggle, you managed to get out of his embrace, heading to the bathroom with your clothes from yesterday that you picked up on the floor.

As soon as you saw your reflection in the mirror, you gasped. If last night, you enjoyed his mouth on your neck, you were regretting it now that you saw how many hickeys he left on your skin, and how dark they were. You couldn’t ask the stylist to give you something else since the outfits of your group had already been selected. You sighed while thinking about what you’ll need to do to convince the staff so they would cover this up with makeup.

“- Couldn’t keep his mouth shut, as always.

- I won’t apologize for this, everyone should know you’re mine”

You turned around quickly, finding Jisung landing against the door frame of the bathroom, his fucking smirk back on his lips as you tried to process what he had just said. Your heart fluttered, but you couldn’t do that. It was too complicated. So you just decided to brush it off, and focused on taking off your makeup that was smeared around your eyes instead - keeping your hands busy to keep your mind busy too.

“- Stop with that. I’m not yours.”

You saw his smile drop in the mirror, and it suddenly felt like a heavy burden was weighing on your shoulders, like it was getting harder to breathe.

“- I- Fuck… I can’t keep this up anymore Y/N.

- What are you talking about ?”

Maybe playing dumb would allow you to ditch this conversation. You were not ready. Not ready to admit what you were feeling, and not ready to accept that he was maybe feeling the same way.

“- I’m talking about us, about… About this whole fucked up relationship, because I know for a fact that you don’t hate me, and I can’t bring myself to hate you either. I’m tired of lying and always pretending that I don’t want to be near you when this is all I dream about. I don’t know what you want, but I’m pretty sure that I want you all for myself.”

From the way he was talking, from the anger and sadness that was pouring out of his words, you knew that it came from his heart, that he had been holding back for a long time. And maybe you did too. Because you slowly turned to look at him again, head down and playing with his fingers restlessly.

“- I… It’s way too complicated Jisung, and you know it.”

Suddenly, his eyes were fixed in yours again, and you were only inches away from each other’s body. It seemed as if his gaze was burning with fire, as if he was struggling to keep himself together.

“- I don’t give a fuck about that ! I don’t give a fuck about the stupid shit you find complicated ! Because you know that it is not impossible, you know it. I just want you. That’s as simple as that.”

You breathed heavily as he calmed down quickly, coming back to his previous state of anxiety. You didn’t dare to say a word, afraid to hurt him once again when all you really wanted was to hold him.

“- Please, just say something.”

You felt your eyes well up with tears as you hugged him tight, his arms immediately wrapping around you, as if it was where you should be. Your plan was not to get there, but now that his fingers were stroking your hair gently, and that his intoxicating scent was surrounding you, were you really regretting it ?

“- Maybe… Maybe I want you all for myself too, and… Maybe we can try.”

Both of you will need a long and serious talk, but Han’s smile as he buried his face in your hair and your heart fluttering when he did so was enough of an explanation for now. And as he took you back to the bed, caressing your skin tenderly, the bet was long forgotten.

-> i don't allow any copies, reposts or translations of my works.

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oh-no-its-bird · 4 months ago

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Obkk modern au where where Kakashi and Obito are online friends who have never seen eachothers faces. It's a years long friendship (and mutual silent crush) where they've helped eachother through what was truly the darkest parts of eachothers lives.

But irl they also happen to know eachother from childhood due to having gone to the same schools and shared the same classes, and they fucking DESPISE the other. You can not stick them in a room without someone starting a fight.

When they interact irl, play into specifically the early dynamics of obkk, with kind of superficially happy/dumb Obito and a "follow the rules to the letter" grumpy overachiever Kakashi

But when they're online, play more into the older obkk dynamic.

Where Obito shows that he has a pretty big mean streak/humor and a serious talent for playing dumb; where he overlays his happier side irl for just social reasons.

While Kakashi shows he's actually super lazy and imperfect with most other factors of his life outside of work/school (and ofc downplays his actual work ethic when it comes to work/school, framing himself as doing bare minimum when he should really do more (bc he genuinley believes that)) and has a pretty wicked sense of humor himself, a love of over-romantic, fluffy porn, and a habit of using endless "cute" emotocons

Kk: Did my proposal today, it was so bad... I really slacked off this time on it. I was so nervous they'd tell me no (｡﹏｡")

Kk: I guess the other presentations must have been pretty bad too because they picked mine anyways? I feel so lucky (╥﹏╥)

Ob: it's ok even if you tried your best!! Im proud you were able to do even as much as you did.

Ob: I'm glad you got it, at least one of us won their proposal today. That jackass had a fucking 30 slide detailed slide with 6 DIFFERENT PIE CHARTS and a scheduled water break inbetween. Fucking kissass

Kk: nooo im sorry ( •̯́ ^ •̯̀)

Ob: it's whatever. Just glad you got the thing :)

Ob: want me to kill your boss tho.

Kk: lol

Kk: I'll help hide the body ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

And then one day Obito does some sort of very mean prank on Kakashi. And it goes uhh. Badly.

I mean, badly for Kakashi. Obito thinks it went great!

That is till he gets home and finds his best friend for a decade, and crush for even past that decade, texting him about a very specific mean prank that got pulled on them.

Wait. No. Wait. WAIT. FUCK.

So like. Obito is a bit conflicted now. He doesn't know what to really do here??? Like. What if it ruins everything with his best friend??? But also hey best friend why the FUCK are you such a BITCH.

But also also, suddenly Obito is recontextualizing SO many of their interactions— from Kakashi suffering the devistating loss of his father when he was especially annoying, to explanations of why he reacted certain ways. And oh my god Obito is... also a kind of a bitch???

Obito has NO idea what to do and is just swinging so violently back and forth on what are really his only two options.

And sometimes he's like gleefully feeling vindictive bc after arguing with irl Kakashi, online Kakashi is ranting about "that same asshole again" at work, so Obito is like "I KNEW it was getting to u, haha you're NOT better than me after all!!!"

But then later he feels kinda bad about it bc like. Aw wait no he actually might have genuinley hurt the person he loves. And also he doesn't want to lose getting to see the real Kakashi, a mix of both of his masks, by fucking this up and choosing wrong.

Anyways Kakashi finally somehow figures it out on his own, they fight, they make up, they make out.

The end yay happy ending

There's an alternate universe where neither of them every found out about eachother and continued to be friends online and hate eachother to escalating degrees offline. But one day they start to slowly shift in dynamics. Irl they get closer and online they get so much angrier and more distant. Till we've swapped and now online they just have this GIANT fallout but offline they're actually in love now. And this continues till they're about to get married/no longer on speaking terms with eachother. And so on their wedding day they reach out again online but ONLY to hate on eachother like "oooo fuck you I'm so happy rn I just got MARRIED."

"Oh yeah you bitch??? So did I. And my husbands better than anything your ugly ass could ever pull"

"FUCK YOU MY HUSBANDS FUCKING AMAZING AND YOURS IS PROBABLY LOOKS AND ACTS LIKE SHIT"

"OH YEAH????"

"YEAH!!!"

"PROVE IT!"

And then they very sharply turn and take simultaneous photos of eachothers furious faces and then angrily, instinctivley press send.

And then they stop. And then they have a moment of dead silence.

And then they begin to have an actual, physical fist fight in front of the uncut wedding cake with ALL of their friends and families watching. And the photographers with their very ready cameras.

There was a lot of cake.

Yeah that was ah uhh. Interesting

The good news at least is now they have a photo of them fist fighting like they want to kill eachother while covered in wedding cake in a frame that says "happy marriage <3" on it, and they like to joke about it (to many, many peoples horror)

The end yay happy ending x2

If I were to write this fr I think I'd legally have to write both versions bc both are excellent

#birds fic talk #kakashi hatake #hatake kakashi #obito uchiha #uchiha obito #obkk #kkob #obikaka #kakaobi #naruto #modern au

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kneelingshadowsalome · 1 year ago

Text

I Never Missed You 3/3 (Bodyguard!Ghost x F!Reader)

Word count: 6.4 k

Tags/warnings: 18+ only. Romance, eventual smut, fluff, light angst, banter, pining, flirting, minor injuries, major character death, HFN ending. Lady/Knight dynamic. Unequal pairing trope. Bodyguard AU. Reader is a rich bitch (how else could she afford a PPO?)

Summary: You hire a bodyguard to protect you and hunt down the one who's been sent to take your life. This man was your lawyer's first recommendation, and you never even looked through his file because you had better things to do. But it soon turns out that this man – this Simon Riley – is very talented... Talented in driving you crazy.

A/N: A three part fic based on this request. Angst and smut and fluff (the holy trinity!) in this last part.

Part 1 Part 2

Juice spills all over the table from the oranges you press, but you don't mind. There has been a soft smile on your face all morning.

Simon's still sleeping, and you want to surprise him with a special breakfast today: scrambled eggs, freshly pressed orange juice, berries, and…

"You took my shirt."

You flinch when you hear his familiar rumble not a few feet away. The staircase wailed like a widow last night, but obviously, this man has learned to avoid the creaky spots when he wants. A goddamn heavyweight ninja...

"I'm sorry." You lick your fingers from the juice and try to feign innocence. The sleeves of his black tee reach your elbows, but you're not sorry. Nor do you feel bad about seeing him in your kitchen without a shirt.

"It was not an accusation," he says, the corner of his mouth curving a little, the dark eyes that made love to you last night giving you an approving once-over.

You approach him with a glass full of sun, but it's you he grabs in his hold. Your fingers find the scars on his back as you two embrace, and you feel an odd churn in your stomach.

"What's this…?"

Your hand floats across the embossed, white ridges that crisscross his back. The collection forms an entire mountain range, and it's chilling because you've only brushed the space between his shoulder blades.

"A reminder. To trust no one."

"No one…?"

"No one."

You remain a coward and refrain from asking for more details. You doubt he would even share them.

"I made you breakfast," you lower your gaze to the colorful palette you've gathered on the plates. Is it some sort of an instinct to want to feed a man after they've fucked you so good?

"So I see," he says, ever more approvingly. Then you're lifted on the table, next to the plates, like you're the breakfast.

Soon you're only wearing his shirt and your tiny socks, which Simon decides to leave on, too busy with getting his face between your legs.

No one has done anything like that before… No one has chosen you over breakfast; an entire abundance of delicacies laid out.

He licks you until your legs are trembling on that tortured back. You're pure, you're untouched by evil, and he carries your naivety on his shoulders like it weighs nothing. He flattens his tongue on you, sucks your flesh, tortures you on that table and doesn't even mind his teeth all too much. The peak stubble he hasn't yet shaved stings and burns as he moves across your folds.

Saying that the coarse chin on your silk feels good would be an understatement. You come undone next to the breakfast, clad in golden light shining through the small window left uncovered.

You feel alive, and raw, and stellar. A shooting star, a comet high above the sky, although the space through which you ignite consists of golden rays of sunlight and the scent of orange juice.

He takes the shirt back after he's done. After you're done and try your best to return back to earth with shaking legs. The only thing you're wearing is your socks, but you feel completely naked before him, dopey and dumb before the day has even started. Simon only licks his lips, throws that shirt on, and grabs his plate.

He dares to comment that there's no hot water. You put the kettle on with a wobble, feeling hotness on your cheeks while he sits down to eat his second breakfast like it's the most natural thing in the world: to wreck you first thing in the morning.

…............................

Simon.

He fixes the door on your fridge. He helps you clean your garage and fucks you on the table. Oily, dusty, filthy table. You go to shower after, together. You're giggling; he's smiling. Fully, now.

You want to ask him, Is this free of charge too…? Not just his cock... But his smiles. His assistance and support. The looks he grants you when you come out of the shower, ready to be licked to ruin.

He calls you his Princess to tease you just right. To get you in a state where your eyes flash with half-rage, half-lust, just before he slips inside you. He knows exactly which strings to pull – and then calls you love just when you're about to give him a piece of your mind.

You end up on the table, on the counter, on the floor. He takes you while your jaw slowly falls open from his audacity and his cock, splitting you apart with slow love. The first time he takes you in a missionary, you squirt. It's like his cock was made for you. And he dares to tease you about that, too.

"Did ya just squirt all over my cock?"

You have tears in your eyes, shame on your cheeks, and he's wetter than a wet dog down there… then he makes you squirt again, high on the lewd, obscene praise you just gave him with your pussy.

Your cunt can't lie; he knows it by now. So it's futile to keep your lips sealed either.

Kiss me.

That's what you would've usually ordered. But after an exceptionally quiet and passionate and desperate fuck that leaves you both catching your breath, leaves him hovering only inches from your sweaty upper lip, you whisper…

"I want to kiss you."

You expect him to laugh or mock you, at least crack a stupid joke or two. But he doesn't. Instead, his eyes drop to your lips, and he swallows with a heavy roll, then closes the gap between you two. Covers your mouth with his, uses that strong jaw to open you for devouring.

The kiss lasts long enough for you to begin breathing through your nose. Your inner walls grip him, still buried deep inside, and the gusts of exhales passing through his nostrils hit your face with pure bliss. He’s a little breathless when he parts – withdraws just enough to look into your eyes.

“Will that do...?”

There is a drunken vigor in his eyes of crushed amber, but to your shock, you hear your own question laid out before you. The one you asked when you were going to that party.

Will I do…?

Your hands find his jaw and cup his face from both sides, drawing him back to your lips.

“Yes."

You will more than just do.

And then you say…

"I want more.”

He chuckles a soft scoff on your face.

"Greedy little thing."

Then he swallows you again. You kiss for a good few minutes while he grows half-hard inside you. It's the most romantic kiss you have shared with anyone, ever. He tells you how spoiled you are between the breaths you both catch, then spoils you some more with his mouth and tongue and cock.

You start to curl together in the evening. Just to watch a comedy. He massages your feet and smiles more every day. It's kind of domestic, how he wrinkles his nose at your fine white wine and asks what it is in that decanter you have in your study. When you say it's just some old bourbon, he goes and gets himself a glass like he's finally made himself at home.

It makes your heart grow thick from love. You almost forget why he's here in the first place.

When you ask him about the plan, he explains it to you in detail while kissing his way down your ribs and navel. He takes his sweet time while doing it, kissing the inside of your thigh, the hollow place below the knee, the tender skin under the knee. He kisses your calf and the ankle bone while holding your leg up for his lips with just one hand. Then he does the same to your other leg, but this time, kisses his way from ankle to thigh until he reaches…

You.

You've forgotten half the plan by then because you realize Simon hasn't looked at you like you're a steak or garbage in a long, long time.

He looks at you like you're a queen. You could say he worships you, but the thought alone makes your heart flutter with the anxiety of a fragile hummingbird.

Simon gets you your groceries and gets himself only a beer as a reward. You would happily offer him a case if you knew it would make him happy.

But you don't really know what would make him happy. You don't know anything about this man. You know he likes it when you're dolled up and angry. He likes you when you're sleepy, without makeup, wearing only his shirt. He likes to fuck you from behind and hold you close after. He likes to give you a wash, likes it when you wash him. He likes to watch the two tall trees outside the window sway when there's a strong wind.

"What makes you happy?" You ask one night after you've had him in your mouth.

"Blowjobs," he answers with a straight face, and you shove him in the shoulder. Nicely. Softly.

"No, for real."

"I dunno." He sighs and turns to stare at your ceiling with a bothered look. It's a tricky question, perhaps. Or weapons, not willingly gifted.

"Dogs," he shrugs after a while. "A day of silence. Good whiskey."

He doesn't grant you weapons. You get some rope, but not enough to choke him with it. He trusts no one.

"Why don't you like missionary…?" You continue roasting him while curling your fingers around the pale hair on his chest.

"I never said I didn't like it."

"Don't avoid the question, Mr. Doggystyle."

You prop yourself up on your elbow and place your palm flat over his heart. His stare slowly drifts from the ceiling back to you.

"Simon. Why do you always fuck me from behind?"

He raises his eyebrows like he's innocent of the crime he's being accused of. "Not always."

"Seriously, Simon."

The smug look returns; it gives his eyes a delightful little spark and tugs at the corner of that kissable mouth.

"I like your ass."

"But not my eyes?"

The smile dies, and he gulps down a short surprise, caught between truth and dare. But then his eyes settle like the calming sea under a full moon. Stern, but not remorseless. Bold, but not heartless. If anything, he's naked and bare.

"Darlin'. Love your eyes the most."

Your heart does a backflip. You've been a fool because what else has he done but search for your eyes first thing in the morning? Given you flashes of mischief over breakfast, made love to you with those eyes as you cum around his cock? That liquid fire and smoke hasn't left you since he stepped inside this house.

You breathe together; you can feel the slow rise and fall of his chest. There was a time when you thought this man was incapable of love, but now you fear he has never been allowed to love enough.

"We never talked, you know," you whisper. His heart swells underneath your palm like a sail.

"What'ya wanna talk about?"

"Us."

"So talk."

Walls are raised so quickly you feel them knocking the warmth out of your body. It's cold, it's Antarctic, the technique he uses to withdraw. Your room turns into a kingdom of ice from the cruel, emotionless indifference he emits.

You've been a fool, yes... And a child.

"You're making it hard," you say, noticing how the man starts to tense up under your fingertips. This is not the way, but you're not smart enough to stop your rampage.

"What happens when you've done your job?"

He doesn't sigh. He doesn't even think twice before giving his answer.

"I go back to the base."

You know now why he's called a ghost. You wonder if he was ever even here. Simon becomes a reminder for you, a reminder to trust no one.

"...Right." You pull your hand away slowly. As if it somehow helps with the pain to pretend you haven't just touched a hot stove and ended up getting your fingers burned.

He notices how you tense up far more than he. The arm around your waist goes tight, and you wonder if you've always been a bloodied steak to this brute, a stupid little princess with your wines, sighs, and wet eyes. He just doesn't want to let go of the last bites of his fine, delicious meat.

"I never thought you wanted a relationship," he says with a hollow voice, and the red rage nearly blinds your sight. You're too riled up to even yell at him.

"Love…" he tries for the last time.

"Get out of my bed."

…............................

His musk still clings to you as you descend the stairs the next morning.

He's sitting at the end of the steps with hunched shoulders and a tense back, exiled into the man he was the first day you met him. Your heart bleeds from the sight, wondering whether Simon has waited there the whole night after you kicked him out of your bedroom. But the boiling bile in your stomach forces you to lift your chin and draw your shoulders back as you walk down those steps with an audible clatter as your heels clack across the parquet.

He must've heard you before you make a racket fitting for an angered queen, but rises only after you've made it halfway through the staircase. You won't allow yourself to even look his way as he draws a deep breath.

"Love. Sweetheart."

But with that, you flash the man a stare full of despise as you walk past him.

"Don't."

"Let me–"

"Don't say a word," you take a sharp turn and raise a hand to shield you from whatever brutality he would like to stain you with. "You don't talk to me. You just do your job. Ok?"

His chest swells with another deep breath, but otherwise, this man is still as a statue again.

"Ma'am."

It takes you a while to notice he has regressed back to that term again, and you tilt your head. The movement is that of a warrior who swings her sword to a guard before a fight. He crosses his hands over his crotch as if to shield the most vulnerable parts from a low blow, but his eyes are full of hateful hurt as he gives you his most pretentious, mocking tone.

"Miss."

Your heart skips a beat – Simon becomes the thing you miss.

A hit and run.

You have to resist the urge to grimace at the pure venom in his voice - it doesn't matter what he calls you because that tone seeps straight through your skin like lye. It hurts; it burns to see him even more withdrawn to his shell than when you first met. He retreats far beyond the front line, he goes further than the rear, and it's a bitter defeat for both of you.

This man has rubbed your feet while you've laughed at a stupid joke in a sitcom. The same man has been inside you – night after night after night. It rips your heart to see a distant, perfectly blank expression on his face after you've seen him give you a plentitude of relaxed and wicked little smiles.

You share the breakfast in funeral-like silence. You wish you could pay him to stay home so that you can go through your day filled with terror and longing without Simon Riley following you around.

"I've been meaning to update you on new intel about the target," he breaks the silence, and your heart feels like it's being put through a wringer. Simon hasn't even touched his breakfast. "Turns out he received training in a sniper unit."

"So?"

"There's a high chance he might prefer to use long-range weapons."

He's professional, curt, clinical. Even more so than when you first shook hands with him. And all the while, those eyes burn you; they examine you like you're the most challenging puzzle he's ever tried to solve. He's cold as ice with his words and hot as hell with that stare. Those eyes seem to pierce your clothes, they even reach under your skin.

"Right," you say without giving him a single look back.

"We have to update our protocol asap."

Our…

We.

"The protocol…" you whisper and finally look up at him. His lips draw into a thin line as he sees how your walls crumble; they didn't last even half a day.

"Simon, I can't do this," you say, your voice breaking. The tears are only seconds away. They blur your sight, but as he rises from the table slowly and takes a hesitant step towards you, you turn your head back to your toast with a snap.

"I want to change bodyguards."

From the corner of your blurred vision, you see how he raises a hand. If you didn't know any better, you could say that he's at his weakest. But the hand falls straight back and gives a twitch by his side. You wonder why he even bothers to disguise the spasm so lousily as a stretch. It's as if he wants you to see that he's in tumult too.

"I'll stay until–"

"No. Get out."

"Miss. I'll just get my things," he says, and you nod briefly. No exchange of gazes is probably the best policy after informing him you no longer need his services. It's better to rip the band-aid off with one yank than try to pretend that this relationship was something more than sexual.

You know he came to your house with minimal belongings, a duffel bag full of spare clothes and a large case which you supposed was a container for different weapons. That is why you notice he takes a surprisingly long time to get those things and leave your house.

When he finally emerges from his room – no, not his room, but the guest room, you remind yourself – he places the luggage in the hallway and comes back to you, probably to say his polite farewells.

"You won't let me speak to you, so I wrote you a fuckin' letter."

You turn to solid stone as he places an envelope between your water glass and cup of coffee. You sit with your heart thumping in your chest as he picks up his things, walks to the door, walks out of it and out of your life.

It's one of those moments you wish you could freeze and rewind. Do everything differently so that it wouldn't have to come to this. Instead, you listen how the front door clunks shut.

Then you send your trembling fingers up from your lap and onto the pure white thing that holds his secrets. You pry it open and find yourself reading the lines, scribbled with surprisingly sophisticated handwriting, through a round of hot tears.

They cloud your vision, but they don't cloud his words.

You skim through the letter in a frenzied hurry once, then again with more control, and try to remember how to breathe.

He shares shrivels from his past, ugly, horrid things which make your breakfast nearly push up your throat. He tells you he stopped dating eleven years ago for a reason. He writes that he would rather be tortured again than make you suffer from his past and incapacities.

There are certain lines that enter your heart like a thief with the most delicate crowbar. Lines like I'm not good with words and You must know by now that I'm a broken man.

Lines like I'm not a fucking poet but I'll miss your warmth even under the desert sun.

Some lines make you want to tear the letter to pieces. Lines such as Don't throw your diamonds in the dust and I can't give you what you deserve.

He thinks you can't take his darkness, so he shelters you from it. He says he would come back to you if he could. You don't know what the hell he means by that.

If he could?

What the fuck prevents him?

You sit inside your empty, lonely house, confident of the fact that it is not you who prevents it. It was not you who just sent him out that door. Who commanded him to leave because you didn't need his services anymore.

The letter makes you cry, and then it makes you boil.

Such sweet words, and so many empty sentences. If only, if I wasn't, if I could.

You get the feeling that he's mocking you again. If only you weren't a princess and a spoiled brat, then perhaps he could reconsider this relationship.

You leave the letter there; you leave your coffee and your breakfast. You almost wish someone would shoot you and put you out of your misery as you call a taxi and go to the heart of the city.

You're completely numb as your fingertips brush silk and linen and all the newest designs. They curl around tiny bottles of bright nail polish and touch the perfumes made from the last free wildflowers of a burning world, but you feel nothing stir inside.

You're emptier than the echo that rings through the malls and corridors of stone; you feel poorer than all the beggars on the street. Shopping always makes you feel better. But now you want to burn all your money, throw your jewels out the window, torch all the fucking stores like some bloody anarchist. You leave every store without buying a thing and try to remember what it was to have lunch without drowning in tears that can't be cried in public.

"I can't give you what you deserve."

That's the line that scalds you most. You know what he meant when he wrote those words, seemingly humble. But your bleeding heart twists that sentence until his words are a testimony of pure rejection.

You have money, so you don't deserve love, is that it?

You want to find him and shake him. It's not about what you deserve or what he deserves. It's not about what anyone deserves. And if the bloody man thinks he doesn't deserve love only because he's made his home in suffering, then he's the last person who should be allowed to decide who deserves what.

You walk through the crowds and streets like a small whirlwind, on the verge of yelling your heart and loneliness out in the air until your vocal cords are raw. You're so riled your mind doesn't even register the gunshot.

The only thing you hear is a glass shattering next to you just before an entire boulder hits you.

His scent envelops you like a safe, warm blanket, even if that blanket weighs a ton and causes your jeans to grate and tear as you two hit the asphalt. Simon gives you bruises, scrapes and burns all across your left side as your body grinds through the dirt.

Another shot is fired; this time, a car's glass is shattered above you, and the body surrounding you tenses until you worry your bodyguard has been hit. The bodyguard you fired this morning, who's still doing his job, who never even left you…

People are screaming and running in different directions all around and above you, but time comes to a halt as Simon rises only an inch or two.

"Stay down," he gruffs in your ear. "Don't move. Don't you fucking move, ok?"

The whole world could've gone silent from the way you only hear his voice. His words. His distress. You remain still as a stone and look up at him – your lips part because he's looking at you with impatience that's not just pressing; it's demanding.

"Yes," you stutter, "yes, of course."

Someone's pissed because a third shot sends him right back over you, and only then do you notice you're clinging to him, to his jacket and his shirt, like he's a human shield. Then the human shield speaks again, and the words that come out only make you grip him tighter.

"He has to change the magazine soon. You stay right here, ok? I'm going in."

"No, don't," your fingers curl around his clothes and try to keep him on top of you. "Don't go. I'm afraid."

I'll get you a dog.

A day of silence.

I'll buy you some good whiskey. I promise…

"I'll be right back," he murmurs, more softly now. "I promise."

Then he rips himself off you. Your body misses his heat like the desert sand must miss the sun, and you realize you've ruined everything as you finally get to watch him in his element. He's agile and beautiful as he reaches for his gun, takes it out, and prepares it in a few seconds to fire death upon your faceless enemy. You've ruined everything because if Simon goes in, he might get killed – he's a human, not a shield, he's not even a weapon – and all the things you never said will haunt you for the rest of your life.

"Don't leave me," you want to reach for him, but don't dare disobey his orders. It should send you laughing: that you're finally doing precisely as he says. You finally trust your life with him, just before he leaves you, leaves you, leaves you.

"Simon–"

"Sweetheart. I never left you."

He looks straight into your eyes. You gulp the tears now.

"I'm so sorry," you whisper, and someone is screaming; everythings a buzz, cars whir by as you tell him all the things you meant to say weeks ago. "I never wanted you to go. I always liked you. I– I think I love–"

"Shh. Don't you do this to me now."

The words are so soft you have to struggle to hear what he's saying under his breath. It's like he's talking to himself, and you realize you're an asshole, saying things like that to him when he's trying to concentrate on his mission and his job. But you just can't help yourself sometimes. No one in your life compares to him. No one has caused such a ruckus, such turmoil, such devastation and such love.

"Do what?" you whimper there, motionless on the ground as he gives you a last, painful look before his stare fixes on the piece of glass still unshattered, the dim, transient mirror of a store window he uses to locate movement in one of the buildings.

Then he takes a peek over the car, and you hold your breath – he's the bait now, and ducks his head immediately as two more shots are fired. You don't even have the strength to scream; your whole body simply shudders from the echoing sound of pure fear – how can he play tag with death like that?

And then he leaves.

He rounds the car and darts for the building and the sniper; he disappears from your vision so quickly you wonder if these past weeks have been but a dream.

A hit and run.

"Do what…" you repeat on the ground and curl into yourself even though he said you shouldn't move. You figure it's not that big of a crime to go into a fetal position when you don't know if he's ever coming back to scold you for breaking the rules.

You want to close your ears from the sounds that follow – you fear you'll jinx something if you listen too closely to what happens in that building. You try to concentrate on your breaths, slowly bringing you back to your body. You haven't even noticed that there's blood running down your arm.

It's funny how you only notice the pain after seeing the flowing crimson that makes small rivers around your fingers. You don't want to look at your burning shoulder because the shock is already here.

The searing pulse gets worse as you hear another shot, then another shot. Those sounds pound inside your shoulder and send more fire down your arm. Minutes or hours pass and you think how strange it is that everything's completely still, how bizarre it is that there are no sirens, no cars, no screaming. They've finally closed off the roads.

You only start to cry when you see that he's alive.

You try to rise from the ground to meet him – a bleeding princess, waking from her beauty sleep and realizing everything's just been a bad dream, greeting her knight in a black pair of fitted tactical pants and a pistol on his waist. Diamonds and darkness…

He rushes to you in what seems like desperation. You find it oddly beautiful that he's not only relieved to see his client is still alive and well, he's also relieved to know you're still there. That his princess has waited for him.

He falls on his knees and prevents you from rising. You're quickly wrapped in his arms, feeling so happy and safe that you don't even bother to tell him you're injured. It's just a scratch anyway. Even if your leg was blown off, you wouldn't complain about being picked up in his lap like this.

"Shh. I got you. I got you."

He's cradling you like a child while tears stream down your face, but there's no audible sounds of crying. You weep a whole river of tears and your nose is clogged, forcing you to breathe through your mouth, but there's no wailing, no screaming, no bawling. The first words that roll off your tongue are a child's moody complaint.

"You left me," you mope as he caresses your head.

"Only for a little while."

"You came back."

"I said I would."

More tears flow, and this time you sniffle and sob. He rocks you gently back and forth as you cry in his embrace. Simon would make a good father.

"Is he…?" You whisper, then look up at him. He just nods and gives you a quick scan, drawing a sharp breath when he notices the wound on your arm.

You're placed back on the ground as he inspects your shoulder and tells you the bullet managed to scrape some skin but has mostly just ruined your jacket. You're almost sorry that the wound is not as severe as it feels. You thought the burning sensation meant shattered bones and scarred flesh, but the scratch is no deeper than if you had accidentally cut yourself with a kitchen knife.

"No, I don't want… No hospital," you beg as he offers to take you to ER. You're not spending the rest of the day in a frigid treatment room where tired medical personnel only clean the wound and put a big plaster on it.

"Just take me home," you plead like you're his daughter who doesn't want to go to school today. "Please?"

"Sure. Whatever ya want."

He makes a few phone calls, arranges things with the local police or something. You don't want to know anything about it. You don't want to know who got shot in that building and how.

It's not a taxi that drives you back this time. You don't know where he got a car and a driver, but the vehicle is big and black, and your head is in Simon's lap when you lie in the backseat. There's a panel between the driver's seat and the rear, so you don't even know who's driving, but you're only grateful for the privacy after the crazy morning followed by a murder attempt. You look up at Simon, who looks back at you for the first time while you're in a car together.

"Why did you become a soldier?" You ask, not knowing why you're whispering. He's holding your hand – a simple, wholesome thing to do, but his grip on you is solid and warm and feels equally as intimate as the times this man has been inside you.

"I wanted to help people."

"By killing them?"

"By saving those I can."

He keeps a hand on your cheek too. Simon has spoken softly ever since you were fired at, has been humane and caring and tender, and you realize… This man is naked before you; he's stripped bare from all pretenses.

And he's not darkness. He's not a skeleton or a dead man or even a soldier.

He's a beacon in the night.

"You did a good job," you squeeze his hand softly.

The last glass-like veil in his eyes shatters, but far more softly than those windows shot at with a rifle.

"I live to serve, Ma'am...–Miss."

"Don’t… Simon, please don’t call me a–"

He descends. He doesn't need that hand to lift your chin up to meet him in a kiss. It's not a hungry devouring this time, but a soft promise, a lover's seal. You feel the rest of the shock leave your body in his embrace. There's no more coldness, only a fragile burning.

"You never look me in the eyes," you whisper as a tear escapes from the corner of your eye. It's a silly thing to say when he looks at you with all the love in the world.

"Yes I do," he gives you a soft brush of a thumb across your cheek. His lips are right there, an inch away from yours. "How could you have missed that?"

He's right, as always. The dark love almost swallows the brown of his eyes as he looks at you, shining light on you as he has shined for days, for weeks now. How could you have missed that, indeed? You raise a hand to cup his cheek, not caring about the pain, not even mourning that your blood stains his chin. He doesn't seem to mind at all, so why would you?

When you arrive at your house, he drives away the loneliness, sorrow, everything a rich girl can fear by carrying you in his arms, stepping over the threshold with you like you two are married now.

He peels your jacket off with affection and tenderness, tends to your wound and wipes away the blood that has caked dry all over your arm. The gash has bled a lot for such a small wound, and you purse your lips from how accurately it reflects your feelings for him.

He ties the wound, checks at least two times he's not tying it too tight. His care breaks your heart, because you don't know whether he will leave you after this. There's nothing that keeps him here anymore – there's no way you can keep Simon Riley to yourself. So you abandon him first for the second time, ascend the stairs to your lonely domain while he cleans up the small mess in the bathroom.

It's a small miracle that he follows you. He opens the door to your room without knocking – not because he's entitled to your privacy, but because there are no more barriers between you two. You're gathered in a stout embrace for the second time this afternoon, and you wrap your arms around him to hold him closer.

"You'll leave me soon," you speak to the wall before you, to the man behind you, holding you so gently against his chest. "I'll miss you."

"Love," he murmurs behind you, you feel the words against your back as a warm rumble. "I'll come back. If you want me, I'll come back to you."

"You will…?"

"I promise."

You have no more tears to cry, so you settle for examining the stab inside your heart, the wound that will bleed you dry if no one ties it tightly enough.

"I don't believe you."

"It's not a matter of whether you believe me."

He turns you around and lets you bathe in his warmth again, the same golden light that came through the window when he placed his mouth on you in the kitchen. It's almost frightening to know that there's nothing that can keep him from you. Nothing, except you. The only thing that has stood between you was only and ever pride.

"Simon," you breathe, a soft attempt to introduce him to mercy. "It's not a matter of what we deserve."

He blinks a few times, the chest against your side collapses a little. It's a hard reset. The corner of his mouth tugs, a beautiful betrayal of his surrender, a sign of being hit by a boulder – your boulder, finally bringing the rest of those walls down.

"You think so...?"

"Yes. I think so."

He brushes his knuckles across your sternum – a familiar motion that always manages to lift your heart. You used to think it was foreplay when it was in truth, an attempt to touch the organ said to be the house of love.

You think about the times his harsh breaths have hit you just before he cums, the urgent praise he's peppered you with merely seconds before you've cried from pleasure. Can't get enough of you pet, you’re fucking perfect, 'm gonna make you cum, sing for me, just like that...

You always thought it was a catalogue of shallow lust when it was an offering of naked devotion.

He was as vulnerable as you when you drifted through space together, when you drowned in his stunning midnight sea. He was catching fire and burning too, again and again until you were both satisfied and sweaty. He always held you close after, panted desperate love on your skin, planted kisses on your collarbones and neck before resting his head on your heart. Settling there, over your pulse, like he had finally found his way home…

The hand glides between your breasts and molds itself over your waist. It fits there like a second skin. You're relatively sure his hands were made for holding you.

"You asked what makes me happy," he says, completely naked and bare. The heavy love surrounds you with warm safety; your breath flows freely as you await his confession, the last secret revealed. "I think you know, love."

You know. It has finally dawned on you. What you didn't know was that tears of hope could feel like fire too. You've never been more eager to burn.

"Now keep those pretty eyes on me."

#simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost x you #simon ghost riley #simon riley imagine #ghost smut #simon riley smut #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #cod fanfic #mw2 fanfic #simon riley fanfic #simon ghost riley x f!reader #ghost x female reader #bodyguard au #bodyguard!Ghost

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silverware-drawer · 1 year ago

Text

🟥 felppps-6391 🔁 cellbo

🔎 cellbo Seguir

why is my castle full of smoke

🟥 felppps-6391

'-'

🔎 cellbo Seguir

DID FOOLISH HOTBOX THE FUCKING BLOOD ROOM

🟥 felppps-6391

'-'

4 notas

🪑 what-the-muffin 🔁 kocwillrock

🦈 kocwillrock Seguir

guys whart happens if you set cocaine on fire you have one minute adn then im trying it

🪑what-the-muffin

0_0 . . .whart

💣 endcrystalenjoyer Seguir

whart

🪺 philza Seguir

whart

🔰 etoyless Seguir

whart

🦈 kocwillrock Seguir

THATS CRAZY ITS ALMOST LIKE NOBODY ASKED

#heeheeheeheehee #prank tag

26 notas

🥵 peterparkoier 🔁 its-nice-to-miku

🐦 its-nice-to-miku Seguir

culeros

🥵 peterparkoier

YESSSSS MAMOSSSSS

403 notas

🪷 quackitieeee 🔁 elmar1an4

🌻 elmar1an4 Seguir

es lunes 😏 alguien quiere ser mi novio 😜

🦠 backflipo-numero-uno Seguir

IT'S TUESDAY YOU CHEATING BITCH FUCK YOU

🌻 elmar1an4 Seguir

yes ok I am waiting in the bedroom

🦠 backflipo-numero-uno Seguir

okay give me a couple of minutes

🪷 quackitieeee

what the fuck is wrong with you guys

5 notas

🥵 peterparkoier 🔁 cellbo

🔪 cell-bites

você vai se arrepender disso nunca esquecerei o quão saborosa sua perna era

furryfury999-deactivated38192947

Umm. . . .what the fuck ??

garbage-meister-deactivated92929947

why the hell are people in the notes acting like this is real lmfao did you idiots forget that people LIE on the INTERNET

horsey-of-coursey-deactivated848291083

okay, but has nobody noticed how this lines up perfectly with that insane alcatraz breakout that was in the news last month, only this was posted first??

garbage-meister-deactivated92929947

i'm dying y'all are so fucking dumb LMFAO

🔎 cellbo Seguir

STOP TAGGING ME THIS POST IS A THOUSAND YEARS OLD I DONT EVEN KNOW WHO THIS IS

🥵 peterparkoier

ENIGMA DO MEDO 😱

899.113 notas

🥵 peterparkoier 🔁 its-nice-to-miku

🪺 philza Seguir

Get you a man with two hundred and twenty seven alt accounts that are all in constant danger of being banned for hacking

💣 tnt-cannoff-1748 Seguir

God damn, hit on by Philza Minecraft himself, never thought I'd see the day 😳

🪺 philza Seguir

Lmao nah mate but I am hitting your gym. Give me ten minutes

💣 big-daddy-bigger-breakfast Seguir

Hell yeah

589 notas

🥵 peterparkoier 🔁 4ever-420

🕓 4ever-420 🇧🇷☑️ Seguir

PHILZA

--VERIFIED PRESIDENTIAL POST--

🕓 4ever-420 🇧🇷☑️ Seguir

CARALHO BAGHERA DONT REBLOG THAT IT WAS A DRAFT I DIDNT MEAN IT TO POST

--VERIFIED PRESIDENTIAL POST--

🐥 baghz-quacks Seguir

I don't know what youre talking about forever, it was a verified presidential post ?

🪺 philza Seguir

lmfao

🕓 4ever-420 🇧🇷☑️ Seguir

HOW DO I DELETE OTHER PEOPLES POSTS

--VERIFIED PRESIDENTIAL POST--

🕓 4ever-420 🇧🇷☑️ Seguir

FUCKING CUCURUCHO GET RID OF THIS BANNER RIGHT NOW

--VERIFIED PRESIDENTIAL POST--

🥵 peterparkoier

nem fodendo 👀

3,066 notas

🥵 peterparkoier 🔁 missa-not-missing

👑 chay-chay-chefs-blade Seguir

extra pics of the cake process because lulah told me to post them o7

Link

💀 missa-not-missing Seguir

CHAYANNE YOU'RE SO TALENTED

🪺 philza Seguir

Missa :D you finally back in wifi range?

💀 missa-not-missing Seguir

YES I AM COMING HOME RIGHT NOW

Thirty minutes!!

🪺 philza Seguir

. . .you good mate? It's been hours

💀 missa-not-missing Seguir

PHILZA HELP I FELL IN A HOLE

699 notas

🚇 tubbohell 🔁 philza

🔰 etoyless Seguir

L+ratio well played gf

🪑 what-the-muffin

@kocwillrock

🦈 kocwillrock Seguir

SHUT UP GO GET KIDNAPPED

🚇 tubbohell

am I missing something since when does etoiles have a girlfriend???

342 notas

🪑 what-the-muffin 🔁 what-the-muffin

🦈 kocwillrock Seguir

HOW IS HE GOOD AT EVERYTHING ITS FUDGING BEANBAG TOSS

🪑 what-the-muffin

hey foolish what does étoiles use when it rains

🪑 what-the-muffin

. . .a cucumbrella 0_0

🪑 what-the-muffin

foolish

🪑 what-the-muffin

foolish

🪑 what-the-muffin

foolish

🕓 4ever-420 ☑️🇧🇷 Seguir

Hi bad :D

-- VERIFIED PRESIDENTIAL POST --

🪑 what-the-muffin

Hi forever :D

🪑 what-the-muffin

foolish

🪑 what-the-muffin

foolish

🪑 what-the-muffin

foolish

🪑 what-the-muffin

foolish

666 notas

🥵 peterparkoier 🔁 ⚠️ pactriggerwarning

🦄 ayyyyypierre Seguir

If you want free GEGGS come to the GEGG factory under the statue of GEGG

🎼 wilbur-soot-official ☑️

i fucking hate gegg

🔎 cellbo Seguir

???

🔎 cellbo Seguir

this is the only thing he's ever posted?!??!??????

⚽ doctor-ovo Seguir

kkkkkkkkkkkkkk

🪪 elquackity ☑️

TU IN INFERNO PECCATORES ET IMBECILES SERA TU TUAM TUAM MISERERE CAELUM IGNEM PLUET ET SANGUIS TUUM IGNIS SIT NON ESSE TE VENIAT ARBITRIO TEMPESTATEM VENIAT ET NUNQUAM TE STULTI OMNES LUDIBRIBUS TUA RETUSUS OVIS ET RETUSUS FERRARIA ERIS OMNES MORTUUM ESSE ACTUTUM USQUAM VALE ET EGO NON REQUIRO

🧪 aquimicaehloka Seguir

what the hell

#qsmp #long post #also i stole a bunch of the usernames from @flunkett and @chewydolls dont want to forget to credit them #i dont even know if this is funny but these posts make me very happy for some reason #and they are very fun to make.#silverware lore #cuesumblur #tw unreality #silverware's cuesumblur

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feralwetcat · 6 months ago

Text

FABLE CHARACTERS AS SKATERS (by a figure skater)

THIS IS GOING IN A RANDOM ORDER, THERE IS NO SENSE IN THE CHAOS

VIOLET - HOCKEY

- VIBES

- YOU CANNOT TELL ME THIS MAN WOULDN'T PLAY HOCKEY

- OR HE WOULD JUST DIE THE MOMENT HE TOUCHED THE ICE/SILLY

KAI/OCIE - FIGURE

- OCEAN ON FROZEN WATER? A BEAST.

- SHE WOULD BE FUCKING AMAZING

- IT WOULD SLAY THAT SHIT SO HARD

ICARUS - FATALITY

- CANNOT SKATE

- WILL FALL OVER

- VERY IDIOT VERY DUMB/SILLY/LH

- VIOLET GIVES THEM LESSONS SOMETIMES

FENRIS - FIGURE

- BITCH? THIS MAN IS A FULL FIGURE SKATER

- GORGEOUS BIG TALL MAN WITH PRETTY HAIR

- DOES JUMPS MAINLY

- USED TO DO HOCKEY BUT SWITCHES WHEN HE REALIZED FIGURE SKATING WAS BETTER FOR HIM

HALEY - BEGINNER FIGURE

- IS OK

- GHOST BUSTERS STARTED PLAYING

- DOES LESSONS AND IS GETTING PRETTY GOOD

RAE - FATALITY

- IM SORRY

- BUT ITS GENETIC/J

AAX - FIGURE

- SAME AS OCIE EXCEPT THEY'RE JUST THAT COOL

- SHES JUST BUILT DIFFERENT

- WORKS HIS TAIL INTO ROUTINES WELL

MOMBOO - FIGURE - VERY BEGINNER

- NOT THE GREATEST BUT IS BEING TAUGHT BY OCIE

- FAMILY BONDING !!!!

ARISANNA - BOTH

- HEAR ME OUT

- WINGS WOULD HELP MOVE FASTER AND WITH MORE AGILITY

- T A L E N T

- THOUGH USED TO BE PRONE TO FATALITY

ADDIE - DOESN'T GET CLOSE TO THE ICE

- explains itseld

CASPIAN - FIGURE

- TWINK ON ICE✨✨✨✨✨

VEN - FATALITY

- TWINK SPINNING ON HIS ASS ON THE ICE✨✨✨✨✨

ULYSSES - FATALITY

- IDK BRO

WILL - FATALITY

- F A L L (LIKE THE AETHER<3)

EASTON - BOTH

- LITERALLY THE MOST TALENTED PERSON

- TEASES EVERYONE ("im better than you and I'm blind")

ATHENA - NUH UH/FIGURE

- REFUSES TO TOUCH THE ICE

- IF THEY DID THEN WOULD FIGURE SKATE

BRUIN - HOCKEY

- BER

- MMMM

SEVEN - FATALITY

- JUST DOESN'T SKATE

GALAHAD - SAME AS SEVEN

MAJOR GODS BONUS:

FABLE - DEAD LOL

- SIX FEET UNDER L CAN'T SKATE WOMP WOMP

ALERION - DEAD (SORTA

- UNCLE AL NONO TOUCH GROUND THAT OKI THEY SUPPORT AND WATCH

NETHERUM - DEAD (NOT LOL)

- :(

ENDERIAN - FATALITY

- CANT SKATE AT ALL

- END MOM ON HER ASS SPINNING IN A CIRCLE

EXTRA BONUS:

ISLA - FIGURE

- MMM SHE SKATE GOOD

- LITERALLY GREW UP IN A COLD CLIMATE??

- DEFINITELY REALLY GOOD

#fable smp #fablesmp #fablesmpblr #fsmp #fsmpblr #fable smp ensamble

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 1 year ago

Note

wibta if i asked for help from the ppl who i harassed for months?

ok so basically i (18f, at the time 16f) really like this group. but one day they just went on "indefinite hiatus" for no reason. and obviously i was really mad. so after a few months of trying to pick the right person to blame i decided it was entirely thr fault of this one asshole, who literally went and made his OWN GROUP like right after this hiatus was announced. the little turd clearly wanted out due to hating his members. and that's not even the worst part. he actually started gaining traction after this dumb little move. and after the turd made a collab with a pretty popular kpop group (and we all know how kpop stans are with their mass streaming) this loser was getting more attention than thr guy that I LIKE.

my guy was the most talented pretty and popular member of the group when it was active, and he could sell out dome tours with his solo work all the time. he just did that in fact. but now that this other bitch was using kpop stans for clout he was the one getting all the attention. and it rubbed off on his group he made and their trash music as well. but this isn't about him it's about me.

like i said i got really upset, and once i decided this was all turd boy's fault, i shamelessly harassed fans of this "person" and the dumb little group he made, mostly by way of spamming gore in their discord servers and wikis. this lasted for months until one of them eventually doxxed me back. i'll admit i shouldn't have done all of this. but i was just fighting against traitors in the industry.

but, it's been over a year since then. and i've moved on. until a few weeks ago. this third guy "came out" in a clear pr stunt. like with a whole press confrence and everything he didnt even try to hide it. and then he dropped a new song right after. somebody's jealous of the sold out dome tour!

but not everyone realises its a pr stunt. ppl are falling for it and streaming the new somg. and if the hype doesn't die down soon my guy will be in THIRD. i can't let that happen or else i'd be a failure but i have a plan.

hypothetically, i would slide back into the discord server, explain my dilemma, and maybe stans of the first turd would be willing to mass stream my guy's amazing new song and i guess i'll mass stream whatever crap their guy shat out recently. they're smart people, they doxxed my cats after all. i'm sure they'll understand.

but i fear that it would be kind of a dick move to act all buddy buddy with a server who i went crazy on and harassed for months on end. but on the other hand i can't let my idol be at only third most monthly listeners in his old group!! so i don't know what to do, wibta if i went through with this?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole #god you could not pay me to be in a big popular band fandom #the small ones are bad enough when drama kicks off #this? no no no i'm good thanks

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misseviehyde · 1 year ago

Text

BITCH-SEED: (The leaving gift)

Jenny loved her younger brother Toby so much. He was funny, kind and musically talented. He was a drummer in a Nirvana inspired school band and didn't lack for moral courage. He was a cool kid who looked out for others - she was really proud of him.

That was why she begged him to stop trying to intervene with her bullying by mean-girl Aimee and her bunch of cronies.

Aimee was a blonde, spoiled rich girl who had taken a dislike to Jenny. She was cruel, self-absorbed and malicious and seemed to spend a considerable part of her energy looking for ways to ruin Jenny's life.

The popular mean girl had a vindictive and cruel streak and Jenny didn't want her brother being targeted and victimised next. Besides, they were moving schools next week so what was the point? Her Dad was getting a job in a new town and the family were all moving. Jenny was looking forward to the fresh start.

She was by the lockers clearing out some of her things ready for the move one day, when she heard a familiar voice.

"Hey loooooser."

Jenny's bowels clenched in fear as she heard the teasing, superior voice of her bully behind her and she turned to see Aimee and her clique of girls standing before her.

Aimee was impossibly pretty. Her blonde hair was platinum and straight and perfect in every way. Her flawless features were smooth and beautiful, her clothing expensive and painfully tasteful. She wore white knee length boots, so shiny you could see your face in them, a pleated black mini-skirt and a cute pink sweater of some highly expensive material. A pretty pink bow was pinned into her hair.

Cold blue eyes regarded Jennny maliciously, Amiee's pink lip-glossed lips twitching into a malevolent smile as she examined her acrylic nails - long and white - and advanced on her victim.

"Ohhh are you clearing out your locker already loser? So sorry to hear you're leaving us. I guess that means you think you're getting away from me?"

Jenny backed nervously away from the other girl and shrieked as she crashed into the open door of the locker behind her. The impact bruised her back and sent a stab of pain through her body.

Amiee and her girls howled with laughter enjoying seeing Jenny make a clutz of herself as usual.

"I'll have to find some other pathetic fuck to do my homework and top up my coffee money," laughed Amiee. "You're so fucking pathetic Jenny. It doesn't matter where you go, you'll never amount to anything."

"Hey - leave her alone," snarled a voice and Jenny felt a stab of fear as Toby suddenly appeared at her side. "You bunch of bitches better leave my sister alone. I'm sick of watching you float around here as if the world owes you a living. None of you have got any real backbone. You're just parasites who live off your Daddy's money. Get out of here."

The girls all looked at one another in genuine puzzlement and Amiee smirked - tossing her hair coldly and folding her arms dangerously beneath her breasts.

"Oh yeah nerd? You think you can protect your dumb sister from us? I don't think so and thanks for helping me make my mind up about something I've been planning for a while. Girls I think it's time we gave our leaving gifts to these losers."

Holding out their palms facing up, the popular girls all began to giggle and smirk as with a buzzing, crackling sound, tiny motes of energy materialised above their open hands. They formed into small spheres of pastel coloured energy that floated in the air. The siblings gawked in astonishment.

Amiee's was the largest. A ball of bratty pink light that shone with a powerful radiance and seemed to whisper toxic ideas into the mind.

"Each of these is a bitch-seed. It's how we make more members of our clique. The seeds contain our memories of makeup, boys and fashion and also our stronger personalities and feminine desires that will corrupt and transform anyone they enter. One of you is going to become JUST like us and I think we both know who..."

Laughing Amiee turned and blew on her seed. It shot from her hand and hit Toby... crackling as it entered his body and he groaned in shock.

He gasped as the delicious pink energy throbbed and thrummed through him and around him... strange new thoughts and desires filling his mind as his bones and body ached.

Doesn't it feel good to be girly?

It did feel... good. Really good.

Toby's short brown hair lengthened and his features became softer. Pretty lashes blinked in astonishment and he tugged uncomfortably at his clothing as his hips cracked out and his chest tingled as budding breasts began to form. He was becoming a girl!

"You see Jenny," laughed Amiee. "When you start your new school - it's the perfect time to send someone to start a new clique there. I've done my research and your new school is pathetically short of bullies. I've decided your brother will be perfect to start things there. He has real leadership potential and once I've turned him into my mini-me then you'll never be free. The transformation changes reality for any who don't witness it, and soon you'll be the only one who remembers your brother. Now let's fill him up with more, girls!"

More bitch-seeds floated from the girls hands and into Toby. Pink and purple sparks crackled as they merged into him and Toby moaned as each one was absorbed into his body accelerating the physical changes.

Toby groaned as his nice personality was attacked and overwhelmed. He felt so sexy and bitchy and it felt so good to give into all the whispering girly voices telling him to accept the power.

Yesssssss let your like loser personality become ours. Be a mean girl, you know you want to.

Toby giggled and threw back his head - eagerly spreading his arms wide and accepting the energy into his body. He needed this! It felt AMAZING!

Amiee watched in wicked delight summoning another ball of energy and sending it into him.

"Yessss that's it bitch... take all our power and let it transform you. Let your new thoughts take control. Become a fucking bitch just like us."

The girls surrounded Toby and holding our their hands shot more energy into his body. Each blast caused Toby to moan in pleasure and to writhe in ecstasy - clearly enjoying the wicked energy pulsing into his body.

"Yessssss... give it to me... mmmmhhh fill me up. Mmmmh this feels so good yes I wanna be a bitch just like you girls!"

Toby moaned as wicked nails shot from his fingers and his hair lengthened and turned lighter then finally platinum blonde. His body became more feminine with tanned soft skin and beautiful features. Hips cracked out as his chest began to bulge pushing his t shirt out in interesting places.

Jenny sobbed in horror as she watched the transformation. She was powerless to stop the corruption. Toby wasn't even resisting!

The girls were all moaning in unison now, the bullies groaning like sluts as they pushed their most evil, depraved, slutty memories and thoughts into the bitch-seeds.

Toby's mind was being corrupted and overwritten by dozens of memories - Amiee's strongest of all. His own useless boy memories were being overwritten.

Memories of sucking dick, spending money, acting like a spoiled bitch filled the transforming sluts mind. It overrode now useless knowledge. Who needed to play the drums when you could be a cheerleader instead? Who needed to know the names of his male friends when he could be friends with the most popular girls in school.

Hours worth of makeup tutorials, knowledge of how to bully people and manipulate others seared through Toby's malleable mind. The bitch seeds were finding fertile ground.

"Yessssss, I love it," drooled the blonde girl happily as her pretty eyes rolled back in her head. "Give me moooooore!"

"Wow girls - she's really receptive. Pump her mind full of our nastiest memories. Turn her into the meanest, most spoiled slut ever. Burn that boy out of her. Make her into our new friend... Naomi."

Naomi moaned happily as she heard her new name. Yes... that was who she was now. Her pink lips curved into a wicked smile as she felt her breasts swell up nice and big and her useless dick retreat into being her new clit. This was MUCH better.

"Fuck yes girls - make me fucking EVIL!" laughed Naomu as she felt all positive memories and love for her pathetic sister burned out of her mind. This was glorious.

Sobbing in the corner Jenny watched her bullying sister being corrupted into the worst kind of bitch.

By now the energies had even affected Toby's former clothing. His Nirvana t-shirt was now no more, replaced instead by a tight pink dress that fit the new bitch perfectly.

Naomi's nails were long and sharp, her shaven pussy covered by a tiny black thong whose string rode up between her perfect ass cheeks. Full firm breasts, bigger then Jenny's stood proudly on her chest and her bitchy blonde hair fell like a perfect wave around her shoulders.

She and Aimee looked like sisters now.

Aimer and Naomi hugged as if they had known each other all their life and Jenny squirmed in fear at the matching smiles on their perfect faces...

*********

Linda had thought she should go say hi to the new girl on the beach. Jenny seemed nice - although the look of terror on her face as Linda approached was weird.

The chubby nerd wasn't sure why Jenny was so terrified and she didn't even see Naomi from behind till it was too late.

Linda moaned as the bitch-seed conjured by Naomi flowed into her body and she began to change. "That's it nerd," hissed Naomi, "let the bitch in you grow. Become the bitch you were born to be."

In moments Linda had been replaced and had become Leanne instead. Now a spoiled beach bitch she moved to flank her new Alpha with a wicked smile on her face.

"Thanks sis," giggled Naomi. "Another new girl for my clique. I do enjoy turning the ones that would have been your friends into MY friends."

Jenny cried as she looked into her once kind brothers sneering face. Naomi was even worse that Aimee had been. She constantly mocked and teased her sister and made her feel inferior. Worse - her parents were totally enthralled by their popular, successful, beautiful daughter and now despised Jenny.

School was a nightmare - Naomi had created a new clique of bullies and turned the school into her personal playground. She was now head cheerleader and dating the quarterback. Having to listen to Naomi scream in ecstasy as Chad fucked her brains out in hwr bigger bedroom next door was yet another indignity Jenny had to endure.

"Oh by the way loser," grinned Naomi. "Aimee and the girls are visiting this weekend. They're staying over the whole time and I bet you can't wait to catch up with her."

Laughing Naomi strutted away to the admiring stares of everyone whilst her sister cried like a pathetic little bitch.

Guess Penny wasn't enjoying her leaving gift after all...

THE END

#evie hyde #bitchification #m2f transformation #corruption #m2f corruption #bully #bitch-seed #brother #mean girl #bad girl #evil

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