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pellucid-constellations · 11 months ago

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Only in Dreams

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: In his dreams, Azriel recounts how he got to his mate.

Word count: 2k

Warnings: Some angst, mentions of injuries

a/n: Hi this is my first acotar fic idk what I'm doing. I've been reading them for years so here's a little one for fun <3 I know it's different from my usual but inspiration is a finicky creature :) Also, italics denote flashbacks.

There was very little Azriel wouldn’t do for his mate.

He had learned that early on.

In those early days, when the bond had made itself known to only him, there was so much confusion and strife within the shadowsinger. He had known you for decades, admired you from afar, and befriended you under self-made pretenses. You were a light, a healer, too good and sweet to be anything to him other than a friend, a coworker.

But you were also his mate.

The air had been knocked from his lungs at the realization.

“Is everything okay?” you had asked, sweet confusion bunching at your brows.

And Azriel couldn’t answer, not for several long beats.

“Az, what’s wrong? You look like Cassian after he took that weird herb Majda wanted me to test.”

Another bout of silence, this time accompanied by soft, warm hands along his cheeks. You leaned in, the sweet scent knocking him out of his stupor. As he jerked back, you only followed, blinking in surprise.

“Azriel—”

“I apologize,” he finally—weakly—stammered out. “I was talking with Rhys.”

“You were talking with Rhys?”

It hadn’t sounded much like a question, but Azriel nodded anyways, enraptured by you and your closeness. He needed to get away, to leave. You were too close. He was too weak.

But then you giggled, and the sound was so melodic and saccharine that he found himself breathless again. He could get lost in that sound. If he was being honest with himself, he had gotten lost in that sound plenty of times before. But now… now. Gods, now you were his mate.

As you laughed some more, teasing retorts echoing in the air, Azriel knew you had no idea.

And, as Azriel had learned, that was fine. You didn’t need to know. Because he knew, and that was enough.

Enough for the overwhelming devotion he felt for you to finally have substance. To finally be validated.

You were his—everything sweet and good was his to protect. And, gods, did he want to protect you.

You made that very difficult in the weeks after the bond had snapped for him. His instincts were in overdrive, taking note of your every move and praying to the cauldron that you were careful when he was sent on missions and you stayed back in Velaris. He had nothing to worry about when that was the case. The inner circle loved you almost as much as he did.

But then Rhys decided you were needed.

With an unreciprocated mating bond and a mate that cared so little for her own self-preservation, that had been Azriel’s worst nightmare.

“Reconsider.”

“There is nothing to reconsider, Azriel. We need a healer in Windhaven to show them that the clipping won’t be seen to fruition. And y/n just so happens to be our court healer,” Rhys carefully explained for the third time.

“Send Majda.”

Rhys held the bridge of his nose. “There is a reason y/n took over her post. Madja is far too old to be making those kinds of trips.”

“Send anyone else,” Azriel rasped, a tightness to his words.

“No. She is the best. It will only be for a few weeks and Cassian—”

“Rhysand.”

Rhys paused at the desperation laced within his brother’s tone. He removed the fingers attempting to abate the ache along his temple and observed Azriel’s clenched fists and restless shadows. Rhys’s lips parted in shock, his eyes blinking in quick succession. Something clicked within his gaze.

“Is she…”

The muscle in Azriel’s jaw quivered. “Just don’t send her there. Please.”

Rhys raised a hand to run down his jaw. “My gods, Azriel. This is…this is—does she know?”

“No,” he replied, quick and low.

“I understand what you’re feeling, but I can’t stop her. You know that, brother.”

And, unfortunately, Azriel knew that.

When you set your mind to something—when you knew you were going to help people—that was it. There would be nothing keeping you from helping those in need. Especially the Illyrian women. Azriel was pretty sure you kept a dartboard somewhere in the house with Lord Devlon’s face on it.

He loved that about you, truly he did. But it also made you reckless.

There were plenty of instances where you burned yourself out from healing. You would come home swaying on your feet or be so depleted you couldn’t even winnow correctly. He could count on two hands the amount of times you passed out at the dinner table after work. When he thought about you doing that in Windhaven… Azriel couldn’t even stomach the thought.

“Then order her,” Azriel gritted out. He could hear you coming. You and Cassian, bags packed, chatting down the hall about something insignificant.

Why couldn’t he come, again?

Right, because he would “stir up the camp” or whatever obtuse reason Rhys had given him.

“You know that won’t go over well,” Rhys countered.

“Neither will the entirety of Windhaven if she gets hurt.”

Azriel’s threat fell on deaf ears as you came bounding into the room, bright and determined and smiling at him as if you weren’t leaving.

“Here to see us off, Az?”

That trip to Windhaven had been awful—for Azriel and for you. Rhys’s “ordering” hadn’t been effective, and neither had Cassian’s ability to pick up on context clues. As you stood, baffled at Rhys’s sudden change in plans, Cassian didn’t so much as look at Azriel’s subtle vies for assistance. Because Cassian had been just as baffled as you were.

So, you went to Windhaven.

And then you came home hurt.

Not terribly, just a few cuts and a black eye that rivaled his own from the last time he trained with the Valkyries.

Cassian explained that there had been a fight unrelated to you, but you had gotten caught up in it. He suspected it was a ploy to get hands on you, but Azriel had stopped listening to him the second you landed on the balcony with stitches on your forehead. The moment he saw your hands bandaged and your eye purple and blue.

You had laughed about your inability to fight, knocking an injured hand into Cassian’s side as he jested that it was time for you to get into the training ring with him. Later, Azriel would agree with that sentiment. In that moment, however, unparalleled fear had coursed through his veins. Rhys was the only one ready for it.

Cassian’s back slammed into the far wall of the house, wings splaying out against stone. Azriel’s shadows were gone as he held his brother against the wall, abandoning him in favor of wrapping around your wounds.

Azriel thought he heard you scream.

“You said you would protect her!” he seethed, pushing his forearm against Cassian’s throat, blue siphon blazing atop his hand.

“Azriel, stop!” Your call went unheard. Rhys stood ground in front of you, arm jutting out when you tried to get around him.

Cassian pushed back against him, face twisted in confusion. “I did. I pulled her from that fight as soon as I could, Az. You think—” his words cut off with another shove from his brother “—you think I would have let anything happen to her on purpose?”

Azriel growled, low and dangerous. “All I think is that my mate came back looking like that when you swore to take care of her. You swore.”

The room went silent, stagnant. Even the shadows halted their appraisal of you as you held onto Rhys’s arm. Cassian stopped fighting. Somewhere down the hall, the rushed footsteps of some other member of the family abruptly stopped.

“She’s your mate?”

“Azriel—” Your whisper was lost in the lingering chaos of the room.

The time after was a blur for Azriel. He knew he left the balcony, retreating to his room hastily after sending you a longing, apologetic glance. He knew you called after him, that you were breathless and shaking and Rhys kept holding you back… telling you to give him some time to cool off.

He didn’t need time. He needed you, and Azriel had been positive that would never happen now.

Half of his shadows joined him in his room, engulfing him as he sat on his bed with his head in his hands. The other half stayed with you, still worried about the pain that you had endured. It was a miracle you hadn’t sent them away. They would have listened to you if you had. They would always listen to you.

When the door creaked, his shadows covered him even more, encasing his fear and worry and embarrassment into a shell that kept him safe.

He was a fool.

“Azriel?”

He had to be imagining the sweet trill of your voice. There was no way you had come for him, not after all of that. But soon, your shoes slinked into the mess of shadows between his legs, and a bandaged hand gently guided his chin up.

When he met your eyes, his shadows circled faster. His wings fell lower and lower against the bed, giving himself up to your gaze.

“Azriel,” you repeated, music within the swish of dark air. “Care to explain, shadowsinger?”

The bruises on your face made his stomach turn. He went to look away, to escape this physical and mental turmoil, but you only locked your wrists and kept him there.

It took him a moment, but he finally relented.

“You are my mate,” he spoke, gravely and unsure—even though that was the one thing Azriel was sure of above all else. “You are my mate and you are hurt. I am sorry for my actions… if I scared you or—”

“I wasn’t asking about the display of male violence on the balcony.” Your teasing smile made some of his shadows rest.

It also made hope swell within the deepest parts of Azriel’s wearied chest.

You didn’t look forlorn at his offhanded declaration, nor did you look repulsed. You just looked like… you. You looked at him as you always had, and maybe that meant something.

Maybe that was something for Azriel to hold onto.

“How long have you known?” you asked, when he spent a moment too long admiring the upturn of your mouth.

Azriel blinked, moving his eyes back to your own. “A while.”

“And you weren’t going to tell me?” You didn’t sound accusatory, or even angry as he was sure Feyre had all those years ago. You only sounded sad. That made it worse.

“I wanted to tell you,” Azriel stressed, leaning forward on the bed to capture your legs between his. “I wanted to, I just—y/n, I just…”

There was no solid explanation. You didn’t rush him as he stumbled over his words—you were patient, as you always were. You were patient and Azriel was a coward.

Determination set a line in his brow.

“I was a coward,” he affirmed. “I didn’t want to push you away… to make you feel unsure or pressured. You are… you are everything. You have been everything to me for many years now. If I had ruined that—if I had pushed something upon you that you did not want—”

“Has it occurred to you, Azriel, that I would very much like to be your mate?”

Azriel paused his spiel, licking his drying lips as he searched your eyes for the lie.

“Only when I dream.”

You had kissed him after that, all bruised and scratched and broken, and Azriel found himself dreaming.

As he stared at you across the sitting room, surrounded by your raucous, disruptive family, Azriel dreamed again. The glow of the fire lit up the side of your face as you laughed, sending warmth up the long-accepted mating bond, and he dreamed of you in every iteration of his life.

And he would do anything to keep that dream alive.

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel fanfic #acotar fanfiction #a court of thorns and roses #azriel

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chillinglyadventurous · 1 month ago

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Sneaking Around - Stanford Pines

Tags: NSFW! Age-gap relationship, sneaking around with Ford Pines so his brother, your boss, doesn’t find out.

Be gentle. This is my first NSFW post. I don’t know what I’m doing. I wrote this last night when I was half a sleep. Please ignore typos.

Minors DNI

Part 1 > Part 2 > Part 3 > Part 4

You’d been sneaking around like this for months. What started out as chaste kisses around corners where Stan and the kids couldn’t see turned into Ford sneaking into your bedroom late at night only to sneak out early in the morning. You and Ford both knew Stan would kill him if he ever found out.

Stan had taken on a fatherly role in your life when you started working at the Shack 10 years ago when you were 17. Now, you and his brother were sneaking around like teenagers. It almost reminded you of your high school boyfriend, the one you would ditch work to make out with in the back of his truck.

Now, your back was pressed up against the back of the vending machine door which led down into Ford’s lab. Your legs were wrapped tightly around his waist as he thrust into you. You quieted the little gasps and whimpers escaping your body with the back of your hand held securely between your teeth.

“Shh,” you giggled as Ford let out a guttural groan when your muscles tightened around his length after he had hit just the right spot. “Shh,” you repeated when his hips hitched a bit too hard against your own, the lewd slapping of skin against skin echoing around you.

He fucked into you a bit harder, testing to see how well you could keep yourself quiet. One hand slipping between your bodies. You were already so close and he knew it. He’d had you with his mouth in the basement. He had you with his fingers on the stairs.

A whine escaped you when he slipped two fingers around the base of his cock just to stretch you that much more. Your head fell back into the vending machine with a loud thud your hazy mind couldn’t comprehend. Your walls fluttering in time with your heart.

“That’s it,” Ford encouraged as his fingers and cock held steadfast, thumb circling your clit in a relentless pattern. Clockwise, counterclockwise, and back in rapid succession, “Come on, [Y/N], be a good girl and cum for me.” He chuckled when you bit down on his sweater clad shoulder to stifle the sweet moan he was doing his best to draw out of you, angling himself to keep hitting that spot that made you tremble.

You whined, “Stanford, please!”

He repeated the shush you have given him as he watched your jaw go slack, eyes and forehead crinkled together. Your mouth fell open as he continued he thrusts rhythmically.

Suddenly, you heard Stan’s voice as he guided a group of tourists into the gift shop. You and Ford froze. His cock buried deep inside you, bodies flush. One of his hands slid up your body to cup around you mouth. You did the same to him. Your eyes were wide as you stared into Ford’s. You were breathing so heavily, the air forcing itself through your nose as it was unable to escape your mouth.

Your eyes rolled back and a whine escaped you when he adjusted you to keep you from falling, sheathing himself deeper into you as he pressed you further into the back of the vending machine. He was too still and you needed him too much for this to stop. Your mind body was screaming, unconsciously milking him in an attempt to get him thrusting again, but he wouldn’t budge. In a last ditch attempt, your hips rocked against him.

A loud groan slipped through his lips and past your hand. He gave you a stern look before dropping you back onto your feet, “Naughty girl.”

You could hear Stan’s angry voice, “Well, folks, it seems my cashier has mysteriously disappeared!”

Your state was incredulous as he flipped the hem of your dress back down to your knees, stuffing his cock back into his pants before zipping them up. A frustrated huff left him, but he kissed your forehead so sweetly.

Your body still buzzed with arousal, throwing your arms around his neck to keep him close to you. Damn Stan and his fucking tourists. You kissed him once, twice, three times, “I’ll sneak out. You go back down there.”

“I’ll make it up to you later, I promise,” his forehead rested against yours as he took a calming breath.

This wasn’t fair. He knew it. The sneaking around was killing both of you. It may have been incredibly sexy, but it often led to moments like this, unable to finish. You were both often left frustrated and needy. It was really starting to get to both of you.

You kissed his lips, sending a shock of pleasure down through both of you. “I love you,” you whispered when his hands left you, his body peeling off of yours.

“I love you too,” he smiled before disappearing into the elevator.

You slipped from behind the vending machine. The tourists didn’t notice you, but Stan did. His face angry. Time was money, “There she is, everyone!” You gave Stan a sheepish smile before strolling back behind the counter on shaking legs, “Remember, we put the fun in ‘No Refunds!’”

As the crown browsed, Stan strolled to stand next to you. The stool beneath you was the only thing keeping your knees from giving out, “Sorry, Ford was showing me the quantum destabilizer. I lost track of time.”

“I let you live here for free kid,” he grouched, “don’t be skipping out on work to hang out with that nerd.” Stan snorted, “I think he has a little crush on you. I’d kill him if he ever touches you. Can’t have him distracting my best employee.”

You nodded, “Sorry, Stan.”

#gravity falls #gravity falls x reader #stanford pines #stanford pines x reader #chillinglyadventurousfics #ford pines x reader #ford pines #ford pines smut

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mostlysignssomeportents · 9 months ago

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The majority of censorship is self-censorship

I'm on tour with my new novel The Bezzle! Catch me TONIGHT in SAN DIEGO (Feb 22, Mysterious Galaxy). After that, it's LA (Saturday night, with Adam Conover), Seattle (Monday, with Neal Stephenson), then Portland, Phoenix and more!

I know a lot of polymaths, but Ada Palmer takes the cake: brilliant science fiction writer, brilliant historian, brilliant librettist, brilliant singer, and then some:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/02/10/monopoly-begets-monopoly/#terra-ignota

Palmer is a friend and a colleague. In 2018, she, Adrian Johns and I collaborated on "Censorship, Information Control, & Information Revolutions from Printing Press to Internet," a series of grad seminars at the U Chicago History department (where Ada is a tenured prof, specializing in the Inquisition and Renaissance forbidden knowledge):

https://ifk.uchicago.edu/research/faculty-fellow-projects/censorship-information-control-information-revolutions-from-printing-press/

The project had its origins in a party game that Ada and I used to play at SF conventions: Ada would describe a way that the Inquisitions' censors attacked the printing press, and I'd find an extremely parallel maneuver from governments, the entertainment industry or other entities from the much more recent history of internet censorship battles.

With the seminars, we took it to the next level. Each 3h long session featured a roster of speakers from many disciplines, explaining everything from how encryption works to how white nationalists who were radicalized in Vietnam formed an armored-car robbery gang to finance modems and Apple ][+s to link up neo-Nazis across the USA.

We borrowed the structure of these sessions from science fiction conventions, home to a very specific kind of panel that doesn't always work, but when it does, it's fantastic. It was a natural choice: after all, Ada and I know each other through science fiction.

Even if you're not an sf person, you've probably heard of the Hugo Awards, the most prestigious awards in the field, voted on each year by attendees of the annual World Science Fiction Convention (Worldcon). And even if you're not an sf fan, you might have heard about a scandal involving the Hugo Awards, which were held last year in China, a first:

https://www.nbcnews.com/news/world/science-fiction-authors-excluded-hugo-awards-china-rcna139134

A little background: each year's Worldcon is run by a committee of volunteers. These volunteers put together bids to host the Worldcon, and canvass Worldcon attendees to vote in favor of their bid. For many years, a group of Chinese fans attempted to field a successful bid to host a Worldcon, and, eventually, they won.

At the time, there were many concerns: about traveling to a country with a poor human rights record and a reputation for censorship, and about the logistics of customary Worldcon attendees getting visas. During this debate, many international fans pointed to the poor human rights record in the USA (which has hosted the vast majority of Worldcons since their inception), and the absolute ghastly rigmarole the US government subjects many foreign visitors to when they seek visas to come to the US for conventions.

Whatever side of this debate you came down on, it couldn't be denied that the Chinese Worldcon rang a lot of alarm-bells. Communications were spotty, and then the con was unceremoniously rescheduled for months after the original scheduled date, without any good explanation. Rumors swirled of Chinese petty officials muscling their way into the con's administration.

But the real alarm bells started clanging after the Hugo Award ceremony. Normally, after the Hugos are given out, attendees are given paper handouts tallying the nominations and votes, and those numbers are also simultaneously published online. Technically, the Hugo committee has a grace period of some weeks before this data must be published, but at every Worldcon I've attended over the past 30+ years, I left the Hugos with a data-sheet in my hand.

Then, in early December, at the very last moment, the Hugo committee released its data – and all hell broke loose. Numerous, acclaimed works had been unilaterally "disqualified" from the ballot. Many of these were written by writers from the Chinese diaspora, but some works – like an episode of Neil Gaiman's Sandman – were seemingly unconnected to any national considerations.

Readers and writers erupted in outrage, demanding to know what had happened. The Hugo administrators – Americans and Canadians who'd volunteered in those roles for many years and were widely viewed as being members in good standing of the community – were either silent or responded with rude and insulting remarks. One thing they didn't do was explain themselves.

The absence of facts left a void that rumors and speculation rushed in to fill. Stories of Chinese official censorship swirled online, and along with them, a kind of I-told-you-so: China should never have been home to a Worldcon, the country's authoritarian national politics are fundamentally incompatible with a literary festival.

As the outrage mounted and the scandal breached from the confines of science fiction fans and writers to the wider world, more details kept emerging. A damning set of internal leaks revealed that it was those long-serving American and Canadian volunteers who decided to censor the ballot. They did so out of a vague sense that the Chinese state would visit some unspecified sanction on the con if politically unpalatable works appeared on the Hugo ballot. Incredibly, they even compiled clumsy dossiers on nominees, disqualifying one nominee out of a mistaken belief that he had once visited Tibet (it was actually Nepal).

There's no evidence that the Chinese state asked these people to do this. Likewise, it wasn't pressure from the Chinese state that caused them to throw out hundreds of ballots cast by Chinese fans, whom they believed were voting for a "slate" of works (it's not clear if this is the case, but slate voting is permitted under Hugo rules).

All this has raised many questions about the future of the Hugo Awards, and the status of the awards that were given in China. There's widespread concern that Chinese fans involved with the con may face state retaliation due to the negative press that these shenanigans stirred up.

But there's also a lot of questions about censorship, and the nature of both state and private censorship, and the relationship between the two. These are questions that Ada is extremely well-poised to answer; indeed, they're the subject of her book-in-progress, entitled Why We Censor: from the Inquisition to the Internet.

In a magisterial essay for Reactor, Palmer stakes out her central thesis: "The majority of censorship is self-censorship, but the majority of self-censorship is intentionally cultivated by an outside power":

https://reactormag.com/tools-for-thinking-about-censorship/

States – even very powerful states – that wish to censor lack the resources to accomplish totalizing censorship of the sort depicted in Nineteen Eighty-Four. They can't go from house to house, searching every nook and cranny for copies of forbidden literature. The only way to kill an idea is to stop people from expressing it in the first place. Convincing people to censor themselves is, "dollar for dollar and man-hour for man-hour, much cheaper and more impactful than anything else a censorious regime can do."

Ada invokes examples modern and ancient, including from her own area of specialty, the Inquisition and its treatment of Gailileo. The Inquistions didn't set out to silence Galileo. If that had been its objective, it could have just assassinated him. This was cheap, easy and reliable! Instead, the Inquisition persecuted Galileo, in a very high-profile manner, making him and his ideas far more famous.

But this isn't some early example of Inquisitorial Streisand Effect. The point of persecuting Galileo was to convince Descartes to self-censor, which he did. He took his manuscript back from the publisher and cut the sections the Inquisition was likely to find offensive. It wasn't just Descartes: "thousands of other major thinkers of the time wrote differently, spoke differently, chose different projects, and passed different ideas on to the next century because they self-censored after the Galileo trial."

This is direct self-censorship, where people are frightened into silencing themselves. But there's another form of censorship, which Ada calls "middlemen censorship." That's when someone other than the government censors a work because they fear what the government would do if they didn't. Think of Scholastic's cowardly decision to pull inclusive, LGBTQ books out of its book fair selections even though no one had ordered them to do so:

https://www.nytimes.com/2023/05/06/books/scholastic-book-racism-maggie-tokuda-hall.html

This is a form of censorship outsourcing, and it "multiplies the manpower of a censorship system by the number of individuals within its power." The censoring body doesn't need to hire people to search everyone's houses for offensive books – it can frighten editors, publishers, distributors, booksellers and librarians into suppressing the books in the first place.

This outsourcing blurs the line between state and private surveillance. Think about comics. After a series of high-profile Congressional hearings about the supposed danger of comics to impressionable young minds, the comics industry undertook a regime of self-censorship, through which the private Comics Code Authority would vet comings for "dangerous" content before allowing its seal of approval to appear on the comics' covers. Distributors and retailers refused to carry books without a CCA stamp, so publishers refused to publish books unless they could get a CCA stamp.

The CCA was unaccountable, capricious – and racist. By the 60s and 70s, it became clear that comic about Black characters were subjected to much tighter scrutiny than comics featuring white heroes. The CCA would reject "a drop of sweat on the forehead of a Black astronaut as 'too graphic' since it 'could be mistaken for blood.'" Every comic that got sent back by the CCA meant long, brutal reworkings by writers and illustrators to get them past the censors.

The US government never censored heroes like Black Panther, but the chain of events that created the CCA "middleman censors" made sure that Black Panther appeared in far fewer comics starring Marvel's most prominent Black character. An analysis of censorship that tries to draw a line between private and public censorship would say that the government played no role in Black Panther's banishment to obscurity – but without Congressional action, Black Panther would never have faced censorship.

This is why attempts to cleanly divide public and private censorship always break down. Many people will tell you that when Twitter or Facebook blocks content they disagree with, that's not censorship, since censorship is government action, and these are private actors. What they mean is that Twitter and Facebook censorship doesn't violate the First Amendment, but it's perfectly possible to infringe on free speech without violating the US Constitution. What's more, if the government fails to prevent monopolization of our speech forums – like social media – and also declines to offer its own public speech forums that are bound to respect the First Amendment, we can end up with government choices that produce an environment in which some ideas are suppressed wherever they might find an audience – all without violating the Constitution:

https://locusmag.com/2020/01/cory-doctorow-inaction-is-a-form-of-action/

The great censorious regimes of the past – the USSR, the Inquisition – left behind vast troves of bureaucratic records, and these records are full of complaints about the censors' lack of resources. They didn't have the manpower, the office space, the money or the power to erase the ideas they were ordered to suppress. As Ada notes, "In the period that Spain’s Inquisition was wildly out of Rome’s control, the Roman Inquisition even printed manuals to guide its Inquisitors on how to bluff their way through pretending they were on top of what Spain was doing!"

Censors have always done – and still do – their work not by wielding power, but by projecting it. Even the most powerful state actors are not powerful enough to truly censor, in the sense of confiscating every work expressing an idea and punishing everyone who creates such a work. Instead, when they rely on self-censorship, both by individuals and by intermediaries. When censors act to block one work and not another, or when they punish one transgressor while another is free to speak, it's tempting to think that they are following some arcane ruleset that defines when enforcement is strict and when it's weak. But the truth is, they censor erratically because they are too weak to censor comprehensively.

Spectacular acts of censorship and punishment are a performance, "to change the way people act and think." Censors "seek out actions that can cause the maximum number of people to notice and feel their presence, with a minimum of expense and manpower."

The censor can only succeed by convincing us to do their work for them. That's why drawing a line between state censorship and private censorship is such a misleading exercise. Censorship is, and always has been, a public-private partnership.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/22/self-censorship/#hugos

#pluralistic #ada palmer #worldcon #hugos #china #science fiction #fanac #publishing #censorship #systems of information control during information revolutions #scholarship

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johnbrand · 3 months ago

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Being Proactive

“Hey princess, how about you go grab me a beer while we wait for everyone else to arrive.”

“Sure thing, Mario!”

I ran inside as fast as I could, trying my best to hold back the smile that was threatening to escape. I could not believe how easily my plan was working. Ever since I caught that twisted, hungry bottom flirting with my boyfriend, I knew I had to take action. It was just fascinating how simple it all had been.

My boyfriend was a solid-but-sensitive type, big and muscular but soft, which sometimes worked against him. He had not even noticed when Mario had batted his pretty eyelashes for him, or when the bottom pouted with a sickly sweet: “We should hang out more, I’m sure I’d make it worth your time.” But I had known the signs however, and I planned to be proactive. A simple search on the web led me to a solution I could only hope would do the trick.

It was some form of an incantation, performing rites onto an article of clothing with the necessary ingredients. Some rose-embedded candles, feathers of a raven, off-brand vinegar...all stuff I could easily find in the city. And once brought together, the ingredients were meant to create a migration ritual, transferring the essence of one person through an article of clothing onto another being. My plan was for Mario to be at the receiving end, absorbing the identity of my choosing.

And luckily for me, there was no better offering than my arrogant, womanizing older brother. Eric was a decent enough sibling growing up, although we had rarely spoken since my coming out. But overall, he was a different man on the streets. If he was not tackling another dude on the field, then Eric was surely tackling another chick into bed. Therefore, if I could imbed this same heterosexual passion into Mario, I knew I would never have to deal with him skankly attempting to steal my boyfriend every again.

The set-up had been simple: a pool party with everyone supposedly invited. Of course, I had only reached out to Mario, and had neglected to inform him of the "pool" portion of the party. He was so thankful when I offered him my "spare" pair of speedos, taking the pink-patterned briefs from me without a second thought. He could have never known they had been soaking the entire night before in a brew with my older brother’s own sweat-stained boxers.

At first, the changes had not been evident, but eventually I began to witness the consequences of my actions. Mario had gradually grown taller, every minute having added an extra half-inch to his torso or legs. With this came the expansion of his muscles, defining the bottom’s once-lean figure with juicier, more defined features.

Now approaching with the beer he had requested, I was able to take in even more changes that had happened while I had been inside. Hair had begun sprouting from Mario’s previously-shaven legs, and his queer mullet had tightened into a douchey French crop. I could even sense his attitude had shifted; Mario was no longer displaying his former star feature (his perky bottom), but instead showcasing his new pride (his literal, much larger pride).

“Good girl,” Mario taunted, chugging the whole can in one go. The teasing nicknames were new too. I should have been insulted, but I was too busy relishing in my success. What other attributes from my older brother would Mario soon absorb?

BUUUUUUUUURRRPP! “So how long until they get here anyway?” Mario groaned, tossing the crushed can aside.

“Shouldn’t be much longer,” I replied without removing my eyes from him, hoping to witness another change.

Mario noticed my directed attention, assuming it was regarding the swimwear. “This wasn't all some plan to get me into a faggy speedo, was it? I'm beginning to think you wanted a real man like me all to yourself."

The accusation caused me to break, stunned at the rude remark. Mario smirked smugly. “What, something wrong, girly?”

“Yeah, what you're saying is insul-”

“Learn your place and go grab me another beer,” Mario ordered. “You don’t want me to have to get up, do you?”

Surprised and feeling a sudden loss of control, I turned away and made my way back to the kitchen. For the first time I began considering how Mario's conversion may have created an even worse monster than I could have imagined. My once proactive solution no longer appeared to be such.

#gay to straight #male tf #male transformation #dumbification #jock tf #unintended results

484 notes · View notes

winterzsurprise · 2 months ago

Text

Change My Mind [2]

Pairing: BTS x reader

SUMMARY: As a make-up artist, you were expected to glamorize your clients with brushes and products that cost a week-worth of food, not to befriend them outside of work, let alone have them save you from dates yet here you are five years later as one of their closest confidants.

Being a stylist of the world's biggest boyband is no easy feat, someone is doing flips, someone can't stay still and one's asleep but its fine, you can work around their chaos but then one day, you find out they're all your soulmates, a whole different can of chaos you don't think you can handle.

Tags: Soulmates AU, Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Not Beta Read, Slow Build, Polyamory, Attempts at Humor

Words: 8.6k

I posted this a day later than the one on ao3 because I forgor :''DD

Seeing the support and comments from both website got me off my ass to fix the storyline, even made a lot of changes on the chapters I've had preserved.

this chapter got rewritten a LOT, and was longer than it initially was so I hope y'all don't mind long chapters.

<<<Prev || MASTERLIST || Next>>>

__________

There's been times where your heart has truly fluttered for a man throughout your lifetime. Too many times has it been because some of your bosses (read: Jimin) flirted with you but you have never felt anything remotely giddy for anyone else outside the group.

Except for the man now sitting in front of you, flashing you a dimpled smile after handing out his card with an ease you only see in your friends and male leads in dramas. An action more attractive than any kabaedon or flexed muscles.

He's attractive but you don't like like him.

Yoo Guwon came to you as a bashful giant, rubbing the back of his head whenever he’s flustered and a constant sheepish smile featuring his deep set of dimples indented on both cheeks. He’s charming and articulate with his words just like a lawyer would be. Everything about him reminds you of another gentle and clumsy giant probably hunched over his music equipment back in the BigHit building.

It’s only been a few hours but you surprisingly covered most of the basic grounds of first meeting conversations during the short time you drove around Han River in a two seated bicycle. From the meager questions of ‘what dreams do you have?’ to the more complex and deeper ‘If the world falls into ruin, will you burn my body when I die?’.

Too graphic for a first date but you wanted to test the waters and you concluded that he’s too perfect.

He knows the right words to say, the proper way to act and it makes you suspicious. Your mother has never recommended you to a good guy before, having a track record of ten shitty suitors who all ran their mouths about their mediocre achievements, and dared to ask you about your purity before ranting about how dirty you are for not saving yourself for your husband the moment they find out you're not a virgin anymore. Then all of a sudden, she led you to good boy Guwon.

And it makes your skin crawl.

What did that woman eat? Has your father fed her something bad this time? What is she planning? It’s scary how she has finally advocated for an actual nice guy.

After taking you to a museum you're sure Namjoon has visited once, he drove you both to the Han River to rent a double seated bike to drive around with before ending the night with a nice reservation somewhere in the Seocho district.

The place is as sophisticated as fine dining areas usually are. With an intimate lighting, marbled tabletops matched with soft cushioned seats and high ceilings to make space for modern glass chandeliers, the restaurant was no doubt expensive, the type you have to reserve a spot two months prior to be able to experience its greatness. The point was driven home when you saw the amount of zeros it cost for one can of soda.

You asked him how he managed to get a table and he went down the rabbit hole of the many advantages he got from successful cases, ranging from a free monthly subscription to fruit baskets to a free week-long voucher to a five star hotel somewhere in Busan.

Going back to the butterflies, while not as wild as it got when Hoseok possessively wrapped an arm thrown around your waist to pretend as your boyfriend to ward off a persistent suitor, they're there, albeit subtle.

Very subtle.

Maybe it's in the way he didn't think twice to hand out his card towards the waiter in the most suave way with the thick golden watch decorating his wrist, sleeves neatly folded up to reveal the thick cords of veins on his forearms with his hair strewn messily and a dimpled smile that made you react like that.

You ignore the voice comparing his uncannily similar traits to someone else.

Meeting Guwon wasn't like how the movies illustrated love at first sights. They talked of fireworks exploding in the background and hearing the sweet chimes of wedding bells upon eye contact but for him, it's just that. A meeting far more formal than you'd like. He has a lot of qualities that check your list of husband material traits yet instead of butterflies, you could only feel an echoing hollowness in your chest as you listen to him list out his future plans.

It felt like surrendering to the fate the divinities had weaved out for you which is being an untethered forced to love someone you don't even feel any spark with.

He's a nice man who’s offering a comfortable future and you're just a woman who wishes to live a lavish life at home while your husband wastes his years away in the office. You might be a hopeless romantic who wished for soulmates and the like but you're not blind to the opportunity Guwon offers you.

You haven't texted the gc anything during the date other than the selfie you took before you left for the date but there's been constant vibrations in your purse and it's no doubt the guys asking for updates but for a moment you wanted to try to focus on the man before you.

Not that it wasn't hard to try with Guwon anyways.

Whenever the man spoke of his achievements and hobbies with a humble approach, he never forgot to ask you for your opinion or input on the topic. You also noted how he has never cut you off and let you speak whenever you wanted, listening with an eagerness only your friends usually show. He asked relevant questions with a genuine curiosity, eager to know more about you.

So when he asked if you wanted to go on a second date that night, it came to no surprise for anyone when you accepted it albeit the heaviness in your heart.

It was funny how eagerly you searched for a husband you could bring to your parents' doorsteps but the moment someone with all the qualities you seeked came, it felt disappointing. Boring even.

But you can learn, this man is your ticket to living without working anymore.

It came to no one's surprise that your mother was overjoyed, she wasted no time calling you before you could even change to squeeze the memory of today out of you.

The shrill scream of victory she let out that night was unforgettable because finally, a suitor you actually liked. Your dad even congratulated her off-screen for her matchmaking achievements before telling you to bring Guwon home to meet them.

Logically, you’re aware you've won the love roulette—Guwon has it all, he checked every box on your list, yet it felt like defeat and it tasted foul, bitter on your tongue.

You couldn't tell them that it was you deciding to settle, that would break her heart.

Tapping the end call button felt like the dam breaking and all the water held onto for so long flowed out. You fall lifelessly on your bed with a heavy sigh. Taking a couple evening breaths, you finally opened the group chat with an overwhelming number of unread messages.

[Today, 08:49]

[08:49] Mimi: I'd run my bank dry to take you on dates if you'd dress so pretty like that, noona~

[08:49]Tete: We're really seeing this for free when the poor guy has to pay for it. #livingapriviledgedlife😁👍

[08:49] Hobi: Wow noona🤯

[08:50] Yoongs: 👍

[08:55] Tete: Wait, I don't think those shoes fit you, go back home and change it😁

[08:56] Jinnie: Hey, you're showing too much skin on the first date! Go back and change!

[08:57] Joonie: Ignore these haters noona, I hope you enjoy your day😊

[Today, 21:48]

[21:48] Jinnie: are you home yet? You haven't seen our messages in HOURS.

[21:48] Tete: NOONA DID YOU GET MURDERED?!😱

[21:50] Joonie: Let's be rational guys, don't jump to conclusions. The date might just be going great if she's busy enough to not check her phone😊.

[21:51] Mimi: doing great? don't scare me like that hyung😵‍💫

[21:51] Tete: BUT WHAT IF SHE GOT KIDNAPPED HYUNG????

[21:51] Hobi: please reply soon, we're worried🥲

Jungkook's absence from the conversation didn't come to you as a shock, the kid doesn't even reply to you for a week despite being one of the people who raised him. Nonetheless, you sat up from your bed to record a quick video of you giving them a thumbs up and turning the camera to show your room.

The latter was an assurance to Taehyung that no, you also didn't get kidnapped into someone else's house to be someone's housekeeper, and no, it wasn't a clone either.

The moment your message gets sent, the replies blow up your phone almost instantaneously.

[22:28] Mimi: noona you're alive!

[22:28] Joonie: How did the date go?😊

[22:28] Jinnie: how nice of you to remember to update us PEASANTS.

[22:28] Mimi: How was Guwon?

[22:29] Tete: I KNEW WE SHOULD'VE WENT WITH YOU ANYWAYS

[22:29] You: Shockingly, he's a pretty nice guy. Not too bad on the eyes, and pretty smart. I think you'd get along well with him, joon. He's a lawyer so he covered most of the expenses today😁

[22:29] You: Overall, it was great, we're gonna go on a second one. He's pretty cool.

Instantly, messages from the members, even Jungkook’s to your surprise, flooded your screen.

[22:30] Tete: Noona you've been cursed! We need to bring you to the nearest shaman to break it!!

[22:30] Mimi: don't joke with us noona

[22:30] Mimi: I just got goosebumps!

[22:30] Joonie: Congratulations are in order then? Will we be expecting him around you soon?

[22:31] Yoongs: I need to meet him, need to know if he's good enough

[22:31] Yoongs: men are trash, I need to see him for myself before I decide

[22:32] Yoongs: and you know what they say about lawyers, they LIE. I wouldn't trust him

[22:32] Jinnie: WE need to meet the man who managed to steal your heart! I want to talk to him😊

[22:32] Mimi: don't use that emoji again, hyung

[22:32] Hobi: SCARY JWANN😱

[22:32] Joonie: Let’s not threaten anyone please.

[22:32] Joonie: But I'm really happy for you 😁.

[22:33] Tete: Those periods really scares me hyung…

[22:33] Tete: Somehow, I don't think you mean it…

[22:33] Joonie: What makes you think that, tae?😁.

[22:33] Tete: 😰

[22:34] Ggukie: a few drinks will fix you up, noona😁

[22:34] Mimi: you'll invite me this time right?

[22:34] You: I don't know, you already used your mischief hours this week, I doubt Sejin would be so kind next time.

[22:34] Hobi: if he does that right now during practice, I also wouldn't be so kind to him😊

[22:34] Mimi: you are scaring me hyung…

[22:34] Hobi: good😊

[22:34] Tete: Hyung, are you just gonna ignore Jungkook leaving?!?!!?

The messages continued for a good five minutes, mostly consisting of holding Jimin back from leaving practice and him sending pictures of the infamous Hoseok death glare from across the room before your doorbell chime rang, making you shoot up straight.

A beat. Then it continues in three quick successions, the knocks almost in sing-song and sounded like two hands were used to produce the tune, giving you an inkling on who might be visiting you at this late hours of night.

Padding out of your room, the front door suddenly swings open without warning and you yelp. By the doorsteps stands the intruder, a tall man in a black coat with his face hidden by a mask and a cap. Your body would've frozen a thousand times over if you didn't know this stranger who's hugging two paper bags, one overflowing with snacks and the other a breeze away from tearing apart from the weight and water drenching the material of the bag.

"Hi noona!"

After today, seeing Jungkook felt like a cure, his presence alone repelling the heaviness in your shoulders and you ushered him inside and he wandered into your home with ease, approaching the coffee table to place down the shopping bags.

Suddenly you remembered what he had scheduled prior.

"You're putting me on Hoba’s punishment rotation, what are you doing here?"

He giggled. “We both know he won't, hyung loves you more than me.”

He falls on your couch with the ease of someone who has visited your space numerous times throughout the years, propping up his feet on the back support and folding his arms underneath his head before staring up at you, expectantly.

"Anyways, I brought us food and drinks, don't I deserve a little praise?"

Sometimes it's easy to forget how young Jungkook really is, forced to grow and act mature to blend in with his surroundings, you've always seen him stand with pride alongside his hyungs. Seeing him awaiting for your praise so eagerly like a pup fills your heart with awe.

"Yeah yeah, good job. Now move over, let me sit down."

You tapped his arm, motioning him to move over so you could sit next to him, something he obeyed without resistance, busying himself in removing the contents from the soiled paper bag instead.

“Couldn't you have put some effort into it? At least sound grateful.” He pouts. Placing down the cluster of beer cans, you turned to him and pinched his cheeks.

“Oh my dearest darling, thank you for saving this noona of yours. Such an amazing baby I have here.”

Despite being the one who asked for it, Jungkook only rolled his eyes with a barely held back grin as he slapped your hands away, making you laugh, and turned to the bag holding the snacks he bought. You didn't miss the redness dusting his cheeks or the cheeky grin that tugged his lips wide as he spilled the contents of the last bag onto the table.

There's a significant amount of sweets and snacks laid before you, as well as stacks of canned beers and you turned to him with furrowed brows.

"Wouldn't this ruin your diet?"

He waved you off with a huff. "I work out enough to eat all of these in one sitting."

Instantly, your mind brings you back to white walls and gray furniture, faced with manager Sejin who warned you about interfering with the idols' diet at the start of your career. If it wasn't for Bang PD waving off their concerns, saying they needed to be rewarded for their hard work anyways, you would've been long booted out of the company.

It's a matter long settled yet it remains to weigh heavily in your head.

Seeing the hesitation in your eyes, Jungkook continues.

"I can show you proof of my efforts,"

He then reached down to the fabric of his shirt tucked into his jeans and tugged it up, flashing you the tightly corded muscles in forming on his abdomen and the thin happy trail you often see when patting his sweat down during concerts and you hastily pulled it back down with a yelp, cheeks growing hot while he laughed.

As he throws his head back in his mirth, you couldn't help but notice the way adulthood has taken away the fullness of his cheeks and has sharpened his features. A far cry from the sensitive young boy who cried his eyes out every time his hyungs got hurt.

There was no denying that Jungkook had grown without you noticing and it makes your chest swell with pride knowing he's been raised well by the others, in extension, although not so much, you as well.

"Don't worry so much about me, noona. I can handle the consequences now, you leave the reprimanding to me."

Under the warm overhead light of your living room, even with the exaggerated puff of his chest and his nose turnt up high, Jungkook's shoulder had never looked sturdier, reliable, in your eyes. You smiled, reaching to pinch both his cheeks making him grin wider than he already was.

"Look at you acting so cool, when did you grow so much?"

He rolled his eyes, pulling your hands away from his cheeks and entangling it with his. “I've always been cool, you just don't pay attention to me, noona.”

Before you could reply, he's already moved to reach for the beverages on the coffee table, popping two of them open and handing you one can, immediately you take a swig.

The beer fizzled in your tongue and left a trail of burns down your throat. The sensation is refreshing nonetheless and you place it down next to him before picking up the large bags of chips and standing up.

"I'll go put these in a bowl, go put something on the tv."

"Can I play anime?"

You waved at him dismissively, unable to find it in yourself to say no to him as you head towards your kitchen to transfer the junk into a bowl when a shrill tune from your bedroom cuts through the air, someone was calling you. You look over to Jungkook, scrolling through his phone, no doubt looking for a movie online.

"Gguk, can you pick up the call for me? My hands are busy right now."

There's a shuffle of feet behind you and in a moment, your phone quietens down. Finished with filling one bowl, you turn to find Jungkook leaving your room with a deep look and your phone in hand. His jaw set tight as he stood there with furrowed brows, eyes lit with irritation.

Looking at his reaction, you asked about your mysterious caller.

"Who was it?"

When he turned to you, the tick in his jaw dispersed. All of a sudden, he's smiling at you with mischief twinkling in his eyes, the change giving you a whiplash.

"It was the others, didn’t answer their calls cause I want you for myself tonight, noona."

(Later on, you'd find yourself staring at the many unread messages and two missed calls from Guwon, wondering in your drunken state if you've muted your phone at some point earlier.)

Hearing it from his lips now, your body locks, heart stuttering in your chest and butterflies exploding in your stomach, spreading a tingly feeling throughout your body and you laugh.

"Where did you hear that line from, brat? You just activated my fight or flight!"

"Taehyung says that and gets thanked but when I do it, I'm punished?" He pouts, stomping as he approaches the island counters and crossing his arms on the marble surface.

It reminded you of a bunny you saw from a video on the internet, angrily thumping their feet at their owner when it was being purposely ignored.

“In his defense, he does it while he’s acting like my crazy ‘exes’ and saves me from dates.”

“That’s just favoritism! I saved you once from a date!”

You threw him a deadpan stare. "Throwing me over your shoulders and kidnapping me isn’t the same as Tae and Jimin acting crazy enough to make the other guy uncomfortable to save me.”

Hoseok had your favorite troublemakers kneeled on the floor with both their hands up and facing the wall at the time, punishing them for being an hour late to their practice. He had called you in, asking if they had been accompanying you during —they weren’t.

Long story short, you didn't risk sharing Hoseok’s wrath with the two and took Jungkook instead, a decision you quickly regretted later on in the night when instead of approaching to act like one of your exes when you gave him a signal, he hoisted you up onto his shoulder and ran away while your date only watched in terror.

“Now that’s blatant favoritism! I didn’t kidnap you, we ran away together into the sunset! It was romantic!"

"Not for the other guy, no! He was shitting bricks when he called my mom. She got me squatting the entire afternoon when we met again."

Mentioning it alone made phantom pains throb in your knees and thighs, you shivered. If torture wasn't a socially unacceptable and punishable offense in the modern world, you were sure your mother would have stripped you down to your underwear and made you squat under the sun in front of your family house instead.

The absolute fury she unleashed on you that day is enough proof that she would've done it with no hesitation if it was lawfully appropriate.

"That's too much for a failed date."

"No reason to dwell on it. Main point is, don't take notes from dramas anymore."

With a last roll of his eye, Jungkook then picked up the bowls and brought them to the coffee table following you who had returned to your seat ahead of him. Once the two of you are situated back on the couch, he navigates through the streaming app for an interesting title before eventually settling on the romance anime he claimed to have heard amazing reviews about.

Without hesitation, Jungkook navigates himself into a familiar between your legs and leaned back on your chest, head finding his rightful space under your chin with a precision gained from doing so for years.

It goes without saying that Bangtan is affectionate. With the pressure they had during their rise to fame, it wasn't shocking that they comfortably seeked each other's comfort and spared no skinship. As one of the only staff within constant exposure that's close to their age, you too became one of their pillars of serenity.

It was the reason you had crushes on everyone at least twice during your time as their make-up artist, not that any of the boys knew nor does it matter.

Stability and work takes precedence over something as shaky as love.

There's only so much comfort another man can offer, your mother says from years before.

Jungkook more than anyone else in the group.

As a boy who sacrificed his childhood and time with his parents to pursue his dream, you felt more inclined to watch over him than the others who were adults by the time you joined. You were there for his first heartbreak, his first drink, his high school graduation; the point is, you were there and you held him every time he struggled with problems—mostly girl problems—he's too shy to seek his hyungs for.

But now with his growth spurt, cuddling up to you like he used to when he was younger with his gangly legs awkwardly hanging from the couch, carelessly leaning his head in between the mounds of your breast while his large hand mindlessly drew circles on your knee, you found yourself wondering about the appropriateness of it all.

A man and a woman alone in a room at night in close proximity, body leaning against each other. Society would argue they wouldn’t end the night as friends anymore after the encounter.

You paused mid-drink and grimaced.

It must be the beer talking.

"Noona."

"Yeah?"

"Wrap your arms around me, it's cold."

You raised an eyebrow at him. "It's not though? I always keep my house warm."

He let out an exasperated groan before reaching behind to grab your arm and roughly slinging it on his shoulders.

As time continued its cycle and episodes started to fly across the screen, the pile of opened beer cans on the table expanded. You really tried to focus on the movie but the feeling of his fingers tracing stars on your bare thigh left you oddly bothered. Jungkook has shifted his position higher at some point during the movie, his body now turned sideways, successfully squeezing himself into the small space between you and the back of the couch, legs entangling itself with yours while an arm is thrown across your body.

This position puts his nose closer to your ears and it makes you shiver. The feel of his hot breath fanning across your skin has given you more goosebumps in under an hour more than you've had throughout your life.

Even drunk, you could feel the building tension thickening around you and the will to tell him to off ebbs away with every caress of his fingers.

Gone were the innocent traces of stars and hearts on your thigh, his hand now grabbed onto your waist almost possessively, thumb rolling slow circles on your bare stomach; the motion conjuring the most unholiest of thoughts known to mankind.

When the credits started rolling, you knew you had to draw the line before you lost yourself to intoxicated thoughts and end the night with regrets.

"Time for you to go home now, your hyungs must be looking for you."

You tried prying his hand from your waist so you could reach for your phone on the table only for him to tighten around you, stopping you from moving away. He groaned, head nuzzling closer into your neck and his lips grazed your skin.

Instantly, electric jolts shoot through your body.

"Jungkook, I need to get my phone and tell someone to fetch you from here."

"Can't I just stay the night? I'm too comfortable right now…"

The gruff in his voice and the sensation of his lips moving on your skin has your stomach fluttering and you're too drunk to address the growing heat in your abdomen but thanked the sense of professionalism seeping through the fogs of your intoxicated mind.

Managing to pry him off, you reached for your phone and opened up SMS to tell Jin to pick their youngest up.

[01:21] You: Jwannn

[01:21] You: can you pick up your kid from my house? He's drunk and stinkyyy

[01:23] Jinnie: your knight in shining armor is on the way!

“Just let me stay the nighttt,” he whined into your skin.

"I don't have any more spare beds other than this couch for you to sleep in, Gguk. I turned the other room into a closet, remember?"

"I can just sleep with you on the bed, we used to do that, didn't we?"

He attempted to reach around you again but you pushed his limbs away once more before slapping his arm.

You tried not noticing how thicker and harder the muscles felt, you really did.

"But it's different now, Gguk. Come on, go wash up and drink water, I've already told someo—"

The moment you rose to stand, his arms shot around your waist in record speed and pulled you flush to his front, nuzzling his nose on the back of your neck before he sighed. When the first hot exhale hits your skin, you flinch away but the limbs wounded tightly around your middle restrict you from moving.

You try to ignore the heat simmering under your skin but it was hard when you felt the press of his plush lips on your nape as he leans closer into your skin.

“You always smell so nice, noona.” He whispered breathily, the sensation of his moving mouth sending shivers down your spine and you shivered.

“I-I can give you my lotion brand later, let me go so I can get it.”

“But I'm comfortable here…”

Mustering every strength left in your body, you manage to pull an arm out of the death grip he had on your body and slapped his hand. Jungkook easily ignores it.

“Come on Gguk, let me out now. This isn't appropriate.”

"How is it different now?"

The alcohol intoxicating your system loosened your grip on your inhibitions and your lips regrettably moved faster than your brain.

"You're a man now, Gguk. Honestly, we shouldn't be even doing this right now. It's inappropriate."

You try to stand once more, managing to pry him from your waist and standing up before his arms hooked around you once more and tugging you back down, this time on his lap as he burrows his head onto your back.

"Gguk?"

"Yo-you see me as a man, noona?"

As a child your mother has taught you how words could heavily influence and drastically change a situation, now as an adult, you've mastered the art of speech. But as you sit still on his thighs, body warm and inhibitions blurred by the alcohol, your loose lips have led you back to the very thing you try to avoid.

"It's hard not to think so when you've grown up this much."

In a flash, Jungkook is now hovering over your face as he places you back down on the couch, his nose a hair's width from touching yours and his hands planted on each side of your head.

There's a feral hunger swimming in his eyes as it stared into yours, desperate and intense before it fell to the plush of your parted lips and his gaze darkens. All of a sudden, you're a prey pinned down by an apex predator who's ready to devour you at any given moment.

Fire alarms blared in your mind and you regained control over your senses.

“Jungkook.”

"Noona."

You tried wriggling out of his grasp but it was no use, he's stronger. "Get off of me, kid."

“How many times do I have to tell you that I'm not a kid anymore?”

“I'm not hearing anything out when you're acting like this, Gguk.”

He scoffed. “I just want to sleep here, in the same bed, nothing else is gonna happen. Why is it such a bad thing?”

“It's different now, Gguk. Come on, let me go.”

“How is it so different? You and Jimin hyung cuddle sometimes, I've seen you fall asleep next to Hobi hyung once, why is it different with me?”

“It's different because we're both drunk and things could happen.”

“I wouldn't mind it.” Jungkook responds with a cheeky smile. His grip on one of your wrist loosened enough that you were able to hit his arm and he giggled in response.

“But I do. It wouldn't be fair.”

Even something as small as letting one member stay at your home without the others can be the loudest announcement for the rest of the group. All those times you've rejected your friends, with reasons like ‘I don’t want to risk everything’, and ‘I don't want to hurt the others’, to turn back around to accept their youngest would be hypocritical of you.

He scoffs. "You tell us about all your stupid dates, don't you think it's more unfair for us?”

A familiar weight grows in your chest. Guilt tasted like rust on your tongue and dug into your heart with a ribbed knife. Your own late night thoughts manifesting before you and you pushed him away.

After everything, you were all friends, you trusted them more than you do with your other circle. There's not a secret left undiscussed between the eight of you so it was no surprise that you had indulged them with the details of your quest for a husband. Nobody ever raised any complaints with you sharing your days so you never thought twice about it.

It's been five years since Jin had confessed, three for Taehyung. Their eldest had confessed for the sake of him finally being able to move on after your rejection and with how he acted after, you had believed him. It was different for Taehyung who had continued to act like normal after his confession, neither dejected nor did he show signs of letting go but he did introduce a date to your group once, a year later, so you had assumed the same.

Were you wrong after all?

“Jungkook, we're drunk. Let’s talk about this tom—”

“I've never been more sober in my life than I am right now, noona.”

You didn't respond, couldn't reply.

What were you supposed to even say?

Jungkook usually obeyed you and his hyungs without hesitation, happily offering his aid whenever he could. He's the type of friend who's run himself dry just to fetch you a cup of water from the other side of the world but now as he hovers over you, he became a whole new person.

Greed has always been an irritating parasite that eats away at a person's morals but somehow in your drunken mind, you thought it looked so good on him. It fits him and his generous character the way one light clothing molds well with the dark fabrics. His familiar scent of vanilla and coconut clouded your senses, calming your panicking mind into a hush, leaving nothing but the thoughts of how his lips tasted and wondering if he’s as sweet as he smelled.

He let out a shaky exhale from through his mouth as he watched your parted lips with a rapt attention as if hypnotized by the way they subtly trembled with every breath that passed through.

In the pregnant silence of your room, his voice cuts through like a knife.

“Can I kiss you?”

He whispers against your lips, voice breaking in the middle from the weight of his request, honeyed and pleading, as if your kiss holds the answer to the problems of the world and holds the power to break him.

His hand travels up to cup your cheek oh so carefully like you're fragile china yet you feel yourself shatter under his touch.

You are losing grasp on your sober thoughts as lust starts to cloud your already compromised judgment, his request far too tempting to ignore.

Maybe a kiss wouldn’t hurt.

But wouldn’t it be unfair for the others who have expressed their romantic intentions to you since years ago?

It was a last ditch effort to reason with your mind and your body froze from the cold wave of realization. In the short time after his question, you recall the confessions you turned down to not ruin the relationship Bangtan has established for themselves and the bitter taste it left on your tongue.

“Jungkook… we can’t.”

Watching his expression contort into confused hurt almost made you want to take your words back, but your mind takes you to memories of apologetic and understanding smiles you’ve received throughout the years and the aches from those moments resurfaces, squeezing your heart in a tight grip.

“I-I’m sorry I can’t control my feelings, I just wanted to tell you about it… Thought that maybe after this, I could move on.” An apologetic voice whispers, the memory of premature confessions in the middle of a cleanup resurfacing.

“I can’t—I can’t do it to them, it’d be unfair.”

You pushed him back and he relented, letting himself be sat back onto the other side of the couch defeatedly. Despite it, his tight grip on your waist remained, pulling you flush to him and burying his face in your chest as if trying to hear the lie in your words through the beatings of your heart.

“I’m also seeing Guwon now.”

“Then don’t let me meet him. I-I don’t know if I can take it.”

It was heart wrenching and at the same time, left an uncomfortable twist in your stomach. Jungkook never had to beg since you first met him, everything he could ever want was given to him by you and his hyungs without hesitation. Hearing him plead for you to never bring Guwon around if fate had actually paired you both, it was a different kind of pain.

It felt like thorns growing and rooting its stems of pointy ends into the deepest parts of your heart. You hated this, but you don’t want to hurt any of your boys by accepting one.

Relief comes in the form of Taehyung when he busted into your apartment while Jungkook has excused himself to your bathroom to sober up just a moment before. Seokjin trails behind him, calmer than the younger man who declared his arrival with a deep voice and a loud bang of the door. You immediately thought of the elderly couple and the new family of three living next to you and internally facepalmed.

“Noona! We’ve come to take Jungkook away!”

Kim Seokjin’s face has never been more handsome when he closed the door behind him, and you verbalized your thought, leading his ears to glow red in embarrassment.

“Am I only handsome to you when I’m closing the doors?! This face that people fawn over all over the world?!”

“It’s your true calling, door guy.”

“Oh shut it hyung, you’re making my head hurt.” Jungkook mutters as he reentered the living room, looking far better than when he left.

The tension was palpable, the effect of a rejected profession still raw and thick in the small joined space of the living room and kitchen and you caught Jin's eyes as the two youngest bickered, there’s a knowing look passed between you, an unsaid ‘let’s talk later’ hanging in the air.

“Hey, just because you got to escape Hoba’s practice without scratch doesn't mean you're hot shit, show me some respect!”

Seokjin scolds, accompanied by a playful kick to their youngest’s butt. Immediately the stuffy air dissipates and Jungkook responds in kind; by kicking him in the shin, hard enough to launch Seokjin into another lengthy nag.

It was a quick retrieval after his rant. Jungkook lets himself be towed out of your apartment by an oddly enthusiastic Taehyung who's going on about a new game trailer he saw online while Jin has offered to be left behind to clean up the mess. It was no doubt obvious, the familiar awkwardness and tenseness brought by a rejected confession lingered in the air when they arrived, it only took him one look at you and he already knew.

The moment the door slams shut behind the boys, he immediately began:

“Did he admit it?”

His voice was soft yet it rang loudly in the pindrop silence of your living room. The sigh he let out echoed more when you nodded.

“I told him to not do it, you know? But you know how stubborn he gets.”

You didn’t reply. You simply move, walking to the trash bin to put the empty beer cans in and Jin follows close with the bowls stacked on top of each other to place in the sink. It was a brief moment of reprieve. He let the moment from earlier simmer in your stomach, let the smoke from it fill your lungs and weigh your heart till you burst.

Out of the seven boys, you've always turned to either him or Yoongi as they're older than you, so it came to nobody's shock when you break and told him.

“It just never gets better, I always feel guilty even if I didn’t choose. I’m just lucky I didn’t have to suffer through seven of these, I don’t think I could take it and just quit.”

It was a thought you’ve entertained when Taehyung came to you with his heart in his hand, giving it to you carelessly despite knowing how you’ve handled the other confessions. He was all dopey smiles and flushed cheeks, it continued even when you’ve pushed his heart back to him with an apologetic look.

Seeing the happy creases in his eyes iron out despite the huge boxy smile continuing to play on his lips, the existing pressuring guilt reawakened. Taehyung’s heart that gleamed and glowed gold, vulnerable for you to take and use from where it settled in the middle of his offering palms. You could’ve taken advantage of it all as they were rising in fame, when they were facing discrimination from the other companies and had found comfort in you but you didn’t.

Even with the attraction you've felt for them, you were nothing but a makeup artist to the company. Another asset to deploy and replace if it got annoying to handle. You couldn't risk your career on uncertainties, this is your dream job.

You loved them all equally and held them in the same regards as the others, they’re your best friends, chosen soul companions even without the marks to solidify it.

They loved you and you loved them all but you wouldn't bet your life on an uncertain future.

“You should give us more credit, you know?”

He says from the kitchen sink, the sound of water slowing into a halt. Seokjin didn’t move for a while. When he did, it was to place down the plates, washing his hands before turning around to face you.

“We’re grown adults now, we can handle rejection so don’t feel too bad about it. You can choose and we’d even help you keep it a secret from everyone besides us eight.”

It was genuine. Even in the haze of your intoxication, those words felt like a cool balm for your aching heart. While Namjoon’s words were cited research, formal and factual and Yoongi’s were calming droughts to ease the discomfort of sadness brought by gloomy thoughts, Seokjin speaks from the heart, true and unbiased but says it with a gentleness and care.

Guilt sets like a boulder on your heart. Being able to feel, to experience such a privilege when all you've done is break his heart since your hunt for a husband, the weight in your chest multiplied and tears sprung from your eyes.

You wanted them but you couldn't risk your dream job, couldn't risk a friendship as precious as theirs for kisses and hugs that eventually has its ends.

You didn’t even notice it when he crossed the distance between you both and pulled you plush to his chest but you recognized the familiar sensation of plush lips pressing against your forehead.

If it lingered a few seconds past what's platonically allowed, you didn’t mention it.

Seokjin’s muted scent of freshly baked cakes brought silence to the rampaging waves of thoughts in your mind and if you pressed your nose flush to his chest to bury yourself in his fragrance, he didn’t say anything, bringing one hand behind your head protectively.

“I'm sorry to put you through this pain, Jinnie. I-I didn’t know.”

“I knew you didn’t know but I'll be fine... eventually.” He breathes out before leaning down to bury himself into the nest of your hair. "As long as you're happy, then I am too."

It was heavy, being loved and held so preciously even after you’ve turned him down, it felt cruel, sadistic even. But like the selfish woman you are, you accepted it. Soaked in his affections greedily.

“You know, he asked me to never show Guwon around you guys.”

He sighed. “I knew he would.”

“Do you want that as well?

Silence followed but you heard his answer loud and clear.

The second date happened after the first leg of the tour in Seoul.

Although planned suddenly, you appreciated the downtime after being lost in the haze of rushed outfit changes, reapplying makeup, and patting sweat from foreheads. If anything, you were thankful you could loosen up after earlier. The awkward tension didn’t go amiss, it only took Namjoon and Yoongi one look between you and Jungkook before taking charge on how the night progresses.

Yoongi didn't waste any time waving you over to ask for help for his makeup, even when he was already being prepped by one of your older colleagues, Ji hae. Thankfully, the woman lets you take over, saying she wanted a snack anyways.

The man didn't bother asking you what happened and settled comfortably in his chair but not before offering you the snack he bought earlier and was laying neglected on his lap. Yoongi asked about Guwon in a hushed voice, because while you were living in a reverse harem with most of his brothers, he was genuinely curious about your boyfriend-to-be.

Maybe it was the fact he has never admitted his affections for you that made it comfortable to discuss topics you could never talk about with the others with him, but you let your tongue a little loose.

And he listened.

Yoongi has always been a man of action not words, his love language has always been opening water bottles, blankets appearing from nowhere when you're passed out on their couch, and listening attentively. Despite what the world says about his nonchalance and silence, in your eyes, he's the sweetest guy on the roster—not that you'd tell Jimin that of course, he'd riot if he were to find out.

By the end of the concert, Guwon asks you on an impromptu date. A simple late night walk on a market nearby because there's apparently a food fair, and as usual, the expenses are on him. Hungry with a principle of never turning down free food, of course you accepted.

Though you had a long time deciding whether to go or not with Jungkook’s confession still fresh.

Minutes later, he's waiting for you by the exit. The scene of him leaning on his Mercedes, waiting for you to reach him at the bottom of the stairs looks like it was pulled out of a kdrama.

Oddly enough, they didn’t question your lack of updates in the group chat but Jimin reached out later on and you suspect he told everyone your whereabouts instead, hopefully minus the date part to spare the others (read: Jungkook) from heartbreak.

The fair looked like a mirage of a paradise in the night hidden away in a small gently-lit up alley. The path was lightened up with gentle lanterns hung above you, the warm colors setting a more intimate scene. It wasn’t as luxurious as dinner from yesterday or as calming as the bike ride around the Han river but you appreciated it nonetheless.

You’re ready to drop dead but you pushed through, you wanted this relationship to work. Because then, maybe the monsters—your mother and her wide selection of personalities as well as aunties, her friends, trying to refer you to their horrible sons—haunting you from under your bed will finally leave you alone.

It was cruel that you’re using someone else to erase the memory of being professed to by one of your best friends.

Guwon was happy enough to take charge the whole date, leading you from food stall after food stall, ordering whatever your eyes lingered at which is half of what the fair offers. He understands your lack of responses as it is, tired from work, and talked enough for the both of you. Which you are grateful for.

He talked about his job and what happened that day, willingly telling you about the story of how he and his co-workers clicked back in College, never to part till now in the field they wanted. He spoke of his dreams, how he envisioned his dream home by the province surrounded by nature and the cat named Nabi waiting for him at home.

There's nothing more blatant of a signal than the last part, whether you accept it or not depends on you.

Normally, you would've frowned at the thought, immediately thinking of running away but as the night deepens and stalls start to close, the idea grows more and more tempting despite the logical voice in your head disagreeing. Seeking a distraction and possibly leading on a kind man is cruel, both to him and you.

But at the end of the day, it’s just an escape from the reality you're stuck in, a temporary answer to a long time problem.

How harmful can it be?

People had hookups before, you’ve had hookups before your mother has started a hunt for your husband this year so what are you so reluctant for?

If this man is to be your husband, you should check your physical compatibility right?

You shivered. God, you sounded like one of those shitty guys you’ve dated before.

"Hey, the stalls just closed. Are you fine with me driving you back to your house?"

His voice cuts through your deep thoughts and you turn to him. Even in the dimly lit corner of the alley, Guwon looked attractive as ever with his dimpled smile and laid back attitude, his soft eyes gleaming under the lanterns, affections overflowing from his gaze and you. shuddered from its weight.

Staring at the man, you wondered if you'd ever fall in love with him as he seemed right now.

Soon enough, you both arrive in front of your apartment building. However, not every plan goes through as you thought it'd go and you find two familiar figures rushing down to meet you.

Taehyung didn't hesitate to run up to you with open arms and a wide smile. He didn't even care that you both almost toppled over if it wasn't for Guwon hand supporting you from the back.

"Wh-why are you two here? Shouldn't you guys be resting?"

Jimin shrugged but you caught the mischievous glint in his eyes as a small smile tugs his lips. "Hyung got so worried and wanted us to make sure you got home safely."

"Even a thumbs up would be great but you ignored every text and call! Jin hyung panicked and sent us out, if you didn't come home, he would've had a huge manhunt for you." Taehyung chimed in, pulling away but keeping his hands on your shoulders as he stared deep into your eyes, as if trying to hypnotize you into believing them.

Jimin snickered. “Yoongi hyung was an hour away from declaring you missing so the good dongsaengs we are, we decided to camp outside your apartment.”

You would've accepted his explanation, it was logically sound yet the dark glint of mischief and something else in his eyes as his gaze bounced from you to Guwon told you a different story.

They've always had to interrupt your dates when it becomes sour but this was the first time they've confronted a potential partner outside the intentions of ruining a date because you wanted it to suck.

This was them laying their claim over their own, a silent statement. A declaration you try not to think so much about, fearing you'd dig yourself deep and fall to your death.

“These must be one of your kids?” Guwon asks from behind, reminding you of his presence and you turn to him with an apologetic look.

“Yeah, Taehyung and Jimin. I practically raised them.”

Jimin scoffs and your head snapped to him, widening your eyes in warning to which he ignored. “Just because you’re a year older, doesn’t mean you could say you raised us you know?”

“See what I deal with everyday?”

Guwon laughs lightheartedly before patting your head to get your attention. “Since your kids are here to protect you, I should get going now.”

“Drive safely.”

“See you soon?”

“Definitely.”

Then he placed a haste kiss on the edge of your lips, catching you off guard and you froze. Guwon was already in his car by the time you realized what happened and turned to chastise him. You couldn't even knock on the passenger window when the arms coiled around your shoulders tightened and tugged you close.

Letting Guwon kiss you in front of one of the men who confessed to you once was the first mistake, second was looking up at Taehyung whose hug is starting to hurt.

Gone were the usual giddiness and child-like enthusiasm that would pour from his eyes. It was replaced by a colder glare, almost blank and emotionless as it narrowed behind you and jaw locked tight. There was something primal in the way his hand behind your head was pushing you closer to him as if he was hounding over his game from another predator.

Goosebumps prickled your skin awake.

If butterflies exploded in your stomach and ignited a molten heat in your abdomen at that very moment, it's a secret you’d take to your grave.

“Tae?”

“Noona, I think we should head inside. It's getting cold.” Jimin’s sweet voice sounded forced and you resisted the urge to look at him.

While their reaction to being challenged is obvious, you couldn't, for the life of you, figure out why he should feel like that when he’s been seeing other people since his confession. From your past dates where he attended as one of your escape plans, he’s never expressed such an intense show of displeasure so you thought his fleeting crush had passed.

Until tonight.

When Taehyung pulled away, the traces of his hostility were gone and you had to double take at how vastly different he's appearing now. He has his lower lip pushed out into a pout, eyes wide with mirth as he reaches up to cup your cheeks, his warm palms heating your cold-nipped skin.

“Aigoo, you're so cold noona. Let's go in and binge that foreign show you've been following.”

With hands now intertwined, he leads you inside the building where Jimin was already standing inside and was holding the door open for you both. You were being tugged into your own home yet you couldn’t help but feel tense as Taehyung and Jimin welcomed you back in with the same dark look you saw earlier.

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ddarker-dreams · 11 months ago

Text

play wresting — gojo satoru.

(Warning for mild not sfw implications)

“So this is it, then? I’ve finally… finally been bested.”

From this vantage point, you tower over a certain melodramatic man, whose long limbs cover the king sized bed at awkward angles. His soft, snowy hair blends in with the stark white comforter. He tries lifting himself up, but his arms buckle from the exertion of such a physically demanding act. The feigned helplessness comes close to breaking your composure.

“Humor a dying man’s final request,” Gojo rasps. “Did you ever love me? Or were you just after the money and status all along?”

The term money and status reverberates in your head, taking you back to the rumors whispered behind closed doors by those opposed to your engagement. Gojo, being the person he is, delighted in playing into your supposed alternative motives whenever a ‘well-intentioned’ member of the more conservative factions tried tipping him off.

“Babe? Did you hear that?” He had called you over once, a hand to his chest, as if he’d learned the most scandalous news. “This man here said you’re only after my assets. Is this true? I thought for sure it was my devastatingly good looks and charm that won you over.”

(The face of the man in question went beet red over how loud Gojo spoke these words. Unsurprisingly, he slunk off at the earliest opportunity).

You try assuming your role as the indifferent black widow here, looking down your nose at him. “Nope. I’ve been biding my time all these years.”

You’re not sure what spurred him on to flex his acting muscles. When you entered the room, you were overcome with the urge to tackle him onto the bed. You’ve both loved roughhousing each other since you were in high school. Given the sheer, unfathomable extent of Gojo’s abilities, he was perfectly capable of dodging you or standing firm against your attempts. Alas, those two options must not have interested him.

And so he’s writhing in faux agony, putting on a show, as he is wont to do.

“Do I get any final requests?”

“Hm,” you hum, fighting how desperately your lips wish to curl into a smile, “That depends. What is it?”

Whatever he murmurs next is unintelligible.

Curious, you step forward, urging him to repeat himself. He does. Despite speaking slightly louder, the syllables and consonants blur together, spoken in such rapid succession that your brain can’t piece it together. You draw close enough for your knees to hit the side of the bed. Whatever he’s planning, this must be the grand finale.

This time, you understand him perfectly fine. You don’t know whether you should laugh or roll your eyes. Perhaps both.

“Let me hit it, just one more time,” Gojo says these words as if in actual pain, successfully melting your apathetic facade.

You can feel the satisfaction rolling off him in waves over the fact you broke first. Not willing to accept total defeat, you huff and pivot on your heels. You can feel his eyes boring into your back as you saunter toward the door. You answer the question that’s undoubtedly burning his tongue before he can speak it.

“Consider your request denied. I need to start searching for my next rich husband — time is of the essence.”

You gape as the once open door is now shut, faster than you could blink. In front of it is your apparently resuscitated Gojo Satoru, who acts as a human barricade. He extends his long arms out to ensure you’re not going anywhere. His grin is all teeth and his brilliant blue eyes gleam.

“Sorry babe, this rich husband’s still alive and kicking. Better luck next time.”

#an anon requested play wrestling with gojo and blade #but i love that concept so much i'll do a lil scenario for those currently in my Husband Rotation #starting with the white-haired menace #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #gojo brainrot #my stuff

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ddejavvu · 1 year ago

Note

Just something about james fingering reader for the first time and it being like mind blowing…

this post is 18+, minors dni.

Nothing, nothing has ever felt like James's fingers. You've only clumsily attempted to pleasure yourself before now, but James had licked and sucked at your neck, grated his clothed bulge against your own underwear, and pinched your nipples through your shirt with the same fingers that are pumping in and out of your cunt right now.

They're slick and you both see it, dripping with your arousal. You've never been this wet before; maybe that's why you've had no success in the past.

Your neck is craned down to watch as his fingers penetrate you, and he rubs a thumb at your clit that's never been this achy before.

"You're doing great," James croons, leaning forwards to kiss at your mouth even if you can't reciprocate, too transfixed on watching his fingers pump in and out of your cunt.

"James, it- it feels good, but-"

"But what, honey?" James lays off of your clit, cautious in his movements now. The strange swelling feeling you'd experienced only seconds before fades away, and your stomach clenches at its loss.

"It feels weird, like- like my stomach hurts."

"Are you sure it hurts?" James teases at your clit once more, and the feeling returns. He feels it in the way you clench around his fingers, and hears it in the soft moan you let out.

"There, it happens when I do that?" James speeds up his fingers a touch, pressing gently against your clit. The feeling intensifies, and for a moment you're worried you'll puke as its the only time your stomach has ever rolled like that. But you don't, you only nod.

"You're gonna cum, love." James informs you gently, setting a newer, faster rhythm that draws more of that feeling out of you, "It's okay, that's what's supposed to happen. Relax, ease up." He smooths his free hand over your thighs, and you try un-tensing the muscles there, "Let it happen, darling, you'll like it."

"Okay," You whimper, still cautious to let the new feeling take over, even though you trust James's judgement. You know you're supposed to cum, but you've never done it before, and you don't know if you're doing it right.

"Does it feel good?" James asks, fingers pumping faster than ever as your arousal drips from his skin. It's obscene, and the hand that he uses to ghost over your perked nipples only makes the feeling more intense.

"Yeah- Yeah, James it feels really- really good! James," You gasp, feeling a wave rise within your core and wash over your underbelly, "James- I- Aah!'

"I know," He pinches gently at your tit, leaning in to press his lips to yours and lick soothingly over the bottom one that you've been gnawing at. He murmurs into your mouth, hot and heavy, "I know, honey, go ahead, let go, okay?"

Your cunt spasms around James's hand but he never ceases his movements, keeping his fingers moving steadily, though he decreases their speed the less you writhe at his touch. His thumb that's been rolling steady pressure over your clit slowly detaches, alleviating the force that would drive you into overstimulation.

You're panting into his mouth now, not the most coordinated kisser but he doesn't care. He's as comforting with his kisses as he is with his hands, and he brings you down from your high with soft, sweet touches.

"Are you okay?" He asks, soulful brown eyes boring into your own.

"Yeah," You breathe, nodding and squirming at the slight thrumming sensation that's still stinging your cunt, "Yeah, James, that was- that was good."

"Good," He beams, smile somehow containing the brightest, purest love even when he sticks his sticky fingers between his lips to suck them clean.

"James, that's- don't." You frown, pulling at his wrist.

He frowns dejectedly when you take his hand out from his mouth, "Darling, why? I want to taste you."

"James!" You flush at the cheeks, the warmth spreading down your neck, "That's- no, that's gross!"

"Sweetheart," He looks at you with something close to pity in his eyes, unsure if you're innocent or just self-deprecating. He likes to prefer the former, not sure what he'd do if you thought you were gross, and he slips his fingers back into his mouth despite your protests.

"That's normal, love." He informs you, tongue tasting like your release, "C'mere."

He pulls you into an open-mouthed kiss with no hesitation, murmuring as his tongue brushes yours, "Mmf- tastes good, love. You taste delicious."

#james potter x reader #james potter imagine #james potter scenario #james potter oneshot #james potter one shot #james potter one-shot #james potter headcanon #james potter headcanons #james potter hc #james potter hcs #james potter fanfiction #james potter fanfic #james potter fic #james potter blurb #james potter drabble #james potter dialogue #james potter fluff #james potter x reader fanfiction #james potter smut

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capsi-cuminme · 2 months ago

Text

Closer, Closest

summary: in which you've just joined the x-men, but land up in a situation where you're forced to get very close with logan.

pairing: logan howlett x fem!reader

word count: 4.4k

warnings: mild swearing, suggestiveness, smooching omg

author's note: This is my first ever logan fic, and my first overall full-length fic after a loooong time, so it'll probably be a bit botchy, but I hope y'all enjoy the self-indulgent logan content.

•──✦──•

Logan was not in the mood for surprises, or uncomfortable change. He’d had enough of very major, very uncomfortable changes in the past month or so - changing history wasn’t easy. So imagine his distaste when he got to the mansion after a seemingly easy mission the kids somehow managed to mess up, and instead of Jean, there was someone else that’s supposed to treat him - you.

A new recruit, he guessed. Brows furrowed, face covered with a cheap surgical mask, but eyes full of wonder, you were doing this and that to Logan’s few, easily-healable injuries, attempting to fix them. Your fingers were nimble, and shockingly not ticklish at all. He wondered if you knew you didn’t need to do half of what you were doing, considering the speeds at which Logan’s body tended to heal itself. Had Charles not told you? Well, whatever. He was too occupied with his cigar to want to speak anyways, so he waited. Waited and waited and kept on waiting for what seemed like forever but you weren’t letting up.

“Bub, are you creating new injuries to treat? I know sure as hell that it doesn’t take that long to look at any wounds on my body,” he grumbled, sparing you a glance as you continued to do whatever the hell you were doing, paying no mind to him or his questions. Your eyes were focused as they flitted around, jumping from one spot on his arm to another on his wrist to a third on his neck. It caught him off-guard, a tiny bit, the blatant indifference you displayed - as if he wasn’t an adult whose body you were tampering with, but a child who had to be dealt with. He didn’t really like it. Nonetheless, he decided not to do anything. It was better to pass time on the bed and smoke peacefully rather than have to teach children History that he could barely remember.

Mind made up, he closed his eyes in relief, mentally applauding himself for successfully coming up with a reason to get out of class. When he opened them again, you were gone.

So was all the strength in his body.

. . . . .

“So, what did you think? Was healing him of any help to you?” asked Charles, smiling in the controlled, calm way he usually did.

You shook your head, “Not really, no, because I didn’t really heal him, you know?”

“Of course, you didn’t heal him; Logan’s body is capable enough to do that on its own means. What I mean to ask is, was he any different? Were you able to access his energy or were you unsuccessful?”

“Semi-successful would be the word, professor,” you grimaced. Taking the cup of tea he offered, you continued, “I was really not able to make any sort of progress when he was awake, so when he rested himself, I decided to drain him out comple -”

You were interrupted by the sudden bang of a door opening. As you turned around, you saw Logan standing in the doorway in all his muscled glory. God, it’d been so difficult to focus on extracting his energy and not ogle all the time he was there - being able to treat the Wolverine, being able to touch him, it was no less than a dream. Honestly speaking, half the reason you weren’t able to carry out energy identification and extraction easily was because of how distracted you were, how nervous. His muscles felt like God herself had carved them out of her best and favorite materials, while the intensity of his gaze seemed like fire itself burned inside them.

Your lust-filled train of thought was broken by Charles’s voice as he addressed the man you were dreaming about. As you turned to him, you realized that Logan was glaring at you, excellently conveying his lack of desire to be dreamt about. “Hello, Logan. How are you?”

“Who the hell is this, Charles? Why was she downstairs instead of Jean, and why the fuck did I feel like a dead body after she left?”

Oh.

Dream shattered.

You stood up hesitantly, nibbling on the inside of your right cheek, glancing at Charles for help. He didn’t return your look, simply straightening himself a little bit and then saying, “Logan, this is Vitality. She’s a new recruit, and will be helping around the mansion for some time before she’s ready to go on missions.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, lips pulled back in a sneer as he observed you. You felt practically naked under his gaze, and not in the good way; it was the kind of naked where there’s goosebumps on your skin right as you’re about to step into a shower of extremely cold water in a comparably cold temperature.

“Whatever she might be here for and whoever she might be, I couldn’t give less of a damn. I just want one answer – why did I feel so… so -” “So drained out?” you sheepishly suggested, noting his struggle to find the correct words. He didn’t look like he appreciated it, but nodded to the affirmative anyways. “Well, that’s because, as my name suggests, I deal with energy – any and all forms of energy, except what is found in living beings.”

“So what were you doing to me?”

You found yourself cringing at his words. “I wasn’t doing anything to you, Mr Logan, sir, I was experimenting with your energy. Remember how I said I deal with all energy except that of living beings? That’s because I can’t control my abilities well enough to not hurt living being if I tamper with their energy.” You stopped. You didn’t know how to continue explaining without possibly offending him.

“So, Logan,” picked up Charles, “since you’re someone who is beyond the risk of death, I asked her to try controlling your energy. It was supposed to be easier, more… convenient.”

Logan’s face had relaxed a bit, but he still looked confused and glanced at you for further explanation.

“Yeah well, in short, you don’t die and recover quickly and also have a lot of energy so you were the ideal candidate for me to practice on, but unfortunately I failed and ended up draining out all your physical energy for a short period of time,” you finished with a sorry expression your face, silently apologising.

“Why didn’t you tell me, professor?”

“Simply because you’d have spent more time asking where Jean is than actually helping in the experiment. Now,” he said, with an air of finality and dismissal, “if you’ll please leave, so that we can continue our conversation.”

You silently thanked the professor, moving to sit back down. Yeah, you had, like, a bit of a celebrity crush on him or whatever. So what? He was still intimidating and made you want to run out of the room (not before staring at him a little more). As you turned back to the professor, you were grateful the interaction with the legendary mutant was over, but you were also curious about something. Something that’d been mentioned throughout the conversation two to three times, and you felt like you’d already had enough of hearing.

Who the hell was - “Jean. Where is she though, professor? Haven’t seen her since yesterday.”

You swallowed, taken aback a little bit. Someone seemed to care about this Jean a lot. No one had told you the Wolverine had his heart set on some woman whose face you don’t even know.

Well, whatever.

“Jean’s on a mission with Scott. Now if you’ll excuse us, Logan?”

The aforementioned man grumbled something, then left after a quick, “Right, sorry.”

“I think we can resume our conversation now, no?” asked Charles, sipping a cup of tea, looking at you with a smile. Right as you started to nod, he said, “And oh, don’t worry – you’ll meet soon enough.”

Oh God, he can read thoughts. How stupid can you be?

Your embarrassment was only damped down by the mischievous twinkle in Charles’s eye and his swiftness to steer the topic of the conversation back to what it was.

. . . . .

It had been a month since you were here. A month filled with practicing extraction and infusion of energy relentlessly, all while trying to make at least a few bare-minimum acquaintances with your colleagues and the children you’re supposed to teach.

In some fields, you’d been making progress. Under Charles’s skilled eye, your abilities were sharpening quickly. Storm’s powers were similar to yours, so she would sometimes come and keep you company, sparring, chatting, lingering around. She was fun to be with – a good leader, but an even better friend. She was just the person you needed at this infantile stage of your journey to become an X-man. (X-woman? Whatever.) You’d even started teaching some of the younger kids, and they all seemed to be liking you, more or less.

There was also the not-great part.

Namely, Jean and Logan.

See, you knew you hadn’t started off on the best foot with Logan, seeing how you’d non-consensually (accidentally) drained him of his body’s physical energy for like ten or fifteen minutes, and so obviously it’d take some time for him to grow comfortable around you. Fair enough.

What wasn’t fair, on the other hand, was the fact that Logan was either in his room, or on missions, or teaching, or with Jean. Not-single, in-a-relationship-with-Scott, Jean. (Yes, you had noticed they were dating thank you very much.)

The person whose energy you were physically unable to be around, that Jean.

It seemed a cruel trick by fate.

You’d had a crush on him since forever, ever since you’d first seen him protecting kids on the news, and it wasn’t as if you wanted to fuck him or anything, no! (Although you wouldn’t be opposed to that.) But would it be wrong to want to be at least on talking terms with him? Apparently, yes. So you decided to just suck it up and carry on with your work. That’s what you were here for, that’s what you’d do; to hell with anyone who was a distraction to you.

. . . . .

Holy shit, working with these people was so difficult. It wasn’t the constant fights waiting to happen or powers waiting to erupt. It wasn’t even the fact that all this newfound energy around you, all the damn time, unsettled you heavily. No, you could get used to that.

It was their utter refusal to cooperate that was posing to be a bit of an issue.

You had asked Charles to lend you, for lack of better terms, a few mutants different to each other in terms of their abilities, so that you could practice.

So you had in front of you, the entire team – how were you supposed to not die of nervousness?

“Alright then, shall we begin? Any of you can step up first, whoever’s more comfortable,” Charles remarked quietly, observing from the sidelines the slight tremor in your arms and legs, coupled with the apprehension visible on the team’s faces. It’s a given, of course, the existence of the overall tone of nervousness. The team doesn’t know you too well, hasn’t known you for long, not even Storm.

You nod in response to Charles, signalling that you’re ready. For a beat or two, no one comes up. You stare at them, waiting; the moment you think Storm might step up, Logan strides forward and seats himself on the chair in front of you. You blink at him a couple times, not really expecting him to come up and offer himself for – for lack of a better word - experimentation so calmly when only a while ago he’d had a bad experience regarding the same thing?

Oh, well. It was a good thing, all things considered. You got someone to practice on, and it just so happened to be the person you’ve had the meanest fattest crush on forever. Works out perfectly.

So, on Charles’s cue and under the watchful eyes of all the X-men, “Logan, please close your eyes for a little bit.” As soon as he did, you started. You weren’t really trying to extract or infuse copious amounts of energy, just weeding out the bits of excessive power, that’s all.

But even though it seemed a small task, it had rendered you on your knees in only a few minutes, because a) energy extraction in living, sentient beings was not easy, b) it had only been your first or second time trying it and you were being extra careful, and c) Jean’s energy, constantly at odds with her own self, was distracting you more than you’d like. And you were concentrating, really, you were, but Kitty, apparently, was not, as she fell through the roof and on to the ground a couple of feet away from you. Her fall distracted all your momentarily built focus onto her instead, as you lost the thread of energy you had been constantly pulling out. The thread turned into a pool of energy before you realised.

You looked up into Logan’s eyes – yours were probably more fearful than his, but you still tried to give him some sort of reassurance. You could observe how quickly you were sucking up his energy; his skin was paling in an unnatural way, eyes drooping, but you didn’t know what to do. You’d learnt how to extract, infuse, and return the energy back. You couldn’t just skip the middle step, you didn’t know how. As you were scrambling to figure out a solution, a voice rang out in your head.

“Calm down. Think. The solution is what comes naturally.”

Naturally? What comes naturally?

Oh, right – your own energy. You could just infuse his energy with the tiniest bit of yours, and it’d work (most probably), so that’s what you did. You kept infusing and returning and repeating, but the amount of energy that had pooled out was so much that you were practically a cadaver by the time you were done sending it back.

“Are you okay?” you questioned softly, looking into the eyes of the man seated before you. You couldn’t muster your voice to be louder, so you hoped that your whispers and desperation were enough to convey to Logan what you were asking.

Tilting his head just a bit, he nodded, looking increasingly renewed and full of energy. You breathed a sigh of relief, finally stopping the influx of energy into his body and standing up.

The task had taken an unprecedented toll on you, what with the unexpected amount of work. So of course, the blood seeping out of your nose and ears wasn’t a surprise, nor was you fainting, unceremoniously falling to the ground right as a pair of arms gripped you.

. . . . .

When you woke up, you could make out several things right off the bat, without even fully coming to your senses - there were bunched up sheets digging into your back as your throat felt parched and scratchy. Needles pricked into your hands, slowly supplying glucose into your system, drip-by-drip. The air conditioning was making an unruly amount of noise. In the corner of the room, Logan sat on a stool, watching you with keen but tired eyes.

“You finally up, Bub?”

It took you a second to register he was speaking to you. The movement of his lips seemed a bit unfamiliar. “Uh, y-yes. I’m up now. Awake.”

“You feel fine now? Because you definitely don’t look the part,” he asked-or-said with the slightest smirk. At your consequent nod, he continued. “You looked the spitting image of a dead body when you fainted, ya’know? Had all of us scared, me especially, considering your decision to give me your energy or whatever.”

You tilt your head, confused. How did he know? “Did the professor tell you?”

“Damn right he did,” he drawled, getting up from the stool and walking to your bed.

You wished the slight increase in heart rate would go unnoticed. Just because you weren’t fully able to register your surroundings and connect the dots of what might’ve happened when you fainted, didn’t mean that you were also unable to register the veins in his arms as he folded them over his chest. God, that damn wifebeater of his -

“Hey, you alright?” As your eyes lifted up from his chest and arms to his face, you realised he looked sort of concerned. For you.

“Uh-huh. I’m good.” He nodded to himself, “Alright then. I’ll go tell the professor that you’ve woken up. You take some rest, okay? Don’t move from here.” With a quick dip of his chin, he turned, walking to the exit. Right as he was about to reach, you called out for him.

“Hey, Logan? Thanks for being here and keeping an eye on me.”

“Wasn’t even here that long, but don’t mention it.” You were sure you saw the ghost of a smile on his face before he left.

You were also certain that the sudden increase in heart rate did not go unnoticed by him, heightened senses and all. You hid your face in your palms, screaming silently.

. . . . .

After that day, things with Logan improved, however slight the improvement may have been. You’d gotten into a habit of greeting each other if you crossed each other in the halls and corridors, and if, by chance, both of you ended up at the breakfast table together then you’d have breakfast together too.

Did you still absolutely lose your mind over him whenever you saw him walking around wearing literally whatever? Yes. But there was also a sense of newfound respect you developed for him as you watched him work and train students. You and he often had to substitute classes, so you’d understood his manner of work and training. As rough around the edges as he seemed, he was still a very soft-hearted person, never going overboard on any of the children and apologizing immediately if he thought he did.

You were learning loads while working with him, and had to thank Professor X for that. So imagine your surprise when Charles called you into his office one day, and said “Congratulations, Vitality. You’re ready for your first mission, on which Logan will be accompanying you. He and Storm already know what is to be done, they’ll brief you. Now if you don’t mind, I have a class to take.” And with those words and a tiny smile, Charles sent you out of his office to embark on your first mission.

Your first mission, with Logan.

Oh God. You could absolutely scream.

Was this some kind of joke? How the fuck were you supposed to carry out such a nerve-wracking task with the most gorgeous man on the planet? Yeah you’d grown sort of comfortable around him, but not if you two were supposed to go to some remote place alone on the jet.

“Vitality?”

You turned as Storm called you, Logan lazily walking right behind her. “Yes, what is it?”

“Did Charles inform you of the mission?” “Yes he did, but I don’t really know the details.”

“It’s alright,” she assured, “just get ready to board the plane, Logan will explain everything to you on the way.”

. . . . .

The mission was simple. No fighting, just stealing. You had to go to some abandoned factory and take five vials of green-colored serum out of lots of multi-colored vials of serum. You’d asked what the serum was for, but Logan didn’t seem to know the answer himself, so you decided to drop it.

As you sat in your seat, belted in and anxious, you watched Logan. He was sitting beside you, curiously looking at the jet’s controls the same way a baby regards new toys. It was kind of cute. And also very distracting, because Logan looked very good in his uniform; you hadn’t ever seen him wear it before this, so seeing him in it was doing things to you.

“Have I got something on my face?”

You flinched, surprised at being called out. Refocusing your gaze, you were met with Logan looking at you with a crooked half-smile. “You were staring pretty hard there. Do I look that good in the uniform?”

You resisted the urge to maniacally nod your head and instead settled for a meek apology. “S-sorry,” you squeaked out, more breathlessly than you’d like.

“It’s alright, I don’t mind. Just didn’t think you’d be into old men like me, is all,” he remarked gruffly.

“Old?”

“Yes bub, old. ‘Ve been around for a good couple of centuries.”

Your eyes almost bulged out of their sockets. Sure, he aged slowly, but 200 years? You never knew. Before you could continue the conversation, the jet landed in the middle of the clearing.

Both of you silently made your way inside the factory, no words exchanged, just vigilant gazes keeping check of everything around you. But even though there was no threat - nothing tangible, at least - you felt on edge. You were sensing a mixture of otherworldly and downright disturbing energies from various places within the factory, so when you finally reached the room with the vials, you couldn’t have been more thankful.

With a silent look of understanding, Logan went in and retrieved the box containing the vials you needed. Mission complete.

But as you guys were walking out, you bumped into one of the racks and another vial - deep purple - fell and broke right onto your shoulder. Logan turned to you with alarmed eyes. “What the hell? You’re not hurt, are you? Does it burn or something?” You quelled his worries and insisted to keep moving. After all, it didn’t burn your skin, nor did it harm you in any physically visible way, and it was an obvious assumption that the leak of energy from your body could be addressed in the jet.

Unfortunately, you were incorrect. Despite going to the jet even faster than you guys had made it out, significant amounts of energy had started seeping out of you.

Gasping, you said, “The serum probably had something to do with capability retention, that- that’s why I’m not able to maintain control.” You plonked down onto the jet’s floor, uncaring of the way the machinery around you rattled.

Logan hurried to you, cradling your head and making you look him in the eyes. “What d’ya need, bub, huh? Tell me, tell me.” “Energy.”

He frowned deeply, confused. “Energy? Yours?”

Your eyes had begun rolling to the back of your head; you were about to pass out. Shaking your head aggressively, you clarified, “No, no, just- any energy works.”

Logan couldn’t understand. How was he supposed to give you energy, when yours was slipping away so fast? His lack of comprehension was annoying you. You whined, pulling him closer, hugging him completely.

Skin-to-skin contact, the best way to get energy.

As you basically situated yourself in his lap and hugged him like a koala in an attempt to gain back some kind of energy, your half-coherent brain could not register the rigidity of Logan’s body for the first couple of seconds, instead misinterpreting it as refusal to help.

“Logan, please, I need you,” you borderline sobbed, shifting in his lap to make yourself comfortable, nuzzling yourself in your neck.

“W-wait a second,” Logan said shortly, trying to comprehend what was happening. He could see that the energy leaks were decreasing, but God. This was uncomfortable in ways that weren’t exactly bad; it plagued him with guilt.

Oblivious to the workings of his mind and delirious due to the serum, you grabbed onto his arms, wrapping them around your waist, trying to get even closer. Tsk-ing, “Why can’t I get close enough?”

“Darlin’,” Logan mumbled, voice a couple of octaves lower and blood rushing south, “calm down. ‘M right here, you’ll be j’s fine, promise.” He rubbed soothing circles into your back, attempting to placate your restlessness.

You lifted your face from the scruffiness of his neck, pouting as you looked up into his eyes. “Please Logan, this isn’t enough.” And God, he could not resist that face and that expression and that goddamned voice of yours, dripping with sticky-sweet honey and whining. So like any sane man, he did the only thing he could to get you both closer.

He grabbed a hold of your jaw semi-gently, making you look up at him. Once your eyes were finally focused enough, he leaned up to press his lips into yours. The kiss wasn’t exactly supposed to be chaste, but with the speed you opened your mouth and demanded entry into his with your tongue caught him just a tiny bit off-guard.

He pulled back, watching you gasp for air. “This close enough for you?”

You shook your head, shifting yourself further and attaching your mouth to his, determined to get the closest you could.

. . . . .

As you once again regained your senses on the infirmary bed, you could make out several things right off the bat - there were bunched up sheets digging into your back as your throat felt parched and scratchy. Needles pricked into your hands, slowly supplying glucose into your system, drip-by-drip. The air conditioning was still making an unruly amount of noise.

And of course, in the corner of the room, Logan sat on a stool, watching you with keen eyes. “You alright there, darlin’?”

You gulped, your throat feeling like the Sahara desert was in there. You’d damn well have spontaneously combusted hearing him call you ‘darling’, only you hadn’t forgotten what you’d done in the jet a couple days ago.

“I-I’m good, Logan. Are you okay?”

He smiled. “Never been better.”

You exhaled shortly. “Good, tha-that’s great.”

“Sure is.”

You tried to breathe quietly. You felt you breathed too loud. Especially in a room with Logan.

You were nervous.

“You like Italian?”

Looking up, you were met with the sight of Logan, fiddling with his jeans pocket. Cute. “Sorry?”

“D’you like Italian, bub?”

“I guess, yeah.”

“Great. Wanna try that new Italian place in the city? Scott wouldn’t shut up about it.”

“Sure, yes. I’d love to,” you said, biting the inside of your cheek, trying to contain your smile.

“Right. It’s a date then, love.”

262 notes · View notes

lilacgaby · 2 months ago

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return to main menu?

- bakugo katsuki

"what are we?" "...nothing. right?"

convienence. a means to end. that's all this was for both of you right? when katsuki is fed up with the crazed fangirls who just won't leave him alone, he works out a deal with you. it was just coincidence he had a huge crush on you.

to kiss or kill.. a vampire?

you've been a vampire for as long as you can remember. you were going through your day, or night, routine as normal when a noise startles you. a man, katsuki bakugo to be exactly, was standing at your door. though, he can't seem to rember whether he's supposed to kill or kiss you...

I've changed, won't you see?

summary: katsuki ruined your life when you were small, giving you a life altering injury, though getting nothing more than a pat on the back. throughout his successes he can't get you out of his mind, so he sets out to make amends with you.

running out of time, to make you love me.

THE PRINCE'S BALL was to be had on his 18th birthday. the week before, you realize the feelings you have harbored over the years for him. little did you know you were both fighting against the time restraint placed on him.

die for you.

after an attempt on your life, the royal family turns to promising young blood, hoping to find someone to protect you. katsuki was chosen and ended up dedicating himself to you in a way even he never predicted.

excuses, excuses

katsuki had left you, overwhelmed by the situation you two were now tied to. now, when he finally reaches his dreams, he realizes victory doesn't taste as sweet without you.

my first, my last, my everything.

summary: katsuki left that life behind for you. but when the life you two built from scratch together was threatened, what else could he do but go back?

my last, my everything.

ride or die

you'd been partnered up with the hotheaded speed racer, katsuki. who knew he'd end up more interested in you then the races he'd win?

crayons and connections

after a harsh relationship he really didn't want another try at romance for a while. at least, not until he hired you. he thought he loved the way you cared for his kids, but you both knew it was something more.

*truth bomb! (f,h)

in which a lovesick girl is hit by a truth telling quirk that lasts 7 days.

*serenity (f)

in which a longtime fanboy meets his anime crush in his world.

entranced (f)

through all stages of his life, katsuki was entranced with you.

save me

katsuki has always saved you, his princess.

saved.

awakened

you've been asleep all this time, who knew a barbarian would be the one to awaken you?

death is inevitable, but why you?

summary: each boy has to live through their horrors, the horror of losing you.

fairy tale.

summary: katsuki's life had been flipped onto its head, who knew some pixie dust was all he needed?

iced out.

"he'll need an ice pack when i'm done with him."

fantasy au's:

dragonking!bkg 2

dragonking!bkg x tinkerbell!reader

barbarian!bakugo 2 3 4

prohero! au:

prohero!bkg 2 3 4

interview but he's down bad 2

preschool!teacher reader

kidnapped!reader

domestic au:

4:25 a.m

family errand running

interview with his daughter

6:21 a.m

mini you.

girldad!katsuki

nanny!reader

random drabbles:

mini me

katsuki thinks it's cute how you adopt his habits, calling you his mini-me.

he's a scaredy-cat.

is he proposing or...?

childhoodfriends

shy!reader

back kissing him</3

nerd!bakugo

physical touch

muscle-kisses

boyfriend!bakugo

only shy to him

racer!katsuki

comfort

the one who got away..

hypotheticals

drawing him

drawing on his hands

makeup on him

-todoroki shoto

*marry me! (f)

in which a royal prince and a witch get married to dethrone the king.

death is inevitable, but why you?

summary: each boy has to live through their horrors, the horror of losing you.

random drabbles:

is he proposing or...?

-tamaki amajiki

random drabbles:

shy!reader 2

sfw alphabet

timeskip!tamaki

period comfort

-kirishima eijiro

lucky me.

you always seemed to attract bad luck, yet you think your life might be turning around as you reconnect with light itself.

random drabbles:

is he proposing or...?

-midoriya izuku

death is inevitable, but why you?

summary: each boy has to live through their horrors, the horror of losing you.

random drabbles:

is he proposing or..?

-denki kaminari

random drabbles:

is he proposing or...?

-neito monoma

random drabbles:

shy!reader

-hitoshi shinsou

i'll love you, even from afar.

random drabbles:

period comfort

-touya todoroki (dabi)

better 4 u

summary: touya didn't deserve you, he knew there was someone out there better for you.

#bakugo #bakugo x reader #mha x reader #mha bakugou #my works✧ミ★#bnha #shoto todoroki x reader #shoto x reader #todoroki x reader #shoto todoroki

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lasciviouspoison · 1 year ago

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omg! my boyfriend is a big sexy boxer!

oh em gee, happy kinktobaaaaaa!!!!!! lmfao, here’s a small gift from me :)

i got kinda carried away with this plot line, lol. tw: tojixchubby!reader, boxer!toji, implied black/poc!reader, implied age gap (reader in early 20s, toji late 20s/early 30s), afab reader, oral sex (f receiving), pussydrunk!toji, cockdrunk!reader, hints of self insert (sorry :/ ) and anything else i might’ve forgotten! love ya, mwah!

~~~

toji fushiguro was one of the best heavyweight boxers of the current day. he was agile, extremely strong, and never lacked in stamina. he was a staggering 6’3 and was over 250 pounds of pure muscle. littered in tattoos from head to toe, toji was a force to be reckoned with.

not to mention, he was hot as fuck. almost every hour on the hour, there was someone on the internet raving about how sexy he was. he had literally gotten invited to read dirty tweets not once, but twice because of the general influx of them.

however, no one other than those closest to toji knew about you.

you, the pretty journalist who he had seen at his first press release for the upcoming fight. he was taken aback by your casualness. while the majority your peers wore ugly suits and skirts, you were simply dressed in baggy jeans and a t-shirt. your curly hair was down, slightly touching your shoulder blades and he could see the tattoos you had up your arm and neck.

toji’s mouth watered at the sight of you. he couldn’t wait for the moment in which you raised your hand to ask him a question out of those pretty pouty lips.

after the release, he made it a point to ask his manager, shiu, to call you into the back for an “exclusive interview” with the most successful fighter on the block.

and by interview, i mean toji asked you for your number and you, albeit anxiously, agreed.

and four months later, he’s been stuck to you like glue. he’s taken you on so many dates, he always pops in to see you whenever he has the time after training, and he just recently popped the question, asking you to officially be his partner.

however, toji also does the best he can to not prematurely intertwine his life with yours.

you were still a college student, finally making your way to the end of your junior year. your life was slow and steady, yet exciting. you had a few great friends who supported you through everything, yet, they still knew nothing about your little rendezvous with toji.

meanwhile, everything was about to change at toji’s most recent weigh-in. after his opponent and himself stepped on the scale, the promoters decided it would be a good idea to bring the two back out and open the floor for questions.

of course you were in the crowd, not only to support your man, which felt amazing to finally say, but to watch and learn from your mentor. however, to everyone’s surprise, toji’s opponent had an announcement to make before the questions began.

he stood up and gave the crowd and smile before pointing directly at you, “everyone see that beautiful lady right there? i’m gonna beat the shit outta this man over here and take her home with me afterwards. ya like the sound of that sweetheart?”

toji’s eyes immediately found yours and once he seen them begin to gloss over, he couldn’t help but find himself running out of his chair, attempting to prematurely pummel his opponent. while both security teams tried to hold him back, you were being escorted out of the area and into the back rooms.

shortly after, your face was all over media outlets as they attempted to figure out who you were and your association to toji.

which brings us to now.

“baby please, talk to me. m’beggin here”. toji’s been standing outside of his master bathroom for a total of 20 minutes attempting to get you to at least calm down. you had been crying since the weigh-in, refusing to see him. the only reason you were here was because shiu redirected your driver back to toji’s home without your knowledge.

“go away! go get ready for your fight and leave me alone!” you could admit you sounded childish, but you didn’t care. it was one thing to be publicly embarrassed like that, but to now have the whole world know that you were somehow connected to toji was awful. you wanted to do that on your own terms, especially since the two of you are just barely reaching the “official” stage in your relationship.

toji grabbed the locked door knob and twisted, “yn please just come out and talk to me. lemme help you, baby, please.” while toji prided himself on never begging for anything, you were an exception to the rule.

suddenly the door swung open and he was met with your puffy red eyes and lips. despite knowing the weight of the situation, he couldn’t help but feel his dick twitch upon seeing how beautiful you looked after crying. he’d be sure to tell you that later.

“there’s nothing you can do. everyone’s gonna figure out i’m your girlfriend and my life is gonna be turned upside down”. you could feel your throat begin to constrict once again. all you wanted was to crawl into a hole and never come back up.

toji stroked your hair and brought you to his chest, “i can’t make that go away baby, and i’m sorry. but what i can do is try to make this as seamless as possible for you. things don’t have to change overnight, we can still go slow”.

he could feel you shake your head, “it’s not gonna work like that toji, you and i both know that. my fucking mom has already called me to ask about us and i don’t know what to tell her.”

toji cocked his head to the side and scrunched his brows, “tell her we’re together?”

you pushed him back and little and laughed, “oh my god toji, are you fucking dense? you’re missing the point.”

he wanted to kick himself for being so careless. obviously toji knew that the situation ran deeper than the two of you simply dating. but, he at least figured that you wouldn’t be scared to tell your mom.

alas, he was wrong.

toji took a deep breath, “don’t cuss at me when i haven’t cussed at you. i’m trying to help and you’re throwing a tantrum. the situation isn’t fair to either of us yn, and we both know it.”

you gave him one more good look before you took a step back into the bathroom and slammed the door in his face.

~~~

the fight was in 20 minutes and toji’s heart was pounding. his adrenaline was rushing throughout his body and all he could think of was your crying face and what that ugly fucker said to you earlier.

in every sense of the word, he was pissed.

he had left you back in the hands of your mentor, granting the two of you front row seats. although you could feel everyone’s eyes staring at the back of your head, you held your composure.

you could feel your mentor squeeze your hand, “i know it’s not my place, but don’t beat yourself up over what happened earlier yn, especially if you’re happy. if the two of you are together, just leave it at that. you don’t have to explain yourself to anyone, i promise.”

you reached over and gave her a hug, letting yourself finally feel the embrace of someone who cared about you. however, the sweet moment was interrupted when the announcer came out to introduce toji’s opponent.

you felt like a fish being gutted while watching him walk down the isle. his entourage behind him, making him look even weaker than he was. and the most disgusting part was him catching your eye after bouncing around the stage and winking.

toji swore he was gonna kill him. he was gonna rip his gloves off with his teeth and jam his thumbs into his eyes. taunting him was different, it was part of the sport. but making a show out of his lady was something that toji was gonna lay his ass out for.

everyone watched as the announcer made his way back into the middle of the ring and grabbed the microphone to speak once more, “ladies and gentleman! please give it up for your reigning heavyweight champion, toji fushiguro!”

the screams from the crowd jolted your body awake, firing your adrenaline on all cylinders. it was at this moment when you realized you were dating toji-fucking -fushiguro and you weren’t gonna let his scum of an opponent make you feel any less because of it.

when toji got to the ring, he removed his robe and only glared at his opponent. it was scarier than seeing him move around with the crowd because to the three of you, this was way more than a fight.

you don’t know what caused you to do it, but you walked up to the ring and called out his name. he started to squat down to speak to you, but instead watched you climbed inside to stand before him. he could see that you had your hands bawled up beside your hips and he laughed a little.

you looked at his opponent and back at him. finally, you slung your arm around him and pulled him in to where only he could hear you, “put his ass to sleep for me toji” and with a kiss to his cheek, you made your descent out of the ring.

suddenly toji was ablaze. in an instant, he transformed from his regular, stern self to the fighter, entertainer, and winner. everyone that could see him on the Jumbotron and television could see that whatever you had said to him was gonna determine the fate of this match.

~~~

2 rounds, 4 minutes and 29 seconds was all it took for toji to lay his opponent out flat. he didn’t need confirmation from the referee before he spit out his mouth guard and roared at the crowd. he could see you standing there in awe at him and it was the cutest thing he had ever seen.

eventually, toji was allowed to say his peace before existing the ring and of course, the world waited at the edge of their seats for the update on what was seen earlier.

toji couldn’t even think straight when it came time for him to talk. the only thing on his mind was you. ynynynyn was all that kept replaying in his mind before he said this, “i want the entire fucking world to know that she’s my girl. she’s been mine since i first seen her and i wouldn’t want it any other way. baby, i love you.”

by this point, you were backstage with his team watching his commentary on a flatscreen. all you wanted to do was wrap your arms around him, but that would have to wait a little longer.

finally, toji walked into the back room, fully changed out of his fighting clothes, and all but stalked his way to you. he embraced you so tightly, you felt like he could snap you in half.

you pulled away from him and and pecked his cheek, “you love me toji?”.

he shook his head, “since the day i met you.”

and while tears were beginning to well in your eyes, toji was throwing you over his shoulder and heading towards his car. with the shouts of his team behind him, the only thing on his mind was getting you home and fucking you till you cried.

he sped home in dangerous silence, alternating from his hand gently squeezing your thigh to slightly rubbing this thumb up as high as you’d allow.

he didn’t even bother to park correctly before he flung his door open. toji sprinted to your side and lifted you out. you could hear his heavy breathing as he traveled through his penthouse lobby and into the elevator.

he body caged you in and his breath fanned your nose. “don’t mean to be rough. hope i’m not scarin ya” he chuckled out.

“no baby. you’re not scaring me at all.” he was, in fact, doing the opposite. you were so turned on, you hoped it wasn’t leaking through your jeans.

toji gripped your face and kissed you roughly. it was much different from the small kisses you shared, but neither of you cared. before separating for air, he pulled your bottom lip between his teeth and pulled, groaning at the sight of how innocent you looked.

after the long awaited ding of the elevator, toji grabbed your arm and pulled you towards his door.

he slung you inside and tossed you over his shoulder, once again, as he led you to the bedroom.

he gently set you down on the bed and removed his black hoodie, exposing his tattooed body. you could still see how hard he was breathing and touched his stomach to try and call him down. yet even from that innocent little touch, he was all the more hard at the sight of you.

he wordlessly took off your shoes and stood up to kiss you again. you could feel him unbuckle your jeans and your hands made their way to his pants. he moved one hand to yours and removed them from his sweats, causing you to pull back from his mouth.

the confusion lacing your face was so cute, but he needed to take his time with you. “this ain’t about me sweet girl, g’nna take my time with you and this pretty body. ‘kay?”

without giving you a chance to respond, he finally pulled your pants off in one go, and kneeled between your legs. he brought his knuckle up to your pretty pink panties and nudged at the wet spot. he licked his lips slightly and kissed your thigh.

“gonna let me eat this pretty pussy baby, yeah? wanna feel my tongue don’cha?” he was softly moving your panties to the side and groaned at the sight. your fat pussy was so pretty. cunt so puffy and wet for him, he had to get a taste.

“please toji, just touch me” you whined and toji didn’t need to hear anything else. he pulled your panties fully off and lapped at your clit like a kitten while his fingers made way to your entrance. he pushed his fingers in and you all but screamed, one hand gripping his hair while the other interlocked with his.

toji could die in your cunt and not complain. this was his own personal heaven and he swore to kill the next person who even tried to look at you funny. “yer pussy’s so sweet baby. could eat it all night if ya let me.”

he latched back onto your clit and sucked hard. his middle finger was hitting that spot you could never reach yourself and you felt euphoric. your thick thighs twitched on either side of his head, but toji didn’t care. his only focus was getting you to cum on his tongue.

he could hear your whimpers get louder and your cunt clench against his finger. he knew you were close and didn’t wanna waste anymore time.

“cum for me sweet girl. wanna taste it mama please.”

and you came, hard. your eyes rolled into the back of your head and you were gripping the covers so tightly you swore you’d put holes into it. toji was desperately trying to keep your legs open so he could continue to ravage your cunt, but he eventually opted to rubbing your precious clit while looking at your face.

he loved the sight of you coming down from your high. you looked exactly how you did after you finished crying and toji could feel his dick get impossibly harder in his pants.

he swiped his thumb over your bottom lip causing your tongue to jut out and lick. you tilted your head up a bit and sucked his thumb into your mouth, being sure to release it with a pop.

“want you to fuck me toji. please fuck me. wanna feel it in me”, you all but whined out.

he looked at you starry eyed and placed his hand on your tummy. “you wanna feel me right here baby? want me deep in your little cunny, ain’t that right” he smiled and slapped your ass.

before you could respond, toji reached for your shirt and lifted it above your head. he watched you unclasp your bra and toss it across the room. it was the first time toji had seen your beautiful, chubby body and he couldn’t be more ecstatic. you were so beautiful and he was so happy he could publically call you his.

he slipped his sweats and boxers down in one go. he reached towards his nightstand and pulled out a condom. after ripping it open with his teeth, he rolled it on and positioned himself toward your entrance.

you backed away a bit and he gripped your leg, “don’t run from me. lemme have it”.

you shook your head slightly and looked up at him wide eyed, “s’not gonna fit”.

he laughed a little and leaned down toward your neck, “i’ll make it fit, pretty”. and began to push the tip in.

he was big like you expected, but he did a considerable amount of prep to make this pleasurable for you and him.

he could feel you claw at his back and his teeth grit together. he wanted to push all the way in and fuck you stupid, but he knew he needed to go slow. it was your first time with him and he wanted to make it as special as it could be.

after fully sheathing himself in your cunt, he let out a quick “fuck” before looking into your eyes.

those beautiful e/c eyes he loved looking into so much. so teary and full of pleasure, “want me to move?”

you let out a small yes and toji rocked his hips slightly. he gripped onto the headboard above your head and sped up a little, not wanting to overwhelm you.

eventually, those small, soft strokes weren’t doing enough for you, causing you to get restless. you pushed your hips towards him and whined, “fuck me harder toji!” and that was all it took for him to fuck you like a mad man.

his hand left the headboard and pushed your thighs wider. the weight of toji on your body mixed with his heavy thrusts almost knocked the wind out of you. you were moaning and whimpering and toji loved the sight.

at some point, toji grabbed your leg and angled your anklet clad foot towards his head. he kissed your ankle before smiling down at you, which caused your pussy to gush around his cock.

he could feel your cunt start to pulsate again, all the while toji was reaching his limit too. he wanted you to cum with him, even if he had to withhold his orgasm a bit longer.

he started thumbing your clit while his body pushed your lifted leg further back, allowing him to hit a new spot within your gummy walls. you could feel the slight curve in his dick and it was driving you insane.

you looked up at him and he began to speak. “want you to cum with me baby. can you do that f’r me?”

you shook your head yes embarrassingly fast and toji rubbed your pussy just a tad bit faster.

you moaned and grabbed toji’s shoulders, “‘m gonna cum toji. i’m gonna cum. oh my god ‘m cummin- oh!” toji felt your release on his abdomen and with a loud groan, he released shortly after you.

he let you grind on his cock while you rode out your shared orgasm. he felt like he had died and went to heaven because of your pussy, and slowly but surely, he came down to witness you still twitching and shaking.

he rubbed your face gently and spoke softly, “c’mon baby. come back to me” he repeated his words until you finally let out a deep breath and weakly smiled.

he pulled out of you with a hiss and tied off the condom before disposing of it. he lifted you out of the bed and brought you to the bathroom before running you a nice warm bath. he filled the tub with bubbles and set you in gently before going to clean up the mess you two had made.

once toji came back, he washed you, lotioned you up and dressed you in a big shirt of his and boxers.

as he finally laid you down to sleep, you felt him kiss your forehead. while you knew things would never go back to the way they were, it didn’t matter because now the world knew that toji was, and always will be, yours.

#toji x black y/n #daddy toji #toji x y/n #toji fushiguro #toji x chubby reader #toji x black reader #toji smut #help! my pussy’s gone crazy!!!!

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