#THEN WHAT'S THE REASON FOR WHY CERTAIN THINGS WERE WRITTEN THE WAY THEY WERE AND THE STOLEN GLANCES

[dephoraowo]

You should read these metas if you want to understand why Jiang Cheng is in the wrong.

This is by @jiangwanyinscatmom, and it talks about how Wei Wuxian deals with the debt he has for the Jiangs.

This is by @kshithi-and-stories. This meta explains the importance of debts and morals. It is a beautifully written meta and I'd suggest everyone take a look at it!

I've got another one here. It's by @admirableadmiranda and it's a meta explaining about Jiang Cheng and his debts.

Here is another good meta on debts by @esoteric-oracle. It talks about how important life debts are in mdzs and how repaying it reflects your own character.

Jiang Cheng is obligated to repay his debts. We don't expect Jiang Cheng to sacrifice everything for the Wen siblings. We, as the readers, know that all Jiang Cheng has to do to repay his debts is by repeating what the Wen siblings did for him. Like you know, sheltering him from danger? He just needs to shelter them. That's literally the bare minimum that he has to do.

And the reason Jiang Cheng doesn't want to is because he hates all Wens. It's as simple as that. Jiang Cheng hates them, even though they risked their lives to save Jiang Cheng that night. And this hate is unjustified. Why hate those that saved you? They didn't hurt anyone in the war.

Also, I have seen many discourse on this before, such as "the Jiang Clan was recovering" or "Jiang Cheng just wanted to prioritise his own clan." The Jiang Clan was flourishing because of Wei Wuxian's accomplishments during the war. Disciples were flocking into the clan, and they had the most spoils of war. The Clan was most certainly not weak. Another evidence for this is the Jin Clan. Do you know why the Jins wanted to separate Wei Wuxian from the clan? Because the Jins know that Wei Wuxian is the reason the clan is so powerful. The Jins felt threatened by the Jiang Clan. So they purposely drove Jiang Cheng into kicking Wei Wuxian out.

Jiang Cheng doesn't really care about his clan, not in the way that you think. He only cares about the clan's reputation, its looks. We can see that throughout the entire book. He, unfortunately, does not care about the safety of his people. We can see this in Yunping City. The people in Yunping are so scared of asking him for help. They'd rather pray to a statue than ask Yunmeng Jiang. Jiang Cheng himself doesn't like taking cases in Yunmeng unless someone has already died. Not only that, but the Jiang Clan under Jiang Cheng's leadership became a former husk compared to what it once was, as shown in the novel when they returned to Lotus Pier after the second siege.

Also, I know for certain that there are gonna be people saying that Jiang Cheng also risked his life to give up his core for Wei Wuxian. And that's not true. Jiang Cheng distracted the Wens yes. But do you remembered his reaction after that? Jiang Cheng regretted it. Because he didn't expect that he would lose his golden core. That's why he was so hellbent on dying. He would never distract the Wens again if he knew he was going to lose his core.

Wei Wuxian, on the other hand, does repay his debts. He repayed his his debts to the Jiangs by:

1. Serving the Jiang Clan (Serving as Head Disciple and by serving as Jiang Cheng's subordinate)

2.. Protecting Jiang Cheng. (Ordered by JFM and YZY)

3. Giving up his golden core. (In Jiang Cheng’s point of view, a boon from Baoshan Sanren)

4. Serving the Jiangs during the war. (Because of this, the Jiang Clan could claim the most spoils of war and there were so many disciples flocking to the clan)

5. Serving the Jiangs after the war. (Jiang Cheng asked Wei Wuxian to go to the Phoenix Mountain Hunt to show off and gain more disciples. And Wei Wuxian did do so.)

6. When he sheltered the Wens, he was also helping Jiang Cheng with Jiang Cheng's own debt to the Wen siblings.

The thing about Jiang Cheng is that not only did he not do anything to help the ones that helped him, but he also went as far as to harm them! He declared Wei Wuxian an enemy to the cultivation world, thus painting a target onto his back officially. He stabbed Wei Wuxian in the gut. A stab in the gut could have killed anyone, core or no core. Then he pledged to kill the Wen remnants and Wei Wuxian. And he led a siege against them. Which ultimately led to their deaths. He also conveniently led a 2nd siege, too.

Wei Wuxian DID sacrifice everything for the Jiangs. He was willing to:

1. Endure all of Jiang Cheng's insults and disrespect and his mistreatment in the Jiang household to become Jiang Cheng's subordinate

2. Take the blame whenever he, Jiang Cheng, and the rest of the disciples were misbehaving

3. Lose an arm for the clan

4. Be whipped to prevent the clan from being harmed by Wang Lingjiao

5. Be unjustly blamed by Yu Ziyuan and Jiang Cheng for what happened at Lotus Pier.

6. Be choked so that Jiang Cheng could let off some steam.

7. Give away his own golden core/immortal's boon for Jiang Cheng.

8. Die for a way to give Jiang Cheng a chance to live with a core

9. Be used as the Jiang Clan's weapon during the war

10. Be used to promote the Jiang Clan after the war.

11. Be exiled so that the Clan wouldn't be affected by whatever he did

12. Sacrifice his own status and reputation (which was sort of horrible to begin with).

Wei Wuxian sacrificed EVERYTHING that he had (which isn't a lot to begin with) for the Jiangs, and it ultimately led to his downfall.

Jiang Cheng DID NOT sacrifice everything. The only time he did (which is so less compared to Wei Wuxian) is when he distracted the Wens. But the moment he lost his core, he was ready to die and started choking Wei Wuxian a second time for it. He regretted doing it. After this incident, he never helped Wei Wuxian again because he didn't want any sort of inconvenience. He is clan heir, he has money and power, he has status, he has a strong clan to rely on. Even if he doesn't have a core, he still has all of this. Wei Wuxian has none! The only thing that Wei Wuxian has that is all HIS is the "boon" from Baoshan sanren, and he gave it away to Jiang Cheng! (And no, Wei Wuxian's reputation and status is not his, it's something that he has only when he does the Jiangs bidding. You will notice that once he is kicked out he doesn't have anything anymore, no money, no status, nothing.)

Wei Wuxian did so much for the clan, for Jiang Cheng, and yet he has never asked for anything in return. Wei Wuxian never went up to Jiang Cheng and said how much does your father owe my mother? How much have I done for the Jiang Clan and how are you going to repay that? You remembered that core inside of you? How are you going to repay that? Wei Wuxian never did any of this. Unlike Jiang Cheng, he was never going on and on about what kind of debt anyone owes him.

The hypocritical thing about Jiang Cheng is this. He did so little in comparison to Wei Wuxian, and yet he still wants more. Wei Wuxian contributed so much for the Jiangs, and yet he asked for so little. The hypocritical thing about Jiang Cheng is that while he cares so much about the debt that Wei Wuxian has for the Jiangs, (which btw, he doesn't really owe the Jiangs anything, JFM owed CSSR a debt, and he repaid it by taking WWX in), he never once thought about repaying his own debts. It's always about him him him and never about anyone else. He's always going on and on about his family, his clan, his reputation, and his everything, to be honest with you. That kind of thinking is so self-centered. He has never once stopped to think about repaying his own debts. He's always thinking about how OTHER PEOPLE should repay HIM. That is what makes Jiang Cheng such a hypocritical, ungrateful person.

So let me get this straight, JC antis fully expect him to risk and sacrifice everything—from his personal moral duty, to the entire Jiang Clan’s survival—to repay his debt to the Wen siblings. But when JC expects the same from Wwx, suddenly it's “wrong,” “selfish,” and “entitled” for JC to do so? Y'all antis love to ignore the fact that Wwx owes a huge debt to the Jiang Clan, who save him, take him in, and raise him to be a cultivator.

If JC is expected to sacrifice everything bc of a debt, then the same should be applied to Wwx, he should also be expected to give up everything, including his own high and mighty morals to repay the Jiang Clan for everything they did for him. But no, apparently when it’s Wwx, it’s okay for him to follow his personal principles and abandon his obligations.

And before y'all start whining about the golden core transfer, let’s take a moment to remember why Jiang Cheng lost his core in the first place. Oh, right—it's bc of Wwx. JC sacrificed himself when he didn’t owe Wwx a damn thing, he did it out of pure love and loyalty. So if you’re going to cry abt JC being ungrateful for not bending over backward to repay his debts, then guess what? Wei Wuxian is just as every bit as ungrateful, if not worse than JC for spitting on the debt he owed to the Jiangs.

[fangirlforlife97]

Can you imagine if we get Bi Buck and confirmation of his feelings for Eddie and eventually get confirmation of gay or bi Eddie who's been in love with Buck the whole time!!!???!!! That Eddie has been pining the whole time but never said anything cause he didn't think Buck was gay or bi and was afraid Buck wouldn't feel the same, etc so he pushed his feelings away?! Or at the very least is still pining for Buck secretly even though he thinks nothing could ever possibly happen between them???!!!

And then imagine if we get Eddie being extremely jealous of men being into Buck and then seeing Buck and other men flirt!!??!! We've seen jealous Buck and jealous Eddie before but somehow I feel like the jealousy would be top notch to see play out and would be different in a sense cause Buck's romantic interest would be a man instead of a woman. I hope and strongly think we are getting Bi Buck and I love it, but I also really really hope for a gay or bi Eddie who's been pining from the start. THAT WOULD BE AMAZING!!!!!

[acid-ixx]

Planned Fanfics !

ft. platonic/ yandere batfam, superfam, villains, au's & many more!

— Disclaimer! This contains massive spoilers and all my plans for future works that I'll soon publish. This is posted because I wish to update my readers upon the contents of what I'm working to write and for them to leave inputs and whatnot. Sorry for the delays and all, life is hectic and as much as I love writing, I also have a life outside of this site sadly. By the way, this is not even half of my drafts and if anyone is interested in the things written beneath here, then please do tell!

To Be His Child is All I want (A&A, Chapter 5): Confronting Jason, one of your brothers who played a role in neglecting you, and being partly the reason why you ventured out the manor to seek love, away from the unhealthy environment, was no easy task. Back and forths with him, and reasoning why you don't wish to return back 'home' only poured fire into the flames of your already aching heart, as you scream about only wishing to be loved by even a fraction of the compassion Bruce feels for all his other children was all you needed to feel happy in life. It was enough to leave Jason breathless, muddled with emotions he couldn't quite grasp.

As you drown in a seamless fit of arguing and sobbing into the arms of your brother, the manor holds a meeting regarding your sudden disappearance. Bruce is promptly disappointed at Jason's absence; the others are just as intrigued with Dick and Damian's urgency to find you. Yet all are unbeknownst to your plans of escape, and most especially to a certain Kryptonian's scheme to have you in his arms all for himself.

Family Dinner (A&A): Silly, old you can't seem to stomach the fact that they're all looking at you now at the elongated table when months ago you were a mere ghost in their eyes whilst they chatter happily amongst each other. Unfamiliar with how communicating with a family who estranged you works; you end up having a panic attack in the middle of dinner when Damian attempted to hug you.

To Love and To Cherish (Random): Bruce Wayne loves his spouse and everything about them. They're everything desirable in his eyes and he couldn't help the urges that keeps him running back to you every time he patrols to ensure not only the safety of Gotham, but for the sake of his growing plans to fully integrate you as a full-time house spouse. The problem Bruce faces, though, is that he's not actually married to you, yet, and you're unaware of his prying eyes on your form as you live alone in your shabby apartment.

Flowers on My Grave (A&A, Hanahaki AU): Flowers don't only bloom inside your lungs when you're rejected by someone you love romantically, they can also manifest through platonic love unrequited. Vomiting a bouquet of yellow carnations and an arraw of purple and blue hyacinths, you set to sever the bond of love you once felt for them once and for all.

Cold House, Lone Spouse (Loving Family, Unpalatable Desire): You come home from Clark's farm to sleep in your own room to make sure nobody suspects a thing; expecting to power through the pain of loneliness in your room. But you end up waking up to Bruce's body pressed against your back and his arms caging you, unrelenting in its pursuit to make sure you never seek out another man's hold again.

Once Your Son, Always Your Son (Loving Family, Unpalatable Desire): Your routine with your beloved son, Jon, leaves nothing else to be desired as you set about your usual nightly schedule of helping him clean up, fix his bed, and read him bedtime stories— something you've grown accustomed to love naturally as being a parent does. But when Damian comes to visit you once Jon falls asleep, he enviously demands you do the same to him and to return to the manor where a better family is waiting for you.

The Confrontation (Loving Family Unpalatable Desire): Clark's night with you always ends up with him hovering above your body, kissing all the exposed parts of your skin, and worshipping your body which lays upon his bed every night. It's the perfect fantasy, yet it's promptly shattered when he sees the familiar silhouette of his comrade, clad in all black, demanding that Clark returns his spouse back in his arms; as if he's not the very same man who left you all alone that night at the gala, available for taking.

A Father's Strange Case of Gift Giving (A&A): To make it up to you, Bruce tries to spoil you rotten with a bottomless allowance and unrestricted access to all his credit cards. Even a mansion built on your name is built as one of the family's vacation houses. One unsettling fact, though, is Bruce's proficiency of capturing every detail of all things you prefer in such a short span of time after kidnapping you. (i.e. You're unaware of the cameras planted in every corner of your room trying to capture the things that makes you smile).

Mind Games and Mind Control (Brutus): What if it were The Riddler and Scarecrow who saved you from nearly dying? With your emotional reception, and both their wits, you end up stirring more trouble for Gotham's vigilantes. But during times where you've nothing to do but watch as both villains enact upon their master plans, itching to satisfy the ache of bloodlust coursing through your veins, you start to notice the abrupt bouts of energy they exert upon tormenting whoever stares at you (sitting comfortably on a cushioned couch, treated like royalty no less) or talks behind your back— crazed for your words of approval and praise as if it's not them who are capable enough of controlling you instead.

The Powered, and the Powerless (Random, Romantic Batfam): During the night, they are your city's saviors, the light that shines bright on darkness, the hope that never wavers through moments of fear. Daytime, meanwhile, they're portrayed as a rich, socialite family who donate millions on charity and everything that promotes good costs. Power comes to them naturally, and praise is served to most of them in a silver platter for all their hard work. You can even say their status is akin to that of Gods, except you don't think of them the same way others do; choosing to utilize your immense knowledge of internet safety to publish articles and conspiracies pertaining to each member of the Wayne family through anonymous forums. Yet all this results in their interest in your secret identity.

Fate Unwanted (Random, Soulmate AU): You're a simple person living on the outskirts of an unnamed town on the boundaries of Gotham. Curious on why your parents are protective of you, forcing you to live with countless of strick rules written boldly on paper and plastered on the front of your refrigerator, and why you just can't seem to produce or perceive any soulmate bond; you set out on a mission to find the mysteries of your unmarked soul. Little did you know that the strangers you stumble upon who chose to assist you on your journey, all from every city and every known state, have found their soulmate that they're unwilling to share.

[orphiclovers]

The first scenario of ORV has always fascinated me. "Kill another person to survive." It might be the most common plot point in apocalyptic stories.. Pretty much all of them feature some discussion of morality and how to define it, good and evil, played out by deeply morally grey characters who have to make a choice to kill.

But ORV is a story about stories.

The Star Stream is trying to tell 'the story of an apocalypse' and it does! But in the most crude and unpolished way.

It's almost cynical. 'We are telling an apocalypse story, what's a common plot beat in apocalypse stories? 'No one is innocent and everyone has killed to survive'. Okay, let's make it a literal requirement for everyone to have killed someone to proceed.'

It's robotic, taking a story beat and stripping it down to it's bare essentials, then forcing the incarnations to adapt to it or die.

But the thing is. That's what all writing is. ORV just pulls back the curtain, exposing the internal circutry that makes a story work. Orv doesn't lie to you about the inherent artifice of it all.

The scenarios are perfect little plot arcs, designed to test the limits and reveal the strenghs and weaknesses of incarnations - 'the characters' of the story. It's not some cruel torture, it's literally just the act of storytelling. Writing 101 is put characters through hardship to reveal certain qualities in them or to make them go through character development.

Only difference is that writers usually camouflage the 'scenarios' they give their characters until the circumstances seem 'realistic' and like they happened on their own, like the author isn't forcing their reality to bend this way at all.

Oh, one character didn't lock the door in time due and got bitten by a zombie. And so inevitably this other character has to make the choice to kill them or not. There's as many explanaitions as the author can cook up as to what lead the characters to this moment. How the zombies got there, why these two were in the same vicinity, etc etc.

But, it's all set dressing the author has added to make the audience forget that this is too a 'scenario' given to the characters to test them. There's a time limit and a description and a reward and a penalty for failure, but all of these are cleverly hidden. The time limit can be until the last helicopter leaves in 10 minutes. The unspoken penalty is death. The author arranged how the characters find out some or all of this information in convienient ways.

Star Stream just lays it all out in front you you, straight up. States 'Kill another incarnation or have them kill you' and doesn't attempt to justify the circumstances, because of course, the real reason all this is happening is because the story demands it.

It's a universe that does not hide the author's hand in every tiny little event that happens.

So this too is the question "What if the characters knew they were in a story?" asked yet again. Every single being in the ORV universe knows they are in a story. The system itself makes it obvious - you can look at your own character sheet, you obtain 'stories' when you do something impressive but are constrained by 'probability' and what the audience finds interesting. You're body is literally made up of words written about you're life!

That's why the worldbuilding is so cohesive and so so good. All of it is telling you 'the world is a novel.'

[hiddenreamers]

I was in your music video - f1 drivers x singer!reader

SUMMARY: They say that if a poet loves you, they will write you into immortality. But if you date a musician, they might write you into the Billboard 100. Which is exactly what happens to your driver boyfriend.

Featuring: Lewis Hamilton, Lando Norris, Oscar Piastri, Carlos Sainz Jr, Max Verstappen, Charles Leclerc, George Russell

Note: Yes, two songs are sung by male artists. Yes, I'm going to ignore that fact and you should, too.

Lewis Hamilton

He's been in the room maybe five times. The space always felt strangely sacred to him - this is where you write, compose and practice songs with your band; this is where the magic, so to speak, happens. Walls are absolutely covered with tour posters, polaroids and printed-out articles. There's a large mirror that seems to be a message board considering all the sticky notes and words written with a marker. The only somewhat de-cluttered space is surrounding the setup. It's an unspoken testament to being a musician in a band.

There's a certain tension inside the driver. You've never asked him to listen to a song before it's finished. Sure, he has listened through your albums before they were officially released but it was always just that - a recording, not a live version. So what's different this time? Why is it vital he hears this song early?

Walking through the room, Lewis has to carefully watch where he's going. He doesn't want to accidentally break something by stepping on a cable or kicking a box with unknown contents. Inside a garage, he knows what not to touch but a recording studio and instruments are pretty much an unknown world to him.

Lewis is standing around a tad awkwardly, hands in pockets, when the bassist pushes a big black box closer to the driver.

"Have a seat." The musician points to the chest.

Lewis frowns. "On the box?" he asks, unsure. "Is that okay?"

"It's the Lucky Chest, Hamilton," the bassist announces. The other band members snicker at the title. "You have to sit on it."

"What's lucky about it?" Lewis inquires. More than the seating choice, he's interested in the reason for laughter.

"The first time we played at a big festival," the guitarist begins, her story slightly interrupted by her tuning the guitar, "we were sitting on it and listening to Green Day's stage, wondering 'how the fuck are we supposed to play after them?'."

"We were doing like a punk-rock tribute thing," adds the drummer. He's adjusting his seat and judging by the constant up-and-down movement, he can't make up his mind. The process is finally over when he reaches to tap the high-hat and nods to himself, content.

"After we finished our set," you take over retelling the story, "Billy Joe Armstrong came up to us and said we did great."

"So now it's the Lucky Chest," concludes the bassist.

Perhaps it's another testament to being a musician in a band when multiple people together tell one story without cutting details or creating chaos. A true harmony, though a joke a little on the nose.

"Well, I'm honoured," Lewis says. An airy giggle escapes him as he's still thinking about how easily teamwork comes to you and your band.

"You should be." The guitarist points her finger at him in a joking but accusatory way. Then she looks over her shoulder. "Whenever you're ready, drummer boy."

Music fills the room and Lewis is instantly captivated by you. He noticed it the first time he saw you on stage, how something inside you changes the moment you hear the instruments playing. Intensity, fire - passion in its most primal form. But this time around, the look in your eyes is different. You're no longer looking at the audience but him specifically; instead of singing a song, you seem to be telling him something.

So he listens.

I'm a desert, you're an ocean It's your motion that I need Without you I am broken, left to thirst out in the heat

And how strange he suddenly feels: all of the sentiments he already knows but now that you've put them into words for the whole world to hear, he can't help but find some revelation in them. For a moment, there's only the two of you and your confession of desire. Every word resonates with him and Lewis feels like he could say all of those things about you, too.

The song is far from over but he has already decided - he will listen to it before every race.

Lando Norris

Nothing seemed different about that day.

Lando is streaming while you're still at the studio. In an hour or so, you will come back, he will end the stream and the two of you will sit down to eat something. You will talk about your day, he will say something silly and both of you will laugh. Just like you always did.

To his credit, Lando couldn't have known about the song because you never told him. Some part of you thought it would be a bit dramatic to announce that you've written a song about him but can't play it yet because it's not finished. It would spoil the fun, wouldn't it? Therefore, you decided to tell Lando only after he listened to the final product. Perhaps you also wanted to seem a lot more nonchalant about the whole thing, planning on giving him just an off-hand comment of "oh, by the way, this one's about you". Life, however, rarely turns out the way we plan and that's exactly what happened that night.

If it was just one or two people calling Lando "honeybee" on the stream, he probably wouldn't even notice. But even he will pay attention when the comments are going on hundreds if not thousands.

He can't help but grow flustered at the pet name born out of his visceral fear of insects.

"Who told you that?!" he yells in a comically angry tone, a poor attempt at hiding embarrassment.

The comments come flooding again, explaining the situation only in variations of your name and the title Espresso. And like a detective following a crime, Lando immediately searches the internet.

"I feel lied to," he speaks up. "She didn't tell me she has a new song coming out. Why am I the last one to know? When I literally live with her? This is so unfair, I'm obviously the biggest fan, I should know first!"

Lando plays the music video. From the first line of "he's thinking about me every night", his bashfulness only gets worse. What starts as an excited smile, grows into a flustered, giggly mess. Although his pride is on the line, he can't deny any of the claims you make in the song. Yes, he couldn't sleep one night thinking about you and texted you about that. Yes, he does call you often even though he hates making phone calls. And yes, Lando Norris is, in fact, wrapped around your finger. What a horse is everyone can see and similarly, everyone can see and define who Lando is when it comes to his girlfriend:

"Simp?" he reads one of the comments. "Look, maybe I am but at the end of the day I'm dating her and you're not so who's the real loser here?"

Lando can only laugh his heart out when the chat gets flooded with identical comments: You.

"Okay, I admit. I'm down bad for my girlfriend and I'm proud of that."

Tomorrow's headlines are bound to be interesting...

Oscar Piastri

Although Oscar has seen you in musicals countless times, this situation feels a lot weirder and more uncomfortable. When he comes to watch your show, he's in the audience and you're on the stage. Now you're sitting side by side on the couch in your shared apartment, about to see your first movie. You're both the audience and the creator, which leaves you unsure how to act.

Unfortunately, your discomfort only grows. Oscar seems to be enjoying the movie but joy is not granted to you on this day. With each minute, you know your big part is coming. Oh God, what is he going to think?

Then, you suddenly pause the film. Oscar looks at you confused.

"There's something you need to know before you watch this scene and listen to the song," you say before he can ask you about your strange actions.

Oscar's frown only deepens. "You're making it sound really serious."

"Because it is. The thing is... " you hang your voice, unsure how to put words together. How do you tell someone this without making things awkward? "This is more embarrassing than I thought it would be but the song you're about to hear, I wrote it thinking about you."

He's trying to smile but the shadow of embarrassment on his face doesn't go unnoticed. You can only hope it's good kind of nervous.

The movie is resumed. As your discomfort is barely tolerable, you're looking away from the TV, fidgeting ever-so-slightly. Once or twice, you glance at Oscar, trying to see his reaction. The problem is, he's sitting unbelievably still. True, Oscar Piastri tends to be on the calmer side but right now it feels off. As if lost deep in thought, he appears to be diligently contemplating the scene in the movie; picking apart the words that came to your mind while thinking about him.

When the song comes to an end, you pause the film once more. A tense silence falls between you and Oscar, both longing to say something and yet neither willing to.

"So?" you begin hesitantly. "What do you think?"

Oscar shifts awkwardly. "Erm... I don't really know what to say."

A nervous giggle escapes your lips. "It's really sappy, I know." You try to downplay the situation, fearing that his reaction is born out of something negative. Does he think you're clingy? Obsessive? Too dramatic to handle?

"It's not that," he quickly denies. "Well, okay, it is kind of sappy but it's good sappy?" Oscar's tone raises slightly, revealing that he's unsure whether it's the right choice of words.

"Good sappy?" you repeat.

It feels as though woe has weaved a nest inside your viscera. "Good sappy" sounds like a lovely, diplomatic euphemism used not to hurt someone's feelings.

"Yeah, it's just..." Oscar doesn't finish his sentence. He runs his hand through his hair, then rubs the back of his neck nervously. Finally, he looks at you but not in a way you're familiar with. There's something ethereal in his gaze, a glint of inexplicable emotion that would escape a less observant eye. "It's really beautiful," he says. "The fact that you feel this way about me?" You could swear there are tears in his eyes as he lets out a flustered giggle. "I can die happy now."

Carlos Sainz

As old tradition entails, the Thursdays before a race weekend are meant for golfing. And who is Carlos Sainz to not give in to the custom?

He's sitting in his car, impatiently ploughing through the traffic of the city centre. Why are people out and about at this time, anyway? Shouldn't they be at work? Wanting to get his mind off of the fact that he's going to be quite late to the game, Carlos turns on the radio. The man is mindlessly skipping through the stations until something catches his attention - the announcer introduces you as today's guest.

"Hello again, pretty girl," Carlos says to himself. A small smile enters his face.

"First of all, I'd like to thank you," the radio host begins. "Unfinished Business is just the album I've been waiting for this year. And not only me! Have you seen Billboard 100 lately?"

Your flustered giggle is just as adorable as always. "Yesterday evening, I think?"

The broadcaster sighs dramatically. "Then you have ancient news. I have the site pulled up now and check it every few minutes. Let me tell you, Unfinished Business has climbed twenty spots since morning."

"Oh, shoot."

"Indeed." The announcer laughs and Carlos does with him. It's such a familiar theme for the driver - you being more humble than you really should be, surprised by the success you entirely deserve.

"Now, to address the elephant in the room or rather on the music charts. Over and Over Again is like a love letter all of us have written but never sent. Tell me all about it!"

"I guess 'love letter' is a pretty good description," you explain. Curious, Carlos turns up the volume. "For some time, I was trying to put my thoughts together and tell someone how I felt but never could quite do it. I can write good songs but in real life, I'm pretty terrible at speaking my mind and talking about feelings. I just don't want people to misunderstand, you know?"

"What are you saying, hermosa?" Carlos asks aloud, although there's no one to answer him.

"At least you can write a song about it! We regular folk are stuck with memes and playlists."

"Thank God, I can!" You laugh and, as embarrassing as it may sound, Carlos feels a sudden warmth spreading through his chest. "I was struggling with saying what I wanted to say to him, so at some point, I just decided I could put those words and feelings into a song. He likes to listen to the radio when he's driving so he might even be listening right now."

Although nothing bad or negative is going on, Carlos feels himself growing tense, nervous. There's no doubt the "he" you keep mentioning is him but what exactly is it you've been trying to tell him? Is there something he's missing?

"Did you tell him you've written a song about him?" the radio host asks.

"It might have slipped my mind," you answer coyly.

The announcer only laughs. "Oh dear, what a way to find out! Without further ado, let's hear your love letter to the mysterious man. I really hope he's listening to us right now. Don't you dare change the station, you lucky guy."

To his own surprise, Carlos recognizes the melody - you've been humming it for weeks now. But as you begin singing, the words leave him in disbelief. Do you really... mean all of that?

Carlos is lost in the song, feeling as though the lyrics aren't just lyrics but your genuine confession; a true love letter, as you have said yourself. He's brought back to reality only when the car behind him honks and Carlos is a hair's breadth away from picking a fight with the other driver. Nothing requires more haste or attention than his girlfriend exclaiming to the whole world that he will always be the one for her and that she will love him over and over again.

Charles Leclerc

You don't hear Charles coming in - you're too lost in your own thing to remember there's an entire world outside of the song and the piano in front of you. On the other hand, Charles doesn't announce his arrival as he doesn't want to disturb you. To be perfectly honest, he's a little too curious to interrupt you. It happens very rarely that you practise outside of the studio and so Charles doesn't really get to hear your more casual singing, not an embellished performance for the audience.

As quietly as he can, he makes his way towards you. Charles casually leans against the doorframe, your back turned to him as you continue playing the piano. He barely bites back the smile that creeps onto his face whenever you effortlessly sing the high notes - they are difficult for professionals and yet you execute them so cleanly, they appear almost too easy.

The lyrics haunt him but in a truly delicious way. A particular note of sincerity in your voice makes the words stick to him like rain does to a reckless passerby. Sure, they will slip away, although not before drenching him; their vital piece will forever lie with him.

When the song comes to an end, Charles (without thinking twice) gives you a hefty applause. The surprise makes you almost fall off the chair.

"Shit, you scared me!" you yell at him. It takes a couple deep breaths and your boyfriend's apologies, to collect yourself. "How much did you hear?"

He shrugs, suddenly realizing that he wasn't supposed to hear even one note of the song. "Pretty much all of it."

Your expression must not be joyful as Charles resumes his apologies and poor attempts at excuses. Suddenly, you cut him off. "How'd you like it?"

For a moment, he only hums and mindlessly knocks at the doorframe, looking for the right words.

"I loved it," he confesses. A strange tension in his voice proves he's telling the truth. "It's a beautiful song."

"Good," you answer absentmindedly. Quietly, you nod to yourself before looking back at Charles, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "It would really suck if you hated a song about yourself, you know?"

His eyes grow wide and Charles seems to forget about blinking for a good minute. Judging by the changes in his expression, you can tell the exact thought process he's experiencing: realizing you've written a song about him, joy caused by that, remembering the lyrics and finally taking them personally.

The more observant fans might notice a new addition to his helmet: "Claire de Lune" written in elegant lettering.

George Russell

Common sense might tell you that a race car driver must have no fear. And that would be correct, although quite imprecise. They must have no fear on track, yes, but daily life is quite different from racing, isn't it? Or maybe George is discovering a range of emotions he has not known before.

Your relationship is fresh but that isn't to say it's not serious. The weight of the connection the two of you share is a major part of the reason why George has been dead set on taking things slow. The other part is him knowing what media circus will play out once the news breaks. It's hard to blame him for wanting to keep at least some aspect of his life private, especially one that means so much to him.

As understanding as you are, George's apprehensiveness is tiring. You perfectly understand his reasoning and to some degree share the sentiment but at the same time, you are just somebody in love - you itch to scream it to the whole world. Or, at the very least, share a picture of the two of you. Both of you haven't been middle-schoolers for quite some time now, so why act like ones?

George, like the supportive boyfriend he is, loves to see you in your element. He watches the music videos, yet, but he much prefers the dance practice videos, where you're visibly enjoying each second of the choreography. Therefore, when you upload a new dance video for your song, he's probably the first person to play it.

It's a catchy tune that makes even the most boring people want to dance a little. With his head moving to the rhythm, George doesn't focus much on the lyrics until something in the second verse catches his attention:

So used to hiding We built our kingdom around The right timing

The lines, understandably, hit a little too close to home to be a pure coincidence. Now suspicious, George replays the video - this time, he's actually listening to the words instead of focusing on your dancing. Any hesitation that he's the true recipient of the song is gone with the first line of "Say you want me". The desperation in your voice is simply too candid to be just an act for the sake of the performance.

With the song loudly playing on a loop, George is scrolling through his phone's gallery in search of the best pictures of the two of you. He can't help but mouth the lyrics along with your singing, only to randomly giggle as the thought once again settles - it's about him.

Your phone can't stop vibrating. The notifications are coming nonstop. What on Earth happened? Upon opening Instagram, the mystery is solved. The internet seemed to be set on fire when George posted a series of pictures of the two of you with a caption that earned a giddy chuckle from you: "Setting us in motion".

Max Verstappen

Max and you both understand how much support can change. Sometimes just knowing that this other person is out there, watching and cheering, can change everything. As such, the two of you try to attend each other's events as much as you can. Unfortunately, the universe isn't always kind and you end up on the opposite ends of the world. The only support you can offer then is watching the live-streamed event - just like Max is doing right now.

He's sitting in his driver's room in Singapore, while you're at an award show in the USA. Quite the distance. There's something unbearably humbling about having to watch your performance like most of the world, when Max is, without a doubt, not most of the world.

In the back of his mind, Max is still thinking about the conversation he had with you earlier. Although he never misses your performances, you made it a point to tell him to watch this one. In your own words, he's supposed to look out for something fun, like a detail that will make this show different from the others. So as though he is a hawk, or more of a vulture, Max is hyperanalizing everything that's happening on the screen. He's not about to miss your little surprise.

The song begins and as much as he wants to enjoy watching you in your element, Max is a missile on a mission. Nothing specific seems to catch his eye but that t-shirt you're wearing...

Max knows it all too well. Theoretically, it's his t-shirt but considering you wear it more often than he does, it's practically yours. Now it's styled to fit the concept and image of your bandmates but the colour, the logo, the number, are all unmistakeable. Considering how much you're touching the article of clothing, compared to other dancers, he's convinced he's found what he was meant to look for.

Before he can wonder why you've chosen to wear his t-shirt for your performance, it's you who gives him the answer through the lyrics:

I feel like for the first time I am not faking Fingers on my buttons and now you're playing Master of anticipation, don't you keep it all to yourself

Max Verstappen doesn't get flustered but if he did, he'd be beyond flustered right now. The realization hits him like a derailed train - the song that everyone has been obsessed with through the summer and that has pretty obvious sexual lyrics is actually about him.

And if he did get flustered, the emotion would be rather short-lived, giving way to pride. After all, the core meaning of the song is that he's a generous lover, right? Clearly, he's been taking good care of his girlfriend.

Now, each sung line of "Just the touch of your love" makes Max all the more frustrated that the two of you are so far apart. He's earned his title of "Master of anticipation" and he intends to keep it.

[eowynstwin]

This truly is the last thing I want to say on this blog and then I'm done psych I lived bitch, but given how the fucking catastrophe started it's only appropriate this is how I end it—

You have racist bias whether you like it or not. Particularly if you are US American, racism was baked into your worldview no matter what kind of household, liberal or conservative, you grew up in. Racism is quite often far more covert than it is overt. It is not just a voluntary behavior; it is more often the subconscious ways you organize and hierarchize other cultures and people.

In the case of Gaz—sure, you might actively believe that he deserves to be more included. You think he's a good character and people really should think about him more! But you personally headcanon him a certain way, and really it's not a headcanon you're actually all that into, so that's why you don't talk about him as much. It's not because he's black, it's because he doesn't fit the thing you like talking about the most. The fact that he's black is really just a coincidence, you're not excluding him because of that. In fact, you're sure other people like him for exactly the reason you're not all that into him, and you'll just leave it to them to pick up the slack. Or you'll get to him later! In fact, you have some ideas for him. You just haven't gotten around to them yet.

Take that and multiply it by thousands of white women in fandom—not just this fandom, not just Gaz's character, but every fandom and every character of color. It doesn't matter that there's no active malice behind not personally liking black characters and other characters of color. Non-white characters still take a backseat to their white counterparts, because white women in fandom cannot wrap their heads around black, brown, indigenous, and Asian characters as complex, complicated characters worthy of their interest or frankly, their desire.

They cannot wrap their heads around this because they were conditioned not to by decades of racist culture.

Case in point; plenty of white women in this fandom have fallen head over heels for Makarov and Graves. The sins of these out-and-out villains are totally forgiven by virtue of their sex appeal, and because they are portrayed by attractive, charismatic men who put a lot of passion behind their performances.

But can we say the same for Hadir? Can we say the same for Hassan?

The sins of these two Middle Eastern characters do not outweigh those of their villainous white counterparts, yet how many angsty fix-it fics have been written exploring Hadir's complicated relationship with violence and imperialism? How many enemies-to-lovers or even lovers-to-enemies fics have been written about Hassan, the face of whose homeland has been irrevocably marred by US interference?

No one who points out the racism of this trend is accusing these white women of active, militant white supremacy. I'm not saying any of you even have to like Gaz, Hadir, or Hassan. But your preferences have been tuned for you by a culture shaped by slavery, imperialism, and white supremacy. That is not something you can escape merely because you support the BLM movement or reblog vetted Palestinian gofundmes.

The only way you can truly fight your own racism is to be actively anti-racist. It is about far more than who you give money to or what graphics you pin on your instagram. It is an everyday practice of learning how racism has shaped your worldview for you.

This is not work that is done in a week, a month, or a year. Becoming anti-racist takes as much time as it took to make you racist in the first place. For some of you, the work may turn out to be easy. For others, it may be hard. You must do it either way.

Some good places to start:

Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe

Ain't I a Woman? by bell hooks

We Real Cool: Black Men and Masculinity by bell hooks

A Burst of Light by Audre Lorde

The Body Is Not An Apology by Sonya Renee Taylor

Fearing the Black Body by Sabrina Strings

Reading Lolita in Tehran by Azar Nafisi

Being Palestinian edited by Yasir Suleiman

[stargirl-russo]

Sailor Song (Alessia Russo x Reader)

Summary: Joining Arsenal WFC was supposed to be the best thing for your footballing career, you were the best female footballer in the world after all. You didn't expect the unexpected longing of a certain blonde that came with it.

(Hi! I've never written fan fics before but I was inspired by some I read and thought why not?! i hope you like it, i honestly might delete later or return it to drafts if I can? or even a pt 2??? idk lmk if you want more! enjoy. do I need to add warnings>....suggestive? angst? )

Recalling the exact moment when it happened was difficult to comprehend, maybe because you tried to completely erase the moment from your memory. You felt embarrassed, ashamed, and even a little disgraced with yourself. Why did you have to like another girl, a straight girl, who definitely didn't feel the same?!

Joining Arsenal this season was exactly what both parties wanted - you needed a change in scenery, and they wanted - no needed - a more clinical finisher like yourself. Everyone at the team was especially welcoming, considering your intimidating resume of accolades at such a young age - taking the women's football world by storm. You got on with everyone on the team, especially the Aussies, Kyra, Steph and Caitlin - being Australian yourself. But one particular teammate stood out to you the most, for more reasons than one.

You'd never forget the first day you finally saw and met the Alessia Russo in person, after admiring her from afar for about a year. She was absolutely beautiful, incredibly captivating and alluring. Words couldn't explain how you felt when you saw her at training, or heard her laugh or when she would smile - which was always. The way your heart hammered against your chest, it felt like you couldn't breathe, the butterflies in your stomach erupted like crazy. These feelings, they just felt...right. She made you feel so giddy and happy.

Although the thrill of this girl crush was very exciting, a part of you couldn't help but feel extremely ashamed. You were not supposed to like a teammate, let alone girls. You couldn't help but admire her gorgeous blue eyes, her long lashes, her soft voice, and her long blonde hair as you smiled shyly and shook her perfectly manicured hand, introducing yourself. Her southern british accent made you weak in the knees. "I can't wait to share the pitch with you this season."

You were absolutely certain that no one knew about this infatuation, crush or admiration, or how down bad you were - whatever you wanted to call it - with Alessia Russo. It was just so easy to get along with her, your calm natured and laid-back personalities working well together. Both sharing certain things in common, attending the same college in the US for football at different years, your love for fashion, travelling, and similar music tastes. She was just so sweet, genuine, caring, and just a ray of sunshine - you couldn't get enough. The chemistry you both had was clearly evident on the pitch also, as your styles of play complemented each other perfectly; turning arsenal's season around with each match.

It scared you how you strongly you felt about her, as she probably had no idea about the effect she had on you, and above all, probably didn't feel the same. And now you were going to continue to play alongside her and work with her nearly every day this season. You'd eagerly wait to see your cheerful teammate and greet her happily weekly at training. It was a blessing and a curse, but it was something that kept you going.

Hiding your sexuality was something you had no trouble dealing with initially as you just constantly immersed yourself with the football: whether it was with routine season interviews, the sponsorship photoshoots, the constant training or the glamorous award shows - it kept you busy, a distraction which led to you further cementing your place as the best young women's footballer in the world. It's not anything anyone really expected of you anyway, to like girls. Besides, you never spoke about personal matters to the media, so no one really assumed anything at first. Which was a plus.

You'd constantly make excuses to avoid going out with friends away from football, who wanted to enjoy a night on the town, bragging about the boys they'd make out with at clubs, or the crushes they had on them. Not that you could relate though, but a part of you wished you could feel that sense of normalcy. To fit in, to relate. No one had no idea what you were going through or how you felt. It got harder to find excuses to deny random set ups with guys. Your feelings for Alessia were actually driving you to insanity, you were most likely going through an identity crisis - but you were still in denial.

However, the longer you concealed your true feelings and the harder you tried to deny it, you found it harder each and every day hiding how you felt about the certain blonde. It became more difficult to suppress your feelings, you wanted to talk to someone, - anyone - but you were afraid with how they would react if they found out. Besides you weren't going to embarrass yourself if she didn't even feel the same, what would be the point of coming out anyway right?!

But maybe you should've controlled yourself. You should have ignored her, distanced yourself even. It was fine though, you were just acknowledging that fact she was really gorgeous, and you weren't crushing on her - or so you told yourself. But the not-so-subtle glances at her during the training sessions said otherwise.

The glancing became constant, admiring her whenever she'd move with or without the ball or take a drink of water during break. You just couldn't help but admire her longingly. Thinking of believable excuses when being called out by the outspoken Katie McCabe became more difficult to articulate. You were certain Alessia was oblivious to this, and she was - for the time being.

It was supposed to be a post game interview focusing on the team's accomplishments this current season, given the difficulties the team faced at the beginning of the year. You expected to answer questions about your valuable contributions to the match and the squad, not some irrelevant, personal, stupid, phased, feelings that had nothing to do with football.

The lights were brighter than usual in the media room, you were riding a high after your incredible individual and team's performance. You couldn't stop smiling. Sitting in the media room alongside your captain Kim Little, you felt proud and finally content with yourself. You felt as if you were finally contributing to a team, a team that was winning. A distraction for the time being.

That is, until the question was asked.

You will never forget the way your stomach dropped at the question, the silence in the media room, the smirk on the reporters' face. He knew he struck a nerve as the colour drained from your face, you were no longer smiling. You're not sure why the question was asked or what value it had to the match you had just played, or above all - why this reporter was permitted into the the media room anyway asking such inconceivable questions.

You shook your head awaking from the absolute shock and audacity of the reporter. There is no way this is really happening right now. You were media trained - you got this. Totally.

'Could you please repeat the question?' You asked politely into the mic, besides the fact that your was voice now quiet and shaky as you squirmed in your seat, refusing to look at the reporter. He noticed your uneasy reaction, and pressed on, knowing there is more to what your letting on.

"Can you address the rumours within the women's football community that you currently have romantic feelings for your teammate, Alessia Russo?"

"What?! That's ridiculous. Next question."

Maybe you responded to that too quickly, way too quickly for it not to be suspicious as you dismissed him. To your knowledge, and last time you checked, you hadn't come out, you hadn't revealed how you felt about her to anyone - especially not Alessia, and you were certain someone as beautiful as her was taken - surely.....right?

Your throat was going to constrict, no doubt, your breathing becoming heavier and faster, your ears turning a bright red and your leg begins to bounce. Your eyes dart around the room. "How is this football related?" your captain Kim interjects, sensing your uncomfortable state as you fidget on the spot and find it hard to remain composed. She herself looks confused.

Both your heart and mind race. Who told them? How do they know? Where did they even think of something like that? They can't know. Does Alessia know?

You were widely aware that this post-game press conference was currently live. This didn't make the situation better. "Is there really nothing going on? You seem pretty flustered. Besides, you didn't deny it did you?" He smirked, a chorus of chuckles emerging from around the room.

"Stop instigating." The words pour out of your mouth defensively before you can stop them, let alone even comprehend what is going on. You can hear your heart beat in your ears.

"I'm not instigating anything, just trying to get the truth out of you. Why don't you start being honest? Show the world who you really are."

Your body shakes with frustration and panic, you can't do this anymore. You rush out of the media room, holding back tears of frustration. This is absolutely ridiculous you think to yourself, barging open the door of the locker-room, ignoring the looks from your teammates.

Silence fills the room, you look up at the locker room’s television, seeing Kim still in the media room - the broadcast was indeed live. Shit. Alessia, along with everyone else in the room definitely saw it. Shit. You freeze up.

Steph, your Aussie teammate turns to you "Hey, are you okay?" You refuse to say anything - afraid your voice might crack, further revealing your vulnerability. You refuse to make eye contact with anyone, especially Alessia. Steph senses the inner turmoil you’re enduring, and gestures everyone out of the locker-room.

You sit there with your head in your hands, as tears threaten to fall. You didn't reveal much in the post-match interview, so everything is fine right? But maybe thats the problem. You didn't deny anything technically - further exposing and embarrassing yourself and probably Alessia. You fail to notice she's still in the locker-room.

You look up slowly, locking eyes. Her ocean blue eyes bore into yours, a glimpse of concern and curiosity. "Can we talk?" She questions softly. Shit

"No thank you, I'd rather not." You say stubbornly, packing your wash bag quickly as she sits down next to you. You had to get out, you had to get away from her.

Alessia is surprised by your nonchalant response. "Lets just talk about this, please?" She says softly in a pleading voice, her eyes looking up, trying to lock with yours.

"I'm sorry." You say quietly, packing your bag and making your way towards the exit of the locker-room as fast as you can. You actually couldn't fathom that this was happening. Is this some sick joke?!

Alessia is concerned and saddened by your dismissive tone, she can tell that this whole situation has negatively affected you and is eating away at you. "Don't be sorry." She says softly, standing up. "It can be hard times, but I just want to understand whats going on. You clearly feel something. Something about me."

You stop in your tracks and turn around to face her, she makes her way towards you her eyes never leaving yours. Your heart aches, and she can see the adoration and the longing that you have for her in your eyes, behind internal conflict and self-hate.

"You're not a bad person. You know that I won't look at you differently." She whispers, pleading with you, trying to lock eyes with yours. "Please don't shut me out. I care about you, so much."

Alessia doesn't wait for a response. She steps closer to you now, closer the distance slowly. Your panting heavily, still refusing to look at her in the eyes, petrified you'd get lost in her ocean eyes. Terrified your eyes will reveal more than your words did in the press conference only moments ago. She can't feel the same. She doesn't.

She gently grabs your hand, interlocking your fingers with her ones. You feel as if you're going to have a heart attack, her touch sending bolts of electricity through your body. She can sense you're avoiding eye contact still.

"Hey, look at me" she whispers, staring at your now very flustered face, looking at you intently. Her eyes filled with concern, worry and something else, something you can't quite make out, something you've never seen from her before.

You still avoid her gaze, until she cups your cheek. You lock eyes with hers and you feel like you could die.

"just, look at me" she whispers once more, gently stroking your cheek bone with the pad of her thumb "thats it, just look at me."

Before you can stop yourself, the words fall out of your mouth in a whisper "i am. how can I not?" You let out a shaky breath at that, noticing her lips curl into a small smile, her eyes following your gaze down to her own lips.

"i know, I know you do, I see you" she whispers in response, moving closer to your face now, both your breaths mingling. Your heart continues to pound, her thumb gently traces your jawline, her eyes locked onto yours with an intensity you’ve never seen before.

Its as if time has stopped. Your heart is pounding so hard against your ribcage you might have a heart attack. But her presence, the way shes looking at you, her voice, her touch—it makes sense in ways you never expected.

And then, just as you think you can’t handle the intensity any longer, she leans in. Were you about to kiss the girl you've been in love with for so long now.....

[coffee-and-tea-time]

𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖ Out of the menu, still the choice ๋࣭ ⭑

Yandere! Shopkeeper x Willing! Reader

We finally got a winner! *Clap clap* if you want context, you can go here but it's not that necessary we think - the twins

This mf was really more hard to write that I expected but nevertheless we tried to match the energy of the seller pickers so at least it was really fun ngl - Coffee

It took us both a while to draft what we wanted to write for him since he's not a very expressive character and we wanted to try a more subtle approach. If you have any ideas or suggestions for any of them, let us know!! -Tea

Count word: 3.1k (new longest post for now)

Tw: yandere behavior, kind of flirty reader, stalking, kidnaping?, written in you/yours, overall soft yandere, gaslighting, drugging (this really still counts as soft yandere??? believe me, yes), light paranoia, clueless reader

Your eyes scan the papers in your hand, your mind still focused rather on the man that handed you them, sitting right across from him, more specifically, the comment he just murmured. None of the people he mentioned called your attention as much as himself did, perhaps he was more that he presented himself as? He seemed to know much more about you than he’s supposed to, so, was he a yandere as well? And if so, Why miss the chance to tease a potential yandere? 

"Huh, so you think I should go out more often?"

"Well, I'm just concerned about your vitamin D intake, that's all. You need more sun Dear, for the sake of your health"

He smugly smirks at you like he's saying obvious facts that you should already know about yourself… though his smirk falters, his lips pressing into a tight line as he rethinks his words, though it was too late to retract them, it was your time to shine.

"Oh? Then why not help me with that yourself? You seem to keep a good track of my time outside for some reason, care to explain yourself, Honey?"

You steal his previous smirk, it now decorating your lips, curving them upwards smugly as he seems to sink into himself, his pen flipping between his fingers as a nervous fidget, scanning your expression, seemingly trying to understand what you were attempting to do with these witty remarks.

“Dear, allow me to remind you, you came all the way here to have an obsessive partner after you walk out this door, I'm sure anyone in the list will love to fulfill the job, sadly, I'm not one of them, I'm deeply sorry if my previous comments left any space for this misunderstanding"

He seems to lifts up a wall between you and him with his formality as if attempting to keep things formal and cordial though his eyes tell a different story, his eyes, akin to a snake’s narrow slightly, scanning your features as if daring you to continue this charade; a sweet chill runs down your spine, which only widens your smile further.

"Ow, come on, there's no need to lie so blatantly to my face, you know exactly why I'm here, and for that I can also tell exactly what is happening here”

He huffs, his fingers running through his black hair, messing up his slick back hairstyle into something much more fitting to match with his semi-formal attire.

"As I just said, I'm not a yandere, let's stop this little game, Dear, I’m not sure how you arrived at this conclusion, little detective…"

Those gray eyes glare at you without even missing a beat, narrowing further to make a subtle warning: quit fooling around. Do you care? No, honestly, him staring down at you only serves to fuel your burning curiosity about the man.

"Fine then, at least answer me this, how did you know i don't go out much?"

The man scoffs as if the answer was as obvious as looking in a mirror.

"Come on now, you are chronically online, I just made a lucky guess"

… Gotcha

"My screen time is something even weirder for you to know for certain though, don't you think?"

A silence ensues, tension and realization thick in the air as his posture changes completely, from relaxed and smug to tense and anxious, he leans forward, eyes avoiding you suddenly, like he wasn't piercing you with his stare just a few seconds ago.

You let your question linger, knowing you won, knowing he had no way to protest your question seamlessly 

"... don't tell management"

It was now your turn to sigh. Perhaps he was being truthful and this was just a big misunderstanding. Maybe his “background check” on you wasn't something he was supposed to do ethically speaking, but something he felt compelled to do. Then again, they did have this incident with a fool attempting to illegitimately make a yandere harem. Perhaps it was time to let this go, you tried at least, but being overly pushy could get you kicked out and leaving empty handed wasn't something you were willing to do after finally finding the courage to enter the shop.

 "Well, I don't know, I choose Oliver"

You said, the smirk in your lips faltering into a soft defeated smile, shrugging as you chose someone at random, pointing blindly at the papers.

"He's already purchased" 

He counters your response abruptly, his tone still formal yet with an air of defensiveness. You wondered, if he was already purchased, then why show it to you at all?

"Damn, okay, then Lio…"

You quickly point again at a random profile, barely even reading the name then scanning his expression, his head shaking even before you managed to pronounce the name fully.

"Sorry"

He responded with a shrug, his shoulders relaxing as if the tension he felt before was gone.

You smile at him once again, well, thankfully you weren't just flirting with the wrong target.

"You’re doing this on purpose"

You announce, amused by the realization, a smile widening in your lips as one seems to simultaneously tug at the corners of his, a mischievous grin adorning his sly stare, those eyes bearing into yours like a wicked fox.

"You choose me, be loyal to your own decisions… though, really, don't tell management. I do maintain I'm not some sort of obsessed maniac, Dear"

That's the most suspicious thing a person can say in a yandere shop but you take it.

"I care next to nothing about management… so, it's a date?".

(...)

You leave the store, hands empty, but not really. You walk with an extra cheer in your step, you managed to get yourself a date with the seller of the damn shop, not one of the many names in those papers, but the shopkeeper, talk about a plot twist. 

And so you make your way back home, waiting for the time to arrive, the time in which you'd meet up with the man outside of work in a sweet little restaurant down the same street where the shop is located. As you get yourself ready, checking your outfit, double checking…triple checking, your mind drifts to your conversation with the seller and the way everything he said seemed to avoid each and every one of your questions skillfully. You managed to get his number with the excuse of arranging the meeting time and place, yet… that was all, you didn't even get his name, did you?. 

You are brought back to reality with the buzzing of your phone, a notification from an unknown number… though it was the sellers, how did he get your number? Sure, he gave you his, but he shouldn't have a way to contact you yet, that information wasn't even in the paperwork either since you never filled any forms out, you didn't purchase any of the yanderes. 

» “Hey, it's the shopkeeper”

You raised a brow at your screen, watching as the little dots bobbed up and down, indicating he was still typing another message

» “just checking if you're still up for this date you so boldly proposed. My shift is over” 

His texts are a little dry, yet you can feel the awkwardness from them already, he wasn't fooling anybody, he was nervous as hell. 

You quickly type up a response, resuming your teasing over text like you never left the shop and so you text back and forth until the time arrives and you leave your home, walking down the street to the restaurant he sent you the location to. Once you got there, amusement tugged your lips up into a smile. This man, acting so unapproachable, so closed off, was eagerly waiting outside the restaurant with that classic “I'm just looking at my phone” stance, but damn he looked good. 

He wasn't wearing that semi-formal suit from before, but rather a tight black shirt, jeans and a jacket. His hair was down and you had to admit, it looked way better that way. You check the time on your phone, you arrive just in time, you look relieved but can’t help but wonder how the seller managed to close up shop, go back home, change and arrive before you when his last text was just a few minutes ago telling you his shift was over.

“aw, you arrived early to meet me? It’s so cute how eager you are for someone who didn't even tell me his name”

You meet his gaze as you approach him with a playful demeanor, his smile still decorating his face as always.

He huffs, glancing up from his phone, his eyes crinkling in a mischievous grin. He pockets his phone and adjusts his jacket, leaning a little closer as he speaks

“Oh, Dear, you got it all wrong, i just got here, but, i must say…waiting would have been worth it, you look stunning” 

He said with a soft chuckle and you nudged his shoulder in response to his compliment, though as you nudge him you feel how cold his jacket is, of course he didn't wait for you

“Right, anyways, you know, it's only fair that I get your name. I know you so desperately want to seem all mysterious and shit, but i need to know who I'm flirting with”

You tease bluntly with a chuckle, he tenses up a little, looking away for a second, trying to disguise his blush by rolling his eyes at you.

“I suppose you could call me Jade…”

“Well, jade, pleasure to meet you”

You said trying to imitate his tone of voice as he guides the way inside the restaurant.

“Since I answered your question, it's only fair you answer mine, don't you agree?"

His gaze seems like he's taking notes of your every expression as he gently pulls a chair for you to sit on before he sits across from you.

"Are we doing a little bit of banter here? Huh, that's quite the contrary of what you been doing all day, but please, go on, I'm thrilled to know what you wish to know of me"

His eyes move to the menu, although you can say his entire focus was still on you… because of the fact he can't possibly read the menu when it's upside down.

"So, if I may ask… why did you choose to flirt with me when you came to the shop to get yourself a yandere?"

"Why not? You could say I went there to find someone that catches my eye, and jokes on you, my eyes were set on you the moment you opened that door to guide me into the store"

You restrain yourself not to giggle like a fool when the top of his ears turns red while he's attempting to keep his perpetually smiling facade, oblivious to his own reaction to your words.

"Then, do yo-"

His words quickly die on his throat as a waiter gets to your table, you didn't have the time to catch the small twitch of his eyebrows that lasted a second.

"Good evening, I will be your server for the night, what can I get started for you two?"

As you two order normally, you can't help but feel a sense of discomfort as the waiter always speaks focusing his eyes on you, but Jade doesn't seem to react so you dismissed it, you're only feeling weird because of the awkwardness of being on a first date, although you can't help but sigh faintly with relief after the server walks away.

"Well… anyways, since I replied to one of your questions, guess it's my turn!"

You said smiling, trying to brush off the weird feeling you just had, focusing on your task in hand: the date.

“so, why don’t you tell me a little about your hobbies?”

You gaze at him while his head tilts slightly, as if doubting if to reply or just dodge the question like the past ones.

“Well, they differ depending on the time, I’m the type of person that get a new one every once in a while but one that has stuck since high school is embroidery”

Honestly, you can picture it, he does seem like the type of person who enjoys calm classy hobbies, old lady hobbies if you will. The image is sort of endearing. 

"Since high school? Wow, what was your first piece?"

You feel relieved that he seems more open to conversation now that you both are formally on this date. Sadly for you and lucky for him, you focused so much on listening to his answers that you didn't catch the small blush dusting his cheeks.

"...It was a skull, edgy, I know. I really like how it turned out back then though”

“A skull? Very edgy indeed, why-”

Your question was left hanging in the air as an arm interfered with your vision of Jade, the waiter placing your plates on the table with a polite smile. The interjection was a little awkward, but there's not much you can do about it, the waiter is just doing his job.

Though as you lower your voice to a stop, interrupted by the waiter, you see the slight hint of annoyance in Jade’s face flick for a second just to disappear like it never happened, it makes you wonder if that was a hint of jealousy? It probably wasn't… your yandere rotten brain must be seeing things, right?

As you two indulge in conversation, enjoying your little date, you almost lose track of time. It feels like in the blink of an eye, the date was already at its final point, the only thing that popped your bubble was his phone ringing.

"...sorry, it's my boss, allow me to step out real quick, it won't take long I'm sure"

You nod to him before he makes his way to the restroom to pick up the call. Honestly you feel kind of sad that the dinner was reaching its end but well, you can't be that clingy on the first date.

As you ponder between when and where the perfect second date will be or if it's best to wait for him to ask for another, the waiter interrupts your thoughts, placing a glass of what looks like raspberry juice on the table.

"Excuse me sir, I didn't order this"

The waiter gives you a puzzled expression as if it were a competition who is more confused by the situation but is quick to giggle as if it was an inside joke of his before reassuring you.

"Oh, don't worry, it's already been paid”

You didn't have time to ask further questions when the busy server was already on another table that needed him, well, it looks tasty anyways, why reject something when it's free?

You honestly feel like luck is on your side today; you got the confidence to try and flirt with Jade and successfully get yourself a really good date! And you also get a free drink as a way to celebrate your little achievement, so you take a big gulp. 

Huh? Weird, you know the taste of raspberry by heart, why does it taste more bitter? Ugh, the fruit is probably not that fresh , even the consistency feels a little thicker too. Well, raspberry juice is supposed to be like that, perhaps you got too used to store bought and got yourself confused.

"Well, is not like a restaurant would sell 'expired juice' as their main drink, surely I'm just overthinking it" 

You reason with yourself in a whisper as you set the drink aside, ugh, maybe you drank too big of a sip, you start to feel like you got brain freeze or something.

(…)

“Dear, are you feeling well? Do you need to go to the restroom?”

The sound of his relaxed voice quickly fills your ears, your mind feels hazy but you nevertheless try focusing on him as he sits back down to the table, catching his expression changing from the usual laid back grin to a worried frown. You didn't even notice when he came back from his work call, not until he was right in front of you, it's like time passed while your brain was stopped, something wasn't good…

"Did something happen? Do you need a pain-killer? Did the food upset your stomach?"

The rapid fire questions overfill your already overwhelmed mind as his hands hold your shoulders before he places his forehead against yours to check your temperature and although you tried, your currently unstable self only managed to hardly mumble some words.

"I… don't know, I just drank that"

You focus your gaze on the glass of juice and he follows your gaze with a frown as if his laid back mask is cracked.

"the color is slightly off and ice is only floating up to the middle of the glass…"

Was there really something wrong with your drink? What was in there? How bad is it? What's going to happen to you? Was it the waiter? Was there someone in the restaurant you didn't see? Why is this happening today?

"Dear, focus on me, okay? Don't worry, you're fine, just dizzy, I will make sure you are okay, alright? Take a deep breath for me darling" 

Through your dizziness you watch as he moves skillfully and quickly, paying the bill as fast as he could to take you out of there, his arms tightly wrapped around you to steady your wobbly stance, guiding you out of the busy restaurant. It's almost as if you were drunk, which didn't make sense, you felt yourself slipping further out of your senses, sounds muffled and your vision blurry, your legs and hands feeling tingly with each step you took with his assistance. 

"Jade, I-"

"Don't worry Dear, I will take care of you, just trust me, alright?"

You can help but feel grateful that even in this awful situation, you managed to have someone so gentle and caring with you, but before you can try to babble a thank you, you feel your mind shut off like an old tv… don't worry, you are being taken care of, Dear.

He just wants to look after you, it would be so creepy if he left you unconscious at your place since he's not supposed to know your address yet, so, guess the only choice is him letting you crash at his apartment, it's fine, you will find yourself at home there, it's really cozy! 

. . .

Wait, did you really believe him? That's kind of hilarious, try guessing again.

sorry for any misspellings or weird sentence structure ❣

images from pinterest and divider by Tea ⚘

[shouts-into-the-void]

Just read screenshots of the Aaron extra chapter and I have so many thoughts, so here they are:

It's always so funny to me to be reminded of the fact that the animosity between Aaron and Neil is mostly one-sided. Like, Neil finds Aaron frustrating, but all the antagonistic stuff he does to him is ultimately in service of helping him in some way and while he's angry when Aaron provokes him, he otherwise regards him with disinterest and even expresses the desire to see what he's like when he's relaxed and enjoying himself during the party with the Vixens. Meanwhile Aaron just really hates that man.

I really appreciated Nora using this chapter to clear up some of the gripes a lot of the fandom has had with Aaron's character in the past and confirm that Aaron's comments to Nicky have to do with his cousin making graphic and unwanted sexual advances on their teammates, and his accusations towards Neil were from a place of concern for his brother. I also liked that it was pointed out that of course he would have at least some internalized homophobia due to being raised by religious zealots in a conservative area, but is unlearning it due to Nicky.

On a similar note, I'm glad that we were provided the context that Nicky's inappropriate behavior is a defense mechanism to weed out people who might hurt him rather than legitimate advances, because I think the fandom tends to forget that he is also a character with extreme trauma written outside of the "perfect victim" stereotype. His actions aren't okay, but the entire point is that they are the result of what he's had to endure just like every other member of the team

The implication that Andrew specifically signed with the Foxes so Aaron could go to college

Aaron and Andrew have the same nervous habit of picking at loose thread

It causes me physical pain to see Andrew clearly trying to open up to Aaron about his self-harm, but because his way of communicating is less straightforward (he doesn't lie, but he because he stuggles to confront and be open with his emotions, he presents the truth in flowery, vague language) and because the two dont really know or understand each other, Aaron can't fully grasp the implications of what he's saying

On the subject of things that cause me physical pain: baby Aaron telling his mom that he wanted to be a neurosurgeon like the people on TV and her laughing and saying he'd never make anything of himself. Fuck Tilda Minyard, all my homies hate Tilda.

Andrew is so uncomfortable, someone Get Him Out of There.

Going off that and his nervous habits (that Aaron mentions he did often enough to be noticable as a habit premedication), I am highkey wondering if the reason Sober Andrew doesn't talk to anyone outside Neil is because he's just. Socially Awkward.

We get a little bit of insight into Andrew's "misogyny" (I personally think distrusting certain people as a result of extreme personal trauma is a little bit different than just being sexist, in the same way women distrusting men because they're used to being harassed and belittled isn't misandry, but that's up to your personal opinion) and that his distain for Katelyn comes from the fact that he thinks she's stringing Aaron along and will turn out to be awful like his previous girlfriends (there's also a notable implication that Aaron has the same self-destructive tendencies as Andrew, and may be why he went out of his way to get him into college and on the straight-and-narrow) also see that this extends to Bee as well despite their close relationship, with him being so afraid that she'd reject him for being gay that he can't even look at her while talking about Neil, probably made worse by the fact that she's a maternal figure for him, which is where this trauma response originates.

Aaron is the only person on the team who's aware that Andrew hasn't slept with Neil, and the only one to grasp the significance of the fact that they've gotten close to that point already despite Andrew's trauma, outside of Renee

It was overall really interesting to see inside Aaron's head (I actually wouldn't mind a book from his perspective, he has a similar way of thinking to Neil but much more grounded) and to see Andrew through the lense of someone who just views him as Just A Guy

[kamiversee]

➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

✧.* CHAPTER 55 || The Filth

[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?

[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ just... just filthy smut okay.

[ { A/N } ] ➤ Another chapter written as I was in heat btw. ;)

[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 6.7k

[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.

[ [ chapters mlist } ]

——AND ALTHOUGH CHOSO’S PERFECT for you, after about a week of dating, you’re ninety-nine percent sure he-, your boyfriend has a damn switch inside him. Something in him would just shift into this man whose mouth became so damn filthy with you.

Was it bad that you enjoyed it too? You think it was something about it being unexpected as to why your cunt was dripping like crazy as Choso’s cock slid down your throat.

He wasn’t mean to you during the day or anything. As stated before, Choso was perfect and as your boyfriend, he was even better than perfect somehow. He was such a gentleman, so kind and careful with you, attentive, understanding, and just a giant walking green flag.

Now, after seven days of dating the man, you have addressed his possessiveness and tendency to get jealous over the smallest things— which he promises to work on just for you. Choso would do anything for you so something as simple as changing the way he thinks or feels about certain things was nothing to him.

But, all that greatness aside, during sex he was different. And god damn you were not ready for it. You’d think after sleeping with Choso countless times before, things wouldn’t really change when you were dating but… something had changed, he had changed.

Hence why it’s suspected that there’s a literal switch in his head because something just flipped as you tried to surprise him with a little reward for being such a wonderful boyfriend. The night of your date, neither of you had sex so it’d been a while since you slept with him-, weeks since you slept with him.

Even so, you didn’t recall Choso’s mouth being this filthy with you? Nor do you remember him being so… in control. Usually, midway through sex Choso would let you have your way with him or things would go the other way around, either way, dominance was an off-and-on thing.

But tonight? Oh dominance was all the way on and you had nothing to prepare you for it. And Choso’s sex drive was through the roof for some reason too…

Anyway, you think it’s because of your little surprise. Maybe you should be more careful the next time you decide to wear lingerie for your boyfriend…

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

But, as stated before, nothing could’ve prepared you for him. Hence why you stood in the bathroom of his apartment minutes before that all happened, checking yourself to make sure you looked good. 

It was yet another Friday night and you’d been back and forth to Choso’s place these past few days. The semester had started up again but since it was the early weeks, school wasn’t too harsh yet, nothing but introductory assignments and small tasks here and there.

Even so, you stood looking in the mirror toying with the strap of your vibrant red shaded bra that lay beneath the baggy white shirt on your body— the shirt being Choso’s of course. 

You did have on sweatpants but since you wanted to surprise him, you quickly rid yourself of those and you were going to reveal the lingerie set to your boyfriend by stripping yourself of his shirt in front of him. He’ll love this, you thought to yourself with a slight smile on your face.

Mhm, you had it all planned out. You were about to go into his room, not-so-innocently see what he’s doing, tease him a bit, and ultimately have sex with him for the first time since you started dating. In your head, you thought Choso would want to take it slow with you and make love with you so that’s kinda why you bought lingerie.

And even if he didn’t want to take things slow and lovingly, you wouldn’t complain if he tore you out of the pricey fabric and completely ruined you.

All those thoughts aside though, as you finally walked out of the bathroom, your feet lightly walking over the hallway floor whilst you sneakily made your way to his bedroom, you couldn’t wait to see the look on his face. Would he blush at the sight of you? Or would he shower you with compliments instantly?

You soon approach his room, the door wide open and the light seeping out into the hallway you walked through. In Choso’s head, you were supposed to be in his living room right now watching TV— that being the last thing you told him you were gonna do a few hours ago.

Your head popped around the corner of his door frame to get a peek into his room only to find Choso’s back to you as he sat at the art desk in his room. A smile spread across your face as you noticed a pencil in one hand and his other laid against a piece of paper.

Slowly, you slipped into his room as quietly as possible and crept up behind him. Once you stood directly behind the man, you took a peek over his shoulder and saw he was sketching some kinda design. After a second of admiring his progress, you raised your hands up and covered his eyes gently before moving to his ears.

“Guess who?” You whisper playfully.

Choso’s hand stops mid pencil-stroke and he smiles. The fact that he didn't even flinch or seem phased by your sudden presence made you think he heard you or something, “Guess who? Well, I’m hoping you’re my wonderful girlfriend…” He replies.

You keep your hands over his eyes, “Wronggg,” You tease.

He chuckles, “Wrong? Okay, thennn… my amazing girlfriend,” Choso corrects, to which you snicker, “Orrr, my beautiful girlfriend. Playful girlfriend? Or, y’know, maybe all of the above and the woman I love.”

Taking your hands off his eyes, you pull away from his ear and his head turns to you. You giggle, “That’s a lot of girlfriends you have…”

“Nono, that’s all my one and only girlfriend,” He says, playing into your joke.

You narrow your eyes tauntingly, “Yeah? She sounds like a handful.”

“Ehh,” Choso shrugs a little, “She’s my handful and I love her just the way she is.”

His words make your smile widen before you lean in and plant a small kiss on his lips. Choso reciprocates the action, grinning against you as he does so. After the small kiss, you pull away and glance down at what he was doing before you interrupted.

“What’s that for?” You ask curiously.

Choso follows your gaze down to his sketch and he sighs, “It’s for one of my classes,” He hums.

You blink, “How? The semester just started…”

“Well, this is due later on but I just wanted to get an idea or two out on paper,” He explains, “Did you need somethin’ though? If so, I can stop.”

You chuckle a little, “I just wanted to see what you were doing,” You tell him innocently as you stand up, “But, I do also have a little surprise for you…” Your words come out in a mischievous hum and you start to back away from where he’s seated.

Choso began to spin his chair around slowly, “Oh? What kinda surprise?”

His head turns before the rest of his body and you watch his eyes drop to your frame, scanning the way his shirt looks hanging off you so loosely. Choso can’t help but smirk when he finds that the white fabric of the top stops just at the start of your thighs— having not even paid attention to the obvious bright red beneath the shirt you wore.

He always gets distracted when you wear his shirt, always torn between wanting to cuddle you in it and wanting to fuck you in it. But, after his few seconds of studying you, your hands go to the bottom of the shirt and his eyes widen as you start lifting it up.

“I’m not sure if you’re into this kinda thing but,” You say casually as you pull his shirt up and off your body, revealing the red lingerie set you purchased just for him. “Well… Surprise,” You hum sweetly, tossing his shirt off to the side and looking at your boyfriend.

Choso blinks once. Then twice, then a third time. He’d yet to turn his chair to you fully, stopping about halfway so, his body was facing your right but his head was turned to you and his eyes were… his eyes were everywhere.

First, they dropped to your crotch and you could hear the way he swallowed, studying the vibrant fabric on your skin and how it looked on you. Then, Choso’s gaze lifted to your torso and he smiled for only a second— you wish you knew what he was thinking. Second to last, he looks at your tits, and fuck does that lingerie set make them look good.

Choso clears his throat and, ultimately, his eyes find their way back to your face after a long moment. When you meet his gaze, you see how lidded his eyes have become and no smile or words is coming from him yet so you wonder if he even likes it.

Oh, he liked it alright-, loved it even. It took one little glance at you and his cock was twitching like crazy. His hips shifted in his seat ever so slightly, the tip of his dick leaking pre in reaction to you. The effect you had on your poor boyfriend was insane.

Tilting your head, you swing your hands behind your back, “Cho? Do you-”

“Come here,” Choso says, his voice low.

Oh. A chill slipped down your spine with the way his words came out. His eyes were so intense on yours and you almost didn’t move.

Choso raises a brow when he notices you froze and he spins his chair around to face you. Leaning back and parting his legs, “Baby, I said come here,” He emphasizes as his gaze grows more serious and stern with you.

Your feet began to move and you brought your hands in front of you, slightly nervously playing with your fingers as you approached him. Then, you stopped just about one step away from him and Choso sighed.

“Closer,” He orders, spreading his thighs further apart so that you have enough space to stand in between them.

When did your body grow so hot? Or maybe that’s because of him… Seeing as your eyes dropped down to his crotch, you couldn't help but find it attractive the way he manspread right in front of you, gray sweatpants clung to his body so nicely-

Choso suddenly starts leaning to sit up and your eyes and body jump when his hand creeps toward you. He reaches to your hip, and your hip only, hooking a single finger beneath the strap of your panties and tugging you toward him. Your feet shuffle against his carpet floor and come to a stop when you stand in between his legs.

Your boyfriend unhooks his finger and his hand caresses your hip for a second before the touch slips off and he leans back again.

You swallow, “Well? Do… Do you like it-“

“Shut up,” Choso suddenly says, your lips zipping closed instantly. “Don’t say a word, princess. Just uh,” His hand raises to his face and he wipes his mouth before rubbing his jaw a bit, eyes down on your body again, “Just lemme’ process… this.”

You nod a little, still keeping quiet as he just studies you. You really wish you could read minds because you damn sure couldn’t read his facial expression. If only you knew about the things going on in that man’s head right now.

Choso never knew himself to have this much patience and self-control because he definitely had half a mind to toss you on his bed and fuck you long and hard enough to have this same expensive fabric covered in his cum. His mind was hazed with the idea of it, the idea of watching his cum slip down your body, against the lingerie, and maybe even out of you.

“Turn around,” Choso breathes out after a minute or two. 

His words make you stiffen, “Wha-“

Choso looks up at your eyes, “Turn. Around.” He repeats, his voice low.

You swallow down your nerves and turn slowly, soon facing away from your boyfriend and having your back to him.

“Mh,” You hear Choso hum, then there’s a slight creak as he leans forward in his chair, “Now bend over.”

Your eyes go wide and you look over your shoulder and back to him, “What? Choso-“

“You heard me,” He claims, “I said bend over. Don’t make me say it again.”

You gulp and then release a long breath of air before facing forward again. Then, you tip your torso forward and bend over just as he’s asked you to.

Choso nods his head and his hand moves to tap the outer side of your thigh, “Good girl,” He praises, words going straight to your core, “Now spread your legs a bit so you’re not uncomfortable.”

No matter how you spread your legs, you were going to feel awkward bent over in front of him like this. “C-Choso-“

His hand goes to your ass and he suddenly slaps it, making you flinch and your eyes go wide. “What.” He says, sounding almost irritated.

You gulp, “Why… Why do you want me to-“

“Needed’ a closer look,” He cuts off, his hand rubbing over the same area of your ass he just slapped as if to soothe you. Then, his palm shifts, and his fingers trace against the outline of your panties, sliding down and down and down until he takes his hand off you.

There’s a moment of stillness and silence before Choso’s thumb makes contact with your clothed cunt, slipping against the fabric of your panties and in between your folds— the contact makes your lips part and a breathy sum of air leaves you.

“Cho,” You whisper, to which he smirks.

“Hm?” Choso hums, feeling your cunt twitch beneath the fabric in between his finger and you.

You swallow, “You never uh… You never said if you liked it or not,” You point out shyly.

He nods even though you can’t see him, halfway processing your words as the slick sound of his thumb sliding against your cunt distracts him. 

“Damn baby, the fuck did you get so wet from?” Choso asks, voice deeper and lower with you. He feels how your pussy squirms against his thumb and he smirks, “Ohhh, me? You got this wet from me, princess?” He asks.

Though, it didn’t sound like he was talking to you?

Choso’s thumb rolls a circle over your sex and you start to bring your legs close together again, to which he scoffs and moves his free hand to one of your thighs, prohibiting you from moving anymore. His thumb then hooks over and onto the fabric of your panties and he pulls at them, a slip of air brushing over your wet cunt for a moment before he releases the fabric and allows it to slap over you.

He then takes both of his hands and places them on your thighs before pulling you back a bit more and leaning his face forward. You start to turn your head back as best you could but all movement comes to a halt when his lips press into you.

Then… Then it’s his tongue. Choso’s pierced tongue slides in between your folds and he licks a stripe against you and your panties, not even bothering to move them aside just yet.

You inhale sharply, “Choso-,”

His lips cup your cunt and he hums against you, fingers gripping onto your outer thighs as he does so. “You put this on f’me?” Choso mumbles into you slowly.

“Uhuh,” You breathe out.

He pulls his head away from your sex and licks what little of your taste he got off his lips. Choso smirks and then pries his hands off your body, leaning back into his seat and rolling his hips up to comfort himself.

“Turn to me,” He requests, moving a single hand over his crotch and palming his erection. He was struggling so hard to control himself.

How was he supposed to react to this? His pretty girlfriend coming to him in a lingerie set to surprise him? Fuck, the thought alone made his cock ache. Choso swore he was about to moan when he first laid eyes on you.

And here you are now, turning to face him again with that innocent little look on your face. You had no idea what you were doing to him, did you? How crazy you drove him? Choso found it cute that you were clueless as to what he had planned for you tonight.

He didn’t even have to say anything and you were already getting down on your knees, leaning toward him and replacing his hand with yours to palm his cock through his sweats. Your eyes went wide at how painfully hard he was. It seems you got your answer as to whether or not he liked it…

Choso sighs heavily as his eyes settle on your dainty hand running over his dick print, feeling the way your fingers rubbed over him and needing to suck his lower lip into his mouth to conceal a groan.

“Baby,” Choso mutters, his breathing grown heavy already, “Are you gonna’ tease me all night or are you gonna suck me off?”

You smirk at his impatience and tilt your head as you lift your gaze up to his face, “Someone’s bossy tonight…”

He scoffs, “Shut up, you like it.”

You roll your eyes at him and slip your hand up to his waistband, tauntingly running your fingers beneath it and feeling against his tense skin, “I dunno Cho… This isn’t like you.” You hum.

Choso stares down at you, “Well how else am I supposed to react to my girlfriend wearing lingerie for me?” He replies sassily, “You look so fuckin’ pretty in it ‘nd jus’ lookin’ at you got me so damn hard.”

You start tugging his sweats down and he lifts his hips to assist you, watching with hooded eyes as your hands move agonizingly slow toward his briefs. 

Choso couldn’t take it anymore. As pretty as you looked on your knees and moving so teasingly for him, he quite literally couldn’t take it— quickly reaching his hands down and tugging his cock out with a heavy sigh leaving him.

You blink as you gather the sight of his dick in front of you— so big and veiny, leaky tip just begging for your attention. You couldn’t help but watch in a daze as Choso wrapped his fingers around his shaft and gave himself a few strokes, his low-lidded eyes locked onto the sight of you watching him.

He groans out your name and your cunt flutters around nothing at the sound. Choso’s voice had to have dropped at least two octaves because it was so damn low and deep with you all of a sudden, heavy with arousal and need for you.

You flick your eyes up to his face and jump at the sight of his gaze on you already. He looked so intimidating.

Then, Choso moves his free hand to the top of your head and urges your face closer to his cock, nodding his chin down to your mouth, “Open.” He orders.

You were left wanting to tease him about his neediness and wanting to obey his every command at the same time. Ultimately, your mouth opens for the man and you keep your eyes on his.

Choso heaves out a pant and parts his thighs all the more further before angling his cock into your mouth. The second his flushed and dripping tip slips over your tongue, you go to lick him and wrap your lips around his member— an instant and guttural groan leaving his throat.

His hand leaves his shaft and yours quickly replaces it as you focus your mouth on his tip. You slick your tongue through the slit of his cock and Choso’s brows tense in satisfaction, “Mmgh… hah, fuck.” He breathes, tipping his head back against his chair.

You tilt your hand and start sucking on only the tip of his cock, the rest heavy and twitching in your hand as you start to pump his length. He bucks up into your touch a little and scoffs.

“Princess,” Choso calls out lowly, “Your throat, take my cock down your throat,” He directs.

And, naturally, you listen to him and start to take him into your mouth. A lustful smile spreads across his face as he feels himself enter the warmth and wetness of your mouth, hissing at the way your tongue slicks over the underside of his cock.

You felt him twitch in your mouth and you swore he was getting impossibly harder, veins pulsing against your tongue as you sucked on him carefully. 

Your head bobs up and down a few times before the sound of Choso’s voice makes you moan around him, “Deeper, princess, deeper.” He instructs again, to which you take more of his inches into your mouth and hum around him, “Yeahhhh, fuck, that’s it.” Choso moans.

You pull off him slowly for barely even a second, only to bring your mouth right back down and suck him off eagerly.

The sound of his slight pants was causing you to pool in your panties as you bobbed your head up and down and took him in and out of your mouth. Normally, Choso wasn’t much of a talker when you gave him head— he’d usually just groan and moan.

But tonight? Oh tonight was much different. This is exactly why you moan again when he whines a little as he speaks, “Uhuh, suck my cock jus’ like that baby…” Choso urges.

You start to lift your head again but his hand suddenly shifts into your hair and pushes you right back down, “C’mon, go all the way down, princess,” He utters, “Show me how you use that tongue-,” He’s cut off when you suck him in deeper and your tongue gets dangerously close to his base, “Mhm, y-yeahh… there you go…”

There’s been numerous times you’ve sucked Choso off and yet, you still struggled to take him all the way in sometimes. Just barely would his tip knock into the back of your throat here and there but in the end, his cock was just so much bigger than your mouth. 

And there he was, sitting with a hand over your head and his fingers curling into your hair as he started to guide you through it. Up and down, Choso watched in a daze as your mouth sucked on his cock, head bobbing so cutely below him.

His shaft was covered in a messy mix of your saliva and his precum, your movements steadily growing sloppier in a way you knew he liked.

Choso grits his teeth when you suddenly dip all the way down, your nose making light contact with his pelvis and his dick pressing into the back of your throat as you relax it just to take him all the way in. 

“Hahh… S-So fuckin’ tight, shit…” He groans, “All this f’me?” Choso asks, his hand carefully pulling you up only a little just to force your mouth right back down, “Wearin’ lingerie, suckin’ my dick like… like a fuckin’ slut, for what?”

Your eyes flickered back and you whimpered out a moan against his cock in reaction to him suddenly degrading you. He’s never done that before— Choso’s never called you anything like that but god damn it made you so stupidly horny.

“Hm?” Choso hums as he lifts your head up and allows you a chance to breathe, “What’s all this for, huh?”

You clear your throat and then swallow, licking your lips as you make eye contact with him, “F-For bein’ such a good boyfriend.”

The corner of Choso’s lips quirk into a slight smirk, “Yeah? This is what I get for bein’ good to you?”

You nod, “Mhm…”

“So, I treat you like you should be treated and in return,” Choso tilts his head and flashes that slight but sexy lazy smile of his, “My girlfriend turns into a lil’ slut f’me?”

He sees on your face how flustered his question got you and the way you’re looking up at him was driving him insane— Choso swore he was seconds away from releasing all over your expression.

He moves a hand to his cock and shifts to tap your lips with his tip, “Hm? Answer me, baby.” Choso requests.

You nod, “Y-Yeah.”

“Yeah? So if that’s the case then,” He smirks again, “I can treat you like one, right?”

“Uhuh,” You nod again, more eagerly this time.

You were so cute. Choso removes his hand from your head and suddenly stands to his feet, causing you to shuffle back on your knees a bit so there’s room.

“Y’know,” Choso grunts a bit as he starts fisting his cock in quick pulls, “I didn’t realize you liked bein’ degraded this much, princess.”

You swallow, “I like it when you degrade me.”

Choso bites his lower lip, “Oh yeah?”

Your thighs draw together in a slight attempt at giving yourself some kind of relief, “Mhm..”

He tilts his head and his strokes grow faster and rougher, “Alright then, open your mouth f’me again ‘nd jus’ sit there lookin’ pretty while I fuck your throat,” Choso breathes out.

Your jaw is quick to drop for him and you lean closer, lips parted for the man as you keep your eyes up on his. One of his hands goes to the top of your head and the other maneuvers his length into your mouth, quickly and roughly thrusting his hips forward and making you gag around him.

“Mmgh-,” He hums deeply, the vibration of you gagging around him so suddenly making his body twitch, “Fuck that felt good… hah, you’re gonna’ make me cum…”

With only one hand atop your head, Choso starts to fuck his cock into your mouth. You just sit there and let him use you like a pretty cocksleeve, moaning and gagging each time he pushes in a bit deeper than you could handle. At some point, he slows for a second and the hand on your head forces you to move.

Back and forth and back and forth, Choso has you gulping and sucking on his cock so messily. Saliva began to escape from the corners of your lips and sloppy wet sounds filled his room along with his groans.

“Faster baby, c’mon…” He urges.

You try your best to suck him off in quicker pulls, tongue rolling and lulling all over his dick and even tracing against his veins. 

Choso whines a little, “Yeahh… keep goin’, fuuuck…” He starts panting again and he grunts, “Fuckin’ slut-,” He chokes out, “Makin’ me feel so good…”

“Mmh,” You hum against him as your eyes grow teary.

“Yeah? My slutty girlfriend, fuck. Baby,” He moans lightly, “I’m gonna fuck you so hard after this.”

You choke around his cock, realizing he plans on going at it all night.

Choso’s member twitches inside your mouth and you can tell he’s close as his voice starts to pitch, “Pretty pussy deserves some attention too, doesn’t she?” He asks you in a husk tone, “Not jus’ your mouth… Gotta’ fuck your cunt too, feel her’ squeeze ‘round me for hours… hahhh, ahh… m’gonna cum jus’ thinkin’ about it-,” His words die out as a pornographic moan leaves his lips.

You’re dizzy and cockdrunk at this point and Choso’s back to just thrusting and thrusting into you, getting fucked out by the messy feeling of your throat and the sounds of your choking and gagging.

“M’gonna cum,” Choso whimpers, “Y-You’re so fuckin’ loud ‘nd messy baby, makin’ me cum so quickly like this…”

Quickly? Just how long was he planning to use your throat like this?

With another groan, Choso pulls out of your mouth and jerks himself off quickly enough to drive him over the edge— the slick and sloppy sounds of his movements filling your ears just moments before he releases all over your face and the upper half of your torso. Ultimately, his cum lands all over you and especially on the lingerie just like he wanted.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

And as he said, moments later he had you on his bed sobbing and moaning into his sheets— panties pulled to the side as he fucked you down into the mattress.

With a hand on your head and the other forcing your back to arch further for him, Choso was pounding his heavy cock into you like there was no tomorrow. You were so wet when this started that he didn’t need to prep you for anything and every inch of him slid into you perfectly.

“Fuckin’ pussy was made to take my cock,” Choso groaned out to you, “Right baby? That’s all you’re meant to do right? Jus’ take cock for hours ‘nd hours ‘nd never get tired?”

His words were driving you insane, cunt gushing and fluttering around his cum covered member. You came so much already and your legs were quivering below the man.

Nodding dumbly into the sheets, you couldn’t even think straight more, “Yeahhh…ah-, fuck… Choso-, ha-ahh…” You moaned, fingers curling into his bed sheets as if to brace yourself.

The hand on your back slid down your arch and against your spine until he got to your ass and smacked it, grunting at the sound and the sight of his hand having left a mark on your skin. The rest of your body was decorated in hickeys, bite marks, his cum— everything. The man had you ruined as someone else once had you before.

The two of you had been in almost every position by now, and in each one Choso was so mean and aggressive with you. He was so deep inside you, burying his cock to the hilt of your cunt as you whined and whimpered.

From you’re takin’ me so well baby to such a good slut f’me, keep ridin’ me jus’ like that—don’t fuckin’ stop, Choso’s mouth was just on a roll with you today. One moment it’s praise and the next he’s telling you how his cum makes you look ten times better and that sluts like you needa’ be covered in it. 

Sometimes he was just babbling and other times he was fully serious with what he said, especially when he was able to groan his words into your ear. Choso told you how you were his slut, his good girl, and that only he gets to fuck you to this point.

That point being where you’re trying to reach a hand back and push him away or get him to slow down as his pelvis crashes into your ass and his balls smack against your puffy clit over and over again. You were so out of it but he didn’t care.

That bra of yours that you wore for him was gone, somewhere in his room decorated in his cum and even broken. Your panties were all you had on and Choso’s fingers hooked around them to keep them pulled to the side to rut into you properly.

He stared at the fabric and how it looked straining against your skin due to his tugs, the item sure to leave even more marks on your body.

Choso himself wasn't even spared from the marks. His back had been clawed earlier when the two of you were in missionary and his shoulders and arms had more scratches from when he forced you to bounce on his cock. He had a hickey or two but you didn’t really get much time to leave them on him since he was far too in control.

In one night, you experienced so much with this man— from him choking you while his hips snapped into you, to his fingers shoved deep into your mouth as he told you to shut up and take his cock, and even to him biting your shoulder while forcing your hips back on him.

Choso loved you, yes. But he also loved fucking you like a man who hadn’t had sex for months— which was true, he hadn’t had sex since Christmas so, it was almost another two months he went without you.

He fucked you at such an animalistic pace too, just pounding and pounding into you for hours. All this over some lingerie… You could only imagine how he’d be under different circumstances— how feral the man would become.

Choso was so addicted to the way your body felt against his and you even learned something new about him— he apparently has a thing for your thighs.

At some point into the night, after squirting all over his cock at least five times in a row and nearly passing out on him, you were obviously tired but he wanted to keep going. Each time his dick went down, he’d simply look at you and that damn red fabric hugging your skin and he’d spring right back up. 

But, in courtesy of your lack of stamina, Choso decided to do something different to get off. He wrapped an arm around your legs as you laid on your back and he lifted them up, pressing them to his chest before sliding his cock in between your thighs. You were pretty dazed but you watched him use your legs to get off.

The way the tip of his cock was just dripping in cum and getting all over your legs was utterly sinful. Tiredly, you lifted your gaze to his face and saw heavy pants and cute whines leaving his wet parted lips. His face was red, his eyes were so low, and his hair was loose and completely disheveled. Choso was beyond drunk off of you and fucked out.

“Hahhhh…” Choso breathed, slowly making eye contact with you as he shallowly thrust his dick in between your legs, “Fuck-, thank you for this baby…” He murmurs.

Your voice is so soft that it sounded as though you may have lost it, “F-For what?”

Choso tips his head back and he moans, “This… Lettin’ me use you like this. Shit-, you’re so perfect. Such a pretty and perfect girlfriend I have,” He babbles out to you, “Love’ you s’much, princess.”

You chuckle wearily, “Uhuh, love you too, Cho…”

“We should probably shower after this, yeah?” He offers, smiling a bit before rolling his head back into place and raising a brow at you.

Your eyes were down on the way his cock looked rutting in and out of your inner thighs that were smushed together, watching how he starts to cum for the nth time of the night. It was so sloppy but spurts of his warm release covered your torso and your legs all over again— leaving you in such a lewd state.

“…Cho,” You whispered, “You c-came s’much…”

He nods and flashes a drained little smile, “Yeahh, I know… M’sorry baby, I saw that pretty set of yours ‘nd wanted to empty my balls onto it…” Choso hums innocently.

You roll your eyes, “I’ll be more careful next time I decide to do this…” You tell him.

Choso chuckles at you before shifting your legs so that he can lower himself down to your body, moving to kiss your jawline once he’s close enough, “Next time m’not lettin’ you get any sleep.”

You scoff and glance over to his nearby clock, “Choso it’s three in the morning.”

“Mhm, I know,” He hums against your skin, smirking a bit.

“You’re crazy,” You sigh out in response.

Choso sucks on the area below your jaw softly before running his teeth over it, “Crazy for you, yeah,” He laughs, “You wore lingerie f’me and told me you’re my lil’ slut, how am I supposed to react?”

You shrug sheepishly, “I dunno-, and wait, I told you what?”

He smiles, “You really are out of it aren’t you baby?”

Choso moves to hover his face over yours and you blink as the two of you make eye contact. “I called myself your slut?” You ask curiously.

“Yeah,” He smirks, “And even though you kept whinin’ about me goin’ too fast, you kept pulling me closer and creamin’ around my cock like you didn’t want me to stop-“

“Choso,” You cut off.

His smirk widens, “What?”

“Enough with the dirty talk, please.” Your request comes out gentle since his words were flustering you.

He tilts his head to the side, ruffled hair swaying as he does so, “Why? You’ gettin’ worked up again? I can go another round, especially if we’re going to the bathroom. I could fuck you against the shower wall, oh, orrr in the tub-“

“No Choso, m’tired.” You say sternly.

He pouts, “Jus’ the tip, princess?”

“Absolutely not,” You huff.

Choso starts laughing and then he leans down and plants one little peck on your lips, nodding and accepting his defeat in convincing you. “Alright, yes ma’am.” He hums lightly before moving to get off you.

You just lay there for a while as Choso moves around. Before you even realized it, your eyes were shutting and you were falling asleep.

By the time Choso returns his attention to you, having gone to straighten up the mess of disregarded clothes on the floor, he coos at the way you look resting so peacefully despite the filthy mess he’d made of you.

He obviously wasn’t going to leave you like that so, Choso did his thing as your boyfriend and moved to lift you, quickly taking you to his bathroom and carefully cleaning you of his remnants. He really did cover you in his cum— it was all over you and he couldn’t help but chuckle as he cleaned you off.

After bathing you clean, he carried you out to his living room couch so that he could finish cleaning his room and the two of you could sleep there peacefully.

Choso hurried to do so, changing the messy bed sheets and pillows and tossing the soiled ones into the wash in a hurry so that he could bring you into the bed as quickly as possible. The last thing he wanted was for you to wake up on the couch and have a repeat of what happened that one time when you thought he left you.

Hell, even then he was worried like crazy— nearly locking himself out of your apartment. Luckily though, because he was running out quickly that night, all he’d done was borrow the set of apartment keys you had lying on your kitchen counter.

He returned them when he came back and he’s kinda glad you never asked about it because, at the time, he did have thoughts of doing other things with those keys… Not that he ever acted on them though, they were just thoughts.

All that aside, once Choso was done, he hurried back out to you, lifted you from his couch, and transported your resting frame to his bed. He only put one of his spare shirts on you so that you were somewhat decent and on himself was nothing more than some sweats.

After getting you into bed, Choso got in behind you and wrapped an arm around your waist, planting a little kiss on the side of your neck and whispering a soft I love you to you despite you resting.

Then, the arm around your waist gripped onto you a bit tighter and Choso shut his eyes, hugging you in a way that said he’d never let go, no matter what you did— you were his now, and he was yours.

Nothing and no one would change that.

Any issue ever brought up in the future, he’d work through with you. Anything about him you don’t like, he’d change. There wasn’t anything Choso wouldn’t do to keep you happy with him.

All his. Finally, you were all his.

GOJO SATORU ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

GETO SUGURU ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

TOJI FUSHIGURO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢

KAMO CHOSO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙎𝙚𝙢𝙞-𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢 / 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

ZEN'IN NAOYA ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙭𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

ITADORI SUKUNA ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙎𝙚𝙢𝙞-𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮???

NANAMI KENTO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙃𝙖𝙧𝙙

mlist || previous chapt || next chpt

tags;

@blognicole @suguruologist @luqueam @ivoryviness @sinaxalui @rxnnie18 @carlacujo @gods-landing @bitchysouljellyfish @miles4hour @sinaxalui @annananamin @heart-snow @kiyomizzx @hanuh @acehyacinth @mccookiemonster @tojis-ball-sack @cartwheel6869 @mariluvsusstuff @addie1010 @slammynics @actualz0mbie @hisbitchhh @kay-xle @cunttee3 @voids-universe @raininglovelyfire @itsbokutosjuicyass @peaceoutbritta @barbielani @gennaray @r3inae @kfmcykdy @camiihutt @tokina @curtin81937 @hopefullydecent @nameless-shade @ureuphoriasworld @forgetfulmachine @legbouk @lilliaannn @clementineee0-0 @divinelseraph @didibxx

[joelsbloodyhands]

Mine

Din Djarin x Reader, The Mandalorian x Reader

Summary: Your employer is pissed when you come back from getting information about a bounty with a bruised hand mark around your neck.

A/N: I kinda just wrote this one because I had a vague idea and ran with it. I think everyone is going to learn very quickly in my writing that clearly jealous/overprotective Din is my fave version of him 🙈

Warnings: reader gets choked and not in the nice way (only talks about it), overprotective Din, Din is your employer but clearly wants to be more, death and m!rder (all in the name of love) 🤗, mentions of blood and bodily harm, mentions of slave traders, fluff with a little bit of spice✨, soft!Din but also a little bit reckless!Din 👀 smut references but not written too explicitly but still MINORS DNI, business associates to lovers arc? 😅 not set at any particular point during the series.

READER does not have a specified gender, they/them pronouns used. Reader does not have a visible disability.

You’d been gone too long and Din was getting anxious.

This hadn’t been his original plan.

The contact for information regarding the bounty had unfortunately been highlighted as a previous foe of his. He’d busted them prior when their bounty puck had fell in his lap over a cycle ago.

Trust Karga to let the man redeem himself by providing intel on high-level bounties with the incentive of remaining out of the hands of the Rebellion that for some reason unbeknownst to Din, wanted his head on a stick.

Why had Din let you go and barter for the information again?

“He won’t suspect me to be a threat.”

Oh right, yeah. That’s what you said.

Except Din was probably worrying about the wrong thing because the biggest threat would be the ex-criminal you were meeting with at Mos Espa Cantina.

“Go say hi to Boba for me. Get the boy fed and I’ll be back soon.”

Din was losing his edge.

On what kriffin planet did he give in to such a request?

You were in danger and he knew it.

He knew it and he still sat in the markets with Grogu, twirling wupiupi coins in his fingers for the past half hour while his son slurped another bowl of pog soup.

Why?

Well, that was easy.

Since the past year you had been travelling with him, Din had grown to have affections for you.

To start he kept you at arms length.

Brief answers to your curious questions turned into nightly talks between your bunks. Subtle touches to guide you through busy and sometimes treacherous places turned into lingering holds in his grasp, fear of losing you to the crowds. He found himself watching you far longer than he ever had before and during times when he didn’t necessarily need to. The sound of you using the fresher while he tucked in his little green son had his heart pounding and a certain area of his armor feeling a little bit too uncomfortable.

He grew more and more protective the further you strayed without him.

He no longer wished for you to venture into dens alone to ask for information on his behalf but he couldn’t deny that you were good at it.

Better than him.

You were calm and collected.

You had a level head.

Something that he could very easily lose control over should Grogu and yourself be threatened by a contact. Though it was the one thing you had learned you could assert yourself over since Din’s change of heart.

You had a job that needed to be done and you were the best person for it.

So Din caved far quicker than he normally would with allowing you to go the cantinas and talk about bounties, pay and information. It sped up the process for Din to track them and also meant he didn’t have to deal with the unwanted chit chat that came with meeting up with Karga.

Something you enjoyed. Something that had Din’s palms itching whenever Karga took your hand to help you stand from the booth, Din’s clenched fist aching to wipe the smug look of his face when he turned back in his direction.

“I like her, Mando. She’s good at getting what she wants.”

He knew you were.

Din wasn’t sure if he was included on the list of things you wanted but you sure as hell were on his.

There was times he had a inkling.

Especially when he was feeding the kid and he caught you looking away when his eyes found you scraping away at your lunch.

Times when you would grab his hand without hesitation and pull him through midnight markets towards the sights of fireworks. Din’s heart warming at the wide smile plastered across your face, the powdery shades of red, blue and green lighting up in your eyes from the sky.

Damn, he was down bad and he had no idea what to do about it.

Technically, he was your employer.

Juggling Grogu and his job was a difficulty. Most of the time he was happy to venture out with Grogu in his carrier or pod but his bounties got, let’s say, brave in their efforts to deter him. Going so far as to aim shots towards the child. They learned his weakness and Din hated it.

So with much reluctance to start, he asked Peli if she would be interested in babysitting him for a price but of course she refused; even with the money on the table.

“Not a chance but I know just the person for the job.”

He had slid the money off the table and walked back to the ship without another word until she scrambled after him.

“Hey, hey, hey! Just hear me out, okay?” Din had sighed, turning back to her from the top of the ramp while she stood hands on her hips and a smile growing. “There’s this kid that needs a job. Call ‘em a distant relative, if you will. They’re desperate. Need money, board, food, water and they’ll make sure your little boy is taken good care of. I swear!”

“Have they taken care of children before?” Din asked inquisitively but also with a half mind to ignore Peli completely and close the ramp in response to her proposal.

“Yeah! Loads of times! They’re a professional!”

Din doubted that very much. He knew Peli’s tactics for selling him an offer and he couldn’t deny that she was good at it.

Fine, he’ll bite. Again.

“Call them.”

He just remembers Peli’s grin, your soft voice on the end of a comlink and then a speeder sounding just outside.

She had presented you to him like a rare gift and he was less than happy to receive you at the time but more than a few rotations later, you had thrown yourself in front of a bounty that had tried to commandeer his ship, their blaster aimed for Grogu in his bunk, taking a graze to the side before Din shot him dead.

You were willing to die to protect his son.

That was more than he could’ve ever asked for.

Later when Din was back at the Crest, you returned.

He had spent the past hours pacing up and down the ramp like a mad man.

Originally, he had planned to detour from the markets with Grogu over to the cantina but you had used your comlink to tell him you were already near the ship.

That was interesting because Din got back to the ship and you weren’t even here.

Which begs the question, why did you lie that you were already nearby?

Maybe he was being paranoid. His fists clenching and unclenching repeatedly, stressing about your whereabouts and the obvious reason as to why he was so stressed to begin with.

So when he’d heard your footsteps up the ramp, your voice calling for Grogu, you were both surprised to see the other staring back.

“Where have you been?” Din questioned gently but you sensed an underlining annoyance to his tone.

“I detoured, sorry,” you sheepishly smiled, holding up a bag of frog meat. “I saw a vendor selling this and I knew Grogu would be happy about it. Not to mention,” you brush past him, eyes focused solely on the sleeping child snuggling into his hammock on Din’s bunk, “it would be nice to see him not eat a whole frog for once.”

You laugh and it eases Din.

Of course he was just being paranoid.

“And the contact?” He says and you remain with your back to him, reaching your hand in carefully to tug the blanket over Grogu’s body. “He give us what we need?”

“He did,” you respond and Din satisfied, presses the button to bring up the ramp and close the hatch. The sound of it whirring so loud, in need of some oiling so much so that you had probably thought he missed your quiet words.

“What was that?” His helmet turns your way when the hatch closes with a loud creak.

“I said, somewhat.”

Okay, maybe he wasn’t being paranoid after all.

Din feels his nerves wash over him, noticing how you’re not even turning around as you address him. He takes you in. You don’t seem discomforted, angry or emotional. You’re incredibly calm.

Though that was worrying.

Normally, you came back from having debriefs with the informants with a story to tell.

“It was quite scary actually. They had this wookie with them but then you’ll never believe this guy! Stood there, blaster in hand, immense glare in his face, goes and shoves a fist in his satchel, I’m ready to throw hands and I shit you not, Din…wookie pulls out a cookie and starts crunching away at it!”

“Have you ever met a Gungan, Din? I think they’re my favourite people I’ve ever met. I mean they were all like, yousa follow us now, okeyday? Seriously! Oh gooberfish! I love them!”

“What do you mean by somewhat?”

You sigh.

This wasn’t good.

“I’m sorry, Din. They gave us the last location. I think that’s the most important thing.”

“What about if they’re solo or run with a crew? We need to know what we’re walking into, otherwise we could get bombarded the moment we land.”

This wasn’t a simple bounty. This guy was one of the worst out there.

A slave trader.

It angered Din to even think about it.

“Something happened,” he doesn’t let you tip-toe around the subject. “What are you not telling me?”

You fall silent and that’s enough for him.

Something did happen and what’s worse, you don’t want to tell him.

He moves towards you and you turn on your heel, ready to protest. Din had only meant to just embrace your shoulder gently to ease you into a conversation he thought you needed to have but the slightest wince had him drawing back almost immediately.

With his steps halted in front of you, the air cold, the crest filled with silence, Din’s visor drops instinctively to your neck.

Was it getting cool? Sure, when it was getting late. Though right now, it was still early afternoon and you never wore a scarf in Mos Espa outside the settlement and in the dunes.

“Did he touch you?”

Din has to bite back the growl threatening to crackle through his modulator.

Your head drops, eyes on the floor and the look of regret on your features make Din pray to the Maker that he’ll kill the man just for the expression on your face.

Then you unravel the scarf and Din wastes no time.

His hand had pulled your collar back gently, his shoulders stiffening at the purpled marks there.

You grimaced before trying for a smile but he sees the way your eyes plead with his, “Before you ask, it looks worse than it feels. I’m fine, Din. Let’s just go.”

He remembers you calling his name after that.

Only once because you knew as you watched him brush past you, grabbing two vibroblades from his armoury and charging down the steps towards the town, that there was nothing you could say to stop him.

And you were right because less than five minutes later, Din’s blades were impaled on the informants hands, stapling him indefinitely to the table at the cantina while onlookers ran completely, hid or dropped their heads from his view.

Then his gloved hands were on his throat, squeezing the life out of him.

An eye for an eye.

You hadn’t explained why the man had strangled you and it was pointless anyway.

He had no right to touch you.

To hell with Karga.

He’d lose an informant but that informant chose to fuck with what was his and that was worth more than any information.

When Din felt the life leave him, he dropped a number of credits to the table, looked up at the barman and walked away. His last words being, “you can keep those,” shrugging his shoulder towards the blades on the way out.

Now back at the ship, you sit rigidly on the bunk while Din gently swipes a lotion of bacta over your wound with a cotton wipe.

“I shouldn’t have let you go.”

Your eyes flicker to his visor and you know he’s evading your gaze.

You sigh and for a moment, he think you’re not going to reply until your hands gently take his, stopping him from tending to you.

He lifts his visor then, meeting your concerned eyes, your fingers intertwined with his on your lap.

“I can handle myself. You know that, right?”

Oh. So that’s what this was?

You were worried he thought you incompetent to end up in this circumstance?

Of course you would think that. He’s your employer. You only want to deliver good work for him.

That’s not all this is anymore though and Din can’t pretend and let you go on feeling like a failure especially with the tears dancing on your waterlines.

“You are very capable, mesh’la but-“ Din sighs.

How can he even begin to explain to you that he’s more angry at himself for not protecting you like he’s supposed to?

Kriff, you’re not even a bounty hunter. Trained to use a blaster as a novice, he noticed how you flinched whenever you’ve had to pull the trigger on his behalf. You’re at your calmest when you’re rocking the small boy before bed, singing lullabies to him in a hushed tone probably so Din couldn’t hear. You had no idea that he stood just above the ladder to the cockpit and listened.

You were ethereal and he couldn’t get enough of you.

That’s why it made his hands shake to even think that anyone would harm you.

He’s so caught up in his own thoughts, he misses the way your eyes widen at the term of endearment he let slip and the quick gesture as you shake yourself from how affected you are by it.

“I just…” you break through his racing thoughts, his eyes latching onto your dipped chin, eyes shadowed in the corner of the docking port, just outside his bunk. You look solemn but rather than feel dread, Din’s heart stills when he notices the flush of pink across your features.

If he didn’t know any better, he’d say you were nervous.

“I just want to be able to do more for you.”

The words play on a loop, almost like they’re colliding against the inside of Din’s helmet, repeatedly soaring through his ears again and again.

“I want to be more useful for you. Ya know?”

Useful? You think you’re not already useful?

“Sometimes I just feel like I have more to offer. I know you brought me in to be a babysitter but I can be more than that. For you.”

Was the carbonite freezing system failing or was it getting hotter in the crest?

Din felt like he needed to tug the shroud off from around his neck. The air was suffocating.

“Please say something?” Your small voice says quietly.

“You are more to me than you will ever understand, cya’rika.”

Your eyes meet his then.

Well, his visor at least and Din curses his creed for having him hide his face at a time when he wants- no needs you to see how much he means what he says.

You’re silent but the increasing rouge of your cheeks is enough to see that you understand him and that perhaps there was some truth in his suspicions.

You felt for him just as much as he felt for you.

“Din…”

And just like that, his eyes roll back momentarily hearing his name leave your tongue like a pleading prayer.

He couldn’t pretend like you weren’t affecting him too.

He needed you to know.

“Get in the bunk, ner kar’ta.”

Your body stills a moment in surprise and you don’t move.

Maybe he misjudged or maybe he’s being too forward but then you stand and without taking your eyes away from him, you seat yourself on the side of his bunk.

Waiting for him.

Waiting for further instruction just like you’ve been doing ever since you walked onto his ship.

One thing he realised he misjudged.

All those times you obeyed every command, it was never out of the need for his money.

You never questioned him, never refused an order but with Din and the matter of Grogu’s safety, it was never a request and that’s all it was to start.

It was just a matter of his sons safety until he realised he loved you too.

Din stands and steps in front of you, you look up at him as he tugs the shroud from around his neck loose.

He notices how your eyes drop to his waist, evading the reveal of his tanned skin while you’re positioned below him. He wraps the material a couple of times before placing the fabric over your eyes.

You don’t move.

You don’t flinch.

You just allow him to remove one of your senses, leaving nothing but darkness over your sight. His heart aches at the trust you have in him, allowing him to render you vulnerable before him.

He ties it behind your head, making sure it’s not too tight as to hurt you.

He’s not the same type of man as the monster from earlier today.

His fingers itch at the memory and he shrugs his gloves off, setting his bare fingers against the cold metal of his helmet.

You await patiently and he watches as you jerk your head slightly at the familiar sound of his helmet releasing.

The sound you’ve only ever heard from a nearby room, hiding away from him when you brought him supper.

You await patiently while Din removes each piece of armor, setting it aside.

Then there’s just silence.

Until you hear his knees hit the ground in front of you and a warm breath hits your neck, a shudder running up your spine.

“Is it okay if I show you something?”

His whispers hit your ear drum in the most delightful way.

You nod dreamily.

Then you feel rough, warm lips graze your neck.

If heaven was travelling at light-speed through space, it was right here and now with Din’s lips travelling along your jawline, mapping out the path to seal against your lips. He tugs gently, coaxing you out of the shy shell you had created when you realised the butterflies he made you feel when you first met had more to do with how attracted you were to him than to how intimidating most people found him.

Every step he took on each planet you travelled, Din carried a powerful aura that most people cowered away from but it only drew you to him more.

You knew Din was strong.

You knew not many could beat him in a fight, yourself included but that was the whole point.

Din would never abuse his strength over you.

Ever.

Though, you wish he would, in special circumstances.

Like right now.

“How do you feel, cya’re?” Din inquires breathlessly, lips pressing soft kisses down your throat while you bite back the urge to be vocal.

“I wish we’d done this sooner,” you say uneasily, your hands gripping the bunk below you.

Din’s chuckle hits your ear, reverberating against your ear drum exquistively.

“Din?” He hears your voice rattle with every nestle of his lips stroking over your skin.

“Yes, mesh’la?” He raises his head, lips brushing the underside of your jaw, watching your lips turn up into a small smirk. Though you couldn’t see his expression returning yours, his adoring smile awaited your next words patiently.

“You killed him, didn’t you?”

You feel a thumb smooth over your bottom lip.

“He deserved it,” you shake your head slightly, fighting away an amused smile on your lips that he quickly wipes away, replacing with an expression of longing when his lips meet your ear.

“You’re mine.”

[redfoxwritesstuff]

Hate Mail (Human!Alastor x Reader)

CW: Rough oral, Dub con Rated: Adult Part 1 of 2 (Part 2 here) Summary: Alastor has been on the receiving end of some nasty letters at the station. With the help of some rather unique penmanship and a stroke of luck, the culprit finds herself in his crosshairs. What sort of lesson will Alastor teach his little hate fan and how will that change when he uncovers the reason why she is sending him the letters? Join us at VoxTek for a Vox themed Hazbin Discord where we talk Vox, Hazbin, writing, reading, art and who knows what else. You may even catch some exclusive sneak peeks at upcoming fics from some of your favorite writers!

Alastor leaned back in his chair, old springs creaking under his weight, letting the dim light filtering in from the closed blinds illuminate the envelope in his hand. He could get a new chair. It wasn’t out of his or the station’s budget, but he liked this one. The way it creaked reminded him of all that he had gone through, sitting in that chair as he worked his way to where he was now, hosting his own evening show. He had taken it from office to office, as he had moved around the station, working his way up. 

The chair creaked its protest and requests for retirement as he shifted again, running the blade of the letter opener under the fold of the envelope. The sound of ripping paper joined the soft noises that filled the small office, along with the ticking of the clock. 

The sender had written the station address on the front of the envelope, above his name. Inside he would find a folded piece of stationary, thin but covered in a distinctive penmanship, just he had found in the last near dozen envelopes just like it. Did you know how uniquely you wrote your As? 

It was only a matter of time before Alastor found the source of this disrespectful dribble and made the sender pay for it. He was determined, and there was one thing that was always true about him; he always accomplished what he set his mind to.

Inside, Alastor found the same filth he had grown to expect. He didn’t bother doing anything more than glancing over the words. It was the same message he got every week, just worded differently. 

Whoever you were, you lacked creativity. Alastor sighed as he pulled open his desk drawer, tossing the paper onto the stack of similar notes. This had been allowed to go on for long enough. 

For each one he received, Alastor was determined to make the sender pay. First, he needed to find you. It was quickly becoming a habit to watch people as they wrote, but he had yet to find that little letter that would give you away. That’s alright. He knew it was just a matter of time. You couldn’t hide from him forever. 

Alastor closed the drawer, chair creaking as he stood. He had a few hours until showtime, but he had time to kill. It hadn’t taken him nearly as long as he had expected to finish the scripts for the week. Glancing at the clock, he elected to take an early dinner break. There was a deli not too far from the station that served delicious sandwiches, and he was hungry.

He shut the office door behind him as he stepped out into the hall. Much to his dismay, he found himself instantly faced with the company of Scotty, the sportscaster who cared more about baseball than anything else. Alastor was fairly certain the man hadn’t picked up a book in a distressingly long time. 

“Al, old pal!” Scotty clapped Alastor on the back in greeting. Alastor smiled wider, thinking about how good it would feel to clap Scotty across the jaw with his fist. 

“You going out?” The man spoke plainly, not bothering with the transatlantic accent when off the air. 

“I am,” Alastor’s voice came clearly, clipped and proper. He spoke the same on and off the air, unless in the private of his own home and even then, it wasn’t unheard of for the accent to be more of a habit than a show. 

“The currier is here, a total doll too.” Scotty gushed, “You should go downstairs and see her.”

“I’m not interested,” Alastor waved the smaller man off. “Thank you for looking out for me, however.” 

“At least stop by, say hello. I bet she’s a fan of our quickly rising star!” Scotty laughed as he walked down the hallway, letting Alastor free of the conversation.

With a shake of his head, Alastor started down the stairs. Today he had lucked out, Scotty hadn’t wanted to linger and chat. Any evening where he didn’t have to pretend to care about the rehashing of the last ballgame as a good way to start the evening. 

“Oh, Mr. Moreau!” The woman who manned the information desk called. She was an eager blonde, curls bouncing as she waved him over. “Come meet my old school friend!” 

~~~~~<3

“Sarah, no.” You hissed, looking between the man walking over from the staircase and your friend. “I need to get back to work.” 

“It’ll be fine,” Sarah assured you, snagging your clipboard from your hands. “I still need to sign this, anyway.”

“Hello, Ladies.” Alastor greeted as he strode up, soft smile reaching his warm brown eyes. 

You did everything you could to avoid looking at the tall man. He was handsome, fluffy brown hair bouncing with each step he had taken. His skin was just a touch too tan for what you had expected, but it was his eyes that threatened to capture your attention. They were the color of coffee, just splashed with the slightest hint of cream. 

“Hello,” you squeaked out, trying to not look at him. 

“Was there something you needed?” Alastor asked, looking between Sarah and you as you avoided his eyes. 

“No,” you said quickly, only to have Sarah talk over you. 

“This is my good friend,” she said, introducing you to the last man you ever wanted to meet face to face. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Alastor said, taking your hand and kissing your knuckles as he purred your name, “quite a pleasure.” 

“Likewise,” you mumbled, reaching for your clipboard, only to knock it from the high countertop around the information desk. It clattered to the ground at Alastor’s feet. 

“Oh, dear!” Alastor’s voice was far too cheery as he reached down, picking up your clipboard. He slowed for a moment, eyes scanning the page before he handed it to you. “I believe this belongs to you.” 

“Yes,” You snatched it from his hands, “thank you.” 

“You have lovely handwriting, my dear.” Alastor leaned into your space, just enough to make you aware he was doing it, but not so much to be improper. 

“Thank you,” you stuttered out, clutching the clipboard to your chest. “I should get back to the office. I’m sure there’s… there’s something for me to deliver.” 

“Oh!” Alastor snapped his fingers, smile spreading wider. “I forgot. I have a package I need to send off.” 

“I can wait-” Alastor cut you off before you finished the sentence, forcing you into silence. 

“Nonsense,” Alastor’s hand came to rest on the small of your back, pushing you ever so slightly to walk along with him, “walk with me. I’ll show you around.” 

“Oh, okay.” You struggled to find a polite way to talk your way out of the situation you found yourself in. Dread balled in the pit of your stomach, not budging as you tried to tell yourself that it was nonsense. 

The pressure of his hand on the small of your back was all you could think about. You tried again and again to remind yourself how much you hated him. Keeping that thought in the front of your mind was a struggle. It was easier to hate him when you didn’t know that he had such a handsome face to go with his smoothe voice. 

You hated him because he was popular. You hated him because he was successful. You hated him because women fell at his feet and he couldn’t bother to even court a woman most of the time. Most of all, you hated him because he had the life you wished you had. 

“Just step inside my office,” Alastor urged you forward with the hand that never left the small of your back, from the moment you left the information desk and the safety of your friend. “It’s just at my desk.” 

“Oh no,” you looked at him, shaking your head. “I couldn’t-” 

“Please,” the pressure on your back grew firmer, leaving you little choice but to step forward. “I insist. It’ll be far easier for you to pick up the delivery if you do.” 

You didn’t understand what he was saying, but you had little chance of resisting. The pressure on the small of your back was firm and unyielding, reminding you of who was in control every step you had taken together. It was hard not to stumble slightly as he all but pushed you inside his office, the door clicking shut behind him. 

“Mr. Moreau?” 

“Alastor, please.” He held his arm out toward his desk. “Now be a good girl and go over to the desk. I have some letters I need delivered rather urgently.” 

Your heart was pounding in your chest, sending blood roaring through your ears as you took timid steps toward his imposing wooden desk . The surface was littered with papers, some having doodles with circled words of commentary. 

Behind you, there was a click that sounded disturbingly like that of a lock turning. Looking over your shoulder, you watched as Alastor took a few steps into the room. His smile spread wickedly wide across his face, a cartoonish grin of mock reassurance.

He didn’t know. You told yourself that again and again. There was no way he could know. You had been careful. You sent every letter anonymously. 

There were no packages on his desk, you realized as your eyes scanned the surface. Nothing hid behind stacks of papers or file holders. 

“In the drawer,” Alastor’s voice came from over your shoulder, nearly spoken directly into your ear. A squeak escaped your lips as you jumped, startled nearly out of your skin. He had crossed the room both quickly and near silently. “It’s unlocked.” 

“Okay,” you whispered, stepping around to the other side of his desk, grateful for the chance to put some distance between you and him. 

Alastor followed you, an ever present shadow looming behind you, standing too close as you stopped again. His breath ghosted over your shoulder as you tried to do your best to ignore it. 

Bending slightly, you pulled the drawer open. It rattled as you opened it, not sliding smoothly along the tracks. It wasn’t a terribly deep drawer, but inside you found a stack of folded papers and ripped envelopes. 

“Take it out.” Alastor spoke softly behind you. He was always behind you, a shadow you could not shake. 

Your fingers trembled as you reached out. “Which ones?” 

“Whichever ones you want,” Alastor said, shrugging, though you could not see it. 

You swallowed as you picked up a few folded papers. They felt the same as the stationery you had back in your house. It felt the same as the paper you had used to- no.

It wasn’t. It couldn’t be. No. 

“Read it.” Alastor’s tone was firm, but his voice was as warm as it had been. You clung to that warmth.

Your fingers trembled as you unfolded the first paper. It shook, making it hard to read the words carefully printed. It didn’t matter; you didn’t need to see the words to know what they said. You had penned the words yourself just a few weeks prior. 

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, “I don’t understand.” 

“Well,” Alastor chuckled darkly, “I have to say you did a very good job!” 

“I don’t-?” You turned to find Alastor standing directly behind you once again, far too close for comfort, let alone propriety. 

“You delivered the package for me, ever so swiftly!” Alastor laughed at his joke. “Did you know you’ve got a very distinctive way to write your letter A?” 

“I beg your pardon?” You stepped away, only gaining yourself a few inches of space as your hip hit his desk. 

“Is there something wrong?” Alastor asked, stepping closer, stealing back what little space you had claimed. “Is there something you’d like to tell me to my face?” 

“N-no?” You looked everywhere but at Alastor and to him, that simply would not do. Slender fingers reached out, taking hold of your chin. His grip was far stronger than you had expected from such thin fingers as he forced your eyes to meet his. 

“Well?” Alastor asked, hand hitting the desk, trapping you between him and his office chair. His other hand quickly followed, properly caging you in. You knew he was close but as you turned to face him, you found yourself nearly chest to chest with him. 

“I don’t-”

“You don’t understand,” Alastor mocked, smile holding a dangerous glint. “You seem to not understand a lot of things.”

“Sir, I- I should go.” You stammered out, clinging hope. Sarah knew where you were. She would surely question if you did not come down the stairs soon. 

“It would be rude to leave in the middle of a conversation,” Alastor whispered into your ear, “and we’re not done talking.” 

“We have nothing to talk about.” You tried to duck under his arm, only to have his elbow fold, pushing him further into your space.

“Ha! We do though!” Alastor’s chuckle was rich, warmer than it sounded on the radio, and yet it sent a shiver running down your spine. “We should talk about how you have a very distinctive way of writing your letter A, for one. Ignoring it will not make me forget.” 

Alastor plucked the clipboard from your hands, flipping it so he could look at your writing. You watched as his eyes scanned over the page. It took longer than it should have for you to realize he had left an opening, though slight, that you could use to escape. 

You took a deep breath and darted out from between Alastor and his desk. Pain jumped through you as your hip smashed into the corner of the desk. It sent tingles down your leg, but you refused to let that stop you.

Oh fuck, he knew. 

You knew he knew. 

It was such a terrible decision. You’d had too much to drink at a speakeasy, dragged yourself home and found the sound of his voice worked you up. Being a good girl, you couldn’t do anything about it. It made you angry, knowing that other women were having what they desired that night and you were alone, wanting. 

So instead of pursuing someone to court you, you wrote letters to the host with the velvet voice. Once you posted the first letter, it was like you had uncorked a bottle inside you that you hadn’t been aware of. You kept having these feelings for the man with the voice.

A man you had never met occupied your mind during much of your waking moments. The sound of his voice haunted your dreams. A man you had never even seen became your personal ghost. There was nothing you could do to exercise it but keep letting those feeling out in aggressive, angry letters. You spewed vile things at a man that sparked things you didn’t want to face in yourself, not expecting the man himself to actually read them. 

But he did. You had accounted for everything, changed how you wrote even, but you didn’t account for one thing. You wrote the fucking letter A weird, even after carefully shaping every letter you penned. 

You didn’t make it far at all. As you rounded the desk, his strong hand wrapped around your wrist. Pain flared in your arm as it pulled back behind you, forcing you to turn toward him. 

Alastor yanked on your arm, harshly, upsetting your balance and sending you to the ground at his feet. 

“Please, don’t hurt me.” You begged. “I’m so sorry. I- I didn’t think they’d make it to you, that you’d read them.” 

“Your mouth is so good at talking the good talk. Yapping. But how are you going to make this up to me?” Alastor leaned down, cupping your jaw and forcing you to look up at him. “Words have power, my dear. Did you know that? That is why I’m so good at what I do. Your words hurt me.” Alastor was lying. He found your letters to be little more than a disrespectful annoyance, but oh, you needed to be taught a lesson. 

You rubbed your thighs together, not even aware of the movement as you did it. Fear was the only thing you were aware of feeling, but there was an undercurrent of something else that you refused to look at. It was that same evil feeling that the sound of his voice coming through your radio speakers in the evenings sparked inside you. 

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, meaning it more than you had ever meant it in your life. 

“Part of being sorry is making recompense, didn’t your mother teach you that?” Alastor was lecturing, keeping your eyes on him as he spoke each word, squeezing your jaw any time your eyes darted away. You feared there would be bruises come morning. 

“Yes, sir.” It was hard to speak with his grip on your jaw. He had your head pulled up so much that your neck ached and yet, you couldn’t help rubbing your thighs together. 

Alastor watched you, eyes darting over your face and down your torso to where your knees were planted on the hard ground of his office. Oh, he realized as he watched your thighs brush against eachother; you liked this. 

“Tell me, my dear,” Alastor’s grin spread wider. “Why did you write me those letters? Be truthful now. I’ll know if you’re lying.” 

“I-” Alastor squeezed your jaw when you hesitated. “Your voice, it made me… me feel things, and I took it out on you. It was wrong, I’m sorry.” 

Alastor hummed, eyes watching your thighs as they rubbed together. Did you notice, or was your body betraying you? He was fairly certain it was the latter, and that you thought you were just shuffling to keep your balance as he pulled your spine tighter. 

“What sort of things did my voice make you feel?” He leaned forward, elbow bending to ensure you continued be stretched by his grip.

Heat ran up your chest, racing up your neck and bloomed on your face. It felt like your ears were burning. You wanted to lie. You wanted to tell him anything but the truth. The look in his eyes told you that even trying to pass a lie off would be dangerous. 

“Sinful things,” you said, his grip tightening urged you to be more specific. “Lustful thoughts.” 

“From my voice?” Alastor chuckled as shame burned through you. “And you decided the best thing to do with your words was to say anything but that? Spew vile words of hate?” 

“I couldn’t-” 

“You couldn’t write me and say ‘Alastor, your voice makes my thighs rub together.’? or perhaps ‘Alastor, I touch myself to the sound of your voice.’?” As he spoke, Alastor hooked his thumb into his pocket, hip cocking as he rested his weight on one leg. “You wouldn’t be the first to send such letters.” 

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, looking up at him with wide eyes. “Please, I’m sorry.”

“Did you think you could say those things to me and I wouldn’t find out who you were? Did you think you would escape punishment?” 

“No, sir- I-” 

“But perhaps,” Alastor hooked his fingers through where his belt fed through the buckle, pulling it free from where it was secured, “that’s what you wanted.” He finished, letting his statement be punctuated by the clacking of his belt buckle as he finished unbuckling the belt. 

“No, I-” 

“Oh, but you do.” Bending at the waist, he brought his face so close to yours you could feel his breath wash over your face. “You’re just too timid to say it.” 

The buckle of his belt clinked in the otherwise near silent room as he moved, unbuttoning his trousers and working the fly open. You looked up at him, shocked at the brazen behavior. You were not a blushing virgin, but you were also not well experienced in the ways of men. Never had you faced a situation where a man had been so forward with you.

“Please, I-” 

“Yes, do keep begging.” Alastor mused, letting his fly fall open, pants now only being held up by his suspenders. 

You opened your mouth to say something, to express your outrage somehow, but Alastor shoved his fingers inside your mouth instead. When you tried to recoil back in shock, he hooked his fingers into the soft underside of your mouth and pulled you forward. 

“You’re going to put that lovely little mouth of yours to good use.” Alastor said menacing as he pulled his face closer again. “You’re going to make it up to me, every little lie you’ve written, every terrible thing you’ve sent me. It’s time that you pay for them. And you will pay for them, I assure you of that.” 

“Yes, sir,” you struggled to say around his fingers. There wasn’t anything you could say to get you out of this. He was right, you would have to pay for what you had done. His forward actions, his anger excited part of you, that sinful part of you.

“Good,” Alastor said as he pulled his cock from his pants. He wasn’t as hard as you had expected, considering how forward he had been behaving. “Now put your mouth to good use, open wide.” 

Putting pressure down on your jaw, he didn’t give you much choice but to follow his order or collapse to the ground. With his other hand, he guided his half-mast cock to rest on your lower lip. 

“If you bite me, I assure you, it will be the last thing you do. Am I clear?” 

“Yes,” you struggled to say. 

Once satisfied, Alastor removed his fingers from your mouth and pushed his hips forward. 

Never had you done something so lewd as what Alastor was clearly demanding from you. That didn’t stop you from wrapping your lips around his member and sucking. The suction pulled him slightly deeper into your mouth, but with no lubrication, that was as good as it was going to get. 

You stuck your tongue out, running it around his shaft just past where your lips reached before trying again with slightly better results. 

“You can touch me.” Alastor said snidely from above you. “Or are you too dumb to use your hands?” 

Your reply was little more than a muffled sound as you reached up for him. Trembling fingers wrapped around his shaft, holding him steady as you pulled off of his cock, letting it fall from your lips with a pop. He twitched in front of your face, stiffer now than he had been before, but far from what you expected he could become. 

You swallowed thickly, coming to terms with the fact that the price you would pay for your terrible decision was to pleasure the man. You could do this. Eyes flicked up to Alastor, reminding yourself that he was an attractive man. There were worse men in the world to pleasure, even if you were having to do so with your mouth. 

One more deep breath and you leaned forward, sticking your tongue out and running your tongue over the underside of his cock. The skin was salty and velvety smooth under your tongue’s caress. He twitches against your lips, growing harder as you placed soft kisses and kitten licks along the slit in his head. 

Once he was harder and covered with trails of your saliva along his length, you wrapped your lips around his cock again, pulling him deeper into your mouth as you sucked at him. 

Bracing yourself against his thighs, you pushed your head forward, taking in as much of him as you could. When your lips caught on dry shaft, you pulled back, leaving a trail of saliva coating him. When the head of his cock was just kissing your lips, you sank down again. Your lips gathered the saliva that had been cooling on his skin, smearing it lower as you took him as deep as you could. 

You repeated the process again and again, running your tongue around him. This wasn’t something you had ever done before. You were disgusted with yourself when you realized you were enjoying the feeling of running his cock in and out of your mouth. The feeling of his hips flexing, fighting back the urge to thrust, was as intoxicating as the musky smell of him, pure clean man. 

The feeling of Alastor’s hand on the back of your head startled you out of the trance you had fallen into. Your eyes, having fallen to little more than slits, fluttered open to look up at him. 

“Good girl, but you can do better, can’t you?” Alastor laughed as you blinked up at him. 

He didn’t give you a chance to offer any sort of agreement. Hips bucked forward as his hand pushed your head forward. The soft head of his cock slammed into the back of your throat, causing you to cough. A rich moan fell from Alastor’s lips as your throat spasmed around him. 

You gasped for breath as he pulled back, only to have your airway choked off as he thrust into your mouth again and again. Fingers bunched into the fabric of his pants as you looked up at him with wild, tearful eyes. His brown eyes, once seeming so warm, looked into yours with cold desire as tears ran down your cheeks. 

“Swallow,” He said as he pressed the head of his cock into the back of your throat harder. 

You did, though you hadn’t intended to. It was a reflex as you tried not to gag on him. The head of his cock pressed onward, cutting off what little ability you had to breathe. 

“Relax,” he soothed, thumb caressing your head before he pulled you back off him. “Breathe, now.” He ordered as if you needed the encouragement. 

After gasping two panicked breaths in through your nose and around his cock, he shoved you forward again, hips flexing. Again, he pressed against your throat and you knew what he wanted. Battling every instinct in your body, you tried to relax and swallow, allowing him to cut off your airway. 

“Good girl,” you hated how your thighs twitched at the praise. 

Alastor thrust into your throat again and again, each time taking his cock deeper was easier. That did nothing to calm the panic in your eyes, slow the tears running down your face, or relax your grip on his thighs. 

“You’re taking me in your throat so good,” Alastor praised, working his cock past the back of your throat again and again, chasing his release now as he looked down at you. 

Spit gathered, bubbles forming from your gasped attempts at breathing in a ring around the base of his cock. He could feel it dripping down his balls, soaking into his pants. It ran down your chin as well, dripping off in long strings as it soaked into your blouse. 

“You look so pretty like this,” Alastor cooed as he lost his rhythm, release drawing near. “Taking your punishment so well. Won’t do that again, will you?” 

Your throat vibrated around him as you tried to answer, unable to form anything more than a sound smothered by his cock. That was all it took for him to reach his peak, balls tightening as he shoved your head forward. 

He twitched in your mouth, seed spilling down your throat in hot ropes. The curls at the base of his cock tickled your nose as he thrust deeper and deeper, not allowing you a moment to breathe. Seed poured into your throat, coating the back of your tongue when he would pull back, hardly giving you a chance for air before shoving forward again. 

Black swam in front of your eyes as you pushed weakly against his thighs. Only when he no longer twitched did he pull you back from him enough for you to pull a proper breath into your burning lungs. When his hand left the back of your head, you fell to the ground in a heap.

Alastor stood over you, cock softening considerably and yet still standing on display. After a few moments, he knelt down next to you, fingers caressing down your arm. Your body shuddered as you gasped for air, throat raw from the abuse. 

“You did very good for me,” Alastor spoke softly, “Very good indeed. I’m afraid I got a little carried away with you, didn’t I?” 

“Please,” you whispered, looking up at Alastor with red-rimmed eyes, cheeks flushed. 

“I know,” Alastor chuckled darkly, taking in how pretty you looked with your lips red and swollen. His cock, still hanging from the front of his trousers, twitched as he stiffened again. “I’ll take care of you, don’t you worry.” 

[the-fandom-is-now-my-life]

Hey >:) Just a thought I had while reading the child creator AU.

What if the child was actually on of the archons? like, would you imagine it being Zhongli or Venti? They be like:

Zhongli: I demand to know who the father is! *looking threadedly while holding his spear, ready to pounce at someone* Creator: *sweating and thought* It's you bu. *The other Archons arguing as to which mortal it was that laid their hands on their creator*

Creator: *looks at them, then looking at Venti* *Venti, catching the creators gaze, winked and took his tonged out, fully knowing he was the father but keeping quite. He wasn't that dumb.*

Anyway that's enough of me, bye!

Archon's son

WC : 1k, venti: 591 zhongli:594

(somehow they ended somewhat close! I thought zhongli would be longer by a fair bit)

Cw:

venti- nahida can see the baby kicking inside the belly (I heard some people feel it's like body horror so just in case)

Zhongli -reader passed out because of low iron, pica/eating rocks

I will admit that this is mostly centered around the idea that they do know that it's theirs or it's likely to but at the beginning there is something along the line of that, anyway, wouldn't it be fun if venti's child could change some features, one day he looks like you and the next he is his dad's clone

“Why is everyone so silent?” Venti fills his glass with some wine, the atmosphere thick enough to cut. You were hosting dinner in your serenitea pot, something informal and a thinly veiled excuse to strengthen links between nations, and somehow the papers written by your physician were next to the door long enough for both zhongli and the tsaritsa to read.

“Their situation implies that they shared bed with a mortal” the tsaritsa crosses her arms above her chest, the way her lips curved and the roll of her eyes show her distaste for the situation.

“If their grace wanted to be accompanied by a man shouldn't that be their choice?” Venti says out loud while feigning innocence “who are we even to judge that?”

“Surprisingly enough Barbatos does have a point, to react like this is to some extent patronizing” Nahida nods along.

“tsk!”

“They seem pleased enough with the current situation so I find no reason to meddle” Raiden speaks for the first time since being seated. As much as the tsaritsa would have liked to snap back at her, you appear from the hallway oblivious to their fight so she chooses to bite her tongue and hope you bring it up later.

“Aren't they fidgety…” Nahida mumbles softly as you pat her hair, the soft white hair mixing with her green streaks. Her head is resting on your lap as you drink tea, bright green eyes focused on the prodding against your skin, some kicks and punches from the inside.

“Mhm, I can feel it in my ribs”

“just one month more, your grace!”

“Never thought a child could be so similar to only one of their parents” Raiden watches the baby from his crib, a small wood cot that Candace sent as a gift from Aaru village.

“Well, to a certain extent I expected that” venti WAS originally a formless air spirit mimicking his friend's form, at first you didn't even think he would be able to reproduce, but here we are and hubris is your biggest sin.

“♪~~♪~” spirit form venti sneaked inside the nursery by the slightly cracked space between the window and the window frame, barely smaller than your pinky finger but just enough for him to slip inside.

A good thing of simply being a bard in his nation was the freedom he enjoys, he is known for his songs and how good they are so it isn't strange when you have him around your house or in your serenitea pot, the pretext that you enjoy music under the shadow of your garden and that your little clone gets lulled to sleep quickly by his soft tunes. Even then it would be strange for him to be around so often so sometimes he just settles for mixing between his son's plushies and watching him play around for a while, after all it isn't like he has anything better to do.

“!!” Swiftly he gets caught by his son's hand and thrown up and down like a doll. This wasn't as smart as he thought.

“Hello, baby” Venti babytalks the the 1 year old seated on the floor playing with stacking blocks when he sees him he smiles. As much as Venti loved the image he couldn't help but be slightly scared as when he opened his eyes they were now his exact same colour.

“Oh, sh-” next blink his eyes were your color, the sane he was born with “how about we make this our little secret we never talk about ever again?”

“Their condition isn't as dire as you are making it seem it's just-” Zhongli tries to calm down Raiden, who visited Liyue under the pretext of cultural exchange.

“It isn't dire? They almost passed out during a leisurely stroll”

“At most they might have gotten low blood pressure”

Baizhu lets your arm go to hush them a bit “they aren't sick, just pregnant and not eating enough iron. May I continue the check-up or do you wish to wait outside?”

“as I insisted, Raiden, their grace isn't ill, they are just pregnant, which falls under no criteria of sickness”

“I meant to tell this to everyone next month but I guess Raiden gets to be the second to know!”

“For one to be impertinent enough to dare bed their grace” Raiden snarls under her teacup, a frown on her lips.

“I must guess their couple must be Ill mannered and uncivil” the tsaritsa follows her idea, the rest of the archon were asked to visit Liyue sooner than arranged to receive an important and very unexpected news, even if they didn't wish to show you directly their discontent between them it was fair enough.

“Don't you seem too calm, Morax?”

“Not at all, I'm burning with hatred” he crosses his legs but makes the point of hitting his knee against the table “I'm so angry I can't even control my moves”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“i will be prescribing you with a herbal tea to ease the birth process, when you come out Qiqi should have them neatly portioned in the daily brew” Baizhu turns around to give Qiqi the list of flowers and roots and how much of each to put in little silk satchel. As he turns around to follow the examination he sees you close to the flowerpot on the desk and your cheek lightly swollen. A deep sigh leaves hus disappointed face, simply pointing to the pot “please, spit” and you do so, a rock falling back to the dirt. Even then Baizhu still looks disappointed.

“Didn't you tell me to eat more iron?”

“Not from dirt, my grace…”

“Then is iron ore fair game?”

“No… just simply no”

“He is a chunky baby” furina prods at your son's chubby cheek, before the time of delivery the doctors told you to expect twins but unexpectedly enough he was just a big baby around 4kg or 8.8lbs and he keeps growing as times goes.

“As heavy as a bag of stones!”

Lei headbutts your leg, his small hands scratching his scalp “please don't tell me you got lice, I told you to be careful” you settle your cup down on the table as you excuse yourself with cloud retainer, who visited to give you advice at childrearing.

“But I wasn't close to anyone with lice” quickly, your hands start segmenting his scalp looking for lice or eggs but there was nothing behind his ears or on his nape, but when you go higher towards his forehead you find two protrusions that made Lei push your hand away when touched.

“Ah? That does remind me back when Morax ripped his horn off during a fight, tte skin closed and we were so worried it wouldn't grown back, luckily a few months after a new one punctured the skin, even if he was so cranky like a child that season”

“And here I thought because he wasn't born with them he wouldn't get them”

“To suppress such minimal features shouldn't be too much work, even if this one thinks the child would prefer not to”

[jinnie-ret]

scarred knees and insecurities

Stray Kids x Ninth Member!reader

genre: hurt/comfort

content warnings: insecurities, heat exhaustion, mean online comments

word count: 2.7k

summary: when the old scars from your youth, become fresh wounds in your adulthood, the boys are there to pick up the pieces.

100 followers special!!! Thank you so much for all your support so far, I hope you enjoy this imagine! I personally share this same insecurity and although I have played it up more for this imagine, I hope that nothing said will offend anyone, I've just written it from my perspective.

As always, asks are open! Let me know what you want to read next! Enjoy! :)

MAIN MASTERLIST

"Annyeong, Stay!" Y/N greeted the fans as she started streaming on YouTube. She was currently in one of the practice rooms at JYP, ready to dance for stays as she normally did when she went live. She was relaxed in some casual clothes, a big t-shirt and some shorts too.

"What song shall I dance to first?" Y/N grinned at the camera as she read the comments.

"Oh- who said WAP?!" Y/N laughed and shook her head, "Stays you can't be talking like that!"

She got up and started dancing, not to WAP, but to their new song Social Path. Anyways, they weren't allowed to play music outside of their company anymore, so it only felt right.

Finishing the dance, Y/N panted lightly, crouched over with her hands on her knees. As she took a sip of water, sat with her knees bent in front of the camera, certain comments started catching her eyes, no matter how much she tried to act normal and answer questions.

What's wrong with her knees

Ew but why do they look like that

Their knees look so old and wrinkly

Y/N needs to get that checked out it looks so unnatural

Just another reason why she's ugly

Of course, there were actual questions, with Stays giving song recommendations and asking Y/N about what she had been doing recently, but she couldn't help but catch sight of the mean comments. She shifted her body so that her knees were off screen, maybe then the harsh words would lessen.

Look, she's hiding them because she's realised how disgusting she is

Disgusting?

Y/N bit her lip and cleared her throat, but decided she didn't want to force herself to sit there in front of millions of fans when she was trying not to let her thoughts spiral.

"I'm feeling kinda tired guys so I'm going to end the live now, bye!" Y/N blew a kiss like always at the camera and sighed as she ended the live.

She had thought about it a couple of times, she wasn't all too fond of the way her knees looked either. But it always felt different and hurt more when someone else points out your insecurities. Her knees had visible scars on them from how clumsy she was as a child. You could see them stick out yet they were healed over and so had blended in with her skin tone. The other thing was that often she'd find after kneeling down or having pressure on her knees, there'd be a redness or slight colour change to them.

Absentmindedly scratching over the bumps of her scars, Y/N looked up when she heard a slight tap on the door.

It was Hyunjin.

"Why did you end your live early? I was enjoying watching you dance," he pouted at her, clearly in a playful mood as he flopped down beside her in the practice room.

"Don't know, guess I just felt tired," Y/N shrugged. She wasn't tired really, just currently feeling low in her mood.

She jolted as he put his head in her lap, in attempt to look up at her face.

"You're acting all quiet, Y/Nnie," Hyunjin commented, hand stroking her knee comfortingly as he knew this was one of her tells when she wasn't feeling too happy.

Yet this action didn't have the same effect as normal. Y/N moved his hand off of her legs and did a fake shiver.

"It's cold in here..." Y/N rubbed her bare legs, hiding her knees before standing once Hyunjin had removed himself from her.

"I've got some spare clothes, it's in my bag in the other room, come on," Hyunjin patted her on the head gently, before resting his hand against her back as he guided her out of the room.

He wasn't silly. He could tell that Y/N wasn't quite feeling herself at the moment, and the best thing him or any of the other boys could do was treat her gently, that's what she always needed when it came to things like this.

A few days later, Stray Kids were set to do a photoshoot on the beach, perfect for a hot day. Well, as long as they didn't get too hot...

Y/N scanned the clothes that were on the rack in the dressing room with her stylist. She smiled as she caught sight of a beautiful white and blue dress, it fitting their cute casual concept perfectly.

"Oh, Y/N we won't be needing that one today, we've got a better option instead," the stylist fanned her own face, feeling the heat too as she passed over a small pile of clothes to Y/N. It consisted of a heavy pair of jeans, alongside a baby tee with a cute graphic of a heart on it. Now that, she could get behind, she thought the tee was adorable, but the heavy jeans? It was such a hot day.

"But everyone else is wearing shorts, wouldn't it be better if I did too-" Y/N began, before the stylist sympathetically patted her hand, yet it came across as being more condescending than anything.

"Honey, we're just doing what the fans will like best, like wearing jeans instead of anything more revealing, you know, because of your knees," she said, before turning around and sorting through other clothes so that Y/N could change.

What she hated the most was how the stylist's words trailed off into a whisper, like she was ashamed, like Y/N should be ashamed of her body. The company were aware of the comments that had been made online, and just after Y/N was building herself back up and ignoring the thing she can't change, this happened.

Dejectedly, she put on her assigned outfit, and left to head outside in the sweltering heat to join the boys.

"Y/Nnie come stand with me!" Felix dragged her next to him happily. The boys had noticed her mood get better the past few days but being the sunshine he is, he noticed that she was once again in the same low mindset.

"Y/N, aren't you... too hot in that?" Changbin rested a hand on her shoulder as he looked at the heavy jeans she was wearing, fabric slumped over at the top of her trainers.

"No, no, this is fine, it was picked especially for me," Y/N lightly smiled, trying to paint her face to seem content when really she was already sweating, causing a makeup artist to run over and quickly powder her face. Y/N couldn't hide the slight truth in her words, and she was silly to think the small bitterness didn't come through in her tone.

"Okay, just be careful, it's too hot to be wearing those, seriously..." Changbin nodded before returning to where he was previously stood, clearly not happy with the situation his younger member had been put in.

Felix side hugged her before they did their group photos first, the others expressing their confusion for the clothes she was wearing.

"Y/N! You must be so hot!" Han audibly gasped, and all she could do was shrug at him, not really having the words to respond, feeling too hot and overwhelmed at the moment to really think.

"Solo photos now!" the director called out, and one by one they posed, Y/N being the last one to head up, as they were going in age order. As Jeongin stepped up for his turn, Y/N scanned around her for some water she could have, seeing black spots enter her vision slowly.

"Here. Drink, or you'll be too tired to even stand," Seungmin appeared with a bottle of water in front of her, sarcasm coming across through his words as he didn't seem to realise how bad she really was feeling, and that she was too tired to stand.

"Thanks, Seungminnie," she mumbled, drinking it quickly as he nodded and walked away, going to change out of his clothes.

"Yah, you'll choke if you keep this up," Lee Know took the bottle from her hands as he crouched down next to her.

"Just thirsty," Y/N fanned herself as she leant back in her chair.

"You sure that's it? Looks like something else is going on too," Lee Know took one of her hands gently, rubbing a thumb across her knuckles.

"Y/Nnie it's your turn!" Jeongin happily walked over, informing his fellow member yet taking away the chance of gaining more information from his other.

Lee Know sighed as Y/N stood up, standing at the beach bar setup first.

Her movements were slow, yet she was sure it looked casual enough to not seem like she was on the verge of wanting to collapse from the heat. Little did she know, a certain leader had been diligently watching her the whole time. He had inquired about the outfit to the stylists and was annoyed when they said Y/N picked it herself. He knew that wasn't the truth.

"Y/N, turn your head to the left a bit! To the left, turn your head to the left," the director frustratedly said through the megaphone, catching the attention of all the members who were now watching.

But Y/N couldn't really hear what was happening around her. She was more focused on trying to stand up straight right now, panting lightly as she did so.

"The director is being a bit harsh..." Hyunjin whispered to Jeongin, who nodded back in response.

"But she's not acting herself either, look," Jeongin nodded towards the girl, who couldn't seem to keep her head up straight.

"Channie hyung, something is wrong with Y/Nnie," Felix said to his fellow Australian member, frowning as he watched the girl.

"I know. As soon as she's done with her photos I'm going to ask-" Chan turned his head away for one second as he spoke to Felix.

One second.

One second he stopped watching over her, and now she was on her knees, leant against the fake bar as she pulled at the collar of her t-shirt for some air.

Gasps rang out from around the room as both Stray Kids and the staff rushed to help Y/N.

"I knew there was something wrong," Chan shook his head as he started patting Y/N's face with a wet towel provided by the staff.

"Y/N, can you hear us?" Changbin hovered around them, concerned at the state she was in.

It all sounded so muffled to Y/N. She had felt that she had been moved into a position where she was laying down, felt slight relief from the cooler feeling on her face, but her eyes were still resting shut. She managed to let out a groan in response, which offered a light sense of peace before they realised they needed to do more.

"We need to get her inside in an air conditioned room or something!" Chan commanded the staff, as he lifted her up after they nodded and he laid her down on a sofa, the other members following through.

"She needs to get out of these jeans, who's big idea was that?" Seungmin huffed, irritated.

"Let me," a female staff member gestured for the boys to turn away as she and another stylist quickly changed Y/N out of her jeans and into some shorts, letting the boys know they could turn around once more.

They had a fan pointed at Y/N as they tried to get her to sip from some water.

"Come on, Y/Nnie, just slow sips, yeah?" Hyunjin held the bottle with a straw to Y/N's face, a hand under her chin tilting her head ever so slightly so water wouldn't spill down her.

Lee Know tied her hair back, soothingly stroking it back before he gathered it all out of the way.

Y/N's eyes opened wide, feeling a bit better as she had cooled down now. But she saw that her knees were exposed and being in the vulnerable state she was, she grabbed a blanket and covered her knees, her mind going 100 mph and all it could think was that the boys thought she was disgusting.

"No, you don't need a blanket, Y/Nnie, you're too hot right now, that won't help," Han grabbed her hands and held them against her stomach lightly, feeling concerned when her eyes became glossy with tears.

Y/N shook her head, not yet finding the words to explain what she was feeling.

"What's the matter, sweetheart?" Chan's voice broke through all of her thoughts, the oldest member being someone she could always rely on.

"They're ugly," she mumbled, eyes darting back and forth between her legs and Han's hands holding onto her own.

"What are?" Felix asked confused, looking back and forth between the boys as they all seemed to be catching onto why you had been feeling a bit low the last couple of days.

"My knees. Got scars on them. They're disgusting. Don't want you to have to see them," Y/N rushed out, feeling the grip round her hands tighten ever so slightly and a hand brush through her hair soothingly.

"Now why would you say something so stupid?" Lee Know sighed, hating how she was thinking.

"Don't call her stupid," Hyunjin whacked Lee Know on the shoulder.

"It's fine, it's silly really. B-but Stays didn't like it so why would you?" Y/N bit her lip, still unable to make eye contact with the boys.

"Y/Nnie, look at me," Chan sat in front of her, and reluctantly she looked at their leader. "Is this why you were put in that outfit?" his tone dropped lower, despising how one of his members had been put in such a position for something out of their control.

"The company agreed too... I didn't want to wear it but I guess it was for the best..." Y/N said unsurely, not really knowing how to explain the situation.

"Not when you nearly passed out from the heat!" Changbin exclaimed.

"Y/N, there is nothing wrong with you, okay? Nothing about you is disgusting. They're just from when you were a kid, right? You can't control that," Chan said softly as he rubbed her shoulder soothingly.

"I just hate how they look and then when Stays started pointing it out it made me remember how much I hate them," Y/N frowned and looked at her knees distastefully.

"They're not real Stays if they're making horrible comments like that," Seungmin pointed out, as the rest of the boys nodded in agreement.

"Plus if people are always staring at your knees, that's kind of weird," Jeongin laughed, which brought a smile to Y/N's face.

"I guess so," Y/N nodded, the grin still there.

"Aw there's that smile," Changbin cooed, squishing her cheeks together.

"Hyung, she's not a baby," Han laughed at Changbin's antics.

"But, Y/N, just know, it's okay to have insecurities, we all have them, it doesn't make you weird or mean that there is something wrong with you. But this is not the way things should have happened, please talk to us next time. I know it was the company that decided for you today, and trust me, I will be having words with them about this... but please don't obsess over this, yeah?" Chan hugged her to him, resting his head on hers as he talked to her, wanting her to know that they were a safe space for her.

"Okay, okay, I'll try," Y/N nodded as she relaxed against Chan.

"Good. And just know, whatever type of scars you have, it doesn't define you, and they're certainly not ugly. Everyone has some, whether they're visible or not," Changbin patted her knee, being slightly more serious in contrast to him babying her ten seconds ago.

"Woah, hyung, that was deep," Hyunjin clapped.

"Our Changbinnie is so good," Han said in a high pitched voice, causing the older member of 3RACHA to jokingly raise his fist at his dongsaeng.

"Thanks guys, I mean it," Y/N said sincerely with a relaxed smile to the rest of the boys who weren't caught up in the chaos. Let's be honest, it wouldn't be Stray Kids without any chaos, it just wouldn't be right.

[navybrat817]

Focus

Pairing: Motocross!Steve Rogers x Motocross!Female Reader Summary: You have a crush on Steve Rogers, but you don't think you're his type. Word Count: Over 1k Warnings: Crush, longing, slight insecurities, swearing, nicknames, Curtis is a good friend, Motocross!Steve Rogers (he's a warning, okay?) A/N: Finally an intro for Champ and Daisy in our Dialed In AU! Took me how long, @yenzys-lucky-charm ? Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @saradika . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated! ❤️

A 450 rider like Bucky with a lot of wins under his belt, Natasha was serious when she said Steve was one of the best riders in his class.

It was one of the reasons people called him “Champ”, a nickname he wasn’t overly fond of since some of the guys liked to tease him after races where he didn’t place first. It also gave him flashbacks of when he was younger and smaller, virtually ignored or told he wouldn’t excel in anything physically.

With a lot of heart and a late growth spurt, he proved them wrong.

Bucky said once that his nickname should be “Adonis” because of his now statuesque looks and the pit lizards fawning over him or “Golden Boy” because of his success and admiration.

Steve never let any of that get to his head and refused to let the pit lizards distract him. He worked hard to get where he was and continued to give it his all on and off the track every single time.

His determination was one of the many reasons you found yourself drawn to him. He was the kind of rider and person many aspired to be.

Your crush only grew the day you two actually met.

A rider yourself, you earned the nickname “Daisy” thanks to the flowers on your helmet and general sweet demeanor.

The helmet was the very thing Steve complimented you on when he walked by you at your first pro race.

You hadn’t meant to stare when he walked by, but his reputation preceeds him. Clad in red, white, and blue like a patriotic God, his blonde hair sparkled in the sunlight and his eyes looked like the sky on a cloudless day.

The sheer size of him almost made you whimper when he got closer. How a man was able to walk with such confidence and dominance yet still had an air about that said he was humble was a gift.

He even stopped to speak to a few kids who were eager to meet him and you couldn’t stop smiling when one little boy wrapped his arms around his legs in a tight hug.

Who wouldn’t fall for him?

You were certain you still had a dopey smile on your face when he looked your way.

“Beautiful.” The deep timbre of his voice sent a shiver down your spine when you realized he was speaking to you, which you tried to blame on pre-race jitters. “Your helmet. It’s beautiful,” he said when you didn’t reply.

You deflated slightly because of course he didn’t think you were beautiful. You were just a rider and not like the girls who flocked to him.

“Oh, thanks,” you croaked, clearing your throat immediately to try and save face. “I like daisies,” you added, mentally kicking yourself for stating the obvious. Why else would they be on your helmet?

The lopsided grin he gave you brought your smile back to your face. “You’re Daisy. Heard good things about you.”

Biting your lip and glancing away briefly, you didn’t catch his gaze following the movement. “You have?” You asked, slightly surprised that your name made the rounds.

“Yeah.” He nodded toward the track. “And I’m eager to see what you do out there.”

Your stomach did a somersault, but you held your head high. “I’ll try not to disappoint.”

“I doubt you could disappoint anyone,” he quietly spoke, looking over his shoulder when Bucky called out to him. “Gotta go. Good luck out there, Daisy.”

“Thanks, Champ,” you said, shifting back and forth on your feet when he stood up straight and flexed his gloved fingers. Maybe you shouldn’t have used his nickname. “I mean, Steve.”

You couldn’t read his expression, but you felt better when he gave you one more lopsided smile. “Champ sounds nice coming from you,” he said before he walked away.

You tried not to swoon or check out his ass when he went on his way, but Curtis clocked you immediately.

“You might wanna wipe that drool off your chin before your race,” he said, nudging you with his shoulder when you glanced at the ground. “Nervous? Don't be. You’re gonna kick ass out there.”

“Not nervous,” you said, biting your lip again. “He said he heard about me.”

“Yeah. Riders talk, you know that. And the guys saw you practice, so they know you have skills,” he said, sighing when you lifted your head and longingly stared after Steve. “Look, don’t let him distract you.”

“I’m not letting him distract me,” you argued, moving your helmet between your hands. “It’s just nice to get a compliment from such a skilled rider,” you said, especially since a lot of guys had a tendency to ignore you once they knew you loved to race.

Curtis narrowed his eyes. “I’m a skilled rider and I compliment you. I don’t see you walking around with hearts in your eyes and having a little crush on me.”

Your cheeks flamed before you hit his arm. “More like you bust my nonexistent balls. That’s not the same thing,” you said.

He didn’t move an inch when you hit him, the wall of muscle that he was. “Perk of being my friend,” he deadpanned, looking in the direction that Steve went, too. “I’m not one for gossip, but Champ is single.”

You put your helmet on so your friend couldn’t see your face. “Good to know, but I doubt I’m his type,” you said.

Because why would he like you?

“Rogers is a fucking idiot if he doesn’t want a girl like you,” he said sincerely before he hit your helmet with the palm of his hand, the familiar grumpy stare back on his face. “But enough of that shit. Get out there and win your fucking race.”

Which you did.

Steve's heart skipped a beat when you removed your helmet and smiled.

Because the truth was, you were exactly his type.

And he’d sweep you off your feet if you let him.

They're sweet, okay? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Steve Rogers Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[immortalmrwavell]

Getting into Sports

(Written for @transformee)

(Original story posted December 31st 2021) This story has been significantly Updated!

Adam woke up bright and early with a big stretch. Today was his day off so naturally he was excited to just chill out and do whatever for the day. He pulled himself outta bed before groggily strolling up to his wardrobe to pick out some comfortable clothes. Though as he looked over his clothes, he sighed. He pretty much rotated between three different outfits nowadays as most of his clothes had worn out and needed replacing. Maybe it was time to do a bit of clothes shopping.

After throwing on whatever decent clothes he could find, Adam grabbed his keys and wallet before heading out. He was on his way down town when he passed a certain shop. He’d been down this road so many times but somehow he’d never noticed this shop. Just looking at it was giving him weird vibes…

It appeared to be a clothing shop. ‘Threads for Life’ it was called. It seemed so strange and out of place yet Adam couldn’t help feeling drawn to it. Well the whole reason he went out was for some new clothes so why not have a quick look around.

He soon found himself pushing open the door with a creak, causing a bell to jingle. The first thing he saw was multiple rows of clothing racks that extended down the length of the store. It almost certainly seemed bigger on the inside than it looked from the outside. Scanning his eyes across the shop he also noticed that the majority of the clothes seemed to be sold as outfits rather than individual items.

Soon after Adam was greeted by a short man looking to be in his mid 50’s. He kindly introduced himself as Tony. With a big smile, the man explained that he was the shopkeeper and was more than happy to help in any way that he could. He seemed sweet and even offered to walk Adam around the shop to help him find something. Adam shrugged and accepted the offer, allowing Tony to begin leading him down the many aisles of clothing.

As the two walked, Tony pointed out various outfits to Adam. Though as he did, Adam quickly began to notice the more unusual clothing the shop sold. There were some regular clothes sure but he could help noticing more and more costume fits as he was guided through the isles. Things like firefighter uniforms and police uniforms that definitely didn’t seem like the cheap costumes you’d find around Halloween. They were incredibly detailed and well made. They almost looked as though they’d been ripped for actual people in those professions…

“Would you mind if I asked a question sir? Tony asked politely, prompting Adam to respond with a simple nod. “Have you ever been into sports?”

Adam thought it was an odd question but gave an answer anyway. “Well I guess I like watching it sometimes but I wouldn’t say I’m into it. I always thought about playing more sports when I was younger but just never really found the motivation I guess.” He responded truthfully.

“Well it’s never too late to get into it. Especially at your age. What are you 30? 32?” The older man eyed Adam’s frame up and down. He was of average build. Not too fat but not too skinny either. “Maybe buying yourself something a little sporty will help get you into the right mindset!” Tony insisted as he led Adam towards the more sports themed section of the shop.

Adam didn’t really see how buying some random sports gear would make him wanna play more sports but decided he decided to humour the sweet older gentleman.

Looking through the clothing racks he saw kits for all kinds of different sports. Baseball, Tennis, Football and so on. They stopped however when Tony pulled a white Rugby kit off one of the racks. It looked far too big for Adam yet Tony insisted that he at least go and try it on. Adam raised an eyebrow. It had to be a joke right? He let out an amused huff as he took the large t-shirt and shorts before Tony handed him the matching rugby socks and cleats.

Tony pointed Adam in the direction of the changing rooms where he entered a stall and closed the curtain behind him. Placing the rugby kit on the bench, Adam fo7nd himself getting undressed and wondering what the hell he was even doing here. As he put his clothes to one side he looked at himself in the mirror. Looking at his somewhat out of shape body. He was fine with the way he looked now but the thought of losing some weight and gaining some muscle certainly was an attractive one. He figured trying to get into sports might not be that bad of an idea if he gets him into a more active lifestyle.

Picking up the white shorts from the bench, Adam chuckled to himself. There was no way this stuff was gonna fit him but it didn’t seem like Tony was gonna take no for an answer until he was proved wrong. And so, with a sigh, Adam slipped his legs into the shorts and pulled them up. To his surprise the waistband managed to keep the shorts up, albeit very loosely. Adam then tugged on the oversized shirt which hung just as loosely as it consumed his upper body.

It was then he realised that the clothes had a bit of an odd scent. Almost sweaty? As though they’d been recently worn and used. He would’ve complained but… he actually found himself enjoying the smell a little. It sounded weird but the faint masculine aroma was oddly alluring.

Shortly after Adam pulled on the rugby socks. Pulling them all the way up his calves and even then they still felt a little big. That said he found his feet feeling ever so slightly damp with the cold sweat of someone else having stained the socks. And yet he embraced it as he moved onto the cleats, shoving his feet inside. Once again they were clearly a few sizes too big like everything else. Only then did he finally get back up and take a look in the mirror.

He looked ridiculous.

As he already knew, the kit was far too big for him and was practically hanging off his body. “Tch… why did I let that guy talk me into this?” He muttered to himself with a small chuckle. He was just about to step out and prove to Tony how ill fitting the clothes were when he noticed something peculiar. On the shirt there appeared to be a name on the bottom left corner. It didn’t look to be be part of the brand name or anything. More like the name of an owner.

‘Joe Marler’ it said. Only then did a tingling sensation shoot like lightning through Adam’s body. It was finally beginning.

It all started with Adam’s hands growing. He looked down at them in shock and disbelief as they enlarged before his very eyes. Becoming thicker and more calloused by the second. To mirror this, his feet started to expand as well. The once oversized socks began to stretch as his growing feet started to fill out the rugby cleats comfortably.

After that the transformation began to intensify. The changes spread from his hands and feet up towards his arms and legs causing said limbs to shorten ever so slightly. Adam found himself stumbling a little as height shifted, dropping from 6’1 to 6’0 exactly. It was only a single inch but that alone was enough to throw Adam off balance. He leaned against the wall to steady himself as his limbs began to pulse. Pure transformative energy flooded through his body. Every vein. Every muscle. Preparing Adam’s body for the insane growth to come.

His legs were the first to hulk out. His calves and thighs swelled with new mass seemingly out of nowhere. Bulging thicker by the second with levels of size and strength Adam had never before experienced. They grew in enormous trunks of solid muscle meant for both speed and strength when carrying a powerful frame that was yet to come. His thighs were so huge that they couldn’t help rubbing together as they filled out the white shirts perfectly. If anything the shirts began to grow a little tight as Adam’s ass changed next, ballooning into a huge jock butt. His cheeks grew round and plump with a healthy mix of fat and muscle. The kind of ass that would threaten to rip the seams of any pair of pants he wore from now on if he dared to squat or bend down.

By this point Adam was in a daze. On the inside he was shocked by the ongoing transformation but the magic surrounding it filled his mind with a strong haze. It was almost like being drunk. However that didn’t stop him from letting out a long moan when the transformation spread towards his crotch.

There was a strange pulling sensation. It was as though an invisible hand was grabbing his cock and gently tugging on it. And with every tug his cock inched outwards, growing lengthier by the second. Adam couldn’t help subtly bucking his hips to the feeling due to his masculine instinct. His bulge became more and more noticeable until his dick reached a flaccid size of around 6 inches. With that his erect length was bound to be enormous. But it didn’t stop there as the tugging sensation he felt switched to the feeling of a hand squeezing his shaft instead. And with every squeeze it thickened. Becoming fatter and girthier until the outline of his cock was visible through the shorts. And to finish it off the feeling finally moved towards his balls. Massaging them gently like the prized jewels they were as they grew larger and heavier until Adam had a pair of fat full balls to match his intimidating cock.

Adam’s hazy mind didn’t get much chance to process his enormous new manhood as his arms started to pulse. The muscles tightening and relaxing over and over in quick succession as the magic moved through them. Then without warning his biceps, triceps and forearms engorged themselves with muscle. Once again mass added itself onto Adam’s frame seemingly out of thin air, causing his arms to balloon to new and powerful sizes. Once again adorning a layer of healthy fat on top of the muscle to give his arms a thicker, brawnier look just like his massive legs.

His torso had already begun to grow in response to his arms and legs but now the focus was shifting fully towards it. But not before his shoulders and traps had a chance to bulk up considerably. Further broadening his frame and forcing him to take up more space.

Adam jutted around a little as his waist grew wider. The small belly Adam had strengthened as it grew into a powerful gut. He still might not have had visible abs but his core still grew a hell of a lot stronger. And now that belly fat he once had was being fairly distributed to give him a far more burly frame. The type of body most would refer to as a muscle bear. This only became more true as Adam’s pecs practically inflated like two meaty beachballs waiting to be groped and massaged. They filled out the previously baggy shirt gloriously. Said shirt stretching nice and tight as his back finished broadening as well

By this point Adam’s entire body had morphed into something unrecognisable. Into his beefy collosus of a man he hardly recognised in the mirror before him. The meaty legs and bulky arms. Not to mention the bubbly butt. He had the body of a man who worked out almost every day and probably ate like an animal to maintain all this size. The only thing left that Adam could recognise was his face. But even that wouldn’t last.

His neck had already grown thicker along with his shoulders and traps, but now the lump in his throat was changing. Lowering his voice a couple octaves until he found himself letting out very deep and gruff moans. He now had the deep baritone voice of a man that would’ve previously melted him into a puddle. Just hearing it escape his lips in the form of masculine moans was making his cock twitch his knees wobble.

But with that his head started to buzz. It began reshaping itself as the features prepared themselves to morph. The feeling was different from everything else. Up until now his transformation had felt raw and forceful. But this was gentle and delicate. Like multiple pairs of hands massaging every inch of his head and remodeling it as if he were a clay sculpture. Sharpening certain features while dulling others. Mostly giving Adam’s face a rougher and more masculine look. This also extended to his hair as the short salt and pepper cut he adorned shrunk and receded back into his scalp, leaving him with a shaved head. Yet on the opposite side, his once clean shaven face found itself sprouting a thick full beard.

But the changes to his head weren’t just physical. They were mental too. He could feel his brain being molded just like everything else had been. Mostly he could feel his IQ draining. Getting dumber and dumber by the second. Replacing all that lost intelligence with knowledge about all sorts of different sports along with gym know how. Along with that he could feel his personality changing that of a boisterous and confident man who wasn’t afraid to speak his mind.

With that, Adam sensed the transformation was finally over as whatever strange magic had overtaken his body subsided. He looked in the mirror once again, awestruck by the sight.

One of the first things he did was run a thick hand across his bald head. All he felt was a thin and tiny layer of hair up there and not much of a hairline either. He then ran his hands through his new beard, really enjoying how it felt under his touch.

Adam’s entire body just transformed before his very eyes. He should’ve been freakung the fuck out! And yet somehow he felt calm. Not only that but just so focused on his new burly form. It was mesmerizing to look at. He knew it wasn’t his but at the same time it felt so right. Like this was how he was supposed to look.

Looking away from the mirror and down at his actual body, Adam could truly see that all the clothes now fit his body perfectly now. Almost like they made for him. His pecs pressed generously against the shirt in a way that showed off his rigid nipples. He just couldn’t stop himself from tweaking them a little, letting out a deep groan in the process. Going on to further explore his new chest and stomach by running those bearish hands up and down his torso.

Naturally he then did what almost any man in his situation would do. He curled each hand into a fist before raising up both arms and flexing his biceps nice and hard. Watching gleefully as the muscle bulged in a display of his newfound strength. Adam’s eyes didn’t know whether to dart between each arm or to look back into the mirror to see his bulky reflection flexing back at him.

All the while it was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore his hardening cock. By now it was nearing its full girthy length of 8.5 inches and the outline in his shorts was painfully obvious. He’d need to learn how to control his new beast because any unwanted erections from now on were gonna be difficult to hide.

A short time later Tony finally decided to check in on Adam and see if everything had gone to plan. “So, did you find everything alright?” Tony asked as he carelessly peered around the curtain. Immediately he was greeted by the sight of a hulking rugby player with his shorts around his ankles as he groped at his fat new jock butt. Jiggling it with a dumb laugh as his cock stood upright at full attention.

Adam should’ve been embarrassed when he saw Tony peeping in on him but he was too horny to care. “Yeah this kit is amazing brother! But would you mind if I just had a minute to… relieve some of this pressure?” He grabbed his cock with a stupid grin before facing the mirror again.

“Well normally I’d say yes. I don’t mind if my customers have a little fun after finding a new fit but a new customer just walked in and I’ve only got the one changing room.” Tony claimed before looking over his shoulder to see another man browsing the aisles behind him. “But I don’t want to leave you unsatisfied so how about I speed things along for you?” Tony smiled before pointing at Adam’s thick new cock. A little beam of light shot from Tony’s finger and hit Adam’s cock directly and caused it to glow.

“OooOOhhhh FuUUcccCckk… Whhaat did You Doooo??…” Adam groaned like an animal as immeasurable amounts of pleasure flowed through his crotch. It felt as if he were being given a hundred blowjobs all at once! He tossed his head back in pure bliss as his cock bucked and pulsed uncontrollably before finally erupting with a blast of cum that emptied his bull balls completely, splattering the mirror with his seed in the process.

“That was an orgasm spell. A little magic trick I learned quite a while back. Does exactly what it says and causes the target to have an extreamly powerful and almost instant orgasm.” Tony explained. “Now get those shorts pulled back up big fella. You’ve got a whole new life to live out there in the world.”

Adam did just that, wiping off his cock before tugging up *his* underwear and shorts. Once again adoring the reflection that stared back at him in that mirror. He’d never imagined having a body like this. Large, thick and powerful. But it all his now and he couldn’t have been more delighted.

“Oh and just before you leave… could you please take your mess with you?” Tony pointed a finger towards the cumstained mirror.

“Sure thing brother. You got anything I can use to clean it with!” Adam asked with a laugh.

Tony shook his head while still pointing a finger at the splattered mirror. “No need.” With that the sticky man seed found itself detaching from the mirror on its own as all the cum gathered itself in a small blob floating up in the air. Adam hardly had a chance to react before Tony pointed his finger towards the burly man. The entire load flew towards the new rugby player at blinding speed before forcing itself into his open mouth. Adam’s eyes widened with surprise as he found himself being forced to swallow his own salty nut.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” Adam shouted moments later. “Could’ve given me a warning…” he tried his best to sound annoyed but honestly he was kinda turned again already.

And with that, Adam was free to leave the shop which had changed his life forever. On his way out he saw the new customer who was still browsing. He grinned to himself knowing they wouldn’t be the same when they walked out either. But that's none of his concern.

Now he was just a big dumb rugby jock who’s only real concerns in life now were fucking dudes, getting fucked by dudes and playing sports.