#and no this is not me being a sore fucking loser

[multimilfs]

POV POV POV anything from agathas perspective (maaaybe smth jelly or protective 👀 im not picky tho)

hmm, this was a hard (but fun) one! i've been toying with some Agatha POVs in the new chapter(s) so this was a nice little exercise for that. not exactly what you requested, but i hope you like it regardless, darling!! i had so much fun playing around with this!!

also--spoilers for The Reigning Game CH5 below the cut

Agatha's POV:

"Help me up." Agatha demands.

When she inhales, it's choked. There's an odd heat to the feeling of her flesh sliding over the blade. Like the searing pain should be temporary. But it renews again with each breath, forcing adrenaline and rage into her veins.

The rage, so familiar and comforting, calls forth her magic, beckons it forward from that never-ending well somewhere deep in her person. Her power writhes in the same agony she does as soon as it surfaces. It claws at her, desperate for a foothold to pull away from the pain, from whatever is imbued in the fucking sword that makes her unable to rid herself of it. It begs for the pain to end. She cannot make it stop.

She lets loose a long string of curses.

Agatha doesn't know who this Witch is, but when she does she's going to destroy her slowly. She'll turn her magic against her so she feels the never-ending torment of her body unraveling. And when she begs for mercy, Agatha will give it to her; but she won't let her keep it.

Stupid fucking Witch. Stupid plans and you and biding her fucking time when she should just--

"Why should I?"

Agatha freezes. She holds her breath, which is a strange relief for her abdomen, though her lungs scream. She tilts her head back to look at you.

You, beautiful and kind and arrogant and foolish. You, with the sun at your back, surrounding your person in a ring of golden light. You, the problem and solution.

She really knows how to pick them.

There's a desire roiling in your eyes that intrigues her. Bloodlust. It lingers every time you look at her, every time you sit in silence long enough to consider how you might bring her to heel. Yet, in some deep part of her, Agatha knows this bloodlust isn't yours.

You're too still.

"Don't do this. Not now."

Your laugh is quick, easy, wrong, "I never took you for a sore loser, Harkness."

Harkness. Like saying her true name is beneath you; the Witch has kept that much true, at least.

“If you want to win, stab me yourself—don’t profit off of someone else’s fortune.”

She knows you desire her death for yourself, you always have. You've fought her tooth and nail every step of the way. Just like that day.

That day when she had outmaneuvered you, leaving your forces surrounded in the old fortress. Agatha hadn't seen the bodies she leveled, focused solely on meeting you halfway, as if called by some outside force. The blood had clung to her skirts though.

Upon her approach, you had wasted no time. You lunged, a flurry of blows and slashes so fast even she fought to keep up. You danced around the bodies she left trailing behind her. Even with the advantage of age and power you were quicker, flitting in and out of space before she could fathom how to catch you. A Goddess of beauty and rage and determination.

Agatha's familiar enough with manipulation--familiar enough with you--to see through the clumsy attempt.

Your head tilts, observing her like a specimen in a jar. Agatha's magic still roils and writhes within her, equal parts desperate to escape the pain and eager to prod you until the emotion in your eyes is your own. How dare that Witch alter what is already perfect?

“You don’t get it, do you?” You ask, “Being rid of you is winning. How it happens is irrelevant.”

The way out, wickedly deposited into her lap.

Agatha smirks through the pain.

Winning. Winning for whom? Not those masses your heart bleeds for. The poor and downtrodden Agatha rarely spares a thought for, but whom you had gone to war to defend.

The woven mask cracks, a hint of you peeking through. Her eyes rake down your form. Her head tilts. It's a shame, really; such a stunning example of fury, butchered by ham-handed manipulation.

“You’d be beautiful like this—if it was really you.”

the original scene (for context):

Lightness sweeps through your limbs. Walking away now would be so easy. It is your turn to have the last word.

“Help me up.” Agatha demands.

Her chest rises, though stutters each time as the pain of her flesh sliding over the blade renews. Under her breath she lets loose a string of obscene curses.

You tilt your head, your own voice sounding far away, “Why should I?”

Agatha freezes. For the first time since falling, she looks at you. You’re struck by the change in circumstances; not long ago it was you kneeling at her feet, begging. You’re seized by the desire to feel her beg.

You want to hold her heart in your hands and squeeze.

“Don’t do this. Not now.”

The laugh comes too easy, “I never took you for a sore loser, Harkness.”

“If you want to win, stab me yourself—don’t profit off of someone else’s fortune.”

You stare at her, hard; the paling of her skin, the way her fingers are clenched in the grass, palm sputtering purple. Her eyes are furious. There’s also something else there you can’t quite place.

“You don’t get it, do you?” You ask, “Being rid of you is winning. How it happens is irrelevant.”

Agatha’s lips pull into a smirk. It lacks the usual strength, but you still find yourself unmoored—fear creeping in where triumph was moments earlier.

Her eyes drag over you. Her own head tilts.

“You’d be beautiful like this—if it was really you.”

You can’t breathe.

[trcvelers-chcsen]

The Young Wolf rolled their eyes at Kallex's argument. Clearly that wasn't what Apollo had meant, not that it made much difference to them. It wouldn't quite occur to them that the pair weren't on the same wavelength or knew the whole picture.

"If Bibi could take me down, there's no way they'd lose to a lightless Dead Orbit flunkie," the exo retorted, their eyes following the shifted aim of their opponent...

...Straight to the table of fucking explosives lining the wall.

"...But apparently, YOU'RE the dense one here...!" they followed up, making a mad dash for the wall, a leap and roll into a crouch, and bracing the Lament against their arm once more to interpose themselves between this sore loser and his fucking suicidal-ass plan.

The pulse rifle's shots ring true against the Lament and its barrier, SIVA nanites beginning to swarm and embed themselves into the Guardian with a stifled groan of pain. Of course this would be the one way to back them into a corner... not that it would matter.

As before, shrapnel shot off from each hit, and each piece being disturbingly closer to their volatile targets. Until they hear the sound of metal and a high-pitched whine ring out behind them.

"You fucking idiot...!" they lamented, throwing caution to the wind, and running full-bore toward the chimera, through bullets and nanites and leaping toward the man trying to kill them all, crying out a warning as they tackled them to the ground.

"EVERYBODY GET DOWN!"

Upstairs, the other-worlder had slowly begun to lower their own explosive device, giving a small sniff as Bibi attempted to de-escalate and prevent a suicidal last-stand as a sore loser might.

"A lot of what our fleet is built with involves a lot of exotic materials..." the warlock explained. A gloved hand covered a weeping face. "We... can't use our jump drive or transmatter teleporters without them. And... I don't think my organization's leaders anticipated the possibility that our equipment would wear out this quickly..."

The remainder of the explanation would have to wait however, as the lightbearer's accomplice downstairs decided to do exactly the same thing Bibi was just about to stop from happening.

Everyone is just so sportsmanlike today.

The Stormcaller's eyes dart to the stairwell upon hearing the warning from below, and back up to the wounded arachnid as the building began to shake with the thunderous clap of surprisingly high-yield prototype grenades bringing down the entire fucking wall.

Leaping into action like the fellow lightbearer downstairs, the assailant-turned-rescuer wrapped their arms around the former opponent, and carrying her, threw the pair against the opposite wall to the one coming down, as the floor crumbled beneath them.

Rushing stone, wood, metal and concrete came down around them all, pelting and impaling the pair of lightbearers as they bore the brunt of the destruction for their opponents with their own bodies.

Devotion inspires bravery. Bravery inspires sacrifice.

Apollo could feel their skull caving in from blow after blow of stone and concrete. Their jaw set, and flickering eyelights glared straight into Kallex.

Slamming into the ground, the Warlock immediately, despite being winded and struggling to breath, rolled overtop of Bibi, just in time to feel rusted steel puncture their lung, as the rickety staircase gave way above them.

Sacrifice... leads to death.

The dust settled. The human and exomind laid dead atop the pair of rivals. Whether they freed themselves or not, a familiar pair of drones fizzled into being above them, staring pitifully down at their charges and their surroundings burn with a warm, soft Light.

Just before revival, the two ghosts look up... and make eye contact.

"...Oh."

"...Oh dear."

In two flashes of light, the pair of lightbearers disappear and re-constitute, standing, and completely unscathed. Apollo looked down at the extremely punchable douche they just saved, and looked up.

To make eye contact with the Warlock that they once thought they were going to spend the rest of eternity with.

"...No. No this is not fucking happening right now..."

The warlock, who had just calmed down enough to stop faerself from doing what Kallex had just done, had, upon spotting the source of faer current woes, descended back down the mental health hell slide into losing faer actual literal shit.

Apollo took a step back as the Thunderlord was drawn back into the Warlock's hands, with bloodshot eyes glaring at them through the sights.

"...What in the Traveler's name is Set doing here...?!"

Whatever in the ever loving hell had Bibi gotten involved in here?

Why this otherworlder attacked them makes enough sense, they need shit he has and it's a no brainer if it was Kallex this stranger was working with the asshole would point right in his direction.

The fact the wizard happens to know Apollo and if he had to make a guess comes from the same place is a wild coincidence enough, but this person does not seem to be coping well with the idea they're here and he has absolutely no clue what that could be about.

"Look. They aren't in the building so I couldn't hand them over right this second anyways."

Bibi, slowly, cautiously lowers her glaive. Just trying to deescalate this before shit hit the fan harder than it already had. Deescalation has never been her strong suit so they can only hope maybe seeming less combatant and continuing to talk will help.

"What do you need them so badly for anyways..? If you want to leave so quickly, there are other planets nearby."

Below this, Kallex is simply trying to keep the fuck away from all this explosive gunfire that he most certainly is not in fact built to be able to take.

His eyes are narrowed behind his shades, breathing somewhat heavily, he isn't built for agility in the way his rival was either.

This is not what he signed up for.

"What are you, dense? Would have figured you'd put two and two together the second you didn't see you're little friend you so boldly came to the rescue of down here."

He gestures with one arm around the bottom level of the building.

"Should be taking care of business just fine. But someone needed to keep you busy."

And in what was surely not a fucking terrible idea of going for broke now that he's realizing there's no way he's going to win against Apollo as it stands, the chimera instead aims his gun towards the work tables with the various explosives sprawled across it's surface and fires.

Clearly intending to set the whole damn lot of them off in what would surely be a very manageable not at all worrisome explosion.

[anonymous-dentist]

What I will say about this tournament was that it was very fun seeing so much crazy fanart and so many passionate fans! I’ve made so many mutuals during this it’s insane, and I have so many projects that I get to start and share with you that I never would have considered making even two weeks ago.

What I will also say is that a lot of you people should be fucking embarrassed. Over the past week or so since the polls went live, I have been harassed, insulted, threatened, bullied. I’ve seen some racist fucking people. I’ve seen some genuine assholes being pieces of shit to campaigners, voters, and even the event organizers.

It’s fucking minecraft. Never before in my six years on this website have I had to turn off my inbox and my replies. Never before have I seen such vitriol from a fandom as “chill” as the Hermitcraft one. Every story I’ve heard about the fandom in 2019, from when Cleo was run off the website, is true, and that kind of behavior still lingers today. Just a few months ago you all bullied Pearl off the website. Just two days ago, I had to delete the Tumblr app off my phone and log out on desktop because someone called me multiple slurs in my askbox because, what, I wanted a Dream SMP member to win a silly tumblr poll? Twitter voters who I considered cool enough to follow said some of the most racist things I’ve seen in my life because, what, a Mexican man was beating their blorbo in a silly tumblr poll? My friends were harassed. Random Quackity voters were harassed. Techno voters were harassed. Wilbur voters. And that’s just what I’ve seen myself. I’m sure there’s more I don’t know about because I haven’t seen it.

There’s a real sense of superiority in certain fandoms on this website. “At least we aren’t them.” Well, maybe you aren’t them. Or you don’t seem to be. But it all lies beneath the surface. It’s all hidden- the vocal minority, what gave the DSMP fandom its bad name- and it rises its ugly head once again.

If you’re one of those people, get off my fucking blog. I never want to see or hear from you again. You disgust me. Go touch some grass and do your math homework.

The poll has been fun. But if I never want to watch hermitcraft again, well. Thanks for that, too.

[stripedstarsblueflags]

if you expect a driver to be world champion material (ruthless, ravenously ambitious, selfish, psychologically manipulative, killer instinct, able to be cold hearted to hypothermic extremes, competitive to the point of aggression, values winning more than anything and anyone in their lives) and also be a completely likeable person that is entirely a you problem

[killeroos]

GBR v IRL | WOMEN'S RUGBY SEVENS

[froggy-nebula]

vriska is really funny cause when you look at the shit she actually does shes not the best at manipulating people or flarp or combat she just cant win at any of her hobbies

[askchilchuck]

Do you support Kamala?

No idea who that is.

[firestorm09890]

The still image of Zexion with his head resting on the arm of his chair after losing in multiplayer 358/2 Days was already very funny but it's even funnier knowing that the full animation has him slam his fist down in frustration and only after making sure no one else is watching

[moe-broey]

Please forgive the shit quality LMFAO I don't think I can share it any other way but like this was SO fucking funny to me like

We lost miserably. But I won at pissing everyone off. So who REALLY lost here

[motordyk]

telling someone how you feel about them is terrifying not because of rejection but because if you’re still just friends they absolutely have fuel to use against you. It’s like making a typo in a group chat

[emstefani]

Yawn, anybody else not ready for World War 3 tomorrow??

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: enemies to lovers, past bullying, reformed bully x victim

♡ fem reader

“No way.” You shake your head—face warped in something akin to disgust. Judging him for even asking, glaring in disbelief at him and what dangles from the clothing hanger in his hand. He couldn't be serious.

“Come on, please, for me?” he pleads, downright pleads. But there’s no way.

“No.” You say more firmly, planting both hands on your tilted hips. “I don’t get what you’re thinking, but it’s not exactly a time in our lives I want to relive.”

He pouts and sags a little where he stands, clasping his hands together in prayer, making the ill-taste outfit swing. “Oh, come on, it won’t be the same as then,” he promises with zero believability backing him. He even dares smile as he spouts the bullshit in his next words, “It’ll be like therapy. Let’s reframe your trauma together.”

You scoff. He’s unbelievable. “You’re stupid.”

He feigns feeling insulted. “I’m serious!”

“You always said I looked like trash in that—no way I’m not putting it on,” you dismiss.

But then he gets down on his knees. Hands still together as if in worship. Looking up at you with puppy dog eyes. “I was lying through my teeth back then—you know that! I’ll be honest this time around. Tell you exactly how often I had to change my pants because of you—”

“Ew, stop.” You can’t believe the spectacle he’s creating—such a drama queen—and all for getting you to put on a make-shift copy of your old high-school uniform.

“Come one, pretty, pretty, pretty please?” He shuffles forward on his knees until he’s right by your feet—bottom lip jutting out in his pout. “The prettiest please?”

You look down at him—you mouth a prim pursed line, gritting your teeth to try and steal yourself. Grimacing at the outfit sprawled on his lap. There’s no way. Absolutely no way.

“Pretty please?” he continues, making you roll your eyes with a sigh.

“Fine,” you bite out but quickly add, “But you have to wear one, too.”

You think you’re being smart. But he only grins—a wicked little twinkle in his eye.

“Way ahead of you.”

From behind the outfit meant for you, he pulls forth a black gakuran to match.

Okay, so you hadn’t really thought he would have bought one for himself—you realize now the mistake in your speculation. Of course, he’d bought one for himself. But hold on… You raise your brow, folding your arms atop your chest. “And where’s the pants?”

“They didn’t have my size, but my sweats are already a good lookalike,” he explains away. “This doesn’t really fit either, but it won’t stay on for long, so’ doesn’t matter.”

He gets up and hastily pulls his shirt off of his head, then, with just as much enthusiasm, pulls the black school jacket on. And he’s right—his black sweatpants could pass for the old Tobi trousers he used to wear. All in all, it’s a sight for sore eyes. Looking at him feels just short of seeing his old high-school self.

“Come on. You said.” He holds out the rendition of your old uniform. “Get dressed.”

You regret conceding. But it’s too late to go back on your word now. Rolling your eyes, you receive the hanger with a sigh, “Oh, fine. Just this once, you freak.”

You get dressed without making much of a show. Leaving your current comfy outfit in an unceremonious pile, you pull the tacky articles on hastily. Black pleated skirt and sailor blouse with a little red bow sash—there’s even a pair of knee-high socks to go with it. As a grown-up, it’s utterly humiliating having to wear it now.

But he doesn’t seem to share your discomfort. Only groaning, “Damn. There she is—my prettiest little junior~”

You ball your skirt in your fists. Glancing up at him only to look down again, fixing your gaze to the floor. Heat in your face. Mumbling, “This is weird—you look dumb.”

“Oh yeah?” his voice curls with newfound enjoyment. “Well, you don’t look a day older.”

He comes closer, and oh god—you don’t know why you’re so nervous. But fuck—you feel like your back in time—back in time when you were a sorry loser getting picked on, and he was… he was a—

“Perv,” you manage to say. Though, that’s not really the word you’d been thinking.

He chuckles, so close now that he also starts to play with the hem of your skirt. “That’s for damn sure.” Agreeing, he hums, “Only for you though. So’s fine.”

He bends down and finds your neck with his tongue and teeth—his hand traveling up under your skirt without further ado.

“Hey,” you protest, wringing his ill-fitting jacket in both fists, hauling him off. And even though it makes him look back at you like a kicked puppy, you don’t let it get to you as you scold him, “Thought we were reframing my trauma. At this rate, you’re just itching to make me relive it.”

He tries giving you one of his innocent smiles. “Oh?” His arms curl around your waist, pulling you close—chest to chest—simpering while leering down at you, voice in a purr, “It won’t be any fun if I can’t bully you a little bit like I used to.”

He tries leaning down to catch your lips, but you push him away. Breaking free, then scoffing, “Tch, if that’s how you’re gonna play this, then have fun beating off on your own.”

“But—” He starts, but you’re already on your way to leave the room. Hooking two fingers into the band of your skirt, he stops you and spins you back, now all mopey and sorry, “I’m sorry, don’t go, princess—how about we one-eighty it, and I tell you all the reasons I love you? Will that make you humor me?”

He’s back to pleading.

And you can’t help the small smile it gives you. Muttering, “Maybe.”

He smiles giddily, too, “I love how pouty you can be sometimes.”

Your brows furrow, “Hey!” That’s not a compliment.

But he only laughs and continues, “And I love your snippy little tsundere attitude.”

“Those are both insults, you tit—” you argue, but he doesn’t care, hugging you close, lifting you off your feet before falling with you down on the bed. Hanging over you, he admires every inch of your perfect body tucked into that cute little uniform he used to make fun of because he was scared of how silly you made him feel.

“I love how you tell me off.”

Deciding to face his fears was the best decision he’d ever made.

“I love how you look at me.”

It’s crazy to think you’re here with him still, after all these years.

“I love how you put up with me, how you make all my wishes come true—how, even though I don’t deserve you, you stay with me anyway—how you’re mine even though I’m a scumbag.”

You’re eyes soften under his speech. For all his tactlessness, he can also be really quite sweet. You raise both hands, reaching out to cup his face—beholding the softness in his eyes—that way he looks at you. It makes your chest stir.

“You’re not that bad,” you confess, pulling him down to tease his lips with yours.

Kissing you once, he accredits you, “That’s ‘cause you make me a better man.”

You smile and kiss him again, then resume your teasing, “Don't get ahead of yourself. You’re still a boy.”

He lifts and raises a brow down at you in retaliation, “Is that so?” And oh no, you recognize that look.

“Well, this boy is feeling hormonal and horny and just raring to go—” he overplays. Gasping, “And what do you know? How lucky!” He lowers himself again, then starts peppering kisses all over your face in between words, “I’ve got this perfect little high-school sweetheart lying here all up for the taking—”

♡ BNHA – Hawks, Dabi, Bakugou, ♡ JJK – Gojo, really silly in-love Sukuna ♡ HQ – Kuro, Atsumu ♡ AOT – Eren ♡ DS – Sanemi ♡ WB – Suo, Togame

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[lucifer-kane]

Opening up a new Apex streamer to watch. You, streamer, can you be normal about a video game

[samisfunky]

Jjk fic masterpost

THESE ARE NOT MY POSTS THIS IS JUST A WAY FOR ME TO NOT HAVE TO SCROLL A BAJILLION MILES TO FIND STUFF

Updated July 29th 2024

Screampied Masterlist

Bad Boy College AU Sukuna x Reader

Toji x Reader, heavy breeding kink (Megumi exists)

JJK men seeing u nude on accident

Punk Band!Choso x Reader

Tender-Rosiey Masterlist

Nanaslutt Masterlist 1

Nanami x Reader, Sex life boring spices up

Gojo x Reader BODY SWAP (my fav)

Pseudowho masterlist (use to get to updated one)

Fighter Sukuna x Reader

JJk Period Sex (my fav)

Professor Sukuna x Reader

Virgin Choso x Reader (go to yujis for sleepover end up with choso)

Sukuna x Reader Best friends older brother (my fav)

Nanami x Reader naturally

Single mom Reader x Next door neighbor Sukuna

Actor toji x actor reader

Spideyyeet Masterlist

Rinhaler Masterlist

Omegaverse Gojo and Geto

SUKUNA PERIOD SEX LETS GO

Yakuza Boss Gojo

Mult Jjk Men Kinks

Best Friend Choso (WHOLE FAMILY TREE)

Accidentally texting them ur 📯🦵

[AO3] Sukuna period sex

Best Friends brother choso

[AO3] Gojo x Geto

Boy next door Sukuna

Hybrid Gojo and Geto x Reader

Pleasing Choso after a long day

Dads best friend toji

Father Sukuna

Loser GF x Sukuna

MMA Toji x Sukuna x Reader

Velvetcrimsonkisses’ Masterlist

Edging Choso

3am w/ Dad Sukuna

Choso and Yuki full Nelson w/ Reader

Fuck her till she’s sore multi

Sukuna and Clingy Concubine

Toji x Pregnant Reader

Yakuza Gojo x Yazuka Geto x Reader

Gojo needs Getos help to make you O

Academic Rivals Choso x Reader

Hybrid Geto Masterlist

Enemies to Lovers Choso

Sukuna Fics

Dad Sukuna fics

Vamp Choso Period Sex

Uncle Sukuna x Reader

College Gojo x Reader

[AO3] Sukunas Roommate

Messy Sex Multi

Wolf Sukuna x Bunny Reader Mlist

Dumb Dick Gojo

Gojo, Namami, Geto x Reader, fucking a piece of ur clothes

Toji, Gojo, Sukuna fav position

Fuck boy gojo

Cocky men

Toji being soft with pregnant wife

Gojo, Nanami, Geto, being freaks

Doggy with Choso

Office AU Dom!Choso x Reader

Sukuna Shutting up up blurb

Plug Sukuna x Reader

Sukuna x Reader Fairytale AU

Men in uniform fuck better

Chubby Chaser Sukuna

Being Sukunas Secretary

Jjk Men as Exes

Low Sex Drive Toji

Wolf Hybrid Gojo

Sukuna x Reader Period Sex

Clothed Sex with JJK Men

Loser Choso x Cam Girl Part 2

JJK Men 420 fics

Dom JJK Men x Sub Reader

JJK Men affected by Sex Technique

Shoko x Fem!Reader

Sending the JJK Men NSFW videos

Hockey Sukuna x Reader ML

Twt links

Mha links

[seullovesme]

cockwarming w/ kim minjeong

pairing ⥬ stuco pres!minjeong x reader

genre ⥬ smut

summary ⥬ you'd do anything to get the student council's president to help your club out.

warnings ⥬ g!p idol, virgin idol, winter is a loser, penetration, cockwarming, mdni

WC ⥬ 1.1k

“so what do you say, pres? you think you could do that for me?” minjeong’s heart wavered at the way you were talking to her, like she was your obedient little girl. you placed your hands on her desk and her eyes darted to then before returning to your eyes, a little intimidated by the aura you gave off.

you leaned in closer, inching towards the girl’s face. minjeong’s eyes widened and she leaned away, supporting herself by putting them behind her on the edge of her seat. once you were centimeters away from the girl, you stopped and stood up straight again.

it was like minjeong’s heart was racing at a mile a minute and was about to pop out of her chest as you turned away. she finally let the breath out that she was holding in, her face of disbelief showing now that you weren’t looking. fuck her soft spots for girls like you… “uh, i—”

“this is a great offer! my club’s performance will be absolutely life changing for the school with the help the council gives us.” you bite your lip and cross your arms, trying to come up with something to convince the student council president to just give in.

“that’s–that’s not even an offer…” minjeong whispers, but you hear her words anyway.

you spin around and minjeong locks eyes with you, startled by your sudden movements. you look the president up and down. you can’t lie, kim minjeong was a piece of work. her slim figure and defined features made her stick out like a sore thumb whenever she was with her friends, so you’d be a liar if you said she never piqued your interest.

“ah. so, you want me to offer something in return…” you walk up to her and begin playing with the tie of her school uniform. “how about in return for helping my club, you can have me?”

you reach for the buttons to your white uniform shirt and begin undoing them one by one, watching as minjeong stared intensely at your fingers as they moved.

like she was snapped out of a spell, the girl shook her head as if to warn off the thoughts that were starting to pop up in her mind. she turned away and covered her view of you with her hand. “nononono, no, don’t say that! you don’t have to do that, you don’t have to offer yourself! or… whatever.. i was only stating you weren't making an offer, so you can stop.” she spoke the words at the speed of life as she felt her heart begin to jump up and down in her chest again.

you chuckled at how innocent the girl was and put down her hand, grabbing her jaw gently and turning her to face your way. “don’t be scared, jeongie. i won’t bite… unless that’s what a good girls like you are into.” you continued undressing in the empty classroom in front of the council president.

minjeong was frozen once again. jeongie? that nickname alone could’ve killed her, but the way you said it in such a seductive tone short circuited her brain. and her being into biting? how would she know what she was into? she’s barely gotten close enough to kiss someone with all her responsibilities being her number one priority.

by the time her brain was done going into panic mode and jumping to thoughts about random things, your whole shirt was already gone, leaving you with only a pink lacey bra and your uniform skirt. minjeong’s mouth just opened and closed repeatedly like a fish out of water. she also felt like she was suffocating like a fish out of water the way the heat of the room intensified by 100. seriously, what was happening? and what was her luck?

“take your pants off, jeongie.” you instructed. the girl immediately responded by getting up and undoing her pants, strongly compelled to follow your order for some odd reason. she shimmied her slacks off and sat back down. you peered down and admired her package, a tent forming in her cute spongebob boxers. minjeong heard you snicker and saw you staring, so she put her hands over her boner, feeling shy.

it was cute how she was trying to hide out of embarrassment, but the last thing she should be embarrassed. “you’re still a virgin, right?” you asked to which she hesitantly nodded. “you’re okay with me taking your virginity?”

her face flushed at your straightforwardness before nodding again. you hummed, “can you say it out loud?” she looked up at you and tilted her head like a puppy.

“i want you to use your words and verbally tell me that you’re okay with this.” mustering up the courage to, she affirmed that she in fact did want this.

“i’m very okay with this, so please… please take care of me.” without taking one second, you lunged toward her and pulled her boxers down to her knees. her dick sprung up and hit her lower abdomen, her tip a pretty shade of pink.

as much as you wanted to take things slow for the girl’s first time, you had to finish this meeting to tell your club you got permission, that way you could help with preparing for the stage.

on that note, without engaging in any foreplay, you straddled minjeong in the chair, sliding your panties to the side with one hand as the other tightly held on her shoulder.

“just trust me okay? tell me if it’s too much.” minjeong grabbed your hips and nodded eagerly, her eyes fixated on what was underneath your skirt. it was adorable to see the girl so innocently let you do whatever you wanted to her.

you lined up her tip to your entrance and lowered yourself at a slow pace, pressing your lips together as she filled you up so nicely. “shit…” minjeong whispered under her breath as she threw her head back.

“i didn’t know you knew how to curse, ms. president.” you tease as your hips met her’s.

the girl grit her teeth, desperate to feel more pleasure like an addict. “how about you shut up and ride?” you were shocked by how aggressive her words were, but for some reason you just followed her orders obediently. but not without asking a question first.

“so you’ll help my club now, right?” you say, trying your best to not whimper as you fight the urge to begin moving. minjeong loved how warm it felt to be inside of you, the feeling being something she had never felt before. she could hold you here forever, even if it meant having you warm her cock as she did her homework and went over papers.

minjeong was getting distracted and she hummed, recalling your question. “oh, you already had the green light from the beginning. i was supposed to tell you that your other club leader let me know in advance, and i had sent some members of the committee to go help out earlier today.” she finished, and your eyes grew twice in size, your face flushed.

“WHAT?!”

[jaylaxies]

HARD THOUGHT !

pairing: sunghoon x fem!reader

cw: smut, unprotected sex, mentions of choking, usage of nicknames.

warning: 18+ content, minors dni

Rival skater!Sunghoon who always keeps you on your toes, never lets you sit down or relax by any means cause you can’t risk him being even one percent better than you, especiallyy with the annual competitions coming up. You hated the smirk he had on his face as he skated past you, doing his usual warm ups on the ice, and soon, it turned into the usual race between you both, and you were the winner this time, by less than a second.

“I see you’re ready to lose this time, Park,” you mocked, your smile vibrant as he scowled, stopping right in front of you, lips pink with cold, head held high despite his unofficial loss.

“Overconfidence is not hot, darling,” he points out. The arena was empty, minus you both—always doing the most to get even a sliver of extra practice in hopes of beating the other one.

“Don’t be a sore loser now,” you coo, and he scoffs, backing you up against the support railings, his cold finger tip on your chin making you look up at him in question, his mouth parted enough for you to get a glimpse of his sharp canines, the dim lights of the arena casting an attractive sort of shadow on his face, making you shut up automatically as you observed him.

“It’s cute that you think you’ll win tomorrow,” he started, “but that won’t happen with me being your rival,” he said, smirking and you rolled your eyes at his own display of overconfidence.

“What if I do win?” You asked, deadpanning, causing him to click his tongue, “then I won’t come close to you, ever,” he whispers, making you look up at him in surprise, “but if I win—I’ll have you as close to me as possible for the whole night,” he proposed.

“What the fuck, Park?”

“Scared you’ll lose?” He chuckles, pushing all your right buttons.

“Fine, we have a deal,” you said, looking at him one last time before skating away with your heart beating faster than ever.

There wasn’t much time to practice, granted the competition took place the very next day. You had won in your respective categories already, leaving the final round, which was the main event. All skaters were lined up for the last race, and the majority of the audience had come to watch the final rundown between you and Sunghoon, which made you want to do better.

“Good luck,” Sunghoon winked your way right before the race started.

You were determined, but Sunghoon’s determination skyrocketed, given that he had to win the bet—to have you in his arms, in his bed.

Which brings you here, right in his cozy bedroom with his gold medal resting on your chest, the cold metal juxtaposing the warmth of your skin, and his body on top of you. He kissed you all over, making you wear the medal he won—winning the bet and driving you back home with him without any delays after the award ceremony.

“You’re so pretty when you just shut up and take it like a good kitten,” he praises, snapping his hips to meet yours in a rushed thrust, making your eyes roll back with pleasure, he rolls his body fluidly as if already in sync with every movement of yours as his cock reached the deepest spots in you, making you feel good no matter how much you tried not to let it show on your face.

“Don’t stop,” you gasped out, only boosting his never ending ego with your whimpers of need, and he complied, “wasn’t planning on to,” he groaned, caressing your cheek gently before wrapping his slender fingers around your neck, fucking you hard as you arched your back and moaned for him, exactly how he wanted you to.

“So pretty,” he murmured, your cheeks heating up at his sudden compliment, paired with no other snarky remark when he pulled out, and then eased back in, his cock twitching just as your pussy clenched around him, signalling that you both were close, however, he wasn’t done with you, not yet.

Because tonight, he was the winner, and you, his reward.

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