#at least I think that’s what’s going on.

[keferon]

There’s something incredible about your aus that they start out with fun characters and world building ideas and then we all start digging underneath. And inevitably end up with a story that, for me (and I’ll only speak for my own experience here), forces me to think deeply about the world around us and life in general. And that is powerful stuff. /pos

Thank you thank you

I’m kind of dooming my AUs into that every time because I have this imaginary rule to make every storyline .uh. unique? Like if I already have “a human who randomly befriended a mer” then all other characters has to be something entirely different. So I end up starting to dig out references and experimenting with contrasting concepts and genres. And usually it leads to everyone crying because nothing makes such a contrast with simple fun as complicated suffering heh?

[nochepsicodelica]

Bear Boyfriend Toji ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ᕦʕ •`ᴥ•´ʔᕤ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

You've been away for three out of the five days you took off work to spend time with your family. Toji stayed behind for work, but never went a day without letting you know how much he misses you and wants you to come home already. He calls and texts plenty, and you do the same, assuring him that you'll be home soon. He's made a habit of calling you at the same time every night. Two in the morning.

One fifty-nine became two, and as if he knows it's his cue, your phone rings and Toji's contact name appears over a picture of him sleeping on the couch, bundled up in blankets.

"Toji," you say, as if you're expecting an explanation for why he's calling so late. "It's two a.m., baby. What's going on?"

"Hey, pretty girl. I was just wondering when you're coming home," he asks, his voice deep and low, fitting for what time it is.

You let out a hushed laugh on the other end of the line. "The same day, Toji. You asked me this last night and the night before. I'll be back in two days."

He groans, frustratedly. Getting days as a response is the worst thing ever for him, right now. "That's forever from now. I'm starting to go nuts over here by myself. Can't you cut it short? For me?"

"Sorry, baby. I'll be home soon, I promise. I won't be leaving your side for a while. At least not because I want to."

He sighs, the sound riddled with his loneliness. "I fucking miss you, doll. I wasn't gonna do this today, but I can't sleep for shit without you next to me. What normally doesn't bug me when you're here, irritates the hell out me, now. Like the wind shaking the windows and my own tossing and turning."

"I'm sorry, love. I feel something similar to that, too. I hear when my parents open their bedroom door to use the bathroom and one of my little cousins is still up playing videos games right now." You smile when you hear Toji yawning obnoxiously. "I miss your suffocating bear hugs. I wish you were here to put me to sleep."

"Yeah? You miss being held tightly in my arms?"

You can practically hear the smile on his face. "I do," you assure, a smile of your own spreading on your lips.

"What else do you miss about me?"

You laugh at the tone he uses to ask the question. He's expecting something dirty, but you won't be giving that to him. "I miss your handsome face. You know those green eyes are one of my greatest weaknesses when it comes to you."

"Yeah? What else about me makes you weak?"

You hum, already knowing the answer. "Your soft morning kisses... the way you draw shapes on my tummy with your fingers when I can't sleep at night."

"Fuck, I really miss doing those things, ma," he mumbles.

The line goes quiet for a second, but his signal isn't choppy and he hasn't dozed off. He's imagining the softness of your skin and the little stars and circles he would be drawing on your tummy if you were there with him. He's thinking about the hushed bouts of laughter that would ensue when your energy and playfulness comes out at the wrong time—when you're supposed to be sleeping. With a sigh, he continues his restless conversation, spurred on by his longing for you to be with him.

"Come home to me, already. Please?" He sighs, heavily. He's never felt more like a child—unable to sleep without the presence of the person who brings him the most comfort. "Sorry. I'm sounding pretty pathetic here, aren't I?" He asks, a low rumble of his chuckle caught on the line.

"No, you don't, my love. I miss you like crazy, too. It's the longest we've been apart in a while and it seems like we're both going through withdrawals," you say, unable to hold back a small laugh. "Sorry, saying it out loud sounds kinda funny. Makes it sound like we're addicts out of context."

"Well, I'm addicted to you. Miss everything about you."

"Yeah? Like what?" You ask, fully prepared to hear him slip some of his dirty thoughts into it.

"Mm... I miss the way you sleepily kiss the scar on my lips, before you fully wake up in the morning, and the way you run your fingers through my hair when I lay my head on your chest after a shit day at work. And... of course i'm missing the pretty sounds you make when I get between your thighs."

"Toji," you chide, with a giggle.

"Sorry, sorry," he says, through a chuckle. "Just really miss you, doll. Call me dramatic, already."

"No. For what? Not everyone has a partner that would act this way after being apart for only three days. I'm just lucky like that. You love me?"

"You know I do. So fucking much. I miss your body against mine. Not even trying to be a horndog, I swear. Just want your warmth and your kisses back."

"I know, baby. When I get back, we'll cozy up together and take a nice, long nap, and when we wake up, we can do anything you want. Anything, okay?"

"Yeah, alright, doll."

"It'll be okay," you promise. "You tired?"

"Yeah, I'll leave you be so you can get some rest. Just wanted to hear your voice."

"We can stay on the phone," you offer. "'Fall asleep together, if you want. Or is that stupid?" You ask, with a soft laugh.

"Nah, nah, nah, that sounds good, ma. I'd like that a lot," Toji responds, encouragingly. He sets his phone down next to his pillow and puts you on the lowest volume of speaker. Your voice is more audible, but still only meant for him to hear. "You there, doll?" He asks, once he's settled into his comfortable position.

"Yeah. Ready to go to sleep?"

"Mhm. Love you, gorgeous. Talk to you tomorrow."

"Love you, baby. Goodnight."

Toji credits you for the way he was snoring within minutes. Your presence comforted him, even if the physical aspect of it wasn't with him. He spent a couple minutes just staring at the ceiling, but as time went by, his eyelids started feeling heavier, and there was no way he was going to fight it when that was what he needed help with all along.

[cuntyji]

you were sure, without a doubt, that math had been invented by the devil himself—or at the very least, some ancient sadist who found joy in human suffering. and who else but the sumerians, the architects of civilization, to introduce numbers and wedge them into the very fabric of reality?

which brought you here, sprawled out on gojo satoru’s bed, textbooks and loose papers abandoned at the edge of the mattress, your laptop open but wholly ignored. your eyes were squeezed shut, thighs trembling, and brain struggling—desperately—to process the numbers being traced against your cunt with his tongue.

“you’re fidgeting too much,” he mumbled against your folds, the vibration of his voice sending another pulse of heat up your spine. he sounded amused, always so amused, as if he weren’t the one making this impossible.

“oh, i wonder why,” you bit back, and your sharp exhale turned into a shaky whimper when his tongue swirled again—slow, purposeful.

"mm, attitude," he teased, pulling back slightly. his glasses—he had insisted on keeping them on, of course, just to be extra insufferable—slipped an inch down his nose. he peered over them, a lazy grin on his lips, cerulean eyes twinkling with mischief. "you should be thanking me, you know. most people have to suffer through studying, but me? i’m making it fun for you, baby."

fun, he says. as if this wasn’t absolute torture.

"fun for you," you gritted out, propping yourself up on your elbows to glare down at him. it was hard to look menacing when your legs were thrown over his shoulders, his breath hot against your dripping cunt.

“fun for both of us,” he corrected, and before you could retort, he dove back in, tongue flat against your clit before spelling out a number with slow, languid strokes.

your back arched. fuck. that was—okay, that was definitely a six. or maybe a nine? shit.

he pulled back again, looking far too pleased with himself. “c’mon, princess. what’s the answer?”

you struggled to keep your voice even, mind still hazy. “si—sixty-nine?”

he huffed a laugh, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your inner thigh. “mmm, close, but not quite.”

"what do you mean not quite—"

before you could argue, he started again, this time tracing a much longer sequence of numbers, each movement sending sparks of pleasure through your core. your nails dug into the sheets, jaw slack. it took you a second—two, three?—before you realized: oh. he was giving you the answer to the long equation from earlier.

bastard.

“satoru—!”

“concentrate,” he chided, pausing just long enough to smirk up at you before resuming, each flick of his tongue slow, deliberate.

"i—i can't!"

"yes, you can," he murmured against you, tracing another swirl, another long stroke that had your toes curling. "you want that A, don’t you?"

your head lolled back, a moan slipping out before you could stop it. god, you hated him. hated how smug he was, how good he was.

"better get the answer right, or you're getting a big fat D," he chuckled, pressing a final, lingering kiss against your sensitive clit. "literally."

your breath hitched. okay. fine. if this was how he wanted to play, you were going to win this damn game.

you swallowed, chest heaving, and forced your scattered thoughts into something coherent. focus. deep breath. think of the numbers, not the way he was staring at you over the rim of his glasses, lips shiny with your slick, eyes full of challenge.

“eight…three…seven…five…” your voice wavered, but you kept going, pushing past the pleasure clawing at your mind.

gojo’s grin widened, and his grip on your thighs tightened just slightly. “atta girl.”

[muqingslover]

Ok, so... this might be a bit of a +18 think piece, but... what do you think the lads men would have as their top 3 kinks? I started thinking about it after I read the Xavier somno one, lol. Maybe I'm crazy but I think Caleb would have blindfolds/rope play in his top 3 (on mc not on him, since he wants to see all of you but is very resultant to show all of himself back due to fear of rejection+ if mc is tied up she can't leave)

[ choosing only three was a lot harder than I thought whew. Also, I'm testing out different layouts rn so don't mind me (⁠^⁠～⁠^⁠;⁠)⁠ゞ]

Xavier

Predator/Prey Play: This guy is the literal definition of wolf in sheep's clothing. What gets him going is the thrill of the hunt and the turntables (his specialty), which is why he will often let you think you're in control and have your fun teasing him only to then pounce when you least expect. If you run from him then you better pray he won't catch you or not.

Exhibitionism: This might be a hot take but walk with me. Xavier is a very jealous man so he won't ever allow anyone to actually see you, buuuut he is very into letting others know you belong to him. You gotta leave for a mission with someone else? Not to worry, all he needs is 10 minutes in the bathroom stall. The bread guy is back at it again? It can't be helped, he'll just have to fuck against the door while he's knocking to show you're busy. He'd love to see you struggling (and failing) to keep your voice down and looks like a smug cat when others notice the marks he left on you.

Cunnilingus: This man eats pussy like a goddamn champ. He absolutely adores having your thighs wrapped around his head, to the point he finds it comforting, and the feeling of his tongue stretching open your dripping pussy for his cock later. Your taste is something he could have every day, which he will if you let him, and he takes pride when you're left a writhing, whimpering mess that begs for him to fuck you.

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Zayne

Bondage: The joke about him tying MC up with surgical knots was definitely not a joke. In my opinion, rather than the power rush over the control he has over you, what really gets him off is the trust you put in his hands. Bondage is all about having faith in your partner to never truly hurt you and knowing you see him that way makes him feel beyond special. Given the chance he'd love to have you wrapped in dark blue, silky ribbons and the aftercare is top tier with this guy.

Lingerie: For some reason I feel like Zayne is REALLY into seeing you wearing lingerie. Ladies, feel free to tease him by telling him you're wearing one, but not letting him see until he's home much later. He'll spend the entire day imagining what type of lace you have under your clothes and he pretty please asks you to strip for him as a reward for waiting.

Phone Sex: Another one I just have a feeling it's his thing. I mean, he is a busy man and sometimes it can't be helped, people have needs yk. He'd like the feeling of knowing you think of him as much as he does of you when the other is not around. The photos you send and the sounds of your needy whines right next to his ear goes straight to his cock and he is mortified when the post-nut clarity hits him and he realizes what he did in his own office.

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Caleb

Overstimulation: I'm an overly sensitive Caleb truther. The overstimulation has his head spinning so good that he can barely form a coherent thought that isn't your name while he slams into your pussy for the nth time like a desperate man. He doesn't want to simply break you he wants to break together, to the point neither of you can think about anything else besides how good it feels.

Roleplaying: I've lost count of the amount of times we've seen him and MC roleplaying and this man will unironically take it to the bedroom. It starts as a joke where he's only doing it to make you laugh, but then he won't allow you to break character and will edge you until you say your "lines" correctly. Forceful and cold soldier? Check. Teasing and pervy Gege? of course. A loving and gentle husband? Sign him up. Strict teacher? No need to ask twice.

Brat Taming: Now defying Caleb is the equivalent of waving a red flag in front of a bull and you better run because when he catches you you're done for. He needs you to need him as much as he needs you and if he has to break you for you to admit it then he will. The rush of being the one in charge and "taking care" of you in a way no one else will is enough to have his cock throbbing.

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Sylus

Breeding AND Biting: These two go hand in hand every time you have sex with him. He craves to have a family with you but, more than anything, he wants you to be as full of him as his heart is of you. He wants you to be so filled with his cum that he has to keep his cock inside otherwise it'll leak out of you. He absolutely enjoys the slippery mess your warm insides become when he rocks his hips into you, slowly but deep, pushing his cum even further into your womb and hoping you'll get pregnant.

Body Worship: I've said it once and I'll say it again: Sylus is a lover boy! ! ! Each kiss on your skin is an offering, a promise and a worship. He wants to know the parts of your body not even you do and give you the love you deserve. The praises he whispers against your body are similar to a prayer and he could spend years exploring every inch of you without ever getting tired. You're the very reason for his existence and any less is just unacceptable.

Size: This guy is not only big but he's also very large. He is a softie who likes to tease you about how small you are compared to him while he holds your hand and pretends he doesn't hear your complaints about him suffocating you after the draped his heavy body over yours. That feeling of satisfaction extends when he has to gently coo you and kiss your tears away while he's spreading your little hole open. He can't help the fangy grin on his lips when he feels his cock bulge on your tummy and he holds your hand over the spot so you feel how deep he is inside of you as well.

-----------------------------♡♡♡------------------------------

Rafayel

Rough Sex: Another controversial take but I feel like he's a secret sadist just not the extreme type. Man can flip his demeanor from "harmless babyboy" to intimidating sea god in a split second who knows what else he's hiding under that purple wig. He'll keep an almost cold demeanor while he coaxes whimpers out of you in the best way and a wicked smirk spreads across his face at the sight of your tears, spurring him on until he's completely broken you.

Food Play: That's definitely one way to make sure he actually eats. Having you be his meal will make him hungry like never before and oh he absolutely will feast (this may or may not be a reference to this). He makes a point of not using his hands while licking along your skin, tasting the sweet chocolate before he left a purple mark on your thighs. Oh, this goes both ways so please pour wine on him and lick him clean ;)

Body Painting: I forgot if there's an actual English term for this but Rafayel would love to draw on your skin and watch you squirm each time the soft, wet brush went over your perked up nipples. He'd scold you when you move because you're making him smudge the lines and holds you in place with his free hand, warning you to stop or he'll take "extreme measures" to make you keep still. You are the only one he'd ever dare to call a masterpiece.

[rafesangelita]

♡ what happens when the man you’ve been having anonymous phone sex with asks you to come over to his place so you two could have a date of your own?

warnings: mean!rafe, enemies to ???, brief descriptions of phone sex, dirty talk, mutual masturbation, mutual pining, praise, orgasm control, orgasm denial, degradation, flirty banter

a/n: this is part three of this mini series! thank you so much for all the love on this series so far, i wasn’t expecting such an outpoor of support <3 if you ask to be added to the taglist and i don’t reply, don’t worry!! i promise i’ve seen it and have added you!

links: previous | next | mini series masterlist

wc: 2.8k

“..you sound pretty.”

you froze, the slightly familiar voice sending a shiver down your spine. “who’s this?” you swallowed thickly, already having a gut feeling. “you know who i am.” with a demeaning tone like that, you only had one guess. “so out of all of the usernames you could’ve came up with; ‘country club’ was the one that stuck?” rafe smiled to himself before taking a drink from the liquor in his glass. he was alone on the druthers now with nothing but you on his mind, along with his mystery girl that he never stopped thinking about.

“it’s just a nickname a friend of mine gave me,” he explained, “no one else knows me by it so that’s why i chose it.” you hummed, a hint of curiosity piquing your interest. “really? who?” you asked him in a poor attempt to get something out of him. “ah, you wouldn’t know him. he’s from the cut.” now you were really interested. “the cut? how did you end up being friends with someone from over there?”

rafe was quiet for a few moments.

“it’s a long story. i think you’d find out who i am if i told you about it.” you tried to think about any drama or gossip that chanel may have filled you in about at some point but ultimately came up empty handed. “i see..” deciding to change the subject, you asked him about something that actually had relevance. “so what had you so wrapped up earlier?” rafe sighed, your pictures from earlier flashing in his mind.

“i was on a date— if you could even call it that,” he laughed, “the amount of bitchy attitude this girl throws at me every time i see her is crazy.” you ignored the spark of jealousy that lit up in your core, your eyes narrowing as you thought of all the things he could’ve been doing with someone else that wasn’t you.

rafe had a very specific reason for bringing someone else up and just like he had hoped, you fell right into his trap. “yeah? you should probably call her and talk to her instead.” you were quick with your remark, rolling your eyes before settling underneath your plush comforter.

“i think i already am.”

you bit the inside of your cheek, a sense of panic washing over you as you thought about your earlier encounter with rafe. could you really be the girl that quote unquote ‘throws bitchy attitude at him every time you see him’? it would be hard to tell considering you threw bitchy attitude towards everyone, but still, his words caused your train of thought to come to a screeching halt. “no, that’s impossible.” to be in denial when you two were this far along in your arrangement was simply delusional, but you couldn’t help but deny his theory.

“you think so?” he sat back in his seat overlooking the water. “i know so. cause i went on a date tonight as well.. and i personally find the guy insufferable— hot, definitely, but insufferable nonetheless, and i’d like to think that if me and you have ever talked or interacted in person we’d at least get along in some way.” now it was rafe’s turn to feel jealousy burn through his chest at the mention of you going on a date with someone else other than him.

“you went on a date?” the calm tone in his voice was now replaced by assertiveness, his jaw clenching as he imagined you getting all dolled up for some loser. “yes.” you don’t know why, but you felt like you had did something wrong. “and you said he was hot?” rafe downed the rest of his drink, pouring himself another shortly after. “yes..” you answered again, a hint of a smile playing on your lips, “i’d fuck him even though i told him it would never happen.” if rafe couldn’t understand what was so similar between you and his personal internet slut then, he definitely knew what it was now. you had to be her.

rafe thought about your words from earlier.

“why i don’t like you, or why i won’t let you fuck me?”

you had such a smart mouth on you, the only thing rafe could think about was how he’d shut you up by filling your throat up with his cock. “it’s funny you say that. i could’ve sworn my brat of a ‘date’ said the same thing to me.” suddenly you felt like you were in enemy territory, every single one of your sensible instincts urging you to hang up the phone. “uhm—” you cleared your throat awkwardly, “i wonder if she has any idea that i’d fuck her senseless if only she’d let me.” your mind drifted off to rafe again, and the way he was looking at you before you left; as if he knew you something you didn’t.

“tell her that next time you talk to her.” you shot back, rolling your eyes as he muttered a ‘i will.’

deciding to move into the cabin inside the druthers, rafe slid the door shut behind him before be turned the lights off, a groan leaving his lips as he took a seat on the couch. “so why’d you call me? you know, since you’re obviously interested in someone else.” rafe scoffed, rolling the tension out of his shoulders before blinking up at the ceiling. he was amused by everything that came out of your mouth. “i’m not interested in anyone else. i think i have you figured out, and if i’m right then this couldn’t be anymore perfect.”

rafe imagined you being the one on the phone with him right now, your hand in between your thighs as you got off to the sound of his voice. he imagined you wearing nothing, those pretty tits of yours on full display. “and if you’re wrong?” you teased. “i’m not. i can’t be.” while you had no idea who he could be envisioning, you had no problem waiting for the day to prove him right or otherwise. “i guess we’ll just have to play the waiting game until we can’t anymore..” rafe hummed in agreement. “well that won’t be very long then.”

you hoped not.

there was a beat of silence before rafe’s voice sounded through your receiver. “sooo.. what are you wearing right now?” you groaned, the cliché and overused line making you shake your head. “you have seriously got to come up with something better to initiate this,” you fiddled with the string of your robe, “but i’ll work with you just this once.” if only you could see the look on rafe’s face right now. “sorry i’m not an experienced phone sex expert, i prefer my sexual encounters in person.” he laughed when you cursed under your breath. “ugh, goodnight.”

while rafe thought you were joking, you had really hung up on him, leaving him both turned on and frustrated.

[10:57 PM] brattydiaries: 1 attachment

[10:57 PM] brattydiaries: and to think.. i really wanted to touch myself. oh well, i’ll see you around ‘country club’

rafe was pissed when he opened your message and saw a picture of you completely naked in your silk robe, his cock stirring at the sight. he could’ve had you rubbing your clit by now if only he would’ve went easy with the remarks.

[11:00 PM] countryclub: you’re gonna make me work hard for it aren’t you.

[11:01 PM] brattydiaries: oh, you have no idea.

and that’s exactly what rafe did. he was persistent, making sure to call you every single night after that until you finally approved of his efforts. he knew from the moment he heard you moan on the phone that it was all worth it.

“f-fuckk, i can’t!” you cried out in frustration as rafe denied you another orgasm. you’ve been at this for an hour now, your panties drenched with your arousal as he taunted you on the other line. “yes you fucking can, you don’t cum until i let you, you understand?” you huffed, your clit aching with sensitivity as you shuddered at his words. “you made me wait all this time to get you like this, you can hold out just a little bit more for me.” rafe grunted, his own hand palming himself through his boxers.

you shuddered, your eyes fluttering shut as he told you all about the things he’d do if he had you there with him. “i’d fucking wreck you, baby,” he moaned, thinking about fucking you to tears until you couldn’t handle it, “fuck’ that attitude right out of you and get you all pathetic and desperate. just like you are right now.” you were at the point where you couldn’t even touch yourself anymore, your orgasm being just in arm’s reach. “please!” you whimpered, your thighs trembling with the need to let go, “i’ve come close so many times already.”

as odd as it may sound, rafe hasn’t let himself cum ever since you two started having phone sex. messaging each other and sending pictures was different— but now that he had your voice in his ears, it made everything feel real. he swore to himself that he wouldn’t let himself finish until he had you in the palms of his hands. maybe it was a way for him to torture himself, but he was determined to make it happen. you were going to be his no matter how long it’d take.

“you’ve gotten so good at begging me for it, you don’t even put up a fight with me anymore.” rafe laughed, thinking about all the times that you were the one turning him down, now you found yourself being completely at his mercy. “..fuck you.” you whined, writhing under your sheets. “soon enough.” rafe whispered, still listening to your pleads. “i could make myself cum right now,” you said breathlessly, “..and you wouldn’t even be able to stop me.” rafe’s jaw clenched, his nostrils flaring slightly as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“do that and you won’t hear from me for three weeks straight. thank god for a block button, right?” you scoffed, your chest rising and falling as you rubbed your thighs together. “matter of fact.. just for that poor excuse of a threat, you’re not cumming at all.” you didn’t get to rebuttal before he hung up, your eyes widening before you groaned. asshole.

“okay, i love our little bottomless mimosa dates but i’m still recovering from last night.” chanel laughed, adjusting the sunnies on her nose. you and your group of girlfriends were out on the patio at the country club, your table filled with fruity drinks and half empty glasses. “oh my god, you should’ve been there, y/n! it got so crazy that someone called the cops and the whole thing had to get shut down.”

you were only paying half attention to what was being said, majority of your focus being.. elsewhere. specifically— rafe out on the golf field, his skin glistening with sweat as the blazing outer banks sun beat down on him. “it sounds crazy.” you hummed, nodding even though you only heard the first half of chanel’s sentence. she eyed you, following your line of vision before a smug grin pulled at her lips.

“so.. how come you’ve been m.i.a?” just as rafe looked up to meet your gaze, you snapped out of your reverie, blinking away. “forreal, it’s like you’ve disappeared these past few weeks.” you looked around at your friends, a nervous laugh escaping from you. how do you even explain to anyone— let alone your best friends, that you haven’t been to any parties or hangouts because you’re too busy getting talked through your third, sometimes fourth, orgasm of the night?

it’s simple; you don’t.

“i’ve been doing a lot of stuff for my parents. it just gets so tiring sometimes, you know?” chanel knew you were lying, but that was a conversation for another time. thankfully, no one questioned you any further and you were free to look back at the man who, for some reason unbeknownst to you, has been plaguing your mind. ever since your little awkward debacle on his boat, you two hadn’t really interacted with one another except the weird lingering stares you’d catch each other doing. you’d be lying if you said things didn’t feel a little bland without having him around as much.

“i’ll be right back.” you excused yourself, swinging your purse over your shoulder as you made your way inside. taking a seat at the empty bar, you looked around cautiously before opening your tumblr messages.

[3:08 PM] brattydiaries: i have on a super short skirt today.. maybe you could catch me somewhere

you stared at the screen for a minute, hoping he’d answer right away before you sighed to yourself and rested your chin in your hand. apart of you couldn’t help but feel bad. you should be outside with your friends right now, engaging in the latest island drama and raving about celebrity gossip but instead you’re here at a bar all by yourself feeling pathetic as ever because you couldn’t help but grow semi-attached to this ‘countryclub’ guy.

“can i buy you something to drink?” you looked up at rafe as he took a seat next to you, his large frame still towering over you even while he was sitting down. your heart started beating in your ears at the close proximity, your eyebrows pinching together at the overwhelming feeling currently swimming in your tummy. you never got nervous in front of guys, but all of a sudden rafe’s thigh is brushing against yours and now you’re shy? gross.

“i was just leaving actually.” you cleared your throat, avoiding the burn of his stare on the side of your face as you quickly scooted out from your chair. you didn’t even get to get up before rafe pushed your seat back in. “i wanna talk to you.” he sounded like he wasn’t going to take no for an answer, the firmness in his tone making you swallow thickly. staring at him for a few moments, you obliged, but not before ordering the most expensive thing on the drink menu.

“so what do you want?” you faced him, watching as he downed his scotch. “i, uhm— are you busy this weekend?” arching a brow, you thanked the bartender once he slid your overly dressed up cocktail in front of you. “yes, very.” no, you weren’t, but he didn’t need to know that. “well.. i would really appreciate it if you could make the time to come over to my place, ‘say around seven?” you blinked, not understanding clearly. “what’s the occasion?” you asked confusingly. “no, not a party. just us two.”

that grabbed your attention immediately. you sat there, replaying his words in your head until it finally registered. “just us? at your house this weekend at seven o’clock?” he nodded. “i already told you i’m never having sex with you, rafe.” the man in front of you rolled his eyes before pinching the bridge of his nose. “god, y/n,” he groaned, “as much as you’re breaking my heart right now, that’s not the reason why i’m inviting you over.” you giggled at the annoyed expression on his face, flipping your hair over your shoulder as he glared at you intently.

“so what’s the reason then? why would i ever go over to your place, rafe? enlighten me. please.” while rafe was secretly hoping you’d just agree and go on with your day, he should’ve known you weren’t going to be easy to obtain. sighing, he leaned in closer, his chest brushing the side of your shoulder. “look; last time we were by ourselves you told me that you didn’t like me because i was talking about you first, which by the way— i want to apologize for,” he started, “i feel like we got off on the wrong foot and i wanna start over.” you turned your head, his face just inches away from your own.

“i should’ve never said anything about you without knowing you first.” you two stayed silent for what felt like an eternity before you softly nudged him away. “okay, i get it, you don’t have to get all softie on me, rafe.” the corner of his lips tugged into a smile when he saw how flustered you got. “is that a yes?” you almost lost it when his fingers brushed yours, your stomach bursting with buttetflies at the small action. “fine,” you sighed, “but i still don’t like you.” rafe blinked slowly, restraining himself from jumping out of his chair. “that’s fine, i’m not asking you to.”

just as you were going to smart mouth him, your phone dinged! with a message from chanel. “well thanks for the drink, i’m going back out.” rafe watched you get up, his eyes trailing down your figure until they settled on your bare legs, your heels clicking against the floor as you walked off. “hey, y/n?” you spun around at the sound of his voice, muttering a ‘what?!’ before he winked.

“cute skirt.”

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[hoshifighting]

— Synopsis: Where you “unfortunately” caught your best friend's roomate—your unsaid enemy—masturbating in their shared apartment. — WC: 4.6k — WARNINGS: smut, monster cock!seungcheol, explicit language and content, overstimulation, dry fucking, oral as a tongue massage (f. receiving)—a reward <3, body fluids (cum), dry humping, cock riding, dumbfication, degradation, aftercare, exhaustion, and DIRTY TALK.

here’s how it always goes with seungcheol:

you walk into a room, he immediately finds something to scoff at. maybe it’s the way you dress, maybe it’s the way you talk, maybe it’s just the fact that you exist in his general vicinity. but it doesn’t matter what you do—he hates you. or, at the very least, that’s what he insists on showing you.

joshua, your best friend and possibly the only person in the world who can tolerate both of you without losing his mind, always tells you to be the bigger person. “he’s not that bad,” he says, as if seungcheol didn’t practically hiss at you last week for sitting on his side of the couch.

but whatever. you don’t go out of your way to piss him off, and he doesn’t go out of his way to be nice. that’s just the way it is.

which is why you hesitate when joshua calls you:

“i swear, i wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important. i left my keys at your place before i flew out, remember?”

“okay, but i literally don’t want to step foot in his apartment,” you stress, cringing at the thought.

“it’s my apartment, too,” joshua deadpans.

you groan, already feeling a headache coming on.

“just go in, grab the folder on my desk, and leave,” he insists. “cheol probably won’t even be home.”

which is how you find yourself standing outside their apartment door, holding joshua’s keys and hyping yourself up like you’re about to enter enemy territory. which, in a way, you are.

you unlock the door, push it open,

and immediately wish you hadn’t.

seungcheol. on the couch. fisting his cock.

your brain short-circuits. like, full shutdown, blue screen, cease all functioning mode.

the man is spread out—legs wide, head tipped back, theres a drop of sweat that drips from his neck aand land in the middle of his chest. hes exposing his toned abs that clench with every up and down of his hand. and his cock is huge. thick from the base to the top and flushed deep red at the tip, veins prominent as his fist works over it.

he’s so lost in it that he doesn’t even register your presence at first, not until he finally cracks his eyes open and sees you standing there, frozen stunned into silence.

the next few seconds happen in slow motion.

his eyes widen. his entire body stiffens. his hand stops.

“WHAT THE FUCK—”

seungcheol scrambles to cover himself, reaching for the nearest thing—which, unfortunately for him, is a shirt that does nothing to hide the absolute tent he’s pitching. his face goes red, splotchy from the neck up, and he looks so flustered that for a split second, you almost feel bad.

“why the fuck are you here?!” he practically barks at you, voice ragged from whatever the fuck he was doing before you ruined his life.

you blink, still processing the image that’s now burned into your brain for eternity. “uh. joshua?”

“what about joshua?!”

“he… he needed a document.”

seungcheol lets out a sound that is so frustrated, so exasperated, that it almost doesn’t register as human. “and you didn’t think to knock?!”

“why would i knock?! i didn’t think anyone would be jerking off in the living room like a fucking pervert—”

“IT’S MY APARTMENT.”

“IT’S JOSHUA’S TOO.”

“HE’S NOT HERE.”

“WELL, NEITHER AM I, NOW.” you turn on your heel, hand reaching for the doorknob. “i’ll just get the doc later—”

but before you can escape, he rasps, “don’t you dare tell joshua about this.”

you pause. smirk. oh, this is fun.

back still facing him, fingers still wrapped around the doorknob. you should leave. should pretend none of this ever happened. but something—some sick, wrong part of you—doesn’t want to.

so you turn. lean back against the door. cross your arms.

“what?” he snaps, shifting on the couch, the shirt still pitifully draped over his lap.

you tilt your head, dragging your gaze slowly down his body—his hard nipples, the taut muscles in his arms, the way his thighs tense like he’s fighting the urge to close them. you can see the way he twitches under the shirt.

“you’re still hard,” you note, your voice syrupy sweet, but your eyes gleam meanly.

seungcheol tenses. “so?”

“so… you’re mad at me for walking in,” you say, cocking a brow, “but you’re still hard as fuck.”

he grits his teeth, but his silence is loud as hell.

so you take a step forward. just one.

his breath hitches.

“cheol.” you coo at him. “you sure you hate me?”

he glares, but it’s weaker now, faltering under your scrutiny. you can see it—the slight tremor in his fingers, the way his pulse jumps in his throat, the way he’s not telling you to stop.

so you take another step.

and another.

until you’re standing right in front of him, the shirt the only barrier between his cock and your eyes.

his jaw tightens. “don’t.”

“don’t what?” you murmur, reaching forward to trace your fingers over his wrist—the one that was just wrapped around his cock. “don’t call you out? don’t get closer? don’t—”

in a flash, he grabs your wrist, yanking you down.

you gasp as you land on his lap, his hands firm on your hips, his cock pressing against your ass through the thin barrier of the shirt and your clothes.

his lips are right by your ear when he growls, “don’t fucking test me.”

you shiver, but you’re not scared, you’re thrilled.

so you shift, pressing back against him, and smirk when he lets out a sharp breath through his nose.

“or what?” you whisper.

his grip tightens. “you really wanna find out?”

your fingers curl into his hair, tugging just enough to make him hiss.

“yeah,” you breathe, lips brushing his jaw. “i do.”

he snaps.

the shirt under you is gone.

his mouth crashes into yours, hot and angry, his hands gripping your waist like he’s trying to burn the shape of you into his palms. his teeth nip at your bottom lip, his tongue prying your mouth open, swallowing the gasp you let out when his fingers dig into your hips.

you grind down, moaning into his mouth when you feel just how fucking thick he is, leaking against your skirt. 

his hands are rough when he yanks your skirt up, bunching the fabric around your waist with no intention of letting it fall back down. you barely have a second to breathe before his fingers push past your thighs, finding the front of your panties hooking his thumb into the damp fabric and pulling it to the side.

the rush of cold air makes you gasp, thighs trying to snap shut, but his thighs pins them open. and maybe, he has a shred of decency in him, because he lets out a low breath and murmurs, “this is gonna be rough.”

no warning. just that.

you should stop him. you should tell him to go slow, to prep you, to at least spit on it—but you don’t, you need to feel this big cock stretching you until every single thought inside your head gets completely erased.

there’s no lube, no prep besides the mess between your thighs, just the torturous process of sinking down.

seungcheol watches all of it. watches the way your lips part, how your lashes flutter, how your nails dig into the skin of his shoulders the lower you go. he’s leaning back against the couch, one hand gripping the plush of your ass, the other wrapped around his base, guiding you onto him like you’re something delicate. like he’s trying to help.

but he’s not.

because he knows what he’s doing when he taps his cockhead against your clit first, dragging the tip through your slick, coaxing out little whimpers that make him smirk. he knows what he’s doing when he presses up, just the tip slipping inside, barely enough to be satisfying but more than enough to make your thighs twitch.

your breath catches in your throat, your whole body twitching up as you take the next inch too fast. your brain is empty, your body is working on instinct, thighs shaking as you brace yourself against him, trying—failing—to push down further.

and he sees it. sees how you’re struggling, sees how your muscles twitch like you’re about to give out, sees how you want to take it but your body is fighting the stretch.

so he helps.

his hands clamp down on your waist.

and then he slams you down.

the sound that leaves your throat is so ruined that he cant help but feel a bit of compassion.

because suddenly you’re full. suddenly you’re sitting completely in his lap, completely engulfed in him, your thighs flush against his, his cock buried so fucking deep that you can feel it pressing up against every nerve inside you.

but when you try to move, try to lift yourself even an inch—nothing.

your thighs won’t cooperate. your muscles won’t listen.

you can’t move.

“oh?” seungcheol tilts his head, smug grin curling at his lips as he grinds up, watching the way your mouth falls open at the sensation.

“too big for you, baby?”

you whimper.

“thought so.”

and then he takes control, because you can’t move—so he does it for you. his hands lift you effortlessly, dragging your hips up before slamming you back down, setting the pace, forcing your body to take what it’s given.

and you can’t think straight anymore. every thrust knocks the air from your lungs, every time he slams you down it punches little whimpers from your throat that only make him hungrier.

“awww… thought you were so tough. but you can’t even fuck yourself on my cock, huh?”

you cry out, body giving up, melting against his chest as you desperately try to follow his rhythm, hips twitching with little, pathetic attempts to keep up. your body isn’t even yours anymore—just a toy, something for seungcheol to use, something he’s breaking in with every brutal roll of his hips. 

his fingers dig into your waist, gripping you so tight it hurts, but the pleasure drowns it out. you’re so deep into it, into him, that every ounce of shame has left your body, every shred of dignity gone. because you can’t do anything but take it, can’t do anything but let him use you like you were made for this.

he tilts his head, watching you fall apart, watching how your thighs tremble with every slap of his hips against yours.

“damn,” he laughs, licking his lips, voice mocking. “you’re making such a fucking mess of yourself.”

you whimper, forehead pressing against his collarbone.

and then he grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“mm-mm, don’t hide now,” he says, smirking. “be a good girl and let me see that dumb little face while i ruin you.”

a sob rips from your throat, high-pitched and wrecked.

he groans, grinding up into you.

“fuck. bet the neighbors can hear you, huh? joshua’s gonna be so fucking embarrassed when he gets a noise complaint for his dumb little best friend getting dicked down like a whore.”

your whole body jerks, a whimper escaping your lips at the humiliation, the filth dripping from his tongue.

and he sees it.

his grin turns cruel.

“oh, you like that?” he taunts, thrusting up so deep your back arches. “you like knowing that you’re loud enough to make it everyone’s fucking problem? that you’re such a good little fucktoy for me that i can’t even keep you quiet?”

you nod, because you can’t lie. his fingers tighten around your jaw, his lips brushing against yours as he coos.

“poor little thing.”

he thrusts up again, so hard, so deep that your whole body bounces, hands scrambling against his chest, voice cracking in a choked-out sob.

and he moans, deep and satisfied, because you’re so fucking perfect for him. because your body is his to use, to mold, to ruin.

“joshua’s gonna kill me c-cheol.”

his hips snap up again, knocking the breath from your lungs.

“but you’ll tell him it was worth it, won’t you, baby?”

he smooths one over your back, pressing down so your tits rub against his burning skin, while the other stays firm on your hip, keeping you still. your body jerks with every pulse of his cock inside you, twitching as you flutter around him, so overstimulated you can’t tell where the pleasure starts or ends.

“s-seungcheol—” his name is nothing but a broken cry, muffled against his neck, but he’s relentless. he doesn’t even let you finish, just shifts his knees slightly and thrusts up into you with all the power in his core.

“fuck,” he hisses when you clamp down, crying out into his skin, and he wraps an arm fully around you to hold you up. “shh, baby, you’re being so loud.”

his hand snakes up your back, fingers tangling into your hair, forcing you to lift your head. you meet his gaze, and it knocks the breath from your lungs. he looks fucked, mouth parted, sweat dripping from his hairline, chest heaving, but he still manages to look at you like he’s about to devour you whole.

“c’mon,” he coos, tilting his head, his grip tightening just enough to make your scalp tingle. “tell me it was worth it. tell me how good my cock is.”

he punctuates it with a sharp snap of his hips and you keen, trying to lift yourself, trying to relieve some of the intensity, but your thighs betray you. seungcheol laughs, breathless but smug, and his fingers press bruises into your skin as he maneuvers you like you weigh nothing.

“see? can’t even move, huh? my poor baby,” he murmurs, voice syrupy sweet, his free hand cupping your cheek now. “you’re just gonna sit here and take it like the perfect fucktoy you are.”

heat prickles at your skin at the words, your brain too fogged up to be embarrassed, too fucked out to do anything but let him guide you. he rocks you against him, making sure you feel every inch of him dragging against your walls, rubbing at all the right places, pressing into you deeper than you thought was even possible.

“you take me so well, baby,” he praises, leaning in to press his lips against yours, just enough to tease. “so fuckin’ tight, so warm—fucking heaven.”

his hand slides between your bodies, two fingers finding your swollen, neglected clit, rubbing slow, deliberate circles over it. the sensation makes your thighs twitch, your nails dig into his back, a fresh wave of tears pooling at the corners of your eyes.

“shhh, i got you, baby,” he whispers, kissing your jaw now, your temple. his fingers on your clit work in time with the slow, torturous grind of his hips. “i got you, yeah? you gonna cum for me? hm?”

he kisses you full on the mouth when you sob, swallowing the sound like he wants to keep it forever. and then he speeds up just a little, rolling your clit with more pressure, meeting every rut of your hips with a firm thrust up.

you shatter.

your whole body seizes, a strangled moan tearing from your throat as you clamp down so tight on him that it sends him tumbling over the edge with you. he groans, long and low, holding you so tight against him that you can feel every pulse of his cum inside you, hot and deep. his hips jerk once, twice more before he stills, forehead pressed against yours as you both gasp for air.

it’s quiet for a moment, the only sounds are the distant hum of the city outside the window, and the soft squelch when he finally shifts, making you both moan.

your body trembles like a leaf caught in the wind, and seungcheol drinks it in, the heat of your overstimulated form twitching against his chest as he presses slow, lingering kisses into the curve of your neck. his lips move down, sucking at the pulse point that hammers beneath your skin. your breath stutters. his fingers, nails just barely grazing, trail down the arch of your spine, featherlight but enough to make you shiver. you barely even realize you’re moving, the last bit of strength in your boneless limbs used to weakly push yourself up, to let his cock slip free from where it’s buried inside you. 

the second it leaves you, your body gives out. you collapse right into his chest, heavier than before, spent and trembling, the exhaustion hitting all at once. you can’t even pretend to be embarrassed about it. you just sigh, your lips brushing the base of his throat as you settle against him, body limp.

seungcheol holds you steady with both hands, like he’s afraid you might melt right into the couch and disappear. his broad palm cradles the back of your head, fingers splaying across your scalp, scratching at your roots. he keeps the other hand wrapped around your waist, thumb stroking absentmindedly against your ribs. the tension in his body hasn’t left yet. his shoulders are still tight. you know him well enough to know what’s coming before he even says it.

“you good?” 

you hum in response, nuzzling into his chest as your fingers curl weakly against his pecs. “just a little sore.”

he exhales through his nose. shifts beneath you. you can feel his fingers flex where they rest on your waist, like he wants to squeeze but holds himself back. then, with zero effort, he grips the back of your neck and lifts you up, just enough to force you to look at him. your lids are heavy, half-lidded, dazed, and fuck, that shouldn’t make him feel so possessive, but it does.

his thumb sweeps across your cheek, his jaw tensing. “shit. i’m sorry,” he murmurs, eyes scanning over your features like he’s searching for anything more than just exhaustion. “lemme take care of you, hm?”

you don’t have it in you to resist, don’t even want to. you let him move you, let him handle you like you weigh nothing as he lifts you from his lap and shifts you onto the couch, laying you down as if you’re something delicate. and maybe you are, now, after the way he ruined you. maybe that’s why you don’t fight him when he presses your thighs apart, watching as they just fall open on their own, spread wide like a doll.

you don’t have the strength to do much else than whimper softly as his thumbs spread you further, gaze locked onto your swollen cunt, still so slick from where he fucked you. his jaw clenches.

you don’t even get a warning before he moves in, before his hands grip your thighs to keep them open as he dives between them, mouth sealing over your clit in one slow stroke of his tongue.

you jolt, a weak little gasp punching from your lungs. your fingers barely find the energy to tangle into his hair, and the grip is nowhere near as firm as it usually is, but he groans anyway. whether it’s from the feeling of your grip or from the way you instantly react to him, you don’t know. but he doesn’t stop.

his tongue moves slow, warm and so fucking wet as he licks broad, flat strokes over your sensitive flesh, working you open again with patience. he isn’t trying to overstimulate, isn’t trying to get you off again—though you can already tell it wouldn’t take much. his focus is entirely on easing the ache, on massaging every tender inch of you with his mouth, his lips, his tongue.

“feels good?” his voice is muffled against you, but it vibrates in just the right way.

you nod, breath hitching when he sucks your clit into his mouth, tongue rolling it in slow circles. your body twitches, heat curling at the base of your spine. “cheol…”

he moans against you, and presses you down harder against his face. your hips jump, an embarrassing whimper breaking free as his tongue dips lower, tracing around your entrance before dragging back up, collecting every bit of slick along the way.

you whine, fingers curling tighter in his hair. he doesn’t tease. doesn’t prolong it. just keeps his pace slow and steady, gentle enough to soothe, firm enough to keep you on the edge of something, even if you’re too sensitive to chase it. and if the way he’s grinding his hips into the couch tells you anything—it’s that he’s just as affected as you are.

he’s not eating you out to get himself off, but fuck if it isn’t working.

the obscene sounds of his mouth working between your thighs filling the entire apartment, mixing in with your breathless moans and the way he groans right into your cunt. you don’t even have it in you to be embarrassed about the way your cum is smeared all over his chin, his jaw, his cheeks—how it drips down onto the couch below with every intentional roll of his tongue against your entrance.

his tongue works in circles, pressing flat to your hole before dragging up again, tasting every bit of your arousal as it gushes out onto his lips. his mouth is open the entire time, tongue rolling and flicking, nose nudging against your clit as he angles his head lower. he flattens his tongue, groaning as he drags it up through your folds before plunging it into you, so messy that you swear you see white behind your eyelids.

your back arches, chest rising in sharp, hiccupped gasps, every single nerve in your body on flames. your thighs twitch in his grasp, and he squeezes them tighter, keeping you spread open just for him. his hands slide up, one wrapping firmly around your waist, keeping you pinned in place, while the other travels up, up—his fingers finding the stiff peaks of your nipples.

your eyes snap open, a gasp catching in your throat as he rolls one between his fingertips, twisting just enough to make your eyes roll. you swear you hear him chuckle against you, like he knows exactly what he’s doing to you.

“breathe,” he murmurs, lips brushing against your clit before sucking it between his teeth, tongue rolling in lazy, teasing circles on the swollen bud. “breathe for me, baby.”

you try. you really do. but the way his mouth moves, the way his fingers tweak and pull, it’s too much. you’re spiraling. you feel another orgasm creeping up so fast it steals the air right out of your lungs.

he sees it. he knows.

his grip tightens on your thigh, his tongue flicking faster, working you open as his free hand continues to play with your tits, kneading the soft flesh, fingers rolling your nipples in rhythm with the lazy grind of his tongue against your clit.

your moans turn high-pitched, desperate. your body twists beneath him, unable to keep still as the pleasure builds, climbing higher and higher.

but then—a whimper.

not from you.

from him.

you force your heavy lids open, head lolling to the side as you try to focus on him. and fuck, the sight that greets you is almost enough to make you cum then and there.

seungcheol is rutting against the couch. grinding, fucking humping it like a damn dog, his hips rolling in slow thrusts, his rock-hard cock straining against his stomach, smearing precum all over his abs and the fabric beneath him.

he whimpers again, this time louder, his brows furrowed, his breath coming in short, uneven pants.

“fuck,” he groans, mouth still pressed against you, voice muffled by the way his tongue keeps working you over. he pulls back just enough to speak, his lips glistening, his chin soaked. his eyes are dark, glassy, pupils blown wide as he looks up at you. “can’t—fuck, i can’t stop. you taste too good.”

your chest tightens, a desperate, aching cry slipping from your lips as you clutch at his hair, thighs twitching in his grasp. “cheol—gonna—gonna cum, oh my god—”

he moans, actually fucking moans, his hips grinding down harder against the couch as he redoubles his efforts, tongue circling your clit in precise, teasing flicks, his fingers pinching your nipples just hard enough to send you over the edge.

your body locks up. your back arches. your mouth falls open, a silent scream tearing from your throat as your orgasm crashes over you, all-consuming.

seungcheol doesn’t stop. doesn’t slow down. he works you through it like it’s his mission, licking you clean, his tongue rolling over your entrance, collecting every last drop as your body trembles violently beneath him.

your chest heaves, your vision blurring, but even through the haze, you can feel him still grinding against the couch, still so fucking hard and desperate, all because of you.

your brain is slow. dial-up connection slow. everything feels like it’s underwater, your body floating somewhere between consciousness and the best orgasm-induced coma of your life. it’s warm, so warm, like your body is still riding out the fever of your high, tongue pressed against the roof of your mouth, throat dry, muscles heavy like they’re full of sand.

you don’t even remember when it happened—when you blacked out, when you got moved. just flashes of cool wipes dragging over your skin, a damp cloth pressed between your thighs, seungcheol’s hands gentle, careful, murmuring something you were too gone to comprehend. like déjà vu, like something out of a dream.

but you’re awake now. sort of. and you’re in his bed.

the sheets are soft, cool against your fevered skin, and it feels so good that you can’t help the tired, pleased moan that slips past your lips, involuntary, barely conscious.

but it’s enough to make him look at you.

you blink, vision still a little hazy, but yeah, that’s definitely seungcheol, sitting at his desk, dressed in a loose shirt and sweats, hair damp, probably from a shower. there’s a slight smirk on his lips, but his eyes are soft as they sweep over you, taking in the way you’re still half-buried in his sheets, limbs heavy, body relaxed.

then it hits you.

the documents.

joshua.

fuck.

your eyes widen, and you jolt up too fast, regretting it immediately when the soreness between your thighs protests, a sharp ache shooting up your spine. “fuck—”

seungcheol’s already up, one hand pressing to your shoulder, guiding you back down before you can do any more damage. “hey, hey, relax. you’re gonna hurt yourself.”

“the—documents,” you mumble, eyes fluttering shut again as the exhaustion creeps back in. “joshua.”

he chuckles, and you open your eyes just in time to see him shaking a small stack of papers in his hand. “yeah, yeah. i got it. sent them over while you were passed out.”

you frown, groggy. “i was supposed to send them.”

“and joshua needs to get used to me handling shit for you,” he says, grinning as he sets the papers down. “besides, he’d probably prefer not to get another noise complaint under his name.”

your face heats up instantly. “oh my god.”

“mhmm,” seungcheol hums, tilting his head. “wanna know how loud you were?”

“no.”

he laughs, reaching out to brush a stray strand of hair from your face, thumb tracing your cheek. “then go back to sleep, baby.”

you glare at him. or, at least, you try to. it’s weak, and he knows it, because all it takes is one more stroke of his thumb before your eyes flutter shut again, body sinking further into his bed.

yeah. you can fight him about the joshua thing later. maybe. probably not.

[killerbait]

BULLY ABBY ..?! bullying abby with a dick u wear glasses asphyxiation

⏦ﾟ♡︎ — bully!abby who picks on you relentlessly for years. you never understood why, or what you did to piss her off so much that she made you the prime target to her torment.

you spent day after day examining yourself, searching for something so wrong with you that it made you perfect bully-bait. but after finding nothing that bad, you come to the conclusion that abby anderson is just an asshole.

⏦ﾟ♡︎ — bully!abby who is stupidly rich. her father is a surgeon, practically a monarch in salt late city, who makes a whole lot of money. that, and her exceptional grades, merits in sports and popularity, makes her incredibly cocky and almost insufferable to be around for more than 15 seconds. the twin shackles of jealousy and emotion damage makes you hate her.

⏦ﾟ♡︎ — bully!abby who gets away with fucking everything. the coach worships the squeaky, marble gym floor she walks on, the teachers fail to see past the deceiving, charming personality and exceeding grades, and the principal knows her father personally. not to mention the students who kiss her ass like it's a full time job— you were alone in hating her, or at least, nobody was brave enough to announce it. abby had eyes and ears everywhere.

⏦ﾟ♡︎ — bully!abby who bugs you more and more as the years drag on, starting to ignore the other nerds. she throws paper at you in class, trips you up in the hallways, shoves you into the sink in the bathrooms, smacks your books out of your hands so the heavy cases slam on your feet— the whole stereotypical bully schedule.

when it first started, you cried every day. but now, it's routine, and just annoys you and makes you eager to never see her again after the year is over. and you were so close! until she catches you in the locker room.

your glasses were fogged up, the lenses blurred and the frames askew on the bridge of your nose. you're sure you looked a mess, and you're certain the person you were knelt in front of you was enjoying every second.

"i might of fucked this pretty face sooner if you weren't such a loser," abby snickers, giving you a second to breathe before slowly feeding you her cock again, her grip on the back of your head making sure you couldn't pull away.

she guides you down, feeling the ridges of your esophagus rub against her shaft until your nose was pressed against her pelvis, your throat contracting with another gag and coughing up another load of spit that dribbles off her balls snug against your chin.

your hands fly up to her muscular thighs as she resumes fucking your mouth, guiding you back and forth and ignoring how you slobber and tear up.

"don't touch me." abby's growl makes you pull away, your nails scratching at the tile floors instead. you're not sure if it's just you that pisses her off, or if she was a hothead in general— she barely gives you time to think before her thumb and side of forefinger press on either side of your nose, continuing to choke you on her dick.

your stomach clenches with another gag as your air gets cut off, already having been struggling to breathe with her stuffing your gullet full and now without the struggle of desperately huffing through your nose. you come to the conclusion that she just hates you too.

your feet kick at the lack of air as her cock fucks in and out of your throat, and right before you reach your limit, she lets go and pulls out. you pant and blubber, whimpering when her fingers curl in your hair to keep you in place.

she pushes your glasses up your nose before her hand wraps around her thick, spit coated cock, her fist mimicking the tightness of your throat and making a nasty squelching sound. you watch as the head drools with pre-cum the more she strokes her shaft, the veins starting to throb.

you flinch a little as she groans louder, shifting her weight. her thighs tense as her orgasm rakes through her body, tightening her grip on your hair as ropes of sticky cum splatter over your glasses, in your hair and rolling into your mouth.

you look downright stupid, face covered in your bully's load and lathered in your own spit and tears under her, throat raw and ego bruised.

out of all the degrading things abby had done to you over the years, this had to be your favorite.

⏦ﾟ♡︎ taglist !

@uhh-lana @pearlcigs @abbyspup @graciedollie @starrrcane @lilyyx0 @444fernz @tqlepatia @nvr4getme @2012wannabe @jaywritessometimes @jinxedbambi @tohoko @sapphicloverwlw @shadowmythe @fict1onallyobsessed @pornoangelz @milanyas @powderpinkandsweeet @femmecannibal @aeroti @eatencupcak3 @lils-1979 @sobersonder @fawncritter @nahcala @lesbones @sapphicantichrist @ethereaally @ruelezz @cowgirlvi @90yearoldbear

[mysteriousubstance]

The issue is that some of them don't care.

My dad is a strong trump supporter. The debt is is biggest worry. He wants immagrints to be deported because he thinks they are the cause of the debt of our country and that what Elon is doing is a good start to the debt.

When arguing with my mom, she brought Guantanamo Bay up. "I don't have to support everything he does when he'll mostly do good he said" When she asked for one good thing Trump has done, he said something about the MLK assassination and CIA being defunded. She asked for more and instead of giving more, he said "nothing will ever be enough." It was an impasse and now my mom isn't allowed to bring up politics.

Many Trump supporters are willing to turn a blind eye to concentration camps. Nothing will ever be enough to support trump when his orders are ACTIVLEY killing people.

Many say "the government would never do that." They're also turning a blind eye.

When people turn a blind eye to this sort of thing, those in power keep going. That's how it works and will always work. Please don't do that. Please. At the VERY least acknowledge that our government is fucked up right now and hurting people. That's the bare minimum. And people aren't even hitting that

A reminder to the "the American government wouldn't..." crowd. They have. They have made their own internment camps before. They have rounded up innocent citizens and immigrants before. The victims of which are still alive to this day and trying to share their stories with the world, they have been trying to warn us for a long time. George Takei (as seen above) is a famous example of this. He has written about his experiences time and time again, even publishing a book talking about his time in these camps. He may be famous now, but at the time he was just another kid forced from his home. To this day he still firmly dedicates himself to trying to educate and inform people, trying to spread awareness with his platform. The American Government can and will do terrible things. Do not let anyone convince you otherwise.

[fleuriion]

✦ Chiming Bell ノ MODERN! High school hcs with the Chrysos Heir because I love them so much ⸝⸝ gn reader ⸝⸝ wc: 1780 ✦ Note ; The usual grammar error and spelling mistakes warning ⸝⸝ if they come across as ooc then I apologize because I'm still not very confident in my ability of writing HSR characters haha ⸝⸝ This can be interpreted as both romantic and platonic as your liking! ⸝⸝ will probably edit out some mistakes ⸝⸝ I'm very sorry for not including Hyacine TT

♡ Phainon ⸝⸝ I feel like he's kind of a jock BUT also not a jock. Like, he's not THOSE jocks that get angry at you if you cannot catch the ball that is beaming at 1000 mph to your face. ⸝⸝ Those popular kids that are actually super nice to everyone. I feel like he doesn't judge people much and if he does dislike someone, will not rub it in their face unless they deserve to. ⸝⸝ Basically just a ray of sunshine. Definitely has Mydei as his seatmate and I just imagine Phainon walking into class greeting everyone every morning and then Mydei is just sitting there massaging his temple, wondering how he's so bright this early. ⸝⸝ While he's generally super nice, I think Phainon is also pretty mischievous though. I can already imagine him getting into some light troubles and then having to sweep the hallway as a punishment LMAO. ⸝⸝ Probably enjoys learning history and literature, he just gets super sleepy and perhaps bored in them. Decent at math but HORRIBLE at science like chemistry. Phainon comes up to Mydei as lab partner and Mydei prays the two of them don't get involved in any sorts of explosion or chemical accident /j ⸝⸝ When Phainon is pinning on you, he will 100% turn into a golden retriever. Follows you around in a non-creepy way, helps you carry stuff, probably tries tutoring you the best he could, sometimes ask to have lunch together and then drags you to the rest of his friends. ⸝⸝ Gets super shy about it and it didn't escape his friends. Also gets not bullied but teased a lot for it, when you walked past them far enough, I feel like most likely Mydei would go "holy shit is that Phainon's lover walking past by just now?!" ⸝⸝ When he announced that the two of you are dating to his friends, they would hold their pearl necklace and pretend like they're shocked (except it's so purposefully exaggerated it's hilarious wow Phainon you're so slick!) ♡ Aglaea ⸝⸝ I hc'd that the Chrysos Heir is basically akin to the Student Council in the modern world, so expect no less that Aglaea is definitely the president or at the VERY least the vice president. ⸝⸝ That one strict classmate who always looks her best and behaves the best too. Probably a class president or rep too?? Would reprimand her classmates or the other students to mind both their attire and attitude. ⸝⸝ Teacher's pet, except she's one that you can't really walk over or trample. Girl just has that aura in her for not only being smart but also beautiful?!?! (My GOAT Aglaea as always) ⸝⸝ Looks scary at first glance, but if you need her help with studying she would help say no more! That one meme that goes like "would you let me copy your homework?" "no, but I'll help you with it" ⸝⸝ This may sound pretty personal and specific but hc that she excels and enjoys public speaking. Her words and articulations are probably amazing if you get what I mean... ⸝⸝ Honestly, if she is pinning on you? Nobody would pretty much find out about it unless she personally said so. I'm sorry but Aglaea strikes off to me as the type to be super good at hiding aka slick with her feelings for someone. (Ironically for being the bearer of Mnestia's coreflame in lore lol) ⸝⸝ So when she told her friends that you two are dating, their surprise is actually real and pure. ⸝⸝ It's still noticeable though subtle tho! Aglaea will be extra mindful of you and will no doubt worry about your grades and your performance. Would help you study even if it takes time say less! ♡ Mydei

⸝⸝ Similarly to Phainon, seems like a jock but isn't too much of a jock once you get to know about him. I think it's pretty much just a first impression since he's physically well built and healthy. For someone with his looks, Mydei is a pretty quiet and calm seatmate, ones targeted by people who is just full on comical nonsense (Trailblazer for instance…. They're so stupid I love them).

⸝⸝ Seemingly messy appearance (that slightly loose collar and messily tied tie fix that rn Mydei i hate hastily tied tie and sometimes spends 5 minutes redoing it if I couldn't get it right sobs), but is actually very discipline and a pretty decent student. Also hc that he uses reading glasses.

⸝⸝ Bluddy is probably the first to arrive at class and is usually pretty punctual with a few exceptions being made. Definitely that one friend who sleeps early and wakes up early. Probably lets you copy his homework just so you can get off his ass.

⸝⸝ Excels at history, terrible at math, probably decent at chemistry??? Hear me out though, he's terrible at math and physics but he's interested in them so it's kind of a party pooper LAMFAO (self projecting). Mydei doesn't hate it, he probably just doesn't understand it.

⸝⸝ Those type of guys that people are scared of because of his appearance, but is actually good with juniors. He helps them with studying and getting the subject's concept wrapped around their head and somehow patient for a man that doesn't look like he has patience at all.

⸝⸝ When Mydei pins on you, he won't look nor act THAT much different around you. If you're a much more comical or hilarious kind of person, he endures and tolerates you more. He will offer more lending hands though; for instance, explaining things you don't understand more, willingly tutors you, sneaks gifts into your desk or locker and then softly denies it when questioned (you're not slick bro.)

⸝⸝ Mydei doesn't announce it if you two are dating, rather, his friends found out on their own by the slight flush on his face when he's around you and the way his fierce eyes seemed to simmer down a little when you're around.

♡ Castorice

⸝⸝ SUPER quiet and probably finds it hard to communicate all the time. The reason people know her is mostly because she's apart of the Student Council, but that aside, she's also super kind and nice!

⸝⸝ Hangs around Aglaea a lot and acts as her 'assistant' or similar. Also a teacher's pet except on the more mellow side and one that even the meanest of the mean doesn't have the heart to mock.

⸝⸝ She probably could be vice president.. But that's just a rough gut and because I see her as one. Also reprimands her classmates and other students to be mindful of their attire and attitude.

⸝⸝ Generally good at any subjects given, but I hc that Castorice really likes art and music classes. The atmosphere is quieter and much more peaceful that even her mind could rest a little. Definitely joins clubs like sewing club.

⸝⸝ Sometimes sleeps on recess because I see her as those super-tired looking type of people who can doze off while standing but refrains on doing so in classes. Due to this, probably picks the seat closer to the window to hide away from the lights at the center of the class.

⸝⸝ When Castorice pins on you, she will subtly get super shy around you. Sometimes stutters on her speech and is extra polite at you much to the awkwardness. Be prepared for cuteness overload!!

⸝⸝ Castorice definitely makes things for you! A small crochet plush, flower crowns, or some fake flowers that reminds her of you. Surfs into flower language to express her affection to you by making said flowers for you!

⸝⸝ Castorice would reluctantly yet shyly declares her love for you one random evening, and the rest of the Chyrsos Heir is totally NOT spying at you two from behind some bushes. ♡ Anaxa

⸝⸝ This man is canonically a professor according to the in-game lore what else do I need to say??

⸝⸝ That one smart kid who's super snarky and sarcastic. If you think Mydei is pretty sarcastic for someone, then behold Anaxagoras and his sharp yet elegant tongue that totally does not remind me of a certain doctor.

⸝⸝ He definitely no doubt enjoys subjects science related. Chemistry, physics, biology, name it. Yet nobody really dares to approach him and ask him to be their lab partner due to, again, the aura that surrounds him. You feel like you're shrinking per second you stand next to him if you don't know anything about him. Also hc that he enjoys scientific debates.

⸝⸝ He probably goes overseas to attend science olympics like a lot, and obviously comes back with victory by his side. He's probably academic rivals with Aglaea haha. I can just see them competing for the school's 1st place.

⸝⸝ Anaxa gets avoided by plenty people because of his personality, but he doesn't pay any mind nor does he care about it. After all, his only interest currently is knowledge, isn't it..?

⸝⸝ Well that's until you, who doesn't seem to be that much avoidant of him, came along to his life. Anaxa is that one person that goes deep into denial when he has feelings for someone. "NO. WDYM I HAVE FEELINGS FOR THEM. FUCK."

⸝⸝ The rest of the Chrysos Heir found out about this when one random day, Anaxa suddenly came up to Hyacine and started asking her questions related to feelings that are leaning a little bit tooooo much on the romantic side (much to his dismay and denial). Even with his denial, he found himself coming up to the pink haired girl and asking her about this… Very foreign feeling of what she described as "butterflies fluttering in his stomach" and a suspiciously big grin on her face.

⸝⸝ Like Phainon, Anaxa doesn't escape the constant teasing from the Chrysos Heir for this, mainly Aglaea. She will devilishly giggle into her fingertips and make subtle jabs at him when she talks to you; "[name], do you have just any idea how breathtaking you are?" while giving Anaxa looks to which he responded with not only a glare but a suspiciously burning pair of ear tips <3

[spacetimeaccordionfolder]

Rereading the Sunlit Man and I am cracking up at the idea of the Cinder King reading about the Blackthorn's war crimes and Dalinar's "Unite them" and making that into a messed up bucket list "wow this guy is right I should set fire to people who disagree with me and I should unite everyone under my banner by force! this conqueror gets it!" Somewhere in the cosmere/ the beyond Dalinar's ghost is very disturbed. Cinder King's kicking his feet doodling fiery hearts around the blackthorns name not knowing that if they ever met he would be obliterated in an instant. Nomad has every right to laugh in this guy's face. Imagine being on the run for 300 years and then some guy with glowing red eyes on some tiny planet in the middle of nowhere quotes your old boss at you and asks your old boss would be proud of him. And then has the audacity to break an oath around a rosharan.

[jbird-the-manwich]

"You should also make it a bannable offense to edit other user's images with AI." .... Why, exactly?

You should make it a bannable offense to use a feature you specifically happen to not like? A feature of the *app* that users have running on their own devices?

Has it ever occurred to you that you might be advocating for behaving like petty dictators over some reachy whataboutisms???

Explain to me what exactly everyone is supposed to be "protesting" en masse because you are literally mad about a computational process you don't understand half as well as you think you do, *and* you're literally, publicly advocating that *other* peoples usage of the feature should be actively policed as a social default.

I hope you have some recent peer-reviewed research, at the very least, that proves these apps function like you think they do before you go advising people to segregate over whatever boogie men prompted this ridiculous post.

You'd sure look awful silly if image processing models turned out to be not capable of actively peeping every image in a server rather than only those passed to the model by a user. or of producing copies of individual artists styles without intentionally maliciously generated prompts to do so. You'd sure look awful silly if you didn't actually know most of what you were talking about while you advise people to implement new social exclusion criteria with shit all to stand on but vague, fear-based arguments.

So, Discord has added a feature that lets other people "enhance" or "edit" your images with different AI apps. It looks like this:

Currently, you can't opt out from this at all. But here's few things you can do as a protest.

FOR SERVERS YOU ARE AN ADMIN IN

Go to Roles -> @/everyone roles -> Scroll all the way down to External Apps, and disable it. This won't delete the option, but it will make people receive a private message instead when they use it, protecting your users:

You should also make it a bannable offense to edit other user's images with AI. Here's how I worded it in my server, feel free to copypaste:

Do not modify other people's images with AI under ANY circumstances, such as with the Discord "enhancement" features, amidst others. This is a bannable offense.

COMPLAIN TO DISCORD

There's few ways to go around this. First, you can go to https://support.discord.com/hc/en-us/requests/new , select Help and Support -> Feedback/New Feature Request, and write your message, as seen in the screenshot below.

For the message, here's some points you can bring up:

Concerns about harassment (such as people using this feature to bully others)

Concerns about privacy (concerns on how External Apps may break privacy or handle the data in the images, and how it may break some legislations, such as GDPR)

Concerns about how this may impact minors (these features could be used with pictures of irl minors shared in servers, for deeply nefarious purposes)

BE VERY CLEAR about "I will refuse to buy Nitro and will cancel my subscription if this feature remains as it is", since they only care about fucking money

Word them as you'd like, add onto them as you need. They sometimes filter messages that are copypasted templates, so finding ways to word them on your own is helpful.

ADDING: You WILL NEED to reply to the mail you receive afterwards for the message to get sent to an actual human! Otherwise it won't reach anyone

UNSUSCRIBE FROM NITRO

This is what they care about the most. Unsuscribe from Nitro. Tell them why you unsuscribed on the way out. DO NOT GIVE THEM MONEY. They're a company. They take actions for profit. If these actions do not get them profit, they will need to backtrack. Mass-unsuscribing from WOTC's DnD beyond forced them to back down with the OGL, this works.

LEAVE A ONE-STAR REVIEW ON THE APP

This impacts their visibility on the App store. Write why are you leaving the one-star review too.

_

Regardless of your stance on AI, I think we can agree that having no way for users to opt out of these pictures is deeply concerning, specially when Discord is often used to share selfies. It's also a good time to remember internet privacy and safety- Maybe don't post your photos in big open public servers, if you don't want to risk people doing edits or modifications of them with AI (or any other way). Once it's posted, it's out of your control.

Anyways, please reblog for visibility- This is a deeply concerning topic!

[gf2bellamy]

hi lovely you know that part in s6ep19 where Spencer says he can’t sleep and can’t focus on cases and he looks like he just needs a BIG HUG could you please write something about reader comforting him- either as bau agent or as just significant other because no one else will do the comfort justice the way you can okay love you bye

sleep — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: established relationship , mention of spencer looking / being exhausted a/n: hi hi !! honestly that ep always makes my heart hurt bc he looked so so so so exhausted :( i hope i did your request justice <3

You should have felt hurt. Or sad. Or at least disappointed. But you didn’t.

Maybe you were too used to this by now—the way Spencer threw himself into work until his body had no choice but to shut down. The way he lost track of time, of himself, of you.

Still, you hadn’t expected to hear it from Penelope.

She had called you after they returned from the case, her voice hesitant, choosing her words carefully. That alone told you enough. Spencer hadn’t stopped by your apartment like he usually did.

No texts. No calls. Nothing.

“He wouldn’t stop working,” she had said. “Hotch had to practically drag him up to his hotel room, and even then, I don’t think he actually slept.”

That was worse than normal.

You knew Spencer had a habit of pushing himself past his limits, but this time, he hadn’t even come to you. And that was what worried you the most.

So you didn’t care if you seemed clingy or overbearing. You didn’t care if he might have wanted space. You weren’t going to let him spiral alone.

Grabbing your jacket, you shoved your arms through the sleeves, barely taking the time to lock the door behind you as you rushed out of your apartment. Fifteen minutes later, you were standing in front of Spencer’s door, your heart hammering against your ribs as you knocked.

There was a long pause. Then, finally, the door creaked open.

The moment you saw him, you had to fight the urge to physically react.

He looked exhausted.

His hair was more disheveled than usual, messy strands sticking up like he’d been running his fingers through it nonstop. The dark circles under his eyes were worse than you’d ever seen them—deep, almost bruised-looking hollows. His usually sharp cheekbones were even more pronounced.

“What are you doing here?” His voice was hoarse, rough like he hadn’t used it in hours.

“Checking up on you,” you said simply.

You stepped inside without giving him the chance to protest, pushing the door closed behind you. Spencer just stood there, watching as you toed off your shoes and shrugged out of your jacket, hanging it neatly on the rack by the door—like this was just any other night, like nothing was wrong.

But something was wrong.

And you weren’t going to let him brush it aside.

“Okay, come on.” You reached for his hand as you pulled him toward his bedroom.

He didn’t resist.

He followed wordlessly, exhaustion weighing down his every step. Inside, you went straight to his closet, flipping through the hangers until you found what you were looking for. One of his favorite sweaters—the soft brown one that you’d seen him wear countless times.

You pulled it from the hanger and turned back to him, pressing it into his hands.

“Put this on,” you murmured.

Spencer stared down at the sweater for a moment before looking at you, his gaze unreadable.

“Who told you?” he asked as he pulled the fabric over his head, the movement slow and tired.

“Penelope.”

“Of course.” He sighed, adjusting the sleeves, his fingers lingering on the hem. Now dressed in the familiar comfort of his sweater, he looked back at you. “Now what?”

You didn’t reply. Instead, you stepped closer, wrapping your arms around him without hesitation.

Spencer froze.

For a moment, he didn’t move—like he wasn’t sure how to react. But you didn’t let go. Your arms stayed firm around his neck, your fingers curling into the soft fabric of his sweater as you pressed yourself against him.

With your lips close to his ear, you murmured, “I don’t know what’s bothering you, but I love you, Spence. And I’m here for you.”

That was all it took.

The tension in his body gave way as he exhaled a shaky breath, and then, finally, he hugged you back.

His arms tightened around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer, his grip almost desperate. His lips brushed against your shoulder, lingering there.

You were pretty sure you stood there for at least five minutes, wrapped in each other’s warmth, neither of you speaking. You only pulled back when you felt him loosen his grip first.

Leaning back slightly, you placed your hands on his face, your thumbs gently tracing over the sharp planes of his cheekbones, soothing him. His skin was warm beneath your touch.

“You need to sleep,” you murmured, your gaze flickering over the dark circles under his eyes again.

“I can’t,” he admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

“You have to try.”

One of your hands drifted up, fingers slipping through his unruly curls, smoothing them down. A slow, comforting motion. He stayed quiet, his tired eyes searching yours like he was trying to memorize the way you looked at him.

After a moment, he finally spoke.

“Will you stay?” His voice was soft, hesitant, almost like he was afraid of the answer.

A small smile tugged at your lips.

“You have to ask?”

His lips parted slightly, as if he wanted to say something else, but before he could, you dropped your hand from his hair and turned toward his bed. Pulling back the blankets, you glanced at him expectantly.

“Come on,” you urged.

Spencer hesitated for only a second before stepping forward. He sat down on the edge of the bed, rubbing a hand over his face, exhaustion radiating from every movement. You slipped in beside him, settling against the pillows, waiting for him to follow.

And he did.

Without a word, he laid down, turning onto his side so he could face you.

You reached out, your fingers grazing his wrist before sliding down to intertwine with his.

“Close your eyes, Spence,” you whispered.

And, for the first time in days, he did.

Spencer stayed beside you, but sleep still wasn’t coming easily. Even as his body slumped against the bed, his fingers twitched slightly, his breaths uneven. His mind was still running, and you could feel it—like an engine that refused to shut off.

You sighed, adjusting your position. You guided him toward you without a word.

Spencer blinked at you, puzzled, until you tugged on his arm again. “Spence, come here.”

He hesitated for only a second before shifting, laying his head against your shoulder, his body half-draped over yours. His long limbs folded awkwardly at first, like he wasn’t sure how to settle, but then he exhaled, the weight of him sinking into you.

You ran your fingers through his hair, smoothing down the curls. “You’re really bad at this whole relaxing thing, you know that?”

He let out a quiet huff against your shoulder. “Yeah, I’ve been told.”

“I mean, I shouldn’t be surprised. Your brain is like a hamster on a wheel. A very fast, very anxious hamster.”

Spencer made a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a sigh. “That’s… not inaccurate.”

You grinned a little, continuing to comb your fingers through his hair. “Well, tell the hamster to take a break. He’s had a long day.”

Spencer hummed, shifting slightly, pressing his face closer into the crook of your neck. “The hamster is skeptical.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “The hamster needs to trust me.”

He was quiet for a moment, his breathing a little slower now. “I do.” His voice was softer, more tired.

You smiled, rubbing slow circles against his back. “Good.”

It still took a while. He fidgeted, exhaled sharply once or twice, but you just kept holding him, kept whispering small, mindless things—about how tired you were, how unfair it was that he had such nice hair when he barely even tried, how you were absolutely stealing one of his sweaters in the morning.

And finally, finally, his breathing evened out.

His body went still, warm and heavy against yours, his grip on your shirt slackening as he actually drifted off.

You smirked, murmuring softly, “See? Even the hamster gets tired eventually.”

And, for the first time all night, he didn’t respond.

[keferon]

I just imagined once Jazz and Prowl escape, Prowl darts off a little bit away, because heck yeah he's free and swim properly again, forgetting for a split second that Jazz is with him

and Jazz panics in that split second that Prowl really is going to leave him

And he would be noticeably faster than Jazz too. At least at the start.

Heh I was thinking of the escape scene and how like. For the first half it’s Jazz almost dragging Prowl with him through all possible obstacles because Prowl has very little practice in navigating the surface. Especially buildings!

But then it’s the part when the Tsunami hits and they have this tiny amount of time when water goes up to their building. So they has to swim FAST or they will be just stuck on land so. The roles reversed and now Prowl has to prety much drag Jazz along because Jazz is very much lost on what to do and where to go and how to even navigate in all those big waves and currents

[venusalexian]

solet • let me do this for you

part 1

barça femení x teen!reader, alexia putellas x teen!reader

in which you finally let someone in, and Alexia accepts that she’ll be having a bigger role in your life than she first expected

Ale had driven you to the grounds this morning, as she tends to do now if she has a free day when you have a game. You were so excited for this game. Your grandpa had recuperated well from his surgery, even if he now needed some extra care, and Ale’s presence in your life had become a constant. You couldn’t believe this was your life now.

You went into the game eager to win, to score, to lead. By half time, you had scored once and provided an assist. You were on fire, but everything changed when you stepped into the tunnel and Ale was waiting for you, a worried frown in her face.

“Solet, I need you to stay calm while I tell you this, okay?.” She said. “Your neighbor called, they’ve had to take your grandma into the hospital because she fainted. They firmly believe she’s going to be okay. I will drive you to the hospital right now if that’s what you want.” You can’t believe she’s even doubting it. There is no way you’re making it back out into the pitch now.

“Please Ale, let’s go.” You rush to the locker room to get your things and run all the way to Ale’s car, impatient.

“It’s all gonna be okay, I promise.” Ale says as she lays her free hand on your arm, the other on the steering wheel.

You really want to believe her, but you don’t really think she has the ability to fulfill this one. You don’t respond. You just lay your head against the window and let its coldness ground you to reality.

As soon as you get to the waiting room you make a beeline for your grandfather, who sits in a corner. He’s recuperated from his surgery, but he still can’t stand for long periods of time and needs help remembering to take his meds.  You break down as soon as you’re in his arms.

”Oh, mi niña, everything’s gonna be okay. She was awake when they got her into the ambulance. It was just a big scare, but she’s going to be okay.”

You nod against his chest but don’t detach from his hold. You won’t believe it until you see her with your own eyes and doctors confirm it, but you appreciate the comfort of his words. You turn a bit to look to your left. Ale is talking with your neighbor. She has her capitana face on. That relaxes you further.

You hate how unhelpful you’re being. You should be more composed, asking questions, making sure your grandpa is also okay, planning for any contingencies that might come from this incident. But you can only cling, and cry, like a child. So you’re happy to see that Ale has taken control of the situation, because at least somebody has. You’ve been trusting her with more of yourself and your life over the past months, and you’re so, so glad about it now. She looks over at you, and you know she understands what it means to you. The guilt of your impotence stays, but the pressure eases and you let yourself just fall.

Alexia is looking at you and seeing a kid. A strong, resilient kid. But a kid. So she takes charge, and she accepts that caring for you is coming more naturally to her every day. And as she waits with you for news about your grandma, she gradually also accepts the role she wants to play in your life. More than she’d let herself in the past, more than she’s ever said out loud.

“So… Why are the kids talking about you adopting another kid?” Marta approached Alexia with a massive smirk at the end of training.

“Yeah Ale, I thought you’d at least talk to me before you got a kid outside of this team.” Oh, Irene was having too much fun with this conversation.

“First of all, there is no another, I don’t have any kids, period.” A chorus of ‘hey’ and ‘rude’ was heard from the other side of the room, most notably (and loudest) by Vicky and Jana. Alexia just rolled her eyes. Apparently, the whole team was a part of the conversation now. “And secondly, I have not adopted a kid. I’m just… mentoring.”

“Mentoring? Is that what they call it now? Mentoring is driving a kid to and from practice?” Jana continued teasing her.

Alexia had gotten into the habit of driving you when she could especially to and from late night practices, thinking that it was much too late for you to be out taking public transportation.

“Or staying to watch those practices?” followed Sydney, who’s joking character was coming more and more out as she became more comfortable with the first team.

Now, Alexia knew how to perfectly justify this one.

“I am captain of this team, I have a duty to check in with the B team and source for talent.” she answered, feeling smug.

“Oh, and is having Sunday lunch with her and her family a form of recruitment?” added Vicky, who had become closer with the teen and had taken to chatting with her on occasion.

Alexia actually didn’t know how to respond to this one. She had taken your grandmother’s invitation a couple of time when you had Sunday morning games and she had a free weekend. She loved getting to know you more by spending time with you and your grandparents. And although she thought you pressured yourself too much, she saw herself reflected in your protectiveness, diligence and sense of responsibility toward your family and team.

“Better yet. Why did your girlfriend text me asking if I could give her more information about the kid because she wants to make a good impression when you bring her over for Sunday dinner at your mom’s this weekend?” added Ingrid.

Alexia muttered “traitor” as the locking room erupted in chaos. Everyone knows how much it means for their protective and family-oriented captain to introduce people to her family.

“Okay, enough. I care about her, yes. And she doesn’t have too many people on her corner, so I decided to become one.”

Everyone softened at that, understanding the importance and vulnerability of the statement.

“Now, no more social chit-chat about my life or you’re all running three times as much before practice.”

The soft expressions were replaced with groans, complaints and the occasional soft object thrown at her. Oh how she loves her fútbol family.

Your neighbor has had to leave; she has her own family to care for. So it’s just you, your grandpa, and Ale. Each sitting on a seat to your side. The doctor comes out after a half hour of waiting. The good news is that she’s okay, she’s awake, and there is nothing life-threatening. It feels like a toll has been lifted off your shoulders. But then he continues: it was a big fall, a symptom of an underlying heart condition. It means more medication and the possibility for this to happen again or other bad things. You feel dizzy again. You only hear bits and pieces of the rest: needs more monitorization, will need more constant care for a couple of weeks, she’s gonna stay overnight, you’ll be able to see her soon. You cling to the last part to stay in touch with reality.

Ale sees you drowning, so she asks, “Do you trust me to help, to take over now and help you through this? Let me do this for you?”

You nod. You need her to. You don’t even have any space in your worrying to overthink what this means or why she’s willing to do all this for you. You need her now, and the rest will come when everything’s more calm.

“I’m gonna make a few calls, okay? Can I tell a couple of people what is going on? The girls, mami and Olga are all worried. I won’t say much, just a quick update, okay?”

You nod again. You haven’t uttered a word since you got into Ale’s car. You can’t. So when she nods back, you hide your face in your grandpa’s chest again. You try to distract yourself with happier memories until you can see your grandma again. Thinking of her still hurts, so you focus on your team, your friends, and the people in Ale’s life you’ve met in the past weeks.

You felt dizzy from anticipation. You kept bouncing your leg in the passenger seat, and checking your outfit on the rear-view mirror. Ale noticed your fidgeting and laid her free hand on your shoulder.

“Are you nervous?” her eyes didn’t stray from the road but you noticed her half-grimace. Ale is not the best at not asking obvious questions, but you know it’s because she doesn’t know how to start the conversation otherwise.

“Yeah, I just…” you also grimaced, feeling like a little kid. “I want them to like me.” you mumbled, embarrassed.

“Oh, solet. They will. Mami is a natural caretaker, she’ll take you under her wing immediately. And Alba and Olga will just love having one more person to team up with against me.” Ale rolled her eyes, fondly.

She exudes a different type of softness when she talks about the women in her life, even when she fakes being annoyed at their antics. Her response calmed you, though.

Ale was absolutely right, of course.

As soon as you entered Ale’s home, her mom was giving you a massive hug and when she pulled away, she told you how beautiful you are and that she was really excited to meet you. You were blushing again. She hugged her daughter next, and then motioned for you both to go to the living room while she finished cooking. You offered to help, and you were rewarded with a wide smile and a pinch to your cheek. Ale got a quip that “she ought to keep her instead of her daughters if she keeps this helpfulness up”.

You’re still flushed when you reached the living room with Ale to find her sister and girlfriend sitting at the table in conversation. They stood up when you entered the room. Her sister moved to you, hugged you and introduced herself. You opened your mouth to do the same but she interrupted before you could utter a word.

“Oh, I know who you are. Ale won’t shut up about you.” You both turned to her, but she was too busy kissing her girlfriend to notice. Alba covered your eyes and shouted. “Women, not in front of the kid!”

You smiled as Alba moved away her hand and smiled back at you, all nerves forgotten by now, replaced by warmth. Ale and Olga were walking towards you both now, Ale’s hand on the small of her back. Olga hugged you, and her smile was just as warm and soft as Ale’s. 

“Yeah, Ale hasn’t shut up about you. We’re all really excited to meet her mini-me.” And there you were, blushing again. Had Ale really referred to you like that? Before you could ask, Ale’s mom called the four of you to finishing setting up as dinner was ready.

Conversation during dinner flowed. Ale was right, you had nothing to worry about and the night went perfectly. They all asked about you, eager to get to know you better. Alba and Olga did use your presence to rile Ale up. They shared embarrassing stories as she blushed and covered her face.

“I’ll lose my tough captain facade, stop.”

“You never had one to begin with, Ale”

By the time dinner ends, you couldn’t even believe you had been so nervous to meet them. Ale and Olga offered to drive you home. As you and Olga waited for Ale to finalize some arrangement with her mom, she put her arm around you, as the night had unexpectedly cooled and neither of you had come dressed for it. You basked in the comfort of her warmth and touch.

“I’m so glad Ale brough you over.” You looked up to the older woman, her smile exactly like Ale’s. “She is right, you know? You’re such a solet. I’m so glad you have each other.” Before you could respond, Ale was ushering you both inside the car and the motion of the road and the fullness from dinner lulled you to sleep. You miss their smile at your sleeping form, and their unspoken understanding of their care for you.

By the time Alexia finishes texting and calling, she has a plan. Alexia does well with plans, likes to prepare for things. But she has to talk to your grandparents first, and she doesn’t know how that conversation is going to go. Alexia is also quick on her feet, though, and works with what’s given. Knows how to fight for what she thinks is right.

It doesn't take long for a nurse to come by and lead the three of you to your grandma’s room. You cry again when you see she’s okay. You can’t cling to her like you did with your grandpa, so you’re content to sit by her side and hold her hand while she asks questions about the game, and you do your best to respond to her. Your words are stilted, but Ale and your grandpa smile because it’s the most you’ve spoken in hours.

After some more assurances, your grandma convinces you to go down to the cafeteria with your grandpa to have dinner. You’re hesitant to comply, but both her and Ale reassure you and don’t accept no for an answer. You give them one last glance to reassure yourself everything is okay befor eyou leave the room.

Alexia is nervous to be left alone with your grandma. She needs to start the conversation she knows is coming and despite the encouragement from her family, she isn’t sure to be ready for it. She doesn’t have to be, though, because your grandma beats her to it.

“She needs you.” There’s a heavy silence that follows; Alexia doesn’t know how to respond.

“She needs you because she’s a kid but doesn’t accept it. We both know that this incident means that both I and my husband need more help than she should be burdened by. She’s stretched thin enough, she already does too much. We want her to have fun, be a kid, a student, a footballer. Not a nurse, or a caretaker. She can’t do that if she’s constantly worried about us. And I know you know all this.”

Alexia stands seriously and silently and measures her words before speaking. She knows what’s next, but this is not her family, she doesn’t want to overstep. But if directly asked for her input, she’ll do it. She’ll take care of everything. For you. 

“I do, yeah.”

“We need that kind of help but it can’t come from her. So will you help? I’ve seen you grow closer to her, she admires you so much, relishes your attention and care. If we ask you for it, if she agrees, are you ready for this?”

Alexia doesn’t hesitate.

“Yes.”

She can see the tension leave your grandma.

“Good. Now we can talk specifics. What’s your plan? Tell me and then we can tell her together.”

In the morning after you, Ale and your grandpa went home to sleep –Ale taking the couch even if you insisted on her taking the bed–, it’s Ale also who drives back to the hospital and brings your grandma home when she’s released. All four of you sit in the living room and when you try to fuss over your grandma, all three of them reassure you she’s okay.

“Mi vida, we have something to discuss.” Your grandma starts, and you squirm, uncomfortable at being out of loop.

“Alexia and us have a proposal for you, mi niña. We’ll do only what you want us to, but we think this is the best for all of us, and especially you.” You don’t respond to your grandpa, just nod, the anticipation driving you crazy. Your grandma takes over the conversation again.

“We love you so much, mi vida. We love how kind you are, how responsible, and how much you care for us. But your grandpa and I need more help, and we want you to not be burdened by it.” You’re about to protest –they’re not a burden, would never be, you love them and you’ll always care for them–but Ale stops you.

“Ssh, solet, listen to what we have to say first, okay?” You nod again instead of responding.

“So remember when I made a few calls yesterday at the hospital? I set up a couple of things. First, there is a home-care medical team that will be taking care of your grandparents from now on. They’re the best, but we still get to pick who’s going to be coming to stay with them for continued care. You’ll be part of that decision too.”

You exhale, thankful that Ale took over arranging this service. Deep down, you know that even if you would have tried your hardest, your grandparents need specialized care you wouldn’t be able to provide.

“And we also thought something else, but we’ll only do this if you want to and completely at your pace.” You become uneasy again at their own nervous expressions.

“Mi vida, we’ve thought that you spend so much time moving from here to the city, and it’s not benefitting you in your studies, or your football career, so Alexia kindly offered an arrangement that we think will work for all of us.”

“Solet, I’d like it if you moved in with me.” There is nothing but shock in your expression now. You have no idea how to respond, this being the last thing you expected from this conversation.

“We were thinking you could stay with me over the week, so you can go to a school that is more understanding of your football career, like many of your teammates, and be closer to the training grounds. You’ll come back to stay over weekends with your grandparents, so you’ll still see them a lot. And you can obvious tell me anytime you wanna be with them, and we’ll make it work so you never feel detached.”

You stop her nervous rambling with an obvious question, still in shock.

“You really want me to move in with you? Are you sure?”

Her smile is so, so soft again. Her eyes so kind, but also somewhat exasperated, she can’t believe you don’t understand how much she cares for you yet.

“Yes, solet. And before you ask. Yes, I’ve talked to Olga, she also thinks this is good. She’s in and out of the house these days because of work in Madrid so she thinks this is actually good for us both, apparently I don’t struck her as someone who lives well alone.” She rolls her eyes when she shares that part, but she’s still smiling.

“And, avis, you think this is best for all of us? Because I’ll still miss you a lot, but you’re right that I’ve been struggling these days.”–you finally admit–“And I guess if there’s a professional caring for you here and I can call you anytime and come often, then, I guess, it seems like a good solution to me too.”

All three of them smile widely at you, glad that you see the same things they do.

“Yes, mi niña, we do. And this is always your home, you can be here as much as you want to.”

“Okay” You say, and it feels definitive, the start of something.

—

an:

so here’s the second part of solet! it took me a bit longer than expected but I wanted to do a good job at setting everything up and it made it longer than i initially expected.

this is the end of setting up the arc, and stories from now on will be just instances of solet’s life :)

I already have some ideas drafted, but I’m super eager to get requests and asks about this world of what kind of things you’d like to see from solet’s life.

thank you for reading!

xoxo, a.c.

[reysdriver]

Hello! I was wondering if it would be possible to write about Eddie coming over and you have cooked a big meal for the two of you and Eddie has never seen this much food. Used to a frozen meal or Mac and cheese, he is kind of scared to overindulge even though the food is mouth watering. Reader just wants to take care of him.

Eddie's stunned when you make dinner for him, and even moreso when it's the best thing he's ever tasted — eddie x reader fluff

warnings: ig just food and talks of Eddie's social status/living situation

words: 1.2k

Your multitasking skills were finally coming in handy for something important tonight. 

Tonight’s menu consisted of a main dish, sides, and dessert that you were making completely from scratch. And on top of all that cooking, you kept looking at the clock every two minutes to make sure you’re on track for when Eddie said he was coming over. 

Eddie Munson had never been a punctual person. He shows up late to class every day—which is part of the reason why he’s in his third senior year of high school—and all of his friends know to tell him to come at least a half hour earlier than everyone else because that’s the only way they can guarantee he’ll be there when they want. 

But he’s always on time for you. Whenever you have a date, he shows up exactly when he says he will. And when he’s even a few minutes late, he apologizes profusely until you promise that you’re not upset with him. 

You know he’ll be here at exactly seven o’clock, and it was almost time. 

Each tick of the clock reminding you that your boyfriend was on his way and you weren’t going to have dinner ready on time. 

You tried your best to rush the process, but the knock at the door caught you by surprise before you could fully finish cooking. 

You jogged over to the front door to let Eddie inside—even though you’ve told him before that he could let himself in—and you were met with his smiling face. 

He immediately snaked his arms around your figure and pulled you in for a kiss like he was a sailor coming back from a long voyage at sea. 

As much as you loved when he kissed you like this—and he did it quite a bit—you had to break apart because you had pasta on the stove that you were absolutely not going to let burn. 

“I’m almost done cooking dinner.” You told him as you jogged back to the kitchen.

“I thought you liked me.” Eddie says dramatically, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it aside. “Such a shame. I guess I’ll just go home.”

“This food took so much work. If you leave before trying it, I think I’ll cry.” 

“Well we can’t have that, now can we?”

Eddie waltzed over to where you were standing in the kitchen and leaned against your fridge, eyeing up both you and the food you were preparing. 

“What did you make?”

“Eddie, do you have any patience at all?” 

Your boyfriend shook his head, barely taking any time to think of his answer. “Little to none.”

Right after saying that, he started reaching for the covered desserts that you had placed beside the stove. 

“Yeah, I can see that.” You said while swatting his hand away and shooting him a joking glare. “Go sit at the table and wait until I’m done cooking.”

He sent you a flirty smirk before obeying what you asked of him.

“Yes ma’am.” 

As you plated up dinner, you and Eddie exchanged a bit of small talk since the both of you were trying to focus. You on dinner, and Eddie on how good you looked wearing that floral apron that was hanging from your waist. 

When you loaded plates and bowls onto the table, Eddie’s jaw nearly dropped to the floor. He couldn’t believe how much food you had prepared. It looked so colourful and smelled so damn good too. 

You hung your apron on the handle of the oven door and sat down across from Eddie. Noticing that he looked somewhat stunned and hadn’t yet taken a bite, you explained the dish like the chefs you had seen on TV. 

“It’s a creamy tuscan chicken. I found the recipe in a magazine.” You then pointed at the side dishes you made to go with it. “And then I made some rice pilaf and roasted vegetables to go with it. I know you don’t love vegetables but I added a balsamic glaze so it’s not so plain.”

He wanted to speak up. He wanted to thank you and tell you how excited he was to dig in. But he was still just so shocked.

Eddie had never seen this much food at once in his life. Especially not home-cooked food, and especially not on just a normal night. Neither Eddie nor his uncle Wayne had ever been good at cooking, and even if they were, their small trailer didn’t allow much room for food preparation. 

He was just stunned. No other word for it. Eddie saw all this food in front of him, but still couldn’t believe it was real. Or that his girlfriend made it for him for date night. He had to be dreaming, he was sure of it.

“Is everything alright?” You asked him, suddenly insecure about your work. 

“No! Wait, no, I mean ‘yeah’!” Eddie stumbled over his words, only now processing that you were across the table and waiting for him to say something. “It looks good, really good. Amazing actually.”

“It’s not too much? Or something you don’t like?” You asked, still unsure. “Because I could just pack it up for meals throughout the week and we could order a pizza or something?”

“No, it’s not that!” Eddie picked up his fork and eagerly scooped up some rice to prove he wanted the food. “There’s just so much, I wasn’t expecting all of this.”

“I made dessert too, brownies and chocolate chip cookies.” You said, pointing to the dish your boyfriend tried grabbing earlier. 

Eddie’s eyes widened, realizing that there was even more than what he was seeing. He didn’t believe you when you said you spent the whole day cooking—why would he? If a delicious pizza could be at his door in 30 minutes or less, how could anything good take longer than that?—but now he knew you were telling the truth. 

And now his mind was going a mile a minute trying to process everything. 

“Well now I feel like shit.” He said jokingly. 

“Why?”

“Look at this whole thing. Jesus, last week when I cooked for you, I made a can of Spaghettios!” 

“Well I liked that!” You told him, trying to clear his guilt. “I just wanted to do something special tonight and use what I know. I’m sorry it made you feel bad.”

“No, no, I was kidding about that, baby. It’s great, don’t worry.”

You smiled at him, happy that he was excited about the dinner.

“Okay.” You nodded. “Are you gonna try it, then?”

Without another word, he took a piece of the chicken and brought it to his lips. The second it touched his tongue, he felt like he had just eaten something made by Julia Child herself—and Eddie noted to himself that he should pull out that impression later.

It was easy to tell the emotions on Eddie’s face as he took that bite. So, satisfied with his reaction and proud of yourself, you started to eat too. 

With every bite Eddie took, he thought about marrying you just so he could eat like this more often.

[pinkisacreativecolour]

BSD MANGA SPOLIERS CHAPTER 114 LEAKS

What the fuck do you mean we got that heat wrenching shit with Nikolai and his visceral fucking grief and confusion with Fyodor and his death and his feeling and that entire scene with the whole ‘god has forsaken me’ shit for FYODOR TO BE FUCKING. I DONT EVEN KNOW. HOW THE SHIT IS THAT NOT FYODOR’S CORPSE IN THAT HELICOPTER. Asagiri you better give us a proper explanation and then actually kill someone you better fucking do it. Also tell us what the FUCK. Higuchi’s ability is. And where literally everyone is. It’s been actual years since we’ve seen major characters what the fuck