#i feel fucking awful and disgusting for anyone ever having to put up with me. including myself and here i am feeling sorry for myself again

[uzicel]

[lovieku]

HANDS ON ME ⋆ 정국

𐙚 if you like what you see, baby put your hands on me.

it’s about to look like jeongguk’s birthday everyday with you.

based on this ask

from the grande series ୨ৎ

pairing: nerd!jk x popular!fem reader

genre: smut

ratings: 18+ / mdni

warnings: lower case intended, jk is inexperienced and sooo whipped, it’s his birthday!!! and he’s getting it hhhh, lowk dom!oc x sub!jk, size kink, tit play, dry humping, brief coochie play, cum eating omfg, blow job, cutest babies ever

word count: 3.9k

a/n: first thing i saw this morning was that ask, so of course i had to write this. like THANK U ANON that was such a good idea yes yes yes. hope u enjoy 🩷🩷

🏷️ perm taglist: @ceellliiinee @jaytheatiny @dolligguk @luvismenu @theyloveyams @stillwjk-channie-lixie @bookstoread199 @girlygguk @vieviela @myngiii @angelxkoo @nnybtitts08 @mpbrinkss @https-mei @lyywst @mhdelu @apobangpogirlyyy @khadeeeeej @awrkive @nooooooooonnneeeeeee @vantelover1306

────୨ৎ────

jeongguk didn’t wish for his birthday party to look like this.

the second he casually mentioned that his parents would be out of town on the very same day he would turn 21, his small friend group (consisting of the two nerdiest guys in college, probably even battling him for the top spot) took it on them to turn what he imagined would be a calm, quiet night spent with the comfort of jimin and taehyung in front of video games into a contending rival of a literal frat party. in his own house. when he never approved of it, nor asked for it.

there’s an inestimable amount of faces he has never seen before this moment, but they all seem to know him, congratulating him every time he comes in their vision. then, they go back to drinking, kissing, soft-fucking on his couch, and seemingly pumping up the volume of the music more and more with each blasting and ungraceful song.

that is probably why he’s struggling a bit more than he usually does with breathing. he’s a huge germaphobe, and having all these strangers barge into his space and lean on every possible surface with their greasy, alcohol stained hands has him close to hyperventilating.

he still hasn’t figured out how his two friends did it, but they managed to involve what looked like the whole uni into coming at jeongguk’s 21st birthday party like it was an unmissable event. it truly did seem like one, though, the birthday boy looking around in a confused awe and realizing this is all he’s ever missed from his teenage years. meh. not all that.

what really got him struggling to breathe is you. you, the most popular girl in college, talks about you on the mouths of all guys and girls in the hallways, loved yet envied by every single one of them, are here. and when you greeted him, you did so with a kiss for each of his cheeks. he stood there like he truly was going to let his lungs stop working, and you just smiled up at him through your long lashes and big eyes.

you’re not popular for the cliché reasons a girl in college might be. you’re not mean, you don’t square uncool people from head to toe with a judging look, you’re not known to be scary and unapproachable. the reason why you’re surrounded by a devoted swarm of bees is because you’re the literal definition of an angel.

an angel always ready to help anyone who seems like struggling, flash them with pearly whites, and be impossible to resist with bug, wide eyes conveying all your most honest emotions.

you’re known for genuine reasons. he’s never even heard many rumors about you, and if he did he assumed it was coming from way too envious people. the only thing he allowed himself to believe about your privacy, is that you’re very caring in bed.

he won’t admit it, feels disgusting for it, but he’s touched himself to that thought a couple of times. maybe more.

it doesn’t matter now, because you’re closer to him than you’ve ever been, and you sit in the overwhelming circle that has formed on the floor of his living room, people he has never even talked to proposing games and pushing drinks into his hand since he’s now 21.

unlike most people, that number doesn’t mean a lot to him. he’s not that thrilled about the knowledge that he can now get his hands on anything that was previously denied to him, alcohol and substances of those sorts. he never liked them, and he doesn’t think he will just because of this newfound freedom.

he’s now getting the full experience when someone, sharp-eyed and drunk on audacity, spots the wooden door to his dad’s wine cellar left slightly ajar and suggests seven minutes in heaven with the kind of enthusiasm jeongguk imagines newton felt when that apple hit his head.

on his right, jimin panics for jeongguk, “you’re not going to fuck in mr. jeon’s wine cellar.”

“who said anything about fucking?” dahye, a friend of yours, the complete opposite of you with a mean aura and sliced eyes, intervenes and has everyone laughing.

jimin rolls his eyes and plops down from where he straightened up on his knees, and jeongguk stays silent. he gave up fighting long ago, when the first drink spilled on his carpet.

he just gives a tight-lipped smile when his blonde friend tries an apologetic look, shaking his head and studying the room. jeongguk gulps when his eyes inevitably fall on yours, and he finds you already staring, an intensity he hasn’t seen often. when he’s sure he’s perfectly resembling a deer caught in headlights, you tilt your head amusedly, and he hastily focuses back down on his lap.

“well, since jimin is so afraid we’re gonna break his boyfriend’s stuff,” dahye continues, feeding off the childish chuckles coming from around her, and maybe also off jimin’s annoyed glare, “why don’t we let the birthday boy go first?”

at that, jeongguk’s head snaps up, his fluffy hair bouncing with the sudden movement, and he looks around wide eyed. he’s not sure what the game entails, he just knows something is supposed to happen, but he’s not sure exactly what the people hungrily gawking at him are expecting.

taehyung is about to add something when dahye interrupts once again, resting her hand on your lap beside her, “he can go with ___. i know that would make his day.”

sitting at her left, you’re the only one who doesn’t laugh at the sneaky implication; instead, you glare at your friend, who shrugs in response.

both jimin and taehyung fall in total silence, their eyes alarmingly looking at their friend in the middle. jeongguk seems a hundred times more panicked, but not because of the same reasons.

while his two best friends are simply excited at the prospect of jeongguk’s every dream coming true, eagerly expecting a positive answer from his mouth, jeongguk’s whole focus is on you, and your seemingly impassive face. his mind spins with haunting worries, giving at least twenty different interpretations to the way you’re looking at him, brows subtly twitching up.

he clumsily parts his lips to say something, but with absolutely no senseful thought swarming his brain, nothing comes out.

a beat of anticipated silence goes by before you gracefully stand up, all eyes following you, and even if quiet, your voice goes through the music, “let’s go, gguk.”

jeongguk loudly gulps, and he hopes the sound isn’t heard, but he doubts it since he’s receiving a scary amount of attention that goes over what he’s received his whole life.

if it wasn’t for the two guys at his sides pushing him to stand up, he would have stayed with his ass perched to the floor. instead, he stumbles and almost trips, meeting your eyes with awkward shame as you just softly smile at his gawkiness.

you don’t wait for him, daintily walking to the room victim of the game, pushing the door open and curiously peeking inside. jeongguk hastily jumps over the people sitting on the ground, still quietly observing the scene, and he’s at your side way faster than the time it took for him to even realize what was about to happen.

he exhales loudly at the proximity, standing behind you and basking in the height difference, your head barely reaching his chest, and he thinks he truly sees heaven when you turn around to look up at him, grinning delicately as you tilt your head back, “wanna go in?”

jeongguk is sure he has lost the capability to speak. no matter the sounds he tries to force up his throat, they’re not strong enough to fight their way out. he simply closes the door behind the two of you, and he’s glad when it significantly helps drown out the loud music and drunkish chatter.

he’s less glad for it when it means he’s officially left alone with you in a relatively cramped space, the silence almost more suffocating than the room and its strong smell. but he’s convinced you must be an angel when you don’t complain, not even slightly, your face the expression of composure.

he stands in the middle of the cellar while you explore it in a circle, letting your heels click on the parquet floor and your fingers carefully brush the wine bottles.

the simple action makes him feel hot, naughty mind conjuring up images of you tracing his skin with such care, and he releases a shaky breath before you can stop him, blurting his messy thoughts out, “we— we don’t have— have to do anyt—”

“sit on that stool, gguk.”

the command is anything but harsh, your voice a soft melody of calmness, but it still startles him. no, it shakes something in his chest, traveling all the way down to where he’s starting to feel a strong urge.

you point to a wooden stool in the corner of the room, which doesn’t look too high, but when he obediently goes to sit on it with his knees wobbling, you promptly place yourself in front of him and grin at the way he’s still almost at face level with you, his forehead reaching only a little under your chin.

his huge proportions compared to yours have always managed to make your head spin and thighs squeeze together whenever you managed to sit next to him in the few lectures you shared, lashes fluttering seductively to have him fix nonexistent bugs on your computer just to see his wide hand close to yours on the keyboard.

now, with his puppy eyes staring up at you expectantly, his drawn up brows only emphasizing his yearning, you need to steady yourself with hands on his shoulder to hold back from quite literally grinding on him. you whisper, “good.”

his orbs shake impossibly more, and from the corner of your eye you see his fingers fidgeting in his lap, fighting a delirious need. his legs are spread just enough for you to be standing right in the middle of them, but you push yourself further into him, his chin lifting up even higher to never be forced to look away from your firm gaze, hanging from your lips when you voice an apology, “i didn’t bring a gift, ggukkie.”

jeongguk is almost panting, the endearing nicknames only adding to the warmth of your sweet body, your vanilla scent clouding his senses and gouging the truth out of him, “th—that’s okay, ___. i—i’m very happy you’re here.”

you smile, but it’s one he’s never seen on you. it’s not one of those you flash when you’re grateful, understanding, or even amused. it’s mischievous, almost belittling. “are you saying i’m your gift?”

his eyes widen, and he’s ashamed of the way your accusative tone causes him to throb in his jeans, and in his speech too, “huh— oh my god. i’m so sorry. that must sound so—”

you chuckle, stroking his broad back with your hands sliding across his width, “hey, slow down. it sounds so very cute coming from your lips.”

jeongguk appreciates your efforts at trying to put him at ease, truly. but your soothing touch and words only have him in a state of alert, even more when your fingers travel up his nape and find home in his locks. you’re impossibly close now, and he feels your voice resounding within him, “but i’m still not satisfied. i wanna give you more, make you forgive me.”

your whisper fans over his lips, and he unconsciously parts them for you, his eyes hooded by the second and glassed over with desperate want. you smirk.

stepping back enough for his neck to rest at a comfortable angle, he whimpers deliciously at the loss of your touch, but you shut him up just as quickly when your dress is off you and on the wooden floor in a swift motion.

jeongguk is definitely panting now, breathing manually and focusing too much on having his heart pump oxygen for him rather than the view of your exposed body in front of him.

he gradually realizes he could care less about dying right now if it means the last thing he’s going to be faced with is your nipples hardening with the cool, and hopefully something else, and your lacy white panties barely covering your core.

jeongguk stares like a starved man being met with his first meal after weeks of seeking, his hands trembling on his thighs and squeezing into suppressing fists.

his gasp turns into an awfully high-pitched moan when you hook a finger under the hem of your lingerie, sliding it daintily down your legs and walking out of it, never breaking eye contact with him. only thing you’re left with are your high heeled boots.

the next thing you do has the organs that keep all his vital functions going completely stop working, his heart missing more than ten beats and catching up with an alarmingly fast speed, causing his voice to shake, “___, wh—what are you—”

swinging one of your legs, you sit on him with your ingloriously stained panties pressing right on his crotch, hands placed back on the base of his neck, basking in the way you can feel his rapid beating under your fingers.

you lean into his ear, “if you like what you see, you can put your hands on me, baby.”

jeongguk throws his head back for air, his chest heaving with trembling exhales before he finds your eyes again, and in the fraction of second he needed to look elsewhere if he didn’t want to bust in his tight pants already, you’re a whole different person.

your eyes are sliced, pupils blown and hooded, and your parted lips stretch just enough to paint a wicked smirk over your face, its effects flooding right down his stomach and making you feel his hardness through the material.

his hands dance a panicked rhythm hovering over your sides, not sure what to do, not deeming himself deserving of feeling your skin under his touch. but you take it upon yourself to guide them, pressing his palms against your hips and letting them ride up your exposed breasts.

he whimpers, fingertips unconsciously testing the sense of the soft curve of your boobs with a subtle press, but it’s not enough. you can’t feel him.

with your hands still on his, you arch yourself further into his touch and have his thumbs slice over your sensitive nubs, letting out a moan of your own that goes over his low groan. you lick your lips and struggle to find your breath and words too, but you whisper them through an already too fucked out smile, “see? you can touch me, just like that.”

the go-ahead is all he needs for him to dive his head right into your chest, his tongue catching your nipple in an unpracticed hunger, messily sucking on it and quickly leaving your skin soaked with spit. he works clumsily with his hand on your other tit, movements uncoordinated and unsure.

but the fact that he seems to not care about his inexperience, willing to learn right at this moment all it takes for you to keep whimpering and trembling when he touches, has your usually composed senses lost in a haze of desire, the need to give your all to the nerdy boy that is finally being properly touched just as he turns 21 clouding your senses and pushing you to unconsciously buck your hips against his.

he moans with his mouth full of you, his free hand gripping your thigh, and he tries to stop it but he can’t help the way he meets your grinding, snapping up as if he lost all sort of control over his body. he quite literally wails in desperation, “fuck— don’t— don’t do that. i’m gonna— oh, god.”

“you’re gonna cum?” you sound just as crazed, hips rutting at a faster speed on him, the slickness smearing all over his jeans and leaving a wet patch right where his dick stays confined.

“no! i— i mean, just give me a second, shit. i swear, i—”

“ggukkie, this is about you. i’ll make you cum, hm? how’s that sound?” the sweet sound of your promise has him seeing stars, eyes squeezing shut as he feels himself getting close to a point he doesn’t think he’s ever reached before.

until he’s back to zero.

you lift your hips off his, helping your weight up by placing your hands on his broad shoulders, and you sport a devilish smile when he opens his eyes again, protest ready on his tongue. his brows are furrowed and there’s tears ready to spill out from his eyelids, but you don’t let them.

the huge palm that was still fondling your breast is now being led by you further down, until it disappears between you. you have him cup your wet core, the intensity of the moment only heightened by your gaze never leaving his, “touch me.”

when panic flashes over his expression once again, you instruct him through it just how you did minutes before, and he quickly gets the hang of it. you always appreciated him being a fast learner, but you couldn’t imagine that it would come handy in a scenario like this one.

you hum when his ring and middle finger trace your slit, only to come up to try and find your clit in a surprisingly good attempt, “good, get all of it. make your hand wet.”

the moment squelching sounds reach your ears, you leave your seat from his lap and stand on your heels again. he whines, unknowingly reaching for you, but you halt his hand and redirect it on the zipper of his jeans. you tilt your chin, “take them off.”

he’s quicker than he was at the beginning of his seven minutes in heaven now, freeing himself from the tight pants, boxers going along with it, and his cock springs free deliciously, standing tall and proud against his tummy.

you groan, almost already falling to your knees like you are planning to do soon. it’s an adjective you don’t think you’ve ever used on any of the guys you’ve been with, but jeongguk’s cock is pretty. its pink tip matches his lips, swollen from the harsh biting, and it doesn’t look rough. it has just the perfect length, girth, and when it twitches under your awe, you see it bend subtly to the right.

you smile, meeting his face again, delirious need written all over it, “stroke your cock with the hand you touched me with,” the second the order is out your lips, he’s already working himself. you can see him trying to go at a merciful speed, his grip loose, and it makes you grin amusedly, “mh, aren’t you so obedient. let me have a taste, gguk.”

you clearly have noticed that he’s not as quick on his feet as he usually is, brain clouded, so you once again take it upon yourself to lead his hand, this time introducing two of his fingers in your warm mouth. you hum loudly around the thick digits, eyes rolling back, and you speak around them, “fuck, you wanna try that?”

you don’t wait for him to reply, knowing it would get him minutes that you sadly don’t have to formulate a senseful answer, and you simply feed him his own fingers, carefully watching the way he lets his cheek hollow around them. you chuckle feverishly, “we taste so good together, don’t we?”

he nods eagerly, eyes glassy with more tears, and you think you can see one drop at the side of his face just as you fall to your knees in front of his seated body, your pretty figure even smaller from his view, and he’s graced with your bug eyes staring up at him through long lashes.

you don’t waste any more time, knowing there’s not much left in the heaven you’ve created for your own, and you wrap your ravenous mouth around him, showing none of the previous mercy in your speed.

he lets his mouth hang open, moans uncontrollably loud, and he needs to grab the sides of his stool to get the illusion of some sort of power still left within him. he closes his eyes in bliss, but quickly snaps them open when he realizes what he’s missing.

you’re bobbing your head up and down his length, and you still manage to maintain that dainty elegance that characterizes you, slim fingers gripping around the base and making up for the spots you can’t reach. he pants on the verge of a heart attack, pitch high as he begs, “fuck. look— look up at me, please.”

you do, aligning yourself better to meet his frenzied state, eyes communicating all the words you can’t say, too engaged in having him unravel all over your lips. he groans at the eye contact, thinking back to all the times he’s seen this exact scene flash behind his closed eyelids, and he’s a fool for even believing his mere imagination could compare.

it will never be enough, never again. not after this. not after knowing what you look like as you devote yourself to him, precise movements getting him closer, the way your tongue flickers out to reach down further and how you let his tip meet the back of your throat finally causing him to snap his hips up involuntarily, and before he can say something to warn you, he’s painting your warm mouth with his cum.

ropes of white, hot liquid spill out from you, but you promptly collect all of it, making sure not a single drop is missed, gulping it down with eager want. you wordlessly smile up at him, infatuated with the way his chest heaves and his lips part, trying to regain some composure.

he thinks he will need hours to fully recover. and he’s not even sure he wants this moment to end, blurting his predominant thought out before he knows it, “i wanna make you feel good, too.”

you chuckle as you get up, quickly soothing your knees before collecting your panties from the ground and walking back inside them, “it’s okay, baby. this was my birthday gift for you, hm? besides, we don’t have much time left before the others come in.”

“but…”

jeongguk helplessly watches as you get dressed, cringing at the stickiness of your wet core but nonetheless slipping your flowy dress back on. he just had the best orgasm of his life from the girl he firmly believes to be the love of his life, and he doesn’t get to give it back. oh, he feels like an absolute asshole.

you seem to read it all simply by scanning his face fondly, words soft, “that doesn’t mean you won’t get to do that, you cute boy. you will, and soon.”

when you’re done fixing the creases over your clothes, you walk to him and help him back in his jeans. tucking his softening length in, you lift up the zip of his pants and you’re glad for the way the patch of your wetness seems to have dried.

standing between his spread legs, you brush a hand through his hair, tenderly watching the way his curls fall and tickle his forehead. you smile and whisper quietly, “i got your number from dahye. i’ll text you, okay?”

he gulps, nodding hastily at your rhetorical question and feeling the blush creep up his neck. god, he must look like a total fool, “o—okay…”

humming lowly, you press your lips to his cheek, then to the tip of his nose, “you’re so pretty, you know that? don’t be sad.” next, your mouth rests on his, molding in a kiss that has his eyes shooting wide, and that ends way before he can even realize what’s happening. you chuckle at his expression, and you can’t resist another peck before promising, “happy birthday, gguk.”

[hugsandharrystyles]

Pathetic

Summary: Harry is pathetic, whipped, and an asshole.

Word Count: 2k+

(SMUT so beware.)

"Just give me one more chance."

"I gave you about twenty chances, Harry," You argue. You both have been broken up for about two months now. Harry has a bad habit of breaking up with you when he feels it gets too serious and then begging his way back into your heart at some lame frat party a few weeks later. You finally became exhausted of the cycle and realized you didn't want to be in a relationship with someone like that. Harry didn't take your final break-up well at all because he finally understood you were done with his antics. He's been in a constant state of panic ever since.

"Please, Y/N. I won't- I won't dick around again. I'm a fucking idiot. Just- baby, please," He's spluttering as he corners you into a wall of his dingy frat house. The music is blaring, and people are dancing everywhere you look.

"Yeah, you've said that every time, and I'm not buying it," you say with a mundane tone. You love Harry more than anything, but you can't give him the satisfaction in knowing that. He practically whines and cages you against the wall, his hands on either side of your head, his face resting against your shoulder. You roll your eyes at his pathetic behavior.

"Please, please, please," He begs, his arms wrapping around your waist tightly. You huff in annoyance.

"I hope you know you're acting pathetic right now," you tell him, and he whimpers in your shoulder, nodding his head against you. "Harry, look at me," you say, and he drags his head up. His eyes are clouded over, and his hands rest on your hips, lips in an eternal pout. "I'm not going to date you again because you're an awful boyfriend." His jaw slightly drops, and you swear you see tears well in his eyes. "But-" you begin, reaching up to caress his cheek and wipe a fallen tear, "I'll let you fuck me one more time since that's all you wanted from me anyway, huh?" You ask condescendingly.

"No- No, Y/N, please. You have to know that's not true-" His spluttering is cut off by your lips on his.

"This isn't going to happen if you keep talking," You whisper against his lips. His mouth slips open, and he dips his tongue into your mouth, massaging his against yours. The make out is sloppy and wet, and by the time you pull away, you're both panting and have red cheeks. You take his hand in yours and pull him to the closest bathroom. You lock the door behind you and pop yourself up on the counter.

"We can't go to my room?" Harry asks in a small voice.

"Fuck no. I don't know who you've had in there since me," you say, your voice heavy with disgust as you pull him between your legs and start kissing at his neck. His hands rest against your thighs, squeezing and pawing at them as he shakes his head.

"I swear there hasn't been anyone since you," He promises and moans when you start sucking at his skin.

"As much as I want to believe that we both know the slut you've been in the past," you say and pat his chest. He glares at you before smashing his lips against yours and yanking down your top, so your breasts spill out. He grips and pinches your tits, making you moan into his mouth. His disconnects his mouth from yours to suck at your nipples. Your hand comes to cradle the back of his head as your other hand rubs at your clit through your underwear.

"Let me," he says and goes to put his hands on your pussy, but you stop him.

"No, you can just fuck me," you say breathlessly. "You don't deserve anything else." He nods his head in pitiful agreement and begins to unzip his jeans and pull himself out of his boxers. Your eyes shine at the big dick you've been missing, and you bite your lip to hold back your smile. You spit into your hand before reaching down to jerk him off a bit. His hips stutter into your hand and his jaw drops as a guttural moan spills out. "Geez, you're sensitive," you laugh.

"Wanna fuck you," He whines and thrusts into your hand.

"Alright, c'mon, big boy," you tell him and part your legs further, scooting farther down the counter, so your pussy is perfectly lined up with his dick. He slides himself over your pussy to get himself wet, his face twisting in pleasure at the subtle contact, and you can't not laugh at his piteous behavior.

As soon as he's about to stick his tip in, you stop him.

"Wait," you say and shove at his hip. He pouts but stills himself. "Get a condom," you tell him, and his jaw drops in betrayal.

"But- we never used a condom- ever!" He complains, his eyebrows sewn together in annoyance.

"Well, we are now. I don't trust where your dick has been," you tell him, and his jaw drops.

"This isn't fair! C'mon, Y/N, I've gone along with your games all night, and baby, please, I love you so much. I haven't been with anyone else. You're the only one for me-"

"Harry, it's a condom or nothing," you command, and he basically whimpers at your unwavering attitude.

"Okay," he agrees meekly and reaches into his pocket to pull out a condom. Your jaw drops, and a laugh falls from your mouth. His eyes question you.

"So, you want me to believe you haven't been with anyone when you had a condom ready in your pocket?" You can't control the laugh that escapes you.

"No! It was Niall, I swear! He- He's been making fun of me because I haven't fucked anyone since you, so right before the party started, he jammed one of these in my pocket, and I forgot to take it out. I swear, Y/N," his eyes are serious, and it does sound like something Niall would do, but the irony is too perfect.

"Yeah, okay, just put it on, Harry," you say with humor lingering in your voice.

"Are you fucking- Here, I'll call Niall right now, and he can tell you," he says and begins to reach for his phone.

"No, Harry, that's so unnecessary!" You laugh and try to grab his phone, but he's already ringing Niall.

"Obviously it's not," he counters, puts the phone on speaker and waits for his friend to pick up.

"Hello?" The familiar Irish accent speaks into the phone.

"Hi, Ni. Have I been with anyone since Y/N?" Harry asks.

"No- what the fuck is going on right now- are you with Y/N?" Niall's confusion is evident through the phone.

"Yeah, hi Niall," you say awkwardly.

"Oh, fucking finally. Y/N, you've got to give my boy Harry another chance. He doesn't stop fucking whining about you, and it's annoying as hell-" Harry hangs up the phone before he could say anything else.

"Well, you see now," Harry says and positions himself at your entrance.

"Just the tip," you tell him, and his brows furrow in confusion.

"Huh?" he asks.

"I don't want you to fuck me all the way," you explain. His jaw ticks, and he slaps his dick against your clit, making you twitch. "Careful," You warn between gritted teeth. He spends some time just rubbing himself in between your pussy lips and catching his head on your tight hole. "C'mon, Harry. I want to get back out to the party."

"You're being so mean," He pouts but pushes his head in, his jaw dropping in pleasure. You push at his hip when his hips thrust a bit farther in.

"You were mean first- fucking remember that," you spit.

"I'm sorry," he whines as he fucks you with the tip of his cock. He reaches down to rub at your clit, and your legs lightly shake at the sensation. Harry knows exactly where every good spot is on your body and where exactly will bring you the most pleasure. "So sorry, baby. I'll be anything for you, I swear," he says all pussy-drunk.

"Too little, t-too late, Harry," you breathe and gasp when he pushes in a bit farther. "Watch it," you warn.

"Please, Y/N," He cries, his hips stalling in an attempt to not cum.

"Oh, you better not be about to fucking cum. We haven't even been going for two minutes, and I didn't even think you'd be able to cum from just the tip," You laugh evilly, and he groans in response.

"Shut up, shut up," he says and presses at your stomach when you try to wiggle on him.

"Fucking loser," You spit and clench down on him.

"You're still letting this loser fuck you, s-so what does that say about you?"

"Shut the fuck up," You moan and shove at his hip, but he barely budges. He fucks his tip in and out of you while lightly slapping your pussy.

"If you want me t-to be a loser, I will, sweetheart. I'll be anything you fucking want. Just- just don't leave me again," He begs and leans down to suck on your tits again. "Mama, please." Harry only uses that nickname for you when he's in a certain headspace, so you understand you need to be softer with him for the time being. He does genuinely seem sorry for his behavior, and he's just so hot he's hard to say no to.

"C'mon, Harry. You can cum," You encourage him, and he shakes his head.

"You- You're gonna leave," He whispers and grasps your hips tightly, stilling the both of you once again. You can't take it this time and instead wrap your legs around his hips and push him into you, so you're pressed tightly together. He practically sobs as he cums, and you fear he's too loud, so you press a hand to his mouth. His arms wrap around your waist to hold you to his body, and you swear his orgasm lasts forever. The sensation brings you close, yourself. Your hand that's not on his mouth comes up to play with his hair.

"Calm down," you say gently into his ear as he breathes heavily. His head sags to your shoulder where he sucks at your neck in a soothing manor. The hand that isn't in his hair now rubs at his back. He tries his best to keep his hips still, but they animalistically shove himself as far in as he can possibly go to lock your bodies together.

"I love you- love your soul and your body and everything about you," he breathes and kisses your cheek, letting his forehead rest against your temple. "I love you- I'm so sorry, my love." You can't help the tears that fall at his sentiment. He kisses your cheek again and begins to kiss his way down your body, gently removing himself from you in the process, though when he sees your mixed cum start to drip from your pussy, he quickly gets on his knees and starts to lick you clean. "We taste the best when we're together," he moans and shoves his tongue inside you as far as he can.

"Harry!" You squeal and fist a hand into his hair.

"Fuck- moan my name, baby while I eat your sweet cunt," he pants and sucks at your clit with ferocity. His head shakes side-to-side like a feral animal, and your legs begin to shake again. His hands come up to grip your legs and pin them to the side to spread you open for him. "Cum for me, please, baby." His begging sends you over, and you swore you would've slipped off the counter if he hadn't been gripping you tightly. As you begin to come down, two fingers are being shoved into your pussy and practically shaking you up, hitting repeatedly at that sweet spot inside of you, and you begin to spurt everywhere as you squirt, Harry's tongue flicking against your clit the entire time. He removes his fingers once you finish but then again move his head down to your entrance to lap you up. You have to push his head away and quickly close your legs to stop him.

"Give me a break, Harry," you sigh, a laugh breaking through your lips as you see him pout. He rises off the floor and kisses the corner of your mouth as your panting decreases. "Thank you," you breathe.

There's a moment of intensity where your eyes lock, and you swear you completely understand each other.

"Can I kiss you?" Harry asks.

"Please."

-

This turned out sappier than I thought, so sorry if you don't like that... Also, thank you for all the love!

[corruptedcaps]

The Chavs and the Chav-Nots

"Look, Heidi, I know this sounds crazy, but trust me, it's going to work. The plan is solid. I take the Chav juice I invented, and bam I'm a chav for 24 hours. A full day to go undercover as the ultimate chav bitch. I'll be just like them, blending right in with those girls who make our lives hell. I know you're worried, but it's our only shot. We’ll get the dirt we need to stop them.

Here’s the thing, though, once I drink it, I won’t remember being me. I’ll be all in, completely believing I’ve always been a chav. I might not even go by the name of Jess anymore. And that means… I might come after you too. I might bully you just like they do. But you have to remember, it’s not really me.

When the 24 hours are up, I’ll be back to normal, and we’ll have everything we need. It'll be tough, but it’s worth it. We’re so close to turning the tables on them, Heidi. This is our chance. Just hold on for one day, okay? Ok here goes nothing."

"What the hell am I wearing? I must have blacked out from all the partying and stole your loser clothes. Thankfully even in these fucking shit outfit and virgin glasses I’m still a fuckin’ knockout.

I need to get out of here before someone actually sees me with you. Do you know what that would do to my rep? Being seen with someone like you? Ugh, it's disgusting just thinking about it.

Honestly, I don't even know why you even go to school. It's not like anyone actually likes you. You're just this sad, clingy little parasite, always hanging on, hoping someone will notice you. Spoiler alert, they don’t. You're invisible. You’re fuckin’ nothing, not like me.

Ugh I feel like your ugliness will rub off on me if I stick around any longer. I need some new sexier clothes. Out of the way fugly and if I see you again you’ll wish you were never born.”

"Heidi… oh my God, I’m so sorry. I remember everything. All the horrible things I said to you as Jessi… that’s what I… I mean she, calls herself. It’s like I was trapped inside my own head, watching it all happen. I felt every nasty mean thing she did. I didn’t mean any of it, I swear.

Thankfully I got a lot of juicy dirt on those evil bitches but you’re not going to like this…. I need to become Jessi again. They opened up a lot to her but I could tell they were still wary of her. I just need to spend more time with them and do what they do and gain their trust.

Thankfully Jessi bought some new clothes while she was in control. I know they are slutty and revealing but they are they perfect to fit in with them. Jessi is a perfect chav.

Of course it helped that the juice transformed my body too. I didn’t expect the big tits, the fake tan, the blonde ponytail, or the press on nails but it certainly helps sell the look. I even think some of the chavs are jealous of Jessi.

And, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but it was kind of… nice? I mean, not the whole ‘being a complete bitch’ part, but having them be jealous you know? Anyway I better go get changed into my ‘Jessi’ clothes. Sorry in advance.”

“I thought I told you I’d beat the shit out of you if I saw you again loser. What are you even doing at this party, it’s only for hot studs and bad bitches like us, isn’t that right girls?

This is the fuckin’ train wreck I was telling you about girls. Oh you know her? Yeah I guess she is hard to miss, like a wart on a diseased foot. God, just look at her. Honestly, Heidi, you’re a joke. I mean, who even lets you out of the house looking like that? Where’d you get those clothes? A charity shop? They’re so tragic. And that hair… yikes. Ever heard of shampoo?

She’s starting to make me gag girls. Kayla, kick this bitch out will you, I don’t want her putting me off fuckin’ Derek later. So long dork.”

"Heidi, I’m sorry… again. I know I was awful, but you have to understand, I got even more dirt on those girls. We’re so close to taking them down for good!

Did I have sex with Derek? As in Delinquent Derek the hardest guy on the estates? No… I don’t so? I mean it’s all a little blurry, Jessi was drinking a lot. I only have patches of the night but I’m sure she didn’t. He was texting my phone this morning calling me a bad bitch so I’m sure she told him off.

Oh these hoop earrings? Yeah they’re Jessi’s but I find it’s an easier transition to being her if I’m already wearing some of her stuff. Sure her body fits everything so much better but she’s likely to question everything less if she’s ready to go. Plus I kind of like the way the look on me, they’re sort of sexy don’t you think? Do you think should wear more makeup? Then again what would you know? Anyway I better go get ready for Jessi.”

"Aww, look at you, Heidi, crying like a little baby. What, did I hurt your feelings? Pathetic. You should be used to it by now. You’re so weak it makes my stomach turn.

I’ll let you in on little secret though. I know all about Jess, my loser alter ego. The more she’s transformed into me the more of her memories have slipped into my mind. The more control I’ve taken. Her smarts have let me take over the gang. They are all dumb sluts so it was easy to manipulate them into making me their leader.

But it’s a two way street. I’m sure you’ve noticed Jess has become a little bit meaner, a little bit hotter, and a little bit vainer. All thanks to yours truly. Poor little Jess thought she could control me, use me like some tool to get her way. But she didn’t realize how strong I am.

Just a few more times, and Jess won’t exist anymore. She’ll be gone, and it’ll be just me, Jessi. Forever. And you? You’ll be stuck dealing with the real me, the one who doesn’t give a fuck about you or your pathetic tears. I love being an evil chav bitch and soon Jess will too.

But don’t you go getting any ideas about telling her what I’m up to. I’ve got her dosing on juice everyday but she could still reject me and try and go cold turkey if she’s convinced, so this will be our little secret.”

"Heidi, what are you talking about? Jessi’s plan? Jessi doesn’t have a plan, she doesn’t even know about me. You’re just overreacting. I’m in control here, not Jessi. I know what I’m doing.

You’re just jealous because the juice has had some delicious side effects, like making me fuckin’ tasty. I’ve had to wear all the clothes Jessi bought because they’re the only things that now fit me. The fake tan, nails and makeup is just to compliment it all.

Or maybe you’re just jealous because the Chavs have stopped bullying me entirely. In fact they kind of fear me. Maybe that’s what’s really bothering you. You liked it better when I was just plain old Jess, right? Anything to draw attention away from you.

And come on, Jessi taking over? That’s absurd. I know who I am. I’m still me. Kind. Smart. Caring. And sexy as fuck. Maybe I’m just... improving a little, that’s all. What’s wrong with that? You can’t handle the fact that I’m finally stepping out of my shell.

Honestly, Heidi, you’re starting to sound like a paranoid freak. You’re just trying to hold me back because you’re afraid of being left behind. Maybe you’re the one who needs to change, to toughen up a bit. Ever think about that? Anyway I have better places to be now.”

“Well, well, Heidi. Look at you. I didn’t think you had it in you to try and tell Jess about my plan. Gotta say, I’m impressed. Didn’t think you had a backbone. But that’s why I had the girls tie you up and bring you to me.

See, I’m so close to making sure Jess is gone for good, and I can’t let you derail my plans. You’ve always been such a little thorn in my side, but something Jess said to you made me think that maybe I could get your pushiness to work in my favour. Maybe it’s time YOU changed.

Open up, Heidi. You’re about to get a taste of what real power feels like. Just a little modified Chav juice, enough to see things my way. Thanks to Jess’ brilliant mind I’ve adapted it to make you into everything I need you to be. Come on, don’t make this harder than it has to be. It’s time for you to join the winning side.”

"You know I wasn’t sure at first that your idea of you imbedding yourself in with Jessi was such a good idea, especially because she really seemed to hate your guts but these past few days I’ve seen flashes of you and her hanging out and you’re as thick as thieves. You’re very convincing. It helps you’re started dressing like all the other Chavs too. Don’t get me wrong, you look proper fit now babes. I mean… you fit in so well with Jessi and her crew!

Speaking of which I’m so glad you’ve changed your mind about me taking the juice, you get that it’s only going to be a few times more and then it’ll be over. I wasn’t sure you’d see things my way, but now you’re being so supportive, so encouraging. It makes this whole thing feel so much easier.

And I have to admit… I do enjoy being Jessi sometimes. She’s so fuckin’ hawt and nasty. A proper slag. Oh sorry about that, she slips out out from time to time. A lot more recently. It just feels so freeing to not have to worry about anything. She’s a real bitch and gets what she wants. As she should!

Shit I was going to wait a few hours but what harm could it be to take some juice now? Thanks Heidi you’re so supportive. But you know what first? Let’s you and I get dolled up so when Jessi takes over she’s ready to go with her ‘bestie’.”

“Mmmm yesss that did it. I can feel the last of that loser is out of my system. I have to hand it to you babes, this would have taken weeks to do if I didn’t have you by my side. I always knew you had potential, but damn, you’ve become the loyal bitch I needed. Together, we’re going to run the school, no doubt about it.

Funny how Jess tried to go undercover with the chavs and what brought her down was me her better half infiltrating her world with you as my perfect hawt weapon.

And as for me… just look at me. I’m the perfect chav now. In fact I’m the fuckin’ chav Queen! Shedding that weakling Jess was the best thing I could have done. I’m everything she could never be.

But you, you’re my best creation. A slutty bestie who is unwavering loyal and a fuckin’ stunner to boot. Mmmm the trouble we are going to get up to is making me so wet.

After I dosed all the other girls with anti-chav I needed to start building a better gang anyway. They were just posers compared to us. It’s going to be so much fun converting the other nerds into chav babes and bullying our old enemies.

We’re the Chavs now and their just the chav-nots.”

[joequiinn]

PREVIEW | You Can Have My Hate | b.h. x reader

Summary | Unfortunately, you got stuck with Billy fucking Hargrove as your partner for your final assignment in history class. Also unfortunately, Billy discovers you have a killer body underneath all those baggy clothes…

Author's Note | Billy is a disgusting little man and i love him dearly. as the title says, this is a preview of something i've been working on! the fic is already at 6.5k words and still isn't done, so i decided to put out a little snippet to see if there was any interest, so please let me know if you'd like me to finish the fic!

Warnings & Notes | fem reader, curvy + large chest reader, foul and suggestive language, canon typical Billy bullshit, awful behavior from both Billy and reader, minor allusions to sex but nothing happens (yet)

Music Inspo | Closer by Nine Inch Nails

WC | 1.9k

You let me violate you | You let me desecrate youYou let me penetrate you | You let me complicate you

“Damn, little miss straight-laced,” Billy’s hooded eyes slowly crawled down your body, the corner of his mouthing pulled back in a lecherous smirk, “is that what you’ve been hiding under all those baggy clothes?”

God, you hated Billy Hargrove. Absolutely despised him with every fiber of your being. You knew you should’ve begged your history teacher for a different partner, should’ve gotten on your knees and pleaded for literally anyone other than Billy fucking Hargrove to work on this assignment with you. An idiotic football player or a bitchy cheerleader would’ve been better than this. But no, you didn’t beg and you didn’t plead, so now you were stuck, and god if this wasn’t about to be the worst couple weeks of your life.

Ever since Billy showed up in Hawkins at the beginning of last semester, you detested him. Everything about him screamed disrespectful, hateful asshole, and so having two classes with him meant you had witnessed your fair share of this behavior. Why so many girls wanted to fuck him and why so many boys aspired to be him was a mystery to you, because you could see from the start that he was a no good piece of shit.

But, in a way, you were lucky because you were literally a nobody. And nobodies went unnoticed, which meant not having to deal with bullshit from 90% of your peers. Hell, when your history teacher was pairing everyone off and told Billy who his partner would be, his response was an amused “who?” as if he didn’t believe this person - you - even existed. He had gone the entirety of the school year not having a single clue that you existed, and damn you wish it had just gone on a little longer. You literally had one more month left of senior year, one more month until you never even had to think about Hawkins High again, and the last thing you wanted was to spend half of that month in misery while trying to put up with Billy fucking Hargrove.

This assignment shouldn’t have even been worth shit to you, considering that your grade was nearly perfect and it was your last big project before graduation, but that’s where your history teacher hooked all of you - if this assignment wasn’t completed, then you guys wouldn’t be able to receive your diplomas. Or so he said to deter kids like you from flaking on it - you didn’t know if your boring old history teacher had that kind of authority, but you weren’t about to risk finding out.

And for kids like Billy? Kids who didn’t give a shit, who were already struggling to pass? The grade on this assignment was make or break. Not that it affected you any, of course - Billy could fail his senior year for all you cared. But shockingly enough, he was the one to make a point of its importance to you, the one to emphasize that he had to pass this class and graduate. It was curious to you, since you’d never once seen Billy care about school, but perhaps he was also beginning to feel the fire under his ass to leave Hawkins.

So, for the past week now, you’d been meeting with Billy at the school library, trying your best not to rip out your hair while you did the majority of the work. Hell, you could’ve told Billy just to fuck off and let you work on your own - you’d still let him put his name on the assignment and everything. But for whatever reason, you didn’t and so now you were subjecting yourself to tolerating his bullshit.

And that’s what you were doing right now, sitting across from Billy in the library and using every fiber of your being not to lose it on him. He had been particularly difficult from the moment he sat down, his foot bouncing impatiently and his expression condescending each time you tried to talk to him. He was making it very clear that he’d rather be anywhere other than here. The warm temperature of the library combined with your frustration at Billy was causing you to feel a little toasty, so you caved and tugged your large sweater over your head, leaving you in a tight, black tank top that left little to the imagination.

And said tight, black tank top is exactly what Billy was ogling, making you sneer and immediately regret taking off your sweater.

You never liked showing off your body, never liked the attention it drew you. You wouldn’t say you were self-conscious necessarily, you didn’t hate the way you looked in the mirror or anything like that. But you were very aware of how men looked at women’s bodies, and as someone who hated most forms of attention, you weren’t going to have any of that. So you wore baggy jeans and oversized sweaters, hid your frame under clothes that were always a size or so too big. It kept eyes and hands off of you, and you preferred it that way.

But damn it, it was so hot in the library that afternoon and you weren’t thinking clearly. You couldn’t believe your own stupidity - you just had to take off your sweater in front of Billy fucking Hargrove, a boy who only ever saw women as either sex pots or prudes. His lewd gaze was making you feel even more hot under the collar, but shit did you want to put your sweater back on already despite the heat.

“Will you please focus, Hargrove?” You begged in an exacerbated tone, trying to cross your arms over your chest in a way that wasn’t obvious while looking back down to the textbook open in front of you.

“You expect me to focus now, after you whipped those out?” Billy took such obvious joy in knowing that he was making you uncomfortable. He leaned forward on the table, his eyes once again traveling a salacious path down the curves of your body, “It’s Friday night, I got a pair of double D’s sitting across from me, and you’re asking me to focus on a damn essay?”

“Shut up.” You threatened between your teeth, trying not to raise your voice and draw attention. Your eyes were dark with frustration as you stared at Billy, who simply looked back at you like he didn’t give a damn, like he was just waiting for you to cave to him.

And how the hell could he tell you wore a double D?

You sank in your seat a little while attempting to cross your arms even more aggressively in front of your chest, feeling your cheeks growing red. Billy gave you that smooth, lazy grin that you’ve seen him use before, his eyes hooded as he leaned back in his chair. The feeling of his indecent gaze on your body practically made your skin crawl.

“Fine, Hargrove,” You quickly grab up your belongings and shoot to your feet, fumbling with your bag and sweater to make sure they kept your chest covered, “if you wanna be a prick who won’t focus, we’ll do this next week.”

You started to march out of the library, to retreat to safety. You didn’t like the way Billy was looking at you - it was objectifying and disrespectful and vulgar. Billy never once gave a fuck about - or even noticed - you before, but the second you remove a stupid barrier of clothing, suddenly he’s oh so interested. He was such a pig.

But shit, why was it also… kind of hot?

No, it was not hot.

You couldn’t let yourself even entertain that thought because there sure as shit wasn’t anything hot about it. It wasn’t hot that he objectified you, it wasn’t hot that he drank your body in with impropriety, it wasn’t hot that his tongue ran slowly along his lower lip as his eyes met yours with practiced allure.

No, no, no! You could’ve kicked yourself. Nothing about that should’ve been hot, god damn it.

“Oh, come on, killjoy,” Billy grabbed your wrist, spinning you back around to face him, having followed you through the library. His grip was firm as you looked between his face and hand and back again.

The library wasn’t exactly busy on a Friday afternoon, but you looked around to find that the librarian and another student both looked in your direction. It made you even more nervous to know that eyes were on you; what if you got in trouble, what if the librarian reprimands you both for being disruptive? You looked back to Billy, your brows furrowed in annoyance as you whipped your wrist out of his hold with hostility.

“I’m serious, if all you want is to slack off and look at my tits that’s your business.” You immediately clamped your mouth shut, your eyes widening slightly - that is not what you meant to say at all. Oh god, why the fuck did you say that? Shit, you should’ve just told him that you’d regroup next week, that you weren’t going to put up with him. But no, instead you said arguably the stupidest thing you could, and it was clear on Billy’s face that he was relishing in your stupid words, enjoying them even.

He looked back down at your body, luckily hidden behind your bag and sweater, “My business, huh? Sounds to me like permission to stare.”

“No.” You answered firmly; your cheeks and neck felt so fucking warm. You tried to get back on track, tried to shake off the stupid thing you said just a moment ago, “I just want to finish this project. So, go home and jack off to your Playboys all weekend, and then maybe we can actually get some work done next week.”

Despite your jabs, Billy still grinned wickedly, dipping his head a little as he took a step closer, his voice low, “So, that’s what you’re thinking about, huh? Me jacking off? You enjoying that thought?”

Your mouth opened and closed as you tried to find some quick response to that, but you couldn’t think of a damn thing to say. A sound of disbelief left your throat as you gaped with loathing at Billy for a moment. God, you felt like a damn fish trying to breathe out of water. With a glare in your eyes, you clamped your mouth shut, which seemed to be a great amusement to Billy, whose smile widened as a laugh escaped him.

“God, you make it so easy.” He said, shaking his head, “You gotta lighten up, you know?”

You sigh loudly, eyes still staring at him harshly, “Whatever, Hargrove.”

You attempt to walk away once more, but yet again Billy snatches your wrist, “Wait, wait, wait…”

“Stop acting interested in me all of a sudden,” You try to shake your arm out of his hold again, but this time Billy’s grip is tighter, “I’m not in the mood.”

“Look,” his tone was firm as he instructed, “let’s go back over to the table, get some more work done, and I’ll give you a ride home.”

Your eyes narrowed into slits as you studied his face, “I don’t need a ride.”

“You don’t have a car.” He countered immediately.

“I don’t need a ride from you.”

“You don’t, but isn’t it generous that I’m offering?”

“More like devious.”

“I’ll be a total gentleman.”

You laughed right in his face, “You don’t even know the meaning of the word.”

[justastraymoa]

Chapter 17

WC 1701

Masterlist

Short one this time. Sorry. 😞

Nothing within reflects anyone or anything irl. Pics off pinterest.

Warnings ⚠️ swears, abo dynamics, mentions of slave trade, mentions of rape, mentions of abuse, mentions of death, fear, manipulation abandonment.

(*；д；)ノ

I was out of the car before it even came to a full stop, pulling Channie and Lixie behind me, desperate to have all eight of my Omegas again, even if I knew it would only be for a short time.  It was an absolute need.

I leapt into Hyun’s arms as soon as I was close enough, wrapping my legs firmly around his waist and trusting that he would be able to hold my weight.  I took a deep long inhale of his dark colored scent, pleased to still smell a bit on myself on him.

Hyune gripped you tightly back, face pressed tight against your undiluted scent and almost purring in happiness.  “Oh!  We didn’t want to add to your stress by being too freaked out by separating, but it was so hard!  You were gone so freaking long!”  He mumbled against my skin.

I kissed the side of his head, feeling so warm.  They weren’t clingy like I was because they were thinking of how to make it easier on me.  My sweet, sweet, thoughtful Omegas.  “That was very sweet of you to do.  Next time, just do what you need.  Don’t make it harder on yo9urselves to spare me.  We will get through everything together.”

“What is that awful smell?”  Lino asked stopping dead right before hugging me.  The others had gathered and were not so patiently waiting their turn for a hug.

“It’s her, but only surface.  Her scent is still the same.”  Hyun replied, reluctantly letting me go.  Hannie and Binnie leaned in to sniff me, both making identical disgusted faces.  In a different situation I would have laughed.

I smelled myself too.  Was it B.O?  “What the hell?  I don’t smell anything.”  Just my country fresh deodorant.  Which was actually flowers of some kind.  I really want to know who decided that was what the country smelled like.  Have they ever been to the country?  Because any time I went to the country it smelled like hay and cow manure.  Not flowers.

“What the hell did you do, roll around in Omega?”  Sungmin’s whole face was pinched, and he leaned away from me.

“The fuck you mean.  Channie and Lixie have barely touched me!”

“Not them.  A different Omega.  Not one of us.”

“You smell like Tad.  From the hug.”  Channie explained.

“You’re hugging other Omegas?”  Ayen accused looking hurt and pissed.

“It was one Omega.  One!”  I corrected quickly.  But I did feel bad.  I had asked Tad if his Alpha would mind me hugging him, but I hadn’t thought about my Omegas not being okay with it.  It was a two-way street.

Wait.

I spun to Channie and Lixie.  “That’s why you were angry?  Because I smelled like another Omega?”

Channie shrugged and Lixie looked away.

“You dummies!  Do you realize how easy that is to fix?”  I pointed out.  Just them leaving their scent on me would dilute Tads, but they stopped touching me instead.  “I’m sorry I didn’t make sure you were okay with the hug first.  If the roles were reversed, I would get jealous too.  Just – talk to me next time, okay?”

“We don’t have the right to tell you who you can and can’t be around.  Or hug.”  Lixie argued.

“Fuck that!  Don’t be all up on whore Omegas!  You’re ours!”  Lino snapped, taking off his hoodie and shoving me into it gently, but with no room for argument.

I let Lino put his scent on me but ignored his comment.  I knew he didn’t mean it the way it sounded, and it was mostly jealousy talking at the moment, coupled with the fact that we had been apart for a long time today.

“To some extent you do.  I am your Alpha just as much as you’re my Omegas.  If any of us are uncomfortable with another being around a certain person, bring it up.  We can discuss it.  Talk through it.”  Now that I had Hyun and Linos’ scent on me, Hannie finally came in for his hugs.

“No Omegas.  Just us.”  He hummed in my ear.  I could feel his pout against my skin.

I patted his back.  “That’s unfeasible.  But I will limit the touching.  No hugs without permission.”  I reasoned.  That was easy enough.  It’s not like I go around hugging everyone I meet.  Tad was an exception because he had stirred emotions in me by being so friendly and supportive.

~

We found an empty room and I arranged the Omegas in a giant pile.  I was able to touch them all in some way.  Craving contact and togetherness while I could still get it.

Soon we would be forced to separate again.  Schedules did not wait, and they didn’t care how we felt about it either.  But for now, we clung to each other and talked about silly, meaningless things.  For this moment we were together and nothing else mattered.  I felt my frazzled, stressed instincts settle and quiet.  There was nothing more calming and peaceful than this.

We didn’t talk anymore about the events at the interview or photoshoot, but they all made a point to leave their scents a little heavier than they usually did.  I was more than willing to let them.  Though I noted Channie and Lixie barely participated, much to my disappointment.

I hadn’t even pushed Alpha on them that hard, just enough for them to feel it really.  They were only taking it so hard because it was the first time, and they hadn’t expected it.  I already felt guilty enough about it.

Well after dark we were all still up.  I was laying on the couch in the studio, eyes closed, but not sleeping.  Hannie and Hyun had left to do their things and come back already.  We were still spread out, but in the same building at least.  And as far as I could tell, no one was close to finishing up for the day yet.  The Omegas came and went, leaving me to relax with just a small brush against me or a thoughtful gesture.  Draping a blanket over me, dimming the lights a little, tucking the blanket around me tighter.  Then they left again.

Until I noticed someone lingering.  Electrical storm and sour filled the air as Lixie floated here and there int e room, fiddling with things quietly and staying close to me, but not speaking or touching me.

“Lixie, babe?”  I finally asked scooting to lean on the arm of the couch instead of laying down.  The blonde Omega jumped like I had shouted at him.

Lixie made a noise of question, but didn’t look at me.  Instead, he was fingering blindly at some papers, eyes fixed on the floor and reeking of anxiety.  I didn’t like how he was acting.  It wasn’t his usual clingy self I had come to love and appreciate.

“Talk to me, my sunshine.”  I requested quietly.  “Tell me what’s wrong.”  I wanted to fix it.  I wanted my Omega to be happy and content again.

It took a bit longer for Lixie to gather the courage to open to his worries.  He turned away briefly and straightened more things before taking a deep breath and facing me again.

“Are…are you still mad at me?”  He finally got out.  He was holding his breath.  Waiting for the answer he was terrified to hear.

My heart sank for him.  “Oh, baby boy!  We already talked through this.”  I cooed reaching for him.

But he pulled away, shaking his head.  “Not about the other Omega.”  He looked miserable.  “I broke my promise.”  His voice broke and barely came out in a whisper.

Oh!  His promise to help me with the shoot so I didn’t look stupid.  I honestly had forgotten about that part since it had all ended up turning out okay.  Reaching out again I managed to get his hand before he could pull further away.  “Come here, babe.”  I pulled on him gently and he willingly came with me almost sagging into me.

I settled him on top of me, with him resting his head on my chest and snaking a hand under my shirt to seek skin on skin contact.  His fingers were cold against my warm skin, and I felt goosebumps raise where he touched me.

I smoothed back his hair and kissed his forehead.  “I was never mad about that, Lix.  I was disappointed.”

“That’s so much worse!”  He whined, burying his face in my chest and groaning high pitched.  He kicked his feet and squeezed my waist tighter.  I had to suppress a giggle at the cuteness of baby Lix.

I continued to stroke his hair.  “I rely on you guys for all this idol stuff that I don’t have any experience with.  Chan, Seungmin, and J all kept the threats from me.  Then you left me on my own at the shoot.  It really feels like I can’t depend on you guys.  And that makes me very sad and lonely.”  I explained.

“Not alone.  Never alone.”  He somehow made himself heavier, pushing me onto the couch to emphasize his point.  “I won’t do that to you again.  I don’t care how upset I am.  It’s not worth breaking a promise.  Its not worth letting you down.”

“You shouldn’t make promised you can’t keep.”  I chastised gently poking his nose playfully.

“I’ll keep this one.  I’ll keep all my promises to you.  It’s the very least you deserve.”

I smiled gently.  “Okay, Lix, I believe you.”

“No, you don’t.  But ill prove it to you.”

I wrapped around him tighter and draped a blanket over the both of us.  Something told me Lixie would do everything he could to prove it to me.  To make it up to me in every way he could.  Over and over.

That night Hannie and Seungmin stayed with me to ward off most of the fear and nightmares.  Sungmin’s arms wrapped securely around me, guarding me while Hannie’s heat staved off the cold trickle of fear.  The nightmares, when they came, were interrupted quickly by soft whispers and featherlight kisses.

And then when I woke up in the morning, I was completely alone.

！！(゜ロ゜ノ)ノ

General Taglist @stellasays45 @beebee18 @weird-bookworm

Unwilling Alpha Taglist: @xxeiraxx @hanniemylovelyquokka @breadedloafs @songleepark @f1ln4dr3cl16mv33 @hyunjinhoexxx @kayleefriedchicken @vietjeb @hityoulikebahng @juju-227592 @ionlyeverwantedtobeyourequal @royal-shinigami @bangchansfavoritenoona @straykidslvr @bookswillfindyouaway @h0rnyp0t @Svmmerstime @jennibahng @kpopandmusicpassion @jasmin-loves-k-pop @cookey-lock @possum-playground @demigoddreamon-blog @rei-reia @dreamerwasfound @jasmin-loves-k-pop @ms-flowergirl @princess-sunshyn @technicallyimportantsweets @mbioooo0000 @jisungs-iced-americano @bluesoobinnie @threeopossumsinacoat @kkamismom12

[rigginsstreet]

@runraerun made some wheels for @harringrovekinktober prompts (here in case anyone wants to play around and write something even after october) and my 3 prompts were rimming, ghost hunting, and bennys burgers which made me laugh so i decided to write something aaand here it is happy halloween 🖤

-

"this is such a bad idea."

"quit your bitching."

billy's hunched over the padlock blocking entry into the now desolate diner, trying to pick his way in with a bobby pin he stole from max's side of the bathroom.

"it's weird, billy!" harrington's whining behind him. "a guy died here, have some fucking respect."

"aha!" billy shouts as he gets the lock open, pulls out the chains holding the door closed and kicks it open before turning around to face steve. "and that's why we're going to see if all the rumors are true. so stop being a pansy ass and come in. wanna see if there's still any brains left over."

the rumors, of course, are that the place has been haunted for the past 40 years ever since the Benny of Benny's Burgers was found by the counter with his head blown off. and billy, being billy, has been itching to get out here ever since steve made the mistake of mentioning this to him as part of the town lore when he was trying to impress the hot new guy a few weeks ago... (it worked, of course, because steve got himself a new semi-boyfriend out of it, it's just that said boyfriend is kind of a psycho maniac, turns out.)

"you're a sick weirdo freak," steve deadpans, slightly disgusted.

billy just grins at him, tongue between his teeth. "that's what makes the sex so good."

billy steps in without further notice, and there's a split second where steve thinks about ditching his ass and just going to tina's party or something. find himself a nice normal somebody to hook up with instead.

he follows billy inside.

the place smells like old grease and mothballs. can't see shit inside until billy clicks on a flashlight and they're treated to a view of fallen bits of ceiling, cobwebs, and old graffiti.

"cute," billy says as he walks up to a wall with a satanic goat head painted on.

"okay! we came, we saw, no ghosts, let's go." steve is not freaked out, he just doesn't want to stay in this place any longer than he has to. he also doesn't want to risk tetanus.

the front door slams shut then, and billy starts cackling like some evil witch when steve jumps from the noise, because it's loud, not because he's scared.

"god, you really are a pussy," billy's still laughing, and steve wants to deck him in the nose.

"ok, you know what? fuck you. i'm leaving."

steve's had enough. he's not putting up with this the rest of the night. he's got better places to be, better company to keep. except.

billy's grabbing him by the waist as he tries to make his exit. pulls him til his back is flush against billy's chest, and billy's got his arms wrapped around him tight, faces pressed cheek to cheek in an oddly intimate pose for someone like billy hargrove who, in steve's short time of knowing him, hasn't really done much of intimate at all.

"hey, hey, i'm sorry, alright? i'll protect you from the big bad monsters..."

steve rolls his eyes because of course billy can't help himself from being a prick about it, but like.

the embrace does feel nice. maybe steve's a sucker. but he's fine with that fact as billy's turning him in his arms and suddenly they're face to face.

"only monster i need protection from is you."

"aw, baby, now how can you say i'm the bad guy when i treat you so good..."

billy takes steve's chin between his thumb and forefinger, guiding their mouths together at a tortuously slow pace that leaves steve's knees feeling like jello when their lips finally touch.

steve kind of forgets where they are after that. for as annoying as billy is, he's frustratingly a really fucking good kisser.

so steve lets himself get lost in it. has his hands fisted in the denim of billy's jacket and walks them back until billy hits the old diner counter with a grunt. makes billy kiss back harder, biting at steve's lips like he's some rabid animal. it's how it always goes with them.

"thought we were s'pposed to be ghost hunting?" steve asks between kisses. not that he really gives a shit. this is much better than disturbing restless spirits.

"got something else for you to hunt."

steve groans at the horrible joke, but then billy's whispering all husky against his mouth "want you to fuck me," and then steve's groaning for a whole different reason.

steve kind of wants to object, because this is not the place he wants to be doing this. but the thing is... billy hasn't actually let steve fuck him yet. all their hook ups have been the other way around and like, that's been all fine and great, but steve's kind of been itching to have his go at billy. and if this is his opportunity being handed to him on a silver platter, then, well...

"god, yes."

he's maybe a little more enthusiastic than necessary when he goes to undo billy's jeans. would be embarrassed about it under other circumstances, but he's a man possessed. maybe it's all the jitters from earlier. fuck if he knows.

but before he can pull billy's jeans down billy's stopping him with a hand to his chest, all calm and slow like the biggest cocktease in the world. for a second steve thinks he's been played, that billy's gonna start laughing in his face and tell him as if. but he doesn't.

"first thing's first, cowboy."

he tugs on steve's shirt, forcing him down to his knees as billy turns around, back to him. ass to him, really, once steve's in the desired position. and it takes steve a second to process it, what billy's wanting. but then billy's bending forward and planting his forearms onto an old vinyl cushion of the counter stools, and he's giving his ass a little wiggle right in steve's face and... yeah, okay. he gets the message. fuck.

he's done this before, just not with billy.

well, not to billy. billy's usually the one doing it to him, and he's fucking good at that, too. so. no pressure or anything.

"c'mon, harrington, i wanna wake the dead."

"ew, don't talk about that right now."

billy laughs while steve shakes off his disgust. refocuses on billy's ass in front of him and how he needs to remove the current barriers between them.

billy's ass is kind of glorious up close. not that steve would tell billy that, like the guy needs an ego boost. but seeing it stripped bare right in front of him he can better admire how taut it is, how golden it is, somehow, just like the rest of billy (an imagine springs to mind of billy sunbathing naked and it's got steve all kinds of things.)

there's a light dusting of hair that steve can see and feel as his hands make slow, methodical work of massaging him, getting him nice and relaxed before steve spreads him open and goes to work.

the tiny gasp billy let's out does wonders for steve's own ego. spurred on by all of billy's pleased noises he really sinks his teeth in - so to speak.

"fuck, harrington," billy breathes. "and everyone says i've got the wicked tongue..." he's cut off by a moan, and steve can't help but smirk to himself.

"they don't call me king for nothing," steve quips before going back in and fucking his tongue into billy's hole, relishing in the whimpers billy's letting out.

if only everyone at school could see big bad billy hargrove now, reduced to a whimpering mess all because of steve harrington. it sends a little jolt straight to his dick, he can't lie.

"wanna fuck you so bad..." steve breathes, brain going foggy as he bites into the meat of billy's ass.

"no one's stopping you." billy's trying to sound like his usually cocksure self, but the effect is hindered somewhat by the desperate rasp of his voice.

steve's all set to get on with it, getting ready to pull himself up to his feet when there's a loud crash coming from the kitchen.

"the hell was that?" he asks.

billy looks up, almost like he, too, was spooked, but of course he won't just say that.

"probably just an animal or something. get back to fucking me."

"i haven't started," steve mutters, back on his feet.

he's halfway to zipping down his fly when there's another crash, except this time it's from a rock, he assumes, hurling right past them til is cracks on the wall behind them.

"that's not a fucking animal, billy!" and, okay, maybe steve's kind of losing himself a little here, but, like, can he be blamed?

even billy's shot up, staring into the kitchen with wide eyes. "it's gotta be the wind or something... it's fine."

billy tries to tug steve closer to him to get on with the show, but it's in that moment a piece of the ceiling comes hailing down next to them, and steve's had enough.

"nope! no way! im out of here!"

even billy seems to have finally gotten his sense and is pulling his pants up, running out of the place right behind steve.

"homophobic ass ghost," he's mumbling to himself as they reach the door, and another rock flies by and cracks the glass.

"don't antagonize it, billy!" steve grabs billys arm and hauls him outside. "sorry mr. benny, sir! won't happen again!"

billy flips the diner the bird as they're running away, and steve will swear on his life he actually heard the bellowing sound of a man's voice yelling at them. nothing distinct, just... unsettling howling of sorts.

steve doesn't want to think about it.

only when the diner is out of view do they finally stop running.

steve's heart feels like it's about to leap out of his chest as he glares at billy. his lungs are gonna explode. "next time you want someone to fuck you, try taking them somewhere normal like a motel 6. asshole."

billy, despite his own look of fear, starts laughing. "you gotta admit this makes for a better story, though."

steve just shakes his head, still trying to catch his breath. "asshole."

[drdemonprince]

to the anon who sent me the message that took them 4 hours to draft.

I think your experience both with organizing and disability has probably provoked you to rethink the entire concept of "success" as our culture has defined it, even if you feel yourself still longing for some of the comfort and ease that capitalistic success can seemingly provide (or that we are conditioned to believe it can provide). im not sure what to say that can match the effort your put into your message, in fact i am galled by the fact that i know that i can't match that effort. i don't know how to make sense of the fact that a person who is finding it incredibly difficult to remain connected and engaged during this time, due to disability, has decided that i was worth that level of effort when they don't have the energy to message people they know. i don't think i am worth that effort. but i also respect that mired in all that you're mired in, it's a meaningful gesture toward engagement and connection to even bother writing such a message. i just think in a lot of ways i am a misplaced target for it, because i am a ridiculously privileged and publicly exposed individual who receives dozens of heartfelt messages that he doesnt find the time to respond to every single day. i think if anything that i've written rubs you the wrong way you'd be right to approach it with cynicism. because what the fuck do i know, banging around on my laptop every day and getting paid for it. how dare i lecture anybody about not unlearning capitalism adequately enough. i am one of capitalisms little milking cows. a massive publishing company makes a weekly profit off of me, off the byproduct of the worst years of my life and my worst traumas, as well as the meaning i've made from the scholarship of others.

i'm so enraged for you that you got a debilitating case of COVID (after several other cases) on an encampment, and that now the community you foster at that encampment is not there for you. i am disgusted at how more seasoned activists and organizations have regarded student protestors as disposable this entire year, selling them out to the cops, cutting bad deals with campus administration, and sending them to yellow and red risk level actions without adequate communication and getting them kettled and beat, or else nullifying their efforts with mealy-mouthed talk about keeping things peaceful. i see so many toothless, neoliberal protests happening here, ones that serve only as fundraisers for massive nonprofit orgs, and i also see literal teenagers being dragged right into paddy wagons by the likes of the PSL or the RCP while the Dems deride them and dance to Brat tracks, not even pretending to care the way they unconvincingly did in say 2020.

It's all making me terribly cynical, wondering where we are headed and whether i can or should encourage people who are younger, stronger, more energetic, more pliable, and more vulnerable to me to give up all that they've got for a cause when it's likely gonna be chewed up and spit out and not met in effort by anyone else. i am mournful of the fact that even i can't match that effort. every time i get a message from a friend or acquaintance who is going through some new awful traumatizing event i want to just curl up and disappear, because i can't even keep up with sending compassionate messages to all of them, let alone actually showing the fuck up and doing anything for them. and so sometimes i slip into the disaffected, blunted feeling that once led me as a younger man into libertarianism, thinking that all i can or should do is look after my own wellbeing, and fuck everybody else. and obviously that is a horrible path that is not by any means moral and certainly didn't help me anyway. it felt like we were on the brink of a great paradigm shift of some kind, a collapse of these evil systems, and now it feels like all of that is as far away as it's ever been, and that there aren't enough people with class consciousness and care for one another to make it happen.

i don't know. i think we all have to abandon our dreams of success, of comfort, of saving the world, the fantasies of everything being fine. i think we need to look to our immediate surroundings and our communities. i think we need to ask for help a whole hell of a lot more than any of us are doing, and to recognize that that is a form of helping. i think we need to get small. and remember we are weak animals. and stop thinking there is anything special or chosen about us. and to remember that nature can often be very cruel and that there is nothing we are owed. disabled people already know this of course, we know life isn't fair. we try to do what we can and yet we wake up feeling even less capable the next day, and it knows no logic and the universe remains indifferent to it. but there are people around us who can care, when we ask them to. and ways that we can just be there alongside one another in the muck of it all. not even necessarily making things better. certainly not being a savior and making the pain go away. maybe just sitting in the muck together.

all of which is to say, i am feeling stuck and overwhelmed and useless myself, anon, and i dont have any more answers than you. but thanks for messaging. im sorry people have taking advantage of you. including in my opinion lots of other activists. looking after yourself and not letting people guilt you doesn't mean turning into a conservative. the kind of anarchy that i am embracing right now is one that goes beyond linear change, beyond making meaning, beyond any idealistic visions of the future, beyond even fighting for some kind of symbolic survival. it's just being. none of it has to mean anything, none of it has to be headed anywhere. it just is. there is plenty for you to be bitter about.

[aqours]

i've shared my thoughts on this in dms with like 3 people so i wanted to put it on paper so i can always get it

so i think one of the biggest questions that goes around tcoaatl is regarding it's incest, asked in both good faith and by annoying antis: "so is the incest... actually like portrayed as bad? or is it just hot and fetishized and romanticized?" and y'know, i think the most genuinely HONEST answer regarding that is this: "it's both." (the later mostly romanticized)

the Graves siblings have a horrifically co-dependent relationship which even the steam page is very happy to make you remember, multiple characters acknowledge it, it's a fucking awful terrible thing and you can make decisions that acknowledge it and its obvious to anyone with two eyes and a brain capable of basic critical thought that realistically while you can do w/e you want in a fanfic in a canon sense there's no way gravecest cannot result in what will ultimately be a lifetime of suffering even if both parties don't want to admit it. you're condemning them both to a chance of ever finding real genuine happiness that can exist without the other

that being said? they're both conventionally attractive and the game doesn't really shy from making its physical intimacy look hot and it's clear that nemlei doesn't want that physical intimacy to be disgusting or something that will make you feel ashamed if you intentionally pursued

i feel like this is the aspect of tcoaal that is debated the most on all sides of the fandom and i just wanted to post my own two cents in that i think the answer is "its both." the extent of how co-dependent these two are is very clear that it's not good and that most likely in the final release the best outcome for these two will probably involve acknowledging it

but also if you were to approach nemlei and just told her "listen i just think it's hot i don't give a shit about any of that other stuff i just wanna ship them." i think nemlei herself would nod and respect your decision completely. probably feed you even more if anything

you're free to disagree with me, i just wanna state my own thoughts somewhere, so i think the answer is a very solid "it's both" when it comes to this. tcoaal portrays the incest as horribly psychologically damaging for these two but also at the same time it's obviously not gonna judge you for liking it and if you find it hot nemlei would never judge you for it i think

but i just cannot in any capacity really take the argument it's a hard one or another seriously. i think if tcoaal wanted gravecest to only be seen as bad and horrifying that nemlei would've made different decisions in writing it bc it's obvious she COULD have if she wanted to, but also it's not fair to say it just makes incest look hot and sexy when it does show how fucked up it's characters are because of it

so... just wanted to say yeah- i think it's both

[mxqdii]

omg i loved the chris imagine so much holy shit

if youve heard the song, could you perhaps do an imagine (chris sturniolo x reader) based on the song Ant Pile by dominic fike?

it doesnt have to be a song fic necessarily, but like just kinda based on it yk? completely up to you!!

fave song fr 🙏🙏

ant pile - c.s

pairings: chris sturniolo x reader

summary: based on the song 'ant pile' by dominic fike

warning(s): mentions of drugs

a/n: i'm not too familiar with this song so i'm sorry if anything is wrong!! i tried my best :)

not proofread

"remember the day we met?" he asks and i groan

"i wish i didn't" i say laughing

"wait what happened?" matt asks and i look at chris, letting him explain the story

"first grade, someone tied her to a fucking ant pile" chris explains

"how do you tie someone to an ant pile??" nick shouts

i remember back then, i always knew chris liked me.

then we went to highschool and we started dating..

9TH GRADE:

i push chris against my locker

"hey! ow!" he says and i shush him

"sorry! i just missed you" i say hugging him

"lets go home before my mom gets there" i say, sadness evident in my voice as i grab chris's hand and lead him outside

chris has always been there for me, espically in highschool when the whole thing with my mom went down..

the triplets and marylou let me stay with them for a while because of that whole incident

ever since my dad passed away, she'd bring home a different lover everyday

she even threw her wedding ring away, i had to ding through the trash to find it.

the worst part was, i still loved her, a lot.

chris knew that and even though i didn't understand my feelings, he was good at helping me understand them

espically when all my mom did was drugs.

8TH GRADE:

it's the first day of 8th grade and i'm terrified.. i haven't seen chris since last summer

i look so different..

i walk into school, on my way to my locker, but i stop in my tracks seeing chris

we catch eye contact and he immediately walks towards me

he kisses me unexpectedly and i smile, hugging him.

9TH GRADE:

chris has decided to take me on a date..

i'm really nervous, espically because i didn't have anyone to help me get ready

but i think i look fine, i hope i look fine atleast..

chris picks me up and go to watch a movie.. which was awful

so we then went to dinner, what could go wrong at dinner?

turns out everything because i ended up being allergic to the pasta they gave me.

as chris is driving me home, silence filling the car, he pulls over looking towards me

"let me get a redo. anywhere you wanna go, you can pick it and i'll meet you there"

whats the worst that could happen next evening?

today was the worst it can get.

10TH GRADE:

"i love you" chris says and i look at him, wide eyed

"i've seen you fall to pieces, i've loved you since that day in first grade when you got tied to that ant pile, i love you y/n" he says

theres no more ways this boy can suprise me.

i look at him, seeing his expresssion one unfamiliar, one filled with love.

i run up to him, hugging him.

putting my hands on his face, i kiss him.

"i love you too chris" i say

"how the fuck did we go from you telling us about y/n being tied to an ant pile.. to now telling us your whole relationship story??" nick asks

"sorry! i got carried away" chris says and i laugh

"chris you're a little too enthusiastic at our weird cringe love story" i say and he rolls his eyes

"yeah yeah sure i am" he responds and nick and matt look at eachother in disgust

"can we talk about something else now?" matt says

a/n: i'm not even gonna re-read this because i think i hate it, so i'm so sorry to whoever requested this and i hope i did okay!!

TAGLIST:

@strniolo @stargirlv0id @annaisabookworm

[not-poignant]

The latest UtR update on AO3 got me hooked and I could no longer constrain myself and had to read the other chapters on Patreon. Now I need to know: does Lucien have any redeeming character traits in the series or can I add him straight to the list of characters that deserve the worst? That attitude of his towards Faber made me so mad lmao

Hi anon!

This actually reminds me of the ask I got recently about how awful Augus is as a character and how it's impossible to consider him through a positive light after reading Falling Falling Stars. Because that's how he seems if you've never read him in anything else of mine!

My narrators are unreliable, anon. We only ever see Lucien very briefly through the jealous eyes of an insecure man.

(Spoilers for a future brief verbal encounter between Lucien and Faber in Underline the Red).

Lucien is an extremely vulnerable omega who is in an institution that has temporary custody of him. They control what he eats, what he does, whether he leaves or not (i.e. he's functionally imprisoned), who fucks him, if he gets to see anyone else, if he can talk to his partner and family back home and how often. He has significant psychiatric issues around his own insecurities re: jealously and his partner, and he clocks Faber as being in love with Caleb, and he's right.

And that's incredibly unethical of Faber, honestly, to not have disclosed any of this to Dr Gary (like Dr Gary will be right to consider firing him over this in the future). It puts Lucien's mental health in direct and severe jeopardy, and is ironically likely what causes his relapse that causes Caleb to suggest domestic discipline in the first place (oh, Faber, the irony).

Because Lucien's there to learn that actually a lot of his jealousy and insecurity is unfounded. Instead, he learns the opposite, that no matter who he bonds with, someone else is there loving his potential partner while he perceives himself as having very little control (and in the case of Hillview - this is true, all he has are his words).

He's a chronically disabled omega who needs a disability aid (walking stick) to get around, he's a second class citizen, he's agreed with his partner to stay at Hillview because they both recognise how sick he's getting.

Faber is not a mental health patient/omega like Lucien is. He's a staff member who is nursing unrequited loved to an alpha companion, that he's refused to disclose, while still interacting with Caleb and his omegas. Imho, while Lucien is very good at lashing out, he's not wrong to, and that's why Faber fully acknowledges what Lucien is saying and listens to him, and basically never interacts with him again, and avoids Caleb where possible.

Lucien's mean about it, but Lucien is right re: Faber trying to hide his feelings because he knows what will happen if people find out, and that it's also wrong/unfair to put Lucien in that position.

And Faber knows that.

So yeah. The reader is meant to hate Lucien on a surface level, in the same way that Faber does.

But consider that Faber also sometimes seems to hate all omegas. He finds the smell of their heats disgusting. It's actually pretty normal for people to go through a phase of rejecting the thing that they are, if that's something hated in society. Faber's oscillating mixed feelings of bitterness, resentment and cutting attitude is actually mirrored in Lucien.

Faber has thought extremely savage, scathing and unforgiving things himself to the people around him (and himself). Lucien responds to Faber like Faber is an omega (something Faber doesn't recognise yet), because Faber...kind of acts like one in moments like that. (Efnisien also picks up on this, Faber is not great to him in the beginning of Underline the Black, in a very specific way designed for Efnisien to pick up on, and for Gary to miss. Faber behaves jealously, and constantly suggests to Gary that he should get rid of Efnisien, before he finally adjusts to the absence of Gary in his life. Faber is possessive and manipulative!)

Lucien ultimately doesn't need any redeeming characteristics because he's a victim who is at Hillview to heal and Faber is jeopardising that. We can hate him, but that's just the fact. He didn't try to kill Kadek when he arrived at Hillview, he hasn't tried to destroy memories of James, things Efnisien has done even though we love him all the same (ideally). Lucien felt understandably jealous/insecure (literally the thing he's at Hillview to be treated for, safe from people who will be in love with his lover until Faber) and he lashed out meanly.

If a staff member of Hillview can't handle some rude words, they shouldn't work there.

But yeah, I like the Lucien and Faber encounter because they are both extremely similar people in some ways. They are both bitter, jealous, resentful people capable of very scathing thoughts (and words). The only difference is that in that moment, Faber is the recipient and we feel bad for him. I mean, I do feel bad for him. Faber is in a bad place psychologically, it's a horrible thing for him to experience.

If we were getting Lucien's story from his perspective, and saw the panic attacks he had afterwards, and the regression he went through, etc. it might be different. But it doesn't have to be! Lucien in that moment functions as a reality check for Faber, and a very effective one at that. We're meant to hate him, but also meant to understand that Faber's love for Caleb is not as subtle as he thinks it is in the sense that - omegas can see it for what it is.

I personally like the one moment where we see that Lucien might have a heart when Faber admits his parents are dead, and we can see that he doesn't react with savage satisfaction, but like Faber broke the narrative he'd built for himself in his own insecure, jealous, scared mind.

[nightfallgame]

(NSFW) SHORT — Yasha (02)

Originally Written: 06-17-20

Prompt: Liz~ could we get a little scenario of Yasha in which, and I quote Sapphi, "[…] make fun of him for having a grossly big dick, then make him crossdress with a delicate short skirt and give him an erection and watch him get embarrassed" >:3c.

The skirt shows way to much of Yasha's thighs, he thinks. 

The thing is a pure white dress that's really more of an overlong shirt. It's short-sleeved, trimmed with a bit of thin lace, and the skirt barely, barely clears Yasha's ass. In the front, it covers precious little. You haven't allowed him any underwear, so his dick is resting against his thigh, more of it poking out from under the skirt than not. 

It's a sight that makes Yasha feel a little sick— and all kinds of uncomfortable. His body has always been a thing that he's not fond of. 

To begin with, he's too tall, too skinny, too lanky. He looks like a stick figure in his own eyes, all bony and sharp and overlarge. The thing between his legs is even worse. It's big enough to be awkward, and all Yasha can think is that, with a partner, it would hurt.

He doesn't want to hurt anyone. 

Especially not you. 

"Look at that thing," you laugh, pointing right at where his dick hangs out from under the skirt. "I think there's more outside your dress than under it. Wow."

Yasha flinches. He looks away. He knows that you're just playing, but the words still sting. He already knows that it's awful, that it's awkwardly big on his skinny frame. 

"Seriously, that's kind of gross. It's just," you step forward, reaching down and taking ahold of Yasha's dick, "like this piece of meat. So big and heavy. Doesn't it feel weird down here? I'd think you'd never be able to ignore it."

You're grinning cruelly. Your fingers are so, so warm. Yasha is suddenly a thousand times more aware of the weight between his legs. 

"Answer me."

"Y-Yes. It's heavy, I know. Ah—! Your hand..."

You curl your fingers while he's talking, stroking Yasha's dick up and down. He shivers, eyes closing a bit as his body reacts against his will. No matter how nervous he is, your touch always feels so, so good. 

"It's gross, that's what it is. I couldn't ever have this inside of me. It's so awkward-looking, too. You're way too skinny for a cock this huge to be attached." You snicker, still stroking gently. The dichotomy between harsh words and tender touch is making Yasha's head spin. 

"I'm sorry..." he whispers. Even through his humiliation, Yasha feels his cock twitch. 

"Mm, you shouldn't be. You're pretty anyway."

Yasha feels a little whimper leave him. Your hand feels so, so good. You're stroking him at just the right pace that he's hardening up in no time. Worst of all, you can feel every second of how he's stiffening. His cock is right in your hand, and only getting bigger with arousal. Involuntarily, his hips nudge into your grip, fucking your hand on instinct. 

You keep stroking until he's fully hard, dripping a bit at the tip, and starting to squirm. Yasha's breathing has picked up too, by this point. He's getting increasingly turned on— even as he's painfully aware of how awful it must look. 

"Gross," you comment once he's fully hard. "Look at it. Yasha, look at it. The skirt isn't even cover it anymore."

Yasha glances down, knowing he'll regret it. 

Just as you say, the skirt has been pushed back, exposing every part of his cock. There's nothing hiding it, nothing protecting it. You're staring right at him, and Yasha can barely stop from fidgeting. You don't want him to hide or cover himself, so he can't. You're enjoying this, enjoying watching him squirm. 

"I gave you such a delicate dress. It was so pretty. And then you get hard and drip all over it? You're making a mess, Yasha. Even my hand is getting covered with your come."

Yasha tries to get out another apology, but—

"No apologizing. You're gorgeous, my sweet boy. I don't mind. It's disgusting, but I can put up with it for you. You're so cute that I don't care." The whiplash makes Yasha's head spin. He's ugly. He's worth touching. He's gross. He's gorgeous. 

You don't seem to be able to give him a straight answer on which it is. 

"Look at how hard you are," you comment, swirling your index fingers around Yasha's tip. That draws a little moan out of him. He twitches into the stimulation helplessly. 

"I-I see it..." Yasha replies, making sure to speak clearly.

He's so humiliated that he can barely sit still. Staring down at his achingly hard cock, swollen and red just from your touch, he can feel his face burn. The shame is eating him alive, but you don't seem to want to quit touching him. 

You keep playing with him, toying with his cock just to see how he reacts. Yasha gasps and squirms, obedient to your touch like a puppet on strings. Everything you do draws another little noise out of him. He hates the feeling of desperate arousal, he always has, but when it's you touching him, it's hard to be anything but grateful. You're gentle. You're good to him. He should be so, so grateful that you're willing to do this at all. 

Yasha's next gasp sounds more like a sob. 

"It's disgusting," you say next, amusement in your voice. "I've barely touched you, and you're freaking dripping for me. What, are you this easy for everyone? Or am I special? I play with your cock a bit and you can't even sit still."

"Only you—" Yasha moans. "You're the only one I-I'd ever—"

Your gaze softens. You smile so, so kindly. 

"Now, that's what I like to hear. I'm your one and only, aren't I? And you're mine. I only want you, Yasha. You're my wonderful boy."

You give him a solid, slow stroke. Yasha feels his breath leave him like he's been punched. He's not close, not yet, but he knows he's getting there. You're going to make him come all over your hand, dirtying you with what comes out. 

Yasha thinks of licking it off of your fingers, shuddering helplessly at the thought.

[notstilinski]

Smosh Playing Dread Starters !

Taken from the Smosh Games' series, Smosh vs. Jenga! Some of these have already been edited. You can change them however you see fit! 

“God dies.”

“Get ready for a lot of incorrect 2000s references.”

“When you’re in water polo, you don’t kick your legs at all. It’s all arms.”

“Yeah, I’m picturing it. It’s… Awful.”

“Okay, so there’s some residue uh-oh tension from being bored.”

“I get the shits from Dairy Queen.”

“I’m crying, I’ve been here for fifteen minutes.”

“Even your spoiled asses can appreciate some, you know, a little bit of that freshness that you can’t get.”

“Gotta keep this ass fat, am I right?”

“I wonder who’s gonna die first.”

“(Name) is really mean when they’re hungry so I’m gonna get this.”

“You’re at your bravest in water.”

“Your pants are soaked in piss.”

“Barney, my pebbles!”

“I’m here. I went all this way.”

“I’m working on being more open about my feelings and, you know, I’m scared.”

“That’s the only idea I’ve heard and I’m down.”

“Is anybody a Taurus in this car? I feel like this a sign.”

“You’re right, you’re right. It’s because of me. I’m sorry.”

“Whoever gets the most stars gets to sleep with me at the end of the night.”

“Yeah. My father pays the commissioner so let’s call him!”

“All right, your cosmic wrong goes unpunished.”

“We don’t know he’s dead!”

“Before we get out, has anyone ever seen a dead body?”

“Where… Are you guys, are you guys with the military?”

“Do you need assistance? What happened?”

“Why are they bombing us? Why are they bombing us?!”

“Uh, we need to get the fuck out of here, (Name).”

“Not really an executive decision when we all agree.”

“Is this what mono is? I’ve only heard of mono.”

“It’s my emotional support bat.”

“Don’t feel bad, (Name). They were sick and disgusting.”

“It’s either ‘Halo’ or the return of Christ. It’s only one of those two things.”

“You’re gonna die from misogyny.”

“Ew! You’re old!”

“I may be a dickhead, but at least I’m not a misogynist, like (Name).”

“It’s not the apocalypse, this is just Seattle.”

“Those are some question that somebody whose about to rob you asks.”

“If you don’t want anyone else to get hurt, you shut the fuck up!”

“They drown in water, but thrive in blood!”

“I grab bag. I always grab bag.”

“If anything goes wrong, I’ll die.”

“Don’t look! Do you want me to come over and get you?”

“Okay, bitch, then do it now!”

“Yeah, we put glue on one of these just to fuck with ya’ll.”

“All right, once again, unpunished from your actions.”

“And I took that personally. And I’m really mad at it.”

“Okay, but you have to stop saying fucked up shit.”

“Were you sleeping with (Name)‘s dad?”

“I’m kind of mad at you guys. So, kind of, screw you guys!”

“It’s right next to the dick sucking factory. Your mom just clocked in.”

“Men are what destroyed this planet.”

“Am I bleeding? Is it that bad?”

“Run for your life, bitch.”

“But, you know, our hands are technically pretty clean here, you know what I mean? It’s an accident.”

“When you stare at the stars and pray to your God, ask them why."

“If we’re going to die, I want to blaze.”

“Would a heroic sacrifice be sick as fuck?”

“If I don’t have my looks then what the fuck am I going to do?”

“I am your God. I am an angel.”

“Okay, bitches, get in that shuttle. We’re taking it for ourselves.”

“Shoot me like Pulp Fiction style!”

“Leave it to me to save your asses one more time.”

[egg-emperor]

It's true . In my experience most callout posts are made by bullies who want to utterly anhilate their victims and render them pariahs, modern day lepers that nobody wants to associate with. If the victim makes money via online commissions they are especially fucked since their livelihood is essentially destroyed by rumors/lies. After all nobody wants to commission from anyone who [insert nasty allegation here]

The victim becomes an acceptable target and thus the behaviour sometimes escalates into real world consequences such as doxxing the victim and contacting the victims school/employer to get them fired or expelled.

Yeah it's true a massive amount of callout style posts are disingenuous and deliberately malicious instead of intending to be helpful. Like 99%. Leaving out important info, twisting things to suit their narrative, making stuff up, or airing things that didn't need to be everyone's public business. So often it's really over not knowing how to privately communicate, or wanting it to go public to turn everyone else against them too and an excuse to bash publicly. This is most obvious when they keep building up more reasons to convince everyone to side with them, going from accusations of something petty and mild to serious crimes. Very slimy

There's also many cases where they'll pretend it's really a care and concern for people they might interact with and their actions when really it's all personal. They have a grudge and hate that person and will do anything to get others to hate and attack, ostracize, shame, and isolate them too. Sometimes over petty stuff like wanting everyone to dismiss everything they have to say or provide in a fandom or something, they think they can immediately "win" by saying "don't listen to them, they're *insert buzzword being used in a situation so far removed from its original context here* !!!!"

Which is so crazy and so scary that it's so normalized. It disgusts me that people will make such serious accusations against people all for selfish, disingenuous, malicious reasons where they don't even really apply. The way people are so quick to easily believe everything they're told even without an ounce of solid proof is just as concerning too. The former have a secret agenda to cause that person pain instead of helping others by "warning" about them, and the latter are either so blindly naive or also have a bias that makes them want to believe there's a "valid" reason to hate them. And they all like how they can feel superior and virtue signal

It's upsetting to see the targeted people's lives get ruined and horrific abuse they can face too. People will gleefully stoop to levels of putting them in harm's way to the point of physical danger irl and destroying their livelihood. As a believer of human rights, I don't think anyone should be treated some of the ways I've seen people treat people in hate campaigns, even if they were guilty. Including people that have hurt me directly and are guilty of something awful because of it, they're still human and have rights. I don't believe human rights should ever be revoked, that would set a harmful precedent

So I don't like seeing how people will act like it's a good thing in situations like callouts and act like no wrong can be done against someone, especially when they're innocent. But even if they're not, it discourages growth. Attacking and isolating someone doesn't teach or help them understand if they did something wrong. People can't violently force people to bend to their will, it won't be genuine. They have to give a chance to acknowledge, grow, and change if it really is necessary and beneficial. In fact, giving them a horrible time may just strengthen their current position because people were assholes or put them in genuine danger

I wish callout posts didn't turn into common things people make when they want personal fights and grudges to have an audience that joins them in attacking them, broadcast sensitive private things to everyone to humiliate, and act morally superior to invalidate their existence and virtue signal to others. It's watered down serious subjects and crimes and taken away all possible reliability or usefulness. It so often destroys way more than it helps, especially when so many innocent people are attacked too. They're rarely tools compared to how often they're weapons now and people need to be more careful and considerate before putting blind good faith into them

[monkeytrick]

ausuweiueuiwqiu12

Sorry I pretty much only make posts like this rn and thnaks to everyone who reads them this is like. So much. But I’ve been freaking out so much lately bc I’m in a much better albeit temporary living situation than I’ve ever been in but I feel like I’m like. Genuinely way too depressed and scared to actually do anything since getting here. Which like I guess I can sorta defend bc I’m recovering from previous situation but I also kinda just feel like it’s how I’d be behaving regardless ☹️I got hired for a job at least but I’ve spent like every day I’ve been here essentially jsut pacing around and then getting really drunk and/or high to avoid thinking about any of the shit I actually need to do and then going to sleep at like 5 am. And I feel so much worse about it bc everyone here actually has been really kind and helpful about trying to help me get things on track but I feel like I’m just unable to do anything I need to do unless I have someone watching and helping me the entire time and I don’t want to put anyone in that position. I am basically like not speaking to anyone at all rn except for the people I live with and a select few internet friends and I have so much shit piling up on here and from people I knew irl in Wisconsin that I just haven’t answered at all. Ptsd symptoms have been getting worse since I first got kicked out and a little before I left for here I was regularly having days where I’d get like genuinely triggered in the most clinical sense from things I can’t really remove from my life and it would lead to me freaking the fuck out and fear vomiting and beyond that I’ve been so stressed that I just can’t eat anything at all without throwing up a lot of the time. I tried looking up if that particularly could be related to ptsd and I found so many people being like ‘yeah that’s a symptom I get it just never went away ever and I lost 80 pounds’ which scared me so fucking bad — I have some solace bc I don’t think it’ll be like that for me, since I got here it’s been like. Ebbing and flowing and I’ve had some days like that but some days where I’m like insanely fucking ravenous for no reason. Which makes me hope so fucking bad it’ll eventually go away but vomiting or getting nauseous being my response to so many things is making me so upset bc i already have really fucked up teeth and I know it’s damaging them so much more I am incredibly close to reaching the point where my upper teeth are just straight up all going to be actively rotting which I feel so disgusting and ashamed of talking about but I don’t know what I can even do to prevent it at this point unless I just full on get dentures or something. I know they’re like. Very obviously snd visibly fucked and I think people are generally polite about it but I feel like it impacts every interaction I have with people irl and all this happening is making me so much more insane and insecure about it. I had multiple really awful ptsd scary days consecutively like immediately after getting here which like, I kind of was prepared for bc I know it can actually get worse when you’re in a safer place but I didn’t expect it to hit so hard so fast and I’m afraid of it continuing to get worse. I’m literally like. In a better place than I have been since I was a small child basically and a MUCH better place than I was immediately before coming here and I’m trying really hard to remind myself of that but it’s so hard to like register anything at all other than being like fuck I need to die they need to kill me etc. I hope so bad I can take the steps to just like get my life together and hopefully get medicated for shit but it just feels so hard for now to exist and be alive at all I wish they could put me in a tube that would give me nutrients or something man

[doing-swell]

(totally understand if this is too personal/you don't want to answer on anon, I'm just also too embarrassed to direct message) how did you work through religious guilt around sexuality/especially attraction to pregnancy? I'm 28f and finally starting to explore more sexually. I definitely don't want kids but the idea of being pregnant is so hot to me and I feel bad even looking at blogs about it. I know logically there's nothing inherently wrong with finding this stuff hot but ooooh boy shame brain disagrees. If you have capacity/ability to talk about how this was for you I'd appreciate it--I also have felt this way since I was a kid and it was really helpful just to know that someone else had that experience!!! Thank you either way, hope you're well<3

Anon! Thank you so much for asking 🩷

It’s taken me a long time to get here, even just viewing these blogs and seeing this content a few years ago would have REALLY scared me away. I always knew I was interested in pregnancy from a young age, and growing bellies were something that I looked to in absolute awe. I didn’t realize it was something I was thinking sexually about until I was in my teens — and then, I was confused even more because I didn’t know I was gay (lol). To be honest, I don’t even remember coming to the realization it was sexual. THAT is how much I pushed it away in my brain. A lot of my life I’ve been suppressing these feelings, taking them and shoving them in a box and putting them on a shelf. Thinking… okay I’ll save THAT for later.

(Continued below!)

It was this blog that made me come to terms with the fetish and kink in general - and the people I’ve met on here made me realize what I experienced was unlike what they also experienced. That was the first step in me realizing, oh hey, this isn’t fucking weird. Other people have the same thoughts and that’s OKAY!

I also think in general it’s so hard to know the people around you and what turns them on… and tbh, no one needs to know that (unless they want to be forward about it). EVERYONE has something a lil kinky they like, whether they’ve found that thing or not, and at the end of the day I’m grateful I know what turns me on AND that I can (or could) actually experience it one day.

Telling my therapist was a huge step for me as well, I told her about my pregnancy fetish a few months ago and what I thought would be met with judgement and disgust was met with… neutrality. She told me that EVERYONE has their thing, and a huge part of why I’m shameful of it is that I’m embarrassed by SEX. Not my fetish. Embracing your sexuality, especially growing up in religious communities is not easy. We were taught our whole lives to be good little girls and never think about such horrid things - but I’m here to say that thinking about these things is 1. Fun and 2. Teaches you who you are and how your relationship with sex could be!

The next step after telling my therapist was telling my girlfriend. I truly thought in my teens and in college I would NEVER tell anyone about my fetish but here I am, in a healthy and happy relationship, with a partner who loves me AND knows about this blog and my fetish. It is freeing in a way I never knew was possible. Hearing her tell me the show we’re about to start has 3 pregnancies I can look forward to, or her telling me she’s so excited for me to be so hot and pregnant with her babies…. It’s HOT. And it’s what other folks who don’t have our certain fetish experience too. We deserve love. We deserve to be turned on and to not live in shame of who we are.

At the end of the day, as long as we’re not hurting anyone with this fetish, we’re only hurting ourselves by suppressing it.

Sorry for the lengthy response, but you definitely unleashed something in me! Always happy to chat with you if you’re ever comfortable. No need to be embarrassed. I wish you so much love and luck in your journey. 🥳🩷