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lovebugism · 4 months ago

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you’re writing for carmy now omg i’m frothing at the mouth 😭 i love the trope where reader is quiet in bed and needs to be coaxed a bit but… i feel like it would be kind of hot if reader was the one coaxing carmy? 👀 no worries if you’re not feeling this one!

ty for requesting! — you teach the bear how to use his voice in the bedroom (new relationship, inexperienced!carmy, experienced!reader-ish, smut 18+)

bug's summer fic fest (⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)

Carmy never notices when he’s quiet. His head is always so loud in comparison — it’s easy to forget he isn’t saying anything out loud when his mind’s constantly racing. He doesn’t mean anything by it, though. He’s just chronically observant. And painfully silent with it.

He lays on his back, pressed between unmade sheets and your warm body. The covers bunch at your bare hips as you roll in languid thrusts over his lap. A satiny summer breeze smooths over your burning skin from a cracked-open window. Every time the curtains billow, more of the moonlight peeks in. It drips in silver shades over your naked skin and your pretty face, now twisted in a look of undeniable pleasure — brows scrunched, eyes closed, mouth wide open.

Carmy’s tattooed hands rest impatiently on your hips. His fingers dig into the plush of them as he rocks you back and forth over his cock. You make pretty noises for him every time your clit brushes his coarse thatch of pubic hair, so he angles his hips just right to make sure you keep hitting that spot.

“Carmy,” you moan in a whimsical sigh that makes his chest swell. “Just like that. ’S so good like that. Please don’t stop—”

His face, made of dark shadows and sharpened edges, is pinched in a look of acute concentration. A distant feeling of deja veux swims in his stomach. It makes him wonder if he’s seen this in a painting before. One of those Renaissance types. The kinds that are harrowingly realistic and always heart-wrenchingly beautiful in a way.

It makes him want to draw you. Just as you are now. Head tossed back, mouth gently agape, lashes fluttering over glowing cheeks. He wouldn’t be able to do any of it justice, but he tries to memorize the soft lines of your face, anyway.

Your hips slow to a stop. Reality hits him hard.

“Woah, woah— Hey,” Carmy mumbles in protest, brows pinched in confusion when he comes down from the clouds. Through labored breaths that make his sweaty chest rise and fall, he wonders, “What happened? Why’d you stop?”

His icy blue eyes dart over your face, searching for any sign of harm. In true Carmen Berzatto fashion, he immediately thinks he’s done something wrong — that he got too far in his own head and hurt you in some way without realizing. The anxiety is fleeting, but he feels the pinch of it anyway — right where your palm rests flat on his chest, just over his pounding heart.

“Are you okay?” you ask him, similarly panicked. Your bare chest sparkles with a thin layer of sweat and catches the moonlight with every uneven inhale.

Carmy nods rapidly, chestnut curls brushing the pillow. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m— I’m great. Why?”

You exhale a small sigh of relief, growing sheepish under his unwavering gaze. You feel a bit silly for stopping now. “You just aren’t… You aren’t really, you know… saying anything,” you answer shyly.

“Am I supposed to be saying something?”

You giggle quietly to yourself until you realize he’s being genuine. Your smile ebbs as you stammer, “Well, no, it’s just— Some people usually moan, I guess— When they feel good.”

Carmy nods firmly in reassurance. “I feel good.”

“Okay…” you nod back, slower and more unsure.

“I promise,” he tells you, tattooed hands squeezing your sides. He shifts nervously on the mattress, similarly victimized by your adoring stare. “I just… I just like watchin’ you, I guess…”

A shy smile quirks the edges of your mouth as you peer down at the boy beneath you. “You’re sweet, bear,” you coo in a honeyed murmur.

“You’re sweeter,” Carmy insists. You think you see the faintest hint of a grin on his lips, but it’s hard to tell in the low light. “Wanna taste?” he teases a second later.

Wordlessly, you bend down for another kiss, far too chaste for his liking. He almost says something about it until you roll your hips again. The words of protest disappear when he inhales sharply through his teeth.

“Does that feel good?” you ask him.

He nods silently, squeezing your sides in a feeble attempt to move you faster on top of him.

“Tell me.”

“Feels good,” Carmy obeys through gritted teeth.

The subtle assurance makes you moan — a pretty, breathy thing that spills accidentally from your opened mouth. All he can think about is getting you to make that sound again.

“Do you like it when I talk to you?” he wonders aloud, very innocuously curious.

You nod, brows furrowed as you grind over his lap. The bed frame squeaks quietly when you roll your hips forward. When you roll them back again, he can hear the faint sounds of your wet pussy — the quiet schlick-ing of his cock fucking into you. The two noises play one after the other in rhythmic tandem. The sinful sounds of sex.

Carmy racks his head for something to say in the not-so-silent meanwhile. You watch him get lost in his mind and cup his cheeks between gentle palms. “Don’t think so hard about it, bear,” you say with a wavering smile. “You don’t have to say anything. It’s okay.”

You duck down to kiss him again. The angle shifts. Carmy bends his knees and fucks up into you, mercilessly and without warning. Your mouth hangs open in another weak moan that fans across his chin.

“That good?” he pants.

“Yes,” you whine. “Carmy— fuck— You’re so deep…”

Babbles spill from your mouth in thinkless slurs. They tumble from your swollen lips with an admirable effortlessness, which Carmy has never thought himself to possess. He tries, anyway, to talk to you with such sinful ease.

“You’re huggin’ me so tight,” he mutters through a clenched jaw. The very first thought to come to mind as the velvet confines of your cunt pulsate around him, squelching quietly in time with his thrusts. “Can feel you throbbin’ around me, babe— Shit— It’s like a fuckin’ heartbeat.”

Your whine fills the quiet bedroom, adding to the symphony of bed squeaking and skin slapping.

Carmy shifts his hips upward. The new angle allows his cock to reach a spongy depth inside you and pins your swollen clit against his happy trail, which now glimmers with a layer of your honey.

“Right there?” he pants.

You nod wordlessly until the words catch up to you. The tip of your nose brushes the bridge of his. “Yes,” you whimper.

His brutal thrusts pick up pace a second later, never wavering in their wicked pursuit. “Let me hit that spot,” Carmy mumbles to himself like a man crazed. “Let me hit that spot, let me hit that spot.”

Pleasure swells within you, overwhelmingly so. It’s a warm and sparkling feeling in the pit of your stomach — a tightening coil, a fraying rope, a dam about to burst. The intensity of your inevitable orgasm frightens you.

“Carmy…” you whimper.

“I know,” he nods sympathetically, right before he plants his feet on the mattress. He strengthens his thrusts, which have slowly started to lose their rhythm. “It’s okay. C’mon. Cum for me— I can feel you fuckin’ drippin’ on me, baby— C’mon.”

Your jaw clenches to fight back the scream clawing at your throat. It comes out in a pitiful whimper instead when you tense over his lap. Your orgasm washes over you in waves that leave you shaking, thighs trembling on either side of his hips.

Carmy goes accidentally silent once more as he watches you, swelling with pride as you reach the height of your pleasure. His light eyes flit over your features in a feeble attempt to memorize them — the furrow between your brows, the wrinkles beside your shut eyes, the spit-slicked sheen to your kissed lips.

You’re painting brought to life. A heavenly thing he can’t believe he gets to touch with unworthy hands.

“That’s it…” Carmy murmurs lowly. The words bubble in his throat and fall from his mouth mindlessly. He doesn’t even have to think about them now. It just feels right to praise you like this. “That’s it. There you go. So pretty… Always so pretty for me.”

As your body racks with aftershocks, you seek refuge in his arms. Your weight rests entirely upon him as your tense limbs slowly relax, but Carmy doesn’t mind. He just wraps his tattooed arms around you and holds your trembling body closer.

“I got you,” he promises through labored breaths, chapped lips brushing your temple with every word. “I got you. ’S okay. You did so good for me, baby. Thank you.”

You don’t have the words to tell him that you should be the one thanking him.

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alargehunkofdebris · 1 year ago

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Aziraphale’s reaction to the kiss: A Breakdown (that’s it that’s the reaction.)

A lot of people say that this anguish Aziraphale feels after the kiss is due to this feeling of “Why now? Why didn’t you do this before, when I wanted you to?” And I think that can be part of it, for sure. But man, that’s just one part of this gigantic, writhing ball of emotions in Aziraphale in that moment, all of them fighting each other, all of them painful. I’m going to breakdown the breakdown, because writing essays analyzing the minds of fictional characters is apparently all I want to do these days. Also, judging by this absolute nutball of a season that confirmed literally multiple “bit of a stretch” deep dives, I feel I can ignore that little voice whispering “this is silly” into my ear. I can dive as deep as I want, because there goes Neil Gaiman with an aqualung, swimming deeper.

So. The kiss, and why Aziraphale looks so gosh darned sad about it.

First of all, there’s shock. Major shock. Because despite everything, he still likely never thought this would ever actually happen. (Him and me both.) Or maybe – a small maybe, but a maybe that I might put a dollar on, if the odds were good – the idea of kissing Crowley never occurred to his conscious brain before at all. He’s so good at compartmentalizing and denying that it’s very possible he’s managed to nip every intrusive thought before it went far enough to be fully conscious.

Then, there’s fear of being seen. (“Who is watching? Will the Metatron see? He only allowed me to work with Crowley after he regained angelic status – if he sees me and Crowley now –”) Then, a layer deeper, there’s his ever-present fear response to things going too fast, because despite how we all know he feels, he’s still not sure he’s ready for any kind of partnership, let alone one this intimate and close. Because even for humans, this is a really, really big jump – we typically don’t kiss when we haven’t even been on a date (officially) yet, and usually not before both parties admit to their feelings.

Then, even deeper, is that anguished, heartbroken “Why now? My God, why now?” response, because his subconscious has always wanted this, but also knows that this is the worst possible time for it to happen, and now he’s lost that first kiss with Crowley—the one he wanted, anyway. The one that was supposed to be filled with joy, and is instead marked with the worst pain he’s ever felt.

Then there’s the second “Why now” response, and this is where I might be dipping a toe into the Hot Take puddle. Because I think there’s that knee-jerk fear response he’s yet to shake, and which overtakes his rational thinking whenever he’s terrified of Heaven or unsure of himself. It’s the suspicion he’s always held of Crowley. He’s thinking “Why now?” as in, “Is this the temptation that God and Heaven warned me about? Is this Crowley the Serpent, fulfilling his duty? Is this the true proffered apple, a kiss that’s meant to keep me from serving Heaven? Is he tempting me, knowing how I feel, knowing I’m weak?”

That’s the true anguish of this scene, I think. He’s fighting all these feelings, but on top is this old fear, this old anger and suspicion of Crowley, assuming he’s lying. Demons lie, Crowley admitted it himself. Crowley is the original Serpent of Eden, designed to tempt people away from God. And this feeling is what’s on top, because the alternative is…what? That Crowley actually feels this way? That Crowley, a demon, loves him, Aziraphale, enough to be this vulnerable, with no wicked ulterior motive? Aziraphale is a lot of things, but he’s certainly not a being who thinks he’s desirable. He sees himself as opposite to Crowley, and if Crowley is temptation personified, Aziraphale is then the personification of undesirableness. Deep down, this idea of the Serpent of Eden being tempted by him, Aziraphale, is simply ludicrous.

And then there’s self-hatred that he even thinks this thought of his friend, then suspicion, then fear again, then confusion, then anguish, then fear, then pain, and so on. All of this happens in a few seconds, and all of it coalesces into a singular takeaway: “This is the worst.” And because the one who technically caused it is Crowley, Aziraphale does what he does very well: he forgives Crowley, because he’s too prim and angelic to say “Goddamn you,” which is what he truly means. Goddamn you for making me feel this way. Goddamn you for making me doubt you. Goddamn you for forcing this option on me, when I can no longer take it, and when I don’t even know if it’s real. Goddamn you for putting this apple in my hands when we both know I can’t eat it. Goddamn you for reminding me that no matter what, it is not in my stars to live a happy life.

#good omens 2 #good omens #good omens 2 spoilers #good omens spoilers #good omens meta #good omens 2 meta #go2 #go2 spoilers #gos2 #gos2 spoilers #good omens s2 spoilers

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sophieinwonderland · 2 months ago

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The Plurality of... Bill Cipher (The Book of Bill)

Spoiler Warning for Gravity Falls, The Book of Bill, and the nature of reality as you know it

Hello dear reader.

I recently found in my possession a strange book with no explanation as to how it got there. A bizarre tome known only as The Book of Bill.

I recognized the name and imagery from someone else's memories. Bill Cipher, a character from Alex Hirsch's hit series Gravity Falls.

It honestly seemed too perfect. I've been doing this "Plurality of..." series where I look at plurality in media. And an important part of Bill's shtick was possession.

It seemed simple enough. I can read the book, learn a bit about Bill and his possession, and then write an article about his plurality. But the reality was anything by simple, with far more than I bargained for.

And by the end of this post, this book will have driven me to break a fundamental rule I've held sacred through my "Plurality Of..." series.

What is Plurality?

Before we begin, I should explain what plurality is for anyone new here. Plurality is a term for being multiple in one body in some way.

We call the body's occupants "headmates". These can be anything from alters in dissociative disorders to spirit guides bound to a mortal, to... yes... even literal demonic possession.

Yeah, even being possessed by a demonic triangle from a 2-dimensional universe is a type of plurality. If there are multiple self-conscious agents of some kind there, it's plural!

Time To Get Weird!

(Art by magentasnail)

Let's catch you up on the basics real quick. Again, there will be huge Gravity Falls spoilers.

In Gravity Falls, Bill Cipher is a yellow a 2-dimensional triangle demon bent on causing chaos.

Through the series, Bill makes deals with multiple characters to possess their bodies. This includes both gaining full control over the body of protagonist Dipper Pines for an episode, and more interestingly, sharing control over the body of Stanford Pines for an extended period of time.

Bill's possession of Dipper left Dipper outside his body like a ghost. But his deal with Stanford is much more plural in nature, where they shared control, with Bill only controlling the body in his sleep.

Obviously real plural systems don't have headmates controlling their body while they sleep like this, but the experience can be seen as analogous to dissociative identity disorder, where it's common to experience blackouts and "wake up" in situations unsure how you got there.

That's all you really need to know about Bill for the time being.

With that out of the way, it's time get weird and dive straight into the Book of Bill!

The Book of Bills

As I begin reading the Book of Bill, I'm given a warning from Stanford Pines that the book will rewrite itself based on the mind of the reader. This seems silly, and I of course dismiss the idea out of hand. Surely there's no way a book could change itself based on who's reading it.

As I venture further into this tome, I find the occasional point of interest. References to Bill living in people's brain, him being an idea, etc.

I stop briefly to ponder that. Why does Bill refer to himself as an idea? Isn't he canonically a being from a physical 2-dimensional world? Him being described as an idea is peculiar, but something I tuck away for the future.

The first thing I find that really piques my interest in regards to plurality is the multiple times that it's just referenced that there are multiple Bills in Bill's head. Such as when Bill refers to "the voices in his head" teaming up.

In the plural community, there's a concept known as median system.

A median system is typically a system which has separate parts that are less distinct from each other. There's a pretty solid case that Bill, having a bunch of Bills in his head, could be considered a median system on his own.

In fact, the book itself actually depicts communication between multiple Bills, in the form of an interview.

And throughout the interview, there are times where the Prime Bill seemingly gets annoyed at the interviewer's questions. As if they are actually different people. While this could be Bill simply duplicating himself and pretending for comedic effect, it could just as easily be that both Bills are headmates in Bill's system.

Bill being a median system is a pretty interesting direction.

As I read on though, the book dragged me down yet another rabbit hole, and raised an important question.

Does Bill Have A Dissociative Disorder???

Let's talk about dissociative identity disorder. There are two main criteria for DID. Criterion A is the presence of two or more distinct personality states. You know, like those Bills in Bill's head.

The second is memory loss.

Recurrent gaps in the recall of everyday events, important personal information, and/or traumatic events.

This is what was on my mind when Bill was describing how he was uniquely gifted with the ability to see into the third dimension, and wanted to teach others this same skill.

But when he tries to recount it... this happened...

To me, this sounds exactly what was described in criterion B. This is also called dissociative amnesia.

And it's not just this one-off example. Bill actually references later that he dissociates (his words) and "wakes up" later after a conquest.

With everything we know, it seems incredibly likely that Bill has DID, or at least a related disorder.

Bill is what he eats

Okay... wait...

So Bill can ALSO imprison the souls of those he eats inside himself, and they can apparently take over Bill's body too???

What actually is going on here? Is this one of Bill's powers? He can just eat entire universes and then whatever he consumes becomes a part of him? Or maybe it's something else...

Maybe if we looked at this less literally and consider the previous hints of Bill having a dissociative disorder then perhaps what is going on is that Bill is introjecting these people.

Maybe whenever he enters somebody's mind, some piece of them remains...

I would love to speculate more on this... But this is the only mention of it in the entire book!

At this point, I begin to reflect on the words at the beginning. Maybe it was true that the book was changing itself to give me what I wanted. Little hints of plurality to keep me reading, to ensnare me in its vicious trap and ultimately drive me to madness.

And the worst part was, I was falling into it anyway. Because I had to know, even if this was a trap, I was in it to the very end. My thirst for knowledge and understanding unquenchable.

Even if I knew I should stop here, there was no going back.

Stanford Pines, Bill's Perfect Host

At last, beyond all of the misdirects that were put in my way, I arrived at the reason that I started on this journey.

Stanford Pines.

I need to say that when I started this journey, planning to delve into what the plurality of Bill and Ford might be like, I never imagined that it would be handled so... Beautifully.

I mean that genuinely!

I love the relationship of these two characters in the book!

They are both very out of place in their own ways. Both are aware of things in their world that are denied by others, leaving them ridiculed and ostracized for it. They manage to form a genuine friendship. Even if Bill was using Stanford the whole time to achieve his Weirdmageddon.

The two compliment each other surprisingly well. Bill provides Stanford with a friend who can get him out of his comfort zone, which is something that I think Stanford really needed.

There's a really fun part of the book where Bill just gets Stanford mind-drunk, which is apparently something he can do.

Bill fills a role in Stanford's life that nobody had since he lost contact with his brother. While Stanford had friend in with Fiddleford, his lab partner, and we do get to see parts of that friendship in the book, they are more like work acquaintances.

Alas, it wasn't meant to be. Because in the end, Bill is still an evil demon who was bent on bringing about the Weirdmageddon and was manipulating Ford the whole time.

And when Stanford found out, he tried to shut Bill out. This led to Bill trying to communicate through sticky notes to get Ford to stop ignoring him. He would front in the body at night while Ford slept, and they carried on a conversation through these sticky notes.

Wait... Sticky notes?

This is such an interesting choice for the character! Especially after so many hints of Bill Cipher having some sort of dissociative disorder.

Why?

Because sticky notes are an actual method that real DID systems use to communicate with their alters, as seen in this post from the NAMI (National Alliance on Mental Illness) website.

It's fascinating how, if you were to try to depict how headmates with strong dissociative barriers might communicate, this is one of the ways you would want to do that!

Is this coincidental? Maybe. But the talk of dissociation earlier suggests the author also has at least some basic knowledge of dissociation and how it works. And, perhaps, plurality as well?

Overall, this whole section with Bill and Ford was fantastic, and it was well-worth the read for that on its own.

The End?

I suppose this is the end. I found what I wanted. I got the content I was after. A cool plural story of a guy and his headmate from another dimension who wants to take over the world.

Through all the strange distractions and hints of Bill himself having headmates that seemingly went nowhere, I got more plurality in the book than I expected.

And yet, as I turn the final page of the book, I feel unsatisfied. Unsettled.

"Is that it?" I think to myself.

This is Gravity Falls, a show built on mysteries, and looking deeper than the surface. Surely there has to be more. Right?

What if... all the plurality in this book, is obscuring something deeper? Or maybe hinting at something deeper...

And then... I see it!

After the final page, I come to the About the Author section.

Which means it's time to talk about...

The Plurality of... Bill Cipher Alex Hirsch

Yes, I am going there!

In the beginning, I promised that this post will require me to break a rule I've held sacred through these posts.

That rule... is to never speculate on the plurality of the author.

But, Alex Hirsch, at least in a fictional sense, hasn't exactly shied away from the idea of being "possessed" by Bill. This dates back at least a decade, with him making Tweets like this one.

"Bill Cipher" even did an AMA on Reddit through Alex, playing it off as Bill possessing Hirsch while he slept.

It's a pretty open secret in the Gravity Falls community that Alex Hirsch is "possessed" by Bill. At least in some meta-fiction way that may not be canon to Gravity Falls but isn't quite real either.

And were my analysis to stop here, I wouldn't really be saying anything new or valuable. A lot of this was covered by MatPat on Film Theory.

But there's something I want to go back to that confuses me in this book.

That Bill Cipher... is an idea?

Let's bring this full circle, back to the beginning of the book where Bill mentions that he's imaginary and describes himself as an idea.

These are such weird lines because Bill didn't seem to have originated from people's minds within the narrative of Gravity Falls.

His story is of being a being from a literal flat world. So why then, does he describe himself as an idea? Why does he describe himself as imaginary???

Bill Cipher as Alex Hirsch's Tulpa

While Bill being an idea doesn't make sense if he's speaking as a being from a 2-dimensional world that's real to him, it does make sense if we consider that the Bill talking to us, who wrote the Book of Bill, is a tulpa sharing the body of its creator.

Before going on though, we need to answer an important question. What is a tulpa? The r/tulpas subreddit gives its own answer to this in its FAQ.

The simplest way to describe a tulpa is simply another person who was created intentionally/unintentionally through repeated interaction and shares a body and mind with their creator. A more complicated definition can go as follows: A tulpa is believed to be an autonomous consciousness coinhabiting a brain with their creator, often with a form of their creator's initial choice and design. A tulpa is entirely sentient and in control of their opinions, feelings, form and movement. They are willingly created via a number of techniques to act as companions, muses, and advisers. Tulpa forms can either be visualized in the mind's eye, or, with practice, seen as a hallucinatory figure using a technique called imposition.

And let's stop there on the line about being created as muses, because this is something that's found repeated throughout both The Book of Bill and Journal 3, with Stanford referring to Bill as his "muse."

It's a curious term that doesn't appear in the show, but was added to the lore in these two supplemental books.

The FAQ goes on to explain that while tulpas are often considered to be intentionally created, there are also accidental tulpas that can arise through imaginary friends or from writing characters.

Is it possible to accidentally make a tulpa? Yes - many people join the community after realizing they have had tulpas all their lives, but without knowing what they were called. These "accidental" tulpas often arise from imaginary friends and writing/roleplay characters.

On the point of roleplay characters, something I also haven't mentioned yet is that Alex Hirsch didn't just write the character of Bill Cipher. He WAS Bill Cipher. In the show, Bill is one of the characters Hirsch voices along with Grunkle Stan and Soos.

Writing tulpas and how they come about are discussed a bit more below:

Is this a new phenomena? No, it's a practice that goes back in recorded history at least as far as the Greek philosophers. The present name of the phenomenon is derived from the word used by Tibetan monks in the early 20th century. There's also evidence to suggest dedicated prayer can lead to the development of 'religious tulpas' in the minds of the particularly devout, and on the secular end, writing techniques similar to tulpa development techniques can and have resulted in writers creating accidental tulpas from their characters. Having a tulpa is nothing new, although it's gone by many names throughout the course of history and does so even today. However, we believe we are one of the first groups to address this practice as a psychological phenomena rather than a magical, occult or divine experience.

Tulpamancy and Attention

There was another passage from the book that I found noteworthy.

At the end, Stanford describes what truly sustains Bill isn't power, but attention, which Stanford describes as Bill's "lifeblood."

It's even underlined for emphasis.

Why is this important? Well first, this line goes back to the weird lines earlier suggesting Bill is an idea.

But more importantly, feeding on attention is something which is actually a pretty popular philosophy in tulpamancy. That tulpas feed on and are sustained by the attention of their hosts.

How do I give my tulpa energy? Tulpas are sustained by attention, and energy is a convenient metaphor for this. So, you can give your tulpa energy by interacting with them. It is also possible, through no shortage of work and time on the part of host and tulpa alike, for a tulpa to grow beyond this need and to learn how to sustain themselves.

How much attention/energy/interaction does my tulpa need? During the creation process you should aim to interact with your tulpa daily, anywhere from a few minutes up to a few hours, and narrating to them as and when you can. After they're fully vocal and active, the bare minimum is just acknowledging their existence, but spending time talking to them and interacting with them is very much the point of bringing them into existence. Just don't ignore them, and you'll both be fine.

On Parallels in Writing

Adding another layer, it's likely that Stanford Pines is at least partially based on Alex Hirsch himself.

One point of trivia is that Alex Hirsch has a twin sister, and Gravity Falls was inspired by vacations they would take as children. Dipper and Mabel being based on Alex and his sister is pretty well-known. But towards the end of season 2, it's revealed that their Grunkle Stan is a twin himself, with his brother being Stanford Pines, the author of the journals.

During this part of the story, it starts creating a parallel between the relationships of the younger and older twins, with Dipper (who is based on Alex) bonding with Stanford over how much they have in common. Both are nerds who are into writing and science and uncovering the mysteries of the world. Both are a bit socially awkward as well.

And while not much attention is drawn to this particular connection, both had experiences of making deals with Bill that let Bill takeover their bodies at different points.

Based on the parallels between Dipper and Stanford, one might speculate that Alex based Dipper on his younger self, while Stanford was loosely based on himself as an adult.

The personalities of these two characters are also the most likely to create a tulpa based on the psychological profiles of most tulpamancers.

In 2016, Dr. Samuel Veissiere, a psychiatry professor at McGill University, found the following in his study of tulpamancers:

From coding of qualitative interviews collected in large surveys, the most common tulpamancer profile to emerge is one of a highly cerebral, imaginative, highly articulate, upper-middle class, formally educated person with many consistently pursued interests, talents, and hobbies, but limited channels of physical social interaction. Typical tulpamancers are confident about their talents, but are quite modest and socially shy. They possess – or have cultivated – a high propensity for concentration, absorption, hypnotisability, and non-psychotic sensory hallucinations.

The psychological profile of tulpamancers fits both Dipper and Stanford to a t. And many of these same traits could just as easily be true for Alex Hirsch if these characters were meant to be stand-ins for himself.

Is Alex Hirsch trying to tell us that he's plural?

In the end, this is just a theory. And it's one that I feel nervous making because plurality is so deep and personal. That's why I've avoided speculating on the plurality authors in the past. Even when the writing feels so true to the plural experience that it's hard to imagine that someone who isn't plural wrote it.

So why am I making an exception with this one?

Well, in this particular case, I think that the breadcrumbs are being left intentionally, and if he is plural, then he expects somebody to follow them. I'm not worried that I would be outing somebody who didn't want others to find out.

With Alex Hirsch's love of codes and clues and mysteries, if he were plural, I have to imagine that the hints weren't accidental and he would be wondering if anybody would follow them.

And if I am completely off base and he's not plural, I think that he would still appreciate the theorizing anyway. 🤷‍♀️

But if these are intentional clues that were left behind to hint at a real life plurality, one might ask why.

Why would he want people to know about it, and hint at it in this way?

Well, I think the Book of Bill might have an answer to that too.

Shame is a powerful emotion. But it grows in the dark. The more I've tried to hide my past with Bill, the more hold it's had over me.

Perhaps this line is meant to reflect Alex Hirsch's own feelings. Because many plural systems have felt this same way about their plurality, having hide their relationships to their headmates.

The actual end now

Finally, we come to the real ending of this.

This is, again, just a theory. I don't want anyone taking it as fact. I admit that I could be completely wrong about everything that I've said here.

But if nothing else, it's at least fun to imagine that Alex Hirsch does have a Bill Cipher tulpa in his head that has been acting as his muse this whole time. And it would give a new meaning to the gag of the Weirdmageddon intro saying Gravity Falls was "created by Bill Cipher" all those years ago.

Thanks for reading, and if you have your own muse that you think might be more than a simple muse, be sure to read my guide on how to know if your imaginary friend is sentient.

And if you like this post and want to see more like it, you may want to check out The Plurality of… Avatar: The Last Airbender or The Plurality of… IF

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haechoxo · 4 months ago

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[10:35 am]

haechan's apartment was a mess. empty takeout containers littered the coffee table, clothes were strewn across the floor, and the air was thick with the scent of stale beer. he hadn’t expected any visitors, let alone you.

he had spent the morning trying to shake off the anxiety from his late-night confession, his mind replaying every word he had said to you. he was expecting a phone call, dreading and hoping for it all at once. when a knock echoed through the cluttered apartment, his heart leaped into his throat.

he stumbled to the door, tripping over a pair of sneakers on his way. swinging it open, he was met with the sight of you standing there, looking as unsure as he felt.

“i—” you started, then faltered, your rehearsed words suddenly elusive. “i said i’d call, but i thought... maybe we should talk in person.”

he stepped aside, motioning for you to come in. “uh, yeah, yeah. come in. sorry about the mess.”

you walked into his apartment, glancing around. it was a mess–but it was so very haechan. he looked at you, clearly embarrassed, scratching the back of his head and blushing furiously.

“i, um, wasn’t expecting company,” he admitted, trying to tidy up a bit.

“n-no, it’s okay, i didn’t give you a warning…” you were just as shy as him right now. “i think i’ve seen worse anyway.” you giggle, easing the tension a bit.

“can i get you something?” he asked, his voice awkward and hesitant. “water, coffee?”

you shook your head, mumbling a soft ‘no thanks’, as you took a seat on the couch.

haechan sat down across from you, the silence between you heavy. you took a deep breath, finally getting to the point, “i thought about what you said last night.”

he perks up in his seat a bit, eyes flickering with hope, “y-yeah?”

“i… i want to make it clear first, we can’t just—forget any of it happened,” he deflates, “the hookups, the dates that weren’t dates, our fights too.”

“r-right…” he hopes you can’t see that he’s about to cry again.

“but, we were friends before all of that. you were my best friend… a-and i don’t want to lose that either.”

“i don’t want to lose you either i–” he sighs, frustrated with himself, “i let things get so far out of hand, i won’t ever stop making it up to you for as long as you let me, y/n.”

your cheeks tinge with a blush at his words, “yeah you were stupid,” he genuinely laughs at this, “but i probably shouldn’t have agreed to your ‘proposal’ the first time it happened, i told myself it would be a one time thing, but then one turned into two, and two turned into three years. i agreed because i trusted you, because i liked you.”

haechan’s eyes widen, “liked?”

“well—i still do, i mean why else would we be here, but that’s besides the point!” you quickly try to avert the topic from your silly schoolgirl crush.

“if you’re serious about me, as you say, i can forgive you. if we start over.”

“start over?” seriously, how dense can he be.

“no more hookups, hyuck.” you deadpanned

“oh! right, of course, so… you mean, we can go out on a real date, for real?” you’d laugh at how endearing it sounded if he wasn’t so serious.

some things don’t change.

“well—no.”

“oh.”

“i wanna just… go back to being friends—for now.” you stated softly.

“yeah… yeah that makes sense.” he looks like a kicked puppy, you could almost laugh.

“it’s not forever, hyuck,” a breathy laugh leaves your lips, “just until things are back to normal, when we– heal? i guess, from what happened these past few weeks.”

he nods, “so… just friends?”

“just friends.”

haechan looks visibly relieved, content with the current status of your relationship with him, he wouldn’t mind you keeping him at arms length, so long as you were keeping him at all.

“so... can you tell renjun to unblock me on twitter now?”

sigh.

previous - next

a/n ; APOLOGIES FOR THE LATE UPDATE💔,, i was unfortunately busy yesterday and couldnt stay locked up in my room 😔 and writing a “reconciliation” type of scene was so much more difficult than the angst… like this was a genuine challenge for me… BUT… only one more chapter after this…😰 im thinking of all the little bonus text chapters and silly blurbs i can make but only if u guys would wanna see those so lmk!! ik this isnt the best, i feel like i am better suited for angst, but lmk what u think! advice is always appreciated! xoxo jelly

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evil-lovergirl · 2 months ago

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WRITE A RENTAL AU WITH FLORIAN AND MY LIFE IS YOURS😈😈😈

! short nsfw fic . . . florian brand , fire investigator . . . >> RENT-A-PARTNER AU! >> includes a 'rented' reader, florian attempts to tempt reader out of being a rental, gets pegged stupid instead, reader is not depicted as a 'good' person, pegging [char. receiving], whiny florian, one-sided love (char. > reader), implied one-night stand, no aftercare, modern au, most likely ooc, lowercase intended

it wasn't meant to come to this, florian reminds himself as he watches you slowly climb on top of him, feeling his heart beat faster, unsure if it was from the impending thrill or something else.

he was just curious, he watches you undo his pants and boxers, now between his legs as he feels your hands make their way to his hips, squeezing tightly enough to make him giggle and shift in your grip.

but it doesn't mean he wants to let you go, afterall, nobody else has ever made him feel so excited when simply putting lube on, your fingers making sure to get it all as deep as possible inside of him, a couple of breathy moans escaping him as you prepped him.

he remembers the first time he rented you out. he thought it was funny - people buying out temporary lovers. he's stumbled across your profile by accident ; truly, he really was just curious, curious enough to rent you out for one simple day. why had you so many good reviews? why were you so desired? such a high price for that first date, but maybe it was worth it.

however, he doesn't really care now. he saw your pretty little face, that sweet voice of yours, and he was smitten. you put up with his eccentricity - even if it was in the name of money - better than anyone else he's ever met.

how could he not love it when you pull your fingers out of him, leaving him to whine at the emptiness before pressing the tip of your strap against his hole that tightened around nothing?

"you know, y-you- haah - could d-do this every- nnghh - day to m-me," he pants out as you huff at his words. nothing new to you, of course.

"let's not fantasize about such things now, doll." you chastise, not giving him a word before slamming your hips into his, his eyes immediately rolling back as he tensed for a moment.

"ngh! g-give me a- haah - warning first, why don't y-you?"

"i thought you liked the surprise?" you muse as your hands grip his waist tight enough to leave red marks in their wake before you slowly begin to move the strap insid of him.

"you know me sooo well..." he mumbled with a silly grin as his arms reached out to loops around your neck, ankles locking behind your back.

"maybe because you rent me out too much," your thrusts become a bit rougher, causing him to bite his bottom lip and let out a huff from his nose.

"don't s-say that, you know, you l-like- mm.. this as much a-as i do," his eyes fluttered shut for a moment from the feeling of your strap buried so deeply inside of him, drool dripping out his mouth as he parted his lips, "you l-love me, don't you?"

"you know what my answer is to that," your thrusts grow rougher, tip of the strag hitting his prostate, causing his back to arch off the mattress and a long mewl to escape him as you continued to pound into his sensitive spot.

"y-you're shooo mean... you wouldn't - ah, ah - choose meee?"

"i'd choose your money," you tease as you continue to pound into him, rougher and rougher until he clawed at your back and shoulders, whining as he was close to his climax.

"youu.. a-ahh, nnmmf... too good," he melwed, drool freely falling down his chin before he tightened his legs around your back, grinding himself down onto the strap as he let out a loud and long moan, cumming all over his own abdomen.

"yeah, i can see." you mumble in amusement, hands letting go of his waist rather swiftly after his release. his arms loosen around your neck before he moved one hand to hold onto your forearm.

"y-you.. gonna clean me.. up?"

a cruel smile grew onto your lips.

"why would i? i'm not your lover."

#evil-lovergirl #evil-writes #🎀 LOVERGIRL'S RENTAL!#@lovers-quarrel #dom reader #sub idv #idv x reader #sub character #sub florian brand #sub florian #florian brand #florian brand x reader #florian x reader #dom gn reader #cross posted on wattpad

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quinngefail · 3 months ago

Text

Comic and short story below the cut !! It ended up being longer than anticipated so. Under the cut it goes 😤

First time posting a piece of writing for these two as well..., I hope you enjoy :)

"May I take your coat, sir?"

It was a question asked through a goofy smile, and a 'fancy' tone that carried more than just a little bit of exaggeration; both very deliberate on Adam's part. It's not that he didn't like performing these sorts of 'cheesy' romantic gestures, but he couldn't exactly ignore the way a particular sort of embarrassment would take hold of him during said gestures... Embarrassment that sat within him, screaming about how 'damn corny' he was acting right now. So, this was his working method of combating those less than pleasant feelings: play up the theatrics, put on a silly voice, make it into a whole bit. Things like that.

It really only worked so well. But, it was better than nothing.

However, and far more importantly, these were romantic gestures for Lawrence. And Adam was more than willing to put up with his bouts of trivial embarrassment for Lawrence... A fact that was further solidified as an appreciative smile spread across the older man's face, and he began to remove his coat. Adam moved closer to help, of course, proper gentleman he was, and all that- and in no time at all, the coat was hanging in his grip.

"So courteous," Lawrence lightly teased, still wearing that heart-melting smile of his, as he turned to face Adam.

"Yeah, well, maybe I'm just doing so you feel compelled to make me something extra good for dinner tonight." Adam shot back, holding his eyes shut as a cocky grin spread across his face.

Lawrence gave a scoff, and a playful roll of his eyes. "And here I am, the fool who falls for it every single time." He holds his feigned look of utter defeat for a few moments longer, before returning to a genuine smile. He then leans in, placing a small kiss on his partner's forehead. "I'll go see what I can do for us." He murmurs, breaking away and turning to the direction of the kitchen.

Adam watches him disappear around the corner, unable to keep anything but adoration in his face. After Lawrence is out of sight, he turns his attention back to the coat in his hands. Without really even consciously deciding to do so, he gives it a few shakes as he moves to face the nearby hangers.

But then, there's a dull thud as something hits the ground. Adam’s gaze turns to the source, easily locating Lawrence’s fallen wallet.

Mild frustration brewing, Adam folds the coat over his left arm before bending over to snatch up the wallet. Returning to his full height, he absentmindedly flips the wallet over, intending to close and put it back in the coat's inner pocket.

And that was indeed the plan, but...

...

He really doesn't know how long he stands there, just staring at what was before him. He doesn't even notice Lawrence reappearing, poking out from behind the wall.

Heart racing, Lawrence approaches as fast as he can, putting his free hand on Adam's shoulder, trying to figure out what was going on, what was causing such a distressing reaction from the man he cared so deeply for-

But it doesn't take much detective work at all to put two and two together, as his eyes fall to what was in Adam's hand.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Lawrence leans back a bit. "Shit, I'm sorry, I kept meaning to show that to you-" he mutters before leaning forward, eyes open once more. He holds out a concerned hand, unsure now if he should or shouldn't offer his touch in this moment. "Look, um- I should have asked you about it first, and if it makes you uncomfortable, or if it feels like I'm moving things along too quickly, I can take it out-"

"N-no, no- it's not that," Adam interrupts him, giving a quick wipe to his eyes. "It's fine, really- it's just... I don't know, I guess I just never thought I'd ever be in anyone's wallet, is all," he ends with a small shrug and a diminished voice, his gaze falling away from Lawrence's... A silence hanging in the air.

"Well," Lawrence speaks, "I didn't just put it in there for no reason," he smiles gently, moving to stand behind Adam, leaving little distance between their bodies as he fondly looks down at the picture. "It's a photo that I really, truly love, just like I really, truly love you. And I'm happy to have it with me, just like I'm happy to have you with me."

As has often been the case lately, Adam doesn't know what to say. He stares at the photo for a little while longer, before finally giving a small, genuine "thank you,"

Lawrence hums in response. "Of course,"

They remain like this, just existing together... Letting their words sink in, and letting this moment linger.

"...I don't know if this picture really shows my good side, though." Adam remarks, being the first to break the silence, as was fully expected- a wry little smile cracking.

"And there he is," Lawrence gives another playful roll of his eyes, shaking his head a bit.

"No, seriously- this is what you want to carry around with you? This picture of you, sitting next to this ugly ass gremlin, who could look so much better if you just captured his good side?"

"I'm going back to the kitchen now," Lawrence pulls away, continuing to shake his head as he walks off.

"Good- because we do not want to see what happens if we feed my ass after midnight," Adam replies with a grin, sliding the wallet back into the coat pocket, finally hanging it up. "Really, Lawrence- I can go get my camera right now and we can fix this horrific situation- you can even wear that tie of yours, and I won't complain... Much,"

With that, he follows after Lawrence... Fully prepared to keep this going for a few hours longer at least.

And really, neither of them would have wanted it any other way.

#digital #writing #saw #sawposting #saw franchise #sawtism #saw 2004 #chainshipping #lawrence gordon #adam faulkner stanheight #adam stanheight #diana gordon #saw fanart #saw fanfic #comic

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sailoryooons · 1 year ago

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hiiii :3 i’m a VERY silent reader (i’m terrified of my irls finding me on this god forsaken app) but i just love your writings so much so i had to participate in the agust event!!!!

childhood bffs yoongi x reader smut where they’re definitely probably too close, way closer than bffs should be anyways. reader goes to yoongi one night complaining bc no matter what she does, she just can’t cum! good thing yoongi’s actions speak louder than words <3

pls pls pls get totally creative w this, i love ur brain sm and i love seeing what you come up with!!!

❀ Pairing: Yoongi x f. reader

❀ Summary: Yoongi has always been your closest friend, but it’s always been a little closer than everyone else. He takes it one step further, offering to address a silly little problem for you.

❀ Word Count: 2,320

❀ Genre: Friends to something more, PWP

❀ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

❀ Warnings: Explicit language, some feelings of insecurity but like barely, talking about orgasm struggles, explicit sexual content including vaginal fingering, nipple stimulation, a hint of choking, a lot of sucking on neck/throat, nipple play, mostly reader getting finger blasted sdfnodsifgj, reader is completely naked and Yoongi is still clothed, mentions of oral (f. receiving), a little bit of cum eating

❀ Published: August 23, 2022

❀ A/N: Okay so this was supposed to be posted way earlier than 10:30 PM EST but I completely forgot I had this sitting and waiting to post (it was a long day) but HERE IT IS!!! I love the idea of Yoongi casually just being like yeah I’ll get you to come or whatever, let’s do it sdfjdfogijdfrgi thank you so much for being a reader and requesting something - silent or talkative reader, I'm just happy you're here and that you enjoy my writing! Thank you for being here.

❀ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

| Masterlist | Ask | Hali’s Happy Agust |

“You what?” You ask Yoongi, breath shaky. “Don’t play around like that, it’s not very funny.”

It’s rare that you can’t tell if Yoongi is making a joke or not. Though his humor is quiet like the night sky outside and soft like the sweater he’s draped in, you know Yoongi. Know him well enough to detect the subtle notes of a joke in his hushed words, know to listen amid the loud voices of your friends for a quiet jest, spoken softly just for you.

Now, though, you’re a little unsure.

Everyone has said for years that your friendship with Yoongi is too friendly. You vehemently disagree: affection between friends should be encouraged and treasured. Being able to platonically hold hands, share beds, and offer physical affection isn’t something reserved for lovers. You adamantly believe in this - always have.

But… it is different with Yoongi. You think about how you always hold Taehyung’s hand, how you let him curl into your side during movies, or how he nests in your bed when he grows too tired for parties. Taehyung is particularly affectionate, but it does feel different.

“Let me make you cum,” Yoongi repeats, as though he’s reflecting on the weather outside. He’s on his knees on the couch next to you, hands resting in his lap. “No one should have to go through their adult life without partners making them cum.”

You roll your eyes. “Plenty of people can’t cum for a number of reasons, Yoongi.”

“Okay, that’s fair. Let me try anyway.”

“Why do you care?”

He tilts his head. “Because you’re you. And I’m good at making people cum. It feels like an obvious answer.”

“We’re best friends.”

“My point exactly. Look, if I’ve made you uncomfortable, I’m sorry, I-”

You shake your head and wave him off. “No, I just. Didn’t expect the offer and it made me nervous.”

“Nervous how?”

Letting out a long exhale, you rest your head on the back of the couch and look up at the ceiling. Your warm mug of tea is abandoned and the drama on the TV plays on, silent in the background. You chew the inside of your cheek, wondering how to string your words together.

With anyone else, you’d feel embarrassed or nervous. With Yoongi, your anxiety is significantly less. Even if you speak the words on your mind, you’re sure it won’t change things. You’ve been through your fair share of oversharing, never shamed, never turned away.

It’s how you started this conversation about your sex life in the first place.

So you decide to be honest.

“Nervous like, I’m into it and I want to try it out, but I don’t want it to make our dynamic weird.”

“It’s not weird for me if it’s not weird for you. I’m sorry I offered so bluntly.”

Your lips twitch and you reach out, taking his hand in yours. Yoongi has beautiful hands. Long fingers with knobby knuckles, blunt nails and gentle fingertips, calloused palms. You’ve mapped the structure of his palm hundreds of times, know the shapes of the lines on them, and watched a palm reader chart the stars on them.

Yoongi’s hands are where you’re safest.

“Don’t apologize, you didn’t violate a boundary.” His mouth is soft when he smiles, his eyes are dark when he watches you. He’s so pretty. A soft thing with round cheeks, kind eyes, and gentle smiles. Quiet. Confident. “You really wanna try?”

Yoongi’s grin turns feral. “I do.”

“Alright.”

It starts with him leading you to your room, hand holding yours gently. It starts with a shy smile and hungry eyes, Yoongi watching you as you sit on the edge of your bed, unsure and giving him a questioning gaze. His hands are confident when he makes you move backward, shuffling until you’re in the middle of your bed on your back.

Yoongi joins you on the bed, kneeling next to you. He watches as he reaches out, brushing his fingertips over your thigh. His touch is featherlight, making you shiver. He doesn’t do anything but this at first, tracing the shape of your clothed hip, up the sides of your rips, under the curve of your breast.

Your breath catches, fixated on Yoongi as he outlines your curves. His eyes flicker to your face, drinking in your expression when he draws his fingers over the swell of your tits and over your nipple. The stimulation is barely there but it spikes. You inhale sharply and he smirks as he keeps going, brushing over your throat, and under your jaw, feeling your pulse.

“Pretty,” he murmurs. He takes you by the chin, thumb pulling at your bottom lip. “What do you like?”

It’s hard to answer. Yoongi’s hand leaves your mouth and trails back down to your neck. He wraps his fingers around your throat but doesn’t squeeze. It’s a barely-there ghost of a grip and he raises his eyebrow. You nod, unable to string together an answer. He squeezes gently before continuing his exploration downward again.

Your tongue is heavy in your mouth. This Yoongi is one you’ve never experienced. He’s quiet as always, but the silence is heavier. Pointed. He bites his bottom lip a little as he passes your stomach and dips between your legs, pressing against your clothed cunt.

“Yeah?” he asks when your hips twice.

You feel heat lick through you, pooling between your legs. Your fingers twist in the sheets in anticipation. Heat pulses from your pussy, panties getting damp and Yoongi’s has barely touched you. It’s the way he looks at you, the way he presses his thumb against your swelling clit.

“Yeah,” you breathe, voice watery. “I’m pretty into it.”

“I can tell,” he teases. He leans down, keeping one hand between your legs, gently applying pressure and circling his fingers as his lips search for yours. “You’re already wet, huh?”

Yoongi doesn’t let you answer. His lips capture yours and you sigh into his mouth, hands coming up automatically to wrap around his neck. It feels so natural. His hair is soft between your fingers and his mouth is warm, tasting faintly of the peppermint tea he drank earlier.

Kissing Yoongi is heady. He controls the kiss, keeping the pace slow as if he’s savoring you. Your thighs close around his hand as he presses through your shorts harder. When he introduces his tongue to your mouth, it takes your breath away.

Breaking the kiss, Yoongi mouths at your jaw. You arch into him, running your hands down his chest, feeling the warm skin beneath his sweater. One of your hands goes to his wrist pressed into the mattress by your head, holding onto him, the other goes to his hand between your legs, laying your fingers on his, pressing.

He hums, the buzz of his mouth against the underside of your jaw maddening. Together, you peel your shorts down your legs. Yoongi shuffles closer to you, your thigh pressed against his as he continues to kneel next to you, heat radiating from his body.

Yoongi traces the trim of your panties. You watch him, your mouth parted as you breathe unsteadily. He is solely focused on you. You can feel the slick sticking to the silk, watching as he drags a finger near your hip, his touch tantalizing.

Maybe this is what you were missing. Yoongi takes his time, dragging out the feeling of his hands on you. Works you up as he removes your shirt and bra next. You feel drunk on him already, nipples pebbling in the cold room. His nails scratch lightly up your stomach to your chest. He smirks as he traces slow, lazy circles around your nipples, eyes glancing up to watch your expression.

“Why?” you ask, hissing at the light stimulation. You want more.

“No one is in a rush,” he mutters. His voice is low, raspy. “Are you?”

When you shake your head, he smiles, pinching a nipple between two fingers. A curse drips from your mouth and your hips buck. You close your eyes, letting Yoongi tweak one nipple then the other, letting him guide you through. The stimulation feels good - otherworldly, even, when he bends down and flicks the tip of his tongue over one playfully.

“No,” you sigh. “Not in a rush.”

His teeth scrape your sensitive bud and your head rolls back, pushing into the mattress. “Good. Relax, let me take care of you.”

Tension melts out of your body. You didn’t realize you were so tense until he pointed it out. You let yourself sink into the feeling of Yoongi sucking gently on the peak of your right nipple while his thumb brushes back and forth over the other. The stimulation feels good, your head lolling to the side as you breath shakily.

Yoongi is slow. He takes his time running his tongue across your chest, air cooling is spit as he goes. You squeeze your thighs together, feeling your cunt throb for attention. He notices, nipping his way back up to your neck as he slides a hand down between your legs, pressing your panties into your sticky folds.

“Fuck,” you sigh. He nuzzles your neck, tongue swipe over the sensitive spot of your throat. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this fucking wet.”

“Good.” His words are muffle as he sucks at your tender skin. You angle your head, giving him better access. It feels like the bed is spinning wildly, a compass lost in an electromagnetic field. “Tell me at any point if something doesn’t feel good or you want something else.”

“Okay.”

You open your eyes and smile. It’s so Yoongi to make sure he asks what you want. So Yoongi to remind you that he’s here for you. That as he slips his hand under the waistband of your underwear, he’s determined to provide for you. To get you off.

A moan slips out of your mouth when it comes into contact with your dripping cunt. He avoids touching your clit directly, fingers spreading your folds as he teases your hole experimentally. It feels good - whether it’s because it’s Yoongi or because you’re already worked up, it doesn’t matter.

Yoongi circles around your clit deftly a few times, making your hips wiggle. A tingle settles in your stomach, fingers twisting in the sheets.

When he retracts his hand, you open your eyes. He watches you steadily lifting his fingers to pop them between pink lips and oh. He hums around his fingers, making a show of rolling his tongue around them, tasting your juices. He slides them slowly out of his mouth, hypnotizing you.

“Mmm.” He grins and reaches to slide your underwear off. “Can’t wait to eat you out. First, I’m gonna make you come.”

Never in your friendship would you have imagined Yoongi to be like this. It would be a lie to say you’d never thought what it might be like to have him like this, his hands peeling your underwear off. The scrap of the silk on your legs is heady, every part of your skin extra sensitive.

Lips parts, eyes fixed, you watch him toss the underwear to the side. He shuffles so that one knee rests against his leg, the other spread flat on the mattress for him. There is a split second where you feel vulnerable, spread open for him to see how much of a mess you are at the barely stimulation. You start to close your leg but Yoongi shakes his head, hand brushing down your inner thigh.

Slowly, Yoongi drags a finger up your slit to your entrance, massaging lightly with his finger before sinking in slowly. You let out a long breath, your walls clenching around his finger. It doesn’t provide a lot of stretch, but it feels good, the pad of his pointer stroking your inner wall.

At first, Yoongi is slow. Familiarizing himself with your warm, wet heat. He picks up the pace then, stroking deeply, ensuring to push up against that soft spot inside of you. It drives you crazy. Crazier, still, when he leans down and attaches his mouth to yours, tongues tangling as he fingers you leisurely.

“Fuck,” Yoongi mutters against your mouth. “You’ve got a wet little cunt.”

“Not usually,” you admit. You card your fingers through his hair, pulling at the ends a little. Your entire body is radiating with heat, sweat slicking your skin. “Fuck, it feels good. Doesn’t usually.”

“No?” he sucks harshly at your jaw and your eyes flutter shut.

“No. Usually they jack hammer their fingers into my pussy.”

His laugh is hot on your skin. “Nah, just gotta find the spot.”

Yoongi has found the spot. Makes it ten times better when he adds another finger, giving you something more substantial to grip on. Your cunt grips his fingers like a vice, slick sounds filling the room. He adds his thumb to the mix, pressing down on your clit. You gasp his name, hips bucking against his hand, dripping into his palm.

“Fuck yeah,” he grunts. “Fuck yourself onto my hand the way you like.”

Together, you work yourself up to the edge. Yoongi doesn’t pause for a moment, doesn’t complain that his wrist is tired, doesn’t stop tonguing your sensitive spot on your neck until you’re clinging to him, coming around his fingers in a wet, messy squelch.

You shake as he thrusts his fingers a few more times, the slopping sound of his palms smacking your pussy intoxicating. You feel like liquid, blurry at the edges and warm.

“Holy shit,” you sigh. Yoongi pulls his fingers from your hole and you immediately squirm, hating the empty feeling. “That was just from your fingers?”

“Uh huh.” You watch as he licks his fingers again, grinning around them. Your stomach flips, cunt still leaking, begging for more. “Now watch what happens when I eat this pussy.”

#yoongi smut #suga smut #bts smut #min yoongi smut #yoongi fic #suga fic #min yoongi fic #bts fic #yoongi fanfic #suga fanfic #yoongix you #suga x you #yoongi x reader #suga x reader #minors dni #minors do not interact

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lyneira · 2 years ago

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♡ I heard that 😳👂♡

-> what they would do after overhearing you admit your crush on them

lyneira's 1.2k milestone event

Will come out of hiding to tell you they love you too

Cater, Kalim, Malleus, Rook, Floyd, Neige, Che'nya

They'd be too excited knowing that you feel the same way to just keep quiet. So he'd pop-out, declaring his own love for you and would pull you into his warm embrace, but ngl you'd probably be frozen like, 'what just happened?' , because this would all happen so fast, lightning speed I'm tellin' ya.

They've been listening in on you this whole time, turns out that they love you back, they're hugging you right now, and what's this? With the shy look on their face and the way their face was inching closer to yours, were they now leaning in to kiss you?! It'll all be like a fever dream, but fortunately for you, you knew it was real when you closed the gap between your lips and his and melt in his sweet kiss

They end up getting themselves caught

Idia, Ace, Riddle, Epel, Deuce, Sebek

"WHAT?!", he'd fall out of his hiding-spot and your heart nearly jumps out of your chest when you see him.

The unsure look you now have on your face has him nervous as heck; He didn't mean to give you a negative impression by his reaction. He was just too shocked and excited at the same time to contain himself. He needs to say something quick before making things even more awkward.

So he'll make it clear to you that he likes you back, though a bit shy about it. "Well, y'know... I uh- I love you too..!"

Shoot a tender smile at him in that moment and you've basically shot his heart. Even more so if you run over to him and give him a kiss lol

Won't confess to you in that moment, but will let you know you later

Jamil, Vil, Jade, Silver, Jack, Trey, Leona, Lilia

They'll tell you later, they don't want you to think they were being creepy or rude watching you admit your feelings aloud.

They'll wish they hadn't though, because now they're thinking about it the whole time before they get to see you again. You loved them back? Why didn't you just tell them sooner? Well hey, if you had told him sooner, he wouldn't have been able to see that precious moment of you confessing your feelings so candidly. It was adorable and his endearment towards you would only increase from replaying that memory in his head and he found himself smiling, 'they're just too cute'

So when they finally do see you, they're going to ask you,

"Where do you want to go?"

"??? Go? For what..?"

"I'm taking you on a date, silly"

And you're just like, "oh okay.... wait, wha-" 😳💘

"I love you too, y/n" 🤭❤️

Will hint towards it the next time they see you

Azul, Rollo, Ruggie

Like those who confess to you later, they don't confront you right away as to not seem rude. They'd also want some time to process this too.

They would hint towards it later because even though they've heard you say it aloud, they want you to say it directly to them. They seek reassurance that their ears weren't playing any tricks on them after all.

They'll attempt to give you hints by subtly flirting in order to make you break and finally confess. They'll compliment you, stand closely to you, lightly brush their hand on yours, things like that.

And they'll think they're close to achieving their goal. Though, in reality, seeing your adorable expressions in reaction to their tactics is making them crumble even faster that they'd be the ones who end up confessing first lmao.

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megumishotgf · 1 year ago

Text

satoru's pretty girl (sitting on his face!!) ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ

summary: satoru really wants you to sit on his face. but he has to help you work through your bodily insecurities first (chubby! reader). i got really carried away with this omg.

warnings + tags: body insecurities, chubby!fem!reader, body worship, oral (female receiving), y/n shows love by lowkey bullying satoru and he takes it because he’s cocky and whipped. not proofread i'm sorry it's three in the morning ive spent the last three hours writing this.

masterlist wc: 2.7k ༄ؘ

by nature, satoru is a very persuasive person. whether it’s him using his irresistible charm, or just the other party giving in after getting restlessly annoyed by his persistence, he always has a way of getting what he wants.

satoru has had the same request for the past few weeks now. he wants you - no, needs you - to sit on his face. he flails his arms dramatically, falling backwards onto the bed when you decline, whining about how he needs your pussy on his face or he’ll die.

of course, he respects your boundaries when it comes to sex. but satoru won’t drop this because he knows you want to try it. and he is certain that his eating out skills are not lacking (he’s good at everything, after all), so that’s not the issue either. every time satoru mentions it, you make excuses about being too heavy or your thighs being too big, and no matter how much bragging satoru does, you refuse to believe he can handle it.

“i’m too heavy, toru. i will suffocate you and you will die!”

“sent to heaven by my sexy girlfriend? you know i wouldn’t mind that. i welcome the idea, in fact…”

“as if you’re going to heaven!”

satoru has tried to coax you out of your insecurities. he likes that you’re a little bigger than other women. of course, it’s ultimately what’s on the inside that counts… but have you seen yourself? you’re the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen! to be able to sit in between your thick thighs is a privilege in satoru’s eyes. he sits in between them all the time - sometimes eating you out for insanely long periods until you’re squirming away, and other times just letting them act as his personal ear muffs. how on earth could you think they’re a bad thing?

“i’m wounded, baby. you know i’m the strongest for a reason, right?”

“that doesn’t matter, toru!” you cover your face in embarrassment. “your strength won’t matter when i’m depriving you of oxygen.”

before you can protest, satoru has his arms hooked under each of your legs, hoisting you up into the air. your hands instinctively grab his shoulders, thighs squeezing around his torso in shock. “satoru! what are you doing?”

“see, baby? i can pick you up just fine. you’re as light as a feather to me,” he replies in that signature flirtatious tone of his.

satoru lowers you back onto the bed, laughing at your flustered face as he hoovers over you. “so tell me truthfully baby. what’s so bad about having you sit on me?”

you’re silent for a few moments, unsure of how to articulate your feelings. you take a deep breath, hoping that it’ll calm your restless body and mind, but it comes out shaky and leaves a sinking feeling in your chest.

“i just… don’t want you to see me like that. you’ll see my tummy and my boobs will look weird… what if you realise i’m ugly, toru?”

satoru’s eyes soften as he hears your voice falter. he pulls away the hands covering your face to meet your tearful eyes. how could his baby think so lowly of herself?

“my poor baby. why didn’t you tell me sooner?” he coos, gently cupping your cheek and letting his thumb wipe away a few stray tears.

“it’s just silly. i wish i felt more comfortable being naked around you, i do. but you’re so perfect and strong and i don’t look like you at all!”

you’ve started to think it’d be easier if you looked differently. if you looked more like the women you see in magazines, maybe you’d feel more comfortable in your body around satoru. maybe if you worked out a bit more. you feel a little pathetic considering you’ve been together for so long, and you’re still covering yourself up as if you’ve been together for a mere few weeks.

satoru sits up, guiding you to sit on his lap. he lets his hands run up your sides soothingly as you open up to him about all the awful thoughts you have in your head. your usually-goofy boyfriend sits quietly and listens so intently as you pour your heart out to him, only interrupting when you start apologising profusely for your crying.

“hey, stop apologising. you’re my girl and i’m here to listen. i’d give you the world if it meant making you happy. now, i hope you’re comfy because i have a lot to say!”

you’re sniffling and your nose is runny but satoru still thinks you’re an angel that’s graced the world with your presence, especially when he hears you giggle quietly at him.

“i’ve never been attracted to someone like i am to you. i mean it, y/n. i knew it from the first time i saw you - whereas you found me annoying, may i remind you - i couldn’t believe how beautiful you were. i love everything about you - your face, your tummy, your arms. and your thighs? holy shit… that’s why i need the pretty things around my head, yeah? and your boobs too? baby, have i shown them anything but love?”

satoru knows how to make you laugh - it feels like a breath of fresh air, gradually filling your lungs and pushing that anxious physical discomfort out of your chest. you look at him with wide, glossy eyes but there’s a small smile on your lips. “you don’t think they’re sagging?”

“i don’t care if they are, angel. they’re a part of you, that’s what i care about. everything about you is so beautiful to me! don’t you see the effect you have on me? just seeing you makes my heart beat faster. i can’t focus on anything but you. even when you’re not around, all i think about is when i can see you next.. and don’t you see how hard i get for you?” he continues, smiling widely at your laughter. you slap at his chest playfully at the comment, but he just takes the same hand and kisses the back of it.

“you see how i feel about you? and honestly, baby, our bodies will change eventually. bodies are temporary. i won’t look like this forever either, you know! but i know you’ll still love me the same. even as we change i’ll still think you’re the most beautiful person ever because you’re still going to be you. i love you more than anything, remember?”

“yeah. i love you so much, toru,” you say, arms wrapping around his shoulders. “and i didn’t find you annoying! i was way too focused on how freakishly tall you are.”

“oh wow… my dear girlfriend making fun of me after i poured my love out for her,” satoru feigns sadness at what you’ve just said, dramatically throwing his head back and clutching his chest.

“you’re such a baby!” you moan but you’re grinning widely, cupping his cheeks and forcing him to look at you. “i love you, toru. thank you. you always make me feel pretty… i just needed a little reminder.”

“that’s okay. i’ll remind you every single day what i think of you, sweet girl,” satoru’s lips are on yours before you can reply. his hands wander over your body - your calves, your thighs, your hips, your tummy. normally you’d feel inclined to straighten your back, nervous that he’d see the folds in your tummy, but those thoughts have been pushed to the far back of your mind. you let your body naturally fall into his, feeling the love through his warm, embracing hands.

“how about i show you how much i love you, baby?” satoru pulls away only long enough to see you nod in agreement. you can feel him becoming increasingly needy and desperate with his kisses - they get messier and he lets out pretty moans periodically.

satoru ushers you to lay flat on your back, hoovering over you with that stupid grin of his as he compliments you over and over. so pretty… and you’re all mine. i’m so fucking lucky. can’t believe i’m with you, baby. you can’t feel the nervousness anymore when he starts to undress you - that same nervousness that felt like it was etched into your bones earlier. how could you feel nervous when he’s looking at you with heart-shaped pupils?

your oversized shirt - satoru’s oversized shirt - and your sweats are thrown carelessly acoss the room. the same shirt that you deemed baggy enough to hide your figure sufficiently, so that you wouldn’t have to see the outline of your body. but somehow you found yourself eagerly taking it off, even letting out a giggle when you heard satoru mutter a ‘fuck’ at the sudden reveal of your breasts, as if he hadn’t seen them countless times before. your fingers tug at the hem of satoru’s shirt too but he stops you before you can pull the material off, “tonight’s about you, okay?”

“so fucking pretty,” you can hear a tinge of whininess in his voice, and you have no doubt that his cock is heavy and aching in his pants by now. satoru takes your tits in his large hands, squeezing the fat in between his fingers. his thumbs just barely graze over your sensitive nipples, and he knows if he repeats the action enough you’ll desperately whine and beg for him to give you more. his favourite thing to do, though, is to take them in between his teeth, taking pride in the way your back arches and you gasp in shock.

“ass up, baby. wanna see your pretty cunt,” his voice is stern this time, and you obey him immediately, making sure your back arches just the way he likes. when satoru fucks you like this, he’ll press down on the small of your back, pushing you further into the mattress, but his other hand will keep your hips steady and high in the air, ready for him to pound into you repeatedly, reducing you to nothing but a crying, moaning mess.

while there’s nothing satoru likes more than fucking you face-to-face, seeing your round ass like this makes his head spin. his hands trace over your stretch marks lovingly, as if he’s trying to commit everything about you’re body to memory. your thighs are sticky, coated with the slick that’s been dripping down from your aching cunt. it got your underwear nice and soaked too, darkening the fabric enough that satoru could see the pretty outline of your pussy lips already. his cock twitches and he feels an overwhelming urge to fuck you into oblivion - but he remembers what he initially set out to do. satoru won’t rest until you’re grinding helplessly against his face.

“could look at you forever, angel. my pretty girl,” satoru continues to praise you. you can feel him press his thumb against your clit through your underwear, his slow movements making you clench your thighs in pathetic desperation, but he spreads them apart once again roughly. “wanna hear you say it too, baby. say you’re pretty.”

“i’m pretty. i’m your pretty girl!” your cheeks are a little flushed when you say so, but you can’t bring yourself to feel any shame when the only thing playing in your mind is satoru, satoru, satoru. he’s barely touching you yet you’re already losing your composure, moaning out loudly for him to touch you more.

satoru seems to be content with your answer - finally discarding your underwear, gawking at the string of wetness that forms between your pussy and the fabric. you look so good - smell so good - and you’re so ready to eat, but not like this. not yet. satoru’s quickly turning you over, hands roughly gripping your hips, desperation replacing his usual carefulness.

“can’t take it anymore, baby. need your pussy on my face, please?” satoru whines as he feels his impatience get the best of him. his hands squeeze at your squishy inner thighs, marvelling at how soft they feel. “wanna have your pretty thighs wrapped around my head. please, angel? i’ll make you feel so good. i promise.”

you’re finally agreeing to his request and satoru swears his heart skips a beat. there’s a chorus of ‘fuck, thank you baby. love you so much,’ as he urges you to move up onto his face. your body moves quickly until you’re (your pussy is) hoovering over him.

“fuck… the view is so pretty,” satoru mutters under you, hands comfortably hooking around your thighs. “want you to ride my face, angel. use me to get off, okay?”

you nod in agreement - your movements must be a little slow for satoru because his arms are starting to impatiently pull you downwards. but you sit up once more, peering down at him cautiously.

satoru senses your hesitance, letting his fingers caress your inner thighs in attempt to soothe you. he’s just seconds away from tasting your sweet pussy and satoru might actually die if it doesn’t happen. “it’s okay. i’m okay, see?” he says in reassurance before forcing you down onto him.

you naturally straighten your back once more. but as soon as you feel satoru’s mouth on your clit, you nearly topple over. the air is sucked out of your lungs and one of your hands reaches out to grip the headboard in front of you in attempt to steady yourself. but god damn his mouth is magical - your thighs start to tremble but satoru’s ironclad grip on you keeps you upright. you’re suddenly hyperaware of your tummy as you lean forward - the same routine thought your insecurities have imprinted into your mind. but thinking of satoru’s earlier words, and seeing the way he looks up at you as he’s eagerly pleasing you, you discard those thoughts immediately.

“f-fuck,” you feel satoru curse under you. he’s gazing up at you, marvelling in the way you’re shaking above him in pleasure. the slight bounce of your breasts with each jerky movement you make and the cute rolls of your soft tummy. you look like an angel from down here, satoru thinks. and with your sweet-nectarine taste, your enticing smell and your pretty melodic sounds - this has to be heaven, he concludes. this is what heaven is like.

with the sudden tilt of your hips, satoru gets direct access to your entrance (i hate this word). you can feel his tongue eagerly lapping all over your cunt, making sure his nose nudges your clit. you’re so, so wet and satoru can feel your slick all over his face but he fucking loves it - not wasting a single drop of your sweetness. you suddenly buck your hips, starting to grind against his face. at last, satoru can die a happy man.

“fuck, toru. feels so fucking good. you’re soo good,” you cry out, tangling your fingers in his hair. your grip on his strands tightens as his movements gain speed. if he wasn’t putting his mouth to such good use you know satoru would have the stupidest fucking grin on his face seeing the effect he has on you. and he’ll tease you about it tomorrow - even thought he was the one outright begging for you to seat your pussy on his face.

“toru, i’m so fucking close. oh - oh fuck!” you whine, locking eyes with your boyfriend, who continues to suck greedily at your clit. you feel him squeeze your thighs in reassurance, and you can almost hear him say ‘i’ve got you, baby. don’t hold back.’ in that whiney voice of his. you’re selfishly riding his face now and he fucking loves it - sure, it’s getting a little hard to breathe, but look at you, it’s worth it.

“i’m cumming, cumming - oh, fuck. toru, toru!” suddenly you’re gushing all over satoru’s face but he’s sucking it all up. your body trembles above him, and one of his hands presses against your tummy to steady you as you lean forward. satoru continues his movements on your clit until you’re crying in overstimulation and pushing his head away.

“too sensitive, toru!” you whimper, glassy eyes connecting with his. you lift yourself off his face, legs still shaking in your post-orgasmic haze, letting yourself collapse tiredly besides him. satoru looks just as fucked out as you - flushed cheeks with the lower half of his face covered in your slick. yet he still licks his lips, trying to savour your taste as long as possible.

“that was so fucking hot. see? i told you i’d make you feel good. could have made you cum again if you were patient!”

just put all the satoru's in bold (there were fifty three) and it doesn't look like a real name anymore. anyway, this is my first satoru fic !! please let me know what you thought of him? did i characterise him well? thanks for the love for this fic i’m super proud of how it turned out!!

#satoru gojō x reader #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #jjk x reader #gojo smut #i love u satoru #satoru x you #satoru smut

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goingsunnythousandmerry · 5 months ago

Note

Hi there! I really like your writing! ☺️ I have a request can I get a Sabo x Strawhat pirate reader please? Thank you! 😊❤️

Sabo X Strawhat Reader @ Dressrosa Fluff and NSFW w/ Sex Pollen

Authors Note: SO… not much in actual canon to set this up, so I struggled a bit. Anyways, here is the Sabo x Reader meeting at Dressrosa. Wasn’t sure if we wanted Fluff or smut, so figured why not both? Smut is labeled as such. Enjoy.

Warnings: FLUFF, MDNI, NSFW, Fingering, public sex, p in v sex, finishing inside reader, i don’t own these characters, glove kink

Fluff:

You exited Kyros’ cabin to get some air. The excitement of the past 24 hours on Dressrosa was overwhelming. You were exhausted and yet, the continuing adrenaline prevented you from sleeping.The world outside the cabin was quiet and still. The voices inside the cabin echoed from within the walls, reminiscing about the events of the day. A breeze blew past your face, catching in your hair as it lay behind your shoulders. The air was cool, but comforting. Wanting a break from the voices, you slowly wandered your way up the hill from the cabin towards a large tree surrounded by wildflowers.

You stopped at the base of the tree and admired the flowers at your feet. Shades of pinks, yellow, oranges and red surround you. The air smelled of a floral sweetness, with a hint of dust from the destruction in the village, just beyond where you stood. A deep orange flower with gold tips caught your attention. You knelt down to pick it up, smoothing your light blue sundress as you did. You brought the petals to your nose and breathed in a sweet honey scent with a touch of vanilla.

Its scent transports you back to a moment at sea with your crew. Sanji had picked flowers from an island you stopped on for supplies. Robin had set them on the table as a centerpiece. Sanji made a big dinner for you all and you gathered at the table for the meal. Luffy, Usop, and Chopper were all doing something silly that made you laugh. Sanji and Zoro argued about gentlemanly behaviors. Nami had to stop their argument by hitting them over the head with her fists, for fear they were going to knock over the table. Franky told you about an invention he was working on that made Usop, Luffy, and Chopper swoon. Brook sipped on some tea and told you about a new melody he had been working on before cracking a bone joke. Robin made a cynical joke in response to Brook’s bone joke, then softly chuckled as Usop screamed in terror. It was the first time you had realized how at home you felt with the crew. Smelling the wildflower, you missed the Sunny. You missed being with your whole crew. You missed home.

You were awoken from your flashback by the snapping of a twig behind you. You quickly stood up and turned to face the cause of the disturbance with a gasp. Before you, stood a tall man with blonde hair and a top hat. He was dressed in vintage clothing. You tensed as your eyes met his. You had seen his picture in the paper and recognized him from Doflamingo’s bounty presentation earlier in the day. However, you were unsure as to whether he was friend or foe as you knew little beyond his name and occupation. Sabo, Chief of Staff of the Revolutionary Army, was standing before you, but why, you did not know. You took a deep breath and relaxed your muscles as he smiled sweetly at you.

“Hey. Sorry to scare you. I’m Sabo, I recognized you from your wanted poster. I was just here to see Luffy, but then I saw you here.” Sabo said as he took off his hat and repositioned it under his left arm.

Your body stiffened at the name of your captain coming out his mouth. Your breath caught in your throat as you raced through scenarios. You had read about Sabo, you knew he was tough. You weren’t sure why he wanted Luffy, but you knew he was in no state to fight, frankly none of you were. It was your duty to protect your captain. You clenched your fists and took a deep breath as Sabo fumbled at his gloves.

“What do you want with Luffy?” You asked as you took a step towards the man.

“Luffy?” He said with hesitancy as he studied you. “Luffy is my brother. I’m here to see if he’s alright.” He added.

“What are you talking about? Luffy never mentioned another brother. I met Ace, you’re not him.” You harshly responded with a raised voice as you took another step towards the man.

“He’s dead.” He replied calmly as he replaced his hat atop his head. “Luffy never mentioned me because he thought I was dead. Frankly, I forgot all about him until… Ace…” He paused as his gaze left yours for a moment to stare at the ground before you. “Sorry, I had just got done explaining this to your crewmates. Then I walked out of the cabin and saw you here.” Sabo smiled as his eyes flickered back up to meet yours.

You swallowed hard as the breeze blew your hair into your face. Sabo took a step closer to you and laughed softly. You looked at him through furrowed brows as you tucked your hair behind your ear.

“Luffy always planned to have a tough and loyal crew. I’m glad he found you, Y/N. I’m only sorry I couldn’t have recruited you to join the Revolutionary Army effort first.” He said with a disappointed tilt of his head.

“Me? The Revolutionary Army? How do you know anything about me? How do I know you’re really Luffy and Ace’s brother?”

Sabo just laughed.

“If I wanted to hurt Luffy, I would've done it already. But, Luffy named his first move gum-gum pistol because he thought his punches were as strong as pistols. He wants to be King of the Pirates so he can be freer than anyone else.” Sabo said as you gasped.

“You on the other hand. I’ve read about you in the paper and heard stories. You saved your country with Luffy’s help. You motivated your people to seek the change they deserved. You have been through the hardships of revolution and come out on top. The Revolutionary Army seeks people like you who are willing to take a stand for their countries. You did it without our help and by doing so, you would’ve been quite the asset to us.”

Sabo stepped closer, now inches from you. He looked down into your eyes. You breathed in deeply, catching his scent as you did. He smelled of ash, vanilla, and pen ink. You broke your gaze from his and looked at his chest. Your hands relaxed from their clenched position and the wildflower you forgot you were holding fell from your grasp.

Pen Ink. You thought to yourself.

You lifted your chin up, so your eyes met his onyx ones. He smiled at you. You laughed as the memory of a conversation you once had with Luffy flooded your mind.

“He did mention you.” You said as you tucked your hair behind your ears and smiled. “He told me I reminded him of his brother once. I thought he meant Ace, but then I meant Ace and well, now knowing he had another. It makes sense now.”

“What did he mean by that?”

“I think because I never understood royalty or the celestial dragons, he said you passionately spoke of the same hatred at a young age. That and I want to travel the world and write stories about my adventures and the world’s beauty. He said you wanted to do the same.”

Sabo nodded at this and chuckled to himself.

“Luffy always did have a good way of making people remember and realize their dreams.”

“That he does.” You replied with a nod.

Your eyes returned to lock onto his. His scent was intoxicating. He was handsome in a way you hadn’t seen before. He had scars visible on the outside and one he tried to hide within. His vulnerability about his brother’s made that evident. He was kind and yet incredibly strong, you had seen the damage he inflicted at the stadium. He saw in you something only Luffy before him had seen. You felt as if something within the two of you was pulling you closer together. You couldn’t help, but want to be closer to him. You stepped forward, standing only an arms length apart from him.

“Y/N, Keep him safe for me will you?” He asked as the gloved fingers of his right hand lightly wrapped around your forearm.

His expression was soft, a small smile of support rested on his face. Behind his eyes, you could see the pain of losing Ace as he spoke of Luffy. The pain of forgetting his family. You lifted your hands and rested them on his chest, his hand fell from your forearm to his side as you moved. His eyes widened and his breath caught in his throat in response.

“Sabo, Luffy has a loyal crew, nothing is going to happen to him. We won't let it.”

“Thanks. If he’s ever in trouble. I won’t be far away. You just have to keep him out of trouble until I get there.” He said as his hands gently fell to your waist. “In the meantime, you think of joining the Revolutionary Army. Why did you join up with Luffy anyway?” He said with a laugh.

His hands pulled you closer to him. He was a stranger just moments ago and yet your love for Luffy and for helping others, made it feel like you had known him your whole life. You felt safe in his arms, you never wanted the moment to end. Your nose wrinkled as you laughed in response to his question.

“Good try. You know Luffy, he has a way of being convincing and now I’m not going anywhere. At least, not until my king says he no longer needs me. Until he helps me see my dream out.” You smirked at him as you replied.

Your expression fell blank as you watched his eyes studying your face. One of his hands raised to your cheek and you lifted one of yours to meet it. Your lips separated as you tucked your cheek deeper into his palm. You licked your lips as your gaze fell from his onyx eyes, to his lips, then returned to meet his gaze.

You wanted this to happen and yet, his actions surprised you. Your body tensed as he pulled you into his chest and pressed his soft lips to yours. Your hand fell from his arm to his chest. You melted against the warm feeling of his lips and his embrace. You didn’t kiss back at first, too distracted by the sensation of him. A man you met only five minutes ago and yet, nothing had ever felt as right as being with him. The scent of the wildflower you smelled earlier felt like home with your crew. A home full of laughter and adventure. Sabo’s lips felt like a home of love you’d never known before and you couldn’t wait to experience more of.

Sabo must have noticed your stiffness because he pulled his lips from yours. His hands fell from your cheek and waist and he took a step back from you. Panting, he raised an arm to rub the back of his neck. He shook his head and tried to laugh it off casually. You stood still staring at him, mouth slightly agape.

“I’m sorry. I got carried away, lost in the moment. We hardly know each other.” Sabo nervously spoke.

“Sabo. You have nothing to apologize for.” You whispered as you stepped towards him.

You raised your hands into the blonde curls at the back of his neck and pulled his lips deep into another kiss. His gloved hands found and tightened around your waist. He pulled your chest flush with his. He nibbled at your lower lip as the passion grew within your interlocking lips. You opened your mouth wider allowing his tongue to enter. It found yours and danced with it. His hands explored your waist and lower torso as you backed your intertwined bodies against a nearby tree.

“Brrrring. Brrrring.” The sound of a transponder snail ringing resonated from within Sabo’s chest pocket.

He separated his lips from yours and stared deeply into your eyes, letting the snail ring a moment. Panting from the heat of the kiss, he removed the snail from his pocket. He kissed your forehead and answered the call.

“Click.” The snail said.

“Sabo. Where are you? It’s time to go!” Koala yelled through the speaker of the snail.

“I’ll be right there.” Sabo replied as he hung up the transponder snail and shoved it back in his pocket.

His nose fell to rest flush with yours. He kissed you softly, then took a step back from you. His hands remained on your waist. His expression fell from a soft smile to one of sorrow and longing. Your hands fell to his chest and your fingers curled in his white shirt and vest.

“Guess, I have to go.” He said. “It’s been fun, sorry it was so short.” Sabo said with a chuckle.

Your hand raised to his cheek and he turned his head into the warmth of your palm. His eyes met yours. A smile grew across your cheeks as you looked at him before you.

“I’ll take good care of Luffy for you. Just promise me… Promise me we'll meet again.”

“We will. I’ll make sure of it.”

Sabo leaned forward and kissed your cheek. His hands fell from your waist as he stepped away from you. As he walked away from the tree and the cabin, you wrapped your arms around yourself, missing the warmth of his embrace. Up the hill from you he turned and looked at you over his shoulder. He tipped his hat and a wide smile grew across his face as he nodded his head at you. Then, he walked beyond your view. You took a deep breath and gazed at the moon and wildflower field beyond you. You smiled as you headed back to rejoin your found family in the cabin.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

NSFW

You exited Kyros’ cabin to get some air. The excitement of the past 24 hours on Dressrosa was overwhelming. You were exhausted and yet, the continuing adrenaline prevented you from sleeping.The world outside the cabin was quiet and still. The voices inside echoed from within the walls, reminiscing about the events of the day. A breeze blew past your face, catching in your hair as it lay behind your shoulders. The air was cool, but comforting. Wanting a break from the voices, you slowly wandered your way up the hill from the cabin towards a large tree surrounded by wildflowers.

You stopped at the base of the tree and admired the flowers at your feet. Shades of pinks, yellow, oranges and red surrounded you. The air smelled of a floral sweetness, with a hint of dust from the destruction in the village, just beyond where you stood. A bright pink flower with dark red tips caught your attention as it was the only one you could see of its kind among the sea of colorful petals. You knelt down to pick it up, smoothing your black skirt as you stood up. Another breeze blew through the collar of your white button up shirt. You brought the petals to your nose and breathed in sweet honey with a touch of vanilla and a hint of spice.

The scent of the flower suddenly made you feel very warm. You felt a bit out of it for a moment, but were brought back to by the snapping of a twig behind you. You quickly stood up and turned to face the cause of the disturbance with a gasp. Before you stood a tall man with blonde hair and a top hat. He was dressed in vintage clothing. You tensed as your eyes met his. You had seen his picture in the paper and recognized him from Doflamingo’s bounty presentation earlier in the day. You were unsure as to whether he was friend or fore as you knew little beyond his name and occupation. Sabo, Chief of Staff of the Revolutionary Army, was standing before you, but why, you did not know. You took a deep breath and relaxed your muscles as he smiled sweetly at you.

“Hey. Sorry to scare you. I’m Sabo, I recognized you from your wanted poster. I just came by looking for Luffy.” Sabo said as he took off his hat and repositioned it under his left arm.

Your body stiffened at the name of your captain coming out his mouth. A bead of sweat rolled down your forehead. You wiped it away. Your breath caught in your throat as you raced through scenarios. You had read about Sabo, you knew he was tough. You weren’t sure why he wanted Luffy, but you knew he was in no state to fight, frankly none of you were. It was your duty to protect your captain. You clenched your fists and took a deep breath as Sabo fumbled with his gloves. Your body felt off, sniffing that flower was a bad idea. Something was wrong with it. You felt hot and restless, but you had to make sure this man wasn’t here to hurt your captain.

“What do you want with Luffy?” You asked as you shakily took a step towards the man.

“Luffy?” He said with hesitancy as he studied you. “Luffy is my brother. I came to see that he was alright.” He added.

You gasped at his announcement. Your breath caught in your chest as your mind raced through every story Luffy ever told you. Within them you searched for mention of a brother besides Ace and found nothing. Your eyebrows furrowed as you stared at the kind face of the man before you. You bit your lip as you felt the heat continue to build within you. You weren’t sure what the scent of that flower had done to you, but you had a need and you weren’t sure how to get the ravenous feeling within you to calm down.

“What are you talking about? Luffy never mentioned another brother. I met Ace, you’re not him.” You harshly responded as you took another step towards the man.

“He’s dead.” He replied calmly as he replaced his hat atop his head. “Luffy never mentioned me because he thought I was dead. Frankly, I forgot all about him until… Ace.” He paused for a moment, breaking his gaze from yours. “Sorry, I had just got done explaining this to your crewmates. When I walked out of the cabin and saw you here, I wanted to meet you.” Sabo said as his eyes glanced to the ground in front of him then back up to meet yours.

You swallowed hard as the breeze blew your hair into your face. Sabo took a step closer to you and laughed softly. You looked at him through furrowed brows as you tucked your hair behind your ear. You closed your eyes and swallowed hard.

Your knees began to buckle and you stumbled where you stood. Sabo ran to you and caught you before you could fall. You blinked your eyes as you raised your head to look up at the man before you. His arms wrapped tenderly around you. His touch felt wonderful, but it wasn’t enough to cure you of this odd sensation building with you. Your lips fell apart and you began to pant.

“Y/N. Are you okay?” He asked as he studied you and held you against his chest.

“I’m fine. Just feeling a little off.” You replied. “Me? The Revolutionary Army? How do you know anything about me?”

Sabo just laughed as he tucked your hair behind your ear. A slight moan left your lips as his fingertips brushed down your neck. You slammed a hand over your mouth and your eyes widened at the sound that had just escaped your lips. His eyebrows raised and he tilted his head as he looked down at your flushed cheeks. His expression softened as he stared into your eyes.

“I’ve read about you in the paper and heard stories. You saved your country with Luffy’s help. You motivated your people to seek the change they deserved. You have been through the hardships of revolution and come out on top.You would’ve been quite the asset to us. Now, Y/N. Tell me what’s wrong. You can hardly stand, you're flushed, is it your injuries?”

Sabo raised his gloved hand to your forehead. You tucked your head deeper into the gloved back of his hand. His gaze met yours again. You breathed in deeply, catching his scent as you did. He smelled of ash, vanilla, and pen ink. You blinked half-lidded as you looked at him. The heat was now between your legs. His scent clicked. Luffy had talked of him before. His scent, you knew what you needed to feel better. You knew what that flower was.

Pen Ink. You thought to yourself.

“He did mention you.” You said as you exhaled. “He told me I reminded him of his brother once. I thought he meant Ace, but then I meant Ace and well. Now knowing he had another. It makes sense now.” You replied as you swallowed hard.

“What did he mean by that?” Sabo asked as his hands wrapped tighter around your waist. You continued to pant as his eyebrows furrowed.

“I want to travel the world and write stories about my adventures and the world’s beauty. He said you wanted to do the same.” You said as your lips grew into a soft smile.

Sabo nodded at this and chuckled to himself. Your hands fell from around his neck to your chest where they tried to open your shirt wider. Your breathing grew more ragged. You bit hard on your lips trying to distract yourself from the need growing within you.

“Y/N. What is going on? Do you need a doctor?” Sabo asked.

“I’m fine. Just… Did something stupid and now paying the consequences.”

“What do you mean?

“I sniffed a pretty flower… and well… turns out it was full of sex pollen.”

“Sex pollen?” Sabo’s eyes widened and his jaw clenched. “You… you…”

“I feel like I’m going to die unless I do something… So it’s been nice meeting you and all, but I can’t take this anymore. I need to go get some relief.” You replied trying to pull yourself from his embrace.

“How?” He asked, gripping you tighter.

“I don’t know. I’ll have to use my fingers. I don't know. Sorry. You didn’t need to know.” You replied as a pink hue fell across your cheeks.

“I’ve heard about sex pollen… Is that going to be enough? You look terrible. I mean you’re beautiful, but you look. I’m worried about you.” He responded with a hard swallow.

You laughed as you squeezed your legs closed beneath you. You licked your lips and tried to breath through the need growing in your core. You looked down at his chest as his eyes continued to stare into you with concern.

“It’s all I have, so it’s going to have to be… unless.” You said as you lifted your eyes to meet his.

Sabo swallowed hard again as he forgot how to breath. He exhaled quickly as you licked your lips and pulled yourself deeper into his chest by gripping tightly onto his shirt. Sabo took a deep breath as you began unbuttoning your shirt. Your eyes kept darting between his onyx orbs and his sweet pink lips.

“Sabo. Please. Help me. Fuck me. I can’t take this.”

“Are you sure?” Sabo questioned, with widening eyes and a head tilt as his mouth hung agape.

He licked his lips and looked up and down your body. You nodded as you wrapped your arms tightly around his neck. His eyes met yours and he tucked a stray hair behind your ear. His hand caressed your cheek as he gently pressed his soft pink lips to yours without wasting another second. His kiss deepened and he pulled you closer to him with a tight grip around your waist. He bit your lower lip as your fingers entangled in his hair. You opened your lips allowing his tongue to intertwine with yours. His hand on your cheek fell to your waist. As the two of your lips continued to intermingle, Sabo slowly walked forward, still kissing you, until your back was flush with a nearby tree.

One of Sabo’s gloved hands fell from your waist and began stroking up your outer thigh, stopping at the hem of your skirt. From there, his gloved fingers danced across your skin at the hem of your skirt until they found your inner thigh. His lips parted from yours and nestled against your jaw bone. You panted and moaned as his lips nibbled down your jaw and neck. One of your hands left his neck. You placed your hand on your chest near your collarbone where your finger trailed down your cleavage until they reached the buttons of your blouse. One handed, you began unbuttoning your top as Sabo’s hand traveled further up your skirt.

As you exposed your chest, your breast still held inside by a black lacy bra, Sabo’s teeth found your collarbone, causing you to moan out his name. His gloved hand from your waist found yours and brought it to his chest. Wet kisses sloppily painted your chest until Sabo released your breasts from the fabric cups they were held in. Sabo’s lips backed away from your chest as his eyes met your hard buds in awe. His eyes glanced back up to meet yours. A smile grew across his face as his hand beneath your skirt found your clothed, wet core. Your breath caught in your throat as he teased you through the cloth between your legs. You swallowed hard as you stared at the man before you with need.

“Sabooo.” You moaned. “Please.” You begged.

Sabo chuckled softly, then pulled back the fabric between your legs. His fingers traced up and down your slick several times before stopping at your bundle of nerves. His middle and third finger played with your clit as his lips crashed against yours, to suppress your moan. Heat built in your stomach as his fingers ran different shapes across your clit. Sabo’s lips left yours. His wet tongue began lapping at your hardened nipple as his hand between your legs returned to intensely tracing your slick folds. Without a warning, his middle and third finger entered you. They scissored in and out of your entrance as his teeth met your nipple. Your head fell back against the tree and you moaned as he continued to play with you. Your grip tightened in his hair and his clothed chest. Sabo’s gloved fingers curled within your core and found your g-spot as his tongue flicked your nipple.

“SABO. Yes. That’s it. Don’t stop.” You moaned.

Sabo’s lips pressed against your hard bud sweetly and his fingers left your entrance. He stood tall and his eyes met yours. Your eyes widened as you raised your head from the tree to meet his gaze. The two of you panted looking at one another. A smirk grew across his face.

“Why did you stop?” You desperately begged.

“Thought you wanted me to fuck you? You said your fingers wouldn't be enough? May I?” He asked with an eyebrow raise.

You nodded and bit your lip. You breathed raggedly as you watched the man before you undo his belt buckle and unzip his pants. He dropped his pants and briefs to his ankles, causing his length to spring out against your exposed abdomen. Your tongue lathered your lips as you, drunk with need, stared at his large girthy cock. His length was dripping with pre-cum. As you watched, panting in need, he pumped up and down his veiny length a few times, spreading the substance down his shaft. His eyes raised and met yours.

While staring at you, he used a gloved hand to spread your legs further apart and pull down your panties. He reached for your right calf and raised it up to his waist, so your leg was bent against his side. As he held your leg against himself, his other hand grabbed his length and brought it to trace the lines of your slick. Your eyes shut and you moaned as his tip teased your clit. Your fingers danced up his clothed chest until they found his neck. You pulled him towards you until his lips were passionately locked against yours. Sabo lined himself up with your entrance and slowly dipped his tip in, causing you to moan. Your head fell to his shoulder as he pushed himself in slowly, inch by inch. Sabo moaned as you clenched around him.The two of you paused to catch your breaths and stood still a moment allowing your bodies to adjust to their newfound intimacy.

“You fill me so well, Sabo.” You moaned.

“You’re so tight for me, Y/N. Are you ready for more?”

You nodded and bit your lip as Sabo’s length backed out of your entrance. His grip on your leg and waist adjusted. His lips rested in front of yours, but didn’t touch. You moaned as his length slammed back inside of you. He pumped in and out of you, gripping your leg tighter and wider to get deeper in you as he entered in and out of you. His length perfectly hit your g-spot as he pounded you against the tree trunk. The heat built in your core again as a breeze blew past you hitting your exposed nipple. You moaned. Sabo tucked his head into your shoulder and clenched his teeth. He thrusted in and out of you more fervently, balls slapping your ass.

“Yes. Sabo. YES!” You screamed as your head fell back against the tree.

Your hands clawed at his clothed back as he raised your leg higher and wider allowing his length to slam against your cervix. Tears welled up in your eyes and drool dripped down your chin as Sabo slammed in and out of you harder and faster. His hot breath hit your nipples as he panted against your chest.

“Almost there, Y/N. Finish with me.”

You nodded against him, unable to form words as the heat within you grew and grew. Your eyes rolled back in your head as his length continued to pound against your cervix. He thrusted into you again causing you to clench around his length. His length twitched within you, sending you over the edge. Sabo moaned against your collarbone as you felt warmth fill your entrance. Your legs shook against his body as your juices mixed with his between your legs.

“SABO.” You moaned as your eyes rolled back.

Sabo and you stayed interconnected for a few moments, just trying to catch your breaths and process the rush of the last few minutes. You petted the back of his head as he laid against you. As his head rose from your chest, he kissed you and pulled his length from between your wet entrance. You smiled against his lips as his hand caressed your cheek.

“Feel better?” He asked as his lips left yours.

“Much. Can I ask for a repeat?”

“Brrrring. Brrrring.” The sound of a transponder snail ringing resonated from within Sabo’s chest pocket.

“Shit.” He muttered.

One of his hands returned to your waist as his other removed the snail from his pocket. He kissed your forehead and answered the call. You stared at him, still trying to catch your breath.

“Click.” The snail said.

“Sabo. Where are you? It’s time to go!” Koala yelled through the speaker of the snail.

“I’ll be right there.” Sabo replied as he hung up the transponder snail and shoved it back in his pocket.

Your hands lifted to his chest as he redressed himself and buckled his pants. You stared at him with longing as his head turned for his eyes to meet yours. You had just met Luffy’s long lost brother, but you knew after this, you’d never forget him. You were already looking forward to your next meeting.

“Guess, I have to go.” He said. “It’s been fun, sorry it was so short.” Sabo said with a chuckle.

Your hand raised to his cheek and he turned his head into the warmth of your palm. His eyes met yours. A smile grew across your cheeks as he buttoned your top and fixed your skirt and panties. He gently pressed his lips against yours and tucked a few flyaway strands of hair behind your ear.

“I’ll take good care of Luffy for you.”

“I know you will, and in return, I’ll give you a repeat next time we meet.” He replied with a wink.

Sabo leaned forward and kissed your cheek. His hands fell from your waist as he stepped away from your embrace. He turned and walked away from the tree and the cabin. You wrapped your arms around yourself, missing the warmth of his embrace. Up the hill from you he turned and looked at you over his shoulder. He tipped his hat and a wide smile formed across his face. He nodded his head at you and walked beyond view. You took a deep breath and gazed at the moon and wildflower field beyond you before heading back to rejoin your found family in the cabin.

#one piece fanfiction #one piece scenario #one piece x reader #one piece smut #one piece fluff #sabo x y/n #sabo x you #chief of staff sabo #revolutionary sabo #sabo x reader #sabo #one piece sabo #one piece fan fiction #one piece #sabo smut

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beenbaanbuun · 2 months ago

Note

j have to say i love the way u write jongho so badddd ALL OF UR POSTS R SO GRRFFGGGRGDGD

anyways while we’re here… what if 🧍pt 2 of 🧍the 🧍pool fic 🧍🧍

he was so cute there 🙁🙁 (AUUGHHHGHGHGHVC) if not tho i would like to request more awkward/loser jongho he is real and has my whole heart 😞😞

thank u for writing in general tho u eat tf up everytime

okay so i am planning a part 2 to the pool fic!!!! but it’s not written yet… BUT!!!!!!!!! here is more awkward jongho for your viewing pleasure :D

(also those photos of him… your honour i love him. he’s so silly 😓)

words - 1.7k

genre - suggestive/nsfw

warnings - loser!jongho, jongho is thinking thoughts about the reader, slight dom!reader/sub!jongho, teasing, reader calls jongho good boy…, public touching off peen but also no one can tell, i think that’s it??

——————————————————————————-

if jongho were an artist then you would be his muse. right in this moment, he can find a million things he would love to replicate in oils. everything from the way your delicately painted fingernails pick at a ball of lint on your skirt to the print of lipgloss left on the half-empty coffee mug deserves to be immortalised on canvas. the fact that it's only the first date should make him feel insane, but all he can think is that perhaps if things progress between the both of you, he'll be able to find a million more things to admire.

"i like your shirt," you smile, the world immediately seeming brighter as you do. he smiles back, although it feels a bit forced. not because he doesn't want to smile back--god, just sitting here and looking at you makes him want to do nothing *but* smile--but because he feels he can do nothing but sit and stare in awe, slack jawed and eyes wide. "i haven't seen you wear that one in class before.”

that sets his face on fire, painting his cheeks a pretty shade of pink. you notice him in lectures? not just that but you notice what he wears? he casts an eye down towards the shirt that's slung loosely over his plain black t-shirt. he'd figured it was far too formal just to wear to class but if you like it... well, maybe dressing up a little more wouldn't be too much of an issue. when he looks back up, he immediately forgets what the shirt looks like, his brain flooded once more with the image of you.

"thank you… i like your shirt too," he repeats your compliment back to you, unsure of what else he should say. of course, theres so many things more that he likes than just the flimsy piece of fabric that adorns your top half, but despite the poems and soliloqies hes writing in his head, its hard to get the words out. he settles for your shirt; its easy to compliment you on that when the words have already been said by you.

"youve seen it before, though," you giggle, and his heart does a little dance in his chest. if only everything could sound as sweet as you. if he could hear you every day for the rest of his life, hes sure thered be nothing to be miserable about ever again. you bite your lower lip to stifle the sound, and he can’t quite work out how he feels about that. he wants to hear you more, but just the sight of your teeth sinking into that pink fleshy pillow is enough to make his heart trip and stumble down several flights of stairs.

holy fuck.

of course, he’s spent hours studying your face before now, sitting in lectures picking out each feature and coming up with a million and one reasons as to why he adores them. your lips are something he’s already committed to memory, the colour, the shape, the way they look wrapped around the neck of the water bottle you bring to every lecture. this is the first time he’s seen them in this light though. up close, being tugged upon by your teeth in such a manner that he can’t help but let his mind wander to some less than savoury places.

he swallows down the saliva that had begun to gather upon his tongue; he’s a gentleman and these thoughts really shouldn’t be in the forefront of his mind right now. he shouldn’t be wondering how you look on top of him, hips swaying back and forth with your lip tucked away to stifle your moans. he tries to pull his eyes away to stifle his overactive imagination, but when they land on your thighs instead, he gives up. he’s a gentleman, he can have a normal conversation while his mind runs wild with the fantasies of what he’d do to you if you were in his bed.

“it’s still a pretty shirt,” his voice is quiet, yet it still somehow manages to crack. it’s humiliating, of course it is, but it’s made even worse when the pretty sound of your laughter starts up again. it still sounds like wind chimes on an autumn day, but this time he can feel the bitter breeze that rings them nipping at his skin. he doesn’t blame you for laughing at him; he would too. in fact, he probably would’ve laughed the second he asked you out on this date if he were in your shoes. why would someone as perfect as you even bother to look at someone like him?

he’s half expecting some cruel jest from you. a little joke you make at his expense just to make yourself feel better about this weird guy you’ve found yourself on a date with. he can take it, he tells himself; it’s what he assumed would happen anyway.

but instead he hears the scrape of a mug being pushed across the table, your mouth silent except for the biting giggles that still flow freely from it. he looks up to your face once more only to see anything but the animosity he was expecting. a kind toothy grin paired with your wide eyes that he fell in love with the very first time he spotted you. you look kind, not at all like the image he’d been painting in his head. it’s a relief and the invisible noose that had been slowly tightening around his neck loosens. he can breathe again, knowing that nothing has changed from when he first set foot in the cafe, despite his body’s attempt to sabotage him.

“here,” your voice is warm, just like it always is. if your laughter is a wind chime on a cool autumn day, then your voice is most certainly the crackling fire that awaits him inside. “you finished your drink but it sounds like you need another. you can have mine, i’ll go and grab anotherfor myself.”

you begin to lift yourself from your chair, and before he even realises what he’s doing a demanding, “no,” comes from jongho. you pause, eyes flickering over to him in question. he shakes his head, more at himself than to you, yet you seem to respond, sitting yourself back down on the seat without little complaint. so obedient, he notices, although the thought is quickly pushed away by the shame he still feels. he takes a sip of your drink to soothe his throat. “i’ll get you one in a moment,” he forces his words out, “i’ve taken yours, i’m not going to make you buy a new one for yourself.”

“i don’t mind,” you say softly as jongho takes another sip, “you can just buy me something on our next date!”

and just like that, jongho’s mind just… stops. he forgets what it means to breathe, the oxygen hitching in his throat as he inhaled through his nose. the liquid his mouth refuses to slide down his neck with ease, catching right at the entrance to his throat and making him cough. he splutters, the rest of the coffee expelling itself from his mouth and flying all over his own lap. “shit,” he murmurs, hands flying into action to clean himself up, only for more coffee to slosh ungracefully over the side of the cup, “fucking hell!”

“jongho!” he can't even blink before you’re there at his side, kneeling on the cold wood floor of the cafe with a napkin in hand. it’s like you’re not even thinking when you begin to dab at his stomach with the cloth, touching his tummy so gently that it sends tingles up and down his spine. his hands fly immediately to the arms of his chair and he clings onto them for dear life.

it’s worse when your hand travels a little further south, grazing the waistband of his jeans. he squeezes his eyes shut as you pat the damp material, not sparing a single second to consider what having your hand so close to his cock might be doing to his sanity. he can feel it stirring, his underwear becoming tighter and tighter with each passing second. there’s nothing he can do about it other than hope you don’t notice—

“oh,” your hand falls limp against his thigh as your gaze locks onto the quite obvious bulge that he’s sporting. of course he is, what else would you expect when you sit there rubbing at his almost-crotch? sure, you were just trying to be helpful but now jongho is hard and it’s not like he could exactly help it.

he watches you intently as your gaze shifts to his face, looking even more beautiful from this close up. you’re mere inches away; if he were to just bend down a little, he could snag your lips in a kiss. he so badly wants to, however, he can’t imagine it would help his case at all.

“you’re hard,” you whisper to him.

he nods.

“i am,” he doesn’t know what else to say. you caught him and that’s that. what, is he supposed to deny it? how can he when your hand lays just ever-so-slightly left of the evidence.

“is it my fault?” the corner of your mouth twitches into a sly smirk, letting jongho know that you already know the answer. nevertheless, he nods, gulping down the lump that’s beginning to form in his throat. “sorry, i didn’t quite hear that.”

“yes,” he hisses out through gritted teeth, “it’s your fault.” you smile at him, beautiful and dangerous.

“so i guess that means i should fix it, right?” you hand shifts the tiniest bit, catching the edge of his erection with your finger tip. he winces, body twitching in reaction to your cruel maneuver. for someone so sweet, it seems you have a bit of a mean streak. jongho can hardly complain; you look hot sitting by his feet as you tease him. damn his shyness, honestly. if it wasn’t for that, he’d love nothing more than to show you who’s in charge. for now, though, he guesses he can let you have your fun.

“please,” he sighs as you apply a little more pressure to his bulge. to anyone else, it might just look like you’re an overly attentive girlfriend dabbing at the spilt coffee; to jongho you look like the picture of filth.

“good boy,” you whisper to him, and despite jongho’s own preference for dominance, he has to admit that those words sound so pretty coming from you. a shiver makes its way up his spine. “meet me in the bathroom in 5.”

#ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez oneshot #ateez fluff #ateez scenarios #ateez fic #ateez smut #jongho x reader #jongho smut #jongho fluff

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eoieopda · 1 year ago

Note

I am here to request some silly, sweet Channie fluff 🥺🥺 as mild or spicy as you want, idm, just want some deep comfort feat. my favourite fun-sized snack 🥰🥰

the one with chan and the promotion (i)

pairing: bang chan x gn!reader type: drabble (fluff, hurt/comfort) au: fuck buddies to ?, pining rating: 18+ wc: 2.2k (don’t look at me) summary: you need a ride home after getting your wisdom teeth removed. chan just so happens to be free. | part two (4/20/24) cw: chan’s pov, minimal pronoun use (they), no smut but it’s referenced, reader has outpatient dental surgery (not depicted), reference to blood/swelling, reader is doped the hell up. 🔞 MINORS WHO INTERACT WITH ME AND/OR MY CONTENT WILL BE BLOCKED, WHETHER OR NOT THE CONTENT IS NSFW. I’M AN ADULT WRITING EXCLUSIVELY FOR OTHER ADULTS.

You’re drifting off in some twilight on the other side of a closed door, but Chan’s the one that’s stupefied.

Mechanically speaking, he knows how he got himself into this position: drove here in his car, parked in the lot outside, walked into the front door. His ass is in this very seat because he dropped himself there, and he hasn’t moved in the two hours that have passed since.

None of that explains why he’s in his current position, though — why you reached out to him, of all people, to come with you to something like this.

Why he’s more giddy over that choice than confused by it, even if it turns out that he was your last resort.

He’s lost in thought when your oral surgeon’s head peeks out through the doorway to the recovery room. She asks if he’s “the boyfriend”, and he has no idea how to explain that he’s more of a “semi-consistent fuck buddy”, so he simply says “yes” before allowing her to usher him into the room.

You’re slumped in a reclining chair when Chan walks in, heavy eyelids fluttering as you try hard to fight off sleep. Better still, the gauze in your mouth makes your chipmunk cheeks stick out while your still-numb lips fumble with words. The urge to reach for his phone and snap a picture makes his fingers twitch, but he doesn’t; you’d absolutely murder him if he tried.

“Mmfph?” You grunt when your narrowed eyes manage to clock him standing there.

He grins automatically, fingers reaching up to tip a hat he isn’t wearing. “Mmfph to you, too.”

Whatever drugs they gave you to knock you on your ass aren’t strong enough to overcome your personality; you roll your eyes much more easily than you keep them fully open. That trademark sass must’ve taken a lot out of you, though. You doze off again before he can blink, slumping further in your chair with your head lolled uncomfortably to the side.

Your neck is going to hurt later, he thinks with a frown.

“Once they get their sea legs back, you should be okay to go.”

Chan jumps when the surgeon pipes up, having completely forgotten anyone else was in the room.

She clears her throat sheepishly, clearly aware that she’s interrupting something. Breezing right past that awkwardness, she pulls a prescription pad from her coat pocket. The top page is promptly ripped off and passed to him with a stern look.

She warns, “Make sure they don’t take this medication on an empty stomach.”

Damn — only two hours in, and he’s already being promoted from chauffeur to caretaker? It should embarrass him that this fact tickles him thoroughly pink, but it doesn’t. Inwardly, he high-fives himself.

Nice one, Chan!

“Soup is best,” the surgeon continues, once again pulling him out of his own head. There’s a pause before she remembers the kicker; she waves her hand urgently when she finally does. “Nothing spicy, though.”

He nods in understanding, and just like that, she pats his shoulder and disappears out the door. Unsure what else to do, Chan takes a seat on the small stool next to your chair and waits.

And wait, and waits, and waits.

Jesus. What did they give you — a horse tranquilizer?

When your eyes open the second time, they find him immediately. They’re still a bit glassy, but they’re much more alert. Bright, even, which is a bit of a wonder, given the circumstances. Right away, he can tell that the space cadet has — sort of — returned to Earth.

“Can —?” You gesture to your mouth, which struggles to frown around the gauze.

Uselessly, you flick out your tongue in an attempt to wet your lips. They're dry from all the time you must’ve spent with your mouth open, and his fingers twitch again when he pictures the chapstick in his pocket.

You distract him with what he assumes are words, prompting him to shift his gaze from your mouth to your eyes.

Everything that comes next is garbled, totally incoherent, but he gets the gist. With a quick glance at his watch, he confirms that it’s been thirty minutes since he started watching you sleep, and that feels like enough time.

Right?

So, he shrugs permissively; you perk up the second you’re given the green light. Bravely, you only whine a little bit when you lay eyes on the slightly bloody, thoroughly spit-soaked material as you pull it away from your gums.

Chan can’t tell if you’re trying to pout when you hold that mess out to him and stare expectantly, but the intent doesn’t matter much in the long run; the effect is the same. He takes your drooled-on trash without a second thought.

Squinting as he concentrates, he fires it off towards the bin in the corner like he’s trying to beat a buzzer. The pair of you watch as it ricochets off the wall, then drops perfectly in the basket below.

Immediately, he turns back to you with wiggling eyebrows and a smirk. “Bank shot,” he brags.

You ignore the true purpose of his raised hand — a well-deserved high-five — and instead latch onto it. Gripping tightly as if your life depends on it, you drag yourself up and out of your chair.

Before you can throw yourself entirely off balance, Chan swoops in to tuck you under his arm. You’re independent to a fault, however; and you glare up at him exactly like he guessed you would. Apologetic, he keeps his distance with his hands raised.

Go for it, then.

All it takes for you to accept defeat is a few wobbly steps toward the door and some curse words muttered under your breath, for zest. You give in faster than you want to and dive into his side with a long-suffering groan. You’re not looking, so he doesn't bother to hide the triumphant smirk that spreads when your arms wrap around his waist.

The walk back to his car takes a lot more effort than he initially expected. Though you cling to him like you’ll float off without him, you insist on attempting to wander in every direction except the one you need to head in. To the best of his ability, Chan steers you across the pavement; you babble through every stumbled step.

“I’m going to open your door now, okay?” He coos once you finally reach his car.

It surprises him slightly — the softness he’s exuding, and how much like a reflex it feels — but he doesn’t dwell on it. He’s got a far more difficult puzzle to solve: getting your wriggling body into his car.

After a few unsuccessful tries, you finally let him usher you out of the way of the door. You spill into his passenger seat like you’re more jelly than bones, knocking your skull against the doorframe as you go.

Jesus Christ.

Eyes wide, Chan ducks down to run his fingers gingerly over what will likely be a goose egg tomorrow. Nervously, he chuckles, “That — uhh — that was quite the entrance. You okay?”

Tilting your chin just so, you push your cheek into his palm and blink up at him slowly like you’ve already forgotten the question. Suddenly, so has he. Several moments whizz by just like that — with his arm raised uncomfortably and your heavy head resting against his hand.

Never in his life has he wanted to kiss a forehead as badly as he does yours. It’s like you’ve got a magnet where your orbital bone should be, and it’s a bit shocking. Whatever magic you’ve got — some sort of tractor beam in your eyes, perhaps — pulls, pulls, pulls, but he stops himself.

That’s not what this is, he reminds himself as he backs away and shuts your door carefully in his place. That’s not who I am to you.

In this moment, Chan is your taxi driver, carting you off to the apartment he’s been in a hundred times — but never once in the daytime.

As he goes, it becomes a little clearer with every kilometer: the sun can’t be beating down overhead because he feels it next to him, warming his arm through his jacket; blinding him whenever his gaze drifts over to the passenger side.

“Chan,” you pout out of nowhere.

Again, your head droops fast and bumps his shoulder. You don’t react to this second knock, but he does, sucking air in through his teeth.

“Need to get you a helmet,” he mutters with a sheepish laugh. “You’re gonna give yourself a concussion at this rate.”

“Don’t need a helmet,” you argue. “I need pork belly, bad. Stop, please?”

Glancing quickly down at you, Chan bites back a smile. You look so adorably pitiful with your hazy eyes blinking one at a time, lips all puffy to match your cheeks. It takes all he’s got to tear his eyes off you and put them back on the road ahead.

He sighs, genuinely sorry. “No can do, champ.”

You repeat the nickname, pop the last letter, and make yourself laugh so hard that you hiccup.

“Your options currently are soup or… well, soup.” He tries to sound firm, but if you pout at him a second time, Chan might throw your dentist’s warning right out the window. “Think it over while I stop at the pharmacy, yeah?”

In the quiet that follows, he swears he can hear the gears turning in your head. He doubts it has anything to do with what he just told you, but he doesn’t mind. Come to think of it, he doesn’t mind any of what this day has turned out to be so far. That doesn’t necessarily surprise him, either.

With the way things currently are between you, you don’t feature much in his everyday life; only weekends and the occasional weeknight. It works well, this thing you’ve got going. He enjoys what you do — that head game of yours is otherworldly — but judging by the glimpses he’s seen so far, he likes who you are, too.

Despite not knowing you on some deeper level, shit like this — being around you for some profoundly asexual purpose — feels natural. Like he could do it more often; be a little more than just a recurring character. If you let him, that is.

Would you let him?

That question rattles around his brain when he pulls up to the pharmacy and dashes inside, too wary to leave you alone for long but wholly unprepared to guide you through a shop in your current state. He’s still thinking about it when he jogs back to his car with your prescription in hand.

That bag is nearly dropped to the pavement below when he sees you, however; and he can’t remember what he was thinking about before because you’re weeping now. In a flash, Chan throws himself into his seat and jerks the door shut behind him, metal groaning in the process.

“What’s wrong?”

He doesn’t mean to sound so forceful, but he can feel his pulse in his ears. On instinct, he reaches out and places gentle hands on your temples. Eyes scanning for any sign of injury, he tries to bury his urgency in a soothing voice. “Hey — talk to me. Are you okay?”

You blink up at him with wide, wet eyes. Oh, fuck, you’re breaking my heart. His stomach drops at the sight of your lower lip trembling, but then you whimper:

“What if worms don’t have best friends?”

And Chan needs a minute because he can’t believe you’re real, that you’re borderline bereft over worms, or that he’s this fucking enamored.

Before he knows it, he starts giggling so hard that his eyes start to swim. Thankfully, it’s with mirth and not utter devastation like yours. Pinching his bottom lip between his teeth, he wipes a tear off your cheek with the side of his thumb. Just as gently, he tries his best to reassure you, “I’m sure they do.”

“You’re sure?” You repeat with a sniffle. Chan nods; he’s never been more so.

Successfully placated, you fall into thoughtful silence next to him. It doesn’t last long, though. Abruptly, you and your goldfish memory change course: “Can we get pork belly?”

Something in him wants to give you the world in this moment — the moon on a string, or whatever — but he shakes his head, unwilling to budge. But then your face falls, and he blurts out, “When you’re better, I’ll take you out for some.”

And he means it.

You peep, “Maybe next week.”

Chan laughs while he puts the key in the ignition and turns it. Maybe, he thinks, if you remember having this conversation. As the engine roars back to life, a new thought bubbles to the surface in his mind:

Maybe you will remember.

If you do — and if he’s brave enough then — maybe he’ll confess that he’s a liar. He might own up to the fact that, when you called to ask for his help, he didn’t already have the day off like he claimed to; or that the sick time he rushed to claim in the aftermath wasn’t attributable to his health at all.

Maybe he’ll admit that he doesn’t care how many people you asked before you turned to him because you ultimately did.

Just maybe.

As he backs out of his parking space, Chan casts another glance your way. It takes all the effort in the world for you to do it, but you smile at him with your whole damn face.

That settles it, then.

He nods once — firmly — and corrects you, “Definitely next week.”

Part two.

#bang chan #stray kids #bang chan x reader #bang chan imagines #bang chan scenarios #bang chan drabble #bang chan fluff #stray kids fluff #stray kids drabble #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #bc #skz #moni!#moots #jade writes #jade’s requests #jade’s drabbles #re: the one with chan and the promotion

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