#i was in school long before screens were everywhere

[link-of-asgard]

I asked what "Whiteout" was cause for some reason I forgot Tipex existed, so this smart arse decided to go on some weird tangent assuming I don't know what paper and pens are.

[mahmood7]

Please listen carefully Please listen carefully🙏 I need you to read this..🥹

On the seventh of October I am teacher Mahmoud Atta. I work as a teacher teaching secondary school students.

✅️Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #365 )✅️

On October 7th, I was getting ready to go to school. On October 7th, while I was getting ready to go to school, my life was completely turned upside down. Israel declared war on Gaza. After that, they announced their entry into the roads and cities and forced us to leave the city from Khan Yunis to Rafah

.

We passed through a road called the Road of Death. Tanks were everywhere. Bullets were raining down. We passed through a road called the Road of Death. Tanks were everywhere. Bullets were raining down. If you survived, your brother would not.

We've all seen the end of the world movies on the big screen. We have all seen end of the world movies on cinema screens, but what we saw was real and not imaginary. I wish it was imaginary.

We finally arrived in Rafah Finally we arrived in Rafah, the safe city as it is called, but where to go? The sea is behind us, the weather is freezing, and the borders are closed with Egypt on the other side and Israel on the third and fourth sides. I found myself making a tent out of nylon for myself and my family.

No water, no electricity, no food, no place to go to the bathroom, no life. I wish I had died sooner.

We returned after a long time to our city.After a long time, we returned to our city. The first sight was that a giant monster had entered the city and left it in ruins, so much so that I did not recognize my house or my neighborhood. Oh my God, is this Khan Yunis?

fI searched to find my home, to find my apartment, which contained my memories and my most beautiful days, destroyed. I searched to find my home, to find my apartment, which contained my memories and my most beautiful days, destroyed.

Today I stand before you to search for Today I stand in your hands to search for any help to restore myself again thanks to you.. I am waiting for your help

[cumironi]

ALWAYS : GOJO SATORU

gojo is an actor, a famous one, but he’s also been your boyfriend for a few years. you have an argument with him when he agrees to have a fake relationship with his costar without even telling you.

warning. established relationship! gojo, non-sorcerer! gojo, angst to comfort, reader thinking about leaving him.

gojo satoru, the name on everyone's lips, the face lighting up screens and hearts alike. after his series, jujutsu kaisen, hit the airwaves, his fame exploded. people couldn’t get enough of him—the magnetic charm, that boyish yet strikingly handsome face, his tall frame that seemed to demand attention, and that playful personality that left fans swooning. soon, he was everywhere, his every move followed, every glance analyzed. the media loved him, and so did the world. and it wasn’t long before rumors began to stir, fans shipping him with his co-star, utahime, the chemistry they shared on screen now fueling wild speculations.

but you— you loved him before all of that. before the fame, before the cameras, before the world started calling his name. you'd been his since high school, standing by his side through the quiet moments when it was just the two of you, when the world was smaller, and it felt like nothing could touch what you had. in all those years together, not once did you doubt him. not once did you question his love or his loyalty. satoru was yours, and you were his, in a way that felt unshakable, unbreakable.

until tonight.

you’re sitting on the couch, in the living room of your shared apartment, the place that always felt like home when he was around. the soft glow of the television flickers across your face, but the news it brings feels like a punch to the gut. there, on the screen, are headlines you never thought you'd see—rumors swirling about satoru dating utahime. the photos, the whispers, they feel like shards of glass cutting into you. your heart sinks, heavy and cold, and the world around you seems to crumble, falling to pieces at your feet. the trust you once held so tightly begins to tremble, slipping through your fingers like sand.

your chest tightens, breath shallow, as tears threaten to spill. it’s a slow ache, this feeling of betrayal—an unraveling of everything you thought you knew. but even with the panic swirling inside, even as the overthinking begins its cruel work, you hold onto a fragile hope. this has to be a misunderstanding, a twisted story spun by the media. you tell yourself to wait, to breathe, to stay strong until he comes home, until he can explain it all away.

hours tick by, and the apartment feels too quiet, too still. the silence presses in, and every minute that passes drags you deeper into doubt. finally, the door clicks open. it’s late—almost one in the morning. you watch as satoru steps through the threshold, his movements slow, his eyes glazed, the unmistakable scent of alcohol hanging heavy in the air between you.

satoru’s familiar smile lights up his face the moment his eyes land on you, that same warm, loving expression you’ve seen countless times. even through the haze of alcohol, there’s a softness in his gaze, a look of pure adoration as he leans against the doorframe for a moment, taking you in. despite the lateness of the hour, despite the swirling rumors, his eyes still hold that undeniable love, as if nothing in the world could change what he feels for you.

he steps closer, his movements slow but deliberate, and before you can say a word, his long arms wrap around your smaller frame. the embrace is warm, familiar, his body pressing against yours with a kind of gentle urgency. satoru buries his head in the crook of your neck, nuzzling into your skin like he always does when he needs comfort or closeness. his hold tightens around you, as if anchoring himself to you, as if the weight of the world outside disappears when he’s in your arms.

“i missed you,” he mumbles against your neck, voice low and slightly slurred from the alcohol. his breath is warm, his touch soothing, and for a moment, despite everything, everything seems like it’s as it should be between the two of you.

he pulls back just enough to look at you, the smile on his face wider, his gaze a bit more unfocused. he cups your face, his thumb gently tracing the line of your cheekbone. “you’ve been waiting up for me, dollface?”

you meet his blue eyes, those familiar pools of endless blue now a bit dull, clouded by the alcohol and the late hour. they still carry warmth, but beneath it all, you can see the exhaustion and the weight of something unspoken. his thumb traces your cheek with such tenderness, and for a brief second, it almost feels like everything is normal, like the rumors you’d seen and the doubts gnawing at your chest were just figments of your imagination. but as you nod silently, unable to bring yourself to speak, the lump in your throat grows heavier.

you watch his face, his smile a little too wide, his gaze unfocused, and your heart tightens. you want to ask him, demand the truth, but the words stay trapped inside, tangled with fear and uncertainty. instead, you just nod again, your fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt as you fight the urge to cry. the silence between you feels thick, and the world seems to hang in the balance, teetering between the love you’ve always known and the fear of what might come next.

satoru’s smile falters for a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly as if he can sense the tension in the air. he can see the way you cling to his shirt, the tears threatening to spill from your eyes, and there’s a brief flicker of guilt in his expression. but he masks it quickly with another, more forced, smile.

“hey,” he murmurs, his thumbs gently wiping away the tear that escapes down your cheek. “why the tears, dollface?”

he can senses your inner turmoil when you don’t answer, the tension in your body, the way you cling to the fabric of his shirt tighten like a lifeline. the haze of alcohol makes everything hazy, his thoughts muddled and his reactions slower, but he can feel the storm brewing inside you. he leans his forehead against yours, his warm breath ghosting against your skin.

“dollface,” he murmurs, his voice laced with a mix of gentleness and intoxication, “i can see that pretty little head of yours overthinking. talk to me.”

your breath catches in your throat as he leans his forehead against yours, his closeness making it harder to suppress the storm raging inside you. his warmth, the familiar scent of him mixed with alcohol, wraps around you like a blanket, but it does nothing to soothe the ache in your chest. his words, so gentle yet muddled by intoxication, only deepen the conflict inside you. his voice pulls you in, but it’s the nagging thought in the back of your mind, the one you’ve been trying to ignore, that finally breaks through.

with trembling hands, you pull back just enough to meet his eyes, your grip on his shirt tightening even further, knuckles white from the strain. the words hang in the air between you, unspoken but heavy. your heart pounds in your chest as you force yourself to ask the question you’ve been dreading.

“did you... did you cheat on me with utahime, ‘toru?”

your voice is barely above a whisper, shaking with fear and vulnerability. you can feel the weight of the question settle into the space between you, and for a moment, it feels like time stops. the tears that had been threatening to fall finally spill over, your chest tight with the possibility that everything you had believed in, everything you had built together, could shatter with his next words.

satoru's reaction is immediate, his eyes widening as the weight of your words sinks in. without hesitation, he quickly shakes his head, his hands gripping your shoulders firmly but gently, grounding you both. there's a slight frown on his face, the alcohol clouding his thoughts, making it harder for him to process what you're feeling, but his urgency to reassure you is clear.

“no, no, no,” he mutters, his voice firm despite the slur, “of course not. i’d never do that to you, never.” his words come out rushed, almost desperate, as if the mere idea of it hurts him. he leans in closer, his blue eyes more focused now, searching yours for understanding.

“i love you too much, dollface. you have to know that,” he continues, his voice softer but filled with sincerity. “there’s no one else, not utahime, not anyone. it’s just you.”

his thumbs brush against your shoulders, his frown deepening as he tries to break through the haze of alcohol. he pulls you into him again, hugging you tightly, as if holding you close would somehow prove his words, his body trembling slightly against yours with the weight of his emotion.

you swallow hard, forcing a tight smile as you look up at him, your voice barely steady. “then why did i see the news, satoru? about you dating utahime?”

the question slips from your lips, though the lump in your throat makes it harder to speak. you’re trying to keep yourself from breaking, to hold back the tears threatening to fall, but the ache in your chest won’t ease. every part of you feels fragile, like you’re on the edge of crumbling.

you watch his expression carefully, searching for something—an explanation, a sign that what you saw wasn’t real. but even as you hold onto the hope in his words, the hurt gnaws at you, and you wonder if your heart can handle the truth, whatever it may be. your grip on his shirt loosens slightly, but you can’t stop the tremble in your fingers as you push through the overwhelming emotion rising within you.

satoru's expression falters again, his grip on you tightening, the alcohol making it harder for him to control his feelings. there's a mix of guilt and frustration in his eyes, a conflict warring within him. “it’s not what you think…” he starts, his words slightly slurred, “it’s all just... it’s all for the press, you have to understand…”

he’s trying to make you understand, to make you see past the headlines and rumors, but the complexity of the situation and the amount of alcohol in his system makes it difficult. he pulls you closer, his arms wrapping around you with a desperate kind of possessiveness. “it’s all for publicity, doll,” he repeats, his voice a bit more pleading now. “they’re pushing a narrative, but you know me. you know what we have. i would never betray you… never.”

he leans his forehead against yours again, his eyes searching yours for any sign that you believe him. the scent of alcohol is strong, but beneath it, you can still smell the familiar scent of his cologne, the one that’s always so comfortingly ‘him’.

his words swirl around in your mind, a mix of desperation and pleading, but they don’t quite settle. the weight of his arms around you feels heavier now, almost suffocating, and as his forehead presses against yours again, you find yourself pulling away, pushing him back gently but firmly. your eyes narrow, the confusion and hurt bubbling up inside you, and before you can stop yourself, the question bursts out.

“what? so you and utahime are just pretending to date? for the media?”

your voice trembles with disbelief, the words sharp and cutting. the idea feels like a betrayal all on its own, the thought of him allowing the world to believe in something so intimate with someone else. you’re struggling to keep your emotions in check, trying to hold on to the last thread of composure you have left, but the pain in your chest only grows stronger.

your tears threaten to spill again, but you blink them back, refusing to let them fall. the ache in your throat tightens as you wait for his response, your heart pounding with a mixture of anger and desperation for the truth.

satoru’s eyes widen further, the flicker of surprise obvious in his expression. he almost looks taken aback by your bluntness, the alcohol impairing his ability to react in a more composed manner. he stares at you, the weight of your words and the look in your eyes making it clear that you’re not buying into his explanation.

he tries to step closer to you again, his hands reaching out to touch you, but you step back, maintaining the distance between you two. he’s not used to you being this confrontational, this insistent, and for a moment, he looks almost lost, the situation overwhelming him in his current state. he swallows hard, the guilt and confusion clear in his eyes, as he runs a hand through his hair.

“i... it’s not like that,” he finally manages to stutter out, the words coming out shaky. “it’s just for appearances, for the sake of our careers... it’s not real. i swear, dollface. you have to believe me...” his voice is pleading, desperate even, as he tries to make you understand. the sight of you pulling away is like a punch to his gut, the fear of losing you obvious in his expression.

your frown deepens as his shaky explanation sinks in, but it doesn’t soothe the ache in your chest. instead, his words make the hurt sharper, and your heart feels heavier with each passing second. you take a step back, creating more distance between you, and the pain you’ve been holding inside finally spills over into your voice.

“you didn’t even bother to talk to me about this, satoru,” you say, your voice low but thick with emotion. “i had to find out like everyone else… through the news.”

the weight of your words hangs between you, and the hurt is unmistakable in your tone. your fingers tremble at your sides as you fight back the tears you’ve been holding in. “do you know how that felt? seeing you… like that, with her, and not even having a clue?” you swallow hard, the lump in your throat making it harder to speak. you want to believe him, to hold onto the love you’ve always shared, but the betrayal of being left in the dark cuts deep.

satoru swallows hard, the impact of your words hitting him like a ton of bricks. the guilt on his face is almost tangible as he watches you step away, the hurt and disbelief in your eyes more apparent than ever before. his hands fall to his sides, the helplessness of the situation evident in his expression.

“i...” he starts, his voice trembling a bit, “i wanted to tell you... but i couldn’t...” the excuse sounds hollow even to his own ears, a weak attempt to justify something that shouldn’t have happened. he wants to reach out, to close the distance between you, but he knows that the hurt he’s caused won’t disappear with just a touch. his shoulders slump, his eyes dropping to the ground as he tries to find the right words, but nothing seems right.

“i swear, dollface...” he tries again, his voice barely above a whisper. “it’s not real. she means nothing. you mean everything. you have to believe me... you have to...”

the vulnerability in his gaze is raw and desperate, the pain in his voice mirroring your own. despite the alcohol clouding his thoughts, the fear of losing you is clearer than ever. “i just didn’t want you to be upset.”

a bitter scoff escapes your lips before you can stop it, the sound cutting through the tension in the room like a knife. you cross your arms, the sarcasm lacing your words as you look at him with an almost mocking smile, your emotions spilling out in a rush.

“oh, well now that i know the truth, i’m just sooo happy, baby,” you say, your voice dripping with false enthusiasm. “euphoria, really. thank you for this… for such happiness.”

you let out a sharp laugh, rolling your eyes as your hand moves dramatically to your chest, as if to emphasize how ‘grateful’ you are. your expression is anything but happy, the hurt still etched into your features as you step closer to him, your fingers barely brushing his arm in a gesture that feels more like a mockery than comfort.

“thank you for letting me find out this way,” you continue, your voice faltering slightly beneath the sarcasm, the real pain slipping through your facade. “it’s exactly what i needed.” even as you stand so close, your words create a distance between you both that feels impossible to bridge.

your sarcasm hits him like a slap across the face, your words cutting deep. he flinches, the mixture of hurt and guilt in his eyes almost palpable. your expression is harsh, your smile laced with bitterness, and the false enthusiasm in your tone is a stark contrast to the pain evident in your gaze.

as your fingers brush against his arm, a slight shudder runs through him. he can sense your hurt, the anger behind your mocking expression, and the way you step closer, almost mockingly, only makes him feel worse. “stop…” he murmurs, his voice low and choked with emotion.

“stop it, dollface,” he tries again, his hands reaching out to grab your arms in a desperate attempt to keep you from further pulling away. “please, listen to me... it’s not what you think... i never meant to hurt you…” his voice trembles, the alcohol-fueled emotions leaving him more vulnerable than usual. he can’t stand the way you’re looking at him—with pain and disappointment in your gaze. he wants to fix this, to take it back, but the damage has already been done.

a breathy chuckle escapes you, but there's no warmth in it, only bitterness. you pull away slightly from his grip, your eyes hardening as you meet his pleading gaze. “of course you didn’t mean to hurt me,” you say, your voice low and sharp, “ou’re just a coward, satoru. a coward who only thought about himself.”

your words are harsh, but they flow out before you can stop them, your frustration and heartbreak spilling over. “you didn’t even consider how i’d feel, did you? seeing it in the news, instead of hearing it from you.”

you shake your head, taking a step back as the weight of it all crashes down on you. “you thought you could protect me by keeping me in the dark? you thought it would be easier for me to find out that way?” your voice cracks at the end, the anger you’ve been holding onto breaking under the pressure of your hurt.

you look at him, eyes burning with unshed tears, but you refuse to let them fall. “you always said i was the most important person in your life, but you couldn’t even give me the respect of telling me the truth.”

every word you throw at him feels like a dagger to the heart, each one sharper and more painful than the last. the alcohol has made him weaker, less in control, and your words cut through him, exposing all of his flaws and mistakes.

“i... i just wanted to protect you,” he stammers out, his grip on you loosening, his fingers trembling. “i didn’t want you to worry... i didn’t want to hurt you...” he knows his excuses sound hollow and weak, the guilt weighing heavily on him.

you take another step back, your eyes narrowing as his words hit you, hollow and weak. your heart aches, but anger swells inside you, pushing the sadness deeper. “protect me?” you repeat, your voice low and filled with disbelief. “protect me from what exactly, satoru?”

your gaze hardens as you stare at him, your lips trembling, trying to hold back the rising emotion. “from seeing you pretend to date someone else? from the truth? from feeling anything at all?”

your words cut through the air, and as you stand there, a mixture of hurt and frustration twisting inside you, you realize the weight of what he’s done. “how could you possibly think hiding this from me would make anything better?” your voice cracks slightly, but you swallow down the lump in your throat, refusing to break in front of him.

he winces at the sharpness of your tone, the pain in your voice making him ache. he knows how wrong he was, how stupid his reasoning sounds when confronted with the truth. he tries to find the right words to explain, to make you understand, but everything he thinks of sounds empty and weak.

“i… i thought if i didn’t tell you, you wouldn’t worry…” he answers, his voice low, almost a whisper. “i thought i could handle it… i thought i could keep you out of it…”

“i… i’m so sorry,” he falters, his eyes pleading with you, begging for your forgiveness. “i didn’t want to hurt you… i never wanted to hurt you. i just didn’t want you to worry. i wanted to keep you safe from the bullshit the media loves pushing, and i thought i could handle it on my own… but i was wrong, dollface. i was wrong about everything. please… please don’t hate me…”

your breath hitches, and despite trying to hold it back, the tears finally spill down your cheeks, hot and relentless. you stare at him, your voice trembling as you ask, “did you even think about me when you made that decision, satoru?”

each word carries the weight of your heartbreak, the betrayal sinking deep. your chest feels tight, your mind spinning as you search his face, his eyes—desperately looking for the love that was always there, the love that once felt so undeniable.

but now, standing before him, everything feels fragile, uncertain. “do you even love me?” you whisper, the question breaking you as it leaves your lips. the vulnerability in your voice is raw, and the silence that follows feels deafening.

you search his eyes for the truth, for something—anything—that can make this pain go away. but all you see is a man who hurt you, and you're not sure if he even knows how much.

the moment your question leaves your lips, you see the change in satoru's expression. it's as if the words struck him harder than any blow ever could. the haze of alcohol vanishes from his eyes, replaced by a raw, searing pain. for a split second, he looks shattered, but then, in an instant, his jaw tightens, and you can see anger flicker across his face.

“you are joking, right?” his voice is low, almost incredulous as he stares at you, his blue eyes sharper than before. “don’t you dare question my love for you.” his tone grows more intense, almost desperate, his hands reaching for you again. “i love you more than anything. more than anyone. everything i do, i do for you.”

his frustration simmers just below the surface, and you can feel it in his grip, his voice trembling not from the alcohol but from emotion. “how can you even ask me that after everything we’ve been through? i’ve given you everything i have—my heart, my life, my soul—and you think i don’t love you?”

he searches your eyes, his gaze pleading, desperate for you to understand, to believe him. but beneath that anger, you can still feel the weight of his guilt, the fear that you might not.

he takes another step towards you, closing the small gap between you. his hands tighten around your arms, his fingers digging into your skin as if he's afraid to let you go. “don’t you dare question my love for you,” he repeats, his voice low and intense. “i would never… i would never hurt you if i didn’t have to, dollface. you have to believe me.”

he looks at you, something between desperation and anger in his eyes, as if he’s begging you to see past the lie, to understand that he loves you more than anything in the world.

you've never seen him like this before—almost feral in his desperation to make you believe him. he's always been controlled, composed, but the thought of losing you has cracked that façade. he looks lost, raw, and desperate for you to see that he loves you, more than life itself.

your voice breaks as you softly ask, “then why are you doing this, satoru?” your words come out between the sobs, fragile and laced with the kind of pain that cuts deeper than any wound.

his grip tightens slightly, his fingers pressing into your skin, but you barely feel it, consumed by the flood of emotion. the tears continue streaming down your face, each one a reflection of the confusion, the heartbreak, the betrayal you feel.

“if you love me… why?” your voice is a whisper now, almost pleading, as if you're hoping for an answer that will make all of this hurt go away. you look up at him, searching for something, anything that will make sense of this, but all you see is the same mix of guilt and desperation in his eyes.

you want to believe him, to believe in the love you once thought was unshakable, but right now, all you can feel is the ache in your chest, the sharp sting of doubt that you never imagined you'd have to face.

“god damn it, dollface,” he mutters, his voice choked with emotion. “how can i make you believe me? how can i show you that i love you more than anything? i’d move mountains, i’d burn the world down…”

he leans forward, his forehead now touching yours, as he tries to get you to see the truth in his eyes. his voice is low and intense, his hands tighten around your arms, desperate to hold onto you, to make you understand how much he loves you.

the sight of your tears, the sound of your voice cracking with emotion, cuts through him like a knife. he reaches up to wipe away your tears, his touch gentle despite the intensity in his eyes. he can see the skepticism, the doubt in your eyes, and it only fuels his desperation.

“i would do anything for you, dollface,” he murmurs, his voice cracking. “anything. i’d give up everything, i’d burn the world down if it would make you believe me. just tell me what to do. tell me, and i’ll do it.”

you meet his gaze, searching his eyes for something—anything—that could make the pain go away. his words echo in your mind, the promise of doing anything for you, but it all feels so distant, unreachable. the hurt inside you runs too deep, and no matter how much you want to push it away, it keeps creeping in, clouding your thoughts.

your chest feels tight, and the silence stretches between you, heavy and suffocating. after a moment, your head falls against his chest, the steady beat of his heart only making the ache in yours worse. you stay like that, in the quiet, trying to think of what you want—what you need—but it’s too much. the hurt, the betrayal, it’s all too overwhelming.

with a shaky breath, you push him away gently, your hands trembling as you do. “i need some time,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper, but firm. “i need to be alone for a while.”

his hands drop from your arms, his eyes widening slightly as you take a step back. you don’t meet his gaze again as you add, “i’ll sleep in the next room... for now.” and without waiting for a response, you turn and walk away, the weight of your decision pressing down on you with every step you take.

as the door closes behind you, the silence in the room is deafening, leaving only the sound of your heart pounding in your ears.

satoru stares at the door, his hand still outstretched, his mind struggling to process what just happened. the room feels empty without you in it, the silence is deafening, and the weight of what he’s done crashes down on him. he sinks onto the couch, his head in his hands, the full impact of your request—your need to be alone—hitting him with a force he didn’t expect.

he’s never been without you before, not like this. the thought of you being alone in the next room, your hurt, your pain... it’s almost too much to bear.

he sits like that, motionless, for what feels like hours, his mind a maelstrom of emotions. regret, guilt, worry, desperation—it’s all there, swirling together in a toxic mix that feels like it’s tearing him apart.

he thinks about going to you, of trying to make you understand, to apologize, to do anything to make things right. but deep down, he knows that you need this, that he needs to give you this time, even if it’s the hardest thing he’s ever had to do.

the front door creaks open, and you hear it close with a soft thud, followed by the sound of a car pulling away. you sit on the edge of the bed, your heart heavy as silence envelops the room. tears stream down your face, each drop a reminder of the pain from the night before. despite the exhaustion weighing down on you, sleep eludes you as the memories replay in your mind, the hurtful words echoing like a haunting refrain.

eventually, the weight of your emotions takes its toll, and you succumb to sleep, your body finally giving in to the fatigue that has consumed you.

when you awaken, the sunlight filters through the curtains, casting a warm glow in the room. glancing at the clock, you realize it’s nearly noon. the realization hits you hard—satoru hasn’t returned. a pang of hurt slices through you as you consider that he left without even saying goodbye.

as you move to the kitchen, a swirl of worry settles in your chest. where did he go? did he sleep well? did he eat anything? the questions multiply, and the thought of him with someone else makes your stomach churn. you can’t shake the image of him with utahime, the fear gnawing at you like a relentless predator.

you pour yourself a cup of coffee, the familiar scent providing a momentary comfort amidst the chaos of your thoughts. as you sip slowly, your mind races through countless scenarios—what if he’s out drinking again? what if he’s hurting? the worry overwhelms you, threatening to pull you under.

just as you’re lost in your thoughts, you hear the unmistakable sound of keys clattering onto the kitchen counter. your heart races as you blink, trying to process the moment. slowly, you turn your head, and there he is—satoru.

he stands in the doorway, his disheveled appearance a stark contrast to the confident man you know. his blue eyes, usually so vibrant, are ringed with redness and framed by dark circles, a testament to a sleepless night. his silver hair is tousled, sticking up in all directions as if he’s just rolled out of bed.

“satoru…” your voice comes out as a whisper, the mix of relief and apprehension washing over you. he shifts on his feet, looking vulnerable and exposed, the weight of unspoken apologies hanging heavily in the air.

“i… i’m back,” he says, his voice hoarse and shaky. he takes a hesitant step towards you, the air thick with tension as he searches your face for any sign of how you’re feeling.

you stand there, coffee cup cradled in your hands, unsure of how to react. the memories of the previous night flash through your mind—his hurtful act, your tears. despite the urge to run to him, to wrap your arms around him and forget everything, a part of you holds back.

satoru stands there, his heart thumping loudly in his chest as he watches the myriad of emotions play across your face. he looks weary, exhausted—physically, emotionally, mentally. the distance between you feels like an ocean, the air heavy with tension and unsaid apologies. he can see the war raging in your eyes, the hesitation—the doubt. and it hurts, more than he thought possible.

he takes another step forward, his hand reaching out slightly, hovering in the air as if he’s afraid to touch you, to cross that invisible line that’s been drawn between you.

he opens his mouth to speak, his mind racing through everything he could say—everything he wants to say. he wants to apologize, to explain, to make things right. he wants to hold you, to be held by you, to be close to you again. but the words seem to evaporate before they even reach his lips.

finally, he simply says your name. just your name. and the way it falls off his tongue is like a plea, a silent plea for you to understand, to forgive.

your heart races as you look up at him, his tired eyes filled with guilt and longing. the way he says your name—soft, almost reverent—feels like a plea for understanding, a desperate attempt to bridge the chasm that has formed between you. but despite the sincerity in his gaze, the memory of last night lingers, a painful reminder of betrayal.

when he takes your hand, the warmth of his touch sends a jolt through you. you want to feel comforted, to lean into him and forget the hurt, but the thought of him pretending to be with another girl cuts deep. the mere idea of it feels like a heavy weight pressing down on your chest, suffocating you.

“i… i don’t think i can stand it,” you whisper, your voice trembling as you struggle to keep your emotions in check. “seeing you with someone else in public... pretend to be all couple.”

satoru's heart clenches at your words, the pain in your voice slicing through him like a knife. he knew it was coming, knew you’d bring it up. it’s just one of the many things he’s been dreading this morning. but hearing it from you, seeing the look in your eyes, it makes everything so much more real, so much more painful.

he tightens his grip on your hand, his thumb tracing small circles on your skin, an attempt to soothe, to comfort. “i know,” he responds, his voice almost a whisper.

satoru's heart aches as he sees the hurt in your eyes, the pain mirrored in your expression. the weight of your words hangs heavy in the air, a stark reminder of the chasm that has grown between you. he takes a deep breath, trying to steady himself, to gather his thoughts.

“that’s why,” he begins, his voice barely above a whisper, “i spoke to the company earlier.” he pauses, searching your gaze for understanding. “they were furious.”

he cups your cheek gently with his free hand, the warmth of his palm a stark contrast to the cold reality of the situation. “i never wanted you to be caught in the crossfire of all this,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. “the pressure… the expectations… i just thought it would be easier if we kept it private. but i see now how wrong that was.”

his thumb brushes softly against your skin, an attempt to convey the depth of his remorse. “i was so focused on protecting you that I forgot what you really needed—transparency, honesty. i wanted to shield you from the chaos, but instead, I just pushed you away.” satoru’s eyes search yours, filled with regret and determination. “i’ll do whatever it takes to make this right. i’ll fight for us, even if it means facing the wrath of the company. i want to be open about us, to show the world how much you mean to me.”

you blink in surprise, confusion flooding your mind as you process his words. “what do you mean you spoke to the company?” you ask, your voice wavering slightly. “wwhat did they say?”

but before he can respond, satoru turns on the tv, and your heart drops at the sight of him. he looks so different—disheveled, exhausted, eyes red-rimmed, as if he hasn’t slept in days. the conference is chaotic, the flashing lights of cameras blinding as reporters hurl questions at him, but he stands there, unwavering.

you stare at the screen, completely stunned. your eyes flicker from the television back to satoru, who stands quietly beside you. the image of him on the screen—a mess of disheveled hair, red eyes, and exhaustion—contrasts sharply with the composed, confident man you know. your heart pounds as you take in what’s unfolding before you: the rumors, the flashing cameras, his raw vulnerability on full display.

the conference is chaotic. journalists fire rapid questions at him, flashes of light bursting in quick succession, but satoru doesn’t waver. he remains steadfast, repeating only one thing—that the rumors aren’t true, that he’s had a girlfriend for years. you feel a lump in your throat, your chest tightening with emotion as the realization sets in. he did this… for you.

you turn to him, your voice shaky, barely above a whisper, “satoru… why you did all of this…?”

he doesn’t speak immediately, just watches you, his expression soft yet filled with a mixture of guilt and hope. slowly, he nods, his thumb still brushing gently over your hand. “i couldn’t let you think for one more second that i’d ever choose anyone else over you,” he murmurs, his voice hoarse from everything he’s been through. “i had to do something… anything to show you.”

your eyes well up with tears again, but this time it’s not from pain or anger. you’re overwhelmed, touched by how far he’s gone to try and fix this. “but you didn’t have to—” you start, but he cuts you off, shaking his head.

“yes, i did,” he insists. “i needed to prove it. not just with words, but with action. i’m not letting you walk away thinking i’d ever betray you like that.”

satoru's gaze is intense, his eyes fixed on you as he continues, “i couldn’t let you think for a second that i'd even entertain the thought of being with someone else. you mean everything to me, and i had to make a statement, a public one, because i can’t bear the thought of you doubting that. not for a second.”

“i know i messed up,” he continues, his voice filled with a mixture of regret and determination, “but i swear to you, i’ll never do anything to hurt you on purpose ever again.”

your heart races as you absorb his words, a whirlwind of emotions flooding your mind. the intensity of his gaze makes you feel both cherished and guilty. the weight of the situation settles heavily on your shoulders, and you can’t shake the feeling that you might be the cause of turmoil in his life.

you swallow hard, your throat dry as you find your voice. “but what about your series?” you ask, anxiety creeping into your tone. “what happens now? you just… put everything on the line for me?” the guilt gnaws at you, and you can't help but worry that your struggles might ruin his career. “satoru, i didn’t want this to affect you. i thought you’d want to keep things private to avoid backlash.”

the thought of him facing consequences for his public declaration sends a shiver down your spine. you look at him, your eyes wide with concern. “what did they say? are they going to fire you? or change the series because of this?” his silence hangs in the air, and you brace yourself for his answer, anxiety wrapping around your heart like a vise.

satoru’s eyes soften even further as he looks down at you, his hand still holding yours, but his grip has tightened slightly. he’s clearly nervous—nervous about what he has to say next, nervous about how you’ll react.

he takes a deep breath before responding, his voice measured and controlled. “i’m not getting fired, dollface.” his words, though relieving, don’t seem to quell the anxiety in your eyes. it’s clear that there’s more to the story, and he can see that you’re bracing for the worst.

satoru watches your expression shift from worry to confusion, then a flicker of understanding as he continues. “they just decided to kill me off in the middle of the second season,” he says, forcing a smile, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He chuckles lightly, trying to lighten the mood. “the writer never really liked me anyway.”

he sees the way your brows furrow, and his heart aches for you. he wants to ease your concerns, to show you that his world isn’t crumbling because of this. “it’s all part of the plan,” he adds, his tone playful, even if the situation isn’t exactly ideal. “maybe i’ll get a dramatic comeback. who doesn’t love a good resurrection arc, right?”

he cups your nape gently, his thumb brushing along your skin as he leans down to place a tender kiss on your forehead. “i’d do it a million times over for you, you know? i’d take the hit if it means you feel secure in my love. No one else matters more than you.”

as he pulls back slightly, he searches your gaze, hoping to see a hint of reassurance that you understand his intentions. he wants you to feel loved and protected, no matter the chaos that surrounds them.

your heart feels heavy as you gaze up at satoru, the weight of your worry settling deep in your chest. “are you sure about this?” you ask softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “i don’t want to be the person who ruins your career.”

the concern in your eyes reflects the turmoil inside you, the fear that your feelings and insecurities could jeopardize everything he’s worked so hard for. you search his face for any sign of doubt, but all you find is unwavering determination.

satoru’s expression shifts, and he gently squeezes your hand, trying to convey his certainty. “dollface, you could never ruin my career,” he reassures you, his voice steady and calm. “if anything, you’re the reason i want to fight for it. i don’t care what they think or what the company says. my love for you is worth any backlash i might face.”

he leans closer, his forehead resting against yours, grounding you both in the moment. “i’d rather give it all up than let you feel like you’re the problem. you are my priority, and nothing will ever change that.” his blue eyes search yours, pleading for you to believe him, to trust that he’s all in.

your heart pounds in your chest as satoru’s words sink in, the rawness of his vulnerability hitting you like a tidal wave. his career, his reputation, his future—he’s willing to risk all of it for you, and the weight of that sacrifice leaves you reeling.

you look at him, the love and determination evident in his eyes, and you struggle to find the words to express the mixture of gratitude and guilt churning inside you. you don’t want to be the one causing ripples in his world, but his steadfast resolve makes it impossible to deny the intensity of his feelings.

satoru notices the turmoil in your expression, the way your brow furrows with guilt as you process his words. it cuts through him like a knife, the thought that you might still feel responsible for any turmoil in his life. he can’t stand to see you in pain, especially not when it’s tied to his choices.

he takes a deep breath, trying to ease your mind. “hey,” he says gently, tilting your chin up so your eyes meet his, “i’ve got a few offers for new series and movies lined up. i’m not in danger of losing everything, i promise. they’re just waiting for me to finish this one.”

a small, reassuring smile crosses his face, one that he hopes will lift some of the weight off your shoulders. “this is just a bump in the road, and i’m more than capable of handling it. what matters is you. i need you to know that I’ll always choose you, no matter what.”

he leans in closer, his eyes searching yours, filled with sincerity. “we’ll figure this out together, okay? you’re not a burden; you’re my motivation.”

your heart squeezes at satoru's words, your chest tightening with a mix of emotions. the guilt, the worry, the love—it's all flooding through you, leaving you feeling vulnerable and exposed. but in that vulnerability, you also see the depth of his devotion, his unwavering commitment to you.

“but… i don’t want you to choose,” you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “i don't want you to feel like you have to sacrifice your career... because of me.”

satoru hums softly at your words, the sound reverberating with warmth as he processes your concerns. with a gentle yet deliberate motion, he lifts you to sit on the counter, his hands steadying you as your thighs rest against the cool surface. he positions himself closer, his forehead resting against the counter beside your body, effectively caging you in.

“i can’t sacrifice you for my career either,” he says, his voice low and earnest, the intensity of his gaze locking onto yours. “you’re the one thing i won’t compromise on. i’d give up everything for you, even if it meant starting over. no job, no series, nothing could ever mean more to me than you.”

his expression is fierce, a combination of determination and vulnerability that makes your heart race. “so please, don’t worry about me. we’re in this together. we’ll figure it out side by side, and i’ll make sure you never feel like you’re standing in the way of my dreams.”

as you look into his eyes, the depth of his words washes over you, and a warmth spreads through your chest. you wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer, needing the reassurance of his presence. the feel of his warmth against you brings a sense of comfort, a connection that calms the storm of emotions swirling inside you.

“i just… i don’t want to be the reason for your struggles,” you murmur, your voice thick with emotion. “i care about you so much, satoru. i want you to shine, to succeed, and to be happy.”

holding him tightly, you feel the tension in his body ease as he leans into you, his breath mingling with yours. “i know we’ll figure this out together,” you whisper, your heart swelling with love. “but promise me you won’t carry this weight alone. we’re a team, right?”

satoru’s eyes flutter shut as he absorbs your words, a mixture of gratitude and relief washing over him. your unwavering support and love are like a balm on his weary soul, and he melts into your embrace, his head resting on your shoulder.

“together,” he affirms, his voice a whisper against your skin. “you’re not just my partner; you’re my foundation. you give me the strength to face anything, good or bad. we’re in this together, and no one, not even the company, can come between us.”

he lifts his head, his eyes studying your face. “you’re not a burden or an inconvenience, dollface. you’re my priority, my everything. i may have an image to uphold, but nothing is worth more than your happiness, your comfort. i’d take on the world for you if i have to.”

a flicker of vulnerability passes across his face. “just promise me that you’ll keep communicating with me. if you ever feel like you’re in my way or like you’re causing me trouble, i need—no, i want you to tell me, okay?”

a warm smile spreads across your face at his words, the sincerity in his eyes soothing the lingering doubts in your mind. you nod, feeling a rush of affection for him. “okay,” you mumble softly, your voice filled with reassurance.

a wave of visible relief washes over satoru’s face as you agree to his request. the tension in his body eases visibly, and he reaches up to gently brush a strand of hair away from your face.

“thank you,” he whispers, his hand resting on your cheek. “i just... i need to know that you’re okay, that we’re okay. that, even when things are messy, we’re still you and me. always.”

you nod, a soft smile still gracing your lips as you gently cup his cheeks in your hands. feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your palms, you lean in closer, your heart racing in anticipation.

satoru’s heart races at the touch of your hands against his cheeks, the warmth of your palms sending electric currents through his body. your lips meet his, a sense of peace washes over you, the world around you fading into the background. it’s a sweet, tender kiss, filled with unspoken promises and the depth of your feelings for him. as your lips meet his, he savors the taste of you, melting into the kiss like a man starved.

you pull back slightly, your foreheads resting against each other, and whisper, “always,” letting the word linger in the air between you, a vow that encapsulates everything you both cherish. it’s a simple word, but it carries the weight of your love, a reminder that no matter the chaos, you’ll always find your way back to each other.

satoru feels the weight of your promise like a gentle caress. a content smile spreads across his face as he brushes his nose against yours, a whisper of affectionate laughter escaping his lips.

“always,” he repeats quietly, his blue eyes sparkling with love. “me and you.”

[yunimayie]

#POUNDT0WN (2 death) ?!

—#info. thinking about dubcon scenarios. . . ; chuuya, dazai (sep)

—#warnings. x fem!reader | nsfw content (mdni) | not edited | dubcon, sex virus (dazai), chocolate aphrodisiacs (chuuya), no protection/rawing, p->v, mean dom charas x sub reader (woohoo!), heavy degradation, humiliation, a bunch of positions i won't go over, marathon sex, multiple rounds, multiple orgasms, and whatnot.

—#love, may. i was absolutely geeked while writing this. ehuhu iykm by my writing, hiiii.... i am baaack.... 💦 im posting thid then crsshing outttt!! PSADJDNS!!!@ on a side note, i need to start following other blogs again to reconnect to ppl 😭 i just don't know who's opened to be bothered atm

—#streaming. pound town 2 😝

⁰⁰¹DAZAI—sex virus

" 'Donna.." Dazai whispers behind you, arms supporting him as he rocked his body rhythmically. "Yeah?" You look behind, stopping in your tracks to sway with him. He grins, stepping aside to waddle around you—now standing in front of him was your confused figure. "Lookie here," he holds up a thermometer he stole from Yosano's clinic, "and open your mouth".

You look at him weirdly, but do as he says nevertheless. He padded the tip onto your tongue, waiting for the reading to be finished. the screen blinks once, twice—"Aw damn, you're not sick..." He mutters quietly.

"Has anyone seen Dazai?" You hear Yosanos' muffled question through the door you were currently pressed against. Loud murmurs echo down the corridor, and up the office area where most of the agency lounged at. "Uh oh.." Dazai's voice, breathy and quiet, peers above you. His thumb massages your waist, the languid action nearly made you sob as he held you still. "Did'ya hear that? She's looking for us."

Us, implying him only. His cock rocks slowly, your arousal seeping everywhere onto the floor as he moves. Your lips part, close to letting loose noise that'll get you two caught. His hand was quick to cover your mouth, "Nah-uh..! Keep quiet or she'll find us". He peeped, his voice balanced the edge of urgency and collective coolness. His body was hot—almost feverish to an extent.

As the chatter got louder, the laughter of a certain someone's snicker was enough to tell you; they knew. Or at least he did.

"Osam- uhnn..!" Tou moan through your teeth, his cock piercing your insides with a sharp annotation of silence. Dazai uses his free hand to pat your stomach, the gesture endearing and humiliating at the same time. "Your noises are like the tune of a birds song my dear. Unfortunately we need to stay silent before the teachers' pet snitches' to our lovely school nurse." He says while punching his cock up your gut.

Your body stiffens under his hold, your hips lifting itself to meet him as you fell limp to his mercy. "Do you hear yourself?" He chuckles to himself, "squealin' so cute! What's next? A waterfall?" Like the prophet next door, your cunt convulses—pussy gushing out your orgasm as you cum. The slick that puddles beneath you and Dazai pings another cord inside him. You were sure his cum was starting to foam up with how relentless he was behaving, using his cock to plug everything in while he whisks your insides to batter.

"C-can't!" Your eyes roll back, "Osaamu..! Mhnn--! I - I just came!!" You damn near screamed from the chambers of the enclosed bathroom. He expressed a sad smile that you can feel, the chitter of the air frowns upon your panic. "Okay." He says solemnly. Unexpected and uncharacteristic of him to just agree with whatever you say.

There always had to be a condition that benefited him, and you had yet to find out what he was planning on the spot. Instead of letting you dwell on that thought any further, Razai strokes your walls with long, slow thrusts. "Could've sworn he was just standing near utility." Yosanos' mutter brings you back some lucidity with the click of her heels.

Before you could react appropriately, your body jolts down, impaling yourself further onto his cock. "Oh fuck -!" Dazai curses in your ear, his breath ragged and sloppy. His hands catch you, stabilizing the two of you while his thrusts felt like never-ending. "Keep still." He barked into your ear. " 'M sorryy..!" You hiccup an apology. Dazai didn't need you ruining his initial plan, but...

"Oh doctor, doctorrr!" He sang, knocking the door to alert Yosano. Your eyes went wide—what the fuck was he doing!? Your palm reaches your mouth as the sound of her heels near the bathroom. "Dazai?" She calls from the other side, another knock echoing a gentle lullaby into your ear. "Oh! Yosano!" He pants out loud, giving himself away.

You spun your head in a hurry, a glare etching its way onto your fucked out face. Don't make a sound, he mouths, a sly grin eating you up.

"Dazai? – Oh my gosh..." Yosano groans once she realizes his little predicament. "You're not supposed to be here, Dazai – you're fucking sick! go home!"

"But Yosano-kun..!" Dazai damn near whines into the small cracks that allow air to flow. "As you know, I—oh— am a little occupied."

"Doing what? Fucking your hand? Get out and go home." She sighs, "Thank goodness you haven't caught [Name] yet.." A mutter made way, a giggle from Dazai confirming her belief. "You're right! Wouldn't know what I'd do with [Name] around. Probably fuck her cute cunt like this."

His hips snap forward, your eyes bulging just as big as your stomach. "Mhnn - hmpp..!!" A muffled cry escapes before you can stop it. "Shshh.. No noise, remember?" He dumbifies his wording, acting as if you were an idiot who forgot they were dead. His cock buried itself deep inside, your walls molding it to the base like a silicone wrap.

"Dirty talking your hand isn't gonna help you, fyi." She mumbles.

Your eyebrows are pinched together, proof of your will trying its damn hardest not to blow it. "Aye ma'am.." He says in a scathing tone, his grip on the door slipping as he bundles your flesh in the other. By now, the whole frame was trembling with immense force, it forced Yosano to back up a bit. "Can you not break the agencys' door? Unless you're alright with it being taken out of your pay."

Your breath became ragged, heavy, deep heaving took over your circulation as your body shook from your anticipated orgasm. "Os-ah-Osamu..! G-gonna—Eeen!!" A particularly harsh thrust came into contact with your bundle of nerves, starting a chain reaction of your weary fears.

Dazai's fingers collide with your lips, stretching them open, restricting your jaw movement as you let out a blood curdling scream that rivals a piglets' cry. Dazai huddled your body close to him, a bite to your shoulder indicating his own orgasm threatening to lodge itself inside you even more. "Ghmnm—[Nameee], you feel amaziiing..!" He gurgles a combination of choice words like he didn't just thoroughly humiliate you in front of your coworker a few seconds ago.

What came next wasn't a surprise to you, Yosano, or anyone else standing outside with her for the matter.

Couple of thrusts later, and he's emptying his load into the canister with no regard to your puffy, stuffed cunt. A squeal escapes your throat as your cunt clenched with vigor, milking him for all he's worth while white heavy spurts join the puddle below. He pants right above your shoulder, catching his breath.

He falls back slowly, lifting his weight off your shaking figure. "You okay?" He asks, helping your exhausted body stabilize on its feet. You grumble, "Tired. hot.. and–wait."

Your head did a whole spin, the cheeky smile your boyfriend always wore whenever he got caught doing something a toddler would do, was present. "Sorry..."

"Osamu," You pressed him for information. He says nothing.

You felt your eyebrow twitch in annoyance; of course he fucking did. His arms tightened around you, a malicious smirk coming forth. "Since we're both very sickly and in need of sex-induced release – how 'bout we–".

Large, rounded bangs pounded the door, "Get the hell out you two! Gross!" Yosano shouts from the other side, her heels clacking away as she mutters something about; 'This is what that virus does to a person or two, Atsushi'.

⁰⁰²𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀—endurance training

A box was dropped in front of you; heart shaped with a beautiful red bow tied to the side. "What's this for?" You quiz, untying the lace and lifting the lid. The milky chocolate laid bare in each hole, about six total. "For you to keep up," He shrugs nonchalantly, toneless as he picks two up and held it to your lips.

Smack—smack, smack, "Chuuya..ah—c-can't..!"

"Don't give me that crap." Chuuya grits his teeth, an arm holding you up with ease while the other delivers a harsh blow to your ass. "I gave you two—no, insisted on two," He tugs you down harshly, impaling you on his cock more. A choked moan feverishly escapes your throat as your body was being pinned and mercilessly used like an artifical, doll-like fleshlight. "But—" His voice was heavy, uncaring of his harsh words, "What did you say?" Chuuya's voice was condescending, an exact mimic of your previous mockery that was far too late to retract now.

"What—" smack "—d'you—" smack "—say?" Two consecutive harsh thrusts brought you back to reality. "I- ah- I- s-said.." His thrusts never slowed, a harsh reminder that you got yourself into this mess. "Said what?" Another slap to your ass. By now you were sure your bum was as red as the chimney downstairs—puffy and sure to loosen up the more it's used. "Said..!–T-that I can h-handle..! You—ohnnn!!" A cry, that echoed nothing. feeling pity for your struggle, Chuuya paces himself, allowing you to catch your breath while still maintaining a light tempo that has you dancing on the edge.

"Can you?" He sneers, his stupid smirk doubling down as one grand tease. Stupid! Stupid, stupid, stupid—! "Don't look at me like that." Chuuya laughs, catching your lips in a kiss. His own caught your whines in a net of darkness, swallowing them like a whale-shark eating plankton. "Fuck," He mumbles—staring adoringly at the way your tears paint your face, "Hot as hell, aren't ya' babe?" He pushes you both off the wall, stumbling back a bit from the instability.

Sinking to his knees with you in tow, you're seated gracefully on his lap—cockwarming him. Your back meets the wall again, the cool area turning warmer as you're pushed and squished against it, Chuuya's body trapping you with room to barely breathe. His arms cage you in, rocking his hips back and forth to simulate friction. "Chuuu—ah! Please—" You beg, his humiliation ritual going as far to bring tears to your pretty eyes. He hums expectantly, using two fingers to lift your head up by your chin—kissing them away like the tooth fairy excitedly placing silver coins under a childs' pillow.

His grinding comes to a stop as he takes your hand in his, lips meeting your knuckles. "Want me to stop?" He intertwined yours with his, "We don't have to do this sweetheart." He coddled, docile, and firm in standing by your decision. Chuuya knew he could be a bit much sometimes—specifically during sex—but he knew you inside out, even your limits and how much he can take from you. You wipe your own tears, determined to see this challenge through, "No...give me another one—" Fuck it to hell. you desired to keep up, match his tempo, and force him into the same overstimulating orgasm that keeps you on your toes when his cock bumps that sensitive nerve in you.

His eyes widen, radiant eyes eager to follow suit in your new adventurous game. But...yet again, you were just sobbing into his chest—Chuuya! Chuuya! I can't handle it! How was he supposed to put his poor baby through hell again when he just brought you out of it? Well, the answer may surprise him, and boy did it shock the hell out of him.

You start humping, stumping Chuuya for a moment for you to push him down and pin his arms to the side of his head. Crawling above his entire torso, your arms were barely long enough to reach the small round table holding the box of aphrodisiacs hostage. In all your glory, Chuuya finds your little stunt remarkable for someone as unathletic as you were—giving your theatrics a mediocre rating though.

You swallow another, barely chewed and still practically in solid condition. Its' effect was slow to start, allowing Chuuya to reposition his hands onto you, his cock sliding in between your thighs. "Wow, that was spectacular babe," he jokes, "teach me how to do shit like that. I wanna be a gymnast too."

"Shut up." The imaginary holes your glare dug out was almost visible to him. He pats your hip, all apologetic like he meant it. His touch sent cold shivers in waves through your body—goosebumps evident from the way his hand felt cooler than your body. "Hmm.. oh what's this?" His cock teased your entrance, rubbing himself in the warmth of your thighs. His tip was beading precum, white oozing just a bit to get you sticky.

"Do you know what you do to me?" He pumps his cock back a few times before spreading your legs wide and plunging his head deeeep into your pussy. "Gggouuuhhh—!" Your whole head flew backwards, landing softly onto his shoulder.

"Chu—ah—uya! My, I'm—!" Your body was on fire, the intensity of the sudden rush threw you into a loop. You couldn't stop yourself from cumming the moment he thrusted inside, it was euphoric, even as he was chasing his own high in discount to your sensitive body. He's quick to switch out his hands for his arms, launching his feet to give him slight momentum. Chuuya has you on your stomach, getting a close grip to your scalp as he yanked your head up, tears jittering down your face from the nonstop pleasure. Your lips are captured into another kiss, the residue of the chocolate on your teeth taking flight. He memos a small note at the back of his mind, the subtle flavor of the chocolate, after breaking the kiss.

The flaming pit in his abdomen has grown stronger, hotter—despite the quick motion. For the first time throughout your entire session, Chuuya quietly moans into your neck, his breath fanning an area that was more prone to sensitivity than others—coincidentally overlapping with yours, more loudly.

Jesus; Chuuya felt like your cunt was threatening him with extortion. Every jab his cock made, churned your stomach inside out, the once tight wedge he had to prep was fully turned into a broken dam that was rummaged through. There was a twitch. And another, then another— "Shiiit—hold on, I- I'm alsooo—ghnn..!" His groan was gruff, thin but still hold the weight of an undertone whine. You felt wrung up, his arms wrapped around your entire waist, hugging you closer.

Chuuya's body felt just as hot, if not more, than yours by this point. A smooth, creamy glaze bursts your thought bubble, all rational action is snubbed as soon as he pulls out, "Chuuyyaa!!" You cried. He was nasty, finishing himself off in between your thighs rather than together. "Nonono!!—Pleeease!!" Your sobs sound like the cruel one to him. Tacky, always crying to get whatever you wanted—how manipulative you could be to him, should he deny you any princess care.

"One sec, darl'." He continues, pausing every now and then to check up on you. His cheeks were so red, damn was he feeling the effects now, preventing him from toying with your screaming sex any longer. "Ugh—! Oh, [Name]—Sweetheart, you kn—oghn—ow—Haa..Fuck!!" He slides his dick in between your thighs one last time, "You drive me absolutely—In—mgh!—sane..!" And that was his breaking point. As your pussy gaps around nothing while you arch your back, Chuuya positioned his cock to your entrance, and pistoned upwards, his cum filling the scene of the crime he left to rot in the woods.

Only this time, you managed to keep up.

GASPPPP—i am so sad. i lost the ability to write for more than 2 charas 😭😭💔

erm. here was supposed to be oda's little part :'D ദ്ദി! was also gonna write a section for fyodor + nikolai but i just couldn't .... gonna have to update my lil req part to be "2 charas max"

💀i have gone from fic pumper to having dead fingers. the quality of my writing went down significantly a lot..

[riekirei]

cologne — nishimura riki

something about your scent just had riki hooked, addicted to you.

pairing: boyfriend!riki x afab!reader | genre(s): suggestive, sorta fluff | content/warning: reader is a uni student, kisses everywhere, hickeys, skinship, hands under clothes

word count: 739

[requested]

author’s note: i worked on this pretty fast. i think it took me likee 20 mins which is alr fast for me. lmk if i missed any warnings and if you guys wanna read more works like this. (not proofread)

[🎧 now playing: cologne by beabadobee]

you were sitting on the long couch that was set right by the tv with riki, tucked into a single throw blanket that covered the both of you. it was an insanely busy week for you in the middle of november. the fall semester’s end had been coming closer and finals week was approaching, and you needed to get your work done. sitting atop your lap was your macbook with around a million tabs opened for the dozens of assignments you had to submit. 

the click sounds your keyboard made were heard alongside the movie that was playing on the tv. with riki’s head rested on your shoulder while his eyes were fixed onto the scenes in the movie you two were watching, he couldn’t help but notice on how you were no longer watching the movie, but completing the lengthy tasks you had to do. 

riki turned his head towards your laptop screen as his eyes skimmed through the data you’ve written down. “y/n, what’s that? i thought we were supposed to be watching?” he asked you. with your eyes and mind concentrated on the paper you were trying to get done, you respond to riki after a few seconds (you sucked at multitasking and didn’t even notice he was asking you something sooo) “i’mmm…. just trying to get this done. this will be really quick, i promise.” you said. riki watched you as you did your work, but it definitely wasn’t quick. 

he got bored and shifted himself closer to your body, still waiting for you to finish. he wrapped his arms around your torso as he slid his hands under the white long-sleeved top you had on. with riki snuggled onto you, he couldn’t help but bring his face closer to your neck, and as he did, he smelt a familiar scent right behind your ear. the sweet notes of cherry blossom, mimosa, and mandarin lingered through the air he was breathing in. riki then placed a kiss on your neck, he just couldn’t get enough. “ki~ hold onnn. please let me finish this paper baby~” you said, playfully pushing his chest back. he found his way back onto your neck, planting kisses all over it. his pink, plump lips trailed down onto your collarbone, sucking on your soft skin, leaving traces and spots of red, purple, and somehow yellow marks everywhere. 

“babyy, i need to-“ you tried to say before a subtle moan escaped your lips, with riki sucking the same spot repeatedly. you continue with your words “i need to get extra marks on this assignment. let me do my work first ki, then we can- wait shit-“ you then tossed your head back and let out a moan once more. “the only marks you’re getting are the ones on your neck, y/n” riki says. he gives you a peck on the lips before he continued to kiss your neck. he placed his hand on your nape, using the other one to shut your laptop down, pushing it aside. 

this wasn’t a first, it definitely wasn’t. every time you did your school work, errands, household chores, or at least tried to, he’d always find his way into bringing your focus onto him. 

you stood up from the couch and discarded the throw blanket that covered the two of you in an attempt to get riki off of you. “kiii~” you said in a whiny tone, still trying to push him off. you tried walking, but he just couldn’t let go of your touch, your voice, your smell, of you. he followed you from behind to the kitchen, where you tried heading in escape of him. his hands were around your torso with his chest pressed against your back. he brought his head onto your shoulder, taking in your scent.

you walked towards one of the cabinets, going on your tip-toes to grab a cup, but as you were opening the cabinet door, riki shuts it back. he then swiftly turns you around, where your eyes locked with his. you jumped up on the counter. now face to face with riki, you kissed his lips which were previously all over you, caressing his cheek and pushing aside the strands of hair that sat on his face. he pulled you in closer as the kiss grew messy. your hands were now holding his shoulders from behind, locking you two into the position you were in while you wrapped your legs around his slender torso.

“still want to do that paper, baby?”

“i’d do you instead.”

[oneforthemunny]

how you like them apples |cowboy!eddie munson x reader|

prompt: you surprise eddie with his favorite fall treat, and, oh, is he surprised.

since i'm feeling so fall, i decided to write a ficlet around my love cowboy!eddie. also follows the lore that sweet girl is not the best cook lmao. super fluffy. genuinely nothing but the sweetest fluff and love.

Your head turned at the rumble of the truck, moving slowly down the gravel driveway towards the house. Eddie always drove much slower than you, always on to you about speeding down the gravel, flinging it everywhere. 

The red truck’s bed was filled with lumber, left over from the recent renovations the Ives’ family had done to their new fence, just up the road- well, that’s what Eddie always said, it was more like a good ten miles away. Irvine Ives had called Eddie up last night, asked him if he wanted it before he took it to the junkyard. He knew Eddie was repairing a patch in the fence a Bronco he was training had kicked out. 

“Back so soon?” You grinned, pressing a hand over your brows to shield you from the September sun. Not as bright as it was in June, but still unforgiving in the middle of the day. 

“Yep, wasn’t much, but I think I got what I needed.” Eddie hummed, turning the key and killing the ignition, cigarette still lit between his fingers. “Think I got enough to patch it though. Just gonna need to repaint it since it’s not the same kinda wood.” 

Your brows raised, walking over towards the driver’s side, leaning in towards the window. “I can help you with that.” You hummed, breathing in the cloud of smoke he exhaled with a content sigh. “I love to paint.” 

Eddie grinned back at you, a soft crease in his dimples that made your body buzz with excitement. “Yeah? We can go to town tomorrow if I get this done. Pick out a color.” 

“That sounds like fun.” You beam. “I was going to say we need to go to the grocery anyways, so that works out.” You hum, a large brown bag catching your attention, nestled beside Eddie in the passenger seat. 

“What’s that?” You ask, leaning on the door to see. “Apples?” 

“Yeah, Mrs. Ives insisted I take a few. Said their trees were overflowin’ with ‘em.” Eddie nodded towards the bag, lightly tapping your hand to move, opening the truck’s door. “Figure I’d give a few to Medusa. Try to do something with the rest, maybe.” 

You nodded slowly, wheels in your mind already spinning with an idea. Eddie handed you the apples, cradling the bottom until you got your grip on the heavy bag. “‘M gonna go start on this. Try to get it done today.” 

“Ok,” You hummed, hugging the apples to your chest. “Have fun, baby.” 

Eddie snorted in laughter, head ducking down, stealing a quick kiss from you. “I shouldn’t be too long.” He looked back at you, eyes narrowing in suspicion as you simply nodded, pulling the screen door open and slipping in the kitchen. 

Normally, you’d offer to come help him, sit with him and talk about nothing in particular, and hand him the tools while he worked. Not this time. You didn’t seem mad, or upset- really, you seemed perfectly happy. Which left him a little suspicious. 

The clanging of a large, steel pot falling on the floor soothed his worries, left him grinning to himself in humor as he started off to the barn. 

“Sift? What does- like move it around?” You muttered, brows pinched in concentration that was teetering on annoyance. Your eyes squinted in concentration, trying to decipher the loopy, old school cursive on the faded, yellowed recipe card in front of you. 

The first time you found the recipe box, it was buried under piles of other things, lost in the mess that was Eddie’s bachelor pad before you moved in- really, before you were in his life. His Mamaw Munson’s recipes, all her best dishes, all in one tin box. He sat in the kitchen with you between his legs, he’d poured over each one, told you which ones were his favorite, sometimes even added a little anecdote that had you beaming with joy. 

“Oh, this one was one of my favorites, baby,” Eddie had said, eyes lighting as they scanned over the card. 

“Apple Cobbler. She’d bake it in this cast iron skillet so it’d stay hot, and we’d put vanilla ice cream over it- holy shit, it was so good.” Eddie swallowed his drool, he could practically taste it still. “She used to have an apple tree before it got blown away by this bad tornado one year. But she’d go and pick them every fall when they were ripe, and she’d always make it for us. It was my favorite thing.” 

Looking at the recipe in front of you, you could see why Eddie loved it so much. It did sound really good. 

It was just very complicated. 

“Take your peeled- shit,” You looked at the sliced apples, still with the skin on, in the bowl in front of you. “Why wouldn’t you say that before I added the other stuff, Mamaw?” You huffed, pulling the drawer open for the whittling knife. 

The kitchen was a disaster, sticky and flour filled, bowls piling high in the sink; and you hadn’t even gotten halfway through the recipe. Grabbing a handful of the butter and sugar rolled apples, you placed them on the counter’s free space, carefully carving around the edge where the skin was. 

This isn’t too bad, not taking as long as I thought it would, You thought to yourself, finally in a grove of cutting around the skin, tossing the apple back in the mixture. 

A smoky, sugary, thick smell alerted your senses on your last few apples. Turning, you saw the filling that was supposed to be simmering, now bubbling with thick, burnt globs in the pot. You grabbed the handle with a panic, shoving it to the free stove eye, turning the hot one off. 

The mixture, which was supposed to be a light caramel brown, was a deep dark molasses shade. You lifted the whisk, cringing at the toughness of the gooey substance. “It’s ok,” You shook your head lightly, looking at the clock. “That’s- whatever. It’ll bake and soften in the oven.” 

Pulling out the pan, you shoved the now skinless apples to the bottom, scraping the hardened filling mixture on top. The wooden spoon nearly broke trying to mix it in, sticking out of the cemented filling. 

You could see Eddie through the small window over the sink, down to the last stake in the fence, already beginning the wiring. He’d be done soon, this had to cook for forty-five minutes, and the kitchen was a disaster. 

“It’s fine, it’ll be fine.” You muttered to yourself, pouring the batter on top, not bothering to smooth it out like the instructions said- there was no time for that Mamaw. Instead, you slid it in the oven, turning the timer. 

Eddie came in just as you’d finished putting your last dish away. Your body surged with excited heat, smug that you might actually get away with your little surprise- well, as long as he didn’t go to the back porch, where the burnt filling was in the pan, cemented in. 

“Mm,” Eddie sniffed the air, sugary and a little… smoky? “Smells good in here, baby.” He gave you a dazzling smile, hoping you wouldn’t pick up the hesitancy in his tone. 

It was no secret that you weren’t exactly the best cook. Not that Eddie cared, but after you almost burnt the house down making lasagna, he was a little weary when you’d cook. 

“Does it?” Your eyes lit up, filled with excitement that he wouldn’t dare take from you. Whatever you’d made, no matter how charred or inedible it was, he’d scarf it down with a grin if it’d make you happy. Even if it gave him food poisoning like the chicken ala king did. 

“Yeah, what’re you makin’?” Eddie reached for the oven’s handle. 

You pushed it closed with a click of your tongue, smacking his hands away. “Don’t.” You shook your head. “It’s a surprise.” 

And you were true to your word. It certainly was a surprise. 

When you placed the concoction in front of Eddie, grinning so big, so proudly, he couldn’t bring himself to do anything but grin back. “Wow, you, uh, you made this for me, sweetheart?” He smiled, eyeing the plate in front of him. 

“Yes,” You giggled, topping the runny dough on top with a scoop of ice cream. “You said it was your favorite, and when you brought the apples home, I just thought I’d surprise you.” You chirped, sliding him a spoon. “I followed your Mamaw’s recipe.”

“You spoil me, sweet thing. You know that?” Eddie smiled, heart swelling at the sentiment. You really did spoil him, were too good and too sweet to him- even if you’re cooking wasn’t as good. 

“Try it.” You sat next to him, bursting with excitement. “I know it won’t be as good as hers, but I think I did a good job on it.” 

Eddie looked down at the plate, swallowing the dread building in his throat. He dug his spoon, sawing it through the thick middle until it finally came out in a clean cut. Taking a large scoop of ice cream, hoping it would mask the flavor, he took a bite. 

“Is it good?” You leaned forward, eyes rounded in hopefulness, scanning his features eagerly. 

Eddie hummed, his teeth cemented together from the filling, sure his crown might pop out from the material. The filling was tough, the dough undercooked and lacked something that made it rise, but the apples were delicious- just like his Mamaw’s except…

“Oh,” Eddie winced before he could help it, finger digging in his mouth. He pulled out the hard thing that was wedged in his molar, turning it with a brow raised. “Is that- is that a seed?” 

Your face fell, looking at the seed back at Eddie. “Well, yeah, from the apples.” You said, heart skinning in your chest. “I didn’t- it didn’t say to take them out or anything, so I just left them in.”

Eddie swallowed, stomach turning lightly at the bite. “No, it’s- I mean, it’s good, baby. Some people take them out, but- no, this is, it’s really good.” He nodded, smiling at you gently. “‘S really good.” 

“Really?” You squeaked. “Better than the muffins?” 

“Yes,” Eddie said truthfully, whole heartedly. That was the truth, this was so much better than the mess that was the blueberry muffins. “So much better. This is really good, sweetheart. You really surprised me. Too sweet of ya to do this.” 

You squealed, hugging him tightly, legs straddling his waist in the chair, lips pressing kisses over his cheeks, his chin, his lips. Eddie’s arms wrapped around you, squeezing you into him, playfully nipping at your jaw to hear you squeal, before his lips caught yours, pulling you into a heated kiss. He’d eat all your burnt cobblers if it meant you’d be happy like this, if it made you this happy. 

[laneywrld]

no greater engine than desire | Lewis Hamilton Series

chapter one | big talk, big offers. nomi is a genius; it's true. when you need someone to make a championship-winning car, check Texas first.

word count: 3.5k

warnings: none

When Lewis had agreed to move to Ferarri, Fred already had someone else in mind to bring onto the team.

Now Fred was a French man who spent most of his time in Maranello, but he had eyes everywhere.

On this particular day, his eyes were in Texas.

"And she is there, yes?" Fred asks, his voice crackling over the speaker.

"She is," Alessandro confirms.

And the she they're referring to is Nomi Williams.

Now, the beautiful thing about Nomi is that she's an absolute genius.

She'd been on Fred's radar since his early days at Sauber, but then he knew he couldn't afford her. Now, he knew monetary issues wouldn't serve as a problem.

But back to Nomi, she's a genius, it's true!

You may ask yourself, what is a genius doing riding around a country dirt track in an old school Mustang in the middle of nowhere Texas? And why was an Italian man dressed to the tens watching her yards away?

The Mustang growled as it tore through the loose dirt, kicking up a cloud of dust that shimmered like gold under the hot Texas sun. Behind the wheel, Nomi was sharp; she was focused and effortlessly in control. Her hands commanded the wheel, and her foot teased the accelerator like she was coaxing a lover.

"I just don't get it." Fred sighs.

"Get what, boss?" Allesandro questions.

"Why she's in a place like that, with a brain like hers."

"Freedom," Allesandro replied. "Just her, a car, and the open road. You know the type—brilliant enough to rewrite the rules, stubborn enough to refuse to play the game."

On the track, Nomi slid the Mustang into a corner, the rear tires spinning just enough to test her control.

She smiles to herself as the car skids across the dirt, but the moment is interrupted by her phone vibrating on the dash.

She ignored it for a moment, letting the Mustang roar down the final stretch of the dirt track before pulling to a halt in a swirl of dust. She reached for the phone and squinted at the screen—an unknown number.

Frowning, she swiped to answer, her voice clipped. "Hello?"

There was a pause, and then Fred's accent cut through. "Nomi Williams, I presume."

Her brow furrowed, and she leaned back in her seat, already wary. "Who's asking?"

"Fred Vasseur," he said as if that name should mean something. And to her, it did.

Nomi's lips parted in surprise, but she quickly schooled her expression, even though he couldn't see it. "Well, this is unexpected," she replied coolly, her Texan drawl laced with intrigue.

Nomi steps out of the car, her worn boots digging into the dirt. "Is that your guy watching me?" She asks.

"What gave it away?"

"I don't know; I think the fact that he's dressed like Al Capone."

Fred chuckles over the phone, and Nomi lifts her arm to wave at Alessandro, who seems to forget the meaning of inconspicuous.

"He's mine," Fred admits.

"And he's here, why?" Nomi asks, swinging the door closed to her Mustang and leaning back against the side of the car.

"He's scouting for me."

"More like stalking; I should be afraid right now; how do you have my number?"

"I have ties."

"Scouting who?"

"You, of course."

Nomi chuckles, "Yeah, right, what use am I to you?"

Fred's laugh crackled through the phone, amused.

"Come now, Nomi. Don't insult us both with false modesty. You know exactly what you're capable of. I need someone like you on my team."

Her eyes narrowed, the heat of the Texas sun doing little to thaw her skepticism. "Your team? That's a long way from here. What could Ferrari possibly want with someone like me?"

"Someone like you," Fred repeated, his voice plunging slightly, "doesn't belong in the middle of nowhere, playing with dirt tracks. You belong on the world stage."

"And let me guess," she said, tapping the roof of her Mustang. "You're offering me that stage?"

"Not just the stage, everything," Fred replied quickly. "I need someone with your mind on my team who can see what others miss."

She tilted her head, considering his words. "And what makes you think I'd leave all this behind?"

"You underestimate yourself, Miss Williams."

"I don't," Nomi replied, crossing her arms as her eyes flicked to Alessandro, who was pretending to study something on his phone.

"I just don't see how my little Texas hobby is of any interest to someone like you."

"What you're calling a hobby is what I call brilliance. I've been watching you for a long time. I know what you're working on is more than a hobby."

"Well, that makes one of us, Fred."

Fred's chuckle, in return, was rich. "You're wasted there, Nomi. Hidden away in the dust."

The line went quiet momentarily as Nomi chewed on her lip, her boots scuffing against the dirt. The Mustang behind her ticked faintly as the engine cooled.

"Flattery doesn't work on me, Fred. Don't you already have your geniuses? What's the point in me?"

"Ah!" He laughs, "That's where you're mistaken! I have geniuses, yes! I have engineers, strategists, and drivers, all of whom are brilliant. But I have no one who understands cars like you. None who can give me what I want."

"What do you want?"

"A championship."

"Big talk."

"Big offers, too," Fred countered. "Alessandro has the details. Take your time to think it over."

"And if I say no?"

"Then Alessandro will enjoy his vacation in Texas, and I'll keep calling until you change your mind," Fred said.

The line went dead, leaving Nomi standing in the heat, staring at her phone as if it might offer her answers.

From across the track, Alessandro approached a folder in hand and a cautious smile on his face. "Well," he said, offering her the paperwork, "if nothing else, you've got Fred's attention."

"And you've got a long paid vacation in Texas."

Nomi actually loved where she was from.

She was a country girl through and through.

She loved the dirt, the tall grass, she loved her home and their animals and she was enamored by the old cars and dirt tracks, and the endless rocky roads she could skid down without repercussions.

The point is, she loved Texas. And she had only ventured away from her lovely abode only a few short times.

When she spent those four years away at college in Boston that was a twenty-three-hour drive and not a twenty-hour flight across the world.

She had yet to tell her family about the offer she had received.

She already knew how her family would react.

Her mother would get all pissy and sour and scold her father for encouraging her to go. She wouldn't want her to go. She'd be overly cautious. Her mind would reel about every bad thing that could happen to her baby, especially on another continent.

And her brother, he'd ask her what she wanted to do.

Which is why she asks him first.

She's fresh out of the shower, skin slathered in cocoa butter and hair braided down for the night when she leaves the ranch house and walks down to his house about fifteen acres down the trail. She could’ve taken the four-wheeler and cut that trip down to about a few minutes but she instead used the time to reel over her possibilities.

Her brain worked logically at all times, there were facts and then there were the very motives that contradict her ever wanting to take this chance.

She'd have to relocate to Maranello - fact.

Which would mean leaving Texas.

She'd have more money than she could spend - fact.

Money as of late hadn't been a factor.

She'd be making a name for herself in the motorsport world.

She was already an acclaimed engineer.

JJ's house came into view, and his porch light welcomed her as it always had.

She climbed the steps and knocked lightly before letting herself in.

He looked up from the couch, a half-empty beer in hand. “What’s up, sis?”

Nomi hesitated, leaning against the doorframe. “Got a question for you.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Shoot.”

“If someone offered you the world… but it meant leaving everything you loved behind… would you take it?”

Her brother set down the beer, studying her for a long moment. “That depends,” he said slowly. “Do you love what you’d be leaving more than you want what they’re offering?”

Nomi didn’t reply right away. She glanced out the window, where the Texas stars stretched endlessly overhead. "No."

Her brother smiled faintly, "That just means you're comfortable. Comfort is a luxury you've had your whole life. Do you want to be comfortable or do you want a thrill?"

Nomi sighs and plops down on the couch beside her brother.

"I received an offer."

"I figured," He chuckled, reaching for the remote and lowering the volume on the TV, "from?"

"Ferarri."

JJ whoops and literally jumps up from his seat, his beer sloshing onto his hand slightly. "Nomi! That's huge!"

Nomi drums her fingers against her knees, and JJ's eyes follow the movement.

"What do you think?" He tries his best to let the expectant look drop from his face. She didn't have a follow-up for his question.

"Okay," he breathes, settling back down onto the couch and wiping his hands on his jeans. Here's what I think, I think you've worked your ass off for years. You’re already one of the best engineers in the game. No one’s gonna tell you to take the offer, but you’ve earned that kind of opportunity."

“But...” he pressed, his voice softer now. “You know what it means. You’ve got a life here. You’ve got us.”

Nomi nods, "Which is why I shouldn't take it, right?"

"But that's the beautiful thing about family, Nomi. We'll always be here waiting for you. If that's your deciding factor, I've answered it. Mama might be a little down about it, pops a little too excited, but we'll always be here waiting and accepting you back with open arms."

"It is Ferrari," Nomi whispers.

"Exactly," JJ nudges her with his shoulder, "I can't see myself living in a world where Nomi Williams turns down an offer from Ferrari, the girl who named her horse Maranello, the girl who painted her first car red by herself. I mean you manifested this."

"When you tell Mama and Pops you're going, lead with that maybe."

"I never said I was taking it."

"I know you, Nomi."

The relationship between a driver and his race engineer is... delicate.

Yes, delicate. That's how Lewis would describe it.

There's a need for balance and understanding. For the relationship to thrive, there needs to be this consistent effort.

The engineer should want the win just as much as the driver if not more, and they should do anything to get them there.

Lewis had Bono, and up until last season, he was sure he'd found the perfect partner in the racing world.

They had a certain level of trust in each other.

But here's the thing about trust: it takes time to be built but can easily be broken.

Lewis wouldn't say his trust in Bono had completely fallen to pieces; it wasn't shattered, but the cracks had surely shown towards the end.

This is why he's a bit weary of whoever will be directing him this year.

He was starting over from scratch; this person would have to learn his driving style and the perfect balance between him and the car, and they'd have to trust his word. They'd have to trust him, too.

And in return, he'd have to trust them too.

Lewis didn't particularly like testing days.

In fact, he's opted out of testing for the last few years, instead giving the reserve drivers extra time in the car. But this year was different.

He was no longer at Mercedes; he was with Ferrari and knew absolutely nothing.

It's his main concern. It reeled over in his mind from the second he woke up, all the way into the showers; it lingered with him. It clung to him as he got dressed, and it rode in the car with him all the way to the track.

He could imagine him now, balding, with grey hair, slim and tall. That description seemed to fit too many of the Ferrari team.

He was sure it was a part of the application.

40+. Check

White/Italian. Check

Male. Double-check

Maybe they'd even thrown in a quiz. Describe the essence of Enzo Ferrari in 100 words or less.

Lewis sighed, picturing his engineer explaining strategy in a heavy accent, a cigarette dangling precariously between their fingers. "No push now, Lewis. Is good time for espresso."

He let out a laugh under his breath. If the guy showed up in red loafers and a silk scarf, he might lose it entirely.

So when he stepped into the Ferrari garage and saw his new race engineer for the first time, Lewis froze.

She wasn't 40.

She wasn't balding.

And she definitely wasn't a man.

Instead, she was... young. Younger than him. A woman with sharp brown eyes, a no-nonsense expression, and hair tied back in a ponytail like she didn't have the time to do anything else with it.

No cigarette. No espresso.

No red silk scarf, no loafers.

Just a clipboard, a laptop, and a very unimpressed look.

"Well," she said, glancing at her watch. "Glad you could finally make it, Mr. Hamilton. Ready to work, or should I grab you a cappuccino first?"

Oh, this was going to be fun.

Lewis raised an eyebrow, half in surprise, half in wonder, and used the moment to take her in. "I'm good."

"Great." She pivoted on her heel, moving quickly towards the car without even so much as a look over her shoulder.

Lewis catches on to the fact that he's supposed to be following her and quickly does so.

"We've got a lot of work to do."

"You're my race engineer?" He asks. And she stops in her tracks, her fingers passing the typing on the laptop she carried in her arm.

"Oh my god, you're so smart." She says dryly before continuing her march. "My name is Nomi."

"Right," Lewis muttered, stuffing his hands in his pockets. Sharp tongue, check. "How long have you been with Ferrari?"

"Long enough to know how this team works," she replied, stopping abruptly in front of the car. "Which, by the way, is about 80% drama, 15% tradition, and 5% actual racing. Welcome to the circus."

Lewis huffed out a surprised laugh. He hadn't expected that level of honesty. "Sounds like you've got it all figured out."

Nomi turned to face him, one eyebrow arching slightly. "I don't figure things out, Mr. Hamilton. I know them. And what I know right now is that you've got a lot to learn about this car."

"And you've got a lot to learn about me." He shot back. She freezes, and for a second, he's sure he's managed to fuck up just that fast, but then her face twitches, and a shit-eating smile takes over her lips.

"Good, let's start with that." She closes the laptop, nestling it and the clipboard under her arm, "Get in. I need data, and you need laps. Unless you'd prefer to chat over tea and biscuits?"

Lewis smirked, a flicker of amusement breaking through his guarded exterior. "Not really my style."

"Shame," Nomi deadpanned. "I had the good biscuits ready, too."

In the car, her voice crackles over the earpiece, "Radio check. Can you hear me?"

"Loud and clear." Lewis chuckles to himself after sending through his message.

Here, he was worried about the thick Italian accents when, in reality, a Texan drawl would be his biggest concern.

"Good," Nomi said. "Let's get you out there. Take your out-lap steady—no heroics. Just need to get some baseline data first."

"Oh, so you're taking the fun out of it."

"Fun comes later, cowboy," she shot back without missing a beat. "Let's see if you can even handle my upgrades before you start showing off. Pit lane's clear; when you're ready, take her out."

And he does.

And what this car is is nothing short of magnificent.

Lewis hadn't felt this fast since the W11.

And somehow, impossibly, this car felt even more alive than that.

"Steering is okay?"

"Feels good. Maybe a touch light, but I'll let you know after the first lap."

"Copy. We've got the brake bias forward by a click from Charles' run, but I can adjust it if it's not working for you."

Lewis took the car through the first corner, feeling out the balance. "Front's biting nicely. The rear feels planted so far."

"Not bad," she said, focused. "Don't get too comfortable, though. I set it up a little aggressive. Want to see how you handle it."

He smirked, pushing the throttle a little harder into the next straight. The car responded immediately, and he was a little shocked by just how smooth the power delivery was.

"This is aggressive?"

"Don't tempt me, Lewis," she warned a hint of laughter in her voice. "If you're not sweating by the end of this stint, I haven't done my job."

Alright, Nomi. Let's see what you've got."

Lewis grinned as he tore down the straight; the car hummed beneath him. He hadn't expected to feel this good or this fast. It was almost like Ferrari was trying to make up for years of... well, being Ferrari.

"Feels like you've been holding out on Charles," Lewis quipped as he braked hard into the next corner.

"Not at all," Nomi replied smoothly, her voice calm in his ear. "I just know how to set up a car for a seven-time world champion."

Lewis barked out a laugh, surprised at how easily the compliment—or was it a dig?—slipped in. "Careful, Nomi. Flattery will get you everywhere."

"Noted," she said dryly. "But don't get cocky yet. We're still in the honeymoon phase. Wait until you start complaining about understeer mid-race."

Lewis shook his head, a smirk tugging at his lips as he powered through another series of corners. "You've got me all figured out, huh?"

"I'm working on it," Nomi shot back. "And so far, you're about 50% talent, 40% ego, and 10% British politeness."

"Politeness?"

"Well, you did say thank you when I told you to get in the car. That's rare around here."

He chuckled, easing into the next corner and letting the car prom through the apex. The setup really was aggressive but in the best way possible.

"You weren't kidding about this being aggressive," Lewis said after a moment. "But it's good. Real good."

"Good," Nomi replied, efficient again. "Push a little harder on the next lap. I need data on high-speed cornering, and we'll see if those tires hold up."

"Copy that," Lewis said, already lining up the next straight.

For a few laps, their conversation shifted into a steady tempo of feedback and adjustments.

It was familiar territory for Lewis, but there was something different about Nomi's style.

For one, she was sharper, more direct. She didn't waste time explaining things he didn't need to know, but when she did speak, it was clear she knew exactly what she was doing.

As he brought the car back into the pits after the stint, Lewis found himself smiling despite the sweat dripping down his face.

When he climbed out of the car, Nomi was already waiting for him, arms crossed and a faintly smug expression on her face. "Well?" she asked.

"Not bad," Lewis said, grabbing a towel and wiping his face. "I could get used to this."

"Good. It was nice meeting you; I'm guessing I'll see you again in a month or so?"

"I-uh, yeah." Lewis reaches his hand out, "Nice meeting you too."

Nomi accepts the gesture, her hand slotting into his, "90% talent, 10% British politeness."

And then she saunters away, disappearing within some doors, so quickly and slyly that Lewis questions if he imagined her.

"Met Nomi, I see."

It's Charles. Face dripping with sweat fresh out of his car.

"Yeah." Lewis nods, still eyeing the doors where she disappeared. "She's... young," Lewis said after a beat, unsure if he meant it as an observation or a question.

Charles chuckled, crossing his arms as he leaned against the nearest workstation. "Young, yes. But if you think that means inexperienced, you're in for a surprise. Nomi's why we got 22 podiums last season and, frankly, the only reason we're not running a mid-pack car right now. She doesn't miss."

"She wasn't a race engineer last season, though?"

"No." Charles affirms, "But when she wasn't busy working on the 2025 car and tweaking her engine, she was upgrading our cars."

"Working on the car, tweaking the engine? You're saying that-"

"I'm saying that every piece of these cars came from blueprints she has scribbled in her notebook."

Fred approaches as Lewis states his next question, "And you trust her to build a championship-winning car?"

Fred shrugged, a knowing smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "I trust her to make this car faster than it has any right to be. Whether that's good enough for a championship—well, that's up to you guys."

first fic of the new year 🥳

taglist: @harrys-hs-gf1 @ariesmai @lh44girl @wabi-sabi1090 @nayaesworld @strengthandstay @annisassintchaska @greedyjudge2

[lundenloves]

CHAOTIC RILEY HOUSEHOLD

{✧} dad!simon, everyone’s favourite dilf.

{✧} this is just a short thing of like a morning? (duh wtf) i mean if bro has three kids you already know he’s physically there but not mentally. and this was like? a depiction of that. it’s literally just one or two words on a screen. *trips on a curb after speed walking away*

taglist | dad!simon masterlist | masterlist | request info

↳ no warnings | 1k | dad!simon

The chaos of the morning always felt extreme to Simon Riley. He had never imagined them to be so busy and full of life, full of emotion, loudness and laughs. Having a full house did that. Having three kids did that. And that was something he would’ve never imagined for himself, period. 

Yet — here he was. Stood leant against the kitchen counter, piece of toast in his hand with a cup of earl grey on the counter behind him. His oldest argued with his middle, the last drop of orange juice teasingly drank down right in her face. The youngest cried loudly, protesting going to school by pushing her shirt over her head and screaming whenever anyone took a step near her. Plates were everywhere, half finished food was on said plates and you looked like a shepherd trying to herd her sheep. 

Simon didn’t move from his position against the counter. It was like a vantage point, being above everyone in height, yet stood still and seemingly blending into the background of family mess. 

That was until he was pulled from his peace, abruptly at that. “Dad, tell her.” The oldest had dropped her arms to her side in a teenage strop, gesturing to her sibling who scowled. 

“Hmm?” He stared absently, blissfully unaware of the chaos before him. You squeezed past him, your hand on his bicep with the movement, the youngest clung to his leg and the middle began shouting about getting ‘dad involved.’

“She’s just drank all the orange juice, there was enough for two.” Simon shrugged, taking a bite from his toast and waving a hand of dismissal, as if her biggest problem of the morning wasn’t a flake valid. “Mum!” She tried instead. 

“Simon, any day now?” You gestured toward his leg, silently telling him to deal with it. His eyes fell down to his youngest, still clung to his calf with force, half-dressed and crying. Loud. He rubbed at his temple, shoving the toast into his mouth and lifting his leg and her with it much to your fear. 

“What’s wrong, eh?” She wiped her nose on her arm, looking up to her dad with wet eyes. “Kid.” 

“School.” She mumbled, kicking away from him and attempting to run away before he had picked her up. She hit his chest, small hands trying to lift herself from his biceps. “Daddy. Stop.” Her demand only made Simon shrug.

“You’re going.” His hand pushed hair from her face. 

“If she’s staying off, I'm staying off.” The middle chimed in, loosening her school tie and leaning back on her chair. 

“No one is staying off.” He reprimanded, nodding toward the chair. “You’ll fall if you do that.” She shrugged and he manually pulled the chair back down, holding his palm on the back edge. “Go and get your bag.”

“What about her?” 

“I’m about to sort her out,” His youngest landed a slap to his neck, trying to kick out of his grasp once more. “Just— do it. Thanks.” And there came a long groan that followed her up the stairs, the oldest reaching to finish her orange juice in the short absence. Simon sighed. 

“I want everyone out in ten.” You shouted above the kitchen chaos, handing him small shoes that had been kicked off in a strop. He set her down on the table, holding her legs still to slide the shoes back on much to her physical protests. 

“I don’t want to go.” She cried, crossing her little arms over her chest with a frown once he had fixed the shirt and jumper back on. 

“No one wants to go.” The oldest chimed from the table, standing up and kicking her chair back in while absently scrolling on her phone. “I’m leaving.” She shouted to you, sending Simon a salute before walking backwards out the room and to the door with an accidental slam. “Sorry!”

The middle came humphing back downstairs and kicked her bag to the door, leant against the wall and glaring at her sister. You took your youngest from Simon, balancing her on your hip after pulling a jacket on. “I’ll see you when I get home, Si.” He nodded, mug of tea back in hand, brows frowning for a moment. 

“Did you get her food?” His index and forefinger lacklusterly motioned to the counter, nodding his head upward in acknowledgement once you had shown him the lunchbox. “Did you get your food?”

“I’ll just buy—“

“Can we go.” Came an extended scoff from the hall. 

“Buy something today.” 

“You need money?” He cleared his throat, taking your brief kiss before setting back against the counter. His eyes landed on the toddler in your arms, stern gaze unchanged for her own glare sent his way. 

“What five quid? No.” You rubbed his arm affectionately, taking the small raincoat for your daughter and pressing one last kiss to his cheek before walking down the hall. “Remember and sort out those shelves today. If you forget I'll be mighty impressed considering you’re doing fucking nothing.” You rambled while shoving your shoes on, letting your youngest daughter down and watching with a sigh as she sat on the floor. 

Simon let out a string of “Mh-hm’s” for your list of requests, each one becoming less patient and edging a grin from you. 

“Right.” You took your daughter's hand, picking her up from the floor. “The shelves, Simon.” A pointed finger of warning was sent his way and he merely nodded, seeing you out the door. 

And once the house had finally fell to a stilling silence, he blew a raspberry to himself, hard knuckles rhythmically tapping on the kitchen counters. The mess a Monday morning created was something he could and would never get used to. But, it was home. Any drop of silence was his bread and butter, therefore the pin drop quietness pushed a groan of relief from him. Heel of his palms pushed into his eyes. 

Home. Or something like that. 

i’m still in my block this isn’t a redemption.

simon ‘ghost’ riley taglist: @vamppxncess @crowbird @misshoneypaper @tallrock35 @fluffmonster @islanderr @blueoorchid @lea3773 @coldflapjack @rayhawk05 @han11dh @liishook @melovetitties @fallonx @rvjaa @fuckmelifesucks @bhayatsara @takeomisbitch @local-spidey @konigsblog @penutjuice @babychoi03 @sheluvzeren @sparklingtragedy @maviee @wiserebelpartypie @daddylorianisastateofmind @bhayatsara @mistydeyes @writingmysanity @johfaam0 @idkjoequinn @gressseyy @fwibblefwobble @shibble @maladaptivedaydreamingbum @airghostlyfox

as always, reblogs and comments are mighty appreciated! if no one pats me on the head every now and then i’ll sit in a hole.

↳ requests are open for dad!simon stuff although see the masterlist for more info.

[tojisth3rdwife]

Dog Gone It!

Syn: Aint it funny how when you let your kids get a pet, they immediately become your problem?

cw: crack. Megumi and these damn dogs driving you crazy..

a/n: s/o @sugurugetoshairbrush for the insp❤️❤️

“Hot sauce all in our Top Ramen, ya bish..ya bish, ya bish. Park the car, then we start rhymin', ya bish…” Toji mumbles along to the music filling his car, leaning back in his seat, one hand on the wheel as he sits in morning traffic. The forecast predicted scattered downpours for the whole day, having drenched the city and grayed the skies since early. He sighs bitterly when the motion of the traffic’s flow stalled, clenching his jaw when the car behind him started honking obnoxiously.

Toji was reluctantly on his way to a job that Shiu offered to him the night before. Something quick and easy, a minor shakedown and debt collection that shouldn't take him long. Knowing that didn't make it any easier to leave you this morning. Hell, he could still feel your lips on his neck and jawline as he had to force himself out the door.

No big deal though. He’d get the job done. Run some errands then make his way back to the house so he could enjoy having you to himself for a few hours.

His car had eased a bit further up the crowded road when his mounted phone rings from the front vents. Its a Facetime call from you.

Toji frowns, wondering what would have you Facetiming him this early when he expected you to be back in bed and asleep since Megumi had gone off to school.

Perhaps you were restless and wanted to put on a little show for him, needed his help to get back to sleep. Dirty possibilities spawned in his brain as he lifted his finger to swipe over the phone to answer, a knowing smirk on his face.

Toji’s attention is split between watching traffic and his screen, which he expected to be filled by your sensual expression, shrouded in his sheets and pillows. But no. He’s met immediately with your scowl and disheveled appearance.

You were standing in what he deduced was the living room, with the jingly sound of silver dog collars, heavy panting, and the TV in the background. His white tee you were wearing when he left was stretched at the collar and stained a light brown along with streaks of dirt and wet grass over your chest. Your hair, which was tied up neatly in a patterned silk scarf previously, was uncovered and a mess all over your head as if you’d been in a fight.

It's so shocking that a chuckle bubbled up from Toji’s chest as he sat up in his seat.

“Wha...Babe what the fuck happened to you?” he furrowed his brow and you simply turned the phone towards the floor, which was riddled with huge muddy paw prints and scattered puddles of water at your feet. At that, Toji’s smirk fades.

The camera whips back up to your comically pissed expression, a deranged smile now confusing Toji entirely.

“Guess who forgot to let the dogs back in from the backyard again?”

Toji stares at you blankly for a moment, then drops his head and shakes it when the answer hits.

“Dammit Megs. I had just told that boy...” he mutters, running his hand over his face.

“Yeah, me too. Right after you left, I reminded him to take care of the dogs before he went to school. So when he got on the bus , I assumed he had. But when I got out of the bathroom, I heard them scratching at the back door. They were just out there crying and getting rained on.”

Your voice began to shake with emotion as you moved around the room, mumbling cusses under your breath.

“Then what happened? Why do you look like you just got your ass kicked?” Toji counters at your pause, his choice of words making you laugh dryly.

“Funny you ask! I open the damn door and try to rescue them and those fuckers trample right over my ass and tracked mud and who the fuck knows what else all through the living room. Knocked my mug out of my hands so its hot ass coffee all over me. And now the front room stank like outside and ass..mud and shit everywhere Toji.....”

He hisses empathetically, his expression wrinkling in a grimace.

“Fuck! You got burned?? Is it bad?..” Toji inquires, his eyes lifting to the road and his mirrors as he attempts to switch lanes.

You appreciated his concern for you and would have been all warm and fuzzy inside because of it had you not already been so furious.

“No. No, it doesn't seem so bad. I haven't had a chance to check since it just happened. My shirt is just fucked..Aht aht! GHOST! NO! Nooooo..Getcho ass off that couch...”

Toji looks back down at his phone to find you swatting and baring your teeth at one of the dogs, chasing him away from the furniture.

“Uuuuughh!!! Toji it's big ass doo doo looking prints on the couch!! I just. I can't! I fucking can't..” you whimpered pitifully. All while you were fussing with the animals ruining his house and his woman, Toji was fighting for his life to keep from laughing at the way you talked to the dogs. If anyone else was listening, they’d swear you were rounding up a group of unruly ass children.

Although in retrospect, you kind of were.

A break in the traffic jam allowed Toji to turn down a back road, allowing him to cruise at a higher speed on his way to his destination. You noticed him trying to cover his scarred lips with his fist, a feeble attempt at hiding his smile. You focused your glare on him, quirking your brow.

“Uhm…I don’t see whats so funny. Ima have some words for your son and Im gonna put his animals right back out there in the rain so i can clean my house..” you mutter, glancing over the phone as said animals begin playfully growling at each other over a mangled chew toy.

“AHT AHT!! Don't yall start that shit!!” You yell as Toji responds to your not-so-idle threats to kick them out.

“Please don't. You know they’ll just howl and piss off the neighbors and shit...It's too early.” He shakes his head, coming up on a red light.

“Damn right it's too early! And fawk them neighbors! What about me? Lil is over here prancing around like she did a good thing by knocking my coffee all over the floor. Ghost keep jumping on the couch..” your voice shook as if you were about to cry, which you very well might do. It was close to that time of the month when every minor inconvenience felt major, and major ones seemed catastrophic. Toji knew he shouldn’t have left the house that morning. He just knew it.

“..it smells in here and now I have to mop again and take all the cushion covers off the couch to wash 'em..” you continued ranting, to which Toji listened intently with a wary scowl trained ahead at the busy intersection.

He sighs loudly.

“Im sorry youre dealing with that babe. I really am.” Toji mutters just as the loud sniffing sound has him glancing at his phone to find the camera on your chest. You were bending to sop up the spilled coffee and rain water with a towel when one of the dog’s started investigating.

“Yeah well me too...Stop, Ghost. Move...You have to talk to Megs about this. You let him get these damn dogs and while I love them, they're a pain in my ass today. And now they're just looking at me like they're innocent. Tails just wagging...”

To prove it, you stand and tap the screen to switch to the back camera for Toji to get a look at the dynamic duo himself.

Ghost, the male hound with snow white fur stood with his ears sticking straight up and his tongue dangling from his mouth as he panted happily.

Lilith, his sister with the deep black coat, was sitting beside him gazing up at you with interest, her head tilting curiously.

Both of their tails wagged happily as you stood over them, trying not to swoon over how cute they were in spight of all the destruction they caused in your house. They were just so damn big and rowdy, being less than a year old. You were afraid to see how much damage they could do if they weren't done growing.

Toji regards the big ass puppies with a squint before grunting in amusement, easing forward on the greenlight.

“Well..at least theyre happy..” he smirks, his attention back on driving.

He feels you give him the coldest glare through the phone that makes him chuckle in surrender and shake his head.

“Ok ok..I’ll talk to Megumi about being more responsible and make him scrub the couch when he gets home so just leave it, alright? I’ll handle it.” Toji grips the steering wheel, his forearms flexing subtly as he makes his turn.

The definitiveness of his tone put you at ease immediately because you know for a fact that Toji would handle his broody, hard-headed ass son. As far as the dogs, you knew in a few hours that you’d forgive them and their owner for just being themselves, and the drama of the morning would be another comical memory to join the rest that has accumulated since joining the Fushiguro clan.

A sigh of relief puffs between your lips.

“Good. Thank you. Im gonna go clean myself up. I’ll talk to you later.” You step past the dogs on your way towards the bathroom again, ready to peel the damn coffee stained shirt from your body. The rev of Toji’s engine was audible and the view of him driving comfortable with his huge pecs stretching the front of his standard black tee distracts you from the grumpiness for a few seconds. Unaware of you ogling since he was watching the road, Toji reaches for his mounted phone.

“Alright baby. Don’t kill nobody in the meantime. I’ll be back in a few hours.” He half jokes, tapping his screen. You were in the bathroom by now, turning the faucet for the bathtub to hot before responding.

“Yeah yeah, no promises. Hurry up.” You mutter with a pout. The same one you gave Toji before he left. He chuckles at your expression, rolling his eyes. You scrunch your nose at him before kissing the pads of your middle and index fingers and pressing your stamped smooch to Toji’s face on your phone. He steals a glance towards his phone just in time to recieve the imaginary kiss and your grumpy ‘bye Toji’ amidst the rushing water.

“Uh huh. Bye, baby..” he laughs, making sure to press his lips to his thumb, then his thumb to the camera before tapping the little red circle to hang up.

<call ended>

[insidejiaqi]

Sex for grades (kind of)

was not particularly the smartest girl in school in university. so i had to do what it takes to graduate

————————————

i studied computer science in university. looking back, probably not the best choice for a dumb bitch like me. chose it cuz my friends chose it too. and the bunch of nerds around me were just not it. creeps everywhere.

in my first sem, there was this particular project based mod and i could not understand anything the prof was saying. whats worse was my coding skills were close to non existent and my group mates were all experienced code monkeys.

i could tell my project mates were slowly getting fed up with me. they would assign me tasks that i would take so long to complete they end up just doing it for me. but i do try okayyyyy.

one night i was determined to contribute something. so i stayed late in school to work on one of the tasks assigned to me. i convinced one of my project mates to stay with me. he was the kind of an awkward looking nerd that wears specs. the only woman he ever talked to was probably his mom.

while i was trying to do my task, i would consistently rant out loud about how hard it is and why i keep getting errors. he heard me and came to sit beside me to explain the problems i had.

i leaned in to point at my laptop screen, acting like i was listening and got my boobs caressing his arm intentionally. i know he felt it as he suddenly looked a little uncomfortable. i could see his bulge starting to form. he carried on explaining the issues with my code but i wasnt even listening.

tbh, the plan was never for me to actually finish it. i just dont want to get complained for not contributing :)

"how about i do this and you do this for me?" i stretched out my arm to grab the big bulge in his pants.

he gave me the blank stare.

"come on, you do what youre good at, and i do what im good at. no one suffers"

"errrr"

i got on my knees under the table and started undoing his pants. it was just us there. i pulled out his dick and to my surprise, it was about 5 inches. for a nerd like him, his dick size was surprising.

"stop looking and keep typing"

he immediately looked up and continued working on my task.

I slowly pulled back his forskin to expose the dickhead and my warm saliva drip down on his sensitive virgin dick. he involuntarily moaned and squirmed as i started stroking, coating his dick with my saliva.

"fuck jiaqi, your hands feel amazing!"

"shhhh. less talking, more typing"

I leaned in to lick the head as i continued stoking. he kept moaning and the typing did not stop. without warning, his hands came under the table and forced my mouth into his dick.

"ohh fuck yesss jiaqii. i always imagined you as a naughty dumb slut. jerking off to your pictures when we were first grouped together. never thought it could be real. and now fucking your mouth feels 1000 times better. fuckkkk"

he held my head down for a good 10 seconds while he exposes dirtiest fantasies to me.

"now get up and let me fuck you over the table" he pulled me up by my hair and bent me over bent me over the table. he lifted my skirt and saw that i was not wearing any panties.

"wow seems like this was you end goal since the beginning huh. wanting that pussy filled quickly so you didnt wear panties?"

"nuuu..." he jabbed his dick into me before i could reply and started thrusting in and out.

"fuck you little dumb slut. its okay. i will do your homework for you if you continue being a good little cock sleeve. now call me daddy"

"yes daddyy... fuckkkkkk ughhh"

the thrusting continued as he added a few loud spanks on my ass as if it was not a public place. he was still an inexperienced nerd and just 2mins later he pulled out and shot his ropes on my ass and sat back down on the chair panting.

"heheh how does it feel to lose your virginity?"

"tiring... how was it for you?"

"heheh here is lesson 2. dont ask a girl that."

he was still trying to catch his breath while i started packing my bag.

"now get that task done for me alright? its due tomorrow", i whispered in his ear before leaving.

"yea sure dont worry about it."

I went home and when i arrived home, i got a text containing all the files required to complete the task.

from then on, he helped me do my work for the rest of the sem and i got an A. heheh

————————————

Appreciate yall for reading my sexual recounts. Writing it gets me turned on as well. If you liked it, do give it a like and reblog!

Follow me on twitter at @jiaqi2602 for short snippets and uncensored content.

Till next time!

[enluv]

in another life.

lee heeseung x f!reader x ??? (it'll make sense when you read I promise)

SYNOPSIS: in which losing you is the least of heeseung’s worries, until he’s forced to watch you slip through his fingers.

wc: 1.9k (almost 2k fr)!

genres: best friends to strangers, unrequited love (or is it), best friends to lovers

warning(s): heavy angst, toxic friendship/relationship, heeseung is mean, very very mean, manipulation (nothing too crazy), refusal to take blame, and heeseung needs to be humbled imo...ANYWAYS, small plot twist but not really! (a/n: header is ugly because I made it in like 2 minutes since it felt naked without one 🤣☝🏽)

Lee Heeseung knows about your feelings for him at  the mere age of eight, when you give him the other half of your popsicle stick that you’ve just bought with your very own allowance. His smile is so bright taking the food from your hand that it doesn't even matter if you've spent all five of your dollars on the popsicle because as long as your youthful heart can see Heeseung smile, that’s all that matters to you.

Heeseung also knows about your feelings for him when you're both sixteen and he proudly exclaims that he’s finally asked Jisun out after months of pining after her. A hurt look flashes across your face for one, two then three seconds, then as if it was never there, it’s gone. He thinks it might have been a bad idea to tell you but he doesn’t reciprocate the feelings you have for him and in his mind, he never will. 

“Come on Y/N, it’s one party, please come with me please, I don’t want to be alone all night,” he pouts tugging at the sleeve of your sweater. Heeseung knows it’s not right to do things like this, knows he shouldn’t force you to go with him everywhere but he likes that you can’t say no to him, it swells his heart with pride to have someone care for him as much as you do.

“I already told you I have to study for midterms, go alone or with Jay.” Your tone isn’t dead-set and Heeseung knows he’s cornered you. He smiles as an idea forms in his head, maybe he can persuade you with just enough charm, it’s worked in the past so why not now?

“I seriously can not believe Heeseung got you to come, I know he said he could do it but honestly Y/N, I thought you were stronger than that.” It’s always the same sentence or form of it. It tugs at your heart, just like in high school people in college are just as aware of how you feel for him, even he knows it himself. He plays a blind man to your feelings.

An ache begins to pump in your heart, whatever liquor Yeonjun had handed you when you stepped in seems to not be working and that night as you watch Heeseung dance with Mina, you vow to yourself silently that you'll start your process of healing from whatever feelings you have for Lee Heeseung.

A few days later Jay watches a frantic Heeseung search for his phone charger in amusement, “Missing an important call?” He quips playfully, the whole house knows why he’s so desperate to charge his dying phone. The past three days since he ditched you at TXT’s frat party you’ve been ignoring his texts, calls, and even him.

“Hyung, why are you so worried about Y/N calling? Didn't you ditch her? I wouldn’t call either if I was her,” the small comment earns Sunghoon a smack to the back of his head.

“It doesn’t matter, Y/N would never ignore me like this. All I have to do is apologize with breakfast and she’ll accept it every time, we’ve done this before and never gone a day without talking.”

The boys can’t fully grasp why Heeseung is acting the way he is, to them he sounds like a desperate boyfriend after a fight that’s resulted in the silent treatment but Heeseung has continuously said he does not feel the same towards his best friend so they write it off as some form of separation anxiety and leave his room.

“I’m surprised you’ve held out this long Y/N,” jokes a sheepish Jeongin as he takes a glance at your phone screen that’s currently being lit up by multiple unread messages from Heeseung.

“I told you I’m ready to move on, I’ll talk to him when I see fit, I just need a few more days to myself.”

He hums in response as he lifts himself off his chair reaching a hand out for you to follow, “I’m proud of you ‘s all, he’s an asshole for using your feelings against you and making you feel the way he did, you don’t deserve that at all. You deserve someone who'd never ditch you." 

Two weeks. It's been two weeks since you've spoken to Heeseung, his room is a mess with clothes and books scattered on the floor, usually you come by and help him organize things. He's had enough of this. Your contact suddenly flashes across his screen while he's out on a date, he doesn't hesitate to answer, bidding the girl he's dropping off a quick goodbye.

“Hello? Y/N? I’m really glad you called me, I have so much to ask you but guess what, I just had the most amazing date-” he’s cut off by your loud sigh and for a moment his heart drops, you've never stopped him from ranting about dates.

“Heeseung,” his name sounds foreign coming from your mouth, “we really need to talk, I have a lot to say to you so could we please meet tomorrow?” He isn't sure why but his stomach twists at your request.

The meeting between you two is quick and to Heeseung's surprise, brief. You explain to him that leaving you at a party he begged you to come to had upset you since it wasn’t his first time doing so, you also tell him that you needed the two weeks of space from not only him but everyone else to care for yourself, and you’d hoped he understood that. Of course he did, he felt shitty just thinking about the situation and promised to never do it again, to be a better "friend."

Things after your initial break from Heeseung fall back into place quickly and it's as if you never left his side, but he could tell you were different now, you refused to go with him to parties if he asked and any charming tricks he had up his sleeve fell flat when you'd respond with a hard “No.” Heeseung also noticed the interest you'd taken in Jeongin, and that made him feel things he'd never felt before. 

It’s difficult to watch you flirt with one of his best friends, on one hand he should feel happy watching your attention sway to someone else after having caught it for so many years but on the other he isn’t happy at all, to be completely honest he feels bitter at the thought of you two together. 

“You're an asshole Heeseung, like a really big one, do you know how long Y/N has been in love with you? Since we were like eight playing cops and robbers in the streets, and she loved you throughout the time that came after and every time we asked, you denied any feelings for her, but now all of a sudden you think you might love her back? Just when she's finally healing from the shit you put her through? That’s such an asshole move dude, super low of you,” and as Beomgyu’s rant subsides Heeseung stares at him puzzled, what did he ever do that was so bad to you?

“Don't give me that look, you've done so much shit to her, hell I don't know how she’s still your best friend, if I was her I’d have left you already.”

Heeseung continues to give Beomgyu the most confused look ever and with a small eye roll Beomgyu answers his question, “You use her to get what you want but never have you done anything to show her gratitude or any reciprocated feelings. All you ever do is give her hope, you act like you like her back when you need her but as soon as you get what you want, you leave her behind. It’s fucking sad dude. You're a horrible friend to her honestly.”

Heeseung’s heart burns, he’s known his whole life that he’d done this to you but to hear it laid out in front of him now, he can see how terrible it all actually is. How had you continued being his friend? If he was in your position he’d have left ages ago, but you didn’t, and that single thought is what gives Heeseung hope for you and him. He knows it’s dumb, he knows he doesn’t deserve you at all, but he wants you terribly and if he has to beg he will, if he has to lie he will, hell Heeseung would drop everyone for you. All that matters is that you stay with him, not with anyone else, and especially not with Jeongin.

Heeseung can spot you from a mile away. His smile grows wide before dropping instantly as he watches Jeongin hand you what looks to be a flower. The look on your face mirrors Jeongin’s, it’s happy and full. You've never smiled at him that way. Heeseung realizes that the only smiles you give him now are filled with sadness. His stomach knots, why does he feel so unsure of you right now. He’s never felt this much uncertainty from you ever. 

He blames it on the fact that you two haven’t been talking as much lately. He blames the short break you had because there’s no way you’d actually stop wanting to be his friend, no way he’d ever lose you. You’ve always been by his side, and it will continue to be that way, because you love him and he has you wrapped around his finger. But, Heeseung knows deep down this security can’t be fed any longer as he watches you walk past him, hand in hand with Jeongin, not a single look his way, he's lost you.

It’s proven to him in the months to come as you slowly slip out of his pinned messages, as you take him off your private stories, and he has to watch you live your life through others. Heeseung knows he’s lost you especially when all together you stop coming to his rescue, won’t pick up the phone to hear his ramblings about dates and girls. He knows he’s lost you when you tell him you’re busy and can’t do what he wants. When you send him an awkward smile and gesture to your hand entwined with Jeongin's, as if to say, "sorry I'm with him now, you're too late."

If anyone ever asks Lee Heeseung about his one true love, he’ll say your name. He’s never been sure of what love is, never found it for himself, but he knows deep down that if he’s ever loved anyone, it’s you. You were the person he called at 3am when he crashed his car into a pole, you were the same person whose dorm had housed him a multitude of times when he was too drunk to crawl back to his own, the same person who loved him for years, until you couldn’t any longer and stopped waiting on him to give you the same love back, thinking he could never give it to you.

Heeseung likes to think that in another life he wasn't a complete asshole, realized your worth sooner, and maybe even had the balls to ask you out. He pictures himself in Jeongin's place, dating through college, moving in together after, getting married, having kids, living domestically. All he can do now is dream, maybe that's why he likes to sleep so much, because in his sleep-ridden mind, you're with him.

coco’s love note: mwahahahaha did you guys like the plot twist? are we happy 😁 are we mad? should we fight heeseung?! tbh writing this fic has been a wild ride, originally i had mc & heeseung end up with one another but then I decided that no, i didn’t want that, I wanted to show the results of a toxic “relationship” running it’s course through and through, that’s why heeseung never quite admits he’s wrong/he still feels entitled to mc even till the end! I wanted to show that he’d never change, even if he did “love” mc. anyways…thoughts?! comments?! concerns?! make sure to leave a comment or rb this with anything you’d like me to know or tell me how you felt about this fic :) muah ily! ty @odxrilove for reading it for me and not letting me change it again 😁🙏

ENHYPEN TAGLIST! - yeoforce @bloom-bloom-pow @nikis-mum @yourlocalhotgf @kyublr @spoooooooooooon @enhacolor @yoongimooni @blaqpinksthectic @gyuuss @eternallyhyucks @dinosdance @simpforsung @misschubswrites @junityy @jjunry @jwonsgirl @fxckingshame @stealanity @haoreo @jxp1t-3r @chaerybae @bobariki @vatterie @tytrackfebreze @veryjeongintxtkid @w3bqrl @heefys @haechan-nahceah @telesvng @queen-klarissa @odxrilove @s00buwu @j-wyoung

[sleepyangelkami]

pastors daughter was so good 😖😖 a pt 2 would be so cool 🎀🤍

PASTORS DAUGHTER II e.williams

 ☆ WORD COUNT - 5.4K

ELLIE WILLIAMS X FEM!READER

 ☆ SUMMARY - ellie williams can't seem to stay away from the pastors daughter and a certain memory is engraved in both their minds. the only problem was, while one was all but drunk off the past image, the other was doing everything in her power to wash it away. luckily for them, one was much more intent on getting what they wanted than the other, so much so that it sufficed for them both.

 ☆ WARNINGS - homophobia, internal homophobia, kisses ;), religious 'trauma'?, reader being stupid asf, my shitty writing, innocence kink, corruption kink, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

series masterlist

ash/ashley = readers sister.

there were many things ellie williams felt that night, ecstasy, relief, pure and utter bliss. what she didn't think, however, was that it would lead to her sitting in a seat by herself in her kitchen, a hand on her forehead as she skimmed through her thoughts as if she were an absolute idiot. when her lips were on yours, wet kisses pushing roughly against your so obviously 'unkissed' pout. you were knew to it, never have kissed anyone before but how could you? when you wore a silver cross necklace so proudly, you spent most your time cooped up in the little church across the road, you couldn't ever have even gotten close enough. there was such pride that ellie had swooning through her as she placed the very first kiss ever on your lips. it was pure bliss, to finally get what she had wanted for so long, to have you right where she wanted. everything was... perfect.

until, you ran away.

almost a week had passed, no call, no text, not even a mumble of a hello in the hallway. you did everything in your power to run the opposite direction upon seeing ellie anywhere near you. suddenly, you had choir more often, you had violin class too, along with the many other clubs you had joined. suddenly, you spent near no time in your own house let alone when ellie was standing in it.

of course, guilt racked your thoughts. the way her face seemed to contort as you pulled away from her, making a sound that didn't sound as though you were happy. panic stricken face as you couldn't even look at her own heartbreaking one. guilt consumed you everywhere you went. when you sat inside a church, thinking of the very reason you had to run away, when you saw a couple holding hands knowing that it was only reminding you of ellie williams and when you saw her in the hall, when her face lit up at the sight of you and when you pushed yourself into the nearest cubicle you could find simply to avoid her.

but how could you face her now? knowing you had committed the very sin you had swore against every devil you would never do. how could you look at her knowing that every inch of you was aching to be with her, and that was so wrong.

a text caused your body to jolt ever so slightly, a vibration being sent through your leg as you glanced down at your phone in which was sitting in your lap.

it was english class and mr. lionel was currently giving out to three girls, they hadn't stopped talking upon entering the class and mr. lionel had just about enough. you glanced down at the phone, biting your bottom lip, surely, the man wouldn't notice. you had never exactly went on your phone in class, then again, no one texted you really aside from ashley but she never texted at this hour, no, she was either ditching school to sleep or in one of the classes she liked best, either way, she wouldn't be texting you at such a time. you chewed down on your bottom lip, the thought of getting caught, getting in trouble was enough to send your stomach pit falling down to your ankles. but you did, because lately you seemed to be doing just about everything you weren't supposed to. glancing down, you slowly turned your phone upwards so the screen was facing you and you could read the little words that littered across it.

unknown: hey this is max, listen i know everything happened between us but i need to see you. behind the school at 4:00. don't be late.

weird, you thought you still had maxine's contact saved but nevertheless brushed it off. your pit in your stomach grew, worsening as you opened the message to type back. you didn't want to meet her, if you did and by chance, your parents found out, you would never be let see the light of day again. but maxine needed you. and whether that was to help fix a problem or scream at her one last time you knew you owed her that much. so, you pattered your fingertips against the dark screen, ignoring the haunting feeling that someone may see you, guilt swarming your every move. you truly didn't know how to break the news to maxine and ruth that you were never permitted to speak to them again and while they seemed oh so understanding, you couldn't help the guilt that prodded against you as they hugged you for the last time. you also, as much as you'd like to admit it, couldn't keep the tears at bay that day.

"y/n." your eyes snapped towards your teacher, phone plopping back in your lap just as you sent the text through. he was giving you a suspicious eye, catching you on your phone. but he wouldn't humiliate you, not in front of your peers at least, no, he'd never, after all you were his favourite student. "can you tell me which poetic technique is shown here?"

"uhm." squirming in your seat as your eyes fell onto the board. "oxymoron, contrasting between the light and dark." mumbling so low he could barely hear you, but nonetheless he grinned and like that, he continued on with class, something you were oh so grateful for.

the end of school neared dangerously closer as you ended up in the front of maths class, scribbling down trigonometric ratios while your stomach twisted over and over, the thoughts of seeing maxine after school could only cause your brain to absolutely fry. you were thankful she had picked behind the school, no one went there after school so naturally it was the most private place to be, you wondered if she did that for you or for herself, so she could yell at you in peace. while you were sure you didn't wish to be yelled at you knew you deserved it. for the first time in that whole week, ellie williams wasn't on your mind, just those two friends that you missed ever so dearly and yet couldn't even communicate to.

as soon as the bell rang through your ears, you scooped up your pretty pink bag and stuffed all your belongings inside. with pencils almost falling out of your pencil case, you crushed everything together and zipped up your bag with great effort. you didn't so much as bid the teacher goodbye before you were on your feet, ignoring the way your mary janes skid across the hallway floors but instead focusing on how much faster you could get there, you didn't wish to be late. after all, she had specified you not do so. the school was large but thankfully you knew it like the back of your hand.

gripping the straps of your pretty bag against your shoulders, you all but ran toward the other side of the school. checking your back and over your shoulder you realised that no, you were not being followed just extra paranoid. how could you not? when you had practically burned bridges with just about everyone. you blinked heavily, readying yourself to turn the corner and be met with a very angry maxine.

you weren't met with an angry maxine because you weren't met with maxine at all.

ellie williams stood with her back to the wall, stomping out a cigarette with her foot. you stood frozen, eyes wide and at first you believed it could be some mistake, some mix up but by the way her eyes lit up when her head turned towards you, it certainly was no mistake. "y/n, you came."

you gave her a look with furrowed brows. "you pretended to be max." it wasn't a question, it was a statement.

ellie pushed her back from the wall, moving towards you. "look, i know it was fucked up, i know but y'wanna know what else is fucked up? ignoring me for a whole week." you looked around, hands holding yourself close as you hoped and prayed that no one saw the two of you conversing. something about standing with ellie made you feel so... filthy. "i mean what the fuck was that?" as bad as it sounded, the crude language felt so refreshing to hear tumbling from her lips.

your hands scratched at opposite arms. "ellie, we shouldn't do this here... now." any excuse to get yourself right out of this situation as fast as humanly possible. guilt swarmed your entire being. "i— i'm sorry, for ignoring you and for-" you sighed heavily, looking away while you fought back the burning in your irises. "for everything that happened." the wet, open mouthed kiss that made you forget jesus' name. "and i'm sorry but it's not gonna work." you were shrinking in on yourself, in your very own arms with a sad puppy look in your eyes, you bit down harshly on your bottom lip.

ellie watched you intently, arms to her eyes as she studied your own feeble ones, doing a rather shitty attempt at covering your body. "funny." she scoffed, eyes never leaving your own glasses over ones that couldn't seem to gaze into hers. "you were pretty sure it wasn't gonna happen before you kissed me too." eyes as wide as saucers, you swiftly turned your head around, worried someone may hear. you couldn't even begin to imagine what sort of reaction people would have to know that the pastors daughter had kissed a girl. "you wanna know what i think?" stepping closer to you as your breath caught in your throat, no you didn't want to know what she thought of the situation as you'd much rather there be no situation at all. "i think you're a liar." you swallowed harshly, mumbling a sheer 'stop' as she walked closer towards you. and yet, you made no movement to step back. "you liked everything about that night, admit it." her voice dropped as the dark clouds surrounded the sky seemed even darker, heavier. there was a sudden change in the atmosphere, one in which almost made you think a thunder storm was on it's way. "you wanted my lips on yours, to feel me against you, to soothe that ache between—"

she was caught off abruptly by you, who hadn't uttered a word but instead shot your hand forward instantly, shoving it over her mouth so she couldn't continue her sentence. upon shoving your hand on her mouth, you had Accidentally pushed her, she took the opportunity to seize your upper arms. she all but threw herself backwards, bringing you with her. her back hit the wall, you stood in front of her, eyes wide and breath picking up as your hand stayed on her lips, her hands on your arms.

you made a noise, one that told you and her that you didn't wish to move but you felt as though you simply had to. and she could understand, to a certain extent she supposed. you were good girl y/n who could never do any wrong, something about someone spotting you with her, the delinquent ellie williams, pressing her against a wall, was absolutely teeth rottingly addictive. she wanted someone to turn the corner, she wanted people to see, to know that the precious gem of the town y/n l/n was all hers and no one could do anything about it.

your breath slowed and your eyes racked over every perfect imperfection dotted on her face. her freckles looked lighter in this lighting and though you were a great deal smaller than her, your hand wound around the bottom half of her face easily. your chest heaved, as did hers and you could feel it. when she had practically thrown herself backwards she had let you stumble so far that you were chest to chest and horrendously flustered.

ellie however, seemed to be enjoying herself. you couldn't see her lips but you could feel her pretty smirk against the skin of your dainty hands, the way her brows relaxed and her sage eyes gave you this drunk look. to her, she did feel drunk, she was drunk off of you, your innocence, purity, kindness, your big bad secret that only she knew.

you blinked when you felt her hand against your face, though you didn't flinch nor recoil away, she saw that as a good sign. her tattooed arm was raised, hand slowly brushing against your soft skin. her thumb trailed across your cheek and towards your lips, dragging it against your pretty skin, you almost gasped out. you weren't doing this again, you couldn't.

the gentle yet sudden patter of raindrops against your head caused you to instantly pull away. "I— i have to go." you almost spat out in sheer panic. and for the second time, you ran away. but this time, ellie didn't call your name or run a hand through her hair with stress evident on her face, no.

ellie leaned against the wall, watching as you all but sprinted away from her, your pretty dress bouncing against the back of your legs, she wondered what color the fabric that sat beneath the dress was. she had this smirk on her face, one that you of course would have wished to wipe off more than anything but how couldn't she? she had seen that look in your eye, that unfamiliar lust filling your pretty irises as you raked your eyes over her face. the slight confusion to why you had felt this way and yet everything about you seemed so comforted by her and yet so so tense. she knew then and there that it was not over.

ellie still had a chance to change your mind.

"is daddy gonna go after church?" you questioned to your sister as you held the church baskets you had been cleaning close in your hands. it been three days since you spoke with ellie, it was a saturday, and it was the day that your sister and her school year had their parent teacher meetings. you were lucky, you had them at the very start of the year.

"yeah." she stomped on the cigarette and waited for it to grow damp in the soil. "said he's gonna bring mom too." this caused you to furrow your brows as you continued on your journey.

"but mama never goes to those things?" your mind couldn't stand the thought of ellie williams, how you had caved so easily. she had gotten so close to what she wanted and you couldn't let that happen. however, after three days of no contact, she no longer seemed to be around when you were, you supposed she had gotten the hint. you were relieved, to say the least and had repented for whatever sins you could that past week, however you couldn't stop that burning chest in your feeling when you thought of her. you wondered, what she thinking about you too?

your sister tsked. "yeah but they wanna get sympathy for having such a screw up of a daughter." she spoke with an almost sarcastic tone. "best way to do that is to talk to my teachers about how hard it is to raise me."

you gave her sympathetic eyes as you pushed the church doors open, mass would be starting any minute now. you were never late to mass, unless of course you walked with ashley, it happened to be one of those days. "you're not a screw up, ash." she gave you a ghost of a smile one that did not quite reach her eyes.

"thanks loser, 'ppreciate it." some said you were daises and the sun, and ashley was only orchids and the moon, a beautiful combination that never failed to amuse anyone. i mean, wouldn't it look odd? to see a girl with dark hair and hot pink highlights, chains on her jeans, her nails always painted black whether they were full or chipped, some form of polish always coating them. and then there was you, pretty natural hair sitting on your shoulders and always in a dress or a skirt, only wearing bright colors. you wore little to no makeup, not because you weren't allowed but because you simply weren't good at it. so, you opted for a natural face while your sister always had some form of eyeshadow on, her waterlines filled in black. "woah, what the fuck are you doing here?" you furrowed your brows at your sister, who was looking right over you. spinning around, you were not ready for the sight you were met with.

ellie williams cleaned up nicely when she wanted to.

she wore a brown button up and a jeans, her hair was freshly cut and her tattoo was on show. you had seen it before, of course, from the many short sleeves she wore around you however it had never been on display in front of your parents let alone in the church. speaking of which, she never came to church either. after the first night ellie had been begged to go to church with ashley, she swore off it, first, she almost dropped the baby jesus in which had been passed to her by ashley, then she had to shake a bunch of old women's hands during mass and was sat next to some kid who wouldn't stop touching her feet as they crawled around the kneeler, then she realised she couldn't even get a good view of you, the main reason she had stayed through the entire mass, because some old bald man had sat in front of her and stood too tall. she didn't go to church because she didn't believe in god too, that was a main factor she supposed. she shouldn't be here, you thought. not because she didn't deserve the right to worship the lord but because you knew by the way her eyes raked up your body that she was not here for a mass ceremony. "what? too late to get into heaven?" she shot you a glance, almost one of accusation. the truth was, you didn't think you were going to hell, how could you when you did just about everything for god himself. in fact, you were sure you were more religious than your father. but the bible was outdated, that was the reason there was a new testament. god wasn't going to punish you for feeling how you felt because if the story of god was true, he made you with every perfect imperfection, not that you'd exactly call such a thing an imperfection. sometimes, you wondered if your father truly believed that being gay was wrong because of god or if he was just hiding behind such a fact because he was scared that he truly didn't have a reason not to like someone for being such a way. "sweetheart." a smirk dancing on her lips as she nodded her head at you. yeah, she definitely did not get the hint.

you turned to your sister with a small huff. "could you put these by the benches, please?" she nodded, taking the baskets from your hands. "thank you." and you turned back to ellie williams. "you have mud on your nose." watching as her face scrunched up and her hand came up to wipe it away, her long fingers stretching— you shook your head free of the thoughts before scrambling up to the alter to get into the sacristy.

when mass started, you did everything in your power to avert your eyes from ellie williams, sitting so smugly in the audience. she knew what she was doing, spreading her legs apart with her elbows resting towards her knees, her eyes never left your face.

you, however, looked straight forward with your tight chest and mumbling words from time to time. you pretended to be interested in the sheet you were holding, following along the words in your mind as your father read them out from the top of the alter. he read smoothly, not a stutter in his voice. you longed to have such confidence, to not shake like a leaf when presenting a project, to have the confidence to look ellie fucking williams in the eye and not shy away, to have the confidence to admit it even if it was just in your mind that you felt the way you weren't supposed to. you liked the forbidden fruit. the words formed so clearly in your mind. i like gi— "and now may we rise for the holy communion." giving out holy bread, your eyes concentrated back on the task, that was you're job. well, you and three other people.

you all but scrambled towards the bowel in which held the holy bread, grasping it and going to the right of the alter, ashley went to the left and two of the church boys went to the middle, all with your own holy bread dishes. ashley was rolling her eyes, mumbling the words under her breath. one of the older women came up to her, instead of holding out their hands they opened their mouth, her eyes went wide and she turned towards you, giving you both a shocked and disgusted look. you gave her a warning look, gesturing towards your father who was watching her like a hawk. she grimaced before placing it inside the womans mouth.

giggling to yourself, you turned back with a grin on your face. it dropped suddenly at the sight of ellie williams standing in front of you, looking as innocent as ever (not). you gave her a stern look, as if to tell her stop playing her little games and especially here of all places. "body of christ." you mumbled beneath your breath as your hand moved towards the bowel once more, picking up a rounded piece of holy bread.

"amen." she said the word in the cockiest tone you had ever heard in your entire life. but you fought back an eye roll, instead you just held it up, ready to place it in her left hand, the idiot would probably hold out the right hand instead. you internally groaned, ready for her to show just how much she respects the religion. your expression blanked as she opened her mouth, sticking out her tongue. your breath stuttered, in front of everyone. no one was looking, no one cared. and yet you felt as though you were on stage with an enlarged audience.

your hand wobbled. "what are you doing?" you whispered to her, noticing how people were conversing, not bothering to glance at who was receiving holy bread and your father was too focused on ashley to so much as glance your way.

she smirked, closing her mouth momentarily. "getting my holy bread." she spoke as if it were painfully obvious. opening her mouth again, she flattened her tongue across her bottom lip, you pretended your chest didn't clench and neither did your thighs. you could imagine that tongue doing a painfully soft attack against your neck, that was all you knew could happen with a tongue. ellie, however, had many other things in mind of just where she wanted her tongue when it came to you. it was humorous, how your sinful thoughts were still somewhat innocent but ellie's... ellie's thoughts were nothing short of the devil herself's thoughts feulling into her brain. you placed the holy bread against her tongue, ignoring the way it wet your thumb ever so slightly. she closed her lips, giving you a smug type of look. "thanks, angel." and you were left with clenched thighs, dusty cheeks, flustered head and a ditsy feeling. you glanced down at the small patch of saliva on your thumb and all you could think about was that night.

"i— i think you should go." but you didn't want her to go, you really didn't want her to go.

"you wan't me here?" as a wet kiss came down to the skin of your neck, you gasped out, blinking. this was a dream, it had to be. you felt almost euphoric as her lips flattened against the crook of your neck, the way they kissed you so delicately as if you were made of glass. she moved her head back up almost instantly, as if her own actions weren't affecting her. her lips brushed against your own, so closely that you could taste her. "or here?"

you weren't proud of what you did next.

you didn't pull away nor make any attempts to get away, in fact, you reached your face up to meet her own. her face crashed down rather swiftly, so fast that you could barely register the way her lips rammed right into your own.

you had never kissed anyone before, never even thought of so aside from her. you breathed heavily, she swallowed your heaves and gasps into her own mouth, she pushed a hand up to hold your neck in place the other steady on your hip as her tongue pressed against your bottom lip.

this euphoric feeling hit you like a tonne of bricks, you suddenly felt that nothing was impossible, that this life for you was somewhat of an option. but it wasn't because euphoria doesn't last forever, it can't because there needs to be something to cancel it out so you get to feel that way. otherwise, wouldn't euphoria feel normal? that would mean that bad was despair and good simply wasn't enough. but this. this was too much.

you pulled away harshly, tears coating the glass of your eyes. " 'm sorry— 'm sorry i can't." and you ran. you ran out of the kitchen, up the stairs and right into your bedroom. you could still see that look of heartbreak on her face. you slid down the door, hand on your chest and knees bunched up. you were nothing short of an absolute idiot. you breathed heavily but this time there were no big soothing hands or the lulling that only ellie william's voice could control. you felt panic overcome you. you weren't gay. you couldn't be. and you certainly weren't falling for ellie williams.

oh, but you were, you were so desperately in love with her since the day you saw her and her stupid auburn hair or her stupid freckles, how about her stupid green eyes. stupid. stupid. stupid. but so lovely.

you sat inside your bedroom once more, fingers softly padding against your bottom lip. you were the stupid one, you were beginning to realise. it was just so hard. to love a girl so much and yet know that it was either her or everything you had ever worked for. that decision was already made, not by your father, your mother, your sister, ellie.... by you. you'd choose it over and over again.

you'd choose her.

a bang on your window caused you to jump harshly, twisting your whole body towards your window, it was dark out but you could make out ellie williams lean figure from a mile away. however, she seemed a little more entangled now. she was kicking a wire off her foot, cursing so loudly that you could hear her from the inside of your bedroom. what on earth was she doing? ashley was at the parent teacher meeting with your mother and father so it was only you inside the bedroom, alone, well, you supposed you weren't alone when you had the dits of a girl outside your bedroom window. "fuck! ow, ow!" as she almost face planted against your window. you had enough. you stood and rapidly scrambled towards the window, pulling it open and it seemed as though the girl hadn't been expecting it because she fell straight through it. "fuck, oh, that worked." she stood instantly, brushing off her jeans. she hadn't changed since the church, you, however, were already dressed in your silkiest pijamas. "hey, hello..." panting before straining her eyes back on you, she relaxed, a lazy smile on her face. "hi."

you almost laughed. almost. "do you know what time it is, ellie?" but you didn't seem mad, not by the way you shut the window for her to stay and took a seat on your window bench. she shook her head, eyes glancing around your childish yet pretty bedroom, right, she had never been in there. you silently cursed the stuffed animals sitting on your bed. her eye caught them and grinned. "aren't you supposed to be at the parent teacher meeting?"

"Oh, that shitty thing? hell no, joel already knows what a pain in his ass i am, he doesn't need to hear another ten people complain about it." waving her hand as she leaned against your dresses, glancing at the perfumes that drove her crazy whenever she passed you. "so... this is your bedroom."

she was stalling. "els?" she glanced up at the familliar nickname rolling from your lips. "what are you doing here?" she didn't respond and you fiddled with one of the stuffed animals that sat on your bench. "i don't think you should come back to the church, ellie?"

"why? because i'm gay?" as if it were an accusation, right at the fact that you too, somewhere deep inside you could admit, that you too shared the liking towards girls. and hey, you were the most popular church girl in all of your town. so why did sexuality have to define religion? short answer, it didn't, ellie knew you knew so too but she needed to know the truth, if her stares truly made you as nervous as yours made hers. she needed to know how you felt and what part she played in that.

you cocked your head to the side."no, ellie, because you're not there to 'get into heaven'." repeating her previous words back to her with a small scowl attached to your face. she wasn't there for god nor was she there for jesus. she was there for you. as much as you hated to admit it. it sounded absurd, something you never would have guessed. someone coming to church for you? it was surreal, even more so fact that she was a girl.

she tilted her head. "really? says who?" teasing. because that was just what ellie williams did best.

"ellie..." you trailed off, trying to find your words. the way her eyes raked up your body could only leave you standing silly. she knew the effect she had on you and she did it anyway, in fact, you were beginning to think that she did it because of the effect it had on you. "you don't believe in god." putting it in the most simple form you possibly could. not relating yourself. that alone was dangerous.

"no. but i believe in you." your eyes looked up. "if you're there. i'm there." your heart melted. you were on very dangerous ice ready to collapse at any second.

standing from the bench. "ellie—" she was quick to cut you off and for that you would be forever grateful.

"no." she shook her head. "i'm sorry, but we're not doing this again." she stepped closer, inching her way towards you. you could only breathe in, a sigh that you knew was coming, you knew this was coming.

and for the first time... you were ready. "okay." she inched impossibly closer. "but ellie..." you trailed off. "you have to know that if we start this— i- i won't be able to stop." god was going to punish you for this one.

"good." her hand was suddenly on your face, slowly tracing around your soft skin. "because i don't plan on stopping anytime soon, either." she leaned her face in closer, her breathe bore into your own, your head tilted up to meet hers.

this time, panic wasn't running through you, you had accepted your fate, the fact that you couldn't get away from ellie even if you tried because whether you liked it or not, you were so madly in love with your sisters best friend and that wasn't going to change, no matter how many times you sat at your bed on your knees, hands bound together and praying to god that he got rid of these feelings.

"y/n..." face so close you could feel her nose tip against yours.

you hummed, lips grazing.

" 'm gonna kiss you now." she mumbled.

"okay." you breathed.

main masterlist/ellie's masterlist

[niechys]

Now how does one know if an ask has been eaten? but I guess nevermind? I also did a few revision so I'm posting it here is stead.

So, this is a bit of my spin on @keferon #tf mecha universe. Basically an au of Transformers francise where some of the characters are human who pilot robot but some are still Cybertronian and how they interact.

First Aid is a medic turned pilot who pilot a mech haunted by Vortex.

I think we haven't explore a lot about First Aid being a freak. So Ima take some time to do just that. This should go back to before First Aid got used to connecting to Vortex.

Also an excuse to write some gore. I totally wasn't going for that but I guess I needed it.

Also probaly lots of grammar errors incoming.

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

It was in biology class when he first got to dissect an animal at school. His friends had looked at him weird because he was a little too enthusiastic about it. Most kids were curious alright, but he already knew these stuff. He read in the books and was ecstatic to see the real thing, to cut the real thing apart.

After that He learned to keep it down. To hide the sparkle in his eyes even as he entered medical school. People don't cut things open for fun. Even if he did it for study, he shouldn't be having fun doing it.

---

It started with a soft mumble.

Felix curled into a ball on the pilot seat, knees hugged tight to his chest. Restraint in place but not connected to the neural link, not touching the controls. Watching intently as Vortex sliced through monsters' limbs.

It was one of his early mission as a pilot. Hot Rod was sent out with him. The red mech fighting several hundred meters to his right. The Quintesson had sent monsters with long, jointed legs and tentacle. They looked like someone cross bred a spider crab with an octopus with a hundred arms. Except they are the size of a big building. A bunch of them together look like mountains were moving to meet them.

Vortex's twin blades cut through tentacle, splashing green blood everywhere. Sometimes he wondered if Vortex got his callsign because of this move, twirled the two blades around himself, cutting everything in his path like a tornado.

The blade hit a hard plating on one of the legs. He had to pull back before going for another tentacle instead. Or hacked at the leg until it came off. It wasn't a big trouble for Vortex, but then he heard a small voice from inside his cockpit like a whisper.

"Hit the joint"

"Under there"

"That seam there"

First Aid was still curled up in a little ball on the pilot seat, watching. Something sparkle in those blue eyes behind his visor. Mouth mumbling occasionally, telling body parts or directions.

At first Vortex ignore the words. But when he started looking for the parts First Aid says and hit them, he realized it was more effective. It's like a weak spot had been pointed out.

Amidst the carnages, text appeared on the screen, overlaying the visuals.

[Stop backseating and connect to me]

"Huh..?" Felix asked, looking around as if he could see the ghost talking to him.

[Speaking is slow. Connect to me now or I feed you to big ugly over there]

Not wanting to test Vortex's patient, First Aid reached for the neural link with trembling hands and snap it to the connector on the back of his head.

He felt like he was falling, the next second he was standing outside, face to face with the monster. A threat. A living thing waiting to be diced up. His body made of metal, his sight are not just sight but sensors and infrared and targeting module.

Killed or be kill.

His mother dragging him along as they ran for the shelter.

Scalpel making precision cut on human flesh.

Kill it before it kill you.

His hands deep in someone's torso, Pharma lecturing through the process.

Blade cutting into flesh. His hand gripping the control, forcing it to cut through the bone.

Mangled body of another pilot in the seat he had to pry off.

Tentacle with barbed tip stabbing into the cockpit, into his face.

An alien's organ kept in quarantine.

Onslaught yelling at him.

Blood in his eyes.

Pain flaring through his body

The cockpit shook violently. The monster slammed into him.

'Concentrate'

The impact pulled First Aid back to the present. Vortex's voice echoed in his head. Then he realized he was seeing memories, both his own and Vortex's.

Slowing his breath, he concentrated on the sight before him. The crabtopus monster is still there, tentacle snaking onto his -Vortex's- midsection.

He looked at the tentacle, not where it coiled, but where it came out of the body. His blade stabbed at the base of it, twisted, sliced and the tentacle came free, falling slacked from Vortex.

'You aren't half bad for a medic'

Vortex's voice in his head. He almost panic again before remembering that he was connected to Vortex and not dead. He was still capable of thoughts.

And so First Aid looked on.

The giant monster was before him, preparing to strike again. They didn't just see the enemy. But analyzing it at the same time, even as they dodged the attack and raised blades to cut with renewed surgical precision.

He was seven years old when he cried his eyes out after taking a beetle apart and realized he couldn't put them back together alive. He never wanted anything to be hurt or die.

He just wanted to know how they works. What the inside were like. He wanted to open them up. If he know how they works, surely he would know how to save them, right?

Or know how to kill them better.

The blade penetrated the seams under hard shelled armor, then pried off the shell, revealing tender flesh underneath. The monster screamed, lashing at them with tentacles. They ignored the attack, instead, Vortex stabbed at the flesh repeatedly until the monster went still.

First Aid knowledge informed Vortex's action at the speed of thought. There was no need to think. They combined mind knew how to take this thing apart effectively.

Vortex was bleeding into him. First Aid was lost in a whirlwind of violence. They tore one monster to pieces and move on, hacked the limbs off the other before stabbing it through one of the joint, deep enough that the mech's arm went inside the body and tore out god knows what from the hole.

All the ones in front of them were gone. They turned, there was another monster, half of it on fire, trying to mow down the red mech. They grabbed it, peeled it from Hot Rod's mech and slammed it to the ground. Hot Rod backed away, swaying a little on his feet.

The fire slowly died down leaving a half cooked monster, screeching, writhing fruitlessly while being pinned to the ground with Vortex's blade.

'Where's the heart?'

'I think...here...'

'Haha! look at that, you're right!'

'So that's what it looks like....'

It was still squirming. Vortex step on the head and it cracked open, green liquid splattered out.

Insects are insects. No matter the size.

You can take them apart and never have to feel guilty ever again.

+++++

"---ome in. First Aid come in. This is Hot Rod. Can you hear me?"

'why don't you answer him before I hit that guy too. He's been calling for a while' Vortex speak in his head and he came back to himself.

"oh..."

First Aid took a while to realized Hot Rod was radioing him from his mech. The fire had died down, it seems that the other mech isn't in too bad a condition.

"Hot Rod. This.....This is First Aid. I can hear you"

"How's your condition?"

"I'm...I'm alright. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm good. You stole my last kill."

"I...um...sorry...."

"Nah. Also, don't forget to put that down before return to base"

First Aid looked down and saw that the monster's heart was still skewered on Vortex's blade.

'Why don't we keep it as trophy'

"Where am I gonna keep it? It's the size of a fridge"

"Pardon?" Hot Rod asked. First Aid was still on the radio.

"Sorry I was talking to my self. I....I will return in a bit. First Aid out'

With the radio off, First Aid leaned back and let out a long breath.

He just realized he was sweating. His hands squeezed the control so hard that they were trembling. When he could let go, his palm sting.

Vortex put the heart down, using the other blade to nudge it off, then cleaved it in half while First Aid watched.

'You like that, hm?'

"I......well....yeah" he was going to deny it. But Vortex probably saw everything already. "I just want to know, okay?"

'Sure, First Aid, sure' He can just hear the grin in Vortex's voice inside his head. He could only shake his head at it.

On the way back, First Aid feel for the link on the back of his neck and disconnect.

[What. Leaving already?]

"...I...just need some time. That whole thing just now was...."

[That whole thing just now was good. We make such a good team]

"How was that good... My head is still spinning. And how would I know you won't melt my brain"

[Your brain is too freaky to melt. I like it a lot.]

"What do you even mean by that"

But First Aid heard a rattling sound echoing from somewhere in the mech like a deep rasping laughter.

He couldn't sleep that night.

------

Once the battlefield has gone quiet, the mechs returned and parameters secured, the science team and rescue squads are dispatched.

They passed the mechs on the way back. Vortex lagging far behind the others, covered in green blood, blades still slicked with what ever was inside the alien guts. Every step shaking the earth beneath.

"Don't you think this is creepy?"

"What?"

"The aliens... they are in pieces.....".

"Well, think on the bright side. Sample extraction is really easy now. They even cut the organs out for us." That would be true. Except for the ones that was turned into mince meat.

"That doesn't make this any less creepy"

"I heard the pilot used to be a medic. Maybe that's why he cut them like this"

"Why did a medic decided to pilot that thing?"

"Beats me. Some people were saying Vortex chose him"

"Poor guy"

--------

Also I want First Aid to interact with other pilots. Hod Rod seems fitting and he hasn't show up a lot so here he is.

[biscuitsandwires]

In which Danny wakes up in a weird place.... again. (pt. 4)

(pt 1 here) | (pt 2 here) | (pt 3 here)

The first thing Danny really clocked about this Damian guy, was the fact that he was very serious.

He watched as Danny came down to the ground, seemingly unsurprised that Danny was flying at all, and strode up to stand in front of him before crossing his arms over his chest.

"I'm sure you have several questions." Damian said, no beating around the bush with this guy.

"I mean, I woke up in a random mansion with a nice butler dude giving me breakfast and I don't remember how or why I'm here like, at all. So yeah, "several" isn't really cutting it."

Call him a smartass, but he was having a weird day, he'd earned it.

"Well, I will answer them as best as I can, Fenton. But you need to understand first and foremost that you cannot go home for a while."

That was... maybe the wrong thing to say to a halfa that could go wherever he wanted, whenever he wanted. Damian seemed to realize that though, somehow, and gave him a smirk.

"Sure, you can leave whenever you like. But you'll die if you do."

That was more ominous than it had any right to be, really, but Danny was ready to listen. "Alright, lay it on me."

Damian nodded, staring at him for a brief moment before turning around and marching away. "Come with me, it'll be easier to explain with visuals."

Danny snorted, but followed along, trying to keep up with Damian's brisk pace but eventually just floating after a while to keep up. Once they'd gotten to the massive set of computers in the room, the screens bigger than a theater showing, Damian sat in the chair and started typing.

Danny watched him, but after a moment, glanced up at the closest screen. What he saw made his hands clench at their sides, his heart stopping in his chest. It couldn't be...

"This is where I found you. You were lucky I made it there before any more damage was done."

It was the school gymnasium at Gotham Central, where his own school often sent their school trip students. It was blown to pieces, rubble everywhere, what looked distressingly like blood in a few places but he hoped, god he hoped it was just oil or something.

There were no signs of bodies, or anyone hurt, but that didn't mean anything. Not when there was this much damage. Hell, even anyone nearby would have gotten hurt from that.

"It was a direct attack. They did not care who they hurt, as long as they got to you."

Danny blinked, taking in the pure destruction of the place, but felt pure confusion washing over him.

He didn't remember going on a trip to Gotham. Didn't remember much past... What was the last thing he remembered?

The longer he stood there, trying to think about it, the more his head started to hurt.

"Don't injure yourself, Fenton. I'll explain everything, but you have to trust me." Damian said, simple and to the point, but with authority.

Danny stared back at him, trying to think past the fog that was building, and nodded. "Alright. I'll trust you."

For now, at least. It wouldn't be the first time somebody tried to pull a fast one and he'd gotten hurt.

He wasn't going to let it happen again.

Damian turned back to the computer, typing up more things on more screens, and Danny could only stand there, bracing himself for the ride.

[nyuusayuri]

My "handsome" Stalker

Ateez Choi San x Reader (SMUT)

Warnings: stalking, signs of violence, dirty talk, possessive behavior, smut

For your information: I made up this story 10 years ago (when I was around 14-15), so I apologize if some things sound weird or rushed, but I wanted to keep as much of the original as possible.

In the middle of the forest, I got a strange feeling. A feeling I only had when something was wrong. And something was definitely not right here. I stopped and looked around carefully. It was getting a bit dark, but I didn't care. My eyes were good enough to see everything around me. When I looked back ahead, he was there. The man who hadn't left me alone for quite some time. He constantly followed me everywhere, never took his eyes off me, and allowed me no privacy. Who was this guy? A sick stalker?! Everything pointed to that being the case. I stared stubbornly into his eyes, which he hid behind black sunglasses. You could hardly see him. The only thing visible were his black hair. The rest was concealed under a black leather jacket, jeans, and black boots. Around his mouth and nose, he wore a mask.

It was intimidating to stand in front of a completely black figure that you didn't know, who was always stalking you, and was now out in the forest as it was getting darker. My limbs had stiffened, and I couldn't move an inch. "What... what do you want from me?!" As hard as it was for me, in all that fear, I tried not to show my anxiety. Did I even want to know what he wanted from me? Probably not. My gaze was fixed on him, but he didn't respond; he simply disappeared behind the bushes. Still frozen and shocked from the unexpected encounter with the unknown stalker, I stood there. Only after a while did the stiffness in my joints fade, and I continued walking through the small forest area toward my home. I took off my shoes and ignored the screaming of my quarrelsome parents, like I did every time, and went straight to my room, just to free myself from my jacket, throwing it onto the small sofa in my room and collapsing, with a loud sigh, into my cozy warm bed. Immediately, my eyelids, heavy from exhaustion, fell shut, and I drifted off into my own land with my own rules.

3 Weeks later

I was slowly fed up. This guy was still stalking me, and now the new bad boy at our school was also in the picture to annoy me. Jae and Sora helped me stay out of his way, but one day it had to happen. Unfortunately, that day was today. He and I had to work together on the same project, that's how we ended up at my house, and I swear I was so close to tearing his head off! He could never keep his hands to himself, and if my little sister wasn't here, he would have been dead a long time ago! I hated this guy so much! "San! Could you please focus on the screen and not on my cleavage?!" I shot him venomous glances, but he didn't seem to be impressed, because instead of trembling with fear, he just laughed. Had I mentioned that I hated this guy?! Because I'd gladly say it again. I hated him! "But you have two far more interesting toys to offer."

Disgusted, I redirected my gaze to the laptop in front of me and began searching for more information about Seoul before our time. After hours, we were both fed up, and it was already getting dark. Since I didn't want him to think about spending the night here, I dragged him straight to the front door. Unfortunately, my parents caught me in all the haste. They still believed that I should finally get a boyfriend, and they were okay with absolutely anyone at the moment. Just not for me. "Y/N sweetheart? Why are you in such a hurry with that poor guy?" I interrupted my mom before she could continue. "I have a lot to do, Mom. San should really be going now." Without waiting for another word, from anyone, I shoved him out the door and slammed it behind me. My parents just looked at me with wide eyes, confusion written on their foreheads. They were the kind of parents who never understood teenagers like me. So I didn't care any further because I knew it wouldn't do any good and immediately disappeared back into "My" realm. "What an idiot! If my parents dare to hook me up with him, I swear I'm gonna jump off a bridge!" I muttered, slightly annoyed.

Yes, I was easily provoked and thrown off course in the evenings. Grumbling, I threw myself onto the bed, pulled the blanket over me, switched off my bedside lamp, and fell immediately into a deep, dreamless sleep. The next morning, I had no desire to go to school. Especially because I had to see him again. It would be even worse if I had to see them both. If I encountered that weird guy from the forest in the same spot again. The thought sent chills down my spine. He scared me, but still... there was something intriguing about him that drew me in. Yes, it really sounded like I was losing my mind, but I was definitely still sane. That's why it felt so strange to me. After arriving at school, I initially had my peace and quiet. Jae and Sora weren't there today, so I could wander around alone all day. I actually had many friends at school, but I only hung out with those I cared about more.

With the others, I would just be bored and wouldn't fit into the group at all. And I could definitely do without that. So, I preferred to sit in a quiet place, put on my headphones, and listen to music. It was a nice feeling to be able to be by myself. At home, I had my family, who usually got on my nerves, and here I had my two friends, who constantly talked about some celebrities, fashion, or other stuff while I just stood there, lost in my thoughts. Today, I had settled once again into my usual spot and listened to Taeyeon's beautiful voice in her song "I." One of the few songs that calmed me down so much that I could relax deeply and everything around me felt like air.

After a while, I looked at the clock on my phone and realized that class was starting again. Thank goodness I had developed a sense for that, otherwise, I would have been late. Sighing, I sank down into my seat and rested my head on my hand. It was so boring without the two of them. But only in class. Suddenly, the shrieking of the girls echoed through the room, causing me to cover my ears and look in the direction where they had all gathered. Who else stood in the doorway? Of course. Choi fucking San. Why else would the girls start screeching like that? Without a word, I just walked right past them and couldn't help but feel his gaze on the back of my neck. Creep.

After school, the feeling of being followed overcame me again. I kept turning around and looking at the surroundings, but I saw no one following me. The few people who were walking around ignored me or gave me confused looks. Shrugging my shoulders, I continued walking. When I arrived home, it was really quiet. That had never happened before. For the past two years, there had always been pure terror as soon as I got home. After all this time, it was quiet in the house, but I didn't like it. Before I went to my room, I crossed the entire house and looked around. Everyone was gone. No one there. Strange. I was still quite uneasy, but I tried to ignore it and went to my room. My phone suddenly flashed and showed me a message from my mother. Apparently my parents and my sister are currently at the doctor's because she had the brilliant idea of ​​eating nuts at school despite her nut allergy. Can't say I was surprised to hear that.

Immediately, I sat down to do my homework because, 1. I wanted to get it done as quickly as possible, and 2. I knew I'd be sitting there for hours again. "Finally! Done." I exhaled and leaned back in my chair. After three hours, I had finally finished. To be honest, I was the kind of person who always got distracted by something without meaning to. That's why I spent a bit longer than others on my homework. When my stomach finally started growling, I walked into the kitchen, grabbed the leftovers from the casserole in the fridge, put it on a plate, and popped it in the microwave while leaning against the counter in our kitchen. Bing. I jumped up, took the plate out of the microwave, and sat down on the sofa, switching on the TV at the same time. I always watched TV while eating. It was completely normal for me.

Something shattered behind me. A small scream escaped my throat, and I immediately looked behind me in the apartment. No one there. But what was that? On the shelf above the TV, we had katanas on display. I couldn't handle those things, but it was better than being unarmed. I quickly grabbed one of the katanas, carefully took it out of its sheath, and walked cautiously in the direction from which the noise originated.

Keeping the sword poised in front of me, I walked through the hallway and discovered my mother's vase shattered on the floor. I almost stepped on the shards. I walked around it in a wide arc and moved toward my father's office. Light was on, and the door was ajar. Suddenly, I saw a shadow beneath the door. I felt fear. Real fear. Any sane person would have screamed and run out of the house, calling for help. But I was different in this situation. What I was doing was the last thing anyone should do.

The door slowly opened, and I held the sword ready to confront the intruder. My eyes widened when I saw who stood before me. The guy who kept stalking me. He was here. In my house! Oh my God! What now? I was frozen. My hands trembled with uncertainty. The last bit of my courage had vanished. The guy slowly approached me cautiously, reaching for his mask that covered half of his face and slowly pulled it down. At the same time, he removed his sunglasses. Did I want to see what creature was beneath that mask? I squinted my eyes and bit down hard on my lower lip. My heart raced uncontrollably, and the adrenaline surged through my blood, making me feel so nervous and restless I could hardly stand. I had never felt as much fear in my entire life as I did in that moment. "Look at me, Y/N." That voice. I knew it. Could it be? Was it really him? Hesitantly, I opened my eyes and immediately looked into the face of the person I hated most. Choi San stood right in front of me. He was the stalker?! Was this guy joking with me?! Angrily, I put the katana down and glared at him with hatred.

"Have you lost your mind scaring me like this?! Do that again, and I'll rip your head off!" I shouted at him, and he flinched slightly before grabbing my wrists and slamming me roughly against the wall. His face was uncomfortably close, and not a second later, as I was thinking about it, his lips were on mine. I fought with all my strength, but he was ten times stronger than me, so I eventually gave in. Still reluctantly, I reciprocated his kiss, and he immediately made it more demanding and wild. I didn't know why, but over time, I let him overpower me. I surrendered completely as he started covering my neck with kisses and sometimes began sucking on it. We then moved into my room; he immediately shoved me onto my bed and knelt over me. Again, he placed his lips on mine, and I automatically wrapped my arms around his neck to pull him even closer to me. Why did I suddenly have this desire for him? None of this made any sense. I hated him! And yet, here I was, wildly making out beneath him. His fingers slid under my shirt and slowly pushed it up. He stroked my stomach while sucking on my neck. Tomorrow, I would definitely have a hickey there.

Jae and Sora were back today. That mainly took away the boredom. It had been two weeks already, but I constantly thought back to that one night when he was with me and kissed me. But the worst part of it all was that I had reciprocated, and if my parents hadn't come home that evening, I probably would have... Oh God, please no! Not with him! Anything but that! My aching cheek brought me back to reality. My two friends were standing in front of me, and Sora had slapped me. That was the only way to pull me out of my daydreams. Still, it hurt. "Sora~. What was that for? That hurts." I whined with a pout. She just placed her hands on her hips and looked at me sternly. "Then stop daydreaming when I'm talking to you. You know how much I hate being ignored." Oh yes, that was true. And how much she hated it. Just as much as being interrupted. If she ever got a boyfriend, I hoped for him that he was deaf-mute.

He pulled my shirt over my head and pinned my wrists to the bed. I hadn't expected that. A bit surprised and nervous at the same time, I looked at him. "S-San? What-..." "Shh. Don't be afraid. I won't hurt you. You mean way too much to me," he murmured against my lips, interrupting me and teasingly licking them. He was driving me crazy. I was already feeling so hot, and my body was practically screaming for him. He sat up and took off his coat and shirt as well. Could you believe it? He had an incredibly well-trained body, and so many tattoos adorned him, making him even more attractive. "Do you like what you see?" he grinned cheekily at me, and only now did I realize that I was staring. I turned my face away, blushing slightly, but didn't answer him. Again, he leaned down for another wild kiss and captured my lips. Suddenly, the front door slammed open, and we both stared in shock in that direction. Then our eyes met again. San pulled his clothes back on, freed me from my restraints, and ran to my window. "See you later," he winked at me and then jumped out of the window. Completely dazed, I remained lying in bed.

A few days later

Suddenly students started to run past us outside and formed a circle around a spot. What the hell? My expression became serious, and I marched outside to the yard with my friends directly behind me. I stopped and saw... my best friend and San? What had Wooyong done? He was the nicest person I knew and was pretty much always with me. Jae always said he wanted something from me, but I couldn't believe that. He was my best friend and nothing more. San seemed to be the one who was angry. I could tell by his gaze. He was tearing Wooyoung apart with just his eyes. I walked up to the two of them and stood between the two fighters. "What's going on here?!" I said seriously, crossing my arms over my chest. San simply ignored me, walked up to him, grabbed him by the collar, and whispered something in his ear that I unfortunately couldn't hear. I immediately pulled him away from Wooyoung, who shot him an angry look before disappearing into the school building, taking half the students with him. The rest scattered across the schoolyard. I could only shake my head and walked over to my best friend. "Wooyoung. Are you okay? What was that about?" "Nothing! That's none of your business." He turned around and just walked away. I watched him with wide eyes. What was that all about?

After school, I felt again that I was being followed. This time, I didn't care since I knew who it was, and I definitely had no fear of him. Out of nowhere I was grabbed by the arm and pulled into a wooded area. Totally surprised, I looked at the back of San's head and was literally forced to follow him. "San, what the hell? Let me go!" He didn't say anything but just kept pulling me along. Eventually, we arrived in a big backyard. "Wait a minute. Isn't this... my backyard?!" I looked at San, somewhat confused. However, he averted his gaze and pulled me into the house. He shoved me into my room and locked the door behind him. He angrily approached me and pushed me onto my bed, leaning over me and looking into my eyes intently. "Stay away from him! Do you understand?!" I blinked several times to comprehend what he meant. "What... what do you mean by that?" He sighed and lowered his head for a moment before looking back into my eyes. "Your friend just wants to get into your pants. Don't fall for that fraud!" "What?! Wooyoung is my best friend! He would never do that!" "Oh, really? Are you sure?" he said still seriously, leaning even closer to me. "Kim Sook. She was very close friends with him for two years until they ended up in bed, and then he left her hanging. My friend Mingi's sister didn't fare any better. So how do you know it would be different for you?! Do you really think I'd let that happen?!" he nearly shouted at me, and I stayed calm out of fear.

For a while, we stared into each other's eyes in silence. He was still so close to me; it made me quite nervous, but it also calmed me down. His closeness and warmth soothed me just like the wonderful, musky scent of his aftershave. Slowly, he bridged the last few centimeters and I could feel those wonderful, soft lips on mine. It was just a brief kiss, but it awakened so much within me. "I don't want to lose you to him," he whispered against my lips and kissed me again, this time with more pressure. I couldn't resist this guy, so I immediately wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer to me. He supported himself on his forearms on either side of my head and let the kiss become more passionate while one of his hands glided from my neck down my entire body. A pleasurable shiver ran down my spine, and it felt like it was getting warmer in my room. His hand wandered under my shirt and slowly lifted it. His tongue teased over my lips, and I willingly opened them for him. San's tongue explored my mouth, played with mine, and with both hands, he massaged my breasts. Things got hotter and he leaned down to my neck, gently kissing his way down to my breasts, pulling my shirt and bra off. Normally, I would have turned red with shame, but at that moment, I was too aroused by the hot curly head above me.

His gaze devoured me, and he licked his lips seductively before leaning down to my breasts, circling my nipples with his tongue. Moaning softly, I scratched lightly down his back, enjoying the teasing of my breasts. Occasionally, he would bite lightly and suck on them. It was driving me insane, and my core started tingling with excitement. Impatiently, I squirmed beneath him and noticed his dirty grin as he kissed down my stomach. He wouldn't dare...?! No second later, my legs were pushed further apart, and I saw his head disappear between my legs. "San, stop that!" A bit embarrassed, I tried to stop him, grabbing his hair, but in the next moment, I had to stifle a moan and instinctively clutched his hair tightly. My strength slipped away in an instant, and I sank back into the pillows. He blissfully ran his long tongue along my wet core, skillfully teasing my sensitive pearl with the tip of his tongue, which only made me moan louder, my hips involuntarily arching up to meet him. His lips wrapped around my pearl, and he sucked on it hard, licking teasingly over my entrance while grinning at me. I couldn't do anything but surrender completely and let this man drive me crazy.

Moaning, I pulled on his hair and moved my hips against him, feeling that I was getting closer to my long-desired climax. Just a few more seconds, and I would finally go over the edge after his sweet torture on my sensitive clit. "San! Fuck!" I cried out, clutching his hair tighter, pulling on it as I arched my back and climaxed. Never in my life had an orgasm been as overwhelming as this one. Breathless and totally surprised, I looked at San, who was smirking cheekily, eliciting one last whimper from me followed by a reflexive arching of my hips as his tongue glided one last time over my now pulsating core. He kissed his way back up to me, sucking onto a spot behind my ear. I bit my lower lip to stifle any revealing sound, but just the tension in my body seemed to let him know that it was that spot I liked the most, and he traced it with his tongue. "Do you like that?" he whispered into my ear with his rough, deep voice, bringing another whimper out of me, and the only thing I could manage was a weak nod. San looked at me and didn't even try to hide his smug grin, to which I just rolled my eyes.

My gaze traveled along his face to his full, rosy lips, just waiting to press themselves back onto mine, showering me with their gentleness. "Do you want more?" It was just a soft whisper brushing against my lips that sent indescribable goosebumps down my spine, yet it was enough to stir up my loins and reflexively make my head nod slightly, though forcefully. God, what was this guy doing to me? Grinning, San stood up from me, and I became witness to an incredibly hot strip tease. It hadn't even occurred to me that he still had all his clothes on. But that I was getting this private show right now made me all the happier, and I could hardly wait to feel him inside me. To be taken shamelessly yet tenderly and passionately. He was driving me completely mad, and my clarity was dwindling as I was led to unleash the woman that had been slumbering inside me this whole time. A fiery young woman who had been waiting for the man who would cloud all her senses and send her to cloud nine, making her forget where up and down were. I immediately shook my head and tried to regain some clarity of mind.

This guy had managed to make me aroused just by my thoughts of the tattooed, dominant, and hot man who had such an incredibly bright smile and could easily wrap any woman around his finger. I still couldn't take my eyes away from that incredibly hot six-pack, scrutinizing every single one of his tattoos in detail. I just caught on the side how he grinned at me and slowly moved back toward my bed. Like a predator, he crawled toward me, pushing me back into the pillows. Again, he came so close, and his gaze made me hold my breath for a moment. His eyes were full of lust, and even his breath became a bit shallower, while his skin felt burning hot. "Do you have any idea how damn sexy you look? So helpless and so aroused. And all because of me." His rough voice made my core pulse even stronger, and I instinctively squirmed beneath him.

With a glazed look, he watched me until he grabbed my legs, spreading them apart and lying between them. He pressed his lips demandingly against mine and immediately deepened the kiss into a wild and intense tongue dance. San sucked on my tongue, licking and playing with it while his hands began to travel down my legs. Gently, he ran his right hand along my inner thigh to my core and paused just before reaching it. A bit confused, I was about to break the kiss and ask him what he was planning, when suddenly I felt something hard and pulsing at my entrance. Slowly and carefully, making sure not to hurt me, he entered my hot tightness. Piece by piece, deeper and deeper until he was fully buried inside me, letting out a quiet moan. With steady movements, he slowly thrust into me and gradually picked up speed, pounding harder and harder. "Oh my God. San!" Overwhelmed by this sudden and indescribable feeling as he thrust into me, I nearly screamed and clung to his back. "Found you."

Grinning, he grabbed my hips, pulling me closer to him and let his pelvis hit hard against mine. His thrusts became deeper and faster, and each time he hit that one spot inside me, drawing the most beautiful sounds from me and truly sending me to cloud nine. San's hands clutched the pillows beside my head, and his incredible hip movements grew more uncontrolled as he panted. I instinctively wrapped my legs around his waist and let him drive me onward. Finally, we both soared together over the edge and screamed each other's names into the room. Breathless and totally spent, he fell beside me after pulling out and draped the blanket over our bodies. "That was..." "Yes, that... was it," I finished his sentence, looking at him with a weak smile as I breathed heavily, which he returned by pulling me into his strong arms. "I love you, Y/N." That was the last thing I heard before my eyes fell shut and I drifted off into dreamland.

[wannawritefast]

Comfortember 2023 Day 6: “Notes”

A/N: My sporadic contribution to Comfortember. It’s short but Johnny Cage bbs come get y’all juice. It’s my birth month and I’m closing in on the end of my semester so I can’t promise anything but please enjoy!!

Pairing: Johnny Cage x Reader

Warnings: none, fluff :)

Notes. Johnny left them everywhere. Don’t get him wrong. He definitely preferred the convenience of using his phone to send you little memos. It was instant and Johnny could really accommodate his own attention span by using his phone but when he found out on accident how much you loved them, he made a point of it.

You both still remembered the first of its kind.

A pink sticky note on the back of your script that said “And it was all a dream!” with the most hastily-drawn smiley face ever.

You laughed when you saw it. It was a miracle that it hadn’t become a casualty to the rough handling of your scripts before you discovered it.

He had to have done it when you were putting your post-its in your script, marking it up the night before. You hadn’t thought much of the clumsy kiss he gave you when he checked in as the sun went down. Then again you hadn’t been paying that close attention to him or anything else for that matter. A glass of water. A “How’s it going, baby?” A stumble and a peck. And his leg and hand knocking right into the back of the thick stack of 8.5 by 11 copy paper in your grasp as he had moved to sit next to you.

The bump into the script in your hand had been completely intentional, you realized with delight at the table read. It made your Instagram story in seconds accompanied by the words ‘original illustration by @johnny.cage’ and some pink hearts in the top right corner.

That had sealed it.

The next one you found was in your purse. Well, not your purse exactly. It was in the compact in your purse. Blue. “Hey, good-lookin.’” A winky face. It had fluttered out as you were landing out of the country for a shoot. You still had your neck pillow on. You sent Johnny one of the ugliest selfies you had ever taken with it. Against your protests, it became his lock screen photo.

Then they truly popped up everywhere. Your boyfriend was relentless.

A set of expensive rings you’d stared at a little too long on Rodeo. Purple sticky note. “For my precious.” A noble but indecent-looking stick figure attempt at Gollum was near it, partially scribbled out.

Surprise coffee in your trailer. Yellow note. Sunshine with sunglasses.

New boots, courtesy of Johnny. Pink. “Step on me in these.”

Sleeping in while he had left at the crack of dawn. Pink. “Busy all day. Sushi at our regular spot for dinner.” Heart.

Almost all of them made your Instagram story. The dick that looked like it had been drawn by a middle school boy on a blue sticky note slapped to the bathroom mirror, for example, hadn’t made the cut. The ones that did though… Johnny reposted each within 5 minutes, no matter what time it was.

Like the orange sticky note you woke up to under your glasses that said ‘Jinkies!’ You had gone to bed and left them on your nightstand at 4 am. Johnny had stayed up with you. He had left at 6 am for the day. It made you worry about his sleep schedule.

It didn’t matter that you couldn’t keep up with his god-like speed in making unique sticky notes. You posted them. And you kept and remembered all of them. All of them. Yes, even the blue doodle dick.

Again, Johnny definitely preferred sending you texts and voice memos as soon as he felt like you were forgetting how hot you were, which was usually several times a day. It should also be noted that the sticky notes never detracted from the amount of attention he was already giving you. Johnny was a beast at reminding you how much he loved you.

As he had said it once: “There’s no threshold, baby. I’ll die telling you how sexy your walker is; the last sticky note I ever leave you will tell you the same thing.”

He slapped one on your ass after he had said that. Yellow. “Johnny Cage wuz here.”