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Animal Games A Lawlight Gone Girl AU (Part Two) Part One 7.4k words Read on AO3 L has moved his lovely, vile, and entirely batshit husband out of their beautiful Brooklyn brownstone into a Missouri suburb, then left him to his own devices. He is under the impression that this is going to end well. In this part: Light gets to say his piece. Content notes: Deals substantially with concerning age dynamics, as well as racism and homophobia; a few slurs are present. Light is as vile as ever. Past childhood abuse is discussed. Suicide is repeatedly invoked, albeit in a way that parallels Gone Girl. There's some arguably disordered eating. Thank you so much to @lightyaoigami for doing so much research and holding hands in worldbuilding and character creation! Everything about New York comes from Monica, and so do all the designer clothes, L's midlife crisis car, and a great deal of the characterization. Monica did so much that it's honestly kind of hard to describe all of it; imo all the best parts of this fic come from her.
I gave him a chance to save himself. You understand this.
I know he's going to make himself out to be the fucking victim in all of this because he always has to be the victim. Oh, poor me, I grew up in foster care and I never got the stable, white-picket-fence life that no one else has in the first place -- come the fuck on. What does that have to do with anything?
I had a perfectly nice life in Brooklyn. I had friends. Friends don't come easily to me, I'll admit that, but I made them anyway. I had a beautiful little apartment in Cobble Hill with real brick walls and portes-fenĂȘtres that opened onto a wrought-iron Juliette balcony and a coffee shop a three minute walk away where I could drink real espresso and eat honey-lemon cornmeal cake and do the work he thinks is so pathetically beneath me which by the way, it isn't. I liked it. It was my job. He worked for a fucking fashion magazine, for god's sake. He wrote about pants and peplums. It wasn't exactly hard-hitting news.
It isn't as if I didn't earn any of what I had because I grew up in a two-story.
Why should I have to throw all of that out because he thought it might be nice to have a lawn when he was seven years old? [continue]
#death note#fic#lawlight#light yagami#l lawliet#ok here it is!!#this was very fun to write and it was fun largely bc it felt like a group project (in a good way) with monica#i cut this off just before light really got going dfgjldfgjl please read the content notes and decide if u want to read the rest#also in this fic: matsuda is here albeit briefly and is a good friend to light actually#L chews on a $1.5k hoodie#light names a cat after himself#also: unreliable narrators abound#.pages#fic: animal games#i actually have no idea what light means by âreal espressoâ heâs just being pretentious#like he thinks its imported & that this is unusual for coffee and in any way important or something#he doesnt really know what hes talking about#i could not work this in but hes also convinced thats an independent shop even though its a chain#i am also like this about a local shop so i mean i canât totally fault him for that#every time i see another outlet i just block it from my memory#same with his portes-fenetres theyâre literally just french windows
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Any other trans girl out there who plays the bass? x)
Some years ago, I wanted to make a virtual band with my OCs. I've always loved music and had the chance to be in a couple of local bands, but nothing that lasted long enough. I mostly played the drums x) but since then I wanted to make my own project. In this virtual band, Avelyn plays the bass! Elizabeth plays the guitar, and (I hope you know them, but will understand if you don't x) You will soon!) Giselle plays the guitar too, Eris plays the drums, and Valerie plays the piano/keyboard.
This year I want to start making music again, and compose things I'd love them to play! Also because I have a couple of ideas in mind for animations, and I want to make the music for them -u- So I've set a goal on Ko-Fi (https://ko-fi.com/samlizzy71) in case anyone wants to help! As always, donating is completely voluntary! I took the chance to draw this and ask for your help since Lynn's birthday is next month (February 19) so this will also count as her birthday gift <3
Hope you like it, and this will soon be available as a poster at my Redbubble store!
#lgbtq#transgender#original character#lgbt#animedrawing#original characters#trans pride#trans#Avelyn Stiller#But I swear you're really pretty
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pussy-drunk!purinz relieve your stress
roommate!purinz x reader, university!au
smut, 1.4k wc
for the lovely @strawbsj whose bday is todayyy!!! sorry if it's not that great jwannie bestie, it's VERY MUCH RUSHED n barely proofread (might fix later on), but I wanted to give u something today and what's better than purinz eating u out as a gift! (and I'm so sorry it's late ajhfsjgd)
your finals are coming up and wow, is it stressful. I mean it's evident in the distressed faces of your fellow classmates roaming the campus, rushing to the local cafes and library to squeeze in every single bit of study time they can so they don't fail. and you've been no different, hiding away in your room, slaving away at ur notebook with your head in your textbooks and a laptop in front of you.
your roommates yunjin and chaewon are completely chill honestly, they're already done with their projects they need to turn in and have no written exams, having chosen arts majors. they pity you, feeling bad sitting on the living room couch, staring at your closed door, wondering if you're even alive since they can barely hear any noise coming from your room.
having chosen a more studious major than your roommates always meant you were working hard at all times while they were js kinda there? they would always try to help you by making u food, getting you water, doing the chores for you, checking up on you, being sweet and all that. but after hours, 12 to be exact, of you studying, they thought that was enough, you desperately needed A FUCKING BREAK.
you were so zoned in on your work that u didn't hear the door creak open. ur study playlist played softly in the background as u jump, feeling hands land on ur bare shoulders. you blink away from your notes and look up at the concerned looking chaewon looking down at you.
"y/n-ie, that's enough..." her voice was almost a whisper, laced with worry.
"seriously, you've been at this for the entire day, take a break, eat properly, SLEEP?" yunjin reiterates behind her, form slowly coming into view.
you sigh out, leaning back against chaewon's relaxing massage on your shoulders. u didn't realize how exhausted you were until you stopped what u were doing, legs restless, eyes twitching, fingers sore, back hurting.
"I'm just really stressed and worried about this guys," you reply back.
"we know, but killing yourself over this isn't gonna help cutie," the taller girl shifts to move in front of you, closing your laptop and books, holding your worn out hands with her own.
"I don't know how to NOT overwork myself, you guys know that..."
the two girls exchange a look before looking back down at you.
"yeah, so let us help you," chaewon leans into your ear and sighs against it.
you feel a chill run down your spine and suddenly your hands turn clammy in yunjin's hold, the girl in front of you looking down at you with sweet but dark eyes.
"w-what?" you nervously ask.
"shhhh, let us do the work baby," chaewon's lips ghost the skin on your neck before placing deep wet kisses on them.
you immediately whimper at the sensation, throwing your head back against her shoulder. you grip yunjin's hands tighter, eyes closing at how good the short haired girl's mouth felt on you. u didn't even continue to question what was happening anymore, everything feeling too good to care and the exhaustion hitting you too hard to resist.
you hear rustling from in front of you amidst the wet noises next to your ear, feeling your bottoms fall to the ground and legs shift apart. u widen your eyes at the girl between your legs, placing sweet kisses against your thighs.
"jen-" you begin before she interrupts you.
"don't try to stop it, just relax," yunjin mumbles against your skin before dragging her tongue across your already leaking slit.
"fuckkkkkk," you moan out, the sensations tingling against your body intensely.
you lace both your hands into their hair separately, holding chaewon's head against your neck and yunjin's head against your pussy. their mouths moved so deliciously against your body, making your back arch in your shitty uncomfy dorm room chair.
you feel yunjin's strong hands grip your thighs apart firmly, making sure u couldn't close them, forcing you to take all of her pleasure. chaewon's hands occupied themselves as well, slipping up your tight-fitting tank top, thumbs circling your hardened nipples.
"you like that, sweet thing? does yunnie's tongue feel good lapping at your pussy? like how I just pincchhhh your little nips?" she emphasizes her words as her actions obeyed her command.
"chaewonnie ahh~!" you mewl, thrashing your head around at the stimulation.
yunjin's tongue was so deep inside of you, moving extremely expertly against your clenching walls, her nose rubbing your clit rhythmically. chaewon's mouth kept leaving sloppy kisses all over your neck, shoulders, jaw, and chest, even leaning over to reach it and leave marks. her fingers were so aggressive, never letting your nipples take a break.
it felt so fucking good. your mind was completely clouded with lust as the two girls fucked you for their own pleasure, addicted to the way your body reacted to each and every one of their touches. your grips on them tightened as every thrust of yunjin's tongue hit that delicious spot within you, chaewon's panting against your ear heightening your already overwhelming pleasure.
with the deep groan of yunjin's mouth against your cunt, the vibrations sent you into a blinding orgasm, a series of high pitched whines and whimpers leaking from your lips, back arching off the chair completely. your moans filled the girls' ears, filling them with more lust and desire than ever.
your body collapsed against the chair again as you released deep breaths through the aftermath of your climax. suddenly, you're being pulled up and thrown gently against your plush mattress, feeling your legs forced open once again.
you panic and pry your eyes wide open, looking down at chaewon now between your trembling thighs. "chae, wait wait- fuck!"
she ignores your cries as her tongue laps at the cum you released from your last orgasm, sucking and slurping your sensitive pussy lips. whimpers leak from you as her mouth forces her way around your cunt. you try pushing her head away from your center but your efforts fail as yunjin comes behind you, resting your body against her chest and effectively holding your hands behind your back.
"nuh-uh babe, don't even think about stopping this. just relax..." she breathes out against your ear before turning to capture your mouth with her own.
she kisses you breathlessly, taking the oxygen from your lungs. your whines are completely drowned out by the tongue being shoved down your throat, choking on yunjin's and your own combined spit, the sounds of chaewon's slurping under you making your eyes roll back.
your abused clit throbs and hole clenches around chaewon's greedy tongue, unable to thrash really at all due to the two girls forcing your body to move as they want. the pleasure was way too much, your body couldn't stop jerking at every single swipe of the girls' tongues against you. it almost hurt, how much arousal brewed in your stomach, just anticipating exploding.
yunjin finally releases your mouth and you immediately let out heaving breaths against her lips, tears welling up in your eyes at the sensations crawling across your body.
"fuck fuck fuck fuck..." you chant against yunjin, her holding you against her chest, caressing your skin.
"shhhh, you're okay doll," she coos.
"I... can't, no more," you start sobbing.
"don't resist, just feel..." yunjin kisses across your face.
"cumming, cumming!" you announce with an incomplete cry, ur voice cracking as you yelp helplessly, legs and body shaking uncontrollably.
chaewon doesn't stop her eating, continuing to devour you between your legs. you scream in sobs at her mercilessness, unable to handle anymore, your sensitive cunt red and worn out.
"okay chaewonnie, that's enough," yunjin sighs, grabbing the short-haired girl by her bob and pulling her back, away from your pussy.
your silent sobs don't wipe the lust-filled stare chaewon has in her eyes. you feel small against yunjin's grasp and chaewon's warm hands on your inner thighs.
"we're not fucking done, not even close..." chaewon heaves.
yunjin chuckles sinisterly in your ear, "mm-mm, no we're not."
you tremble and stiffen, the taller girl behind you swiping her long digits across your sloppy slit, gathering slick and dragging her tongue along it.
"y/n's way too fucking sweet and delicious to stop."
#ffos shorts#yunjin#chaewon#le sserafim#huh yunjin#jennifer huh#kim chaewon#le sserafim yunjin#le sserafim chaewon#le sserafim x reader#le sserafim smut#le sserafim fanfic#yunjin smut#yunjin fanfic#yunjin x reader#chaewon smut#chaewon x reader#chaewon fanfic#girl group smut#girl group x reader#girl group fanfic#kpop gg#fanfiction#kpop#purinz#sakura#kazuha#eunchae
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jjk characters at american highschool Ëââź
iâve been seeing this silly headcannons all over tiktok for other anime so i thought iâd make a jjk version but hereâs the type of student i think characters would be at an american school :]
characters: yuji, megumi, nobara, gojo
yuji itadori
never has a ride and failed his drivers test
genuinely tries to pay attention but never has any idea whatâs going on
âclass clownâ but is actually kinda funny unintentionally
wears sports brands for all his clothing
goes off campus for lunch everyday even if he isnât supposed to
gets invited to every party but never ever goes
âiâll do it for a dollarâ
does no extra curricular school activities despite a bunch of his peers asking him to join their teams and stuff
tiktok shop fidget toy victim, bro has a pop it phone case
constantly getting caught for being on his phone in class
hes the type of guy whos phone will randomly start blasting music bc he forgot to mute it
dont ask him if he has a pencil
megumi fushiguro
mansplains
actually so sassy at first, like if you talk to him and he had no prior intention on reaching out to you he doesn't wanna talk to you
type of guy to do all the work on the group project in one night because he doesnt trust you
brings local business iced coffee to school every day in first period
has a car and only gives people rides in return for favors
probably in like theater but works behind stage
takes really good notes, ppl ask to take pictures to study
like the entire school knows him but he ONLY knows his friend circle dont ask him abt anyone else
probably randomly gets philosophical during the conversation
makes tiktoks where he just stares into the camera and ruffles his hair a few times with a lana del rey song in the background (half his comments are lana stans calling him a poser or something)
tries to put girls onto his niche music taste and its just like birds dont sing by tv girl
nobara kugisaki
buys into every microtrend ever but is always trendy
always drinking those bottled starbucks frappes you can get in vending machines
everyone thinks she might be gay
makes tiktoks in school of her and her friends dancing and stuff and you are DEF in the background like passed out or picking your nose lol
talks over the teacher despite them shushing her and her friends multiple times then is shocked when she gets kicked out of class
she is the ultimate girls girl, shes so nice to girls despite looking mean but she will jump a man so quick if he steps out of line
probably like on the track team
goes to the mall sometimes during lunch instead of eating
has skipped in the bathroom and had to hide with her legs on the toilet before
satoru gojo (as a teacher)
extremely unprofessional
sometimes when he doesnt feel like teaching he puts on like wall-e and just has a movie day
literally all in everyones business, students come to him with their problems before they tell the school counselor
like he has some of his students numbers and they gen vent to him and are like friends with him
NEVER teaches, he just posts power points online and gives test every few weeks
orders kfc for lunch
maki zenin
everyone thinks she and nobara are girlfriends
takes all her notes on her ipad
she does NOT play about school field day
always brings medicine, feminine products, deoderant, anything you might need maki has it
kind of the mom friend
probably in like cross country
has the fattest hydroflask water bottle and is constantly getting up to refill it
very organized school supplies
has college stickers on all her stuff
gen takes school seriously
sometimes goes out to eat with the others but often spends lunch alone in the library reading or studying while she eats
brings a tote bag instead of a bookbag
inumaki toge
also always has medicine
will text you at 2am on a school night asking u to get on duos
his mom packs his lunch for him and the group picks on him for it
he is the funny friend nobody is checking up on
for some reason he speaks fluent spanish (he is not hispanic in case you didnt know)
texting during class but never gets caught
also skips class sometimes but actually goes off campus with people instead of the bathroom
sometimes makes brainrot comments
will ask to copy your homework but will let you copy his next time as a thanks
has the worst handwriting ever almost unreadable, ts has teachers breaking down the syllables and stuff trying to decode his essay
also vents in his english essays
kento nanami (as a teacher)
openly talks shit about the principals and higher up staff to his students literally any chance he gets
constantly breaking school rules he does not gaf if he gets fired
leaves the class alone sometimes to go talk to other teachers
all the girls lowkey have a crush on him (he has no idea)
has a seating chart but for like 3 students, so if youre unproblematic he keeps you with his friends
probably has a class pet, like a hamster even though he isnt allowed to, he dont gaf
still gives all his assignments on paper
leaves a gold star sticker if you score a 90+
always messing with higher up staff any chance he gets
#jjk#jjk headcanon#jjk imagine#jjk imagines#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen headcannon#jjk smau#megumi fushiguro#megumi#jujutsu kaisen imagine#gojo#satoru gojo#gojo imagine#inumaki headcanons#inumaki#inumaki x reader#itadori#yuji itadori x reader#itadori yuuji#nobara kugisaki#nobara#jjk nobara#maki zenin#maki#maki x reader#nanami#nanami x reader#kento nanami#jjk nanami#nananmi kento
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Quarterfinals, Match 2
expand to see all propaganda received! (wall of text warning oh my god this is a severe cautionary message)
Lauryn Hill:
"she paved the way and was hot as fuck the whole time"
"Girl c'mon. Look at her. You're gonna try and tell me that isn't the most beautiful and attractive person alive? Okay. You're lying but okay."
"if u freaks don't give ms. lauryn hill the respect she deserves..."
"actually one of the prettiest women ever I'm such a lesbian for her. like irl I'm already a lesbian but she is helping"
Damon Albarn:
"Donât think Damon should be here? Why donât you get your head checked by a jumbo jet? Maybe youâll feel heavy metal and calm down."
"If Damon is in the âsome guyâ category, heâs the heavenly and heartbreaking version. Damon is the sort of significant stranger Iâd see on the train out of Colchester but could never speak to, just a face seen in passing yet too radiant to be real. Iâd fall in love for an hour and carry the ache for a month."
"Damon sets the standard for me. I think heâs the most fascinating man alive. What I find attractive in Damon is not just his gorgeous bone structure and boyish charm, but how wholly heâs committed himself to music. Damon is an artist who walked the walk: in one of his roughest years with some of his rawest songwriting, he said he was no longer excited by anything except the creative process. He was disillusioned with the celebrity of it all, with his relationships suffering for it, and only wanted to make art: nothing more, nothing less. He would go on to compose film scores, write operas and stage musicals, produce other artistsâ records, form collectives to fulfill his passion for world music, and create some of the most globally successful music of his career in a completely innovative format that placed him as the phantom behind the characters. Whenever one band takes a break, he makes a solo record or puts together a supergroup to stay busy. Heâs uniquely collaborative and still writes personal letters inviting artists to record with him, and yet can function as a one-man show, acting as a multi-instrumentalist, a singer-songwriter and a producer. Heâs been a constant voice of bringing British music to the world *and* bringing world music into Britain. Sure, heâs won Brit Awards and a Grammy among others, but he also has a Guinness World Record and was named an Officer of the British Empire for his services to music; his long work with Africa Express earned him respect even from peers whoâd previously dismissed him, and his commitment to support his Malian collaborators in the face of violence earned him the title of Local King in Mali. There is so much talent in the world, but there is truly no one else with a career that looks like Damon Albarnâs. Damon is far more than just a prettyboy to look nice on a magazine cover, but looks are the ultimate point of this tournament, so make no mistake: he was terribly, terribly pretty. You watch him performing in the 90s, you sift through photoshoots and interviews and documentaries, and it feels *cruel* how beautiful he was. If his talent was god-given, so was his face. To put a bow on this thesis: I donât know if Gorillaz and Damonâs musical universe would be the experimental, globe-trotting, boundary-pushing community affair it is if Blur hadnât become such a central figure in Britpop and if Damon had not been made such a media spectacle, and I donât know if Damon would have been that spectacle if he wasnât so ungodly pretty. The domino effect is that Damonâs cherubic face launched a thousand multimedia art school projects for decades to come."
"I wish I was basically any bloke in the 90s so I could tongue Damon Albarn down. Damon will see a man and ask âis anyone gonna kiss that?â and not wait for a response."
"I have a pillow with his face on it. I sleep with it every night đ"
"âIâm more homosexual than Brett Anderson, always have been. As far as bisexuality goes, Iâve had a taste of that particular fruit, or have been tasted you might sayâŠâ is just the rawest most Shakespearean statement ever"
"he is the ultimate Pretty Boy âą. his glorious golden locks, his electric blue eyes. he is if Princess Diana was a Britpop Dude. he is the Regina George of Britpop. he is if Aphrodite took male form. Zeus would come down to earth to fuck him if he knew. he is a caffeinated orange cat let loose. he is deranged. he is unhinged. you never know what will come out of his mouth. he had sexual tension with every single man who knew him. he pulled justine fucking frischmann. his aura knows no bounds. he is a siren. he is a weird guy. but being so gorgeous stunning ethereal didn't stop him from also being one of the most prolific songwriters of his generation"
"THE MAIN BLUR"
"literally where do i even begin. i could write entire essays on this man. a good place to start would be the beetlebum music video, i suppose. i'll never forget the first time i watched that music video. something in me changed, my brain chemistry was altered, my life was never the same, i view the world a lot differently now. and a lot of the viewing i'm doing is of pictures of damon albarn's face because of boy do i have a lot of those saved. every time i try to look for a photo of something on my phone i can't find it because there's so much damon. okay that's maybe an exaggeration but this man has the most unfathomable beauty ever. his eyes? HIS EYES. god dammit i love his eyes i want to stare at them until the end of time like nothing else exists. i'm so normal about this man (lying) and while i'm usually very shameless about my interests i'm actually incredibly glad this propaganda is anonymous because otherwise. yeah. but the world deserves to see damon albarn's beauty and also hear his fantastic voice because what the fuck. his voice is literally the most gorgeous sound ever produced like bro sounds like that and expects me not to fall in love? i want this man to sing his silly songs and talk absolute nonsense to me until the sun eventually blows out and the world ends. cmon damon girlies let's demolish this tournament i know there are a lot of you."
"Heâs beautiful. Heâs a little rat. Heâs a sweetheart. Heâs a dickhead. Heâs a musical genius. Heâs a dumb bitch. Heâs a jock. Heâs a weirdo. Heâs real. Heâs an illusion. Heâs everything. Heâs just Damon."
"DAMON DAMON DAMON where do I begin oh jeez I've hyperfixated on this man for a solid 4 years and still going strong. Damon makes me wish that British people are real. That says A LOT. This man created a whole ass ANIMATED BAND WITH A SHIT TON OF LORE as a SIDE HUSTLE??? Not to mention, what other man has collaborated with Stevie Nicks, MF DOOM, Del the Funky Homosapien, Snoop Dogg, AND Beck?! People, we're literally in the presence of a god. And he's STILL GOING. Anyways, TL;DR, damon is so so so neat and cool and he should definitely win this competition. Thank you."
"Okay 90s Damon is The Perfect Boy yes yes, but the people who parrot the Daily Mail and say "he's ugly now" will never understand. I would still suck every drop from him on his deathbed."
"Vote for whoever you want to. But Damon is so pretty."
"i did not spend hours admiring this beautiful man's face on pinterest just to see him lose."
"Damon Albarn just brings me joy. When I'm watching him perform, following along as the camera lingers on and adores his pretty face, I get butterflies like I'm 15 again. It's nice to still feel that totally unguarded giddiness sometimes."
"God let the intrusive thoughts win making Damon. What if he's a beautiful blond twink with eyes like saucers and dick to his knees, he reads Herman Hesse and plays footie and is insufferable about both, he'll be the most prolific musician of his generation and write operas and seminal albums in 5 different genres and also he's gonna be the dumbest bitch alive? He'll also be kinda bi, but only kinda. And send."
"when i found out about his existence, my life was changed forever. i wish i could use him like the hannah montana boot milk pillow and chuck him at the wall so he makes a loud thud"
"Think of the drama and anon fights it'll cause if Damon wins it all! And think of how quiet it'll get after Damon's out. You'll miss him when he's gone, like memories of a noisy house years after it's grown silent. Choose Damon, and keep the messy train chugging."
"Even the Gallagher brothers have the hots for him."
"Kiss kiss I love him also you can't vote for any of the Seattle men they're literally copy and paste it's not fair. We need Brit representation"
"I want to take care of him, I want to provide for him. I need to gauge his baby blue puppy dog orbs out to I can clean them with wood varnish, paint shades of Pantone 320 C in his eyes, spray eau de parfume by dior in them and sew it back into his eyes like that scene in Toy Story 2."
"Seeing as simply filling the page with âDamonâ written 10000000 times isnât going to cut it đ
may I admit/submit: I DO have him tattooed on my being (no descriptive, is this anon?); heâs inspired somewhat unhinged late night/early morning fandom conversations in which Iâve served as âparishâ priest hearing confessions from all manner of folk about what theyâd like to do to him/receive from him; sadly I lost an essay where I detailed why the letters that make up his name suit him so well, and described him as the hot caramel sauce to Grahamâs cool vanilla ice cream. Heâs a faerie princess with a nose that makes people weep and a voice that feels like the warmest home and he gives amazing hugs. He loves trains and chickens and his tuxedo cat. Heâs annoying and sweet and somewhat unhinged and his music saves people and all this is on top of that fantastic dick. Heâs a dream yet very real and weâre fucking blessed to be on earth at the same time as him, amen"
"Damon Albarn was a beautiful, beautiful boy. The world saw that, regardless of if every individual reading this has the same taste in men; it felt like a truth of the universe at the time. They don't make celebrities that angelic in face and erratic in personality anymore."
"I need to touch his eyebrows, nose and prostate just one time JUST ONE TIME COME ON"
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the skz house: ch 19 (18+)
a/n: thank you @bahablastplz for editing! i appreciate you đ©” and thank you, readers, or your patience.
[ read chapter 18 here ]
Chapter 19: Of Christmas & Chokers
Over the next few days, the comfortability between you and Chan deepens. Whether youâre in the room or out being tourists, you remain almost glued togetherâholding hands, sitting on his lap, hugging each other, kissing. Your conversations flow naturally and without tension. In an alternate universe, perhaps this would have been an ideal trip for a couple in love. As delusional as you may have become in believing this could be a new normal, you keep one foot grounded in reality. Well, maybe not the whole footâŠbut at least a pinky toe.
Your days are packed with several activities such as a nighttime ATV ride, seemingly in the middle of nowhere. You both have the time of your life letting loose. Speeding, swerving, screaming at the rush of it all. Youâve never seen Chan smile so much. He is different when heâs free of the responsibility of being Chapter PresidentâŠheâs carefree. You tell yourself regardless of how this ends, youâll be glad you at least got to see him like this.
You go to a local amusement park where Chan is determined to make you face your fear of rollercoasters. However, after the second ride leaves you nearly in tears, Chan puts that mission to rest.
You venture back out on the water on a jet ski. Chan lets you do most of the driving that day, but you soon realize itâs a set up. When youâre far out enough from the beach, his hands on your hips find their way between your legs. He kisses your neck and tells you to turn off the jet ski. He fucks you with his fingers until you come, whispering in your ear how hard his cock is and what he plans to do to you later.
One of the days while you and Chan are out, the hotel staff add holiday decorations around the room, including a small, 4ft tree in the corner near the balcony windows. It makes you squeal with glee upon seeing it. You assume itâs all the hotelâs doing. Lee Know wouldnât have done something so nice. Would Chan? He doesnât claim it, if he had put them up to it. It doesnât matter, though, it makes you happy to see and feel more of the holiday spirit.
When Christmas Eve comes around, thereâs a break in the itinerary since a lot of places are closed for the holiday. You wind up sleeping in quite late for your standards and when you finally open your eyes, Chan is wide awake in the bed next to you. Heâs sitting up, back against the pillows, laptop in front of him and headphones covering his ears. Heâs consumed by whatever heâs doing, but as soon as you turn to face him, his eyes shift from the screen to you.
âShe has risen,â he jokes, moving one headphone away from his ear.
âI needed that,â you reply, stretching beneath the blankets. âHow long have you been up?â
âA while,â he says with a shrug. âJust working on our chapter project.â
You smile inwardly. Typically, his response would have finished with âa whileâ, you would have had to dig and pry for any further information. He, for now at least, is freely providing you with further details.
âChapter project?â you ask. You recall hearing him discuss it months ago, but never knew what it was.
âJust something we have to put together to memorialize the year,â he tells you. He turns the laptop so you can see the screen. You recognize the sight of a music program with tracks and layers but have no further understanding of it.
âPutting your minor to use?â
âKind of. It doubles as my senior project for the minor, so thatâs a plus.â He starts moving things around on the screen, opening a folder aptly titled âChapter Projectâ. He clicks on a few files, opening them to show you as he speaks. âI want to incorporate songs Iâve worked on with different things from the other membersâHyunjinâs artwork for example.â
You know Chan is a good student. All of the members are, really, but you know some of them drag their feet and procrastinate until the last minute. Youâve caught Hyunjin, Changbin and Jeongin rushing to meet midnight deadlines more than once.
âCan I hear something?â
You sit up on the bed, back against the pillows like Chan. The blanket falls from your chest, exposing your breasts.
âOnly if you put those things away,â he says, looking pointedly at your breasts, then up to your eyes, then back down again.
âWhat things?â you ask innocently, leaning back against the headboard and pushing your chest out even more.
Seizing the opportunity, Chan leans over and captures your nipple in his mouth. You let out a surprised scream as he bites down around it. You push him away, swatting his arm. You promptly pull the blanket up to cover them before holding out your hand for his headphones.
He hands them over with a smile, and you put them on. He shuffles a few things around on the screen before a video starts. You assume the graphics are of Felixâs design as it feels like something youâd see in a video game. A song accompanies the images and youâre surprised to hear Chanâs voice over a jovial sounding beat, followed by Seungmin, then Changbin. You didnât know any of them could sing.
The video is only about a minute long but you feel dumbfounded when itâs over. You remove the headphones and pass them back to Chan.
âI like it,â you say with a smile. âItâsâŠsurprisingly good.â
âYou underestimating me?â he asks teasingly. Â Â
âMy mistake,â you say sarcastically, placing a hand over your heart. âIs that a cover?â
âNo, itâs an original song,â he tells you, turning the laptop back so itâs facing him. âJust waiting on Felix to finish rendering the rest of the graphics, then that one will be done.â
âYouâre doing more?â
âA few more. Itâll be a mini-album.â
âDo I get a copy?â
âHmmmâŠmaybe. If you ask nicely.â
âOh, never mind then,â you say nonchalantly.
Chan turns to look at you, biting his tongue between his teeth to keep from smiling as he nods.
âIâll remember that.â
You slide down against the pillows, then turn on your side so youâre still facing him.
âI had no idea you guys could sing,â you tell him.
âParticipating in choir was mandatory at our boarding school,â he shrugs. âWe can hold a note.â
Chan is full of so many surprises. Most of them pleasant, these days. You want to uncover all there is to know about him, but you know youâll never be given the time.
You cuddle up to him as he puts his headphones back on. You just lay there and watch him work, expertly navigating around the screen as he continues composing the song. You want to ask why heâs not majoring in music. You already know the answer to that, though. The choices for his future arenât exactly his to make. His parents decided he would major in business, and sadly thatâs all there is to it.
Your heart aches for himâyou can see the work he put in to make something creative, the passion he has for it. And he canât even pursue it.
Itâs now 11:00pm and you and Chan have just returned to the hotel room. After dinner you both wanted to get out of the room for a bit and ended up at one of the only places openâthe Magic City casino. The hours spent there are a bit of a blur. It was news to you that anyone playing at the tables or slot machines could get free drinks, so you both decided to indulge. Being so far from the hotel, though, Chan didnât let either of you get too drunk.
As soon as youâre back to the room, Chan excuses himself to make a phone call and disappears out onto the balcony. You change into your pajamasâa pair of thin, loose fitting shorts and matching topâand return to the living room. You turn on the TV, stopping on the first channel you see playing a Christmas themed movie to entertain you while you wait for him to return. From all the food and drinks, you start to doze off until the sound of the heavy balcony door opening stirs you.
âEverything okay?â you ask when he comes back in.
âMm,â is his reply, with a small nod of his head. âItâs Christmas day back home. Iâm gonna get changed.â
You can only nod as well. His tone sounds a bit sad so youâre not sure what to say. Maybe heâs missing spending the holiday with his little brother and sister. And that makes you sad. Itâs your fault heâs not with them.
Chan comes back into the living room clad in a plain black t-shirt and grey sweatpants. He sits down next to you and throws his arm around the back of the couch behind you.
All of your life you had never considered yourself to have a one-track mind but now? With Chan? Seeing him in those grey sweatpants puts one thing at the forefront of your mind, drowsiness and sadness pushed aside. Youâve got to get a hold of yourself.
âShould I open the bottle of wine the hotel left?â you suggest.
âSure,â is his simple reply.
You stand and retrieve the bottle from the kitchen, along with two wine glasses. You pop the cork and fill both glasses before returning to Chan, handing him one.
âYou sure everythingâs alright? You seem a bit downâŠâ
You donât want the tension in the air to linger through the night and this trip has built your courage to address him this way.
âIâll be fine,â he tells you with a soft smile. He clinks his glass against yours before downing his in one go. âYou trying to stay up âtil midnight for your present?â
You take a sip from your wine glass; happy heâs taking the initiative to change the subject to something lighter.
âI donât see any presents under that tree,â you say, looking in the corner where the small tree is lit up.
âI havenât put them there yet.â
âThem?â
As in multiple.
He nods.
âOh no,â you say, a look of panic taking over your features.
You werenât sure the two of you would even be exchanging gifts. Not only that, but you donât feel like you truly know enough about him to get a well thought out present. And you love giving gifts. Hyunjin has a never-ending need for art supplies, so you immediately knew what to get him. You were completely puzzled when it came to Chan.
It was only after the staff added the tree that you thought itâd be nice for him to wake up with something under the tree. Being on vacation, though, you were in a bit of a predicament. All you really had convenient access to was the gift shop.
He must sense your apprehension.
âItâs okay if you didnât get me anything,â he tries to appease you.
When the panicked look on your face turns into a frown, he takes the wine glass from your hand and places it next to his on the side table. He then pulls you into his lap so youâre straddling him and cups your face with both hands, stroking your cheeks with the pads of his thumbs.
âItâs fine,â he says in a sharper tone that makes you nod in acceptance.
âI would have never imagined Iâd be spending Christmas Eve with you, let alone exchanging gifts,â you tell him, leaning your forehead against his. âFrom English classmates to this? Never in my wildest dreams.â
âThat wasnât our first class together,â he says matter-of-factly. He leans back against the couch and takes both of your hands in his, lacing his fingers through.
You furrow your brow at his statement. You wrack your brain for any other class you may have had with him but canât come up with any.
âWhat? When?â
âFreshman yearâŠAnthropology 101. In the lecture hall.â
You think back to freshman year and the classes you took. You did, in fact, take an Anthropology course. In a large lecture hall with something close to 100 other students, including your ex.
âI always sat in the backâyou were always somewhere up front. Being a nerd, I guess,â he teases. You try to pull your intertwined hands from his to hit him, but he holds onto them tighter, bringing them to his chest. âYou look cute when youâre focused, you know that?â
Your brain feels like mush. None of this is ringing a bell.
âDo you remember the presentation you did for extra credit? A family heirloom?â
Now that, you do remember.
âYou were so nervous, but I swear it made you look even cuter. The way you talked about the heirloomâŠâ he continues. ââŠyour grandmotherâs bracelet, I think it wasâŠâ
âYes,â you say softly.
The bracelet your grandmother gave your mother, who then passed it on to you, and one day youâll give it to your own child. It feels odd to hear Chan speak about it. Something so deeply personal to you. Granted, you did tell an entire class of strangers about it. But the fact that he remembers it, remembers you?
The fact that heâs known of you this long? Why hadnât he mentioned it before?
âWhy donât I remember you being in that class?â you ask, struggling to process this new shared history and the words heâs just spilled about you simultaneously.
âIt was freshman yearâŠplenty of stuff going on andâŠyour ex,â he shrugs.
He hits the nail on the head with that comment. That class is where you met him.
âYou know, the first few weeks of the SKZ house before we bring anyone in?â Chan asks rhetorically, âI thought maybe Iâd work up the nerve to talk to you while I couldâŠbut then he was there. Always sitting next to you. Even with the class we had this semester. I thought again, maybe it was a sign, you know? But he was waiting for you outside the door after the first class ended.â
You feel a pang of sadness, hearing that. Maybe in a different timeline if he had come talk to you, things would be different. You imagine getting to know a bright-eyed freshman Chan, eager and optimistic to take on the world. Maybe he would have opted out of having an assignee if it were possible, maybe he really could have been yours.
âI remember one of the last lectures you came in with your eyes all puffy,â he continues, disrupting that dangerous train of thought, âlike youâd been crying. You didnât sit anywhere near him that day. I always wondered what happened.â
You open your mouth to speak but close it immediately. What can you say to that? To any of this? Had he really paid such close attention to you? All this time?
âHe used to treat you like shit, you know.â
At that remark, you set your lips in a firm line. You untangle your hands from his and cross your arms in front of your chest. Itâs true, but hearing Chan say it hits too close to home.
âAnd you treated me any better?â
Chan takes in your closed off body language and a silence falls over you. Neither of you want this bubble youâre in to burst yet. Perhaps heâs regretting saying any of this at all.
âThe day you showed up at our houseâŠâ he speaks up again after a while, âI felt sick to my stomach, y/n. Like the universe was playing some sick fucking joke on me.â
He places his hands on your thighs, squeezing and rubbing them.
âWhen it came time to choose assignees, I couldnât let you end up with anyone else. Iâve never pulled rank like that before as the chapter president, but with you I had toâŠand I knew Hyunjin would be good for you, too.â
You shake your head in disbelief.
The day in the hot tub creeps back into your mind. When you told Chan that your time with Hyunjin had been great and he replied with âI know. Iâm gladâ. You didnât fully understand it then. Now, itâs as if Chan knew the emotional rollercoaster he was going to send you on and wanted to make sure you had a harness. Hyunjin.
You let out a low breath and place your hands on top of your head, locking your fingers together. This is a lot to take in.
âSo, your plan was to selfishly claim me and treat me like shit?â You ask after a moment.
âI wouldnât call it a plan,â he says in a sad tone. âI knew that I was attracted to you and after our first few nights together I had to do something to keep boundaries in place.â
The conversation you shared on the beach clarified his drive for the spankings and edging. You understand his reasonings. You know that his sexual desires and fantasies with you are kept separate from his emotional connection to you. However, itâs confusing and frustrating to know he clearly felt something for you prior to you joining the SKZ House and still kept that brick wall firmly in place between you. Â
âSo, you wanted to fuck me and still treat me like shit then?â You canât help the bitter edge to your tone.
âI didnât wanna get to closeâclearly Iâve failed,â he admits. âItâs just always been in the back of my mind how long Iâve wanted you and now that I get to have you, thereâs an expiration date.â
âWhat happens when we get back? You start treating me like that again?â
He averts his gaze from you.
âI donât know how toââ he stops abruptly and shakes his head.
âChan,â you say softly, reaching out to turn his head back to face you. âPlease.â
âI donât know how to be with you and be genuinely happy in this fucked up situation, y/n. Iâm not gonna want it to endâŠbut it has to.â
You sigh, resting your hands on his chest. As much as it hurts to admit, heâs right. You donât like the thought of having to leave either of them. With Hyunjin, though, you know he will move on with ease which makes losing him slightly easier. Chan, on the other hand, after all the ground youâve broken, the progress youâve madeâŠhaving to throw it all away will be hard. On both of you, youâre coming to realize.
But how else could you have gotten to know him? If you hadnât shown up at the SKZ house, Chan would have once again had another assignee and not been able to interact with you anyways. Perhaps you both should at least be thankful for the time youâve been given and enjoy it while you can.
âYou canât go back to being an asshole, Chan,â you tell him softly.
âI know.â
He grabs onto your hips and pulls you closer to him until youâre forced to lay against him. You rest your head on his shoulder as he wraps his arms around you, hugging you tightly. You stay like that for a while, the movie playing in the background but neither of you watching it. You want to remember this moment, how it feels to physically and mentally be this close to him.
An alarm suddenly goes off on his phone and Chan quickly silences it. He cups one hand around the back of your neck to guide your head up. His brown eyes bore into yours, still lingering in this shared moment. You hold his face in your hands, staring right back, not backing down. Itâs not an intense stareâŠmore like one of silent pleading and unspoken questions. You bring your face to his and place a chaste kiss on his lips.
âWait here,â he says, kissing you once more before sliding you off his lap.
He disappears into the bedroom and when he comes back, heads straight for the Christmas tree. He places two wrapped boxes under it and you mentally kick yourself again. You hadnât even wrapped his. Even so, you canât hide the smile that takes over your face at the sight and the thought he must have put into this.
âShould I get yours?â
âSo you did get me something?â he asks with a smirk.
âI didâŠbut seeing that,â you say, pointing to the neatly wrapped presents under the tree, âI donât even want to give it to you anymore.â
âItâs fine,â he says again. âIâll wait until tomorrow. Come pick one.â
You stand from the couch and walk over to him and the tree. Both boxes are square in shape, one larger than the other. You deliberate for a moment before reaching for the larger one. You sit on the floor and pull it towards you, surprised by its weight. You look up at Chan and when he doesnât move to join you, you pull on his hand until he sits.
âDid you wrap this yourself?â
âI asked the housekeeper to help me out with it,â he tells you.
âResourceful.â
He taps his temple with his pointer finger.
You start ripping away the wrapping paper to reveal a white box beneath. You canât hold back your smile as you pull the top part of the box off. You set it aside and pull out the tissue paper. When your eyes land on whatâs inside, your mouth drops.
A folded, white lab coat with your last name embroidered across the breast area sits on top. You reach out and run a finger across the stitching. It feels surreal to see.
âI figured youâd need it when you go off to vet school.â
You look up at him, still smiling. You will definitely need it. Along with several other items you were already wondering how you would afford, without having to ask your parents for even more money. Thatâs part of the reason you ultimately decided to join the SKZ house and save the money they were sending you. At least the majority of it would go towards the next steps in your education.
âThank you, Chan.â
Itâs a thoughtful gift. And you feel the guilt of your shitty gift building.
âThereâs moreâŠâ he nods towards the box.
And the guilt continues.
You lift the lab coat out of the box and gently set it outside the box. The next item is a set of black scrubs, your name embroidered on the shirt as well. You left them out of the box and sit them on top of the lab coat. When your eyes land on the item at the bottom of the box, your jaw drops again.
You reach inside the box and retrieve the stethoscope. This was one of the pricier items you hadnât been looking forward to purchasing. You bring it closer to inspect, smiling widely. You immediately recognize it as one of the more expensive brands. It, too, is engraved with your name around it.
You feel your eyes begin to prickle and you blink furiously, not wanting to cry, but you canât help it. Itâs a thoughtful gift. One that youâll get to take with you when the year is over. A reminder of Chan you get to keep with you forever.
You slowly raise your eyes to look at him, shaking your head softly.
âYou donât like it?â he asks, âIs it not the right kind? I wasnât really sureâŠâ
âIt isâit is,â you say, your voice cracking. You wipe your eyes with the back of your hand and clear your throat. âItâs perfect. Itâs all perfect, Chan. Thank you.â
âWanna test it out?â
Your smile returns at that and you nod, placing the ear tubes in your ears and sliding closer to him. He pulls you onto his lap once again, putting your legs on either side of him, your butt resting on his folded legs.
You grab the bell end of the stethoscope with one hand and pull at the hem of his t-shirt with the other, lifting it up. You then place the diaphragm end to his chest and he instantly moves back, grabbing your wrist.
âThatâs cold doc,â he says, voice muffled and rumbling through the ear piece.
âSorry, Iâm a rookie,â you reply sheepishly.
You bring the diaphragm end to your mouth and breathe on it to warm it up before placing it back over his heart. The digital reader immediately lights up, reading his heart rate. But youâre not focused on it. Youâre looking directly into his eyes, listening to the strong, steady beat of his heart. Itâs the most beautiful sound youâve ever heard.
âSounding healthy?â he asks.
You nod.
âWell, we should make sure the reading is accurate, too.â
He cups the back of your neck and pulls your face closer, bringing your lips to his. With his other hand, he holds your wrist and the stethoscope in place. You can hear his heartbeat quicken as you kiss. You grind your hips against his, causing the steady thumping in your ear to beat faster. You want to get lost in the sound of his bodyâs reaction to you.
He uses his hand on your back to assist your grinding, making sure you can also feel his bodyâs reaction to you. Â
Not wanting to jeopardize the safety of your present, you break the kiss and pull the ear tubes out. His hand drops from your wrist allowing you to turn and set the stethoscope neatly on top of the pile of the other presents behind you.
Before you can even turn back around, Chan is changing your position. He holds onto your back tightly as he lowers you down to the floor.
âI wonât write a negative review just yetâbut youâve got some learning to do, doc.â
You like to hear him call you that.
âIâm a fast learner,â you reply.
âOh, I know,â he says with a wink.
He remains sitting in front of you, his legs still crossed, while youâre lying down. Your legs are draped over his thighs, feet on the ground on either side of him. He pushes your shirt up to expose your stomach and lightly runs his fingers in a zig-zag pattern all the way down until his hand is between your legs. The thin, pajama shorts youâre wearing are a loose fit and donât do much to keep him out. Not that youâd want that.
He easily moves the fabric aside and his eyes snap to yours when he realizes you arenât wearing any underwear.
âI only packed so many for the trip,â you laugh and shrug. âI canât keep messing them up with you.â
He smirks and nods his agreement.
He slides his fingers up and down your slit, teasing your pussy until his fingers become saturated with your slick. He slowly inserts his ring and middle finger inside of you as he places his other palm on your lower stomach. You rock your hips against him in response. He curls his fingers, pressing against your inner walls each time he withdraws his hand, all the while applying steady pressure with his palm.
You can really feel his fingers rubbing against you, and you know he can too. His eyes are on his fingers pumping in and out of your pussy, then move up to your writhing body, then your face. A soft smile plays out on his lips as he watches your reaction. He adds his thumb on your clit into the mix and you let out a moan.
âTell me what you want,â he coaxes.
You bite your lip between your teeth, arching your back. Youâre too caught up in the sensations to formulate a response.
âYou wanna come on my fingers?â he asks, slowing them down. âOr on my cock?â
You moan again.
âBoth.â
âGreedy,â he says with a soft chuckle, still moving his fingers in and out at an achingly slow pace.
âMmmm, yes. For you.â
Any part of him you can have.
He moves his fingers quicker, thumb still circling your clit. You sit up a little, placing your hands behind you to hold you up as you move your hips against his fingers.
He arches an eyebrow at this, a devilish smirk on his lips. He withdraws his fingers, and you protest with a whine and pout. He brings his fingers, coated in your slick, to your face and spreads it around your pouted lips. He watches closely as you lick your lips, then brings his hand to his mouth, sucking off the rest for himself.
The sight of him enjoying your taste always sends you off the rails. You grab a handful of his shirt and pull him to you until his lips are on yours. He seems a little startled, but he allows it. You kiss him, taste him, taste you.
Before you can have too much, he breaks the kiss but keeps his face against yours.
âI want you to open your other present now,â he says, lips brushing against yours as he speaks.
âNot in the morning?â you ask, catching your breath.
âNo,â he says with a shake of his head. âI wanna see it on you now.â
He stretches to the side to retrieve the present and you wrap your arms around his waist to keep from falling back. He grabs it and returns to his upright position before handing it to you.
You take the present and rip the wrapping paper, much less delicately than you did the first. What could this be? He wants to see it on you? Youâre excited to find out. You toss all bits of the paper behind you without a care until just the box is left. You lift the lid from the box and inside is what appears to beâŠa collar?
You look up to Chan with an arched brow and he just smiles widely, baring all his pearly white teeth. The part of the collar that rests on the back of the neck is black, with a belt buckle-like fastener. On the front is a thick, silver linked chain (much like the one he wears on his wrist) with a silver heart hanging from it. The heart itself has several tiny jewels spread evenly around it. The way they glitter in the light, you hope its cubic zirconiaâŠbut knowing how deep Chanâs pockets go, they might just be diamonds. You bring the heart closer for inspection and see the words 'Good Girl' engraved on it.
Youâre not sure what to make of it. Both the cost, the phrase and the gift itself. He wants you to wear this? Like a dog?
He takes it out of the box and drapes it around your neck, moving your hair out of the way so he can fasten it in the back. You look up at him as he hooks a finger through the heart and tugs on it. Pulling, pulling, restricting until itâs taught against your throat.
Oh. Oh. Â
âThis okay?â he asks.
You appreciate that heâs asking. Youâre convinced youâd let him walk you through the street with it, so long as he asks first.
You close the distance between you, placing your lips on his to convey your consent. He tugs a little tighter on the collar as you kiss before releasing it fully.
In the next moment, your hands are on his shoulders, pushing on them until his back is now against the floor. He doesnât resist at all.
You reposition yourself comfortably on top of him. You put your hands on his biceps, squeezing them tightly before sliding up his arms to his hands. You move them up above his head then lace your fingers between his, holding them in place as you kiss him. You grind your hips into his and he lets out a moan. You feel his hardening cock pressed between your legs. You grind against it more, sliding your clit along his length. Your kisses become quicker, sloppier, as you keep grinding on him.
He tries to move his hands, but you squeeze them tighter. He lets out a grunt and uses more force to break freeâreminding you that he was allowing you to keep them there. He sits up and wraps one arm around you, pulling you close as he starts to stand up. You wrap your arms around his neck, legs around his waist. He walks you both back over to the couch.
He unhooks your legs and lowers you so youâre standing in front of him. He leans down and claims your lips again, but you want him undressed. You reach for the hem of his shirt and start pulling it up. You break the kiss to get it completely off his head and before he can kiss you again, you push him onto the couch.
You lift your shirt above your head and as youâre reaching back to unhook your bra, you give a pointed look to his sweatpants. He lifts his hips from the couch and pushes them down.
âDoes it look good?â you ask, running your fingers along the collar as you kneel in front of him.
He licks his lips in anticipation, âBetter than I imagined.â
You reach for his hand and bring it to the collar. He tugs on the heart again, tightening it around your neck. He wraps his other hand around the base of his cock and pulls you towards it. You drop your jaw and take him in your mouth.
He sucks in a breath, watching you lower your mouth on him. He releases the collar and leans back into the couch. You replace your hand with his at the base, stroking his dick as you bob your head up and down.
You alternate between stroking, sucking, taking it out and smacking it against your lips. He moans and groans, body jerking in response to your actions. You love seeing him like this.
You take him out of you mouth fully and continue stroking him, moving your mouth instead to take each of his balls in your mouth, in turn. You glance up to his eyes rolling into the back of his head as he lets out a deep breath.
âSo,â you say, returning your attention to his cock, licking slowly around the tip. âYou wanna come in my mouth or in my pussy?â
He looks down at you, only able to smile and shake his head at your use of his same words against him. He leans forward and grabs the heart of the collar once more, using it to pull you to him.
âYou think youâre funny, donât you?â he asks, kissing along your lips.
You giggle and nod playfully in response.
He leans back, pulling on the collar to bring you with him until youâre forced to stand again. His other hand slips between your legs and he rubs your pussy with his fingers.
âI wanna fill you up here.â
You moan against his lips, and he releases the collar. He lightly pushes against your chest, so you stand fully then motions to your shorts. You turn around, bend over and pull them down. You move to straighten yourself, but he lurches forward to stop you.
He puts a hand on your back to keep you bent over. In the next instant you feel his other hand collide with your ass and you let out a surprised yelp. He rubs the wounded area on the right and brings his mouth to the left cheek, placing a wet kiss to it. You feel his teeth dig into your skin, causing you to gasp. He smacks the right cheek again.
He shifts his mouth to the surely reddening cheek, placing another wet kiss there. It soothes the stinging a bit. He slaps the left check, his palm gripping your ass when it lands. He then immediately slides his fingers between your legs, slipping along your wet slit until they find your opening. He pushes his fingers inside, you donât even know how many, but it makes you feel full.
âMmmm,â you moan, pushing back against him.
âYouâre dripping for me,â he says, lacing kisses along each cheek.
âAlways,â you reply. And itâs the truth.
He takes his fingers out of you and places both hands on your waist, guiding you down to him. He positions himself at your opening and you roll your head back as he slowly lowers you on his cock. You remain still when heâs fully inserted, just basking in the feel of him inside you.
You make small movements with your hips first, moving forwards and backwards.
âFuck,â he exhales, gripping your hips tighter.
You like the way he sounds when youâre pleasing him.
You plant your feet firmly on the ground, your hands on his knees. You start to move up and down, bouncing on him and drawing more delicious groans from him.
He uses his hands on your waist to lift you higher and bring you down even harder. You cup your breasts, pinching your nipples to add to the pleasure youâre feeling. You donât know if youâll ever get tired of his cock filling you up. Though, you wonât exactly have the opportunity to find out.
You try to push the thought aside, but you can feel it distracting you.
Chan notices as your rhythm becomes out of sync with his. He pulls you all the way down against him, then slides his hand up your stomach, between your breasts, all the way to your neck. He covers the collar with his hand and pulls you back against his chest. You keep circling your hips on him, not wanting to lose the momentum.
âYou okay?â he asks softly in your ear.
âYeah,â you reply, but itâs a lie. âI want to see you.â
He repositions both of you so youâre lying fully on the couch and heâs on top of you. He guides one of your knees up and hooks your leg over his shoulder as he enters you again.
âLike this?â
You offer a silent nod, sliding your hands up his bare, chiseled chest, locking your fingers together behind his neck.
He starts moving again and you feel him sliding in and out, and you find yourself unable to tear your gaze from his face. His eyes are locked on you too. This feels heavy, but neither of you comment on it. He turns his head to the side to place a kiss to the leg thatâs slung over his shoulder, eyes never leaving yours.
Your hands leave his neck to roam through his hair, over his face, touching every part of him you can to commit to memory. You shift your mental focus to the way he feels, beneath your fingertips, his cock inside of you.
You want the Chan youâve had for the past week for the rest of the time you have him. Open. Earnest. You try to convey this with your eyes as he continues thrusting in and out. He grabs your breast, squeezing it tightly and you part your lips and arch your back in response.
You donât know if youâll survive if he goes back to treating you like you donât matter. You canât let him do that to you. Can you?
âI know, I know,â he says in response to your unspoken qualms. He kisses your leg once more before releasing it to lay his body flat against yours. He wraps his arms around your head in a hug of sorts, as he continues his deep and steady strokes.
Chan isnât fucking you tonight. Heâs making love to you.
You slide one hand down to where the two of you are joined, finding your clit. He lifts slightly, allowing you more room to rub circles around it.
âCome on my cock, baby,â he commands.
You whimper at his words. Baby.
You rub your clit faster as he picks up the pace of his thrusts, still driving into you as deep as he can. He angles himself so that with each thrust his dick digs against your walls. Itâs enough to drive you crazy. Youâre whining, moaning, panting.
âCome for me,â he says again. âCome for me baby girl.â
Your hand on his chest goes for his throat. You squeeze your fingers around it and see his eyes darken, but he doesnât stop you. He moves his hips faster, harder.
âChan,â you pant, âplease. Right there. Donât stop.â
And he doesnât.
He keeps the same pace, same angle, same motions until youâre arching your back and squeezing his neck, digging your nails into his delicate skin as you come around his cock. He grits his teeth, grunting and pounding into you furiously as he comes right after.
His movements slow as he finishes. You release his neck and wrap your arms around it instead. He lowers himself on top of you, all but smothering you with his weight but you donât care. This is a happy way to die, if it comes to that.
You kiss along his collar bone as you both catch your breath. His cock keeps twitching inside of you and you clench the walls of your pussy around him each time it does. His body jerks each time you do it.
âStop, stop,â he pleads, chuckling softly.
You chuckle in response.
That was different. In ways you hadnât imagined possible with Chan. The two of you stay on the couch, wrapped up in each other for a while longer. Â
The following morning, youâre both woken up by a knock at the door. Chan, just as confused as you, climbs out of bed to answer it. You hear him talking to someone and he returns a few moments later.
âAnother Minho surprise,â he tells you. âA couples massage.â
âThat actually sounds amazing,â you murmur, pushing off the blankets.
You both go to the bathroom and brush your teeth. You put your hair up in a messy bun then go to the living room while Chan lets in the masseuses. Thereâs one male and one female. After setting up their massage tables in the open space between the couch and the TV, they leave for the hallway allowing you both some privacy to remove your clothing.
Chan watches you undress with a sly smile on his face, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. You stick your tongue out at him and throw your pajama shirt at his face, but he dodges it and catches it in his hand. He folds it neatly and sets it on the couch before removing his own shirt.
When youâre both settled on the tables, they re-enter.
âYouâre with me, sir,â you hear Chan say and lift your head.
Heâs motioning for the male masseuse to come to him.
âI need firmer hands,â he adds.
But you know thatâs not it. No other man outside of the SKZ House is allowed to touch you in the way the masseuse will need to. You know itâs because of that. But it still makes you feel warm inside to think Chan personally doesnât want anyone else touching you.
After the massage, you and Chan shower together then order a late brunch. He opens his present that you are now extremely embarrassed to give him. When he pulls out the pair of neon blue swim trunks with âMiami Viceâ written on it, you hide your face, and he immediately laughs.
âThese are loud,â he says. âIâll wear them to the beach tomorrow.â
Next, he pulls out a refrigerator magnet with âMiamiâ written across it with palm trees surrounding it.
âTo be fair,â you say, wanting to explain, âI had no clue what to get you. Youâre not exactly an open book.â
âThat is fair,â he agrees. He looks at you with a soft smile, as if he wishes things had been different. He kisses your forehead. âThank you anyways.â
You spend your final two days mostly relaxing and staying close to the hotel. You spend time at the beach again, Chan in his neon blue swim trunks and looking fucking delectable in them.
Getting on the plane to go home, youâre hit with an overwhelming sense of sadness. Chanâs behavior hasnât changed yet, and youâre praying that it doesnât. That even though you both know how this has to end; he can find it within himself to not push you out again. You lean on him and hold his hand for most of the flight back.
Changbin picks you up from the airport and Chan rides up front while you sit in the back. He asks how the trip was and you both reply that it was good. He then addresses Chan in Korean and youâre left clueless in the back seat. But whatever is said, you can feel the weight of it from Chanâs reaction. He leans back in his seat, slouches, and runs his hand through his hair.
You try not to think much of it, but it must be important. They donât typically speak Korean in front of any of the assignees unless itâs about something that, to be frank, is none of their business.
The car ride is over far too soon, and they still havenât filled you in on whatâs happening.
Once in the driveway, you notice a black car parked in front of the house with a Rolls Royce emblem on the front. You immediately furrow your brow, curiosity and anxiety spiking through the roof at this point.
Changbin exits the car first. You remain planted in the backseat, waiting for Chan to say or explain anything.
He lets out a low breath and leans back against the headrest, eyes closed.
âMy dadâs here,â he announces.
Your eyes open wide, and even more confusion sets in. Is it an unexpected visit? Is he not happy to see his father?
âYou donât want him to be?â you ask slowly, carefully.
âWell, itâs never exactly a cause for celebration when any of our parents show up,â he says dryly. âJustâŠstay out of his way.â
Chan opens his door and you follow in suit.
Changbin has pulled the luggage from the trunk, heâs holding the handle to yours and Chan grabs his own. You move to walk past them both, but Chan grabs your arm to stop you.
You turn to face him, trying to read his expression but a mask is in place.
âChan,â you say, placing a hand to his chest.
A glint, a flicker of something crosses over his eyes and you see your Chan for a split second.
He kisses your forehead.
âAfter us. And then straight upstairs, okay?â he says softly.
You nod your head and wait for them to walk to the door first.
As soon as you enter the house, you can feel the commanding presence of his father. Your eyes are drawn straight to him on the living room couch, looking all business in a tailored black suit, black hair slicked back.
âAppa.â Chan says.
âHello,â you say politely with a small bow at the waist.
You know he told you to go straight upstairs, but it would feel rude to pass by without speaking to him.
His father spares half a glance at you before staring daggers at his son.
Changbin heads for the stairs with your suitcase and you follow him. You look back at Chan and offer as encouraging a smile as you can muster. Chan doesnât turn to look at you. He walks towards his father like a man heading to the gallows and the sight of him like that punctures your already fragile heart.
[ read chapter 20 here ]
a/n: oof. thoughts? feelings? a lot to unpack here. thank you all again for your patience! and sorry the tags still aren't working :(
#stray kids fanfic#skz fanfic#stray kids fanfiction#stray kids#bang chan#bangchan fanfic#skz smut#the skz house#bang chan imagines#bang chan smut#stray kids smut#bang chan x reader#bang chan x you#bang chan x y/n
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hi angel i saw u say you wanted more fluffy ellie requests and i thought about maybe something along the lines of the cute pics she has of you two in her phone idk itâs just something i thought of u donât have to write it if u donât want to i just love ur blog and everything u write đđđđđ«¶đ»đ«¶đ»đ«¶đ»
not about love âĄ
pre-dating slightly loser college!ellie đŠ incoming !! basically u go through ellies phone and find⊠something. part 1 of⊠maybe?
warnings: slightly mean ellie for a second, sexual tension, mentions of weed and alcohol.
part 2
Tic-Toc, the gentle sounds of the ancient clock in Ellieâs room filled the thick air. a gift from Joel. It was a warm, lazy afternoon. You almost fell asleep, almost. Her bed smelled like her, so did the ruffled, Nirvana t-shirt you were laying on. Everything in this room practically screamed Ellie. The scent, the sketches on the wall â of Dina, and Jesse, and you. Why did she have more sketches of you than anyone else? A dinosaur lego, a miniature solar system, obscure band posters, Oh! hereâs the pin you gifted her once!, two pairs of mismatched socks, a random rock (âItâs from like, the moonâ she said. It was from the local science museum.)
âElâ you whined, receiving a gentle hum in response.
âIâm boredâ you exclaimed with a heavy sigh. It's not as if she owed you any attention, she told you she had to study. For some reason, some odd reason nor you or her could put your finger on, you had to be there with her. âWellâ you excused. âItâs not like I have anything better to do, right?â A lie. What about your project due Monday? Nevermind.
âCatch thisâ she exclaimed, tossing a serene light blue stress ball directly at your face.
âOw!â you whined, yet again. If only you knew what those whines did to her.
âSorry bro, gotta finish this fucking question. She said, flexing her sore hand. âFuck this fucking Prof, seriouslyâ She mumbled, clearly annoyed, clearly frustrated. Ellie had this thing, well, if you could even call something that she only had specifically with you a âThingâ â where she had to call you by those stupid names. âDudeâ âBroâ âJeez man!â just to see you squirm. Youd flinch ever so slightly, a fleeting reaction that betrayed a hint of offense flickering in your eyes. Every time you couldnât help but pout, couldnât help but look a little bit hurt, it did something to her. It wasnât because she liked hurting you, God knows she didnât. It would give her a glimmer of hope, of light. Shed journal about it, too;
âI called her Bro again. She looked really sad. Why does she get sad? Iâm so fucking stupid. Itâs probably because no one else calls her fucking bro, Iâm literally delusional. Also had expired fucking Pizza. Worst day ever. Shit. Not that bad because she smiled at batted her eyelashes. God Ellie you need therapy.â YOURE A DUMBASS!!!!â
Half an hour had elapsed, brimming with Ellie muttering to herself under her breath. lighting a blunt, burning the blunt, passing it to you, begging you to give it back after 3 seconds.
You were pretty sure you had gone through every single app on your phone five times already. Stalking randoâs on Instagram, watching ASMR tiktoks, talking shit with Dina in the groupchat. How much more of this boredom could you take? My god, you were humming a stupid melody to yourself.
âGriiiind boy you know I grind when I pull-â
âShhâ
Did Ellie just shush you?!
âExcuse me?â You said.
âIâm trying to concentrate. Also what the fuck is a Fartulum?â Ellie retorted, withdrawing slightly and punctuating her frustration with stomps on the floor. God, she was too fucking cute.
âCan I play on your phone?â You questioned innocently. One more opening and closing the same App and youâd have lost your damn mind. You could practically see the Candy Crush candies popping inside of your brain every time you closed your eyes.
âNoâ she answered bluntly.
âWhy? you scared Iâll find your nudes? Not gonna look- Swear on my li-â
You could hear her eye rolling, somehow.
âI dont have fucking nudesâ she affirmed with a touch of exasperation.
âSomeone elseâs?â you said quietly. Your tone almost exposed you. Almost.
âPsh⊠noâ Ellie said in return, just as quiet. Her tone almost exposed her, too.
Wish I had yours. Shut it, Ellie.
âThen let me go on your phoneâ You whined, got off the bed and almost slipped on one of her belts that laid on the floor. So messy, so, so Ellie.
She cast a sidelong glance at you, her eyes darting from the corner of her vision. Her grip on the pen was incredibly tight. It happened every time you got near, got too close to her. Whether it was clutching the strings of her hoodie, her knuckles turning white with tension, or her toes curling in a clenched stance. Shed never ever admit it to herself, cool, calm & collected, but fuck did you make her nervous.
You settled yourself on the chair beside her, causing her to divert every ounce of her attention back to her assignment, shifting it solely onto you. You. You. You.
She gazed directly into your eyes, and a peculiar warmth flooded your face. Its funny how even after being friends for all this time, making eye contact with her managed to stir something within you. She asked you about it once, mid fight. âYou never even look at me when we talk!â she huffed. âYes I do!â no you dont. âNo you donât!â and when your lips quivered, turning you in, she left it at that.
Ellie scratched the back of her neck, her arms flexing subtly with the motion. You gave her that look, the look that made her cheeks go bright pink, her hands clam up. She bit her lip. âFineâ. You won, flashing her a toothy smile she couldnât help but grin at.
And there you were, with Ellieâs iPhone 5C (Yeah, she never got that buying a new iPhone every 2 years phenomenon) laying on Ellieâs bed, in Ellieâs room.
âEw - Ellie what the fuck? why is your screen greasy?!â You squirmed, fingertips grazing over her slightly sticky screen. Is that fucking chicken nuggets residue?
âShut up, dude. You asked me for my phone so deal with the consequencesâ
Dude.
You rolled your eyes, proceeded to wipe the screen of her phone with the corner of her cozy flannel bedsheet. Her phone was really warm. One more month and it would probably set on fire.
âPassword?â You questioned, and shifted to lay on your stomach, your cheek caressing the pillow. It had a little auburn colored hair laying on top of it.
Ellie huffed and waited a second before she responded, contemplating again. Itâs harmless, fuck it.
â2222â
âOkay, seriously - you could get hacked with that dumbass passwordâ
âPffftâ Ellie huffed. âIâd fucking beat them up if they tried robbing meâ she said, ever the brave.
âIâm not⊠talking about robbers, Ellie. Like, hackers?â
âSame thingâ
âYou cant beat up hackers theyâre- Nevermindâ you sighed.
2222.
If the room was classic Ellie, god, so was her phone. Default Apple background, because she truly couldnât be bothered. iMessage, Instagram with four pictures on her feed; One of her arm slightly flexing her tat (who the fuck was the bitch who commented âdamnâ under there?), one of a stray cat wearing her grey beanie, a meme that says âFuck sex. Letâs do something romantic like play Fireboy and Watergirl on CoolMathGames.Comâ (God, she thought she was so funny for that one. 6 Likes, one from you, one from Jesse, the fake Instagram account you and Dina created for Joel, her ex Cat, and one from Dina and a spam bot). Next to the Instagram laid the NASA app (of course), Call Of Duty for iPhone (Made her sleep for only fifteen minutes one night), calculator, 9GAG (People still use that?!), and⊠her gallery.
You pursed your lips, contemplating the situation. Should you?after all, Ellie said; No nudes. So what could possibly be on there?
Of course.
You couldn't contain a soft giggle that escaped your lips, earning an inquisitive whine from Ellie. "What's so funny?" she grumbled, unable to resist her curiosity.
âSaid you were studying, so studyâ You said, while scrolling through her gallery.
As you readjusted your position on the bed, you unintentionally swiped to the left, revealing her albums. Just harmless browsing, right?
âScreenshotsâ
âFunny memesâ
âPics to send Jesse when heâs being stupidâ
âDhhdjsjsouâ
âStink â€ïžâ
A picture of you, laying on the grass, a bright, toothy smile spread across your face. It was from your Instagram, the one you deleted because you thought you looked dumb. The one Ellie commented a for once unsarcastic âWoahâ on.
The album was locked.
You felt your throat go dry, heartbeat speeding up. Your leg started shaking, and God, you hoped she would come and snatch the phone off of your hand.
But she didnât. She just shifted in her sit, cleared her throat and resumed her studies.
You shouldnât have. But you did.
2222
Unlocked. Success!
You felt like screaming at the top of your lungs. Was it even hotter in here now? Extra humid today? you bit your lip, it almost hurt.
A picture of you and Dina. A selfie you sent to the groupchat two weeks ago. Ellie doodled a green heart on it. You were sweating. A picture of you on Christmas last year. That same day you had your stupid fight on. You were wearing a Santa hat, mug of hot Coco and tiny white marshmallows in your hand.
Your stomach felt as if it were infested by a swarm of Ellie looking butterflyâs.
A picture of you sound asleep, in Ellieâs bed. She was mid-moving a hair strand away from your face. It was blurry. You recognized that top.
You were wasted that day. Blabbering uncontrollably about how you had to crash on her bed, because you were scared your new roommate would think youâre stupid, and dumb, and an idiot, for getting drunk at a frat party.
You couldnât understand why Ellie didnât want to help you. You almost kicked her when she said she couldnât, that youâd be better off in your bed. âI snore. And I kick in my sleep - Seriouslyïżœïżœ You almost cried. You called her a bad friend, a fake one, because â isnât that what friends are for? Shouldnât they have your back when youâre a babbling mess? Hold your hair for you, put you to sleep, take care of you?
Ellie couldnât sleep that night.
When you laid there, right on her bed, her face went so red and hot you could fry something on it. She almost hit herself in the face when her chest grazed your back. When your leg caressed herâs, and ended up on top of her thigh, she almost screamed. When you shifted to face her, an angelic, sound asleep expression on your face, she swore she almost died. The string of your top came off, revealing more of your shoulder, and the strap of your bra, Ellie turned around so fast she almost woke you up.
She slept for 20 minutes.
When she woke up, she had to make herself remember it. Remember you, laying with her.
So she took a picture. An innocent one.
You almost jumped when the pen fell slipped from her hand and she turned around to face you.
âWhat are you doing?â
Whats in her notes app?
âĄ
part two
#ellie williams#ellie x reader#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams fanfiction#ellie williams x you#wlw#ellie williams fluff#ellie williams smut#lesbian
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Fuck Trump, hereâs all the civil rights orgs I know:
(Most have education pages and/or socials to follow and boost if u canât donate right now)
LGBTQ+
Trevor Projectâqueer crisis hotline/counseling (NOTE THAT THEY CALL POLICE IN CERTAIN SITUATIONS)
List of Crisis Hotlines/etc compiled by Inclusive Therapists .com which DONâT CALL POLICE
Point of Prideâhelps trans folks having trouble accessing gender affirming healthcare
Trans Lifelineâcommunity support/resources/financial aid for trans folks
REPRODUCTIVE RIGHTS
National Network of Abortion Fundsâfinancial assistance/transport/childcare for people in ban states seeking abortions.
Brigid Allianceâsame
Sister Songâreproductive justice for WOC
Indigenous Women Risingâhelps Indigenous families access abortions/menstrual hygiene/midwifery/etc
Afiya Centerâreproductive justice/HIV care for Black womxn in Texas
Abortion access orgs for Americans in the
Midwest
South
Appalachia (they also offer free emergency contraception/support services/etc)
RACIAL JUSTICE
NYU Law Center on Race Inequalityâself-education resources on racism & antiblackness/how to contact elected officials/how to protest safely.
List of orgs protecting Black Americans, compiled by NYU (incl NAACP, Audre Lorde Project, BLM, Black Voters Matter, etc)
National Immigration Law Centerâfighting for asylum seeking/DACA; helping immigrants access healthcare/workerâs rights/etc
American Civil Liberties Unionâworking on many intersectional initiatives
Southern Poverty Law Centerâsame
GLOBAL AID (While we Americans wait for shoes to start dropping, letâs not forget others in need, and that Trumpâs atrocious foreign policies will affect everyone!)
World Central Kitchenâhunger relief
Action Against Hungerâsame
War Childâsupports and educates children in conflict zones, like Yemen and DRC
Medecins Sans Frontieresâ medical aid
Islamic Relief USAâemergency aid
PALESTINIAN AID
Palestine Childrenâs Relief Fundâ medical aid for kids
Aneraâ emergency relief & long-term development resources for Palestine, Lebanon, Jordan
United Nations Relief and Works Agencyâaid for Palestinian refugees in Lebanon/Syria/West Bank/Gaza/Jordan
Palestine Red Crescent Societyâmedical aid
SUDANESE AID
List of humanitarian orgs working in Sudan, compiled by 500 Words Magazine
CONGOLESE AID
Panzi Foundationâsupports assault survivors & their families
Eastern Congo Initiativeâsupports ands funds local/community-based Congolese efforts
Please reblog, & add any legitimate humanitarian organizations you know of! I love all of you!!
#donations#resources#election 2024#lgbtq#reproductive rights#reproductive justice#racial justice#blacklivesmatter#trans pride#queer pride#all eyes on palestine#all eyes on sudan#all eyes on congo#free yemen#social justice#dm me//add in your own reblog any other relevant tags
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hi there! i absolutely loved ur other fan fic even tho i didnât know the character. made my pussy throb. anywho đ just seeing if u are able to write a gojo x reader, perhaps him being older ( older brothers bsf, teacher, etc. ) i also would love to see some discreet public sexy time. ( classroom, movie theatre, pool⊠i love fucking hot tubs and poolsâŠ) thank you so much!đâïžđ
Our little secret
Ans: thank you so much for the support, and of course! Iâm so excited to write my take on Gojo! Hope you like it!!
Summary: University au! You're working along side your thesis advisor Gojo in hopes to working closer to your ambitions for the future. But being a university student, costs are high and money is low. So to be able to keep up with your school you have a little gig on the side.
Content: MDNI, 18+, abaf reader, smut, forced proximity, dubcon, oral, penetrative sex, domination, degradation, praise, making out, rough sex, oral sex, penetrative sex, teacher/student relations, dominant Gojo, submissive reader
A/N: I apologize if not all of my historical information its 100% correct, I did do a little research for it to make as much sense as I could. I also apologize for any word vomited, grammar, or punctuation errors. I was up till 2am writing. but hope you enjoy!
You had been given the opportunity to have Satoru Gojo, head professor of the History department as your Thesis advisor. It was all still a little unreal to you, but you couldn't be more grateful. You have spent countless hours with one another, early mornings and late nights, doing your best to progress with your latest research proposal. âThe Villa of the Papyriâ you said, placing your stack of papers down onto Gojos desk. âNow that surely is a pretty big project your-â He began to reply before you quickly cut him off âI understand itâs a lot, and that most of the contents inside got destroyed but there are over two thousand lost scrolls that reside inside that structure. There could be so many answers about the lost city of Herculaneum that those scrolls could contain!â Your look was genuine. . and so full of hope that he just couldn't say no.Â
As weeks passed, you still had no leads. Weeks turned into, months, and months turned into a year, endlessly working alongside Gojo. Despite your research not flourishing as much as you had hoped, your relationship with your professor grew more than you expected. It didnât feel like work, it was tolerable to be around eachother, it didnât feel like he had some weird authority complex over you, you were comfortable, you couldnât help but admit to yourself some feeling for your professor began to form and you wished nothing would come in between that. .until something did.
Being a university student, especially in the department you're in, funds are high and since you were usually busy researching all day, you had a hard time getting a stable job that worked around your harsh schedule. The school did pay you money to go through with this research but it was barely enough to buy you a loaf of bread and toilet paper. You needed money to survive and things were getting a little tight, so you thought working at your local club didnât sound like a horrible idea. . as a dancer.Â
Zafrio, is one of the more popular clubs in the area, but they worked well around your schedule, Thursdays, Fridays, and Saturdays every week. The pay was beautiful, every penny you made on that stage was yours to keep, on top of that you also got your bi-weekly pay which 10% of it went through tip - out to the servers, but you werenât complaining. On average you made at least four hundred dollars a night, but on good days you would rack up closer to a thousand.Â
Tonight was your Saturday shift, the busier one out of the three. As you were getting ready backstage a familiar face walked into the club, the club was packed full of people, he made his way through the crowd, brushing past people shoulder to shoulder, getting closer to the main stage. Now he didnât come here often but when he did, it was every Saturday at eleven, to see you and only you perform. He used having a large crowd to his advantage as he was often hidden, so you seeing him was never a concern of his. How he found out about your little side job was not intentional, he just happened to stumble into the club with some of his friends one night, and there you were working. Gojo was beyond intrigued, so ever since that day heâd been coming to watch you perform, he didnât know why he came back, but all he knew was that he started thinking of you in ways heâd never dare think of before.Â
Your stage name gets called and there you are, walking out onto the stage over to the pole, beginning your number for the whole club. Cheers filled your ears, watching the money fall onto the stage, the serotonin that pumped through your body was unbelievable and he watched, every. Last. second. His eyes never leaving you or your body. The way your hips sway to the music, it was like he was in a trance.Â
As you finish your number your eyes fall out to the crowd, adjusting from the bright stage lights shining up at you. You start to strut off and out the corner of your eye, you see. . no it couldnât be. What was he doing here?? Your heart rate began to pick up. What was your professor doing here?! You quickly rushed the rest of the off stage. Did he just see you perform? Your mind was rushing at a million miles a second.Â
You arrived backstage and looked in the mirror, your mind began to spiral and your heart picked up its pace, that was totally him, there was no denying it. âIs everything alright?â one of your fellow dancers came over to see if you were okay as they noticed you were panicking. âYah. .yah i'm fineâ you said to put your clothes on and packed all your belongings. âSomething came up and I really need to go, please let the boss know Iâm sorry.â You knew all of the money you got from that dance would be taken care of by your boss, and were quick to leave, walking out to your car and heading home.Â
Monday finally rolled around and you were on your way to Gojos' office to start work. If it were any other day you would be eager to get back to work after a weekend break, but today wasnât any other day. The events of Saturday night still loomed in the back of your mind, you didnât want to admit it but you were scared to face Gojo, how were you supposed to just act normal after that night?!
You opened the door to the office and plastered a smile onto your face and there he was sitting at his desk. âGood morning professor.â you said, making your way into the room, closing the door behind you. âGood morning, how was your weekend?â he asked, his eyebrow slightly arching with the question. You felt a lump form in your throat forcing it down before speaking. âAh, it was quite relaxing,â you said trying to cut the conversation. âI'm surprised, you spend your weekends working do you not?â his head tilted ever so slightly, a smirk forming in the corner of his lips. He knew what he was doing and he knew you saw him that night.Â
You froze in place for just a moment, âi'm not sure I know what you meanâ Gojo looked at you right in your eyes, leaning forward so his elbows were resting on his knees. âI think you and I both know what I meanâ your breath hitched, there was no going back, there was no avoiding this. You watched as Gojo sat up from his chair and made his way around his desk. Leaning against this chair and resting his ass against it he crossed his arms in front of his chest. âWell. . am I wrong?â This was it, your career was over, there was no way you would be able to recover from something like this, you knew the risks and yet you still took the chance, now look where it got you.Â
You could feel yourself trying to choke but in the coming years, you were trying your best to keep yourself together. âNow you know there's no reason to lie to me. .â Gojo pushed himself off the desk and made his way towards you, your eyes never leaving him. He walked behind you, leaving your sight, but you could feel him looming over you. âProfessor look, moneys been low and.â his hot breath suddenly hit against your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. âYou donât have to explain yourself to me.â His words were soft.Â
Your shoulders tensed as he placed his hands on them âIs this okay? Can I touch you here?â Gojo let out softly once more, you simply nodded your head being speechless. His hands began travelling down stopping right at your hips. âYou know. .I have a confession of my own. Ever since I found out about your secret endeavours. . I havenât been able to stop going back. . I canât stop thinking about you in ways I shouldnât.â He choked out, Gojo was doing his absolute best to keep himself at bay.Â
âReally?â you said, sounding surprised, his words were making your stomach flutter. As much as you wanted to deny this as wrong and unprofessional there was a recurring curious thought that wanted to find out more, what exactly was he thinking. âThe thought drives me crazyâ the hold he had on your hips gets tighter, but you move away from his grip, turning around to face him. His eyes were drawing you in like never before, you couldnât describe it, but his gaze was full of pure lust.Â
You bit down on your lips, you were unsure what to do, act professional or. . no what were you thinking! âDarling,â Gojo said, snapping you out of your thoughts. His hands coming up and cupping your face, his thumb trailing softly against your cheek. âGojo I. .â You stood there speechless. âThis is unprofessional.â You try to centre your thoughts âI think weâre long past that.â he said his hand never leaving your cheek. His face leaned down his lips inches from yours âif you want me to stop then tell me, I want you to be okay with thisâ you looked up at him through your lashes nodding your head ever so slightly. âPlease. .donât stopâ you let out quietly just enough for him to hear you.Â
Next thing you know you felt Gojoâs lips press against yours, lips moulding with one another. His kiss was delicate, but carried so much passion and lust behind every movement. Your mind continued to spiral at every given minute, but you didnât want to stop, you wanted more. Gojoâs hands travelled down before taking your ass in his hands giving it a squeeze as he continued to kiss you.Â
His tongue slipped past your lips and moved with yours, but it didnât last long as he was quick to pull away to catch a breath. His head moved to your neck planting firm kisses against your neck as his hands made their way up your shirt, cupping your breast in the process massaging them as he continued to place his markings down your neck. âYouâre fucking gorgeousâ his voice was breathy, against your skin.
Gojo guided you over to his desk, turning you around to your back facing him. His hands lingered at the hem of your pants, thinking for a moment before he pulled both your pants and underwear down revealing your slick pussy. Gojo went down onto his knees to get a better view, his hand trailing up and down pushing in between your folds, slowly sticking his middle and ring finger deep into your pussy, causing a moan to escape your lips. âWhat if someone hears us?â you asked nervously. He continued to pump his fingers in and out of you slowly watching how your pussy swallowed his fingers âlet themâ he said.Â
The speed of his fingers began to pick up the pace causing soft moans to escape through the seam of your lips. Gojo pulled his fingers out of you, spreading your legs open enough to lodge his head in between your thighs, dragging his tongue against your pussy. As you lay there leaning over his desk, gasping for breath, Gojo tasted every inch of you, savouring the sweetness of your flesh, he knew exactly where to touch, how to caress, driving you further into the realm of ecstasy. Your hips would involuntarily push back into him as he lapped his tongue over your clit, exploring every curve and crevice, bringing you to the edge of climax. It was almost painful, the anticipation and desire building within you, but you wouldn't trade this exquisite torture for anything else.Â
As you were nearing release Gojo pulled away standing up, quickly unbuckling his pants to unveil his already hard twitching cock eager to pound into you. He held the base of his cock, dragging the tip in between your wet folds, before slowly pushing himself into you, causing a groan to escape from the back of his throat. His hands grabbing onto your hips, he began to slowly move his hips watching your pussy swallow his cock. âYou feel so fucking goodâ he said as he began to pick up the pace. Your hand moved up to your mouth blocking out the moans leaving your lips, doing your very best to stay quiet enough so others wouldnât hear your lewd sounds. Gojoâs thrusts became rough, his hand releasing your hip entangling his fingers through your hair tugging on it as he pounded into you. âYouâre such a good girl, taking me so wellâ.Â
As Gojo continued to thrust deep into you, you felt yourself coming closer to the edge once again, the knot building up in your stomach from him constantly hitting your G-spot. Your free hand moved down in between your legs and moved rapidly against your clit. â you gonna cum on my cock baby?â He asked you, smirking down at you, how he enjoyed the sight. You let out a moan as your legs do their best to hold themselves up through your orgasm, Gojo was close, you could feel his cock pulsating inside of you. His thrust was becoming sloppy and out of rhythm. With a few more thrusts he quickly pulled out of you, his hot cum hitting against your back âfuckâ he said out of breath looking down at the mess he made, but god it was fucking hot.
His body pressed up against your own, planting a soft kiss against your shoulder. Moving the hair away from your neck and planting them slowly against your neck as well, he let out a light groan, the vibration of his hot breath against your skin made you shiver. âLet's get you cleaned up babyâ Gojo said, going back to his cocky smug voice once again. âOh and. .lets keep this our little secret alright?â
@allicat0 signing off. .
#fanfiction#smut#gojo satoru#jjk#jjk x reader#jjk gojo#jjk fanfic#gojo x reader#satoru gojo x reader#Satoru gojo fic#gojo x reader smut#mdni#18+ mdni#jjk satoru
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Another underutilized aspect of N, Natural Harmonia Gropius himself, is that he's conceptualized as not just a Math Guy, but a Math Genius if we go by some interview trivia notated on Bulbapedia.
It clearly shows in the way he speaks since his (translated) dialogue (idk about the original japanese one) is full of hamfisted references to formulas and frustration expressed when the chaos of the world does not align with them â which to me is like, the core of his character, something that makes him both An Asshole to deal with but also a very intellectually curios and creative individual. It's just a brand of creativity not a lot of people can keep up with nor understand.
N likes math because a lot of math is about clearly defined variables and their relationship to one another. If you come across an inconsistency that doesn't fit any prior definitions, you iron out a new definition and suddenly the field has expanded upon itself tenfold. It aligns with how his Very Autistic Brain functions, x + y = z, if I do x to y then z will happen. If z doesn't happen, then that just means I have to identify the hidden variables within the exchange and rewrite the formula to be more accurate.
Black and White's quality of writing is. Like pokémon often is. Questionable at best. The foundations are there but the execution is dumbed down and corny because it's still aimed at kids, BW in specific really cutting the theme of pokémon trainer ethics short in favor of just "dang u beat me in the pogiebattle guess ur right!". How-ev-er. In my head, and the reason why I still find the plot of those games compelling (aside for my unhinged thirst for goth man-milf Ghetsis) is that to me they're about local cult-raised autist Normal Henry Gropus bashing his head against the world over and over to desperately try and make the formulas make sense, to distill it into variables he can understand and predict on a consistent basis, and failing miserably at it. Because even if the world is Technically made up of a bunch of chemistry that you could, in theory, predict, there's just a lot of random noise in there from microscopic complexities that fuck everything up.
Pokémon are simpler creatures (discounting the eerily intelligent ones) who will be nice enough to behave like math problems most of the time. Humans rarely extend that grace, the more N studies them like a science project the more contradictory variables pop up. They have a million thoughts in their head he doesn't have access to, that brew into feelings he doesn't understand, which leads to actions he can't do a proper traceback through. Which is frustrating, devastatingly frustrating. At least at first.
Due to how BW2 pans out and my own yearning for thematic mirroring, whereas Ghetsis gives in to the Autistic Bitterness over all these NTs he doesn't fuckign understand, I like to think N develops a sort of joy in studying people like the impossibly complex math problems we are. Because he likes math, he likes figuring shit out, he likes buying a nightmare rubik's cube and charting the squares out on a nightmare variable graph (listen i am not a math guy. i respect the hustle but my skill level is too low to accurately attempt to simulate the process in writing. im sorry math guys) so he has a home-made flexible cheat code on how to solve any possible mix-up of it. It's fun for him, it stimulates his brain and he is so stupid good at it that he can only share that joy with like a stray alakazam or metagross because he's a bit of a tarzan just hanging out in the wilderness, he doesn't know any high end mathematicians he can casually geek out about combinatorial game theory with, and the normies just do not get it .
I think this math enjoying is kind of a big part of his ~Innocence~ as well, since there's a lot of childlike glee to being a Math Guy. It's the love of problem solving as a process rather than a means to an end, it's playful, but severely misunderstood to the point where people kinda might assume things about you if you are a math guy.
N's love of math helps him love the world but it also isolates him. He's a genius, but since he can't communicate it in a palatable way it'll get overlooked in favor of him just being a loomy weirdo on the street chatting up the local patrats.
If introduced to DnD though he'd spend so much time on forging ridiculously optimized multiclass builds, then migrate to digging through old obscure sci-fi ttrpgs from the 80s with hellishly complex systems just for the funsies of learning how the presented variables behave within a variety of frameworks, but then if you actually invited him to play with your group he'd look at you like you'd just called his mom a llama.
He's a neat guy to me, STEM guy who's also one of those animal rights activists who's a little too PETA-coded, I like him :)
#this is mostly just headcanons and shit I've made up but we can pretend its meta *wink*#natural harmonia gropius#n harmonia#n pokémon#long post#pokemon bw#pokemon black and white
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The Serpent and Thistle - Chapter Three
Hey, check out this dumb wonker harlot who can't even finish a picture in time to post, but here, have a lil sneak peek small version because who finishes stuff anyway? That would be weird and I am demonstrably not weird. Anyway, here's chapter 3 of pubby pubby jizzy jizz.
Summary: Aziraphale is a Met officer who transfers to a small village police station. Crowley is the local publican. They don't see eye to eye.
There is also a plot. I hope.
Rating: E (E for Eventually)
CW/TW: I'm going to add a content warning here now rather than later, just so people are aware - there will be a couple of briefly mentioned deaths in later chapters of this story, but none of them are any of the characters that we know (including animals, of course). It is, in part, a cop story, so there will be a couple of slightly grim allusions, but we're not going into anything too rough in the story itself. I'll do specific CW/TW tags before the chapters in question, but I just wanted to foreshadow that now.
Special eternal thanks to u/Paperclip_Ninja who did an EXTRA SPECIAL last minute beta this weekend for me because I'm useless and hopeless. Thank you always sun-ox.
Excerpty boi:
Aziraphale looks up to where the vicar is pointing out the culprit, perched neatly atop the belfry. Harry, of course, does not look up. He is investigating the vicarâs trouser leg with benign interest, while PC Muriel Constable squints first at their notepad, and then at the church roof, as if the sum they were quite sure of does not add up in the end.
âIâm sure youâre very busy, officersâarenât we all? But I thought I really should report it. You never know with these things,â says Vicar Brown cheerfully. He seems a nice enough man, although he stands just a little too close and is perhaps a little over familiar. As if to reinforce the point, the vicar claps a chummy hand on Aziraphaleâs shoulder and leaves it there, fingers flexing slightly against the wool. Itâs the sort of thing that would warrant a hand on his baton if he were walking the beat in south London. Here, though, it just makes him wince.
#good omens#good omens fanfic#good omens fanfiction#good omens after dark#good omens fanart#ineffable husbands#aziracrow
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Rowaelin Month Day Seven: All Dressed Up @rowaelinscourt
Month Masterlist // Part One // Part Two // AO3
Doesnât fit in with todayâs prompt, but, I did finish this story one year later so...I think that counts for something.
Warnings: nothing major, ~3.5k words
The Words We Share--Part Three
Rowan Whitethorn grew up on the stories of his homeland. Little myths and legends that fueled his imagination since he was a child. It hadnât taken him long to learn how to create his own stories, how to twist tales and give a voice to his musings. He just never thought it would get him to where he was now.
He stared at the projected numbers for his new release, already there had been two calls for reorders and the official publication date was still a month out. It was set to be his biggest release yet.
And still he feltâŠunsettled.
If that was even the right word. He could spin a villainâs origin story that could chill anyoneâs blood. He could paint the Scotland highlands with vivid accuracy and enchanting detail. Heâd won awards and been featured on dozens of sites and bestsellers lists. Heâd even been offered an adjunct professor position at the local state college to teach creative writing. But he couldnât put a name to this emotion roiling through his chest.
Nothing came.
His phone buzzed with an incoming text on the table beside him and Lorcanâs name flashed on the screen.
>>u see this?
A link to the comment section on a website followed. Aelinâs website.
Rowanâs stomach dropped as his thumb hovered over the link. He tried to imagine just what he was getting himself into. Heâd experienced his share of feedback in the form of book reviews and heâd seen plenty of other comments from other shows heâd been a part of. But thisâŠthis felt different.
He clicked the link before he could second guess himself. And he opened himself up to hell.
It ranged from the usual notes from his fans, those that kept up with his books and how he wrote. And then he found the comments from Aelinâs fans. Which was where he found the crazies. The TikTokers, the influencers, the people who absolutely devoured any form of content with their theories, their headcanons, their passions. Rowan never begrudged a person their hobby, in fact, he encouraged finding something that brought you joy. But thisâŠthisâŠ
xxgalaCREWfan99xx: ok but was no one going to tell me ROWAN WHITETHORN HAD A SEXY VOICE?? Do I have to change my reading habits now??
Readingbaebe: Does he write romance at all?? I refuse to read anything else.
TheMidnightBookClub: to much historyyyy YAWN
BOOKS4LIFE: but y wuz there banter so on point?? Talk about sxxxyy!
Letsreeeeead: @BOOKS4LIFE: I KNOW RIIIIGHT? Tlk abt meet cute??
Jdashbywriter: would love to hear more of your craft Rowan! Thanks for your books.
Some of the commentors were not as crazy as others. There was a reason he refused to get a TikTok account no matter what Dorian tried to tell him it would do for his sales. And there was a reason heâd hired an assistant so he didnât have to deal with any of this.
He reached for his phone, fully prepared to call Aelin and see if sheâd seen any of this. He stopped himself. He couldnât let himself do that. Not after everything that had happened.
Just as he pulled his hand back from his phone, the screen lit up. His heart made an uncomfortable leap until he saw the name.
âWhat, Fen?â he demanded.
âDude, I didnât know you were dating Galathynius,â Fenrys said from the other line. âCongrats!â
Rowan pinched the bridge of his nose. âStop reading random comments on the internet.â
âBut theyâre so entertaining! Probably doing my job better than I can,â Fenrys replied.
Indeed, Rowan had made the remarkably stupid decision to let Fenrys be his media manager. It wasnât that Fenrys couldnât do a job properly or was stupid himself (an idiot, sure, but that was different) he could. It was only that Fenrys had a different vision for just about everything when it came to his books.
âPlease donât let the TikTok win,â Rowan said.
âItâs just TikTok,â Fenrys said.
Rowan cursed. âI hate you.â
âIâm just saying,â Fenrys continued, utterly unaffected by Rowanâs disdain, âyouâre getting more hits on your recent Instagram reels and followers. This whole thing will be good for you.â
Rowan wasnât sure about that. âIs that the only reason you called?â
There was a pause from Fenrys and Rowan felt a distinct rise in dread. Nothing good came from a silence like that.
âRemelle St. Moore wants you on her podcast,â Fenrys said, the words coming out in rapid fire.
âOh for shits-sake,â Rowan muttered, âno.â
He remembered the last time he had interacted with the book influencer at a launch party for one of his fellow writers. Between the alcohol and suggestive comments on her part, heâd barely made it out alive. Really, it was because of that experience he preferred to keep to his own group of fans, or too himself.
âThatâs what I thought youâd say, but sheâs got a lot of viewers,â Fenrys said.
âWhich is why I agreed to the podcast with Aelin,â Rowan groused, âat least she didnât try and grope me at a party.â
âNo, you just tried to play hero and save her from being stood up.â Rowan could practically hear the grin growing on his friendâs face. âWhich must have worked out really good for you based on some of these comments.â
âIâm hanging up,â Rowan said, âno more podcasts. Or interviews.â
âWhat if Aelinâs the one asking?â
He hung up before answering.
Leaning back in his office chair, he tried to ignore what Fenrys had said. Especially the bits about him and Aelin. He knew that nothing had happened between the two of them. And nothing ever would. Heâd known it even before he stepped in to help Aelin save face after being stood up. That hadnât stopped him from stepping in though.Â
He didnât know what had come over him that night at the restaurant, only that he couldnât believe someone had stood her up. He hadnât known it was her, at first. Only that Lorcan and Fenrys were commenting on the fact a woman was dining alone and they were taking bets on what she would do. When he had finally grown tired of their antics, heâd turned to find Aelin swirling a glass of water in her hand looking utterly dejected.
It was a far cry from the Aelin heâd gotten to know over the years. Headstrong and stubborn, wild and untamed, charismatic and independent. Something had shifted over the last eight months, though. Heâd been sure to keep his distance, relying on the illusion of finishing his book. It was mostly a lie. His book was going along well, remarkable even. But then Aelin had gotten a boyfriend. And from the sounds of it, it had been everything sheâd wanted.
Pining after women had never been something Rowan did, but after Aelin and Sam had gotten together it felt like that was all anyone ever talked about at the office. The only response Rowan could think was to take his work elsewhere. He went back to Scotland to visit his mother, he travelled the continental U.S. He did everything in his power to put some much needed distance between him and Aelin Galathynius.
Which did absolutely nothing.
She had already wormed his way into his manuscript. And like a fool, heâd insisted she read it.
Maybe he shouldnât have been surprised she never caught on to his rather blatant illusions. She didnât like him, made it clear. Which was another reason his stepping in at the restaurant was psychotic.Â
But she was Aelin and there was something about her that he couldnât ignore or let go. And seeing Sam stand her up? Hell, it made him angry. And Rowan didnât even know Sam.
Rowan shook his head and shut down his computer. He was being foolish. On so many different levels.
He knew he wasnât going to get any writing done. Instead, he grabbed his jacket, keys, and wallet. He needed to get out of his apartment even if he didnât have a destination in mind.
.*.
The manuscript stared innocently up at her. The Times New Roman font was evenly spaced, paper fresh and crisp from the office printer. Sheâd used Dorianâs own code to print all these pages out so no one would trace the mass printing back to her. Technically she shouldnât have done this. It was a lot of paper and she wasnât even on the editorial team for this author.
But Aelin never did like listening to rules.
I thought it was obvious.
Rowanâs words from earlier that afternoon rang in her head. They bounced around in a relentless beat and refused to be dismissed. Because they meant one thing and one thing alone: she had missed something while reading his book. And she didnât miss things.
So, red pen in hand, fresh coffee on her desk, and a newly printed manuscript before herâAelin set to work.
Just like with the first time reading Dead Manâs Game, she was drawn into the world immediately. The setting, the characters, the subtle tones of magic all worked to create a plot that gripped her by the throat.
During this reread, Aelin focused more on Celaena. Celaena who was reckless and selfish. Celaena who put her life on the line too many times. Celaena who loved fiercely and didnât let anyone hold her back. Celaena who killed witches and broke curses.Â
She stopped reading somewhere around chapter five when something started to prick the back of her mind. Something sheâd tried desperately to stamp down all these years. Even the past few months.
Though, it had been easier as of late because Rowan had disappeared into whatever writersâ nook he had. That night at the restaurant had been one of the first times sheâd seen him since learning about his new book.
She took a long drink of coffee before she fired a text off to Elide. She needed someone to rant to about this because she had no idea what was going on or how to put into words what she was feeling.
When her phone rang a few minutes later, she picked it up on instinct.Â
âElide, did you see what I sent you?â she demanded, still staring at the cliff hanger of chapter five.
Unfortunately for her, it wasnât her friend on the other line. It was Sam.
âAelin.â He sounded relieved, which only made her blood pressure boil. âIâve been trying to get a hold of you, baby.â
Aelin glanced at the Caller ID. He must have gotten a burner phone and sheâd been too distracted to make sure she knew the number.
âThereâs nothing to talk about,â she said. âI broke up with you, end of story.â
âYou didnât even let me explainââ
âExplain what, Sam?â Aelin demanded. All the pent-up anger sheâd been trying to ignore and push aside rose too quickly to the surface. âThat you stood me up again without bothering to try and call, hell, even text me? Instead, I was left alone. Again.â
The anger burned away the tears she might have shed. He didnât deserve her tears; he didnât deserve anything from her.
âYouâre blaming me?â Sam scoffed. âI have a job, Aelin. Iâm a lawyer, I donât get to sit around all day reading booksââ
âLose my number, Sam,â she said, eyes squeezed shut, âor I swear Iâll give your lawyer ass something to work over.â
She ended the call before flinging her phone across her office where it clattered against the wall.  The pain that ripped through her chest was more than just anger, but sorrow and pain. Sheâd wasted so much time over Sam that coming out of it she felt like she was drowning. She was barely treading water, she wasâ
âWhy am I not surprised to find you here?â
Aelin nearly jumped out of her skin at the deep, careful voice coming from the doorway. She spun in her chair, nearly careening out of it at the force, and found Rowan standing there. How much had he heard? How would he laud this over her head? Did he judge her at all for the things sheâd said?
âRowan,â she said, far softer than she meant to. Her skin was blazing over the phone call with Sam and she felt the flush deep in her cheeks, horrified that she was actually on the verge of crying now.
He jerked his chin over to where sheâd tossed her phone. âBad call?â
Aelin huffed a breath. âSure, if you wanna call it that.â
Rowan stepped into her office, slow and careful as though he expected her to toss him back out. He was dressed far more casual than Aelin had ever seen him. With a pair of dark washed jeans and gray sweater, plain leather jacketâhe seemed relaxed and at ease. Not at all how sheâd imagined him on a regular week day.
And then, because he seemed to know her so well, he made another comment. âYour boyfriend really seems like a keeper.â
âNot my boyfriend, not anymore.â Aelin didnât look at him as she grabbed her coffee. It was shocking how good it felt saying the words, like a weight was lifted off her chest. âJust doing some late-night reading, right now.â
Rowan frowned glancing at the manuscript. The title page was tossed to the side so it was obvious what book it was.
âYou already gave me your edits,â he said.
âYeah, but I thought I was missing something.â She shrugged and set the coffee aside. âWhat about you? Why bother coming here?â
Rowan ran a hand through his hair, messing the easy style it had settled into. He didnât answer her question immediately, choosing instead to fall into one of the chairs before her desk. The movement was so easy, as though heâd practiced it a hundred times, as though he belonged right in that chair.
âDid you see those comments on the podcast?â
Aelinâs brow furrowed. Then, startling not just him, but her tooâshe laughed. âOh, Whitethorn, you donât actually read those comments. Those people are insane.â
âA warning might have been nice,â he grumbled.
Another laugh tore through her, dispelling the sick feeling roiling in her gut. âOh, poor little buzzard. Are you traumatized?â
âYes.â
Dissolving into another fit of giggles, Aelin clutched her stomach. She couldnât catch her breath as she kept laughing. It didnât help how affronted Rowan look, how confused. It wasâŠit was actually cute. Not that sheâd tell him that.
âWhatâs the madhouse got to say this time?â she asked once sheâd gotten a hold of herself. She also reached for one of her desk drawers and pulled out a bag of chocolate she only saved for rainy days. She popped a truffle in her mouth and shook the bag at him.
Rowan declined the chocolate. âIt doesnât matter.â
âYouâre blushing,â she said, leaning towards him. âOh, Iâve got to see these.â
âIâm notânoââ he tried protesting but Aelin was already motivated to see what had gotten him so riled up.
It didnât take long to get the gist of what heâd gotten so riled up over.
âOh, these people need to touch some grass,â Aelin muttered. Many of the insinuations and comments wereâŠout there. Far worse than when sheâd interviewed an audiobook narrator known for his smut and spice scenes. And that was saying something.Â
âYou deal with this a lot?â Rowan asked.
Aelin looked at him. âAnd you donât?â
âFenrys filters a lot of them,â Rowan said absently, he paused just a second. âYou think I get a lot of these types of comments?â
âIââ Aelin only then realized what her comment sounded like. âYouâre a famous author, the crazies exist everywhere.â
She fought down the heat rising in her cheeks while Rowan only smirked.
âThatâs it?â she asked, tightly, âyou wanted to compare notes on comments? You could have called.â
âSeeing what you do to your phone, I donât think the call would have gone through.â He met her gaze, green eyes intent.
Hell. He must have heard more of that phone call than sheâd have liked.
âYeah,â she said dryly, âI guess I donât like phone calls.â
They sat in silence together for far longer than Aelin would have thought possible. She couldnât help but shake her head at the fact. Drawing a finger over the last few lines sheâd read of Rowanâs manuscript; she snatched another truffle.
âSo,â she said, âcan I ask you something?â
Rowan raised a brow. âAs long as itâs not gonna make it on another podcast.â
She rolled her eyes. âNo need to fear, buzzard. This is off the record. Itâs about Celaena.â
Rowan shifted in his chair. âWhy?â
Was he annoyed? She couldnât quite tell. He wore a frown, that charming shit-eating grin long gone. It was replaced by something guarded.
Aelin drummed her fingers on the manuscript, wetting her dry lips. âSheâs based on someone close to you.â
âClose enough,â he shrugged, but Aelin had long ago learned how to read people. He was tense, worried.Â
âDoes she know? The woman sheâs based off of?â With far more bravado than she felt, Aelin rose from her chair and came around the table. She leaned against the desk, facing him, and crossed her arms.
âAelinââ
âOr is she just supposed to figure it out along the way?â
She wasnât mad, really, she wasnât. More, shocked than anything.
âTo whatever end,â Celaena said, pointing the sword to the horizon where the ship holding her captive lover could be seen retreating. âI will find you.â
And Aelin remembered the last time sheâd reviewed Rowanâs book. Where sheâd told him to raise the stakes, to let his characters face the unspeakable, to let them be reckless, to let them love. And here was Celaena. It wasnât just that, but Aelin had shared those exact words with Rowan. That had been eight months ago.
Romance, Whitethorn, should be consuming for a character. Let them have a purpose, let them have a duty to fulfill, to whatever end.
âTo whatever end, Rowan?â she asked.
âIâm not allowed to find inspiration in real things or people?â He was still sitting, looking up at her the almost perfect picture of innocence.
She nudged his foot with her own. âRowan.â
âWhy does it matter?â he insisted. He rose from his chair and it struck Aelin then how big Rowan was. He was practically a treeâbroad shoulders, thick muscles, at least six feet, probably six-four. Aelin had never really felt small before, delicate, or breakable. But next to Rowan?Â
She lifted her chin to meet his gaze. She didnât want to hedge around this question, this tension brewing between them anymore. She would wait out his answer no matter how long it took.
Rowan leaned closer to her, close enough that Aelin could smell the pine and salt on his skin. He was close enough that she could see the flecks of deeper green amid the light in his eyes.
Her heart rate picked up. It would have been embarrassing if she thought about it a little more. But now, all she wanted was for Rowan to answer her.
He shook his head, just barely, and muttered something under his breath. It was something in Gaelic if she had to guess.
âYou really donât get it,â he said.
âI want to hear you say it,â she insisted.
âYou really are impossible, you know?â
âSo Iâve read.â
A small smile quirked his lips and before Aelin could say anything else, he reached out to run a thumb down her jaw. A shiver ran down her spine with anticipation.Â
âI like you, Aelin,â he said, thumb still tracing her skin, âand I have for a while.â
Something clicked in her mind at those words, an understanding of sorts and she furrowed her brow.
âIs that why you disappeared for seven months? You were here practically every day and then you just werenâtââ she trailed off slowly as the pieces fit together. âSam.â
Rowan shrugged as though her words had no effect on him, but she felt the barest hint of pressure as his fingers tightened along her jaw.
âI had a manuscript to finish,â he said, âdidnât help that you hated me and then you were happy with someone else. So, yeah, I left.â
As if on instinct, Aelin reached out and fisted a hand in his sweater. Somehow in the last twenty-four hours since the podcast, the last week since the pseudo-dateâsheâd gotten attached. Which was both hilarious and terrifying. But was she surprised? No, no, she really wasnât.
âI was going to tease you for writing romance into your book,â she began, head tilted to the side, âbut I think being the brilliant inspiration behind Celaena will be a lot more fun to hold over you.â
Rowan cursed, shaking his head. âIâm never going to live it down, am I?â
âNope.â
They moved at the same time, coming together in a kiss that Aelin would later describe as the best first kiss sheâd ever had. One of Rowanâs hands delved into her hair, the other dropping to her waist to pull her closer. Aelin wrapped one hand around his neck, just as desperate to keep him close.Â
His lips were hard, bruising against her own, but Aelin couldn't find it in herself to care. All she could think about was the fire burning within at the feel of him, the taste of him.
âYou gonna take me on a date first, Whitethorn?â she gasped, breaking the kiss. She shivered as on of his hands slid along the bare skin of her thigh. Wearing a skirt did seem to have its perks.
âAlready did that,â he replied.
She gaped at him, ready to tell him off. He cut her off with another kiss, which Aelin supposed was just as well.
In the end, no one would get the real story about what really happened that night or how it happened. But maybe, along the way, a future book would hold some of the details.
end.
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Me every time DantÚs opens his mouth abt Haydée once MercédÚs leaves:
Monte Cristo......... I will smack the shit out of u
What. The Count of Monte Cristo is so good :0
#SHE'S 19#U ARE 42#do not even get me started on the Valentine-Maximilian age/experience gap#but HAYDĂE#she's yr SLAVE#0 life experience. 0 independence.#100 audacity though I have to give her that#marching into a court session full of men alone in a veil to dramatically reveal yr past & condemn the man who ruined yr life >>>>>#she IS the moment#but then like she does that. & then goes right back to ~oh count I love u count not as a father but as a man đ„° I never leave the house đ„°~#yeuch. anyway#I wish I knew what Dumas was thinking when he wrote her#it would've been way better to have her & DantĂšs simply be In Vengeful Cahoots since they have a common goal & temperament#but nooo we had to get the weird daughter/slave/ward/concubine/potential wife oscillation#is she there for 19yo girls w mysterious billionaire fantasies to project onto. would I feel differently abt her if I'd read this at 19. hm#no I don't think so#this smacks of Jane/Rochester but at least there is a difference between employee & SLAVE#also Jane just. does not give a fuck. she has the temperament to march out whenever she wishes to AND SHE DOES#she goes out & becomes a teacher. builds a community. meets new people#THEN when she is a more developed person she goes back & they manage to work something out#HaydĂ©e is the epitome of ~in my getting the news via my boyfriend era đ„° I don't read any my bf will tell me if I need to know it đ„°~#does not speak the local language. never goes outside. wholly dependent on DantĂšs for food lodging wardrobe &c.#& I'm not blaming her for any of that (her backstory is Pretty Traumatic for one)#I AM blaming DUMAS đ #The Count of Monte Cristo
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Hello. This is a rather mundane question considering all the things, but I got curious. Does Hebrew have accents? How do they vary in and out of Israel?
I understand if you choose not to reply as this is a difficult time for you. In any case, take caređ©·đ©·đ©·
Hi Nonnie! No, don't worry, all questions that are truly interested in Jewish culture are welcome! ^u^
TBH, something to remember about Hebrew is that it has quite a unique history. To the best of my knowledge, it is the only language that was used on a daily basis as the lived in language of a native population, then "died" as a result of Jews being exiled. As they found themselves in other countries, they had to speak the local language. They didn't abandon Hebrew, but it stopped being the langauge in which they lived their daily lives. Hebrew became the language of prayer, of scripture study, and terms from it bled into the local languages Jews spoke, creating Jewish versions of these languages (Yiddish being the Jewish version of German, Ladino being the Jewish version of Spanish, Yevanik being the Jewish version of Greek, and there are also Jewish versions of Arabic and other languages, too), so Hebrew still had an impact on Jews, and they were still connected to it... but it was no longer a "living" language. It was closer to what Latin is today. A language in which religious ceremonies are conducted, that theologians study, but not a language that anyone conducts their daily life in.
Then, as a part of the project of reclaiming and reviving the Jewish native life in Israel that came to be known as Zionism, people set out to revive our native language, too. There was a realization that it had to be adapted to modern life, give it terms for things that didn't exist 2,000 years ago, so it would be useful for people who wanted to conduct their daily lives in Hebrew again. And that's how the last of the Canaanite languages became the only "dead" language to be revived, and return to be the lived in language of its native people.
I mention this unique history, because modern Hebrew isn't the same as biblical Hebrew (though about 60% of modern Hebrew IS biblical). It means if there were different Hebrew accents during biblical times, we don't know it for sure.
At the same time, the fact that Jews were spread out in the diaspora, and their pronunciation of Hebrew (as a dead language) came to be influenced by the local languages they spoke while in exile. So a Jew who returned to Israel from the diaspora in Germany, a Jew who returned to Israel from the diaspora in Argentina, and a Jew who returned to Israel from the diaspora in Yemen do not have the same accent when speaking Hebrew.
But these are not considered regional accents of Hebrew in the same way that you can find different regional accents of English when traveling across England... If we put aside the accents of Jews returning to Israel, and instead we look at the accents of Jews born in Israel, the ones born into speaking modern Hebrew, there's a myth of a Jerusalem accent. I say myth, because you'll hear all over Israel people swearing, that Jerusalemites pronounce a few words differently. The most common example is the word 'mataim' (which means two hundred), and many Israelis insist Jerusalemites pronounce it ma'ataim, with the first vowel prolonged and emphasized. I have lived in Jerusalem since 2002 and I have never heard it. I think in this sense, regional accents are usually, at least in part, a product of geography. It determines how far apart people live, how much they interact, how much they hear others speaking the same language as they do. The smaller a country, and the easier travel in it is, the fewer accents it's likely to produce. And I think that's the main reason why there aren't really accents in Israel (other than those of people who came to speak Hebrew as a second language), because it's a very small country, and because today, it's pretty easy to travel in it (you can cross it from the most northern point to the most southern one in slightly over 5 hours).
I hope that kind of answers it? Thank you for the kind words, I hope you're well, too! xoxox
#ask#anon ask#israel#hebrew#jewish history#jewish#jew#jews#jumblr#frumblr#native israeli#native history#cultural revival#language revival#native revival
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hi adm! love your blog. do u have any recs from unknown authors? thank you!
Hi, anon! Thanks so much for the kind words! I wouldn't call them all "unknown" necessarily, but I'd say underappreciated for how good their fics are! Here are some great fics by writers who I think a lot of readers would like if they gave them a chance!
When the Lights Go Out by thelarenttrap / @antidotetogo
âLouis, what do you have to say about how last week ended?â the reporter asks. Thereâs a moment of silence. Harry is looking at the reporter, but eventually gives in and looks down the table at Louis. Heâs looking straight ahead, as if Harry isnât even in the room. âIf you canât take the heat, then get out of the kitchen.â Harry leans forwards, placing his arms on the table and leaning onto them to get as close to his microphone as he can while looking at Louis. âAnd whatâs that supposed to mean?â Louis turns to him, his icy blue eyes meeting Harry's. âDriving is your fuckinâ job, act like it.â
In its near eighty years of existence, Formula 1 has never had an out gay driver. In 2017, Harry Styles signs a contract with Scuderia AlphaTauri alongside his childhood friend and competitor, Louis Tomlinson. The next decade of their careers is some of the most tumultuous press--on and off the track--Formula 1 has ever seen.
aka the one where Louis and Harry are childhood friends to enemies to lovers over the course of 15 ish years.
The Things We Know To Be Wild by harryanthus_annuus / @harryanthus-annuus
Louis is a London zoologist sent by the University of Highlands and Islands to assess the safety of the island of Eroda as part of the Wonder Seekers Project for sustainable tourism. With his signature needed to write off the concerns raised by the investors - owing to dragons - he faces the true, unassuming local life, and finds himself blindsided by the forms it takes.
(your smile is) on every face by @justanothershadeofblue
Harry streams the whole thing, too overwhelmed to sing along, clutching his phone above his head as Louis whips the fans into a frenzy, playing both sides of the stage before staking a claim to the middle. Niall is shouting along beside him, lost in the madness and dancing something formless and frantic and free. Harry doesnât even notice the pins and needles in his arm until the encore break, tears springing to his eyes as he switches hands and lowers his arm slowly, letting the blood rush back into it. He bites back a sob and glances at the screen. Maybe he could stop streaming, use his phone hand to massage some life back into his poor arm.
Harry blinks. There are fifteen thousand people watching his stream.
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hi hi just wanted to share smth I thought up
imagine chigiri who in middle school had a best friend who was also very fast and did track. They were the only one who could ever catch up with chigiri and thus they became best friends and their own sorta rivals.
Then suddenly fast track to chigiri's injury and now seeing their best friend who runs like wind and is now bitter af. He knows he shouldnt be bitter when they have been caring the whole time for him so he starts ignoring them.
some chigiri love will be shown on the earthtooz blog 2nite because i adore him and think he deserves the world.
i actually love this scenario, but just- oh my gosh, i want to add on to your thought with my own:
your 'relationship' with him is admittedly, one of your favourite ones, despite neither of you seeing much of each other during school. but you were known to be on the track team and chigiri for being the fasted sprinter on the soccer team.
and on the bleachers after practice, a friendship/friendly rivalry was born.
for two of the fastest people on their respective teams, your parents sure did not reciprocate that energy, taking their times picking you up from practice. thus, you would spend an unknown amount of time talking to him, bundled up in your sports tracksuits with your sports bag snug on your shoulder.
chigiri was pleasant company. a little stuck-up, sure, but fun to talk to nevertheless. you could tell he took great pride in being a fast runner, but as long as he had the skills to prove it, pride is something you can overlook. it was endearing. he still lost to you every time in a 100m sprint though.
you gave him tips one time. you'd never forgive yourself for helping chigiri almost beat you.
but you admire him for it. you admire his talent and his determination,
then suddenly, he's not at practice. he's not at school either. in fact, it's not a week later until you see him... with crutches and a boot. the look he gives you is empty and devoid of the usual friendliness he always shows you and he doesn't even make attempts of greeting you.
his mum picks him on time too.
you get the message that he doesn't want to talk to you. he doesn't make the effort to anymore, doesn't swing by your class during lunch time, doesn't say 'hi' to you before practice, and his coldness causes your heart to break in two.
people had always told you that distance makes the heart fonder. you found out yourself that the saying was as true as they make it sound, your heart jumping alive and filling you with unexplainable yearning. a feeling you later label as a crush. not that your crush on him could do much now.
you see him struggle in practices, witnessing the way the ball gets stolen off him- something that had never been done before, with such ease. he meets your gaze from where you were filling up your water and instantly glances away, ashamed.
the next time you hear of him after graduating middle school, he's on national television, going against the national u-20 soccer team, representing some... project called blue lock? you don't pay any mind to it though, sitting on the edge of your couch in anticipation. the world was watching chigiri hyoma- the prodigy you knew in middle school.
you panic a little when he gets subbed out and you're scrambling for your phone, searching for chigiri's contact. your old messages that were left on delivered appear, causing a subtle ache in your chest to manifest, but the first thing you send is an 'i'm watching the match. are you ok?'.
the next thing you send is a 'CONGRATULATIONS!' when his team wins.
you get a response an hour later, it's chigiri thanking you. his next text asks you to catch up over coffee. you agree as soon as the message is received.
one coffee 'date' turns into a day in harajuku. a walk together turns into visiting a local park and playing on the swing set, jokingly racing each other to each equipment and your feelings for him return full swing by the end of the two week break he has.
you spend his last day together. he tells you to keep an eye on him. that he'll become even better of a soccer player that either of you imagined in middle school. you make him keep the promise to you with a pinky promise. he agrees. you're satisfied.
and fast forward a few years, it's the night before the finals of the world cup and he's in your arms in the hotel room, self-care routine all done as you let him unwind with you in preparation for the big match tomorrow.
he tells you to watch him. that he'll bring home a medal for you. you make him pinky promise you. he agrees. he kisses your ring finger, where a precious gold band sits snugly, a reminder of his love and the years you have spent with the other.
thank u for ur ask !! sorry that i've been letting this one rot for a while but i've been waiting to get this one out since the day you sent it :D love the idea, thank u chaos!!
#not edited#not proofread#you take what you get from me at this point#i have an exam tomorrow okay wish me luck#chigiri hyoma x reader#chigiri x reader#blue lock x reader#earf's inbox hours âïž#*à©â©â§âË earf's ideas that i'll never write#chaosinanutshell
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