#like didn’t we just do that exactly on this hellsite

[wall-maria-around-ba-sing-se]

You know I was expecting weird things out of tiktok but I wasn’t expecting so many things that happened on tumblr to just… happen again. Wholesale. Over there in perfect “time is a flat circle” fashion

How many other times must have these events transpired

[1-800-kami]

R U MINE? feat. gojo satoru

gojo satoru has got to be the picture definition of a stereotypical college frat boy. he’s cocky, loaded with his daddy’s money, and dangerously handsome. it seems like common sense to stay away from him since you’ll never get more than a one-night stand out of it. 

that’s why you choose to turn a blind eye once you’ve come to the horrific realization: you’re in love with him. and you’re just itching to ask…

“are you mine tomorrow? or just mine tonight?”

IMPORTANT: part two is out! read here :)

content: 8k words, afab!reader, angst! fluff! heartbreak! n everything in between! implied smut, rich college frat boy gojo and hellcat driver geto 🤑, emotional rollercoaster, reader has a toxic ex, trust issues (?) gojo is absolutely insufferable, misunderstandings, use of words hoe, slut, etc., mutual pining, some jjk character cameos (wink wink) me writing very unfunny dialogue, no bc wtf is this, cheating implications, emo gojo (the worst warning of them all)

author's note: hello hello! my name is kami, i've been reblogging fics on tumblr for a while now but i've recently figured out how to work this hellsite, so i'm going to start posting fics that i write! thank you to those who enjoyed my nanami drabble <3 kisses 4 u all.

this fic IS split into two parts and there is smut in the second part. so just. prepare yourselves for that ig.

reblog and interact for a kiss ;)

“so… let me get this straight.”

“go ahead.”

shoko takes a deep breath, and you just somehow know that she’s pinching her nose in exasperation right now. “utahime dragged you out to a party in hopes that you would hit it off with somebody. you wander off on your own and later, she sees you and gojo–THE gojo satoru–giving you his number?!”

“uh, yeah. that’s exactly what happened.”

“do you even understand what you’re getting yourself into?! that man bags hoes like they’re pokemon!” you readjust the phone against your ear and sigh at shoko’s comment. 

“okay, first of all, never say that again. second, i rejected all of his advances. i didn’t even save his number.” you stare at the crinkled-up note in your hands, which proudly displays his number and a slick call me if you change your mind ;). you wonder if you could sell this paper to his fangirls–you’d surely make a little bit of cash out of it. “i’ve seen gojo around. i know that i shouldn’t mess with him. plus, he was drunk as hell at the party; i doubt he even remembers my name. to him, i’m just some chick that he’s frustrated at because she didn’t want to fuck him the second she saw him.”

“do you… do you share any classes with him?”

“i don’t think i do.. just, don’t worry about it, okay? i’ll throw away his number and we can put all of this behind us. here, i’ll do it right now.” you rip up the paper into a few pieces before tossing it in the garbage can. hopefully, you did it loud enough that shoko heard it through the phone. “i get that you’re worried for me. and i appreciate that, but i can handle myself.”

“just… no more mention of gojo anymore, okay? you’re right, y/n. let’s just put this all behind us.” shoko sighs, and you smile at that. problem solved. you threw away his number, and he’s most likely moved on to the next girl by now, so that was that. now, you just have to forget about satoru gojo.

all to never let yourself get hurt ever again.

it’s hard to forget about gojo.

not because of those dangerous blue eyes of his–getting anyone lost in them if they stare for too long. not because of his stupid silvery white hair, which makes him look like a mop, and sometimes like a paintbrush. not that stupid cocky grin of his, either…

...but because you’ve recently found out that he sits next to you for physics.

the revelation was truly disheartening. you thought you could avoid him for the rest of the year because as far as you knew, you shared no classes with him. however, you completely forgot about the fact that gojo never attends class in the first place, and you don’t even know what classes he’s in… because he’s never there. so finding out that the seat next to you in physics wasn’t just an empty seat, and it was gojo’s assigned one, was truly an experience.

“gojo.” the name alone makes your heart stop, and you drop your pen to look at the man your teacher was addressing. “finally choosing to attend class for once?”

speak of the devil.

there he was, in all his glory–the man you’d never thought you had to deal with ever again. the man who tried to butter you up with his corny sweet talk so that you would go home with him for the night. the man who persisted with talking to you, even though you were barely interested. the man, who, at the end of the night, insisted on writing down his number for you in case you changed your mind about him and gave him a chance.

you wanted to shrink into your seat and never resurface. 

“good morning, yaga!” he says rather loudly, with no regard to honorifics at all. a few giggles could be heard across the classroom–though geto suguru’s voice was prominent–satoru’s equally as infamous bestfriend. “and yeah! it’s surprising, isn’t it?”

what’s also surprising is how gojo took a seat next to you. you thought that there was a mistake, that your teacher would scold him for sitting somewhere he isn’t supposed to sit and relocate him elsewhere. however, yaga just grumbles and begins the lesson, leaving you helpless and unable to look at the man next to you.

you swear he’s burning holes at the back of your head.

pleasdon’tremembermeisweartogodpleasedon’trememberme-

“you’re that girl from the party, right?” he whispers, and you’ve never wanted to disappear so badly in your life. you slowly nod your head, turning to look at him, and he pouts. “y/n l/n. you never saved my number. hmph, i was looking forward to a text from you, too.”

“i’m surprised you even remember me, 'cause you were fucking wasted that night.” you twiddle your pencil, averting your gaze from the man. “and i never saved your number cause i threw the paper in the trash. it’s probably at a landfill somewhere, y’know.”

your words catch him off guard, and you laugh at how surprised satoru looks. it seems that’s definitely not an emotion he shows often. despite his initial reaction, satoru swears he could feel butterflies with the way your laugh sounds.

“not a common problem for a womanizer, huh?”

“what did you just call me?!-”

“y/n and gojo, do either of you have something to share with the class?” a dark blush of embarrassment covers your face, and somewhere in the back, you could hear geto snickering. gojo just smirks at yaga, seeming completely uanffected. “then i’d suggest you stay quiet the rest of this lesson. don’t make me separate you two.”

“i’d prefer that, actually…” gojo huffs at your comment, thinking of this as a lost opportunity if the two of you get separated. he does a once over at your appearance. you’re cute, but definitely not the party kind. you’re playing hard to get, and gojo finds it adorable–not a lot of girls go that way with him. however, gojo thinks you’re not just like any girl. there’s something different about you that intrigues him.

“did no one ever tell you that it’s rude to stare?”

“how could i not? you’re so cute.” 

“i thought you already learned from the party, gojo. i’m not interested in you.” 

the light blush coating your cheeks says otherwise. he smiles cheekily at the way you tried to hide your reaction to his words. you’re an enigma to gojo… and he’s drawn to you like a moth to a flame. he thinks he’s made his decision.

he’s gonna do whatever’s possible to get your number.

when the bell rings 30 minutes later, you shove your notebook into your bag, eager to finally leave the class that you had with that stupid paintbrush. that is, until he stops you with a question. “what class do you have next?”

he’s relentless. “why do you care?”

“i want to walk you to your next class,” he says, and smirks before saying his next words. “it doesn’t really matter if you tell me or not. i’ll just follow you anyways.”

you sigh, absolutely exasperated with him. he’s like a fly who keeps invading your personal space—always coming back no matter how many times you swat it away. he’s right, though. damn him for being stubborn. “i actually have this period free.”

“oh, sweet!” he chirps, walking with you out the door, making sure to greet geto before he leaves the classroom. “let’s go to the courtyard. i’ll buy you a drink from the vending machine-“

“i was gonna do that regardless if you were here or not.” you give him a look, and you can’t help but tug on your sleeves when you see people whisper to each other as you walk the halls with gojo. of course you’ve heard the rumors. the man next to you is the most popular guy on campus. girls glare daggers at you and the guys call his name, although he barely even acknowledges them. 

some common things that you’ve heard about gojo around the school are: “i heard he only talks to girls for sex,” “apparently his best friend geto is just as much of a player!” “i mean, who wouldn’t fuck a guy like gojo, though? he’s hot and loaded.” “that’s how he reels you in, though. he gets his hand in your pants and never calls you back again.” you know you should stay away from him, it’s common sense, but it’s hard to stay away from him when he’s the one who glues himself to your side. 

“well, now you’ll get a free drink and we’ll get to know each other! isn’t that great?” he smiles and you just grimace at his words. 

“i don’t need your money…”

“don’t care! can’t hear you!” he says, and you’ve seriously considered just making a run for it. at least you’ll lose him, and you’d finally be able to find peace for a bit. although, it would cause a scene, and gojo would probably end up finding you again somehow. 

“what can i do to get you to leave me alone?”

that piques his interest, even though he looks slightly hurt by your question. he thinks for a bit, and smirks. “i really do want to buy you something from the vending machine.. and i want you to spend your free period with me. i’ll leave you alone for the rest of the day if you do.”

“do you promise? like, actually?”

“mhm! pinky promise!” you feel like you’re talking to a prepubescent boy.

“then sure-“ you’re about to agree, but he cuts you off with one more condition.

“i also want your number.”

you feel like you’ve been cursed by a god, because having the most popular guy on campus be interested in you has got to be the most chaotic thing to ever happen in your life.

“what do you have me saved as?” 

the question comes from out of the blue, and you look up from the book you were completely absorbed in. you and satoru were at the school library, on a “study date” as he calls it, although it was more so just gojo inviting himself to wherever place you go, as per usual. this time, you have an exam to study for, and you explicitly told him not to bother you unless absolutely necessary.

you do have to say, though, he’s not annoying as you thought he was. he just nagged you way more the first day he sat next to you in physics so he could get your number. it’s been a few days since then, but still, you’d definitely be more efficient in your studies if you didn’t have him attached to your hip all the time.

“satoru, i told you not to bother me-“

“unless absolutely necessary. yeah, i heard you, and this question needs an absolutely necessary answer! contact names really say a lot about our relationship, y’know.”

“relationship? nobody ever said we were even friends-“

“don’t break my heart like that, babe. plus, you don’t call me gojo anymore! it’s satoru to you now,” his heart warms at that realization, and you scoff, especially at the pet name. “we are friends, unless you’d like to be something more...”

“if you say anything else i’m calling you by your government name. gojo satoru.” he looks especially wounded by that.

“ah! don’t do that, please. it feels like we’re a married couple and you’re really mad at me.” he cries and you can’t help but giggle at his words. you decide to entertain him a little bit, fishing through your pocket to find your phone. 

he almost passes out at what he sees on your screen.

“it’s just my number? you didn’t even save my contact?!-“

the shushes from your fellow students and the librarians aren’t even enough to calm gojo’s agony and despair. it also does nothing to stop your laughter, either.

from that day on, gojo’s contact was forcefully changed from his number to “satoru” (he initially added a heart, but you deleted it, much to his disappointment) and one of his many selfies from his stupid instagram account. how the hell can a college student even have thousands of followers?! you think. 

gojo just says that nobody can resist his shirtless post-workout selfies. you’re surprised that you didn’t slap him at his words.

you push him away.

everytime gojo buys your favorite drink, (it’s always on him, despite your genuine insistence in saying that you could pay for your drink just fine.) everytime he walks you to all of your classes each day, (he memorized your schedule just so he could do this) everytime he buys you your favorite foods on the rare instances that you let him take you out for lunch, (usually, this requires a lot of begging, and you mostly relent during class when you’re just exasperated and wanted to get some notes down.), and everytime he calls you by those stupid pet names of his, you think back to what the entire student body says about him, and you think back to your phone call with shoko, where she warns you to not associate with him so you don’t get hurt by anyone ever again, and you push him away.

you push him away even when you realize that if he just wanted you for sex, he would’ve stopped chasing after you when you didn’t text him after that night at the party.

and that thought alone scares you.

still, you’re not heartless. satoru’s been asking to take you out for a while, and you finally agreed to go today. he’s especially chipper about your agreement right now, walking with a slight pep in his step as he bit around his ice cream cone. 

the park boasts some beautiful scenery today, and little children are out and about. still, you underestimated the weather, and the cold uncomfortably nipped your arms as you internally cursed yourself out for wearing just a shirt. you crossed your arms as a subtle way to shield yourself from the cold.

“don’t play coy with me, y/n. are you cold?” satoru says with a cocky grin, and you huff at his question. surprisingly, he drops the teasing act and unzips his sweater, handing it to you. “here, take it.”

“satoru-“

“i’m not doing this to flirt or whatever you’re thinking right now. you’re shivering, and i’m just concerned for you, so please wear it.” he deadpans, and it’s the first time you’ve seen him be so… upfront? you kind of like it. it’s not him teasing you or him being flirty. it’s just him showing that he genuinely cares for you as a friend. you take the sweater with a nod and put it on, ignoring how your heart is thumping as you take in his signature smell. cedarwood with a little bit of musk. it’s not an overpowering scent, but it still envelopes your senses.

“nevermind. you look so cute with my hoodie on. i feel like we’re in a j-drama right now, y/n!”

you take back everything you just said.

a few minutes later, you two are near the kids playground when you decide to take a break from walking, sitting on a nearby bench with gojo. the chirping of the birds and the wind passing through the trees is quickly overpowered by loud crying. crying from the child right in front of you, in fact.

you’re about to ask him what’s wrong, but satoru beats you to it. he kneels in front of the kid, and coos, “hey, buddy. what’s your name, hm?”

he stops crying for a moment to look at gojo and shakily responds, “gumi-um, megumi fushiguro..” 

“megumi, huh.” he clicks his tongue for a moment. “why are you crying, megumi?”

“i-i don’t know where my dad is!” he cries, and satoru looks to you for help. you just shrug, unsure of what to do with the lost kid, until gojo’s face lights up, assumingly with a great idea.

“he’s most likely just around here somewhere. you can wait with us, and we’ll help you find him! say, do you want an ice cream to help you feel better, megumi?” the boy hesitantly nods, and satoru gives him a thumbs up as he takes him to the nearby ice cream stand. you’re watching this entire scene unfold, absolutely enamored with gojo for the first time. you didn’t think he had a natural talent with kids—but the way he’s making megumi laugh while he happily snacks on his ice cream says otherwise. an outsider could look at you three and assume that you’re just a happy family. 

you try to ignore how that makes you feel.

and as you wave goodbye to megumi once he eventually is reunited with his father again, (an intimidating man who gave you two an appreciative nod as he walked away with his son.) you realize something as you tug on the sleeves of your-satoru’s sweater. 

you’re in love with gojo satoru.

and fuck, that revelation scares you more than anything. the last time you had given your heart to a man, he had crushed it repeatedly until you decided that you would never let yourself be vulnerable like that ever again. 

and now, you're in love with your school’s notorious playboy—and it feels like you’re setting yourself up to be heartbroken again. you want disregard those rumors and shoko’s words so badly, but they still eat at the back of your mind even though the real gojo satoru is right in front of you, and he doesn’t match the characteristics of the gojo satoru in those rumors at all.

you also remember that he has one real best friend, geto suguru. you like to think that this is also what geto sees in gojo. the reason why he’s stuck around.

the reason why you want to stick around too.

you’re so busy in your head that you’ve just noticed gojo frantically waving his hand in your face. “earth to y/n? oh, good! i thought you had, like, a shock reaction from seeing megumi’s father. he looked a little scary, no?” 

“he looks like if a muscle came to life and started talking.” you whisper, and he laughs in agreement. burying your hands into the pockets of his hoodie, you smile. you don’t want to think about your current revelation with gojo right now. instead, you’ll stick with the present. and right now, you like the present.

you just don’t want to think about what this means for your future.

it’s the weekend, and you’re doing some work at the local cafe, gojo-free for once. only god knows what the man is doing at three pm in the afternoon on a saturday. not like you should be thinking about him right now, though. his presence alone has caused you to be behind on your studies, and you need to make sure you catch up.

you have to admit, you were a little unused to the silence. usually, the silence would be filled with gojo’s endless banter with you, as well as his terrible, corny jokes that are so stupid you can’t help but laugh. his seemingly never-ending presence was annoying at first, but now, you’re starting to yearn for his company.

it further fuels the pit of uncertainty in your stomach, and you hate it.

shaking your head with a sigh, you take another bite of your pastry and continue typing up the report on your laptop. the looming thought of this report’s impact on your grade and the need to pass this class helps you forget about satoru for a while. once again, you get lost in your academics.

the ring of the cafe bell breaks you from your trance. it was a natural impulse of yours to glance at everyone who entered the cafe, but once you did this time, you felt your heart drop down to your knees.

it was your ex. 

your ex boyfriend who destroyed the notion of love for you, because he made you feel it for a short time, only to throw it all into a pit of fire and leave you scrambling to find nothing but ashes. 

if you had to find the true roots as to why you’re so afraid to pursue a new relationship–you always find your ex in the center of it. and now, he’s right in front of you. you have to face him again when you refuse to shamefully admit that you’ve barely even healed from the emotional scars that he’d left behind. 

you feel as if an invisible hand has wrapped itself around your throat, blocking your airways and your ability to speak.

out of all the days satoru wasn’t here with you, it had to be this one.

“y/n? is that you, sweetheart?” you wanted to vomit at the way he said your name. he had no right to say it so sweetly, when all he’s ever left behind is venom. 

“i don’t want to talk to you.” you cringe at the way your voice cracks, and you avert your gaze from him.

“please, just hear me out for a minute, baby..” he coos, and you hate the way he talks to you as if you were a child. “i know i fucked up, and i can’t change our past… but i can change our future together. if you take me back, i’ll show you how much i’ve changed-”

you don’t know how many times you’ve heard that stupid line before.

“god, you sound like a broken record with how many times you’ve pulled that bullshit on me.” you spat, loud enough to draw commotion in the cafe. your ex has surprise written all over his face–most likely due to your non-compliance to his words. “what, do you say that shit to all your hoes?”

your ex looks around, shrinking a little when he sees all eyes are on him. “now, now, y/n, no need to be like that-”

“be like that… be like that?! you’re telling me to be civil when you’re the one coming in here wanting me back, spouting some bullshit saying that you’ve changed, when i told you to leave me alone already!” you scream, and you could feel the tears bubble up in your eyes. you look down, so you aren’t able to see how everyone’s staring at you with pity. god, you hate pity. it makes you feel weak and vulnerable. the two emotions you absolutely loathe. “i just want you to leave me alone, god. i hate you, why won’t you just-”

“you fucking bitch-” he makes a move to lunge at you, and you instinctively take a step back, pure fear enveloping your senses.

you never feel the impact, though, as you see your ex being restrained by the cafe worker.

you remember him. the man who took your order earlier. he was an older man with a warm smile on his face, although you noticed how his cheekbones were slightly sunken, and he looked a little overworked. you jokingly quipped earlier that he should get some sleep before thanking him for making your order. he just replied, i get that quite a lot.

the size difference between your ex and the man is enough to discourage him from fighting back. he makes quick work your ex, dragging him out the door while he hysterically screams profanities to you on the way out. you assumed the worker threatened to call the police, because your ex scrambled up from the ground and ran away. you hoped this was the last time you would ever see him again.

“are you okay, ma’am? he didn’t hurt you, did he?”

you didn’t even realize that the worker was back inside the cafe. everyone was gradually returning to their own businesses, with the eerie silence being replaced by casual chatter once more. you also didn’t realize how much your hands were shaking, and you huff out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “y-yeah, i’m alright, and he didn’t hit me. i just… need a minute,”

you decide that you aren’t gonna get anymore work done like this, so you pack your laptop into your bag and slump onto the seat with a sigh. you bury your face into your hands. “is it a long story?”

“oh, don’t even get me started.”

he laughs at that, and you ease up a little. “i told him i’d call the police if i ever see him around here again.”

“that’s good to hear. though i’d prefer if i never see him in my life ever again.”

he hums at your words, and he turns to look out the window. “it’s getting dark out. do you want me to call you a cab?”

“no need, i’ll call my boyf–my friend. i’ll call my friend. he’ll uh, pick me up.” you’re still so shaken up you barely even register what you said to him. your eyes are frantic as you turn your phone on and look for gojo’s name in your contacts. you don’t know why you want him to pick you up out of everybody. you could ask utahime or shoko right now, but you just wanted nothing more but to see gojo.

the bell rings again, and you flinch at the sound. thankfully, it was just another customer. the worker sighs. “well, these orders aren’t going to be done themselves. just wave me over if there are any other problems, okay?” 

you nod absentmindedly, and he turns to leave, but you stop him. “wait, sir, what’s your name?”

“kento nanami.”

“thank you so much, nanami. i appreciate it.” 

“i’m just doing my job.”

“your job is restraining crazy exes of college girls and kicking them out?”

“‘it comes with the job description.” he teases, and you laugh lightheartedly. “and your name is?”

“y/n l/n.”

“anytime, miss l/n. again, just please… call me over if anything happens.”

“will do…” you say, pressing the “call” button on gojo’s contact. the anxiety is hitting you again, and you take a shaky inhale. you’re surprised at how he picks up almost instantly. “hey… satoru? yeah, can you come pick me up, please? i know i don’t normally ask you to do something like this but-”

“did something happen?”

“a lot happened, actually… i’ll text you the address. please, just come soon.”

“of course, y/n.” you could already hear him running out the door, hearing the roar of his car engine coming to life. “i’ll be there as soon as possible.”

he gets to the cafe in five.

you wave goodbye to nanami, thanking him once more as you get in the passenger seat of gojo’s car. 

it’s not your first time inside here, but you still can’t help but admire how… expensive everything looks. or maybe you’re just looking around because you’re stalling, and you have no idea where to begin with satoru. 

however, you notice that he’s not asking you what happened, and he’s not forcing you to explain anything to him. instead, he switches the gear shift out of parking and says, “do you want me to take you home?”

your eyes widen at his words, and you shake your head no profusely. the last thing you want to be is home alone right now, mainly because your ex knows where you live. you know he most likely won’t go that far with you, especially since nanami knocked some sense into him… but the possibilities still scare you. you take a deep breath before saying your next words.

“...can you take me to your house? i-i’m sorry for asking, i just don’t want to be alone right now cause i’m terrified and-” 

“y-yeah. i’ll take you to my house.” he says, and you’ve never seen him so nervous in your life. it almost makes you laugh.

“i’ll explain everything later. i just… wanna be somewhere safe first.” somewhere safe. you find his house as a safe place. gojo doesn’t know how to react. his heart is thumping wildly out of his chest, but he makes sure to put your own comfort before his feelings.

“you don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to.” he says, maintaining his cool by keeping his eyes on the road, one hand on the wheel and the other on the gear shift.

“but i want to, satoru…” you say. you can’t believe you’re doing this again. you’re crossing so many territories that you were so afraid to cross because of your ex. now, you think you aren’t that afraid anymore. not if you have satoru by your side. 

you place one of your cold hands on the gear stick, interlocking it with his. is he… shaking? “thank you for this.”

still. there are so many things you can’t say to him yet. you don’t know when you’ll be able to… or if you’ll ever be able to.

i love you. i love you but i’m too afraid to say it. i just hope that you’ll be able to wait for me.

“god, you’re killin’ me here, y/n.” 

that pit of uncertainty in your stomach has grown so large you feel it's about to consume you whole. you don’t think you mind much, though.

the two of you are lounging at his couch after satoru insisted on telling you to make yourself at home. there’s a movie playing, with neither of you paying attention at all, takeout on the coffee table, two glasses and a bottle of wine after gojo didn’t know what drinks to serve, and freaked out by pulling the first expensive drink out from his parents’ alcohol closet. has he never properly invited someone to his home before?

“so in short, you had a crazy ex who saw you at the coffee shop… and he was begging for you to take him back, and when you went off on him he called you a bitch and tried to hit you…” he recalls, a huge grimace on his face. “tch. the cafe worker shouldn’t have let him go like that.”

“i’m sure he learned not to mess with me after getting humiliated in public.. and nanami did more than enough for me.” you retorted, and he gave you a sour look. 

“oh, so you know the worker’s name now?” he says, and you could feel the tension build up in the air. oh. so he wants to do this with you? “what, is he your knight in shining armor?”

“he looks like he’s in his late thirties, satoru. i’m not into older guys,” you roll your eyes at his absurd questions and add, “what’s it to you anyway?”

“what’s it to me, y/n?” he repeats your words, and you could feel an argument coming, like you already didn’t have an exhaustive one with your ex. “you know how i feel about you-“

“what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” your voice is getting louder, all to hide your fear behind the implication of his words. you distance yourself from him on the couch.. much like how you distance yourself from letting satoru get too close to how you truly feel. “we’re not even together, satoru. you don’t get to control the guys that i talk to- hell, have you even seen yourself?”

you’re rambling, and all you want to do is shut up, but you can’t bring yourself to. “i’ve heard what our school says about you. y-you’re a playboy, right? and you only ever talk to girls because you wanna fuck them. i’m not stupid, satoru. i’m not different from any of them, right? you only chase after me because i’m playing hard to get and that pisses you off-“

“what… what are you even saying, y/n?” he asks, and it stops your rambling for a moment. you don’t know what you’re saying. you’re pouring out all the reasons why you’ve tried to push him away, the reasons why you were so afraid to give your heart to him. but now that you say them out loud, they sound outright stupid. 

“i started coming to class just to talk to you, i memorized your schedule just so i can walk you to class every morning. i buy you all your favorite food and drinks… i had to memorize your favorites too, by the way. and i have shit memory.” he’s screaming at this point, and you’ve never had satoru scream at you. there are unshed tears in his eyes, and it’s all overwhelming to watch this unfold. “and when you called me, i drove as fast as i could to you because you never call like that and i was fuckin’ worried!”

“so let me ask you a question, y/n… would i do all these things for you just because i want you in my bed?! i’d do anything for you, and you know that!” he’s crying. the gojo satoru is crying, and it’s all for a girl. if you told this to someone in your school, they’d call you a shit-faced liar. gojo satoru doesn’t cry for a girl. he makes them cry.

“i’m sorry for being skeptical, satoru! i just can’t help it when there’s so many rumors about you wanting to fuck girls just for the shit of it – and i’m conflicted on whether or not i should believe them because i want you so bad and i’m scared you’ll end up just breaking my heart and i don’t want that to happen again-”

he cuts you off. “you… what?”

you’re confused at why he looks so surprised, but then you backtrack on your words and you gasp. fuck. why did i say that? you cover your mouth and look away from him, refusing to meet his eyes.

those stupid blue eyes that you know you can’t get enough of.

“y/n… can you please say that again? i don’t want to do anything if i didn’t hear you right.” his voice is soft now, and you swear that you’re dreaming. this isn’t real. right? i’m gonna wake up soon. you dig your nails into the palms of your hands, leaving half-moon marks in their wake. it doesn’t work, and you don’t wake up, and you know you have to accept the fact that this is very real and it’s happening.

this is the worst leap of faith you think you’ve ever had to take in your life.

“i want you so fucking bad, satoru. and i’m realizing that you’re not just the stereotypical rich playboy that everyone talks about on campus—you’re a really great guy, and i guess i’m just scared to face that-” you don’t even realize that satoru’s got you cornered on the couch, and you can’t finish your words as he slots his lips against yours. hard. it’s the most passionate kiss you think you’ve ever had in your life, and it’s got your breath taken away in seconds. holy shit.

you quietly moan against his lips as you kiss back, cupping his face with your hands and wiping his tears away. you wish this moment would last forever, but you pull away so you can breathe. you meet gojo’s eyes, and they’re clouded with lust and desire, but you could tell he’s still a little uncertain. “we’ll talk later… just take me to the bedroom already,”

gojo doesn’t need another confirmation from you, and he lifts you up to carry you to his bedroom, practically tripping on his feet the way there.

a few hours later and a noise complaint from the neighbors, it’s safe to say that gojo satoru was the best one you’ve ever had.

“god, i’m never letting you go, baby.”

he’s tracing hearts onto your bare back. it’s littered with bruises and red scratch marks just from a few minutes ago, but you’ve never felt better in your life. you stare at the man who invited himself into your life just from an encounter at a party, and you thank your lucky stars that you agreed to go with utahime that night. “is something wrong? you’re starin’ again.”

“i’m sorry it took me so long to trust you. i’ve just been scared to open up my heart again, especially after him.” you don’t have to name “him” for satoru to understand. 

“i’m sorry too. i just got angry about the rumors and i also disregarded the fact that you’re scared to love again after your ex did all of that shit and-” he pauses, and sighs. “sorry. i’m rambling again.” 

he pulls you into another kiss, and this time, it’s sweeter, lighter, and full of love. “i’m going to show you what it looks like to really be loved, because it’s definitely not the shitty picture that your ex painted in your head. there’s way more to it than that.”

“i love you, y/n.”

“thank you, toru.” you whisper. maybe, one day, you’ll be able to find the courage to say it back. and it’s okay, because gojo is willing to wait an eternity for you. 

he’ll wait an eternity for you to teach you how to love again.

“look at how beautiful you are…” gojo says, appearing out of nowhere as he wraps an arm around your waist. you yelp, staring at your boyfriend through the mirror. he’s wearing a classic black tuxedo, with no doubt it being very expensive. it compliments the glimmering rolex on his wrist, and the thoughts running through your head about him and his outfit sets fire to your stomach.

“look at yourself first, toru… god, we should just stay home,” you tease, turning around to pull him into a deep kiss. it’s a friday, and gojo’s taking you out to attend geto’s party tonight. the two of you are going for several reasons. he wants to introduce you to his bestfriend, since you realized that you’ve never actually formally met geto before. it’ll also be your first formal “couple appearance”, as if gojo being attached to your side all the time doesn’t say enough about the two of you already. 

gojo pulls away, which surprises you. you pout at the expression on his face. “as much as i want to, suguru’s been bugging about you all week. i really do think it’s time for you to meet him,”

“hmph. alright.” 

“i’m tearing that dress off of you the second we get home, though.”

“satoru!”

“what?! not my fault my girl looks so damn hot all the time!”

this night is going amazing.

when satoru walks with you through the front doors, arm wrapped around your waist and the dress you picked out for tonight glimmering, you feel a little shy. the guys all whistle at the two of you, and the girls whisper amongst each other, but you and gojo don’t care. in his eyes, you’re the only girl he sees. the only girl worth being with here. 

“wanna go get drinks?” he asks you, cerulean eyes showing underneath his sunglasses. you nod, walking to the kitchen with him. you’re getting severe deja vu… you can’t believe you met gojo at the last party you were at. and now you’re at another party, with gojo as your date. you scan the crowd for utahime or shoko, wondering what you would say to them if they saw you with the man they specifically told you not to mess with.

it’s alright, though. shoko was wrong about those rumors, and gojo’s proving it to you.

“satoru!” the playful voice greets your boyfriend, and you turn to see geto suguru. you’ve seen him around campus, and he sits somewhere in the back of your chem class. you haven’t really had the opportunity to talk to him, though… and he looks a little intimidating.

“you must be y/n,” he says, offering you a freshly opened smirnoff from the drinks on the countertop. you thank him and grab the drink, taking a swig.

“yup! my lovely girlfriend,” gojo lets go of his arm around your waist to grab a drink. 

“you probably don’t know this, but i’ve been his wingman.” he smiles at gojo, who’s pouting, like he’s preparing himself for what suguru is about to say. “he’s batshit crazy for you, its insane.”

“oh? do tell.”

“when the two of you got together, he left me a voicemail at like… four in the morning? anyway, he was screaming about how he was the happiest guy in the world… or something.”

“that’s because i was!” you’re laughing at how unashamed satoru is about this.

“yeah, yeah, whatever.” geto clicks his tongue, pulling out his phone. “and he’s reposted you on insta to like, every drake song-”

“alright, me and y/n are gonna go dance.” he interrupts suguru, and drags you away from his best friend with a yelp. “nice talkin’ to you, suguru!”

“hey, i wanted to know more!-”

“shh, you don’t need to know about all of that.” the two of you are in the living room, in the midst of all the bodies dancing and grinding against each other. he pulls you close to him, and you feel his hot breath against your neck. “you look so beautiful tonight, y/n.”

“same for you, handsome. let’s dance, shall we?” you wrap your arms around him and just sway to the beat. you’ve never been much of a dancer, but everything feels natural as long as gojo’s with you. 

suddenly, the music changes, and one dance starts playing. you two look at each other, and you both burst out laughing at the same time. “have you reposted me to this song?”

“duh. it’s a classic.”

“can’t disagree with that.” you say, finding yourself grinding against satoru while wizkid’s part plays in the background. it feels like such a perfect night–you’re pulling satoru into a deep kiss, and he shoves his tongue down your throat while he’s leading you to a nearby couch. you’re seated on his lap, mimicking practically every couple in this party tonight. 

suddenly, you pull away, and you whisper, “i need to use the bathroom.” 

satoru smirks at your words, thinking that it’s a hint for something else, and you give him a sour face. “want me to join you-”

you hit his chest playfully. “that’s not code for anything, you perv. i actually need to piss.” 

he’s pouting at your words, but he lets you off his lap anyway, and holds your drink for the time being. “it’s at the second door in the hall to your right. be quick, please.”

“no duh. i’ve got a cute date to come back to,” you say, walking away and traversing all of the bodies that smell like sweat and alcohol. you’re a little unused to this environment, but it’s alright. you fix up your makeup in the bathroom and freshen up a little, walking back to the living room to find satoru again. 

you wish you never did.

you were gone for four minutes. five minutes max. you come back to satoru, and your breath hitches at the sight.

on his lap was a random chick that looked like every other girl at this party. she was practically naked, since her outfit didn’t do much to cover her skin at all.

fuck.

you remember the first time you saw gojo at the last party you went to. the sight wasn’t that different compared to the one now. there were girls all over him, all fighting for his attention. and yet, it seemed that night, his attention was focused solely on you.

what bullshit that was.

your eyes are blurry, and the music is muffled in your ears. white noise fills your senses, and all you want to do right now is run.

so you do.

you run, not caring if gojo saw you at all or not. you run out of the party, eternally grateful that you didn’t pick out heels for tonight and settled for much simpler shoes. you run, despite the fact that you drew geto’s attention. you were already out the door before he could ask what was wrong. you run, just wanting to get away from everyone and everything. you run with no particular destination in mind. you stop running when you almost get run over on a red light, the car honking at you–screaming profanities as it drives by. it breaks you from your trance, and you sit on the curb of the sidewalk, letting all of your tears out on what was supposed to be a perfect night.

of course gojo didn’t think that you were different. you were just like every other girl to him.

stupid. stupid. stupid. you’ve never felt so stupid in your life.

when geto sees you running out the door with unshed tears in your eyes, he immediately panics. what the hell happened?

he goes through every room of the house, trying to find gojo, when he hears a bunch of commotion in the living room. he runs there, pushing past everyone, only to find a total disaster inside.

he sees gojo screaming at a girl dressed like a stripper, who was on the ground with tears in her eyes. satoru looks like he’s about to pop a blood vessel with how pissed he looks. there’s a crowd forming at this point, and geto knows he needs to intervene, so he drags his bestfriend away, who looks so distraught that geto could just wonder what the fuck happened.

they’re outside now, and its significantly a lot more quiet out here compared to all of the chaos inside. all the noise is coming from gojo—who won’t stop crying, and geto has no idea what to do or where to even begin. “fuck!”

“dude, what the fuck happened!?” satoru looks like he’s feeling every emotion at once. he looks pissed, pissed enough to punch a wall, and geto’s a little afraid that gojo might actually do that–or worst-case scenario, punch him. he’s crying, and geto hasn’t seen gojo cry ever since he fell off a swing in pre-k, so what happened must be really fucking serious.

“i don’t KNOW what happened, goddamnit! y/n went to use the bathroom and some slu- some girl came up to me and threw herself on my fucking lap! i was gonna tell her to fuck off but y/n saw before i was able to and now she’s gone and she probably thinks that i’m just some cheater when i’ve worked so hard to get her to trust me and-FUCK!”

he stops, trying to calm down a little, and gojo takes the shakiest breath he thinks he’s ever taken in his life. the red in his vision starts to fade, but he still feels helpless. “i just don’t know what to fucking do, suguru.” 

“i just saw y/n run out of my house a few minutes ago.” he says with a grimace, and he’s trying to figure out what to tell his bestfriend. “i’ve never seen you like this over a girl before. holy shit, you really love her, do you?”

geto thinks that gojo’s bloodshot eyes, the brutal names that he called that girl at the party, and the tears he’s shed for you are already an answer.

“this is your last chance to prove it to her, satoru.” geto fumbles through his pockets and hands him the keys to his challenger. gojo snatches them, hearing the car engine rumbling itself to life. the white-haired man thanks his best friend as he steps into the drivers’ side, with geto reassuring him, ‘ill deal with the chaos inside, you go ahead and explain yourself to your girlfriend’.

gojo swears that he’s never driven so fast in his whole life.

part 2 :)

[suga-kookiemonster]

satisfy 06

summary⇢ “listen,” taehyung says, eyes wide and eager as he smiles at you. “i figure we can just help each other out. i scratch your back, you scratch mine.” but when you find yourself suddenly in need of a massive favor, exactly how much scratching are you willing to do? pairing⇢ seokjin/reader, namjoon/reader, taehyung/reader, …..jimin/reader word count⇢ 4.8k genre⇢ smut | escort!au | ceo!au (kinda) warnings⇢ none, really. just a few suggestive memories and oc having a crisis 👀 a/n⇢ and now, my dear friends, we finally make it to the epilogue! 🥹 thank you to everyone who has stuck with this fic over the years, and i'm extra grateful to everyone who has dropped in my inbox at any point to scream their feelings about it to me--as well as everyone who has enjoyed it enough to reblog and share! 💜💜 you guys are the ones who really keep me coming back to share my writing on this hellsite, and i truly, truly appreciate you for helping keep fandom fun and alive. i hope you've enjoyed this ride as much as i have enjoyed taking you on it! 🥰😈 mood for this chapter is this song~ thanks again, everyone! 💜

chapters⇢ previous | series masterlist

Just as they were scheduled to, your employers jetted off overseas, leaving you to your own devices for the next three weeks. You weren’t going to lie—it felt bizarre for your calendar to be so open after months of near bursting due to constant activity. But honestly? It was truly refreshing to suddenly have so much downtime. And after your last Kim encounter, you definitely felt your break was well-deserved.   

So, you used the sudden breathing room to catch up on other parts of your life that had been suffering. The next few days were spent burrowed beneath the covers and gloriously unconscious, your truly exhausted body ensuring sleep to be your first priority. Initiating the wildest sexual encounter you had ever had—and probably would ever have—on a Thursday meant that you luckily only had to miss one lecture, and you happily did so, knowing the slides would be online for you to look over later. And though you weren’t asleep the entire weekend, even when you were awake, you didn’t part with the comfort of your bed for long—eating takeout in it and watching true crime documentaries in it and actively ignoring the way your skin tingled when your mind strayed to the other activities you had done in it not too long prior. 

(And if you were being honest, it was a little hard to not linger on what you had done. On what you so easily allowed the Kims to do.) 

When you did allow yourself to linger on it, it almost felt like a fever dream. Some abstract, depraved fantasy that your overactive mind had cooked up. But the ache in your muscles, the tenderness of your pussy—these were tangible proof that it had all been real. That the flashes of hot tongues and gasping breaths and shivering pleasure that kept creeping back, no matter how you tried to distract yourself, were memories, not figments of your imagination. You knew you should probably feel some sort of shame over it, but honestly? Other than astonishment that this was what your life had become, other than the expected fatigue—

You only felt satisfied.

Satisfied that your own needs had been spectacularly met, of course, but also with the knowledge that your employers were even more satiated than you, and that you had done that. You couldn’t help but glow with a sense of pride when your doorbell rang one afternoon and you were handed a gorgeous flower arrangement, the corresponding card detailing that the unexpected, expensive gift was from Kim Seokjin. Months ago, you probably would have felt mortified to receive them—especially with the intimate knowledge of what exactly he was thanking you for—but you had earned those flowers, dammit! Earned that, as well as the absurd amount of money Namjoon unceremoniously wired you in between the texts he sent you every few days to check on you. 

You always gave your all to whatever you set out to do, and this was no different. You were a hard worker, period. No one could fault you for being pleased with the successful results of your efforts.     

So yes, you spent those next few days relaxing and recuperating and feeling rewarded. And when you finally felt enough like a human to leave your nest of pillows and blankets, you used your newfound freedom from distractions to catch up on other parts of your life you had been inadvertently ignoring—the first being your schoolwork, and the second, Jimin. 

You did a double-take when your text thread showed that the last time you had messaged him had been a week and a half ago, unbelieving. Though busy, the two of you never went that long without at least checking in, and for him to not reach out either? You couldn’t help but worry that maybe he had forgotten about you. Found someone much more interesting, someone prettier and much more available to be showered with his attention than you. 

But luckily, your slow spiraling was immediately halted when the timid Hey you sent him resulted in his bubbly, smiley face-filled reply barely a second later. 

And so now, there you were, meeting him in person for the first time in over a month.

“Sorry I’m late,” you told him as you approached the table, slightly out of breath from your hustle there. “Traffic was crazy and the Uber driver seemed afraid of driving, or something? Like, this probably isn’t the job for you if driving in the city makes you that nervous.” Because yes, when Jimin asked if you could meet him for dinner, you were surprised when he chose a spot downtown. And you were even more surprised when you finally arrived and realized that said restaurant was apparently an upscale hotspot, especially considering the meals you usually shared together consisted of nothing fancier than takeout or something you could grab from the convenience store.

He immediately stood up to wrap you in his arms, giving you a comforting squeeze that reflexively had you melting into the warmth of him before he let go. God, he smelled good. “Glad you made it in one piece,” came his amused reply, eyes twinkling as he reached over and politely pulled your chair out for you.  

You did your best to tamp down the familiar delighted butterflies that always sprung up within you when you were near him. There was something more pressing that needed to be addressed. “Jimin,” you hissed out the corner of your mouth, warily looking around. “You didn’t tell me this restaurant was so nice! I would’ve dressed up more.” Because as it was, your simple cocktail dress wasn’t really cutting it. The tables had cloth tablecloths that no doubt were removed and washed between each seating. There were multiple chandeliers sparkling from the ceiling, for fuck’s sake! Jimin had told you to wear something more on the nicer side, but he never told you this nice, and you could tell immediately that you were underdressed. You had been so excited to see him again that you just got in the car without even bothering to google the place first. 

Jimin waved a dismissive hand, visibly unbothered as he retook his own seat. For his part, he had actually taken the time to throw on a rather smart blazer over his dress shirt and slacks, his hair carefully styled and slicked back. “You look beautiful, as you always do.”

Your eyes shifted to the table, a shy but pleased smile inching across your lips. “Thank you.”

“Thank you for meeting me. I was worried you’d forgotten about me.”

You couldn’t help the incredulous snort that escaped you. “Me forget about you? No, of course not, Jiminie. I’m sorry for dropping off the face of the earth—I’ve just been so busy—”

Jimin’s raised hand halted your rambling, the gentle crinkle of his eyes calming your frazzled nerves. “Don’t worry,” he smiled. “I totally get it—I was just teasing. I could tell you had a lot going on, and so I just didn’t want to bother you. You have nothing to be sorry for.” 

Didn’t you, though? Would he feel the same way if he knew just what had been taking up all your time? You reflexively swallowed, sifting uncomfortably in your seat. “Yeah, school has been running me ragged.” And it’s not a lie. Just not the full truth.

“No kidding. I think I got seven hours of sleep total last week, so like I said, I totally get it.” Before it even registered that he was reaching for you, his hand was already enveloping yours, thumb rubbing soothing circles into your palm. “I’m just happy we have the chance to get together now. I missed you.” 

You felt yourself immediately soften into putty at his admission. “I’ve missed you too, Jimin,” came your soft reply. Dazedly, you tried your best not to visibly show how much his unexpected touch was making your heartbeat skyrocket, but from the pleased curl of his lips, you weren’t entirely sure you were successful. 

It didn’t matter, because just as easily as he had reached into your space, he was now letting go, pulling his appendage back to his side of the table to pick up his menu.  

As if waiting for a lull in your conversation, the waiter chose that moment to approach your table. “Welcome to Serendipity. Have the two of you dined with us before?”

“I haven’t,” Jimin replied, expectantly looking your way for your response and finding you scrabbling for your menu instead.

“Me neither,” you squeaked, flustered that you had been too busy making heart eyes at Jimin to even give it a cursory browse. “Is there anything you recommend?”

The waiter reached over a little to direct you a slip of paper on your table that had gone unnoticed until this moment. “You can find our current specials here—I’m a big fan of the salmon, but everything on there is excellent. And we’re actually currently running a dinner for two special, that’s been really popular. One appetizer to share, two entrées, and a dessert to share.”

Yes, it didn’t surprise you that that would be popular—along with how nice the restaurant was, you had noticed immediately when walking in that it was filled with couples who were clearly having romantic nights out.

“I think we’re still deciding on food.” Jimin’s voice cut through your thoughts. “But can we please see a wine list?”

Wine? Your brow raised, not opposed, but surprised. In all the time you’ve known each other, alcohol has certainly never been a stranger—you’ve had late night study sessions together, accompanied by chicken and beer; you’ve gotten shitfaced together at bars after particularly rough exams. But something about this felt…different. In this restaurant, much fancier than you anticipated, surrounded by couples, sitting across a candlelit table from where Jimin was poring over a wine selection that you knew had to be really expensive—this was undoubtedly more intimate.  

You idly cleared your throat, not daring to linger too long on the dots your mind couldn’t help but connect. Because it obviously couldn’t be that. It had to be a coincidence.

“_____,” Jimin said, the slight raise in his voice cluing you in that this wasn’t the first time he had tried to get your attention. “How does this one sound?” 

You blinked our of your thoughts, finding both him and the waiter looking at you expectantly. “Whatever you choose is fine!” you croaked, slapping on a smile for good measure.    

“Excellent choice. I’ll bring it right out,” the waiter said with an affirmative tilt of his head, and then the two of you were alone again. 

It was quiet for a bit while you both properly perused your menus, though from the corner of your eye, the curious glances Jimin was sending you didn’t escape your notice. You were acting weird. You were acting weird and he could clearly tell you were acting weird, but ever since you noticed the restaurant’s romantic atmosphere, you couldn’t help it.

“These prices are kinda wild, huh?” came your attempt at normal conversation.

Jimin took it in stride, lips curling in amusement. “Yeah, they’re definitely overcharging for those stuffed mushrooms. But don’t worry about it—I invited you out, so this is my treat.”

You shook your head immediately. “No, no, I can’t let you do that! I was just making a comment. Don’t worry, I have enough money to pay.”

He let out a bemused sigh, shaking his head, and if you didn’t happen to be looking directly at him, you might have missed him say under his breath, “You’re not gonna make this date easy for me, huh?”

You immediately choked on your own spit, eyes bugging at what you thought you heard. “D-Date?” you repeated incredulously.

Jimin’s spine went stiff, eyes widening as if he hadn’t meant to say that out loud. You could only watch in amazement as it was his turn to look shy, pointedly averting his gaze to his menu and letting out a chuckle that sounded suspiciously nervous to your bemused ears. When you continued to gape at him, waiting for some sort of explanation, he was forced to continue.

“Yeah,” he hedged cautiously. “That’s what I’d hoped. Would that be a bad thing?”

You couldn’t answer right away, staring him down like he had grown two heads and wondering when he was going to burst out laughing with a Gotcha! You should have seen your face.  

Always one for great timing, the waiter chose that moment to come back with your wine, taking his sweet time pouring it into each of your glasses and cheerfully chatting about the region it came from. You didn’t hear a single word, too focused on the way Jimin studiously avoided your stare, on the noticeable flush that had risen up his neck and was fanning across his cheeks. It was only after you apologetically asked for more time for your meal orders—your mind too frazzled to pick something on the spot—that he left again. Jimin took a long swig from his wineglass.

“Sorry,” he murmured, still not looking at you. “I probably should have let you know my intention beforehand, but I was nervous you wouldn’t come, or I’d chicken out of doing it, or—”

“Your intention?” you parroted dazedly. 

Another generous swallow of wine, the liquid courage coaxing his eyes to meet yours. “I wanted to take you out somewhere really nice,” he admitted. “Show you a good time and work up the nerve to properly ask you out again.”

“On a. Date?” Your lashes fluttered, an involuntary response to your brain short-circuiting. “With me.”

His lips twitched. “Yes, with you, silly.”

“Why?”

“You’re really going to make me say it? Before our food gets here?” He was fiddling with his napkin, but despite his clear nervousness, his gaze was now unwavering and his voice was clear. “Because I like you, _____. I have for a long time.”

These were words that you had only heard him whisper in your wildest dreams, when your subconscious thoughts were no longer being restrained by your common sense. And as such, you could only gape at him, sure you were about to wake up any second.

Your unintentional silence triggered Jimin’s tongue into overdrive, and you could only struggle to make sense of his rambling as he proceeded to tell you how much your friendship meant to him and how he was afraid confessing how he felt would affect it, but he just couldn’t take it anymore. How his feelings for you were growing by the day, and the recent time spent away from you was maddening and only confirmed to him how much he wanted to be with you. And so he felt he had to at least put it out there and try.

And the longer he talked, the more your eyes welled up with horrified tears, panic gripping you by the throat and squeezing, tight, tight.

This was nothing short of a nightmare. 

You would have never agreed to your arrangement with the Kims if you had thought in a million years Jimin would have ever been a serious option for you. 

Absolutely not. You would have swallowed your pride, maybe taken that loan from Tae instead. Would have also taken as many odd jobs as you could to pay him back, would have forgone sleep completely and struggled ten times more than you were now just so you could pay off your debts. Hell, you would have even just fucking dropped out. Would have taken the semester off and attempted to come back whenever you could scrounge up the appropriate funds. 

But never, never ever, would you have done what you had done. 

Because now, not only were you contractually unable to be with the man you’ve—in an attempt at self-preservation—refused to acknowledge you were in love with, but even if you found some legal way to quit now…there was zero chance Jimin would still want you when he knew. Less than zero. And you couldn’t blame him for that, because who would?

Beyond overwhelmed, you did the only sensible thing you could in that moment—you burst into tears.

Your sudden sniveling immediately halted Jimin’s rambling, eyes wide in alarm and looking every bit as distressed as you. “Ah—don’t cry!” He leaned over the table, cradling your face in his hands and swiping your tears with his thumbs. “You don’t have to feel the same way, _____. I’ll get over it, please don’t cry—”

“No,” you blubbered, beyond miserable. He couldn’t be more wrong. “I do! Jimin, I feel exactly the same way, I just…” Your eyes welled up anew, unable to tell him the truth. “I c-can’t.” 

“You can’t?” he repeated, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. His eyes roved your face for any possible answers, nibbling slightly on his bottom lip in thought. “…Is this…” His thumbs were still caressing your cheeks, gaze gentle and open as he quickly glanced around to see if anyone was paying the two of you any attention. When it was clear no one was giving your table more than a few curious glances, he said quieter, ��…Is this about the arrangement you have with Tae?”

Everything froze. Your eyes locked, Jimin patiently waiting for your reply. Hysteria trickled through your veins, held only a bay by the disbelief slamming into you harder than a freight train. “W-What arrangement?” you blurted reflexively, a touch too loudly to be believable. 

It was Jimin’s turn be caught off guard, hands slowly dropping from your face and returning to his side of the table, though he was still leaned over it so he could still whisper to you, “You know.” He looked at you pointedly, mouth downturning a bit in his confusion. “With him and his brothers. The arrangement.” 

Jesus Christ, this was not happening. There was no way that this was actually happening to you. There was no way that the man who unknowingly held your heart in the palm of his hand was fully aware that you were fucking his best friend for money. Deny, deny! “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

He didn’t say anything for a few moments, still visibly puzzled. But the two of you only sat in an awkward silence for a few more moments before he snapped his fingers, a light bulb clearly going off. “Ah! You can’t say anything because you signed an NDA, right?” 

You swallowed thickly, unable do anything more in that very moment than stupidly stare at him like a deer in the headlights. 

“I’m sorry, that was stupid of me,” Jimin chuckled, smacking his forehead for good measure. “I don’t know why I didn’t realize that sooner. Obviously you’re under NDA.” 

You weren’t sure how to respond to that. Weren’t sure from the gentle smile he was now sending you if he even expected a response from you. Luckily, Jimin kept talking. 

“But it’s okay—I already know everything, so you don’t have to hide it,” he reassured you. You didn’t feel assured. You felt like you were in the Twilight Zone. “Taehyung told me about your agreement when you started it months ago.”

If you were flustered before, that was nothing on what you were feeling now. Now, half-thoughts were ricocheting across your brain too quickly for you to grasp anything of substance but your internal screeching. “You know everything?” you repeated incredulously. This time it was you who leaned over the table, meeting him in the middle. “Taehyung told you?!”

“Of course he did!” Color rebloomed across his cheeks, but he didn’t shy away from the bewildered stare down you were giving him. “He’s my best friend and he wanted to make sure he wouldn’t be stepping on any toes. He…knows how I feel about you.” When you only continued to stare at him, he nervously added, “Who do you think got me the reservation for this place to begin with? The waitlist is literally a year out.”

“I’m sorry, I just—” You pulled back so you could reach for your wineglass, allowing yourself a few healthy sips to give your mouth something to do other than flap about like an idiot while you stalled. Jimin didn’t call you out on it, just waited patiently and topped off your glass when you set it back down again. 

You took a few steadying breaths, ultimately choosing to lean back closer to Jimin. To the casual onlooker, the two of you were just another couple making heart eyes over a romantic dinner. And considering the rather lewd and illegal turn your conversation had just taken in this very public place, that only worked in your favor. “Let me get this straight,” you whispered, carefully choosing your words in case you still managed to garner an unwanted audience. “Taehyung told you the deal he has with me. Months ago.” Jimin nodded. “And you’ve known this entire time about our…arrangement, but never told me you knew.”

“I swear I didn’t at all mean to keep that a secret,” he murmured, expression contrite. “I just didn’t want to make you uncomfortable or embarrass you or anything like that, so I’ve just been waiting on you to bring it up at your own pace. But I didn’t take into account that you would never bring it up because you would be under NDA, which, again, now that I say it out loud was an extremely stupid assumption of me not to make. I’m sorry.”

“So. You have feelings for me,” you reiterated, ignoring the delighted shiver that raced up your spine at the words. You had to be sure. “But it didn’t bother you that your best friend…propositioned me? You have no problem with me being…involved with him and his brothers?”

“You were caught between a rock and a hard place and the grind never stops. You know I know that better than anybody,” he replied with a shrug. He swallowed, discreetly ensuring no one was paying the two of you any attention before he added, “You think you’re the only one who’s sucked dick for money?”

Your eyes widened, jaw dropping a little before you could catch it. Was he…implying what you thought he was implying? There was no way. You had to be reading into it. 

But ultimately, all of this was irrelevant. When the ghost of Seokjin’s mouth on you came to you unbidden—the phantom weight of Taehyung’s body, the haunting reprimand of Namjoon’s stern hand—

You shook your head, unsuccessfully dispelling those unwanted, lingering thoughts. Your gaze skirted to the table, despondent and embarrassed as you finally set free your hushed admission. “Jimin, I’ve done more than suck dick for my money.” 

There was a pause, an agonizing one that felt like an eternity, and then he was lifting your chin with a finger and guiding you to meet his eyes.

“Again.” He reached for your hands, thumb tracing patterns over your knuckles. His smile was a soft secret. “You think you’re the only one?” 

He held your gaze, not looking away even though your mouth just flapped uselessly as you struggled to regain your bearings. So he did mean—

“Does knowing that bother you?” Jimin asked quietly, expression now carefully neutral. Seriously asking, and giving you the proper space to process and answer. “Does it change anything?”

“No.” The truth, though delayed, left you as easily as a breath. He was still Jimin. “Of course not.”

Jimin’s resulting grin turned his eyes into crescents. “Soooo…what I’m hearing is that we’re clearly on the same page and are both Team Fuck Bitches, Get Money.” 

Boy, did you wish you could smile back. Wish you could share in his obvious relief. But while you assumed his exploits were in the past, the same couldn’t be said for you, who was actively under contract. “Jimin, I’m still…employed,” you couldn’t help but point out. “And still will be for a while. That really doesn’t bother you?”

“It really doesn’t,” he insisted. But your continued hesitance had him pulling back from you, hands busying themselves with reaching for his wineglass as he carefully asked, “Should it? Is there something else I should know?” A couple sips of wine to steel himself before a  cautious, “Do you have feelings for any of them?”

“No!” you blurted. Despite the amount of time and intimacy you had been spending with the Kims, romantic feelings had never even crossed your mind. Your pussy certainly felt some things when she was getting some action, but your heart had never gotten involved. Your heart was too busy crowding in your throat at that very moment, threatening to fling itself at the man in front of you.

Jimin took your sincerity for what it was, a pleased twist to his lips. “Then it’s all fine with me. And again, Tae’s been aware from the beginning that I’ve been intending to ask you out, so that expectation has been there since the beginning. All three of them agreed to the deal knowing that I might be in the picture if I ever decided to put my big boy pants on and tell you how I feel. They’ve been expecting it, so they’re cool with it.”

“They’re cool with it,” you parroted blankly, completely flabbergasted. This was absolutely not how you foresaw this night going, and you never would have thought your life would ever take a turn like this in a million years. “They’re cool with it, and so are you?”

“I don’t mind sharing your time,” he shrugged. “So long as I’m not sharing you.”

“And you don’t see that as the same thing in this…situation?” you asked incredulously. “That doesn’t seem fair.”

Jimin puffed out an amused laugh. “Wow, you really are trying to talk me out of this, huh?”

You waved your hands. “Absolutely not, that is the last thing I want! I just. I come with a lot of baggage, and I don’t want any of it to come as a surprise. As busy as I’ve been the last couple weeks? That’s becoming a reoccurring normal. And Jimin, I just feel really shitty.” You swallowed. “Because I can’t promise you everything that you deserve to be promised right now.”

Jimin’s face softened as he listened to you, visibly much more comfortable now that you had successfully reassured him just how badly you wanted this. And oh, did you want it. You weren’t sure how this could ever work, but god did you want it to.

“Not fair,” he repeated under his breath, eyes glazed over in thought. “Hmmm.” 

“Is there anything I could do?” you hedged. You weren’t really sure what that could possibly be, considering the ironclad situation you were in. But now that you had been given a glimmer of your heart’s desire, you couldn’t let it fade away. Not if you could help it.  

His reply wasn’t immediate, still lost in thought. But when his eyes finally refocused on you, smoldering and intense, you couldn’t help the way your breath caught in response, the way your heart quickened. “Here’s an idea of what we can do to make it fair. What if you continue to work for them, just as you are now. And then…” 

He was thoughtlessly swirling his wineglass, momentum pulling the ruby liquid into slow, circling waves that would be rather hypnotizing if you weren’t already caught in the snare of his gaze. When he leaned across the table again, the way you followed suit was as easy as breathing. A lovesick sailor willingly lured to possible danger by a siren’s song. “Whatever you do for them, you do for me. How does that sound?” 

You let out a soft breath, just the thought of it immediately electrifying your every atom. Sparks danced excitedly beneath your skin, his soft, sultry tone curling your toes in their shoes. 

“Fair.”

His Adam’s apple dipped excitedly, lips parting.

“So sorry to interrupt,” someone suddenly said from beside you. It was the waiter again. You had completely forgotten about him. Completely forgotten everything other than the restless tap of Jimin’s fingers against the table. “I just wanted to check in to see if you were ready to order?” 

“Yes, I think so.” You didn’t look away from Jimin—still hadn’t even glanced at the menu. Your tongue swiped over your lips, and his gaze darkened in response. 

“But I think we’d like it to go.”

chapters⇢ previous | series masterlist

[toplines]

FOR THE LOVE OF GOD PLEASE STOP REPOSTING GIFS.

“bu…bubu- but they’re just wittle pixels and digital images rwight 🥺” no. we spend hours on gifs or even one singular gif to make edits for FREE on tumblr dot com. name a person who asked us to do this. no one!! exactly!! we make gifs bc its enjoyable and fun but people like reposters suck the fun out of it!!! and do NOT go and tell us that “gifs aren’t that hard to make” baby girl what do u think we do? go online and search for a video downloader and download it at like a crappy 720p and go to like literal ezgif dot com and all the gifs just MAGICALLY have their effects, typography, colouring, blending, animation, quality all up and ready? why dont u try and make a gif. hm.

and also, @ all of you “gif collectors” or some fanfic writers. lemme tell u a secret. an itty bitty secret. did u know… theres this really cool thing called PROPERLY CREDITING? im not talking about a stupid “credits to the owners” no. it isn’t that hard to properly source the creators or accounts.

that wasn’t so hard, hm?

also oh my god, do NOT go around saying you made these gifs when it is so obvious you didn’t. no bff, it isn’t a coincidence we have the same sharpening AND colouring settings.

and hey, i’ll stop my angry typing for a minute and just say that if you wanna learn how to make gifs there are plenty of amazing accounts and tutorials that are incredibly detailed. here are a few i recommend:

how to: make high quality gifs by sith-maul

giffing 101 by cillianmurphy

giffing and colouring tutorial by sashafierce

how to fix and avoid orangewashing characters by maxchapman

how to fix and avoid white/pink/yellowwashing by jeonwonwoo

how to: colouring east & southeast asians by blueshelp

pastel gifs: a tutorial by completeresources

how to fix and avoid whitewashing in pastel gifs by fadenet

and for those who don’t want to pay/ t*rr*nt photoshop:

free giffing tutorial by ashleysolsen

photopea gif tutorial by lacebird

and @usergif has a bunch of directories and navigation for tutorials and inspiration!

again, there are so many useful tutorials if you’d just look.

i know this probably won’t stop all reposters (unfortunately) but i hope those reposters that are reading this realise how messed up stealing gifs are. it isn’t funny or cool to see gifs that you’ve spent so much time on only to be reposted here or on other sites without credit or being claimed as someone elses.

we’re just asking for a proper credit on your post or maybe even stop reposting in whole. im sure you had good intentions in making those posts, but you have to understand how much it hurts. at this point, we have to put our watermarks in the middle of our gifs to avoid people cropping them out.

and please, PLEASE reblog edits. you have no idea how diminishing it is to see such a crappy like to reblog ratio. remember this hellsite has such a crappy algorithm so reblogging is essentially one of the only ways to give posts more traction

AGAIN. dont repost gifs. dont steal gifs without credit. dont belittle gifmakers. just stop being so disrespectful and rude and have a brain for once. thank you for reading.

edit: ive noticed ppl asking why i kinda like insulted those who use 720p and ezgif, im really sorry if i made it sound like a bad thing !! i was just very angry writing this aaaadjskdks gifmaking, HQ or not is valid and nobody deserves to get their creations stolen !

[all-risejd]

A New Judgment Chapter 2: Two Offers and a Smack (Poly Judgment Day Fic)

Written by Scarletxraine who can’t seem to remember to post to this godforsaken hellsite so has me post here for your enjoyment!

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6. Part 7.

The men of the Judgement Day share a confused look. "Well, that makes things more interesting." Damien comments once Triple H and Nessa were gone.

"Dom, did you know she was going to be here?" Finn asks, stepping over to Dominik and helping him off the exam bed. Dominik doesn't answer, just looks down at his hand that is clasping the bracelet.

"Dom are you ok man?" Damien asks, starting to worry about his young partner. "Hey what's going on in your head..." He messes with Dominik's hair.

"I gave her this on our anniversary last year. It was tantamount to a proposal how much it meant that I gave it to her." "What do you mean? You broke off an engagement to join us?" Finn asks confused and ready to slap the young man upside the head.

"Not exactly. My grandmother wanted me to give it to the woman I wanted to marry, it wasn't a proposal but more of an intent to propose," He explains "Ow! What the fuck man!" His hand goes to his head that Finn just slapped.

"She seems damn near perfect why would you leave her? You know you could have just joined us as a teammate and not romantic partner, or you both could have joined as our partners?" Damien chides.

"My dad got in my head talking about how mom suffered, and I remembered him never being there for major moments but bringing me in for shock factor when it suited him. I was never around, and I didn't want her to suffer like that and have to see a story of me and someone else. I ended it to protect her, she deserves better than what I can give. Plus, I don't know if she would be ok with that. She gets jealous and territorial." Dominik shrugs.

"Let me get this right," Finn starts and takes a breath, "The girl you apparently wanted to marry and still apparently want to, who is in healthcare like your mum and understands and supports you unconditionally... You break up with her to protect her feelings and in the process break her heart and she still loves and supports you." Finn slaps him upside the head again. "You are a fucking idiot you know that Dom, you fucked up big time."

"Yeah, and I want to fix it at least be friends with her. I want her in my life as selfish as that sounds..." Dominik looks at his partners like a kicked puppy.

"Well, we were texting Mami and agreed that if she wants to join our relationship, she can, we just have to negotiate. If that is something you want of course it has to be a unanimous decision. Or you can get with her again and we all just remain friends too." Damien offers knowing what Dominik's answer will be.

"I don't want to leave you guys either, I don't know." Dom almost whines.

"Well going off her response when we told her she seems receptive enough to maybe broach the subject if you make things right with her." Finn analyzes the conversation from earlier as they head to their locker room.

"We can help, you are not in this alone." Damien offers and Dominik smiles and nods in agreement.

"Right so here is what we will do..." Finn starts.

Nessa and Triple H only walk for a few minutes until they reach his office. He holds the door open for her and holds out a chair for her before he goes and sits behind his desk. A thick stack of papers conspicuously sitting in front of him. "Without realizing it you cut some excellent promos. You made people conflicted about the match and got people on your side." He explains and shows her tweets of people supporting her and the hashtag #justicefornessa trending.

"To be honest I didn't even want to come but Mr. Gutierrez insisted, begged even and to be honest I am hurt about why he did it." Nessa eyes the stack of papers.

"To be honest with you I knew he was bringing you and he worked some things out. He wants to help his son and you. Even with the betrayal he still loves him. He didn't mean to hurt you or really manipulate him." He looks at her sympathetic. "Rey wants to help Dominik, in both his personal life and his career and he asked me to give you a job. It was brought to my attention that you applied to be part of our medical not long after Dominik joined the company. I would like to extend a formal offer. It would be a dual contract. Less than normal talent but more than traditional medical and probably more than you make now." He smiles proud that they came up with this plan.

Nessa looks confused but not surprised, "What do you mean sir?"

"You are a nurse, right?" He asks.

"Yeah, a charge nurse on the Peds Unit."

"Well, we want you to be part of our medical team of doctors and nurses that travel alongside the talent and shows both taped and un-taped. And to be a talent, part of the story and potentially getting physically involved with a potential of matches in the future if both parties agree." He explains and she is intrigued.

"I can't just up and leave my job, I'm under contract and don't want to risk the children's lives." She explains.

"We can buy out your contract, we contacted the facility where you work to put a plan in place only if you agree so there is coverage on short notice." He doesn't even look sheepish.

"So, you and Rey planned this? Why?" She levels a soft glare at him.

"Rey thinks you both can get closure or back together if you had a chance to talk and wants to make sure both of you are happy and taken care of as I said, even though Dom has a grudge against his dad at the moment. Made the story that much easier since it is true." He gives a sheepish smile.

"I can't make any promises, but I'll look over the contract and have my lawyer do the same. When would you like an answer by?" Is her response as she holds out her hands for the stack of papers.

"We would like an answer by Wednesday so we can bring you on at Smackdown and get you some training, which you will continue with your team and an assigned trainer, and safety tests if you are ok getting physical." He answers leaning back in his chair.

"You also have some control over what direction your story goes with them, we are thinking a triangle between you Dom, and Rhea or a "relationship" between you and Damien going by how you two reacted to each other after the match." He adds on.

"What about their true dynamic?" She asks trying.

"We are unsure about unveiling that to the public, they barely accept LGBTQ people and subtext, we don't know how they would handle that." He shrugs, at least honest.

"It would be an interesting thing to explore and explains their dynamic better." She offers and thinking more to herself.

"That is true and something we might explore if the opportunity presents itself. I do hope you decide to join us, Miss Klein." He stands up offering his hand to shake again.

"Thank you for the offer, sir, and please call me Nessa." She gets up and shakes his hand.

"Then call me Paul," He answers, adding, "I look forward to your answer either way Wednesday." He gestures to the door his assistant standing there.

"Rhea wanted to see me, could I go talk to her before I leave?" She stops at the door and asks.

"Yeah, Heather, please show her where Rhea is." He orders, and Heather nods and leads the way. Once there she knocks on the pole before pulling the curtain aside revealing Rhea stretching. She sees Nessa enter and walks over, placing her arm around Nessa's shoulders.

"Finally, I was beginning to think you left mini-me."

"I was going to. Just because I am happy, he has you doesn't mean I want to see it." She shrugs out of Rhea's arm not wanting to be caught in a compromising position in case anyone comes in.

"What's that you got there luv?" Rhea gestures to the stack of papers in Nessa's hand. Nessa looks down and hugs it to her chest.

"Oh, uh nothing to worry about. You wanted to talk to me?"

"Yes doll, come sit let's talk before the boys join us and I have to go to my match." Rhea gestures to the couch. "I wanted to make sure to tell you Dominik never cheated on you. He started as just a wrestling partner. He didn't join our romantic dynamic until weeks after he left you. We even gave him the option of bringing you in on the dynamic if you consented. I don't want you to think he cheated on you." Rhea explains and puts a comforting hand on Nessa's thigh, an intimate gesture she doesn't shake off.

"I don't think that, I figured it was something like that. I don't hold it against you as long as he is happy and safe, I'm happy for him." Nessa places her hand on Rheas and squeezes it before continuing.

"That just means he doesn't want to be with me, that I wasn't enough, which hurts more and makes me wonder what is wrong with me." Nessa word-vomits, and Rhea looks dismayed and places her hand on Nessa's cheek gently directing her to meet her gaze.

"Hey no, stop that. There is absolutely nothing wrong with you. From what I've seen and heard from Dom you are an angel. I'm sure there was a reason in his idiot mind, you know how men are never thinking through their decisions until after. Did he even ask you about the dynamic before leaving you?" Rhea consoles, rubbing Nessa's back. Nessa shakes her head no, trying to keep from crying.

"I don't know why I'm spilling all this to you, and now I've been offered a job to add to the drama and join the medical team and I don't know what to do..." Nessa sniffles.

"Well sweetheart you preach about wanting Dom Dom to be happy, but what about you? You need to do what makes you happy too. Now it looks like you need a hug." Rhea advises and stands up holding her arms out for a hug. Nessa gets up and hugs her finding a strong sense of comfort in Rhea's arms her eyes closed.

She processes the conversation, and her eyes fly open and steps back from Rhea. "Wait you said something about me joining your relationship?!"

Rhea looks sheepish and nervous and glances at the ground. "Well yeah, if that is something you would like we are open to the idea." She answers.

Nessa stands shocked, unsure how to answer when the boys fling open the curtain and walk in, stopping in their tracks when they see Nessa.

"Hey Mamita, you are still here?" Damien exclaims throwing his arm over her shoulder which shocks her out of her thoughts.

"Uh yeah, Rhea wanted to talk to me."

"Oh yeah when we're alone you can call me Demi," Rhea smiles kindly trying to not make it weirder.

"I'm Luis if you didn't know." Damien gives her a half hug before plopping on the couch.

"You can still call me Finn." Finn chimes in and Dominik is having a staring contest with the ground. Finn and Damien share a look and smile seeing the stack of papers in Nessa's hand.

"Demi, thank you for your honesty and being so kind, I really appreciate it. I value honesty a lot." Nessa smiles a real smile at her and goes over and gives her one more hug to show she doesn't feel weird about the conversation. "It is a lot to process, maybe we'll talk later. Get my number from Dominik if he still remembers it." Nessa adds, throwing a dig at Dom who won't meet her eyes and mumbles sorry under his breath. Finn snickers and nudges the young man.

"Can we all get your number mariposa?" Damien asks winking at Nessa who can't control the blush that creeps up her face as she nods her head. Rhea tries to hide her smile and ends up smirking.

Nessa clears her throat. "Uh could someone show me the way out, I have to work tomorrow morning and want to go to bed. I've had enough excitement for tonight." She asks, and Dominik looks up for the first time.

"Yeah, reinita I'll show you." He steps towards her, but Damien stops him after seeing Nessa's expression.

"You just had a rough match, you need to rest. I'll show mamita out." Damien offers holding out his elbow and Nessa takes it mouthing thanks.

"Hey, I hope we see you again soon!" Finn waves goodbye and Nessa smiles back at him as she walks out of the room with Damien who makes conversation.

"So mamita, I need to ask how do you feel about what you learned today. Are you ok? He pats her hand that is still resting on her elbow.

"Honestly yes, I myself am more flexible with my sexuality, I am proudly pansexual and have no issue with the thought of polyamory. It is more so the fact I am jealous by nature and don't know how I myself could handle it so I am not sure it is for me." She answers honestly but doesn't add on what she was thinking that she is open to try.

"I'm glad you are handling this well, you say you are jealous by nature, but I see no jealousy or being territorial from you regarding Dom."

"Because it has been months and I have begun to accept that he doesn't want to be with me, and as I have said multiple times, I just want him happy I just wish I could be the one to do it." She smiles sadly as they reach the exit door for talent.

"Hey, you made him happy it wasn't your fault he did what he did. I think he freaked out and made a mistake and doesn't know how to fix it. Hopefully, I see you around mamita." He opens the door for her, and she rolls her eyes because she knows what he has been calling her all night.

"That's not my name!" She calls out smiling as she walks out the door, the contract clutched tightly in her hands.

[sicknessbysalem]

Novemetober (Rescheduled) | Day Nineteen

@monthofsick | day nineteen: sick in more ways than one

while scrolling through my blog, it appeared this fic got deleted from my page. I may have done it on accident or the hellsite may have had it for dinner.

regardless, i saved it offsite. so i went back into my notes, made a few edits, and figured i could reupload it here for this prompt.

i hope to get away from novak for a bit, but we’ll see how that goes.

If you would like to send a fic requests to help (or to get more novak content), PLEASE PLEASE DO SO!! Im begging for asks at this point lol.

tw for overheating, emeto, dizziness, migraine mention, fever

alt cw for novak’s daighter (4) being a little present toward the end*

*this is not a kink thing for me so i do not feel bad about it, but i know some people dont like that lol

The summer sun hung high in the sky as Novak stepped onto the practice field with the rest of the Mavericks for preseason training.

The air was thick with the promise of a sweltering day, and the temperature had climbed well into the upper 80s, with possibilities of maybe even reaching the 90s by the end of the day.

The team, accustomed to the usually mild climate, hesitated but eventually decided to train outside until it became unbearable. After all, it would be good practice if they ever played a game in a hot city.

Novak wasn’t exactly accustomed to heat, but usually the heat didn’t bother him. Granted, he was more used to the mid-80s and below, but surely this wouldn’t be too much more overwhelming. After all, it was only a few degrees.

He’s not so sure about that a few drills in. The sun is beating on the field, Novak can feel the heat prickling his skin.

As he’s getting ready to run through some passing drills, an unexpected wave of dizziness made him stop abruptly. The heat bore down on him like an invisible weight, and he feared based on how dizzy he suddenly felt, and the general poor condition of his stomach at any given moment, nausea would follow.

As soon as the mere thought hit him, he took an elastic off his wrist, tying back his sweat soaked ash blond hair.

Landon noticed immediately. Novak only ever seemed to tie up his hair if he wasn’t feeling well. Something about overstimulation, Landon remembered being told.

"You okay, Novak?" he asked, concern etched across his face.

"Yeah, just hot as hell. I'll be fine," Novak replied, attempting to brush off the worry.

Henry chimed in, seeming to agree, “Man, it's getting pretty brutal out here. We should've trained indoors."

As the team continued their drills, the heat intensified, and Novak's condition worsened. The nausea became unbearable, and he couldn't shake the dizziness.

Novak's steps became unsteady. Nausea churned in his stomach. He felt dizzy, or like he was going to pass out.

Well, maybe pass out. But he would definitely puke first. He could already taste the acid in his throat as he anxiously reached up by his neck and started fidgeting with his locket.

Landon’s hand is on him. Novak realizes Landon said something to him. Or maybe was trying to say something. But Novak didn’t catch it.

“God, you’re burning,” Landon commented. That Novak heard. Landon tried to say something else, but Novak didn’t catch that.

Novak’s stomach lurched, as if to accentuate his suffering. This heat was miserable and every part of him was feeling it now.

“Hang on,” Novak said.

Taking a deep, shaky breath, Novak lifted his helmet with one hand, trying to find relief from the oppressive heat. Beads of sweat dripped down his face, his skin uncomfortably warm to the touch. The world around him seemed to blur as he fought against the waves of dizziness.

"Shit, Novak, you sure you're good?" Landon's voice cut through the haze, concern evident in his tone as he caught up with the struggling linebacker.

Novak mumbled a response, his words lost in the oppressive heat. Landon leaned in, trying to catch what Novak was saying.

“What did you say..?” Landon asked, “I’m sorry I couldn’t-“

It was sudden. A split second, but to Novak it felt like an eternity. Novak's stomach revolted violently. Novak clutched his helmet tightly with one hand, trying to keep control, and trying to keep it away from his face, just for now. The other hand stayed clasped around the locket.

"Oh shit, you're going to be sick," Landon exclaimed, helping Novak pull off his helmet, holding it, before quickly taking a step back, a mix of worry and realization on his face.

At that moment, Novak succumbed to the overpowering nausea. He doubled over, emptying the contents of his stomach onto the grass. He heaved, hard, purging what he ate for breakfast and everything he drank leading to this moment.

Landon stayed back as Novak threw up again. He was trying to be mindful of Novak’s boundaries.

Novak vomited again. This time he was more hunched over. Landon could only watch as Novak’s knees buckled and he fell to the ground.

Novak felt so wildly sick. He threw up again, that wave more abundant. He hated that this happened. Part of him thought he heard another player puke too.

“Landon, go deal with Dominic, okay?” Its Jayden. Dominic must have also thrown up.

Jayden knew things that Landon didn’t when it came to Novak being sick. When it came to Novak vomiting. So, Jayden seemed to think the swap was better.

As Novak stood back up, albeit quite shakily, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Jayden offered a sympathetic look.

"Alright, man, let's get you inside, the whole team at that,” Jayden said "This heat's no joke today."

Novak nodded weakly, the remnants of nausea still lingering.

“I think I want to have Daphne look at you,” Jayden said, “That looks like a lot of vomit.”

Novak nodded. Novak still felt too hot, too nauseous. Jayden took him to Doctor Collins’ office.

“Hey, Daphne,” Jayden said, “Heat’s kind of killing Novak the hardest here.”

Novak felt like he was going to be sick again. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t function.

Dr. Collins immediately looked concerned. "Bring him in, let me take a look."

Landon ushered Novak into the office, where the air conditioning provided a welcome reprieve from the outdoor furnace.

Novak, feeling the cool air on his flushed skin, still couldn't shake the persistent nausea. He felt dizzy, shaky, and ready to once more start vomiting.

"Sit down, Novak," Dr. Collins instructed. She probably saw it on his face.

Novak nodded weakly, settling into the chair, his helmet still clutched in his hand.

He felt a sense of relief sitting in the air-conditioned room, but the nausea continued to churn within him.

Dr. Collins assessed Novak's condition. "How are you feeling, Novak?"

The linebacker attempted to speak, but the words caught in his throat. Instead, he doubled over, emptying the contents of his stomach into a nearby trash bin, the sounds echoing in the small office.

Dr. Collins, unfazed by the turn of events, continued her examination, her focus on ensuring Novak's well-being.

After a thorough assessment once Novak was done puking, Dr. Collins sighed, "Novak, I think it's best if you go home and rest. The heat has clearly taken a toll on you. Stay hydrated, and let your body recover."

Novak, feeling drained and defeated, nodded in agreement.

-

Novak stumbled back into the living room from the bathroom, his face pale and beads of sweat lining his forehead.

The few hours at home hadn't brought the relief he hoped for, and the persistent nausea clung to him like a stubborn shadow.

Marina looked up from where she was seated in the chair diagonal to the couch, concern etched on her face.

Novak sat back down on the couch, leaning back against it. He felt horrible. His stomach was a mess. Everything felt bad.

"Is it wrong you ask how you are feeling, sweetheart?" Marina asked, reaching out to touch Novak's forehead. “Goodness, your skin is still so warm. It’s like a stovetop.”

Novak winced at the touch, "Do you want the truth or..?”

Marina rolled her eyes, “The truth, słoneczko.”

Novak sighed, “Honestly… still like… really sick to my stomach? I don’t really know why though, mamoń."

Marina's worry deepened, pulling her hand away from his face. “You're running a fever, Novak. This isn't just from the heat. I’d think by now you’d be cooled down."

Novak sighed, sinking more into the couch, beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

Elya, his four-year-old daughter, played with her toys on the floor, oblivious to her father's discomfort.

"I thought I could tough it out," Novak admitted, his voice strained. "But it's not getting any better."

Marina fetched a damp cloth and placed it on Novak's forehead, a feeble attempt to offer some relief. "You need to rest, sweetheart. Let your body recover. Maybe we can call Willow, get her opinion?"

Elya, sensing something amiss, looked up from her toys. "Daddy, why are you sick?"

Novak managed a weak smile, "Just a little under the weather, princess. It’s really hot outside, you know. Daddy will be fine."

The answer seemed to satisfy Elya. But not so much Marina.

"You've been vomiting for hours, Novak,” Marina said, “That’s not normal. Even for you.”

Novak shook his head, "Mom, it's just the heat. I'll be fine."

But as he spoke, another wave of nausea hit him, and he froze in place for a moment.

Swallowing back acid, he tried to piece together if he could make it back to the bathroom or…

“Are you going to be sick again?” Marina asked, crossing her arms.

“What? No…” Novak forced out, “Just… dizzy.”

“You always get dizzy before-“

Novak nodded, hastily reaching for the trash bin Marina brought in the living room in case this happened.

“I’m calling Willow,” Marina said, getting up off the couch and grabbing her phone.

"Mom, I just need some rest," Novak insisted when it was over, after finally coughing up mere saliva. Which, to him, was a good sign at least.

“Don’t care,” Marina said, “You won’t get checked out yourself. I’m having her come to check you out.”

“Mamoń, Willow’s a lesbian,” Novak said, chuckling softly, “She won’t be checking me out.”

“Novak Aleksander Daskalov,” Marina said, “That is not what I meant and you know it.”

“What’s a leban?” Elya asked, her curiosity unaffected by the very bad state her dad was in.

Novak wanted to laugh.

“I’ll tell you when I feel better, okay?” Novak said.

Elya nodded. A little too excitedly for Novak’s taste. But he found it quite endearing regardless.

As the call connected, Willow answered on the other end. Marina quickly explained Novak's symptoms and the ongoing distress.

"Willow, it's Marina. Novak's not doing well,” Marina said, “He was overheated at practice, but he’s been home for six hours and he’s still vomiting and feels warm to the touch.”

“Hm,” Willow hummed on the other side of the line, “Could be a stomach flu, I’ve seen a few cases this week.”

“That’s what I thought,” Marina said, “Naturally he wasn’t listening.”

Willow giggled softly, “Sounds like Novak. I’m finishing my shift soon. I'll come over and take a look at him when I get off."

Marina hung up, returning to Novak's side. "Willow is on her way.”

-

As the evening sun cast long shadows, Willow arrived at Novak's home. Marina greeted her at the door with a mixture of relief and concern etched on her face.

"Willow, thank you for coming. He's in the living room," Marina said, leading the way.

Willow entered to find Novak laying on the couch, a damp cloth on his forehead, covering his eyes. Elya was sitting nearby, watching her father with a worried expression.

“When did the headache start?” Willow asked. No introduction. No greeting. Just right into it.

Novak groaned, “Like an hour ago…. Well, it’s been hurting since practice but it got more migraine level in the last hour…”

"Besides the headache, how are you feeling?" Willow asked.

Novak managed a weak smile, taking the rag off his head and forcing himself to sit up, “Not great. Dizzy, nauseous. Just all-around miserable."

The change in position made the room spin worse, Novak grabbed the back of the couch.

“Emphasis on dizzy…” Novak admitted.

Willow went to work, checking Novak's vital signs and asking detailed questions about his symptoms. Marina filled her in on the events leading up to his current state, emphasizing the persistent vomiting.

Willow, maintaining her professional composure, finished her assessments. "Your temperature is elevated, and your blood pressure is a bit low. Combine that with the vomiting, and it seems like you've got a stomach virus on top of being overheated. Dehydration might be playing a role too."

Novak nodded, grateful for the clarity. "Do I need to go to the hospital?"

"I don't think it's severe enough for hospitalization at this point, but we need to address the dehydration," Willow explained, reaching in her bag, “Hey Marina, can you grab a bottle of water?”

Marina nodded, going into the kitchen and grabbing one. Willow pulled out an electrolyte solution, mixing it in the water once Marina handed it over.

“Drink that, and…” Willow dug in her bag, pulling out four more, setting them on the coffee table, “There’s some extras. Also plain water is good, the solution is just to help rehydrate you faster. If you puke it back up, make up a new round.”

Novak took a few sips, feeling the cool liquid providing a welcome relief. Willow continued.

“Rest is crucial, and you should continue to hydrate.” Willow said, “If the vomiting persists or if you can't keep fluids down, we might need to consider hospitalization."

Marina, hearing the diagnosis, visibly relaxed. "Thank you, Willow. We appreciate your help."

As Willow provided Novak with instructions for medication and hydration, Elya approached her father with a stuffed animal in hand. "Daddy, this will make you feel better."

Novak chuckled weakly, taking the stuffed animal from his daughter. "Thank you, princess. It's already helping."

Willow smiled at the heartwarming exchange between Novak and his daughter. "A little extra comfort is always good for healing."

After ensuring Novak had a plan for the next few days, Willow prepared to leave. Marina walked her to the door, expressing her gratitude once again.

"Thank you, Willow. Your help means a lot to us. I'll make sure he follows your advice."

Willow nodded, her caring demeanor evident. "Keep an eye on him, and don't hesitate to reach out if anything changes. If I don’t answer, call Vanessa, she could help too."

As Willow left, the living room settled into a quiet atmosphere. Novak, still feeling weakened by the illness, was once again laying on the couch. But this time, Elya nestled beside him, clutching her stuffed animal.

"Daddy, are you going to be okay?" Elya asked, her innocent eyes filled with concern.

Novak ruffled her hair gently, smiling. "I'll be just fine, sweetheart. Thanks to you and Grandma taking care of me."

Marina glanced at Novak with a motherly concern. "You heard Willow. Rest is crucial. Let your body heal."

Novak nodded, “Can you get my phone, mamoń, I’m going to call coach, tell him I can’t go tomorrow.”

Marina smiled, “That might be the most sensible thing you’ve said since you got home, słoneczko.”

[iampikachuhearmeroar]

y’know not to jump onto the string of posts that i’ve been seeing about “please learn small talk for the love of god”….. but i think the memes around “all i want is deep talks and REAL conversations. none of this shallow shit anymore. i have to talk about space and existence and everything when i first meet someone” really do rot your brain.

because during my time in UG uni (2015-2018) i was very much on my high horse about needing deep conversations. but following that line of thinking is mostly why i made next to no friends at uni. i was so obsessed with the idea of needing “deep, meaningful and insightful” or whatever the fuck the memes said convos, that i really struggled to build small talk skills about “inane shit” (as per memes) like the weather, sport, the daily mundane hum-drum of life. and also work (but we all know i never worked during uni so this bit doesn’t count for me). i forgot how to ask people what their fave shows were, what their fave music was. hell, even what their fave flavour of coffee was or whatever. y’know, besides all the lame getting to know you ice breaker games at the beginning of each semester…. that tried and always kinda failed at trying to get everyone to build common ground and be friends, i really never asked these types of questions to anyone during undergrad. so obvs, in turn, no one/barely anyone asked them of me outside of icebreaker games. so, it was very isolating and lonely, to say the least.

but when it came to it, i never actually wanted the deep conversations, really. my degree was deep enough, being english and philosophy. so much so, that i didn’t even want to explain things to people (like the symptoms of my stomach tumour- ie constant bouts of nausea and extreme tiredness) which is exactly one (1) of the many, many things that put me off dating for the entirety of uni. i just wanted empty conversations, to keep my mind off of my assignments and the sheer amount of course content that i was trying to avoid for them. i wanted time to stop. to freeze. to slow the fuck down. and god. i just wanted someone to talk to. but lo & behold, fucking dumb ass early 20s me also didn’t want to talk to anyone bc “the conversation isn’t quality and deep”; all because of the amount of time i spent on This Here Hellsite (affectionate)™️ reblogging those bs memes and also liking them on fb. but what fucking early 20something year old actually knows what Quality Conversation™️ is anyway???? lmao. sure asf not me back then. and i’m sure asf not many other early 20somethings would know, either.

but now that i’m finally in a job, i see the importance of small talk. i see how it helps build routine and build connections slowly, but surely. i’m still building friendships at work. but god. it’s so much easier to blab about the shows you’re watching, what you did on the weekend, your fave wine/s, the good places to eat in the city or whatever the fuck else small stuff that you talk about at work.

because holy fuck. if someone had come up to me on my first day in march this year, demanding that “oh hey! we have to talk about quantum physics and the essence of being a solid state of non-celestial being and how that effects the very existence of humanity in the world” or some other weird sounding deep shit, i would have ran straight out of the office. like no joke: what the fuck is up with todd??? because we sure as fuck aren’t in a quantum physics lecture or a philosophy of science or physics lecture that would begin that debate. bc bro. simmer the fuck down and tell me if you like to surf or not. good fucking god. we’ll get to those convos on lunch break, eventually. but not when i barely fucking know you. sweet baby lord jesus.

like don’t get me wrong. yes. we need to have deep conversations with people. but you’re never going to get them if you totally block out and dismiss ALL small talk as “pointless, inane and useless” or “vapid and empty” as opposed to putting “deep conversations about time and the universe and how people meet in the cosmos (not counting vision boards)” on a pedestal…. and trying to paint yourself as a pretentious pseudo-intellectual (i guess) douchebag who only wants to talk about that stuff. because like i said earlier, no one wants to talk about the state of the human race or whatever the fuck the first time they meet someone, really.

(although asking political beliefs and stuff is probs a good idea but that’s a whole other post).

basically my point is: for anyone who is Terminally Online™️ and a Humble Meme Farmer™️ like myself and has had the Internet Brain Rot Worms™️ infiltrate their brain with the “fuck small talk! i have to have deep conversations the moment i meet you!” bullshit….. please try to break free from them. practice small talk in the mirror. practice in the shower or the bath. practice it while you drive yourself around (if you have your licence/a car). practice it in the dark of night in a seance of small talk demons. idek whatever your style is.

just. learn to build small and simple connections with other people with easy things like “what’s your fave colour?” or “what’s your dogs name??” et al. ad infinitum. because for crying out loud. when you really think about it, that’s what all those OG tumblr askbox question posts were all about. small talk. but it’s easier obvs with only a keyboard in front of you, and an imaginary audience. but it’s obvs different in person, where you can’t delete words and screwups. but who the fuck cares???

just get the fuck away from your laptop and actually talk to people in the real world. not just your fellow terminally online meme farmer mutuals on various social media sites. because then you’ll realise that small talk, albeit it being a bit of a pain sometimes, ain’t all that bad….. even for a socially awkward ambivert/introvert infp (like myself- see i’m still ~quirky ✌🏻✨~)…. and is kinda inevitably essential to building stable friendships/relationships…… instead of believing that being deep and meaningful and trying to force The Big Deep 🧐🌊🔮👽🤯™️ on everyone, all the time, is the only way to have good conversations.

[chishigure]

6 & 7 for the munday meme!

More Munday questions

@kowaindar0u

6. What is something that you didn’t think you will write but now you are writing it?

Honestly I did not think I would ever write South Park muses, but eversince playing the games (Stick of Truth, and Fractured But Whole), also watching the show, I forgot how much I loved this stupid show/game. I've watched this show since I was a kid. I shuldn't have, but me and my brother did lol. I have a lot of fun writing my SP muses. Craig being my favorite one, probably cuz he's feels kinda relatable to me. He's just a cynical little guy that wants no part in some random bullshit (although he did take part in some stupid bs before lol). He's also known for flipping everybody off, and he tends to be bluntly honest whether people like it or not, also tends to call people (including his friends) out on stupid bullshit haha. Of course I'm not EXACTLY like the little guy, but he still feels kinda relatable for me cuz I sometimes wish I could call people out on their bs at work lol -shit-

BTW I would NOT recommend South Park to anybody that is not too fond or crude or dark humor. I especially would not recommend this show to minors. SP is known to poke fun at actually serious topics like racism, homophobia, politics, health issues, a lot of things.

Welcome to South Park where anything can happen and I mean anything. There is a literal towel named Towelie that gets high, and I kid you all not a literal talking piece of shit named Mr. Hanky.

7. What is something you didn’t think you have a problem writing it and now you stopped writing it?

I'm not sure, really... I guess smut???? While I am still very self-conscious with writing smut-related content, especially on this hellsite, I have written smut on discord with a few friends before with whatever muses we actually ship together. But now I hardly write smut... Maybe smut is just not priority for me, and neither is shipping???? Although sometimes some of my muses are horny LOL. And as for ships, while I do have ships of my own, I'm actually very picky with ships these days. IDK why, I just am. I need chemistry. I won't just ship just to ship, and I won't write smut just to write smut. I also don't wanna force ship or force smut -shrugs- And even if there's a popular ship out there, sometimes even I don't ship that ship????? I hate to admit it, but sometimes it's people who tend to ruin whatever ship for me that it's hard for me to ship it now. Though sometimes it's also me disagreeing with how the ship is written even in canon haha.

Not for smut... While I'm not completely against it anymore, it's really not my top priority either even if my muses might be horny lol. It's also just me being self-conscious with writing smut in general. I'll probably write smut if we're close friends, but even with that it's not always guaranteed or promised lol. And honestly like I said before, I don't wanna write smut just to write it. I'd like for something to lead to there. I'd want the smut to feel natural if that makes any sense?????? LOL. Same goes for writing ships.

Anyway, I guess we can say that I haven't stopped writing ships or smut. I'm overall just very picky with ships, and very self-conscious and therefore very highly selective with writing smut LOL.

[mariyaki]

So people of course are trying to scam me

As my mutuals and followers know by now I’m in dire need of money and so I’m doing commissions and the important thing to note here is that I’m trying to advertise on all social media but the worst option ever is Instagram

We all know it sucks but I’m desperate and I’m posting everywhere (all links to all social media and ko-fi in my bio please 🙏) and so of course I’m gonna try on that actual hellsite

So this is in my opinion a scammer and so I’m just gonna show it in case someone else finds themselves in a situation. Some unimportant messages are not shown and all images I sent were unsent and are going to be missing in these screenshots so if the messages imply an image was there that’s because it was

First off sus. Why are you not dming ME and also proof they didn’t read my post at all because it says dm ME and preferably go through ko-fi also homie doesn’t know how to reply properly

Obviously the comment was a bot until I asked it to reply. And clearly this person doesn’t know who they are talking to because again IF THEY READ MY POST OR MY INSTA NAME THEY WOULD KNOW THE ANSWER IS YES sorry getting heated too soon. Also sus af according to my sources (artist friends) to ask for a real person commission. Also I’m advertising furry art.

Okay bold and brash to get my hopes up (not high) about a full comm in my desperate times and I assume that’s the tactic is to get the mark excited about the money

This usually wouldn’t be sus but with everything else I’m counting this as very sus because buddy READ WHAT IM SAYING TO YOU but I expect too much of the instascammer. By this point I was already pretty sure this wasn’t going to be real but was still holding onto a thread of hope…

Mhm you need my email for what exactly? Because I know for a fact that the link I sent works just fine and dandy. It’s almost like someone wants to send me something 🤔

Now let’s unpack this together!

1. Very specific and knowing instructions for a person who can’t even read a commission sheet

2. No why would it go to spam? PayPal never does to spam for me that’s hmm.. 🤔

3. Now as a real poor mother fucker that $200 is such a slap to the face god… I knew for a fact I was being scammed at this point but still part of me was hopeful or maybe that’s just desperation idk

Let’s see that email in the spam

Hmm

Hmm… well those are very different looking emails huh?

Refund it back? Oh gosh that must mean my PayPal app is very mad at me WAAAAAAAH

[delphiniumjoy]

Not to be sentimental on main, but

Does anyone else know the feeling of like… a found family crush? I personally don’t vibe with the term squish, and I don’t think that counts bc I’m already friends with these people. But also as we all get closer and closer to having to be real adults I get really scared of the idea of drifting away from them. How do I tell my friends that I want to opt into third-wheeling? Or fifth-wheeling or whatever. I want to be able to tell their extended family embarrassing stories of their college lives, and take their kids or pets or equivalent on fun outings

Maybe it’s the social difficulties trauma and the fact that I didn’t have real friendships until college that’s making me want to hold on extra tight, and it’s definitely the trauma that gets in the way of even hinting at this vulnerable emotional shit irl. ‘Cause like, I love these idiots, but I feel like I have to censor myself from admitting that for some reason (not that I’m exactly keeping it private when one of them is my only mutual on this hellsite, so maybe it’s just that I don’t think I could articulate it to their face)

I’m just happy around these people and thinking about these people in a way that society has told me I’m not allowed to be unless it’s romantic and it’s pissing me off

I just want an irl found family thing, please

[artisticbunny]

o.O look I know it’s only been like a week but I’m like, deeply infatuated with a whole new concept that has nothing to do with anything I had previously indulged in. It has nothing to do with fnaf, or utdr, or anime, or even any of my favorite book series

(BUT A COMPLETELY ORIGINAL CONCEPT BY YOU BUN THIS IS CRAZY LIKE HOW WELL OILED IS YOUR BRAIN? WHAT AM I MISSING?)

And today— I come bearing questions for the creator of this ‘new concept’— a true genius from none other than the nefarious hellsite;

Tumblr.

Yep. That’s right. And now, I ask this:

(Hey Bun, don’t mind me I’m just roleplaying myself in your inbox over a silly question. I just wrote an opinionated report for my ELA teacher, so maybe I’m not out of writer mode lol. Anyways, can we know more about Brook? Like y’know, ‘Brook Child’. If that’s treading too close to spoiler territory, then alternatively, can we know about Sam the wizard? He was mentioned earlier and I like wizards and warlocks because magic is such a popular concept based off of something which nobody really knows. Plus it’s something I’m sure everyone ever has fantasized about, even if many believe it doesn’t exist… not nerd ver: magic is cool can we hear about Sam?)

:3 Yep. That’s it. Hope this wasn’t too long or crazy lol. I really do enjoy the course of this and how it’s going. Sounds really cool. Also, I LOVE the artwork that goes along with it. (Plus I saw your Cryptid design and it IS quite friend shaped if I do say so myself lol) You draw very nicely, I like that it’s awesome.

HHHHHH GRABS YOU AND STARTS SHAKING YOU AROUND YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT THAT MEANS TO ME AAAAA

PLEASE ALL THESE COMPLIMENTS ARE GONNA GO TO MY HEAD (///////) IVE BEEN READING YOUR TAGS IN THE REBLOGS TOO DONT THINK I HAVENT!!!! YOU GOT ME SMILING LIKE AN IDIOT!!!!

And so,,, Ask and ye shall receive my beloved moot!!!

Brook’s backstory is one that is completely lost to her. Her “mother” never really told her much other than “I found you and took you in, so now you owe me.” At the moment I don’t really think it’s important to the story, and I don’t think it will ever come up so I’ll spill the tea for you ;3

Brook actually was born into a very loving family. She had parents who adored her and each other, and they lived in a fairly peaceful town. This… didn’t really last. Brook’s family went out one day, planning to go a few towns over to see relatives, and instead of settling down for the night, decided to travel through till the morning. Under the shade of night, they were jumped by bandits. During the scuffle, their horse got spooked, and whisked away the cart, with Brook still inside. The horse ran off-trail into the woods, the cart catching on fallen trees and rocks. The horse’s restraints attaching it to the cart were damaged so much by all the debris that when the cart got caught in the bank of a rocky stream, the horse broke free, and the cart remained. Brook’s “Mother” found her and took her in with the thought that she could help with chores when she was older.

Brook stayed 16 long years with her “Mother” (making her ~17 now), and got the idea to escape about a year and a half prior to the events of the story :)

Under her “mother”’s “care”, it wasn’t uncommon for Brook to have food taken away from her if she acted up or made mistakes, it also wasn’t uncommon for her to be locked in the basement with only thin slits of windows to let in light. The basement is also where she slept, not having a room of her own.

Because of these conditions, she is pretty sickly. She is VERY thin and malnourished, and is also pretty short as a result (she’s almost EXACTLY 5 feet tall, maybe a little shorter if you flatten her hair). Her hair is matted and tangled, and her clothes are old, thin, and covered in various stains and grime. She has lots of scars all over her body but by far the most noticeable is the one straight down over half of her face.

She has anxiety and is baby and I love her :)

She’s tired, and needs a break, but she’s not really gonna get one for a while, sorry hon!

Now, you get Sam too because he is VERY cool and silly and I love him.

Sam is a half elf!!! Idk that I mentioned this before!!! He’s kinda just a silly goofy dude who gets stage fright unless it’s his silly werewolf boyfriend. They LOVE each other your honor!!!

Unfortunately god gives his hardest tests to his silliest clowns.

Yeah he goes through the wringer throughout the story. I can’t say much of that because yay plotpoint!!! But yeah djxndhdh

So basically Sam was born in a nice town, pretty average sized, with parents that wanted the best for him. When they saw that he had innate magical abilities (ie: a higher magic storage ability and they saw him just messing around with it and having fun as a kid), they thought that setting him up for apprenticeships would set him up for a good life. What they DIDNT consider is that Sam didn’t really want that. Yeah, when he first started he thought magic was REALLY cool!!! And fun!!! But… all the studying and reading and practicing form and BLAH BLAH BLAH- it made it almost unbearable. Honestly now that I’m thinking about it I probably infused some of my adhd into him without realizing- whoops! Sitting for hours and hours on end just studying instead of actually doing the cool stuff? No thanks that sounds like actual torture! Lol

But yeah, he would end up going through like 5 apprenticeships before he and Joe end up running off into the woods together to find Joe’s tether or some other alternative that hasn’t been discovered yet. They spent a while just kinda camping in the woods with not really much luck before Brook comes along. They’ve been out on their own for about 3 or 4 years at that point, but they haven’t really been counting.

Sorry Sam probably isn’t as interesting as the others, not too bad of a tragic backstory competitively lol. Gotta have SOME less messed up characters! Trust me tho, he gets some good character time in the story I promise!

Here’s what he looks like:

He has a lot of scruff lol, and I love that for him <3

[sarah-dipitous]

Hellsite Nostalgia Tour 2023 Day 68

Monster Movie

“Monster Movie”

Would I Survive the First Five Minutes??: The victim was already dead before the episode started. We started in the car with the boys and then they went to a small town’s Oktoberfest

The cinematography of this one is EXCELLENT. The script? Phenomenal. It feels exactly like an old movie

I’m wondering how far in it’ll be when the other shoe drops. It can’t be this old monster movie the whole time. It’s too early in the series for this conceit to last the WHOLE episode. We actually have an end goal still. At some point, this black and white film, the dramatic camera work, the script will revert. We won’t be in Kansas anymore … or Pennsylvania, I guess

I had no idea where Dean was going with all the descriptions of the scars and bullet wounds that he no longer has since coming back from hell, but…I never would have guessed that he would consider himself a virgin again. I refuse to weigh in on if he’s right or wrong because it’s simply a construct, I simply wasn’t expecting it

Ew, dump this guy immediately. Oh look, a werewolf did it for you!!

Mmm, looks like this case IS weird enough for you now.

A MUMMY??? This one barely makes ANY sense to have, but I’m not ACTUALLY complaining…okay, at least it’s not an actual Egyptian sarcophagus with an actual mummified human inside. Prop sarcophagus—THANK YOU, Sam, for saying what we’re all a little bit thinking “this is stupid”

OH SO HES LIKE DRACULA DRACULA (sort of)

(Omg how has the other shoe not dropped yet? THERES EVEN AN INTERMISSION!! This might be the best episode, sorry)

A shapeshifter???

“No, the X Files is a tv show, this is real” I love this script

Ed is too obvious of a choice. He’s got a crush on the pretty bartender, he works as a projectionist at the old movie theatre…

Lucy on the other hand…seems like a deliberate name..

Is Sam, yeah, he’s entered a full phantom of the opera scene ……..yeah, knew it wasn’t Ed

No. Come on. They can’t Frankenstein’s monster Dean. I can’t believe they’re doing this to me. (Ok. To be honest, I didn’t keep up with Dracula Daily the whole way last year. Is there a scene where Jonathan gets or almost gets electrocuted? Are we just playing out Dracula instead of injecting some Frankenstein into this?)

This pizza delivery guy is NOT paid enough to deal with this

I’m DYING. Ok so the shapeshifter in Dracula form has Jaime(/Mina), wants her to put on this beautiful gown so they may eat…pizza. To quote Sam earlier “this is stupid” but I love it

Ok I WAS right (maybe) Dean just said he was about to be Frankenstein’d. To which I repeat, I can’t believe they’re doing THIS to ME (but why put him in lederhosen??)

Did Jaime? Yeah, Jaime just killed the shapeshifter

This was such an enjoyable romp of a breather episode. They never did fully drop the old monster movie pretense, and it was NICE.

“Been On My Mind…”: aw look, Dean at least got to kiss Jaime on more than one occasion, so we’re back at 10

[knowlesian]

(if you’re cool with sharing) what are your pronouns?

my gremlin soul says “reference the post about whatever pronouns makes the joke land” but i’m feeling reflective/super grateful for finding a community of supportive and cool people here on the hellsite this morning, so the cheesy sincere answer it is.

i’m still sort of figuring that answer out! up until… ohhh, let’s see. vico tipped over the final domino in a series that jane widdop and liv hewson (and erika ishii, can’t forget the first person who made me go …oh wait though. that sounds like how i feel! idk what that means, just gonna file it away in the denial basket a while longer) started when i watched yellowjackets. before that i was pretty sure she/her was the answer here, even if they didn’t feel exactly right.

and then some very smart people on this site were like …i mean babe. if you don’t hate it but you don’t love it, what do you feel about they?

and i was like …actually. i kinda rock with they! they feels pretty fuckin cool. and then i went WHAT DOES THIS MEEEEEEAN THO and those same people were like “whatever the fuck you want it to, you KNOW THIS, just quit stressing and see where it leads you”

like, seriously. whenever people freak out about the rise of the singular they ripping apart the fabric of gender, im like YEAH. GOOD. because without a rise in visibility and spaces where i could start to ask myself these questions, i don’t think i would have asked them at all.

which is to say: right now i’m in a space where they/she feels like where i’m sitting for now. and maybe i stay here! maybe i don’t, who fuckin knows. we are all a million people every single day before we even get out of bed to show aspects of ourselves to the world around us but never quite our entirety and all that.

(also thank you for asking because iiiii have been trying to figure out how to even start talking about this, and this is a great chance to do it!)

[redwinterroses]

Request should you feel up to it: Some of the MCC participants reactions to seeing that Ren is a cyborg now (I know his MCC 15 skin didn't show the machine in his chest but what if it had). Would love to see Martyn in particular but anyone else Ren has interacted with that you feel like tossing in there works too.

I worked on this all day that I was logged out of tumblr, which just goes to show what can be accomplished when one isn't constantly refreshing this hellsite. XD

.

.

.

“My liege!”

Ren, startled, jumped several inches in the air and whirled around to see Martyn jogging toward him down the brightly-colored causeway, wearing the purple uniform of their team.

“It’s good to see you again!” Martyn declared, a massive grin on his face.

“Oh! Me hand!” Ren laughed and spread his arms wide. “The Hand and the King have been reunited!”

Martyn grabbed Ren in a warm hug, pounding his back heartily.

“Ah, ya love to see it, ya love to see it,” Ren chuckled. His face felt like it would crack open from smiling—it hadn’t been that long since he’d seen his friend, but it seemed far longer than a measly few months. For Scott to put them on the same team for this competition—well. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t been looking forward to this for weeks.

Martyn stood back, holding Ren’s shoulders and giving him a small shake. “How you been, dude?” he asked. He frowned, and tilted his head. “You look a little thinner since the last time I saw you. Which is saying something since you were dead then. You good?”

Ren didn’t stop smiling, but he nodded toward some benches off to the side of the path. “Of course I’m good, my dude,” he said. “Better than ever, ya might even say.”

They moved toward the benches—dodging a few other eagerly-bouncing teams as they crossed the walk—and sat down. Ren raised his hand and waggled the new metal fingers at Martyn.

“Got myself a few… upgrades,” he said. “What’d ya think?”

“Ren—what…” Martyn’s face creased in concern and he reached out—pausing, with a glance for permission. Ren nodded, and Martyn took the robotic hand gently, turning it over and tapping the silver casing. He ran his fingertips over the delicate joints and shook his head. “What happened, dude?”

Pulling his hand free, Ren rubbed it self-consciously. “Eh… had a little run-in with, erm—” he hesitated. “That is, I got in a bit of a scrape. Renbob and Doc came to my rescue but…” he gave an awkward little laugh. “Some of me bits are never to be seen again.”

Martyn was still looking at the hand.

“I’d heard you had a rough end to your season seven,” he said. “There weren’t a lot of details, but…” He met Ren’s eyes with an expression Ren didn’t quite have a name for. “Nobody gave the impression that it was this bad.”

Ren was tempted to just brush it off—ah, it was no big deal. Nothing I couldn’t handle, ya know—but this was Martyn. Next to the Hermits, there was no one he trusted more.

He shrugged. “Technically…” he said. “Just between you and me and this bush over here… I think I technically died. Again.” He forced a grin. “Bad habit, I know.”

“Wow.” Martyn sat back against the bench. “Wow—that’s rough, dude. How…” he reached out and tapped Ren’s cyborg arm again. “How bad is it?”

“My arm,” Ren admitted. “And my leg.” He lifted his pant leg to show the cybernetics beneath. Then he rapped at his chest, the metal thunking hollowly under the purple team hoodie he wore. “And… a lot of other bits and bobs that I don’t honestly really understand myself. Doc cracks jokes whenever I ask, but... I think it was a pretty close thing, to be honest.”

Something dark flashed across Martyn’s face. “And I had no idea,” he said. He leaned back, rubbing his forehead and closing his eyes. “You might have died and I wouldn’t have had a clue. Some friend that makes me.”

“Oh, good grief, Martyn—” Ren kicked Martyn’s shoe. “Don’t even start with that, man. It’s not like you knowing would have made any difference.” Though, as he said it, the thought flitted through his mind that the same could be said of him: anything could happen to Martyn, and he’d let the radio silence stretch long enough that he wouldn’t have known until it was too late. “Lesson learned,” he said aloud. “After this, we keep in better contact. We’ll be regular pen pals.”

Martyn huffed in something close to amusement. “Sure,” he said. “I think Netty’s got some cute stationary somewhere I can steal.” He gestured at Ren’s arm and leg. “Honest question: are you good for today? A near-death experience isn’t exactly something to laugh at. If you’re not ready, I’m sure Scott could find someone to swap in for you.”

“Not a chance, not a chance.” Ren bounced to his feet and made a grand gesture to the stadium around them. “We’re the winning POV, baby!”

He was glad to see some of the concern melt away from Martyn’s face. It was worth the twinges of discomfort in his still-recovering limbs, and he surreptitiously clenched a fist. Nothing—especially not a little bit of pain—was going to hold him back today.

“Oh, absolutely.” Martyn stood, and punched Ren lightly on the arm. “Hey, you guys have all won before—you and False and Illumina. No pressure, but I’d love a win today.”

“We’ll see what we can do, me hand. For the honor of Dogwarts and all that, right?”

Martyn leaped up on the raised edges of the path. “Indeed, milord!” he declared loudly, earning amused looks from other players. “For the honor of Dogwarts!”

#MCC15PurplePandasForever

[the-purity-pen]

One Temptation

Pairing: Benny Miller x Will Miller x Santiago Garcia x Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader

gif is not my own. credit to the creator [ if you know who made this, please tell me so i can credit them, thanks! ]

Rating: EXPLICIT (18+ ONLY!) Warnings: Sex Pollen, Group sex, Double Penetration, Unprotected PIV (please be safe irl), cum eating, fingering, oral (f & m receiving), Anal, Shower sex, let me know if i missed anything! Word Count: 5,818 Notes: This has been in the works for MONTHS at this point and I finally feel okay releasing it to the hellsite. It’s filthy, it’s probably not perfectly canon but I love these boys and this was such an adventure to write. Please let me know what you think!

You were nervous as hell to walk into the conference room. The first day on any job is nerve wracking but even after a few weeks, you found yourself feeling like the outsider still. It wasn’t anyone’s direct fault, per say. Just a feeling you had from being the new one on the team.

The team you had been assigned to was a tight knit one. The four of them having been through all kinds of combat and missions together. Their previous team leader had gone off the rails and was forced to retire early. 

Your debriefing hadn't gone into a lot of details but the remaining men on the team seemed friendly enough. Benny and Will Miller, the brothers were such polar opposites that their interactions were always entertaining. And Frankie Morales seemed like a pretty sensible one, a lovable man with a mean streak when needed. 

And then there was Santiago Garcia. The man was generally more observant but when he spoke, he attracted the attention of an entire room. His personality was electric in a way. The way his scruff would sound as his hand ran over his jaw, deep in thought at whatever mission was being described as one that the team would be taking.

A new drug lord was suspected in Miami, carting drugs from Colombia and Bolivia. The trail had led to many dead ends but there was one loose end that your new team would be able to solve. A nightclub had been staked out and found to be smuggling drugs through some warehouse-like door in the basement. There wasn’t enough to get full intel and they needed a team to infiltrate and go undercover to gain more information.

Part of the plan was to have you, of course, dress up and play flirty with some of the bouncers and bodyguards of the club. You were extremely nervous and it apparently showed through because as much you knew these guys were good, you couldn’t help but feel like trusting them with an assignment like this was a big ask.

When the assigning officer heard your concerns, he offered up a serotonin-inducing serum. It was new on the market but was studied to have helped with team building. At least that’s what he told you. After having a short conversation with the team, you agree to all take the serum.

After taking the sticky sweet green drink, you were informed that it could take a full 24 hours for the full effect to take place. "Why don't we throw a party?" Benny chimed in with the boyish grin plastered on his face.

You stifled a laugh and shook your head. "I'm not exactly the party type," you admitted as your eyes scanned from Benny to Santi who spoke up next.

"What about just a night of beers and cheesy movies?" he offered to which all heads started nodding. "My place. Tomorrow night. Eight o clock," he added after the consensus was made.

***********

Walking up to Santiago's door had your heart thundering so loud in your ears, you were sure you wouldn't be able to hear him when he greeted you. Your hands twisted around the case of beers, hoping you had picked the right kind. You knew how these military types were picky about their booze.

"Hey! You made it!" Santi exclaimed as he opened the door and let you walk in. Your eyes took in the small apartment and noticed that you were the first to arrive.

"Am I early?" You turned around to face him as he closed the door. He shook his head with a chuckle as he moved closer to take the case of beer from you and move it to the fridge.

"Nah, they're just always late. Good choice by the way," he mentioned as he held up the case and nodded to it just before placing it in the fridge. Your arms weakly rubbed at each other, crossed over your chest.

When Santi turned back towards you, he chuckled. "You can take your jacket off, you know. I mean if you plan on staying," he cracked which made you smile. After your jacket slipped off and was placed on the back of a nearby chair, Santi held an open beer out to you.

"Thanks," you told him softly before there were more knocks on the door. The other three piled in, Will followed by Benny with Frankie bringing up the rear. Benny was already slurring and jolly, Will was just shaking his head at his brother as he greeted you. Frankie came up, adjusting the ball cap that he always seemed to wear and said hello.

***********

"Truth or Dare!" Benny cried out when a suggestion pool had started of what they should play.

Handfuls of beers had been consumed by this point and you were starting to feel more comfortable. It was also becoming apparent as you watched each of them how attractive they really were in this laid back setting.

The entire group groaned but Benny pushed forward on the couch so his elbows were on his knees. Santi had actually been oddly quiet, chewing on his lower lip as he was watching you interact.

"Alright Pope. You first," Benny held up a hand loosely gesturing at the man sitting across from him. Santi rolled his eyes and shook his head but grinned at the same time.

Will tapped Benny on the shoulder and whispered some idea into his brother's head that apparently made Benny very excited. "Ooh! Ooh! Okay okay," Benny adjusted his shoulders, shooting you a quick glance before looking back to Santi.

"Have you ever thought about-" 

"I didn't even choose which one asshole!" Santi replied with a loud laugh. Seeing his smile that wide was uncommon and you felt a small knot form in your chest at it but you stifled a snort in response.

Frankie and Will also broke out into laughter as Benny conceded. "Alright alright fine. Choose, motherfucker," he narrowed his eyes at Santi before cracking a grin himself.

"Truth cuz I'm too old and lazy to do any stupid stunts you could come up," Santi chided at his brother in arms before taking a long swig of his beer, one of the bottles of the kind that you had brought.

Benny rubbed his hands together like he was concocting some evil plan. "Alright then back to what I was asking before you so -rudely- interrupted. Have you," he paused to glance over at you, his gaze unashamedly running over your body, making you curl into yourself a bit more on the big armchair you were seated in. "Ever thought about fucking her?" He nodded his head in your direction when his gaze came back to Santi.

Your heart was back to racing in your chest as you turned your attention to Santi. Without missing a beat, Santi answered. "Abso-fucking-lutely."

You were ninety percent sure that you stopped breathing. Your eyes blinked only out of automation as your mouth became a small o shape. Your entire body felt like it was heating up in the few moments that passed.

Santi then looked at you and your entire body felt ablaze again. "Uh, what? What did I just say?" Santi seemed to have come-to from a small spell he was under. Your gaze was so focused on his face you didn't see the way the other three shifted in their seats or the way that Frankie palmed himself lightly to adjust his growing erection at the thought.

"Y-you…" Words were hard to come by and your face felt like fire and your heartbeat whooshed into your ears. Your chest heaved lightly at the sudden panting you seemed to be doing.

"Well fuck me!" Benny cried out as he laughed nervously. Will punched his brother in the arm and that's when your eyes shifted to the rest of the guys, noticing that their gazes were locked on you. It was as if you held some sort of magical answer to a question you didn't have any clue of.

Your mouth opened and closed a few times before you cleared your throat and took a nervous sip of your beer. There was only a drop. You huffed nervously. "Oh, look, I need another beer," you quickly and quietly said before pushing up out of the chair and practically running over to the kitchen.

You could hear their low murmurs, chattering amongst themselves as you rinsed the empty bottle in the sink. Your hands were a shaking mess as thoughts swirled in your mind. You squeezed your eyes shut for a second before bending to grab another beer from the fridge.

A presence against your backside made you gasp. Hands came to your hips as you slowly stood up, swallowing the large lump that had formed in your throat. You tried to clear it as you closed the fridge but the presence behind you kept their grip on your hips.

Your nose finally picked up the scent of the cologne. Santi. He leaned forward, pressing his chest to your back as one finger came up to trace a line down your neck. Instinctively your head rolled to the other side to open for his soft touch.

Your breathing was ragged and you immediately mewled when his lips took over for his hand against your neck. "I want you hermosa," his voice grumbled against your skin and you immediately felt weak. Your hands tried to focus on the beer bottle but you were slipping into euphoria.

"Santi," you heard Benny's voice come from across the kitchen. Both you and Santi turned to see all three of them moving closer. "We all want her," Benny admitted and you saw the way his tongue peeked out between his lips to wet then as his eyes seared into you.

"Guys." Your voice was weak and shaky. "I- I can't do this. It's-" your words were cut off by Santi's lips attaching to your neck again and the bottle you held was slammed down onto the counter as you gripped the edge to steady yourself.

One of his hands worked around to the front of your blouse and tugged at the buttons. You could feel the weight of him pressing against your ass and your entire body buzzed with lust. That familiar heat was starting to grow in the pit of your stomach and you knew the booze was partially to blame.

But only partially.

When your eyes fluttered open as Santi slowed his assault on your neck, you saw Benny standing so much closer. "Seriously," he said, his hand coming up to let a finger trace along your collarbone. "We want you," he told you in an uncharacteristically quiet voice before leaning in to capture your lips.

You moaned quietly against his lips, having not been kissed in far too long. You finally pushed against him and he pulled away from the kiss. "Seriously," you sloppily repeated back his words as you scooted to the side out of Santi's grasp.

A piece of paper was on the island counter that caught your attention. The red lettering at the bottom looked familiar. Your curiosity piqued and you moved closer to pick up the paper to read it.

Known side effects include but are not limited to: sudden panting, decreased morality judgement, increased appetite, increased sexual desire and libido…

You blinked as Santi rounded the corner of the counter to you. "Fuck," you muttered quietly to yourself as you noticed his movements and came around the other side to only be greeted by Frankie, who's tanned skin on his cheeks was flushing slightly.

"Did anyone read this?!" You asked, panicked and looked at all of them one by one.

"What is it?" Benny asked, not fully caring what it was.

You moved closer to Frankie to hold it up. His eyes tried hard to focus on the words as he took the paper from you. "It's the fucking side effects to the serum, man," Frankie spoke aloud as he too paused at the one about sexual desire. "Shit," he muttered as a hand came down to his crotch to adjust himself.

"Well what are they?" Benny asked impatiently as he eyed you walking across the floor to the living room. Santi moved over to Frankie to take the paper and read it over. Will was watching you along with his brother as your hips swayed as you paced the living room floor.

"Fuckin' increased sexual desire? What the shit is that? Why would they give this to us?!" Santi yelled but realized that all eyes were on you as you breathed heavily. Your arms were crossed over your chest and one hand was at your lips, tugging at them, trying everything in your power to keep yourself distracted from looking over at your team.

“Hey,” Santi called your name with furrowed brows. “You alright?” he questioned as he moved closer. Your mind was reeling but your body was convulsing with need, with want. It felt like a fire had been lit from deep within your belly and no amount of pacing or trying to think straight was going to smother it.

Santi’s hand on your shoulder made you jump, too wrapped up in your own body and thoughts to notice how close he had gotten. He was standing directly in front of you and your eyes were darting around his features. Your nose flaring with each pant of a breath you tried to take. His own eyes were trying to take in every movement of your face to see what was going on but he was far too distracted by the parting of your lips.

“Santi.” His name came out as a breathless whimper as you looked at him. Within a moment his hand was on the back of your head and his lips were pressing hungrily into yours.

You heard movement in the kitchen and into the living room but Santi’s lips had moved to your neck and all thoughts were gone. The burn in your body was glowing brighter, threatening to combust when he bit down on the conjunction of your neck and shoulder.

Suddenly another pair of hands were groping at the globes of your ass through your jeans. A groan in your ear that wasn’t Santi had your eyes fluttering. One of your hands was holding the back of Santi’s head, scratching his scalp lightly. Your other hand dipped behind your back and down, groping at what you found to be a very hard cock in someone’s jeans.

Benny’s groan came clear into your ears. “God, you’re so hot,” he muttered which made you release a small shuddering breath. Benny pressed against your back, his hands roaming over your body wherever Santi’s wasn’t.

Your body was already feeling on fire, like every touch was electric. The way Benny’s lips moved over the shell of your ear as Santi worked your clothes off. You were turned into Benny’s arms. He chuckled as he looked down at your wrecked face. “You look absolutely amazing,” he cooed softly, something you didn’t know he was capable of.

Your head turned as Benny kissed along your neck and you saw Will standing with his pants pulled down to his knees and cock in hand. You swallowed thickly as Santi kissed up your thighs and over your mound, his fingers tracing lines up your legs.

“Fuck I need to taste you,” Santi mumured as he pushed your hips a bit wider. You groaned and leaned back against Benny who held you up and slid his hands up under your shirt to grope at your breasts. You turned to see Will still stroking himself quietly at the sight before him. Watching you become totally undone was intoxicating.

Another pair of hands were on your body, taking over groping your breasts as Benny pulled your shirt up over your head. You could barely register that you were completely nude in front of your team as Santi’s tongue ran over your folds, groaning at the taste. When his lips wrapped around your bundle of nerves, the third pair of hands were gently caressing and rolling your nipples.

A blinding hot streak ran through your body, straight down to your toes. The way Santi licked into you causing your thighs to tremble. You managed to look down just in time to see Frankie’s head kissing at the swell of your breast.

The more their hands were on you, the faster their movements became, the needier they seemed. The burning ache in your body only seemed to grow as Benny gently guided you backward until you fell onto his lap. At some point he had released his erection. Santi crawled to try to reattach his lips to your core but Benny was quicker and slipped himself into your soaking folds with barely any hesitation.

You cried out as Benny filled you and started to thrust up into you, his hips snapping against your ass. Santi groaned. “Benny you fuckin’ cabron,” Santi muttered and Benny just chuckled in your ear as he nibbled on it. 

“Babygirl, what feels better, Santi’s mouth or my cock? Hm?” Benny asked as his eyes bore into Santi who glared at him but palmed his own length anyways. Frankie moved closer and tried to kiss the other side of your face.

Your mouth was flopping like a fish and you couldn’t create enough saliva to speak. Instead you whined as Santi kissed at the inside of your knee, his hand more furious on his cock now. Will was standing close by, just watching everything but focusing on how wrecked your face was as his brother pounded into you.

Frankie was gentle but groaning against your skin as he tried to capture your mouth into a heated kiss. You kissed him wantonly, your moans filling his mouth and he greedily swallowed every sound. “Hermosa, please take my cock,” Frankie moaned into your mouth and without opening your eyes you nodded.

Benny continued to thrust up into you in haste as Frankie climbed over the arm of the couch and stood so that he could line his cock up. He ran it along your bottom lip, soaking him in your saliva and waiting for you to open before thrusting into you tentatively. You swallowed around him and he groaned at the sensation of your warmth around him.

Benny kept at you, thrusting harder and faster until you were crying out around Frankie’s cock. Frankie and Benny released their loads into you at the same time and you were close to your own but Benny softened and you lost the peak that was building.

You whined and Santi slapped Benny’s thigh. “Let me at her,” he said while standing up. Benny gently lifted you off of him and you whined at the loss of contact. You let go of Frankie’s cock with your mouth after you had cleaned him of all of his cum. He leaned down and gave you a soft kiss, licking into your mouth slowly and groaning at the taste of himself before he was helping you lie down on the couch. Frankie moved himself off the couch as Santi moved to hover over you and plunged his cock right into you.

Your back arched off the couch as you reached up and grabbed at Santi’s shoulders. “Fuck!” you cried out as Santi fucked into you with reckless abandon. You were soaked between your arousal and Benny’s cum and it made Santi twitch hard as he fucked you mercilessly into the couch. The girth of him stretched you differently than Benny had and you mewled and moaned at the sensations, letting Santi’s name fall from your lips like a chant.

“Please! I need to cum!” you screamed as a burning heat grew in the pit of your stomach and threatened to overtake your entire body. Your begging encouraged Santi as the other three looked on. Benny was already hard and leaking again and when your eyes met his, his hand stroked so hard he came all over the floor with a loud moan. Santi leaned over and bit at your collarbone, causing you to cry out as you clenched down around him, hard.

Your entire body was writhing and pulsating as you came harder than you had in a long time around Santi. That put him over the edge and with a few more solid, hard thrusts into you, he stilled and pushed further into you to spill into you. Within moments you felt the dripping between your thighs and you moaned quietly.

Santi leaned down to capture your moan and his lips slid against yours as he thrusted carefully into you, the burn in his body already growing again. “Pope c’mon man,” Frankie said quietly as he moved to pull Santi off of you. “Gotta give someone else a turn,” Frankie patted Santi’s shoulder firmly as you tried to catch your breath. Santi leaned down for another soft kiss before pulling slowly out of you.

Your body jolted at the sudden loss and both men stopped to stare. “Fuck,” Frankie muttered, causing both Benny and Will to move around to see their view. The cum was dripping steadily from your still fluttering cunt and every pair of eyes was mesmerized by the sight.

“Baby you are making a mess,” Santi said, wanting to lean in and clean you up but you put your hand out as a gesture for all of them to give you a minute. Your breath finally calmed down enough for you to be able to respond.

“I…. did…. nothing,” you panted and chuckled but the laugh made the cum dribble out of you even more and you moaned quietly at the sensation of two of your teammates cum dripping from you. Will’s nose twitched as his hand continued to slowly work his cock. The burn inside him was growing but he was a patient man. Always had been.

You lifted your head to look at them and gave a weak smile. They all looked at you with lust-blown eyes but Santi and Frankie were the ones to give you a smile back. “You okay?” Santi asked, his hand gently grazing your ankle in a caressing motion.

You nodded and looked at him. “Yeah. I think. For now,” you chuckled but soon felt your body heat up again. It was a dull ache but you tried to sit up to quelch it. Santi and Frankie both reached out for your arms to help you sit up. “I think maybe I should go shower,” you mentioned and they both nodded before standing up. Their cocks were at eye level for a moment and you felt your mouth water and wanting them both in your mouth at the same time.

They helped you up and your legs definitely felt like jello. You nearly crumbled and Santi and Frankie looked at each other with worry then looked at you as they tried to hold you up. “I got her,” a stoic low voice came from beside you as Will moved closer. He leaned over and wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted you up with ease.

You giggled quietly but having his warm body pressed against your was making the fire within you grow again. You tucked your head into his neck and breathed in his scent. You couldn’t help the way your lips pouted and you kissed gently along the skin of his neck. He groaned low in his throat.

“Sweetheart, please,” his voice pleaded before he was in the hall and pressing your back up against the wall slowly. His hands grabbed at you to hold you better as his hips pressed into you.

“Will, please,” you whimpered when his teeth found the side of your neck and sank in. You felt the way he growled against your skin and the fire was spreading wildly through your veins again.

Will grunted as he pulled himself back just enough to stroke as his cock and line himself up. With a slow and steady push, he impaled you and filled you. The girth of him stretched you but the slight sting of pain gave way to even more pleasure as he started to thrust.

Each thrust earned him a soft moan from your lips and he couldn’t help but kiss you. His hands were pawing at your chest, twisting your nipples and he watched as your face contorted in pleasure and you cried out against him. “Fuck! Please! Harder!” you begged and didn’t care who heard you. Besides, it was high time it was Will’s turn. The man was the quiet type, strong and sturdy but with his lack of talking in many of the group settings, you weren’t sure of his opinion of you.

But as he pistoned in and out of him, faster and harder with each snap of his hips up into you, you were pretty sure you knew where he stood in his opinion on you. “Fuck, so tight,” he muttered against your lips as he kissed you bruisingly. A clash of teeth and tongues and lips. It was messy and needy but you wanted more.

Will grabbed at your back, his large hands splayed over your now hot skin as he pulled you away from the wall. He stood in the middle of the hall, his shoulders pulled back as his hands snuck down to try holding you under your legs. You held him around the neck until he had a good hold of you again and it was then that he rocked your world even harder.

He fucked up into you with a relentless pace, hitting that spot within you with ease, his cock moving along the shared juices of yours, his brother’s and Santi’s. But all he could focus on was how wrecked your face looked. Your jaw was slack, seemingly permanently so, your eyes rolling back as your head lolled back in pleasure.

Wanton cries were ripped from your chest as he grunted and held you up. Suddenly you felt a second pair of hands come to your ass and massage the flesh. A scratchy beard appeared at your back as sloppy kisses were given to the skin there. “Que linda,” Santi’s voice came in a growl as he watched you get fucked by Will.

“Santi,” you said breathlessly and Will fucked you harder to get your focus back on him. He captured your lips in a heavy kiss, one that forced your mouth into an “o” shape around his tongue as he greedily licked into you.

Santi was busy watching Will’s cock pump in and out of you, his hands still massaging at your ass. His thumb rimmed the hole of tight muscle, moving with each movement that Will was forcing on your body and you moaned a bit louder. Santi looked up at you. “Do you want to be filled, querida?” he asked and he waited until you nodded.

When you did, you mewled as his thumb pressed against the tight hole, slipping one knuckle in. You cried out even at the small intrusion, the way even just that little motion filled you even more. “More!” you cried out and you heard both men curse under their breaths.

Will fucked you relentlessly still as Santi pulled his thumb out, to which you whined in protest, just so he could spit all over his hand. He used his free hand to try to spread your ass cheeks a bit. “Will, man, stop for a second,” Santi commanded and Will obeyed, holding you down onto his cock.

Santi moved one finger into you and you couldn’t help the pained groan that came from you. “Good?” Santi checked in and when you nodded and bit your lip, he started moving his finger within you. He looked over your shoulder at Will and nodded and Will resumed moving.

You choked out a sound as your entire lower body started to clench up. “Oh, she’s close,” Santi praised, his smirk so evident just in the tone of his voice. He leaned down and bit at the soft flesh of your ass at the same that Will leaned into to bite at your collarbone. The dual biting did you in.

You cried out as they fucked you through your orgasm, both sets of muscles clenching down around them. Your lower stomach fluttered and your chest heaved as your mouth lay open in a pant, your eyes screwed shut. Will was close behind and fucked you through your high until he reached his own. When he pushed up into you, stilled with a groan, Santi stopped moving too.

You finally caught your breath and felt yourself come back to reality. Your body was spent, completely but also completely sated. Will carefully pulled you off of his softening cock and the moment your feet hit the ground, all you could feel was all of their cum slipping down your thighs.

Santi moved with you both and released his hand from you and saw you dripping. “Fuck, you’re a mess,” he muttered in a groan. You nodded, your arms still wrapped around Will’s shoulders. Will grunted and wrapped his arms around your waist, bringing you to your tiptoes so he could walk you back towards the bathroom.

Once in the room, Will and Santi worked together to strip you down, one moving and the other acting as your balancing stabilizer. Your eyes were heavy and your body felt like it was made of jello as you attempted coherent thoughts. You were naked, in a room with two men who you found extremely attractive. One of whom was leading you into the shower that had at some point been turned on.

“You got it?” Will asked softly as his hand lingered on your lower back as you held yourself up with your arm against the shower wall. You nodded slowly, your head feeling heavy. You let the warmth of the water just cascade over your back and tried to let it soothe you.

You tried to let your mind relax but there was a burning ache that felt it was far off in the distance. You could hear Santi and Will talking quietly but the roar of your heart in your ears combined with the water rushing over you made them also seem far away.

As you slowly started to wash up, your soapy hand brushing over your very sensitive clit, you yelped as a bright flame lit within you. “Fuck!”

Will and Santi immediately rushed up and opened the curtain to see you rubbing at your clit furiously. “What is it?! Are you okay?!” Santi asked in a hurried, worried tone.

“I need - fuck! - I need,” you whined as you squeezed your breast with your other soapy hand and felt your nipple immediately stiffen. Will was first to step into the shower behind you. His large hands came over your breasts as he held you against him.

“What do you need? Tell me. We’re here,” he spoke lowly in your ear, nibbling at the flesh as Santi pulled the curtain a bit on the opposite side to watch. 

“I need to cum!” you screamed as one of Will’s hands came down behind you and his thick fingers ran through your folds. The fire within you was burning brighter by the second and it was almost painful.

“How do you want to cum? On my fingers or my cock?” Will asked and Santi chewed his lip as he watched you writhe against Will.

“Your face. I need your tongue on me. Now!” With your command, Will turned you and dropped to his knees without hesitation. Santi reached out and put his arm up behind your back so you wouldn’t fall.

Will shoved his face against your cunt, licked a broad stripe through your folds before his mouth closed over your clit. You whined out and Santi quickly slipped himself into the shower behind you. His hands wrapped around your breasts and tweaked your nipples. Your head fell back against his shoulder as the warm water cascaded over your chest and stomach.

Your hips moved against Will’s face as his mouth attached to your clit, his tongue licking and flicking as if you were a hard candy. His hands remained on your hips and he used just his tongue to work you up and within a minute there was a gush coming from you and spilling all over his face.

Santi peeked over your shoulder. “Holy shit baby. You just soaked him and not from the shower water,” Santi told you and turned to kiss your cheek. He was oddly proud and smirked against your wet skin as he whispered more praises into your ear, letting your body come back.

Will stood up and let his face get wet from the shower before he held onto your hips and kissed your chest softly, letting the water run down his face. He stood up and wiped the water off with one hand before looking at your blissed out face. “Are you back?” he asked and when you nodded slowly, both men looked at each other and chuckled. “Are you good? Like do you need more or-?”

You shook your head with a blissed out smile on your face. “I think it’s gone,” you told him and you felt Santi kiss along your cheek and down to your neck. “Though if you keep doing that Santi, I might not ever want you to stop,” you laughed weakly and moved your head to the side to allow him more room.

“Who says I want to stop querida?” he mumbled against your skin and you hummed contentedly. Will took the opportunity to actually wash your body with soft, gentle touches. He washed his own face then looked at you and Santi together and felt a new kind of pull in his chest.

“We could do this again… right?” Will asked softly and both you and Santi opened your eyes and straightened up to look at him. You chewed your lower lip and your head turned to look between the two men as the shower continuously rained down on all of you.

When you didn’t speak, mostly from not being able to find the words, Santi spoke instead. “Yeah man. I mean, if she’s down for it, then I’m down for it. I like you Will, you know that. And you,” he turned to lean in to kiss your cheek again. “I don’t think I could get enough of you now that I’ve had you,” he told you and nuzzled into your neck as his arms wrapped around you again. Will stepped forward and wrapped his arms around both your and Santi’s shoulders together and the three of you sat like that until the water ran cold.

[nothere-notthere-nowhere]

Oblivious

Word count: 1509

Genre: fluffy as fuck

Pairing: Wanda x Fem!Reader

Warnings: very brief mention of trauma (nonspecified), let me know if I need to add any

Summary: When Wanda goes on a date with Vision, you’re left to question your feelings while Natasha laughs at you.

A/N: Hi, this is my first piece I’m posting. I’ve been a long time reader on this hellsite but this is the first time I’m actually posting my own writing. I’m open to feedback! Forgive any mistakes, I did not edit this :)

You weren’t necessarily a jealous person. Well, you had been, but you moved past it. You learned that you didn’t, and shouldn’t, be possessive of your friends. It was hard, coming into a new place and wanting the pretty girl with long brown hair to spend all her time with you. Especially since you’d never had a friend before.

But now, you were questioning your sanity.

Wanda had announced to you that she was going on a date. Your heart sunk and something close to rage was burning through your veins. You couldn’t understand why! Wanda had talked about Vision before and you always had to remind yourself that she was friends with the other Avengers too. It had never bothered you this much.

But you had to come up with a bullshit excuse as to why you couldn’t gush about what she would wear or where they would go, because you thought your head was going to explode. You knew Wanda was upset by that, but you needed to figure this out.

“I seriously don’t understand what’s going on!” You pulled at your hair in frustration. “I mean seriously, I thought I’d worked through all the trauma and shit. Like Wanda’s not even my only friend. But she was talking about him and I got so mad, Nat, like so, so mad.”

Natasha snorted at you, watching you pace with an amused smirk.

“For real, like, am I a terrible person?” You paused your pacing to stare at her in horror. “I have no claim over her and I’m acting like a-a possessive a-and controlling piece of shit!”

“Okay, calm down.” Natasha told you. She patted the couch beside her for you to sit but you’re too busy overthinking. 

“I can’t calm down! I should be happy for her. But I’m just so angry and I don’t even know why! Vision’s not a terrible person. I mean technically he’s a robot, which is a little odd but-”

“Y/N, relax.” Natasha stands and grips your shoulders, forcing you to look at her. “You have a crush.”

“On Vision?” Your face squished up in confusion. “No, Nat, I’ve talked to him like twice.”

“No, idiot,” She sighs heavily. “On Wanda.”

“No-” You start but then your eyes widen and your jaw drops comically.

Natasha barks out a laugh at your horrified look, only gaining volume as you burn bright red. Clint walks into the living room, taking in the scene and furrowing his brows in suspicion.

“What’s going on here?” He asks, taking in the way the gears are turning in your head.

“I’m gay.” You say confusedly. 

“Yeah?” Clint looks like he’s waiting for you to continue. “Wait is this supposed to be news? I thought everyone knew.”

Natasha is overcome with another wave of laughter and you scratch your head lightly. It made sense, you supposed. You had never taken an interest in boys but you had figured that was because of your upbringing. They don’t exactly give assassins in training a lesson on feelings.

“Oh my god!” Natasha shoves your shoulder lightly. “How are you so oblivious?”

“Well, we’re friends.” You stutter out, still confused. “I thought this was normal!”

“Do you feel like that towards me? Or anyone else?” Natasha rolls her eyes.

“But you’re, like, old.” You dismiss, before squeaking out, “I mean, not old, Nat, but like, Wanda and I are the same age, you know? You’re not old! But you’re not as much a friend as like…. An older sister?”

Natasha’s eyes soften, the corners of her lips quirking up just slightly. You can see the words meant a lot to her, even if they were to cover up an insult. It was true though, Natasha had always had your back. She’d shown you the ropes, made sure you were comfortable, and she was always there for advice. Like the big sister you never had.

“Well, kid,” Clint broke the moment, “now that you’ve had your gay awakening, maybe you should tell Wanda how you feel.”

“What?” Your stomach lurched. “How’d you know-”

“The two of you are inseparable. You literally melt when she’s around.” Your cheeks burn a little at his words. “Seriously, kid. For someone who was trained as a spy, you don’t have an ounce of subtlety.”

“Well, she’s with Vision now anyway.” You can’t help the jealousy and almost sadness that twinge your stomach. “It doesn’t really matter.” 

“I wouldn’t be too sure of that.” Bucky muttered as he passed through the living room.

“Woah, how does everyone know about this but me?” You ask incredulously. Bucky shakes his head at you lightly, a small smile on his face before he leaves the room. 

“Seriously, guys,” You glare at Nat and Clint, “I just figured out I’m gay. Can we at least pretend like it wasn’t obvious.”

“If it’s any consolation, I don’t think Ms. Maximoff knows.” FRIDAY’s voice only makes you groan. 

Nat and Clint begin to laugh at the AI’s teasing but they’re cut off by Wanda storming through the living room. Her head was down, a slight red glow about her, as she passed the group standing by the couches. 

“Wanda?” You call lightly, but she doesn’t stop.

“Ms. Maximoff did not enjoy our date, it seems.” Vision slides through the wall, scaring the shit out of you.

“Stop doing that! And wiat, what?” You question, clutching your chest where your heart was racing. 

“She does not want to be with me.” Visions tells you simply. “She is upset. I do not know why.”

You stand there, wracking your brain for possible explanations. She had been so excited for this date. She’d talked about it for hours the day before, much to your annoyance. So, why would she have been so upset?

“Y/N,” Natasha snapped in front of your face. “Go after her.” She looked exasperated.

“Right!” You stumbled over your own feet racing after your best friend.

But you couldn’t bring yourself to knock on the door. Now that you knew you liked her, it all made sense. Of course you’d be jealous of Vision being able to take her on a real date. So, you stood at her door, trying to figure out what exactly you were going to say to make her feel better, if you even could.

“Y/N, come in already.” Wanda’s soft voice made your heart flutter. Your cheeks burned as you pushed open the door.

Wanda was sitting on her bed, leaning up against her headboard, knees pulled into her chest. She looked nice, even though her brows were furrowed the way they were when she was thinking hard about something.

“What happened?” You asked her, moving to sit on the bed. Your body was tense. Part of you was happy she wasn’t going to date Vision, but that didn’t mean you wanted to see her upset.

“We got as far as the zoo parking lot when I realized that I couldn’t do it.” Wanda fiddled with the crystal on her necklace. “It took going out with Vision to realize that I’ll never be able to feel anything for anyone else.”

“Anyone else?” You questioned. “Wanda, you’ll find someone. We’re still young! You have plenty of time to-”

“No, Y/N,” She gave a small, nearly sad, smile. “I found someone.”

“Oh,” the words startle you. Wanda had never mentioned someone else. The two of you were supposed to be best friends. She found someone and she didn’t tell you?

“It just took half a date with someone else for me to realize that what I feel for her isn’t platonic.”

“What do you mean?” Your eyes were wide as you searched hers for something, anything, readable. The only other girls she was friends with, that you knew, were Natasha and maybe Pepper. But that wouldn’t really make sense.

“I don’t want Vision. I don’t want anyone, really, except you.” You can hear a slight shake in her voice. “I don’t know why it took so long to realize this but, I don’t just have love for you as a friend. I really like you, Y/N.”

“Oh,” You nod. “I’m sorry. This is just a lot. Natasha just told me I was gay like twenty minutes ago.”

Wanda giggled at you. “I guess we’re both a little oblivious, huh?”

“Can I kiss you?” You blurt out, staring at her. “Sorry, uh, let me… It took you going on a date with Vision for me to realize I like you too, or, well, Natasha pointed it out. I was so angry. I thought about beating him up.”

“Y/N,” Wanda pulls you from your rambling. 

“Can I kiss you?” you ask again, too focused on her to be embarrassed. 

Wanda nods, fighting the big grin on her face. She cups your face gently, pulling you to her. Her lips are soft against your own and her hands are warm, her skin smooth. Your head is spinning as you lean into her touch.

Clint was right, you do melt.