#lowkey sick but thinking about them helped me get through it

[steelbingus]

Uninvited guest 🎭🐦‍⬛

[dwaekkicidal]

𝖪𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝖻𝖾𝗋: 'Late Nights' ༄࿔ Y.J.

⤷ Hatefucking | Hair Pulling | Spit

♱ word count: 1.5k

♱ warnings: fem!reader, reader is lowkey an ass at the beginning for no reason, sorta brat taming, he calls reader a bitch like twice i think, spanking, p in v, rough sex, hair pulling, spit, fingering, creampie

slightly proofread <3

Kinktober Schedule

DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!

“Listen. The faster you admit that you’re just angry because you think I’m hot, the faster we will get along and get this presentation done.”

“And the faster you hit puberty and grow a few inches, the faster you’ll get a woman other than your mother to love you.” The immature insult was enough to make him angry but bringing his mother into this childish back and forth the two of you shared seemed to be his limit.

“Excuse me?” The anger was evident and you couldn’t help but crane your neck backwards to get a good look at him. When you were met with his sharp eyes and an ugly scowl you couldn’t hold back your smirk.

“Awww did I hit a nerve? Was it ‘cause I brought up your mommy?” His chest rose as he took a deep breath, trying his best to calm down, but you only fueled the fire further. “Or was it the comment about you getting no pussy cause your dick is too small?” You fake pouted at him to mock him further and you couldn’t help but laugh when his eye twitched in response.

“Grow a pair. We have shit to do-” Before you can finish your sentence, you’re pulled to your feet and shoved into the conference table. The force of it knocks the breath out of your lungs and you cry out in pain.

“What the fuck?!?” You squeak as he holds you down, using his arms to grab a hold of your nape and your hip to keep you still below him.

“I’m sick of your attitude. Being nice to you obviously doesn’t work so I guess I’ll just have to fuck the sense into you.” You aren’t given the chance to react or answer before he’s pulling your dress up and pooling it above your ass.

“There’s always some bitching with you. I help you with your paperwork, you bitch at me. I cover for your ass when you turn in said paperwork late, you bitch at me. I just- can't. Win.” The hand on your hip comes down on your ass cheek once, then twice.

You gasp and jerk in his hold at the sting, and he doesn't bother massaging the flesh there. You don’t deserve that. Instead, his hands move down to your panties and slide them down to your ankles, the cool air of the conference room making shivers run through your body.

“And look at this wet pussy.” He scoffs and his hand smacks your other ass cheek with enough force to send you jumping forward. A quiet sound of annoyance comes from his throat at your body crawling up the table, and he quickly pulls you back into him, leaning his chest against your back.

It happens before you realize it. Your neck is covered in dark hickeys and you’re now lying on your back. Your hands are tied together against the small of your back, and are forcing your back to arch just the perfect amount. Both your and his clothes lay scattered across on the floor, and on a few of the chairs, but neither of you care about that.

You can’t be bothered with it! Not when he’s fucking into you like the world is ending. A loud plap plap plap meeting your ears as his balls smack against your ass. The same ass that is unevenly red on each cheek, thanks to the mean slaps Jeongin had rained upon them.

But he doesn’t care about that either. All he can think about is the way your cunt wraps so tightly around him. Or the way your chin hits your chest from the grip he has on your hair. His excuse for the uncomfortable angle being: “If I’m going to fuck the spite out of your body, you are going to watch every last inch of it.”

And so you did! With an aching scalp and a forcibly arched back that makes him hit all the more deeper, ultimately causing you to clench harder around him and causing him to fuck into you even harder in response.

“What happened to all that shit talking now, huh?” One of his big hands comes down on your tit, leaving a stinging feel in its wake that makes you cry out. “Where’d all that attitude go? I really just needed to fuck some sense into you, huh?”

You only squeal in response, filling his chest with pride and causing him to thrust harshly to get another reaction out of you. The reaction he gets is exactly what he wanted; your eyes rolling into the back of your skull and your legs shaking aggressively. He can feel your orgasm coming on, and he takes the chance to push your buttons even further.

His hips slow drastically, to the point where he’s just barely grinding into you, and the hand in your hair tightens its hold and forces you to look up at him. His eyes are narrowed as they look down at you, and the sharp look he gives you does nothing but makes you clench around him harder.

“Are you done being a bitch? Huh? Can I let you cum now?” You groan and dig your nails into the papers under your ass. You try to frown at him but the grip in your hair has your face in a permanent state of wincing. So you opt for your second, arguably less logical, choice.

He watches your throat flex and before he can question it, a glob of spit flies from your mouth and lands on his cheek. It takes a second to process and his hand loosens its grip in the process, but you can tell the second it does by the way his eye twitches.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” The look on his face should make your skin crawl, but it only makes a shit eating grin spread across your face. You manage to break lose of your confinements and you yank his hand out of your hair, pushing him off of you and forcing him to pull out. You laugh as he looks up at you with wide eyes, cock dripping with your wetness and jaw dropped to the floor.

You take matters into your own hands and slide your fingers through your folds, sliding your fingertips onto your clit and rubbing circles into it. His eyes flicker down to your cunt before snapping back up to stare into yours as your spit slowly drips down his cheek.

“Yeah? You think that’s funny?” Despite his anger, his cock twitches in interest. 

“Yes, actually. Fuck you for-” 

His hand is tangled in your hair again before you can finish your sentence and his free hand shoves your hand out of the way, replacing your fingers on your clit with his thumb. He sinks 3 fingers into you while he runs his thumb back and forth roughly, occasionally even pushing down against your bundle of nerves meanly.

“...Yeah. ‘Cause god forbid you take two seconds to answer my question.”

“Jeongin-”

“Nah, shut it. You want to act like a greedy bitch, I’ll treat you like one.” His fingers curl into your gspot and rub into it aggressively, making you hunch over and dig your nails into his forearm. He growls at the sting and cranes your neck backwards with his other hand. Then he leans forward again, hovering his face inches above yours and forcing you to hold eye contact with him.

You watch the smirk spread across his face as your jaw drops from a particularly rough thrust of his fingers. The gears turn faster in his head than they do in yours, and you barely process his lips puckering before you feel the glob of spit already landing on your tongue.

Your voice cracks as you cum suddenly, legs squeezing together and back arching your chest into his. He responds with an evil cackle and continues to curl his fingers, fucking you through your orgasm. Before you’re able to come down from it properly, he’s slapping his cock against your folds, making sure to grind his tip into your clit as he does so.

The feeling makes you shiver, and you have to bite your lip from moaning too loud when he slides back inside. He bottoms out instantly and starts to fuck you roughly again, his hand finally falling from your hair in favor of gripping your hips harshly instead.

He looks absolutely delectable like this; his eyes lidded and looking down at you, his pretty, plump lips caught between his teeth, and his cock pummeling into your cunt. He continues to smile even as his eyebrows furrow and his thrusts lose their rhythm.

It doesn’t take long after that for him to cum, his big hands holding you tightly in place as he does so. That smile finally falters once he’s done emptying himself into you, your gummy walls milking him completely dry.

“Mmmmm. You finally did something useful, baby.” The pet name drips with a mixture of venom and attitude, but the way he looks at you combats that of a man who just watched you hang the moon. “Let’s see if you can continue to be useful, yeah?”

You don’t know what time it is anymore, but the way he licks lips lets you know you’re in for a late night.

Taglists: (red=can't be tagged)

@valkyriexo @lunearta @jabmastersupriseee @rylea08

@yaorzu-blog @amararosesblog @jiminssluttyminx @clemissleepy

@miss-daisy04 @kittyxnoa @dwaekkiiracha @bubblerizz

@mariteez @fun-fanfics @honeyybbuubblleess @kittycatkrissa

@nicora04 @chuuyaobsessed

@dreamingaboutjisung @everythingboutkpop @velvetmoonlght @4l17h4

@felixsangelicfreckles

[apollodarling-writes]

Babycakes can you pretty please write a male y/n x yan!ghostface where y/n doesn’t die in the end and lowkey falls in love 🤭 (also pretty please make ghostface a praiser 🙏🏽)

FAMOUS LAST WORDS

yan! dbd! ghostface x gen jockey! male! reader

cws : yandere themes, a bit of dry humping, praise, creampie, choking, rough sex, kinda ?? handjob (reader receiving), orgasm control, knife play, anal, pronebone, dubcon??? , mentions of public masturbation, thigh fucking, danny is a tease, reader cleans his blood off of the bowie so blood play but ingestion??? , cum eating i guess but the reader is made to clean up his cum from danny’s gloves.

the fog that hung between the trees was particularly thick this trial. the red forest was known for being hard to navigate in some areas due to the low lighting, and the natural fog scattered throughout the landscape was of no help either. you were unsure if one of the survivors offered the entity a bottle of murky reagent, but it had become harder to see than it already was. you suppose you couldn’t complain as it made you harder to track, and thus it was easier to hide.

your group had completed two generators without a single person being hooked. anxiety knotted your stomach as you mulled over what the killer was up to. was the killer waiting for your group to finish the generators and then camp the gates? were they watching from the shadows and getting some sort of sick pleasure from watching the lot of you squirm? the answer to these questions was beyond your reach, and you knew that all you could do was focus on the task at hand. if you struck the wires too early, you would blow up the generator and the killer would surely know your location if they didn’t already.

a chill runs the length of your spine, gooseflesh raising the hairs on your body. you stop repairing the generator for a moment, the feeling of being watched prevalent as your swivel your head to find the source of the gaze. you’d been in this realm long enough to abide by your instincts. your gaze flits through the trees, your heart thumping in your chest as you are unable locate the source. chalking it up to the quietness of the trial, you busy your hands with firing the wires of the generator, successfully sparking one portion. you sift through your toolbox, searching through old and rusted scraps for something to replace one of the broken parts.

a hand suddenly grips the back of your neck, hoisting you off the ground. a hand muffles your cry of protest, bending your front over the generator.

“shhh… just be quiet now, baby.” a muffled voice all but pants, their chest pressing against your back as they lean forward to whisper in your ear. “i’ve finally got you to myself….”

you recognize that voice — the ghostface. realization washes over you; the quietness of the trial, feeling watched, the lack of a terror radius…. it all made sense now. your tongue darts out to lick the leathery material of his gloved palm in a feeble attempt to get him to release you.

“be patient now,” the ghostface groans, “we’ll get there, pretty boy.”

the ghostface maneuvers his fingers to grip your wrists, pinning them behind your back while grinding his half-hard cock into the meat of your ass. you squirm at his touch, feeling disgusted at the desperate panting the man behind you let out.

“i know you’ve been thinking about this,” the masked man grunts, his breath hitching. “i’ve seen you fuck yourself in trials before — did’ya think i wouldn’t know?”

shame and embarrassment wash over you, a quiet whimper leaving your lips as a hand snakes around to palm you through your bottoms. “n—not here… please—“

“god, look at how cute you are,” the ghostface coos, his gloved hand slipping past your waistband and cupping your length. “keep begging like that and i won’t be able to control myself.”

“i’m not—“

“ah-ah, quiet now… don’t you wanna be good for me, baby?” he purrs, your hips bucking as his thumb brushes against your cockhead. ”mmm, so sensitive. i think im gonna have fun with you…”

the ghostface’s hand tugs down your pants, your protests going unheard as you hear his robes shift. his cock slides between your thighs — the intrusion unwelcome and unfamiliar.

“stop… i cant — we can’t… not here.” you panic, your gaze flitting through the areas you could see. god forbid any of the other survivors witness this and get the wrong idea. you’d be considered a fucking traitor. maybe they’d even think you were selling them out. or, shit, what if they thought you were slutting yourself out to survive?

“shut the fuck up,” he groans, his cock brushing against your shaft. “just sit there and look pretty for me, ‘kay?”

your mouth immediately closes, figuring it would be better to just let him have his way and hopefully all five gens will be done by the time he finishes. your body is tense with shame and guilt, your thighs clenched around the masked man’s length in an attempt to get him off faster.

the ghostface spits in his hand, wrapping his fingers around you again, and pumps you in time with each thrust. with each movement, you find yourself melting into his touch, biting your lip to keep yourself quiet. he was too good at this, and he fucking knew.

“y’like that, baby?” you could hear the smirk in his tone.

“fuck you.“ you grit out, hating that you were becoming aroused at such an invasive, disgusting act.

“oh, i plan to, little bunny.”

the masked man removes his hand just as you were on the cusp of your orgasm, a soft whine leaving your lips. your cockhead is flushed an angry red, beads of precum now smeared along your shaft. “why’d you—“

you suck in a breath as a finger slowly dips into your ass, curling into your g-spot. the feeling was foreign, and it hurt like a bitch, but fuck did it feel good. “yeah? just like that, pretty boy?”

he slowly pumps his finger, careful not to hurt you as he works up to another one; his fingers scissor and stretch, curling into your prostate. before you knew it, the man had gotten three fingers in you, your legs shaking and your whimpers increasing in volume as you come closer and closer to your climax.

“fuck — ‘m gonna cum.” you pant, your back arching as you try to fuck yourself on his fingers. through a lust-induced haze, you hear a faint chuckle before the sensation you crave eludes you. the ghostface removes his digits, your cock twitching and aching for release.

“oh, you poor thing. were you gonna cum?” the man murmurs teasingly, his own erection throbbing beneath the layers of his robes. he eagerly grips the back of your neck and ushers you on your stomach behind the generator, lifting his clothing just enough to carefully push inside of you.

“y’so fuckin’ tight..!” he hisses, releasing your wrists to press down on your lower back. your fingers find purchase in the dirt of the forest floor as the ghostface slowly thrusts into you, your gummy walls hugging the man’s cock so deliciously.

with each thrust, you found it harder and harder to control your volume. with the way the man had angled himself, the tip of his cock bumped against your g-spot damn near constantly. your stomach tightened as your release began to approach once more, desperate whimpers and whines leaving your lips as tears pricked your eyes.

“i’m gonna cum – ‘m gonna fuckin’ cum…” you whine, “please, i need more!”

the killer groans in ecstacy at your desperation, his cock twitching inside of you as one hand wraps around your throat, lifting you from the dirt. “gonna have to fuck you more often, yeah? youre doin’ so fuckin’ good for me, baby.”

his digits tighten around your throat, cutting off your air supply as your jaw slackens at the brutal pace. a gurgled moan parts your lips, your face growing red from the lack of oxygen. mercifully, he releases his grip on you, but is quick it with the cold steel of his bowie knife.

the ghostface snakes an arm around your midsection, pumping your cock in time with each mind-numbing thrust. you hold yourself up as the blade trails along your flesh, drawing thin lines of blood. it seemed that the man was getting off on the pain he inflicted, his thrust becoming harder, faster.

the blade trails up, pressing against your lips. “open up, baby. gotta clean up your mess.” the ghostface breathily groans, his thrusts growing sloppy.

your lips part, the blade resting on your tongue as your lips close around it. it tastes like iron, your own blood coating your tongue as your cock twitches in the killer’s fist. ropes of cum spill onto the leather of your assailant’s glove, a long moan erupting from your throat as your vision blurs with tears. your hips buck into his grasp, the killer never once stopping. your mind melts into a delicious quiet, the only thing you’re able to focus on is how fucking good it feels.

“fuck — you feel so fucking good, bunny.” he groans, sheathing his blade and replacing it with the cum stained leather. “be a good boy and clean off my glove, yeah?”

the killer pants as you mindlessly obey his order, the bitter taste seemingly only serving to arouse you further. you lap at the cum on his glove while the killer fucks into you with fervor, breathy groans leaving him as the chill of his mask presses into your shoulder. the ghostface weakly thrusts into you as his climax washes over him. his cock twitches inside of you, cum painting your insides as he slowly comes down from his high.

the man is quick to fix his attire as the exit gate sounds, leaving you breathless as cum drips down your thighs, the scent of dirt and sex staining your clothing. with shaky legs, you pull up your bottoms and quietly mull over what just happened as you make your way to the exit gate on the opposite side of the map.

[dovveri]

doctor's advice

synopsis: y/n decides to go to the leading plastic surgery clinic in korea bcs she's sick of feeling the way she does about how she looks. she catches the attention of dr. im nayeon, the head of this practice who thinks y/n is way too pretty to warrant any of those feelings she has about herself.

warnings: this is lowkey just smut oops, fingering, oral, body image issues - so a lil angsty in the beginning

w/c: 4.2k

a/n: this one is kinda all over the place and i lwk hate it but i needed to finish it so i could get over this writing block like i did kindaaa have a vision for it but i gave up halfway and just turned to sex which is why it doesn't flow well LMAO but hey! doctor nayeon is hot so!

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

"can i get your full name please?"

"y/n l/n."

the receptionist smiles at you, typing something into her computer and handing you a form, "alright y/n, just fill in this form and someone will be with you in a bit."

you nod, accepting the form and taking a seat in the waiting room of the plastic surgery clinic you were currently at.

you scan over the details of the form. most of it was just demographic information, asking you your age, gender, a little about your daily activities, whether or not you actively exercised, all the simple questions.

you were feeling a little desperate when you finally decided to make a first consultation at the most well-renowned plastic surgery clinic in seoul. you had been thinking about doing it for a while now, but lately the feeling of disgust at being in your own body was overwhelming.

your parents didn’t understand why you’d want to do anything to the body they brought into this world. your friends thought plastic surgery was an excessive response and that it could potentially be dangerous. but none of them understood what it felt like to wake up everyday and be reminded that you were stuck in this body, the fear that no-one will ever be able to love you and that you’d consequently end up alone for the rest of your pitiful life.

your grip on the pen grows a little tighter as you remind yourself why you’re here.

you feel a set of eyes on you as you’re getting to the end of the form, so you look up, locking eyes with a gorgeous woman in a clean white lab coat, curious eyes behind a set of thick spectacles that frame her face perfectly. with all your experience analysing how you look you can't help but think she would be the perfect reference for your surgical procedures.

but you're also hit with thoughts of why is she looking at me? is she judging me? i bet she's judging me. fuck what is she looking at? is it my legs? my arms? my nose? is she thinking i'm an unsolveable case? fuck i shouldn't have come here. i should go now-

"hi, y/n?"

you're snapped out of your thoughts when you realise the pretty woman is now standing in front of you.

"y-yes." you curse at the stutter but she pays it no mind, offering a smile.

"the receptionist gave me your name. i'm dr im but you can call my nayeon. do you want to come with me?"

your eyes widen when she introduces herself. dr im. the most well-renowned plastic surgeon in the industry. you heard rumours that she had waitlists up to 20 years long and that you couldn't get an appointment with her except through referral. she was the one who brought this clinic its reputation of the leading plastic surgery clinic in the country.

"i-i'm sorry there must be some mistake? i didn't think the dr. im would be my advising clinician today."

she smiles again, "well no i wasn't meant to be but i came to grab some files from the front desk and i saw you and asked jiyeon," she gestures to the receptionist who handed you your form, "and found out you were here for an advisory session and forgive me if i'm being forward but i just thought you were beautiful and wondered what you possibly could've wanted to get done."

you feel your cheeks rapidly heat up as you gape up at her in shock.

"i can call back the previous doctor who was assigned to you if you want! i didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable i'm sorry if i-"

you interrupt her quickly, "no no! sorry that was just a surprise to me i definitely wasn't expecting that from you but um- yeah sure we can go now i'm fine with you being my doctor."

she grins then, and you're entranced by her slightly larger front teeth that make an appearance, "great! follow me."

you stand up a little frantically, gathering all your things and quickly following dr im.

it's more of an office than a doctor's room, you note the expensive leather and framed awards and certifications hanging on her wall, the neatly organised desk and pretty flowers that decorate and give the room some colour.

you sit cautiously in one of the chairs in front of her desk as she moves to sit in hers

"water?" she offers you.

you shake your head no, glancing down at your hands and fiddling with them just to be able to do something.

she looks over your form very briefly before looking back to you with a kind smile. "so what were you hoping to get out of coming here today y/n?"

you can't look up at her, "u-um just... y'know. like... everything..."

she cocks her head, "everything?"

"yeah like... face, body, all of it."

nayeon frowns, "that would be quite an expensive procedure."

"oh money's not really a problem. i've saved up a lot for this." you try to joke a little, if only to ease your own nerves, "worked my ass off all throughout high school and college so i could do this one day."

"you don't want to spend that money on anything else?"

you're confused and finally look up at her, "well i mean sure there are plenty of things i could spend it on but this is something i've thought about for a long time now and i'm finally ready to do it."

she's quiet for a little, seeming to be deep in thought, before she speaks up, "y/n... has someone made you feel like this?"

you frown, your sweaty hands gripping your pants tighter, "i'm sorry what does this have to do with my appointment?"

"i want to make sure you're doing this for the right reason. wanting to alter your entire body is a big decision and it can have lasting impacts. i don't want you to regret it afterwards."

you're getting more and more frustrated. this was a famous plastic surgeon who dealt with thousands of surgeries and has probably met cases like yours but she still doesn't seem to understand you. just like your parents and your friends, no-one understood.

"why does it matter to you? i want to get lots of things done that’ll make you lots of money and that really should be your only concern."

she narrows her eyes at you, “y/n, i couldn’t care less about the money. look around.” she gestures to her office, all the expensive trinkets and decorations she has lying around, “i have enough money to support a family for 100 lifetimes. what i do care about are my clients-”

you burst, “what do you know?! you’ve probably spent your whole life being adored for everything you do. people probably fall over themselves just to get a chance to talk to you! you’ll never understand how it feels to be unloved, to hate yourself when you wake up every morning and look in the mirror, to think everyone’s always talking about you, looking at you, judging you, you’re so beautiful you couldn’t ever know!”

she’s surprised at your sudden increase in volume. you had kept all of this in for so long, you felt like if you ever told anyone else they’d just think you were complaining but it was so much more debilitating than that. you couldn’t talk to your parents or your friends out of fear they’d think you were too needy or attention-seeking or whatever. nayeon was the first stranger who had shown they cared for you and you took that as a sign to release all your years of pent up frustration at her.

“i- i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to explode like that i-“

“it’s okay y/n. i’m sorry you’ve had to feel like this for so long on your own. but i just want to say, i’m not one of those people. i know it’s hard to believe when you look at me and what i’ve accomplished, but i find it hard to believe no-one loves you. and sure i judged you when i first saw you but not negatively. i told you i thought you were what i thought to be the perfect model for other people’s procedures and i was curious what you wanted to change about that.”

she’s collected herself and responds to you calmly, only with the curiosity of a scientist in her eye.

you’re unsure how to respond to her, feeling more than a little awkward now after your accidental outburst.

you attempt to clear your throat to start, “right… um so-“

“why don’t you take off your clothes and show me what you’d like to have done?”

you blush a bright red at her response, nodding slightly as you both stand and you begin to strip. you leave your underwear on as she stands in front of you, running her eyes over your body.

“um… so i guess if we’re starting from the bottom… i wanted to slim my calves down and shape them a little better… obviously um my ass i’d like to be a little rounder-“ you gesture to your various body parts as you talk, and she’s nodding, eyes focused, hands reached out as you feel goosebumps litter your skin when she gently probes the areas you're talking about.

"would you mind taking off your underwear? i just need to get an estimate of what you're talking about."

you blush again as you nod shyly, peeling the offending piece of item off you and turning as she prods and pokes again.

"um... yeah so i was also thinking a tummy tuck? just to tighten all the skin here-"

the feeling of her fingers on your body is slowly driving you insane. you're shivering a little as she runs her hand along your lower stomach, humming a little.

"um also like y'know, a boob job-"

she gestures for you to take off your bra and you do so, now standing completely naked in front of the doctor.

her hands come up and cup them, your nipples are hardening in the cool air of her office, "what size were you thinking?"

"i-i- u-um-" she squeezes a little and you take a deep inhale, trying to calm yourself, your eyes glued to the ceiling as she fondles you, "m-maybe one up?"

she hums and you feel a thumb brush across a nipple whether intentionally or unintentionally and you're suddenly clenching your thighs together praying she doesn't notice.

"so also um arm lifts, a face lift, kinda wanna hollow out my cheeks a little more and maybe highlight my cheekbones? lip fillers and a new nose, all of my scars obviously, and probably a brow lift too..."

her hands are on your face now, cupping your cheeks and she's close enough you can see the small specks of gold in her eyes and the little mole under her left eyebrow. your breath hitches as her eyes meet yours, they're so full of wonder and curiosity and you're reminded of the fact that you're very naked right now and standing in front of an extremely pretty woman.

she hums again, eyes dropping to your nose, than your lips, and you unconsciously wet your lips in tension, watching as her eyes trace the action.

then all of a sudden she's gone, moving back towards her chair and turning on her monitor. you quickly scramble for your clothes, hurriedly putting everything back on as you join her, blushing at the slightly sticky feeling between your legs.

"okay so we can do everything you just said. i'm going to need a few references-"

"you can use yourself for most of them."

she raises an eyebrow at you, a slight lift in the corner of her mouth.

"i appreciate the compliment y/n but if you're going to play that game then i'd like to say i wouldn't want to be sitting here discussing what to change about you in the first place."

"what would you be doing then?"

there's a glint in her eyes and you swallow, "helping you realise how there's nothing to change. eventually i'd get you to help me take a few pictures maybe, as reference for future customers who come in."

"and how would you do that?"

"how would i make you feel beautiful?" she's standing up and rounding her desk, taking her glasses off and placing them on her table, and you're looking up at her feeling strangely defiant.

"well yeah it'd be pretty hard knowing how much i hate myself-"

her arms now bracket the sides of your chair and she's leaning down with a clear smirk on her face.

"i'd touch along here," she's trailing one of her hands up your arm, leaving goosebumps in her wake, "here," she reaches your neck, then up to your face, leaning in to speak into your ear now, "everywhere just so you know exactly what i'm talking about. and i'd make you feel so good like you've never felt before, and i'd keep doing that until you realise just how crazy you drive me."

your eyes are lidded when you speak up again, voice hoarse and deep, "try it."

she's all in your space now, climbing into into your lap, lips closing around your ear lobe as she sucks. your eyes close and you groan a little when her hips meet yours, tilting your head back distantly wondering how the fuck you got yourself in this situation but quickly shaking that thought off when you feel her move towards your neck, licking and sucking.

soon enough she's moving up your jaw and towards your lips, one hand on your shoulder, the other one at your waist. she stops just short of your lips with a little smirk on her face as you share the same air.

your eyes meet her in a blaze and you surprise her when you yank her down, she moans when that brings your hips together even closer and you capture her lips with impatient want. her hands are tangling into your hair now, pulling lightly as your lips slide against each other, your breath hitching when she licks a tongue along your top lip.

“these- fucking- lips-“ she’s breaking away between kisses for air, panting softly.

“i can’t believe- you’d want to do anything- when i could kiss these- all fucking day-“

she’s breaking away again, leaving you chasing as she places pecks all across your face, “new nose? please this slant is perfect. these cheeks are adorable and these eyebrows shape your pretty pretty face just right-“ she’s kissing every inch of your skin, moving back down to your neck and nipping at your collarbone.

her hands are at the bottom of your shirt, sneaking up to caress the lines of your stomach and you let out a sharp inhale when one hand comes unashamedly up to cup your breast.

“how could you be making those pretty sounds if this wasn’t your body i was touching hmm?” she’s lifting your shirt over your head, sliding her hands everywhere.

"breast implants?" she scoffs as she brings her hands behind your back to unclasp your bra, flinging it behind her and moving her hands straight to cup your tits. "please darling look how perfectly these fit in my hands. and the way they spill out between my fingers if i squeeze like this-" you moan unabashedly now when she gropes and grasps.

"god i could just hold these all day-" she's dipping down, a tongue tracing the top of your breast, the hot feeling against your skin driving you absolutely mad as you roll your hips against her with a whimper.

she pushes you back down roughly with her hips, looking up at you, her hands never stopping her fondling at your breasts, she is obscene. "don't do that now sweetie. i'm meant to be taking care of you and showing you just how pretty you are to me. so you're gonna sit there and look pretty while i do exactly that mmk?"

she's taking a nipple into her mouth now, licking and sucking, and you hiss when she bites down softly, feeling her mouth turn upward at the sound.

she lavishes your breasts, leaving you quivering and flushed in her wake, she makes small comments in between periods of sucking marks into the side of your tits, her tongue has never once left your body since she started, wet trails leading everywhere.

she's kissing down your stomach now and you suck in a breath as she sinks to her knees in front of you, looking up at you with those curious eyes, completely clothed still in her white labcoat, mouth wrecked and lips in a pretty little pout. she's spreading your legs and you're fighting a little against her, embarassed at the fact that her face would be so close to you and she could see every little detail of your arousal.

she tuts but shuffles back a little, letting you close your legs again but she picks one up and starts feeling along your calf, pressing gently at the muscles there and feeling you unclench in relief.

"these don't need anything done either. you're just a little tense here. some stretching and a good massage will work those kinks right out and you won't even notice them anymore."

she's pressing down on all the pressure points to release the tension in your calves, and you moan slightly in pleasure as your head lolls back, eyes squeezing shut, cool air hitting your wet breasts, nipples perking at the lack of attention and you shudder.

you're helpless when she starts spreading your legs again, miraculous hands moving up to your knees, still kneading and massaging, then up to your thighs.

then her mouth is on you again, hot and wet against the inside of your thighs and you're squirming, breathing picking up as the tension in the room multiplies tenfold. you don't dare look down at her afraid the sight may just push you over the edge.

but hands come shooting down to her head when that tongue, that fucking tongue, licks a gentle strip from the bottom of your cunt to the top, stalling at the hood of your clitoris and pushing it back only to place a small peck on the nub and moving back down to drink in the essence flowing out of you.

"f-fuck dr im i-i-"

she stops, looking up at you with a quirk of an eyebrow, a lustful darkness seeping into her curious eyes, "call me that again."

"doctor im?"

she's back to lapping at your pussy and you moan, closing your thighs around her head, one arm raised up and holding on to the back of the chair to keep yourself upright.

"so fucking delicious. my god i could just tie you up and eat you out for hours."

you're whining, cunt clenching at her words but she's prying your folds open with her fingers, enamoured by the way your hole only seems to leak more with every action she takes, then she's licking into you and you cry out at the feeling. her tongue lashing against your walls as she moans at the taste of your core, sending shockwaves of pleasure right up your spine.

you can't take much more but she's lifting your ass and gripping, tugging you closer to her so she can explore even more of you.

eventually her mouth comes up for air and she's grabbing and kneading your ass cheeks, "these?-" her voice is a lot more gravelly now, thick with lust and she's panting slightly, "you don't know how perfect these are. they're the exact amount of firmness but still soft enough that i could use your ass like a pillow and you're talking about shape?" she sends a light slap up into you and you gasp, only clenching even harder around nothing, "just look how that rippled for me darling you need to know how fucking hot you look right now and how much you turn me on just from looking at you."

she almost sounds like she's growling with the low tenure of her voice and she's tugging you back into her, kissing your clit and sucking it into her mouth.

"d-doc- i- i- oh fuck- i'm gonna-"

she offers no response, just humming into you and you rut your hips into her at the vibration, completely helpless and positively dripping.

soon enough you're spilling over, coming with a moan, your back arching and she's licking you through it, you're completely blissed out heaving in effort before you slump back down into the chair.

but she doesn't stop. you're feeling overstimulated as she continues her assault on your pussy and you're lightly tugging her hair upwards trying to get her to come up but she's shaking her head no, and then shaking her head to tongue you side to side and you're building up all over again.

"w-wait d-doc i- i can't i just- doc-"

she looks up at you then, and holy fuck you almost came again at the sight. her slightly disheveled hair, eyes glazed over, mouth open and tongue sticking out absolutely ruined.

she's moving back up your body, kissing along places she's already left her mark on. "what did i say about sitting still and looking pretty baby? hmm?" a long finger finds its way to your folds and you're clenching in anticipation. "i said i'd make you cum as many times as it'll take for you to realise you're hot right? i'm not one to take back my words sweetie."

"f-fuck i- oh shit doc i-"

she's pushing into you torturously slow, a teasing smirk against your neck, "hm?"

"nggh fuck please- please i need- fuck- i need you- oh shit-"

"this?" another finger joins her but she stays hilted inside you, unmoving as you wriggle under her.

"ah- y-yes! p-please move- oh fuck i- please-" you're babbling at this point, almost incoherent but she's sliding out of you and then pushing in oh so wonderfully.

she's back to mouthing at your nipple, the sensitive nubs sending flares of heat down to your core, "so so pretty."

"i- yes- i- oh fuck-"

her fingers are entering you at a faster pace now, the wet sounds of your fucking filling the empty office.

all of a sudden there's a loud knock at the door and she stills inside you, looking up in slight alarm, nipple popping out of her mouth.

"doctor im your 3pm is here."

you can't help but clench around her fingers and she whips her head back down to you, wiggling her fingers a little at the feeling and you gasp.

"tell them to wait! i'll be another 10 minutes."

she's started moving inside you again and you bite your lip trying to keep quiet.

"alright." the sound of footsteps walking away is quiet before nayeon is driving into you again with renewed vigour.

she's hitting the spot inside you that's making your toes curl, her lips are back around your nipple sucking and licking, and then she's using a hand and pressing down lightly on your lower stomach stimulating your g-spot both from the inside and outside and you cry out around her as you come.

you're panting as she brings you back down, caressing your face and pushing your hair back, moving up to leave kisses all across your face again.

you're only able to open your eyes after a minute or so, blinking dazedly at her as she smiles and plants a kiss on your lips.

"listen... if you want... how about you give me a chance to make you feel loved, to show you how beautiful you are, and if you still feel that way about yourself afterwards, then i'll do all those surgeries for you personally, no more questions asked." she's soft against you, and you can't help but nuzzle your head into her neck, still a little boneless.

"okay."

"okay?" her eyes are bright as she pulls back so she can face you.

you nod with a lazy smile and she's hugging you, kissing your face again murmuring sweet you're so prettys and you did so wells.

too soon and she's lifting herself off you, helping you back into your clothes and standing by the door.

"i'm sorry that i had another appointment. i totally forgot. but i've got your number in my files so i'll message you after work today okay? maybe if you're free tonight we can grab something to eat together?"

you're shy as she's sending you off, nodding a small yes.

"okay don't ghost me now yeah?"

you blush, "y-yeah. see you dr. im."

"nayeon please. you can call me nayeon when we're not... y'know-" she sends you a wink and you only blush more, only barely stopping yourself from bowing to her in apology.

"alright n-nayeon."

"there we go. i'll see you in a bit okay y/n?"

you smile and walk out the door she's opened for you. it would still be a long way before you could be happy with yourself, but you thought maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea to postpone your surgeries for a little and see what im nayeon likes so much about you.

[hexstrapp]

Yes, Even More JayVik Headcanons to Cope

jayce has a habit of leaning his chair back on the back legs, and viktor always warns him he's going to fall

he fell Once and viktor is never going to let him forget.

viktor snorts when he laughs

his snorts make jayce laugh even harder

viktor is lowkey a little ghetto LMAO

you can take the man out of zaun but you cant take the zaun out the man

jayce LOVES the beach

viktor HATES sand (and he burns)

but viktor loves watching a shirtless, red tinted jayce run around like a puppy

viktor loves sardines and jayce wanted to see what the "hype" was about

when he crunched into that fish his face just fell

.☹️.

viktor hates the nickname baby

jayce loves any petname

viktor could call him something crazy and he’d absolutely fold

jayce loves having his hands on viktor’s waist.

standing side by side

facing each other

his hands STAY on vik

viktor is a horrible liar when it comes to jayce

once they were getting freaky in the lab and jayce full back pressed into the chalkboard, wiping away hours of work

immediately had to pause and redo the work

jayce is incredibly smart (ofc) but i think he would struggle w focusing for too long which is why all of his notes have doodles in the margins

viktor flips thru them when he’s bored

jayce loves to map and kiss all of viktor’s beauty spots and moles

viktor swears he’s kissed every one

THEY MAKE ME SICK IM GOING TO EXPLODE 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

want more??

(ps… leave requests! they help me write and give me much needed motivation :D )

-rome🪐

[b38rman]

THROUGH THE MOTIONS [pt. 2] ⋆.˚𖦹⋆✮⋆.˚ Ollie Bearman

series tags - ollie bearman x afab!reader, enemies to lovers, slight angst, slight sickfic moment, eventual smut, explicit sexual content

synopsis - Between you getting an international driving permit and a rental car or having to spend time carpooling with the Ferrari Driver Academy co-driver you despised the most, you just had to choose the more difficult option. (Spoiler alert: it didn’t have anything to do with getting the permit or a rental car.)

parts - 1 | 2

rating - part 2 - explicit

warnings -  18+!!! minors dni, alcohol, driving without an international license! (please get the right paper work lol), explicit sexual content, unsafe sex

a/n - this video lowkey fired me up to write this. anyways, enjoy this filth !

Everything was almost annoyingly normal in the next few days—or at least, as normal as you and Ollie could be. It was as if both of you were just going through the motions, not caring to talk about what had just transpired. It was infuriating that you didn’t talk about it, but it was just as daunting to begin thinking about talking about it. 

Ollie would pick you up, bring you home, and you two would repeat that routine without a word uttered aside from absolutely necessary one-worded small talk. It was almost peaceful if it didn’t carry a heavy tension in the air. 

Sometimes you just wished you could figure out what he was thinking. Other times, you couldn’t help but wonder if he wanted to know what was in your mind too. 

The next time Ollie picked you up was for a joint birthday celebration for two Prema engineers. The house where it was being held was quite a long drive away, and you couldn’t figure out how to get there for the life of you. Maybe it was uncharacteristic of you to text Ollie if he was going and if he could bring you, but again, you had no other options and he was bringing you to work practically everyday anyway; what was one more drive?

You waited out in the cold evening air in an outfit you wished you’d brought a thicker jacket for, and the familiar vehicle pulled up again like clockwork.

When you opened the door, your breath hitched in your throat as your eyes landed on Ollie. 

He was in a baby blue button down that looked just swanky enough to make him look more polished than usual. His curls were a bit tamer than usual too, like he’d been running his hands through them incessantly, and his cologne was a tad bit more noticeable. It made you feel like you were being flayed alive that he looked just that good. 

You got in the seat, buckling yourself in, trying not to look at him directly again as if he’d become the sun himself. 

“Why’d you give me that look?” You could hear the grin in his voice as he started the car. It filled you with a guilty, eye-roll inducing feeling—but you felt your mouth tugging up into a smile like you couldn’t control your body anymore. 

You squeezed your eyes closed, like it could stop the feelings rushing through your gut.

“You look—“ Nice. Cute. You clean up pretty decent. “—less horrible.”

His laugh was obviously complacent, like he knew he fished another ounce of vulnerability out of you. Still, you felt like that first time was more his fault than yours. After all, it was his fault he looked for you, and it was his choice to stay. 

“You too?” He answered back.

The car ride was exactly 52 minutes. You had to pretend you didn’t want to throw up for a whole 52 minutes.

When you got to the party, it was all the same with you and Ollie. It wasn’t like a few remarks were going to change anything, much less his heroics to make you drink tea when you were sick in order to make you feel even just a little bit better. 

You were convinced nothing could drastically change your dynamic. Maybe you felt like his presence, no matter how annoying it could be at times, had grown into something reliable and comfortable—like a pair of ugly yet useful boots that needed to make your toes bleed before you could walk in them.  

To an outsider, it would’ve looked like you were a couple emerging from the car. Still, there was no getting your door, helping you with your things, or holding your hand as you stepped out. It was him, then you, then the two of you separately. 

The party went on like that, but you couldn’t bring yourself to mind. Everyone at Prema never made you feel out of place, and it was a welcome break from all the noise about ‘how it feels to be this’ and ‘what does it mean to you to do that’. 

Of course, there was alcohol, but you couldn’t bring yourself to indulge and possibly become embarrassing around anyone, especially Ollie for that matter. 

You’d drift in and out of circles, a cola in one hand and your phone in another. This was your safe space, despite how fleeting the concept of home was for motorsport drivers. Prema was steady, stable, and ready to be there for you in good times and bad times, and you hoped Ferrari would continue to be the same. It was still strange that Ollie was part of both of those things, if not an integral part of those things in your life.

As the conversations began to die down and your social battery began to falter, you found yourself sitting on a lumpy sofa in the corner of the living room, people-watching from a distance. You were content where you were, an easy smile playing on your lips as you watched 30-something Italian men gesticulate in the foreground.

That was until a familiar looming figure appeared in your periphery before taking the spot next to you uninvited.

“That’s where you went.” Ollie said simply, his breath smelling like a mix of white wine and whiskey. His cheeks were more flushed than you’d ever seen them, and you felt the warmth of his body radiate on you. 

“What d’you need?” You asked, trying not to think about your ride home later or how far down his flush went (it was disappearing down his neck and under his button down.)

“Nothing.” He paused and seemed to contemplate for a second. “A hug would be nice.” 

Forget a bear, right now he looked more like a petulant little puppy than anything.

You were confused, but considering how drunk he seemed to be, his attitude didn’t come out of thin air. He’d probably forget about all this in the morning anyway. 

“Okay, um, from me?” You trailed off as you looked at him, his arms already wide open. You should’ve been worrying about how the engineers and staff might react to this, or how embarrassing all of this actually was in the greater scheme of things. It was your fault, though, that you obliged. 

Ollie laid his arms around your shoulders and nuzzled his head into your neck, sighing. He was taller than you, so the angle was a tad awkward. Ollie didn’t seem to mind at all though. 

Little did you know that he would take it as a chance to not let go. All things considered, you accepted your fate pretty quickly.

After a few minutes, Rene (of course he’d notice first) approached the two of you, a goofy, knowing grin on his face. 

“I told you! Him driving you would get you two to like each other.” Rene said with a laugh.

“No, Rene, we’re not—“ You tried to answer back but the man shook his head.

“Nonsense. I’d know.” He winked in an overly exaggerated way to punctuate his statement. “Anyway, is your chauffer alright?”

You glanced at Ollie, who seemed to be taking a nap with his hair pressed into the nook of your neck.

“Not great.” You deduced.

“You should be the one to drive tonight, he is out of it for sure. Just don’t get caught.” Rene decided for you.

It shouldn’t have ended there, but it did. Little did you know, whatever this was didn’t really have an end in sight. 

You sat there for a moment, holding the weight of Ollie’s head against your shoulder, feeling strangely stuck in limbo. The night had shifted unexpectedly into something intimate, confusing, and decidedly uncharacteristic for the both of you.

“Alright, up you go,” you muttered under your breath, nudging Ollie’s shoulder. He groaned in protest but eventually sat up, his head lolling back against the couch.

“You good?” you asked, leaning forward slightly to catch his gaze. His eyes were glassy, his lips tugging into a lopsided grin.

“Never better,” he mumbled, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

“I’m driving,” you announced, standing up and straightening your jacket.

Ollie blinked up at you, processing your words with the speed of molasses. “You don’t have a license.”

“Neither should you right now,” you shot back, holding your hand out to him. “Keys, Ollie. Or we’re both walking.”

He grumbled something under his breath before fishing the keys out of his pocket and handing them to you. His fingers brushed yours for just a second too long, and you felt a strange jolt of electricity shoot up your arm.

“Come on,” you said, avoiding his gaze and pulling him to his feet.

The walk to the car was uneventful, aside from Ollie’s occasional stumbling. You kept a firm grip on his arm, steadying him when he leaned too far to one side.

“You’re bossy when you’re sober,” he slurred, leaning his head against your shoulder as you fumbled with the keys.

“And you’re unbearable when you’re drunk,” you retorted, shoving him gently into the passenger seat.

The drive back to your host family’s house in Maranello was quiet, save for the occasional murmur from Ollie as he slouched against the window. The streets were empty at this hour, the soft hum of the engine filling the silence.

“You didn’t have to come get me,” Ollie said suddenly, breaking the quiet. His voice was softer now, tinged with something that sounded like regret.

“Yeah, well,” you muttered, keeping your eyes on the road. “I wasn’t about to leave you there.”

He turned his head to look at you, his gaze heavy. “You’re too good for that.”

You scoffed, trying to brush off the unexpected compliment. “Don’t get sentimental on me now, Ollie.”

The rest of the drive passed in a haze of quiet moments and shared glances. When you finally pulled into the driveway of your host family’s house, you turned to look at him.

“Come on,” you said, nudging his arm. “You’re not staying alone tonight.”

Ollie blinked at you, his brow furrowing slightly. “Here?”

“Unless you want me to take you back to your place and risk having Dino or Rafa film you passed out on the couch,” you said, arching a brow.

He considered this for a moment, then nodded. “Fair point.”

Getting him inside was another adventure. You shushed him more times than you could count as he stumbled over the threshold, laughing quietly at his own clumsiness.

“Shh,” you hissed, dragging him toward the guest room you’d been staying in. “My host parents are asleep.”

Ollie grinned at you, his steps faltering as you guided him to the bed. “You’re like a secret agent,” he whispered dramatically.

“Yeah, well, secret agents don’t babysit drunk soon-to-be Formula 1 drivers,” you muttered, pushing him gently onto the mattress.

He flopped down with a satisfied sigh, kicking off his shoes and wriggling under the covers. You stood there for a moment, watching him settle in, his face soft in the dim light.

“You good?” you asked, your voice quieter now.

He nodded, his eyes already fluttering shut. “Thanks,” he mumbled, his voice barely audible.

“For what?”

“For… not leaving me.”

You didn’t know how to respond, so you simply tugged the blanket up to his shoulders and turned off the light.

As you closed the door behind you, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself. Whatever this was, it wasn’t over—not by a long shot.

When morning arrived, took a moment to register the unfamiliar weight against your side, the soft sound of breathing near your ear.

Ollie.

He was still asleep, his face turned toward you, his curls a wild mess against the pillow. One of his arms had ended up slung loosely across your waist, his hand resting near your hip. You froze, your mind racing as you pieced together the hazy events of the night before, the same clothes still on as a reminder that all of this was real.

He must’ve shifted in his sleep, you told yourself. It wasn’t like either of you had planned this. And yet, the steady warmth of him next to you sent a pang of something—comfort? Panic?—coursing through you.

You shifted slightly, trying to wiggle free without waking him.

“Don’t,” he mumbled, his voice groggy and muffled. His arm tightened just a fraction, holding you in place.

“Ollie,” you whispered, trying to keep your tone steady.

“Five more minutes,” he muttered, his eyes still closed, a sleepy smile tugging at his lips.

“Seriously, you’re—”

He cracked one eye open, his gaze meeting yours, and the sight of him that close—soft, unguarded—made your words falter.

“You stayed with me,” he said, his voice rasping with sleep.

“Yeah, well,” you mumbled, looking anywhere but at him. “You were in no shape to be left alone.”

“Good excuse,” he teased, though his tone was gentle, his hand brushing against your side as he shifted to prop himself up on one elbow.

You shot him a look, heat rising to your cheeks. “You’re lucky I didn’t just leave you on the couch.”

“Lucky, huh?” he said, his grin widening.

There was something about the way he was looking at you—like he was trying to memorize every detail of this moment—that made your chest tighten.

“Yeah, what are you gonna do about it?” You tried to taunt, without any bite coming out of it like you meant for it to. Instead you felt your faces inching ever closer, so close that you swore you heard his pulse racing in time with yours. 

That was finally, finally when his lips crashed into yours. Your body felt like it was about to give out, but it was even more overwhelming that you knew Ollie was right there to catch you. You were lightheaded from how much you wanted this. 

“Okay?” Ollie pulled away to ask as he moved to pin you down on your bed. You honestly couldn’t think straight anymore.

“Yeah, God, just—come on.” You replied breathlessly, and you felt Ollie smile against your lips. It was imperfect in most ways, morning breath and all, but it was everything you never knew you wanted. Maybe it was everything you weren’t allowing yourself to have.

Ollie continued to move on top of you, moving to kiss your forehead and cheeks before proceeding to bite down on your neck. That left you gasping for air, melting like putty in his hands. 

Next thing you know, you’re pawing at his button-down, all rucked up and wrinkled from your activities the night before. He made quick work of it, and soon the baby blue was discarded on the floor, the pile soon being joined by the dress you had on, and Ollie’s trousers.

“Shame, I liked that.” Ollie said as your dress hit the ground. “I like this more though.” His toothy grin took on a whole meaning of its own now, one that you’d probably think about nights from now, with your hands down your underwear. 

“Shut up.” You answered back, your body deciding to blush in spite of yourself and the situation you were already in. 

You continued kissing, harder and more desperate than before, and Ollie was grinding into you through the thin layers that still remained between the two of you. The whimpers that left his mouth made you feel a sense of power over him, one you never thought you’d have. It wasn’t drunkening though, it was more of a soft glow that you felt exuding from your body.

“I don’t have a condom,” Ollie was the breathless one now. “We don’t have to—“

“I’m on the pill.” You said with finality and a hint of desperation. You weren’t sure if you wanted Ollie to know the latter or not, but you definitely wanted what was to come.

“Fuck, okay.” Ollie looked a little blindsided by that, eyes blown wide and filled with what you could only explain as unabashed want. 

You unclasped your bra (you wished you could pause and frame the look on Ollie’s face when you did) and shimmed out of your underwear. When Ollie slipped out of his boxers, you hoped your face didn’t give away any particular thought. Because honestly, he was well-endowed.

“Like something you see?” He had the nerve to be smug as his cock was out, red and hot and waiting.

“Could say the same for you.” You retorted, pulling him down by his neck so you’d be face to face as it happened.

You wrapped your legs around his hips, and he seemed to get the signal because soon, you felt his tip breach your entrance. You bit your lip to prevent any noises, seeing as your host family was likely still home somewhere. 

Ollie continued to slide in slowly, biting at your shoulder probably with the same sentiments as you. When you felt his hips flush against yours, you relished in how good it felt to be completely full.

A soft “Move,” exited your mouth, and soon Ollie was pulling back and thrusting into you with force. You were so grateful your beframe wasn’t betraying you with sounds of what was going on.

It was surprisingly tender, but still so satisfying. Ollie was thrusting into you at a steady but deep pace, leaving you gasping and leaving crescent-shaped indents down his back as you tried to hold on. 

Something shifted though when Ollie hitched up your left leg and started thrusting into you harder and faster. You felt yourself barelling straight to release as you could feel everything without any barriers between you and him. 

“Ollie, please.” You cried out, him now hitting your g-spot with every thrust. He was still fucking you in earnest, but clearly getting sloppy. 

“Let go for me baby, that’s it.” Ollie encouraged, punctuating with particuarly hard thrusts, leaving you clenching uncontrollably. Eventually, you felt your orgasm roll through you, and you pulled Ollie back into a kiss just to muffle the sounds you were making.

You felt Ollie still hammering into you, and you could nearly cry from the excess of pleasure and overstimulation you felt. He laid into you with one, two more deep thrusts and he was spilling inside you with a grunt he couldn’t silence.

Ollie laid on you, his head nuzzled into your neck, softening cock still inside you. 

“You keep surprising me.” Ollie broke your solemn silence, brushing his fingers over your face. 

“I hope you like surprises.” You quipped back, unable to hold back your smile. You knew that this moment had to end sooner or later, and this would turn a bit disgusting with Ollie’s cum drying between your legs. However both of you were here now, still. Here. Still.

“I do, actually;” Ollie replied simply. “I do.”

[traumatrios]

thinking about…

luke taking care of you when you’re sick.

one morning you’ll wake up and suddenly your throat is sore as fuck and you can’t breathe through your nose— a deadly combination. coupled with the fact you have scattered bruises and growing pains sprouting in your body, to say the least, you were not going outside today.

now this probably developed from overworking your body and mingling with various campers because i mean, it was bound to happen to somebody!

luke would have to find out about your sickness from one of your siblings, but he’d be hot in his heels to get to your bedside. you don’t even realize he’s there until you feel the callused skin of his knuckles pressing against your forehead and his worried voice muttering a, “gods, you’re burning up on me, angel.”

the medic cabin doesn’t really take in run-of-the-mill sick campers because they like to keep the beds open at all times but luke convinces them to let you lay in a cot so your cold doesn’t affect your siblings.

so you lay in a cot all day. luke managed to cancel almost all of his sword fighting lessons (leaving a few to spare because you were stubborn on not letting him get stuck in here with you). he’d practically be shoving water and mortal medicine (aka aleve) into your mouth, with a hearty and warm meal when appropriate.

say you’re a child of athena, whom we know is graced with the powerful yet self deprecating trait of ambition. you’d be begging to finish up work or helping annie with strategies for future games and luke would be there to press your shoulders back on the thin mattress of the cot and tuck you in so you’re as snug as a bug in a rug.

or let’s say you’re a child of apollo, nearly being brought to tears when you hear your own gravely and weak voice echo through the air. “my poor voice!” you’d cry “what will i have if i don’t have my voice?” and luke would just sit there with a tired sigh and the roll of his eyes.

he’d always have his hand around a Kleenex box because he always seemed to sense when you’d sneeze and would shove it into your chest quick enough so you could catch whatever resulted in said sneeze.

or imagine lowkey germaphobe!luke triple masked and gloved— he might as well have a full hazmat suit on. you’d go the entire day shooting him a side eye when he’d jump back in his stool if you’d so much cough in his direction.

either way he would never leave your side until you were better :)

loverschatbox, 2024

[rottenpumpkin13]

ACGSZ (as kids) board the Polar Express. What happens?

Sephiroth:

First time outside the lab. Clutching his standard, white lab pajamas like a security blanket.

He takes a seat and keeps looking around the train with suspicion, "The physics of this locomotive are impossible. Also, why is no one concerned about a strange man collecting children at night?"

Refuses the hot chocolate at first because "Professor Hojo warned me about sugar and foreign substances." Ends up trying it out of peer pressure and immediately falls in love. His eyes widen at the first sip—it's his first taste of chocolate.

Tells the other kids he never got presents, not even for his birthday. Genesis looks horrified.

Accidentally ends up on the roof and has a philosophical conversation with the hobo about the meaning of life.

Genesis:

Bounces onto the train in festive red pajamas and a little robe, all big smiles and boundless energy. He's missing one front tooth and can't stop grinning because his mom isn't here to worry about appearances and tell him to close his mouth.

He gulped down his hot chocolate eagerly, then began theorizing how he could replicate the recipe. "I bet it has nutmeg! Angeal, do you think it has nutmeg?"

"Genesis, sit down," Angeal groans, tugging him back into his seat for the third time.

Gets into a heated debate with the conductor about the train being a metaphor for "the journey of life."

Is a walking mini dictionary/ encyclopedia combo, is eager to tell everyone all about the fun facts he knows, and tells other children stories.

Horrified to learn Sephiroth doesn't believe in Santa. Spends the rest of the ride trying to convince him and tells him all about how Christmas is magical.

Angeal:

Only here because Genesis dragged him along. Begrudgingly sits down but ends up lecturing the other kids about train safety. "Hold the rail, Genesis. Don't hang your head out the window, Zack. Cloud, are you feeling okay? You're looking pale."

Keeps pulling Genesis back into his seat, which becomes a full-time job.

Lowkey guilty about enjoying the hot chocolate because his parents don't get to try it. "They'd love this." Feels even guiltier when he accepts a second cup.

Tries to help the staff maintain order, which the conductor finds both helpful and annoying. The conductor repeatedly tells him to "take a break, kid."

Gets emotional over the broken toys in the back of the train.

Zack:

Becomes best friends with every kid on the train in under five minutes. "What's your name? That's a cool name! Wanna play a game? What's your favorite Christmas carol?"

Organizes a "Guess That Christmas Carol" competition. Ends up singing too loudly, which makes Sephiroth laugh for the first time.

"GUYS, WE'RE ON ICE! WHY ARE WE DRIFTING? THIS IS AWESOME!"

Convinces the conductor to let him touch the controls and to drive the train.

Cloud:

Cloud is the last child to board, running through the snow with his little scarf trailing behind him. He almost missed the train, but the other four pulled the emergency brake.

Shyly accepts Zack's excited ushering and sits in the corner. Gets motion sick almost immediately.

Slowly warms up to the group, tells them he doesn't receive much presents because his mother can't afford them, Sephiroth nods in solidarity and the two bond over their lukewarm feelings about Christmas.

Tries the hot chocolate but drinks it too slowly and it gets cold. Zack swaps cups with him. In fact, Zack has made it his mission to make sure Cloud has the best time ever.

At the North Pole

When Santa arrives, Sephiroth is picked to receive the first gift. Everyone else cheers, while Sephiroth looks very out of place.

Santa asks him what he wants. Sephiroth thinks of asking for his mother back but pauses. He looks at Genesis excitedly ranting about Santa, Angeal trying to stop Zack from terrorizing an elf, and Cloud shyly smiling and giving him a thumbs up.

"I… I want our paths to cross again someday," he says instead, looking at his newfound friends.

Santa smiles knowingly. "Consider it done."

None of them remember the night when they wake up. But when they meet again years later, it feels like fate.

[sukirichi]

SUKI SUKI? @! ÷ 2? I THINK YOU HAVE CLOSED THE REQS BUT IT OCCURRED TO ME TO ME MAGICALLY HELP. LISTEN !!!! husband bonten but the first time they met with y/n, like THE FIRST INTERACTION OF EVERYONE AND IN WHAT SITUATION DID THEY HAVE AN INSTANT CRUSH TO EACH OTHER AND EVERYTHING THAT CONTAINS?×)÷,×!",!)0273*?× ¡÷ 2 I PRAY YOU TO WRITE IT, IT DOESN'T MATTER IF IT IS IN 10 YEARS 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 IM CRYINH

BONTEN MEN MEETING THEIR WIVES FOR THE FIRST TIME !! (PART ONE)

☁️ mikey, haitani ran, haitani rindou

☁️ unedited. mild angst on mikey's part. ran is technically not a first meeting, but yeah! suggestive on ran's part. fluff. cursing. mikey is lowkey a stalker. (only putting the three of them first because it was getting too long 😭)

♡ — MIKEY

It’s just another day, another mission. There’s nothing new for Mikey. And even if there was, there’s hardly anything he looks forward to now. Whether it’s a mission accomplished or mission failed, he hardly notices. His executives will take care of it, anyway. So he walks aimlessly in the streets he calls his, unafraid of the night’s darkness and the dangers it might bring – quite frankly, because he is the danger that lurks. What is there to be afraid of when he’s the worst imaginable nightmare around?

So lost in his own thoughts, it takes him a second to register the collision of his body with someone else. “I’m sorry!” a sweet voice cuts through the night air. You sound adorable and apologetic enough Mikey’s eyes light up for just a brief moment. Dark, lifeless eyes come to life as he glances at you – bowing in apology while clutching your satchel to your chest. “I wasn’t looking where I was going and I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to–”

At any other day, Sanzu would’ve handled this for him. At any other day, Mikey would’ve let it slide and moved on because he just doesn’t care. You’re a civilian, anyway, and you knew better. No one bumps into him like this by accident. Curious, he tilts his gaze to you. There’s only one good conclusion of your unabashed expression that of guilt and genuine embarrassment – you must not have any idea who he is and treated him like you would anyone else.

He’s not the fearsome Manjiro Sano to you.

He’s just a stranger you inconvenienced, and for some reason, that soothes him. He’s not a killer in your eyes. He’s not a person who’s continuously done the wrong thing for the past few years. He’s just... him.

“It’s okay,” he replies after a moment, tucking his hands inside the pockets of his hoodie. “It’s late, though. You shouldn’t be out around this time of night. It’s dangerous.”

“Oh, I know,” you scrunch up your nose, “Gangs are running rampant and all. But this is the only time I can take a high-paying shift, and what’s the point of safety if I can’t pay my bills, right?”

He doesn’t know how to answer that. He hasn’t worried about bills in a long time – Kokonoi has that covered. Instead, he nods, finding it hard to look away from you. “Stay safe, then. And if you need help, then...” Then, what? The gangs would help? Bonten would keep you safe? No, that was ridiculous. Bonten was the one thing everyone wanted to be protected from.

It hits him, then, that he is the monster that makes everyone feel unsafe. And for once in his life since he’d established Bonten, Mikey feels sick.

He doesn’t want to be the cause of your worries.

— It doesn’t take much to find out everything about you – where you work, where you live, when your shifts happen, and even silly details like what your favourite flavour or cup ramen is. He tells himself he’s doing this for your safety, and in a way, he is. You weren’t kidding when you said you take graveyard shifts because it pays the best, so upon finding out you come home really late, and go to work just as, Mikey takes it upon himself to watch from afar. Never approaching, never striking a conversation – because he doesn’t know what to say, and how could he explain he knows your routine by now – but always watching. Guarding. Protecting. He must look ominous gazing upon you from buildings afar, but he’s content with it. He thinks he can do this for as long as he likes, simply watching you from afar.

— But then he realizes he wants more.

— And he doesn’t know what ‘more’ means exactly. More time with you? You don’t even know who he is. More conversations? He’d probably stumble over his words, or make the worst jokes. Fuck. He hasn’t joked in a while. Would you even find him funny? He thinks about all day long, all night long, until you’re the only one running into his mind and he’s been so mentally checked out of his own meetings that his executives have – politely – asked him to just take a while for himself.

— So he does, and because he was never good at controlling his urges, he goes to you. He dresses a little nicer than usual; a newly ironed shirt, a good pair of jeans, and even asked Rindou to fix his hair up for him. “Going on a date?” he’d teased, but even Mikey doesn’t know how to answer that. It’s not a date, but he’d be damned if he let another day go by that you didn’t know his name.

— He introduced himself, rather awkwardly, and pretends like he didn’t come to your work on purpose. “I didn’t know you worked here,” he says, and it couldn’t be a bigger lie. But you just smile up at him like you’re happy to see him, like you’ve been hoping to meet again, and for a moment, Mikey lets himself believe that it could be true. Maybe he deserves that smile. Maybe someone actually wants to see him. He lingers on that delusion long enough that he’s matched his routine with yours – walking you back home, letting you talk about how much you hate your boss, and hate your sleazy customers even more. It’s not easy being a waitress, especially when you’re forced to wear tight-fitting clothes with the intention of attracting customers. And it gets to him. The darkness and rage he’s been letting quietly simmer beneath his veins as to not scare you off finally resurfaces.

— He hates it all – hates how you’re in such an unfortunate situation, and there’s only so little he could do. Until he realizes he’s the Manjiro Sano. After sending in Sanzu to deal with your boss, who may or may not have been gently blackmailed into treating you better and giving you higher pay or else, Mikey notices the weight being lifted off your shoulder. You’ve started smiling more and even invite him to your place one time to celebrate your ‘fortunes.’

“Are you sure?” he asks rather warily, “I mean, it’s late at night.”

“Yeah, it’s fine,” you reassure him, and lead him inside your home. He almost feels bad for you for being so unaware. You don’t have the slightest idea you’re bringing a killer in the safety of your home, but he doesn’t get the chance to dwell on it when you turn on the lights. He’s greeted by your homey apartment, a little cluttered, a little messy, and it’s a little small for you that he can’t imagine would be comfortable – but it’s yours, and you’re proud of it. Pulling out a mat, you tell him to make himself at home while you prepare some celebratory snacks. They’re nothing fancy – mostly chips, cheap wine, and a few hardened candies.

It’s probably the worst timing to realize he’s falling in love.

First of all, there’s nothing romantic about watching you lean against the counter, humming to yourself as you pop open the wine. Second of all, you don’t look enticing or seductive. Not in your mismatched pyjamas and even more hilariously mismatched socks. But you are enticing – from the way your throat vibrates at your humming, to your quick, swift movements preparing the snacks. You look so at home, so content, that he can’t help but want that for himself. Want you for himself. He wants you at his place and to decorate it as you wish. He wants you to liven it up and scatter knick-knacks all over his room. He wants your toothbrush next to his in the bathroom. He wants you – wants all of you – from your crumpled shirt, to your aching shoulders after a long day at work, wants to kiss it all better for you.

He wants you.

And when the Bonten Head wants something, he will get it.

— If someone told him that a few years from now that his silly musings at three in the morning would finally come true, he’d have scoffed at them. But this is his reality is now, and how he’ll spend the rest of his life.

You’re standing next to him in his bathroom, brushing your teeth while simultaneously humming to yourself. He’s heard the melody enough to have memorized it. And when he’s having a hard day, he sings it to himself, although it never sounds as good like when you do it. The tune is comforting, a reminder you’re in his life now, that everything’s worked out. You married him, and he couldn’t be a happier man.

“Something wrong, Manjiro?” you ask after rinsing your mouth, turning to him with a hand on your hips. Stern, yet unbelievably gentle. Cupping his cheeks with your hands, he melts. “Tell me. How can I make it better?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” he says, and it’s the truth. The moment is all too perfect. You’re here with him, you’re safe, and you’ve loved him after everything he’s done. “Just wanna hold you.”

You break him to it. Lunging into his arms, you giggle and bury yourself around his neck, knowing full well he’ll catch you. Mikey laughs, too, but it’s quieter, more reserved, the sound nearly muted because your skin is pressing against his so hard that it becomes hard to fathom there was ever a time he felt he wasn’t worth of love. And maybe he still isn’t. He still has Bonten, he still has horrible urges, he still gets the demanding itch to kill and hurt – but you’re there, in his arms, and he feels the darkness slowly simmer into tamed shadows.

♡ — HAITANI RAN

Ran is not subtle with his feelings. He believes in the beauty and art of flirting, of holding one’s gazes for just a second longer than what was considered polite, the fleeting, yet burning touches one could pass off as innocent. He’s had enough experience in his life to have mastered it. He’s handsome, he’s irresistible, and he knows it. Beauty and charm is a weapon he wasn’t ashamed of wielding, especially not around his current flavour of the month – or more like months, now. He’s played this game of tic tac toe with you, this push and pull, for so long that he feels he’ll lose his mind.

Like everyone else in Bonten, he usually gets what he wants. But you’re different. You’re attracted to him – that much he knows – but you’re the one responsible for all of Bonten’s uniform and suits that your attraction borders just on the edge of professionalism. But he knows. Oh, he knows. You aren’t so subtle yourself.

Each time he comes around for a fitting, your lips twitch as if you’re fighting back a smile. He also doesn’t fail to notice how you’re gesturing around to your staff in the shop to give you two ‘privacy.’ Bonten executive or not, Ran isn’t foolish – he knows he’s the only one receiving this special treatment. Knows you don’t touch your other clients like this – with a perfectly manicured nail grazing down his arm, your eyes lidded with lust, your blood-red lips caught between your teeth.

It makes Ran yearn.

He wants those same claws to run down scratches behind his back. He wants to take those lips into his mouth, instead, to have you ruin his suits by staining it with your lipstick on his collar, his neck, his tie, his pants. It’d give him more of a reason to come back, anyway. But you just had to be so professional that he always leaves the shop with his pants feeling tighter than ever, his lungs constricted because it becomes hard to breathe around you, yet feeling so addicted to the high of having you so close, yet so far away.

“You should come back for another fitting,” you call out to him just as he swings the door open. He freezes. He’s always the one scheduling a fitting. Unable to help it, he shuts the door and locks it, smirking to himself when he hears the vague hitching of your breath behind the counter.

“And why is that?”

“Oh, you know,” you manage to tease, but ah. He can see right through you. Even with your nonchalant facade, he can tell he’s getting under your veins with every step he takes to close the distance between you. Damn the counter. Damn any customers who might be waiting outside. For now, there’s only him and you, and he thinks he may damn well truly ruin his pants when you look up at him with eyes blown wide with want. With need.

He wishes you could just let go and give in.

“I, in fact, don’t know. But do care to enlighten me,” leaning down, he rests his arms against the counter, glad to finally be at your eye level. You’re prettier in this angle, which baffles him, because you’re already so pretty enough it hurts. And he can’t help but wonder if you’d look a hundred times better in... different angles. An angle under him, perhaps, where you’re helpless and forced to clutch his biceps while you hold on for dear life. Because Ran guarantees once he gets his hands on you, he’s never letting go.

“I just think,” with narrowed eyes, he feels your heated gaze travel from his face that’s inches away from yours down to his chest, and to the bulge constricted around his pants. You let out a breathy sound at the sight of it, his body responding by growing even harder. “Your pants are too tight for you now. Perhaps we should make you a better one?”

“I have other ways in mind in which we could resolve this problem. Preferably one that doesn’t consist of measuring tapes,” he raises his brow, watches as you slowly unfold and unravel right at his palms. It’s almost satisfying. Almost. He’s wanted you for so long that frustration is more what he feels right now, and impatience. “Although I’m not entirely against using ropes.”

♡ — HAITANI RINDOU

Rindou doesn’t concern himself with civilians. He has better things to do, and after a long day, he’s more than ready to just plop himself into bed and wake up only when the world is ending. Or, he could just let it end, too. He couldn’t care any less. Unfortunately for him, though, the universe has different plans for him that night. He just wanted to get a damned drink, for fuck’s sake, until he hears screaming and the shuffling of feet as soon as he steps out of the convenience store.

“Stop him!” someone squeals, the cry helpless and desperate. From where he stood, wine bottle on one hand, he could see the figure of a man running with what seemed like a bag clutched to his chest. “Someone help, please!”

Rindou sighs. There’s nothing more that he hates more than petty crimes that are more inconveniences than impactful. Before he could register what he’s doing, Rindou’s arm extended out in front of himself, and within the blink of an eye, the thief whizzing past him had been caught by the collar. The thief struggles against his hold, whining and thrashing with curses thrown his way.

“Let me fucking go, you oaf!”

“I don’t think so,” Rindou tips his head to the side just as a figure appeared behind the thief. You stand there, wheezing to catch your breath with your hands on your knees. At the sight of him effortlessly restraining the thief, you break out into a relieved sigh and snatch back your bag, holding it more possessively. And oh, aren’t you just pretty? With your skin layered with a sheen of sweat from all that running, cheeks damp with tears, your frown now replaced with a grateful smile – Rindou feels like you’re the thief. “Whoa. Careful with that smile, sweetheart.”

Your brows furrow, and he nearly groans. It should be a crime for someone to look so adorably confused. “What?”

“Okay, that’s enough, they got their bag back, now let me go!”

Right. He still had a lame excuse of a criminal on his hand. With a roll of his eyes, Rindou throws the man against to the ground until he’s coughing out blood from when he hit the pavement. He hears you gasp, and it makes him wince. He hadn’t meant to be so harsh. You’re probably afraid of him now.

“Run along,” he warns the petty thief, and he didn’t need to be told twice. As soon as the man disappears, Rindou turns to you, a lazy smile making its way into his face. “You know, I usually hate being troubled, but this might be the first time I don’t mind as much.”

Your jaw drops. You look around frantically in your bag for a moment, and just when he thinks you can’t get anymore interesting, you pull out a wad of cash and shove it to him. Rindou cocks a brow. “And what is that for, sweetheart?”

“To-to thank you for saving me! And it’s also an apology because I troubled you...”

Rindou fights the urge to scoff. “I feel like I should be offended,” he says in a sing-song manner, only because you don’t take the teasing well, and the sight of you stumbling over your words is already making his night. He wants to reassure you it’s no trouble at all, that he’ll easily catch all your thieves for you, or that you can steal his heart and never give it back to him. But he doesn’t, because he’s just met you, and maybe, just maybe, he’s curious how this will go.

“Oh, I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to–”

“Say, if you really want to thank me, why don’t we share this?” he lifts his wine bottle, and you eye it for a moment before nodding eagerly. His heart drops. He lowers the bottle, his voice growing darker – yet make no mistake. Behind his scowl and hardened eyes, his heart is beating a mile a minute, and his skin is burning impossibly hot. “Don’t you think you say yes a little too easily?”

“Uhm, but you saved me. You helped me, and this is how you want to be thanked.”

Rindou thinks his brain might short-circuit. You are definitely trouble.

“I could be more dangerous than him, you know,” he leans toward you menacingly to prove a point, but you don’t cower. Your breath hitches, and you clutch your bag tighter. But you don’t move away, and neither can he. Now that he’s closer, he can smell your strawberry scented perfume and he shuts his eyes, greedily inhaling the scent. Shit. He hasn’t even drunk anything, and he already feels intoxicated. Taking a step back for his own sanity, Rindou levels you a warning glare. “You really should be more careful, sweet. Perhaps it’ll lower the chances of you running into trouble.”

“Oh,” you look dejected, though he could just be imagining it. “Yeah, okay, uh... I’ll be more careful. Thank you again...?”

“Rindou.”

“Rindou,” you repeat, and he realizes his name sounds sweeter when you say. With a scrunch of your nose, you eye the wine in his hands again. “Will I see you again? I really want to thank you for your help.”

With such a sweet offer, how can he resist? He’d be stupid to say no – even if you were trouble, it’s fine. He wasn’t notorious for being a troublemaker for no reason anyway.

[gortash-did-nothing-wrong]

Parental Negotiations

Feyd x reader

Pregnancy, canon typical violence suggested, etc. Feyd is Lowkey his own warning.

Feyd's brown wrinkled as he narrowed his eyes. "None?"

I tensed, anticipating a fight. Feyd had the energy to argue all day if he cared enough about the topic, and for better or worse our future children were an important topic to him. But at seven months pregnant, I had no desire to do such a feat. Once upon a time I would have loved to have verbally sparred with him over the course of several hours, riling him up until he was ready to throw me into our bed. None of that sounded appealing these days. I'd rather the two of us spend our evening quietly, holding each other, watching some documentary or education text until I fell asleep. Is this how old people felt?

Feyd and I were both barely in our early twenties, but this pregnancy feels like it had aged me in an unexpected way. Or maybe I was just tired. That could be it.

I sighed, sitting down on the couch that took up a large space in my living quarters. Feyd had his own rooms of course, but he spent most of his time in mine. It would be smothering if I didn't like him so much. "I don't want to use a wet nurse when the baby is born. I want to feed my child from my own breast. And I don't really want to use nursemaids either, I'd prefer to raise my own child."

Feyd was quiet for a moment, his eyes staring me down like he was trying to determine just how serious I was about this issue. When he did speak, his raspy voice was gentler than usual. "You're the Na Baroness. You'll be the Baroness one day. You have obligations beyond being a wife and mother."

"I know, and I'm not going to neglect those duties. I think I'll take one or two months to rest with the baby, and after that, I'll see how much I can get done with them on my hip." I explained. "I'm open to using a part time nursemaid, sparingly. So I can have someone hold the baby while I shower, and other such needs."

"And if you can't manage to meet your duties with our child strapped to your chest?" Feyd pressed calmly.

"Then I'll be open to using a nursemaid. Sparingly, of course." I said firmly. "Some weight could be lifted if you assisted me, you know. I don't expect you to drop everything to help me, but watching them for a few hours while I get my duties done would help a lot."

Feyd looked bewildered. "When am I supposed to find the time to do that?!"

I chuckled. "You could strap him to your chest while you do your morning run." I suggested.

"What's wrong with using the nursemaid?" Feyd probed again. "They'll be properly vetted I assure you. And the royal guard will never be far."

"Listen, I know most nobles think that seeing their child once a day for afternoon tea is being an involved parent, but I disagree." I said firmly. "I'm not going to carry this baby for nine months, go through hours of labor, love them more than I ever thought I could love anyone, and then just hand him off to a stranger to raise. I want to be the one to teach him to talk, and walk, and play with him. I know the sleepless nights when he's sick or having a tantrum will be difficult at best, but I want those hard times. I want… I want to actually be a mother."

Feyd's eyes glazed over, my words still registering as he remembered something. Some far off memory that I would likely never be privy to. He hadn't ever spoken much about either of his parents, but he avoided the topic of his mother like a snake avoiding a hawk. Perhaps there was some dusty memory in the corners of his mind of a mother that soothed his fevers, kissed his scraped up knees, and sang his nightmares away with lullabies.

"Alright." He said, a firmness in his voice that assured dependableness and security. "No wet nurses. And I'll only have two nursemaids hired, both part time."

Two nursemaids was a great improvement over the seven that the Baron had told you to expect. Seven nursemaids to attend to the future of House Harkonnen. And three wetnurses. How much could one baby eat? Perhaps the Baron expected Feyd's child to have an appetite to match his.

I smiled, leaning over and kissing Feyd's cheek. "Thank you, love. This means a lot to me."

"If you neglect your duties, I won't be able to prevent more nursemaids being hired." Feyd warned. "And if you're unable to care for our child sufficiently, I will insist on the nursemaids stepping in more."

"I understand." I said gently, resting a hand on his arm. "I just want… when our child wakes up from a nightmare, I want them to call out for me, not a nanny."

Feyd's eyes softened. He rested his hand on my belly, rubbing little circles over where our baby rested inside me. "I will never truly understand motherhood, or your desire for it. But this is important for you, so it's important to me. And… I do admit to wanting something similar."

"You do?" I asked, surprised.

"When I was a boy, I used to go to my combat instructors when I had an injury or needed advice." Feyd explains. "I was wondering the other day about which instructors I should pick for my child, and I realized… I wanted to be the one to teach them. I wanted to be the one to bandage his cuts, and correct his stance. Not some retired general I select to train him for me."

I leaned into Feyd, gasping a little as our baby moved inside me, kicking right where Feyd's hand rested. "Oh! Ugh… they're getting stronger. That one hurt a bit."

Feyd chuckled, rubbing the little outline of our baby's foot. "A strong kick. Good, they'll need that."

"I think you'll be a good father." I said, images of Feyd instructing our child, a toddler in my fantasy, on how to throw their first punch. "Just remember, little hearts need a soft touch, not just a firm hand."

Feyd's lips pressed against my forehead as our child gave another kick. Lighter this time, thankfully. "I'll try to remember that."

[loony-n-moony]

if I see one more person try to demonize either Gwen, Margo, or Jessica for some STUPID ASS SHIT I might lose my mind.

Like I’m starting to get super sick and tired of all the lowkey misogynistic takes some of you have for these characters. Like you can critique a character without making them out to be a FUCKING MONSTER.

Firstly, what fucking reason do you all have to even HATE MARGO TO BEGIN WITH??? She did not do JACK SHIT. I know why. It’s because some of you IMMATURE ASS MFS cannot handle a female character interacting with a male character that you like. That girl was sweet as sugar for the five fucking minutes of screen time she had. AND DON’T THINK FOR A SECOND I DON’T SEE SOME OF YOU RACIST MFS YOU AREN’T SLICK BITCH.

Second, I get why a lot of people are mad at Gwen. I do. I was angry too! But I also understand. She is a complex character and I love how they handled all the mistakes and all the things she went through. But the way some of you treat her like she’s a SUPER VILLAIN?? Fucked up. Wrong. Ya’ll will take an inch of flaw and go a fucking mile. Some of you have written fics about her being a HOMEWRECKER?? Or just a MALICIOUS PERSON?? Like FUCK OFF. She actively acknowledges and condemns all her own wrongdoings. But ya’ll don’t wanna hear that. And it’s for the SAME REASONS that you all hate Margo. You fucking BABIES can’t handle when a female character BREATHES AROUND A MALE CHARACTER. Just say it. It is some PICK ME GIRL ASS BULLSHIT and if I have to see it ONE MORE TIME you’ll be finding me under your FUCKING BED TONIGHT.

And lastly, the way ya’ll hate on Jessica is just plain misogynoir. She did not do HALF the shit Miguel did and I see her get dogged on CONSTANTLY. The most she did was try to help capture Miles, and be like- mildly condescending. Miguel has done far fucking worse than Jess and he gets 10x less hate than her. For such a beautiful movie- I truly expected better. Absolute FUCKING CLOWNS.

[marblepasta-creepyhornet]

EJ, Toby and Cody (plus whoever else you wanna write for lol) straight SIMPING for a plus size female reader? 🙏🙏

Read my mind, babes 💙

Creeps x Plus Size!Fem!Reader

———

EJ

No matter what you look like EJ’s always simping for you (he’ll only make it exclusively known to you and you alone). Not because of embarrassment, but only because he likes focusing any amount of love and attention he can muster to you only! 🥹

But, honey, if you’re plus sized, HE IS ON YOU LIKE BUTTER ON A SLICE OF TOAST- 😉😏

You’re thicc in all the right places and he wants you in anyway way, shape and form! He adores every inch of you 🥺

Let’s say you’re insecure, he will shower you with compliments, affection and love. But, if that isn’t your style, he’ll do anything you ask of him to help you feel better. 😩

He’d die if he saw you in a crop top and shorts! The way the shorts hugged your thighs that this man wants to be squished between, combined with your cute tummy showing, he’d be all over you! 😊 (I’d simp for you too (y/n))

If anyone in the mansion bullies you? It’s over for them. I’m serious, Jack almost killed Jeff when he felt the need to make a rude comment about you.

Toby:

He’s very vocal about your body! He loves to constantly remind you that you’re pretty and beautiful (it especially helps on days where you’re feeling insecure 😣). Like his words calm you down and help you feel better. He’s always making sure that you know that he loves you and doesn’t want you to doubt yourself :)

He will literally start fights if anyone makes a derogatory comment about your body 👊😤

This man will W O R S H I P you! When yall are in the bedroom, he’s kissing every part of your body and bringing the praise comments 🥺🥺🥺

“S-s-so pretty,” “All mi-mi-mine,” “M-my pretty gir-girl,” (need me a man or woman like this fr 🫣)

He’s a 100/10 simp for you!

Cuddling? You’re big spoon most of the time (not that you mind)

Circling back onto days where you feel insecure, Toby will help cheer you up by spending the day doing things you like.

He’s very committed 😌

Hugs from behind are a given, just accept it. He loves showing his love for your body through physical touch 🧡

Also- one night while walking through the woods, Toby heard some assholes making fun of you and he fucked them up- ANYWAYS 😗

Cody (X-Virus)

Like EJ and Toby, he’s all for worship, BUT he isn’t as vocal of the two-

(Also how you look literally doesn’t matter) sweetie, here’s there for your intelligence, but not in the way of using you, but in the way of him wanting to be near you 👀

He’ll have you sitting in his lap while he’s writing in his lab, you get lowkey paranoid that you’re too heavy and you’ll try to move, but bro is dragging you right back 🙂‍↕️

Now, I like to think that a bit like EJ, he likes to be creative in his free time, so one day while you two are in his lab, he’ll sketch you while you’re sitting around 🥹

ROMANTIC GESTURES!!! This man is all for buying you flowers, chocolates, and whatever else to show you that he loves you.

Also if he hears anyone talking shit, he kidnaps them as a lab rat for tortuous experiments ;)

As for cuddling? Say he’s sat on the edge of the bed waiting for you when you come into view from the doorway. He’s instantly wrapping his arms around you and gently pulling you into bed with him- 😭 (I’m gonna be sick-)

HEAR ME OUT! HE STEALS YOUR HOODIES! MF sneaks into your closet and just *YOINK* 🏃💨

It’s honestly so cute how your hoodies look so oversized on him- they go down almost to his knees and covers his whole arm to a little past the tips of his fingers.

But you don’t mind though because he’s honestly the best thing to happen to you and he appreciates you 😭

[iatnen]

Thank you for replying to me! 🙈

Do you have character sheets for Daniel? I’d love to see how you characterise him and what kind of personality he has. I have no artistic talent AT ALL so I live vicariously through different artists on tumblr who draw their MC, so thank you for entertaining me ❤️

HI AGAIN ANON

I actually did not have a character sheet ready when you sent this so I had to scramble to make one for you LMAO I sorta based it on @choccy-milky’s char sheet since I had no idea how to make one…… Also kinda crazy how he looks so different than when I first drew him just a week ago…

But erm yeah I guess I can try to tell a little bit about Daniel’s character even though I still haven’t thought too deeply about it. I’ll try to keep it brief 😰

Basic description of Daniel’s personality:

Competitive: likes to win/be the best, loves sports (Quidditch ofc 😼 !!!), a bit of a perfectionist, gets frustrated with little mistakes

Stubborn: doesn’t know how to quit, the type of guy to go to Quidditch practice even when he’s sick, needs a lot of convincing to get him to listen 😅, when he’s locked in he’s LOCKED IN

Independent: prefers to handle things on his own, doesn’t like receiving help from others, can work in a team but would just be off doing his own thing

Emotionally reserved: isn’t great with emotions especially his own, bottles up feelings/ignores them, often leans more towards being logical in decision-making situations rather than emotional

Awkward: ………yeah 👍

Lowkey just a chill guy who doesn’t gaf (but actually does secretly gaf)

As for his relationship with Sebastian aside from the canon game events, they both love quidditch so that bonded them even closer together as teammates. I think that slowly they both begin to mutually notice each other but don't want to speak up in fear of ruining their friendship and also they’re just in denial…. So they resort to just teasing each other and being like “let’s kiss each other to see what kissing a girl feels like” 😅

I’m so sorry it’s not really detailed…. Like I said I haven’t thought much about it/still in progress of building him and also cuz I didn’t want to make this post too long cuz who wants to read all that yap. BUUUUT I am drafting up a fanfic about them, not sure how long I want it to be tho 😰 Hopefully that will give you guys more info of his character and see their dynamic in action. WRITING IS SO HARD kudos to all you writers !!! If only I can write as good as I can draw 😿 Don’t expect it to be up anytime soon tho IT MIGHT NEVER EVEN BE POSTED WHO KNOWS !!!! DON’T EXPECT ANYTHING !!!! I PROBABLY SHOULDN’T TELL YOU THAT IF I CANT PROMISE IT BUT WHATEVS !!!! 😰😰😰

[velvateen]

Hi you, I'm writing to you from Belgium! Thank you so much for your work, omg I love your writing so much!!! (you managed to make me get SICK butterflies in my stomach on your fiction "i am your singer" -smut LMAO-)

I'd like to suggest a story idea for zoro, I dreamt about him yesterday and in my dream he always found an excuse to get into the rooms I was in (very often the bathroom… While I was showering of course…) (example: it's dinner time // we're looking for you everywhere, I wanted to make sure you were okay…) Would you be willing to smut this dream into reality? 💚

(of course, it's a proposal, you're free to choose! Thank you so much for reading! 🥰)

don’t bother knocking - zoro x reader nsfw

hiiiii tysm for the request this is lowkey one of my fav pieces for this blog yet lol. enjoy!!

warnings: oral sex (m receiving), unprotected sex, fem bodied reader, no pronouns used

1.6k words

You ran your hands through your hair, making sure all of the soap had been wrung out. Ears blocked by water, you nearly missed the squeak of the door hinge as it opened. Sticking your head out of the shower, you saw Zoro, leaning against the counter.

“Can I help you?” You drew back into the water.

“No,” he hummed, “Just wanted to let you know that dinner’s ready.”

“Alright, yeah, I’ll be out in a minute! Don’t let them all wait up for me, alright?”

He grunted in response, and it took a few more seconds for you to hear the door open and close again.

Weird. Whatever. You stepped out of the shower, spotting wet footprints across the bathmat as you dried yourself off.

Zoro’s been acting this way lately. Always seeming to be where you want to go. Always showing up where you are. You try not to read too much into stuff with Zoro, maybe it’s just his way of trying to be closer friends with you. He’s got so many lofty aspirations that it’s hard for you to justify what your heart wants and what the crew already sees unfolding: Zoro’s got a thing for you. He just doesn’t know how to show it.

You towel off your hair and make your way to the kitchen, where you take your seat next to Zoro. Luffy is lunging for everyone’s plates although they’re all almost done eating, Zoro included. You sigh as you start to eat, relishing in the taste of Sanji’s perfect meal, and you rest your head on your hand as you start to pick at the plate. Distracted by the dinner, you don’t notice how close your arm on the table has gotten to Zoro’s. The heat of the shower is radiating off of your skin and onto his, and the hair on his arms raises. He fights the blush that settles on his ears, making no effort to pull away from your touch.

He stays there long after he’s finished eating.

The knock on your door is most unexpected, at this hour. You get out of your bed, setting down the book you’d been reading, and peek through the sliver of the door. When you see who it is, you open it wider.

“Oh hey, what’s up?” Zoro avoids your gaze a bit. Not completely, just enough to notice. He shrugs.

“Was bored. Mind if I hang out with you?”

You lick your lips. Zoro notices.

“Yeah, come on in, I was just reading,” you back away from the door and fall back into place on your bed. Picking up your book, Zoro sits on the side of your bed.

“What’s this about?” You take the book from him and set it down on your nightstand.

“I don’t really know yet, just started it tonight. But the cover is pretty so that means its gotta be good,” you laugh.

“Pretty sure there’s a phrase advising directly against that way of thinking but whatever,” Zoro mutters. You lean against the headboard as you laugh.

“Right, yeah, ‘don’t judge a book by its cover’, well I happen to find that is the best method to finding anything good.”

“Is that right?” Zoro inches unperceptively closer to you, the arm bracing himself now over your legs.

“Yeah, that’s right.” Zoro licks his lips. You notice.

“What have you been doing hanging out with me so much? What’s the angle?”

“No angle.”

“No angle?”

“Maybe there’s an angle,” he smiles. His eyes dart down to your lips for a fraction of a second, but long enough to ignite a heat that’s started to burn in your stomach. Maybe, you realize, it’s been burning for a while now.

Zoro’s grown closer to you now, something you both realize. But the realization doesn’t make you pull away, not now that he’s got a hand cupping your jaw and tilting your face as if he’s practiced it a thousand times, just for this. Just for you.

You eyes close slowly as you feel the touch of warm, chapped, rough lips ghost your own. It’s as if he’s afraid to push too hard, to break a spell or scare you off, he touches you so dearly. The kiss deepens slightly, but never in a rough way, no, Zoro’s staked so much on this moment to ever make any motion that might scare you off.

You pull away, a giddy laugh making it’s way past your lips. Zoro searches your eyes for any trace of doubt or unrequited emotion, but he doesn’t find it. And he can’t help but catch that infectious laugh, that smile that cracks across your face with such abandon that it takes all of his efforts to not let it consume the entirety of his soul. It does anyway. You lean back up and let Zoro follow you down to where you sat against the headboard, and he moved to straddle you, running a hand through your hair and gently holding by the roots, committing all of these feelings to memory. He’s waited long enough to feel you, and now that he’s got you in his hands, he wants nothing more than to break down every wall you’ve built around yourself, to touch your skin, to sink into you.

He sinks his teeth, experimentally, into you. Not to damage, but to be able to look back tomorrow at breakfast and know that it wasn’t all a dream. Your fingers make his earrings clink as you run a thumb over them, tugging his ear close to your mouth.

“You wanna?” You whisper, the soft smile you’re wearing evident in your cadence.

“If you’ll let me,” he answers, trying not to give himself away. He does anyways. His hands, antsy to roam, have made their way down to your pajama pants and make a move to tug, but you pull away.

“Me first.”

You move to the floor, and Zoro’s hand flies to your nape, not wanting to lose touch with you for a second. His pants have pooled near you on the floor, and with it come his boxers. You lick your lips. And boy, does he notice.

The grip he has on your hair tightens, but is never harsh. Never with you. Even as your lips and tongue start to envelop and swirl around the tip of his dick. Never harsh. Even when his other hand clenches tightly into the mattress. Even as you take him further, noting every vein present and pulsing under your administrations. Even as he fights the urge to tell you every thought he’s ever had about you. Never harsh. Even when his hand leaves your hair to wipe tears brimming at your eyes, he does it with such tenderness that you start to question if the tears are from the gag at all.

Zoro pulls away from you, clearly a motion of great strain, and he pulls you back up to the bed, where you finally kick off those damn pajama pants. Laying down, Zoro’s eyes ask an unspoken affirmation from you, as his fingers hook around the edges of your underwear. You nod, and the haste of which he pulls them down makes you laugh. His lips are back on yours, tasting your laughter, until he pulls away to cup a hand on your cheek, slipping his thumb into your mouth, greeted by an unexpecting hum. He draws it out of your mouth with a pop, and brings it down to your center, dragging it across your folds, holding you open. You take in a sharp inhale as he rubs his thumb across your clit in circular, steady motions. He smiles, watching as you start to clench around nothing, and all for him. His lips are back on your neck, kissing further down until they ghost over your chest, pause, and continue kissing over the cloth of your shirt. Your back arches towards his warm breath, the fire in your stomach reaching a blaze. Your hands are all over his back as he continues to work you open, steadily puting more pressure on your nerves. You groan at the feeling, impatience starting to wear you down.

Zoro hears the quickening of your breath, and decides to sink a finger into you, working it around to get you adjusted. You huff in exasperation as he pulls away, only long enough to get himself settled towards you. His hand is above your head as he angles himself, dragging his dick along your folds. You groan in unison as you feel each other’s warmth, the culmination of all this waiting paying off after all these years. He sinks in, slightly, not so much to satiate you by any means, no, but it’s enough to get you adjusted.

Zoro takes a deep breath, and lets it go as he slides fully, sheathed impossibly tight within you.

You take a deep breath, and you let it go as you’re filled, depths reached.

“Good?”

“Good.”

With your affirmation, he moves, slowly at first, and then picking up the pace. But never harsh, never abrasive.

Not tonight.

There will be other nights, nights with less on the line, where Zoro will allow himself to tear into you, to deny and restrain you, but not tonight.

Tonight, Zoro focuses on loving you, which comes easily, given that it seems as he was born to do just that.

_____

The warmth of the hot water soothes your legs as you bend down to turn the shower off. The cool air of the night hits you as you step out of the shower, not surprised to see Zoro leaning against the counter. He watches as you wrap the towel around yourself.

“Can I help you?” You muse, tucking the towel in and wrapping your arms around his shoulders. He smiles at you, resting his hands on your waist.

“Nope,” he presses a kiss onto your lips, “no angle here.”

a/n: hey everypony mwahahaha almost got carried away w this one it’s like one billion words. anyways school is still kicking my ass. sorry responding to this took so long!! hope everyone has a good day and eats good food! okay bye kitties meow

[tongjaitongjai]

I want Daegal live! AU, where he survived and became Merlin’s apprentice and Merlin just particularly adopted him. Merlin ADORED the boy, and Daegal highly respected Merlin and helped him share the burden of secrets.

And it became unofficial known that people needed Daegal’s approval if they want to court Merlin, and Merlin was OBLIVIOUS to this.

Daegal, however, took his position seriously and became the ultimate gatekeeper. Not even the king of Camelot could get through him easily. Daegal also lowkey hated it when Arthur didn’t treat Merlin nicely because he knew about the behind-the-scenes stuff/ secret missions Merlin’d done for Arthur.

Arthur: where is Merlin? Tell him I am taking him to a hunting trip with me tomorrow

Daegal: Why should I let him go with you?

Arthur:

Arthur: I am the King of Camelot.

Daegal: Any remarkable skill from your job as the king that can tell me that you can make Merlin happy during this ‘hunting trip’?

Arthur: I AM LITERALLY THE KING OF CAMELOT AND HE IS MY SERVANT

Daegal: And?

Arthur:

Arthur: What the hell is going on I just want Merlin on a hunting trip with me.

Daegal: Merlin hates hunting. Come back when you are taking him to do something he actually enjoys.

Arthur: I AM THE KING OF CAMELOT AND I WILL NOT ANSWER TO THE LIKES OF YOU

Daegal: I saved your life once and this is how you treat me? I am telling Merlin you yelled at me and being classist.

Arthur:

Arthur: Fine! i will take him to a nice picnic next week?

Daegal: Do submit the trip’s proposal two days in advance

Daegal: Also, he cannot go on the hunting trip with you tomorrow because he hates hunting, and I don’t want him doing things he hates. I will be sick tomorrow, and Gaius is away, so he must stay to take care of me.

Arthur:

Arthur: YOU ARE INSANE

Daegal: THE KING IS YELLING AT ME. MERLI—-

Arthur (covering Daegal’s mouth): The proposal will be ready by tomorrow.

He was closed to Mordred as they shared great respect for Merlin. But Mordred is the number one Merthur shipper. So, they are like siblings, but one wants their parents divorced while another is convinced that their parents are soulmates. (Also, Mordred might be a bit bitter that Merlin took Daegal as an apprentice but kept avoiding him.)

Mordred: This is ridiculous, Daegal. Just let them go. Despite what you might think, Merlin enjoys being with Arthur.

Daegal: BUT HE HATES HUNTING AND THE KING INSULTS HIM EVERYTIME THEY GO HUNTING!!!

Mordred: You cannot take away their time together! You just don’t like it when Merlin is away. Stop being so CHILDISH!!!

Daegal: CHILDISH!? SAID SIR KNIGHT MORDRED, WHO ALMOST CRIED WHEN MERLIN DID NOT WAVE BACK TO HIM LAST WEEK! YOU CRYBABY! THIS IS WHY MERLIN DOESN'T LIKE YOU!

Mordred: MOTHERFUC——

Merlin: Sir Mordred, are you insulting my apprentice just because he is lower ranked and younger than you?

Mordred: No, Emrys, but this boy is trying to separate you from the king—-

Daegal: SIR MORDRED WAS THE ONE WHO BROKE YOUR FAVOURITE GREEN POT LAST WEEK. YOU WOULDN’T TALK TO HIM SO HE SNEAKED INTO THE TOWER TO SEE YOU AND KNOCKED IT OFF THE SHELF!

Mordred: BITCH YOU SAID YOU WOULD NEVER TELL—-

[octuscle]

hey dude, I’m not a writer, but a bro sent me this request and I think the chronivac team can help him out

I’m a 21 year old gay geek who lives in a very loving but nerdy family. My dad is a geek who has been taking me to gaming conventions since I was little. Me and all my brothers take after him. I love my family, but I’ve always wondered what it would have been like growing up with a jock family. Could I have been the jock I fantasize about being if I had more masculine influences in my life?

March 10th, 2024

I never thought my family would turn into a bunch of fitness fanatics, but here we are. Mom, Dad, even my little brothers, they're all obsessed with this new super athletic lifestyle. Protein shakes, chicken breasts, and hours at the gym have become the norm in our household.

I used to be content with my telescope and chessboard, but now I find myself being dragged to the gym and force-fed protein shakes. It's like my family has become a cult, and I'm the reluctant follower. I'm not sure how I feel about all of this.

March 25th, 2024

I can't believe how quickly things have changed. Just a few weeks ago, I was the nerdy kid who spent his days studying the stars and playing chess. Now, I'm a typical high school jock, hanging out with the popular crowd and making fun of anyone who doesn't fit in.

I've traded my telescope for dumbbells and my chessboard for a football. And the worst part? I'm starting to enjoy it. I feel powerful and invincible, like I can do anything. But I'm also starting to notice a mean streak in myself that I never knew existed.

April 10th, 2024

I've become a bully. I can't believe I'm saying that, but it's true. I'm the one pushing kids into lockers and stealing their lunch money now. And the worst part? I'm not even sorry about it.

I've also developed this gross habit of forcing kids to smell the stench from my sweaty armpit after football practice. It's like I get some sick pleasure out of humiliating others. What has happened to me?

April 30th, 2024

Yo, dude, like, physically, I'm a whole new person now. Went from a scrawny little dude to a 280-pound muscle beast. My clothes are bursting at the seams, and I gotta turn sideways to squeeze through doors. But hey, ain't complaining - diggin' all the stares I'm getting. And guess what? Bagged a wrestling scholarship to a college out in the Midwest. Me, the dude who used to daydream about space and stuff, gonna be slammin' in the ring for a college team. It's bonkers, but man, I'm totally stoked about it.

May 20th, 2024

Yo, OMG, peeps! I am legit ecstatic right now, like I never in a million years thought I'd be uttering those words, but BOOM, it's straight facts, fam! E'en though I've gone through some major transformations, like morphing into this 280-pound jacked AF bodybuilder who lowkey bullies nerds, I am L-I-V-I-N-G my best life and am beyond stoked about it! I've finally discovered where I belong in this crazy world, and that's under them bright lights on the wrestling mat, ready to throw down and slam some bodies, chug some protein shakes, and maybe, just maybe, dial back on the bully vibes a smidge. Here's to the next epic chapter in my saga, AKA living my dream and taking names! #OnTopOfTheWorld #LivingMyTruth #BodySlamsAndBulkingBro