#went on break and ate Everything
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Me after working a 10.5 hour shift on cinema day
#went in at 11:45 am left at 10:15 pm#there was a pint when literally every single employee minus the two in the hospital was there#we were all getting paid time and a half so Everyone came in early and stayed late to get more money#like. this was $200+ for one shift#everybody was scheduled at least 9 hours and was required to work today#would get written up if you called out#I cleaned 50 theaters#honestly I was reading today all week But it was actually good#*dreading#everyone was In a really good mood?#it felt like field day#a lot of people were kind of over it by the end tho. the one I brought with me to usher for the second half was Miserable and crying by the#end :( she was so happy earlier#we got tips cause a customer saw her crying surrounded by trash#honestly I’m still in a pretty good mood#ooo our manager brought in a shit ton of pizzas and we got free sandwiches from firehouse subs#there were chips and cookies and brownies#went on break and ate Everything#overall a good day#I am very sweaty#moral of the story Pick Up Your Damn Trash When You See A Movie Dont Be An Ass#cinema day#movie#work#job
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I'm rewatching angel season 5 and is it just me or is it absolutely devastating?? Like the way they give up the good old fight and decide to succumb to the temptation wolfram and hart dangles in front of them.. (oh look fred you'll have the best lab hehe etc) It feels so evil: for them to assimilate into corporate life and try to pretend to themselves that they're still doing good. "Oh we have the resources to do more good now! We've never done this much good!" Okay, i also bet you've never done this much bad either. Like points to the writers for originality ig because i DID NOT see them ever being in charge of wolfram and hart..but it's really disheartening and devastating to see lorne's passion for music and helping others being distorted into him working in the entertainment industry as some kind of manager who has to put up with and kiss the ass of rich celebrities just because thats the way the music business works. Or gunn!! You cant tell me Gunn would not absolutely HATE who he becomes!! A lawyer who sets out to defend evil clients, using his skills to take advantage of insidious legislation to make money rather than "helping the helpless"??Idk its literally so sad.
#i dont remeber how this show ends#i dont remember what the message is#but im. its hard to watch. its hard to watch them assimilate into corporate hell#ats#this show went to hell as soon as they started cordelia's narrative murder#where is she?? she literally makes or breaks the show#and her absence literally destroys everything#because season 4 cordelia doesnt even count lets face it
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I thought I would walk some additional 14 km today and thus burn my accidental lunch (caved into peer pressure and went to a restaurant and had a salad instead of eating my perfectly counted can of tuna) and as such I agreed to go have breakfast with some friends tomorrow to celebrate the end of the excursion.
But I did not walk those 14 km because I wasn't able to get water + I just finished 12 hours of lectures + my arches were killing me + it was raining + I wanted to shower + I wanted to study + I was fucking freezing.
Which means I have to punish myself for my lack of discipline and I also have to make up for the food and that means I CANNOT have that breakfast. In fact I cannot have anything. For 2 days. Just to be sure.
So now I'm trying to figure out what lie I can make up. Currently thinking about saying that I just started to feel really nauseous all of a sudden and as such I unfortunately cannot eat breakfast oopsie. It feels really random and not really believable though.
#god this is so tiring. i wish i wasn't me so i could just live. people don't have to be ideal to earn being tolerated but i do#people don't even have an ideal and there should never be one. but there is one for me and the court of the world expects me to#always fit it. it's a competition and the jury is judging me. I'm constantly trying to win the case. to make the judge rule me innocent#of what I don't know. of everything i suppose.#but it's just exhausting. and I'm not sure if it's more exhausting to just give up and follow whatever the nagging voice says or#if it's more exhausting to fight it. i feel horrible and full of guilt and shame and terror either way so does it really matter?#if i die because my heart gives out or if i die by my own hand?#apparently bulimics have a much higher self-harm percentage but i personally have a tendency to harm my body after i eat#i don't want to do it but i recognise that that's partly exactly why i want to. my emotional torment is probably much more#of a goal than the physical pain. there's a part of me that wants to lead psychological warfare against me#and you know what it's like. it's fine. i accepted that i would die by my own hand a long time ago. I've always said that#i don't know when and that it might be in two decades or a year or a month or a day; but that one day i would go past the breaking#point and kill myself.#i think it's an inevitability of my life and I'm fine with that. someone has to kill themselves. someone has to be that number#in the statistics. there is no reason for it not to be me and if not me it'd be someone else#so it's fine#but yeah it's like...well it's been a run...not sure if a good one...but it's been a run and considering how much i just don't care anymore#i think this time it's really it. and i have a lot of responsibilities so I'm really pissed about it#but listen I'm just exhausted. my every waking thought is plagued by counting and avoiding reflective surfaces and wanting#nothing more than to stare into reflective surfaces for 20 minutes straight and check for every imperfection and irregularity#and check if everything is the same as the day before. i don't know if i should trust my eyes or my emotions or my logic#i don't know which is which. half of my brain power is devoted to making up plausible lies. 'i had a stomach bug earlier'#'im just really nauseous. yea accidentally had lactose earlier.' 'my stomach hurts so i shouldn't eat anything' 'i ate before i came here'#'oh i said i didn't have anything with me? i uhhh i went shopping yesterday evening actually'#i can't focus at all. I'm either too tired or the voice is too loud and too aggressive. i have no idea how I'm going to pass my classes
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Apparently you have to eat more than half a serving of Mac and cheese, two shots of daytime cold medicine, and half a can of monster when you��re recovering from a cold or else you feel worse
#eating some Mac and cheese left overs from this morning and took some bites of the pizza my brother made and only ate two pieces of and then#didn’t want any more like >:(#HE CHOSE WHEN IM SICK TO MAKE THE PIZZA I LIKE#I grabbed two pieces on a plate and they will probably stay on that plate until tomorrow#maybe I’ll pick at them idk#I took four bites of pizza and a couple bites of Mac and cheese and now all I want to do is nap#I am exhausted I hate being sick I hate being sick and on my period I hate being sick on my period and trying to go to work anyways#I am embarrassed !!! I was literally talking to a customer and then was like hey jasmine im gonna go take five in the break room I just got#really dizzy and she said you can take 15 that’s fine and I apologized to the customer and then was miserable until my body relaxed and I#went back up front and went hey how badly do you need me tonight and she was like let me get two things done and then you can head out#I love my new job#📤#my old job was so understaffed that I was the only person in the building like if I felt sick I went in anyways it was miserable#I feel bad for calling out and leaving early two out of three days I work this week like gahhhh I hate myself for it but obviously I need it#my body is literally like bitch if you will not rest I will force you to fucking rest#I have just been knocked on my ass this week I am so exhausted but my brain is awake but it’s not all here like it won’t shut up but nothing#makes any since I think that’s the caffeine I think I made everything worse thinking I could just power through it#but I was so close to falling asleep before work#you see looking back there were many signs I simply ignored bc I didn’t want to call out again
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Stepbrother's Room.
Erick never liked the idea of going to live with his stepfather and stepbrother, but his mother thought differently, So here he is, living with his stepbrother and stepfather for 1 month now.
The ideas he had about James (his stepfather) changed a lot since he started living with him, he no longer found him stressful or grumpy, But Gio (his stepbrother) made his life difficult, whenever he crossed paths with him he would make fun of him, calling him a faggot, 4 eyes and all those cliché insults.
But that was not the worst, Erick endured all the insults, the worst was yet to come when his mother and stepfather said that he was going to stay with his stepbrother since they were going on their honeymoon, Erick didn't want this to happen. now just imagining that it would only be the two of them alone, Erick began to tremble.
The day arrived, his mother and stepfather packed and left the two boys at home, Gio turned to look at Erick while smiling at him and giving him a grimace.
"They're really crazy if they think I'm staying with you, you f*ggot freak"
Gio commented as he got up from the couch and walked out the door, leaving Erick alone watching TV.
"Better for me, home alone and without having to put up with you"
Erick commented in a low tone while Gio closed the door.
The hours passed, Erick finished watching TV, ate alone, washed his dishes and that's how he went to sleep knowing that tomorrow he wouldn't see Gio either until his parents arrived, He went to bed with a smile and closed his eyes.
The night passed and the day began to shine, the sun began to set through the window as the clock rang, Erick yawned, wiped his eyes and got out of bed and headed straight to the bathroom, It was time to take a shower since he didn't do it yesterday because he was lazy.
Once he finished showering, he went to his closet to put on his favorite outfit, a blue shirt, his short red shorts, and his boxers, but when he looked for his clothes he couldn't find anything and wrinkled his face.
"Mom must have made a mistake and put my clothes in that idiot's room... Damn it" Erick cursed as he went to Gio's room, when he opened the door the smell of hormones, exercise, and sweat invaded his nose.
But what surprised Erick the most was that there were no clothes lying around and everything was in order, Erick knew that Gio was the typical dumb straight jock so why was his room so clean and tidy?
He shook his head, he didn't come for that, he just came to get his clothes, but something was calling his attention, on his bed there was a transparent male thong and a toy, so Erick approached.
When he grabbed the toy he was surprised, it was a rubber sex toy from a woman's intimate part, he grabbed the thong and smelled it, it had the smell of Gio, Even though he was his stepbrother, Erick began to fall in love with Gio, and how could he not? Gio was tall, muscular, bearded, and had just turned 25 years old.
The moment Erick smelled Gio's thong he head started to spin and a heat began to grow in him while his small 5-centimeter cock became erect and hard, His head moved on its own as Erick looked at Gio's toy, he climbed onto the bed and sat down as he began to insert his cock into the fake rubber entrance.
His hands began to rise with the toy between them as Erick moaned in pleasure but he knew something was wrong, He would never get excited by seeing a sex toy, much less a p*ssy he was homosexual, not heterosexual, He tried to stop but it was as if his hands were moving on their own.
""Fuck... No, this-this is wrong... But.. DAMN IT, this feels so good" Erick commented between moans and gasps.
While Erick had his eyes closed, his body began to change, his feet began to grow in size until they reached a large 16 size, while a masculine smell came out of them and hair too.
His legs and thighs also underwent a change, his once thin legs were now full of muscles, they looked like trunks, capable of breaking a watermelon, A layer of hair also came out on them.
His buttocks, which were of a normal size, began to enlarge as his hole began to close, No one would ever put a cock in his ass again, now he had two buttocks like bubbles, big and firm.
His stomach started to burn as all the baby fat he had started to disappear to make way for a well-worked, firm and desired 6-pack of abs.
His chest, which was thin and flaccid, began to expand outwards as two large and sensitive pectorals began to emerge, he now had 2 large pectorals created by the gods.
His torso began to expand as well to give him a more masculine, more jock look.
Erick wasn't realizing this, the only thing he had in mind was feeling that toy p*ssy around his hard cock.
His back began to expand to give him a more manly and mature look, while muscles also began to emerge on it, his shoulders also lengthened.
His biceps and arms began to change, his biceps began to enlarge to look like the size of balls and his arms began to fill with hair while now his veins were more noticeable.
His hands began to grow larger as he held the toy, his fingers lengthening as they now looked more masculine, while veins also popped out.
His Adam's apple became more noticeable, making his moans more manly and masculine.
Next was his face, it started to change and his bones started to crack as his whole face changed, His jaw became slimmer and more defined, his lips grew a little in size while his nose was now cuter, his eyes that were green changed to a brown color, A 5 o'clock beard started to appear on his jaw making him look hotter and more handsome.
His hair that was almost blonde in color began to lose its shine as a new color began to bloom in his hair, a brown color, His haircut also changed, giving it a more masculine and jock cut.
His Adam's apple stood out, making his moans sound much more mature and masculine, when he heard his new voice he opened his eyes, he recognized this voice as Gio's voice.
The moment he saw the mirror in front of him, he was surprised, there was Gio jerk off in his bed, but... Gio was not at home, there was only him.
"What the fuck!? Gio? What's going on?" Erick commented while continuing to jerk off.
But before Erick could react, he saw his cock grow larger and thicker as he was about to break the toy.
"No... It can't be, I can't be Gio, I can't be that idiot!
But just then he came inside the fake p*ssy, causing his past self to come out along with his c*m.
"FUCK... That felt so fucking great... Ryan didn't lie to me that a fake p*ssy was better than a real one, good thing that freak f*ggot isn't here, house to myself"
gio took his cock out of the toy, he cleaned and got out of bed putting on his thong, Once he put on his thong he sat back down on his bed waiting for his stepbrother to arrive so he could continue harassing him.
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Power Play (Soldier Boy x Reader)
Summary: So, you lost focus and had a consensual workplace relationship. It happens all the time. Maybe not quite like this.
Note: Female reader, but no other descriptors are used. Crazy ass 80s Vought debauchery. I might be a little rusty, but it was fun getting back into writing readerfics after two months🖤 Do not interact if you’re under 18, terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.
Word count: 1.5k
Warnings: Power imbalance, cheating (Soldier Boy’s with Crimson Countess). Mentions of drug use. Soldier Boy is his own warning. Sexually explicit content involving elements of forced intox, semi-public sex, breeding kink.
You were dizzy. With Vought’s investor gala rapidly approaching, you spent the better part of your day camped out in your office, flipping back and forth through your rolodex to call and confirm catering, entertainment—you still couldn’t believe the board of directors actually approved Duran Duran’s booking fee—and transportation, off the top of your head. You already told Stan Edgar you were taking the following week off, which he had no qualms about—so long as the gala went off without a hitch.
You nearly jumped out of your skin when you were interrupted by a knock at your office door, which you’d left open in an effort to be available in the lead up to the event.
“Don’t tell me Edgar’s got you working tonight,” Soldier Boy said, walking in when he saw he had your attention.
“The most important night of the year is less than a week away and I still have a to-do list as long as your dick, so, yeah.”
He huffed out a laugh. “Must be pretty busy then.”
“How about you? Where’s Countess?” you asked.
Soldier Boy probably would have sought you out even if Crimson Countess were around, but from what you’d been hearing through Vought’s extensive grapevine, they were in yet another rough patch. Though, it seemed to you like their relationship was one long, extremely rough patch with some calm once in a blue moon. You weren’t afraid to admit to yourself that you ate up the gossip of their relationship like candy, especially when the other members of Payback—including Countess herself—would rant to Edgar about it. Since your office was right next to his, and most supes had little to no sense of subtlety, you could hear just about everything.
“She’s at one of those wildlife charity things, pandas or some bullshit.” He rolled his eyes. “Bitched at me because I wouldn’t go. She won’t be back until Friday.”
“Soldier Boy, I can’t just—“
“Sure you can. I mean, I’m technically your boss too, aren’t I?” he asked. “So, I say there’s no harm in taking a ten, fifteen minute break. Relieve some stress.”
You sighed. It had been a while since you actually got up from your desk. “Alright. Fifteen minutes, tops.”
He grinned. “Now we’re talking. You keep that minibar stocked?”
“Pick your poison.”
“Whiskey?”
“Sure.”
At least, you were pretty sure. The minibar in your office served as a nice gesture for the variety of people who’d come into your office for meetings related to all of the aspects of event planning you were in charge of. Over the past few weeks, though, you’d been reaching for bottles of whatever you could find to relieve the stress. Powdered your nose every so often, but tried not to make that a habit—not that you blamed your coworkers who did. Working at Vought was brutal and demanding, but hell, who else got to work with superheroes? Especially handsome, smarmy assholes who knew just how to fuck the lingering thoughts of any deadline or event planning out of your mind if you played your cards right.
He handed you a shot glass. “What should we toast to?”
“To taking next week off.”
“Yeah? What’ve you got planned?”
You threw back your shot. “Nothing.”
“That’s no fun. How does a few days in Miami sound?”
You nearly scoffed. Of course he could make something like that happen on such short notice. For forty years running he was America’s superhero and Vought’s cash cow. After a night of schmoozing at the investor gala, he could very well clear out his schedule and fuck off for a week of sun, sand, and sex, too.
“I might need some convincing.”
“Then make yourself comfortable,” he said, walking back to the minibar to pour another shot for each of you. Almost comical, he’d have to drink the whole bottle and then some to feel the same way you did after two shots.
You glanced at the open door. “Someone might see.”
“Are you gonna make me repeat myself?”
Sparing the door one more glance, you worked at unbuttoning your blouse, tossing it aside. You shimmied out of your skirt and let it fall to the floor.
“Heels stay on,” he said, his back to you. “Everything else off. Everything.”
With a hesitant huff, you unhooked your bra and pulled off your panties, throwing them in his direction when he turned around with the shot glasses. You made yourself comfortable on top of your desk, pushing some of your belongings aside to accommodate you.
He whistled lowly as you quickly finished off the second shot he gave you. “Look at you sitting pretty for me.” His green eyes burned a hole through you, though your gaze was fixed on the prominent bulge in his pants. He brought his shot glass to your lips. “Drink up, sweetheart.”
And you did, forcing the alcohol down as your vision blurred with tears at the unrelenting burning in the back of your throat. Felt some whiskey dripping from the corners of your mouth when you drained the shot glass. He collected the excess from your lips with his thumb, sucking it clean as he kept his eyes locked with yours.
“See how much fun we have together?” he asked, leaning over you until you laid back on top of your desk. “Could do that all next week.”
He kissed you, hard and mean like you needed him to. Perfect teeth that caught your bottom lip between them for a moment before releasing. Whiskey on his tongue that went to your head even though you knew he could hardly feel it. Rough hands feeling up your breasts, giving your nipples a harsh tug that made you moan in his mouth.
“You’re soaked,” he said, his voice husky as he rubbed his fingers between your slick folds with tantalizingly slow strokes. “If you wanted it, all you had to do was ask.”
“Fuck,” you whispered.
“What was that?”
You groaned in frustration. “Just fuck me already.”
“Don’t have to tell me twice.”
His mouth was on yours again, nearly distracting you from the sound of a zipper, the your gut clenching in anticipation as he pulled his cock from his pants.
It’d been a while since you had to brace yourself to take him, but you were wet, and maybe a little more than tipsy, so your body gave little resistance when he slid his cock inside you. Though, if Soldier Boy were anything, it was a guy who took what he wanted anyway, giving you hardly a second to get used to the feeling of how his cock stretched your pussy before he was pounding into you with harsh, unforgiving thrusts that made you grip the edge of your desk.
Sometimes you forgot how strong he was. Hell, so did he, and there was little else you could do but lay there and take what he gave you. In all honesty, it was nice letting someone else take charge after having to hold it together all day. Let him fuck the stress out of you and replace it with all the aches and bruises that came with having sex with the strongest man on earth.
“Harder,” you forced out, pushing that damn rolodex onto the floor.
“I go any harder, I’m gonna break you in half, and I don’t wanna do that until I’ve got you locked away in a hotel room for a week.”
“What are you gonna do to me?”
“Whatever the fuck I want. Not like I don’t already.”
You moaned. “Soldier Boy—”
“I’m not pulling out, so you better be on the pill or say your damn prayers,” he growled, his hot breath kissing your skin. You were on the pill, but nevertheless your hips bucked at his words, pussy clenching around his cock. “Oh shit, you want that, don’t you?”
“Yes—oh my god!” you cried out, muscles cramping as your orgasm pulsed through you, pleasure stealing your breath, choking you gently enough to leave you dizzy. “Yesyesyes—fuck!” Your heart was beating so fast you thought it was going to explode in your chest, especially as he kept mercilessly pounding into you, chasing his own release.
He soon came with a groan, his cock twitching inside you as he bottomed out, practically knocking the wind out of you with a particularly hard thrust.
You felt empty and sticky when he pulled out, and you didn’t want to think about the poor soul who was gonna be cleaning the mess you and him left behind the following morning, because you sure as hell weren’t in any shape to clean up the cum that was leaking out of you and onto the floor.
You put your hands on your chest, trying to catch your breath as he stood over you. The guy hardly broke a sweat, and you felt like you just ran the New York City Marathon. Super stamina. God fucking bless America.
“Hey,” he said, waving his hand in front of your face. “You good?”
“Sure,” you managed to answer. “Except now I don’t know how I’m gonna walk out of here, let alone get home later.”
“The ride up to the 99th is quicker. And if you need more convincing about Miami—“
You pursed your lips, considering the work you still had left to do before you could reasonably call it a night. But you were tired, and admittedly drunk, and Soldier Boy was already hard again. “I might.”
#soldier boy x reader#soldier boy the boys#the boys x reader#the boys#the boys amazon#the boys tv#the boys soldier boy#the boys imagine#soldier boy imagine#soldier boy smut#im a feminist i promise#but do you ever think about how that man could literally break you in half if he wanted to?
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Ryoko Kui Does Not Believe in Epiphanies (or: why Marcille and Mithrun's endings are great actually)
I have seen a couple of people who are upset about the way that Mithrun and Marcille's stories were resolved so I'm writing this to clear some things up. Ryoko Kui does not believe in epiphanies. An epiphany is a sudden and usually brief realization, an "aha" moment. Epiphanies are emotionally powerful moments. Both Marcille and Mithrun have powerful moments of realization, epiphanies.
Whether or not you like these resolutions, there's something you need to understand, Ryoko Kui does not put that much stock into these moments. Immediately after Marcille has her realization, Tansu responds like this:
While this is mostly his own opinion, what he is pointing out is that epiphanies are brief, they are singular moments that do not define a life. Life is long, and epiphanies do not sustain you. Marcille might feel like this now, but what about tomorrow? what about nex year? ten years, a hundred years, five hundred years from now? How often have you felt a sudden understanding? a burst of inspiration, or perhaps a realization that everything is pointless? It generally passes quickly, and you make dinner, and go to bed.
Think about the best meal you have ever had, it was probably a special occasion, maybe it felt like something magical, in the moment you might have felt like your life was changed. Then, in the morning you were hungry, so you ate breakfast. You cooked, you did the dishes, you went on with your life. What "meaning" did that meal have if you were hungry again the next day? Mithrun has to rebuild everything, every day he has to come up with new desires to do the very basics. None of it comes naturally, he has to find a reason to eat beyond being hungry, a reason to want to do anything when he doesn't want anything. Ryoko Kui tells us outright, that there is no magical solution:
The same thing applies to Ryoko Kui's representation of racism in dungeon meshi. Around when the orcs appeared in the anime I saw people gripeing about the way racism is treated. They seemed to think that Laios's party having dinner with the orcs was presented as them "solving" racism. Once again people misunderstand, they did not solve racism in a single moment. A few people, understood each other a little better, came to an arrangement and then parted. This was merely a moment in their lives. The characters continue to do micro-agressions, hold stereotypes, and have implicit biases. In dungeon meshi, characters don't suddenly stop being racist in the course of an evening. Life is a process, learning about others is a process, it's about the accumulation of experiences through the meat and potatoes of life, the daily activities that we actually fill our lives with, not the sudden realizations. Once you make learning about and living with other people into part of your routine, once it is embodied, then it is part of your life.
This is the real conclusion: life is not lived in a state of epiphany. Life is about chores, cooking, eating, shitting, working, and sleeping, it's everyday. Life is about doing simple things and doing them well. An epiphany is a useful tool for telling the reader that everything is going to be alright, we love to read epiphanies and be swept up in them. They can also be a breaking of a pattern, an escape from a spiral.
This is the other take away, it's about the people you do those things with, the way they rub off on you, the way they help you be human. For Mithrun and Marcille their paths would be impossible without other people pushing them back on the path as they stray. Mithrun literally would starve to death except for the thought that kabru and others don't want him to. Eating is a communal activity, so is living, you can have an epiphany on your own; you can't live on your own.
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miss louisiana i | c. leclerc, a. saint mleux | chase landry
poly! | fem! reader x obsessive! exes! charles leclerc, alexandra saint mleux (+chase landry and f1 grid)
synopsis. your obsessive exes refuse to accept your new relationship with a man completely different from them. maybe they should move to louisiana? jk!. . . unless?
note. ok so reader is from louisiana and has cajun roots for context. chase landry is from swamp people 😭✌️ I loved that show when I was younger & I rewatched some recently and it reignited my crush on him sorry
WARNING(s); obsessive/possessive behavior, toxic/creepy exes (I make is as fluffy as I can tho trust), ooc Alex and Charles being a rich and out of touch, a spec of classism, stalking oops, (everyone Loves you)
miss.y/n📍belle river, la
liked by charles_leclerc, alexandrasaintmleux, jacoblandry, carlossainz55, and 1,006,349 others
miss.y/n back where I belong ☀️🌷🐊🐝🐍🌿🐠
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mariene.y/l/n be safe in the water my baby 🤗
miss.y/n yes maman 🤞😊 you know I’m protected
user oop who’s protecting you miss ma’am
user omgggg how did Charles n Alex fumble so baddd 😩😩🙏 I’ve needed y/n’s cajun french baddie ass since DAY ONE 🗣️
charles_leclerc so beautiful mon ange 😍 but that water is dark and might be dangerous. ta maman a raison!
see translation | your mom is right
user stopp didn’t y/n break things off with them???
user2 currently losing it my fav throuple might be back 💪🗣️
carlossainz55 hope you’re doing well mi dulce ❤️
alexandrasaintmleux yeah no this isn’t happening
user carlos sweetie delete this comment while you still have hands <3
user SHE’S BACK IN LOUISIANA RAHH
user2 how did I not know she was from the middle of nowhere 😭 what is pierre part??
user3 how didn’t you know!!! her dad literally used to hunt alligator before he died and her mom remarried and moved back to France . Her dad was cajun
user this might be a reach but y’all think she knows anybody from swamp people? Love that show 🤣🤣
liked by miss.y/n
♤ ♤ ♤
♤ ♤ ♤
Alex’s leg bounced up and down nervously as her call went to voicemail for the 7th time in a row. She’d been calling your phone nonstop since hearing the news, anxious to know if it was true or not. It was always something that ate at her; her and Charles’ inability to relate to your childhood in Louisiana. They’d grown up among a higher class than you and in foreign countries. You would just giggle and wave off her concerns, insisting that even though they couldn’t understand your upbringing, that at least you could understand theirs.
“No answer.” She muttered, teeth gnawing at her bottom lip. It was a habit she’d had as a child, one that you disapproved of and had trained out of her before you left them.
“She left us for a swamp man.” Charles pathetically finished Alex’s thought as they sat in his car, waiting to meet some other drivers and wags at the high-end restaurant Carlos chose.
“Don’t say it like that!” Alexandra turned her body towards the passenger window, “She didn’t leave us— not in that way! I told you she was homesick!”
Your father was a Cajun man who definitely took his culture to heart, doing a lot of hunting and fishing before he passed away suddenly when you were 12. Your mother was from France originally, and she remarried a rich Frenchman who’d ended up funding your modeling career after your success in pageantry. You moved straight to France at age 14 and found yourself in a completely different culture from how you grew up. You’d visited France before during summers with your mother, but it wasn’t home to you like Louisiana. You’d met Alexandra when the two of you were 19, and instantly bonded. Despite only really meeting briefly, it was love at first sight on Alex’s part and she supported you all the way to when you won Miss Universe after starting out Miss Louisiana.
When Charles had come along and had the same feelings that she did for you, it felt perfect, like everything had finally come together.
“With us is her home.” Charles replied, sucking his teeth.
“I can’t even—” Alex didn’t have to finish, the two had the same thought. They can’t even fathom the idea that you were with someone else.
x
Daniel was practically cackling in joy while Carlos at least tried to hide his amusement by covering his face. It was no secret that most of the f1 grid was praying for you to leave Charles/Alex so they could get a chance— but this wasn’t what they were expecting.
Bickering around the table ensued, only a few seconds before Alex was rolling her eyes with a groan and putting her face in her hands, “He doesn’t have any recent social media so I can’t even stalk him.”
“So we will just go there!”
“And what? Become swamp people?” Daniel was laughing so hard he was tearing up.
“Cha, that’s so ridiculous.” Alex mumbled.
“It is—!” Kika agreed suspiciously fast, “I just mean the split was recent, so maybe me and Pierre should visit her before you guys?” It’d only been a few months, but that had been enough to drive Charles and Alex a bit off the rails.
They’d only ever been apart from you for just over two days in the last year, up until you ghosted them. Well— it wasn’t technically ghosting when you left a note; a very brief letter in your familiar handwriting that told them you needed some space. They didn’t take it as a break up, although they did panic. Their numbers weren’t blocked, so they naturally took that as a good sign. This was probably because you wanted their attention since all their calls and messages were going through. The finality of it didn’t hit until it reached two weeks of no-contact from you and their photos were removed from your Instagram. The public noticed and so did the rest of the grid despite Alex and Charles’ now 3-month-long denial stage.
“le lieu s'appelle Pierre Part, yeah?” Pierre grinned and Charles sneered at him. (the place is called pierre part)
“They might have a point,” Daniel winced with a wide grin, “I think you’ll just look crazy if you show up. At least, one of us would just look like a friend who misses her, ya know?”
“None of you are visiting our girlfriend!” Alex frowned.
“Ex,” Carlos gently corrected into his fist with a cough before straightening up, “She jus’ is homesick maybe so give her some space and she will come back in no time.”
“I knew this would happen.” Alex slumped with her chin in her hand, “cet endroit est sa maison.” (that place is her home)
“You’ve never heard ‘if you love something, let it go’? If it’s meant to be, she’ll come back.” Daniel tried to reassure, but his face was almost a wince.
“We just wanted her close to us is all! We travel so much, we didn’t mean to take her away from her home—”
But Daniel gave them a look, knowing about their behavior with you. As in love with you as they are, Alex and Charles are intense about it. Endearing on one hand for awhile, but then the jealousy got worse and they were pretty delusional about their tendencies. He could understand it honestly— you were lovely. He imagined he’d be in the same state as Alex and Charles if you were his and you left him. Which is why he cut them so much slack, the rest of the table too.
“I don’t understand why she ran away like that!” Charles finished with a huff, running his fingers through his hair. He was starting to sweat. This felt like a cruel joke on your part— a mean way to get their attention.
“His ears are a little big.” Alex whispered, staring into her phone with a pout.
“et cela! regarde nos oreilles!” (and that! look at our ears!)
Pierre lost it at that; Charles pulling at his ears to make a point, “Maybe he’s just a nice guy, man!”
“We are nice!”
“Let me see.” Carlos walked around the table to see Alex’s phone.
She’d googled the name of your alleged new boyfriend— Chase Landry. He had starred on some Southern US reality show ‘Swamp People’; it mainly surrounded cajun alligator hunters in Louisiana. They had known you liked the show, but had never seen it themselves.
“Eh,” Carlos shrugged, “his ears aren’t that big. He is a little old for her though, no? 34?”
“Exactly! He is a pervert! I’m calling her again, actually.”
♤ ♤ ♤
♤ ♤ ♤
miss.y/n 📍pierre part, la
liked by jacoblandry, carlossainz55, francisca.cgomes, danielricciardo, and 1,014,108 others
miss.y/n me and my dirty swamp man foreva 🤞💛🌷🦆
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user STOPPP SHE SAID THAT’S MY MAN N IMMA STICK BY HIMMMM
user2 stfu 😭✋ the fact that this man most likely has no idea that this is going on
user3 his brother liking her posts and filling him in
miss.y/n jokes on y’all Jacob doesn’t know what’s going on either
bellahadid beautiful lily faery and her dirty swamp bf <3
miss.y/n <3 literally
user BELLA⁉️
arthur_leclerc beautiful view of the water, ma sœur!
see translation | my sister
user THEY SENT Y/NS FAVORITE LECLERC BROTHER IN TO PLAY DAMAGE CONTROL
user2 not “my sister” 😭😭😭 leclercs let her go challenge
user y/n’s harem coming to her defense like the mighty morphin power rangers 😭😂🤣
x
this is part 1 of perhaps 3. I plan on making part 2 much longer and more writing than social media like this one, just for some balanceee
taglist; @alliwantisadonut @splaterparty0-0 @charizznorizz
Ren
#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#dark! f1#f1 grid x reader#obsessive f1#charles leclerc x reader#poly f1#f1 oc#obsessive charles leclerc#ex! charles leclerc#Charles leclerc fic#carlos sainz x reader#alex saint mleux x reader#alexandra saint mleux#f1 reverse harem#swamp people x reader#chase landry x reader
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yandere genshin men trying to make things right between you
angst, mildly dark themes ayato, neuvillette, pantalone, capitano, dottore, alhaitham
note: trying a new genre.
Neuvillette
Yandere Neuvillette kept forcing you into marriage after your relationship just got established. You asked him to give you some time to think over such radical and responsible change in life, but he was adamant to your pleads. He wanted everything here and now proven officially on the papers. You spent some nights crying because to think that such gentleman-like and solitary person like Neuvillette would force you into marital relationship was eerie. The desire to possess you officially seemed to blind him completely and he went from a loving gentleman to an almost insanely addicted man who did not accept a refusal.
It was your break-time at work when Neuvillette suddenly came up to you. It was odd at first - the judge putting away his duties to meet you seemed almost unbelievable, but remembering how assertive he was in the relationship with you it might have been close to the reality.
“Can I have a moment of your time, love?” He asked you, his hand not reaching to touch you but his gaze was heavy on your face.
“Of course.”
Not longer after the two of you were sitting in the cafeteria - a curious choice for a private conversation. Although you did not deny you seemed much more comfortable in a public place rather than face-to-face with him.
“About our marriage…” Neuvillette started, his fingers grazing over his glass of water.
“You already know my opinion”, you answered with no emotion. The time to play nice unfortunately came to an end.
But the next response from Neuvillette kind of gave you goosebumps:
“If I was too harsh on you, I beg of you to forgive me. I have a habit of grasping something dear to me too tightly, and I’m afraid that I hurt you more than I could possibly imagine”, he took a pause for a breath and gulped a sip of his crystal clear water. “I genuinely need to know whether or not you still harbour any pleasant feeling towards me?”
“What are you saying? Of course I do, Neuvillette—I admit you were unacceptably rough on me the past few weeks, but it would make me a poor lover if it were to stop me from harbouring affection to you.”
The judge sighed in relief, and then his expression became serious again.
“I would love nothing more than for us to marry, but I realise the circumstances of pushing you too much. Tell me, dear, if you no longer want to proceed in intimate acquiantance with me.”
You shook your head - seems like he was not hearing you. You then took his hand in yours and spelled it again, frankly:
“No, I want to be with you, wholeheartedly. And the marriage proposal, I shall accept it too.”
Pantalone
When Pantalone kidnapped you for no specific reason, days turned to weeks. You almost forgot about the existence of sunlight as he kept you there like a pretty little porcelain doll for his own amusement—or whatever his nasty reasons might have been.
The last time you tried to escape his gloomy, mysterious castle-like home, you were severely punished for your “bad behaviour”. Blood dripped down from your chin as you were sitting on the floor of a dark hollow room, chained and bruised by his henchmen. Perhaps he considered it too tacky to touch you with his own hands.
And then he entered. You didn't even want to look at his unapproachable, icy-cold eyes, and simply turned away, your eyes shut and hidden from him.
“How rough you look”, he said with his usual tone which was cold, but at the same time smooth like butter.
You were dehydrated and hungry, that’s for sure. You wanted nothing more than a warm fuzzy blanket and sweet tea, and forget this nightmare forever.
“When was the last time you had a proper meal?” He asked. He knew you never ate his food because you’d consider yourself indebted to him. And you did not want to take anything from this man.
Your face went deadly pale and bewildered when Pantalone dropped on his knees before you and started freeing you from your shackles. His hands were shaking wildly, you could witness how poorly he mastered the lockers due to his stress.
Yet without a single doubt, with no longer time to lose he wrapped his arms around your waist to carry you. His clothes were a little stained with the snow, and a bit of freezing touch made you shiver.
“I will never do this to you anymore. Forgive me. Please, forgive me.” His words that used to be spoken as an order now were slipped from his lips as a request.
You were laid in the warmth of the sheets of your own home. The familiar surroundings brought you joy and comfort you never knew you’d forgotten so easily.
“My butler is cooking a dinner for you in your kitchen.”
He watched the whole time you were eating, guarding you and seeing how desperately you were filling your stomach up. When you finished eating, there was one loud slap—against Pantalone’s face, by your hand. In a normal situation, he would be so angry and furious that the earth would shake of his abhor. But now he was simply taking it.
"I know. I should never have treated you like this. I ignored your wishes and violated your privacy. I’ve done the worst crime to you—I took your freedom”, he touched the red mark blooming on his cheek from your unexpected punishment. “I wanted to obtain you so much that I ended up hurting you instead.”
Ayato
He was rich to his fingertips. In his world, the only thing he could not have, but wanted to, was you. You found yourself working as his secretary, aesthetically pleasing and always efficient. But Ayato was ruthless; he could never be satisfied, he was always unhappy. The requirements to you were growing day by day, and keeping up the standards seemed an impossible task. His moods were changing like a thunderstorm.
It was a regular day when you were performing your duties that you felt someone’s presence behind your back. Ayato was not exactly above lurking so he made his presence known after you turned to face him. He did not expect you to turn so rapidly and ended up with his breath tickling against your face.
“Y/N, I’m sorry. I have been too demanding and controlling. My actions driven by raw possessiveness inflicted undesirable effect upon you”, Ayato’s words died away, though the expression on his face became even more grim and grave. “You do not deserve such treatment, any of it.”
You nearly dropped your working papers as you stared at him. Was this man really sincere? How long has he been overthinking about your relationship? It took you just a few seconds to gather your composure and strike him with an indifferent glare.
“It’s always so easy and costs no trouble for you, rich people. You just take what you want without considering either the outcome or other people’s feelings. You see people as things, belongings in your possession, and you never have enough.”
At that, Ayato became even more tense, his expression that was mainly seen by the most of people as sweet and gentle, now was an embodiment of darkness. Nevertheless he nodded to you.
“What should I do for you to forgive me? I’m not going to lie and say that I did not think about how harmful my attitude might have been to you for the past month. What think you? Do I even stand a chance?”
“Fat chance”, you chuckled under your breath. The laugh was almost too bitter rather than sarcastic.
Ayato took your hands in his, his black gloved thumbs rubbing against your skin slightly.
“You’re like a poison to me. A very addicting one. And the more I see you work for me, the more I want to have you by my side. Not just at a formal event…” he bit his pale pink lip for a moment. “I’m starting to feel as if I’d like to see you out of work circumstance, and the thoughts of such impropriety are enough to drive me utterly insane.”
You reciprocated the light squeeze that came from his hands, however yours was less obsessive and more gentle.
“It is a very dangerous thought, Ayato.”
“Oh, I can be a very dangerous man. For you, that is.”
Capitano
You were walking in Capitano’s garden, feeling yourself like a beautiful bird in a golden cage, but in fact you were a princess in a beast’s castle. Once you saw his real face, you kept having nightmares about his skin rotting appearance. This man was scaring you to the bone, and every time you met him, although not very often, you felt how demanding and heavy the gaze of his icy blue eyes was.
You did not see him often, but once a while Capitano requested (no, ordered!) a private dinner with you. The rooms were dimly lit, his loyal butler making preparations to the highest standards as usual, and you - wearing the most luxurious of dresses you’d only be able to peek at in the past. But your face was the odd one as it beared no smile on it. You were gravely terrified by this man who had claimed you as his. And even though you slept in separate rooms, you could not brush the feeling as if he owned you; well, he kind of did, since you dwelt in his mansion.
Per usual, you were having a dinner with him at about eight in the evening when Capitano finally spoke. His tone was filled with assertiveness and power, yet the way he was eating, the movements of his hands were elegant enough to remind you of an excellently-educated prince.
“Y/N, I need to speak to you.”
You shivered when you heard him, and you let go of the fork. The jingling sound spread across the room which put you even in an unnecessarily bigger predicament.
“Yes, sir?”
Capitano hummed - he put his utensils away and looked as if he was carefully choosing his words which was not a habit of his. This Harbinger often talked exactly what he thought and was known for his bluntness. Capitano never beat around the bush and was always straight to the point, and this was one of the personality traits of his that made you feel conflicted. It was both terrifying and worth of respect.
“I want you to stop being scared of me. I want you to see that there is more of me than a horriffic, ugly old beast.”
You gasped: did he just used those unflattering words to himself? It felt so odd and so frustrating.
“What feelings do you want me to harbour for you, given our unusual circumstances?”
There was a long pause before Capitano made a sip of his red wine and suggested the following:
“Affection is too much, but could you at least try to be friendly with me? Don’t you see—can’t you see how hard I’m trying to make your life with me less unbearable?”
Affection… friendliness… is that what he really needs from you?—you think.
“I’m a prisoner here, I cannot imagine how I am supposed to show any warm feelings towards you. It would be fake and stupid.”
“Then make them not fake and stupid.” Capitano raised from the table and stormed out of the dining room, leaving you alone in the dim light of candles.
Dottore
You woke up on the plain lab bed, still restrained but this time your pain was drastically diminished. When you opened your eyes the lights did not cut your sight right away and you realised that the room was only dimly lit. You sighed in relief - perhaps he went on a break and you had a few moments of rest from his constant analysis and experiments upon your body.
There were a few tattoos on your hands but too small to even understand their meanings. Perhaps it was something from Zandik’s past that he decided to ruthlessly carve on you.
Your happiness and sense of relief did not last long though, as the man who called himself Doctor entered the room not exactly quietly.
“Look who’s alive. I’m glad”, he wrote something on his notes, “very glad, even.”
“What are you going to do to me next? Turn me into… abomination?” You attempted to sound sarcastic even though all your being was screaming inside. “I’m pretty sure you have not gotten your fill yet out of me.”
Dottore abruptly stopped writing and dropped his journal on the lab desk next to you.
“I think we’re finished here.”
“What?”
“I said you’re free to go”, he cut your leather restraints with one rough motion that had a vibe of uncertainty of the soul.
You looked at your hands, your body cheered welcoming freedom, but at the bottom of your heart you were perplexed.
“But why?”
Dottore did not utter a single word more, with his face buried into his other records, he turned away from you completely ignoring your presence.
You found your clothes tidy and repaired on the chair, and put them on quickly. Upon escaping the place you saw that not a single Fatui agent was preventing you from leaving. You looked at the lab once more and a pang of strange kind of sorrow appeared in your heart. Perhaps, you should pay him a visit once you’re recovered? Or was it a bad idea?..
Alhaitham
The nerdy scholar was quite possessive and jealous. He had a very curious but rather depressive personality. You thought him a quiet man until one extraordinary and terrific experience.
Alhaitham locked a man in the library for the whole night after he saw him giving you too much attention and you happily reciprocating him. An innocent friendly conversation seemed a blunt flirt to him. He could not bear the thought you having affection to someone else who was not him. When he saw you first he realised that he wanted you to see only him, and give all your attention to him. He craved to see you wanting his company, clinging to him or even agreeing to date him. But since his personality was too aloof and he never ever attempted to simply ask you out, but kept staring at you from the side, stalking unnoticeably and gather all information about you, you never had a chance to learn of his true feelings. Behind his obsession there had to be something, as such strong feelings never came out of nowhere.
Upon seeing you chat with that guy Alhaitham grew so furious that he almost not giving it a thought just slammed the door with the poor guy in the library and left him there for the whole damn night. Blinded by his jealousy, he did not even consider how you’d feel about that. The next morning you were perplexed by the sudden disappearance of your classmate, and once the library opening time came, the student was finally released.
“How could you do this to him? To anyone?” You asked Alhaitham; it did not take much time to learn whose fault was that.
“How could I?” He asked you back, his expression grave and unmoveable as if he were not interested in a single thing in the world. “How could you spend so much time with him? He’s a total jerk.”
“Judging by what you did the total jerk is you! How could you simply lock the person up? Are you insane?”
Alhaitham’s patience started to grow thinner. He squeezed his hands into the fists so hard that his knuckled turned snow-white.
“Are you stupid? You really don’t see how I feel about you? And you keep being so nice to everyone but me. You’re obviously ignoring me.”
Bewildered, yet you finally understood the root of the case. You stared at him for a few seconds before checking if anyone was near to eavesdrop. Luckily, there was not a soul around so you spoke honestly:
“If you wanted to woo me, endangering someone was not a good idea. You did something I deem unacceptable. And such unacceptable actions will only make me like you less, Alhaitham.”
Alhaitham leaned closer, his voice was a gentle whisper.
“Right? Then teach me to woo you properly. I’ll do thousands of attempts to win you over, no matter the cost.” You pressed your hands against his shoulders to prevent him from getting into closer proximity with you, and Alhaitham, although not completely willingly, but still backed off.
#genshin impact x reader#genshin yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere x darling#yandere x y/n#yandere neuvillette#yandere ayato#yandere pantalone#yandere capitano x reader#yandere dottore#yandere alhaitham#ayato x y/n#ayato x you#ayato x reader#neuvillette x y/n#neuvillette x you#pantalone x female reader#pantalone x you#pantalone x reader#pantalone x y/n#capitano x reader#capitano x y/n#capitano x you#dottore x you#alhaitham x y/n#neuvillette x female reader#neuvillette x reader#genshin x reader#anime x reader
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S1 E24 —☆ HAUNTING TOUCH
pairing ( 𝗚𝗢𝗝𝗢 𝗦. 𝗫 𝗙𝗘𝗠 ! 𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥 )
Looks like you’ve accidentally moved into a haunted apartment, and there’s no escape now! You’ll have to deal with Gojo Satoru—your pervy, invisible roommate who can’t stop teasing you in all the wrong ways.
c.w. Ghost ! Gojo satoru x female reader, oral ( f. receiving), satoru is a perverrtttttt, pantie sniffing and stealing?? Idk, nsfw, mdni, stalking, somnophilia, lovesick gojo kinda, reader is a bit stupid, Spectrophilia
word count. 5.6k
a.n/ TODAY IS MY BIRTHDAY!!
Moving into your new apartment was supposed to be a fresh start, the beginning of something exciting and different. After months of searching for a place that didn’t break the bank and didn’t feel like a closet, you stumbled across this one: a charming, slightly old-fashioned apartment nestled in a quiet neighborhood. The rent was suspiciously cheap, but everything looked good on paper.
The landlord, a friendly but quiet older man, had seemed eager to get someone in the apartment, and after a quick tour, you were sold.
The building was old, with high ceilings and tall windows that let in just enough sunlight to make the place feel cozy during the day. The floors creaked slightly beneath your feet, and the walls had a few nicks and scratches that gave the place character. It felt like it had a story, something comforting in its age, a contrast to the sleek, sterile apartments you'd seen before. You loved it from the moment you set foot inside.
Moving day came faster than you expected, and after a long, exhausting day of unpacking, you were ready to collapse. You spent hours dragging boxes up the narrow stairs, arranging and rearranging furniture, and trying to make the space feel like yours. By the time the sun set, casting long shadows across the floor, you were too tired to cook, so you settled for ordering takeout. Sitting on the floor, surrounded by half-unpacked boxes, you ate your dinner while scrolling through your phone, enjoying the silence of your new home.
The first few days went by uneventfully, though you couldn’t help but notice how quiet the building was. There were no sounds of neighbors, no creaking floors from above, no distant hum of conversation through the walls. It was peaceful, almost unnervingly so. You told yourself it was just because the apartment was well-insulated. Besides, the quiet was what you’d been craving after living in a noisy, cramped city for so long.
But little things started happening that made you pause. At first, it was just the lights. They would flicker every now and then—nothing too out of the ordinary for an old building, you figured. The kitchen light buzzed occasionally, casting a faint, uneven glow that was easy to brush off. You’d call maintenance about it when you had time.
Then, you started noticing objects in slightly different places than where you’d left them. You’d place your keys on the kitchen counter, only to find them on the coffee table later. Or you’d set your phone down, and when you came back, it would be a few inches to the side. Small things—things that could easily be explained away by the chaos of moving, you told yourself. Maybe you were just more scattered than usual, with all the boxes and stress.
But the more it happened, the harder it was to ignore.
One evening, you were washing dishes when the lights in the kitchen flickered again. You paused, hands in the soapy water, watching as the overhead light buzzed and dimmed, casting long shadows across the counters. You sighed, making a mental note to call the landlord in the morning. But just as you turned back to the sink, the faucet next to you sputtered and came on by itself.
You froze, watching the water gush from the tap, your heart pounding in your chest. Slowly, you reached out and turned the handle, stopping the flow. You stared at the sink for a moment, your mind racing to come up with an explanation. Maybe the pipes were just old. Maybe there was a pressure issue. You shook your head, trying to brush it off.
That night, as you lay in bed, the unease crept back in. The apartment was too quiet. The kind of quiet that made every little sound feel amplified. You could hear the floor creak occasionally, and once, you thought you heard a soft, distant sound—like someone sighing. You sat up, listening, your breath catching in your throat. But there was nothing. Just the quiet hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen.
You told yourself you were imagining things. Moving was stressful, and new places always felt a little strange at first. But deep down, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was… off.
The next morning, the lights flickered again as you made coffee. The buzzing sound filled the room, and for a split second, you thought you heard something else—a soft laugh, almost playful, like someone watching from a distance. You stood still, the hairs on the back of your neck rising as the sound faded.
You spent the rest of the day trying to ignore it, trying to convince yourself that it was just the apartment’s age showing. But that night, as you were brushing your teeth, the bathroom light flickered twice, then stayed off for a few seconds before coming back on. Your pulse quickened, but you finished brushing, telling yourself it was nothing.
Then, the faucet turned on by itself.
You jumped, staring at the stream of water gushing from the tap. This time, it wasn’t just a drip or a sputter—it was as if someone had deliberately turned it on. Your hand shook as you reached out to shut it off, the silence that followed feeling almost deafening. You glanced around the bathroom, suddenly aware of how alone you felt in the apartment. The air felt heavy, like you weren’t quite alone after all.
The lights flickered again, and this time, there was no mistaking the sound. Soft, barely audible, but definitely there—a laugh, low and teasing, as if someone was standing just behind you. You whipped around, your heart pounding in your chest, but the bathroom was empty.
You told yourself it had to be your mind playing tricks on you, but as the days went by, the odd occurrences became more frequent. Objects moved on their own, the lights flickered at the strangest times, and the laughter—always faint, always distant—began to follow you from room to room.
You tried to ignore it, tried to rationalize it, but the feeling of being watched never left you. Something—or someone—was in the apartment with you. And it wasn’t going away.
As the days passed, the strange occurrences in your apartment didn’t stop—they only grew more unsettling. Flickering lights became a nightly routine, always at the most inconvenient times. The soft, teasing laughter followed you from room to room, making your skin prickle. It wasn’t just random noises anymore. It felt targeted, like something was watching you, waiting for the perfect moment to make its presence known.
It started small. Your laundry, for example—folded and left in a neat pile on your bed. At first, you thought maybe you’d done it in a tired haze, but then your underwear, particularly your panties, would be laid out, almost displayed, as if someone had gone through them. Each time you found them, your cheeks would burn with embarrassment, but you forced yourself to dismiss it. Maybe you were just being paranoid.
But it didn’t stop there.
One night, after a long day, you stepped into the shower, eager to wash away the stress. The hot water felt amazing as it poured over your skin, steam rising and fogging the bathroom mirror. You closed your eyes, letting yourself relax for the first time all day. The warmth was soothing, but just as you started to unwind, you felt something strange. It wasn’t a sound this time, but a shift in the air, like someone was there with you.
You opened your eyes, glancing around the bathroom nervously. The shower curtain rustled slightly, but there was no one else in the room. You shook your head, trying to shake off the creeping anxiety.
But then the lights flickered.
You froze, soap slipping from your hands as the overhead light buzzed and dimmed. The room felt colder, the warmth of the shower suddenly less comforting. You wrapped your arms around yourself, feeling exposed even though you were alone. That’s when you heard it—his voice, low and teasing, as if he was standing right behind you.
“Nice view.”
Your breath hitched, and you spun around, water splashing against the tiles. But the bathroom was empty, save for the lingering steam swirling around you. Heart racing, you reached for the towel, wrapping it around your body as tightly as you could. The voice—it was clear as day, but there was no one there.
You stepped out of the shower, still dripping wet, your mind racing. Maybe it was just your imagination. Maybe the stress of the move was finally getting to you. But as you walked toward the fogged-up mirror, you froze. There, in the condensation, a message was slowly appearing, as if written by an invisible hand:
“Nice ass:)”
You gasped, backing away from the mirror, clutching the towel to your chest. The message blurred as the steam started to dissipate, but the message was clear. Someone—something—was here. And it wasn’t just watching.
It was playing with you.
Over the next few days, the incidents escalated. You’d come home to find your dresser drawers open, your panties scattered across the floor like someone had gone through them. The first time, you thought you’d left them out yourself, but the way they were laid out—so deliberate—made your stomach turn. Then there were the bathroom moments—whenever you showered, you’d feel that same eerie presence, like eyes lingering on your body, watching, waiting.
The laughter grew louder, more distinct, as if whoever—or whatever—it was, was enjoying your discomfort. At night, you’d feel your sheets shifting slightly, like someone was tugging at them from the foot of the bed. You’d sit up, heart pounding, only to find nothing but empty air. But the sensation—the feeling of being watched, of being toyed with—never left you.
Then, one particularly quiet evening, you were changing out of your work clothes— when you felt it again—the shift in the air, the invisible presence that seemed to hover just over your shoulder. You were halfway through pulling on your pajamas when the lights flickered, and a low, familiar voice whispered into your ear:
“Why don’t you leave the pajamas off this time?”
You gasped, pulling your shirt over your head in a rush, your face flushing hot with a mixture of shock and humiliation. But that teasing laughter filled the room again, like whoever was haunting you was enjoying every second of your reaction.
The worst part? A small, nagging part of you was starting to wonder—what if this wasn’t a dream? What if you really weren’t alone in this apartment? And worse, what if he wasn’t planning on leaving anytime soon?
The next morning, you woke up with a pounding heart, the events of the previous night replaying in your mind. Had it all really happened? The flickering lights, the teasing whispers—it felt too surreal to fully grasp. You rubbed your eyes, trying to shake off the remnants of a restless night. After a quick breakfast, you left for work, determined to brush it all aside.
But as you stepped into the bustling city, the lingering feeling of unease trailed behind you like a shadow. You couldn’t shake the thought that something—or someone—was watching you. Each time you caught a glimpse of a stranger on the street, your heart would race, but you’d quickly remind yourself that it was just your imagination. There were no ghosts lurking in the corners of your life; this was just an old building with some quirks.
Yet, as the day went on, your thoughts kept drifting back to the apartment. You couldn’t concentrate on your work, your mind wandering to the strange occurrences. Maybe you should call the landlord about the lights, or even consider looking for a new place. But the thought of starting over again, packing up all your things for the second time in a few weeks, felt daunting. You sighed, trying to focus on the tasks at hand, but it was no use.
When you finally returned home, the apartment felt eerily quiet, as it had for the past week. The sunlight was fading, casting long shadows across the hardwood floor. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for whatever awaited you in the shadows.
As you moved through the rooms, you noticed your laundry basket had been knocked over, clothes scattered across the floor. Your heart sank. Had you left it like that? Or had someone—or something—done it for you? You knelt to pick up your clothes, feeling a chill race down your spine as you gathered your things.
“Okay, this is ridiculous,” you muttered to yourself. “It’s just an old building. There’s nothing to be scared of.”
But as you stood up, a flicker of movement caught your eye. You turned sharply, only to find the bathroom light flickering ominously. Your pulse quickened, and a wave of anxiety washed over you. You took a cautious step toward the bathroom, but before you could reach for the doorknob, the light stopped flickering, plunging the room into darkness.
“Really?” you said, forcing a laugh, trying to convince yourself that this was all just a trick of the mind. You opened the door, peering inside, and noticed the steam lingering in the air, as if someone had just taken a shower.
“Great, now I’m imagining things,” you muttered, shaking your head as you flicked the switch, and the light flickered back on, illuminating the room. You moved to the sink, splashing some water on your face, trying to ground yourself in reality.
Suddenly, a cold breeze brushed against your neck, sending a shiver through you. You spun around, heart racing, but there was no one there. You rolled your eyes, scolding yourself for being jumpy.
“Get a grip,” you whispered, taking a deep breath. You closed your eyes for a moment, leaning against the cool sink, letting the water run. The sound of the water was soothing, but just as you started to relax, you heard it again—the low, teasing laugh echoing off the tiles.
“Why do you keep pretending you’re alone?” the voice came, a soft whisper that sent chills down your spine. It was unmistakably playful, dripping with a teasing quality that made your skin prickle.
You froze, eyes wide as you scanned the room for the source of the voice. “Who’s there?” you asked, but the only response was the echo of your voice bouncing off the bathroom walls.
The air grew thick with tension, and you stepped back, your pulse pounding in your ears. “This isn’t funny!” you shouted, though the sound felt hollow, almost weak in the empty space.
“Not funny? I think it’s hilarious,” the voice replied, the amusement clear in its tone. “I love watching you squirm.”
Your breath hitched as a wave of heat rushed to your cheeks. Was someone—something—really watching you? The realization sent a shiver down your spine, and you stepped out of the bathroom, retreating into the safety of your living room.
But as you turned to leave, you caught a glimpse of movement in your peripheral vision. You whipped around just in time to see a flicker of white—was that a figure?—before it disappeared. Your heart raced, and you fought the urge to scream. You were alone, yet you couldn’t shake the feeling that you weren’t.
“I know you’re there!” you called out, trying to sound brave, though your voice wavered slightly. “Show yourself!”
In response, the only sound that met your challenge was a soft, breathy laughter that echoed through the apartment, taunting you from the shadows. You took a shaky step back, your heart racing as you glanced around, the flickering lights dimming again and casting eerie shapes that danced along the walls.
The silence that followed felt heavy, almost oppressive, and you could sense the presence lingering just out of sight. A chill raced down your spine, and you couldn’t help but feel that he was watching you, delighting in your unease. The knowledge that you weren’t alone gnawed at the edges of your mind, both thrilling and terrifying.
Eventually, you managed to muster the courage to retreat to your bedroom. You turned off the light, hoping to banish the creeping dread that had settled in your chest. As you slipped into your pajamas, you tried to convince yourself that this was all just a figment of your imagination—a bad dream that would dissipate with the morning light.
But as you jumped under the covers, cocooning yourself in the warm fabric, the shadows seemed to close in around you. You closed your eyes tightly, willing yourself to fall asleep and hoping that when you woke, everything would be back to normal.
As you lay in bed, the tension of the evening began to fade, your eyelids growing heavy. The soft rhythm of your breathing filled the silence of the room, and you felt yourself slipping into a dreamless sleep, the haunting presence momentarily forgotten.
But as the night deepened, a cool draft swept through the room, carrying with it an almost palpable energy. The covers at your feet began to stir, slowly pushed aside by an unseen force. You stirred slightly, a soft sigh escaping your lips, but you didn’t wake.
Gojo, unseen but very much present, hovered just above your bed, his gaze fixed on your peaceful form. The way the soft glow of the moonlight illuminated your features made his heart race with an intensity he hadn’t expected. He watched, entranced, as you slept, your chest rising and falling rhythmically, your hair spilling over the pillow like a dark waterfall.
Unable to resist, he reached out, his hand brushing lightly against your cheek. The warmth of your skin sent a thrill through him, and he admired how serene you looked, completely unaware of his presence. He traced a finger along your jawline, careful not to disturb you, savoring the softness beneath his touch.
His fingers then moved down, grazing over your stomach, feeling the gentle rise and fall as you breathed. He marveled at the way your body seemed to relax into the sheets, completely trusting and vulnerable. With each touch, he felt an intoxicating mix of desire and reverence, appreciating the intimate moment without wanting to push too far.
He continued to explore, his fingers trailing to your waist, brushing against the fabric of your pajamas. The urge to pull you closer—to bridge the gap between the living and the dead—was overwhelming, but he held himself back, content to admire from a distance. The thrill of his touch, though fleeting, made his heart race, and he found himself captivated by the way you responded to his gentle caresses, even in your sleep.
Gojo continued to trace the delicate curves of your body, he felt an overwhelming surge of desire wash over him. The way you lay there, so innocent and unguarded, ignited something deep within him—an intense craving that surged like a tide. His heart raced as he let his fingers linger on your waist, the warmth of your skin contrasting sharply with his cold touch.
He bit his lip, trying to suppress the instinctual urge to claim you. But the sight of you sprawled across the sheets, completely unaware of his presence, stirred something primal within him. It was maddening; every time he looked at you, a rush of lust clouded his thoughts. He shifted slightly, feeling his body react involuntarily to the intoxicating combination of desire and admiration.
Gojo’s breath hitched as he fought to maintain control, his gaze tracing over your form, lingering on the way your body rose and fell with each breath. The fabric of your pajamas hugged you in all the right places, teasing him with the promise of what lay beneath. The mere thought of how easily he could pull those soft fabrics away made his pulse quicken, and he felt himself hardening at the thought.
“God, you’re beautiful,” he murmured to himself, a hint of desperation lacing his tone. The tension in the air felt electric, charged with unspoken possibilities. His hand drifted lower, fingertips brushing along the soft material of your pajama top, teasing the edge of the hem as if tempted to explore further.
Every part of him wanted to surrender to the desire that throbbed in his chest, to take you right then and there. But he held back, reveling in the sheer thrill of the moment. Watching you, the way you sighed softly in your sleep, sent shivers through him, both thrilling and torturous. He knew he should stop, but the more he watched, the more he felt himself losing control.
His hand ventured lower, brushing the edge of your pajama pants, the fabric soft beneath his fingertips. The contact sent a rush of warmth through him, and he couldn't help but marvel at how delicate you seemed, wrapped up in the cocoon of your blankets. His fingers lingered just above the waistband, hesitant yet curious, feeling the gentle curve of your hips.
With each slow movement, he could feel the heat radiating from your skin, intoxicating him further. He traced the outline of your body, the subtle dips and rises that made you uniquely you, savoring the sensation of your warmth beneath his touch. You shifted slightly in your sleep, a soft sigh escaping your lips as if responding to his caress, igniting a thrill deep within him.
He hesitated for a moment, the line between admiration and temptation blurring in the shadows of the room. As his fingers inched closer to your skin, he felt a mix of excitement and restraint. He wanted to touch you, to explore the contours of your body fully, yet there was a profound respect for your innocence, a desire to revel in the moment without overstepping boundaries.
The fabric of your pajama pants was thin, and he could almost feel the warmth of your skin just beneath it. He let his fingers trail along the edge, teasingly close to crossing that invisible line. The sensation of his touch made the air thick with tension, electric and charged, as if the very atmosphere around you was aware of the forbidden intimacy unfolding in the dark. He slowly pushed your pants down—carefully to not wake you up
As your pants slipped down to your ankles and fell to the floor, the cool air kissed your skin, stirring you from the depths of your dreams. In your slumber, you remained blissfully unaware, lost in a world where nothing could touch you.
Gojo’s hand moved with practiced ease, slipping around your thighs and gently coaxing them apart. The sensation was electric, even in your sleep, as if some part of you sensed the shift in the atmosphere. His touch was teasing, almost reverent, as he revealed the delicate blue panties you wore, adorned with a tiny bow at the front.
The fabric clung to your folds, accentuating the softness of your skin. A subtle dampness had formed between your folds, making the material slightly sheer, hinting at your body's response to his presence. It was a testament to the tension that crackled in the air, as he admired the way the panties hugged you perfectly, creating a contrast that was both innocent and alluring.
Gojo's gaze was fixed on you, his expression a mixture of desire and fascination. He reveled in the sight of you, so trusting and vulnerable in your sleep, completely unaware of his hungry admiration.
Gojo breathed out heavily, a small smirk forming at his lips as he grinned. “Someone must be having a great dream,” he thought to himself, his amusement mixing with a thrill of desire. Slowly, he let his fingertip glide over the wet spot, the material yielding slightly under his touch, sending a jolt of excitement through him.
You stirred slightly, a soft sigh escaping your lips as you instinctively shifted deeper into the warmth of your blankets. In that moment, Gojo took the opportunity to slip your panties to the side, his breath catching as your skin was revealed to him. The sight was intoxicating, and he couldn’t help but admire how beautiful you looked, even in your slumber.
Leaning in closer, he lowered himself onto his elbows, his nose brushing against the soft skin of your inner thigh. He inhaled deeply, drawn in by your sweet, intoxicating scent that enveloped him like a warm embrace. It was fresh and alluring, igniting a primal urge within him that he struggled to contain.
The temptation became too much to bear; he felt himself losing control. His tongue flicked out, brushing against your warm skin, and you instinctively arched into him, a soft whimper escaping your mouth as your subconscious recognized the sensation. The initial touch of his wet tongue against you sent shockwaves of heat spiraling through your body, stirring you from your dreams.
As you began to wake, you felt a warm rush in your lower stomach, a heat building that made you blush even more. Your eyes fluttered open, confusion mingling with a strange sense of desire. The realization of what was happening hit you like a bolt of lightning, and you shot upright, your hand instinctively tangling in Gojo’s hair as your body reacted to the sensations he was creating.
You gasped, your breath hitching in your throat as his tongue expertly flicked against your sensitive skin, sending a jolt of pleasure coursing through you. It was a mix of surprise and undeniable pleasure, and you couldn’t help but moan softly, the sound escaping before you could stop it.
Gojo’s heart raced at the sound, his instincts driving him further into the moment as he continued to explore, tasting you with a fervor that only intensified your reaction.
Your heart raced as you tugged on his hair, a mix of confusion and overwhelming desire coursing through you. Gojo responded to your pull, the sensation igniting a fire in him as he continued his ministrations, licking and teasing with an expert touch. You gasped, the sound echoing softly in the dim light of the room, a testament to the intensity of your awakening.
You were torn between pleasure and confusion, your mind racing to comprehend the whirlwind of sensations and the reality of the situation. Who was this man? How did he get into your apartment? You had convinced yourself that the flickering lights and eerie shadows were mere figments of your imagination, a result of moving into a new place. Yet, here he was—intimate and insistent, his warm breath brushing against your skin.
“W-What’s happening?” you stammered, still gripping his hair as your body betrayed your mind, yearning for more despite the chaotic thoughts swirling around. “Who are you?”
Gojo paused for a moment, his blue eyes locking onto yours, a mixture of amusement and hunger dancing in their depths. “I’m your roommate who is enjoying the view,” he said with a teasing smile, leaning in closer, making your breath hitch.
“A roommate?” You shook your head, trying to clear the fog of pleasure clouding your thoughts. “I don‘t have a roommate! I live here alone..”
His laughter echoed softly in the room, a sound that sent another shiver of confusion down your spine. “You really think you’re alone in this apartment?” he replied, his voice low and playful, as if he reveled in your bewilderment. “I’ve been here all along, I thought that was obvious cause i spoke to you”
As the weight of his words sank in, the unease in your stomach twisted. The flickering lights, the shadows that danced along the walls—they suddenly felt more significant. Was it possible that you had unknowingly welcomed him into your life, this alluring presence who now had you caught in a web of confusion and desire?
You opened your mouth to protest, to question further, but another wave of pleasure washed over you as he resumed his teasing, his tongue flicking against your most sensitive spots. You felt the tension coiling tighter, each flick sending waves of heat crashing over you, making it hard to think straight.
“Don’t think too hard,” Gojo murmured, his voice dripping with mischief. “Just enjoy the moment. ”
His words twisted in your mind. You had never considered wanting something like this. The mixture of fear and pleasure churned within you, creating a heady cocktail that left you dizzy. “No, I—” you started, but the protest faltered as his tongue continued its wicked dance, sending another gasp from your lips
He looked up at you with an impish grin, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief. “You smell so good.. I couldn’t help myself.”
The playful tone in his voice only heightened the tension. You felt a blush creeping across your cheeks, a mix of embarrassment and something else—something intoxicating that made you want to lean into him. The softness of your sheets contrasted with the heat building between your legs, and you could hardly think straight.
As he continued to work his tongue, you couldn’t help but arch your back, instinctively seeking more of that delightful sensation. Each flick and swirl of his tongue ignited every nerve ending in your body, drawing soft moans from your lips. It was as if he had uncovered a hidden part of you that yearned to be explored.
“Does it feel good?” Gojo asked teasingly, pausing for just a moment to allow you to respond, his breath tickling your skin.
You could only nod, a desperate sound escaping you as the tension inside you coiled tighter. The world around you faded into nothingness, leaving just the two of you in this charged moment. He watched you with a hungry gaze, taking in every reaction, every sigh, as if he were memorizing your body’s responses.
“Just relax,” he encouraged, his voice a soothing balm that only added to the pleasure. “You’re so pretty”
With that, he resumed his teasing, his focus unwavering. You surrendered to the sensations washing over you, losing yourself in the warmth and intimacy of the moment, every heartbeat echoing the unspoken connection that lingered in the air.
A low moan escaped your lips, unbidden, as his tongue slipped inside you. The sensation was overwhelming, a flood of heat radiating through your body. Your fingers instinctively tightened their grip on his soft, white hair, tugging at the strands as your hips bucked involuntarily in response to the maddening rhythm he set. Each flick of his tongue sent ripples of pleasure coursing through you, your breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps.
Gojo’s presence was both commanding and teasing, his movements deliberate, savoring every reaction he drew from you. He pulled away momentarily, the cool air of the room brushing against your heated skin, and your eyes fluttered open just in time to meet his gaze. Those piercing blue eyes were filled with a dark amusement, a predatory gleam in them that made your pulse quicken.
“Such a pretty pussy,” he whispered, his voice low and reverent, as if he were admiring something rare and precious. The words sent a shiver down your spine, the heat inside you pooling deeper, igniting a fire that you couldn’t control. Before you could respond, his mouth was on you again, more insistent this time, his tongue working with a skill that left you trembling.
The room around you seemed to fade, the only thing anchoring you to reality being the intensity of the moment. Every nerve in your body felt alive, hyperaware of his every touch, every subtle shift. Your hands clutched his hair even tighter, a quiet whimper escaping you as you felt the tension coil tighter and tighter in your core.
You could barely form a coherent thought, lost in the sensation as he continued his assault on your senses. With each pass of his tongue, the pressure built until it became unbearable, and then, like a wave crashing over you, the release came in an overwhelming rush.
Your body arched, your breath catching as the climax tore through you, leaving you gasping for air. For a moment, time seemed to stop, your senses overloaded with the heat, the electricity, the overwhelming pleasure that left you shaking. He didn’t stop, though—his eyes never leaving yours, watching as you unraveled beneath him, fully aware of the power he held over you.
Your body finally relaxed, sinking back into the bed as the aftershocks rippled through you, your grip on his hair loosening. Gojo lifted his head, his lips glistening with evidence of what he’d just done, and that smirk returned, lazy and satisfied.
As your breathing slowly returned to normal, your body still trembling from the intensity of what had just happened, you blinked your eyes open. The warmth of what had just transpired lingered in the air, but something was missing. The weight of his presence—his hands, his body, the heat of his breath against your skin—had vanished.
You lifted your head, blinking through the dim light of the room. Where was he? Your heart pounded, a mix of confusion and unease settling in. You were sure you hadn’t imagined it—every touch had felt so real, so intense—but now, he was gone. Completely.
You sat up slowly, the sheets rustling as you scanned the room. The lamp on your bedside table flickered again, casting long, eerie shadows that seemed to shift with every second. The unsettling quiet that filled the space made your skin prickle. He’d been here—right here, between your legs—but now there was nothing, not even a sound to suggest he had ever existed.
Had he left? Was he still watching?
A faint breeze seemed to brush past you, chilling the room even further. You wrapped your arms around yourself, suddenly hyper-aware of your bare skin, of how exposed you were.
Just then, you heard it—the softest of sounds, a quiet, almost mocking laugh. It was close, impossibly close, yet no one was there. You shivered, your eyes darting around the room, searching for any sign of movement, any clue to his whereabouts. But there was nothing.
“Satoru Gojo. Remember the name, sweetheart. You’ll be hearing it a lot.”
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hey I need cheol to fuck and breed me stupid for doing well on my exams :(
Hit the Books, Hit the Sheets
Synopsis: Where after weeks with your face buried inside of books on the brink of exhaustion, however, when the day of the exam arrives, your hard work pays off as you receive notice of an outstanding grade—an A+. Overwhelmed with pride and joy, Seungcheol decides to reward you for your dedication. WC: 3.4k WARNINGS: Smut, mentions of body fluids, breeding, oral (f. receiving), praising, dirty talk, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, g'spot stimulation and lots and lots of praising (again).
Seungcheol walked into the apartment, tired from a long day's work. As he entered the living room, he noticed the familiar sight of you buried in your books, your face obscured by the pages. Concern tugged at his heartstrings as he observed the weariness etched on your features, the faint dark circles under your eyes telling a silent tale of your relentless study sessions.
"Baby," he called softly, approaching you with cautious steps. "You should take some rest. You've been at it all day."
You glanced up briefly, offering him a tired smile before returning your attention to the book in front of you. "I will, Seungcheol. Just a little more to go through."
Seungcheol sighed, taking a seat beside you on the bed. "You've been saying that for days now. I'm worried about you, sweetheart. You need to take care of yourself too."
Your brows furrowed slightly in concentration as you flipped another page, your mind fully consumed by the wealth of knowledge before you. "I know, Seungcheol. But I have exams coming up, and I need to be prepared."
He reached out, gently placing a hand on yours to stop your relentless flipping of pages. "I understand that, but pushing yourself too hard isn't healthy. You need to find a balance."
You met his concerned gaze, feeling a pang of guilt tug at your heart. "I'll rest after I finish this chapter, I promise."
Seungcheol sighed once more, realizing that his words were falling on deaf ears, your mind too deeply immersed in your studies to truly register his concerns. With a heavy heart, he leaned back against the pillows, silently watching as you continued to pour over your books, the weight of exhaustion evident in every line of your posture. He knew he couldn't force you to stop, but he hoped that eventually, you would realize the importance of taking care of yourself, even amidst the chaos of exams and deadlines.
s the days went by and Seungcheol noticed you becoming increasingly consumed by your studies, he took it upon himself to ensure you were taking care of your physical health as well. Despite your insistence on studying continuously, he made it a point to interrupt your sessions with nutritious snacks and meals.
He would gently tap you on the shoulder, interrupting your concentration momentarily as he placed a plate of fresh fruit or a homemade sandwich beside your books. "I brought you some snacks, sweetheart," he would say softly, a hint of concern in his voice.
You would offer him a grateful smile, pausing your reading momentarily to indulge in the nourishment he provided. Though your mind was still preoccupied with your studies, you couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth and appreciation for his thoughtfulness.
At dinner time, Seungcheol would coax you away from your desk, gently reminding you of the importance of taking a break and nourishing your body. He would prepare wholesome meals, ensuring that you ate enough to sustain your energy levels through the long hours of studying ahead.
As Seungcheol pulled up to the college campus, he turned to you with a reassuring smile. "You've got this, babe," he said, his voice filled with encouragement. "Just remember everything you've studied, and trust in yourself. I believe in you."
You nodded, feeling a surge of determination as you gripped his hand tightly. "Thank you, Seungcheol," you replied, your voice filled with gratitude. "I'll do my best."
With one last reassuring squeeze of your hand, Seungcheol watched as you stepped out of the car and made your way towards the college building. As you disappeared from view, he couldn't help but feel a swell of pride for the strength and resilience you displayed, even in the face of daunting challenges.
Once you were inside the campus, your phone began to buzz incessantly with messages from Seungcheol, each one filled with words of encouragement and love.
"Hey babe, you've got this! I believe in you!"
"Just a reminder that you're amazing and capable of anything, including acing this exam. I'm cheering for you all the way!"
"You're gonna ace that exam, my love! Make me proud!"
With each message that popped up on your screen, you felt a surge of confidence and determination. Seungcheol's unwavering support served as a constant source of motivation, driving you to give it your all during the exam.
You settle into your seat, the words of Seungcheol echoing in your mind like a comforting melody. With a determined click of your pen, you begin to write, each stroke of ink on paper fueled by his unwavering belief in you. As you tackle the exam questions with a newfound sense of confidence, memories of Seungcheol flash before your eyes, reminding you that you are capable of overcoming any challenge that comes your way.
Hours pass in a blur of concentration and determination, until finally, you complete the exam and hand it to your professor. It's almost ironic how quickly he corrects your paper, mere minutes compared to the weeks of intense study that preceded this moment. But as you sit in your seat once again, waiting for the final grade, you can't help but feel a sense of pride knowing that you gave it your all, guided by the unwavering support of Seungcheol.
Heart pounding in your chest, you rise from your seat as your teacher calls your name to receive your exam. With trembling hands, you accept the paper, barely able to contain the anticipation bubbling within you. As your eyes scan the page, your breath catches in your throat at the sight of the A+ adorned with a red circle, a silent testament to your hard work and dedication.
"Thank you," you manage to whisper to your teacher, a grateful smile gracing your lips as you swiftly exit the classroom. Once outside, you find a secluded spot and press your knuckles against your mouth to stifle a scream of joy, tears of relief and happiness pricking at the corners of your eyes.
With trembling fingers, you dial Seungcheol's number, the night's breeze swirling around you as you wait anxiously for him to pick up. Finally, his voice fills your ears, sweet and familiar, as he greets you with a warmth that washes over you like a comforting embrace.
"Hey, how did it go?" he asks eagerly, his excitement palpable even through the phone.
You take a deep breath, the words tumbling out in a rush as you share the news. "I got an A+, Seungcheol! I did it!"
On the other end of the line, you can practically hear Seungcheol's jubilant celebration, his joyous jumps echoing through the receiver. "That's amazing, sweetheart! I knew you could do it!"
He pauses for a moment before continuing, his voice filled with determination. "Don't move, okay? I'm coming to pick you up right now. We're going to celebrate at your favorite restaurant."
In a matter of minutes, Seungcheol's car pulls up in front of the college, and you can't help but feel a rush of excitement as you spot him stepping out of the driver's seat. His face lights up with a beaming smile as he rushes towards you, his arms outstretched for a big hug.
You meet him halfway, throwing yourself into his embrace as he lifts you off the ground in a tight squeeze. The warmth of his hug envelops you, filling you with a sense of comfort and joy as you revel in the moment.
"Congratulations, my love," he murmurs into your ear, his voice filled with pride and admiration. "I'm so proud of you."
As he sets you back down, he takes your hand and leads you towards the car, opening the door for you with a flourish. "Let's go celebrate," he says, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "But first, you need to eat well. You've earned it."
With a grateful smile, you climb into the car beside him.
After a celebratory dinner at your favorite restaurant with Seungcheol, you return home feeling content and relaxed. The warmth of the hot water soothes your tired muscles as you sink into the bath, letting the steam envelop you in a cocoon of relaxation. With each passing minute, the stress of the day melts away, leaving you feeling lighter and more at ease.
Once you've finished your bath, you towel off and before climbing into bed beside Seungcheo, and you can't help but smile as you watch him play on his phone. But when he senses your presence, he quickly tosses the device aside and turns his attention to you, his lips finding their way to your face in a trail of soft kisses.
You giggle at his affectionate display, enjoying the gentle caress of his lips against your skin as he peppers kisses down your face, tracing a path along your jawline and down to your neck. His touch sends shivers down your spine, and you can't help but laugh at the ticklish sensation.
But as his kisses linger on your neck, you feel a sudden rush of sensitivity, a soft moan escaping your lips involuntarily. Seungcheol's eyes light up at the sound, a mischievous glint dancing in his gaze.
He chuckles softly, his lips trailing lower along your neck, leaving a trail of feather-light kisses in their wake. "Since you've been so amazing today," he murmurs against your skin, "I think it's only fair that I give you a reward."
Your breath catches in your throat as you feel his touch ignite a fire within you, anticipation building with each passing second. "And what might that be?" you ask, your voice barely a whisper.
As he reaches your belly, he gently pushes up your jersey, granting him full access to your clothed pussy. Your body trembles with anticipation as his gaze locks with yours, his eyes filled with an intense hunger that sends a shiver of excitement coursing through you.
Without hesitation, Seungcheol lowers himself even further, his lips brushing against the fabric covering your clit. A soft moan escapes your lips as you feel the warmth of his breath against your most sensitive area.
With a teasing grin, Seungcheol leans in closer, his tongue flicking out to trace a slow stripe along your clothed clit. You flinch, moving your hips impatiently to feel his tongue.
As Seungcheol removes your panties and spreads your legs wide open, anticipation pulses through your veins, your body thrumming with desire. When his wet and hot tongue makes contact with your clit, you throw your head back, a moan escaping your lips.
"Mmm…" you moan, the sensation sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. You can feel the sensitivity of your clit heightened after days of intense studying, your body craving the release that only Seungcheol can provide.
Your fingers tangle in his hair, urging him on as his tongue flicks your clit with increasing speed. The pleasure builds and builds, each stroke of his tongue driving you closer to the edge.
"Ah! Oh god, Seungcheol," you cry out, the pleasure becoming almost unbearable. You can feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter within you, your body teetering on the brink of release.
As you gasp for breath, you plead with him, your voice dripping with desperation. "I'm gonna cum, Seungcheol. Please, please!"
With a primal growl, Seungcheol redoubles his efforts, sucking your pussy with an intensity that leaves you trembling, you could listen to the sound he made while he slurped your cunt. The sensation is overwhelming, pushing you past the point of no return as you finally cum in his tongue.
"Oh, Seungcheol," you pant, your thighs tightening around his head as you ride out the waves of your orgasm. "You're... you're amazing. So good... so fucking good."
As Seungcheol continues to lavish attention on your sensitive pussy, your thighs instinctively tighten around his head, riding the waves of your orgasm with abandon. Each flick of his tongue sends sparks of pleasure shooting through you, intensifying the sensations to dizzying heights.
But as the pleasure becomes almost too much to bear, your body convulses with oversensitivity, the overwhelming sensation bordering on pain. With a shaky breath, you finally manage to choke out a plea.
"Seungcheol, please... stop," you whimper, your voice laced with need and desperation.
Seungcheol pulls away reluctantly, his hands moving to grasp your boobs as he gazes down at you with a hungry glint in his eyes. You meet his gaze, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you struggle to regain your composure.
"God, you're so fucking beautiful," he murmurs, his voice low and husky with desire. "I could eat you out forever."
A blush creeps onto your cheeks at his words, but a surge of arousal floods through you at the praise. With a coy smile, you reach out to trace a finger along his jawline, the intimacy of the moment igniting a fire within you.
"You're amazing" you whisper, your voice husky with desire.
His eyes darken with desire at your words, and he leans in closer, his lips brushing against yours in a tender kiss. "I'll always make you feel good, baby" he murmurs against your lips. "You're mine, and I'll take care of you forever."
As your lips meld in a heated, passionate kiss, you feel Seungcheol's tongue eagerly seeking entrance, his lips sucking and teasing yours. With a soft whimper, your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, pulling him closer as desire courses through your veins.
Seungcheol breaks the kiss, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he gazes down at you with dark, lust-filled eyes. "What do you want, babygirl?" he murmurs, his voice husky with desire.
You whimper softly, your body pulsing with need as you meet his gaze with a hunger of your own. "I need you," you whisper, your voice trembling with desire. "I need you to fuck me, Seungcheol. I need you to make me yours." At this point, you were completely crazy for him, after all these days without his touch that you craved so much.
A hungry grin spreads across Seungcheol's lips as he leans in closer, his hands moving to grip your hips possessively. "Oh, baby," he growls, his voice dripping with desire. "I'm going to please you all night long. You're mine, and I'm going to make you feel so fucking good."
With a needy moan, you arch your back, pressing your body closer to his as you feel the heat of his arousal pressing against you. "Yes!" you whimper, your voice barely a whisper. "Please, Seungcheol."
Seungcheol's sweatpants fall to the floor, revealing his throbbing erection, wet and glistening with anticipation. Your breath catches in your throat as you watch him, your body trembling with need as you ache for him to fill you completely.
With a low groan, Seungcheol positions himself between your legs, his tip teasing your entrance, the anticipation sending sparks of pleasure coursing through your veins. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, he begins to enter you, his massive cock stretching you to your limits as you gasp at the sensation.
As he inches deeper inside you, Seungcheol's voice fills the air, his words dripping with pride and admiration. "I'm so proud of you, baby," he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. "You've worked so hard, and you deserve to be rewarded."
His words send a surge of warmth flooding through you, your heart swelling with love and gratitude for this man who stands before you, ready to give you everything you desire. With each thrust, he praises your efforts, his words driving you wild with desire.
"I'm going to fuck you so good, baby," he growls, his voice filled with primal need. "I'm going to make you feel every inch of me, the way you deserve it."
With each thrust, Seungcheol's words of love and admiration fill the room, mingling with the sounds of your moans and the wet slaps of your bodies coming together.
"I love you," he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion, as he drives himself deeper into you.
"You worked so hard," he praises, his movements becoming more urgent with each passing moment, as if he's trying to convey his love and appreciation through every thrust.
"You're so beautiful," he whispers, his voice a soft caress against your skin, as he loses himself in the pleasure of being with you.
With every word, every declaration of love, Seungcheol's thrusts become more intense, more desperate, as if he's trying to pour all of his love and desire into you with each movement of his body.
"I love you!" he repeats, his voice a mantra of devotion as he continues to move inside you
As your cheeks flush with embarrassment, Seungcheol's gaze softens, his fingers gently caressing your hair with a tenderness that sends shivers down your spine. His cock continues to pound into your g-spot with precision, each thrust sending waves of pleasure crashing through your body, leaving you unable to do anything but moan and whimper in ecstasy.
"You like that, baby?" he coos, his voice low and husky with desire. "You like the way my cock feels inside you, hitting that sweet spot over and over again?"
You can only nod in response, your words lost in a sea of pleasure as Seungcheol's relentless thrusts drive you closer and closer to the edge of bliss.
"That's it," he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin as he continues to drive into you with unbridled passion. "Just let go, baby. Let me take care of you. I'll make you feel so good, I promise."
With each word, each caress, Seungcheol's cock pounds into you with an intensity that leaves you breathless, your body writhing beneath him as you surrender yourself completely to the pleasure he provides.
"Oh, fuck," Seungcheol groans, his voice strained with pleasure as he feels your pussy spasming around him, the clenching sensation making him stutter in his movements. "You feel so good, baby. So tight and wet around my cock."
As you roll your eyes back in ecstasy, lost in the pleasure of his thrusts, Seungcheol's words become more desperate, more urgent.
"God, you're driving me crazy," he gasps, his hips thrusting faster and harder, unable to resist the overwhelming sensations coursing through him. "I can't hold back anymore, baby. I'm gonna cum so hard for you."
"Please, Seungcheol," you whimper, your voice dripping with desperation as you circle your clit, trying to milk him for all he's worth. "Cum for me, baby. I need to feel you come inside me."
Seungcheol's eyes squeeze shut tight, a curse slipping past his lips as he feels your pussy clenching around him harder, the sensation driving him to the brink of ecstasy.
"Cumming," he gasps, his voice a ragged whisper as he empties himself inside you, his body trembling with the intensity of his release.
As Seungcheol's hot cum fills your cunt, you can't help but moan in ecstasy at the sensation of his cock pushing the cum deeper and deeper inside you. The overwhelming pleasure sends waves of ecstasy crashing over you, driving you to the brink of another orgasm.
"Fuck," you mumble, already overwhelmed by the intensity of the pleasure coursing through you. "Keep fucking your cum inside me, Seungcheol. I need it. I need all of you."
Seungcheol's moan is almost pained as he buries his face in your neck, his body trembling with desire at your words. "God, yes," he groans, his voice thick with need.
Seungcheol watches with satisfaction as he withdraws his cock from your pussy, his gaze lingering on the sight of his cum dripping from your wet and messy cunt. A sense of pride washes over him as he takes in the fucked-out expression on your face, knowing that he's given you the release you so desperately needed after days of exhaustion.
Your relaxed demeanor is like a reward to him, a testament to his ability to bring you pleasure and satisfaction even in the midst of your busiest and most stressful times. He can't help but feel a surge of pride knowing that he's been able to fuck every last bit of tension out of you, leaving you looking and feeling more relaxed than you have in days.
"I love you," you whisper, your voice filled with sincerity and adoration.
Seungcheol's eyes soften at your words, a tender smile spreading across his face as he reaches out to cup your cheek. "I love you too," he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion.
#seventeen reactions#seventeen imagines#seventeen headcanons#seventeen scenarios#seventeen x reader#seventeen#seventeen fluff#seventeen smut#svt smut#svt imagines#seungcheol x reader#seungcheol smut#seungcheol#seungcheol fanfic#choi seungcheol#scoups smut#scoups imagines#scoups x y/n#scoups x reader#scoups x you#seungcheol x oc#seungcheol x you#seungcheol x y/n#seungcheol imagines#seungcheol scenarios#seungcheol fluff#seungcheol angst#scoups fanfic#scoups fluff
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#i feel like if i keep coughing im going to break a rib or smth lmao#also i randomly nearly threw up earlier just before dinner and then it went away and it was like nothing happened#ate my food immediately after and everything#truly a baffling turn of events#anyway i want my cough to go away before my lungs explode
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OnlyFat
Nigel looked at himself in the mirror, as he did every morning, admiring his toned and sculpted body, the result of years of dieting and hard work at the gym. At 28 years old, he felt at the peak of his physical form. Firm muscles, broad shoulders, and a defined abdomen, along with his handsome face and sizable cock, had earned him a considerable number of followers on OnlyFans. While he wasn’t a millionaire, earning an average of about two thousand dollars a month allowed him certain luxuries and a pretty comfortable lifestyle. He enjoyed his routine. He filmed private videos, always eager to please, and responded to the strangest and most specific requests from his fans. No matter what they asked of him, he always found a way to enjoy it; perhaps due to his naturally submissive nature, something he had discovered long ago and now used to his advantage.
That Tuesday, as he checked the messages in his account, he came across a proposal that made him pause. It was from someone named Dom43, who had written to him several times before, though never with such a direct request. The message read:
“I’ll give you a thousand dollars if you gain ten pounds of fat in a month and send me a video of the results. No tricks. I want to see how you change. What do you say?”
Nigel raised an eyebrow and reread the offer over and over. It wasn’t the typical request he was used to. At first, it seemed strange, almost absurd. But the money—a thousand dollars!—was a considerable temptation. Plus, a part of him, the part that had always enjoyed obeying and submitting to others’ desires, felt a twinge of excitement at the idea. After a few minutes of thought, he shrugged and let himself go with his gut.
“I accept,” he wrote back.
He knew doing this would change something, though he wasn’t sure what. What he didn’t expect was just how much this would lead him down an unexpected path.
For Nigel, gaining ten pounds in a month didn’t seem like much of a challenge. And he knew that once he hit the goal and pocketed that thousand dollars, he could go back to his strict diet and regain his physique in a matter of weeks. It was just a simple detour, a small, temporary indulgence. Nothing serious. With that assurance, he decided to change his eating habits.
That same afternoon, he went to the grocery store, filling his cart with everything he normally avoided: frozen pizzas, pastries, salty snacks, and especially lots of tubs of ice cream, which he promised himself to devour every night. Salads were out of the picture for a few weeks. When he got home, the idea of indulging in unrestrained pleasure, of breaking the rules he had imposed on himself for years, turned him on. Even more so when he remembered he was doing it for Dom43, to fulfill his request.
That night, he sat on the couch in front of the TV, a pizza on one side and a tub of ice cream on the other, a smile on his face. At first, he ate because he was hungry, but soon that hunger turned into something darker, more intimate. He kept eating, even though he was no longer hungry. The mere thought of knowing he was stuffing himself, filling up to please someone, gave him a thrill he had never experienced before. When he finished, he lay back on the couch, gently stroking his slightly bloated stomach, feeling strangely satisfied.
***
Two weeks had passed, and Nigel had fully embraced his new routine of excess. He was eating as if it were a competition. The food filled him, but what really satisfied him was the idea of transforming his body at someone else’s request. He knew he was changing, that his body was reacting. And it was confirmed when he weighed himself: eight pounds gained. He was close to reaching his goal.
The next day, while working out, his personal trainer, Mark, noticed something different. Nigel was in the middle of doing crunches when Mark let out a mocking laugh.
“You’ve been slacking a bit, man,” he said, giving Nigel’s stomach a light tap. “You’ve put on some weight. And not just around the belly…” Mark added, motioning toward his backside.
Nigel laughed, trying to hide the heat rushing to his face. “Yeah, well, I’ve been indulging a little—nothing serious.”
Mark shook his head, but the comment stuck with Nigel. That teasing remark hit deep. It didn’t bother him, though. On the contrary, he liked it. For the rest of the workout, he couldn’t stop thinking about how his body was changing, about how much Dom43 would enjoy watching him soften up.
When he got home, he quickly stripped off his clothes and looked in the mirror. He touched his stomach, which was no longer as flat as it once was, and caressed the soft roundness beginning to form on his rear. Mark’s words echoed in his mind, and at that moment, Nigel couldn’t resist any longer. He collapsed onto his bed and jerked off, reaching the most intense climax of his life. What had started as a simple game to make some money had now completely consumed him.
The month had come to an end, and Nigel was ready. He carefully set up the camera, making sure the lighting was perfect, bright enough to highlight every change in his body, to show Dom43 the results of his effort. He stood in front of the mirror, took a deep breath, and began undressing slowly, recording the whole process. First, he removed his shirt, revealing his torso. His chest, once firm and defined, now had a slight sag to it. His belly, swollen and covered by a soft layer of fat, folded into rolls when he bent slightly. Then he pulled down his pants, leaving him in his tight white briefs, which now clung to him like never before. His thighs were noticeably thicker. But the real surprise came when he turned around. His ass, bigger and rounder, seemed to want to burst out of the tight fabric. The briefs could barely contain it. He gently touched his ass, feeling its fullness. Without missing a beat, he moved to the scale he had placed in front of the camera. He stepped on it carefully, watching the numbers climb rapidly. And there it was, the number that left him stunned: 191 pounds. He had gained fifteen pounds instead of the ten Dom43 had asked for. Five extra pounds, the result of his complete submission to food. Seeing the number, Nigel instantly got hard, unable to help himself.
“A hundred and ninety-one...” he muttered to himself.
Without thinking any further, he let the excitement take over. He jerked off in front of the camera, his breath ragged, and his moans filling the room. He did it for Dom43, but also for himself, for everything he had discovered about himself in the process.
Once finished, he sent the private video with a mix of anxiety and satisfaction, eagerly awaiting Dom43’s response. It didn’t take long to arrive: a payment confirmation accompanied by a comment that made Nigel shiver. “You’re a pathetic pig. You gained all this weight just because I told you to. I love it.” Nigel read aloud quietly. “I’ll give you ten thousand dollars more if you gain another twenty pounds in two months. Do you dare to become my fantasy?”
Nigel sat on the edge of his bed, staring at his still-naked, slightly sweaty body after the recording. His phone’s screen glowed with Dom43’s message: ten thousand dollars to gain another twenty pounds. The offer was tempting, too tempting. With that kind of money, he wouldn’t have to make more videos for months. He could take a break from his online life and focus on something else. Just the thought of that financial freedom made him feel relieved. But there was something more—a deep desire to please Dom43, to follow his orders, to submit to whatever he asked. It consumed him inside. He had discovered a new form of pleasure. Every pound he gained, every humiliating comment, ignited something within him that he had never felt before. Pleasing Dom43 had become almost an addiction. Yet, fear lingered in the background. He had already gained fifteen pounds, and although he initially thought he could lose it easily, he was starting to doubt whether the same would be true for thirty-five pounds. What if he couldn’t? What if continuing to gain weight destroyed the success of his OnlyFans account?
***
Nigel never imagined he would lose so much control. What started as a challenge, almost a game, had become a new reality. In just a month and a half of nonstop eating, he had gained the twenty-pounds Dom43 requested, pushing his body to limits he had never thought possible. Now weighing 211 pounds, the man he saw in the mirror was almost unrecognizable. His belly hung over the waistband, his thighs rubbed together with every step, and his once firm chest now bounced lightly with each movement. But the most shocking transformation of all was his ass, now enormous, two soft masses that jiggled with every step. And for some reason, that excited him more than it scared him.
When he arrived at the gym one afternoon, Mark greeted him with his usual mocking grin.
"Well, look who's here: my star client," Mark said sarcastically, his eyes scanning Nigel’s new body.
Throughout the workout, Mark made constant comments about his weight. Every time Nigel did a squat or lifted weights, he could feel Mark’s eyes on him, watching how his belly wobbled or how his ass strained against his shorts, which barely contained it anymore. But the most intense moment came after the workout when Nigel stepped out of the showers. As he was drying off, he noticed Mark watching him from across the locker room.
"Jesus, man..." Mark said, his eyes trailing over Nigel’s naked body. "You're huge. Like, seriously."
Before Nigel could respond, Mark stepped closer and gave him a smack on the ass. The sound echoed in the room, and Nigel’s butt cheeks rippled under Mark’s firm hand like jello. Nigel felt his face heat up, a mix of shame and arousal spreading over his skin.
"Damn," Mark laughed, "that moves like jello. What have you been eating, ice cream by the gallon? You’re getting obese, dude."
Nigel couldn’t answer, his throat dry, his mind stuck on the echo of Mark’s words. Obese. It was the first time anyone had called him that, and instead of being offended, the word hit him like a lightning bolt of pure desire. He tried to laugh, but the sound came out weak, almost choked.
He stood in front of the camera, taking deep breaths as he prepared for his second private session with Dom43. Like before, he undressed slowly, savoring each moment. He pulled off his shirt, revealing a torso that no longer had any trace of the firm muscles he once prided himself on. His chest was soft and round, visibly moving with each breath. His nipples had widened and felt unusually sensitive as he brushed his fingers over them. Then he slid off his pants, left in the same white briefs from the previous video. This time, they felt like a cruel joke. The edges dug into his hips and thighs, squeezing him in a way that was both uncomfortable and intensely arousing. His swollen belly hung slightly over the waistband, which seemed ready to give up the fight. Nigel turned to face the camera, letting it capture the most obvious change of all: his ass. It completely filled the briefs, making them look absurdly small. The fabric was stretched to its limit, with the tops of his cheeks spilling over, exposing the crack as if the briefs couldn’t possibly contain so much mass. He gave a slight shake, and his ass jiggled, continuing to bounce for a few seconds before settling. Seeing himself like that—so exposed, so impossibly large—sent a wave of arousal through him that nearly made him lose control right then and there. Nigel couldn’t help but smile. He knew Dom43 would love seeing what he had accomplished. The high point of the video came when he stepped onto the scale, carefully positioned in front of the camera. He showed the result: 211 pounds. Thirty-five pounds more than he weighed when this all began. He couldn’t help himself; the thrill of having transformed for someone else, of having fully surrendered to it, overwhelmed him. Once again, he masturbated in front of the camera, but this time, the orgasm was more intense, more liberating. His breath grew ragged, and every curve of his body shook with the force of his release.
When it was over, he sent the video to Dom43. The payment came through quickly, but what made Nigel’s heart race wasn’t the large sum of money. It was the words that followed.
“You’ve become my obedient pig. You’re good for nothing but getting fatter. You should be ashamed of how far you’ve fallen, but the worst part is, I know you love it.”
Nigel swallowed hard, feeling a knot tighten in his stomach. It was true. He loved every humiliating word, every cruel comment that made him feel smaller, more submissive, despite his growing size. But it was the last line of the message that left him frozen.
“I’ll give you twenty thousand dollars if you gain another thirty pounds.”
***
Nigel was nervous. It had been over two months since he last filmed a video for his regular OnlyFans subscribers, and now, with his body drastically transformed, he had no idea how they would react. He wanted to see if the weight gain had changed anything, if his fans were still interested in him despite the fact that he no longer had the muscular, chiseled physique that had attracted them in the first place. Deep down, he hoped it wouldn’t matter too much, that they would still desire him, and that he wouldn’t have to rely on Dom43 to stay financially stable. He set up the camera like always, but this time, he took a longer look at himself in the mirror. It was incredible how much his body had changed in just two months. His body felt heavy. Every movement made him more aware of his size.
"It's just a video," he whispered to himself, trying to calm his nerves. "I just want to see how they react."
He stood in front of the camera, shirtless, revealing his round, soft torso, wearing only a pair of black briefs that used to be loose on him. He did the usual gestures he used in his videos, showing his body from different angles, touching his chest and stomach, running his hands over the areas now covered in fat.
He uploaded the video.
The first responses came in quickly. As soon as he read the comments, his fears were confirmed. There was no acceptance, no admiration. Just criticism, mockery, and, above all, shock.
“What happened to you? You used to look incredible, but now you look like a different person,” wrote one of his longtime followers.
“You’re huge! And not in a good way. What kind of joke is this?” added another.
The comments kept coming, each one harsher than the last. They called him fat and disgusting. Some even felt betrayed by the change, as if Nigel had deliberately hidden what he’d been doing over the past few months. Others openly laughed at him, making fun of how his body had lost all definition. Nigel read every word, feeling a mix of humiliation and indescribable excitement. He had expected a negative reaction, but the brutal honesty of their attacks surpassed all his expectations. Far from feeling defeated, something dark and deep inside him awakened. Each insult, each criticism, made him feel more alive, more aware of his body and what he had achieved. The taunts about his physique didn’t discourage him; they aroused him in a way he couldn’t ignore. It was as if those words freed him. He didn’t want to go back. He wanted to push forward. He turned off his computer screen and lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Dom43 had offered him twenty thousand dollars to gain another thirty pounds. Thirty pounds that would transform him even more, taking him to a new level of submission. He had thought about rejecting the offer, about going back to his former physique. But after reading his fans’ comments, after feeling the impact of their words on his body, there was no longer any doubt. With a smile on his face, Nigel decided he was going to accept the challenge. He was ready to fully give in, to see just how far he could go.
***
Nigel stopped going to the gym altogether. Every morning, he woke up to the same routine: eat, jerk off, and eat more. His appetite seemed endless, and his libido was out of control, higher than ever. The discipline he once had had crumbled, replaced by an obsession with giving in to food and the thrill of his own transformation. His clothes no longer fit. The jeans, tight shirts, and briefs that had once defined his muscular figure now wouldn't even make it past his thighs or tore when he tried putting them on. Soon, he realized the only piece of clothing that still fit him was an old tracksuit, and even that didn’t fit well—it was so tight that the fabric stretched ridiculously, and his belly stuck out. He only wore it when he went out to buy more food, but at home, he spent his days completely naked.
In three months, Nigel had gained another thirty-five pounds, surpassing even Dom43’s challenge. His body was unrecognizable, and the scale didn’t lie. He weighed 246 pounds, a number he’d never imagined reaching. His thighs were so thick they had changed the way he walked. His belly was soft, round, and hung over. His arms, once firm, were now wrapped in fat. And his chest, completely soft, jiggled with even the slightest movement. He knew it was time to film the video for Dom43. He prepared in the simplest and most provocative way possible: completely naked, with a box of donuts by his side and the scale ready to show the result. The camera started rolling, and Nigel let himself get caught up in the moment. He grabbed one of the donuts and bit into it slowly, letting the sugar slide down his lips as he chewed exaggeratedly. He knew Dom43 would love to see him like this, enjoying the food that had turned him into what he was now.
“I’ve surpassed your challenge,” Nigel said, his voice thick with pleasure as he bit into another donut. “Another thirty-five pounds. I hope you’re happy.”
He stood up with difficulty, his ass visibly bouncing as he walked toward the scale. He stepped onto it with some effort, and it stopped at 246 pounds. Nigel showed the number to the camera with a satisfied grin on his face.
“246 pounds,” he said with pride in his voice. “But that’s not all.”
He grabbed a measuring tape and started measuring his body. First, he wrapped it around his waist.
“Fifty inches,” he announced, staring at his belly.
Then he measured his ass, which had turned into a massive ball of fat, and the number was just as shocking.
“Fifty-three inches. I can’t even fit in my office chair.”
Nigel paused for a moment, looking at the camera with a euphoric expression.
“All of this... is for you, Dom43. I hope you’re enjoying this as much as I am.”
He ended the video with one last bite, chewing slowly as he jiggled his whole body while masturbating. When he finished, he turned off the camera and collapsed onto the couch, panting from exhaustion. He sent the video to Dom43 and waited, knowing the response wouldn’t take long. When it came, it was exactly what he expected.
“You’ve exceeded my expectations, pig. I never imagined you’d reach this point, that you’d become such a mountain of fat for me. Look at yourself, you’re pathetic, completely out of control. And you know what? I love it. You’ve done everything I asked and more. You’re the perfect submissive fat boy. You’re good for nothing but eating, getting fatter, and letting others laugh at you. But I must also say, I’m proud of you. You’ve proven you’re completely mine, willing to transform yourself this way just to please me. You’re incredible, in the worst way possible, of course, but that’s exactly where your greatness lies.”
Nigel stared at the screen, absorbed in the words. He had done everything Dom43 had wanted. And yet, he felt he could go further. The idea of gaining even more weight, of leaving behind any trace of his former self, called to him with unstoppable force. Without thinking too much, he typed the question that had been on his mind for days, a question that made him tremble with anticipation:
“How much will you pay me if I reach 300 pounds?”
The silence that followed for a few seconds was deafening, but Dom43’s response came quickly.
“I’m not paying you anything. This time, you won’t do it for the money. I want you to do it for me, because you can’t stop yourself now. I want you to gain until you reach 300 pounds just to please me, because now you know that’s the only thing that turns you on. You’ll do it because you belong to me.”
Nigel took a deep breath, feeling each word of that message wrap around him, filling him with a mix of submission and absolute pleasure. He knew Dom43 was right. It was no longer about the money. It was about something much bigger. What had started as a simple desire to fulfill a fantasy had become his reality. With trembling fingers, he typed the only thing he knew he could say at that moment, the only thing his mind and cock screamed for with overwhelming clarity:
“I’ll do it.”
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Hi! Could I please ask for: mille-feuille + s'more + croissant + champagne + mai tai + tonic water... served by Carlos Sainz Jr for Toto Wolff's daughter? Btw, your writing is amazing, Bunny!
bakery menu!
want to submit your own order? hit up the menu, i'd love to hear from you. i am working on a ton of awesome things so please, feel free! thank you so much for everything that has been sent to me! and thank you to this lovely person for submitting an order! i love that you picked wolff!reader, something about that trope just gets to me every time, haha.
mille-feuille: “that’s it, fuck, that’s a good girl.” + s'more: "The accent gets to you, doesn't it?" + croissant: "i wonder if your father knows what happens during the off hours. if he knows you're here with me." + champagne: sugar daddy situation + mai tai: loss of virginity + tonic water: age gap served by carlos sainz jr. (formula one)!!
cw: smut/pwp, wolff!reader, sugar daddy au, age gap (20/30), virgin!reader, loss of virginity, cowgirl position
toto wolff should've known. he prided himself on being a smart man, who was proactive with his career and always stayed on the ball. but formula one blinded him to the activities of his daughter. toto thought having you play assistant over the summer break would teach you a thing or two before you went back to university in the fall.
but you kept ending up in the ferrari garage more often than not.
your father should've also been looking at your bank account a little closer. you didn't work, so why were you making a considerable income? well it didn't come from toto wolff, but rather ferrari's driver, carlos sainz, number fifty-five.
"you don't have to stuff it in my bra like a stripper." you said as you watched him put them down your shirt. you caught a glimpse of a purple euro banknote and felt heat rise in your cheeks. carlos was not a light spender when it came to you.
"i thought you wanted to be covered in money. now i won't do that because it's dirty. but, knowing you'll go back to your father with my money in your pocket... i like the feeling." those big brown eyes stared at you with want.
it wasn't even a power thing, or even a sex thing. carlos liked being around you and maybe part of him enjoyed when you snuck off to the ferrari garage and out of your father's grasp, but besides he enjoyed your company. but tonight you were taking the next step.
you looked up at him from your spot on his hotel bed and asked, "are you trying to butter me up because we're going to have sex?"
he smiled, "there is not buttering up. no butter at all." the slipped the last bill, a crisp hundred, into the strap of our bra under your shirt sleeve. then patted your breast playfully.
you chuckled, "right." you two had been intimate in other ways. he had fingered you and ate you out. you gave him handjobs and sucked his cock. you've just never had penetrative sex. you were technically a virgin. which at first shocked carlos. but then he remembered who your father was. toto wolff wasn't letting his daughter go out clubbing in monaco, hence why you were in university in france. and even then, the team principal kept a keen eye out for you.
but tonight, you were all carlos'. so when you took your shirt off and exposed the bills in your bra. it made carlos smile. he was taking wolff's daughter's virginity. he showered you in affection and praise.
“that’s it, fuck, that’s a good girl.” he praised which made you shiver. his hands on your breasts as he groped them over your bra and the money. he could understand why toto was so protective of you.
"please, carlos."
he chuckled as he got you fully onto the bed before he took your bra off and admired your bare breasts. he grabbed the money off your heated chest, sweat making the bills cling to you. he placed it all on the nightstand for you to take home. made you look like a whore. but you were the furthest thing from that. you were carlos' lover. he admired you, "you're so beautiful. can't believe an old man like toto wolff had a hand in making something so pretty."
"carlos." you flushed.
he remarked, "the accent gets to you, doesn't it?" he got onto the bed with you and got you out of your pants. he admired your almost nude form, in just thin cotton panties. you watched him get undressed, his toned body revealed to you as he asked, "i wonder if your father knows what happens during the off hours. if he knows you're here with me."
carlos was almost ten years older than you, raced for a rival team and above all else would never meet the standards your father had for a man that could be with you. not that you cared about what your father thought, you were an adult who could make your own choices.
you remarked, "i don't care if he knows. he needs to lose the grip on me. i'm almost done schooling, i have to live my life. and that's with you." you smiled a little when carlos got onto bed beside you. yu stroked his face lovingly.
"am i in that life?" he asked as he reached and stroked your hip lovingly.
"of course, where else would you be?" you asked as you cupped his face. you trailed your thumb across the side of his nose. you had to admit, you really liked his nose.
he smiled, "six feet under when your father finds out." his eyes went a little wide when you straddled his waist and splayed your fingers across his chest, "do you want me dead, beautiful?"
you laughed, "yes, i want my boyfriend dead." as you rubbed yourself up against his cock. you felt a smile pull at your lips as you braced yourself against him, "i want him six feet under in a pine box."
"well." he mused as he took you by the hips, "maybe to die by your hand would be worth it." then tensed up when you sank down on his cock. he shuddered a little and felt the pleasure bloom in his body. that felt good.
"like this?" you asked. you had ridden his thigh before. and you told him earlier that the only way you'd lose your virginity to him was if you had the control (sometimes you were painfully like your father).
carlos nodded almost dumbly as he held onto you tightly, "perfect. now you move as you like, this is about you." wasn't he just the sweetest? as if he wasn't taking the virginity of the daughter of a rival team principal.
you held onto his strong shoulders and moves your hips a little bit. you smiled down at him, especially when the pleasure made his expression changed. he looked handsome even when the pleasure made the heat bloom in his face, down his neck.
"fuck, honey." he said softly, "i know why wolff made sure you went to school far, far away from the paddock."
you leaned in and pushed hair out of your face before you kissed him on the lips, "i'm pretty sure if we met any sooner, you'd be next to a cradle robber. wouldn't look nice in the press." you could feel the blush high in your cheeks as you rode him. you could feel the pleasure down to your feet as you really worked his cock.
"i would've made sure that no one else could have you."
you smiled, "don't worry, you're the only one i've ever been with. at least this way." you rolled your hips, picking up momentum. the pace was a little messy, but carlos didn't mind.
he didn't mind at all, anything to make you happy. he held onto you and felt the heat rise further in his face. the blush almost stung. your cunt felt like euphoria, you were perfect. he said, "if i could give you my virginity, i would." he smiled at you, blush high in his cheeks.
you smacked his chest playfully, "ah, you flirt. it's a stupid construct anyway. but, if it's anything." you moved a little faster, "i would've happily taken your virginity."
he chuckled and smacked your ass, "i knew you were going to say that." and then took you by the face with one hand and pressed hot kisses against your heated face. you moaned a little bit as you continued to ride him.
the pleasure soon became overwhelming for the both of you. you moaned a little louder, your back arched a little further and the kissed became heavier. the pleasure was felt between you two are you really worked your hips against him. you held onto him tightly and grit your teeth as you rode him. the pleasure throbbed in your brain as with a few more quick thrusts you finished, which made you moan loudly and tense up.
you kissed him while he held onto your hips. he worked your cock in the areas that made you squirm further. it was painfully hot for the both of you, the two of you made out deeply as his hands gripped you tightly. he yearned for your closeness and it didn't take long before his thrusts became harder and faster, and with that he came inside of you as he pressed a hot kiss against your lips.
you both slowed to a stop and the kisses continued. you ended up on your back with him on top of you. his cock hard once more and right up against your soaked cunt.
"i don't think your father would mind if you went back to your hotel a little late?" he suggested, his hands braced on either side of you. his smile was intoxicating.
you reached up to him, like you were reaching for the sun and pulled your lover close. you kissed him on the lips then said, "i guess. but you better make me finish first." and carlos just beamed at you <3
#bunny writes#the bakery#reader insert#formula one imagine#formula one smut#formula 1#formula one fanfiction#f1 smut#f1 x reader#carlos sainz x reader#carlos sainz jr x reader#carlos sainz 55#carlos sainz#carlos sainz jr smut#carlos sainz smut#carlos sainz jr x you#cs55 x you#cs55 smut#cs55 imagine#cs55 x reader#cs55 fic#cs55
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I'm all yours
Genre: hurt/comfort, fluff, very domestic fluff.
Pairing: Mingyu x gn!reader.
Warnings: Reader is ill, barely proofread, Mingyu husband material.
- Yuin's note: I forgot I'm self-aware and wrote the most delulu and self-indulgent thing I'd ever write. An ode to my fellow carats who are also getting through sickness.
You didn’t hear the door open, the cheerful voice of Mingyu was the only thing perceptible beyond the pain you were feeling, and even thought it supposed to make you happy, it was difficult to smile. It was much easier to rest your head on his shoulder, wrap your arms around his waist with the little strength you could have, and brush your lips against his neck with a gentle kiss.
“I'm here,” Mingyu responded by hugging you gently, your body trembled slightly and felt cold to the touch. “How was your day?”
“Bad…” you whispered, your voice breaking. “It’s been… the worst…”
The words got stuck in your throat and your mind went blank; the physical pain was so strong it prevented you from speaking. You felt helpless—why was it so hard to just say that your ear hurt? Or was that really all that was bothering you?
Your trembling hands clung to Mingyu's sweater in a hug so tight it almost hurt, while you hid your face in his chest to keep him from seeing your eyes fill with tears. But what started as a weak sob soon turned into an intense wail, impossible to ignore.
“Hey, y/n,” Mingyu patted your back to try to get your attention, but the more he tried to soothe you, the more futile it became.
“I'm sorry,” you whispered between sobs. “… I’ve felt so … alone.”
Mingyu patiently led you to the sofa, where you both sat down. Seeing you cry so inconsolably broke his heart; hearing your trembling, fragile voice expressing all sorts of sad things… It seemed so unfair that only you were going through it.
However, watching you catch your breath little by little was quite comforting.
You told him how your day had gone while he held one of your hands and gently stroked your cheek with the other. Physically, you felt terrible, but the contact of his skin against yours made everything a little more bearable, as if the pain were not that important…
“My neck hurts all over,” you indicated where it hurt with your finger, and he frowned, as if he somehow understood what you were describing. “I don’t think the medicine is helping…”
“This is the second time this year…” Mingyu sighed, frustrated. “Maybe you should change your treatment.”
“Again?” you complained. More than stressed, you were starting to feel depressed. “I’ve lost count of how many pills I’ve taken…”
The truth was he didn’t quite know what to say; he was worried, his mind a jumble of questions. All he could do was hugging you and that was all you needed in that moment.
You had spent the day alone while he was out at work, feeling upset and very sad, but it was better to take the moment to forget a little about all the negative thoughts attacking your mind.
Mingyu seemed to be the only remedy at that moment, and you clung tenaciously to that.
“Tomorrow we’ll talk to the doctor,” Mingyu pulled away a little and patted your hair. “For now, I'm all yours. Tell me what you want and I'll do it.”
You lowered your gaze shyly, wondering whether to say what was on your mind, but you felt encouraged by hearing Mingyu’s laughter. He knew you so well; there was nothing you could hide from him.
“What do you want for dinner?” His face was only a few centimeters from yours, and you started to feel a bit shyer.
“Pizza…?” you lifted your face slightly, giving him puppy eyes.
“Weren’t you on a diet?” Mingyu raised an eyebrow, but your pouty face was more convincing than him. “Alright, but only this time.”
About twenty minutes later the doorbell rang, announcing the delivery. You both sat down at the dining table and ate together while he told you about his day at work, chatting and laughing as if you hadn’t seen each other in ages.
Having Mingyu by your side was one of the best things that had ever happened to you because no matter how terrible the day had been or how sad it was to be ill; you could always have his company and comfort at the end of the day, and that made even the bad things worth it.
After dinner, you both sat on the living room couch to watch a movie, a warm blanket covering you as you searched for something to watch. Suddenly, he stopped what he was doing to focus all his attention on you.
“y/n, how do you feel now?” he tilted his head slightly while smiling.
“Better,” you replied, a little livelier.
“If you’re okay, I’m okay,” he turned his gaze back to the TV screen, holding the remote as he started scrolling through the channels. “Let me know if there’s anything you want to watch.”
“Actually…” You took the remote and turned off the TV. A surprised Mingyu was ready to object and defend himself, but he froze when he felt your head resting in the nook of his neck, one of your legs wrapped around his. “… I just want to hear you.”
“Shall I tell you about when I almost set the kitchen on fire because I was drunk?” Mingyu said casually, his hand resting on your waist.
“I was there, remember?” It sounded more like a tragicomedy than anything else. “The worst ramen you ever made.”
You both laughed softly; you were exhausted, and the night grew heavier while the dim light from a nearby lamp made everything feel more intimate, cozier.
“I love your voice,” you said lazily, your body nearly collapsing on top of him. “Sing for me, Gyu.”
In the silence of the living room, under the warm blanket, you finally managed to rest peacefully without thinking about the pain that tormented you. In the distance, you could hear his voice, tired yet charming at the same time, as you closed your eyes, feeling the warm beats of his heart against yours.
#seventeen#seventeen fluff#seventeen fanfic#seventeen fic#seventeen x reader#seventeen x y/n#svt#svt fluff#svt fanfic#svt fic#svt x reader#svt x y/n#kim mingyu#svt mingyu#seventeen mingyu#mingyu fluff#mingyu fanfic#mingyu x y/n#mingyu x reader#seventeen carat
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Never in my wildest dreams did I think we’d end up here post-canon.
We had three seasons of Katsuki being various shades of angry and two where his cute aggression was in overdrive and any real feelings he had were buried beneath his guilt, inferiority, and rage.
So many bkdk fics from this era had them in a situationship of some kind largely because Katsuki Bakugo was the poster child for emotional constipation. The future of bkdk was often agreed to be this delicious angsty cocktail of yearning and we ate that up. Izuku and Katsuki loving each other but being unable to say it? The tension, the misunderstandings, the regency-esque moments of hands brushing? Bruh. Gorgeous.
And then season six happened and Katsuki apologized, calm, empathetic, validating, and boy did that open up doors for bkdk’s future, but that was followed by season seven where simp!Katsuki really found his sea legs, embraced his new normal and his all-encompassing obsession with Izuku and went LITERALLY RIDE OR DIE for him
Followed later by his return to the manga where everything he did screamed “I’d do anything, break my own bones, sacrifice my own life, my potential, my career, my money, all for him”. Boy came back from the dead and was all-in for Izuku and has never looked back.
We had tsundere!Katsuki down to an art and now we have simp!Katsuki too and whiplash has never in my life made me so happy. We get the best of both worlds. It has never been better to be a bkdk.
#my bkdk playlist is so angsty and full of yearning and I love it#but honestly#that’s not the whole story anymore???#bkdk#bakudeku#mha spoilers
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