#without fucking up her health or other classes

[ent-is-undecisive]

The thing i want most in the world (1) is to take a nap rn and the thing i absolutely cannot do, is take a nap.

(1) outside of my work magically being done

[finnslay]

I'm fucking failing science.

The 2 "ungraded" things are done and I didn't get a lab report in cuz DID was flipping out and the kid frontijgndidnt know what the fuck that was so we got an 18. It's a 57 now. Fuck this.

(Yap in tags)

[nexus-nebulae]

another childhood bucket list item obtained: i finally have a snuggie

[reneesghostinthelivingroom]

Hi I’ve been thinking about this request for poly!plastics for a while now. So basically everyone knows that Regina gets angry and when she does people just don’t part ways with her. However, y/n is worse especially when she doesn’t get her full sleep which she didn’t get bc Gretchen and Karen were up and loud. (Y/n would never fault them bc she just loves them so much and their quirks). So throughout the school day, everyone has been getting on Y/n nerves like making comments about her girls etc. at lunch time, cady decided to make a “joke” about Karen being dumb, Regina being a bitch, etc and Y/n just explodes. Maybe heavy make out sess or smut after to calm Y/n down.

Slow Boil

|| Poly!plastics x fem!reader

(I myself am poly)

|| Warnings: swearing, reader almost punches Cady, reader has an attitude, little make out session at the end but nothing overly detailed or anything

|| Summary: reader doesn't get enough sleep, the next day people get on her nerves and it pushes her to a boiling point where she snaps at Cady for insulting her girls.

Requests open!

~~~

To say you were exhausted would be an understatement. You barely got any sleep the night before with Gretchen and Karen being up all night giggling and gossiping. How Regina slept through them... you didn't know, but God you were envious of her sleeping abilities. Though you would never blame or get mad at Gretchen and Karen. You would however be frustrated at yourself for not falling asleep sooner.

The day seemed to drag on. As if seconds were really minutes and minutes were hours. Classes taking too long to complete. In Health & Fitness you just gave up and fell asleep, head rested on your desk with one arm folded around it and other stretched out in front of you. Cady glanced at you and raised an eyebrow.

The bell woke you from your sleep and you groaned, grabbing your bag and slinging it over your shoulder. At least it was lunch. You'd get to see your girlfriends.

"Sleeping beauty rises." Mr. Carr comments, getting a few laughs from some kids in the back. You roll your eyes at him.

"I bet you thought that was clever. Do everyone a favour and keep your damn puns to yourself." Mr. Carr seemed taken aback by your attitude, usually you didn't have one. You were known for being kind and laid back. Not snappy and agitated. For that reason, he decides to let it go. Not without giving you a small warning lecture first. It certainly didn't make your mood any better.

You left the class, a sharp (sleep filled) glare glossing over your eyes as you walk through the halls. Some conversations catching your attention, people seemed to be talking about your girlfriends a lot lately. The things they were saying weren't always positive and that just did nothing to improve your mood. One voice in particular catches your attention. Cady.

You snapped your head in her direction, seeing her chatting with those art freaks Janis and Damien.

"Honestly, Karen's gotta be the dumbest person I've ever met. When I went to Regina's house Regina told Karen she would help her with her eyebrows and Karen asked if she could still have two." Cady talked, Damien and Janis laughed. You could feel your blood boiling," Speaking of Regina, don't even get me started on her. She is such a bi-"

"The next word out of your mouth better fucking be "bi icon" or I swear to every God that's listening..!" You yelled, taking a step towards Cady who froze in place. Damien and Janis exchanged a look.

"Y-Y/N, I didn't think-" You cut Cady off.

"Clearly! What the hell, Cady?! They've been nothing but nice- well, to your face- and this how you repay them?" You were livid. The news about you fighting with Cady quickly spread throughout the school, eventually reaching your girlfriends who sprang into action. Hoping to stop things before it escalated.

Regina got there first and put herself between you and Cady right as you had been about to strike. You pause the moment you see Regina and your arm falls to your side. Gretchen and Karen link their arms around yours and keep you back while Regina sighs.

"Baby, take a breath for me." Regina says, you ignore her and look at Cady. She snaps her fingers in your face," Don't look at her. Look at me."

You listen. Reluctantly.

"Breathe." Regina urges, hand resting on your shoulder. When that doesn't work she grabs you by your wrist and pulls you to the bathroom, Gretchen and Karen quickly following behind.

Once there, they all turn and face you.

"What was all that about?" Gretchen asks.

"Cady was being a total bitch." You mutter, arms folded across your chest.

"You mean like Cady Heron?" Karen looks confused.

"No, KD Mac and Cheese." You snap, then realize who you just snapped at. Regina narrows her eyes at you. Karen frowned and you relaxed your shoulders.

"I'm sorry... I just- didn't get any sleep last night and my patience has been pushed to the edge today because of it..." You admit in a mumble, hand covering your face as you tilted your head down. You felt bad.

Gretchen took a step towards you and wrapped her arms around your shoulders, pulling you into her side as she moves her hand away from your face. Giving you a deep, soft kiss that you immediately melt into. Hands resting gently around Gretchen to pull her closer. You could feel as your body finally relaxed. Whatever anger you had being washed away.

She broke the kiss and rested her hand to your cheek," Better?"

"I could maybe use a couple more kisses..." You smile sheepishly, looking over at Regina and Karen. Your girlfriends laugh softly and the tension in the room seems to fade.

[chrisbesitos]

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀masterlist. 𔘓

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀🎧 – fluff | 🍁 – angst | 🎃 – smut.

꩜ chris sturniolo.

[ fanfics ]

someone older. [🎧🎃]

Y/N is a divorced mom who met Chris at a beach and ended up in a date with him. But he's nine years younger than she.

[ blurbs ]

chris accidentally reveals that they're expecting a baby on a twitch live. [🎧]

[ younger!reader series ]

[ fanfics ]

sweet relief. [🎧🍁🎃]

Chris dates a girl who's two years younger than he. Chris is 21 and the reader is 19.

this is me trying. [🍁🎧]

Y/N has being struggling with stress because of the university and chris helps her.

emails i can't send. [🍁🎧]

Y/N never had a healthy family and this still affect her.

one day at a time. [🍁]

Pumpkin is your emotional support animal, you call your boyfriend Chris after didn't find her. Unfortunately, you found her in a bad state.

[ blurbs ]

chris helps his girlfriend when she feels displaced with his friends. [🍁🎧]

little bear. [🎧]

a broken ankle, karma rules. [🍁]

insecurities. [🎧🍁]

chris teaching his girlfriend how to play Fortnite. [🎧]

bad moody. [🎧]

getting caught. [🎧]

she is beauty we are world class. [🎧🍁]

trick or treat? [🎧]

enough for you. [🎧🍁]

chris attacking y/n with kisses. [🎧]

chris loves y/n and mini pizza. [🎧]

it made me think of you. [🎧]

younger!reader meeting chris’ parents for the first time. [🎧]

[ dealer!chris series ]

[ fanfics ]

ballerina & dealer. [🎃]

You meet chris at a party and he fucks you in your ballet costumes.

scared of storms. [🍁🎧]

Storms scare you and you are embarrassed to tell chris about this.

you're in love. [🎧🍁]

Chris helps you when things get harder and you can't stop practicing your choreography for the recital.

dangerous. [🍁]

Dealer!Chris goes to see Ballerina!Reader at her concert. After her mother criticizes her dance, Chris protects her, but they end up arguing because Ballerina!Reader calls him a friend.

dangerous. [🍁🎧]

After three weeks, Ballerina!Reader and Dealer!Chris finally sees each other again, but now chris needs to do everything right, or else he'll lose you forever.

[ blurbs ]

ballerina!reader getting high without dealer!chris. [🎧]

[ hc's and moodboard ]

ballerina & dealer headcannons. [🎧🍁🎃]

ballerina & dealer moodboards.

꩜ matt sturniolo.

[ fanfics ]

king of everything. [🎧]

Y/N is sick and Matt wants to take care of her, but she keep trying to push him away.

little things. [🎧🍁]

After a bad day at work, you come home crying and Matt stops everything to take care of you.

[ blurbs ]

hold me while i cry. [🎧🍁]

꩜ madison beer.

[ fanfics ]

show me (how i feel in love with you). [🎧🍁🎃]

How Y/N and Madison fall in love with each other.

nothing matters but you. [🎧🍁]

Madison takes off her girlfriend while she's sick.

soft launch. [🎧]

Y/N have been in a comfortable and private relationship, but after being seen together they decided to do a soft launch.

aftercare. [🎃🎧]

Madison taking care of Y/N after sex.

make you mine. [🎃]

Y/N have been dealing with a bad mental health, because of the college and work. Madison wants to take care of her. Plus she never had a sexual experience before and Madison wants to make her first time special.

[ blurbs ]

madison taking care of Y/N when she have bad cramps. [🎧]

madison meeting your baby daughter for the first time. [🎧]

Y/N's daughter calls Madison mom for the first time. [🎧]

[ hc's and moodboard ]

madison beer headcannons. [🎧]

Madison date Y/N and she's an actress.

[levis-poison-is-my-medicine]

The Will

(The Tea Lovers Pt. 4)

A Levi x reader fanfic (Flufftober 2024)

Crossposted from AO3

Levi accidently finds your will.

A/n: Heyy, I'm back with a short update! Pour yourself some tea and enjoy!

tags: fluff and humor, silly and sweet, tea-obsessed fem!reader with their head in the clouds (word count: 0.96k)

(Part one) / (Levi x reader Masterlist)

"Come in", Erwin said, answering the knock on his office door without looking up from his paperwork. He didn't have to. It was well past midnight, and there was only one other person who would possibly be working at this hour.

Levi entered without a word of greeting, swiftly making his way towards Erwin's desk. He was only there to drop off some documents Erwin had wanted to have signed, then he'd head to bed to finally get some well-earned rest, the first he'd allow himself in two days.

"Here," he said curtly and set down the pile of papers atop another tower-like stack that was already swaying dangerously, making Erwin let out a weary sigh.

Levi was already on his way back to the door when he stopped dead in his tracks. Frowning, he turned around and strode back to the desk, going through the stack of papers until he got to the one that had been on top before. His eyes narrowed when he found it. He had not been mistaken. It had your name on it.

"What are you doing?" Erwin asked, quite baffled by Levi's unusual behavior as he watched him pull the document out from between the others.

Levi didn't answer, studying it with knitted brows. It was barely legible as it was written in a messy scrawl with tiny letters.

"What the fuck is this?" he asked finally, an edge to his voice.

"If you show me then I might be able to give you an answer," Erwin said calmly, raising a quizzical eyebrow at him.

Levi shoved the document into the commander's face.

"Well," Erwin said after giving it a quick once-over, "It's her will, exactly how it says in the title."

Levi clicked his tongue in annoyance. "I can see that, but why would she need a will?" It wasn't like you to plan ahead like that.

"Don't worry, she's in perfect health if that's what you are wondering. She simply wanted matters to be settled."

"Didn't she give you a reason?" Levi asked impatiently, clearly still irritated.

"She didn't say, but I assume the catalyst to be the events on the last expedition. Two people on her squad died." Erwin dragged a hand over his tired features. "She asked me to be her personal representative since she doesn't have any family."

He hesitated, then sighed. "To be perfectly honest, I shouldn't even be talking to you about this. Usually these kind of affairs are confidential. However, I presume I could make an exception since you are mentioned in it."

"I am?" Levi asked, bewildered. He practically ripped the document out of the commanders hands, not waiting for an answer.

Erwin watched with an amused expression as Levi skimmed over the first page, then flipped to the second.

There it was. It seemed you had actually made an effort to keep your handwriting neat and tidy on this paragraph because unlike before, he had no trouble deciphering what it said this time.

First beneficiary: Levi Ackerman I leave all my precious tea to Captain Levi because he is the only one with a taste distinguished enough to truly appreciate its magnificence. Every expert would attest to the outstanding quality of my vast collection, containing only the finest and rarest of leaves with the highest grade. All of these top-notch attributes make this assortment of first-class tea my most valuable possession, so I can't rest in peace without making sure that it will be left in the expert hands of my fellow tea lover Levi.

Levi snorted at your choice of words. There was no denying that you had written this. Even when writing, it was impossible for you to keep it short.

You continued: I will further entrust him with all of my prized tea sets, including teapots, cups and saucers. Needless to say, they are made of the finest porcelain this world has to offer, making them unparalleled in both elegance and beauty. It's imperative that he should have them, because only with the right tea service can one enjoy the exquisite tea to the fullest.

I will also leave him my beautiful tea canisters and all of my tea utensils, including my infusers and sieves, spoons, tea warmers and anything tea-related I might have forgotten to mention.

Levi's part of the will ended here, but he couldn't help but keep reading. It didn't escape his notice that the next parts were significantly shorter with much sloppier handwriting. "Well obviously. It's not about tea anymore," he muttered as he scanned the next paragraph.

Second beneficiary: Erwin Smith The commander shall get all my good pens and pencils because he has to write a lot. I have some really expensive ones and I know he will take good care of them.

Third beneficiary: Hange Zoe My titan sketchbook with all my notes on them goes to my bestie Hange. I know they've been eyeing it for a while now, so there. They will also get all my science books, they may not need them but I don't think anybody else wants them.

Fourth beneficiary: Petra Ral I bequeath all of my clothes to Petra, as we've often borrowed each other's stuff so I know they will fit her. She will also get all my drawings of a certain someone. (She'll know which ones.)

Levi's eyebrows instantly shot up at the last part. It was pretty clear who it was about, and he didn't like it one bit. The way you had intentionally kept it vague only served to make him more suspicious.

"I told her not to do that anymore," he grumbled, putting the will back on the desk and marching to the door. "Where is she hiding that shit?"

He was about to find out.

Tag list: @thechaoticarchivist, @mmm-alhaitham, @nironasaran, @leviiheichou, @huffleruffplant, @shutupp1, @iifrui

Click here for part 5

[inkskinned]

im having a particularly terrible night with urges and imagery that i dont know how to handle. i gave in to some things. held back on some others. but im barely holding on, dear internet stranger.

you do not owe me your time or your words.. but if you could write some hope into existence for me.. i would be unendingly grateful to you.

please. tell me how you do it. tell me how you survive. because im not so sure i can get through the fifteen days it'll take to get to my seventeenth birthday.

could you please give me something to place my faith in? i dont think the universe is watching out for me anymore.

i don't usually answer these, because i am not a professional, and you deserve professional help. when i was 17 i was terrified of the idea of professional help, because my household was extremely unsafe, and made it clear that if i ever chose to get help, i would be punished for it.

i hope this is not your case. i hope that you can call someone, and they can take you where you should go.

but i will give you the advice that i wish i got, when i couldn't get help at 17, when i was so bad that years later, i literally don't-know-how-i-survived it: what you want is peace, not death. your brain is sick. it has romanticized an ending where there are no consequences. where effort isn't necessary. where you can just... forget.

you want peace. that is a normal, human thing to want. maybe it feels more like you want quiet. or just... to take a break for a second.

here is what i will say: to end yourself means you never get to experience what it's like to actually be happy. i thought i knew what it was like, and i was bitter about it. i'd say - i've been happy, it's not worth it, because i didn't know what i was missing. i thought that happiness meant having a partner or having a job or money or a college degree. it sounded like effort. it sounded like something that had to happen to me.

for the first time in my life, just this week, i was able to go to a concert and just-enjoy-it. no liquor, no drugs. just stomping my feet and getting caught up in it. i didn't feel nervous or self-conscious or overwhelmed. i just had a good time. these days have a lot of these firsts for me - it is the first time i can eat cake without crying. it is the first time i can be around an exacto blade without supervision. it is the first time i have too many people to call when i am crying.

i can't tell you where you'll run into happiness, only that, for me, it started once i was out of that fucking house. it started once i figured out where the pain was coming from. once i figured out that i was not possessed, something medical was wrong with me. that i am not stupid or lazy, i have depression and adhd. the first few years were difficult. at 19, during my efforts to recover, i actually got worse by a considerable margin. and then, with time and patience - i got better.

happiness doesn't feel like what you think it will. in movies it's so golden and all-encompassing. but it doesn't fly into your hands when you buy your first car nor does it arrive in the arms of a partner nor does it require passing your classes. happiness came to me on a tuesday in the form of a red-winged blackbird, and i looked at her, and she looked at me, and i said - oh. the whole world suddenly filled itself in with color. like i had been forever-asleep. like every corner of every room was suddenly glistening.

it ended quickly, back then. it just stopped in to check in on me. but it was enough - this thing i had never experienced, but that i knew (logically) could happen. before that, i was only staying because it would make my mom sad if i died. that was my only reason. and then the happiness came, so strange and brilliant and lovely that for years i couldn't even look at it directly.

these days, things are so different. life is so much easier. i don't wish for death because so much of what i have is already at peace. my boss understands when i need a mental health day. people in general are less prone to high school drama. entire communities hold my hand and have my number. i have a car and a dog and a little apartment garden and candles on all available surfaces and today i bought myself a little cake just-to-celebrate-nothing. my body is my own and we are both dancing.

there are so many things i've gotten to taste in the last 10 years. i know, for you, that is an eon, because it's more than half of your life. but if it helps? in the 5 years between 17-21: i filled myself with laughter and love. i got to be a lead in a ballet and got my first tattoo and then my second and pierced my ears the way i'd wanted to (one of them professionally the other over a hot stove with a potato) and i discovered hozier is my favorite singer (i know. he was new back then) and i got my first real job and my first real paycheck and i hadn't ever been seen as smart but then i started to actually treat my adhd as a condition rather than a burden and people started saying you're like the smartest person in the room and my best friend met her husband who i will one day stand next to as maid of honor when he is her groom and i got to help people and make a stupid blog called "inkskinned" and find out that writing is actually my passion and that maybe i'm actually kind of good at it if i just practice and i got to meet my parents' dog (his name is kaiju) and i slept on couches and kissed people and tried new things and learned how to breathe without feeling my chest tighten and that peace is here, on this planet, that peace echoes everywhere, it is in my hair and my homework and my houseplants, it is quiet and divine and mine because i fought for it and i built it and yes i lost hair over it but holy shit the whole world feels like it is shifted through a sunbeam

recently someone asked me if i could go back in time to 6th grade, with all the knowledge i have now, would i? and without thinking, i barked absolutely not. i know i should say it's because i wouldn't want to risk losing any of this stuff - but really it's because i would never survive being a teenager again. it sounds incredibly lame and impossible, fake - but being a teenager was the hardest thing i ever did. i had no voice, no control, only fear and hatred.

but i did survive it. nothing about me is special. nothing about me is stronger than you or better prepared or more efficient. i didn't survive it perfectly. i made a lot of mistakes and lost a lot of friends and harmed myself in ways that i'm still recovering from. but i did survive it. and there is a part of me looking at you in the past and saying - i'm you in the future.

and holy shit. every day. every goddamn day i'm glad we survived to see the rest of it. because you hit 18 and everything changes. like, everything. and holy shit, it is infinitely worth it.

[inkstainedheartbeats]

Part three of this

It’s three days after the negative pregnancy test. Three days of Steve practically tiptoeing around their apartment. And Eddie knows that it’s not personal. That Steve doesn’t even realize how soft and meek he’s gotten. Like a solid seventy-five percent of Hawkins his parents were both Betas. He knows that things weren’t shiny and happy in the Harrington household. That habits are hard to break. Look at him and his food hiding habits he still has even after living with the god amongst men that is his Uncle.

Robin knows. Robin knew the moment that Eddie called to tell her she needed to find another ride in to work. The Beta woman hasn’t left Steve’s side. Stuck to him like a limpet.

They’re sitting at the table. Steve across from Eddie, their feet touching, with Robin resting her head on Steve’s shoulder. Breakfast is growing cold in front of them.

“You said some of it was me,” Steve starts off before cutting himself off. He takes a big bite out of his eggs. Robin makes an encouraging sound from next to him.

“Look, I slept through most of health class. But when we got serious I went to Uncle Wayne.”

Admitting this gets him small smiles, Robin even reaches a hand over to place on his. He knows she’ll always take Steve’s side, that to love one means to love the other so this act of kindness is… it makes him brave.

“One of the reasons that Alphas don’t tend to bare children isn’t just society being fucking sexist. It’s because Alphas produce a hormone that neither of the other secondaries can. And like, normally it doesn’t matter. But it makes pregnancies harder on Alphas. Wayne gave me all sorts of pamphlets on Alpha health, got me in contact with an Alpha ex of his.”

He’s squeezing Robin’s hand.

“I can’t loose you, Steve. I know we’re waiting to Mark each other, I understand why we’re waiting but even without the physical evidence of it, you are my Mate. And if I lost you?”

It was the threat of losing Steve to Vecna that had him breaking the control the bastard had on him. It was the sight of Steve bleeding yet again, standing in front of El, head tilted back like Chrissy’s that had him snapping. Steve was it for him. His heart knew it before his head did and he knows Steve is much the same. He saw proof of it in how skinny Steve was. How rumpled and ill kept he was.

“I am open to children. I would love to see you round and waddling with my pups inside you, Steve, but I am a coward.”

“You’re not. You’re not a coward, Eds.”

Steve’s pushed back his chair from the table. Clambered up onto his lap. Wide hands are buried deep in his hair. They’re not kissing, not yet. Not with Robin in the room. Because kissing like this never stays kissing and while Steve tells her everything she doesn’t want a front row seat to it all.

Steve pours out his own fears. Of his father. Of his mother who tried but still failed in the grand scheme of things. His health.

“I’ve had so many concussions, Eds. Literal brain damage that will some day come and bite me in the ass.”

They’re honest with each other with Robin as their witness. It feels like confession. It feels like marriage. Like a divine oath.

“You make me feel brave, Eds. I’m not scared of this with you at my side.”

“Lady Buckley, might I advise you to flee this luxurious castle for… a couple of hours? I need to show my King just how brave he makes me feel.”

———/———/———/———/———/——

He’s still scared shitless when they test again. It’s been six months and Eddie has fucked Steve on nearly every available surface at every opportunity he can. His stomach rolls and breakfast threatens to make a reappearance. But Steve is in his lap while they sit in the tub.

He’s not quite sure why they have to be in here but something about bathrooms makes Steve feels safe so this is where he sits. He squeezes Steve tight against him as they wait for time to move on by. When the scent of joy fills the bathroom he laughs.

“Thank fuck,” he breathes out.

“Yeah, thank fuck,” Steve echos.

And if they fuck like rabbits in that tub no one has to know.

———/———/———/———/———/——

Hope you don’t mind me tagging you in the resolution @xxbottlecapx

[pocket-watcher]

“Well I need someone to test it.”

Having a best friend who ran a potion shop was not the advantage you’d originally thought it was.

Some friends asked you to move furniture, others asked you to stand guard whilst you performed summoning rituals…

And some asked you to blindly try their newest potion without telling you what the potion was even supposed to do.

“No. No way in hell, Julia. Get your apprentice to do it.”

“He’s out collecting ingredients and who knows when he’ll be back. Come on, just a little taste! Mmmm… yummy!”

“And you talking to me like a child is supposed to entice me? I said no.”

The cauldron bubbled away. It was a sickly pink. You felt yourself sweating just looking at it.

“…free health potions and invisibility potions. For a month.” She cocked her head confidently.

“…fine.” You snatched the ladle from her and took a sip, trying to ignore the devious smile on her face.

“Lovely! Now let’s sit you down here.” She tipped an hour class. “It shouldn’t take too long to kick in.

“Why can’t you just tell me what’s supposed to happen?”

“Because we need to make sure it works and you’re not being influence by how you think you’re supposed to feel.”

“Uh… okay.” You twiddled your thumbs for a few minutes. At one point you’d thought you felt too hot but then it turns out that was just you panicking for a moment. It soon passed.

“You really don’t feel anything at all?” She’d asked. Julia had poked and prodded but, nope, you felt as… well, not normal. You never really felt normal. But you’d felt nothing out of the ordinary for yourself yet.

“Sorry, Jules, nothing.”

She grabbed either side of your face and pulled you close to her. You turned red.

“Really? No urge to… do anything right now?”

You thought about it. Julia was attractive, sure. And the sudden closeness did stir something within you. But she was your best friend, so, no. You weren’t about to throw that away on a stupid comment.

“Uh, nope?”

“Kiss me.”

You jumped back.

“W-What?!” You spluttered. “Why would I do that!”

“Because I fed you a love potion! You’re supposed to be head over heels for someone by now…”

Love potion?! Oh no… but, you didn’t feel anything did you? At least, no more than normal…

“You fed me a love potion. God, you’re so fucking lucky that it didn’t wo-“

The bell rang lightly as the door opened.

Shit.

In walked Julia’s assistant. What was his name again? Who cared, to be honest. His bouncing black curls and his sparking eyes and his-

Focus.

Was it hot in here? I felt my arousal growing already.

“Sorry it took me so long!” He laughed, placing down his shopping bags. “I got sidetracked.”

His voice melted into my mind. Why should he apologise to us? He did nothing wrong.

“Oh, hi there! Mind giving me a hand with these?”

Julia dismissively waved her hand. The bitch. “That’s what I pay you for. Leave him, he can do it himself.”

But. I couldn’t. I felt like he could ask anything of me and I would do it. I had to do it.

I scooped up a bag from him. I felt the pleasure of obedience filling my whole body.

“O-oh, thanks!” His smile beamed into me and it was like he was the only thing I could see.

Julia looked between myself and him. A lightbulb went off in her head.

“Ah… I see. How are you feeling now?” She grabbed her quill ready to take notes.

“I feel great.”

It was the truth. How could I not feel great when he looked at me like that. When he was about to give me another order.

“…Are you two testing potions?” He asked, putting down the bag. He gestured for me to hand mine to him. I eagerly obliged. His fingers brushed against mine as I did so.

“Yes we are.” Julia smiled wickedly. “Oh, what’s that? You want a kiss?”

He choked slightly, trying to play it off as a cough. “W-what? A kiss? What are you- oh no…“

But it was too late. I was already kissing him.

The contact made me drunk. Dizzy. I needed more more more-

My hands found their way to pulling him closer. Deeper.

His squeaks of surprise were delicious. His moans even more so.

“Well, I’ve got all my notes. Come find me when this wears off, okay?”

By the time Julia closed the door behind her I was already on top of him.

[bullet-prooflove]

Pause: Mitch Keller x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @dolphs-darling @Watermeezer @queenslandlover-93 @redpool

Companion piece to:

Her Name Was Lola - You meet Mitch's wife.

Lola becomes the third wheel in your relationship. There’s been a war brewing between the two of you since she turned up in Tulsa, a silent one that’s waged every night she steps into the casino and sits herself at the bar.

“Why haven’t you banned her?” You ask, furiously wiping down the counter and Mitch sighs as he adjusts his cap.

“Because Sunny, you catch more flies with honey than vinegar.” Mitch explained and you’d clenched your jaw so you didn’t bite back with something truly scathing.

You understand the sentiment behind it, Mitch wants that divorce and he wants it as soon as possible but having Lola here, it’s detrimental to your mental health. Part of you wants to claw her damn eyes out and the other part wants to sob, because the evidence of the promise that Mitch broke it’s staring you right in the face, wearing his class ring.

The only solace is those nights when you’re on stage. You sit up there strumming a tune,  singing your heart out and for a moment Mitch’s entire attention it’s focused on you. You can’t express how good that feels, to be the centre of his world again, the only woman he has eyes for. It’s gone the instant you step off because he’s back to Lola, pleading his case.

“I feel like we’re drifting apart a little.” You say to him later that night when everyone else is gone and the two of you are putting away the glasses. “I feel like you don’t see me anymore.”

“That’s not true, Sunny girl.” He sighs as he places his hand on the bar. “I just want this so badly.”

“Well maybe don’t.” You say, your fingertips hooking on the loops of his jeans and drawing him taut against you. “Maybe just enjoy the time we have together, without her and wait the year it takes.”

“Are you saying you don’t want to marry me?” He asks as he looks into your eyes and you can see the hurt reflected in them as your palms come to rest on his chest.

“I’m just saying put it on pause for now.” You tell him.

“Pause.” He repeats, his hands clasping yours to his heart. “We’ve been on pause before and it damn near ruined us. I want to move forward, I want to marry you-”

“I want that too but this situation, it’s not good for us.” You whisper as his forehead comes to rest upon yours. “Mitch, I can’t…”

Your voice breaks and he closes his eyes, his nose bumping lightly against yours.

“Sunny.” He says firmly. “We are almost at the finish line.”

“No Mitch, you’re almost at the finished line.” You say pushing him away. “I fell behind ten miles ago but you’ve just been too focused on the goal to notice.”

“Sunny…” He begins but you’re already drawing away from him.

“I have to go.” You say, picking up your guitar case. “I can’t be here right now.”

You leave then and Mitch, he lets you because he knows better than to follow you when you get that resigned tone in your voice. When he gets home that night the lights are off and there’s no trace of you, he realises there’s clothes missing, the overnight bag you usually take on tour.

It’s happening again, he realises. You’re leaving him because Mitch, he just doesn’t fucking listen. He hasn’t been hearing what you’ve been trying to say to him for weeks, you can’t cope with Lola being in his life, you can’t stand to see another woman with his ring on her finger.

You pick up when he calls, he hears the sound of traffic in the background and he knows you’ve already left Tulsa.

“Where you headed?” He asks despondently as he leans back against the door frame of the bedroom, his gaze fixed on the bed he's sleeping alone in tonight.

“Dallas.” You say softly. “There’s a couple of places down there that will give me a gig. Probably Houston after that, Memphis, Nashville.”

It feels like you’ve plunged a knife into his chest. With each stop you get further away from him and Mitch isn’t sure that you’ll ever come back.

“Will you come home Sunny?” He pleads, his voice breaking as he says the words “Please?”

“No Mitch.” You say, and he hears the resolution in your voice. “No, I can’t.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[iaminsideyourwalls]

Because i have multiple mental illnesses i thought i'd share with you some of my other 10th class/ tf2 character designs concepts.

THE CHARGER (BLU faction)

The BLU counterpart to @gordonfreemanreal 's RED Charger. Name: IJsbrand Class: Offense Pronouns: he/him His whole deal is charging madly at you, getting in your melee to distract you from what you're doing and force you to fight him. Primary is a bayonet rifle. In combat he uses running blades but otherwise uses a wheelchair. This is my first time attempting to draw running blades so i'm sure they're at least a little bad. Reactor's his buddy who knew him before she worked there. Her former neighbor. -angry at fucking everyone -has torn somebody’s throat out with his teeth -has been arrested for throwing billiards balls at teenagers -refuses (justifiably) to speak English -woke up lying on a railroad track without his legs and just crawled to a phone and called a cab

THE MIXOLOGIST

Class: Support Never finished this one. I don't like it anymore! But the idea was you could mix up certain drinks that would give your teammates special abilities at a cost (they would become more drunk with every drink). Health determines alcohol tolerance. Idk i might come back to it but it's still so funny to think about because if tf2 had this mechanic it would fundamentally ruin the game beyond repair.

THE ATTORNEY

Administration The Attorney works with Mann Co to keep the company and its employees out of legal trouble. Her motto is "just listen to me because cops lie and jail sucks"

[anonymous-dentist]

Bleeding Heart Part Five

Part One | Previous Part

-

"Mr. Balanar?"

"Yes?"

"Hi! I'm the nurse at your son's school, and-"

"What!? Is Richarlyson okay? What happened?"

"Well, unfortunately your son did have a bit of an incident this morning. He threw up all over his clothes, and he's running a slight fever. I'm going to have to ask you to pick him up."

"Of course. I'm on my way."

-

Cellbit lets out an anxious breath and slumps into a seat. His foot taps against the floor, his other leg bounces. He wipes his palms on his jeans and flashes a fake smile at the concerned secretary.

It's only been an hour and a half since Pac dropped Richarlyson off at school. Cellbit knows this because he knows Richarlyson's schedule better than Richarlyson does, he knows precisely when school starts, and he knows that Richarlyson has only actually been in class for an hour. The first half hour of his day is a school-provided breakfast.

It's only been an hour and a half, but Richarlyson has somehow developed a fever in that hour and a half. He wasn't sick earlier, obviously, so.

Is his son dying? No, right? He's fine. It might have been the breakfast. Richarlyson complains about it all the time, he hates it.

Maybe Pac just missed the fever. Richarlyson has a habit of not mentioning he's feeling sick until he's ready to be thrown into an ambulance; Cellbit understands, he feels the same way. Hospitals are too... cold.

So it's logical that Richarlyson is sick now. It's logical. Cellbit doesn't need to be worried.

Cellbit pulls out his phone to text Pac an update: 'Waiting in the front office now. Taking Richas home, I'll take care of him'

Pac, of course, wants Richarlyson to go to a doctor. But Pac also knows that nobody in the family can exactly afford a doctor; Bagi is the only one with health insurance, but it doesn't cover anyone but her.

(Pac also knows that Richarlyson can't so much as smell antiseptic wipes without acting out. So him going with Cellbit is probably for the best; nobody else understands just gets it.)

Cellbit doesn't react as the secretary buzzes someone else into the school. He doesn't react as the door opens beside him, and he doesn't react as he hears a small group of people walk into the office muttering amongst themselves. He keeps looking at his phone, mostly so the secretary doesn't feel obligated to try and calm him down.

But:

"Mr. Balanar, hello!"

And, suddenly, he can hear his own heartbeat and nothing else.

Slowly, Cellbit lets out a breath. He smiles, polite, and he places his phone screen-down in his lap. He looks up, and he nods oh so politely.

"Cucurucho," he very politely greets.

In all white stands C.B. Cucurucho, the Federation's 'civilian liaison' and Cellbit's worst enemy. The goddamn bastard.

They're smiling, because of course they fucking are. Their teeth are absolutely blinding- straight and white as a military graveyard.

"What a surprise to see you here!" they exclaim.

They lean closer, hands behind their back, head cocked slightly to the side. "Did you get my email?"

Nobody knows what the 'C.B.' stands for in their name. Nobody knows what their powers are. They're an enigma even down to their appearance: sleek, white hair down to their mid-back straight out of a shampoo commercial; pale skin akin to that of a corpse's; long, sharp nails like claws; and a pair of eyes constantly hidden behind black circular sunglasses. Their suit is sharp, their heels are pointed, and their lipstick is red.

Cellbit hates them.

Behind Cucurucho, their group of Federation employees all go to sign in to the front desk. There's a handful of people in suits and two heroes in goofy outfits who do not look like they want to be there. Newer ones, probably. Less popular than Bluebird, too, or they wouldn't have to be doing school events.

Cellbit nods. Doesn't say anything.

He and Cucurucho have beef. He hates Cucurucho, and Cucurucho doesn't really acknowledge beyond him being Detective Bagi Webber's twin brother. He wants Cucurucho dead, and Cucurucho sends him and Bagi Christmas cards every year. He wants to squeeze the life out of Cucurucho's shitty fucking heart with his own bare hands, and Cucurucho keeps adding him to the Federation promotional email list.

He and Cucurucho have beef.

The group of Feds all filter out of the office and into the hallway beyond, following the secretary to wherever they're supposed to be going, but Cucurucho stays behind. They're tall on their own, but them being in high heels and Cellbit being seated makes them loom above him almost imposingly. Their glasses are so dark that he can see his reflection in them, and he looks so small, somehow.

Cellbit bites back a shiver. Even with a jacket on, he's so cold.

"I hope you consider my offer," Cucurucho says. "I'm sure your camera has been returned to you by the police department by now. There shouldn't be any trouble getting those pictures over to me."

"Just ask Bagi for them," Cellbit politely huffs.

Cucurucho shakes their head. "And take the credit away from you? Come on, Mr. Balanar, who do you think we are? The Federation of Heroes takes pride in its civilian associates and their work. You'll be credited and compensated."

Kill yourself, Cellbit thinks. Fucking die already.

"I'm not interested," he flatly says.

Clicking their tongue disapprovingly, Cucurucho sighs and stands back upright.

"You know," they say, "I made an effort to look through your records before emailing you. It's a shame it never worked out between us, but I do think that a collaboration would work. You have talent, Mr. Balanar. The Federation could easily put it to use."

Cellbit shivers, pulls his coat closed across his chest subconsciously.

He doesn't respond. He just watches as Cucurucho turns to the front desk, flipping their hair back over their shoulder as they go. They sign in.

As they turn to follow their group into the school, Cucurucho pauses to give Cellbit one last look.

"I'll be in touch," they say.

And, with that, they leave.

Cellbit folds over in his chair as soon as they're gone, head falling into his (shaking) hands and shoulders tense and heaving. He can't fucking breathe-

The door to the school opens again, and Cellbit snaps his head up just in time to see the nurse leading a very embarrassed Richarlyson into the office with her hand on his shoulder. His clothes are damp, and his face is visibly shining with sweat.

Immediately, Cellbit is out of his seat and swooping in to pick Richarlyson up. He takes Richarlyson's backpack and slings it over his own shoulder.

"Come on, filho, let's go home," he murmurs.

"Yeah, 'kay," Richarlyson whimpers.

The nurse waves them off with a worried frown.

Richarlyson is so light, he always has been. But today, he seems lighter, somehow. Oh, God, is he dying? That's just what Cellbit needs, a dying son. Great. Great!

As soon as they're on the street and away from the school, though, Richarlyson starts wriggling and begging to be set down.

"What?" Cellbit asks. "No, you're sick, and I'm your dad. Shut up."

"But I'm not!" Richarlyson whines. "I made myself sick! Put me down!"

He kicks and writhes until Cellbit is forced to set him down on the sidewalk. Almost immediately, Richarlyson's face is back to normal. No sweat, no sickness, nothing.

On a hunch, Cellbit unzips Richarlyson's backpack and sees an open notebook in it. With. With a sick Richarlyson drawn inside it.

He narrows his eyes at his son, who just shrugs and puts his hands in his pockets.

"I didn't wanna go to the Junior Heroes presentation," he explains. "Fuck that."

"Oh," Cellbit quietly says.

The Junior Heroes... ugh. Everything about them makes Cellbit's stomach turn uncomfortably. They make him sick, actually. And it's not the kids' faults, but. But what kind of parents actually sign their kids up for what's essentially a war on crime?

Richarlyson jumps up to get his bag back. Cellbit lets him; he faked being sick, he can carry his own shit.

They start walking again, towards the subway that'll take them back to Cellbit's apartment.

"I didn't know they were coming today, or I would've skipped," Richarlyson continues. "I only found out after breakfast, and apparently they're recruiting or something? Today was supposed to be some huge presentation trying to get us to sign up, but, like, nah. Fuck that."

Cellbit nods. "Fair."

It explains why Cucurucho was there, at least. And the two heroes are probably graduates of the Junior Heroes Program.

Cellbit has beef with Cucurucho.

He extends his hand towards Richarlyson, and Richarlyson takes it.

"Come on," he tells his absolute genius of a son. "I'm proud of you for getting out of there. Let's get ice cream."

"What, really?" Richarlyson gasps.

Cellbit smiles at him. "Yeah, 'really'. You basically tricked Cucurucho. That deserves a reward."

Richarlyson cheers, and Cellbit cheers with him. Sure, they look stupid jumping and fist-pumping and shouting in the middle of the street, but if being annoying was a crime, Cellbit would have been arrested years ago. Richarlyson is a kid, he should get to be as annoying as he wants to be. He deserves that much, at least.

"You're my favorite dad ever!" Richarlyson exclaims.

"I'll be sure to tell Pai Felps that you said that," Cellbit teases.

Richarlyson gasps and shakes his head. "Noooooooooooooo, he's my actual favorite, you can't do that!"

"Sure I can. It'll be your punishment for abusing your powers in public."

"But dad!"

"You know the rules, Richas. If I have to follow them, so do you."

Richarlyson groans, but he knows that Cellbit is right. He hates it, but Cellbit is right. Cellbit hates it, but Cellbit is right.

With Richarlyson complaining, they turn away from their subway station and towards the street leading to Richarlyson's favorite ice cream parlor. With any luck, Bad won't be working today, so Cellbit won't have to explain why he's there with his son when he's supposed to be editing and Richarlyson is supposed to be at school.

(As they walk towards the ice cream parlor, Cellbit swears he sees a shadow following them from on top of the nearby buildings.

He flips the shadow off.

Fucking creep.)

--

A/N: Let me know what you think in the tags or in my inbox! I want to hear your theories, thoughts, opinions, everything!

[wandasaura]

…. Maria telling all the other KMP ladies that they can’t fuck R for a week as R’s punishment.

R mostly trying to act like it isn’t bothering her at all and teasing them all (besides Maria 😳)

But just 2 days before her punishment is over, she goes to their apartment knowing M W & N aren’t home bc they should be in class or something.

It’s just Carol home (who is definitely the softest and horniest) and R’s goes prepared to beg Carol to fuck her. Carol knows better than to not listen to Maria so she’s just like “Maria said No”

“She’ll never fucking know.” R yells getting a little frustrated.

“Who will never know?” Maria says coming out of her room eyebrows raised, scaring the shit out of R. 😵‍💫

she’s so desperate and needy, and carols wearing one of those fucking tank tops without a bra and her nipples are just so tempting, really it’s not her fault at all. but she instantly crumbles when maria comes home. like genuinely crying and pleading for it to end, promising to be a good girl for a least a week because everyone knows if she’d said any longer than that it would’ve been a bold face lie. maria’s not usually one to cave, if r has pushed her enough to earn herself a week of no touch, than it’s definitely an earned punishment, but she knows that her girl is having a tough time with classes starting up again and having to balance her own health and wellness and the fate of her future, and when r starts blubbering about just wanting to be close to them and to be good at something, maria breaks but it’s not without an ultimatum. she gets one orgasm, but she has to pick who she gets it from, and everyone else gets to edge her as many times as they want before then. she should’ve just stuck it out and waited the two days because picking who makes her cum is an imposible decision, and if she doesn’t pick either wanda or maria, she knows they’ll have no shame in edging her upwards of ten times each.

[piarelei]

Touch starved

AU where the Navy cares about mental health but in the most annoying way possible.

The Program had Jake noted down as recalcitrant. He couldn’t deny the truth of it. 

In his early career, he would have never believed that the Navy could one day so strongly advocate for mental health. The Program’s agent was staring placidly at him from the other side of his kitchen table, his file between her manicured hands. She was someone who was used to scrutiny and did it in turn without an ounce of shame. 

“I’m afraid we will have to see improvement or the Program will have to ground you. Temporarily, of course.” 

Jake looked away. He had to swallow his first impulse. He was not suited to begging. “I’ve never been a great sleeper, you know. That has nothing to do with the job.” 

She smiled. It didn’t reach her eyes. “You understand that we cannot allow access to such expensive and destructive weapons to someone who is already under duress.” 

Jake clenched his teeth. There was no point in arguing, but it didn’t stop him from trying. “Part of the job is being under duress. I’ve always known how to deal.” 

“We are doing things differently now.” She looked down at the file in her hands. “Well, I see that at least you have been regular with the monitor, despite a rocky start. This is good.”

Jake had to do his best not to sneer. 

“Now, you have refused therapy, counsel, journaling, meditation and yoga classes, art and animal therapy, and a number of other things. If I listed them all we would be here for hours. No point in losing time.” 

Jake crossed his arms and lifted his chin, defiant. 

“I suggest that our next step is assigning you to buddy,” she continued on, placidly. She lifted a hand when he opened his mouth to talk. “Actually, before you answer, I have to let you know that if you refuse, I won’t be able to keep you in the air any longer. We need to see that you are willing to put in the work.” 

He swallowed. “What if I get therapy now?” 

She smiled again, lipstick-stained mouth thinning into some disingenuous. “That would be a step in the right direction. But I’m afraid we need more from you this time. We want someone to monitor you closely in your journey.” 

Sweat gathered in his palms. Him, who so proudly claimed to be able to withstand anything, anxious at the idea of a stranger embedded in his intimacy. 

“We have already found a volunteer to help you. He’s a familiar face, it shouldn’t be too hard for you both to be roommates. There’s a car waiting for you outside, you can pack and it’ll drive you to your new home for the next few weeks.” 

Jake had the strongest urge to simply book it out of here, forget about his entire life rooted in the Navy and start anew. Maybe in Europe. 

She stood up, gathering her things, straightening her uniform. “I do hope that we do not have to see each other again, Lieutenant. Best of luck.” 

He nodded but did not offer any parting words. 

#

Bradley Bradshaw was waiting for him on the stoop of their new abode. Jake almost swore up a storm at his sight, but waited until the car had disappeared from view to do so. 

“Nice to see you too, Hangman,” Bradshaw offered with a new slump to his shoulders, leaning back against the railing. 

“What, surprised?” Jake asked, already feeling too tight in his own skin. “Weren’t you briefed?” 

“Well, nobody gave me your name, you know that damn well. I honestly didn’t think of you when they gave me your case.” 

“Oh yeah? Too neurotic to make you think of me?”

Rooster shrugged. “Probably should have, honestly. Recalcitrant. Individualist. Anxious about low stress situations. Insomniac.” Bradshaw reached out a hand to touch Jake’s shoulder, light as a feather. “Touch starved.” 

Jake swatted his hand away. “Fuck off. Nothing that getting laid cannot resolve.” 

Rooster made a face. “I don’t think that’s how it works.” 

“Sure does. Now, are you getting ready to go out or do I have the pleasure of my own company?”

“I don’t really have a choice now, do I?” 

“You’re the one who volunteered.” 

#

The club Jake elected as his hunting ground for the night was packed to the brim. Bradshaw gave him a wild-eyed look as they passed the door and tried to reach for him before Jake slinked away. He did not bother to see if Rooster could follow. 

The bodies pressed against him, warm and sweaty, and it was almost good. Jake pulled himself into the frenzy of writhing people, barely listening to the music, only reacting to the foreign touches of strangers all around him. He let hands guide his hips and lips find his neck, before they lost interest and turned around. Manicured nails racked through his hair. A large arm pulled him tight and let him go almost just as fast. 

Jake was soaking it all up. He did not linger on the brevity of touches because it had always been inevitable. Jake was not to be kept. He was mostly fine with that. 

But then, there were hands at his shoulders and the off-beat sway of a large body, a palm cupping his head to let it rest against a collarbone and Bradshaw was burning to the touch, as comforting as a campfire in a silent forest. 

They stayed together for a long moment, coming to a standstill by the second song and completely immobile by the third. Jake’s hands were shaking. His heart was cradled in his chest, steady. The knot in his stomach was gone, but was fighting to come back, lingering at the edges of his consciousness. 

“Come on,” said Bradshaw, “let’s go home.” 

#

Bradshaw put him into bed and Jake was too ashamed to even speak. Now that Bradshaw was a careful two feet away, he could not believe that he had been tamed by a hug. 

He stared hotly at the ceiling, until Rooster’s monstrous hand gently covered his eyes, lashes fluttering against his palm. 

“Sleep,” he instructed. 

Jake tried to disobey, but Rooster stayed seated by his side until he gave in. He slept.

I don't know if I have energy for more of this AU (I always say that lmao). Give it some love with a reblog !

[written-in-flowers]

A Different World: Gwinam x Reader

Pairing: Yoon Gwinam x Plussize!fem!Reader

Genre: Smut. So much Smut. Minors DNI please

Word Count: 12k

Rating: M....very much M, explicit

Summary: Before the outbreak, you never thought you had a chance with Yoon Gwinam, and he thought the same about you. But, once you've both come into a new state of being, a "hambie", suddenly sexual fantasies don't stay fantasies.

Tags: Fat Shaming, Bullying, Toxic Friendships, Dom/sub, Light Sadism, Light Masochism, Spanking, Pulic Masturbation, Masturbation in bathroom, Mutual pining, blood and gore, blood kink, spit kink, rape fantasy, thigh worship, body worship, rough sex, rough oral sex, oral sex (m. and f. receiving/giving), anal sex, rimming, anal fingering, face slapping, facials, cum swallowing, multiple orgasms (m. and f.), multiple positions, no breaks, they're both fucking pervs and so horny for each other, kind of a forbidden romance? well, until all their friends die anyways. ****

You fixed your shirt for the millionth time that morning. You hated how your stomach and chest lightly pushed on the clear buttons of your shirt; it made you look fatter tucked into your skirt. The skirt is a different breed of annoying. Your thick thighs used to chafe from rubbing together throughout the day. You usually pull on gym pants if it becomes too much, but deodorant sticks and your thigh high stockings make it easier to bear. Other girls can wear the pants without a word; you, the chubby one, can't. You hoped the shirt did not pop open from the stretch. The laundry schedule at home meant you'd have at least one day with the smaller school shirt. Fixing it again, you decided to button your blazer over it for now. When you get to class, you can unbutton it to breathe before doing it again.

"Stop doing that. You're going to make it worse," Hyejin said from beside you. "You should've gotten a larger size."

"The store didn't carry any more of it," you admitted quietly. "I need to go there later to see if they have them again."

Choi Hyejin, small and narrow, was one of the two people you're certain you hate. A petite, brown haired girl from an upper class family, she carried the haughty air and snotty opinions of the high society she came from. Had you two not grown up together, you're sure you'd be her favorite punching bag. But since your fathers worked together, and your mothers ran in the same social circles, she resorted to backhanded compliments like this.

"Or you can have it tailored like my brother did," said the girl on your left.

Slender and tall, Kim Soomin was part of the girl's volleyball team and well liked in the athletic scene. Her black hair tied back in a long plait, she wore her volleyball jacket over her uniform, which made her look broader but slimmer at the same time. Another girl from an affluent family, you and her became close on your first day of primary school. That is where your trio-friendship forged, and where it would remain until the end of time. Soomin didn't discourage you like Hyejin did, but you knew why she hung out with you. It's the same reason they both did:

They look hotter when compared to you. Because even with Hyejin's hooked nose and Soomin's height, at least they're not fat.

"I suppose, but my mom might say no," you told her, holding your books to your chest. "She'll just tell me to lose weight."

"Then why don't you? It'd be better for your health, if anything. It can’t be that hard.”

The false concern for your health stabbed another hole in you. Hyejin and Soomin might not be ideal friends, but it was certainly better than having none. With at least these two, you avoided the cruel, harsh bullying you often witnessed happen to others. If Choi Hyejin and Kim Soomin liked you, then you must be cool. However, the trade off is the occasional 'you're fat and that's why your life sucks' discussion. You knew they didn’t actually care if you lost any weight. The longer you remained fat, the better they’d continue to look in comparison. In your mind’s eye, you saw all the boys who flirted with Hyejin at school. They ignored you completely. Not that you cared. Only one boy in Hyoson High School caught your attention, and he’d never notice you. Not in a million years.

"You can always come to the school gym with me!” said Soomin. “I don't mind having a partner and the coach won't say anything about it."

"No thanks. I hate gyms. I always feel people are watching me."

"Nobody watches you, YN," Hyejin scoffed. "They don't care as much as you think they do."

You wanted to tell her that a fat girl in a gym often attracted some kind of torment, but the words caught in your throat. Looking up the path leading into school, you spotted him. Yoon Gwinam. A tall boy with black hair that reached his neck, he wore the school shirt open with a black sweater underneath, likely to fight off the chill. Long limbs made him look longer and broader. You often imagined him completely encapsulating you in a hug, your head on his shoulder and hearing his heart beating. Your heart fluttered seeing him standing in the distance with his friends. He stood, chuckling and smiling when one of them made a joke. You wished it was you making him smile like that. You’d do anything to see it up close. Gwinam is a tough guy; you’ve seen him beat up people with little effort. The sort of guy who’d protect you and care for you above everyone else; the guy whose heart would only melt for you. No guy you’d managed to date treated you the way you wanted.

“-We did it by that old railroad track outside the train stations,” Hyejin’s story broke into your thoughts as you walked. Your eyes kept focusing on Gwinam, leaning against a building near the school. Absent-mindedly, you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, thinking it made you more attractive. “I love it when they groan. It’s super hot when a guy is vocal.”

“I can’t believe you did that,” Soomin laughed. “Especially since he’s dating Aro.”

“Aro should take better care of her man then, if you know what I mean.”

You tuned out Hyejin’s recount, and thought of saying something Gwinam as you walked by. ‘Hey Gwinam’. ‘Morning Gwinam’. ‘Gwinam, please rip off my panties, and fuck me hard.’ No, the last one is a bit too much. Besides, if Soomin and Hyejin saw you talking to him, they’d ask why you did. His reputation around school wasn’t very good; he hung around with bullies who picked on people weaker than them. Yet, it was this bad reputation that made you want him more. You didn’t want to “fix” him. You wanted him as he was, meanness and all. You couldn’t really explain it. Something about him attracted you, and they wouldn’t understand.

“Are you still talking to him?” asked Soomin, amused. “Or have you already thrown him away?”

“Nah, we’re still talking,” she said. Of course they were. You knew Hyejin would eventually forget about her newest conquest and move onto someone else. “He said he can’t get enough of me.”

“Oh my god, you’re so bad.”

The thought of Gwinam only wanting sex from you crossed your mind. It was why most guys approached you: they thought heavy girls are desperate and will sleep with them for crumbs of affection. Normally you reject these guys, since high school boys like to brag. Yet, if Gwinam ever showed interest, you’d crumble immediately. If you put out for any guy in school, it’d be him. Deep down, you sensed he enjoyed the kind of sex you did…At least, in your fantasies he did.

“You know, YN, he’s got a pretty cute friend,” she told you. “I mean, he’s not Namjoon hot, but he’s okay looking. He’s definitely your type. I could set you up-YN? Are you listening?”

“Huh? What?”

Hyejin looked between you and where Gwinam stood and let out a soft laugh. “Oh my god, no way,” she teased, “You’re actually checking out Yoon Gwinam?”

“What?! No,” you defended instantly. “I wasn’t looking at him at all.”

“He’s a jerk, YN,” said Soomin. “He’s a bully. How could you like a guy that bullies people?”

“He’s also a total idiot,” added Hyejin.

“I wasn’t looking at him,” you repeated firmly, heat rising in your cheeks. “He’s just…He’s in my eyeline, that’s all.”

“He’s not even a cute bully,” said Soomin. “You know, like the guys in the dramas. He’s ugly. He’s got a weird face shape.”

You wanted to hit her. Gwinam is by no means ugly. You liked his face, his body, his hair, and everything else. In your daydreams, he liked your body too. He’d spend ages telling you how beautiful he thinks you are, and how much you turn him on.

“Not to mention that ugly haircut,” Hyejin scoffed. “Besides, I wouldn’t bother. It’s not like he’d be into you.”

“Hyejin,” Soomin said carefully. “Don’t be so mean.”

“I’m not being mean. I’m being honest,” she retorted. “Guys like him are total assholes. He’d probably laugh at you and walk away if you confessed.”

“I won’t confess because there’s nothing to confess.”

It pained you to admit it, but Hyejin was right. Gwinam would never like a girl like you. You looked at him one more time as you came closer. He didn't even look your way. Why should he? There’s nothing special about you. Guys never looked at you; why should he be any different? You walked past his group, and your eyes met him for a split second. You quickly turned away before he noticed you. It made your cheeks burn more, simply having him acknowledge you for a second even if he thought nothing of you.

“Ugh, so gross,” Soomin huffed.

“The dude’s a walking red flag. You should like someone else,” Hyejin smiled slowly, “Like Lee Suhyeok. Isn’t he gorgeous?”

Yes, Suhyeok was the handsome, friendly guy any sane girl would like. Yet, you didn’t. You found it difficult when you compared him to Gwinam, who checked all your boxes. Your fondness for bad boys will eventually come back to bite you, you know. It was best for everyone if you kept it to yourself.

“Gosh, I’d kill to get a slice of him,” Hyejin sighed.

“But he’s not into you,” you said to her. A little dig into her made you feel good. “He likes someone else, I heard.”

“That’s because he hasn’t gotten with me yet,” she replied with a sly smile.

“Maybe he doesn’t want to get with you because you fuck any guy who gives you attention,” you heard yourself say to her. You instantly gasped and Soomin laughed out loud. “Oh, um, well, I mean maybe-”

“-Maybe ‘what’? At least guys actually look at me, unlike you. Namjoon told me he and his friends have a bet going, you know,” she spat back. “Yeah, to see who could bag The Pig. He told me to introduce you to his friend, since he said if he wins, he’d split the money with us. Want to know what I said? I said ‘no’ because I’m a good friend.”

“What?” Your throat dried up at that confession. It was always your worst fear: a guy showing interest as a dare from his friends. “So, you were going to set me up with someone who means to play a prank on me?”

“Oh, come on, like you’re that dumb. I told him you wouldn’t fall for it. He’d have to try really hard since you always get all weird when you like a guy.”

“But you still knew,” you stopped walking, and gripped your books tightly. “You were still going to go through with it just so some asshole keeps liking you.”

You wanted to hit her. You wanted to call her every name in the book, and smack her until you drew blood. She thought herself so above you and Soomin. You pictured yourself literally knocking her down a size. Your nails dug into the soft cover of your textbooks, so tight your knuckles burned. Images of you sitting in a restaurant, waiting on a guy who might never come, tightened your chest. You hated her.

“I was going to tell you,” she said, “Stop being so dramatic. It’s not like you’ll go through with it. You chicken out every time a guy comes onto you. I told you about it just now, didn’t I? See, I’m a good friend to you and you say mean things to me. I was only looking out for you.”

She turned on her heel and continued walking. Soomin stayed behind for a moment, seeing your eyes glare at Hyejin’s back. “YN?” she came to you cautiously, “YN, we gotta go to class.”

Why were you friends with her? Why were you friends with either of them? You knew why. Because it was better to be friends with them, taking the licks, than not having friends at all.

“YN-”

“-Fuck off,” you hissed at her before leaving her side.

You blinked back the tears building up in her eyes. Going into the school with teary eyes might attract more attention than you’d like. Crying in front of people showed weakness. You couldn’t let people know you’re weak because then you’d become a target too. Walking away from the school pathway, you ended up in the construction site beside the main building. You aren’t sure what the school planned to make the building, but that didn’t matter to you. The half finished, concrete building remained abandoned during the day time. Nobody will hear you crying. You walked until the sounds of the other students faded into nothingness.

You’re a joke to them. You’re the dumb, ugly fat friend who they can look at when they feel bad about themselves. Every rude word, every mean comment from everyone in your life came rushing back to you. Your mother scolded you for eating more than you should. Your father said he was glad because then he didn’t have to worry about boys coming to his door. Hyejin liked pointing out the flaws in your outfits and Soomin constantly offered unsolicited health advice. You doubted this “friend” of Namjoon’s would actually like you. Not even the boys you’d gone out with before liked you. They always shift uncomfortably or tell you to keep it a secret. God forbid their friends should find out they liked the fat girl.

You collapsed against a bare, concrete wall and looked outside a window frame. Fresh air blew past the window, only just brushing the window sill you leaned against. You forced yourself to enjoy the free air to drown out the pain festering inside you. Visions of beating every single person in your life passed like a movie reel. You briefly imagined Hyejin getting into an accident that disfigures her pretty face forever; you pictured your mother finally dying and being free of her hateful words. Why couldn’t people just let you live?

As you stood there thinking, your favorite daydream came back. Gwinam is your boyfriend, and he hears what Hyejin said to you and what Namjoon’s friends planned to do, and beats them all up for you. In this daydream, you have a protector who adores you; who loves you as you are. A Gwinam who’d burn down the world for you; who’d bring ultimate pain to anyone who hurt you. You knew this Gwinam did not exist, but you comforted yourself with the fantasy anyways. Wiping your eyes, hoping the redness won’t be noticeable, sudden footsteps from the next room made you jump. You listened closely and realized it was multiple people.

“I told you to have the money with you.”

The familiar voice of Gwinam sent shivers down your body. You didn’t know who he’d come with, but you guessed it was his gang of bullies. Visions of what they might do if they caught you in the building, weeping and weak, and you pressed yourself against the wall. You could stay there until they left, or maybe you could sneak out through the window. But, the temptation guided you to the nearby hole in the wall meant to be a doorway. You rarely get a chance to watch Gwinam undisturbed this way. Usually, you’re with one of your friends or in a crowded room, and someone might see you. These moments didn’t come very often, so you seized it. Quietly, you walked to the door nearby and peeked one eye into the main room.

There he was, standing a few feet from a short, skinny boy. You immediately recognized the boy as Park Jisung, a boy from your homeroom. Jisung cowered away from Gwinam, who had him cornered in the empty room. Gwinam looked at Jisung the way a cat looked at a mouse. Your eyes scanned over his long frame; you pictured him standing front of you with the same stare. If you wanted anyone to bully you, it’d be Gwinam.

“I’m-I’m sorry, Gwinam,” Jisung gave a bow, shaking and nervous. “I’ll bri-bring it tomorrow.”

“But I need it today,” he said. He sighed, “Guys like you really fucking piss me off.”

‘Yes. Yes, get pissed off. Make him regret it,’ your darkest fantasies screamed. You pushed yourself against the wall, heat starting to flare up in your body despite the cold wall. ‘Hit him. Hurt him. Hit me. Hurt me.’

“I’m sorry, Gwinam! If you give me a little bit of time, I’ll get you the money. I promise. My parents didn’t have any to-”

“-I don’t care,” he said. “Fucking asshole.”

You flinched as Gwinam’s hand slapped Jisung across the face. Jisung stumbled to the side. Psh, weakling. He didn’t even hit that hard. You looked at Gwinam’s face, anger rising in him as he smacked Jisung around more. If only he did that to you. You clenched your thighs together watching him swing his long arms in each slap. Once Jisung hit the ground, Gwinam’s kicks began harsher and deeper. He looked so hot. Being angry or scared brought out a person’s true nature; Gwinam liked hurting people, and you liked watching him hurt people. You liked how Gwinam threw Jisung around like a rag doll, smacking and kicking him. You thought of him doing the same to you. Guys like Gwinam made you feel small and weak, despite your heaviness. You bit your lower lip thinking of those hands pinning you to the ground, leaving bruises around them for later. He’d throw you on the ground, tear open your shirt to bite and slap your tits before fucking you. No foreplay. No gentleness or kindness. You’d be wet from his ferocity alone.

“Piece of shit,” Gwinam growled.

“What a loser,” you heard one of his friends laugh.

Your body slowly began grinding into the side of the doorway. Nobody would see you in the dimness, surely. They’re preoccupied with Jisung, who wept and begged them to stop. Your pussy pulsed watching Gwinam kick and stomp on him. You stuck your hand underneath your skirt, carefully running your fingers over your sex. It’d have to be quick, but watching Gwinam in the flesh this way made you wetter. Tightness built between your thighs, that familiar arousal burning as your fingers trailed over your slit. The chilling wall caused your nipples to harden, and you thought of Gwinam’s mouth on them. He’d bite and suck as his cock grinded into your pussy. You’d grip his shoulders and arms, nails clawing his flesh as he teased you.

You’d let him take you however he wished. You’d be his personal fuck toy; a thing only made to pleasure him.

“Psh, pathetic motherfucker,” Gwinam spat at Jisung. He crouched down and lifted his head by the hair.

You bit down on your lip as you circled your clit. His tongue swirls around it greedily, gripping your thighs hard and growling from the taste. He stood Jisung up to his feet. He’d do the same to you. He’d laugh at you for getting so wet so easily; he’d call you a whore, smack you one more time, before continuing the sexual torture. Maybe he’d do what he did to Min Eunji once. He’d grab a marker and write filthy words on your body, on your clothes, so people knew you belonged to him. Screw what your friends thought. This is your fantasy, not theirs. Your lips grew wetter, and you pushed your panties aside. You started rubbing yourself quicker. A slew of dirty thoughts came as Jisung groaned, and coughed.

Gwinam spanking your ass until it becomes tender and hot.

Gwinam spitting in your mouth, then calling you a filthy bitch for doing it.

Gwinam tying you to his bed at home and leaving you there for whenever he gets horny.

The climax hits you hard with the usual scene: Gwinam chasing you through a forest, feral and high on adrenaline, until he gets his hands on you. You rode it out on your hand as you pictured him fucking you like an animal. His teeth gritted, his muscles tense and tight, and his cock shooting cum over your face and breasts. It’d hurt, but you’d love that. Your juices coated your fingers, and you shivered as you came down into your post-orgasm glow. Gwinam finished beating up Jisung, who tearfully ran away when Gwinam and his friends let him go. Panting, running his hands through his hair, Gwinam stood there a moment while his friends left the building. You continued circling your sensitive nub, wishing you could go for a second time. The bold fantasy of you offering yourself to him right then crossed your mind, but no, you’d never do that. Then, the unthinkable happened.

Gwinam saw you. He’d turned his head casually; you supposed he’d done it to check if anyone had seen him, and spotted you in the other room. You froze in place, quickly withdrawing your hand from your panties. Due to the angle, Gwinam didn’t see your lower half, but him having seen you was enough. Dark eyes swept down the parts of your body he could see. What if he suspected what you’d done? What if he’d heard you and purposefully prolonged the beatdown? You gasped and whipped your body around out of sight. You worried he might confront you. You held back a whimper imagining him coming over to you, sticking his hands in your panties, and telling you how naughty you’ve been.

‘Insatiable slut. You can’t even wait until we’re alone to touch yourself for me. Do it again. Now.’

Unfortunately, that didn’t happen. You heard Gwinam’s friend call out to him, and you heard him leave. In reality, he’d never want to touch you. He’ll no doubt go to his friends and tell them what he suspected. They’ll taunt and tease you forever about it. Soomin and Hyejin would be disgusted with you, because even if you disliked them, they’re all you have. On wobbly legs, you picked up your things and left the construction site.

Your fantasies will always be exactly that. Fantasies. Nothing more.

How did you do it? How did you catch his attention when nothing else does? How do you make this entire world slow down when you walk past him? Any time Gwinam saw you, he swore everything around him stopped for you. Most girls at school didn’t have that effect on him. They were too skinny or too annoying. Gwinam liked girls with soft curves that made him drool. You are such a girl. The briefest of glances from you haunt him throughout the rest of the day. That small twinkle of acknowledgement sent him into a stunned silence for several seconds, if not minutes. So, to see you in that half-finished building, breathless and clutching the wall, inspired a fresh series of fantasies. He thought of going up to you in that building, pulling down your panties and shoving himself inside you. You’d stay up against that wall, shirt open and tits bouncing, as he pumped his cum into you. He loved your tits. And your thighs. He liked peeking at them during class. The desk always stopped just underneath them so he had a nice view. Lord knows what he’d do if you sat beside him. He’d leave class with wet fingers every day.

But, sadly, those dirty thoughts would never come to be. A smart, clever girl who always did well would never want an idiot like him. Girls like you wanted handsome, smart guys like Suhyeok. Gwinam is forced to live with thoughts of you in his arms in his dreams. You must be so soft. You always smell nice too. He’s noticed it before; it’s a flowery perfume that drew him to you. He thought of your laugh as he walked towards school with Myunghwa and the others. He wished he could be the one making you laugh. Visions of kissing you, walking hand-in-hand with you, and being with you clouded his mind. He’d be good to you. Gwinam wasn’t kind very often, but he’d treat you so well. He’d give you anything you wanted; do anything you asked of him.

He’d hurt someone for you, if you wished it.

The group entered the school before classes began, and Gwinam caught sight of you rushing past them. A hint of floral perfume hit his nose, causing him to breathe it deeply. He noticed you heading towards the bathrooms. He smirked. You must’ve made such a mess. Too bad he isn’t there to lick you clean. He shook the image of your soaked pussy from his head when Myunghwa smacked the nape of his neck.

“-Are you listening to me?” the short boy asked him irritably.

“Huh? Yeah, I was.”

Myunghwa scoffed disbelievingly. “Fucking idiot,” he said, “You never pay attention.”

“He was checking out Park YN,” Changhoon, another part of their group, smirked. “I can’t believe you like that fattie. She’s not even pretty in the face.”

“I wasn’t checking her out,” Gwinam said defensively. “I wouldn’t touch her even if she was the last girl on earth.” He considered the feeling might be mutual. You’d never truly like him. If you were doing what he thought, it must’ve been for someone else. The idea alone boiled his blood. “She’s ugly.”

No, you’re not. You’re beautiful. So beautiful. He thought of the other day when he saw you in the library. You often go there during lunch to catch up on homework or to read quietly. You liked reading, he noticed. You’d sat beside a window, and he admired how the sun caught in your hair, illuminating your face. He put the image to memory for those tough nights at home. Whenever his dad called him useless or his mom shook her head in disappointment, he pictured you in that chair. You’d lift your head, smile, and tell him he’s not a waste of space. You’d encourage and lift his spirits up…and he’d kiss you. He thought of your lips and the cherry lip balm he spotted in your bag. They must taste so good.

And he’d never have them. He’d never have you. He’s not supposed to like girls like you. He’s supposed to like skinny, pretty girls like your friends. Yet, those girls didn’t excite him like you did.

Myunghwa went on with some story about how someone mentioned his name in Jinsu’s disappearance. The police went to his house to question him. Gwinam wanted to tell him they’d done the same to him and the others. It’s not their fault Jinsu made it so easy for them; he never fought back until that night. Gwinam recalled the way his body hit the sign, hit a balcony, before finally crashing into the alleyway. He’d never seen a dead person before. He’d been sure that the police might arrest him. They could’ve found fingerprints on Jinsu’s skin or caught him on camera somehow. Yet, they’d done the opposite. They believed the story of them having been out in the street and nowhere near Jinsu’s last location.

Gwinam walked into class on his own, and spotted you in your usual seat next to him. You shared a desk space with your friend, Soomin, but his desk was across the aisle. He bit the inside of his lip seeing you crossed your legs under your desk. A small peek of your thigh high stocking stirred more dirty images in his mind. He liked how a bit of pudge went over the stocking bands; if he ever got his hands on those thighs, he’d lose his mind. He took his seat nearby and did his best to not look at you. He thought about the construction site again, picturing you fingering yourself to him and cumming hard on your pretty fingers. He shifted his gaze slightly to see your chest exactly where he knew it’d be. The combined picture of your thighs and your breasts caused him to swallow thickly and look elsewhere. He’d die of embarrassment if he got a hardon in class, but how could he ignore such a sensual sight?

As Mr. Lee, their science teacher, began class when Gwinam noticed you starting to pull off your blazer. Logic and reason said you must be hot, considering you’re sitting near the windows. But his horny, perverted mind said you were taking it off for him. You wore a tight shirt today, so it showed off the curves of your bosom and tummy. His jaw dropped when he spotted a white strap through the fabric. Your bra, he hoped. He quickly thought of you in his lap, wearing nothing but your skirt and stockings. No bra. No panties.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he dared a chance to look at it. A message from Myunghwa.

‘Wow, you got it bad for her, huh? Bet she’d crush you if she got on top.’

He clenched his jaw and put the phone away. Whenever he felt a new fantasy coming on, his friends ruined it for him. He wished he could sit closer. He wished he could talk to you, and only you. You’re so smart. You answer Mr. Lee’s questions without hesitation and so eloquently. Your friends might be pretty, but they’re complete airheads. You’re the intelligent one. The intelligent one with pretty lips and eyes that made him melt.

Gwinam went through absolute torture during class. Not even amusing himself by bullying Eunji distracted him. Seeing the buttons between your tits stretch from the size, he knew he’d have plenty of jerk-off scenarios tonight.

‘Gwinam? Could you help me with my shirt? It’s so tight and uncomfortable. Please, take it off me.’

He squeezed his eyes tightly and bit his tongue as the signal for lunch rang through the school.

‘The cold’s making my nipples hard. Would you warm them with your mouth? They’re so hard and my hands aren’t as warm as your tongue.’

Fucking hell. Gwinam stood up from his desk before you did, and decided a walk to the cafeteria might clear his head.

‘Oh, Gwinam, your cock’s so big-’

Fuck. No.

‘-Put it between my tits, and fuck them. I want to make you cum using my soft, huge tits.’

He pushed into a bathroom stall, locked the door and started unbuckling his pants.

‘God, they just swallow your dick. I can’t wait for you to cum all over them. I love cum. I want you to cum on me. Please, Gwinam, cover me in your yummy cum.’

His dick throbbed in his hand in every stroke. His eyes closed and he thought about you in the construction building. He thought of catching you touching yourself, and taking advantage of your vulnerable position. Gwinam pictured himself tearing off your clothes, exposing your luscious body, and tasting every inch of you. You’d struggle at first, pleading and whimpering for him to stop, but you’d soon give into him. Gwinam focused on the image of you riding him to climax. Your tight walls clenched hard around him as he rubbed his thumb over your clit; your breasts bouncing in his face until he suckled on one of them. The thought made him cum within minutes. That’s what you did to him. He wished you didn’t have such a fierce hold on him. He wished he didn’t desire you so much, but he couldn’t help it. He’d become completely blind to any other woman he met. He only wanted you.

Coming down from his orgasm, he cleaned himself up and decided to head to the cafeteria. He felt refreshed having gotten you out of his system. He wondered if he might see you there or if you’d go to the library again today. He didn’t care which one. He’d have to keep his leering to a minimum now that Myunghwa saw him looking at you. He came up with explanations to why he’d been looking your way, but none of them sounded convincing. When he entered the cafeteria, he did see you there. You stood in line with Soomin. You’d put your blazer back on, which dampened his spirits a bit. But then again, it might be good for him. He’d only just finished rubbing one out to you. He can’t do it twice in such a short amount of time.

He got into the line two people behind you, and looked at his phone instead. Myunghwa and Changsoon taunted him over what they’d seen in class. They made fun of you, talking about how your buttons must be holding on for dear life or telling him to be careful as you might break his bed getting into it. He wanted to kill them. He didn’t care if they talked badly about other girls; he didn’t want them talking badly about you. But, rather than tell them off, he joined in the conversation.

‘Kekeke, she probably jiggles around like jello.’

This amused them. Yet, he looked at you as the line moved. You styled your hair differently. Usually, you wore it tied back from your face, but today it flowed freely around your face. Gwinam did not have a particularly favorite look; he loved anything you wore or did to yourself. He watched you chat with Soomin. By your annoyed gaze and clenched jaw, he assumed you’re arguing quietly. No doubt your “friend” Choi Hyejin said something to upset you, and Soomin defended her. He often overheard you three talking at lunch or in class. He liked the sound of your voice, so sue him. Hyejin in particular liked putting you down, and you let her. Just like how he let Myunghwa talk down to him.

He shoved the person in front of him out of the way, stepping to them when they protested until they backed off.

“-She didn’t mean anything by it. She only meant that you’re not that good with guys, so she was trying to help,” Soomin said to you as you started down the line. “She didn’t know Namjoon planned anything until he said it.”

“Whatever.”

“Oh, YN, you know Hyejin cares about you. I do too.”

“Okay.”

You shut down. Whatever Soomin said to you left you defeated. He thought of pushing Soomin aside and holding you close. Whatever prank or mean thing Hyejin said to you would be smothered away by his kisses. He grabbed a tray, and began going down the line with you. Seeing your cold stare, and how you avoided Soomin’s gaze, you’d gotten locked inside your head. It happened to him a lot too. Whenever Myunghwa insulted or hit him, or whenever his father called him a worthless piece of shit, he’d sink into the dark, lonely place in his mind. If only he could pull you from it, then you would never feel pain again. Soomin must’ve given up trying to reach you, because then she scoffed and walked away to sit down. This left a gap between you and him. He thought about what he’d just done in the bathroom, and wished he’d taken you with him. As you reached the end of the line, the both of you reached for a pair of utensils at the same time.

“Oh, sorry,” you said timidly. “I didn’t…I’m sorry, I…”

“It’s okay,” he said, picking up one of the wrapped pairs to hand to you, “Here.”

“Thank you.”

Oh, your eyes. He never gave them enough appreciation. So much innocence and sweetness shined from them, yet they hid something much darker within. He could tell. He wanted to say more, but what? Rarely did he get this close to you. He was always worried someone might see and make fun of him for it. But, there’s nobody who matters around him. He saw you turn away from him shamefully. No doubt you’re remembering what happened on the construction site. When he did not look away from you, you squeaked out:

“I won’t tell anyone what I saw. I promise.”

Did you think he’d hurt you? “Good,” he said, bending down to your ear, “I won’t tell anyone what I saw either. I hope you enjoyed yourself.”

What in the hell was he doing? Trying to scare you away? He mentally kicked himself when he spotted your widening eyes. He watched you scurry away from him like a mouse, and it left him disheartened. He couldn’t help himself, could he? What did he think you’d say to that? Gwinam bit his tongue again, then went to sit with the gang. He forced himself not to look at you. Looking at you in front of the guys meant more teasing. He only liked one kind of teasing, and it was the teasing he got from you.

You woke up with a gasp. Your heart hammered in your ears, and suddenly you croaked in pain. You felt as if someone dislodged your bones, then put them back into place. Heat burned behind your eyes, and briefly you smelled blood all around you. Hunger. A distinct hunger rumbled in your body, but something inside you fought it back. Your mind went back and forth between this limbo of cravings and denials before you paused all together. You blinked your eyes a few times as your vision cleared.

It took several moments for you to register that you were soaked to the bones on the cafeteria floor. All around you, you hear gargled snarling and sharp hissing sounds. You heard feet shuffling or skidding across the floor; the cracking of bones made you flinch every time it sounded in the room. You kept your eyes closed, hoping if you open them, you’ll be back home in your bed. But, no you weren’t. You knew you weren’t.

Sitting up, you felt a distinct soreness in your neck, shoulder, stomach and arm. You looked down at your shaking hands to see them stained with blood. You found more of it on your uniform and stockings. You took deep breaths as you spotted the deep, crimson stain on your left forearm. Gingerly, you pulled up your sleeve to see a bite mark deep in your flesh. It looks fresh, as if it’d never healed. But, when you touched it, you felt no pain. The same was said for the scratches and bites on your stomach, the injuries having slashed through your shirt. You pressed down on the mark on your neck, only to hear the squishing of severed flesh. Curious, you poked your pinky into a hole in your neck, feeling no pain whatsoever. How could this be?

“Am I dead?”

You stared around the empty cafeteria. The people who’d been there had not escaped. The blood stains on the walls, windows, floors and tables told you as much. The creatures who’d once been classmates must’ve attacked the others, turning them into beasts as well. But, why had that not happened to you? You jumped suddenly when the gnashing, guttural sounds came from behind you. Your eyes widened in shock. Hyejin. At least, what was left of her. Hyejin, once dainty and posh, now cracked her neck this way and that as she snapped her jaws like a turtle. You saw her front covered in blood, more of it smeared around her mouth and on her hands. Blood red eyes instantly locked with yours. You let out a scream as she rushed towards you, hands outstretched and clawing for you. You shielded yourself in a fetal position, ready to be devoured by her, before you realized she wasn’t touching you. Hyejin, reeking of rotting flesh, only hunched a few inches from you. You heard her sniffing the air around her. She moved her head side to side, still biting and growling as drool came from her yellowed teeth. But, she did not touch you.

Soon, Hyejin backed away. She jolted upright, and began moving from you to the center of the room. You realized she was not the only one in the room. Other students who’d sat in the cafeteria now jerked and stumbled around. You stood up, almost slipping on the wet floors, and waited for one of them to notice you. But, none of them did. They should be charging at you; they should be ripping and tearing at your body, but they did not. To them, you’re not there. Touching your wounded neck again, you realized something: You’d become one of them. That is why they did not attack you as you walked out of the cafeteria.

Nor when you reached the pathways outside school. All around you, students walked around, sniffing and searching for more human meat. None of them bothered you unless you bothered them first. Even then, they only snapped their teeth at you before moving away. It felt surreal. An ignorant person might believe they’re in a dream, but you knew better. Whatever happened here has led to hundreds of students being infected with a mind altering disease. You wondered what could’ve caused this as you walked around the school. Biochemical warfare? Chemical lab experiment gone wrong? You couldn’t think of anything else. You could only focus on trying not to attract any of the zombies around you.

It all came back to you as you walked. One minute, you’d been apologizing to Hyejin for what you’d said about her, and the next a rush of students flooded the room. You’d been the first to stand from your seat. You remembered students screaming with terror as they ran through the cafeteria. You remembered seeing the things chasing them: other students, all of them red-eyed and feral. They screeched and growled hysterically, as if possessed by demons. But, that’s childish; this was something worse. You’d grabbed your bag once you saw an infected student tackle a girl by the wall and instantly bite into her throat. Soomin, the athlete, managed to get to a back door before either you or Hyejin. Some friends. It truly became every man for himself. Hyejin had screamed in absolute terror when one zombie, a large boy, blundered after her. You remember being a few steps ahead of her by then. You’d reached for the kitchen doors when a hand yanked your head back.

Hyejin used you as a means of escape. You’d slipped and tripped over the floors as the sprinkles above went off, causing it to rain inside the cafeteria. The large zombie grabbed hold of you, but you’d managed to fight him off. Another zombie, a girl with short hair, launched at you. That’s how your arm was bitten. But, you hadn’t stayed under her for long, since you threw her off you. You’d gotten up a second time where you watched Hyejin running through the kitchen to the back doors. Seeing it up ahead, you knew instinctively she’d close the door on you if she reached it. You recall leaping. You never leapt before, but you leapt towards Hyejin. Your hands found her long dark hair, fisted it tightly, and dragged her from the door. She fell to the ground with a painful groan. By the back door, you saw the two zombies attack her. You sidestepped another zombie when you realized the back door was locked. Running into the main kitchen, you dodged zombies and screamed when one of them lurched for you. Due to the slippery floor and chaos of humans and zombies, you’d fallen face forward. All air knocked out of you, you scrambled up before a zombie caught you.

That’s when more of them came. You squeezed your eyes tightly as you thought of the stink of death and harsh pain of teeth breaking skin. You’d howled from the nails digging into your skin, and the number of zombies all vying for a piece of you. Kicking and screaming, you eventually caved when one of them sunk his teeth into your neck, the one that was most obvious to you. You touched it again, walking back into the school to the library, your sanctuary. You didn’t find anyone there. It appeared whatever zombies were here had left.

Empty. That is what the world became: empty. Yet, it didn’t feel like it to you. You heard the sounds of zombies groaning outside perfectly. You could smell the paper of the books underneath the foul odor of blood and corpses. Tapping a table, the sound was louder to you. Your ears became sensitive to any sound you made after. You guessed the other zombies, mindless and aimless, reacted to noise as well. Grabbing a book, you opened the window to test your theory. You saw several zombies walking around the fields outside. You launched the book out the window, watching it fall and crash onto the ground. The small slap alerted every zombie within a twenty foot radius. They clambered over to the sound, but growled their discontent when they only smelled more dead flesh. So, a unique sense of sound. You wondered what else your new existence brought you.

This heightened sense came in handy an hour or so later. You’d been setting small fires across the library, trying to see how far your sense of smell went, when you heard it. At first, you thought it might be another zombie, but your new nose said otherwise. The newcomer did not smell like rotting flesh or congealed blood. They were something in between. You took a whiff around, and the trail led towards the library entrance. You’d been thinking of testing out your strength and speed. You saw how indestructible your fellow zombies were: you’d been throwing computer parts at them from above and barely making a dent. You might have a similar strength. You knew whatever being sauntered into your hideout will be your guinea pig. You put out your small bonfire with a wet paper towel, and followed the sounds and smells with your new body.

You made to move, but the intruder stepped out from behind the bookcases. It was Gwinam, except he looked drastically different from the boy you saw this morning. Firstly, he wore a new jacket that obviously wasn't his. Secondly, a hideous, nauseating gash went through his left eye, leaving a gory mess behind. He stopped when he saw you. You stared at him. He stared at you. Neither of you said anything. It was like meeting one of the zombies; you did not have to speak to understand one another.

"You too?" He asked, his deep voice breaking the silence.

"Yeah."

"In the cafeteria?"

"Yeah. You?"

"In here."

"When?"

"A few hours ago. Cheongsan pushed me off there," he pointed to one of the high bookcases, "And I got bit." His good eye surveyed you from afar.

"And your eye?"

"He shoved a phone into it."

"A phone?"

The idea of a cell phone never occurred to you. You could've called for help, but that didn't seem to matter anymore. Who could help you? And if help was called, they would have come by now. "Yeah, the corner part," he said, acting out the gesture with a stabbing motion, "But it's whatever. I don't really feel it. I plan on killing him." He spotted the deep wounds on your neck, and said, "Those don't bother you either?"

"Not really. I thought they'd at least itch, but they haven't," you said. "I tried recording the healing process, but it's very slow. I think because we're still partly human, we can't feel the pain but our muscles and skin react to it. Look, see," you showed him your bite marks, the skin barely together but no longer leaking blood. "It stopped bleeding, but the wound hasn't healed."

"Is that what you've been doing here?" He gestured to the trash can at your feet. "Experimenting?"

"Well, yes," you said, sheepishly. "I want to see what my body is capable of now that I've reached this new level of being. My senses are certainly sharper: I can smell things from at least twenty feet; I'm able to hear things from a further distance too, since sound echoes and bounces. I've discovered I don't die. I can't die. Seeing you now, I'm assuming it's the same for you?"

"Yeah."

You caught him looking over your body again. You became self-conscious immediately. Being undead, you doubted you'd lose any weight from your previous life. Add the disgusting bites and scratches on your flabby flesh, and you're absolutely distasteful. You didn't need Gwinam staring at you like that.

"Stop it," you said, not meeting his eyes.

"Stop what?"

"Looking at me. You don't see me staring at your eye, do you? I don't need reminding of how ugly I am."

"You're not ugly."

You scoffed, "Please, don't insult my intelligence. I know how my body looks."

"I know too, and I like it."

"Huh?" You saw it once you met his eyes.

"Nothing about your body has ever bothered me," he said, licking his lips at you. "In fact, everything about it turns me the fuck on."

You walked backwards from him as he approached. Your heart thumped in your chest, the sound spreading to your ears and freezing your bones. A sudden heat flared up in your body, and you gulped thickly as it went all over. The glint in his eye is unmistakable, and it excites you. Never did you think this would happen. Yoon Gwinam was only meant for your dirtiest, smuttiest fantasies reserved for lonely nights at home. Yoon Gwinam was the forbidden fruit that you'd never reach; Hyejin and Soomin being the ones raising the branch with each disgusted word. Yet, as the world turned upside down, those fantasies quickly turned into reality as Gwinam moved towards you.

"You make my cock so fucking hard," he nearly growled, already unbuckling his pants. "It drives me crazy. I have to sit in class…seeing you there in that little skirt…seeing your tits almost bursting out of your shirt…I know why you wear it that way…you like showing off those big tits just for me, don't you?" The way he walked reminded you of Jisung from that morning. A lion coming upon its prey. Something about this brazen, direct Gwinam caused your mind to wander back into those fantasies. "And don't get me started on those thighs of yours,” his eyes scanned your body and stopped to your thighs, “I love looking at them, especially when you wear stockings…the way they hug your thighs so some pudges out…fuck, you know it does things to me…"

"What?" Your voice quivered slightly.

"Don't act innocent with me," he said, getting closer. His dark eyes full of frustration and lust brought back to the last scenario you imagined. Your arousal throbbed between your legs. "You act all clean cut but I know deep down you're just a whore who wants to be fucked senseless every second of the day.” He unzipped his fly, but did not pull anything out, "You made me so horny in class that I jerked off in the bathroom during lunch. I remembered you at the construction site, all breathless and horny, and I couldn't help it."

He came within inches of you. The heavy scent of blood and sweat reached your nose, and you bit your bottom lip. A sharp gasp left you when his body pressed into yours. Gwinam tugged down the front of his pants and boxers to withdraw his dick. The sight made you wet instantly. Not too long, it was certainly thick with heavy balls underneath. You knew you'd definitely feel him stretching you soon. You already imagined it tearing you apart as he ravaged your body.

"Open your shirt and let me see those tits," he demanded, eyes focused on your chest. "You were so eager to show them before. I want to see them now."

With trembling fingers you unbutton your shirt. Underneath, Gwinam saw the white undershirt you wore stretched over your large breasts. You untucked your shirt so he may see more of you, which he liked. You worried about the gashes zombies left on your stomach and chest, but Gwinam hardly noticed them. He sailed up your body past them and to your breasts. He cupped one right away, causing you to whimper from the touch. Gwinam smirked and squeezed it so you whimpered again. You never considered stimulation before this moment. You might not feel any pain, but you certainly felt the small sparks his hand alone brought. His hands warmed up as they fondled you over your bra and shirt, the temperature hardened your nipples so they poked into the fabric. The cotton fabric of your bra did nothing to hide this from Gwinam, who bent down to bite gently down on one. You made a mental note to write down ‘sexual stimulation’ as part of your human side.

He put your hand on his crotch, and instinctively you grabbed it. You liked the feel of him against your fingers. Even with his half undead existence, his body felt human as ever. You sensed the blood pumping through his cock, and could almost smell it through the thin skin. Big hands remained nearly lukewarm on your chest; their gentle squeezes were certainly stronger than your daydreams concocted. Full lips didn’t skip over the bite mark on your neck, kissing upwards and licking the dried blood. The feeling of his tongue against your skin sent chills down your body. You needed more of him. You continued lightly touching his cock, sometimes slipping lower to the ball sack underneath, which caused several deep groans.

“You feel so fucking good,” he groaned in your ear, still fondling your breasts. “So addicting,” he went back to kissing your neck, “I don’t think I’ll ever stop.”

“I don’t want you to stop.”

You brought him into a kiss, and you're thankful he didn't pull away. His plush lips caressed yours, carefully opening them with a small flick on your bottom lip. Blood tinged your lips, sliding from one tongue to the other, but you liked it. That undeniable hunger for flesh and blood came over you; you growled and sunk further into his kiss. You didn’t know if a half-zombie could eat another half-zombie, but you found his taste to be particularly intoxicating. You pushed yourself against him, roaming his body with your free hand to unzip his jacket There, you found his bloodied black sweater where zombies bit into his torso. You didn’t mind it. This new discovery only aroused you more. It was as if he'd opened the floodgates repressing your desires. You couldn’t stop yourself.

"Let's get rid of this," he growled between kisses.

He took the collar of your tanktop and tore it open easily. Gwinam groaned at the sight of your tight white bra, which squeezed your breasts more than you liked. He kissed fiercely along them, even giving a bite that pinched you, groping and squeezing them. You kept your hand on him, his shaft growing even harder while you jerked him. The touch made your sex clench within you, and your clit throbbed from the newest sensation. Gwinam roughly tugged down your bra, so your tits spilled over the wire supporting them. He stopped kissing you to admire the soft mounds filling his hands. You whined as he grazed his thumbs over your nipples, the two peaks hard against the rough pads.

"Fuck," he moaned, kissing one of them, "They're exactly how I imagined them to be. So big and soft. I could suck these all day." He took it in his mouth, rolling his tongue around it and sucking hard. He did this to each one since you squirmed at the mixture of pain and pleasure. "You can't imagine," he grunted, nipping at your tits, "How many times I felt like ripping your shirt open to play with them…How many times I thought of taking you…fucking you…raping you…"

"Gwinam…" you whimpered at his words, the filth causing you to stroke him faster. Droplets of precum stuck to your hand and slickened your motions. This only amplified your arousal.

"Like today with Jisung," he flicked his tongue over the very middle, which sent shocks of pleasure down your body. "I saw you standing there watching me hit him. I saw how you panted and bit your lower lip. You were touching yourself, and I wanted more than anything to fuck you. I wanted to chase you down, rip off your panties and have my way with you…whether you wanted it or not. I don’t care anymore.” He sucked particularly hard on one nipple, then came back up to you, “I’m the boss here now. I can have whatever and whoever I want, especially you.” He cupped your chin for a hard kiss, “I should’ve fucked you there. I would’ve given you the fucking little teases like you deserve.”

"What stopped you?" You asked him breathlessly, sliding one hand over his shoulder to feel more of him. You started pumping him faster. "Hm? What stopped big bad Gwinam from fucking the shit out of me right outside our school? You could've tossed me on the floor, fucking me into the dirt or into the bushes with your hand over my mouth-"

He cut you off by grabbing your throat. The slender digits squeezed both sides of your neck, cutting off air but not hurting you. The pain came from the harsh slap that went across your cheek. When you cried out, he did it again to the opposite cheek. He stared at you for a moment, surveying the need written on your face. Your clit throbbed for his attention, hoping your grinding hips might clue him into that. He then slapped you again, then kissed you roughly.

"You filthy slut," he grunted against your lips. "You like that, huh?” he smacked you again, “You like being hit?”

The truth was: yes, you did. The stinging pain mingled with the desire burning inside you. Being in his strong grasp, pinned by his long body, you knew you could easily escape him. This elevated, evolved being you’ve become came with a strength you’d never known before. It made you invincible. Breaking away from him wouldn’t be a problem, yet you don’t push or thrash in his clutches. You instead spread your thighs and begin pumping him once more. From his heavy breathing, you knew you’d gotten the effect you wanted.

“Let me see for myself then.” He stuck his hand under your skirt and roughly pushed your panties aside. You gasped from the sudden invasion of his fingers on your sex. Boys touched you there before, but not like how Gwinam did. Three fingers cupped your dampening center to rub carefully up and down; he didn’t care if you let him or not, your pussy was his now. “Oh, you do enjoy this kind of thing,” he sneered, releasing your throat and grabbing at your hair instead. A quick tug and a forceful pull brought you to your knees in front of him. “I’m going to show you what I would’ve done if I’d caught you. Open.”

He prodded his tip to your lips, which opened right away. The taste of salty precum slid over your tongue and savored the sticky substance. A huge part of your fantasies finally came true. Gwinam kept his hold on your hair while he guided you over his hips. The girth of his filled your mouth completely, and his head hit your throat once or twice. It’s exactly how you imagined. You sucked the hard muscle firmly, a move that made Gwinam groan. You wanted to please him; you wanted his approval and satisfaction. It became harder to breathe once he forced you right up to his base. You gripped your knees tightly as pain started burning your throat and chest. Inhaling through your nose, you tried your best to breathe as Gwinam’s cock nearly suffocated you. You loved it. Something about his dick blocking your airway, causing you to gag and choke on it excited you. Your eyes teared up whenever he held you to him for too long, only moving his tip from your throat in short strokes. Yet, you did not object or force him away. You hummed in your throat as he moved in and out. When he mumbled about enjoying it, you kept on going. Streams of his precum and your saliva started dripping from your mouth, leaking through the corners. You pointedly rocked backward and forward so your tits jiggled for him, and you saw him eye them right away. When he pulled away, streams of it came out and you gasped for air.

“Look at you,” he groaned, tapping his wet cock on your lips and cheeks. “You love choking on dick,” he sneered, pushing his tip into your mouth once more. He kept you still with one hand under your chin and the other on the back of your head. More tears spilled down your cheeks as he fucked your throat. You started playing with your nipples, and moaned around his shaft. “Your mouth is fucking heaven,” he moaned, “Like a silk toy. Because that’s all you are…A mindless, stupid fuck toy for me to use whenever I want.”

Your muffled moans made him laugh. “And, to think, what I’ve become gives me so much more stamina than before,” he continued, shoving himself fully inside. “I can do all the dirty things I’ve wanted to do with you, and never get tired,” he withdrew himself to let you breathe, “And you know what that means, right?” As you tried swallowing the thickness in your mouth, he said, “It means you’re going to learn what happens to sluts who think they can flash their tits and ass at me. You thought you could flaunt those thighs and those tits and that ass and I’d do nothing about it? Hm?” He plunged his cock right back into your mouth, laughing as you cried. “And there’s nobody around to stop me; nobody to laugh at me about it. It’s only you and me, and you make me horny nearly every second of the day.” He thrusted rapidly, drowning out your cries with his moans. “That means you might as well not wear anything at all.”

He pulled out a final time, and watched you sputter and gasp for air. You massaged your throat, which felt hoarse and ached. Gwinam tugged your head back, and rested his balls right on your mouth. You knew exactly what to do. You took one in your mouth for a tender suck, licking your tongue over the curves and skin. Gwinam stroked himself slowly as you tongued his balls; he occasionally grinded into your face so you’d swallow the whole thing. Little moans vibrated over the sensitive skin, and Gwinam gritted his teeth. You grabbed his thighs for some stability, a thing he did not deny you, and buried your face further into his crotch. Gwinam pulled his balls away and had you lick his shaft up and down while you fondled them instead. Your pussy became so wet, you felt your juices sliding between your thighs. You loved how he used you. You loved giving yourself over to him entirely, and being the sex doll he wanted. Gwinam is the only boy you ever considered yourself fucking this way; you knew he had the ferocity, the depravity, the perversion to do it how you’d wanted. Other boys you’d managed to hook up with always showed hesitancy. Not Gwinam. You’ll be his whore and nothing else.

That was what you wanted.

Long, drawn out moans and panting preceded the thick, hot semen suddenly filling your mouth. You eagerly and greedily swallowed the substance going down your throat. It tasted delicious. Whether it was being undead or because it was Gwinam, you swallowed his whole load. Gwinam’s orgasm made him push harder and faster, making your neck and jaw burn from the pain. He didn’t stop until each drop left his tip and into your mouth. You swallowed whatever he left, even opening your mouth to let him squeeze it onto your tongue.

“You’re the perfect cum dump,” he breathed, running his tip over your lips so you’d lick off the droplets remaining. When he spotted worry in your eyes, he laughed, “Don’t worry. There’s more where that came from. Stand up,” he ordered, lifting you with little effort, and turning you around.

Excitement brought out your smile as he forced you to bend over. Your mind whirled from the thoughts going through your head. Spreading your legs, you arched your back slightly for him to see underneath. He lifted up your skirt to show your panties, and the cold air touched over your sex. No doubt he saw the wet spot pooled right in the center, since he then cupped it in his hand. Long fingers rolled up and down each inch of your sex, and stopped right at your clit. Your cotton panties, white and cheap, must be almost see through with how wet you’d made them.

“Your pussy is so fucking wet,” he moaned, one finger finding your clit and teasing it gently. “I thought about it so many times. Even today, when I jerked off during lunch, I thought of your sweet, tight cunt.”

“And I thought of your dick in it,” you admitted, whining when you felt his finger push delicately against your panties. “I want it so bad. I can’t think about anything else when I’m…I’m around you, oh fuck…”

His fingers teasing your clit only caused more wetness to develop. Gwinam then took both sides of your panties and threaded them between your buttocks and folds. A small bit covered your clit yet exposed it to him at the same time. While one hand spanked your ass cheeks, the other used the tip of his finger to pass over the sensitive nub. Streams of mewls, cries, and whimpers left your lips. Every little touch to it tightened the ball building inside your loins. He knew exactly what to do, and how to make you whine like a bitch in heat. Gwinam’s constant torture had you clawing the table and wriggling around in front of him. You thought you might cum from just the teasing alone.

“Fuck,” he hissed, “I could feel that pussy fluttering for me already.” He moved his finger side to side and threw down more sharp spanks to your ass. “I bet you’re dying to have me in there, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” you sobbed, “Yes, yes, please.”

“Please, what, slut?”

“Please fuck me,” you said, tears brimming your eyes.

“Ummm, no.”

Using both hands, Gwinam did not pull off your panties. He did not slowly peel them off and slide them to your ankles. He took the seam keeping front and back together and tore it apart. The sound of shredding fabric reached your ears. He did not remove the waistband. He only ripped it enough to expose your ass and pussy to him, leaving a long tear that went from back to front. Gwinam left your side and crouched down behind you. You felt him dangerously close to your center; you shuddered when something hot and slippery slide over your clit. Gwinam pulled the lips apart and focused his tongue there. You cried out feeling the tip circle it repeatedly; you grabbed at the table whenever he dipped beneath or on top of it slowly. The obscene lapping and slurping from below added to your uncontrollable moans. When he turned you around, your thighs immediately locked around him and with your own strength, you forced his mouth to take your clit. Gwinam gazed up in amusement, eagerly sucking and licking the cunt right in his face. He didn’t stop you from grinding over his mouth and nose; it’s not as if he’d suffocate. That was a perk of being partly dead, you guessed.

“I’ve wanted this for s-s-so long,” you said, gasping when his tongue entered your clenching and unclenching walls. “Oh god, just like that,” you started fucking his face in return, “Your tongue feels so fucking good! Ah!” his sudden grasp of your thighs with a hard smack let out a sudden squeak from you. “I’ve wanted you to fuck me for such a long time. My pussy gets wet just looking at you. I thought…I thought if I teased you, you’d give in and take me. I would’ve let you fuck me however you wanted, as long as I got your cock inside me.” You gripped his hair, soft and silky in your hand, and cried out from the pleasure he brought. “I saw you beat up Jisung, and I couldn’t help…couldn’t help touching myself to it. You being so big and long and strong-”

Gwinam interrupted you by rolling you backwards so your body curled into a c-shape. He pinned your knees to your chest as he wagged his tongue over your pussy. That’s when you came. In a blinding, gut-tensing, muscle-contracting orgasm, you came right on his face. Gwinam only growled his delight at your cum in his mouth. You bucked your hips around, the table underneath you moving slightly, and pushed into his face more. He sucked up all the juices until your clitoris turned sensitive from your climax; it didn’t stop him. Gwinam kissed down to your ass hole where his tongue moved teasingly before coming back up. You're normally concerned with him going from one hole to the other, but not anymore. You’re dead. What infections could you get from it?

“Looks like,” he said, kissing up the backs of your thighs, “We’re both going to get what we want then.”

With total ease, he pulled you to the edge of the table and onto his cock. Keeping your thighs on your stomach, Gwinam charged into you as he liked: hard and rough. The stings of pain did nothing to you. It only made you want to cum again.

“Oh my god,” he growled, squeezing your thighs tightly. “You really must be a whore to take my dick so well. You’re the perfect fuck hole; the perfect cum dump…and you’re all mine.”

“Yes, yes, I am.”

He grabbed your throat, hovering over you and making you face him as you moaned his name. Your lips parted from your constant moans, Gwinam spat into your mouth. He slapped you when you didn’t swallow it immediately. He did it a second time, and you bent to his whims. Then, he gave you another sloppy kiss. You loved the dirtiness of it all; you craved more and more of it. You’d dreamt of this moment for months; you’d desired, lusted, and fantasized about it. When Gwinam grabbed your wrists to keep you on the table, hungrily kissing you, you almost came again. His shirt brushed lightly on your clit which made you weak and shuddering. Biting down on your neck, you winced from the pain, but you knew it wouldn’t last.

“Push back on me,” he said, kissing down to your nipples where he sucked harshly. “Show me how badly you’ve wanted this dick, slut.”

Wrapping your legs around his waist, you kept Gwinam in place as you pushed your hips into his own. His thick cock stretched you pleasantly, bringing you nothing but pleasure as you drove him deep inside. Gwinam stuck out his tongue to let your nipple brush over the flat part, flicking it once or twice or sucking it for you. You purposefully made them bounce in his face which made him growl and grunt. He let go of your wrists and grabbed your tits. His tongue teasing your nipples and his dick hitting that spot inside your pussy brought you closer to another orgasm.

“Gwinam, Gwinam, I’m going to cum,” you wept, the pleasure overwhelming your body. “Oh fuck, you’re going to make me cum again.”

“Good. Do it,” he gripped you by the chin, “Cum on my dick. Do it. Now.”

The second wave made you scream. You worried undead classmates might hear you, but they must’ve been somewhere else. Not that it mattered. They didn’t touch you. Only Gwinam touched you, and he rode out your orgasm in a few thrusts. Still shivering and whimpering, Gwinam ignored your weakened state and tossed you onto the library floor. On your front, air punched out of you for a second before he was on top of you. Without warning, his fingers entered your ass, and his cock shoved into your pussy. You arched your back for him, nearly dizzy from your orgasms and his relentless abuse of your body. And then he fucked you. He fucked you exactly how you’d always wanted. The depravity of the scene made your head swim in the haze of it all. With his free hand, Gwinam gripped your throat so your head lifted from the floor. The slight pressure cut your airway, but not enough that you’d suffocate completely.

“I’m going to cum in all your holes,” he huffed, his fingers knuckle deep in your ass while his dick filled you. “You’re going to be limping out of this library with cum dripping from you. I only wish everyone was alive…then they can see what a fucking…fucking…fucking whore YN is!”

More cum squirted into your pussy, and you couldn’t be bothered to protest. You accepted every drop. “Please cum in me,” you cried, fists underneath you and humping his cock, “Please. I want you to fill each one, please.”

“Don’t worry. You’ll be more than filled,” he grunted, going faster and harder like before.

In a few more strokes, he finished his second orgasm. You took a moment to notice that he did not need a small refractory period. A surprise perk to being dead, you supposed. Not even taking a moment to breathe, Gwinam removed his fingers from your ass and laid back on the floor. You knew immediately what he wanted. You turned around to stuff his coated cock in your mouth, slobbering over it to make it wet as possible. Gwinam groaned, hands going through his hair as pleasure came over him again. A part of you wanted to stay there, cleaning his cock of your combined juices until he came again, but you knew what your lover really wanted. When his cock was prepared, you turned your back to him and sunk down on it…with your ass. This new tightness had Gwinam cursing and moaning your name. You leaned forward, broken panties and skirt over your hips so he’d have a perfect view of your ass, and bounced as much as you could.

Being undead left you stronger and faster. Before, you could never properly ride a guy. Your body felt too heavy and you worried you’d hurt them somehow. Not Gwinam. He handled you with ease, and you had no trouble riding him. You wanted him to cum again. You enjoyed his deep, throaty groans and the names he called you. He dominated you and you couldn’t help but submit. He went back to smacking and grabbing your ass while you touched your soaked, hard clit again. If anyone came upon you two, it’d certainly be a feast for the eyes. The feeling of him fully driving into you, stretching and filling you, drove you wild. You did whatever you could to milk more cum from him.

“Stay still,” he ordered, and you stopped at once. Luckily, it was for him to continue the pace on his own. “Your ass is as good as your pussy, fuck,” he panted, grabbing your hair to pull you backwards, “I could fuck this forever.”

“I wish you would,” you replied, meeting his hips nevertheless so loud smacking sounds filled the space. “I want to be a good toy and make you cum.”

“Oh my god,” he grunted, “Say that again. Say it.”

“I want to be a good toy and make you cum.”

“Then make me cum, slut. Come on,” he smacked your ass hard, “Make me cum with that fat, round…oh fuck, yes, yes, like that-”

The sheer motion of him cumming in your ass had you joining him. You kept going, not feeling exhausted at all. In fact, it heightened every sense. Everything became clearer, and the hunger nestled inside you had you slamming down on him. Once you drained him of cum, Gwinam still did not stop. He seemed incapable of it, and you did not complain. Rolling you onto your side, hands on your breasts, he used one leg to spread your thighs and sink back into your pussy. He let you continue your third orgasm on your own, rubbing your clit and pinching your nipples. You screamed once more as the climax truly hit you this time. Gwinam smacked your clit a few times during it, the light stings having you saying his name. He put you into a scissor position, the new angle driving home and leaving you senseless beneath him. Squelching sounds told you that his cum mixed with yours, and leaked out of your sex. You almost felt it pooling underneath him in every thrust. The new pace and position had you screaming his name a fourth time, and his own soon followed.

You did this for a while. It felt as if all those months of repressed feelings and sexual frustration exploded into this unrelenting, insatiable bomb. You couldn’t stop. You both bit, clawed, slapped, spat and growled throughout the day. Yes, the day. It was a thing you didn’t think possible until you’d turned into this half-human, half-zombie lifeform. Gwinam took you on every possible surface: the tables, chairs, against bookshelves and cabinets. It continued even against the glass doors where the bloody, snarling, stumbling and shuffling zombies went right by. The most exciting was when he fucked you right in the hallway, having you on all fours as he grunted about people watching you both. Pure bliss. That’s all it was.

Fantasies do come true.

***

A/N: wow, this one is wild! lol it's one of my longer pieces, but I hope you still enjoyed this. It's my first Gwinam fic, and I'm really proud of it. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed it <3

[sketch-guardian]

Both Angel and RAD classmates learning very early on that Mc saying “fuck it” or some variation of “fuck it” as in “fuck it we ball” “chucked/chucking it into the fuck it bucket” means something horrible is gonna happen not to them but some poor asshole of a demon they hear it and just slowly turn there heads to Mc before all hell breaks loose and Mc has a demon in a choke hold cussing them,their mother,their grandmother,their sister their great grandma etc basically Mc being a menace and not giving a single f if the demon or whoever is several heads taller and bigger they will win

I like how your MC wakes up every morning and chooses violence😂but considering what they're forced to endure every day, I'd say it's the least that can happen🙈I'll do my best to write good headcanons, sorry for the delay by the way😥:

"RAD CLASSMATES+NEW EXCHANGE STUDENTS WITH A MC WHO IS A MENACE"

DEMYA

Demya is quite the troublemaker and unlikely to back down from a challenge, so if she ever got into a fight, she would more than willingly fight tooth and nail, with adrenaline pumping through her veins, someone would just have to check she doesn't give a few too many bites. Being probably as much of a menace as MC, Demya would immediately understand from their words, almost as if they were a signal/warning, that a mess was about to break out and would rush to cheer for MC, finding their fighting style quite attractive, after all in her culture, flirting was mainly about showing off strength to prove oneself worthy as a mate. Demya would only intervene aggressively if MC was in trouble, even growling, but otherwise, she would congratulate them on their victory, exchanging a few hugs and kisses, especially on any bruises or scars. Furthermore, it's likely that they would escape before suffering any consequences, giggling like crazy

DOMNRA/MOBIM

Domnra isn't considered a delinquent without a reason, he sometimes gets into trouble and beatings with other annoying demons wouldn't necessarily be new, although he tries to be careful and avoid fighting with Mobim nearby, as the little curse would not approve and get scared. Domnra would immediately sense from MC's exclamations that a fight would break out soon and for once, both for fun and to release tension, Domnra would decide with a pointed smile to join MC in the fight, coordinating like a team, as partners in crime, while Mobim, safely on the sidelines, would cover its eye, clearly in distress, not wanting anyone to get hurt. It's likely that Domnra and MC would then end up in detention, together with Mobim, who would need lots of comfort, but it would be worth it in the end

AZUL

Azul is a chatterbox more than anything, an extrovert who loves attention and entertainment, although he has his quiet days due to his mood swings, so he wouldn't be a problematic student per se, apart from stupid jokes or moments of carelessness. If someone were to provoke MC, usually Azul, in order to avoid involving them and getting them into trouble, would roll up his sleeves, saying something like "I'm sorry dear, but I have to go and make a scene-" before publicly humiliating the other demon, making them lose the will to be seen around Devildom. At MC's first warning and swears, Azul would be slightly confused, thinking it was just their way of expressing themselves, but as soon as the fight broke out, he would let out a whistle and grimace at the sight of some blows, obviously rooting for MC. In the end, Azul would say that he found their attitude badass and that he wouldn't mind witnessing it again, as long as it doesn't bother their health too much. Azul would put some cute band-aids on MC's wounds as well

ZURI

Zuri is a reserved and diligent student in class, she doesn't speak often so conflicts are quite rare, however when they do happen, they are mostly resolved either through words or hypnotic powers in particularly tedious cases. MC would give Zuri a huge headache, not only due to their bad language, but also because of their tendency to get into physical fights with other demons. Not only MC would risk getting hurt, but also ruin their clothes and pay the consequences of their actions. If the situation degenerated greatly, Zuri would intervene with her hypnotic ability to ward off the offending demon and then, despite herself, she would try to put in a good word with the teachers for MC, to prevent them from getting into further trouble. Once home Zuri would criticize MC's recklessness while tending to their wounds, she would even raise an eyebrow, asking in exasperation if it was all part of a plan to impress her. Although it might result quite repetitive, Zuri would point out to MC that she won't always be able to be there to defend them if needed, so they should try to manage such outbursts better during lessons. Zuri would let out a soft praise if she noticed MC actually wanting her approval that badly

ODON

Odon technically, given their age, shouldn't even be in RAD, however there is always time to learn new things, it is also a strategy to try to meet more people and make new friends. The swears shouted by MC to another demon that they apparently are about to beat up would leave Odon slightly astonished, but they would not necessarily intervene, especially because a single glare from the eldritch abomination would be enough for the demon to back down. Odon would smile in a innocent way, but in the eyes of others they would still look like a murderer due to their big grin, making the demon in question regret all their life choices and beg MC for mercy. It wouldn't happen very often for MC to get involved in combat, considering Odon's reputation, but either way, they would show care in treating any wounds and wouldn't meddle too much in MC's affairs if they don't feel like talking, Odon would find MC's menacing nature by the way pretty endearing, except for the foul language almost used as a summoning circle

REMIEL

Remiel is a curious, innocent angel, such vocabulary does not belong to her and if not required for the sake of balance then she tries to avoid violence, usually resorting to words and deeds, furthermore seeing an upset angel of death would be both rare and disturbing, so many demons wouldn't be willing to risk it, despite her tender and somber appearance. Remiel wouldn't know many swear words, so at the beginning she wouldn't understand that MC is predicting the arrival of a disaster, over time she would learn to make the association between exclamations and facts, then she would gently try to dissuade MC from fighting, especially if the demon was sincere about their will to redeem themselves. MC's would also slightly remind Remiel of her uncle, Strife, due to their quirky personality

NATHANIEL

Nathaniel is extremely calm and docile, so much so that he is often mistaken for a statue, otherwise he's pretty chill and would let out a soft tired sigh at MC's swears, already expecting the worst from them. At the start of the fight, Nathaniel would watch the scene shrugging his shoulders and whistling as if nothing had happened if someone asked him to intervene, being an angel, in case MC had the worst, only in that case would Nathaniel get involved in the fight, blocking those directly involved from beating each other, even offering alternative solutions to the conflict, like a teacher or monk passing on his life lessons. Nathaniel's tested patience would be unnerving to see

URIEL

If you think Uriel would intervenes by seeing MC beating a demon senseless with the intent of stopping them, then you are very wrong. Uriel sometimes still feels resentment/prejudice towards demons, so she would be proud to see MC in action fighting one with their bare hands, a clear sign of their abilities, however she would not approve of such profanities expressed before the mess, finding them blasphemous, unnecessary and an offense against the doctrine of the Celestial Realm. Uriel would probably justify MC's actions and think about improving their technique or catchphrase. If the situation got out of hand, Uriel would obviously intervene with her sword to defend MC