#and fucking still people have the audacity to say that they don't know if i like them
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it's so funny (read: sad) that if bigoted fuckheads didn't insist i was a woman simply by virtue of my body at birth, i'd probably be chill with she/her pronouns in addition to he/they. if my mom didn't insist i was her daughter, i'd probably let her call me that, and we could still have a relationship.
i'm nonbinary and 'gendered' words are hypothetically meaningless, but because there are so many people who are more interested in telling me who i am rather than lovingly and curiously letting me express my own sense of self, those words carry trauma.
there's no reason a nonbinary person like myself can't be a son and a child and a daughter. there's no reason a nonbinary person like me can't go by he, they, and she.
'she' is not a slur. 'daughter' is not derogatory. 'beautiful' 'pretty' 'gorgeous' 'feminine' are not insults.
to the contrary, they're parts of language that express certain facets of a multi-faceted human existence, like mine.
and i have this sad, mournful feeling that if it weren't for unloving, condescending people, i'd probably be down to be called any of those things alongside my usual masculine/neutral terminology.
but i'd rather die than let anyone tell me what i have to be called.
#i try to reclaim 'feminine' words for myself in private#calling myself 'babygirl' when i need to chill out. or saying i feel pretty. or going 'she needs help' when i'm struggling lmao.#but there's still so much fucking trauma in those words from the people who've forced them on me#who've snarled in my face that GOD made me ONE THING and ONE THING ONLY and that's a WOMAN (stepdad)#who've guilted me for taking their precious perfect daughter away as if i'm fucking dead (mother)#who've mocked me and everyone like me as if we're not the experts on our own sense of self (general transphobic public)#like. i'm not a fucking man. i'm not a fucking woman. i'm nonbinary. gender is absurdity as a concept. i'm done with it.#but being called a man or a son or a guy or 'he' or WHATEVER in that vein is fine and dandy because i've never had anyone say#'that is all you can EVER be'. or worse: 'that is what GOD made you to be and you have a ROLE to fill'#(christianity pls die approximately yesterday thanku 💖)#so yeah. idk. ranting yet again about Cis Audacity.#the complete lack of empathy. the lack of curiosity even.#the condescending bullshit. the 'i understand you better than you do'. the fucking AUDACITY.#i am the expert on myself. i am the ONLY expert on myself. period. no contest. not a debate.#i understand myself better than anyone else is CAPABLE of understanding me.#i could call myself 'she' and understand that i meant it in a nonbinary way.#in fact i could even see myself letting other trans people call me feminine terms at some point in the future. when i've healed more.#but cis people? probably not. they can call me 'he' or 'they' or they can fuck off & never get to know me because they don't wanna know ME#/end rant#any terfs/bigots that try to touch this post will be swiftly blocked and quite possibly cursed. have the day you deserve <3
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the way i try so SO hard to gain even a crumb of body neutrality only to then see some shit on twitter that remind me that oh yeah. a distinct portion of the population genuinely believes they are being discriminated against when they have to look at or be within 50 feet of a fat person
#the amount of times ive heard my skinny friends call themselves fat and disgusting to my face without considering the implications#i saw some tweet that just like. had a fat person in the video and ALL of the responses were men making fun of her#like. yes i realize my life would be so much better if i was born with a faster metabolism. thank you for reminding me#yes i realize i am not treated seriously because i am fat#that sort of incredulous look skinny people give you when you have the audacity to sit near them on the bus or ask for directions#like they're shocked you weren't some round thing that was in their sights for 2 seconds to make fun but disappeared#i am trying very hard not to let it get to me but when so many people seem to think the same thing it feels stupid#likei know i dont see people the way allosexuals do but are fat people really so disgusting that they feel like they can say shit like that#its so so frustrating#if i am going to die alone because of my own failings i can learn to accept that#but if i die alone because i can't find anybody that doesn't think fat people are worthless then what is the fucking point lmao#''people irl dont actually think that'' i cant count on 1 hand the amount of skinny people who have lamented about their weight to my face#someone brings in cookies to work and as im eating one someone skinny says ''well. i really don't need the extra calories so ill pass''#someone skinny checking out diet/exercise books because they ''REALLY have to lose some weight''#no they aren't talking about me/to me but how detached from your surroundings do you have to be to shit on yourself for your weight#like. even if i was skinny they're still talking about how gross and ugly they are around kids#''love your body and your self!!!1!!1'' okay then stop calling yourself disgusting regardless of how much you weigh.#you can think if if you want but god that 12 year old girl in line behind you is going to remember that forever#she is going to internalize ''oh okay. thats what a disgusting body looks like''#andthen she'll grow up and hate herself and continue the fucking cycle#just stop. stop talking about your weight around kids. i dont need 60 yo women telling me they're gross when they weigh maybe 150 lbs#i know this is super unhealthy but i literally cannot wait until i can move out and isolate myself from society#because every second i try to engage with it is literal torture#yall are so mean for no reason#i dont really have much to live for#but it would be helpful if skinny people didn't constantly reiterate that there's no point to living if you aren't skinny#im so tired#vent
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my disappointment is immeasureable
#this is about h*llena taylor#THIS WOMAN... the audacity she has is fucking incredible#the way she lied so shamelessly knowing damn well nothing she was saying was true#and encouraged the fans who have been waiting for YEARS to boycott the game#because PG couldn't pay her the ridiculous amount of money the greedy bitch wanted#PEOPLE CANCELLED THEIR PREORDERS OVER THIS#because she played the victim so well and tried to guilt trip ppl by saying you aren't true Bayonetta fans if u don't support ME#who the fuck does she think she is holy shit#i hate that i tried to defend her all this time#i wasn't about to cancel my preorder just cause she said so but i did try to take her side#and even after being publicly exposed as the fucking liar she is SHE STILL WANTS US TO BOYCOTT THE GAME#GIRL FUCK YOU like full offense you are a terrible person the Bayonetta franchise gave you everything?????#it's quite literally her only role and she was so ready to throw the games under the bus out of spite#she's so childish and immature i'm genuinely still so shocked#i mean how were we supposed to know she was lying she broke her contract ALL to make the game flop#imagine going to such lengths. you literally ruined your career for such petty thing#i hate her so much rn. the last thing this franchise needed is another fucking controversy#all my support to jennifer hale who had to even deal with h*llena talking shit about her bc she took 'her' role#i mean bitch what did you expect!! PG tried to keep you in the role all they could but nope. you had to ask for more#A LOT MORE#ugh. anyway glad the truth is out#i did think the timing was too perfect and the way she spoke about jennifer was despicable but man......... she really lied about everything#what a snob#delete later
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MAN OH FUCKING MAN those self shipping blogs and their mutuals are so fucking CUTE and WHOLESOME when they put on events and whatnot. i lurk on some of the most adorable interactions. i still can't understand why people make it their personal issue to harass and make rude posts shit talking people who self-ship. THESE CUTE ASS PEOPLE????? who are they hurting????? this girl says her f/o makes her hot apple cider when it's cold even though doesn't like she doesn't turn it down because it's his favorite and he always lights up when he brings it to her !!!!!!!! Sure, i can see where some lame ass with 0 imagination would go "???? what you mean babe? he's litchrally not even real like-' but bitch that's the point- THIS SHIT IS SO ADORABLE!
Oh oh! And this one guy answered this question about who between him and his f/o prefers hot chocolate and he was deadass was like ever since he accidentally burned his f/o with a mug of hot chocolate once he doesn’t want to retramatize him but they do go out for hot chocolate in cafes every once in a while! THAT'S SO FUCKING CUTE BITCH SHUT THE FUCK UP RIGHT THE FUCK NOW I SWEAR TO GOD IMMA CHOKE SOMEBODY-
#man i love to see people writing what they wanna write#but I've learned some shit lately that's made me realize how harsh people can be toward xreader and selfship blogs#and idk if it's because i ran an xreader blog and in the past an imagines blog#but sometimes when i come across those mean ass posts and i read the stuff people say about it i just think. . .#how fucking sad and unimaginative must you be to 1) go out of your way to hate on someone else work#and 2) this work of writing can be an outlet just like any other#im not the type to leave mean comments do maybe that's why it's so hard for me to 'get it'#but the way i see is this#if you at your big age are harassing people for selfshipping and writing xreader shit- regardless of whether you deem it good or not#(bc that's a different discussion)#i see you no differently than the people who were harrassing people for having ocs what- 10 years ago?#we seem to have gotten better about ocs lately- and that's great and I'm so proud of us#but those of us who grew up in that still hold alot of anxiety about sharing our ocs BECAUSE we remember what it was like#to have ocs picked apart scrutinized and picked apart bit by bit (god help them if they were female) for daring to interact with canon cast#i know how much work i put into building my ocs- and i know that when i have the 'audacity' to ship one of them with a male character#they need to be twice as good to stand up near them just so i don't get harassed about it#I'm lucky to be in such a small fandom but I'd be lyin if i said that once i realized how big majima was in this fandom i wasnt discouraged#im not saying that people can't NOT like things- everyone is entitled to not like things#that's not what I'm saying at all#but I've witnessed these blogs- these selfshipping blogs who generally ship themselves with one particular character#(generally someone I've never even heard of) get harassed and told how their f/o isn't real/ how they should get a grip/how they're creepy#this that and the third....#and idk man that shit's not right#i see it and it makes me sick to my stomach#these people are minding their own business and someone buds in and decides that they're gonna try to deter them for funsies#i HAVE seen a self-ship blog gone wrong one run by someone in need of lots and lots of very serious help#she was in a former fandom (i won't name it because it'd be easy to find i think and people flocked to watch her for spectacle)#she had some of the same mental issues as i do plus schiz but she wouldn't seek treatments#she hurt herself regularly because He told her to#but these people?!?! they're talking about kissing and holding hands and tucking their f/os in before bed
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can i just.. die
#ventpost dni#'it felt like u didn't wanna talk'#god i fucking hate that sentence#like so fucking much#fucking war flashbacks or something ugh#how the fuck do people do friendships i am so mad i can't do this shit at all#how tf is the person im friends with more insecure than me fucking always#like don't i show it enough#ugh all the time i feel like oh no im being too much im being clingy im being annoying#and fucking still people have the audacity to say that they don't know if i like them#like what the fuck do i do#how do i make my feelings reach them#is adulting just fucking trying and trying and endless fucking trying and getting nowhere#cause that's how it's been past year and more#in every goddamn aspect of life#studies relationships friendships fucking 'healing'#with this girl in the ss ugh it was so fucking good i thought we were friends wtf but i asked her if she went to college today and she was#like dude i moved colleges so i was like wtf u didn't even tell me and she said that as response#god i feel so angry like FUCKING angry and tired and just done#19 years and i still don't fucking know how to read people how to gauge interest how to make them stay#ugh we didn't even talk except exams but i still feel so fucking betrayed#i told her i was bi and she was like im so happy u trust me with this back when we met#literally it's like jitna bhi vulnerable u get it doesn't matter everyone i love will just be sooo insecure that they'd just rather leave#me then try to stay and fix things#fuck them honestly#and fuck me for still missing them#ugh#mes
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hi!! I have a request for james potter (this is something that happened to me recently and it made me so upset). Could you do mean!gf (being mean is her love language and someone tells her that shes a bad girlfriend to james, but james knows that its her love language) and she asks james if shes a bad gf??? like angst/comfort kinda
You pose the question over dinner, but perhaps that's unfair seeing as James feels the need to gape at it, and his meal succumbs to the unforgiving force of gravity. An obscene half-chewed lump of rice and beans escapes his mouth and he apologizes hurriedly for the mess, still struggling to comprehend what you've sprung upon him.
"Shit- say that again?" He asks, scrubbing fruitlessly at the brown stain on his blue shirt, napkin wet with condensation from his glass.
"Am I a bad girlfriend?" You repeat, each letter striking an axe against your heart until you're sure it'll crack with a jagged edge like you're a Saturday morning cartoon.
"No, I did hear you correctly the first time," James concludes, mumbling more to himself than to you and grimacing at the sheer audacity of your words, "I- darling, I don't really know what to say to that. I mean- fuck no, 'f course, but- but why are you asking? What made you think that?"
"Someone told me I was," You shrug, your fork looking rather sullen as you drag it listlessly around the salsa on your plate that's leaked from the soft tortilla layer of your burrito.
"Who?"
"Doesn't matter. Someone who knows us. That's what matters."
"Did they tell you why?" James asks, careful not to prod at their identity, even if that's on the forefront of his mind.
"'Said I'm always mean to you." You murmur, "And- and I think I am."
"You're not mean to me," James scrunches his nose, confusion filling the wrinkles that appear there, "But- well, you're not always mean to me, but I like it when you are."
"It's not funny." You tell James, decidedly somber even in the wake of his reassurance, "I called you dumb the other day."
"Well, darling, I had been boxing with the toaster because it wouldn't toast my bread, and you came up behind me and informed me that it wasn't plugged in. That was dumb."
You bite your lip, and James hopes you're withholding a smile.
"Well. That was dumb, but you aren't. And you're not any of the other mean things I say about you, either."
"I like it when you're mean to me." He repeats, "You're nice to the people you don't like, and you're mean to the people you do like. You're just a bit like a broken compass, darling, but I'd walk south for miles if I was following you."
In order to avoid splitting your lip open with the harsh force of your bite you chew words instead, and spit them out, "You're cheesy."
"And you're mean," James grins, "But that's the way I like you, and y'can't be a bad girlfriend if I like the way you are."
#james potter x reader#james potter imagine#james potter scenario#james potter oneshot#james potter one shot#james potter one-shot#james potter headcanon#james potter headcanons#james potter hc#james potter hcs#james potter fanfiction#james potter fanfic#james potter fic#james potter blurb#james potter drabble#james potter dialogue#james potter fluff#james potter x reader fanfiction
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Hey, isn't it so..."Great" that Viv is out here liking posts that clearly find moments where Angel is being sexual with his rapist "Hot" How much more telling can this all get, right? We really sit here, having to explain how fucked up it is to take SA, try to tackle it "seriously" but then proceed to not even do it for that reason. Only for it to be for angst and goon material. How do you expect me to SIT HERE and take whatever Viv has to offer seriously? The number of people I have seen trying to justify this gross behavior is abysmal. If you have this kink or whatever, fine not like I can stop you, be into that shit somewhere else, but DO NOT try and TACKLE IT only for it to be not even seen as serious or as a way for you to get off to your sick fantasies.
Why the hell would you like this? "Angel with his abusive rapist boss😝, so hot guys! Can'tstop thinking about it!"
What good reason would Viv have in liking this post? Why do over 4k people find a post like this neat? "Oh they're fictional, it's gucci, stop bitching" wouldn't need to bitch if people didn't outright sexualize moments meant to tackle an irl fucking problem.
By the way, this person ships Angel and Valentino together. Their pinned tweet is legit sexual Val and Angel art. I wouldn't recommend attacking them regardless if you disagree with their ships and what they deem...ugh "hot."
Fair warning to I WILL be showing some of their arts and reblogs as evidence, so if you are not into that sort of thing (anything NSFW), I highly recommend scrolling past my post or past this section of it.
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I'm pretty sure Viv actively searches for this sort of thing on Twitter, like it's PAINFULLY obvious that she does. How you just so happen to like a post clear af lusting for this abusive relationship YOU CLAIMED to take seriously that ALSO happens to be from an account that ships the abuser with the victim? Gtfo with your two-faced shit, just say your find this hot instead of lying your absolute ass off. The audacity for some fans to go after one group of people for liking questionable stuff only to let other questionable things slide. Like homie, you can let rape slide, but draw the line for any other questionable thing? How's about you have that energy for EVERYTHING with your hypocritical asses. Ion wanna hear y'all stank ass make callouts if you're okay with a rapist being shipped with someone he actively harms in various ways.
And Viv
You say this entire sequence is meant to be uncomfortable, meant to not sugar-coat how awful this situation is, and supposedly have people who are victims/survivors themselves, yet here you are liking posts from people who do anything but take it seriously and even sexualize it. That's absolutely insane to me. And reminds me how you were drooling over some pins that glamorize the abuse Angel and supposedly Husk goes through, you know, the same character that COMPARED his abuse with Angel's.
Ah yes, let's downplay how horrible Angel's situation is further, shall we? Let's especially do it after adamantly arguing with other SA survivors who "haven't seen the episode yet" and need to shut up or don't watch 😃. Let's ignore the fact that Husk and Angel's situations STILL aren't comparable but it's still very odd to have pins on TWO situations taken seriously in the show. So do you actually view the situations seriously or not Viv???
God she's....actually fucking stupid and horrid.
#vivziepop critical#vivziepop criticism#anti spindlehorse#anti vivziepop#hazbin hotel critical#hazbin hotel criticism#hazbin critical#hazbin fandom critical#hazbin hotel#hazbin valentino#hazbin angel dust
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how they eat you out
cw: somnophilia (Satoru), degradation (Toji)
Choso:
He aims to please. Will lay between your legs until you're a crying begging mess. He doesn't believe in using his fingers when eating you out. No, no, he knows how to use that tongue. And he makes sure you know that. He's a chronic people pleaser, putting your pleasure first....every single time. He'll guide you through your second orgasm, holding your thighs open with a vice grip. All the while he's still fully clothed and painfully hard. But he doesn't care. Your cries and moans are like a symphony to his ears, and he never wants it to end.
"God, you're so beautiful like this." "Think you can do another one for me, baby? C'mon, yes you can. Mmm, there's a good girl."
Kento:
Oh boy. After a long hard day of work, Kento wants nothing more than to take care of his girl. You'd want to treat him, having dinner ready for him when he gets home, but he has an entirely different meal in mind. With no more than a grunted greeting, he'd be tossing you up onto the counter and down on his knees before the front door even closes. Strong hands shoving your panties aside, gripping your thighs to translate his fiery passion to you.
"Fuck....m'sorry, darling. Just-mm-need you." "Been thinking 'bout you all day, darling. Maybe I'll call in sick tomorrow, hm? Spend all day with you. How does that sound? Ah, ah, use your words."
Megumi:
He wants it to be perfect. Every. Goddamn. Time. He'll look up at you with those alluring eyes, tongue nestled between your folds, and have the audacity to ask if he's doing okay. Won't add any fingers unless you explicitly ask him to. You just sound so sexy when you're desperate, who can blame him? Lord help you if you ask him to stop, because unless you say the safe word, he won't do any such thing.
"Want me to what? Sorry, couldn't hear you, baby. Gotta speak up." "Another finger? But you're already shaking. You really think you can handle it?" "You sound beautiful. That's it, say my name again."
Satoru:
He's literally obsessed with you. The way your back arches when he flicks his tongue over your clit. How you whisper-scream his name as he slides his fingers through your wet folds. The gentle tug you give his hair, getting tighter as you get closer and closer to the edge. But he's especially obsessed with having you first thing in the morning, before your eyes even open.
"Shit, y/n. So wet f'me even when you're sleeping? Dirty girl." "Hm? Oh, awake already? Mm, don't worry, baby. Just relax."
Suguru:
He's ready to pounce at a moment's notice. If you do so much as swing your hips a little too much as you walk by him, he's tying up his hair and you know you're in trouble. He doesn't even want full on sex all the time, just some time between your legs and he's good for another couple hours. Like a starved man, he'll twist and slide his tongue in ways that have you breathless in a matter of seconds. He'll spew obscenities until you're shaking and crying, then go back to whatever he was doing like nothing happened.
"So fucking sweet, love." "Thought you could prance around in that new skirt and I wouldn't wanna tear it off you?" "God, you're gonna be the death of me." "Need this pussy like fucking oxygen."
Sukuna:
Obviously uses it to get himself off, I mean, come on. Loves to make a night out of it. Ties you up, spread eagle to the corners of the mattress. Blindfolds you, gags you with your own soaking panties. You know the safe word, so he doesn't dare stop. Not after the first orgasm....or the second....or the third. Plowing you through wave after wave of endless ecstasy. Begging doesn't work. Crying for sure doesn't work. Everything seems to spur him on.....
"Such a needy baby, asking for more when I've already given you three." "Oh, you want me to stop? I just don't think that's true, princess. Look at how wet you still are. Go ahead, taste yourself on my fingers. Suck."
Toji:
Mean, mean MEAN. But so very loving at the same time. Knows that his insults only get you off faster. He loves nothing more than to have you sprawled out on the couch, naked, just because he asked you. Your fingers gripping his hair like your life depended on it, pushing him deeper into your needy, pulsing cunt. There's not a feeling quite like it in the whole world.
"All this just for me? Oh, darling you're spoiling me." "Such a good fucking slut, hm? Love it when I hold you down like this, don't you?" "Good sluts get three fingers. You wanna be a good slut, right, darling?"
Yuji:
Baby boy just wants you to be happy. Studied you like a final exam the first couple times, learned what you liked and what you really liked. He loves the way your eyes roll back when he rubs circles over your hardened nipples. How your legs start to shake right before you cum. How speechless he can make you after just a few gentle licks.
"Yeah? That feel good, baby?" "God, I love you like this." "No, no, please don't pull away. Let me give you another one, please?"
masterlist <3
#jjk smut#jujitsu kaisen smut#kamo choso smut#choso kamo smut#choso smut#kento nanami smut#nanami kento smut#nanami smut#fushiguro megumi smut#megumi fushiguro smut#megumi smut#satoru gojo smut#gojo satoru smut#gojo smut#suguru geto smut#geto suguru smut#geto smut#sukuna ryomen smut#ryomen sukuna smut#sukuna smut#toji zenin smut#zenin toji smut#toji fushiguro smut#fushiguro toji smut#toji smut#yuji itadori smut#itadori yuji smut#yuji smut
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I really just want to fucking vomit when I see other Jews denounce us and curse our names to be forgotten, knowing that this kind of insult is reserved for literal nazis- just because we have, principles.
Yitgadal v’yitkadash sh’mei raba b’alma di-v’ra chir’utei.
I don't know, I feel like I am going insane, living my life under the fascist duterte regime, I know my own kind can be depraved, cruel and brutal. I also have lived my life as someone who was more "jew-ish" rather than "actual jew", and I've been excluded and denied for my appearance and upbringing. I know Israel banned Yiddish and Yiddish literature but when put in scrutiny then suddenly the shoah is brought up multiple times. I've known Israel to treat white converts so much better than they treat Ethiopian Jews and other Jews of color, but when a white convert was kiIled, she was not allowed to be buried in a Jewish cemetery. Ultimately, apartheid relies on Jews knowing only one monolithic and artificial identity rather than the rich and diverse cultures we have in diaspora- Israel depends on Jews being afraid and clinging to it as indoctrinated cash cows to continue to remain beneficial to the global north, whom are funding their military.
I'm in tears thinking about how Israelis have told me I had no right to wear my magen David for having the audacity to fucking weep over the ark of bodies left before the world to see. How can so many call this bastardization judaism. How can so much of jewry turn up their noses over this. I've seen Israel do literally the same things that the duterte regime has done to fellow filipinos, I've seen both deny human rights and try to get any forces that work for human rights decommissioned, I've seen bodies pile up high because their families were too much in danger to claim them and give them proper burials, and I've seen both filipinos and israeli jews say "where is the proof that this brutality is happening" or "not nearly enough have died.", n the fact that people who have literally argued with holocaust deniers still have the audacity to say "hm! This sounds like a conspiracy! It must be fake!" When human rights watch themsleves have confirmed that idf forces left literal babies to melt into their mattresses, when the American government themselves bragged about sending exploding meat grinders to Israel, when random journalists keep having to find someone else from Gaza to be interviewed because the one they were supposed to talk with died from carpet bombing or whatever else. And so much more. Your own can do depraved and immoral things, and judaism says that you cannot stand for this cruelty. You must not!! Judaism is and will always be the antithesis of inaction!!
I know people from Egypt and people from Lebanon feel complicit just from not being able to do enough, how can so many Jews say nothing to a genocide literally being done in our names, by an ethnostate that ultimately will not care about us. Why HaShem, why is this happening!!
Y’hei sh’lama raba min sh’maya, v’hayim, aleinu v’al koi yisrael, v’imru amen.
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Teach Me Your Touch - Michael Gavey x Reader
HELAELAEMOND’S KINKTOBER
thank you @arcielee for the banner!
Pairing: Michael Gavey x f!reader
Word count: 3k
Summary: You missed a lecture and have your classmate Michael Gavey share his notes and help you catch up. He's not good at teaching, and he makes you feel stupid. He makes you feel bad. When you cry, he wants to fuck you all better.
Content warning(s): light elements of bullying (prior to smut), feelings of intellectual inferiority
KINK CATEGORIES: public sex, crying, inexperience/loss of virginity (male), fingering (female receiving)
Rating: E
Tagging those who showed interest: @llemes @assortedseaglass @sapphire-writes @theoneeyedprince @ewanmitchellcrumbs @humanpurposes @underjeno @st-eve-barnes @arcielee @babyblue711
Michael's voice is snappy. "Are you listening to me?"
You look up at him in defeat. "Yes, I'm trying! But I don't-"
"I can't make it any clearer!"
You lean forward on the table and rest your head in your hands. "You're making me feel stupid."
He huffs. "Maybe you are."
Arsehole. Why did you even ask him for his help? You know he's a dickhead, but he's also smart. Last semester, you worked on a group project with him and although he was terrible working with other people, his understanding of the subject was unmatched. He's like a walking calculator, for God's sake, and that intellect seems to apply to every module.
Besides, last time, he had a mean streak, but he also seemed to soften with you. You're not exactly a bombshell, but you're still a woman, and he's a lonely man. You were kind to him last time you worked together, and it made him kinder, too.
Whatever rapport once existed between you, though, seems to have faded. Now, you're sat on the second floor of Radcliffe library under the tall arched ceilings at 2am. No one else is around to see your shame, thankfully.
It's been a long time since you've felt simple. You shouldn't feel stupid - you're on the same course as him! You only missed one lecture! It shouldn't be this hard!
"You're not making it easy to understand," you mumble.
"What?" he asks, irritated.
You lift your head and look at him, eyes red. "My mind doesn't work as quick as yours. I need you to explain it differently."
He blinks at you from behind his thick glasses, and you watch as he swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing above his buttoned collar. "Right. Fine. You did the reading, and you understand that a tangled hierarchy is a hierarchical consciousness system in which a strange loop appears. Right?"
Clenching your jaw, you nod. "That much I understand, Michael. I'm not as simple as you think."
"I don't think you're simple. I think you're acting simple."
It's too late and you're too tired. Hot tears spill down your cheeks. "You're acting mean."
"What?" He has the audacity to look shocked. "I'm helping!"
"No, you're not." You stand up and shove your notes into your rucksack hastily, along with your pens and library copy of the required reading. "You've spent the last three hours making me feel stupid and small and unintelligent, and you've enjoyed every second."
"No!" he protests angrily. "Don't tell me how I feel!"
"Alright! Well, that's how you've made me feel! And that's not fair! God, I really thought-" You cut yourself off and take a deep breath. But you're still crying, and it's embarrassing, and you furiously wipe away your tears. They're quickly replaced.
Michael stands up and follows you as you stalk off down the rows and rows of bookcases. He calls your name, but you ignore him. It's loathsome how hearing him say it gives you butterflies. "Will you just wait?" he shouts.
You whirl around to face him, making your rucksack fall off your shoulder and onto the floor. The noise echoes in the cavernous library, and you're suddenly very aware of how empty it is of other people. It didn't bother you before. It doesn't exactly bother you now, either, but... but there's something intense about the way he looks at you. It's angry, it's apprehensive, it's... it makes your skin crawl.
"What is it, Michael?" you ask. You're caught somewhere between anger and weariness.
"It's not my fault you feel stupid," he says defiantly.
"For the love of-"
"Because you're not stupid. You're just acting it. Like I said."
"Is that supposed to make me feel better?"
He swallows. "Yes. You're not as smart as me. But that doesn't mean you're stupid."
You laugh dryly. "I don't know why I was ever nice to you. You have no interest in being nice to me."
Again, confusion flickers over his face. "I agreed to help you, didn't I? that's nice!"
"I think you only agreed to it so you could make me feel like dirt." You pick up your bag again and continue your way to the stairs that will take you down to the main entrance. You're still crying. He's absolutely shattered you tonight, and it's not fair.
Suddenly, there's a hand around your wrist, and it stops you in your tracks. It becomes abundantly clear that Michael Gavey is far stronger than he looks. You're left breathless when, out of nowhere, he pulls you between tall bookcases. He towers over you. You've always noticed how tall he is. Despite his somewhat bookish appearance, there's something about him that has always been nice to look at. Perhaps it's his thick hair, or his sharp jaw, or his pretty blue eyes. Something about him, despite his nasty streak, makes you wish he approved of you.
"Stop crying."
You sniff and look up at him in shame. "I'm trying."
"Try harder."
That makes your face crumple again. "Leave me alone."
"I want to help."
"Let me go."
"You're kind to me," he says, his voice suddenly quieter. When he says your name, it cracks. "I'm trying to make you feel better."
"It's not working."
"Teach me," he whispers. The intensity with which he is now looking at you in almost too much.
"Say something nice about me."
"Oh. Um." His hand loosens slightly on your wrist. You're all too aware of how clammy it is against your skin. You don't care. Any touch from him is, unfortunately, welcome. "Your work on our projective geometry project was good."
"I know it was."
"Alright." He licks his lips. His eyes dart to yours. "You're... good at explaining things in different ways. I'm not."
You sniff, and look down at your feet. His body is close to yours, and your gaze catches something in his trousers. Perhaps his zipper is caught on something. Or perhaps... perhaps...
Your heart races.
"Why did you agree to help me?" you ask, eyes still downcast.
"You asked."
"Why?"
"I..."
"Tell me the truth, Michael."
"Um."
It's so late, and you're so tired. The uncertainty makes the tears fall again. Your head hurts so much. "I'm going."
Michael cries out your name throatily. In a heartbeat, he grasps your shoulders and pushes you against the bookcase, and then his tall, lean body is pressed against yours and his clammy hands find their place on your neck. "Don't cry," he tells you. His face comes closer to yours. His glasses begin to steam up.
"You've done this to me."
"I want to make you feel better. But..."
"But?"
"But you're so pretty when you cry."
And then he kisses you.
It is messy, wet, and needy. He doesn't hesitate to push his tongue against yours, and his glasses press against your face. It should make you squirm away. But it makes you whimper quietly. Your bag drops to the floor, and your hands fly to his narrow hips. You open your mouth wide against his desperately, your teeth clinking against his, and he mirrors you until your lips, your cheeks, your nose, are wet with his spit.
He doesn't know what he's doing. You hardly do, either. And it's so fucking good.
"Michael," you whisper between hard and deep kisses.
He groans your name. "I've thought about this since we first met."
"You thought about me?"
He nods, before burying his face in your throat. His greedy mouth kisses up and down before they settle where your neck and shoulder meet, and he sucks. At his hips, your hands ball into fists around his belt. The carabiner he wears on it with a collection of USBs knocks against your fingers and you tug on it.
You want to fuck him.
"Yeah," he murmurs against your skin. "Think about you in lectures. What I wanna do to you."
To you. Not with you. God, that should make you want to leave. Instead, you resolve to stay.
"Yeah?" you ask breathlessly. "Show me."
"Okay."
Nervous sweat dampens his forehead, but you don't care. You feel it when he presses it against yours and palms you over your jacket. Your soft bra is padded, and you can hardly feel his touch. It's driving you mad. In frustration, you unbutton your shirt quickly and look up at him. "Touch me. Please, Michael, please-"
He breathes loudly through his mouth. His lips are wet with sailva; he's practically drooling. He hesitates.
"Have you been with a woman before?" you ask, chest heaving with need.
His grits his teeth, anger flashing across his face at the question, the mere insinuation that this is his first time. You take that as a no.
So it's your turn to teach him. But just from his desperate kisses, you're almost blind with desire, and there's not much patience left in you. So you pull your breast free from its cup, and press on the back of his head. He's so fucking tall. "Kiss me here," you whine softly. "Suck my nipple."
He is a better pupil than tutor. Perhaps, if you were less aroused, you would tell him to be gentler. But as it is, his eagerness is rough and hard and just what you need. The sharp pull of his mouth sends electricity through you, from your head to your toes, and you arch up against him.
"Your hand," you tell him. "Down my trousers. You thought about that, right?"
Against your breast, he nods. He bites your nipple, and you dig your teeth into your lip to keep quiet. It's the middle of the night, but anyone could walk in.
He fumbles with your button and zipper, and then his hand is down the front of your jeans and you spread your legs. He palms you hard, and instinctively, you grind against the touch.
"Let me show you something." Your breathing is laboured already, just like his. He releases your breast from his mouth and meets your gaze with pupils blown wide. You feel your heartbeat under his hand.
You wriggle your jeans down to your knees and then push down your underwear too, enough that you can spread your legs and cover his hand with yours. You guide his long fingers against your cunt, and it takes no time at all to show him how hot and swollen your clit is.
"Like that," you whisper as you press his digits into a firm and fast pace.
"God," he whimpers. "You're so... you're wet."
You nod. "Yeah. Means I want you."
Without needing to be guided this time, his touch strays down, and he presses his middle finger through your folds. When he finds your entrace and slips inside, he moans so loudly that you have to clamp your hand over his mouth.
His eyes are wide and pleading with you. He watches your face so closely as he pushes a second finger inside of you, and he kisses and sucks at your palm against his mouth.
"That's good," you tell him quietly, nodding your head. "Rub circles around my clit with your thumb. Oh, God, yeah, like that. That's good, Michael. Oh, God, don't stop."
When your hand against his mouth goes slack, he takes the opportunity to kiss you again. He shoves his tongue back into your mouth and it's so messy, so needy so erotic, that you have to quickly push his hand away depsite your previous order.
"What?" he asks, suddenly panicked. "What did I do wrong?"
"Nothing," you gasp. "Gonna make me come already."
His cheeks flush a deep red. "Really?"
He grins lopsidedly, and you whine, "want you inside."
Gulping, and with shaking hands, he unbuckles his belt and the clink of metal seems to echo loudly in the cavernous hall. He shuffles his trousers down his hips, mirroring you, and you look down to see how his hard cock strains against the soft briefs he wears. God, there shouldn't be anything sexy about the y-fronts he's sporting, but you can see the thick outline of him, his heavy balls, and its maddening.
Neither of you care that you're in public now. He pushes his underwear down, too, and when you whisper for him to lift you up, he does it with surprising easy. You kick your trousers and underwear off, spread your legs for him, and grasp the bookshelves at your back for support. His arms are hooked under your thighs and he watches with glasses slipping down his nose as his cock lines up against you.
Instinct takes over. He shoves his cock through your folds, back and forth, coating himself with your arousal, and he presses over your clit with his tip time and time again.
He moans your name too loudly.
"Shh," you soothe, as if you're not fighting with all of your strength to stay quiet. "God, that feels good."
"Inside?" he asks, unable to take his eyes off his cock on your cunt.
"If you want."
"I do." He meets your gaze. There's a vulnerability in him that you haven't seen before. And then you clench, and he feels your muscles tighten, and desire wins out. After a moment of slipping through you, he presses his blunt head against you, and pushes into you in one, swift movement.
The speed takes you by surprise. He's bigger than the vibrator you've been satisfied with lately, but that's alright. You're wet and throbbing, relaxed enough to take him. But it's still a stretch, albeit a blissful one. It's a stretch that borders the line between sweet and stinging, and tears prick your eyes. Good tears, this time.
"Okay?" he asks, voice cracking.
They drip down your cheeks but you smile, biting your lip, and nod. "Yeah. Hard. Go hard, Michael. Need- God, need you!"
And he does as you tell him. "Think about you," he grunts as he thrusts hard and fast. He's on the tip of his toes, knees bent, as he sets a brutal pace that has your body aflame. "All the... fuck, all the time. Oh! Oh!"
You clamp your hand back over his mouth to stifle his moans, and they dissolve into whimpers that match his hard, laboured breaths. They come through his nose and make the skin of your hand prickle. Michael grips your hips hard enough to bruise and it's so good, it's so fucking good. He wants you, he needs you. That's why he agreed to help you. That's why he accepted your kindness.
He likes you. Buried six inches deep in you, you realise this. It makes you bury your face into his neck, and you bite his earlobe. He whimpers in response. "Shh," you soothe.
"Close," he groans against your hand.
"Me too," you breathe. The coil in your stomach is tightening. The tension in your thighs spreads up your back, between your shoulders, and all the way down to your toes. As you wrap your legs around his slim waist, you wonder, in the back of your mind, if the shoes you still wear will leave a mark on his shirt.
"Oh, fuck, fuck, so good, fuck-!" He comes suddenly, buried deep inside you, and you feel him spurt inside of you. But it doesn't matter, you're so undone it doesn't matter, it doesn't fucking matter-!
He whines your name and presses his groin tight against your as his orgasm stutters over him. Dropping his head on your shoulder, he pants, and whispers your name.
"Michael," you protest quietly. "Plase, I'm not there, I'm-"
You rock your hips against him needily. As if it is the easiest thing in the world, he sets you down and pulls out, and immediately replaces his cock with his hand. Just as you showed him before, he buries his fingers back in your pussy and circles your clit with his thumb, and you appreciate it, you do, but it's not enough, it's not enough-
"Oh, God," you groan softly. "Like this."
You're trembling close and youre's so needy, and you grab his hand and press all fingers against your mound, showing him to press as hard and fast as he can. It hurts in the best way, and his hand is almost a blur, and he studies your face with an open mouth as your expression crinkles, tightens, your jaw slack and eyes scrunched closed.
The orgasm he gives you explodes through your body and you white out, knees giving way and balancing falling through. With his hand still firm against your cunt, he catches you and holds you steady, and you clutch against him blindly for balance. "I've got you," he grunts. "Easy."
But there's pride in his voice. He keeps his hand against you even after your orgasm has washed over you. Your flesh there twitches, hot and swollen, and his fingers gently press in different places to learn about you. Whatever information he gathers makes him smile.
After a long moment, enough strength returns to you that you can stand steadily again. "God, that was..."
"Acceptable?" he asks hopefully.
You're bending down to pull your underwear and trousers back on, and you glance up, trying not to grin. "It was good."
He smiles slightly and nods, looking away as if deep in thought. "Alright, that's good, then. Next time, should I wait for you to... to finish first?"
"Next time?" you ask with a quiet laugh. Standing upright, you do your trousers back up and he does the same, the USB still swinging from his belt.
"We have to do this again." Michael says it as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. And then, he brings the hand up covered in your wetness, and he licks his fingers clean. His eyes close in bliss. "You taste so sweet."
Biting the inside of your cheek, you smile even wider. "You don't have to do that."
Swallowing, he murmurs your name and smiles. It's the most genuine smile you've seen him wear. "Oh, I do. You know me. Always had a sweet tooth."
#michael gavey x you#michael gavey x reader#saltburn#ewan mitchell#ewan nation#mine#helaelaemond kinktober
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lusty gallant • c.s.c.
Pairing: choi seungcheol x afab!reader
Genres: smut (minors dni!), roommates!au, fwb!au, lil angst if you squint
Warnings: monster dick cheol <3, swearing, breeding (mentions of pregnancy), size kink, lots of cum and cumming inside, fingering, bantering ofc, choking, lil bit of praise and degradation, hair pulling, man (dick) handling, prolly unhygienic sex tendencies, teeny possession heh, basically reader and cheol are pussy/dick whipped and heathens, sassy, and lil shits (affectionate). pls lmk if i missed smth I'm sleepy
WC: 2.6k
A/N: happy birthday to my beloved soulmate @duhnova <3333 you've been such a lovely presence and have become one of my favorite people from tumblr ❤️ ty for always matching my pace and being so loving and bright always! i really hope you like this heh i tried smth a lil different and we all know I'm secretly feral for cheol and love you lots <3 hope your special day is the best day ever! also happy 1st fic of 2023!! Many more to come I promise 💖
update: 9/6: sequel
When Seungcheol walks through the door with the biggest shit-eating smirk on his stupidly handsome face, you know he's up to something. It makes you want to tear off the beanie snug around his head. Oh. And maybe the rest of his clothes too.
"What is it?" you grouse out as he stands expectantly in front of the television screen. "This better be important because I'm missing the finale."
He knows this but still blocks the screen. Because he's also unbearingly smug, aware of how you can't stop checking him out. Where else are you supposed to divert your eyes when he's in the way though?
"Don't worry, sweetheart," Seungcheol has the audacity to wink at you through his clear-rimmed glasses, "you'll like it lots."
You easily feign disgust. "Why in the world do you think I will?"
"Because," he rocks back on the balls of his feet. Hands burying deep inside the pockets of his gray sweatpants only helps exemplify the outline of his big, long, thick dick inside. "You like me."
"Please. I've kept my end of the bargain so don't go assuming that I haven't."
It's the way his smirk grows wider that stops you from throwing even more daring accusations his way. You also know what kind of man he is. It was very obvious what you signed up for after agreeing to be his roommate.
To ignore all his minor inconvenient and annoying tendencies in exchange for basically living without having to drop a dime for rent or groceries in a nice apartment.
"You like my dick."
Oh. And free cock. The best and biggest kind of cock you might have ever encountered and probably will ever again. No strings attached.
Except everyone knows that those nonexistent strings very much so exist. And are attached. To Seungcheol's cock. Not the man himself. Definitely not. He knows it. Your best friends know it. His own friends might know it too.
Even the couch knows. You grimace. Thinking back to the night before. And the night before that. And last week —
Yeah, the couch definitely knows.
"Yeah occasionally, and?"
You continue to glower straight at Seungcheol's crotch as it seemingly moves closer to you. Every step he takes causes his cock to jostle slightly in his pants. Your jaw aches instinctually and you know you're probably drooling.
Disgusting.
But you are a dedicated whore.
"Occasionally, my ass," Seungcheol mutters in disbelief, more to himself if anything, already half hard.
It's truly unfair how you frown cutely, seated below him so prettily with a rebellious glint in your eyes. Oh, how he loves to fuck that attitude out of you. Even now, the way your lips curl down in faux disgust causes his hips to jut forward.
"You're insatiable," you mock when he shifts even closer until his clothed cock nearly presses against your nose. Suddenly enveloped in his scent, you can't help but go ahead and nuzzle teasingly against his bulge.
"Says the one who begged to be filled up this morning."
His words make your hole clench pitifully, causing you to purse your lips. Soaked and stickied fabric sits between your legs. Not just from being constantly wet around this man. But the same stupid man who had naughtily pulled your panties back up to cover your poor spent and abused pussy after a long, hard sleepy fuck to ensure not a drop was wasted after cumming deep inside.
And you loved it. There was something special, something you treasured about feeling full of his messy release coating in and all over your cunt. It surely beats the warmth of his arms you've never felt when he nonchalantly throws the covers over your shoulders and saunters out with a literal bounce in his step.
You wonder why Seungcheol even bothers paying and staying in a two bedroom apartment when you both end up in the same bed. Maybe the variety of wondering who will crawl under whose blankets makes it all worthwhile.
"What did you want to show me?" you fire back.
"Oh," an eyebrow raises, "you think you deserve to see?"
The feeling of his hand pushing your forehead back is harsh enough that your tongue automatically pokes out with the expectation of a heavy cock laid upon it. Instead, his fingers that stroke your cheek are gentle. Seungcheol is not a kisser. But the featherlight tracing of circles along your neck make up for it.
Your eyes roll back when his thumb rubs along your throat, the rest of his fingers wrapping around with a gentle squeeze.
"Hm?"
"Of course."
"I don't think so." Seungcheol's decision makes your jaw drop but he's not finished yet. "Always acting out and misbehaving like a total brat. Have I still not fucked you hard enough?"
You wince, shifting in your seat lightly, because that statement is not entirely untrue. For sure, you can't recall the last time you weren't at least a little bit sore, struggling to sit comfortably with how brutally he's had his way consensually with you. Still. Nothing will ever be enough to fully rid you of your brattiness.
It's simply a part of your wonderful personality that everyone should appreciate more. And Seugncehol does. He adores everything about you.
Not that you would know. You don't even attempt to understand the pondering look in his dark brown eyes while he casually squeezes and releases his grip around your throat. Unaware that he's thinking about purchasing that cute collar and leash set he saw. Gifting it to you as a one-year anniversary celebration present since you moved in. Wondering what color would suit you best.
"Shirt off, wanna see your pretty body."
It's easy to maintain eye contact and a naughty smile until the shirt has to be pulled off your head. There's no need to wear a bra at home, nipples already perking up before your upper body is bare. Surprisingly Seungcheol doesn't focus on your tits as expected and you meet his eyes again with a questioning stare.
"Show me," he coughs, changing his tune, "show me if you kept your tiny lil hole filled up."
Your cheeks burn. Not out of shame. It's just his stupid effect. Legs already shaking, you stand. He backs up, giving you space and crosses his arms, eyebrows pinching together as he observes every single movement. Your trembling hands tug at your sleep shorts that barely cover anything.
"Turn around."
You obey, of course. Sucking in a harsh breath and bracing yourself as you throw your shorts on the floor, sticking your ass out on purpose. You're sure your panties are an absolute mess to look at — you can feel it — and Seungcheol's loud grunt only confirms the truth that it's a visual to die for.
Even though the best part hasn't even started yet.
Continuing to bend over, you ease them down slowly. Slower than necessary. Every slide down further and further makes the fabric stick to your center, a filthy mixture of arousal and Seungcheol's cum drenching it. A clear string of your essence clings to the material when you finally get them off and his low curses only make your pride swell, pussy lips fluttering and pushing out more of a mess.
"You touched yourself." His disappointed tone is obvious. But the pleasant reminder of flicking lazy circles on your clit over your panties while dipping an occasional finger to play and move around the cum inside makes your body thrum in pleasure. "Seriously? And you thought I was insatiable?"
"What's the matter? I was bored while you ran your silly errands and left me all alone," you purr. "You can just fill me up again. Maybe try and keep your dick deep inside this time. Or let me cockwarm you after, promise I won't waste a single drop."
When you lick your lips and wiggle your hips, Seungcheol scoffs. "Desperate little thing."
He shuffles closer, taking time to lick his palm like a heathen before roughly cupping your pussy. It's not like there's a need to wet his hand. But the heady way you can't help but watch how stupid sexy he looks through your eyelashes only eggs him on. Fingers spread your lower lips so the rest of the thick white globs can fall out and then he's slipping one inside your cunt.
"Not like much can fit in this tiny hole. Surprised you aren't pregnant yet after being stuffed full." Feeling you squeeze and suck his finger in more taunts him to add another. "You'd like that, wouldn't you? That's why you keep asking for it."
There's no time to adjust to the way he curls his fingers just right that you're already dizzy with pleasure. And then he speeds up, shoving them in at a rapid pace that fills the room with loud squelching sounds and whimpering moans.
Your hands brace the back of the couch for dear life, upper body already lurching forward with the way Seungcheol can render your body to his will completely. You're sensitive but it feels so fucking good. Any twinges of discomfort are drowned out by fuzzy pleasure.
Then suddenly, you're left empty. There's not much time to complain about it though before he's rubbing his hand across your ass, smearing it with the glistening sheen coating his fingers. Watching how your cheeks jiggle in time.
You hear a hum, a tickling sensation tracing down your back before he's pulling you up by the back of your neck to lay flush against his chest.
Hips rut against your ass, betraying his desperation and messing up his sweatpants — not that the man cares. He probably revels in it. There's something that makes you weak in the knees, though, with Seungcheol fully clothed while you wait naked and bare for him to make the next move.
One moment his hand slides from the back of your neck to the front in a gentle chokehold, muttering something about "had to make sure you're nice and empty to take another load" and the next moment the world spins as he pushes you down on the couch.
You land on your back, supported by his strong arms so you barely actually fall. Hovering above you, he finally rips off his beanie and you gasp when pink strands flutter out down to tickle your nose.
"You dyed your hair?"
"Yeah, thought it'd look prettiest between your legs." Your pussy flutters at the mention and so does your damn heart. "Besides, you know what the color is named?"
"What?"
"Lusty gallant." Seungcheol beams when you erupt into delighted laughter. "See, isn't it perfect?"
"It really is!"
"Knew you had a crush on me."
His pompous smirk makes your teeth grind and you spit out, "Where did that come from?"
"You think I'm gallant. Brave. Heroic. A gentleman."
"Did you know?" Your finger pokes at his firm chest, sliding down, down, and down. "It also means a big… fucking…" you grab at his cock hard, "flirt. Yeah, it is perfect."
He hisses at the harsh contact. "I'm not a flirt!"
"Hm, sure."
Of course, he relents when you squeeze him even tighter. "Alright… maybe just with you, though. You know you're the only one I fuck. Can't help but rile you up, it's sexy."
You stick your tongue out in pure spite at him only to quickly retract it before he can pull at it like he enjoys.
"You kept it long?"
It seems like such a hassle. You remember him pouting about doing something new with it and figured it'd be easier to cut before coloring it.
"You like pulling at it, so…"
"You like me pulling at it."
"Takes two to tango," he grins and leans back to tug off his pants. His cock slaps against the t-shirt covering up abs. Red. Hard. Angry. Oozing loads of pre-cum. "I could sit here all day instead?"
You go to sit up, ready to ride the smirking man into oblivion and shut him the hell up but he clicks his tongue, caging you in between his arms and keeping you on your back.
"No, sweet stuff. I'm on top today. And you're gonna have to put what you want inside you yourself."
As if it's a challenge. You bite your lip to try and stop your coy smile from lighting up your face. One last, tight clutch around his thick cock for good measure before you rub it along your outer pussy lips.
"No," Seungcheol huffs out, "no teasing."
It's a goddamn power trip for this man to be so close to losing control. You guide the large head inside your hole, knowing if you take it a bit too far any longer, you'll be in trouble if he has to beg.
Despite the slow pace you take to ease his fat girth inside, once he bottoms out with his balls settled against your asscheeks — the brutal thrusts of his hips begin. They snap at an unbelievably fast pace, so much so that your body jerks uncomfortably against the scratchy material of the couch. Head dangerously close to bumping against the arm rest.
"Hold on to me, baby."
Unlike most cases, you don't grab onto Seungcheol's shirt or even cling to his powerful shoulder blades. Instead, you grip onto the long pink strands of hair on the back of his neck.
His head jerks back with a deep groan echoing in his throat before he buries into the crook of your neck. Biting as he also buries his cock deep within in your sweet cunt, hitting that spot only he is able to reach every single time.
"Knew you had a thing for hair pulling."
"If you're able to talk nonsense," he sits back, holding your hips harsh enough to bruise. "must not be fucking you hard enough, again."
He says, "Sorry, baby," dripping in a copious amount of pathetic degradation that you clench so hard around him like a vice. Seungcheol chokes. But when you start to moan non-stop, he smiles like a victor.
"Could fuck this tiny pussy so many times but it never loosens up. Gotta relax for me or I won't be able to fill you up properly."
The bastard isn't helping much, the dirty talk and desperate need to be bred only making your head spin more. Legs wrap around his waist to pull him in even as your pussy threatens to push him out.
Seungcheol falls silent himself, too entranced by the creamy ring forming around his cock where your bodies connect.
Promises of filling you up finally fall from his mouth as he nears his peak. Whispers of "mine" and "yours" he thinks you can't hear in your state but you always do. Reminiscing over them when you're alone at night.
But that's not what matters at this moment as white noise fills your ears, almost blanking out as another incredible orgasm rocks your entire body. Seungcheol's release hits right as yours finishes, pelvis pressing close against yours to make sure you take every single drop as promised.
He hates to even move away. But a couple shallow thrusts are enough to satiate his need to ensure your sweet pussy won't waste even a little bit until you whine from the oversensitivity.
The urge to kiss your forehead is strong as you come down from your high. Instead, he simply stares at you with starry eyes in the vulnerable moment.
One day, Seungcheol convinces himself that he'll be brave enough to utter what traitorously rings through his heart and entire being when he's with you. He's sure it's not the after-nut feelings but maybe it's best to wait until he's not balls-deep inside, too blissed and fucked out that he accidentally blurts it aloud.
Perhaps he will when he gives you the collar and leash, a diamond-encrusted heart with his initials on the front and yours on the back. Tilting his head, he still isn't sure if pink, black, or red suit you best because you're too perfect.
Maybe he'll consider white? Totally not a thought influenced by the gorgeous stains coating your most intimate parts and inner thighs.
Definitely not.
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onlyseokmins: January 2023 ©
#ez.creates#svthub#choi seungcheol smut#seungcheol smut#svt smut#seventeen smut#kpop smut#smut#scoups smut#nova 📚#ez.mootz#1k 🌟#2k 🎇#svt.smut
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Kildare Split Part Two: Place In Me
Rafe Cameron x Reader
Chapter 2: Place In Me
Note: Me: I don't know when I'll post chapter 2 maybe on the weekend but who knows. Also me: posts 3 hours after saying that. Once again I wanted to thank everyone for reading and interacting! I appreciate all of you so much. Not edited so be warned. I confused everyone with part 21 and this doesn't provide any answers! Just more context for other parts of the smau. Enjoy!
Warnings: none, bad writing, Rafe being mean, y/n being mean
Word Count: 3,371
Synopsis: Everyone has noticed that there's been a shift in how Kildare Split acts around each other. Rafe and Y/N used to be so close, they were always pictured together, and always shared stories of each other and for the last few years, there has been nothing from them. A behind-the-scenes look at what went down between everyone's favourite band.
She thought that she made herself clear and that they understood where she was coming from after her speech in the green room.
She’s not expecting Barry to be sitting on the couch of the tour bus she had chosen to sleep in, her hair sticking to her sweaty forehead from her run, slightly out of breath.
When she opens the door and sees him sitting there, she jumps.
“Fuck, Barry what the hell?” Barry had a very specific regime for show days. He should’ve been napping on the other bus.
“We can’t go on hiatus. You’re being selfish.” She feels her ears start burning, she scoffs at him.
“Selfish? You better be kidding me. The audacity of you to come in here and accuse me of being selfish?”
“Y-” She doesn’t let him continue.
“I have put up with this bullshit for two years, Barry! Just because I’m tired and need a break doesn’t make me selfish.”
“If you would just talk to him.”
“No. Fuck you. No.”
“If you talk to him, and he explains himself, you’ll understand and this can all go back to normal.”
“No. I will not fix this. I don’t need to fix this.”
“What happened to be there for each other?”
“Barry. You and Topper were supposed to be there for me!” She snaps, her voice rising.
“You were the only people who knew exactly what I was going through not only with Rafe but with the fame and the drugs and the people wanting things from me. You were going through it too, I know you were. But you abandoned me the second Rafe decided to what? Get in a relationship? You threw me away, I was so alone!”
Tears are threatening to spill over now. She hates how she can’t get angry without crying.
“I went through everything by myself and the people I thought were my best friends abandoned me. I get it okay. You chose your boy. But I thought I meant something to you. I thought I was your friend. He broke my heart and my spirit.” She stops to catch her breath, “I was a shell of a person and you still didn’t even ask me if I was okay. In two years you haven't checked in.”
“y/n..”
“He told me he didn’t want to live without me and the next day I found out he was seeing Sofia. And suddenly I wasn’t his friend or his bandmate or even a person. I was just someone he fucked. And I don’t care why he said that. I don’t care if he meant it or not or if he was lost and scared. He still said it. I’m done. I’m done with him, I’m done with this Los Angeles, I’m done. I don’t owe him anything. I don’t need to talk to him.” She finishes her chest heaving. Barry is staring at her, eyes wide.
“What does that mean?”
“Don’t worry, I’ll stay in the band. But it’s work. That’s all. We aren’t friends.”
Barry’s silent. Still sitting on the bus couch.
“Get out. Please.”
+++
The early days of getting over Rafe were hard. She wanted to go back to who she was before him. The version of herself before she got involved with him. Journaling and writing song lyrics and poems could only do so much. Everyone told her that she needed someone else. She understood that but she didn’t feel like it. She wasn’t ready to get her heartbroken all over again.
Not when she constantly got her heart broken on tour, not only when she saw Rafe making out with Sofia backstage but when Barry walked right by her without acknowledging her existence, or when Topper pretended not to hear her. Her heart cracked every time for the little girl who trusted these boys with her entire being and let them in only for them to stomp all over her.
She spent endless nights on tour, alone in her hotel room crying at the top of her lungs and on the tour bus muffling the sound of her sobs with her pillow. So when people suggested she needed to meet someone to get over him, well, it didn’t sound like a good idea to just let someone else in to break her even more when they eventually left.
It got better little by little, the heartache over her friends hating her. The heartbreak over Rafe choosing someone who wasn’t her, someone who was worth it. The loneliness never did. It was crippling how alone she felt. There were times when she wanted to go back to the drugs, drinking, and partying. She would feel so much better if she just couldn’t feel anymore. She didn’t go back on the promise that she made to herself. She would never be that afraid high out of her mind 17-year-old girl again.
She isn’t sure if she gets over Rafe or if she learned to live with the pain. Sometimes she thinks she’s so angry at him and that’s the reason she doesn’t want him. She misses him all the time, she thinks she’ll miss him forever. At least who they were before they had sex and fucked it all up.
She lets everyone know that when the time comes she’ll make them all aware. Cleo tells her that she better be the first one who finds out she’s seeing someone. She tells her that she wouldn’t have it any other way.
The day she met him was one of the most ordinary days she had lived in her entire life. She had woken up in her Los Angeles apartment, made herself breakfast, gone for a swim and gotten ready for the day. She didn’t have anything planned for the day, maybe tidy up a little, call Sarah, and run some errands. The craving to make brownies hits her out of nowhere, she doesn’t have any of the ingredients at her house though, the life of a touring artist.
She’s leaving the grocery store with her reusable bags filled to the brim with all her cravings. She’s digging in her tiny pink purse that can’t hold anything for her keys when she drops two of her bags.
She doesn’t want to get angry when she sees everything fall, she stares at it for a second, takes a deep breath and moves to pick it up. Once she gets everything together and packed up in her car, she decides that she needs a little treat for putting up with her groceries falling.
Her favorite pastry spot in LA is right by a hotel where all the celebrities who don’t live in the city full time. It’s usually a curse because everyone is hanging out or camping outside the hotel for a small glimpse of someone famous.
She thanks Caroline, the bakery owner and steps out of the store without looking at where she’s going. She feels herself collide into something strong and hard. Someone. Her pastries shake in the box. Of course, this would happen too. Why can’t she just keep herself from dropping her food today?
“I am so sorry.” She says to the man standing in front of her. He’s pretty, she thinks. Dark brown hair, almost black, brown eyes that look very familiar, and strong, and his arms are bulging where his black shirt sleeve ends. He’s hot.
“Don’t worry, you’re fine.” She hears his friend behind say something in a different language and the man in front of her shakes his head and smiles at her.
“Are they making fun of me for being a klutz?” He laughs.
“No, they think it’s funny that I would run into my celebrity crush. Literally.” Any other time, if someone confessed that she was their celebrity crush, she would run so far so fast. Something keeps her there, smiling like an idiot, at a loss for words. She says the first thing that pops into her head.
“Have we met? You look familiar.” She feels like she’s seen him somewhere but she can’t place him.
“Mira que te ha visto a través de la ventana.” one of his friends says, he shushes him not even turning to look.
“I’m an actor?” He says it like a question, his cheeks flush, and he’s embarrassed. It’s endearing.
“Yeah? Have I seen anything you’ve been in?”
“I doubt it.”
“So as your celebrity crush, it seems that I have a responsibility to watch whatever you’ve been in, don't you think?”
“No way.” He smiles at his friends doing a quiet chant of something behind him.
“No? Not even if you join me and walk me through it?” She knows she’s giving him eyes now, looking at him through her eyelashes, fluttering her eyelids a little too much. Her resolve is gone, she doesn’t know where her confidence is coming from and she’s going to use it until it’s gone.
“We could arrange that,” he pauses, “Julio.” He extends his hand out for her to shake.
“Y/N.” and maybe when she takes his hand she feels a shock run up her arm.
Maybe she’s being dramatic and jumping the gun but what if everything she’s been through led her to this moment? Right here with him.
+++
When Rafe finds out Y/N is seeing someone he tries not to lose it. He knows he has no right. His palms start sweating. He feels his breath shorten, he’s honestly a mess though he doesn’t show it.
At least not until Topper pushes him on the subject when they’re left alone.
“She’s seeing someone.” The room is eerily quiet, they’re in the studio recording their second album. Y/N had gone off to probably call her boyfriend and Barry was off doing who knows who.
“Yeah.” He’s short with his answer, scrolling on his phone to distract himself from the ever-intrusive thoughts of her her her.
“You good?” No. No, of course he’s not good.
“I have Sofia.” Topper clears his throat and continues his torture on him.
“Doesn’t answer my question.”
“Yeah.” He looks over at Topper, his eyebrows lifting in acknowledgement.
They stay quiet for a few more minutes, the questions and thoughts and everything eating at him.
“Who’s the guy?” The question forces its way out of his mouth. He doesn’t want to know anything about the man that holds her heart.
“Some actor,” Topper responds nonchalantly, looking at him like he’s going to blow up if he moves anymore.
“Cool.” He wants to claw his heart out. What the fuck is happening to him right now.
“Rafe.” Topper isn’t convinced that it’s cool at all. Because Rafe can lie to everyone in his life but not Topper.
“No yeah, that’s cool. It’s great, yeah, good for her.” He knows he still doesn’t sound convincing.
“What are you going to do about it?”
“Let her be happy.” He’s going to be mature about this. He asked Sofia to marry him last year for god sake. If he gets to be happy, she does too. Is he happy?
“Rafe.” Fucking Topper and his questions.
“I’ve fucked her life up enough. She deserves this. Deserves someone.” It spills out of him again, his eyes meeting with Topper’s, begging him to stop.
“Do you ever miss her?” Topper’s not showing him any mercy today, wanting to know everything he’s kept inside for the past two years.
“More than anything.”
“You fucked up” understatement of his life. He ruined her and in turn, ruined himself. He was stupid and selfish and he deserved the worst.
“Yeah.”
+++
“You have to apologize to her.” Rafe’s once again fiddling with his guitar. The arena is empty except for the techs playing with lightingThe stage had been set up the night before. Y/N was with Sarah exploring the city before she had to be back for soundcheck. Barry was taking a nap and Topper was being a pain in his ass. He tweeted some bullshit at him and Rafe had called him back to talk.
“I don’t have to do anything, she’s leaving.”
“Yeah because of you. Because of what you did to her.”
“I seem to remember that you were included in isolating her.”
“That only happened because she was so hurt she pushed everyone away and I thought I would make it worse by forcing her to talk. Anyway, that’s between y/n and I. You need to take responsibility, Rafe.”
“For what? It wasn’t my fault I didn’t love her.”
“Oh fuck off Rafe. You loved her. You were just scared.”
“Of course I was scared! It could’ve ruined everything. The band, our careers.”
“You shouldn’t have ever gotten involved.”
“I couldn’t help it!” He closes his eyes, doing the breathing exercises they taught him in rehab, in therapy.
“Please, just talk to her.”
“She doesn’t want to hear it.”
“You have to try!’
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“You won’t understand.”
“Try me.”
“Because I’m engaged. I’m with Sofia and I’m happy and if,” he breathes “if y/n were to even give me the slightest greenlight I would burn my whole relationship to the ground. Her whole relationship.” He says the last part under his breath, hoping Topper doesn’t hear it.
“What the fuck, Rafe?”
“I know.”
“Why now?”
“I did and said some shit back then to not fuck up the band. It was wrong, stupid and childish. It’s not a question of ‘why now,’ I never stopped.”
“You still love her.” Rafe doesn’t confirm or deny it. Topper shakes his head.
“You need to apologize.” Topper leaves Rafe to strum his guitar in thought.
+++
Everything changes when he comes into her life. It’s like she was living in this deep black hole of anger, sadness, and endless turmoil. He’s her calm. He grounds her and she feels like she can finally breathe. She hasn’t felt wanted in such a long time and even though they are long distance most of the time between his film schedule and her tours, she has never felt alone since meeting him.
She has a video from him every time she wakes up in the morning. Sometimes it’s just him telling her something that happened to him during the day, or a funny story, and sometimes he sings. She wishes she could drop an album just to feature him on it. She wants the entire world to know that he’s hers and she’s his and she is so incredibly in love.
It’s scary going from such a low to such a high. The extreme contrast is intimidating at times but she wouldn’t have it any other way. She learned what she wanted in a relationship from an extremely difficult situation and somehow it was all worth it as long as she got to have him in her life.
They’re together for a year before it gets out. They chose to be private about their relationship, it’s easy when he’s halfway across the world most of the time. That doesn’t stop her from spending every single moment that she isn’t on tour or in the studio next to him in Spain, Italy, France. She loves him. She would do anything for him. She knew that he was the one three weeks into their relationship and when she told him and he told her he felt the same, it confirmed it.
It’s her fault it gets out, he said it was about time and he wasn’t mad about it at all.
Sometimes she still finds that deep-seated anger she holds for Rafe bubbling over. It’s all-consuming and she can’t stop the venom that leaves her body.
When Rafe’s engagement gets out, she and Julio step out on a date night. Cleo calls the paparazzi for her. It’s a great plan until everyone is freaking out because they’re convinced she and Rafe were dating this entire time.
She loves her fans but sometimes the theories and threads get a little too much. Mostly because they’re correct most of the time.
At first, she was scared of Julio seeing all those things and seeing how everyone wanted her and Rafe to get married. She was scared he was going to run away. It never seemed to faze him. He never not once doubted her. He understands how people get and believes her when she tells him she chooses him for the rest of forever.
+++
Topper’s words haunt him. He wants to apologize to her and give her and himself some form of closure. He doesn’t know how to approach it. They haven’t talked in years, not really. How does he talk to the person that he hurt so much?
He catches her after soundcheck one day, his wringing his hands together, riddled with anxiety.
“Hey, Y/N?” He calls out after her as she passes him.
She slowly turns around and crosses her arms, raising her eyebrows at him in surprise.
“What can I do for you?”
He gulps as she looks at him expectantly.
“I was wondering if you had listened to the album?” What? Why the hell did he open with that?
“Why would I listen to the album?” She asks incredulously
“Well, because I mean it’s about,” he stumbles over his words, “I just wish you would listen to it and maybe hear me out.”
“You want me to listen to your album so that I can hear you?” She nods her head and puckers her lips.
“It’s so stupid that after all these years you can’t apologize to my face so you what? Make an album? Is your apology hidden in there somewhere?”
“Yes-No, I just think that if you gave it a chance, we could talk about it.”
“You want me to pretend to give a shit about your album when you can’t tell me how you feel right now in person?” She’s laughing a little now. Shocked at his suggestion. He wants the ground to swallow him whole.
“Please, can you just listen?”
“No Rafe. I am so done with this. I have been done with this. I don’t care about your album, I don't care about you.” Her words hit him like knives in his heart.
“Why do you care about my opinion about your album? Do you think I’m stupid? Do you think I don’t know that your album is about me? You called it Angel, Rafe! The fucking nickname that you gave me when we were 12 years old! I’m not some dumb girl who you can just manipulate and get whatever you want out of her. Not anymore. I am not that person for you.” She stops, her hands coming down from where she was waving them. He wants to say something but his mouth is dry and he has a ball the size of a grapefruit stuck in his throat.
“You made it incredibly clear to me that you don’t think of me as a person. Like- what did you say to me? That I’m just a fuck?” He grimaces when she throws his words from three years ago back at him.
“Yeah, you said I’m just some girl you fuck, ‘you’re just some girl I fuck I don’t care about you.’ Sound about right?” He can’t move. He’s frozen.
“You could have worded it a million different ways and still gotten your message across. You could have been so much nicer. Let me down easy. Let me know in a better way that you found someone that you wanted to get to know. I would’ve put everything aside and just been your friend but no, you decided that I meant nothing to you, that everything we had been through, everything we had built, Our friendship was not important to you.”
“Because I’m just someone you fucked. So, Don’t worry about me, don’t worry about my opinion because you’re just someone I fucked too and someone that I no longer care about. You are just my bandmate. You are just a coworker, I don’t think of you. I’m done with you. Keep your album. Good luck.”
He was so fucked. It would be a miracle if he ever got her to forgive him.
#kildaresplit au#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#outerbanks au#rafe x reader#rafe obx#rafe cameron au#rafe cameron smau#sorry if you hate it#don't tell me if you do
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The BG3 Beef I wanna see shitpost
While I do love the idea of Tav/Astarion/Karlach/whoever getting more unique mean dialogue with Ulder Ravengard, especially when he has the audacity to take up space in your camp like that instead of someone cooler like Barcus or that one bullied hyena, I want very specific flavor text that you'd only get in the epilogue party if you pick a specific ending even more.
I think if you romance Wyll as Gale or Gale as Wyll and then you don't go to Avernus, I think it would be totally galaxy brain to have dialogue in the epilogue that reveals Ulder Ravengard and Morena Dekarios fucking DESPISE one another. Because they absolutely would.
We never get to meet Morena in game but you can tell from what Gale and Tara say about her and Gale's... Galeness that she is at least a part time passenger on the "Fuck you my child is fine" train. Her sweet little boy? Commit evil deeds? Never! There has obviously been a mistake. I mean she indulged that "Gale Of Waterdeep" nonsense and when Gale summoned a full on Tressym after being explicitly denied a kitten as a child, she just let him keep her. No repercussions.
And then her sweet boy brings home another sweet boy who is probably EXACTLY what she pictured Gale's partner should be like.(Because Wyll is the damn blueprint for "Guy you could bring home to mom") Wyll is ridiculously sweet to Gale, he's the perfect gentleman, he's very open to the idea of giving Morena the grandchildren she's been nagging Gale about in the very near future. Pinch her, she must be dreaming!
I cannot imagine her reacting to Wyll's backstory with any amount of empathy towards Ulder, obviously that man is a cruel psychopath to throw poor Wyll out like that after "a tiny misunderstanding" and Wyll is just too good of a son not to see it. Which is partially true, Wyll is definitely still in some kind of denial stage over what his father did but that's not the point of the post.
Then there's Ulder who probably thinks Gale is... Fine. He's not someone he ever would have pictured for Wyll. Gale is a babbling oddball, he has chronic foot-in-mouth disease and has only ever met the pointy end of a sword. But he can't say anything because Gale saved him, his son, and Bulder's gate, and a small army of tieflings, and apparently a bunch of mushroom people and blah blah more reasons he can never have the moral high ground blah. He's undeniably stuck with this fucking wizard, and his nightmare of a mother.
Morena firmly believes that since the Ravengard manor is technically Wyll's now, then it's also Gale's and thus is now hers as well. When I say she would walk through the doors like she owned the place I mean it very literally. Where did Ulder's old helmet display go? "They were rusty and it was ruining the wooden shelves, besides these enchanted swords go better with the new drapes we had to get, I don't know how you didn't notice how moth eaten they were getting." Everyday he wakes up and something about his own damn home has been changed to make it look more like a wizard tower. She doesn't even live here most of the time!
And it doesn't stop there, not at all. No this women has to make sure his son doesn't live there full time either. Every holiday and birthday she has to send Gale a letter about how much she misses him and you should visit so you can take a break from all that(Very important!) work and how she already has the venison just for Wyll.
And every time he's forced to interact with this harpy she looks at him with a sweet smile on her face, honey in her voice and the burning hatred of a thousand suns in her eyes then somehow managed to insult him five times in one sentence without ever explicitly insulting him. This women is a devil from Avernus sent to punish him for his sins and she's even won over the grandkids. Obviously that women is a manipulative psychopath for using her control over Gale to manipulate his son. Which, yeah Gale not being able to say no to his mom has contributed greatly to this and if Wyll knew what healthy boundaries looked like he probably wouldn't have put up with it but he doesn't so here we are.
Let these two be the Tom and Jerry style B plot to BG4 is what I'm saying.
#baldur's gate 3#bg3#gale dekarios#gale of waterdeep#bg3 gale#wyll ravengard#bg3 wyll#ulder ravengard#morena dekarios#gale x wyll#I don't know their ship name#I only ship it for the family drama#Astarion can also fill this role as Wyll's SO but this is funnier to me#bladeweave#thank you dromaeocore for telling me!
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The premium version of human is here to wreak house, mfs.
[Twst x ObeyMe!AFAB!reader]
CHP. 7
Again, I thank y'all for the reblogs, likes and comments guys, it really helps me :)
CW: Blue pronouns or address for MC every time they get mistaken for a guy. Also, I'm a potty mouth so MC is too.
Inhale..
Exhale....
Inhale......
Exhale.......
Inhale.........
Ex-fucking-hale.......
You're about to have a stroke right now.
You should've just went back to the goddamn infirmary instead of checking in on these obnoxious, bitch-less, probably father-less, motherfuckers.
It's just cleaning windows!! How the hell can you mess up like this?! Why the fuck did the cafeteria chandelier get involved??
GODDAMNIT!! WHY IS YUU INVOLVED AS WELL?! AHHHH—!
*One eternity of screaming like a banshee later*
After sending those damn kids and cat away to get some sort of magical stone in some godforsaken mine, you wrangled with the headmaster for at least two hours to prevent him from writing up the expulsion papers of Yuu and that Blue-haired kid who was mostly innocent about the ordeal.
(Meanwhile, encouraging him to kick that Ace kid and the damn cat off the school. You ain't about to let audacity run free rn, mostly because you feel yourself start genuinely tweaking as you almost got possessed by the urge to sucker punch someone's soul out of their body.)
[Satan perked up, there it was again.
That distinctive spark of wrath that he can feel through your pact with him is both concerning and comforting.
On one hand, the anger he feels means that you're alive. And seeing that what he's feeling through the pact is mostly annoyance, then that must mean that nothing marginally bad or traumatizing had happened to you yet.
You're actually more pissed off in a 'someone-had-the-audacity-to-eat-my-snacks' kind of way more than anything else, meaning that you're safe for now.
But on the other hand, he doesn't know how long that temporary safety will last.
There's also the fact this is the fourth time he'd felt that spark of 'I-wanna-punt-someone-into-the-fuckin-sun' kind of anger from you, which is worrying because it hasn't even been 48 hours since you were kidnapped by some mf.
He shook his head, calling upon a subordinate (read: Devoted fan) to collect more and more books to learn what type of teleportation and sleeping magic was used in your kidnapping.
With the massive search party spanning all three realms that they'd called upon, they will find you sooner or later.
And once they do...
Well... You'll need to get used to being with someone at all hours of the day.]
*Passive-aggresively reminding Crowley that he can't kick out an innocent kid for something they didn't directly do as they had no way of stopping the events that transpired.*
["You don't want the word to get out that you let an innocent teen roam around in a foreign world with absolutely nothing to their name and nobody to protect them, right?"
"That is true, but I still can't just let this go unpunis–"
"Especially when it's the school's faulty equipment that took them so far away from all of their loved ones and belongings, right?"]
Needless to say, Yuu ended up being "fired" in the end, quite an unfortunate result because they will need to freeload off of you until the end of your stay in this world. (Poor them, they got fired before they knew that they had a job in the first place.)
Oh well, it's better than being kicked out from practically their only way back home right now...
Hays... That cruel crow..
Anygays, it's time to snoop around and hopefully make some connections to the residents of this school.
This is a well-known college, right? So there should be influential people here somewhere...
Hehe.. It's time you bring out your gaslight, gatekeep, gold-digging skills so that you can girlboss your way into stability inside this foreign world.
• • • • • •
Suddenly, more than a dozen individuals felt a strong shiver run up their spines.
Haha... Well that's ominous!
• • • • • •
Ortho deadpanned at his brother.
It seems that almost burning down their dorm room last night isn't enough to deter him from making his [Mr. L/n x reader] fanfiction complete with mandatory fan art for every single chapter.
Haaa....
But at least his brother isn't 'fanboying' about another fictional character again...
Hm... Now that he thinks about it..
Maybe his brother will be more inclined to make friends if it's Mr. L/n!
And thus begins Ortho's journey of being an unknowing wingman as he tries to get his introverted brother to make friends.
• • • • • •
You narrowed your eyes as you looked at the small gift on top of your temporary bed in the infirmary.
Dats suspicious....
Dats weird......
You turn your necklace into a staff and start poking the box, trying to see if it'll suddenly turn into a horrific eldritch monster and jump you. (Won't be the first time that happened.)
• • • • •
"It is done, ××× ×× ××××××" (This is too easy to guess😑)
• • • • •
Diavolo sighed for the tenth time that hour, lamenting how trying to focus on his paperwork is a really hard task when MC gets thrown into the situation.
'Maybe a small break will help clear my head?'
He might as well just go out for a walk in the garden to get some fresh... air...
Oh? what is this?
His eyes scanned the dark envelope he'd seen wedged under the 'To burn' stack of paperwork in his desk.
This envelope wasn't here yesterday...
After confirming that the piece of paper wasn't cursed or charmed, he opened it with apprehension.
...!
This..!
• • • • •
Barbatos appeared in the office, tense as he'd heard his lord call out his name with haste.
Reading the letter shoved in front of his face by the serious Diavolo, Barbatos made a mental note to get the dungeon chambers ready.
They've got themselves a lead.
← Pr.6 | Chapter List | Chp. 1.1 →
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That's just so I'll know if you wanna get tagged in all the upcoming chapters of this fanfic.
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Reblog or I'll take your ankles😈 (Pls like and reblog, it really gives me motivation🥺)
Also, the next chap is the start of Arc 1: Satan but short.
#obey me#obey me shall we date#crossover#obey me lucifer x reader#obey me mammon x reader#obey me leviathan x reader#obey me satan x reader#obey me asmo x reader#obey me beelzebub x reader#obey me belphagor x reader#obey me barbatos x reader#obey me diavolo x reader#obey me mephisto x mc#obey me solomon x reader#obey me simeon x reader#twst x obey me#obey me x twst#twst x reader#twst#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#obey me x twisted wonderland#x reader#reader insert#polyamory#fanfic
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Hello, I've been trying to reach you about your cars extended warranty:)
(Requesting Reverse Isekai AU thingy please^^)
I don't even have a car 😭 (thank you for requesting muah 😘)
Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader
Word count: 1.1k
Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, lovestruck reader, reverse isekai AU, fluff.
ʕ·ᴥ·ʔ
One minute you're mindlessly scrolling through your phone with your headphones blaring loud music, a minute later you're screaming bloody murder when a geometric glowing portal pops up in your room. It made everything in the room glow orange and yellow as confusion and surprise took over your form.
Are you getting abducted by aliens? Are you in an episode of Rick and Morty? If so, then multiverses are real, it's either that or the mold from your numerous stock water bottles has finally gotten to your brain.
A half second into your contemplation, out comes a man that you're oh so familiar with and oh so smitten with. His boots thump loudly on your floors, spikes glimmering under the red LED lights. The whites of his mask widen when he spots you cowering in the corner, darkness overtakes you when his oh so familiar voice echoes above the whir of the portal.
“This ain't 1346.” You fall off the bed like a damsel in distress.
—
You wake up to water gently splashing your face, flicking more like. And your head aching, eyes adjusting to the sudden light.
“Fuckin' finally, I thought you were dead.” A garbled voice utters as your ears try to waken up from your deep nap. “You alright there?” His voice clears and you still think you're dreaming when Hobie Brown's mask pops up in your vision, droopy eyeliner, spikes and all that jazz that you've practically memorized in your mind.
You thought your poster has once again fallen off the walls and onto your bed. But no, when you touched his bicep abruptly, eyes as wide as saucers, lips stuttering out his name. Your favourite character is real and right in your bedroom, flicking water from one of your numerous discarded water bottles on your bedside.
Even your wildest imagination couldn't make this up.
“You're Hobie Brown.” You say in disbelief, voice just above a whisper.
“Yeah, I figured you know me based on all of these…” he roams his eyes on your walls and table. “...posters and stickers. What am I over here? A rockstar or somethin’? Since you know my name.”
“You're Hobie motherfucking Brown!” You screech, suddenly jumping off the bed, looking like someone just told you Santa isn't real.
“That I am.” Said man has the audacity to smirk at you. And you swear you would have fainted again. “You a big fan?”
“I love you.” Your voice merely a murmur but he for sure heard it as the eyes of his mask widened for a brief second.
“I think it's time for us to chat, yeah, love?”
“L-love? Fucking…” voice wavering, you drop once again, but this time he catches you perfectly without the motion sickness from traveling to one dimension after another.
Hobie chuckles, eyes staring at your sleeping face, mouth still agape from the surprise and skin hot under his gloves. “Never thought someone could faint twice in one day.”
—
There's a glass of cold water in your hands, legs nervously bouncing under the blanket. He sits at the foot of your bed, giving you enough space so as to not make you uncomfortable in your own home, and to also not make you pass out (again) from the close proximity. His iconic boots are discarded, vest folded next to him, and mask in his pocket. You almost fainted again when he took it off.
“So, this Miles from earth–1610 is gonna get chased by Miguel and the entire society because he doesn't want his canon event to happen?” You nod as he recalls your story. Not a story anymore as this Hobie hasn't experienced it yet. Of course you didn't tell him the entire plot, just in case it rips a hole in the space time continuum. “And a few people are gonna need a watch?”
You sniffle, skin so warm that you think you're boiling the water in your hands.
“Hmm, that checks out. Good thing I started making these watches then eh, love?” His mischievous smile makes your stomach do flips, you're sure he's doing it intentionally.
Pinching yourself under the covers, chugging down the cool water, you muster up enough courage to actually speak coherent words.
“H-how’d you get here?”
“Fucked up my coordinates, I think. I'm pretty sure I'm not in Kansas anymore.” Hobie chuckles at his own joke before switching his attention to your wide eyed self. “Wizard of oz, you do have that here, right?”
“Y-yes,” you say meekly, drowning in his blue? Grey? Or brown eyes? You have no idea as his borders and colors change every minute or so. Nevertheless, you're absolutely done for. You guess this is what it feels like to meet your favourite celebrity, or in this case, favourite character. “Reverse isekai.” You whisper, nerding out at the possibilities.
“A what?” He says in his accent and you tamp down the feeling of wanting to say it back jokingly.
You clear your throat, “nothing.”
Nodding, he inhales, eyes darting around your fangirl room full of fandom merch and of course spiderverse merch. He zeroes in on the body pillow peeking under the blanket. You immediately lift the covers up to hide it, accidentally spilling water all over yourself and the bed. *Great, very smooth, you thought.
His eyes are soft and full of endearment whilst he watches you frantically and desperately dry yourself off.
You hope that he doesn't tease, but you know him, know his character, so you anticipate what happens next.
“What was that then?” He pats your foot, head tilting to look at you. You feel your head swirl again, and you swear the water spilled all over you evaporates from the sheer heat from your skin.
“N-nothing, Hobie.” You sink into the mattress.
“Right,” He unfolds his vest, putting it back on. “It's been great, but I gotta go.”
“Oh,” you blink, “do you want me to take out the posters? I'm sorry for making you uncomfortable.”
He shakes his head with a smile. “Nah, not uncomfortable, I've been in worse dimensions. This ain't that bad really.”
“They're bootlegs if that makes it more okay.”
Hobie laughs and you practically melt from the sound.
“Bootleg, huh? That's a great name, project bootleg it is.” His smile blinds you for a second. You feel like you've ascended to heaven. “I have a tight schedule, being Spider-Man and all, but maybe I can visit again to get some insider knowledge of the future. Eh, Oracle?”
“S-sure,” you choke on the singular word. “It's a date— wait– no, I meant—”
Hobie chuckles, hands on his hips, bouncing on the balls of his boot clad feet, and border turning bright pink. For some reason, in all your clumsy and goofy self, you just made *the Spider-Man sheepish. Not just any Spider-Man, Hobie Brown, your absolute favourite out of all the thousands of Spider-people in the entire multiverse.
“It's a date then, no fainting next time yeah? I'll still catch you anyway, but it wouldn't be that fun if you're sleeping through it.”
“Okay.” You manage to say, heart loudly beating in your chest when his art style changes into love poems etched into his design.
He jumps inside the portal to hide the poems, winking at you before his body disappears into the void.
As the portal closes, you pass out once again, with a lopsided smile this time.
#request done#hobie brown x reader#spider punk x reader#the kr8tor's creations#hobie brown#atsv fanfiction#spider punk#atsv fanfic#atsv x reader#atsv hobie#fanfic#hobie brown x fem!reader#spider punk x fem!reader#hobie brown x you#spider punk x you#hobie x reader#hobie fluff#reverse isekai au
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Reader being jealous of Carmen and Sydney
Oooh I love that idea, dear! Hope you enjoy 💕
Pairing: Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto x Reader (Gender Neutral)
Warnings: Smoking, Swearing, Minor SPOILERS for The Bear (S2)
Genre: Fluff, Humor, Romance
The regular hustle and bustle of people making their way home from work has taken over Chicago now that the clock has passed 3 PM. Although sounds of chaos have been rattling the establishment since the hollow ungodly hours of the morning. Shouting bouncing off the walls, shit breaking, Fak and Richie being Fak and Richie. And all you've been trying to do is difuse the situation.
Sugar needs a break, as she very clearly told you with a single glance from across the room. You gave her a nod and let her close herself off in her office to take a breather while you took over keeping the circus in a somewhat straight line.
Currently, you're on your hands and knees, scraping all the debris and dirt that's gotten on the new tiles while the rest of the repairs were still taking place. You warned Carmy the tiles would look far from new if they were the first thing he chose to replace but he still stubbornly put his foot down on the matter. And now he realizes he shot himself in that same foot, giving you an apologetic look from where he's standing.
"Quit staring, Berzatto. Do your job." You scoff, continuing your task with a newfound aggression that threatens to take out the whole tile not just the stain.
You've been blowing him off and avoiding him all day - quite the abnormality since arguing with him is to you what a cup of coffee is to other people. A day for you ain't right unless it starts with a disagreement with him. To be fair, it still is a fight, just a silent one. It all but guarantees you a win when he can't even defend himself, oblivious to how he could've pissed you off in the first place.
"Why are you being mean?" It irritates you, that tone of amusement to his voice. He's entertained, he's fucking enjoying himself.
"I'm always mean." You reply without even sparing him a glance. Your point is accentuated when you hit Richie's knee with your free hand just as he starts getting rowdy with Fak. He yelps, scowling down at you before lifting his arms up in surrender. "See?"
Looking up, you see Carmy is no longer in his previous spot. Instead, he's knelt down a couple feet away from you, a scraping tool of his own in hand. "Oh I see just fine, Chef."
Your skin flushes with heat as you try to curb your annoyance - how is the fucker winning an argument he doesn't even know he's entered. "Not well enough as it would seem." You tap the stain he'd scraped at once or twice before moving on to the next, "This doesn't look clean to me, Chef." The amount of bitterness and sass compacted into that single word is almost palpable in the air between you two.
"Alright, that's it." He says, exasperated, dropping the tool and getting to his feet. He dusts his knees before offering you a hand, "Cigarette, now."
You don't budge, still at the stain you've been struggling with for the past five minutes, "I'm busy. Ask Syd."
At that, Carmen has the audacity to straight up laugh. That's' what pushes you to reach your boiling point. You look up to tell him the fuck off just to have the tool swiftly stolen from your grasp, "Hey!"
"Cigarette, Chef. Now." His eyebrows are raised, giving you an earnest look that is meant to pull at the strings of your apperhension. He's not dumb, he can see you're particularly ticked off today. He can also take an accurate guess as to why. But he sure as hell isn't about to have that talk in front of Dumb and Dumber. Not that they'd pay you two much mind considering they've entered another screaming match but still - they have a tendency of paying attention when one would least want them to.
You feel like a child being scolded for throwing a tantrum. The only reason you oblige and stand up is to preserve your own pride. You make a point of not taking the offered hand, getting to your feet yourself and dusting off the pants of your overalls that have now been decorated with a lot of dust.
Contant is still established when Carmy grabs your hand, leading you to the back door and out in the alleyway. To be frank, here, it's not like you tried to wiggle free from his grasp but that's semantics at this point.
He plucks a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, taking two out. He traps one between his lips before extending the other to you.
You're not a regular smoker but you also don't turn it down when you're offered one. Especially not when you're stressed. With that taken into consideration, despite Carmen being the root of your stress at the moment, you still accept the offer and reach up for the cigarette.
Much to your annoyance, however, he snatches it away before you can take it.
Your hand balls up in a fist as you glare daggers and any other sharp objects at his smug expression. With a shake of his head and a fucking chuckle he offers it again, hoping you got the memo this time around.
The only reason you cave is just so you can put an end to this back-and-forth. So, despite your better judgement you bite the bullet and lean in, taking the cigarette between your lips.
It brings a smile to his face that you happily smack off had you not been at work at the moment. Instead, you focus your gaze on the flame he flicks on and inches closer to the cherry of your cigarette.
You take a long drag, inhaling the smoke with relief. It doesn't last long though since Carmen just has to open his mouth again.
"I'll ask you again - why are you being mean?" He lets out a cloud of smoke in the air, once more exhibiting exasperation you believe he has no right to feel.
Your jaw is set and so are your narrowed eyes as you follow suit - releasing the nicotine from your lungs, "And I'll tell you again - I'm always mean. I'll do you one better - why are you wasting time? We've got a lot of shit to do and we gotta do it in a very short fucking time and you're here taking smoke breaks! Sugar is losing her mind, Fak and Richie are gonna kill each other, Cicero is breathing down our necks, Syd is counting on you..."
"And you're not?" He cuts you off, the smugness now long gone from his features.
One hand rests on your hip while the other brings the cigarette back to your lips, "That doesn't matter."
You're almost satisfied to see the irritation you've been feeling all day now take hold of him, "Like hell it fucking doesn't."
Rolling your eyes, you flick your wrist to check your watch, "You should get going. Don't you have a menu consultation with Syd?" You mumble around the tobacco stick in your mouth, avoiding his gaze entirely now that you've lost all sense of subtlety to your anger.
If he were to ask you point blank if you are jealous of his close partnership with Syd, you'd laugh. And it is indeed laughable when you factor in the knoledge of how disinterested she is in terms of Carmy outside of a work setting. But still there's that nagging little piece of shit voice in your head...
Before you know it, Carmy has discarded his cigarette and has closed the space between the two of you. One set of fingers tilt up your chin while the other plucks the cigarette from your mouth. You're given no time to argue before his lips crash into yours.
You kiss him back instinctively, your brain momentarily short-circuting and conveniently wiping all the anger from your system. It returns only briefly when Carmy pulls awat from you. "It can wait."
You reestablish your sass a second later, grounding yourself into the annoyed act once more, "Nope, none of that." You shake your head, taking a step back, "I can handle you being corny but not inefficient and irresponsible." You steal back your cigarette before waving him off, "Go on, shoo."
His bright blue eyes twinkle with amusement, crinkles appearing at their corners as his face is lit up by a smile, "Alright, alright." He mutters in defeat. Still, he manages to sneak a kiss at the corner of your lips before reentering the restaurant-to-be. He stops in the dorrway, turning around to face you, "We're doing a movie night tonight. For real, this time."
A small chuckle escapes you as you attempt to feign nonchalance with a shrug, "You said the same fucking thing last time."
He points a finger at you, giving you his word, in a way, "You'll see." With that, he disappears inside, leaving you to finish your cigarette alone and with the dorkiest smile adorning your face.
It turns into a full blown laugh at the thought of how offended Syd would be if she knew of that little spark of jealousy within you. Truthfully, you owe her an apology.
#the bear#the bear fx#the bear fanfiction#the bear fic#carmen berzatto#carmen berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto x you#carmen berzatto fanfiction#carmen berzatto fluff#carmen berzatto fic#carmen berzatto imagine#carmy berzatto#carmy berzatto x reader#carmy berzatto x you#sydney adamu#richie jerimovich#neil fak#natalie berzatto#fic#fanfic#fanfiction#reader#x reader#request
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