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yukoii1 · 3 days

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— confessing katsuki bakugo

from the widow you seen he was sitting all alone outside confused to why he wasn't inside enjoying himself, you furrowed your eyebrows placing down your cup , “hey, i’ll be right back!.” you yelled over the music as your friends nodded their heads going back to their convos, walking over towards the sliding door to go outside. you slid open the door, then closed it walking towards him, "hey bakubae." you teased with a smile seeing him look up to see who it is, scoffing, looking away. "tch, told you to stop calling me that." you chuckled, sitting beside him bumping your shoulder with his, "you like it though~." katsuki groaned turning his body away but he didn't say anything. it was quiet now.

you raised a brow looking at him, he looked..flustered? "hey..you okay kat?." your voice..that soft tone. he groaned once more nodding his head, "i'm fine you idiot." you didn't buy it. "then whyre you out here all alone? are you not enjoying the party?." he quickly turned to you hearing that small disappointment tone in your voice shaking his head, "no—! I do like it, it's just..ugh!." he growled due to frustration, now you were really confused. he was acting weird, really weird. usually he would be more shouty and loud but in this case he was quiet?. "if you don't i’ll understand. you don’t have to force yourself to like it katsuki." you slightly chuckled but again he shook his head, "you damn idiot I just said i like the damn party..it's just something else." he mumbled that last part, you raised a brow,

"what is it?." why was this so hard? he's usually so confident when it came to his words but now..he was stuck. why were these feelings so damn confusing?. you could tell he was struggling by how his face was turning slightly red, furrowing your eyebrows. "kat, you don't have to tell me if you're not com-!." — "I do! just..fuck why is this so damn hard!." he snarled clenching his fists together, the more he was thinking about it the more it made him mad, it was either now or later..for months he’s been wanting to confess to you but never had enough balls to do so. you made him nervous, believe it or not you did, your brown eyes, your skin, your personality everything about you made him nervous. ever since you came from america he’s always had an eye on you, they way you would fight, your strategies, they way you talk..he even went to his mom about it!.

..he hates to admit the old hag has a wise point. “if you don’t confess now someone else from your class might take that chance away from you katsuki, just follow your heart and do what’s right.” she was right, her words echoed through his head like an annoying car alarm going off. his hands clenched into fists, he should take this chance before its too late. ugh.

"fuck it." he snarled, "wha- hmph!." your eyes were widened feeling his lips against yours, you were so shocked that you didn’t get a chance to think properly. In an instant katsuki pulled back, seeing your reaction, he thought he made a stupid mistake going to apologize but when you realized what happened, you grabbed ahold of his shirt kissing him back, his eyes went wide but they closed groaning from the rough pull instantly kissing you back. your lips were so soft and gentle, he placed a hand ontop of your cheek tilting his head to deepen it. from inside, kirishima was wondering where you went and why kaminari and the rest were by the window, furrowing his eyebrows, “hey guys what’s goin-!” he yelped feeling mina grab him by his shirt pulling him towards their level. he was confused but when mina turned his head to look outside his eyes widened, “I knew they liked each other!.” she squealed as kaminari fake sniffled, “our little bakubro is growing up.” he wiped a fake tear as the rest agreed, “who knew bakugo would pull a girl.” sero added with a small chuckle, out of all people they didn’t think you would the one he likes. I mean they knew he had a crush on someone in the class but they didn’t think it was you!.

what seemed like forever, you hummed in between his mouth before pulling back, what you didn’t expect katsuki groaned chasing after your lips again secretly liking the way they feel chuckling, “kat..” you mumbled leaning back in to only give him a peck, with a grin on your face. “Is this your way of confessing?.” you questioned trailing your hand on the back of his neck feeling him pinch you on your waist with a small grin feeling a hard glare at him. “and what if it is.” he mumbled, shaking your head giving him one last peck on the cheek before getting up, “then if it is, yes. I’ll be your girlfriend.” — “bakubae~.” you giggled hearing him groan,

“thought I told you to stop callin me that!.”

“at least it has meaning now!.”

I didn’t know how to end this shit 🤚🏼

#black reader #my hero academia #anime x black!reader #anime x reader #{ 🖋️} writings #fluff #mha x black reader #mha x reader #mha fluff #mha bakugou #bakugou x black reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki #bnha bakugo katsuki #katsuki x you #black fanfic writer

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sonarspace · 9 hours

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deception, nanami

content: mdni. angst. soft sex. breeding kink (? kinda) wc: 1.1k a/n: trying to get out of my writing slump but it’s bad! so here’s this…

𓇼 ⋆｡〰️⋆｡˚𖦹 ⋆𓆞𓇼 ⋆｡〰️⋆｡˚𖦹 ⋆𓆞𓇼 ⋆｡〰️⋆｡˚𖦹 ⋆𓆞𓇼 ⋆｡〰️⋆｡˚𖦹 ⋆𓆞𓇼 ⋆｡〰️⋆｡˚𖦹 ⋆𓆞

nanami’s laying in your arms when he gets a call from ijichi telling him he needs to be at shibuya in an hour. and instantly you’re being filled with dread. “don’t leave,” you tell him as soon as he hangs up the phone.

but he’s already buttoning up his shirt. you huff a frustrated breath and follow him to the bathroom where he fixes his blonde locks.

“don’t go, please” you try again your voice breaking. his eyes meet yours through the mirror. your lips wobble as a tear escapes the corner of your eye. he turns around his eyes creased in worry. “darling, what’s wrong?” his voice’s sweet and soft dripping honey with every word he speaks.

“i’m scared,” you voice your worries into his chest – wetting his blue shirt with your salty tears. he tilts your face to meet his eyes. you’re quietly sobbing now – eyes red and nose turning a shade darker.

“don’t leave me,” your melancholic voice tugs at his heart. he can’t leave them when they need him the most. “i have to, it’s urgent.” he just says in return. it was hurting him to see you like this. be away from you in this state.

“no, ken, please” you drag out the word. his lips match your downturned lips. he hated not doing what you asked of him but this was different. he had people relying on him – the higher ups, his colleagues, the students, the first years…

he drops his head to yours in defeat. his fingers brush away the tears streaking your cheeks. “take me with you,” you request. “you’re pregnant,” he retorts. “so what, i can protect us,” you argue back. your technique similar to gojo’s, allows you to create an invisible barrier. the only difference was, you could include other people.

“i’m not even sure what’s happening there but i don’t wanna risk your safety.” he says placing his hand on your bump. he feels a light kick against his hand and smiles. “it’ll make you use too much cursed energy, there are too many people there,” he adds. “ken,” you’re about to say but you feel another kick – harder this time. as if telling you to listen to him.

he smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes. a part of him hurts as he lies “i’ll come back”.

“i love you kid,” he whispers as he places a kiss against your stomach. “i love you,” he tells you. holding your face firmly and placing a kiss against your lips — once, twice, and finally a third time. “i’m going to marry you when i get back,” he murmurs against your lips eliciting a teary laugh from your lips.

“promise,” you ask. “promise”. he vows.

but he doesn’t come back that night. or the night after. and you know it was normal for him to take a day or two for missions but lacks texts and calls has you crying into his pillow. a text chimes from other side of the room. you get up and move quickly — shoko’s name on your screen. you feel like your heart going to jump out of your throat. this can’t be good.

shoko: i’m so sorry.

and you don’t need to read more cause your worst fear has come true. the phone slips out of your hand and hits the floor with a loud clack. you follow as your knees buckle and a weeping “no” erupts your throat.

you gasp for air through your cries. a set of arms pulls you into a hug. “i’m here, i’m here,” he whispers into your hair. “baby, i’m here.” he says again – louder this time. you calm down slightly pulling away from the embrace to see the face of the man you love so dearly.

“kento,” your voice cracks. a hand reaching up to touch his face. was he real? you feel his freshly trimmed hair prick your fingertips as your trace his face freely. his pink lips that kiss you and mark you like a canvas, his slender nose that nudges against your playfully, & his brown eyes that never failed to take your breath away. “kento,” you say once again.

“yes, baby.” his eyes twinkle with love for you. “are you real,” you ask hazy from sleep. “i’m real,” he lets out a lighthearted chuckle. “you had another nightmare,” he cups your facd and wipes away dried tears from cheeks.

“i’m here. i’m okay. you’re okay. we’re okay.” he confirms. you sigh against his hand. his cold ring presses against your cheek and you’re reminded you’re married — have been married for a year.

you lay your head on his chest and he rubs your back comfortingly. “i was pregnant in my dream and you weren’t there”. he huffs in return. “and that’s why it’s just a dream. i’d never leave you. much less when you’re pregnant.” you smile into his chest.

“i want a baby,” you say. his body rumbles under yours with joyous laughter. “yeah?” he asks with a grin – his thumb under your chin pulling your face up to face him. “yeah,” you kiss him.

he kisses you back. his hand moves down to your neck – rubbing over your quickening pulse. you pull back and let his oversized button up fall off your shoulders. the slightly opened lets in a gentle breeze and hugs your body. the night sky is filled with moving pink clouds.

the sound of salty waves from outside, along with nanami’s gasping moan fills your ears as you lower yourself onto him. “ahhh,” your plushy walls are snug around his cock, making it hard for him to form a coherent thought.

before you can move too much, he flips you over. as much as he loved seeing you on top of him, he loved having you underneath him even more. loved seeing the way your eyes rolled back as he thrusts into you. the way your lips parted in moans and whines of his name.

“ken,” you whimper. he drops his head into your neck. kissing and biting at your soft skin. lolling out his tongue to soothe a bite. you wrap your arms around him. your nails dig into his back as he picks up the pace. the coil in your stomach grows tighter and tighter at the way his cock pushes against that sweet spot in you – turning your brain to mush and leaving your sentences incomplete.

your legs shake around his waist as you cum with a loud cry of his name. “you sure you want me to fill you up” he asks as you calm down from your orgasm. “filthy girl,” he teases when you nod with his fingers occupying your mouth. a muffled yes is all he needs to dump ropes and ropes of his seed deep into you. he pulls out his fingers from your mouth and replaces it with his tongue.

“we’re gonna make a baby,” he groans happily into your mouth.

𓇼 ⋆｡〰️⋆｡˚𖦹 ⋆𓆞𓇼 ⋆｡〰️⋆｡˚𖦹 ⋆𓆞𓇼 ⋆｡〰️⋆｡˚𖦹 ⋆𓆞𓇼 ⋆｡〰️⋆｡˚𖦹 ⋆𓆞𓇼 ⋆｡〰️⋆｡˚𖦹 ⋆𓆞

a/n: comments, likes, and reblogs are appreciated!

#✎ luna.writes #jjk #jjk nanami #kento nanami #nanami x reader #nanami kento #nanami smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu nanami #jjk fluff #jjk fic #jjk smut #jjk x reader #nanami x you #kento nanami x reader #nanami fic #nanami fluff #jjk drabbles #nanami drabbles

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vegance · 2 days

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I do agree that as vegans we need to be compassionate in our activism, that aggression and rudeness rarely work in convincing people to change a deeply ingrained cultural habit. People deserve kindness, we are all complex creatures. And I mostly abide by that. But sometimes I really wish that vegan friendly Omnis would extend that same compassion to us vegans and just try to imagine what it is like for a second.

Vegan activism does not only take place in specific contexts, in specific planned situations. You always have to be „on“. Every time you have a meal with someone new, everytime someone asks why you don’t want a hot dog, why you won’t join your colleagues on the zoo trip.

Every time someone asks you why you are vegan, you have to jump to activism mode. Be kind. Be factual. Don’t push, but don’t be a pushover. And I manage that, mostly! But when Omnis compliment vegans for being so kind and calm, I do wonder if they know that those vegans only manage because they have pushed their emotions into a box and nailed it shut. These emotions still exist!! I am actively pushing them down to be a functioning member of society and an effective advocate for the animals.

But sometimes they do come to the surface. I think most vegans had the experience of learning about a specific aspect of animal exploitation that surprised them. For me, it was the deliberate cruelty that takes place on farms and slaughter houses every day. Not cruelty for the sake of profit. Or cruelty out of indifference. Cruelty for the sake of being cruel to animals.

There is a specific video that I saw and I cannot forget. It’s not even that graphic. Some calves were being herded into another pen. But a few of them didn’t understand what was happening, where confused and frightened. This frustrated the man who was doing the job. Finally, he got the last calf to go through the gate. But this was not enough for him, because he was angry and frustrated. So he pulled that calf back into the gate, and slammed his body against the door a few times, crushing the calf in the gate.

I don’t think he even severely injured the calf. But I just can’t stop imagining what that must be like. To be a baby animal, confused and frightened. And this large creature pulls you back and hurts you. You don’t understand why this is happening. How terrifying it must be. How painful. To be so utterly under that persons dominion. The thought of someone doing that to their pet would turn most people’s stomachs.

And then I am talking to some kind, left wing person. Who donates to charity. And voted against sexiest politicians. And they say they will never be vegan, because they don’t want to.

And I just imagine myself saying to the little calf:“I’m sorry. You and your kind will have to keep going through that. Because Tim here just doesn’t want to give up this specific kind of burger.“ Sorry to the pigs screaming in the gas chambers. Sorry to the chickens dying agonizing deaths in ventilation shutdown. Sorry to all the marine animals dying of divers sickness as they are pulled out of the water way to fast. „You will have to keep enduring this. Because, you see, Tim cares more about having a specific type of pizza topping. So the unfathomable suffering you are all going through? That’s just too bad“.

And I know it’s not effective!! It’s not helpful!! But sometimes that little calf squeezes it’s way out of the bix in the back of my mind. And it’s really hard to put it back in.

#long post #veganism #that Hank green video about vegans being right but annoying #vegan #and the uncompassionate way he responded to vegans in the comments #really got to me #and so many other things #it’s so disappointing #all for justice #except the animals

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xxspringmelodyxx · 19 hours

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That Girl’s A Liar~

Satoru Gojo x F!Reader

Here is part II my lovelies! Thank you all for the support and I hope you enjoy! <333 | Part I |

"One of these days, you’re going to get yourself really hurt, Toru! You need to be more careful," I scolded the white-haired boy. I wrapped the bandage around his upper arm, trying to focus on the task at hand rather than getting distracted by his shirtless body.

Earlier that day, Satoru and Suguru had been dispatched to exorcize a particularly nasty cursed spirit that had been terrorizing a nearby town. The mission was supposed to be straightforward, but things quickly took a turn for the worse. The cursed spirit, more powerful than initially anticipated, had launched a ferocious attack. In the ensuing battle, Satoru had been injured, his arm nearly severed by a brutal strike. Despite the pain, he managed to defeat the curse with Suguru's help, but not without sustaining significant injuries.

Back at the school, I waited anxiously for their return. When I saw Satoru limping back with Suguru supporting him, my heart sank. Shoko immediately took Suguru to another room to tend to his injuries, leaving me to care for Satoru.

“Relax, Y/N. Tis but a scratch. It’ll take a lot more than that to truly hurt me!” he said with a cocky smile, his confidence radiating as usual. I looked at him with a deadpan expression, unimpressed by his bravado.

“This is not just a scratch, you idiot! Your arm was almost cut off from that curse!” I retorted, my voice filled with frustration and worry.

“Still, nothing can stop me. I’m literally the strongest sorcerer here in our high school. Probably of all time, too,” he boasted, clearly not grasping the gravity of the situation.

“Toru, for the last time, I don’t care if you are the strongest sorcerer in the world! You are still a human being, not some indestructible weapon! You could still... never mind,” I started, trailing off as my mind filled with the horrifying image of him getting severely hurt, even to the point of death.

Toru’s smirk quickly disappeared as he noticed the bright blue skies outside the window getting covered by dark clouds. He looked at me with genuine concern, fully aware that the sudden weather change was my doing, a manifestation of my emotional turmoil. I was losing control of my cursed technique.

“Hey…” he said, his voice softening. He placed his uninjured hand on my arm, snapping me out of my dark thoughts.

“I’m going to be okay, Y/N. You know that, right? I’m gonna be here for a long, long time,” he said, trying to reassure me. His attempt to comfort me only made my brows furrow deeper.

“That’s the thing, Toru. You don’t know that. And if you keep acting like nothing can stop or hurt you, you are going to eventually be met with a bad fate,” I said, clipping the wrap around his arm with a finality that echoed my worries.

“I… I just don’t want to see you hurt, okay?” I added, turning around to put everything away. My voice softened, betraying the depth of my feelings and the fear that gnawed at me every time he recklessly threw himself into danger.

Toru sighed, running his free hand through his hair. "I get it, Y/N. I really do. It's just... this is who I am. Protecting people, fighting curses—it's what I'm meant to do. But I promise you, I'll be more careful from now on," he said, his tone earnest.

I sighed. "You better. Because if you keep scaring me like this, I might just have to find a way to tie you down and keep you safe myself," I said with a weak smile, trying to lighten the mood.

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "I'd like to see you try," he teased. Toru felt his body warm up as he absorbed my words. Did you really care about him that much? The thought seemed to surprise him, stirring something deep within him that he hadn’t fully acknowledged before. Maybe, just maybe, you possibly felt something for him as well? Or did you mean it as a friend? These types of questions pondered his mind as you continued to put the medical supplies away.

“Okay, that should do it. Now let's get out of here before Utahime sees us,” I said, turning around to face him. As I did, I realized how close we were to each other, our faces only inches apart. The sudden proximity made my breath catch in my throat, and I could see the same surprise reflected in his eyes.

We both instantly tensed up, the proximity catching us off guard. The air between us felt charged, a silent tension simmering just below the surface. I could feel the warmth radiating from his body, and my heart began to race.

I quickly pulled away from him, feeling my face heat up with embarrassment. “S-Sorry. I-I didn’t—” I stammered, struggling to find the right words to diffuse the awkwardness. My mind raced, trying to process the unexpected closeness and what it might mean.

“No, don’t be,” he interrupted, his voice softer, trying to compose himself. He reached out and gently touched my arm, his touch sending a shiver down my spine. “I, uh, didn’t mind,” he added, his voice carrying an uncharacteristic vulnerability that took me by surprise.

Now all that was left was an awkward silence between us, the unspoken tension hanging heavily in the air. We both stood there, not knowing what to say next, the moment stretching out longer than it should have. Thankfully, a miracle happened when Suguru walked in, his presence breaking the silence and startling both Toru and me.

“Hey, you two. Shoko and I were thinking about going out for dinner tonight. You two are coming with us. I don’t care what you say. Shoko has been on my case all week saying how we need to all hang out,” Suguru said, instantly sensing the tension between us. He noticed how red Satoru had gotten, causing him to smirk.

“Well… I’ll just be waiting outside for you two when you’re ready,” he teased, his eyes twinkling with mischief. Just as he began to leave, he turned to face Satoru, giving him a knowing wink.

Toru just flipped him off, trying to ignore the rapid pace of his heartbeat. “That guy,” he muttered, shaking his head, but there was no real malice in his tone.

I chuckled, grateful for Suguru’s impeccable timing. “Guess we don’t have much of a choice, huh?” I said, trying to ease the lingering awkwardness. My heart was still pounding from the earlier closeness, but I tried to act normal.

“Nope. But maybe it’ll be fun,” Toru replied, a hint of his usual confidence returning. He ran a hand through his hair, still looking a bit flustered. “Let’s get going before they come back and drag us out,” he added, offering a small, somewhat shy smile.

As we made our way outside, I couldn’t help but feel a mix of emotions. The unexpected closeness with Toru had stirred something in me. I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye, wondering if he felt the same.

“So, dinner, huh? Any idea where they’re planning to go?” I asked, trying to keep the conversation light and avoid the tension that still lingered.

“No clue, but knowing Suguru, it’ll be somewhere decent,” Toru replied, his voice a bit more relaxed. He glanced at me, his eyes searching mine for a moment. “You okay? You seem… a bit off.”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I said quickly, hoping to sound convincing. “Just a lot on my mind, I guess. And, you know, you scared me today with that injury.”

Toru’s expression softened, and he reached out to touch my arm again, this time more deliberately. “I’m sorry about that. I promise I’ll be more careful. I don’t like seeing you worried,” he said, his voice sincere.

“I appreciate that, Toru. Just… take care of yourself, okay? I need my study partner with me at all times.” I joked, feeling a strange mix of relief and lingering tension.

He chuckled and nodded, his eyes lingering on me for a moment longer before we continued walking.

*****

Dinner with Suguru and Shoko turned out to be more fun than I had expected. The restaurant was a cozy place near the edge of town, known for its delicious ramen and lively atmosphere. The walls were adorned with colorful posters and fairy lights, giving the place a warm, welcoming vibe. The inviting aroma of rich broth and sizzling dishes filled the air as we walked in. Shoko was already there, waiting for us at a corner table, waving enthusiastically as soon as she spotted us.

“Hey, you two lovebirds!” she teased, her grin wide and mischievous. Both Toru and I blushed furiously, glancing at each other awkwardly.

“Cut it out, Shoko,” Toru grumbled, though his eyes sparkled with amusement. Despite his annoyance, there was a playful edge to his voice that made me smile.

As we settled in, the conversation flowed easily. Suguru recounted a hilarious story about one of their recent missions, complete with exaggerated impressions and wild gestures. Shoko chimed in with her dry wit, and soon, we were all laughing.

Despite the light-hearted atmosphere, I couldn’t help but steal glances at Toru. His laughter was infectious, his eyes crinkling at the corners when he smiled, and every time he laughed, my heart seemed to flutter a little more. I wondered if he noticed the way I looked at him, or if he felt the same way.

At one point, Toru caught me staring and our eyes locked for a moment longer than usual. I quickly looked away, feeling my cheeks heat up. Did he know what I was feeling? Did he feel it too?

“You okay?” Toru asked, his voice soft and concerned. He leaned in slightly, his presence calming yet thrilling.

“Yeah, just thinking,” I replied, trying to sound casual. “This place is really nice. Thanks for bringing us here, Shoko.”

“Anytime,” Shoko said with a wink. “I knew we all needed a break. Plus, watching you two dance around each other is the best entertainment.”

“Shoko!” I exclaimed, my face growing even hotter.

“Well, it’s true,” Suguru added with a smirk. “You two have been acting strange ever since we got here. Just saying.”

Toru cleared his throat, looking uncharacteristically flustered. “Alright, enough of that. Let’s just enjoy the food, okay?”

We all laughed, and the conversation shifted to lighter topics. As the night wore on, the laughter and camaraderie made me feel more at ease.

Midway through the meal, I excused myself to go to the restroom. As I washed my hands, I stared at my reflection in the mirror, trying to steady my racing heart. Why was it so hard to just tell him how I felt? Every time I thought I had the courage, something held me back. Maybe it was fear of rejection, or perhaps the worry that it would change everything between us.

When I returned to the table, I saw Aksana entering the restaurant. She was hard to miss with her striking blond hair and confident stride. As soon as she spotted us, her eyes lit up, and she made a beeline for our table, her gaze zeroing in on Toru.

“Hey, Satoru!” she greeted, her voice overly sweet and completely ignoring the rest of us.

“Aksana,” he acknowledged her with a nod. His usually bright eyes seemed a touch colder, and I couldn’t help but wonder if he was annoyed by her sudden appearance.

“Mind if I join you guys?” she asked, not waiting for a response before pulling up a chair next to Toru. She slid into the seat, her proximity to him making my stomach churn.

Suguru and Shoko exchanged glances, sensing the tension immediately. Suguru raised an eyebrow at me, while Shoko gave a small, sympathetic smile. I tried to focus on my food, but Aksana’s presence made it difficult. She leaned in close to Toru, laughing at his jokes in an exaggerated manner and touching his arm whenever she got the chance.

“So, Toru, I heard you had a pretty intense mission today,” Aksana said, her voice dripping with false concern. “You must be exhausted. Maybe I could help you relax later?”

Toru shifted uncomfortably, clearly not enjoying the attention. “I’m fine, really,” he replied, trying to gently brush her off. “Just needed some time with my friends.”

“Oh, but I’m sure they wouldn’t mind if I borrowed you for a bit,” she insisted, her smile not reaching her eyes. “Right, Y/n?”

I forced a smile, though it felt more like a grimace. “Actually, Aksana, we were in the middle of something. Maybe another time?”

Aksana’s eyes flicked to me with what seemed to be disgust, her smile faltering for a split second before she regained her composure. “Oh, of course. I just thought Satoru might like a change of company.”

Suguru, sensing the rising tension, decided to step in. “Actually, we’re all having a really good time together. It’s been a while since we all hung out like this.”

Shoko nodded in agreement, adding, “Yeah, I’ve been wanting us all to hang out again, so tonight seemed like a good night to do so.”

Aksana’s smile was tight, clearly masking her irritation. “Oh, well then, don’t mind me. I’ll just be sitting here, listening to your stories.” Her tone was overly sweet, but the fake smile gave her away.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur. The food was delicious, and the conversation lively, but Aksana’s presence cast a shadow over the fun. She kept trying to insert herself into our conversations, making pointed comments and giving Toru lingering looks. I even almost lost control of my cursed technique because she kept hugging his arm. And by that I mean the winds started to pick up like crazy outside, causing the doors to blow open, which startled a lot of people. Shoko thankfully brought me back to my senses, but it was still so aggravating to see Aksana practically throw herself on Toru. By the time we left the restaurant, I was feeling more confused and frustrated than ever.

Toru walked me home, the silence between us thick with unspoken words. The night air was cool, and I could feel the tension building with every step. Finally, we reached my doorstep. I turned to him, searching for the right words to express my feelings.

“Toru, I…” I began, my voice trailing off as I looked into his deep blue eyes.

“Yeah?” he prompted, his gaze fixed on mine, full of curiosity and something else I couldn’t quite place.

Before I could continue, my phone buzzed with a message from Kai. He needed help with the science project again.

Damnit, I forgot we needed to start working on that.

I recalled the scene vividly, etched into my memory like a photograph frozen in time. The classroom hummed with nervousness as Mr. Takahashi dropped the bombshell: a major science project due at the end of the semester…two months away.

—flashback—

“Y/n, you’ll be partnered with Kai,” Sensei Takahashi announced, gesturing towards Kai who was grinning nervously.

Kai’s eyes met mine briefly, and I could sense his relief mixed with a tinge of apprehension. “Looks like it’s you and me,” I said, offering a reassuring smile to calm his nerves.

“Yeah, for the next four months,” Kai replied, his voice tinged with what seemed to be disappointment. I looked towards him and found his eyes looking at someone else. I followed his gaze and saw him staring at another girl in our class, Amai, his expression softening with admiration.

I couldn't help but chuckle inwardly as I noticed Kai's subtle admiration for Amai. It was clear that he had a crush on her, which I thought was adorable.

"W-What?" he stammered, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment at being caught.

"Nothing, just thinking," I replied casually, suppressing a smile as I reached for a pencil and paper.

"Now, let's start brainstorming some ideas. What do you think we should do our project over?" I initiated, launching into a discussion about potential topics. Despite the distraction of Kai's crush, we delved into a detailed exchange of ideas, weighing the pros and cons of each suggestion.

—end of flashback—

I sighed, feeling torn between my responsibilities and my emotions. This moment was slipping away, just like so many others.

“Never mind,” I said, forcing a smile to hide my disappointment. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

Toru nodded, but there was a hint of disappointment in his eyes that mirrored my own feelings. “Yeah, see you tomorrow.”

As I watched him walk away, I couldn’t help but wonder what might have happened if I had just spoken up. Would he have understood? Would it have changed anything? The weight of my unspoken feelings pressed heavily on my heart. I turned and went inside, trying to shake off the lingering frustration.

That night, as I lay in bed, my mind replayed the evening’s events over and over. Aksana’s blatant attempts to get Toru’s attention, the way his eyes had softened when he looked at me, and the unspoken words that hung between us. It was all too much to process, and sleep came slowly.

*****

The next day at school, I was determined to talk to Toru, to finally clear the air between us. The tension that we had yesterday had been gnawing at me all night, and I couldn't bear another day of uncertainty. I spotted him near his locker, and with a deep breath, I began to make my way over.

As I approached, I noticed Aksana was already there, her laughter echoing through the hallway.

”Oh Toru, you’re really a great guy!” She praised, spotting me in the distance. Her eyes narrowed a bit as she continued to talk to him.

“You know, I actually need help with my homework and I was wondering if you could help me with it now since we have some free time?” She asked. As Toru was about to answer, he spotted you in the corner of his eye and turned towards you, a small, hopeful smile tugging at his lips, making my heart flutter with anticipation.

I smiled back and quickened my pace, but just as I was about to reach him, Kai stepped in front of me, blocking my path. "Y/N, I need to talk to you about something," Kai said urgently, his voice low. Toru's smile faded slightly as he noticed the interruption.

"Well, actually Kai, I'm kind of in the middle of something important," I replied, trying to keep the frustration out of my voice.

"Please, Y/N. It’s about Amai," Kai insisted, his eyes pleading. He leaned in closer, ensuring our conversation remained private. "I need your help."

Confusion flickered across my face as I looked up at him. Meanwhile, Toru's eyes narrowed, a twinge of jealousy evident as he watched us.

"What's going on, Kai?" I asked, my curiosity piqued despite the awkward timing.

Kai glanced around nervously before speaking. "I want to ask Amai to the dance, but I have no idea how to do it. I need your help to get to know her better."

I smiled softly at him, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Toru's jaw clenched subtly at the sight. "Kai, the dance is still a while away. You have plenty of time to get to know her," I said, trying to calm his nerves.

"But that's the problem. I'm so nervous around her. I need someone to be there when I talk to her. Please, be my wingman," Kai pleaded, his desperation clear. He grabbed my hands, his earnestness almost palpable.

Toru's gaze darkened at the intimate gesture, his jealousy simmering just below the surface. I nodded towards Kai, deciding to help him after I got talk to Toru.

"Okay, I'll help you," I said, squeezing Kai's hands briefly before pulling away. "But wait here for a moment, I need to handle something first."

Before I could take another step, I saw Aksana grab Toru’s arm, her voice still bright and cheerful. “So, Toru, about that homework…” she trailed off, leading him away. My heart clenched slightly as I watched them walk off together.

"Y/N? Is everything alright?" Kai asked, his concern evident.

I sighed, feeling a wave of disappointment wash over me. "Yeah, let's just go," I replied, my voice heavy with frustration. The chance to clear things up with Toru had slipped away again.

*****

"Wait, I need to talk to—" Toru started, quickly removing Aksana's hand from his arm. He turned around, his eyes searching for me, but he was too late. I was already walking away with Kai.

"Are you alright, Toru? You seem tense," Aksana asked, her voice filled with concern as she noticed the change in Toru's demeanor.

Toru forced a smile, trying to mask his frustration. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just... thinking about some stuff," he replied vaguely, his gaze lingering where I had disappeared with Kai. The sight of me with someone else stirred a mix of regret and irritation within him.

Aksana's eyes followed his, her brow furrowing slightly. "Is everything okay between you two?" she asked gently, her voice soft. Aksana knew what she was doing. She feigned concern, but inside, she relished the friction between us. It was her chance to step in and take my place.

Toru hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal. "It's... complicated," he admitted reluctantly, his thoughts still consumed by my departure with Kai. The unresolved tension gnawed at him, leaving him unsettled.

Aksana nodded understandingly, her expression sympathetic. "Well, if you ever need someone to talk to, I'm here," she offered, placing a hand on his arm. He quickly removed it, the touch making him uncomfortable.

"Thanks, Aksana," he said, forcing a polite smile. His mind was still preoccupied with thoughts of you, and the conversation he desperately wanted to have.

“So, shall we go to that small little cafe and you can help me with the homework?” She asked.

"Sorry…I gotta go," he added abruptly, his voice strained. Leaving Aksana behind, he walked away, his emotions in turmoil. He needed to clear his head and find a way to resolve the growing tension between you two.

Aksana huffed as she watched the white haired boy leave her alone in the school hallway. She tapped her foot, folding her arms together as if she were in thought.

“Looks like I need to play harder…”

____________

Part III coming soon!

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annegrey · 17 hours

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Late night surprise - a "Two for the price of One" story

Max x fem!reader x Kelly

Okay, I never thought that so many people would like my story, so you can imagine I was quite floored when I was actually ASKED to do another. So here it is! I’m always happy about feedback, so don’t hold back! Also: would you like some (domestic) fluff with them? Like, how they got together, how it would be open for discussion who would love the Disney movie more between the adults and P. Just let me know. And now: to the smut!

You didn’t hear the door, too focused on thrusting in and out of Kelly with the strap-on, which rubbed your clit almost the right way, like a constant tease, but when you mentioned it to your lovers before, they just kissed your cheeks at the same time, and Kelly whispered “We know, you should see how desperate you look when you fuck me with it. Concentrating on pleasuring me, and at the same time so frustrated because it just doesn’t work for you.” So you never replaced that stupid, annoying, wonderful strap-on, whining and panting while pushing Kelly’s legs up to get even deeper.

But it seemed like she heard something, maybe the lock, maybe the closing, maybe even the steps, as the woman turned her head, smiling at the man standing in the doorway, watching the scene before him. Only then you yourself looked up, and blinked in surprise when you saw Max. But when you started to slow down, a sharp slap to your butt told you to go on. Kelly was quite demanding, and you knew you would be rewarded in the best way possible whenever you obeyed.

“I thought you would come back tomorrow”, Kelly panted, and it was a bit annoying that she still had the brain cells to speak coherently. With a huff, you angled your hips a bit, and that seemed to do the trick, as she moaned loudly. Max still stood there, silent, with a smirk on his lips. He once admitted that he loved watching you two fuck, it was one of his biggest turn-ons. Especially after you started to feel more comfortable, often holding eye contact while still blushing furiously.

After another moment he pushed himself off the doorway and strolled over to the bed. “I convinced the others to let me go earlier. I missed you, with how stressful everything was, I just needed to be with you”, he mumbled, leaning down to give Kelly a truly filthy kiss, before turning and granting you the same treatment. You whined again, trying to chase after him when he pulled back, but another slap on your butt-cheek drew your attention back to the main program.

Almost as if you were apologizing, you kissed the woman beneath you, then slowly worked your way down to suck on her right tit, drawing another moan from her throat. Her hands immediately buried themselves in your hair, making sure you stayed in place.

You felt the mattress dip, signaling that Max finally joined you. But Kelly didn’t let up, making it impossible for you to look at the man. Which didn’t mean you were unaware of what he was doing. A hand, his hand, snuck between your bodies, starting to rub Kelly’s clit in a way that always drove her crazy.

Her moans got louder, with that specific pitch they only got when she was close, and you had to grin against her breast. As the ‘new one’ in this relationship, even after months, it always made you proud to make her cum. Both of them once praised you on how quickly you caught on, knowing now on how to make it more than pleasurable for both of them, if still not as well as the both of them. But to be fair, they had years of relationship behind, so it would be kind of weird and sad if you were better than one of them.

You were pulled out of your thoughts when your hair was gripped so hard that you hissed in pain, and Kelly arched her back, her moan drawn out and raw, before she collapsed back, panting. Not that she let go of you, or that you stopped thrusting, it was just slower, gentler. Just how she liked when she came down from her orgasm. Only when the woman finally pulled your head up to give you a soft, deep kiss, you pulled out.

Immediately two hands were on your hips, pulling on the harness that kept the strap-on in place, and you didn’t even have the chance to help before Max had it off your body and pulled you around, until you laid next to Kelly, your face pushed into the pillows and your ass raised.

It always caused goosebumps and shivers when Max manhandled you like that, and your lovers teased you often enough about how much of a submissive slut you were, whether it was how Kelly commanded you or how Max used his strength on you. And you couldn’t deny it, you loved being their good, sweet girl. No matter that Max was actually the youngest in the relationship, by two fucking weeks. Which you never let him forget.

Any thought left your brain as you finally felt the hard length push into you, and you gripped the sheets, gasping for breath. One of your hands was carefully pulled away and intertwined with Kelly’s, and when you turned your head to look at her, her eyes were both loving and hungry. It apparently was a thing for all three of you, to watch two of you fuck, you were just as guilty of this pleasure as them.

Then Max started moving, and you closed your eyes with a soft moan. Normally the one watching would force you to look at them, but it seemed like today Kelly was in a merciful mood. She just ran her fingers over your cheek, while you drooled over the fabric beneath you, and then you heard her address Max: “Be nice, she was so good today.” Another shiver ran over your body, and you whimpered as Max gripped your hip with one hand, while the other reached beneath you, to softly rub your clit.

Whining and squirming, at least as much as his hard grip allowed, you pushed back against him, the frustrating teasing of the harness helping you to reach your orgasm even faster than normal. But you forced yourself to keep it together, because if you came now, you would leave Max hanging high and dry.

Once again Kelly proved her eerie ability to know exactly what you were thinking, as she leaned to you and softly kissed your cheek. “Just let go. As I said, you were so good today. You don’t need to take care of him, I’ll do it. Relax and enjoy it.” And you don’t even know when it happened, but somewhen in the last months your body became so attuned to her, to her commands, that you felt yourself going pliant, letting yourself just feel.

Max, in an attempt to help, placed soft kisses along your neck, until he came to that specific spot, just below your hairline on the back of your head, your sweet spot where only a small breath would cause goosebumps to appear all over your body, and bit down. That was the last drop, the last push you needed. With a guttural moan you came.

Clenching around Max, you sobbed, gripping Kelly’s hand even harder. But he didn’t stop, he kept thrusting into you, causing you to squirm again, biting your lower lip, until your mouth dropped open again, panting and crying out. Just to feel another orgasm approach. That was something you found out not too long ago, the fact that you were actually able to cum multiple times in a row, as long as Max didn’t change a single thing.

It was scary at first, the overwhelming feeling of pleasure, bordering on pain, and no end in sight. Just to end in another peak. The record was four in a row, and that ended in your actually crying and needing to be held even closer than normal. But as soon as you were able to speak again, you reassured both of them that you actually loved it, that it more than blew your mind, and that you would love to try it again. Just… not anytime soon, otherwise your body might break.

Equipped with that knowledge, Max just kept going, just as you kept gasping and sobbing. It didn’t take long for you to finally cum again, and that was the sign for Max to slow down. Two was the limit for normal days, when you didn’t prepare for the mind-mush that came with more than two. A few last thrusts, then he carefully pulled out, but you still hissed.

Rolling to the side, still holding Kelly’s hand, you tried to gather your thoughts and closed your eyes for a second. It must have been longer, you must have blacked out for a moment, because when you opened them again, Max was on his back, whimpering just like you were moments ago, with Kelly holding his hip down and deepthroating his cock.

You personally knew how talented her mouth was, and you had witnessed how quickly she could cause Max to cum this way, so you grinned to yourself and watched while the driver was driven crazy by that wonderful, wonderful mouth.

When the signs of his end were showing, you forced yourself up to lean on your elbows and kissed him, while playing with his nipple with one hand. He didn’t really kiss back, just some sloppy movements, another sign that he was close.

His moans turned to groans, and then he seized up with a pleasured cry, probably trying to thrust into Kelly’s mouth, but that woman was stronger than she looked, without any trouble keeping him pinned down.

A few moments after, he was panting as if he had just run a marathon, and Kelly crawled upwards to press a kiss first on his lips, then on yours. She gave you a few seconds, before patting both of your thighs, and grinning. “Come now, we all need a shower. If you are quick, I’ll change the sheets while you shower.” That was definitely an incentive, and while it took you both a moment, Max and you crawled out of bed and stumbled into the bathroom. Because sleeping in a sweaty bed was really gross, and not having to change the sheets yourself was always a plus.

#formula 1 #formula1 #f1 #fanfiction #max verstappen #x fem!reader #x female reader #kelly piquet #max verstappen x reader x kelly piquet #max verstappen x you x kelly piquet #max x reader x kelly #max x you x kelly #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #kelly piquet x you #kelly piquet x reader

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hannahssimblr · 2 days

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I’m on my bed, fully clothed, and I cannot remember how I got here. I don’t know if I’m sitting up or lying down, or what is wall and what is ceiling. When I try to turn to my side, the room twists like a funhouse around me, the bed tilting like it's intent to slide me right off it. Am I alone? I think so.

That's my phone, the bright square of light. It lays on the sheets beside my face, and I grab it. Her name is right there. It's intuitive, too easy to find.

It rings three, four times, and she picks up. “Jude?” She's sleepy. I woke her.

“I’m sorry Michelle,” I slur, and I mean to be sorry for disturbing her, but she seems to assume that I’m apologising for much more than that.

She sighs, “I know you are, and I’m sorry too.”

“You’re sorry?”

“Yeah. Are you drunk?”

“Uh huh.” I should likely be sorry for that too.

“Where are you? Why are you drunk dialling me?” She doesn’t seem annoyed with me, concerned, hopeful, maybe, so I tell her the truth, “I miss you.”

I assume maybe I’ve passed out or somehow hallucinated this entire exchange because she's not responding, but then she sucks in a lungful of air and her voice trembles, “I miss you too, I wish you were here right now.”

“No, I was a bad boyfriend.”

“You weren’t.”

“I was the worst.”

“Not always.”

“...It's hard being on my own.”

“Yeah, for me too. Every single day has been horrible.”

I feel the kind of crushing, exaggerated sadness that I only ever do when I’ve had too much to drink, like I’m tumbling into a pit of despair so deep that the sun will never warm my face again. I can't think of a good reason why I have done this. “Sometimes I don’t want to go to Berlin,” I tell her hoarsely.

“Yeah,” she says, then hesitating like she wants to choose her words carefully, “You know that you don’t have to go, though.”

“I dunno.”

“You could stay in Dublin if you wanted to, It’s not too late. If the thought of leaving makes you too sad.”

That sounds deeply depressing, but being on my own is depressing too, and then I’m so frustrated that I fear I will start crying or something, “I can’t think.”

“You’re just drunk, but I think you’re saying this because it’s what you really mean.”

“Maybe.”

“I love you,” she says, and I hear her sitting up in bed, struck with urgency, “I haven't stopped feeling the same way about you, I still love you, and I want you to stay, if you're even considering it at all then that means-”

“Alright,” A group of guys pass by on the road outside, boisterously chanting some tuneless song and I’m conscious that I, or whoever brought me in here, never closed the curtains. I don't want other men to see me like this, and yet I'm unable to move.

“‘Alright’, as in, you’ll stay?” She says hopefully.

“No, like, that I heard you.”

“I think we’re supposed to be together.”

I wonder if she really believes that. Do I believe that? Maybe. “Mm. Maybe I’ll stay,” Sleep pulls at my eyes, which now rest unfocussed on a shimmery patch of sand outside the window. In the distance the waves roar against the shore, a lullaby. Sleep encroaches the corners of my vision and begins to suck me under.

“Please,” she says, really crying now, “I don’t want to be on my own. I’ve been imagining you finding someone else and falling in love with them and it makes me feel sick.”

“I wouldn’t do that.”

A sniffle, “No?”

“No, I don’t ever think about other people, just you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Never ever ever. You're my girl.”

She sobs gently.

“Shell, I think I’m an idiot.”

“You’re not, you just made a selfish decision. You can still fix it and make it okay.”

My eyes are too heavy and the world is too weird and dizzy looking to keep them open, “Will you forgive me?” I manage with the last of my energy, but I’m too sleepy to listen to her answer. I pass out in three seconds, the phone warm in my palm, the speakers buzzing gently with the sound of her voice.

In the blinding light of the morning, though my head pounds and every colour and pattern is an assault on my senses, before doing another thing, I grab my phone from my pillow to see new messages from Michelle. I don't read any of them.

Hey.

I type.

I was really drunk. Disregard anything I said, I don't even remember what we talked about.

Beginning // Prev // Next

#lucky boy 2010 #A MESS #get a grip Jude #embarrassing #tw: alcohol #tw: drinking #tw: drunk

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braunbakery · 2 days

Note

oohh can it be like ‘are we still friends?’ a modern au? that’s one of my favs ❤️

don't delete the kisses

☞ jean kirstein x fem reader [ one-shot word count: 4.2k]

☞ sfw, angst with fluff at the end i promiseeeee, modern college au

☞ plot: 'rewriting old excuses, delete the kisses at the end' - even after you break up - jean kirstein seems to occupy a lot more space in your head than you'd care to admit.

☞ inspired by don't delete the kisses - wolf alice

☞ don't delete the kisses

when you and jean first broke up it was more so a scramble to make sure everything was okay for everybody around you. that everything could resolve to being as close to normal as before without anyone feeling in anyway inconvenienced, awkward, or disappointed due to the rift now between the two of you.

at least, that was what it was like for you.

of course people wanted to make sure you were okay, they were your friends and they cared about you. but they were both of your friends, and despite how much everyone wanted to pretend that that made no difference, it made it all the more difficult to even imagine talking about how you felt. (how you actually felt – which was more than disappointed or frustrated or a little upset – as you had been basically rattling off like a mantra to whoever asked.)

so you adapted.

you made friends outside of this mutual friend group, you adopted new hobbies, you had a means of escape when you no longer wanted to watch everyone laugh over jean’s antics like he was such a breath of joy. when you felt this bitter pessimism sink in at the wrong time, you adapted.

because it definitely wasn’t a dramatic break up. it was perfectly amicable.

(“i’m so sorry,” jean practically sobs into your shoulder as you both sit in his dark car, shrouded by the trees outside and only accompanied by crickets and the occasional distant car horn.

“it’s okay, it’s okay,” you’re repeating over and over, swallowing your own tears, “i’ll be fine.”

“i just can’t do it–” jean hiccups and slightly leans back to hold your face in his palms and nudge his nose against yours, “ i don’t know why...i just can’t. and i’m trying, i swear.”

“i believe you,” you whisper, grasping onto his shirt, “i know you are.”

“i- i’ve never felt this way about anyone else. i’m just not ready.”

you can’t bring yourself to say anything back to that. you don’t want him to see you break and you don’t know if it’s because you don’t want him to tear himself apart with the guilt of what he’s doing to you or from some twisted sense of pride – some desire to make sure he doesn’t think he has as much of an effect on you as he really does.

it seems worse that he can tearfully speak of how much he feels for you yet he’s still unable to actually be with you.

you know that the truth is you probably won’t be fine. that in your heart, in your soul, you would’ve stayed with him for as long as possible. there was no thought in your head of when this would potentially end, no plan in the future that didn’t somehow automatically account for him.

this obviously wasn’t the case for him.

he hugs you tighter than he ever has before and you feel like your heart is about to lurch out of your body and try batter its way into his. why must it be that when you are completely and utterly committed to him, he is hindered by some unexplainable force in his mind to do the same for you? why can’t it be another girl? why can’t it be that he’s moving away? why does it have to be just…him?

“i’m sorry,” he says a final time after he drives you to your doorstep. he holds your hand and gazes at you one last time and you can’t help but offer him a smile to try ease his pain. it is too difficult for you to feel in anyway betrayed, at least in this moment, because you are too busy thinking of how he feels. you want to hold him for the rest of the night as he sobs and sobs about hurting you.

you feel utterly pathetic.

that night, when you are finally in your bed, you let the first feeling that isn’t in some way catering to him through. it is the sensation of your heart caving in. )

eventually it gets easier. the concerned glances go from sparse to none and you follow almost a routine. when you pass each other on campus it’s a friendly smile, when you’re seated next to each other you act as if it is anyone else, and when you’re at the same parties and he kisses someone you turn away and hold your breath and hope no one can tell.

you pretend that it was never you on the receiving end, that it was never you laughing away with him or swaying to whatever stupid song is playing, or holding his hand as you weave through the crowd, or occupying one single corner of the room for the majority of the night or–

you just pretend.

and when the group brings up dates jean is going on that you had no idea about, you do that very thing. you sit and you nod and when he catches your gaze as the boys are practically squawking over stupid jokes about jean and how he is somehow going to mess it up, you rip your eyes away and laugh along.

when sasha and mikasa ask how you feel about it, you pretend it makes perfect sense that he’d be going on dates. that it isn’t so utterly confusing, that you aren’t going to lay awake at night wondering why he couldn’t be with you – why he wasn’t ready for you – but he is ready to entertain the idea of someone else. you laugh and you say you wish him luck.

luck is what friends wish each other.

and when you kiss someone yourself, you bury the darkest feeling of hoping he’d see and feel a pang – feel anything more than the baseline friendliness you’ve both resorted to having for each other. that you’ve agreed to only have for each other.

(“fuck, sorry!” jean exclaims before he even realises that the person he’s just walked into and spilled half of his beer on is you.

“shit,” the sticky liquid is soaking through your shirt and is currently trailing its way down your body. you look up at him and you hate that you can tell the redness lightly painted on his cheeks is more so from his alcohol buzz and less from the embarrassment of spilling his drink down a girls shirt.

because it’s you. why would he be embarrassed around you? he knows–

he knew you inside and out.

“i didn’t see you, i swear,” he says, but the genuineness of his apology is given away by the cheeky smile adorning his face, “suits you though.”

“shut up, jean,” you quickly remark, taking off your jacket and trying to pat yourself dry.

“here,” and jean is suddenly taking off the plaid shirt he has thrown on top of his t-shirt and using it to pat you down. or more so using it for his sad attempt at helping.

“i don’t think that’s really doing anything, jean.”

“no, no. trust me,” he quickly interjects, and you can’t help but mirror the stupid smile he has on his face.

“jean, it’s fine. i’ll just get a paper tow– ”you attempt to side step him, but he’s shoved in front of you, still pushing his shirt to your top. but this time he’s a lot closer.

this time if you just reached up to your tip toes, you could brush your nose against his. and you’re suddenly hyperaware of your proximity and how there is no one else around you and how the blaring music of whatever party your group all decided to go to tonight is all but muffled in this kitchen.

jean’s eyes travel up from the stain on your top to you and you feel like you’re frozen in place. it’s been months since you broke up – a year maybe. you’ve both watched each other kiss other people, you’ve listened to him recount those stupid dates and pretend you don’t harbour some kind of bitter resentment towards him for it.

but right now it seems like no time at all has passed.

it seems like only yesterday you were leaning into each other, just like you are now. it seems like only yesterday jean’s hand slowly but instinctively went up to the side of your neck, like it is now. you’ve never realised how easy it is to fall into old habits.

“jean?” you mutter faintly, and he looks down at your lips mouthing his name and you swear you think your heart is going to stop. his eyes flick back up to you and you can see yourself through them.

“yeah?” he mindlessly responds, “are you okay?”

are you? you could kiss him now. you could let him kiss you now. just for a moment. and tomorrow you’d make yourself forget, tomorrow you’d pretend it was one big blip – something just between you and him.

when you nod your head at his question his hand slides up into the hair at your nape and it feels so familiar, so comfortable, that it is so easy to forget you have not been this close to jean in almost a year. you have not spent this much time alone with jean in almost a year. you have not heard him not speak to you in the same transactional tone you’d speak to a shop assistant with in almost a year.

“i –”

the door to the kitchen is opening behind you and you’re both practically jumping away from each other, hearts beating so fast against your chests and eyes wide and worried. jean watches whoever’s interrupted whatever weird moment you were having rummage through the cupboards and looks back at you.

“i’ll see you–” you start.

“later.” he instinctively finishes off for you, before pausing for a moment and making his way around you and back out into the bustling party.

you don’t see him for the rest of the night.)

it does really start feel like you’re friends sometimes. and you suppose living with that just becomes a way of life. the weird lingering feeling when you first see him still remains – but it starts to feel normal. you start to simply allow it the space to live and hope that on its own accord it’ll leave.

and sometimes, with all the time that has passed and all the other flings with boys you’ve had, it feels stupid. and sometimes, you’re tired of feeling stupid so you just feel it.

you text about assignments in classes you share, you text about carpooling when jean is bringing a few of you somewhere. and, yes, it is the most surface level friendship and the conversation will never really expand from those two topics and maybe you are yet to actually spend any time together alone. maybe there is some hidden agenda between your friends to not let there be moments where you two have to be alone – but this is better than whatever the lonely alternative would be.

however, it seems whatever way your friends have been figuring out to not have you two alone for the past year and a half (disregarding the party incident – they will never know about that) is failing.

because you’re currently stranded at a bus stop for a bus that doesn’t look like it will ever come, trying to make it to connie’s house for his goodbye party before he goes away for the summer and almost an hour late. because you’re staring down at your phone trying to figure out how you feel, trying to reason with your gritted teeth and racing heart that everything will be okay.

staring down at jean’s message into the group chat you all share after you’ve explained your situation.

jean

Only leaving mine now I’ll swing by and get you

fuck.

this is not something you have a plan for. this is not a situation that you’ve dealt with before in the tribulations that have followed your break up. this doesn’t have a solution tucked away in your head. there is no adapting to this, there is no pretending, there is just you alone with jean in his car for the first time since you broke up. the last time you were in that stupid fucking car was when you broke up and oh god, what a joke.

you know he’s driving and he won’t check his phone so there’s no point in telling him not to and figuring out some alternative transport. and you know he’s not waiting for some confirmation from you because…because you know him.

cars are speeding past you and you’re trying so hard to get a handle on your thoughts but you can’t seem to just get a grip. it feels like every next car is going to be him. you turn your back to the road and try to start writing some kind of text to mikasa…but what is there to even say?

you’ve crafted the perfect unbothered-about-jean persona over the past year and a half. you’ve basically mastered a straight face whenever a crude joke is made about him and whatever girl he’s casually seeing, you’ve perfected acting completely normal when asked about him – you cannot give yourself away.

no, you refuse to give yourself away.

“hey!” a voice bellows out from behind you, and you can instinctively tell that when you turn around it’s going to be jean with his elbow hanging out his open car window. so you do – you turn around (and you’re right about his exact pose, but that’s a victory you don’t allow yourself to celebrate) and you make your way to the passenger side, get in, close the door and brace yourself.

“thanks for getting me,” you say as you put on your seat belt and jean pulls out onto the road.

“no worries.”

it’s only when you’re well on your way that you can think of something else to say – any kind of bland conversation to cut you out of your thoughts.

“how come you’re late?”

“how come you are?” jean almost instinctively says.

“no need to get defensive,” you laugh.

“what can i say,” jean smiles, “i’m quite a private person.”

“oh, really?”

“yep,” he swiftly responds, eyes darting to you before he sighs, “i fell asleep watching a movie.”

now you’re cackling, “of course you did, jean.” you try not to notice the corners of his mouth turning upwards as you laugh and he focuses on the road.

“you didn’t say why you were, i can’t be the only one revealing all here.”

“i wouldn’t say this is revealing all,” you say and jean animatedly rolls his eyes, “i was at work.”

“oh,” jean replies, “work…where’re you working now?” he asks with such hesitance, like it’s almost rude for him to want to know anything about your life beyond what he knew when he was with you and the bits and pieces he can put together from everyone else. you try not to think about how you wish you could tell him everything – everything that has changed and everything that hasn’t.

“the same shop.”

“that shop is a shithole–”

“hey!” you’re immediately interjecting and jean is chuckling at your offense.

“it is!”

jean starts swatting your hand away with one hand as you try to punch him in his arm, laughing in a way you haven’t heard him for a while. in a way you haven’t had a chance to hear.

“take it back, take it back” you’re repeating in between lunges and jean exclaiming ‘you’re gonna get us both killed’ and ‘i’m literally driving’.

“fine! i take it back!” he’s saying as the car finally comes to a standstill in a long line of traffic. he looks over to you for the first time this entire ride, turning his entire head and scanning your face. you hope your composure holds, “all i’m trying to say is that it doesn’t deserve you.”

you really hope your composure holds.

“right,” you say after a pause. jean’s eyes flit between yours and you feel like maybe there’s something more you’re supposed to say. maybe there’s something more he’s trying to say. or maybe the ultimately doomed remnants of your feelings towards him combined with his unwavering stare and tapping fingers on his wheel are making you think things and see things that don’t make sense.

jean only turns his head back to the road when a car horn blares behind him and he realises the light’s gone green.

“fuck,” jean raises his hand up to the driver and then glances at you as the car moves again, “sorry.”

“distracted,” you quip, and jean laughs again.

“i guess you could say that.”

“what’s on your mind?” you ask.

“huh? nothing.” his head momentarily turns to you, “beer.” and you both break out into the same smiles you used to wear around each other without noticing.

“not your familiar brigade of girls?” you’re saying without realising, and before you can even begin to regret your stupidly pointed joke, jean is guffawing so loudly you’re convinced he’s going to run the next red light.

“brigade?!” he questions, looking at you with wide eyes, “you’re making me sound like some sort of…” he loses his words and you feel maybe you really did take him by surprise with your unexpected candour.

“some sort of what?” you implore.

jean is silent, then turns to you with feigned annoyance and a twinkle in his eye, “shut up.”

and you’re both laughing and looking at each other and there it is again. that twinkle. that sparkle. you could miss it if you didn’t know exactly where to find it from so long ago.

a comfortable silence settles between the two of you and you can tell connie’s house is nearby. jean speaks first, “i can assure you there’s no such brigade.”

you snigger, “i don’t need to be assured.”

then jean is pulling into connie’s house and you can slightly make out music blaring from inside and silhouettes through the drawn curtains and the last bit of light from the late summer sun. he turns off the engine and you wait for him to take out his keys, yet he never does. you stare at the door handle, yet never go to pull it. neither one of you is making a move and when you turn your head to him, he’s already looking at you.

“i– ” “i–” you both attempt to start simultaneously, and then cut yourselves off with laughter.

“we haven’t spoken properly in so long,” jean eventually starts, “like this i mean.” (your heart is in your throat. you wonder if he can make out its outline when he looks at you.)

“yeah,” you softly say, “i know.”

“it’s nice.”

“it is.”

you’re looking at each other in silence again, and you can tell that his mind is racing with thoughts and he’s waiting to see which one catches onto his tongue and makes its way out. you think he can probably tell the same about you. it’s like some kind of competition, some game on who is going to keep this conversation going so you can stay in the car together for longer. alone.

you wonder if anyone inside has peeked through the window and noticed yet.

“you know…” jean speaks again and you are internally grateful, because you don’t think you can trust yourself to say anything right now, “you know, i notice that you avoid me, right?”

“that is not true.”

jean practically giggles at your immediate denial.

“it is,” he says, “it’s fine. i think i understand.”

“you do?”

“yeah, i–” jean trips over his own words, like they keep getting muddled in his mouth and he has to sound them out in his head before he can continue, “like… i can imagine it’s not easy. it wasn’t for me.”

your eyebrows instinctively raise, “it wasn’t?”

he laughs, and you suppose it is stupid to assume that he wasn’t in anyway upset about breaking up or stressed about having to maintain a friendship with you. you suppose it was easier to assume he didn’t care about you, like he was some kind of heartless villain.

“well, was it for you?”

you pause. a decision: how honest can you be with the person that seems to have haunted you for so long?

“no,” you shake your head, “not really. not at first.”

now jean’s eyebrows raise, “so it is now?”

“i… i don’t know,” the words practically tumble out of you, “why are you asking?”

your phone buzzes in your lap and both of your eyes instinctively dart to the lit up screen.

mikasa

You coming in?

you look back up at the house and can spot the curtain rustling. you’ve been noticed. but when you look back at jean, regardless of whatever audience might be wondering what you two are still doing in the car, you still have no desire to leave. this might be the only chance you have to finally be honest with yourself – with anyone – about how you feel.

you take a deep breath, and jean watches you carefully.

“you…” you try to start, unsure of what you’re saying or what you’re trying to achieve, “you know you really hurt me?”

“i know,” jean nods, regret undeniably flashing in his eyes, “i will always feel so bad–”

“you made me feel…small. like i wasn’t enough–”

“you are enough,” jean looks like he’s almost pleading with you. it feels like you’re back in his car on that damned night. like you’re back walking on eggshells and waiting for one to finally pierce through your foot.

“then…then why would you go on dates when you said you weren’t ready for a relationship? that you couldn’t do it?”

your throat feels raw and tight. you cannot break in front of him again. jean seems surprised to hear his words from that night repeated back to him.

“i don’t know. it was stupid,” he breathes, “i…i was trying to forget.”

“forget what?”

“forget you.”

it feels like if the world was to collapse around you, you would not be able to bat an eyelid if you were to remain in this car with jean. it’s a terrifying thought and it feels like the rush of your blood and the pulsing of your heart is going to get too big for your body and you’re going to burst.

“and did it help?” you slowly ask – and you don’t know why. you don’t know why it matters. you’re over. you’ve been over. whatever he answers doesn’t matter, it doesn’t change anything. it won’t change anything.

right?

jean is staring at you with enough intent to make you want to melt, like he means to take in every part of your face and sear it into his memory. it makes your head foggy.

“i…” jean’s chest is rising and falling and only then do you notice that yours is as well. and you are out of breath.

“you?”

“i was scared. you’re… you’re so good and i’m–” he’s practically mumbling. but you can hear him, you always hear him, “i don’t know what i am. it just felt like i was going to ruin you.”

suddenly a tear is rolling down your cheek. and another and another and jean is leaning into you like he’s meaning to catch them.

“why didn’t you say that?” you whisper.

“because i didn’t deserve you,” he says like it is the most obvious thing, “i don’t deserve you.”

“jean…” your hand is reaching up to his jaw, and you’re cupping his cheek without even thinking, thumb swiping over stubble, “that’s not true.”

“i don’t say the right things,” jean interjects, “i don’t do the right things. i never did. it just feels like i’ve been living in…some fucking limbo around you.” he leans his head on your hand, and then slowly picks up your other one and laces his fingers through it.

his hand fits like always. like it’s meant to.

you sigh, “what do you want from me, jean?”

“for you to not hate me.”

you giggle, “unfortunately, i could never hate you.” you feel his teeth against your palm as he beams at you, eyes watering and heart pounding.

“i… i want you.”

“really this time?”

“there was never a time i didn’t.”

he peers at you, like he’s trying to see into your head and unravel your thoughts one by one to read for himself. this time when he nestles his head into your hand again, he brings his head closer and closer to you, until you feel his breath fanning your damp cheeks.

nose to nose.

“please just let me…” he murmurs, eyes unwavering and hand gripping yours.

“okay,” you say softly, and he’s slowly but surely kissing you like you’re made of glass. like any wrong move and you will crumble right in front of him. you can feel the final tears that were resting on your waterline make their way down your face and he pulls away to let go of your hand and wipe them away.

he presses his lips to the exact spot on your cheek where they once were.

“i’m not stupid anymore,” he says. you laugh quietly.

“okay.”

“and i want you.”

you nod your head and he smiles, then kisses you again.

#jean x reader #aot x reader #jean kirstein x reader #attack on titan fic #aot fic #aot angst #aot fluff #jean kirstein fluff #snk fic #snk x reader #aot college #aot moderm au #jean kirstein fic

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wittlesissyb4by · 1 day

Text

Chapter 2

(Chapter 1 HERE)

“A little to the left…there you go…press that spot. There! I bet I'm leaking aren’t I?”

Marianne watched as little drips of precum dripped out of Jack’s penis. She wasn’t even touching it. She had two fingers shoved up his rectum, looking for the soft little walnut she had recently learned was his prostate. She knew she was doing it right when his breathing changed. He let out pitiful little high-pitched whimpers as she gently pressed, prodded and worked her fingers over it.

“Does it really feel that good?”

“Ohhhhohhh yeaa!” He moaned, eyes in the back of his head. He was splayed out on the floor on top of an open, oversized diaper, drenched in piss.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” she asked, dumbfounded. How, in 52 years did she never learn of prostate stimulation?

“I didn’t know how to tell you!” He groaned, still moaning on the floor as she worked her fingers in and out of him. “Don’t stop! Right there! Ohhhh yea! You feel so good! Right there! I’m gonna cum! Yea! Yeaa! Yess!! Ahh—wuh?!”

Marianne quickly withdrew her fingers, smirking as she pulled off the gloves and set them to the side.

“What are you doing??” Jack asked a little too vehemently. “I was just about to cum!”

“Exactly.” Marianne smiled triumphantly.

“But…wasn’t that the point…? For you to make me cum from anal only?”

“Yup.”

“So why didn’t you?”

Marianne grinned as she slipped a finger over the little lines of cum oozing down his balls. “Are you sure I didn’t?”

Jack blushed sheepishly, but continued his point. “Well…not all the way…”

“Would you have? If I kept going?” Marianne asked.

“Well…yea…probably.”

“Then I would say ‘Mission Accomplished.’”

She laughed at his frustration. After just two weeks of classes in the ABCD program, she was already feeling much more confident in the dominant role. Not to say she didn’t still have some kinks to work out…

Remembering the task at hand, she brought the pack of wipes closer to her, digging into the top and pulling out exactly 3. From the corner of her eye she could see his dick dancing to the sound of the crinkling package. She liked seeing him so turned on. It was, afterall, what all of these extra classes were for. That, and it gave her some time to interact with people that weren’t all her age. Spending time on a college campus once more had given her that youthful feeling of nostalgia she didn’t know she was missing.

Jack gave a sharp gasp when she brought the cold wipe to his thigh, tracing it upwards, skipping his penis, and going down the other side. Her eyes were on him the whole time, watching how his breathing and countenance changed with her every movement. Finally, she brought the wipe to his balls, giggling as they shriveled almost instantly beneath the graying hair. She wiped the clear, sticky liquid that had leaked from his balls.

“Am I doing okay?” She asked, needing that reassurance. Even though she was getting trained, she still felt so new at this. Like a bird still learning to fly.

“You’re doing great!” Jack smiled.

“No, really.” Marianne beckoned, “I need to know what I’m doing wrong so I can pass my practical exam next Thursday.”

Jack considered, trying to shove his regressed brain away so he could logically consider.

“I guess you could…dirty talk?”

Marianne suspected that was coming, it was a statutory point Professor Peterson had heavily emphasized.

“Ughh you’re right…” Marianne groaned, clapping a hand to her forehead. “I just feel so…awkward.”

“Don’t.” Jack shrugged, as if that would fix it. “There’s no way you can go wrong. You could say you’re going to butter my corn and I would still find it incredible. It’s more about your tone than anything.”

“What do you mean? What kind of tone?”

“I dunno…like…a ‘Mommy’ tone? But a patronizing one. Like, you don’t even see me as a man, just a loser that has to wear pampers.”

“But you’re not a loser…”

“Well,” Jack shrugged again, “I appreciate that, but remember it’s all about humiliation. You’re making me feel embarrassed for having to wear the diaper, for having to use the diaper.”

Marianne nodded, trying to take it all in. She looked down at her husband splayed out before her, vulnerable as could be, and yet she felt like the ridiculous one. She desperately searched for words to say. “Where do I even begin?”

“Just start by talking about my diaper.” Jack offered, “the state it’s in, how wet it is...that sort of thing.”

Marianne looked down at the sodden diaper laid out on the floor between his legs. It really was soaked, and apparently after just one wetting. How would it look if she made him use it more than 3-5 times like Professor Peterson suggested?

“Uh..umm..okay Jack…your diaper is very wet! Look at how wet your uh…your d-diaper is…” she felt absolutely ludicrous talking to her husband like this. Her voice was shaky, and she sounded way too nervous to be condescending. She peeked up at Jack, his dick still bobbing straight up in the air. “How was that?”

“Good.” Jack said appreciatively in the tone he used when he told her the meatloaf she’d burnt also tasted ‘good’. “Maybe make your voice a little bit higher, use lots of exaggerated gasps, and don’t be afraid to babytalk!”

She swirled that in her mind for a bit, contemplating how best to do it. Marianne was so used to everything being by the book, set, organized, neatly filed and tucked away for easy access. It was hard for her to do anything off the cuff. She’d enjoyed theater back in school, but that was only with specific scripts and lines. Improv was never really her thing.

Still, she took a deep breath, found the right pitch, and gave it a go.

“Oh my!” she gasped, “Wook at what we have here! Did someone go pee pee in their diapurr??”

Jack’s jaw dropped.

“What?” Marianne asked, concerned, “What’s wrong? Did I not do it right??”

“No…” Jack gaped, almost like he was horrified, “You did…amazing!!”

Marianne narrowed her eyes, skeptical. “Really?”

“Really.” Jack said in a way that made her know he meant it. “That was…awesome. Perfect! Keep going…just like that.”

Marianne nodded, appreciating the reassurance, feeling a bit more confident in herself now. She tried to remember the way the other girls spoke to the diaper betas in class, channeling it to her husband. “You’re quite the pampurr pisser aren’t you?? You really soaked this thing!”

She used as many adjectives and degrading terms as she could muster, trying them all on for size. Then she remembered a tip Mrs. Peterson had suggested to help emphasize their feelings of submission, and implicate them in their actions.

“Tell me what you did you…loser!” Marianne intoned, “Tell me what you did in your diaper!”

“I went pee pee’s Mommy!!” Jack said in the most high-pitched of a voice she’d ever heard him use in their 8 years of marriage. His face turned crimson. He was ashamed of himself, and this was his fetish!

She almost felt bad, but she tried to stay in character, giving another exaggerated gasp. “Aww!! You sure did! Silly little…baybee!”

Jack wriggled on top of his diaper in a cutesy sort of way, making it crinkle. It was like his mind had reverted back 50+ years. He tugged the neck of his T-shirt up to his chin. “Make fun of my tiny dick” he muttered in his normal voice.

“But you don’t have a tiny dick.” Marianne said, dropping her own motherly tone, “you’re perfectly average.”

“I know,” he said, still covering his mouth with his shirt like it was a mask for his own persona. “Just…pretend. Remember, you’re humiliating me.”

Marianne nodded. She felt bad criticizing him for something she knew he was already very self-conscious about, but she had to tell herself that this is what he wanted. “D’awww! And wook at your wittle pee pee!” she cooed, gently poking the throbbing head that was pointed skyward, making it lean and sway to and fro, “who knew so much wee wee could come out of such a tiny pee pee!!”

“That’s why I need the diapers” Jack whispered helpfully.

“That must be why you need such a big diapurr huh??” Marianne mused, following his lead, “A nice big pampurr for your widdle baybee dick to–” she stopped, tone shifting, “is it ‘wittle’ or ‘widdle? With ‘T’s or ‘D’s?”

“Heavily debated topic within the community.” Jack said.

“Is it really?”

“No.”

He laughed, “but I think it’s just a matter of preference. I don’t really hear a difference. I think it only matters if you’re typing it. When I write it, I use ‘t’s.”

“When you write it?” Marianne questioned.

Jack suddenly side-eyed, reaching for a change of subject. “Uh…aren’t you supposed to put my pacifier in?”

“Oh shit!” Marianne exclaimed, cursing herself for forgetting step one of a diaper change. She quickly picked up the pacifier case that her and Jack went to pick out and plopped it in his mouth, making him instantly regress again. It also made her think of the other thing she was supposed to do during changes–if the ‘Mommy’ designated it on the preference sheet–and since she was the Mommy in this scenario, she decided it was proper.

Reaching down, she grasped Jack’s purple penis, feeling it throb in her hands. She could practically take his blood pressure from here. “I’m supposed to edge you now…”

Apparently she didn’t have to explain what that was, Jack seemed to understand immediately, and he didn’t seem particularly thrilled about it either.

“How’s that feel?” she asked, running her hand up and down it, using her other hand to squirt a glob of lotion over the top for lubricant. Jack gave that noticeable exhale that let her know when he was in heaven.

“That’s great Mommy!!”

His voice was regressing again, which made her kick back into Mommy mode. “Awww! Wittle Jack Jack likes it when Mommy gives him a whack whack??”

He nodded fretfully, biting his bottom lip. She increased her pace, increased the amount of lube on her hand, making it thwick thwick thwick as she stroked faster.

She watched his legs squirm, his toes clench, his hips heave. She’d seen enough of his orgasms to know when one was coming. She waited until he was right at the cusp before pulling her hand away, making him groan in frustration.

“Raise up.” She said, ignoring his whimpers. She lifted him by the penis at the same time so that his hips raised off the floor, allowing her to slide the wet diaper out from beneath.

She smirked at his bulging dick, flopping around helplessly as she rolled up the drenched diaper and taped it into a ball. Pulling out a fresh diaper, she started fluffing it the way she’d learned in school: popping it outward like a trash bag to unfurl it, folding it down the middle like a hot dog, pressing a crease to free up the padding, then grabbing the edges and shaking it back and forth until said padding was evenly distributed. There was no doubt that it turned the diaper from a flattened white undergarment to a full-fledged plump pamper.

Jack seemed impressed, hardly noticing her stroke his dick a few more times before having him raise his hips again.

“Have you been a good boy today?” she asked, trying to keep the momentum going.

Jack nodded, pacifier bobbing as he suckled.

“Did you stop by the post office like I asked?”

He hesitated, but nodded again.

“Did you??”

“Mhmm!!” He mumbled around his paci, “I droffpped off the packaggge and the card to yerr Mom!”

Marianne smiled, putting her hand around his dick again, but this time only using two fingers. “Hmm…you are a good boy!”

She stroked him up and down, things did feel more natural now that they were both in the mood. Jack was practically a puddle on the floor, wriggling and writhing under her touch, making pathetic little mewling noises.

The cooing quickly turned to ‘crying’ when she pulled her hand away, bringing him back up to the edge and stopping again. Then again. Then one more time.

“Pweez can I cumm, Mommy??” he begged helplessly. She could tell he wanted to literally take matters into his own hands and finish himself off, but he resisted, if only to keep it going longer.

“I don’t know…” Marianne grinned sadistically, enjoying her newfound power. She made an ‘O’ with her thumb and index finger like Claire did in class the other day, putting it just above the head of Jack’s dripping purple penis. “...can you??”

Jack desperately thrust his hips upward, making the diaper crinkle every time he went back down, and had to go even higher to catch Marianne’s rising hand. Eventually, she’d raised it up too high to where Jack was unable to reach it, no matter how desperately he flexed his abs and hips. She hadn’t seen him work his core that hard in a long time…

Finally, he collapsed back down, defeated, knowing that was his last chance.

“Awww! Don’t cry wittle baby!” Marianne cooed, unable to keep herself from smiling. “You get to go back in a diaper like you wanted!!”

Jack whimpered meekly into his pacifier, crossing his arms dramatically. He’d regressed to a full-blown brat. Marianne was genuinely worried that the dusting of powder over his penis would send him over the edge, but she managed to coat it without anything other than globs of precum leaking out.

“Are you going to do all of this with…someone else?” Jack asked, losing his whiney voice.

“What? Like, at school?”

He nodded.

Marianne shrugged, “I…I suppose. I mean…yea. I guess I kinda have to, right? We train on the betas, the ‘mannekins’ as we call them, even though they’re not made out of fake plastic…and I’m pretty sure I’ll have to ‘perform’ on them for practicals and exams.”

Jack looked a little displeased.

“Hey,” she said, lifting his chin with her finger so he was forced to look at her, “you wanted this. You encouraged me to take classes. So if you want me to get better at all of this, you have to be comfortable with me practicing on others.”

He seemed to find logic in that, nodding.

“Don’t be such a sourpuss!” she teased, tickling him a bit until he giggled, “you get to reap all the benefits!”

She tucked his winky down onto his belly as she pulled the diaper upward. Her mind going a little elsewhere as she taped up the sides. Marianne and her first husband were never able to conceive (probably for the best, as he was a dreadful drunk), and by the time she’d met Jack she was long past her prime child-rearing years. Still, she’d always wished she had someone to coddle and mother, perhaps this was her way of getting that. Maybe they were both benefiting from all of this.

Once the tabs were properly secured, Marianne tucked the hems of the diaper inward at the thighs and waistband like she’d learned. She pulled him up until he was standing, checking her work.

“How’s it feel?” she asked, gripping the crotch and rubbing it back and forth. He was still hard inside.

“Great!” He said, smiling behind his pacifier appreciatively.

“Excellent.” Marianne said as she gathered back up the changing supplies. “Oh,” she snapped, pointing a finger up at him and giving him a menacing, motherly look. “No touching.” she said sternly, obviously referring to his diaper, “No cumming. No rubbing it against anything! I’m going to check your diaper in a few hours. I better not find anything in there other than piss. No poop either. I’m not ready for that yet. But if you can go without cumming, I’ll let you cum in me tonight.”

He perked up at that. Jack and Marianne were getting older, so it didn’t happen quite as often as it used to.

“I’m serious.” She said, feeling more confident in her dominant persona. “If I find cum, I won’t punish you with a spanking, I just won’t diaper you. Understood?”

He nodded, sensing her sincerity.

“Good.”

He bent to pick his pants up.

“You won’t be needing those.”

The pacifier practically fell from his mouth, she knew she just made his dick move inside his pampers.

“No pants. Just pampers.” she said, as he scurried off with a little pep in his step.

Sometimes Jack had to take a little blue pill to help get him ready for sex at his age. Marianne highly doubted they would be needing that tonight.

**************

“I don’t get why we should ever let them cum.” Brooke was saying, leaning over the bed that had been rolled into the classroom, pressing a Hitachi vibrator to the diapered crotch of the squirming beta.

“We’re not letting him cum,” Savannah reminded her, pinching the whimpering ‘mannekin’ on the cheek, “just edging him.”

“I know, but I mean…in general.” Brooke sighed, lifting the vibrator every time the practice dummy showed signs of climaxing. The poor sophomore must have thought he’d be getting orgasm after orgasm when he signed up as a volunteer to be a learning tool. Did he even know he’d have to wear diapers indefinitely? Miranda distinctly remembered this one being checked by one of her ABCD classmates in the middle of an unrelated Civics lecture. “It’s just…if any man wants to run around in diapers all day, they shouldn’t get to cum. That’s for real men.”

Some of the girls that were circled around the bed nodded in agreement. Miranda couldn’t help but think of Jack. She always thought of him as a man’s man, he certainly didn’t look like one when he was dancing around in diapers, but she’d already spent enough time with him in a “normal” setting to be able to tease the two sides of him apart. She doubted most of these college girls had had much of a committed relationship.

“I know what you mean,” Trinity said, bringing a bottle of formula to the mannequin’s lips, “Benny, the ‘man’ I betasit is constantly masturbating while I’m around. Wife doesn’t want him in a cage.”

“Is he a rubber or a humper?” Valencia asked.

“Girl, all of the above!” Trinity scoffed, “I'm thinking about caging him myself just so I don’t have to listen to him moaning and crinkling all the time! You should see how much goo goo he makes!”

“Oh please, it can’t be that much…” Savannah giggled.

“Okay you’re right,” Trinity shrugged, smiling, “but it’s sooo awkward to see him humping the arm of the couch from the corner of my eye while i’m scrolling through Tik Tok!”

“At least it goes in the diaper…” said Savannah, “I shit you not, one of them shot me right in the face during a diaper change. I didn’t even touch it! It just started spewing everywhere. Got me right in the eye! And his wife had the nerve to tell me he has ED issues, well not in front of me he didn’t!”

The girls collectively laughed. “Okay you win,” Trinity said, “I’ll try not to complain. Still would like him in a cage though…” she smacked the mannekin’s cheeks, reminding him there was a bottle in his mouth, “drink!” she barked.

The beta was too busy holding his mouth open in ecstasy to remember to suck on the little rubber teet. He wrapped his lips around it at Trinity’s behest, but that didn’t stop him from whimpering as he suckled. Brooke pulled the vibrator off for a bit just to hear him groan, and didn’t put it back on until he was guzzling the milk to her standards.

“What’s a cage?” Miranda asked, speaking up for the first time.

All the girls turned to her at once, looking at her as if she just asked something as obvious as who Taylor Swift was. They quickly fixed their faces, however, not wanting to be mean.

“Something to go around their dick,” Claire explained without judgment, she’d seemed to take Miranda under wing. Ironic, considering Miranda had watched her friend give birth to Claire over 20 years ago. “Keeps them from masturbating. Even comes with a little key to unlock it!”

Miranda nodded, imagining the possibilities if she were to use it on Jack. She didn’t mind him masturbating, but she always wished he’d ask if she wanted to join instead of just taking care of his business himself. Having that type of control did sound endearing.

“I’ve got 3 keys!” Valencia said, flashing the necklace between her perfectly plump breasts. “One for my boyfriend and one for the beta I sit for.”

“Who’s the third?”

Val shrugged, “Some fuckboi I met on campus. Haven’t seen him in a while, but he sends me DM’s on the daily asking for the key. He even sends me pictures of his swollen balls!!”

The girls thought that was hilarious. Even Miranda was unable to keep herself from smiling. Where she thought she was progressing with Jack and their relationship, she obviously still had much to learn.

“That’s what I’m saying though…” Brooke continued, fixing the vibrator to a lower position and pressing further into the pissy pamper, “The world would be a lot better if all men were in chastity. They only think with their dicks anyway, and they’re willing to do damn-near anything if it means they’ll have the slightest chance of—“

“Brooke!” Savannah exclaimed, indicating the squirming mannekin on the bed. His eyes were rolling in the back of head and he had started to convulse.

Brooke’s eyes went wide and she immediately yanked the vibrator away. “Shit!” She shrieked, clapping a hand to her mouth. Their assignment was to edge the mannekins, not let them cum. They would lose marks if a load was spilled, even a ruined one.

Brooke tentatively tucked a finger into the waistband of the boy’s diaper, peering inside with bated breath. The rest of the girls were on edge, worried for their own grade. Her eyes darted left and right, finger poking and prodding. “No cum”, she said, breathing a hefty sigh of relief, the rest of the girls following suit.

“Close one!”

“Very.”

“Can’t believe he held it! Good job little guy!”

Val took a peek in for herself. “Ooh those balls sure are blue though!!”

“Someone take this before I cost us our grade!” Brooke said, handing the vibrator off. Claire stepped up and took it eagerly.

The girls continued to chat and edge the poor beta constantly for the next half hour until Professor Peterson finally came over with a clipboard.

“How’s it going over here, girls?” She asked over the sounds of giggles, buzzing, and whimpers.

“Good!”

Peterson decided to test that claim by using her pencil to lift the waistband herself.

“Hmmm…prominent leakage of pre-ejaculate with substantial swelling of the testes. Great job, ladies!”

They all grinned and nodded at each other proudly.

“I’ll remind you that your exams are next week. I expect you to know your stuff. You will also have a practical in which you will need to demonstrate proper prostate and edging techniques. I should warn you: don’t take it lightly. The mannekins next week will be extremely deprived and therefore very easily stimulated and prone to orgasm. I expect you to all bring your A-games. It will be a collective effort. Good luck!”

She snapped her fingers, and the beds around the classroom were wheeled out, the betas squealing and squirming the whole time in disappointed frustration.

Savannah turned to the rest of her group. “We have to get together and study!”

“For real,” Trinity nodded “I can’t afford to even get a C in this class or I'll lose my financial aid!”

“Should we meet in the library?”

“Which one?”

“By the quad.”

“That’s fine, but i’m not that worried about the written exam to be honest,” Savannah made an unapologetic gesture, “I’m just still not comfortable with the prostate and practical side.”

“Well I’m sure we can find someone to practice on.”

“Who? Not everyone’s a loser that would volunteer to get their ass fingered.”

“That’s only because they refuse to admit how good it feels.”

“Sure, but still…”

“Val? Do you think maybe your boyfriend would be okay with it? I mean, you do it to him all the time don’t you?”

“Oh he definitely would be fine with it,” Valencia laughed, “I just don’t know if I’m fine with it.”

Claire put a considerate hand to her shoulder, “That’s valid, we understand that.”

“But where are we going to find—“

“We could use my husband.” Miranda blurted out. Her face turned crimson when all the girls turned to her in shock. “I-I mean…if he’s okay with it. I’ll have to check with him first…”

******

“So let me get this straight…” Jack said incredulously, “you’re asking me if you can have a bunch of college girls come over to the house, put me in a diaper, and practice playing with me and my…parts?”

Miranda felt stupid even asking. Jack was looking at her like she was practically the dumbest person on the planet.

Then he burst into raucous laughter. “Uh…yea.” He chuckled, “yea, i’m pretty sure i’m very much okay with that!!”

To be Continued...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I just posted the brand new Chapter 3 of this story over on SubStar!! If you'd like to read it, I'd really appreciate your support! As always, thank you so much for your time and attention to read my writings. It really means a lot to me. Thank you so much, and have the best of days!

#abc degree #abcdegree #WSB Story

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puppyeared · 1 year

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I made a lmk oc

#they’re supposed to be some sort of experiment to see if people could recreate Sun Wukongs stone egg. the goal was to make a more controlled #and tame version using carved wood and cultivation. but eventually they got worried about it becoming too powerful and scrapped it #eventually they come to life and live in the abandoned temple they were built in #their bottom half is made of wood because when they came to life their creator/s left them unfinished when they scrapped the project #they had to carve the rest of their body out of hunger and frustration because they couldn’t eat or move much by crawling on their top half #this is also why they spite their creators and hate irresponsible creation. because of abandonment issues and feeling like they have no #purpose or direction in life #their power is also very limited to due being man made since they were originally a wood carving #meo gave me the idea but one reason would be because they’re half finished. the sculpture was still half stump so it was completely untouche #that half can channel power in its raw form but the other half cannot once it’s been carved by man #so technically they could have the same level or potential for power as the stone but that was dampened #the other thing is how they were created to be a duplicate or recreation of a stone monkey and a celestial looked at that and was like #‘we’re not doing that again’ LMAO #i think the case of them carving their own legs doesn’t take away their power though. that balance was made #before they came to life so carving the legs or not can’t affect it anymore. like making a cake and slicing it #their energy levels are also naturally low because of that so their movements are sluggish and they aren’t very active overall #constantly lying in the sun to charge their batteries and get some stuff done. just like me fr #I actually don’t know what I’m gonna do with this character besides Put Them In Situations with other ppls ocs.. so if you have #a lmk oc you have been warned /lh /j #I wanna make some backstory art for them though.. maybe even the animatic treatment if I can get through dear wormwood which is 25 #SECONDS OUT OF 3 MIN BTW #doodles #Lego Monkie kid #lmk #Monkie kid #lmk oc #monkie kid oc #myart #my art #xin ya

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ursie · 7 months

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The way you can always tell how normal a person is about Ashton/Callowmore by what pronoun they use for them 😭

#if they only/mostly use he? 🚩 everytime #sm of the fandom clearly just sees Ashton as a angry man it’s so frustrating #they only time they acknowledge their disability is for uwu angst or hurt comfort like as a disabled person #makes me wanna vomit the way you actually treat their disability like 😭#like. the most masc trans character you could handle was Molly and y’all even make them more effeminate then they were in canon 😭#just. much to think about don’t feel like explaining #but something about the villainization of masc queer people be it transmascs or amab trans people and the #way that most of the queer community just. cannot be normal about us 😭#ashton greymoore #callowmoore #cr #cr3 #critical role #spoilers #I babble

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un-pearable · 1 year

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the sheer volume of titans tower aus are the most baffling thing to me because fic fandom treats it like this Core Event that his entire life is oriented around… they always treat tim like he’s a newbie who just picked up a bo staff five minutes ago when that couldn’t be further from the truth. he’s existed for over a decade at that point. he’s had over a hundred issues of a solo, not even touching his appearances anywhere else. in universe, he’s been robin for at least 3-4 years. he had AN ENTIRE OTHER TEAM who’s series ran for three years and had comics wide crossovers twice. he was enlisted in a war. he’s time traveled. he’s been to apocalips. he’s not a little baby who’s in too deep that kid’s been to space.

#tim drake #sorry i can’t get over the space thing. the real badge of superherodom in my opinion is GOING TO FUCKING SPACE #that’s not normal!!!! not everyone gets to do that!!!! even mkst superheroes don’t do that!!! much less MULTIPLE TIMES #he coowned a entire ass spaceship for a while even. imagine talking to a fourteen year old who had been an astronaut. do you see where im #coming from.#this is not be being supportive of the equally frustrating other end of the spectrum where they make him ridiculously hyper competent #and flanderized in the exact opposite direction. the whole point of tim is that he is (allegedly) The Normal One who CHOSE to become a hero #bc he sincerely believed he could help people and that they deserved it. the tragic backstorying came later. he is just a guy.#however he is the FURTHEST from a baby like half of TTAU fic writes him as. ESPECIALLY by the time the actual damn event rolls around #go read teen titans 2003 no. 29 i swear the world is so much more interesting than fanfic makes you believe #text✨#dc stuff #batfam #not that that issue is particularly good. i’m just saying. the way fanon treats it as a Keystone Event is WEIRD #< draft clearing jay here. i was weirdly mad about this but i stand by it #posting time i guess

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alarrylarrie · 1 year

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#I just want to reiterate that you’re allowed to think more than one thing at once #even if those things are contradictory!#I- for example- love Louis and am (mostly) excited to see this documentary #I am also sad that Freddie is involved #for a multitude of reasons #not least of which is the exploitation factor #I just… worry about that kind of exposure a lot #so many people who were like thrust into the public as children #grow up and say how much they hated that #so let’s say Louis is his dad. fine. okay. but why expose your kid like that?#the thing is- the really fucked thing is- he (Louis) can’t win #not including Freddie seems like the obvious choice #but imagine how people (mostly rads) would have been if he didn’t?#anyway- I can be excited and worn out and nervous and sad and frustrated all at the same time #and so can you!#you don’t have to feel one way #you can feel a hundred ways #just remember that

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stinkrascal · 1 year

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#vent tw #bc this turned emo #i feel like ive said this a lot so just ignore me if im repeating myself #but ive been so exhausted lately its ruining my days :(#i literally sleep like 13+ hours a day if not more #sometimes im out for like 20 hours #typically its not straight its like. i’ll sleep for 4 hrs then wake up for 30 mins then sleep again #and then by then end of the day its like 7pm and ive just woke up. i hate it #its 5pm and i just woke up but like thats basically my entire day gone now #i just feel so tired all the time. like i cant do anything but sleep. my motivation is zero #i hate it i hate it i hate it. i feel dumb #ik im complaining about stuff that seems trivial bc like most people have real things to stress about. meanwhile im just sleeping my days #away. but i still hate it. i wish i could stay awake and see thru the day without sleeping through the majority of it. :(#health wise i’m terrified there’s something like legitimately wrong w me. i mean mental wise too #it’s just that i’m so resistant to change and VERY resistant to getting help for myself that nothing gets done #i’m sorry ik this is heavy i’m just frustrated 😭 i don’t have anyone to tell this to so i’ll tell this to you 🤸#kinda feels like i’m talking to a friend then. even if it’s just the tumblr void

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samuraisharkie · 1 month

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due to Life Shit I kind of stopped drawing much about a year or two after I graduated high school bc I just kind of didn’t have the time or mental/emotional/physical capacity to fit it in, despite art being something I really want to be a part of my career. It kind of makes me sick to realize how much muscle memory I lost just from that time (I had only about a year and a half total of absolutely no art but that was enough. doesn’t help that during that time I seriously injured my hands) considering I’ve been drawing my entire life. I really wish things had not gone that way and that I could have kept going, but expectations were on me to do something else and any time I sat down to draw was treated as wasting time. There’s also something weird about recovering from severe trauma that kind of adjusts how you engage with a hobby you used as a coping mechanism, which Art very much was. I almost never drew vent art, but I used it to focus on something and make myself happy and proud of work I actually could do, and once I was out of the environments that funneled me into drawing (being forced to go to church, school, anything involving sitting down for a long period of time) I found less time to actually have an excuse. Someone bought me a single college course of art classes right out of high school, and I think that was where I COULD have had the opportunity to really get started if I had actually had the money to continue and the college hadn’t been so far away. After that course ended I didn’t have that excuse anymore. I used to draw in DeviantArt and Discord art groups, but those began to fall apart and soon I didn’t have that option either. After that I doodled but didn’t really create Full Pieces unless some friend asked it of me, and it was never a commission bc I’d never trained myself to get that sort of shit done without taking too long, so I’d always do it for free. So even that wasn’t a big motivator eventually. Now that I’m struggling for work after becoming more physically disabled after COVID, all that time I could have spent honing my art skills so I could do SOMETHING with my art really is weighting down on me. I have the option to do freelance work, illustrations, pet commissions, even things like cards and cookies. I’ve seen these avenues open up for me gradually, but I’ve lost the skills I built up that I need to actually make something I’m proud of. I’ve taken to tracing old art to try and remember my thought process and my “style”… but my memory was bad BEFORE the covid, and it’s worse now, and my brain fog makes it hard to focus even if I could get back on the train of thought. I don’t remember the construction that would be in my mind’s eye. I barely can keep a clear vision in my mind’s eye anymore, worryingly. I never had a crystal clear imagination, it was always sort of abstract, but I could see the lines, I could construct a scene. Now I have to focus hard to get any sort of detail clear in my head. It’s like if you tried to look directly into someone’s face in a dream, or put in a prompt in neural blender. So I have to adjust to performing the entire thought process physically, slowly and tediously trying to figure out what I’m imagining before I can really get started. Those old art tutorials for constructing shapes and bodies and such just aren’t coming naturally anymore so I have to dredge deep into my mind to remember which advice helped “click” the best and knowing it might not do it this second time around. It’s like if you forgot how to ride a bike. It was something natural to you, you could even get started haphazardly and distracted and still be able to tell where you were going and not fall over or trip on yourself, but now it’s like you have to focus on each step and it constantly feels like it’s taking everything you have to not crash. I’m glad I can start drawing again, but it hurts that something so huge in my life has been turned into this. I’ve ranted about it before it’s just easier to notice when you’re not sketching out people’s pets or doing super stylized doodles.

#I didn’t know you could max out a ‘text block’ on tumblr also. my indication to stop LOL #long post #vent #kind of. I’m not like super angsty abt it I’m just sad that I have to spend more time remembering #instead of actually accomplishing anything with my dreams. I’m 26 and there’s 18 year olds living my fucking dream yknow #I know you don’t have a certain age requirement for art but I also know you never stop improving #and being set back before I was even proud enough to set prices for my work is kind of devastating #I just love art. I want to be an animator or something involve with creative concepts.#I want to make things I’m proud of. but what used to come easily now feels like chewing nails #the metal ones not the cartilidge. anyway #I know I’m kind of hard on myself but it’s hard not to be when you’re surrounded by people with such talent #and it feels like you’re running behind when you see people getting to their dreams so much sooner than you.#I know it’ll happen but it hurts sometimes remembering what I used to imagine id be doing at this age #and realizing past me probably had more of a chance at these careers than I do right now bc of brain damage and physical and mental issues #it’s not confirmed if I have brain damage but like. I can tell something is different.#it’s not like they’d be able to diagnose it by now or even that it’d change anything #I just have to keep going and keep trying. it’s just discouraging and frustrating #I wish I could summon all the memories from my brain back up so I could feel happier about my art #I’m happy to have the chance to start drawing again don’t get me wrong. I still like to draw. it’s just.#I can tell the difference between how it was and how it is now and it makes me mourn #ough I wish I still had a therapist lmao. Deb get the fuck back here you traitor.

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