#em stories
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rivals academia | knj
pairing: knj x reader (f)
genre: slight angst/smut
rating: mature audiences ONLY (strictly 18+)
wc: 4.2 thousand
summary: you and kim namjoon absolutely hate eachother but after you’re both paired for a school project — things get rather interesting at the school library.
warnings: enemies to one-night stand (potential fwb) unprotected sex (wrap it up yall); penetrative sex; hand job; fingering; brief nipple play; teasing; dirty talk; public sex; foul language; dirty talk; bickering; thigh riding; slight degradation; praise kink; i think thats it ??; namjoon’s fucking thighs; i was having a moment of weakness please; college au
posted: sunday september 11th, 2022
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Repulsed.
That’s precisely the word indicative enough to portray exactly how you felt. Repulsed, repugnant, nauseated, revolting — it all came rushing in like a wave of rage aggressively meeting the golden shores.
It was overwhelming yet still - here you sat across from him and his absolutely irritating aura. It excluded an intoxicating amount of cockiness and an irritating deal of arrogance.
His presence was so irritating.
So fucking irritating.
“Are we supposed to finish this whole project today?” He asked exasperated - as if putting off the project until the last minute wasn’t his exact idea and now he wants to treat it as a nuisance?
“The project is due Monday, Kim. And it is 8:00PM Friday,” you briefly examined the watch sitting on your wrist, “and I’m guessing you have plans for the entire weekend?”
Namjoon nodded eagerly, picking up his phone for the thousandth time but you snatched it right out of his hand.
“What the—”
“It’s time to get to work. For real this time, Kim.” You shoved his phone in your purse, “I'm tired of you just pretending to do things.”
“Can I have my phone back?” He uttered through gritted teeth.You could’ve sworn you saw clouds of smoke emitting from his ears as his usually chocolate eyes turned red hot with anger, “Now!.”
“You’ll get it back when you actually fucking do something for once.” You snapped back — standing your ground.
He slouched back on the wooden library chair and scoffed typing away at his laptop.
Kim Namjoon.
If it wasn’t obvious he wasn’t your first choice for a project partner, however, your Intro to Art History professor thought otherwise. And now you suffered the consequences; bearing the temper tantrums of a man baby.
“What was the year for Venus of Urbino again?”
“1534.”
“Artist?”
“Titian.”
“Interpretation some believe?”
You huffed — he was truly insufferable, “did you even read the cards she passed out?”
He rolled his eyes, “does it look like I did?”
“Kim, do I really have to do your part of the project too?”
He quirked a brow as he shrugged, “you’re the one holding me hostage.”
“I’m not holding you anything. You have a responsibility to this project as my partner. This doesn’t just fall on me.”
“And yet here I am contributing absolutely nothing and you’re already doing both our jobs so you might as well excuse me.” He pushed his chair back in an attempt to stand-up.
“I swear if you so much as take a step, Kim,” you stood up from the table from him — your eyes sternly set on his. You were not afraid of him, “your name will be removed from this entire fucking project and word on the street is you’re current GPA isn’t really securing you a place on the team. What is the athlete’s magic number again? 2.5 right?”
“Ouch!” His full lips curved into a smile. His chasmic dimples on full display. You could sense the sarcasm even in the simple phrase your attention was averted towards his lips. It’s rather nice. His smile that is. You didn’t really see it often but his smile — fuck — it was picturesque; similar to the sunset as it kissed the deepest depths of the cerulean sea when nighttime lurked behind in its shadows.
“Don’t hold back now.” he uttered, taking a seat once again.
“I don’t intend to.”
“Tell me, doll. Are you always this dense?”
You ignored him and continued typing your section of the project. Just pretend he’s not even here — you repeat in your head.
“Are you going to answer my question on Venus about the depiction or should I spend the next hour researching it?”
You looked up at him and there it is again. The soft strokes of curvatures of his golden cheeks painting a delicate smile.
“It is literally a five minute search,” You cleared your throat in an attempt to be clear and to avoid having to repeat yourself, “but to save you the trouble; we're focusing on sexuality through the ages she is theorized to be masturbating, Kim.”
“Masturbating?”
“Precisely, with the way she’s laying naked and the placement of her hands — it’s only been assumed by some and obviously our professor as well considering she included it.”
Namjoon huffed. “Interesting.”
“Not at all,” you pointed at his laptop, “now write it down.”
“You don’t think so?”
“Where is this going, Kim?”
“Well,” he began, “I don’t mean to be lewd—”
“You already are, Kim.”
“It’s Joon,” Namjoon smirked, “but have you ever?”
His words were brief but they were tainted with a vivid carmine hue — all of it backtracked with sexual intent. And truly you despised the kaleidoscope of butterflies erupting at the pit of your stomach.
“That is none of your business.”
“—but it is something to be curious about.”
“I don’t see why,” though the library was completely vacant and you both sat in a private study area for some reason you could feel a swarm of watchful judging eyes — all of them condemning everything you've ever done. Everything right down to that very question. You shifted in your seat clearly affected at the utterances of his beguiling words, “and the next artwork on the list is The Swing. Figure it out.”
“Truly, has a girl like you even —” he chuckled, “never mind.”
“What could you possibly mean by that?” there was a feeling bubbling deep inside but you couldn’t quite decipher what it was. Anger? Annoyance? Bashfulness? .
“I just mean you’re innocent.”
“Innocent?”
“You could barely say ‘masturbation’ without a stutter a couple minutes ago,” he shrugged and you knew that in his own twisted way Namjoon was using this as another thing to hold over you.
“Have you ever thought that maybe I just don’t feel like discussing those things with you. This has nothing to do with how innocent you think I am.”
“I think. .” He drifted off. His chin was now propped up on his palms.
“You think?” you emphasized the word ‘think.’
“You wanna know what I think?”
“Is it that maybe you should shut up for once so we can get this project done already?”
“In fact,” he scoffed, beginning to share his theory anyway, “I think you’re a virgin.”
“That’s a great observation, Kim. Now let’s move on to what we’re actually here for.”
He slouched down in his chair, his arms now crossed at his chest, his eyes laid intently on you sitting right across from him. His watchfulness was kind of — intimidating to say the least.
“Kim, it’s 9PM. Can we please?” you sighed your eyes, never leaving the brightness of your screen.
“I would but it’s just so hard to concentrate.”
You sighed, “what will it take for you to finally move on and finish this project once and for all?” You shut your laptop, your eyes finally meeting his once again,
“Answer my question. Have you ever masturbated?”
His cavernous voice was bottomless like the deep sea and the obscenity in his words sent a glacial shiver down your spine. Was his voice always this low? You’d never really noticed before.
“I know you may think I’m familial to freaks of some sort but like any normal person I have in fact masturbated Joon,” you let out all in one breathe.
“You called me Joon,”
“I did,” his smile beamed brighter than sun rays — the rapid thumping of your heart beat aggressively thumped against the walls of your chest and you were afraid he might just be able to hear, “Are we done or do you also need a demonstration?”
“Let’s make your proposition a bit more sensible,” he began.
“I was kidding.”
“It was your idea,” The air in the room grew thicker. It constricted your airway and for a minute you felt like you couldn’t breathe. Were the air vents even opened here? You checked and they were, “are you already backing out now?”
“Joon. .”
“Tell me,” his voice was provocative and you feared one more soft utter would have you stripped bare with little to no command.
“Tell you?” your leg is bouncing under the wooden table and you could feel your palms growing clammy.
The soft glimmer of the luminous moonbeam was casted upon him accentuating his sun-kissed tone and the striking features staring back at you intently — his glistening cherry lips, the way his dimples formed at the mere appearance of the smirk on his face and his stern amber gaze still so intimidating. It made you feel small but you are not going to show him the power he could have over you.
“What do you wanna hear?” your tone now masked in thin layers of silk.
He panted softly, “I want to hear it all.”
“You wanna hear about how I lay completely bare with my head propped up against my pillows. Eyes shut tightly as my hands explore every single inch of my body pretending it’s someone else?”
“Fuck-” His hands dug under the waistband of his sweats. Your eyes now casted on the way the cotton light grey fabric rhythmically moved up and down repeatedly. His chest heaved as his breathing became uneven — and in that moment you could not think of a more captivating sight. Like an erotic painting right out of the renaissance era. You remained at your previous position behind his chair, “but when I get tired of that I have to resort to other measures as you may know.”
“I d-don’t know..” he groaned. His tone expressed frustration and arousal combined. The repulsion you once felt ceased and all your mind could become aware of was the vast ocean accumulating between your thighs; staining the fabric of your underwear as the sight of Namjoon stroking himself in the campus library became imprinted in your mind.
“Sometimes, I also like to mount my pillow placing my thighs on each side as I move my hips steadily against the soft fabric. Slowly rolling my hips back and forth until I’m finally able to reach that high,” you whispered.
His soft pants filled the stillness and furnished the serenity amongst the vacant tables and chairs right outside the private study room. The sounds so addicting it looped within the walls of your head like a vinyl on a broken record player.
“Y-You—” was all he could manage as he became enthralled in his own pleasure, the sweat forming at his temples could attest to it.
“Can I touch you Joon?”
“Please.”
You placed a velvet kiss on the nape of his neck. Your hands found their way up to his dark strands — you softly tugged at it, pushing his head back, “well I’m not the one with my hands in my pants. Am I?”
A thunderous chuckle rumbled within the four walls of the secluded study room, “Please believe you are the clear cause of this.”
“I didn’t do anything, Joon.” you let out an airy laugh, “just provided details of a scenario per your request. Remember?”
“You’re a fucking demon.”
“And you’re too easy. Just like every other horny dude on this campus.”
“Please—” He begged, grabbing onto your wrist before you could walk away. This tone was husk and as much as you hated to admit it. It was like an alluring song to your ears all of it shooting right down to your core just like everything he did. “I need you.”
I need you. The three words invaded your tympanum serving as a command for his needed pleasure and you felt as if your feet vacated their stance on the ground. His honey voice was lulling and if he continued to say anything in that tone, you’d fear your dignity would rid itself and follow every single thing he’d bark without objection. Every bone in your body already begged you to comply; to do it for you and chase your own pleasure — and as much as your mind screamed at you to leave. You listened to the throbbing between your legs instead.
“Pull it all down,” You ordered and Joon quickly rid himself of the pesky fabrics standing between him and utter vulnerability. He didn’t even bother to get up, just allowed them to pool at his ankles. His rather massive erection now on full display — shocked wasn’t the word you were looking for. After all, Joon always exuded the aura that he was considerable in size but nevertheless it was a pleasant reaffirmation to your lingering rumors.
Joon cleared his throat pulling your eyes away from his erection — your trance was essentially amusing to him, you could see it painted on his smirk, “You can come closer you know. If you want to.”
“Closer?”
Joon softly tapped on his bare thighs. His thick fucking thighs. Having attended numerous of his soccer games you were constantly given a sneak peak at his toned legs. His upper thighs often lolled you into a fantasy that was now taking play right before you and instead of following the script your head had created for you on multiple occasions; instead you sat here salivating at the clear view of his lower half without the burden of shorts being in the way.
“Come sit. Please,” his pleading made your legs turn to jello — the way his tone so delicately continued to voice his intricate needs was fucking sexy. Although you’ve only been sitting on top of his left thighs approximately 30 seconds now you couldn’t help the way you were throbbing at an uncontrollable beat. You were certain he could feel it too — it was plastered all over his shit-eating grin.
“Can you be a good girl and move for me please?” His tone still velvet to the touch.
Your underwear were already drenched and you were terrified he would notice — the lack of shorts under your skirt left only the thin cotton fabric of your underwear to meet his thighs. But you were not going to back down. Not now.
“Have you done this before?”
“No,” you simply stated.
“Just follow along.”
You nodded.
Initially, the mere feeling of his hands secured around your waist clouded your thoughts entirely. His warm grasp sent waves of electric currents down your spine but nothing prepared you for the feeling that bubbled in your core as soon as his sinful hands instructed you to move. The pace began agonizingly slow and you followed his motion moving forward and backwards against his thigh.
You whimpered, “It feels so good. .”
Joon laughed — the sound drummed at your eardrums and without a stutter in his rhythm you were being guided to move against him faster and faster as he continued flexing his thigh muscles causing all that more friction against your lower half.
“N-namjoon,” You moaned holding on to his chest for support; your head rolled back as you grew consumed by pleasure.
His hands vacated their place on your waist but you continued the steady pace against him chasing a high you knew you were very close to achieving. Joon’s attention was diverted into your clothed chest.
“Can I take your shirt and bra off?”
“Mhm,” was all you truly could manage.
Though, you were breaking a sweat going at it against his thighs as soon as your top half was stripped you felt a draft of cool air meet your perky nipples. The slight frigidness you briefly felt subsided and instead you were met with Joon’s warm touch once again except now it was taking a hold of your breast — his slender finder massaged one while the other was taken care of by his plump lips. Your hands traveled to the back of his neck as the rhythm of your hips stopped against his thigh. Your senses now focused entirely on the way he swirled his tongue against the sensitive bud.
He paused for a moment looking up at you through hooded eyes, “did I say you could stop?”
“No.”
“Then, continue riding my thigh until I say it’s enough.”
The switch off between his pleads for consent and the way he barked orders in your direction shot straight down only adding to the piled up sexual frustration bubbling deep within you but nevertheless you obeyed — now taking on a slower pace against him as he continued his attack on your breasts.
Locked away in a retreat of arousal and between slurred words and dazed moans you asked Joon if he was in accordance with receiving some attention as well.
“I want to focus on you.”
“And I on you,”
“If you insist,” he gave in, “just stay on my lap.”
His words set a stump in wanting to suck him off but ultimately you settled for using your hands. After aiming down to use your saliva as lubricant you could see the shock sitting behind his lust induced eyes. Your hands began working at his length mimicking his earlier motions — there was nothing more you wanted than to be on your knees in front of him but you were glad you fought against those urges when you felt his hands traveling under your skirt to move your panties to the side.
“Fuck.” He hissed, “you’re drenched.” Joons words only affect you in the worst way possible. Causing the pool between your thighs to deepen, “you claim you’re so fucking quiet but that’s all a facade you know. You’re a fucking slut.”
You never thought a word would affect you as much as being called a slut but you fucking loved it.
“Call me that again,” you whined, “call me that again, please.”
“You’re a slut — you know that?” the soft pads of his fingers finally arrived at their destination and quickly began massaging your clit . . lento. An eruption of lights fired in the back of your mind as Joon continued to immerse himself in bringing you utter satisfaction. You were levitating — your body vibrated which only accentuated the feeling of his heavenly touch.
“Your slut.” your lips ‘fessed up before your brain could register what you actually said.
“My slut.” He sat-up on the wooden chairs but his fingers abandoned your bundle of nerves and traveled further down resting at your entrance, “You know what you’re doing to me right?”
His face was just inches away from yours but your eyes were set on his lips — you leaned forward. Both of you began composing a magical piece in the way your lips danced against each other. His kisses were drug induced and you were already addicted; making it impossible to even pull away so you didn’t and he certainly didn’t either. Under your skirt his phantom touch ceased until you felt his pointer and middle fingers push past your entrance.
“Your fingers are blessed Joon. . They’re fucking blessed. .” you rambled on, “Blessed.”
“You think so?” He pushed them further in causing a strain of moans to fall from your swollen lips.
“Hmm.”
Joon’s pace picked up as he continued to move in and out of you repeatedly. Truly, all the words you could make out were stuttered strings of praises toward his fingers. They were fucking blessed and right then you swore you could write a million poems just on how delectable they felt inside of you.
“Uh, J-Joon. I’m so close. . so so fucking close Joon.”
“Come for me,” he whispered against the nape of your neck as he continued peppering you with silken kisses.
“Shit. .”
His fingers continued moving at a rapid pace as they finally met that spot that drove you over the edge. If you were levitating before you could easily confirm that now you danced amongst the twinkling stars.
“You were so good for me.” He was panting, his chest matching your heaving as you came down from your high, “so fucking good for me.”
His words were always so intricately sensual and you could feel your arousal throb at his dulcet praises.
Why did you hate him again? You couldn’t recall ever having such a feeling for the man you were currently straddling.
You didn’t hate him. You craved him.
After Namjoon removed his hands from underneath your skirt he brought his fingers up to your mouth and smeared your juice on your lips like lip gloss. Before you knew it you were welcoming his digits past your cerise lips tasting your sweet nectar right off his fingers.
“You are so hot.”
“Did it really take having me half naked on your lap for you to realize that?”
“Actually, no. . only one of us in this room actually hated the other.”
“I didn’t hate you.” you blurred out.
“I didn’t say you did, doll. But since you practically snitched on yourself I think it’s safe to say you despise me. ”
“I despised you. As it's in the past,” you corrected him.
“Dick is all it took to change your mind?”
“Hmm,” you took Joon’s cock in your hand slowly pumping at his shaft once again. And he just looked so good— slouched on the chair, his hair disheveled, a slight glow taking hold of his forehead and chest as sweat ran down his tan skin tone. His grin showed the way his teeth sparkle even in the darkness of the room. Namjoon is pulchritudinous and you are under his spell, “I would need to actually have you inside me to make that deduction.”
“I-I didn’t bring protection,” he let out in-between pants.
“I mean I’m clean. Are you?”
He nodded eagerly. But that didn’t suffice. You wanted to hear his raspy voice as confirmation. You tightened your hold on his erection just a bit, “I didn’t hear you.”
His jaw was clenched but still managed a soft, “I’m clean.”
“Perfect.”
Joon welcomed you back on his lap now accompanying him in complete nudity after you had finally decided to rid yourself of the clothes still covering your lower half. His keen gaze felt like it cut right through your confidence like a knife. And although it was a bit intimidating you didn’t let it set a stumble in your actions. His hand landed back on your waist like earlier that night and he guided you towards the tip of his erection.
“Hold it while you go down.”
You complied. Taking him inch-by-inch, your mouth forming into an ‘O’ immediately after his tip pushed past your entrance.
“Y-you’re so fucking big,” you could’ve sworn his length was sucking the air right out of you like a vacuum.
If you thought Namjoon’s thighs and fingers are graces sent by God himself, there was absolutely nothing in this world that could compare to his cock. There was nothing in this world that could feel so—
“J-Joon,” you moaned, attempting to keep up with the overwhelming pleasure driven by the guidance of his clammy hands as you bounced on his dick.
“You feel so good, doll. You’re doing so well.”
His praises you discovered are your weakness — his words were dipped in honey and they fed your ears affirmations you could not get enough of. Your head grew hazy at the duality in his words.
That alone drove you closer and closer to the edge. Not to mention the way his thrusts met yours was a sufficient contribution to your demise — you are about to crumble at the mercy of Kim Namjoon’s massive dick.
“R-right there,” your temples glisten with sweat and you could feel the scratchiness in your throat take flight after the past hour you’ve just had, “don’t— please don’t stop.”
“Mhm. .” His thrusts are harder. Deeper. You could feel the way he continued meeting you right where you needed him most. His eyes never lose contact where your bodies meet comforted in the way he disappears inside of you entirely.
And he continued fucking you so good. Fucking you into oblivion.
The silence that once tip-toed around the both of you was gone never to be seen again. Instead it was replaced by the squeaking of the chair (which you continued to pray it wouldn’t break), Namjoon’s groans and your slurred obscenities. It was like that for a while until your legs began to shake and your moans became too loud to suppress. Until your juices coated his cock and his filled you up.
“The Swing-” he managed after catching his breath, “Jean-Honoré Fragonard, 1767. It symbolizes the ideas of infidelity, desire, eroticism and love. The guy on the bottom left is peeking up her dress right?”
“Huh?”
“The next one on the list for our project.”
You stared at him wide-eyed, a bit stunned by the realization, “You knew the information this entire time?”
“I had to get your attention somehow right,” he snickered.
“I hate you, Kim Namjoon,” you laughed playfully, landing a punch on his arm.
“After tonight, I think we both know that is simply not true.”
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authour’s note: it took me forever to finish this for a lot of reasons but the main being that thisismyfirstsmutandiwassupernervoustopost so lol sorry if its — bad — i do apologize in advance. I tried and am using it as a way to break out of that shell and explore uncharted grounds. either way i hope some of you enjoy it lol
thank you for reading <3
- em
#kim namjoon#bts rm#bts#namjoon drabble#namjoon smut#bts smut#bangtan sonyeondan#joon smut#rm smut#bts au masterlist#bts college au#bts drabble#namjoon x reader#rm x reader#bts x reader#bts angst#poc kpop#em stories
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A while back there was a patient in the ED.
He presented with a grand mal seizure, brought in by the ambulance from a public park.
Homeless.
19.
I wasn't the one treating him, I just saw him in our obs unit before he left AMA (against medical advice).
I still think about him sometimes. I couldn't meet his eyes. I wanted to talk to him, but couldn't bring myself to. What could I say?
A veritable child. Living on the streets. What could I possibly say, knowing that we,
as a society,
we'd failed him?
#personal#medicine#emergency department#patient doctor relationship#patients#emergency medicine#em stories#homeless#homelessness
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i’m such a whore for jaw-dropping, heavily stylized, thematically laden, full of heart animation. will forever be impressed at the stories that are coming from non-disney studios having their moment to shine.
#this is a#nimona#nimona movie#post but i’m also gonna plug other stories that echo this sentiment#song of the sea#dead end paranormal park#spop#the mitchells vs the machines#kataow#kipo netflix#wendell and wild#the hollow netflix#tales of arcadia#hilda#carmen sandiego#klaus#puss in boots#i know there’s more and i’ll come back and tag em when i remember#moon girl and devil dinosaur#my dad the bounty hunter#teenage mutant ninja turtle mutant mayhem#coming back to add#the road to el dorado#bc i just watched it and tbh very good#trolls#yeah this is being added too#THE SOUNDTRACK FUCKS#also fuck disney and its being added bc it is so much better than wish#dreamworks trolls#trolls movie
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Wow. That could not have turned out worse.
Part 23 || First || Previous || Next
--Full Series--
This comic will be on Holiday Hiatus this December and January! While on a cliffhanger? What a scam! >:/
#Chara finally realizes something is wrong....very wrong#And you get to see little Chara for all of 2 drawings. wow. You guys are so spoiled uwu#Asriel and Chara bbfs#finally out of that darn tootin' Darkworld! WE'VE BEEN THERE FOR 2 YEARS!!!#LORE TIME LORE TIME. I know Chara is very vague about it but player-human relationships are very personal.#it can be hard to talk about them if you've been possessed yourself. especially with some stigmas around it#chara just wanted a glass of water. why you gotta do this to em#I am so so so happy to get here#the full excitement has faded since I first thought up this scene but It's still one hell of an accomplishment#YOU GUYS HAVE NO IDEA how many times I reworked this and how many rough drafts I've thrown out the window because of it.#tbh. I may post the 10+ rough pages that will never see the light of day#Im glad I didnt go through with that scrapped plot bc It was too many unneeded pages. I've learned to start condensing in a better way#I am also planning on showing off my Patreon soon :) so I'll be posting complete scrapped story lines over there#deltarune chara timeline#deltarune#utdr#deltarune chara timeline comic#art#my art#bread#chara#asriel#saloon darkworld#darkworld#deltarune au#college chara#college asriel
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losing my mind a little bit at the percy jackson tv show trailer because the quips? the actors?? the goddamn cover of Riptide going on in the background???? Middle school me would’ve been going NUTS and I’d be lying if I said I’m not at least a little delighted I can indulge her with this show
#I really want it to be good!! I want it to bring in a new group of pjo fans!!#I wanna share the good book stories with the new kids!!#I wanna bring more of em into the percy jackson to studying classics in college pipeline!!#percy jackson#percy jackon and the olympians#pjo#pjo fandom#percy jackson tv show#annabeth chase#grover underwood#pjo tv show#pjo series#percy jackson series#please don’t fuck it up disney
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Some silly drawings, characters from ghost in the machine by @venomous-qwille
If you can’t tell I like sunspot a lot heh ///••///
#the guy ever#my art#gitm au#I feel like my style does not fit the vibe of this story at all skndjdndjdj#but like#you’re living together with 4 robot and 1 ghost#and you can smooch all of em#of course I’m going to draw the most domestic shit ever
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erm... ace attorney au 👍
credit to @totallynotpuri and @sleepiestslooth for the idea :]
#spoon doodles#ive made a lot more these are only just a few of em :)#puri even made a whole story and plot to go along with it too :)#she is so smart!!!!!!!!#sorry sorry i just love my friends#ermmm....#oh yeah#goodtimeswithscar#gtws#scott smajor#joel smallishbeans#jimmy solidarity#ldshadowlady
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Wangxian but make it a Disney flick for furries
Alternatively titled: I went insane for 7 hours and created these in a haze
#mdzs#mo dao zu shi#wangxian#lan wangji#wei wuxian#lan sizhui#mdzs fanart#featuring: lwj as a white tiger#wwx as a silver fox#and lsz as an arctic fox#what's the story here? idk figure it out#I used a lot of fox and the hound screenshots for reference so#em draws#also yes these ARE intended to be seasons#Summer: meeting as children#Fall: Companionship as youth#Winter: Hard times#Spring: Contentment as adults
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there's such an interesting extra layer to amity and her relationships (especially w luz) that gets revealed when you learn that not only is she an abuse victim herself, but she is also the child of an abusive marriage
like not only was she personally abused/neglected and taught that she doesn't deserve to have her boundaries respected and won't get positive attention unless maybe she "earns it" by being useful and overachieving, but also her main example of a romantic partnership involved one partner exploiting the other and treating him as an expendable tool
in all of her relationships (platonic, romantic, familial), amity learns to give and receive kindness, learns to respect and set boundaries, learns that the value of herself and others aren't dictated by achievements or usefulness. she's breaking the toxic patterns that her parents taught her via their treatment of her.
but with her romantic relationship with luz, not only is she learning all of the above, but she's also breaking the toxic patterns of a romantic relationship that she would have learned from watching her parents.
when she shows kindness to luz, loves luz wholeheartedly even when she makes mistakes or causes problems, respects luz's privacy and boundaries, she is treating her girlfriend in a way that opposes the way her mother treated her own husband.
when she learns that she doesn't need to be useful or else risk abandonment/punishment, she's learning that she shouldn't accept or expect to be treated by her girlfriend the same way that her father was treated by his own wife.
i just. i love stories about characters breaking cycles. and i love luz and amity's relationship so much. it's very much not the kind of relationship i'm invested in the same way i am invested in with ships between adults. but rather like, it's a relationship between these two young people who are learning to healthily navigate this kind of relationship for the first time in their lives and it's really sweet.
#eliot posts#toh#the owl house#amity blight#abuse mention#toh meta#ive probably talked abt this a bit before but. god. i love it so much.#i LOVE stories about characters breaking cycles they drive me buckwild#lumity#if there's any good character study fics abt amity being the child of abuse and breaking that cycle... send em my way
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finding it hard to work on reqs so have this in the mean time <333
im really liking puppets, moreso just the fun colours n designs!! i wanna do my own designs of the welcome home ‘cast’ cause theyre very sillay to me Eo)))
#welcome home#uhm how do i tag this..#fanart#oh btw im very aware that i didnt quite stick to their set designs so dont be too !!!!! abt that pls#Welcome Home arg#welcome home fanart#yea#eddie dear#wally darling#julie joyful#franky frankly#howdy pillar#barnaby b beagle#poppy partridge#sally starlet#i dont know a super lot abt em so ill try to read the website more but otherwise do as i please i think#eddie is my fav............. but howdy and julie are very good too........wally is so mecore#i have some ocs in mind which will very much be like an au sort of thing#like a story based on welcome home#my art
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for the night | jhs
pairing: jhs x reader (f)
genre: angst; smut
rating: mature audiences ONLY (18+)
word count: 4.3 thousand words
summary: you and hoseok are bestfriend and in the midst of a party and your hard to decipher feelings — you make the mistake of reciprociting your bffs sexual intentions.
warnings: one night stand; mentions of sex; suppressed feelings; foul language; friends to one night stand to its complicated; penetrative (protected) sex!; oral stimulation (f. receiving); (he puts her undies in her mouth); dirty talk; slight degradation kink; semi public sex; bickering; spanking; dom-ish hoseok; house party au; jealousy; descriptions of broken heart; unresolved emotions; hoseok is kind of a fuckboi; it is complicated to say the least
posted: sunday october 16, 2022 | 9:10AM
get a feel: playlist 🎧
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Now. .
How did that saying go again? you swore you tried your hardest to recall. You did. But it was a given that past the blaring hip-hop beats being emitted (by whoever the fuck had the aux to the speaker sitting in the corner of the living room), your tympanum refused to fulfill its duty. You were still here but everything seemed just so far away — as if you were miles from here. You weren’t though because from where you stood at the foot of the stairs you were just steps away from the rather blurry swarm of bodies dancing to whatever the fuck was being played now.
Alcohol had not entered your system once that night but your head felt in a haze nevertheless and a pungent headache lurked right at its heel.
Still, everything remained at an arm’s length from reality — everything. Your hearing was muffled; your eyes couldn’t make out the simplest of details. And your body. . felt as if it was steering through the midnight sky, swimming past unobtrusive waxen clouds as the luminance of the bright stars served as your guide slowly leading your feet up the stairs.
Your hands intertwined in his — wrapped so tightly against one another it almost perfectly mimicked the loops of infinity.
It felt binding. As if you were meant to hold his hands like this forever and that very thought scared you — it was wrong. You knew deep down.
But. .
In that moment you couldn’t quite make out why you haven’t been in this situation before your clammy hands holding by his silky palms. . you’ve known eachother since diapers and you couldn’t remember the last time you both held hands at all — you have been deprived of his ravening touch.
. . because goddamn it felt do fucking right.
The stairs were congested as unrecognizable bodies lingered all over; some couples were kissing, others conversing and others simply stood around and though they were all occupied in their own endeavors you could feel their judgemental eyes on the two of you — on you.
Though the flashing lights made it nearly impossible to see; You felt dozens of prying eyes picking apart your actions as you neared the top of the stairs — his hands still leading you to the nearest available room.
All silently judging with their lingering stares and fingers pointed in your direction.
Still, the only thing on your mind concerned itself with was following him to what you knew would be the best and worst decision you’ve ever made.
You snapped out of your thoughts when he stopped abruptly in the middle of the ill-lit hallway. He spoke in a soft tone, of course, you could hear him better now as you were farther away from the ear-splitting music.
“Are you sure you wanna do this?”
“Would I have come all the way up here if I wasn’t?” You tried your hardest not to stumble on your words but you couldn’t help the feeling bubbling at the pit of your stomach. Truly, you couldn’t wait for him to take you inside one of these fucking room already.
Standing in-front of him you knew you always found your best friend attractive; you knew he had the type of beauty no other boy could embody — but you couldn’t quite pinpoint when it all just: shifted.
When everything began feeling like this.
But if there was one thing you were certain of it was what you feel is not how best friends are supposed to feel about each other.
“There's no need for formalities, Hoseok,” you grabbed him by his oversized shirt until your back met the wall directly behind you, “we’re just best friends helping each other out while at a shitty party.”
God, you were a fucking liar.
But your body ached for his touch and you just wanted to satisfy the craving even if it was just for one night.
His heart shaped lips hovered over yours while hands began to massage your inner thigh — hiking up your sundress just a bit.
“That’s the thing,” he whispered into the shell of your ear — there was a wave of electrical shocks making their way down your spine. His voice was soft as if mimicking the feeling of the grainy white sands of the beach under the soles of your feet. So soft and warm.
He continued: “You're my best friend. I really don’t want to fuck this up. But yo-”
His warm slender fingers inched closer to your core. There were traces of hesitation in his soothing exploration of your skin but you wanted all of him; all at once.
“—But what?” your arms rested on his shoulders as you raked your fingers through the long dark strands resting at his nape.
“But—” His dark eyes were cast over you like a nimbostratus cloud; you couldn’t deny it was intimidating. They were so expressive yet so difficult to read, “you know. .”
“You’re being super fucking vague, Hoseok.”
“I just want to make sure you’re aware of the implications at stake here,” his eyebrows were furrowed almost making it seem like he had a unibrow. There was a tinge of concern written over his sharp features.
You understood where his worries derived from — you did. But personally, your mind was clouded by his fingertips on your skin and personally you just craved the comforting feeling of his body heat in your vicinity to care about the consequences to follow at all.
At this moment, you couldn’t be bothered with what came next (although, you knew if anybody found out about this escapade it would be enough to cause a stir).
“Hoseok, I told you already,” you used your pointer and middle finger to guide his face closer to yours, “I just want to live in the moment.”
“I really didn’t want to hear those words from you,” his forehead was now resting on yours, “I don’t want to ruin. . us.”
“This will ruin nothing. Trust me tomorrow morning we’ll be best friends. Just as we’ve always been.”
“No feelings attached?” He asked.
There were blaring rumbles of thunder overshadowing the music just a floor below. All background noise ceased once again and you were left with a rumpus storm blazing just above you — its downpour washed over you like droplets of dismay drenching you with sorrow.
Of course, it was implied. You implied it.
But you couldn’t help how much those three fucking words gashed another wound into your heart.
“No strings attached.”
Those three fucking words. You couldn’t tell if you were pathetic or just fucking selfish.
His lips felt like pads of his cotton fingertips against your neck; all airy and light. Hoseok’s fingers reclaimed their position under the fabric of your dress and you couldn’t help the goosebumps forming on your skin.
closer.
closer.
closer.
Euphoric was truly the only way you could explain the way his digits felt against your folds even through the thin fabric of your underwear.
“Fuck—” you moaned softly, “it feels so good.”
“This isn’t even the best of it,” He rubbed gentle circles on your clit — nothing was off yet; you were both completely dressed but you already felt so indulged in pleasure your mind began dozing off causing a bit of dizziness to transpire. You were ready to comply with anything he requested.
. . That was until you heard the next few words uttered, “can you take your panties off please?”
His words were saccharine and you felt the way his soft tone bounced within your inner ear. A request which had your morals stripped but your body — your pussy, more specifically — wanted to comply without second thought.
“Like. .” you looked around the dim hallway. It was definitely vacant but you couldn’t help but feel like someone could walk up here at any moment — after all the cleanest bathroom was just a couple of doors from where he had you up against the wall, “right here. . right now?”
“What? Are you afraid someone might see us?”
Yes. No. Kinda.
Instead, though, you shook your head.
He leaned in slowly — his lips were now inches away from yours and still that smug expression remained plastered on his face.
“Then, what are you waiting for huh?” His command was masked behind a sensuous tone and though he posed his words in the form of a question, there was also a sense of command and you knew it wasn’t really a request.
If it was any other person this absurd request would’ve been thrown out the window and into the crisp midnight air to never be heard from again but it was |him|. And somehow - someway things felt different.
This was Jung Hoseok; your best friend.
He lifted your chin up — your gaze no longer lingering towards the carpeted floor.
He seemed concerned. . but you know there was no other intent of love behind his softhearted expression. At least, not how you wanted, you were only friends after all.
“Of course,” he cleared his throat, “that’s only if you want to.”
“I do.”
He flashed a smile so illuminating it could probably put that old bitch we call the sun right out of its daily occupance. Because even standing in between narrow walls making up the dark hallway his essence alone glowed so overwhelmingly bright — it was intoxicating yet comforting somehow.
You didn’t know. Your thoughts were just mush and all you could think about was his touch navigating every inch of your body.
“No, I mean—” he cleared his throat, backing away from you leaning on the way opposite from you, “are you sure you want this?” he pointed to the both of you, “I just want to make sure I’m not crossing a boundary I’m not supposed to and you seem a bit hesitant honestly.”
“It’s not hesitancy,” you began, “your, uh. . your little request took me a bit by surprise is all.”
He beamed teasingly, “Oh, I see. You’re a closed doors kind of girl.”
“Typically.”
“I’m sure there’s an available room behind one of these doors,” he shrugged.
“I suppose that’s more suitable but I’ve just decided I’m open to exploring new things beginning tonight.”
“Tonight?” he quirked an eyebrow.
“Tonight.” you confirmed. Your hand slipped under your tight dress sluggardly removing the underwear that stood between you meeting Hoseok’s digits. He closed the distance between the two of you once again caging you back against the wall.
“Are these for me?” his delicate fingers grazed your hand as he grabbed your underwear right out of your hand and placed them in his back pocket.
“I’ll let you keep them if you answer one question. .” You just needed to know.
Hoseok began placing fragile kisses on the nape of your neck — time and time again you could feel the precipitous thunderbolt traveling down your spine as his lips met your scolding skin and continued to ignite that electrifying sensation in your stomach.
“Go ahead.”
“What happened with you and—” you didn’t need to finish; you could feel the hesitancy in his touch at the mention of her name.
He cleared his throat, “broke up last week.”
“You didn—”
“I didn’t want to remember. .” he huffed.
“But it’s me, remember?” you couldn’t mask the undeniable anger in your voice, “I thought we were closer than that.”
“We are. . And I was going to tell you but I was just really trying to avoid remembering. I don’t know,” he sighed, “It was a just—”
“Just. .”
“It was tough.”
“I’m sorry you had to go through that alone,” you caressed the apples of his delicate cheeks, “but you also neglected my very reliable shoulder to cry on.”
He smiled, “I must be the worst best friend ever.”
“The worstest.”
“The worstest,” he repeated — both of his palms laid flat on the wall. One on either side of your head as he caged you into that very spot once again, “is there any way I can make it up to you?”
Although you could vaguely make out the tumultuous music just a few steps down the stairs, but the silence surrounding the bubble you two found yourselves in was deafening. It triggered an obnoxious ringing in your ear — and all your eyes were attentive to the was way his eyes roamed your figure.
Finally, the guilt you have let stand between you and acting on what you’ve felt for him (for quite sometime now) ceased.
Your brain had its time in controlling your actions — now it was time to listen to your body.
“I want you, Hoseok.”
Those four words served as the corroboration he needed in wanting to embark on his sinful endeavors because seconds after you vocalized your sexual reciprocation he was down on his knees in front of you. His hands were inching closer to your inner thighs — his fingers felt scorching hot against your skin.
“Hoseok,” he halted his ministrations on your thigh and looked up at you with dilated pupils.
“Can I eat you out doll?” He whispered his voice was low and tainted with sin.
You nodded eagerly.
He chuckled — it was deep; sedating; mischievous and it rumbled loudly coursing through you up like raucous lightning.
Hoseok didn’t say a word. He didn’t need to — you saw the way his head dipped under the dark fabric of your dress as he spread your legs further apart. Moving closer and to where your body yearned most for his attention.
It’s like you were floating on the serene waters of the ocean. The water made you feel completely weightless as the sun kissed your skin softly — that’s how it felt when Hoseok's lips met your folds in a delicate kiss.
His tongue was more menacing, though, and a bit torturous. You learned that quickly when he began swiping slow paced wet strides against your lips down below — slowly enacting a zigzag motion with the tip of his tongue on your clit. Your eyes were shut tightly as you continued carding your fingers through his hair pushing his face deeper against you completely drowning him in your juices.
And. . he continued with this subtle attack for a while but you were slowly growing impatient.
“Hoseok,” you moaned, “please, I need more.”
He hummed against your core which sent shock currents down your spine. It was chilling the power he already had over you even with just his tongue.
Hoseok grabbed the back of your thighs, placing your legs on his shoulder. You squealed as your right hand darted towards his dark locs immediately, “you’re so fucking wet you know that?”
“Damn, why haven’t I had you like this before?” His voice was a bit hoarse and a bit deeper than before. . Sexy.
He didn’t give you much time to respond at all — your head spun with a million ways to form the words, ‘I don’t know you idiot. You could’ve easily had me all along.’
But he didn’t give you time at all.
His lips hungrily crashed against your folds once again — his tongue switched to a combination of sucking and licking on the sensitive bud residing between your labia. It felt like bolts of electricity coursing through your body; the way your legs shook could attest to the avenue of pleasure he steered you down.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck—” you panted as he began slurping your juices, “your so good Hoseok. You’re fucking tongue is so good.”
A string of curses left your mouth as he continued his desirous-starved attack. The dulcet noises you both emitted disappeared into the muggy air of the unfilled hallway. . well unfilled besides the two of you of course.
“Hoseok, I’m g-gonna cum.” you stuttered.
“Cum,” he hummed against you, “cum for me, doll.”
A massive wave of pleasure washed over your body as you felt the knot in your abdomen tightened. His name was the last coherent word out of your mouth before you succumbed to yelps of bliss while riding out your orgasm.
“You were so fucking good for me doll,” he wiped your juices right off his chin, “so sweet. . so fucking sweet.”
You wanted to express so much but your mouth simply did not comply. You were still floating on the cerulean waters, completely immersed in the tinges of pleasure which lingered behind.
“My tongue alone made you dumb?” He snickered, setting your feet back onto the floor.
“D-don’t get cocky Jung Hoseok,” you rolled your eyes.
“D-don’t,” he teased, “someone sounds clearly affected. Plus, if I remember correctly you were praising my tongue just seconds ago. . you know, before you made a mess of your face.”
You scoffed playfully, punching his arm, “I practically had to fake that whole thing.”
“Oh, yeah?” There are hints of an insinuated challenge lingering in his tone, “then what was the whole ‘Uh, Hoseok I’m coming — im coming’ about?” He dramaticized in a high pitch tone, his eyes rolling to the back of his head.
“You’re delusional,” you glanced towards the top of the stairs — still, you two were alone.
“Don’t tell me you’re still anxious about our very discreet location choice?” he winked, “I told you no one comes up here. Joon’s very strict about it.”
You shrugged.
“That’s too bad. . I kinda had a great idea pop into my head just now.”
“Which would be?” your interest was definitely peaked but you just knew it would be something along the lines of his sexual desires (something you were definitely not opposed to), and this damned hallway.
“Can I fuck you right here?”
His words rammed into your head like a truck. If you were in a mental dismay before now your brain was completely reduced to a puddle of nothing — just a massive puréed mess sitting behind your skull.
It was simply not functioning anymore.
You’d imagine him to be like this behind closed doors. It would explain the trail of girls following behind him with broken hearts (even when he was in a relationship), but you never actually thought you’d be in this position — his filthy words expressed for your ears only.
“Yes,” You forcefully swallowed down your nervousness, “yes, please fuck me right here.”
“Turn around for me,” You did.
He hiked your dress up to your waist, exposing your bare ass in the process, “Damn, I really missed out on you before today. You’re all full of surprises aren’t you bestfriend?”
You giggled — God, you sounded like a high school girl with a crush.
“Just look at this ass,” he landed a smack after another on your bottom. Your ass felt red hot and you were sure his hand prints had marked you as his. And every single time his palm met your skin you could feel how drenched you became.
“Hoseok,” you cried out.
“You’re a fucking goddess.” Again, his honeyed praises were like a boastful ballad to your ears and you loved it; you were consumed by it — completely and utterly intoxicated by it.
“You’ll be the fucking death of me, Jung Hoseok.”
“Before that happens though, can you please open your mouth for me, doll?” He asked. You complied easily; leaning your head back to take a look at him to try and decipher what he was plotting. . instead you found him digging into his back pocket and you quickly seemed to put two-and-two together.
“Can I?” He asked rolling your underwear into the shape of a ball — you nodded welcoming the silk fabric past your lips. Hoseok held your chin; his eyes glued on yours, “you're more mesmerizing than the stars themselves. A dream is what you are. . so perfect.”
Still, stood pressed up against the wall with a warm sensation spreading to your cheeks at his adoring reassurances. Avidity pumped through your veins as your back faced him waiting as he slipped the condom on his erection. You wanted to tell him to hurry fuck up but instead you opted for patience plus you weren’t exactly in a position to communicate any intelligible words.
“Are you ready?”
You nodded vigorously — immediately his laugh rumbled through the hallway. Your evident ‘eagerness’ was still ‘likely’ a bit pathetic but you didn’t care.
Instead of basking in serenity while floating on the light current of the ocean water, as you previously were — your body was driven by anticipation and the persistent titillation bubbling deep in your stomach as you waited for him to fill you up.
Though, it didn’t take long at all for Hoseok to fulfill your unspoken wish as his cock pushed past your entrance, burying itself deep in you.
“Are you doing OK?” He asked after letting you adjust to him for a couple minutes, “can I move?”
You nodded once again as the makeshift gag prevented you from being vocal at all.
Hoseok’s pace was expeditious in the way it completely invaded your walls as he moved his hips to a pace that had you a mumbling mess in-front of him.
But he kept at it — forward and backward he moved. His delectable rhythm met your desire where you needed him most.
“You love this don’t you? You’ve been hiding from me all this time but I — fuck—,” Hoseok groaned as he continued pounding into your pussy, “I have you all figured out. You like to be fucked like a fucking slut.”
Your muffled moans were scarcely audible but both of you knew Hoseok was deciphering your body in a way no one ever has.
“You’re about to cum aren’t you baby? You’re fucking squeezing so tight agaisnt me,” You couldn’t see him at all but you knew — you just knew — he looked heavenly nearing his climax, “I’m so close too. . so fucking close.” he rambled on.
The both of you only lasted a couple more minutes before you were engulfed in a mountainous wave of pleasure.
“You were—” he began through uneven breaths, “fucking amazing.”
He removed the black underwear from your mouth, “you did all the work though.”
“It was the least I could do.”
There was a vibrant; and slightly idiotic smile plastered on your face, “you’re just saying that cause I finally let you fuck me.”
“I’m incapable of lying. You should know that.”
“You’re a pathological liar you mean,” you teased, “and give me my panties back. I need those!”
“Trust me, you don’t need these where we’re going,” he winked and he held out his hand for you — you placed your hand in his as he led you down the hallway and finally to the privacy of one of the rooms.
The rays of the early morning sun illuminated the room as they snuck their way in through the slightly drawn blinds. You yawned — stretching your hand to greet the boy who had spent the latter time of the night devoting himself to bringing you pleasure.
. . But he wasn’t there.
There was a slight crack opening in the walls of your heart as gloominess lingered in quickly followed by a vigorous rainstorm.
He left.
He left.
God, you were overthinking.
This meant nothing. He was likely just a floor below getting himself some breakfast.
Yeah.
Why did he leave you so fast though? You wanted to talk to him — to tell him how you really felt. You just wanted to let it all out.
Where was he?
Your dress was discarded on the floor — but his clothes were gone; no longer contributing to the pool of clothes composed of both of the garments you both rid yourselves just a few hours prior.
His clothes are gone. . You weren’t hung over. God knows you hadn’t touched a single drink at the party but your head was pounding — drumming to the beat of the strident crescendo thumping at your chest.
Quickly, you slid on your dress and traveled down the hallway of — memories — and down the stairs. The further you traveled into the living room area the more you realized nearly every inch of the house was disarranged and littered beyond recognition.
“Fuck—” you nearly triped on a mountain of discarded solo cups left on Joon’s floor.
“Who died?” You recognized that voice anywhere.
“I’m good, Namu. Not dead yet but I will hold you liable if I break my neck trying to make it to the kitchen,” you yelled back.
“And I will be happy to be held accountable no questions asked,” you smiled as you rounded the corner into the kitchen; he was making coffee. “So, what did you get into last night?” He held up a mug inaudibly asking if you wanted some as well and you nodded.
“Uh, I wasn’t feeling too good so I crashed in one of the guest rooms upstairs.”
“Did you at least have fun? I blacked out within the first fucking fifteen minutes and now look at this place,” he handed you your hot drink as he pulled out one of the stalls to take a seat beside you.
“Yeah,” you stammered trying to avoid any unintentional reaction to become visible on your features — you really didn’t feel like lying anymore than you already had to this morning, “it was definitely your best party yet.”
“I’m glad to hear.”
“Is anybody still around?” Though, ‘Is Hoseok still around?’ is what you really wanted to ask.
“Jimin and Jungkook are upstairs in Jungkook’s room. I’m not entirely sure where the rest are and Hoseok is outside talking to his ex or current girl,” he shrugged, “I’m not sure what’s happening there.”
No wonder he left you alone in bed.
He was talking to her.
The despairing song continued its loop blaringly and you could feel the cracks ripping apart the walls of your heart.
“I’m gonna run upstairs to shower and then clean around. Are you leaving now?”
“I’ll stay behind and help, if you want.”
“Of course. I’ll be right back.”
Namjoon’s exit from the kitchen was your cue to stand by the window with a clear view to the backyard. . though you figured in the back of your head you knew you couldn’t help but feel utterly defeated when your eyes caught a glimpse of their lips dancing so passionately against each others.
The calming sea you once felt has grown hungry and in a swift movement it swallowed you down to the bottom of the sea.
As you laid on the floor of the ocean you recalled the saying your mind failed to remember the night before: do not sleep with your fucking bestfriend.
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author’s note: well here we are again at — smut plaza — again, excuse if this bad as it is only my 2nd smut ever and I. . well I tried.
The playlist included at the top is a compilation of songs which kind of helped me write this truly; so I hope you all enjoy it as much as i did.
<3 thank you so much for reading!
#bts#jung hoseok#hobi#hoseok smut#hobi smut#hoseok x reader#bts x reader#bts masterlist au#bts smut#bts college au#bts angst#em stories#hoseok angst#bts au#hoseok x you#hobi angst#kim seokjin#hobi x you#jin#kim namjoon#joon#park jimin#bts v#kim taehyung#min yoongi#suga#jeon jungkook#ambw kpop
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You got your ears pierced to impress someone, even though you had mixed feelings on them. They did not care about you in the end, and so you took them out.
You used to wear the woman's clothes people gave you as "gifts", it would be rude if you didn't. With time, they have drifted away and no longer monitor and judge you. That pink, stretchy sweater sits in the bottom of you dirty laundry bin, forgotten.
You tried to learn how makeup works, because everyone said you could hide your acne and tired eyes with it. It never worked out, you always looked strange and it made you feel worse about yourself. You have not had foundation in your house in years.
You tried alligning yourself into the skin of a woman multiple times now, you have been trying to get it right so people will respect you. Don't you notice how all your attempts to be feminine fall to the way side? Don't you notice how all these attempts are for other people; when was the last time you got what you wanted?
A man like you shouldn't have to repackage himself in lies and sell it back to others.
#autoandrophilia#force masc#forcemasc#ftm#ftm hypno#So true story i did get piercings to impress someone. Went bad. Dont have em no more#Maybe ill get em again someday but in the comfort of people who are better about these things.#Anyways i have no story ideas so eat this for rn
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Coming here to stop the debate bout whatever is the better type of angel between anime girl and celestial horror cause BOTH are good and are equally skilled at bringing down plagues upon people
#and no they aint part of my file recovery story just drawing em for fun#my ocs#angel oc#angel ocs#celestial oc#body horror#anime girl
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against all odds (to wait for you is all i can do) – part eight
alexia putellas x photojournalist!reader
warnings: none
(a/n in the tags) [parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve]
word count: 4.2k
words in italics: whatever language you like
“Make sure you stick close to your uncle the entire time and remember: if you don’t feel well or if, at any point, you want to leave, just tell Uncle Robert and he’ll get you out of there, okay?”
Elisa nodded as she bounced on the balls of her feet.
“Alright. Put on your headphones and follow your uncle.”
“Follow.” Elisa pronounced the word slowly, before she continued in English, “you said it wrong, Mom. You say it like this.”
Then she repeated the word again.
You smiled, nodded before you repeated the word for her. “Got it. Thanks, ladybug. Now go, I’ll catch you guys later.”
Tucking a loose hair behind her ear, you hugged Elisa one last time and placed a kiss on the top of her head before you let her go. She bounded to where Robert was standing, gave you one last enthusiastic wave, then you watched as they began to walk off to the direction of their seats.
Now that you were alone, faced with the corridor that lead down to the pitch, you took a deep breath, exhaled, and then with leaden legs you began to walk.
To say that you were nervous was an understatement; you were absolutely terrified. Not only because this was you first coverage after… after the last one, but also due to the fact that this would be the first time you were going to see Alexia in person since the night you left.
Alexia wouldn’t recognise you–no, she wouldn’t even know you were here–you saw to it. You asked Derek to register you under Jersey’s name because the client was none other than Alexia’s agent, a request that earned you a dirty look from Derek but he indulged you anyway. And as a precaution, you made sure to wear a face mask–an accessory that was met by a knowing, raised brow from Robert and a worried, ‘Are you sick, Mom?’ from Elisa–not to mention that your hair now was different compared to then.
No. Alexia wouldn’t recognise you; you were, after all, only a face among the many that adored her.
You kept walking, shielding your eyes from the brilliant stadium lights as you stepped foot on the grass.
Fifteen months. What good did that time do you? Just the mere thought of Alexia’s eyes suffused you with such burning ardour that neither a kiss nor touch from another could come close to her–there simply was no competition. You couldn’t even let another touch you the way she did because the act of kissing another’s lips was enough to incite guilt in you.
But why? How could Alexia still have this much hold over you after all this time? Was it because this was the first time you felt something deeper for someone, something that transcended the physical aspect of a relationship? Or was it the fact that the moment you let yourself be vulnerable, almost offered yourself completely, everything came crashing down? And now, you found yourself hung up on someone who had clearly moved on.
But, a small part of you reasoned, if Alexia had truly moved on, why still try to commission you? Why would she want you around? Maybe she… No. You shook your head firmly. That wasn’t possible.
Pain throbbed in your foot as it collided with the sponsor board that lined the spot you picked, earning you a few concerned glances from the nearby photographers who were already there. You cursed internally, dropping your bag to the ground, as you offered the others a sheepish smile and an apology. The pain brought you back to reality though, a reminder that you needed to get your mind out of the gutter and that you had a job to do.
You had weeks to prepare yourself for this. Everything would be okay. How hard could this be, really?
An hour passed and the stadium was filled to the brim with Spanish red and Brazilian yellow to witness the first match of each team for this tournament. Each nation’s supporters clapped and roared when the players began to run out to the pitch. And all the mental preparation you’d done for this left you completely.
The moment she stepped out of that tunnel and the stadium lights shone down on her, it felt like you only learnt how to breathe again. There Alexia stood: the slope of her shoulder familiar, the strength carved in the curves of her back looked stronger, and the lines of her arms just as inviting as they were the first time you met.
And those eyes, even if there were meters between you the weight in them–that low, burning fire–was all too apparent from where you stood.
Despite yourself, you found yourself smiling beneath your mask. She looked healthy; happy.
As the starting whistle breached through the chants of the crowd and resounded through the arena, you found yourself content–content at being an spectator of Alexia’s life, to watch her shine from afar, that was enough.
Parc des Princes. Sweden vs. Spain: The Clash of the Titans.
Not even two hours before kickoff and a significant crowd had already gathered by the entrance points of the stadium donning their respective supporter colours. It was no surprise to see such numbers very early on this fine Saturday evening because ever since the results from the dramatic Semi-Finals that saw Sweden and Spain through to the Finals, it was the talk of the town: the World’s Number One against the World Champions; both formidable in their own rights made them titans indeed.
And the question of who would emerge victorious would be answered tonight.
You saw firsthand how Spain brazenly blazed through this competition, knocking out their tougher competitions in the form of Germany and Japan in the Quarters and the Semis respectively in a similar fashion. They were a force to be reckoned with driven by their purpose and it made you more than proud to see how far they’d come.
Though it had been difficult you managed to remain undetected throughout the length of this tournament, something that you were truly grateful for. And after tonight, you could as easily slip out of Alexia’s world just as you had seamlessly gone in for the last time. The last thing you wanted to do was to jeopardise Spain’s chance at winning no matter how little an impact your presence would cause if you were discovered by Alexia.
But the thing was, you couldn’t lie and say you felt nothing as you watched Alexia from afar because you did: all the regret and desire… the longing; they were all there with you. More than once you found yourself wanting to run into her arms, to tell her you missed her, to let her know she saved you, to tell her… But you knew in your heart that that couldn’t be, so you allowed yourself this brief luxury, this silent, intimate appraisal of what and who she’d grown into even if she herself didn’t know it–you captured it all and to you that was more than enough.
As for Elisa she was nothing but ecstatic, a bundle of energy through and through. If you were being honest, you had doubted your decision to bring her with you because you didn’t know how being surrounded with tens of thousands of people would affect her even though she’d told you multiple times she could manage it. But to your relief, Elisa had immersed herself in the sport, blanketed herself in its atmosphere and in fact, she seemed to thrive in it. On the way home after each of Spain’s match you went to, Elisa would recount in vivid clarity all the instances she deemed to be highlights of the match–of course most of them were about Alexia which wasn’t a surprise considering how much she meant to her.
Elisa was enjoying herself and that, truly, brought you immense joy and comfort. She never asked you for it but you knew how Elisa badly wished to meet her inspiration, her and Robert had tried at the end of each match to stick around to meet her but so far, they had no luck.
No, Elisa never asked for you to do anything about it but that didn’t mean you couldn't try. You couldn’t quite think of how to go about it just yet but seeing as how the match before your eyes was the last, you knew your time to decide was beginning to run out.
The thing about football was that it was unpredictable, one minute it could be going your way, the next it could be the opponent’s; nothing was set in stone and anything could happen.
It was nearing the forty-minute mark, the scoreline was still down at all nil, when Aitana sent the ball lobbing from the middle, just at the edge of the penalty box, into one of Sweden’s goalposts for Alexia who’d already made her surge forwards. In response, Zećira Mušović dove for the nearest post, just about managing to grab the ball as it landed a few paces in front of Alexia’s feet but the ball went out of play as it slipped from her grip. Alexia was going too fast though and your heart jumped in your chest with worry as Alexia leaped over Mušović’s prone form, barely avoiding a collision with the Swedish goalkeeper, before she ended up slamming against the sponsor board and–
Suddenly, the air was knocked from your lungs as your back slammed to the ground and the back of your head throbbed with a dull ache that made you groan. And then you felt the warm weight pressed against you, dangerously familiar and way too close for comfort but it was gone before you could open your eyes. When you did you found honey-coloured eyes that you knew all too well as Alexia regarded you with concern.
“I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” Alexia asked, her ragged breathing made her accent all the more pronounced, and she took both of your hands in hers to help you to your feet. You tried hard not to think about the warmth of her palms on your skin–in fact, you hardly had any thoughts at all–and your throat was so parched you could only nod at her question.
Only once you got back on your feet did you notice Alexia had gone stock still. The sudden change in her demeanour worried you at first, especially when she hadn’t let go of your hands yet, and then confusion settled in. That was when you realised her attention was zeroed in on the string around your right wrist… at the bracelet she made you, the one you couldn’t bear yourself to part with.
Your eyes widened and you snatched your hands back, shielding your wrist from view with your other hand but you knew it was already too late. Alexia now looked at you, the concern in her gaze now shone together with… something else, eyes red as unshed tears clung to her lashes.
“You…” Alexia’s voice low–restrained–as her throat bobbed and her chin quivered.
The sound of the whistle barely registered in your mind and Alexia looked like she hadn’t heard it too, her eyes remained glued to you as if she’d seen a ghost. Then Aitana was by her side, hand around her arm as Aitana attempted to tug her back into the game but she just wouldn’t budge. Aitana regarded you briefly, the clear confusion in her eyes difficult to miss, before she tried to coax her captain away again.
“Alexia. Go.” You said as you gently pushed Alexia away with a hand on her stomach. She flinched from your touch–and her reaction really shouldn’t hurt this much but it did anyway–so you quickly retracted your hand away. Only after that did Alexia finally let herself be pulled away by Aitana but not without staring at you as she went.
This was bad. Out of all the times that this could happen, why now?
You picked up your camera, the fact that it was intact offered you little comfort, and the urge to run away pervaded you. You so desperately wanted to pack everything and leave, allow Elisa to enjoy the match and maybe just sit this one out in the crowd with her. Alexia didn’t need to know.
The thought was tempting.
But with clenched fists, you stayed.
A moment later, the Swedish supporters roared when Spain conceded a goal during extra time which left them now down to one goal. Spain still had enough time to try and equalise, and their chance was given in the form of a penalty.
Alexia stepped up but Mušović denied her a goal and your heart ached from the way Alexia shook her head, dejected as she looked up at the sky.
The halftime whistle blew and you watched as the players walked towards the tunnel entrance but, your eyes widened when you saw her, Alexia was making her way towards you, stride long and with purpose. Her face was neutral but the way her lips was pressed in a thin line revealed that she was anything but calm.
Oh, fuck.
You didn’t even have time to compose yourself–or do anything, really–because before you knew it, Alexia had leaped over the sponsor board, gripped the monopod with your camera and ripped it away from your hand. A protest left your lips but it was quickly cut off when you felt her other arm around your waist, pulling you to her with a strength that left you breathless. And when you felt her front pressed firmly against your own and her warmth immediately seeped into your bones, everything melted away–the flutter of camera shutters, the roar of the crowd–your world became Alexia entirely.
Everything just fell rightly into place. It felt like coming home.
Alexia didn’t say anything, just craned her neck so she could rest her head against your shoulder. At first you were frozen, your arms still and left hanging by your side, but as you felt the way Alexia’s ribs expand and the way her heartbeat jumped through her jersey, you came back to yourself and finally, you slid your arms around her, your hands immediately finding purchase in the small of her back.
You gripped her jersey as you sank into her embrace, pressing your cheek against her collarbone, and god, what did you do right in this lifetime–or the last–to have her back in your arms like this? You breathed her in and you nearly sobbed at the intimate familiarity of her scent.
“Alexia, I–” You began but you shook your head. So instead, you choked out, “Alexia, you shouldn’t be here.”
Silence was the only answer and Alexia seemed to cling all the more tightly to you after the words left your mouth. And you could feel it, the despondency in the slope of her back as if they already had lost the match. Guilt ate away at you. You did this, didn’t you?
“Listen to me, Ale. Your team is waiting for you. They need their Captain, Alexia. They need you.”
At those words, Alexia only buried herself further into you as if she wanted herself to disappear completely. Then she spoke in a voice so small you could barely recognise it was her talking.
“I messed up. I… I can’t be what they need me to be right now. I feel weak.”
You recognised this, the familiar shadow of doubt that tinged Alexia’s thoughts and marred her confidence. Although rare to rear its head, its venom was lethal when it did, attacking her weakest parts, right where it hurt the most.
Cradling the nape of her neck with a gentle hand, you let her fall all the more closer to you and you whispered softly, but firm in the way you enunciate the words, to get your message through to her.
“‘The match is not won until the last second is lost.’ Alexia, isn’t that what you told me? You can't just give up now. You can't lose faith in your teammates right now." Alexia’s breath hitched at your words, her arm around your waist tightened. You continued, “your strength is their strength, and theirs are yours. I used to tell you, remember? You're so strong but it's not all yours to carry, Alexia. You're only human but that doesn't make you weak. Have faith in them... have faith in you."
You turned your head just so so you could rest your temple against the line of her jaw before you said, “now go, Alexia. Your team needs you.”
Alexia leaned in to your touch and sighed. She nodded and finally she loosened her grip but before she fully extricated herself from you, she said in a raw voice but not with malice, “I’m still mad at you.”
You couldn’t help it, the small laugh that bubbled out of your throat as you rested your forehead against her shoulder.
“Fair enough. You can be mad at me all you want later but right now, you have a match to win.”
She pulled away and you finally saw her eyes. Albeit red and raw around the edges, the hazel in them shone with a familiar brilliance, a hungry fire undiminished by the tears in her eyes. You longed to dry her tears but Alexia did it herself, swiping the back of her hand over her eyes. She handed you back your camera, hand lingering on your right wrist as she brushed the pad of her thumb over the string there, gave you one last look and a nod, before she jumped over the sponsor board and sprinted to the tunnel entrance, the crowd roaring as she went past them.
At her departure, the rest of the world came back to focus: the stadium, the screaming fans, the blare of the halftime music… the cameras pointed at you, from the broadcasting channels to the phones of the fans on the stands; you were the subject of all their eyes, all their lenses. Even when you glanced at your fellow photographers, most of them had their cameras pointed at you, some looked at you with passing curiosity while some stared at you as if you’d grown an extra pair of head.
Your ears and cheeks warmed at the attention, gut coiling uncomfortably as you adjusted your face mask, something that you were all the more grateful for especially after that little public display from Alexia. You kept your head down as you walked the length of the sideline towards Sweden’s goal for the next half, and you tried your hardest to ignore the weight of the stares by pretending to tend to your equipment.
Then you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket. You fished it out and found a message from Robert.
‘That was… pretty public. Are you feeling alright?’
You looked up, tried to pick out Elisa and Robert from the crowd but when you couldn’t, you typed out your reply.
‘I’m fine, thank you. How are the both of you?’
‘Well, Elisa’s just about as ecstatic as any child who found out that their mom knows their favourite football player. She’s been asking questions non-stop, I don’t even know how to answer them all. Please help.’
Despite your situation, you chuckled at the image of Elisa pestering her uncle.
‘Tell her she can save her questions for me later. Don’t say anything else.’
‘Okay, thank you. And hang in there.’
The loud cheers from the crowd drew your attention away from your phone and upon looking up, found that the players had begun entering the pitch. Automatically, your viewfinder was to your eye, framing the players as they went and taking a shot.
Alexia was last to step foot on the field and you didn’t miss the way she looked over the last spot she saw you and when she couldn’t find you there, her head swivelled around as she jogged to her position in the opposite half. She found you eventually and even with fifty meters between you, the intensity of her stare reached you. It made you shiver–hopeful in spite of yourself–but when the whistle cut through the air once more, you readied your camera, breath held for what was yet to come.
The game went on and you were so focused on trying to do your job that you couldn’t keep up with the details but the fact was this: no matter how hard Spain pressed forward, Sweden’s defensive effort increased twofold, and whenever Spain played deep to keep Sweden in check, Sweden prodded forward, constantly chipping away at Spain’s defensive line with each effort.
After Sweden’s attempt at Spain’s goal came an opportunity. One minute Cata had the ball in hand, the next the ball was by Alexia’s feet who took one touch before she passed it between two defenders to Salma who was waiting past the halfway line, who then dribbled the ball into Sweden’s penalty area, then she cut it back and crossed it to Aitana who angled her run just enough to tap the ball in.
One-one.
The crowd roared to life and Spain’s fire was reinvigorated. They had eleven minutes left of normal play to score another goal and win. Both teams clashed, gave their all throughout the remaining time, then through to additional and extra time.
Now the moment of truth: a penalty shootout at Sweden’s goal.
Your palms began to sweat, nervous for Alexia. When was she taking her penalty?
Spain went first. They got it in. Sweden as well. One-one.
Then it was two–two.
Spain got their third. Sweden took their shot but Cata deflected it.
Mušović stepped up this time and blocked Spain’s fourth. Cata, again, anticipated right and denied Sweden their own.
You drew in a staggered breath as Alexia began to walk. Once she got to the ball, she flicked it up with her foot and caught it easily with her hands. Click. Through the lens, you watched as Alexia turned the ball over then placed it right by the penalty spot. Click. Then she began fixing her socks, adjusting her shoes, brushed her left ankle with her thumb–click– and she leant back up, resting her hands by her waist as she waited for the whistle. You zoomed in on her face: she was stoic, calm as she eyed the goal, beads of sweat lined her forehead and the bridge of her nose–click.
The whistle blew.
Alexia took five steps back, one step to her right. She took two short strides forward and on the third, her left foot connected with the ball. The net moved with an audible swish from the power behind her kick, depositing the ball in the bottom right corner of the goal and the crowd roared–or was it you who was screaming?–as the rest of Spain’s team ran to their captain to hug her.
Spain won.
Photo after photo, you captured Spain as they celebrated, their cheers and victorious cries. And when each member of Spain’s team walked the stage to receive their golden medals, the feeling that surged through you was something else entirely.
The celebration went on but as the crowd thinned and the live broadcast ended, anxiety filled you once again. You tried to keep track of where Alexia was but she’d been surrounded by so many people that you lost her in the celebration. Not knowing what to do with yourself, you packed up your things but kept your camera out as you hung about at the edge of the pitch near the stands.
And then you heard it.
“Mom!”
You turned to the sound and found Elisa who was leaning against the safety rail of the stands just off to the side of the tunnel entrance, an enthusiastic arm waving in the air as she grinned at you. Beside her was Robert who, too, was leaning on the railing with his elbows who gave you a small wave as you jogged over to them, pushing your face mask down on the way.
“Elisa, ladybug, careful you might fall!” You reprimanded but a smile made its way on your lips all the same and either way, your words fell on deaf ears as Elisa excitedly bounded up and down.
“Mom! Did you see that?! That was so intense! And did you see how Alexia just went,” Elisa imitated Alexia’s strike and an affectionate laugh bubbled out your throat at her display, “and it was the best!”
Then Elisa stilled, eyes widening as she looked past you. “Oh my god, Mom, it’s–”
“‘Mom?’”
It was Alexia but her voice was almost unrecognisable because of how flat it sounded. You whipped your head back and surely, the expression Alexia wore accentuated the barely hidden animosity but it wasn’t directed at you nor Elisa. Rather, you found her glaring up at Robert and at his hand resting on the railing where the gold band on his finger was visible–glinting.
You looked at Alexia, whose demeanour was souring by the second, then at Robert who looked paler than you’d ever seen him before, then to Alexia again.
Oh, no.
#ap11#not proofread#mine#my writing#a/n: manifesting for spain to get through the qualifiers and then win the olympics#also an extra round of apologies for any grammar/spelling mistakes for this one#hope you guys like this and would love to know what you think about the story so far#apologies for any grammar and spelling mistakes ill work on em later#woso x reader#alexia putellas x reader
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secret workplace romance era
#the third pic is my best screenshot ever i think#*earthwrld#*bliss jackson#*sean wallace#*jackson: gen 1#em: stories#ts4 rotational gameplay#*current save#sim community#ts4#sims 4 story#ts4 maxis mix#sims 4 legacy#ts4 legacy#sims of color#lgbtq simblr#black simblr#sims community
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Jesstra sticker is done and I also updated the Jesskas one too 👀
#uh let me know if you guys would be interested in charms too#ive already made some of the jesskas one for close friends but if more people want em then?#my art#mcsm#jesskas#jesstra#mcsm jesse#mcsm lukas#minecraft story mode#mcsm petra#mcsm fanart
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