#god i wish people like that didn't exist | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

Tumblr was the first site to host the blog for President Barack Obama in 2011.

#god i wish people like that didn't exist

hauntedpearl · 2 years

Text

i was raised by quiet people.

and we don't know how to talk to each other.

our house is a world of anger that never truly dissipates and words that hang in the air like hailstones ready to pelt your skin.

we don't know how to shape the words "i love you" with our mouths.

we don't know what it means to hold the weight of "sorry" on our tongues.

the morning after my parents fight, my father wakes up early and turns on the tv. he likes the quiet, but mom's always appreciated the sound of music.

he plays the songs she likes.

when i thought my heart was breaking, i didn't know how to make it go away.

i didn't know how to let the words locked in my jaw, behind my teeth, out.

how do you find the means to make the things you don't know exist in this world?

how do you even know that you can?

i was raised by quiet people.

so i stretched my fingertips to touch yours.

i let you leave the impressions of the whorls of your thumb on my skin.

i don't know how to shape the words "i love you" with my mouth.

i don't know how to bear the weight of the words "i'm scared" on my tongue.

i am trying, though. in the ways of the quiet people.

in the language of bright eyes and desperate touches.

the world is so close to ending, and i feel the premonition of the aftershocks in my bones.

i am holding your hand, and praying the inevitable away.

not a word past my lips — only breath, shallow and sharp.

i was raised by quiet people.

i don't know how to be another way.

#YOU CAN RB THIS BUT ALSO PLS BE NICE IN THE TAGS IF YOU DO THIS IS ME TRYING TO PROCESS SOMETHING OKAY #doe's writing #i am so. i am going through things. i don't know how to let it out except like this #idk does this count as poetry #god i wish i could let people love me i wish i could let myself love others easily i wish i had the vocabulary to express all that #i wish my view of the world wasn't so warped and fucked up and i wish i didn't inflict myself on people the way i fo #i wish i could stop thinking of existing with people are an infliction upon them #how do you heal? i keep trying but i think I'm farther behind than i was before #god i wish i didn't exist some days #anyway. t #here you can have my existential angst #THIS IS ABOUT FRIENDSHIP BTE #BTW*#but like you always gotta be a little in love with your friends #hmmm #okay #bye good night

108 notes · View notes

unproduciblesmackdown · 5 months

Text

billions figuring winston shouldn't just also still be there in the end with the guys we accept so he needs to be sent out, which, it's also remarkable to recall like "okay does he still technically, partially work at/for axe global then? it's a 'maybe' but what matters is that he's not There even if so"....the way that even if we infer he did get to finally be sick of waiting on better, we weren't even given so much of an arc of a couple episode's leadup showing him markedly being more frustrated / fed up with The Usual bullshit or anything like that, the way it went with one ep to spare "oh right winston's catchphrases! we all know & loathe them" like don't strain yourselves....that even in giving up on things, winston still has to be further let down by everyone even after quitting, like well that's probably ultimately helpful for him but it was (a) forced on him and (b) not sure i'd give billions the credit for anything sympathetic towards winston versus "well the only thing to be done with winston material is have fun while epic winners shit on him however they want," the wags plotline had no point just like the later one that could've been scrapped & transformed into "how about taylor gets any dialogue this episode"....the way that billions may imagine like hmm what to do with winston? all that can Ultimately happen with him is he has to go away and die, for him it's [out of sight out of mind out of Existence], just as has been the show's approach for the consequences of him being shitted on all th time for years before this: there are none, b/c we're not looking at them, and winston is never not completely [othered] including right now, and if it helps for some reason we'll talk about how we might be fine if he literally dies. and so we're graced with a "who knows or cares, he's just gone, finally. after being kept around b/c it's so fun seeing winners torment him" ending as the only one they find imaginable for winston

#uptick in annoyance about it on this day....#fundamentally at odds w/billions thanks in no small part to a pretty guaranteed inherent [this is a meritocracy] approach #when the cocreators expect us to simply Understand that people on the show have a superior level of Smartness; for one....ruh roh #and where then everything abt being Critical & Questioning is like....abt possible Exceptions or small adjustments to The Rules....#would not be surprised if winston is such ''proof'' like ''see; someone like him shouldn't be able to be here''#at least there's the checks & balances of being ignored; dispreferred; bullied; to the point of eventually driving him out!#rian only being ''wrong'' to have made herself his personal bully b/c what would've been more correct would be ignoring him more often #whilest again like can't suppose based on anything that billions asks us to Reflect on winston leaving. it's just good #so too is Corrective(tm) bullying / interpersonal abuse. would've had wendy push aba if they did consider winston to be autistic....#but instead kept it informal....#winston billions #billions world: where yeah autistic ppl just have to go away i guess #where they cease to exist b/c they aren't real people like us. just as winston's feelings this whole time never Had to be relevant....#they barely existed & were surely just incorrect when they did. kind of like him overall #and in the meantime didn't we all enjoy going ''god i wish that were me'' at bullying assaulting abusing the autistic guy #bit charitable of us if anything! guiding them towards the light like that. cue ''wow rian aren't you just Too pityingly nice to him*''#(*the being more godawful to him than anyone since she showed up; including being just as bad if not as usual worse right now)#anyways like nodding dehumanizing the autistic person start to finish. who must Stop Being Here

2 notes · View notes

paperclipninja · 2 days

Text

I'm gonna sound very old person yells at cloud but I don't care, I feel like I need to say this. We all (well most of us) know that messaging Neil with any headcanons/theories/wishes/hopes/dreams to do with the show is a no-go because it could potentially compromise the story he wants to tell or ends up telling. And yes, he is a grown up who chooses what to respond to etc and I think it's wonderful he engages with fans and answers a lot of lovely and interesting questions about his process, writing and journey etc.

However, there is another reason not to send theories and ideas about how the show should go to the show creator in the hope of a response: it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter whether a theory is correct, or a speculation may or may not play out. That is why fandom exists.

Online fandom is where we all come together to yell and cry and throw around weird-ass ideas and theories and look at art and read fanfic and unite in our love of characters and a show. A huge part of being in fandom, is the way fandom theories become like an understood little bit of fanon lore that some people attach to, others disregard. But it doesn't matter. And part of the fun of fandom, is when a new season or a new episode of the show comes out, you have this collective catalogue of ideas and theories and headcanons and you get to yell and scream, "omg it happened1" or "lol that that thing was ever talked about" or "thank god that theory didn't come to pass".

Wanting to know now (not that we ever will) and not wanting to wait until the next season to find out the answers diminishes the fandom experience. I cannot stress enough how much we are in the absolute peak of the fandom experience right now. The between seasons time is the ultimate time to be a part of a fandom (as I'm sure many people are well aware), knowing there's another season coming energises everyone to create and connect and speculate and it's glorious! I know it feels like it'll be like this forever, but it won't. Next season is the last and yes, there will be a flurry and uptick of all the energy and excitement once again, and I absolutely believe Good Omens fandom will live on and remain active and thrumming. But there won't be theories and what ifs and hunting for clues for the next season, and over time it will dwindle a little and plateau and some people will fall into other fandoms, and while it will probably bubble away, there won't be the anticipation that sits with us now.

My point is, fandom is where we get to throw around ideas and flail and be ridiculous and also serious sometimes, but it's all for us. For the fans. Showing Neil theories or getting in a flap about a particular speculation and asking if x, y, or z might happen isn't just about putting the creator in an awkward spot, it takes away what fandom is about. Just let this time be ours. If you haven't been in fandom before, enjoy it! Don't be in a hurry to seek definitive answers or know things either way.

It doesn't matter if any or none or all of the things that float around end up being correct or incorrect. Fandom isn't about being right. It's about being a part of a community and being able to share ideas and it's about it being FUN.

So TL;DR Stop sending Neil fan ideas because that is for fandom, not for the creator.

#good omens fandom #good omens #just a little rant #sorry I don't normally get ranty but here we are #I'll get off my soap box now

1K notes · View notes

nutmeggery · 8 months

Text

I need Neil Gaiman to know that Good Omens 2 made me feel emotions I haven't felt in nearly a decade.

When I heard there was going to be a Good Omens 2 I was looking forward to it, of course. I just wasn't expecting it do anything super special to my emotions. I was sure I'd enjoy it, though. I really enjoyed s1.

But, for the last few years, I watched shows and afterwards basically thought well, that was fun, and I quickly moved on and didn't think much about them. There was only about 3 shows in the last 5 years that had made me feel truly emotional and stayed on my mind to the point where I felt like I needed to engage in fandom for a while. (Good Omens 1 was one of them.)

I wasn't spoiled by the leak. I never even knew there was a leak. So I had no idea what was coming in s2. And oh boy...

See, I'd watched Our Flag Means Death, a show where you don't expect the lead characters to kiss, because, well, that never happens in these types of shows, right? And this is important because when they did kiss, it felt like a door that had been locked with just about all the high security locks in the world had suddenly, inexplicably, been opened. Something switched inside me. It took me months to understand what it was, but when I thought about Good Omens before s2 came out, I realized what it was.

I would never truly enjoy a bromance they're-only-queer/in love-by-your-own-interpreation story ever again. Stories where nothing is confirmed, just subtext that anyone who doesn't want to see it can easily deny and mock those who wish it was more.

While it was clear that Crowley and Aziraphale cared a lot about each other in s1, and were probably in love, it was still just a fun ship for fans to play with in fanfiction and fanart. Do they love each other? Oh sure. In what way? Well, that's up to interpretation. Ok, cool. But it's not quite Our Flag Means Death, is it?

Then I watched Good Omens 2. And from episode 1 I saw my favourite Angel and Demon duo love each other. And I was having the best time. I hadn't had such a good time watching a show in a long while. It was not only right up my alley, it was an alley I wasn't even aware was my alley until I saw it. I enjoyed seeing the old characters, the new characters. Oh, I was wonderful.

It was clear to me that, of course Crowley and Aziraphale love each other, are IN love with each other, showing it in their own way. And I wasn't expecting it to be THIS obvious.

And then when the kiss happened, I couldn't believe it. I covered my mouth with both hands and gasped and sat up straight in my seat. I had never expected it--the heartbreak it added to the already heartbreaking scene--it rewired something inside me.

It was like my emotions had been locked up in a stall like a horse for so, so long, and now the gate had been opened, the stable door kicked down, and the horse was running out onto the large pasture into the daylight, bucking and kicking up grass. Oh my god, I have to take a few minutes to process that entire 6 hour marathon of emotions.

And by a few minutes I meant a few days.

More than a few, actually.

I didn't need a kiss to understand how much they loved each other, but I did need the kiss to understand how intense and heartbreaking their separation is for them after everything.

But more than that, the kiss broke a barrier. They really did it, I thought. They really dared.

Aziraphale and Crowley aren't human males, no, but they're played by male actors. And that is significant. That makes the kiss significant. In the world we currently live in.

Weeks later, I'm still obsessed with the show, re-watching s1 and 2, reading the book again, listening to the audio drama. And I'm on tumblr, seeing people's posts and art to somehow sate my hunger for a s3 that doesn't exist (yet).

And I'm having a wonderful time.

#good omens #good omens 2 spoilers #go2 #neil gaiman #im queer and emotional #NEIL LIKED IT?!#asdsdksfksnvkjdnvdkjvd

2K notes · View notes

bewby · 1 year

Text

everyday literally everydayyyy i think about how the way i experience the world will never be as good as i thought it would be. and when i think back to things being "nice" it's nostalgia tricking me 🤣🤣 like it will never actually be good and feel as amazing as i fantasize about it makes me so sad. nothing will ever be as exciting as these made up feelings i have attached to memories. or. media. the real world is literally hell and everyone tells you to just keep going . and i get it. but. why can't things actually feel like they do when i think back to them. in my mind. like all warm and fuzzy . ok whatever i'm gonna eat

#the only times i genuinely felt like i was in a fucking fairytale was when i met my ex kfjxjjj #like i always say this but when we first met it literally was only like 2 hours and we just walked around my city and that was still #the best day of my entire life . bfbdbdbhsshgghkr #in that time. the world Didn't exist to me And when i first saw him it was like a glitch happened mid air like it was. WOW #being in love really is the best thing ever but i wish i could feel that happy outside of romantic relationships too. god this is another #issue i have. like i never find that kind of happiness in friendships #and i mean it makes sense that romance makes you feel More. but. i want to be able to have proper friendships and feel happy in them too #AUGHHHGH maybe one day #i just need people who understand how i can get distanr and easily exhausted bdjdvsvshsv

0 notes

oharaslover · 5 months

Text

cara mia

pairing: miguel o’hara x fem reader

contents: mostly told from miguel’s pov, mentions of religious guilt, somnophilia, soft sex, unprotected p in v, riding somewhat, pregnancy, and a wee bit of angst (muahahah)

author’s note: i did get inspiration from the addams family for this personality wise but i didn’t use the goth elements (sry)

word count: 4k+

Padre nuestro que estás en el cielo, santificado sea tu nombre

The prayer had imprinted itself in Miguel's head after countless hours of being on his knees, forcing himself to pretend that he felt the same type of enlightenment as the other people around him. He envied the people at his church, he wished that he could devote himself and his life to God the same way that they did, but he felt like he was speaking to a brick wall every time he prayed.

The gold cross around his neck felt more like a burden than a symbol of salvation, reminding him of what a failure he'd been to himself and his community. Countless hours of bible study that were supposed to provide him with some hope about humanity, provide him some clarity about his existence and role in the world, only gave him headaches and more questions.

The day that Gabriella was taken away from him, he selfishly prayed in his head that everything would be okay. He knew that it was wrong to pray only when he needed something, but he needed for something to be out of his control for once. "Por favor no te me lleves a mi hija, Diosito. Ella tiene toda su vida por delante. Te lo suplico," he spoke in his mind, hoping that God would listen to him. that he wouldn't lose the only ray of light in his life. (please don’t take my daughter away from me, God. she has her entire life ahead of her. i plead you)

"Please daddy!" Gabriella’s voice clouded his mind as she faded away into nothing, the buildings around them collapsing into pure ash. He cursed God for not listening to him as he fell to the ground on his knees, his head dropped. Silent tears rolled down his cheeks as he looked at his hands, having just the remainder of what was. Peter had rushed to his side, attempting to get him to stand up before the universe faded into nothing but everything inside Miguel hurt. He felt like his limbs were 50 pound weights as he stepped into the portal to go back home, the reminders of his selfishness lingering.

Devotion had never come easy to Miguel, whether it be to an entity or to a thing, but you were the only exception to that rule. He wasn't sure if you'd done it out of sympathy after seeing his weakened state or if you were just simply doing your job as a barista, but you had given him a free bagel with his coffee one day. "I know this probably won't help much, but you look like you need it," you told him once you handed him the small bag and coffee cup.

Miguel didn't answer you, his mouth felt like sandpaper every minute of the day, but he appreciated the small act of kindness you'd shown him. You didn't even have to ask him for his order, making him the cup out of memory. He felt people's stares on him as he walked to one of the tables, their noses scrunching up from his body odor. He hadn't had the energy to come out of his room, but he decided to take the healing journey step by step.

He wasn't sure of when was the last time he took a shower was but he was certain that it must've been a while with the way that everybody scooted their chairs to be further away from him. He brought the cup of coffee to his mouth, taking a sip from it as he tried to will himself to swallow it. The coffee beans tasted like wet mud as they went down his throat, the walls of his throat constricting. He eventually gave up on trying to drink the coffee, placing his head down on the table as he shut his eyes.

The melody in the coffee shop lulled him to sleep after countless hours of staying up, the memories of Gabriella ringing through his head every time he closed his eyes. He wasn't sure of how long he had fallen asleep for, only getting waken up by your soft tapping on his shoulder. "Sorry to interrupt your nap, but we're about to close the shop. You're free to come back tomorrow if you want," you spoke and his head shot up, looking out the window to see that the moon was already peeking out from the clouds.

Miguel stayed quiet, unsure of what to say as he fished something out of his pocket as a way to make it up to you. "No, no. Don't worry about it," you tried to dismiss the bill he was handing you, but he was even more stubborn than you were. You ended up accepting the bill a couple seconds later and he left the coffee shop, feeling like a ship lost at bay. He didn't have anywhere else to call home after he lost Gabriella and his apartment felt too empty. Too quiet. He decided to head back to the HQ, burying his face in work until his exhaustion took place of the pain.

A couple days had passed by when he heard a knock on his office door, Jessica appearing in the doorway. "Miguel, we're worried about you. You haven't exited your office in days and you.. stink. Just take a shower, please," she told him, approaching him the way that one would to a child. The thought of showering just made Miguel want to curl up and burst out crying since the last time he showered was a few moments prior to Gabriella’s last embrace. If he tried hard enough, he could still smell her bubble soap on his clothes.

It took Miguel a while to get into the shower and even longer to scrub his body, his skin raw from how hard he'd tried to make the memories fade away. He sat on the shower floor for a couple minutes with his hands buried in his hands, willing himself not to let his tears combine with the running water. He got up on shaky legs, gripping the shower wall as he let the water run through his reddened skin. His talons unsheathed and he looked down at them, wanting to claw at himself until nothing was left.

Jessica had convinced Miguel to go back to the coffee shop after she saw him fawning over your public file, convincing him to try to have a conversation with you. He showed up to the coffee shop the next day, a complete stranger from the man that showed up just a week beforehand. He'd taken a shower and he fixed his unruly curls a bit, wearing a button down shirt and jeans. As always, you made his order without him needing to say much but he found himself wanting to talk to you this time around.

"Hi, I'm sorry if this is coming off as weird seeing how you found me sleeping on one of the tables earlier and you saw me in that state, but I was wondering if you'd like to go out sometime? I’d like to get to know you better if you gave me the opportunity," he said as he came up to the counter once your shift ended, expecting to be found with rejection. "That sounds good. I'll give you my number and you can text me when it works for you," you responded, scribbling down your number on a napkin.

The encounter between the two of you led to more dates and eventually to the two of you getting married a year later. He found himself completely captured by the way you carried yourself around, willing to give you the world if you asked. He'd be willing to lower down the moon at your request, if only to see the smile on your face. But what he loved the most was the fact that you didn't ask him for the moon, you simply asked for his love in exchange for yours. Loving you felt so simple to him, something as easy as taking a breath.

Miguel glanced over at the clock on the bedside table, letting out a small groan as he looked down at the tent in his sleep pants. He knew he couldn't control himself around you, just having you around made his cock twitch, but he'd never will himself to be too far from you. He glanced back at your sleeping form, seeing the way that your sleep gown bunched up around your thighs. He saw your glistening cunt through the small crack of sunlight peeking through the window, his willpower breaking down.

He spread your legs gently, pushing your nightgown up to your stomach as he pushed his cock in. Your tight walls engulfed him instantly and he had to resist letting out a moan so as to not wake you. Your pussy was practically gushing around his cock as he bottomed out, sucking him deeper. He slowly retracted his cock before pushing it back inside, watching as you stirred in your sleep. His hand came up to your breast, cupping it through the lace material of your gown. He leaned in, sucking your nipple through the material as his tongue rolled over the nub.

His hips rolled slowly as he gripped your thighs for some kind of balance, making sure that you weren't stirring too much in your sleep. While he had a desire to satiate, he'd never be that selfish to wake you up in order to fulfill his needs. "You're all wet for me even in your dreams, corazón," he murmured, his talons drawing small lazy circles on your thighs. He brought his hands up to your front, punching and pulling at your nipples while his cock pushed in and out of you.

"Morning Miguel, did you sleep good?" You asked him, tilting your head to the side to look at him with a small smile on your face. "Cada dia que me despierto siendo tu marido es bueno para mi, cara mia. I'm sorry for waking you up," he responded, his cheeks burning a bit at the prospect of bothering you. God, he'd never be able to get enough of you at this point. Even with the darkened curtains, a slimmer of light managed to peel through as it illuminated your face in an almost angelic halo. (every day that i wake up as your husband is good for me, my darling)

"What's got you all needy, Miguelito?" You inquired, rolling over on top of him as your night gown flowed over your legs. "You, it's always you," he whispered, his hands coming up to your breasts as you slowly sunk onto his cock. You let out a small groan as you felt your wetness dripping onto your thighs and his, the access proving to be much easier. You slowly moved up and down his cock, your tight walls engulfing around him without any remorse. He thought he could die happy like this, engulfed by you and the love combined between you two.

His hips moved upwards, assisting you with the rhythm as he sat up straight, his mouth attaching itself to your neck. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he slowly began to place small bites on your collarbone and shoulders, marking you as his. With every mark that he left on your skin, it felt like he was tattooing yourself into your life. Making himself known even if he wasn't present. The pace between the two of you wasn't rushed or rough, it was simply just enjoying the company of each other and being in each other's arms.

"I've been thinking about getting you pregnant, cara mia. Think about how lovely our kids would be, just a reflection of the devotion I feel for you," he murmured into your skin, his fangs gently grazing against your neck. "Get me pregnant, Miguel. I want everybody to look at us and just see how in love we are," you responded, your walls clenching around his cock just as a security measure. His thrusts got sloppier as he approached his orgasm, his fingers coming down to your clit to help you through yours. His mouth was swirling around your nipples, licking and sucking at the hardened breast while his other hand played with your other one.

Your orgasm approached you rather quickly, your back arching as your breath hitched from the intensity. Your deep breaths filled the room as Miguel's hips moved into you, fucking you through your orgasm and his. He came a couple seconds after you, the tip of his cock pushing the cum into your cervix just to make sure it would take. You rolled over to your side, your arms still wrapped around Miguel's neck as the two of you started to come down from that euphoria. His fingers stroked small circles on your back as his mouth came down to press a kiss on your forehead.

You ended up taking a shower after that, though the two of you didn't like to have sex in there since it could get slippery quick. That didn't stop Miguel from lathering soap all over your body, his hands massaging your breasts, thighs, and the globes of your ass. He gestured for you to jump and you wrapped your legs around his waist as he pinned you to the wall, his lips attacking everywhere he hadn't gotten the chance to earlier.

"I just wanna appreciate you like the work of art you are but you make it so hard when you look at me like that," he told you, leaving a bite on top of your breasts as his eyes locked on you. "Like what?" You looked over at him with doe eyes, your lashes fluttering with the water hitting them. He let out a small chuckle, turning off the water faucet before he carried you out the shower. "Miguel, you're making a mess!" You exclaimed in between little giggles as you held onto him. "Apologies," he offered, wrapping you up in a towel like a burrito without paying much regard to his own dripping stature.

As the two of you got out of your shared shower, LYLA appeared in front of Miguel making him let out a small grumble. "Good morning! You need to be in HQ at approximately ten in order to get all your paperwork done," she announced, her voice chirpy as she spoke. "Tell them I'm dead," he muttered, waving LYLA away as he pressed kisses on your shoulder. "While I would love to do that, you used that excuse about two weeks ago," LYLA responded, her eyes narrowing as she looked at Miguel.

Miguel let out a small scoff as he buried his face into your neck, his large hands splayed on your stomach. "Then tell them I'm spending time with my wife today. You're in charge," he told her, shooing her off for the last time before he gave you the opportunity to finish up getting moisturized. "I wouldn't recommend getting dressed, cariño. You won't be needing clothes today," he told you as you stepped back into the bedroom, beckoning you back into the bed.

The day was spent having lazy sex on almost every corner of the house, determination evident in his features to have his sperm take. He had his way with you on the bed, in front of the mirror that was in the bathroom, the kitchen counter while you two were waiting for lunch, and the couch when you put on a show for some background noise.

"Every time I think I can't love you more, you just prove me wrong," he whispered into your ear as he stroked your back lazily, his softening cock warming up your cunt. The love he felt towards you seemed to practically seep out his pores with the way that he treated you. "Becoming your wife has been one of the greatest experiences ever. Thank you for allowing me to love you, Miguel," you murmured, your hand lazily running through his curls.

A couple of weeks passed by when you came to the realization that you'd missed your period for the last month and the food that normally had you salivating was making you gag at just the mere sight of it. You hadn't been expecting for the sperm to take so easily after your previous doctors had described a problem with your uterus, but you couldn't help but feel excited at the prospect of having a child with Miguel. You stopped by the drugstore near your house, getting a few pregnancy tests just in case.

You practically gulped the bottle of water you'd taken with you to the bathroom, waiting until you felt that urge. It took a couple minutes before you were ready to pee on the tests, and it would take even longer for the results to come out. You washed your hands and looked up at the mirror, picturing yourself swollen with the product of you and Miguel's adoration inside. The timer on your phone made you jump after being in your head for ten minutes, turning it off before you looked at the results. Pregnant.

You decided to go surprise Miguel at HQ since you felt like you were practically bursting out with excitement and you didn't trust yourself to keep it a secret for too long. It took you a while to arrive since it's in the middle of Nueva York and it was lunch hour, but even the stench of the subway couldn't deter your happiness. You were instantly greeted with smiles as you walked into the HQ, most of the members being people you recognized. You took the opportunity to go pet the cat and greet Lego Spider-Man before heading up to Miguel's office.

"¡Hijos de su puta madre! How many shocking times do I have to say that you don't free the anomalies to even out your little basketball team?!" Miguel's voice boomed from his office, clear to your ears outside. You knocked on the door before stepping in, seeing Miguel's demeanor completely change as he looked at you. "Just go, we'll finish this later," he told the group of teenagers and they all scattered away quickly.

You walked up to Miguel, wrapping your arms around his neck as you let out a small chuckle. "You shouldn't be so hard on them, you know? It's not good for your stress levels either," you whispered, kissing his cheek. “I know, mi vida. But they just make it so hard not to get pissed off," he mumbled, resting his head on the crook of your neck. "Well you're gonna have to control that because soon enough, you'll have a little one that needs their daddy for a long time," you responded, dropping the subtle hint and his head shot up immediately.

"You're not messing around with me or anything right?" He asked, his hands around your waist as he looked down at you. You took the ziploc baggie holding the pregnancy test inside, handing it over to him. "Ay mi amor. You don't know how happy it makes me to be able to have a kid with you," he spoke, littering small kisses on your face as he held you close to him. He took a couple minutes to allow for you to enjoy the news before he started going into an overprotective mode, finding the best ob-gyn nearby.

Though Miguel had multiple responsibilities towards the multiverse and to maintaining the safety of the city, he still accompanied you to the first appointment. "You know we'll have plenty of these, so you don't need to come," you told him, but he shook his head as he opened the door for you at the clinic. "I refuse to miss out on anything important, mi amor. The multiverse will hopefully still be intact while I get back," he responded, guiding you towards one of the chairs.

Your eyes drifted to the women sitting in the lobby, some of them distraught with the news of what's growing inside of them while others were crying out of joy. What you couldn't help but notice though, was that most of them were alone as they waited. You'd never felt so appreciative towards Miguel than in this moment and you couldn't help the tears that began coating your eyes.

"What's wrong?" Miguel asked, immediately concerned as he looked at you. "I just feel so lucky being here with you, I'm sorry. It's funny, I got scared when this whole thing happened, since y'know, we have no idea how to be parents but just having you by my side is gonna make this okay," you rambled, wiping away at the tears rolling down your cheeks.

He kissed your forehead as he held your hand, waiting for your name to be called. "Do you want me to come in?" He asked before you nodded, walking with him to the room. He held your hand throughout the whole process while the doctor basically went through some of the dangers you'd possibly be going through with this pregnancy. The baby seemed to be growing fine, though, the size of a raspberry at this stage.

You had quit your job at the coffee shop a little while after getting married to Miguel, so having time to rest wasn't too big of an issue for you. You'd busied yourself with attempting to knit clothes for the baby, your fingers covered with small indents from the needle. "You don't have to do that, you know we have more than enough money to buy baby clothes," he assured you when he saw you crying after a onesie ended up with only one foot sleeve. You eventually got better at it as the time went by, the onesies even having small designs on them.

Though the next nine months hadn't been a walk in the park, they were all the more tolerable having Miguel by your side. He didn't care if you had to wake up at 4 in the morning to satiate your cravings for pickles, even joining you sometimes. He didn't mind carrying you around the house when your ankles felt too swollen to even stand on. He just loved seeing you practically glowing with his love, the pregnancy making you look all the more gorgeous no matter what you said.

The birth was supposed to be an easy process but Miguel could feel that something was wrong as he waited in the lobby with the other expecting fathers. The nurses came over to him, giving him the grim news that you were hemorrhaging but assuring him that they were doing everything in their power. Their words eventually became garbled as a white noise ran through his mind, a pain that he could feel in his soul at the thought of being without you coating his body completely.

Miguel dropped to his knees at the small chapel in the hospital that night, all the different prayers melting into one as he tried to get the words out. His knees were scraped raw as they rubbed against the cold concrete, a well fitting punishment in his opinion for his time apart from the church. He clamped the cross around his neck, holding it as a safe haven before he pressed his hands together, starting with a prayer the best way he knew how.

He started off by thanking God for everything he'd given him, even if he felt like nothing was worth thanking for at the moment. He pushed the feelings of betrayal deep down, knowing that they were completely unprecedented as a non-practicing Catholic. Later, he prayed for you. Not for himself, no. But for you, to get better so you could continue to bless his life with your presence and bless the life of your child together. He continued with this viscous cycle of praying until the sun came up, talking to the plastic cross in a hospital chapel.

The baby was discharged a few days later and while Miguel had everything to take care of it, he felt unprepared. As Miguel held the sleeping baby in his arms, he felt like a part of him was ripped out at your absence. The baby proved as a symbol of his love and devotion for you, though. He tried to be strong for the baby, he really did, but his emotions were starting to bubble up in the bottle he'd stuffed them in. He set the baby down in its crib, looking over at your collection of dresses in the closet as he brought them to his nose, your perfume hitting him instantly. He knew that you were in the hospital recovering, but his heart ached to feel your warmth, laughter, and love again.

The corners of his eyes prickled with salty, warm tears as he cut away the petals from the roses you'd ordered just a week ago. His nose was running from his allergies, but he refused to ask for help with such a mundane task. He refused to let your presence from the home fade out, taking care of everything you would've done along with his own responsibilities. He sat down on the edge of the bed, starting to comply with what he'd told God while he was in the hospital. That he'd start praying again as long as you were okay. He’d be willing to put himself through the process of talking to what he deemed as a wall just for you.

1K notes · View notes

anonymouscheeses · 2 months

Text

Even more and more of obvious shit I point out because I want an excuse to rant while not interacting with actual people in real life who also like this show because I'm masking 😍💜💜

BARELY STARTED AND BRO. YOU JUST LET HER DO THAT TO YOU, ME PERSONALLY-

HE'S PETTING KEE-KEE I LOVE HIM SMM

HER HOOVES. I LOVE IT. NOT LIKE THAT, IM JUST A FURRY-

*grabs pen*

ANGRY CHARLIE FOR THE WIN. I LOVE WHEN THE HAPPY CHARACTER GETS ANGSTY (Cough. Luz. Cough).

The people writing fanfics where she gets FURIOUS. Omg. That was something I read. I LOVE MY FELLOW FANFIC WRITERS BUT OH MY- YALL REALLY HAD CHARLIE M A D.

"Uh-"

I love his reaction lmao look at his goofy face.

HER BOW BECAME HORNS (my "redesign" is now 100% worse)

SAD VAGGIE. THE BOW. DROOPY.

Oh and the angel dust fellow back there 🤯

I LOVE ROSIE SO MUCH HUH

Tall.

No explanation needed. <3

PLEASE HELP???

CUTIE PATOOTIE. I LOVE HER SM UGGHHH

CHARLIE HATES OLD PEOPLE COMFIRMED YAY 😍😍💅💅

Hot

That's it.

IN SYNC. I LOVE THIS SONG AND THE ENTIRE SCENE. WHY IS IT RANKED SO LOW WITH SOME OF YALL?? Okay well-

I thought this song was gonna be a Charlie and Vaggie duet- tbh I still preferred that BUT I LOVE CARMILLA SO I KINDA DONT CARE.

BUT I WAS ROBBED OF AN ACTUAL FULL CHAGGIE DUET (REPRISE DOESNT COUNT) IF H*SKERDUST GETS A FULL ONE WHY CAN'T CHAGGIE? *SOB* uhh anyway-

Is that. Like. How she thinks actually 😰

I know there's been a lot of the lack of Vaggie's self-worth, which I wish was explored into more. I just think the Vaggie(3rd) episode just wasn't needed at all if it didn't even have an impact. Don't get me started on that episode, it was rushed, too early to have character arcs already, and overall not needed or even should have existed periodt.

I hope they explore it next season because GOD this woman needs TO LOVE HERSELF. OR ATLEAST CARE ABOUT HERSELF LIKE????

SWEET MAMA PLEASE. TAKE ME IN YOUR WINGS AAAAAAAAA

Charlie, sharing is caring <3

Out of all the people I thought Charlie would vent to I didn't think it would be ROSIE. It's a nice surprise tho I love her <3

bisexuality.

That's it.

HE'S DANCING. ALASTOR IS DANCING. THEY ARE SLAYING BESTIES. THE MAN IS DANCING. HELP.

Season 2 is going to be Charlie in her villain era and Alastor's reputation era ��

I LOVE VAGGIE'S FACE. PRECIOUS BABY UGHH... THEN THE WINGS REPLACE THE BOW AND DROOP UGGHH I HOPE IN SEASON 2 WE SEE MORE OF HER WINGS. OR CUT HER HAIR SHORT SO WE CAN HAVE IT ALL THE TIME. Also so Husk and Vaggie can bond over both having wings. Sorry I love their potential friendship so much. AND LUCIFER AND VAGGIE TOO!! BOTH BEING FALLEN ANGELS OMG. UGH THE POTENTIAL OF VAGGIE'S RELATIONSHIPS WITH NOT JUST CHARLIE ARE SO GOOD AND I HAVE BEEN ROBBED OF SEEING HER AS AN ACTUALLY MORE FLESHED OUT CHARACTER. I AM SCREAMING AAAAAAAA.

I can't say how much I love them. It's too much. I cant- yay the teaser image before the show came out <3 they are so fucking adorable. UGH SOME1 END ME

Charlie loves the wings hehehe. Vaggie looks nervous about it. It's probably a reminder to her about when she used to be an exterminator. The healing from everything will take a long time but hopefully Charlie will be there for her the entire time. And vice versa

Ayo- 😰

CHARLIE. T H E PRECIOUS BABY.

Uh next one tomorrow cuz yeah 🤯

#hazbin hotel charlie #hazbin hotel vaggie #hazbin charlie #hazbin vaggie #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel sir pentious #hazbin angel dust #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin hotel angel dust #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel niffty #chaggie #rainbowmoth #varlie #vaggie x charlie #charlie x vaggie #charlie morningstar #vaggatha

952 notes · View notes

monicahar · 1 year

Text

reminiscence.

fem! reader, scara and nahida would act like siblings change my mind, includes sumeru archon quest spoilers!

“would you mind telling me more about [name]?”

scaramouche had to make sure he was hearing things correctly.

“excuse me?”

“[name]. i want to know more about her.”

the tiny god of wisdom gently rocks back and forth on her makeshift swing created by her control over dendro—watching over the city of sumeru with soft eyes whilst the former harbinger stares daggers onto the back of her head.

a sigh escapes the man's lips from behind her, a telltale sign of his incoming exasperation, “you read my mind without my permission again? i remember clearly telling you to cut it out, didn't i?” his annoyance doesn't come unnoticed by the observant child.

“it was quite improper of me to do so, but i'm the god of wisdom. i actively seek out knowledge, and such—i couldn't resist the temptation of peering onto a mind as eccentric as yours.” her tone remains understanding of his irritation, yet all the more wise in explaining her unwarranted prying.

the dark-haired male behind her hums, leaning back onto the tree as he shuts his eyes closed, seemingly given up on voicing his displeasure towards the archon.

“tell me what you know so i'll know where to start.”

his immediate compliance makes the curious child turn her head his way, staring at him with wide eyes.

“you...” nahida trails off as she smiles in relief, quickly reminding herself to not comment on his chosen act of opening up as he might get impatient and dismiss the subject altogether.

the distant chatter of her people down at the city successfully averts her attention from him, her eyes now gazing down at a certain blonde traveller stopping by to buy some supplies for their next adventure.

“you were dreaming of her during your slumber. she's...the fourth betrayal you encountered, correct?” nahida knows that you were anything but a betrayal, but she has to bend her words to his whims for now as to avoid a temper tantrum.

scaramouche hums in response.

“out of all the companions you've trusted, you seemed to cling onto your memories of her the most. why is that?”

“if you've read my mind, then i'm sure you already know why.”

“you're not gonna deny it?” the lesser lord cranes her neck to look at him over her shoulder, brows raised questioningly at his statement. “that you were in love, romantically?” she had carefully formed the question to give him the freedom of denying it just in case he wasn't ready to face his past just yet, but this situation was clearly something she didn't expect.

the male remains resting against the tree behind him, uncaring of the child's rather surprised gaze as his eyes stay shut. “if there's one thing you taught me while being under your care, it has to be acceptance.” he feels his anemo vision thrum to life by his chest, but he pays no mind to it as he continues, “i have nothing to lose now, so I might as well stop lying to myself to give my existence some type of meaning.”

nahida can't help the softening of her eyes towards the male, her smile widening by a fraction before she returns her gaze towards the city below her. if anything, that's probably his way of thanking her. it's a pretty roundabout way considering the better alternatives, but it managed to get the message across, didn't it?

she sighs in content, “that's essentially all I know about her. once again, would you mind telling me how she was like?”

you would probably pass out if you found out that the god of wisdom wishes to know more about you.

the ends of his lips twitch upwards for a moment as he thinks back on the memories he held dearly of you;

ranging from the embarrassing and funny moments you two shared like that one time you accidentally mistook him as a girl due to how graceful and fair his skin and face was, or up to the more intimate moments—like watching the narukami festival unfold along with its blooming fireworks from the mountain peaks of tatarasuna...

...and that one time he finally let your desires free and bared himself for you to touch—his first time.

he feels his cheeks burn at the thought, crossing his arms with a huff as if to breathe out the sinful thoughts.

now that he was free from the shackles of burdens and hatred, everything he experienced with you no longer seemed to be as bitter and disgusting to recall—unlike the times before where he'd have occasional dreams of you back in the fatui, the pettiness in his nerves as he calls it a nightmare that reminds him of how naïve and weak he was back then.

he returns to the matter at hand with a new sense of clarity—now what was he supposed to say again?

right. he was supposed to tell nahida about you.

he can't believe he's still blushing over you after all these centuries.

lifting his eyelids, the first thing he catches in his eyesight was nahida's knowing smile—directed right at him as she stays still on her swing.

why is she—?

oh.

making haste with his movements, he quickly lifts his hand to pull down his hat over his face, only to discover he wasn't wearing his hat at the moment—so pathetically enough, he opts to cover his face with a hand, shyly hiding his face from the grinning archon as he looks away with reddened cheeks and ears.

he got too carried away while reminiscing, it seems.

“i see...so you're still very much in love with her, hm?” nahida speaks up with a teasing tilt to her voice, relishing in this rare moment of the male's lowered guard, “not like i blame you. she was really pretty in your dreams, and probably even prettier in person.”

“shut up. do you want me to continue or not?”

with a quick apology amidst her fit of giggles, she nods, looking away once again from the eccentric wanderer to give him the privacy he deserves.

“sorry, sorry. now you may start.”

her curiousity is piqued. just how much of an impact did you make to cause the male to make such interesting reactions?

she's about to find out now, it seems.

might make part two idk

#scaramouche x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin drabbles #wanderer x reader #har❗fiction #nahida #genshin impact fanfic

7K notes · View notes

flametrashira · 7 months

Note

Hi! Is your requests open? If they are, can I request something for muzan?

Sfw!

Pls

Prompt: an upper moon meeting is happening and such, and everything is going.. “smoothly”.. and then all of a sudden a loud angry yell comes, shouting Muzans name, first and last. And out comes his sweet heart wife that would never hurt anything or anyone- (the upper moons have either met her or not(Your choice!)) and she’s just going off on him, angry about something, and everyone just expecting muzan to not give a fuck but muzan ends up trying to calm his wife and saying: “this will never happen again I swear”/“I’m so sorry!”/“I promise I’ll remember!” And such—

I’d be baffled honestly-

You can choose the ending! Just a thought!

Have a great day!

Aww this is such a cute idea and I'm so into the thought of Muzan being completely whipped by his human wife. However, he is still Muzan so... he's still a bastard.

CW for language and mentions of eating people.

Muzan was livid. His jaw clenched and his back teeth ached from being so tightly pressed together. "Why do I permit your continued existence if your only purpose is to disappoint me?"

The upper moons bickered back and forth over whose fault it was that the Ubuyashiki family yet lived, and that the blue spider lily's location remained a mystery.

Hantengu shrieked in fear and begged for his life.

"I have no excuses to make," Kokushibo murmured, hanging his head low in shame. "Ubuyashiki is hiding... skillfully."

The fool, Douma pouted. Though a master at masking, he couldn't quite suppress his smile. "I'm no good at detective work, so what can I do?"

The demon king's blood boiled. Oh, how he would love to be rid of these worthless wretches once and for all. What he wouldn't give to dispose of them as easily as he had the lower moons. "You are all—"

"MUZAN KIBUTSUJI!!"

Your voice cut through the air, sharper and more terrifying than any nichirin blade. A chill ran down Muzan's spine. For you to use that tone of voice... Gods...

Hantengu shrieked again at the sound of Muzan's full name. Douma gasped gleefully, expecting a bloodbath. But you weren't a demon, you were his wife and free to address him however you pleased. And it was a power you wielded efficiently in times like this.

You were sweet and soft, his pretty human wife, his only comfort and solace in the midst of all this disappointment. He had no idea what he could have done to upset you but his blood ran cold.

"Hiiii!" Douma waved as you approached.

"Don't even fucking think about it," Muzan hissed at the second upper moon before turning to face you with a sweet smile. "Yes, my lily?"

"What the hell is this?" you held up a newspaper and jabbed your finger at a column begging for help in the ongoing search for a missing man... a loving and devoted husband named Tsukihiko.

Shit.

"Ah... my love," he went to place a hand on your shoulder, but you pulled away. "I-I have no idea..."

You arched an eyebrow and turned the page to the second part of the article... which included a photo of Muzan disguised as a human, alongside his fake wife Rei and her little daughter.

"Let me guess," you asked, rolling the newspaper into a tube as though you planned to smack him on the nose with it. "You have a human doppelganger?"

"I... no... that's me."

"And you're missing. You told me you'd given her closure. You swore to me that you'd treat Rei kindly. But you just ran away again and let her think you were dead, didn't you? It says here you put them in a cab and told them you would be home after you had finished your business in Tokyo. But you never returned."

Muzan glanced down at the upper moons, who were watching with great interest. How he wished the ground would swallow him whole. He'd lived for a thousand years, committed atrocities beyond human comprehension, and yet seeing the disappointment on your sweet face was more than he could bear.

You continued your chastisement. "I bet she's worried sick... and the child... Gods, Muzan. I should write to her. I'll tell her you found someone new and she should move on. Could that work?"

He didn't dare admit the whole truth: that particular tie to his mortal disguise had been tied up. Quite securely, in fact. The newspaper was a few days old. Rei and her daughter weren't around to search for him anymore. The case would soon grow cold.

"That won't be necessary, my d—"

"Oh... Muzan..." There was a new level of disappointment in your voice now, one which made his heart sink. "You didn't eat them did you?"

Fuck.

How did you know him so well? You always knew just how to read him, how to make him sweat. But you also knew how to please him, how to make him feel loved and wanted for himself for the first time in a millennia. So he didn't mind the talking to, as uncomfortable as it was. "N-no..."

You turned to Nakime, who was watching the scene from a platform above, tapping nervously on the head of her biwa. "Nakime, if she's still alive, send me to this woman's home. I need to talk to he—"

"I did it!" a cheerful voice called from below. Douma stood, sheepishly rocking on his heels. "I ate her. I'm sorry. I saw the newspaper article and she just looked so sweet, and you know how much I enjoy the taste of pretty ladies..."

Muzan was rendered still and silent. He didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Your pretty eyes turned to him and he did the only thing he could think to do... he shrugged and lied. "I was about to punish him when you walked in."

"Oh..." You looked down sheepishly, twisting the rolled up newspaper between your hands. "Douma..."

"My bad!" he called up with a nervous giggle. "I just couldn't help myself. It's my nature, you know. A man's gotta eat!"

You nodded and turned back to Muzan, the look of regret and tenderness in your eyes almost enough to bring him to his knees. "I'm sorry, my love. I should have trusted you."

"It's alright." He reached down and tenderly cupped your face, kissing the tip of your nose to make you smile. "Run along now, and I'll find you in a little while, okay? We'll spend some time together."

"Okay," you gazed into his carmine eyes and smiled. "I love you Mumu-bear."

He glanced down at the upper moons, who seemed to have lost interest now that the conflict was over. Either that or they were very effective at feigning disinterest. It didn't matter. Let them know you called him Mumu-bear. He'd tear their heads off if they so much as snickered. "I love you too."

As you hurried back toward your wing of the infinity fortress, he pushed out a breath and raked his fingers through his curls, casting a look down at Douma. "I owe you one."

#muzan #muzan kibutsuji x reader #kny muzan #muzan kibutsuji #kibutsuji muzan #demon slayer muzan #muzan x reader #kimetsu no yaiba muzan

1K notes · View notes

hyhkai · 2 months

Text

k.taehyun — dangerous woman!

[ 📚 ] after accidentally eavesdropping taehyun talking with his friends, you've got a question unanswered, a question which is straight up hilarious because it shouldn't be asked in the first place.

content : plot sprinkles, dom!reader sub!tyun, taehyun goes around calling the reader his wife/girlfriend, 'taehyun likes smart girls' agenda, public (in the empty auditorium), blowjob, degradation (m. rec.), making tyun swallow his own cum hah

a/n ; NEEDS TO BE EDITED! idk why I named it dangerous woman for angie and smiles txt birthday event + technically written off of my this thought but it doesn't appear in the limelight as brightly. though i still abide by it and always will. i have no clue how auditoriums look in your guys' vision but 🙏

"what're you even trying to do? makeout with me?" he asked as you pulled him aside from the piled hallway and led him to the top floor.

"trust me," you looked back at him, agony filled eyes. "kissing you is the last mistake I want to make, and I make a lot of mistakes."

he chuckled, god, he chuckled. he has some guts. "if you've started to make mistakes, then I'm a failure, noona."

he's always been like this. you wondered if he had some borderline obsession with you. which, now that you've found out the shit he's been going around blabbering — he definitely is obsessed with you.

almost throwing the two of you into the auditorium when you spotted a council member; you shut the door behind yourself as you stared at him, pulling his backpack onto his shoulder. "I'm actually starting to think you want to kiss me. it could've been in the cafeteria, no? why hide like we're middle schoolers?"

you shook your head no. "i already told you, I'd never kiss a dumb dog like you."

"then what are we here for?"

"why are you telling your friends I'm your girlfriend?"

silence. for about a minute. or two.

"i didn't." he said, turning back and walking to one of the chairs, sitting on the one at the corner. he's seriously planning to pretend, that he didn't go around saying you both fuck everyday.

"I don't like liars." you mumbled, walking behind him and letting yourself fall onto the chair right beside him, knees buckling. "what kind of a lie is this? we both are stuck in a loop of arguments and flirting. what makes you want to go around saying I'm your girlfriend?"

"I felt like it." he said dryly, eyes cast down at his fingers as they fidgeted.

"felt like it? you—" you closed your eyes in annoyance, nostrils flaring as your neck turned to look at him. "you felt like telling everyone that I'm your girlfriend? me of all people?" you hissed, he's such a bitch. fucking asshole.

it takes the average human being to start dating after 1-3 months of knowing each other, but it took taehyun one month to walk you down the aisle in his puerile dreams.

"well, why not you?" he asked, looking down at your fingers that were sprinkled with ink. you'd never dated any of the guys around here — because they're such bitches. what about the one in front of you? very evident.

"because I'm never going to really date you!" you almost yelled, lowering your noise when you heard your voice hit the walls of the empty auditorium.

"okay whatever, what're you gonna do about it?" he huffed out, his arms escaping the straps of his backpack.

motherfucker.

you looked away, this boy was making you so demented. you wished you were corrosive and could just touch him and destroy his entire existence in the moment.

and that's when it hit you. your touch... could destroy him. hell, it could probably make him dumb, to say the very least. you looked back to see taehyun, sitting there, staring at you with big big eyes, looking like he's going to swallow you whole.

"what?" you tore the silence apart, taehyun fluttering his eyelashes as he eyed you. the boy is still checking you out. "have some goddamn decency."

"I can't." he said, leaning in, leaning in close so close you wanted to flick his forehead and slap him across the face. he's always been like this for you since the day you put him in his place. he's been like a damn dog, like he wanted to be walked around by you since that day.

"then learn how to!"

"teach me, noona."

and so you did. so you did. and he's going to learn. he's going to learn to never annoy you again.

"noona—"

his eyes widened when your hand went straight for his crotch. fuck. you placed your hand on his cock, in the corner of the auditorium, after school hours.

"shut up. this is what you wanted, didn't you? you're filthy." and he, an exuberant kitten had turned into a lethargic dog. a dumb dog. "you're welcome for this. you're welcome."

"you— you-. what are you even thinking?" he asked, eyes wide as he leaned back, growing motionless. well, one thing was definitely in motion.

"shut the fuck up." you rubbed the tent in his pants as it eventually grew — still no consent of his, but his expression and activities history doesn't seem to be convincing you that he'll say no. you grabbed his face, making him look at you after his eyes had set down onto your hand on his dick. "tell me, taehyun. do you think from your dick or something?"

"y-you can't ask a question like— that.. h-hah." he groaned, a pretend exasperated tone when he was clearly enjoying this. he looked... desperate. it was scaring and making you want to fuck him at the same time. "please, noona."

"please what? use your words, bitch." you said, finger twirling the zipper of jeans, or more like a synonym for a cock cage.

"what're you gonna do?" he asked, eyes shooting around the hall as his knees buckled up, trying to squirm your hand away. this felt so emasculating to him — that you just basically palmed his dick from above the denim.

you were everything he wasn't — smart, perfect and untainted. but you were everything he wanted.

"maybe suck your dick," you said and the statement was definitely sent as an electric signal to his dick and his brain. "give you a reason to go around saying absolute bullshit, hm?" and he closed his eyes shut. his head fell back on the back rest as you unzipped his jeans, letting out a sadistic chuckle. "aw, is the delusion wearing off?" placing a hand under his chin and tilting his head to your side. oh lord, he was blushing. his ears were heating up and his cheeks went pink. "n-not bullshit.. not—"

"shut up." you attempted at a slap but only smacked his jaw, making his head turn away. lightly squeezed to his dick through the Calvin Klein and he whimpered. rubbing the tip with your nails.

if someone asked you if your panties were dry you'd have to deny it. his condition only got more tortured and jittery, you were chuckling like watching a stand-up comedy. you got up from the seat, kneeling in front of him. "h-hah, noona. shit— pl-please."

a malevolent expression, you took his dick out, cockhead lathered in precum — manwhore !

"you like this?" you asked, placing your hand in front of his mouth. "spit, whore." and he did, so fast like he was already preparing to, preparing to be sucked and jerked off.

"mmm, noona, i— h-hah." taehyun scrunched his knees together when your hand twisted at the tip, going down on his dick and his eyes shot open. "i l-love- this."

"of course you do, slut." you mumbled, licking the underpart of his tip, looking up at him as his hands reached to the back of your head to push you down on it unprovoked. he has the audacity to try to fuck your mouth. but no, you slapped his hand away. "behind your back."

he arched his back in sole pleasure, hands behind him now, he let out short, rapid pants. you opened your mouth wide, making him assume you'll finally take his dick, only to start pumping his dick rapidly.

"shit— shit, shit. noona no—"

"take it." you cut him off, using both hands, twisting. your lips set on the edge of his tip, rubbing against it. his brain was vacuous; and it got worse when you held the base of his dick and swallowed him whole.

"oh fuck, oh fuck fuck fuck." he whispered as you glide your hand up his hoodie, staying at his abs making him suck his stomach in. shook your head, the friction too much for him to bear. "noona, noona please."

pulling away, strings of saliva connecting you to his dick as his head flung back, closing his eyes shut when your nails slid up and down.

"keep it down, my god. the president might just hear you, would you want to be seen getting your cock sucked by me?"

his nails of each hand were digging into each other, his jaw clenching. "it— it'll make for a good s-sight."

"'m so close, pleasepleaseplease." he groaned as you completely stopped even the slightest of fuckery he was receiving from his imaginative slut. "no!"

you giggled at the sight — brain-dead taehyun, with his hands behind his back that were desperate to come forward and get him to cum, his embarrassing, dumbfounded state. a slap to his dick and he thrust into the air.

he could fuck any object that moves right now.

"you just love having your cock shoved down throats, don't you?"

hollowing your cheeks around him, the pleasure too much for him to bear. his hands escaped from behind and almost reached for your head but stopped mid-way, balling into a fist as his brain began jarring.

"noona please please please I'm gonna—" and before he could even warn you, prevent your annoyance and the malice you might have, he spilled into your mouth. and to his surprise, you kept his tip in your mouth, tasting him.

"noona?"

a pretend swallow that made his brain cloudy, did you just swallow his cum?

you got up, his eyes tracking up as you leaned down and pulled him by the collar of his hoodie, clashing your lips onto his and his mind skipped a function or two. you seeped his cum into his mouth, wiping your hands on his chest and he did not give the reaction you expected, the reaction you wanted him to give you — instead, to your surprise, he kissed back, his hand slipping up to catch yours. he didn't expect this at all but the whore didn't give a fuck. you pulled away, displeased that he wasn't mad you just made him eat his own cum.

"you ain't my boyfriend." you hissed, picking your backpack up.

and he was all gone to hell, no place for him in heaven, staring at the high ceiling, panting, beatific.