#im so fucking terrified about what may (or may not!!! even) come to pass on tuesday but like. theres nothing i can do
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very sorry if youre getting this twice my wifi lost connection the first time i hit send so im asking again in case didnt get through. its a relief to see you say writers block is just a state of mind issue! do you have any advice for people who are still stuck in it to stop being that way? what part of my thinking has to change to get better? and this has nothing to do with the topic but thank you for being one of the few mayomei sickfic writers in western fandom! finally some good fucking food
honestly its a hard thing to advise because i quite literally just brute force 90% of things in my life out of spite. but i think just internalizing it is a good first step?
like. writer's block is. how do i phrase this. it's just a term we have invented for feeling "stuck." which can be useful, except... it has now kind of taken on a life of its own, where people kind of talk about it as if it is... a condition? something that you can "come down with" so to speak. but in reality all it means is that you are stuck. something isn't working.
why are you stuck?
that's the thing to figure out. some people get stuck by many things. some people are only ever stuck via one thing. but when you chalk it up to "writer's block" what you are basically doing is giving yourself an excuse to not examine it further. you are saying to yourself, well, it's writer's block, hopefully it passes soon. and you are taking away the agency from yourself to help it pass, giving yourself over to the whim of it. you are relenting.
i am bad at relenting.
this goes hand in hand with the other thing that annoys me to hear people talk about--"inspiration." a lot of writers consider this to be an opposite of writer's block, so to speak. sometimes its inspiration, sometimes its motivation, but much like with writer's block, they consider it this kinda nebulous cloud that settles over them and oh! suddenly they can create!
this, again, takes away the writer's agency. they are simply at the behest of writer's block and its opposite, motivation. internalizing this mindset pretty much guarantees that your output will stagger. that terrifies me. the idea that i must go long swaths of time waiting to feel "inspired" or "motivated" sounds like hell. writing, creating, making something is what keeps me alive, and i think if i stopped i'd die.
so, once again i reiterate: what writer's block is, is a writer being stuck. the writer needs to unpack why they are stuck. instead of just saying 'oh lol its writer's block' and leaving it at that.
for me, what i thought was "writer's block" was actually perfectionism and a dissatisfaction with how the story looked in my head vs how it came across on paper. i felt the words i was putting on the page did not match the story i wanted to tell, and i would lock up and feel foggy and uninspired. but when i did that, i was angry, because it felt like giving up, and i fucking hate giving up. i hate failing even more than i hate being stumbling and imperfect.
more than that, i was writing nothing. i came to a conclusion: as i grew as a writer, my standards would shift and change. therefore, there will never exist a timeline where i am 100% satisfied and proud of everything i've ever written. furthermore, this paralytic fear of not telling the story i wanted to tell meant i wasn't telling a story at all. i was setting myself up to fail regardless, so i may as well tell a story while i do it.
the choice came down to, write hundreds of shitty words that were not up to my own (impossible) standard, or write nothing and hope and pray that one day i feel "inspired" enough to get the story in my head out. from a purely logistical standpoint, i think anyone can see which outcome is favourable.
and then i wrote stuff. and, uh, it turns out literally no one feels the same about my writing as i do. i think it sucks shit but everyone else LOVES it and thinks its top tier. which, again, just logically that tells me that my opinion is biased--i'm sitting with the story all day, so it looks predictable and uninspired to me. but no one else has that viewpoint. everyone else is just eating that shit like candy. again, just logistically, this makes it a lot easier to talk down the voice in my head that says i'm not making good enough art. i can just give it a chocolate candy and be like, calm down, little thing. clearly i am.
so to loop it back around: writer's block is just a term people use as a crutch to avoid examining why they feel unable to write. i personally found that saying instead what i am actually struggling with literally instead of chalking it up to some nebulous affliction made me a much more productive writer. i have a general word count i want to make every day and regardless of how i'm feeling i try my best to hit it. and thats why i can just write 45645645 fics all the time like it's nothing.
anyways THANK YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i will write mayomei forever if people keep talking to me abt it. they are so precious to me
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Mixed Drinks and Smoke Rings 17: The Second Coming
Chapter Seventeen: The Second Coming
Xanny, packed in my Off-White fanny,
I been going off, I’m manic,
Shit wearing off, I’m landing,
More on the way, don’t panic,
Drank too much, God damn it,
Shut that door, don’t slam it,
Shit too loud, can’t stand it,
I can’t stand it
Summary: New to town, you didn’t need a friend, you needed a dealer. Thankfully, a girl from your Narcotics Anonymous meetings knew just the guy.
Characters: Fezco (euphoria) x Non-descriptive Reader
Words: 4,405
Chapter Warnings: Drug use, abusive relationships, i already wrote out this damn thing once and then pressed the back button on my mouse by accident so if there are any mistakes its because im dumb and didnt save it as a draft as per
Series Warnings: Addiction, sexual themes, cursing, abuse (various), smut, drug use, teenagers being fucking idiots. 18+ only, minors DNI
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taglist: @iamasimpingh0e @chelseagirl77 @zeida @thepawn1999 @alanis-altair @purplebtsmagic @fuckrigthoff
'A complete stranger has the capacity to alter the life of another irrevocably. This domino effect has the capacity to change the course of an entire world. That is what life is; a chain reaction of individuals colliding with others and influencing their lives without realizing it. A decision that seems minuscule to you, may be monumental to the fate of the world.'
At least, that's what J.D Stroube once wrote.
Your life so far felt like one big game of dominoes, but you'd be stupid to blame all of your bad situations and decisions on other people. After all, even if you had to pick between the lesser of two evils, it was still you who had made the decision.
You might've been led to the water, but you're the horse who chose to drink.
As you walked through the school corridor you're friend, Chloe was going on and on about something -- you'd lost interest around 30 seconds into the one-sided conversation -- when your eyes wandered to the large mahogany stairs, where only the most elite of students hung out.
The popular kids -- like a million different teenage films -- seemed untouchable. Whilst loitering on the stairwells was forbidden, even the strictest of teachers would often walk right past them, and no punishments were ever given when they'd boldly stroll into class after the bell.
Everyone wanted an in with them, regardless of how, or why. And you most definitely were not immune to the charm.
As you passed the group, your eyes met those of Liam Ryder, easily the most popular boy in school, and a whole grade above you.
Not only completely ignoring Chloe, but you were also totally oblivious to Keon Jackson, only aware of him when he accidentally shoulder clipped you -- his own nose deep in a book -- sending you both flying.
Your face felt hot when you heard laughter, the high-pitched cackles from Jen Atkins seemingly much louder than anyone else's as she peered down at you from where she was sat, like some kind of puffed-up pigeon.
God, you wanted the ground to swallow you whole.
Brushing off Keon's bumbled apology, you pushed yourself to your knees, quickly grabbing your dropped belongings. As you moved to grab your textbook, a hand shot out, grazing yours as you both reached for the book.
Taking a deep breath, you finally looked up, eyes connecting with the same brown eyes that had distracted you in the first place.
He gripped your textbook as he quickly stood, offering a hand out to help you up.
"Really, I'm so sorry, I-" Keon began once more, cutting himself off when Liam sent him a sharp look.
"Scram."
And just like that, he did.
Turning his attention back toward you, his eyes softened as he visibly checked you over, "Are you alright? You went down pretty hard."
Trying your best to swallow down your embarrassment, you sent him a tight-lipped smile, followed by a curt nod. The problem with the elites, was that they were nice to look at, but terrifying to actually speak to.
Raising a quizzical brow at you, he smirked, "What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?"
Your eyes widened as you realized how rude you'd appeared, stuttering out a reply, "Shit. I mean... Uh sorry."
Shaking your head, you felt like an absolute idiot, "Thank you. I meant to say thank you."
His smirk only deepened as he watched you squirm, "I've seen you around. You're in my AP class, right?"
Unsure of why he was talking to you at all, you forced the lump in your throat down as you nodded, "Yeah. I uh... I sit near the front..."
If there was a God, you could only hope he'd strike you down where you stood for being such a damn loser. Instead, the bastard let you stand there, wringing your hands and babbling. Clearly, you didn't attend church nearly enough for the big man upstairs to help out.
"That test last week man... I barely scraped by. You did well though, right?"
You did more than do well, you wanted to say. But it didn't seem the appropriate time to brag, "Yeah, I did OK."
His dark eyes bore into yours for a moment, his free hand rubbing the back of his neck, "So, uh... Do you by any chance tutor people? I would totally pay, I just-"
Your eyebrows shot toward your hairline as you barely registered him now fumbling around his words. The elites of the school were smart enough, sure. But they usually relied on the brains of the less socially inept to do their school work.
"I don't usually tutor anyone," you watched as his face fell, shoulders deflating a little, "but I'm happy to go over my notes with you for next week's test."
His smile stretched across his face, meeting his eyes, "Yeah, that would be great, actually. Thank you."
You both stood in silence for a moment, his smile almost forcing a small grin onto yours. Feeling as though you'd only half-embarrassed yourself during this tete-a-tete, you finally spoke again, "Uh, I need to get to class..."
"Oh sure, yeah. Me too."
When neither of you moved, you let out a quiet chortle, "You uh... You still have my book."
It was Liam's turn to look mortified as his hand that had kept a firm grip on your book shot out toward you, only to tighten once you had grabbed the other end,
"Tomorrow, after school? I can drive you home after."
Waiting for your confirmation, he finally sent you a charming smile before releasing the book and making his way down the hallway, his head turning around only once, catching you still standing motionless, watching him leave.
Quickly spinning around on the spot, you couldn't help the large, beaming smile that tugged at your lips as you marched toward class.
What you didn't see, however, was Liam handing over a crisp bill to Keon as he passed.
Sitting on Liam's desk chair, you felt much more at ease than you probably should've, being alone in a boy's room.
He sat a respectable distance from you, choosing instead to perch on his king-sized bed.
He was tapping his pen along to whatever song was playing through his phone, silently mouthing along to the lyrics as he read and re-read over his notes.
Watching him for a moment, he seemed so relaxed in the comfort of his own home, even when in the presence of an almost total stranger.
Maybe, Liam was a lot more normal than you had originally been led to believe. Maybe the bravado and monkeying around in school was simply a front, a mask he was only content to take off in the safety of his own four walls.
Maybe, he was just as normal as the rest of you.
"Have you finished already?" He questioned, eyes never moving from his book.
Feeling your face warm-up, you quickly diverted your eyes back to your own work, "I finished like, ten minutes ago."
His brows pulled together as he looked toward you, the side of his mouth pulling up into a sideways grin, "So you've just been sat there twiddling your thumbs when you could've been helping me?"
You don't know whether it was his question or the look he was sending you, that made you nervous. Your leg bounced as you shrugged.
"Do you ever relax?" His tone was light, but his eyes were far too curious to mean it in jest.
"Of course I do... I'm just, I dunno..."
Thankfully, he only let you suffer for a moment or two as he silently watched you struggle for any word that wasn't 'nervous'. His eyes darted toward your still-moving leg before returning to you with a lifted brow.
"High strung? Anxious? Scared? All of the above..."
"I'm not scared of you..."
Standing from his bed, he made his way over to you, his palm flattening against your thigh in order to stop its bouncing, "I'm not making fun of you, I swear. Just... You shouldn't be so worried all of the time. It's not good for your health."
A small chuckle escaped you, lessening the frown that creased your forehead. You watched as he leaned over you -- his body so close you could smell the faded scent of whatever soap he'd used this morning -- rifling through one of his desk drawers,
"I have just the thing," he smiled, straightening up as he held the joint between his fingers.
Placing the unlit joint onto your rolling tray, you released a long sigh.
It had started innocently enough. A couple of puffs on a joint every now and then, hiding out in his room under the guise of studying. If his parents cared that he had a girl over, or that he was smoking pot, they never spoke up.
You'd never speak much in school, instead, your days were filled with gentle grazes as you passed in the hallways, and longing looks across the lunchroom.
His attention seemed solely focused on you whenever you were in his vicinity, and you'd even heard his friends mock him on occasion for being so distracted, even if they didn't know why. Yet, he continued to drown them out whenever his dark eyes met yours across a room.
Maybe that was what initially drew you to him. The way that, even in a room full of students, he could make you feel like the only person there with him, without saying a single word to you.
The stolen glances felt like a romantic secret, something only the two of you shared because nobody else --his friends, or yours -- mattered enough to know.
In hindsight -- which they say is 20/20 -- you knew this was because you were a secret. At least in the beginning. And maybe that was the first red flag you'd ignored.
"Please explain why you invited some girl that you've barely spoken five words to."
Tucker wasn't wrong. Liam technically hadn't spoken to you in school much since that fated day in the hallway.
"She's cool, man. Trust me."
Your nerves were at an all-time high as you sat in the passenger seat of Chloe's car, tugging at your skirt. It had taken some convincing, but she'd finally agreed to check out what was being dubbed the biggest party of the year.
Tucker was rich, rich. His parents worked in real estate and -- thankfully for him -- seemed to spend most of their free time out on their yacht.
You assumed that was why Tucker acted the way he did; he craved attention. Good or bad, it didn't matter. You didn't want to admit it, but you both had more in common than you'd assumed. Hell, most of the kids here did.
Your mother had flown out to DC before you'd even woken up that morning and wouldn't be back until late Sunday evening, and your father had gone to a sports bar with some work colleagues.
Although you'd had to practically drag Chloe there, a few other people in your group had willingly come along, excited to attend their first real high school party.
Sure, you all claimed that you didn't care about popularity, but you were human. All you really wanted was to be accepted, to be liked. Isn't that how every teenager felt?
"Look what the cat dragged in," a supercilious voice caught your attention as soon as you walked through the door as if she was awaiting your arrival.
"Oh, hey Jen."
No matter how tempted you were to divert your eyes and look around the room for the familiar brown ones, you kept your eyes on the girl in front of you, her own piercing glare refusing to back down. You weren't sure where her sudden animosity had come from, but you knew she was playing some kind of game. You only wished you knew the rules.
"Are you two going to stare at each other all night or what?" Chloe grumbled, catching Jen's attention. Seemingly bored of playing with her food, Jen merely rolled her eyes before strutting off into the sea of people.
"What the hell was that about?"
Shrugging, you weren't entirely sure yourself, "C'mon, let's go see how big the pool is."
Looking back, you couldn't feel anger toward your younger self. You just felt... sad.
You'd remember that party for the rest of your life, a bittersweet memory that you didn't know how or even if you wanted to rid yourself of.
That night was the first time you'd tried anything harder than pot. Liam had produced a line of Xanax, joking that if weed wouldn't help you relax, then this definitely would.
"Don't you think you've had enough?"
Chloe's question caused your eyes to roll, annoyance radiating off you as you took a bigger gulp from your cup, trying to prove a point. Wiping your chin, your eyes met Liam's across the room, watching as he obliviously nodded along to whatever his friend was saying, his burning stare not deviating from you since you'd first spotted each other.
"I'm just trying to enjoy myself. Maybe you should have a couple, might make you a bit more fun."
You knew your words were harsh, but you were 4 cups of jungle juice deep and fed up with her party-pooper attitude. She'd been counting down the minutes since your arrival, mumbling under her breath about how she'd have more fun watching paint dry, and being a little too loud with her deprecating comments. Chloe could be brusque at the best of times, downright rude at the worst.
You just wanted to have a little fun at the first party you'd actually been invited to. And here she was, acting like a total bitch.
"Well, I'm sorry that I don't think getting wasted on over-priced alcohol with a bunch of people who won't remember me in 5 years is 'fun'. I just didn't think you'd entertain them either,"
Pushing herself from the wall, she eyed the crowd dubiously for a moment before turning back to you, eyebrows pulled together, "Don't think it's odd that they even invited us? I mean, I'm not even sure they know our names. If they pull a 'Carrie' and pour pig blood on us, I wouldn't even be surprised."
Squeezing your eyes shut, you could feel your last nerve fray, "Fucking hell, Chloe. Get a grip, OK? First of all, I was invited, not you. Maybe, they'd know our names if you weren't being a colossal bitch all night. The fact that you think nobody here would bother with me unless they had an ulterior motive is fucked up."
Downing more of your drink -- ignoring the glances from classmates that had overheard your argument -- your chest heaved as guilt settled over you, weighing you down heavily. Sure, Chloe could be a little too much sometimes, but she was your friend.
Before you could open your mouth to apologize, Chloe shook her head, a tremulous laugh falling from her tight-lipped, mournful smile, "Fuck you. Find your own way home."
You heard the hushed chatter and laughs as she pushed through the crowd, making her exit.
Releasing a sigh, you gently knocked your head against the wall behind you as you felt tears fill your closed eyes. Trying to garner the strength to follow her out and apologize profusely, your eyes fluttered open when you heard a familiar voice,
"Well, that was... dramatic.”
Your brow creased as you bit your bottom lip. Your face felt hot and you knew as soon as you opened your eyes, you'd start crying. Maybe you were a little too drunk.
"I'm uh... I'm sorry," You sniffed, feeling a tear roll down your cheek as you opened your eyes, "I didn't mean for that to happen. I'm gonna... I'm gonna head out-"
Leaning forward, Liam brushed his thumb against your cheek, wiping away the stray tear, "No, I... shit. I didn't mean you, I meant her. You're just having a good time and she's clearly got a problem with that."
Sending him a meek smile, you found yourself feeling a little more relaxed as his warm brown eyes watched you, "You heard that, then..."
"I think everyone heard that..." he shoved his hands into his jean pockets, "but she's jealous, you know? I would never invite you here under false pretenses... I just, you know... Enjoy spending time with you."
You forced down a deep breath, feeling like the exploding butterflies in your stomach would escape if given the chance.
He could tell you were still embarrassed, and a little uncomfortable as he placed his arm around your shoulders, "C'mon, I've got something that will really take the edge off."
The glass crunched under your sneakers as you made your way into the lounge, looking around at the destruction your father had caused.
You'd visited the station a few times, once to give your statement, and the rest to try and speak to someone about bailing your dad out. You'd gone in guns blazing, telling them you had no intentions of pressing charges and that it was all a misunderstanding, but you were simply told that an attorney intended to.
Kicking off, you were quickly escorted out with the threat of being arrested yourself.
You were told he was put on a 48-hour hold, his past DUI really coming back to bite him in the ass and the cost of the bail was enough to make you lose all hope. A bail bond agent would be your only option.
Grabbing the broom from the closet, you ignored your pounding head and began to sweep up some of the glass. You had a party to prepare for, after all.
"How are you feeling?"
Everything sounded slow as if you were swimming underwater. The drowsiness was bad enough, but every time you managed to open your eyes, the blurred vision was enough to make you slam them back shut.
It sounded awful but... You felt relaxed, just as Liam had promised. Sure, weed was great at calming you, too, but when Liam escorted you into a spare bedroom, his friends all sat around snorting a powder from the bedside cabinet, you felt like you couldn't say no.
"I, uh... You know. Good. I feel good."
You were aware enough to know your speech was slurred, but couldn't find it in yourself to give a shit. You did feel good. Just tired. Very tired.
Your head rested against Liam's shoulder as you were snuggled into his side. You don't remember how or when you came outside, sitting around the fire pit with his friends, but the party had seemingly calmed down, and you could only make out a few different voices.
"Maybe the drinks before were a little too much," he chuckled, watching your head fall forwards a few times, the motion pulling you from sleep, "C'mon, you can't go home like this."
Tripping over your feet, Liam gently guided you back into the house, ignoring the wolf whistles from his friends.
Kicking the door shut behind him, Liam led you toward the bed, laying you down gently after he'd pulled back the duvet, "You should sleep it off. Fair warning, you'll most likely feel like shit tomorrow."
Totally unaware of his warning, you were already passed out.
Pushing your way past the large crowd that had congregated in your living room, you needed to find some peace and quiet.
You used to love parties, after you began to hang around with Liam and his friends, you attended one every weekend and hung out at an abandoned warehouse that the group would often refer to as the 'Factory' on school nights, getting high without the worry of someone's parents walking in.
You didn't have that problem right now.
Shouldering a drunken teen out of the way, your body ached with the contact. Whilst your nose had been bloody, and your lip split, the majority of injuries you'd received were from the fall down the stairs. Bruises and cuts from the glass littered your body, and sometimes you'd have a sharp pain in your ribs whenever you'd inhale too deeply, but with the looming price of your father's bond, you couldn't afford to go to ER.
So you settled for a much less expensive way of soothing the pain. It was as if reminding yourself about your body aches caused them to hurt more, and you rubbed your wrist as you made your way outside to the small garden.
"Move." Your tone was stern, leaving no room for arguments as your classmate jumped up from the plastic chair, allowing you to settle into it instead.
You had binged your way through your pill supply, both with Rue and alone. You couldn't deny that you had pushed the girl away recently. You didn't mean to, but you liked to be alone when you wallowed in self-pity.
After what felt like only a few moments of peace, a loud sigh came from someone who practically threw themselves next to you, "Everything OK?"
Maybe you were stupid to invite him and his friends. Hell, you didn't know who half the people at this party were. It was an odd feeling, wanting to be alone but around people. You couldn't explain it, let alone begin to understand it.
Rue's Mom had offered you a place to stay after her daughter had filled her in on what happened, but after a few days, you returned home, worried about being able to hide your habits from her, and not wanting to pull Rue down with you.
"Just in pain," you told him truthfully, trying to ignore the way his dark eyes lingered on your bruised wrist.
"You uh... You haven't got anything for it?"
Shaking your head, you looked up toward the stars, barely able to see them because of the city lights, "My, uh... dealer... He's in between stock right now."
"And Devon?"
"Said he had to head out of town for something."
Liam watched you as you deflated a little. He could tell you were in the throws of a withdrawal from something, "Well, lucky I saw him before he left then."
Your eyes flung open, watching him quietly for a moment before sitting forward in your seat, "What have you got?"
"Does it matter?" His brow raised as he tried to hide a smirk. And in all honesty... No. It didn't matter. At this rate, you'd take anything he had to offer.
It would be funny, if it wasn't so sad, how quickly you could fall back into old patterns.
"I don't care, Rue. I ain't goin'."
"C'mon Fez, if not for her, then for me. I don't wanna be surrounded by her old, rich asshole friends."
A humorless laugh escaped him as he leaned into the sofa, "Neither do I. Which is exactly why I ain't goin'. You don't need to either if you don't wanna."
Rue couldn't fault Fez's logic. She didn't want to go, so why should she? The only answer she had, was guilt.
She was the reason your father was currently sitting behind bars awaiting a court date, and she was the reason why you'd clearly spiraled into an addiction Rue didn't quite expect from you.
Yes, you took drugs recreationally, and you often drank with them, too. It might've been excessive but... She knew you were currently binging on them, already telling you that you'd run out of your supply. You were popping pills like candy, so she couldn't find it surprising. Remembering her own outburst at Fez when he refused to fuel her own addiction, Rue was glad you hadn't bothered him, knowing he didn't have anything to sell.
Watching Rue as she appeared lost in her own world, Fez sighed, "Look, I know you been feelin' guilty about all that shit with her Dad, but don't, alright? It's on him, no one else. He's just lucky the cops turned up fo' me."
Rue turned her attention to Fez, watching as he lounged on the couch inconspicuously, yet she saw his fingers sink between the cushions, content once he found the cold handle of a gun.
"What were you gonna do?"
Making her way toward the other couch, Rue sat herself down, watching him attentively.
"Kill him." Fez didn't even hesitate, causing Rue to release a long sigh.
"Shit man. You got it fuckin' bad."
Fez's face scrunched up as he rubbed a hand over his head, deep in thought. Rue didn't know everything, he was sure of that. But it seemed she did know something.
"We friends, Rue. You know that."
Shaking her head, Rue pushed herself up, "Bullshit. You're both so fucking annoying. You coming to the party, or not?"
He wanted to, even if just to check you were OK. Rue wasn't exactly forthcoming with her answers when he'd ask, and that somehow made him feel **worse**. He was certain she was hiding something, but he knew she was just trying to protect you, and calling her out on her bullshit wouldn't get him anywhere. He knew Rue, and he knew that she needed to ask for help before she'd accept any.
But Fez knew damn well he wouldn't be welcome, and coming to your house was asking for drama that he wouldn't partake in. You already felt betrayed by him, he didn't intend to twist the knife by showing up.
Taking his silence for an answer, Rue released an annoyed groan before making her way out.
He watched as she left, following her to the door to lock it, confused when she turned around and sighed, “Grow some balls, Fez.”
He could've called her out on the comment, telling her that he was only neck deep in shit because he covered for her, knowing damn well you would probably never speak to him again.
But friends didn't do that shit to each other. So instead, he let her stomp down the road, praying that you had the sense to keep yourself safe tonight. But he couldn't let himself dwell on it, he was meeting up with a new dealer in a couple of days, hoping that he could partner with her considering Mouse's... absence.
Then, he had a date with Nate Jacobs.
#fezco euphoria#fezco fanfic#fezco smut#fezco imagine#fezco x y/n#fezco x reader#fezco fanfiction#fez euphoria#fez fanfic#fez smut#fez imagine#fez x y/n#fez fanfiction#fez x reader#euphoria fanfic#euphoria imagine#euphoria fic#mixed drinks and smoke rings
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hi! my name is rex too and i think thats pretty cool
anyway, i was wondering if you had any tips on dressing feminine but like,,,, also being able to pass? or tips on being confident enough to not need to pass?
heyy that is pretty cool!!
im gonna be honest with you, i never really managed to pass before starting t. there were like 5 times ppl gendered me correctly but after that they immediatly "corrected" themselves. the only person who didnt was a toddler, i hope hes doing great.
all the tips and tricks ppl gave out never worked for me, never managed to figure out why, im thinking it was mostly my voice.
so i got absolutely no passing advice for you, but i can definitely tell you how to work on your confidence and say fuck you to societies ridiculous expectations
(it turned out longer than i distracted, i cant give concrete advice apparently my apologies)
tw: mention of bullying and some mental health stuff but nothing heavy
before i start i will say that it takes time. it takes time to learn and let go of this need to fit in. to learn to do your own thing even if you have to do it alone. to grow and learn who you want to be or are.
first we need to understand that expectations of how we should act or dress or look, whether based on our gender or not, are absolute bullshit. like straight up made up.
step one is kill the cop in your head. every time you judge yourself (or someone else) for something, ask why you care about that. most of the time its cause you have been taught in some way that what youre doing is not according to "the rules". this can be for the smallest things, like when i get really excited and stim about something i used to feel embarassed because "men dont act like that". sometimes i still feel that way. its not something you can just get rid of, so its important to actively affirm yourself that what youre doing is okay and that you are allowed to do what makes you happy.
dealing with yourself is already a hell of a challenge, but other people, that something else. i hope you live in an accepting area and i have heard many stories of people are queer fully accepted for it. but often thats sadly not yet the case. surely isnt for me at my school. there are people who are gonna make you feel like shit, who are gonna call you all the horrible things the voice in your brain calls you too. you are gonna wish you were "normal" sometimes, even if you dont really mean it.
going back to normal? going back in the closet? letting go of the clothes that make my feel better even on the most dysphoric days? fuck no, i finally started to get myself, my life back, im not sacrificing that for some teens whos names i dont even know. so you turn it around, no longer "why do they treat me like that" but "how dare they treat me like that" if they kick you while youre down you better bite their ankles and dont let go. most people who bully people who are "other" are terrified of what they see in us. we are living proof that their belief of how the world should work is very wrong. they call you a fag and a tranny? you better come to school next day in the gayest clothes you own. they call you an emo and bark at you? you better be dressed even more punk the next day. they may laugh at you, yell at you, even record you or push you around. it doesnt matter, they hold no power over who you are.
but please do not try and carry this alone. dont let yourself turn bitter. its is difficult to be treated like shit for simply existing. even when it doesnt hurt as much as it did its still exhausting. find someone to talk to, whether its a family member you trust, a friend, a mental health professional or other queer people online. its important not to suppress your feelings. get them out, by either talking about them or writing or making art or music.
know that its your life and you can live it however the hell you want. be kind to yourseld, be kind to others. if you are not where you want to be to right now you will in the future. cant really call it a life if you didnt live for it. it will get better, you just got to keep going and keep fighting.
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hi hello i realllyy wanted to ask 18 but im not sure if it’s a boring one with how applicable it is with the WOL so I found another one too just in case \o/
15. What places hold significant meaning or memories for your OC? Do they have a positive or negative association with those places?
18. Has your OC ever had a prophecy made about them? Was it a big deal or did they ignore it? Was it straightforward or cryptic? Did it ever come to pass or did they circumvent it?
HIIIII THANK U THANK U THESE BOTH LOOK SO FUN
15. What places hold significant meaning or memories for your OC? Do they have a positive or negative association with those places?
l'aiha has a weird... how do i put this. you know when people have an attachment to something that causes more hurt to them than peace? l'aiha feels like that about the phantom amaurot. she visits it A LOT after defeating emet-selch, just to sit there and watch the simulacrums go about their daily lives. it haunts her, but she can't look away. she goes there until she and her friends are all returned to the source and everything gets a little too busy to sit around being melancholy in another reflection's fake city, and she feels strangely empty without it. almost like a lesser form of an addiction, a place she needs to go to 'feel normal', even though it just seems to cause her more pain.
she doesn't know why, but it feels like 'the key'. l'aiha suffered profound amnesia during the seventh calamity, and has no memory of her life or identity prior to it. amaurot, emet-selch going on and on and ON about this old world she used to know but forgot—it triggers this obsession in her. she wants to remember. she wants so fucking badly to remember anything at all. the memory loss hasn't bothered her since ARR, but emet-selch tears it open like an old scar, and she can't close it up again. she needs to remember. she will stare at this city with no answers for her until she remembers. only getting dragged back to the source severs her from that particular 'fix'—but at a price, cus see, what happens after 5.3 ties in WONDERFULLY with question #18. :)
18. Has your OC ever had a prophecy made about them? Was it a big deal or did they ignore it? Was it straightforward or cryptic? Did it ever come to pass or did they circumvent it?
so the answer here is "KIND OF". at the final battle with elidibus in 5.3, l'aiha feels something 'awaken' within her, prompting her to use the memory crystal she was given by hythlodaeus. what awakened was the semi-rejoined consciousness of her ancient life, artemis—azem.
and artemis is... NOT a pleasant presence for l'aiha. l'aiha finds her terrifying, finds it terrifying that every memory artemis experiences, l'aiha feels like it's her own. she finally, FINALLY is remembering what emet-selch wanted her to, and it's wrong and terrible and it scares her to fucking death. this isn't her. this IS her. this HAS to be who she was, even before the 'who she was' she was looking for; this has to be the ultimate, the 'first' who she was.
and all artemis wants, all artemis ever communicates, is that she wants l'aiha to give up. "lay down your life, and let me take up the mantle of burden in your stead." because to artemis, l'aiha is this sweet, precious, HOPELESS creature. artemis feels terribly for the sundered, because they are so full of life and love, but how, how could they EVER face what she, a full and whole ancient, couldn't? how could they ever, ever, ever withstand the final days when people bigger and fuller and More than them couldn't? she pities them. she pities l'aiha. she's like a kitten in the cold, unable to understand that no matter how she cries or searches, she will not survive this.
the "prophecy" is artemis's. "you are going to fail, just as i did. so give me your life, so that you do not have to face that failure. let me fail in your place again, so that you may embrace the peace and sanctuary of ignorance, so that it may never be broken. let me spare you."
and l'aiha is PARALYZED by it. through 5.4, through 5.5, and all the way to the moon in 6.0. she's haunted by this inevitable failure, this thing she cannot possibly do because how could she? how could she, when a soul fourteen times MORE than her couldn't? artemis has her in a chokehold and tells her it's mercy, it's kindness, it's pity. she tells her how sorry she is. she tells her she will take the pain, if only l'aiha lets her end it swiftly.
as for how the "prophecy" plays out... in the face of zodiark, in the face of everything that she believes has caused this pain artemis speaks of, l'aiha does something incredible: she does what artemis couldn't. she resists artemis's attempt to take over her body, she refuses to be spared—and she kills zodiark. she frees all the souls artemis mourns, the lives the convocation stole for an insane, doomed to fail bid to stop the sky from falling. artemis is speechless. she no longer haunts l'aiha's mind. she's there, l'aiha can feel her, but she is wordless.
she is realizing, over the course of vanaspati and then elpis, that l'aiha is not JUST a fragment of her. l'aiha is a person. every sundered soul is their own, unique person, irregardless of whose soul they were once a piece of. she realizes that l'aiha, somehow, fulfills the potential artemis couldn't. l'aiha is the light that shines through the darkness. she comes out the other side. she lives. she succeeds.
the "prophecy", the conviction with which artemis died, that the final days could not be circumvented, that the world was doomed—is shattered. l'aiha is not artemis. l'aiha is l'aiha, and she might just be able to do what artemis couldn't. the "prophecy" is one of failure, of doom, but l'aiha breaks it, and shows artemis it can be hope. it can be light. l'aiha breaks the song of oblivion that has seized artemis's heart for twelve thousand dead, silent years.
and artemis realizes that the reason she couldn't stop the final days was because SHE didn't have the hope. she didn't try until the end. she gave up. she despaired. and l'aiha won't. l'aiha will cry and mourn and scream and bleed but she will hope. she will try until there is nothing left of her to try with. she will not be spared. she will not give up. so no matter that l'aiha's soul is "smaller", no matter that l'aiha is not, physically or spiritually, what an ancient was—she is more. she is more because she dares to hope in the face of nothing but despair. she meets the potential artemis had and couldn't meet herself.
sorry i am. so so so so so insane about l'aiha and artemis in shb and enw hehehe. they're so important to me. l'aiha's journey to realizing "i am not anyone else, i am not anyone who came before, i am me, i am here now" is soooooo precious to me, and artemis finding peace in realizing that l'aiha is not lesser, is not a tiny, doomed fragment of her own failures, but is the potential that was met, is the successor, is the bird that came of the ashes, is so!!!! it's like a story about a mother and daughter to me. l'aiha is not artemis. l'aiha is l'aiha, and she will face her life in ways artemis never could, and she will succeed where artemis failed, and she will be things artemis couldn't be and WON'T be things artemis COULD be. it's. rolls around on the floor. i'm insane about it thANK U FOR THESE TWO EXTRAORDINARILY GOOD QUESTIONS ;_;
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I posted 405 times in 2022
That's 405 more posts than 2021!
63 posts created (16%)
342 posts reblogged (84%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
@xofemeraldstars
@book-place
@bringinsexybackk69
@cas-kingdom
I tagged 79 of my posts in 2022
#supernatural - 9 posts
#sam winchester - 8 posts
#xmen - 7 posts
#dean winchester - 6 posts
#castiel - 5 posts
#moon knight - 5 posts
#criminal minds - 4 posts
#spn - 4 posts
#toothless!reader - 4 posts
#tumblr milestone - 3 posts
Longest Tag: 129 characters
#why isnt underlining a word an option?? i wanted to do that multiple times now and evry time i get stuck with the bold word thing
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
im not even 5 minutes into rewatching moonknight when i realized... if marcs mum is dead..does that mean he was writing steven postcards and leaving them their for him?
31 notes - Posted May 12, 2022
#4
"A Leap Of Faith"
Fandom: Xmen
Pairings: Logan Howlett x gn!teen!reader, Hank McCoy x gn!teen!reader, Scott Summers x gn!teen!reader, Kurt Wagner x gn!teen!reader, Jean Grey x gn!teen!reader, Jubilation Lee x gn!teen!reader
Warnings: Crying, Swearing, Alcohol, Implied Gore
A/N: holy fucking shit this took ages to make. so proud of it though!! the flying part was my favourite part to write, plus scott and logans relationship with the r.
----
"Ok, Scott, truth or dare?" Jean grins at Scott. He looks terrified, which you find hilarious, and he quietly says "Truth?" You look at him with your mouth agape "Damn, Summers, you've got some balls!" Scott rolls his eyes and looks over at Jean, Kurt and Jubilee discussing what they should ask- apparently your questions were 'too lame' so you got kicked. So rude.
Jubilee turns around suddenly and asks "Have you ever taken alcohol from Logans cabinet?" Scott quickly anwsers "Fuck no! I don't have a death wish!" You open your mouth to comment on that but Jubilee turns to you brightly and says "Y/N! Your turn! Truth or Dare?" You smirk, "Well, unlike Summers over here, I'm not a pussy. Dare." Scott threw his hands up in the air "What the fuck, dude?", and you promptly ignore him, instead intently staring at the group in front of you. (Scott got kicked out of the group too, because his dares were deemed too risky.)
After a solid 5 minutes, Kurt turns to you and says "We dare you to fly off the roof!" You instantly pale. "Guys, I'd wake the entire mansion up. Can't you think of something better?" you try reason, but Scott jumps in and quips "What, too much of a pussy?" You glare at him and he shrinks back a bit. "Oh, come on Y/N, it'll be fun! Besides, we've never seen you fly before!" Jubilee chines in.You feel your face start to heat up and your hands shaking.
All too quick, you stand up and stumble over an excuse of needing the bathroom. Jean frowns at you as you scurry out the room, opening her mouth to interfere but Scott has already started truth or dare again.
You rush down the halls, ignoring the looks of any onlooking students. You just wanted to get outside and sit in the garden, and cry a little bit, because of your stupid fucking-
Bam!
You whack into someone tall and stagger back a little, mumbling a small 'Sorry' and continuing on your way. You run over to your spot and finally break down. Tears stream down your face, and all you can think is 'Why did it have to be me? Why me?' You curl up into a ball, your wings encasing you in a cold shell.
Why me?
----
Logan was walking down the halls after a very, very tiring day- also known as Hank used him as his 'assistant' in the lab. Personally he thought this was payback for drinking all the good whiskey, but hey, could you blame him? Anyway, as he thinks about how damn good that whiskey was, he slams into some kid. Taken aback, he looks down to see a very distraught Y/N, who quickly runs away. "What the fuck?" he mutters, immediately turning to follow them.
A good ten minutes of running to catch up with this kid pass, and Logan slows down as he approaches soft crying. He cautiously walks around the tree.
The snap of a tree branch makes you whip your head towards the noise and growl- only to start crying again once you realize it's just Logan. He awkwardly sits down beside you and wait for you to start talking.
Some time passes and your cries slowly quite down to just sniffles and the occasional hiccup. You rub your eyes and look over at Logan, who simply asks "What happened, kid?" You sigh and look at the ground for a moment, before pulling your tail halfway into your lap and stare at your missing fin. "When I first got my mutation, my parents weren't.." you pause and glance over for a moment "Well you can imagine how they'd react to their kid growing wings and a tail." Logan softly hums beside you.
"Anyway, they realized that I wouldn't be able to fly if I didn't have one of my fins, so they.." you trail off and stare at your tail. Logan takes a sharp intake and breaths out "Jesus, kid I'm sorry." You stare at your tail for another moment and continue "Me and the others were playing Truth or Dare and they dared me to fly off the roof. I didn't have the confidence to tell them I couldn't, so.." you vaguely gesture to the field surrounding you two. Logan is silent beside you, thinking deeply.
"Well," Logan starts "We could always talk to Hank about making prosthetic fin?". You turn and stare at him, prompting him to continue "Think about it. People get prosthetic hands and legs all the time, why would it be different for you? Just means Hank would have to make it and not some corporation." You start to process what he's saying- you could be able to fly! You grin at Logan who returns it immediately.
----
*Two Weeks Later*
----
After two weeks of Professor McCoy doing measurements and fitting prototype prosthetics on you, it's finally time. You're going to fly. Which sounds so much easier in your head.
You peer over the edge of the roof, cringing at how high you're up. You step back and weakly joke "Hey, if it doesn't work do I get a refund?" Professor McCoy huffed a laugh, and said reassuringly "Trust me, it's going to work." You hum and mutter under your breath "Yeah, like the last two did." Logan claps a hand on your back, "C'mon kid, it's just a leap of faith. The second you jump you'll be fine." You glance at him and step back again, rolling your shoulders back. It's just a leap of faith, that's all it is.
You take a deep breath, and take a running leap off the roof. For a moment you're plummeting towards the ground, wind blurring your eyes and whipping through your hair. Then you pull up your wings and suddenly you're soaring through the air, faster than light itself. You start laughing maniacally- you're fucking flying! You turn around and fly over Professor McCoy and Logan. You can just hear Logan yelling "Fuck yeah, kid!"
You pull yourself upwards into the clouds and slow down, admiring the view. You swoop down to the clouds and fly through them, soaking your clothes. Oops. You twirl around in the air, feeling free as can be.
Eventually you return to Logan and Professor McCoy, and you immediately hug the latter mumbling a "Thank you Professor." He smiles and returns the hug, responding warmly "No problem. Remember to tell me if you have any problems with it." He nods to Logan, and walks downstairs.
You grin at Logan, "Did you see me up there? I was so fast! I was in the fucking clouds, Logan! The clouds! And- and it was so cool! I was so cool!" Logan laughs at your excitedness, wrapping an arm around you as you continue to ramble about how awesome flying was and how you could bring him up there someday.
32 notes - Posted November 12, 2022
#3
"What The Fuck?"
Fandom: Xmen
Pairings: Logan Howlett x gn!teen!reader, mentioned Kurt Wagner x gn!teen!reader
Warnings: Swearing, Falling on your ass.
A/N: crack fic with minor foreshadowing ooh spooky. anyways theres a lil heartfelt moment in there cuz im a loser who likes heartfelt moments. enjoy. (lmk if i missed any warnings)
----
Last night, you got to spend your first night in your own room! This may not seem like huge thing to most, but when you've been sharing with a group of twelve year old boys..you loose your mind a bit.You sit up and stretch with a huge yawn. For once in your life, you've managed to get a peaceful nights sleep, which meant you could probably do something productive with your evening. You go to your dresser and choose a lovely f/c outfit that compliment your scales beautifully, and then walk to your door so you can go downstairs and eat some food. Maybe you would even do today's homework-
THUD
You stumble backwards, nearly falling on your ass. What the fuck? You try and walk forwards once again before you realize the problem: your wings. Sometimes your wings wouldn't fold if you kept them folded for too long, which has never proven to be a problem because you could always squeeze through the doors. This is apparently not the case in your new room. You stare at the door before trying to turn sideways and walk through the door- except your room wasn't big enough to turn fully with your wings expanded.
What the hell do you do? Do you yell for Kurt to get his ass in here and teleport you out? Or do you wait for Logan to realize you're not in class and go looking for you? You stand there for ages before eventually looking out the window. The stars were out tonight, which meant you would be able to convince Logan to skip class and look at the stars instead. If you could get out of your god forsaken room-
----
Logan sighed for what felt like the hundredth time this minute. Y/N was late for class by an hour, which by itself was unusual, but no one has seen Y/N all day- they usually at least try to leave their room during the morning. He gave up on waiting and decided to look for them- first thing first, their bedroom. They could've just overslept and are still tangled in about a million blankets (Logan commented that it looked like a nest, and Y/N's response had been "Fuckin' duh.")
He reached their room and knocked three times, and immediately heard an exasperated "Fucking finally! Open the door!" Clearly confused, Logan opened the door to reveal Y/N standing on their bed with their wings expanded, taking up most of the room. "Kid...what the hell happened?" the teen grinned at him and shrugged, simply responding "I got stuck here for two hours 'cause my wings wouldn't fold. Can you get Kurt to teleport me out?"Logan nodded and took one last glance at them before heading off to the end of the hall where Kurt was.
----
"..So, that's what happened to my wings earlier. It doesn't really hurt, but keeping them folded up all the time does." the teen said nonchalantly. Logan looked at them with a raised eyebrow, "You would think you would have the common sense to stretch them or, you know, fly, but I guess not." You shift uncomfortably and laugh a little " Yeah, I probably should stretch more often." The older man looks at you for a moment but decides to not comment on your wording.
The pair sits in silence for the next while, quietly admiring the stars. You look at Logan momentarily, wondering how different your life would be if you hadn't come to the school. You would probably be deep in a forest, far away from any civilisation. You wouldn't have your amazing friends, any good role models...you would be alone.
Thank fuck you're not.
34 notes - Posted November 11, 2022
#2
"Guard Dog"
Fandom: Xmen
Pairings: Charles Xavier x teen!reader, Hank Mccoy x teen!reader, Kurt Wagner x teen!reader, Scott Summers x teen!reader, Jean Grey x teen!reader, Jubilation Lee x teen!reader
Warnings: Bullying
A/N: this came to me months ago and now im cool enough to write it down. go follow my friends @book-place @bringinsexybackk69 (this is set when everyone other than the teachers are teens! ;] )
----
You drag yourself out of bed and lazily put on a hoodie, not even bothering to change out of your pajamas. Scott had convinced you to wake up at lunch time so you could eat with your friends, which would usually get a solid "Fuck no."...but there was a promise of chocolate chip cookies. So fucking up your sleep schedule it was!
Walking down the stairs, you catch a few staring eyes and shoot a glare at them. They immediately scramble away much to your happiness.
You easily spot your friends under a tree and walk over to them, enjoying the afternoon you rarely get to see. Scott spots you and cheers "Sup Snow White!". You roll your eyes playfully "Oh hardy har har Summers." you sarcastically snark as you plop yourself down beside Kurt.
Everyone launches back into conversation, and you find yourself calmly smiling at the mess of a group you call family friends. Then, the fire nation attacked.
"Hey, freak! Did you force them to sit with you? Or do they just feel bad?" Your attention is turned to some random teen you've seen in passing- he was mocking your wings. Not a pleasant guy. Jean just rolls her eyes at him, while Kurt sits looking uncomfortable. Jubilee and Scott are glaring at him, and you're- well...
"Oi! Who the fuck do you think you're talking to?" you holler at him. This garners the attention of some nearby students who are now whispering to each other. The teen scoffs and rolls his eyes, "Oh, is this your little guard dog? How cute!" he mockingly coos. Your mind is racing a mile a minute but you keep yourself under control, and calmly walk over to him. The students are gathering closer now, curious to what's going to happen next.
The teen sizes you up and gets in your face, "You mad, doggy? What're gonna do about it? Bark?" You smile sweetly at him, and then swing you're tail underneath his legs. He immediately falls backwards but you catch to collar of his shirt and bring him close, "If you ever, and I mean ever" you bringing him closer "come near my friends again, I won't be here to catch you. Got it?" He nods vigorously. You smile sweetly and let him stumble backwards. "There's a good doggy." you mock as you turn back to your friends.
Sadly, the universe was not on your side, as Professor McCoy calls for you and the teen to follow him to the headmasters office.
...Well, shit.
----
School sucks, you think as you walk to the office. One moment you're defending your friend against some dickwad and the next you're being escorted to the headmasters office, which is complete bullshit! Sure Jean could handle herself on her own, but she shouldn't have to! Everyone deserves a friend who has their back. And maybe a little bit of your reaction was because you were sick of being treated like an animal, but who could blame you?
Before you realize, Professor McCoy is knocking on the Professors door- you wonder if they had to battle for who got the title of "The Professor"- and he opens it, closing it after the three of you are inside. Professor Xavier looks up blindly before a flash of recognition sparks in his eyes, so he sits up straighter and looks more serious. Glancing beside you, it looks like the teen (who's name you learn to be Doug) is playing the innocent lamb while you get the part of the Big Bad Wolf. Lovely.
"Can anyone care to tell me why you're here?" the Professor asks, looking between you two. Doug responds scarily quickly "Yeah, that asshole attacked me for no fucking reason!" Your eyebrows raise a bit- he couldn't have tried made his story a bit believable? The Professor sharply turns to him "Mr. Carol, I do not appreciate that tome of voice." Doug squirms a bit where he stands as the Professor continues "Now please, could you elaborate?"
Doug starts to tell a story how he was leaning against a tree reading a book, when you walked up to him and got up in his face and pushed him to the ground. Which is complete bullshit, but you wouldn't let that show. The Professor takes this in and the turns to you, and tells you to recount your side of the story. You glance at Doug and start "Well, I was sitting with my friends, when Doug walked by and called Jean a freak. I got mad at him and shouted at him, so he called me a dog multiple time, so I told him to leave me and my friends alone and went to sit back down- that was when Professor McCoy interfered.
Doug glares at me while the Professor frowns. He exchanged glances with the other professor who come to some sort of silent agreement. "It seems clear who is in the right. Doug, you will attend detention during lunchtime for the next two weeks-" Doug turns red and immediately storms out the office, slamming the door on his way out. Dramatic.
The Professor raises an eyebrow and turns to you "Y/N, you will be in detention after school today. I understand wanting to defend your friends, but that wasn't the way to go about it. You may leave now." You nod and turn for the door, pausing and turning back. "Professor, I'm sorry for acting out. It won't happen again." He smiles and you softly and responds "I know, Y/N. Now go, I can hear your friends thoughts from here." You giggle and walk out the door.
You practically sprint out to your friends, who are still waiting for you to come back. Jubilee grins at you and hugs you tightly "That was freaking awesome!" you blush and meekly smile at her. Everyone starts asking if you're ok, but through all the chaos you catch Jeans eye and give her a smile that she returns.
Yeah, you probably shouldn't have done that, and yeah you're fucking exhausted, but it's worth it to see the smile on their faces.
----
Late at night, you sit up straight on the couch you were lazing on and exclaim to youself "Damn Summers never gave me my fucking cookies!"
62 notes - Posted October 19, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
"You'll Have A Family"
Request: OOH X-MEN?? How about a shy gn!teen reader meeting characters of your choice for the first time and they’re all really supportive and nice :) Sorry if that’s kinda weird 😭😭 No worries if not!!
Fandom: Xmen
Mutation Explanation: Dude, imagine toothless except he's a human. R hides their wings and tail with a cloak because they dont like showing them off.
Pairings: (all platonic) Charles Xavier x gn!teen!reader, Logan Howlett x gn!teen!reader, Kurt Wagner x gn!teen!reader
A/N: what? no this wasn't requested in august wdym *sweats nervously* hope you enjoy @book-place !!! <333 (please ignore anything that doesn't make sense, not feeling the best recently so i get a pass on bullshit)
----
You walk up to the gate, hugging your cape closer to your body. The sign on the gate read 'Xavier's School For Gifted Youngsters'. Recently, your family had contacted the headmaster of the school asking if they could enrol you as soon as possible. The school had agreed, and your family had sent you off the next week- they weren't very fond of your mutation.
As you approach the front door, you can't help but overthink all the possibilities of what could happen. What if everyone hates you? What if they turn you away?Where would you go? Why couldn't you be normal-
Before you know it, you're standing in front of the door. You raise your hand to knock, and...stand there for ten minutes deciding whether or not to walk away and live in the woods for the rest of your life.
----
Inside, Charles was leaving his office as he was expecting the arrival of a new student soon. He was heading down to the common area when he heard some frantic thoughts coming behind the front door. He stopped and turned his attention to it. He moved towards the door and opened it to find the new student.
----
You blink and look down to see a man sitting in a wheelchair with a kind smile. "Hello! I'm Professor Charles Xavier, the headmaster of this school. Please, come in." You awkwardly shuffle in the door and close it behind you. Charles noticed that you have yet to take off your cloak, but he wouldn't push you to.
You look around the mansion, that you realize you'll be living in from now on. It reminded you of a tour you took in a castle when you were young-it was probably smaller than this place. Your attention is brought back to Charles as he explains that a student would be meeting you soon to take you on a tour around the mansion.
You nod slightly and rub the sleep out of your eyes, which reminds you of something your parents didn't tell the school. "Uh, sir?" He turns back to you with a small smile. "Yes? And Professor is just fine." You hum in return, and continue "I don't think my parents mentioned this to you, but I have a nocturnal sleeping pattern, so how would I attend classes?" Charles paused for a second, why wouldn't your parents mention this? Brushing the thought off, he responds "We can discuss this later in my office in more detail, but I'm sure we can work around it."
Just as he finished speaking, a teen showed up our of nowhere, scaring the shit out of you. You shriek and jump back, causing your wings to flair up in defence. The teen raised his hands up, "Uh, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to scare you!" You stood back, wings still up, and took in his appearance. He had blue skin, blue hair, yellow eyes and a blue tail thatwas swishing around. He was wearing jeans and a t-shirt with a TV show logo you didn't recognise.
Slowly, your wings lowered back down but you were still nervous. The teen awkwardly glances at the Professor before holding his hand out to shake. "My name is Kurt. What's yours?" You hesitantly shake his hand, responding quietly "Y/N L/N..." He smiles at you, and then explains how he would be giving you the tour of the mansion. You nod and bid your goodbyes to the Professor, who smiles and returns to his office.
A few hours later, Kurt has shown you where classes are, bathrooms, bedrooms, the kitchen, the common area...and you are exhausted. All you wanted to do was flop down on your bed and sleep, but the universe had other plans. Right at the end of your tour, Kurt and you ran into some of Kurts friends. They introduced themselves as Scott, Jean and Jubilee. You nod at them but say nothing in response. You all stand there for a moment before Jean suggests everyone goes outside because it's a nice day outside.
"Um... I'm actually pretty tired after travelling all night... I think I'm gonna lie down for a while." You awkwardly smile. Jean smiles at you kindly and responds "Yeah, that's chill, have a good nap!" And with that, the group were off. You stand still for a moment and then head upstairs to the bedrooms. You get there, and finally fall asleep.
----
When you wake up, you find that you've slept through dinner. You shrug off your cloak and walk downstairs, your tail dragging on the ground. You always felt more relaxed during the night time- there wasn't anyone around to judge you, and you could look at the stars in peace and quiet.
You walk down to the kitchen without getting lost- total win- and rummage around in the cupboards for some food. One of the best parts of your mutation is the fact you can see perfectly well in the dark, so you've never had to use lights during the night.
You find a packet of your favourite chips, hopping up on the counter to eat them.
Lost in your own world, you failed to notice a new arrival in the kitchen.
----
Logan walked down the hallway in the mansion, with the intention of getting some beer from the kitchen. He walked in, and noticed someone sitting on the counter. They had yellow eyes- holy shit were they glowing?- black scaly wings and tail, and scattered scales across their arms, face and legs. They had claws for hands and feet, which looked scarily sharp. What caught his eye the most, though, was that clutched in their hands were his chips.
----
"Hey kid-" The stranger didn't get to finish his sentence because you, once again, got the shit scared out of you and fell off the counter. The man tried to come and help you up but your wings shot up protectively and a fireball started in your throat. The man steps back slowly and raises his hands up in defence, "Woah, kid, I'm not gonna hurt you. 'Was just gonna say you were eatin' my chips." You continue to stare at him for a moment, trying to determine if he was telling the truth. You backed down and picked up the chips, eating them again.
The man raises and eyebrow at you, "That's mine." You narrow your eyes at him and growl, to which he rolls his eyes and breaks the lock off a cabinet beside the sink. He reaches in and pulls out a can of beer. You peer at the cabinet, curious. He notices and thinks for a moment. "You want one?" Your eyes shoot up to him and you nod immediately. He chuckles and grabs one for you too.
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91 notes - Posted October 14, 2022
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ALRIGHT I am so glad you said yes cause NO ONE wants to hear the supernatural shit that has happened to me. Some of it scares others and im like ???
The first is more supernatural then ghost. And not scary to me AT ALL. I was driving with a friend late at night. I mean like around midnight? Maybe a lil before. We are on these county backroads in the middle of the woods. It is a clear night, so the moon is high in the sky but illuminates things well. We are just talking and I may or may not be speeding :/ and I see in the distance this one light. I think, oh someone is on a motorcycle, weird time of night but go off. The light was NOT a yellow car headlight, it was similar to an LED white/blue light but was softer and had more blue (which my eyes appreciated cause fuck LED headlights). It was coming towards us pretty quick, and I slowed down as the road was narrow. There was the slightest and I mean SLIGHTEST dip in the road, not even half a millisecond, we go down and come up and it was gone. It had gotten close enough, maybe two cars away, that I thought it was emitting light like a lantern. And it had picked up speed as I slowed down to make sure we didn't run off the road. It. Was. Gone. About a minute later we came out of the woods. I was looking the entire time into these woods, and my friend had gone eerily quiet. I asked if she saw it and she had. We got out of the woods to open fields (corn i think?). There was no equipment except one lone tractor in the distance way on the right. No one around. We thought oh maybe it was further away, but it had gotten really close and had gotten bigger. We came to the end of the road and had to make a left turn because the right had no road and straight ahead was blocked, wooden signs saying things like "do not proceed, if you do at own risk" and "dead end" with someone spray painting under dead. It may not have been anything special, but there was NO ONE on the roads and there was NOTHING around, and my car couldn't have reflected cause my lights aren't blue tinted. Never seen another light like it.
The next one i was at my grandma's. Now. My grandma's family were witches. But like...into dark magic type witches. I am wrong on the terminology I do apologize, my mom forbade us to speak of it so I'm not sure what all happened, but sacrifices were involved. I was in the room I always called the office as that was where the computer had been. There was a bed and thats where I slept this time, and to be quite honest I am not sure why. I typically slept in the blue room, or my mom's old room. For whatever reason though I slept in this room that night. Now, my grandma was HIGHLY catholic. Crucifixes everywhere. Also she had a thing for clowns, but we don't mention that (if you've never woken up to staring at a clown statue its terrifying). So im in the office, dead of night, and I wake up. I felt like I was being watched and I look over and saw a shadow near the closet. I thought it was just sleep paralysis of some kind. I heard a thud and saw the crucifx fall, and I thought oh wait this is real? I went back to sleep cause I truly wasn't sure as I have vivid dreams, but if there WAS something, there was no way I was getting out of the bed (in my child mind, bed = safety). The next morning I was convinced I made it up until my grandma yelled at me for tearing down the crucifix (pls note I was a child and there was no way I could reach it as it was high on the wall). I tell her the story and she huffs and puffs and later tells me its probably her aunt who was a witch who had cursed a few people in the family and made sure to check in on them to make sure they were kind and charitable people? At least thats how child me understood it. Freaked me tf out. I refused to sleep there ever again and slept in the blue room then on. However, when I was a teen I found out that the office was originally my uncle's room. Who had passed away. And grandma talked to him frequently, to which I was told she was grieving and not in her right mind talking to someone who wasn't really there. Grandma who had always promised to look out for him and have a home for him. So who really knows what that was amiright
and finally the one at my childhood home. Creepy basement with like one light (all brick except a random wood door, which leads to nothing except an extra closet space and ANOTHER wood door). I happened to be doing laundry and was coming up the basement stairs when I heard a noise. My dumbass paused and said hello. I concluded it must of been the cat, when I felt a chill down my spine. A split second later it felt like an ice cold hand grabbed my ankle. I then heard "I'm here". Needless to say I noped out of that situation (and I've been in that basement 1000 times since and never had anything else happen)
I have more but those are my favorites to tell
oh these are GOLDEEEEEN i love this
okay the ghost car/light situation??? BIG FEAR FOR ME. i watched that one episode of supernatural far too young and now driving at night on dark empty roads gives me the absolute CREEEPS.
i can absolutely relate to all the little possible ghost encounters tho!!! i’ve learned to never respond to any sounds or anything and just silently nod like “okay cool please dont fuck with me”. as a little kid my mom said i’d always talk to the ceiling, telling her i was just “playing with my friends”. rightfully freaked her out especially when one night out of the closet she heard something say “we’re going to get her”. 😭
then there’s also the time when i’d say i was playing with a little girl and boy during bath time (i was ages 3-5??? toddler range essentially) and my mom came to find out a previous owner of the house had drowned her kids in that tub 😬 safe to say my mom didn’t enjoy any of my ‘imaginary’ friends as a kid
#tw scary#tw paranormal#tw child death#idk i’m putting tw just in case!!! that last story especially freaks me out haha there’s even more to it#thank u ily#I LIVE FOR SPOOKY SHIT#more paranormal encounters in my inbox please
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For long-time followers who may wanna read
So I’ve been more or less hiding the past three years. I mean, so has most of the rest of the world but in addition to the pandemic I’ve also been struggling to redefine my adult life and find my place in the world again. Now that things are opening up again (for real? maybe?) I’ve been feeling more emotionally ready to both take on new challenges and rediscover my old self. To go on adventures again. To go to new events. To get back into itabag making and maybe even cosplay??(!)? (if I’m ever able to afford it lol)
I kinda have been doing that for the past year on a smaller scale. But I have a couple significantly bigger events coming up on my horizon. (One in particular is a HUGE dream come true sort of thing for me that I couldn’t accomplish in Japan.) And it’s made me feel really conflicted about what I want to do with this blog.
When I was in Japan, this blog was my main outlet for sharing my various adventures. Because a lot of the time I would have no one to share them with, and seeing as I was (or in some cases, my group was) the only foreigner(s) at any event I visited, the likelihood I’d unexpectedly run into any followers of this blog was so extremely miniscule to the point where I felt safe posting most of the time.
But now that I’m in an English-speaking country, even though that chance is still fairly low it’s not impossibly low anymore. Funny or rather awful thing is, I think I’m equally if not more scared of meeting potential new friends than I am of meeting stalkers. Because I am THE absolute MASTER of destroying relationships, often before they even start.
Case and point two incidents that happened in the past year:
I was at a small, local con looking at merch in the dealer’s room. It was a dealer I had been circling all day before finally working up the courage to ask questions about the merch and make a purchase. I don’t remember what was on my mind, but I was really intently overthinking something about what I was going to buy when someone came up from behind me and complimented some of my PriPara badges pins. She was like “Oh it’s so hard to find people who like PriPara” or something like that. Fucking amazing opportunity to talk about one of my niche interests, right? But instead I panicked was just like “Oh thanks” and turned away because I wasn’t in the right headspace to handle a conversation at that time and didn’t consider until the moment was already long passed what I had done.
A few months after that I was at an arcade. I’d finished playing a game but was still sitting at the machine watching someone else play. I’m not sure which came first, but a girl came up to me to both compliment the Ruby stuff on my bag and ask me if I’d move so she could play. She was perfectly nice about it, but I was just so mortally embarrassed that I’d been caught committing a cardinal sin of Japanese arcades (sitting at a game when you’re not playing it) that I was like “Oh sorry thanks” or whatever and just RAN away as fast as possible. Fuck.
So... while I really doubt either of those two people follow this blog (if they do OH MY GOD IM SO SORRY), the idea that I might meet someone that does and if I do that I’ll absolutely ruin it is terrifying. I’m really attached to this blog but I’m not sure if it’s a good idea anymore. But I don’t really want to start over either. I guess I’ll just have to play it by ear and see what I feel comfortable with and/or quietly move some of my adventures elsewhere?
#All my life's a circle; Sunrise and sundown; Moon rolls thru the nighttime; Till the daybreak comes around.#All my life's a circle; But I can't tell you why; Season's spinning round again; The years keep rollin'#every so often when that circle comes around#i seek out improving myself and becoming better at making lasting relationships#only to burn bridges and end up right where i began#i was the most serious about it when i left japan#i even went to therapy for a while#but ultimately#i always come back around again#to trying to just accept myself the way i am#as a person who gets too overwhelmed with real world relationships#and thrives on parasocial and fictional interactions instead.........
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🌹🌼💐🌵☁️ for Avery
☀️🍁🌲🌈 for G*** and Reina
OOOOO HECK YES LETSGO
// btw im still doing these plsss theyre so fun!!
avery edition!! i say and then realize i must answer these spoiler-free oh no!!!! :')
🌹 what’s this oc’s biggest fear
terrified of her past catching up to her!!!! there's a reason she's hiding out in an abandoned house in the woods and uses a fake name for half the story and is extremely hostile towards strangers anyone that's not lucie :3 a fear that only gets compounded after tracking the main group to ensei & realizing that on top of her own past, garvith's past is also out for her blood now. downsides to harboring a war criminal god in ur body i suppose lol
🌼 what’s your favorite thing about this oc?
teen anger personified !! extremely fun to write an oc that will jump people and go for their throats at the slightest provocation and has zero qualms or bad conscience abt it. feral teeth girl Fun :3
💐 where is this oc’s favorite place to relax?
secret inner mind sanctum/the mindspace she shares with garvith (that is. ironically the ruins of nerice but it's too dark to tell for most of the story uwu) spends a lot of time spaced out resting there in body mind and soul until garvith reminds her of a nearby Presence (lucie who's been snapping her fingers in front of avery's face for the past minute) a. recuperating from A Lot Of Shit by lying on top of garvith's massive serpent body and listening to his heart beat, she could almost mistake it for her own :)
🌵 how does this oc feel about physical affection?
exactly as this emoji implies>>>>🌵<<<<< LOL she's ok with lucie hugging her and dragging her around but everyone else is at bite risk. it is partly due to her body issues and she comes around on some forms of affection (kissing, mostly, is fun it turns out) but remains quick to slip away or choose violence at a moment's notice rip
☁️ what is this oc’s clothing style like?
Oh lol has exactly one (1) style and that's wide, faded print shirts over shorts and the most fucked up sneakers you've ever seen. + the embroidered jacket lucie bought her :3>
//
no matter how much time passes avery is still my first ever fave oc at heart..... prince<3..... rest under the cut bc length babey
im gonna answer the r/g ones in conjunction bc it's what they deserve lol
☀️ does this oc make good or bad first impressions?
reina obv makes jawdropping first impressions. first true ruler the maker and god of everything and even if you don't know you can tell. regal aura that cannot be denied but depending on your disposition towards her, that part may make a terrible impression (-->JUMIE...)
NOW OTOH. you'd think gray makes terrible first impressions HOWEVER!!!!! black swan times play pretend is REAL and most times, he comes across as perfectly normal :3> knows to be nice and charming and play up his charisma & most of all has learned that people are more likely to leave you alone if you are casual abt meeting them instead of outwardly antagonistic, bc that's usually how he ends up in fights. linn always has a field day watching others fall for his social persona & loves to interrupt and make it harder on him. && rly at the end of the day, it, like everything else, comes down to his whims. catch him in a bad mood and you get exactly what you'd expect from a guy looking like he was run over by a truck 2 minutes ago
🍁 what’s this oc’s favorite genre of movies/tv shows/books/etc?
oh evil overlap here :3 reina is highly invested in anything luxurious i.e. high society theater, stage performances, etc. it captivates her but usually it's the surrounding vibes rather than the content so the actual genre does not matter at all. gray is :) much the same in which he rly only takes to reading & read he does, copious amounts of books, to take his mind off things (the pain) but he doesn't give a shit abt what the books are about. extremely offputting habit of picking up random books and start reading somewhere in the middle and abandoning them before he ever reaches the conclusion lol
🌲 what is this oc’s greatest strength and weakness?
for reina they go hand in hand and it's her damned martyr complex :') the ability to give her life and song for those she loves and the world and who/whatever else she thinks she owes.. + in conjunction with her (fading) immortality leading to worse and worse situations where she scrapes by death closer and closer. exemplified best by deciding that killing gray is her responsibility bc she tore a hole in the moons and created soulless & almost dying to the burn wounds he inflicts on her :)🔪
(DOING THEM TOGETHER IS EXTREMELY FUN HELLO)
gray's greatest strength is the fact that he is unkillable so we all have to put up with him. his biggest weakness is that he is a self-pitying pathetic loser who refuses to take responsibility for anything he's ever done (fair. but like why does he have to make it everyone else's problem h)
🌈 what does this oc like and dislike about themselves?
m. it's not so much like and dislike with reina bc of the ✨truckload of existential pressure✨ from being the first true ruler. she hates that she only ever makes mistakes, her inability to bring peace and build a better future for those she loves, how powerless she is despite being all-powerful. and.. 'like' might be the wrong word, but she is incredibly conceited abt her looks (RIGHTFULLY ma'am.. ) impeccable hair game is one of her main points of pride. which is why it sucks extra bad when she has to shave it all off post-burn wound and it never quite grows back in the same way. :^)
gray externalizes literally all his problems and emotions. if he likes anything about himself then it is Being With Linnea, and he fucking loathes being soulless. ✨suffer asshole✨
#THIS WAS SO FUN THANK UUU for both of these corners uwu#tbh i was tempted to just answer the whole list for gray on the side anyway. love 2 hate him<3#anyway more thots!!!#1- this made me rly wna draw avery again but ART BAN but know that i will drawwww#2- r/g unfortunately make a very charming high society couple going to the opera just to fuck on the back seats. sorry to say#the very height of all of this is canon masked ball. gray asking her to dance :^)))) charming mortal meets stunning ruler.. Except :)#A. OVERSHARING HOURS LOL one of these was not like the others move along nothing to see here#oc asks#askbox#raikyou#you are GOAT for asking these thanks
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An edgy ask for Celia: 2, 11, 23 please!
Thank you Dujour!!! ohh interesting questions! [last two under cut]
2, What's something about your OC that people wouldn't expect just from looking at them?
Ough... with how Celia looks now there's a lot of assumptions people make... but im gonna have to go for her struggling- for respect/power/ to just live. Celia looks like and is a powerhouse now, easily able to show of her physical strength to earn respect, but that only really started when she was in her 20s, when she was a teenager her and Conficcare were at the bottom of the social ladder and felt it- Celia is such an effective and terrifying fighter now because she was so used to having to do everything to magnify her little strength. not only that but her sharp ability to understand people comes from being in desperate situations and also being deemed so little a threat no one cared about what she saw, whereas everyone was a threat to her so she was always hyper-aware.
she actively encourages people thinking shes always been this good, that she ascended to the position of power she holds with a perfect balance of hard work and skill that was easy compared to what she actually did, but the truth is she spent almost a decade clawing for every little thing and it affects her in every way. [and she still struggles! she just hides it with confidence and intimidation]
11, What is your OC's weapon of choice? Have they ever actually used it?
In terms of actual weapons she regularly uses, all manner of knifes [fixed blade & switchblade depending on the situation] as well as guns a few times [shes a snob about them. 'less personal, lack of skill blah blah' shes wrong-ish but petty about it even if she wont avoid them if they are needed] and whatever heavy thing she can hit someone with.
She would probably say her weapon of choice is a larger bladed weapon like a machete [axe has too small a blade and shes not rural enough] but in truth she prefers using her fists. unless someone else has a weapon that's escalating the fight she will always rely on her own body before anything else.
the technical answer would probably be ball bearings of all things. small, easy to get your hand on, and combined with Human Algebras powers of force it creates a lot of tiny projectiles moving at fast speeds, much easier than propelling something larger
[Bonus answer for when she was younger: Hockey stick. im not sure if americans have non-ice hockey but over here girls hockey is not a normal sport its a blood sport. the sticks are easy to pretend are for practice, and the nail polish method makes them practically indestructible as well as hurt like hell, and the curved end can easily be used to snag on clothing or ankles to even more damage. its long so Celia can use lever principles, and is just all around nasty in a match fight [same difference- its not technically a contact sport but there were hell of a lot more injuries and fowl play from us than the boys rugby] so its the perfect weapon for her to use as a kid]
23, What emotion is the hardest for your OC to process? How about express?
ough... i feel like ive thought about this before but here's my answer now: regret. actually that's not right because shes actually really good at processing it, if by that you mean justifying her actions and then sweeping the feelings under the rug.
debt. what she owes people. guilt. the people she did fuck up with. Guilt at the effect her actions had on the people she cares about. she hates it being brought up. she may be good and not letting herself regret her actions, but she sure as fuck will always feel guilty, no matter what happens or how much time has passed.
Express? my first answer would be love. not even just in how she struggles to express it, but how even when she does in her own way, she never feels like she can express the depth and sincerity of that love. she loves few people but those she does she loves the shit out of for her whole life. honestly if i made one of her friends betray her [and not just like Elena leaving to pursue a better life] it would be the worth thing i could do to her. no matter how many times she whispers or laughs i love you and again and again show it through actions, she will always worry that she isn't doing enough
#gold & silver#celia#the weapons one was very fun!#shes single handedly funding the local diy shop with her bulck orders of ball bearings#and there is so much to say about peoples wrong assumptions about her but how much she tries to hide just how much she struggled is the mos#obvious#her guilt complex and constant anxiety about not showing love enough....
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Gaining my soul=More energetic control. Gaining your soul is to see the truth of reality. I see from God’s viewpoint I see reality’s easy to control. I’m powerful because my self-validation feels authentic(chills). Like it’s tangible validation. I understand how my power works in my imagination I get a clear visual artwork of it. I’m unprecedentedly powerful it leaves them speechless. I trust my self-validation that shit strong. I’m naturally fearless to trust myself and what I have to say to myself. I’m naturally fearless to trust myself and what I have to say to myself just as much as I trust myself when I readily give advice to others(chills). Im an internal unrivaled trailblazer. I’m rigged to be on the right path. The unknown is rigged to give me all I desire. It’s so much fun validating myself dawg. It’s so tangibly fulfilling validating myself dawg. Every single sign I see holds potent Magic in it(chills). Every single sign I see holds unbelievably potent Magic. That’s why signs are terrifyingly undeniable to me. Terrifying=Disney Magic Stan Lee Magic type shi Indisputable(chills). Rubbing my fingers together only gets more and more unbelievably and potently magical. My romance is coming OMG!!!!!!!!!!!!!@11:11. NO WAY. 11:11 the number of romance🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹✨✨✨✨✨✨💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗JAWDROPPED!!!!!!(chills) Internal accomplishments are as equally impressive as external ones. I got myself out of Hell I can do anything now. I’m that bitch. I’m a badass dayummm. It’s all about me winning. I’m in heaven now DAYUMMMMMMMMMMMM!!!! I DID IT YO!!!!!!!!! IM PROUD OF MYSELF I DID IT!!!!!!! I DID IT I ACHIEVED!!!!!!!!!!!!!? My past self looking at me in awe LIKE YEAH BRUH U SEE THAT OF U LOOKING AT THAT FOOT RIGHT SAYING ULL MAKE IT TO THE OTHER SIDE WELL BITCH GUESS YOURE ON THE OTHER SIDE YOU DID IT BITCH!!!!!! YOU ENERGETICALLY QUANTUM LEAPED NOW YOU A ZILLIONAIRE SUPERSTAR CONTROLLING REALITY LEFT AND RIGHT LIKE IT’S NOTHING LIKE YOU DO THIS SHIT FOR FUN EVERYDAY FOR THE REST OF YOUR IMMORTAL LIFE OMGMGMGMG!!!!! THIS IS YOUR REALITY!!!!!! Unhinged=Boundless(chills). I control from within. I control reality internally(chills this is a powerful one). Theyre all wack compared to the shit I have. They all marvel at me in awe. Like damn they all gon hype me up like I’m STAGGERINGLY GOATED the way they hyping up chris brown (chills) OMGGGGF and Paige bueickers. Every movement I make is as if I’m having utmostest supreme sex. Mesmerizing. I’m very in control of my energy. Laika doesn’t even try to dim my light. Laika is not threatened others want me. Im always in the spotlight and Laika is more than fine with it in fact she relishes off of it. It turns her on that the spotlight is on me. And it turns me on like crazy for her. My partner my lover who isn’t my opp DAYUMMMMMM. WOW THATS NEW! Laika fr on my side in absolutely every aspect of the way. Wow….. so fluid. Seamless. Zero guilt. Zero fear.(chills). It’ll be heaven on earth with Laika(chills). Geez. Laika’s fr coming. Nah it’s inevitable as my birthday dawg. I’m fr nailed to seeing Laika come to life (chills). Dawg. I’m ready to be mindblown OMG! I’m grateful the days are passing by faster and faster getting me closer to all of my desires!!!!<33333(chills)I KNOW LAIKA’S MISSINNNNN MEEEEEE<33333333(chills). My energy is tangible validation. Laika reminds me of a warrior (chills). Geez. I saw visions of her I saw how she looks like geez she’s stunning. It’s just. I gotta find an art that may resemble. Laika got samurai energy(chills). Laika hair are samurai hairstyles(chills) OMG THATS SO SEXY. WOW Emily’s heart.. I can feel it.. her sadness over me is very profound(chills). The time chamber shortens everything by over an antonellamania number of years of times. Laika and I make the bestselling movies dance together different stories each time. That’ll make our love story so unbelievably supreme. Laika and I are both are so undefeatingly strong 💍. My intention know what the fuck I mean. My Magic and power knows when to dumb me down to keep me at ease. I love my life now.
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I'm having a crisis. And im going to talk about wanting to die.
Know first that no matter how scary this post may be, I've moved past seriously attempting to unalive. I promise I have a support group, and this is not anything like that.
It is 5 a.m. when I started writing this. I woke up crying, and now im worried I'm gonna be having an existential crisis for the next few days til I can get my head on straight.
I. Am.... turning 24 in less than 3 months. And I am freaking the fuck out about it. I woke up with my ears ringing in pain, my joints aching, and my stomach and head killing me. Yes, I did it to myself, but that's not the point.
I realized, now that I am going to be.... living past my 'expiration date', that I have to live inside this body. And to live inside this body is painful.
Now that my life plans don't stop at 24, I don't know what to do.
For the longest time, it was: who cares if - - - -, I'll be dead at 24.
And now, that's not the case.
Now, I have people in my life who love me, and that would not survive hearing I died. I've never had that before, and I've never had people to live for before. It's terrifying.
This is both the best and the worst feeling in the world... to know that I get to live for them and that I'm not allowed to die.
Now that my plans include growing old, which is such a WEIRD fucking thought for me. I mean fuck, I've tried to die and begged for death for so many years. I can still feel the pain of my kidneys shutting down, and now I take daily vitamins to stay 'healthy'????
FUCK
No one ever talks about how FUCKING ODD life is after ';'
They just tell you.... fuck, they don't tell you. People have always avoided talking about this. They just talk about how 'greateful they are to be alive' and all the bullshit about how great life is!
And it is, but it's also, it is terrifying. I go to work and talk and smile to people in passing glances. I have a regular, schmegular life, and in the back of my mind when having a conversation about something so insignificant like "do you like pineapple on your pizza?" While I'm thinking about how I thought about walking into traffic that morning.
YES I DO LIKE PINEAPPLE ON MY PIZZA, AND I CAN EAT WHAT THE FUCK EVER I WANT NOW BECAUSE ME AND MY BODY DESERVE GOOD THINGS!
...I'm looking at all the scars on my body and... idk man, I don't hate them anymore, but I wish I had been kinder to myself. When I think about making new ones I just have some water and a granola bar instead.
Such a stupid fucking internal dialog too 'hey you wanna do something bad to your body?' "Nah, lets have a snack instead" lmao
And 90% of the time, it actually works!
I love my support group, and I know I stress them out. I never thought I'd be the kind of person to say they were loved. I mean, my friends are flying into town for my "congrats on beating your record for consecutive days alive" birthday party 😂 and ik its gonna make a lot of people uncomfortable, but its not for them. I like living for me.
Anyways... Now that my plans include growing old, I have to take care of my body. And I'm so fucking excited to grow old that I can't even express it in words. I get to live and watch my friends live. I can have a family and make it as big as I want, fill it with all the love and kindness the world never showed me. I want that. And I am so excited to experience the days as they come. I'm ready to be the kindness for others that no one was for me.
I still think about it all the time. And sometimes, it's really hard to push those thoughts away. Some days, it still feels like I'm drowning. Some days, I think how easy it'd have been if the thoughts had won.
And other days, I get to smile at strangers, or have a yummy drink, or feel the warm Sun on my skin in the cool autumn breeze, or eat sushi, or gossip with someone that loves me. Hell, even getting to write the damn stupid vampire fanfics is a good day for living, lol.
I am so excited to help other people live, too...
But also, fuck. Now I have to take care of myself??? It's not just "dang, i got tenitus?" *shrugs in suicide*
GAH
But also, yay. Lol.
Life is so fucking weird man. But it's good to be alive. 🩷
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sex education 2.0
pairing: college!au, jungkook x reader
summary: "Are you calling me boring?" Jungkook gasps dramatically, looking at you dumbfounded and visibly offended. You roll your eyes, taking a napkin and leaning forward to wipe the crumbs of garlic bread on his lips.
"First of all, don't talk with your mouth full, you pig. Second of all," you stop to take a sip of your coke, aware of Jungkook's expectant eyes on you. "A little, yeah."
wordcount: 9k
genre: smut - angst(? not rlly - fluff, like tons bc im a slut for fluff
rated: m (duh!2.0)
warnings: alcohol and weed consumption, just jk and tae being bros having bro convos, switch!reader, switch!jk, but mostly dom!jk, dirty talk, glimpses of poorly written bdsm, reader being a jealous and ‘insecure little bitch’ (her words, not mine),slapping (dont worry i tried to make it funny), how i met your mother spoilers (sorry im a gemini i spoil shit), spanking, degradation kink, back at it again with the spit kink, slight anal play, beware!of jungkook being a sweetheart, a lil mean at the end but a sweetheart nontheless.
read sex education here!
Three months of being in an actual commitment with Jeon Jungkook, your brother's partner in crime since the young age of five and, therefore, a common denominator throughout your childhood and teenage years, has proven to you a few things you never knew you would discover about the boy himself: Jeon Jungkook is definitely not what you thought him to be.
You thought growing up with him would've been enough telltale about everything that made Jungkook be, well, Jungkook. He wasn't as immature as you had believed prior to the beginning of your relationship, he was funnier than you remembered -although maybe you found him funnier now that Taehyung wasn't in the picture to interfere with infantile inside jokes that you never were able to grasp-, and smarter than he had ever let you known before. Although you're sure the main reason his grades had started to improve was solely you and the way you rewarded him by opening your legs everytime he passed an exam.
But above all, if there was something that had truly surprised you about Jeon Jungkook was the fact that he was truly an absolutely and undeniably softie.
You loved it. Loved the random scribbled love notes he sometimes left in your backpack before kissing you goodbye to leave for his own class, loved the Spotify playlists he made exclusively just for you -with genres that varied between sappy and romantic and wanting to tear your 'wet ass pussy' in two-, loved the late night texts filled with emojis telling you how much he missed you when both of you were too busy doing assignments and studying to see each other -even if it hadn't even been 48 hours since you last saw each other-. You loved how careful and sweet and thoughtful he was. You really did.
But.
"Are you calling me boring?" Jungkook gasps dramatically, looking at you dumbfounded and visibly offended. You roll your eyes, taking a napkin and leaning forward to wipe the crumbs of garlic bread on his lips.
"First of all, don't talk with your mouth full, you pig. Second of all," you stop to take a sip of your coke, aware of Jungkook's expectant eyes on you. "A little, yeah." His mouth falls open and you supress a laugh. You really shouldn't be enjoying this so much, but there's something about Jungkook's reaction to his ego being bruised and that terribly adorable pout on his face that just makes your insides tingle with joy.
"What do you mean? I've had plenty of girls in bed before you, like a whole lot, and none of them have ever called me boring! They loved this adventurous and fun dick, alright? Why do you think-" you raise a brow, scrutinizingly. It still amazes you how with just a simple expression and no words needed, you can make all color from Jungkook's face banish and how quick he is to reach for your hand across his bed. "But I only love youuuu, and you're the best thing that has ever happened to me and my dick like, baby, have I mentioned how head over heels I'm for you?"
"Only like five times today." rolling your eyes again, you pull your hand from his to toy with the peperoni piece on your slice of pizza. Jungkook swallows the lump in his throat, he was starting to get truly concerned now. You couldn't possibly...?
"Are you not satisfied? I mean, do I not make you feel good or...?" there's clear worry in his voice and that makes you meet his eyes, shaking your head hurriedly. Now it's you who take his hand in yours.
"No! No, babe. I love sex with you! I love everything you do to me, I love how you treat me, I love how you make me feel. I'm a hundred percent satisfied, I swear, It's just..." you sigh, dropping your gaze to rub slow and reassuring circles to the ink adorning his skin. "All I'm saying is... I may also want to experience what all those girls have experienced with you, y'know... the not so vanilla stuff. But you always seem to be scared to try new things with me, and I don't know if it's because of m-"
"Baby," Jungkooks soft voice calls out to you, removing the pizza box in between the two of you to slide closer to you on the mattress. He craddles your face with his fingers, tilting your chin up to make eye contact with you. "_____, don't say that. I just don't ever want to cross any boundaries. I don't want to hurt you or do anything you might not like or regret later, you know that, right?" placing a small kiss on your lips, you hum in content nodding your head yes.
"I know that." you pull him for another brief kiss, oddly not caring about the faint taste of garlic and spice on them because that's what love will do to you. "But what if I do want you to hurt me? What if I want you to fuck my mouth with no mercy until I cry and slap my face after you've cum all over it while you call me a slut?" you pause, eyes meeting his through your eyelashes. "Or viceversa."
It's not that Jungkook is afraid. Because Jungkook is afraid of nothing in this world. He will murder any spider in his way, he will throw a punch to anyone who denies mint chocolate ice cream as the superior ice cream flavour -and he knows that means he will have to literally fight like the entire population on planet earth-, and he will Rey Mysterio you if you ever discredit or deny his incredible skills playing Overwatch.
Jeon Jungkook prides himself in being fearless in every aspect of his life. Except when it comes to you.
So yeah, maybe he was a little afraid. Because hearing you use the words 'choke', 'slap' and 'slut' in the same sentence did things to him that he didn't deem possible considering none of you were newbies anymore to intimicy. You have been together for three months, for God's sake, but you still made his cock twitch like the first day and he's sure in twenty years you'll have the exact same effect on him.
He didn't want his most primal instincts to overpower the respect and love he'd harboured for you since you were kids because at the end of the day, one, you were still his best friend's little sister, two, he appreciated you too much to ever cross any lines, and three, as cliché as it sounded, you were nothing compared to the girls he had been with previously. What he feels towards you cannot be compared to anything he had experienced before.
And fuck, was he in a predicament. Because you made him weak in his knees for you and you were not even aware of it. You were not aware of how badly he has wanted to explore and take things way further, way out of both his and your comfort zones. But he's terrified. He's terrified because all he wants is to to take care of you and what if he fails at the one thing he's swore to himself? What if he lets the darkest side of him consume him and at the same time consume you? What if he does actually hurt you, not just psichologically but also physically?
He would never be able to forgive himself. And neither could Taehyung.
And that, was also tormenting him.
Taehyung seemed fine with the two of you dating -or at least that blow to Jungkook's face seemed to ease things between them-, but Jungkook is not dumb and has felt his best friend slowly distancing himself.
Sure, they were still best friends and will ever will. Taehyung is loyal to Jungkook and Jungkook is loyal to Taehyung. Has been that way since they were five and that will not change just because Jungkook's caught feelings for his little sister.
But the phonecalls were not as often and not as long as they used to be; in rare occasions Jungkook could sense a certain type of awkwardness between them that really had never happened in their friendship, and sometimes Taehyung's jokes seemed to hold more truth than lightheartedness.
And to top it all off, Jungkook's dilemma regarding you was eating him alive and, usually he would turn to Taehyung for girl advice, only to later realize he was also frightened of doing that.
But a Friday night at 2 a.m, Jungkook decides he can't take it anymore.
"Sup, man." Taehyung's voice answers Jungkook's phone call on the second ring, like he always does.
"Hey, bro." Jungkook clears his voice, suddenly feeling self conscious. "Are you busy?"
"I don't know," his friend seems to be chewing on what Jungkook bets is red Skittles -yes, only the red ones- because he just knows him too well. "Are you busy still fucking my little sister?"
Taehyung chuckles at his own joke, but Jungkook doesn't. He knows there's no malice, but he can't help to think there might be. He settles for a sigh. "Yeah." he can hear some shuffling on the other side and the clicking of a computer mouse. Jungkook would also bet he was playing Among Us and he would lie if he said he wasn’t disappointed he hadn't called him to play with him. "Y'know what, it's not even important, I'll just call y-"
"Come on, man. You haven't even laughed at that and you usually laugh at everything I say even when no one else does." Taehyung swirls in his chair, his attention fully focused on his best friend. "Seriously, what's bothering you." Jungkook takes a deep breath, rubbing the side of his face.
"It's about _____."
"_____? As in, my little sister? Who you're fucking?"
"Tae, dude-"
"Okay, okay, I'm sorry. Go on." Taehyung stiffles a laugh and waits patiently for Jungkook to continue.
"She um... Fuck, I hope this isn't weird, dude. I really do. She wants to like... rough it up in the bedroom, I guess? And I just... I don’t know... I'm terrified dude." There's silence filling the gap between Taehyung and Jungkook and Jungkook almost feels like throwing up.
"You're coming to me for sex advice... about my little sister?"
"I know, dude but... Who else I'm supossed to talk to? Jimin? Hoseok?" Jungkook sits up on his bed, an ugly knot beginning to form in his stomach. "I mean, you're my best friend," Jungkook swallows again, voice cracking. "...right?"
It's Taehyung's turn to sigh after a few seconds before he replies. "Forever and always, bro." His tone settles Jungkook's uneasiness. There's nothing but honesty in it. "Listen, Guk. I really don't know what kind of advice to give you because, literally, ew. But I do know my sister, and if that's what she wants and she's communicated with you about it, it’s because she trusts you. And I trust you more than anyone in my life. So there you go, man."
Relief washes all over Jungkook's body and he lays back on the bed again, heart not beating as hard as it was a few seconds ago.
"Thanks, dude." Jungkook smiles. "Sorry for calling you so late."
"No problem, bro." Taehyung smiles as well, swirling his chair back to his computer screen. A weight of his own being lifted. "Among Us next time?"
"Yeah, I'll let you know. Good night, bro."
Taehyung calls Jungkook's name before he can hang up. "Hey, man?"
"Yeah, man?"
There's a pause between them and then Taehyung speaks. "I love you, man."
Jungkook supresses the threat of tears about to spill because he knows Taehyung would try to bruise his other other eyebrow if he ever found out. Or hug him to death. Or both.
"I love you too, bro."
"This reminds me of the first time you gave me a blowjob." Jungkook chuckles, watching you get down on your knees between his spread thighs, make up free and sporting a similar low messy bun as that time he's mentioning, except this time you're wearing one of his hoodies engulfing your smaller frame. Proof that this time around, you're exclusively his and no one else’s.
"You mean the blowjob of your life." you giggle as you reach out to pull down his sweatpants, deligthed to see he decided on not wearing any underwear. Your spit on the back of your hand and immediately wrap it around the base of his rock hard cock while his own darts out to push the strands falling down your face behind your ear, heart eyes emoji looking down at you looking up at him.
Your tongue swirls around the tip timidly, swallowing the drop of precum oozing as he sighs heavily and lovingly. "Every blowjob you give me is the blowjob of my life." he unties your hair from the band holding it together because he prefers his fingers to be the hair tie, prefers to be the one to guide the bobbing of your head up and down his dick.
You hum in appreciation against him, cherry balmed lips wrapping fully around the head of his cock and he hums back. "Love seeing you on your knees for me with your pretty mouth stuffed, fuck." You take him deeper, closing your eyes.
Your hand moving accordingly to your mouth and your panties already wet, clinging to your folds. It's really not your fault Jungkook is the most delicious eye candy on earth and how fast can the mere sight of him make your pussy lips quiver. You slurp around the head obscenely , a moan of yours mixing with a moan of his. "Hands on your back."
You obligue, removing your hands and growing excited at the dominating low tone his voice exerts. The grip he has on your hair tightens and controls your motions, pushing you further down his dripping shaft until your nose hits his pubic bone. He holds you there, his own eyes closing shut and his dick twitching insde your mouth. A thrust of his hips make you gag and has one of your hands flying to tap his leg two times, letting him know you were in need for air.
He releases you, pulling you back until his cock is pulsating in front of you. He looks down at you, both breathless but the difference is you look so messy. Eyes watery, chest moving heavily and saliva leaking from your lips.
Yeah, there was a reason Jungkook hasn't been like this with you before. The sight of you submitting completely and looking so nasty was too much for him to handle. He might never want to see you any other way than this.
"Isn't this what you wanted, huh?" the free hand that had been supporting his weight on the matress grasps your face harshly, making you lock eyes with him.
"I thought you wanted me to choke you with my cock like a little whore?" you nod your head eagerly, unable to form words. Your pussy throbs, prompting you to rub your thighs to get some sort of relief as his thumb smears the spit adorning your lips. You're quick to envelop it in the warmth of your mouth, an involuntary moan leaving your throat. "Such a pretty slut," he lets his cock slap against your cheek, removing his thumb to move his hand back to his previous position. "Open again."
You do, his length entering your mouth again -that you gladly accept- and then he's shoving you down by your hair. "Shit, gonna fuck your mouth so good..."
And he does, not holding back anymore, his hand thrusting your head along his shaft until your throat tightens around him repeteadly, struggling for breath. But you take it, you take the aggresiveness and the degradation because fuck, you've been waiting for so long to know what this feels like. To have Jungkook be mean and have this type of control and power over you and you're enjoying it a bit too much.
"F-fuck, I'm gonna cum, leave your mouth open." he releases on your tongue, not able to look away from the image of you with tears falling down your eyes and mouth drenched with him and your spit, some of his cum staining down your chin and the corners of your lips that he gathers with his thumb and pushes back into your mouth. He groans, watching you swallow all of it like a good girl, your tongue grazing around his digit for the remainings, gaze not leaving his. "Let me grab my phone real quick, I need to take a picture of this."
You were definitely not the jealous type.
You prided yourself on being able to recognize when your behaviours were due to your own insecurities and removing all sorts of feelings of uncertainty from your mind. You never liked toxic patterns or the glamorization of them and your relationship with Jungkook was proof. You knew relationships were supossed to be based on blind trust and faith in your partner and yours definitely reciprocated in the same way.
"So can anybody tell me why Eunha is basically all over my boyfriend right now?" you wish you could blame your state on Hoseok's weed, who's sitting on the left side of the couch right next to you at the frat party. You really wish you could have an explanation for the way your heart tugged in such a weird way and your stomach swirled dangerously until almost making you nauseous. You really tried to blame your overthinking on the joint you had just passed to your friend.
You knew it was bound to happen someday, especially considering Jungkook had always been a ladies' man and the kind of attraction from both men and women he was able to manifest, willing or unwillingly. You just never thought it would happen so soon and in such way that made you clench your fists so tight and your nails dig into the palm of your hands so painfully.
"I mean, they did have like a long fling a few years ago, didn't they?" Seulgi, sitting on your right, chimes in.
That was true. Longer than most flings Jungkook ever had before you.
"Yeah, before she dumped him." Hoseok adds.
Your eye twitches and your jaw contracts. Because that, was also true, and it was mostly what was bothering you so much.
Had it been Jungkook the one to move away from his situationship with Eunha like with most girls, you wouldn't have such a problem with the way she's shamelessly leaning towards him from across the room. Or the way she's twirling a strand of her hair between one of her fingers while battling her lashes. Or the way she's hysterically laughing at whatever he was saying, because your boyfriend was funny, but he was not that funny.
You were not the jealous type, and Jungkook definitely wasn't giving you any reason to be, because as coquettish as the blonde was being or as provocatively as she was pushing her tits into his arm, he politely keeps his distance and tries to also engage with Jimin in conversation, leaving her pouting. But that wasn't enough to not make you start seriously questioning your feminist ethics right now.
"Wait, you're not jealous, are you?" Seulgi turns to you, offering you the joint -how long had you been focusing your attention on Jungkook and Eunha to not realize it was your turn again to smoke?-. You take it, hesitating between answering right away or taking a hit before doing that. You were never a good liar. You look between your two friends who are looking back at you with their eyebrows raised.
"I-" you close your mouth and run your fingers through your hair. "Maybe? I don't know what I'm feeling and I don't like it one bit."
"Aw, babe." Seulgi squeezes your knee, eyes showing you sympathy. "Jealousy is a natural response to any relationship."
"I know..." you take the joint in your hand, taking a long drag before letting the smoke out. "I just don't want to sound like an insecure little bitch!" you whine. "I don't want to be like 'Oh, why would Jeon Jungkook, a God of the Olympus, dare give his attention to a peasant as unworthy as me!?' Like no, he's just a man. A little less mediocre than most but a man nontheless. I'm not going to doubt myself or other women just because he's more beautiful than most, and hotter, and funnier and has a massive co-" you notice you're getting carried away by the look of disgust in Hoseok's face and Seulgi trying to hold back a laugh.
"Anyways, he's lucky to have me. We're both lucky to have each other but sometimes I feel like I might be the luckiest out of the two. And seeing Eunha looking so pretty and throwing herself at him is triggering me because..." you pause to take a deep breath and lounch back on the couch. "What if he realizes one day that I'm luckier than he is and he could be luckier with someone else?"
There's, ironically, a long silence. Ironically because the sound of Travis Scott making the walls tremble is anything but, until Hoseok speaks.
"I think you feel that way because you still haven't seen how that boy looks at you, _____." and then he motions to the spot from across the room you had been observing for too long, the spot where Jungkook is now glancing at you after noticing your detectable distress, with a frown on his features.
'You okay?' he mouthes, his fist raising in the air in a thumbs up, questioningly.
Your heart jerks, and not out of bitterness or envy caused by a girl trying to get your boyfriend's attention. Because his attention is always entirely on you, no matter how many feet are separating the two of you.
'Yes' you mouth back, with a nod of your head and an encouraging smile that has formed itself on your face. He beams as well at you. Mouthes an 'I love you' and puckers his lips in a flying kiss that makes you giggle. You mimic him, your heart tight against your chest.
Hoseok is right. You have nothing to worry about.
Jungkook is in love with you. Sometimes, he thinks, he's too in love with you.
"Can't believe I'm letting you do this."
"Can't believe you're such a pussy."
Jungkook huffs in annoyance. He would smack your ass right now if his hands weren't restricted by a scarf of yours he had never seen before to your bedpost. He would also send you a mean look if his eyes weren't covered by the only tie he owned and had so generously lent to you.
When you mentioned you wanted to try this, he expected you to be in this position. Not the other way around.
He's sprawled on your bed, only his boxers covering him as your legs straddle his waist and you tighten the hold of the scarf around his wrists sternly. He winces and manages an 'Hey!' He knows you're only wearing your panties because he can't feel anything else and he's felt one of your naked tits brushing his face as you tied him up. He also tried to catch one of your nipples in his mouth as a form of punishment, to no use because you swiftly backed away from his attempt.
"I've never been a bottom before, this is new for me." he says. He really doesn't mind any of this. He's just not used to it. He knows he'd be lying if he said it didn't turn him on a little bit, even if he'd rather be the one to have you completely unmoving and naked beneath him. Especially now that you're skimming your nails up and down his torso.
"Mm, good to know." your lips follow the path your fingers created, from the center of his chest up, moving steadily and tracing soft kisses over his flesh.
"Don't worry. I'll be gentle." you croon, dragging your tongue from the pulse of his neck to his earlobe, nails scraping lightly over his left nipple. Jungkook shudders, air sucked in through his teeth as his mouth opens on its own. Taking advantage of this, you place a kiss on the corner of his lips before slipping your tongue inside.
He answers simultaniously, his own tangling with yours, swallowing each other's moans. Your hips set a slow peace, clothed cad core griding over the length poking between your thighs. His hips move unvoluntarily, trying to find some sort of friction to make up for the fact that his hands are unavailable to knead your ass and pull you closer, if that was even possible.
You separate from him, raising on your knees. Jungkook whines in protest, hips buckling up from the mattress to try to meet yours again.
"Jungkook, I'm serious, stay still!"
"I take it back." his voice shaky and hands straining against the tight hold the scarf you tied around has on them. "I don't like this. Untie me so I can fuck you, babe." he complains. You sit on his tiny waist, your thighs trying to stop his movements.
You take a moment to assess him. He looks too beautiful for his own good: hair courtaning his forehead, biceps bulging and abs flexing. You can't see his eyes but you know they might be glassy. You bite your lip to supress a whine of delight. You almost consider doing as he says. Almost.
But you mantain your ground. Your jealousy from the other night had been crawling slowly from within these past few days and since you couldn't take it out on Jungkook any other way because he really wasn't to blame, you figured you'd try something new to punish him and let some of your supressed anger vanish.
Twisting your body back to pull down his boxers, not all the way, just enough to have his cock springing free from the confines of the fabric and slapping against your asscheeks.
"Has toxic masculinity seriously polluted your brain so much you can't take this seriously?" you fall forward, one of your hands balancing you beside his head as the other wraps around his neck, a tentative hold not yet to constrict his breathing.
He gulps, his body's tense and his Adam's apple is prominent under your touch. All he can see is black but he'd do anything to watch your pretty tits bouncing in front of his face. "I don't like this conversation either." he pouts.
"Then why are you so hard?" you grin, holding yourself back from laughing as he hesitates for an answer. You lean closer, mouth against his ear as you whisper. "I'm so wet right now, I could take you just like this. No lubrication at all and my pussy would just swallow your dick." Feeling his girth still between your ass flutter, clearly affected by the sultry tone of your voice. You remove your hand from his neck seeing as he has stopped moving obediently. Reaching back, you slide your panties to the side and align your entrance to the head of his leaking cock.
"Fuck, baby, please~" Jungkook's pleads fills the air, hips desperately back in motion and sliding just a few inches inside your drenched heat. The warmth envoles him instantly, your pussy pulsates around him and neither of you can't help the in synch groans tearing from your throats.
"Just the tip" you lick your lips, your voice betraying you as you resist the urge to glide the rest of his lenght inside your quivering core.
"Just the tip, my ass."
Out of sudden, Jungkook is swiftly lifting his hips from the matress, sinking all the way in. You cry as your body jumps forward, face hidden in the juncture of Jungkook's sweaty neck. His thick cock stretches you out as nice and deep and perfectly as he always does. You mewl. This was not supossed to happen at all.
"See? This is what you really wanted." you can hear the chuckle threatening to spill from his lips, anger starting to boil inside of you again.
Regaining a little bit of your lost control, you lift yourself on your trembling knees and sit back again, the tip of his dick hitting your cervix. You groan in unision, placing your hands on the hard planes of his chest and steadying yourself to try to reclaim your dominance. Finding it troublesome, because Jungook is set on having it his own way, his thrusts meeting yours in perfect synch.
You really shouldn't feel your climax approaching so soon but somehow battling for control while bickering with Jungkook is about to send you over the edge and that's making you even more annoyed.
"I swear to God, Jungkook. If you don't stop moving and shut the fuck up..." your murmur through gritted teeth, jaw slackened and eyes fluttering shut.
"What?" he spats, breathing rugged and voice coarse. "If I don't shut up, you'll wha-"
The sound of a sharp smack echoes inside your room and Jungkook's movements freeze on the spot. His head is turned to the side from the impact, and a faint print of your fingers is adorning his already stinging cheek. None of you mutter anything for a few seconds, until concerned words start to rush out of you.
"Ohmygod, Jungkook, I-"
"Did you just slap me?" Jungkook is unmoving, his mouth agape and you can picture the incredulous expression his eyes might be oozing. "Baby, what the fuck?!" You're mortified. Your hands cover your mouth and your eyes, wide open, stare down at him although he can't stare at you back.
"Babe, I don't know why I did that, you wouldn't stop talking and I know that's not an excuse but it-"
"It was fucking hot." a breathy laugh in disbelief leaves his chest. Your forehead creases, hands falling down to your chest to try to steady your incessant heartbeat. His tongue darts between his pearly teeth, a smug smirk on his features. An eyebrow of yours raises as you size him up, the realization that his body is completely motionless now hitting you.
Lurging forward, you pinch his jaw between your fingers, your hips carry on their grinding on their own accord. He releases a raspy moan, your walls clenching around him as another hit strikes his cheek, softer this time.
"You gonna be good to me?" you mutter against his lips. He nods slowly, his mouth salivating as your hips swirl on top of him. He blindly tries to reattach his mouth to yours, but you dodge him, going for the skin of his clavicle instead. "Can I fuck you slow like this until you're filling me with your cum?" He squirms when he feels you sucking a pretty purple bruise on his flesh, your cunt dropping all the way down his cock, leisurly grinding against his pelvic bone, looking yourself to find some relief to your clit.
"Ah!" his head tilts back, back slighlt arching as you soothe the mark on his neck with your tongue. "That m-might be s-sooner than you think, babe" he admits timorously, swallowing the lump in his throat, the veins on his neck on full display.
You sigh in content because, thankfully your orgasm is also closer than he thinks it is. "M-me too-" you gasp, your face buried on his shoulder, letting your fingers brush his ebony hair, nails gently scrapping his scalp as you keep the tortuous movements of your hips against his, his girth hitting that spot just right everytime until you feel the knot in your tummy finally snapping. "C-cum, J-Jungkook, I-m-"
Jungkook doesn't need to be told twice because he has been holding back from it for a while now, not really willing to admit he was enjoying this as much as he was. With a thrust of his own fused with the way your pussy is tightening around him it's enough to send him over the edge, an unpredicted cry emanating from his vocal chords harmonizing with your own, his whole body tensing as your walls milk every single drop of his cum.
For several minutes you stay just like that. Jungkook's hands still tied, blindfold still on, his mouth still agape as his chest rises and falls until his breathing becomes steady again. And you, on top, your fingers tangled in his dark locks, your breath fanning against his neck and his release dripping down your thighs. You stay like that until your body starts shaking with uncontrollable laughter.
Jungkook tilts his head towards yours, eyebrows furrowing and eyes still covered.
"What was that noise?" you manage through your giggle fit. "'Aaah!'" You've never made a noise like that before, I can't- it was so funn-"
Even while still being strained and blindfolded and with you making fun of him, a loopsided goofy smirk starts making an appearence on Jungkook's features.
Fancy dinner parties were never your thing.
Wearing heels that were too high -specifically to try to match Jungkook's height-, a new expensive dress that you were surely going to return as soon as the event was over because you definitely could not afford it and socializing with Jungkook's clique was definitely not the way you envisioned your Saturday night going.
At least Jungkook had barely been able to keep his hands for himself at the sight of you wrapped in emerald green silk and lace. But even that couldn't make you feel less uncomfortable and out of place.
Yugyeom, one of Jungkook's friends, had definitely more money than your boyfriend had previously let you know. Apparently, being a 'lil rich' as Jungkook had mentioned meant booking a luxurious restaurant to hold a dinner party with at least fifty people who looked just as 'lil rich' as Yugyeom's Gucci tuxedo.
'It'll be alright babe. Yugyeom always insists on celebrating his birthday like it's an Oscar after party. We'll just eat some of that disgusting caviar and then head home to watch Netflix, I swear'.
And yes, caviar was gross, but so was the fact that Jungkook had failed to mention a certain someone would also be making an appearence.
After introducing you to a few of his friends and realizing that Mingyu's frendliness and amiability helped you feel more relaxed, he had excused himself to the bathroom, leaving you and his friend to entangle in a heated conversation about How I Met Your Mother's finale season.
You were thankful for Mingyu's humble nature and easygoing talk for a few minutes until you finally spotted your boyfriend making his way back into the room, stopping in his tracks to acknowledge a group of friends from his class.
Again, you wouldn't have such a problem with a certain blonde if she would just stop looking at Jungkook with stars in her eyes and pressing her cleavage against him while playing with her hair. It was hard to keep track of your conversation with Mingyu while Eunha was standing right next to your boyfriend and seemingly ogling up at him. It was also hard to not let your mind waver to dangerous territory when you took notice of how disgustingly good they looked together.
Just two attractive people who would look disgustingly good together.
Mingyu's voice makes you turn back to him.
"...I don't know, like, Barney was a womanizer until Robin, you know? He changed for her! They were just perfect for each other, but they had to throw it all away by killing the mother and then making Robin marry Ted? And Barney going back to his old ways?" Mingyu sounds exhasperated and you would laugh and find it cute if your stomach wasn't tugging again in a way that made you regret drinking so much wine so fast. Specially after his last statement.
"That's what I'm saying." you mumble, turning your attention back to your boyfriend in the crowd.
Jungkook wouldn't go back to his old ways. He loves you. There's nothing to worry about.
But as you watch him start to make his way towards you, you also watch the way Eunha grabs the sleeve of his blazer to pull him back. She leans in, whispers something in his ear to which he just shakes his head, says something that it's impossible to decipher from here you're standing and simply walks in your direction.
Still, as much as you tried to be neutral and objective and not a 'jealous little bitch', it's almost impossible to hide the sour expression on your face. It's impossible to unclench your jaw throughout the entire evening or lose the too tight grip on your glass of wine. Even when Jungkook whispers in your ear if you're okay, you merely nod yes. You avoid eye contact with him and everytime he tries to slip your hand into his, you dodge him it by wrapping your arms around yourself, claiming how cold it is.
Jungkook is not dumb.
He know something's up but he's also not stupid enough to cause a scene in public or preassure you into talking. So he settles on wating and being patient. Even as he slips his jacket on your stiff shoulders with pouty lips and his eyebrows drawn together, all he does is press a small kiss to the back of your neck. It takes all power within you to not throw yourself in his arms.
But as midnight approaches and it's time to leave, you notice a change in Jungkook's behaviour as you say your goodbyes. His hand on your back is not just a soft caress, instead, his fingers pull you closer, dig into your skin as he drags the both of you to where his car is parked. Now it's him who avoids your gaze. His tensed jaw and his tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek is a visible indicator that Jungkook is pissed.
You know his body language as well as he knows yours. And now, as he opens the door of the passanger seat so you can slide in, the guilt and the remorse of acting cold towards him for hours is finally dawning on you.
"Are you going to tell me now what was that about?" when he closes his own door shut, he doesn't bother to put his seatbelt on. Just grips the steering wheel as he turns to you.
"I-I don't know what you're t-"
"You don't know what I'm talking about?" he laughs, not a bit of humour in it. "I know scenes like this make you feel uncomfortable but I actually thought everything was going fine. I leave you for five minutes with Mingyu and when I come back, you won't look at me, won't touch me, won't act like I'm your boyfriend. Like I did something wrong. So please, _____, tell me, what's going on?"
You know there's no excuse for the way you acted. You know it's not Jungkook's fault he attracts attention and it most definitely not his fault if an ex of his is still hung up on him. You know it's your own fault and you know you should not try to excuse yourself and fight back. You'd swore to yourself you'd push down any feelings of jealousy deep inside until they disappeared. But something about tonight makes you explode.
"Why was she being all over you?"
Jungkook's face twists in confusion. "What? Who?"
"Eunha! Who the fuck else? She was all over you a few weeks ago at Minghao's party, and she was all over you tonight!" your voice is louder than you would've liked but at this point all you care about is letting it all out.
"This is what all of that was about? Eunha?"
"Yes! I've seen her on campus as well! Always trying to get your attention! I don't care that you have friends in common, but specially tonight, she whispered something to you and she was looking at you like she-"
"Who cares how she looks at me? All you need to care about is how I look at you because the only thing I care about is how you look at me!" Jungkook exclaims, clearly exhausted of this conversation.
You sink in your seat and look away as the knuckles on his hands turn white from gripping the steering wheel.
"_____," he calls you gently, but his voice mantains a stern tone to it. "We don't do jealousy. I thought we were supossed to trust each other blindly. Have I not proved to you how sickenly in love with you I am? Do you not trust me and what I feel?"
"I-... Of course I do. I-just... I don't know. You're right. That was uncalled for." you wrap yourself in the warmth of Junkook's blazer, trying to make his scent wash away any ugly resentment and guilt in your body.
"Wanna know what she said to me?" a rethorical question, because he was going to tell you anyway. "She asked me if I was going to stay for Yugyeom's after party, way past midnight. Wanna know what I said?" he turns to you. "I said no, I'm spending the night with my girlfriend."
None of you say nothing after that. He just puts his seatbelt on and starts driving. It's not too much of a far drive to his dorm, but the silence and the awkwardness makes it feel so much longer than it should be. You don't remember the last time Jungkook was mad at you. Actually, you don't think Jungkook has ever been mad at you. He loved the banter, loved to tease you, loved being competitive with you. But you had never seen him being avoidant of you. And that feeling tears your heart on the seat of his car.
"Are you mad at me?" you ask, voice barely audible, when the car stops at a red light. His dark eyes meet yours, his face immediately softening as he studies your expression. Then he picks one of your small hands in one of his big ones, brings it to his lips and lightly kisses your knuckles. He communicates with his eyes what he doesn't with words and it's enough to make you feel secure, at least for now.
When you finally arrive at Jungkook's room, he holds the door ope for you and lets you walk in, but he's still unusually quiet. So much so, you start to worry you might have fucked up big time.
You stand there, not knowing what to do as you watch him sit down on his bed, slipping his shoes and socks off and loosening the tie around his neck. His hair, that was perfectly styled a few hours ago, is now messy by the amount of times his hand has pushed it back. He looks too yummy, and you hate the fact that tension and a little bit of fighting has managed to make him look as delectable.
You ignore the heat starting to form in your belly because now it's not the time to be horny. Not when you still need to apologize and make things right. He's rolling the sleeves of his black shirt down his forearms when you decide to speak.
"Jungkook, I'm very sorry." you start, as you remove his blazer off you and place it on the chair right in front of his desk. "I don't know why I acted the way I did. I dont get easily jealous and I really don't think I am but..." your throat constricts your words for a moment. "The more I love you, the more frightened I get when I think that one day you'll realize I'm better off as your best friend's little sister. I-I dont know what I'd do with myself if that ever happene-"
"Take off your dress." Jungkook's impassive voice and emotionless face startles you and you freeze on your feet.
"What?"
"Did I stutter?"
His elbows rest on his knees and he's holding your stare with his. His doe eyes lack that free spirited and amusing glint they usually have. He looks bored, scrutinizing you. He's not challenging you. He's commanding you because he knows you will obligue.
That's why you gulp and slowly slide the straps of your dress down your arms until the fabric pools at your feet. His eyes waver along your naked breasts, nipples perking up like the mere intensity of his gaze is ordering them to. He doesn't make a move and doesn't say anything for a few seconds. He doesn't compliment you like he normally would at the sight of you almost naked in front of him.
His lack of words make you feel insecure, regardless of how turned on you are. You're used to Jungkook being reassuring, you're used to his lighthearted jokes and his playful kisses in the bedroom. But you're not used to Jungkook telling you what to do and keeping his distance while doing so. Your arms move on their own to hide yourself.
"Don't. If you hide from me, I swear to God, _____." he watches you as you let your arms fall back to your sides, your chest moving up and down while you struggle to breathe. You can't deny Jungkook's gruff voice and his eyes studying every bit of skin available to him like he hasn't seen you naked before is not making your underwear stick to your lower lips.
"JK, I just don't think this is the right moment to-"
"On my lap." your heart skips a bit, a thrill of excitement coursing through your veins.
"Jungkook-"
"I said, get on my lap, face down." he says again, this time slower. One of his eyebrows quirk up. "Or would you rather me drag you myself? Or make you crawl?"
Your eyes widen, and your feet are quick to approach him. Your nipples tingle, your core is throbbing and your cheeks are adorned by a beautiful blush that Jungkook doesn't miss.
He doesn't move until you're in front of him, just to help you lower yourself on his lap, your cheek and your nipples touching the mattress and your ass up. You close your eyes when Jungkook skims his fingertips over your skin, his carressing relaxing your body until he eases your nerves a bit. He sighs when he notices the way that poor excuse of a thong sticks between your folds as his strong hands massage your buttcheeks.
He's taking his time, his fingers gliding over your soft skin, his breathing too calm for your liking. Until one palm of his hand collides sharply against your right cheek, sending your body forward. You gasp, the stinging making your body want to pull away. But he's quick to catch both your wrists behind your back, keeping you in place.
"Jungk-!"
Another smack, this time harder, on the same cheek.
"Did I give you permission to talk?"
Smack. This time on the left cheek. Your back arches on its own will, presenting more of your ass to him unwittingly. Your eyes squeezed shut and bite the inside of your cheek as you rub your thighs together. You keep quiet as his hand lands another blow on your ass.
"That's a good girl. Now," his voice is gentler this time as his hand soothe your reddened cheeks. "do you think what you did tonight was okay?" you say nothing, only a mewl slips past your lips. Another smack. "Answer me."
"No." you lick your lips, anticipating more.
"Do you think it was funny to pull a stunt like that?"
Smack.
"N-no!"
"No, it wasn't. Spread your legs for me." you do as you're told and he finally pulls down the drenched piece of lace down your thighs. He leans forward, spreads your cheeks with one hand as he lets a glob of spit fall directly into your lips. He makes you gasp when his fingers start sliding up and down your folds slowly.
"I've had to put up with this kind of behavour since the day you begged me to fuck this tight, virgin pussy like the little slut you are." you whine, face red as humiliation starts to creep in. Jungkook slips one finger in, pumping it slow and easy. Your hips move to take him deeper.
"I tried to be a gentleman, you know?" he says, adding a second finger. "I've tried to treat you nice and sweet and be the best boyfriend I could be to make you happy and keep you satisfied in every sense of the word." his thumb finds your clit, rubbing tortuous circles.
"Been compeletely whipped since I kissed you for the first time. Haven't looked at other girls because I just can't when I have everything I want to look at right in front of me." murmuring, he starts to get lost your pussy and how it swallows his fingers and how obscene you look and sound, dripping right on his trousers. He watches his fingers moving in and out, almost hypnotized. "Yet, somehow..." he pulls away. You whimper in protest.
"Somehow, you still seem to doubt me." His hand smacks your cheek again, wet fingers spreading your essence all over your skin.
"P-please, please." you cry. You miss Jungkook's sadistic smile before he releases the grip on your wrists, still keeping you on his lap. Both his hands spread your cheeks now, and another glob of spit falls right into your asshole. His fingers find your cunt again, easily taking you almost over the edge.
"If you could only look at yourself right now... All spread out for me like a needy whore in heat" his thumb teases your unexplored rim, hesitantly, coating it with his spit and your own arousal. He presses in slowly. You gasp, your body tenses and Jungkook stills his movements immediately. There's silence for a few seconds.
"Too far? Should I stop?" and there's your Jungkook, concern lacing his voice. His free hand caresses your back, your body relaxing, laying back down obediently. His fingers are still inside you and his thumb is still asking for entrance. He leans forward, placing a small but comforting kiss on the bruised skin of your right asscheek.
"Go on." you whisper, but he doesn't move right away. This time, it's his own body that tenses momentarely before going back to his tranquil demeanor. He breathes through his noise as his fingers pick up where they left off.
"Yeah?" you swear you hear him swallow a lump in his throat. "Gonna let me finger this tight little ass like a good slut? Mm?" his thumb slides deeper, slightly stretching you out while his fingers work your pussy in a solid rhythm. "Gonna let me stretch you out little by little until I can open you up with my cock one day?" his movements speed up, fingers sliding out of your cunt to play with your clit and his thumb slowly moving in and out. "You don't wanna talk now? You just want to stay silent while I fuck your ass and-"
And then you're cumming, so unexpected it takes both of you by surprise. Your hands grip onto Jungkook's sheets, your thighs clasp around his hand as you scream his name. He doesn't stop though. He rides you through it, encouraging words mixing with filthy insults that prolong your orgasm until you're squirming beneath him.
"Shit, baby... My hand is soaked." he mumbles, as he slowly removes his fingers and thumb from you. "You okay?"
You faintly nod your head yes, not able to find words through your dry mouth and your pussy still convulsing.
"Good. Get on the bed. On your hands and knees."
You somehow manage to slip from his lap and position yourself as he says. Except your arms and legs are shaking. Although the sound of Jungkook undoing his belt and his hands gripping your hips and bringing you towards him until the head of his dick is at your entrance is enough to make you forget about how tired your body is. You surrender to him, not even bothering to hold yourself up on your arms, your fingers crumbling the sheets and your face buried into the pillow.
When his cock enters you, a pitiful moan leaves your mouth. His thick lenght slides into your heat, filling you perfectly as he always does. It's a wonder how well he fits inside you.
"Such a perfect slut for me. Always ready for me to do whatever I want with her, since day one. So tight, so ready. So, so perfect. All mine." he talks as measured as he moves, dragging each word out as his hips find a nice tempo.
Then he doesn't move for a while with his dick buried between your walls, and you know he's holding himself back. You turn your head slightly to look at him. He catches your eyes instantly. Sees your mascara running down your watery eyes, and your smudged lipstick and your messy hair and then he's giving you that look. That look that lets you know that Jungkook is, indeed, whipped for you. Leaning in, he presses his shirt-covered chest to your sweaty, naked back. His cock dives deeper, not an ounce of space between you as he lovingly kisses your cheek until his mouth finds yours.
He kisses you hard but soft, tongue meeting yours for the first time since you entered the room. Jungkook is not a man of words. He's silly, and a jokester, and finds it difficult to express how he's feeling. But when he kisses you, or looks at you, when he touches you, or when he makes love to you, even if it's as dirty and filthy as right now, he's always able to transmit exactly what he can't vocally.
He's telling you there's no other place he'd rather be than here, with you.
When he pulls back, a string of saliva still connecting your lips, his hand moves to the back of your head, fisting your hair in a tight hold that makes you arch your back and desperately moan for him.
"A-and you're mine." you sob.
It's like something snaps inside of him. He growls and suddenly his hips lose control. He nails you against the mattress, his grip on your hair pulling your head back, his lips against your ear as your cunt clenches around his cock.
"Just yours. All yours." his grunts send shivers down your spine and you're close again, even in the painful and uncomfortable position your body is in. Being at Jungkook's mercy and him being at yours is enough to have you seeing starts.
"This is the only pussy I want wrapped around my cock. Your lips are the only ones I want to kiss. You're the only one I want between my arms." It only takes two flickers of Jungkook's free hand against your nub and his next words to tip you over. "You belong to me, and I belong to you."
You squeal as you come, and Jungkook bites your shoulder to keep himself from doing so as well as he follows shortly. He fills you up with his release, but he doesn't release you from him. He wraps his arms around your frame, both your bodies becoming soft as he rolls over to one side with your back still pressed to his chest, cock still inside you. His lips find their way to the skin of your shoulder and the back of your neck. His breath fanning your flesh makes you smile.
"That is so not like my sister. I'm telling you, she never gets jealous." Taehyung says over the phone. He's munching on something again and Jungkook would bet all the money in his wallet again he's eating Skittles. Red Skittles. "So, everything cool now?"
"Yeah, man. We just talked it out, you know?" Jungkook's gaze falls on you, laying on your stomach on his bed, laptop iluminating your face, earbuds on and your head moving to whatever music you're listening to. Jungkook would bet all the money in his bank account it's Shape Of My Heart by The Backstreet Boys. Or at least that's what he's been able to guess so far. He was never good at reading lips, specially when trying to guess boybands' lyrics.
Friday's nights meant late 1990's/early 2000's pop nostalgia for you. It meant shaking his head and spending the following week trying to get Britney and Xtina songs out of his brain for him. Although lately, he hadn't been trying that hard. Jungkook sighs in content, not really trying to cover the fact that he might be looking at you like a starstruck teenager. Which, it was totally fair because that's exactly how he feels about you. "Communication is key, bro."
He keeps watching you until your head perks up and catch him gawking. You smile at him and he smiles back.
"By 'communication is key' you mean you actually fucked my little sister silly right? Bro, I swear, I'll block your numb-"
"Sorry man, gotta go."
"And now you're gonna fuck her silly again, right? You son of a b-"
Jungkook hangs up just as you take your earbuds off, making his way to you to kiss you silly.
#jeon jungkook#jungkook#bts#jungkook smut#jungkook fluff#jungkook imagine#jungkook fic#FINALLY#took me a month to gain motivation and inspiration back!!!
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omg wait no hold on I just requested overhaul but then I remembered your overhaul thirst post about him pulling a "curing hysteria~" as an excuse and thought I'd request something along that vibe (no oun intended). I think that'd fall under orgasm control, overstim? (hope this is okay!)
hysteria antidote - overhaul x fem!reader (4k)
seeing nothing but the same four walls every day of your life is playing havoc with your brain. overhaul thinks perhaps you're suffering from hysteria. he has the perfect cure for that.
cw: not sfw/minors dni. dark content!!! dubious/non-consent. captive reader. talk of death, blood, etc. medical kink, gloves, fingering, overstimulation, orgasm control. misogyny. mentions of pregnancy/breeding. afab reader, fem pronouns.
[a/n: idk the internet said the 28th of may was his birthday so consider this both a birthday fic and a fic to celebrate 6k followers, sorry that i am gross and horrible but tbh im having a great time <3]
You really don’t think it’s unreasonable for you to be going out of your mind.
Since the Boss was taken ill, and Kai – Overhaul, you remind yourself, though he’s always just a little less sharp with you when you trip over the new name than he is with anyone else – took over leadership of the Shie Hassaikai, you’ve been pretty much stuck indoors.
Considering that you’re pretty sure he only has fond feelings towards maybe three people in the entire world, including you, you guess you ought to feel special about it – but all it actually does is make you feel like a trapped bird, caged and restless. It doesn’t help that all of the other members of the organisation have started being weird around you; people who you’ve known most of your adult life, people who you’ve worked beside and killed beside and done other horrible things beside (for the good of the organisation, of course)--
But now, they look at you like you might break at any moment. They treat you like an invalid. Their brows crease when they see you out and about, quietly murmuring; “Shouldn’t you still be in your room?”, avoiding touching you at all costs. There’s a kind of fear in their eyes, that they’re going to be told off for even speaking to you, that they’re afraid of being caught close to you.
And you know exactly who’s to blame for that.
You’d tried to speak to him about it, once; you’d thought that perhaps he might be amenable to your desire to do something to help the Shie Hassaikai. He’s always wanted to restore them to their former glory, after all! But after you’d let out your little impassioned tirade, his eyebrows had creased over the bird-mask.
“You don’t sound well,” he’d said to you. “Go back to your room. I’ll talk to you about it later.”
You had missed, at the time, that he hadn’t said ‘we’ll talk about it later’. He’d just said ‘I’ll’. When he had come, that is how it had been; the reassurance that he was keeping you safe. That he didn’t want you to be tainted. That he was keeping you well.
Your quirklessness has never been an issue before, but it certainly hasn’t been a boon. Still, for Kai--
“It’s disgusting,” he’d said, agitated by the discussion. You’d stared at his hands, thinking about the destructive power he himself wielded. “Quirks are a curse, and you not having one is just proof you’re not infected.” He’d looked up, golden eyes piercing directly into yours. “I’m going to keep you perfect.”
Overhaul is not a doctor, for all of his talk about illness and disease and plague. You think he could have used his quirk for something meaningful, once; but you also know that his burning curiousity, his disgust of anyone who deems tainted, his utter lack of morality . . . those are all things that would not have been welcomed in the medical profession. So instead, he deals in needles and pills and altering drugs in the underground labyrinth of the compound.
Sterile rooms, with examination tables and scalpels and impersonal, silver-grey equipment. Pill boxes that rattle when he passes them to you and tells you to take three of those a day, one of those, that one has to be taken to with food--
The idea that you won’t take them doesn’t enter his head, and though he has never . . . overhauled someone in front of you, you have walked past other members of the organisation mopping and disinfecting blood and gristle from sterile flooring.
It is better to go along with him, so you take the supplements and the pills and submit to the way he grabs your chin in gloved hands on the doctor’s chair, tipping your face up to shine a light into your eyes and watch your pupils dilate. But inside, you are screaming.
You’re not made to be locked in one room, occasionally allowed out to pace the hallways of the upstairs – never the underground ones, not any more – with restless footsteps and your muscles fizzing with desire to taste fresh air. You’re not made to stare at the same walls and breathe the purified air and think about how empty the compound is, now that Overhaul is in charge of everything--
(Too many knick-knacks attract dust. Pollen allergies act up, if there are too many plants, and he hates hearing people sneeze. Furniture should be easily movable and barren, to assist in the twice-daily cleanings of every room that people walk through.)
But it’s getting too much for you. Suffocating. You feel like you’re choking on air all of the time; you take the pills, because the thought of what he could do to you is terrifying, but sometimes you wonder if perhaps it would be better if you didn’t.
You’d woken up that morning to the sound of rain hitting the high windows in your bedroom, and you had longed to go outside in your thin nightwear and spread your arms and taste the air, smell the rain, feel it hit your body in fat droplets. Your entire being had ached. You’d tried to distract yourself, with what little there was in the barren prison cell that you called a bedroom – but when the door opened at four thirty exactly, and Kai had stood there with his face as impassive as ever, you had not been able to stop yourself.
Hand fastening around his upper arm (you shouldn’t touch him, you know you shouldn’t, but the same four walls are getting to you), you’d begged him;
“I want to go outside.”
If anyone else had touched him like that, they would already be splattered against the walls and floor. But all you get is a furrow of his eyebrows, careful fingers (gloved, of course; the latex against your skin always makes you shudder) pinching at your hand to get you to let go of him.
“No,” he says. “You’ll catch a cold.”
“I don’t care,” you’re petulant, you know, frustration bubbling up in every cell of your body. “If I stay in here for one more day, I will tear myself into pieces.”
“You’re being over-dramatic.”
“Kai—”
“Don’t call me that.” His rebuttal is sharp. “You know I’m doing this for your own good.”
Your face twists into something ugly. Overhaul hates it when you do that; hates the way your brow wrinkles, your mouth moves, your normally lovely face (one of very few he can bear to look at unmasked and not feel as though he is going to get sick from merely breathing the same air of you) marred.
“You’re not,” you hiss at him. “You’re doing this because you’re fucked up! Because you’ve got some weird fucking ideas about what’s clean and what’s unclean, because you’re on a power trip, because you don’t care about other people--” Your voice is pitching and modulating, all of the things that you usually try and keep balled up inside of you spilling out that the floodgates of how unhappy you are is open.
You’re breathing heavy as Overhaul, clearly irked by what you’re saying, tugs at the wrist of one of his surgical gloves. If he’s going to kill you, good – at least it will be better than this, you think, your breath coming in short sharp pants after the outburst.
He lets go. His hands fall to his sides. His golden gaze on you is very level.
“You’re hysterical,” he tells you. An exasperated laugh falls from your mouth.
“Yeah?” You ask him. “Of course I am. Do you know the last time I breathed fresh air?”
“Seven months, two weeks, three days.” He says it without blinking. Your shoulders tense. Has it really been that long? “You haven’t been ill once in that time. The world out there is filthy.”
“It’s normal to get sick,” you try and tell him, but Overhaul is moving forward; past the doorway, and into your room. The door clicks shut behind him, the sound of a lock ominous. You don’t think you’ve ever been alone with Kai in your bedroom.
In the medical examination rooms, sure. In his office. In common areas, back when he was just the boss’ troubled protege and not the boss himself--
His eyebrows twitch in disgust as he notices the dust on your bookshelves. You’d stopped letting any of the cleaners in here a month ago; you’d refused to clean in the mean time, taking whatever small victory against your captor that you could.
“You’ll give yourself respiratory issues,” he says.
“Good,” your voice is cold, but you realise you’ve backed away from him. For all of your attempts to stand up to him, you’re terrified. Everyone knows what he can do. “Better dead than here--”
Gloved fingers around your wrist, so tight you can practically feel them bruising.
“You don’t mean that,” he says. His voice has gotten softer, cajoling. You’re trembling in his grip. “I told you. You’re hysterical.”
“I know exactly what I’m saying,” you say, but your words feel like you’re spitting them out around a mouthful of gravel. “I—I’m calm--”
Your knees knock against your bed, but Overhaul is still clinging to you; still too close. Your heart is beating so fast that you can hear it pounding in your ears.
“You’re not. You’re hysterical.” He repeats it, calmly. The hand not on your wrist reaches up and cups your face, a gloved thumb stroking across your cheek as if you’re the most delicate thing he’s ever touched. The scent of the latex is overwhelming. “But that’s alright. It’s not your fault.” He clicks his tongue behind the mask. “It’s mine. All of this checking for the physical sickness, and I didn’t think about checking your head.”
You fall onto the bed as his knees knock against yours, your back hitting the wall. It’s just a plain, single bed; rumpled sheets, because you’d fought against any attempt for someone to come in and collect your laundry, too. Overhaul looks silly in your room, you think dimly; like a huge black crow in the nest of a small, frightened wren.
“If you fight,” he tells you, “I’ll disassemble you. I’d rather not. I don’t want to taint you by using my quirk. But . . .” He’s sinking to his knees in front of you, those same methodical hands pushing up the skirt of your dress. “If I did, I’d get a blank mind to work with. I won’t hesitate. But I’d still rather simply fix you without having to break you into pieces first.”
You know him too well to think that he’s bluffing.
After all of the vitriol you’ve spat at him, he’s unwilling to kill you. Would it be worse, to be mindless and brainless under Kai’s quirk? You’ve heard some of his failed experiments before; babbling, drooling, broken things. He’s killed them sometimes just to put them out of their misery.
What if he did that, and your mind remained perfectly capable – just utterly unable to communicate with your body? A prisoner in your own skin. Worse than even now. You swallow back the lump of fear.
“H-how are you going to do that?” You ask him.
You start at how cold the gloved fingers are on your bare thighs, as Overhaul pushes them apart. Cold fear prickles down your spine. You’re too scared to fight back, but everything he’s doing is making you want to run.
“Did you know,” Overhaul says, those same hands sliding higher, to tug at the waistband of your underwear. “In the past, there were rumours that doctors would cure hysteria by genital massage and stimulation?”
His words are very clinical, but there’s a thickness to his voice behind the mask that fills you with revulsion.
“It might be nonsense, of course,” he says. Your underwear is being tugged down, pulled around your thighs, your knees, your ankle. “They theorised that the best cure was regular intercourse, male semen, pregnancy and childbirth--”
“Kai—” Your voice is a soft whine, fear-filled. This time, he doesn’t snap at you for calling him by the name he’s left behind. He simply says;
“Spread your legs.”
You don’t want to. But you want to risk what he’s threatening you with even less, so you tearfully open them as wide as you can go. He shifts forward, and the tip of the beaked mask digs into your inner thigh as he studies you like you’re nothing more than a diagram, not a living, breathing person--
“Next time I’ll have lubricant ready,” he says, under his breath, and your heart seizes up at the implication that whatever he’s going to do to you, there’ll be a next time.
You start at the sensation of gloved fingers gently parting the lips of your sex, Overhaul’s golden eyes drinking in the sight of you spread open and bare. You’re shaking, but for some reason the way he’s looking at you – the utter concentration in his eyes – makes a curl of heat flare deep inside of you.
“Don’t,” you breathe, trying not to squirm. “Please--”
“I don’t want to have to,” he says. His tone remains calm, unbothered. “I’m doing it for your own good, you know that. Just helping you along.” One finger slides through the slit; the sensation of the gloves against your most intimate, heated parts makes the muscles in your thighs clench. It’s . . . not exactly unpleasant, but neither it is pleasant. “Do you think I’m getting any pleasure out of this?”
He doesn’t like getting his hands dirty. You know this; everyone knows this. If this particular thought was so unpleasant to him, you don’t doubt he’d have found somebody else to do it (the thought of one of the other members of the Shie Hassaikai doing this to you fills you with even more revulsion than the idea of Overhaul himself). But you can’t say that out loud. Not after what he’s threatened. So you press your lips together and shake your head, gasp dying in your throat as one of Overhaul’s latex-covered fingers prods gently around your opening.
“You’re getting wet,” he tells you, as if you can’t feel the shameful slick beginning to leak from you. “That will make this easier. Good.”
You hate that the praise makes another jolt of arousal go through you. You don’t want to like the feeling of his gloves, rubbing at your heated cunt; the sensation of a fingertip circling around your entrance, brushing the bud of your clit and making you want to clamp your thighs around his hand.
He sinks the tip of one finger inside of you and you jerk, your hips out of your control as you try and sink away from the intrusion. Overhaul clicks his tongue again in annoyance at you. The hand holding the lips of your cunt open moves, to land on your hip and pin you between the bed and the wall so you can’t squirm again.
“I’ll sedate you next time, if I have to,” he says. “I’m not getting anything out of this. I’d prefer not to have to do it at all--”
He’s lying. You know he is. But you can’t call him out for it, so you press your trembling lips together and try to stop tears spilling out from your lash line as the finger inside of you sinks further and further inside, past his first knuckle, right down to the base.
He crooks it inside of you and your hands curl into the bedsheets, nails digging into your palms through cotton. His touch is curious, exploratory; has he ever actually done this to anybody before? He slides over a rough patch inside of you with the latex-tipped finger and a moan escapes your mouth against your will, your head falling back against the wall. Narrowed golden eyes look up at you as he repeats the motion; taking in the gloss of your lips, the widening of your eyes, the way your shoulders are shaking up and down.
You can feel yourself pumping more slick out; helping the glide of his finger inside of you, as he begins to carefully thrust it in and out of you. His touch is made all the more impersonal by the mask obscuring everything but his eyes and eyebrows; you can’t even hear him breathing.
Your cunt is fluttering around him, pleasure swarming you in breathless waves as he withdraws his finger entirely. He lifts the glove to his eyeline, looking only vaguely interested in how the white latex glimmers with your arousal.
“I’m going to use two now,” he tells you – and that is all the warning you get before two fingers beside one another are opening you up, scissoring your tight channel apart with an ache that you feel up to your hips. You bite back the whimper, but you’re unable to stop the choked breaths that are falling from you as he fucks you with them in steady, constant thrusts.
A covered thumb brushes your clit; swollen, now. Sensitive. Standing to attention. Your hips attempt to jerk in his hold once more, a strangled noise that’s neither pleasured nor pain falling from your throat. You’ve touched yourself, of course you have – even recently, just to try and assuage some of the boredom that fills your exactly-the-same days – but Overhaul’s fingers and thumbs and touch on you are so entirely different from that.
He continues his assault over your clit, those same eyes watching you with that same detached, clinical disposition that he’s had most of the time. There’s a cast to them that suggests there’s something more, but whatever emotion – if, indeed, he’s still capable of that – he’s feeling about having you at his mercy in this way has been pushed to the back of his mind as his thumb rolls and pinches at the bud.
Your body goes all-over heat, Overhaul’s fingers still pumping in and out of you, the slick noises of your shaming wetness echoing around the prison of the four walls you’ve spent seven months in. You’re teetering on the edge of something, hot and needy and wanting – and as Overhaul’s thumb sweeps over your poor aching clit again, you tilt your hips forward for as much stimulation as you can--
And he pulls his fingers out of you.
The heat fades into nothingness as you let out a noise of disappointment. Overhaul’s head tilts to one side, considering.
“What do you want?” He asks you. “Say it.”
No. You don’t ‘want’. He’s wrong. You keep your mouth pressed tight now that the damning noise has fallen out of it; you have managed to not let the tears trembling in your eyes spill forth. Your gaze meets his, defiant and tired and afraid all at once.
“Alright,” he sighs. “If you’re going to carry on being difficult.”
He does it again; his fingers plunging into you, scissoring you apart, rubbing against your folds with a practised agility now that he’s done it for the first time. He has always been a fast learner; always been observant. His thumb is back on your clit with ceaseless assault, and all over again you feel heat begin to build up; tension that crawls into every crevice of your being and worms its way deep inside you despite how badly you don’t want this.
The hand holding your hip loosens somewhat, allowing you to messily thrust your hips into Overhaul’s stimulation. You’re torn; you shouldn’t want to hump against the gloved fingers stimulating you, you should be wriggling and squirming away. But it feels so good; even with the skin-tight covering of rubbery latex, Overhaul’s fingers seem to find every one of your weak points and exploit them.
There it is again, building up on you; a ball of tension in your stomach being gradually wound tighter and tighter, threatening to snap at any moment. Your hips flex against his hand, your fingers clenching and unclenching on the bedsheet--
He denies you the peak of your orgasm for the second time.
And a third.
And a fourth.
“Kai--!” You’re too far gone to even think, after the pleasure has been pulled from you so cruelly, over and over again. The tears spill over your cheeks., rolling down in fat, shaming droplets. Overhaul’s eyes narrow.
“No,” he says, vehement – more emotion in his voice than you’ve heard all day. “You know what to call me.”
You know what he wants you to call him. You know that he wants to leave his old name behind, start again, be someone who can drag the Shie Hassaikai out of the shadows and into light and power once again – and he thinks that the name will help. You gurgle out a sobbing, strangled noise;
“O-Overhaul, please--”
Three fingers are plunged as deep inside of you as they can go, crooked to rub against your sweet spot; as Overhaul murmurs, detached but soft;
“That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
They thrust into you, his thumb rubbing your clit with firm, certain strokes – and this time, as the orgasm rushes up on you all at once, he doesn’t stop. He fucks you with his fingers through it, his thumb not ceasing the circling. Pleasure washes over you, finally, in great waves and crests. You feel yourself gush on his fingers, soaking him in your wetness (his eyebrows furrow again, at how close your fluid comes to spilling over his bared wrist; but you are too relieved to think about anything other than finally getting what you need).
Your hips flex, gasps falling from your mouth with every thrust of them – and you expect Overhaul to pull his fingers out of you. To stop touching you. Perhaps to strip off his gloves and put on a new pair – you know he always carries spares – and sneer at you as he walks out of the room.
But Overhaul’s fingers do not move from inside of you. The fierce rhythm of his fucking and petting and rubbing does not stop, even as the final aftershocks of your orgasm clench loosely about him and his constant stimulation becomes more of an annoyance than anything else on heated, sensitive skin.
You squirm, trying to push your thighs together to get him to stop touching you – but the hand not fucking you forces your thighs to stay parted with the curl of fingers into supple flesh, leaving you helpless to do anything but let him carry on touching you. Carry on fucking you.
A short, sharp shock of an orgasm rips through you as he swirls his thumb over your clit just so, and you realise that you’re drooling down yourself as well as panting; helpless and sloppy, utterly unable to do anything except lie there and take it until Overhaul decides he’s had enough of touching you.
You come, what? Twice more? Thrice? Until the pulsing of your channel is painful, your skin feeling red raw, your whimpers into the ceiling dry and broken. Only then does he pull his fingers out of you with a lewd pop.
A gush of your fluid that his fingers were stoppering soaks your bedsheets, and you watch, dazed, as Overhaul stands up. He looks down at you for just one moment, that stretches unbearably long in the heat-and-sex soaked atmosphere of the room.
He strips his gloves off of his hands, eyebrows twitching in disgust as he leaves the crumpled latex on your bedside table. He’s sliding on another pair as he speaks;
“Feel better?”
No. No, you don’t. You feel worse. You feel disgusted and violated and aching, your body over-stimulated and exhausted, sweat and drool and bodily fluids clinging to your skin. But if you tell Overhaul that--
“Yes,” you say, voice very soft and small and weak. You cannot see his mouth, but you see the way his eyes flash happily, the overall sensation of him smiling.
Why does Overhaul’s smile make you so scared, when Kai’s smile used to just make you feel warm?
“We’ll need to do it a few more times,” he tells you, as your blood runs to ice in your veins. “Such maladies aren’t cured in a day, after all. But . . .” He turns, rearranging himself carefully, his mask readjusted. You can’t see him as he speaks the next words. “I’d like to try some of the other suggested remedies, too.”
You think of his earlier words.
‘They theorised that the best cure was regular intercourse, male semen, pregnancy and childbirth.’
You’re never going to escape, are you? You’re going to be trapped in this compound until the day you die, and Overhaul is going to think that he’s keeping you safe--
“Take a shower,” he says to you, as he opens the door. It is not a suggestion. “And stop not letting the maids come in here to clean. I’m not having you get sick.”
You think he might be the sick one.
#overhaul x reader#yandere overhaul#overhaul smut#overhaul x you#chisaki kai x reader#bnha smut#bnha x reader#dark content for ts#5555 event fic#not sfw text#writing#afab reader#fem pronouns#misogyny for ts#bnha posting#medical kink for ts#non consent for ts#dub con for ts#non con for ts
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Capture This! || Kaminari Denki
Synopsis: You walk in on Denki, your best friend of five years, getting off. Two questions: Why is there a picture of you? And why do you want him to take more?
Pairing: Kaminari Denki x fem!reader
Warnings: M/E+, 18+, explicit sexual content
Word Count: 6k+
A/N: This is for the @bnhabookclub bingo event! Thank you @shoutogepi and @im-here-for-the-heroes for beta reading. Shout out to @whats-her-quirk this fic was born from me poppin in during your thirst hours lol
“Lotion? Check. Tissues? Check. Pictures?”
Denki swallows.
“Check.”
It’s routine for Denki, really the only ritual he sticks to in his otherwise scatterbrained schedule of kickin’ ass, chilling with friends, and playing Fortnite till ungodly hours of the morning.
But he can’t help it. You’re fucking gorgeous, and Denki has needs - his brain programmed to get off at least three times a day else he can’t function. The first time it happened, he felt a deep sense of shame, twisting his gut, disgusted with himself that he defiled your image. He couldn’t look you in the eye for a week until you had enough and demanded to know what was up. It was the first time he lied to you.
But one time became two, and three, and suddenly Denki needed an image of you all the time. The one of you looking all pretty in that stupid summer dress was his favorite. You bought it that one time you dragged him to the mall because you needed a “guy’s opinion.” He rushed to the bathroom because if he didn’t get out fast, he was gonna drag you back into the changing room and rip that dress off himself.
You’re adorable, hot, sexy, and absolutely terrifying, wrapped up in one perfect package.
Oh, and did he forget to mention?
Totally off-limits.
This is why Denki has to resort to hanging out with you, listening to you vent about your boy problems, and how you just want to meet “the one” already. Denki’s heart breaks a little more every time you shove him deeper into the friend zone, all the while pretending like he didn’t just jerk it to you a couple hours before.
He works his hand up and down his shaft, growing harder by the second with each stroke. It doesn’t take much to get him going, not when it’s you. You’re wearing his hoodie, toes buried in the sand, roasting a marshmallow in front of a bonfire. You’re smiling at something Kirishima said, Denki doesn’t remember what, because all he could see was the light in your eyes. A genuine spark lit only when the cameras were off, and you were unaware of anyone watching. Denki loved witnessing these rare moments; wanted to commit it to memory, so he did. When you posted the picture on Instagram, Denki was more than surprised; you had scrunched your nose when he showed you the picture, displeased with how you looked.
This should not be happening. Any normal person would feel ashamed when staring at a picture of their best friend and touching themselves. No one knew about it, and Denki was surprised he was able to keep it a secret for this long considering he’s friends with fucking Mina of all people.
Enough pre-cum bubbles at the tip that he doesn’t even need the lotion. Staring at you on the screen, wearing his hoodie that’s way too big it covers your thighs completely, makes his mind wander to all sorts of ways he wishes he could get you out of that hoodie. He leans back into the chair, spreading his legs with his eyes half-lidded, imagining what your lips might look like wrapped around his cock.
“Fuck yeah...”
Groaning at the image of you on your knees, lips bruised and slicked with spit from fucking your pretty little mouth has Denki tightening his fist, hips fucking into his hand in a continuous rhythm.
He’s on the verge of coming when the door swings open - the first and last person Denki wants to walk in is standing there in front of him.
“Hey, I called, but you didn’t - ah!” You squeak, throwing the box you’re holding. A sea of random knick-knacks and hero merch rains over you. You hear a thump when the yellow polaroid camera you bought for Denki at a thrift shop hits the floor.
“Fuck!” Denki jumps from his chair, an array of pens fall in a heap to the floor.
You whip your head away, heat spikes your body, embarrassed that you saw your best friend in such a compromising position.
Denki mutters a repeated “shit shit shit” to himself for a good minute before he finally addresses you; his voice rising with each word.
“How did you get in here!?”
“Spare key, dumbass!”
“That’s for emergencies only!”
“Are you talking to me with your dick out!?”
Silence.
“No?”
You huff at the uncertainty in his tone. It’s only two o’clock, and you can already feel a migraine coming on.
“Denki, if I turn around and you’re not covered, so help me god I will-”
“Okay, okay, I got it. Pants are zipped.”
You don’t move until you hear the confirming “zip” before slowly opening your eyes (you have no idea why your eyes were closed in the first place), and you turn around to find Denki leaning against the desk. He’s trying his best to appear casual, but the flush on his face and frazzled hair give away what he was doing moments before you walked in. You don’t know where it comes from, but the thought alone stirs something inside you.
The confusing emotion is replaced by hot-blooded anger when you lock eyes on the screen behind him.
“Is that my face!?”
Denki’s smile drops as he turns around. Dammit. Of course, he forgot to close the tab.
“Uhhh…”
He has no words, none, not when you’re standing there with that intense look in your eyes you get when you’re about to rip someone a new one. Your anger could rival Bakugou’s, and Denki has unfortunately been in the middle of one too many screaming matches. He’s surprised his eardrums aren’t blown out by now.
He clicks to exit out, or at least he thinks he does until he comes to the dumb realization that he’s clicking the zoom button instead.
“Ho-hold on, let me just…”
With each click, it zooms a little more into your face until only your nose is in the frame. Denki sheepishly looks up at you.
“Oops?”
Denki’s had a good life. He’s already come farther than most ever dream in their career when becoming a pro-hero, and he’s made some amazing friends most spend years trying to find. The only regret of his is not confessing his true feelings to you, but really what’s one regret? He’s totally a-okay with saying goodbye to this cruel, cruel world if it meant not being subjected to this torture any longer.
“Denki Kaminari.”
Denki gulps. Oh no. You only say his full name when you mean business.
“Explain right this instant or I will walk out this door and tell the whole world how you and grape boy took body shots off cardboard cutouts of each other!”
“Hey! We were really fuckin’ drunk and thought it might score us some pity sex with the ladies!”
“In what world would you licking fuckin’ Mineta equal oh yeah, fuck me, Denki?”
Denki cowers with each step you take, gulping down the lump in his throat when your face is close enough to hold in his hands. He’s never been more simultaneously turned on and terrified in his life. Especially when he just heard the words “fuck me, Denki” escape your lips.
Don’t look down. Don’t look down. Whatever you do. Don’t. Look. Down.
The last thing he wants is you flinging him out the window because he couldn’t keep his eyes on your face. Don’t get him wrong; he could look at your face forever, even when you look like your one move away from killing him. But… he’s a dude, and there’s boobs in front of him, not to mention your boobs.
“Hello? Earth to Denki?” You wave your hand in his face.
“You may wanna sit down for this.”
“I’m fine where I am, thank you very much.”
He huffs out a breath, annoyed you didn’t take the bait. The suggestion was more for his sanity than yours. With you standing so close, his brain is going haywire; the tantalizing scent of strawberries and cream short-circuiting his brain quicker than when he overuses his quirk. It never fails to make his mouth water, if only he could bend down and bury his nose in the crook of your neck, god, he’d never let you go.
How does he even begin to work through the feelings he has for you when they’ve been bottled up since the moment he knew he was in deep? Where does he start?
The fact he’s been in love with you for the past five years?
Or that he’s been getting off to you for half that time?
Denki’s mind is running a mile a minute, like a computer in overdrive. He can’t make enough sense of his emotions to convert into words. But, instead of waiting to open his mouth, like a normal person, Denki spews out embarrassing word vomit that connects his two thoughts.
“I love getting off to you.”
A pin could drop, and it’d be as loud as a freaking hurricane.
Denki groans in frustration, facepalming his forehead. What the hell did he just say, and can he take it back? How long would it take for him to hack into a database and find someone with a time manipulation quirk? He doesn’t even know how to hack, but he’d wrangle his one brain cell and fucking learn if that’s what it takes.
He’s usually good at reading you. You’re one of the few people he cares enough to pick up on how you’re feeling. The myriad of emotions that pass on your face from shock to confusion to a hint of amusement lets Denki know he can breathe easy. At least you’re not trying to kill him anymore.
“Oh-kay that’s not what I - what I meant to say was - hold on, lemme just, rewind.”
He makes some weird, loopy gesture with his arms. His brain was firing a million synapses at once, each connected to a different thought, some deep like the fear of losing you and some not so deep - like he’s really excited to eat the cheeseburgers Bakugou promised he’d grill tonight.
But he tries his best to reign in the million and one thoughts to focus on you, who’s waiting for an explanation. He takes a deep breath to steady his heart that’s about to beat out of his chest. He only hopes you don’t stomp on it after what he’s about to say.
“I’m in love with you, Y/N. I have been since our first year at U.A. I wanted to tell you for the longest time, but then you got with Bakugou. Then you broke up, and you needed a friend more than ever, and how could I say no to being ‘your best bro’ when you were crying on my shoulder? It was just never the right time.”
The more he rambled, the more uncomfortable he felt. Out of all the scenarios he imagined of how he’d confess to you, this one was at the bottom of his list to be prepared for. He never expected to be forced into confessing because you caught him masturbating to pictures of you. He rubs the back of his neck and gives an awkward laugh when you stay silent.
“I get it if you wanna, like, shun me forever or something. I deserve it for being such a creep.”
Denki lowers his head to the floor, the clutter of fallen pens and knick-knacks looks way less intimidating than staring into your eyes. A soft hand touches his chin, lifting his face to meet yours.
“Hey, look at me, it’s okay.”
Your voice does wonders for soothing the nerves shaking him up.
“I guess it’s not that creepy when you put it like that, and for some weird reason, you’re like the one person I can catch jacking off to my pictures, and I don’t feel the need to report you as a registered sex offender.”
It’s meant to be reassuring, but Denki’s heart drops at the idea of you labeling him as the neighborhood perv.
“Please, don’t do that,” he squeaks before clearing his throat, “But for real, Y/N, I’m so sorry. It’s wrong to disrespect you like that, and I promise I won’t do it again.”
Denki has no idea how he’s gonna get off now, but that’s his future self’s problem.
“I can’t help it, you’re gorgeous, and I love ya, and I don’t remember the last time I got laid.”
Fuck. He didn’t mean to say that last part, but it’s the truth. You’re the reason he couldn’t even look at another girl, because they weren’t you, and that’s why he had to resort to pulling up pictures of you. Pictures that aren’t normally deemed “sexy” and of you dressed modestly, without much skin showing.
That doesn’t stop Denki from coming in record time with your name rolling off his lips every time.
“How bad do you want me?”
You’d be lying if you said you weren’t the least bit curious about what sex with your best friend would be like. You heard he wasn’t a bad lay from a couple girls back at U.A.
You’d also be lying if you didn’t say you were just as horny as said best friend.
It’s difficult finding time to date as a pro-hero. When you do, it doesn’t last very long anyway - the other person growing tired of always coming second to your career. Don’t even get you started on one night stands. They’re practically impossible to uphold as once the media gets wind of it, you’re slapped on the cover of “Hero Times Magazine,” and everyone and their mother is calling for you to “spill the tea.” This is why pro-heroes either end up with other pro-heroes or end up alone.
Denki’s eyebrows shoot straight to his hairline. If someone were to tell him you were attracted to him in any sense of the word, his heart would double-time it, but he’d ultimately brush it off. He knew your type, and he could not be farther from it. The aggressive, beefy, gym rat who could match you move for move in a heated spar of harsh words and hot-blooded passion. You dated Bakugou for fuck’s sake! There was no hope for Denki after that.
But he’ll be damned if he doesn’t take what he can get. The words pour out of him like the dam’s been broken and the unforgiving flood rushes.
“I want you so bad, Y/N, fuck, I’ve waited so long, so fucking long, you don’t know how crazy you make me.”
Your breath catches. His words have an unexpected effect on you, but your heart drums in anticipation. If you listen close enough, you can hear Denki’s beating at the same rate, waiting for what you’re going to say next. Power surges through you. In your past relationships, sex was always seen as this competition. Your exes never wanted to relinquish their pride or control, but Denki is nothing like your exes. He’s laid-back, always cracking jokes, and never dwelling too much on the past, always moving forward to the next moment. He’s perfectly fine with letting you take the reins most of the time. You determine what will happen next.
“You love getting off to me?”
It’s a rhetorical question, but he answers in earnest.
“You’re the only one I get off to.”
You slide your dress off, and it falls to the floor.
“Show me.”
Denki’s eyes travel over your body, his mouth slightly open in disbelief at your undressed state. He wants to capture this moment in case this is as much as he gets, even if he can never use this mental picture because he promised you he wouldn’t. His fingers itch to brush along the lace trim of your bra, to graze along your nipple, and watch your reaction. Are you sensitive enough where you’d full on moan, or would he have to strain to catch the small hitch of breath? Denki was never top of his class. He preferred to wing it and hope for the best, but for you, he’d take his time to study every inch and crevice of your body until he could read you cover to cover with his eyes closed. His gaze travels down to the matching lace panties you wear, a cute little bow in the front waiting to be untied with his teeth.
Did you plan to get fucked today? Or do you usually wear matching sets on the regular?
Your skin looks so soft and supple, he’s aching to dig his fingers, but before he can, you step away. Denki cocks his head. Have you changed your mind? But any doubt leaves Denki when you make your way across the room to sit down on the edge of the bed.
You start with feather-light touches dancing along your collarbone. Your eyes are locked on Denki, getting high on the way he drinks in your every move. Your touches are teasing, especially when your finger dips down to your cleavage. Still, instead of giving Denki what he wants, you change course, making your way back to your shoulders. Denki exhales a breath at your teasing, but says nothing, too afraid he’ll ruin the mood if he says something stupid.
When you make your way down again, you don’t disappoint; you pinch your nipple through your bra, and the way Denki swipes his tongue over his lip has heat rushing to your core. You slide your hand down your stomach, stopping when you reach your clothed slit. Denki stares, hungry and buzzing in anticipation for what you’ll do next. Smirking in victory, you spread your legs open and pull your panties to the side, giving him the view to capture the perfect picture of your dripping pussy.
“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”
You taunt breathlessly, tracing your folds with your fingers.
Oh shit. Were you for real? Please, tell him you were for real because he legit might cry if this was some elaborate prank. Where are the fucking cameras?
“You don’t want to?” You bite your lip, insecurity seeping through the confident smile you wore just a moment ago.
“No! I mean - yes! Yes, I do, holy shit, let me find - where the fuck is…” Denki whips around, trying to find his phone. Fuck! Out of all the times to misplace it, it has to be now. But then he spots the yellow polaroid camera sitting on the floor, and before he can think, he’s picking it up and praying it has film. He kneels, so he’s eye level with your pussy, but also making sure the angle gets your whole body in the frame. The light streaming in gives you an ethereal look, your skin glowing, and adding to the cute flush on your cheeks. The camera clicks, and a second later, the picture slides out. You giggle at Denki’s impatience. He’s waving the picture frantically in the air, so the color comes through faster. He completely stills when he can finally take a good look at the beauty he’s captured.
“Fuck, Y/N, you look…”
Denki can’t control the groan that escapes. He looks back up at you, eyes darkened with lust before he’s ripping his shorts off so fast, his foot gets caught, and he almost trips in the process. Once he’s out of them, he plops back down in the chair across the room. You’re surprised when all you feel is pure, unadulterated lust. You expected to be at least a little bit weirded out staring at your best friend’s cock, but all you want is to put it in your mouth and explore all the different ways you can make him come. The tip is oozing pre-cum already, and the way he works his hand with a sense of urgency suggests he’s been hard for a while. It doesn’t take long before you hear Denki grunt.
“Fuck, I’m close.”
You look so pretty spread out for him. For the last five years, he wanted nothing more than to see you like this. His hips jerk up, and he throws his head back, but he makes sure to keep his eyes open like his life depended on it; he didn’t want to miss a second of this. You, with your legs wide open giving him a view of your perfect little pussy. Your panties soaked by you rubbing your clit mercilessly, and your pupils blown wide as you watch your best friend get off to the show you’re giving him. It’s erotic as hell, completely different from the pictures Denki has of you. This one easily tops all the others. He tightens his fist - he doesn’t want it to end without feeling your skin on his at least once.
“Let me touch you, Y/N, please, I just wanna touch you, need to feel you.”
Denki doesn’t give a fuck that he’s begging at this point. He’s waited too damn long to care about pride or dignity, not when the chance to fuck you is placed in his shaking hands. You bite your lip to suppress a moan, but it comes out anyway.
“Touch me.”
That’s all Denki needs. Before you know it, you’re pushed down on the bed, and lips smash against yours. He’s eager, a little too eager, shoving his tongue in your mouth and touching everywhere that he can. You don’t have much room to breathe, so you gently push at his chest.
“Chill, Denki.”
He huffs out a breath, muscles shaking like he’s restraining himself from overwhelming you.
“Sorry, sorry, sorry,”
He mumbles, peppering kisses into your neck before making his way back to your lips. It’s much smoother this time, his tongue sliding out to tease your bottom lip, asking for permission this time. He groans when you open up for him, your tongue meeting his. Hands trail up until they reach around, resting on the clasp of your bra. Honey eyes meet yours, but you cut off his question.
“I’ll stop you if I need to, but you asking me if it’s okay every time you try something is gonna seriously kill the mood.”
You reach around to place your hands on top of his, unclasping your bra along with him. His eyes darken at the sight of your bare chest. You try not to squirm at the intensity of his gaze. It becomes near impossible when he dips down to flick his tongue over your nipple before biting with his teeth. He pays the same attention to the other one before kissing his way down your stomach. You arch your back when he spreads your legs and positions himself between them. He makes his way around, avoiding your dripping pussy, teasing your thighs with soft kisses. You huff in annoyance, and he smirks up at you, biting into the flesh of your thigh. This time he places a kiss to your heated center, enjoying the way you squirm under his touch.
“Is it everything you imagined?” You ask.
He looks up at you, with such a serious expression, one you’ve only seen a couple times since knowing him.
“Everything and more.”
Your heart flutters, and you know you’re going to say something you’ll regret if you don’t stop counting the different shades of gold in his eyes. You clear your throat before throwing your hair back.
“You gonna fuck me, or am I gonna have to do it myself?”
You pull his head in for a demanding kiss, biting on his lip to distract yourself from the rush of bubbling emotions threatening to surface.
“One sec,” Denki whispers, placing one last kiss to your lips, before getting up.
You gape at the giant box of condoms he casually pulls out. It hasn’t been opened, and oh my god, you didn’t even know they made huge boxes like this. There were at least a hundred in there. What person thinks to buy a big box of condoms if their plans don’t include… fucking a whole ass army?
“What the fuck, Denki?”
People usually have one, maybe two condoms in their wallet at most. Some guys don’t have any at all, which kills the mood when you’re in the heat of the moment, so I guess you can be thankful that Denki is... extra prepared?
“What?”
He pulls a condom out and drops the box. It thumps when it hits the floor. You’re taken aback by how nonchalant he’s being about this.
“I- you- wha- How many times do you think we’re gonna do it!?”
Denki slides the condom on, smirking at your shocked expression.
“Till we finish this box,” he says as he slides into you.
You gasp at the stretch. He pushes to the hilt, and stays there when he notices the slight furrow of your brow. It has been a while since you’ve fucked, but soon enough, you crave more so you roll your hips, but he doesn’t move.
“Denki?”
His head is pressed into your neck, warm breath tickling your skin, and the stuttering heartbeat matches to the beat of your own.
“Just… gimme a minute, don’t wanna ruin it by coming in two seconds.”
His words are muffled, voice raspy with desire, and you can only imagine what his face looks like. It makes you want him all the more. Finally, someone who doesn’t see sex as an opportunity to one-up you or to put you in your place. It’s scary how the last twenty minutes have changed five years of friendship.
“Hey,” you hold his face in between your palms. He already looks completely fucked out with his face flushed and eyes glazed. You place a tender kiss to his lips, unlike the previous kisses you shared.
“You couldn’t ruin it even if you did come right now.”
You caress his hair in an attempt to reassure him.
“You’d just have to make it up to me,” you wink.
His smile is so pure, lighting up his eyes that’s unique to Denki; it makes your heart do somersaults in your chest. But the moment passes as the previous heat between you two spikes when Denki circles his hips, taking his time to feel you inside and out. He’s touching and kissing you wherever he can, your cheek, neck, chest, thighs, like it’s the first and last time he’ll experience you like this. It might very well be.
This thought doesn’t sit well with you.
Once he’s mapped out your sweet spots, he digs his fingers into your thighs and pulls your hips flush towards his. He pulls out of you until only the tip is brushing your opening and pounds back into you, taking your breath away. He pumps in and out of you faster, and you cry out when he hits that special spot deep inside of you.
“Denki,” you moan. He grunts and spreads your legs even wider, grabbing one and hauling it over his shoulder to pound into you deeper.
He’s getting close, hell, he’s been close even before you walked in.
“F-fuck…” Denki groans, thrusting at an uneven pace and feeling the familiar tightening in his groin.
Wrapping your legs around his waist, you flip him over and begin bouncing on his cock in a much more steady rhythm. Denki’s staring up at you, eyes wide in admiration.
You’re a goddess. An absolute fucking masterpiece that needs to be put in a museum for his eyes only. God, when did he get so fucking mushy? You always brought out different sides that Denki, himself, didn’t even know he had. He can’t keep his hands off you, grabbing your boobs, sliding down the curves of your thighs, gripping your ass. He wants to commit it all to memory in case he never gets to know this pleasure again.
“Y/N, ah, shit, I’m gonna...” he trails off, unable to finish his sentence.
He’s holding on to that sweet release for as long as he can. He’s been craving it since he met you on the first day of class at U.A. His balls tighten, unable to hold it in any longer, before he gives in to the long overdue orgasm. It hits him hard - his entire body tingling from head to toe like 1000 volts of electricity bolt through him. Denki had no idea he could come for this long, but he doesn’t want it to end - it feels so fucking good inside you. He rides it out for a couple more thrusts before he relaxes, completely sated. You try to pull off him, but he grabs your hips and forces you back down. You squeak, clearly not expecting him to care enough to help you out after he finished.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
The tone of his voice sounds foreign in his ears, too gruff and too deep, but you seem to have no problems with it as you moan in response, working yourself on top of him. Your thighs crush his hips, shaking with need as you seek a release of your own. You’re tired from bouncing, so you resort to grinding, swirling your hips deliciously around his cock. Denki squeezes your ass in appreciation.
“You close?”
“Close, so close, Denki, please…”
Your eyes well up with tears, desperate to finish; the coil in your stomach wound too tight that you might burst any second. Denki helps you by thrusting his hips to meet yours, his hand rubbing your clit. You jolt at the sudden zap to your clit, you look down to see a small spark leave Denki’s fingertip. He does it again, and you cry out, your pussy fluttering from the electrifying touch.
“C’mon, baby, you can do it, come for me.”
Fuck. Denki didn’t mean for the pet name to slip out, but then you’re moaning louder than before that Denki would’ve had to quiet you if you weren’t alone. Words are tumbling out before you can stop them.
“Oh, fuck, Denki, I love this so much, I love you, I-”
You slap your hand over your mouth. Denki’s eyes widen for a second before a dangerous glint takes over, and he wretches your hand away from your mouth.
“Lemme hear you. C’mon, Y/N, show me how much you love this.”
You hardly recognize the scream as your own; you flush at how loud you are, but Denki doesn’t seem to mind. It seems to spur him on. He sits up so your chest to chest before he bends down to tug at your nipple with his teeth. You throw your head back in pleasure, your hands coming around to grab at his hair. Golden eyes look up at you from your chest, a slight smirk curving his lips.
“I’m no photographer, baby girl, but I can sure as hell picture us together.”
Leave it to Denki Kaminari to make you come with a cheesy pickup line.
He gives one final thrust, balls slapping against your ass and hitting the spot deep inside you just right. Your thighs quiver from the pleasure wracking your body, a scream lodging out of your throat so loud that the people next door bang on the wall. You’re overwhelmed to the point that all you can do is rest your head on his shoulder, whispering his name in a broken whimper as you finish.
You fall next to him on the bed, sweaty and completely wiped, both of you trying to catch your breath. Denki tosses the condom in the trash while you stare at the ceiling, watching the fan swirl round and round. Your mind is no different at the moment, going round in circles, and you’re trying to catch up. Your body feels weightless, tingling all over and loving the high you didn’t think was possible. The bed shifts, and suddenly you’re faced with your best friend of five years. Before he can get a word out, the front door slams shut, and two very familiar, very masculine voices are down the hall, getting closer by the second.
“Kaminari, you lazy shit, get the fuck down here!”
“Shit!” Denki jumps from the bed, ruffling through the mess to find his pants.
“Denki, just lock the door! Hurry!”
It’s too late as the door swings open, and yeah… if today taught Denki anything, it’s that he really needs to lock his door more often. He doesn’t have time to think as he hops back into bed with you to avoid flashing any of his other friends today. Bakugou would probably threaten to chop his dick off and… yeah, Denki doesn’t wanna think about the rest.
You squeak and cover yourself with the blanket when you’re met with two sets of equally shocked crimson eyes.
Kirishima drops the bag of chips he’s holding. It seems like dropping things when walking into Denki’s room was a common theme today, and he’s sure as hell not looking forward to the cleanup. Denki regrets chancing a glance at Bakugou; nostrils flaring like a rabid predator on the loose and Denki’s his target.
The four of you stare at each other for who knows how long before Kirishima breaks out into a full-on grin.
“About time, bro, congrats!”
“Congrats?” You turn to Denki, confused.
“The fuck!? You bangin’ my ex, dunceface!?” Bakugou shouts.
“Please don’t hurt me!” Denki squeaks, hiding underneath the covers.
“Oi! You fuck like a man, you better fight like one, too!”
You roll your eyes, hardly affected by Bakugou’s exploding presence, unlike Denki, who is literally shaking beside you.
“Oh fuck off, Katsuki, listen to yourself. Keyword ex-girlfriend.”
Bakugou sputters, and Kirishima drags him by the shoulder.
“Don’t listen to him. He’s been in a mood since he found out he’s gonna be the next star of the Bachelor.”
“You wanna die too, shitty hair!?”
You and Denki burst out laughing at the absurdity of Katsuki forced to act like a gentleman on live TV. The image of Katsuki in a suit and tie, holding a rose and actually smiling, is comedic gold to you.
“C’mon, bro, let’s give ’em some space.”
“Oi! You’re on my shit list now! All of you! Aye! Get the fuck off me!”
Kirishima drags Bakugou the rest of the way, giving you a quick thumbs up on the way out.
You and Denki are still cracking up, but your laughter dies when they leave, and you’re faced with the tension from before. Denki sinks lower into the sheets, hating that he keeps getting walked in on. Who decided it was ‘make a fool out of Denki day’ anyway?
“So…” you start.
“So…” Denki finishes.
You both stare straight ahead at nothing.
“Did you mean it?”
You raise an eyebrow, clearly asking him to elaborate.
“What you said, when you... you know...” he makes a clicking noise with his mouth like that’s universal code for fucking, “Or was it just a heat of the moment thing?”
You take a moment to think before you give your response. You want to be as honest as possible, and not lead Denki on in any way. Of course, you loved him, he’s your best friend, but did you love him?
You think back on your friendship, and suddenly a supercut of all the times he was there for you flashes before your eyes. He was there when you needed someone to drive you when you had your wisdom teeth pulled out. You didn’t expect Denki to stay with you the whole weekend, buying you ice cream and watching your favorite movies, but he did.
He was there when you and Bakugou became an item, always listening to you swoon over how amazing a boyfriend he was. Denki would always respond with “But can he do this?” and would proceed to overuse his quirk like an overpowered Pikachu just to make you laugh. It sends a knife through your heart, knowing Denki was in love with you while you were talking about how great of a boyfriend his friend was. Not to mention how he was there when you and Bakugou broke up, heart-broken and vowing to swear off boys for good. Denki held you in his arms while you cried, staying silent the entire time, which you knew was against his nature. Denki was always there for you as a friend. There’s no doubt he’d be there for you as a lover.
“I meant it,” you say.
Tears threaten to spill, and your heart might burst out of your chest and land right into his hands. You hope he holds on to it forever. He squishes your cheeks and leans down to plant the softest kiss on your lips. This is what you’ve been missing - more like who you’ve been missing. You open your mouth to deepen the kiss, and he meets you move for move. He pulls away, hands still on your cheeks, grazing your cheekbones with his fingertips as he stares into your eyes.
“Denki, I…” You bite your lip, overcome with emotion. You desperately want to say the words to capture this picture-perfect moment forever.
Until you feel something poking your thigh.
“Denki!”
You yell, affronted he popped a boner in the middle of what was supposed to be a romantic moment.
“Sorry!”
“Ugh! Worst timing ever!” You slap his shoulder.
“Ow! I said I’m sorry!”
You wiggle out of his embrace. Silence eats at the room, and you can feel Denki’s energy radiating in uncomfortable frequencies. The last moment had been thoroughly ruined.
But you have all the time in the world to make more.
“... round two?”
Just seeing Denki’s face light up like Christmas is enough to promise the birth of a new moment. He bends over to grab his box of condoms, some spilling on the floor and adding more to the mess, before saying, “hell yeah!”
You roll your eyes with affection. What a weirdo, you think. But he’s your weirdo.
That night, or rather the next day since it was currently three in the morning, Denki plops down on his bed exhausted from the day. He’s fluffing his pillow, trying to get comfortable, when he feels something underneath. His eyes widen when he takes in the picture he’s holding. You must’ve taken it when he was downstairs and snuck it under his pillow. You’re bent over with that same damn lacy bra that sends him for a loop. Your cleavage deliciously on display as you bite your lip and stare at the camera with those innocent eyes. Denki can’t help it, his hand sliding down on instinct and cupping himself through his boxers. He turns the picture around and smiles at the cute little message written on the back.
“To add to your collection 😉”
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last weekend I caved and read everything you ever uploaded here once more agskshkdd this is who i am as a person. but im love your writing so much!!! i have an especially soft spot for the naga stories, are those the ones that are about half-snake people? i always mess up the names but how do you think bakugou (and or kiri) would be as a yandere one, when he falls for the reader? i can't remember you ever writing a snake-version of him and idk if you'd be up for it but i'm super curious! xoxoxo
Aww!! Thank you so much :)
And yes! Naga’s are the snake people, semi human from the torso up and giant ass snakes from the hips down!
Bakugou:
If there is one word to describe yandere Naga Bakugou its possessive. It takes a lot for him to chose a mate, he is incredibly picky, picking his mate much past the typical age but once he picks?? Possessive protective to the extreme. You are his mate to do with what he pleases, and absolutely no one is going to take you away from him. Hell, he gets pissy the second another creature, intelligent or not even looks at you. You won’t be leaving his nest any time soon after he snatches you up, even trying to peek over the edges of the flattened down bowl in the ground leads to you being dragged right back to the middle and getting angrily chewed out and huffed at as you get tucked right back into the nest.
I think he’d most likely fall for a darling who hikes or walks frequently in his forest for whatever reason. A hunter, camper, or just any kind of nature enthusiast will quickly catch his eye. You’re so small…and your body is so different than his and yet you constantly come back here, carelessly leaving your scent everywhere, as if inviting him to have a taste. He isn’t one to turn down the offer. He doesn’t have any form of patience, somewhere during a mid afternoon doze and lunch he’ll come to the conclusion that he wants you, all while still ripping the meaty remains of his prey off the bone. Right then and there he decides to have you, still picking meat from his teeth with the jagged edge of a bone. The next time he sees you you’ll be snatched up into his arms and dragged back to his nest, kicking and screaming left ignored as he unceremoniously dumps you in his nest and refuses to let you leave.
I picture him most likely picking a human mate tbh, He enjoys being bigger and stronger than his mate, justifying the overbearing desire to hide away and protect what's his, something other Nagas wouldn’t tolerate. Even if you don’t tolerate it it doesn’t really matter, he is bigger and stronger than you, and can easily just pick you right up and carry you back to where he wants you to be. Biting, kicking, punching, anything just bounces off his hard scales. Honestly fighting like that is more likely to turn him on than anything else~ If you have this much energy you clearly can put it towards incubating some of his eggs right? Hopefully that fiery spirit will pass on to his eggs once they hatch~
He’ll also be curious, painfully so, eagerly twisting and pulling you in his hold like a doll, poking and prodding as he inspects you. Its not often he sees a human so close without eating them. He’s cruel in the sense that he likes to poke your squishy spots just to listen to your cute noises and watch you try and wiggle away from him. Its hardly ever malicious, though, the claws in your mouth, feeling up your teeth. Or large hands encompassing your entire calf as he feels up your leg is pure curiosity. He’ll look almost childish, eyes wide with wonder as he watches you twist and bend, so small and fragile yet so resilient.
He’ll hiss and throw up a fit if you call him out on this but he is also incredibly cuddly. Maybe it’s just because of that protective nature of his but he loves wrapping around you, snuggling his face into your stomach, tongue darting out to smell your skin. Or maybe it has something to do with the fact that you are a breathing furnace compared to the cooler blooded beast. He’s so soft in those moments, eagerly nuzzling you and lapping up any attention you’ll give him, even if he huffs and insists its for your protection and warmth if you say anything. Human skin is so thin and you are so needy for warmth! How did you ever survive without him curling around you to keep you warm and chase off the chill of the night air. You’d be wise to keep your mouth shut about the fact that he is actually sapping your heat with his cold skin. Best not take those rare tender moments for granted, yeah?
Kirishima on the other hand leans more on the protective side of things. He’s younger than Bakugou, more on the naïve side of things and much more at the whims of his instincts. I think he’d honestly mate with the first little thing he comes across, unable to hold back and be patient at all. He’s a bit of a romantic at heart, in a terrifying, he’ll eat and swallow whoever you’re with whole when he sees you way. He wants nothing more than a happy loving mate, round and heavy with his eggs waiting for him when he comes back to his nest. He wants to protect and provide and snuggle with his cute little mate!
He’s brutal, eating and killing anything that comes close to you, and then immediately turning around and crooning and loving on you, rubbing up against you like a dog, his face still coated with any remains of what, or rather who, he just ate. (Lucky for you he prefers to swallow his prey whole…watching him gag up and spit out the bones that he cant digest isn’t a pleasant sight though.) Endlessly doting and so…incredibly suffocating. There will always be a hand, or head, or tail, or something pressed, wrapped, or snuggling against you. Half the time you feel like a living teddy bear as he cuddles and nuzzles you non stop, curling up in his nest and holding you close to his chest, face buried in your hair. The only time he tears himself from your side is to go hunting, and even then when he comes back you are scooped up and squished in his arms until he calms down again, extremely distressed from being separated from you.
He is obsessed with being a good mate for you, protecting, providing, and spoiling his partner. He’ll be traditional, hunting down larger pray than necessary just to impress you. Happily puffing his chest out when he dumps a bunch of hay and leaves into the nest, telling you that he knows humans cant sleep on hard rock comfortably, and so this will be more comfy! (Not that it does much, with how close he insists on being when cuddling, you practically sleep on him instead. Trapped against his firm chest as arms wrap tightly around you). Now this isn’t common behavior for nagas, but he’ll also bring you pretty little trinkets that he finds, gems or geodes he finds in his cave, pretty jewelry he steals from humans, rocks that he really likes and wants to share with you. Reacting positively to these gifts, maybe even making a small little pile for them in the nest will put him over the moon. He becomes so gushy and loving towards you for it you can get away with nearly anything after that.
Unlike Bakugou’s nest which is out in the open, daring any threat to even try and come close to his mate, Kiri hides you away. His nest will be hidden away in a maze like cave (He carved it out himself by hand! Something he very proudly tells you when the two of you can finally converse without you screaming or him fucking you silly). He never leaves your side, determined to protect and love you, but even in the moments he does, escape is hopeless. Even after crawling up the sides of the deep pit carved out of solid rock (you really don’t want to think how strong his claws are to carve out solid stone and made such deep grooves in the sides) you’ll be left wondering and aimless maze, impossible to not get lost or even get near the exit before Kirishima is back, rushing your side and picking you up into his arms in a panic. Naturally, being the innocent thing he is he assumes you missed him and went searching for him instead of trying to escape, but now you’re trapped in an even tighter hold under an even tighter watch as he tries “to make it up to you”.
With Kirishima you have a small chance, though. If you are loving and gentle enough to him, and you ask him so sweetly if you can get out of the cave just for a little bit! Promise! He may take you to a nearby river to play in the water, or a hotspring to soak together. Once you really have him wrapped around your finger you might be able to convince him to go on daily walks (slithers?) with him, only if you look sad and pout up at him enough, insisting that the cave is too dark and scary and you miss the sun. He’ll feel so bad he just might sunbathe with you outside for awhile too.
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their reaction to you coming out as trans!! : BOKUTO, KENMA, AKAASHI, OIKAWA, TSUKKI, & ASAHI ♥︎
CW: this covers topics such as gender dysphoria, transphobia, and ignorant parents. please be safe my loves!!
transphobes get the fuck outta here right now
also i’m ftm myself so i’m writing from my own experience! if you want a non binary one or even mtf let me know! ♥︎
BOKUTO
would be so very excited to go clothing shopping with you but also giving you all of his hoodies in the mean time-
would love to show you off as his official boyfriend, would fight transphobic people for you
“hey bo, can we talk?” you asked softly, only causing him to open his arms wide from where he was sitting on your bed. you crawled into his lap like you always did, your hands shaking a bit when your wrapped your arms around his neck. “what’s up little owl!” he smiled wide, flashing you that beautiful smile of his. “it’s sorta serious love..” you mumbled making his smile fall only a bit, it falling completely when you started crying. “lovebug? what’s wrong..you can talk to me baby” he soothed making you nod. “i know we’ve talked about your preferences before and i don’t know where i fall but-“ you hiccuped, trying to figure out how to say it. “i’m transgender..i want to be a boy” you sobbed out, ultimately terrified he’d leave even though you knew he wouldn’t. “no..” he started making you cry only harder, not even three seconds later were calloused fingers there to wipe them, “you are a boy..not want, right baby?” he smiled softly, kissing your nose.
KENMA
his emotions would hurt him first only because he wouldn’t fully understand why you’re so upset
best hair stylist in the game!! he’d do your hair so you don’t have to deal with judgemental old ladies and weird barbers.
would 100000000/10 drop anything hes doing to snuggle you since he knows how much of a bitch dysphoria can be
it actually happened by accident. currently you were in the bathroom, shaky hands on a pair of scissors you’d found in the kitchen. it was one of those moments. you weren’t officially out to anybody, not even your boyfriend just simply out of fear of being disliked. however when kenma came to use the bathroom after doing a five hour livestream her heart almost shattered right then and there. you were too into your head to even notice his presence, snapping back to reality when he took the scissors from you. that’s when the tears started. he was quickly to pull you close, kissing your head. “i think i understand..but if i don’t, please explain..” he whispered softly into your ear. “i-i..” you stuttered, you didn’t even know how to say it. “i’ve been dealing with my gender for awhile and came to the conclusion that im a boy..” you sniff, snuggling into his chest since the comfort felt good. “okay baby, you’re still mine okay?” he spoke so soft it was reassuring. “but come to me instead of butchering your hair, you know damn well i could cut it better. dork.” he winked sitting you down to actually cut your hair properly.
AKAASHI
wasn’t totally surprised even though he is oblivious to most things
he would be so sweet about it??????? he wouldn’t even question you???? just accepting right away
after you were ready to come out? god he would be so overbearing with how supportive he was. “hey have you seen my BOYFRIEND?” or “are you doing okay, pretty boy?” he would do it all the time
he already knew. you’d asked him to pack your laptop in your book bag since you guys were going to study at the library. he usually didn’t snoop and honestly minded his business, but when he saw what he thought was a dildo his curiosity was peaked. you had millions of tabs open, all pertaining to the concept of gender identity. his heart softened sadly, upset by the fact you did this all alone. you came up to check what was taking him so long, face dropping when you saw what was open, “i-i promise i can explain-!” you rush forward but he quickly wraps two arms around you, kissing you softly. “shush. you don’t need to explain.” he smiled, “your preferred name and pronouns my darling?” he hummed in addition, grinning from the blush on your cheeks. “uhm..y/n..and he/him..please..” you whisper making him nod, “i’ve got the cutest boyfriend every yanno that?”
OIKAWA
would make fun of you for a bit until he realized this was actually serious
he would also apologize profusely for doing so.
would go out and buy you 67963334 slacks just to see you in them i know it
“tooru i’m serious!” you’d whimper, genuine tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. that’s when he knew he took it too far. “hey..i was just joking around…does me calling you girlie actually make you uncomfortable? why?” he was confused but then again you couldn’t blame them. you’d told iwa you were trans, hoping to get someway to tell oikawa but there wasn’t much acknowledgment of him at all. “yes..it does” you nodded wiping your eyes. “is it because you’re trans?” all the air in your lungs was knocked out of you at this. “how did you..” you’d ask softly, “i dunno! i’m just really good at this!” he giggled before kissing your head and getting off the couch you two were on. “one minute!” he ran upstairs and about five minutes later came back with all his old clothes he outgrew. “here! ‘ma saved them for donating to relatives but your more important” he hummed making you blush, “tooru you don’t-“ “and what’s your pants size?” “uh-i-“ “it’s okay doesn’t matter we’ll get all of them.” “ALL OF WHAT.” and that’s honestly how the rest of your night went.
TSUKKI
he wasn’t totally surprised but then again he knew how your parents were and would understand your hesitation for coming out
it didn’t really phase him at all. have you seen his gender nonconforming best friend? tsukki wouldn’t care unless you were authentically yourself.
would always give you reassurance, no matter how much you needed.
you’d come to your boyfriends house for the third night this week, his mom more than happy to let you stay. “he’s upstairs!” she’d smile from where she was making dinner. you already knew where to find his room, so coming inside and throwing your bags down casually wasn’t an issue at all. “y/n how many times do i have to tell your messy ass that you don’t put bags in the middle of the-“ he spun in his desk chair to look at you, his face falling the second he saw your face go red and tears streaming down your face. tsukki fucking SUCKED with emotions but he wouldn’t be pathetic and not try. “cmere moonie, what’s wrong” he frowned getting up and sitting on the bed, pulling you down with him. “i told them” you stated simply, his own anxiety kicked in. “and?” he asked, already knowing the answer. “they kicked me out.” you nodded towards the fourish bags you had dropped. “well..fuck them. here you’ll be loved and respected. they don’t deserve you. no one does. now, ill ask mom if we can move in the old dresser from akiterus room..you make yourself comfy. change, take of makeup, whatever it is. here? you’re allowed to be who you are.” and with that he was gone. tsukki may look like an asshole but he tries his best not to be for you.
ASAHI
wouldn’t initially get it, but it would take some explaining and he’d be absolutely on board
would probably smoother you in love and affection for being brave enough to tell him how you’ve been feeling
similar to akaashi he’d be quick to correct those who use incorrect pronouns (unless you tell him not too) while expressing love for his boyfriend
dating asahi had plenty of benefits, most importantly his ability to scare those off who were rude to you. you had come out to him a week ago, he needed some help understanding the process but soon he was very on board and understanding. now you two were eating lunch with noya and tanaka, watching a group of girls who ever now and then looked back at you to laugh and point. you’d just gotten your gender affirming hair cut the night before. you began to feel very self conscious about everything, just slowly tucking yourself into asahi who immediately realized something was wrong. “what’s up babe?” he asked watching you nod towards the group. with that he gently passed you over to noya who was very excited for the hugs he was allowed to give his close friend. needless to say asahi scared the living hell out of those girls. when all was said and done, he took you to the boys bathroom and locked the door. he simply hugged you, rubbing your back while you almost immediately cried. “it’s okay bunny..i’m sorry people can’t mind their own business-not that it’s my fault-i dunno why i apologized-sorry-i-“ he took a deep breath but his nervous rambling had made you giggle. “thank you, you giant teddy bear” you smiled leaning up to give him a nice soft kiss.
#haikyuu!!#haikyuu#haikyuu x reader#tsukishima kei#tsukishima imagine#bokusof hq#asahi headcanons#hq asahi#oikawa x you#oikawa tooru#oikawa imagine#oikawa headcanons#akaashi imagine#akaashi keiji#asahi azumane#kenma hcs#kenma kuzome#hq bokuto#haikyuu bokuto#bokuto koutaro
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