#just make sure it’s what YOU want to post | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

staff · 2 days

Text

We Asked an Expert...in Herpetology!

People on Tumblr come from all walks of life and all areas of expertise to grace our dashboards with paragraphs and photographs of the things they want to share with the world. Whether it's an artist uploading their speed art, a fanfic writer posting their WIPs, a language expert expounding on the origin of a specific word, or a historian ready to lay down the secrets of Ea-nasir, the hallways of Tumblr are filled with specialists sharing their knowledge with the world. We Asked an Expert is a deep dive into those expert brains on tumblr dot com. Today, we’re talking to Dr. Mark D. Scherz (@markscherz), an expert in Herpetology. Read on for some ribbeting frog facts, including what kind of frog the viral frog bread may be based on.

Reptiles v Amphibians. You have to choose one.

In a battle for my heart, I think amphibians beat out the reptiles. There is just something incredibly good about beholding a nice plump frog.

In a battle to the death, I have to give it to the reptiles—the number of reptiles that eat amphibians far, far outstrips the number of amphibians that eat reptiles.

In terms of ecological importance, I would give it to the amphibians again, though. Okay, reptiles may keep some insects and rodents in check, but many amphibians live a dual life, starting as herbivores and graduating to carnivory after metamorphosis, and as adults they are critical for keeping mosquitos and other pest insects in check.

What is the most recent exciting fact you discovered about herps?

This doesn’t really answer your question, but did you know that tadpole arms usually develop inside the body and later burst through the body wall fully formed? I learned about this as a Master’s student many years ago, but it still blows my mind. What’s curious is that this apparently does not happen in some of the species of frogs that don’t have tadpoles—oh yeah, like a third of all frogs or something don’t have free-living tadpoles; crazy, right? They just develop forelimbs on the outside of the body like all other four-legged beasties. But this has only really been examined in a couple species, so there is just so much we don’t know about development, especially in direct-developing frogs. Like, how the hell does it just… swap from chest-burster to ‘normal’ limb development? Is that the recovery of the ancestral programming, or is it newly generated? When in frog evolution did the chest-burster mode even evolve?

How can people contribute to conservation efforts for their local herps?

You can get involved with your local herpetological societies if they exist—and they probably do, as herpetologists are everywhere. You can upload observations of animals to iNaturalist, where you can get them identified while also contributing to datasets on species distribution and annual activity used by research scientists.

You can see if there are local conservation organizations that are doing any work locally, and if you find they are not, then you can get involved to try to get them started. For example, if you notice areas of particularly frequent roadkill, talking to your local council or national or local conservation organizations can get things like rescue programs or road protectors set up. You should also make sure you travel carefully and responsibly. Carefully wash and disinfect your hiking boots, especially between locations, as you do not want to be carrying chytrid or other nasty infectious diseases across the world, where they can cause population collapses and extinctions.

Here are some recent headlines. Quick question, what the frog is going on in the frog world?

Click through for Mark’s response to these absolutely wild headlines, more about his day-to-day job, his opinion on frog bread, and his favorite Tumblr.

✨D I S C O V E R Y✨

There are more people on Earth than ever before, with the most incredible technology that advances daily at their disposal, and they disperse that knowledge instantly. That means more eyes and ears observing, recording, and sharing than ever before. And so we are making big new discoveries all the time, and are able to document them and reach huge audiences with them.

That being said, these headlines also showcase how bad some media reporting has gotten. The frogs that scream actually scream mostly in the audible range—they just have harmonics that stretch up into ultrasound. So, we can hear them scream, we just can’t hear all of it. Because the harmonics are just multiples of the fundamental, they would anyway only add to the overall ‘quality’ of the sound, not anything different. The mushroom was sprouting from the flank of the frog, and scientists are not really worried about it because this is not how parasitic fungi work, and this is probably a very weird fluke. And finally, the Cuban tree frogs (Osteocephalus septentrionalis) are not really cannibals per se; they are just generalist predators who will just as happily eat a frog as they will a grasshopper, but the frogs they are eating are usually other species. People seem to forget that cannibalism is, by definition, within a species. The fact that they are generalist predators makes them a much bigger problem than if they were cannibals—a cannibal would actually kind of keep itself in check, which would be useful. The press just uses this to get people’s hackles up because Westerners are often equal parts disgusted and fascinated by cannibalism.

What does an average day look like for the curator of herpetology at the Natural History Museum of Denmark?

No two days are the same, and that is one of the joys of the job. I could spend a whole day in meetings, where we might be discussing anything from which budget is going to pay for 1000 magnets to how we could attract big research funding, to what a label is going to say in our new museum exhibits (we are in the process of building a new museum). Equally, I might spend a day accompanying or facilitating a visitor dissecting a crocodile or photographing a hundred snakes. Or it might be divided into one-hour segments that cover a full spectrum: working with one of my students on a project, training volunteers in the collection, hunting down a lizard that someone wants to borrow from the museum, working on one of a dozen research projects of my own, writing funding proposals, or teaching classes. It is a job with a great deal of freedom, which really suits my work style and brain.

Oh yeah, and then every now and then, I get to go to the field and spend anywhere from a couple of weeks to several months tracking down reptiles and amphibians, usually in the rainforest. These are also work days—with work conditions you couldn’t sell to anyone: 18-hour work days, no weekends, no real rest, uncomfortable living conditions, sometimes dangerous locations or working conditions, field kitchen with limited options, and more leeches and other biting beasties than most health and welfare officers would tolerate—but the reward is the opportunity to make new discoveries and observations, collect critical data, and the privilege of getting to be in some of the most beautiful and biodiverse places left on the planet. So, I am humbled by the fact that I have the privilege and opportunity to undertake such expeditions, and grateful for the incredible teams I collaborate with that make all of this work—from the museum to the field—possible.

The Tibetan Blackbird is also known as Turdus maximus. What’s your favorite chortle-inducing scientific name in the world of herpetology?

Among reptiles and amphibians, there aren’t actually that many to choose from, but I must give great credit to my friend Oliver Hawlitschek and his team, who named the snake Lycodryas cococola, which actually means ‘Coco dweller’ in Latin, referring to its occurrence in coconut trees. When we were naming Mini mum, Mini scule, and Mini ature, I was inspired by the incredible list that Mark Isaac has compiled of punning species names, particularly by the extinct parrot Vini vidivici, and the beetles Gelae baen, Gelae belae, Gelae donut, Gelae fish, and Gelae rol. I have known about these since high school, and it has always been my ambition to get a species on this list.

If you were a frog, what frog would you be and why?

I think I would be a Phasmahyla because they’re weird and awkward, long-limbed, and look like they’re wearing glasses. As a 186 cm (6’3) glasses-wearing human with no coordination, they quite resonate with me.

Please rate this frog bread from 1/10. Can you tell us what frog it represents?

With the arms inside the body cavity like that, it can basically only be a brevicipitid rain frog. The roundness of the body fits, too. I’d say probably Breviceps macrops (or should I say Breadviceps?) based on those big eyes. 7/10, a little on the bumpy side and missing a finger and at least one toe.

Please follow Dr. Mark Scherz at @markscherz for even more incredibly educational, entertaining, and meaningful resources in the world of reptiles and amphibians.

#we asked an expert #markscherz #frog #herpetology

1K notes · View notes

starkeysprincess · 2 days

Note

rafe is the type where if you gently try to tell him that he’s a little selfish in bed he’ll “make it up to you” (he says that sarcastically) by tying you to the bed and making you cum over and over again with his fingers, mouth, even a few of those toys you thought he didn’t know about and ruining them for you but not his cock no matter how bad you’re crying because you “clearly didn’t appreciate it before” 🙂‍↕️

wait, i love this cause he would pull this shit fs warnings: slightly mean!rafe, light bondage, mentions of overstimulation, oral (f receiving), fingering, use of vibrator & i think that's it ??? a/n: sorry this is short, im working on assignments but i wanted to write this & post it as soon as you sent this earlier so sorry if this is shitty

"i'll make it up to you" were the exact words that left his mouth, leaving you to believe he was going to be gentle with you but you should've known better by the cocky little smirk on his face.

maybe telling your boyfriend that he's a little selfish in bed probably wasn't your best idea because it led you to your current situation, which was having your wrists tied to the headboard of your bed, your legs pried open and his face buried between your legs.

you attempted to close your legs but his large hands pinned your thighs down to your bed, squirming under him, on the verge of your third or fourth orgasm but at this point, you're not sure because you lost count.

your brain is fuzzy, the only thing you really remember is how many times he made you cum with his fingers and now he's determined to make you cum again but with his mouth instead. he's enjoying the sight of you writhing just from his mouth and he chuckles against your dripping cunt as you cry out, cumming on his tongue.

your eyes shut, trying to control your breathing as you're relieved when he pulls away and moves away, your legs trembling and clit throbbing from the previous orgasms. he admires your panting, trembling form for a few seconds and your eyes spring open when you feel a familiar vibration against your clit.

you look between him and your vibrator that was in his hand with wide eyes. "what? didn't think i'd know about this, huh?" he grins, pressing the vibrator further against your clit, "you can never hide anything from me, princess".

he pushes two of his fingers inside of you causing you to gasp while he continued to toy with your clit with the vibrator, increasing the speed the more you whined and whimpered.

you're not sure how much more you can take and all you want is to feel his cock inside of you. "r-rafe" you stammered out, your voice shaking, tears welling in your eyes. "r-rafe" he mimicked, his eyes glued to yours as he's pushing his fingers in and out of you, curling them.

he sets the vibrator to its highest setting, making your tears stream down your face, "so fuckin' pretty when you're cryin' for me" he grins. "p-please" you stutter, "what is it, baby?" he hummed, "n-need you inside of me" you plead.

"no can do, baby, just giving you what you want, what you desperately need" he teases, "thought i'd make it easy for you?" he tsked, "you clearly didn't appreciate my cock so i gotta show you what happens when you call me selfish".

tagging: @oceandriveab / @babygorewhore / @xxbimbobunnyxx / @drudyslut / @drewstarkeyslut / @rafescurtainbangz / @hallecarey1 / @heartsforvin / @redhead1180 / @eddieslut69 9 / @eternalbuckley / @kisses4angel / @hyperfixationgirl / @emilysuperswag / @ihe4rttwd / @42internetgirl / @lilacheavenn / @monkichixo / @rafesthroatbaby / @zyafics / @sturnioloshacker / @dragonslutsblog

642 notes · View notes

afatkidclub · 23 hours

Text

Older Boyfriend Simon Riley

Thanks to the notes on my last post, I will be posting this blurb here. It's just for shits and giggles.

Older Boyfriend!Simon Riley who has been the best boyfriend you have ever had.

Refuses to let you call a handyman. Leaky sink? He had it fixed before you even knew there was a problem. Squeaky desk chair? Suddenly completely silent.

Gets really competitive with Mario Kart and refuses to play again after losing a couple of rounds. Gets really into Minecraft but doesn’t let you help build things because “You’re doing it wrong” even though you’re the one who taught him how to play

Does not understand girl math.

-- “The fuck you mean it’s not real money

-- “If I use cash, it’s free because it doesn’t come out of my account. Therefore it’s not real money.”

-- “I’m pretty sure that’s not how it works.”

-- Now drops cash in your purse so that you have “fake” money to use.

Hates girl dinner only because he knows that a bowl of popcorn or a couple crackers and cheese is not a full meal.

A year of his life drops off every time he hears you saying “I’m doing it for the plot.”

Refuses to download tiktok but will watch them on your phone with you for hours at a time

Went on a very long lecture about the Roman Empire and how it came to be (talk specifically about the military aspect) once you mentioned something was your Roman empire. Didn’t even notice you had fallen asleep halfway through the lecture. Still doesn’t know what you mean when you say something is your Roman Empire.

Has absolutely no idea what you mean when you say “same.”

-- You had to explain that it was just something you said when you found anything relatable

-- “What the bloody hell could be relatable about a plastic bag blowing across the road.”

Has attempted to use the word slay in a sentence and it only ended with you in the longest laughing fit known to man.

Listens to you explain celebrity beef and wonders why you talk about them like you know them personally and how you know all this information.

Vine references, goes right over his head.

-- One time quoted “Road work ahead, uh yeah I sure hope it does” after you had done it so many times, you nearly choked to death on air that day.

Emojis are his worst enemy. Never gets the message when you try to hint at something using emojis.

Learns very early on that anytime you two go out for errands, you require a sweet treat.

-- Uses going out to get a sweet treat as an excuse to take you out on dates

-- Also makes sure to buy you a sweet treat anytime you complete a task you didn’t want to do.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley hcs #ghost cod #ghost x reader #ghost hcs #call of duty hcs #call of duty #ghost call of duty

455 notes · View notes

whore-ibly-hot · 23 hours

Text

Yandere Boarding school thoughts... (Gender Neutral)

18+ Minors DNI

Warnings: Multiple yanderes, non-con touching, dub-con, perverted thoughts, obsession, bullying, masturbation, aphrodisiacs, general perversion, dry-humping, voyeurism, controlling behaviors, typical yandere stuff, breeding, drug usage, horny posting.

(AN: I have rizz-en from my grave to be horny once more. All of these guys are avaliable for requests, but will be listed under the materlist simply as Yan!Boarding School.)

Background: Thinking about a Headmasters child!Reader at a private boarding school. For a Fem!Reader, perhaps you're just visiting daddy for the season while he's running the school, or maybe you've been bad, and need more supervision. For a Masc!Reader, it could be the same case, however, with Blackmoore Academy being an all male school, this opens up the availability for reader to be attending.

Students and faculty scenarios and profile:

◇ Harrison Spence, star member of the swim steam, basketball player, and golden boy. Despite jock stereotypes, he's respectful and mature. He always looks out for others, and this lends to why your father suggests rooming with him. Plus... if anything were to happen, your father wouldn't hate to have him as a son in law. He's SOOO friendly when he meets you. Those big strong arms are perfectly suited to lug your bags upstairs to his room. Want help putting stuff away, sure! For a Fem!Reader, he's not suprised how awkward he is when he's unzipping your suitcase, only to be met with some thin lacy garments. He just coughs and backs off. For a Masc!Reader, he wears boxers too! So why does he still feel so hot. He should open a window.

He'll make sure you fit in around campus, mostly steering you in the direction of the athletics department. He'd love to see you at some of his games, cheering him on. You seem so nice, he could really seem himself with you long term, the more he thinks about crushing on you. Besides, you already share a living space. He feels awful about how his body reacts anytime you're too close. You left a jacket behind that smells just like you? He tries not to think about the consequences of fisting his cock into it. Late night out at one of his games? Who cares if you share a dorm and your bed is literally six feet away, it's too far of a walk. Slide into his bed, he's a gentleman. At least until he wakes up the next morning, mind foggy as he instinctively moves his cock up over the waist band, putting a leaky tip against your ass as he resists the urge to press his head into your neck, opting for a pillow instead. He's so, so sorry, but he's gott a deal with it, and you just feel so good. He rationalizes it by saying he's not just some horned up guy, no. You're his roommate, HIS. And what would the Headmasters think! No, he wants a future with you, romance, not just a warm hole to rut...

"Hey, roomie! Listen, practice is running kinda late tonight, so I'm gonna grab food on the way back. Why don't you text me your order, I can bring it back. We can make a whole thing out of it, no need to pay me back! I'm thinking burgers?"

◇ Carter Matthews, student body president, scholar, and in every AP class possible. Even some dumb ones. He doesn't pay much mind to you, you ate very attractive but so is he. If he felt the need for a relationship, he could get whomever he wanted. But he hates... hates how you make the other students, even some of the faculty act. He can't help but follow you around, making sure you obey curfew, and don't get into any trouble. He likes to keep order around here, and it bothers him to have to ignore his student body presidential duties to make sure some delinquent isn't trying to slip you a spiked drink, or some jock has you under the bleachers trying to get your mouth wrapped around their tips.

Eventually, he decides you could be helpful instead of a hinderance. He's busy, may need a form of stress relief, and given babysitting you when Harrison isn't around is one of the main sources of that stress, why shouldn't you help him out. Besides, you look so cute flustered. Maybe it starts small, he tells you your uniform bottoms aren't regulation, and while he tugs them down to 'fix' them, his hands wander a bit too much, grazing the soft skin of your ass. During random room inspections, he may let his hatred of the sports program taking up all the funding by mentioning how obvious it is your roommate wants to stick it in you. Harrison can't stand him, not trusting the cold creepy gaze of the prefect. He'll force you to come to student council meetings, under the guise of assisting him with preparing for a faculty dinner to appease your father, only to get you under his desk while he writes, trying to guide you with one stern hand. He doesn't like to go too deep, not one to enjoy gagging or unnecessary sound that would distract him from working.

"Keep it down." He scolds, cold eyes peering down through blonde bangs. With a sigh, his free hand strokes your cheek. "Just suckle, alright? There'll be plenty of time after I'm done for you to make sweet noises around my cock..."

◇ Evan Reed, CAPTAIN of the swim team, and student assistant PE coach. He's used to play basketball alongside Harrison, but got kicked out for being too violent. Shoving, pushing, and going as far as knocking teeth out. He's a fucking animal. He's handsome, of not a bit of a loner. He isn't popular or unpopular, people tend to leave him alone because of that bad boy attitude and his temper, but he's always welcome to party with the jocks, welcomed into parties and known as a keg-stand king. And boy do you catch his eyes, giving that your always hanging off Harrison, or being trailed by Carter. He's more than happy to accompany you to the pool or help you out in gym class, but it's obvious what he wants. He'll get up behind you in the pool, still smelling of cigarettes as he asks mundane questions while trying to pull your swimsuit to the side and get his hands on that sweet spot between your thighs. Or maybe he'll sit on the edge of the pool, congratulate you on how good your doing, legs spread as he pulls you between them, hoping you'll end up accidentally eyeing his cock. If you are a Masc!Reader, then there's definitely some internalized homophbia. He'll make sure you know these are just normal friend activities, even when he's got you bent over in the boys locker room, ass up. He doesn't EVER plan to be the one on the bottom.

He's a player, chasing tail outside of the school, hitting on peers sisters and mom's alike. But now, he plans to keep you around, not because he necessarily feels like he wants a romantic relationship with you, but because he loooooves how pissed it makes Harrison. He never liked the goody two-shoes, and half suspects he's one of the people who pushed to get him kicked out of basketball. He likes to pick on people, but Harrison sees himself as a knight in shining armor. So it gives Evan a major power boner to make you grind up against him on the dancefloor at some preppy party, while Harrison just has to stand by and not crush his beer can. Evan knows harrison will never, ever do anything to ruin your good guy image of him. Ever.

He's pissed, punching a locker as he let's out a growl. 4-0, what the fuck is wrong with his team? How could they get fucked over so bad after weeks of missing parties for shitty practices. Luckily for him, he sees you on the sidelines, probably waiting for Harrison to walk you back to your dorm. He takes this opportunity to slide up behind you, hands on your hips as you can feel his angry erection rutting up against your ass. "You. Me. Locker room, five minutes, stall three. Be ready, underwear off and bent over or I'll take you in front of the guys who are still changing? Got it?" He departs with a harsh smack on your rear.

◇ Joseph Mick, he's in the newspaper, but it's not like he's the head or anything. He just love photography, and he's the only guy at school to have really mastered the dark room. He's known to be a little... odd. He's the youngest in you and Harrisons class, with a petite stature and thin, lanky arms. He's pale, almost gaunt, but that could be a lack of sunlight given that he spends all his time in the dark room or toiling over photo arrangement mock-ups in the journalism room. People avoid him, but he's okay with that. He's more than happy to just watch from a distance, and photography is his real branch to the world. People only talk to him or react positively if he's taking photos for the paper or the school newsletter. He actually meets you at one of Evan's swim meets, he gets good seats for being student press, and you get good seats for just being Evan's new favorite piece of ass. Your aren't even sure why you were invited, you don't even know anything about how one wins a swimming competition. But Joseph does. He's been to enough of these, and you notice, so you lean over and start asking him questions. He's shocked someone is talking to him, and not about getting a bigger feature in the yearbook. He's more than happy to help point stuff out to you, even if he had to repeat himself or stutter his way through something. He's feeling his heart flutter and his hands shake so much so he can barely hold the camera. Soon, he's watching as you walk away, wishing he could grab onto you and hang you up on his wall to admire like one of his pictures. It's only made worse when he sees a pair of masculine arms dragging you into the boys locker room.

He's a stalker, but it's not his fault! For one, he's got no idea how to approach anyone, much less someone he likes as much as you. And since he's got that reputation as a creep, if he approached you in public, Harrison would be polite but firm at shooing him away, Carter would give him a look that makes him feel like a worm beneath his well polished shoes, and Evan would beat him to the brink of death, but then pass him over to his friends. But God, if he didn't think it was worth it sometimes to just be close to you. He can only get as close to you as his high-focus lens will allow. He's got hundreds of photos of you, some taken by him, some by campus security cams, and he treats each one like the piece that's gonna get him into a top art school. He almost feels bad taking risqué shots of you. He's always following you, and he sees the ways those... those pigs are treating you. If he could stand up to them, he would. He sees (from the cameras he's slipped into your bag) the boner Harrison is always sporting when he in your presence, he even caught a glance of Harrisons late night rendezvous with your pillow. He sees the way Carter leads you through the hallways like his little secretary, lithe fingers trying to get up your uniform bottoms. Worst of all is the way he sees Evan humping you in the pool like a dog in heat, with you obviously unsure about how you feel about this. He knows he'd treat you right, if you'd ever consider being with something like him. Notice he almost feels too bad to take risqué pictures. He can't help it if a picture or two from one of his hidden cams has a bit of an upskirt, or gets a little to zoomed in on your pecs. But know that as he drums humps the table in the dark room, those copies are only so he can keep one in his room and one on his person! He'd never, ever share your sexual exploits, not like Evan would, always bragging about what he does with, or more likely to you.

Being on the newspaper staff, he's got a pretty good idea of everyone's schedules. He's more than happy to try and squeak out some words to you if he knows your many admirers are preoccupied. Trust him, he knows A LOT of good spots to share a meal privately or maybe... maybe you'd like to see the dark room? He's even got a pillow in there, a cushion he can place on a soft stool in case you ever came to visit. He hopes he could get a private photoshoot in, maybe with some silly pictures of you, or even some lewd pics, he's just happy to see his collection expand. He doesn't have a lot of money, but he's more than happy to buy you as much cheap vending machine food as you want as long as you'll spend time with him.

"Oh, shi- hey! I didn't realize you'd be stopping by here. I'm just, uh, editing some photos for the paper." You don't notice as he slyly moves a tray of pics taken outside a dorm window that looks suspiciously like yours. He thanks whoever is out there in this moment that the dark room has a sink as he keeps his right hand out of sight.

◇ Tyler Mertz and Percy 'Pez' Goldberg, two outsiders, and self proclaimed 'dudes with bad tudes'. Put into the same headcanon spot because they aren't ever seen apart. Tyler and Pez got in on scholarship, and immediately bonded because they know they don't fit in among the rich kids at Ridgemoore. Tyler got in on a scholarship to pursue culinary excellence, because if he can do one thing, it's cook. Pez was awarded a scholarship by lottery two years ago, and even though he's barely passing most of his classes and is the biggest delinquent in school, he can't be kicked out. The school made too much of a big deal about his acceptance to create some good press, the faculty are planning to just wait the problem out. Repeating a year hasn't helped with that, though. Still, they are attached at the hip. Both struggle in classes, Pez because of a shitty social life and even shittier focus, and Tyler because he's just a little slow. Still, Tyler excels in cooking, and the faculty know he's trying. There's a few ways you might come across the pair. Maybe you decided to take culinary, and got paired up with a sweet, dopey guy who turns out to be a fucking MasterChef, or maybe your a brat!reader, like I mentioned earlier, and you meet Pez in detention, where he's glad to know the schools newest troublemaker is a looker too. Most likely, you come across them when either Evan makes you tag along to buy some weed and half-priced shitty beer for a post-game party, or Carter tells you he'll personally see to it that your father tethers you to him if he sees you talking to those 'deliquents'. Either way, they're probably some of the nicest guys in the school, even though Pez likes to fight. He's not a bad guy, but the school can't seem to recognize half of the shit he does is in retaliation to someone fucking with him or his friend.

Pez will like any kind of reader, any. If you're bratty!reader, he loves having someone to run around and bust shit up with. But he'll promise to leave the statue of your father alone, if that's what you want. If you're an innocent!reader, he can't deny he'd love to ruin that good guy/girl image you have going on. Smoke a little weed, sneak out a little, let him show you a good time. He promises he won't cross any lines or do something that would really scare or upset you. He's not a bad guy, he just wants to show you there's so much stuff out there to do. Unlike Joseph, he doesn't let the fact that others think he's a freak keep him from hanging with you. He wants them to see that you like him. HIM. He thinks your adorable no matter who you are, and frankly, snuggling up on the Headmasters kid is just another act of defiance he's happy to flaunt. Eventually, he might even open up to you about his shitty home life, and the fact he's only called Pez cause' when he's high that candy is all he wants to eat.

Tyler is a huge softie. He doesn't let the thing people say about him get to him, mostly because he's a bit dense in the moment to know he's being made fun of, but also because he's okay with being alone. He's happy with who he is, a nice guy. But, that doesn't mean he doesn't love his best buddy, or mind adding you to there little group. It's just one more mouth to feed in his eyes. He'll walk you to all your classes, slinging his big arms around you and keeping you close to his side. Unlike Pez, he grew up with a pretty loving family, and they're what he misses most about being away at boarding school. Most of the money he makes selling weed with Pez goes back to his family, but they don't really know how he makes it. He comes to see you and Pez as his new little family.

With these two, there will be lots of late nights with bad movies and pizza made from scratch. Being on some rundown couch squished between to large bodies, at least one set of arms wrapped around your waist. I think they both are pretty open about telling each other about the crush they have on you, given that they are best buds. These idiots probably got super high one night, and Tyler let slip that he, quote, 'thinks he wants to put a baby in you', to which Pez replies he'd like to put something along those lines in you too. It wouldn't be hard for them to both come to terms with wanting to share you, they share everything else. They just hope you'd want both of them, Pez and Tyler can't stand the thought of making things awkward by you only wanting one of them, so they both subtly try to transition you into the roll of being their partner.

Pez would be fucking fuming when he starts realizing the things boys at school are doing to you. Whether he witnesses it himself, or you come to him and Tyler seeking comfort, he'll pound the shit out of anyone who tries to touch you like that. If you like someone else, Pez wouldn't wail on them to eliminate a rival like Evan would, but rather he hands it over to Tyler. Tyler would come up with some rumors, maybe a reason the guy isn't right for you, and why would Tyler lie? He doesn't feel great about lying, but thinking about the things guys at this school do to you, fills the sweet chefs stomach with a bitter bile.

They wouldn't outright pressure you into sex, but rather try and find ways to coerce you into requesting or initiating it. Pez has some weed laced with something, nothing too strong, but it'll make even a nun feel a little frisky. He'll lay back or rub your thigh, hoping the weed will relax you enough to come out and say what you want. Maybe an aphrodisiac or two gets slipped into a warm drink Tyler made for you. It gets you feeling all hot, but don't worry, you can stay in their room overnight and wear their clothes, so they can... make sure you're not sick or anything.

"Hey," you can feel a pair of arms wrap around you from your spot at the library table. You look up and see Pez, with Tyler now playfully laying his head on the table beside you. "Heard that shithead Evan's got an away game, so it looks like your freed up after all to spend a little time with your favorite guys." His lips are dangerously close to your ear, making you squirm. "Yeah, man, we've got a bunch of movies n' shit from the store, and I'll even make your favorite. Stay the night, it's not like we've got anywhere to be tommorow, and my beds so cold..." Tyler teases playfully, eyes wide and feigning sadness.

All these boys make it difficult to get any alone time at Ridgemoor, but the men certainly don't make it easier... (Taboo part two with the faculty coming soon, because I'm horny for Dilfs and old men with questionable dynamics with reader.)

#yandere #yandere oc #tw.yandere #yandere fanfiction #yandere boy #tw.bullying #tw.noncon #yandere smut #yandere x reader #x reader #yandere headcanons #tw.dubcon #gender neutral reader #yandere oc x reader #drabble #yandere boarding school #x reader smut #yandere boarding school x reader #tw.breeding

766 notes · View notes

lizlovestofangirl · 1 day

Text

"he just comes running over to me"

ln4 x journalist!reader

🎧 - the alchemy by taylor swift

what will the world do when they find out lando is dating the internet's favorite f1 journalist?

MASTERLIST

--------------------------------------------------------

liked by charles_leclerc, mercedesamgf1, francisca.cgomez, and others

yourusername so much love for japan 🇯🇵🍡

view comments:

scuderiaferrari our favorite to have in the paddock

yourusername admin 🥹🥹

user she is THE f1 girl

liked by author

carlossainz55 siempre es bueno verte y/n (it's always good to see you)

yourusername love ️

f1academy come see us next time!

liked by author

alexandrasaintmluex in love with you

yourusername wife 💍

charles_leclerc hello???

yourusername shush charles

mclaren thanks for the interviews this weekend!

yourusername of course! i'll makes sure to wear some papaya next weekend 😉

user OMG WHO DID SHE INTERVIEW

user lando!! i think it's on youtube and probably the espn broadcast if you want to watch

the japan interview

instagram

liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri, mclaren, and others

landonorris p5, thanks for a great weekend everyone 🇯🇵

view comments:

oscarpiastri good race, mate

user the papaya boy bond 🥹

yourusername what a pretty face!!

landonorris STOP IM SORRY IT JUST SLIPPED OUT

yourusername sureeeee it did

landonorris i swear on my teammate

oscarpiastri well im dead then

carlossainz55 see you in 🇨🇳

liked by author

mclaren 🧡🧡🧡

danielricciardo just saw the interview mate, holy are you down bad

landonorris guys stop it's not like that

charles_leclerc sure!

georgerussel63 that's totally believable!

pierregasly 100%!

landonorris at least it's only you guys

francesca.cgomez it's not

alexandrasaintmluex it's not

lilyzneimer it's not

iamrebeccad it's not

landonorris are you guys done

carlossainz55 no

yourusername's story

view reply from landonorris

landonorris PLEASE LET THE JOKE DIE

yourusername never 😊

twitter

yourusername's stories

📍miami, usa

view reply from yourbestfriend

yourbestfriend OH MY GOD

yourusername what? i definitely didn't go on a date with the guy of my dreams last night

view reply from alexandrasaintmluex

alexandrasaintmluex Y/N THIS IS EVERYTHING

liked by yourusername

liked by yourusername, f1, carlossainz55, and others

landonorris WWE FUCKIJG DID IT. P1 🏆

view comments:

oscarpiastri congrats, mate 🧡

landonorris couldnt have done it without you, osc

yourusername WOOOOO 🏆

user ARIANA WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE

user so they're in love

liked by author

mclaren PROUDLY PAPAYA

landonorris 🧡

carlossainz55 congrats, cabrón

georgerussel63 🏆🏝️🏎️

alex_albon YESSSS

the miami interview

liked by landonorris, iamrebeccad, f1academy, and others

yourusername where's the trophy? he just comes running over to me 🧡

view comments:

landonorris omg my girlfriend just posted!

landonorris u cuteeeee

yourusername congratulations, baby 🫶

mclaren this is adorable

liked by author

francesca.cgomez YES BABES

pierregasly i was told to also comment so YES BABES

landonorris pierre 😭

yourusername francesca.cgomez don't worry he'll never replace you

alexandrasaintmluex WHAT ABOUT ME?

yourusername not you either bbg 😘

charles_leclerc i am still so concerned by this

pierregasly you get used to it

user this is the cutest thing i've ever seen

carlossainz55 nowins has a gf??

yourusername he's actually ONEwin now

user ynlando girlies we WON

landonorris what a pretty face

yourusername look whos joking now

landonorris your bf 😊

yourusername idiot

#formula 1 #smau #f1 #lando norris #mclaren #lizlovestofangirlformula1 #lando nowins #lando norizz #lando norris smau #f1 smau #mclaren smau #ln4 fluff #ln4 imagine #ln4 fic #ln4 #ln4 x reader #lando norris x journalist!reader #journalist

440 notes · View notes

huboi · 1 day

Text

˚⋆🐇｡⋆𖦹. THICK THIGHS SAVE LIVES

°ᡣ𐭩 . jjk men and their thick thighed partner

CONTENTS ꒱ ➜ nsfw, thick thighed! afab! reader (no pronouns used), no mention of skin colour, thigh fucking, thigh biting, face sitting, oral (reader! receiving), somnophilia, thigh worship(?). please lmk if there are any more!

CREDITS ꒱ ➜ all of the dividers are by @anitalenia !

NOTE(S) ꒱ ➜ I’m so sorry I haven’t posted in forever! I’ve just been really busy and have had a lot of volunteering work recently. I will continue the itadoris’ series, it’ll just be a slow process

°ᡣ𐭩 THIGH FUCKERS

these men LOVE to use your thighs like a fleshlight, it’s especially useful when you’re half asleep and not in the mood to actually fuck (dw they got your consent beforehand)

they especially love it when they’re back from work, all pent up and stressed, only to find you in dreamland; donning one of his t-shirts along with some panties. careful not to wake you from your slumber, they take out their cock and slip it in between your thighs, enjoying your whines and whimpers in your sleep

⋆｡˚୨୧˚｡⋆. KENTO NANAMI, TOJI FUSHIGURO, SUKUNA RYOMEN, HIROMI HIGURUMA

°ᡣ𐭩 ORAL FIXATION

these men LOVE to eat you out, your thick thighs add to the experience. they’ll be sloppily eating your pussy as if you’re their last meal they’ll have. you’re worried about crushing their skull between their thighs? don’t be! they can handle a little pain

they’re on their knees, begging for a smidge of your thighs on top of their face, you eventually comply with their needy whines. they quickly shut up; too occupied with giving you everything they’ve got, moaning up a storm whilst their strong hands grab onto your thighs for support, please tighten your thighs around their head, they want nothing more

⋆｡˚୨୧˚｡⋆. GOJO SATORU, CHOSO KAMO, AOI TODO

°ᡣ𐭩 THIGH WORSHIPERS

you think they’ve lost their mind at this point, what with the way they squeeze your thighs at any given moment. they’ll bite them, suck on them, lay on them as if they’re a pair of soft, fluffy pillows and not your thighs

whilst fucking you, they love nothing more than grabbing onto your thighs! yes, they will try their best to make sure your thighs sit atop their shoulders so they can feel the softness of them whilst they jiggle in their face at the action of being fucked dumb by their fat cock <3

⋆｡˚୨୧˚｡⋆. GETO SUGURU, INO TAKUMA, CHOSO KAMO

391 notes · View notes

kingkatsuki · 2 days

Text

— miscommunication

Based on this silly little post I made here. With inspiration from @/oooohno💕 basically Sakura can’t fathom anyone could ever like him like that.

Pairing: Sakura Haruka x f!reader.

Warnings: none, a little angsty, Sakura is bad at feelings.

Word Count: 2.9k.

You always feared getting your heart broken someday, you just hadn’t imagined it would happen like this. Sakura had always been kind to you, ever since you’d been introduced to him through Tsubakino. It was one of the many reasons why you found yourself falling for him. It had been impossible not to, and you’d spent the majority of the time working up the courage to finally ask him out. Convinced by the fact that Tsubaki had guaranteed he would say yes.

“He’d be a fool not to like you,” He said, glancing at you through his reflection in the small compact he carried with him. Giving you a reassuring wink as he applied a fresh layer of engine red lipstick, “You won’t know unless you try.”

But maybe you were the biggest fool of all because you definitely hadn’t expected Sakura Haruka to leave you standing alone in the middle of the park wearing a pretty sundress. An excruciating pain ruminated beneath your ribcage as you tried to fight back the ache of rejection.

The first step had been the most difficult— working up the courage to ask for his number. It seemed awkward to ask for it straight up, but you also didn’t want to just get it off Tsubaki in case it crossed any unspoken boundaries. So you decided it might be easier to give him yours, writing it down onto a napkin from Kotoha’s restaurant one morning while you waited for her to pour your coffee. Before slowly sliding it across the bar to Sakura, who was shovelling omelette rice into his mouth. His pink cheeks bulged with food as he skimmed the note, looking up at you with a frown.

“If you don’t want to, it’s okay.” You smiled softly as you thanked Kotoha for the coffee, walking out through the door into the warm morning sun.

If he didn’t want to what? Sakura thought to himself as he scanned your number on the white napkin. Why did you give him your cell phone number? Sakura pondered the reasons as he continued to shovel the warm egg omelette rice into his mouth. You could want to hang out as friends, but you’d never showed any indication of wanting to do so prior. Or perhaps you were looking for protection, although that didn’t make sense when you were so close to Tsubaki who was a force to be reckoned with alone.

You didn’t need protection— so what if you’d given him your number so you could fight? It made the most sense to Sakura. It had to be why you stared at him each morning when you came in for your coffee, almost as if you were sizing him up with expectation, and today was the day you’d decided to extend the invitation. He waited until he’d finished his plate before fishing his cell phone out of his pocket to send you a text message.

Even after Kiryu had added Sakura to a Furin group chat all those years ago, Sakura was never the best at texting. He tests the words against the screen as he debates how to properly respond. Backspacing until he finally settles on a simple, yet concise answer and he hits send.

Sakura[9.49AM]: I want to.

He wasn’t entirely sure what he was agreeing to, but it had to be some sort of fight. He’d never trained with you before, so it couldn’t be that. And if you were friends with Tsubaki-chan, perhaps you enjoyed fighting too.

You[9.53AM]: hi! I’m glad you texted, I wasn’t sure if you actually wanted to go or not but I’m glad you do!!! Honestly, it’s made my day :)

Sakura reread the text twice, just to make sure he understood what you meant. I wasn’t sure if you wanted to go— so you were looking for a fight.

Sakura[9.55AM]: When?

He texts back, glancing at the screen as he notices the three little dots appear at the bottom to signal you are typing back.

You[9.57AM]: Meet me in the park by the swings at 7pm :)

Sakura read the text three times with a frown— 7pm. So you really did want to fight him? That would surely be the only reason you wanted to meet so late.

It felt like a shame to fight you, especially when your face is so pretty. Sakura feels his cheeks flush at the thought as he pictures that same sweet smile you give him each day when he sees you enter the restaurant to order your usual coffee to go, while he tries to hide his face in his omelette rice.

But you’re best friends with Tsubaki-chan so you must be strong, and maybe that’s the reason why you’ve chosen to fight him. And he’s never one to back down, and you’ve set the stage now so he has no choice but to agree. Sending back a single word as his fingers glide across his phone screen.

Sakura[10.00AM]: Yes.

Sakura isn’t sure how he’s supposed to prepare for this, or if he even needs to. He’s never seen you fight before, although he’s certainly seen you mad. Your soft hands balled into tight fists as you warned off a guy for getting a little too close, so close in fact that even Sakura was decidedly about to jump in— until you managed to get him to back off and leave.

Okay, maybe you were strong—

He doesn’t know anything about your fighting technique, or the way you hold yourself. Wondering whether you have a similar style to Tsubaki, and that’s why you’re so close? But he’s friends with Suo and Nirei and they don’t fight like him, so maybe that doesn’t make sense, he frowns. He’s known you for a while, and this is the first time you’ve shown any indication you want to fight, so now he’s started to overthink everything. Contemplating how he’ll be able to get the upper hand— or what spoils will be offered to the victor?

He makes sure he’s early, arriving at the park ten minutes before your scheduled fight with his hands bundled into fists inside his jacket pockets. But he’s surprised to see you already there and waiting, his roaring heartbeat catches in his throat at the sight of you as he almost forgets to breathe—

You’re sitting there waiting wearing the prettiest dress Sakura thinks he’s ever seen. A flowy sundress that hugs your curves in all the right places, embarrassed when his eyes are instantly drawn to the cleavage that spills out of the top. Your bare skin has a dull throb pounding at the back of his head as though he’d just been sucker punched as he wonders whether he’s still standing or how you’re this strong.

The moment he first saw you, he remembers a word that Suo had taught him to describe things like this— and he reckons that’s exactly what you are. Ethereal.

His cheeks burn a fiery red as he risks a glance further down, the soft material of the dress stops just above your knee as he follows the path of your legs to see your feet encased in pretty wedge sandals that strap around your ankles. There was no way you’d come to fight like this— in fact, he couldn’t fight you like this, could he?

“Hey.” You notice him staring as you stand up to walk towards him, and Sakura is certain that he won’t be able to land a single hit when the scent of your perfume surrounds him.

“W-what are you wearing?!” He shouts, despite the fact you’ve come to stand in front of him and it takes you aback.

The same insecurities begin to shroud you as they did when you were preparing to meet him. Standing in front of your full-length mirror as you tried on various outfits until you came to settle on this one, almost deciding against it at the last minute before you checked the time and noticed if you didn’t leave you might be late.

“Oh— you don’t like it, do you?” You fiddled with the strings at the front of the dress that were tied into a pretty, thin bow. Sakura’s eyes couldn’t look away as they followed the movement, noticing your pretty painted nails before he found himself staring at the hint of skin that peeked out of the top of the dress, “I knew I should’ve worn the other dress, it’s not quite as light as this one. God, I feel stupid.”

One of the thin straps was dangerously close to falling down your shoulder, and now Sakura wasn’t even sure he’d be able to land a single punch. This had to be some kind of distraction technique.

“You can’t fight in that!” Sakura raises his arm in an accusatory point, trying to stop himself from shaking and showing any signs of fear as he tries desperately to tame the fierce blush that streaked across the apples of his cheeks.

“I can’t fight in this?” Sakura despised how adorable you looked when you cocked your head to the side with your words, his heart banging like a marching band as he thought about his initial statement— maybe he was foolish for thinking you couldn’t fight in this.

When he’d watched Tsubaki fight, he’d always notice men that would get distracted from his short skirts and heeled boots— was this what you were trying to do to him now? Was this your plan all along?

“It’s—” He tries to get the words out, but it’s difficult when you look so cute, “It’s not— it isn’t—”

“It isn’t what?” You take a small step closer and the sudden movement had his fight or flight instinct kicking in as Sakura turned to run. Escaping in a hasty sprint as he left you standing alone in the park, the sun slowly falling over the horizon.

You try to ignore the ache in your chest when Sakura turns to run, wondering why he’d even bother to show up at all when he was going to reject you anyway. But then you suppose that’s one of the reasons why you even like him in the first place— he’s way too thoughtful and considerate of others. That’s probably why he didn’t want to reject you over text, and he’d come to tell you face to face.

Trying to stop the tears from falling as pearlescent droplets collect in your thick lashes to blur your vision, blinking them back you pull out your phone to rest Tsubaki. The first text sitting at the top of your phone is still your message chain with Sakura as you reread the “Yes” he’d sent you hours earlier. You were so stupid.

It’s the first fight Sakura has ever run from in his twenty-two years, and he hates himself for it. Hates that you managed to win on pure tactics alone as he makes his way back to the restaurant to find his friends.

His chest is heaving when he finally makes it through the door, knocking the wood so hard it almost flies off its hinges as wild eyes search for his friends. Thankful they seem to be the only people inside as he makes a beeline for them, his two-toned hair now windswept and pushed back from his forehead as it sticks up in all directions.

“You’re back quick?” Kiryu notes, his thumb pauses on his screen to take note of Sakura’s dishevelled appearance.

“Did she stand you up?” Nirei asks, concerned.

“No.” Sakura deadpans, still standing by the table despite there being a free seat in front of him as he leans his weight on the balls of his feet.

“You stood her up?” Kiryu locks his phone and places it down on the table as he raises a questioning brow, “That’s really not how to treat a girl, Sakura. I thought you—”

“I went there!” Sakura shouts, louder than necessary inside the small cafe as his hands ball into fists on either side of him.

“What happened?” Suo asks calmly, trying to diffuse the situation, but there’s a curious lilt to his tone.

“S-she was there.” Sakura tries to work out how to explain what happened, as his nose scrunches pensively.

“Okay? So that’s good, right?” Nirei smiles.

“She was wearing a dress!” Sakura is loud, immediately regretting his volume as the heat rising inside his body starts to become uncomfortable. Slouching down to sit beside Suo as he mumbles, “You can’t fight in a dress—”

“Girls can fight in anything,” Kiryu smiles, as Sakura looks across the table at him. So you did want to fight? “But I don’t think that’s what she had in mind.”

Oh. So if you didn’t want to fight him, then what else did you want?

“Well, where is she now?” Suo questioned, and Sakura answered for him with a sheepish look paired with a deep pink blush all the way down to his shoulders, “You left her in the park?”

“Wait— on her own?” Nirei continued, “Why would you do that?”

And somehow it sounded worse when his best friend put it like that. Sakura hadn’t left you alone, or at least he hadn’t meant to. You were there alone before he’d even got there, almost like he’d just stopped in passing. You were fine—

“She was wearing a dress!” Sakura repeated with an angry rasp to his tone.

“Sakura, you messed up.” Kiryu starts laughing playfully, shaking his head, “You’re gonna have her and Tsubaki-chan mad at you now. I can’t believe you did that to her— the poor girl.“

“What?!” Sakura baulks, “But she’s the one that text me!”

Sakura never wanted to fight you, why would he? You were far too pretty— too delicate to be subjected to that. He didn’t want to think about you fighting anyone, the thought alone had that same strange feeling bubbling in his tummy as he pictured you coming out of the fight hurt. That same seated desire inside him burning red hot at the thought— Sakura is certain he’d fight to the death to protect every single inch of you, to stop any harm from coming to you.

“What do you think it means when a girl gives you her number?” Sakura sat back beside Suo as he pondered the question.

The only phone number he had stored in his phone outside Bofurin friends and Togame from Shishitoren was Kotoha, and that was because she’d grabbed his phone the same day he’d given it to Kiryu. But Sakura didn’t mind so much because she always brought him food. But he didn’t think that’s why you’d given your number to him, was it?

“Iunno.” He mumbled gruffly, his lips curling into a pout, “That she wants to fight.”

Tsubaki-chan had texted him to spar all the time, it wouldn’t be weird to think you’d do the same.

Kiryu shot Suo a look as he gave his friend a soft smile, before trying a different approach. It was clear after knowing him for so many years, that Sakura was inexperienced in things outside the reemits of fighting.

“Have you never found a girl pretty before, Sakura-kun?” Suo asks,

“Shaddup!” Sakura snaps swiftly, already feeling a dangerous heat rise inside him— but it’s at that same moment where he really ponders the question.

Kotoha is pretty, he supposes. Thinking back to the first time he met her when she offered him a warm plate of food with a kind smile, remembering the heat that plumed inside him that followed her kindness as Sakura found himself coming back to her.

Sakura is certain he thinks Tsubaki is pretty too, although none of them seem to compare to how he feels about you. The incessant pounding of his heart against his rib cage at the mere thought of you, your saccharine perfume makes him feel dizzy and yet he hates when you’re not around so he has to remember the way it smells. The sound of your laughter causes more than just a subtle warmth inside him like Kotoha, it's more like a blazing inferno that courses through his veins like molten lava that’s impossible to extinguish. And the way you manage to fluster him without even being there— he’s constantly thinking about your face before he falls into a dreamless sleep, and waking up to wonder what you’re doing right now.

Tsubaki would probably think he’s foolish for thinking you couldn’t fight in a pretty sundress with sandals when he fights in a skirt and heels all the time. Maybe it would give you some kind of advantage, a way to get the upper hand. The sandals wedge gave you a slight height advantage sure, but would that be enough to beat him?

“Are you listening, Sakura?”

“Yeah.” He pushes his chair out with a harsh screech against the hardwood floor as he moves to leave, frantic in his search for you as he hopes you’re still standing where he left you.

#sakura haruka x reader #haruka sakura x reader #wind breaker x reader #wind breaker x you

203 notes · View notes

eamour · 1 day

Text

about negative thoughts.

"it is so hard to remain in my desired state and feel convinced… i keep having negative thoughts that pop out of the blue and just completely throw me off. i feel irritated, confused and i wonder if i'm truly living in the end. what do i do? how do i flip every thought? am even i doing this right?"

let’s talk about it!

thoughts and states.

in my latest post "dominant thoughts and dwelling states" or my "states" post, i have already talked about what states and thoughts are, how they "function" and what the difference between the two is. here is a short summary:

thoughts come from your state.

your dominant thoughts give insight to your state.

your dominant thoughts equal your dwelling state.

intrusive thoughts, as long as not identified with, don’t manifest.

your state manifests, not your single thoughts.

you are not your state, you are your "i am".

there is an infinite number of states.

you enter and exit states all day long.

now, you know that thoughts can only manifest if you assume them to be true, making them your dwelling state. but even if you know all of this, it still may not stop you from having undesirable thoughts here and there. so, how do we deal with them?

about all thoughts.

now, let's take a look at the characteristics of thoughts.

all thoughts are neutral. negative thoughts, just like positive ones, don’t have any meaning pre-assigned to them. they are all neutral until you categorise them to positive or negative. meaning, they are the exact same.

… therefore, thoughts don’t hold any power. thoughts don’t have any truth attached to them. no state has. because you are not your state. you are your i am. you decide what’s truthful to you or not, which state you want to occupy and which thoughts you want to have. your thoughts look at YOU for validation.

all thoughts are equal. because of that, negative thoughts aren’t easier to manifest than positive ones. all thoughts hold the same "value" or no value at all. they are all equally easy to manifest.

all thoughts are temporary. and thus, all states are as well. especially intrusive thought’s come from a place of fear, uncertainty and insecurity. who is feeling all those? who is controlling all those? YOU. you are not as out of control as you may think. just like you can alter a thought, you can alter the very origin of it — your state. you dictate your state and your thoughts.

all thoughts are yours. imagination creates reality, meaning creation comes from you. all thoughts and furthermore all states stem from your own awareness. there is no need to feel intimidated by them!

step by step resolution.

1 · emotion · this is the first thing we will do whenever we have a very mean thought — so mean, it makes it hard for you to change it on the spot or ignore it: we let ourselves feel the way that thought makes us feel. some thoughts, you can choose not to absorb but rather observe. however, if you do absorb them (which can definitely happen), make sure to embrace them. let out all the emotions they make you feel. express them. talk to a friend, scream into the void, bawl out your eyes… whatever helps your nervous system to relieve and regulate. you are not meant to internalise all that negativity.

2 · reflection · reflect on your unfavourable thoughts. ask yourself "is this thought helping me? do i want to continue thinking this? does this do me any good?". if yes, keep thinking it. if not, stop thinking it, forget it and correct it.

⋮ 2 · attention · some thoughts don’t need to be corrected for them to not affect you negatively. some of them can be entirely ignored and disregarded. not every little thought needs to be investigated. you don’t need to monitor every thought of yours. let them pass you by. don’t assign any meaning to them. renounce them. learn to be indifferent to certain thoughts. take your attention away from them. sometimes, that's enough. because some thoughts need to be dealt with a certain level of neglect. otherwise you will only drive yourself insane. ⋮

3 · identification · realise where the thought is coming from. most likely, it’s coming from your limited human self. but you are your unbounded god self. return to it! you have what you want and you are who you want to be. stop contemplating on your unwanted circumstances and focus on your end. continue to live from there. don’t just think of it, embody it. fully claim it. it’s your end. your reality. change the direction of your thoughts and remind yourself of your actual identity — GOD.

in short, feel your emotions, reflect on your thoughts, abandon negative thoughts, declare them as wrong and replace them with positive ones, remember your desired version of self, embody it and persist.

important.

before you go, there is one last thing i want to touch on. changing your thoughts, distancing yourself from unfavourable situations and trying to persist while feeling triggered by something external… can be very challenging. what i mean is, it takes determination, dedication and discipline. you need to be courageous and eager enough to make tough decisions, to choose your ending of the story and to side with YOURself, even when you actually want to. but it’s possible. it’s attainable. it’s doable. you know what you want and you are going to continue to live your truth, with conviction and commitment!

you will do it. and you will succeed.

with love, ella.

343 notes · View notes

brainrot-of-a-thot · 2 days

Text

just like putty [ii]

or, how to reduce them to a cataclysmic state of horny, featuring: jo togame, ren kaji, choji tomiyama

a/n: throwback time babes! ‘just like putty’ was my first ever official headcanon post, so it’s incredibly special to me. I know it technically wasn’t that long ago that I posted it, but still; I feel like it’s a throwback. featuring some new boys this time (psst: next up will be hiragi, sugishita, and kiryuu >:3)

c/w: explicit sexual content, nsfw headcanons, subtle allusions to fem!dom (kaji + choji), dumbification (togame), cock worship, praise/degradation, face riding, coming untouched, afab!reader, it’s really fucking filthy guys ye have been warned.

jo togame absolutely has a cock that is worth worshipping. it’s long and thick, nicely shaped and hangs heavy against his large sack, and it smells absolutely delicious — clean like soap with the faintest trace of masculine musk to it.

and togame knows this; in fact, he’s well aware of it. and he knows the effect it has on you. and, oh, isn’t it a beautiful effect?

with just one look you’re losing it — you’re swallowing it down before he can even blink, paying no heed to your innate need for oxygen, thrusting it down your throat as far as you can as fast as you can. and, god, it’s such a treat to watch your eyes fog over, for your skin to turn that pretty shade of pink, to watch you shove your hand between your legs and hump it desperately as you suck his cock to no tomorrow.

your cunt is no doubt crying for him, fat tears sliding down your thighs in the same way the tears are sliding down your cheeks, looking up at him with those eyes while you melt into his personal cocksleeve.

your throat and mouth vibrate brokenly with moans, with mewls and whimpers, because you just love it that much; and when you stop to catch your breath but still nuzzle into his sloppy cock, spreading spit and pre all over your pretty face, whimpering about how big it is, how much you love it and want it, togame absolutely loses it — and he fucks you straight into oblivion.

after all, you love his cock so much; why wouldn’t he give it to you?

ren kaji, unsurprisingly, has a major oral fixation. he’s not entirely sure if it’s an after effect of constantly having a sucker in his mouth or not; all he truly knows is that when you exploit it, he’s spraying like a fountain in less than a minute.

what really gets kaji going is when your fuck his mouth with a sucker — he loves it when you slide it across the insides of cheeks and caress the roof of his mouth with it, loves to feel it slide over his tongue again and again as you just so subtly push it past his tonsils; and if you add your fingers into the mix, he’s completely melting in your hands. he gets harder than a rock when you press down on his tongue with two fingers, and especially so when you shove them to the back of his throat in attempt to muffle the lewd sounds dropping from his lips.

kaji is irresistible when he’s in that state — his face is red and clammy, pupils blown wide and he’s unable to keep his eyes from slipping closed or rolling back every now and then, lips swollen and sticky and slick and slobber slides down his chin. he becomes an absolute mess, moaning and begging and humping against you while you molest his mouth. he could cum just like that, with your fingers in his mouth and his hard cock rubbing against any part of you.

also really gets off on degradation; he loves when you remind him how much of a mess he’s making, how hard his cock is, and, if you’re very careful with your wording, even when you liken him to the male equivalent of a slut and spit about just how dirty he is.

choji tomiyama loves to be used; or, more particularly, for his face to be used.

and even more particularly, for his face to be used by your cunt.

nothing turns him on quite like when you cage his face with your thighs and hold it still. choji doesn’t want you to start slow, he wants you to buck wildly on his face from the get go — he wants to feel your sloppy cunt slide all over his face, not just his mouth. he wants to taste that sweet nectar directly from the source, wants to feel it dry to his skin.

the cherry on top is when you slide your fingers into his hair and pull — and he wants you to do it hard. he wants you to use the leverage to shove his head up into your cunt for firmer friction. he wants you to completely smother him and show no mercy; there’s nothing quite as arousing as the rush he feels when his lung prick from the lack of oxygen, when his vision starts to go black because he’s been buried between your thighs for so long. the lightheadedness is addictive; almost as much as your taste is.

don’t forget to praise him while you’re using his face — he’s being such a good boy, isn’t he? flicking his tongue out to give you extra stimulation, sitting completely still to avoid knocking off your rhythm, moaning into the sloppy heat of your cunt because he loves it so much — that’s good, isn’t it?

and, oh, it’s such a treat to hear you say it. to hear you tell him how good he’s being, how good it feels, that you’re going to use him forever, that you’re about to cum — and he’ll whimper and beg for it, buck his hips up to chase friction against the front of his jeans — and when your cunt explodes on his face, he’s painting the inside of his boxers with his own thick cum in time with your jerking hips.

it’s just way too good when you use him, he can’t help it.

#wind breaker #wind breaker x reader #jo togame x reader #choji tomiyama x reader #ren kaji x reader

186 notes · View notes

frostyhelltime · 1 day

Text

Alastor Realizes He Has Feelings For You

Alastor x GN!Reader

AN: A lovely anon sent in a request for a few of the guys realizing they have feelings for the reader, and Alastor's got...so far away from me that I decided to give him his own post, and I'll link this in the ask I actually answer. I just had so much fun writing Alastor freaking the hell out once he realizes.

HERE is the link for the ask if anyone is curious to see this prompt with Lucifer or Vox.

Alastor

In order of which of the guys notices first, Alastor realizes it dead last.

Which makes sense. He had long thought himself incapable of such feelings toward someone. There had never been anyone he had felt that particular inclination towards before, so he assumes at first that what he has with you is just…a very intense friendship, almost like him and Rosie, just with some odd caveats.

Once he does realize he'll immediately go to Rosie for some advice since it's…clearly not his area of expertise.

He doesn't even notice it, someone else points it out to him.

He's in a piss poor mood as he goes about the hotel. He hasn't yet figured out it's because you've been too busy to see him for the past four days.

Until someone gets mad enough at him to talk back.

Alastor is sitting in the lobby, impatiently tapping his foot as he wallows and waits, sipping a glass of rye as Husk made a point to only come over to his side of the bar when it looked like he needed something.

Alastor was struggling, trying to figure out why his mood has been so sour these past few days. Things had been fine, delightful even! The hotel was taken care of, his broadcasts went well, why he even went for a nice stroll in Cannibal Town to visit Rosie. By all means a perfect few days.

So why was his patience for everything wearing oh so thin? He sighs a moment and makes a sound almost like a growl to himself as he tries to puzzle this out. This was so infuriatingly perplexing!

It isn't much longer until Angel Dust is so fed up with Alastor ruining the good mood of the bar as he tries to flirt with Husk that he actually addresses the Overlord.

“Look Smiles. Just because you're all sad ya lovely little lover has been too busy to even say hi the past few days, doesn't mean you've gotta take it out on us. I'm trying to hit on the barman but your pissy mood is killing it.” Angel says, throwing a hand up from the other side of the bar.

“Operative word here being try, not succeeding at.” Husk says dryly, closer to Angel’s side.

“Yeah yeah. You secretly adore me. Don't worry. I'll keep your secret.” Angel winks at him as Alastor tries to decipher what it is Angel just said.

“...Lover?” He asks, trying to clarify, tilting his head to the side. He's so flummoxed he even stops tapping his foot. He says it like someone sounding out a foreign word for the first time.

“...Are they not your lover?” Angel raises an eyebrow, putting his drink down a moment. “I mean the way you two act…I thought you were dating and just keeping it a secret.” Angel shrugs, and only then does it click Angel is talking about you. There's no one else in the hotel that he's consistently friendly enough with that that mistake could happen.

Once he figures it out he just cackles a moment, deep and loud, with his free hand over his stomach as he fails to contain his amusement.

“Oh my dear Angel, no!” He says, chuckling a little more before continuing, shaking his head. “They're just a very dear friend.” Alastor explains, waving off the idea. “Besides why would I be upset they haven't been around? I don't see Rosie every day and I'm perfectly fine.” He says, although he doesn't really need to explain himself to them anyway.

But it doesn't seem to convince Angel who just looks at him with skepticism.

“Surely you jest! What evidence have I possibly given to suggest they are more than a dear friend?” Alastor asks, sure Angel has nothing concrete.

“Well, for starters, they can touch you whenever and however they want. You let them in your personal bubble and you fucking hate people being in your personal bubble.” Angel begins to explain, holding a finger up.

“I'm the same way with Rosie, and Mimzy, to a degree.” Alastor shoots down that theory easily.

“You've been in an increasingly shit mood with a short fuse since they've been too busy to see you.” Angel tries again, holding up a second finger.

“Preposterous. I don't know why I'm in such a frustrated mood, but I assure you it isn't them. Perhaps I'm feeling a bit of cabin fever and need to spend more time out and about in the city…?” The last bit is mostly Alastor's own suggestion to himself. "Perhaps too much time in the hotel..?" He continues wondering aloud.

Angel just rolls his eyes and sighs, rubbing his forehead with a free hand a moment.

“You get them presents! And do things for them without ever asking for a deal!” Angel tries again, holding up a third finger, but Alastor just shakes his head.

“I won't deny I do that, but I fail to see the connection between that behavior and them supposedly being my lover.” Alastor shakes his head, finding Angel's arguments far too easy to poke holes into.

Angel thinks he's about to scream with how absolutely daft this guy was in regards to his emotions apparently.

“You let them in your radio station, even when you're broadcasting, have picnics in your freaky weird swamp thing in your room, smile so much brighter as soon as you catch sight of them! You obviously have a big fat crush on them!” Angel almost shouts, standing and throwing all four arms up in absolute and utter exasperation.

"Am I fucking crazy or what? I can't be the only one who sees this?!" Angel sighs heavily as he turns to Husk who shakes his head.

"I'm not getting involved in this." Is all Husk says, although he stays close to Angel, as if to protect him should something go wrong.

“...None of that is something you would only do with a lover and not a friend.” Is all Alastor says through his smile. Not a denial of any of those actions, he has done all of those things. But he still thinks Angel is jumping to some rather far fetched conclusions.

Husk just knows Angel is right, but knows there's no way of convincing the guy unless it hits him right in the face, and Husk knows something you feel over a crush that you don't with a friend.

Jealousy.

“I don't even know why you're bothering trying to set them up Angel. They already have a hot date this weekend anyway so what does it matter if he has a crush on them or not?” Husk says so casually, it comes across like it could only be true. He curses at himself in his head for saying he wouldn't get involved and then immediately doing so before Angel Dust could upset Alastor.

There's a loud pop of static that sounds off from Alastor's direction, and Husk thinks he's right on the edge of making him realize.

“No kiddin’? Man. That blows Smiles. Sorry.” Angel blinks, slumping a bit before sitting back down and drinking. “Huh. I wonder if that's why they asked me for outfit advice the other day? Said they really wanted to wow someone.” Angel taps his glass as he thinks, having absolutely no idea if Husk is lying, but playing along anyway.

“How’d they ask them out anyway?” Angel asks curiously, because if it's true he does want to know, and if it isn't he's sure the answer will rile Alastor up anyway.

“Some newbie sinner approached them while they were grabbing a snack from that bakery they like, and said something about having a crush on them and asked them out to some jazz show or something, I don't remember. They seemed pretty excited.” Husk says as he refills Angel's drink now. However Alastor's drink just shatters in his hand at this information and he just looks down in surprise.

He hadn't been holding it that tight, had he? He looks equally confused and irritated at the mess of glass and rye on the bar top and in his hands. But why was he upset? He was never upset whenever Rosie got a new husband. He couldn't actually be jealous could he? Just the very idea makes him want to scoff. He doesn't get jelaous. But the image of you on some date with some pathetic unworthy creature as you laughed at their jokes and leaned in closer, hand gently on their arm as you pressed your lips against thei-

He's standing up, letting out a deep breath to calm himself, clearly upset as he let his thoughts run away from him. He turns to look at the two there and sees them looking quite scared, and covering their ears. Oh. His static was exceptionally loud right now, wasn't it? He quickly fixes that and adjusts his jacket with tight hands. He doesn't even bother to think of an excuse as he melts into the shadows, appearing in the bog in his room, pacing rapidly.

“Surely…not?” He asks himself aloud as he paces amongst the trees, allowing himself to feel the full panic and upset now that he was behind closed doors. He's rubbing his chin as he thinks, trying to logically figure this out.

“Why do I care if they date someone?” He asks himself, gripping his head as if it hurts from trying to figure out this riddle. He thinks his head actually is starting to hurt, since the answer was beginning to dawn on him, and it was terrifyingly uncharted territory. “No, no. Impossible. I'm confused. Perhaps I'm ill?” He suggests, taking his hands down, bringing one hand up to feel his forehead.

“....That excuse sounds absolutely pathetic.” He grits out, fist swinging and demolishing a tree in his way. But it doesn't make him feel any better. Doesn't make him feel any more in control. The more he thinks about it the more he realizes that on the surface, his interactions with you and Rosie are a little different.

When he gets Rosie presents it's just a simple “Here you are dear! I thought of you!” And then they share a laugh as she thanks him. But when he gives you a present, he waits eagerly, eyes scrutinizing every aspect of your being as you open it. His posture is stiff but practiced as he awaits your reaction, only relaxing when he sees the ecstatic smile on your face as you begin to thank him.

He doesn't mind Rosie touching him, and in fact on some days actually quite enjoys it. But with you he wants it, moves instinctively towards your touch instead of away.

Fuck. That stupid spider was right, he realized with a swell of panic and fear at this new unknown variable.

He…loves you? It still didn't sound right, but the more he thought about it the more he realizes it could only unfortunately be true. When had you wrapped him around your little finger so tightly? And how hadn't he realized?!

He's even more upset now at how far gone he was on you without realizing. The radio demon has a weakness. Even just thinking the phrase makes the sensation of bile rise in his throat and he has to sit down a moment to collect himself again.

His entire body is stiff and agitated as he tries to come to terms with this. Until he hears a knock on his door.

“Alastor? Are you in there? It's me. Husk said you seemed like you were in a sour mood. So I thought I would come check on you. Can I come in?” Your voice rings through the door crystal clear and he sucks in a breath and pays attention to his reactions now.

His stiff muscles began to relax and soften, the frustration that was so unbearable he had begun tearing apart trees seemed so…distant now. Surely an over exaggeration to lose his cool like that. He sighs and looks down.

Angel had been right.

But…now that he knows…all he needs to do now is get you wrapped just as tightly around his finger as he was around yours. There is no danger of feeling jealousy or rejection or heartbreak or of him possibly being controlled by you or anything of the sort if he ensures you fall for him as splendidly as he has apparently fallen for you.

With that in mind he stands now, ready to face you with this new knowledge. He's dusting himself off and then opening his door, smiling at you in the typically charming way he knows had a tendency to make people swoon when he was alive, and even now in death. Just because he hadn't had an interest in dating didn't mean he didn't know how to charm someone.

“How kind to come check on me.” He drawls almost sweetly as he snatches your hand as gently as possible before bringing it to his lips, eyes half-lidded as he peers at you, studying your expression. He feels confident from the sound of the slight intake of your breath and the small flush of red dusting your cheeks that he very well still has a chance to edge out any competition for your affections.

“Well now my dear I'm in a much less sour mood now that I have such exquisite company. If you're not too tired I would love to know what's captured your time so much these past few days. Come on in.” His smile is charming, a predator seeming to eye his unaware prey as he opens the door further to let you in, your eager smile mollifying him for the moment.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x reader #alastor

245 notes · View notes

iholdwhatican · 8 hours

Text

tension

part two to reunions - must read part 1 first!

pairing: art donaldson x reader x patrick zweig

length: 3.2k

author's note: this took wayyyy too long for me to do yall, i'm so sorry. these two have a tight hold on me and i'm in the trenches. i've got some good stuff lined up tho, and i'm super excited to write it heeheehee :) also smut in the future will be much longer and much more detailed, just fyi

tags: y/n is art donaldson's wife ; birthday party ; art is down bad ; patrick wants y/n ; possessive!art ; the boys are fighting ; no use of y/n ; pining ; sexual tension ; sugar mommy y/n? ; unapologetic flirting with your bff's wife at his birthday party

warnings: sexual content, p in v, not super detailed but still there!

summary: the stressful night of the birthday party continues, and you find yourself pinging between art and patrick like a tennis ball. how the hell did you get yourself into this?

originally posted by iholdwhatican

It took four minutes and 36 seconds of Art and Patrick being alone outside before the anxiety became too much. Your dress was too tight against your skin and the chatter of the guests rattled in your skull. Your mind replayed the anger on Art’s face over and over, convinced that he’d direct it at you the moment he came back in. And if you were being honest, you couldn’t stop thinking about that kiss.

Your blood boiled with the ferocity of it, and an ache in your core begged for another taste.

Another three minutes and 18 seconds passed while you downed half of your second glass of wine. You made conversation with a few people who caught your eye, making sure all the food and drink were up to par. Not that you really could care about that right now. Your mind was a jumble of thoughts about the two men on the balcony.

Art, Patrick, Art, Patrick, Art, Patrick, Art, Patrick

“You look like you’re gonna puke.”

For the second time that night, Patrick Zweig’s voice made you jump.

You looked at him, catching sight of that damned smirk that made your stomach flip, and furrowed your brows. One quick scan of the room came up empty for your husband, forcing the anxiety in your chest to worsen.

“Where’s Art?” You asked, not missing the way your voice wobbled slightly.

“Relax.” Patrick responded, resting a hand on your shoulder, “He went to the kitchen, I think. I didn’t kill him. And he didn’t run for the hills either.”

You decided not to comment on how easily he’d read your worries without you saying anything. For some reason, you were an open book to him.

A deep sigh left you. You licked your lips anxiously- which immediately caused Patrick’s eyes to fall on your mouth.

“What happened out there?”

The man gave you a shrug, letting his hand fall back to his side, “Nothing, really. We just talked for a bit. He told me I could stay, as long as I stopped flirting with you.”

“So does that mean you’re going to stop?” The idea made you slightly unhappy, which in turn filled you with guilt. Why were you so excited by his flirtations when you had a wonderful, loving husband who treated you like a queen?

But then Patrick grinned, and you knew the answer before he said it, “Well, I’ve never been one to do what I’m told.”

A smile grew over your lips, and you tried to hide it with an eye roll, “Why don’t you mingle? Try some food. I’m going to find my husband.”

He didn’t miss the enunciation you put on ‘my husband’, and you didn’t miss the way his eyes darkened as you said it. You didn’t give it time to linger, instead turning away and moving towards the kitchen.

You knew the look Patrick had in his eyes. You’d seen it a dozen times in Art’s. On the court, over a board game, in all sorts of scenarios. And every time, even now, the look sent a chill down your spine.

That expression was clear, resolute competition.

Just as Patrick had said, you found Art in the kitchen. With his back to you, you had a perfect view of his tense shoulders and hanging head as he poured himself a glass of water. He was all wound up, and you knew it was your fault. Now it was your responsibility to fix it.

You stepped up behind him, sliding a hand between his shoulder blades. He didn’t hesitate to lean into the touch, a subconscious reaction. He knew it was you just by the feel of your hand on him. And, even if he might be furious, he still found comfort in it.

“Hey…” You breathed, leaning to the side to meet his gaze. Art looked at you over his shoulder, a half-smile quirking his lips up, “How are you doing?”

“Hey.” He responded, turning and sliding his hands over your hips. Your chest pressed against his as he leaned down and placed a kiss on your hairline. Then he just lingered there, breathing in your smell, “I honestly don’t know. I just- it was so weird to see him.”

“Yeah, of course it was.” Your words reached him in a soft, comforting tone. The guilt of putting your perfect, doting husband in this situation was enough to make you feel like you had barbed wire around your neck. You had to pay penance- somehow. You rubbed your hand in circles over his back, “I’m sorry, sundrop. I don’t know what I was thinking when I invited him.”

Sundrop. A nickname that went way back to the early days of your relationship. Art was an energetic puppy dog with a halo of golden curls and a smile that made your insides feel hot. He was what you pictured a personification of the sun to be, hence the pet name. He pretended not to like it, but his eyes always sparkled a certain way when you said it.

Art pulled his head away to peer down into your eyes, his own pensive and confused, “No, baby, don’t be sorry. It was a great fucking surprise. Just… a surprise.”

You shook your head. He was so fucking good to you, “You’re allowed to be mad at me.”

“Mad? At you?” In one quick motion, he picked you up and set you on the counter. Your legs opened for him without hesitation, allowing him to slot right in between them, “I don’t think that’s possible.”

You fought the blush rising in your cheeks and rolled your eyes, “You think too highly of me.”

“No. Never.” He replied instantly. He kissed your chin. Then your jaw. Then your neck. Then down your throat, “As far as I’m concerned, you’re God.”

“Art-” You argued, though you weren’t sure what for. You tilted your neck back and offered yourself up to him.

“I could spend my life on my knees for you and be happy.” His words were muffled as he mouthed at your neck, sending shivers down your spine. This, combined with the kiss from earlier, was making you ache with need. You were half-tempted to end the party early and take your pretty husband to bed.

You bit your lip when he ran his tongue over a sensitive spot above your collarbone. If he wasn’t in between them, you’d be squeezing your thighs together.

When Art pulled away, his eyes had darkened. Dilated pupils and heavy breaths told you all you needed to know. He was just as fucking horny as you were right now. His hands held your hips tighter.

“Do you think we’d be left alone long enough for me to show you how much I mean it?” He asked. It was almost as if he were begging. As if he couldn’t bear the idea of doing anything other than dropping to his knees and devouring you.

And God, when he looked at you like that, you had no choice but to say yes.

Unfortunately, fate intervened, and you were kept from making a scene at your husband’s birthday party.

“Hey, you two, quit snogging and come entertain us!” One of Art’s tennis friends called, sticking their head into the kitchen. The big grin on their face told you it was just teasing, but you still felt your face burning with embarrassment.

“It’s my birthday, let me do what I want.” Art jeered right back, lifting you off the counter and back onto your own two feet. You laughed airily at the comment, feeling more light-headed than anything.

Before following his friend back into the action, he whispered a quick, “Later, okay?” to you. And then he left you standing in the kitchen- touch-starved, foggy-headed, and excruciatingly aroused.

It was then that you realized you didn’t even get to ask him what happened with Patrick.

Upon re-entering the party, you found yourself taking note of two things- or rather, two people. One, Art- conversing with some friends from the foundation with a big grin on his face. Two, Patrick- having his fill of finger foods from the refreshment table. He was alone. And though you tried to fight it, you found yourself gravitating towards him.

“Do they not have food where you’re from?” You teased, falling into place at his side. Your gaze slid over the spread before flicking up to his face.

You’d caught him mid-bite, and he attempted to swallow quickly and regain his composure. Something warmed slightly in your chest. Endearing.

“Well, I’m kinda… in between places right now.” He explained, tongue stuck in his cheek to clear out residual bits of food, “And there’s never stuff as good as this.”

You let the compliment slide away, instead focusing on his more troubling response, “Are you homeless?”

“What? No.” He chuckled, as if the question were preposterous, “I go all over for tennis. It’s just easier to stay on the move.”

You raised an eyebrow, “And on off-season?”

Something in his expression darkened, only for a moment, and then he was back to cocky smiles and overwhelming confidence, “I’m too busy to care about that. And what’s it matter to you, anyway?”

“I’d like to think I’m a good person.” You said, plucking a snack off the table and popping it into your mouth. You chewed it halfway before continuing, “And a good person worries if they think someone they care about isn’t doing well.”

Patrick grinned at you for five long seconds. And it took him actually saying the words to realize where you’d slipped up.

“You care about me?”

Shit. You had not meant to say that. Why was this man so damn good at getting every little thought in your head to spill out of your mouth?

“If caring about you means I don’t want you sleeping under a bridge somewhere, then sure.”

“Okay, I would never let it get that far-”

“I wanna help.”

He blinked, “Help how?” Briefly, very briefly, you thought of your bed. Your comfortable, spacious bed, perfect for three individuals. You could picture it- you, safe and sound and nestled between the two men. Art, your lovely, obedient husband on one side, letting himself love and be loved. And Patrick on the other side, nice and cozy with a roof over his head and a full belly.

The image flashed in an instant, and you were left with hollow, heavy guilt. You swallowed.

“How much do you need?”

“Huh?” You rolled your eyes at him, “How much money do you need? To keep you afloat for the next little while. And I’ll send you home tonight with leftovers.”

Patrick let the words wash over him, slowly smiling as they did. He took a step towards you, close enough that one tiny shove would have your bodies pressed together. You could smell him, all sweat and cigarettes and woodsy cologne that made your head spin. You’d been wound up all night, and this was absolutely not helping.

“You gonna write me a check? Use your hard-earned money to get a practical stranger a hotel for a couple nights?” He murmured, heavy on the charm, “What would your husband think?”

He knew he’d gotten under your skin. He knew what he was doing. He was fucking enjoying this.

You tried to hold your ground, looking up at him through your lashes, “It’s his money, actually. He makes sure I never have to work unless I want to.”

“Guess he treats you pretty well. And look how you’re taking advantage of it.” His hand lay on the table next to yours, his fingertips nearly brushing the skin of your wrist. How bad would it be if you closed the gap?

You bit your lip, “You’re allowed to turn me down.”

“I don’t think I’d ever turn you down, Mrs. Donaldson.”

Something about that title, something about the way he said it, made your blood run hot and cold at the same time. It reminded you of the myths of sirens. Beautiful monsters of the sea that used their voices to bring others to their demise. Talking to Patrick had that same type of allure, and the sense of danger.

“Then tell me what you need.”

“What do you think I need?”

Oh, you could think of a few things. But you could also feel a pair of eyes on you, and you knew exactly who they belonged to. Part of you wanted to tempt him, see if you could get another reaction like out on the balcony. However, you quickly shot the idea down. Not right now, not in the middle of a crowded party.

Lips curving into an innocent smile, you pushed yourself a step back from him, “I think you need a nice place to sleep. And a few good meals. And maybe a hug.”

The sudden switch-up took Patrick by surprise, but he handled it smoothly and responded only a beat later, “You’re offering?”

“At least for the first two.” You didn’t know what you’d do if you were in his arms. With the way you were feeling now, with two glasses of wine in your system, your boundaries were getting blurrier and blurrier. How humiliating.

His bottom lip jutted out into a pout. Which unfortunately dragged your gaze right down to his mouth. It took you a moment too long to meet his eyes again.

“What, we can’t hug? Don’t you consider me a friend?”

“I do.” You shrugged, tucking loose hair behind your ear, “Maybe I’m just not a touchy person.”

A lie. You knew it, and you could tell by the look on his face that he knew it too.

“Yeah.” He smirked, sounding the opposite of sincere, “Art’s wife isn’t a touchy person. Sure.”

You needed a cold shower. Or to go have some one-on-one time with your vibrator. Or maybe move to the seaside and spend your days going mad in a lighthouse. You weren’t sure. All you knew was how increasingly hot you were feeling.

“Speaking of Art, go talk to him. Try to make amends. Meet some of his friends.” You suggested, glancing over at your husband. He wasn’t watching you anymore, at least not straight on. But he had a radar when it came to you, and he was very diligent in keeping tabs. No matter what.

“You trying to get rid of me?” Patrick asked lightly. No heat behind the words.

“Oh, yes.” You admitted, placing your hands on his shoulders and pointing him towards Art, “Find me again before you leave and I’ll have your check.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He grinned at you over his shoulder, sending a wink before sauntering off.

Finally, you felt like you could actually get a breath in your lungs.

The party had ended. Guests went home, Patrick got his check and headed to a hotel you recommended, and you and your partner left all the cleanup for the morning. You barely gave it a second glance as you went up to bed with him, your hand held tightly in his.

Art fucked you like a starving man that night. You barely got into the room before his lips were plastered on your skin, his hands unzipping your dress with quick precision. He was usually much more reserved, but something about tonight had made him ravenous. And he wasn’t the only one.

You ended up on his lap; bare chests pressed together, skin sweaty and breaths heavy as you rolled your hips into him. His hands clutched your thighs, keeping you close, fingers pressing into the flesh. You pulled on his hair and his head immediately fell back. As if he were a puppet for you to position and use however you wanted. His eyes looked up at you with a fire in them you’d never seen before, but the adoration, the reverence, was all too familiar.

Your name fell from his lips over and over again like a prayer. The single word weaved with threads of devotion, possessiveness, desire. A song joined in chorus by whatever nonsensical phrase entered his head. I love you, so perfect, all mine, please, please, please.

He was claiming you. Marking his territory in his own special way. It didn’t matter that Patrick wasn’t here to see it, or that he probably would never even know. As long as Art could tell himself that you were his, he’d be okay. Jealousy was a good look on him.

You could feel your core tighten with each and every movement of his hips against you. You weren’t going to last much longer. But by the look in your husband’s eyes, neither was he.

Parted lips claimed yours in a messy kiss, tongue sliding into your mouth and exploring every open space. Then you were being flipped over; back pressed into the mattress as Art rocked into you with reckless abandon. He intertwined his fingers with yours and pinned your hands above your head without ever breaking the kiss.

You lasted about thirty seconds. Finally, the tension in you snapped and your orgasm washed over you in waves, leaving you limp and trembling. Art finished only a moment later. You could feel him pulsing inside of you as the aftershocks slowly faded away. The room reeked of sweat and sex and your head was spinning.

Art, your precious, dutiful man, rested his head on your chest as he attempted to catch his breath. You could feel the tickle of his lips kissing your skin, the soft squeeze of his hands on your hips. You ran a hand through his damp hair, fingers massaging his scalp.

“I love you.” He murmured against your ribs, right over your thundering heart. He said it like he couldn’t quite believe he was allowed, like he didn’t believe you were here, that you were his.

Dark hair and cigarette smoke flashed through your mind. Almost-touching hands and paper checks.

“I love you.” You responded, kissing his hairline, “Happy Birthday, baby.”

The only response you got was a tired, happy sound and another kiss to your collarbone. A quick adjustment later and the two of you were tucked under the blankets, your head on Art’s chest and his arm around you. Neither of you cared enough to clean yourselves up or to put pajamas on. Art was already softly snoring next to you, and you could feel your eyelids getting heavy.

As you listened to the baddump of his heart, a strange thought flitted through your mind. You’d just had the best sex of your life, and it was because of Patrick. You weren’t the only one who’d been thinking of him while in the throes of passion. The notion made something strange twinge in your gut.

And then, like he’d somehow read your mind, your phone lit up with a text.

Patrick Zweig: You free for lunch tomorrow?

***

Taglist:

@jxssimae

@jackierose902109

@dvrkstxrlightt

@yesimwriting

@1989tvcore

@kookie29

@dopeoafslimebanana

@vadergf

@nsyncvinyl

@ireallydontcareanymorebrooo

@brunettegirl

#challengers #challengers movie #challengers 2024 #art donaldson #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x you #patrick zweig #patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig x you #challengers fic #challengers fanfic #art donaldson x patrick zweig #challengers x reader #challengers x you #art donaldson x reader x patrick zweig #tashi duncan #charly writes!!

191 notes · View notes

solemnarration · 21 hours

Text

𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐋𝐓𝐘 𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐈𝐍? | chapter three

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: art donaldson x female!reader x patrick zweig 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you’ve always been content being second place to your best friend tashi duncan, waiting for the day you can quit tennis. your world is upended when you meet art and patrick, and you’re forced to embrace a life in the sport you’ve been too afraid to claim for yourself. 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.5k 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): challengers content warnings, reader wears shorts and a t-shirt, swearing, underage drinking, kissing, mentions of controlling mother, mentions of mutual masturbation (minors DNI), use of y/n 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: kind of nervous to post my version of the iconic hotel scene but i hope you all like it!! 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭

𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐋 𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌 𝟐𝟎𝟔. 𝐅𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐒, 𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐘𝐎𝐑𝐊 – 𝐒𝐄𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟏𝟎, 𝟐𝟎𝟎𝟔. 𝟏𝟐:𝟏𝟓𝐀𝐌.

“I can’t believe you talked me into this,” you hissed as you followed Tashi down the corridor of the dingy hotel you were staying at. You marched behind your best friend in light blue and white striped pyjama shorts, a white fitted t-shirt, fuzzy socks, and your favourite slippers.

“What can I say? My persuasive abilities started getting better since we became friends,” she retorted, rolling her eyes and smirking. “I guess you’re a good influence on me!”

You sighed, crossing your arms defensively and staring at the door of Room 206 once you arrived. “Tashi, this is insane,” you insisted, keeping your voice down in case Art and Patrick overheard. “They’re just going to be annoyed that I’m here. Plus, I’m going to have to entertain the leftover guy when you eventually pick one to make out with! You know how I feel about small talk with strangers.”

“You weren’t complaining at the beach,” Tashi pointed out. “Or when I was taking pictures with the trophy. And shut up, they’re not going to be annoyed you’re there, they want you to come!” She paused, trying not to laugh. “Literally and euphemistically.”

You groaned at her joke. “I’m getting a strong vibe that we’re about to star in our own horror movie. Exit, stage left!”

Your best friend crossed her arms. “Why did you come with me if you don’t want to see them?”

“Because I’d be a really shitty friend if I let you get murdered by yourself,” you argued, naively hoping Tashi wouldn’t recognise your go-to tactic of using humour to avoid confronting your emotions. “For the rest of my life, people are going to see me on the street and say, ‘That’s Y/N Y/L/N, the girl who let beloved tennis star Tashi Duncan become a cautionary tale instead of going to those guys’ room with her. What a bitch.’”

Tashi grinned. “You like them, don’t you? You really like them.” Before you could argue, she knocked on the door four times.

You grabbed Tashi’s arm and asked her, “Are you sure about this?”

“What’s the worst that could happen?” she challenged you, raising an eyebrow. “Think about it. Really give it a second. If they’re boring, we’ll leave. If they’re annoying, we’ll leave. If they’re being gross, we’ll leave. We have all the power here, Y/I.”

You frowned. “We do?”

As if proving her point, Tashi knocked on the door again before motioning for you to press your ear against it. You listened as Art and Patrick scrambled to tidy their room. Tashi covered her mouth so she wouldn’t laugh too loudly.

“Y/I, they’re literally obsessed with you. Everything’s going to be fine!”

“Wait!” a muffled cry sounded behind the door.

“Oh, shit,” a second voice added.

You grinned, listening to their pounding footsteps approaching the door. You stepped back just in time for Art to wrench the door open.

“Hi,” he greeted.

Patrick appeared a millisecond after him. “Hey!”

The pair of best friends were dishevelled, their hair still ruffled from hurriedly pulling on shirts, and their chests heaving slightly from the effort of a last-minute clean-up they were trying to conceal. Their appearances betrayed the frantic scramble to present a semblance of order in their room, and their efforts made you bite your lip to hide a growing smile. Most notably, their eyes were just as intense as you remembered, locking onto yours with a piercing gaze that sent a shiver down your spine.

Breaking their entranced stare, Tashi wondered, “Can we come in?”

You were quickly ushered inside and invited to sit on the carpeted floor. With amused, slightly confused eyes, you looked at Tashi and tilted your head, wondering why they were fussing so much. She rolled her eyes, mouthing the word, whipped, and gesturing to you. Soon, the boys settled on the carpet opposite you and Tashi, forming a natural square as they opened the can of beer they promised you.

Feeling awkward, you scanned the room and registered the twin beds pushed together with interest, suspicious after seeing Art and Patrick’s state of undress. Both were in their boxers and had shirts carelessly thrown on. Patrick’s shirt wasn’t even buttoned, revealing his toned torso with pride.

“We aren’t interrupting something, are we?” you wondered, eyes flitting between the best friends with an amused smile.

“Of course not,” Art was quick to deny your insinuation. When you spotted the shower cap covering the hotel smoke detector and frowned, he realised it wasn’t just that you didn’t smoke. You hated cigarettes and smoking. “We were just–”

“Passing the time,” Patrick filled in when Art hesitated.

“Right.”

“Exactly.”

“Did you guys go to, like, Mommy And Me classes together?” Tashi wondered, eliciting laughter from everyone in the room. Patrick took a sip of his beer, grinning. “What? You just seem like brothers.”

Their bond reminded Tashi of her friendship with you, and that was a rare feat.

“Well, that’s what the Mark Rebellato Tennis Academy will do for you,” Art said in a musical tone, smirking at Patrick beside him.

Tashi chuckled. “Oh. Right, right, right. You guys went to boarding school.”

“We’ve been bunkmates since we were twelve, so…” Patrick trailed off, shrugging.

“Hence the closeness,” you completed his sentence. “That’s cool!”

“Very cute,” Tashi agreed.

“You two ever think about doing something like that?” Art asked before drinking the can he got from Patrick.

“Boarding school?” Tashi shook her head. “No. No, no, no. We couldn’t afford it. And even if I could get a scholarship or something, there’s no way that my parents would want me coming of age in an environment like that,” she added, gesturing with her hands.

Patrick’s eyebrows pulled together. “Why? What were they afraid of?” Tashi lifted her eyebrows and nodded, silently pointing out the obvious. “Oh, yeah. Right!” Everyone laughed at that. “What about you?”

Usually, when a group of people had their eyes on you, it made you incredibly anxious. Sitting here with Art, Patrick, and Tashi felt safe. You weren’t worried about expressing your true thoughts or wearing the protective mask you had created over the years.

“I wish they would have sent me to boarding school,” you mused, rolling your eyes. “If my mother had it her way she would have homeschooled me and never taught me anything other than how to hit a ball across the net. I’d be a living, breathing tennis machine if it was up to her.”

“Ah.” Patrick nodded. “Right.”

“Luckily my dad convinced her that my education is just as important as a tennis career, so I got sent to a cushy private school nearby that was lenient enough to let me miss classes for competitions,” you added. “It was actually pretty great, I loved going to school. Getting into Stanford was a lifelong dream come true.”

“Really?” Art asked, grinning. He ran a hand through his curls and gave you the beer next. You were sitting so close that your bare knees brushed once in a while, sending a jolt through your body like a shot of espresso each time.

“What? Do I not seem like the brainy type?” you retorted, passing the can of beer on to Tashi after taking a sip.

“No, no, no–”

“I’ll have you know I was my class salutatorian, and just three months ago I gave a speech at graduation that was so beautiful it made everyone cry,” you bragged.

Art and Patrick couldn’t keep their eyes off you as you relaxed around them, your bare face free of makeup and your smile illuminating the room with a natural, effortless beauty. You were enchanting when you were at ease, making their heart swell with admiration. Every time your skin touched Art’s, it stirred something insatiable in him.

“Oh, it was heart-wrenching,” Tashi agreed. “Y/I is the only person I know at that school and I still teared up. She’s brilliant, she would’ve gotten into Stanford even without tennis.” Grateful, you leaned your head on her shoulder and kissed her cheek.

“At least now we finally get to play on the same team,” you mentioned happily.

“So how long have you two been friends?” Patrick questioned, motioning between you and Tashi. “Did you meet through tennis?”

“We met when I kicked T’s ass when we were fourteen,” you informed them, grinning teasingly at your best friend and lifting your head from her shoulder.

“I think that might be my favourite match I ever played,” Tashi confessed fondly.

You sat up straight, looking at your best friend and gaping. “Are you serious?!”

Tashi Duncan, the woman who lived and breathed tennis and trophies, had the most fun during a tennis match when she lost? It didn’t make sense, even to you, her best friend of four years.

“Definitely! You were the first person I met who played me and actually challenged me. I lost that game and I just thought, ‘I have to meet this girl. I’ve never played against someone who loves this game as much as me before, and there’s no way in hell I’m letting her go.’”

“Wow.” Patrick nodded, impressed. “That’s as good as the whole boarding school bond.”

Tashi grinned, turning to him with narrowed eyes. “So, is that where you met your girlfriend?” If Patrick was going to pursue her best friend, Tashi needed to get to the bottom of his romantic situation.

“Oh, she’s not my, um…” Patrick glanced at Art as the blond crossed his arms and leaned in close, looking pleasantly smug that someone had called him out. “Yeah, yeah.”

“And you? Why aren’t you pretending not to have a girlfriend?” Tashi questioned Art, taking another sip of her beer.

“Art’s in between ladies.”

It didn’t surprise you that Art and Patrick were popular with the girls at their school; not only were they ranked fifth and second in the juniors, but they were magnetically charming and wonderful to look at.

“Oh, no, no–” Art pointed at his best friend, resenting the tone Patrick took on– “That makes it sound like I’m some sort of–”

“Player,” Tashi suggested.

“Pompous promiscuous philanderer,” you offered an alternative. Tashi and Patrick giggled, enjoying your alliteration.

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, Art does fine for himself,” Patrick added happily. “I mean, look at him–” he reached over to touch Art’s face and was immediately pushed away.

“So…” Tashi looked expectantly between the boys. “How often does this happen?” she inquired, motioning her pointer finger in a circle to indicate the situation you now found yourselves in. “Going after the same girls?”

“Not as often as you think, actually.”

“Really?” you exclaimed.

“No.”

“Yeah, no, we, uh…” Art grinned. “We usually have different types,” he revealed.

“Hmm. So you’re saying we should be flattered?” Tashi teased.

You sat up, holding your hand up as if you were taking an oath. “I know I am,” you played up the ridicule Tashi had started. “The thought that two teenage boys might both be interested in me? That’s about as rare as tennis balls at practice!”

“Or sunshine in California,” Tashi chimed, referencing more common things to hammer the point home.

“Boys are too easy,” you commented. “All it takes is boobs to capture their interest, that’s it.”

Art risked a look at you and grinned broadly. “Isn’t that just because you’re everybody’s type?” he retorted. His candied gaze swept your body languidly, lingering on the boobs you just referenced. You felt your cheeks warm at the attention, equally stunned and impressed by his gall.

“Ah, yes. Many have tried and none have succeeded thus far,” Tashi reported, handing the can of beer back to you. “Y/N’s very picky when it comes to guys. They don’t tend to stick around, and not because they don’t want to.”

That caught Patrick’s attention. “Oh, really? You have a specific type, do you?” He glanced at you with a mischievous glimmer in his eyes.

You tried not to stare at his lithe body, stretched out and perfectly on display. “Of course,” you agreed readily. “Only the best for me. Six foot one, brunet, build like a god–”

“So far so good,” Patrick mused, pleased with your description.

“Spanish,” Tashi added helpfully. At that, Patrick deflated.

You pointed at her, nodding enthusiastically. “Right, thanks! Yes, Spanish–” You paused to recall what attributes you might have forgotten. “Youngest French Open winner in history–”

At that, Art burst into laughter. “No fucking way! You’re just describing Nadal,” he accused.

Patrick groaned, rolling his eyes. “Oh, come on! I thought you were being serious.”

You smirked, shrugging and sharing a pleased look with Tashi. “What can I say, I like winners,” you teased, not meaning it. “With glorious biceps.”

“So glorious,” Tashi agreed through her laughter.

You smiled and shook your head. “No, I don’t have a type. I’ve just never met anyone who wanted me for something other than my looks or status, so I didn’t ask any of them to stay.” Art and Patrick nodded, sympathising with you.

“What about the two of you?” Tashi inquired, motioning between the pair.

Still smiling, Art asked, “What do you mean?”

“You know…” you nodded intentionally. “Beds pushed together, hanging out with minimal clothing. Have you ever…?”

Patrick’s smile slipped a little, and he tilted his head, thinking it over. Art seemed startled by the suggestion. “Oh! No,” he declared. More awkwardly than you expected them to, they laughed. “No. Why? Is that surprising?”

“Not surprising,” you mused. “You just seem very…”

“Close,” Tashi implied.

Everyone turned to look at Patrick, waiting for his input. As you observed his expression, you noticed a subtle tension in his features, hinting that he was restraining himself beneath the surface.

“What?” you wondered, too curious to hold back.

“Well–”

“No,” Art interjected. His smile was long gone, and a deadpan expression kissed his features. He shook his head, looking more severe than you thought the blond was capable of. Perhaps that was the real reason he was ice in their dynamic…

“I mean–”

“No,” Art insisted. Patrick spluttered, trying to get a word in as nervous chortles escaped him. “Patrick, no.”

Still laughing, Patrick said, “Sorry.”

“Yes,” Tashi encouraged happily.

“No.”

“I think you need to tell us now,” she added.

“It sounds way too good to hold back,” you excitedly agreed.

“No.”

Patrick reached for the beer and looked at his best friend with a delighted smile. “I think it’s a sweet story,” he remarked.

“Uh-huh,” Art agreed sarcastically, putting his head in his hand to hide his face from you. “All right.”

“Well, let’s hear it,” Tashi exclaimed excitedly.

Embarrassed, Art allowed it, “Yeah, no, go ahead.”

“Uh…” Patrick and Art spluttered, dissolving into awkward laughter. “I taught Art how to jerk off,” Patrick confessed. You stared at him in surprise, not having expected that answer. “So…”

To avoid your eyes, Patrick drank his beer, and Art hid the bottom half of his face inside his grey Stanford t-shirt. As you and Tashi exchanged amused glances, a silent understanding passed between you, your eyes alight with shared delight. At that moment, the dynamic in the group shifted, and you realised Tashi had been right.

Whether or not you believed her earlier, you had the power here; you were in control.

“I think I need a little more than that,” you admitted, testing the waters and not wanting to push them too far.

Art’s head popped up. “Okay,” he began, making you and Tashi howl with laughter at his sudden 180. “Patrick was an early bloomer–” Art pointed an accusatory finger at his best friend, who smirked– “Okay? And I think that I was on time. And one time–” he emphasised that it only happened once– “When we were twelve, he thought I was asleep and he was, you know…”

“Jerking off,” they chorused.

“And, yeah… And I asked him, ‘What are you doing?’ And he told me. He’s…”

Again, in unison, they said, “Jerking off.”

You bit your lip to suppress your laughter.

“He asked me if I had ever done it before.” Art snickered as he spoke. “And I told him no. And so, he just… He showed me how.” When he was done, Art finally looked up at you and Tashi. Proudly, Patrick nodded, confirming the story.

Tashi stared. “What do you mean he showed you how?” she wondered, mimicking how Art had pronounced the words. You looked behind you at their beds pushed together and nodded, also wanting to know the specifics.

Spotting your sideways glance, Art quickly defended himself, “No. I mean–”

“Well–”

“I mean, he did it on his bed–” Art pointed to the left to indicate where Patrick’s bed was in their room. “I did it on my bed–” he gestured to the right, purposely creating distance between their beds in the story– “We did it together, but like on opposite sides in the room.”

“Yeah. Mm-hmm.” Patrick wagged a finger and assented with a nod. Your eyes travelled south as he adjusted his underwear, and you raised a sceptical eyebrow at the timing.

“You know.” Art cleared his throat loudly.

Tashi was entranced by the story, finding it more entertaining as they provided further details. “Silent?” she inquired, astonished.

“Oh, no, no!”

“No, no!” The boys laughed.

“No, we were talking about Kat, weren’t we?” Art recalled.

Patrick pointed and agreed, “Kat Zimmerman!”

“Patrick said it’s always better–”

“Yeah.”

“–if you’re, like, thinking about somebody when you’re doing it. And so I asked him who you’re thinking about, and he was talking about this girl–”

“Kat Zimmerman,” they recited in harmony.

“And so, I thought about her, too.”

“Wow,” you and Tashi intoned in unison, rendered speechless by their story.

“Yeah…”

“Okay.” As the bolder of the two of you, Tashi had no problem probing them for further information, even if it was embarrassing. “And who finished first?”

“Oh, I don’t remember–”

“I think you,” Patrick cut in.

The air crackled with tension as Patrick and Art’s gazes locked in a loaded stare, the weight of the personal revelation hanging between them.

“Is this a normal thing guys do?” you wondered, changing the subject so as not to dwell on Art’s embarrassment. “What happened afterwards?”

Patrick chuckled as Art shook his head. “I think Art was a little surprised by the whole thing,” he revealed, telling the rest of the story through unsuccessfully suppressed laughter. “He was–” another chortle escaped him; Art hid his face in his shirt again– “He was just sitting there covered in all of it.”

Tashi laughed. “What?!”

“He looked like a kid who’d spilled milk all over his lap!”

As the four of you roared with laughter at the hilarious story, Art couldn’t help but yell, “Jesus, Patrick!”

The shared laughter unexpectedly deepened the bond between the four of you; the tension that had previously hung in the air dissipated, replaced by a sense of camaraderie and closeness thanks to the reverberating giggles. The story was rooted in innocence and exploration that made you feel at ease in Art and Patrick’s company, forging connections that transcended your brief acquaintance with them.

It was easy to fall into place with them and feel like you belonged.

“I knew enough already at this point to have a sock nearby, right? Forgot to tell Art about that part,” Patrick added.

“Yeah. Mm-hmm.” Art took turns burying his face in his t-shirt and letting himself laugh in the open.

“Yeah, so…”

“Right. Okay.” Tashi grinned ear to ear. “And what about Miss Zimmerman?” She reached over to take the beer from Patrick’s grasp. “What ever happened to her? You guys…” Tashi trailed off.

Patrick shook his head. “Neither of us… She got injured a week later and had to quit.”

You frowned a little. “Really? That’s terrible!”

To cheer you up, Patrick quickly assured you, “She wasn’t very good in the first place.”

“No, she sucked,” Art agreed. “Yeah.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, no, you’re right. That is a very cute story,” Tashi gave them her stamp of approval.

Patrick quietly laughed. “Thanks. What about you two?” he turned the tables on you. Art perked up at the suggestion.

You rolled your eyes. “You wish,” you waved them off.

“We really do,” Art joked.

“No, me and Tashi are soulmates for sure, but nothing like you two ever happened,” you clarified. “It can’t be explained by platonic love, but it’s not romance either. We’re just…” you paused, trying to find the right words for it. “Two halves of a whole, completing each other.”

“It’s actually really crazy,” Tashi chimed in. “I was going through life thinking something was missing, and when we met I realised I wasn’t a whole person until I had Y/N in my life.”

“Wow,” Art mumbled quietly, entranced by how you and Tashi spoke about your relationship.

“Have you ever met someone and it feels like they’ve been a part of your life forever, even though you just met?” you added, hoping to paint an accurate picture for Art and Patrick. They smiled fondly, making brief eye contact and nodding. “That’s what it’s like with me and Tashi. We just click, you know? We always did. Like two pieces of a puzzle. I can’t explain it, but being with her just feels right.”

“Same here,” Tashi added happily. “It’s like she’s the mirror–” she motioned from her chest to you for emphasis– “reflecting the best parts of me back at myself. Without her, I’m not sure I’d recognise the person staring back at me.”

You smiled affectionately at your best friend, going to retrieve the beer from her but finding it empty. “Oh,” you exclaimed. “We’re out of beer.”

The boys looked at each other unsurely. “Um…”

Tashi glanced at you expectantly, and without speaking, you could tell what she was telling you. We have all the power here, Y/I. You were more aware of this truth than ever but didn’t know how to proceed. You thought to yourself, if you were as bold and confident as Tashi, what would you do?

You got to your feet, suddenly looking down at your new friends. You weren’t sure if it was the minimal beer in your bloodstream – combined with the champagne you and Tashi snuck at her party a couple hours ago – but your heart raced, palms growing clammy as nervous excitement coursed through your veins. The anticipation was almost too much to bear. Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you gathered your courage, feeling a flutter in your stomach as you sat on their beds.

When Art and Patrick stared at you with awe-filled eyes, you smiled. “You know, it feels a little lonely up here without you–” You barely got the words out when Patrick took a seat on your left, Art joining you on your other side right after. “I don’t believe that you don’t go after the same girls for a single second,” you admitted, carefully studying the boys’ faces. “But there is something I’m curious about.”

“What?” they chorused.

“Who the better kisser is,” you revealed. You heard Patrick and Art’s breath catching in their throats and looked at Tashi on the floor with a surprised grin. “Feel like joining us, T?”

Smirking proudly at your nerve, Tashi rested her hands on the carpet and leaned back to observe. “I’m good here,” she declined your offer, preferring to watch from her spot on the floor. Tashi knew those boys were there for one girl only, and it wasn’t her. “Don’t let me interrupt.”

“So… who wants to go first?” you offered.

Painfully desperate to kiss you, Art whispered, “Please.” It was like he didn’t realise he had said it.

You turned to him, admiring his features. Art’s face was flushed with a deep, rosy hue, his adoring eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that spoke of pure, unwavering worship. It was as if the entire world had vanished, and all he could see – all he could focus on – was you, the girl who had captivated his soul. Your heart pounded at the sight of his unadulterated emotions, wishing you could be so open with your own.

“Since you asked so nicely,” you replied, letting your eyes flit between Art’s deep blue eyes and pink lips before closing the space between you and kissing him.

Your lips met softly, a gentle brush that made you both shiver. For a moment, Art couldn’t think; his senses were overwhelmed with the pillowy touch of your lips and the fact that you kissed him first, not Patrick. The warmth of his touch ignited a spark in you as he swept his thumbs across your cheeks affectionately, caressing you to ensure that you were real and not just a part of his imagination. The subtle scent of something characteristically Art was intoxicating, and you deepened the kiss, parting your lips slightly and shifting closer. Like they did when you sat on the carpet next to him, your knees touched, and his skin felt scorching hot.

Getting bolder, Art ran his hands up your bare thighs, sighing against your mouth at the feeling of the warm expanse of your legs. Your cheeks and legs felt hot; it was like all the warmth in your body was flowing to the areas where Art was touching you. It was almost like a dance, and it occurred to you that kissing Art was just like meeting his eyes, unrestrained in his emotional expression and leaving you wanting more. Gently, he nudged his nose against yours, almost lazy in his slow exploration of your mouth.

It wasn’t just sweet; it was heavenly.

When you leaned back to pull away, Art’s lips chased you. You had to place your hands on his chest for him to open his eyes and realise what you were doing. For a moment, you just looked at each other, enjoying your flustered expressions and the sight of your bruised lips.

You barely turned to face Patrick when he crashed his lips to yours and collided with a fiery intensity different from your kiss with Art. Like his playing style, Patrick’s kiss was a passionate exchange that left you breathless and your skin tingling with every brush of his mouth. This kiss was raw and emotive, a stark contrast to the sweet tenderness and devotion of Art’s. Where Art relished in the slow ease of your kiss, Patrick’s swift confidence was dominating and fiery. You gasped a little when his teeth bit your top lip. He chuckled, pecking your lips before his tongue soothed the spot he bit.

While Art had grabbed your thighs to touch more of you, Patrick nearly yanked you towards him to have you closer, almost impossibly so. From the sudden movement, Art’s hands fell from your thighs, and he stared, open-mouthed, as his best friend made you groan appreciatively. Patrick’s hands cradled the back of your head, ushering you in his direction, and you tangled your fingers in his tousled curls. The hunger and need in his kiss sent your head spinning.

He kissed you like it was his last day on earth, head tilted to one side and tongue teasing yours in a way that made you glad you were sitting because your knees felt weak.

Running out of air, you pulled away and felt your stomach flooding with heat at the sight of Patrick’s pupil-blown lake-blue eyes. You didn’t realise someone could look at you with so much desire, and it made you gasp quietly. The low orange light of the hotel room glinted off his eyes, mirroring the spark you felt jolting your body each time his lips touched yours. Patrick was warm and intense but still adoring. He was flushed but not as pink as Art. Instead, his cheeks were red, and the rest of him was almost golden. His blue-green, deep eyes stripped away your defences without any effort, hinting at the effortless understanding you had only ever felt with Tashi in the past. You were so seen, so understood that you wanted to shy away from his gaze; it was like Patrick could see the depths of your being, leaving you feeling exposed yet inexplicably drawn to him.

“I’m not sure I can decide,” you admitted as your heart raced. Your mind swirled, trying to grasp the reality of the sweet and dizzying kisses that left your lips tingling and your thoughts pleasantly hazy. There was an inexplicable lightness in your body despite the heaviness in the air. They were both perfect in their own ways, neither better than the other.

It was nothing Art or Patrick had ever experienced before.

You touched them with such care and emotion, so much want, that it left them needing more. It wasn’t just that the brush of your lips felt like perfection, but the fact that you were the one doing it made all the difference.

You had kissed them. You had made them feel this way.

They couldn’t hide their physiological response to your sweet affection and didn’t even try. For Patrick, it was visible in the heavy way his chest rose and fell to catch his breath while the tightening sensation in Art’s pants was there for everyone to see.

“Maybe the two of you could help me decide…” you trailed off, gently closing the gap between the two best friends and encouraging their lips to meet.

Patrick and Art were so entranced – not only with you but by the effect they had on you – that they didn’t fight it. Perhaps it was because they had so many years of history, but their kiss was even more impassioned and unrestrained. They were all tongue and teeth, connected only by their mouths until Patrick tugged Art closer by the shoulder. You watched with hungry, curious eyes, noting how Patrick always seemed to need to be adjoined to the person he was kissing. Art got lost in their kiss just as he had with yours, giving everything he had to Patrick and holding nothing back.

It was so beautiful you didn’t know what to do with yourself. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think you were falling for them.

Breath hitching in panic, you dragged your eyes away, looking down at Tashi for help.

“Well, this was fun,” she declared, effectively saving you from having to say anything. Tashi was proud that you’d gone after what you wanted, and she could tell with one glance at your face that you were ready to go. If there was one thing Tashi knew, it was that you preferred to run from your feelings than confront them head-on. “Thanks for the beer. We’re going to bed,” Tashi added, getting up and putting her slides back on.

Art and Patrick parted and turned to look at you with twin stunned expressions.

“We have to get going,” you agreed with your best friend. Tashi pulled you up off the bed with a tender tug.

“What about your numbers?” Patrick asked, now more desperate than ever before.

“We already told you, we’re not homewreckers,” Tashi reminded them as you placed your feet into your slippers.

Art nearly begged, “Please.”

Tashi released a short laugh. “Um… Okay, uh… We will be watching your match tomorrow. Y/N likes winners–” Everyone’s eyes flickered over to you, and you averted your eyes shyly– “so whoever wins can have their girl of choice’s number. The other guy has to back off.”

Art exhaled, leaning forward in disappointment. Smug, Patrick readily agreed to the terms of the bet, “All right.”

“Don’t give up before the match even starts,” you encouraged Art, wanting to take one last look into his icy blue eyes before you returned to your room. “You can beat him if you want to. I really believe that, Art.” The honeyed way you said his name only worsened the blond’s hard-on. He inhaled sharply, eyes shutting in a moment of bliss.

“Are you saying you want me to?”

“Are you saying he’s the better kisser?” Patrick added curiously. His hooded eyes made his already dark eyes appear almost pitch-black, pupils blown wide.

“She’s saying you’re not going to get anyone’s number if you don’t,” Tashi corrected him.

Art asked, “But what do you want?”

“I don’t know about Y/N, but I want to watch some good fucking tennis,” Tashi said pointedly. “I’ll leave that up to you two. Good night.” She grinned and went to open the door, stepping outside and holding it open for you.

You cleared your throat and resorted to humour like you did when the tension was too thick. “Why don’t you just–” you motioned to the beds they had pushed together– “You know. For old time’s sake.” Art stared at you with huge eyes at the insinuation. When your eyes flitted to the brunet beside him, you could tell Patrick was trying not to smirk. “And don’t forget, it’s always better if you’re thinking about somebody when you’re doing it,” you quoted Patrick in a faux innocent voice, lips curving into a smug grin as Tashi shut the door behind you.

#challengers #art donaldson x reader #patrick zweig x reader #challengers movie #challengers x reader #tashi duncan #art donaldson #patrick zweig #challengers fanfiction #challengers fanfic #art donaldson imagine #art donaldson x you #patrick zweig x you #patrick zweig imagine #fic: guilty as sin?

265 notes · View notes

andhumanslovedstories · 2 days

Text

I’ve been struggling lately with the feeling that my job is pointless. Intellectually I know it is not—nursing is one of those professions where you get to be real smug about knowing the value of your work. But it’s still felt very pointless. Like I’ll start a shift thinking, “what am I even doing here,” and end it thinking, “what have I actually even done.” It’s been a ROUGH couple months.

But I had a really good shift last time I worked, which was good for the soul and also a very useful data point. I got to do pain management advocacy and symptom management, met a bunch of cool patients, did education for new nurses, and had several long heart to hearts, which the kind of midnight heart to hearts that I think are the most important part of night shift, all of that while being well staffed with very pleasant and appreciative patients and coworkers, and I was still like. Pretty depressed. I had a sense of satisfaction and moments of joy and meaning, but it turns out that one good shift did not cure the depression that has been latched on to me for the last few months like some kind of fucked up mental health leech. As I realized I was still depressed and that it was still interfering with my life even when everything was going well, the sense of peace washed over me was the best I’d felt in a while. Because I was like, okay! None of my usual stuff as worked! I have no excuse not to try something new to get my brain out of the shit ditch it’s slipped into.

So I’m applying for short-term disability. I’m worried I won’t get it, and I’m not sure what the next step is if I get rejected, but I feel so much better having decided to pursue it. It’s so much fuckin paperwork for sure, to a degree that’s overwhelming except that that the form could be a checkbox that says, “you want money?” and I’d be like “THIS IS TOO MUCH.” I’m totally not writing this post instead of finishing an email to my manager. I’m definitely not writing this post to avoid dealing with coordinating all my various care providers. I’m certainly not at every moment worried that I’m secretly faking all this so I can get three to nine weeks of a cool summer vacation.

I was thinking about how I almost flunked nursing school in my final semester because I turned in assignments late for a class with a “no late homework” policy. The professor said that this was reflective of real life, where if you miss deadlines you’re just fucked. I ended up appealing my grade and passing, because frankly it was a weak reason for making me repeat a final semester when there was no issues with my actual work or knowledge. During my appeal, I was like “I also think this policy is ableist. Harsh penalties for late work hurt students with health problems, especially chronic health problems when you aren’t asking for one week off due to the flu but instead for a general and never ending flexibility. I’m not trying to make an excuse but explain why this policy is a bad one. Disabled healthcare workers are an asset to healthcare.” I’m trying to remember my own argument as I pursue help. My depression and ADHD and eating disorder do help me be a better nurse, not because like depression gives you superpowers, but because I manage my chronic illnesses every day, in ways that range from hardly noticeable to life or death. Being kind to patients means being kind to myself, and vice versa.

I’m rambling. I really do not want to do this paperwork or send these emails. And I’m not sure if I deserve the leave I’m trying to take. But I miss being love with my job. I miss enjoying it. I wouldn’t judge someone else for going on medical leave, and my job doesn’t want me to burn out or quit. It almost feels like I have to be skeptical of applying for leave because no one else is. Everyone I’ve spoken to has been very supportive, including my manager. And considering how many unpaid days off I’ve had to take lately, disability leave would be an improvement over some of my recent paychecks. All in all, short-term disability makes sense and seems like a reasonable response to circumstances. But FUCK. I wish it required like 90 percent less documentation.

#nursing tag

253 notes · View notes

imaluckygirl · 1 day

Text

leak & delete

( enhypen reaction ) - HYUNG LINE

synopsis: what if your boyfriend — accidentally — press the post button and suddenly a photo of both of you together starts circulating on the internet/news? how he would react?

( 엔하이픈 ) - idol!hyungline x fem.reader ( maknae ver. ) ; angst & fluff

— bookshelf .

warnings: curse words, mentions of breaking up, jaeyun might be the most desperate member, enha members have a private instagram account ; long descriptions.

note: omgggg look who appeared! *insert eyes emoji* ,, on my last pool i asked what is you guys favorite type of headcanon, and, not that surprisingly, enhypen reactions won!! ; so i’ll try to post more enha reactions ><

heeseung would immediately go and apologise to you. he really wants to reveal you as his girlfriend and show you off, but he knew better than no one how crazy fans are; so when it came to this situation, he panicked. he texted you after accidentally posting a ‘couple’ photo on his twitter account, and letting the photo on air for about two minutes. enough for the whole internet go nuts.

heeseung wanted to go at your house and see you, hug you, kiss you and apologise for his stupidity — even though it wasn’t heeseung’s fault anyway —, but he thought it was a bad idea since he was already on the dispatch’s paparazzi’s eyes. realising you were probably busy and wasn’t on your phone since the text he sent you wasn’t even viewed, he called you with agony burning deep down inside his chest, going up to his neck and all of the feelings he was going through was making him overwhelmed. he was nervously biting onto his nails and shaking his legs nonstop; also walking around the house, waiting for you to get his call.

when your boyfriend finally heard your sleepy voice behind the call he didn’t know if he was supposed to react with happiness or concern for his own relationship and specially his girlfriend: you. from the few things you heard your boyfriend speak yell was that he fucked up and told you that he’s so sorry. “babe, what are you talking about right now?” you rubbed your eye. “didn’t you see it? fuck- look, i’ll fix what i just did.” and you still didn’t understand what the hell he was talking about.

you had no idea what your boyfriend was so concerned about almost yelling through the pho- OH. wait. what the fuck? how does this person has the photo heeseung took at your birthday? and then when you started processing his words you cooed a “oh…” and he would panic. “i’m so sorry, fuck, i’ll fix it babe; i’m so-” the call was interrupted by his manager calling him.

next day heeseung was called to go to HYBE’s building because he had to talk with the manager and the CEO. he wasn’t ready, but was quite pacified because you called him earlier after you read an dispatch article — talking about both of you’s relationship — and told him to calm down and keep his conscience clean; you knew it wasn’t his fault in the end of the day. oh well, the CEO asked heeseung why did he do that, and how this photo could ruin his reputation between — specifically female — fans. he was just nodding his head and apprehensively pursing his lips.

okay, let’s make a resume: the CEO asked if heeseung would rather choose his career or his relationship. since heeseung never felt this way with someone before — not even his three month girlfriend at high school; the girl he liked for three years —, so he told the superior that he would be with you. the CEO wasn’t really impressed or seemed happy, but he knew that heeseung wasn’t going back when he asked if he was sure three times, and heeseung agreed.

after the internet fever was gone, four months later heeseung and you agreed to reveal both of you’s relationship since going out for dates was a thing that you wanted to be more frequent; and with so many eyes on him was hard. oh gosh, he couldn’t be more happy and giddy. loving you was finally not a secret anymore, and heeseung could show people how lucky he is to have someone to love like there is no tomorrow.

i think jongseong would’ve be the most pacific one. he would accidentally post the photo and, a minute later after realising he posted it, delete it without even flinching. of course he panicked inside, but the moment he realised it was posted, he clicked onto his profile and deleted the photo. it was hours later, when he was at your place, that he picked up his phone and saw a ton of missed calls from his manager and superior. jongseong got worried, thinking something happened, but already has forgotten about the accident from earlier — even thought he thought it was something related to it. however, it was already midnight and he was sleeping by your side on the bed, he wasn’t going to pick up the phone right now. so he just sighed and yawned, turning his body back to hug your asleep figure, hearing your soft snores as he slowly fell back asleep.

the next day he woke up and didn’t feel you laid by his side, so he got up and went to see you say ‘good morning’. except, it wasn’t a good morning for you. your friend had texted you saying that there was photos of you and jongseong going viral on twitter. you didn’t know how to react, thinking it was just a prank or your friend had mistaken you with another person? but, oh boy, when you saw a picture of you that your boyfriend had taken a week ago, you were still in denial; yet shocked and feeling betrayed. it was a screenshot of his own instagram account, showing that it was posted on his own page.

you stood up from bed in a blink of an eye, not even bothering to wake your sleepy boyfriend beside you. you were with your mouth open and a ton of thoughts going through your mind. you are not a celebrity like your boyfriend, so dealing with this type of situation was a hundred percent harder than it was. when you heard those familiar footsteps, your whole body tensed up and your eyes unconsciously widened, surprised by his presence. your phone was on and you were searching your name and jongseong’s name, trying to see what was happening and what happened while you weren’t online.

“darling? what happened?” your boyfriend asked you with a confused and groggy voice, and slowly stepped closer to you and laid his head onto your shoulder as he sat down on the sofa by your side; feeling extra clingy. “babe, i have something to ask you.” you hesitantly spoke after a few minutes of your pure silence. “yeah? what is it?” he looked at you with his sleepy — kinda droopy — eyes. “um… wait, i’ll show you.” you handed him your phone, dispatch’s twitter post on the screen and his name as the main subject — and yours as well. people were fast, you thought when you saw your name being spread across the whole internet. “why is there people attacking me now? and why did you post a photo of me on your profile?” your eyes started to tear. “people are saying i shouldn’t be with you and they are threatening me…” you added, murmuring. “oh shit, i’m so sorry baby, i didn’t know this was going to happen.” his brows dropped and his senses were suddenly awake.

as jongseong saw your teary eyes, his heart dropped. you felt your body being hugged after being pulled closer in a swift and soft movement. “you must be scared, right babe?” he placed a kiss onto your forehead. jongseong began to explain what actually happened, because netizens were saying he was ‘hard’ launching his girlfriend — you —, making a joke with the ‘soft launching’ thing. you apologised at him for accusing him of something so serious, but he brushed your guiltiness away, already worried enough about your feelings and what was running through your head. “i’ll my manager and call it a day,” he pulled your chin, gazing at your with deep and honest eyes. “i promise i’ll fix everything, mhm?” you nodded your head, confirming him that you trust on him even though you were feeling betrayed a few minutes ago.

jongseong eventually called his manager after a sigh of courage and expected his manager to curse at him, and call him irresponsible and a inconsequent boy — even though he was old enough to be called a man. however, his manager pick up the phone and immediately told him to make his own choices, and knowing jongseong, the manager even asked him if someone has hacked his insta account. jongseong denied anything that was false, telling his manager that he wasn’t working that day. surprisingly, after a few days, dispatch posted a tweet/post and updated that the photo was accidentally leaked, and trustful fonts told them that the girl on the picture was someone he was talking to — if it was a silly lie, because both of you have been dating for a year now — and has strong feelings towards you. although dispatch’s update was pretty coherent and respectful, jongseong hadn’t approved the message, but you were satisfied with the situation now, so it was enough for him to lay down his head on his pillow with his mind clean after a thousand apologies later.

okay, let’s get into jaeyun’s situation. he was simply giggling at a couple of photos he had taken of you and the ones he had taken with you. jaeyun has a private account where he posts pictures of him with you, but i guess he might got a bit carried away and forgot to switch from his public account. HOWEVER! he posted the photo and a second later someone messaged him, so, peacefully, he clicked on the message LEAVING THE INSTAGRAM FOLD and even SCROLLING IT UP; making the fold vanish.

minutes later jaeyun heard a couple of knocks on his door and jungwon walked in his room without even asking. “he-” “what the fudge is this?!” jungwon asked, pointing his index finger at his phone’s screen, showing that there was something on the screen that he wanted jaeyun to see; but he couldn’t tell what it was. “i can’t see.” he frowned, relaxing his head back to his pillow, stretching his nape after a groan. “WHY ARE THEY SAYING YOU ANNOUNCED YOU ARE DATING?!” the enha’s leader-nim yelled nervously, but took a deep breath before speaking again, watching how quick jaeyun’s face expression changed; to a surprised confused one. “what do you mea- why?!”.

a few hours later, jungwon has called jaeyun’s manager to explain the whole situation and eventually the guilty puppy deleted the photo HOURS later. even though it was hours later he deleted the photo, you didn’t see it, until you invited your close friend over your house and after a while talking, breaking into a awkward silence, she asked you about you and your boyfriend’s relationship, congratulating you for this big moment. “congrats for…?” you dropped your head to the side, pouting while confused. “um? i thought jaeyun had announce his relationship with you?”; and before you could even question her anymore things, your phone ringed.

“babe! listen to me! i’m sorry, i didn’t want this to happen like this!” spoke jaeyun through the line. “jake, i’m with a friend right now, what happened?” you cocked a brow, turning your head to your friend that was curious to know what you were talking about with your boyfriend. you shrugged, completely dumbfounded after he said that he accidentally posted a picture with you on his official account. “wait… i have to- wait,” you were trying to process everything, rubbing your temples while your friend was still watching you, this time rubbing your arm; realising what both of you were talking about. “i’m so sorry… please don’t leave me… i-i’m coming to your place, okay? i’ll jus-” the call ended.

your friend saw how your face was pale and how shocked you looked, already seeing some hateful comments about you on the internet. your friend, even concern, learned that you and jaeyun were about to talk; and that, eventually, he was coming over to talk to you. you said goodbye to your friend and after fifteen minutes later you heard a desperate knock on your door, followed by the desperate voice of your boyfriend. “babe! open the door, it’s me; i’m sorry…”

“i’m sorry, i’ve saw people already sending you so many bad things.” your boyfriend sighed. “i understood you baby,” you cupped his cheeks after his long explanation. “and, i will never leave you.” you smiled at him, reassuring him as you gazed at puppy eyes that you were here; with him. “so… does that means you’re okay with this exposition?” he hesitantly asked you. “um… is not that i’m okay, but i can deal with that.” you nodded your head, pouting your lips, hearing your boyfriend’s giggles; and then feeling his lips smash onto yours. “i love you.” he spoke between your lips.

sunghoon wouldn’t really mind, but he would be concerned about your feelings. definitely wouldn’t care if his relationship with you gets leaked, he thinks it would even ease the stress of having to deal with all the acceptance process from all parts. however, is not that sunghoon was okay with accidentally posting a picture with you, with his lips smashed onto yours. oh gosh he was cooked.

he was kinda a grandpa when it came to social media. adding the fact that his instagram account was recently created and was slowly updating the account’s feed — and that made the picture even more relevant. you were laying on the sofa with sunghoon between your thighs when you saw a text from your friend written like:

“WHAT THE FUCK?????? YOU DATE SUNGHOON AND I DIDNT KNOW???? Y/N WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?”

oh gosh, and that was an headache. you didn’t answered her, leaving your phone on silent as you poked sunghoon’s shoulder. “sunghoon, why my friend just texted me showing a picture of you kissing me?” you calmly asked, trying to see how far your boyfriend could go. “i don’t know.” he shrugged, moving his body to snuggled onto your side this time. “what did she sent you?” he placed his head close to your chest and shoulder, hugging your waist gently. you picked up your phone and handed it to him, watching how his brows frowned as he scrolled to the end of the messages. “wha- how do they-?” sunghoon was out of words and breath.

he took his phone in a swift move after handing yours back to you and saw the same picture. posted. on. his. instagram. account. fuck.

“oh my god, i’m so sorry, i didn’t see i posted it!” sunghoon calmly apologised, even though he was panicking inside; with the feeling of his body heating up, but his feet and hands still cold. it was like a bittersweet sensation. he was excited to not be a secret with you, but when he realised what situation he has accidentally put you in the sweet feeling was quickly brushed away; morphing into a full of guiltiness pout.

you didn’t know what to say or how to react either. you were just listening to his side of story, blankly looking at the celling, barely actually focusing on his words. “and-” “sunghoon,” you called him, interrupting his yapps. “yeah?!” he sounded desperate and expecting something coming out of your mouth that could make him smile somehow. “it’s better if we stop secretly dating, or else this relationship won’t work anyway.” you shrugged, showing your point of view. “what do you mean?” your boyfriend was confused and apprehensive. “i mean that,” you coughed, cupping your boyfriend’s cheeks and eventually watching how his black eyes were widened and shiny. “if we pretend that nothing happened, things would get weird, knowing that you want to announce our relationship so bad; so, um…” “so…?” he cooed, following your extended tone. “tomorrow we can call your company and tell them to release an announcement, is that okay?” you simply asked him, also knowing that the company already knew about his relationship and accepted it — after sunghoon insisting a lot.

finishing this mess with a “thank you. i love you.” and a kiss. the next day’s morning your phone was full of notifications, from socials and relatives. you might have started a mess, but you knew things would work out since you have park sunghoon by your side.

taglist: @jakesangel , @laylasbunbunny . . .

208 notes · View notes