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2hightocare · 1 month

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DOWN BAD! 02

Synopsis: Despite undeniable chemistry, your guys’ relationship remains undefined, caught between playful teasing to deeper, unspoken longing.

Pairings: bad boy! jungkook x fem! reader

Genre: friends to lovers. college au. slowburn!

Warnings: angst, drug use, profanity, explicit content, talks about abusive home, fighting, arguing, screaming, crying, flashbacks, oc and jk are nineteen (freshmen’s in uni) mentions of death, daddy/mommy issues.

a/n: GOSHHHHHHH! pray for my girl yn😓😓 she’s down bad and she fr ain’t getting up. Left you guys on a cliffhanger hehe. enjoy🤍🤍

01! playlist

"What do you want?" He says, the smallest glint of amusement on his face has Jungkook's stomach recoiling.

"The regular," Jungkook found himself saying, reaching into his pocket, pulling out his wallet. "I don't have opioids. My supplier said there was a shortage—want to try some new shit?" Yoongi says as he balances his cigarette on his lips, looking into a cabin.

"You've tried snow before, right?" He looks up at Jungkook who stands there. "No, I told you l don't fuck with that shit," Jungkook shakes his head, putting his wallet back into the pocket of his jeans.

"It's on me, just try it," Yoongi hands Jungkook a small bag filled with white powder. "Just snort it and let it do its thing, boy," Yoongi chuckles as he watches Jungkook look down at the drug in his palm. "It won't kill you if that's what you're thinking," he continues, taking a drag from his cigarette before exhaling.

Jungkook's mind immediately goes to you as the words leave Yoongi's mouth.

“You’re going to kill yourself,” you scream, your hands pulling on your hair as Jungkook watches silently—his heart breaking as he sees the tear fall from your eye. Whatever he wants to say stays stuck in his throat.

“I’ll be fine,” Jungkook finds himself muttering, a loud scoff heard from you as you hold his face in your hands, making him look up at you. “Tell me what’s wrong, fuck! I’ll fix it, just tell me,” you cry out. Jungkook watches as your legs give out and you drop to the floor in front of him.

Jungkook feels his stomach drop, his heartbeat stops, and his mind goes blank. He wants to drop to his knees and beg you to not care and run away as far as you can from him, but the selfish part of him wants you to stay.

“Baby,” Jungkook slurs, the drugs in his system not letting him speak normally. “I’m so fucking sorry,” he apologizes again for the hundredth time in the past few days. Jungkook drops beside you, removing your hands from your face as another sob racks through your body. Your eyes red and puffy as tears continue to cascade down.

Jungkook knows nothing about love, but there’s you. The highlight of his days, the only reason he even wants to wake up in the morning.

He hates how he drags you along with him—in every bad decision he makes. Jungkook’s life hasn’t been easy; an abusive household isn’t something anybody wants, but he’s one of the unlucky ones who got it. He knows he’s a legal adult and can move out, but his feet stay glued inside that house because of her, his mom.

God. Jungkook has seen everything fucked up in the piece of shit he calls his house. The blows his mom would take from the man whose blood Jungkook carries. He wasn’t a father to him, that’s for sure. Screams and fighting are the only things his house is filled with. He never heard a bedtime story or got a good night hug. The hug was replaced by a hit on the cheek, jaw, face—or anywhere his dad could get his hands on.

Jungkook blames his dad for the way he is, and every time he looks at you, he imagines the what ifs. Jungkook has done everything he could do to push you away, but instead of leaving, you stayed. It’s scared the shit out of him.

He’s in love with you. Jungkook has never felt anything more in his life than his love for you—it’s almost pathetic how much you make him feel. If your love were a drug, Jungkook would do it every day, every hour, and every minute instead of all the shit he put in his system to forget.

Your love is pure and innocent—everything that Jungkook isn’t. Every time he looks at you, he’s afraid he will break you. He wishes you could realize how unfixable he is and leave—but instead, you’re on your knees begging for him to be better.

How badly did he want to be better; so he could be with you.

“Stop saying sorry and stop doing it, fuck,” you sob, your fist holding onto his hoodie—your knuckles turning white from fear that if you let him go, he’ll vanish.

“You’re better than this. I know you are,” you cry, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, wetting his hoodie with your tears. “Please stop, you could die.” you beg desperately, like a child would.

“Shh,” he comforts, his hand rubbing your back as you sob into him, “I’m sorry.”

As Jungkook walked, the guilt inside him consumed him more and more. The hurt expression on your face after he disrespected you remained etched in his mind, feeling like someone was poking his heart with a needle with each step he took.

Similarly, the weight of the small bag in the pocket of his sweater sent a sense of panic through his body. He hadn’t planned on taking it, but the moment it was placed in his hand, he couldn’t bring himself to give it back. Instead, he bit his tongue and shoved it into his pocket.

His heart sank as an image flashed in his mind of what your reaction would be if you ever found out. With a shake of his head, he buried the thought deep within him before reaching the main door of his house.

Jungkook’s hand trembles as he holds onto the doorknob. He had nowhere else to go, it was either yours or this. He felt his throat close up as his mind went back to you, his heart screaming for you. To turn around and run back to you—like always, his safe space. The only place where he could let his guard down.

The aching sensation in his chest reminded him of the first time he told you about his dad. You were both seventeen—laying on the carpet of your room, staring up at the ceiling. The broken expression on your face after he confided in you made him feel worse than any hit he had ever taken.

“Did you seriously get into another fight?” you groaned as you examined his face, the purple and blue marks beginning to form twisting your stomach in knots. “Who was it this time?” you frowned, your hand reaching out to touch his bruised cheek.

“Didn’t fight anyone. I actually hit myself with the car door,” the lie flowed smoothly out of his mouth.

“A door?” You raised an eyebrow, not fully believing him. Jungkook had a tendency to throw the first punch after someone lightly touched him—he had more suspensions and run ins with the police than anyone could count. Every time you saw him, there was another bruise decorating his skin, always brushed off like it was no big deal.

“Who was it?” You tried again, your face turning to him.

Jungkook's eyes remained locked with the glow-in-the-dark stars on your ceiling. “I can’t tell you,” he mumbled softly into the darkness.

“Why not? Is it a secret?” You quipped, scooting closer to his side—your finger tracing his features as he let out a deep breath. “It’s a really big secret,” he hushed, to which you only nodded eagerly.

“I can keep a secret,” you smiled, your heart beating fast in your chest as you noticed the proximity between you two. You raised a pinky into the air. “Pinky promise,” you bit your lip anxiously, watching him interlock his pinky with yours. “Okay, now tell me.”

“My dad,” he said, releasing a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“What?” You stuttered out, hoping you had heard him wrong.

“My dad, he's abusive,” he restated. The color drained from your face, and Jungkook saw it.

Sadness written all over your face. Words didn’t come out when you opened your mouth; instead, an ugly cry replaced the words.

“That’s why I can’t stand someone’s hands on me,” Jungkook says, his eyes squeezing shut as he tried to escape the pain in his heart. It felt as if he was being kicked and thrown.

“Fuck.. I always touch you,” you bit your lip, trying to contain your sobs. “Your touch is the only touch that doesn’t repulse me, baby. So if you plan on not touching me, don’t,” Jungkook quickly interjected, grabbing your hand and intertwining it with his.

Jungkook loved your touch; your fingers on his skin felt like heaven. It almost confused him how much he looked forward to it—sometimes he found himself initiating it. You were the only exception with such privilege; anyone else who laid a finger on him sent a sense of nausea and shivers down his body.

“I didn’t know. I’m so fucking sorry, baby. Let me help you.. we can tell the police, he deserves to be in jail. Please,” you sobbed, placing your palm on his cheek.

“You think I don’t know he needs to go to jail? For all I know, he should be put on a electric chair,” Jungkook spat out, shoving your hand away from his face.

“And fuck. Yes, my mom knows. She fucking gets hit too,” he rambled, his chest heaving as he tried to look anywhere in your room that wasn’t you, and for the first time, you saw him break down.

As Jungkook crumbled down with a loud sob, his hands cover his face as his shoulders shake as he weeps, you wasted no time dropping to your knees and pulling him into you, whispering reassuring words in his ear.

"She doesn't leave," he cried. "I keep telling her he's going to kill her if she doesn't leave, but she stays." The cracks in his voice mirrored the cracks in your heart as you listened, feeling the weight of his pain, as the double meaning clicks in your head.

"And I can't leave. Who's going to protect her if I'm not there?" he sobbed quietly, his hands tightening around your waist. "I'm scared that if I leave for too long, I'll come back to a house with a dead body in it," he confessed, sending shivers down your spine.

"Baby," you cooed, tears streaming down your cheeks,

"we should tell the police. They'll help you. I promise."

But his response shattered your hopes.

"No," he croaked out, untangling himself from your embrace.

"Listen to me. If you even think about telling a policeman what I just told you, I swear to god yn, I will never fucking forgive you," Jungkook shook, his face contorted with pain and panic.

"I trust you enough to tell you, but I swear if you say anything about this to anyone, we're done. Whatever the fuck we have, it's done. I will never fucking forgive you."

Jungkook pushes the door open, and he’s met with silence. Without thinking twice, he rushes to his mom's room, slamming the door open to be met with her limp body on the bed.

His heart stops beating, and suddenly everything stops—his hand trembles as he makes his way to her. He nudges her once.

“Mom,” Jungkook calls, only to be met with silence.

“Mom,” he tries again. She stirs in her sleep.

“Jungkook?” She croaks, her voice hoarse as she peeks from her lying position. Jungkook's heart picks up again, letting out a sigh of relief.

“Mom, are you okay? What happened?” Jungkook asks, dropping beside her on the bed. His fingers move her dark hair off her face carefully, revealing a bruise on her cheek.

“He hit you again?” Jungkook lets out a growl, his fist tightening beside him.

“I made him mad. It’s not his fault,” she defends, almost automatically making Jungkook scoff. “Mom, that's not an excuse!” He grits his teeth.

“He isn’t a bad man, Jungkook. He's still your father,” she sighs, the look of tiredness clear on her face as she winces when she moves to her side. Jungkook watches dumbfounded.

“You know, you remind me of him,” she shakes out a laugh, the whole sentence feeling like a punch in the stomach for Jungkook. The more he tries to breathe, the more difficult it becomes. “He was just like you, you know? Every time I look at you—it’s like I’m seeing him. He is a good man underneath it all, Jungkook. You have to understand that I could never leave him. I’m in love with him,” she continues, and every word feels like a hit in the gut.

“W-what do you mean.. I’m just like him?” Jungkook stutters, his throat drying up and the familiar feeling of tears picking up in his eyes have him clawing his nails into his palms.

“Do you think when I met your dad, he treated me wrong?” She finally locks eyes with Jungkook. The light in her eyes she once had is now gone, replaced with dull, tired eyes. “He was gentle with me, he was sweet, caring, he was everything to me. He’s still everything to me,” a tear rolls down her cheek, making Jungkook suck in a breath.

“What about me?” Jungkook's voice cracks, the knot in his throat tightening as he watches his mom shake her head.

“Am I not everything to you, Mom?” Another tear falls, followed by more.

“It’s more complicated than you think, Jungkook,” she sighs. Jungkook feels his heart crack into a million pieces as he watches the woman who brought him into this life discard him.

“He’s going to kill you one day,” Jungkook speaks, wiping the tears from his eyes before clearing his voice. “He’s going to kill you, and you’re going to let it happen.”

“He wouldn’t do that to me,” she whispers into the silence.

“He wouldn’t?” A shocked laugh leaves Jungkook's lips as he can’t believe what he just heard. “He fucking wouldn’t? He fucking hits you? Aren’t you fucking scared that one day he throws the wrong punch?” Jungkook shouts, anger taking over.

“Don’t talk to me like that,” she snaps. “I’m your mother, and you don’t get to fucking talk to me like that.”

“Well, you’re a shitty mother. A good mother would put their child first. The only reason I’m still here is because of you!” Jungkook snaps back, his frustration growing stronger as he watches his mom stay motionless.

“I keep coming back because I’m scared he’ll kill you. But apparently, you don’t give a fuck,” he breathes out, his hand tugging on his hair—feeling almost manic at the lack of his mother's reaction.

“Every hit he took on me, you blamed it on me. When all I did was try to protect you. But you always choose him. So fucking next time he comes in through those doors and has his way with you, don’t come running or yelling my name to come and save you,” Jungkook spits out before walking out of the room and shutting the door behind him with a loud bang.

Jungkook's mind kept racing, never shutting up for a moment, allowing him to think. His brain was filled with repetitions of everything his mom just said. The words "he was just like you, you know? Every time I look at you-it's like I'm seeing him" kept getting repeated in his head over and over again without a break.

Screams of his mom asking for him to save her echoed in his brain, the weight of his guilt and the haunting memories that plagued his mind had Jungkook pulling out the small baggie from his sweater, moving to the small desk in his room.

Jungkook dropped the white powder on the surface, making a line. Without hesitation, Jungkook leaned over, pinching one of his nostrils before snorting.

A sharp burning, stinging sensation spread through Jungkook's nose as he sniffed, rubbing off the remaining powder.

Jungkook dropped onto his bed in a star position as he stared at the ceiling, the feeling of numbness taking over his body. His muscles relaxed as the drug entered his bloodstream, sending a sense of euphoria—a warm feeling spread throughout his body, making him groan in pleasure.

And for once, the voices finally stopped.

It was embarrassing how you found yourself looking for the man you were in love with every corner of the campus. You started with the lockers and hallways, peeking through every classroom, hoping you’d catch a glimpse of the boy who left you standing in your angel costume Saturday night.

You had debated on running after him; the guilt that weighed you down from the slap was intense. Your touch was supposed to be his only gateway, instead, you used it against him to hurt him the same way his dad does. As messed up as his words were, it didn’t compare.

“Have you seen Jungkook?” You ask, poking Dahlia on the shoulder. She turns to look at you, mouth filled with food as she nods without saying anything.

“You have?” Your eyebrow raises as she continues to nod eagerly.

“Y-yeah, he’s ou-outside, in the corner,” Dahlia finally says, swallowing her food. You throw a small ‘thank you’ and rush outside.

As you run to the corner where everybody meets up to smoke, you curse out loud as you trip on the crack of the pavement before changing your pace to walking instead.

Your eyes meet his in an instant as you pass the corner, the lit-up joint hanging from his lips. You look around to see Taehyung and Jimin with worried looks on their faces. As you walk closer to them, Jungkook passes the joint to his friend before crossing his arms in front of him, flexing his muscles. If you weren’t so mad at him, you would find it hot.

“What’s up, pretty,” Taehyung says, trying to break the awkward silence as he takes a hit off the joint before passing it to Jimin, who looks uncomfortable as hell.

“Hey,” you acknowledge them both, giving polite head nods before turning your attention to the boy in the middle, his eyes bloodshot red with a small grin decorating his handsome face.

“What’s so funny?” You snap, crossing your arms in front of you. A loud laugh slips out of his mouth, shocking the boys beside him. “Hi baby,” he says, his eyes dropping low as he moves closer to you. You push him away with a hand on his chest, making him pout.

“Rude,” he playfully scoffs, leaning back onto the wall and reaching for the blunt on Taehyung’s fingers as he raises an eyebrow at you.

“That’s enough,” you say, taking away the joint from Taehyung’s hand as Jungkook was about to reach for it.

“This is our cue to leave. Let’s go,” Taehyung hurries off, pulling on his blonde friends arm, before they both mutter something under their breaths as they disappear around the corner.

“Don’t throw that, it’s some good shit, and I just bought it,” Jungkook chuckles, reaching for it only for you to push him away.

“Alright then,” you pull the rolled-up paper up to your lips and take a drag. Jungkook's face drops, and suddenly nothing is funny. His hand immediately shoots up and yanks the joint out of your mouth before throwing it on the ground and stomping on it.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Jungkook roars, watching you cough loudly as white smoke rushes out of your mouth.

“Fuck, what were you thinking?” He panics, rubbing a hand over your back to coax your coughing fit. Your throat and chest burn as you continue to cough.

“Don’t ever do that shit again, do you hear me? It’s not good for you,” Jungkook sighs, his rough hand drawing circles down your back as you finally calm down.

“So, you agree it’s not good for you?” You say, your voice hoarse from all the coughing. “Let’s not do this right now, yn,” he pulls on your arm as he walks you to the parking lot. “You never want to do anything,” you yank your arm from his grip. Jungkook takes a deep breath, trying his best not to snap at you.

“Just get in the car, baby,” he continues, opening the passenger door for you. Instead, you push him off and slam the door shut.

“You’re high as fuck; you can’t drive, asshole,” you snap, throwing your arms in the air in anger. “And you’re not?” he clenches his teeth. “I took one hit,” you shove a finger in his face.

“Yeah, a big-ass one. Before you know it, you’ll be high, so get in the fucking car or I’ll put you in it myself,” he snaps. “You wouldn’t dare,” you spit out, and before you know it, your ass is in the air as he hauls you over his shoulder.

“I wouldn’t?” Jungkook mutters under his breath as he opens the car door and sits you down on the seat, reaching for the seatbelt and strapping you in. “Where are you taking me?” You roll your eyes as he sits down beside you.

“To your fucking house,” he says, pulling out of the parking lot of the school and driving you home.

The whole car ride is filled with silence; neither of you decides to utter a word. The moment the car stops in front of your house, you hurriedly unbuckle your seatbelt and open your door before sprinting to your door, unlocking it, and disappearing inside. Jungkook almost screams into his hands, wanting to throw a whole tantrum in this car, but he decides otherwise.

With a loud sigh, he turns off the car, turns to the back seat, gets his sweater, and jumps out of the car. He takes the same route he always did when he showed up at your house, climbing himself over the picket fence before climbing the tree next to your window.

The window is opened as you sit on the ground of your room, your knees up to your chest. Jungkook throws his sweater in first before jumping in.

Then his heart dropped, your small hands hold the tiny bag that was in the pocket of his sweater that had fallen out.

“What’s this, Jungkook?” You voice out, and Jungkook doesn’t miss the wavering of your voice as you finally look up at him. His heart might just have been stabbed by your shocked expression, the betrayal and the pain etched in your expressions send a shooting pain in his heart.

“Baby-“

“Don’t fucking baby me! What the fuck is this?” You interrupt him, your hand shaking as you think of every possible drug that could be in the bag. Jungkook didn’t reply; the words suddenly died in his mouth.

“Is this a way of pushing me away?” You ask, tears starting to flow down your cheeks, mixing with your anger and heartbreak.

“Did something happen at home again? Why? Fuck, why?” You cry, a soul-crushing sob that comes out of you, which has Jungkook coming back to his senses. He feels like shit, and that word doesn’t even cover half of what he’s feeling.

“Please tell me why? I’ll do anything. Let me help you, just fucking stop doing this shit, baby.” You cry, pulling his body to yours, wrapping your arms around his waist, crying into his uniform.

“Use me, scream at me, tell me horrible shit if that helps. Just don’t ever touch any drugs, Jungkook. I don’t know what I would do if you died.” You whisper the last words as you sob into his arms, begging for him to stop. “I’m never leaving your side, so get that into your head. If this is your way of pushing me away, it won’t work.” You sob.

And that’s where everything clicks for Jungkook. His mind thinks back to his mom, “You have to understand that I could never leave him. I’m in love with him,” and his heart drops to the ground. All the walls he took so long to build collapse. He was just like his dad—Jungkook wanted to say he wasn’t, but here he was, hurting you, making you sob into his arms, begging for him to change. The same thing his mom does anytime his father would get drunk.

“I’m not good for you,” Jungkook finally speaks, his hands cupping your face. “I’m not good for you.” He repeats, and you shake your head disapprovingly repeatedly. “Stop.” You cry, your tears wetting Jungkook's palms as he repeats the same thing over again.

“You deserve someone so much fucking better, baby,” Jungkook whispers, dropping his forehead to yours. “You deserve so much better than me. I can’t give you anything, baby, besides heartache and pain.” He continues as you repeat ‘no’ over and over again under your breath.

“Please don’t leave me,” you cry, as he untangles himself from you, pushing your hand away gently when you try to reach for him.

“Fuck, Jungkook, don’t leave. Stay the night; we’ll talk about this in the morning.” That was the last thing Jungkook heard as he jumped out of the window and ran to his car, leaving his heart in the hands of the girl crying on the floor, praying for him to be safe.

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minarinnn · 5 months

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“notice me”

luke castellan x aphrodite!reader (pt2 here)

content/trigger warnings: fem! reader, doesn’t follow the plot of tlt!, mentions of smut, sexual tension, manipulation?, groping, reader making luke jealous

a/n: the show has once again sparked up my love for the percy jackson book saga and charlie bushnell has me weakkk ughhh.. i normally don’t write for pjo characters but oh well, lmk if y’all want a continuation of this or just more luke castellan in general ;)

you had always been so used to being the center of attention. as a daughter of aphrodite, you had always been the most popular girl in school, and there was no shortage of boys falling for your charms

arriving at camp half-blood didn change that, nothing was different. except that, for the first time in your life, you found yourself chasing after the attention of a certain boy. luke castellan, the son of hermes and the head counselor of his cabin, he just wouldn’t fawn over you like the others would. despite your best efforts, luke had always remained indifferent to your constant flirting, leaving you feeling frustrated and determined to change his mind

you found yourself spending every waking moment trying to get his attention, trying to find some way to charm him and make him see you the way the other boys did. but no matter how hard you tried, luke remained distant and unimpressed

this week you were extremely busy, you were helping out in the infirmary, one of the apollo kids who usually worked in the infirmary had been sent on a quest and you were asked to fill in until they came back. juggling that with all your other responsibilities as counselor had you beyond occupied

during that week, annabeth barged in with two other guys; percy and luke. apparently their sparring session had gone a little out of hand and they were both injured

luke was already aware of how you’ve been trying to get his attention these past few years. he actually seems to quite like having you, the most fawned over girl at camp, fawning over him instead. he liked the attention you gave him, though he knew that if he ever gave in to your charms you would stop, so he didn’t

he was fully prepared and expected you to be the one to tend to him, so when he sees you head to percy and tend to him while an apollo girl tended to him he was confused

what happened? why would you choose percy over him? we’re you tired of him? did you give up on trying to win him over? luke’s confusion quickly turned to frustration, and he couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy as he watched you tend to percy’s wounds

"how are you feeling, percy?" you asked, giving him a warm smile, one that always had the boys weak in the knees. "n-not great, but i’ll manage" he laughed awkwardly, suddenly nervous. you put your hand on his shoulder, giving it a small squeeze "oh, i’m sure you’ll live”

out of the corner of your eye, you saw luke. he was watching you, watching the way you cared for percy. this was the first time you had ever caught him staring at you with such intensity

so you’re plan was working. you had tried everything to get his attention and you had only one trick left in your arsenal; jealosy. no boy is immune to jealousy, and that was exactly how you were gonna get him

in the end, all you had to do was throw some water at percy and he was good to go. luke though, he had to spend the night in the infirmary

the other apollo kid had left a few minutes ago, something about ‘having other things to do’. so it was just luke and you in the infirmary. you walk over to luke's bed and start tending to his wounds

“oh so now you wanna take care of me? how nice of you” he speaks, sarcasm dripping from his words. “you can tough it out, can't you?" you tease, dabbing away at his cuts with an alcohol-soaked cotton ball. luke is watching you intently and you can feel the tension in the room increasing, his eyes fixated on your hands as you work

luke’s eyes narrow, and you can see the rage boiling beneath the surface. he’s frustrated, jealous, and he doesn't know what to do with all these emotions. you’ve never seen him like this before, and it's a thrill to know that you have the power to make him feel this way

you try to ignore the tense atmosphere in the room, focusing instead on luke's wounds. you finish cleaning and bandaging the cut on his wrist, holding it up to your face to land a soft kiss on the bandages. “all done” you whisper. he tenses at the feeling of your soft lips, and you can see the anger in his eyes. however, you can also see a hint of something else— desire

you look up at him with a smile, knowing that you've got him right where you want him. his eyes are locked on your every movement. you know that you have him wrapped around your finger, and it's a delicious feeling of power

luke’s expression is one of confusion, a mix of rage and desire. he wants you, and he wants to hate you at the same time. it’s a weird combo, but it's working for you.

you lean closer to him, your lips inches away from each other. you can feel his breath on your skin, the heat of his body as he's lying there

"you’re not stopping me" you state, breaking the silence. it’s a quiet, soft whisper, filled with a tiny bit of amusement

"maybe.. maybe i don’t want you to stop" he says, his eyes locked on yours, voice low and husky. you can see the desire building in him, how his gaze trails down to your lips

luke’s breathing quickened, and he could feel his heart pounding in his chest. he knew that this was a game for you, a game where you would always be determined to win him over, but now, in this very moment, he felt like he was losing

he lets out a hiss of frustration, of desire, of... something. he’s sure knows that you're proud of it, but he’s not quite sure what to do about it

you leaned in for the kiss, your lips pressing gently against his, your hand running through his hair. you could feel his body tensing, his hands gripping your waist as he attempted to pull you on top of him

you pull away from the kiss slowly, your lips still pressed to his. luke is still trying to catch his breath, his eyes fixed on yours, searching for any hint of what your next move will be

"not bad" you whisper. "you’re playing a dangerous game here” he chuckles lowly, making your lower regions throb. you smirk softly and brush his hair out of his face “i’ll take my chances”

despite being injured, he pulls you on top of him, making you realize just how hard he’s been this whole time. his eyes are dark, and you can see the lust burning within them

you lean in for another kiss, this one soft and gentle. luke groans when he feels you grind against him, his hands moving down to grab hold of your ass

“i need you s’bad” he mutters out. you smirk as you slide off him, making him furrow his brows in confusion. you land a soft kiss on his cheek. “let’s do this when you’re not injured” you whisper in his ear. now he was alone and hard in the infirmary, how nice

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #luke castellan smut #pjo series #pjo #luke castellan x you #aphrodite #luke x reader #luke smut #pjo x reader #pjo x you #pjo smut #charlie bushnell

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luminiamore · 1 month

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STRETCH.

yoga instructer choso x black man-eater reader

a/n: this is heavily inspired by jennifer’s body (・_・ヾ

also 1000 followers WHATT? (つ✧ω✧)つ

no branding included in this fic actually, so yk what that means. part two in the future asf (ﾉ´ з `)ノ

warnings: murder, reader is a succubus who eats boys & the girls she sleeps with (not choso), reader has fangs, big dick choso, he’s shy, he do be eating ass though, sloppy eater, whiny choso, pussydrunk cho, breeding asf, soft dom choso but like (￣ω￣;) subby, he makes reader submit, just nasty, also frens with satosugu

masterlist

man-eater

Noun

man-eater (plural man-eaters)

An animal that attacks and kills humans for food, such as certain tigers or sharks; any animal that consumes human flesh. quotations

A cannibal; a human that eats other humans. quotations

(by extension, slang) A seductive dangerous woman, often readily taking and discarding male romantic partners.

One thing you loved about the 21st century is that there was never a shortage of people. They were everywhere. Crawling around like little ants and fucking rapidly like rabbits. You never ran out of your source of food, your source of life.

Your species have been around for a long time. You don’t remember how you came to be, but when you first opened your eyes, you were in the center of hot molten rock from the middle of the northwest Pacific Ocean. Tamu Massif, the world’s massive underwater volcano, just 1,600 km east of Japan, was your home.

Your first feeding, your first kill, happened off the coast on the Seychelles beaches about two days after you were awakened. Your brown body was paling by then, but you didn’t know why. At first, you didn’t know what you were, but you knew you were weak and physically unable to move at some point. While still beautiful, your eyes lacked any life in them. You needed energy.

In your defense, they came to you. The wife did, more specifically. You were under the sun a lot; it was the only thing that could at least give you some life. You suspected she and the buff man with her were here as tourists, a honeymoon vacation spot perhaps. But, even after just being introduced to this world, you knew what you preferred. You were selective.

Her husband wasn’t all that interesting to break, but her...

She was gorgeous, downright angelic. And you had such a strong desire to fuck her. And weirdly enough, your mouth started savoring at the thought of eating her.

It seems you hadn’t known just how insatiable you can be, just how powerful you really are. It wasn’t on purpose; you swear it wasn’t. But you know what they say about firsts. She was addicting. How soft she was, how perfect her body fit with yours. She taught you how to feel, how to let go. You were so high on pleasure.

So, you can imagine your distress when you wake up to her unmoving body on top of your naked one. When you shift your eyes to the left, you notice her neck, specifically the missing chunk of it. You lick your lips and immediately grimace at the saltiness. You pushed her body towards your side with a huff.

At first, you felt quite hysterical. You ran toward the mirror and saw something that caused you to gasp.

Was that blood?

Red spots were all over your face, and your mouth area was even more adorned. Your locs are messy, cascading down past your hips. It wasn’t difficult to figure out what occurred while you were intoxicated with pleasure.

Your face is grim as you grasp onto the skin of your forehead, groaning. Flashes start to appear in your mind. A glimpse of her face, body, her pussy. Flashes of you leaning into her neck, flashes of her neck being torn apart, and flashes of her body shaky under your firm hold.

Oh.

After about ten seconds had passed of your staring in the mirror, you accepted that this woman was now dead. You had killed her.

But.. you weren’t overwhelmed by dread. Not upset or guilty that you completely depleted this woman’s life force. A strong feeling coursed through every nook and cranny in your veins, and you felt rejuvenated. The eye bags that had formed beneath your wispy eyelashes were absent, you could tell that much despite the amount of blood splattered on your face.

You had a liking for this feeling. Your strength was apparent, and your skin was brighter and clearer. You experienced such a state of euphoria. And well, you would die if you didn’t get more. Literally and figuratively.

You didn’t make an effort to conceal the body; you felt no need to. You felt compelled to go somewhere, but when you looked in that direction, all you could see was the moving water. You escaped into the ocean at the exact moment, moving as fast as you could away from the small island and following the intense pressure calling out to you.

Since that incident, you’ve stayed in Japan. A black woman with unnatural beauty stalked through the night, undeniably being the center of attention. You were the talk of everywhere you went; people often compared you to a witch, a vampire was the funniest one you’ve heard. You were unusual and feared a little by the public. Although you were beautiful, every step you took was infused with a sense of danger and mystery. Death, even.

It’s common for people who left with you to never be seen again. In the event that they were, they weren’t the same. People had this inexhaustible attraction towards you. They wanted to know more, they tried to discover the secrets you held. But unless you choose them, all people could potentially get out of you was a meaningless glance.

The more you kill, the stronger you become. You became aware of this shortly after your second kill, and you could soon hold off on feeding for weeks if you needed to. Though you’ve grown to realize that you’re superior to a particular breed, you were never the type to go crazy with power. Many of your species, you could tell, were famous and had the most influence on the public.

Take the city’s most well-known billionaires, such as Suguru Geto and Satoru Gojo. Their ownership of many corporations and businesses allowed them to have multiple connections with dangerous parts of Japan, such as the Yakuza. However, they also contribute significant amounts of income to the city annually. Their support of the most popular things in the population was indisputable, making it impossible not to like them. It wasn’t because they wanted to; they weren’t that generous, but because they loved power.

Passing them on your stroll, you could tell they were similar to you. Their scent was unlike that of humans, and their energy and absolute pheromones were ridiculous. They were looking for prey that night, you could tell by how potent it was. And perhaps if you were human, you would have fallen for their charm when they called out for you.

They had plans to make you their meal for the night, but unfortunately, their hypnotic effect on humans didn’t work on you. That’s when they realized that you were like them, and well, they were both amused.

“Aw, how cute,”

“Bet you would’ve tasted real good too.”

To this day, you don’t know if Suguru was talking about eating you or your pussy. Even so, you became a close friend of the pair from that moment forward. There were days when they would pop up to your apartment unannounced and grace you with their antics. It was more of a domestic setting, not sexual, but they enjoyed being around someone who deeply understood them.

Today was one of those days. Your peaceful nap ended when they entered your bedroom and plopped down on your bed, discussing the last feeding they had. Satoru’s voice reaches an enthusiastic pitch,

“She was so bendy, Suguru! She bent over backwards, and she was still taking my dick,”

The long-haired man shifts his eyes carelessly towards his best friend, who is resting on your thighs and intensely focused on something on his phone. You were oblivious to the words spewed out by Satoru, fighting against the sleep you had gotten before they arrived. The latter raises a brow,

“Hmm,”

“She told me she takes something called yoga classes? It’s a shame she’s dead now, she was fu- Wait! Hey, Y/n?”

Your response is a hum as he shifts his head to your face and speaks with a sly smile on his lips,

“Do you take yoga classes?”

You were not very fond of modern activities, so you rarely indulged in them. You rarely attempt to learn about human life and what they do for fun or work due to that knowledge. Their values never weighed down on you, and as a result, you lived a peaceful life. When you glanced down at piercing ice eyes, the confusion was evident on your face,

“What’s..yoga?”

Suguru gave a response instead, knowing that Satoru would give you a misleading description of the exercise,

“It’s just an activity humans do to calm the mind and stretch the body.”

“I see. Does it bring pleasure?”

“Maybe, they seem to be very satisfied afterwards.”

You twist your head in thought, interesting. Satoru pokes at your shoulder, and when you glance down, he shows you his phone screen. Plentiful pictures of women in various positions, very flexible..positions. Was she holding herself up on her forearms?

“Where can I find this? I’d like to.. learn.” Your own words caused you to startle yourself, and now you’re completely awake.

Since when?

You hear a breathy laugh coming from beneath you. “Oh yeah? Didn’t peg you as the type to like playing with your food.” His fingers move to find the nearest yoga studio by your building, despite his taunting, and he feels internally happy when he discovers it’s one he knows.

You flick his head, giggling while he grunts a bit. “It’s interesting. I didn’t know the body could shape itself like that.” In all honesty, he presented you with some pictures that made you grimace a little.

“There’s a place called Kamo’s Zen Sanctuary a few blocks from here. Of course, Suguru and I are friends with the owner.”

The mentioned man hums in assurance,

“We can send a car to take you tomorrow afternoon if you’re up for it.” He wiggles his brows as he waits for your response.

As always, they kept their word without fail. Before the car arrived the next day, a large package was delivered to your door with a flimsy note that said, ‘You’re welcome.’

It’s probable that you only needed one yoga set, but your friends wanted to give you a wide array of choices to pick from. Ultimately, you opted for a lightweight black set. When you looked in the mirror, you really saw how the clothing accentuated your body, especially your ass. Oh, you liked this.

Stopping outside the studio, your mind suddenly became well aware that you didn’t know how human establishments operated. You took pleasure in the decorative pieces that this place had. Cold air, a Buddha statue spilling water steadily in a bowl, and soothing violin music immediately welcomed you upon arrival.

Despite not being familiar with the environment, you still entered it with grace. You would have left if it weren’t for the tall, handsome gentleman who sneaked up on you from behind. His silent demeanor made it impossible to hear him, and when you saw his face, you indeed weren’t disappointed.

“Do you need help, miss?”

Smooth was how his words came across. When you faced him, his face was smooth, too. Your body vibrated, your fingertips were slightly twitching, and your mind was reeling in the fact that you were suddenly very, very hungry. Although it’s been a week since you last had anything to eat, you’ve already found your next prey.

Him. The quite pale man with a pair of beautiful, solemn eyes. The dark line across his face is a perfect fit for him, and it’s hard not to notice. His plum lips are almost puckered, but they look so soft you want to sink your teeth into them. You want him.

You eye his exposed biceps in the black shirt clinging onto his pale skin, “Yes, I want to learn yoga. How can I?”

Even as his ears flush, he maintains a steady tone and unbothered expression when addressing you, barely making eye contact, “I can get you started with that. My name is Choso. I’m an instructor here. Come with me, miss.”

You nodded without reason because the man had already turned and started walking to a different room. You’re staring at him, more so the way his muscles ripple with every step he takes. There’s an intangible desire on your part to fuck this man, bite every inch of his body until he was withering in pleasure.

Choso seemed shy, but you liked that he was nervous and fidgety around you as you faced him in a larger room with a mirror covering both ends. There were no lights on, only candles surrounding the black walls. The echo from the fish swimming in the small pond could be heard throughout the space.

His back could be seen through the clear glass. As you looked around, you also noticed red mats and..blocks? This place was strange. You lick your lips when he speaks again,

“This is where we do the practice. I sense that you’re new to this. Do you want to start with a small stretch first?” His hand reaches behind him to pick up a thin mat, his low purple eyes flickering between the object and you.

“Of course, Choso.”

Choso has a sweet scent, almost like a bakery. The moment you walked inside, his scent infiltrated your nostrils. The sheer proximity of his body when he guided you into what he said was the downward dog position made you feel like you were floating. You felt hot, even on fire, when he touched you. The fabric you wore was so tightly held onto your body that it felt like he was touching your bare skin.

He was exerting pressure on your lower thighs, making them conform to the position. When you glanced in the mirror, he seemed so focused on what he was doing. You swear your pussy had a heartbeat. His gaze catches yours,

“Head down, miss.”

You listen wordlessly, your locs making small thumping sounds when they hit the red surface. Maybe Choso could feel the heat and craving radiating off of your body. Maybe he couldn’t. It’s impossible to read his thoughts, no matter which way you look at it. His face remains blank after he says ‘good job’ for maintaining the position after a minute. If he can feel your body heating up like you can, his expression doesn’t make it known.

His body, however, does. More so, how red he gets, as if he’s heating up too as if he’s experiencing the same shit you are. Could he be?

Choso tells you about the next position he’s going to put you in,

“You’re a little tense on your outer hips, so we’re gonna do something called the Pigeon pose.”

You’re almost about to ask, ‘What’s that?’ but he shows you before you can even part your lips. Your right leg is flat against the floor, twisted in front of you almost perfectly, while your left leg elongates towards the back. Choso observes the difficulty of your arms in holding you up, so he goes in front of you to help. The firmness of his hands on your hips reflects his strength, especially when he presses down slightly to stretch the area.

“It’s okay. Your legs are supporting you. You can relax a bit.” Can you, though? With the way, he’s pressing on an area that’s suddenly very sore to you. His voice is scratching some primal part of your brain. You think it’s impossible.

“Am I supposed to be doing something while in this position?” You intentionally lower your voice to make him look at you. He does, just not in the way you want. That stupid, blank expression is still on his face. You rub your lower body on the mat, shivering a little as it barely touches your clit through the fabric.

“You’re supposed to breathe. Just be.” He speaks softly against your face. You were fond of his closeness, the sensation of his breath being directly on your skin.

“When will this feel pleasurable?” You exhale. You honestly weren’t seeing any interest in human activities again. You were only getting a slight burn on your legs, and that was due to the grip Choso still had on you.

You don’t know what it is you said, but you watch Choso intensely. You can see his eyes widen for a split second before returning to their original state.

“Pleasurable? You came here.. for pleasure?”

There was a slight hiccup in his voice at the end of his question. You got him, you think. It shouldn’t be much to get him under you now. He taps his long fingers on your hip twice twice in an attempt to make you shift to the other leg, causing you to jump.

A wince escapes your lips as he releases his grip on you, “I hear that this practice can give that. Is it true?”

You finally caught Choso’s eye on you. In fact, his gaze remains on you even after he observes your body shift its position. You believe that you like his eyes on you. He lowers himself to your level to help you still your body.

“I suppose it depends on what kind of pleasure you’re looking for, miss.”

You hum softly as you breathe him in once more today when his palms rest against you once again. What did he mean by that?

You reply, but your gaze never leaves his, “What kind of pleasure can you give me, Choso?”

Choso was quiet, reserved from the public, and honestly tried his best to avoid any eye contact with you during your entire time in his studio. But he only has so much self-control, as did you. The only conversation was a series of intense squelching sounds as Choso sucked on your pink bud obscenely.

“Oh fuck- Just like that, Cho!”

He moaned fervently against your brown lips, pulling your hips against his face and keeping your cheeks apart with his large grip. You were on your knees, back shaped into a perfect arch. He was not letting go, squeezing his tongue down your wet pussy lips. Your body shakes as his tongue licks a stripe through your folds, circles all over your puckered hole, and drool slips onto the thin mat.

“Ah-!”

Your cries made Choso even more red in the ears. He thought he was pretty dull, not exciting or engaging to talk to. He didn’t pay much attention to his looks, girls always found him too.. weird. It wasn’t something he expected to happen on his day. He knew who you were before you came in, Satoru had the pleasure of letting him know you were on your way. But the minute you came into his place of work, he found it very hard to resist you. That’s why he didn’t make any eye contact.

The truth is, Choso was deeply attracted to you and found it terrifying.

Choso’s pretty head was puzzled by the fact that he was responsible for the angelic sounds that emerged from your plump lips. He couldn’t fathom that he was on his knees licking the most sensitive parts of your body. But, he welcomed it, letting himself sink into the essence of you with a feeling of overwhelming desperation.

“Want more. Come on, miss. Give m-me more, please.”

How much more can you give him? He already has his face deep inside of you. You understand what he is trying to say when he inserts two fingers into your wet mound, dragging them in and out and carefully grazing the spongy spot that makes you thrash around. You immediately clench at the intrusion, feeling the overwhelming pleasure burn in the pit of your stomach.

Choso is eager to pay attention to all parts of you but doesn’t know where to focus. Every part of you tastes so celestial, he wanted you to give him everything at the same time. His finger-fucking is swift, and your mind is entirely absent when the man pushes his tongue into and out of your ass simultaneously. Choso was so turned on that his precum was making a stain on his shorts from how much he was leaking.

His moans vibrated against your lower lips, and you swore in all your existence that you had never been eaten so nasty like this. He was going to make you cum so fast that you couldn’t even be mad about it.

He can feel it. The fatness of your pussy is pressing against Choso’s two big fingers, forcing him to use more strength to maintain his rapid pace. Your wetness creates a beautiful clear puddle under his attack, and he can feel it. Could you also do that on his dick? Milk his cock over and over and over again until he couldn’t cum anymore? Choso has been an atheist his entire life, but he almost prayed for this one favor.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Ouuu fuck! I’m g-gonna-”

The man doesn’t respond at first, only presses into your G-spot harder and more forcefully, as if he has a point to prove. He circles at your clit, wrapping the twitching bud around his lips, and sucks hard. What does it for you is the drunk whispers vibrating against your core of ‘Please, give it to me. Just cum. Fuck, it’s so wet.’

Your stomach tightens, your hands grip the carpeted floor in front of you, and your mouth releases pornographic moaning as cream pours out of you and onto his waiting tongue. Choso is clamoring for your taste, and as a result, he moans out with you. You have a strong desire for him, but for some inexplicable reason, your body is unwilling to eat him. Instead, you never wanted to fuck a person so badly in your life.

Choso’s close proximity makes him ignore your little whimpers while rubbing his blushing, leaking tip up and down your sloppy cunt. When did he even pull his dick out?

“Bet it’s so w-warm inside. Ah-” When his flushed tip accidentally slips in, and he gets a taste of the warmth you bring, his breathy voice cracks. You’re whining now. Pushing back on Choso, sucking his wide cock in your greedy hole, feeling impatient to force him down far enough to rip your pussy.

Choso has the most beautiful moans you’ve ever heard. His voice is deep, but his tone gets so high in pitch when he’s like this. It’s so whiny it makes you cream. Literally. His voice cracks, just like his resolve does when you slide all 7.8 inches of him in so that your hips are flush against his pelvis. The feeling of his dick inside of you is so good that you’re so close to begging.

He thought he could have some self-control, but he barely kept it together when he was just eating you out. Your drooling pussy convulsing and contracting against Choso, against his cock, is a sign that his soul has reached a part of heaven. He couldn’t stop himself, really. He couldn’t do anything but relentlessly fuck you at an inhuman pace.

“So good. So good. Pussy’s so fucking-” He cuts himself off with a loud groan when he witnesses your soft brown cheeks being spread apart for him, revealing a magnificent view of your pussy being stretched beyond their limits. Giving him a beautiful view of your messy pussy creaming the more his dick repeatedly punches your g-spot again and again and again.

You’re wailing. You’re trying to find something to hold onto that can bring your mind back to reality. Choso makes it so hard. He is becoming more and more clingy to your liquids, and his hips are vibrating violently against yours, making you believe he might be bruising your cervix. You love it. You love every speck of pleasure flowing and rippling through your body. You love everything he’s giving your body at this moment.

“I-I know what you- Oh fuck. W-what you are,”

Huh?

The thought is almost pushed out of your head when he angles his hips to get deeper inside of you. Wet and dirty sounds of his balls hitting your clit are filling the air of the stretch room. Choso is rambling now. Your pretty pussy’s attempt to milk his cock until there was nothing is making him feel delirious. It just feels so good, so safe, so wet. God, you were so fucking wet for him. He continues his fucked out declaration,

“A-And I can tell y-you don’t like c-commitment, but please. Please let me k-keep you satisfied for all e-eternity.” His rough and insatiable pounding sends your mind to distant places while he pleads.

With whatever coherent part of your brain is still there, you cower away at the proposition. Shaking your head rapidly in a ‘no’ motion. His harsh thrusts are practically felt in your womb, pushing your hips away when you scramble to grab something stable to hold you on the floor.

Of course, Choso doesn’t let you run away like that. He quickly brings your waist back against him, making sure that his cock is nestled in the deepest parts of your warmth for a moment before starting to thrust again. You’re forced to take it all, and he doesn’t even need to say a word to prevent you from trying that shit again.

Still, you whimper out,

“Chooo baby, I can’t- Ahhh! Can’t l-let you do that.”

Choso only frowns at the evident lie on your lips and pushes your entire body harder onto the mat. A loud gasp escapes your lips when you unexpectedly squirt all over the thin object due to the sudden pressure you feel on your cervix. He was so deep.

Choso doesn’t slow down; he only moans with staggering moans when your pussy sprays its juices on him. In fact, he goes faster.

“P-Please, miss. I can make you feel this g-good whenever you want. I can- Fuckk. I promise I c-can always fuck you deep like t-this. I’ll worship you. I’d do anything you- anything you ask, just please. L-Let me.”

It seems that Choso understood precisely what you needed, a bit of prodding and persuading. He’s sure that if someone happens to walk into the lobby, they’ll hear exactly what’s going on due to the loud squelching you both are making. But why does he want that? Why does he want everyone to know that he is the one making you cry out so pretty as if he were your god? Despite your brief resolve, you give the handsome man exactly what he asks. You.

“Yes! Oh fuck yes! M’all yours, Cho! M’cumming- Shit. Shit. Shit. I’m-”

The sounds you both made at the same time were too much for your lovemaking to drown out. With your dam breaking, your pussy twitching open and closed, and your tight pussy covering his heavy cock with splashes of clear liquid and your sweet, sweet cream, Choso gets a taste of heaven. He cums with you. His hand grips the sides of your hips so hard, even through your dark skin, that it might leave bruises. Your perfect pussy squeezing a heavy load out of the man so much that he was shaking when he felt it overfill your cunt. Fuck, you’re too much.

Heavy breathing and a light pap sound coming from his cum dripping out of your poor pussy could barely be heard by both of you. Choso was in such a headspace that his mind needed to take a breather to gather what the fuck he was going to say to you in a few minutes, his dick softening inside you. You were feeling the after-effects of being fucked so good, buzzing in your right ear, spasming on a cock that’s still buried deep inside of you, and aches on your lower body.

You start to pull off of him, thinking that’s what he wants, but he immediately grabs your hips and keeps you still, still not getting over the euphoric feeling of your pussy on him. Choso realizes something, and at this moment, he feels the most embarrassed he has ever felt. He managed to get a girl's commitment without even knowing her name.

“Um.. miss?”

You barely let out a whisper, “Yes, Cho?”

“… What’s your name?”

There’s a beat of silence. Please don’t hate me. Please don’t hate me. Please don’t hate me. Choso is pleading that you won’t hate him.

His thoughts were disrupted by a melodic laugh and a honey voice, “It’s Y/n, cutie.”

Y/n? He finds that name so.. pretty. Almost as pretty as your body. Almost as pretty as the sight of your tight pussy creaming up and-

Well, now he’s hard again. You won’t mind if he pleases you a little more, right? After all, he made a promise, and Choso is never known for breaking his promises.

@hatake05

@thickbihhwitdagapp

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the-peak-tmnt · 3 months

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Hey The Neon Void readers, quick update from the author's sister!

(art commission by @kaysdenofchaos)

Hi readers of The Neon Void fanfic. This is the author’s older sister. She’s been getting a lot of fan art and asks lately. She’s sent me screenshots of a few unanswered ones looking for advice on how to respond.

While all the love and support of TNV is genuinely appreciated, my sister @sugarpasteltmnt is not equipped to respond to a small handful of these asks/comments that are, quite frankly, inappropriate.

Sugarpastels is not a therapist, and she’s certainly not an internet stranger’s therapist.

She’s an adult with an extremely demanding and stressful job for a very large client. Some of you have already experienced and enjoyed her work IRL without knowing it. Her company is close to finishing another project that will bring a lot of joy to hundreds of thousands of people every year, but working on a project of that scale is extremely stressful.

She is writing this fanfic for fun. TNV is a way for her to decompress and put her creative energy towards something other than work.

What’s not fun is coming home to asks/comments from readers who are projecting their own struggles/mental health onto TNV, and even Sugarpastels herself, and demanding some sort of attention from her over it.

Let’s be real: it’s fun to watch our blorbos suffer! So much of fandom is just us putting our favorite characters in Situations because it’s fun. Simple as that. But I think another reason TNV has resonated so strongly with readers is because of the way Sugarpastels writes the internal struggles of these characters.

We are both aware that TNV deals with mental health topics. Since the early days of “modern” fandom, fanfiction has been a way for people to explore complicated, difficult and sometimes even taboo subjects. There’s no shortage of complex feelings being explored in TNV, which is why we’re all having so much fun reading it.

But that’s all it is; an exploration. Sugarpastels is not a mental health expert. I’ve read a handful of books on PTSD and mindfulness for research while writing my own fanfic, and I would never consider myself prepared to help someone else.

It’s okay if you relate to things from TNV. I know I do! Again, fanfic has always been a way to read about things rarely dealt with (or handled poorly) in published fiction/tv shows/movies. I will always argue one of the greatest things about fanfiction and other fanworks is being able to see ourselves and our own struggles through our favorite fictional characters.

But Sugarpastels is not a fictional character. She’s a real person. Most importantly (to me at least) she’s my little sister, and this big sister cannot handle watching some of her readers expect more of her than is appropriate.

So I’m asking you to please be mindful of what you ask/say to not just her, but literally everyone on the internet. Unless you’re chatting with someone regularly, they do not know you. Whether it’s friends, family, teachers, coaches, etc, there are people in your life who know you personally, and are therefore better equipped to help you than a stranger on the internet.

Sugarpastels is so full of empathy that it’s hard to not feel for you when you send things like this. But it just isn’t fair to put that kind of unnecessary pressure on someone who is, at the end of the day, just trying to have some fun writing about ninja turtles bein’ sad.

(That being said, PLEASE DON’T BE SCARED TO SEND HER ASKS AND FAN ART!!! They make her day every single time and are seriously so, so appreciated. She’s texting me about it constantly how much she loves all of TNV’s readers. This whole post is really directed at an extremely small percentage of her readers, but there have been enough I felt something needed to be said.)

#ok back to writing about sad turtles!#tmnt #the neon void #the neon void fic #the neon void tmnt #tmnt fanfiction #tmnt fanfic #tmnt fic

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cerridwen007 · 4 months

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Hard pill to swallow.

*pics above are from pinterest and are used for aesthetics only.

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Word count: 2.4k (18+) MINORS DNI!

Summary: Joel helps you fix your problem with swallowing pills.

Notes/Warnings: Smut, Fluff, Soft!Joel vibes, lowkey daddy Joel vibes too, Joel being a teasing, filthy mouthed menace because I said so, mentions of pills (vitamins and hayfever), mentions of gagging/gag reflex, Joel lifts reader, but Joel is huge and hella strong so he can lift anyone, cumplay, oral (m receiving), finger sucking, praise/ nicknames, swearing, no y/n.

A/N: Disclosure, this is fully self indulgent and based on my struggle with swallowing pills and me wanting Joel Miller's dick in my mouth all waking hours. Was meant to post this before Valentines, but time got the best of me. But I suppose you can consider this my Valentines present from me to you, even though it's not related to valentines at all. I swear this is the second time that writing about my struggles in a fic with Joel, it’s pretty much solved them. He is truly that man. Quickly edited, as always, so sorry if there are any mistakes. Anyways, enough babbling, I hope y'all enjoy, and any interactions with posts are very much appreciated, and I love yall so much. Have a good day bebes. 🫶❤️

*********

You were embarrassed, to say the least, and annoyed and frustrated. For all of your life, you could never do that one thing that was a simple skill for most people, a simple and usually essential at that. You couldn't swallow pills for the life of you. Many frustrated mornings, well into your early adult years, were spent at the breakfast table with your parents, growing more and more impatient and irritated at your ‘talent’ for not being able to swallow pills no matter how hard you tried. And It's not like you didn't want to swallow pills. No, not at all.

In fact you wish you could, it would have made your life a hell of lot easier. You would take swallowing pills over having to grind up the assorted pills for hayfever and vitamins into your drink and being forced to intigest the horrible tasting yet beneficial substances, the ones that made your eyes water and your stomach gurgle with just how bad they tasted.

And trust me you had tried everything, sticking the pill right down your throat, damn near breaking your neck with the force you tilted your head back (to catch your gag reflex “off guard”) nearly watering boarding yourself a couple times, thinking the more water you swallow the easier right? You felt like the oblong white tablets were just ridiculing you at this point.

You had achieved so much in your life yet you were brought down by your inability to swallow a tiny little thing for your benefit. You had not managed to find a shortage of adults and family members alike telling you, “it's all in your head” and suggesting unwarranted advice. Advice you ended up trying over and over again, knowing it wouldn't work. “It's just like swallowing food” they would say. But you knew damn right it wasn't. I mean you couldn't even swallow gum, so how were you supposed to swallow this?!

Because of all these judgemental looks and passive aggressive comments when it came up in conversation that you couldn't swallow pills, you tended to avoid the topic of conversation completely. It wasn't till a handsome man named Joel Miller came into your life, did you finally manage feel comfortable and unjudged about your inability.

It had been a while that the two of you had been dating, nearly a year and you had never felt happier. Recently you had moved into his place and had just unfinished packing. It was a peaceful morning in Joel’s and now your own house, the morning sun shining down, warming up the frosted green grass as the birds chirps and, the smell of fresh brewed coffee filled your nostrils. The two of you sat opposite each other, drinking in the peaceful morning. This movie-like paradise was soon brought down in mood as you remembered it was time to take your daily vitamins and tablets.

You sighed, a frown growing on your face as you anticipated yet another painful morning attempting to swallow some tablets. Joel's face mimics yours when he looks over at you from across the breakfast table.

“What’s wrong baby?” He asked, concerned.

You sigh before explaining yourself.

“I just..I just suck at swallowing pills and I almost always end up having to crush them into a drink or whatever I'm eating and then it's disgusting. I know I'm an adult, I should be able to swallow them by now but I just can’t.”

You try to blink away the tears from frustration as you talk, not wanting Joel to see you get so upset over something so little and stupid.

He listens with a soft frown on his face and you half expect him to scoff at you and belittle you for not being able to do something so easy. Then he locks eyes with you and sees your watery eyes and instantly his face softens.

“Aww baby, come here.” He holds out his arms and you quickly get up walking round the table to straddle his lap, burying your face into his shoulder, seeking his warming embrace to comfort you. You look up at him, when you feel the tears aren't going to spill out.

“You're not making fun of me or think that I'm being a baby?”

He cups your face, forcing you to keep his warm gaze. “Now what would make you think that I thought that darling?” He questions.

You feel your throat constricting as you try to explain yourself, cheeks growing hot with embarrassment.

“I don't know…I just thought maybe before… you were frowning cause you don’t believe me or something.” You softly respond, embarrassed over the state you're in all over some silly little pills.

“Sweetheart of course I believe ya. I was frowning cause I hate to see my girl upset and struggling, and I was trying to think of some way to help ya.”

You sigh with relief, before resting your head back on Joel's shoulder, you sit there holding each other for a while before you're interrupted by the soft rocking back and forth of Joel's chest as he tries to quietly chuckle underneath you.

“What’s so funny.” You ask, feeling a little irritated.

“Oh, nothing.” He responds, still with a wide grin.

“No, tell me.” You say, pouting.

He clears his throat and before he speaks in a dark tone, close to your ear sending shivers all throughout your body.

“Just thought of how good of a girl you are when you suck my dick, and how you don’t seem to have a problem swallowing my cum, do ya honey?”

Your eyes widen with the sudden lewd topic of conversation, your cheeks heat up and you lightly slap his chest.

“Joel!” you warn him, but you can't help but let the corners of your mouth lift up a little.

“That's different though.” You say quietly after a beat.

“Oh yeah? Why's that?” His eyes pierced through you, waiting for your answer.

You feel your cunt fluttering at his question, your panties dampening.

“Cause…cause I actually want to swallow your cum.” You softly admit.

He breathes in shakily as a growl-like sound softly rips through his chest. His head falls back and he slowly grinds up into your needy clothed cunt.

“My dirty little cum slut, aren't you baby?” He groans as he cups your face with his hand.

You nod and he puts his thumb on your bottom lip, slowly dragging it downwards. Your tongue shoots out to lick it before your head dips it to take it into your mouth. You start sucking on it, needily. Needing to have some part of Joel in you.

“Needy too, apparently. Just how I like ya.” He murmurs to mostly himself as he pushes his fingers in deeper and pushes down on your tongue.

Your cunt is throbbing now, but the only thing you can think of right now is taking Joel’s fat cock into your mouth. You try and tell Joel as his thick fingers are stuffed in your mouth, so it ends up coming out as a garbled mess.

“What was that baby?” Joel teases you.

“W-wanna sl-suck your c-cock d-Joel.”

“Can’t get enough of this fat dick down your throat can you sweetheart?” Joel growls as he removes his fingers.

You shake your head, your hands trailing over Joel's strong chest and biceps. You suck on the spot on his neck that drives him crazy, his hips start lightly thrusting up into you as a result. You grin devilishly, seeing and feeling Joel become a vulnerable mess, under your control is one of your favourite sights in the world.

You slowly make your way down Joel's body, feeling and touching on every part of him that you can, except where you and him both want too most. When your knees finally hit the floor, you look up at him with an innocent smile. Although Joel knows your the exact opposite, he can’t help his breath stuttering and his heart racing at the stunning sight below him.

You bite your lip as you look to Joel belt, his prominent bulge just below it, silently asking for permission. He nods, spreading his legs wider. You place your hands on his knees and slowly trace your hand over his legs up to his hips, your eyes switching between looking up at Joel and his bulge that has your mouth watering.

You unbuckle his belt, slowly, loving to tease him. But taking your time and going slow seems to make you more impatient than Joel himself, so you make quick work of unzipping his jeans and shucking them down his thick thighs, while your mouth waters. You swallow harshly, as you uncover Joel's thick and rock-hard package perfectly framed by his black boxers.

Reaching below his elastic waistband to pull out his cock, you find yourself transfixed once again by his beautiful cock, tip flush dark red, shaft slightly curling upwards as it heavily bobs, just begging to be sucked. Your tongue darts out to slicken your lips. Your hand carefully grasps his length, Joel softly gasps, before your thumb traces over his slit and the white drop of precum, oozing out of it.

You grin as you lower your head, placing a few teasing kisses around his head before you raise his cock up high enough that you can lick from between his balls all the way up to his slit. He shudders above you, his hand gently caressing your hair, grounding himself and connecting himself more to you, as if his dick in your mouth isn't enough.

You let your saliva gather to the front of your mouth before slightly parting your lips to let the warm glob drip onto his flesh. You see his thighs flex from the corner of your eye as your palm encases him, spreading your moisture all over the veiny muscle. Starting out with slow hard strokes, and building it up faster, your hand struggles to meet around his girth.

Your mouth finally latches onto his tip, tongue swirling around the bulbous head, making Joel groan deeply. You help unleash even more depraved sounds from deep in Joel's chest when your other hand reaches out to massage his hefty balls. All this encompassing stimulation has Joel racing towards the edge, his mouth spewing out dirty words and praises as he comes oh so close to his high.

“Ugh. Fuck yeah. Atta girl.”

“Just like that baby. F-fuck me that feels g-good.”

“Fuck… I love the feel of your hot, wet mouth on my cock.”

“Going to make my heart go out on me, with how fucking heavenly your making me feel, baby.”

He clenches the muscles in his body as he tries to starve off his release long as possible, needing to tell you something first.

“Sweetheart, look at me. I-I’m going to need you to hold all my cum in your mouth baby when I finish-h. C-can you do that for me s-sweet girl?” He chokes out.

You nod slightly and moan around him, before returning to bobbing wildly on his pulsing cock. Loving the salty, musky taste of him, your pussy clenches thinking about the even more salty and delicious load soon to be filling your mouth.

You take him as deep he will go, your eyes tearing up as your throat constricts around him. You feel his balls tighten under your hand and you let his cock out ever so slightly so only his tip is encased by your stretched lips.

And before you know it Joel’s coming, a long string of curse words and moans pouring out his mouth as he does so. Your hand continues to stroke him, milking him for all he's worth. Till he is hissing through his teeth, his now spent cock sensitive and raw.

The urge to swallow his spend is strong, but your need to listen to and please Joel stands stronger. You keep it all in your mouth, cheeks bulging out a little with how full they are.

Joel, still breathing heavily, bends over you so he can inspect your warming checks and watery eyes, you look completely wrecked and he loves it. He hums in delight seeing you patiently sitting beneath him waiting for his next instruction.

He reaches over the table to where you were sitting before leaning down closer to you again. His thumb and forefinger reaches out and takes a hold of your chin, tilting it a bit higher.

“Did so good for me sweet girl, but I need you to do one more thing for me, okay?” He whispers, his warm and inviting eyes making you melt further into the floor.

You nod in response, watching his other hand come down in front of your face, opening up to reveal your pills. He softly demands you to open your mouth, to which you oblige, before carefully placing the few pills into your cum filled mouth.

He tilts up chin so your mouth closes and seals your lips with his thumb, before moving his hand to the side of your jaw, rubbing soft circles over your cheekbone.

“Okay, I'm going to need you to be a good girl and swallow that for me.”

You give the best soft smile you can muster with a mouth full of cum before you begin to swallow Joel’s cum in small amounts, your eyes fluttering close in concentration.

“That's it…. Good girl. Swallow it all, baby. Don’t wanna waste a drop do ya now?” He encourages you, eyes transfixed to your throat swallowing all of his cum and the pills.

The pills going down so easily you didn't feel them shocks you, as you open your eyes to a smiling, starry-eyed Joel looking down at you softly. A wide smile mimicking his, spreads over your face, before you open your mouth to reveal it, now empty, to Joel.

He reaches down to pick you up from your armpits, placing you on his lap again. You giggle as he places lots of kisses all over your face and nuzzles his nose into yours.

“I’m so proud of you my sweet, darling girl. Did so good.”

“Thank you, Joel.” You coo back, sighing softly with relief and happiness over your achievement.

“Guess we know now how to get you to swallow your pills every morning, don't we baby?” Joel teases you, holding you close to his chest as he kisses your temple.

“Indeed we do.” You reply, giggling, before resting your head on Joel's warm and sturdy chest, basking in the love and warmth of your lover.

***********

#joel miller smut #joel miller #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal characters #smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel x reader #tlou fanfiction

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dilemmaontwolegs · 1 year

Text

Story Time || LN4 & MV1

Random blurb that popped into my head. Lando Norris x Fem!reader, platonic!max verstappen x bestfriend!reader

Max was streaming with his Redline Team as he usually did when it wasn’t race week. You had received the notification that he had gone live on Twitch and grabbed Lando’s laptop from beside the bed to log in and watch it.

“Okay, I have another story you might enjoy.”

Lando chuckled as he entered the room with the cups of tea he had gone to make. “His stories are the best.”

There was never a shortage of stories from Max and you were lucky to have witnessed them for a large portion of your life. You had known Max since you were young and it was through him that you met Lando.

Your boyfriend handed you the mug that he had given you for Valentine’s Day last year: a big red heart that had his LN4 symbol in the middle. It still amused you that his gift was really for himself and you happily drank from it every day.

“He can hardly keep a straight face,” you said as you pointed to Max’s video feed. “It has to be a good one.”

“So I got a call last week from my good friend, Y/N.” Max had to stop to take a sip of his red Bull as he was laughing too much. “She was on a date with Lando, still don’t know how that happened but that’s another story, and they went to dinner in Florence. Lovely, right. One thing about Lando and Y/N, their Italian is absolutely terrible.”

“I’m already offended,” you said as you grabbed your phone.

“Oh, she’s watching the stream!” Max laughed as he read the text message you had sent him and he held it up to the screen for a second. “It says, ‘eighteen years of friendship and you settle on good? I’m insulted. Sincerely, your ex-best friend and current good friend.’ I think I’ve hurt her feelings. I’m sorry, I love you.

“Anyway, my good friend, she sends me a photo of her meal and immediately calls me. ‘Like what the fuck is this? I asked for pasta.’ Blah, blah, blah. Turns out she ordered a bean salad. She’s too embarrassed to admit she messed up so she eats the salad, she fucking hates salads, and then orders dessert.

“I get another picture and phone call soon after and she’s absolutely fuming because she received another bean salad.”

Lando was in hysterics beside you as he relived the disastrous date and he put his mug down before more tea spilled over the bedspread. “I’m sorry, baby, but it was funny.”

The chat down the side of the live stream was already getting bombarded with information you could have done with last weekend.

@/tifosi1: Cannelloni = Pasta @/vinividivici: Cannellini = Beans @/verstap1: Cannoli = Dessert

“We’ll have to see if she shows up to Monza, because she swore she would never step foot in Italy again.”

You fired another text through and he choked on his laugh. “I can’t read this one out loud, I’ll probably get censored and the race is ready. That’s it for story time.”

“I hate him,” you huffed as you slammed the laptop closed.

“I don’t,” Lando grinned, taking the laptop away and pulling you into his arms. “He brought you into my life.”

“Shhh, stop being sweet and let me be mad at him.”

“Okay, he’s an absolute bastard. We should toilet paper his apartment and throw eggs at his car.”

You cupped his face and pecked him on the lips. “Thank you. That must have been hard to say.”

“Yeah,” he shivered with a grimace. “Can we not be mad at him now? I don’t like it.”

“Me neither…fine.”

You unlocked your phone and sent him one last text.

To Max: I’m still your best friend.

You didn’t receive a reply until his race finished and you smiled as you showed it to Lando.

From Max: Always.

#max verstappen fanfic #lando norris fanfic #max verstappen x you #lando norris x you #formula one x reader #formula 1 fanfic #f1 rpf #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #max verstappen imagine #lando norris imagine #formula one fanfiction #formula one imagine #lando norris x y/n

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seeingivy · 10 months

Text

you belong with me

satoru gojo x f!reader

**part of my satoru as taylor swift songs series

content: high school!au, gojo is a robotics nerd, reader is class president, emo nanami (my beloved), toji is ur shitass football playing boyfriend, typical cheesy highschool drama

an: tell me why posting this is giving me a tummy ache like I haven't posted for gojo in forever and now i think I suck at it :OOO anyways, please be nice to me about this and close your eyes if you hate it. also, totally reliving my high school days when I was senior class vice president (worst experience of my life) FDLJFKDSJFLS

You’re a hater. A self proclaimed, real-life, deep in your soul hater.

What do you hate today? Being class president.

You hate that you willingly ran, somehow won, had people up your ass all day about stuff that wasn’t in your control, and got stuck in the current situation you were in. Which was arguing with your boyfriend Toji, as you pace around your room and do your own fair share of screaming back.

“You just did that shit because you were pissed at me.”

“I did not, Toji. You know, not everything is about you. Other people needed the money and I put it where it was needed.”

“To the color guard team? Babe, no one gives a fuck about the color guard team. Everyone is at the homecoming game to watch the football team. Not a bunch of idiots waving flags in the air.”

“They’re also part of the game and all their equipment is broken. They need it more than you when you guys literally get donors and funding from the district and-”

“You’re just pissed about the sweetheart thing. That’s why you’re doing this shit and taking it out on everyone else.”

“Toji, I’m not even mad about-”

You’re met with the sound of ringing over the phone, signaling that Toji had enough and finally hung up on you. You flop straight onto your bed, pushing your face so hard into your pillow that sits uncomfortably against your nose and the smell of your laundry detergent makes its way to the crevices of your brain.

You hear a banging behind you and twist around to see Gojo pointing at his walkie-talkie, switching it on as you reach for yours. It’s still covered in glittery pink stickers from when you were seven, the silver coming off on your hand every time you grab it.

“Come in, bunny.”

“Loud and clear, Toru.”

He smiles, setting his hardware down - probably for another weird ass robot he was making - as he holds it up to his face, talking again.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. Just arguing with Toji, again. I’ll start allocating some of our funds to get you some sound proof windows.”

“Much appreciated, Madam President. That’s very generous of you.”

You laugh, dropping the walkie talkie to lift your fingertips to your temples, lightly massaging the pulsating under your skin.

“For what it’s worth, the color guard team is really grateful you did that for them. I know Utahime was so excited when the new flags came in, she was flipping them around on the field for hours.”

“That’s why it’s even more annoying. I know what I did was right, but he just doesn’t see it that way. Uta dragged me down to the field to watch them and their choreography looks so much better with the multicolored flags. They were really happy about it.”

“Heavy is the head that wears the crown?”

“Heavy is the head that’s dating Toji Fushiguro.”

He laughs as you switch your channel off, taking the last few seconds to study you before you draw your curtains. He can see the tension sitting in your shoulders and how clearly it hurts you to argue with Toji like this. And it infuriates him. That you even have to go to sleep angry and that the cause is the headass idiot you’re dating.

Toji Fushiguro is lucky, far more lucky than he realizes. Not for obvious reasons. Yeah, he’s a great football player and yeah, he’ll probably get scouted for some really good university at the end of the year. He doesn’t have a shortage of friends or intelligence and for all intents and purposes, he’s loved (which Gojo doesn’t understand at all).

He’ll probably be that scumbag that people see a few years down the line and then get infuriated at. Because if an absolute asshat like Toji Fushiguro can be successful, then truly all things have gone to shit. That the patriarchy is real, that society is broken, living proof that the asshole always wins and everyone else always loses.

But no, those are common reasons to hate Toji Fushiguro - ones he’s heard echoed by Suguru and Shoko every time he does something that pisses the two of them off. Like scream obscenities in the hallways, block their parking spots when they’re going to class, call them names when they walk by.

No. Toji Fushiguro is lucky because he gets to date you. Because out of the long list of girls he had to pick one, Toji just had to pick the one that was his. The girl he’s been in love with since he moved in right across the street and had a smiley neighbor excitedly waving at him through her bay window.

To him, love has always been the pigtail braids you used to wear everyday in the fourth grade, the matching walkie-talkies you bought him in sixth grade when he got grounded, and that sweet smile you’ve had since the first day he’s met you.

And when he sees those green curtains pulled against the bay window he’s stared at for years, where he’s loved you from for years, he lifts the walkie and says what he forgot to mention.

I love you.

Thanks to your gracious ride, you make it to school thirty minutes early. Your intuition - that Toji was ditching you as your ride to school this morning - was correct. Luckily, you made it in time just before class started.

Nanami’s already seated on the green bench outside the classroom, headphones plugged into his ears. As you walk up, you silently wonder how much hair gel it takes to keep his Gerard Way hairstyle in place.

“Hi Kento! How is my best friend doing on this fine morning?”

“We’re not best friends.”

“Sure we are!”

You reach forward and pinch his cheek in your hand, which he only swats off and rolls his eyes at. That’s how you know your best friends. Because if it was anyone else, Nanami would probably break their hand and walk away. But he always lets you tease him, because he know he loves you.

“Are you still fighting with that dog?”

“That dog has a name. And it’s Toji. And I’m not sure, he didn’t pick me up for school this morning.”

“Did he at least tell you he wouldn’t?”

“No. I was lucky enough that Satoru had walked Megs to the bus stop a little late and I was able to get a ride with him.”

Nanami looks over, narrowing his eyes at you, as the hallway starts getting crowded with people. And you know what he’s saying, what he’s been saying for the past few months.

“You know, it’s very normal to give your neighbor a ride when they need one. Not everything has ulterior motives, Kento.”

“That’s true. Everything doesn’t have ulterior motives. But he does. I’ve seen how he looks at you.”

“How does he look at me, Kento?”

“Like he’d kiss the ground you’d walk on.”

You roll your eyes, reaching up to mess up his perfectly styled hair. It doesn’t budge and you get a handful of minty smelling hair gel.

“As if.”

Like you’ve summoned him by bringing him up, Satoru’s sidestepping to where you and Nanami are sitting, Shoko and Getou in tow with him.

“Nanami~~ How’s my best friend doing?” Satoru says, bending over to totally obscure Nanami’s line of vision.

“Shut the fuck up, Gojo.” Nanami responds.

Nanami stands up, giving you a look, before he stalks away to his next class. Leaving you, Satoru, Shoko, and Getou standing in front of your classroom.

“So. I hear you have a robotics competition?” you ask.

“Yeah. Next Saturday. We always practice our hardware out the night before, throw a little party in the lab. You should come.” Getou says, smiling at you.

Satoru smacks Getou in the stomach right after he invites you, clearly trying to tell him something with his eyes. And then when he catches you staring, he gives you a nervous laugh.

You get it. He doesn’t want you there.

“Don’t act too excited to see me now, Satoru. Anything more and I might think you like me.” you bite sarcastically.

“What? No, it’s not like that. I just-” Satoru stutters,

“So you don’t like me?” you say, smirking at him. Shoko and Getou are laughing, the tips of Satoru’s turning pink as he very adamantly tells you that he does indeed like you.

“I have stuff to set up for the homecoming game that day, so I won’t be able to. But I’ll try my best, yeah?”

“Okay. Next time?” Getou asks.

“Sure, Sugar-u. I’ll see you guys around, yeah?”

You give the three of them a polite smile as you trudge away, leaving to meet Toji at his locker and give him a piece of your mind for this morning. Which leaves Shoko and Getou to give Satoru the scolding of his life.

“Are you fucking stupid, Satoru? You made it seem like you didn’t want her there.” Shoko says, smacking him on the back of the head.

“I panicked! Plus, Haibara always likes to play Just Dance and I’d rather not embarrass myself in front of her.” Satoru responds, rubbing the now sore spot on the back of his head.

“You’re hopeless, Satoru. She’s never going to like you if you keep rejecting her the way you do.” Suguru says, dragging him along to the robotics lab.

“She has a boyfriend. Who isn’t me. As if she would even consider dating me in the first place.”

And when the three of them pass you by the lockers, clearly getting yelled at by Toji, it only furthers their argument more.

“Yeah, I’m sure she really loves him, Satoru.”

Your argument with Toji hours prior simmers in your head, as you wait for the bus to arrive and for this godforsaken day to finally be over. You watch him pile into his car with Salma and the other boys from the football team, which only makes your anger fester more.

He’s doing this to piss you off. Of course, he’s doing this to-

“Need a ride?”

You look up and unclench your fists to find Satoru, sparkly blue eyes shining at you and a hand held out to you.

“Thanks.”

He leads you to his car, an almost demolished Honda Civic from his maniacal driving, and you climb in, immediately putting your head in your hands. You can feel him moving around you, the engine purring on and him backing out of the spot.

“About earlier. I don’t not want you to come to the robotics thing. I just thought it was awkward the way he asked you and I-I didn’t want you to feel obligated to come, you know? And I-I’d like it if you came too and so would the rest of us.” he rambles, a hand in his hair.

You look up, his ears tinted pink from the confession.

“I was just teasing you, Satoru. I’ll try to make it by, okay?”

He sighs, a clear breath of relief, and looks over to smile.

“Okay, cool cool cool. Now tell me why you and Toji are fighting.”

“When aren’t we fighting?” you murmur, pressing your head against the glass.

“But why?”

And when you look over, his blue eyes staring into yours, in earnest while the light is red, you unload it all.

“Do you know about the sweethearts thing they do at the homecoming game?”

“Uh. That’s when the cheerleaders wear the jerseys right. And then decorate the locker room or some shit for the players.”

“Yeah. Well, it’s not limited to cheerleaders. It usually is, but if you’re dating someone, that person can do it for you.”

“So I’m guessing Toji doesn’t want you to do it for him.”

“Not exactly. He was just saying that it’s more traditional for a cheerleader to do it since they’re also on the side of the track and he wants to see his name out there instead of running around, trying to make sure the game is running and all that.”

You slump into the chair as Satoru frowns, a pitying look in his eyes, as he keeps driving. You can’t help but watch him, his silhouette against the window - defined jaw, the slope of his nose.

He’s not the guy who ran away from kissing you in the eighth grade. He’s just ten times hotter.

You shake your head, letting the thought spill from your mind, as Satoru looks over.

“Jamoca?” he says, giving you a wide grin.

You can’t help but laugh, nodding as Satoru makes a sharp left turn, making his way to the ice cream shop.

Jamoca is your favorite ice cream flavor. Coffee, layered with fudge and almonds, became a proclaimed favorite when Satoru dragged you once in the sixth grade. After very sorely losing the class president battle, you moped in your room for five days - even going as far as borrowing one of Nanami’s My Chemical Romance vinyls to truly and properly mope.

On day three of blasting the vinyl, Satoru called enough and dragged you to the closest ice cream store, claiming it was the closest thing to therapy that you normies could afford. Since then, any bad day was easily solved with two things.

Jamoca and Satoru.

When you make it to the store, Satoru’s excitedly dragging you out of the car, his hand pressed in yours as you both run into the store, giggling while you order your single scoops. And when he drags you out to the curb and you sit there, you silently think to yourself why you ever stopped doing this in the first place.

Satoru leans over, digging his chocolate fudge covered spoon into your cup, before talking.

“So. If you guys fight so much, why are you still dating?”

“Dunno. Feels weird to initiate a breakup, I guess. I can’t see myself doing it.”

“Even when he wants other girls to be his sweetheart?”

“Even when he wants other girls to be his sweetheart.”

You kick the pebbles into the broken parts of the pavement, leaning your elbows on your knees.

“I don’t know, Toru. I guess he was just the first guy who ever liked me back and then I….spent so much time in the relationship and trying to make it work that it feels weird to let it go now.”

Satoru swallows hard, eyeing his melting ice cream, as he ponders the best response. Because in earnest, he has two options. Support you or be selfish. Support you to stay with Toji, to do what you’ve been doing because he knows it’s what you want. Or be selfish. Tell you that he you deserve better, that he could be that for you if you just let him.

He reaches over, flicking you in the forehead.

“Ouch, asshole.”

“You’ve got a really big brain in there. And you always have. You’ll figure out the right thing to do, just give it time.”

And when you give him a halfhearted smile, reaching over into his cup for a bite of his ice cream, he lets it go.

He can’t be selfish. Not when it comes to you anyways.

After running around all day, you give yourself thirty minutes to go to Satoru’s robotics thing. After triple checking the microphones work, the yearbook team has access to the field, the glitter has been set out for everyone trickling in, and that everyone who could possibly need your phone number has it, you speed run to the other side of campus, to the robotics lab.

And when you make it, the five of them - Haibara, Nanami, Shoko, Getou, and Satoru - are in the room playing Just Dance. Shoko’s sitting on top of the desk, flippantly moving her remote in the air, while Satoru quite literally is trying to give it all he’s got - and losing apparently.

You lightly push the door open, which stops the two of them in their tracks, and you’re met with some very excited cheers as they all drag you into the room. You take a seat next to Nanami, giving his cheek a pinch, which he hates.

“You’re Haibara, right?”

“You know who I am?”

“Why wouldn’t I? You’re friends with Nanami and Nanami and I are best friends.”

“No we aren’t.” responds Nanami, now sulking two seats away from you.

“Are too.”

You throw the nearest object, a pencil at Nanami, as you turn back to Haibara and laugh.

“I like your shirt. Flight of the Navigator is a really good movie.”

You see Satoru, Shoko, and Suguru’s eyes widen in the back at your words and hear a considerable amount of groaning from Nanami behind you. And after twenty minutes, you find out why.

Haibara really, really loves Flight of the Navigator. Almost too much. In earnest, you barely remember the movie - at most, maybe the weird little alien companion he has. But here Haibara is, reciting the cast, the directors, acting out the scenes and it’s clear to you that you’ve tapped into some monster they all keep hidden.

Luckily for you, Satoru comes to your rescue.

“Okay, Haibara. I’m going to steal her for you for some Just Dance.”

“I don’t Just Dance Satoru.”

“Oh yeah? You’re just saying that because you know you’re going to lose.”

You scoff, knowing exactly what he’s doing.

“As if, sweetheart. I distinctly remember you banning us from ever playing that game together after I beat you in the fifth grade.”

“You’re rusty. Maybe we’ll start with something easy. Like Rasputin.”

“I could do Rasputin in my sleep, bitch.”

“Prove it.”

You roll your eyes as you march over to the front, where they’re projecting the game onto the screen. And just for posterity’s sake, you take Satoru’s sunglasses from where they were flipped over on the desk and put them on, effectively blinding yourself from the screen.

And when the songs start, you can hear them all laughing behind you, Satoru and you hurling insults at each other as you dance on. And somewhere around the middle, you’re sure Satoru must be losing because he grabs your hands and suddenly he’s swinging you around in the air, his hands on your waist as you laugh.

And when you take your blindfold off and the song dies down, Satoru wins by five points.

“You asshole. You literally cheated, Satoru.”

“Did not. You’re just a sore loser, bitch.”

“You kiss your mom with that mouth?”

“Every night, sweetheart.”

You put the palm of your hand in his face as you push him away, moving to sit on the desk. He joins you, the two of you now watching Haibara and Nanami have a very one sided dance battle.

After forty-five minutes, Satoru’s phone buzzes three times and the smile on his face drops when he checks. You place your hand on his, squeezing twice before asking.

“You okay?”

“Huh. Oh, yeah. I-I think you should go to the field. Right now.”

“Wait, what? But you hate that kind of-”

He grabs your hand, dragging you out, as you both start running to the field. You keep asking as he pulls you on, getting almost no response and only a faster pace.

And when you reach the field, you catch just the end of it and the only thing grounding you to that moment is Satoru and Utahime, who was surely the one who had texted Satoru, holding onto your shoulders.

Salma, the cheerleader Toji picked to be his sweetheart, just asked him to homecoming during halftime. And he said yes.

Utahime squeezes your hand three times, a soft look in her eyes when she talks.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I just thought you would want to know and I wanted to tell you because you’ve been nothing but nice to me.”

You smile, moving into her open arms as you whisper a small thank you into her shoulder. She leaves, having to return to the color guard team waiting for her on the side, leaving you and Satoru standing on the pavement right by the field.

“Take you home?”

“Thanks, Toru.”

“You want Jamoca?”

“Not today.”

He nods, a hand on the small of your back, as he leads you to his car, even going as far as opening the door for you and letting you crack the windows while you drive back - which you know he hates.

At the first red light, he taps on the top of your head to get your attention.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

“Do you think there’s something wrong with me?”

“What? Of course, not. Toji is just an asshat who doesn’t see you for what you’re worth and-”

“No. No, no. Not like that. Do you think there’s something wrong with me because I’m not even the tiniest bit sad right now? I’m…relieved.”

Satoru looks over, the red front the traffic light flashing on your face, and a blank expression staring back at him.

“Of course, not. He’s a grade one idiot. Anyone in your position would feel that way, bunny.”

“I know. That’s true.”

“But?”

“Does this make me defective, Satoru? Like, maybe I just can’t like people that much or something and I was the problem.”

Satoru twiddles his thumbs on the steering wheel, pondering the same question he has been asking for the past few days. Encourage her or be selfish.

He can’t be selfish with you.

“Okay, Y/N. Close your eyes.”

“Huh?”

“Just do it.”

“Okay.”

He looks over, to find you eyelids fluttering shut, your face lit up by the streetlights outside.

“Now. Tell me about your dream guy, bunny.”

“What are you going on ab-”

“Just do it.”

You sigh, before thinking hard about his question.

“Someone I can be comfortable with. That’s my type. Like we can have fun together and play games but also being around them is comforting to me. Things might suck, but at least they are there to kind of pick me up at the end of the day. They’re nice to people and are surrounded by good company, because you are who you love and they try to be better each day.”

After finishing, you open your eyes to find Satoru staring at you, an all-knowing look on his face.

“Bunny?”

“Toru?”

“Does that sound anything like Toji to you?”

You slump back into your chair, sinking down.

“No.” you murmur.

“You aren’t defective. Well, maybe in the higher level cognitive thinking part because you clearly have some impaired decision making but-”

“Hey. Don’t be rude, asshole.”

“Get out of the car.”

You crane your head out the window to see you’re in fact not at your house, but at the ice cream store. And when he comes around to your side of the car, opening your door, he drags you out, the two of you eating you ice cream in the light of the dingy lamp outside the store.

You knock hard on your window, only stopping when Satoru looks up from his desk, dropping the pencil he was just scribbling with. You point to your walkie talkie, switching on the channel as he grabs his.

“Hi bunny. You look nice.”

“Thank you. Are you coming tonight?”

To homecoming. Because despite all odds and last night, you still have to go. And crown the homecoming king and queen since you’re the class president, which you’re sure will be Salma and Toji since the universe is very, very kind to you.

“I’m sorry. Haibara needed help designing something for next week.”

“Oh. Okay. I wish you were.”

“I wish I was too. His hardware is Flight of the Navigator themed so wish me luck.”

You laugh, giving him one last smile as he pulls the curtains to his window. And when you see his navy windows against the pane you’ve stared at him through for years, it only now occurs to you.

When he asked you to describe that last night, he unlocked something. Bringing it to your attention, to the forefront of your mind.

The person you were describing is him. You lift your walkie talkie to your mouth, press the button, and mention the words you forgot to say.

I love you.

And then you turn on your heel and drive yourself to the dance.

Satoru ponders it for thirty minutes.

Support her or be selfish. Support her or be selfish. Support her or be selfish.

Be fucking selfish.

Satoru gets up, dropping the hardware he was making for Haibara, and pulls out the first suit he can find. He grabs his walkie talkie off his desk, convinces Megumi to go beg your mom (who loves Megumi) for your walkie talkie, and then goes ninety on the freeway to get to the school on time.

He finds Nanami first, the glob of gel on his head somehow even worse than normal and sets his plan in motion.

“Nanami.”

“Please, for the love of god, not tod-”

“Go hand this to Y/N.”

Nanami and now Shoko are taking the walkie in their hands, flipping it over and inspecting it like they’re the fucking FBI. And more importantly, wasting time.

Three feet away, you’re standing by the punch table, counting how many balloons are on the ceiling. You reach three hundred and fifteen when you’re approached for the first time that night, by Nanami and Shoko.

“Nanami. What is going on with your hair? You can’t possibly need that much hair gel.”

“You would be shocked, Y/N.”

“That's what I said to him too. But this is for you.” Shoko says.

She hands you your walkie talkie, the silver glitter coming off on your hand, as you flip it over.

“Did you break into my house, Shoko?”

“No. But I’m guessing Satoru did. He ran in here five minutes ago and basically yelled at us to give it to you.”

They both shrug as they walk away and you look around, clutching the walkie talkie so hard in your hand you think you might break it. Satoru’s here.

And when you scan your eyes around the room, you see him at the front door, his eyes already fixed on yours. He’s smiling so big that it makes your heart squelch and suddenly you’re moving towards him. And as you both start walking (running) to each other, you can’t help but feel the anticipation of what’s coming.

Except that’s right when Toji stands in the middle of the two of you, his characteristic slimy, sneer on his face. He reaches for your hand first.

“Can we talk, Y/N?”

"No."

You shrug your hand off, pushing right past him, as you walk closer to Satoru. You can hear Toji shouting something at you, but you’re too tunnel visioned on Satoru to pay attention. And when you reach him, you’re both smiling so big at each other, that it makes your face hurt.

He lifts his walkie talkie to his mouth, talking first.

“Come in, bunny?”

“Loud and clear, Toru.”

“I love you.”

You can feel yourself smiling so big, so excited that you’re basically jumping on your toes, your walkie shaking in your hand.

“I love you.”

“Oh thank god. I was scared I was going to get a breaking and entering charge.”

You laugh, pulling him down by his tie and kissing him square on his face. And when he pulls away, ears pink and face red, you whisper against his lips.

“It was always going to be you. I belong with you.”

He smiles, that stupid smile you’ve stared at, loved for years and you can’t help but cheese, leaning forward to kiss him again.

the satoru as taylor swift songs series masterlist

taglist: @porridgesblog @platrom @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @skzismyhome @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @luna0713hunter @shotenvinsoot @itzmeme @squirrelspoetry

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mondaymelon · 1 year

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— 𝘄𝗮𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘂𝗽 𝗯𝘆 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝘀𝗶𝗱𝗲. ♥

:feat~ haitham, kaveh, cyno, tighnari:

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open!) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside

Seeing you peacefully resting beside him, AL HAITHAM can’t hold back his slight smile.

It’s been a long week for the both of you, and he knows you deserve this well-needed rest.

So, without making so much as a sound, he gently removes his arms from around you, quietly rising as to not disturb your slumber. Heading into the kitchen, he first brews two mugs of coffee, then cooks you breakfast.

And that’s how you awake, feeling the absence of Haitham’s warm grasp, laying in the messily strewn bedsheets while blinking your eyes groggily. Putting on your bathrobe, still half-asleep, you wander out of your room, the rays of sun coming through the windows nearly blinding.

Through the light, you can see Haitham’s figure, quietly making several batches of sweet-smelling French Toast. Wrapping your arms around his waist lovingly, you smile into his back.

“Morning, Haitham…” You mumble, yawning.

“Good morning, love.” ♥

KAVEH’s always been quite the rambunctious person, frequently bursting out and lecturing you about whatever he’s passionate about at the moment. But in these quiet early mornings, he’s more silent, just like now.

He smiles upon seeing your sleeping form, the first thing he glimpses as he opens his eyes, and all of a sudden, he feels so, pleasantly warm. It’s an almost funny sensation that seems to bloom about his body.

“Good morning, darling…” He whispers aimlessly, running a hand through your silky hair, smile only deepening. He knows you’re not awake, but continues whispering, “You look so beautiful right now.” With that, he falls silent, the only motion of his hands, which card through your hair gently, playfully, as he laughed quietly.

“I love you so much, more than you might ever realize.” ♥

CYNO just feels a sense of indescribable elation, knowing that you’re by his side.

Opening his eyes, feeling both of your arms wrapped around his, warmth spreading throughout his being as he softly smiles down at you, heart thumping in his ears, Cyno doesn’t know if he’s ever felt happier. He turns around so he can face you, which earns a muffled whine of protest from you. Gently, he pries one of your hands from his tanned arm and instead clasps it in his own, giving it a small kiss.

“Sleep well, love.”

He pauses, before speaking again, red-eyed gaze filled with adoration. In the streaming morning light, your illuminated figure looks, to Cyno, like one of an angel. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

“All I know is that I’m so, so lucky to have you by my side.” ♥

The sun hadn’t even risen when TIGHNARI first awoke, your figure being gently held in his arms.

“Morning,” he whispers to you, voice barely audible as he shifts his way out of bed as stealthily as possible. Hesitantly, he withdraws his hold on you, already missing your warmth. If he could, he would stay with you, all the way until the afternoon, lazing about in bed… but unfortunately, he had duties to attend to. His life as a Forest Ranger left him with no shortage of work to finish, and it was with an amount of regret that he had to leave you on such pleasant mornings like this.

With his loopy handwriting, he writes you a note and leaves it on the nightstand, reading, “Good morning, darling. I’ll be back at 5. Love you.”

He sighs in satisfaction, before gently pushing your bangs away and leaving a kiss on your forehead, smiling. “I’ll be back soon, so until then, wait for me.” ♥

(a/n) man i wanna sleep so bad but nOoOooOOoooooO i still have 15 assignments to do due tomorrow and i am going to wither away bye its been nice knowing you

anyway check out my event that has a couple spaces left at the time of writing this~

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xeeroo08 · 1 year

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Astro Observations 《1》

Disclaimer : I am not a professional astrologer. This post is only for fun and it is solely based on my observations and experiences. So, please take it with a grain of salt.

♠️ Taurus Mars 🤝 Anger issues. It's either a disaster or unhealthy suppression. No in between.

♠️ Mars-Neptune placements have some wide imagination when it comes to steamy stuff. It be going on in their heads 24/7! Also they might get frequent wet dreams. Infact on a side note they are quite looking forward to it when they go to sleep.

♣️ Mars in 4th house went through a lot of family trauma in childhood. It could be anything like daily arguments, abusive household, domestic violence etc.

♠️ Sagittarius venus and their frequent crushes. If influenced by Scorpio could be secretive as hell.

♠️ Jupiter–Saturn negatively aspected could indicate a hard academic life in the beginning but once you work on it, you will succeed with flying colors. My friend has her jupiter squaring saturn and she was always at the bottom in her class. But once she decided to put her mind into it, she became one of the toppers in our school.

♣️ Venus at 0° has no idea where to began with love. They want it but are clueless about what they actually want.

♠️ Sagittarius people love freedom. Speaking from personal experience, you don't want to tie them down by any means. Like Sagittarius moon hates being emotionally tied down by some melodrama. Don't even think about manipulating them they will run away know right away. Sagittarius venus hates being controlled in a relationship.

♣️ Virgo sun might tease their partner now and then after their night together just to see their reaction. You better blush🔪

♣️ Someone mentioned in their post that having jupiter in 2nd house in solar return chart could indicate buying a lot of books. It's true! I had it last year in my chart and omg I bought so many books in one year! Also I never faced any shortage of money that year so later when I calculated the expense, I was surprised. It's also funny because whenever I felt like, okay I want this book, in the next few days I would have it in my hands by some means. I was obsessed with books. Let it be study material or novels. I still have many novels that I bought last year but haven't read yet. Lol no regrets tho, I love books 📚

♠️ Moon conjuct pluto 🤝 love-hate relationship with their mothers. It's like— I can't live without you. The next moment—but if I die it will be only because of you. And it goes both the ways. I have this and trust me it hurts on a subconscious level.

♣️ Asteroid Actor conjuct moon could mean that when you act, you act flawlessly. No one could tell if you are acting or not. Emotions are always on point. It comes very natural to these people. If underdeveloped, could make sly manipulators, like a wolf under sheep's skin.

♠️ Scorpio MC people always have a strict control over their public image. They are not said to be mysterious just like that. You might think you have them figured out but there is always something going on in their lives which is unknown to the public. And if they don't want you to know about it, you will never know either.

♣️ Pluto in 11th house/Sagittarius/Aquarius could mean that you might have a wide variety of friends all over the world, through online or even through mutuals. But for some of you these people just come along and go. Or maybe you are the one who gets distant for some reason. They still remain good friends though, it's just that the sudden closure is gone. Plus they don't reveal every single secret to their friends. They know later it won't matter.

♣️ Venus conjuct/ Sextile/trine Mercury gives a very pleasant voice. These people should try applying in music industry.

♠️ Asteroid Skip in natal chart could indicate what all things you missed or neglected in your life. For example, in 6th house you could have neglected your health a lot to the point later it backfired. Or in Capricorn it could indicate that you skipped working.

♣️ Jupiter–AC people are very sharp minded. Especially if it's conjuction. They know how to turn the situation in their favour. They are also very versatile in nature, which makes them very well liked by people. Basically the All rounder placement.

♠️ Asteroid Scientia positively aspecting Jupiter/Sun/moon could mean you work good in science fields. Whereas if it's negatively aspected you might face a little difficulty in dealing with science majors and need more effors to put in. I have jupiter square scientia and I know exactly what I am talking about.

♣️ Asteroid Academia in 11th house/Aquarius could indicate changing many schools, colleges throughout your life or living in a hostel.

♠️ Aries risings are the most restless beings alive. They can't sit still for two minutes to save their lives! These people are very competitive when it comes to athletics, as for academics, they are okay with being average. Two of the people that I know who have this rising sign won gold medals during their school lives in sports competitions.

♣️ Mars conjuct MC or Mars in 10th house people are very dedicated and driven when it comes to their profession. They pursue their career with full potential.

#astrology #asteroid scientia #jupiter squar saturn #astro observations #zodiac signs #moon-pluto #moon conjuct pluto #aries rising #scorpio mc #asteroid skip #asteroid academia #Mars-Neptune #sagittarius venus #taurus mars #solar return #Asteroid actor

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inzaynety · 9 days

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➢ summary: there weren’t many people on the defense force that chose to use blades instead of guns. maybe that’s how you got so close in the first place. (little snippets of life as a defense force commander fighting kaiju and dating hoshina)

➢ content: hoshina x fem!reader, sfw & nsfw/suggestive

➢ notes: inspired by @narumi-gens agents of chaos series love that; i have a lot of hoshina and commander reader ideas in my notes app and thot why not put them all here 🫡

last updated: 6/4/2024

chapters (can be read as stand-alones or in the order below):

he’s a biter! (beginning)

investigation: start!

When visiting the Third Division, there’s never a shortage of questions and confusion about you. A few take it upon themselves to get to the bottom of it. (fluff, suggestive)

a little, jealousy

Too much staring and too many comments tick him off. He makes sure he’s the only one you look at. (smut)

part of the job

After using No. 10, Hoshina realizes one of the reasons behind his drive to fight. (slight angst, hurt/comfort)

i’m the only 10 i see

Kaiju no. 10 doesn’t know what love is. (crack, fluff)

short lived

Even professionals aren’t immune. Even they fail to notice. (angst)

the woes of a father

Ogata Jugo never thought he’d be this kind of dad, giving life advice and trying to help meddle in someone’s love life. The thing is, he didn’t even have kids. (fluff, slight angst, pre-relationship)

warning: asshole!

Gen tried telling you to avoid this man at all costs–you didn’t listen. (crack, fluff, pre-relationship)

blades before grenades

Kaiju suck but using guns to kill them is suckier. (fluff, pre-relationship)

long memories

Back at your building behind closed doors, you miss each other more than you’d think. (angst, hurt/comfort)

Have any questions about the relationship, other characters' reactions, etc.? Feel free to drop them in the inbox!

#kaiju no. 8 x reader #kaiju no. 8 fluff #kaiju no. 8 smut #kn8 x reader #kn8 fluff #kn8 smut #kn8 angst #hoshina fluff #hoshina smut #hoshina x reader #hoshina soshiro x reader #hoshina #hoshina soshiro #soshiro hoshina x reader #soshiro hoshina #fics

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hornychristianprincess · 22 days

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NSFW A-Z: WONBIN

a/n: this is just my personal analysis based off my perception and observations of wonbin's personality. all of this is fiction/fantasy

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Immediately after sex, Wonbin wants to be close to you, no matter how sweaty or gross the two of you are. While recovering in bed with you, he’ll be filled with a sort of cocky smugness as he reflects on just how good the sex was. His confidence will be boosted, causing him to be more talkative than usual and say whatever’s been on his mind. Once you’ve both recuperated, he’ll more often than not want to go for another round.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

On himself, Wonbin takes a lot of pride in his abs/torso. As a dancer and performer, he works hard to achieve and maintain his physique. I can imagine him having a lot of shirtless pics on his phone.

On his partner, Wonbin is a boob man all day, every day. Regardless of his partner’s size, there’s just something about the softness of them that is comforting to him. Even just feeling them through your shirt during a hug is enough to rile him up.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

I think Wonbin is a little finicky when it comes to any sort of mess so I’d say he prefers to come inside of his partner or in a condom. When he’s finished, there’s ease in being able to either throw the condom away or take a shower with you so you can wash up together.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

We all know Wonbin works really hard to maintain this mysterious, cold image, but with a partner who he feels comfortable with, Wonbin is the biggest softie. When he finds someone he loves – a feat on it’s own since he is such an introvert – they become his entire world. He would do anything to please them. He doesn’t want anyone knowing this because of how it would crack this persona he’s crafted for himself.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Wonbin has been handsome his whole life so I would guess he had no shortage of suitors. However, I don’t see him as the type to just go around slinging dick to everybody. It takes a lot for him to take interest in someone and even longer before he’s comfortable initiating sex. Still, I’d venture to say he has some experience under his belt.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Wonbin is a fan of any position where he can comfortably look into your eyes, so usually missionary or cowgirl is what he goes for. Being able to see your expressions as he pleases you is integral to Wonbin’s own pleasure. He likes to maintain intense, searing eye contact with whoever he’s fucking, and these two positions are what most easily allow for that.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

In the lead-up to sex, Wonbin uses jokes to mask how nervous or excited he is. He hopes that by being playful he’ll come off as cool. Once the sex actually begins though, he is deadly serious and intense. He becomes too focused on either giving or receiving pleasure to find anything funny. It’s similar to how he is when he performs on stage; Wonbin on stage and Wonbin off stage are two different people. Off stage, he can be personable and charming, but once he gets into performance mode, he takes what he’s doing so seriously that he can’t consider anything else.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Wonbin only bothers to groom himself when he has a partner, otherwise he can’t be bothered. In the beginnings of a relationship, he appreciates it when his partner puts in the effort to shave. But once you’ve been together for a while and built that camaraderie, he couldn’t care less.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

I think Wonbin enjoys receiving intimacy but not giving intimacy if that makes sense. Like he is fully comfortable with saying romantic things to you and watching as it makes you get worked up and emotional. But the moment when you do the same and he starts to get overwhelmed with emotion, he’ll be quick to hide his face in your neck or bite your shoulder to hold back his whines. As I’ve already alluded to, he shies away from anything that would put a crack in his mysterious persona. In other words, emotional vulnerability is difficult for him but he’s more than happy to hold space for and even provoke your own expressions of emotional intimacy.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Wonbin masturbates rarely and mostly as a means to either let off stress or cure boredom. I see him masturbating the most in the shower after a long day of work, allowing his worries to release down the drain. In many ways, I see him as someone who only appreciates masturbation for its basic utility rather than for the pleasure it brings. To him, sex is a pleasure best enjoyed with a partner.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

overstimulation (giving and receiving): Wonbin is turned on by the idea of fucking until you both literally can’t anymore. To do that requires draining each other’s bodies for all of the energy they have. This man likes to go for rounds. And he won’t want to stop until you both can’t move.

marking (giving and receiving): seeing marks on each other’s skin after sex is a pride point for Wonbin. It’s evidence of just how good the sex was. when receiving, Wonbin likes scratches on his back or even a bloody lip after a passionate kiss. When giving, Wonbin likes seeing the fleeting mark of his handprint on your ass after he smacks it, and more longlasting, hickies on every part of your body.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Wonbin doesn’t have any location preference. He is honestly down to fuck you any time, any place. Still, he’s aware that his partner would likely feel most comfortable to let loose in the privacy of a bedroom, so he’s fine with that.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Before sex even comes to mind for him, he is turned on by a person who is a little hard to get. Because he is so used to the attention of potential suitors. It’s easier to get his attention by not trying to pursue him at all, at least initially. Additionally, he is attracted to unique people with lots of confidence in themselves and their interests.

What motivates him sexually is feeling a strong level of trust with his partner. What also motivates him is his desire to please. I think Wonbin sometimes has thoughts of not being enough for a person. He sees sex as being the thing that could make someone stay if they feel like he’s lacking in other places. When he fucks, he makes the pleasure of his partner his biggest priority. He is turned on by their reactions and praise. In many ways, he sees praise of his sexual abilities as an affirmation of his personhood. Sex is one of his ways of expressing his love. Whenever he feels a strong surge of love for you romantically, it will immediately translate to him wanting to fuck you.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He’s turned off by someone who makes him feel even slightly judged for who he is as a person. I mentioned earlier that he likes people who play hard to get, but once you get past those initial meetings that define the beginning of the relationship, he has little tolerance for indifference. He wants his partner to be just as into him as he is into them.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Wonbin loves both giving and receiving head. As mentioned in my last answer, Wonbin is a huge giver. What turns him on about giving head is seeing his partner’s satisfied expressions and knowing that he possesses the power to make them feel euphoric in this way. And being the man he is, he loves to receive head. He finds you sexiest when you’re salivating over his dick, begging to have it in your mouth even after you’ve already made him come so many times this way before.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

By and large, I think his pace is dependent on whatever his partner asks of him at that moment or whatever he thinks is gonna feel the best for you. Usually he’ll start out slow just to get a feel for the rhythm of things, but he’ll have his moments where the sex starts to feel so good that he’ll get overwhelmed and start rutting into you roughly.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Quickies aren’t Wonbin’s favorite way to fuck, but he’s also not at all opposed to them. It’s not something that happens often, especially because he likes to carve out substantial time with you so that he’s not having to rush intimacy. Still, in moments where you only have a few moments to yourselves, he’d rather have you for a short time than not at all.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

There is nothing inherently satisfying about taking risks for Wonbin. Rather, he can become so turned on by his partner that his desire outweighs any fear. If you and Wonbin are in public and he finds himself enthralled by you in some way, he has no problem with pulling you aside and having his way with you, or even playing with you under the table during a public dinner. The risk of getting caught is irrelevant if not meaningless to him. Were he ever to get caught, he would be quick to shut down any teasing or outside conversation. He prefers to keep the private life of himself and his partner out of the conversations of others.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again – rounds rounds rounds rounds. In each round, Wonbin’s first priority is to make you come, and with that in mind, he is able to hold back on his own orgasm for however long he needs to. After each round, he does need some time to recuperate, but once he’s good, he’ll be ready and needy for more. On a perfect day with Wonbin you’ll fuck, watch a movie, get bored and fuck again, get some food, fuck, and just keep going in that pattern until you collapse in bed tiredly by the end of the day. Once he’s done though, he’s done.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Wonbin is open to both using toys and having toys used on him. While he’s fucking you, I could see him reaching over to a bedside drawer, grabbing a vibrator and using it to stimulate your clit while he gives you long, deep thrusts. Conversely, if you were to incorporate a vibrator or cock ring while giving him head, he might just cry like a baby. All in all, anything that can be used to enhance both of your pleasures’ is a win for him.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Wonbin is only a tease outside of the bedroom. Inside it, he gets right to the point and doesn’t have the patience to delay anything by teasing you. His focus is on making the both of you feel good. To him, pleasure is a feeling best enjoyed when instantaneous rather than to be delayed by pointless lollygagging.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Wonbin only allows groans and grunts to come out when he feels like they sound dignified and gruff. The moment a whine threatens to come out, he’s quick to bite your shoulder to hold it back. If a means of hiding his whines isn’t immediately accessible, he’ll just look and sound really pained as he fights to hold back what he’s feeling. He always wants to appear composed and in control of his reactions.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

“I love you,” he’d say, a breezy tiredness to his voice as he fucked you for what felt like the tenth time that night. “So, so much.”

These were the sort of inclinations Wonbin would get every time he was inside you. The soft, sentimental part of him is something you only got to see, something you managed to bring out of him so easily with the pleasure of your sex. The closer he got to coming, the rougher and more restless he come feel himself being. He pinned your wrists against the bed, eyes never leaving yours as his thrusts increased in impact.

“You’re mine forever, Y/N. No one can fuck you as good as I do. You belong to me,” he’d growl, each thrust punctuated by a kiss from his signature star shaped necklace, hanging from his neck and dragging up your face. You were close, and he could tell, the feeling of you clenching around him plus the telltale shutting of your eyes giving it away. Longing to be close to you in these moments, his face collapses onto yours as he initiates a languid, messy kiss.

“Come for me. Wet me,” he’d pull away to command. “Wanna feel you drip down my cock, pretty girl.” Those were the last words you were able to register before you were launched into the most powerful orgasm of your life, Wonbin following after you with a poorly suppressed whine only shortly after.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

I don’t have any strong inclinations either way. I just know that whatever he lacks in the sack he more than makes up for in other areas. Whatever his size is, it gives him no reason to not feel confident in his sexual abilities.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

I’d say his sex drive is pretty average. Sex with him is pretty physically demanding so it often happens that you fuck 1-3 times a week with a day or two between each time.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Once he’s gotten all the rounds out of his system, his energy is completely depleted. He’ll sleep like a baby.

#wonbin smut #park wonbin #wonbin #riize smut #riize #riize fluff #riize angst #wonbin fluff #wonbin angst #wonbin riize smut #wonbin riize fics #partk wonbin smut #park wonbin fluff #park wonbin angst #wonbin riize angst #wonbin riize fluff

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rosewaterandivy · 1 month

Text

tightrope across the table

Summary: Abandoned at the bar and left to your own devices, what's the worst that could happen?

Pairing: e.m. x fem! reader

WC: 1.4k

Warnings: NSFW 18+, drinking, cursing, & the perils of dating in the 21st century

A/N: For my beloved Luna, @abibliophobiaa - I love you and I hope this brings a smile to your beautiful face! Reblogs, likes & feedback are appreciated - reposting is not. Enjoy! 💜

What had begun as a promising New Year's Eve out with your best girl was quickly devolving. Nursing your now lukewarm beer, you watched as your friend laughed with the latest acquisition to her horde. She really was the worst kind of fag hag. Sipping the last dregs of beer from the glass, you tap through your phone and open the app that’s been taunting you all evening.

It’s not that you enjoyed being on the apps, because who in their right mind would? It was, unfortunately, a necessity now because meeting someone at a bookstore or your local coffee joint just didn’t happen anymore, not with everyone’s nose buried in their phone.

Much like yours was now.

The messages were the exact same as the last time you’d checked— nothing new. You sighed and tried to push back the swell of disappointment. This guy you’d been chatting with seemed decent but not eager to continue the line of conversation. You forced yourself to close out of the app, but before you could, a notification popped up: ‘New Message.’

Looking around to see where your friend had gotten to, you let out a sigh of relief finding her at the bar ordering another round. She sends you a wink and mouths something unintelligible. You shrug back with a smile and glace back down to your phone.

Not to be *that guy* but you wouldn’t happen to be at the bar right now, would you?

Heart kicking up and pulse racing, you calmly scan the immediate area trying not to draw attention to yourself. Finding nothing of concern, you prop your elbow on the table and hold the phone aloft in an attempt to stay alert to your surroundings.

Meant that in a totally not creepy way, fyi!

Despite yourself, you were smiling. You’d had a few conversations with this guy before and always found yourself grinning and laughing in equal measure. It was you who’d initially asked him to a movie a week or so ago, deeming the chemistry enough to warrant an in-person meeting. But he’d regretfully had to decline because of work or some other bullshit excuse, you couldn’t recall.

Things had understandably cooled off since then.

It wasn’t as if he’d stood you up or anything, he’d given ample notice, but it hurt all the same. And there was no shortage of hurt in your life at present.

If it wasn’t an engagement or bachelorette party, it was a wedding or christening. All your friends had apparently gotten the memo and paired up accordingly, while your invite to the Grown-Ups party was apparently lost in the mail.

Why is it that they were all married or already parents and you couldn’t even get a second date? Was something wrong with you? How had you become the designated single friend?

You were happy for your friends, of course you were, it’s exciting moving through the high points of life! But you could still be overjoyed for them and throw a pity party for yourself, the two weren’t mutually exclusive. And sure, people tried to get you out of the house with trivia nights and dinner dates with the girls but it inevitably wound up with them talking about their spouses or babies, cooing over pictures as phones were passed around.

And sure, they celebrated your milestones too. But was a graduate degree going to keep you warm at night? Was a promotion going to cuddle with you on the couch as you fell asleep to Gilmore Girls for the millionth time?

But things were fine, things were good even, if you could just forget the apps and failed first dates. Besides, you had your Emily Henry books and pints of Ben & Jerry’s— things could be worse.

Okay, so I def creeped you out. Just gonna go back to my cave, pls forget this ever happened.

He then sends a gif of Harry from Harry and the Hendersons sadly sulking off. Again, you find yourself smiling.

Mayybeeee a little creeped. You type back, Just caught me off guard is all.

There’s a minute or two before he responds.

You sure? I can totally fuck off, just say the word.

Crossing your feet beneath your chair, you weigh your options. It was you who asked him out after all, so clearly some part of you was interested. And he’s still talking to you now, even while he’s apparently out at a bar.

Potentially the same bar you’re at now…

Okay, fuck it.

After sending a quick text to your friend explaining the situation and asking her to standby, you toss your hair behind your shoulder and take another look around.

The bar is pretty packed, the weather is decent so the picnic tables outside are quickly filling up too. It’s loud but not deafening and from your current location, you’re within sight of the door for a getaway if needed.

You hoped you wouldn’t need it.

Sparkly boots.

And with that, you lock your phone and set it to the side. You figure, if this guy is worth his salt he’ll figure it out and find you. If not, oh well, at least you tried.

The waiting is torturous. Minutes trickle by and you’re about to pack it in for the night when there’s the jangle of a chain against the metal chair and a man swathed in black denim and leather all but pours himself into it.

“Fucking christ, d’you know how many people are wearing boots tonight?”

For a moment there, you’re speechless— eyes wide and pretty lips opening to say:

“Okay, but how many were wearing sparkly boots.”

His lips, pink and full, pull into a winning smile.

“Just you sugar, but I think you already knew that.” He leans back in the chair, fingers locked behind his head as he stretches back.

His shirt rides up, exposing a sliver of skin at his hip. You try not to lick your lips.

“I’m Eddie, by the way,” He says offering you his hand to shake, fingers bejeweled with silver rings.

He’s warm to the touch as you palm slots against his. His lips part to in a soft gasp as your thumb grazes a knuckle and shake his hand, introducing yourself. His brown eyes flit from your hand to your face and back again, as if he can hardly believe you’re real.

Reluctantly, you pull your hand from his grasp.

His fingers trail after yours, drumming along the tabletop. Your hand rests mere inches from his, close enough to reach out and touch.

You cock your head to the side assessing him. Eddie’s not all that different from his pictures on the app— scruffy in that attractive masculine way. Long hair pulled back at the nape of his neck, a few errant curls falling to frame his face.

A vibration to your left breaks the moment.

You mutter an apology and check to your messages:

How we feelin?

This from your friend by the bar who's standing steadfast with her retinue, keys swinging from her fingers if you need her.

Another swoosh sound signalling a response. You glance down once more, this time it’s a photo of you and Eddie taken just after his arrival. You’re looking down, lips rolled between your teeth even though it’s clear as day you’d rather be smiling and he’s looking at you like… Well, like you hung the moon.

“So, uh,” He ducks his head to cough and clear his throat. “Have I passed the test?”

“What’s that?”

“Y’know, the test verifying that I’m not gonna abscond with you to an undisclosed location or whatever.”

“How did you—”

“Your friend’s not very subtle.” He nods in her direction and follows it up with a wave.

“Well, Edward, if you must know—”

“It’s Eddie.”

“Shut up, you know it all!”

His laugh and your retort takes him by surprise, it’s loud and probably the best thing you’ve ever heard.

“As I was saying, that all depends.”

Eddie leans across the table, all loose limbs and big doe eyes.

“Depends on what, sugar?”

You give a subtle nod to your friend at the bar who flags down the bartender and places an order.

“If you’ll let me buy you a drink.”

He smiles and the rest of the world could drop dead for all you care. For a night that was beginning to look a bit disastrous, with the arrival of Eddie it was starting to have some possibilities.

#eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #fic: ml #Spotify

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