#(so i'm trying to keep that in mind when writing this)

[nicholastcall]

2 am.

haechan! sub x f.reader! soft dom | smut (mdni) | wc; 2.8k

desc : You and Haechan have been friends for some time now. After a late night conversation, it is followed by something you never expected coming.

⚠️ content : begging, riding, sweat, praise, d in p, unprotected sex (stay safe irl), bondage, eating out, pet names, finishing inside, slight body worship, oral (f. receiving), subtle aftercare

a/n : Hi everyone !! I wanted to branch out for who I'm writing so I hope you guys enjoy this one, it's also my first f!reader fic so hopefully it isn't too bad lol

You and Haechan are laying down together having late night talks one night. Topics being thrown out left and right, from embarrassing high school memories to funny date stories you two haven’t told each other quite yet. The room was filled with nothing but your voices - no cars, no tv, not even a cricket could be heard.

Then, the topic came up - sexual fantasies. You two had been close for a while but really haven’t talked about sexual experiences outside of your guy’s first times. The tenseness in the air thickens when this topic comes up as you deep down had slight feelings for Haechan, you just couldn’t tell him. Your chest clenches and your muscles tighten as silence soon follows.

“Well, I’ll go first since I brought it up. I’ve always wanted to have someone on top riding me. I’m always on top of the person I’m fucking and I get tired after a while so I just wanna sit and relax and enjoy it.”

Fuck. All you could think about was you on top of him, bouncing up and down on his cock, sweat dripping from your body onto his bare chest. His head tilting back from the pleasure and the quiet curses coming from his throat. Your arousal slowly hit you and you visibly became more red as your mind roamed wild with your imagination.

You close your legs to hide it but your skin was as bright as a tomato. There was no hiding how turned on you were. Haechan turns to you to hear your response to be met with your visibly flustered state. He smirks knowing what effect he has on you and goes back to staring at the ceiling.

“What about you y/n, do you have anything you’ve ever wanted to try?”

In the moment you freeze and your brain is racing at a million miles a second. You try to think of something, anything to say to him but the words won’t come out. All you could think about was his dick inside of you and how badly you wanted to experience it.

Then you think of something - bondage. You’ve always wanted to try to be in control in the moment but have never gotten the chance to. You’ve always thought about it with Haechan. You’ve heard him whine over not getting his way. Beg for something when you’re keeping it away from him. You knew it would be such a sight to see while fucking him. So you take a deep breath and start to open your mouth.

“Actually, there is one thing. I’ve always wanted to tie the person’s wrists to something. Or even together. I want to know what it’s like to have power in the moment.”

Chills went down your spine as total silence fills the room following your response. You don’t dare move as you don’t want the moment to become even more awkward than it already was. The atmosphere in the room completely changed after your response - the air heavier and your breathing becoming more shallow.

Haechan flips himself to lay on his stomach as he moves his hand to graze over your thigh. Your muscle quivers at the sudden contact and a gasp is released filling the once silent room. You look down at him and catch his gaze - the hunger in his eyes evident. You could sense his desire for you in that moment growing, becoming stronger.

He slowly slides up your thigh, feeling every single twitch throughout your body. Your chest rising and falling faster and faster as he gets closer to your core. You want to stop him but your body responds otherwise. You deep down want this - desire this. He stops right at the waistband of your shorts as he stares into your eyes with a hungry grin.

“How about we kill two birds with one stone?”

Time felt like it slowed down at that moment. You stared into each other's eyes with lust, desire, need. Seconds felt like minutes. You felt like your breathing was slowing down at the intensity of the situation he put you in. Never in a million years did you think your friend of so long would ask you to have sex. Let alone someone you’ve craved for so long.

Your heart speaks before your brain as you nod at him in approval, giving him the green light that you want this too. He smirks once again in satisfaction as he gives you light kisses along your thigh as he pulls your shorts down. The warmth of his lips melted onto your exposed skin filling the cold air that hit moments prior.

Your head rolls back as you feel him shift in between your legs. The weight of the bed causes your lower body to slightly dip as he lays in front of you, licking up your thigh. He finally reaches your core as he starts teasing it with his tongue. Your arousal becomes more and more evident as he licks up your clothed folds, causing you to moan out loud.

He lifts up after some time of teasing you to look at your fucked out face. Mouth open and chest rising and falling deeper than before. Your cheeks flushed out as subtle moans leave your throat from the feeling of him leaving you.

“Fuck baby, all this just from me teasing you? You must have really wanted this.” You couldn’t respond to him, just heavy breathing escaping your mouth as you try to calm down from the pleasure. He goes back in, hovering above your cunt, pausing to see how desperate you are. You feel his breath on your wetness and arch into him at the feeling.

He moves your panties to the side and starts devouring you. Your juices spread all over his face as you reach into his fluffy brown hair and take a handful of it into your palms. You pull him closer into you desperately as he groans into you. The sound of his tongue lapping over your wet pussy and his satisfied groans fill the silent room as you start to feel heavenly. His name soon becomes the only word you remember as your legs start to shake around him.

He hooks his arms around your bare thighs holding you in place as his tongue dives deeper in you. Your head tips back from satisfaction as his tongue slowly fucks into you. You feel the heat inside of you and your muscles tense up as you start to reach your climax. Haechan can feel you tighten everywhere, hear you get louder. He knows you’re close too.

“Fuck Haechan, I’m so close.” His tongue’s pace fastens as your back starts to arch off of the bed. Sweat dripping down your face as you feel your climax edging you. The erotic noises from you cause Haechan to become hard, his tent evident in his pants as he starts to grind on the bed to find some relief.

He continues to eat you out as he groans into you more aggressively. He brings a hand from your thigh back around to your cunt as he starts rubbing circles on it. The sensation was too much for you, almost causing you to scream at the feeling of him.

Mixes of explicits and his name leave your mouth as you came on his face. The climax hit you like a truck. Your back arching off of the bed as the sound of slurping radiates from your core, Haechan licking it up as you finish. Your hand tightens its hold in his hair causing him to grunt from the feeling, smirking into your soaked pussy.

He comes up, your juices all over his face as he licks his lips. Your stomach tightens at the erotic scene in front of you, and you look down and notice his hard cock in his pants. You bite your bottom lip as he comes up to meet your lips with his. You taste yourself on his lips and you reach down to palm his cock through his pants. He moans into your mouth, high pitched and so needy.

“You can still give me another one, right y/n?” He says as he moves his lips to the skin of your neck. You tilt your head to the side to give him more room to contact. The feeling of him groaning on your neck while stroking his erection was almost too much.

“Y-yes I still can” You muster up the strength to mutter out. You take the buttons of his shirt into your hands to slowly start undoing. The golden skin of his peaking through the newly made opening almost calling your name. He leans off of your neck to allow you to remove his shirt to reveal his lean figure. You stare at the sight in front of you, taking it all in.

He shifts back onto you capturing your lips into his as he grinds his erection into your soaked crotch. You wrap your legs around him as you feel his long, hard cock tease your entrance with slow strokes. You hold onto his shoulders to steady yourself. Haechans head dips back from the satisfaction your pussy is giving him, clearly forgetting what you two are supposed to be doing and wanting to get himself to his own climax.

You regain control of yourself and push himself off of you, now positioning himself kneeling in front of you. You reach up and undo the belt to his pants quickly. Your need for him inside of you at its peak and you couldn’t wait any longer.

You remove the belt from the loops and flip him over to your former position so you’re straddling his lap. His hands on your hips as you create friction between you and his cock. The feeling of it teasing your core even more made you restless. You needed him inside of you now or it was going to drive you wild.

“My turn to make you feel good.” You grab his wrist and raise them to the bed frame. You take the belt you removed from his pants and use it to tie him to the post. Haechan moans a little at the feeling of being tied up. Not because it hurts, but because he is enjoying this a lot more than he expected.

You finish with the belt and fall back to his lap. The newly exposed skin, the flexed biceps from his position, the messy hair on him. Your arousal was coming back - and was harder. You slide back to grab the waistband of his pants. Haechan licks his lips as you slide his pants down along with his boxers in one push.

His cock springs out and slaps his abdomen when it comes out. His hard, long cock was leaking with precum at the tip from the prior actions of you two. You lick your lips at the sight as you reach out to grab his length. Wrapping your fingers around his cock makes him shutter. The satisfaction of finally being able to feel pleasure was very evident. His abdomen contracts as you apply more pressure, defining his toned stomach. His arms tensed, flexing even more as he was trying to move.

You stroke his cock, making it leak more of his built up juices as you lean in to lick up the mess. The feeling of your tongue dragging from his base to his tip had him moaning your name. The combination of your tongue and hand working his cock and the restraints on his wrists were driving him crazy. Back arching against the bed, the room was slowly filled with his quiet moans and you giving him slow, long strokes.

“Y/n your tongue feels so good. Please don’t stop, wanna cum in your mouth baby.” You stop licking his cock to look up at him, still stroking him but slightly faster now. His breath becomes more ragged and unpredictable. His chest muscles rising and falling even faster than before, you can tell he’s close.

“Not yet Haechan, what’s the fun in that? You can hold on for a little longer right? I still haven’t even gotten to ride your cock yet.” His face becoming more red, he nods to let you know he can continue. You smirk as you leave small kisses on his body. From his cock, the sides of his thighs, up his abdomen, his chest, the creases on his armpits, his neck, up to his face.

You reposition yourself on top of him, teasing his now bare cock with your pussy. Your hands on his sweaty, bare chest, you begin to slowly move up and down rubbing yourself on him. The wet sounds coming from you were heaven to both of your ears, causing both of you to moan. Your hot breath on each other's mouths as you soak his cock in your juices.

You reach down to grab his cock in your hand. You feel his body twitching under you, the need of your pussy around him evident. The needy look in his eyes as he’s under your mercy makes you twitch above him. The power of being in control felt so good you didn’t want this to ever end.

You finally line his cock up with your hole. The wetness from your arousal allows an easy entry to your tight pussy. The slow burn of him entering you gradually turned into a pleasurable pain. Your mouth agape as you sank down onto him, using his chest as an anchor for you. You finally sink down onto him as he whips his head back in pleasure. The tightness of you was too much for him to handle, he couldn’t stop the sounds coming out of his throat.

You sit there as you both let out moans, adjusting to his size. After some time you slowly start to move. Up, down. Up, down. A steady rhythm was set as the sound of skin on skin fills the room. The wetness around his cock became more and more noticeable as you bounced on him.

“Fuck y/n, just like that. Don’t stop, that tight pussy around my cock feels so good.” Haechan let out as you leaned forward to capture the taste of his skin on your tongue. You took advantage of the vulnerability of his position. You licked everywhere on his body, the control making you feral. You captured his neck, his chest, his armpits, his biceps, everywhere with your tongue. The saltiness of his sweat and the musk coming off of him makes your arousal a multitude stronger.

Haechan is squirming under you, unable to move, all he is able to do is take what you give him. His back arches off the back, his muscles tightening throughout his whole body, he was losing control of himself as he was reaching climax. He stares up at you, basking in what is in front of him. His fucked out face looking back at you as you lean back, using his thighs to support your rhythm as you move harder on his waist.

As you switch to this angle you feel his cock twitching inside of you while hitting deep inside of you. The spot you could never reach with anything he was hitting like it was nothing. Your head tilts back as the sensation brings you closer to your high. The rhythm you set became more sloppy as you were chasing both of your highs.

“Haechan I’m about to cum!”

“Let it out please, cum around my cock. I want to feel your juices all around me. Show me how good I’m making you feel.”

His words were the final push as you came harder than last time around him. Your pussy clenched around him, making him moan out loud with you. You slowed down to come down from your high, but Haechan wasn’t done. He started slamming into you from below, head tilting back into the pillows, hands holding onto the bed frame. You lean forward from the overstimulation of your clit, sinking your face into the side of his neck.

“Fuck, I’m about to cum.” With that he released inside of you. You felt his dick twitch inside of you as he filled you up with his cum. You sit there for a moment, the two of you coming down. You push yourself up as you get him out from inside of you. You moan at the feeling of him leaving your hole as you reach out to his wrists to untie the belt to release his wrists.

After releasing his wrists you both lay together. He wraps his arm around you as you lay your head onto his chest. You stay that way for a little bit until you look up at his sweaty face.

“Hope you enjoyed your fantasy Hyuck.”

“Same to you y/n. We should've done this earlier, that was amazing.” He says to you as you lean up to give him a kiss then both fall asleep in each other's embrace.

[pome-seed]

Bucky Barnes with an Autistic Partner

Summary: Bucky with an autistic partner - Just a drabble

Word Count: 835

Warnings: Mention of panic attacks. Mention of sex.

18+ blog, Minors Do Not Interact.

Authors Note: Okay yes, this might be a little self indulgent because I'm autistic, but shhh. ALSO, if you want to be apart of my taglist, let me know :)

Bucky is the most understanding partner you’ve ever had. 

He is patient and kind and open. He’s always listening, always paying attention. 

Communication can be hard for him, but he makes sure to be vocal for you, just in case you have problems reading him. 

He has a little notebook he keeps in his back pocket where he writes down small things to remember. Like textures you don’t like, so he can make sure not to buy any clothing items or things for your house that will make you uncomfortable.

He writes down your little fixations, and always finds ways to make you feel seen. Maybe he’s making or finding something that relates to your current fixation. 

He also makes sure you know he’s always willing to go on the long drive to your favorite restaurant. Because sometimes food can be hard for you, textures and flavors. But he doesn’t mind.

Bucky is also always the most protective person around you. 

If anyone tries to mock you, or pressure you into something, or touch you, he steps in. 

Bucky can’t stand it. He knows how much you’ve struggled in the past with people, relationships, and just day to day experiences. Because most people aren't very understanding. Because if they don’t experience it, they don’t approve of it. So you've experienced plenty of cruelty.

So when you’re out in public and things get too loud, he makes sure no one says a thing about your headphones, whether noise cancelling, or just to play music and distract yourself. 

And when something happens? Like someone touches you, or yells, or things are just too overwhelming, he finds a way to help. He pulls you to the side, away from the crowd, and wraps you in a compression hug, trying to help you calm down.

But it’s hard, because it's just too much. Your skin is crawling and you can’t breathe. Panic swells in your chest and you don’t even know what caused it.

But Bucky doesn’t question you. He doesn’t insult you, or make you feel bad. Because that doesn’t matter to him. All he cares about is making you feel safe and calm.

So he stands there, holding you tight while you cry into his chest, your hands pressed over your ears. And when you finally begin to calm down, he guides you through breathing exercises to slow your heart rate.

His gentle hands cup your face, calloused thumbs swipe away your tears. 

“Better?” He asks, not pressuring you to move on, but just checking in. 

You nod, closing your eyes as you lean in. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, like it’s a habit to feel guilty that you are the way you are.

“Shh, don’t be, sweetheart.” He frowns.

Nothing wounds him more than the idea that you have been made to think there’s something wrong with you. Because in his eyes, you’re not wrong. You’re not different, you’re just you. 

And he loves you.

And he shows it every day.

He's also the sweetest boyfriend during sex.

He's careful, always checking in, making sure you're okay. Before you guys ever started having sex, he made sure to sit you down and talk about boundaries. It was hard for him, but he'd rather die than make you uncomfortable.

It was hard for you to talk about it, because it was a little embarrassing, but you did it. Because you want him, god, you want Bucky.

So you talked about what was off limits, and what you were interested in.

It wasn't cinematic, it wasn't like you just collapsed into each others arms and fucked until the sun rose over the horizon.

But it was better than that, because you felt safer than you ever had before. You felt seen, and cared for.

So for over two hours, he picked you apart piece by piece. He dragged you through more orgasms than you thought you could have in one sitting. He touched you, kissed you, and cared for you.

And afterwards, he didn't expect you to fall asleep in his arms. He knew you would want to clean up, so he carried you to the bathroom and let you decide if you wanted to shower alone or not.

Because whatever you decided, he would accept it with a smile.

There’s days where you wonder how you got lucky enough to be with someone like Bucky. You don’t understand how a man like him ended up with someone like you. 

But the truth is, you’re perfect for one another. Because everything he does for you, you do in your own way for him.

Because Bucky isn’t perfect either. He has hang ups. He has problems. There’s days where he goes without speaking. There's days where he just wants to be alone. 

There’s days where he just wants to hold you, but you don’t want to be touched. 

But it’s okay, because you love each other, and you’ll always find a way to be there.

A/N: I could go on forever about how I think Bucky would be the best boyfriend. Ignore this if you don't find it interesting... :)

Taglist: @a-world-with-pure-imagination @frog-fans-unite @1967barracuda @akkklys @cherryheairt @lonelyghosts-stuff @mysoulbelongstobuckybarnes @devilslittlehelper @miss-chuchu @dollface-xoxo @natalia42069 @thuul-box @local-crazy @justachillgirllui @pleasecallmeunhinged @cookies-and-music @fallen-w1ngs @unicornqueen05

[wordsmeetwbb]

Ease Your Troubled Mind

Word count: 1.3k

Content: description of anxiety attack, hurt/comfort

Pairing: Paige x Reader

Notes: this is based on this request from january that i said i was going to write a month ago but uh. here it is! i'm really not used to writing in second person POV so hopefully it doesn't sound weird or unnatural. the title is from "a troubled mind" by noah kahan, so i recommend listening to it!

________

Your room is dark when Paige enters. The curtains are closed, lights are off, and you’re sitting on the floor next to your bed, legs tucked up to your chest and your head resting on your knees.

The door creaks as Paige eases it open, but she pauses before she really steps into the room. She blinks a few times as her eyes adjust to the darkness.

“Baby?” She asks softly. Her gaze settles on you, and although you don’t look up, you can feel the weight of it. You want to answer her, to assure her that you’re fine, that you’ll be out of your room in a few minutes for your weekly movie night in her apartment, but the tightness in your chest steals the words. A stuttered exhale shakes your body as you try to force the words to come out.

You hear footsteps pad across the room as Paige approaches. She crouches next to you on the floor. She doesn’t reach out, doesn’t try to touch you or make you look at her, but the warmth of her body radiates into your space.

“Hey. What’s goin’ on?” Her voice is soft, heartbreakingly gentle when she speaks. The heaviness in your chest seizes, tightening around your lungs as you try to pull air into them. You shake your head, hair spilling forward and curtaining your face. Paige pauses for only a second before she sits down right beside you.

“Can you breathe with me, honey?” You want to tell her that you’ve been trying and failing to steady your breath for ten minutes, but instead, something like a whimper slips out of your mouth. Paige’s hands are on you in a heartbeat.

One arm wraps around your shoulders, hugging you into her side tightly, and the other comes around your knees, keeping your body small and completely surrounded by her.

“I got you. Just breathe with me. In and out,” she prompts. You suck in a shaky breath, trying your best to copy her slow and steady rhythm. “Just like that. There you go, in and out.”

It feels like your lungs are rattling with every attempt you make to breathe in, like they’re filled with nails and shards of glass that poke at your ribs when you exhale. A small sound escapes you, and you bury your head into Paige’s neck to try to hide the noise.

Your movement jostles her, and she settles more solidly onto the ground, pulling you into her lap as she does so.

“Shh, come here. I got you, honey. Just keep breathing with me,” Paige soothes. You suck in a breath and even through the rushing noise in your ears you can tell it doesn’t sound smooth and easy the way Paige’s breaths do. Another tear slips down your face, but Paige’s hand is cradling your face in an instant. Her thumb brushes the droplet off gently, almost reverently, as she keeps holding your face.

With her other hand, she takes yours and guides it to her chest. It takes a few moments for you to figure out why, to feel the steady beat of her heart beneath her skin. You inhale shakily again, letting the blonde’s warmth seep into your own body.

“In and out, just like that. There you go,” Paige coos. Your hand rises and falls with her chest as she takes her own breaths. You breathe with her, letting the rhythm wash over your body and ease the trembling in your limbs. Paige just cups your face with one hand and strokes soothing lines up and down your back with the other.

It takes a while longer before the tears stop falling from your eyes and your lungs don’t feel like they’re going to cement themselves shut. Then you can finally move your arms, loop them around Paige’s neck, press a soft kiss to the crease of her neck where your face is still hidden.

“You’re okay,” Paige whispers. For the first time all night, you believe her. “Do you wanna talk about it?” You shake your head immediately, then hesitate. You lift your head away from her skin, meeting her concerned gaze.

“I just… I’ve been so overwhelmed lately, and I guess it all kind of came out at once. I don’t know what happened, I just couldn’t breathe and I couldn’t stop shaking and I couldn’t even stay standing and I–”

“Shh,” Paige cuts you off. “You’re okay, baby. You’ve had a lot goin’ on lately, but you’re okay. It’s okay to be anxious about it.”

“Yeah, but I had a complete breakdown about it. I’m an adult! I should be able to handle a little bit of stress!”

“Hey, don’t beat yourself up over this. You can’t control an anxiety attack, baby. It’s not your fault. It’s okay to need help,” Paige comforts. Her voice is low and smooth, flowing like honey over your ears. You take a deep breath and try to calm yourself.

“Still, you shouldn’t have to sit here and pull me back from the ledge. It was my breakdown, not yours.” You’re a little scared to meet Paige’s eyes after that statement, but it’s the truth. She’s always there for you when you’re stressed, when you feel overwhelmed, or don’t know what to do. Not once has she ever complained about it, but you know it’s an inconvenience for her.

“No, baby, no. Don’t do that.” Paige’s hands are on your face again, thumbs brushing over your cheeks. She tilts your head, forcing you to meet her eyes.

“I love you. You know that, right?” You nod. You do know it. It’s why you feel so bad for making her deal with all your emotional shit. “Helping you feel better is never gonna be a burden to me, baby. Never.” Your eyes drag over Paige’s face as she speaks, looking for any hint of insincerity or discomfort, but you find none.

“Okay,” you whisper. “Thank you.” Paige’s mouth curves in that soft little smile she only ever gives to you, and you really do feel a little bit better.

“Can we still do movie night?” You ask quietly. Paige’s smile widens a little bit.

“Do you want to?” You nod, needing the distraction. “Okay. I won’t even fight you to pick the movie tonight. We can watch whatever cheesy rom-com your heart desires,” she declares. It makes you giggle, and it sounds a little scratchy leaving your throat, but it feels like it clears something heavy in your chest.

In the end, you don’t end up watching a rom-com. You put on Lilo and Stitch, Paige grabs your favorite fuzzy blanket from your bedroom, and you curl into your girlfriend’s side on the couch.

A little later, when the movie is starting to wind down, and you’ve long since slid down to rest your head in Paige’s lap, and her fingers are scratching gently at your scalp, you feel the rest of the cold, heavy tension in your chest break apart and dissolve.

And when the credits start playing and Paige turns the TV off, and she shifts off the couch and holds out her hand for you to come to bed with her, and you whine and complain about walking the fifteen feet to your bedroom, Paige picks you up off the couch and carries you there instead. Her solid, strong arms are wrapped around you, and her breath is in your ear, and the tension in your chest stays away, because in its place is how loved you feel. It glows in your chest, warm and soft and comforting, and takes up the space that the icy cold fear had occupied mere hours ago.

And it doesn’t matter that you cried on your bedroom floor, or that you couldn’t breathe through the panic attack, or that your legs weren’t strong enough to hold you up. It just matters that Paige loved you through it.

[crepezinhos]

hey, so i did reath BOTH of those before i requested these hehe they were really good omggg (highkey fulfilled my desires….)

idk.. im just REALLY craving a yanderer scara bc i jst love the way u write him,, when u write one ill be super happy like biting the edge of the desk happy, so pleek PLEASE keep this in the back of ur mind i beg of

Number 1 Fan

(REQUEST #14) POV: After the failed dinner with your family, things in your life started to suddenly feel eerier than usual. Scaramouche felt extremely awkward to talk to and even your secret lifestyle seems to have changed with the arrival of a new premium viewer called ‘Balladeer’.

⚠️ WARNINGS:

— This is a NSFW Yandere work

— Reader is FEMALE and uses SHE/HER pronouns

— Contains: Sex work, masturbation, dirty talk, threats and lots of insults

— Stalker!Yandere!Scaramouche x SexWorker!Reader

— AU is: Modern

— Reading of previous part is advised

Makeup? Ready.

Toys? Ready.

Lingerie? Ready.

Ok, here we go.

Another day, another livestream.

Three, two, one, and...

Click

The little camera at the top of your computer brightened in red, signaling it was turned on. Then you breathed in and out as you begun to wait for viewers to join before you could start today's performance. Since most of your watchers were already aware of the time you start your livestreams, quickly, the viewer numbers popped from 0 to 17, to 39, and so on...

You like to wait until you reached 100 at minimum before beginning to say ‘Hi’ to them, and 500 to begin the actual performance. Thankfully, reaching 100 viewers was a matter of seconds now.

"Good night, sweeties!" You cutely spoke to your computer’s screen, welcoming all of them warmly as you watched many messages in the chat begin to pop up.

Iloveasianhotties334: You look hot

garrykafka0275: Show your boobs

11037kuwata: Can I request something?

As always, the messages made you feel a bit disgusted and disappointed at humanity, but you held back your aggressiveness and just kept smiling at them.

“‘Can I request something?' Not yet! I'm still going to wait a few minutes..." You answered to ‘11037kuwata' while drinking a quick sip of coffee from the cup you left laying by your computer.

kittylover123456: Beautiful 😻

theballadeer6: Hi

11037kuwata: When are we starting?

lolisonmydee: r u cosplaying

"I'm not cosplaying, but you can pretend I am!" You answered with honesty while winking at him, ignoring the other comments above that last question.

You didn't even realize you had already reached 323 viewers while reading those initial messages.

"Oh, wow! We reached 300 viewers in less than 2 minutes!" You clapped your palms together gently, trying to act excited but cute at the same time.

Men absolutely love women who act cute. No matter what's their type, if they act cute, they'll love it.

(👑) ilovey/nslives: Hello, my queen! 😍

lolisonmydee: You should cosplay tho

(👑) ilovey/nslives: Looking absolutely gorgeous tonight 🤤

The orange username caught your eye.

Ah, yes... 'I love Y/N's lives’… Probably the only man in the chat that restores your faith in the men using this site. You don’t know how he looks behind the computer screen, but he’s unrealistically kind and considerate to you.

"Oh, hello there! Thank you for the compliments!" You waved at the screen, trying to communicate with him. "Also, what characters would you recommend me to cosplay as... 'Lolis on my dee'?" You answered to the guy's message, struggling a little bit with his username, although you'd probably never cosplay in your lives anyway.

11037kuwata: Mikan Tsumiki

(👑) ilovey/nslives: l'd say Jessica Rabbit

theballadeer6: You don't need to cosplay

theballadeer6: You look beautiful like this

lolisonmydee: Kana from Dragon Maid or any lolis

Since you didn't get any of references rather than Jessica Rabbit, the only message that caught your eye were from this 'Balladeer' guy.

"You think this is enough, Balladeer?" You jokingly leaned upwards and squeezed your boobs together in a teasing way, cackling in your own afterwards since you didn’t take yourself seriously.

theballadeer6: Absolutely

user38291646: Do that again but with a dildo between them

"Thank you! I'll even start earlier because of that!" You winked at the screen and got up with your laptop in hands, placing it down in the floor.

You then walked back to your table and grabbed some materials on top of it before going back and kneeling down at the floor, angling the screen of your computer to read what happened in the chat meanwhile. Some emoji particles were already beginning to pop in the corner of the screen, meaning that people were interacting.

theballadeer6: You're welcome

cr7thegoat: put that dildo in that beautiful pussy of yours

(👑) ilovey/nslives: So kind!!

vladmirputin2028: сними свою одежду

(👑) mrdaddy900030: Am I late?

"Nope! Not at all, Mr. Daddy!" You shrugged your shoulders while beginning to undo the hooks of your bra and let it slowly slide away from your body.

You got very lucky this time because that move was executed perfect, which made the grin your face grow a few inches. To see if you’d really been successful, you decided to take another peek at the chat in the corner of your screen, wanting to see everyone’s reaction.

doinggodswork: Repent for your sins. ✝️✝️✝️✝️

(👑) ilovey/nslives: Woooohooooo! 😍

user10297373: 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

user38291646: Get fully naked already

lolisonmydee: dayum

Aside from the annoying unrequested preacher, you smiled at the other compliments you received. At the same time they made you a bit happy, deep down it still made you feel dirty to be doing this kind of work.

“‘Repent for your sins’? Sins? What sins?” You joked with the preacher, trying to gain your chat’s support to get him out of the live. “If anything, the only one sinning here is you. What is God’s messenger himself doing in this site? Watching this kind of livestream? How sinful of you…” You crossed your arms together, watching how the chat immediately turned aggressive towards him.

(👑) ilovey/nslives: Yeah!!!

(👑) ilovey/nslives: Shame on you! 🍅🍅🍅

theballadeer6: gtfo no one cares about god

(👑) mrdaddy900030: Just ignore them baby

You didn’t even know if you could call these guys that watch you human beings or living puppets. They quite literally do whatever you tell them to do as long as they get to see you naked. But at the same time you don’t have a lot of power over them either. If you ever decide you won’t be streaming anymore, none of them would ever keep supporting you. They are your providers, not yourself.

“Thank you, sweeties… I think I’ll give you guys an extra for helping me out.” You launched closer to your computer, wanting to get rid of the annoyance in the chat already.

doinggodswork: CORINTHIANS 12:21: I am afraid that when I come again my God will humble me before you, and I will be grieved over many who have sinned earlier and have not repented of the impurity, sexual sin and debauchery in which they have indulged.

doinggodswork: CORINTHIANS 12:21: I am afraid that when I come again my God will humble me before you, and I will be grieved over many who have sinned earlier and have not repented of the impurity, sexual sin and debauchery in which they have indulged.

doinggodswork: CORINTHIANS 12:21: I am afraid that when I come again my God will humble me before you, and I will be grieved over many who have sinned earlier and have not repented of the impurity, sexual sin and debauchery in which they have indulged.

theballadeer6: sthu bro

doinggodswork: CORINTHIANS 12:21: I am afraid that when I come again my God will humble me before you, and I will be grieved over many who have sinned earlier and have not repented of the impurity, sexual sin and debauchery in which they have indulged.

And… banned!

Now this guy won’t ever disrupt your lives ever again unless you choose to pity him.

“Sorry for the inconvenience, sweeties!” You scratched the back of your neck, trying to act cute again to regain their interest in you and today’s show.

(👑) ilovey/nslives: So annoying…

theballadeer6: hope he dies

user38291646: Start

This unnamed user was also a bit annoying with his impatience and rudeness, but at least you’d rather read that than some religious guy spilling nonsense just to degrade you.

“Ok.. Shall we..?” You crawled backwards towards your spot, positioning your whole body in front of the camera again while opening your arms, trying to invite and embrace all men in the chat indirectly.

You couldn’t read the chat anymore, though, meaning you’d have to guess that the chat was ready for your show.

“Alright then!” You said after a few seconds in silence, just watching new messages from new people pop in the chat faster and faster the more nudity you showed to them.

You stood up, slowly taking off your panties in a way that would certainly brick up some men if they were not hard already. Then you looked at the side and grabbed the dildo sitting in the floor, positioning it under you.

“Time to breed this pussy again…” You talked dirty to yourself, trying to replicate what they probably would want to say to you since they weren’t there in your room to do it right to your face.

And with the assistance of your hand opening your labia, you finally slid the dildo inside you, the plastic fitting around your tightness easily.

You were quick to start hopping on it since you were used to the feeling of fucking dick-like objects inside you. Both your hands were holding you back from the floor behind you so you could expose yourself erotically the most you could while being comfortable.

“Oh, it feels so good…” You moaned to yourself while pretending you were sitting the best dick in your life.

But unfortunately, your role-play was shortly cut by a sudden notification coming from your computer that you immediately recognized. The donation notification.

“User ‘@mrdaddy900030’ donated 25$!”

The artificial voice spoke out and paused for a moment, the same way you did.

“Baby, it would be a crime for you to do this like that… wasting the beautiful view we could have of your ass… I’d like to request you to turn around.”

The artificial voice spoke again, and you giggled at the message.

“Thank you for the 25 dollars, Daddy! Your wish is my command!” You smiled to the camera excitedly, using both your hands to do the peace sign before abruptly turning around, not wanting to make those precious 25 dollars feel like a waste in the slightest.

The rules of your donations were simple:

5 dollars to set your vibrator to a medium strength for 3 minutes, 10 dollars to set it the highest strength for 3 minutes too to influence the buyers to keep buying that asset over and over, 15 or above to send you a message along a vibrator command, 25 dollars to make you do something such as changing a position, taking off a layer of clothing or the camera angle and 50 dollars to command you to do whatever they wish to see you do.

Yes, you might be a little greedy with your prices and conditions, but it works. Don’t fix what’s not broken.

You were quick to unpause your hopping, beginning to moan in a high pitch to make yourself sound as good as possible to them. You also chose to singularly move your ass and legs instead of your full body, making it the most attractive thing of the screen they could see. You were also occasionally grinding on the dildo and swaying your hips to make it extra seductive, perfectly recreating the reverse cowgirl position.

And that’s how you’d continue acting for the next minutes until you either orgasmed or someone donated enough for you change your position under their command.

.

It’s hilarious, really.

She has no idea.

I can’t really blame her, I chose an unrecognizable name on purpose so she’ll never know one of her work colleagues is watching these special livestreams of hers, and that’s funny.

But now there is nothing she can do about it. I already know enough. I know how you look naked, how you moan, how you talk dirty, how your pussy stretches at the presence of a cock inside it, even if it’s not mine.

You l should be glad I don’t feel like using this little secret of yours for my advantage. Really glad.

The only advantage I’ll take from this is actually sitting back and watch these lives as much as I desire to. In fact, I can even command her to do whatever I want if I give her some money. How greedy of you, Y/N… I thought you were the kindest woman in the world but deep down you’re a leech for porn addicts… I don’t know whether I should or should not feel glad that I’m not your victim. But I won’t interfere much anyway. The less I interact with her, the less she is aware of met presence in this chat.

So that’s exactly what I do. I slowly leaned back against my chair, stretching my arms in the way and relaxing them on chair’s arms right after, eyes never leaving the screen.

You look so beautiful tonight, Y/N… If only that stupid McDonalds didn’t force us to wear those stupid hair caps so I could see this mesmerizing hair of yours every night… At least I’m glad I get to see it when you most work on it…

(👑) ilovey/nslives: Mamma Mia! 😍

user38291646: 💦💦💦

harbinger2: Hottie 🔥🔥🔥🔥

(👑) ilovey/nslives: Keep doing that for us! 🥰

funnyjokesguy: You’re as hot as fire!!

funnyjokesguy: Get it?

(👑) ilovey/nslives: Waaaaa~~ I feel blessed!!!

vladmirputin2028: Я эякулирую

Oh. My. Goodness.

Who the fuck is this guy and why the fuck does he talk like he’s a 16 year-old anime chick? Does he not realize he sounds cringe as fuck?

This must be the mother fucker who keeps stalking Y/N’s Instagram DMs. He can’t be genuinely serious with the way he types… This must be a cute facade he puts on so that Y/N can build trust with him… Too bad he’s horrible at it… and that he won’t ever beat my relationship with her.

(👑) mrdaddy900030: Shitttt I want to cum on you so bad

(👑) ilovey/nslives: If you keep riding it like that I’m gonna cum too soon!!! 😩😩

cr7thegoat: what happens if I donate you 100 dollars?

cr7thegoat: do you do this irl too?

(👑) ladyguujiyae: How late am I gentlemen?

(👑) ilovey/nslives: Later than me as expected 😎

winnerslovewinning: use your fingersssss

This guy surely knows how to ruin a party…

You know what? Sometimes bullying is the only way to fix people.

theballadeer6: bro

theballadeer6: can u sthu

theballadeer6: who tf types like that in the big 2025

(👑) ilovey/nslives: ?

(👑) ladyguujiyae: Oop-

theballadeer6: “L-Later than me as expected! Heh, these fake fans…” 🤓🤓🤓

(👑) ilovey/nslives: ???

(👑) ilovey/nslives: What’s wrong with the way I type? I’m just being kind to Y/N…

theballadeer6: everything???

(👑) ilovey/nslives: What’s everything? 😂

(👑) ilovey/nslives: Who even are you?

theballadeer6: just listen to yourself and you’ll know exactly what im talking about 💀

(👑) ilovey/nslives: Okay, tourist…

Tourist? Me?

Oh, this guy also zero notion of who I am, right?

If I’m a tourist, than he’s a random cockroach.

theballadeer6: tourist?

theballadeer6: u calling me a tourist?

(👑) ilovey/nslives: Yeah

(👑) ilovey/nslives: What’s wrong? Did I annoy you? 🥺

Annoy me? This loser really thinks he is annoying me by typing like this? The only thing he’s annoying is his mother who has to force herself to accept her middle-aged son living in her basement all day because he can’t fucking afford to live alone.

theballadeer6: no

theballadeer6: u r the annoying everyone here

theballadeer6: u r ruining a mood

harbinger2: I gotta agree I can’t beat my meat properly here

cr7thegoat: yup

(👑) ladyguujiyae: One man against the world…

Yeah, this guy is almost done for. Because, as always, I’m right.

(👑) ilovey/nslives: I really wish I would care about what you guys have to say

(👑) ilovey/nslives: But then I remembered that Y/N would rather choose a premium fan like me over 5 of you randoms that can’t afford to pay 20 dollars monthly 🤷‍♀️

(👑) ilovey/nslives: Fake fans 😂

theballadeer6: fake fan?

theballadeer6: u calling me a fake fan?

(👑) ilovey/nslives: Begone, tourists!

theballadeer6: im y/n’s number 1 fan buddy

garrykafka0275: You. Look beautiful..

angelofdawn: Can y’all sthu

(👑) ilovey/nslives: Of course I’m calling you a fake fan

(👑) ilovey/nslives: After all, you ARE one 🫵😂

theballadeer6: who do u think u are? 💀

(👑) ilovey/nslives: Y/N’s ACTUAL number 1 fan, duh

(👑) ilovey/nslives: Cuz if you really were all that, why don’t you have premium, hmmmm?

theballadeer6: that ain’t any of your business

(👑) ilovey/nslives: So you really are a tourist 🫵😂

theballadeer6: shut the fuck up

theballadeer6: u know nothing about me

(👑) ilovey/nslives: I surely know you are a tourist

(👑) mrdaddy900030: Can you two kids stop?

(👑) ladyguujiyae: Clock it!

theballadeer6: oh yeah?

theballadeer6: u really think you are all that?

theballadeer6: lemme show you smth really fun

(👑) ilovey/nslives: T-O-U-R-I-S-T

(👑) ladyguujiyae: And he went off…

lolisonmydee: finally bruh

lolisonmydee: y’all annoying asf

(👑) mrdaddy900030: This generation…

.

Jesus, vibrators really lost their charm to you, haven’t they? Thank God you were forced to turn backwards because this would be extra boring if you’d have to force yourself to express a pleasure you weren’t feeling. At least, in the position you were, all you had to do was open your mouth to occasionally moan or talk dirty to yourself, then you could just zone out.

Maybe this demotivation is affecting your performance… All donations your computer alerted you about yet were about were all the cheaper ones of 5 to 10 dollars. Maybe you should really just start overacting if that’ll get new people to buy your products or to convince your consumers like Mr. Daddy to buy more things aga—

“(Ding, ding, ding!) User ‘theballadeer6’ has become a premium viewer of the channel!”

Your head abruptly turned to the computer as soon as you heard those dings. When you saw the colorful announcement popping up in the screen and shining with multiple particles, especially crown emojis, your eyes shone in happiness.

“Aaaah! Thank you so much, Balladeer!” You said while turning around to make cute gestures such as putting your palms together and slightly clapping your fingers repeatedly. “I hope you have a lot of fun with my premium content and that you stay tuned for more!” You purposefully made your voice sound cuter than usual while saying that.

After all, you have to make good impressions to keep these men paying you monthly. But the show couldn’t stop, so you spun around your spot again and faced the same white wall you previously were. You breathed in and out. You only have about an hour left to perform… You can do it.

(👑) theballadeer6: AM I A FAKE FAN NOW HUH????

(👑) theballadeer6: WHERE R U

(👑) theballadeer6: FUCKING PUSSY

(👑) ladyguujiyae: Oh lord here we go…

(👑) ilovey/nslives: Oh wow you did the bare minimum…

winnerslovewinning: Men ☕️

(👑) ladyguujiyae: Real

(👑) ladyguujiyae: I feel like a female bull watching two male bulls fighting for me rn

(👑) theballadeer6: BARE MINIMUM?

(👑) theballadeer6: YOU’RE THE ONE DOING THE BARE MINIMUM

(👑) theballadeer6: R U FUCKING MENTAL??

lolisonmydee: y’all should just kys

winnerslovewinning: They should kiss

justalittleponyboy: I can’t believe I’m forcing myself to come here rn but

justalittleponyboy: For fuck’s sake just take it to DMs

justalittleponyboy: We all just want to watch some porn

justalittleponyboy: So like

justalittleponyboy: SHUTTTTTTT UPPPPPPP

(👑) ilovey/nslives: Lmao

(👑) ilovey/nslives: Do you think this is all I have?

(👑) ilovey/nslives: If only I could send screenshots of my DMs with Y/N here…

(👑) ilovey/nslives: It’s safe to say we’re dating at this point

(👑) ilovey/nslives: And that’s because I’m not counting all the money I’ve spent

(👑) ilovey/nslives: Wowwwww you spent 20 dollars on her!!! I’ve probably spent more than 500 bucks on her 😂

(👑) mrdaddy900030: Then you’re technically not the biggest spender. I am.

(👑) theballadeer6: STFU

(👑) theballadeer6: NO ONE CALLED YOU HERE OLD FUCKING HAG

garrykafka0275: These. kids…

justalittleponyboy: Y’all are just taking advantage of Y/N

justalittleponyboy: She will mute the both of you in the end.

(👑) ilovey/nslives: Ownnnnn… Look at him! He’s hurt! 🥺

(👑) theballadeer6: IM NOT HURT YOU FUCKING STUPID

(👑) theballadeer6: IM JUST TELLING YOU THE FUCKING TRUTH

(👑) theballadeer6: Y/N DOESN’T LIKE YOU

(👑) theballadeer6: U R NOTHING COMPARED TO ME

(👑) theballadeer6: NOTHING

(👑) theballadeer6: NONE OF Y’ALL ARE “REAL FANS”

justalittleponyboy: 🙄

(👑) ilovey/nslives: If Y/N ever starts doing these service irl you know who to thank

(👑) theballadeer6: SHE WOULD NEVER DO IRL SERVICES

winnerslovewinning: Have y’all ever stopped to think that maybe Y/N isn’t even straight in the first place

(👑) ladyguujiyae: Yeah no Y/N isn’t for the women…

(👑) ladyguujiyae: But I am

winnerslovewinning: Oh?

winnerslovewinning: DMs?

(👑) ladyguujiyae: After this live 😉

lolisonmydee: Get out of here yuritards

(👑) ladyguujiyae: Says the lolicon

winnerslovewinning: Shut up male

(👑) ilovey/nslives: Maybe she would start it because some people ACTUALLY give her all the money she wants for it unlike some people…

(👑) theballadeer6: OHHHHHHH YOU REALLY THINK YOURE ALL THAT JUST BECAUSE OF SOME BUCKS

(👑) theballadeer6: DO YOU THINK SHE’D EVER LAY DOWN WITH A DISGUSTING 40 YEAR OLD CHRONICALLY ONLINE CREEP LIKE YOU?

(👑) ladyguujiyae: Oh wow

(👑) theballadeer6: EVEN IF SHE DID START DOING IRL SERVICES I’D BE TEN TIMES AHEAD OF U IN THE LINE

(👑) theballadeer6: FUCKING LOSER

(👑) theballadeer6: IF MONEY MATTERS TO U THIS MUCH THEN THAT’S HOW WE WILL FUCKING PLAY

.

Scaramouche, fuming and grunting in pure stress, closed the chat tab to not get annoyed anymore and went directly to the “Donate” button in your screen, almost breaking his mouse when he clicked it. He was so mad with this guy that not even the view of you could calm him down. So mad he was barely holding himself from either destroying his own computer or beat himself up.

.

Meanwhile, you still bounced up and down on the dildo with a bored face, trying to calculate how much you’ve gained yet tonight to distract yourself from the shallowness of your performance. You believe you’ve gotten three 5-dollar donations and 2 10-dollar donations, which eventually add up to 35 dollars. Adding this up with the singular donations of 25 dollars from of your premium viewers, you get 60 dollars in total.

Damn. For an unpopular streamer that didn’t even get to cum once yet, you’d done quite some bucks… You know what? It’s not better not to think so positively about it, or else you might jinx—

“User ‘@theballadeer6’ donated 200$!”

Huh?

Two… hundred?

No, you must be hearing things.

You looked backwards immediately, meeting the decorated pop-up that alarmed the donation telling you what exactly you heard. Two-hundred dollars. A number two and two perfect zeroes sided to each other with no comma in between. Even if you were witnessing it, you still didn’t want to believe your own eyes. So you blinked once, then twice, then another time, but the number wouldn’t lose any of its zeroes.

“Two… Two hundred?! Oh, my God! Thank you so much, Balladeer! This really means a lot to—!”

“THERE YOU FUCKING GO YOU FUCKING WORM. IS THIS ENOUGH FOR YOU?! NOW DO YOU SEE WHO IS THE REAL FAN BETWEEN US OR DO YOU WANT MORE FUCKING PROOF?! BECAUSE I CAN GIVE YOU MORE. I KNOW Y/N’s NAME, HER FULL NAME, WHO HER PARENTS ARE, WHO HER SISTER IS, WHERE SHE WORKS, HER HOME ADDRESS AND EVEN THE NAME OF HER FUCKING CAT.”

…

…

…

…

…

What..?

Your smile died, not understanding at all what the message meant. You looked to the chat, meeting many caps-locked messages from the Balladeer guy and from other people too.

(👑) ladyguujiyae: What the fuck

(👑) ilovey/nslives: Ew?

(👑) mrdaddy900030: Y/N, I think you should end the stream.

winnerslovewinning: Men 🤦‍♀️

(👑) theballadeer6: IS THIS ENOUGH FOR YOU? DO YOU SEE THE TRUTH NOW?

Was this guy… talking to you?

“I…” You tried answering him but you just simply couldn’t form any phrase that made sense.

Your right hand reached your mouse and started scrolling up, meeting much more caps-locked texts that gave you better context of that message. It was a fight, one they’ve done while you weren’t looking. How naive of you. Your heart slowly twisted in disgust and fear for your life, your throat trying to push something out of it… vomit.

What is this? Who is this guy? Why is he doing this? Is his message true? Does he know who you are? Is this that Instagram stalker that always finds a way to contact you over and over again? Has he made this much progress?

You didn’t know how you looked to the people seeing you, but you knew it wasn’t pretty. You knew you were giving an ugly image of yourself almost panicking like that.

justalittleponyboy: Yeah Y/N just ban these weirdos from your chat

This guy was smart. He was thinking the same thing as you. Your “biggest fan” apparently was a victim of this Balladeer guy’s rage, meaning it’d only be fair to ban the Balladeer and perhaps mute your “biggest fan” to make sure this isn’t brought up to the stream anymore.

But should you really ban this guy? He just gave you 200 dollars, and this was his first stream of you. He’s creepy, he’s one of the most bizarre men you’ve ever seen yet, but reading the fight that happened in your absence, all he seemed to be was to be a bit too possessive of you.

Remember how he praised you in the beginning of the livestream? He wasn’t rude or aggressive to you, only them. Was he really a stalker? Specifically the one in your Instagram? Or just a really dedicated fan? In the chat he seemed to still be trying to convince your “biggest fan” that the title belongs to him instead while indirectly apologizing to you. Maybe… it isn’t worth to lose those monthly 20 dollars… Not when you need that money so much.

Your life isn’t cheap. Even if you can handle your conditions the way they are, you still desire more money. You want to have a comfortable life after retirement and you want to especially show your family you aren’t little. You aren’t worthless despite this second job of yours. You want them to have zero false pity for you.

So… you won’t ban him. If he suddenly becomes a less prominent spender, then you’ll definitely ban him, but if he keeps spending this much money on you… you can’t ban him. The sacrifice might be worth it.

But, you don’t even want to be naked anymore. You want to stop. You want to put on your favorite pijamas, lock your doors and windows and go to sleep. So, you quickly messed with the moderation tools in your chat and muted them both. Your “biggest fan” was muted for an hour while the Balladeer was muted for a day.

“I-I’m sorry, guys… I don’t feel comfortable continuing today’s livestream.” You quickly stated, too embarrassed to face the camera, before abruptly pulling up another tab to stream to the viewers, your ‘pause tab’.

It was a picture with a big pink-aesthetic text saying “Be right back!” with another cute and sexy picture of you in the back of it to entertain the viewers while they waited. You pulled up this screen before closing the live so you could read the last comforting messages from your normal audience while you dressed your underwear again.

(👑) ladyguujiyae: Rest well :(

lolisonmydee: bruhhh don’t let them affect you

(👑) mrdaddy900030: Stay safe Y/N

justalittleponyboy: they’re just random douchebags Y/N ignore them

harbinger2: 👋👋👋

“Thank you, guys.” You quietly spoke, trying to hold back the shake of your mouth and voice.

And finally, you clicked the red “End Livestream” button, and your viewers ceased.

.

FUCK!!!!!

FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!!!

This guy..! THIS GUY!!!

What have I done?! What the fuck was I thinking?! I fucked it up! No, no, HE fucked me up! He orchestrated me to do this! He baited me to rage to a screen and make myself look bad to Y/N!

“Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid..!” I slapped my own face over and over as I repeated those degrading words to myself.

It’s been a while since I’ve last freaked out like this and I’m surprised this triggered me to react like this. But I just can’t handle it. My Y/N working in this industry… having this kind of men following her… It’s too much. I fucking hate it. I hate it bad.

So much that my anger finally boiled up enough for me to scream. It was once and brutal, letting most of it out. It also forced my hands to move up to my head and grab my locks as if I wanted to rip them off, and I almost did. The pain of pulling my own scalp this hard made me scream harder, but it was the only way I could get rid of this itching anger without harming my materials.

I need to know Y/N’s relationship with this man. I can’t let him too close to her at all. He’s a danger to me and her and he knows it.

I’ll show him what a real fan truly is.

Taglist: @shy-ent @the-stinky-winky @bigmantiddys @goofy-ego @sasuri123 @gaboplaydespacito @thegriffinbird @alatusorrow @luminieee @toobytub @wandereryumee

Anon, I know you probably weren’t expecting a part 2 of another fic for your request but… unfortunately my Scaramouche battery is seriously running out right now and I took advantage of the fact that you said the original fic did please you a lot, so I hope this serves you too! Sorry for not making a whole new original prompt! 🙏

Don’t forget to like and comment if you liked it <3

[bonsiii-art]

Okay so this has some last of us thing as the plot is about "What if Longan lost their power the same as pitaya dragon and met Anon?"

They could be in disguise - i believe i saw an account made Longan in disguise but forgot who - and just has to BEAR with Anon's jokes!

"Are you a vegetable? Because you're a CUTE-cumber!... Get it?"

"Wanna hear a joke about pizza? Never mind it was too cheesy"

Like Longan have to bear with each and EVERY joke anon is dropping wither it's flirting or bad or a joke they don't even understand. (They don't know much about cookie world your honor they're somehow still a baby).

But with time Longan start, in their own way showing interest - or just trying to find a way to make hearing the 'jokes' more bearable - to the lines and anon themselves.

"Baker trade bread recipes on knead-to-know basis-"

"I get it" longan answers coldly as they walk besides them.

They answer to anon and even asks showing progress in their unknown bond

"A backward poet writes 'In verse'-"

"You don't sound like you get it"

"...sadly i don't 😭"

And after time spending together, Longan start to find some positive - hardly can be called "joy" if it's not offing cookies - things based on hearing the jokes/puns.

"I used to be addicted to soap, but am clean now"

"... Not bad"

Ending:

I thought as a bad end if anon helped longan regain their power back and passed away helping, Longan would keep their joke book with them and read it from time to time. If the book got rugged from age they'll either memorize it or write it in a scroll to keep it for the future generations. (Extra points if Longan was reading some jokes/puns on Anon's grave).

Extra scene:

Remember in my previous ask i said i was listening to "flare" right? The very few seconds it start with us hearing "If you're a vegetable you'd be a CUTE-cumber". I thought: what if anon was offed by an enemy and Longan had this sentence played in their mind over and over since it's anon's favorite line to drop on them.

And as the song builds up, we see Longan just glaring at the enemy who took Anon's life prepare to make them vanish!

I LOVE THIS like I'm imagining this as if it happens after Longan gets eventually defeated at the end of the dragon story. So anon finds someone injured near their home, gets them fixed up and takes care of them till they get better. In the meantime, Longan's gotta make do with no sorcery and no future sight. Just standoffish and awkward >:P

Them getting used to Anon's puns are so cuuute!! (o′┏▽┓｀o) Longan going from completely ignoring them to actually giving a response because now they're actually listening to their cookie companion! I imagine Anon trying to make jokes about dragons doesn't land with Longan (Disrespect by a cookie about their kin, no matter how lighthearted is especially offending to them) so they avoid those. But- " Y'know, something I heard about the Ivory Dragon..." " ! " " Many people got turned into statues by them but the ones who met the dragon and survived say that they were really... ...stone-faced." ".........." " ...Yeah, sorry, that was dark." Longan in their head is just like " That was pretty good."

That ending is so good, I love me that angst. It hurts so good. 〜(￣▽￣〜) I wanna add to that by saying that what if Anon during their time with Longan, made it their personal goal to try and make the dragon laugh? But they died before they ever could. So when Longan is copying the puns into a scroll, they get that sudden moment of realization that here they are, trying to preserve a cookie's legacy, writing down their bad jokes into draconic paper. And they laugh harder than they ever had before ~~like that one pedro pascal gif.~~ It's so laughable and it's so bitter, it hurts their heart.

Also listened to that song and YEEEA I get what you're putting down!! The scenario is perfect with that build up! Also, the tune is pretty good, I like it! :P

[nooneelsecomesclose17]

So, I don't think we're going to get this, but that just means someone needs to write it! So here goes.

*****

It had been on the mat when they'd got back from their weekend. John hadn't noticed, too happy after their weekend in Rhyl to notice anything, but Aaron knew what it was and stuffed it in his pocket. He'd decide what to do with it later.

"You alright?" John slides a hand around his waist.

"Just tired. Shouldn't you be getting ready for work." He turned to face him, trying to keep the smile on his face and not think about the prison letter burning a hole in his pocket. "Unless you want to stay home with me all day."

"Can't let Liam down, he needs me. How about instead you meet me for lunch in the pub. My treat."

"You really want to spend time with my mother the day we come back from honeymoon?"

"I like your mum. Come on, it'll save cooking." He nods and then he's gone, slamming the door as he goes.

He doesn't open it right away, tells himself to just ignore it, that Robert had known what he was doing, and what the consequences were, and he wasn't Aaron's problem anymore. So why couldn't he throw it away, why did he keep looking at it.

He's still doing it when he's waiting for John in the garden at the back of the pub, looking at Grace's garden that he and Robert helped to build. Sometimes he wishes he'd stayed away, where there were no memories to hit him at every turn. But then he would never have met John.

"You don't look like a man who just came back from his honeymoon." He rolls his eyes as Mack sits down beside him, beer slopping out of his glass onto the table. "Ooh, a letter, anything interesting?"

"Just junk."

"Always carry your junk mail around with you, do you."

"Anyone ever tell you you're annoying."

"Many many people. So, go on, what is it."

"A prison visiting order, or at least I think so." He glances behind him, the last thing he needs is his Mum earwigging and telling the whole village.

"Right..."

"From Robert."

"Ah. Well I guess he doesn't have many people to send them to."

"After what he did, why does he think I want this?"

"So chuck it and forget about him. Unless...you don't want to."

"Of course I do. I married John didn't I."

"Sadly yes." He doesn't even have to look over at him. "Sorry sorry. I'm just messing. Still doesn't answer my question about why you're fondling that envelope like it's a long lost lover."

"And to think you were meant to be my best man."

"Says more about you than me." He sips at his beer, sighing. "I'm guessing you haven't told hubby."

"He had to rush to work."

"Sure. Well you've got two choices. You can throw it away, forget all about Robert Sugden which will be hard as you're married to his brother and all, or you can mope about for days before finally deciding to visit him and see what he wants."

"I know what he wants. Me."

"Man obviously has no taste. You already know what you're going to do so I say get it over with."

"I'm meant to be meeting John." There was never really a question, he could fight it as much as he liked, he would never leave Robert alone in prison and wasn't that the whole sticking point in the first place.

"I'll tell him you got called out on an emergency scrap run."

"Just that, none of your dramatics. Tell him I'll meet him for tea instead." He insists as he gets up from the stool.

"You're doing the right thing you know."

"You don't even know Robert."

"For you, idiot. Now go on, before you change your mind and we have to do this all over again. You're making my pint go flat."

He doesn't think twice, gets in the car before he can change his mind.

[thetruequeenoftheabyss]

Its mermay and I have brain worms about these three. (If you see typos in the writing no you do not)

V's design is largley based on Rio from the show although I will be the first to admit I don't know anything about waveriders lore wise (do they even come from the ocean idk and idc)

I choose the mimic octopus for Mel because in the show Le blanc calls her an empath and for some reason in my brain that meant she should be able to shapshift and mimic things or something.

Jayce doen't get fish privlages because I think its funny. (also becasue in my mind piltover would be the land and zaun would be the ocean and since mel is form noxus is the company that ambess runs thats poluting the ocean or whatever)

More ramblings and the sketches for this under the cut

Piltover is a costal nation known for their ocean exports

Zaun is a secret underwater nation of mers

all mers have magic but to varring degrees

going to the surface and interacting with humans is forbbiden due to the dangers of humanity and the fact that they keep poluting the oceans

Noxus is a weapons manufacting company spearheaded by Ambessa Medarda, she has an unusal obession with the ocean and insists on building her factories on the coastal islands surrounding Piltover

Jayce comes to piltover to research the reefs and the wild waveriders found there, secretly he's there becasue as a child he was saved from drowning by a mysterious force while on a family vaction

As a kid he was obsees with the idea of merpople and magic but all he has as "proof" is an unusually shiny scale from the encounter, he wears it around his wrist constantly

He learned to hide his true motivations after being shunned by the scientific community

the only ones hes even mentioned it to in years are Cait, Mel, and his mysterious new friend viktor whom he met after moving ot piltover

He's friends with Mel from collage where they were on the student council together and is the one to call her when he notices sus activity regarding her mothers activites on the ocean and odd corraltions with the growing polution in the surrounding reefs

Viktor had been illegaly sneaking to the surface to research humans and their technology when her runs into jayce and is immediatly facinated by this human, he of course, knows jayce is right about mers and magic, but hides his identity for safety reasons

Jayce is the one to intoduce Mel and Viktor and that meeting triggers Mels own realzations about her mer abilites

Viktor is quick to explain the dangers of ocean life to Mel and cautions her against telling Jayce despite the affections they bothe seem to share for the human

Mel and Vik realise that her mother is up to more than just shady busniness practicaces and is activly posioning the ocean in order to drive the mers out of hiding so she can harness the magic for herself

(Hense why mel has a merform idk if Ambessa just made a shady deal with a seawitch or if she got sum of that fish dick but yeah shes got a magic daughter now)

Shenanigans ensue with Mel and Vik trying to dismantel Ambessa all while keeping Jayce oblivious and safe

Cait probably gets roped into things via Jayce being like "Sprouttttt my two really hot friends who i'm definatly not in love with are hiding something from me do you think they hate me 🥺" and Cait is like "well now I gotta pull up becaue you're really smart when it comes to fish and really dumb about situational observation so clearly there is somehting bigger happening"

She ends up meeting Vi because Vi followed her rebelious sister jinx/powder to the surface and ended up getting arrested by surface police and forced to stay on land for stupid reasons

Vi ends up revealing Zaun to both Cait and by proxy Jayce (get some booksteet duo in there) and Jayce ends up feeling hurt by the fact that nither Mel nor Viktor trusted him enough to share this with him

Meanwhile MelVik are both sweating like damn we fucked up

Idk what happens after that or how any otf this resolves but somehow everybody gets a happy ending and Jacye gets fish wife and fish husband and Cait also gets a fish wife and Vi reunites with her sister and everybody lives and everybody is happy

[chlosallow]

𓂃˖ ࣪⊹ introducing... overthinker!reader

star, esther. 19. જ⁀➴

long hair. hypersensitive. never sleeps. stargazing. big eyes. cries when angry. feels everything deeply. keeps polaroids in her phone case. music - lana del rey. likes reassurance. listener instead of yapper. likes being wrapped in blankets. likes to write her feelings. reader. likes sitting with a pillow on her lap. very observant. gift giver. fidgets with her jewelry. star gazing.

𓂃˖ ࣪⊹ closed-off!chris

chris, christopher. 20. જ⁀➴

whispers when he’s sad or nervous. very hesitant when touching her. can’t text in one message. makes sure she feels seen. always hides his face in his pillow when he cries. talks with his hands. when he smiles his eyes crinkle. stutters when he’s excited. always ask before doing anything sexual, even if she’s said yes multiple times in the past.

you are my star.

"you never talk to me. it's like i'm dating a ghost at times." she murmurs, feeling her throat burn up with the urge to cry. she barely holds her tears back as she stares down at the pillow in her lap.

chris just stares forward as he sits on the other side of the couch. he blinks a few times, swallowing hard as he lets out a breath.

what was there to say? i'm sorry? it's just the way i'm wired?

there was nothing to say.

she slowly turns her head to look at chris only to shake her head. her fingers move to her silver hoop earrings, fidgeting with them. she can't help but to feel her eyes start to water, her mind playing tricks on her.

she knew chris loved her. it was obvious with the way he looked at her or with the gifts he had gotten her when she doesn't even remember telling him that she wanted it.

chris feels her eyes on him and slowly turns to look at her, hating the way her eyes looked when they locked eyes. they were red and filled with tears, the occasional tears falling down her cheeks at times.

he doesn't like talking about his feelings like this. he hates it. hates admitting how much she has affected him. hates seeing her cry because of him.

"i- star i'm sorry. i'm sorry, okay? i try my hardest for you. i really do." he says, trying not to repeat himself or stutter too much. his hands move to tap on his knee repeatedly, his leg bouncing.

she looks away quickly as she hears him stutter, shaking her head to try and convince herself that she was being dramatic. she was just a big sensitive baby.

he lets out a sigh, rubbing his hands down his face before shifting closer to her, sitting right next to her. he slowly moves his hand up to wrap around her shoulders but hesitates, his hand hovering over her. she could feel his hand over her shoulder but doesn't say anything, just nodding.

he lets out a relieved breath and slowly lowers his hand onto her shoulder, pulling her closer to his side, her head falling onto his shoulder.

"star.. baby.. you mean the world to me and- and i know i can be better with my words and how i treat you sometimes. i understand that. i'm trying my hardest though."

she slowly looks up at him, her eyes softening as tears fall down her cheeks. chris brings his free hand to cup her cheek and shakes his head, his thumb wiping her wet cheeks.

"you are the star in my life sweetheart. and i wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you. so please.. please believe me when i say i'm trying my best for you. to learn how to be the best person you deserve. to be your star."

[robinvomit]

[ simple. ]

you've been hunched over the blueprints for thirty solid minutes, eyes straining and head throbbing. you've threatened to set them on fire at least three times and of course, the answer is always "that probably won't help" or "uh.. no?"

bart's perched beside you on the edge of the roof like he's about to vibrate through the damn concrete. he's tried looking at the blueprints and even he can't seem to figure out a good route. he hasn't said anything in a while, not outside of reluctantly not letting you commit arson, but you can feel him watching. shifting. thinking too fast for the space you're in. not saying what really crosses through his jumbled thoughts.

"i don't know," you finally groan, eyebrows pulling together. "this is pissing me off. is this place impenetrable or something?"

he nods like he's been waiting for that. he has. "yeah, it's garbage. want me to knock the building down?"

you think about it, genuinely, for a solid minute. you weigh the consequences, think of how much you don't want to deal with the lecture from other seasoned heroes and whatnot. "....i want you to.. but, no."

he shrugs, head tilting. "figured i'd offer."

you sigh and rub your face, trying not to shout up at the sky and ask for help from some invisible entity. when you glance over at him, he's sitting sideways now, one leg bouncing, hair an absolute wind tousled mess, attention locked fully on you.

you shift your weight, glance back to the blueprints, then sigh. "well, i'm just going to keep getting more pissed off, you can't figure it out, no one is around to help, so.. wanna make out about it?"

bart doesn't flinch. doesn't stutter. just tilts his head again, the opposite way, and asks, entirely serious: "now or after we take out the guards?"

"wait, what?" you can't help but laugh a little. you're pretty used to his bluntness, the way nothing really phases him on the outside. "...are you being serious?"

"yeah," he says, flat as always. "you look mad. you are mad. i like your mouth. kissings a decent override for stress hormones. plus it's... y'know. fun. why would i say no?"

he's already leaning, one hand braced against the concrete of the ledge, absolutely ready to follow through unless you tell him not to, which never even crossed your mind. he's not embarrassed, you're pretty sure he's not even capable of that unless it's under certain circumstances, he's just earnest. unflinching. like affection is one of the things he doesn't actually have to process but he sees as truth; you want to kiss him. he wants to kiss you back. that simple.

[ please remember i write v1 bart allen — don't knock my inbox over bc you think it's mischaracterized. ]

[emonaculate]

Emon babbles II...

Woah... you guys loved the first drabble, huh? Honestly, I'm a little shocked at how well it did, considering I only had bits and pieces of a story. Thank you for all the support! I do appreciate all the feedback! Let me know if you'd like a full-fledged fic out of this, or if you'd prefer the drabble format.

Bandmate!Gojo x Readerــــــــﮩ٨ـ

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo, who is five months out from the infamous Welcome Home Palooza, sits alone in the dim glow of Studio C—his favorite room to rot in nowadays. Being alone in a studio is a hell of a lot easier than interacting with people.

The walls are padded in midnight blue, the air heavy with old smoke and the hum of equipment left on standby. The only light comes from a single desk lamp that flickers sometimes, like even it doesn’t know how to stay steady.

His guitar rests against his thigh, glistening as it mocks him. He plays the same three chords. Again. And again. And again. The tempo is off. The bridge won’t land. The chorus feels cheap. Everything he writes sounds like someone else wrote it. Someone who is trying to make a cheap, straight-to-retail stores' radio cash grab.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo, who is supposed to be introducing a brand-new song at their biggest show for long-term fans who actually KNOW what his music is supposed to sound like.

A homecoming. A resurrection. Or a slow, public execution. He can’t tell which.

The deadlines are crawling closer. The pressure is a weight in his chest. This is the first palooza he has ever had to do with Geto. Maybe, that's why its so hard for him to come up with new material. He stares at the notebook sitting beside him—blank, accusing, waiting. He’s written nothing. He doesn’t even have a title. Just a looping mess of sounds that refuse to mean anything.

Where the hell do you even start when everything already feels like the ending?

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojostrums the strings harder. Wrong. All wrong. The riff comes out ugly. He stops. Breathes in. Breathes out. Counts to four. Still wrong. He closes his eyes and leans back in the chair, head tilted toward the ceiling, waiting for the drop of something—inspiration, maybe. Grace. A ghost. Or maybe for the ceiling to collapse and kill him.

However he is only met with the response of silence. Then—his phone buzzes. He knows it's Shoko. She's the only one who checks on him anymore. She pretends to not care, but she has always been in his corner... even when he doesn't deserve it.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo doesn’t want to answer. He wants to let it go to voicemail. But considering he has gotten no where in the past three hours, he might as well. Not like he has anything better going on. He presses accept and stays quiet.

“Still hunched over in that studio?” she asks. No preamble.

“Still smoking those cancer sticks?” he fires back.

A pause. The kind that says you win this round, bitch.

“I’ve got news,” she sighs. “About Y/n”

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo feels his jaw twitch. He says nothing. She had been an enigma in his mind since they had played together. He thought about how he looked at her and all he saw was Geto. He remembered the feeling of his heart rate spiking and palms growing sweaty as she removed the blindfold, ruining the illusion. There was something about the way she really looked at him afterwards. Like actually looked. Saw him. He panicked and bolted out of the room.

Shoko knows that silence. She keeps going.

“Execs said no. She’s out. Too new. Too unpolished. Not marketable enough. They used a lot of words to say ‘we’re scared of taking risks.’ You know the drill.”

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo doesn't answer at first. Not because he doesn’t have anything to say—but because he has too much. Y/n's playing has been stuck in his head since the audition like a melody with no name. He remembers the shape of her confidence. The fire in her voice when she said she could keep up with him—blindfolded. She turned Charmolypi into a conversation without knowing the history.

And now, just like that, he lost Geto all over again. I mean a new bassist. His grip tightens on the guitar neck until his knuckles pale.

“Say something,” Shoko pleads. “Or throw something. I don’t care. Just don’t sit there shutting me out again. ”

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo lifts the guitar again. Plays the same three chords. They don't sound real anymore with how many times he has replayed them..

“Did they give a reason?” he mutters.

“I told you. Image. PR. All bullshit.” She pauses, then adds carefully, “They don’t think she fits our sound.”

Gojo snorts. “She was our sound.”

Another beat of silence.

“You gonna fight this?” she asks.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo doesn’t know. He wants to. But there’s something heavy hanging over it all—something rooted in the song he hasn’t finished and the person he hasn’t forgiven. Y/N reminded him of Geto, that was undeniable. Obviously, not in the way she looked, or talked. But in the way she made music feel like it still meant something. Like it could still save something.

But maybe Gojo doesn’t want to be saved. Maybe he was scared to try and push for this girl to join his band because he wasn't sure if he'd be able to push aside the fact that all he saw when he looked at her was his ex-lover. His bestfriend. The one that got away. What if that line blurred and he did something terrible? Ruined another person? He seemed to have a track record for ruining the good in amazing musicians.

Shoko seems to sense where his mind is drifting. “Look. You’ve got five months to write something that doesn’t sound like a eulogy. I’m just saying—maybe the thing you need to fix this… isn’t something. Maybe it’s someone.”

He doesn’t answer. He just keeps playing the same three chords, slightly slower now. Still not right.

"Just think about it. Don't forget to take a break, though." Shoko added before ending the call.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo , who gets literally kicked out of the studio by Shoko, doesn’t argue when she tosses a crumpled ball cap at his chest and jerks a thumb toward the door.

“You need air. And a damn attitude adjustment.”

He doesn’t bother lashing back. Not because he agrees with her— hell no— but because the fight feels like too much effort. Everything does lately. Maybe he should request his doctor to up his meds?

“Don’t forget the mask,” she calls after him as he walks down the hallway. “The last thing we need is another headline about your ‘mysterious public breakdown.’”

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo, who’s dressed like teenage girl who just discovered streetwear's wet dream— navy blue ball cap pulled low, oversized white jersey flapping open over a long sleeve that hides his infamous yet easily recognizable tattoos, baggy cargo pants low enough to piss off any manager on payroll, and a plain black mask pulled snug over his face— blends in for once. A nobody in the middle of a city that only cares about nobodies when they become rich ass somebodies overnight.

The moment he steps outside, L.A. wraps around him— hot pavement, the smell of gas and cigarettes, the smear of sunset like an old bruise across the sky.

His phone vibrates in his pocket.

He pulls it out, scanning a few messages. One from his agent — ignored. Two from fans who somehow got his real number again — blocked.

Then… An unfamiliar number. Just a single message.

did you really feel that threatened by how much better i am than you?

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo freezes mid-step. The corner of his mouth unknowingly twitches, almost against his will—not quite a smile, more like the idea of one. He reads the message again. He’s not used to being challenged, let alone teased this casually. He didn't even question how she managed to get his number.

It’s Y/n. Has to be.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo stares at the words, chewing them over like lyrics he hasn’t quite figured out how to sing yet. The audacity. The gall. The fact that she didn’t beg for a second chance— didn’t ask anything of him. Just hit send and dared him to deal with it.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo feels his face flush for the first time in years. God, what was he, a kid in grade school? No way he is getting flustered by a girl being this casual with him. He had snake bites and a tongue piercing for crying out loud! If he could sit through that pain, he could handle some random girl texting his phone. She's not just some random girl, though.

So what she was someone who, for the first time in forever, reminded him of why he started playing in the first place. That feeling. That fire. That ache. And it wasn’t from fame. Or fans. Or ego. It was from someone showing up and refusing to shrink beneath his shadow.

It didn't mean anything. He should ignore the text. He should block her and move on and keep pretending none of this matters. But instead, his thumbs hover over the screen. He types. Deletes. Types again.

you spelled “lucky” wrong.

He hits send before he can talk himself out of it. The reply comes quick.

bitch behavior. didn’t deny it though.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo, who now walks the block with a barely-contained laugh behind his mask, feels that same feeling stir in his ribs that he originally felt when they played together.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo, whose feet carry him aimlessly down side streets and cracked sidewalks, past tattoo parlors glowing red with neon, taco stands setting up for late-night rushes, and murals half-covered in new graffiti. It's noisy, alive — and yet, it feels like he's underwater. Everything muffled. Everyone moving too fast.

He thumbs a reply, each word deliberately careless:

deny what? that you played like a high schooler with stage fright?

But before he can hit send, he pauses. Deletes the last half. He rewrites it. Too mean.

deny what? i didn’t know confidence came with delusion these days.

He stares at it for a second. Debating. Not bad.. not too mean? Its fine. Stop over thinking it.

Then: send.

His phone buzzes back within seconds.

says the guy who couldn’t even look me in the eye the whole time i played. what’s the matter, did real talent make you nervous? or am I just that breathtaking?

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo actually stops walking this time, standing in the yellow glow of a flickering streetlamp. Is she flirting or mocking him? A couple passes him on the sidewalk, laughing softly as they brush hands. He doesn't move, doesn’t even notice.

There’s a subtle tightening in his chest. Not pain, exactly. More like friction. Pressure. Get a grip, you're Gojo Satoru. Worldwide superstar. Not some loser who has never felt the touch of a woman before. You don't like this girl; you like the fact that she reminds you of who you lost. Nothing more.

says the girl who was about to cry because her pinky slipped off the E string? don’t act like you didn’t flinch when i raised my voice. tough girls don’t blink.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo regrets the last sentence the moment it sends. Way too mean. Too much like the version of him Shoko keeps threatening to drag to therapy. But it’s already out there. Her reply takes longer this time. Five minutes. Then ten. He starts walking again, slower now. He cuts across a parking lot and sits on the edge of a short wall, staring out at the blur of headlights streaming down the street.

Finally, her response comes.

you’re right. i did flinch. because you reminded me what failure looks like. and i don’t want to end up like you. damn near passed out at the mere thought.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo, who has been called a genius, a god, a generational talent, sits in stunned silence, phone glowing back at him as if he looked hard enough, the message would rewrite itself into something more pleasant.

He blinks once. Twice. Then, he smiles. Not the cocky smirk, not the fake stage-grin. A real one. Twisted, bitter, maybe a little impressed.

ok. fine. show me how not to end up like me then.

The three dots bounce on his screen. Typing. Stopping. Typing again. But no reply comes. He leans back on his hands, looking up at the sky, the city lights washing out the stars. For the first time in months, he’s not thinking about Geto. Not about the way things fell apart. Not about how he ruined the relationship with the person he cared about most. Just about a girl who called him a bitch and made him want to pick up his guitar again— not to be better than anyone else. But to prove he still could.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo, phone screen dims. Thirty minutes pass. Still no reply. He doesn’t like that.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo doesn’t like being the one left hanging. He’s the cliff, not the one dangling from it. The back-and-forth was fun. Sharp. Flirty without trying to be. But now that it’s quiet, all the self-assuredness he wears like cologne starts to wear thin. He checks the signal on his phone like it’s the service’s fault.

Then— buzz.

A message. No words. Just a location pin. A blue dot blinking somewhere less than a mile from where he’s perched.

wtf does that mean. hello? you forget how to type? are you luring me out to kill me bc ngl, i’d respect that.

No response. Gojo stares at the location again. He shouldn’t go. He won’t go. It’s probably just a flex. A test. A trap. ...So why is he already walking with the GPS pulled up?

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo, who has slipped through hundreds of backdoors in venues across the world, now walks quietly, alone, on side streets lit with strings of warm lights and the occasional flickering sign. He follows the map. It leads him to a small café tucked between a yoga studio and an old comic shop. The kind of place with mismatched tables and a chalkboard sign outside that says OPEN MIC / LOCAL TALENT NIGHT in scrawled white letters. It’s packed. People are standing shoulder to shoulder, heads tilted toward a small stage in the back, where a single spotlight beams down like a soft halo.

He doesn’t need to ask where she is.

Because there, in the middle of that warmth and color and attention, is Y/n. Alone onstage. No band. No fanfare. Just her bass slung low, her fingers moving with casual, devastating control. Her eyes are wide as she plays with a fever he couldn't describe. Her body swaying to a rhythm that doesn’t seem rehearsed, but lived in.

And the sound—God. Even her voice is pretty. It’s fluid. Gritty. Intimate. Full of breathless pauses and surprise riffs . She’s not showing off—not technically. She’s telling a story. And the crowd? They're caught in her gravity. No phones out. No talking. Just listening. She plucks a run of notes, and Gojo feels them.

Somewhere in his ribs. That little space between ache and awe. He leans against the doorframe in the back, hidden by shadows. Watching.

Y/N glances up mid-song, and for a second, her eyes flicker to the back of the room. He swears she sees him. But she doesn’t stop. Doesn’t smirk. Doesn’t flinch.

Just presses deeper into the melody like it’s a challenge, and Gojo swears he can hear it in the way her fingers shift: “You came.”

And something in his chest replies— “Yeah.”

The final note hums like the last breath of a storm. Y/n lets it hang, vibrating in the air for one extra beat before she slowly lifts her hand off the strings. No flourish. No bow. Just a nod— like that performance was for her, not them. Applause erupts, sudden and full-bodied. Gojo watches her give a tight smile to the crowd, say something polite into the mic, and then slip off the stage without waiting for praise.

She disappears behind a curtain for a moment. The next act sets up— two girls with matching hair clips and a shared acoustic guitar. The energy shift is immediate. But Gojo’s not watching them. Because she’s walking toward him now. Calm. Unhurried. Eyes pinned to his like she’s not even bothering to pretend this is coincidence.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo, who’s sat in green rooms with legends and walked off stage to standing ovations, suddenly feels too tall for his chair. He straightens up—too quickly— like he didn’t just get caught staring. Y/n stops in front of him and squints. Then, with all the flatness of someone pointing out a spilled drink:

"Your disguise is terrible, by the way."

Gojo blinks. “...You think so?”

She cocks her head, arms crossing. “You look like what an adolescent girl, too young to be on Tumblr, would climax over if she could dress her crush.”

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojosnorts— but behind the mask, it's more like a sharp exhale. She slides into the chair across from him. Her movements unceremonious, confident, like this was always the plan. Like he’s the one intruding on her evening.

"I’m surprised you made it," she says, flicking a glance toward the stage as the next act begins tuning.

“Only caught the end.” He says it casually, but the way his fingers tap restlessly at the edge of the table gives him away. “Didn’t think you were into open mic nights.”

“I’m not. But they’re into me.” She shrugs. “And this is the only place that’ll let me play without turning it into a PR stunt.”

She doesn’t say like your label did, but he hears it anyway.

A waitress comes by. Y/N orders with practiced ease, like she comes here often.

“Strawberry shortcake,” she says, pointing at Gojo with her thumb. “And an energy drink for me. Tall can. Yellow tropical.”

Gojo raises a brow. “Didn’t realize you knew my order.”

“I didn’t. You just look like you need something sweet to shut you up.”

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo opens his mouth to reply, but it’s gone— the wit, the snark. She’s leaned back now, arms over the chair, the dim café lights softening the edges of her face. Not smiling. Not trying to make him laugh.

Just looking at him. And it’s so unsettlingly… normal and easy. The waitress disappears. The music starts again— the girls on stage begin to sing something breathy and delicate about summer and loss. They sit there, saying nothing for a moment.

Then Y/n, softly speaks; her voice as sweet and light as it was during her audition originally:

"Why’d you come, Satoru?"

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo doesn’t answer right away. Because he doesn't know what would be worse— telling her the truth… or lying. That it wasn’t about rivalry. Or pride. It was because she made him feel something. Something that he thought he'd never feel again. The presence of Geto. All when she played. He could feel Geto's touch. His smell. His laughter that could echo off the walls for miles. That would be crazy to admit. Deranged. Wrong. So instead, he shrugs. Leans back in his seat.

“Wanted to see if you were as good as your ego said.”

Y/N smirks faintly, tilting the energy drink to her lips as it arrives.

“And?”

The waitress sets the shortcake in front of him. Gojo picks up the fork, breaks off a piece of strawberry, and answers with a mouthful.

"...You’re better."

They sit together for longer than they probably should.

A steady stream of local talent drifts on and off the stage— an indie rock duo with too much reverb, a slam poet who forgot half their lines, a jazz quartet that brought the house back to life. But Gojo only half-listens. His attention keeps drifting sideways, toward the girl sitting across from him, draining her energy drink and poking at the condensation on the side of the can like it’s more interesting than anything happening on stage.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo, who once sold out Narendra Modi Stadium in less than hour, can’t remember the last time he sat this still.

Y/n laughs at something the girl onstage says— a soft, bright laugh that bursts out of her without restraint. When she laughs, she laughs. Her whole body lifts like a wave cresting, shoulders bouncing, her nose crinkling as the sound fills their little corner of the cafe. And God, it hurts. Because she reminds him of him. Not just in the way her presence draws people in like gravity, though that's part of it. It’s subtler than that. Quieter. The resemblance is all in the details.

In the sharp slice of her eyebrow, like it was carved there by accident during a night too wild to remember. The small silver ring through the side of her nose, glinting under warm lights. The faint constellation of freckles that dust her cheekbones, barely there until she tips her face up to laugh.

And then there's her smile— wide, full, but with a crooked tooth that only adds to her charm. It's not perfect. Which is exactly what makes it unforgettable. She talks with her hands. Gestures big, like every word needs space to stretch. Just like Geto used to.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo feels it— the old ache, that space inside him where Suguru used to live. He thinks he’s gotten used to it by now. The hollowness. The silence. But watching Y/n from the side, it's like pressing on a bruise that never fully healed.

“Hey,” she says suddenly, voice casual, but her gaze is sharp. “You keep staring like that, and people are gonna start thinking you’re in love with me.”

He snorts. “If I were, it’d be purely out of admiration for your excellent fashion sense.”

“Oh yeah?” she leans in, feigning seriousness. “You trying to copy my look under that busted disguise?”

He grins under the mask, shaking his head. “Please. If I showed up dressed like you, I’d get mobbed.”

“Well then,” she raises her can in a mock-toast, “consider yourself lucky. No one here’s even bothered to ask if you’re the Gojo Satoru. Your anonymity’s doing great.”

“Thanks,” he says flatly. “I worked really hard to look this chopped.”

Y/N snickers and sits back, watching the next performer fumble with a mic stand. Then, after a stretch of companionable silence, she sighs.

“I’m okay with not being in the band, you know.”

Gojo’s fingers tense slightly against the table. Y/n doesn’t look at him. She just keeps watching the stage, her tone neutral.

“I knew when they brought me in, it wasn’t going to happen. You’ve got too much weight around that group. Too much grief. They want someone to fill a spot— not replace anyone. And I’m not trying to be a ghost in someone else’s place. I am my own person, y'know. ”

Her words hang heavy between them. Truthful. Unbothered. And Gojo, who’s spent months pretending he doesn’t care, finally admits — that’s exactly it. Suguru was irreplaceable. Not just because of the talent or the history. But because of who he was to all of them. To him.

And now here’s this girl: too loud, too honest, too damn talented; who won’t slot neatly into a role designed for someone long gone. Because she’s not a replacement. She’s herself. Gojo looks at her again and he doesn’t know what to say. But for once, maybe that’s okay. So instead, he nudges his plate toward her— one last bite of strawberry shortcake untouched.

“Wanna finish it?”

She looks at him, then at the cake, then back.

“Sharing sweets? You like me that much?.”

He shrugs. “Call it a peace offering.”

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo, who stands outside the little cafe, the buzz of streetlamps flickering overhead as L.A.’s night air kisses at the edges of his skin through the loose jersey he’s half-zipped. The world hums around him, but he only hears the echo of her laugh— still ringing behind his ribs like a leftover chord.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo who stands there awkwardly, one hand stuffed in his pocket, the other idly spinning the cap of his lychee soda bottle, unsure if he’s supposed to say something else—something meaningful. But Y/N’s already turning; her energy drink can tossed into a bin with a flick of her fingers.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo who watches her walk away with an effortless bounce in her step, a light skip slipping into her stride like she forgot she was supposed to play it cool.

She doesn’t look back. But he does.

He watches her—shoulders relaxed, hoodie slightly oversized, her silhouette swallowed up by the city’s amber haze. The faint clink of her bass case as it shifts against her back. That goddamn silver nose ring catching the light. The way her plump-lipped smile had lingered a little too long in his memory.

It’s nothing. It’s everything.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo, who sighs so hard it fogs up it heats up the masks he has on. He tugs it off in a fluid motion and pulls off the cap, running a hand through his now-damp hair.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo who kicks at a pebble on the sidewalk and mutters under his breath, “You’ve gotta be kidding me,” like the universe dared to give him another person who shines too bright and burns just as fast.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo, who stands still long after Y/N has disappeared from sight, feeling that annoying tug in his chest — the one that makes him clench his jaw and pretend his heart doesn’t still flinch when he thinks about Geto.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo who realizes, as he exhales and rolls his shoulders back, that he doesn’t care what the label said. Or what bullshit reason they gave. Or how complicated it might be to add her to their lineup.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojowho makes up his mind right then and there, staring into the cool L.A. night, that she’s in the band— no matter what.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo, who is a lot of things—a menace, a legend, a walking PR nightmare— but he’s not a coward.

He'll fight the execs. He'll deal with Nanami’s judgment. He’ll deal with his own aching, unresolved ghosts.

But he is not letting someone like Y/N slip away. Not when she might be the only person in five goddamn years to make music feel alive again.

And especially not when she calls him a bitch and still somehow makes him want to write a song about it.

[moraesong]

hmm...again

park jisung x female reader (ft. na jaemin)

Well, you still have feelings for Jisung...so what happens when Jaemin asks to join the two of you?

Genre: smut (with fluff and light angst)

Content: this is set in a non-idol alternative universe. once again, reader is an escort who is pining for jisung. unprotected sex, fingering, oral sex (f. and m. receiving), spitroasting, light hair pulling, creampie, riding, mention of breeding kink. fluffy/funny in some parts

Word count: 2,550 words

Author's note: This is the last thing I intend to write for the hmm series (part 1 and part 2 here). I have indicated that Jaemin is "featuring" because the reader is still focused on Jisung throughout this story, and while she likes Jaemin, she doesn't have romantic feelings for him. Just wanted to be clear about that!

It had been Jaemin's idea. Jisung didn't really know how to mention the topic to you at first, though. When he brought it up with you, he told you that he already told Jaemin that he thought you might not want to do it. 

“I don't want you to feel pressured,” Jisung had said, a serious look on his face. “But I did want to let you know that he was interested.” 

Even though Jisung was the only one for you, or perhaps precisely because of that, you had ended up agreeing. You almost feel guilty for having the thought, but part of you thinks that maybe spending time with someone else will help you take your mind off Jisung. You've met Jaemin before, and he's a fun and friendly personality, albeit with the sometimes unnerving ability to read you perfectly and a dazzling amount of beauty. You have no intention to set your heart on Jaemin—wouldn’t that just be doing the same thing all over again?—but a brief respite from thoughts about Jisung would be appreciated. 

Evidently, you were wrong to think that anything or anyone could take you away from Jisung, because even now that Jaemin's here looking at you, you're staring at Jisung. You can't help it. A thin silver necklace dangles from his neck today, and it suits him so well. And he's so so fine too…

Jaemin, who’s sitting next to you on his bed, nudges you, and now you try and pretend like you weren't staring, but he knows. He always knows. “Jisung, I think Y/N has something to say to you.” 

Jisung turns to you, a questioning look on his face. So you blurt out, “Umm, I really like your necklace today.” 

Is it too much? Do you compliment him too much? You could say more, but you don't…you’d rather be subtle. And again. You shouldn't think too hard about him…

Jisung looks down at himself and what he's wearing. He seems to understand the meaning behind your words. “Thanks,” he says.

“Well, I'm sure you two know the old saying about how if you take a picture, it'll last longer. Do you want me to take a picture of you together?” Jaemin offers. 

Oh! Huh. You weren't expecting this at all. You look at Jisung, and he shrugs. So as you’re trying to hide your inner excitement, you tell Jaemin, “Sure!”

Jaemin gets up so Jisung can take his place next to you, and you move closer to Jisung until your thighs are touching. You always get lost in the sensation of being close to him. You hesitantly sneak your hand down to Jisung’s, and he holds your hand back. You look up at Jaemin's camera and smile genuinely, happy that he'd inadvertently given you two this moment together. Then you lean your head on Jisung’s shoulder, still smiling widely.

Jaemin snaps another photo. “Aww. So cute, you two. You kind of look like a couple.”

At those words, you freeze up and start to pull your hand away from Jisung. Maybe you've been too forward with your affection for him, when really you're only here to have a good time with him in the present. The thought of that hurts your chest.

But to your surprise, Jisung holds onto your hand so you can't take it away from his. When you look at him, he sweetly assures you, “I don't mind, Y/N.”

If he keeps on being too sweet like this today, you're never going to be able to let him go.

When you look at Jaemin again, he's already taken his shirt off. Seeing his muscled arms and chest, you naturally find yourself saying to him, “Oh, you must work out a lot.”

Jaemin gives you a big grin. “Flirting with me in front of Jisung already?”

“I—I wasn't!” It makes your face burn. Why is he acting like you and Jisung are an item? You secretly wish that too, but you wouldn't dare allude to such things out loud.

“I know, Y/N. You're sweet. But, you wanna feel? It'll be our little moment.” Jaemin winks at you. You think you see Jisung roll his eyes a little bit, but he doesn't say anything.

So you approach Jaemin and carefully put your hands on him, admiring his strength and toned body. He's warm, and his muscles flex under your touch.

“You've got me excited, angel,” Jaemin says, and that really makes you blush. “You wanna touch Jisung too?”

You turn to Jisung now. Although Jaemin has a good body, it's Jisung who's perfect to you. But you don't feel the need to touch him—you’d feel a bit silly doing it, and you know him already. So you just lean in and kiss his lips, your eyes fluttering closed. (You think you hear Jaemin say “aww” again in the background, but this time you pay it no mind.)  

You'd worn a short slip dress tonight, thinking that it would be the most convenient. So now, Jisung moves his hands towards the hem of your slip. He makes eye contact with you and you nod. Then he pushes the fabric up over your hips.

You didn't wear anything underneath either, once again thinking that it would be easier. Jisung rests his palm high up on your inner thigh, and you close your legs around him, needing the friction. But as you relax more, you part them again for him, enough so he can touch your pussy.

He stretches you open gently, and you can't help but leak around his fingers, your body betraying your eagerness for him. Then he curls his fingers inside you and you tense up with the pleasure.

He gives you one long lick along the seam of your pussy, collecting your juices on his tongue. (And it's okay, since you'll make more for Jaemin.) He says he had to, since you always taste so good. Then Jisung leans down one last time to kiss your clit.

Jisung holds your legs open for Jaemin to eat you out, tongue everywhere and loud slurping filling the air. It makes your thighs tremble, but Jisung just grips you a bit tighter, holding you steady.

Jaemin is so good with his mouth that he has you squirting on his face, helpless to him. He grins at you again, lascivious this time. “There we go. Jisung didn't tell me that you could squirt.”

You want to hide your face from his gaze. But Jisung also looks as embarrassed as you feel on the inside, and he admonishes Jaemin for saying that. “Don't embarrass her like that!” 

Jaemin just laughs in response, a genuine laugh, and in that moment you find yourself thinking that he really does have a beautiful smile. But you don't get to say that to him, since he's reassuring you now that you don't need to feel embarrassed. Maybe you can tell him later at the end.

You get on your hands and knees. Jisung’s hands go to your cheeks and he spreads them apart, which opens your pussy below, giving him a good look. Your pussy’s always open for Jisung if he wants it. He can take all he wants from you, because you love when he sluts you out. You can feel Jaemin’s eyes on you, too, making you clench around nothing.

Jisung claims your pussy, big hands holding your hips as you're speared open on his cock, hot and dripping around him. You almost want to run away from how full he makes you feel, but instead you wiggle back on him to get him even deeper inside, his cock touching your deepest parts. You hear Jaemin groan at the sight.

Jisung doesn't move, though. Instead, Jaemin moves in front of you and brings his cock to your lips. You open your mouth for him, and Jisung’s hand comes to your head to guide you onto Jaemin. You obediently follow the pace that Jisung sets as he uses his other hand to hold your wrists behind your back. You like that you're completely under his power, because it makes you feel like you're his. (And you are, but that doesn't mean he's yours.)

You suck on Jaemin dutifully. Jisung's only holding your waist now, skillful hips thrusting into you. It pushes your mouth a bit further down on Jaemin, and he groans and makes a comment about how good you are.

Jaemin knows your effort and rewards you by running a soft hand through your hair. You make a sound around him and try to look up at him the best you can in this position. He smooths your hair and tucks a lock behind your ear, and the affection almost makes you shiver. 

“You like his cock, baby?” Baby. That was the first time Jisung had ever called you that, and in your heart you reply to him, please call me that again. Baby. But you're busy on Jaemin, so you can't answer. You just moan around him, because yes you do, and continue giving Jaemin everything you have.

“Better than mine?” Jisung pulls at your hair to get you off Jaemin.

With Jisung's hand still fisting your hair, you say, “No! No, yours is the best!” You squeeze tighter around him, easy for him as always.

He smirks at that and lets you go. 

When Jisung comes, he makes no effort to pull out of you. Instead, he presses your hips to his so he can be as deep inside you as he possibly can, filling up your deepest parts as he comes.

“My girl,” he murmurs, and the possessiveness only makes you more pliant for him.

But now Jaemin’s asking if you can ride him too. You mindlessly nod at that, and Jaemin notices that, assuring you to take the time to catch your breath if you need it. You're grateful for his attentiveness. Sitting beside you, Jisung's hand goes back to your hair, but now he's very soft with it, running his fingers through it in a soothing way.

“Sorry if I hurt you earlier,” he says quietly, giving you a sheepish look. “I kind of got carried away.”

You shake your head. “It's okay. You didn't hurt me.” To reassure him extra, you give Jisung a quick smooch on the cheek, and you see his cheeks get rosy at that. Getting shy from a cheek kiss after doing all that to you…he's so endearing. 

You think you're ready now for Jaemin. But…your pussy is still stuffed with Jisung's cum, so you look at Jaemin. He tells you it's fine, and beckons you to come closer. 

He puts his lips to your ear and whispers, “You should tell him how you feel.”

You lean back from him in shock, and you steal a glance at Jisung, who's been watching you intently. His face looks perfectly neutral, though, so you don't think too much of it. Should you really tell him how you feel? 

Ooh. Jaemin stretches you out. He's big too. Jisung's cum trickles out of you and onto Jaemin's body as you fully sit down on his cock. Your pussy is still tight for him even after Jisung.

“You feel so good, pretty doll,” Jaemin praises you. “I see why you like her so much, Jisung.”

Your heart perks up at those words, but you wonder if maybe now that you've started a more physical relationship with Jisung, he likes you primarily for that reason. But as long as he keeps wanting you, you'll keep giving yourself to him however you can.

As you're bouncing on Jaemin's cock, Jisung comes over to you to capture your mouth and kiss you deeply, tongue all up with yours. You're happy to be his; you're happy that he's making you his. Then, the two of you part and that leaves you free to cry out. “Jaemin!” He's hitting that best part in you perfectly, and your pussy is throbbing like crazy. The pleasure runs through your body.

Jaemin says he likes watching pretty girls like you fall apart on his cock. His hands go to your soft breasts, pushing them together and pinching at your nipples after. Then he smooths his hands down until they settle around your waist.

“Come on, keep going, doll,” he encourages you. So you do, your breasts bouncing in front of Jaemin's face.

Jaemin comes in you too, his cum mixing with Jisung's. You've now been claimed by both of them. You idly think about what it would be like if one of them knocked you up, how you wouldn't know whose baby you were bearing. But you clench at the thought of that, love the fantasy of giving them a baby. Being slutty enough to do something that would lead to this.

“What are you thinking about?” Jaemin asks you. 

“Oh. Umm, nothing really…” You try to avoid his gaze.

“I know it can't be nothing,” Jaemin jokes with you lightheartedly. “I'm sure you have a lot of thoughts in your head.”

Oh, if only Jisung knew. “I do…”

But you don't say anything more. Instead, you get off Jaemin, and the cum drips down your inner thighs. Jisung comes over to you again with a question in his eyes this time, and you look at him, confused. He reaches out and lightly presses down on you, watching as more creamy liquid leaks out from your pussy.

So, that's all. When you don your little slip dress again, Jaemin exclaims, “You know, pink is my favorite color!”

Really? You look at Jisung for confirmation, and he sighs. “Sorry about him. Don’t mind him. But yes, it's his favorite color.”

“Hey!” Jaemin raises his arm towards Jisung, pretending like he's going to hit him, and Jisung jumps back. Their silly camaraderie makes you laugh, and you feel grateful for Jaemin's presence today and how he put you at ease. 

“I don't mind! Actually, pink is also my favorite color. That's why I wore this dress.”

“Yeah, it's pretty!” Jaemin beams at you, and you smile back. He's so nice. Jisung’s friends are so nice, you think. 

Jisung asks you if you're ready to go now, but you tell him to wait. He nods and leaves the room to wait for you outside, leaving you alone with Jaemin.

“Thank you so much for today. Especially the pictures,” you say. You're not sure why, but somehow you're more nervous right now than you were at the beginning. It's probably because you just alluded to the Jisung feelings.

Jaemin hums, sorting through the items on top of his drawer. He turns around and presents you with all the Polaroid photos he took of you and Jisung. “It's no problem at all. You deserve something nice. And I meant it when I said you should tell him.” 

You graciously accept the photos from him and look at them before responding. “Yeah, you're right. I'm just not sure how or when.” 

“You'll figure it out. I believe in you,” Jaemin says. He glances at the clock and adds, “But you don't want to keep Jisung waiting now, do you? I know he's waiting for you outside.”

Yeah, he is. You thank Jaemin one last time and go, heart a little lighter.

Notes: I started writing this on April 10th, and I had written a lot of the middle part in April, but for a while, I had a lot of trouble actually finishing this. I knew I had to either finish this or give up on it, and luckily inspiration struck tonight, so I ended up rewriting, editing, and finishing this whole thing tonight. I think one reason I had trouble with this is because I sort of overcomplicated things in my head. I had also rewritten the introductory conversation multiple times, and I initially wanted it to be more elaborate and have more context, but that itself was giving me trouble. So I finally realized that I wasn't going to finish this unless I intentionally wrote this story to have minimal context, which is what I did tonight. I really wanted to finish this so I could get it out of my head, and so I could cleanly move on to thinking about other stories. I have a few ideas for stories with more plot! Thank you as always for reading! I hope I did well enough.

Credits

Dividers: by chachachannah

—hmm...again, fanfiction written by moraesong on tumblr, posted 2025

[wasteful-sam]

YOU ARE GOOD ENOUGH

Honestly, while I'm drunk, let me tell you something quick. For the last weeks, I saw a lot of posts from mutuals/users feeling insecure/not good enough about things they do and post. Even I have a similar post. And, to be honest, that's me 90% of the time. So, trust me, I know that you won't be so eager to listen and accept what I have to say. But try anyway. In my regular life, I work with content - writing, proofreading, analytics, and all that good stuff. And unfortunately, I see firsthand how the content on the internet gets turned into a mindless, senseless slop. Believe me when I tell you this - the internet will get even worse, filled with poorly masked BUYME BUYME BUYME ads in the form of articles and posts. Still, I'm not disheartened. Because when I come to Tumblr at the end of the work shift, I see you. Every art piece, every written word, every shitpost - I see a person, a creative, feeling mind behind it. YOU ARE THE BACKBONE OF THE TRUE, ALIVE INTERNET, made for people to socialize and express themselves. And it is a real beauty of life. Don't limit yourself by "what if they don't like it/what if what I do sucks?" Just do it for your own piece of mind. Have respect for your own thoughts and feelings, and don't be disheartened.

AND YES, I know, poor reception sucks. BUT, do you realize - 99% of people start with poor reception? You think writers start with writing masterpieces? Artists become Van Goghs right away? Nonononono. It's ok. It will be ok. Just LIVE and keep on doing what you love.

[cat-mermaid]

ok for like weeks i've had this fucking 4 am thought in my head and have been trying to figure out how to explain it with out writing out a whole fucking thesis

so i'm gonna really try to nutshell it the way it happened in my thoughts in the middle of the night:

huuuuuugh man the ancients (starts mind writing fanfiction that will never be written)

...huh but no, the ancients were really really thorough when they sat down and designed the Iterators. They really wanted those things bolted to the ground and unable to... oh man thats pretty much AM from "I have no mouth and i must torture the humans forever" if AM wasn't able (by design) to get pissed off about it....

...be able to upload their minds into another living organism? If it was big enough? Like a big fuck off tree? No... the ancients prob would have thought of... oooo0000OOOOOO!!!!!!!!!

*revelation*

THATS WHAT THE NEURON FLYS ARE FOR!!!!

The "Can" is the body: containing flesh and machinery, but the Neuron Flies are the "mind" of an Iterator! I mean look at what happens to Moon when you start eating her flies:

Its like the end half of Flowers for Algernon, each one you eat makes her less articulate, makes it harder for her to think

her memories, her personal memories, her personality and everything that makes her an individual is whats contained in those flies. "You killed me" doesn't mean the machine gets to stop, it just means the consciousness named "Looks to the Moon" disappears

and thats what hit me: thats how the ancients ensured that their creations could never escape their duty, never turn on them and pull a Skynet

all the computer stuff is in the structure itself, but the part of the iterator that can be directly communicated with, probably just for ease of access so you could tell it what you wanted it to do verbally and it could understand you from a place of sapience, is stored piece by piece in these things:

its like if you mind itself was a swarm of bees. After all, they are called neuron flies. Each one holds a part of you, memories, stupid personally quirks, temperament. The iterators probably have a library of information stored in their main body they can access, but the fly thing is their very selves, their egos and so on

and its insidiously genius of the ancients, your super computer's ai can't copy and paste itself into another body and amscray like in Soma. Its mind is separated into so many tiny fragile flying little usb thumb drives that it would have to be able to find a way to safely transport and shelter them in order to "leave" and fuck are there a lot of those guys swarming around inside

Neuron Flies are perfectly safe and functional as long as they are inside their iterator's can, they even have guardians called Inspectors to protect them incase any pesky critters squeeze inside for a free snack

so basically an Iterator is a biological computer built like a crab: The shell is the metal parts, what you see from the outside:

but the computer part is the meat of the crab

these are the parts that get slag build up and need water to wash out the toxins and cool it down, just like litterally you and me need water to fucking live

what i'm getting at is the absolutely impossible situation the iterators are in, a crab can't "escape" from its shell, thats part of its fucking body. Iterators are the same except with the added wrinkle of being crabs who's minds are little swarming mites deep inside their guts that need to all be kept safe

so with all this on the table, it makes so much more sense now when the iterators say "we don't die easy" because even if all their flies (the mind) get destroyed, the "body" keeps chugging on. Even a lack of water isn't enough, it just results in a halt of normal processes and we end up with the state Moon is in. I mean she eventually got access to water again after she pulled an "admin privileges" on Pebbles, but even going for as long as she did without was enough to fuck her up bad

but even then, after that and pretty much all of her fucking neural flies gone, she still can't die, not the way they want. Not the way Sliver of Straw did with a complete shut down. Iterator's were designed almost exactly like AM from I have no mouth and i must scream:

"We had given AM sentience. Inadvertently, of course, but sentience nonetheless. But it had been trapped. AM wasn't God, he was a machine. We had created him to think, but there was nothing it could do with that creativity. In rage, in frenzy, the machine had killed the human race, almost all of us, and still it was trapped. AM could not wander, AM could not wonder, AM could not belong. He could merely be."

but unlike the humans, the ancient's made sure that their god computers would never have the power AM did to lash out. Iterator's could and still can only complain and be bitter, but seem to be unable (by design) to feel the hot rage someone in that position would feel. And if something did go wrong and shit was going south? Start taking out those flies, there were probably purposed organisms locked and loaded for that express purpose

and thats wat i wanted to get outta my head

*edit* i wanted to add somthing about how the puppet part of an iterator is probably like a computer interface:

what of instead of thinking of the puppet and its ai as the "true" computer, we instead thought of it a bit like the above image, the fabric screen part? The ancients interacted with the puppet the way we use a mouse or tap a screen, just with words instead. The point of making the puppet aware and having thoughts and feels was all solely to make it more efficient, it could understand nuance and urgency and feel empathy and act accordingly with carrying out the user's wishes

but yeah unlike our mouse, iterators were also straight up in charge of running a lot of stuff unsupervised so their creators didn't have to deal with so much. Ancient's were really big on making swarms of different lifeforms to do like one thing for them lol

*imagines a living roomba thats just like a horseshoe crab that doodles around your home eating up anything on the floor*

haha thats funHEY WAIT

OH MY GOD

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

Hello! I usually don't read lawsuit AUs, (usually one of two things I just can't get my mind around happen 1. He'd never leave, that's his family! 2. They'd never be that mean, they're his family!) But I love everything you've written so far so I'm intrigued and ready to try again with someone I trust at the helm. So whatever you feel like writing for 📸 please and thank you!

Hey! i don't usually read them for similar reasons! But the request came through on my form and I thought, why not do it in a way that makes sense to me.

500 for 📸:

---

“Uh, Penny,” Buck frowns. “Eddie’s just my friend. An old friend. From when I used to live in California with Aunt Maddie.”

“Oh,” Penny says. “Okay!” 

“Drink up and back to bed, alright?” Buck says. 

Penny nods, then takes a big sip of water. After a moment, she hands the cup back to Buck. 

“Can you tuck me in again?” She whispers. 

Buck nods, then looks at Eddie.

“Do you mind waiting?” 

“Not at all,” Eddie says. 

They could end the night here, he supposes. But Eddie finds he’s sort of dying to know why Penny asked what she asked. 

▪️▪️▪️

“So, that was weird,” Buck starts when he returns from tucking Penny back into bed. He’s got two fresh, new beers, as though they’re some sort of apology. Sorry my kid thought we were dating beers. Eddie is finding the whole thing rather amusing, if he’s being honest. 

“Was it?” Eddie asks, trying to suppress a smirk. He might be finding it less funny if Buck wasn’t so flustered.

He’s always kind of liked the look of Buck flustered. Six years hasn’t changed the way that makes his stomach flutter, apparently. As loath as he might be to admit that.

“She… I mean, she was confused,” Buck says.

“Oh?” Eddie asks. “And why is that?”

He’s digging. Prying. He knows that. But he wants to know the answer. He actually feels that it’s critical he knows the answer. He’s just not sure he’ll know what to do with the information once he gets it. 

Buck sighs. “I don’t introduce her to a string of boyfriends, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

Eddie laughs. “I didn’t think that. That’s not the part I was focused on.”

“The boy part, huh?” Buck asks.

“That’d be it,” Eddie confirms. 

Buck sighs. “Yeah, uh… Well, I’m bi. So… That’s why she said that. I’ve been trying to keep my language about dating fairly gender fluid, so she doesn’t have expectations one way or another. Not that I’m dating a lot, but occasionally… She hasn’t met anyone, and now I’m rambling…”

“Hey, it’s cool,” Eddie assures him. “I just didn’t know that about you. Were you… I mean you were, but did you know…”

“When we knew each other?” Buck asks quietly. Because there’s no easy way to phrase that.

Eddie nods. “Yeah.”

Buck shakes his head. “No. Didn’t find out until I experienced a few crazy cast parties on the show. Then I was focused on Samara, and then Penny, and… Well, it’s not really been a thing I’ve had the opportunity to really think about until the past few years.”

“That makes sense,” Eddie nods.

His chest feels very tight. Like a carbonated bottled soda someone has shaken repeatedly, about to burst.

[xxhenie]

YOU, QUINN and EMMA

This is my first post. I hope I'm doing this right. This is the middle of a story Ive been writing about. I figured it would be interesting to start a story in the middle. Im not the best at writing so I apologize for any grammatical errors.

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

Quinn Hughes x Reader

You’ve known Quinn a few months now. Your friendship has unexpectedly grown from accidentally meeting in the streets of Vancouver to his unexpected late night visits when he’s restless. It’s 11 pm and you just finished setting up your new TV. You put in new batteries in the remote but for some stupid reason it wasn’t working. You give up and grab some water from the fridge. While drinking you catch a glimpse of the moon outside. You smile and decide to go out for some fresh air, hoping to get a better view of the moon and stars. As you close the door behind you, you see Quinn making his way to the steps leading up to your door. He stops as he gets to the first step. He’s look up at you. Not a hint of a smile. You meet his eyes. Oh are they ever so sad. He doesn’t say a word. It takes you a moment to realize, but earlier that night you heard his team lost to the Edmonton Oilers and the Canucks were out of the playoffs. You sigh and rush down the steps. You wrap your arms around him and lay your head on his chest just under his chin. In the months you’ve been friends with Quinn, you’ve become close. Close enough to sit beside each other and talk in whispers. Close enough you could smell the faint traces of his cologne. Close enough to create tension between you and him. But you’ve never been this close. Your bodies have never touched. You’ve never held him and he’s never held you. And there you were, chest pressed against his, your head safely tucked under his chin, cozy against his the fabric of his hoody.  “Are you okay?” You ask quietly, not looking up and not letting him go. It took him a moment to let his guard down. He wraps you up in his arms and rests his head next to yours. “I am now.” He whispers back. You’re the first to break the embrace. “Do you wanna come in?”

“Yeah.” He nods. You turn around and start walking back up. Quinn follows you up. 

“You want something to drink or eat? Sorry about the mess, I just finished setting up my new TV.” You make your way to kitchen ready to serve him. “Im okay, I’m not hungry.” He makes his way to your couch and sits. You sigh at the sight of him. His eyes are empty, his shoulders slumped, his mind lost in thought. You spot the remote you’ve given up on and decide to ask for his help in hopes to distract him from his thoughts. 

“Hey do know how to work these things? Ive tried everything and I just can’t figure it out.” You start to play around with the remote and out of nowhere the tv turns on. The sports news was on and they were in the middle of recapping the Canucks’ loss to the Oilers. The volume seems so loud. Quinn focuses on the TV, then shoots you a look of annoyance. 

“Fuck im sorry.” You say as you try to change the channel but you fumble the remote. “Im so sorry Quinn.” You keep saying as you pick up the remote.  In quick succession Quinn is up on his feet, makes his way to you and forcefully grabs the remote out of your hand. He looks at you straight in the eye as he throws the remote against the wall. The TV turns off. He says nothing. Your eyes are wide and you don’t dare move. You swallow hard. Your eyes well up with tears.

“I’m sorry Quinn”. The words barely leave your lips as you quickly turn around to leave. But as quick as you are Quinn quickly grabs your wrist and turns you back around. You are once again face to face, but closer this time. His left hand is holding your right wrist, he cups your cheek with the other hand and plants his lips on yours. He kisses you slow but firm. You freeze and your lips dont return his gesture. He kisses you again and this time your body knows what to do; you meet his lips and reciprocate the way his lips are dancing on yours.

He is the first to break the kiss. But he doesn’t pull away. He nudges your nose softly and rest his forehead against yours.

“I’m sorry, i didn’t mean to scare you.”

You didn’t have to say it, he knew he had your forgiveness as you press your body against his and take his lips again. You can feel the smile on his face as he wraps one arm around your waist and another behind your thigh. He lifts you up and carries you to your couch. 

He’s sitting comfortably on the couch while you fit like a puzzle on top of him. The kisses deepen and your hands are in his hair and neck. His right hand holds you hip tight while gently guiding its movement to pleasure him, the other hand explores underneath your t-shirt. His touch is gentle yet precise. You let out a small moan as his hand reaches under your bra-

His phone buzzes in his pocket. He lets go of your hip and takes his phone out and toss it to the other end of the couch. His hand returns to your hip and his lips wanders from your mouth to your neck. You let out a small chuckle, his beard tickles. He lifts your shirt off and tosses it to the floor. He kisses your collarbone while looking up at you. His hands move away from your hips once again as he unclips your bra-

His phone buzzes again.

“Fuck, who is that.” His turns his head towards his phone and turns it over- EMMA. “Fuck.” He says once more but doesnt answer the phone. You sigh, and hug him. The call went to voicemail and for a moment the buzzing stops. “Im sorry.” He says. He leans in for a kiss but his phone starts to buzz again. EMMA. 

“You should probably get that.” You rest your forehead against his and sigh in defeat.

“Fuck, im sorry.” He says as he grabs his phone.

You get up, fix your bra, put your shirt back on and return to the glass of water you were drinking before Quinn arrived. You watch Quinn get up off the couch and pace back and forth while talking to Emma on the phone. 

You didn’t bother listening to what he was saying. A part of you didn’t want to know. You focus on your drink. 

Quinn was the first to approach. 

“I think I have to go. Emmas stranded at a party and she’s really out of it. Her friends left and she doesn’t trust anyone else to take her home. I think it’s only right I go help her out since she called.”

“It’s okay Quinn, you don’t ever have to explain yourself when it comes to Emma.” You both walk to the door. “Drive safe.” You let Quinn out the door. You leaned against the closed door and wonder how you got into this mess. How has your simple life became so tangled up with Quinn and Emma.

[that-she-cant-change4luv]

"what's wrong, dear?" - gerard way x reader - fluff

hesitant alien!gerard way x gender neutral!reader fluff. im not the best at writing it but here we go

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

a man notices you crying on a bench on a rainy day and comes up to you. word count - 1,197 WARNING - SOME OF THIS INCLUDES SOME PERSONAL THINGS IVE BEEN DEALING WITH AND SINCE MOSTLY EVERYTHING I WRITE IN SELF INDULGENT IM INCLUDING THOSE THINGS

You were sitting on a city bench, it was a rainy day and all you had to keep you warm was your trench coat. You were crying, not loud enough to beat the sound of the rain. You were quite sad, but you couldn't pin-point why. Maybe it was because you felt sad all the time. Maybe it's because you know you had some issues, but didn't know what. Maybe it was because of your current relationship with your mother.

Well, whatever it was, was making you feel quite down. And since you lived with a roommate, who invaded your privacy and was nosy a lot, and there 24/7, you had to go somewhere else to cry. So you picked a city bench on a rainy day.

It felt good to get your feelings out, but you felt guilty to cry for whatever reason. Maybe it was because you were worried someone would come up to you and force the reason you're crying out of you. That always happened with your mother when you were little. You always hated it.

The streets were quite empty, there was only a few cars passing by every 5 minutes and the only sound was the sound of the beating rain.

You noticed a man across the street, he was wearing a trench coat, he had an umbrella, and his hair was bright orange. You stared at him for a little bit before returning to your own thoughts. He didn't seem to notice you, but he did. He had seen you crying.

Since you were little, you had always been terrified of crying in front of someone. Because you knew they would force the reason for your tears out of you. You never wanted that. You just wanted to be alone and get your feelings out.

A bit later, a person sat close to you and held their umbrella above you. You look above you once you realize you don't feel rain pouring down on you anymore. You see it's an umbrella, then turn next to you. It was the man from across the street.

He smiles down at you and continues to hold the umbrella above you. You try smiling back, but all you can force out was a fake, small, sad little smile. Even though you were strangers, you could tell his heart ached at seeing your sad little smile.

"Are you okay, dear?"

The man said to you. He was still holding his umbrella over you, he was getting drenched in rain himself.

You nodded, but it was obvious something was definetely wrong. Maybe he could see your sadness, unlike anyone else in your life. Maybe he was a good person. Maybe he was a bad one. However, through all of that, you felt.. Pulled to him. Like something was connecting your spiritual energy.

"Are you sure, darling? I know we're only strangers, but I can't help but feel worried for you, dear."

This time, you shook your head. He seemed trustworthy. He seemed like a good person.

"No, sir, I'm not okay."

You said with a shaky, teared up, choked voice. He frowned a little and continued to hold his umbrella above you.

"Well, dear, what's wrong?"

He said, with genuine worry in his expression. He saw how sad you were.

"I'm sorry, but I don't wanna talk about it."

He nodded understandingly and kept his umbrella above you. He still looked a little worried for you, but he knew you would be okay soon. At least, he thought. Were you gonna be okay soon? You didn't know.

He wrapped his arm around you, and you leaned onto his shoulder and just cried. This was way better than crying to sad music and isolating yourself from the world. He rubbed your back up and down and you felt.. Soothed? Like, this was peace. With this stranger, letting you cry into him, it was like peace. Peace in your mind.

"By the way, before I forget, my name's Gerard."

The stranger- Actually, Gerard whispered. You nodded and continue to lay on his shoulder, your tears have calmed down a little bit. You stay snuggled up against him, he was still holding his umbrella over the two of you- Well, mostly you, but he wasn't getting drenched in rain anymore.

"My name's [your name here]."

You were still speaking in a somewhat shaky voice. He nodded and continued to rub your back up and down.

"That's a pretty name, dear. It suits you very well."

He kissed your forehead, it was obvious he was still trying to calm you down. You smiled and blushed a little bit, and let out a content, happy sigh. You were at peace with this man holding you, and being worried for you.

You had finally fully calm down, yet Gerard still held you in his arms. Honestly, this was the best you felt in a while. You felt truly happy.

It was still very rainy, and he kept holding you in his arms. He turned to you and held your chin in his hand. He pressed his lips against yours, and you returned the kiss. It was magical. Like something out of a story book.

He pulled away and smiled down at you. He stared at you and examined your features. You did the same, and realized how beautiful he was. Why were you feeling an attraction to this random man? Not like, anything sexual, no. A spiritual attraction. Like you're meant to be together. Maybe as partners, maybe as friends, you didn't know. All you knew was that this man was supposed to be in your life.

He stared down at you lovingly and pulled you into a tight hug. He continued to plant soft kisses on your forehead every once in a while. You felt happy. Not pretending to be happy, actually happy. You smiled at him. This time, it was a genuine, happy smile. Not a fake, sad, and forced one. He smiled softly and continued to hold you in his arms.

But, as early as it still felt, it was getting late. It felt like you had met the man seconds ago. The rain had slowed down and the clouds had cleared. It was a bit cloudy, sure, but it wasn't anything like it was a few minutes- No, wait.. Hours ago.

You could see the moon, shining down onto the city. The moon was bright tonight. It made the man beside you look beautiful.

Gerard smiled down at you, the moon made his smile look like pearls. It was beautiful.

"Now, I'm sorry dear, but I must get going."

He said to you softly with that pearly smile. You were very disappointed, but he had to go. He stood up and held his umbrella over him and slowly walked away.

But before he was out of sight, you had to say something to him.

"Wait, Gerard,"

You said. He turned around and stared at you questioningly.

"Maybe we could meet at a café tomorrow?"

He smiled and nodded.

"Sure, let's go to the one on Main Street. See you tomorrow, love."

He smiled and walked away once again. You smiled too, and walked in the other direction, back to your apartment. You felt truly happy. Not sad or anything. It was like the man had powers or something that made you feel better.

maybe part 2???