#but those would all be bonuses | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

colleendoran · 5 months

Text

Great Big Good Omens Graphic Novel Update

AKA A Visit From Bildad the Shuhite.

The past year or so has been one long visit from this guy, whereupon he smiteth my goats and burneth my crops, woe unto the woeful cartoonist.

Gaze upon the horror of Bildad the Shuhite.

You kind of have to be a Good Omens fan to get this joke, but trust me, it's hilarious.

Anyway, as a long time Good Omens novel fan, you may imagine how thrilled I was to get picked to adapt the graphic novel.

Go me!

This is quite a task, I have to say, especially since I was originally going to just draw (and color) it, but I ended up writing the adaptation as well. Tricky to fit a 400 page novel into a 160-ish page graphic novel, especially when so much of the humor is dependent on the language, and not necessarily on the visuals.

Not complainin', just sayin'.

Anyway, I started out the gate like a herd of turtles, because right away I got COVID which knocked me on my butt.

And COVID brain fog? That's a thing. I already struggle with brain fog due to autoimmune disease, and COVID made it worse.

Not complainin' just sayin'.

This set a few of the assignments on my plate back, which pushed starting Good Omens back.

But hey, big fat lead time! No worries!

Then my computer crawled toward the grave.

My trusty MAC Pro Tower was nearly 15 years old when its sturdy heart ground to a near-halt with daily crashes. I finally got around to doing some diagnostics; some of its little brain actions were at 5% functionality. I had no reliable backups.

There are so many issues with getting a new computer when you haven't had a new computer or peripherals in nearly fifteen years and all of your software, including your Photoshop program is fifteen years old.

At the time, I was still on rural internet...which means dial-up speed.

Whatever you have for internet in the city, roll that clock back to about 2001.

That's what I had. I not only had to replace almost all of my hardware but I had to load and update all programs at dial-up speed.

Welcome to my gigabyte hell.

The entire process of replacing the equipment and programs took weeks and then I had to relearn all the software.

All of this was super expensive in terms of money and time cost.

But I was not daunted! Nosirree!

I still had a huge lead time! I can do anything! I have an iron will!

And boy, howdy, I was going to need it.

At about the same time, a big fatcat quadrillionaire client who had hired me years ago to develop a big, major transmedia project for which I was paid almost entirely in stock, went bankrupt leaving everyone holding the bag, and taking a huge chunk of my future retirement fund with it.

I wrote a very snarky almost hilarious Patreon post about it, but am not entirely in a position to speak freely because I don't want to get sued. Even though I had to go to court over it, (and I had to do that over Zoom at dial-up speed,) I'm pretty sure I'll never get anything out of this drama, and neither will anyone else involved, except millionaire dude and his buddies who all walked away with huge multi-million dollar bonuses weeks before they declared bankruptcy, all the while claiming they would not declare bankruptcy.

Even the accountant got $250,000 a month to shut down the business, while creators got nothing.

That in itself was enough drama for the year, but we were only at February by that point, and with all those months left, 2023 had a lot more to throw at me.

Fresh from my return from my Society of Illustrators show, and a lovely time at MOCCA, it was time to face practical medical issues, health updates, screening, and the like. I did my adult duty and then went back to work hoping for no news, but still had a weird feeling there would be news.

I know everyone says that, but I mean it. I had a bad feeling.

Then there was news.

I was called back for tests and more tests. This took weeks. The ubiquitous biopsy looked, even to me staring at the screen in real time, like bad news.

It also hurt like a mofo after the anesthesia wore off. I wasn't expecting that.

Then I got the official bad news.

Cancer which runs in my family finally got me. Frankly, I was surprised I didn't get it sooner.

Stage 0, and treatment would likely be fast and complication-free. Face the peril, get it over with, and get back to work.

I requested surgery months in the future so I could finish Good Omens first, but my doc convinced me the risk of waiting was too great. Get it done now.

"You're really healthy," my doc said. Despite an auto-immune issue which plagues me, I am way healthier than the average schmoe of late middle age. She informed me I would not even need any chemo or radiation if I took care of this now.

So I canceled my appearance at San Diego Comic Con. I did not inform the Good Omens team of my issues right away, thinking this would not interfere with my work schedule, but I did contact my agent to inform her of the issue. I also contacted a lawyer to rewrite my will and make sure the team had access to my digital files in case there were complications.

Then I got back to work, and hoped for the best.

Eff this guy.

Before I could even plant my carcass on the surgery table, I got a massive case of ocular shingles.

I didn't even know there was such a thing.

There I was, minding my own business. I go to bed one night with a scratchy eye, and by 4 PM the next day, I was in the emergency room being told if I didn't get immediate specialist treatment, I was in big trouble.

I got transferred to another hospital and got all the scary details, with the extra horrid news that I could not possibly have cancer surgery until I was free of shingles, and if I did not follow a rather brutal treatment procedure - which meant super-painful eye drops every half hour, twenty-four hours a day and daily hospital treatment - I could lose the eye entirely, or be blinded, or best case scenario, get permanent eye damage.

What was even funnier (yeah, hilarity) is the drops are so toxic if you don't use the medication just right, you can go blind anyway.

Hi Ho.

Ulcer is on the right. That big green blob.

I had just finished telling my cancer surgeon I did not even really care about getting cancer, was happy it was just stage zero, had no issues with scarring, wanted no reconstruction, all I cared about was my work.

Just cut it out and get me back to work.

And now I wondered if I was going to lose my ability to work anyway.

Shingles often accompanies cancer because of the stress on the immune system, and yeah, it's not pretty. This is me looking like all heck after I started to get better.

The first couple of weeks were pretty demoralizing as I expected a straight trajectory to wellness. But it was up and down all the way.

Some days I could not see out of either eye at all. The swelling was so bad that I had to reach around to my good eye to prop the lid open. Light sensitivity made seeing out of either eye almost impossible. Outdoors, even with sunglasses, I had to be led around by the hand.

I had an amazing doctor. I meticulously followed his instructions, and I think he was surprised I did. The treatment is really difficult, and if you don't do it just right no matter how painful it gets, you will be sorry.

To my amazement, after about a month, my doctor informed me I had no vision loss in the eye at all. "This never happens," he said.

I'd spent a couple of weeks there trying to learn to draw in the near-dark with one eye, and in the end, I got all my sight back.

I could no longer wear contact lenses (I don't really wear them anyway, unless I'm going to the movies,) would need hard core sun protection for awhile, and the neuralgia and sun sensitivity were likely to linger. But I could get back to work.

I have never been more grateful in my life.

Neuralgia sucks, by the way, I'm still dealing with it months later.

Anyway, I decided to finally go ahead and tell the Good Omens team what was going on, especially since this was all happening around the time the Kickstarter was gearing up.

Now that I was sure I'd passed the eye peril, and my surgery for Stage 0 was going to be no big deal, I figured all was a go. I was still pretty uncomfortable and weak, and my ideal deadline was blown, but with the book not coming out for more than a year, all would be OK. I quit a bunch of jobs I had lined up to start after Good Omens, since the project was going to run far longer than I'd planned.

Everybody on the team was super-nice, and I was pretty optimistic at this time. But work was going pretty slow during, as you may imagine.

But again...lots of lead time still left, go me.

Then I finally got my surgery.

Which was not as happy an experience as I had been hoping for.

My family said the doc came out of the operating room looking like she'd been pulled backwards through a pipe, She informed them the tumor which looked tiny on the scan was "...huge and her insides are a mess."

Which was super not fun news.

Eff this guy.

The tumor was hiding behind some dense tissue and cysts. After more tests, it was determined I'd need another surgery and was going to have to get further treatments after all.

The biopsy had been really painful, but the discomfort was gone after about a week, so no biggee. The second surgery was, weirdly, not as painful as the biopsy, but the fatigue was big time.

By then, the Good Omens Kickstarter had about run its course, and the record-breaker was both gratifying and a source of immense social pressure.

I'd already turned most of my social media over to an assistant, and I'm glad I did.

But the next surgery was what really kicked me on my keister.

All in all, they took out an area the size of a baseball. It was hard to move and wiped me out for weeks and weeks. I could not take care of myself. I'd begun losing hair by this time anyway, and finally just lopped it off since it was too heavy for me to care for myself. The cut hides the bald spots pretty well.

After about a month, I got the go-ahead to travel to my show at the San Diego Comic Con Museum (which is running until the first week of April, BTW). I was very happy I had enough energy to do it. But as soon as I got back, I had to return to treatment.

Since I live way out in the country, going into the city to various hospitals and pharmacies was a real challenge. I made more than 100 trips last year, and a drive to the compounding pharmacy which produced the specialist eye medicine I could not get anywhere else was six hours alone.

Naturally, I wasn't getting anything done during this time.

But at least my main hospital is super swank.

The oncology treatment went smoothly, until it didn't. The feels don't hit you until the end. By then I was flattened.

So flattened that I was too weak to control myself, fell over, and smashed my face into some equipment.

Nearly tore off my damn nostril.

Eff this guy.

Anyway, it was a bad year.

Here's what went right.

I have a good health insurance policy. The final tally on my health care costs ended up being about $150,000. I paid about 18% of that, including insurance. I had a high deductible and some experimental medicine insurance didn't cover. I had savings, enough to cover the months I wasn't working, and my Patreon is also very supportive. So you didn't see me running a Gofundme or anything.

Thanks to everyone who ever bought one of my books.

No, none of that money was Good Omens Kickstarter money. I won't get most of my pay on that for months, which is just as well because it kept my taxes lower last year when I needed a break.

So, yay.

My nose is nearly healed. I opted out of plastic surgery, and it just sealed up by itself. I'll never be ready for my closeup, but who the hell cares.

I got to ring the bell.

I had a very, VERY hard time getting back to work, especially with regard to focus and concentration. My work hours dropped by over 2/3. I was so fractured and weak, time kept slipping away while I sat in the studio like a zombie. Most of the last six months were a wash.

I assumed focus issues were due (in part) to stress, so sought counseling. This seemed like a good idea at first, but when the counselor asked me to detail my issues with anxiety, I spent two weeks doing just that and getting way more anxious, which was not helpful.

After that I went EFF THIS NOISE, I want practical tools, not touchy feelies (no judgment on people who need touchy-feelies, I need a pragmatic solution and I need it now,) so tried using the body doubling focus group technique for concentration and deep work.

Within two weeks, I returned to normal work hours.

I got rural broadband, jumping me from dial up speed to 1 GB per second.

It's a miracle.

Massive doses of Vitamin D3 and K2. Yay.

The new computer works great.

The Kickstarter did so well, we got to expand the graphic novel to 200 pages. Double yay.

I'm running late, but everyone on the Good Omens team is super supportive. I don't know if I am going to make the book late or not, but if I do, well, it surely wasn't on purpose, and it won't be super late anyway. I still have months of lead time left.

I used to be something of a social media addict, but now I hardly ever even look at it, haven't been directly on some sites in over a year, and no longer miss it. It used to seem important and now doesn't.

More time for real life.

While I think the last year aged me about twenty years, I actually like me better with short hair. I'm keeping it.

OK. Rough year.

Not complainin', just sayin'.

Back to work on The Book.

And only a day left to vote for Good Omens, Neil Gaiman, and Sandman in the Comicscene Awards. Thanks.

#good omens graphic novel #good omens #terry pratchett #neil gaiman #dunmanifestin

2K notes · View notes

malereadermaniac · 28 days

Text

Barack bunny pt 2 - Male Reader x Pro-hero's as generals (+bonuses)

This was requested by @jojorefrence23 ! I just thought it was such a good sequel idea and had to do it! word count: 4.6k (loooooong)

Characters: Enji, Fatgum, Aizawa, Dabi, Shigi, Shinso + Tamaki, Mirio, Shindo Mdni & Fdni! Male reader smut ahead!

Inevitably, your reputation as your division's barrack bunny had reached other divisions which weren't lucky enough to be blessed by your presence

Most lieutenants had also heard of you, and news of you had travelled to even some generals

Some were more interested than others, surprisingly few were concerned about your more energetic hobbies - especially as you were a man getting it on with other guys in your devision and not a female cadet; their rules weren't exactly updated to ban gay relationships too!

And so, other people began to talk to you, your presence more known than ever before - most of the guys who were already trying to get with you livid at this

General Aizawa (EraserHead)

Even the most reserved of the generals had become interested in you, the man being called 'eraserhead' behind his back due to the blank expression on his face at all times

To be fair, the man has to manage a bunch of knucklehead young men without getting any ass - so when you basically show up on a platter, it's hard for him not to test the waters

Aizawa already had a softspot for you, as you were one of the less rowdy ones in the bunch - always chipper but never annoying, and always happy to help whenever the overworked general needed it

So once the two of you were all alone in his office as you helped him out with whatever he needed, your trusted general decided to get a little more personal with you

Conversation swept you both up and you two ended up talking until late into the night - Aizawa even comfortable enough to talk about his daughter with you; DILF? Smash.

One thing led to another and the man was holding your waist and your cheek with his slender, rough hands as he kissed you - his tongue completely dominating yours

A few moments later, you were bent over his desk, getting fucked like a cheap slut. Aizawa holding both of your arms back only with one of his hands, the other on the small of your back as his cock fills you up

Your General's whole office had been christened with your moans that night - the muscular man standing naked above you as he came on your face with a horny look in his eyes, holding you in his strong arms as he fucks you against all 4 walls of his office

It's easier to just say that you were very tired the next morning at attention

But ever since then, you were even more Aizawa's favourite

The man did everything in his power (which he had quite a bit of) to keep you away from your other escapades - bakugou being one of the many which would cuss out the general behind his back foe this

The fucking didn't stop either

I mean, the man was constantly stressed and sexually frustrated, and you were young and horny as fuck 24/7

Aizawa's favourite thing to do was call you into his office a few hours after training, watching you walk into his office with a smile and pep in your step always made him feel at ease

The sexy general would then gesture towards his crotch with his head and eyes, those sunken, sexy eyes of his

Within the next minuet, you're under Aizawa's desk, his cock slipped out out of his cammo cargoes, half of his veiny, thick dick down your throat and your hand wrapped around whatever you couldn't get in

And while the situation only really pleasured your general, you couldn't help but feel incredibly turned on by the sight above you - Aizawa moaning and grunnting, his long, muscular arms hanging down his sides as his chin is tilted up to show his sexy stubble, his sexy eyes looking down at you with a look than sends shivers down your spine

The man also always sports a black, tight tanktop every time he's in his office - a comfort thing - and fucking hell does he look delicious with his muscles popping out of that top, sweat clearly dampening the material as he pants and moans from your mouth

But don't think the man stops there, Aizawa is more than happy to return the favour after you'd pleasure him so, so nicely - so for another hour or two you're usually stuck in his office; his veiny fingers inside of you as your usually reserved general laps at your twitching cock, you cumming on his face and hair everytime as if on a schedule, the action followed up by a couple rounds of his cock re-arranging your guts

Late Night talking is very common with you two - like with most of your other partners, they feel comfortable around you - you two chat about life and other things, Aizawa feels at home with you

The man knew he was in deep shit when he caught himself fantasising about you meeting Eri back home...

General Taishiro (Fatgum)

Easily the most popular and well liked general in your entire unit - earning a nickname from the troops to show how friendly he was with you guys

Fatgum - as the blonde, muscular man was still somehow in shape despite eating like he'd been starved for days at every single meal time

Taishiro is a very attractive man, and so he was very used to women and men pouncing on him and offering themselves to him whenever they built up the courage - and that's exactly what he expected you to do

You may as well be walking around with a scarlet letter on you, because litterally everyone you talked to knew about how you get down and dirty - so of fucking course your favourite general had to know too!

However, when you didn't pounce on General Taishiro, and instead barely gave him a second look, that's when the man became interested - predicable really

All of the troops in your unit loved this man, and you did too, and that's exactly why you barely gave your general a second look

You didn't want to ruin your friendship with him or his view of you, or even his relationship with your fellow troops (some of whom would threaten to fight the man)

But your views on the matter definitely changed one night, when Taishiro 'accidentally' bumped into you

It was just after training, you had just showered after having a little fun with Kirishima and weren't looking when you turned the corner to leave the shower room

That's when your face smashed into not a hard, cold wall, but instead the warm, soft, bare chest of your general

You apologised but the general took the opportunity to strike up conversation - knowing very well that he was fully nude except for a very small towel around his hips, his muscular body on full display

But the blonde actually couldn't believe it when your eyes didn't stray from his even once the whole conversation - he couldn't say the same about his, your nude body looked like it was made for him

The man even thought he'd heard wrong, that you weren't the barrack bunny everyone claimed you were

However the hickeys covering your neck and the lovebites on your shoulders and nipples blew that thought away

It took you by surprise when Taishiro's attitude slightly changed, his tone more dominant - but what the general actually said was what caught you by surprise

"Come take a shower with me"

No question mark at the end or anything, it was more like an order

The next thing led to another and the two of you were passionately making out in a shower stall, your general much taller than you as he held his huge, manly hand around your waist and gently caressing your cheek with his thumb

Taishiro was literally taking your breath away, all that could be heard in the shower room was a small stream of water from the shower and you sexy, breathy pants as the general you viewed as a friendly guy was holding you up in his massive arms with ease and eating you out in his arms!

Fuck the man knew what to do to turn you on!

The poor water bill that night must of been through the roof because you and your sexy, manly general didn't stop fucking until the sun came up - amd for most of the night he held you up in his arms! Strong ass man I tell you!

His loads filled you up to brim after just a 3 rounds - those rounds having lasted an hour each!!!

So to call it a night, Taishiro decided to gently finger his thick cum out of you- making you cum in the process and giving the blonde general an incredible image to think about whenever he has some alone time...

'Wait... why was General Taishiro showering in the common showers when he has his own??'

Your relationship didn't stop there either! Your friendly general joining the group of men that were wrapped around your finger

But man were the others livid, because the blonde made sure everyone knew he was now also up in your guts at least twice a week by making sure to sit next to you every meal time

The blonde would eat his food with the generals even quicker than normal, pop some gum in and come and wiggle hid way right next to you, his muscular arms dropped around you as he gives smug looks to the other troops

His office had become the usual place for you two as well - the snacks in his mini-fridge coming in handy when you're exhausted and hungry from fucking like animals

His favourite thing to do is to eat you out on his desk, his long, warm tongue doing things to you you'd never experienced - his favourite part being you grabbing his sexy blonde hair once you get oh so close to cumming

But Taishiro wasn't opposed to 'quietly' (loud as fuck) have sex in your bed with the others

You really woke up a smug part of him, one that wants to show you off, show off how only his big, veiny, uncut cock makes you moan like a bitch in heat

General Todoroki (Enji)

The highest ranking general which all of the troops barely ever saw - even his sons rarely saw him unless they were reporting their weekly tasks

Strict and no-bullshit is how most people described General Todoroki - and definitely unopposed to nepotism; his sons were both in higher ranks just cause!

But another way his underlings would describe him is sexually frustrated

The man was divorced and hadn't gotten a piece of ANYTHING in at least a year - so when your activities were reported to him by a worried little troop, his ears perked up

You were scared shitless the whole day after being called to his office for 8pm - but your guys and even Shoto assured you it was going to be nothing bad

But your heart certainly sank when you walked into that office and saw the chief general sitting in his chair with his huge arms crossed across his beefy chest and a look on his face that could only be described as a scowl

When General Enji started with "I've heard of you and your... relations" my god were you actually shaking

But you didn't expect him to cut you a deal

"I won't pass the concern on... as long as you can please me well enough"

And the rest was history

As you'd expect, after having earth-shattering sex on both behalf - Enji becoming addicted to your tight body and sexy features after being celibate for so long - you two continued having 'meetings' every few weeks whenever the chief called you to his office

And the man is just as anyone would think he is in bed - a fucking sadistic dom!

Enji loved having you service him below his desk, chocking on his thick cock and trying to stifle your sounds, gripping his thick, muscular thighs when someone walks into his office to talk about something

If you even make a sound which Enji has to make an excuse for, as soon whoever was bothering Enji leaves, you get pulled up into the huge General's lap and get spanked so, so much

The sadist makes you count his slaps out loud, his massive, rough hands leaving bright red marks on your ass to adorn his love bites from previously eating you out

Enji likes to see you cry - not in a horrible way, but either due to your gag reflex, his spanking, or from the sheer amount of pleasure you were being subjected to

Unlike the other guys who have fallen for you, Enji doesn't get jealous of the others - the General knows that he's at the top of the hierarchy and that you are pretty much at his beck and call, the others don't have that power over you

Oh and the man really eats up the whole power synamic - practically ripping his cargoes at the seam with his bones whenever you calm him 'sir'or 'general'

If there's one thing the man doesn't like, it's that his sons are getting a piece of you too - he feels a little weird about it, but he mainly feels a carnal need to posses you in that respect; if he sees Shoto talking to you woth that lovestruck look in his eyes, expect a 'meeting' later that day

Oh and another thing General Enji fucking loves is after he cums inside of you; you on his lap lazily leaning against his desk, regaining your composure, his huge dick still stretching you as his cum leaks from your hole, and my god your much smaller, fucking spent cock, semi-flaccid just resting on your stomach.... it makes the man want another round instantly

Lieutenant Shigiraki (Defo OOC)

Another kinda reserved guy in your course - but once you break down his walls, Shigi is really just a sweat guy

The two of you became quite friendly after you managed to get him to talk - and you kinda gathered that he's never really had any friends (other than Lieutenant Todoroki)

And you can tell this because after only a few conversations with the Lieutenant, he was oversharing so, so much about his life

How he's never really had friends, how he's never even kissed anyone because he's insecure about his dry skin and because he thinks he's ugly

And when you comfort him and assure him that he's quite attractive, you realised that Shigi hasn't ever even experienced a compliment before - HOW SAD WAS THID GUYS LIFE??

And again, you could tell this because the man got a VERY obvious boner when you complimented him.....

It became very obvious that Shigiraki had developed a crush on you very quickly, the man looking for you every second of the day and spending time around you - not even talking! Just hanging

And my lord when he found out from Dabi about your reputation. Shigiraki literally went full on emo, he got mad at you whenever you tried to talk to you and all!

It was only when you waited for him outside of his room that he HAD to talk to you

And even then, he didn't talk! He listened to your demands of asking what was wrong, but halfway through, your words were falling on dead ears as he became captivated by your looks - your body looking incredible in your unit's pyjamas

Shigiraki then cutting you off after not being able to deal with his achingly hard cock anymore, his rough yet warm hands grabbing your face and his lips crashing against yours

For an inexperienced guy, Shigiraki was a fucking good kisser

The cliche struggling to open the door and get inside the room while stripping occurred as the two of you didn't break the kiss - and again, for a fucking virgin Shigiraki was incredible

People had been missing out! The man was well endowed with a horse cock on him! Long but not too thick as to break you, veiny and white with a cute pink, uncut tip - guessing he'd learnt how to expertly use it and his hands for a matter of fact from all the porn he told you he watches (romantic gay porn mind you)

Guess Internet access after 9pm was a bonus from being a lieutenant

Anyways, after your first sexual affair with the stereotypical 'I like my white boys malnourished' lieutenant, the two of you continued what you had going on

Shigiraki fucking loved the way you looked in any of the provided uniform - the pyjamas, the cargoes, the tank tops; all of it just made you look so hot to him

Also, for a lieutenant, the man surely liked to be dominant a little (guess that's why he's in the army!)

Shigiraki fucking loved it when you held his hands above his head and rode him to high-heaven, moving down to kiss him and his neck as you listen to his slutty moans

His hands just felt right around your hips, their dry exterior a nice contrast to your sweaty and hot skin

And my god does this masochist fucking LOVE IT when you tug so harshly on his hair when he's fucking tou missonary and you're about to cum hard - the man spending at least an hour a day looking at the sexy scratch marks adorning his surprisingly muscular back

Like everyone else smitten with you, Shigi also fucking hated that any other man was blessed with your touch and your taste or even just your pressance and breath - but Shigiraki was like actually going crazy over it, visibly jealous and possessive over you whenever another guys tried to talk to you when he was with you

Many guys have talked about it and even put the fact that their all fucking you aside to try and deal with the way Shigi was behaving - 6 of them having a 'chat' with him, which you had to deal with the consequences of and scold them all

But you can't get mad at your lieutenants possessiveness, he's just too cute and smitten for you!

Lieutenant Todoroki (Dabi)

By far one of the sexiest men in your unit, a man who came to the army straight after college and never left - his literal battle scars as proof of that

Dabi was one of the first few that you had caught the eye of - and since his literal father was in charge, he'd had quite a few partners in his time in the army, so the rugged man decided to try his luck with you

And boy oh boy! Did he manage to rizz you the fuck up! The taller man having you up against a wall within seconds of chatting with you, his knee rubbing your crotch gently doing 'the thing'

Basically, you were making out with one of your lieutenant only a week or two into your service - the muscular, dominant man roaming his hands all over your body in order to feel you and get to know you even better

Dabi was instantly addicted to your taste, your warmth, the sounds you would make as he hugs your waist and kisses you deeper turning the man on even more

And wow, history was made when the two of you managed to break off of each other enough to get to Dabi's private room

That man fucked you to heaven and back TWICE - you're pretty sure your whole unit somehow heard you from across the dorms!

And ever since then, the two of you have kept each other entertained when in need of it - you visit Dabi's room very frequently

The lieutenant just can't get enough of you, he's fucked so many people before but the way your tight ass just sucks his veiny cock in gets him going!

Dabi's also very confident in his relationship with you (whatever that relationship may be) cause he doesn't not give a fuck if other guys try to assert their dominance around you and him, Dabi just chuckles when other guys flirt or talk to you cause he knows that you and him are like a puzzle - the way his hips lock against the smooth of your ass in Doggy, the was his dick fills you up just right, the way his rough, scarred hands spank you and grip your skin; all of him just fits with all of you.

The thing that gets under Dabi's skin is that his younger brother gets to see and feel you in the way he does - he teases Todoroki endlessly about how much better of a time you have with Dabi rather than with him, or that he's sorry to his little bro but you're just insatiable around Dabi!

You inly intervene when you see it happen (but you can't really complain, it gets Todoroki really fired up the next time you two fuck)

Dabi's biggest thing is showing off his power/status by doing shit with you in front of other troops - it just turns the lieutenant on so, so much to know: a) how embarrassed yet very turned on you're getting and, b) how the others can't really say or do much about it unless they want to get written up by Dabi! They're just sentenced to the punishment of watching your body get fondled, your neck kissed and your dick and ass played with right in front of them

Fingering you is another huge thing for Dabi - 69-ing is literally his favourite foreplay with you because he gets to feel your wet, warm, tight throat around his big dick and to also see your tight hole clench around his fingers as he laps at it from time to time~

Dabi is surprisingly good at aftercare too! If you'd ask him if he was your boyfriend, he'd laugh in your face - but Dabi takes care of you and keeps you close as if you're a married couple!

The man likes to hold you close, the two of you bare-chested in some oversized sweats just breathing in each other's scents in a comfortable silence - a few sweet nothings being whispered from time to time

Shinso Hitoshi

This poor man joined the army as an escape - a place where he could make some friends and chill, a daily routine but with no life struggles

That was until he got roped into your whirlwind of a life!

It wasn't your fault that it happened, Shinso was to blame for letting himself into temptation and kissing you after months of sexual and romantic tension building up within your friendship

The two of you were close, Shinso a little more closed off, but happy to listen to your hyperactive rambling - but once the sunken eyed man kissed you one night, shit really changed

Shinso wasn't a virgin, but he'd never had actually good sex, so his mind was fucking blown when he came within minuets - feeling like an orgasm from his hand x10!

After you two fucked, Shinso was on you like a bee to a flower, literally inseparable

The man was either always touching you or near you and whenever the two of you could get it on, he would make SURE that you did

And because you were Shinso's first real partner, the man did start to confuse sex for romance - but he of course knew of your free-spirited nature and never ask you out...

The sex was great though, and he would stay haply with that, hearing your sexy moans in his ear along with his name in your whiny voice was enough for now

You had to show Shinso quite a few things, like how to finger you and how to pump his hips just right to make you weak, he was so cute, playing attention for how to make you feel amazing

And holy shit was this man's mind BLOWN when you sucked him off - his dick n balls hanging out of his unzipped camo cargoes, his muscles sweating against his white tank top just moaning as he looked down on you slobbering on his dick

He's also pretty good around others, well at least he seems to be

Shinso is too reserved to try to be possessive over you around other guys, but man, does he freak out on the inside!

Shinso will be internally screaming and thinking of beating whoever is touching you so sexually tf up! But he'd feel too embarrassed to ever mention it to you! Settling on covering you in more of his lovebites than usual...

Shinso is another man who just looks fucking stunning in army uniform, he used to work out a lot as he wouldn't hang out with people that much - and it fucking shows!

His muscular arms and fucking TONED abs look so good in his white tank, his stature just oozing SEX

And those combat boots.... Once Shinso starts to get more comfortable when having sex with you - he uses them boots real good.

His arms crossed against his chest ad he sits on a chair in an empty room, you on your knees below him as he rubs your dick harshly with his boots, cooing at you as a wet stain forms on your crotch from your pre~

Short bonuses!:

Tamaki Amajiki

Another super shy and reclusive guy, he only really joined the army for Mirio but meeting you was an added bonus!

You two don't fuck as much as Tamaki insist on hanging out - his face always dusted with a faint blush whenever he's around you

But when you two fuck, my god is it incredible - the man is shockingly good with his hands but he gets tired after only one round! But you can't complain, he's just so cute, snuggling into your naked body

And good lord, the way that his uniform is so oversized on him... it just makes you want to mentally undress him every time you see him

Mirio Togata

Another man who was built for the army - holy fuck does Mirio look so GOOD in an army uniform

The man works out constantly, his body like that of a god - his back and arms fucking huge, his abs like a washing board and his thighs deliciously suffocating (the uniform just extenuating his sexy features)

The two of you started fucking as a way to release stress, offering your help to a stressed looking Mirio led to your throat being stuffed with his cock and your nose with his pubes - and then later on your poor back arching to its limits as he wraps his huge hands around your waist and pushes you down to his bed as he drills his huge cock inside of you

Yes the man is a gentle giant when you two aren't shagging, but call an ambulance for yourself when you are - this man likes to rough you tf up

Yo Shindo

This man joined the army to try and feel powerful - he's so clearly insecure, so he tries to be the tough guy in your troop, always working out and always a dick to everyone

The two of you had your first encounter in the communal showers, the man had you on your knees real quick, his cum covering your face, your tongue cleaning his dick off

Shindo also really likes to flex while fucking your throat or ass, showing off his buldging muscles and hairy pits in his army tanktop feeds his ego and turns you on...

737 notes · View notes

fatliberation · 1 month

Note

hi, i'm a fat person who is just starting to learn to love and appreciate my body and i'm very new to the fat community and all that.

i was wondering if you could maybe explain the term ob*se and how it is a slur. i've never heard anything about it being a slur before(like i said, i'm very new here) and was wondering if you could tell me the origin and history of the word or mayy provide links to resources about it? i want to know more about fat history and how to support my community but i'm unsure of how to start

Welcome!

Obesity is recognized as a slur by fat communities because it's a stigmatizing term that medicalizes fat bodies, typically in the absence of disease. Aside from the word literally translating to "having eaten oneself fat" in latin, obesity (as a medical diagnosis) straight up doesn't actually exist. The only measure that we have to diagnose people with obesity is the BMI, which has been widely proven to be an ineffective measure of health.

The BMI was created in the 1800s by a statistician named Adolphe Quetelet, who did NOT sudy medicine, to gather statistics of the average height and weight of ONLY white, european, upper-middle class men to assist the government in allocating resources. It was never intended as a measure of individual body fat, build, or health.

Quetelet is also credited with founding the field of anthropometry, including the racist pseudoscience of phrenology. Quetelet’s l’homme moyen would be used as a measurement of fitness to parent, and as a scientific justification for eugenics.

Studies have observed that about 30% of so-called "normal weight" people are "unhealthy" whereas about 50% of so-called "overweight" people are “healthy”. Thus, using the BMI as an indicator of health results in the misclassification of some 75 million people in the United States alone. "Healthy" lifestyle habits are associated with a significant decrease in mortality regardless of baseline body mass index.

While epidemiologists use BMI to calculate national "obesity" rates, the distinctions can be arbitrary. In 1998, the National Institutes of Health lowered the overweight threshold from 27.8 to 25—branding roughly 29 million Americans as "overweight" overnight—to match international guidelines. Articles about the "obesity epidemic" often use this pseudo-statistic to create a false fear mongering rate at which the United States is becoming fatter. Critics have also noted that those guidelines were drafted in part by the International Obesity Task Force, whose two principal funders were companies making weight loss drugs. Interesting!!!

So... how can you diagnose a person with a disease (and sell them medications) solely based upon an outdated measure that was never meant to indicate health in the first place? Especially when "obesity” has no proven causative role in the onset of any chronic condition?

There is a reason as to why fatness was declared a disease by the NIH in 1998, and some of it had to do with acknowledging fatness as something that is NOT just about a lack of willpower - but that's a very complicated post for another time. You can learn more about it in the two part series of Maintenance Phase titled The Body Mass Index and The Obesity Epidemic.

Aside from being overtly incorrect as a medical tool, the BMI is used to deny certain medical treatments and gender-affirming care, as well insurance coverage. Employers still often offer bonuses to workers who lower their BMI. Although science recognizes the BMI as deeply flawed, it's going to be tough to get rid of. It has been a long standing and effective tool for the oppression of fat people and the profit of the weight loss industry.

More sources and extra reading material:

How the Use of BMI Fetishizes White Embodiment and Racializes Fat Phobia by Sabrina Strings

The Bizarre and Racist History of the BMI by Aubrey Gordon

The Racist and Problematic History of the Body Mass Index by Adele Jackson-Gibson

What's Wrong With The War on Obesity? by Lily O'Hara, et al.

Fearing The Black Body: The Racial Origins of Fat Phobia by Sabrina Strings

#inbox #resources #the bmi is bullshit #fat liberation #fat acceptance #fat activism #bmi #medical fatphobia

474 notes · View notes

splataii · 1 year

Text

so uh @b1ueprinc3 made a post and i was inspired to make this drabble.

pervert manager dabi x male reader

cw: sub/bottom male reader, top/dom character, dacryphilia, degradation, minor exhibitionism, groping

anyway dabi first meets you an just thinks ur so fucking cute. he just loves your enegry and attitude, and becomes a lil too eager to train you, always being a lil touchy. hes down horrendous, always grabbing ur ass to congratulate you for a job well done at the end of the day or whatever.

insists he a “hands on learning” typa guy. always grabbing you by the waist so he can grind his obvious boner against your ass as he scoots behind you. always grabs u by the back of the neck, rubbing a thumb up its side as he leans over your shoulder to look at whatever work has you occupied. grabs you by the beltloop when youre passing him so he can spin you around and tell you about this “important work related thing” while he keeps his fingers pressed into your hips.

he already thinks you look pretty good in the assigned uniform, but one day, he has the genius idea to spill some water or something over you so you're forced to change into a top that's a couple sizes too small (which he insists is the only available uniform, yes it's mandatory, no you can't go home and change).

he promises it was an accident, and that he’ll wash it for you (despite the fact you insist you can clean it yourself) but instead spends his time dropping random shit on the ground so he can see your pants strain against ur ass and the way your shirt rides up your back.

the liar also takes your old shirt to the backroom to fist his cock with, pretending it's ur fucked out face he's cumming on. you ain't never getting that shit back

speaking of jerking off, this bitch does it all the time. specifically does it when youre getting off break and heading to the break rooms, so you can hear the sound of him shamelessly moaning your name as he finishes to another one of his gross fantasies of you laying spread out for him in his bed. he exits the stall and smiles when he sees your face like its no big. always makes sure to give ur ass a nice slap and some half assed “work hard” crap before he leaves you totally embarrassed.

nyway he also a bit overprotective, never stepping more than a couple feet away from you while you're working with a customer, and even other coworkers. he knows people know how cute you are. why would he leave his sweet boy to deal with those random mofos? he just stands behind you glaring when he feels someone is getting too close. you get a little confused, when they eventually leave, terrified, but he's always there to comfort you. your ass is his, you don't need no one else baby<3

he can have a bit of a mean streak sometimes tho, stretching you thin. whenever you (expectedly) fail to meet his impossible deadlines, he’s teasing you. talking about what a dumb little boy you are. he could probably fire you, if he wanted to. but he wont. if you could do this one little thing for him.. he pulls you into an old storage closet, freeing his cock from the confines of his pants so he can slap it on your face and spread his pre all over your cheek and nose. he can't help it, you just look a lot cuter this way. besides, he knows you can take it. dumb little boys like you are only made for one thing. since you're such a bad employee, show him what a damn good whore you are.

dabi claims he's only mean cause he cares. boys like you need to be taught a lesson so no one can take advantage of you. but sometimes, he plays like he's gonna make you answer calls while hes spearing you on his dick, just so he can see your pretty tears as you shake ur head no.

once again, he can have complete one eighty's, giving you all these bonuses and gifts at work saying “you deserve it” and all that shit, but everybody at work knows the reason you get all this special treatment is cause he slutting you out behind closed doors.

at the end of the day, you’re really just dabi’s personal whore. and everyone knows it.

#imma keep it a buck in the tabs #i never have n prolly never will finish mha #so ion know know dabi #but like the way ppl write him is soo good #an he a lil cutie patootie fr #nyway yeah #mha x bottom male reader #dabi x bottom male reader #bottom male reader #male reader insert #x black male reader #male reader smut #splataii writes

2K notes · View notes

ms-demeanor · 10 months

Note

since twitter has become actively hostile to its users, so they came to tumblr, and reddit has become actively hostile to its users, so they came to tumblr, what do we do now that tumblr is becoming (more) actively hostile to its users? i’ve been here for over a decade so i know tumblr users are the type to cling on despite everything and revel in undoing every change, but i’m so tired of the way this website breaks the way it fundamentally works in order to appeal to new users. the twitterfication of the site seems so much worse than when people jumped ship after the porn ban, and even then, only small communities (and twitter) cropped up as solutions. you might not be the person to ask for a definitive answer, but i figured a tech blog might be interested in considering - what do we do when there’s nowhere left to go?

Okay so, I mean this very seriously: how has tumblr meaningfully become like twitter?

I don't personally find the sidebar view obnoxious and it seems to me like just another layout change that's pretty typical to tumblr. New users are getting signed up with a bit more emphasis on algorithmic feeds, but that is still very easy to change (MUCH easier than on any other social platform) and the algorithm has been there for everyone for quite a while, we just typically don't notice it because a lot of long-term tumblr users don't go into the "for you" feed.

I don't think that tumblr *has* fundamentally broken the way that it works to appeal to new users. My dash now is still very much like my dash in 2019, and still very much like my dash in 2018 (though much less pornographic). Reblogs are still reblogs, likes are still likes. Replies, for all that they seem like they've been around forever, are new and good and I think they work well. I'm irritated that the notes menu doesn't have a "view all" option but I think that's a worthwhile tradeoff for an easy way to see tags.

I *do not* understand why tumblr has broken linking back to previous reblogs but I don't think that's out of an effort to act like twitter; it is a bizarre choice that I dislike and don't understand but I also don't think that it has fundamentally changed the way the site works and i mean you've been around long enough that I'm sure you've had the same experience I have of going into the notes of a post and randomly clicking until you found a version that you wanted to reblog without a bunch of bullshit at the bottom. Tumblr has always kind of sucked, this change DOES suck but it doesn't suck in a way that is particularly novel or insurmountable. (For instance, I think this change sucks MUCH LESS than when they made posts with links invisible to the search, that is something that is genuinely bad that has been long lasting but doesn't get brought up much in lists of the ways that tumblr has gone wrong)

Tumblr *is* changing, but I think it is changing more incrementally and less terribly than other parts of the internet. I also hate the floating clown, the login walls, the dash-only view for blogs (you can't archive it and I HATE that), and - to an extent - the new lightbox on mobile. And I dislike that less than I thought I would but I don't think it's a fundamental change that necessarily impacts my interactions with the site - it *adds* a feature that I don't care for but it doesn't *break* anything that I require to have a good time on tumblr - in that way I think of it very much like Live. People hate Live so much and I find that perplexing because it is so easy to simply ignore it.

But that's not really your question; that's just some stuff I want people to think about because as much as tumblr has changed in the last two years it is nowhere near as fucked up as the recent things that twitter and reddit have pulled.

So, as to your question: where do we go?

Well. Not to be an extremely old person on the internet, but damned if I don't miss email lists. And forums. God I miss forums. Neither of those things has all the bonuses of platforms like twitter or reddit or tumblr or facebook, but they were great ways to hang out with people you liked on the internet.

The internet is changing. I can feel it, you can feel it, I'm pretty sure we're all like cattle in a field lifting our noses and hearing some distant rumbling and becoming slowly aware that it's almost time to run. There's a coming stampede and it isn't here yet but you know it's on its way. You're not imagining that, that's how things feel right now and there are a shitload of things contributing to it.

Things like SESTA/FOSTA and KOSA (which has not passed yet but is a big red flag waving on the horizon) have been eroding away the way that users on various platforms can function. Some platforms have consolidated in ways that harm users; some new platforms have popped up and shaken up the map of the internet; some platforms are being torn apart brick by brick by owners who don't care about the users. It kind of seems like people are actually looking up and realizing that advertising is A) bad and B) doesn't actually work and I think we're running straight toward another advertising-based crash like we saw in 2017. It feels like all the desperate things that tumblr is doing is just rearranging deck chairs on the titanic as the internet as a whole starts to sink into the ocean.

Honestly, I don't think it's that bad. I think it *feels* bad, but I think we're looking at a slow whimpering death of the platforms, not a bang. I think tumblr is going to hang on at least for a few years and I think it's going to end up like livejournal and myspace, which both still exist as websites that are recognizable as updated versions of the sites they were in 2004-2010. The thing that I think would really, honestly hurt tumblr in a fundamental way is if it moved to a more algorithmic and data-sales based model of advertising, and I think that's still pretty distant. I think Automattic is aware that killing the chronological feed would be the one unforgivable sin that would cause a mass exodus and a final crash, and I think when we see that, when we can't just scroll through the feed and see what our friends did that day in order of when they did it, that's when the party is over here.

But that's still not answering your question.

So, where do we go? What do we do? Well, for now, I'd say it's a good time to get contact info for your friends across various platforms. Get email addresses, get phone numbers.

Now is also the time for you to set up a personal website. NeoCities is currently the best place to do this, though it takes a lot more effort than just starting a blog on tumblr. I think that various oldschool blogging sites like Wordpress and Blogger/Blogspot/whatever the hell the google one is are a better place to have your emergency backup than a more platform-y platform if you aren't up to doing something with NeoCities.

If you've got the ability to do so and a group of people who are interested in the same core subject, set up a forum. There's a decent amount of off-the-shelf forum software out there and a text-and-small-images forum isn't prohibitively expensive, but it's never going to be huge and you're never going to have the kind of spread and virality and random connections that you would on a platform with millions or billions of users.

If you can't set up a forum, setting up or joining a discord server for your friends is a decent enough option at the moment, and may be a very good option for people who are looking to keep their interactions more private.

But yeah i think right now is a great time for people to start setting up their own personal websites, to start visiting actual webpages again, to start bookmarking their friends' websites, and to start collecting contact info that isn't tied to platforms.

870 notes · View notes

ilovejoostklein · 20 days

Text

Bad Journalism

You’re an annoying journalist trying to get a story out of Joost, but he knows that’s not what you really want // joost x fem!reader

nsfw: smut, one shot

The news that Joost was disqualified had sent shock waves through the entirety of the Eurovision. You heard the news first through whispers, not believing it at first until it was in every headline, plastered over every local news channel, and blowing up all your group chat messages.

You felt bad for him more than anything. Your heart sunk for him, especially when some of your colleagues had not one bit of empathy for him, and were itching to corner him for a story. You’d passed him a few times in the hallway, smiling at him or waving, he was like a beam of sunshine in every room and captivated the audience with infectious excitement and charisma. You didn’t want to admit it, but you found him incredibly attractive. You found yourself scrolling through his socials late at night and never missed any of his rehearsals. It was clear he was the favorite, and it was all ruined for him now.

It was the heat of the moment, tensions were at an all-time high. Everyone at Eurovision, both behind closed doors and in hushed voices out in the lounge areas, and everyone on social media who followed the competition talked about Joost. It was all in whispers, yet completely in your face at the same time. No one could avoid it, it was more than an elephant in the room at this point.

As a journalist, it was like a mosquito constantly looming at your shoulder, irritating you that you could do nothing about it in good conscience. Your boss was hounding you and your colleagues for someone to get a word out of him, incentivizing you all to no end with bonuses, paid vacation time, or even a promotion. It didn’t help that journalists from other papers and countries all shared the same ambition, and some were far more aggressive and weren’t afraid to make it known. You wondered if those shared smiles meant anything at all, and if there was a chance he’d be more receptive to give you a statement rather than the other journalists who didn’t have the best intentions.

You tried to formulate a plan to gently approach him and try to get even a sentence out of him. Your conscience wrestled with each other. Your boss zeroed in on all of you specifically soon. He complained that you and a few other colleagues in particular weren’t performing up to par, and he was threatening termination.

“A lot of you are proving yourselves to be dead weight, you especially. You can show you deserve to be on this team by getting a story.”

You fell into a panicked state of anxiety for the next few days. You could barely sleep or eat knowing that your livelihood was now on the line. You’d been so excited that you secured a job at a top company, and now it was all in jeopardy over this nightmare of a situation. The journalists were now in their competition, and that alongside your boss’s threats gave you a new sense of determination.

You waited for the evening when you learned that Joost would be down for a mandatory meeting with members of the EBU. You gave false tips to other journalists who heard about the meeting as well, who believed you hesitantly, but you’d made yourself seem non-threatening and docile since the very beginning. In a way, it still held. It took everything inside of you to keep the shakiness of your voice hidden, and you concealed your nervous body language as harmless fidgeting.

You noticed him come out, and it was as if it was a different person. The room filled with anxiety and anger, from the both of you. His face was concerning stern, he dressed in basic, dark colors instead of his usual fun, unique outfits that always drew attention. He was alone, and like the fox you were, you cornered him.

“Hi, Joost.” You greeted him, immediately approaching him. “Did you just leave a meeting with the EBU?”

You glanced over at you, his eyebrows knitting together as if there was some sort of betrayal. He vaguely recognized you from the fleeting glances in the hallway, a bit disappointed knowing that you were just like all the others.

“I’m in a bit of a rush.” He mumbled, hoping that it would be enough to shut you down. “I’m sorry.”

You were so overcome with adrenaline you didn’t hear him, doubling down you continued to pester him. “Can you say anything about your disqualification?” You asked, seeing a blush immediately appear on the apples of his cheeks. “Is it true you assaulted someone?”

It was like a switch was flipped. You felt yourself grow cold immediately at the way he looked at you with deep offense. You’d jumped your questions prematurely, not giving him time to warm up to you, or even intelligently posing them. You’d made a complete mess of things and your failure plunged you into mania. There was no going back now, you’d either get a story out of him or make one.

Joost ignored you, he had to unless he wanted to make matters worse for himself. If you were a man, and not a woman looming at his side, staring up at him with big doe eyes and a blush that rivaled his own he would’ve pushed you away. He desperately wanted to take your stupid phone and throw it across the room before telling you to fuck off, but he tried to keep himself level-headed. He repeated like a mantra that all he needed to do was get into the elevator and go to his room, then it would be over. If you followed him then he’d have good reason to call security to haul you away.

He didn’t anticipate that you would use the fact he couldn’t hurt you to your advantage. You weren’t sure what came over you either, shocking yourself as much as you shocked Joost you yanked off his headphones from his neck and ran towards the elevator.

He chased after you without thinking, rushing past the closing silver doors as you desperately pushed the button to try to shut him out but your efforts were in vain. Your eyes shot open and you felt yourself move to the corner of the elevator, clutching the heavy, expensive headphones to your chest. Your breathing was erratic, you rendered yourself speechless as the man stood mere inches away from you.

“What the fuck is your problem?” He questioned in a low tone that bubbled with anger. “Give it back.”

“Answer my questions.” The calmness of your voice shocked you, and you looked up at him like it was an implicit dare. You knew as well as he did that he had no intention to hurt you.

“Don’t do this.” He pleaded, his head falling to the side. Yet still, his tone was angry and his body language rigid. He held out his hand, “Just give it back, and we have no problems. Ok?”

“No.” You stood your ground, hearing the elevator ding open to his vacant floor.

“No?” He laughed in disbelief. “Are you serious?”

You didn’t say anything, feeling yourself on the verge of tears from the intensity of the situation you left the elevator and walked down the hall aimlessly as he called after you in a hushed tone. You knew it wasn’t out of gentleness, but because he didn’t want to cause a scene like you had. You felt like you completely lost sight of yourself, you’d played dirty and this was exactly the kind of journalism you abhorred.

“Come here.” Joost began to approach you as if you were a wounded animal, “Just give it back, and I’ll answer three of your questions.”

“Really?” You asked, surprised by the easy defeat. He nodded, his face so genuine that you completely believed him.

You handed the headphones back and he practically ripped them from you, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Now go away before I call the police on you.” He spat. “Verdomde eikel.” He mumbled under his breath as he turned to walk back to his room.

You were overcome by the same adrenaline that you felt when he walked out of the conference room. You followed him to his room, no matter how many times he told you to fuck off and slammed the door in your face you weren’t going away until he gave you what you wanted.

You knocked on the door until your knuckles were raw and aching. Almost an hour went by, some people peering out of their rooms but ultimately paying you no mind. Joost finally opened the door, just enough to peer out with one of the locks to keep you two separated in case you tried another one of your stupid tricks.

“I don’t want to call the police on you.” He seemed to have calmed down, the cigarettes and alcohol in his breath further indicating it. “Go away, you’re too pretty to be acting like this.”

You huffed in frustration, “I’m trying to help you.” you tried to make something up as you went, “The other journalists tried to wait for you, I told them a lie to get them to go away. If you give me a story you won’t have to worry about them as much.”

“Ah, well.” He shrugged, “I’ll take my chances. Goodnight now.”

You put your arm in the door, a last effort to prevent him from shutting you out again. “Please, Joost.” You said shamelessly, now feeling like you’d just had a dopamine crash and all that was left was shame.

He looked at you for a moment, head coming to the side his head eyes narrowed almost inquisitively before he busted out in laughter. “Oh fuck, I hope you’re not who I think you are.” He said amid his mockery, burning tears immediately forming in your eyes, “What’s your name?”

You mumbled your name pathetically, your head somewhat bowed to avoid eye contact before he howled in laughter, “No fucking way.” He repeated over and over, the mockery hitting you like nails and making you bleed with miserable shame all over him. “You’re the journalist, my friend told me about you.”

You realized why his reaction was so over the top, and if anything it was warranted.

You recall when it was only the second day of the competition, everything was still in the very early and most exciting stages. You shared the elevator with a man from the Netherlands, tall, curly hair and dark skin. He complimented your shoes, you complimented his back and you two made small talk. He said that he was just an enthusiastic fan, something that you now knew was a white lie, and asked you about your job and what you thought of the performers.

“I like your guy from the Netherlands.” You said, smiling at him. “I’d fuck him.”

His eyes widened, and he looked at you in disbelief for a second before smiling back. “Yeah.” He finally said. “Me too.”

You didn’t know how you could be so clueless, and how you didn’t connect the dots that it was him in that costume performing alongside Joost all this time. He had captivated you so much, that you hardly paid any mind to the other performers, as talented as they were, much less his two friends at the side of the stage.

“You just wanna fuck me, huh?” He questioned in a sarcastic, degrading tone. “Are you even a journalist?”

You stayed silent, knowing that whatever you said would just make everything a million times worse, or even make you completely break down. It was again, like everything you were doing at this point an empty effort. The tears fell on your face like pieces of hot coal, burning your skin in sorrow and embarrassment. Your chest constricted in quiet sobs, you didn’t understand why your feet felt sewn to the carpeted floors and your arms bound to the doorknob of his room.

Joost expected this, he could tell from the way your once vibrantly pretty face lost all its color and your eyes became low and glossy that you had lost your strength. He knew someone like you was weak, hardly cut out of this type of journalism. He felt bad almost, knowing you would do much better tucked away in an office, away from people like himself whose personalities completely overpowered yours. He was a performer, after all, so he couldn’t blame you. Joost knew he was soft underneath this hard exterior, and no matter how badly you offended him he couldn’t bear to see you so upset at his expense.

“Alright.” He relented, sighing and unlocking the door completely as a form of surrender. “I will make a deal with you.”

Your face was buried in your hands, trying to stop and wipe away the tears to the best of your ability, but you still managed to nod.

“Either you come in here, I answer the three questions you asked about.” He offered, “Or, you come in here and I fuck you, and I don’t answer anything.”

If you couldn’t stand to look him in the eye before, you certainly couldn’t do it now. “The second one.” Your voice was strained, weighed down by your sobs it was nothing less than humiliating.

You heard Joost’s chest jerk in laughter, and he didn’t have to verbalize how pathetic he thought you were. You were fully worn down now, accepting defeat and realizing that you were so deeply depraved to choose physical pleasure over your literal job. He let you in, shutting the door behind you heard nothing but the turning of bolts and his soft footsteps. There was no turning back now, even if you came to your senses, there was no way your body would allow it.

“Wait for me in my bedroom.” He said all too casually, “I’m going to have a cigarette.”

The white hotel sheets were cold and uninviting under your warm skin. You began to undress down to your underwear, it was unassuming, the fact that it was black and matching was your only saving grace at sexiness. You found yourself waiting for several minutes, but as you clutched your knees to your chest and shivered from the notoriously harsh hotel air conditioning it felt like hours.

Joost seemed to be stringing you along, and enjoying every bit of it. He came back inside from the porch, walked into the bedroom, and paid you not even a glance before walking into the bathroom. You felt your humiliation plummet to new depths, especially when you heard him turn on the shower. The least he could do was say something, instead of walking past your almost naked body as if it was the least interesting thing in his room.

The excruciating wait ended once he left the bathroom, steaming and smelling of the freshest, most intoxicating body wash you’d ever smelled. It was perfectly masculine, eucalyptus and citruses you wanted to wrap yourself in it.

Joost approached you, watching as you crawled to the edge of the bed, looking up at him with your raw, puffy eyes it was almost erotic. You’d put yourself through so many emotions just to get a word out of him for your pathetic little job, and now you were on his bed, desperate for his touch.

He was always a man of his word, so naturally, he was a little ashamed that he tricked you earlier and wanted to make it up to you by not forcing you to beg for him. He unwrapped the towel, his cock springing loose in front of your face. Your face gave away your reaction, showing him that you weren’t used to his size and stroking his ego a little more.

“Go ahead.” He encouraged, “I hope you’re better at this than you are at interviewing.”

You took him into your mouth eagerly. It was almost like a wish being fulfilled, or being in a dream your depraved mind had conjured up. He felt incredible in your mouth, the way your lips stretched over him and how the tip nudged at the back of your throat did nothing but excite you. You hummed and moaned against him in contentment, the vibrations on his cock driving him wild. Your mouth was perfect, and you had something to prove. This was exactly what you wanted, you weren’t sure who the winner here was.

Joost couldn’t let you have the upper hand, not yet at least. He grabbed your head and held it into place before he began to fuck your mouth. He wasn’t relentless, even if he wished he could be as the reminder of how you pestered him sat at the back of his mind. His thrusts were deep but mostly gentle. You gagged against him but breathed carefully through your nose and braced yourself with the rhythm he’d set. Saliva dribbled down your chin, your mouth so wet and warm he couldn’t imagine how it would feel like to fuck you.

The desire was too overwhelming, he was impatient and desperate now, withdrawing his cock from your mouth. Your eyes were watery again, this time for good reason. You coughed a bit, regaining a bit of composure before Joost grabbed a handful of your hair and brought you into a kiss.

It was the sloppiest, least romantic kiss you ever had. He shoved his tongue into your mouth and held you in place like you were an animal threatening to escape. Your body was aching almost unbearably now, you straddled him and pressed your pussy against his bare thigh and began grinding down on him with such desperation it made him chuckle into the kiss.

“Slut.” He muttered against your neck, you shuttered against him before you felt his teeth sink into your skin, just enough to make you gasp. “You like that?”

“Mhm.” You groaned, your hips still moving against him hardly getting what you needed. “Please fuck me, Joost.”

His hand returned to your hair, this time pulling it so that you’d face him. He smiled almost drunkenly, his eyes low and dazed, “Can I eat your pussy first?” He asked the smug look on his face anticipating your reaction.

He laid you down on your back. You were a bit glad he wanted to pay attention to you. You fully expected him to fuck you from behind and kick you out, it would’ve been understandable, especially from the way you were acting and the fact he probably had dozens of girls who would kill to be in your place.

You felt the power balance restored as he buried his face between your thighs. He was as eager as you had been, licking and sucking on your pussy as if you had made the deal with him. His thick mustache burned the tender skin between your thighs in the best way possible, a reminder of what he’d done for you that would last at least till the next day. You felt nothing but the warm, blanketing pleasure. It felt like you’d just had a drink, your nerves had settled and all that was on your mind was finishing all over his pretty mouth.

Your hands tangled in his hair, your back arched as you felt yourself grow closer. A part of you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of your thighs closing against the side of his face and moans pouring from your lips, but it happened regardless. Your body almost convulsed from the intensity, the pleasure making your body surrender and melt into his hands so much that you began apologizing.

“I’m sorry.” You muttered continuously, your orgasm coming at its peak and then rolling over you, “I’m sorry Joost.”

He didn’t say anything at first as his mind was foggy, and he was lapping up your pussy, avoiding your clit now to give you a moment of calmness and for his pleasure. You tasted good, and it was intoxicating for him.

“It’s ok, baby.” His tone had now sweetened with you, even if you knew it was mostly from the intimacy of the moment. “I know what you need.”

Joost was overtaken by how turned on you made him feel. He loved how he was putting you in your place, how he had softened the stone-like scowl on your face, the sharpness in your voice and movements to something so perfect. He kissed you again, this time just a few pecks before you felt him press the head of his cock against your pussy.

He rubbed up and down, every time he passed over your sensitive clit you jerked up in overstimulation. He had condoms in the dresser, but you hadn’t brought up the matter so he decided to disregard it. If anything he’d give you some money for the morning-after pill, but that was the last thing he wanted to worry about.

Joost groaned loudly, almost overly dramatic as he began to push himself inside of you. You trembled beneath him, letting out sounds of discomfort from how big he was, the sensation new to your body that you instinctively began to push him away with one hand and attempt to cover yourself with the other.

“Move your hand, please.” He told you, “I promise I’ll stop if it hurts.”

It was a bit of a struggle, he had to stop a few times to allow you to adjust yourself to his size before he was able to bottom you out. It was all worth it, the pestering and the headache to have you beneath him. He fucked you slowly at first, pulling out until only the tip of him was inside of you before plunging himself back inside of you. Your pussy squelched and squeezed around him, your eyes screwed shut as you brought him into an embrace.

Joost kissed you on the cheek, resting his face against you he picked up his pace until it was something almost punishing. The thoughts of what you had done before were now at the forefront of his mind, that horrible feeling intertwined with his passion for you. The sound of slapping skin filled the room, his grunts against your soft gasps. He hit the sweetest spot inside of you with every movement, the feeling so overwhelming you felt your orgasm building again. You tried to tell him, feeling as if hearing it would feel like a reward to him, but your body and mind were no longer one. The only thing that left your mouth was his name and desperate sounds of pleasure.

Joost felt you come all over his cock, your pussy clenching around him as you cried out into his shoulder. He knew now he wasn’t going to last any longer, his movements becoming sloppy and the feeling of no friction, just how wet you were for him sending him over the edge. He would’ve loved to last longer, but he soon found himself pulling out and pumping himself over your body before coming undone all over your stomach.

He marked your body, warm cum falling against your stomach and breasts as you were cooling down from the nearly out-of-body experience. Joost looked down at you, breathing heavily it was almost like he was admiring his work. He’d left bruises against your neck, your hair was disheveled, your face wet with tears, and the prettiest sight of all was that he’d finished all over you.

He wiped down your body softly, kissing you when he was done before climbing under the sheets. He brought you into his arms this time, cuddling with you for a while before he spoke,

“Are you hungry?” He asked in a whisper, you giggled in response and nodded.

“Alright.” He nodded, “Maybe I’ll answer some of your questions after.”

hope you guys enjoyed :) this is a cross post from my ao3 if you wanted to check it out there

#joost #joost klein #fanfic #smut #fem reader #joost klein x reader

375 notes · View notes

ataliagold · 2 months

Text

But My Heart Is Just A Little Boy

Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson

Rating: Teen (swearing)

W/C: 2012

Tags: Established Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, hurt/comfort, Steve Harrington has dyscalculia, Steve Harrington has self esteem issues, Steve Harrington needs a hug, fluff, light angst, DnD, Mike and Dustin are a little mean here

Notes: Just slowly posting some of my AO3 stuff here as well :) Title from Rattlesnake by Jack Van Cleaf.

___

Steve joining in on Eddie’s campaign was supposed to be a nice surprise for his boyfriend.

And it was; Eddie’s face had lit up with joy when Steve had walked in and sat down with the kids around the table. Steve had taken the dice Dustin had loaned him and lined them up in front of him, from the D4 (the funny triangle one) up to the D20 (the one with heaps of sides, Steve reminded himself.)

If he kept them in that order it would help him pick the right dice quickly, he’d decided.

Because he wanted this to go to perfectly.

Eddie had been asking him to join in on a game for months, but Steve had so far refused, only coming along sometimes to watch quietly. There were parts of it that piqued his interest – namely the combat and the creatures Eddie planted into the game, because some of them were so damn cool even if Steve wouldn’t readily admit it out loud. A small part of him, a much younger part that had loved fairy tales and stories about knights and dragons and sword fights before his father had confiscated those books, deeming them too childish, watched with a quiet giddiness as the kids battled all manner of beasts.

But much of the game was so complicated - there were so many numbers, and Steve had no idea how Eddie and the kids managed to keep track of everything, how they added dice values together so damn quickly and kept track of a seemingly endless list of stats and bonuses and modifiers, whatever the hell they were.

Eddie knew about his difficulty with numbers. He’d seen the way Steve had to count with his fingers, how it took him far too fucking long to do a simple equation, how he stood in Melvald’s staring at the price of something just trying to make the numbers make sense so they wouldn’t blow their grocery budget.

And Eddie was patient, always. But D&D was Eddie’s realm, his place to shine, and Steve was so worried about holding him back and ruining the game every time he had to pause to add two fucking dice together.

Finally, he’d caved. Secretly, with Dustin’s help, he’d put a character sheet together. He’d made a paladin because Dustin had told him it suited him. Steve made him strong and lawful good, just like the knights he used to read about as a little boy. Dustin had rolled his eyes a little at that but Steve had been quite proud of what he’d put together.

Plus, Dustin had promised to help him with the math.

But here Steve was, well over an hour into the campaign, and he was struggling.

Cheeks burning, he turned to Dustin yet again.

“Wait, which one am I rolling?” he whispered.

Dustin rolled his eyes. The kid had been patient at first, but it was beginning to wear thin.

Steve was beginning to wear thin.

“The D10, Steve,” Dustin hissed.

“Right,” Steve nodded, grabbing for one of the dice.

“That’s the D8, Steve,” Mike said wearily.

Steve’s cheeks flushed even hotter, and he grabbed the other dice, rolling it quickly.

“Ahhh...seven,” Steve announced.

“You slash at the goblin, your blade cutting deep into its chest, the creature gurgling and reeling backwards…” Eddie leant over the table, giving a dramatic recount of events.

Steve smiled, unable to help it. His boyfriend was having such a good time, and even if Steve wasn’t enjoying himself so much, well, that was ok. He could do this, for Eddie.

“…but it scrabbles back to its feet, weak but alive,” Eddie finishes.

Mike groaned and slapped the table.

“It has to be almost dead,” Lucas announced.

“Yeah, but there’s still four others,” Mike pointed out.

“This one must be on two hit points or less,” Will surmised.

How did he know that? Steve frowned, let the kids talk amongst themselves. His gaze wandered over to Eddie, watching him lean back in his chair, eyes shining. He shot a wink at Steve when he caught him looking, then frowned a little, obviously noticing Steve wasn’t looking all that comfortable.

You ok? He mouthed at him.

Steve nodded quickly.

But he felt small.

Grow the fuck up, you’re fine.

“…Steve!” Mike groaned.

Steve’s attention snapped back to the kids. “What?”

“Stop staring at Eddie and tell us how many hit points you’ve got left.”

“Um…” Steve glanced down at the piece of paper in front of him. He’d scribbled some numbers down like Dustin had told him to every time his character had taken damage, but there were a lot of numbers there and he wasn’t sure they all actually related to his hit points…

“Give it here,” Dustin snatched the paper from him impatiently, peering down at it.

Steve waited while Dustin assessed his work, the feeling vaguely reminiscent of being back in school, his teachers reading over his work with a disappointed shake of their heads.

“This can’t be right, Steve,” Dustin sighed. “It says you’re on twelve hit points…is that a twelve? Your writing’s messy.”

Steve nodded. “Yours isn’t much better, pea-brain,” he mumbled, just to shoot something back at the kid.

Dustin narrowed his eyes at him. “You must have less than that because of the damage you took in the last round. You’re probably down to…eight at the most, by now.”

“Just make it eight, then,” Steve grumbled.

“Eight it is, big boy,” Eddie agreed.

“It doesn’t work like that, though,” Mike huffed. “You actually have to keep track of this stuff Steve, there’s no point playing if you just make the numbers up.”

“It doesn’t matter, really,” Will tried to intervene quietly. “It can just be eight.”

Dustin picked up his pencil, drawing some columns on Steve’s paper. “Ok, so just use this one column to keep track of damage, don’t write all over the page. There’s your total hit points at the top, and every time you take damage, write it down under there, ok? And then just take it off the total. Simple.”

Like it was that fucking easy. Maybe for them, it was. They didn’t get every number mixed up in their brain, they didn’t stare at a single digit trying to put some numeric value behind it and coming up with zilch.

Dustin was trying to help, Steve knew. But his tone of voice was so fucking condescending that it had Steve squirming in his seat, wishing he was anywhere else.

He felt Eddie’s eyes on him.

“Come sit by me, Stevie, I’ll help you keep track.” Eddie said gently.

“You’ll just go easy on him, and that’s not fair!” Mike whined.

“Can it, Wheeler,” Eddie snapped at him.

“Just because he can’t do basic math.”

“Right, you get to roll with disadvantage now, just for that,” Eddie told him smugly.

Mike was retorting with something, but Steve didn’t hear it.

His pulse was thumping in his ears, his cheeks on fire. The years were stripped from him, the sensitive child he’d tucked away inside a long time ago forced to the surface.

“Look, just carry on without me,” Steve muttered, and stood up quick enough that his chair scraped on the floor.

“Steve -” Dustin started, but Steve was finished, striding towards the stairs and blinking back tears.

He wasn’t going to cry in front of the kids, not over a fucking game, not over something his boyfriend loved so much.

But they were coming faster than he could blink them back as he headed out of Mike’s stuffy basement and out to the driveway, the cold night air caressing his flushed face.

This was supposed to have been a treat for Eddie. It was supposed to be fun, and Steve had ruined the night by being fucking stupid.

A tear tracked down his cheek , Steve losing the battle against them. He’d just drive home, he decided. Steve had come straight from work that day, so Eddie had come separately in his van, he wouldn’t be inconvenienced.

And then they could finish their game in peace, without having to treat Steve like a five-year-old.

He was getting in the driver’s seat when Eddie ran to him, both hands reaching for him.

“Stevie…” Eddie murmured softly.

“I’m sorry,” Steve mumbled, dragging his sleeve across his face, smudging the tears there.

“Why? The kids were being assholes, I’ve already yelled at them.”

Steve shook his head. “I was just slowing everyone down, they were getting frustrated, I get it.”

“No, sweetheart, they were being rude,” Eddie corrected him. “Especially Wheeler.” Eddie brushed his thumbs across Steve’s cheeks, crouching down beside the open driver’s door. “I’ve told them to pull their heads in. Do you…do you want to come back inside?”

“Eds…” Steve leant into his hands a little. “I’m no good at it. I really wanted to try, for you, and I’m so sorry I ruined it, but there’s too many numbers and I can’t keep track of everything and it takes me so fucking long and it’s embarrassing because I can’t even keep up with a bunch of kids, and I just feel like I’m back at school again.”

Eddie cupped his cheeks again, tilting Steve’s head to look at him. “Hey. You haven’t ruined anything, they did. I’m so happy you came along tonight, because I know you did it for me. But look, D&D doesn’t have to be your thing -”

“But -”

“It doesn’t,” Eddie cut in. “Just like…your balls in laundry basket games aren’t mine. But I like hanging around while you and Wayne watch them, and I love how excited you get about it, and how you sit there with that fucking pretty smile…”

Steve huffed out a small laugh, and Eddie grabbed his wrist to press a kiss to the inside of it.

“But I don’t know what’s going on most of the time,” Eddie continued. “It makes you happy, and that’s enough for me. So, I don’t want you to feel like you have to play D&D just for me if it’s not something you enjoy. It’s more than enough that you listen to my ideas, that you help me write -”

“I don’t really,” Steve said quietly.

“You do! Or have you forgotten who came up with that fucking amazing twist with the elven prince?”

“I got it from a movie,” Steve argued.

“So? I didn’t think of it, and it had the little shrimps completely stumped.”

Steve managed a small smile. “I do like some of the stories,” he admitted quietly. “But I think…I just wanna go home, ok? You can carry on.”

Eddie shook his head. “I’m gonna get them to pack up in there. I’ll drop them home, then follow you back, ok?”

“Steve?” came Dustin’s voice from behind Eddie, small and hesitant.

Steve quickly straightened up in his seat, wiping a hand across his face.

“Yeah, buddy?” he replied, his voice a little hoarse.

“I’m…I’m sorry. That we weren’t more patient. It’s ok if you struggle with numbers, and we should’ve helped more.”

“It’s ok, Dusty,” Steve told him.

Eddie frowned, reached down to squeeze Steve’s hand, then turned to Dustin. “It isn’t ok,” he argued. “But it was nice of you to apologize.”

Dustin nodded. “If you want to try again sometime, I promise I’ll help more. I…I really liked having you play.”

“Thanks,” Steve managed.

“Tell Wheeler to start crafting his apology too,” Eddie said firmly, still cradling Steve’s hand in his own. “Otherwise he’s rolling with disadvantage for the whole next session.”

Dustin’s eyes widened a little before he nodded.

After packing up, the kids waited sheepishly by Eddie’s van. Eddie stayed crouched next to Steve a moment longer.

“Go home, get comfy on the couch, and pick out any movie you want to watch, ok?” Eddie murmured to him. “When I get home I’m gonna order us some pizza, and I’m gonna cuddle the shit out of you, understand?”

Steve laughed softly. “Sounds perfect.”

“Good. I’ll see you soon, sweetheart.”

___

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #hurt/comfort #fluff #steve harrington/eddie munson

176 notes · View notes

giorno-plays-piano · 8 months

Text

Office Menace

Pairing: boss!Toji Fushiguro x reader

Warnings: dubcon, power play, unhealthy work dynamics, swearing, smut, attempt at humor.

Words: 1.4k

Summary: Being your boss' favorite employee is no easy task.

_________

Toji Fushiguro is the type of boss everyone hates and loves at the same type.

There wasn't a day he actually showed up on time. All his calls before 11 am end up being sent to his voicemail, regardless of the situation. Emails? He has his secretary sort all of his stuff for him. Reports? Haven't done one himself in a very long while. Overtime? Never for him, of course. He's outta there long before 5 pm. His employees, though? It's better not to ask.

He's such a slacker most people who don't work close with him wonder how he ended up as a vice president, overseeing a department of more than 50 employees. This guy probably spends more time in a gym than in his office.

But his people know why Toji is here, thriving even more than an utter workaholic Nanami Kento. Despite his seeming lack of interest and necessary skills to handle the job, Toji is sharp and observant, and his problem-solving ability is god-tier. Unlike many of you, he never sweats the small stuff. There wasn't a day when he cracked under pressure, even when one of your biggest suppliers suddenly went out of business, leaving you hanging on a thread with a horrifying deficit of goods. Even Geto was on a verge of a mental breakdown that day, but your boss just left the room, made a couple of calls, and returned an hour later with three more factories willing to pull the weight of that bankrupt supplier with less than one month delay. It was a freaking miracle. You still aren't sure how he managed to do it, but it's likely thanks to his impressive network and a sixth sense: Toji Fushiguro can smell smoke long before fire starts. He never comes unprepared.

That's not why his employees love him, though. Regardless of their annoyance at his style of work, they rarely leave because Toji is one of the few bosses who values his resources, and his resources are his people. When the company was going through a severe restructuring, letting go of more than a third of its workers, Toji's department retained the majority of his employees. He fought for them over and over until he wore down higher management and HRs so much they started avoiding him like the plague. To this day, some of your coworkers remind him of his heroic feat when they get drunk enough at the corporate parties.

Besides, while most of you do unpaid overtime, you get rewarded for it with bonuses and other perks like additional vacation days he somehow beats out of management. "We work hard and play hard," says Toji before he goes out for lunch at 12 and disappears from the office for the rest of the day.

He is, surely, a legend.

Jokes aside, you still remember vividly one day when you were supposed to have a significant presentation in front of the heads of departments, including Gojo, Geto, and Kento, and an hour before you discovered a mistake in your calculations because you collected data from the wrong time period. Blood drained from your face when you realized you had an hour to re-do all the formulas that could possibly change the outcome of the whole analysis you had spent weeks working on. If you didn't make it right, your mistake would affect all the crucial decisions made while developing the new collection. You were done.

When Toji found you a couple of minutes later, nearly sobbing and shaking in your seat, he quietly took a chair, sat next to you, and asked you to explain what the problem was. After you told him, biting your lips to shreds, he shrugged, compared the raw data from those two periods, found 4% difference in sales, and asked you to leave the report be. The change was insignificant. It wasn't going to affect the outcome of your analysis, and no one would even see your mistake. They would, however, see your puffy face and think you're unfit to give presentations of this sort if you couldn't handle the pressure.

So Toji just brought you a glass of water, told you to go powder your nose, and left as you stared at his broad back, unblinking, unsure if you wanted to keep crying or fly to him and kiss him all over his handsome face instead.

Least to say, Toji Fushiguro will always be a legend to you, regardless of circumstances.

Or not, given the situation you are in right now, your boss standing right behind your back with his hand not-so-subtly caressing your ass.

You bite down on your lower lip, thinking feverishly if you need to scream - given it's 9 pm and the office is empty - or smack him and run for your life. Both options seem worthless, and, to make it worse, you suck at confronting people. Especially someone as menacing and effortlessly cool as your boss.

While you're stuck in your thoughts, Toji moves his hand to pull your skirt up, and his large hand cups your pussy through your panties as you squeal. His breath warms your ear when you finally manage to utter a single, "S-Sir?"

You can feel him smile against your skin, his lips on your neck. "Sh-h-h. You're safe with me. I won't do anything you don't want."

Respectfully, you are a liar, Sir, you think because you sure as Hell don't want him to stuck his hand between your thighs and do this. Sleeping with your boss, even if he's as handsome as Toji Fushiguro, is a bad fucking idea. But you can't for the life of you get those words out of your mouth, and his fingers are already stroking your clit as you breath out loudly, shivering against his large form.

"Sh-h-h-h," he repeats, making you lean onto him as he moves your panties to the side, his other hand gently caressing your throat. "It's just me. I won't hurt you."

You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to at least make it seem like you find his touch repulsive. Your brain refuses to recognize the fact your boss is actually forcing you to have sex with him. Toji Fushiguro? The man who's paying your salary? The one person who's been anything but respectful to you and your colleagues? It must be a mistake. He'd never do anything like that to you, one of his favorite employees.

He does enjoy having power over you, though, given the satisfaction on his face whenever you call him "Sir" despite how outdated it seems to use this word in a business setting. He wears this strange expression every time you wholeheartedly compliment him on helping his team with something only he can do like he's some sort of your personal hero. You didn't think much of it, but now it seems like...

Oh god, he's so fucking good at fingering you bite back a moan, afraid to make a sound. He's been teasing your swollen clit so much your pussy is drenched, and your knees are trembling. What the fuck? He only just touched you.

"Feels good, huh?" He whispers in your ear as you squirm, desperately clenching the desk in front of you for support. "Wish I could eat you out right here."

"S-sir!"

Apparently, it's the only thing you can say while he fingerfucks you, his long, thick digits working your sex, his other hand lightly squeezing your throat. You grow feverish at his touch, unintentionally rubbing against his crotch as your pussy tightens around his fingers, and Toji exhales into your skin.

He doesn't give you a second to think, pumping his fingers in and out of you as if he wants you to think with you pussy, his hand on your throat squeezing it till you are a bit lightheaded, you hole growing tighter.

Everything else happens like in a dream with you cumming on his fingers before he turns your head to him and forces his tongue inside your mouth. He's magic. You still think it's wrong for him to do it to you, but it feels good, and you are far too intimidated by him to say a word against it when you feel his huge boner pressed against your ass. It feels so fucking good.

But Toji ends it there, carefully pulling your skirt down before he hands you a pack of napkins you keep on your table. When you look at him, bewildered it's ended just like that, he laughs and tells you to be a good girl and meet him tomorrow at 7. He's far from done with you.

_______

Tags: @minshookie29

#toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji smut #jjk toji #jujutsu kaisen #jjk

487 notes · View notes