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daisynik7 · 6 months

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Rub You the Right Way

Pairing: Choso x f!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Word Count: ~4.1k

cw: female reader, 2nd-person POV, explicit language, explicit sexual content, smut – oral sex (cunnilingus, fellatio), hand job, face-riding, face-fucking, use and mention of sex toys, cum eating

Summary: You've always been cordial with your shy next-door neighbor Choso. One day, you receive the package you've been expecting, finding out a little too late that it isn't your package at all; it's his. What you find inside makes you wonder that maybe your sweet and quiet neighbor has wild side, one you’re curious to see for yourself.

Author’s Notes: First Choso fic! Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are not expected but always appreciated. Consider this my unofficial return from hiatus. Enjoy! Divider by the wonderful and super talented @/cafekitsune!

part 7 of to all the boys who live next door anthology series

The trek home from the office is especially grueling today. Your backpack is heavy with a clunky work laptop that’s been due for an upgrade along with a pile of documents that need to be reviewed ASAP. One hand carries the dinner you bought at the station while the other hoists a heavy bag of groceries you picked up during lunch, thinking it would be productive to get as much of your errands done today before hunkering down for the weekend to do a job that doesn’t pay you enough to work overtime.

You eventually arrive to your apartment complex, making one more necessary pit stop to the mail room. Inside, you recognize the distinct pink-hair of the boy standing in front of the lockers. He’s your next-door neighbor’s younger brother who visits from time-to-time. “Hi Yuji!” you beam at him.

He turns to face you, eyes crinkling happily as he smiles. “Hey! How’s it going?”

You drop your bags to open your own locker. “I’m alright. Got a busy weekend working. And you?”

He kneels down towards the boxes in front of him. “Same, except studying for exams.”

“Are you picking up your brother’s packages?” It’s a well-known fact by now that Choso isn’t fond of leaving his apartment or interacting with people in general. It doesn’t bother you though; he’s a great neighbor who barely makes a peep. Never has he ever rubbed you the wrong way, despite his reclusive nature. Sometimes, through his brother, he’ll give you an offering of cookies from the batch he baked that week. On the days you’re working overtime, he’ll send Yuji to check in on you, making sure you’re not too stressed or overexerted. And on the rare occasion that the two of you meet face-to-face, either entering or leaving the apartment at the same time, your heart skips just the tiniest beat at how his face softens when you greet him with a smile. From these tiny gestures alone, you’ve determined that Choso Kamo is a sweetheart. Quiet, but most importantly, a sweetheart.

Yuji slides the stack out from Choso’s locker, answering you. “Yup. I also had some stuff delivered here, so I figured I’d just grab everything.”

You stare at the small package in your own locker, evaluating how you’re going to carry it to your room in one trip. There’s no space in any of the bags and you’re almost convinced that you can balance it on top of your head as if you actually possess the proper skills to do so (you don’t). “Need help?” Yuji chuckles. Before you answer, he grabs it, placing it on top of a box similar in size on his stack.

“Thank you so much!”

As the elevator rides to the third floor, you continue to chat casually with Yuji. The two of you walk to your neighboring rooms and when he reaches for his keys, the stack topples over, the boxes now strewn across on the hallway floor. He blushes, collecting them hastily back into a neat pile. “I’m sorry, I hope there isn’t anything fragile in there.” He quickly slides you a box, avoiding your gaze to hide his embarrassment.

It's new office supplies you ordered for your workstation at home, so you hardly care even if there is a bit of damage done. “Don’t worry about it, it’s all good,” you assure him, using your foot to push it towards your front door. “Thank you for your help, Yuji. Tell your brother I say hi.”

“Will do. Have a good night.”

Finally home, you drop all your belongings, letting out a relieved sigh. One-by-one, you put everything away: the groceries in their appropriate places, your lukewarm dinner in the microwave, and all your work junk on the dining table, where you’ll be sat at for most of this weekend starting tomorrow. You save the package for later, planning to refill your supplies tonight so you don’t have to worry about it the next morning.

You soon find out that something even better is waiting for you inside.

~~~

Choso is sprawled on the couch, too lazy to cook dinner. He ordered delivery from Yuji’s favorite pizza joint a few blocks away, which should be arriving any minute now, according to his calculations. When he hears the door open, he sits up, watching his brother enter with a tower of boxes in his hands. “I don’t remember ordering that much stuff,” he grumbles, standing up to help him.

“Most of these are mine. I think only this one is yours.” Yuji passes him a small box, which Choso quickly grabs to toss into his room, hoping to avoiding any questions about it. Truth be told, the contents of that box is way too embarrassing to explain to his precious baby brother. Inside is the sex toy he recently purchased online. It’s essentially a silicone cock sleeve, open on both ends for simple clean-up, made entirely of pliable material for ease and comfort. To put it simply, it’s a fleshlight. A state-of-the-art, new and improved fleshlight, he would like to emphasize. He’s been looking forward to using it all week and once Yuji leaves tonight, he’s going to give it a proper test run until he’s a puddle in the sheets.

It’s been a while since Choso’s been intimate with someone other than himself. A few bad breakups and past betrayals have led him to distrust most people outside of his intimate circle. The unpredictable nature of people, strangers, is frightening to him, so it’s better to avoid them completely. He has the luxury of working a job that’s fully remote, and aside from his brothers and the few colleagues he is forced to converse with periodically, it’s easy for him to remain a recluse, and he’s perfectly content with that. As for his sexual needs, he’s managed to make it this far in this drought thanks to sex toys and pornography. And while he’s aware that it’s not the most glamorous lifestyle, it works for him.

“By the way, your neighbor says hi,” Yuji mentions, opening his packages one-by-one. “She came into the mailroom.”

Choso says your name in the form of a question to clarify, though he’s certain of the answer. The only other human contact he has outside his circle is with you, his next-door neighbor. He doesn’t leave the house much, but on the occasion he does, he always hopes it’s you he runs into. He often worries that one day, you’ll realize what a pathetic loner he is and stop showing him that gorgeous smile of yours. So far, that hasn’t happened yet, so he cherishes those tiny moments every chance he gets. Something about that smile, something about you, makes him feel good. Safe.

“Yup,” Yuji confirms. “She had her hands full, so I helped her carry a package.”

Before Choso can inquire any further, there’s a knock on the door, signaling the arrival of their pizza. After thanking the delivery man, the two gather at the dining table, ready to dig into their dinner. Choso listens intently as Yuji laments on his weekly occurring university woes with a mouth full of pepperoni and sausage. As much as he adores his younger brother, he’s eager for his departure so he can have alone time to break in his new toy.

At eleven, without a crumb left of the pizza and the recycling bin filled with flattened cardboard boxes, Yuji finally announces that he’s leaving. He stuffs his newly delivered items, which includes textbooks, notepads, and a bunch of miscellaneous items, in his bag. “I’ll see you next week, bro. Take care of yourself,” he says, squeezing his big brother into a warm embrace. There’s always the smallest hint of concern in his voice whenever he leaves like this. Does he worry about him? For living a life of seclusion, constantly in fear of the outside world? Sure, it may sound lonely. In fact, it is lonely. But it’s easier to stay safe in the comfort of his own home than risk being hurt from the unknown. It’s better this way…isn’t it?

Choso muses on his brother’s parting words in the silence of his apartment for much longer than he intends to. He decides that the best way to keep him from spiraling further is a distraction, and that means fucking himself silly into temporary bliss until he knocks out for the night. Hidden away in various drawers of his bedroom are a plethora of options to choose from: vibrators, masturbators, cock rings, even the sex doll tucked deep in his closet. Tonight, however, is all about his shiny new toy. Pristine and untouched for him to ruin as much as he wants. He picks it up from the floor, ripping the tape off quickly, too impatient to inspect the exterior for any potential damage. When a stapler drops, almost hitting his feet, he stares down at it, confused. Thinking it’s a weird bonus item the sex shop has sent him, he chuckles nervously, still searching. Each item he uncovers leaves him more and more baffled: a container of paper clips, a wad of sticky notes, bundles of red pens, another fucking stapler. Finally, he checks the shipping label ripped partially from his haste, whatever color remaining on his face draining completely.

This isn’t his. It’s yours.

Which means…

By the way, your neighbor says hi. She came into the mailroom.

She had her hands full, so I helped her carry a package.

Oh fuck.

~~~

It’s near midnight when you’re ready to turn in for the night. You almost forget about the box sitting idly on the floor by your shoes, exactly where you left it a few hours ago. With your computer all set up for work tomorrow, you think it’s best to organize your new supplies before you actually do forget. At your desk, you open the package with a pair of scissors, excited for the new staplers you bought, a standard one and a heavy duty one. It’s surprising how neatly it’s wrapped, covered in tissue paper like some sort of gift. After removing all the extra layers, you finally get to the reveal, which renders you speechless.

Nestled neatly amongst more delicate tissue paper, the translucent material almost luminous against the dim glow from the lamplight, is a sex toy. Call it what you want: a penis stroker, a male masturbator, a pocket pussy. There’s absolutely no doubt in your mind what is before you. A fucking fleshlight.

Besides the obvious appearance, the dead giveaway is the user manual included with it, displaying in big, bold print “The Cock Stroker 3000 – New and Improved!”. Lifting the box up to inspect the shipping label, you notice that it says Choso’s name, not yours. If you weren’t so stunned by this unexpected discovery, you’d be giggling at the absurdity of it all. Instead, you’re gawking at the lewd gadget, unsure what to do next.

“Fuck!”

An intense shout from the other side of the wall snaps you out of it. That’s the loudest you’ve ever heard your neighbor, and you can only assume that he has also just realized this unfortunate mix-up. There’s no way the two of you can pretend this isn’t happening. Besides, the last thing you want is for Choso to think you have a bad impression of him after this. Because you don’t, not one bit. It’s perfectly normal for people to have sex toys. In fact, it’s healthy. Even the thought of him using it on himself intrigues you. The hungry expression on his face, tongue lolling out of his mouth, those usually pale cheeks blushing a deep red. The obscene squelch of the wet silicone surrounding his engorged cock, leaking with precum. Closer and closer to the edge, ready to burst any second with your lips near the tip, ready to swallow his load…

You almost curse out loud yourself, ashamed for having such lewd thoughts about your sweet, innocent next-door neighbor. But maybe he’s not as innocent as you think.

Ultimately, you decide the best way to move forward from this is to nip it in the bud. With the opened package in your hands, you walk over to his front door, knocking three times. You hear a faint, “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” from within, then hurried footsteps growing louder. Without removing the chain lock, he answers, peering at you through the narrow crack, not saying anything.

Nervous, you greet him with the best smile you can muster. “Hi Choso. I think there was a little mix-up.”

He clears his throat before mumbling a short, “Yeah.”

You glance away from him, staring at the floor, too embarrassed to meet his gaze for this next part. “I opened it without checking the label first. I’m so sorry.”

He shuts the door suddenly, startling you. There’s the distinct rattle of the chain being fiddled with and the door swings open fully, Choso towering over you, a serious expression on his face. He shows you a box, revealing all the office supplies you ordered earlier in the week. Without saying another word, you do the exchange, anticipating that this will be the end of it.

It surprises you when he apologizes quietly, focused on the small space separating you. “I’m sorry you had to see that.” He hides it behind his back, as if doing so will erase the image of it from your memory. “You must think I’m disgusting.”

You shake your head, ignoring the instinct to step closer and comfort him with a hug. The last thing you want to do is cross even more lines tonight. “I don’t, not even the slightest. It’s okay, Choso. This is totally normal and totally fine.”

“You don’t have to say that – ”

“But I mean it! I really do! There’s nothing wrong with it!” Desperate for him to believe you, you confess, “I have sex toys too, plenty of them!”

This time, he actually looks at you with a mixture of intrigue and skepticism. “You don’t have to lie for my sake.”

“I’m not lying!” you urge him.

He retreats inside his apartment, speaking once again through the crack. “I appreciate you trying to make this better, but I think it’s best that we never speak again. Goodnight.”

With that, he shuts the door, leaving you with a lump in your throat, devastated. In your frenzied attempt to fix this, you return to your room, searching your bedside drawer for your favorite vibrator. If words aren’t enough to convince him, then maybe actual proof will. Without taking a moment to reconsider the hole you’re digging yourself deeper and deeper into, you pound on his door, the sex toy clasped in your other hand.

When he answers, you shove it in his face, vindicated that you can prove your point with physical evidence. “See? I told you! I have toys too, so there’s nothing for you to be ashamed about.”

He squints at the vibrator squeezed in your fist as if inspecting it like a foreign object. “That’s it?”

You glare at him, offended by his response. “What do you mean?”

He tilts his head to examine it at another angle. “There’s only one button.”

“One button is all I need,” you argue, defensive about your favorite being criticized. “Sure, it’s small, but that’s what I like about it. It fits comfortably in my hand and with just a single push of the button, I can experience three different levels of intensity. What more do I need?!”

He smirks, amused at your rambling. “I just don’t see how something this simple can be useful, that’s all.” It’s the closest to a smile you’ve seen from him; it has your belly fluttering.

You hold back a laugh. “I bet it packs more of a punch than that Cock Sucker 2000 or whatever.”

“3000,” he corrects, grinning, causing your heart to race. “I haven’t tried it yet, but it’s the best on the market right now.” He hesitates, his next words coming out of his mouth slowly, testing the waters. “Maybe you can show me what your little toy can do. Prove me wrong.”

You never expected this from him, but that’s what makes this exciting. All you can think of in this moment is showing him just how wet you can get. “Fine,” you agree, stepping towards him. “But only if you show me what your little toy can do, too.”

~~~

Never in a million years did Choso predict that this would be the outcome of your bizarre mix-up. You, his next-door neighbor, on his bed, naked from the waist down. Your t-shirt riding up your stomach with your legs split apart, the cute vibrator you love so much pressed to your clit. He kneels in front of you, too transfixed at the erotic sight before him to give attention to the erection strained in his sweatpants.

“You’re next,” you say, glancing at his lap.

He nods, all the confidence he had just a few minutes ago when he initially proposed this idea thrown out the window. Now, he’s back to being his nervous self, afraid to be vulnerable with someone he barely knows.

You set the vibrator beside you, closing your legs. “Are you okay?”

He’s frozen, tempted to call the whole thing off. Go back to being neighbors and nothing more. Go back to being lonely Choso and pathetic Choso, who’s scared of everyone and everything and –

“Hey.” It’s only now he realizes that the two of you are face-to-face, foreheads pressed, noses touching. Your voice is gentle, your palms soft on his cheeks. You smile at him, full of warmth and compassion. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

“It’s been a while since I’ve been with someone,” he admits. “I’m nervous.” A myriad of what-ifs play out in his head. What if he’s bad? What if you don’t like it? What if this ruins whatever sliver of hope the two of you have at being friends? At being anything more?

“We’ll go slow then,” you assure him, brushing your lips to his. That genuine smile of yours is enough to convince him that it’s worth the risk. That, and how fucking good it feels to have your mouth on his. He closes his eyes, leaning into the kiss, relishing the warmth of your breath. He finds himself gradually losing control of his inhibitions, his carnal instincts taking over, hungry for more of you. He slips his tongue inside, swirling around yours, kisses growing frantic and sloppy. You tug at the collar of his shirt, pulling him towards you. His heart pounds in his chest as he roams your body, fingers grazing your perked nipples from outside your top. You whisper his name, so luscious and sweet in your voice. He’d be lying if he said he’s never imagined it before. How you’d sound whimpering from his touch. How you’d feel between his massive hands. How you’d look with his cock filling you up to the brim.

He can’t stand it anymore. He’s aching, begging for release from the confines of his pants. Quickly, he removes them, freeing his throbbing erection. You gasp, marveling at the size of it. “Oh fuck, Choso. You’re so big.”

“Yeah?” he breathes out, fumbling for the Cock Sucker 3000 beside him. He slathers a generous amount of lube on his shaft and inside the toy. Foreheads pressed together once more, you both focus on his lap, watching it sink smoothly down his dick. The coldness of the lube and rubbery flexibility of the silicone surrounding him is familiar, though having someone spectate makes this all the more titillating.

“Fuck,” you swear, amazed at how it covers his entire length. You ogle at him as he starts slowly, eventually increasing to a steady pace. Your pussy flutters, incredibly aroused to see this man pumping his cock in front of you. For you.

“Do it with me.” His gaze flickers to the vibrator beside you. “You should feel good too.”

You spread your legs, displaying your cunt to him, already sopping wet with arousal. His eyes follow your every move as you tease the tip slowly up and down your pussy lips. Finding the right spot on your clit, you place your finger on the button of the toy, bracing yourself for what’s to come. As soon as you press it, the vibrations from level one alone are enough to send you wild. Knees shaking, feet flexing, moans pouring out of your open mouth. He continues to watch you, restraining his grunts as he strokes himself faster. Desperate for more, you click the button twice, increasing the vibrations to the max level. Within seconds, you’re coming, back arched and head thrown into the pillows behind you. Tossing the vibrator aside, you stare up at the ceiling, dizzy and disoriented from your ecstatic high, pussy shiny with your orgasm. Choso’s voice is so faint, you don’t understand him at first. You sit up to face him, waiting for him to repeat himself.

“Can you ride my face?” he asks meekly.

More than willing to accept his request, you nod in response, grinning. His expression relaxes and when you lean nearer to him, palm pressed flat on his chest, he even cracks a smile as he’s lies down on the bed, eager to have you like this. You straddle him, facing away from the headboard while his head rests at the foot of the bed. Carefully, you lower yourself until his mouth is pressed to your pussy. His tongue circles your clit slowly and he releases his grip from his toy to hold onto your ass, squeezing the soft flesh firmly. You don’t take your eyes off each other as you rub yourself across his face, his mouth open, swallowing every drop of you. When you reach your second orgasm, you’re practically bouncing on him as he smothers himself deeper, humming in satisfaction as he sucks hard on your clit, flicking it with his tongue.

You lift yourself off him, spent and completely wrecked. Still, you want to touch him, treat him as well as he treated you, make him come as hard as you did. You position yourself between his thighs, admiring the silicone sleeve hugging his dick. “Your turn.”

Sitting up on his elbows, he watches as you grab hold of the toy, stroking him with it. He moans, tongue hanging of his mouth, drool leaking from the corners of his lips, eyes half-lidded. His moans turn into whimpers when you start cradling his balls with your other hand, his body twitching from the sensation. The tip peeks out from the other end, a thick wad of precum collecting at the slit, so enticing that you’re salivating for a taste.

“Your mouth,” he stammers, barely able to speak.

“What?” you ask breathily, inching closer and closer.

“Want your mouth.” He swallows hard, voice trembling. “Please.”

Excited, you remove the toy from him, in awe at the way his fat cock flops heavily against his abdomen. You take him in your fist, loving how hot and throbbing he is in your grip. He’s coated in lube and precum, so slippery with your fingers wrapped around his girth. Unable to resist any longer, you bow your head, licking the pearl off the tip, savoring the taste. He shudders, letting out a loud, “Fuck!”

It’s so much better than a toy. The wet heat of your mouth surrounding him is better than any masturbator, fleshlight, pocket pussy, whatever silly contraption he uses to get by. The swirl of your tongue gliding along the shaft, the vibrations of your moans as you take him all the way to the back of your throat, the view of your pretty head bobbing up and down his lap. Nothing in his collection compares to this. This is real. You are real.

He fucks your throat, unable to resist bucking his hips against you, timing his thrusts to meet yours. It doesn’t take much longer for him to be pushed over the edge. You pull off for a brief moment to smile at him, pumping him fast. “Come for me, Choso. Come in my mouth.”

At this, he completely loses himself, muffling his incessant moans into his forearm, too shy to watch you guzzle down his entire load until he’s milked of every last drop. You scatter delicate kisses along the entire length of him, even down to his balls. Too sensitive now, he pats you gently on the head, making you look up at him, a warm smile on your face. He smiles back, caressing your cheek, thumb grazing your soft skin. You lie beside him, nuzzling into his chest, listening to his heartbeat slow to a steady, relaxed pace. He slides his arm around you, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Thank you.”

This world is a terrifying place for Choso Kamo. But with you in his arms, he feels a bit braver. He’s safe with you.

#choso kamo #choso x reader #choso smut #choso x you #choso jjk #jjk x reader #jjk smut #choso kamo smut #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo x you #kamo choso x reader #kamo choso smut #kamo choso x you

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nikkento-writes · 2 months

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Rub You the Right Way - Part 1

Part 2 | Part 3

Pairing: Choso x f!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Word Count: ~4.1k

cw: female reader, 2nd-person POV, explicit language, explicit sexual content, smut – oral sex (cunnilingus, fellatio), hand job, face-riding, face-fucking, use and mention of sex toys, cum eating

Author’s Notes: This is a repost from my old account! It's the first Choso fic I've ever written and I enjoyed it so much that I wrote a Part 2 and a Part 3 (coming soon)! Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are not expected but always appreciated. Thanks for reading! Divider credit to @/fic-dumpster.

He turns to face you, eyes crinkling happily as he smiles. “Hey! How’s it going?”

You drop your bags to open your own locker. “I’m alright. Got a busy weekend working. And you?”

He kneels down towards the boxes in front of him. “Same, except studying for exams.”

Yuji slides the stack out from Choso’s locker, answering you. “Yup. I also had some stuff delivered here, so I figured I’d just grab everything.”

“Thank you so much!”

“Will do. Have a good night.”

You soon find out that something even better is waiting for you inside.

~~~

“By the way, your neighbor says hi,” Yuji mentions, opening his packages one-by-one. “She came into the mailroom.”

“Yup,” Yuji confirms. “She had her hands full, so I helped her carry a package.”

This isn’t his. It’s yours.

Which means…

By the way, your neighbor says hi. She came into the mailroom.

She had her hands full, so I helped her carry a package.

Oh fuck.

~~~

“Fuck!”

You almost curse out loud yourself, ashamed for having such lewd thoughts about your sweet, innocent next-door neighbor. But maybe he’s not as innocent as you think.

Nervous, you greet him with the best smile you can muster. “Hi Choso. I think there was a little mix-up.”

He clears his throat before mumbling a short, “Yeah.”

You glance away from him, staring at the floor, too embarrassed to meet his gaze for this next part. “I opened it without checking the label first. I’m so sorry.”

“You don’t have to say that – ”

“But I mean it! I really do! There’s nothing wrong with it!” Desperate for him to believe you, you confess, “I have sex toys too, plenty of them!”

This time, he actually looks at you with a mixture of intrigue and skepticism. “You don’t have to lie for my sake.”

“I’m not lying!” you urge him.

He retreats inside his apartment, speaking once again through the crack. “I appreciate you trying to make this better, but I think it’s best that we never speak again. Goodnight.”

When he answers, you shove it in his face, vindicated that you can prove your point with physical evidence. “See? I told you! I have toys too, so there’s nothing for you to be ashamed about.”

He squints at the vibrator squeezed in your fist as if inspecting it like a foreign object. “That’s it?”

You glare at him, offended by his response. “What do you mean?”

He tilts his head to examine it at another angle. “There’s only one button.”

He smirks, amused at your rambling. “I just don’t see how something this simple can be useful, that’s all.” It’s the closest to a smile you’ve seen from him; it has your belly fluttering.

You hold back a laugh. “I bet it packs more of a punch than that Cock Sucker 2000 or whatever.”

~~~

“You’re next,” you say, glancing at his lap.

You set the vibrator beside you, closing your legs. “Are you okay?”

He’s frozen, tempted to call the whole thing off. Go back to being neighbors and nothing more. Go back to being lonely Choso and pathetic Choso, who’s scared of everyone and everything and –

“Do it with me.” His gaze flickers to the vibrator beside you. “You should feel good too.”

“Can you ride my face?” he asks meekly.

“Your mouth,” he stammers, barely able to speak.

“What?” you ask breathily, inching closer and closer.

“Want your mouth.” He swallows hard, voice trembling. “Please.”

This world is a terrifying place for Choso Kamo. But with you in his arms, he feels a bit braver. He’s safe with you.

#choso kamo #choso x reader #choso x you #choso smut #choso fluff #choso kamo smut #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo x you #jjk smut

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blitzyn · 9 months

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relax

alhaitham x m!reader

Request: well, since requests are open, perhaps I could request an alhaitham X male s/o where s/o has been really stressed lately with school and has been overworking himself. Because of this, alhaitham being the caring boyfriend he is comes to comfort and relax his beloved s/o with sex and aftercare. If possible, pls let alhaitham call his s/o a 'good boy' and just a praise kink in general, tysm!! 💕 — @ezraelo

a/n -> this mf reminds me of my dad so i kinda wrote what I think he'd say if i was in reader's situation tbh. NOT THE SEX THOUGH. anyways pgr fic first then hate sex w/childe next its been decades since I've done him (⁠｡⁠♡⁠‿⁠♡⁠｡⁠) sigh sometimes i forget i don’t have to write so damn much

wc -> 3.6k

cw -> soft alhaitham (heart eyes pt2), anal fingering, anal sex, praise, not beta read

merry christmas and happy holidays!!

To say you were tired was an understatement—you were exhausted. Stressed. Angry. It felt like everything that could go wrong did go wrong.

First, you accidentally woke up late, was scolded by your teacher when you arrived and made the "perfect" example on what a scholar from the Akademiya should not be. Then you had to study for several hours for a few of your upcoming exams and evaluations—all while having to take some more tests the following week.

And as if that wasn't e-fucking-nough, you had done horribly on one of your essays so now you had to redo it for a better score, on top of needing to start yet another one regarding... Something. You forgot what the prompt was. Honestly, you forgot to do a lot of things. Like eat. Or drink water. Which was something that really didn't help to improve your mood.

You stumbled through the door trying to pry your uniform off, haphazardly tossing your hat to the side. You felt like shit and wanted nothing more than to flop on your bed and stay in there for the rest of your miserable life. But, like the universe was trying to give you the biggest middle finger ever, one of the loops on your clothes got caught on the corner of a counter. While you'd normally just take it off and go on your merry way, you weren't having it today and just yanked yourself forward, tearing the loop and the fabric it was connected to.

Finally making it to your room, you flopped on the bed face-first, muffling the loud groan that came from you. You stayed like that for a moment longer before turning your head, remembering to breathe deeply.

Two knocks came from the door. "You okay?" Your boyfriend, Alhaitham, asked, leaning against the frame as he stared at you.

"You're smart. Figure it out yourself," you muttered bitterly, wincing at the accusatory tone in your voice. You sighed, deciding to face him. "Sorry."

He shrugged, walking to sit on the edge of your shared bed. "What's wrong?" He questioned, his expression unchanging even when he watched your brows furrow in irritation.

"It's just... Ugh," you grumbled, rolling your eyes childishly. "Just a bad week. It feels like everything's going against me." You rolled onto your back, arms and legs sprawled out like a starfish. "I don't think I can catch up."

"You're in the Akademiya," Alhaitham said, giving you a look that made it seem like he didn't know why you were complaining. "Obviously it's going to be hard for you."

"'For you,'" you repeated, glaring at nothing in particular, but it was getting increasingly evident that you were beginning to direct your anger towards him. "Of course you don't get it. You've been smart your whole life."

He was quiet for a moment, letting you try to calm yourself before speaking again. "Don't sell yourself short like that. It's unhealthy."

You huffed. "It's not selling myself short if it's actually true." You pressed your palms against your eyes until you saw faint fireworks coloring the darkness. "I have to redo an essay because apparently it didn't go with damn prompt. Then I have to do another one, and I don't even know where to start, and—" you listed off your problems, your voice getting higher in pitch until you were on the verge of shedding tears, overwhelmed with the sheer amount of work you accidentally accumulated.

"Hey," he interrupted you, leaning to place a hand on your thigh. "Calm down." He gave you an unimpressed look when you snapped your mouth open to retort, watching you begrudgingly close it in defeat. "Breathe. You're getting worked up over things you can change."

But when you could hardly focus on utilizing the breathing techniques he taught you, he decided to take a different approach. "Let's have sex, then."

"What? Why? 'Cause of the post-nut clarity?" You sighed, rubbing your temple to stave off the impending headache after staring at him incredulously. Damn. Sometimes you forget how straightforward he could be.

Alhaitham gave you a look. It was deadpan—because when was it not?—but you could still sense the slightest bit of confusion. "If that's how you want to word it, yes," he said, before elaborating. "Sex can also help you relax and improve your immune system."

He quickly looked you up and down, and despite not saying anything, you knew what he was trying to imply. You looked like a mess.

"It can also help improve your quality of sleep," he added, crossing his arms against his chest. "It has a few other benefits than just feeling good, you know." He watched you ponder his suggestion, chewing on your lip absentmindedly before giving in with a sigh.

"Fine. But you're doing all the work," you said, propping yourself up on your elbows to look at him better.

"That was the plan." The corners of his lips quirked up in a brief, subtle smirk as he leaned to place his hands on your shoulders to gently push you back down. "Just relax."

He continued when you nodded, running his hands along your body, gently caressing every curve and contour of your frame. An eyebrow raised in question when he felt the torn patch in your clothes but decided against mentioning it as he guided you out of your suffocating uniform with practiced ease. Already, you seemed a bit calmer than earlier, giving yourself a well-deserved stretch that made you remind him of a cat.

You felt the tension beginning to seep out of your body with every article of clothing that was carelessly tossed to the floor, reaching your hands out to tug him closer. He obliged without hesitation, sighing in satisfaction when he melded his lips with yours. His hands slid below your underclothes, snaking them upwards until they found your chest. He tweaked and pinched your nipples as he moved his way downwards, placing kisses along your jawline and neck.

You softly moaned, brushing your fingers through his hair that had him leaning into your hand. He removed your shirt, trailing appreciative kisses down your sternum. A hand made its way down your front toward your pants, slipping a hand inside to wrap his fingers around your flaccid dick. Your breath hitched, instinctively widening your legs to give him better access, much to his pleasure.

He was gentle; his hands were soft and careful, and neither of you were in a rush. You felt your eyes flutter shut as your lips parted with every quiet gasp and sigh that left you, and he couldn't help but stare.

It annoyed him how little you thought of yourself when he could clearly see you as something more. Sure, it irked him how you complained about things that could easily be changed if you put your effort into it, but you were also right. He always had it academically easy and often found it hard to connect with others or understand their problems on a level that wasn't with you. He was well aware of this issue, knowing that it often hindered his ability to comfort, and—for the first time in how long?—it frustrated him.

Even if he had no idea how to properly soften his words around you or to consistently change his facial expressions, he always showed he cared by spending time with you, teaching you new things, or helping you understand foreign concepts. But even then, he was willing to try to tell you that you were more than what those pompous Akademiya professors reduced you to, that you were better than what you said you were.

"Look at me," he said, his voice soft and smooth, coaxing your pretty eyes open. He slipped his hands out of your shirt and cupped your cheeks tenderly, ensuring your focus on him. "It doesn't matter what everyone says about you when they don't understand that you have strengths that rest beyond the traditional Akademiya expectations."

"But that doesn't—"

He gave you yet another stern look, to which you quieted down with a huff. "It's okay to struggle. Everyone does at some point. Even those professors found something difficult before they became what they are. But you know what they did?"

He paused, gauging your reaction. He was aware that what he was saying probably didn't make you feel better or make the most sense, but he hoped that you could feel the sincerity in his voice. "They took a step back, took a deep breath, and figured out what they were doing wrong. They didn't do that overnight or by working themselves to the bone. That's what you need to acknowledge."

"But all my other colleagues are doing fine, and I'm the only one struggling..." You appreciated his words, truly, but they did little to quell your worries.

"Are you? How do you know that for sure?" He countered, sliding his hands down to caress your hips. He watched you pursed your lips, squirming slightly under his gaze. "Point is, you shouldn't try to compare yourself to everyone around you and overwork yourself because that only leads to bad work and a bigger hole for you to climb out of. You have everything else to be proud of—not just your academic qualities. Understand? Besides, you made it into the Akademiya. That's something very few people can do in the first place."

You looked away with a frown, but you nodded softly. Even though it sucked knowing that you weren't the best, he did have a point. Wallowing in your own failure did nothing to better yourself, as much as you hated to admit it.

"Thanks," you muttered, sniffling a little. His thumbs swiped underneath your eyes, clearing away any of the tears that happened to escape you.

"Don't let them define you. Define yourself," he said finally, leaning back down to kiss you again. It was soft, tender, unhurried, like he wanted you to feel every ounce of affection he harbored for you. He pulled away slightly, resting his forehead against yours. "Do you still want to do this?"

You nodded again, giving him a quick peck to the lips before wrapping your arms around his shoulders. "Mhm. I really need those benefits." Plus, you didn't favor being horny and sad.

Your lips curved in a smug grin when you saw his own quirk upwards in amusement, but he didn't comment on it. He sat up to tug your pants and underwear down, revealing your semi-hard cock. You shivered instinctively but kept your focus on him, waiting in anticipation for him to continue.

He leaned over to grab a bottle of lube from your nightstand, squeezing a generous amount on his fingers before pressing one into your hole. You sighed, sinking your teeth into your lower lip. He only offered a few pumps of his hand before adding a second one in, gently spreading them apart in a scissoring motion.

He wrapped his free hand around your cock, slowly jerking you off. He rubbed his thumb over the tip to smear the precum across your skin as wet sounds gradually filled the room. You noticed his eyes locked on your face and the expressions you wore, committing them to memory. He added a third finger for good measure, feeling you tense reflexively before relaxing just as fast.

"You're doing so good, [Name]," he praised, his voice low. He curled his fingers, pressing them against your prostate. He could feel his cock twitch in his pants at the sound of your moan, straining against the fabric. "I'm almost done. Then we can start."

You nodded, inhaling sharply through your nose when he began targeting the sensitive spot inside you. You could practically feel every surge of heat shoot up and down your spine, ending at your fingertips. Alhaitham could feel it too, every time your cock throbbed in his hold.

Your body felt warm and tingly when he moved both hands away from your body, wiping them off using a few tissues atop your nightstand. He grabbed the lube again and poured some on his palm to coat his cock, using his free hand to spread one of your thighs a bit wider. He peered up through his lashes, subtly raising an eyebrow in question. He continued as soon as you nodded, slowly pushing himself inside you.

You both let out a satisfied groan as he filled you, grasping onto his wrists as he held onto your hips.

"Fuck," he hissed, pushing further until he bottomed out completely. "You're such a good boy. You're taking me in so well." He perked up in attention when he felt you tighten at his words, noting how your eyes fluttered shut like you were savoring them. He wasn't overly aware of this newfound information, but maybe you had accidentally brought it to his attention now that you're stressed?

Either way, he didn’t comment on it, instead deciding to continue. “You feel so good, [Name]," he praised, leaning down to press his lips against the skin underneath your earlobe. You could feel the low rumble of his voice vibrating in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. He let you take a moment to adjust to him before moving, gently thrusting his hips.

You noticed him moving away again as you opened your eyes, finding yourself enamored with the way his muscles flexed in every movement of his. Soft gasps and moans left your lips when you looked up, instantly noticing his gaze on you.

“Stop staring at me,” you mumbled shyly, squirming a bit. It wasn’t that you hated having him look at you—frankly, that’s all you longed for sometimes, it’s just that what you did hit you. Being as vulnerable as you were wasn’t something you preferred, even when Alhaitham didn’t berate you for it.

“You were staring at me, first,” he countered swiftly, and you could hear the rare undertone of his amusement in his voice. It was your favorite sound. “Besides, what’s the harm in looking at the most handsome man in Sumeru?” His monotony nearly made his words laughable, but you could see that he was genuinely trying. Knowing that sent butterflies in your stomach all over again.

You looked away, effectively flustered with all his attention. “It’s embarrassing…”

“Only because you make it embarrassing,” he said, sliding a hand upwards to toy with one of your nipples. He subtly shifted his hips, angling them so that his cock better pressed against your prostate. He watched you intently when you let out a throaty moan, feeling his dick throb inside you.

You reflexively clenched your thighs tighter against his hips, sinking your teeth into your lower lip. You snaked a hand down to your leaking cock, wrapping your fingers around the base to give it a squeeze. “You can go faster,” you muttered, looking down to watch the way he slid in and out of you.

He nodded with a quiet hum, adjusting his grip on your waist to shift the weight on his knees to sacrifice his slower, deeper thrusts for quick and shallow ones. Moaning, you jerked yourself off in time with his movements, unable to tear your gaze away from him, even for a moment. Your eyebrows furrowed in concentration as you brought your free hand up to bring him closer to you by the back of his head. You kissed him needily and fervently, letting out noises that mixed in with the wet sounds that came from your hole. Your body rocked gently, listening intently to the rustling of your bedsheets and Alhaitham’s deep, husky breaths.

Suddenly, he lifted a hand up to place over your abdomen, lightly pushing down on it just as he buried himself balls deep inside you. He paused for a moment, sighing as he watched you squirm at the sudden stop before continuing, feeling himself move in and out of you. You could feel the heat in your belly intensifying with every thrust to your prostate, back arching, legs tightening around his waist.

“Fuck, I’m…” you panted, clenching tighter around his cock. “I’m so close, ‘Haitham.”

“I know. I can feel you,” he said, gently moving your hand away from your leaking cock to wrap his fingers around it. Quiet slaps mixed in with your soft noises and his breathy grunts as he fucked you a bit harder, eyes fixated on the blissful expression on in your face. His dick throbbed inside you as he eagerly chased after his own orgasm, leaning down to press his lips to your jaw, kissing up towards your ear.

“C’mon, [Name], cum for me,” he whispered, sending yet another wave of heat shoot up and down your spine. You could hardly stop the stream of moans that spilled from your lips as he focused on the tip of your cock, rubbing his thumb on the sensitive spot just below it, as if trying to coax out your cum.

“Oh god,” your voice was strained as you felt the coil in your stomach tighten to an unbearable degree, trying to hold out just a little longer. “F—Fuck! Alhaitham!” You moaned in ecstasy when you finally came, squeezing your eyes tightly shut. You tensed and trembled as your dick spurt cum on your stomach and his fingers as he helped you ride out your high.

“You’re so beautiful when you orgasm,” he groaned, his thrusts beginning to lose rhythm as he neared his own climax. He dug his fingers into your waist tighter, muttering praises into your ear when you began squirming at the discomfort of your overstimulation. It didn’t take much longer for him to finish as he stilled, gritting his teeth when he quickly pulled out to stroke himself to completion. He sighed in satisfaction when his orgasm subsided, leaving your abdomen coated in ropes of his cum.

“Wh—Why did you pull out?” You panted, wiping a bead of sweat off of your forehead.

“Isn’t it annoying to clean up afterward? You're always complaining about it whenever we have sex,” he questioned after a moment, taking a second to bask in the afterglow before getting up to reach for a tissue to clean your skin. He put his pants back on, gathering your clothes to put them in a laundry basket.

You shrugged. “I mean, sometimes. But I’m gonna take a bath either way.” You blinked in confusion when you saw him quirk a brow, fidgeting a bit when he didn’t stop staring at you.

“No. You’re going to sit and wait here while I make you something to eat, first,” he instructed, leaving no room for negotiation. “Afterwards, you’re going to go to sleep. Then you can take a bath when you wake up.”

As if on cue, your stomach growled audibly, quickly reminding you that you haven't eaten anything since yesterday. "But then I'm gonna be all sticky and gross when I eat," you said, knowing how much he disliked having dirty bedsheets for too long. It surprised you when he shrugged, leaning against the doorframe as he waited for you to decide.

"If you want to take a bath first, then I'll help you," he offered. You swiftly nodded, wanting to eat clean and comfortably. He nodded and told you to wait for a moment as he prepared the water for you, leaving you by yourself for a while until he returned. The two of you walked into the bathroom where a bathtub of warm water awaited you. But just as you raised your leg to enter, a sudden wave of dizziness overcame you. Luckily, Alhaitham was there to keep you from falling with a firm hand on your arm, carefully helping you into the water.

"Are you okay?" He asked, his eyes darting across your face for any sign of distress. He relaxed upon seeing nothing but waited for your response for further confirmation.

"Yeah. It's just something that happens when I get too hungry, y'know?" You explained sheepishly, splashing some of the water onto your arms and back.

"No, I don't know." He ignored the way you rolled your eyes. "I'll be right back, then."

You hummed to yourself, not minding his absence as you savored the warmth surrounding you, resting your head against the edge of the tub. You nearly fell asleep in the time it took for Alhaitham to return, jumping in surprise at the sound of his voice.

"Hey," he spoke, returning to your side with a bowl in his hand. "Eat this for now."

He kneeled down, bringing the bowl close enough to let you reach in and take whatever was inside. They were fruits, you saw as you happily grabbed one, tossing it into your mouth. You had to stop yourself from grabbing a handful and eating it all in one go, forcing yourself to appreciate every bite. You noticed him shifting behind you, leaning forward instinctively when he began cleaning your back with a small, wet towel.

The two of you basked in the comforting silence for a while as you let him take care of you until you turned your head to face him. "I love you," you said with a little grin.

"I know," he replied, putting the bowl onto the floor.

"Say it back." You pouted, but you knew he was only teasing.

His mouth quirked up in a faint smile, leaning forward to give you a quick peck on your lips. "I love you too."

661 notes · View notes

citrustan · 11 months

Text

for what it's worth [3/4] (jjk)

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

genre: angst, fluff, light smut, college student!reader x crush!jungkook

summary: you make an awful revelation about your crush of two years.

word count: 3.8k

warnings: some bitchiness (or like justice? idk it's up to you really)

note: yes. there is a chapter 4 because i'm not ready to let go of this just yet. and a thank you.

1 - 2 - 3 - 4

Two weeks passed by and you and Jia pretended as if absolutely nothing happened. It was simply the quiet before the storm.

Your days seemed to blend into nights, you felt yourself slipping into a bad place mentally. Always feeling distant and fatigued.

The emotional turmoil of having your trust broken and your privacy invaded caused you to miss out on much needed sleep.

While on the outside, everything seemed pretty much the usual except for a few painfully obvious differences.

You had stopped (publicly) obsessing over Jungkook, and it initially invited a lot of concern from Yoongi and Namjoon. But they didn’t push you too much when you blatantly ignored their questions about him. You also avoided Jia as much as you could. She didn’t seem to have noticed.

Despite your crush on Jungkook, you had come to accept the boundaries of your non-friendship with him and the fact that he was deeply committed to Jia.

You had no intention of causing any harm to their relationship, as you had already shared your support with Jungkook for their secret.

It was difficult to not think of them. It often made you break into tears of anger and frustration. You had to mourn your loss.

Every night, thoughts of Jungkook would continue to consume you. You’d still imagine him to be yours. Images of him smiling at you and his voice calling you cute would linger in your mind.

It’s just pretend. There’s no harm in it.

You knew that Jia had described you as a ‘creep’ to Jungkook, but the label bothered you. You were not a creep, and you wanted to understand why Jia had portrayed you that way. No matter what you came up with in your head, nothing was a good enough reason to call you such a gross name. Sure, she hadn’t revealed to Jungkook your identity but that baffled you more.

Also, had Jungkook never wondered about this ‘creep’?

Too many things kept you up at night and you couldn’t stand being on the other side of the truth. You could no longer afford to let these things bother you. You were too fucking old for this shit.

With the final week before your course evaluations being right around the corner, you had subconsciously come to some harsh unanimous decisions. They weren’t impulsive or unreasonable. You really had thought this through. These decisions may be a risky, or bitchy, or just as sneaky as Jia was, but they’d still be within reason.

He needed to know the truth about you, Jia, and what she told him.

You wanted to tell Jia that you knew about them. It probably wasn’t going to come out of Jungkook, so it had to be you.

Why must you continue to suffer?

You didn’t want to wait around and anticipate Jia’s next move.

You’re not the type of person who sits around and ignores things like these. You had held it in for a while now.

You understood that your actions would have consequences and you were more than ready to face them. You hoped.

While you pretended nothing ever happened, Jia and you saw way less of each other.

You could count the times you interacted, or even passed by, or saw each other over the weeks on one hand.

Still, every time you’d think about your interaction with Jungkook, you were reminded of Jia too. Him and Jia. You couldn't help but notice his annoyingly deep feelings for Jia. He was so… considerate of her. It probably is just the bare minimum but it doesn’t matter. You could tell he was a great boyfriend to her. No wonder she kept him hidden.

Sometimes, it felt so wrong and scandalous to fantasize about the man. Maybe it even is so. But you weren’t just infatuated with Jungkook. You really liked him. Emotions like these don’t disappear overnight.

You longed to be loved and held by him too.

The campus shuttle came to an abrupt halt, indicating that it was the last stop. You had missed yours.

As the semester continued, Jungkook found himself missing the moments he had shared with you before everything became so complicated. Jia completely stopped mentioning you. Whenever he’d ask, she’d pout and demand his attention to be back on her. While he’d give into her, you still remained in the back of his mind.

It was late in the evening, and Jungkook had decided to take a break from his hectic study schedule, opting to go for a walk around his dorm on campus.

As he neared the drop-off point for the shuttle, he couldn't help but think about you, remembering the first time you had met at a bus stand.

He stood there, lost in thought, when he suddenly saw a figure leaning against the street light.

An involuntary smile crossed his face as he couldn't believe the coincidence.

"_____, is that you?" Jungkook called out, waving to get your attention. He jogs to where you now stood upright.

You turned towards him, your eyes widening in surprise as you recognized him. "Jungkook? What are you doing here?"

He chuckled and motioned to the bus station. "Well, it seems like the bus stands are our special spot. I thought I'd take a break and enjoy the nostalgia."

You let out a mix of a sigh and an awkward laugh, feeling a mixture of nostalgia and uncertainty. "It's been a while, hasn't it?"

Jungkook nodded, and he noticed the hesitation in your eyes. "Would you like to grab some dinner? We can catch up?"

You were caught off-guard.

"Right now? It's not late enough for dinner." You attempt to find an excuse.

"Sure it is. There's a new Chinese fusion restaurant right off the road outside." Jungkook urged.

"Fusion? What is it fused with?" You wondered.

Jungkook paused. "I... Actually don't know. Want to find out?" He smiled, invitingly.

Not used to the attention he was giving you just now, you found it difficult to tell him 'no'.

Especially when you really wanted to 'catch up' with him.

So, you reluctantly agreed, and the two of you were headed to the nearby restaurant.

Jungkook smiled back at you as he led the way, "Do you want me to hold your hand? It looks heavy."

WHAT?

Your mouth slightly parted open.

Oh, my god? What was his deal?

You're malfunctioning.

"No. I'd rather not..." You hesitantly refuse. Jungkook slows down to let to catch up to him. "Are you sure? You look like you've been carrying that around for a while. And, I really wouldn't mind it."

More confused than ever, "Well, it is attached to me. I'm okay."

"Well, un-attach it! I'll hold it for you." Jungkook's hands graze your shoulder.

Your brows furrow. Finally, you just ask him. "What?"

"Let me hold your bag. Unbuckle, un-attach, relax." Jungkook blabbered as he switched positions to walk behind you, gently taking your backpack off your shoulders.

Oh.

Oh, no. Did you really think he was asking to hold your hand? Really now?

You big dummy with a capital 'D'.

You sigh. "Okay. Thanks, but let me just-" You cut yourself off by unzipping your backpack and pulling out a white sweater with pearls for buttons.

The two of you pause mid-way so you can comfortably wear your sweater. The temperature was dropping my the hour.

Although you don't have your matching mittens and earmuffs, it should be fine.

"That's pretty, _____." Jungkook complimented you.

"Where'd you get that?" He asked, thinking about how much Jia would like this kind of clothing.

You shyly blush and look down at your glossy, red pointed toe heels, "Thanks. I made it myself with the yarn my mother spun for me."

Jungkook looked genuinely impressed. "No way. That's got to be worth a lot then."

You stared up at him with big eyes. Nobody had ever said such sweet things to you.

(That's a lie. Your other friends have always praised your clothes and outfits. But this is different, so it's ok!)

You wordlessly, softly smile at him. Jungkook stares back at you.

Suddenly, his expression changes. His eyes grow big and his mouth forms a smile, "Ah! Could I commission you to make something just like that for Jia? She loves stuff like that!"

And just like that, your heart shattered. Again.

Your kind smile turned into a forced one. "Maybe if I have time."

You noted that he didn't demand or suggest you to make a sweater for Jia, but rather requested it and offered to compensate for it. That just tells you more about how considerate and present he is.

Every time you've talked to people about your handmade clothes, they'd beg you to make them one or jokingly ask about it so that if you do end up making something for them, they wouldn't have to pay you for your efforts. This doesn't include your friends, obviously. And, even if your friends were to act this way, you'd gladly gift them your handiwork.

Well, even though he's somewhat of a stranger to you, if Jungkook ever asked you for something, you'd probably just do it for him too. No questions asked.

Jungkook asked you about your day and your classes. And, you him.

As you were walking on the snow covered sidewalk, you mentally cuss yourself out for picking these shoes. Not only were your feet partially frozen and numb, but also you were ruining very expensive shoes.

"Oh! Puddle, watch out." Jungkook swiftly skipped over a puddle of water that horizontally covered a significant portion of the walkway from one end to the other.

You watched him regain his footing and turn back to you.

Does he expect you to leap like that? Your legs aren't as long as his! But, you don't gave a choice.

You can't step in it, it could very well be a hole of icy water. That'd be risking a potential amputation.

You can't walk around it because there's nowhere to go. And, you can't switch to walking on the road because, well it's dangerous, and there's a metal partition placed specifically to avoid mixing people on wheels and people on foot.

Jungkook puts his hand out for you to grab.

"Just put one foot out to this side and I'll pull you up. Don't worry! I've always done this with Jia." He mentions Jia, hoping to reassure you that he wouldn't let you slip.

All it does is make you more uneasy. Just the thought of Jia. It has an odd effect on you. Your body feels colder. You shudder briefly.

Your only goal now is to get past this stupid puddle without humiliating yourself. You realize that delaying this makes you look more cowardly, hence humiliating you.

So, you grab hold of Jungkook's surprisingly warm hand. Not going to lie, you faked some uncertainty just so you could keep holding his hand.

Someone has got to get you in check.

Jungkook urged you to trust him yet again. His stance showed he was prepared to pull you through.

You lift your left foot and somehow land it on the other side of the puddle. Not even a second after, Jungkook roughly pulls you to him with all his strength.

Not expecting this amount of force, you clumsily collide into his chest, immediately wrapping your arms around his torso to avoid falling back into the very puddle you were trying to get across from.

Jungkook reciprocates by circling his arms around your shoulders and head.

How you wished he held you elsewhere, but he was so respectful.

Everything happened so quickly.

Embarrassed, your breath hitched and you suddenly pushed him to the side.

"Sorry." You whisper. You don't know if he could even hear you.

You fix your sweater and continue staring at your feet, eyeing the little droplets of water on your pants.

Your tummy and nether regions were blazing fire and you felt your nipples slowly hardening. You clench your hands into fists, desperately praying nothing is visible. I mean, you were wearing white.

You wanted so badly for Jungkook to reach out, just stick his hand up your top and soothe your pretty, sensitive nips. Your breathing has become unstable for a few seconds.

You should be beaten up for having these thoughts about a taken man.

Jungkook suddenly places his hand on your arm, making you jolt. "We're close. Look, it's there." He smiles and points to the establishment.

"Great. I'm so cold." You try to play it off, just in case he noticed something.

You then cover your chest by flipping your hair back over it.

This time, he let you walk ahead of him.

On reaching the restaurant, Jungkook skipped ahead of you and pulled the door open for you. "After you." He smiled, goofily.

You blush and instantly shake it off, "Why, thank you. My fragile hands could never."

Jungkook and you were immediately hit by the warmth and coziness of the home style, Chinese fusion restaurant.

"Huh. This is not at all what I expected." Jungkook looked around, pleased with himself.

You replicated that action.

The restaurant was designed to replicate someone's home, or garage. It had unique tables and chairs. No two items were the same. Even most of cutlery was different.

You appreciated the dedication to this concept.

"Good evening! Table for two?" A very familiar voice interrupted you.

Your head abruptly turned towards the direction of the voice.

"Joon!" You exclaimed, rushing over to throwing yourself into his personal space.

Surprised by your sudden enthusiasm, Jungkook raised a brow. This was the most chipper he'd ever seen you.

Jungkook and Namjoon knew each other.

Other than from your constant yapping, Namjoon knew of Jungkook because Jungkook was actively trying to pursue Namjoon, pleading for him to be Jungkook's musical mentor. However, Namjoon wouldn't budge.

Namjoon instantaneously engulfs your whole body with his arms, rubbing your back.

When Namjoon clearly looked at the man stood behind you, his eyes widened.

No way.

Is this why you went off-grid? Had you finally managed to bag Jeon Jungkook? Namjoon was too stunned to move.

Namjoon was just about to ask you about it when Jungkook speaks instead. "Table for two is right. Thanks."

You let go off Namjoon, confirming Jungkook's words.

Whatever. Namjoon will be blowing your phone up later either way. So, he decided to let you off the hook for the rest of the evening.

Namjoon cheekily smiles at the two of you as he leads you into an isolated booth.

It was a space behind some beaded curtains, giving the illusion of the space being more private.

The table was relatively smaller and surrounding it were three chairs; two regular wooden ones with soft cushions, and one loveseat.

Then, Namjoon abruptly left.

You didn't realize what Namjoon was doing until he returned with two menus and something that looked like a candle and a lighter.

Oh, no.

No. This was NOT happening.

You frown and awkwardly wait for him to set the table up and leave.

What? There's nothing you can do or say without overreacting! It's not like you WANT to wine and dine your friend's boyfriend.

(You totally do, but you would not pull something like that purposely.)

Jungkook seemed to just go with the flow, unbothered.

You promptly sat yourself on one of the wooden chairs and Jungkook opted to sit on the comfortable loveseat.

"So, how do you know Namjoon?" Jungkook wasted no time.

"We've been friends for a while." You continue, "Jia too. She knows him."

At that, Jungkook raises a brow. Jia knows Namjoon? Jungkook has mentioned Namjoon many times before. Jia never indicated that she knew him.

Still, he brushed it off.

"How do you know him?" You ask.

"Oh, he's like rhythm and poetry royalty. I've been sending this man emails for months begging him to mentor me... I can't believe Jia- It's so weird, finally seeing the guy who kept rejecting me." He cut himself off towards the end.

He can't believe Jia WHAT? Tell me. PLEASE.

You painstakingly push your annoyance away.

Instead you laugh, "I had no idea he was being pursued by students, wow."

"Yeah..." Jungkook giggled, somewhat embarrassed.

As the evening went on, you talked quite a bit. If he noticed, he didn't mind your awkwardness.

As if you were suddenly remembering something, you hummed. "I take it you didn't tell Jia about the... thing?" You struggled to find the right words to describe it.

Jungkook slowly nodded and repeated, "The... Thing."

"Yeah. You know, about you guys? Dating?" You press your legs together, a little anxious.

"Oh! Right!" He smiled in realization, "I actually did end up telling her about it that same night." He nodded, this time, positively.

You froze and your face dropped.

Had you been drinking something at that moment, you'd have spat that out. If you were eating at that moment, you'd have dropped your utensils on the floor.

"And then we talked about you for a while. I told her you gave me your word. I mean, I'm sure she already told you..." He continued.

Jia. She knows you know.

"Because she panicked..." Jungkook kept talking but at that point you had tuned him out.

Your mouth involuntarily formed a sad pout. Your eyes which were drying out from tiredness, slowly began to fill up with tears of... frustration, and anger, and confusion.

She knew.

She didn't even try to talk to you.

You assumed she was just busy.

But, she was actually just avoiding you. Just as you her.

Your eyes were glazed over.

The humiliation, guilt, anger and paranoia set in all at once.

Does this mean... Jungkook knows? Is he toying with you?

No. That's far-fetched. Way off. He'd never do that. He was so nice to you all night.

But, he IS a nice guy. Why wouldn't he be nice?

You're starting to make less sense now.

You don't even blink because if you do, your tears won't hold themselves back.

Jia fucking knew and avoided you on purpose. She couldn't face you. She fucking betray you, and she couldn't handle it. She didn't want to face it.

Jungkook sensed that there was something on your mind. "_____, is something wrong? Should I not have told her? What's going on?" He asked, his curiosity piqued.

You hesitated for a moment. You weren't used to being impulsive. That was never you. But, lately, that streak was becoming increasingly steady.

So, you decided to open up. Like an idiot.

"It's me."

Jungkook nervously smiled, "It's you?"

"The 'creep' with the schoolgirl crush." You added.

Jungkook's eyes widened in surprise, and he leaned in, his expression a mix of shock and curiosity. "You? But... I don't understand."

He shook his head and stared at you, expecting you to keep going.

Great job, idiot.

You didn't have a choice now.

You took a deep breath and began to explain, "I had a crush on you, Jungkook. I have a crush on you. I've never been silent about it." You winced.

The tears. They're coming.

"I mean, I've never been silent about it with my friends. Including Jia."

The knot forming in your throat felt tighter.

Jungkook listened carefully, trying to make sense of this... revelation. "So, it was all a misunderstanding? There was never a 'creep'?" He reasoned.

You kept your eyes trained down at your lap, more embarrassed than ever. "I... No? I don't know." Your eyes were heavy with tears. Your nose began to sting.

You pressed your lips together to hold all the ugly sobs in, and squeezed your eyes shut.

"_____?" Jungkook questioned worriedly.

You furrowed your brows and frantically shook your head, "Jia. Everyone, my friends, everyone knew about it- that I liked you. From the day we met. The- it was like a mixer?" You slouch and let your arms fall to your sides, "I can't remember. I've liked you for so long..." You trail off silently shedding tears.

You inhale before letting out a little squeaky apology.

Jungkook only looks at you. He doesn't understand, or register anything.

"_____..." Jungkook begins.

"I didn't know Jia was your girlfriend. I'd always talk to her about you, and how good you looked on whatever, whenever- and how you, and then she..." Your shoulders begin to shake towards the end of your sentence. You fully began to cry.

Thank goodness you were separated from the rest of the restaurant-goers.

You were clearly unable to hold a conversation.

You wanted to bang your head on the table. Repeatedly.

Jungkook's brows almost touched his hairline.

"I'M the 'creep' she told you about. I'm the reason for... But I didn't know. I SWEAR. Until you told me. I knew then." You sniffle every two seconds. "I was going to tell you how I felt but then you- I'm sorry!" You finally broke down, sobbing into your hands.

"Hey. Just... breathe, okay?" You felt Jungkook shimmy out of his seat and back away from the table. He then walks over to you.

You already knew tomorrow's _____ was going to kill herself.

Jungkook pours you a glass of water.

He has no idea what to tell you.

He can't find the words to even begin to describe what he's feeling right now.

Jungkook's brain had stopped generating new thoughts. All he's thinking about is the crying girl in front of him, half-heartedly confessing her feelings for him.

Frustrated, he ran his hands through his hair. Then he looked down at you.

You are whom his girlfriend was worried about?

The same girl whom he hadn't stopped thinking about the past weeks.

The same girl who's his girlfriend's friend. His girlfriend.

His girlfriend who lied- hid things from him.

Had you planned this? Was Jia right to hide him away?

Jungkook really doesn't know what to think.

Jungkook needed to leave. He felt suffocated.

"_____, I'm sorry for the way things turned out. I... wish I had known the truth earlier." Jungkook solemnly spoke.

He hoped you believed him. He can't tell if you're in the right frame of mind to talk. He knows he sure isn't.

You sniffle harder, still appreciating his understanding. "I honestly just wanted to clear the air and be honestly honest with you...." You sigh deeply, speaking shakily. "I just thought... Maybe Jia would talk to me herself. And when she didn't--- I'm sorry I made you uncomfortable."

Jungkook just stood by you, unmovingly. It was as if he himself was trying to figure out what to say.

After what felt like forever, you hesitantly lift your head up to look at Jungkook, "I understand if you'd want to leave now."

And you meant it. You couldn't force him to watch you cry like an idiot. So, you understandingly told him he had a free will, that he could walk away.

And he really did.

Jungkook stared down at your tear-stained face for a few seconds.

Then without uttering a single word, he slowly blinked at you and walked away.

Now, you stare at the back of his head, wide-eyed.

You didn't expect him to actually leave this instance.

I mean, he didn't owe you anything, but you still felt uneasy.

The rational part of you truly understood his choice. But the emotional part of you was destroyed.

Even though you have no right to feel this way, you're so disappointed. In him. In yourself. In Jia. You think that's well deserved though; your disappointment in Jia.

Did she hate you?

Nothing else mattered.

You don’t know it yet but the biggest burden had just been lifted off your shoulders.

(Until you face Jia. But, more on that later.)

And, as for Jia; Jia had enough time to come clean. This was not on you. It was all her.

#fic: for what it's worth #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #jungkook x oc #jungkook angst #jeon jungkook x you #jungkook smut #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fanfic #jungkook au #bts x reader #bts angst

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thatdiabolicalfeminist · 10 months

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A lot of people will be spending more time with their families of origin in the next few weeks.

And when you're with people you've spent so much time around in the past, it can be easy to fall into old habits and social role dynamics without really noticing, and without evaluating whether those patterns are reflective of the values we have now.

So with that in mind, I'd like to gently suggest taking a closer look at your family's interactions and see whether there are patterns you're part of that you don't want to be and could potentially do something to disrupt.

For example, is there anyone:

your family routinely treats as faintly ridiculous or hysterical?

or whose ideas, opinions, or interests are automatically dismissed by the group when those same things would be worthy of consideration/discussion from someone else?

or who gets teased and made fun of more than others, or past the point where they seem to be having fun?

or who is expected to do a disproportionately large amount of work that others could be helping with?

or who is consistently left out of group activities and is not asked if they'd like to join this time? (Do they think you'd be happy if they did join in?)

or who is automatically treated like "the problem" in any conflict they're in, regardless of whether they initiated the conflict or were being reasonable or not?

or who makes/has made repeated requests that some reasonable boundary be respected that is habitually ignored, belittled, or argued with?

or who habitually speaks or acts in unkind or unloving ways and gets minimal pushback, and/or minimal concern for the targets of their unkindness, because "that's just how they are"?

Or is there maybe:

a gender, racial, and/or class/income, etc., divide in who in your family does how much cooking/cleaning/kinship work?

a difference in who leads dinnertable conversations and whose input, interests, opinions, etc., are more valued/respected?

a difference in whose job or home life is worthy of being asked about?

automatic assumptions about people's interests, skills, life experiences, etc., that haven't been updated in years? Is anyone trying to build connections and find out more about who each of you are now?

Group social dynamics are always complicated, and perhaps never more so than in families. I'm not in your family, and I don't know the complicated contexts between each of the members. I also don't know how you'd like your family interactions to go, or if you're even spending time together willingly or unwillingly. Maybe this post will be helpful to you, maybe not.

But if you want your family to interact in more loving ways, sometimes as adults or even teenagers there ARE things we can do to interrupt patterns people are participating in without even noticing!

We can start helping with work we're not expected to participate in, and we can ask others who don't participate to take on part of the task. (In many families, a man standing up and starting to clear away the dishes and saying, "Brian, would you mind grabbing the green beans and the mac and cheese?" would be out of the ordinary if the women usually do that, but (in many families) people would go along with it once suggested.)

We can try to bring neglected others into conversation by asking and genuinely listening to their thoughts and opinions.

We can speak up when someone's interrupted and insist that we want to hear the rest of their thought.

We can take seriously the person treated like a joke, and show others that we're taking them seriously.

We can say "I don't think we need to discuss people's bodies here" or "not cool, dude" and redirect the conversation when someone is unkind.

Sometimes we can take people aside and ask them to ease up on a person being teased. Sometimes saying "I think it's actually hurting their feelings" or "it's not funny anymore, let up" is enough to actually make a difference.

We can ask about someone's job, interests, home life, hobbies etc., when they are usually left out of being asked.

We can try to remember that people aren't fixed in stone, and try to get to know who people are now without making too many assumptions.

Sometimes harmful patterns can be interrupted just by pointing them out and making an effort to not participate in them anymore.

#how to be a good friend #family #how to not be an asshole #how to help #thatdiabolicalfeminist #long post

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laurashapiro-noreally · 6 months

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Looking for something to read?

Oh look, it's another recs post! This time I'm featuring two stories per author. These are writers I always make time for, whose work stands out as unusually hot, clever, funny, or smart -- sometimes all of the above.

I'm gonna start you out strong with two by @werpiper: After Hours takes Aziraphale and Crowley to the baths after their oyster supper, and all sorts of interesting pleasures are there for our angel to sample. Piper's Crowley is one of my favorites: always evaluating the situation, not quite aware of what his own heart is doing but feeling it anyway.

Fitting In is a new story, still a WIP, but I am utterly tantalized by Muriel's first taste of love -- and tea. This is already rich in detail, soft and fragrant, and I can hardly wait for the action to get going in earnest. The pairing seems surprising but when you think about it for ten seconds of course it makes sense. Sex workers help the curious, the awkward, and the inexperienced every day, bless them.

If you enjoy these, check out @werpiper's back catalog -- they have done a ton of ineffables-through-the-ages, and their series Miracles and Heresy is worth many delightful hours of your time.

I love what @copperplatebeech has been doing lately:

He's Not My Friend is a T-rated story that explores Aziraphale's constant refusal to acknowledge his relationship with Crowley, and Crowley's mirror of that, and how things glacially shift over time. It is subtle and yet specific, it will make you ache and smile.

All Of The Above, also T-rated, is a warm and fuzzy alternative to that, a hilarious celebration of true friendship that made me laugh out loud and still got me right in the feels.

@copperplatebeech can do everything, from quiet, gentle, and romantic to devastating plotty AUs to extraordinarily horny established relationship to absolutely ridiculous humor. Do dive in if you haven't already.

Next up, @cumaeansibyl, master of kink:

better living through technology manages to shove everything I want in a dirty story into less than three thousand words: uptight Aziraphale reduced to sodden wreck, Crowley gleefully showing him what he's been missing, character-driven erotics, and exceptionally funny dialogue.

indulgentiam peccatorum nostrorum is somehow all that and more, turning the "I was wrong" dance into a kink (something I can't get enough of, recs welcome). This one is post-Bastille so it is extra-juicy. Mind the tags!

@cumaeansibyl has a gift for established relationship one-shots, which readers of mine will know are my entire jam. They also have a mind-meltingly hot inverse!omens AU that features different variations of angelic/demonic Crowleys and Aziraphales for our ineffables to play with.

A new-to-me author, Calico, has me hanging by a thread with their Ineffable Romans series. If you want to remember that your ineffables aren't human, that they are inordinately clever but very stupid, that the feelings they have for each other are truly beyond what anyone alive has ever felt, Calico may be the writer for you. This stuff is deep. Also hot af.

Sub Rosa reads like a nasty shag at Petronius', but there's so much more going on here. It is Extremely Queer, driven by power dynamics, and Crowley is fully demonic here and absolutely in control...or is he?

The Intemperance of Liber Pater continues on this theme, with dialogue-driven smut that reads less like a seduction than an inevitability. There's another story in this series, unfinished, and I can't wait to see what happens next.

Last but not least: two short pieces by @ineffabildaddy. I stumbled on their stories just this week and I absolutely love their approach, which I've not seen done quite this way before.

take me as your wife has a tight first-person perspective as Crowley meets Aziraphale for a meal and imagines (or is it his imagination?) that Aziraphale is suggesting Certain Things about how they might occupy themselves later. Indeed, is he suggesting even more? Something about their relationship? Or is it all in Crowley's head?

Only in Dreams is kind of a companion piece, from Aziraphale's point of view -- though hundreds of years later. This one's set after the events of S2 and although just as romantic as take me as your wife, it also offers an ineffable take on the ol' glory hole concept. Just in case you thought I was getting soft. 😏

@ineffabildaddy has a whole series of poems and ficlets like these and I can't wait to explore them all.

#good omens #fic recs #good omens fic recs #ineffable husbands #ineffable partners #ineffable spouses #ineffable divorce #smut #fanfiction #fanfic #crowley #aziraphale #aziracrow #crowley x aziraphale #rare pair #muriel

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maple-the-awesome · 8 months

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Body Swap || Part 2/2

Part 1 ||

Pairings: Legend, Time, Twilight, Warrior x Reader

Overview: A wizard's spell leaves you both in a state of confusion, especially upon realizing you're no longer in your assigned bodies. No Wind for this one, so we'll just give him a cookie and spare him the trauma for today -.-/🍪 The other boys are at my mercy, though

Zelda Masterlist 💙Fandom Masterlist

Panic ensues nearly the second your situation becomes realized. Legend frantically tugs at his hair and clothing, hoping this to be some sort of illusion cast by that wizard, however his senses only confirm his fears: you've switched bodies.

You're him and he's you which probably shouldn't be as big of a deal as he makes it out to be considering how much worse this could've gone, after all, a greater enemy might've caused actual harm, yet that doesn't stop him from being upset.

Out of everyone this could've happened with - out of all nine of his traveling companions - why did this have to happen with you, the only girl in the group?! Nevermind that you're also his crush!

"I can't believe this..." He groans, picking at another strand of hair and holding it in front of his face. Alas, the color isn't the same as his usual faded pink, "Give me back my body!"

You whip your head around at Legend's demand, finding yourself mildly offended by it which is shown through the placement of your hands on your hips, "Don't you think I would if I could? Like it or not, I think we're stuck like this –"

"- Are you kidding me -?!"

"- Until the spell either wears off or we find a way to reserve it," You narrow your eyes when he interrupts. Standing, you dust yourself while he copies the action except with some added complaints and curses mumbled under his breath.

"I can't believe this. Of course, this is how my day would end. I can't ever catch a break, can I?! The others are never going to let this go. It's all we're going to hear about for the next week!"

"Geeze, I didn't know a day in my body would be so terrible for you."

Legend frowns, not intending to make you feel bad. It's not like you asked for any of this yourself. You’re equally as inconvenienced. It's just...reeeally weird and uncomfortable knowing that he's technically you right now. He's currently in the body of the girl he finds most attractive and sometimes daydreams about –

"I'm sure you're not having any more fun than I am. Let's just get out of here and find a solution as fast as possible, okay?" Legend hastily grabs your hand, intending on getting you both out of this dungeon before you can notice the redness to his cheeks (at least, he's sure he'd be blushing if in his own body right now. Is it even visible on your cheeks, though?), however almost as soon as he pulls, he's nearly thrown back against your unmoving weight.

Kill him now. He isn't used to not having his power bracelets.

"Did you...want me to follow you?"

"...Obviously..."

"Do you also want me to hold your hand so you don't get lost?" You give his hand a squeeze, all the while wearing a shit-eating grin that makes his face even warmer than before.

"...Forget it and fuck off," With that, he drops your hand and marches off, yet you aren't far behind, chasing after him while clearly having too much fun with his reaction.

"You know, this is usually the point when you ask me if I'm on my time of month! Is that your problem, Vet? You're already hormonal after just a few minutes in a girl's body?"

Has his laugh always been this obnoxious? Does he owe Warrior an apology?

"...Well, this is troublesome."

Your eye twitches after Time's calm 'evaluation' of the situation, "...'Troublesome'? You THINK?! You know, when I woke up this morning, I did not expect to end up becoming a sixty-year-old man -!"

"- Sixty? Is that how old you think I am?"

"Well, you act like it sometimes!" You defend, huffing at the end of your sentence before trying to rise onto your feet which still feel wobbly due to that wizard's spell. It takes you a second - and you almost tumble forward like a newborn giraffe, causing you to start swinging your arms around in a desperate attempt to regain balance - but eventually you do succeed in the basic human function called 'standing', "We need to find the Veteran. This is his stupid world, so I'm blaming him for this happening!"

Time, meanwhile, takes pity upon you by letting your previous comment slide. Unlike you, he easily gets to his feet as if ending up in someone else's body is an everyday occurrence for him. His new height is something you take immediate notice of, mentally noting how strange it is to be looking down at someone – let alone him – from so far up. Is this how it always feels for him? No wonder he took on the mantel of being the 'dad' of the group so quickly. You all probably look like literal children to him!

"Thank Hylia we camped close to the dungeon. The others should be getting ready for dinner at this point, so they'll all be in attendance to take joy in our misery," You smile sarcastically with a wave of your hand, however you only take a few steps forward before turning around and realizing that Time isn't following you. His face also looks rather...alarmed?

"...You okay there?"

He hums and gives you an awkward thumbs up, yet that doesn't change his expression any nor does he immediately move to follow you. He simply stands there, his face bright with embarrassment until he finally clears his throat, "I...think I might've had an accident?"

"An 'accident'...?" You scrunch your nose, needing a moment to understand what he could possibly mean. Did he just piss himself as you? You would've thought he'd have more self-control even if he isn’t technically himself. Sure, it might be scary opening your eyes to find yourself in someone else's body, but it's not that scary to warrant - ...Oooh...You get what he means now...

When the realization sinks in, you can feel your own face grow warm. You had forgotten all about that, "Oh shit. I, um...Yeah that's not – It's harmless, really. You'll be fine, it's just -...You know what, just don't worry about, okay? Let's focus on getting ourselves switched back around first. You, uh...gonna be okay dealing with it for now?"

Sympathy laces your voice, however it isn’t exactly strong enough to hide your embarrassment. Seriously, could this get anymore modifying? You weren't trying to think about the whole 'my-crush-is-currently-in-my-body' thing, but you definitely can't ignore it now! Out of all the days of the month this could happen - How embarrassing for you both!

Fortunately, Time, ever the brave gentlemen, nods, that be it slowly and unsurely, "If you can do it your whole life, I can manage for a day..."

"That's the spirit!" Please, please, please say Legend knows a solution for this because you will absolutely die if you have to talk Time through a 'change' of certain materials tonight.

“Oh no…”

“What do you mean by ‘oh no’? What happened? Are you hurt?” Twilight’s voice – which doesn’t really sound like his own – gets progressively more concerned by each question until he finally manages to escape the wall of smoke around him. Once finally receiving a clear view of his hands, he suddenly understands the meaning behind your less-than-thrilled expression.

“That’s what I mean by ‘oh no’,” You frown, watching as he flips his hands around front and back to confirm the notable difference he sees. It would be difficult to ignore how much smaller and smoother they’ve gotten…or to turn a blind eye to all the other major variations throughout the entirely of his body.

“Has anything like this happened to you before?” Whatever surprise you have towards your shared predicament is either quickly recovered from or masked well, because you don’t hesitate to pick yourself up and start collecting your fallen belongings – or rather Twilight’s – from the ground.

“Can’t say it has. I’m guessin’ you’re in the same boat?”

“Yeah, this is the first time I can knock ‘switching bodies’ off the bingo board,” You shake your head, pausing to watch him stand as well, “I know Wind mentioned being able to control other people’s bodies or something like that before. ‘not sure if it’s the same or if he’d know how to fix this.”

“Even if not, we’re in Legend’s world. He’d have to know some kind of solution,” Twilight sighs, going to place a hand on his hip out of habit, but he instantly decides against it in a quick movement he hopes wasn't too obviously. Even if he's consciously in this body, it's still yours. Touching his hip now would be no different from touching your hip any other time which is NOT a friendly place for hands to be! At least that's what his awkward brain tells him.

Trying not to dwell too much on any of that, he makes himself useful by plucking your dropped sword off the ground and returning it to your scabbard the same way you had done with his before reaching down to grab -

“- Don’t touch that!” You’re startled to a halt by Twilight’s sudden shout and turn to give him a puzzled look as he gulps while eyeing the shadow shard you were inches away from picking up next, “It, uh…It’s sharp.”

You narrow your eyes suspiciously at him, and for a second he’s worried he might just have to tackle you to prevent you from touching the object in question (which now that he’s considering it, would probably only be as effective as a sparrow attacking a horse seeing as you’ve switched bodies not to mention you’d only have more reason to question him in that case but -)

“- All you Links are such terrible liars,” You huff after a minute. Nevertheless, you step aside and allow Twilight to pick up the necklace himself. He’s careful to only touch the string and tuck it securely in a pocket because the very last thing he needs added to this day is you finding out one of his greatest secrets by literally becoming it yourself which would then undoubtably lead to his second greatest secret being discovered, after all, it's one thing for a random wolf to let you give him kisses free of charge, but there'll be a lot more to unravel there if you find out it's been your travel companion the whole time.

"Okay. Try not to panic. There has to be some way to reverse this - ARE YOU CHECKING ME OUT RIGHT NOW?!"

Warrior jumps with a start after having been caught, although he must not be too embarrassed because he doesn’t immediately remove his hands from their place on his hips nor does he show much shame in currently having his body turned at an angle to look at his – or more importantly – your back side, “What?! You do it to yourself all the time!”

"T-That’s not - When I'm in my own body!” You stammer, blushing at the realization that you apparently haven’t been as subtle with your habit of checking your own appearance here and there, “Excuse me if I don’t want to walk around looking like a mess with dirt and leaves stuck to my backside! I’m not over here looking at your dick!”

"I hardly think you can equate that to an ass," He deadpans.

"Well, I'm not looking at your ass, either, pervert!"

At last, something you say seems to get to him, your words causing Warrior to bow his head with a pout and that shared discomfort he should’ve had from the beginning, “I’m not a pervert. If it’s such a big deal, then you can come over here and fix the backside of this tunic. It’s riding up on me and it’s driving me crazy.”

You blink then glance around him to notice that your tunic is indeed all out of sorts, one end lifted and tucked in your belt. It must’ve gotten stuck that way during your fight with that wizard…Now you just feel like an idiot…

“…Oh.”

“Oh,” Warrior mocks with a roll of his eyes, not saying much else – perhaps out of pity - as he waits for you to help fix the tunic correctly, although truthfully he’s just busy redirecting his eyes and cursing himself internally for not having explained the situation from the start. He maybe-kinda spaced the fact that he’s currently in your body and didn’t consider the implications of what it would look like for you to see him fussing over your back end. How were you to know he was simply fixing your tunic? He really did probably look like a massive pervert.

“There,” You finally step away.

“Thanks,” He coughs into his fist awkwardly with his opposite hand rubbing the back of his neck. Even in a different body, he carries the same nervous habits, “Uh, sorry. I didn’t mean to –“

“- No. No, you’re fine. I, uh, should’ve had more trust in you," You mumble, running a hand over your hot face before shaking your head. You need to get it together, "Come on. Let's just get out of here and find a way to fix this before any other misunderstandings can happen."

Warrior nod and follows after you out of the dungeon without another word to be said. He won't say it aloud - He refuses to even admit it to himself because he's supposed to be a gentleman and what if you've suddenly become a mind reader?...But if you were to for some reason ask his opinion, you do in fact have a fine ass.

#x reader #reader insert #linked universe x reader #linked universe #link x reader #lu legend x reader #lu time x reader #lu twilight x reader #lu warrior x reader #legend of zelda x reader

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bogleech · 7 months

Note

I know this is going to be a silly question but I’m being put on adderall potentially soon and I have an anxiety about taking it because I watched that Netflix documentary about individuals who were put on it but had super adverse side effects or are unable to come off their high doses except by tapering off insanely slowly. It got me wondering about how likely it is for someone to become physically dependent on it or have such strong side effects that their physical health becomes a danger. The documentary was called “take your pills” or something along that line and since you take them I was wondering if the documentary was largely sensationalist or if these larger issues of taking adderall are due? Maybe some of your followers are familiar with what I’m talking about if you’re not?

Yeah that entire doc sounds like fearmongering lies. ANY medication can disagree with some people, there are allergies and sensitivities, but if you for-sure have ADHD then adderall will typically do nothing but calm down the topic-jumping of your brain, or just not really do anything at all. A tiny portion of people report that it made them feel shitty or "zombie-like." This is the first I've ever heard that anyone had to "taper off it." My ADHD symptoms themselves cause me to constantly forget doses. Sometimes I remember to take it every day for a month, then something throws me off and I forget for the whole next month. More often I'm just remembering to take it a few times a week, scattered randomly between days of forgetting. One reason it's so easy for me to forget is that I don't physically feel any different either way. There are no repercussions or "withdrawals" or anything at all noticeable if I miss any number of doses at any moment, and sometimes I only realize I missed a bunch because I'll evaluate how much I've gotten done, and when I've missed the adderall I find out I've wasted a whole lot more time lost in random thoughts or doomscrolling instead of finishing work. When I do take it I am someone it definitely works for because suddenly I achieve a reasonable if still imperfect level of productivity and focus. If those people interviewed were even real, they were one-in-a-million extremes, probably just outright allergic to something or other in the pill, or their entire diagnosis was wrong. Otherwise it's more likely the whole thing was scripted misinformation.

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im14andivebeen14foramonth · 1 month

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Ponyboy Curtis mental hospital stay hc bestie??? (We love all of your hc wanna like talk sometime?)

YESSS I LOVE PONY MENTAL HOSPITAL STAY (also thank youuu and omg yes ofc!!)

pony gets sent to a mental hospital around the winter after dally and johnny died

his concussion, along with his deteriorating mental health, caused him to start having hallucinations and night terrors of dally and johnny

his worsening mental and physical health started to show signs throughout his everyday life, mostly making him quick to anger. the school eventually called social services about it, as pony's anger was presenting itself at school with him getting into constant fights and yelling at teachers, which was very unlike himself. when he revealed that he had seen johnny and dally a few times and had consistent vivid nightmares about them, social services thought he might be going crazy

since it was the 60s, he got sent away to a mental hospital by social services, when in reality he wasn't going crazy like they thought. it was just his head trauma causing a short bout of hallucinations, and then ptsd triggering his nightmares to spike and be about dally and johnny

darry and soda fought tooth and nail to keep him from being sent away, but darry reminded soda and pony that this was a sort of deal between social services and darry; if darry cooperated and let pony spend some time there, and pony was doing better when social services evaluated him at the end of his stay, than they would let darry keep custody. darry didn't see much of another way around it, and though he didn't want to, he let them send pony away for two weeks

this sparked a lot of anger and resentment in pony, who hadn't been getting much sleep lately which automatically caused him to be quick to snap in anger at others. not to mention, pony being away from his brothers only made his nightmares worse. so, when pony first gets to the mental hospital, his first few days are spent lashing out, throwing furniture, and screaming at the workers until his throat goes raw

the first few visits were family only, and since pony was in a bad spot with darry, they never went well. he'd usually be dragged away screaming and kicking, yelling at darry for ruining his life. both darry and soda would walk out of these visits crying, though darry's were silent tears and soda was full on bawling

after a while though, pony realized that he was really missing being back home with his brothers. he may have been upset and struggling, but he also knew he wasn't "crazy" like the doctors said and shouldn't be there. he decided to start being on his best behavior so that social services would think he was getting better

in some ways he was getting better. his time away from his brothers, the gang, and his house made him realize just how much he had been missing out the past few months. it made him want to get out of the house more and go back to doing the things he had stopped doing months ago, like going to the movies and the DX. it also made him realize that if he didn't work on trying to get into a better place mentally, there was no way he'd be able to stay with darry, and these few days without darry and soda were some of the hardest of his life and he didn't want to think about spending any more time without them

he really did try to take in the good things that the doctors were saying and ignored the bad things. he especially started journaling more

the next time he saw darry and soda, he broke down in tears and kept saying how sorry he was for lashing out at them, and he promised them that he was going to get better. he started to bring his journal to the visits so that he could read off the things he was feeling to them, which opened up a big door for communication between the three

darry and soda of course forgave him, and never really blamed him for any of it in the first place. although they were worried about pony, they agreed that the doctors were wrong, and pony shouldn't be in there

after a little while, when the doctors had decided that pony is doing better, they let two-bit and steve come to the visits too. seeing them only makes pony miss being home even more, even if it seemed like they were all walking on eggshells around him

at the end of the two weeks, pony seemed to have made a "full recovery" (he definitely didn't, but pony's always been a good liar) and the doctors deemed him fit to be released. after meeting with social services, they decide that pony has gotten better enough to stay in darry's custody

it wasn't exactly easy when pony came home. pony still had night terrors and spent days at a time without sleeping, leaving him miserable and irritable. the curtis house was really tense and everyone tried to be super calm with pony. he appreciated the effort, but he eventually had to tell them to stop treating him like he was a piece of glass, which led to things going back to mostly normal

safe to say that pony spent a lot more nights with his brothers by his side, which helped lessen his nightmares, and he read off a lot more of his journal (and just his stories in general. darry and soda had really liked hearing the things pony had to say and wanted to hear more of the things he wrote. it became a sort of bonding thing between the three)

#the outsiders #the outsiders 1983 #the outsiders book #the outsiders ponyboy #the outsiders darry #the outsiders sodapop #the outsiders johnny #the outsiders dally #the outsiders steve #the outsiders two bit #ponyboy curtis #sodapop curtis #darry curtis #johnny cade #dallas winston #two bit mathews #steve randle #tw mental hospital

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prolix-yuy · 4 months

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Hello friends! It's been way way way way WAY too long since we chatted, and to be honest I've been taking an embarrassingly long time to write this update post because godDAMN life just gets you sometimes and you go on an impromptu hiatus that gets super messy. So let's get into what's been going on and what to look forward to!

Pedro Tax for this long-ass post.

(We're gonna get into some personal stuff, but if you're just here for what's coming up skip down to WHAT'S NEXT for the tl;dr version)

So beyond work getting hectic from January to March, which was the catalyst for everything getting wacky, I experienced a weird emotional turn that I wasn't expecting. It made me get a little introspective, which I blame some of my productivity slump on.

As I was finishing up the Bangathon entries, I noticed a sharp decline in interaction. I'm a fairly young fic writer on Tumblr, but I was a little baffled as to why stories I'd posted only a week before got a nice bit of interaction yet the newer ones were only getting half to a quarter of what I expected. For a minute I thought I had been shadowbanned (I was not) or I hadn't tagged the posts (I had) or my taglists weren't working (they were). People were already talking about interaction being lower, so I sat back and tried to go with the flow and not let it bother me. I posted Decoherence, which has a more niche audience, but I was definitely missing and wishing for some of the comments and reblogs I thought I might get.

All this led up to one of the least favorite voices in my head saying something that stuck around:

"Well, you were right not to become a writer if your motivation is this closely tied to feedback."

If you're new here or I haven't talked about it much recently, I initially was planning to be a writer. Went to school for it and everything. While I was there I felt like I hadn't found the stories I wanted to tell yet. My colleagues were developing in their niches and writing "the great American novel" and I didn't feel like I fit in. My stories had a lukewarm reception, and I never felt like anyone was excited about anything I was trying to say. So I wrote myself into burnout by the time I graduated with not much to show for it. I ended up doing a career switch, which I love to this day, but I stopped writing for almost 10 years.

Coming to Tumblr, I felt that spark of excitement writing again, and some of that was definitely due to people commenting and being excited or interested in the stories I was sharing. That truly revived something in me I thought was long gone, and reflecting back on the last two years that I've been sharing stories with this community makes me wildly emotional. I didn't know how much I missed of the life I left behind, and how much joy it brought me to share stories again.

Which is why it was SUPREMELY FRUSTRATING to have that shitty little voice pulverize my productivity and excitement over something as silly as interaction. But I'm sure most of you know how hard it is to get that voice out of your head. I worked to write things I found fun and less stressful than the series I already felt bad for not updating. And while I still love those stories, it felt like I was pulling them from an inauthentic place and finishing them wasn't as satisfying as I'd hoped.

Thus the hiatus! I stopped writing and turned my attentions to consuming and creating in other ways. I watched some shows I'd been meaning to catch up on, started planning to buy a house, worked my butt off at the day job. And I was starting to feel like inspiration was coming back. I didn't want to spook it so I took my time and promised myself I was going to start small and not stress about getting stories out for a bit.

Top that off with some medical surprises, an upcoming surgery, and a little re-evaluation of life moving forward and things have been wild. But I've been missing the daily joy I get from being part of this fandom, and I'm getting back into being here more because I miss you guys! AND! I have stories I want to share and fun to be had. So let's shake off all the heavy shit and get to the fun stuff!

WHAT'S NEXT!

The big thing I'm getting ready to post (after teasing it for so long) is the 2024 Bangathon! This one is different from last year's because instead of requesting stories from me, the Bangathon is open to anyone who wants to participate! There will be a randomizer to play with, and some fun bonuses for those who participate. The announcement will be coming out soon, stay tuned!

As for fics, here are some updates on what's in my WIPs:

Series:

I Think of You: I spent some time rewatching Mando for the newest installment, and I've finally gotten the thread of where to go next thought out. It's been a long time coming so this one's gonna be BEEFY to make up for it.

SW!Frankie: I am crushed to realize it's been over a year since I posted any SW!Frankie! I've got a new story about him and Ms J moving in together I need to finish, then some more asks that are getting into new story arcs I'm excited to share!

Best Laid Plans: Dieter and Murch's first date is bouncing around in my head and I NEED to get it on paper. There's much fun to be had, and I've been binge listening to my playlist for them to get into the headspace.

Midnight Alley: I got all up in my own head about continuing the story with these two and lost a little steam, so I'm going to ease off my "big plans" and start smaller with some oneshots instead. I think it'll help me find out where I want this story to go.

One Shots in Progress:

Decoherence Follow-Up

Incubus!Dieter Ask

You know, laying it out like that makes it feel much more manageable than my brain was telling me! I'm also planning to prioritize more fic reading while I'm getting these updates in ship-shape. Reading your stories always helps get my creative juices flowing, and there are so many good ones lingering in my TBR list that I need to devour.

This has been a rollercoaster of emotions, so thank you for coming on the ride with me. I'm excited to bring more of myself back to Tumblr and have fun with all of you again! To many more stories!

#prolix wips #I'm sorry I've been away for so long!#but I'm back!#if there are things I missed please tag me or send them!#I want to read all your stories!

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imeriayapping · 11 days

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He doesn't know when it starts or even how.

Well if Logan tried to go back to see all the steps that lead him here he should probably start around 2021 when he first opened MotoGP race when there was nothing else to watch.

He was always hungry for more, watching as much different racing as he could, it's just motorcycles are a bit out of his comfort zone so he never gravitated towards opening a stream somewhere to watch.

Of course logan knew about it, about people in it and thought about Rossi the same way he did about Gordon and Hamilton if not for his own experience of watching than at least for how much lando was talking about him. As the Greatest of all.

It takes him a bit to learn all teams, how everything works and some major events but he gets there, fully emerged at that point.

Logan still doesn't watch all that much content of riders bc he's not interested in their personalities besides what they say about bikes but he catches glimpse of how insane it all is anyway and it fascinates him when he compares it to formula scenery where it's so political and everyone is second away from clawing at your throat.

Guys there are wild and don't have pr crafted personalities that they need just to survive. Next season starts, he gets into f2 and watching gets a bit more challenging on some weekends but manageable on most. And nothing would change if not for one bike that his eyes keep going back to and the guy on it that Logan starts watching press conferences forBc firstly bez is amazing and it's interesting to watch him on track. And secondly he's just so..... different, so open and always smiley.

It's fascinating to Logan because it's almost diametrally different from what he himself is. He loves a good hug don't get him wrong but living mostly alone on another continent from your family and all friends doesn't make for a lot of opportunities to express emotions through touches. Sometimes it feels like he can go weeks without meaningful contact. Also Logan can only watch how outgoing and extrovert marco is never even being close to that, sticking with few people that he knew the best.

It somehow transformed into following him on multiple platforms and watching whatever content motogp or his team would put out. It became kinda embarrassing at the point where he could understand a few Italian words from sheer amount of them that he heard before. It was a bit annoying not being able to understand a lot of stuff but he wouldn't prove "dumb American" stereotype by wishing for guy to speak only in English. Plus the way his voice sounded when he actually did talk in English was very cute, so nothing to be sad about.

Logan started wondering if this what admiration for drivers felt like because he never experienced it before always only motivated by his own desire to win not by those he saw on screens. It was pretty tough to rationalize by himself so he went to the most rational person he could think of (and totally not because it was his only friend on the grid,no) - oscar.

It was usual hangout for them only stained by somewhat awkward logan who didn't know how to approach subject until oscar points out his weird behaviour and makes him talk it all out while listening intently. In the end oscar just answered with short but straightforward "sounds more like you catching an internet crush that anything else" which made Logan spat out million protesters a second only stopped by solid hand on his forearm

"Look you should think it all over and if you still not sure I'll go to MotoGP race next month for promo so you can tag along and actually speak to the guy to see how you feel"It took him a while to evaluate everything and actually come to some form of conclusion but looking back oscar wasn't wrong, it's just Logan never catched feelings in similar way so it was confusing. But looking at it now it wasn't even surprising with how mesmerising marco was, resembling the sun whenever he went with his blinding smile and warm attitude. And Logan wanted to reach out to that shine too

But even ignoring all that he asepted Oscar's offer mostly to watch race itself because in person it would be way cooler than through small screen in shitty hotel room. Logan didn't plan on even going close to bez there because mortifying ordeal of confronting a crush that doesn't know you exist is a bit too much for him but it's not like anything ever goes according to his plan.

So this time what gone wrong was bez himself that catched a cute blonde guy laughing with sun rays in corners of his eyes while talking to someone but standing completely on his own otherwise looking a bit uncomfortable in unfamiliar space. And of course marco went to introduce himself because why waste such chance? Especially when his outstretched hand ready for handshake is met with blush and shuttering before he even managed to say anything besides "hi, I'm bez"

#my desperation on bez/logan #THE VISION IS THERE BELIEVE ME GUYS #also sorry if it's badly written my English choosen not to English properly today #logan sargeant #ls2 #marco bezzecchi #mb72 #f1 rpf #motogp rpf #i like the idea of bez being the sun in personality and logan in appearance #also logan would be soooo jealous of ability to be just himself and voice his opinions and not just pr correct statements #please someone see my vision it took so long to came up with properly #also for me reason why bez doesn't recognise logan is bc it's somewhere close to the start of 2023 so he's not as famous #and also driving for wiliams which shouldn't be very important to bez #also in the corner of a garage he's gonna look way different than any promo pics #okay bye please tell me your thoughts afterwards

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jodiellie · 4 months

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Week 1 Evaluation

It's been a week since I've started this journey, so let's reflect on how the first week has been!

First of all, let's have a refresher on what my GOALS for this 30 days initially is~

Fixing my sleep schedule

Incorporate more physical activities (doesn't have to be exercising, can be stretches or walks!)

Drawing more often for practice

Sleep:

I'd say sleep wise, I'm slowly getting better at it. Though, there are moments where I couldn't get myself to sleep and ended up getting worse. But in general, I think I've made good progress than before I started on this journey, so good job me! ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧

Physical activities:

I'm pretty proud of my progress for this! So far, I've managed to do something everyday for the past week to get my body moving! Whether it be actually following along exercising videos on Youtube or some stretching to ease some tension on muscles! Again, good job to myself uwu

Drawing:

Now this. I did NOT meet this goal at all during this entire week, which is a shame. I think I was focusing a lot on taking better care of my own body that the thought of taking care of my skill set kinda slipped my mind? Which, to be fair, is kind of expected since even trying to remind myself to do certain basic self care task is difficult in itself. So, it's okay, we'll just have to do better during the following week~

Extras:

Other extra stuff for my health that I think would I've done well is also finally taking my meds and vitamins. Though it's not consistent yet, I'm glad I finally was able to take them more than I was before. This goes for my water intake as well! Sometimes I would go on days without drinking any water at all, which is quite bad... But now that I'm trying to actively record down my days and what I've done to better my body, it serves as a reminder in itself to drink more water, so yayyy another great job done for me °ʚ(´꒳`)ɞ°

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Things I need to improve/add for the following week:

After a week into this journey, I think I'd like to adjust some of my goals and be a little more specific in what I want to achieve for hopefully the next week! This will help me be a little clearer with what I need to do and help myself feel good in the future >:)

Try to sleep 30 mins earlier than the last, but the latest time for me to go to bed would be 3am. I have been doing quite okay with only a few slips here and there on this. So hopefully by the end of the next week, I can somehow sleep around 12am instead.

Still moving my body every single day, but let's try to exercise 3 times this week for at least 30 minutes! It's been a long time since I've exercised that I forgot how good I always feel afterwards both physically and mentally. So yes, I'd like to challenge myself to actually do some exercise more often! ( *` • ω •´)ゝ

Since I have 0 progress on my drawing, I want to start slow and easy myself into it. Since it feels daunting (for some reason), let's try achieving at least 30 minutes per day for 3 days of art practice. Can be anything, like anatomy, color study, or even just my own personal art. As long as it reaches the goal I set, then it's good :>

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ziggyzolch · 6 months

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Your Prettiness is Seeping Through II (Wanda Maximoff x Reader)

Warnings: maybe bungled the medical stuff and process of being admitted, suicidal ideation, aftermath, descriptions of self harm kind of? its not like currently happening. Bulimia and what comes with it. Those r the main things I think. Previous Chapter

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

-------the shame is manifest in my resistance------- ❅❅❅

“So they’re admitting you?”

You could feel the snow being crushed beneath your weight as you leaned back on your hands. The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon and your best friend was sitting next to you on a random curb, taking the pack of cigarettes from your hand.

It was mid-winter. The city streets bustled with the cheer of festive Christmas decorations and the harmonies of carolers. It almost makes you feel better. You never cared for Christmas, or religion in general, but the joy in the little kids’ faces at the snow blanketing the streets, and the laughing of teenagers having snowball fights was cute.

It helped.

You sigh, turning towards your friend, “No, I don’t think so. Most that’ll happen is I’ll be in therapy, I guess.”

She rubs her hands together in an attempt to warm up, “I think I’d kill myself if I got caught. Kidding, you’ll be fine. Probably.”

You scoff, “Thanks,”

You snatched the pack from her hand, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it.

You had gotten over the fear of throat cancer a long time ago. It’s more of an expectation than a fear now. Smoking and purging at the same time kind of makes it an inevitability. The thought of death didn’t scare you. Not that you were cripplingly suicidal. You didn’t desperately want to die anymore, you just wouldn’t mind if you did. If you died from all of these habits, it was fine, great even. If not, whatever.

Passively suicidal.

Tomorrow, you’ll have your long awaited psych evaluation. You were shocked that it wasn’t the first thing they’d done. You weren’t that big of a risk anyways. A week has passed since your parents caught you, and you’d been made to take a number of medical tests to determine the severity of your bulimia, or something.

The first one was a general physical assessment, the most simple yet most uncomfortable. You had been made to wear a hospital gown, which you felt was overboard but whatever. They wouldn’t be able to admit you just based off of a BMI measurement, you were sure. You weren’t very underweight, most bulimics you knew weren’t. In fact, most of them were normal, sometimes overweight, but you just assumed it was because they were bad at it. You didn’t feel anything looking at your weight. Numbers mattered, sure, but with every binge and purge, your weight fluctuated like crazy, so you learned to just look for signs of weight loss via mirror.

She read your BMI out loud, you knew it wasn’t low enough to be a concern. You internally celebrated, until you noticed her eyes glancing down to your arm.

Shit.

Burning was your preferred method of self mutilation. Cutting was unsatisfying, messy, and a pain in the ass. Burns look disgusting when they heal though, which was the only downside. The scars are easily passable as cooking accidents and such. When they’re still healing, though, charred, blistered, and disgusting, they’re almost impossible to excuse. Your mom had caught you once, with your worst burn nonetheless. One offer of taking over the chores for the day and she was off your back, already taking her place on the sofa.

The burns weren’t fresh, not at all. Most of them were years old, but you panicked nonetheless. You’ve seen how batshit they get at any sign of self harm. You watched as she glanced towards your arm, then turned back to her clipboard, writing something down. Subtly moving your other arm behind your back, you cover up the bruises on your knuckles.

You also had to go to a dentist appointment. Last time you went, you had just gotten your braces off and permanent retainers in. You still have glue on the back of your teeth from when your top retainer broke, they had never gotten rid of it. With how often it fell off, you were glad the dentist had given up on putting in replacements.

You were more worried about this appointment than the physical assessment. You couldn’t keep food down, smiling with your eroded teeth was uncomfortable, and your breath was horrible. The dentist would definitely notice something, at the very least that you were a smoker. Your mother would hate that more than bulimia.

Honestly, despite all of these effects, you got the benefit of barely having a gag reflex. Which, now that you think about it, doesn’t really matter considering you don’t even like men.

Surprise was clear on your face when your dentist complimented you on the health of your teeth and sent you on your way.

You didn’t really know what the other tests were, something about heart arrhythmias and electrolytes. You didn’t care, you were so over it. It was all bullshit. You weren’t sad. You weren’t suicidal nor were you a danger to yourself or others. You were just bulimic, not on the brink of fucking brain collapse.

All of this was bullshit.

❅❅❅

Wanda’s senses come back one by one. Her ears pick up the soft whirring of machinery and occasional beeping of monitors. The soft footsteps of nurses and patients walking past, the opening and closing of a door as doctors enter, the scratching of their pens against their clipboard. The lingering scent of antiseptic reaches her nose, and the bitter taste in her mouth makes itself known. Her fingers pinch the stiff material of her gown, and she can feel the IV in her arm. Finally, she opens her eyes.

Waking up in the fiery depths of hell would’ve been better than where Wanda was right now. She mumbled curses under her breath as she looked around, taking in the hospital equipment around her.

“Natasha?” She croaked out when she caught sight of her friend sleeping on the hospital chair in the corner of the room. Natasha jumped up, wiping the drool off her chin and rushing towards Wanda. “Oh, thank god.” She sighed, pulling Wanda into an awkward hug.

She pulls back when she realizes Wanda wasn’t hugging her back. “How do you feel?” Wanda cringes at the pity on Natasha’s face. “Peachy.” She turns away, not stopping Natasha when she reaches to grab her hand.

The widow sighs, rubbing circles into Wanda’s hand, making her fingers twitch slightly. They sit in silence, not knowing what to say to each other. Wanda was glad Natasha had found her. She didn’t want to be found at all, but at least it was Natasha.

She was so stupid, so fucking stupid. Of course it wouldn’t have worked. She should’ve just shot herself in the head, like a man. She’d read somewhere that men have higher suicide rates because they carry it out in more extreme ways. Girls usually go for lighter, prettier deaths. Overdoses, slitting their wrists in a rose petal filled bathtub, and such. More survivable, and less of a burden for whoever cleans up after them. Men don't feel the same obligation. So what if it's more work for the cleaners? A shotgun to the head is easier for them, that's what matters. They don't think about how puffy their face would get if they hung themselves, or how awkward they'd be positioned on the ground if they jumped off a building. They don't think about the possibility of surviving afterwards and dealing with the deformity.

Pietro’s lifeless body flashes in her mind.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

Wanda finally notices the iron grip she had on Natasha’s hand.

She didn’t want to talk about Pietro. Never. “What’s going to happen to me?”

Her friend looks away, “You’re suspended until you get help.”

“What! No!” Wanda sits up, snatching her hand out of Natasha’s grip, “This was the first time! Bruce tried to kill himself, why isn’t he suspended?”

“That was before he even joined.”

Wanda sighs, “So, what like, therapy for a week?”

Natasha raises her eyebrows, “Wanda, you tried to kill yourself. You need to be monitored.”

“I’m not a fucking child. Jesus, Nat!”

“It’s not up to me, Fury’s orders. Either get help or you’re fired, basically.”

“Don’t I need a psychological evaluation or some shit?”

“Wanda, you swallowed a whole bottle of whatever-the-fuck pills. I can evaluate you right now. You’re fucked in the head, babe.” Natasha attempts to joke.

She sighs in relief when Wanda huffs out a laugh, “So, you’re sending me to the loony bin?”

“Yup. It’ll be great though, perks of being an Avenger.” Natasha places a comforting hand on Wanda’s shoulder.

“How long will I be there?”

Natasha grabs Wanda’s hand that’s picking at her gown, “Until you’re better.”

The sound of a girl yelling stops their conversation.

❅❅❅

“Inpatient would be the best option…”

The ringing in your ears blocks out whatever the doctor was saying. What the fuck. You were not crazy. So what if you were bulimic. You didn’t constantly starve yourself and avoid food so you were chill, but you also were not getting fat, so you were hot. It’s like a win-win.

You’re sitting with your parents, a doctor across from you. He must be a therapist, or psychologist…psychiatrist? Potato, Tomato.

A hand on your shoulder brings you back to earth. Tears are pooling in your mothers eyes, your father is sighing into his hand. “What about my classes? My life!”

“Lower your voice. You aren’t being sent away to the fucking Alcatraz.” Your father grits out.

The doctor chimes in, “I’m sure you’ll be able to do your school work, most institutions let you have books and supervised computer time.”

You push your mothers hand off your shoulder. “Why are you doing this to me?”

She scoffs, “Me? Why are you doing this to yourself!”

“You can’t make me!” Passersby can hear your voice through the closed door of the office.

It was true, they couldn’t really. You were a legal adult, they couldn’t make you do shit. Your mother pinches the bridge of her nose before turning to your father expectedly. You look back and forth between them with an eyebrow raised.

“We won’t support you anymore if you don’t do this.” He finally pushes out.

“What? As if you’ve ever supported-”

Oh. Financially. College and such. Housing and such. Food…and such.

You’re not that level of adult, yet.

“What the fuck-”

“Language!”

“No! What the actual fuck! I’m not sick!”

Your father’s face contorts in anger, “Did you not hear a single word the doctor said? Your potassium levels, electrolytes, and heart are all fucked! You could have a heart attack!” He takes a breath,

“You are killing yourself.”

“What?” You don’t know what to say. Why is your heart beating so fast?

You let out a frustrated shriek, getting up to leave. They don’t know what they’re saying. You storm out of the office, narrowly avoiding passing nurses and stretchers, trying to ignore the sense of dread building within you.

Heart attacks were a lame death. You could imagine how stupid you'd look; jaw wide open, leaning back in your desk chair, clutching at your chest. The door to your room is always locked, so your parents wouldn’t care to check for a while. They’d just assume you were isolating yourself.

Stiffening up in that position, rotting and decomposing. So lame, so ugly.

It didn’t scare you.

Your head ricocheting off a wall interrupts your spiral.

Natasha winces, peaking over the door to find you on the floor, rubbing your head. Wanda had asked her to check what was going on, and you happened to be passing by at the same time she opened the door. You push yourself off the floor before Natasha could help you up. Black spots appear in your vision and you start swaying. You must’ve stood up too fast.

Natasha holds you up as you fall into her for a second, before you regain your bearings.

“Get off me!”

She lets go immediately, raising an eyebrow when you double-take at the sight of Wanda.

‘She’s so skinny.’

Wanda looks up at you, confused when she takes you in. You could’ve been the same weight as her, if not a little more. She doesn’t read people's thoughts if she can help it, but yours were so loud. You blush when she makes eye contact with you, turning and stomping away.

Your footsteps fade as Natasha closes the door, making her way back to Wanda. The widow smiles at Wanda, poking her side, “I think she has a crush on you.” Wanda’s eyes widen, “No way; she said I was skinny.” Natasha tilts her head, “Like in a disgusted way?” The witch looks down at her hands.

She assumed it was envy at first, but you didn’t look like you weighed significantly more than her. Nor was it disgust, based off of how you looked at her.

“Not…really. I don’t know.”

Natasha sighs, “Well, it doesn't matter. We’ll fatten you up in no time.”

She winces at Wanda’s obviously forced laugh.

She didn’t like being skinny, but it was an effect of her depression. It wouldn’t be that easy to reverse. The only reason she was open to this treatment was so that she could go back to work. She’ll just pretend to get better, go back, and work until she can’t take it anymore. Next time, she’ll use a gun. Actually, would she subconsciously stop the bullet with her powers? The pills almost killed her, maybe she’d just lock her door next time. She could pick up smoking, maybe that’d be like a backup. A slow, eventual death could be happening in the background while she found short term options. Multitasker.

“What’re you thinking about?”

Wanda is taken out of her reverie as Natasha pokes at her stomach again. She smiles, shaking her head and curling up into the bed. The older redhead pats her shoulder, “The squad’s going to visit before you leave. Just thought I’d give you a heads up.”

Wanda groans, she didn’t need any more people up her ass.

She stiffens at the sound of sniffling, looking up when she feels her shoulder dampen.

“Don’t ever do that again.”

Natasha leans over her frame, hair masking her face. The brunette stammers, racking her brain for a reply. She’d never seen Natasha so emotional. It was like hearing Steve use slang.

She sighs, curling further into herself and ignoring Natasha. She wishes she could reassure her. Tell her that even the thought of trying again made her nauseous, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t live the rest of her life seeing her brother's corpse every time she blinks.

Living with the memory of Pietro’s death for the rest of her life was worse than any torture she’d ever endured.

She ignores the flashing images as her eyes drift close, falling asleep to the sound of Natasha’s sniffling.

❅❅❅

A/N: I lowk regret writing in in second person but yolo. reply to this post if u wanna get tagged in the next chapter. I hope you enjoyed!

Tags: @mathxa @nikkinss

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ros3ybabe · 4 months

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Daily Check-in: May 9, 2024 🎀

Thursday was a good day that ended on a sour note, but that happens sometimes, especially ok days when my therapy sessions go a little deeper. But it's all a part of the healing process.

🩷 What I Accomplished:

read 10 pages of a book

studied Spanish for 23 minutes

booked an italki lesson for the 21st

had an hour long therapy session

did my full night skincare

planned out some stuff

rescheduled my plans with my friend for Friday since she had stuff she had forgotten about

talked to my dad

zoomed with my boyfriend

re evaluated some of my health goals and action step

💞 Good Things That Happened:

I passed psyc with an A and all my grades are currently passing

I bought a watermelon!!!

took a 45 minute nap

my roommates washed some of my dishes (they've been petty for jo reason lately and have not been very nice so seeing that they did some of my dishes was nice. despite them throwing away my full, barely opened bag of spinach. but oh well)

💗 Stuff For Friday

cleaning final for restaurant class 1030am to 130pm

study spanish

read my daily minimum of a book

re plan my workouts for next week

sort out getting back to my morning routine

do my night time skincare

finish my very last assignment for the semester

go shopping and grab coffee with my friend

Thursday reminded me that I don't like staying in my room/in my bed like that because it just brings me down. My goals for this summer before I head to Colorado are to take walks, stay active, sit at my desk, keep my step count up, and just take care of myself. I deserve all the self-love and self care <3

💕 Song of The Day: aespa - Spicy

this feels like a summer vibe type of song.

til next time lovelies 🩷

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spicyclover · 1 year

Text

Delilah | part one

Summary: “ Hey there, Delilah I know times are gettin' hard But just believe me, girl Someday I'll pay the bills with this guitar We'll have it good We'll have the life we knew we would My word is good “

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

Hope you’ll enjoy this part. Let me know in the comments section! And to support me by tipping me!

I'm open to requests.

Thank you, and Enjoy! :)

Lots of love, xxx Spicy Clover

You walk a weary step towards your daughter’s room, opening the door gently. You look inside before you slip into the room's darkness to wake up your daughter.

"Buenos días, cariño." You greet her, stroking her hair slowly. "Tienes que despertar. Tenemos que ir a la escuela." Good morning, baby. You have to wake up, and we have to go to school.

"Mamá, no quiero ir." She says, hiding her face in your pillow. Mommy, I don't want to go.

"It's not negotiable, you chuckle, stroking her hair once last time before opening the curtains.

Delilah growls before putting her duvet on her face, and you laugh at her grumpy head. She looks so much like her father in the morning. You go to the kitchen and make breakfast, feeding your little cat Gato.

Gato is the spitting image of the Puss in Boots trapped in Garfield’s body. You rescued him in a shelter about a year ago. He was Delilah’s birthday present for her fifth birthday. He was already in a deplorable condition, overweight, with a broken leg and an eye problem, but he was the one she wanted. And the truth is, Gato’s really getting better today.

"¡Mamá! Ven a ayudarme." Scream your daughter through the apartment. Mom! Help me.

"What's going on?"

"My brush is stuck." She responds in English.

Since her birth, you have always spoken to her in both languages; yours and his. You don’t want her to lose her roots, even if she never knew him. Talking to her in Spanish kind of brings her closer to him.

The bigger she gets, the more she looks like him. Sometimes when you look her in the eye, you see him, and she inherited his eyes, mouth, hair, and nervous tics.

You walk into the bathroom and watch your daughter slaughter her hair.

"¿Qué hiciste? Dios, eres realmente imposible." You pull on the brush, but a big knot has formed. What did you do? God, you are really impossible.

You take a breath and look at the damage. You evaluate all the possibilities, and you decide to remove the maximum of hair before taking scissors and cutting the stuck strands.

You braid it quickly to hide the damage, and you run to the kitchen realizing all the time you lost in the bathroom. Delilah swallows her breakfast fast, and you send her to brush her teeth while you make her schoolbag.

You dropped her off at school before you ran to your train to work.

Living in Fuengirola is great and way cheaper than in Marbella. So you made a compromise. If you want to live comfortably, you spend forty-five minutes every day of the week on a bus, morning and night. You work in a private primary school there.

You make more than regular teachers but do not live next door. Something It is exhausting to juggle Marbella and Fuengirola. Your daughter and your students, your schedule and hers.

You finish your day at 3:30. When the bell rings, you gather your things and hurry to the bus station, taking the bus home. You spend half an hour correcting homework and getting ahead of your weekly classes, and you can’t wait to find your daughter and hug her.

We must say that since she was born. It’s always been just you two. You two and the rest of the world, or almost. Your next-door neighbour, Paola, looks after Delilah every day after school until you get home. She also brings her to her ballet classes at night while you make dinner and continue your work.

Today is no exception. You come home and drop off your stuff, knowing Delilah is at her dance class. You shower, change into comfortable clothes, and prepare dinner for the three of you. It’s weird when you think about it. You want to spend most of your time with her, but you don’t even have three hours with her every day. Just thinking about makes you have tears in your eyes.

You heard the door open, and in a second, a little girl with brown eyes came running into your arms.

"¡Mamá! ¡Mamá! Hoy tuve un 10 de 10 en la escuela de matemáticas. También hice una nueva amiga, se llama Carla." She’s screaming at you. Showing you the copy, the teacher wrote the perfect note. "And the teacher said we can bring our dads next week for La semana del padre." Her attitude changes a little, and a little sadness appears. "Do you think he will come?" Mom! Mom! I had a 10 out of 10 in school today in mathematics. I also made a new friend, her name is Carla.

Okay, let's put things in perspective. You technically didn’t tell Delilah that her father never wanted her; instead, he is a great pilot who travels the world searching for treasure. You would say to her the truth eventually. But the bigger she gets, the harder it gets to tell the cruel reality that her father never wanted her.

Carlos never wanted to be a father, and when he found out you were pregnant when you were only nineteen, he left you on the spot, leaving you alone in this mess.

You resented him terribly and didn’t want anyone to say his name for quite some time after he left you. So, it became taboo, and his name became a curse in your family. Your father wasn’t happy with you being pregnant this young and without a husband, and he’s been refusing to talk to you ever since.

Your mother is still trying to reconcile you, but your father is too nippy to bend his principles. So, Delilah never got to know her grandparents, either. And you’re not even sure that Carlos' family knows she exists.

When you were pregnant, you’d hesitated for a long time whether to tell Carlos when she was born. You still made the gesture of sending a message on the day of her birth to inform him, but you never got an answer.

Life went on, and you managed to make it. You live in a lovely apartment, small but comfortable, and you no longer depend on endless ends of months.

"I don't think he'll make it, baby." You say sadly, avoiding a look from Paola.

"Oh, Okay." she sights, disappointed, and you felt terrible.

Later that evening, Delilah was sleeping in bed, and Paola was helping you put everything away. You were both very quiet, with neither wanting to break that silence. However, you did see her staring at you all night.

“Stop giving me the side eye.”

“Am not.”

“You are, and you know you are.”

“You should have told her way before. That’s all I am going to say about this.”

You sight before turning your body to hers.

“It’s complicated, and I don’t want her to be broken when she found out that he never wanted her and left to live his dream while I was saving every penny I got to be able to eat something at least once a day. I don’t want her to feel the way I’ve felt for the past seven years.”

Paola doesn’t say anything, but her eyes deviate to a little human behind you.

“Mama,” mumbles Delilah.

You look at her and sigh. “Well, we will have this conversation way sooner than expected.” you think, taking her in your arm and going back to her room to put her back to sleep.

“¿Acaso no me ama?” She asks when you place her in her bed, one’s more. Doesn’t he love me?

“No lo sé, cariño. Es complicado. Tu padre es una persona complicada.” You say, stroking her hair. I don't know, baby. It's complicated. Your dad is a complex person.

“¿He hecho algo malo?” Did I do something wrong?

“You did nothing wrong. We were just too young, and he was too immature to take responsibility. This has nothing to be with you. You are perfect the way you are, and I love you with all my heart. But if you want. I can try and contact him and see if we can meet? ¿Es algo que te interesaría?” Is this something that you would be interested in?

“¡Sí, mamá!”

You kiss her head and close the door getting back to the living room. Paola returned to her apartment, and you sat by the door, wondering what to do.

Let me know if you would like a part two in the comments!

Delilah; six years old. ^^

Inspire by

Hey there, Delilah What's it like in New York city? I'm a thousand miles away But, girl, tonight you look so pretty Yes, you do Time square can't shine as bright as you I swear, it's true

Hey there, Delilah Don't you worry about the distance I'm right there if you get lonely Give this song another listen Close your eyes Listen to my voice, it's my disguise I'm by your side

Oh, it's what you do to me Oh, it's what you do to me (2x) What you do to me

Hey there, Delilah I know times are gettin' hard But just believe me, girl Someday I'll pay the bills with this guitar We'll have it good We'll have the life we knew we would My word is good

Hey there, Delilah I've got so much left to say If every simple song I wrote to you Would take your breath away I'd write it all Even more in love with me, you'd fall We'd have it all

Oh, it's what you do to me Oh, it's what you do to me (2x)

A thousand miles seems pretty far But they've got planes and trains and cars I'd walk to you if I had no other way Our friends would all make fun of us And we'll just laugh along because we know That none of them have felt this way Delilah, I can promise you That by the time we get through The world will never ever be the same And you're to blame

Hey there, Delilah You be good and don't you miss me Two more years and you'll be done with school And I'll be makin' history like I do You'll know it's all because of you We can do whatever we want to Hey there, Delilah; here's to you, This one’s for you

Oh, it's what you do to me Oh, it's what you do to me (2x) What you do to me

#carlos sainz #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz smut #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 smut #f1 #smut

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