#my motivation was very slim

[venbetta]

Freaky Friday AU

Chapter 3, Part 4 (short)

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[hulloitsdani]

Nothing like motiving myself to practice drawing kisses from reference by making the final results feature my FEH girlies.

[arolesbianism]

Hm. I am getting the distinct feeling that either revanced broke or some apps are doing smth real shitty

[maraschinotopped]

um. kibry ↑

[snghnlvr]

hope they caught us. / sim jaeyun

jake x fem reader

synopsis: you knew that an academic girl like you shouldn’t be involved with a mischievous boy like jake, but both of you hide it well…right?

includes: 3.5k words | SUGGESTIVE | fluff too to balance it out lol | jake being a hot mischievous boy next door | but he’s smart! we love a hot, smart guy who thrives attention for y/n | jake’s hand placements⁉️ | y/n is shy but jake likes that | smooth talker jake yessir | LIP PIERCING JAKE !!

extra: hey bffs i’m back from my own grave 👯‍♀️ i lost motivation for a moment but it’s fine, ill try to post more~ | i’ve watched anne with an e so the language here is kind of similar to that style bc i love that fucking show and it inspired me 🤷‍♀️ | enhypen 🔛🔝 | jake has been so fine lately omfg | jake is a fucking simp!!!

likes, comments, and reposts are very much appreciated <3

[below the cut]

“j-jake-“ you pulled away from his grasp, heaving for air after that short yet everlasting kiss both of you shared secretly.

“you know we can’t be seen together.” as your flushed cheeks were on display in front of him, despise all of it, your mind was full of worries and anxiety of being caught by one of your family members or risking into a more intense situation in your bedroom.

“god, you’re so pretty whenever i look at you.” you scrunched your nose at your boyfriend’s compliment as he had a small smug smirk from your shy, silent reaction. you quickly turned your head towards the door, eyeing the hallway like a hawk to check if there was anyone near by and to your fortune, you can still hear the laughter and voices from the adults downstairs. you felt relieved, sighing softly.

your pondering thoughts became interrupted when you felt jake’s hand slither around your waist and pull you back again closer to him. you gasped, having both of your palms being in placed of his chest. he raised an eyebrow as you were taken aback from his gesture that was normal for him to do.

you were a blushing mess, however jake was smiling like a trickster- not giving a damn about what he’s doing to you, rather amused. you stared at him, observing how obnoxiously handsome he is with his hair being slightly disheveled up from your hands a few seconds ago, his hooded eyes gazing to yours and his lips being stained from your favorite shade of red from forbidden exchange that was yet mutual. the sight was scandalous but breathtaking.

you wanted to stare at him for hours, like a painting from a museum, trying to analyze every beautiful feature that earth has offered.

as the moonlight reflected your bodies from your small window, jake felt a breeze from it. the window’s open a tad bit. he sat down on the little space your window offered for sitting. he admired your wavy locks being swayed by the night air and your crimson cheeks being glowed from the radiance of the moon.

both of you smiled in delight, contented with each other’s presences.

jake. sim jake. adventurous yet devilish. elegant yet charming. sincere yet … complicated to deal with.

as you met the rebellious individual, you had no intentions of befriending jake. you didn’t like his trickster behavior in front of his friends, spreading unhumorous jokes, say the meanest things about teachers and most of all having an egotistical mind that one cannot top.

especially jake, for he is not only annoyingly attractive but naturally intelligent in his studies. maybe that’s why you didn’t entirely hate his guts.

your parents warned you about jake ever since he became not only your new classmate but your new neighbor. how innocent looks can cover their sinful stunts.

the way he showed himself to you at a family dinner at your place, he wore all black clothings including black ripped jeans along with multiple rings on his slim fingers and a lip piercing being proudly displayed on the right side of his face. in spite of it, you were surprised how someone your age can look daunting to look at. it somehow concerned your parents how one can allow their child to have piercings.

you would rather be the opposite. your closet would be filled with soft pastel colors. you have two piercings - the lobes. the ones where you would get at a young age and you never recall as you grow older but yet looking at jake’s, you thrived the curiosity of one.

but somehow, it ease your parents’ tension against him when he became a smooth talker and how he was gonna major engineering in college. you gawked at him, comparing how you were gonna take pre-med in college. just wondering how smart can he be?

and of course, as a shy girl you would always stray away in making new friends as if you wanted to be friends with jake. at a family gathering, you were the first one finished with your meal and went upstairs to do your unfinished homework. as a result, jake’s parents admired you for your hard work and dedication, wishing that their son can do the same instead of partying and socializing. not that there’s something wrong with having an extroverted personality, but something to prioritize with studies.

perhaps you did do it on purpose for the sake of your ego against jake and to maintain a good reputation as a daughter in your family.

unlucky enough, jake caught your act rather quickly. he would always scan you whenever you would converse with someone, how your lovely smile would appear, your glowy brown eyes shining under the gleaming light, how he had noticed you have small dimples on both sides of your cheek if your lips curved, how you scrunch your face when you receive a compliment, and your hair look looking smooth. he wonders what it’s like to touch it with his fingers and smell the scent that your hair obtains. there’s many more observations jake silently took note of.

all of his thoughts are genuine. about you. everything he thought about you are genuine.

he noticed whenever you would quickly glance at him and immediately look down at your plate as if you were scared. you would nibble your bottom lip and fiddle with your fingers on your lap whenever the adults mentioned jake to you.

needlessly to say as he took interest upon your first impression, he wanted you to be on his mind as well. in a way that makes him be stuck in your head for days and let curiosity rise to know him better.

the first step in his plan, to offer you to be his tutor. it surprised his parents, amazed at seeing a drastic change in their son after being in your house for one night. although he might in a higher level than you are, he wanted to find a way to know you better.

the night he was supposed to be partying with his friends, it was with books and you.

it was awkward. you felt awkward. your mind had awkward thoughts. the two of you in your room together in the midday of an autumn day. although your window was closed, your body was cold as you were cuddling yourself with a fluffy blanket of yours while sitting down.

next to you was jake, his uniform was a bit crumpled and his tie loosen up a bit after saying, “hope you don’t mind.” to you.

you noticed how his hair was a bit out of place, having the urge to fix it as the perfectionist you are.

however, despite looking tired from his classes, he seemed curiosity and his eyes would sparkle whenever something in your room caught his eye. like noticing your piano medals spread across in a shelf or picture you’ve kept when you were in art class in second grade pinned in your walls.

“so… what subject are you struggling with?” you were the first to break the awkward silence, eyes glancing at the emptiness of your desk table hoping that it would be filled with a textbook of any subject.

“statistics.” jake replied after, gulping in nervousness to make any wrong move on you. you raised an eyebrow.

“oh!” you straightened yourself in your chair, making your blanket slowly fall down. your shoulders from your cami top were exposed to jake, making him take into admiration of your beauty from your single lamp open.

you looked at jake. “the test scores were given back today right? can i see your test score so i can have an idea in what to teach you?” you smiled at jake as a reassurance message.

jake’s eyes widened a bit, taken aback from your sudden request. you noticed the moment of silence, thinking that jake is embarrassed to show you but jake was thinking of something else. he didn’t except nor imagine this scenario taking place. it was something that might make you mad.

“it’s okay, i’m here to teach you not to make fun of you, you can be honest with me.” you nodded at jake, seeing him zip his back bag open behind him. he scooted his chair closer to you.

now you were taken aback from the sudden gesture that he wasn’t even fazed. his eyes were glued onto his folder but your eyes were glued onto his side profile. under the luminous light, it complimented his features well that you questioned how handsome can this boy get?

“whatever you do, please don’t get mad.” he spoke in a low tone. you distracted yourself with another thoughts, nodding quickly so you wouldn’t get caught doing the unforgiven, staring.

you gawked once he opened his folder, with the numbers written in red marker. a big fat 100 smacks you on the face.

“w-what..” you were in disbelief at what you were saying. you were confused as to why he needed tutoring when he got a perfect score. you studied so hard he night before the exam to get a passing grade of 100, but it only resulted in an 80. even worse, jake’s grade wasn’t curved.

it made you be in a lost of thoughts as you glanced at jake. you noticed how his shoulders crouching down and avoiding eye contact like a guilty kid caught in the act.

maybe he can be your tutor instead which is humiliating to accept.

“you lied?” jake whined mentally at how devastated you sound. he was trying to quickly find a way to defend himself but what would he say instead of, i just wanted to know you better? sounds like a psychopath.

his lips trembled, “i-i .. okay look y/n..” you softened when you said your name with such delicacy and softness that it slowly made you forget being disappointed at him. “i just wanted to know you better, not as a neighbor but perhaps a friend since we will be often seeing each other a lot.. and i couldn’t find a way to approach to you without being weird..”

jake rambled with his words, slowly breathing in a fast pace after his chest was relieved from all of the stress he endured of defending himself. he looked at you with sad eyes, knowing that he disappointed you, that you probably never want to ever see him again and how you will snitch to him to your parents and they will forbid you to ever go near him again. but instead of crying your heart out and running away as he imagined, you instead chuckled. you were amused at his creative idea that you wonder how can he have such an idea like this one?

“you wanted to know me better?” you asked again, appreciating the thought that he wanted to be your friend but in an unusual way.

“yeah..” jake lowered his shoulder, whispering his reply to you. he looked at you chuckling at him.

“we can be friends jake, you didn’t have to do all of this.” you slightly rubbed your eye with your index finger, tired of giggling from jake. “i know.. i guess i was scared that i might look like a weird guy to you.” he embarrassingly scratched the back of his hair with his hand. his hair bounced against his flustered head.

“well you seem weird from the first impression but other than that, you seem harmless.. i hope.” you scrunched your nose unconsciously, making jake’s heart fluttered from the dimples appearing on your face whenever you do it.

the more days spent with jake under the act of “tutoring him”, it was him tutoring you instead since he told you that he enjoyed math and physics.

you thought he was a crazy scientist planning to ban away society from earth but the more time you witnessed him enjoy doing homework, you couldn’t help but think about him from time to time in appreciation that there’s someone who’s sincere as him. effortless and a natural.

during those moments, he did nothing but make you laugh and somehow make your heart flutter from his doings. it influenced your heart to be a mess. moments such as pulling your back bag from behind so there’s less weight and it’s lighter to walk with it while going home together from school, raise your blanket higher whenever it lowered from your body whenever both of you studied, and making your body electrocuted from the constant coincidental touches both of you share unknowingly.

although there would be times where jake pulled out his witty jokes and random comments to gravitate your focus onto him, he never forced anything onto you. he keeps his boundaries on alert and respected your feelings.

for instance, if he tried to make a conversation with you while you were studying and you tell him to be quiet, he would. immediately. he would slide the chair away from you, slightly sulking and try to find ways to occupy his bored self.

playing games on his phone is one thing but another would be exploring your room. jake found your art journal from middle school while snooping your drawers next to your bed.

or that one time he unfortunately came across your polka dot underwear lying freely on the floor when he eagerly and abruptly came upstairs after school as you tried beating him first to your room after screaming that you didn’t clean your room.

yeah that was the first time you yelled at him.

besides that, there would be times where you found jake adorable such as trying not to sleep whenever both of you were alone in one of each other’s room, whining in how a certain teacher sucks at their teaching job, and the crazy story times he experienced in his life. it made you realize how such a human can have so much impact in your life in less than a year?

nevertheless, you had to avoid each other at school to not let any rumours about the two of you knowing each other be spread across. jake completely understood as you didn’t want any drama from occurring in your final year of high school. there would be times where the both of you spared glances and smile at each other, missing each other’s presences deeply.

there was a moment where both of you laid in jake’s bed after studying, taking a small break before you return home for supper.

“y/n i’ve been thinking..” your heart thumped after hearing jake’s deep voice while closing your eyes. you never heard jake with this tone so it felt new and exciting.

you opened your eyes, turning your head to your right to face him as his stare was focused on the ceiling above him.

“i really like being with you. you made me realize how there’s always good in a bad place. and i really want to continue to be with you…” you sharped a breath when his picky was interlocking with yours.

he finally turned at you and for once you were grateful that he didn’t witness how red your cheeks were becoming. you were become a mess at how sparkly his eyes were and beautiful his lips can be. especially with that piercing of his.

this feeling was brand new to you. you’ve never been close to a boy before as you were merely focused in your education. boys weren’t prioritizing your mind.

“do you like being with me too?” jake asked, softly as if you were gonna be broken glass. he was being fragile in case he will do something wrong to you. he spoke with hesitation.

your mind was filled with memories that you spent with him from the past few months and you can’t but wanting to spend more memories with him.

“of course i do jake. every moment i spent with you, i feel free against the world that my parents created from me. you make me feel like it’s okay to step out of the comfort zone.” you smiled against your lips.

jake soon did the same as you continued to stare at each other with silence, having a significant spark in each other’s hearts for the first time.

“can i court you then?” jake’s hand slowly creep to yours, softly grasping it. you looked down, your heart pounding as if it was gonna explode from your rib cage.

god you never felt more in love than before. “i would like that jake..” you sheepishly smiled, letting go of his grasp to hide your shy smile but jake didn’t allow that.

jake slowly took the hand that was covering your beautiful smile, taking his hand with it. you were silent, eyeing his every action as jake kept staring at you.

your fingers were lingering the cold metal against his lips and it made your body shivered.

it was like he was having a different emotion in his eyes that you couldn’t identify but you felt safe when you were with him.

jake pecked your palm and held it against his cheek. he closed his eyes, processing the fact that you’re now his and he’s yours.

and the fact that you have to hide it from your parents for now.

and here you are currently, “a penny for your thoughts pretty girl?” jake swept a strain of hair behind your ear. you shook your head, lowering your head in his neck to hide your flushed cheeks.

you would always do this whenever you were feeling bashful from jake’s bold behavior and he loved it. that he was the only boy that made you be like this.

“it’s just you’re so beautiful when you look like that..” you whispered against his neck. jake raised both of his eyebrows, surprise at the sudden change in your usual personality. the position you were in, where jake was sitting down and you were standing above him.

his legs being comfortably spread out so each of his leg is next to yours it made you be in a pit of nervousness and jake took note of it. jake always love how expressive you are with your own eyes as if it was telling a story if your mouth goes mute upon seeing his figure wherever, whenever.

seeing him below you caused a spark in your heart as his eyes stared at you with devotion and attentiveness. jake noticed how your eyes changed when you kept staring at him with a specific look. a look that makes him even more whipped for you.

“really?” jake’s hands slowly crept towards your hips, lightly massaging it before he pulled you closer to him, causing you stumble lightly and sit on his lap thanks to jake’s strength in holding you still. your legs straddled his each side of his hip.

you looked down, realizing the situation you were in but jake kept holding his signature smirk as he was loving your reaction. he kept staring at you, swallowing the beauty you are in front of him. he didn’t want to get you go, thinking you are a dedicate feather ready to disappear if let go.

“well uhm,” you scoffed lightly, keeping a wide grin to disguise the apprehension from your face. as you were at a loss of words - not having a quick way to reply to jake, he took it as an opportunity to steal a kiss from your soft lips.

the sound echoed in your head, making your heart flutter listening to it. you closed your eyes again when jake stole another one.

you looked at him, filled with fond and passion. the silence aura, it spoke louder than words of how much you two love it each other.

you lightly placed your hand against jake’s resting on your hip comfortably with a small smile on your lips. you rubbed his fingers lightly.

“i love you.” as fragile as you sounded whispering the truth spilled from your lips, your heart never felt any less warmer with any other guy besides your secret boyfriend in front of you.

jake’s other hand, cradled your jaw. his thumb was slowly rubbing your cheek as his thoughts were filled of the words “i love you” multiple times. he swore he was gonna be a psychopath with you.

he didn’t say, but you felt it.

“i love you too my y/n.” both of your lips collided with a deep kiss after jake exchanged his romantic confession to you.

“y/n!” you immediately pulled out of the kiss, mentally whining that it ended too quick due to your mother calling you.

“yes?” you yelled back back as jake didn’t stop kissing you. he continued showcasing his love for you when his lips touched your neck, having little pecks as he was attached from your perfume scent you sprayed on before jake’s parents arrived to your home.

you were squirming on his lap as his lips kept going places on your neck. the sounds of his lips touching your skin made your head be distracted from your mother’s voice.

you tried stopping jake, pushing your palms against his chest to pull him off but jake insisted, grabbing both of your wrists with his one hand. you felt jake’s smirk onto your neck as you felt the tip of his tongue on your hot skin, making you gasp.

“jake’s parents are going home now! please send jake downstairs.” your mother yelled out. you sighed after you replied with okay to her, ignoring your heart trying to escape from your ribcage.

“jake..” you called him before he gets distracted with his desirable thoughts of wanting to continue in kissing you. you ruffled his hair to awake his senses but he has beat you to it.

“what a shame..” he scrunched his nose. “i’ll go now, i’ll definitely miss you.” jake pressed his lips one last time to your cheek before you removed yourself from him to get his things.

jake grabbed his black, round glasses from your table and the flannel he tossed in your bed the moment he entered to your room.

this time, you were observing your boyfriend picking up his possession, especially with the gray sweatpants and a white plain tank top. simple yet still handsome in every way and form. you can’t believe that jake is yours.

before jake left, his hand wrapped around your door knob indicating his hesitation. “hm?” you hummed in confusion when you turned your head to see jake stand still. you were curious of what was holding him back.

“i’ll be at your window in 10 minutes.” jake looked back. his eyes were gazing your figure in your bed. you looked up at him and his heart still flutters just as he first saw you.

you taken aback with this new gesture of his that you didn’t know what to say. “i-ill see you then.” you let out a smile. jake smiled back before quickly heading downstairs. you heard the mixture of his voice and you the adults downstairs as you fell sideways in your bed, making your head bounce on your pillow.

with his mischievous and brave acts with you, you’re certain that one day both of you will be caught but you never objected the idea of doing so.

taglist ; @iraisswiftie @s00buwu

[pxuvalentinx]

tags: aventurine x fem reader, nsfw, f!ngering, tiny degradation, fake empathy, edging, hand fetish‼️

a/n: i’m so sorry omgg, i’ve been so busy and tbh also not really motivated to finish any of my drafts. but to feed my starved children (you all) i cooked up some quick aven smut (in the span of 20 minutes). i got one more aven fic in my drafts but it’s kinda a fail ngl, it’s basically the pt2 to the aventurine gunplay thingie i wrote. so do let me know if you’d like to read that😭😭 as always, reqs are open🫶

Aventurine, one of the most talented men when it came to coin tricks. He’d always try to impress you with them, showing you how easily the coin would move from left to right and right to left, slipping so smoothly in between his gloved fingers. And you had to admit, it was indeed very impressive. You tried it once or twice, but without success. Aventurine would always just grin at you, talking about how your little hands just aren’t as talented as his. It would make you slightly pout, asking him to teach you, but he would just turn it down, saying he’d teach you another time.

You loved his hands anyway, slim and long fingers, short nails and a soft palm — whenever he wasn’t wearing those gloves at least. If he was, rings would decorate his hands even more, the gold shining and sparkling as he pushed your hips down. His fingers were hidden in your cunt, curling and thrusting. He didn’t even take off his glove before practically shoving his hand inside you, the fabric feeling rough and soft at the same time, creating a whole new sensation.

He’d always comment on how wet your pussy is, on how nicely it squeezes around his fingers, on how stupidly easy you go dumb only from his hand. Aventurine’s thumb was on your clit, pressing down on it whenever his fingers thrusted into you. The poor people in the hotel room next to you, having to hear your stupid cries and pleas for mercy all night long, all because Aventurine was just a little too talented with his hands.

He fucking loved bringing you to the edge just to deny you again, showing fake empathy. “Poor thing..Let’s try again, shall we?” His pants felt way too tight at this exact moment, watching you beg and beg and beg, while your cunt ruins his gloves and soaks even the skin underneath.

Eventually he would let you cum. Eventually he’d finally stop teasing you so much, and move his fingers in scissoring motions one last time before feeling you explode all over his hand. His other hand was intertwined with yours, his thumb rubbing circular motions over the back of your hand, while the other just abused your insides even further.

How silly that it all started with a little:”What other tricks do you have in store?”

[ccrites]

chokehold

listen, I've had this idea in my wips for a while (since the begnining of the year actually) and the fat reader worms have been wiggling in third gear with all the awesome stuff early ( @391780 ) has been putting out lately. So have 6.4k words of Soap being an absolute pussy eating freak but you know you love him

(also on ao3 if you prefer the formatting there, or if you want to drop a kudo)

.

The second the doors swing back closed behind you, you start feeling the scratchy feeling of doubt at the back of your throat.

It was predictable, really.

A small gym in a small town, heads turn when the hinges creak, not because they’re staring at you specifically, but because it’s a reflex.

Or at least, that’s what you tell yourself to keep the scratchy feeling from turning sour in your mouth. Or make you throw up from embarrassment.

Perhaps your New Year’s resolution should’ve been to start on a home gym type of situation. Buy yourself some girly weights, a mat, and some sort of stepping device, and do those easy exercises every slim, pretty, high-ponytailed YouTube instructor seemed to preconize people out of shape do. Like a hamster on a wheel inside their cage. A rat chasing its own tail, maybe.

No, you promised yourself no more fake promises. Perhaps the money spent on the gym membership (stupid fucking New Year’s promotion) would motivate you to use it, lest it’s just money down the drain. 

You wore the stretchiest, thickest pair of black leggings you owned, hoping no one would see the terrible shape of your underwear through it. On the opposite spectrum of things, you knew the largest hoodie you owned would smother you and make you boil with sweat, so you chose the next best thing: the widest black t-shirt you owned. It was definitely not black enough, the dye faded into a dark gray from use over the years, but it was the only thing that camouflaged your body enough from the others’ sight. God forbid they imagine what your body actually looks like underneath.

The heads pretty quickly turned back around as you started walking towards the empty treadmills. It couldn’t have been more than a second, but the combined weight of at least a dozen pairs of scrutinizing eyes would’ve been enough to make you turn on your heels and back to your car, fuck the membership price.

At the very least, you could convince yourself that walking in place (no better than a hamster on its wheel but oh well) would be enough to get you started. Baby steps, and all.

It doesn’t take long for you to realize the treadmill fucking sucks. Why would anyone suggest looking at a parking lot while suffering instead of the pretty scenery of a park or forest (while also suffering, but still).

The timer you’d set for the warm-up (ten minutes, just like the pretty blonde coach suggested!) crawls by way too slowly for your taste. You’d be all but whooping with joy when it beeps if you weren’t so out of breath and conscious of a gaze on you.

You’d seen him as soon as you walked in.

Between figures of balding men trying to get rid of their beer gut with abs, two thin women whispering to themselves in a corner while trying to look inconspicuous, and a few other, completely average-looking men and women, there he stands, eyes meeting yours in the mirror as he deadlifts an impressive amount of black plates.

He immediately looks straight ahead, correcting his stance, as if there were anything to be corrected, in your unathletic opinion. The muscles in his arms bulge even through the thin, grey hoodie, and the ones in his legs coil tight as the weight is lifted off the ground in a slow, controlled motion. Not even a grunt escapes his lips, at least no one you could hear from where you stood, completely mesmerized.

There was always something almost unappealing about overly muscled men. Their wife’s not feedin’ ‘em enough, your granny would grumble when passing by the rows of magazines at the checkout of the supermarket. 

Yet this man.

Yeah, he was muscled. But in a way, he looked… almost normal. Like he was built for strength, not necessarily vanity. Each bend of his legs, each twist of his arms…

You’d swoon if you hadn’t lowered your standards so low he’d trip on them. Accepted it a long time ago. Fats belong with fats, thins with thins, and if there’s a thin with a fat, either one’s getting fattened up, or the other’s getting dumped. It’s a self-fulfilling prophecy, and one you’d rather not be a part of.

You walk with shaky legs to the water dispenser, then get ready to grab the second to lightest weights to try some bicep curls.

You try to remember the positioning from the videos. Rotate in… or out? Should the wrists be like this? You go through ten repetitions on each side, before you think that you should’ve gone for the abs straight away. God knows there’s fat to burn there, and that the flab under your arms can wait.

You turn back from the rack and walk straight into a wall.

No, a chest.

Fuck.

“Sorry there, miss,” says a deep voice. You detect some sort of accent, unable to quite place it right away.

Your eyes run up, instinctively stopping for a second at chest level (holy heavens that’s a Chest with a capital C if you’ve ever seen one) before finally meeting that same pair of eyes you met a few minutes ago, through the mirror.

Double fuck.

“S-sorry, it’s me, wasn’t watching,” you stammer out, gesturing to the weights in a panicked way. “Just, y’know, switching exercises,” you sputter with a nervous laugh, like it was a completely normal thing to switch exercises after one rep.

He chuckles, and you really need to start planning your escape, because holy shit the way his pectorals rise and fall as his chest puffs up is getting a bit too much for your poor little humiliated self to handle, but he doesn’t let you as he speaks in a soft tone.

“I’m getting arms aren’t really your thing, eh?” he asks, not unkindly. Gosh, did it have to be a Scottish accent?

You can’t meet his eyes, they’re too blue, too piercing for your liking. “To be fair I don’t know what’s my thing yet, I’m just starting out, y’know?” you shift your weight on your legs, conscious of the size difference, and not in the way you wanted to be. Your neck is very warm all of a sudden.

He laughs again, like it’s the funniest thing in the world, and you almost want the floor to open up and swallow you whole, but the words that come out of his mouth are completely unexpected.

“Figured! A girl with thighs like yours, I’m sure you can deadlift more than me with just a lil’ training. I’m Johnny, by the way,” he adds in passing, as if offering his name is the least of his concerns. “You ever got someone to train you?”

You’re entirely unsure if you’re dreaming or not. Did this Scottish hunk of muscle really just offer to be your personal trainer?

“Never - uh… lifted anything, I guess. Just when moving, my couch and bed and all, but I had a friend help me.” You definitely feel like you’re oversharing and you’re struggling to ignore the weight of the gaze of the two thin women, burning through you as they whisper among themselves, when you realize you hadn't answered the second part. “Oh and, uh– no. I’ve never… trained. Been trained. It’s my first time in a gym since- a while. I don’t want to bother you.”

You finally look up at him, and you’re unable to read his expression. There’s a sort of curiosity, a fascination, that blends fast into a wide-eyed joy that’s so open, so sincere that it makes your head spin as he gently but firmly grabs your wrist and pulls you where his bar stands on the thick mat, ignoring your sputtering protests. “Not a bother at all, lass!” He lets go of you as he bends down and effortlessly racks the barbell, starting to remove plates as he continues. “We can start by measuring your max lift, then the one where you can easily do three reps, then we’ll hike it up till failure, so I can calculate your starting training weight!” he rambles on excitedly. You nervously shift on your feet, conscious of more curious gazes on you, but then he’s back in your bubble, pulling your attention towards him like a magnet.

His smile is like a blazing sun, and you don’t have the heart to tell him to prepare for disappointment.

He’s infinitely patient as he shows you how to place your feet, and the angle of your hips (oh, how you feel your knee weaken at the feel of his light tough through the leggings, nothing short of electrifying, despite being perfectly friendly), the hold on the bar. It’s all a blur till you find yourself bent over in front of him, looking in the mirror at your position and trying not to feel conscious of the way he’s placed behind you. Or let your mind wander in inappropriate places.

“Whenever yer ready, hen.”

You brace yourself, close your eyes for a brief second, wondering how the hell you’d landed on this planet, then breathe in, open your eyes-

The weight is in your hands. Not on the floor. You’re holding it.

You almost drop it when he cheers behind you, warm palms rubbing down from your shoulders to your elbows and back up. “Easy! I told you you’d be a natural! ‘S all in the legs and you’ve got awesome legs, bonnie! Let’s add twenty more.”

It’s a blur of racking and de-racking and lifting once and setting back, and redoing it again and again. You’re out of breath, sweating like a sinner in church, but you’re smiling along with him, finding yourself giving him double high fives, and doing small, excited jumps.

“Next one’s exactly my weight, if y’can lift that, I’ll be losing my bloody mind! D’you realize how well yer doin’ for a first-timer?” He says as he bends next to you, adjusting the bar for the next set of weights. With a wipe of his forearm over his forehead, he crouches slightly down, placing his head right above your shoulder and looking your reflection in the mirror straight in the eyes with a conspiratory grin. “Swear to God, if ye can lift it off the ground, I’m buying you the most expensive drink at the bar next door!” he says, grin blending into a blinding smile, too genuine for your own good.

He’s just friendly, just friendly, just friendly, you say to yourself like a mantra as you position yourself. He stands again to his full height behind you, hands ready under the bar, a safenet.

Deep breath in– hold it…

Slowly but surely, you lift the weight off the floor, your ears ringing from the effort. You see his lips move as he cheers you on, but the blood pumping in your eardrums makes it impossible to hear him. Suddenly, the weight is back on the ground and your feet are off the floor as you’re lifted in a tight embrace and spun around like you weigh nothing.

You yelp and flail but he’s holding you tight, face pressed smack-dab in the middle of your chest, between your tits, rumbling praises about your prowess while you’re trying to figure out whether this can be something that your brain is capable of summoning as a dream.

“Put me down, Johnny, oh my God, put me down!”

He thankfully complies but not before squeezing your ass tighter, and suddenly nothing feels real anymore.

“Jesus, I knew ye were perfect,” he says, pulling back reluctantly to rerack the bar and put back the weights. “I cannot wait to properly start training ye’ tomorrow, but for now, I have a promise ta’ keep, and, uh, let’s just say I wouldn’t mind using those strong thighs as earmuffs with this freezin’ weather. On the way back from the bar, what d’ya say?” he adds, wiggling his eyebrows with a crooked smile that lets you know he’s joking around. (Is he?)

You laugh with him and for a second, you forget what you were here for.

+++

The way to the bar is short. It was just a block away (Good for business, he jokes), but the conversation with Johnny made time really fly by. 

He seems genuinely glad when you tell him you’d decided to head to the gym not just as a New Year’s resolution, but trying to simply become a better you. There’s no condescendence, no talking down, no (God forbid) pity, just an overall nice interaction the whole time. He tells you about being on leave as a soldier (Medical leave, he specifies, a fucked up knee can work in a gym, but it’s a different story out in the field), you tell him about your studies and how that led into a “big girl” job that left you no time for yourself.

“But I’ve always been a big girl,” you feel the need to justify. “Just… gotten bigger as I stopped finding time to move. The desk and the laptop are pretty stationary,” you joke, still trying to make sense of why a man like him (broad, and tall, and strong, and… gosh, just perfect-looking) would even deign to accept being seen with you.

(It’s not a date, you dumbass)

“I happen to like big girls,” is what you don’t expect him to say.

Wait, what?

His blue eyes glue you to your seat, and you respond dumbly. “What?”

“I mean, why do you think I’d offer to train you?” he continues, placing his hand, big and warm over your thigh. It’s squished as you sit, wide and flattened in your seat, yet his hand covers a good amount, almost covering the whole width.

Your brain is short-circuiting but you have to answer something.

“Out of– uh… out of niceness?” you stammer out, feeling your insecurities climb back out of the hole they’d been sleeping in all this time, making you shrink even more, trying to cover yourself as if he didn’t see right through you with that piercing gaze. “To feel good seeing you be the reason I lose weight?”

He chuckles, squeezing your thigh as his head hangs down, almost as if to hide the smile that spreads on his lips.

“Strength training doesn’t work like that, bonnie.” He looks back up, and his eyes are blue, and wide, and so pretty, that you can’t find anything to argue back. “Ye’ think building glutes underneath that fat arse does anything but make it bigger?” He shifts, inching closer as he licks his lips and drops his voice lower. “Ye’ think growing your quads will make this,” he gives an even firmer squeeze, wiggling the fat back and forth, and you tense under his grip, but he’s got you pinned down, “any less wide and soft?”

He presses closer, and the booth has no escape room, you’re practically squeezed into the corner as he pushes his body against yours, bending to whisper lowly in the crook of your neck.

“I did not joke when I said I want yer pretty thighs wrapped tight around my head.”

You can’t be blamed when you don’t remember how you ended up in the back of a cab, Johnny barely taking the time to bark an address to the poor driver and throw fifty quid on the front seat before kissing you absolutely senseless, shamelessly groping your tits with a hand and wrapping the other around your thigh, squeezing you close.

You should probably think more about going home with basically a stranger, no matter how hot, but when he presses his entire palm against your cunt, cupping it over the quickly dampening pair of leggings that didn’t seem so thick anymore, you can’t think at all. He swallows your quiet moans, and hums contently against your lips, taking each gasp for air as an invitation to slither his tongue into your mouth. God, you’d forgotten what a good makeout session was like, and you can’t even find it in you to be embarrassed when you see the cabbie’s eyes in the rearview mirror, instantly looking away when you see him staring. 

Johnny doesn’t seem to mind either, and when he notices you looking in the front again and again, he crowds you against the door behind the driver with a huff, half-climbing over you until his knee is pressed against your core, and the only thing in your field of vision is him.

“Johnny,” you try to say, but it’s getting hard to think, with the way you’re being squeezed in a corner, this hunk of a man of pure muscle pressing against you like a weighted blanket, kissing you like you were a drop of water in the desert and he was a parched man drinking you for his salvation. You feel his excitement pressed against your thigh, and it gives you enough lucidity to try again. “Johnny,” you gasp out again, “aren’t we going a little fast?”

He laughs instead, choosing to focus on the side of your mouth, pressing fervent little kisses down your neck before starting to suckle the delicate skin over where your clavicle is. “I can go as slow as you’d like, bun.” He takes the spot an inch next to the previous one into his mouth and sucks again, this time more forcefully, marking you, and oh God you’re going to have to conceal it before work tomorrow, unless you can find a turtleneck to wear–

The cab driver clears his throat, and you notice that the car is stopped in front of a small apartment complex. Johnny says a cordial thanks as he pulls you out of the car and throws another twenty on the backseat, before wrapping his arm around your shoulders and taking all of the thinking out of the equation as he walks you to the entry.

His flat is pretty well furnished, all things considered, but he doesn’t give you enough time to observe the deco as he presses you against the door and slides his hand under your leggings.

“Got me starin’ at that ass the second you walked in, best fuckin’ thing I’ve seen in months, d’ye realize that, bonnie?” he breathes out against your ear as his entire palm cups your sex, and you can only whine as you press your forehead into the crook of his neck. “And by how wet this pussy is, I think you liked starin’ at me, too.”

“You are–” you say, but he curls his middle finger in, spreading your lips and spreading the wetness to your clit, making you choke on your words, “-very nice to stare at.”

“Yeah?” you hear the grin in his voice.

“Mmhm,” you nod, as he keeps the back and forth of his finger, never dipping in too far, just keeping you hungry for more.

“Then how’d ye like to stare down at me as I taste this wet cunt of yours?” he purrs in your ear as he stops moving completely, letting the words process.

Brain.exe has stopped functioning. 

Had you ever had a boyfriend willing to speak filth like that to you when you were down to do the deed, maybe you would’ve gotten enough practice to know what to answer something sensible and intelligible to that, but as it stands, all you can muster is a very dumb-sounding “Huh?” as you stare back at him.

And that, apparently, is the funniest thing in the world to him, because he dips his head down and laughs, almost like a boyish giggle. Not only does that not stop him from kneeling in front of you, but it also somehow gives him more confidence to keep talking like that.

“How about you look down into my eyes as I eat out your pretty little pussy and make you come around my tongue, how’s that sound?” His baby blues bear no trace of maliciousness, no trace of a joke, as his fingers hook around the waistband and trace it around your stomach. You have to make a very conscious effort not to suck it in immediately in preparation for the letdown, but he doesn’t pull them down yet, only moving his hand alongside the edge. Your silence as you try to process what is happening only seems to spur him on instead. “In fact, how about you close your eyes, I close mine, and you hold my head close as I devour you, would you let me do that, pretty girl?”

“I’m not-” you can’t think of any way to properly let him down, not when he looks up with such pleading eyes, so the words stumble out gracelessly. “I’m sweaty, you don’t wanna–”

But he interrupts as he pulls your leg closer by gripping your thigh and squishing it against his cheek “But I do.” He inhales deeply, and your own breath shakes at the sight of how blissed out he already looks. “God, I want it. Let me have this.”

A voice somewhere inside yells at you that this has to be some sort of weird fetish, and that he most certainly won’t be having the same aura of desperation around him tomorrow, when post-coital rationale shows up and he sees your body past the veil of lust, but for now, you think that getting some with Johnny cannot be that bad compared to any one of your past encounters. Might as well enjoy it when you still can.

You wrap your hand around the one he still has around your waistband, and see his face positively light up as you softly caress his cheek.

In the end, you’re the one that pleads.

“Johnny, please.”

Your pants are off you and your leg is over his shoulder before you realize what is happening.

The feel of his warm tongue against your slit makes any thought, any doubt, any fear positively vanish, and the content sigh that he lets out as he licks at you is the same sigh as finally removing a bra at the end of a long day, it’s the sigh of laying down carelessly onto a soft bed after standing up for hours, it’s the sigh of the first bite of the best meal a man has after starving for weeks.

It should be awkward the way his arm wraps around your thigh and sinks into the softness of your stomach, using it to pin you up as he uses his other hand to spread you out enough for him to work his jaw the same way he did when he was making out with you in the car… Yet it’s not. It’s natural, the way his hand squeezes you as he licks, and sucks, and kisses around your pussy, unhurried yet passionate, languidly but firmly, pressing his tongue in, licking around your lips, and maddeningly avoiding the place you wanted him to touch most.

“Johnny,” you moan as he grazes his teeth around your sensitive nub in response. You almost buck out of his hold, but he’s firmly keeping you in place. “Please, don’t tease.”

He hums in response and dives back in, eyes fluttering closed as he ignores your whines. Every time his tongue or lips graze your clit, he works his mouth the opposite way, holding your thigh harder and pressing his palm up as he counters your hip movements with a clever swipe of the tongue. It’s absolutely maddening. “Johnny, please!”

He chuckles as he pulls back, an obscene string of spit lengthening as he pulls back, only breaking when he runs his tongue against his reddened, swollen lips. “Thought ye’ wanted me ta’ go slow, bun.” His eyes sparkle with challenge, but you can also discern a veil of unhidden desperation, of waiting for you to give the go-ahead for him to let loose.

“I’m fine with faster–” you start, but the words dissolve into a barely restrained moan as he hikes your leg up more, getting you closer to him, and immediately singling onto your neglected clit.

His forehead rests onto your belly now, and if you had more than two functioning neurons you’d wonder how he is that he’s breathing, but his hums and moans let you know that he’s perfectly content burrowing his nose in your pussy, nudging at your clit with the tip of it as he licks you with all the dedication you’ve never been shown from a man of his caliber.

He builds it up, and soothes it down, knowing exactly when to put more pressure, or when to teasingly swirl his tongue around your entrance, or to lave broad strokes of his tongue, so much so that the knee that’s not hooked over his shoulder almost gives out on a particularly forceful suck of your clit.

“Easy there,” he groans almost petulantly, as if you’re interrupting him. “Can’t have you fallin’ over when I’m not done wit’ ye.”

“My legs are gonna give out,” you say honestly, trying to catch your breath and avoid having the perfect man at your feet steal it again. “You’re a bit too good at this.” He grins up at you, “Am I?” and you want to give you a playful swat, but instead decide on carding your fingers through his now disheveled mohawk. “Guess the mess on my face speaks for itself… Shall we take this to the bedroom?”

You throw a glance around the apartment, assessing your options. “Couch is closer.” His smile is blinding. “I like how ye’ think.”

It’s now the second time he surprises you by scooping your legs from under you and picking you up like he couldn’t wait any longer and that carrying you bridal-style was the only way he could think of moving you. You yelp out a protest but he swallows it with another hungry kiss, shamelessly smearing your own wetness over your cheek as he walks you both to the couch.

You sink into the cushions where he places you gently without so much as a grunt of effort, and oh God, there they are, the standards are rising.

You reach over to pull him closer as he straightens up, but he only gives you a peck on the lips in return, like he hadn’t been kissing you sloppily the entire time.

“Come back,” you whine, hoping you can get it done before he comes back to his senses, like they all do, but he just smiles and kneels between your feet, hands pressing your thighs apart. The squelch of your lips parting should be embarrassing were he not looking up at you like you were the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, eyes full of adoration, like a child staring up at the full moon on full display on a clear night’s skies. Maybe you are his moon, his goddess, judging by the lust-clouded look directed at you.

“I did say I was gonna make you come on my face,” he says lowly, the gravel in his voice making you squirm as he places a trail of kisses up your thigh. “And I intend to keep that promise.”

With that, he dives in again, using his forearms to pin your legs open on the couch and his fingers to tease around where his tongue can’t reach. You mewl when you feel his tongue at your entrance, circling it around it briefly before delving in as deep as he could, his right hand stroking your clit rhythmically. The fact that he’s so good at somehow playing all your buttons like a maestro directing an orchestra has you thinking that he must be some sort of womanizer, some freak who does this kind of thing every night, but then his lips wrap around your nub and he gives a firm, long suck, and any restriction that you could’ve conjured up simply vanishes. Your thighs want to close around his head, but you can’t move under the iron grip he has on you.

You fist his hair more forcefully than necessary, and he looks up, wet eyelashes framing his beautiful eyes as he hums in response.

“Please,” you moan, and he hums affirmatively again, closing his eyes to focus on licking and suckling harder. He heard you, he simply doesn’t seem to care. “Johnny.”

“What,” he asks, voice muffled and why is this so hot? 

“I need… I need,” you whine, unable to string the words together, and desperately trying to buck your hips under him, for lack of strength to actually close your thighs how you want to.

That seems to get his attention, and he chuckles, before pulling back with a gentle kiss on your mound. “Guess you’ll have to keep tryin’, pet,” he sussurs, a condescending pat on your thighs before he dives in slower than before.

Oh, the absolute asshole. Now he wants you to work for it?

You think that doing the opposite, relaxing your thighs open and letting him go to town however he wanted would help, but he seems hell-bent on riling you up every once in a while, getting you closer and closer with each lave of his tongue over your poor, overstimulated clit, but never enough to actually push you over the edge.

After what seems like an eternity, and almost, almost starting to think that this was a mistake, halfway ready to let him do this thing before your hip starts to cramp up, you feel a finger nudge at your entrance.

“Fucking finally–” you start, ready to curse him out, but he’s faster than you can think in your blissed-out state, and he slides a second finger alongside the first one, immediately zeroing in on that spot that makes you go cross-eyed and buck under his hold.

“Thassit– there you go, pretty girl,” he murmurs against your clit, and oh, okay, maybe you were closer than you thought, because the rhythmic curl of his fingers doesn’t need to last long before you’re off like an arrow, back arching and thighs squeezing, coming harder than you ever thought was possible. If he were any less skilled at making you completely lose the ability to think, you’d maybe notice that you’d managed to close your thighs almost completely around his head, but he wasn’t, so you don’t, twitching helplessly in the aftershocks of the most wonderful orgasm a man had ever given you.

Limbs that somehow still belong to your body hang uselessly off the side of the couch, and you struggle to catch your breath. You blink lazily, noticing him smugly wipe his face with the back of his hand, his half lidded eyes not any less blissed-out than yours. 

You didn’t believe a man like this ever existed, until now. It aches that this might not be something that would last, so you make grabby hands at him, unable to find the will to speak just yet. 

He laughs softly and gently grabs your arms, kissing from your knuckles slowly up your arm, to the crook of your neck. The patience he has is almost inhuman, as he takes the time to let you regather your senses, matching the marks he made earlier on the other side of your neck. You cup your hand around his head in response, and he smiles at you.

“Ye’ with me, bun?”

“Mmhm.”

“That slow enough fer’ ye’?” He holds himself up, an inch fron your face, and you reach up to kiss him.

“I’m gonna kill you dead,” you mutter against his lips, and he chuckles.

“Let me at least fuck you properly, first,” he whispers, and you notice that he’s long since unbuttoned his pants. You barely get a view of the massive size of him over your belly as he holds himself in his hand, large palm not enough to cover the whole length of him as he strokes himself, angled in such way that his tip rubs against your clit on each downstroke. The word “Please,” is not even halfway out of your mouth when he sinks into you in one swift motion, the rest dissolving into a long, drawn-out moan.

“Fuck-” he grunts, “so tight, cannot believe it.”

He guides one of your legs to wrap around him, keeping it flush against his body with his elbow as his palm grips your ass tightly, the other holding him against the backrest, forearm near your head as he pulls you closer for a sloppy kiss as he starts rolling his hips. You moan into his mouth and he swallows them greedily, leveraging each trust of his hips with a pull with his hand, helping you move in tandem with him, readjusting when your thigh threatens to slip out of his hold. The slaps of his pelvis to yours should sound obscene, his hard muscles hitting against your soft, jiggly skin, but his groans into your mouth are like music to your ears, the fact that he’s vocal about it has you almost reaching your peak again in no time, but he seems to sense it, and slows down immediately.

You try to kiss him harder, but he makes a small noise of protest, muttering something that sounds vaguely like “no, let me, let me just–” and you want to ask what he wants to do, to help him, but he instead reaches down both hands to grab your hips and pull you off the backrest. You yelp as your ass suddenly hangs in the air, his cock speared inside you the only secure point as he pulls you halfway off the couch, but he directs you firmly, “Here, around me,” helping you wrap your legs tightly as he starts thrusting again, harder than before.

“Oh, God, oh God,” you flail around, but each thrust in pushes your back into the cushions, and he reaches behind his back to hold your feet in his hand as he presses his palm near your head for support, spewing more filth as he does.

“That’s it, hold me tight, squeeze my cock like ye’ almost squeezed mah heid off earlier, huh, bonnie? Show me what those thighs can do, fuck-”

Your whole body is jiggling with each thrust, and you don’t have it in you to even feel self-conscious with the way each time he fills you, the tip of his cock nudges against the spongey spot inside, making you mewl in tempo with his relentless rhythm.

“Johnny, Johnny,” you moan, and he bends over to kiss you again, swallowing his name like communion while you chant it like a prayer.

“Don’t give up now, bonnie, keep squeezin’, fuck, I can feel ye’, yer so close.”

You try to get some leverage with your upper body, trying to push yourself up the cushions, but his cock suddenly slips out of you as your thighs almost give out, and an apology is already halfway out your mouth when he kneels back down and burrows between your legs, tongue first with a rushed “Need ta’ taste us, fuck, both of us, together-”

One hand wraps around your hip and over your pelvis, reaching up to knead desperately at your stomach, to pull you closer or push you away, you can’t tell, the other pulling your lips apart to settle his entire lower face against your pussy firmly– before letting go as he starts humming.

Your thighs are free to squeeze around his ears, and he nods encouragingly as he keeps licking, and then you hear it: the sounds of wet stroking. You don’t see him fisting his cock, but you hear it, fast and desperate. As your hand tangles in his hair to pull him closer, and another hum– no, another moan vibrates through your core, it’s the last thing you hear before you’re absolutely gone, gasping out a curse as you tense up in his hold, trembling as you come.

It’s even more intense than the first one, and as you buck out of his hold, he stands up shakily, his hand moving faster and faster around his cock, the angry red of his tip at the same level as your face. You gesture for him to sit down, trying to signal to him that you want to reciprocate despite the post-orgasmic haze and exhaustion, but he shakes his head, and, seconds later, you feel warm wetness land on your belly and slowly trickle down as he moans your name when he comes.

You feel like you still have to give something back, and, when he slumps down next to you with a content sigh, you climb over to place a delicate kiss on the tip of his cock, letting out a huff of laughter when it twitches under your touch.

“Ye’ absolute menace,” he whispers fondly as he pulls you up and tips his body to the side to lie down, using his legs to push you up halfway over him, trapping you between his body and the cushions, yet protectively shielding you from falling over. You place another kiss on his stomach, and you see his abs tense under your touch as your warm breath moves his hairs as you hover for a second, before deciding to shift up and use his pectorals as a cushion. He hums softly as his arm wraps around under yours, reaching to pull the plaid off the back of the couch and settle it around you both. Ticklish, eh? That’s a piece of information best stored for later.

You’re still breathless, absolutely done for. God, best decision of your life, going to the gym. “Now what?” you can’t help but ask. It’s the same fear that always creeps up, the fear that he got to try out a fantasy, and now that he was done with it, he had no need to want to continue anything possibly serious. Not that eating a girl out on a first date, if you could even call it a date, was a sign of a one-night stand, you can’t help but feel awkward and insecure now that it’s all done, despite the comforting cuddle.

He chuckles in response, that same chuckle from earlier in the day, a What a silly question chuckle. Like he’d read into your thoughts and insecurities and found them absolutely laughable.

“Same time at the gym, tomorrow? I want you to squeeze my head off next time.”

“Next time, huh?”

He pulls your leg over his pelvis, trapping his still half-mast cock between his belly and the crook of your knee, hand firmly wrapped to shift you up, almost completely on top of him. When both of you are comfortable and you start feeling the tendrils of sleep pull you deeper, he gives a last, playful squeeze to your ass.

“Next time.”

[little-diable]

The Test of Time - Tommy Shelby (smut)

This is an idea I have been playing with for a while. It is very dear to me, so I hope it'll also be to you! Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: When Professor Shelby meets his new student, he's instantly fascinated by her, not understanding why he feels this connected to her. But the second their hands touch, both feel themselves thrown back in time, meeting centuries ago. It seems like love will always stand the test of time.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, lots of fluff, mentions some war time stuff and blood, small breeding kink, professor x reader relationship, age gap

Pairing: Soldier!Tommy x nurse!fem!reader / Professor!Tommy x student!fem!reader (3.7k words)

4th of August 1916, Northern France

The air was sticky, his hands were muddy, dry, and heavy. He had to blink more often than his eyes liked, worsening the headache he had been plagued by for months. A shaky exhale left him, momentarily squeezing his eyes shut to try and keep calm. There was no way out, he was stuck, below the ground, and if there was one thing he couldn’t do, it was panicking – at least not if he wanted to stay alive. He couldn’t risk being shot for going against a command, for being frightened like a boy.

Voices echoed through the tunnel, ringing in his ears like another bomb going off in the distance. They had to work fast. They had to work precisely, otherwise they’d eventually be buried by the dark soil, swallowing them whole as the enemy won the battle. 

“Shelby!” A raspy voice ripped him out of his panicked state, he was shoved, forced to move faster, to keep on digging even though his hands were bleeding and the blisters kept growing. He had to keep digging, had to keep digging, had to keep digging. Before the darkness would swallow him whole. 

February 2024, Birmingham 

The sound of his shoes meeting the ground echoed through the empty hallway, eyes set on his black iPhone. It was too fucking early for his liking, silently cursing his faculty for forcing him to hold these early morning classes. Not once had he met a motivated student who wanted to talk about the First World War with him at 8 am, and as much as Tommy disliked the students he found himself surrounded by, he couldn’t blame them for being tired.

If he could, he’d occupy all afternoon classes, wanting to discuss his research topics with those who were actually interested in modern warfare, strategies, politics, and so on. And yet he knew the chance was slim, forced to back down and make room for those who taught the mandatory classes. 

With a sigh leaving him, Tommy stepped into the room he taught in every Tuesday morning, putting down his bag and shrugging out of his coat before he lifted his gaze. He was still on his own, wondering when the handful of students would pour into the room, probably seconds before class started. 

Tommy plopped down on the uncomfortable chair, he placed his laptop down – hoping that he could at least catch up with the morning news while still being engulfed in silence. He tried to focus on the words, tried to cling to the information he was fed, though without any luck, interrupted by the sickly sweet “Morning!” echoing through the room. 

His eyes found an unfamiliar pair, not used to being greeted this enthusiastically in the morning. It took him a second to reply, eyebrows furrowed as he studied the woman. She must have been young, and yet he instantly found himself drawn to her gorgeous features, the soft hair he wanted to feel beneath his fingertips. 

“(Y/n), right?” She had emailed him about a month ago, warning the professor that she’d have to miss the first two weeks of his course due to some family trouble. Back then he hadn’t cared about her missing out on it, it was on her to catch up with his teaching anyways, but now he couldn’t help but wonder how he had managed to miss out on having her around for even just a second. 

“That’s me! Sorry again for my absence, Professor Shelby.” He shot her a small smile, not daring to speak up as his throat grew tighter. What the fuck was going on with him? Tommy felt as if he was drowning, as if the cold ocean was soaking through his black clothes, sticking to him to add more weight to his frame. He didn’t know her, knew only her name, and yet he felt strangely connected to her. 

He needed to get a grip, needed to redirect his focus before he’d forget his surroundings and the information he was supposed to pass on to his students.

……

“Professor Shelby?” (Y/n)’s voice echoed through his office, making a small smile tug on his lips as his eyes found hers. She stepped into the room, carefully closing the door behind herself before she walked up to him. Wordlessly he pointed towards the chair placed close to his table, piercing blue eyes watching her sit down.

“I have to say, I’m impressed, (y/n). You’re the first to ever score 100 on this essay.” The smile that grew on her lips left Tommy choking on his air, forcing his eyes away from her face. It had been a selfish move to invite all students to his office hour, telling them that he’d like to give them each some verbal feedback. But deep down Tommy didn’t give a single fuck about his students, at least not about the others, having eyes only for her. 

“I wanted to leave a good impression, especially after missing out on so much.” He was forced to look at her again, shooting her another smile as he reached the essay out for her to take. His heart started racing the second her fingers touched his, vision growing blurry, unable to notice that she was going through the same confusing sensations. 

“Help! We need help!” The screams echoed through the tent, ringing in her ears as she watched the soldiers move closer. Her eyes were instantly drawn to the soldier whose face was covered in blood and mud, forcing her to run towards them. 

“Place him down over there, quick!” Panic was flushing through her. No matter how many soldiers she had helped before, no matter how many lives she had saved, (y/n) couldn’t help but fear these moments when she held their lives in her hands. She needed to work quickly, and couldn’t wait for the other nurses to return from their visitations, there was no time to lose. “I need you to hold him down.” 

Her eyes met a pair of piercing blue ones, momentarily robbing her of any air left in her lungs. She had to redirect her focus, bloody fingers trying to clean the soldier’s cheeks as the handsome man held him down. No words were spoken between them, she needed to concentrate, needed to stop the soldier’s bleeding. Feeling the other man near did something to her, something unfamiliar she hadn’t ever felt before. 

“Here, I need you to bite down on this.” She pushed a wooden piece between the guy’s teeth as she reached for her tweezers. A deep inhale of air was sucked into her lungs. Even though it wasn’t the first time she was about to pull a bullet from somebody’s skin, (y/n) couldn’t help but feel nervous. Before she could even try to move, she felt the handsome man’s hand on her knee, softly squeezing the flesh to try and wordlessly support her. She could do it, and could help the hurt soldier, especially with the support of the man who was sitting close to her. 

“Alright, this will hurt.”

“Uhm,” Tommy had to clear his throat, blinking a few times before his vision began to clear up. (Y/n) was still sitting close to him, wearing the same confused expression as Tommy. Both stared at one another for a few moments, wordlessly, before she grasped the essay. Her eyes flickered down to the paper, trying to recollect her thoughts. 

“Thank you again for this, I think it’s best if I leave now.” He didn’t get a chance to reply, could only watch her disappear before he could even try to speak up. Tommy’s heart was still racing, mind not understanding what had just happened.

Had this been some trick of his brain, something he had read about in a book or seen in a movie? And yet it didn’t explain to him why the woman had looked just like (y/n), and why (y/n) had been just as dazed as he had been. 

It took Tommy a while to move, shaking his head as he drowned the last sips of his now cold coffee. He needed to get out of his office, needed to grab a few pints with some friends, anything to distract himself from what had just happened, and from (y/n). 

……

“Here, let me.” She watched him light his match, stepping closer to help her light her cigarette. Both blew out the blue smoke, watching it dance in the warm August breeze. Tommy was covered in soil, hands and face dirty, just like his hair, and yet neither of them seemed to care, wanting to feel one another close.

It had been days since she had helped his fellow soldier, making it through the night and all the following ones, left to survive with a big scar gracing his cheek. Ever since that day, Tommy and (y/n) had searched for one another, needing to learn more about the one they couldn’t stop thinking of. 

“Do you miss home, Tommy?” (Y/n)’s whispers rang in his ears, loud enough to distract him from his surroundings, the shots going off in the distance, the calls, and cries. He was sure that no matter where he’d be, no matter who he’d be surrounded by, if (y/n) was close, he’d always find himself focused on her. 

“Always do.” A hum left her at his reply, unconsciously moving closer to him, breath getting stuck in her lungs as his arm found its way around her waist. Their eyes met, his piercingly blue and full of pain and sorrow, hers filled with questions, longings, and confusion. She watched his gaze flicker down to her lips, taking another drag of his cigarette before he dipped his head down. 

(Y/n) didn’t dare move, silently praying that he’d kiss her, that he wouldn’t pull away, wrapped in darkness’s comforting veil. But before he could move, they heard the calls growing louder, forcing all soldiers to return to their positions. Their eyes met once again as he stubbed his cigarette out, pressed a kiss to her cheek, and disappeared.

(Y/n) woke with a gasp, hands pressed to the warm mattress she had been sleeping on for the past hours. Her heart was pounding, her mind racing, still focused on the dream she had just been forced through. Ever since she had experienced that strange moment in Professor Shelby’s office, she hadn’t been able to stop thinking of him, of what her mind had pushed her through – what had felt like a memory but couldn’t be one. And now she was dreaming of him, her professor, and yet he wasn’t a professor, at least not in her dream.

She needed to talk to him, or at least touch him again to figure out of it had been a trick of her brain or something that would happen again. He had looked just as confused, dazed even, unsure what had happened the second their hands had touched. Perhaps she could speak to him after class, or show up at his office, whatever it took to be close to him again. 

……

“Professor? Do you have a moment for me?” He had disappeared too quickly after class for (y/n) to even try to catch up with him, forcing her to wait a few hours before she could turn up at his office. She watched him take off his round glasses, leaning back in his chair as a soft “Of Course” left him. 

For a few moments, they were engulfed in silence, eyes wandering over one another’s features, wondering how to express what they were plagued by. But even though (y/n) tried her hardest to speak up, she couldn’t, throat too tight, mouth too dry. Professor Shelby broke their silence as he cleared his throat, rising to his feet to slowly move towards (y/n). 

He kept his distance and leaned back against his desk, and yet she felt him close. Though not close enough, feeling herself pulled towards him like a puzzle searching for its last missing piece. With a sigh breaking through him, he reached his hand out for (y/n) to take, watching the hesitation tugging on her features. 

“It’s alright, I don’t understand it myself, but I guess it’s on us to figure this out. Whatever it is.” Her teeth ran along her lower lip as (y/n) stepped towards him, letting go of one last exhale before she carefully grasped his hand. 

“Look at me, (y/n). I’ve got you, I’m alive.” His voice rang in her ears, watching the tears drip down her cheeks as she stared up at him. She clung to his hand, cursing this very war for pushing these unfamiliar emotions through her. God, she had counted the hours, had lost hope, sure that Tommy was no longer alive. And yet here he was, alive, breathing, not even bleeding. 

She hastily took a step away, eyes wide, lips parted. He had his eyes focused on his hand, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Neither of them dared to speak up, not understanding what was happening, why these things that felt like memories were pushed through their brains. Only slowly did the professor dare to lift his gaze, studying her panicked features.

“What is happening? What is that?” (Y/n) choked on her words, torn between confusion and the pain she felt deep inside of her. It felt as if she was grieving something or rather someone. A pain she was so unfamiliar with, she couldn’t even understand what it was trying to tell her, what she was plagued by. 

“I don’t know, (y/n).” He spoke her name all too softly, sounding just like it had in her head moments ago. With wide eyes she kept studying him, needing to feel what had happened again, still not believing that this was something but a trick of her brain. All he did was watch her, eyes following her every move, even as she came to a halt in front of him, standing far closer than moments ago, he didn’t dare move. If there was one thing Tommy wanted to avoid, it was scaring her. 

“Can I try something?” Their eyes held contact as (y/n) murmured the words, waiting for his spoken consent before she moved. A quiet “Yes” left the professor, wondering what she was about to do, not expecting to feel her soft lips meeting his.

“You have to be quiet, love.” His raspy voice left her buzzing with excitement. Tommy had her pressed against a car, swallowed by darkness. Their lips met carefully at first, with her arms slung around his neck, and his hands placed on her waist. Neither of them could hold back, deepening the kiss within seconds as they hoped that no other soldiers, nurses, or commanders would find them. 

“Don’t stop, please.” He had taken over the kiss, forcing her down on his desk to stand between her thighs. Both were torn between the pictures their minds were painting and the feeling of one another’s hands exploring their bodies. Whatever it was that had pushed them together, they didn’t want to break the spell, needed to keep close. 

“Will you let me have a taste? Ever since I saw you for the first time I wanted to get my mouth between those pretty thighs of yours.” Her eyes were wide, lips parted to try and suck some air into her aching lungs. (Y/n) could only nod her head, forgetting how to speak, how to express the emotions she so desperately wanted to explain to him.

With their eyes holding contact, Tommy undid her trousers, pulling them down her legs before he pushed her damp panties to the side. The groan that clawed through him at the sight of her bare cunt left her walls clenching around nothing, needing to feel his fingers, his mouth on her. But the second he brushed two fingers through her slit, collecting drops of arousal, she found herself stuck in another memory. 

“Oh god, oh god. Right there.” Her eyes rolled back into her head, pressed against the mattress of the bed she hadn’t been lying on for years. It had been hours since they had returned from France, not daring to leave one another’s side once, hours they had spent hiding away from those who had waited on them for years, only focused on exploring their bodies without needing to worry about curious bystanders. His tongue brushed along her folds, moaning at her taste as his arms tightened their grip on her thighs. 

“I guess you’ve always tasted this sweet.” His words drew tears to her eyes, overcome by a wave of unfamiliar emotions, set on drowning her. Tommy kept moving his fingers as his tongue explored the spots she needed him to touch, choking on his name. She needed to hold onto him, needed to bury her fingers in his skin, but her fingers couldn’t move, could only cling to the edge of his table. “My pretty girl, fuck, you’re a sight for sore eyes.” 

“What a sight for sore eyes, I’m a fucking lucky bastard.” Tommy’s raspy voice filled their shared bedroom. He leaned back in his chair, chest bare, legs stretched out. Smoke left his nostrils, eyes set on her naked frame. She walked closer with a smirk on her lips, enjoying the way he marvelled at her, how he watched her every move. “I don’t deserve you, my pretty wife.”

His wife? Them, Married? Fuck, if these flashes were truly memories of their past life, she couldn’t help but thank whoever had pushed them together once again. Another shot at this life with Tommy by her side, another shot at this life with a man she had loved in other centuries. Love that would always stand the test of time. 

“I need to be inside of you, will you let me fuck you?” (Y/n) pulled Tommy in for a kiss, groaning into his mouth as she felt his covered bulge rubbing against her sensitive cunt. Their kiss was all tongue and teeth, growing more heated by the second, while Tommy’s impatient fingers freed his cock. He parted from her to roll a condom down his cock, and yet their eyes never broke eye contact. “Last chance to stop this, I need you to tell me you want this too.” 

“Oh fuck, of course I want this, Tommy. Fuck me, fuck me like you’ve always fucked me.” Her glassy eyes met his, both were clearly overcome by the emotions they still needed to adjust to. He pushed into her slowly, fingers interlaced with hers to hold her close. There was no need to adjust, it seemed like their bodies remembered one another the same way their minds did. 

“Forever mine, I will never let you go.” Tommy rasped his words into the darkness as he fucked her into their mattress. He couldn’t help but admire her, needing to take in every inch of (y/n), silently hoping that tonight he’d get to fuck another baby into her. Her moans left him smirking, fingers rubbing her pulsing bundle in sync with his thrusts, needing to push her over the edge any moment now. 

She didn’t allow herself to wonder what their life together had been like, and how many children they have had together – at least not at that very moment. All (y/n) could concentrate on was the feeling of Tommy fucking her ruthlessly, cock forcing her walls apart with every thrust. 

With her forehead pushed against his shoulder, (y/n) moaned his name, already close to letting go. Both were shaken up by what kept on happening to them whenever they touched one another in another place, bringing up memories that felt like they were straight out of a movie. It was unfamiliar and confusing, and yet it was anything but scary, no, it left them filled with excitement, needing to learn more about one another and the life they had once shared. 

“It’s alright, love, cum for me, cum on my cock.” Tommy’s gritty voice left her choking on her gasps, letting go with a moan. He kept on snapping his hips, enjoying the way she clenched around him, how she trembled from her intense orgasm. All because of him. With his thoughts set on (y/n), he came, letting go with a groan. 

For a few moments, neither of them parted from one another, holding on before he slowly pulled away. Neither of them spoke as they redressed, caught in their thoughts. Only as Tommy pulled her in for another kiss did (y/n) allow another smile to tug on her lips. 

“If you’ll allow it, I want to love you in this lifetime too, hold you close like we were destined to be.” With tears once again welling up in her eyes, (y/n) pulled him in for a breathless kiss. 

Tommy had his eyes set on her sleeping figure, hand stroking her hair. His thoughts were torn between the memories of the tunnel, of the darkness he hadn’t been able to escape from for long. But it had all been worth it, because of her, because of the woman he had married, the woman who was the mother of his children. And if there was one thing Tommy was wishing for, it was getting the chance to love her in all upcoming lifetimes too.

[atinystraynstay]

In Sickness and In Health - Choi Seungcheol

Synopsis: Being an only child, you were accustomed to taking care of yourself. It almost pained you asking for help from others. When Seungcheol noticed you are sick, he was quick to step up to the plate to offer his help. As stubborn as you might be, he found you to be the most adorable person alive.

Pairing: Choi Seungcheol x fem reader

Genre: Fluffffffff, sweet considerate Seungcheol to warm the heart on the coldest of winter days

Word Count: 1.2k

——————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

You were curled up on your couch, two blankets covering your body. You woke up this morning congested as ever. You tried running yourself a warm shower when you had to get up for work, but to no avail, you felt worse. You were forced to resign to the fact you were going to have to call in sick for work.

It also meant that you had to cancel your plans with your boyfriend, Choi Seungcheol. The two of you were supposed to go out this evening on a date. He had bought tickets to a musical you've been wanting to see. With your weakened state and the cold temperatures outside, you knew you were just asking to remain being sick. And you were determined that you were going back to work tomorrow.

"Are you sure you don't want me to bring over anything?" "Yeah, Cheol, I'm positive but thank you ☹️ the last thing I want is to get you sick." "Alright, my love. I love you."

The perk of living alone was the fact you didn't have to be confined to your room. You didn't have to worry about anyone else catching whatever virus you got. On the other hand, you didn't have much motivation to move anywhere else. The moment you got yourself situated on your couch, you knew the chances of you getting up were very slim.

Used tissues were scattered all over your living room floor, especially by the couch. You had a cup of half-empty tea on a coaster on your coffee table. The thermometer on stand by for when you were ready to check it again. You felt absolutely awful. Your bones ached and your body felt cold, hence why you trying to get warm with the two blankets. You also had a heating pad underneath you to warm up your back, trying to spread warmth throughout your entire body. Nothing seemed to help.

Some sitcom was playing in the background which you were half paying attention to. Your mind was bouncing between you phone and the TV, not really having much energy to do anything else.

This was not how you envisioned your weekend. You were very much looking forward to spending time with your boyfriend. You two have been trying to find time to meet up, but something always came up. Whether it was Seungcheol being needed at the company as he was trying to get back into the regularity of his idol lifestyle, or it might have been a meeting for work on your end. This was the first weekend in a considerable amount of days that you were both free.

Or at least you were free until you got sick. And the last thing Seungcheol could afford right now was a delay in him getting back to what he loves most. Though arguably, he would say he loved you more than performing. You knew deep down that Seungcheol had been waiting for the all-clear to resume activity.

Life is so unfair.

You sunk a bit deeper into the couch. You couldn't help but sulk. There was nothing more that you wanted than to be wrapped up in the arms of your lover. Or maybe have a bowl of warm soup.

Suddenly, you heard the sound of what you believed was your front door unlocking. Or someone trying to get in from the other side of the door.

Your heart rate picked up as you quickly looked over towards the door. In your weakened state, you were trying to get up as quickly as possible. You weren't expecting anyone nor did you order anything that would be delivered.

The last thing you need right now is someone breaking into your apartment. How could you even defend yourself? Throw your used tissue balls at them?

"Woah, woah, honey, sit down."

You instantly froze from trying to flee from the living room. You recognized that voice anywhere. You slowly eased down onto the couch as you looked over.

Slowly, you looked back over to confirm your suspicion. Choi Seungcheol. He stood with a plastic bag in one hand, the other holding the golden key to your apartment unit. You pouted as you looked at him. Yet, he looked at you like you were the most precious thing in the world.

Your heart was slowing down as you eased yourself to sit up. Cheol couldn't help but laugh a little at the scare he gave you. You whined in response, crossing your arms over your chest.

"You don't think a text would have been a good idea?" "And ruin the surprise?" He asked, a playful smirk on his lips.

Watching from the couch, Cheol first locked the door but this time locked both locks - the top and bottom. He set the bag of mystery items down on the front table before slipping off his shoes. You always loved Seungcheol's visits, but not today.

He began to make his way into your apartment but froze as he saw you move slightly. Instantly, he frowned at the sight which nearly broke your heart. Your boyfriend was always filled with gold intentions, but you couldn't risk getting him sick.

"Baby, I told you I didn't need anything. Why are you here?" You frowned. "And be labeled as worst boyfriend of the year for leaving my sick partner at home alone? Yeah, no thanks. Besides, I see the makeshift bed you made," he commented, gesturing towards the couch. "Can't get warm?"

You sighed in defeat. There was no use in arguing with Cheol because he was right. You were struggling to keep warm despite being under a mountain of warm blankets and a heating bad. The thought of being wrapped up in the arms of your boyfriend sounded more appealing, and could probably help you feel better. It would definitely cause an end to your sulking.

"But what about you? I don't want to get you sick."

The smile was back on Cheol's lips. He grabbed the bag before he made his way over to you. At least if you needed something, it was now in front of you on the coffee table rather than across the room.

"If I get sick, I get sick. I'd rather be sick knowing I made an attempt at helping you feel better than not trying at all."

Ever so gently, he leaned over to press a kiss to your forehead lingeringly. You closed your eyes at the feeling, a light smile curling onto your lips. You didn't even notice you were naturally leaning into his body. Almost as if you were magnetized to attract towards his body heat.

"See, you need me. Now, come here, pretty girl." Slowly, as to not cause anymore discomfort, Cheol wrapped his arms around you. Your back resting against his chest, his arms around your torso. You sighed in relief as you relaxed into his embrace. He grabbed one of the blankets, moving it onto your lap before pulling you in closer.

"Isn't this much better?" "Don't you dare tell me 'I told you so,' Choi Seungcheol."

Cheol didn't need to say anything. He only chuckled before pressing a lingering kiss into your cheek. It only caused you to melt further into him.

"Of course not, my stubborn girl. But now that I am here, we can stay here for however long you need. I did bring over cold medicine, in case you were running low. I also brought gatorade and snacks. But we can also order something if you want. Whatever you need, you got it already."

Okay, maybe it's not so bad having your partner around when you are sick.

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

Note: Hi! Thanks for taking the time to read 🩷 this week I've been a bit MIA since coming down with a head cold. I think that's what I get for working with kids. Definitely wrote this wishing I had my own Scoups to take care of me haha

I hope you all are taking care of yourselves and staying warm

[sluttyminghao]

for every question... j.ww

✧ pairing: tutor!wonwoo x fem!reader ✧ genre: smut // 18+ ✧ w/c: 1k ✧ warnings: orgasm denial, fingering, mentions of a blowjob, mentions of another denied orgasm, slight bondage themes ✧ synopsis: having wonwoo as your maths tutor was exciting, especially when he rewarded or punished you based on how you answered your questions ✧ a/n: this is just a very short thought I had bc he won't get out of my mind, if you would like a part 2 please let me know i'd be happy to write something!

"what's the answer to question 4?" wonwoo's soft voice fills the room and you wrack your brain for an answer. you tap your pencil on your lip absentmindedly, not even noticing wonwoo's gaze falling to where the pencil lies, his mind drifting off.

your math teacher had noticed your failing grades and decided to pair you up with wonwoo, the smartest in the class. you had been against the idea at first, seeing as the man in question was extremely reserved and didn't really speak to anyone.

however, when he was alone with you his true personality flourished and you were able to see how cocky and teasing he could really be underneath the layers of reservation. you were beginning to enjoy maths now that he was involved.

he had a very specific tactic that he used with you when he came to tutor on a Wednesday evening. for every question you got right, you received an orgasm. for every question you got wrong, he denied it. so far the tactic had worked well, and you had rarely been denied an orgasm.

but tonight, you were both distracted and it might've just been because wonwoo had come straight from the gym, his tank top exposing his glorious arms that could crush your skull if he pressed hard enough.

"darling, i need an answer," wonwoo chuckles, bringing you out of your train of thought. you feel your cheeks warm as you look down at the question in front of you again, the numbers and letters scrambling into one giant pile of confusion.

"i- i don't know," you mumble, your cheeks growing warmer and you just know that wonwoo is staring at you coldly. he knows you know the answer, but he's not sure if you're just not all there tonight or you have some different motive.

"sure you do, angel, you just need to divide these two numbers, add the second number to this one and-" you cut him off by pressing a finger to his lips, your brain moving a mile a minute and your heart beating as fast as a rabbits.

"wonwoo, i truly don't know the answer, i will just take the denial later on," you smile, and you see a spark in his eyes that you haven't seen for a while. he smirks and places a hand on your upper thigh, squeezing the flesh, but not moving any further.

"alright, let's just move on then, something a little harder for you." he enunciates his sentences by sliding his hand up your thigh a little further, now underneath your skirt and fiddling with the hem of your underwear.

your breath hitches, and you try your best to concentrate on the question at hand. calculus always had you stumped, and this time it was no exception. you stared at the question for a good 5 minutes, before even attempting to try and answer it.

wonwoo keeps a small smile on his face while he watches your body react to his touches. he knows you're trying hard to focus on the task at hand, but he also is aware that you're probably already soaking your panties and he wants to be buried inside you as soon as possible.

he's daring, that's for sure. just when you think you've got an idea on how to answer the question and begin scribbling onto the paper, he slides his slim fingers across the front of your panties and press against the distinct wet patch that has you gasping and spreading your legs.

"stay focused, and don't cum."

his words bounce around in your mind which soon turns to mush as he pushes your panties to the side, the pad of his thumb quickly finding your clit and rubbing slow, teasing circles. your body jolts at the coolness of his fingers, and he has to drape one of his legs over yours to keep your legs open.

he works on your clit for a while, before alternating between running down your slit and back up again, teasing your hole and chuckling when you pulse around nothing. he can see your facade slowly breaking and shifting into one he's grown familiar with, but he wants to see how long it can take you to crack.

"so, do you have an answer yet? remember if you get this one wrong that will be 2 denied orgasms," his voice has dropped an octave and he's taken his teasing further by now pressing a finger inside you, your entrance sucking him in and pulsing rapidly.

"i think s-so, is it 207?" your voice is shaky, you hope you haven't given him the wrong answer, although your mind isn't so worried about it currently when you can feel the pit of your stomach beginning to tighten with an impending orgasm.

he checks over your working out and answers, now sliding a second finger inside you and scissoring you open while you spread your legs and let a moan slip. he glances at you over his glasses and smirks darkly when he comes to the conclusion that you've gotten the answer wrong. again.

"sorry sweetheart, that's two in a row that you've gotten wrong. you know what to do now."

his fingers slip out of you, a strangled whine escaping you as you're once again left clenching around nothing. he watches as you stand and begin removing your clothing piece by piece, until you're standing in front of him stark naked.

he grins and unzips his jeans and removes his hardened cock from them, stroking himself at the sight of you all worked up and dripping onto your thighs. he beckons you over with his eyes, and you drop to your knees in front of him, awaiting his next move.

"so you've had one denied orgasm already, you have one to go. but first, you are gonna suck me off and then maybe I'll consider fucking you until you can't walk. you still won't be able to cum though, so watch your actions."

you nod and extend a hand out to grasp at his cock, but he playfully slaps it away. you tilt your head in confusion, watching as his removes his tie and leans over you, tying your hands behind your back so that they're restricted by the black silk.

"you can only use your mouth, no hands."

boy, was he having your work cut out for you.

[casper-spills]

𝒲𝒽𝓎 𝒯𝒽𝑒𝓎 𝒜𝓇𝑒 𝒥𝑒𝒶𝓁𝑜𝓊𝓈 𝒪𝒻 𝒴𝑜𝓊...

ᴘɪʟᴇ 1 ~ ᴘɪʟᴇ 2 ~ ᴘɪʟᴇ 3

ᴘɪʟᴇ 1

Cards: Knight of Swords, Six of Swords, Three of Wands (reversed), The Magician, Ten of Coins, Eight of Swords (reversed), The Sun (reversed), Five of Coins (reversed)

They are jealous because they think that you're incredibly capable of having a sucessful life. They think that you are ambitious, action oriented, driven and a fast thinker. They also notice how adaptable you are and how much you change as a person especially when this change has something to do with certain baggage or traumas you might have. You're not easliy put down or effected by what others project onto you, making you unstoppable. Once you put your mind to something, absolutely nothing and nobody can stop you. You have already manifested your dreams.

They are jealous because they have a goal in mind that they just can't seem to put into action like you can. They may have a similar upbringing to you or they just relate to you deeply and because of this, they get frustrated with themselves when they don't have the same resilience when life brings them down. They wonder how you're always so persistant and motivated even after what you've been through. They can't seem to get themsleves out of this negative energy.

Your physical assets: Unique appearance, birthmarks or scars, appear younger than you are, good nose, flashing smile, rosy complexion or red hair, broad shoulders or slim hips, lean figure

Good traits you have: Adaptable, always changing, open minded, truth seeker, passionate, explorer, unafraid of failure, good communicator, curious, knowledgable

ᴘɪʟᴇ 2

Cards: Seven of Swords (reversed), Two of Wands, King of Swords, The Fountain, Knight of Wands, Three of Swords, Three of Cups (reversed), Two of Coins, Six of Wands (reversed), Three of Wands, Knight of Cups, Five of Cups (reversed)

They are jealous of you because they know that you are very intelligent and put together. You are in control of your life and you have a certain power that this person cannot even compare to. You might be the kind of person that leads a group or a team. You might be an extrovert and people might gravitate towards you. They know that you are organised,intelligent emotionally as well as academically, open minded, energetic and passionate. This person has also noticed that you don’t really bring others into your problems. You don’t like to talk about your personal drama within this circle and nobody suspects it except maybe thus person. Perhaps this person was once someone you trusted with this information.

This person might be an ex friend or even ex lover or just somebody that you have cut ties with. It seems that there are others that have cut ties with them. Perhaps a third party in the love triangle or this might just be a friend group of three. They’re jealous because the third party has chosen you over them. They prioritised you over them and started to pay more attention to you. This person might try to bring you down by name calling and jabbing at your ego.

Your physical assets: Half smile, high forehead, inquisitive eyes, very tall, long torso, shapely legs, broad shoulders and hips

Good traits you have: Intimidating, calm cool and detached demeanour, a little awkward in a charming way, optimistic, philosophical, responsible, generous, tolerant

ᴘɪʟᴇ 3

Cards: Strength (reversed), Temperance, Six of Coins, The Fountain (reversed), Eight of Coins, Knight of Cups, The Tower, The Moon (reversed), Five of Coins (reversed), King of Wands (reversed), Seven of Wands (reversed), The World (reversed), Page of Coins (reversed), Ace of Coins

You and this person are rivals and they are jealous of you because you have taken measures to get what you want and it’s working. You are both interested in the same person romantically and they know that you are a ‘sweetheart’ in everyone’s eyes. You wear your emotions on your sleeve, you’re generous and patient except in this particular case. You have decided that now is the time to be impulsive and hasty so you’ve started to use your assets to charm your person.

They know that you’re seen as very feminine, almost as if you’re a princess in need, a damsel in distress, and your knight in shining armour wants to come and save the day. You’ve decided to get close with them, opening up to them and talking about your vulnerabilities and your insecurities. They’re definitely very jealous of you because you have them wrapped around your finger and they can’t possibly compete with someone like you.

Your physical assets: Large round eyes, small and delicate ears, dark hair and eyes, doe eyed, curly hair, symmetrical features, distinct delicate neck, strong posture, distinct voice/manner of speaking

Good traits you have: good communicator, adaptable, witty, quick learner, easily express your feelings, good at conceptualising ideas, organised, analytical

✧ 𝕿𝖍𝖆𝖓𝖐 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖋𝖔𝖗 200 𝖋𝖔𝖑𝖑𝖔𝖜𝖊𝖗𝖘! ✧

Special thanks to @miawiraclz @artscapismsworld @miraclekay97 @slashercult @swordoftheseeker @visualbutterflysworld @rainychibikko @honnuey @livelythoughts

[zedleaked]

What is your opinion on drv3 chapter 2... or just kirumi and ryoma's story/dynamic?

[Lyrics from: 'Julie vs. Robot Julie' by ARTHUR]

I'm probably biased but OUGHGHFGH CHAPTER 2........

It's a running thing with me but I tend to really like the chapter 2s in each game,,, probably cause they involve characters I like [i.e: Mondo, Chihiro, Fuyuhiko, Ryoma, etc.]

[read more if you want to read my rant bc I wrote more than I usually do]

From the very start Ryoma was really interesting to me, especially in chapter one when he offered himself as a sacrifice to stop the time limit,, It was nice to see him slowly get better and try to find a reason to live... but uh... we eventually get to see what happens...

Kirumi on the other hand didn't really catch my eye as much, well I mean her design goes hard but for me, she faded into the background a lot...

Also holy shit this chapter probably has one of the best body discoveries in the series. The chill I felt when Ryoma's body just fucking appeared in the piranha tank and seeing it shortly get torn apart really made an impression on me. It was obvious that something was going to go wrong during the magic show but that was still so shocking to me. Out of all the games, V3 is definitely the one that made me audibly go: "NO!💥💥💥!!!!!" the most

It kinda makes me wish that Himiko and Ryoma had more of a connection before his death or at least had Himiko acknowledge his death more... not only did someone die in her show that was supposed to distract everyone from the killing,, but it was someone who was actually pretty nice to her... But also to be fair Himiko represses her grief a lot, only really letting it out during chapter 3. I dunno I just want the depressed mage and the depressed tennis pro to be besties, is that too much to wish for? <//3

The trial was pretty alright,, to be honest, I was a little annoyed at Himiko for still sticking to her magic shtick even after someone fucking died but I think that was made up for when Kirumi got accused. Oh boy, I said Kirumi didn't catch my attention earlier but this trial made me like her so much. The manipulative shit she says during the trial activated my brain cells, she was willing to deceive the people she'd been surviving with to try and essentially save the country...

It feels like a more personal version of the trolley cart problem: Would you fight alongside these 13 people you've gotten to know and survive with, with the slim chance that you might escape? Or would you take the risk and purposely kill all of them to fulfill your duty and save a whole country? It's debatable if what Kirumi did was really 'selfless' or not. It made her really interesting to me.

And finally... oh my god, Ryoma, man.... The reveal that his motive video was empty and that he had no one to live for broke my heart so badly <//3 poor guy has gone through too much. The fact that he gave up like that, offering himself up to Kirumi is so... RGHARGHR!!!! 💥💥💥,, PLEASE.........

Even though I really wanted Ryoma to survive, I thought that chapter 2 was a depressing but fitting end for him. Like it really sucks bad that he wasn't able to find a reason to live but not everyone can have a good ending unfortunately... I just want to grab him and shake him around GRUGAHRGHH 💥💥💥

so uh in short: me likey chapter 2 I go insane every time I think about it.................

[doumadono]

(Since I am a bitch 😈😈😈)

I have a request!

NSFW alphabet with our "beloved" Enji Todoroki!!!!!! 😏🔥

MASTERLIST

A - aftercare If you're just a casual fling or someone he met randomly at a bar, the chances of him sticking around are quite slim. However, if he's genuinely invested in the relationship, there will come a point where he reveals his caring side. Seeing you upset because of his initial emotional distance triggers a sense of guilt within him, and he eventually relents, saying, "Alright, let's cuddle."

B - body part He loves your ass, tempted to give it a playful pat or some appreciative glances, all while trying to not make the impression that he's a pervert

C - cum Enji usually pulls out and cums on your ass, or just jacks off to it but sometimes he'll grab your throat and push you on your knees to cum on your face. "Yeah, babe, take it, take it! See how fucking beautiful you look with my cum all over your face?"

D - dirty secret Endeavor's hidden desire is for you to pleasure yourself with toys while he watches, jacking off

E - experience He has a wealth of experience, and I mean a substantial amount of it. This guy truly knows what he's doing

F - favorite position His favourite position is doggy style, he feels so powerful and in control while you're on all fours, whimpering pathetically for him. He loves taking you from behind and pulling on your hair, making you scream his name. "You like it when I fuck you into submission like this? I bet you do, slut."

G - goofy He's extremely serious and doesn't welcome humor in the bedroom

H - hair Enji doesn't bother to shave but he's naturally well-tamed with body hair

I - intimacy The most intimate act for him is to press your foreheads together as he thrusts inside you at merciless pace

J - jack off In rare occasions, he might indulge in self-pleasure, but this only occurs when you haven't been together for a few weeks or so

K - kinks Breeding kink - he's definitely into feral/animalistic sex since he's so aggressive

Power play - that goes without saying

Master/slave play - Todoroki finds it very arousing when you're serving him sexually and he can order you around. "Suck my cock like a good little servant and you'll get to cum."

L - location Bed or shower - Endeavor strongly dislikes dealing with messes in locations where it's not convenient to clean up the filth easily

M - motivation Intentionally arousing him, only to appear disinterested afterward. He'll absolutely destroy you and abuse all of your holes afterward, but it's worth it. "You fucking tease, I should just pound you until your fucking cunt is sore."

N - no Anything that places him in a submissive position is something he's not particularly fond of - Endeavor's an aggressive top, and even trying to bottom would hurt his ego

O - oral He definitely prefers to receive it - he gives only if he feels like it

P - pace Fast and rough. That's it!

Q - quickie He’s down for quickies. Enji prefers proper sex, but he won’t say no to a nice quickie

R - risks He won’t take risks, ever. He wouldn't even consider anything that could potentially harm either of you. His past experiences have made him exceedingly cautious when it comes to taking risks of any kind

S - stamina He can go for a few rounds at the most, meaning you're having the most earth shattering orgasms of your life coming you way

T - toys He thinks you don’t need a vibrator when you have him, and he’s goddamn right!

U - unfair He likes to tease way too much, and he will do it at the worst possible moments. Sometimes you’ll be having dinner with some of the other heroes, and he’ll start to finger you under the table, just like that 🤷

V - volume Endeavor can get pretty loud, he doesn’t care about noise complaints. He does a lot of growling, groaning and dirty talk

W - wildcard He will come up with the most pathetic reasons to bend you over his knee and punish you

X - x-ray He's very thick, very long and very veiny. 8-9 inches when fully hard

Y - yearning His sex drive is undeniably high. He prefers to engage in sexual activity at least every other day. Occasionally, he can't contain himself and pins you against the nearest surface, having his way with you

Z - zzz It takes him a little while to fall asleep, so normally you’ll be the first to be asleep

[beanzfandoms]

│Chapter One│

│Human! Alastor x Reader│

Ⓢⓨⓝⓞⓟⓢⓘⓢ: Alastor offers (Y/n) a job, and though they are hesitant, they accept.

Ⓝⓞⓣⓔⓢ: The reader is indicated to be biologically female as they will face certain challenges throughout this story due to the time period. Characters set in this will refer to the reader as she, but for the most part, it will be gender neutral. This is written to be platonic but will remain ambiguous. There may be inaccuracies to the time frame. This series may and will contain things such as sexism, classism, gender dysphoria, bullying, mentions of religion, and gore. Please read at your own risk.

〣Previous Part 〣

═══════════════════════════

"Alastor. Charmed to meet you! I must say, this is an awful lot of stuff you have here. Mind if I ask what you are doing?" The man speaks with glee.

(Y/n) notes a shine in his eyes they couldn't quite decipher, and a feeling of uncertainty washes over them. Very few people have shown interest towards them willingly, as the locals have made sure to blacklist them due to their unorthodox behavior, and (Y/n) mentally barricades themself for where this interaction will lead to. Surely, it won't end well.

"Just working on an assignment," (Y/n) replies, cautiously watching as the man permits himself to sit at the table.

"One for learning then! What does one such as yourself want to be?" Alastor hums, looking over the covered surface with curiosity.

"I'm currently enrolled for journalism. Nothing too grand..."

"I see, I see. Do tell about this fascination you have with the Bayou Killer then? Surely, the college doesn't speak of such things in a mere literacy class," Alastor casually remarks as he takes up one of the cut-out articles that (Y/n) made notes on in his hand, "My, what interesting theories you have! Do you really think this murderer has a vendetta against ill-willed men?"

"That's none of your concern," (Y/n) snaps as they tear their work away from the stranger's hold. The man's smile twitches slightly, his stare intensifying on them for a moment. (Y/n) would've been intimated if it weren't for the immediate regret they felt pull at their heart. Alastor's arms fall into his lap, and the grin he wore before falls as he leans back. Were they truly so standoffish as Joanne claims?

"I apologize..." (Y/n) sighs out, "That was rude of me, and though I cannot excuse my terrible behavior, it's been an off day for me. Please pardon my actions."

"That's quite alright, my dear. I've had a few days in the ditch myself, but my mother always told me that if you want something to happen, act as if you already have it," Alastor reflects with the wiggle of his finger. "Nothing a little music can't help either! Instead of working one's finger to the bone, why don't you come dance with me?"

"That's very kind of you, but you wouldn't want to dance with me."

"Nonsense! If I didn't want to, I wouldn't have asked."

"If you want to go home with a broken toe, then by all means."

"How farcical of you," Alastor laughs, "I'd like to see you try!"

Alastor's temperament returns back to a mirthful one such as before, an ever-growing smile etched on his lips and waggish gleam casting from his eyes. His slim fingers tap against the glass he brought with him from the bar, sipping from the alcoholic beverage periodically as his gaze drifts over to the bustling scene of the dancefloor. (Y/n) watches too, as pretty girls with short furling dresses and babydoll curls gather with their friends to dance with boys who bought them one to many drinks. The laughter that bounces throughout the building suddenly becomes too much for (Y/n), and though Alastor sat just beside them, a staggering loneliness weighs heavy on them.

"Please don't let me keep you," (Y/n) mutters, returning their focus back on the papers laid out in front of them. Not like they had the motivation to work now, but it was the only thing that would keep their mind from wandering too far. Scribbling away once more, (Y/n) couldn't help but to be curious of a soft creaking coming closer to their side, and peek over to see Alastor's watchful regard reading over their writing. "What are you doing?"

"Mere curiosity is all, sweet. You need it in my line of work, but I suppose you would understand where I'm coming from, wouldn't you?"

"It's not my job to be curious, I just simply am."

"Is that so?" Alastor asks with a raise of his brow, "I would've assumed a clever woman such as yourself would have a high standing occupation to go with her wit."

"And that would be a first for me being called clever instead of imprudent," (Y/n) laughs, "Sadly, your assumption is mistaken. I guess people just don't see anything else besides my gender. I can't be smart like a man nor curious like a man can. How lucky for you."

"I could care less," Alastor answers, "All that matters is that I see potential, a potential I can guide."

"What could I possibly give you that won't bite you in retaliation?"

"You have no idea who I am, do you?" He grins somewhat diabolically, "What could society possibly say about you that would bring down the best radio host in city? Trust me, you aren't the only one who's name escapes disquieting tongues. From one interesting person to another, I persist that we join forces. Come work with me at that radio station."

"You come off awfully fast. I don't even know you!"

"You can't race time, but you can be quick with it! You need a job, do you not?"

"I'll think about it," (Y/n) remarks, "I'm still in school after all. I will have to see when and if my schedule permits it. You cannot control time either, you know?"

"I understand completely, my dear! Take all the time you need. My radio isn't going anywhere if I can help it!"

"There you are!" The familiar sound of (Y/n)'s mother calls out over the live music. The fringes of their mother's dress shine under the fluorescents like gold as she walks over to the table, an ecstatic red painted smile expressing how she felt. She looked absolutely stunning, (Y/n) thought. Her aging has always been graceful, like that of fine silk, and a small sense of pride fills them as they think back on Mimzy's praise. (Y/n) never saw themself as beautiful, always opting to hide away from attention as much as they could, but the similarities they had with their mother was something they always liked. "I was worried that you didn't show up."

"I would never disobey you, Ma." (Y/n) comments as their mother sits across from Alastor.

"I see you've made a friend!" Their mom's eyes twinkle as her attentiveness casts over to the man, "I'm Lorraine, (Y/n)'s mother. Pleasure to meet you!"

"The pleasure is all mine!" Alastor greets, "I must say, what an excellent performance you put on earlier! I suppose talent runs in the family?"

(Y/n)'s mother surveys him quizzically, pursing her lips in thought, before her eyes brighten.

"Did (Y/n) let you read her writings? Marvelous, isn't it? I don't know where she got her smarts from, but it surely wasn't me! I have to say though, she normally doesn't get along quick with strangers. What did you do to be so special?"

(Y/n)'s cheeks heat slightly as their mother peeks at them, a smirk on her face. They quickly collect their papers with a pout, glaring from the eulogize words their mom practically sang. "Don't call yourself dumb, Ma. You are anything but," (Y/n) grumbles, "The only reason Mister Alastor here read anything is because he allowed himself to without permission."

"You wound me!" Alastor cries, clasping his suit where his heart should be, "Your work merely fascinates me is all. I offered them a job, you know?"

"Really?" Lorraine exclaims with a gasp, "Oh, (Y/n)! That's wonderful! What will she be doing?"

"Helping me write manuscripts for my broadcast. If she says yes, that is."

"You must say yes, sweetheart! This is a miracle to you from God!" (Y/n)'s mother pleads as she take her child's hands in hers. "It may not be exactly what you want, but you've been given a chance."

"I've been called many things in my life, but God is a first." Alastor bombinates with a tilt of his head.

"Oh! My apologize, Mister Alastor!" their mom remarks, "Thank you for seeing good in my daughter!"

"Why do I feel like I don't have a choice here?" (Y/n) mutters, watching the two adults go back and forth in chatter. Their mother, charismatic as ever, goes off on a tangent about (Y/n)'s greatest strengths that could be useful in the workplace. Her face beams with absolute gratitude and support; it makes (Y/n) feel off about their previous cumbersome comments. Alastor nods along with their mother's insistent information, his head leaning casually against his closed fist.

A sense of mystery surrounds this man, (Y/n) notes cautiously. Though his demeaner was nothing short of friendly, his eyes held unknown intent. The edge of his smile quirks slightly as he continues listening to their mother, but the tapping of his foot shows a sense of urgency. (Y/n) continues observing the stranger, even when his eyes connect with theirs.

All their life, no one besides their mother showed such fervent interest in their activities. On many occasions, they were told that their insistence on bountiful knowledge would only lead them to be fruitless. No one in this city would've told this man good things about their progressive exertion, and it only made (Y/n) want to build up their walls even higher. Their mother wasn't oblivious to people's intentions and wickedness, however. She's had her fair share of snakes, and she knows when to spot one, even with her honey-like spirit. It caused a sense of unsureness within (Y/n)'s own perception; were the things that they heeded true, or was there an underlining of their insecurities seeping through? If their mother didn't raise any alarm of what she thought of Alastor, why should they?

"Can I help you with something?" Alastor calmly asks as his stare bores into (Y/n)'s.

"I was just wondering..." (Y/n) declares, "When would you like me to start?"

━━━━━━━━━━━━━☻━━━━━━━━━━━━━

(Y/n) vigorously taps their pencil against the desk, eyes glued to the hands ticking by on the clock above the professor's head. Time surely was testing (Y/n)'s patience today, as their history teacher had brought her lecture to a closing a few minutes ago, and opted the students to work on anything that needed to get done before it was officially time to leave. (Y/n), diligent as ever, made sure to be on top of their class assignments. There was really no reason for them to stay in class; however, the anxiety that bubbled underneath their skin prompted them to linger a little longer.

Very few students remain in the room, most taking the free time as a way of escape from their responsibilities. Though some moil over their own homework in silence, others gathered together leisurely in gossip. The boisterous laughter buzzed uncomfortably in (Y/n)'s ears like that of an unreachable itch, but the loudness of their own head distracted them more so.

With persistent persuasion from their mother after the encounter with Alastor, (Y/n) requested to start at the station the beginning of the upcoming week. The weekend went by before they could even process what they had accepted, and now that the afternoon of their first shift has presented itself in a cloudy manner, (Y/n)'s doubt sprouted in a messy briar of potency. But, the distraction of their own loathing couldn't even be dealt with in peace.

A sharp pain warms the back of (Y/n)'s head with great vehemence, as a strand of their hair is tugged on in an arbitrary manner. The audible hiss that escapes through their teeth causes an eruption of cackles behind them. (Y/n) swiftly turns to the obnoxious noise, icy vexation carrying their stare. Donald Raslo, a boy with slick auburn locks and a smile that would gain any clueless woman's trust, eyes (Y/n) with a look they could only describe as vile. His teeth tug at his bottom lip mischievously, hazel orbs casting over their body. An involuntary shutter of disgust travels down their spine as their fellow classmate reaches over to grab at their hair again.

"Don't touch me," (Y/n) growls in absolute rancor.

"I'm surprised you haven't just shaved it all off yet," Donald simply replies with a maniacal grin. "You know, since you want to be a man so bad."

"You are pathetic," (Y/n) responds coolly as they turn back in their seat to quickly gather their things. Another agonizing pull forces their head back as Donald watches from behind his thin-framed glasses.

"It's all just fun and games!" Donald chuckles, as if his insults were anything but cruel, "You get defensive so quickly. Relax a little, doll."

"What do you want?" (Y/n) bluntly asks, jerking the strand away that Donald curled with his finger.

"I was wondering if you would go to the dance with me. I've wanted to ask for a while now."

A scowl morphs onto (Y/n)'s face, and they rise from their sit. Anger boils throughout their body, their nails involuntarily digging at their palms. Without another word to the boy, (Y/n) excuses themself to their teacher, and flounces out of the room. The heels on their feet become unbearably heavy as they stalk throughout the halls, visibly shaking as the distant feeling of Donald's hand through their hair burns at their scalp. (Y/n) wanted to scrub their head raw as their discomfort taunts them.

The world around them spins, and tears catch at the edge of their eyes. Deep huffs of air exhale from (Y/n) as they try to calm down. They despised themself for letting such childish behavior bring them into such a vulnerable state, but the tightness in their chest was excruciating.

Sometimes, they wished that they weren't so different.

The smell of freshly bloomed marigolds ground (Y/n) back to reality as they push open an exit door of the school. The sky basks in a slate blue, caressing the earth in a rare coolness of spring. The wetness on their cheeks startles them; they hadn't realized they were crying. Wiping their cheeks with the sleeve of their overcoat, they settle themself on the pavement steps gliding down into town. They stare blankly ahead, a fixed frown on their face.

(Y/n) never let the bullying affect them too much, convincing themself that the others were too callow for their own good. They taught themself at a very young age to stifle their insecurities, and eventually, people would just leave you alone. (Y/n) isn't an emotionless robot, however. As hardened as they try to appear, wounds that are consistently probed at never truly heal.

"(Y/n)?"Joanne, small and quiet in tone, carefully settles herself down by them, sun hat in her petite white-gloved hands. Her eyebrows arch together in worry and a deep frown sits on her usually cheerful face. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," (Y/n) remarks as their eyes remain ahead. They subtly wipe at their cheeks again, letting out a deep sigh. "What do you need?"

"I wanted to apologize, for what I said to you before. It was very unbecoming of me. I'm sorry."

"Water under the bridge, Ann..."

"Good," Joanne says after a moment, "I couldn't live with my best friend being upset with me."

"I'm not petty by any means. The most I would've done is never talk to you again," (Y/n) snorts.

"You call that not being petty?" Joanne laughs, "You and I have different morals on what that looks like then! Seriously though, are we alright?"

"We will be, (Y/n) replies, "There's still a lot I have to think on."

"I understand... I heard that Donald asked you to the dance. You rejected him."

"I'm guessing he told you that. I'm still not accepting his offer, if that is why you are truly out here."

"I won't pressure you into dating someone you don't like. I know my fair share in that," Joanne reflects as she pinches at the fabric of her skirt delicately, "Will you at least think about going still? Even if you go alone, I'll be happy that you're there."

"You know I don't do good at socializing," (Y/n) answers, "It's best if I just stick to myself."

"Could I maybe convince you over coffee? The cafe should still be open."

"I won't be able to today. I have plans already," (Y/n) acknowledges as they stand. Casting their gaze over to the girl, a smirk cracks onto their solemn expression. "I might take you up on the offer at a later date though. Our last get-together ended kind of sour, after all."

"Sure, but why the sudden leave?" Joanne questions as she stands herself.

"I got a job."

"Oh, (Y/n)! That's wonderful!" Joanne exclaims as she races to hug her friend. "Mind if I ask where?"

"A local radio station," (Y/n) simply remarks, rigidly patting Joanne on the back. Their friend pulls away soon after, hands firmly holding their shoulders and a big grin on her face.

"How long have been working there? Is that why you haven't been around?"

"Not exactly... I've been helping my Mom with her new job after my classes. That's where I met my boss actually; I start today."

"You'll have to tell me all of the details later! Promise you will!"

"I promise... Can you let me go now?"

━━━━━━━━━━━━━☻━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Wheels squeal to life as the bus (Y/n) took to the far edge of town starts up again. The ground beneath them rumbles as the trolley continues back to civilization, and (Y/n) begins to venture across the street where the treeline of the marsh begins.

A dirt road trails off into the forest, a black tin mailbox posted alongside it. Glancing at the scrapped piece of paper in their hands, (Y/n) read over the address Alastor hastily wrote down for them a few days before, and confirm this was the driveway to the radio station.

Leaves, thick like smoke, hover over (Y/n) in shadowed agglomerations, and sweat begins to bead across their forehead as the coolness of the day begins to heat up once more. The muggy atmosphere felt almost suffocating, but they continued onwards with tenacious intent. Though anxiety still roared within their heart in fast palpitations, they'd be damned to show up late.

The forest rang with muffled silence, the chirping of crickets seeming to echo but a distance. (Y/n) follows along the wooden fence that barricaded the road from the woodland's depths, and soon enough, a scrupulous house and rustic barn are revealed as the narrow path opens up into a field.

As (Y/n) walks up to the porch, confusion entwines in their thoughts as they quickly notice how vacant this station seemed to be. They knock on the screen door and wait a few moments with furrowed brows.

Where was everybody?

"There you are, dear!" The charismatic voice of Alastor discloses his presence, his never-changing smile lining his pearly whites with thin lines. "I hope your travels gave you no trouble."

"Your station is a long ways from the city. I almost thought I got off at the wrong place. Where are the others?" (Y/n) asks curiously as they walk down to meet him.

"The others?" Alastor questions.

"Surely you don't do everything yourself? Where are your other employees?"

"I don't need a whole group to do tasks I'm perfectly capable of doing myself," Alastor comments as he leads (Y/n) towards the barn with his hand on their upper back. "I will say though, I'm ecstatic to see how you work. I sure do hope you do not disappoint me."

"Me either..." (Y/n) mutters, malaise injecting itself once again into their nerves.

As they enter, (Y/n) notices rather quickly that this isn't a typical barn house, but instead, it has been renovated in Alastor's image. The area was spacious and quaint, organized in a way that aligned with Alastor's schedule. Sound panels lined the wall, a table adjacent to them equipped with a microphone and headphones. Paper cabinets were stationed in the far corner and a cork board pinned with different notes and articles hung above them. A lounge area was arranged near the center, couches patterned with red and black circling a low rising coffee table. Along with the dim bulb lanterns that dropped from the ceiling, the atmosphere was quite cozy.

"This isn't what I was expecting," (Y/n) honestly reports, watching as Alastor casually sits on one of the sofas. "I was imagining a more... Claustrophobic environment to say the least."

"Oh, Heaven's no. I need my space to work," Alastor replies with a soft scoff. (Y/n) felt somewhat small compared to Alastor, his confidence burning like a rapid flame to wind. His knowledge on the world, though ostensibly coming off as arrogant at times, seemed to be too far-reached for the likes of (Y/n). However, a small spark of aspiration lit their need to learn, and a smaller part of them also hoped that Alastor would be patient in his teachings. Yet, (Y/n) also couldn't help but to remain cautious of this man's intentions. His ambitions towards them still remain unclear, and that caused an uncomfortable grip of fear on their heart.

"I'm still not fully sure on why you were insistent that I work for you. What can I do that someone else can't? You said it yourself you can manage perfectly fine on your own. I'm just curious on why," (Y/n) says, hesitantly walking further inside with their bag strap in a deathly grip.

"I've told you before," Alastor remarks in a deep timbered hum, his eye blown out and unwavering as he stares at them. "I want to experiment with your mind. See your ticks and how it responds to certain circumstances. I did my research more than you realize, sweet."

"You purposely sought me out because of gossip? You do realize you are feeding into a media man's stereotype, yes?"

"I never said I believed it! It is my job and passion, however, to create my own hypotheses. If it makes you feel any better, I do find that brain of yours quite fascinating so far."

"I don't really know what to say to that..."

"Let's make a deal then, shall we?" Alastor compels, "I'll let you cover any topic your heart desires while you work under me, and with the condition that you can leave at any time, I get to observe and test you in any way I please."

"And what makes you think I won't walk out of here right now? How can I guarantee you won't use anything against me?" (Y/n) tests with a grimace, hating the slight amusement they found in this position. They took pride in the work they do, knowing that every advantage they can access to achieve the truth should never be taken for granted. On the other hand, they despised needless societal gossip. Being on the receiving end of undeserved hate, they fully understand the need for veracity. Though, they don't fully commend Alastor at this point, the opportunity to disassemble the lies built in New Orleans overweighed any possible hesitations.

"You can't guarantee anything and I won't say if I will or if I won't. I know you won't walk away though," Alastor chuckles, "You are just like me; you won't turn down the possibility of destroying another."

"Is that so?" (Y/n) hisses out, a tempestuous glare keeping up with the puckish one their new boss held with them. "What do we start on first then?"

"Sit, dear." Alastor's smile widens as he gestures to the other couch, "We have much to discuss."

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[poetryincostume]

When I was regathering my long-neglected research for my Helga Sinclair ribbon corset, I rediscovered this gorgeous extant example in the V&A from 1895. Unlike most extant examples I've come across, this one doesn't feature overlapping ribbons. This suggests that it was made for a particularly slim woman who needed very little support and for particular summertime breathability (supported by the garment waist measuring 19", suggesting a laced waist of 22-24".)

To me, long-since trapped in The Locked Tomb, the ribcage-like appearance was inescapable. Wouldn't you know it, I have a Crown Prince Kiriona Gaia costume that I started a year ago that was needing a little something something to pull the design together and to help motivate me.

The pattern was adapted from my Helga ribbon corset, allowing for 24mm wide ribbon to meet at the sides and spread evenly in a ribcage like fashion at the front panel.

This time I used a beautiful shell-coloured silk ribbon. The ribbon is so beautifully soft, that it was a nightmare to work with. I do not recommend it for something that needs quite so much working as it marked with so much as a hard look! I am fairly certain that the V&A example the ribbon is self-mounted, so I again mounted my main ribbon, this time on a white cottong taffeta ribbon. If i slipped with my mounting or the ribbon twisted or buckled, i thought the white would be a suitably stark and skeletal contrast to the main silk ribbon.

As I am perhaps a little more fleshy than the lady who owned the original 1895 example, I cheated and also added a base layer of nude tulle to help smooth out the laced-up silhouette.

The overall construction process was the same as Helga: quilted the ribbon panels across the boned panels before covering and sandwiching them, and inserting the bones from the side to allow for for hem stitching.

To finish, another ivory powder-coated busk and stitched over eyelets for security.

References:

Underwear Fashion in Detail, 2010, Eleri Lynn

Corsets - Historical Patterns & Techniques, 2008, Jill Salen

Corsets & Crinolines, 2017, Norah Waugh

1895 Ribbon Corset, V&A - https://collections.vam.ac.uk/item/O138887/corset-unknown/

How To Make A Basic Ribbon Corset, Sidney Eileen - http://sidneyeileen.com/sewing-2/sewing/corset-making/basic-ribbon/

An Edwardian Ribbon Corset, History Wardrobe - https://historywardrobe.wordpress.com/2014/04/10/an-edwardian-ribbon-corset/

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Gym Bitch

Maddy was nervous about her first day at the gym. She was very self conscious about her body and how overweight she was. She wanted to loose weight for years but had never had the confidence to join a gym. She just knew that there would be men and women there in peak physical form who would look at her with disgust.

The only thing that convinced her this time to actually take the plunge was this guarantee this new gym that opened near her had. Alpha Gym promised weight loss after one session or money back. Maddy didn’t really believe that it could work but she couldn’t turn down an offer like that.

However as she stepped across the gym floor and she felt the eyes on her, judging her, she was regretting taking the gym up on their offer. It didn’t help that the outfit the gym provided to her as part of her membership was too small for her but it was a requirement for attending the gym.

“Ok just 30 minutes and then I can leave. Come on Maddy you can do this.” She said to herself trying to pump herself up. She started small by picking up some light weights and doing arm curls. Each rep felt good. Even better than good. Her body felt tingly as she did more.

“Yessss keep going, you’ll be looking great in no time.” A voice in her head whispered. She didn’t know where it came from but she was too much in the zone to care. Nor did she notice the weight practically drop off her by the minute.

She was so distracted that the only thing that broke her from her excercise was her alarm going off, signalling 30 minutes had past. Stopping her routine she put the weights back and did a double take in the mirror seeing how much weight she had just lost.

“Oh my god! I look so much better already. How is this possible?” She said to herself as she turned to see how more defined her body now was. It wasn’t anywhere near the same as the gym bunnies surrounding her but it was far better than when she walked in.

Satisfied with her progress, she picked up her bag to leave. However as she made for the door she heard the voice inside her head return. “You can’t stop now, think of how much hotter you could be in another 30 minutes.”

Almost in a trance Maddy found herself nodding in agreement and walk back onto the gym floor and head for a treadmill.

Maddy hopped on the treadmill, feeling a mix of determination and excitement. Her inner voice was urging her on, fueling her with newfound motivation. She started with a brisk walk, feeling the burn in her legs and the sweat forming on her forehead. The minutes flew by as she gradually increased the speed.

"You've got this, Maddy! Push yourself a little more don’t you want to be hot? Don’t you want to be desired?" The voice encouraged, becoming her cheerleader. And she did just that. Maddy increased the intensity, transitioning from a walk to a jog. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, her body responding to the challenge.

Maddy continued her intense workout on the treadmill, the voice in her head growing more persistent, its tone filled with a desire for sex appeal and power. It whispered seductively, "Imagine how irresistible you'll be with a tight, slim body. People will fall at your feet, granting you the power to do whatever you want."

Her pulse quickened, not just from the physical exertion but also from the intoxicating idea of possessing such influence. The vision of a transformed, beautiful version of herself fueled her determination. As she pushed harder on the treadmill, her body began to slim down once again, but not everything. Her breasts started to instead grow larger, fuller and rounder. They hung on her frame perfectly. Her butt grew more curvaceous and plump.

Maddy stepped off the treadmill, her heart still racing with excitement and a newfound sense of power as she looked at herself in the mirror. She couldn't deny the thrill that coursed through her veins, nor the allure of the confidence that beauty seemed to bestow upon her. She took a long while looking at her reflection.

The gym clothes she had lamented just an hour ago as too tight now clung to her body perfectly. Her butt and tits filled out the outfit like a dream and she giggled to herself as she cheekily slapped one of her ass cheeks, loving how it jiggled. She now looked better than she even had done before and yet as she saw all the gym bunnies around her either flirt with the hunky gym bros or be their objects of desired, she suddenly craved more.

"I want that power," Maddy whispered to herself, her voice echoing in her mind. She craved the ability to command attention, to have her desires met effortlessly, and to shape her own destiny.

She spent the next few hours trying every machine in the building. Each new exercise improved her physically, in ways she expected and in many ways she didn’t. She never knew exercise could give her long manicured nails or could tan her skin or could thicken and lighten her hair but by the time she was done for the day she had all that and more.

Each new change was met by the voice in her head twisting her ideals, her attitude and her desires.

“Sexy nails for a sexy bitch. Designed to sink into a muscular back.”

“Imagine how good your body will be in a swimsuit on a beach? You’ll have men flocking to you.”

“Blonde hair is eye catching, not invisible like brown. A well timed hair flick can be alluring and bratty at the same time.”

She posed for a long time in the mirror, marvelling at how good she looked. If she knew it could be this easy she would have gone years ago. In fact a growing resentment was growing in her mind for the woman she used to be and all women like her.

“Dumb fat whales like you used to be are pathetic losers who will never amount to anything. You’re so much better than them.” The voice hissed in her head. Maddy felt like she should argue with the voice but the results spoke for themselves. She was now a goddess, it’s not her fault if everyone else couldn’t get on her level.

“Fucking idiots don’t deserve what I have.” Maddy said to herself in a bitchy tone.

A rising level of arrogance enveloped her the longer she took in her reflection. Her idea of self worth was through the roof as she took selfie after selfie. Maybe she would even do a workout video tomorrow to show all the fattys how easy it was to be hawt. Or maybe she would make a video shaming them. She couldn’t wait for the attention.

As she packed up her things and made her way to the door she took out her swipe card and nearly wretched at the image of herself that was laminated on. Turning back she marched up to reception.

“How can I help you miss?” The pretty receptionist asked.

“Something screwed up when you guys made my gym ID, I want to use a new picture.” Maddy said in a bitchy tone that dropped with bratty attitude. The receptionist took the ID and looked at the picture.

“Of course miss, this is unacceptable. Let me take another picture right now.” The woman said and Maddy posed effortlessly, the camera loving her.

“Stunning. I’ll make that change right away miss. Would you like to make any other changes?” The receptionist asked. Maddy was about to say no when the voice in her heard offered a hot suggestion.

“Yes. My first name should be Madison, not that childish Maddy as it currently says.” Madison said with a smirk to herself. Even on her own lips the name sounded perfect. The receptionist made the changes and handed Madison the new ID.

Madison strolled out of the gym finally for the first time in hours obsessed with her new ID. She felt like a new woman and was for intents and purposes. She was so distracted she walked right into someone. Looking up annoyed she saw it was a larger woman in workout gear about to head inside to the gym.

“Watch where you’re going fatty.” She snarled at the poor woman.

“I-I’m sorry I didn’t see you.” She woman sheepishly replied.

“I’m surprised you can see anything over that fucking gut of yours. Haha are you actually going into the gym? Nice try loser but there’s no cure for what you have so why don’t you run away home and eat the ice cream that’s most definitely in your freezer. This is my gym bitch and I don’t want to see pigs like you around.” Madison said with venom that even surprised herself.

She thought for a fleeting moment that she may have gone to far but as the other woman’s eyes welled up with tears and she ran back to her car, Madison felt an wave of of immense pleasure was over her. She was the gym bitch now and it felt good.