#I get into this routine where I start a playlist thinking... this is just for fun

[ladybeug]

Alright so

It has been about 24 hours since i finished @peachcitts fanfiction metamorphosis and i spent at least 3 of those hours making a fanmix.

Listen, Im sorry, this is just who I am, Im someone who wants to make a playlist about a specific iteration of ml characters. Especially if there are some grey morals up in there.

read the fic, listen to the fanmix, follow me under the cut thats where the party is

...and by party I mean analytical summary of each song.

I'm about to talk about some of these choices I made in depth, as a treat for myself. An indulgence. I'll keep the fic references high level but there may be some theme/tone spoilers so real talk go read the fic and meet me back here.

@peachcitt I know I tagged you but this will get long you do not have to read it or acknowledge this homage just know I appreciated your story and thought a lot about it.

so.

the whole playlist is meant to be listened to start to finish, its half the tragedy and half the hard work to get your life right side up and the rewards.

I actively tried not to put Cry for Judas on here and i did ANYWAYS

its on so many of my playlists already, I'm loose with this song. But frankly if i could only keep it on one I would keep it on here. I mean I just don't think any other adrien iterations do things just to see how bad they'll make him feel QUITE like this one and i just HAD to have that as the first line of lyrics in the playlist.

I'm just also obsessed with sad and angry, can't learn how to behave?? The tragic acceptance of being unable to be good??

find me a better match. this song had to be on here and it had to be first.

Your Ghost - this might be the only song thats only about Marinette which is a crime because I really connected with her pov but the truth is that this is an adrien fanmix and i need to accept that.

But for real the acceptance but inability to move on in this song is just perfect.

Can't Lose - maybe the angriest song on here? A little angrier than I was going for but I had to keep this one though because, I mean, "I'm thinking I can't move if there isn't somewhere else to go?" like, the, 'sure what im doing is bad but what else IS there' of it, I mean, what can I even say. It had to be on here.

If you only listen to one song on here listen to Animal Mask.

It's a song about partners in a wrestling match written as a metaphor for when John Darnielle's wife was in labor, and its so tender and sweet, and frankly it sounds like it could have been written for metamorphosis for like every single flashback of ladybug and chat noir.

I could quote every line and be like 'this is them' but like, 'hold on,' I cried, 'I'll be right there', pulled your mask down through your hair. they won't see you, not until you want them to. What am I supposed to say?? It moves me deeply I'm having emotional problems please come join me. Every other song on this playlist doesn't matter.

Anyways intermission, while we're here, let me share this experience that I had today with you:

I did then proceed to count, was appropriately ashamed that about 25% of the playlist was mountain goats, and extremely painfully chose to remove 'oceanographer's choice'.

[tangent about Oceanographers Choice vs Haunted House]

As obsessed as I am with going straight from the unbearably tender memory in animal mask to oceanographer's choice, first line: "well, guy in a skeleton costume, walks up to a guy in a superman suit, runs through him with a broadsword", the anxious switch in music, and then straight into a song about a fucked up guy fighting the woman he is still complicatedly in love with.... and he doesn't know how else to be....

oh no, listen, as I typed that I half convinced myself to add it back in again

but I won't because I even more love the transit of animal mask to the shrill and tense line in Haunted House, "I was buried in the summer, all those parties ago", and then a confused and hysterical song about dissociation and loss of control in a world where nobody seems connected to what you're going through. The tone is more ungrounded, and scared, and less resigned. Which matches what I was going for - I tried to avoid songs that were just like... "yeah i'm evil >:) thats my identity"

[end tangent]

Little Pistol I feel like I barely have to justify, but I will say what really sold me is the reference to 'I want what's best for me, and I think I know just what that means'. But then also the slight change in tune at the end? Delicious?

The Run and Go, just read the fic ok

I Wanna Get Better is one that honestly feels like it doesn't fit perfectly but I'm really drawn to a sharp turning point in the playlist from 'bad and spiraling' to 'desperately clawing my way up' which is how reading the fic felt at a certain point, and this song feels like the perfect tonal shift and has the end-of-a-movie screaming conviction that I want. Its also just so good

Do it Anyways might be the second most important song... third most important? on this fanmix. The frantic, panicky music matched with the unwavering conviction to improvement is so unmatched honestly and if we're talking about how hard it is to be your best when you feel your worst, oh my god. Read the fic, listen at 2:44 and meet me back here and there's nothing else I even need to say

Absolute Lithops Effect.... I tricked you, this is also a mountain goats song :) its a cover though so I'm not counting it.

This is one of the most beautiful songs about hope for the future and growth that I know its very important to me. The title of the playlist comes from this song. Here's what you need to know about it:

Lithops are these:

They grow so slowly they don't look like they're growing at all. But they are.

Love Love Love: Ugh don't talk to me about love love love. I'm not going to explain how this connects to the fic. It does, I'm right. There's nothing I can say about this that can't be said better by Mr. Mountain Goats himself:

"The point of the song is, you know, that we are fairly well damaged by the legacy of the Romantic poets--that we think of love as this, you know, thing that is accompanied by strings and it's a force for good, and if something bad happens then that's not love. And the therapeutic tradition that I come from--I used to work in therapy--you know, also says that it's not love if it feels bad. I don't know so much about that. I don't know that the Greeks weren't right. I think they were--that love can eat a path through everything--that it will destroy a lot of things on the way to its own objective, which is just its expression of itself, you know. I mean, my stepfather loved his family, right? Now he mistreated us terribly quite often, but he loved us. And, you know, well, that to me is something worth commenting on in the hopes of undoing a lot of what I perceive as terrible damage in the way people talk about this--love is this benign, comfortable force. It's not that. It's wild, you know?" — NPR interview with Linda Wertheimer, 14 May 2005

Metamorphosis: okay this one I added to make myself laugh but I also stand by it thematically

SUPERBLOOM: Don't we all deserve a little celebration for the hard work we do?

Anyways this is my fanmix, if you read to here I love you and you're welcome for all the mountain goats songs I peeled off of here that I didn't even tell you about. I didn't even put heel turn 2 on here. Whoops ok now i've told you about that one.

#I get into this routine where I start a playlist thinking... this is just for fun #its just for me #i love to have a fanmix it will be a fun project for me to express and create and reinterpret #and organize and sort #and then i spend so long on it and think so hard about each song and the order and the tone #that it becomes a piece of art im attached to and then i want to share it even though its SO NICHE ITS ALWAYS SO NICHE im so sorry to do th #im doing it though #Spotify #anyways thank you for humoring me sorry to everyone #this is so long and uncalled for (except by me im calling so much)

[prozach27]

.

#I feel like I’m starting this quarter off strong #got super organized + was proactive about making a meeting with my advisor to see how I can catch up #and have been good about substances which like I haven’t bad about for a little while but I like to monitor #I’ve been proactive with making meetings and organizing my calendar / making a routine #plus bought a daily planner so I can map out my weeks and check in each morning briefly #it almost feels repetitive given my virtual task list BUT with this specifically I can visually see my free time #and after my schedule settles down week 2 I can use that to set aside daily skill development time #I get too hyper fixated on something and then it falls apart #so I think I’m gonna devote one to two hours each day to a different activity #make up / painting / writing / coding / guitar #one activity for each weekday #and then weekends are a free for all #ALSO #I was reading up on my postdoc opportunity in Germany and it got me REALLY REALLY MOTIVATED #to the point I ended up scouting 2022’s top deutsch pop and found a bunch of songs I love #so now I have a new German playlist to get me in the zone #I’ve been taking daily pimsleur lessons and the new Duolingo revamp has been highly motivating too #and like 10x more educational #the goal is for me to get through 30 lessons of pimsleur by the end of the quarter which means like one lesson every 2-3 days #idk I just am reaching a point where it’s time to begin living life and growing #I may not be who I want yet but this skill development is part of putting in the work #and along with weight loss is going to make me such a better more well rounded person #I’m feeling REALLY motivated about all this!!! AND talked to my doc and we made a lil med adjustment to help with focus #so I’m feeling like the sky’s the limit #add that to my new daily skincare routine and I’m feeling really well put together #I think this quarter’s gonna end up being amazing. 2023 is 100% gonna be my year

[renku]

Up and Under

TWICE Chou Tzuyu x Male Reader

Sitting and staring nowhere in the middle of the park, holding a cup of coffee that went cold from that old vending machine nearby, and the freezing evening wind has no effect at all in your current state—high on adrenaline and it looks like it’d take an hour or two before it subsides in your system.

“This must remain just between us. Got it?”

Each word kept playing again and again in your head, like the same lyrics from the song five years ago that’s still not leaving your playlist. Not to mention how Chou Tzuyu—yes, the idol—whispered those words with her sexy yet cute voice along with a warm breath inducing goosebumps; from the back of your neck spreading down to your legs. You even started to question your reality. Did that really happen?

Everything that happened today was messed up, or to be exact, fucked up. But wait, how did you even get to this situation by the way?

It was about noon, and the usual routine at work is to take a break empty space upstairs before Inkigayo broadcast starts. Landing a job at a place like this isn’t something you thought of but there’s no much options on your hand, so here you are. The spot is usually silent since most are out to get their lunch. Lately, you prefer taking a nap up there since a bench is available. It’s crucial for you to have that time alone for yourself. One hour of freedom to collect your shit again is enough to get through to the rest of the shift. Work itself is already draining, but dealing with people is another.

The pace of your steps is increasing yet you still try not to make a sound. I should hurry before surviving another four hours of work, you thought. Getting closer to your so-called sanctuary, this is when things started to take a turn—a complete hundred and eighty turn.

It made you stop, and carefully listen again to make sure it’s not your head playing games at you.

“Yes— Hmm... Ah~”

You’re not definitely hearing things. It’s definitely a moan. A woman’s moan on top of that. She’s really into it; given how she lets out all those moans like no one will hear her and not giving a single damn.

Forget the nap, going back should be the immediate course action in this kind of situation. But, being a man and curiosity got the best of you.

“I shouldn’t be doing this, shit,” you whispered.

Taking extremely careful steps—almost tiptoeing, making that one, tempting peek. Lifted black skirt, fingerless-gloved right hand holding onto the handle for support, and probably her other hand doing the job. It’s quite difficult to recognize who she is since her loose, black hair covered the side of her face and a tent is already forming inside your pants. Each second that passes corresponds to the moans getting shorter and shorter, hinting that she’s close to that release.

“UGH! OH- YES, YES, OH FUCKKK!”

She threw head back, exposing the side of her face.

“Is that... Tzuyu?!” For a moment, you couldn’t move a muscle. Chou Tzuyu, who is known to be pure, kind, lovely, and innocent idol for years. Yet here she is, masturbating and made herself cum.

Your feet went cold stunned by what you just witnessed. Tzuyu then turned her head to where you are like she knew you were there all along, and not showing any sign of surprise at all when both of your eyes met. She's insanely fucking beautiful.

After fixing herself up and the mess she made, Tzuyu went right away to you. “This must remain just between us. Got it? Everything.” she whispered, then grabbed your hard member; fingers making random movements, playing with your already leaking rod making you jolt before adding, “Why don't you come here again next time? Same place, same time then maybe we can do some interesting things, don't you think?”

Does she even hear herself? How could she willingly say those words to someone she never knew her whole life. You can only nod to whatever she'll say, truth be told. The fact that a goddess like her is standing next to you is unreal.

“I got to go now, bye!” she said, winking and waving as she went on her way.

Back at the present—after reminiscing everything that happened all you could think of was, “I need to find a new job immediately.”

A/N: Hi. Ren (new name, can’t remember my old one) here. Plotless fic and not stuffed with much details to make it “smutty” enough, I just want to get the gist of writing again after not being able to make a stable progress after leaving the platform for about a year. So yeah, not much but I hope it will spark my enjoyment of writing again.

#smut #kpop smut #tzuyu #chou tzuyu #twice #twice smut

[hottestvirgin]

𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐄𝐃𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌 | 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐖𝐎𝐍𝐁𝐈𝐍

what started with matching with your best friend’s older brother on tinder lead to countless weekend nights of sneaking into his bedroom.

warnings(17+). mentions of anton and sex.

it wasn’t supposed to happen. you had tried to convince yourself that a million times til’ it started sounding like a broken record. matching with your best friend’s older brother on tinder wasn’t supposed to happen, and it was not coincidental.

you had created a tinder account just to see what type of men you’d realistically be able to pull and after a few swipes, left and right, you and wonbin have liked each other.

you and him were a match. your stomach churned when realization hit, staring at his profile in shock.

well.. it was him. his name printed brightly on your screen with his age next to it. that same fine, blonde-haired man in the pictures who had a few of his interests listed down below. shopping, guitar, dancing.

you had wondered if his thumb hovered over the send a message icon like yours had that night. you’ve always found wonbin attractive, physically and his personality.

but a part of you felt guilty every time anton came into mind when you’d think about your feelings for wonbin. how would you even be able to explain that you matched with his brother on tinder.. or that you were on tinder in the first place.

but that lingering thought didn’t seem to go far because you both ended up clicking the button and began chatting, bonding over the mere coincidence of you both finding each other on a dating app.

and ever since that night, you’ve been hooking up with him. it was hard going to the brothers’ shared apartment just for wonbin, so you had made a routine.

weekly hangouts. meaning you and anton would watch movies or play games every weekend until he fell asleep, and you’d sneak into wonbin’s bedroom.

you felt the couch dip next to you, “don’t eat up all the popcorn.” anton told you, sitting criss-crossed as he playfully snatched the bowl of popcorn from your arms.

“then pee faster next time.” you told him, clicking play on the horror movie you both had started earlier.

it was getting late and as time continued to pass, you could sense anton’s tiredness. he would doze off next to you, head falling back occasionally.

you’d wait for the right opportunity to help him lie down and pull the blanket you shared with him onto his body entirely. you wouldn’t need it anyway because you were already heading down the hallway to wonbin’s door.

you could hear faint music playing, probably playing from his late night playlist. you twist the doorknob slowly, walking into his room.

wonbin’s on his bed, putting stickers on his guitar when he met your eyes, a small smile immediately creeping onto his lips.

without saying anything, you watched as he peeled back a sticker, sticking it onto his electric guitar. something about the image of him with the guitar had turned you on even more.

you remembered all the times where he would sit you down and play his guitar for you, showing you different songs he learned how to play.

“you need something?” wonbin asked, applying pressure to the sticker once more before giving you his full attention. he had that stupid smile on his face and it took everything in you not to kiss it off of him.

“nope. just wanted to say goodnight.” you shrugged your shoulders and turned on your heels to leave but he cleared his throat.

“i was just playing,” wonbin chuckled again, pushing his guitar from his lap, “c’mere.” your stomach churned at his words and you immediately hauled at him, taking a seat on his lap and wrapping your arms around his neck.

“i missed you.” you admitted. and it was almost instant how he pulled you into a kiss. your lips were soft against his, pillowy as his fingers lingered on your waist.

you missed him; his smell, his touch, his scent, his voice, everything.

warmth blossomed in your chest again, and again. and when he pulled away to look at you, the warmth consumed your entire body. “show me how much you missed me.” he told you.

and you did. because in an instant, you were on top of him, gripping onto his shoulders as you rode his cock as if it would be the last time you’d ever see him.

he was soooo deep in you, hitting spots you’d never imagine. you could feel him in your stomach and each movement of your hips had wonbin whimpering underneath you, fingers digging into your waist with hitched breaths.

your mind is so fuzzy that all you can think about is how much he’s stretching your dripping cunt and getting filled to the brim with his cum. wonbin’s mouth is agape, silent moans falling past his lips that’s glistening with his drool.

“bounce.. make me cum.” he mewled, biting back his bottom lip, eyes never leaving your squinted ones. planting your feet into the mattress, you comply with his request, clenching around him hard, bouncing on his cock and earning more whimpers from him.

he looked so pretty— collarbones more prominent from his heavy breathing, cheeks red with some of his blonde bangs sticking onto his forehead. it was so hard to stay quiet knowing that your best friend was sleeping just down the hallways but how could you stay quiet when he’s filling you so deliciously?

“feels so good.. sososo good.” you groaned quietly, and wonbin nuzzled his face into your sweaty neck, that familiar knot in his stomach struggling not to snap. “k-keep using me. fuck, keep fucking me.” he moaned, sucking pretty little marks onto your neck.

the desperation in his voice was enough to push you over the edge. “wonbin.. m’ cumming..” you moaned, you’re hips stuttered as your walls spasmed around him, body shaking as you cream all over his cock.

it felt as if the earth shattered on its axis from how hard your orgasm hit you, and your body goes numb while you catch your breath. wonbin pulled your body into his arms, thrusting into your limp body to chase his own orgasm.

drinking in your trembling form, body shaking with small whines, wonbin couldn’t hold back anymore. “s’good, f-fuck, i’m close..” he whined, body stilling. and he spills his load into your aching cunt.

both of you stayed like that for a while. and you couldn’t help but thank tinder for getting you the best dick in your life.

a/n. very short very simple.. yeah

#hottestvirginwrites #smut #kpop smut #riize hard thoughts #riize hard hours #riize smut #wonbin #wonbin x reader #wonbin x you #wonbin smut #park wonbin smut #wonbin drabbles #riize x reader

[giginings]

dress - h.yj

warnings: slight fluff, angst, smut, best friends to strangers to lovers, slowburn (?), drinking, honestly reader and yunjin are both gay drunk and in love, not proofread

nsfw warnings: dom!g!p!yunjin, sub!reader, oral, breast play, slight degradation (ex: slut, whore), dumbification, drunk sex, p in v, unprotected sex (WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT), she finishes inside, implication of aftercare

playlist: dress — taylor swift

word count: 3k (3,047)

from daphne: MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONEEEE

Being friends with Huh Yunjin was a blessing and somehow a hell of a curse at the same time. She was sweet, delicate, caring and absolutely beautiful. The kind of girl anyone would want. Perfect material for a best friend, and thankfully, she was yours. You wouldn’t trade it for the world.

However, being around while she had to gently reject handfuls of guys was petrifying to witness, feeling the embarrassment for whoever was brave enough to ask the girl out. You didn’t understand it, it wasn’t like anyone who had confessed to her wasn’t good looking, but whenever you’d ask she’d simply reply with “Why would I date them when I have you?”

And every time you’d have to push down the butterflies that would appear in your stomach.

All throughout high school, the two of you did almost everything together. There was nothing that either of you didn’t know about the other. For example, you knew that her English name was Jennifer. So, from that point on, she was always Jennifer, or Jen, or Jeni. Oddly enough, she didn’t seem to like anyone else calling her that but you.

No one ever saw the two of you apart, and if you were, you’d spend the time apart calling or texting. You were forever Huh Yunjin’s best friend and she was forever your best friend. That’s how it was.

Until it wasn’t.

It was junior year, and instead of seeing her by her locker, one foot planted on it, headphones on, she wasn’t there. No biggie, she’s probably just running late. She wasn’t. She had arrived perfectly on time with some girls you hadn’t known, and honestly they looked like they would chew you up and spit you out if you had even come close to them. But, no one was going to stop you from talking to your best friend, so you pushed down your fears and made your way over.

The silence as the 5 of you blankly stared at the other was deafening, but you walked over there for a reason. “Uh…you weren’t waiting for me by your locker Jen, is there like, a specific reason why or…?” The other three girls looked at Yunjin expectantly. Your best friend looked you up and down, her gaze a bit condescending. “Do you expect me to be there everyday waiting for you to get here? I don’t have time for that, you know. I have classes to get to.”

Her tone caught you off guard, she had never acted this way toward you. “No, I just— I thought it had become like our routine now.” You had originally expected a response from Yunjin until one of the girls beside her started to speak in her place. “So what, now she can’t hang out with other people? She has other friends, ___.”

You didn’t know what to say. Looking at all of their faces, and then Yunjin’s…it was probably best for you to just go.

It had been a month. 4 weeks. 28 days since you and Yunjin had talked.

You two shared quick glances at each other in the halls while you each rushed to your respective classes, but it wasn’t enough. Even your parents had started asking you where she was, and why she hadn’t come by recently. Nothing was the same without her. Everyday you silently hoped that she would be by your locker like she used to be, and she never was. And you were starting to think she wouldn’t be, ever again.

Huh Yunjin is so mean. So, so mean.

That was what you said to yourself as your head rested on the cold metal of the locker.

Quickly being brought back to reality by your newfound friend, Chaeryeong, you turned your head in her direction to be met with an expression of pity on her face that you so didn’t want.

“___, you really have to figure things out. Either talk to her and rekindle your friendship, or don’t and never speak to each other again. Take your pick, babe.” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, she told you this every other day.

“Chaer, seriously, I’ll talk to her soon!” You heard a scoff from the girl beside you.

“Yeah, right. You say that every time. When is ‘soon’, ___?”

With that, she walked away and left you to wallow in your thoughts. At this point you really should just give up. You and Yunjin would never be friends again.

“…What’s up with you?”

Despite the tone of their voice, you were oddly excited to hear it. Turning around to see the redheaded girl before you, the magnifying smile on your face was basically impossible to hide. “Jen!” She’d give you a slight smile back, not showing nearly as much teeth as you did. “Hi, ___.” You’d switch between standing on the ball and heel of your feet, clearly exciting to be talking to her after so long.

“So, um, what did you need?” She’d peek behind you, and then meet your eyes again. “I, just, um,” —she’d point her finger, and you’d turn to look in the direction of her index, “need to get to my locker.”

Oh.

You had never been more embarrassed in your life.

“Oh! Oh, yeah, sorry.” You’d quickly mutter, moving to the side so she could get her stuff. You felt so entirely stupid. Of course she wasn’t there for you, why in God’s name would she be there for you? The slam of her locker closing brought you back to reality as she gave you a quick wave and strutted down the hallway. Your eyes made sure to follow her the whole time.

The shrill sound of the bell that rang throughout the hall let you know it was time for class, and as you walked towards Chemistry, you prayed that the rest of the day wouldn’t be as…humiliating.

That was years ago.

After high school, the two of you went to different universities and never really saw each other again. Right now, you found yourself thinking of her again. Was it anything new? No. It wasn’t like you had anything better to do though, considering you were sitting alone by the bar of the club Chaeryeong had dragged you to against your will. As your best friend was busy backing it up against some random, you sat swirling your drink in it’s cup. You never really were one for clubs or bars anyway. Too loud.

It reeked of marijuana and alcohol, and the body heat that was radiating from the drunken, pervy guys around you began to get suffocating. There was no fucking way you could stay any longer than you already had. Paying for your drink and texting Chaeryeong to let her know you were leaving, you swiftly got up and made your way to the door before feeling a warm but firm grip on your arm. Obviously you were extremely frightened, ready to uppercut punch whoever was crazy enough to grab you until you realized it was a very, very familiar face.

“Yunjin?”

That was all you could force out of your mouth, your expression laced with confusion. She still had that same charming smile. The girl seemed to have barely gotten any older, but you couldn’t say you expected her to. “Hey. You probably weren’t expecting to see me here, were you?” You realized that you actually were really happy that she was there, a smile finding it’s way onto your face. “No, I— I can’t say that I did, actually. But, I am glad that we’re talking again.”

“Yeah, me too. Are you here with anyone, or…?” You shook your head in response. “Uh, I was, but I was just about to leave. Clubs aren’t really my thing, y’know?” Yunjin silently agreed with a nod, taking a sip of her drink. “Yeah, they aren’t really mine either. I’m here with my friend, Chaewon. She should be…somewhere over there?” The redhead pointed her finger towards the dance floor where you saw who you assumed to be Chaewon swaying her hips to the music, drink in hand.

“Well, she looks like she’s having the time of her life.” You say, turning your attention back towards Yunjin.

She chuckled in agreement, doing a once-over of your face. “You still look as good as ever, y’know?”

Oh?

“Really?” You said in response, looking down into your cup. “Really.” You mentally cursed yourself for blushing so easily, the pink tint that painted your face getting harder to conceal. Looking back up at her, your eyes met her hazel ones. “You aren’t too bad yourself, Jen.” Her grin grew wider, tongue poking the inside of her cheek. The taller girl looked up, scanning the club before setting her drink down on the table.

“So, you said you were on your way out before I caught you, right?”

You nodded in response.

She grinned, opening her mouth once more to say, “I don’t really have the desire to stay here much longer either, so maybe we both could leave? Like, together?”

“…Sure.”

The kiss that the two of you shared was heated, her hands frantically roaming your body before reaching to help you take off your jacket. The article of clothing was quickly discarded, being thrown across Yunjin’s living room and forgotten. Everything about this was sloppy, and rushed. As if you both had been waiting for this since forever. The girl made quick work of having you up against the wall, her knee slotted in-between your thighs. Her teeth nipped your bottom lip, eliciting a whimper out of you.

Her lips started to trail down to your neck, suckling on the tender skin and leaving behind a purple bruise. Your hands made their way to the hem of her shirt, tugging it up. “Off, want it off.” You muttered, and she scrambled to tug her crop top over her head before treating it the same she did with your jacket. Her cold but gentle fingers played with the hem of your jeans, teasing you ever so slightly.

Pulling away from the kiss to catch her breath, your lips chased her own as a string of saliva connected the two of you together. “Needy little thing, aren’t you, Angel?” She’d say, tugging your pants past your thighs along with your underwear. Running a finger up your slit, you gasped from the sudden contact. “Fuck, you’re drenched. Who’s this for, baby?” The pet name went straight down to your cunt, clenching around nothing at her words. “You, only for you, Jen,” you managed to whimper out.

You felt her lips surround your aching clit, a gasp slipping past your mouth. Her tongue swirled around the bud, your eyes meeting her own. The pink muscle trailed down to your hole, her nose pressing against your clit. She made sure to keep eye contact with you as she tongue-fucked your entrance. A lewd moan emitted from you, pleasure spreading throughout your body. You notice her straining against her jeans, and you can’t help but whimper as you imagine her cock stretching you out.

She pulls away from your cunt only to mutter something about how sweet you taste, before going back to devouring your pussy. Her hand trails up to rub your clit, pinching it ever so slightly and you yelp in response. “Jen— feels so fucking good, please—“ You didn’t quite know what you were begging for, but it was like she understood you perfectly. She licks a long strip up your slit, sending shivers down your spine. Your thighs threaten to close around her head, but her hands quickly force them back open. You could feel yourself getting close, and Yunjin read you like a book. “You gonna cum? Go ahead, make a mess in my mouth, angel.”

She quickly pressed the pad of her thumb into your clit, instantly sending you over the edge. You felt your orgasm rushing over you, the feeling a bit overwhelming. Coming down from your high, she pressed a gentle kiss against your bud, making you shiver in response. Standing back up on her feet, her chin and lips glistened with your juices. The redheaded girl pulled you in for a kiss, a mewl eliciting from you as you tasted yourself on her tongue. She’d lift you up, carrying you to her couch and gently setting you down, her lips never leaving yours even for a second. Tugging your shirt up over your head and unclipping your bra, the girl bent down to suckle on your breasts, slightly pinching your other nipple. You whimpered slightly, reaching down to unbutton her jeans. She’d chuckle in response. “Impatient, are we?”

“Don’t tease, Jen. Need you, right now.” You said with glossy eyes, desperate for her to fuck you. Yunjin would do the rest of the work for you, pulling her hardened cock out of her boxers. Realizing how big it really was, you couldn’t help but bite down on your lower lip, feeling yourself get even wetter. Aligning herself up with your entrance, she’d tease your hole with her tip. “Gonna go in now, ‘kay?” You’d nod. Slowly, she’d push herself into you, hissing at the warmth of your cunt. Your mouth fell open at the feeling of her cock, the sting mixing in with the pleasure. “Goddamn, you’re tight— gonna fuckin’ split this pussy open, baby.” She’d say through gritted teeth.

Slowly starting to thrust into you, she let you adjust to the stretch. At first, it stung just the slightest bit, but then the pain left as soon as it came and left you wanting more. “Need you to go faster, Jen…” You heard her curse under her breath at that. “Faster? Okay, then.” She started to fuck you faster and harder, an almost pornographic moan sounding throughout the room from you. Her hand reaches up and rolls your nipple in between her fingers. “Fuckin’ love these tits, baby.” You whine at that, your fingers reaching to intertwine with her own.

Her movements speed up, hips thrusting into you even faster than before. The lewd sound of skin slapping against skin and the squelching of your pussy every time she fucked into you spurred Yunjin on even more. “Look at you, creaming all on my dick. You’re a slutty girl, aren’t you?” At this point, you were entirely gone, only focused on the feeling of her cock pounding your cunt. “Yesyesyes, only for you, Jeni!” Your nails dug into her hand as she reached to hike your legs over her shoulders, allowing her to drill into you even harder. You let out a choked moan, feeling her reach just the right spot. Tears started to well up in your eyes, the pleasure getting overwhelming. “That feel good? You like how I fuck you, baby?” You’ve been rendered completely senseless, not even able to form coherent sentences anymore. She’s left you completely a mess, your lipstick smudged, mascara streaking down your cheeks.

“Gonna fill this pussy up, make you all mine. Bet you’d like that, right? Want me to knock you up?” Yunjin’s totally pussydrunk off of you, saying whatever comes to mind at this point. She’s always had a liking to you, and you were completely oblivious to it. Until now, of course. You nod, agreeing with whatever she’s saying. Her words go through one ear and out the other, you can’t be bothered to listen. Not when she’s fucking you this good. “Yes, fill me up, Jen, want your cum, please!” She thrusts hard into you at that, hissing as you clench around her. “Fuck, squeezing my cock like a whore, baby—you gonna make a mess on this dick?” You can’t even reply, gaining a sinister grin from her. She knows she’s fucked you completely stupid. Your eyes practically roll to the back of your head, lips parted and swollen from you biting down on them. Everything was hazy for you, all your senses clouded and filled with her.

You both were sticky and hot and sweaty, and the room reeked of sex, but it wasn’t like either of you could be bothered to care. “Jeni, fuckfuck—“ Your nails dug into her arm, starting to draw blood. Yunjin bent down, suckling on your neck and collarbone. “Shh, it’s okay, cum for me, baby.” Instantly, everything seemed to go white. A broken cry left your mouth as you creamed all over Yunjin’s dick, her own orgasm following shortly after. The feeling was overwhelming, the girl’s thrusts getting softer and softer. The room was filled with pants and heavy breathing. The redhead sat back up to pull out of you, a whimper slipping past your lips. Yunjin watched as both of your juices mixed and spilled out of your cunt, muttering something under her breath. “Fuck, that’s so hot.”

Looking back up at you, the girl peppered kisses all over your face and neck, whispering small praises about how good you did for her and how proud she is. Brushing away strands of hair that stuck to your forehead, she’d smile slightly. You felt butterflies in your stomach, it was clear to see that she had nothing for you but love. “You okay? You wanna take a shower?” Returning the smile back at her, you found it funny how different this Yunjin was from the one you saw just moments before. You definitely weren’t complaining though, you loved both sides of her. “Yes, I’m amazing, Jeni. And yes, I’d love a shower. I think we’d both benefit from taking one.” You said with a slight chuckle.

Nodding in agreement, she’d pick you up bridal style and plant a small kiss to your lips. “Shower it is, then.” You suddenly held a finger up, making her pause. “But, I think we can wait a few, right? Right now, I think we should just…stay here.” Grinning down at you, she’d nod and set you back down. “That is completely fine with me too.”

If you expected to end the night any way at all, it wasn’t to be wrapped up in Huh Yunjin’s arms, but it wasn’t like you’d have it any other way.

“There is an indentation in the shape of you

Made your mark on me, a golden tattoo„

#yunjin x reader #le sserafim x reader #yunjin smut #huh yunjin #le sserafim smut #le sserafim #huh yunjin smut #lsfm smut #kpop gg smut #yunjin smau

[runningfrom2am]

cold nights // part six

summary: all the stars aligned, and it was you.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 2.7k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, r is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.

a/n: i just finished writing s1, and we're halfway through! so in case anyone was wondering, s1 will have 12 parts :) i haven't started s2 yet but i am so excited to!!

series masterlist // playlist

Days passed, no sign of Coryo. The only reason you know he isn't dead is because Sejanus came and told you he would be alright. That didn't do much to quell your worries.

Selfishly, you were scared you wouldn't get to see him again. You knew you wouldn't, actually. Now you were truly alone. Just you and his blanket, the book he gave you, and the dress your mother made. And Sejanus Plinth, you supposed. None of the surviving tributes would even talk to you- not that you really felt like talking. Just reading. You've read and re-read Romeo and Juliet no less than three times since Coriolanus passed the book through the bars to you the night before you went into the arena.

"I know you asked for this, and it's a little early, but happy birthday." Coryo whispers, smiling as the dark of night encases the two of you into your own little world.

He hands you a small box, wrapped in parcel paper and complete with a ribbon made of some kind of knitting thread. You grin, taking it from his hand and carefully untying the bow, delicately pulling the paper apart where it's taped together so as not to rip it. A copy of Romeo and Juliet. Old, tattered, falling apart; well-loved.

"Oh, Coryo, you didn't have to give me anything. That's too sweet." You grin, immediately flipping through the pages despite the dark preventing you from seeing a single word. "Thank you."

"Of course." He says, watching only you as your eyes flick over the pages. What little light falls from the moon is reflected in your eyes, and he wouldn't dare look away.

"My bounty is as boundless as the sea, my love as deep; the more I give to thee, the more I have, for both are infinite." You say softly, and at first, he thinks you're talking to yourself until you look up at him. A small, almost shy smile fit perfectly onto your lips.

"You like it?" He asks, the answer obvious even to him.

"I love it."

You were his tribute. Not a friend, certainly not more, but as he reaches through the bars to let his fingers brush over your cheek all rational thought means nothing. He doesn't realize he's staring at your lips until you comment on it.

"Is this why you asked if I have a boyfriend?" You whisper, your natural smile returns, and he's quickly looking anywhere else. Your eyes, your hair, the spot where his fingertips meet your cheekbone just below your hairline. Anywhere else. "Because I know it wasn't on that list of questions."

He's quickly backtracking, dropping his hand. This was wrong and he knew it. "I, uh, Tigris made you some cake. It's not good, but it's the best we could do." He says, redirecting his attention to his bag as he pulls out the small paper bag.

You sit back, blushing furiously. "I'm sure it's delicious." You smile, and it comes across more nervously than you intended.

"Here." He hands it to you, and you gently place the book next to you on the ground so you don't get any crumbs on it. "I have to go. I'll see you tomorrow."

And just like that, he's gone.

You're grateful when you see Sejanus coming back with his bag of food and water. It had become some form of a routine, at this point. The citizens of the Capitol weren't allowed to bring you food anymore, he was the only one who did for you now that Coryo was gone, and now that his tribute had escaped as well.

"Sejanus." You smile, standing up as he gets closer.

"Y/N. Holding up okay?" He asks, a sad look behind his tired eyes. He looked almost as tired as you, you were sure, but you hadn't seen a mirror since you left your house before the reaping.

You sigh. "I'm holding up." You answer simply. Sejanus is the only person you feel comfortable being totally honest with, but at the same time, you don't want to because you know he already feels bad for what you're going through. He's the only one outside this cage who kind of understands. "How about you?"

"I'm alright." He shrugs, reaching into his bag and pulling out a sandwich for you. You could never get sick of these. "I also have salt, if it needs more of that." He hands you a small bag of table salt alongside it.

"Thank you." You grin, tucking the bag into your pocket incase you needed it. "Any news about Coryo?" You ask hopefully, taking a bite. You already feel your starvation-induced nausea fading away.

"Not really. He's recovering, though." Sejanus answers. "Are you ready for the interview tonight?"

"As ready as I'll ever be." You grin. "I was right, I didn't need the book. I already had the whole thing memorized, but it's been so lovely to get to read it again."

"It must be." He nods. "Gives you something to do."

You hum in agreement, looking around at the other tributes. No one is even moving much anymore. "Can I ask you something?"

"Anything."

You look down at your sandwich while you think about how you want to word this. "Is Coryo..." No, that's not it. "I got the feeling that he actually cared for me. Is that true?"

"Coryo has never been one to tell anyone what he's thinking." Sejanus says, entirely unhelpfully. That's not his fault, though. "But if I had to guess, I would say yes."

"I'm just wondering because it's nice to have friends now. Here. At the end." You smile sadly before taking another bite. "And I was worried I had upset him."

"You? No." Sejanus shakes his head. "I don't think you could if you tried."

"Why's that?"

"Well... It's hard to explain. He's always been super focused on school, on the prize, but now, when it matters most, I feel like he's more focused on you and making sure you actually win." He tells you. "But, like I said, he wouldn't talk about it even if I asked him outright."

You nod. "Thank you, Sejanus. For always being honest with me."

"Of course. It's the very least I can do, all things considered."

"Can I ask you for one more favour?" You ask hopefully. "If not I understand, you must be quite busy."

"I have the rest of my life to be busy." He shakes his head. "What do you need?"

"Will you tell Coryo thank you, for me?"

"Yes. Of course." He agrees without hesitation.

"And do you have a pencil and paper?"

Sejanus headed home for a while and then back to the hospital after his visit with you, armed with your note in his pocket to pass on to Coryo. He was hoping he would be awake right now, he had been so on and off the last few days. More grumpy than normal, and Sejanus could tell it was driving him up the wall that he couldn't go see you. But the interviews had already started, so he would get to see you soon- even if it's just through the screen.

"Tigris." He whispers, pulling back the curtain as he sees the familiar girl sitting at his friend's side. She hadn't left her cousin most of the time he'd been bedridden, she was there every time Sejanus checked in.

"Oh, hello." She whispers, smiling at him. "He's still resting, but he's feeling a bit better today I think."

"That's good. I'm glad to hear it." Sejanus agrees, taking the seat next to her. "I went to see Y/N. She's eaten. She doesn't look good, though."

Tigris nods, returning her gaze to her sleeping cousin and pushing his hair away from his eyes. It's not like he needs to see, but she would do it anyway. Just to make sure he wouldn't be annoyed when he woke up. "He's been worrying about her. I can tell."

"She asked me if she did something to upset him. Has he said anything to you?"

"No, nothing." She shakes her head, lip jutting out at the confusing statement. Nothing at all would indicate to her that he was upset with you, but it's entirely possible that stuck in that cage day in and day out you could quickly become paranoid about who you could trust.

"Okay, good. That's what I told her anyway." He tries to be quiet as he speaks, but the whispering wakes his friend anyway.

Coryo's eyes fly open and he gasps, eyes landing on the two of them sitting in front of him.

"Coryo," Tigris says softly, a small, worried smile on her face.

"Y/N?" He asks, his voice husky from sleep. "Is she-"

"She's alive," Tigris promises, gently rubbing his arm, landing her hand on his and squeezing it gently.

"Is she hurt?"

"Not badly." Sejanus shakes his head. "A few decent cuts and bruises, but she'll be okay. I brought her some antibiotics the other day so nothing will get infected." You won't be okay, they both know that, but you certainly wouldn't be dying from the minor injuries you sustained in the rebel bombing.

He nods, slightly, trying to sit up. "How long was I sleeping? What did I miss?"

"Another tribute died from injuries," Sejanus replies. "Everyone is still scared. No one will go see them anymore, I haven't seen any of the other mentors there either. But I've been feeding her. She's okay."

Coryo nods, wincing at the pain in his back as he moves. The burn was bad, but apparently, it was healing well.

"Marcus is still missing. I haven't heard anything about him. They're hunting him but I still think he has a better chance out there than he would tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Coryo asks, rubbing his head with his free hand, Tigris still holding his other one. "They're still going ahead with the games?"

Sejanus just slightly shakes his head, looking away. Coryo knows that that is a yes.

"Oh no... Y/N.... She could've run," He mumbles. "But she saved me."

"I tried to convince her to. I did." Sejanus reminds him. "She wouldn't budge."

All heads turn as Lucky's voice on the TV catches their attention. "And now, our final tribute. I first met this young lady in the zoo not too long ago. From District Twelve, Y/N Y/L/N. Come on out here!"

Lucretius motions for you to step out onto the stage and you do, gently placing the book and the blanket you had brought with you on the floor in a neat pile before joining him.

"Lucretius." You smile. "It's good to see you." You're nervous in front of so many people, the audience in front of you is much larger than the small one you spoke in front of at the reaping, and being in front of a camera without Coryo by your side made you antsy.

"You as well, Darling. Now, I was told you had something you wanted to do for us so I'll just leave you to that. Charm us! Remember, the world is watching." He smiles, gently patting your shoulder before walking just out of view of the cameras. His statement was far from reassuring.

"Uhm..." You stare out at the audience, and suddenly you're scared you've forgotten the entire thing. You had to do well. For Coryo and his prize. He needed this. "I've become aware that not many people know this play." You chuckle, trying to hide your nervousness behind it. "But Romeo and Juliet has always held a special place in my heart and I want to share that with the world, before I go."

You take a deep breath, closing your eyes. You wonder if Coryo is watching. He's not here, you're sure of that, but you do hope he gets to see. And he does.

He stands up as soon as your face first appears on the screen, declining help from both Tigris and Sejanus as he limps over to the TV, cranking up the volume. Your fate depends on this, he knows it, but he can't look past the blue tint under your eyes and the bruises that litter almost every part of your exposed skin. The cuts are what get him the most. Your knuckles are cleaned up, mostly, but red and irritated as you twist your hands together nervously in front of you. Same with the crude black stitches on your upper arm. Irritated, neglected by professionals, but at least it wasn't serious.

"Come on... You can do it." He mumbles mostly to himself, and Tigris reaches up to place a reassuring hand on his shoulder as the three of them watch.

"O Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?" Immediately, he is confused. He expected to be, of course, but he could also tell as soon as you started reciting it, after the first line, your confidence was coming back to you. This play was your safe space.

"Deny thy father and refuse thy name. Or if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love; and I'll no longer be a Capulet." You look out at the silent audience as you speak, a smile forming on your lips. They're listening. "'Tis but thy name that is my enemy: Thou art thyself, though not a Montague."

Coryo is wishing you had explained more to him about what this play is about. "What's Montague? It is nor hand nor foot, nor arm nor face nor any other part belonging to a man. Oh, be some other name." He should have asked. Why didn't he ask? You told him yourself that you could talk about it for hours. Why didn't he take advantage of that when he had the chance?

"What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet; so Romeo would, were he not Romeo call'd, retain that dear perfection which he owes without that title." A rose. Of course a rose, was this for him? He longed to understand it better as he watched the donations tracker tick up and up toward the thousands.

"Romeo, doff thy name, And for that name, which is no part of thee," You take a deep breath for the first time since you started speaking. "Take all myself."

It was a beat or two before the audience clued in that you were done, and then the cheers started. A standing ovation, people wiping their eyes and clapping for you like you had changed their lives.

"Wow! Now wasn't that something, everyone!" Lucky laughs, coming back into the frame of Coryo's view from the camera. Tigris was in tears. The continual uptick of the donations counter was reassuring to him. As you smiled, cheeks flushing red. "The donations are just flooding in with a record high! That must feel good."

"Thank you, it does." You nod at Lucky, trying to place all your focus on him so you don't get too embarrassed in front of the crowd. At least you knew Coryo would be pleased. If you understood his prize situation as well as you thought you did, this was very good for him. "I just want to make my family and my mentor proud."

"You have a real talent. It's such a shame." The host says to you and you laugh awkwardly.

"Well, everyone loves something. I just loved books."

You continually referring to yourself in the past tense makes Coryo want to puke, looking away from the screen only briefly to take in the other nurses and patients watching too.

"We have just a few moments left, but I need to know, what is that about?"

"Oh! Well, Romeo and Juliet is a tragedy." You explain, back to yourself again. "It's about two star-crossed lovers from feuding families. So, what Juliet was talking about, to put it very simply because I could go on and on about this, was that she loved Romeo for who he was- not just his name or his family. It didn't matter to her that they came from different places. She loves him anyway, and if he couldn't let go of his family, she would give up her own life for him."

Coryo's eyes widen. So it was about him. He can't help the tug on his lips that threatens to form a smile.

"Alrighty then, that's very sweet." Lucky replies. "Now, you said it's a tragedy. What is so tragic about a love story?"

"Well," You chuckle nervously. "They both die at the end."

taglist: @soulessjourney, @keziahcore, @that-veela-girl, @motorsport, @dreamyysouls, @rockstarbfs, @Lanadelrey3, @rawrmameh, @3zae-zae3, @babyspice6, @pastel0rchid, @maysileeewrites, @articxari, @Urfavpouge, @Multivitaminfy, @baybieruth, @kitscutie, @annaelise, @serrendiipty, @fratboyharrysgf0201, @totallynotkaibiased, @stelleduarte, @klplynn, @secretsicanthideanymore, @bejeweledreverie, @fals3-g0d, @drewsandsebastianswife, @niicole-87, @queenofshinigamis, @innercreationflower, @nallasstuff, @spring-goddess1, @baybieruth, @lovelyxtom, @throughgoeshxmilton, @enwonie, @scorpiolystoned, @iovemoonyy, @kodzuvk, @soupasoup, @eedwardss, @thatmarvelchick19, @wearemadeofstardust0, @regulusblackcore, @kbakery , @qardasngan, @omgsuperstarg, @kuroosbby001, @puredreamagination, @fantasticchaosthing, @coolcatyarb, @yokolesbianism, @becauseseaotters, @KimmiB13

if your user has a strikethrough i wasn't able to tag you! i'm so sorry!

#tbosas #tbosas fic #hunger games #coriolanus snow #tbosas x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games #thg #thg fanfiction #thg series #thg movies #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus fanfiction #coryo x reader #coryo snow #snow lands on top

[sh0tanzz]

Best kisser in riize? 😚

KISSING RIIZE ~ ♥ based on astrology observations

Now tbh if I had their birthtimes I'd try to find out their kiss asteroid and have a better answer for this BUT wht I CAN tell you is how I think each member kiss.

Shotaro

Very attentive. Pays attention to your responses to certain actions. He knows exactly what you like and what you don't like. Knows how you melt when he lightly holds onto your jaw and smiles into the kiss. Knows you like it most when you two kiss with nobody around so he can kiss you into dizziness. Knows you get a bit irritated when he looks into your hazed eyes and giggles at you afterwards. He just knows it all. An overachiever even.

Eunseok

Forward. Corners you but not in a way that scares or alarms you. Let's you lean on him when you get lost in it. Messes with you by dodging your kiss making you want more. Holds onto your hips, to tease you even more he'd run his hands down the back of your legs. Wants more and more and more. Lips practically feeling bruised by the time he's done.

Sungchan

Consumes you in the kiss. Has to hold you, whether its holding your face in his hands, holding your waist, or even holding your shoulders. You can practically feel literal heat leaving his body while he kisses you. Adores when traces of your lipgloss or liptint across his lips and the scent of his usual cologne lingering on you just to show off that you're his.

Wonbin

Messy but in a lovely way. Holds you as close as possible feeling along your back tracing your spine. Kisses you the most when cuddling on the couch and bed as if it's a routine. Gets a rush when you consume his senses..the fabric of your sweater and softening balm on your lips. Feels as if you two are sinking but floating at the same time. Kisses down your neck hoping that later you'll do the same to him.

Seunghan

Highly Affectionate. A playlist in the background while his tv screen is paused on his video game, the lights pretty dimmed out. Kisses your forehead, cheeks, and jaw before reaching your lips. Compliments you between the kisses whispering about how pretty and cute you are. Pauses every now and again to get a good look at you. Reaches for you after the kiss is over.

Sohee

Simple but sweet. Somewhat spontaneous, wouldn't want to indulge in pda but sneaks kisses between moments and shrugs when you asked where the random flush of affection came from. Light but soon deep kisses that leave your lips warm and goofy grins with fond loving stares. Jokes in between the kisses and makes fun of you as if his literal ears aren't red.

Anton

Romantic sequence. It starts with a conversation about random things. Then it became you two chatting leaning on each other, soon he presses small kisses to your hand, and then your shoulder. Now you're kissing & while you two take breaks to breathe the convo you two were having continues. Loves the scent of your perfume. Has to do something with his hands..playing with your hair or necklace, holding your hand.

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

Authors Note: Im currently working on Sohee, Shotaro and Seunghan as your bf based on astrology and Wonbin's ideal type so if it seems like its taking a while for me to get to your requests I SWEAR im not ignoring it LMAO

#kpop astrology #riize #riize fluff #riize imagines #riize reactions #riize smut #riize x reader #riizenet #riize scenarios #riize sungchan #riize shotaro #riize anton #riize seunghan #riize sohee #riize eunseok #riize wonbin #riize x you #riize headcanons #briize #anton lee #sungchan #eunseok #osaki shotaro #seunghan #wonbin #riize soft hours #riize soft thoughts #riize hard thoughts #riize hard hours #nct

[motherofagony]

A HEART FOR EATING // vol. 1

joel miller x f!reader

pairing: post outbreak!joel x f!reader setting: jackson, wy (think tlou pt. 2 minus the golfing) rating: mature, 18+, minors dni word count: 5.6k series summary: a vicious raider attack robs you of human connection and lights a fire of destruction in your life in jackson. joel's fixated on you, and your lives tangle. revenge becomes a needful thing. chapter summary: life goes on after raiders infiltrate a routine patrol. you're a shut-in, and jackson residents tiptoe around your trauma. joel found you after the accident, but you don't know what to make of it. content warnings + tags: age gap (we'll say 15-20 years), protective!joel, mentions of trauma (no s/a, i promise), blood, bodily injuries, death, shitty men, dissociation/triggers, alcohol, angst, sexual tension if you close one eye, the softest enemies to lovers you've ever seen vol. 1 // vol. 2 series playlist a/n: longtime listener, first time caller. yes, there will be smut — in due time. probably a slower burn than you're used to on tumblr dot com, but there will be porn galore, i promise. heavy on the hurt + comfort trope in this one. thank you for reading, i hope you enjoy.

“Get the fuck up!”

The boot connects with your side again, the rounded toe slamming into ribs you’re sure are already broken. You’re trying to play dead, but it doesn’t exactly work when yelps are being kicked out of you. Old Yeller, of all fucking things, comes to mind.

But you’re not sick, not infected. Just wrong time, wrong place.

Blood pools sticky under your head. Voices are filtering in like an untuned radio, gathering static and making you nauseous. Like it’s all one bad hangover or a lucid dream in a realm too far.

“Where are the others?”

Someone else asks the question that you’ve been concentrating on. The knob turns, clearing the radio fuzz just so. You strain to hear, but you don’t dare open your eyes.

“Dead. Not shit on ‘em that was worth stealin’. We gotta fuckin’ go — just leave her.”

A vague twang of Boston wraps around his words. You’d forgotten what it sounded like, how the rs get caught in the back of the tongue and dropped. How the voweled aws are spit at you, the shell of your ear growing numb against the icy concrete. 

Yes, you think. Fucking leave me.

The raider that’s been torturing you for what feels like hours groans as if it’s an inconvenience, an interruption to something he was thoroughly enjoying. Whatever he would’ve done, continued doing, taunts the crevices of your mind. He digs through your bag one last time, and you don’t know what he’s looking for or if there would have been anything at all that would have satisfied him the first time. 

You remember a sliver of skin where his sleeve had bunched, revealing a shitty coupling of star tattoos on his wrist. You can feel your icepick heartbeat behind your eyes, and you wonder if it was a dare over a few beers. A matching tattoo with a lover. The thought lifts you up and out of the crushing burden of pushing air into clenched lungs, only for a moment. It’s no name to grab hold of, but it’s an identifier if you can make it out alive. 

He’d crept up behind you while you were clearing a warehouse that you swore you’d be fine doing by yourself, pushing the cold barrel of something painfully familiar into the back of your head. He was tall, unflinching, unworried, too practiced. He helped you slip the straps of your backpack off your shoulders but staggeringly violent and unkind. Feeling you up for weapons with a disgusting leisure. As if you’d be hiding something gun-sized in your small back pocket.

You’d heard panic and screams outside, and you already knew. Voices outnumbered your friends, and it was almost – almost – funny to think that Tommy said the three of you would be one too many for patrol.

So, when exactly two gunshots hit their targets, it only took you seconds to figure out the score. 

Something significant cracked in you then. Started in your chest and splintered to your heart, head, down to the tips of your toes. There was no fighting back, and you were next.

Now — fractured ribs, a dislocated shoulder, bloodied face, broken wrist, and one concussion later, here you find yourself. The tall one has a thick mustache, something sinister and villainous that seems too stereotypical even for this. At some point there had been a shift, and what started as a robbery now felt like killing for sport.

“Fine. Think she’s dead anyway.”

He kicks you one more time for the cinematic pleasure of it all. 

This time you don’t wince, don’t feel a jerk or twitch betray you. The muscle in your jaw is so tense, the teeth grinding so hard into one another that you expect to open your mouth to a cloud of dust.

An agony you’ve only ever seen in movies is wringing every cell dry. It’s seizing, unrelenting, almost an exorcism in the tensing and writhing of it all. But you keep it beneath the surface, barely clinging to the little control you have. 

You try to count the footsteps that are finally retreating, to breathe around the blood in your nose both dried and fresh. It feels like measuring the closeness of thunder and lightning, some kind of correlation with the distance of a storm. 

The group trails outside, and heavier footsteps of your stolen horses lead them away. Onto the next. Breath idles in your chest, and the clarity that you think will come when you finally unstick your eyelids doesn’t. Everything feels swollen, scorched, raw. Nerve endings clipped and lapped up by the unrelenting lick of wind. A scream climbs up your throat, but the pain isn’t worth the exhale. And you don’t want them to come back for round two.

You drag the dead weight of your limbs out to inspect what you know to be true, and it’s nothing but bloody snow angels and twisted, awkward angles of your friends. You can’t even look at them, turning your head and squeezing your swollen eyes shut when you check for pulses that aren’t there. 

Snowflakes collect on your lashes and drip pink down your face.

—

Daylight wanes, languid and impatient. It’s been hours trying to retrace your steps back to Jackson, the blood loss slowing you to a stop every five dizzying minutes. Your feet trick you into standing, only for your knees to buckle and bring you down into the snow. Teetering on the cliff of willfully alive and mercifully dead. There isn’t pain anymore, not really, and you’re grateful for the numbing cold, but you can feel your body threatening to cave in on itself. 

Tears don’t come as much as you beg for them, for any type of release that’ll ground you. Enough time has ticked by that someone has to notice an absence of three, but you can’t be sure that you’re even on the right path anymore to meet them in the middle. 

When they find you, if they ever find you, at least they’ll know you tried.

There’s a comfort in that, a warmth that reaches out and grabs you and folds you in like a blanket. It’s safe here, it says. Just lie down for a minute. And you don’t fight it.

Someone’s calling your name now, and it’s a gentle tug back into consciousness. There are frantic hands on your face, delicate and urgent when they take inventory of your wounds. When they say death greets you, maybe it’s this. 

But there’s a Texas drawl that’s murmuring you’re okay, I’ve got you and I know, I know it hurts and shouting instructions to someone else that’s lifting you up, up, up. 

Your fingertips scrape a stubbled jaw when you’re pulled away. The light dims like a blown-out candle. And you’re falling, grasping at anything, everything, nothing. 

You forget the rest.

—

Ten months pass, dripping into spring, then summer, and meeting autumn at its doorstep.

Everything has healed, down to the last scratch. That day feels hazy, and you’d assume it was a hallucination if not for the two friends that didn’t come back with you. The recovery was just as strange, trauma shielding you from the gory parts but not the guilt. Never the guilt. 

Sometimes, you test the memory, prod at it, but nothing new comes to the surface. No recollection of who they were, where they were going, if they were anything more than nameless thieves. It’s probably better this way, but there’s no way of knowing if that’s true.

Fistfuls of flowers collected on your porch, and they seemed to appear out of thin air because no one ever came with them. Anonymous condolences that didn’t want to be seen, and it was an easy guess as to why. You heard rumors, retellings of what happened without much accuracy, but there was nothing to say to correct them. Some of them were angry, and you let them be. Call it penance, undeserved or not. 

Ellie would visit occasionally, sometimes Tommy. You let her play guitar without saying a word, let him bring you books to keep you occupied. Everyone else dodged you, and you didn’t know if it was discomfort or because you were the only one left alive to blame. Probably both.

Since then, they’d kept you busy elsewhere. Projects that hadn’t been projects before suddenly popped up. More hands in the stables for getting horses ready for patrol. Planting vegetables and flowers for food and morale. Playing doctor when the patrols would come back with minor injuries from staving off infected. Being underfoot at the Tipsy Bison, picking up shifts when there was a movie night or some string-lit illuminated get-together. 

Slinking into the shadows and being the ambient background noise in everyone else’s conversations. 

You didn’t have the heart to tell them that you had the farthest thing from a green thumb, that you couldn’t bartend for shit, that the most nurse-like thing you’d ever done was slap a band-aid on a skinned knee. 

An otherness that weighed so heavy you thought it would be better to crush you. Poison that bloomed in the belly of a tight-knit community that didn’t know what shelf to put you on. Who felt like collective trauma was part of the deal, and this was just yours. 

But it softened the blow of your abrupt uselessness. You let it happen. Becoming competent was better than peeking out from drawn curtains. Better than sleeping with your eyes open, watching everyone around you move on while you couldn’t.

While nightmares claw their way up your chest at night and leave you in a cold sweat, flicking on every light that’ll burn to make sure you’re really, truly alone.

The roar of laughter snaps you out of the trance, breaks the eye contact you were making with your fireplace. You wonder absently if you’d tuned out the rest or if everyone had finally huddled together in front of the projector down the road for tonight’s showing of whatever DVD was looted during this week’s patrol. You didn’t usually mind — sometimes even joined when Ellie had enough of your sulking and all but kicked your door in — but tonight feels like an organized, cruel punishment.

You pry yourself from your couch, knocking over the stack of books on your way to the coat rack. Anaïs Nin pierces you with a glare, rotting where you left her. You slip each arm into a heavy coat, tucking one of the books into your bag with a lone cigarette as a makeshift bookmark. It’s cold as fuck tonight, but maybe you’ll linger a little longer after closing down the bar. Maybe you’ll wait until the crowd outside dies down to sneak back into your house, light another fire, and count down the hours until your shift at the stables.

Bartending tonight should be quiet, hopefully only encountering a few regulars that usually kept to themselves and tipped you for doing the same. 

You steal one more warm moment before opening the door and stepping into the flinching cold, taking note of the way words stutter and lose traction when your face registers with the nearby crowd. There always seems to be a vacancy of pleasantries. And you don’t exactly invite them.

Tommy gives you a sympathetic look, tipping his chin up in a half-nod. Ellie lifts a few fingers in a wave, knowing you don’t want the pity but hate the suffocation of nothing at all. You will the corners of your mouth to quirk in a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes and force your legs into a normal pace, almost locking your knees so you don’t break into a run. The debt of an overdue visit with them burrows in your chest. 

The Jaws theme song hums ominously, and you think it’s only fitting.

A few people litter the bar when you meet the cozy blanket of peanut-shelled air of the Tipsy Bison. A pool cue cracks against a ball and sends it clattering into a group of others, a low crackle of some country something crooning out of the jukebox. You shed your coat and your bag in the back, washing your hands under scorching water to shake some feeling back into your bones.

“Just a few tonight. Been slow – you’ll probably be out early. What’s playin’?”

You smile at the thick, syrupy Southern mama accent by your side. Cheryl is no-nonsense, usually slips you a little extra at the end of your shifts, and feigns ignorance of anything about the ugly parts of your past. All she cares about is that you’re eating. There is an undying gratitude for Cheryl. 

“Ah. Jaws, I think.”

She seems to read your mind with a laugh, patting your shoulder affectionately like only a mother can.

“Maybe I’ll go join the sharks. Joel just got here, wants a whiskey ‘fore I head out. You know him,” Cheryl tuts, almost rolling her eyes but you know she likes the caretaker role if you’re any indication.

And you do. You do know him.

Joel keeps to himself almost as much as you do, maybe a little less when it comes to Ellie and Tommy. He’s sort of your catty-cornered neighbor, but not the sugar-asking kind. More like the kind that glances in your direction, holds your stare for a beat too long, and abruptly looks away before anything discernible can appear. 

The closest you ever come to saying anything of substance to each other is when you ready his horse for patrols and intercept it when he’s back safe and sound. You try not to let him catch your gaze shifting to that shiny scar on his head, and you stifle down the question that’s none of your business. 

Maybe he does the same for you.

And maybe he was there and saved you that day, but neither one of you has ever mentioned it since. You don’t know how, and there’s a brick wall around the subject that won’t let you. Enough time has passed that you figure he’d have said something if he gave a shit.

Yet, there’s a deep yearning for his approval, his attention. It’s a mystery even to you, when you think about how savagely indifferent you are to anyone else’s. But you think it’s the magnetism of having him as a witness. The way he could vindicate you and give you an alibi, a heroic complex, but he doesn’t. 

So, the idea that he’s one of the patrons that you can count on one hand tonight… you can’t put a name to what it’s doing to you.

Cheryl makes sure that you’re okay, but she doesn’t linger. She packs up her things with haste, jogging through the cold to join her wife in front of the bonfire.

No one really pays you any mind as you start your closing duties early, and it’s doubtful that the seats will fill any more than they are as the party picks up outside.

Joel sits at the corner of the bar that faces you, and he’s down to a knuckle’s length of whiskey. If he were anyone else, you might wonder why he’s not at the bonfire — but it’s Joel. Social anythings are like a second plague to him.

The thought of having to refill his drink vibrates in the back of your mind, and lead fills your stomach. Small talk that you never quite have with him. It dissipates just as quickly, when you see the way he’s fixed on the sweat gathering on his glass instead of anything else, and when a gust of wind comes in as the door opens.

Max. Anxiety snaps in your rib cage like a rubber band. Something acrid hits the back of your throat and you think it might be blood the way your teeth connect with the soft tissue of your cheek. 

Max had been a recurring character in your bed once. Before. It was never more than convenience, and the way you fucked wasn’t love, not even close. Liberating to think that you never neared the edge of feeling anything except his hand pressing your face into a pillow, performing orgasms that never came. 

There’s no carcass of affection left, so devoid of emotion for him that it feels like a severed limb.

He’s all ego and athletic strength, sauntering up to the bar with a gait that reeks of hours of pregaming. There’s a permanent sneer when he addresses you, a coldness that has nothing to do with the weather.

“Tequila. Two doubles.”

He’s the type to twist the knife of your tragedy in even deeper, making sure to hit all vital organs. The first to question what more you could have done to save his friends, blaming you for leaving them there to die as if they weren’t dead the moment raiders showed up. As if you weren’t almost dead. Anything you’ve said in defense is inconceivable, an excuse, an admission of guilt. He mourns at your expense and often.

Jackson trudges forward, but Max forces you to stay in grief and remember.

“I think you’ve had your fill this week. Drank through your ration on Tuesday, remember?” you say coolly, but a twinge of fatigue colors your tone, giving you away. You aren’t in the mood, and Max finds it easy to light flame to your resolve as-is.

Maria spends hours of careful inventory, and there’s been more than one occasion where you’ve been instructed to cut off a greedy drunk. The vice, the urge to drink in an apocalypse doesn’t really align with the limited stock, unfortunately.

“Yeah, I don’t exactly see Maria around, do you?” A jeer at face value, but you decide in the beat of silence that follows that rule enforcement isn’t worth it tonight. “Sounds like you’ll think of something. And you fuckin’ owe me one, don’t you? Or would you prefer I collect on that another time?”

It’s not worth it. You’re dropping your glare, squaring your jaw, lining up two glasses so that the rims clink. But the way your skin prickles, there’s an unwelcome visitor in his stare, an x-ray vision that you wished Max didn’t have. 

Somewhere down the bar, glass slams against wood and something you know to be amber-colored sloshes.

You try to steady the angry tremble that overcomes your hands as you upturn the liquor bottle. One-two-three-four. One-two-three-four.

He holds the ration card to you, taunting you by pulling back when you reach for it, only to smirk and flick it toward you, uncaring of where it lands. You shove it into the mouth of the register with the violence you wish you were brave enough for.

“You can leave now.”

“That so? Mouthy now that you have an audience?” Max gestures cruelly to the grand total of four patrons, five if you counted Johnny Cash.

It stings, but dully. You’ve heard worse – even if not to your face – and it’s all kind of anti-climatic if you considered the low-budget production they always try to make out of you. The words eventually all sound the same, nothing punches quite the way they intend. Still, your cheeks burn as if on cue, and —

“She told you to get the fuck out.”

A low timbre erupts, easily mistaken as pure venom. There’s a sway in the way your senses glitch and then still, and reality swirls at the edge of your periphery. Pool balls stop their roll, murmured chatter ceases, and even the fucking jukebox settles on an instrumental to lean in and listen. 

You dare to look over at Joel, whose demeanor looks more akin to statuesque and threatening than his curved slouch when you first clocked in. He’s standing, flexing his fists so hard that you think they might shatter.

Max backs off but subtly – you can see the way his puffed chest deflates even though his glare doesn’t. He finishes off one tequila before backing up with the other dangling in his fingers, both hands turned palm-out in mock surrender. 

A deep annoyance plucks at his brow, but he knows he’s flirting with a black eye. 

Max flashes a middle finger, lets his grip relax after downing the glass in his hand, and it crashes to the floor with a wincing shatter. He’s gone before you can string together any curses, and would it have mattered anyway?

Then, there’s scattering, the bar flies wordlessly agreeing that anywhere is better than the awkwardness of being here. Cards thrown down, beers drained, and there’s an uneasiness with the way they shuffle outside towards the rest of the group. A dance around the broken glass that isn’t their problem. You pretend not to notice, though you try to hide the redness that stains your cheeks as you bring a dust pan over to the mess.  

You feel eyes on you and, all too suddenly, you realize that Joel didn’t follow them.

“Careful. Here, lemme do that.”

He’s kneeling, taking the pan from you. Knuckles brush yours a little too long and electrify, zapping you. You mutter something like thanks and it’s too ungrateful, too tired. A woodsy scent fills your nose, and you’re hard-pressed not to lean into his collar and bookmark it.

Glass slips into the trash with a tinkling, shimmering sound. You’re already back behind the bar, hands busying with something else, tidying up the already-tidy. Letting him slip outside with the crowd, heavy with satisfaction that he came to your rescue yet again. 

But he’s sat back down, watching you with an odd intensity. He’s never assessed you like this, at least not that you’ve seen. A different sort of undressing than what Max gives you. You meet his eyeline warily. Vulnerable, waiting for your predator’s jaw to unhinge and devour you whole.

“He always talk to you that way?”

A quiet, lethal question hangs in the air, so quiet that you could’ve chalked it up to your imagination. But evidenced by the white-knuckled grip Joel has on his glass, the measured way he brings it to his lips, it was real. Controlled, scary even. But real.

Your mouth opens to answer, then closes. You consider in a beat’s time how it would sound to laugh it off, then stop yourself. It would be too forced, too desperate of a sound to be convincing. You’ve never been the unfeeling, unaffected type.

It’s clear that he knows the answer, has probably seen it with his own eyes, but it’s like he wants a green light to set his sights on some other more sinister and deserving prey.

“Doesn’t matter. He’s been through a lot,” you say, half to yourself. It’s easier this way.

“Does matter. So’ve you,” Joel says, even quieter, like he’s trying to contain an angry edge that threatens to bleed out. The calm is almost worse. In a way, you wish he would loosen the leash on his rage. Or break something to satisfy the urge in you that wants to do the same – you’d give him permission to do that. This is too unreadable and ambiguous, too much room left for agonizing interpretation in how he grits his teeth and pulses that muscle in his taut jaw. You want to yell, let out what’s long pent-up. Yes! Yes, it does fucking matter!

But you don’t. You keep the rag tight on the lip of the pint glass in your hand, rotating it past the point of needing to be cleaned. The rub of the microfiber cloth makes you itch, and your teeth scrape again at the inside of your cheek.

It leaves your mouth before you can catch it and shove it back down.

“Why do you care?”

Joel looks up at you now and you think that you’ve already overstepped during your first, real fucking conversation. He finishes off the whiskey and puts it back down carefully. He stands up, each slow step over to you spiking your blood pressure, your breath shifting into neutral. 

It’s the way he’s fixated on you, a litmus test for any sarcasm. The way a chill creeps into the base of your spine and slithers up each vertebrae despite the warmth you feel below your waist. And when he comes behind the bar, reaches for the glass in your hand and puts it down gently, you wonder if that tug has always been there. 

Fuck.

“You think I don’t care?”

Tiny hairs at your nape stand at attention in a near-salute. The web of intrusive thoughts tangles between you, and you’re acutely aware that this is the closest you’ve ever been to Joel Miller – that you’ve been conscious for. That feeling rushes back and bursts in your chest, the comforting honey in his voice that’s been haunting you since he found you crumpled in the snow. 

The omnipresent, sharp tang of whiskey sticks to the slightly graying stubble that you want to reach out and touch. That you want to feel the scrape of in places that makes heat pool deep in your belly. His flannel is unbuttoned at the top, the column of his throat ridged and tense. 

Focus.

“Why are you saying this now?” you say, and you want to hold your ground but his admission is akin to mesmerizing.

He thinks for a minute, his eyes smoothing over every angle in your face. They look past you, just over your shoulder, like he’s asking himself the same thing.

“Knew you could handle it. ‘Til you couldn’t anymore.”

There it is. You let it sink in, clicking that last piece into place. Always observing you from a safe distance, the buzz of something unsaid ringing in your ears when he’s around. How he listens to your interactions, but never too closely. Watching for weak spots. And tonight was the weakest of them all, letting yourself be humiliated by the only person that knew where to bite just right.

You feel laid bare, too seen. Pissed that he can witness your struggling, thrashing, drowning with outstretched arms and kicking feet and decide when and if he’ll pity you.

And this time, a laugh does slip out – humorless and breathy.

“The same way you can handle whatever’s making you drink alone on a Friday night? Don’t act so holier than thou, Joel. I’m the wrong one.”

“Watch it.”

You don’t mean it. Not really. But you’re so angry, a wasps’ nest that’s been taunted and poked at after being left to its own devices for too long. Sometimes violence feels more intimate. Safer.

And he’s using that gravelly, terse tone with you of all people, and you want to fucking lose your mind.

When he doesn’t say anything else, just looks at you and waits, they leave their home in a wave. Burying stingers where you know they’ll hurt. Once more, with feeling.

“Are you looking for a ‘thank you’?”

Joel’s mouth quirks, but it isn’t a smile. It only stokes the fire, and you know what he’s doing. Letting you win, begrudgingly because you’re being an ass. But you haven’t had a win in the last ten months, only loss after devastating loss. He’s throwing you a raft.

“No. Just tryin’ to help, ‘s all.”

Your nostrils are flaring in sharp inhales that you can’t control, and you physically jab at him, your own tightly wound chest dragging in the hive for a final, practiced nosedive. “I don’t fucking need your help, Joel.”

He’s snatching your wrist, holding it in a vise, but there’s a flinch in his expression. Joel hardens, sliding that cool armor back into place. Sizing you up one more time, committing you to memory. A curt nod, plucking that chord of roughness in his tone that makes you ache.

There’s a glare you’ve never seen from him, like disappointment and disdain wrapped up neatly in one package. Delivered with a dagger straight to your heart.

“We’ll see. Not s’good at that, are you?”

And it’s a KO you allow, one you’ll lay with. But he’s leaning in, invading your space. You move to retreat and cower, the way you’re accustomed to, but Joel’s grabbing a fistful of your shirt and fastening you in place. His mouth’s at your ear as if he’s telling you a secret. 

“Good luck bein’ a fuckin’ martyr.”

The pressure loosens, as does his grip, dissipating like some ghostly presence. He leaves without another word, and something inside you snags and unspools. 

—

You don’t see Joel for days. 

Three days to be exact, torturous and fluid days that feel like trickling sand, but blend together in an indistinguishable slideshow when you zoom out. You time your breaks perfectly at the stables so you don’t run into him, and you ask Cheryl to cover for you on Tuesday, ignoring the strange look she gives you – the resident workaholic. 

It’s a sort of avoidance that you don’t want to acknowledge or look directly in the eye. If you did, it would mean that Joel affected you more than you want to admit. Or that he’d sized you up in an expert way that a categorical stranger shouldn’t be able to.

You should be livid, and you are… in a way. But mainly you want to shrug your skin off, your unease for being so dissected by him. Just unzip it all and let it pool at your feet, stepping out of the pile one leg at a time. The pinch, the untethering of you and the man that could read you without translation.

And when it’s 9 o’clock and you’re making tea as you trudge through a book without really reading anything, you glance outside at the house across the street and it’s so dark that you think it may have swallowed him whole.

Or he’s hiding from you, too.

—

It’s finally Thursday, and you can’t put it off any longer. You’re running out of food, you promised Tommy you’d lend a hand with feeding the horses – and there’s a dull itch to see Joel again. You don’t even know what you’d say, if he even wants to bother with you after the other night. Part of you hopes that you fall backwards into the acquaintance of saying nothing, that you have permission to rewind past whatever this nagging feeling is.

It’s quiet outside – a lazy day. The snow on the ground is melting, patchy in spots where sunlight or kid-feet caught it at just the right angle. The greenhouses are so fogged and frosted over that you’re grateful you can’t see the death-rot inside. It’s not quite growing season yet, but close, and you long for the added distraction in your day if this is the alternative.

Anything to pass the time and not think about Joel and his hands touching yours. The fabric of your shirt oozing between his knuckles when he forced you chest-to-chest. 

When you make it over to the barn, his horse is gone and there’s almost – almost – a twinge of relief. You’ll be done before he gets back from patrol. You won’t have a chance to swallow the apology that will rise in your throat like bile, but maybe it’s for the best.

You’re elbow deep in feed when there’s a yelling that cracks in the air. You freeze, waiting to hear a suffix of children’s laughter, but it doesn’t come. There’s a confused sort of shouting, and the gate at the border of Jackson slams and rattles like you’ve never heard before. 

Shaky hands wipe at your pants, and you step out, a hand shielding your eyes from the glare of the sun.

Joel is slumped atop his horse, upright but hardly. There’s a cut somewhere on his head that streams a blurry red, and the horse whines when Tommy sprints to meet it.

“It’s Joel! I need some fuckin’ help here!”

And without fully connecting the dots or measuring the severity, you just run. Colliding with the crowd that’s formed, shoving elbows and shoulders as if in a trance. Like something’s pressing you from behind, throwing all its weight into pushing you forward. 

You blink and you’re helping Joel down, Ellie’s tattooed forearm somewhere in the jumble of limbs. Tommy’s jean jacket stiff from the cold.

You don’t have to look in a mirror to know that you’re pale as a ghost. The moisture strips from your mouth, joints moving as if by marionette. Blood is already drying and caking in the creases of your hands. Knowing it isn’t yours makes you feel sick.

“‘M fine, Jesus Christ,” Joel coughs, a jagged edge in his throat that sounds anything but. There’s something underneath his coat that’s soaking through, blossoming a dark stain on the front. 

Images keep shifting every time you blink, like you’re losing time in between and someone’s slamming the fast-forward button until it jams. Joel groaning on a makeshift stretcher. Ellie’s frenzied feet following as they take him to his house.

The tall one on top of you, squeezing your windpipe. 

Your head cracking against the pavement. 

Two gunshots firing. 

Snow in your bloodied, matted hair. 

“You’re okay, I’ve got you. I know, I know it hurts.”

Ringing grows loud and shrill in your ears. Tommy’s in front of you, calling your name. Shaking your shoulders. 

“– need you to go fix him up –”

And you’re falling back into the present, vision shifting back into focus. You’re nodding, clinical now. You’ve seen worse, and strangely, that’s comforting. 

“– whatever supplies you need, I trust you –”

The weight of Tommy’s confidence steadies you, tying up the loose ends that have untwined deep inside. You run through the mental checklist of what’s in your medical bag at home – stashed in your closet on the very top shelf. Bandages, antibiotics, sutures. But if you’re dealing with a bite…

“I got it. Promise. Keep everyone out, alright? I’ll let you know.”

He pauses, catching up with the subliminal thing that waits in the air between you. Wariness paints his gaze, and you know he knows what you’re afraid to say. 

Tommy nods, but you’re already running.

#my writing #a heart for eating #ahfe #outbreak!joel #jackson!joel #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #tlou fanfiction #motherofagony

[kimsohn]

in each other's arms

pairing . roommates! mingi x gn reader about . 3k+ words, fluff warnings . i have an unhealthy obsession with writing when i���m sleep-deprived take this as you will. i also don’t write long fics so i’m super sorry in advance. reader has a thing for mingi’s arms (who doesn’t), there is cursing involved, slight mentions of alcohol, reader calls mingi annoying and stupid a couple of times but it’s endearingly, this is not proofread yolo

synopsis . you don’t understand why your roommate is suddenly afraid of the dark, but maybe offering him space to sleep next to you wasn’t the worst idea you’ve ever had. note . wrote this for a secret santa fic and decided to post here as well! i don't really stan ateez but writing this has definitely made me some sort of mingi stan 😭 also this was inspired by this episode of curious george, not crucial to understand the fic but definitely helpful

You’re not quite sure how your roommate grew so accustomed to watching Curious George episodes every night, but it’s become a, to put simply, very distracting routine.

Returning home from work to find Mingi, part-time barista and your personal full-time teddy bear, watching a TV show wasn’t uncommon. Heck, customer service jobs were so horrible that even you would settle in front of the screen for the remainder of the day. You’d often walk in on a new Netflix series and even indulge in them with him, humming soundtracks while you both made dinner together or fall asleep cuddling to the end credits of each episode.

It was all fine until he found a Curious George playlist on YouTube with all 15 seasons, and being a nonsensically endearing child at heart, he’d made it his personal mission to cycle through all of them. Initially, it was nostalgic for you too, but after one too many times of seeing the stupid monkey and his yellow-adorned caretaker, you’d opt to crash in your banana-less bed after dinner instead.

Nights often end like this one, with you drifting into slumber and the glaring light of the TV screen peeking into your room underneath the door. Neither of you was that bothered by the change in routine anyway; you got more sleep and he got his screen time. Being roommates, understanding each other was key in your relationship, and although things were slightly different, the silent compromise was enough to keep the peace between you.

Or at least, it was enough until you hear three knocks on your bedroom door and a slight knob turn.

“Y/N? Are you awake?”

The whisper takes a while to register in your half-asleep state, and at the realization of his scared tone, you force yourself to shift into a sitting position before responding.

“Mingi? What’s wrong?”

He tiptoes into the room, turning on the light. The bright contrast from your previously dark room makes your eyes close instinctively, your pupils adjusting to Mingi’s blurry figure.

“Promise you won’t think I’m stupid?” he asks, an attentive gaze in his eyes.

The comment makes you laugh as you patted your bed, beckoning him onto the soft surface.

“You’ve been stupid to me, dumbass. Just tell me what’s wrong.”

He shuffles on the pillows, leaning in closer to whisper to you despite no one else being in the house.

“I think there are monsters in my room.”

“Okay, let me get this straight. You watched a Curious George episode about him seeing shadow monsters in his room, and now you think they’re in your room too?”

You can see the pout on his face intensify as he turns all the lights on while walking to his room. You knew the episode he was talking about, the one where the monkey started envisioning oddly shaped shadows as monsters only to later learn they were just figments of his imagination, but you didn’t think it would affect your roommate that badly.

“No! Don’t turn on the light,” he exclaims as you screw open his doorknob, despite the rest of the house being engulfed in light because of his phobia.

“Why not?” you question, watching the door creak open and stepping into the room, pulling him along with you so he won’t run away.

“Look,” he points at an oddly shaped lump, “you can’t tell me that isn’t some evil slug out to get me.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s just—”

“And over there,” he beckons to a tall, conical structure, “that is literally an evil Christmas tree. I’m 100% sure we’re about to die.”

You sigh as you flick on the lights, your suspicions being confirmed.

“Did you even think to turn on the light? These so-called ‘monsters’ are just your pile of dirty laundry that I’ve been begging you to wash and your coat rack that I still can’t comprehend being in this room and not the doorway.”

“You’re right but,” he moves to turn off the light again, “why do they look so different in the dark? They’re shapeshifting! I’m not insane Y/N, just trust me.”

At this point, you’re too mentally and physically exhausted to even care about his antics. In some other period of time, you would’ve indulged his nightmares, but right now it’s far past your bedtime and the only thing on your mind is a long, relaxing sleep.

“Fine. You can sleep in my room tonight. I don’t have stupid coat racks or dirty laundry in my room for you to be scared of, and we can turn on the little night light I still have from third grade. Got it?”

You pretend not to notice the silent cheer he lets out behind your back as you make the trek back to your part of the building, killing the lights as you go. Mingi keeps an arm on your shoulder, and you notice he keeps his gaze on the wall beside him to avoid any potential shapeshifters in the living room.

After a thorough inspection of your room, Mingi deduces that there are indeed no shadow monsters. By then you’re already half asleep, curling into the right side so his hunk of a body has room.

“You sure this is okay?” he questions, stretching his arms and yawning.

Your tired gaze glazes over the ripples of his lean muscles illuminated by your snowman night light before answering with a nod, and you grumble when he flops on the bed and steals too much of your blanket.

“C’mere,” he voices, making grabby hands, “I miss cuddling with you.”

You make the meanest face possible and flip over to the other side, turning away from his seemingly shocked face.

“Wake me up for cuddles when you stop acting like a baby and grow a pair.”

And as you drift into slumber, despite your warnings you still feel the soft weight of his arm curl around your torso, sending you into the sweetest dreams full of fantastical butterflies.

The next night, Mingi is knocking at your door again, albeit a couple of hours earlier than yesterday. He doesn’t even have to speak before you’re glaring at him, hands crossed in annoyance.

“I’m not letting you sleep here again. You stole too much of my blanket last time.”

You don’t mention to him that you had the best sleep of your life.

“That’s why I brought a blanket!” he exclaims, holding up his polka-dot fuzzy bedspread, “I also brought some popcorn so we can watch a movie on your shitty computer.”

Screw him for being thoughtful, and screw him for wearing the same brand of tank top that he did yesterday. Were his muscles always this prominent, or was it your nightlight making you see things?

“Shitty computer?” you repeat, threatening to close the door in his face.

“No! No… I think you misheard. I love your classic, old computer.”

His grin intensifies as you let him in, snapping the nightlight on and setting up the movie on your computer that is indeed shitty. The overheating of the device makes you turn away from his knowing smirk, and as the starting scenes flash across the blue light screen, you reach for the popcorn, only for him to move it out of your reach.

“Can we cuddle now at least? I meant it when I said I missed it.”

You don’t say anything in response, keeping your eyes trained on the screen, but your hand does reach over to grab a kernel, giving him the green light to wrap an arm around your shoulder. You know that if you refused, he would bring up the embarrassing fact of how you woke up curled into his arm, and you weren’t really in the mood to fight a blush on your cheeks.

“You know, I don’t understand why you’re still scared of the dark when Curious George clearly overcomes his fear at the end of the episode.”

“He does?”

You turn to look at him, confused.

“Did you not finish the episode?”

“I haven’t touched the show since the beginning of that episode. I’m scarred.”

You still believe that this is some sort of sick prank Mingi has been playing on you because there’s no way a 23-year-old man would be this frightened over a figment of his imagination. However, it means you don’t have to bear the stupid ape’s squeaky voice as you fall asleep, so you take the win.

“You know you can’t keep sleeping in my room like this. Why don’t you just clear your room so you won’t be afraid anymore?”

“I like the organized chaos.”

“Oh yeah? The organized chaos that shapeshifts into your worst nightmares?”

“So they do shapeshift! See Y/N, I’m not crazy.”

He is crazy, but the way his arm feels around your shoulder is enough to make you stay quiet as you shovel popcorn into your mouth and watch the movie blur before your eyes.

You awake to find yourself in the same position, and although your head is awkwardly and painfully resting in the crook of Mingi’s shoulder, you find that you once again have garnered a good night’s sleep.

Although you can only see the side of his face, his frame is so beautiful that you can’t help but melt into a puddle of nothingness. The sunlight peeking in from the gaps of your blinds illuminates his face in rays so perfectly, and you have the urge to brush his orange-stained hair behind his ears to gain a better view.

Mingi has always been breathtakingly beautiful. You met him a couple of years ago in college, bonding over the uncertainty of where your future would take you. Ending up together in this small yet comfortable apartment together was something you hadn’t expected, but something you’re learning not to take for granted. His silly quirks and endearing behavior are like a magnet, and it’s hard to not have feelings for someone whom you’re so domestic with every day, but you both are busy with your own lives and have never had time to properly explore those feelings.

Falling asleep in each other’s arms is the closest form of intimacy you’ve shared with him, and you’ve learned to cherish and be grateful for it.

Knowing that both of you are bound to end up with a crick in your necks if you stay in this position any longer, you slowly shake him awake, pushing away your thoughts as you feel him stir underneath your palm.

“Mingi, wake up. You’re going to kill me with your complaints if you wake up with sore limbs.”

“I like sleeping in your arms,” he grumbles, and it’s a little too obvious how your heart constrains at the words.

“I know, but I promise you’d feel much better if you slept properly on the bed. I’ll reward you with an amazing breakfast, I promise.”

The mention of food has him relaxing in your arms, and you move so that he’s sleeping normally against the pillow. The thoughts of waking up next to him and cooking breakfast for him are all very normal, but they’re so domestic that it has your early-morning mind go haywire at the implications.

You tell your brain to shut up and get off the bed to make breakfast before Mingi cusses you out.

Mingi appears in your bed the next day, the day after that, and many more days after that. At this point, your room has now become a shared room, and Mingi has become a prominent figure in your sheets. Hell, your pillows have even started to smell like him, and you don’t know whether you find it annoying or endearing.

A smaller part of your brain, one that you choose to push aside, fears that you’ve grown too attached to this routine. Sure, before Mingi’s monkey infatuation you’ve woken up next to each other on an occasional morning, arms sore from accommodating each other on the sofa, but you’ve never continuously spent nights with him in the same space regularly like this. Now that the routine has become more frequent, the atmosphere has gone from friendly to something else, and you don’t particularly know if you want to uncover it yet.

Besides, sleeping in the same bed is normal for roommates… right?

“Y/N, sleeping in the same bed with an attractive bachelor that just so happens to be your roommate is definitely not normal.”

Okay, so San agrees to disagree.

“I’m being serious,” he says, shaking you by the shoulder, “you’re going to end up catching feelings, and it’ll either end up with you heartbroken and apartment-less or you getting a new boyfriend. There is a fifty-fifty chance. Don’t risk it.”

You turn to look at Mingi across the room, dressed up in a silk shirt and slacks. His hair is styled in that annoying not-so-styled-but-still-styled manner, and it makes you want to run your fingers through it. Badly. Seeing him sleeveless in the mornings is bad enough, but seeing him cleaned up at a mutual friend’s birthday party makes you want to go feral.

“You should’ve given me that warning before he started sleeping next to me,” you mumble under your breath, but unfortunately San is perceptive, and nothing escapes his ears.

“Great. I can’t believe you already have feelings for him. You’re done for at this point. What is he even so scared of anyway that has him crying in your arms every night?”

You explain the details with a frown on your face, not wanting to mull over any possible rejection you might get from Mingi.

“Oh,” San starts.

“Oh?”

“That changes everything.”

You stare at San with a perplexed gaze, prompting him to elaborate.

“Look, Mingi is stupid, but do you really think he’s that stupid? Come on Y/N, even if he was scared of the dark, he would’ve gotten over it in three days.”

You hit him on the shoulder, causing him to yelp.

“Don’t play with me San,” you berate, watching him clutch the area you just hit, “why else would he be sleeping in my room if he wasn’t scared?”

“The same reason you started having feelings for him! Because you both enjoy waking up next to each other and being together. He likes you Y/N.”

The words drift around in your brain, and you process them for a couple of seconds before glaring at San.

“If he liked me, he would’ve told me.”

“That’s what you think. But do you really know him that well if you couldn’t even figure out the reason he’s been sleeping next to you? What if he’s just scared to tell you?”

San has a point, but you don’t want to admit it. As you watch Mingi beckon you over to try some food on the counter and likely force you to shovel down a disgusting combination of food, you and San share a mutual glance to stop talking about the topic.

However, as you walk over, you can’t help your brain from overanalyzing everything that shouldn’t be. The way he smiles too brightly at you, the way he holds your arm gently as he tugs you over, and the way he keeps you hydrated throughout the night make your head spin. Everything normal suddenly seemed different, and you didn’t know if the change was welcome or not.

Later that night, when you and Mingi return exhausted to your apartment, your brain feels more tired than ever. You’ve never been much of a thinker, but currently, your head feels worse than a hangover, and you don’t want to mull over anything drastic. Keeping your distance from the guy who supposedly has feelings for you back is harder than it seems, but you’re not in the mood to confront him right now.

However, Mingi has other plans. He sits you by the bed, helping you take off your jacket and accessories and untying your shoes. You realize that he’s picked up on your exhaustion, and you feel extremely guilty for wanting to push him away mere seconds ago. He is so charming at this very moment, and you feel nothing but enamored for the love you’ve received from him tonight and all the time you’ve spent together.

The words are flowing out of your mouth before you can even stop yourself.

“Do you like me?”

He stops mid-shoelace, looking up at you. You realize how awkward and uncomfortable of a position this is for him, but it’s too late to turn back now.

“Did it take you this long to notice?”

You feel like you’re being shoved underwater. The world hazes before your eyes, and the words are muffled as they enter your ears.

“What?”

He laughs, and the loss of your senses makes you realize how beautiful of a sound it really is.

“You’ve always called me stupid, but I think you’re the one that’s actually stupid here. I’ve liked you for a while now, silly. Why do you think I help you make dinner when I hate cooking?”

‘Oh’ is the only word floating in your head right now.

“So, the Curious George thing was fake?”

“Kind of. I was a little scared the first night, not going to lie, but after finding out how much I missed sleeping next to you, I figured I’d use it to my advantage. I’m honestly surprised you didn’t figure out or kick me out sooner.”

He sees you bury your head in your hands, too shocked to internalize anything right now.

“Hey,” he says, holding your shoulder, “you don’t need to say anything right now. I know it’s probably a lot to take in, and I know you’re probably exhausted after that party. Just sleep on it, okay? We can talk later.”

He finishes untying your laces and gets up to leave, but you pull on his shirt, stopping him in his tracks.

“Don’t go,” you whisper, “I like it when you’re here.”

He smiles so gently, so so gently that you want to stare at him forever.

“Alright, I’ll stay,” he whispers back, despite no one else being in the house, “do you want me to continue sleeping next to you?”

“Yeah,” you breathe out after a pause.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

#text #ateez x reader #ateez fluff #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #mingi #mingi x reader #mingi fluff #mingi scenarios #mingi imagines #song mingi #song mingi fluff #song mingi x reader #song mingi imagines #song mingi scenarios #kpop #kpop x reader #other grps

[junggunz]

touch ft. dg | 🔞

summary: sex won't fix your relationship problems. but you can at least try. cw: fem!bodied reader, SMUT, tiny crumb of plot, established relationship, make up sex, fingering, oral (m and f receiving) , really mild orgasm denial, p in v, creampie, tbh this is pretty tame so i can't imagine i missed anything...but let me know if i did lol. all characters featured are 18+ wc: 3.5k an: once again. killing two birds with one stone. a request + another song from the playlist checked off. heh

Long days, busy lives. Just can’t find the time…The excuses are the only thing that seems to fill the dead air between you and your boyfriend these days. You two had fallen out of routine, no longer calling each other while he was on tour due to your schedule sapping every last bit of energy out of you. 

Is this where we are now?

So wrapped up in the bustle of your own life, it felt like you didn’t have time to miss your boyfriend. You never imagined the two of you would grow apart like this. Your relationship had survived past tours and you two had no issue keeping the connection alive, but now…you were wondering if he could also feel the way you were falling out of touch with one another. 

On the day DG is finally back, a small part of him hoped that you would text or call him to welcome him home. However, it’s only a fleeting feeling as he’s swarmed by crazed fans waiting for him at the gate once he gets off the plane and the desire to be alone to decompress outweighs everything. By the time you had finally realized he had returned, it was late into the night and you figured he would be sleeping already. Your fingers ghost over the screen of your phone, hovering above the letters of the keyboard to send him a quick text. You type a message, then delete it. Typing out several variations of a ‘welcome back, I missed you’ the words never get to him and that’s when you start to realize, maybe things were really over this time.

Dating an idol wasn’t for the weak. And to make things extra difficult, you were trying to date an idol when your own life leaves little time to yourself—let alone another human with needs of their own— of course your relationship would start to feel hollow after spreading yourself thin just to get a measly hour or so together. During the five minute coffee break you set aside for yourself in the afternoon, these thoughts push themselves to the forefront of your mind, demanding to be heard and acknowledged for the first time in months. 

It’s an internal argument between yourself as you wonder if you're the main culprit in all this. Maybe if you just put in a little more effort, things wouldn’t feel this way. But also, a relationship involves two people; why wasn’t your boyfriend reaching out? You wanna be understanding as you think about how much effort he has to put in to keep his personal life away from the gaze of prying eyes and spectators…but it’s just not making anything better. So, with the last minute you have of your little break, you send DG a quick text telling him that the two of you should set some time aside to see each other; purposely leaving out the fact you intended on breaking up with him.

Just like many of your other ‘dates’, you show up at DG’s penthouse once the two of you were able to find a day where both of you were free. The large space that was his living room feels just borderline claustrophobic after the two of you exchange a strained greeting. It’s like you were strangers again. 

“You wanna end things, don’t you?” DG suddenly asks, causing you to jolt at the mere sound of his words; taken back by how easily he was able to see through you. 

Your jaw trembles as your mouth seems to disconnect from your brain, all possible word combinations to form a response slipping your mind. Unable to meet his eyes, everything about your body language lets him know that his assumption was right. He knew you better than you knew yourself, what a fool you were to think that he wouldn’t notice. And how stupid was he to not say something sooner. Over the last weeks, the emotional distance between the two of you magnified the physical space between the two of you and he didn’t want to believe it. But now that you two were finally in the same room, he didn’t feel any closer to you. 

“Is there anything we can do to fix this?” He questions in a somber voice, reaching out and caressing your arm with a gentle hand. 

“I don’t know.” You answer quietly. 

The response was only a half truth. You knew that you wanted to restore the connection between the two of you; but the issue was not knowing how to fix things. You hear DG hum softly as he mulls over your words, thinking carefully about how to continue this discussion. Studying your body language and the expression you wear, he picks up on the fact that you don’t really want to end things. Knowing your personality, if you were really over it, you would have left by now. Lingering around was never a part of your prerogative. 

“What’s with the rush to end things? We can take all the time we need to work things out if you’re not certain about breaking up.” DG suggests. “I promise to be worth your time.” He adds in with a sly smile when you don’t immediately deny him, pulling you into his embrace as he stares you down.

You seriously can’t think of any reason to reject him right now. In fact, the sensation of being enveloped in his warmth makes you wonder if physical intimacy was a sufficient bandage for the rough patch you were going through— the more difficult issues could be discussed later when you had a clearer idea of what you expected out of this relationship. Right now, make up sex was looking like the best option to restore the connection you had missed. 

Giving in, the two of you scramble down the hall to his bedroom in a record amount of time before DG pins you to the bed and is on top of you while you have your arms loosely draped around his shoulders, kissing on your neck and softly biting at the flesh while his hands venture under your shirt to grope your breasts. A small moan escapes you as he aggressively kneads the supple flesh through the fabric of your bra. He then reaches behind you and you instinctively arch your back so he could unhook your bra and you immediately pull off your shirt; the padded undergarment following after. Now that there was more skin exposed, DG was able to trail his lips from your neck down to your chest. Cupping your breasts in his hands, his mouth latches onto one of your nipples. Tongue flickering over the perky bud, he eagerly tastes your skin before sinking his teeth into it. You gasp in surprise at the slight pain only for DG to comfortingly swirl his tongue around your nipple and soothe the flesh. When his mouth goes to attend to the other breast, you find yourself growing more needy and move ever so slightly so you could grind against the growing bulge in his pants. Both of you moan at the contact before DG leaves your chest and captures your lips in a passionate kiss; his hands going to cup your cheeks. Tentatively, you return his kiss and try to emulate the same emotion but the surge of intimacy after spending so much time apart makes it feel like the first time all over again. Nonetheless when he breaks the kiss to see how you're faring, your cheeks are flushed and you can't help but feel shy. 

“Are you doing okay?” He asks teasingly. When you open your mouth to scold him, you're cut off by DG’s tongue slipping into your mouth and immediately greeting yours. Pleasantly surprised by the notion, you let your tongues tangle with each other; thoroughly tasting one another. During the heated liplock, DG’s hands find their way back to your bare chest and play with your sensitive nipples. Continuing the kiss despite it gradually becoming more sloppy, you keep urgently grinding your lower halves against each other; desperate for more contact. 

DG then sneakily slips his hand past your pants and panties; his fingers pressing against folds then rubbing gingerly. The action makes you aware of just how turned on you were, feeling DG spread your arousal before slipping two of his fingers inside you. The sudden penetration causes you to break the kiss as you toss your head back in pleasure and let out a shaky moan. Feeling the way that your walls pulsed and clenched around his fingers chipped away at DG’s patience. As much as he wanted to rush things, he had something to prove to you. So, as he slowly started to move his fingers in and out you, he watched your expression carefully. You lay beneath him with your cheeks flushed, lips parted softly and eyes closed. Giving a particularly deep thrust and curling his digits slightly, you moaned out loud, your hips lurching towards him. Liking the dramatic response, he repeated the action and started going faster. Much to his enjoyment, you started writhing beneath him and moaning more frequently; your hands going to grip his biceps for some sort of stability. 

“Ah, fuck.” You whimper out breathlessly when you feel DG brush past a particularly sensitive spot. Your eyes briefly flutter open and you catch a glimpse at his face; eyes dark and pooling with lust as he observes you carefully. You accidentally make direct eye contact with DG and immediately get nervous, then look away closing your eyes. But he catches it.

“Look at me again or else I’ll stop.” he murmurs, his actions slowing down. As a knee jerk response, you start bucking your hips against his fingers to get more friction. However, keeping to his word, DG totally halts his actions. Your eyes snap open and you turn to look at DG again. You're greeted by a smug expression on his face and you stare at him impatiently.

“Well?” You question. “I can do this myself if you don't-”

Your words get cut short by DG's lips on yours as his fingers are rapidly thrusting in and out of you again. Moaning into the kiss, your grip on his arms tighten as you feel your walls starting to contract around his fingers. Breaking the kiss to catch your breath, you pant softly, meeting eyes with DG. You both exchange looks of mutual desire before his thumb attends to your clit; giving you even more pleasure and making your legs tremble slightly. As his thumb rubs gentle circles over the small bundle of nerves in tandem with his fingers inside you, you feel your climax building rapidly. Incessantly moaning, you beg DG to keep going. Naturally, he obliged, urging you to finish. 

“I'm gonna cum-” you whimper out, shutting your eyes tight as you brace yourself for the oncoming wave of bliss that was just on the horizon. 

“Cum for me.” DG demands, staring at you intently as he waits for you to come undone under his touch. Those three words falling from his lips was enough for you to send you over the edge, your walls spasming around his fingers; letting pleasure wash all over you. Laying limp against the mattress, trying to collect your thoughts after the intense orgasm, the sound of DG's clothes hitting the floor snaps you out of your daze and you realize that the main event hasn't even started. 

Slowly, you sit up and glance over at him getting undressed. At the sight of DG being totally naked, your jaw falls open slightly and you quickly regain composure before he could see your expression. As soon as DG takes a step closer to rejoin you on the mattress, you crawl over to the edge of the bed and immediately wrap your fingers around the base of his cock while one hand keeps you balanced. 

Your lips slowly encase the tip of cock, your tongue massaging the underside before you gradually take more of his length into your mouth. DG groans lowly at the contact, his hand going to grip your hair and gives a small buck into your mouth. You gag a little at the action but nonetheless, suck him off eagerly. Salivating on his length to a point where it felt excessive, the lewd slurping noises that came from your mouth seemed so loud in the room. DG didn't seem to mind at all, and in fact it had only made him more excited. 

The slickness of your mouth had sent him spiraling into a euphoria he hadn’t felt in what seems like ages. He was intoxicated by the feeling and had gotten so wound up by it, he took you by surprise when he tightened his grip on your hair and started guiding your movements. The look of bliss on DG's face was erotic enough for you; head tilted back with his eyes closed and lips parted. You bob your head along DG's length with his aid, fighting your gag reflex each time he bucks into your mouth. It goes on for what feels like eons and you wonder if you'd even be able to close your mouth when he's done. His cock begins to throb in your mouth and he immediately pulls you off; small strings of saliva lewdly connecting you to him still before they snap. Hair a mess, drool on your face and wearing a slightly dazed look, DG was more than pleased by the sight of you so disheveled. 

Once again, you somehow found yourself laying on the bed with DG on top of you after he had finally removed your pants. Kneeling between your spread legs, you were totally exposed to him. The feelings of shyness you had experienced earlier were returning as DG had just ogled you while his hands gripped your thighs, keeping your legs spread before him. 

“Are you gonna do something!?” You ask in frustration, feeling your body heat up.

“Don't mind me, just saying grace before I eat.” He snickers before lifting your hips from the bed and diving in to lap up the wetness that had accumulated between your legs.

Everything happened so fast, you barely processed what he had said to you before feeling his tongue dragging along your pussy. You let out a shaky sigh at the sensation, instinctively your hands go to grip DG's hair to keep him in place. He buries his face into your snatch, tasting you thoroughly and making you cry out. His tongue is relentless and leaves no part of you untouched. When the pink muscle slips inside of you, you whine at the notion because you know there's something that's much thicker and much longer that you could have inside of you instead. 

You thought you would have been able to hold out longer but each flick of his tongue starts to feel like a tease. It wasn't enough. After getting a preview of his cock, you needed it inside you now.  But alas, DG continued to tease you with his tongue and wouldn't stop until he decided he had enough. His tongue explores your hole, tasting your inner walls and slurping lewdly at what seemed like a never ending stream of your juices. When DG pulls away, you assume he's had his fill but he had just moved on to attack your clit. Due to your sensitivity, you started writhing under his touch. 

“N-no more,” you whimper breathlessly. “Just fuck me.” 

You can feel him smirk against your skin before he finally separates from you; his face glistening with your arousal and a smug expression across his features.

Resituating himself between your legs, he taps the head of his cock against your folds before easing himself inside of you. Both of you moan at the connection; your insides elated about finally being filled to the hilt. You wrap your arms around him and pull him in for a kiss, tasting yourself on his lips. For a few moments, DG remains still inside of you as the two of you engage in a messy make out until your essence no longer stained him. 

Once he pulls away, he throws your legs over his shoulders, making you squeak in surprise before he takes no time in aggressively pounding into you. Each thrust has you wanting more; absolutely adoring the way DG perfectly filled you up. He was consistent in his movements and showed no signs of letting up until you were both satisfied. As much as you had wanted to stay quiet and not let DG have the joy of knowing how good he made you feel at the moment, it was no use. Even if you had tried to remain quiet, your body would give you away to him; whether it be your walls spasming around his dick, getting wetter with every action, or your legs shaking. They were all telltale signs to DG that you were completely under his control for the night. 

“God, you feel so good.” DG groans out, giving you an extra hard thrust with every word. You clutch at the sheets desperately as if they were a lifeline because you felt like you were gonna pass out from all the pleasure you had been receiving. Your senses were totally overwhelmed by DG and at this point, he wasn't just filling your holes, he filled your mind too. Besides thinking about what he was doing to you now, you thought about other possible erotic acts the two of you could engage in at another time. 

After the relentlessly hard and intense fucking, DG removes your legs from his shoulders, panting heavily, leaning his forehead against yours while you gazed into each other's eyes. His thrusts had slowed down tremendously but they were still just as deep. The intimacy of this moment had somehow managed to increase the lust you felt by tenfold. You wrapped your arms around DG’s sturdy frame, moving your hips to meet his thrusts. Craving a connection more raw than anything, your hands are gently pushing on his hips to urge him to pull back. 

“Fuck me from behind.” You tell DG almost immediately after he slips out of you and creates some space between you. 

You turn over and get on all fours, sticking your ass out towards DG, urging him to hurry up. Seeing how eager you were, you hear DG chuckle softly before he rams his cock into your waiting hole. Getting a firm grasp on your waist, DG begins thrusting into you at merciless speed. As your throat had become too tired to moan, you could only whimper as you took his cock over and over. 

DG had forced you into an arch, your ass up while your chest was pressed against the mattress. The new angle had DG hitting a spot you didn't know existed within you. Every time the tip of his cock brushed against the spot, you would see stars. 

“H-Harder!” You beg him desperately, trying to move your hips against his but the grip he has on you keeps you mostly stationary. 

Nonetheless, DG’s hips start snapping against yours with such ferocity; you had to prop yourself up on your elbows so you didn't slip away from him. The sound of skin slapping against each other resounded loudly in the room; almost loud enough to cover up the lewd squelches from your wetness every time DG thrusted into you. With the repeated stimulation of your sweet spot, you felt yourself coming undone rapidly. As your orgasm built within you, your walls throbbed around DG’s cock, urging him to finish. Though tempting, he refused to climax until you did first. 

Your thoughts were so jumbled that when you had finally released all over DG’s length, you couldn't find the words to announce it and were only able to let out a long moan. Walls twitching and sensitive, you had quietly prayed DG was nearing his limit and couldn't hold out any longer because you weren't sure how much more you could handle. 

“Fuck, I'm gonna cum.” You hear him breathily mutter behind you. 

His words cause you to tighten up around him once more; shocked by the fact that was enough to trigger a second smaller orgasm within you. Your walls had such a vice grip on him, he was worried he wouldn't be able to pull out in time. 

“Can I cum inside?” DG asks, desperation evident in his tone as he tried to hold off until he got your answer. You had managed to get out a tired ‘yes’ in response before he gave you an impossibly deep thrust and released his load into your pussy.  

The warmth that had now filled you was the final straw for you and you took the tiny bit of energy you had left to pull yourself off his length before laying flat on the bed; closing your eyes and letting sleep overcome you. As cliche as makeup sex tends to be, the moments of passion you share with DG do a mighty fine job of reminding you how much chemistry there was between the two of you. 

And being able to wake up next to him for the first time in ages would make you fall in love all over again.

#lookism x reader #lookism smut #dg x reader #dg smut #dg scenarios #junggunz.txt

[margumis]

right down the line

gn! reader x keigo takami / confession fluff

you and keigo had been acquainted since you were 18 years old, him starting up his agency and you graduating from UA. at 20 you two became friends, like proper friends, confide everything to one another friends, knowing everything about each other, seeing past that faux cocky hero exterior friends, stolen glances friends, wishing you could kiss him friends.

that afternoon you found keigo flying in and landing not so gracefully on your balcony. shit, it was raining.

he found the handle to the glass door like it was second nature, and at this point you were sure it was. just as it was second nature for him to find his place on your floor in front of your spot on the couch, skipping the part where you plea to let him take care of you.

it was second nature to get up and find your softest towel before returning behind keigo to preen his wings with care he's never known. the feeling of cold wet rain was nothing he ever looked forward to, until he knew there would be someone he could go to that filled his body with warmth before he got the chance to even dry off.

there was nothing new about all of this, this routine was something of a sanctuary for the both of you. keigo would fly to your apartment almost nightly, even when you had your own patrols, because your place was warm, lived in. your place welcomed him with open arms that didn't let go. you didn't let go.

he slept in your bed, he ate your food, it took time but he finally allowed himself to take up space. he allowed himself to exist through more than just his presence.

and maybe it was the lack of childhood socialization that made him think that friends did this. friends slept together and spent nearly every night together, cooking dinner somewhat together, friends spent entire patrols worried about each other and going as far as leaving one feather with you every morning he left for patrols before you. when you left before him he snuck one into any pocket on your costume. he had to know you were safe.

and he knew, he knew there was something more behind the label friends between the two of you. but what if this was all some sort of pathetic projection of his lack of affection growing up? what if the thump in his chest wasn't shared? what he was the only one stealing glances of your sleeping form, wishing to cross that invisible barrier between you and him on your bed.

you grew to love that crimson color that brandished every feather he used to keep an eye on you. in hindsight it was probably more difficult to not see a bright red feather greatly contrasting everything else. but you allowed each one to stay to offer him that small sense of peace.

there was nothing different about the way he looked at you over his shoulder whilst you preened his soaked feather for him to ask about dinner tonight, "can I pick dinner tonight, I'm really craving-"

"yakitori?"

he feigned a scoff, "I wasn't going to say that actually"

"oh? well then what is it?"

"yakitori"

you swear you could feel the shit eating grin he was wearing before you even saw it. but you indulged him as it was already among your dinner plans already assuming how tonight would go.

something about rainy nights made keigo cling to you more. he would stalk over your shoulders as you cooked dinner, attempting to help with the process. humming along to your shuffled playlist you had just for cooking.

"hey kei? you said you want to help right?"

his eyes visibly lightened from beside you, he was semi-banished from doing too much in the kitchen after multiple kitchen incidents that nearly incinerated your entire apartment complex.

"yeah what can I do?"

"could you make the sauce?"

"oh cmon?? that's it? sauce duty?"

"would you rather just stand there and watch?"

a slight pout peeked from his lips as he muttered a small and sassy "whatever" before he started googling different yakitori sauce recipes, gauging which ones sound the best and which ones he think you would like.

"hey since im actually doing something does that mean I can play music??"

"yeah go for it"

but you didn't realize what bird brain was scheming. because he was feeling more than just clingy tonight. he was feeling bold.

he queued up an older sounding song, one that felt familiar to you but the lyrics weren't quite making it to your brain so you listened intently.

keigo was swaying on the balls of his feet as the song played, properly singing the words, and when he realized he caught your attention with the song he made a show out of it. serenading you with his idea of some subliminal love confession.

'you've been as constant as a northern star, the brightest light that shines'

and god it did cross your mind that this was a confession. it made your heart race and ears turn hot. your head was spinning with the idea. but you pushed it down.

keigo set down everything he was holding, making his way over to you to the rhythm still singing along as he grabbed your hands silently asking you to sway with him.

'yeah, this is my way of tellin' you, that every day I'm lovin' you so much more'

you felt that warm flush coming back to you as he he swayed with you, hand in hand, practically singing this damn song to you. his honey eyes were suddenly too much, too much to make eye contact.

'and it's been you, woman, right down the line'

the song ended, whatever song that came after falling onto deaf ears. he was still holding you, a borderline nervous look flashing on his face.

it's just a song it's just a song it's just a so-

"can I kiss you?"

and god you almost didn't hear it over the ringing in your ears. and you almost, almost forgot to reply with a small nod of your head. and you almost didn't register the closing gap between the two of you. but the ringing stopped, and that hot feeling dissipated when his mouth found yours. when he pulled you deeper. kissing you like a man starved, like he had waited an eternity for this.

truthfully he has been waiting for an eternity. an eternity for you to flood his senses like this, forcing himself not to overwhelm you with the sheer weight of his want.

when you two finally pulled apart, you noticed the way his wings were fanning out behind him, unable to hide the way he was yearning for more. his face flushed when he caught on to what you were smiling about, trying to tuck his wings behind him.

you both stood there, basking in the realization of all the lines that have been crossed, but understanding that unknowingly those lines were crossed a long time ago.

"kei?" your voice felt too loud in the quiet of the kitchen now.

"hm?"

"what was that song?"

"it's called right down the line, why?"

"I just think it's my new favorite" you smiled at him and he matched yours with his own.

"hey does this mean we can sleep without that weird space between us tonight?"

and you almost laughed until you saw the sincere look in his eyes.

"yeah keigo, no more space between us"

a/n: this was very extremely self indulgent and possibly ooc? let me know about that bc I can be delusional at times.

#keigo #keigo takami #keigo takami x reader #keigo x reader #takami keigo x reader #hawks fluff #hawks #bnha hawks #hawks headcanons #hawks imagine #hawks mha #hawks x reader #hawks x you #mha hawks #I do genuinely suck at ending things

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡ Being Poly w/ Stray Kids {Summer Vacation D1} ♡

♡ I got a request for some poly fluff where you get to see how your boyfriends take care of you. I figured there's no better time than your first summer vacation together to experience it ♡

♡ Reader is a chubby babe ♡

♡ Felix ♡

the one you wake up to because he's been cuddling you all night, only really moving to go to the bathroom

has the morning voice of a demon but is a total angel, giving you kisses while asking about your dreams/how you slept

comes with you to do your morning skin routines together, cracking jokes to make you smile when you start feeling grumpy about being up so early

stays behind to straighten up the bathroom because he has to make sure his love eats breakfast before she starts the day

♡ Bang Chan ♡

fell asleep 2 hours ago but set his alarm to wake up and make you all of your favorite breakfast foods from back home

has a list of things to do/sights to see during this trip that he thought you might like. it took him weeks to put it together but you're worth the effort

set the room he's sharing with bini up just the way you like it so that you can come sleep with them tonight

massages your legs while you eat your food because being curled up in a cuddle ball for eight hours has left you a little tight

♡ Changbin ♡

picks out a pair of comfy clothes for you to wear and helps put your hair up into a cute, albeit messy, ponytail♡ changbin salon ♡

fills his backpack with ice water and whatever you want so you have everything you need for the run along the beach he's taking you on

puts aside his typically strict approach to fitness to turn the "run" into a playful game of tag that finally wakes you up for the day

gives you a piggyback ride when you get tired and pauses every time you hint that you see something you might be interested in

♡ Hyunjin♡

has the shower running for you when you get back to the house. he joins you if you'd like him to or hangs around outside talking about the most random things with you

already picked out an outfit for you to wear today so that the two of you match and encourages you to take your time with makeup

brings you with him to browse through cute shops on the boardwalk, buying you little souvenirs to take home

convinces you to pose for pictures for him and surprises you with them in a scrapbook down the line

♡ Lee Know ♡

steals you away to take you on a car ride to a super secret destination. also maintains his self control when Han and I.N insist on coming

said secret destination ends up being the kitty cafe you've been talking about every day since it popped up in your Insta feed

spends a good amount of money renting out a private room where you can stay as long as you want. you even get to name a cat

comforts you when you get a little teary eyed because you don't want to leave those sweet babies behind

♡ Han ♡

sees an arcade and immediately thinks it's the perfect thing to take your mind off of the fact that you, unfortunately, can't have 30 fur babies

goes super hard at every game he plays to make sure he wins enough tickets to get you the plushie that you want

distracts the other two completely and totally on accident when you're playing against them so that you never lose

keeps asking if you need anything/if everything's okay when the arcade starts to fill up more since he wants you to be comfortable

♡ I.N ♡

rides in the backseat with you, controlling the aux to shuffle through the playlist he made for you

has zero hesitation when it comes to singing along to songs with you, screaming the lyrics at the top of his lungs. he loves a good duet

rolls the windows down so that you can feel the ocean air and fixes your hair when the wind blows it all over

lets you take a nap on him if you get a little sleepy, quietly nagging Lino not to hit any bumps or make any sharp turns because he wants you to sleep peacefully

♡ Seungmin ♡

builds a fort out of pillows and blankets for the two of you to hide out in while the others bicker about what to do for the rest of the day

has you bring your plushie/souvenirs with you into said adorable fort because he wants to hear every little detail about your day so far

goes outside to get the grill started for dinner, knowing that the collective fear of him burning the place down will bring the other guys together

keeps you on his lap even when the others whine about it, sheilding you from the chaos of a stray kids dinner even if it means occasionally becoming the chaos himself

#stray kids x chubby reader #stray kids x you #stray kids fluff #stray kids x y/n #stray kids x reader #poly stray kids #chubby reader #plus size reader

[hillbillyoracle]

How to Create Downtime Menus

As a lot of my posts are, this one was inspired by a conversation with my partner. She seemed to think some of my ideas were helpful so I thought I'd write them up and share them here.

I use a combination of these ideas to do two things - redirect myself when I get stuck doomscrolling/freezing/obsessing and redirect myself when I'm stuck on the "must be good, must be productive" hamster wheel and can't seem to stop doing chores until I'm fucking exhausted or have pushed/hurt myself. Knowing you need to stop is one thing - knowing what to do instead is another.

Not all of these will work for every person at every time. Pick one or two that seem interesting and give them a whirl.

Habit of the Month

This is a small habit I can do in about 5-10 minutes a day. These are sometimes habits that I want to audition for my lineup or just want to focus on as a way of rebooting a given area of my life. Physical habits have been things like stretching, a walk, putting on moisturizer, drinking water, making tea, etc. Emotional habits have been things like stream of consciousness journaling, bullet journaling, recording myself venting, etc. Spiritual habits have been things like meditating, altar work, reading sutras, tarot readings, etc.

If I'm stuck in a loop and I haven't done that task yet, it serves as an easy win that feels moderately meaningful to accomplish. This is easier to do than longer or less interesting tasks.

Side Quests

These are little challenges I'd like to accomplish that are 100% fun and completely optional. They are specific and can me completed within a given time frame - usually a month. They usually aren't the most meaningful to keep them more fun and so I'm not letting myself down if I don't opt to complete it.

They've been things like:

The Minor Expert Challenge - read three books in one subject

The Kanopy Critic Challenge - use up all of my Kanopy credits that month

The Regal Freegal Challenge - download all the albums/songs I can on Freegal that month

The Monthly Playlist Challenge - create a playlist of the month where each song represents something about each day of that month; like a playlist diary

The Reverse Tarot Draw Challenge - pick/list a tarot card you best think represents each day of a given month or other time period; like a tarot card diary

The 100 Words Challenge - learn 100 words in a foreign language

As you can see, I prefer things that are pretty low energy friendly so I can work on them on days I'm super tired. Just little chronic illness things.

Alphabet Lists

I use these for my cleaning routines actually but I also have been trying them with my downtime. The way it works is you list out the alphabet and choose one self care or hobby task you'd like to do for each. They don't have to start with the same letter, it just serves as an easy way to limit how many you pick and keep track of what you've done. It's satisfying to cross off the whole list.

Tasks I put on these are things like

A - paint my nails

B - crochet a charity hat

C - write 5 letters for Letters Against Isolation

D - send a letter to a friend

E - play a solo rpg

F - play a solo board game

G - complete a puzzle

etc

They're fun tasks I'm not currently doing as often as I'd like but chill enough that it doesn't matter when precisely I do them more often. I try to pick tasks that are roughly 30 minutes to an hour long though some definitely take longer. I like to complete these roughly monthly but I try to complete a whole list before I start it again. Anything I just did not feel like doing and kept skipping gets scratched out and I rewrite a new list with new item to replace those. And I start again.

Whenever I'm like ugh I don't know what to do with myself, I try to pick at least one thing on the list and give it a try for 5 minutes. If I don't like it after that I can just put it away and pick something else.

10x10

10x10 lists are a different take on a similar idea. It's a list of 10 things you'd like to do at least 10 times in a given time period. Mine tend to be on the seasonal or annual timescale but maybe you're intense and prefer a monthly one. If I don't complete them in a given time period, I just continue with it until I'm done. Better to complete it on an altered timeline than not at all.

For me these tend to be slightly bigger tasks that take a little more planning or energy. I'm not totally sure why I use them this way since you could definitely use them for smaller tasks but that's just the space they occupy for me.

So examples of what would be on my list would be things like:

Grab a hot chocolate from the coffee shop (x10)

Complete a PokemonGo event (x10)

Have a spa night and watch a movie (x10)

Do something extra nice for my partner (x10)

Try a new game (x10)

Find a geocache (x10)

etc

Filing up a little 10x10 grid is pretty satisfying. Much more so than anxietying myself into my bed for the equivalent amount of time.

Seasonal Bucket Lists

I really enjoy making these though I really struggle with the current season (Spring) given my allergies. There's this idea my partner has told me about in DBT where you try to recall positive moments to help "build a life worth living". I think seasonal bucket lists are really good at helping with this for me. I look back on the seasons I made these lists way more fondly than the ones I didn't.

They generally center on seasonal activities I don't want to miss out on. So for summer that's stuff like going for a night swim/skinny dip, getting 5-10 good cloud photos, playing a yard game (like cornhole), seeing a street concert, etc. I also try to take pictures of those (if they don't already involve them) so I can reflect on them later and enjoy the residual happiness.

Conclusion

The point of these isn't to overwhelm you with options. It's just to have enough ideas prepped that you can find something no matter your energy level or time you're working with.

Remember - rest and enjoying yourself is necessary for human health. Folks how get good rest and experience flow states more regularly tend to heal better. People who spend time on what they enjoy are often more enjoyable to be around.

It's never a waste of time to make yourself happy.

#life advice #adhd #love a good list

[icallhimjoey]

"Good boy. Time for supper."

JAIL. IDK IF IT'S HORNY JAIL OR REGULAR, JUST JAIL. 😩

well then LOCK ME TF UP because our boy's STARVING. here's the last part, and obviously, it's all 18+ and i really wont like you if you're a minor and continued reading. like, i genuinely wont like you as a person, so go sit with that. OKAY EVERYONE ELSE, ENJOY! Wordcount: 6.6K

---

Double Or Nothing

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

You couldn’t think about it. Not in detail, but also not in the general sense. When you woke up the next morning, you let yourself briefly dip a toe into everything you could remember of the night before, and then you shut the door on it. You were halfway through breakfast leant up against the counter when Izzy rushed in, hair still wet from the shower. She looked… bad.

“What time did you get back last night?”

You’d absolutely heard her come in about fifty minutes after Joe had left. You had to pretend to be asleep already for fear of Izzy being able to read your mind since you weren’t able to think of anything else then. Or even, now. But it was the morning and there was routine, and it was easier to pretend nothing had happened the night before when there were little jobs that needed doing.

Izzy blinked at you, an empty stare somehow full of regret, and said, “I wasn’t meant to have any drinks.”

Her hangover had been the focus of the morning, which was a fucking godsend. Meant you didn’t even have to mention the bet. Didn’t have to lie about what the favour had been.

You had your eyes on your phone like a hawk all day. Couldn’t leave it out of sight, and were disappointed every time you got a message from someone else. Made you think, “shut up” when you didn’t see Joe’s name on your screen.

Until Joe did text.

“today’s favour will be over at mine”

And like a stupid teenager, you waited four minutes before you replied. Couldn’t come across too eager, could you?

“uh oh… should I be scared?”

Maybe Joe was going to have you make him dinner, or clean the floors. Something mundane he didn’t want to do himself today. You couldn’t possibly let Joe get the idea that you hoped for a repeat of the night before. If Joe was so hellbent on you winning the bet, that meant that maybe he was also hellbent on making you come on his mouth for seven days.

A girl could dream.

“no”

“ok”

“8ish if you can”

“ok”

You showered just in case. Exfoliated and shaved and sprayed some perfume down low that you walked through, because apparently you really were 16 still and boys thought girls were gross, didn’t they?

When you walked into Joe’s flat, you were glad for the teenager inside of you, because all arrows pointed in the same direction. Joe had a slow playlist going, and he’d lit a scented candle. Just the one. Easy to pretend it was there to get rid of the smell dinner left behind, like it wasn’t there for ambiance. Not that it mattered; the mood lighting took care of the ambiance plenty – cornered floor and table lamps casted the room in warm, soft oranges. 

Before you could even ask what it was Joe needed of you, he said, “Sit.” and like a fucking puppy, you plonked right down in the middle of his sofa without question.

“You understand where this is going,”

You did, but couldn’t let on that you did, though. Even when Joe kneeled in front of you and started removing you shoes.

“I do?”

Joe scrunched his nose, kept undressing your lower half and said, “I think you do. You know, since you won and all,”

Made you give him a deadpan stare, just short of an eye roll. Made him smirk like a naughty schoolboy. One with an ego, though. One that knew he was right and was going to keep the bit going until you verbally agreed with him and would tell him he was right.

Unfortunately for him, you weren’t that easy.

Joe knew that.

Didn’t make trying to get you there less fun though.

You came so quick, it was stupid. Blamed it on his fingers that got involved this time. They’d hooked, and they’d hooked just right. Only two – two was plenty.

Afterwards you’d barely spoken. You’d laughed because you’d just orgasmed on Joe’s sofa – the place where you all watched weird obscure films sometimes, right on the crease between two cushions that you always lost your phone in. It was all so bizarre, you couldn’t do anything other than laugh, and Joe’d looked at you a second, then asked, “Gonna admit it?” And of course, you weren’t going to admit anything. Silly boy.

Joe had then gotten up and had stepped away – had to adjust himself in his jeans on the first step. You’d pretended you hadn’t seen and used the privacy Joe’d given by turning his back to quickly get your bottom half back into your clothes.

“I need to know what to tell people when they ask about these favours,” you looked over your shoulder and saw Joe blow out the candle. Fucking knew it was there just for the occasion. Men are so transparent.

“Mmh,” Joe thought a second, then shrugged. Said he’d go with whatever you’d tell ‘em, and he seemed not fussed. Not like how you were fussed. You didn’t need your friends knowing about this, but Joe seemed to carry an air of we’re adults, who gives a shit what we get up to, and maybe that was the better way of going about it.

Then Joe said he was going for a shower, and whilst zipping up your ankle boots, you’d gone, “I’ll see myself out!” all chipper and upbeat, like you hadn’t just shared wild intimacy together.

Wednesday had happened in the same fashion.

Joe had texted, “come to my place again”.

You thought you were being cute when you replied, “what for”.

Joe replied, “come at my place again” and you’d blushed and deleted the message straight after because no one could ever accidentally come across that.

Joe’d eaten you out on his sofa again, and you were surprised that you didn’t like how you weren’t in his bed. You were also surprised that afterwards, you were so into it, you wanted to return the favour. But just like before, Joe was quick to slip into his bathroom. You didn’t want to assume it was to rid himself of the blood and pressure that had pooled in his underwear, but you didn’t know why else Joe couldn’t really hang out with you for a little while after.

By now, it had become a little easier to look him in the eye, though.

On the fourth day of the week of favours, there was no denying how the rest of the weeks was going to go. The two of you would meet, either at his or at yours if you had the place to yourself, Joe would get his head between your legs until you felt dizzy and weak with want, and then he’d try to make you admit that you’d won. There were no kisses, no cuddles and no hands held. It truly felt like a friend doing another friend a favour, except the other way around.

And it was fine.

Joe kept his attention down where he was supposed to, and you tried to focus on the nice things, like how Joe didn’t high five you after. And how he didn’t force eye contact during. You know, things other men had done that had made you give up on their potential.

Yea, it was weird. But it was also nice. Nice was a weird way of describing it, but it was your first thought when Joe jokingly licked the inside of your leg until he heard frustrated huffs coming from above him. He had to stop because he was laughing so much, and you’d shoved him and then pretended to want to get out of your bed which turned into a little wrestle full of giggles that only stopped because he’d latched onto not your leg. Reduced you into a whimpering mess immediately.

That was nice.

It was different when it was with a friend and not some weird guy of an app. Better.

But for whatever reason, on Friday you’d woken up in a horrid mood and hadn’t been able to shake it all throughout the day. After work, you kind of wanted to go home and sit in the bath for three hours. Have wine and watch a comfort film from your childhood that could easily make you cry, like The Little Princess, or whatever.

“no pub for me tonight”

You sent into the groupchat. Got immediate private replies from both Izzy and Joe.

“got a date planned you haven’t told me about?” from Izzy.

“??” from Joe.

Two other friends made fun of Joe making you do too many things – said, “stop making her unpack your whole flat Joe” and “burnt out on day 5, best send flowers again”. You ignored the groupchat for the time being.

You sent Izzy and Joe the same reply.

“bad day, just want to be home”

Surely, Joe would understand. He had said he wouldn’t force you into doing something you didn’t want to do, and everyone had their off-days, right?

Izzy replied, “promise I’ll be quiet when I get in”

Then, a message in the group chat from her, “everyone else still going?” which trickled in thumbs up emojis over the next hour or so. Also from Joe.

And wow, that went easier than expected. Your skip a day lose a favour rule could’ve made that difficult. The strange sense of relief you felt was welcome after some twat from administration had made your blood boil by e-mailing the whole company about a mistake you’d made, warning everyone not to do the same.

You honestly thought you wouldn’t see Joe that day.

Yet, you weren’t surprised when your doorbell rang, and you saw Joe through the intercom.

“Hey, what–”

“Said I had an early morning and snuck off before anyone could ask what I’d be up to,”

You were in your pajamas – the kind you didn’t really let others see, ever. Were tired, definitely not in the mood, but Joe’d come over for one thing and one thing only.

You buzzed him in on a defeated sigh and waited for him by the front door.

When you didn’t really step aside to let Joe in, Joe slowly squeezed himself past you, his face way too close to yours. Hovered there a second, noses nearly touching.

Always close enough to kiss.

And yet...

“Come on, I’m starving.” Joe said and for the smallest of moments, you thought maybe Joe would make his way over to the kitchen. Find your left-overs to heat up. He didn’t, of course, door of your bedroom already opening.

You looked a bit dazed when you closed the door behind him, because just getting his face close to yours had flipped something inside of you. You swallowed thickly before you turned and made your way over to where Joe had installed himself on your bed.

Lying flat on his back, he smiled when he saw you step out of your pajama bottoms. Licked his bottom lip and beckoned you with two hands near his face.

You’d never sat on someone’s face before, and when you reached to turn the lights off, Joe said, “No. Leave ‘em on.” and seemed genuinely excited for what was about to happen. It was the first time you thought maybe you really were doing him a favour, instead of the other way around.

It was awkward having to bring your core to his mouth, especially since you were able to fucking see all of it. Usually, men would bring their mouths down all by themselves, wouldn’t need you to take any action. The second Joe got his mouth on you, however, no other action of you was needed besides keeping yourself upright.

Which was difficult.

You silently scolded yourself for earlier thoughts of wanting to skip today. This kind of turned everything around and you realized it was the perfect remedy. Joe curled arms around your legs and held on tightly as he worked his tongue in all sensitive spots he knew to find.

But then, about four minutes in, the sound of a key loudly being shoved into its keyhole made both you and Joe freeze.

Izzy.

You checked behind you and saw that, thank fuck, you’d closed your door before climbing onto the bed.

Frozen with fear, neither of your moved for a second, but you both listened. Heard how Izzy tried to be quiet, like she had texted she would do, heard her take off her shoes by the door before slipping into the living room. She shut the door behind her, and you let go of a breath you’d been holding.

“Fuck, okay,” you whispered as quietly as you could. “If you’re quick, she won’t– ah, mhm,”

What you meant was, if Joe was quick to leave, Izzy wouldn’t see him. Not, if he was quick to continue until you orgasmed, because you couldn’t! Not with Izzy in the house! Not from Joe’s mouth in your bedroom with Izzy on the other side of your bedroom wall!

“No, we can’t–”

But Joe was relentless, and your breathy pleas probably didn’t even reach his ears, what with your legs in the way and all. Joe held onto your thighs with newfound strength and continued with more frevour than before. Had you arching your back and slapping your own hands over your mouth to shut you up.

Shit.

You were scared the whole time. Every sense heightened and somehow therefore everything felt… even better. You didn’t like that. The combination of having Joe’s face between your legs, his tongue touching places it hadn’t even gone near before despite this being the fifth day of favours, and fear – legitimate fear, because what would happen if Izzy knew? – felt dangerous.

Somehow, you’d convinced yourself that your whole friendship and whatever else this was with Joe was held together by the fact that this was all a secret.

If your mutual friend, your best one and your flatmate at that, was to walk in with you sat on Joe’s face, it’d be over and done with. The favours would stop, which… were people able to grow attached to something in just five days, do you think? But you’d survive that. Had survived good sex leaving your life before and had always been fine. The whole friendship coming to a screeching halt, however?

It was the worst way to learn, the worst timing to learn, that even just entertaining the thought hurt your own feelings.

Maybe that was why things had never really progressed before. Joe had always been flirty with you. Slapped your ass when he saw the chance, things like that. Would graciously offer his lap whenever all seats would be taken. But until now, you’d always shoved him in return. Made him laugh, which then would make you laugh.

You were sat on Joe’s face, but you kind of wanted to sit on Joe’s lap for a few hours. The other way around so you could stare at his features. Lean in for a kiss if you wanted, one that would be reciprocated.

Have that be normal.

Be around your friends and give in to Joe’s stupid flirting and have all of that be normal.

Not that this seat was bad – it was just... the hem of your top covered half his face. You only got forehead, an eyebrow and tensed forearms when you looked down. Tensed forearms that hugged around your thighs and held you open from the front. You hadn’t even kissed Joe. Couldn’t even remember the last time you hugged.

You were swimming in complex emotions, all layered shit, good and bad and worse and better and the best but simultaneously also the absolutely worst. Your mind wasn’t with it, and it was taking long for you to get there. Was long for Joe to have his head in between your thighs.

You kind of wanted to cry, and you nearly did when Joe suddenly let a hand sneak up under your top to cup a boob.

Joe had never touched the bare flesh of your tits before. You gasped at the touch, but only because you couldn’t moan. Couldn’t be loud. The gasp made Joe sneak up his other hand as well, and it was a little awkward because the arms came up from behind you, but it worked.

Joe knew what he was doing. Got your out of your head and into your body by simple touches under your top and like fucking clockwork, you orgasmed. You bit your lips into your mouth until you swore your teeth broke the skin, stifling as much noise as you could.

Eventually, you flopped over. Fell into the mattress beside Joe, and heard him pant softly.

There was no way Izzy hadn’t heard, you thought.

When you turned your face to look at him, you hissed, “Oh my God, you look insane,” and sat up to use the fabric of the top you were still wearing to wipe at his face. Joe shook with silent laughter, but let you clean him up a little.

Bent over and leant close, skin of your torso bared from where you pulled on your top, Joe’s hand found your side. It almost didn’t touch you, hovered a little and let fingertips brush and you didn’t understand how this feather light touch wrecked you more than Joe’s tongue circling and dipping inside of you had done.

You slowly wiped at Joe’s face for longer than you needed to, let your eyes dance across Joe’s face as he stared up at you.

If you leant down right now, if you just...

You saw how Joe’s eyebrows quirked. Small little movement you wouldn’t have caught had you not been so close to him. Made your breath shudder. Made you think of how Joe didn’t push you away. Didn’t do anything but stare back up at you. Big, brown, shiny eyes. All soft and round.

You didn’t realise you’d slowly lowered down until you felt Joe’s nose touch the side of yours. He nudged you with it, away to the side a little, and you swore he was about to say something, but then you both suddenly heard movement about the flat and were thrown back into reality.

Izzy.

You pulled your top back down and avoided Joe’s eyes as you got up to tiptoe towards the door where you put your underwear back on, ears perked for any noise within the flat that would give away Izzy’s whereabouts. You noticed you still felt panicked, heart in your throat, back of your neck prickling, everything all awful and you remembered the whole day had been bad. This horrible end of it fit just right.

Because it was horrible, wasn’t it?

Your flatmate was about to find Joe in your bedroom.

That need to cry you’d felt when you’d left the office earlier that day reared its head back up.

You didn’t cry, wouldn’t cry. Not until you’d have snuck Joe out of the flat, at least.

Izzy couldn’t know.

If she knew, that would be the end of everything.

Joe hadn’t even kissed you.

A whisper of your name snapped you from your thoughts. Joe was still on your bed but was now getting out of his own clothes. Your eyes grew wider and your brow furrowed because what the fuck was he doing?

“I’ll wait her out,” Joe whispered, and in just a T-shirt and his boxers, he reached for the top of your duvet. “Wait ‘til she’s gone to sleep,”

And your mind raced for a second. Joe was probably right. To avoid your flatmate and any questions afterwards entirely, she’d have to be out cold.

But then you softly said, “You should leave,” because you wanted out of this situation.

Joe had already slipped himself into your bed, underneath the covers.

“I will, won’t be long. Izzy seemed tired,”

“I am tired,” you argued like a prissy teen. You were worried, and you felt cold. A little clammy. Grumpy, and scared still. Vulnerable and raw, and your throat hurt from the whispering and the moans you’d wheezed out.

“Come lay down,” Joe slung back covers to expose your side of your bed, and the thought of doing just that, laying down in your bed with Joe next to you, was making you feel sick. He seemed so cool and casual about it too. Like none of it really mattered.

“No, but, I–I don’t think– what if–”

“It’ll be fine,” Joe’s hushed voice reassured, and you sucked in a sharp breath that you then held. “Come,” Joe whispered again with a little more urgency, beckoning you with an impatient open hand. “Feels like you’re crashing, get into bed before you hurt yourself.”

Crashing?

“Aren’t you–” you started another whispered sentence but were cut off once more, now by Joe’s flat hand slapping down onto the mattrass in feigned frustration, eyes all wide but mouth so close to curling up into a smile.

“Come, here,” Joe ordered through clenched teeth and yea, all right. You could lay down in your bed. Your safe spot. Just, it didn’t feel so safe now that Joe was there.

When you moved into the bed and got comfortable, you felt a little like you were placing your body in a position you thought people looked best in. Like you weren’t a real person who just stepped into her own bed, but were on a film set and this is how they directed you to lay so that it looked best from all angles. You performed laying down. Stupid.

Had to remind yourself Joe was just Joe. That one guy amongst your friends who didn't impress you the way he impressed everyone else.

He was just Joe.

Unlike last week, where you felt it would be too close for comfort to curl onto your side facing Joe, it didn’t feel like there was such a thing as being too close anymore, and so that was exactly what you did now. Laid on your side, hands together and pressed under your head, facing Joe.

Joe did the same but stayed on his side of the bed, leaving plenty of space in between the two of you.

“Better?”

You shrugged with your exposed shoulder. Joe scanned your face for a second, searching eyes roaming freely and then he frowned a little.

“Sorry, I hope I didn’t...” Joe trailed off.

“You didn’t,” you were quick to reply, but you felt a tear escape your eye. It was easy to hide, since it was the eye closest to the pillow, and you thought maybe Joe wouldn’t have seen. You felt how it wet the skin between your fingers before it disappeared into the fabric.

“No, but, you seem... not okay,”

You couldn’t look him in the eye and kept eyes trained on his chest. On one particular crease in the cotton of his shirt that was just there because his shoulder were pressed forward.

It looked soft. And inviting.

“I’m fine,”

And Joe would’ve let it go. Would’ve just said, okay good, and, don’t worry I’m not that sleepy. But then a sticky tear left your other eye that traveled over the bridge of your nose. It was impossible to miss, and Joe didn’t even give you time to try to wipe it away, to excuse it, to make something up on the spot of why it was even there, because he started scooching. Closer to the middle of the bed. And then an arm reached over and placed itself on your back and pulled you in, made you scooch until your face met that crease of fabric in the middle of Joe’s chest and a large palm around the back of your head kept it there.

“Sorry,” got whispered into your hair.

“It’s not you– you didn’t do anything wrong,”

“S’just a lot?”

“Mhmm,”

It was a lot. You'd had a bad day, and now Joe was cuddling you close, and the bed was warm and soft, and you had fingers in your hair, stroking down your scalp, playing with the strands.

“Sorry,” you spoke around an exhale and relaxed. “I will fall asleep if you keep doing that,”

You would. Felt yourself relax fully and sink deeper into everything soft.

“Good. Then I’ll keep going.”

That made your face scrunch up like you were in pain. Made your ribs want to flare and tighten up simultaneously. Made you blush harder than when Joe pulled you onto his face with your full weight.

Joe didn’t lie. Had to shift twice to make sure blood flow reached his fingers still, but kept his fingers in your hair. You used the first time he moved and switched arms to snuggle closer. To burrow deeper. Was easy to hide what you were doing - you were simply also readjusting a little. The second time, you tilted your head upwards enough for your nose to find the warmth of his skin just above the collar.

You fell asleep like that.

And, troublingly, you also woke up like that.

It was morning, and Joe was still there.

You moved, stretched yourself out of Joe’s hold which roused him awake. Rolling over, you found your phone to check the time.

“What time is it?” Joe croaked, burying his face back into the pillow.

“Just past 6,”

It was early still. Early enough for Joe to be able to sneak out without Izzy even being aware he’d ever been there.

You rolled onto your back after putting your phone back down and blinked at the ceiling for a moment. Found focus in your eyes and listened to Joe’s breathing.

God, your life was so weird. This week had been weird. And there were two days of favours left still.

Then what?

What would happen after?

You’d just go back to being the friends you were before?

You didn’t think you could do that, or even wanted to do that, but you couldn’t think like that. This was just a wild week, and on Monday, things would go back to normal.

Normalish.

You’d learn to slot back into that place where Joe made advances jokingly and you’d shake your head at the bad overdone moves he’d put on you.

No one would be the wiser.

“Izzy’s asleep,” you whispered, and you meant, time to leave. You turned your head to see Joe was also lying on his back with his eyes open. Except his weren’t studying the ceiling, his were on you.

“Do you think she will still be in half an hour?”

Um. Sure? She probably would be. It was the weekend, after all.

Without warning and before you could answer his question, Joe ducked entirely under the covers and moved across. Ate you out whilst you still had sleep in your eyes.

Saturday was a whole mess.

Joe’d snuck out, hadn’t been seen or heard by your flatmate and, good.

That was good.

But you couldn’t stop thinking about how that morning had been different. Halfway through he’d swapped his death grip around your legs for search of your hands. Joe was hidden under the covers and did everything a lot slower than he’d done any of the other times, and then found your hands with his and held your hands for a little while.

You managed to be quiet. Quieter, at least. But it was still fucking amazing, especially when Joe guided your hands to the back of his head and encouraged you to push his face into you. To add more pressure that way.

He’d come up and kissed you on the forehead after, and then he’d left you in the bed by yourself, all blissed out whilst he casually got dressed and walked out. Hadn’t even asked you to tell him that you’d won the bet.

Izzy witnessed you knock over a full cup of coffee, saw how it spilled over the counter and dripped down the kitchen cabinets as you swore and clumsily cleaned it up. You made yourself a new cup which you then let slip from your hands just when you were about to sit down on the sofa, and she’d gone, “Jesus, are you all right?”

You’d grumbled something under your breath and sighed at the coffee stain you’d left on the rug.

“What happened at work?”

Izzy referenced the text you’d sent her yesterday and linked your behaviour to it. You gave a vague explanation of why your managers sucked, and Izzy said to join her for lunch later. Good big lunch, maybe a few drinks. Would do you good. Have some fun.

“Or is Joe going to, I don’t know, make you organize his junk drawer or whatever?”

“Oh,” you thought a second. “Yea, maybe. But I could do that after lunch. Joe can wait.”

However, you didn’t end up going to lunch with Izzy.

Instead, you opted to do what you’d wanted to do the night before and sat in the bath for a few hours. Watched nostalgic films that made you cry salty tears into the bath water. Thought of how you wanted Joe to kiss you on the mouth and then tried to erase those thoughts by slipping fully under the water for as long as you could.

Izzy didn’t like how you isolated. Said you’d been weird all week.

You swiftly blamed it all on work, “It’s just hectic times and I need to not be around people for a little bit.”

Whilst covered in bubbles, you heard Izzy move about, doing laundry, vacuuming, cleaning shit up - all domestic chores she’d left for the weekend. And she was on the phone to someone. You swore you heard her mention your name, but you decided to assume it was nothing. Probably just a mention of you not going out for lunch with her, or a mention of you hogging the bathroom for hours. Whatever.

Saturday had felt messy, but Sunday was all right. You’d slept okay, didn’t feel so sluggish anymore and made Izzy breakfast because you were a good friend, and she was a good friend.

You pushed every thought of it being the last day of the week of favours to the back of your mind. Evaded the topic of your friends entirely in conversation with your flatmate for fear of mentioning Joe.

Sunday was all right.

It was all right until it wasn’t.

Joe texted.

“4, my place”

You didn’t like that tone.

“ok.”

You fullstopped him and kind of hoped Joe didn’t like your tone either. Sending a text like that helped you numb your feelings a little. Was good practice for later. A self-protection sort of thing.

When you were let into Joe’s flat, you expected it to go like it had gone before. You’d walk in, there’d be slow music playing, sheer curtains drawn, mood lightning on and Joe’d direct you towards the couch.

And there was a sort of calmer playlist going, but the place smelled of food, and Joe had greeted you all upbeat and chipper. Said, “I hope you’re hungry!” and you hated that you thought today maybe you’d get to return the favour before you thought of dinner.

You’d walked in on Joe in the middle of preparing a roast dinner. A roast dinner for two.

“What’s going on here?” you asked, shrugging off your coat and surprised by how much was happening in the kitchen. Pots, pans, the oven on, all these smells, plates and cutlery stacked and ready to be moved towards the table – there was a lot going.

You watched Joe pick up the lid of a pot and stir what was inside. He shrugged with his back turned.

“Wanted a good roast dinner and couldn’t make one just for myself,” Joe looked over his shoulder. “Thought for today’s favour you could have half the food and keep me company.”

You didn’t know if relief or disappointment took the overhand on this one. You forced it to be relief, smiled at Joe and said, “This smells fucking amazing,” but felt in your gut then that it was definitely disappointment.

Rationally, this was a clever move, because it kind of moved you back into the two of you just being friends. You had dinner together, talked about all sorts – how you wanted to kick the teeth in of that one bitch from administration, and then swiftly moved onto nicer things, like Joe’s next upcoming project. Not for a second was the bet mentioned. There were moments where you entirely forgot about it too. Joe was smart. Tomorrow was going to be easy now.

It’s just that... you didn’t want it to be easy.

You wanted to crash your entire face onto his, to collide with him. You didn’t, of course, you had dinner like two civilized people, two normal friends, who pretended they hadn’t just had the weirdest week of their lives together. Didn’t mean you didn’t sneak glances at Joe’s mouth, at those pink plush lips, all throughout the meal.

When the food was all gone and the dishes had been loaded into the washer, you declared you probably should get going. Told Joe Izzy had been worried.

“Don’t know if I’ll be able to come down next Friday,” Joe said, following you as you slung arms into your coat and made your way to his front door.

“Surprise, surprise,” you said all sarcastic, smiling. Made Joe huff a small laugh before his whole facial expression changed.

“Oh, and one other thing,”

You sorted the collar of your coat with both hands and turned back to find Joe much closer to you than you’d thought he’d be.

“You still haven’t said it,”

You stopped faffing with your coat, hands dropping down, and Joe stepped even closer.

“Oh my God,” you said softly, head tilting in defeat, amused but surprised Joe was still going on about this.

“Say you won the bet,”

You squeezed your eyes shut and frowned, were about to tell Joe that he was being ridiculous and why was it still even important now? You’d ticked off the last favour. It was over now! Was his ego that precious that he still needed to hear from you that he was right?

But Joe was quicker than your words were, and in the moment of your eyes being closed, Joe brought a hand to the back of your neck. Made you snap open your eyes instantly.

Joe was close.

Nose to nose now.

Made your whole body freeze.

“Why can’t you say it?” he whispered, practically into your mouth, and you didn’t know what to do.

“I don’t–” you couldn’t even finish the sentence you started, both because you weren’t sure of what to say, but also because your throat closed up the second Joe tilted his head and moved his mouth towards your jaw.

Placed a soft chaste kiss there.

Made you close your eyes and shudder on an exhale. Made you let Joe move your head to the side as his moved down, getting your neck next.

It wasn’t the desperate collision you’d wanted before, and it’s not on your mouth either, but you were standing in Joe’s hallway about to step out and Joe wanted you to say words he wanted to hear and was coaxing them from you by letting his lips softly brush against skin they had never brushed against before.

Made you weak in the knees.

“Hmh? Just say it, say you won,”

You had your eyes closed, but your lips were parted. The grip Joe had on the base of your skull firmed, and he moved you to the other side. Got your neck there. Jaw too.

You swallowed thickly when you felt Joe move back a little. Blinked open unfocussed eyes and fuck, you were going to need a minute.

“Say it,”

Joe tilted his head down, let your foreheads meet and this was more than it had been all week. More intimate. More romantic. More of what you’d actually wanted. Joe always got so close, but Joe never kissed you.

“Say it for me,”

“I won,”

The words slipped out of you without you even registering it properly. A brief moment followed in which time sort of stopped, just for a second. You heard no one breaths, heard no blood rushing in your ears, heard no exactor fan still going in the kitchen.

Joe grinned.

You fucking said it.

He let his other hand find your face to cup and moved in to do what he’d been wanting to do all along, but hadn’t felt was appropriate.

Joe moved in and kissed you on the mouth. Got your bottom lip between his and let it be all soft, all slow.

Too slow.

Far too slow.

Time caught up and so did your brain. Then, your body did too, and where before your arms had just been down by your sides, you let them find Joe’s shoulders. Then his neck, and you used it to pull Joe in closer. Made him collide with you.

You were kissing Joe on the mouth and, Jesus, you wanted more. Deeper. Harder. Wanted to lick past his lips and live inside all of that wet and warm. You felt how Joe was trying to suppress a smile – felt that with your mouth, my God – and felt how he was about to pull back.

“No, I won, I won I won,” you panted all desperate, using forceful hands on his head to keep him attached to your face. “I won the bet, I said it. I won.”

Just for a moment, Joe just... went with it. Let you jump up and curl your legs around his torso. Had laughter stuck in his throat but loved how you gripped, and clung, and built the kiss until it became a brutal devouring mess and... shit, he needed more.

Joe started moving, used his hands to get you back out of your coat that you easily let slip off of you, one arm at a time, mouths still hungry, practically eating each other.

Joe turned back into his flat.

Then towards the bedroom.

When you realised where Joe was trying to take you, you were quick to unlatch from him. Let your feet touch the floor again.

You were kissing Joe and he was guiding you towards the bedroom.

What was happening?

“Come on,” Joe said, got his mouth back onto yours and tried lifting you up again. “I still owe you good head.”

“What, but I... the favour was having dinner with you, I–” Joe cut you off with a kiss to your neck, the pressure of it almost violent. Made you moan instantly and go all slack. Slack enough for Joe to get you back into his arms again, both of his curled tightly around your waist.

“Didn’t you just say you won?”

And, oh.

Yes.

Yes you did.

There were no favours if that was the case. Just... just good head. Like you had gotten all week, because...you’d won the fucking bet.

Even if you had pretended all week that you hadn’t.

You’d won.

“Don’t worry,” Joe panted and used an elbow to open his bedroom door. “I won too.”

You couldn’t fucking believe it. Joe grinned at you and you grinned right back before crashing into him for a kiss once more.

There were only winners here.

Joe carried you into the bedroom and you couldn’t help but giggle into his mouth as he lurched you onto the bed before using a foot to kick the door shut.

You’d won, and Joe’d won, double or nothing had turned into everything, and there were only winners.

the end

---

The Taglisted: 

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(taglist currently full, sorry!)

#Joe Quinn #Joseph Quinn #Joe Quinn x You #Joseph Quinn x You #Joe Quinn x Reader #Joseph Quinn x Reader #Joe Quinn Fanfic #Joe Quinn fanfiction #Joseph Quinn Fanfic #Joseph Quinn Fanfiction #joe quinn x y/n #joseph quinn x y/n #rpf #18+ #double or nothing #part 5

[charmedreincarnation]

I’m kind of in a similar situation to your college indecisiveness post bc I want to shift but never have the time cuz all this studying. I’m really hating life rn. I’ve tried shifting a few times and managed to detach my awareness from this reality for a few minutes at a time, so i know what works for me, but I never have time to do it. I feel kind of drained that I could be achieving so much but I’m stuck not even having the time cuz I’m not smart enough to get done with all this HW fast enough

TLDR how do I be cool like you and too smart for school to be a big concern? Do I just say f**k it and do a shifting attempt when I’m supposed to be studying?

This was such a sweet ask 😭😭💖 I'm overwhelmed by the sweetness of your words, and I assure you, I'm far from being as cool as you think. In fact, I found myself facing the very same dilemma in the past! Now, I'm not sure if you're looking for some wisdom from Loa or valuable studying tips, so ill share a little bit of both? Also college-related questions/asks have been pouring in lately, so I've decided to address them all right here. I should probably just make it a post but I’ll use this ask as a reference.

Pre law perspective:

So my senior year, was when I really started my journey. It was during this time that I learned about shifting and manifesting (kind of law of attraction) so I naturally attempted everyday and had my focus to that. However, I basically spiraled into burnout and indifference towards school. Tbh It's still a mystery to me how I managed to do fine in school when I basically stopped attending classes mentally and barely did my work.

I've always had ADHD, anxiety, and procrastination issues throughout my high school years, But senior year took it to a whole new level. The boredom and disconnection from my studies were unbearable. I went through the motions, completing my homework, but for classes I didn't enjoy, I mindlessly attended without caring or understanding the material. It was a year filled with academic mediocrity, and certain subjects like AP Calculus and AP Biology, which I didn't even need for my future plans, were absolute torture.

And at the time I didn’t even fully understand what shifting was, But I clung to the notion that school no longer mattered in the grand scheme of things. Looking back, I realize it was a detrimental mentality to have for my well being. If there's one piece of advice I can offer, it's this - find a balance. Avoid burning yourself out completely, but don't neglect your mental well-being either. You are still here, whether you're shifting or not, whether you’re god or not, and whether you're actively manifesting or not. Diving deeper into a negative mental well will not benefit you in any way. Trust me, I learned this the hard way.

As my burnout intensified, I reached a point where I no longer wanted to be alive in this boring ass reality. It became so severe that I almost didn't apply to college. My entire focus was consumed by shifting, and I simply didn't care about anything else. It was my friends who came to my rescue, pushing me to apply and offering unwavering support. Without their guidance and nurturing, I honestly don't know where I would be today.

Eventually, I grew tired of being tired. I began diving into my subliminal journey, creating playlists that combined affirmations for school,success, and luck. I learned the importance of dividing my time wisely. During the second semester, I continued this approach, focusing on school-related practices during the day and dedicating my evenings to shifting attempts.

Affirmations and scripting became the root of my routine too. Miraculously, my grades improved, even when I skipped classes for an entire month or neglected to read the lectures.

I was able to graduate high school with honors, which in itself proves that success or whatever isn’t even just about being naturally "good at school." I worked smarter, not harder and knowing about manifesting really helped with that!

So I really advice you to find a balance in your journey. Don't pour all your energy into just school or just manifesting. Embrace the plethora of easy methods available - scripting, subliminals, binaural beats - and integrate them into your study routine. Make it work in your favor. Treat shifting like a cherished hobby, something that complements your academic pursuits rather than overshadowing them.

Also, set realistic standards for yourself. In high school, I used to obsess over achieving straight A's, disregarding any grade below perfection. Looking back, I realize how misplaced my priorities were. As long as you maintain a mix of A's, B's, and even a few C's, you'll be absolutely fine. Set a goal of achieving a GPA of 3.0 or whatever scale your institution uses, and celebrate every success along the way.

Loa perspective

Ok, now let's talk about the power of the Law of Assumption!

Now that I'm in a place where I give only about 20% of my time and effort to school and still do very well, I can help and reflect on my journey properly. Back in high school, like said I struggled with anxiety and ADHD, and I thought these challenges would hold me back.

Test-taking, deadlines, remembering information it all seemed overwhelming. But you know what helped me? Subliminals.

Listening to subliminals for intelligence and confidence made a significant difference in my life. They boosted my abilities and gave me the belief that I could excel academically. And that belief was everything.

As you probably know the Law of Assumption states that whatever we expect and assume to be true will become our reality. So, I decided to apply this principle to my studies. I assumed that I was capable of achieving great grades with ease. I assumed that school life would be manageable, and I would continuously improve my skills throughout the semester. I always visualized seeing As, revised my past grades, teacher giving me the grade I know I deserve no matter what.

And guess what? It worked! My mindset shifted towards greater productivity, and I started using my time more efficiently. As a result, my grades improved, and I had more time to focus on the things I genuinely enjoyed. It was a game-changer, and it accounted for about 70% of my success. Just imagine that - simply switching my mindset and accepting the positive results from my previous subliminal experiences.

I understand that college can be more stressful and demanding than high school. But it's still the same principle at play. You don't have to drastically change your study habits if you don't want to. Instead, use general resources during the day to aid your studying. And while you're at it, listen to subliminals that align with your goals. Instead of imagining and affirming to yourself that you're a failure and worrying about all the things that could go wrong, shift your focus. Imagine the grade you want, affirm and visualize that no matter what happens on your test, you'll still pass the class with flying colors. Remember, it's just one test, one assignment, and there are so many more opportunities ahead.

General school tips

* Stop checking your grades every day. Seriously, it's only stressing you out. Grades can fluctuate randomly, especially in college (and honestly, even in high school). Instead of obsessing over the numbers, focus on staying on top of your assignments. Keep up with your work, put in your best effort, and trust that alone will reflect in your grades.

* Say no to all-nighters. Trust me, reading the same material for 12 hours straight won't magically make you understand it. If something isn't clicking, it's probably an internal issue. There's no need to spend an entire night alone trying to grasp a single concept. Look for alternative resources like recap lessons on YouTube or seek help from a tutor or classmate. Remember, it's okay to acknowledge what doesn't come naturally to you and instead focus on your strengths.

* Realistically, doing your homework and attending class means you're probably not failing. Even if you're not getting the grade you want, it doesn't mean you're headed for failure. Those big tests that carry a significant weight in your grade may impact your GPA, but they don't define the trajectory of your life. Take a moment to reflect on all the times you thought a single grade would ruin everything, yet here you are, still alive and thriving. You've been through challenges before, and you're stronger than you think. Breathe, remind yourself that you're not alone in these thoughts and stresses, and keep pushing forward.

* Make friends and join class group chats. Trust me, these connections are gold. Joining group chats on platforms like GroupMe or Snapchat allows you to ask questions, collaborate on study guides, and realize that you're not alone in this journey. Even if they're not your closest friends, having a support system within your classes can make all the difference.

* Use EFT tapping for anxiety, especially before tests. Emotional Freedom Technique (EFT) tapping is not only useful for Law purposes, but it can also work wonders for managing anxiety. Check out my pinned guide on how to use EFT tapping. It has personally helped me immensely, and I hope it does the same for you.

* Work smarter, not harder. The truth is, those who seem to breeze through school while partying every night still manage to graduate and pass just like everyone else. The key is finding shortcuts, utilizing the vast resources available on the internet, and working smarter, not harder. Embrace technology, explore online study tools, and leverage the power of the internet as your greatest friend in this journey.

Here are some free recourses:

Math and Science

1. MathMagic Lite: This app lets you write any mathematical expressions and various scientific symbols easily

2. Equatio: A powerful equation editor that makes it easy to create digital, accessible maths

3. Microsoft Mathematics: Can be used to write mathematical expressions, solve equations, and plot graphs

4. Desmos Scientific Calculator & Graphing Calculator: Utility apps for students and teachers for calculations and graph plotting

5. WolframAlpha: A computational search engine that can solve a wide variety of problems, especially useful for math and science

Article/Video Summarization

6. Smmry: A website that summarizes articles for you

7. TLDR This: A browser extension for quick article summarization

8. Inshorts: An app providing news in 60 words or less

9. Listenable: Converts articles into short audio files

Note-Taking

10. Evernote: A note-taking app where you can jot down thoughts, save things you find online, and even scan physical documents with your phone's camera

11. Microsoft OneNote: Allows for free-form information gathering and multi-user collaboration

12. Notion: An all-in-one workspace where you can write, plan, collaborate, and get organized

Concept Explanation

13. Khan Academy: Offers practice exercises, instructional videos, and a personalized learning dashboard that empower learners to study at their own pace in and outside of the classroom

14. Coursera: Provides universal access to the world’s best education, partnering with top universities and organizations to offer courses online

15. Complexly: A YouTube channel that produces a variety of educational content, including the series Crash Course which covers many different subjects in depth

16. citation machine: you never have to make source citations by yourself. This gives your both in test and citations for your essays and research.

Lastly I’m gonna put all the free resources most colleges offer for free!

Academic Resources

* Online Study Platforms: Websites such as Khan Academy, Coursera, and edX offer free or low-cost courses on a variety of subjects that can supplement your coursework.

* Academic Advising Centers: Most colleges have an academic advising center where students can get guidance on course selection, degree requirements, and academic planning.

* Writing Centers: Writing centers provide assistance with writing assignments, including proofreading, editing, and helping with citations.

* Library Research Databases: Your college library likely subscribes to a number of research databases (like JSTOR, EBSCO, and ProQuest) that can provide access to academic journals, books, and other resources.

2. Career Resources

* Career Centers: These centers offer career counseling, resume reviews, interview preparation, and job search assistance.

* Internship and Co-op Programs: Many colleges have programs that help students find internships or co-op positions in their field of interest.

* LinkedIn Learning: This platform offers courses on a variety of career-related topics, including networking, resume writing, and job interviewing.

3. Mental Health and Wellness Resources

* Counseling Centers: Most colleges offer free or low-cost mental health services to students, including individual therapy, group sessions, and workshops.

* Fitness Centers: Regular exercise is important for both physical and mental health. Most colleges have fitness centers that offer a variety of workout options.

* Mindfulness and Meditation Apps: Apps like Headspace and Calm offer guided meditations that can help reduce stress and improve mental health.

4. Financial Aid Resources

* Financial Aid Office: Your college's financial aid office can provide information on scholarships, grants, work-study opportunities, and student loans.

* FAFSA: The Free Application for Federal Student Aid (FAFSA) is the key to accessing federal financial aid, including grants, work-https://www.tumblr.com/charmedreincarnation/712878654521262080/everything-eft-tapping?source=share funds, and loans.

* Scholarship Search Engines: Websites like Fastweb and Scholarships.com can help you find scholarships that you may be eligible for.

Other questions I got

Q: How did you manifest graduating early?

A: Graduating early was always a desire deep within me. I didn't realize it was on track to manifest until I had a meeting with my advisor. Interestingly, when I found out it was happening, I wasn't as ecstatic as I thought I would be. It made me realize that desires can change as we grow and evolve. So, if something you once desired doesn't bring you the same joy anymore, it's perfectly okay. Life is all about evolving and embracing new desires.

Q: What affirmations do you use?

A: Since I had a multitude of desires in various aspects of my life, I found it tiring to have a separate affirmation for each one. So, I opted for general affirmations that encompassed all areas of my life. For example, I would affirm statements like "I am the luckiest person alive," "Everything works out my way," and "I always get my desires." These affirmations can be applied to all aspects of life, including school. The key is to find affirmations that resonate with you and create a positive mindset.

Q: How do you manage the law/shifting and school?

A: As I mentioned earlier, integration is the key! You don't have to view manifestation or shifting as something separate from your school life. Instead, incorporate these practices seamlessly into your daily routine. The goal is to make it a part of your lifestyle without feeling like it's an extra burden or sacrifice. For example, if a certain method, like wbtb lucid dreaming, is disrupting your sleep schedule, consider switching to other methods like subliminals or reality checks. You can still set intentions before going to bed, which will be effective without compromising your sleep. Find what works best for you and strike a balance between school, manifestation, and your mental health

Q: What to do if affirmations don’t work:

A:maybe you don’t think with words. I’m more of a visual person and will always believe and like images more than words. I would just imagine my grades always being an A. No matter what, no matter if I failed a test or forgot to submit a homework even if I failed everything I still got an A! If you don’t like to visualize then change your wording to how you naturally speak. Maybe you don’t even like affirmations, it’s really different for everyone.

Q:I don’t want to go to this college but I still have to apply, is that affecting living in the end:

A: nope I don’t think taking action or not taking action affects anything If you’re living in the end. Just because you apply doesn’t mean you’ll get in simply because you took the action. Do what you have to do it doesn’t matter if you’re living your 3D life but know imagination is your true reality. If you’re a billionaire and sleep in a homeless shelter that doesn’t take away from the fact you’re a billionaire. Who knows why you’re at a homeless shelter and who knows why you’re applying for college. It doesn’t dictate anything.

Q:I needed to get into the void before college but now I’m here without my dream life and I hate it. What do I do:

A: well it’s happened so take a deep breath. You can still master the void, in fact you already have you’re just being silly and want a funny humbling story. There is no better time than now to be delulu. When you’re trying to escape something and it passes accept it and make it your bitch tbh. honestly keeping busy definitely helped me in my journey anyways, but I did provide tips above so you have free time because you shouldn’t just be immersed in school. For example when I was poor, it was because I needed a humbling back story because no one likes people born into wealth. I’m assuming you still want to be in college, and yea, it’s just cool to have started from the bottom before you become that It girl. That’s your choice and your truth but now you’re done with being humble so go tap into the void.

Q: what’s your perspective on manifesting a perfect life. like nothing bad ever happens but also having a good life with just minor challenges (nothing too big) and I don’t wanna normalize suffering bc who wants to suffer?

A: ok this had a school ask but that was just the gist of it. anyways not that my opinion matters first and foremost. But I think that’s great. Who wants to suffer… exactly. You know I like being human, but I did not like my human experience before Loa. I do like challenges, I like growth, I like not being perfect, and I like being happy and getting what I want too! you can still have all those human aspects and manifest everything you desire. Mary Sues do don’t exist because humanity exists. Don’t worry about it. Your life won’t feel stagnant or unreal or something, I promise

Ok sorry this came out longer than I expected but I had a lot to say. I hope that answers all the asks I’ve been getting ! You all got this, college, your manifesting journey, your anxiety, all of it. All of your dreams & desires are within your reach (right in front of you !!!) so go for it and still live your best life <3!

#law of assumption #manifesation #manifesting #my asks #void state #shiftblr #reality shifting #school #hot girl scholar 👩‍🏫 #college

[auorafics]

Gym Buddies (M)

Warnings: Contains mature content. Readers' discretion advised.

Pairings: Changbin x y/n, thick dick!Changbin, gym buddies to lovers, unprotected sex, piv sex, gym sex, dirty talk

Word Count: 1.2K

“That's it y/n. Just one more rep”, said Changbin as he helped you off the bench. He recently started teaching you how to bench weights. You were always into working out. And it was at this very gym that you met him. You were at the gym around midnight that night, an unlikely hour for working out, but that's what you liked. No one to disturb you. Peace and calm after a long day as you work on yourself, that's what you craved. You were listening to your usual gym playlist when he approached you for the first time. You had seen him around, in the gym and in your apartment building. He introduced himself to you and you started off as gym buddies, helping each other with exercise routines. Then you started hanging out as friends. 

But everytime you were at the gym, you couldn’t take your eyes off of him. He was sculpted. His muscles bulging, sweat dripping, his bulking frame lifting weights. That was all you could think of. You could say you had a crush on him, that was growing every time you were together. It became stronger as he started training you in benching weights. His hot breath fanning your neck as he helped you position your arms properly, His fingers brushing over you, holding your fists around the weight. His sides caressing your legs as he moved from one side to another. All of these were blurring your mind. All you could think about was him. 

“Okay, rest up now. Let’s do your last rep after a break”, he said, picking up a foam roller. You knew where this was going. He had already done his hamstrings. Now he was about to do his quads. Oh how hot he looks when he does quads. You envision yourself under him every time. You look at him as he moves his hips on the roller, thrusting into the air. If you weren’t hot from the exercise before, you definitely are now. You feel your slick pooling up in your panties. You keep ogling at him with your mouth wide open. He is facing away from you so you thought he didn’t catch you. But you aren’t aware that he is watching all of this from the reflection of the mirror in front of you two.

You snap your head in another direction as he gets up. He puts away the foam roller and walks towards you. “On the bench, right now!”, he commands. You comply, unsuspectingly of his intentions. You position your arms to hold the weights he was supposed to give you, but he holds both of your wrists with one of his and pins them above your head. “ You think I didn't see you staring at me huh? You looked so desperate you know baby?”, he asked, looking right into your eyes. “Uhh..Binnie, I..I w..was”, you stutter. “Shhh baby!. Don’t even try to deny it. I caught you looking at me many times. Do you think I'm hot? You like it when I lift weights and flex my muscles?”. You just nod, not trusting your words. “Words baby, I need words. I need you to tell me what I do to you…and what you want me to do to you right now”, he whispered, ending with a graze on your earlobe. “Fuck!  You are so hot Binnie. I love how your muscles look when you lift weights and do push-ups. I especially love it when you do your quads. I always imagine myself under you. You make me so wet. I want you to use me. I want you to fuck me. Right here on this bench”, you reply all in one breath. He let out a deep chuckle. And the next instant, his lips are on yours, capturing you into a heated kiss. 

You could taste his sweat on your tongue, but you are way too past into pleasure to think about it. His lips were soft and kissable. You both chewed on each other’s lips. You felt his tongue prodding at your mouth, eager to enter. You let him in. His tongue immediately started exploring your mouth. You pulled him onto you by his hair, deepening the kiss, if that was even possible. You broke this kiss to take a breath. He immediately went to attack your neck with kisses. Then he rose up and removed his tank. Your eyes blew wide open at the sight. You had seen his bare back before but this view was on another whole level. His pecs looked sturdy and smooth. His abs were starting to form on his abdomen. His biceps were shining from the gym lighting. His whole body glistened with a thin sheet of sweat. He looked heaven sent. “Changbin…”, you trailed off. “Yes baby?”.”You look so good. Wow….just wow!”. That’s all you could manage to say, before he kissed you again.

He slowly ran his arms under your tank top, pushing it up in the process. You lifted up, letting him take it off you. Then he moved to remove your shorts too. You pulled his shorts and boxers down, freeing his hard cock. It was of an average height, but the girth! “Oh my god! Binnie do you think it will fit?”, you asked him. He chuckled in return.”Guess we’ll have to see”, he said, pushing your panties to the side. He used his middle finger to draw up a line from your slit up to your clit, and back. “Oh baby, you are so wet. I think you will take me easily”, he said, playing with your clit with his thumb. He held his shaft with the other hand and rubbed its angry cock head against your dripping pussy. 

He slowly started to push in, inch by inch. His cock was hard to let in. It was very girthy and huge. But you somehow managed to fully sheath him. He looked deep into your eyes, full of love. “Are you ok baby? Can you handle it?”, he asked, concerned. You nodded a yes and started moving against his hip. He took that as an ok and started moving at a slow, controlled pace. But that self-control flew out the window as soon as you started moaning his name while your pussy clenched around his member. But that wasn’t enough for you. You wanted more. You wanted him to be rougher with you. “Binnie, faster pleaseeee!!”, you half moaned, half whined. He increased his pace and started to pound into you. “Moan my name baby. Say it! Let everyone know who’s making you feel this good”, he groaned in between thrusts.

Changbin repositions you, pulling you onto his thighs, hooking your knees on his shoulders. He soon finds your sweet spot in this position. Now all his thrusts were angled to hit it. You could feel yourself inching towards your orgasm. “Bin..Bin..Binnie.., I'm close”, you whine. “Come for me baby. Whenever you want”. He pounds into you even faster. In a few thrusts, you are cumming hard on and around his cock. He pulls out after you ride out your high, and empties his load on your stomach.

He slowly pulls back and lets you rest on the bench while he goes around to find a rag to clean you up. You confess to Changbin about your crush on him. “I like you too y/n. I would like to take you out on a date and take our friendship a step further, you know”, he confesses.

P.S: You both end up going on a date on the weekend.

P.S 2: This is an early post guys. From now on, I'll be posting on every Saturday at 12 AM IST (UTC +5:30)

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