#and a full two weeks your hours per day course

[luvjunie]

— sleepover

pairing: e-1610!miles x fem!reader

contains: fluffff! jeff and rio being realistic parents, miles being stubborn per usual

summary: miles’ parents finally agreed to letting the two of you have a sleepover, on one condition. however, miles was never the best at following directions. wc: 1,630

New york. The city that never sleeps.

The faint murmuring of bustling cars and the habitual honking of horns seeped through the tight seal of the shut apartment window; ironic in the way it somehow lulled you. An imperfect melody you welcomed—also the same one deemed a nuisance by those foreign to the chaos that naturally assimilated to comfort the longer you remained in Brooklyn. It usually helped you slip into a slumber with ease—but now— was succeeding in its attempt of doing the exact opposite.

And when you heard Miles expel a weighted, disgruntled sigh; you were led to believe the two of you had more in common with each other apart from the fact that you both lived here.

After weeks and weeks of begging, and endless explanations as to why exactly he needed his girlfriend to sleep over when they wouldn’t even get to utilize the time spent together because they were supposed to be asleep, Miles had finally convinced his mom and dad to let the two of you have a sleepover.

Fun, right?

Yeah, well you thought it’d be. Until his mom insisted the two of you bring your pillows and blankets and fantasies of your life as a matured couple to the living room and sleep out there. Six feet away from each other. You guys were practically social distancing like it was 2019 all over again.

The curt reasoning she offered included something about her not wanting the two of you in his room alone at night; not that she thought her son would actually be dumb enough to do anything along those lines with her in the house. You loved Mama Rio, but even if you didn’t, it wouldn’t matter. This was her house, and that meant you had to follow her rules. The fact that you were even able to come over as much as you did was a blessing in itself, so you took everything else in stride.

Miles let you take the couch of course, and he was currently sprawled out on his back on the floor, a pillow tucked beneath his head as he studied the minuscule cracks in the ceiling as if they truly interested him. Scrolling through his instagram timeline had gotten old fairly quickly, and at 1:00AM in the morning, neither of you were really motivated enough for conversation.

You were more than grateful to spend a night with your boyfriend, but this wasn’t necessarily how you expected it to go. Whenever you guys would hang out during normal hours of the day, you’d always end up in his embrace, curled and cuddled into each other comfortably. Whatever movie or tv-show you’d put on in the background begging for the same attention you’d give each other. After growing used to such a routine, that was really the only way you could fall asleep at his house.

But alas, holding your pillow close to you instead of him would have to suffice, you decided, as you let your eyes close once again.

“Baby?” Miles called out into the darkness, lip chewed in anticipation.

Silence.

He’d said only a word but you knew better than to engage. A conversation would end up with the two of you in trouble in the morning, so you pretended to be asleep.

“I know you’re awake. I counted exactly three seconds between your last two breaths and when you’re asleep it slows down to five.”

You stifled a laugh, ultimately blowing your cover. “Okay, now that’s just creepy.”

“People who are asleep don’t laugh!” he quipped.

A smile snuck onto your lips and you hadn’t the heart to reprimand it, lids peeling back open to stare up at the same ceiling he was.

“Yes, Miles?”

“Can you not fall asleep either, or have I become an insomniac all of a sudden?” The question came with a sigh, long arms spread to their full wingspan as he tried to count how many full rotations the ceiling fan made in a minute. That was how bored he was.

You sighed disappointedly, toying with the frayed tassels on your blanket. A moue on your face. “No, I can’t fall asleep either.”

“I think I know why.” he sung the last word in suggestion, hands absentmindedly drumming against his abdomen.

“Miles,” you warned, letting your head fall to the side so you could stare at the top of his head and address him directly. “Your mom gave very specific instructions, and personally, I would like to return home to mine with my head still on my shoulders.” grumbling your response, you shoved down the urge to invite him up there with you like your mind was telling you to.

He propped himself up on an elbow at that, eyes immediately making contact with yours. Your first mistake was not looking away, because those pretty pools of hazel were already starting to convince you and he hadn’t even opened his mouth yet.

“But how is that fair?” he complained, sounding exasperated. “We take naps together all the time when you’re here, I just wanna cuddle with you.” he sulked, as if you were the one who’d come up with the rule. Never in a million years would you submit the both of you to this kind of torture. You loved falling asleep in his arms.

You rolled your eyes at him, “Well, yeah. But that’s during the day, when she can check on us anytime she wants to. I don’t think your mom wants us that close to each other at night for,” The last part of your sentence faded to a jumbled murmur as your gaze traveled back to the ceiling. “…obvious reasons.”

He impishly raised a brow as if he didn’t know what you were referring to, chin resting in the palm of his hand. With only the faded lights of the city to illuminate the living room, the cheeky smile on his face went unnoticed, though you could hear it in the tone of his voice, loud and clear.

“And what reasons are those?” Miles asked, feigning innocence. His long lashes blinking at you.

Hand smacking to your forehead, you recited a silent prayer, a plea for strength. It was beginning to look like you weren’t going to get yourself out of this. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

His hand gestured to the air, plainly. “Well obviously. But still, we’re not dumb. That’s why I always take you to the roof when we—“

“Miles Gonzalo Morales do not finish that sentence!”

He snorted at the squeak of your voice and you used your pillow to hide your heated face.

“This is not going to help us fall asleep.” your irritated statement was muffled from the fabric of the pillowcase.

He hummed. “Exactly, meaning there’s only one thing left to try.” Slow to catch on, you didn’t realize what he meant until you felt the couch dip from the weight of his knee.

A hand trickled up the exposed skin of your thigh and it stopped when it met your sleep-shorts clad hip, the pillow snatched from your face and tossed onto the floor where he previously resided just a second ago.

“What are you—?”

He hovered over you, one hand pressed into the cushion beside your waist to hold himself up. Your question fell short when he swiftly parted your legs with his other hand and comfortably slotted his body between your thighs. A relieved sigh escaped him, his cheek nuzzling into the soft of your chest when he laid on top of you. His favorite way to cuddle.

“Shhh, trying to sleep.” murmuring a dismissive answer to your query, he let his eyes flutter to a close and snaked his arms around your waist, forearms cradling the curve of your back.

Contrary to the fight you were putting up just a minute ago— your arm curled over the expanse of his shoulders, fingers idly twirling at the baby curls that dusted the nape of his neck, something you always did to help him fall asleep faster. He let out a low, satisfied sound and relaxed into you completely, his hold on you tightening. While a part of you wanted to protest, an even bigger part wanted to remain under him like this. His weight was comforting; made you feel secure in the way a weighted blanket did.

“Your mom is not going to be happy with us.” you reminded him, stretching your other arm down enough to grab your blanket and pull it up over the two of you.

“It’s worth it. I’ll happily take the blame,” he drawled sleepily, snuggling in closer to the kiss that grazed his forehead. “I love you…” The laggard pace to his words let you know he was already dozing off, and you smiled, fatigue finally catching up with you too.

“I love you, Miles.”

— extra scene

Jeff stood in silence, arms folded over his broad chest and lips puckered awkwardly. Rio occupied the space next to him, hands perched on her wide hips, fingers tapping against them and her jaw clenched in disapproval. Her expression was everything but amused at the scene in front of them. He stole a tactful glance at his wife every two seconds, silently trying to gauge how irritated she was without having to ask her.

Sometime during the night you and Miles had switched places, and now his lanky legs were draped over the arm of the small couch and you were on top of him, clung to his body like a wet T-shirt, face barely visible seeing as it was nestled into the crook of his neck. With his mouth hanging slack as he loftily snored, Rio felt her eye almost twitch while she stared down at her stubborn son, who seemed to have magically teleported from his assigned spot on the floor and into yours instead.

“Well, I coulda told’ya that would happen.” Jeff said quietly with a laid-back shrug, to which Rio responded with a back-handed swat to his chest.

“Ow!”

Through her aggravation she still kept her voice low as to not wake the two of you, eyes narrowed at her husband. “I am going to strangle this boy, Jeff. Dios ayudame. ¡Tu hijo nunca escucha! (God help me, your son never listens!)” she griped, gesturing towards Miles’ arm that was loosely circled around your waist. She tramped down the hall, hands tossed up in defeat while she grumbled something incoherent under her breath.

Lips downturned into an offended frown, Jeff coddled his chest with his palm and followed after her, voice kicked up an octave like a nagging child. “Why is he only my son when he does something you don’t like? We made him together!”

- please do not plagiarize, copy, or repost my works to other platforms!

likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated 💗

#junie’s works ᥫ᭡ #across the spiderverse #1610 miles morales #miles morales #earth 1610 miles morales x reader #miles morales fanfiction #miles morales fluff #miles morales x black!reader #miles morales x fem!reader #miles morales x you #across the spiderverse fanfiction

[hannieehaee]

18+ / mdi

content: fratboy!mingyu, same couple as this fic (can be read as a standalone tho), established relationship, mingyu is whipped as per usual, wonwoo's mentioned to be reader's brother, afab reader, smut, soft sex, riding, penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 1459

a/n: was so happy to hear ppl liked this couple :D here's a link to the main fic! i'll periodically write more lil drabbles for them so if u have any ideas my asks are open <3

masterlist

"g-gyu! i have to go. i cant keep being late!", you whined at him as he nuzzled his head into your neck, kissing and nibbling at the sensitive skin there.

it was yet another night you'd spent over at mingyu's frat. you were currently in bed with the man, pinned down by his strong arms.

despite having shared rooms with wonwoo before, mingyu had made a case to allow for him and wonwoo to have separate rooms, arguing that they'd been members of the frat for over a year by now and deserved some privileges due to seniority. fortunately for mingyu, his insistence was not met with much pushback, leading to wonwoo moving his things out and into one of the empty rooms in the frat about a week later. what the rest of frat members hadn't known however, was that mingyu's insistence was born purely out of his need to sneak you into his room night after night without having your brother get in the way.

he continued kissing at your neck without a single care in the world, still holding you against him, "baby, it's fine. i used to skip my freshman year all the time. they won't miss you."

"gyu! i wanna keep my gpa, ive been late three times this week. i'll be back in an hour, just be patient," you managed to unwrap yourself from him and wobble your way up, legs still weak from last night.

he dramatically groaned, allowing his back to flop onto the bed, "why do you hate me?"

jesus, he was so dramatic.

you sighed to yourself and approached him again, pulling at his hands to get him to sit up again. he let his body be limp, causing him to end up leaning against you once you'd pulled him all the way up. he took advantage of the angle and wrapped his arms against you once more, not pulling you against him this time but still keeping a light hold on you.

"stop being dramatic! we had sex last night! we'll have sex again today! just wait for me to get back, okay, baby?"

he chuckled at this, leaning up once more to try and kiss at you, "is it bad that i want you, baby?", he was teasing you, you could tell, "i've only had you to myself for a month. can you blame me for wanting you every day? i waited for years to have you, remember?", with this, he began to pull you towards him, easily getting you to straddle his legs on the bed.

"of ... of course not," you sighed out as his kisses became more and more sensual, now running his hands up and down your bare back.

you were too weak for him. you'd only managed to get off the bed for a few seconds, not even getting a single article of clothing on before he got you right back on his bed.

"so you'll let me take care of you, right baby?", he breathed against your ear, placing a playful bite on it as his hands lowered and lowered until landing on your ass, groping and toying with it. he instigated you, encouraging you to begin grinding against him at a slow and sensual tempo. everything felt slower in the early hours of the morning.

this was a common occurrence for you two ever since you'd first confessed your feelings for one another a little over a month ago. he'd expressed to you how badly he'd wanted you for years, knowing you'd only recently began to like him and wanting to give you time to process your feelings before confessing. but once you'd confessed, it led to endless time together. you were even more attached to the hip than you'd been as best friends, if that was even possible. with full support from both wonwoo and all your friends, you and mingyu had become inseparable, leading you to spend most of your nights being snuck into mingyu's frat.

you'd grown thirsty for each other, having had to hold back on your desires for each other for too long before growing to desperate and resulting in the night mingyu finally had you in his room a month ago. ever since then, mingyu had insisted on keeping you to himself day after day, just like last night, when he'd insisted you stay over (again) after having fucked you into the mattress late into the night.

the issue was, mingyu was a bit insatiable. even after that first night, even after being caught by wonwoo immediately after, he had insisted on fucking you again in the morning. just like now, as he managed to get you on your back again, legs spread as he laid his weight on top of you and ground his bare length against your folds.

you whined at him, wanting more than just friction. if he was gonna keep you from going to class, the least he could do was actually fuck you. you somehow managed to flip the gigantic man over (ok, he mightve let you do it ..), positioning yourself on top of him before lowering yourself on him.

"fuck! yeah, baby, that's it. such a good girl ..." he groaned upon feeling your walls close up around him. "gonna imprint my dick in you, baby. keep you all to myself," one thing about mingyu was his constant need to whisper filthy things in your ear as he made your eyes roll back.

he quickly took control of your hips, holding them down whenever he wanted to cant his hips upwards against yours, or sometimes simply guiding your hips to allow you to grind your clit against him at a speed that made your toes curl.

"g-gyu! shit! just like that!"

"right there, pretty? shit, is that the spot?", he took your whines as confirmation, beginning to ram his hips into yours even faster, lowering his hand between both of you in order to toy with your clit.

you threw your head back, feeling lightheaded at the way in he covered all bases of your pleasure, not only hitting your g spot consistently but also rubbing your clit at a tempo that had all air leaving your head. he was even at some points alternating between sucking your tongue into his mouth and lowering his head to lick and bite your boobs. in the very short period of time you'd been dating, mingyu had figured out everything you liked. every weak spot, he had dominated, knowing what brought you pleasure even better than yourself.

"'m gonna cum, fuck! don't stop!", you knew he didn't need any warning with how familiar he was with your body, but you just couldn't help but be vocal when around him.

"i know, pretty. cum for me, yeah? want you gushing all around me- shit! then ... then im gonna fill you up like a cute lil creampie. okay, baby?" he said this as he felt you tighten around him, a clear tell that you were seconds away from reaching ultimate bliss.

your orgasm triggered his, making him bury his head in your chest as you rode your high still tightly wrapped around him. even when you tried to unglue yourself from him, he kept you shoved against him for a few more seconds, lightly grinding against you for some extra stimulation despite how sensitive you both were after yet another intense orgasm shared between the two of you.

"shit .. it was worth it, wasn't it?", was his immediate response to you finally catching your breath.

"you're gonna make me flunk out of college," you deadpanned, not serious at all.

"good. that way i can keep you he-"

"can you guys shut the fuck up? i'm still sharing a wall with you, jesus christ," the sound of banging against the wall had interrupted you, wonwoo's voice cutting through.

the both of you remained silent for a minute, staring at each other with wide eyes.

"dude! you didn't tell me wonwoo was staying right next door!", you whisper-shouted, embarrassed your brother might've heard you.

"i didnt know he could hear us!", he whispered back. he got up and stuck his ear to the wall before speaking up again, at full volume this time, "how much did you hear?"

wonwoo waited a beat or two before you could hear his response through the wall.

"i put on my headphones every time i see you sneak her in. just go to her dorm, for fuck's sakes."

well, so much for not getting caught sneaking into the dorm past the allowed visitation hours.

mingyu hummed at this, turning to speak to you now.

"he kinda has a point, baby. how come i haven't fucked you in your dorm?"

#seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #svt fanfic #seventeen #svt #svt x reader #seventeen smut #svt smut #seventeen imagine #seventeen oneshot #seventeen scenarios #mingyu smut #svt scenarios #mingyu fic #mingyu imagine #mingyu fanfic #mingyu x reader #mingyu oneshot

[ultimate-chickennougat]

| Your Salaryman Husband | (Vol 1)

Vol 2 Vol 3 Vol 4 Vol 5 Vol 6 Vol 7 Vol 8

Salaryman!Kento x Housewife!Reader;

Nanami puts on an apron to help his cute little housewife prepare dinner.

Word Count: 1k

CW: SFW, domestic fluff, fem!reader, newly married Nanami and Y/n,

A/n: First time writing for Kento... thanks for reading!

Your dear husband Kento Nanami was not one to come home late. Ever. 

Even though it had only been about two months since your marriage, the daily routine had already been set, and you couldn't imagine that happening in a decade, let alone on the next day. 

Of course that wouldn't be true in his past profession, as a Jujutsu Sorcerer, but he was back being a salaryman, never going to extra meetings or taking on any more jobs than his work contract required him to. Hence he rushed home, avoiding that dreaded overtime that the younger company members fought for. Even then it took a lot out of him.

Mr. Kento Nanami was a diligent worker from 9 o'clock in the morning to 5 o'clock in the afternoon. A senior manager at an investment company, his pure skill and dedication was the only way he could get that position. He never tried to do anything more than what he had to, which was providing customers with the best investment services he could. And you, the new Mrs. Nanami was his lovely housewife, always there to greet him when he got home. It was always the most comforting thought he had, while listening to the executives drone on about profits, and training the newcomers eager to reap those rewards as well. But then again, that is why he was in that business too, right? 

As per usual, he quickly packed up his things and headed to the elevator right after the hour hand hit 5 on his watch. Ideally he would be home in the next thirty minutes, far more eager than his other coworkers. A promotion was not awaiting him since his marriage, but that wasn’t a concern. He had enough saved up for an early retirement anyway, and, more importantly, one would take away from his precious time with you.

While his heart beat was steady, walking to the train station as he did everyday, yours was much more rampant.

Rushing around the kitchen, you hurriedly washed and cut vegetables, meat, and ground spices as fast as you could. Dinner was expected to be served at about 6:00 pm that night, and afterward would be a relaxing evening with your husband, who would be done for the week. While the daily routine was solidified, the speed of your cooking was not. Especially when your carefully laid out schedule of repotting the plants, cleaning the bathrooms, and doing laundry took a bit too long for each one. It was already 5:15, and you had just popped the tarts into the oven. 

Today's dinner consisted of a thick stew, crusty white bread, and miniature fruit tarts for dessert. With some preparations the day before, it was a plan that should have taken about two hours, most of which would be idle cooking time. That of course, did not happen. 

Your usual greeting of your husband at the door was foiled for the first time. He opened the door promptly at 5:33 PM, about the same time as every day, yet for once you weren't there.

Setting his briefcase down and removing his jacket, he walked through the living room into the kitchen, hearing your not-so-subtle whines of frustration, the scent of sweet fruit and grilled meat filling the air.

Married life is full of firsts, many of which were known to you and Nanami alike. Your first kiss being married, your first date being married, among other things. But what he didn't expect to focus on were the little ones he saw everyday. The first time you screwed up your daily routine, of course, and the first time he got to see you cooking his dinner in your cute little apron.

You quickly turned around hearing Nanami enter the kitchen. "Kento..!" you muttered, knife in hand chopping vegetables with great fervor. He chuckled softly, your knuckles had turned white from the grip, and carrots rolled off the cutting board.

He strolled over to the cabinet, pulling out a simple white apron, not before giving you a quick kiss on the cheek from behind you. "I see you've been quite busy today, my love," he put the apron over his head and tied it in the back, before turning towards your work.

His knees dug into your thighs, as he reached around your body and grabbed the knife from your hand. "How about I finish this for you?" he asked, already starting to chop away. "Aren't you tired from work? You can go sit down, darling," you tried to move away from him, though he gripped your stomach lightly with his other arm, pausing his work. "It's not tiring at all, standing here with you, my cute wife."

He put his head on top of yours, enjoying your warmth and the scent of food cooking, what you've been toiling away with for the past few hours. “I might not be as good of a cook as you, my love, but I think my knife skills are decent enough.” He continued, making quick work of the pile of vegetables. "Darling, the tarts are burning," you gently pushed him away, rushing over to the oven and pulling them out.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there to greet you. I'll make sure to be there tomorrow." you spoke softly, lifting the tarts onto the cooling rack. "I was wondering where my wife's face was. I see you've had quite the predicament in here," Nanami scraped all the vegetables in the pot, and covered it with water as instructed. It would still be about half an hour until done, being finished only 15 minutes late thanks to his help. 

Nanami stared deeply as you joined him in the living room. Your fingers carefully undid the tie of your apron, as you started to take it off. "Have I ever told you how good you look in that?" He mentioned, standing up off the couch. You yelped, as he helped to pull it off your head. "...Thank you, darling. You look very dashing in one as well." You muttered, a subtle blush coating your cheeks. 

"I look forward to seeing you wear it tomorrow, my love." He chuckled as he sat down at the dining table, ready for the dinner you prepared together.

#nanami kento #jjk nanami #nanami x reader #kento nanami #kento x reader #kento nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami kento x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #kento #jujustu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #nanami #jjk x reader

[darlingofvalyria]

❝You don't think I can please you?❞

part 05 | we're really in it now, darling

chapter summary:

[ Everything comes ahead at a hedge maze because. . . hedge maze. ]

[ +18 MDNI ] [ 4,517 ] [ series masterlist ] | best friend's brother!aemond targaryen x f!reader, ft. cregan stark x f!reader, aemond x alys rivers

contains— angst, a lil smutty but no full whorishness, ya'll good - i should really put idiots in love as a tag shouldn't i - nsfw: grinding + some sexy, sexy second base lmao - no kingslayers, no rogues, no betas.

a/n— i hope ya'll forgive me. comment, reblog & like at will, mi luvs, mwa!

You don't really know what you were expecting come Sunday. Once you started to 'ehh' 'hmmm' and 'maybe's your way through random moments with Helaena after the radio silence from Aemond— your best friend put her foot down.

"Fuck him," Helaena grumbled. "You've been going to Sunday dinners before he was even born, you are not backing down now."

 You snorted. "That's wildly inaccurate."

"Point still stands. Fuck. Him. You deserve my mother's tiramisu cake. He doesn't get to take that from you." Her eyes widen as if trying to instil her determination into your system via eye contact. "You are not going to let him take that from you."

You nodded. That's at least a point to pro you can stand by. Though she can't cook to save her life— Alicent's words, not yours — the woman sure can bake. It became therapeutic for her, she once said. How measuring ingredients and kneading dough to patiently folding cream after another kept her mind quiet and her hands busy.

"My faith strongly does not advise rage shooting, you know?" Alicent once hummed.

"Did you mean 'range' shooting?"

"Oh?" she nodded absentmindedly, smiling. "Yes, that too."

"That's true," you mused. Tiramisu cake was her mother's specialty. Every Sunday, she has all attendees pack up at least one cake per person and you and Hel usually stave off bites throughout the week until the next Sunday comes.  "I deserve some tiramisu cake, gods be damned it."

"Plus, if you come with me, we'll get two cakes to take home instead of one." She wagged her finger. "We count as two separate entities with one fridge, it's our greatest privilege."

"Daeron calls it preferential treatment."

"I am her only daughter, of course I get preferential treatment."

"As you should, bestie."

Even when you've stopped struggling with choosing if you were going or not, your mind is never faraway from thinking about Aemond. You wonder if he's finally gotten back with Alys was a bad train of thought, while an even worse train of thought is how soft his lips were and how he holds your hair to pull you close when his tongue glides across your bottom lip.

You blink, shaken from the thought. Bad. Bad brain. Stop it.

And repeat. At this point, it was safer to think about Alys and Aemond.

According to previous cycles, by this point they'd be at the height of their newly blossomed relationship— all sweet kisses and heated looks, unable to stop touching each other much less act a little bit better when they're trying to leave a group function to fuck their brains out — so you wouldn't be surprised to see come Sunday that he arrives with Alys— both of them tall, gorgeous with just enough undertone of smirky, smarmy tension that would make you want to stab your own eye out — pointedly ignoring you or whatever happened between you and him.

It hurt to think about sure, but what else did you think was going to happen?

That call made a space the size of a puddle that turned into a lake, welled deep with unresolved feelings and untouched topics. More questions than answers, drawing lines both of you were too scared to tug and see.

It's big enough to notice, and both stubborn enough not to anything about it.

You tried. Well, you almost did. In the weird hours of the day when your brain and body are more physically disjointed so rationality gives way to adrenaline. Most of the time, this is during working hours. You, checking your phone, running around his profile with your thumb a few times, biting your lip as your mind blanks and your body fights to call him. Or leave a message.

Before your mind and body reconnects and you fling your phone as far away from you as possible.

It's weird. You've never fought with Aemond before. If this was considered fighting. You've been disappointed in him, gotten angry and annoyed with him, but someone always, always offers an olive branch.

Every time you think about that call, you close up, your annoyance flares, and you shove your phone away.

In your amicable defense, this was primarily his problem. You weren't truly dating. He made it clear every choice he was making was en toward the agreed conditions were of making his ex jealous enough to take him back, yada yada yada.

Even if, possibly, you wanted more, he made no actual steps to make it known that he was considering it too.

Funny stares on your lips don't count. The only sabbatical from sexual adventures Aemond got were the breakup round with Alys, and as established before, they got it on pretty frequently.

Another thought bubble about Aemond's lips pops in your head, the mint from his toothpaste and the coffee from his black with no sugar, no milk, the way he seemed to suckle on your sighs—

Gods. Damn. It.

Focus.

That last call?

You're a grown ass woman. You're allowed to do whatever you want with whomever you want, and you're not going to make Aemond Targaryen's steely silence of what— disappointment? Of your choices? Of your choice in Cregan Stark and Cregan Stark Jr? Of what you were doing? Sure he was faithful to the Seven, a good old religious boy raised by his momma, but it doesn't make him a saint. Just because he's clinging to the vestiges of first love thinking it could very well be his last doesn't make him holy, or warrant enough to judge you for getting your little you some good dick.

Life is hard. Good dick is hard to come by!

So. Yeah. Days leading up to Sunday was radio silence and way too many thoughts circling your head like vultures, eating away at logic and rationality, and stubbornly still, you refused to make contact. If it's not out of pride, it's out of hurt.

Because he could apologise, but Aemond wasn't known for his apologies.

But then you remembered the flowers, the tulips, and now you just felt sad. Moping, getting annoyed, and trying to get through work without breaking your phone speeds the week in a blur.

Come Sunday afternoon, Helaena was coming to pick you up from her shift at the vet— the beauty of having a vet bff is the Russian roulette of pictures; you never know if you're about to get cuddly new patients with big, sad eyes and pouty snouts or her newest c-section win without any attempts of a blur — so you could get to her mother's house together, you decided to go for the nines with your outfit.

A sweet summer dress later, some gold gladiator sandals half off from your favourite but largely can't afford shoe boutique that you swear you were always going to wear to make up for the insane price (thank the gods Alicent didn't have a no shoe policy because it takes fifteen minutes to get them on and you cannot be on the floor, on her house, with Aemond around, rolling around like a hot potato on the entry way trying to get a fucking shoe on), dusted and prepped in you're fancier version of makeup, and was just finishing off your hair— using the good mousse whilst blaring Disney epics — when knocking came.

You freeze.

On one hand, it could just be Helaena, forgetting her keys again somewhere as she had done so numerous times before, but there hadn't been a slew of expletives or her impression of a cool, clinical voice saying, ''Tis I, the Stranger, have come for thee soul! Open up I gotta pee, woman!' so you got a pretty good guess on the alternative, sending your heart into a stutter and get smacked with a well deep of yearning.

You miss Aemond. You miss hanging out with him, even just having him on video call whilst you prepped a late dinner and he's working out his thesis defense, too late for either of you, but catching another's eye in the tiny phone and sharing a comforted grin. You miss being called my lady in a language that means so much to him, miss bumping shoulders and smelling his crisp scent of cologne and laundry.

Miss his lips, his very soft, very delicious lips—

"Gods damnit, woman, keep it together," you murmur to yourself. Another series of knocks, ever patient, and you're moved by body not mind as breathless giddiness yanks the door open—

Only to fall flat.

"Oh." You can't hide your disappointment at the curly blond with the smirk for centuries. "Aegon. I didn't know it was you."

"Yes, the expressive disappointment in your eyes could bring a man on the edge to his downfall, I must say," he jokes hoarsely, a little hurt. "Not even a hi Aeg. I've missed you Aeg, or— hey Aeg! You look good enough to eat!"

It's Aegon. Not Aemond. Or Helaena. Helaena and Aemond's older brother, Aegon. Party rocking, cocaine hiding, sweat and someone's lipstick smelling Aegon. You like him despite his whorishness because he's funny, because he's sweet when he wants to be, and he always, always gets you a funny mug when he comes back from wherever he came from.

You blink a couple of times, laughing awkwardly as you give him a quick hug. He still smells the same, with the lightest tint of sun in him from his days at the beach not so long ago no doubt.

"Sorry, sorry. Hi Aeg, I've missed you Aeg, and yes, you do look good enough to eat, Aeg."

He hugs back tighter, smothering you in the denim jacket he's wearing and the curly edge of his white blond hair. He's got a new piercing and smells of new perfume.

"So do you, princess," he says as you step back and he appraises you appreciatively. "Those shoes can step on me any time."

"I will never."

"You will never," he says chirpily, moving back with a teasing grin. "Let me guess, you were waiting for my uglier version to come by and got too overwhelmed by the majesticness of me."

'"Majesticness isn't even a word." You snort. "And Aemond is not your uglier version, you don't look that alike."

He raises an eyebrow as you blink. Fuck. "Dear me oh my, I meant Helaena, babe. When did Aemond get into the mix?"

You shove his shoulder, huffing as you pick up your keys and bag, forcing him to step back as you lock the apartment, trying to give yourself grace from his burning, teasing stare. "As if Helaena didn't tell you." You finally turn to him, lips pursed at his faux innocent pout. "Helaena tells you everything."

"She might have mentioned a thing or two about a thing or two." He bumps your hip as you both get into the elevator. "Imagine my surprise when Lae-lae tells me of a wondrous development between her two favourite people that involved a breakup, some gift-giving shenanigans, and kissing." He gasps dramatically as you groaned. "I leave for what— a month or two and suddenly you and Aemond are making out? Babe, I must say, you're doing the tongue tango with the wrong brother."

 "He's not the wrong brother, also the tongue tango? Really?" you snap suddenly. The wrong brother comments always irk you because you understand that it's a sensitive issue to Aemond, as well as Aegon himself.

But it's a bait you realise too late because Aegon Targaryen enjoys hauling truths from people in steps and tricks, uncaring if he takes a stab or two to get there as you meet his gaze against the reflective wall, positively smirking.

"Really now?"

"Why are you even picking me up? I thought you were in Oldtown."

"Already sorted. Hel wanted to make sure you get there in time, she's going to be late... After all your earlier ride backed out didn't he?"

Your mouth pursed, annoyance prickling at your edges as the elevator pulled into the lobby. "I don't want to talk about it, where's your car?"

He whistles, languid and all the time in the world on his shoulders with just the hint of smug. "It's a thirty minute ride, babe, you're going to spill."

You shoot him a withering glare. "Not if I have say in it." For emphasis, you yank his door and slam it. Fuck his new Maserati.

"Mature!"

Thirty minutes is more than ample time for Aegon Targaryen to weed his way into your brain like the worst case of earworm (like a stupid ass commercial jingle that just. Won't. Stop) that by the time you reach his mother's, you were ranting.

"—like I get it, saying I'm going out with another guy to get some good dick after confirming that we're going to your mother's for Sunday as a date is bad, but we're not really dating! He said so himself! He pressed the issue of it not being a real thing! And he didn't attempt any—"

"— any communication at all," Aegon echoes, stretching his legs as he stood. "Not a sorry or anything."

"Anything!" you bolster, slamming his door again that is less about him and more about the aggressiveness. "I know that he's bad at apologising, or facing things that are hard, choosing to stew in it and act all shitty to people, I just... I thought he'd at least tell me. Doesn't that warrant our friendship?"

"Hm. Ever think that's precisely why he struggles with you?"

"What does that even mean?"

"That he cares about you, so he struggles more with expressing himself."

You turn to him, cocking your head. "When did you get so wise, oh Gandalf?"

"A Seven focused rehab facility can do that to you," he muses wistfully. "There was this nun that says verses when she orgasms."

You make a face. "Love the fun fact."

"You're welcome. But back to point, isn't the issue also the fact that you never tried to make contact with him either?"

"Well. Yeah. Because..."

Aegon squints at you sympathetically. "Because you're scared of rocking the boat because of how much you like him?"

"Not, well," you hesitate. "Not like that precisely..."

"How much you're capable of liking him?" Aegon smiles wryly. "You had a crush on him, I remembered that at least. When Hel first introduced you to him, you couldn't stop teasing him until he lit up like a Christmas tree. I knew you liked him since then. You called him pretty half the time, and I started to realise it was less about his reaction but how you actually see him, and speaking as the naturally cherub, pretty boy of the family, I find this highly, highly offensive."

You pinch his cheeks, wounding your arm over his shoulder. Aegon was built like a linebacker with less muscles that aren't postern, with wide shoulders and a strong body that's too easy to lean against.

"You're pretty too, Aeg," you coo. "But he's just..."

 "If you say ethereal, I will vomit right in my mother's petunias." He makes a face. "How about this. The problem is that you think Aemond doesn't like you back."

You frown at him. "I know Aemond doesn't like me back."

"Oh, sweetie," Aegon coos, sympathy and pity swirling in his smug, smug smile. "I'm so glad you're pretty."

You pinch his sides until he squirms. "Fuck you, what the hell?"

"What I'm saying is, let's test that, you know? Because that's the only variable you aren't sure with?"

You sigh. "Aeg, even if he does, I'm not going to pounce—"

The door swings open, and there he is, of pretty boy face and good boy posture because his mother raised herself a good, devout boy who doesn't know what a slouch is because he's not an ape— and is he wearing his leather jacket? Of course he's wearing the leather jacket and you know that smell, that spiced cologne with the leather and his natural scent and fuck, Aemond is looking at you, looking at his brother, and the open expression, the shock, that smidge of relief— shutters to an icy politeness.

Aegon because he's Aegon, pulls you closer, his mouth curling into a grin that only says trouble, forcing Aemond to straighten up his already perfect posture in preparation for whatever his brother has in mind and his stare is white-hot on the conjoined appendages between you and his brother— and Aegon lands a wet, smacking kiss on your cheekbone.

"Had to pick up your girl, baby bro, I mean what kind of—" his blue gaze finds his mother descending the stairs, peering out to see on who it was, and you're frozen, waiting for the bomb to drop and simultaneously unprepared for it, "— boyfriend has his brother pick up his girl? Good thing you got a good excuse, huh? Oh, hey mother dearest! Your favourite son has come back!"

As Aegon leaves your side with a cheeky little wink, you bit your lip at the frosty look on his face that makes you feel like an absolute idiot and fills you with rage all in one go. Because Aemond has never looked at you like that, like you were at fault and acting like a child, but that you also want to jut a finger against his chest.

"Did you have a nice talk with him on the drive over?" he says, jaw hard.

"I didn't tell him," you hiss, taking the hem of his leather jacket instead of his hands enough so you can pretend to kiss his cheeks because his mother is right there, eyes wide at that two of you as Aegon gave you a discreet thumbs up.

"Helaena did. Get over yourself, your mother's—"

 "Aemond?"

As he freezes and Alicent calls your name, you plaster the best smile you can make as you twine your fingertips with his.

"Smile."

"Hm."

When you leave his side to greet Alicent, you make sure to stomp on his stupid shoes.

As soon as you've finished your mandatory greetings— even with Otto Hightower, Aemond's grandfather, who merely raised his eyebrows at the apparent new status of you and his grandson, Alicent having to blink multiple times, wrangling positives as she kept shooting her son looks while he stood like a block of ice behind you — Aemond takes your hand by his own volition, tangles your fingers too tight, and starts tugging you along like a bouy.

"Are you a child?" you hiss, trying to pry your hand as insistently without outright yanking, Alicent already sending you both concerned looks at a news that she called 'oh, that is wonderful!'

"I am younger than you," he murmurs back, holding you tight.

"Oh, fuck you."

With a defeated huff, you take longer, heavier strides and stomps so you're the one dragging him.

It's all illusion of control built on pettiness because you're still being navigated, it's more just pride at this point, but you don't care, and when he scoffs right back, you felt at least a pinch of a win.

And then he, of course, matches your strides so fucking easily.

"Freaking horse-legged motherfucker," you mumble. You don't know if he catches it, or you're imaging the soft, surprised noise that's both a snort and a laugh.

He winds you around the hallway, an unbreakable trajectory to the backyard, dragging you past an easy eye view from the dramatic, floor to ceiling windows and trespassing straight into the hedge maze because of course they had one of those.

"Really? Here?"

"Do you want to be ogled up by my mother?" he says in a nauseatingly chipper voice. "Is that what you and Aegon are planning with all this, hm?"

You twist out of his grip, walking deeper on your own until your eyes are swallowed by the darkness. When you turn to him, your eyes adjust, only seeing the silver of his hair, so different from his black leather jacket and dark green jumper. You don't see his expression or his sharp gaze.

"Planned this? Seriously? Nothing since coming here had been planned, Aemond," your voice has bite and if your eyes had adjusted faster, or if you could see better, you would see the flinch he makes, "if it had been, this certainly would be the last of my fucking choices. Or do I have to remind you of the fact that we were supposed to go together? Oh right, things change when you drop a call out of fucking nowhere!"

"I—fuck." He moves around, a hand through his hair as exhales in frustration. "I didn't... think you'd want to go with me. That Sunday plans had been cancelled."

"And you didn't think to message? I mean it's not like we're friends in literally every social media." You try not to sound hurt before taking a deep breath, offering your palms up. "I didn't—don't even know what the issue is, Aemond. Were you so offended that I was sexually active that you just had to rudely drop the call and not talk—"

It's maybe the darkness, or intuition but you can bet half yours savings that Aemond Targaryen is blushing.

"It... gods, no it's not... I wasn't offended that you were sexually active," he says softly, evenly. He clears his throat. "I don't... mind that you're... sexually active. I actively... support it. Even." He coughs. Swallows. Curses.

If you don't feel like your heart is pounding in your throat you would have laughed. You had never seen the boy this flustered before that it's affecting his words, because Aemond has always been the most well spoken person you know.

"Is it about Cregan? Do you have something against Cregan?"

His eye flutter close. "No... and yes."

"I don't understand, Aemy," you whisper, defeated.

He sighs. In the dark, you notice a movement. His hands flex. It's a habit he's had since you've known him. It's instinct. The way you reach out, finding a piece of his leather jacket until you find your way to his hands, running your fingers over the bones and ridges, his sinew and skin. There are callouses from his fencing, running your thumb over his knuckles.

He's frozen first before he sighs, melting through the warmth you share with him.

 "I have nothing against Stark," he finally says. "It's the fact that you were still having sex with him that I found unfair." He steps closer until you can see his face better, the struggle in him can be told through the furrow in his brows and the press of his pillowy lips, red and wet as if he had bitten through it. "I... understand that we're not really together, but I couldn't... not feel as if it wasn't right. As if I wanted it to be me."

His hands finds your arms, eye closing and gently placing his forehead against your own. At first you panic, your body trying to make your brain decide do you like this or not but it's Aemond, and he's warm, gentle, sweet almost. It's familiar and new at the same time. It's warmth you recognise, skin you will know anywhere, but in a way that you've never felt him before.

You close your eyes and breathe with him.

You know that this is rare. That this Aemond is reserved for people he loves and cares about, but with his forehead against yours, with his hands holding you steady, rubbing a comforting thumb over your skin that felt just as for him as it was for you, breathing you in and exhaling you out. A single breath between two bodies.

"I don't know if I can agree to that, Aemy."

"What?" He pulls back, hurt pulling taunt your favourite pair of lips. "Do you like Cregan more? You don't think I can please you?"

"That's not—"

His hands closes on your face, cupping it in his palms as you stare, wide-eyed at the blue fire lit up in his eye. His breath brushes your lips, making them tingle.

"Push me away if you don't want it," he says before his eye closes and he takes your mouth against his own, swallowing your gasp then pulling you away again, eye glinting.

"Push me away, ñuha riña." His voice is so soft, words crisp while your body thrummed in a single, frantic heartbeat. When you don't move, too shock, thoughts tangled, he smirks.

With his teeth, he captures your bottom lip, grazing it. When he feels you shudder, eyes fluttering, he chuckles meanly.

"Push me away as if you don't want me." He tilts your chin up as he looks down on you, eye confident in its lust. His thumb brushes your bottom lip. "As if you don't feel everything I do."

"Fuck you," you manage to exhale as you grab the back of his head and devour him just as you did at the restaurant. He groans, using his other hand to feel your side, pass your one breast, giving it a firm squeeze that makes you gasp, tongue clashing, legs tangling as you push and push and he pulls you to him, his back hitting the prickly hedge. It's teeth and tongue, breaths twisted in one air as you used each other like lifelines, like enemies in a swords match.

It's feverish and passion, infuriating want that gives. Because when you dominate the kiss, tangling his tongue with your own, yanking him down and down as if you want him to reach every part of you inside, he bends and follows. And when he pulls you, tangles your hair and takes every gasp and breath, you surrender.

He groans when you suck on his bottom lip, pulling away just enough to spit out, "You taste so much better than my dreams." His mouth moves down and down, leaving a path of heat as he suckles at your neck, practically ripping the buttons of the top of your dress as he slides down and grunts in pain.

"A-Aemy?" Your eyes flutter. "Your back, shit—"

"Fuck that." He tugs you down until you land with an oomph! on his lap, your chest at his eye level before he drags them back to your gaze. "Tell me to stop."

You shake your head, tangling your fingers in his hair. "No."

"Good."

Your back arches, supported in his hold, as he starts sucking the skin lower and lower, another hand massaging your tit that pools hot down your core until his hand, warm and solid, sinew and bone, and Aemond Aemond Aemond, slides between your bra and cups your breast and his hand is so big, and it feels so good that you start grinding on the hard length you feel right at your—

An ear-splitting shriek freezes the both of you. You and Aemond pull back, hand still on your tit.

"Wha—"

"Ew, ew, ew! Mom said you were fighting! FIGHTING DOES NOT EQUATE FUCKING IN THE MAZE, YOU FUCKING CLICHES!"

TAGGED: @snowprincesa1 @gemini-mama @fan-goddess @snh96 @valeskafics @opheliaas-stuff @tempo-rary-fix @fantasticpeaceharmony @diannnnsss @iamavailablesstuff @spinachtz @at-a-rax-ia @bespinnn @tsujifreya @moonlightfoxx @kemillyfreitas @joyouart @bananzaa @honey-on-mars @alexa4040 @cinnamonbambii @wintrr13 @wxb-slingrr @astroswift @queenofshinigamis @helaenaluvr @kaetastic @jxdegodfrey @laniii-on-your-left @watercolorskyy @microwaveallthedemons @kazuyatokue @herfantastyworldd @averyyreads @urmomsgirlfriend1 @bellstwd @jiminie-08 @ttkttt @nockerin @backyardfolklore @random-ocity @hc-geralt-23 @vendettasblog @cicaspair418 @malynn @anehkael @schadenfreude-and-sarcasm

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #ewan mitchell #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond angst #aemond x reader #hotd angst #aemond x you #hotd fanfiction #elle writes !! ꒱ ↷˗ˏˋ🍒 #tshbft ༊*·˚ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ

[deadaldipshit-jpg]

↳ ❝¡ROMANCE TROPES WITH SKZ!❞

Hyung line x gn reader

Genre - fluff

wordcount - 1.3k (300+ words per member)

An - I hope you guys like it. ill be posting the maknae line later today or latest by tomorrow. if you like them, let me know if you would like full fics for each of them. if you like it please like and reblog. feedback is appreciated. Let me know if you want to be tagged in the maknae line.

Chan - love at first sight `*:;,．★

You were on your way home, talking to your friend on your phone. You bumped into someone when you cut the call to put your phone back into your bag. His drink spilt all over you, and he began profusely apologising to you. When you finally got him to stop, you were able to take a good look at him. He was the most beautiful and kindest-looking man you had ever seen.  He felt the same when he looked at you. To make it up to you, he asked you if he could take you out to a cafe. “I don't even know your name” “I’m chan” “Y/n” “can you please say yes or no cause I feel so bad and I really want to make it up to you.” You obviously said yes. 

You exchanged numbers and an hour later he sent you a text. You guys decided to meet at a local cafe the following week. You had expected it to be extremely casual, so you swooned when you saw that he had bought you flowers. He bought you a drink and you sat down in the back of the cafe. The conversation between you two started as small talk, but it changed into much more. You both seemed to get along so well, that you stayed there talking for hours and only left when the cafe was about to close. 

Chan, being the absolute sweetheart he was, walked you all the way back home. “I really hope we can do this again,” he said, looking at you with the softest gaze you had ever seen. “I would too” you replied in an instant, feeling like you would float with how happy you were. “Can I kiss you” chan whispered. “Yes.” And when you felt his lips on yours, you knew he was the one.

Minho - enemies to lovers `*:;,．★

You don't know how it started, you both probably started off on the wrong foot. But lee Minho was the most infuriating man you had ever met. When the two of you were together, it was like sodium with water. You were absolutely positive that you would never get along. He thought the same. You were both at Changbin’s party. There were a lot of people who you didn't know. Halfway through the party, you found yourself sitting in the back of the party, a glass in your hand waiting for Felix to stop socialising so that you could leave or at least not feel left out. 

As time went on you realised that Felix was only going to be able to talk to you once the party was over so you decided to leave. You almost did until you were stopped by Minho. “So typical of you to just leave the party when it's just starting,” he said while following you out the door. “Yes I was about to leave but what about you?” “I'm coming with you, obviously, did you really think I was going to miss a chance to annoy you.”

 But to both of your surprise, he didn't. You were pretty sure that was the first time you had a civil conversation with him. You talked for hours and learnt a lot about him. This was the first of multiple times where you two would leave parties to just talk and hang out. He was much nicer to you and even behaved like a softie, which you would never point out the cause so were you. The feeling you had towards him had flipped a switch. Once when you were leaving the party Minho grabbed hold of your arm. “Can this time be something more than a hangout” “do you mean a date” “only if you want it to be” “of course”

Changbin - best friend brother `*:;,．★

Changbin was off-limits. But that never stopped dreaming about him. He was so close but so far away. As your brother's best friend and gym bro, you saw him almost every day. But that didn't mean that you ever got used to seeing him in all his glory. To your dismay, not only was he the most attractive man you had ever met, but also the nicest. Being around him was always so difficult cause all you wanted to do was kiss him. Being your brother's closest friend meant that your parents loved him. And that resulted in him being invited to your family vacation. 

As if things couldn't get any worse, he was sitting right next to the entire drive there. You couldn't help but look his way with loving glances. You blushed and looked away any time he caught you staring. It wasn't like he minded it, he thought you were so cute when you did. You had a room to yourself in the place you were staying, your parents sharing one and changing and your brother in the other. It was not supposed to change until your brother happened to fall ill on the first day of the week-long trip. 

You all decided that your brother would get a room to himself to not spread the illness so that the rest of you could enjoy the trip. You did not realise what that meant until Changbin walked into your room. You tried your best to not let him know how nervous you were, and you thought you succeeded, until this man said, “You're so cute right now” your heart was about to burst out of your chest. “You can calm down, I really like you too. I wanted to tell you all day but since you were too shy to look at me I had your brother fake being sick,” he stated, as he pulled you into his arms. “You like me” “of course I like you silly, now let me give you a kiss, or at least give you the best cuddles of your life."

Hyunjin - fake dating `*:;,．★

You had a history of terrible exes. When you found out that your ex was stalking you, and trying to win back your love, you did the only thing that would work. You were going to date the one man who they really hated, Hwang Hyunjin. You could barely just tolerate Hyunjin yourself but desperate times called for desperate measures. You almost begged him to say yes, but it suited his circumstances. He was in desperate need to hide away from some of the girls who were obsessed with him. 

You both knew that it needed to look real. So the only thing you weren't supposed to do was kiss each other on the lips. And any hugging and other pda were not done when people weren't around. When people heard you were dating, everyone was shocked and happy for you. You didn't expect people to love you guys as a couple that much. Even though you weren't really dating, since you had to spend so much time together, a friendship blossomed. But just like every fake relationship, feelings also arose. Hyunjin was always so sweet to you, buying you flowers, taking you on dates, sleeping in together and even gifting you a painting of his for your birthday, that you fell harder than you have ever had before. 

When you realised the extent to which your feelings were, you had two choices, either you would ‘breakup’ with him to hide your feelings, or you would confess and risk ruining what you had. You didn't want Hyunjin to hate you, so you decided to confess. You were at his place on his couch, watching a movie when you decided to confess. “Um, Hyunjin?” “yea sweetheart” your heart was bursting in your chest, maybe he felt the same. “I like you” “I like you too” “I mean I like like you” “I like like you as well” “are you just repeating what I'm saying or do actually like me back, are u being honest or-” he broke your train of thought and words by pressing his lips on yours. His lips were so soft against yours and you felt so blissful. “Does that answer your question, or do I need to kiss the doubt out of you.” “you may have to kiss me some more to confirm it”

#🍒 — works #stray kids #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagines #bangchan fluff #bangchan imagines #lee know fluff #lee know imagines #changbin fluff #changbin imagines #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin imagines #skz x reader #skz x gn reader #bang chan x gender neutral reader #lee know x reader #changbin x gender neutral reader #hyunjin x reader #bangchan #lee know #changbin #hyunjin #bangchan scenarios #lee know scenarios #changbin scenarios #hyunjin scenarios #chan imagines #bangchan x reader #lee know x you #changbin x reader

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

Hi Elanor, we met briefly on the taping of your husband's fringe show and you were super nice, no good deed etc. I'm pretty sure I've seen you post about lecturing at a uni.

I've been thinking about heading back to uni for a master's, with the possibility of a career shift into academia after, but I'm somewhat wary of the lack of job security with fixed term contracts and such, and just generally unsure how one goes about getting a job teaching at uni. Most people I know in academia are primarily interested in research, with the idea of lecturing being mostly incidental, I'm almost the other way around.

How did you get started in your field, and how much of that do you think applies to new entrants today? Did you have to/get to make a choice between research and lecturing? Any insight you might have, or a starting point for further research would be greatly appreciated.

Hello again! It was lovely meeting you!

Sure, yes, so, my path in began as an HPL - an hourly paid lecturer. A colleague on my old degree course was signed off work with stress, so another old lecturer of mine was asking if any graduates wanted to do a bit of lecturing to cover him. It coincided with my job losing its main funding and so going to part time hours, so it worked.

It started as one module for one semester. Which became the module for the year, then two and a half the following year, then four the next two years. And then, under UK law, if you hold an HPL contract with the same institution for four years, they have to give you a proper contract, so now I'm on a permanent four days a week with full lecturer status.

And then if you do it that way round i.e. become a lecturer before holding a teaching qualification, the uni will pay to put you through a PCET - I'm due to finish my PCET in May this year.

HPL work... Well. There are advantages and disadvantages to this approach. HPLs are the lecturing equivalent of hospital cleaning staff - absolutely vital and chronically overlooked and underpaid. It's a zero hours position, so you get paid only for the time you spend actually delivering the lectures, at a rate (IIRC it was about £33 per hour?) that assumes one hour's prep for every two hours lecture. Needless to say, prepping a two hour lecture takes longer than an hour. You also don't get paid for the marking you do, and you receive basically no guidance on how to actually teach - best case scenario is that they can give you copies of the lecture slides used by previous academics in the role, which you can use as a guide or amend to your liking. And the final topping on the shit cake is that HPL contracts run for a semester at a time, so they very much fall into the 'precarious employment' bracket.

But, as I say, you can very quickly make yourself indispensable, and then after four years they have to give you a contract. Or, you just do it to mine it for the experience for a CV. I've known people who did HPL work for two unis at once while studying a PCET and then walked into a proper position in a third elsewhere.

Because the other root is to get a Masters, get a PCET (as part of which you need to do a placement anyway), and then apply for lecturer roles. Again, advantages and disadvantages - these days, lecturer roles are hotly contested. But it's very possible, I know many who have done it.

So! Regarding the other part of your question!

Some universities are more teaching focused, others are more research focused, some are a bit of both. If you know that the main thing you want to do is the teaching part, then you want to give priority to the universities that are more teaching focused themselves. These are usually the non-Russell Group prestigious ones, particularly the ones with a slightly more local student body. Anything with a qualifier like 'Metropolitan' after its name, either now or in the recent past, is a good idea - in Wales, for example, UWTSD includes the old Swansea Met, USW includes the old Cardiff Met, etc. Those are more teaching focused institutions (and therefore better at serving non traditional students, too, especially disabled ones), so in career terms, those are handy to shoot for.

(Also, those can have high turnovers of research academics by contrast. So it's usually relatively easy to get HPL work from them to plug employment gaps.)

Anyway - that's me. Good luck if you do decide to try it! Let me know if you have any other questions

#asks #the professional world of careers and tasks

[fleshbarbie]

you’re a badass - steve harrington x f!reader

contains: billy being an asshole & threatening lucas/reader, reader standing up to billy, protective!steve(ish), fluff, lumax.

the cold wind from the outside world was the first thing to greet you as soon as you left the building you were forced to enter five days a week, and you couldn’t be happier. you had finally finished school, after many torturous hours spent attending classes full of people you despised and teachers that were clearly only there for a paycheck. you were finally free and you only had one destination in mind - home.

you made up your mind as you pushed past the annoying groups of people who decided to take up eighty percent of space in the halls that nothing would deter you from jumping straight in your car and driving home, the quicker you got there the quicker you could run a nice, warm bath, order some food and watch movies until you fell asleep. but the closer you made it to your car (that you were sure was actually calling your name at this point), a scene just a few feet away instantly caught your interest.

there stood the one and only billy hargrove, which alone wasn’t enough to distract you from your initial plans but surrounding the buff teen was a group of kids, more specifically the group of kids that usually hung around with one of your neighbours, lucas sinclair. they all looked nervous, scared as if billy was a threat to them which left you a tad confused. your pace slowed and you found yourself zoning in on the scene, trying your best to understand what was happening.

“i told you max, i don’t want you hanging around with these little shits. why don’t you listen, huh? do i need to teach you a lesson?” billy stuck his pointer finger in the redhead’s face, a scowl on his own face which was the complete opposite of the frightened one on his sisters.

“no billy, you don’t i wasn’t even with them i swear! i just- we all just happened to be walking in the same direction!” she was quick to defend herself, her arms flying around as the words left her lips.

billy scoffed, nodding his head as he glanced over to the boys who were all stood a good space away from billy. “you expect me to believe that shit max? you don’t want to listen to me, that’s fine. but i promise you they will.”

with that said, he was quick on his feet and began approaching the group who in return took several steps back, though there was an obvious target in billy’s sight as he ignored everyone else, his eyes zoning in on lucas only.

that’s when you decided to step in knowing that if you didn’t, someone was going to end up hurt and even if all of them managed to defend themselves against the hargrove boy, he’d still probably end up on top. he of course had all the advantages; taller, older and more athletic.

“hey hargrove! are you crazy? that’s a twelve year old boy you’re about to attack!”

your voice was enough to bring him to a halt - and just in time too. he was about two seconds away from coming in contact with the older sinclair sibling, who looked like a deer caught in headlights which had your heart aching at the sight. the californian glanced back at you, fury still present in his eyes, even more so at the interruption. “mind your business (y/l/n). this has nothing to do with you.”

it was your turn to scoff now, you approached the teen without hesitance despite his clear bad mood and stood between him and lucas. “if you think i’m just going to get in my car and let you do whatever it is you were about to do, then you’re a lot stupider than i originally thought you were.” you spat at him.

the comment had landed a huge blow to his ego, that was obvious when his fists tightened and max let out a gasp, shocked that you had the balls to stand up to him like that. you didn’t back down though, not even when he took a step closer to you, so close to you now that if you had the time you’d probably be able to count each eyelash per eye.

“if you don’t move out of my way, sinclair won’t be the only person getting what’s coming to him.”

“yeah, no. that’s not gonna happen.”

this time another voice was interrupting the moment, one that was instantly familiar to you. steve harrington was now stood to your side, you hadn’t even seen him enter the car park, never mind approach all of you but you were guessing that was because you were too focused on the asshole stood with his chest almost touching yours.

your eyes left billy’s, now hooked on steve’s who were filled with a great mixture of anger, concern and annoyance. he looked back at you, his lips lifting to send you a small smile which you were eager to return before the moment was ruined by billy who laughed, though there was no amusement present.

“oh what a surprise, pretty boy here has come to save his girl, like some knight in shining armour. can’t stand it when you’re not the centre of attention, isn’t that right .. king steve?”

steve’s old title had him cringing on the inside, he couldn’t believe he was once the person he used to be. dropping carol and tommy was one of the smartest decisions he had ever made - that and finally working up the courage to ask you on that date a few months ago.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about man, i’m just here to put a stop to whatever you think you’re about to do next.” steve gestured to both you and lucas, who were now stood side-by-side with lucas gripping onto your arm. “i know you think this whole tough look is a huge turn on for the ladies, but really? to hit not only an actual child but a girl too? in front of everyone? i’d like to see you try and restore your reputation after that.”

billy actually seemed to take his words into consideration, his blue eyes scanning the car park which was still semi-full of teens despite the fact that school had ended almost ten minutes ago now. a lot of people that attended hawkins high did have very skewed morals, but none of them would stand for someone who went around attacking anyone and everyone they pleased. there were certain lines you just shouldn’t cross, an (almost) grown man hitting a child and a woman were definitely across those lines.

so with one last hateful filled glance towards all of you, specifically you and lucas, he reluctantly took a step back and lucas’ grip on you loosened as he finally relaxed.

“whatever. come on max, get your shit we’re going home.” he pushed past steve, his shoulder purposefully pressing against steve’s who didn’t bother to entertain the obvious attempt to rile him up.

“don’t bother, i’ll be taking her home today.” you spoke up, sending a max a gentle look that told her to stay put and the girl didn’t even bother fighting. you could only imagine what she was expecting to endure on the way home with her ‘brother’.

billy’s jaw tightened, he gripped onto the door handle of his blue camaro and you knew he was fighting the urge to say ‘fuck it’ and finish what he had planned to do before steve made an appearance, but after a good ten seconds of a tense silence passed, he eventually pulled the door open and slammed it with force before he sped out of the parking lot with his music blasting and a middle finger to you all through the window.

the rest of you relaxed the second his car was out of sight, all sharing a look before the younger kids burst out laughing, which soon had you and steve joining in at the contagious sound.

“(y/n), you’re a badass.” max said with widened eyes, “i don’t think i’ve ever seen anyone stand up to billy like that .. except his dad.”

“isn’t she just?” steve smiled, his arm wrapping around your shoulder to bring you into his side. once you were comfortably resting against him he pressed a kiss to your temple, one that left you smiling at the show of affection.

“yeah well, there was no way i was going to leave you all with him like that. he looked like he was ready to kill all of you.” you grimaced, suddenly feeling the need to thank your lucky stars that you had showed up when you did.

they all nodded in agreement, dustin throwing in a quick “yeah. does he take steroids? he looks like he takes steroids.” to which max replied with an eye roll before she began making her way towards your car that was parked only three spots away from where billy’s car had just been.

“so ... do you have any plans for tonight?” you looked up to your boyfriend, who was already looking down at you with a look that could only be described as complete admiration.

you felt your cheeks heat up slightly at how powerful his gaze felt, but shook your head nonetheless. “honestly, no. was just gonna go home, eat and watch a few movies. nothing exciting.”

he nodded, his lips pursing together slightly as if he was deep in thought. “well i’ve heard, that when doing stuff like that .. it’s usually a lot more fun when you have someone with you to you know, do stuff like that with.”

you laughed at the not so subtle approach of the boy inviting himself over, not that you were planning on keeping him away. “oh really?”

steve nodded, and the two of you began to slowly make your own way to your car where max was now leaning against with lucas, who were having their own little conversation. “yeah, definitely. all the time actually.”

“well in that case ... would you like to join me, king steve?”

he groaned at the nickname that you had repeated, this time in a teasing tone opposed to billy’s attitude earlier. he shoved your shoulder playfully, which left you giggling at the childish behaviour that wasn’t unusual coming from your almost nineteen years old boyfriend.

“i don’t know.” he smiled, “is my girlfriend gonna bully me the whole night?”

“hmm ... maybe she’ll be less inclined to tease you if you promise to watch valley girl with her again.”

you almost laughed again as steve’s face instantly turned to a frown at the mention of the movie you had forced him to watch near enough fifteen times now, at first he was all for it, agreeing with you that ‘okay maybe it’s a decent movie’. but now, the poor boy was sick to death of seeing the movie that he was sure he could recite line by line at this point.

“no promises.” he grumbled, and with a happy smile you leaned up on your tiptoes an inch to press a quick kiss to your boyfriends rosy cheek, knowing you wouldn’t be able to get away with much more with all the kids still hovering around.

finally approaching max who was still talking to lucas, you quickly unlocked the door to your car and gave steve one last wave as he began walking backwards towards his own car. he waved back, the smile not leaving his face as he did.

you got comfortable in your seat, waiting for max to do the same before you left the car park; giving out one last wave to not only steve but will (who joyce was now ushering into the car), mike, dustin and lucas.

“he’s so smitten, it’s crazy.”

you looked over to max who was rolling her eyes playfully, a grin on her face as she did. you laughed lightly, your eyes quickly flickering to her before they refocused on the road ahead of you. “who? steve or lucas?”

she never replied.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x f!reader #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fic #stranger things x reader #joe keery x reader #stranger things fic

[missmaywemeetagain]

Sergeant Presley (a one-shot)

A/N: Somehow, against all odds in this absolute chaos of a week, I managed to bang out the "Army Elvis" prompt for this week today, like a maniac. I am both shocked and amazed that I wrote a smutty one-shot without overthinking it but also be warned this is hardly edited or revised, nor even really thought out! 😂

Thanks always to my sister wives in chaos and crime: @be-my-ally @whositmcwhatsit @vintageshanny @ellie-24 @thatbanditqueen @powerofelvis and @from-memphis-with-love

TW: Smut! Orgasms! Basically no plot!

Rating: Mature 18+ || Word Count: 2.7k

Sergeant Presley (a one-shot)

He wants to fuck you. Oh lord how he wants to fuck you, from the moment you walk in the room and sit across the aisle from him.

Maybe it’s the curve of your calves and the way they disappear under your pencil skirt. Maybe it’s how your jacket notches in at your waist, accentuating your ample hips. Or perhaps it’s the fact that even with the conservative uniform and minimal to-do with your hair and make-up (as per regulations, of course), you still are absolutely gorgeous.

Or I’m just horny, Elvis thinks sardonically, shifting in his seat.

The movement catches your eye, and he watches curiously as you do a bit of a double take, eyes widening slightly in recognition before your head whips straight ahead.

He smirks to himself at that. It never gets old, the light that goes on in women’s eyes when they take him in in person. And he certainly isn’t getting much of it lately, being effectively shackled here in Germany, clad in his drab green Army fatigues.

Well, that’s not entirely true, he thinks as he pictures the fans that gather at all hours outside the house he’s renting while he’s here, about the girls he invites in. But it’s not quite the same, not the same at all, because his fame is tenuous and teetering here. Part of him is certain that they’ve all forgotten about him at home, despite the Colonel’s reports to the contrary, despite the new movie contracts and albums he is set to record as soon as he returns. However, the sliver of fear about his fate has burrowed deep these past two years and poisons him slowly, each day he is gone.

But now he’s counting days and weeks instead of months and years, and he can nearly taste being home. His fear and the antsy feeling that permeates him is overcome by anxious excitement now, so he’s feeling better than he has in a long time.

And here he is, getting his Sergeant stripes, and that fills him with a different sort of pride altogether.

So, perhaps it is all these factors combined that have him wanting to jump across the aisle, pull you into his arms, and kiss you silly.

He’s never seen you before and doesn’t know your name until they call you up to present you with your earned rank. Feeling a bit lecherous, he admires the view of your ass as you walk to the front and the heaving of your breast as they pin your stripes. Your pretty eyes catch his unabashedly heated gaze and pink floods your cheeks as he locks you in.

Elvis knows what he’s doing. While much of it is a natural sort of gift, he’s also honed his seductive abilities quite a bit in the last four years and gets paid a lot of money because of it. He’s also well aware that he looks good, filled out in a manly way but slimmed down in all the right areas, and right now, he’s not above using his looks to get your attention. And he so does want your attention, as much as he knows by virtue of your uniform and rank, you are completely off limits. He’s not stupid—he’s too close to the end for a court martial. Though he may not be able to fuck you the way he wants, it doesn’t mean he can’t have a little bit of fun.

Crossing his arms, he brings one hand to his mouth, letting his thumb catch on his full bottom lip and his mouth fall open slightly. Then he gazes at you with a pointed but dreamy stare, his eyes blinking slowly.

He watches you gulp and fidget at front of the room, all of which could be explained away by nerves of being put on the spot, but he knows he’s hit jackpot because there’s a little fire stoked in those lovely eyes now.

Tilting his head and raising a brow, he makes a private show of looking you up and down as you walk tenuously back to your seat. Giving him a glare of admonishment, you very purposefully do not look at him once you are seated again, but your hands wring in your lap, your leg crossing over towards him.

He’s flustered you. Warmth rolls over him, pooling in his pelvis, and through the rest of the ceremony, he tries not to think of bending you over your chair, yanking up your skirt, and sinking deep into your silky heat.

His cock twitches at the thought.

Later, fate intervenes on his behalf when he realizes you’ve been seated with him at the dinner banquet following the ceremony. He shakes your hand, introducing himself, letting his fingers squeeze and his thumb graze your palm a little too intimately. The gamut of emotions that flashes over your face before you bring down a stoic smile makes him chuckle.

He guides you to sit next to him, and while you hesitate at first, he knows he’s already won because of the way your eyes widen at the suggestion.

Now that you are close, his body goes into overdrive, and he is drunk on the sweetness of your perfume and the smoothness of your skin. He realizes he’s likely being too obvious in his flirtations but can’t bring himself to reign it in. The other men and women at the table have either consciously or subconsciously deferred to him and his charms, leaving no one to compete for your attention. He lays it on thick, wanting to eat you right up.

Elvis is hyperaware of every time you glance his direction, which is happening more often as he pulls you deeper into conversation, your cool exterior thawing bit by bit. But the way your eyes dilate and how you lick your lips when he brings the bottle of cola in front of him to his mouth has a zing of arousal shooting down his spine and straight into his cock.

Oh.

Nothing if not responsive, Elvis tongues the lip of the bottle before taking a slow drag of the sweet, fizzy soda. Your eyes are fixated now on his mouth, on the bottle, and he watches you catch your lower lip in your teeth as you stare.

Heat courses through him as he pulls the bottle away, tongue rolling over his bottom lip to catch the lingering drops of sugar caught there. You swallow visibly, and he doesn’t stop his teasing, unable to keep his lip from quirking into a delighted smirk at your attentions. Your eyes fly back up to his, as if just realizing you’ve been caught, and you flush a charming shade of red before clearing your throat and looking away quickly.

But every time he raises the bottle to his lips, your eyes catch like a moth to a flame. This time they follow his hand down as he sets the bottle on the table. Condensation gathers droplets on the cool glass and he relishes the smooth, wet feeling as he strokes the bottle with his thumb.

You fidget in your seat. It takes him a second to understand why, but once he does, he feels his cock chub up, caught mercilessly in his briefs and dress pants. The little, mischievous devil in him takes great pleasure watching you watch him make a show of gripping the bottle in his whole hand, slowly thumbing over the opening at the top again and again.

You choke a little and reach for your water, taking a deep drag and blinking rapidly, as if trying to come out of the spell he seems to have you under. You attempt to throw yourself into the conversation at the table, ignoring him with all your might, your body tense in your seat.

A challenge, he thinks, smiling.

Slowly, Elvis presses his knee into the side of your thigh, loving the way you nearly jump out of your seat in surprise at the contact. It’s like a bolt of electricity between you, and he starts to strain against his underwear.

Now that he has your attention, he places his hand back around the cola bottle, lewdly gripping it and slowly twisting his hand down and back up the glass. It’s truly not that far off from his actual size, so the motion feels almost too familiar, too easy. Your mouth pops open at the suggestive gesture and it takes everything in him to not lap his tongue into that delicate little mouth of yours. He matches his rhythm, stroking his knee against your leg, which also happens to provide some delicious friction in his pants. He feels you tense, squeezing your thighs together, and he cannot help but think of your little pink snatch likely staining your panties with slick right at this very moment.

Elvis almost groans aloud at that, catching it in his throat at the last second, but you seem to hear it and your eyes fly to his. Your pupils are blown out and cheeks are hot, and he can almost smell the arousal on you. Goddamn it, he wants to make you come, right here at the table, just for him, in front of everyone, who, wrapped up in their own conversations seem none the wiser at the seduction that is happening before them.

He’s hardly touching you but feels a surge of power when you fidget again, caught like willing prey in his stare. He can’t touch you more than he already is because that would get him in trouble, but if he can’t lay you across this table and fuck you senseless, he’s going to do it the only way he can.

His ministrations on the bottle are serving to arouse him just as much as you, each stroke making his cock twitch and strain and stiffen. Your eyes dart from his to the bottle, back and forth, your breath shallow and rapid. His eyes are heavy on you, unyielding, and look upon you as though you were under him, as though he were trapped and undulating in the heat of what he just knows is your perfect, untouched cunt.

You look back at him as though you know exactly what he’s thinking, as though your tight little hole is snug around him, sweet as honey, treating him right. Your hands clutch at your silverware, your napkin, anything you can get your hands on that isn’t him, and he knows you are well on your way to where he wants you because he can feel how your legs move back and forth, creating the friction you so desperately need between them.

He wonders if he can get away with touching you under the tablecloth, with sticking his hand into those wet panties of yours to play with your swollen and sensitive nub, but your skirt is too long and tight, and your jacket hides the waistband. No, he’s gonna have to be satisfied with eye-fucking you and jerking off this cola bottle.

Your chest starts to vibrate with tension as you try desperately to hold back the short little gasps emanating from your lips and he knows then that you are set to explode. You brace your elbows on the table, hiding the lower part of your face with your napkin, as if wiping your mouth, and he feels your hips buck. You do a helluva job not moaning and rolling your eyes back as you come for him, but he sees you drift somewhere else for a moment in your ecstasy, your eyes going blank as you pant as measured as you can into your napkin-shield.

Watching you unravel so gracefully and so untouched has his own orgasm sneaking up on him. The fact that he made you come just by looking at you but also at the element of public indecency involved has him clutching the cola bottle so hard he might break it. He wants to palm his dick with his other hand, but he knows he can’t be subtle about it and kind of likes the fact you’re making him come untouched, too.

Elvis manages to hold on until you come down from your high enough to look at him with dreamy, satiated eyes and that finally sends him over the edge. His cock pulses heavy and hard, springing against the confines of his slacks, his eyes drifting closed and lips parting as he shivers through his orgasm as quietly as he can. Holy fucking hell.

Your shy, knowing smile is the first thing he sees when he opens his eyes, and he can’t help but smile right back at you in kind. Your rosy cheeks and gleaming eyes make him feel giddy. His face feels red hot and he can’t help but bring the cold cola bottle to his face to cool it off. You choke back a laugh.

“You alright there, Sergeant Presley?” another soldier questions him.

“Ohhhh, I’m fine,” he drawls, amused, “Just feels like it’s a thousand degrees in here is all, in this getup.”

For once, he’s glad of his regulation briefs, as they kept him from shooting his load straight down his pant leg, but he doesn’t have to look down to know by the sheer force and amount of his release that he’s soaking through the front of his pants. His only consolation is that he knows you must be soaked through your panties, too.

If he can get his jacket on, he’ll be okay because it’s long and will cover the mess, but how he’s going to do so without the entire hall seeing he just jizzed his pants, he’s not so sure. It might not be a problem for the average Joe, but people can’t help but watch his every move, whether he wants them to or not. He realizes in his haze of horniness that maybe he didn’t really think this through.

You seem to realize his predicament, however, pretty eyes widening after looking down in his lap. You snap your head up quickly and he can sense your wheels turning. He starts to panic a little when you don’t let him in on the plan, though, as you start telling some story that he can’t seem to pay attention to with the sticky, rapidly cooling mess in his underwear.

Before he knows what’s happening, you are sweeping your arm to the side in a dramatic retelling, knocking the half-full bottle of cola over, directly into his lap.

He yelps in surprise as the dark cola soaks into his slacks, right over the other stain that had begun to set.

“Oh! Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry, Sergeant Presley!” you cry apologetically, quite convincingly, and in other circumstances, he might try to get you into the movies with your level of commitment as you place your napkin into his lap.

He chuckles, “Oh, it’s fine, darlin’, it’s just a little soda. After all, I was going on about how warm I was gettin’, so you cooled me right off.” He gives you a wink at his obvious double entendre, and you purse your lips to hold back a laugh.

“Well, I’m awfully embarrassed,” you say quietly, fully leaning into the role. “Please send me your dry cleaning bill. It’s the least I can do.” Pulling a little pad out of your clutch, you scribble something down on the paper, tear it off, fold it, and hand it to him.

“Oh, don’t you worry about that. It’s no big thing,” he says, but takes the paper anyway, sensing that you have written something other than your dry cleaner’s information on it. He motions for your pen and paper. “Can I?”

You nod and hand them over. In his chicken scratch handwriting, he scrawls a note:

If you ever find yourself in Memphis someday, honey, come to Graceland for a visit. Ask for ‘Sarge.’ I’d love to have ya.

Love, Sergeant Elvis Presley

He finishes by adding one of the numbers at Graceland and hands the pad back to her. Wishful thinking, but maybe someday, when it’s not a court-martialed offense, he’ll be able to show you the good time you deserve.

He excuses himself, then, sloshing in his soggy, ruined pants, waiting until he gets to the car to read your note.

Sergeant Presley,

One must watch out for those pesky cola bottles…Try vinegar and cold water for that stain…wouldn’t want it to set!  

Corporal Y/N  Y/L/N

He laughs heartily as the car pulls away.

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#Sergeant Presley (a one shot) #writing prompt game #couldn’t bring myself to do sad boi army!e so this is what you get! #you know i love me some army e #is it good? #not likely #but it’s something #elvis presley #elvis #if you’re looking for trouble #you came to the right place #elvis 2022 #elvis movie #elvis presley x reader #elvis x reader #austin butler elvis #elvis smut #elvis 1960 #army elvis #austin!elvis x reader #elvis fic #elvis fanfic

[femmefatalevibe]

Femme Fatale Guide: Productivity Tips To Help You Master Your Day Like A Queen

Anticipation is Key

Always have a plan with the tasks and timetable laid out

Keep your environment free of distractions (or at least out of reach)

Tackle tasks in bite-sized amounts to gain momentum

Restrict time spent to maximize productivity

Remember the big picture (and reward yourself!)

Always have a plan with the tasks and timetable laid out:

Plan out what you need to do, the deadline (or scheduled date/time), and set a date with yourself to complete the task. For work, always have a planner where you can plan out your week with your large/small projects.

Break large projects down into phases (ex. sections of a presentation, separate excel sheets, pages of a book, word count on an article, etc.). Divide these phases into sections that never take more than 1-2 hours. Only commit yourself to do one section at a time (if possible, only one per day). This allows you to have less anxiety about starting the task because you already have half of the work – the game plan – done for you.

With smaller tasks, divide them into important, urgent, and less important or urgent. Batch all of the urgent ones to clear your mind. Only commit to one important small task at a time (ex. an important email). Take a short break (get a glass of water, go to the bathroom, etc. ) in-between small important tasks to take the pressure off and your mind clear. Keep a running list of less important/urgent tasks. Schedule a time to batch these once a day/a couple of times a week as needed.

With chores or errands, make a schedule for when you will do these tasks to ensure you stick to your routine (ex. full-house vacuuming Tuesday and Saturday, laundry and grocery restock Sunday, deep kitchen clean Monday, big drugstore hauls Wednesday, etc.)

Keep your environment free of distractions (or at least out of reach):

Get in the zone. Keep your phone out of sight while working (unless you use your phone to work or you're on the phone for a work call, of course). Use a focus playlist (I love the EDM instrumental study playlist or any of the ADHD playlists by Jason Lewis - Mind Amend on Youtube. My favorite one is linked HERE). Have a glass of water (and coffee or tea if you choose), tissues, and lip balm in arm's reach, so you don't have to get up and break focus for these menial tasks. When cleaning or exercising, always have a curated playlist ready to go.

Tackle tasks in bite-sized amounts to gain momentum:

Use the two-minute rule. If you can do a task in 2 minutes or less, do it immediately – within a minute of thinking of it (or set a reminder for when you're home to do the task and then do it immediately. The 5-Second Rule and Atomic Habits explain why this works so well).

Only force yourself to do a task for 10 minutes. Stop after this allocated time if you can't stand doing it anymore, feel drained, or continuously lose focus. Your body and mind need rest if this happens. Usually, though, once you start writing, cleaning, reading, etc. for at least 10 minutes, you'll continue doing it for more time until at least 30-60 minutes of work is completed. Read Atomic Habits and The Artist's Way to learn more about this.

The Pomodoro Technique (working in 25-minute blocks with 5-minute breaks in-between) is great for clearing your inbox, organizing an Excel sheet, or completing any other repetitive, monotonous, or administrative tasks).

Restrict time spent to maximize productivity:

Focus and productivity are mental muscles. So, like in the gym, use time over tension. Set a timer for 10, 20, 30, or 60 minutes – depending on the task and your level of energy – and see how much focused, uninterrupted work you can do within this timeframe. This exercise can gamify otherwise boring, overwhelming, or tedious tasks and help them take less time overall. Rinse and repeat this practice like doing sets at the gym until you've completed the task or the amount of the project you decided to get done for the day.

Remember the big picture (and reward yourself!)

Always keep your goals top of mind. Revise them daily in the morning like a form of daily affirmations. Visualize yourself working to achieve this goal (sitting at the computer typing, cleaning, working out, etc.) with ease. Picture yourself in a calm state and that you're in a constant flow state. Visualize the moment of achievement. Relish in the feeling of satisfaction to prime yourself to start the task. Remind yourself that doing this one task gets you a bit closer to this bliss point. Make each goal into a source of emotional edging – each task will get you closer and closer to this euphoric state of contentment. This exercise primes you with some motivation and positive energy to get your head in the game.

Create habit loops – a cue to start the task (i.e. getting a glass of water to bring to the computer) and an unwinding task (aka the reward  – ex. going on your daily walk, taking a shower, etc.). Sometimes, I use different styles of music as a cue and a reward to create my habit loop (aka an upbeat pop playlist before starting work and a dance party mix after work). Read The Power of Habit to learn more about this practice.

Remind yourself that time passes anyway, so you might as well spend this time doing the task rather than worrying about it for hours. Plan a reward (calling a friend, making your favorite meal, going out for a walk or dinner) for when you're done. Having this event to look forward to will help motivate you to focus and work efficiently so you can fast-forward to your moments of leisure.

Claim and master your day, loves xx

#healthyhabits #productivity #femme fatale #it girl #high value woman #hypergamy #hypergamous #the feminine urge #dark femininity #dark feminine energy #divine feminine #high value mindset #success mindset #female excellence #ideal self #higher self #level up #glow up #that girl #gaslight gatekeep girlboss #life advice #adulting #femmefatale #femmefatalevibe

[amoebagrl]

catch me if you can, working on my tan (PREVIEW)

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ neighbor!ellie williams x fem reader

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ summary: ellie spends her first summer at her and her fathers new vacation house, and her first summer with a summer fling.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ a/n: hi! i hope u guys enjoy this lil preview of a fic im working on, so sorry it’s taking so long to write, i’m super busy. it should be done in a week or two :) per usual, join my taglist to be notified when i post the full thing & song used in title is slavatore by lana del rey! ♡

Ellie didn't know why Joel decided to purchase a beach home, but she was greatful for it.

Summers in Jackson were grueling. The hot, and sticky air definitely wasn't her favorite.

So when her adoptive father, Joel, had let her know that his offer the house had been accepted, Ellie was overjoyed.

In the weeks before summer break, she became more anxious and excited to spend her summer on the beach.

She wondered how different the beach town would be from her home, and what kind of kids her age would be there.

When the day finally came, Ellie was packed and ready, sitting at the table with her bags in hand, and suitcase by her feet.

"Woah there kiddo" Joel laughed as he entered the dining room. "What? I'm ready" *You sure are" he chuckled "Can we go yet?" the auburn-haired girl whined.

"Well if I knew you were fixin' to get going this early, would have finished packing" "Seriously?!" Ellie called out to the man as he walked away.

He entered the room with his luggage after, what Ellie claimed to be, hours.

They piled up into the beat up truck and began their twelve hour drive to Florida.

Joel insisted they only stopped for absolute necessities, but found himself stopping for snacks one too many times.

When they arrived, it was dark, around 10:00 at night. Ellie had fell asleep in the passenger seat around halfway in the trip, after claiming she ‘wasn't tired’ and it reminded Joel of when she was a kid.

"Ellie. Ellie. Cmon get up" Joel whispered, nudging the girl.

"Huh?" She asked, stirring "We're here. Come on, get inside" "What about all the bags?" "Well get it all in the morning" "Mhm" she groaned.

Unbuckling her seatbelt and walking inside, she barely took the time to look around, just heading straight for her bed, which was already made. She took a mental note to thank Joel in the morning before falling asleep.

Ellie woke up to the bright sunshine creeping in through the window. She slowly sat up and creeped out of her bedroom, looking for her father.

"Morning Ellie" Joel croaked out from the kitchen, turning around with a mug full of coffee.

"Goodmorning" Ellie yawned, rubbing her eyes.

"Ya sleep well?" The older man asks, sipping on the steaming cup. "Mhm. Thanks for making my bed and stuff." She smiled, truly greatful.

"No problem." He replied, grinning in return.

"Hey, why don't you go down the street and get us some of those...uh... 'a-kai' bowls?" He asked, reaching for his wallet. "I think it's açaí, but sure.

Let me get dressed" She nods, turning to go back upstairs to get dressed.

The auburn-haired girl emerges 20 minutes later in jeans and a t-shirt, tugging on her beat up converse.

"This good?" She looks up, unsure if the outfit is suitable for the hot weather.

"Jesus, Ellie. I said clothes for hot weather, it's

'bout ninety degrees!" "I'll be fine" She rolls her eyes, grabbing the $20 bill from Joels hands, before stepping outside.

"Shit." She gasps, fanning herself for a moment before grabbing her skateboard off the porch and stepping onto the sidewalk, heading off down the block for the small shop.

The bells over the front door chimed as Ellie stepped in the small, but nice, café.

"Welcome! What can I get started for 'ya?" You asked, looking up from the cash register to meet the customers gaze.

"Oh, um... Can I look over the menu and stuff?" Ellie asked, bringing her hand up to rub the back of her neck, a nervous tic she had.

"Of course" You smiled sweetly.

reblog to help support your fav writers! 🫧

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#amoebas fics🫧 #ellie x reader #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams fic #tlou x reader #the last of us #ellie williams x f!reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x fem reader

[bultaoreunheyyy]

It’s not a mountain, it’s a butte (1/2) 

Title: It’s not a mountain, it’s a butte (1/2)

Word Count: 5451

Summary: Jungkook loves hiking. He absolutely loves being in nature– even if nature does not love him back. And today, on a very rare occasion, all six of his best friends are joining him for a short hike that he’s been planning for months. It does not go quite as planned.

Sickie: Jungkook (snz, allergies, asthma) 

Caretakers: OT7

A/N: This got a bit long, so I split it into 3 chapters. I'll probably post the other chapters sometime next week. This first one is the main story and fulfills this request, but I couldn't resists adding on the aftermath of Jungkook's allergy/asthma attack and the aftercare and then the after after care of the next day too, lol. Also, this is completely unedited and likely full of typos and grammatical errors per usual.

Jungkook lowkey hates springtime. 

Overall, spring is actually his second favorite season because of the milder temperatures. His first favorite season by far is winter, because hot weather sucks and cold weather is where he belongs to his very core. 

Spring, however, usually means allergies. Lots and lots of allergies. Itchy, sniffly, sneezy allergies. Jungkook’s body unfortunately did not get the memo that other bodies get and so on top of allergies, he also has asthma, which of course is always the worst for him in the springtime. 

On this particular spring Saturday morning, he wakes up with puffy eyes and a stuffy nose. It’s pretty typical for this time of year, and he’s usually not so cheerful upon waking when he has to immediately sneeze before he even fully has his eyes open, but this morning he doesn’t give a shit because it’s hiking day.

Jungkook loves hiking. 

He absolutely loves being in nature– even if nature does not love him back. And today, on a very rare occasion, all six of his best friends are joining him for a short hike that he’s been planning for months. He’s very excited for hiking day.

With a mildly irritated sigh, Jungkook pulls the comforter completely over his head, sneezes six times in a row, and sniffs sharply to chase away the tickle that will be returning as soon as he lets his guard down and then remain in his sinuses for the rest of the day. 

When he resurfaces he finds two faces staring down at him. 

“Morning,” he says with a cheerful smile and a soft sniffle.

“Good morning, and bless you!” Jimin responds. 

“Good morning!” Taehyung says. “We thought we would have to wake you up.”

“Nope!” Jungkook replies. He cups a hand over his mouth and nose and sneezes once more, his whole body shaking. “I’m up. It’s hiking day!” He pauses, hand still over his lower face, anticipating another sneeze that never comes. After a minute he shakes his head and scrubs hard at his nose with a sleepy, irritated groan.

Both Jimin and Taehyung, looking more than half-asleep themselves, lean down at the same time– Jimin on his left and Taehyung on his right– to pat him on the chest sympathetically. 

“Don’t forget to take your allergy pill,” Jimin reminds him. “Did you pack your inhaler last night?” 

Jungkook glances towards his nightstand where his inhaler is. “Yep.”

Taehyung pokes him in the belly. “Well, get up, then. You made us all wake up at the asscrack of dawn so this better be worth it. Let’s go hike your mountain.” 

“It’s a butte,” Jungkook corrects him, but Taehyung is already leaving the room, yawning so widely his jaw cracks. 

“I need coffee,” Jimin says, also yawning, and he trails behind Taehyung. 

Despite his excitement, Jungkook is the last to be ready, and when he gets to the living room everyone else is lounging about.

“Let’s go!” He practically shouts, urging them all out the door. “It’s hiking day!” 

“Does the whole street have to know?” Yoongi grumbles, making a face as Jungkook pushes a set of keys into his palm. Even though he’s making a show of being grumpy, he’s the only one Jungkook trusts besides himself to drive at such an early hour. 

The seven of them take two cars to the trail, arriving before the sun rises. There’s a slight chill to the morning air, but the skies are clear and it’s already the start of a beautiful day weather wise. 

Jungkook gets out of the car and reaches his arms up high above his head, leaning to one side and then the other and moaning loudly at the stretch. He’s wearing tight black spandex shorts and a black hoodie that’s halfway to being a crop top, and Taehyung pokes at his exposed stomach with a smirk.

“We might see some deer if we’re quiet enough,” Jungkook announces, ignoring Taehyung. He pulls a camera from his backpack and hangs the strap around his neck. After he shoulders his backpack, he turns towards the trailhead. “Ahhh,” he says with a noisy exhale that he follows with a long, deep breath in through his nose. “Smell that? That’s the beautiful smell of nature.”

He sneezes immediately afterwards.

“Bless you,” Hoseok and Namjoon say in unison.

“Did you take your allergy pill?” Yoongi asks.

“I take it every morning,” Jungkook responds. “Did you take your brain pill?”

Yoongi flips him off and mimics, “I take it every morning.”

“Only because I have to remind you,” Seokjin mutters under his breath.

Taehyung yawns and plasters himself against Jimin’s back, snaking his arms around his waist and tucking his hands into Jimin’s hoodie pocket. “I can only smell Jimin’s coffee breath.”

Jimin, still half asleep, only pouts.

Jungkook sneezes, again.

“Bless you,” Hoseok and Namjoon say in unison, again.

“Doesn’t seem like you took your allergy pill,” Yoongi grumbles. “At least tell me you brought your inhaler.”  

Ignoring him, Jungkook bends down to check that his black hiking boots are laced up properly. He adjusts his backpack, stretches his calves for all of ten seconds, and straightens his posture. 

“Let’s hike this butte,” he says cheerfully, and then he takes off at a light jog, disappearing down the trail and leaving them all behind. 

When they catch up to him, Jungkook has his camera raised to his face and he’s squatting by the base of a pine tree, looking at the ground. 

“What are you taking a picture of?” Taehyung wonders. “A worm?”

“Caterpillar,” Jungkook murmurs. “See? Right there.” 

Taehyung pats him on the shoulder in a way that indicates that he does not in fact see the caterpillar. “It’s a very nice caterpillar,” he says anyway.  

The hike Jungkook has chosen isn’t too long nor too strenuous of a hike– only 7 kilometers or so of a well established trail– and they get a beautiful view of the sun rising when they start their hike in earnest, climbing up the east side of the butte. 

Although he’d started off at a fast pace, Jungkook isn’t feeling particularly competitive today, and because he has his camera he chooses to take his time watching wildlife and taking pictures of every bird and plant he sees along the way.

Namjoon leads the group instead, long legs carrying him far very quickly. Jimin has the shortest stride but he’s the second most competitive of the group behind Jungkook, and so he falls into pace right next to Namjoon. Taehyung, Yoongi and Hoseok stay in the middle of the pack, their pace a bit more average. 

Seokjin falls back and keeps Jungkook company in the rear. He watches fondly as Jungkook gushes over the beauty in nature and patiently listens when Jungkook explains the different species of birds they see on the trail. 

“Do you think we’ll see any deer?” Jungkook asks Seokjin, scanning the hillside hopefully. 

“Maybe,” Seokjin replies. “Are there usually deer on this mountain?”

“It’s not a mountain,” Jungkook whispers as a curious chipmunk peeks out at them from behind a fern. “It’s a butte.” 

Jungkook and Seokjin continue up the steepest part of the path until it evens out in elevation, stopping every so often so Jungkook can take his pictures, and they’re the last to reach the summit. There’s a small lookout with a view of the surrounding mountains and the other five are all crammed onto the one single bench there, eating snacks.

“Look,” Hoseok says around a mouthful of trail mix. He points at the ground where Jungkook and Seokjin are standing. “There’s a compass on the ground. It shows what mountains are in the distance, too.” 

Jungkook already knows this. He’s been up hiking here before. He’s about to look down at it when Seokjin covers his eyes from behind.

“Guess which way is north?” he says, chuckling in Jungkook’s ear.

“Fuck off,” he says, shrugging Seokjin off, because he’s shit at directions and has absolutely no idea which direction north is. 

Hoseok and Jimin nearly fall off the bench from laughing so hard.

Jungkook flips them off and then walks to the lookout point, cheeks flushed in sudden embarrassment. He lifts his camera to hide his face and marvels at the beautiful early morning view. He can hear Seokjin join the others on the bench– if Yoongi’s complaints of getting squished are anything to go off– and he can’t stay mad for long when he hears their chatter and joyful laughter.

He turns and snaps a picture just as Seokjin is shoving a massive handful of trail mix into his mouth.

“That’s hot,” he smirks, and this time Seokjin is flipping him off. 

They stay up at the summit for about fifteen minutes before Jungkook is itching to get moving again. He takes a long drink from his water bottle and shoves it back into his backpack. Even though it’s still a bit chilly, he peels off his hoodie and ties it around his waist, snaps one more picture of the group sitting on the bench, and then starts the descent knowing they’ll all follow quickly once they realize he’s leaving. 

Jungkook smiles when he remembers there’s a meadow just on the other side, full of beautiful wildflowers that he can’t wait to photograph. Sure enough, he doesn’t have to go very far down the trail before he spots the colorful field ahead of him. 

“Hey,” Seokjin says, catching up to him. “Wait up!”

“Fuck off,” Jungkook mumbles, but there’s no real heat behind it. 

He hears Seokjin’s pace quicken behind him and slows down a little. His eyes are starting to itch and he scrunches up his face, trying not to rub at them. His nose is starting to itch, too. 

Seokjin peers at Jungkook, taking in the irritation he can see on his face. “Oh, come on,” he says. “I was just teasing about the direction thing. Don’t be grumpy with me.”

“I’m not grumpy.” Jungkook gives in and digs his fist into his eye. 

“Okay,” Seokjin says, sounding unconvinced.  

Jungkook rubs at his nose, and then sniffles, and then nearly stumbles a step when his nose prickles sharply, bringing a few tears to his eyes.

And then he sneezes.

It’s not just any sneeze. It’s harsh, quick and forceful and so itchy sounding that Seokjin winces.

“Oh, shit,” he murmurs. “You okay?”

Jungkook doesn’t respond. He’s bent at the waist, sneezing again. The irritation makes him cough afterward, and he feels Seokjin’s hand on his upper arm, like he’s getting ready to steady him if needed. 

When he straightens, his eyes and nose are streaming and his eyes are still itchy as fuck.

“You okay?” Seokjin repeats. He’s biting his lower lip.

Jungkook rubs at his eyes with his fists. “Yep. I’m fine.”

At this point, the others have caught up to them. 

“Was that Jungkook sneezing?” Jimin asks, pulling a small packet of tissues from his pocket of his sweatpants. “Here.” 

Jungkook accepts the tissues, but he doesn’t have time to get one out before he has to sneeze again, another harsh expulsion that has him bending at the waist. 

Jimin rolls his eyes in amusement and takes the unused tissue pack back, opening the plastic and pulling several tissues out before passing them to Jungkook. They all know by the sound that it’s not just a regular sneeze– it’s very clearly the start of an allergy attack. Jungkook thinks about how often they all like to comment on his sneezing, which apparently sounds different depending on what’s making him sneeze. To him, it all just sounds like sneezing. Instead of going off the sound, he goes off the feeling, and the current feeling is an unbearably itchy allergy attack that’s going to have him sneezing his head off for the rest of the hike, probably. 

Fuck springtime. 

While Jungkook blows his nose, Yoongi digs through his backpack and locates Jungkook’s epi pen, extra inhaler, allergy medication and more tissues.

“Holy shit, Yoongi,” Jungkook laughs. He scrubs the wad of tissues in his hand under his nose back and forth several times until the undersides of his nostrils are bright pink. “I actually did my meds this morning.” 

“When are you due for more?”

“I’m fine.” Jungkook says instead of answering. He tucks the used tissues into his pocket. “I can breathe. I’m just a little itchy.” 

Hoseok watches him rubbing his eyes again with a frown. “Yeah, we can see that. Quit rubbing your face.”

Jungkook sneezes again and does not quit rubbing his face. 

Namjoon sighs and pats his shoulder. “Why did you plan your hike by all these flowers?” He asks, gesturing at the meadow. “There are so many. Damn.” 

Jungkook starts to answer, but he’s hit with another sharp prickle in his sinuses. He holds up a finger, sucks in a massive breath, and then sneezes loudly four times in a row.

“Uh, pretty sure you just scared all the deer away,” Seokjin teases, smiling a little before going back to chewing on his bottom lip.

Jimin pulls more tissues out of the pack and hands them to Jungkook. “Bless you!” 

“Jimin, you’re a lifesaver with these tissues,” Jungkook says with a sniffle. His nose is drippy now and he can feel the next sneeze approaching fast. “C’mon, let’s start heading back to the car. There might be deer closer to the trailhead.” 

“Wait! Don’t you want to take a moment and–”

Whatever Yoongi’s saying, Jungkook doesn’t catch the end of it. He’s scanning the meadow for deer and wondering how close he can get to the pretty wildflowers without throwing himself into an asthma attack on top of everything. He might already be heading for an asthma attack, with the way his chest is starting to feel, but they’re already halfway through the short hike and he has his own inhaler in his backpack in addition to the one Yoongi apparently thought to bring along. 

In the end, he decides to take pictures of the flowers as he walks and doesn’t stray from the trail even an inch. Namjoon and Seokjin take the lead once they catch up, but they don’t let themselves get too far ahead, and Jungkook notices them glancing back over their shoulders every time he sneezes. 

Jimin, his sweet angel of a friend, sticks close and keeps handing him tissues. Hoseok blesses him from behind so frequently that eventually, Jungkook stops and turns around.

“Seok,” he says, and wow he sounds like shit. He clears his throat and holds up a tissue. “You don’t have to say bless you every single time.”

Hoseok blushes. “Sorry. It’s just a habit.”

Jungkook rips the tissue in half and shoves one half up his right nostril, then the other half up his left. “There,” he says, sounding even more stuffed-up and ridiculous. “This will hold off the sneezing for a bit.”

Yoongi raises an eyebrow skeptically but doesn’t say anything. 

“That’s…kind of gross, but okay,” Jimin tells him. He stays close by with tissues at the ready anyway.

They all start walking again. The tissue stuffed up his nose does keep the sneezing at bay, but only for about ten minutes. In that time, they descend past the meadow and get back to the treeline, where Jungkook spots a woodpecker and spends a good few minutes photographing it.

“That’s a nice bird,” Taehyung says, reaching up to thread his fingers through the hair at Jungkook’s nape. “You sure you can breathe okay like that?”

Jungkook sniffs hard in response, which turns out to be a mistake since there’s still a half a tissue stuffed up each of his nostrils. The intake of air pulls the tissues further up his nose and sets off an intense tickle that makes him snort and then cough. 

It’s not his smartest moment.

He reaches up and tugs the pieces of tissue out of his nose, and he’s pretty sure Jimin gags next to him at the sight, but he doesn’t really hear him because doing so only makes the tickle so, so much worse. He finds himself suddenly trapped in between sneezing and not sneezing, his lungs forcing him to suck in air and his nose twitching in irritation but not quite completing the job. It’s torturous and it lasts for what feels like hours, but in reality is probably only twelve seconds before he hears the crinkle of plastic next to his ear.

“Try blowing your nose,” Jimin suggests, and Jungkook forces his eyes open so he can see. He takes the tissue that Jimin’s offering and cups it over his nose.

“Jungkook,” he hears Jimin say after a moment. “You gotta try blowing your nose. Or sneeze, or something.” 

He’s vaguely aware that he’s still standing there in sneezy limbo, mouth wide open and nostrils flaring, but he can’t do anything because his sinuses are on fire and his breath keeps catching with nowhere to go and the tickle is spreading to the back of his throat and he’s still not sneezing. 

He feels something swipe beneath his eyes to catch the irritated tears– Jimin’s fingers– and then a hand covers his hand around the tissue and squeezes lightly.

As soon as the air is cut off to his nostrils, Jungkook sighs in relief, the tension draining from his body, and as soon as Jimin lets go of his hand, he sneezes explosively.

“Bless you!” Hoseok chirps.

“Bless you,” Jimin says. He passes another tissue over.

“Fuck, shit,” Jungkook grunts out, coughing a few times.

Taehyung squeezes the back of his neck. 

Hoseok and Yoongi are looking at each other, communicating silently with each other in their own secret language that only they speak, but that Jungkook can understand perfectly– they’re debating whether or not to ask him if he wants to take his inhaler. Jungkook can tell by the way they’re staring into each other's eyes and frowning, and also by the way that Yoongi is cradling Jungkook’s inhaler in his palm.

“So, that sucked,” Jungkook croaks out. He coughs a few more times. “Please never let me put tissues up my nose again.” 

“Gladly,” Jimin responds with a grimace.

“Let’s go,” Jungkook says, rubbing his eyes as he starts walking down the trail again. “I don’t want Joon and Seokjin to see a deer without me.” 

“That would be tragic,” Taehyung agrees, following behind. 

Jungkook’s sinuses and lungs are starting to ache, and his eyes are so itchy he can’t keep himself from rubbing at them every minute or so, but he’s still in good spirits as they take a switchback and finally get the final, glorious view for the last part of their hike. 

Jungkook lifts his camera and snaps about ten pictures. He uses his viewfinder to spot Namjoon and Seokjin below, not too far ahead of them on the trail, and takes a picture of them too. 

Taehyung, Jimin, Hoseok and Yoongi stop behind him as he takes pictures and drink from their water bottles. 

“Why does going downhill hurt my knees so much?” Yoongi complains.

“It’s because you’re old,” Taehyung retorts. 

Hoseok and Jimin fall into each other with laughter, and Jungkook shushes them. “Shh, you’ll scare the deer away!” 

It doesn’t matter how loud they’re laughing, though, because in the next moment a tickle flares in Jungkook’s sinuses and he has to sneeze. The sneeze rings out through the air, and it’s followed by a second sneeze, and then a third, the itch spreading again in a way that only his allergies can do. He reaches up and scrubs hard at his nose, but it does nothing to stop the tickle nor the resulting sneezes, one right after the other without much of a chance to breathe in between. 

“Bless you,” Hoseok says after about seven or eight sneezes.

Jungkook shakes his head, swipes the back of his hand over his streaming eyes, and then cups both hands over his mouth and nose and keeps on sneezing. He sneezes so many times in a row that he grows dizzy, head spinning when he tries to open his eyes. He instinctively reaches out and grabs on to the thing nearest to him, which happens to be Jimin’s arm.

“Woah, Kook–? What’s wrong?” 

Jungkook can only dig his fingers into Jimin’s arm as another fit of sneezes takes him over. 

“Sit down for a sec,” Hoseok says in his ear, helping to guide him to the ground as he sniffles and blinks against the spots in his vision. 

Once he’s sitting on the ground, he feels Jimin take his hand, press a handful of tissues against his palm, and then help lift his arm back up to his face. 

“Blow,” he says, waiting until Jungkook gets the tissues to his nose before he reaches over and slides Jungkook’s backpack off his shoulders for him.

Jungkook sneezes into his wad of tissues. And sneezes some more. And then sneezes about ten more times for good measure, and not a single sneeze does anything to relieve the maddening tickle in the back of his nose and throat. He pauses to suck in a greedy breath of air, cough harshly, and then sneezes twice more before he can finally stop. The tissues in his hand are soaked through and are practically useless by the time he tries to blow his nose, but he does it anyway, snorting air out of his nostrils forcefully and shuddering at the awful, raw feeling he always has post sneezing fit.    

“Bless you!” Jimin and Hoseok exclaim at the same time as soon as it’s apparent that Jungkook is done sneezing for the time being. 

Seokjin and Namjoon are squatting down in front of him.

“You’re both going to get permanent wrinkles from frowning so hard,” Jungkook tells them. His voice is nearly gone. 

Seokjin heaves a deep sigh and stands up. He offers a hand out to Jungkook, helping him up off the ground. Jungkook hops up and brushes the dirt off his ass, then turns to Jimin.

“Please tell me there are more tissues.” 

Jimin holds up another unopened pack of tissues. “So many more tissues. Take all you need.” 

Jungkook grabs his backpack from the ground and opens the front pocket so he can shove all the used tissues inside, emptying out his pockets as well. He finishes off the rest of his water, shoulders his backpack, and gratefully takes the pack of tissues from Jimin.

“Need your inhaler before we keep going?” Yoongi asks. He cups a hand under Jungkook’s chin and gently tilts his head back, eyes narrowed as he inspects the puffiness around his eyes and nose.

“Your nose is so red,” Taehyung comments, poking the tip of Jungkook’s nose with a grin. 

Jungkook squirms under their gaze.

“I’m fine,” he says hoarsely.

Taehyung reaches over and pulls the collar of Jungkook’s t-shirt from his neck. 

“I’m not going to get a rash!” He nudges Taehyung’s hand away just in time to get his own hand up to his face, sneezing against the back of his wrist once. “I’m really fine,” he tries to reassure everyone, even as his breath hitches in preparation for yet another sneeze. “Honestly, I’m just really sneezy right now.” 

“You’re sneezier than I’ve ever seen you before,” Seokjin agrees. 

“I hope I didn’t scare all the deer away,” Jungkook pouts. 

Hoseok hooks his arm through Jungkook’s and gives him an optimistic smile. “If you did, we’ll just come back some other time.” 

They start walking again, this time sticking together as a group. Jungkook carries his own tissues this time, though his sneezes have gotten smaller and stuffier and he stops trying to cover them up after a while. Soon, he’ll be too stuffed up to sneeze properly and it will hurt– he can already feel his sinuses throbbing. 

He has to stop walking again not five minutes later, annoyed about having to pause every three steps to sneeze. Despite the increase in frequency of sneezes, he’s getting very little relief from sneezing so much– his whole face just feels too itchy and he knows it’s only going to keep growing worse until he can get back home and shower. After a fit of sneezes that lasts too long for him to count, making him have to stop on the trail for a good several minutes, he turns to Yoongi.

“You happen to have eye drops in that bag?” 

Yoongi does in fact have eye drops, and Jungkook takes the bottle as fast as he can because Yoongi looks like he’s a second away from putting them in Jungkook’s eyes himself. After, he unzips his own backpack and pulls out his inhaler to take a hit.

“Preventative measure,” he croaks out before Yoongi can say anything. 

Suddenly, Taehyung gasps and they all startle. 

“What?” Hoseok squeaks.

Taeyhung is pointing just over Jungkook’s shoulder. “Kook, look at that butterfly!” 

Jungkook turns and looks to where Taehyung is pointing, a grin spreading over his entire face when he sees one of the biggest monarch butterflies he’s even seen before, fluttering so close he could probably reach out and touch it. He lifts his camera, snaps a couple of pictures, and then turns to Taehyung.

“Good spot!” 

Taehyung puffs up his chest, proud of himself. 

Jungkook’s nose twitches. His smile fades, his breath hitching erratically. “Fuck,” he pants out breathlessly before sneezing harshly. When he looks up, six mouths are frowning at him. “Sorry,” he rasps, suddenly feeling upset. “I don’t…” He trails off, unsure of what to say, but Yoongi immediately grabs his hand. 

“No apologizing,” he says firmly. “Let’s get you back to the car, hm? Do you want Namjoon to give you a piggyback ride?”

“Hey!” Namjoon protests halfheartedly. “I didn’t agree to that.” 

“I would take up that offer in a second if there wasn’t the risk of me sneezing in your hair the whole way back,” Jungkook chuckles. 

“I appreciate that,” Namjoon says with a grin. 

As soon as the parking lot is in view, Jungkook launches into another seemingly endless sneezing fit.

He stifles each sneeze into his hand, trying to hold them back as best as he can so they can make it back to the cars. It’s a difficult feat– his sneezes, especially his allergy sneezes, are strong and not at all easy to contain– but it makes it so he can keep walking and sneeze at the same time. One of the downsides, however, is that as soon as he starts stifling, he also starts to wheeze slightly, and it only takes a couple of minutes for everyone else to hear it.

“No, no,” Yoongi scolds when he realizes what Jungkook is doing. “Do not hold them back like that. Shit, Kookie, what are you thinking?” Then, a little softer, he adds knowingly, “Really, just let them out, baby. We’ll help you get back to the car.” 

Jungkook raises an eyebrow at the pet name, but doesn’t say anything. 

He feels Namjoon cup the back of his neck. “We’re almost there, Koo.”

Jungkook slows his pace just a little. Now his friends are breaking out the pet names and the gentle touches, which means they are officially worried about him and they’re going to be openly babying him like they’ve been wanting to this entire time. 

Not that he cares, in this moment, because now that he’s not allowed to hold back his sneezing, he has to fully stop walking every time he sneezes. 

One step. A harsh, ticklish sneeze that sucks the energy out of him and makes his eyes water. And before he’s taking the next step, he’s already building up to the next sneeze, sucking a trembling breath in, in, in– before he explodes. And then it repeats. 

Jungkook feels a soft grip on his upper arm. Jimin is on his right and Hoseok is on his left, and at first they’re just trying to gently guide him along, but he’s sneezing so helplessly that eventually they each hook and arm through his elbows, and start nudging him a little more firmly down the trail. He trusts them to get him back to the car and not let him trip. 

“Here, love,” Jimin says, holding a tissue to his nose for him. 

Another pet name. Jungkook feels his face heat up. His nose is running profusely, though, so he doesn’t really have room to refuse the help. 

“Don’t know why I can’t stop sneezing,” he mumbles congestedly, his breath rushing out in a wheezy exhale before he promptly sneezes again. 

Jimin and Hoseok guide him to a bench near the trailhead to sit down, even though they can literally see their cars from the spot. Jungkook slumps against whoever is sitting next to him– Hoseok, he’s pretty sure, and closes his eyes tiredly. 

“Poor thing,” Taehyung murmurs. “You sound so miserable and itchy.” 

“Should we try to let him ride out the sneezing first?” He hears Seokjin say. “It seems like it’s slowing down, right?”

Namjoon voices his agreement and Jungkook hopes he’s right, because he honestly can’t tell at this point. 

Yoongi keeps a hand on his back, rubbing lightly between his shoulder blades, standing behind the bench. Jimin sits to his right and holds tissues for him, which would embarrass Jungkook on most days, but in this moment he tolerates simply because he’s so fucking itchy and he can hardly see past the irritated tears that won’t quit– not to mention the fact that his nose is a drippy faucet now. 

Hoseok sits to his left and keeps a grounding hand on his thigh, allowing Jungkook to lean on him. The others hover and give him sips of water every so often, petting his hair and squeezing his shoulders, offering encouragement after every sneeze. 

Jungkook does eventually slow down on the sneezing, enough that he can actually tell he’s slowing down, but as the sneezing dies down a growing sense of irritation and embarrassment replace it. 

He also might be the tiniest bit grumpy, because hiking day did not go as he planned at all.

Fuck springtime. 

He huffs out a wheezy breath. “Sorry I ruined the hike,” he rasps, crossing his arms and frowning. 

Yoongi holds his inhaler out. “What did I say about apologizing?” 

Jungkook snatches the tissues that Jimin is holding and pulls several out of the pack, pressing the bundle to his nose. He stifles a tired sneeze, coughs, and then closes his eyes. “Well. I’m still sorry.” 

“Come here, baby,” Hoseok says, wrapping his arm around Jungkook’s shoulder, and Jungkook lets himself be tugged against his chest. 

He feels tears welling up in his eyes and keeps them squeezed shut, not willing to let them fall. He jams the tissues under his nose, stifles two more sneezes, and then pinches his nose shut so no more can escape. 

Jungkook, not at all pouting and definitely not crying, rests his head on Hoseok’s chest and only his stuffy breathing fills the still-early morning air. For a moment, they’re all quiet, listening to Jungkook breathe. As soon as he feels like he has his tears under control, Jungkook squints one eye open, glancing between everyone to get a read on their expressions, and feeling relief when he doesn’t see any disappointment on any of their faces. He blinks a few times to clear any remaining tears, looks towards the parking lot to determine how much farther they have left to go, and then freezes.  

Suddenly, Jungkook snorts, which results in a soft sneeze, and then full-on giggles, because he absolutely cannot believe his eyes.

“What?” Namjoon asks, whipping his head around to look at Jungkook.

“Are you laughing?”

“Kookie, baby, are you okay?” 

They follow his finger when he points away from them and see a deer in the distance, standing so still it looks fake, staring directly at them.

“See? I didn’t scare all the deer away,” he croaks out.

“The fuck, Jungkook?” Seokjin yells. “Don’t joke about deer at a time like this!”

Jungkook stands and coughs hoarsely into his fist. The deer is still unmoving despite Seokjin’s loud voice, but he wants to get a picture of it before it runs away. He raises his camera, snaps a picture, and then lets his camera fall back against his chest just in time to cup both hands over his mouth and nose and sneeze mightily. 

The deer bolts. Jungkook swipes his wrist under his nose and turns to Seokjin. 

“At a time like what?” 

With that, Jungkook turns and strolls back toward the cars, leaving his friends in stunned silence behind him.

Read Chapter 2 HERE

#chaptered fic #bts sickfic #sickfic #bts snz #sick jungkook #allergic jungkook #allergy fic #asthma fic #jungkook snz #bts hurt/comfort #hurt/comfort #caretaker seokjin #caretaker yoongi #caretaker jimin #caretaker taehyung #caretaker namjoon #caretaker hoseok

[mia-tiny]

Unexpected Company Part Four | P. Seonghwa

⇒ pairing: p. seonghwa x fem!reader

⇒ smut, angst, mentions of past cheating, mentions of drinking, drunk psh, oral (both receiving), fingering, unprotected sex (big no no), cumming inside

⇒ word count: 8.1k

💖 read part one here, part two here, and part three here

💕 view my masterlist here

🖤 view my Kinktober ‘22 masterlist here

⇒ author’s note: When I first started this series as the first thing I wrote on Tumblr, I honestly didn’t expect to make a full story out of it, so trying to wrap up all the loose ends was so hard. Hence why it has been more than a year between part one and this final part. Thank you to everyone who has enjoyed Unexpected Company and waited patiently for this release!

This week has been the week from hell. Besides it starting with Seonghwa seducing you and then sneaking out before you wake, you’ve had to also deal with Wooyoung’s incessant meddling that started the moment he found out about your affair with his roommate. He has been trying relentlessly to convince you to talk to Seonghwa, but you feel it’s very clear that the man in question has absolutely no intention of speaking with you unless it is to get in your pants. You can’t even complain to Wooyoung about the situation and how upset you’ve been, either, since there is a high chance he will willingly share the information with his roommate and make the circumstances even worse. 

After Seonghwa ditched you in the morning five days ago, you spent the day moping and pitying yourself before deciding you are done letting him play you like a fiddle. You officially swore to yourself to stay away from him and all the trouble he brings along, so you’ve made no attempt to contact him.

Seonghwa hasn’t contacted you either since Sunday evening and you hate that it disappoints you so much. You wish you could care as little as you pretend to, but you can’t help secretly hoping he will message you and explain everything. After five days of radio silence, however, you realize that the chance of that happening is slim to none. At this point, you just want to be done with the situation and move on with your life.

After such a shitty week, you are thankful to be spending your Friday evening just melting into your couch and watching some mind-numbing television. Of course, Wooyoung had invited you to party tonight, thinking it would be the perfect thing to get your mind off Seonghwa, but being around all that chaos sounded like the very last thing you wanted. You also know Wooyoung too well to believe he wouldn’t spend the whole time meddling, so you quickly rejected the invite in favor of being a couch potato. He has tons of friends he goes out with anyway, so he likely just found someone else to get wasted with.

By one in the morning, you now having become one with the sofa, your eyes begin drooping heavily as your exhaustion finally sets in. Figuring it is about time you go to bed, you force your sluggish body to move for the first time in hours, groaning dramatically as you stretch out your stiff muscles. It doesn’t take long for you to get ready to sleep, and you are soon sinking into your freshly washed sheets, the lavender scent lulling you into a state of relaxation as your worries leave your mind.

This tranquility lasts for all of two minutes before you are jumping at the sound of heavy banging on your apartment door. The sudden noise has your heart skipping a few beats as you listen to the lethargic but resounding beating that beckons you. Confused, you quickly check your phone to see if Wooyoung said he is coming over, but you have no new notifications.

The sound continues, so you cautiously slip out of bed and gently tip toe closer to the source as if they’d be able to hear you over the racket they are making. On your way, you grab an empty vase to use as a weapon just in case the person hammering on your door at this hour isn’t a welcome guest.

Your heart races at a mile per minute as you inch closer, the relentless thumping never letting up despite how lethargic it is. Gathering your courage, you unlock the deadbolt and grip the knob in your hand, taking one steadying breath before flinging the door open to reveal the visitor.

You yelp in surprise as the person, who was about to bang his fist on the entrance once again, flies forward into your arms listlessly. In your effort to catch them, you drop the glass vase that subsequently shatters at your feet. The weight of the man’s lifeless body has you staggering back as you attempt to hold him up despite his uncoordinated movements.

The glimpse you had of his quaffed silver hair, along with the smell of his expensive cologne that now overtakes you, alerts you to the fact that this is exactly the person you don’t want to see.

“Y/N,” he slurs in absolute delirium as he tries his best to stand on his own.

Great. He is also wasted.

“Seonghwa,” you grunt in annoyance as you try your best to help him in his awkward movements. “Stand up.”

“Y/N,” he just calls in response, much softer this time, as he finally finds his footing and is able to hold at least some of his weight, though still relying on you to keep him steady.

You carefully reach around him to push the door closed, making sure to avoid the broken glass scattered across the floor in the process. As you move closer to him, he drunkenly assumes you are going in for a hug and wraps his strong arms around you, pulling you flat against his heated chest as he rests his chin on your head and sighs.

“Seonghwa, let go,” you whine as you pull out of his grasp, only able to do so because of his concerningly inebriated state. “Come here.”

Despite your overwhelming irritation, you carefully guide him to the couch where he plops down with a large huff. His eyes are only half open and his head keeps drooping lazily to the side, but he somehow still looks exceedingly handsome in his all-black clubbing attire. He smiles languidly up at you and you snap out of your daze, annoyance again overtaking you.

Why the fuck is Seonghwa stumbling into your apartment drunk at this hour after not contacting you all week? As if he has ever sought you out for anything other than sex. And if that is truly what he came here for, then he is going to be sorely disappointed.

If he is here for another reason, though…

No.

Stop.

You can’t start letting your hopes up just to be burned again by his casual seduction and aloof attitude. You are going to make Wooyoung come pick him up and then sink back into your comfy bed without having to worry about this jerk.

With a bothered huff, you march off to take care of the broken vase before one of you ends up hurting yourselves on it, but Seonghwa whines childishly as you leave.

“Y/N, where are you going?”

“I need to clean up your mess,” you sneer with a roll of your eyes while deftly collecting each shard of glass for disposal. “Why are you even here, Seonghwa?”

He chuckles giddily, courtesy of the alcohol in his system, and lets out an obnoxious hiccup.

“Because you’re here,” he slurs as if that clears things up, and you scoff.

“And what makes you think I’d want to see you?” you retort as you finish tidying, shooting him a look of disbelief to get your point across.

The smile he just had drops into a frown immediately and he stares into the distance as if pondering your question. After a minute of silence, you assume he’s lost track of the conversation entirely and stomp off to your bedroom to collect your phone. You come back and take a seat a couple feet away from him, but he plops himself down so that his head rests in your lap.

“Seonghwa,” you gripe as you try to squirm out from under him, but he grumbles out a melodramatic whine that convinces you to let him be for now.

Ignoring the slight fluttering in your heart, you dial Wooyoung’s number and wait patiently while the line rings… and rings… and rings… until finally sending you to voicemail. Frustration bubbles in your veins as you call him three more times, never getting an answer. Now what the fuck do you do?

While you debate your options, Seonghwa stirs beneath you as he drags his legs up onto the sofa.

“Y/N,” he whines softly, sounding like a pouting child as he turns to lay on his back. His bloodshot eyes gaze directly up at you and you feel a pang of sadness as you take in his expression. “Do you hate me?”

His voice sounds thick, as if he is fighting off drunken tears, and you notice the way the edges of his lips tilt downwards. You don’t know what could possibly be going on in his mind, but seeing him like this forces your fiery attitude to soften. You’ve spent all week despising him, but it is difficult to feel the same level of hatred as you gaze at his innocent flushed cheeks and puffy eyes.

You don’t know how to answer his question. Up until this moment you fully believed that you hate him, but now you realize your emotions aren’t that simple after all. Even if you were sure, it’s not like telling him that would do either of you any good right now.

You decide it is probably best to just avoid the question altogether.

“You can sleep on the couch tonight, but you’d better not do this again,” you reprimand, trying to change the subject as you accept the fact that he isn’t going anywhere tonight. “The bathroom is over there if you need it.”

You begin to slide out from under him, but he reaches up and grabs your wrist to silently beg you to stay. You know it’s dangerous to look down at him, but you can’t avoid it. You gaze into his watering eyes and don’t resist when he brings your palm to cup his cheek, as if he needs the comfort despite it being forced. His skin is burning hot against your palm.

“I’m sorry I’m so selfish,” he murmurs softly as his eyelids grow heavier and he fights against their instinct to close. “I wish I could be better for you.”

Following his mysterious words, his eyes finally shut, a couple tears being pressed out in the process. His breathing settles into a steady rhythm as he falls asleep, his grip on your hand releasing when his arm plops down at his side.

You simply continue to stare at him, your mind in utter chaos as you process everything. He looks so peaceful as he rests despite the couple tear stains left on his skin. Your thumb gently wipes the nearest one away as you continue to cup his cheek much longer than necessary.

This is the first time you have ever seen a crack in Seonghwa’s aloof exterior, the one that is confident and seductive without showing a single ounce of vulnerability. He’d honestly maintained it so well that you’d begun to view him as a bit cold-hearted, but now you realize how much more there must be hidden behind the mask.

More than anything, you can’t shake the image of his desperately forlorn expression as he uttered his last line.

I’m sorry I’m so selfish. I wish I could be better for you.

His voice was clearly laced with regret as he admitted this, but why is he suddenly apologizing to you late at night after showing up wasted? Especially when he has never shown any sign of uneasiness or remorse about your sexcapades before. In general, he always seemed to be one step ahead of everyone, so sure of what he wanted and knowing exactly how to get it, but now you wonder what other mysterious emotions he must be harboring.

In fact, when you think about it, not even Wooyoung has ever really known the deep, dark intricacies of Seonghwa’s mind. Just how much is Seonghwa bottling inside? How much is he guarding from others with his lone wolf facade?

His drunken words echo loudly in your head and, even though you know it is stupid to pay them any attention, you can’t help but try deciphering them. Surely if he is apologizing for being selfish, he must have some idea of how difficult he has made this for you, but what does he mean he wishes he could be better?

The only conclusion you can clearly draw, though you try your best not to invest too much stock in it, is that he truly does care for you, but there is something holding him back. And by the trembling sound of his voice, along with the truthful drunken tears he shed, it seems to be eating him up inside.

Sleeping softly in your lap, he looks so defenseless and innocent, like a lost child who just needs someone to tell them everything will be alright. You wonder if he came to you tonight because he truly has no one else to do that for him. To just hold and comfort him until he feels okay.

While you can’t immediately forgive all of his elusive actions thus far, you suddenly feel sorry for Seonghwa as you ponder the breadth of his unspoken pain. You doubt he will remember any of this in the morning, if he even sticks around long enough for you to see him. And while one part of you hopes he forgets so that you can move on from him, another part wishes for him to remember and, just maybe, allow you to see this vulnerable side of him without the assistance of alcohol.

Seonghwa stirs in his sleep with a grumble, bringing you back to reality where you still sit with your hand against his cheek. As carefully as possible, you try to sneak out from under him, but he must sense your impending absence since he yet again responds with a desperately sad whine that makes you freeze. With a heavy sigh, you acquiesce to his unspoken request to stay a bit longer before heading to bed.

You delicately reach towards the other end of the sofa to grab your throw blanket, spreading it over his body to keep him warm. You try your best not to get too wrapped up in your thoughts, your fingers instinctively brushing his hair back in a calming, repetitive motion.

At some point you must have dozed off because you awake in the morning in the exact same position as before, your neck screaming in pain as you lift your head from its awkward placement for the first time in hours. You glance down at Seonghwa to find he is still sleeping soundly, his lips parted slightly as he lets out steady soft breaths. Without thinking, you let your fingertips brush along his cheek, your thumb just lightly grazing across his bottom lip as you admire his beauty.

Both of you startle, however, when he suddenly opens his eyes and sees you staring down at him affectionately. You gasp and pull your hands back at the surprise and he quickly jolts straight up in embarrassment.

“Oh, I- uh, you’re awake,” you stutter awkwardly as he repositions himself to sit normally, his eyes still wide in shock though he avoids looking in your direction. You hate the tense silence that befalls the room as he fails to reply, surely trying to make sense of the situation he has put himself in. “Do you feel alright?”

As if your question suddenly reminds him that you are there, he peeks over shyly and nods. “I’m okay, I’m just-”

“Hungover?”

As you cut him off, he nods again, dropping his head in his hands and gruffly rubbing his eyes to wake himself up. His typically neat hair is disheveled and his cheeks are still tinted pink, indicating the groggy state he is in.

You wait for him to say something more, to say something - anything - about last night, but he seems too dazed to make conversation just yet, so you take initiative before you can stop yourself.

“Do you want to take a shower? No offense, but you kind of reek of alcohol,” you admit, halfheartedly expecting a chuckle from him that never comes. “I can make breakfast in the meantime.”

He takes a moment to think before nodding again and groaning in discomfort as he stands from the couch with you following suit. Even while you fetch him a clean towel and direct him to the restroom, he says nothing and dares not make eye contact. As soon as he has shut the door, you let out a deep breath that you didn’t even realize you were holding.

You aren’t sure what to make of his demeanor and it’s unclear whether he remembers the events of last night or not. On one hand, he could be acting bashful just because he woke up in your lap to you caressing him. On the other hand, though, he may be embarrassed because he recalls exposing his more vulnerable side while under the influence.

The anxious tension in your chest has your heart beating strangely and you figure you should stop overthinking for now, instead opting to focus on the menial task of cooking eggs and toast while you wait for Seonghwa. By the time you are finished and setting the table, you hear his footsteps plodding closer and steel yourself mentally for however this meal may go.

He rounds the corner dressed once again in his clothes from before but now with damp hair that he has attempted to fluff up with a towel. He stops across the room from you before bringing himself to glance in your direction, his shy demeanor a full 180 from his usual disposition.

“I hung the towel on the rack in there. I hope that’s okay,” he mutters.

“Yeah, that’s fine,” you awkwardly reply as you try your best to act normally and be inviting enough to make him less uncomfortable. “Come sit. Do you want some coffee?”

“Ah, no thanks. Just water is fine.”

He shuffles over and you both take your seats across from each other at the small round table. As he glimpses at the food you laid out, he also notices the pain relievers you put next to his plate and allows a minute smile to appear on his lips before it quickly fades away.

When acting so strangely like this, Seonghwa seems almost like a skittish cat that will dash if you make any sudden movement or prod him, so you gently pass him the bowl of eggs so that he can serve himself. He accepts it with a meager “thank you” and takes a small amount before handing it back, but makes no movement to start eating. Figuring he may be waiting for you, you bite off a small chunk of toast, and only when you go to swallow does he startle you by speaking.

“I’m sorry I showed up drunk last night,” he mumbles while pushing his food around with his fork, never actually picking it up. You nearly choke, but thankfully manage to avoid making the situation that much more awkward.

“It’s okay,” you offer pleasantly even though you definitely did not think it was okay at the time. It’s not like telling him off right now would do any good anyways.

“And I’m sorry I broke your vase.”

There is a beat of silence as he finally makes eye contact and studies your expression.

“Oh… so you remember?” Your heart races at the notion of having this conversation right now, but he just nods. “You seemed really upset.”

The words come out of your mouth before you can stop them and you practically kick yourself at how nosy you sound. He chuckles humorlessly and drops his fork as he leans back in his chair with a sigh.

“Yeah, I guess I was pretty upset,” he mutters. “I just– Basically, I– I mean–”

“It’s alright,” you interrupt as he struggles to find the right words. “You don’t have to explain.”

But you want him to. You so desperately want him to.

“Even if I don’t need to, I want to. Or I guess want isn’t the right word. But I should.”

He has you on the edge of your seat, the meal entirely forgotten as you hang on to his every word with a flurrying mix of fear, anxiety, and curiosity. Your uneasiness only increases as he takes time to think about how he should state this.

“I don’t know where to start,” he admits.

“Anywhere is fine. Just, whatever you want to say.”

He takes a deep breath and releases it slowly as if preparing himself. He then leans forward again to rest his elbows on the table as he gazes at you earnestly, his affect more confident than before as he has become determined to get through this conversation.

“Let me say this first,” he prefaces, making your heart drop as you dread the worst. “I like you. And I mean I really like you… but I don’t think it would be good for you to… fall for me.”

‘Too fucking late’ you want to tell him, but he continues before you get the chance to say anything.

“And I know I’ve given you a lot of mixed signals, but a relationship… I just… can’t.”

The silence echoes throughout the room and you attempt to fight off tears. Whether they are out of anger or out of sadness, you are not entirely sure, but thankfully you are able to suppress them along with the lump in your throat.

“You just can’t? Why? Can’t be bothered to tie yourself down to one girl? Can’t help but want to be a playboy who toys with people’s feelings?” you sneer as annoyance bubbles up inside you at the thought of this being his bullshit explanation, but he looks at you with an abhorred expression.

“God, no. That’s not it.”

“Then what is it?”

You cross your arms and wait expectantly as he restlessly runs his hands through his damp hair with a shaky exhale.

“I never meant to give you so many mixed signals. This whole time I was telling myself that things between us are only casual so I wouldn’t feel so bad about seeing you– because I kept wanting to see you –but after we truly slept together… I realized how much more it is, at least for me.”

Your heart tingles with excitement for a moment before you remember that this is simply the preface to whatever reason he has for dumping you– or, you guess, technically pre-dumping you.

“When I woke up that morning, I started freaking out so I left and I’ve spent all week going crazy over it. Then when the weekend came, I was desperate to get it off my mind, but somehow ended up at your door.” He pauses and looks away as he gathers his thoughts momentarily. “I’m just so afraid that I can’t be the person you’ll want me to be.”

His heavy words catch you by surprise, leaving you slightly confused as to where this is coming from. “What do you mean?”

You can tell this is extremely difficult for him to talk about by how fidgety he is getting, but you can’t just let him end his explanation so cryptically, not when you are finally seeing this truthful, vulnerable side of him. Surely there must be more to his reasoning.

“My last relationship, about five years ago, was an absolute disaster,” he admits despite his discomfort. “We had been together for three years until one day I came home to find her in bed with another man. I know, so cliche, right?”

He scoffs sourly at his own remark.

“I found out she had been seeing him behind my back for months. Of course, she had no remorse. She said it was my fault for not paying enough attention to her, or for working too much, or because I hadn’t proposed yet. And the more she went on about it, the more I actually began to believe it was my fault.”

Your mouth hangs open in shock at what he has experienced, the drama of it sounding like a perfect Lifetime movie. His fear and anxiety around commitment suddenly makes perfect sense.

“Since then,” he continues. “It has just been easier to not care or feel. Someone who doesn’t invest in anything doesn’t have anything to lose, so that is what I did. I thought I could just fake it until I make it, and it had been working just fine, until…”

He glances back up at you to imply the rest of his confession without actually having to say it out loud. Your stunned brain rushes to process the many emotions you’re feeling, but your mouth acts before you can stop it.

“What a fucking asshole!” you exclaim in a rage, surprising Seonghwa, who now looks at you dumbfoundedly.

“What?” he asks, perplexed.

“Sorry, not you, I just–” you pause shortly to calm yourself before continuing. “It just makes me so mad that someone would do that to you and have the nerve to place any of the blame on you. I mean, it’s just ludicrous.”

“Well, it’s not like I was the best–”

“Seonghwa, stop,” you interrupt sternly, causing him to shut his mouth in obedience. “Regardless of what’s going on between us, you need to realize that no matter what you did in that relationship, you did not deserve that and you did not cause that. If she really had all those qualms then she could’ve broken up with you, but she made the choice instead to hurt you like that. That is on her and her alone. Cheaters never cheat because they have problems with their partner; they cheat because they have problems with themselves. So I refuse to sit here and listen to you talk shit about yourself over someone else’s mistakes.”

It is now his turn to fall speechless after your rage-fuelled rant. The anger you feel just from imagining how lonely and hurt he must’ve been alerts you to how deep your affection actually runs, but you do your best to push the thought aside for now. You at least find the irony somewhat comical that all week you’ve been pissed at Seonghwa and now here you are defending him.

Honestly, you only realize now just how two-dimensional you have perceived him as up to this point. For a long time, he was just Wooyoung’s hot and mysterious roommate. And recently, you’ve only seen him as horny, arrogant, and a bit cold-hearted. You feel a pang of guilt for never granting him the decency of considering he runs any deeper than such a superficial level. Between last night and now, it has become clear that he feels and thinks much more than he has ever let on.

Silence still echoes awkwardly throughout the room, and you assume you may have been a bit too brash. You clear your throat stiffly and straighten in your seat. Your heart sinks heavy in your chest as you fear this will really be the end before you’ve even started. Still, you can’t let him go without saying what is on your mind one last time

“Seonghwa,” you call softly, his eyes flicking up to meet yours. “I know you’re afraid, and I know you’ve been hurt, but I really hope that you don’t let that keep you from finding your own happiness… even if that happiness isn’t in me. Of course, I really like you too, but if you don’t want–”

“No,” he interjects rapidly. “I do want this. I want you, but I also don’t want to disappoint you and make you deal with all of my insecurities and baggage. I don’t know when– or even if –I’ll be able to feel normal about love again. I don’t know if I can be the perfect boyfriend you’d want.”

“I never said I wanted you to be a perfect boyfriend,” you quip immediately with slight annoyance at just how self-critical he is being. “I don’t want you to be anything… I just want you. Even when I was pissed at you and wanted to write you off for good, I was secretly hoping you’d come back with an explanation or an apology or a confession– with anything even though it may have been pathetic of me.”

“I don’t think you’re pathetic,” he states seriously. “Can I ask you a question, though?”

“Of course.”

“What if it doesn’t work out? And what if I can’t bring myself to trust again?”

His expression shows just how anxious and sullen he is, his head and heart likely overwhelmed from trying to navigate this situation and fight the fear he has harbored for so many years. As much as you want to assuage his concerns, you know it isn’t fair to guarantee that everything will come up roses, especially since it could just make his insecurities worse if it doesn’t.

“Honestly, Seonghwa, I can’t 100% promise that it will work, but that is both the joy and the pain of relationships. Yes, sometimes you get burned, but sometimes you find something incredible, and that incredible thing suddenly makes all of the past hurt worth it,” you level. “And if you did want to take that chance, I am fine with moving as slowly as you’re comfortable with. I wouldn’t have any expectations or rush your timeline to heal, but I’d always be willing to support you through the process. I’m not going to push you into a relationship you’re not ready for, though, so the choice is always up to you.”

He stares into the distance as he processes the many conflicting emotions brewing in his heart, having to decide which one he is going to let dictate his happiness from now on. As time ticks on with you staying silent to let him ponder, you begin to prepare yourself for rejection just in case he decides the risk isn’t worth it. As devastated as you would be, you just hope that he will make the decision that is best for him.

Seonghwa is taking so long considering his options that you are about to tell him he can think about it for a few days when he finally speaks.

“Okay,” is all he says in a quiet voice. Your heart automatically races as your hopes shoot through the roof.

“Okay?” you question, wanting to make sure you aren’t misunderstanding his response.

“Let’s go slow and see where it takes us,” he states more confidently now. “I know I can’t make many promises to you, but the one thing I will promise is that I’ll try.”

You can’t help the tears of happiness that rapidly spring to your eyes and glide down your cheeks, the tension of the entire morning beginning to fade away. In fact, the burden of the anxiety and anger that you’ve experienced over the past few weeks has suddenly lifted from your shoulders, resulting in the emotional reaction. Seonghwa, though, is instantly flustered.

“What happened? Why are you crying?” he babbles in a panic as he gets up and walks over to you. He easily slides your chair away from the table and kneels next to you so that you two are level.

With him this close, your hand automatically reaches to caress his cheek, but you stop midway as you remember you might make him uncomfortable. Seeing your hesitation, however, he reaches up and guides your hand to his face, a silent message of approval. You smile in response despite your tear-stained skin.

“I’m just happy,” you chuckle, his face now lighting up to match yours as he absentmindedly rests his hand on your bare thigh. You do your best to ignore the way your body reacts to his touch, but it becomes much harder when he thoughtlessly lets his thumb rub back and forth against your skin in a comforting motion.

“Seonghwa,” you call gently as your tears stop and you wipe away their traces, removing your hand from Seonghwa’s face in the process.

“Hm?” He looks up at you innocently with so much concern that you visibly gulp.

“If we are going to take things slow, then you’ll have to keep things like this to a minimum.”

Your eyes flick to his hand and he follows your line of sight. Realizing what you mean, he releases a genuine chuckle that is music to your ears.

“I mean…” he starts off mischievously. “Maybe we take it slow starting tomorrow? And today we move fast one last time?”

“Move fast?” you question quietly, your brain only catching up when you see his seductive smirk that you’ve gotten so used to. “Are you horny right now?”

You’re shocked that after that long and heavy conversation, this is still what is running through his mind, but he seems so relaxed about it that you let out an amused laugh. 

“Should I not be? It’s not my fault you look needlessly cute when you cry.”

The lightened mood has you feeling weightless at last, and with his suggestion to be reckless one last time, you are quickly leaning forward and pressing your lips against his. He is slightly surprised at first, but melts into your embrace with little hesitation.

The kiss is nothing like last time. Instead of being fueled only by lust, it is noticeably more passionate and emotional, a physical outpouring of all the feelings you’ve both been desperately suppressing until this moment.

He stands up slowly and grips your waist to bring you onto your feet as well before pulling you tight against his body, the proximity making you dizzy with yearning. Wanting to feel the heat of his skin against yours, you tug at the hem of his shirt and he pulls away briefly to reach behind his head and pull it off in one swift movement. God is it hot when he does that. You let your eyes linger on his toned abdomen, your fingertips gently running down its ridges.

“Like what you see?” he teases, making you giggle as you are reminded of that first rainy night you two spent together when he asked the same exact question.

“You know I do.” Your fingers meet his belt and you grip it to tug him back against you, his playful grin returning at your forwardness.

“Well haven’t you gotten feisty, baby?” he taunts, and you palm him over his jeans as you nod. “Missed my cock that much?”

Fuck. There it is. That sinful fucking mouth of his that has you biting your lip just to keep from moaning, your panties now sticking to your wet core. All you can do is nod enthusiastically before standing on your tiptoes to press your lips against his again. You hold him close by the back of his neck while his hands travel down to roughly grab your ass, making you squeal. He pulls away just momentarily to mutter “cute” before grabbing the backs of your thighs and hoisting you into the air.

Your legs instinctively wrap around his hips as he swiftly carries you off to the bedroom, your hands tugging at the hair on the back of his head. You are desperate to have him as close to you as possible now that you can do so without spending days afterwards feeling like shit.

Seonghwa plops you down on your mattress unceremoniously and makes easy work of your top and pajama shorts, tossing them mindlessly on the floor. He grabs your ankles and playfully tugs you to the edge– another surprised yelp escaping your lips –so that his face is level with your core once he gets on his knees. You hold your legs up and open for him as he runs his fingertips gingerly across your underwear to feel your wetness through the fabric.

“This pussy is going to make me go crazy,” he purrs, your heart fluttering out of control. “I’ve been dying for another taste.”

“Be my guest then.”

After a devilish glance in your direction, he pulls your panties aside and moans at the sight of your sex. You feel like you might just pass out and die right here from how turned on you are with every little thing he does, especially when he leans in to lick a flat stripe up your slit, flicking his tongue playfully against your clit in the process. He just smirks at your pitiful moan.

Compared to before, the way in which he eats you out is a little less desperate, but much more sensual. He sucks and laps at your sensitive nub erotically and brings his left hand up to interlock his fingers with yours. He may be diving face-first into your cunt right now, but there is something about the simple romanticism of holding hands that has butterflies erupting in your stomach. Honestly, you have typically dreaded guys going down on you because they are always so overconfident and then can’t deliver, but Seonghwa– He is nothing if not extraordinarily talented.

You gaze down at him as he works on you and man is it a sight to see. His silver hair, still not quite dry, has been mostly pushed back from his face, but a few stray pieces fall across his forehead. His eyes are closed as he gets lost in pleasing you and his cheeks are flushed from how heated he is getting. When he feels the intensity of your stare and makes eye contact, he moans wantonly with his lips around your clit, the vibrations making you gasp and reach down to card your fingers through his locks. The sting he feels in his scalp from your grasp only spurs him on more, moving his free hand just below his mouth to glide his middle finger deep inside your hole.

“Oh fuck,” you moan shamelessly as he curls his digit to rub against your g-spot.

With how wet you are for him, he wastes no time in slipping a second finger in along with the first to start stretching you out for his dick. The pleasurable intrusion, along with his expert mouth, has you arching your back dramatically, your hand squeezing his tighter and tighter as the tension builds in your core.

“Hwa, don’t stop!”

“Call me that again,” he growls, loving how it rolls off your tongue. As soon as he laps at your clit once more, your climax hits and you cry out his nickname as your legs shake from the intensity. His movements are relentless as he savors every last bit of euphoria he can give you, not stopping until you are whining and squirming away from his touch. Only then does he remove his fingers, sucking them clean with a hungry look in his eyes and then licking along your folds one last time.

Despite your heaving chest from the mind-blowing orgasm, you are still ravenous, so you rapidly sit up and tug him onto the bed with you. With a bit of skillful maneuvering, you get Seonghwa to lay on his back, your hands making quick work of his belt to pull his bottoms off altogether. His impressive cock slaps against his stomach as soon as it escapes its confines, the tip already leaking with precum.

Once he is fully naked, you also slip off your bra and playfully toss it onto his face, making him laugh as he chucks it aside. He can’t stop himself from sitting up and attaching his mouth to one of your nipples, his tongue swirling around it while one hand gropes your other boob. As amazing as it feels, it is now your turn to please him instead, so you push him back down onto the mattress and wrap your hand around his length to start stroking.

“You want to suck my cock that badly, baby girl?” His smug expression says it all.

“You act like you didn’t just eat me out like your last meal,” you quip before bending down to circle your tongue around the head of his cock.

“I can’t help that you have such a delicious little pussy.” His words have you blushing.

“Well I can’t help that you have such a delicious cock.” He chuckles down at you and brushes your hair out of your face as you place small kisses up his shaft.

“Touche,” he says before immediately groaning as you finally bring him past your lips and hollow out your cheeks.

With how big he is, you’ll have to work yourself up to fitting much of him inside, so you start off by using your hand to stimulate the parts you can’t reach yet. You glance up at him to see him watching you with his mouth agape, enamored by the view he has. It takes everything in him not to buck his hips up, but thankfully you are able push him past the back of your throat.

“Just like that,” he coos as he gathers your hair in one hand to keep it out of the way and guide your movements. “Good girl.”

Upon hearing his praise, you start bobbing up and down, your throat flexing around him in a way that has him hissing in pleasure. You let your hands glide up his body to caress along his abdomen, his muscles tensing instinctively when you brush over anywhere sensitive. You can see goosebumps forming on his arms and you love the way his body reacts so visibly to your touch.

With his grip on your hair, he encourages you to take him further and you oblige. Obscene sounds escape you as you try your best to please him and the noise has him moaning even louder. Seeing him this worked up, your insatiable cunt once again cries for attention, desperate to be filled by his massive cock. You impatiently release his dick with a pop and stand up to pull off your panties, Seonghwa watching you the entire time with a lust-filled gaze.

“You gonna let me stretch out that cute little pussy again?” he hums as you straddle him and line his tip up with your hole.

“I’m not just sitting on you for nothing,” you tease right back, earning you a flirtatious smack on the ass as you slowly take every inch of him.

“I didn’t realize you were such a brat in bed,” he says through a moan. “I’ll have to take note.”

“You have a lot to learn, Hwa.”

After your snarky comment, you promptly choke on a gasp as you finally sink all the way down, your walls fluttering to adjust to his considerable size. You can feel him pressing against every spot inside you, the sensation already dizzying without even having to move, but patience has never really been your middle name.

Resting your hands on his chest to keep yourself steady, you grind against him and throw your head back as pleasure tingles through every inch of your body. His hands dig into your hips to spur on your movement while curses fall from his mouth in the form of moans.

“Yes, baby. Ride my fucking cock,” he growls, your cunt clenching around him in response, which does not go unnoticed. “Such a dirty girl.”

“Only for you,” you answer, intending not only to continue the dirty talk, but also to subtly assure him that you are now his and his alone. No ifs, ands, or buts about it.

In search of even more intensity, you start bouncing rhythmically on his dick. His eyes fixate in your tits as they jiggle in front of him, clearly transfixed by the sight. Seeing you work so needily for his dick is something that will surely be replaying in his dreams from now on, perhaps even in his “daydreams” of sorts. 

“Show me you fucking want it,” he commands to motivate you, a moan falling past your lips at his domineering tone.

He grabs your hands from his chest and once again interlocks his fingers with yours, holding them up a bit higher to help support your movements. You’re not sure if you can handle Seonghwa being a hand-holder during sex when the simple act affects you this much. Nevermind that fact that he feels so amazing when filling you up to the brim. Without even trying, his cock constantly pokes at your g-spot in a manner that makes it feel like electricity is running through your veins.

Despite how euphoric you are feeling, your thighs start getting tired from bouncing on him and your pace starts faltering as you fight your shaky muscles. Noticing your struggle, Seonghwa uses your held hands to tug you down against his chest, letting go just after to cup your face and gaze affectionately into your eyes.

“You are going to be the death of me, I swear,” he mutters, smiling at the way you blush timidly. “I could spend all day complimenting you if you always react like that.”

“I’ll be looking forward to it then.”

You press your lips against his once again, just enjoying the taste of him on your tongue and the warmth of his embrace. While you are lost in the passionate kiss, he pleasantly surprises you by beginning to gently thrust up into you, the both of you moaning into each other at the new angle.

He glides his hands down the sides of your body, stopping at your ass and roughly gripping your cheeks to hold you just how he wants you while snapping his hips against yours. After gliding in and out of you a few times to test the waters, he bends his legs to plant his feet firmly into the mattress and starts mercilessly pounding into you.

“Holy shit!” you exclaim at the suddenly overwhelming sensation, your face just inches from his as your eyes stay locked on each other. The act feels extra intimate as you watch the pleasure unfolding in each other’s features.

You can’t control your lewd moans that fill the room as the tension starts building in your core once again. When you bite your lip to try and stifle the sound, Seonghwa shakes his head without ever faltering in his pace.

“Don’t hold back. Let me hear how good I make you feel.”

You do as he asks, your pathetic whimpers and whines getting increasingly high-pitched as you teeter on the edge of euphoria. The way your pussy starts constricting around Seonghwa has him also flirting with release, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t make you cum on his cock first.

Wanting to feel you release around him, he gathers all his energy to ruthlessly buck into you even faster than before, the sound of skin slapping against skin reverberating pornographically off your bedroom walls. At this rate, you wouldn’t be surprised if you end up with a noise complaint from your neighbors.

Seonghwa lets out pants mixed with vulgar moans in time with each thrust, trying his best to hang on until you’ve been taken care of. With the way your cunt tightens around him, though, he can tell you aren’t too far off.

“Hwa– please– yes!”

“Let go, baby.”

As if flipping a switch, your body immediately reacts to his command and your orgasm hits you at full force. Your nails dig into Seonghwa’s shoulders as you hold on for dear life, the feeling threatening to send you straight to heaven, never to return. It is shocking that he could even make you cum this hard without you having to touch yourself, but then again he has already proven himself as quite the sexpert.

The vice grip that your satisfied pussy has on his cock is more than he can resist, his own high following shortly after yours. He stills inside you and kisses you passionately once more as you both bask in the bliss of your climaxes. Only when you start coming down from cloud 9 do you detach and rest your foreheads together, trying to catch your breath from the intensive activity.

Being this close to him, both physically and emotionally now, has your heart feeling warm and fuzzy. While you know things won’t just magically be perfect between you two, and there are still many things to work through, you are excited to take the risk and work through them together. It will surely take time and mistakes will be made, but perhaps you can exercise some patience this one time.

To think that this all started because of a random storm and you being too lazy to fetch an umbrella.

“You know,” Seonghwa murmurs as he caringly tucks your hair behind your ears. “We said we would start going slow tomorrow, so that gives us the rest of the day to make the most of this speed.”

You laugh at his coy smile. “We’d better get busy then.”

Damn does this man drive you crazy.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Taglist: @minkysmilk @annaflwrs @han8ul @whatudowhennooneseesyou @aishidaishi 

@ja3hwa​ @btsreader12​ @mingkyway​ 

#ateez smut #ateez drabbles #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez fanfiction #ateez x you #seonghwa smut #seonghwa drabbles #seonghwa fanfic #seonghwa imagines #seonghwa fanfiction #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa x you #seonghwa scenarios #seonghwa oneshot #ateez oneshot #kpop smut #kpop drabbles #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #kpop imagines #kpop oneshot #kpop x reader #kpop x you #kpop scenarios

[laundrypause]

All I can think about lately is Logan getting hanahaki so here's a vague outline of a fic I'll never write. *Edited because good God there were so many spelling mistakes+tw of mentions of blood and dying

Being head over heels over your best friend isn't the best thing in the world. Even if you spend 23 hours with them it still won't be enough. Logan knows he should just man up and tell Oscar but like...no. Why should he tell Oscar when he could just suffer in silence?

When both him and Oscar gets into F1, Logan thinks it's high time he confesses but Oscar hasn't been around much lately. He chalks it up to having to get to know your teammate better and other team related stuff. But when you see Lewis Hamilton more than your best friend, he knows that he's basically lost Oscar to his papaya-clad counterpart. Surprise, surprise he gets hanahaki because when has the universe ever taken pity on him? It starts small at first with a few petals per day but then they start getting bigger and sometimes he throws up full-on flowers. He has two choices, well three but the third one is obviously out of the question, 1. Get the surgery to remove the flowers but he has to lose all memories and feelings he has of Oscar or 2. Not do anything. Of course, he chooses the latter because he's so whipped that he'd rather die than lose all the years of memories he has of Oscar. So he does that and suffers through races upon races of trying to stuff petals back into his mouth when he's not alone.

For some reason, Oscar finds out and he...he LIKES HIM TOO???? Like no cap, fr??? Wtf, so you're telling him that he could have confessed and wouldn't have had to be laying in a pool of flower petals and his own blood every other week? Damn, well, it may not have been the chosen path but at least they got there.

Logan's walking through the paddock, trying to find Oscar when he overhears a part of his conversation UNINTENTIONALLY okay, and if someone says that he moved closer to hear better, they're lying. And oh. Oh, it's really bad. Like 'I'm only with Logan because he's my best friend and I don't want him to die bad'. At that moment, at that instant, the hanahaki comes back full force. He's choking on petals, blood and saliva. He's grasping his throat, at a loss on how to get some well needed oxygen into his lungs when Oscar comes out to find him convulsing on the paddock ground. Oscar doesn't know what to do other than shout at someone to call an ambulance as he runs his fingers through Logan's hair, begging Logan to hold out a little longer.

Oscar's being presented with two options when they get to the hospital. Either consent to the surgery or let Logan die. It's a no-brainer, he consents to it even if that means Logan won't remember him. When Logan wakes up after the surgery, he sees a man clad in a mind numbing orange sat next to his hospital bed. Oscar, the name of the orange man, says he had to have an emergency surgery because his appendix burst. Weird, Logan thinks, because he doesn't see any scar at where his appendix should be.

It's the Abu Dhabi GP. Oscar's in his car, trying not to hack his lungs out. He doesn't feel sick but he can't stop coughing for some reason. He looks in his rearview mirror and sees the number 2 of a Williams car. His chest constricts for half a second which was odd. Whatever, he refocuses on the lights in front of him. He's not going to let some coughing fit affect his racing when McLaren's so close to getting third in the constructor's championship.

Finally, finally, he finishes the race with more than a couple close calls when he was having coughing fits in his car. He mutters a soft prayer as he cruises around the track one last time before returning to his garage. His legs are shaky as he starts the walk back with his helmet under his arm. He sees Logan's garage. Not too far from his own. He coughs. Just once. He coughs once and he sees it. A flower petal floating delicately onto the asphalt ground. A blue rose petal.

Shit.

#loscar #desperately need loscar moots #Logan angst is a must in loscar fics #inspired by Kaimu on AO3

[writtenfromhawkins]

hoax - part two.

ship: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: as you had feared, your fake date changed the dynamic between you and steve. but maybe that wasn’t a bad thing. 

word count: 2.7k

warnings: swearing, alcohol, princess bride spoilers (kind of? i don’t know, it’s been thirty years, watch the movie and then talk to me about it because it’s my favorite).

author’s note: it’s finally here! hope everyone enjoys it. @taylorsmylover​ @sllooney​ @cheerupbarry​

part one.

all's well that ends well to end up with you.

After Steve dropped you off at home, life went on. You worked, you studied, you spent time with your friends—including him. Nothing felt off per se, but there was a shift, a change in routine, a difference maybe not dramatic to you, but something the others definitely picked up on.

For movie night, your suggestion The Princess Bride lost handily. Despite that, though, Steve still showed up with a copy.

“Oh,” he’d said, almost sheepish, “this isn’t the one we agreed on? Sorry, guys.”

The two of you sat a little closer on the couch, whispered softer, and giggled more. He rolled his eyes and grumbled when you talked about how cute Cary Elwes was, you playfully smacked his bicep in response. It was a nice, quiet night, totally typical, so you couldn’t figure out why Robin looked so perplexed when you caught her eye from across the room.

Maybe if that had been it—just one weird night of affection—your friends could have left it alone, chalking it up to a lapse of judgment on your part. But it didn’t stop. Hugs went on for too long, and smiles lingered. Any time you passed, his hand somehow found the small of your back, guiding you by. Sure, Steve was known to be affectionate with you, boundaries long abandoned, so it wasn’t that weird. But the way you’d lean into each touch was a new development. Although not as alarming of one as Steve’s very recent lack of flirting.

Cute girl after cute girl passed through Family Video without receiving so much as a wink or a terribly delivered pick up and Robin was becoming increasingly concerned. If he wasn’t sick, and he wasn’t, he wasn’t whining enough for that, it meant something else was going on.

“Harrington,” she hissed one day, eyes wide, “that total babe was throwing herself at you. That, like, never happens.”

“Was she?” Steve’s bewilderment was genuine, he simply hadn’t noticed.

“Come on, you didn’t see that? I could feel the sexual tension from here.”

“Nope,” he answered, popping the ‘P’. “Guess she just wasn’t my type.”

But Robin knew better, he wasn’t exactly discerning; anyone with a pulse and boobies was his type. Something was up and, after conspiring—gossiping—with Eddie, she was determined to figure out what exactly it was.

—     

You’d probably never admit it, especially not unprompted, but Tuesday was your favorite day of the week. Sure, you were stuck at work for far too long—three doubles allowed you the freedom to study while also affording you the luxury of paying your bills—but it was also heavy metal night. Pickings were slim in a town the size of Hawkins and, as a result, Corroded Coffin got the chance to basically do a full set and you got to see your friends.

It became routine ever since Eddie joined your little group. You, of course, had no choice but to be in attendance. But Steve and Robin would come by too. Your regulars hadn’t been too receptive to the band—you’d been asked what is this ruckus? too many times to count—so, while none of you were exactly metal heads, you figured three confused, but supportive faces in the crowd couldn’t hurt. Besides, you found if you cheered loud enough, you could get most of the other bargoers on board. 

So it was no surprise to see Eddie step through the dinged door, followed promptly by Robin. Even if they were a little early.

“Hey, guys,” you call out, waving. 

You duck below the bar where the sanitizing bucket and rags were located. The very brief lull after Happy Hour didn’t allow for much dallying and you were stuck doing your regular tasks in a very short window of time: clean the bar, get clean glasses, and cut up your garnishes. 

You grab a torn piece of fabric, dip it in the cleaning solution carefully and stand. You’re barely back to your full height when you’re greeted by Eddie and Robin’s faces just inches from yours. They’re leaning forward, elbows resting on the very surface you need to clean. 

“Jesus Christ!” You rear back, free hand jumping to your chest. 

“Are you going to tell us what’s going on?” Eddie asks, raising his brows. He can’t help it—he’s curious.

“Yeah,” Robin encourages with a nod, “we don’t keep secrets here.”

You sigh, reaching out and pushing them back gently so you can wipe up rings of condensation and spilled booze. “I’d really like to play along but I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Robin laughs. If it sounds like she doesn’t believe you it’s because she doesn’t. “Uh huh, sure.”

“Something’s up with you and Steve, we can tell.”

You freeze. “I—what?”

“You’re not denying it,” Eddie points out, grinning.

“No, she’s not,” Robin agrees.

It was then you realize what was going on: you were being interrogated. “Nothing’s going on. We’re friends.”

“We’re friends and he’s not all over me,” Robin points out.

“Yeah, I wonder why that is,” you quip.

“The Princess Bride!”

“What?”

“The Princess fucking Bride,” Eddie repeats himself, eyeing you knowingly. “I was finally gonna get you guys to watch Labyrinth and he showed up with that.”

“He grabbed the wrong movie, so what?” You pause. “And you loved The Princess Bride!”

“Yeah,” Eddie admits with a chuckle, “I really did. It has some really badass sword scenes and Andre the Giant, what’s not to like?” All very fair points.

Robin sighs, poking at his shoulder. “You’re getting distracted.” She fixes her gaze on you. “Steve is the worst liar. You gotta know he did that on purpose.”

Alright, yeah, you kinda did. He wasn’t going to be getting any Oscars any time soon. But it was an act you didn’t—couldn’t—think too much about.

If you really considered it, after that night with his parents, a switch flipped, and never went back. You weren’t together, you were still very much just friends, but the touches, the unbridled affection, the soft moments didn’t stop after the facade ended and you weren’t complaining.

The dam had burst and you didn’t think you could go back. You worried if you brought it up, shining a spotlight on the niceties, that it would all end. You were selfish—you wanted it all.

“Okay…” You let out a huff of air. “So, we did kinda go on a date.”

The revelation sends Robin spiraling. “What?” She exclaims, dramatically throwing herself on the bar—she couldn’t just feel her despair, she had to show it too. “And here I thought you were the one girl in town left immune to the Harrington… uh, charm, I guess?”

“Shush,” you admonish, shooting her a warning look. You turn, flashing your customers an apologetic before your focus turns back to your friends. “It wasn’t real.”

“Alright, you lost me now,” Eddie pipes up.

Robin raises her head just enough so she can look up at you through long lashes. “What does that mean?”

“His dad was being a dick about some work dinner and he needed a plus one.” You shrug. “I just had to act like his girlfriend.”

“Oh god,” Robin groans. “Can’t believe we gave him that much credit.”

“Huh?”

“He’s been making goo-goo eyes at you for ages.”

“Mhm,” Eddie hums in agreement. “It’s kinda gross.”

“We thought he finally did something about it. Even though I always thought you were too smart for that.”

They kept going but your mind was reeling. “Goo-goo eyes?”

“You’re still on that?” Robin can’t hide it, she was enjoying this. “Yes, he practically turns into a Bugs Bunny cartoon with giant heart eyes every time he sees you. And, in true dingus fashion, he asks you on a fake date instead of a real one.” She shakes her head. “Makes no sense but it obviously worked on you somehow.”

“It didn’t—I—”

“Oh, come on.”

You blink, there’s nothing for you to say. You can’t exactly argue with Robin but actually agreeing feels wrong too. You’re stuck, two pairs of eyes trained intently on you, and you’re desperate for escape. You scan the crowd of bored-looking customers, none of which seem to eagerly need you, before you catch glimpse of the empty stage.

“Don’t you have a show or something?”

Eddie smirks. He knows what you’re doing but, in an act of pity, he decides to play along. “As a matter of fact, I do. Think the boys should be here by now. Wanna help us set up, Rob?”

“Sure.” She spins around on the stool and, when she gets up, you think you’re free. Until she calls over her shoulder, “Better figure it out soon, lover girl.”

—

Less than an hour later, the stage was full of instruments, microphones, and, most importantly, the band itself. The crowd increased, although not entirely for the music, and you didn’t notice Steve arrived until he was standing right before you.

Your grip on the bottle of Southern Comfort you were holding slackened a bit. All you could think was goo-goo eyes.

“Hey. sweetheart,” he grins, plopping down and claiming the nearest bar stool as his own.

You hold up a finger, letting him know you’d be with him in a minute, as you replace the bottle of whiskey with sloe gin and amaretto—with both hands officially occupied, you poured an ounce of each into the shaker.

“Crazy night,” you let him know, voice just barely able to be heard over the screeching of electric guitars and booming drums. You’re talking but you’ve yet to really look at him.

Orange juice fills the rest of the metal cup before you’re sliding a cover on, throwing it over your shoulder, and shaking the cup from side to side. Once it’s mixed and chilled, you drain it out into a Collins glass, admiring the brightly colored liquid that trickled out. Prettiest Alabama Slammer you’ve made yet.

That drink belongs to the redhead at the end of the bar. You slide it over to her with the friendliest “there ya go, love” you could muster before walking back over to your newest customer.

“Want your regular, Stevie?”

When he gives you the affirmative, you get to work. Whiskey sour, very light on the sour.

It’s easy enough and you’re handing him his drink in record time. In exchange, as always, you get far too much money. You used to argue, your attempt at letting him know he was being too generous, but he’d never budge—if he could, he’d give you even more, you were worth every penny.

He sips it casually while studying you over the rim of the glass. You looked pretty, that never seemed to change, but your shoulders were stiff and your jaw clenched. He could tell something was up. “You seem tense.”

You got that right. “I’m fine, just a little tired, I guess.”

It’s an easy lie after being at work for nine hours but it was one Steve didn’t really buy. Not that he pushed it. The two of you were close enough that he knew if you wanted to talk to him, you would. So he changed the subject. “Where’s Robin?”

“She’s around here somewhere. She showed up with Eddie to help set up.”

“Weird, we always come together.”

“Yeah, weird,” you agree. But he had no idea just how strange it was.

The mention of your mutual friend gets you thinking, though. You have no idea how Steve felt or if what they said was true, but you knew what was going on in your heart and your mind—and it was enough to alarm the people closest to you.

For the sake of the whole group, maybe it would be a good idea to just clear the air.

“Steve?” When he looks at you, you avert your gaze, focusing instead on the hanging wine glasses above the bar.  “What are you doing after this?”

“Hanging out with you.” The delivery was smooth, easy. But panic set in as he sat on the words, unease seeping through at the idea that you weren’t asking because you wanted to get together. “You, uh, know if that was like.. what you meant.”

It definitely was. “Come by my place after closing?”

“Yeah, yeah, I can do that.”

—

When you pull up outside your apartment hours later, Steve is already there, leaning against his car, waiting for you. You take a moment just to enjoy the sight—he looked like he belonged there, outside your home—before throwing your car in park and getting out.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

“Let’s go inside, yeah?” You suggest. “It’s late.”

You lead the way up rickety stairs, past long dead plants you’d since abandoned, and to your front door. It certainly wasn’t Steve’s first time at your place, but you couldn’t help it—you were nervous, unready for the conversation you were going to have to initiate. 

You look around for a moment, hoping for a distraction, one that would never come, you nod towards the living room. “We should sit.”

It’s a suggestion, but one Steve eagerly takes. As if it’s not your own home, he places his hand on your back, urging you forward until you’re both on the couch, almost touching. 

“You’re freaking me out with how quiet you are.”

You don’t mean to. It’s the one time in your life that you don’t know what to say. Still, you try.

“I talked to Robin and Eddie earlier.”

“The gruesome twosome,” Steve mutters. “They didn’t upset you or anything, did they?” Lord knows when they got together, especially alone, they could be a lot.

Not that he was complaining. Sure, they were a handful, but so were you and Dustin and the rest of the kids. He found himself in more trouble than ever and his blood pressure had certainly risen, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. After years of shitty friends and sycophants, he considered himself lucky to have a group of people who genuinely care for him.

None of that stopped him from worrying about what they could have done, though.

“No, no, nothing like that,” you answer quickly, assuaging his concerns. “I’ve just been thinking about what they said.”

“Uh oh, what was it?”

“This is totally crazy, but they think there’s something going on with us.” You expect Steve to laugh but he doesn’t. His cheeks flush and he looks away but he doesn’t seem to find it humorous. 

“They’re too nosey for their own good.” He shaves his head. “If they made you uncomfortable, I’m sorry.”

“I’m not,” you assure him. “I guess I just worried about things getting weird with us or, God forbid, the group.”

“Nothing will ever make things weird with us, you don’t have to worry about that.”

“The thing is... I don’t want anything to change either.” And you really don’t. “I, uh, I really like whatever we’re doing. Maybe too much?” It comes out like a question but it isn’t—it’s just the truth.

“I do too.”

There’s electricity in the air, a good tension.

“I always have,” Steve adds, emboldened by the disclosure. “I know we—I— joked around a lot but I think there always was some truth there.” He reaches over, grabbing ahold of your hand. “Then that night with my parents... which really was a favor, by the way. I didn’t have any gross ulterior motive.”

You squeeze his hand, not needing the assurance. You didn’t know a better human being; there was never a doubt about his intentions. “I know, Steve.”

“It was kinda the same, you know? You were still ridiculously pretty and I got to call you all those cutesy little names you love to hate. But it also felt serious. Like, it wasn’t real but it felt like it was.”

“I get what you mean,” you agree. “It just felt natural. I didn’t really want it to end.” 

“What if it didn’t have to?” Steve pauses for a moment, considering his words. “What if we tried it for real this time?”

You smile—big, bright, genuine—and Steve’s brain practically short circuits. “Are you asking me on an actual date?”

“I sure am.”

You can’t help yourself, the confirmation makes you giggle. He looks alarmed and you cover your face. “Hey,” he says, hands gently wrapping around your wrist, pulling your hands back down. “What’s so funny?”

“Robin is going to hate this.”

That gets him to laugh too. “God, you’re right. Especially when we tell her it’s all her fault.” 

“If only she kept her mouth shut,” you agree, your shoulder bumping against his.

“But thank God she didn’t.” Steve wraps an arm around you, pulling you even closer. “I might have to send her a fruit basket or something.”

—

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you

[oliviax727]

Language Update #1

I'm writing this post on the day my duolingo streak has reached 30. Combine that with rosetta stone, and I've done approximately 10 hours of language learning total, or 20 mins/day.

Now it hasn't all been exactly 20 mins per day, some days it's a lot less, some days it's a lot more, but what I also have to add is that I only did 10 days of rosetta stone.

Duolingo vs Rosetta Stone

Generally, I've found that duolingo has been better for my education than rosetta stone. Yes, the funny bird app works better than the "serious" language course. Here's a few reasons why:

Flexibility

Rosetta stone is not very flexible. It's very rigid in it's structure. You are typically required to spend 30 minutes per day on learning, 5 days a week.

Not just that, but you don't really have much options outside of progressing forward, there are auto-planned revision, speaking, reading, writing, and listening lessons.

This, at least to me, is unsustainable.

There are going to be a lot of days where I won't have the time, capacity, or drive to do much learning.

Often I want to change what I'm doing. Instead of continuing forward, I might want to brush up on speaking or revise previous words etc.

With duolingo, the only requirement is that I learn for at least a 3-minute lesson each week. And I don't even need to do a lesson, I could choose that time to review a previous one for example.

Encouragement to Learn

You might think that a minimum of 3 minutes a day is not substantial to learning a language.

Duolingo is gamified, it is full of these little jingles, and animations, that hit your brain right in the dopamine pathway. It's addictive, and that's a good thing.

It encourages you to keep going, to motivate yourself to do more. I end up spending an average of 10 minutes a day thanks to this. Which is much more manageable than 30 minutes.

Rosetta stone on the other hand is slow and cumbersome. It feels like it takes longer to complete a lesson and often becomes a bore. In everything, from the speed of the animations, to how long it takes to turn on the microphone ....

Overwhelming Pace

When learning, well, anything that involves memory, the best way to do it is not to overdo it. You need to be constantly going back and reinforcing old ideas and terms.

Rosetta stone throws waay too much in your face too quickly, and then because it did so much, it can't take the time to allow you to go back and revise.

One day, I 'learned' about 25 words and 3 new grammar rules in a few minutes, most not related to eachother in the sense you could put them in a sentence. Then the next 3 days I did not see most of those words come back up again until suddenly I get introduced to more words.

Duolingo has done something similar, but it did it in a better way. When you're exposed to a barrage of new words, either:

A) It's made very clear that you don't need to remember the word right now, and it's just to pad sentences into looking "normal"

B) Exercises involving that word are repeated, again and again, so you are sure to remember it

When duolingo threw me into the deep end, it was often productive. I learned how to read sentences and piece together their meaning via context clues - even if I didn't know every word in the sentence.

Unclear Instructions, Help, and Translations

I'm certain that a baby could use duolingo. It's not too difficult to understand what the app is asking you to do.

Not just that, but duolingo offers a lot in lieu of translations, they incorporate translations in five ways:

Exercises asking you to translate phrases in Spanish into English

Exercises asking you to translate phrases in English into Spanish

After you answered a question in Spanish, your answer will be translated into English

You can tap/click on a word in English to reveal its translation

You can tap/click on a word in Spanish to reveal its translation

The first two are common ways in which duolingo tests your knowledge, or introduces new concepts to you. The middle one is a way of giving you conformation "oh good I said what I meant".

The last two act as hints, to be used when you're struggling or decipher a specific word's meaning.

Rosetta stone, on the other hand, does not offer any translation aid. In fact, there are no translations involved at all in the app.

Not just that, but in the 10 days I've used rosetta stone, I did not see a single English word within lessons at all (of course the app's interfacing and menus use English).

So how do you learn Spanish? Via images.

Now, given that the app's goal is to teach natural language acquisition, it makes sense. Because it prevents the ability for your mind to immediately back-translate new phrases and words.

The disadvantage is that it prevents the ability for your mind to immediately back-translate new phrases and words, a rather crucial step in learning a new language I'd argue.

Oh, and, using images only is severely limited when it comes to teaching you words that are:

Dynamic verbs (e.g. running)

Abstract verbs (e.g. want)

Abstract words in general (e.g. is, this, that)

Prepositions and tense

Adverbs

Abstract nouns or adjectives

Most grammar rules

This is probably the straw that broke the camel's back. Especially because there's no way to confirm that what you think a word means is what it actually means (as there are no translations).

Pricing

Duolingo is free, and has a 2 week free trial of its premium version (I recommend subscribing to premium). This allows you to try the app, and pull out if you don't want to learn the language or want to switch.

Rosetta stone charges you upfront for 3 months of use. No trial, no nothing.

Not to mention that super duolingo is less expensive than basic rosetta stone, on a per-month basis.

Using two apps is just a bad idea

Surprisingly, using two apps is harder than one. Especially when both aren't equally flexible to time.

The problem isn't that they teach you different words at different rates ... I was learning approximately the same amount (outside of rosetta stone affomentionedly blasting me with new words).

The problem was that it becomes a bit overwhelming with the time and brainpower requirements.

It felt like rosetta stone was a time sink, preventing me from using duolingo more often and learning more productively. So I stopped using rosetta stone after the first 10 days.

Still won't get back that money though ...

What Have I learned?

Alright, so now for what I've actually learned.

Grammar

Generally I've learned a few decent grammar rules that are different to english. For example:

Grammatical gender is a thing, and more prevalent

Adjectives come after a noun

Está and es both mean the same thing, "is", but one describes temporary properties and the other describes static qualities

There are several words like "well", "too", "you", "I" that have several translations in Spanish

Verbs change based on what the subject is

Diacritics exist ...

Of course, things are slightly easy because I don't need to learn a different word order. It's still SVO like in English.

Really what throws me off the most is the fact that adjectives come after the word. That and the many different ways you can say "you" or "I". Other than that I've got a lot of grammar under control.

Currently I have not actually learnt tense in Spanish. But I will, actually tomorrow probably.

Other than that, gender is difficult to learn. Mainly because you cannot always use the "ends in a" vs. "ends in o" rule. For example you say el agua instead of la agua.

Words

There are many words in Spanish that are very similar in English, about 50% of them.

Because the amount of words I have learnt are small, I will list them, all! Which will be a great learning exercise for me.

Do not expect me to spell every word correctly - I can't even spell in English correctly without spellcheck.

Common Phrases (or components of phrases) Hola; Adiós; Gracias; De nada; Disculpe; Dónde; Qué; Por favor; Lo siento; Buenos días; Buenas noches; Como estás; Qué tal; Bienvenido; Vamos

Short/Simple Words Es/eres/soy, está/estás/estoy, ese, este, mi, yo, tú, tu, para, de, o, a, y, demasiado, bueno, hoy, un/una, el/la, él/ella, ellos/ellas, en, muy, aquí, sí, no

Verbs (in 3rd person form) Corre, lee, escribe, quiere, paga, compra, bebe, come, necesita, nada, tengo/tiene, habla, vive

Adjectives Azul, rojo, verde, marrón, gris, elegante, bonito, caro, cómoda, barato, bueno, inteligente, grande, cerrado, favorita, diferente

Nouns (Food) Pan, agua, leche, manzana, naranja, queso, huevo, tomate, carne, pescado, jugo, café, sándwich, hamburguesa, ensalada, chocolate

Nouns (People/Pets) Persona, niño/niña, mujer, hombre, hijo/hija, esposo/esposa, hermano/hermana, padre, madre, abuelo/abuela, gato, perro

Nouns (Places/Vehicles) Aeropuerto, hotel, hospital, restaurante, baño, banco, tren, autobús, carro, bicicleta, casa, calle, tienda, supermercado

Nouns (Apparel) Ropa, camisa, camiseta, reloj, cinturón, vestido, falda, chaqueta, abrigo, zapatos, pantalones, sombrero

Nouns (Objects) Vaso, taza, mesa, maleta, regalo, reserva, dinero, boleto, teléfono, pasaporte, cartera, videojuego

Other (Countries/Languages) Español, Inglés, Francia, España, Australia, America, Argentina

That should be about it. Obviously, some words in Spanish are direct translations in English, e.g. Australia, hospital, chocolate.

Pronunciation

I included them because while they are spelt the same, they may still be pronounced slightly differently.

Spanish is slightly easier in terms of pronunciation in the sense that vowels (without diacritics) are always pronounced the same way. This is why diacritics appear - as to tell a speak when to pronounce them differently.

Diacritics are always in the form of the uptick, á é í ó ú, with the only exception of ñ. Which genuinely changes how the n is pronounced.

For example, baño is pronounced "bahnyo" (depending on your own accent the h there may not be needed).

Conclusion

So, I'll be switching to exclusively using duolingo. I do intend on maintaining the streak for as long as possible, as at least it keeps me motivated for the rest of the day.

Outside of that, things are going well! I'm planning on surprising my grandmother with my newfound Spanish skills much earlier, by Christmas. Because I am afraid she might not be around by next year, depending on her health.

My next post will be at ... maybe 60 days? There'll be less information in the next post because there's less stuff to talk about.

#language #learning languages #learning spanish #spanish

[written-in-knife]

What their Devilgrams look like

Before and after you start dating (All brothers)

CW: None, but I do swear casually.

A/N: I wrote this in about an hour in a feverish panic. I don’t even know what inspired it, I just started writing and it happened. I think I may have been possessed. Enjoy lmao

Lucifer

12M followers

Before

There's nothing here but a couple months old pictures of rare bottles of Demonus.

If you go over into the tagged pictures, however, there are many pictures of him from Lord Diavolo's account.

They're all candid-- from parties and meetings and long nights in the office doing paperwork-- and he hates all of them but he can't get Diavolo to delete them.

Diavolo has at least an extra ten million followers that are only there for Lucifer's pictures.

After

Still pretty barren tbh

Occasionally he'll post a picture of TWO glasses of Demonus, your hand wrapped around one of them.

And every year on your birthday, he posts his favorite picture of you since your last birthday with a simple Happy Birthday message. It's very sweet, his fans go wild for it.

Mammon

411.3M followers

Before

He posts once a day at least.

Selfies at the casino, pictures of the piles of grimm he was counting, BTS photos from his modeling gigs, sneak previews of his next photoshoot release, goofy pictures of his brothers fucking around, upside down selfies from when he's hanging from the ceiling, ect.

He and Asmo do a lot of Devilgram shoots together when they aren't at each other's throats

After

He still posts the usual once per day. And then on top of that, he posts a new picture of you every day. Most of them are candid, some of them are posed while you wear his jacket or sit in his chair at a shoot, and the rest are selfies with him.

The captions are usually just a full paragraph of absolute simp behavior that get replaced five minutes later with some string of emojis or teasing you about your facial expression

But his fans definitely screenshot the original captions and they get circulated for weeks with everybody freaking out about how sweet it is.

Shit quickly becomes a meme. "If my mans doesn't talk about me like Mammon talks about MC, I don't want him."

Leviathan

203M followers

Before

He doesn't post every day, but he does post multiple times a week.

It's mostly sewing progress on his cosplays, screenshots of games he's gotten 100% of the achievements in with reviews as the caption, anime screencaps with reviews, pictures of manga pages with reviews, pictures of the line he's been waiting in for ten hours for merch followed by a picture of the merch and a review, girl group album art with reviews, and memes. Oh and Henry 2.0, of course. There's literally NEVER a picture of his face. If you're lucky, you'll see his fingers while he holds open the manga.

Another one that can only be seen in the tagged photos.

His fans don't really care that much tho? Honestly, most of his following there specifically because they trust his reviews.

After

Nothing changes for a long time. Seriously, y'all have to be dating for at LEAST eight months before he even mentions you on his Devilgram.

The first thing he posted was a picture of you in front of his fish tank wearing the Henry costume from the play Simeon put on with the caption "my Henry's." His fans lost their absolute MINDS.

He doesn't post pictures of you often because why should he share you with his followers? You're his, they don't need to see. But when he does, it's mostly in cosplays he's made or waiting in line with him for some release. It’s very cute.

Satan

139.8M followers

Before

Posts when he remembers to. Which isn't often. Multiple times a month, no more than twice a week.

A white woman's instagram

Seriously, it's a lot of pictures of cups of tea, and the cats in the garden, and piles of books. Everything is set up to be super aesthetically pleasing for the pictures. Occasionally he'll post a picture of Belphegor setting up a prank for Lucifer. Of course, it's not posted until after the prank happens, he can't risk Lucifer finding out early. The captions are all book quotes. Every time. Without fail. If he posts a picture of a book cover, he may also add a review of the book. The only time you see his face is if it's a selfie of him sipping tea or a cat is standing on his shoulders.

After

He definitely posts at least twice a week now.

The content doesn’t change much, but now you're there too! Petting cats or pouring tea or curled up in a chair reading a book he recommended. He'll also post pictures from date nights, selfies you took of the two of you on his phone. All still very aesthetically pleasing. He'll also post videos of you helping set up pranks, him narrating what's being set up and what's supposed to happen when it goes off with you and Belphie snickering quietly and shushing each other.

It's all very wholesome actually. 10/10

Asmodeus

450M followers

Before

Posts twice a day, every day. It's Asmo, what did you expect?

Thirst trap central! It's not every post, but shit is it almost! Risque photos in lingerie and tiny outfits, but also super glamorous pictures in frighteningly intricate dresses and suits. It's a lot of selfies and at home photoshoots. He promotes his favorite skincare and makeup lines. He also does a lot of BTS for his modeling jobs, selfies with the crew at whatever shoot he's at or the staff at the massage place or the nail salon, and a surprising amount of selfies with his brothers. (the reason Levi and Lucifer have any pictures of themselves at all)

Every picture is absolutely perfect and he will retake them as many times as he needs to make sure they are. He has the most followers on Devilgram. Again, it's Asmo.

After

As soon as you start dating, Devilgram knows. Hell, his followers might've found out before Lucifer did.

You're in at least 75% of his pictures. If you don't want to be in the risque ones, that's totally alright, but if you do?? Holy shit does he love those pictures. And so do his followers! At first, you were always just right beside him in his pictures, just as done up and flawless as he always is. But after roughly a year, it starts slowly changing. Eventually, a lot of his photos focus more on you than him, more often than not they’re candids where you aren't done up. You're just wearing sweatpants and playing on your phone in the common room. Those are his favorite pictures. He thinks you're perfect all the time, and he loves sharing you with the world.

Another one to become a meme after a mirror selfie of the two of you where he's just staring directly at you instead of in the mirror. "IF MY MANS DON’T LOOK AT ME LIKE ASMO LOOKS AT MC, I DO NOT WANT HIM."

Beelzebub

426.4M followers

Before

He has more followers than Mammon, and Mammon is furious about it. He only posts like once a week, if even.

You'd think he'd post pictures of food. You'd be wrong. If he did that, he'd be hungry every time he looked at his Devilgram, and he doesn't want that.

No, the reason he has so many followers is because he's the one posting all the candid shots of his brothers. Doesn't matter what they're doing, he's snapping a picture and posting it on Devilgram. He loves his brothers very much. He'll also just dump a bunch of pictures on there at once, it's never just one at a time, which is part of why he only posts once a week.

There's also some pictures he reposts from the RAD newspaper of Fangol matches, group pictures of his team, action shots of him. Those blow up real quick.

They also never have captions

After

Uh-oh, simp page! He very quickly becomes an MC simp page. He still takes candids of his brothers but for every one of them, there's two of you.

Across the table during a dinner date? Done. Getting ready to go watch one of his Fangol matches? Absolutely. Cutting Mammon down from the chandelier? He only posted that once and it got you in trouble, so he doesn't post those anymore :(

His favorites are pictures of you and Belphie napping in his bed.

They do have captions now! It’s a single heart emoji and people lose their minds about it.

Belphegor

22M followers

Before

He posts once a month, if that, and it's always incomprehensible.

It's usually something similar to that one canon selfie of him with bedhead, with some wild caption about a dream he had. Never makes any sense, but when has that ever stopped him? When it's not that, he's posting super high quality pictures of the stars with long explanations about the stories behind the constellations.

His tagged pictures are a lot of him sleeping in weird places, provided by Beel and Mammon. The one that got the most traction was when Mammon posted a video of opening up the cupboard under the sink in Asmo's bathroom to find Belphie curled up underneath. It was both adorable and hilarious.

After

Not much changes, actually.

He posted a picture of you dead asleep cuddling his cow pillow, which also had some incomprehensible dream recap, but that was about it.

What changed the most was his tagged pictures, which his fans go bonkers for. Now, not only it is him sleeping in weird places, you're also in those weird places! He's always got his arms locked around you so you don't fall off or try to leave while half asleep and not remembering where you are. Under the piano, on the kitchen counter, balanced on a branch of the tree in the yard, squished under one of the desks in the student council rooms. Mammon is getting a lot of content out of the two of you.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me hcs #knifes hcs #mine #gender neutral mc #gn!mc