#but my music taste 😫

[awlumii]

i be choosin the wrong music to listen to on my way to work cause i really be feelin myself, girl i can't dance in public, what da hell

#[ 🗣— chit chat! ] #beyonce homecoming is dangerous #i already got big hair people can SEE ME #i look like a damn fool i just know it #but my music taste 😫

[katsettee]

Within one day the playlist that I dump random tiktok songs into daily got 51 followers and now I’m embarrassed cause that means at least 51 people now know of my wild mix of mainstream and fucking weird music tastes/combinations.

Also it’s a goddamn shadowpeach playlist 💀💀

#who is responsible for this #literally how did yall find me #my spotify name and the name of the playlist are so stupid too #literally how #aint no way #im embarrassed now its not even entertaining #i did a spit take because IN ONE DAY?? ARE YALL SERIOUS #suddenly this is no longer a safe space #shit do i have to make it a not crazy rollercoaster of a playlist now? #nah im not gonna #yall followed it #you gotta deal with my bs #51 isnt a lot by any means but this is my music taste we’re talking about #that shit is embarrassing #I KNOW you can private playlists #but my friends listen to my playlists #I DID THINK YALL WOULD TOO 😫😫 #%70 is really just from tiktok thoug #music #Spotify

[haobinist]

“oh I listen to everything haha” mfs when you open their last fm:

#k-pop. kpop. korean. pop. #my music taste is so diverse 😫 #benji.txt

[nvrsaidiwasinurcloset]

Can you write about Ethan fucking reader in missionary and he sees the bulge in her tummy everytime he thrusts inside her and he's just absolutely feral, pressing down on it with his hand to feel himself up in there😵‍💫 pretty please with a cherry on top

HI! Okay, I literally just thought of something along these lines YESTERDAY before I got this request. I was hoping someone would want something like this written. Thank you, and I hope you like it💕

In Too Deep - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

This contains SMUT - Minors DNI

Summary: Ethan fucks you so hard that he notices something knew about the way you take him.

Contains: Fluff, sexting?, Oral - f!receiving, p in v, rough sex, dom!-ish Ethan, after care. (If I missed anything let me know:)

A/N: Fucking LOVED writing this. There's just something about rough Ethan that just feels so right to write.

Ethan was trying to torture you…at least that’s what it felt like. He’d been holding out on sex for a few weeks, and as bad as you tried, he was always denying your advances. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to do it, because he was dying to touch you, but he didn’t want your relationship to be more sexual than anything.

While you were at a random frat party with your friends, he’d started to think that he’d made you wait long enough. He was talking with Chad on the other side of the room as you sat with Tara and Anika, sipping on your drink. You barely heard your phone chime over the loud music, and when you checked it, you saw you had a text from Ethan. You looked over to him as he smiled before you checked the message.

Ethan: You look beautiful tonight🩷

You blushed a little as you read his text and started to type your response when the three dots indicating that he was typing again popped up at the bottom of the screen.

Ethan: I can’t wait to take you back to my place and get you out of those clothes

Ethan: I can’t wait to taste your pussy😏

Your eyes grew wide as you tried to keep your composure. You knew your cheeks were heating up as you glanced over to him again. You watched him lock his phone and jump back into the conversation with Chad.

“You okay?” Anika asked, as you quickly flipped your phone so she couldn’t see the screen.

“Yeah, I’m good. I think I might go home soon,” you said, trying to fake-yawn as she took a sip of her drink.

“Aww, that sucks. You sure you have to leave soon?” Tara asked as you nodded, when you felt Ethan’s eyes on you again, your phone dinging in your hand. “That boyfriend of yours won’t stop staring at you.”

“Oh? I didn’t notice,” you lied, before looking up at him. He held up his phone, signaling that you needed to check yours once Anika and Tara stopped looking at him.

Ethan: I thought you’d be begging me to leave by now.🙄

Ethan: Don’t you want me to fuck that perfect pussy?

You took a deep breath as you started to type.

You: You’re killing me😫

You: Meet me outside in 5?

Ethan: Can’t wait, baby😘

You looked over to Tara and Anika again, “Hey, I’m going home. I need to get some sleep, I’m exhausted.”

“Aww, but Mindy’s going to be so bummed that you left before she got here,” Anika frowned as you started to laugh.

“There will be more parties. I’ll see you guys tomorrow, anyway,” you smiled at them as you walked towards the door, Ethan watching your every move.

You started to walk back to his place, your pace slowed as you waited for him to catch up to you. You soon heard footsteps walking quickly behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist.

“Hey, babe,” he said, his sweet tone contradicting the filthy things he was texting you.

“What was that about?” you asked, as he pulled away to walk beside you. He laced his fingers with yours as you started to pick up the pace, both of you desperate to be alone.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day, baby,” he said, looking down to smile at you, “I know you think it hurts a little, but do you think you could try to take all of my cock tonight?”

“Fuck,” you groaned, “Why should I do that when you haven’t fucked me in three weeks?”

“Because I think you’d like it,” his tone was cocky as he thought back to all the times you told him it was too much. “Only if you want to, though.”

“We can try it,” you said, the acing between your thighs getting unbearable. “We need to walk faster.”

“Someone’s needy.”

Once you made it to his complex, he intentionally took his time to unlock the door. You glared at him as he slowly stuck the key into the lock and twisted it.

“Hurry the fuck up,” you pleaded, as he smirked at you. “This isn’t funny.”

“It’s a little funny. I love that you’re so desperate for this,” he smiled, finally opening the door.

Once you walked inside, you grabbed his hand to lead him towards his room. He stopped in the kitchen, his arm stretching out in front of him as you tried to pull him.

“What?” you huffed, noticing a mischievous look on his face as he pulled you back towards him.

“We’ll go to my bed soon, baby. There’s something I really wanted to do first,” he said, as he started to unbutton your jeans. You stepped out of your shoes as he slid your jeans and panties down your legs at the same time.

“What did you have in mind?” you asked, the bottom half of your body bare as he teased your thighs with his fingertips.

“I want you to sit your pretty ass up on the counter so I can eat your pussy,” he smirked, his hands going to your hips.

“Oh, okay,” you smiled, placing your arms on the counter and pushing yourself up onto it.

He spread your legs and ran his fingers over your soaked pussy, the feeling making you whimper.

“Please don’t tease me,” you begged, as he chuckled at your words.

He leaned in and gently sucked your clit into his mouth, before his tongue started to flick it.

“Shit,” you gasped, your breath hitching in your throat at the feeling. “Just like that, baby.”

He alternated between the flicking and swirling his tongue against your sensitive bundle of nerves, your legs starting to twitch at how good he was making you feel. Your pussy was dripping with your arousal, making it easy for him to slide two fingers into you at once with ease.

“Oh my god,” you whimpered, as he slid them all the way inside of you. He started to angle them just right after a couple minutes of thrusting them to stretch you out. “Fuck, baby,” you gasped, as he started to hum against your clit.

His fingers were starting to coax your orgasm closer to the edge, your legs starting to jolt as your whines got louder.

“You’re gonna make me cum. I’m so close,” you moaned out, as he started to hit that spot inside of you a little harder. Your hand went to his hair, wanting him to keep his attention on your clit as your pussy started to flutter around his fingers. “Yes, baby!” you cried out, your hips involuntarily bucking against his fingers as that wave of euphoria washed over you.

He worked you through it, before he pulled away with a smirk.

“Did that feel good, babe?” he asked, as you nodded your response. You were already so fucked out from his fingers that you couldn’t even imagine how you’d react once he actually fucked you. “Let’s go to my room.”

He helped you get off the counter, his hands going to your hips as your wobbly legs threatened to give out. He walked you to his room and helped you take off your shirt and bra, before he pushed you back on the soft comforter. You watched him unbuckle his belt and unbutton his jeans, before sliding them, along with his boxers, down his legs. You got a little nervous at his size, and he could tell as he walked to his nightstand to grab a condom.

“Just relax, baby. If it hurts, I’ll stop. Okay?” he said, trying to ease your anxiety as he crawled on top of you.

He slid into you inch by inch, stopping when he had another left to go. He thrusted what he knew you could take, not wanting to rush it. You were moaning underneath him as your hands went to your breasts, squeezing them as he started to move a little faster. You were getting so into it that your legs hooked around the back of his thighs, pulling him as far in as he could go.

“Oh shit,” you mewled, your thoughts clouded as he slowed down a little. He wanted to make sure you were okay, but once you started whining because he wasn’t going fast enough, he sped back up.

“You’re taking my cock so fucking well,” he groaned, watching your face. You started to babble, your words making no sense as he praised you. “I knew you could do it.”

“Mhm,” was all you could get out as he leaned back to watch the way your tits jiggled as he fucked you. That’s when he noticed it.

“Fuck, baby,” he said, running his hand along the bulge his cock was causing on your lower tummy with each thrust. “Does that feel good?” you nodded, your eyes pinched shut as he started to go faster. “And to think you’ve been holding out on me this whole time. You’re taking my whole fucking cock right now,” he growled, as he started to press down on the spot where the tip of his cock kept bulging out. “I’m so fucking proud of you.”

Your whimpers were teetering on the edge of cries as your eyes started to water, but it didn’t hurt. It felt so good, his pace speeding up even more as he continued to press down on you.

“Cumming,” you choked out, unable to say anything else.

He reached down to circle your clit with his fingers, making your orgasm even more intense. He kept watching your tummy, desperate to run his hands over it again as he fucked you through your orgasm, your pussy clenching him so tight that he knew he wouldn’t last much longer.

Once you started to go limp, your eyes were hazy as you smiled at him. He started to pound into you, his hand pressing down on your tummy.

“That’s it, fucking take it,” he said, as you moaned out at the feeling. “I need you to be louder, baby.”

You did as he said, but it wasn’t fake by any means. You’d barely come down from your orgasm before he started to send you into another one, your hands gripping the sheets to the point that your knuckles were starting to hurt.

You didn’t give him any warning before your pussy clenched him so tight that he groaned out, your whole body shaking underneath him as you got lightheaded from the intensity of it.

“I’m..fuck. Gonna cum,” he finally got out, completely drunk off your pussy as he released into the condom. He pulled out and relaxed his weight on you as he tried to catch his breath. Your hands went to his hair, your nails scratching his scalp as you started to drift off to sleep.

“Hey, baby?” he asked, leaning up to look at you. “Are you okay?”

You nodded your response, too tired to say anything.

“I know the perfect thing for you,” he said, lifting off of you and running to the bathroom.

You soon heard the water running in his large tub as your eyes started to open. You wanted to get up to meet him in the bathroom, but you knew the odds of you falling to the floor the second you stood up were pretty high.

After the water was shut off, he walked back into his room to get you.

“I need you to come with me,” he smiled sweetly as he helped you up.

He led you down the hall, the dim flickering light cast against the wall making you confused until you walked in and saw a bubble bath surrounded by candles.

“How’s this for after care?” he joked, as he helped you get in. He got in, too, pulling your back to him as he wrapped his arms around you.

“This feels so nice,” you said, the hot water relaxing your body.

“Oh, I see someone got their voice back,” he said with a laugh, “You sure you’re okay? That wasn’t too much?”  

“No…I’ll probably be a little sore in the morning, but it didn’t hurt. It felt really good,” you said, as he leaned down to kiss the back of your head. “You’ve never made me cum that quick back-to-back like that.”

“I could literally see every single thrust in your tummy,” he groaned, missing the sight already.

“RIP to my cervix,” you joked, as he laughed. “I think we should do that again soon.”

“I want to give you plenty of recovery time. I was so deep,” he said, rubbing his hands along your lower stomach. “After this, do you want to cuddle and watch a movie?”

“I’d like that…after we disinfect your kitchen counter.”

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #scream smut #ethan landry smut #scream #smut

[angelltheninth]

I would like to request Harley Quinn, Selina Kyle and Diana prince and facesitting (them doing it to reader) if you write this it would literally make my wlw heart beat out of my chest 😫

Hopefully your heart is okay after this one Anon.

Pairing: Harley Quinn, Selina Kyle, Diana Prince x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, face sitting, cunnilingus, praise, dirty talk, clit stimulation, fingering, teasing, restraints

A/N: I rarely get to write for these characters so I hope I do them justice.

Harley teases you a lot when you tell her you want her to ride your face. When you stick your tongue out she pulls back, your frustration building, tasting her but barely. Even if you were to pull her on top of you and make her hold still she'd find a way to wiggle, to deny you a while longer. She does want this just as much as you but she likes it when you put in the extra effort too, it makes her feel special when you moan against her pussy, almost as if addicted to her taste and the way moves on top of you.

"That's not all ya got sugar, I know ya can do better than that. I'm this close to ya and ya won't chase me? I'm very disappointed. And after all that work I put in to get you off minutes before. Hm, that's better, there we go, pull me down on top of you, give me that tongue. Yes, right there, ya know just how to work a girl up."

Selina rides your face with a lot of enthusiasm. She's got hips that never give out, she could ride you all night if you're willing to spend the next day with your jaw aching. Background music is always a must with her, she moves her hips to it, hands down her body, her thighs, grabbing your hands, intertwining your fingers with hers to have something to hold on to. Yes her claws can leave marks but that's a small price to pay when you get to suck her clit until she comes all over your face.

"Give me your hands darling, I want to hold you while I ride you. I can feel your smile, is it such a surprise that I'm a romantic? I can be very good you know. With the right incentive. I can also return the favor if you do a good enough job. Why not make it a contest? See how many licks it gets me to make you squirt. Good girl, I love a challenge."

Diana has to be very careful when she sits on your face because she can literally crush you with her thighs. You often tell her that it'd be nice to die that way but she doesn't think it's that funny. Because you always insist on pulling her down she's taken a habit of restraining you with her lasso. It also makes you a lot more honest, so she doesn't have to worry about you trying to overexert yourself. She's also the kind that will turn away from you and ride you while fingering you, she finds it much more enjoyable when she can feel you too.

"We talked about this before love, I can't fully sit down. Now, now, you don't have anything to complain about. Will another finger shut you up? Do you want to feel full? Love you when you're honest with me. Don't you slack off either, I want to feel your mouth on me, go as fast as you want, you know I can handle it."

#dc comics x reader #harleen quinzel x reader #selina kyle x reader #diana prince x reader #harley quinn x reader #catwoman x reader #wonder woman x reader #dc comics imagine #dc comics headcanons #dc comics smut #dc comics x female reader #harley quinn smut #catwoman smut #wonder woman smut #x female reader

[dear-bunnyboo]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐄: 𝐈𝐆 𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄 || 𝐉𝐎𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐖

important note: my face claim will be madison beer but you can imagine whoever you desire. also the songs mentioned are not all technically all madison’s i will be incorporating other songs from other artists.

all the pictures seen below are not mine, however they were edited by yours truly. credits to the owners.

happy new year, my loves! 🎉🎊🍾 not the season we wanted, however, I know for a fact that the next one will be our comeback season!!! Hope this makes you guys happy even if for a little while.

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Joe Burrow x Singer!Reader / Brief Ex!Jack Hughes x Singer!Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You decided to go live… your fans are nosy, Joe is noisy.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: cursing, social media, media, hate comments, ig live comments, fluff, mentions of cheating ex, fluff, more fluffiness, tooth rotting moments, Joe Burrow being a simp, established relationship

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 || 𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 || 𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐜. 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 || 𝐍𝐇𝐋 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐲/𝐧_𝐲/𝐥/𝐧 started a live video.

You lounged on a plush couch in the heart of your stylishly decorated living room. Soft, ambient lights adorned the space, casting a warm glow on tasteful decor that bore witness to your numerous achievements. The room emanated a sense of comfort and sophistication, a reflection of your own laid-back yet refined taste.

Clutching your phone, you felt the familiar anticipation as she initiated an Instagram live session. Excitement filled the air as you looked into the camera, ready to connect with your fans after a hiatus from such spontaneous interactions. The room, a blend of neutral tones and vibrant accents, served as the perfect backdrop for you to share a slice of your life.

The subtle hum of background music added to the ambiance, enhancing the sense of ease that permeated the room.

You leaned back against the plush cushions, your eyes fixed on the phone's camera. "Hello, I’m gonna wait for people to come before starting.”

𝐟𝐚𝐧1: HELLOOOO QUEEENB!!!&3)373

𝐟𝐚𝐧2: MISS THING!? ARE MY EYES DECEIVING ME OR ARE U LIVE RN!??

𝐟𝐚𝐧3: y/n I love you 🩷🩷🩷

𝐟𝐚𝐧4: hello from Italy 🇮🇹

𝐟𝐚𝐧5: Omg! It’s been a while since you’ve been live 🥹🩵

“It's been a while, hasn't it? I don’t usually do lives but a lot of you guys have been asking me to, so… here I am.” You giggled.

The room feels cozy, with the soft glow of lights creating a warm ambiance. You can't help but smile as the viewer count rises steadily.

𝐟𝐚𝐧6: girl you look good 😫

𝐟𝐚𝐧7: 🧡🧡🧡

𝐟𝐚𝐧8: y/n you have no business looking so good like that at home.

𝐟𝐚𝐧9: are you making new music?

𝐟𝐚𝐧10: come to japan!!

Questions flood in, ranging from music updates to personal anecdotes. "Ah, someone asked about new music. You know I'm always working on something. I've got a few surprises up my sleeve, so stay tuned for that."

𝐟𝐚𝐧11: what’s your favorite genre?

𝐟𝐚𝐧12: where is y/bf/n?

𝐟𝐚𝐧13: talk about your breakup with Jack.

𝐟𝐚𝐧14: do you still watch Hockey?

𝐟𝐚𝐧15: GIRL WE NEED YOUR SKINCARE ROUTINE ASAP!!

𝐟𝐚𝐧16: what’s your songwriting process?

The chat scrolls rapidly, and you pick a question about your music preferences. "Favorite genre at the moment? Honestly, it changes all the time, but lately, I've been vibing with some indie and acoustic stuff.”

As more questions pour in, ranging from songwriting inspiration to behind-the-scenes moments, you share glimpses of your creative process. "Songwriting is such a personal journey. It could be a fleeting emotion, a random moment, or even something a fan shares. Inspiration can come from anywhere, really."

“How fast can you write lyrics?” You read in the comments.

“Uhm, it depends. Sometimes I get a wave of ideas just flowing. But there are also times where I get stuck and it takes forever for me to continue… it really does depend. But the fastest song I’ve written is far, has to be Selfish and Reckless. I write those two back-to-back in about three, four hours.”

𝐟𝐚𝐧17: I bet it’s easier to write when you have A LOT of things to say.

𝐟𝐚𝐧18: can you say hello to my cousin, Annie?

𝐟𝐚𝐧19: pineapples on pizza? yes or no?

As the questions continued pouring in, you found yourself engrossed in the virtual conversation. Little did you know, the front door to your home had swung open, announcing the arrival of your boyfriend, Joe, fresh from hanging out with his friends.

The comments section, ever vigilant, caught the subtle sounds of the door and began buzzing with curiosity.

𝐟𝐚𝐧20: Did anyone else hear that? Is someone there?

𝐟𝐚𝐧21: is it y/bf/n? I hope it’s her, I love when they do lives together.

𝐟𝐚𝐧22: girl are you being robbed?

𝐟𝐚𝐧23: I don’t think she heard.

𝐟𝐚𝐧24: SOMEONE JUST ENTERED YOUR HOUSE MISS THING?!!!

Your fans, always quick to pick up on details, speculated about the unexpected noise.

Your eyes met Joe's from his place by the door, and a smile crept across your face. Ignoring the barrage of questions flooding the comments about the mysterious door sound.

As he moved closer to you, you moved the camera away from the two of you as he leaned down and placed a kiss on your lips, “Hey, baby.” He mutters against your lips.

“Hello.” You whispered, pecking him one more time before moving away, facing the camera back to you as Joe walked towards the sofa, placing his things on it.

𝐟𝐚𝐧25: GOOD GOD IS IT JOE? AND DID I HEAR KISSING NOISES?!

𝐟𝐚𝐧26: she was just kissing someone right now 🥲

𝐟𝐚𝐧27: HI JOEEEE💕💕

𝐟𝐚𝐧28: imagine if she was cheating on Joe like she did with Jack and got caught on live 😂

𝐟𝐚𝐧29: OH ITS DEF JOE, DO U SEE HER SMILE 🥹

𝐟𝐚𝐧30: Who was that?

"Who was that?" you read from the comments, a mischievous twinkle in your eyes. With a playful grin, you responded, "Santa." Giggles escaped your lips as you teased your online audience, fully enjoying the mysterious atmosphere you had unintentionally created.

Off-camera, Joe's puzzled expression deepened as he tried to make sense of your comment. Unaware of the ongoing live session, he exchanged a confused look with you, silently asking for an explanation.

𝐟𝐚𝐧31: oh they’re messing with us.

𝐟𝐚𝐧32: Y/N! STOP GATEKEEPING JOSEPH!!

𝐟𝐚𝐧33: Tell Joe I said hi.

𝐟𝐚𝐧34: Can you tease your new music?

𝐟𝐚𝐧35: BITCH WHAT DO YOU MEAN SANTA!?

𝐟𝐚𝐧36: “I saw mommy kissing, Santa Claus.” 😉

"Can you tease us about your new music?" you read from the comments, a gleam of excitement in your eyes. With a teasing smile, you responded, "Well, I'm planning on releasing an album soon." A collective wave of comments flood in your live as your fans absorbed the thrilling revelation.

The anticipation soared as you continued, "I've poured my heart and soul into this one. Some unexpected collaborations, and a sound that's a departure from what you've heard before. It's a journey, and I can't wait to take it with all of you.”

“That’s a bit of a generic answer.” You laughed as you read that comment.

“Okay, okay, I’m not allowed to talk about it too much as of now but since I love you guys too much… I can say that the vibes for this album would be the complete opposite of my previous one, Teardrops.”

𝐟𝐚𝐧37: EXCUSE ME!? DID SHE JUST CONFIRM A NEW ALBUM COMING SOOONNN!!?

𝐟𝐚𝐧38: HOLY SHIT! YES PLEASE 😍

𝐟𝐚𝐧39: opposite of Teardrops, she’s gonna be in her Lover era. Mark my fucking words.

𝐟𝐚𝐧40: release it now. I dare you to.

The comment section erupted with excitement, fans expressing their anticipation and excitement for the upcoming album. Amidst the flurry of reactions, the domestic sounds from Joe in the kitchen continued, adding a delightful and unintentional layer to the unfolding live session.

Amid the ongoing banter with your fans, the sound of Joe moving around in the kitchen reached the microphone, making a subtle entrance into the live. A clink of glasses and the humming of the refrigerator added a domestic soundtrack to the virtual conversation.

𝐟𝐚𝐧41: what in the hell is going on in your house?

𝐟𝐚𝐧42: IS JOE COOKING?!

𝐟𝐚𝐧43: I don’t think Joe knows how to cook, it’s sounds like he’s building something 💀

𝐟𝐚𝐧44: gurl—

𝐟𝐚𝐧45: I LOVE UUUUUU 😍😍

The comments section buzzed with speculation as your followers eagerly awaited an explanation.

“What’s that noise?”

Maintaining your composure, you chuckled, "Oh, just Santa making himself at home in the kitchen. You know how it is." The playful tone in your voice only fueled the curiosity of your audience, prompting more questions about the mysterious happenings in your house, knowing fully well it’s your boyfriend, Joe.

Joe silently took a seat behind the camera, handing you a glass of wine. A warmth spread across your face as you accepted it, maintaining your live composure. "I couldn’t find the fucking corkscrew to open the new bottle of wine your mom got us," he grunted, unaware of the ongoing live session.

Smiling, you tried to signal him discreetly with your eyes, conveying the message that you were live and to tread lightly on the conversation. "Yeah? Is that why you sounded like you were tearing up the place?" you playfully responded, taking a sip of the wine.

𝐟𝐚𝐧46: IT IS JOE!!!

𝐟𝐚𝐧47: that’s Joe’s voice

𝐟𝐚𝐧48: I wanna see him 🥺

𝐟𝐚𝐧49: HAHAHHA GOD HE’S SO CUTE.

𝐟𝐚𝐧50: he really wanted that corkscrew.

Little did you both know, your fans were going wild as they eavesdropped on this charming and candid exchange. The confirmation that it was indeed Joe from his distinctive voice sent the comments section into a frenzy of excitement.

"Who are you talking to, baby?" Joe asked, still clueless about the live session happening. "I'm live, bubs" you casually replied, flashing him a reassuring smile.

Joe's eyes widened in shock, realizing that your conversation had been broadcasted to an audience. Stunned and not entirely sure what to say, he glanced at the camera, suddenly aware that people were listening in on your cozy, domestic moment.

The fans, now privy to this unexpected revelation, flooded the comments with an enthusiastic mix of emojis and exclamations.

𝐟𝐚𝐧51: DID YALL HEAR HIS VOICE WHEN HE CALLED HER BABY!?)! IM UNWELL.

𝐟𝐚𝐧52: oh to be called by the Joseph Lee Burrow ‘Baby’

𝐟𝐚𝐧53: 🥰🥰🥰

𝐟𝐚𝐧54: BABY AND BUBS. IM SERIOUSLY NOT OKAY.

"Do you wanna say hi?" you asked Joe softly, well aware of his preference for privacy and aversion to attention. Despite his reservations, he entered the frame for your sake, a warm smile on his face.

"Hi," he greeted the camera before gently moving away, respecting his comfort zone.

The comments section erupted with joy, fans expressing their excitement and admiration for Joe's brief appearance.

𝐟𝐚𝐧55: HIIII!!!

𝐟𝐚𝐧56: OH HOT DAMN THAT MAN FINE 🥵

𝐟𝐚𝐧57: oh lawd.

𝐟𝐚𝐧58: good. god.

𝐟𝐚𝐧59: Y/N IS ONE LUCKKY GIRL WHAT THE HELL.

𝐟𝐚𝐧60: hello, Joe 😫

𝐟𝐚𝐧61: he’s so shy, it’s adorable.

As Joe retreated from the camera, you couldn't help but smile at the delightful chaos that ensued. The comments continued to overflow with love and appreciation, turning the live session into an unforgettable and cherished memory for everyone involved.

“It’s my birthday.” You read a comment. “Happy Birthday, love.”

Yawning and rubbing the tiredness from your eyes, you continued reading more comments from your fans. "You're tired," Joe observed, his voice lower but still audible to the viewers.

You shook your head, looking at him with puppy dog eyes, silently asking for permission to stay up a little longer.

Joe gave you a stern look, his voice barely above a whisper, "It's late, pretty girl." His hands appeared in the video, gently removing a strand of hair from your face.

"That's okay," you replied, trying to stifle another yawn. The fans, now witnessing this endearing interaction, flooded the comments with a mix of supportive and playful messages.

𝐟𝐚𝐧62: when will it be my turn 😩

𝐟𝐚𝐧63: COUPLE FUCKING GOALS.

𝐟𝐚𝐧64: it’s confirmed. Burrow is a SIMP.

𝐟𝐚𝐧65: is this too much to ask?

𝐟𝐚𝐧66: “pretty girl.” Goodbye.

"Don't stay up too late, okay?" Joe finally agreed, placing a gentle kiss on your cheek before moving upstairs to get ready for bed.

"Mm hmm," you nodded, acknowledging his concern for your well-being.

The comments section filled with heart emojis and affectionate messages.

𝐟𝐚𝐧67: girl is better than me, cause if Joe Burrow called me a pretty girl and directed me to bed I would in a heart beat.

𝐟𝐚𝐧68: y/n it’s late go to sleep.

𝐟𝐚𝐧69: 💕💕💕💕💕

𝐟𝐚𝐧70: JOE IS THE ABSOLUTE SWEETEST.

As Joe disappeared from the frame, the live session continued, but there was a subtle shift in the atmosphere. The quiet acknowledgment of the bedtime routine added a touch of reality to the virtual interaction, creating a relatable moment that resonated with your audience.

“Now, where were we?” You smiled at the camera.

The warmth of the comments reflected the shared connection between you, Joe, and your fans, making the live session not just about entertainment but about genuine connection and shared experiences.

dividers: @cafekitsune

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @jackkyhughes @h0e4fictionalme-n @queenmendes @rd14 @scoobydoopoo @estapa94 @karmasabitchybitch @literaturelustrr @toterry @fangirl-madz @atticusismybae @stargaryenx @haydee5010 @porter113 @ryiamarie @starrgir1 @flwries @slafgoalskybaby @unsaidjaelinrose @in-my-body-bag @cixrosie @siutforjjmaybank @youn-jo @nobystanderz @bb-swift @buckystwilight @kidrauhlakaperf @kkrenae @catswag22 @hustler-sinner @asparklysoul @kaydesssssssss @97bngchn @dunningz @whiteleoqueen @austinswhitewolf @wickedfun9 @minkyungseokie @boldlypessimistic @utopiakys

ೃ⁀➷ comment or message me to be added to the tag list :) ˚

₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ SUBMIT A REQUESTS AND ASK ME ANYTHING!

: ̗̀➛ requests are always open ♡

-𝐛𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲ఌ

#joe burrow #dear bunnyboo🏹 #theone🏹 #joe burrow x reader #jack hughes #cincinnati bengals #jack hughes x reader #joe brrr #joe burrow x y/n #joe burrow bengals #joeburrow #joe shiesty #joey burrow #angry joe #joey b #joeburrowxfamous!reader #joeburrowxsinger!reader #joe burrow x you #joe burrow x oc #jack hughes x y/n #cheater!jackhughes #cheater!jackhughesxreader #ex!jackhughesxfamous!reader #ex!jackhughes #ex!jackhughesxsinger!reader #ex!jackhughesxreader

[sugasimz]

Vibe Wit Me 🎼〰️🖤|| DECOR DOWNLOAD !!

It took me WEEKS to get the damn gif on tumblr 🙄… then they had the nerve to ruin the quality 😒. ANYWAYS, I’m so happy I made this 🍃. you can get a better look at it on patreon

What I have here for you guys is a decor download really pure on true aesthetic vibes, the second pics are really the inspo. My Idea for this came from when I was young, and my family had moved and we didn’t have a tv at the time. So we watched movies and tv through a projector and it was just the coolest thing to me when I was younger 🥺😫.

These are all songs in my rl music library on Apple Music and are some of my favorite songs, so if you guys have the same music Taste as me I’m sure your love this 💁🏾‍♀️!

Info 🍃.

• A Recolor but I’m not sure you need to mesh 🥴.

• Mesh By @sims-kkb 🎼.

• 37 Swatches (All shown) 🍃.

• Textures Made by Me ( This took me Two Days 🥴).

• It Seems to Be transparent against darker yet see through surfaces and opaque on light surfaces and colors 💁🏾‍♀️🍃.

• Don’t Claim as yours or put behind paywalls aka don’t be a dick or a bitch 😘. (Swtfis)

Also guys let me know if you want more swatches/ songs I will add them for your guys 🤍.

Free Feb 28th 🌸!

Link Here: 🍃

#sims 4 #sims 4 urban sims #sims 4 urban cc #sims urban #urban sims 4 #urban sims #urban cc #black sims cc #sims 4 render #simsofcolor #black simmer #black sims 4 #black sims 4 cc #sims 4 maxis match #sims 4 cc #my sims #sims 4 screenshots #sims 4 custom content #sims 4 urban decor #simblr #sims 4 edit #sims4cc #black sims #sims 4 gameplay #simstagram #sims4 #sims 4 build #the sims 4 #sims 4 story #sims 4 challenge

[lucifertoxics]

pooks whenever you can and if you want, I'm in need of some fluffy cuddling with marcus 😫😫

xx

note 💌: hiii pookie! i was so happy today to see your request that you have no idea so hopefully this mamages to help with your deluluness

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

my princess | marcus lopez arguello

pairing: marcus lopez x reader | genre: established relationship | warning: no warnings <3 | word count: 0.4k

[ BACK TO MASTERLIST ]

Having been alone all his life, Marcus was finding sharing affection to be hard sometimes. Many would consider him a merciless killer, but once you got to know him, he wasn't how you expected him to be once you first met him.

When you and Marcus have met, you never thought that you would see yourself dating him. Once you got to know him and date him, you realised that even if he didn't know how to show affection, he tried his best when it came to you.

Tonight, you were cuddling in his bed. He was listening to the Smiths, his favorite band, while he had his arms wrapped around your waist, holding you tight. You had your arms wrapped around his neck, playing softly with his hair, as you could hear the music from his headphones.

Not long after, he took a cigarette from the packet, in his jacket. Lighting up, he took a drag from it and kissed your forehead. Closing your eyes softly, feeling his faint touch, made you feel butterflies in your stomach. Looking up to him, there was no denying that he looked so calm and relaxed. The two of you would share the cigarette, and this was one of the times. It was one of your traditions, so to say and it reminds you of the night the two of you met.

He loved when you played with his hair, even if he didn't know how to show it properly. From time to time he would kiss your forehead or your cheek, mumbling words or even phrases, such as, "I love you", "my princess" and "don't leave me". Hearing those words made you realise that you would do everything for this boy, that's how much you loved him.

Not long after he said these, you saw his eyes closing and then opening again, trying to keep himself awake, wanting to spend more time with you. Marcus kissed you slowly, still having his arms wrapped around your waist. He tasted like cigarette and mint, which made you melt the second his lips touched yours. You couldn't deny that he knew how to make you feel loved and wanted, even with some simple words.

© LUCIFERTOXICS ⎯ do not repost, translate, plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own.

#marcus lopez arguello #marcus lopez x reader #marcus lopez x you #marcus lopez imagine #marcus lopez smut #writing #marcus x reader #marcus lopez x y/n #deadly class #benjamin wadsworth #mattheo riddle #mattheo x you #mattheoxreader #mattheo x y/n #mattheo x reader #mattheo riddle x you #slytherin boys #slytherin

[virescent-v]

fluffy emily fic where readers having a bad day so emily cuddles on the couch with them and lots of face kisses cause they’re my weakness 😫

Bad Day

A/N: Hi bestie! I hope this fits what you were looking for! Emily would be the BEST with comforting I stg. Thanks for the prompt! Words: 873 Warnings: Uh, none. This is pure fluff. No smut.

If it could go wrong, it has today. 

You started the day quite literally on the wrong side of the bed, and you overslept by an hour. Thankfully, your work wasn’t too upset because you’re never really late, but it still threw off your morning. 

Then, you spilled your hot coffee all over your white shirt on your way back from the break room. You could feel your skin sizzling from the coffee, not hot enough to leave permanent burns, but enough to be uncomfortable and painful. After calming down and using a napkin to soak up what you could, you threw your jacket over your shirt to hide the stain. 

At lunch, you realized you left your salad and soup at home. So, you have a vending machine pop tart and a bag of chips and hope it’s enough to last you until dinner. 

Then, your computer crashed in the middle of your project and you lost everything you’d been working on for the past three hours. 

To finish out the day, you got a parking ticket for parking in the one spot in the entire lot that was open this morning, but apparently was a reserved spot. Thankfully, you didn’t get towed. 

Rush hour traffic meant it took you over an hour to get home. 

You just wanted to eat something, shower, and crash and forget this day happened. 

Opening the door to your place, you could smell the tantalizing aroma of a red sauce and garlic bread. There was faint acoustic music playing, a few candles lit around the room. You dropped all of your stuff at the door, slipped your shoes off, and went further into the house. 

Without shoes, you were able to basically sneak up on your girlfriend, Emily, who was standing at the stove, stirring what you assumed to be sauce. Her hips were lightly swaying to the music from the speakers, an off-tune hum coming from her lips. 

You could feel yourself melting, the stress and weight of the day finally lifting, sending you into a tailspin of emotion. Your lower lip started to tremble, so you brought it between your teeth in a nervous habit to keep it under control. The tears gathering in your eyes spilling over, your sniffles finally alerting your girlfriend that you were home. 

Emily turned to you, a smile on her face before she caught the look on yours. “Baby? What’s wrong?” She asked, putting the spoon down hastily and rushing to your side. Her hands immediately came up, brushing your hair from your face, her thumbs wiping away the few tears that had escaped. 

You tried to talk, to tell her how your day just wasn’t good, but it was like the words were stuck in your throat. You shook your head, frustrated that you couldn’t get it out and frustrated that you were crying. 

Emily, being the amazing profiler she is, shushed you, placing small kisses over your cheeks, the taste of your salty tears not stopping her. 

She quietly led you to the couch, turned on your favorite comfort show, and placed your favorite fuzzy blanket over your lap before disappearing back into the kitchen. You could faintly hear some noises, the sound of a cabinet opening and closing, silverware hitting ceramic plates. 

Your eyes were focused on the tv, but your mind wasn’t really comprehending what was going on in the scene. You could feel yourself slipping into an almost dissociative state, your mind an empty, hazy fog. You were broken from your reverie by Emily’s hand on your knee, a plate of hot food in her other. 

“Eat, love.” 

Getting a strong whiff of garlic, meat, and italian seasonings, your stomach made an appearance with a large growl. You felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. 

Emily laughed lightly, her body turned completely toward you. She pushed more of your hair behind your ear, twirling the ends of it between her fingers. As you ate, she scratched at the back of your neck, a habit of hers you take ultimate comfort in. 

When you finished, she took the plate, heading back into the kitchen. You could hear the sink running, the dishwasher being loaded. You sunk further into the couch, pulling the blanket up around your shoulders. 

Emily came back, lifted up one side of the blanket, pulling your legs across hers, almost settling you in her lap. You put your face on her shoulder, wrapped an arm around her, the feeling of her warmth settling you. 

“Wanna talk about today?” 

You shook your head lightly, as you let out a low, whispered, “later.” 

Emily hummed her acknowledgement, her lips brushing lightly against your temple. You turned your head more towards her, sighing as her lips continued to travel across your face, leaving gentle caresses on your forehead, cheeks, and nose. 

Each press of her lips were so light they almost tickled. It was cute, and intimate, without any pressure of becoming something more. You felt a wave of contentment, love, and happiness wash over you.

Wrapped in Emily’s arms was where you felt the most safe, the most protected, the most at home.  

With Emily, you could never have a truly bad day.

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #virescent v fanfic #ask v! #emily prentiss fanfic #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss fanfiction

[two-red-lungs]

Ok but like I saw your post about wanting more asks about Eddie nsfw scenarios and then I saw you were willing to write for sub! Eddie and I was like😳

Okay but like imagine Eddie just being overstimulated as you ride him. He just looks so out of it and a little in pain, but as you go to get off him he just keeps asking for more. My man is Pussy DRUNK😫 so you just give him what he wants while calling him your sweet prince or good boy.

And like the heat of the moment he just calls you mommy by accident but it’s like HOT- JJSNSBSBSBS UGH JUST MANY THOUGHTS ON BRAIN PLS HEAD FULL OF EDDIE-😖

Oh LORD this ask got me wildin', hold on folks this is gonna be SPOICY: this shit goes out to all my dommes that wanted to fold Munson like a birthday card the second they saw him.

Speak Up (Sub!Eddie x Fem!Reader NSFW)

Summary: You like pushing Eddie to his limits. Coincidentally, he happens to really fucking like being pushed there.

Content: Dom/Sub play, orgasm denial, overstimulation, Eddie pussydrunk hours, derogatory language, mommy kink

Word count: 2.9k

You were... kinda relentless. But by god, was he into it. The drive-in movie was supposed to be a cute date, a quiet evening spent cuddling in his van under a scratchy, smokey blanket and generally just allowing the both of you to act like the world's most cute and cliche couple.

But you were bored. And you could hear his breathing, feel his heartbeat on his warm skin as you leaned against him. So of course the black-and-white slasher projected up on the parking lot billboard took a backseat to you slowly, idly trailing featherlight fingertips up and down Eddie’s thighs, ghosting just barely under the hem of his shirt to feel his soft abdomen.

Soft, Teasing. For hours. And every time he hummed or shifted or adjusted, subtly asking for more, you pulled away as punishment. Leaving him breathing unevenly, staring at the rolling movie credits with his cock pressed hard and painful against the metal zipper of his pants.

You gave him a look. His adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed.

You'd never seen him drive back to his house so quickly, so recklessly. Your nails dragged softly across the denim of his crotch as he screamed down the backroads: his jaw was tight, knowing saying anything meant those fingers flitting away. Poor baby.

And then you spilled into the night, tumbling out of the van, Eddie all over you, sloppy hot and enthusiastic mouth roving your neck and jawline affectionately while you fumbled with the door keys and pulled both of you into the trailer. Attached at the mouths as you bumbled your way down the hallway and into his room.

"Please, please, c'mon." Eddie was already saying. Begging, equal parts aroused and fearful. It had been a few weeks since you'd actually let him cum, after all. The poor man was walking on eggshells, the slightest breeze giving him a half-chub.

It had been fun. Pulling him into the public park bathrooms and putting your lips around his cock, getting him just to the peak and leaving him dry, zipping him back up and making him drop his head onto your shoulder with a pitiful, desperate whine. Letting him rut against your thigh on the bed while you read, the friction enough to feel good, desperately so, but not enough to get him there.

"Behave." You nipped at his lower lip and put two hands on his broad chest, giving him a curt shove that sent him falling ass-backwards onto his messy mattress. You saw the resulting dizzy, toothy smile that followed: he ate this shit up, every time. Getting tossed around, getting felt up. God, the guy fucking thrived on the attention.

How you were ever lucky enough to find someone like him, you'd never know.

You popped a cassette in the player, letting Misfits music rocket through the room. Eddie just looked up at you from his thrown position on the bed, all sprawled limbs and open hope on his oval face, too desperate to even contest your personal taste in music he normally disparaged. 

“You gonna be good?” You asked him, shucking off your jacket, getting up onto the bed between his knees. Hands wrestling with your pants, yanking them down. He nodded, wild mane bobbing. “Gonna do everything I tell you?” Even more enthusiastic nodding.

“Yeah- shit, yeah, I am. I swear.” He couldn’t get the words out fast enough when you rolled your shirt off yourself.

“We’ll see.” You lurched forward, crawling over him, forcing his back even harder against the mattress, until your core was over his hot, kiss-bruised mouth. His pupils blew wide at the sight, entranced. Long, strong fingers twitched at his sides. Waiting to be told what to do. 

“Go on. Eat up.”

“Jesus. Jesus. Okay.” He got out, tongue wetting his lips. Shaky fingers pulled your underwear to the side, and then one of his hands was curling around your thigh and bringing you down against that mouth, against the fluid heat and agile tongue that warmed you with gusto. He licked and sucked and nibbled, flicking expertly against your clit and running the flat of of the dexterous muscle down your slit. 

He felt like sin. So enthusiastic, so greedy to taste you, to feel your weight around his head. You grabbed a handful of his wild hair with a sigh, rocking your hips against his mouth. He groaned into your folds and simply took it, moving in tandem with you even as you ground your clit against his nose and slicked up his chin and cheeks with arousal. 

“Fuck, Eddie, good boy. Good fuckin’ boy.” You huffed. “Finally putting that smart-ass mouth to good use.”

Eddie slurped at you as best he could with your weight bearing down on him, hazily content to let you use him. Gazing, dazed, up at you, chocolate-black eyes glassy with dumbed contentment. 

“You going brainless, baby?” You cooed, heat coiling dangerously tight in your gut at the sight. “Love tasting my pussy that much?”

He hummed out an affirmative mmmmmm, long and low, fingers resettling around your thighs as you rocked against him. Use me, his half-lidded eyes said, use me like a toy. It really was a pity his mouth was preoccupied: you knew he’d be saying all sorts of stupid, pussydrunk things right now if it wasn’t. 

“Love this mouth, baby boy. Love it.” Fuck, you were close. Really, really close. You put both hands on his head, tensing your thighs, using your muscles to ride his saliva-sloppy lips and grind down onto his tongue. “Gonna cum on it. You want that?”

Another mmm, Eddie kneading your thighs hopefully, encouragingly. His rings glittered in the low lamplight.

“Good, fuuuuck- fuck.” Your orgasm ripped through you like lightning, making you clench down around his head. Eddie held his breath, let himself be smothered as you spilled wetness all over him: dribbling down his pale, flushed skin, into his mussed hair.

When you finally lifted up off him him shakily, he took a ragged, heavy inhale. Catching his breath even while a stupid, ditzy smile threatened to split his wet face in two. “Shit.” Was the only word he could summon up.

Like you nearly asphyxiating him had been the best high he’d ever ridden.

Seeing him there, thoughtless and mindless and shiny with your arousal, it fucking did shit to you. This beautiful man rendered brainless from your cunt. “Clothes. Off.” You ground out, hungry and sweaty and wanting more than fucking anything to get that sweet little swollen cock inside of you.

He writhed messily, tangling himself up wildly and kicking off his pants, wrestling with his shirt like it was a public enemy number one before getting to his knees to wriggle out of his underwear. His cock bobbed in the air, weeping and dark.

“Oh, baby.” You breathed. He was so swollen, so cherry-bright, it looked like it hurt. “Fucking desperate for it, aren’t you?”

Eddie let out a shaky, nervous laugh. “Maybe a little.”

You leaned into his personal space, staring down at his cock. “Give yourself a pump for me, sweetheart.”

Eddie wrapped a veined, lithe hand around his own dick, hissing through his teeth when his grip traveled the length: from the crying head to the base nestled in wirey curls, and back up again. Starting to travel back down. 

“I said a pump.” You warned. He whined brokenly. 

“C’mon. Please. Please? Just one more.” He cajoled, voice wobbling. So close to an orgasm he could probably taste it, after waiting for so long. After being so good for you. It probably wouldn’t take very much to make him fly over the edge into oblivion.

“Aww, poor baby.” You cooed. Talking down to him like a child, pulling strands of his sweaty hair away from his face. “Got nothing on your mind but your dick, huh? Can’t think about anything other than how good it feels?” You paused. “Fuck your fist, baby boy. Slow. Real slow.”

“Shit. shit.” He said again and again, complying. Braced with one hand on the mattress, hunched over himself, rolling his hips up into his dry grip. Gasping sharply when the head of his sensitive cock rolled over the warm, smooth metal of his rings. 

“Feel good?”

He licked his lips. “Yeah. Really fucking good.” He shivered when you ghosted hands over his shoulders, his back, watching him pump himself. Pressing occasional soft kisses to his shoulder, his sweat-tacky neck. 

It only took him a minute to press his lips tight, fighting his hazy pleasure, before speaking up. “Gonna cum, angel. Really soon.”

“Don’t.” 

He whined lowly, but didn’t stop fisting his cock.

“Eddie, hands off your dick.”

He let go just before he spilled over, groaning in abject frustration, guttural and low. Gripping handfuls of the sheets while his purple-red cock twitched hopefully, seeking sensation.

“Close one?” You chuckled. He just hung his head, curtain of dark hair obscuring his face. You paused. “Color, baby?”

“Green.” He said quickly. “Green, so green, just... fuck. Really close one.”

“Good job stopping yourself, then. Would’ve been a one-way ticket to a dry month.”

Just the hint of such a cruel punishment had him huffing and flushing. He lifted his sweaty head. Shit, you were so fucking weak for this big doe eyes, those plush lips, the fine dusting of stubble on his jaw. 

“Okay.” You tousled his hair. “Okay, honey. You’ve been so good for me. Lay back.”

Eddie looked like he could cry in relief at your words, letting you guide him onto his back, head nearly hanging off the edge of the bed. The dusting of brown hair across his soft, muscular navel made a direct, tantalizing pathway down to his desperate cock. A dribble of milky precum dripped down its veiny side.

When you swiped it away he jumped, head thumping against the mattress. “Christ. You’re torturing me.”

You grinned. “Kind of the point, baby boy. Good thing you love it so much.”

He brought his own hands to his head, exhaling hard when you rolled the shiny condom down his length. When you gave his cock a few soft tap taps with the flat of your palm, just shy of painful, his abdominal muscle curled and he groaned helplessly. 

“See?” You crooned. “Desperate. Stupid, desperate boy. Going so fucking brainless the second I touch your cock.”

“Fuck, sweetheart.” Eddie groaned, voice absolutely wrecked with arousal.

When you finally sank down on him he looked fucking possessed, back arching and hips stuttering underneath you, face crewing up in incredible pleasure. 

“Shitfuck, angel-” He was gasping as you started to furiously fuck him, hips swiveling relentlessly, cruelly. So fast you knew he wouldn’t be able to stand it. “S-slow down, please, I’m gonna-”

“Don’t cum.” He throbbed inside of you, piercing and burning-hot and perfect, and you knew you were setting him up for failure. He knew it too. You slam slam slammed down onto his narrow hips, the wet sloppy sound of your pussy sheathed around his cock lewd and loud as all hell. “Don’t cum, baby boy.”

He was scrabbling at your legs now, blunt nails hard and terrified, like if he squirmed enough he could evade the tidal wave of pleasure you could see building, spring-coiled, in his form. Terror on his flushed face.

“I can’t, I- I can’t-” He gasped out.

And then Eddie was cumming, cummung for the first time in ages, looking like someone was performing a goddamn exorcism on him, hips thrusting so hard up into you he nearly bucked you off. His eyes practically rolling into the back of his head, pants and groans going completely mute, choked by the orgasm you could only imagine was basically erasing his brain.

You paused on top of him, feeling his cock pulse pulse pulse inside of you, watching his soft, pale chest rise and fall rapidly under your splayed fingers. His eyes were wide, shocked, mouth falling open as he tried to steady his breathing. Trying to recalibrate his systems. 

You gave him exactly fifteen seconds. And then you were back to it, starting to slowly, agonizingly slowly roll your hips on his soft cock. Chasing the phantom sensations of pleasure it shot through you, feeling his soft, warm head rutting against that perfect spot that made your legs turn to jelly.

“Oh god, ah, shitshitshit-” Eddie was back to babbling dumbly but this time it was desperate, overwhelmed and oversensitive, almost agonized. He dug his nails into your legs, teeth clenched and bared, eyes squeezed shut. 

It must have been torture, the overwhelming sensation of your gummy, soft, gushing pussy clamping around his exhausted cock. You didn’t stop, continuing to softly roll over him, his length slipping in and out of your heat uselessly. 

“Aww. Did you think we were done?” You crooned. 

“Fuck, it feels- christ, please, it’s so much-” Eddie sounded like he was in genuine distress. 

All at once you stopped, stomach dropping. “Too much.” You realized. 

He looked like a kicked puppy at your words. “No. No!” Eddie panted out quickly. “No. Keep...keep going.” He paused to swallow, hard. Eyes skating away from yours in shame. “I like it.”

“Oh.” You replied softly. Low heat in your stomach rising, rising, rising until it was a fucking inferno. “Oh baby boy.” You growled. 

All at once you were back to bouncing on him, watching is muscles contract involuntarily at the overstimulation. Watching him shuddering and shaking and biting down so fucking hard on his lower lip to keep himself quiet. Letting you wreck him. Letting you ruin him. Offering himself up to you.

“Such a good fucking boy for me, fuck.” You snarled. You dragged fingernails down his chest, hard: Eddie gasped. You pistoned against him, relentless, grabbing his wrists and tugging them. Making him feel owned. “Willing to do anything to get a little more of my pussy, huh? You love it that much? You that brainless for it?”

All he managed to do was bob his head, letting out a pathetic moan, still shaking. It must have hurt, must feel so good, pleasure and pain in equal portions. He was starting to get hard inside you again. 

“Say it.” You were incensed, obsessed with that broken, useless, sweaty expression on his sweet face. “Say you love it, baby boy.”

“Fuck, mommy-” He whined out. Eddie’s eyes snapped open. He shut his mouth with a clack of teeth against teeth. 

...What? Your domineering hip-rolls slowed. Were you hallucinating? Did he just...?

“Sorry.” Eddie sounded mortified. “Shit, uh. Sorry. Sorry.”

Oh, this guy is all sorts of freaky. Fuck. I love it.

“How long have you wanted to call me that?” You murmured to him. Punctuating your question with a long, forceful roll that pushed him into your wet pussy until his arousal-soaked curls pressed against your clit. 

Eddie opened and closed his mouth a few times, wrists still clutched tight in your hands. 

“...Do you like mommy fucking you?”

He reacted visibly, stiffening under you. Cock twitching from where it was trapped in your wet heat. 

Another button to press. This was... perfect. So perfect. How was he real? How was he so wonderful? “Because mommy loves this cock.” You started up the brutal pace again, and shit, your own orgasm was way closer than you expected. “This is mommy’s cock. Her baby boy’s so good for her, isn’t he? So hungry for her pussy, so hungry to be fucked.”

“Shit, angel, shit-” Eddie was back to his usual talkative self, face beet-red, “k-keep talking like that, jesus, please-”

“I want you to cum for mommy.” You growled. He was so hot inside you, so perfect, scraping your spongey-soft walls, flickering pleasure lighting you up from the inside. “Can you do that, baby boy? Can you cum for mommy?”

You managed exactly ten more brutal strokes before his awed, pleasure-drunk face made you race over the edge, orgasm hitting you so hard you choked on your own words. You barely felt Eddie follow you over, hands in your grip curling around your own wrists. Holding one another like lifelines. 

You collapsed onto him, panting like a marathon runner. Sweaty skin against sweaty skin, his cock soft and extra-spent inside you. 

It was silent for a long time, save for the thrashing drums and wild guitar: the music felt faint, compared to the blood roaring in your ears. Eddie was hot under you. A comforting slab of skin and muscle. 

God, he was so good for you. So good. 

With exhausted limbs you hauled yourself off him, peppering his panting face with kisses. Spitting some of his hairs out of you mouth with a soft pah and making him weakly chuckle. 

“You okay, hon?” You asked him eventually, a hand softly pressed to his bare, tattooed chest. 

“...I think my, uh, legs might not work anymore, angel. But other than that?” He cracked a sweaty, disbelieving grin. Like he was the lucky one, not you. “I’m fuckin’ great.”

You pressed your forehead to his, warmth and affection making you feel like you were queen of the goddamn world. “Love you.” You murmured. 

“Love you too, angel.”

“Ah-ah.” You chided. When he raised his eyebrows in confusion, you smiled smugly. “It’s mommy, now.”

He groaned and laughed defeatedly. “Oh, man. You’re not gonna let that go, huh?”

“Never.”

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #stranger things imagine #eddie munson #minors dont look #my writing

[kennyluvr]

#🪐: main 4 — baking brownies with them

synopsis/concept: baking brownies with the main 4

content warnings: none!

author's note: the thing with ike is partially based of a personal experience LMAO. also i think there's tense inconsistencies but i don't wanna revise smh, so sorry ab that!

kyle broflovski

kyle loves to bake with you whenever it rains, it helps him relax. whenever he starts to hear even a drizzle he calls you to come over😫

you guys rarely use a prepared recipe though, and whatever you use to make it changes every time, since you're just winging it most days and trying a bunch of stuff

and you guys love to add random shit to it, like whatever you can reach, you just grab it and dump it in.

you guys are constantly giggling and yelling so it never gets boring or quiet, it's literally so fun

literally everything is funny to you, like kyle mixed up the flour and the sugar and you both found it hilarious??

you guys also put music on and dance every few minutes, and while you wait for them to finish

and sometimes ike comes into the kitchen and joins you guys, until kyle makes him leave against your protests 😔

once, ike got on the counter somehow and smeared the batter everywhere when you two weren't looking. that's why kyle doesn't let him stay long most of the time anymore

it was so funny because you both thought it was shit 😨

you guys were laughing until your stomachs hurt when you realized, but sheila was NOT amused 💀

tbh it took longer to clean than to make the brownies since you made such a mess, and lowk made it worse.. but cold brownies are better anyway!

stan marsh

stan would literally be so prepared. he has a recipe sheet, all the ingredients, toppings, and supplies all laid out neatly on the counter.

he'll probably want to add some weird ass shit to it too, like marshmallows, or peanut butter

"trust me it'll taste good! i swear, i've had it before. you're gonna thank me later"

and somehow it does turn out good?? 😧

he'll probably get cute matching aprons for both of you omg??

he partially takes the lead, being kind of bossy tbh but we love dominant stan

and he's definitely a perfectionist, like he'll measure everything meticulously. if you add even a drop more of something than the recipe calls to tease him, he'll lowk panic tbh

and if you try to taste the batter he'll probably lecture you about how dangerous it is 😒

"don't do that dumbass, you could get salmonella. or e. coli or something."

before putting it into the oven he'll probably write a cute little note on it for you with a toothpick or something to surprise you 🤭

luckily, you guys finish up fairly quickly, since stan's so neat and organized

eric cartman

unfortunately you're not really baking with him, you're baking for him..

does nothing to help you except tell you how he likes it and how he wants it to be

"um, no y/n. i want more vanilla in it. usually i eat them with a lot of vanilla"

he's kind of excited though, he loves when you do stuff like this for him, it literally makes his heart swell 😓

he'd probably be super close to you all the time to supervise you and shit, hugging your waist closer to him

you do the opposite of what he says sometimes just to bug him, because the look of exasperation on his face is so cute 😕

"oh my god- you stupid FUCK i wanted m&ms. what normal person eats brownies with almonds??" (almond brownies are fire btw)

he's so funny when he gets mad too, and you keep having to stop to catch your breath

but honestly, sometimes, he's not actually upset or mad at what you're doing. he just does it more and exaggerates just because he knows it'll make you laugh, and he loves seeing you smile so widely because of him

he's so impatient too, when they're baking he keeps asking when they're going to be done

when you're finally done, he'll tell you how good they are to justify all the stress he caused 🙏

"see? i told you it would be better with m&m's. and the almonds aren't too bad either, i guess."

kenny mccormick

kenny would agree but he'd be really cautious and scared to do anything

he still tries to make himself as helpful as possible, bringing you everything you need, giving you suggestions or ideas

you have to beat him away with a spoon sometimes because he keeps trying to have all the chocolate 😭

he feels bad that he can't do much, but he doesn't want to accidentally kill himself

so he opts to hinder you support you emotionally as well, just hugging your waist from behind and encouraging you with kisses ☹️

and just like kyle, you guys put on music while baking

but once you knocked over a whole bag of flour dancing, and he was just laughing hysterically 💀

and you yelled at him to help you clean up, but he's writhing on the floor, cackling and coating himself in flour

and then when he's helping you clean, he probably knocks over the batter or something and he starts laughing his ass off again

it ends up taking a while to finish, since you and kenny are both a mess and have to restart tons of times

but eventually, when you finish, he'll probably ask you to take some home for karen and his siblings 😢

#south park x reader #kenny mccormick x reader #kyle broflovski x reader #eric cartman x reader #stan marsh x reader #kyle brovlofski #kyle broflovski #stan marsh #eric cartman #kenny mccormick #kennyluvr

[sugar-omi]

teasing cove when you have a crush on each other drives me So crazy

flirty eyes from across the counter, sliding your hand across his chest... or even worse (read as: better), putting your hand on the small of his back as you go around him to the refrigerator

and the idea of doing it before he's going out w his parents is even better

sat on top of his car, laughing and whispering to yourselves. you lean in to whisper something in his ear or lean closer to his face to say something smug, something flirty and he flushes

then his parents walk outside, all cheery then they pause a bit when they see the deer-in-headlights look on cove's face and the way you pause

kyra gives a cheery greeting and cliff laughs, realizing what a awkward situation he's walked in on but he greets you anyway.

"hi," you smile, abandoning your conversation with cove and talking with his parents while he fidgets beside you. "well i should get going.."

and you slide off the hood of cove's car, fixing your bottoms and you put a hand on cove's shoulder which makes him jump.

"i'll see you later cove." your hand drag down his arm as you walk away, slipping into your house.

its silence between them before cove jumps up and exclaims about how theyre gonna be late

or you have cove over one night, and you have the house to yourself. your moms and cove's parents are out, catching a movie and dinner and your sister is sleeping over a friends house in the city to catch up with her old group, so there's no one around to tease you or usher cove out for the next 4 hours at least.

taking the opportunity to be as loud as you want, you put on some music and its so... flirty

(i can see sabrina carpenter "nonsense" or sza "the weekend" or my favorite 50 cent "best friend")

maybe its not meant to be, maybe the beat isnt anything remotely sexy and more on the pop side, but either way you're mouthing/singing the lyrics back to him and you're obviously flirting with him

even though you're just moving throughout the kitchen without any rhythm and you just leaned forward across the counter but you did it with a smile and you're teasing him.

oh god even better, you're in the kitchen trying to make this box brownie you bought at the store and the radio is on low, and you're sitting on the counter and cove is mixing the batter

maybe its because he has the best arms between you two or maybe its because you wanna watch how his veins pop and his hands look wrapping around the spoon...

you like him way too much if you can find him stirring brownie batter together sexy, but thats not your problem

mmm imagine cove coming behind you to help you get the brownie pan out of the cabinet, helping you move the pots and pans in front of it and his body is against yours. and hes so chill about it, as if his groin is pressed again you....

and when its finally in the pan and its cooked, you're trying the brownies and cove finishes his so you pull him in by his belt loops...

he totally freezes up but youre in front of him, holding out a brownie for him to eat from your hand and he keeps eye contact as he bites down. hes watching you, and youre watching the way his lips part as he bites down and how he licks his lips...

and cove swallows, youre watching the way his throat bobs...

omg and if you bite the same spot he bit into, looking into cove's eyes the entire time and his hands move to your thigh, the other to the back of your neck..

and you both lean in and meet in the middle, and you're so lost in kissing each other that you drop the brownie. as much as you like, love, kissing cove you're glad that that was a smaller slice since these brownies are pretty damn good

but then cove slips his tongue in your mouth and suddenly the brownies taste so subpar to this...

oh man i need to stop typing n write this shit immediately 🙌🙌🙌😫

#olba #cove holden

[typhea]

✮﹒❄️﹐BNHA BOYS + ‘MY KIND OF WOMAN’

﹐♡﹒featuring : izuku, shoto, katsuki, eijirou, dabi, hanta ♡

﹐♡﹒infos : fluff , gn!reader, reader is called a pervert, reader is called kinky, it’s just for fun dww ♡

﹐♡﹒summary : judging you according to ur fav (don’t take me seriously 😭) ♡

──﹐MIDORIYA IZUKU

i wanna be friends with you.

you’re the sweetest, kindest, and most caring darling and everyone knows it.

you act cute and innocence to hide that you’re a pervert.

you’re the “it’s mean, it’s not funny.” friend.

you have abandonment issues.

you’re either really smart or really dumb, no in between.

you have the prettiest smile like, smile rq? 😍

izuku would definitely love you <3

──﹐TODOROKI SHOTO

you overthink a lot.

you’re quiet but you have wild thoughts, like are you ok?

you probably have family/parents issues or you have the weirdest friends.

i bet you got a pretty voice.

you’re sweet but .. nobody knows it?

you have mood swings.

you’re really funny when you want to.

shoto would take a while to confess tbh but he would definitely give you the best signs 🤭

──﹐BAKUGOU KATSUKI

you got serious issues to be liking this type of men.

i bet you would make him shut his mouth sometimes, like in awe with how crazy you are.

you’re not cute i’m sorry, maybe you’re hot? 😏

all your clothes are black.

you’re delusional, like.. really.

you’re cute when you shut your mouth, not in a mean way like you really are. i mean like lost in thoughts idk i’m sorry, dont punch me 😞

you’re sensitive..

katsuki literally hates you but he’s even more pissed when you’re not there like, he loves to hate you :D

──﹐KAMINARI DENKI

hii, i wanna be your friend.

i bet you’re literally a sunshine. like YOU’RE MAKING ME SMILE

no one notices when you’re sad but denki will

you have insomnia! :D

you got the best taste in everything ; clothes, music, food, .. anything!

you’re unable to say no to anyone, scared to hurt them. sometimes you even let them disrespect you or your boundaries BUT YOU SHOULDNT 😫

your handwriting looks like a 6 years old’s, im sorry. are you left-handed by any chance..?

denki would be obsessed with you ngll <33

──﹐KIRISHIMA EIJIROU

you’re cute.

you look like a mitski song and a the weeknd song at the same time.

smile more? im obsessed.

you’re the sweetest butterfly in the world, you deserve love and affection 🤭

i bet people be telling you you’re beautiful but you still think the opposite :<

i see you with 7 kids.

you’re so patient and understanding, i know you listen to everyone vent but you never vent to anyone.

eijirou would treat you like the most precious person in the world <3

──﹐DABI

um .. you’re scary.

you’re kinky.

you get wild murder and bloody thoughts when you’re bored.

you love sweet food.

you’re mentally ill.

you’re manipulative, ahhh.

you got the prettiest eyes, IM SHAKING.

dabi would definitely fuc.. i mean he would enjoy ur company ig..

──﹐SERO HANTA

you got the best vibes fr!

i know you’re a great dancer, you’re just shy.

i bet you’re stunning, like only beautiful people likes him.

you’re kinda nonchalant.

you got a mirroring personality, you love making others comfortable with you.

your cooking skills are amazing like lemme have a taste 🙇‍♀️

you act dumb but you’re really smart.

sero would be your bestest bsf fr with benefits

thanks for reading darlin! don’t forget to like and leave a comment :)

mha m.list | request here!

#☆．bnha #★．sero hanta #☆．hcs #★．bakugou katsuki #☆．fluffy #★．midoriya izuku #★．kaminari denki #★．dabi #★．kirishima eijirou #bnha x reader #mha x reader #mha fluff #bnha fluff #bakugo x reader #katsuki x reader #izuku fluff #izuku x reader #deku x reader #mha kirishima #denki fluff #denki hcs #bakugo hcs #bakugou hcs #dabi x y/n #dabi x reader #dabi fluff #dabi hcs #hanta sero #sero x reader #sero fluff

[hardt4rein]

Hantengu Clones Music Taste Headcanons

Just what I personally feel they would listen too + how they would sing along/react to you catching them singing

🔞 Some suggestive stuff mentioned on Karaku’s part (minors dni). Also vulgar language throughout and in the songs

Please enjoy.

✘ ⚡️🍁🫧🪶✘

Sekido

Music Taste

Definitely angry breakup songs

Like for instance “Take what you want” and “Enemies” both by Post Malone 

Also songs about people betraying or using others

Literally just any song with a meaning that he could relate to 

He likes to listen to other people experiencing the same kind of emotions but in a more calm way compared to how he expresses them

If he listened to angry music that matched his unjust energy he would go blind in rage

So sticking to these “calm” sounds with opposite lyrics is the best for him

How He Would Sing Along

If he honestly even tried to remember the words that is

Would start off simply humming it at first

He would only start “singing” along if he’s alone

And by “singing” it’s more of a monotone speaking 

It almost sounds as though he’s annoyed by the fact the song has him wasting his breath to it

Reaction To Being Caught

If it was during the time he was just humming to it he won’t make a big deal out of it

He’ll just turn up the music to purposely ignore you

But if you caught him during his attempt at “singing”

Be prepared for him to yell at you for sneaking around

💀 like Sekido, it’s your fault for not noticing them come into the room

He’s turning the music off entirely

Do not mention it to him. You’re getting an earful of him saying he wasn’t singing

Like ok Mister Gaslight 💀

Honorable Song Mentions

The album “Elsewhere” by Set it Off

“Slow Bloom” “Fomo” “Watching All Your Friends Get Rich” by The Home Team

“In My Room” Insane Clown Posse

“Punching Bag” Set It Off (a little less calm than the other ones mentioned)

Karaku

Imo bro is a whole ass whore

Like he listened to music he would refer to himself with

Like for instance “Naked” by Doja Cat

But literally any song by the Weekend

Like bro is a sex fiend/tease and his music taste would whole reflect that entirely

1000% RnB enjoyer 😫

Even though he has his tastes he really doesn’t mind so he’ll even listen to his brothers music or other genres entirely 

How He Would Sing Along

Just mindlessly vibing along most times

But when he’s actively paying attention he is singing like he’s the one performing it

Even going as far to put emphasis into certain lyrics as well or playfully smirking/rolling his eyes to some lyrics

Keep in mind he can’t sing for shit 💀

Reaction To Being Caught

Would be a little caught off guard at first but gets over it quickly 

He is now singing the song directly to you 🫵

As previously mentioned most of these songs have sexual undertones 

You’re more than likely about to get eaten out to whatever song is playing 🤭

Honorable Song Mentions

“Kiss You More” and “Wine Pon You”Doja Cat 

“Don’t Go” Justin Bieber, Don Toliver

“Cry Baby” Megan thee Stallion, Da Baby

“Awkward” Sza

“One Right Now” Weekend, Post Malone

“Scoop” Lil Nas X

Aizetsu

Just like with Sekido I believe he would listen to music with meanings that match his emotion but not entirely 

Of course he wants music that matches his energy but not enough to make him start full on bawling his eyes out 

“Ghost in Machine” by Sza would be a great example 

This songs explains boredom, loneliness and wanting something more

All things I truly believe he relates to

The discography from the band Arctic Monkeys also gives him the greatest of ear worms

How He Would Sing Along

He has the best singing voice out of his brothers

Tries to keep his tone low enough so that no one can hear him

I’d imagine he would always have one earbud out of his ear just to make sure no one walks in on him

Reaction To Being Caught

He would make a little noise out of being startled

Immediately embarrassed 

Tell him you enjoyed his singing and he will immediately brighten up

But then again would still be self conscious you heard him in the first place 😅

He shares his earbuds and enjoys the music with you 🤗

Honorable Song Mentions

“Soap” Melanie Martines

“Fireside” “505” “Do I Wanna Know” by Arctic Monkeys (Just to name a few)

“Shinunoga E-Wa” Kujii Kaze 

“Okay” “Friends” “Empty” Chase Atlantic

“Lonely Boy” “Ghosting” “Farewell Neverland” and “0x1= Lovesong” all by Txt

Urogi

He 1000% wants music that matches his energy 

Bro loves hyper pop and no one can tell me otherwise for instance “Spy” Whokilleddxix

LOUD LOUD LOUD MUSIC

It’s almost like he wants his ears to bleed like he does to others

I’m not kidding if he’s listening to music it has to be on full blast 

How He Would Sing Along

He’s screaming his lungs out

Doesn’t even matter if he knows the words or not bros just screaming along

His voice will make your ears bleed (literally 🗿)

Reaction To Being Caught

Just going to ask you if you like the song being played

If not then he’s putting on something you both can enjoy

Loves jamming along with you

Please match his energy he will love you forever

Honorable Song Mentions

“So Bitter” Stxlkin

“Narcissistic Personality Disorder” Odetari

“Where’s My Juul” Full Tac

“Go (Xtayalive 2)” Kanii

“BrooklynBloodPop” SyKo

“Sex Obsession” Cade Clair

“Love Taste” Moe Shop

✘ ⚡️🍁🫧🪶✘

A/N: Anyways lemme know what songs you think they would like or you associate with them. Sorry if this was ass, k bye

#kimestu no yaiba #demon slayer #demon slayer x reader #kny #kny fanart #kny x reader #hantengu #hantengu clone x reader #hantengu clones #sekido #sekido x reader #karaku #karaku x reader #karaku smut #aizetsu #aizetsu x reader #urogi #urogi x reader #headcanon #kny headcanons

[mariaace]

Akaashi dating hc's

Pairing:Akaashi x gn!reader

A/n: I've been thinking about Akaashi for quite a few days so i decided to write this☺️💜🖤

Loading...

Ohhh my fav boy from haikyuu!!!😫😫 He is so perfect

So dating Akaashi means basically that you two are like parents to Bokuto. Honestly i wouldn't be surprised if he call you mom/dad one time without realising it😂 it's not like a bad thing though it's nice for both of you.

I am totally convinced that Akaashi's favourite dates are library dates after school. You'll both do your homework (he'll help you out with everything you don't understand) and if you like to read books he will stand and read with you

Akaashi will listen to you talk all day if needed to. He loves to listen to your voice and will drop anything to listen to you. You don't have someone to talk to? Call him. You want to tell someone about your day? Ask him. You want to plamp about a new book/film you've seen? Tell him about it. He is just a great listener.

Akaashi loves to share headphones with you while you listen to music together. It's like calming for him. If you don't have the same taste of music well that's okay with him.

He won't directly hold your hand. Akaashi will simply start by holding pinkies with you untill he actually grab your hand. He is just gentle.

Talking about gentle. Akaashi is very gentle. He has rough hands, because of volleyball. Most of time they might be bandaged, but he will always be gentle while touching, hugging, holding hands etc.

He loves tee. Every time you are at his place to study or just to hang out, Akaashi will make tee for both of you. If you don't like tee he'll make you something else.

Ramen dates!!! The boy loves ramen and i am convinced. It's just so simple and so romantic at the same time. Akaashi think they are the perfect time for both of you to relax and talk about your days and stuff.

He would love to see you at his games. He won't be too distracted by you dw. Akaashi would just know that you are supporting him through the whole game even if you aren't able to watch him.

© mariaace 2024 do not modify, plagiarize, copy or claim any of my works!

#mariaace 🪼 #akaashi keiji #akaashi x reader #haikyuu akaashi #haikyuu x you #keiji akaashi #akaashi fluff #akaashi x you #x reader #haikyuu fluff #dating headcanons

[chicksung]

Slippin’ || P.JS

Genre: fluff, strangers to lovers, slight enemies to lovers, angst, hurt/comfort, high school au, skater boy au, PG-15

Pairing: skater boy!jisung x tutor!reader

Word Count: 14.6k

Warnings: lots of swearing, underaged drinking, non explicit details of injury, kissing, she/her pronouns used, inaccuracy about skateboarding (i know nothing bare w me)

Synopsis: Three days a week, two teenage hearts, one boy to tutor and several missing assignments. If there’s one thing you’ve learned since you started tutoring the one and only park jisung, it’s that it’s not just his grades that are slippin

Sophie’s Salutations: OH SHE’S FINALLY HERE!! I am so so sorry for how overdue this fic is 😫 but she is finally here and I couldn’t be more happy to release it! A special thanks go to @lebrookestore​ for helping with formatting, editing and listening to me ramble and rant about this fic. Feedback is highly appreciated! 

playlist

Taglist: @lunaflvms @mora134340 @hanniejisungi @jisunglttlstar @yixingtion @flower-lise @mark-wife-renjun-whore @beemarkie @thesunsfullmoon @grassbutneo @jaeyunverse @lebrookestore @earth-to-that-asian @heartshyuck @jenotapes @fullbitchsun @sunfuls @duolingofanaccount @gyuwrites​ 

Prologue: The One and Only

“Do you know Park Jisung?”

God, at this point, who didn’t?

He was the boy who never said much, never paid too much attention, not even to the girls who gave him goo-goo eyes during class. To him, all that mattered was his bluetooth headphones, his god awful music taste and most of all, his skateboard. He spent more time mastering tricks on that damned piece of wood on wheels than he ever did studying. It would definitely explain his straight D’s on his semesterly report card.

It would also explain why you were asked to stay after class by your English teacher for a quick talk.

“I mean, I know of him. I wouldn’t say that I know him,” You answered, readjusting the strap of your backpack in an effort to dilute the awkwardness. She smiled gently, turning away from you to retrieve a brown folder from her desk. It was labelled in thick bold writing, most likely from a black permanent marker.

‘PARK JISUNG - MISSING ASSIGNMENTS’.

She thrusted the folder towards you and gave you a sad, sympathetic smile.

“Jisung is failing my class. No matter how much I’ve tried to engage him, he won’t listen to me,” she explained, watching you as you flicked through the familiar papers, “I’ve given him the highest grade I possibly could without any of the coursework, but it’s not enough.”

“Miss Barnes, with all due respect, what makes you think that I can help him pass?” You looked up at her, seeing her hopeful expression.

“Trust me, if there is anyone that can help a struggling student like Jisung pass this class, it’s you,” she placed her hand on the folder one last time before she grabbed her keys, “Good luck, Y/N.”

Luck? Yeah, god knows you would need it.

i. Miss Optimistic

“Are you Jisung?” You asked. Considering he was the only student who had their skateboard resting against the desk he had claimed as his own, and the only one who had a fringe long enough to act as a barrier between him and the outside world, you could only assume you had the right person.

He didn’t respond.

With furrowed brows, you repeated your question once again, but to no avail.

You bent over, the covers of your books pressing into your chest, and were met with strands of his hair in front of his partially closed eyes. Had it not been for the slight nodding of his head to a silent beat, you would’ve mistaken him for asleep. From this angle, you could see the dark cups of his headphones and you were going to take that as the reason he couldn’t hear you.

After another failed attempt to get his attention, you knew why it may not be the best first impression, desperate times call for desperate measures. With one swift movement, you yanked his headphones from his head and undoubtedly a few of his hairs too.

“What the fuck?” He exclaimed, looking up to you, an unfriendly scowl on his lips. You sighed, only pulling back the seat across from him.

“I did call your name at least three times,” you said emotionlessly, sinking into the plush seat and placing your belongings on the table.

“Whatever,” he said in annoyance, shaking his hair out of his eyes. In a desperate attempt to fix the impression, you held out your hand to him, inviting him for a handshake.

“I’m Y/N, your English tutor,” you introduced, the best expression you could offer him was an awkward lopsided smile. To your unpleasant surprise, Jisung laughed in your face. The mean and sarcastic manner he did only dwindled your hope of helping him.

“Miss Barnes set you up to this, didn’t she?” He ran his tongue over the fronts of his teeth, a possible habit you pondered.

“You seem like a smart girl, so let me give you some advice,” Jisung watched you in amusement as you leaned closer to him. “You’re wasting your time. You want my opinion? Take this back to Miss Barnes and we will never have to deal with each other again,” he pushed the folder back towards you, a smug smile on his face. You, determined not to be discouraged by some boy who cared more about a piece of wood than his grades, slammed the folder back down to prove your point.

“I will not. If I didn’t want to do this, I would’ve told her,” you told him matter-of-factly, opening the folder so the two of you could look at the contents of it.

“And what makes you think I care?” He asked, boredom lacing his words. You realised you weren’t making any progress with him, your mind frantically looking for a way to engage him.

“You know, Miss Barnes said that if you don’t pass her class, you’re gonna be held back a year,” you lied, keeping a cool and composed front, but behind your eyes, you were panicking and hoping he didn’t detect your lie. A long groan left his lips, slowly turning himself back to you.

“Fuck, fine. Fine. I’m listening,” he groaned, his hands raised on either side of his head like he was surrendering to the authorities. “What do I need to do?” Satisfied with how smoothly you managed to trick him, you started pulling out assignments and tests that Jisung had either failed or failed to turn in.

“This is the coursework you need to complete, and depending on whether or not you do well enough, the coursework you need to pass,” you explained, laying out each one on the table. Jisung ran a hand through his hair and let out a long sigh at the sight of the workload, stress becoming evident on his face. Most papers had been marked with a rather large ‘D’ or ‘D-’ and on the rare occasion, a ‘C-’. They weren’t exactly grades to be proud of, in fact, you found it quite disheartening that Jisung hadn’t even tried to reach out for help, but it was his own choice.

“It seems like a lot, I know, however, there’s still another quarter left until summer break. I’m sure we can get through this,” you offered him a friendly smile, but it was quickly rejected by a scowl.

“Right. Not to burst your bubble, Miss Optimistic, but I’m not exactly a good student, as I’m sure you’ve noticed,” he leaned forward, the scowl turning into a smirk, “and you expect me to finish this in a matter of weeks? Keep dreaming, sweetheart,” his mocking laughter made your cheeks burn with embarrassment, but this kid was getting on your nerves, and you were convinced he knew it too. Brushing off the pet name, you stared him down.

“If you want to be kept back a year, then that’s your decision, but if I were you, I’d rather not be the laughingstock of my friend group because I couldn’t keep my feet off a piece of wood with wheels. I’m here to help you, and you have a test next week, so you better start paying attention.” Another angsty teenage groan later and he straightened his posture.

“There. Are you happy now?” He complained, and in return, a sarcastic comment of your own.

“Ecstatic.”

ii. A Deal with the Devil™

“D+? Really, Jisung?” You scoffed as you looked over the results of his most recent English test, and it wasn’t exactly the turnaround you were hoping for. The black-haired boy could only shrug in response, obviously not too fussed by the result. “I literally went over these topics with you yesterday. How did you forget so quickly?” Again, you were met with a  shrug. With a groan, you threw the paper to the desk and pressed against the back of the chair.

“What went wrong?” You asked gently, not wanting him to feel guilty for his grade. Yet again, he shrugged.

“I don’t know. I just forgot,” he dismissed, his bangs covering his eyes. A long sigh fluttered past your lips as you glanced between Jisung and the test.

“Okay, let’s go over this step by step,” you said, twiddling your pen between your fingers, its nib pointing at the first question, “what is the difference between an adjective and adverb?” Jisung mumbled, but his voice was too deep for you to decipher what he was saying, “Park, speak up and clearly.” He cleared his throat and tried again.

“One describes a word, one describes a verb in particular,” he answered, which satisfied you. However, it was his written answer that disappointed you.

“So why did you explain a proposition instead?” You lost count of how many times he chose a wordless response over actually answering you, but it was better than being ignored. You didn’t understand why he didn’t just provide a reasonable explanation, but upon pondering this, you noticed Jisung wasn’t looking you in the eye. In fact, he wasn’t looking at you at all, and you didn’t have to follow his line of sight to see what he was looking at.

“You went to the skate park instead of studying again, didn’t you?” You deadpanned, biting the tip of your tongue to kill the long string of insults and pent-up frustration from flowing freely. “Jisung, if you want to pass, you can’t keep doing this,” you felt bad at the fact you sounded like a teacher scolding a misbehaving student, but given the situation, you both found yourselves in, it wouldn’t be too far from the truth.

“Please, you think I want to?” He looked away and scoffed, as if he was trying his absolute hardest to stop himself from laughing in your face, “Listen here, sweetheart. Why should I have to suffer through something I find no joy or passion in, just to appease the capitalist views of society?”

His hands comfortably sat within each other, waiting patiently for your answer. His blunt yet pointed response, paired with the nickname that dripped with sarcasm, flustered you and rendered you speechless.

You gaped at him like a fish out of water, desperately trying to breathe again. Amused, he placed his pointer finger underneath your chin and forced your mouth shut, “Didn’t want you to catch flies,” he snickered as you swatted his hand away.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” you hissed, folding your arms across your chest, “then what? At this rate, we are making no progress. Surely, there is something I can do to engage you.” You admit, your approach was desperate and another teasing opportunity on his end but you were running out of options, and never once was one of them to quit.

“There is actually,” Jisung answered, clicking his fingers as a lightbulb went off in his head, “what is your view on skateboarding?” His question made you roll your eyes, which apparently was enough of an answer for him.

“Good, I know exactly how you can engage me.” He gestured to the skateboard that leaned in its usual spot against the desk, “if I do well on my next test, you come to the skatepark with me, at any given time.” You groaned, your eyes rolling so far back, Jisung was convinced you were looking at your brain.

“Seriously?” Of course, he chose the skatepark, what else would he have said?

“If I have to suffer through something I don’t like, so do you,” he smirked, unclasping his hand to stick one out towards you, “so do we have a deal?” He looked at you expectantly, stifling his laughter at your conflicted expression. Pushing all voices to the back of your mind, you completed the handshake, giving it one firm shake at that.

“Deal.”

What the fuck were you getting yourself into?

iii. only Idiots catch feelings

“He’s so annoying,” you ranted to your best friend as you paced around your room, practically ripping your hair out of your head. “He thinks he’s top shit, like he has this sort of power over me.”

“Well, from the state you’re in, he kinda does,” your best friend Wonyoung commented, having to hide her smile to avoid having a cushion throttled in her direction at a hundred miles an hour. You swiftly turned on your heel, squinting your eyes at her.

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” You interrogated, walking towards her. Wonyoung snorted with laughter behind your pillow, her only source of protection.

“Repeat everything you just listed off to me. Everything about him you find irritating,” she prompted, placing the pillow in her lap.

“Well,” you started, a little confused, “he’s never on time, he gets some sort of separation anxiety if his skateboard isn’t within his field of vision, he is constantly listening to this shitty underground artist and thinks it’s the greatest piece of media to grace this planet, he never studies, he always has this stupid smirk on his face, he keeps calling me ‘sweetheart’. The list goes on, what’s your point?” You couldn’t comprehend why Wonyoung was giving you such a strange look, not until she spoke.

“Someone has a little crush,” she teased. You picked up the teddy bear that sat at the end of your bed and threw it at her.

“What the fuck? No! Absolutely not!” You denied loudly, flabbergasted by her outrageous statement.

“Well, do you think he’s cute?” She asked, hugging the teddy close to her body. You froze, her words drowning out your sense of reality.

Jisung wasn’t unattractive, by any definition of the word. He was devilishly handsome, which went hand in hand with his devilish personality. In fact, he was quite popular with the girls at school, and he either flirted with them out of boredom or ignored them completely. Sure, he was cute, but to go as far as to say that you had a crush on him? No way, absolutely not. You scolded yourself for even entertaining the stupid idea.

“Earth to Y/N? You never answered my question,” Wonyoung reeled you out of your thoughts so fast, you swore you felt dizzy. You straightened your posture and folded your arms, ignoring how your heart was hammering in your heart.

“No,” you answered curtly, your voice certain and sharp. She snorted and looked at her phone, the fast tapping on its screen signifying that she was texting someone.

“Sure,” she raised her eyebrows with her unconvinced response, thankfully deciding to abandon teasing you. The conversation may have been over, but her words still swam in your head and mixed your thoughts and feelings into a strange concoction you could only describe as confused. Despite all the mixed feelings and incoherent thoughts, you concluded that you did not like Park Jisung.

Only an idiot would catch feelings for him.

iv. Nerds are NOT morning people

You didn’t understand why Jisung looked so smug when you came in for the first of three tutoring sessions for the week. He adorned his regular black hoodie, black ripped jeans that were more holes than style in your opinion, and white vans with the skeletal structure of a foot painted on them with black paint. The only difference you could pinpoint was his headphones hanging loosely around his neck, translating to he was listening for you, waiting for you. It was a foreign idea, and one you had mixed feelings on.

“You’re here,” he spoke first before you had even sat down.

“It does seem that way,” you quipped, moving to place your pencil case and book on the desk when you noticed a sheet of paper on the table. Curiosity tugged at your heart, your fingers gently pulling it towards you.

“What’s this? Did you put this here?” You questioned him as you picked it up, your heart thumping as you flipped it over. Your eyes focused on two things, his name written surprisingly neatly at the top of the page and the large 72.5% marked at the top of the page. Your jaw dropped dramatically as you stared at the red number, and you could feel Jisung’s eyes boring into you, his smirk undoubtedly growing wider.

“I believe I recall a certain someone promising that she’ll come to the skatepark with me if I passed my next English test,” he spoke, cockiness coating every word he spoke like chocolate-dipped strawberries. You slammed down the paper, your face showing utter disbelief.

“How? How did you-” you stammered and stuttered before Jisung shut you up.

“You told me to study, so I did. Are you pleased?” Pleased would be a stretch. You were beyond ecstatic but you couldn’t properly express it, still trying to get over the shock of the whole situation.

“Jisung, that’s a B grade,” you stated stupidly, your speech granting you the ability to finally able to formulate full sentences. He cocked a singular eyebrow, smirking in amusement.

“Does that mean you’ll come to the skatepark for the whole week?” He pushed, testing your limits. You glared at him.

“What? No? Well, I-Maybe? Fuck, fine!” You knew you might grow to regret your decision but you would come to that consequence when it came around.

“Gimme your phone. You’re gonna need my number in that case.”

Ping! Ping! Ping!

Oh lord. The time had come. You groaned tiredly, rolling over to check the rather loud notifications on your phone.

demon spawn: hey

demon spawn: i’m at the skatepark

demon spawn: i expect u here in 10

You slammed your phone back down onto the nightstand, looking up at the time. 5:41 am. The numbers glared at you in their bright red light. You refrained from throwing a fit in the bed, in fear of waking your family.

You silently resented yourself (and Jisung too) for dragging yourself out of bed at five am on a Saturday because of a stupid bargain you made with a failing student just so he would study. He passes a singular test and thinks he’s on top of the world. Smartass.

“Fucking hell,” you grunted as you pulled on a warm jacket and silently slipped out the front door. You momentarily worried about how you were going to explain yourself to your parents when they realised that their child was not residing within the warm covers of her bed, but eventually abandoned the idea when you started to think about the possible consequences that would be in place. It was still dark outside, and the early morning air was cold, cold enough that it quickly numbed the tip of your nose.

Whilst recounting the last ten minutes of your life, your mind became a forest and you were very, very lost. You walked, and walked, and walked. You would’ve kept walking if it hadn’t been for the voice that called out to you.

“Is the skatepark that hard to spot?” The familiar voice that belonged to the one and only, Park Jisung. Grey beanie, white shirt, the classic ripped jeans, however switching out his regular black for blue, and black Converse, a style you had never seen on him.

“You know, judging from your personality, I never took you like a morning person,” you teased as you rubbed your eyes, an attempt to dispel the last of the sleep from them. Jisung snickered at your remark, stomping on the end of his skateboard to flick it upwards.

“Applying that logic, I never took you as someone who wasn’t. Aren’t nerds, like, supposed to like mornings?” You scoffed at his side smirk, crawling up the skate he was standing on.

Having only seen him hunched over on the cushioned chairs in the library, you hadn’t realised how tall Jisung really was, around 6’, 5’11 at the very least.

“There’s a reason I brought you out so early,” he announced, breaking your train of thought.

“You mean at the ass crack of dawn,” you quipped grumpily but listened closely for his explanation.

“Whatever you wanna call it, drama queen,” he rolled his eyes, shifting his skateboard to the edge of the dip, so his back wheels were touching the silver tube-like barrier, “but I wanted to show you the sunrise over the city. Thought it would be pretty,” he shrugged slightly, his eyes cast back to you.

“Really? You dragged me out of bed at a ridiculous hour of the morning to watch the sunrise?” You huffed, feeling annoyance rise in your chest, yet when he looked at you like that, you couldn’t channel that annoyance towards him.

“Well, and this,” Jisung winked as he placed his left foot at the front of his skateboard and he fell into the bowl. Picking up speed as he whizzed towards the other side of the bowl, he shot his hand out, catching the piping, the other hand holding onto his board as he turned it and his body to you, zipping in the same direction in which he came from. He slid back into the position he originally held next to you as if he weighed nothing as if he had the dynamics of a feather in the wind. You looked up to him, clearly impressed with his stunt.

“Wow,” was all you could muster, making Jisung laugh. Not snicker, not sneer, but genuinely laugh, as if he had just watched a puppy fall over itself from excitement.

“I can do it again if you’d like,” he suggested, which was met with a positive reaction. You sat down, your feet dangling into the bowl as you watched him excitedly skate around the cemented pit. Your eyes followed him, drinking in every trick and stunt he pulled. An unknown smile broke across your lips, one that contained no nasty emotions, hidden by a sickly sweet facade.

Your heart gave a flutter when he skated past you and flicked his hair out of his eyes. Your previous annoyance had evaporated into nothingness and was replaced with something completely new, something different. Due to your nature of order and organisation, you didn’t like different. It threw off your whole balance and it would take a while to rebuild the balance you once had, now with the added weight of whatever ruined everything in the first place. However, this difference felt sweet, it warmed you against the chilly early December air. It felt safe, a homely feeling.

Still intoxicated by this feeling, you glanced to the sky, noticing that the previous deep navy that was littered with tiny stars had been broken up by streaks of burnt orange, pink and white.

“Jisung!” You called to him, pointing to the sky. The boy in question whipped his head around, almost slipping off his skateboard from his lack of concentration on the concrete he was skating along. You stifled a laugh and patted the empty space beside you, inviting him to fill it. He smiled softly, clamouring up the steep bowl and accepting your invitation.

“I understand why you wanted to show me now,” you sighed, shifting all your weight onto the palms of your hands. Jisung nodded wordlessly, mimicking your position. His feet kicked to and fro, an absentminded habit of his as his gaze shifted from the sky to you. He noted every feature of your side profile, specifically how the sunrise gave you a heavenly glow as if you weren’t a mere human being beside him, but in fact an angel. He examined every part of your face that was so uniquely yours.

“It’s so beautiful,” he breathed. You nodded, agreeing with him, but you didn’t see the context he was speaking in. Jisung knew it wouldn’t be long before you caught him, choosing to glance at his watch instead. “It’s nearly 7. We should probably leave before your parents realise you’re missing,” he commented, expertly hiding his reluctance to end this moment. You let out a deep but short sigh.

“Time flew,” you noted, stretching as you stood up, brushing the dust off your backside, “wait, what about your parents?”

“They won’t be out of bed until at least 9. They probably haven’t even noticed that I’m not at home,” he shrugged, tucking his skateboard under his arm, “and because of that, let me walk you home.” The bluntness of his request spooked you. You didn’t think it could even be classified as a request.

“Jisung, that’s not necessary-”

“Nonsense. I dragged you out here, let me at least take you home.” Your heart gave a soft squeeze at his words, and you knew you couldn’t turn him down. You pointed him in the direction of your house and set off down the path together.

You walked in silence, partly awkward, partly not. It was as if you had spent every word in your vocabulary on each other and neither of you had a new word to say. The chill was still by and froze the tips of your ears. Jisung noticed you trying to rub your ears, as you would your hands, to warm them up. Without skipping a beat, he tugged his beanie off his head and offered it out to you.

“Here,” he muttered, his long fingers holding it loosely.

“Oh,” you whispered before breaking into nervous chuckles, “it’s fine. I don’t need it,” you held up your palm to push it back towards him, but he shoved it back.

“I insist,” he declared, his eyebrows raised expectedly. You groaned a small ‘fine’ and snatched the beanie from your hand, pulling it onto your head. Jisung let out a chuckle, tugging at the side so it properly covered your ears. You fell back into the silence and completed the journey to your house. You stopped outside the small wooden gate that allowed access to the front yard and the pretty garden. You turned on your heel and gave Jisung a small lopsided smile.

“Thanks,” you said, stumbling over your words and thoughts to say anything more than that. He nodded and smiled back. You bowed your head to take off his beanie before he stopped you.

“Keep it,” he insisted, “I’ve got plenty more at home. Besides, it looks better on you.” His words heated your cheeks, convincing you that if it were to start snowing right now, the snowflakes that landed on your cheeks would melt at first contact.

“O-Okay. I’ll see you later,” you smiled at him one last time before lifting the latch of the gate and walking towards the front door. Jisung nodded and spun on his heel, impulsively crossing the street towards his best friend Jeno’s house.

You pulled your phone out of your pocket, opening up your text messages with Wonyoung.

y/n only: fuck you. you were right. i think i am catching feelings

Satisfied with your sudden declaration to your best friend, you pushed open the front door. No sooner did you step through the threshold, than did you feel your heart stop dead.

“So,” your father started, “do you wanna tell us where you’ve been so early in the morning?”

v. Studying (your face)

You had dodged a bullet with your parents, the only punishment you received was to wash the dishes for the next two weeks without complaint. A single complaint would result in not leaving the house for however long they saw fit. However, you weren’t too distraught about not hanging out with Wonyoung, but more about the tutoring sessions with Jisung.

Ever since that morning in the skatepark, your feelings about the skater had been mixed around and twisted. Sure, he was annoying, and boy, did he make sure to remind you, but it didn’t seem to bother you as much as it used to. You found it charming if you defined charming as the stupidly irritating characteristic someone has that you learn to tolerate.

As ‘charming’ as he may be, he still had assignments that were missing and needed to be done, whether he liked it or not. He still had to hold up his half of the deal.

You shifted from one foot to the other anxiously, waiting for someone inside to answer your timid knock at the door. Your palms felt slick with sweat, why were you so nervous? Maybe it was because Jisung had randomly texted you, asking if you could study at his place instead. His excuse was ‘a change of scenery’ or something like that.

Your ears pricked up at the sound of shuffling behind the door. The door creaked open and revealed a petite middle-aged woman, presumably Jisung’s mother.

“Oh, you must be Jisung’s friend,” she smiled, one that perfectly replicated her son’s.

“Yes. I’m Y/N. It’s lovely to meet you, Mrs. Park, I assume,” you extended your arm for a handshake, which she graciously returned.

“Yes. It’s so good to meet you too. Jisung doesn’t bring many friends over, aside from Jeno and Chenle. It’s nice to see a new face,” you felt your cheeks heat up over her words and you nodded.

“Speaking of, where is Jisung?” You asked politely, leaving your shoes by the door. Mrs. Park pointed up the staircase, her other hand ghosting over your shoulder.

“Up the stairs, third door on the right. There’s a sign with his name on it if you get lost.” You thanked her and trekked your way upstairs.

The decor was enough to tell anyone that entered the home that the Parks were a happy family. The wall beside the stairs was lined with family photos, ranging from the perfect nuclear family of a mother, father, and two boys; to sporting events, family gatherings, and birthday celebrations. It blended in perfectly with the white paint on the walls, with not a scratch or smudge of dirt in sight.

You reached the top of the stairs and spotted Jisung’s room immediately. A small sign was tacked at eye level to the door that read, unsurprisingly, ‘Jisung’s Room’ in childlike font, a glimmer of his childhood innocence shining through his hard outer appearance.

Knock, knock, knock.

“Come in,” his voice called from inside. You cracked the door open to see Jisung, one earphone embedded in his ear, a pen in between his fingers, and a small smile curved on his plump lips. “Took your time,” he teased as he paused his music.

“Interrupt study time, did I?” You teased back, placing your bag at his door.

“If that’s what you want to call it,” he gave you a sly smile as he tugged the other earphone out and swung his chair around to you.

“Right,” you strung out the sound, paired with a sarcastic nod of your head. You leaned over, doing a quick once over of his desk, disappointed but not surprised when you found Jisung had not been writing out the notes you had set for his homework, but in fact, he had been writing what seemed like poetry on several different pieces of paper.

“Really, Jisung? I gave you one job,” you exasperated, collecting the pages to get a better look at it. Before you had a moment to decipher his almost illegible handwriting, he snatched them out of your hand.

“Don’t look at those!” He squawked, pulling them out of your reach, his cheeks colouring a dark pink. His reaction had caught you off-guard.

“Jisung, they’re just sheets of paper,” Jisung shook his head at your claim.

“To you, maybe,” he corrected curtly.

“What are they, then?” He opened the drawer of his desk, messily shoving the papers inside.

“It’s not important right now,” he dismissed harshly before seating himself on the end of his bed. You occupied his desk chair and cleared a spot to place your book and folder.

“Alright,” you began, retrieving an assignment from the folder, Jisung’s name etched on the paper in his teacher’s handwriting, “this is the next assignment you’ve been set, well reset,” you explained, watching his fingers steal the paper from your fingertips. He skimmed over the task outline, his eyebrows furrowing the more he read.

“Short story task?” He deadpanned, glancing at you over the paper. You shrugged at his apparent annoyance.

“I can give you some ideas,” you suggested, swivelling around to grab your book, accidentally nudging a pencil of sorts off the desk. Cursing under your breath, you leaned down and collected it off the ground. As you went to place it back on the desk, you noticed the gold inscription on it. ‘Salem Black Eyeliner Pencil’. You spun back around to the boy sitting not a metre away from you. You flicked your gaze between Jisung and the pencil. How had you not noticed?

“Are you wearing eyeliner?” You asked, amused. He snapped his neck towards you, seeming just as amused.

“Yes I am. Is there a problem?” He mused, going back to the rubrik in front of him.

“No, just didn’t expect you to wear it,” you admitted, twiddling it between your fingers.

Jisung shrugged, “It makes me look cool.” You cocked an eyebrow at his comment and scoffed.

“News flash, Park. Wearing eyeliner isn’t a personality trait,” you taunted. Jisung laughed quietly, leaning closer to you.

“Have you ever worn it?” He was met with silence, “No? Too much of a goody two shoes?”

“I-It’s not like that-”

“Then let me put it on you.”

You have no idea what compelled you to say yes. Maybe it was the cute way his lips turned up at the thought of you wearing eyeliner. Maybe it was the sparkle in his eye, or maybe it was just because you simply could no longer say no to him. You were now sitting opposite him, your hands resting in your lap and bumping knees with him. His left hand held your jaw to prevent your head from moving too much.

“Keep your eye open and look up,” he instructed, pointing to his roof, helping you notice the twenty or so glow-in-the-dark stars tacked to it. He began his fiddly work, keeping his hand as still as possible so as to not poke you in the eye. Your bottom eyelid spasmed from the sudden contact of the sharp pencil to it.

“Do I really need to tell you to stay still?”

“Sorry.”

Jisung’s finger wiped across his work, smudging and blending it a little, again causing your eye to twitch. He leaned away for a second to study his handiwork. You watched as a grin painted onto his pretty lips. Did you just call his lips pretty?

“Y/N,” your friend breathed, “you’re staring.”

“Am I?” You stuttered, your cheeks heating, clearly embarrassed. Jisung didn’t say anything, choosing to lean in closer. Your noses were millimetres away. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears. As if on cue, Jisung’s gaze dropped from your eyes to your lips. Hesitantly, he slipped his hand along your jawline and cupped it gently. You would’ve squeaked had your voice not failed you.

Slowly, your lips touched his in a gentle kiss. It was hesitant, sweet, and filled with teenage exploration. Feeling him kiss back, your hand fell on top of his and added to the sweetness of the kiss. Your lips moved in sync with one another, each movement more heart-fluttering than the one before. Jisung pulled away reluctantly, the sparkle in his eye growing brighter with astonishment.

“Woah,” was all he could manage to say.

“Woah indeed,” you gave a breathless chuckle, your lips stretching into a smile. Jisung nodded before turning back to his paper, now a little crinkled.

“You should probably go home. It’s getting dark and you’re already on thin ice with your parents,” he advised, giving you a tight-lipped smile. Nodding, you climbed off his bed, stacking your belongings on top of each other before pressing them against your chest.

“If you need any help with the assignment, you have my number,” you rattled off as you picked up your bag from the door, “oh, and Jisung?”

He raised his eyebrows at his name, “Hmm?”

“Thank you,” you said bashfully, “for doing my eyeliner and, you know,” you couldn’t bring yourself to say it, but he knew the silent words that died on the tip of your tongue.

“Anytime,” he winked and with one last giddy smile from you, you left the room.

Jisung let go of an unknown breath, slumping into his desk chair and opening his drawer. He retrieved the papers he had hastily stuffed away. His eyes lazily glided over the words, thoughts and rhymes messily scribbled onto the page.

He promised himself that he was going to rewrite it in a manner that was readable, but that’s what made it so precious to him. The raw emotion and scrambled thoughts were poorly printed, words crossed out for various reasons, the simple doodles that decorated the white space in between.

He exhaled again, picking up his pencil, searching for a blank space to fill in at least one thought. The scratching of an HB pencil against paper was satisfying to Jisung, but not as satisfying as the sound of the pencil nearly bouncing off the table from how hard he slammed it down. He gave a peaceful smile as he reread what he had written, the words flowing from his lips effortlessly.

“If only you knew how my heart races for you, Y/N.”

vi. Complicated

“Wonyoung, you know I’m not a party person,” you reiterated to your friend. She was begging and pleading for you to accompany her to the seasonal party she attended.

“Please Y/N, Jaemin’s gonna be there and I don’t want to show up by myself. I’ll look like a loser.”

“You’re gonna look like a loser either way,” you teased lightheartedly, tossing your phone to the side.

“Hey, that’s not nice. I’m practically your older sister,” she furrowed her brows at you.

“What’s in it for me?” You groaned, propping yourself up on one elbow to better glare at your friend.

“I heard Jisung might be there,” she gave you a suggestive eyebrow raise, “he’s skating buddies with Jeno, so knows Jaemin by association,” she continued. She was dead set on having you attend this party with her.

“Ugh. You know what? Fine,” you caved, your best friend’s face lighting up like a golden sunrise.

“Have I ever told you that you’re the best?” She squealed, tackling you in a hug.

You snickered, “Only when you get your way.”

“Oh, do not. Now, come on. We need to get ready,” she pranced around the room like a child on Christmas morning and you had to laugh at her ridiculously high energy. The things you do for friendship.

When you pulled up to the address of this party, your jaw hit the floor. The ‘house’ was more like a mansion and was like a sister location to the White House. The outside’s plain exterior was decorated with LED lights, displayed from hidden projectors, and you could already hear the bad EDM music blaring from within.

“W-Whose party is this again?” You asked your friend in a state of shock.

“It’s Donghyuck’s, but Chenle’s parents are out of town for the weekend, so he offered up his place,” you understood why Hyuck wouldn’t pass up on such a gracious offer. You felt like a fish out of the water as you walked along the cobblestone pathway to the entrance. You forgot what made you say yes to this, but you refused to believe that was by the mention of a boy’s name and informing you of his attendance.

Before you could work out what to do, Wonyoung had been dragged away by people who you assumed were friends of hers, leaving you alone at the threshold.

“Congrats on your first party,” you mocked to yourself, a hint of fear behind your words. This is not what you were about. You were all rules and dress codes, expectations, and high grades. Certainly not cramped spaces and sweat, loud music, and underage drinking.

You weaved through the sea of strangers, faces blurring together beyond recognition. You had no idea where you were going, looking around desperately for someone to stand out to you. It wasn’t until you fled to one of the many hallways that you finally did.

Ripped jeans, customised Vans, a silver chain, and a tank top of a band he definitely didn’t listen to. That was Park Jisung to a T. He hadn’t noticed your appearance, wrapped up in a conversation with three girls you didn’t recognise. You assumed they were friends of his. You took note of the phone in his hand, the Mickey Mouse cover confirming that it was undoubtedly his. You pulled out your own and typed out a quick text under his name.

y/n only: look behind you, dummy

You saw him crane his head away from the conversation to check the new notification. He squinted as he read it before turning around, looking around like a lost puppy. His lips curved into a grin that pushed up into his cheeks when his eyes fell on you.

“You were the last person I thought would show up,” he greeted you with a side-on hug, one you reciprocated. You let out a breathy laugh.

“So did I,” you explained, “my friend dragged me here.” He nodded as he tried his best to hear you over the thump of the music, loud enough to resonate in your chest. He hadn’t dropped his arm from around you, somewhat pulling you into him and allowing you to inhale the intoxicating amount of cologne he had. You weren’t going to voice your complaints, it did have a pleasant aroma to it, one that you could get used to.

“Judging by how you dressed, you’ve never been to a party,” he poked fun, looking over it. Embarrassed, you pulled your top down a bit.

“Blame Wonyoung. She convinced me to wear it,” Jisung broke out in a smile, his hand trailing down your arm.

“It’s fine. You look good,” he commented, “did you want a drink?”

Your eyes blew wide. “Jisung! Neither of us is old enough,” you sputtered, shocked beyond words. He couldn’t help but laugh at your naivety.

“Thank you for reminding me,” he said with gentle sarcasm, “it’s really not that bad.” You shook your head.

“My parents would kill me if they found out I’ve been drinking,” you declined, resulting in a snicker from your friend.

“Goody-two-shoes,” he teased.

“Lawbreaker,” you quipped, albeit weakly. Jisung shrugged and looked into the swarm of people.

“I’m gonna grab one. Wait for me, okay?” His hand came up slowly, his index finger gently brushing against your cheek. The small action was enough for butterflies to erupt and flutter in your stomach. He stared at you for a moment longer before dipping his head downwards and pressing his lips against your forehead. You felt like a malfunctioning robot, unable to process and turning you into a giddy mess as he disappeared into the ocean of strangers. Amidst your flustered state, you hadn’t noticed the three girls Jisung had been talking to before he ditched them to talk to you instead. The daggers they stared into the side of your head were sharp, burning hotter than your cheeks. It wasn’t until you heard voices that you saw them, ogling you like three hungry wolves hunting the same rabbit.

“Is that her?” One muttered to the rest of the group. You weren’t sure if they were trying to be discreet, but if they were, it certainly wasn’t working.

“Has to be. Did you see how quickly he left the conversation? He never acts like that towards any of us,” another whined, her arms folded over her chest and her bottom lip jutted out like a spoiled brat who had been told no.

“Right? He saw her and suddenly we didn’t exist,” the third one rolled her eyes, shooting you a side glance, “I don’t know what he sees in her. What does she have that we don’t already offer him?

Your heart hit the floor at her words. You had honestly forgotten how popular Jisung was, especially when it came to the ladies. You remember your friends referring to him and his friends as ‘heartthrobs’ and ‘stupidly attractive’.

With that in mind combined with what you had heard, you reevaluated your social status compared to him. How much higher he was on the social ladder than you, how he was compared to a god on a skateboard, and you were compared to nothing more than dirt under his mostly pristine Vans.

The thought of it all was sickening. Suddenly, your heartbeat was the only thing you could hear, the hallway felt like it was collapsing around you, and the butterflies started to lodge into your throat like bile. You shouldn’t be here. You don’t belong here.

Fragments of thoughts collided in your mind, each one a ridiculous question with no solid explanation. With every person you bumped into, a new thought would project itself into your mind like a lottery, and with every ‘sorry’ you muttered, you would compare that thought to the situation you currently found yourself in.

The atmosphere was suffocating, the heat from the attendants mixed with the amount of sweat in the air made you feel flushed, in some sort of drunken daze, despite not having tasted alcohol in your life. Your sights were set on the door, your one way ticket out of here without having to consider the window as an option.

Between his conversation with Chenle, Jisung caught something moving from the corner of his eye. Normally, he would’ve ignored it, waved it off as someone desperately trying to make it to a bathroom for whatever reason. However, something about it made him turn his head, and his eyes landed on you. You seemed skittish, unwell. He swore he hadn’t been gone more than five minutes.

“Hold that thought, and my drink,” he thrust his aforementioned drink into his best friend’s hands and rushed after you. He shouted your name over the music, his calls falling on deaf ears.

He squeezed and pushed through people in an attempt to catch up to you. Winter’s freezing breeze brushed against his cheeks, the sensation enough to make him shudder.

“Y/N, slow down,” he called after you and you stopped in your tracks.

“I’m going home,” you told him, refusing to look behind you. You couldn’t bear to look at him, knowing that if you did, you would come face to face with the reason those girls had talked about you in the first place.

“I know the first party can be intimidating, but it’s not all that bad. Trust me. I can show you,” he continued, his hand resting on your shoulder. You slapped it away.

“The party? This has nothing to do with the party,” you hissed at him, throwing him a sour look over your shoulder, “this has got everything to do with your little fanclub.” Jisung furrowed his brow in thought, recalling the situation.

“Mina, Hyejung and Yoonah?”

“I’m guessing so. I don’t know who they are,” you swallowed.

“That doesn’t make sense. Sure, they may be a bit thick, but I’m sure they didn’t mean it that way,” he defended, though his tone was gentle.

You scoffed, “I find that hard to believe.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He glared through squinted and harsh eyes.

“It’s supposed to mean that they helped me realise something,” you worded it vaguely.

“Care to enlighten me?” Sarcasm dripped from his words as if to hide the toxic venom behind them.

“They made me realise how girls act around you. Pretty girls. Girls who are aware they have a sliver of a chance with you. Girls that aren’t like me,” a singular tear slipped down your face. How cliché of you, “They were right. What do I have that they don’t already? I’m not worthy enough to even stand in your shadow.”

Jisung could only look on as tears fell like falling stars down your cheeks. He hated this. He hated seeing you like this, he hated this cold winter night and even a twinge of hate towards Jeno for convincing him to come along. The feeling was mutual between the both of you.

“I hate you, Park Jisung,” you hissed bitterly before walking up the path you had come from not twenty minutes beforehand.

Jisung silently watched you, the girl he had applied eyeliner to and kissed in his bedroom just days before, walk away from him. He felt empty, void of any and all emotion. The alcohol in his system mixed with the headache-inducing music and what just played out in front of him was enough to make him feel nauseous. He trudged back inside, mood noticeably dampened.

“Hey, what was that about?” Chenle questioned, his concern for his best friend grew when he walked past him and grabbed his skateboard.

“I’m going home. If anyone asks, I’m feeling sick,” his words were rushed, distracted.

“Dude, you can’t just say that and expect me not to be worried,” Chenle’s brows furrowed, spinning Jisung round by his shoulders, “what’s going on?”

“I’ve fucked up, man. I’ve fucked up big time.”

vii. you have one (1) new voicemail

“Hey, this is Y/N! I can’t come to the phone right now because I’m out living my life, but if you leave your name and number, I will get back to you as soon as I can!”

“Hey Y/N. It’s me, Jisung. A-Again. Look, I know you’re still upset at me, but please. Surely we can talk this out. Please call me when you get this. If you pick up and actually listen-or text me! Anything. Please. Bye.”

Jisung’s throat went dry when he heard your voice again. It was happier than it was the last time he encountered you. You hadn’t spoken to him since the party, whether it was at school, or through texts and missed calls.

You had started cancelling tutoring sessions for reasons he described as ‘bullshit’. Feeling unwell, even though he had seen you looking glowing and healthy that very same day, was your most recent excuse. It was one you had used previously, maybe because people tended to sympathise when they find out someone is sick. He didn’t like being lied to, but he can’t say he blamed you. Hell, he’d be lying to himself if he said he hadn’t used the excuse to get out of things he didn’t want to do.

However, this wasn’t some church activity his mother had signed him up for and he wasn’t eleven years old anymore. He was a high school student, a failing one at that, and his tutor, the girl he liked, refused to speak to him.

“Hey, this is Y/N! I can’t come to the phone right now because I’m out living my life, but if you leave your name and number, I will get back to you as soon as I can!”

“Hey. It’s me again. I wanted to follow up on when our next session will be. I have a test coming up and I’d really love it if you helped me study. Please return my calls or messages. Bye.”

“I know she’s upset, but I just don’t understand,” Jisung confided in his closest friend and partner in crime (sometimes quite literally) Chenle, “I don’t know how to fix it if she doesn’t speak to me.” Chenle nodded, pretending he understood the heartache his friend was going through.

“Have you tried approaching her? Like, at school or something?” Chenle asked, shrugging his shoulders slightly.

Jisung shook his head. “What am I supposed to say? ‘I know we’re fighting right now but let’s talk about that’?” Chenle gave him an apologetic smile and gave him the classic “maybe” shoulder shrug, hands positioned out and all.

“Helpful,” he rolled his eyes, falling back into his mattress and gazing at his ceiling.

“What did she say that night?” Chenle questioned, copying Jisung’s actions and laying next to him. His memory worked too quickly than he wanted to admit. The memory was stuck on replay in his mind, and had been for the past two weeks.

“She said something about pretty girls always falling at my feet. Made a comment that she wasn’t part of that category. How she wasn’t ‘worthy of being in my shadow’,” he made the air quotations as he recited his memory. Chenle hummed, the cogs whirring in his brain.

“So she feels unworthy of your attention?” He wanted to make sure he had Jisung’s story straight.

Jisung shrugged, “I guess so. In case you forgot, she hasn’t spoken to me since,” he said sarcastically and exhaled so harshly, his fringe flew upwards and stuck up awkwardly.

“She can’t ignore you forever. Especially if she’s your tutor,” Chenle offered, lifting himself up onto his elbows, now able to make eye contact with his best friend.

The best friend in question only sighed, muttering a ‘yeah’ before pulling his lips in a tight lipped smile, a habit of his.

The hours ticked by. Chenle had long returned home, leaving Jisung to his own thoughts and devices, probably the worst mistake anyone could make right now. His bedroom was completely dark, only the glow of his phone screen and the pale moonlight that shone through his window illuminated the small space.

He was staring at your contact. He hadn’t changed it since the day he logged it into his phone. The same stupid nickname with the same stupid emojis on either side of aforementioned nickname.

It wasn’t an unusual occurrence for him. You were one button click away, and yet he felt butterflies lodge in his throat, knowing the rejection that lay on the other end of the line. Jisung was strong, but temptation’s urges were stronger than anything he had ever encountered. He chewed on his fingernail nervously as the line rang. To no one’s surprise, you did not answer.

“Hey, it’s Y/N. I can’t come to the phone right now because I’m out living my life, but if you leave your name and number, I will get back to you as soon as I can!”

Before he could speak, he was surprised to learn that you had changed your voicemail.

“If this is Jisung…please stop calling me. Just don’t call me.”

viii. F in Feelings

Sunshine bathed the hallway Jisung trudged down, juxtaposing the horrible feeling that sat at the bottom of his stomach. He hadn’t tried to contact you since the last time he tried. That was nearly a week ago, and right now, he was scheduled for a progress meeting with Miss Barnes. He hadn’t done much with his schoolwork.

You kept cancelling sessions in the library, he had passed his English test by the skin of his teeth, and his grades were, once again, slipping.

As he walked, Hyejung and Yoonah appeared at his side.

“Jisungie!” Hyejung squealed, the nickname and pitch of her voice making Jisung grimace, “We haven’t seen you since Donghyuck’s party!”

“Yeah,” he said dismissively, trying to walk away.

“Oh come on, Jisung,” Yoonah whined, grabbing him by the cuff of his jacket, “we should hang out soon. Now, even.”

“I have to get to class,” he hissed, swiftly shaking off Yoonah’s manicured hand. Both girls looked at each other, both confused and shocked.

“Come skip with us, Jisung. Pretty please?” She batted her eyelashes at him, which only repulsed him further.

“I said no, Yoonah,” he reiterated bitterly, readjusting his backpack.

Hyejung scoffed, “What has gotten into you?”

“Yeah, since when have you been like this?” Yoonah added.

Jisung furrowed his brow, “Like what?”

“You’re telling me you actually want to go to class?” Forced laughter rang throughout the hallway, “You’re so funny, Jisung. Did you know that?”

“Like what?” Jisung repeated through gritted teeth.

“Like a nerd! You’re acting like a nerd. Are you trying to suck up to teachers so they’ll fix your grades?” Hyejung went to slap his shoulder in laughter, but he batted it away harshly. She hissed in pain (Jisung knew she was faking it. She just liked his attention) and looked to him, confused.

“What the fuck? Jisung, I-” Jisung cut her off.

“A nerd? Is that what you called Y/N?” That name. It felt heavy on his tongue, foreign even.

The girls looked confused, “Y/N?”

Jisung nodded curtly. “The reason I have been avoiding you lot is that you hurt her. She heard you talking about her and now she won’t talk to me,” he confessed venomously, anger rising quickly in his chest. His chest ached as he thought of you, the hurt expression you wore that night on the cobblestone path. Anger and hurt are a lethal combination.

“For your own selfish gain, you put someone else down, someone else who I care deeply for. How stupid and self-centred do you have to be to act so recklessly?” His words were like bullets, forceful enough to pierce through skin and loud enough to attract the attention of other students going about their day, “you want to do me a favour? Fuck off.”

The two girls stood before him bug-eyed, and with one final warning from him, they scampered away, their tails between their legs.

Jisung readjusted his backpack one last time before continuing down the hall to Miss Barnes’ classroom whilst occasionally throwing warning glares at students who were staring a little too long.

If he wasn’t upset before, he was now seething. The audacity they had was laughable.

Self-centred, airheaded idiots.

He knocked on the door, catching his teacher’s attention.

“Jisung, you’re here,” she smiled brightly and gestured to one of the two chairs placed neatly in front of her desk, “take a seat.” He nodded and accepted her invitation. “Now, we’re just waiting on Y/N,” she announced, plopping down in her chair and starting to remove his assignments from his folder.

“I’m not sure if she’ll come,” Jisung muttered, swallowing thickly. Miss Barnes looked up, concerned and a little confused.

“Whatever do you mean?” He felt his mouth dry out at her confusion. She doesn’t know.

“Ah well, you see, Y/N and I-”

“I heard my name.” Speak of the devil.

“Y/N, so lovely of you to join us,” Miss Barnes smiled, repeating the gesture she made to him when he had first entered the room. You reciprocated the smile and took your place next to Jisung. He swallowed thickly, deciding it best if he didn’t look at you. Did it make him look like a dickhead? Maybe, but he wasn’t ready to turn into a flustered, sobbing mess in front of his teacher.

“So, how has the tutoring been going?” She wasn’t asking him, she was asking you.

You visibly hesitated. What tutoring? There hadn’t been any for weeks, and it was obvious in Jisung’s grades as of recent. Your facade was faltering, and you needed to keep it up for the next few minutes of your life.

“They have been going well. Jisung struggled for a bit, but he was able to fix his study habits, and he has managed to make up most of his missing assignments, as I’m sure you’ve seen.” The most fluid set of lies you’ve ever told, especially to someone with so much authority over you. Sure, you had lied to your parents, who hadn’t? But to the faculty? Never in your life.

“I certainly have, and he’s made quite the improvement,” Miss Barnes agreed, licking the tip of her forefinger before flicking through the stack of assignments on her desk. Jisung reacted repulsively and made a mental note to wash his hands when she hands his assignments back to him.

“Jisung, your short story is absolutely beautiful. I had no idea you were capable of such things,” the compliment felt backhanded, but Jisung simply brushed it off for the time being.

“The development between the characters, the raw emotions between the both of them, the storyline. Everything was so well thought out,” she paused to skim over one of the paragraphs again, “if I’m being completely honest with you, I cried whilst reading it.”

You looked at him. Short story? He had never mentioned a short story to you. Sure, you had discussed that he needed to do it, the night that you both were majorly distracted by one another.

“Thank you, miss,” he mumbled, fiddling with the rings on his fingers.

“Now, even with all this good work and high grades I can award you with, Jisung,” she said, placing his work on top of the neat stack of papers, “there is one point of concern. Your last test score.”

Chills ran down your spine. You briefly recalled Jisung asking for help with his study for it, and yet his plea fell on deaf ears.

“It’s the first time you’ve received a score like this in quite a number of weeks,” the teacher explained, her face riddled with concern, “I just want to know how this could’ve happened.”

“Oh Jisung, you goose,” you piped up and slid the test paper towards you, “we went over this the week before, don’t you remember?” Lies dripped from your tongue like honey, your voice sickly sweet like it too.

He was absolutely dumbfounded. “What?”

“Come on, Dory. We covered this.” Your lies were multiplying, and doing so rapidly.

“So, he just simply forgot? Could it be to do with your study plan at home, Jisung?”

Jisung shook his head vigorously, “I-It’s not like that-”

“I’m sure these concepts just slipped his mind, miss. I’ll work with him on improving his study routine,” you gave the teacher a pseudo smile and gathered your things, “I have to get to my next class. If you’ll excuse me,” and with that, you were gone.

“Um, I-I have to get to my next class. Thank you for your time, Miss Barnes.” He grabbed his bag, and made a beeline to the door, hot on your heels.

“Wait, Y/N! Wait up,” he chased after you down the hall until you turned around.

Your face was void of any emotion when you swivelled around. No sickly sweet tone, no smile visible on your face. Instead, you looked annoyed that he had to interrupt your day.

“What, Jisung?” The way you said his name made his heart clench and twist to the point of near shattering, and yet, it pissed him off further. Acting like nothing ever happened, like you hadn’t just spouted countless lies to your teacher.

“What the fuck was that?” He pointed back in the direction from whence he had came. You glanced over his shoulder, pretending to look around. A few seconds ticked by and you turned your attention back to him.

“I don’t see what you’re talking about,” you shrugged your shoulders. He clenched his jaw in response.

“I’m not as dumb as I seem,” he spat, venom lacing his tongue, “don’t play it.”

“I thought I made it clear that I don’t want to talk to you,” your arms were folded across your chest, clearly disinterested in the conversation. Jisung’s anger bubbled and rose in his chest. How could you be so nonchalant? How could you act like there was nothing there?

“Now if you’re quite done, I have a class to get to,” and with that, he watched you saunter away, leaving him agape and speechless.

Were things ever gonna get better?

ix. this is what happens when i leave you unsupervised (kiss and make up)

Things were not improving. Not even the faintest glimmer of hope gave Jisung the slightest chance of having you back in the life he was cursed to call his own. He heard the rumours that were chanted in the hallways that the closeness between you and him was for a different reason and the turmoil was due to a disgustingly messy end to whatever students say your official title was.

“Dude, just ignore it. It’ll die down in a couple days. It’s not all that important,” one of his close friends Mark advised. For someone who always boasted about being the eldest and demanding the most respect, he wasn’t very wise, Jisung noted.

Nothing changed. Rumours continued to circulate, tension was high, and once again, his grades were slipping. Jisung was never one to believe in destiny or luck, but in this case, he truly believed that both decided to simultaneously fuck him over and run his senior year of high school into the ground.

His grades fell from a lack. A lack of studying, a lack of attention in class, a lack of tutoring sessions with you. Initially, he thought tutoring sparked the want to learn and improve for him, so he asked Miss Barnes if he could be tutored by someone else after making some excuse about you having picked up after school shifts at a new cafe.

It took him no less than three minutes of sitting at the same table as Shin Ryujin to realise that it wasn’t tutoring itself that sparked his want to study. It was you. The very same person who would evade him in the hallways like he was the carrier of some kind of deadly virus, would pretend there was music blaring in her ears to excuse why she wouldn’t answer when he called her name and didn’t seem affected by the rumours that were spiralling out of control.

He had started to frequent the skatepark more often like the place was a drug and he was an addict. His preferred time of day was in the ungodly hours of the night when the air was the chilliest and the population of the park was one, Park Jisung.

Setting his decorated board down on the ground, he took a deep breath. The week had been terrible, a repeat of the last three weeks and each spookily identical to the point where Jisung had pondered whether or not he was stuck in a time loop.

His heel balanced on the back of the board, the front stuck out over the bowl like a pirate’s plank, that is if a pirate’s plank was covered in stupid stickers and meaningless graffiti.

The euphoric rush of adrenaline was what he craved, the feeling that he was untouchable and free. It was his drug and over these last couple of weeks, he relapsed into his addictive ways in his desperate attempts of escapism. He rolled back and forth in the bowl like it was second nature, occasionally adding a trick into his routine. He felt free, happy, and relieved. Hell, he even felt invincible. However, that analogy was short-lived.

Amidst his impressive moves and tricks, he was gaining speed with no hope of slowing down anytime soon. His vision was blurred by the velocity of his skateboard, the wind whipping past his face and numbing his cheeks from the sensation. He went for another lap around the bowl when his footing on his board slipped, throwing Jisung from his skateboard with a crash.

Wearing pain ripped from his wrist down his arm, crying and hissing in pain. He clutched his wrist tightly and rolled onto his back, continuing to wail into the silent abyss of the night. He was sure that his wrist was broken, or at the very least sprained, but he didn’t have the stomach to look at it.

His phone was within arm's reach from him. Must’ve flown out my pocket when I fell, he thought. Bracing himself for the worst, he momentarily released his wrist to grab my phone. With one hand, he scrolled through his contacts until his eyes caught on one. His thumb hovered idly over the top of it, twitching in hesitation. It was your contact. He hadn’t altered anything about it, not even bothering to edit the emojis he had placed there out of it. He sighed gently, he knew his options were narrowed down to two; you would pick up or you wouldn’t, but the situation was much different than it had been over nearly a month, he thought it would be different. He was injured and he was in desperate need of your attention, medically and physically.

Ring ring! Ring ring! The shrill sound of your ringtone echoed throughout the room and more importantly, rudely interrupted your studying playlist. You glanced at the contact, a pit forming at the bottom of your stomach. You had given up your tally on how many times he had called after 17. It was getting slightly ridiculous, to the point that the sight of his contact sent your blood boiling. How many times did you have to tell him that you didn’t want to talk to him? How thick was he?

Enough was enough. The record had to be set straight between him and you, besides your ringtone was irritating. You made a small mental note on the urgency of changing your ringtone. You tapped the green button, stirring up a thousand nasty sentences on your tongue before he even had time to speak.

“Stop fucking calling me! How many fucking times do I have to tell you that I want nothing to do with you. Seriously, how delusional are you-”

“Y/N,” Jisung interrupted, his voice raspy and quiet. The sound of your name on his tongue sent alarm bells off in your head, something was wrong.

You softened, visibly and verbally, “Jisung, is everything okay?”

A halfhearted chuckle tickled your ear, “Not particularly.”

Your heart rate spiked as you thought about every horrible scenario your brain could conjure up in seconds.

“What’s wrong? Where are you? Are you hurt?”

His silence was telling as if it told a thousand words he couldn’t.

“Are you at the skatepark?”

“Yes,” he muttered, hissing at the pain that was planted in his wrist.

“I’ll be there in five minutes with a first aid kit. Stay put,” you instructed, clicking off the call without a goodbye, and began rushing around to find your coat and the first aid kit your family stored somewhere in the house. You located it quickly (it was under the bathroom sink behind the year’s supply of hair products) and raced to the door. Your parents’ confused demands to know where you were going so late at night fell upon deaf ears. Your priorities were on Jisung and making sure he was safe.

His voice rang in your ears. You recalled the way it broke in certain places like he was trying to mask his pain, his tears. You cursed yourself aloud for letting your damn pride get in between your job and Jisung. There wasn’t a day that slipped by that you didn’t think about the damned boy. Sometimes, you would groan and mumble obscenities when you did, but in others, an ache settled heavy in your heart.

The skatepark grew closer in your peripheral vision. Your legs pumped faster as you raced up the hill and looked into the bowl. There sat the black haired boy, his bangs still covering his eyes just like the first day you had met him. The only difference between that first meeting in the school library and now was he was nursing his wrist against his chest.

“Jisung,” you called to him. He snapped his head in your direction, his eyes softened the moment he saw you.

“You actually came,” he replied, a little astonished. You shuffled down the sides of the bowl in an attempt to not slip and land face first onto the concrete similarly to Jisung.

“Of course I came. You’re hurt. I couldn’t just leave you out here in the cold,” You exaggerated your sigh as you knelt in front of him, plopping the first aid bag beside you and rifling through it to find the equipment you needed to patch up your skater boy.

Your. That word, when associated with Jisung, felt foreign in your mind. Proclaiming the injured boy as yours, pretending that for the last two weeks that you hadn’t been ignoring him, ignoring his calls, his texts, his entire existence.

Yet you picked up his call tonight. You remember the gut-wrenching feeling that set in your stomach like cement when his caller ID flashed across your screen. Something compelled you to pick up the phone, and that ‘something’ was the boy who preferred his skateboard to his textbooks.

You gently touched his wrist, earning a hiss of pain in return. You glanced up at Jisung, whose eyes were glazed over with a thin sheen of tears and he jerked his hand away from you.

“I can’t stop it from hurting if you don’t let me touch it,” you scolded lightly. Jisung it down on his bottom lip in thought for a split second before letting go of his wrist and letting you take a look at his swollen wrist.

Your eyes blew wide. “Well, that’s a sprain if I’ve ever seen one,” you commented, which was met with a blank glare from him.

“Wow, really? I never noticed, Captain Obvious. Thank you for that astute observation,” his voice dripped with sarcasm, making your face fall into a similar expression as his.

“I could leave you here and let your wrist heal incorrectly,” you threatened, turning to pack up the first aid kit. Jisung visibly panicked and shook his head.

“That’s what I thought,” you couldn’t suppress the small smile that graced your lips as you picked a bandage and ice pack out of the bag and pressed it against his wrist. Jisung winced at the cold surface of the ice pack that made you laugh.

“How did you even get yourself into this mess?” You asked as you compressed the pack to his wrist, sounding a little astounded. Jisung snickered and shrugged his shoulders.

“I fell off my skateboard. There’s not much more to it than that,” he laughed, his shoulders shaking as he did. His laugh was like music to your ears, soothing and pretty to listen to. It was a perfectly full sound, like it would play whenever you opened the lid of a child’s music box.

“You never fall off your skateboard,” you crinkled your brows and looked him up and down as you removed the ice pack and picked up the bandage and began to wrap his wrist.

Jisung knew you were right. The last time he had fallen off his skateboard was freshman year, and even then, the biggest injury he sustained was a moderately sized scrape on his knee.

“Distracted, I guess,” he tried to play it off but you were stubborn and adamant.

“Bullshit,” you replied.

“Maybe,” he gave you a small smile.

“So, tell me.”

He swallowed thickly and diverted his eyes from yours, trying to pull his hand away from your touch, however your grip was firmer than he anticipated.

“Why are you acting like this?” Annoyance bubbled inside your chest.

“L-Like what?” He stumbled over his words, shifting his body weight onto his good hand, the uninjured one.

“Like you’re hiding something from me,” Jisung scoffed at your words.

“Why would I be so quick to tell you anything? You haven’t spoken to me in weeks,” he hissed as he attempted to push your hand away, yet was met with yet another fail. His words made you freeze mid-wrap.

“I was selfish, I know-”

“No shit,” he spat. Your heart sank in your chest at the sharpness of his words and the way they plunged deep into you.

“I’m sorry. Really I am,” you apologised gently, your thumb running over the back of his bandaged hand. It was a small gesture but one that meant a great deal to Jisung. It brought back colourful childhood memories of his mother and the caring and gentle ways she would handle situations with him and his older brother.

“You,” Jisung blurted out. You gave him a strange look.

“What? What about me?” You asked, making him shake his head.

“The reason I fell off my skateboard was that I was thinking about you.” His sudden confession took you off-guard, like someone had knocked the wind out of your chest.

“O-Of me?” You swallowed thickly. Had ignoring all of his attempts at conversations, all the chances of reconciliation made you a constant thought? A thought living rent free in his mind, and one that was eating him from the inside out.

“Do you need your hearing checked again? That’s what I said,” there was a teasing tone behind his words, and it lightened your heart.

“Even after everything?” He nodded, seeming a little distant to be thinking about the topic.

“As much as I didn’t want to, you seemed to be the only thing on my mind for weeks. I tried to convince myself that I shouldn’t miss you, but somehow that made me miss you more.”

You sat there, the silence between you growing larger. Somehow, you became hyper aware of how his hand twitched and moved under your touch. Your words sat uncomfortably on your tongue and you swear you could see the twinkle of the stars taking its pretty place in his eyes.

Jisung’s gaze drifted upward and the smallest yet prettiest smile formed across his lips. “You kept my beanie,” he noted aloud. His public observation made you fluster quickly, unintentionally telling yourself to touch the soft woollen hat. You fumbled over your words in a poor attempt to explain yourself, cut off only by his gentle laughter.

“Dork,” he teased, pulling it off your head. You squawked in surprise and swiped at the hat with your free hand to try and grab it. Damn Park Jisung and his long limbs.

“I’m surprised you kept it. I thought you would’ve thrown it out or burned it by now,” he said half jokingly as he admired the hat, swiping the pad of his thumb over the brand patch on the front of the beanie.

“I couldn’t bring myself to do either,” you admitted, shrugging your shoulders and disguising the fact that your heart was beating so erratically you could hear it in your ears. The thought of destroying something that a, didn’t belong to you, and b, belonged to the one and only Park Jisung, was against your moral code.

“Also, stay still, you need to elevate your wrist,” you instructed and lifted his forearm upwards.

Jisung threw the beanie back at you, “It’s cute,” he commented. The conversation fizzled back into silence and fleeting glances. Time froze as he tried to ignore the way your fingers would delicately glide over his like he was made of glass. His mind focused on how your fingers gently curled around the space between his thumb and his index finger.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” You asked as you fixed his bandage and tightened it. Jisung nodded wordlessly, ready for whatever question you had.

“Do you think we could…try again?” He picked up on the slight yet unmistakable crack in your voice.

You missed him, and greatly at that. It didn’t matter how many times you ignored his texts or calls or his presence when he walked past you in the corridor, you felt this twinge of pain in your heart. You still had to see his contact pop up in your notifications every time you looked at your phone. Hell, even your voicemails were full because you didn’t have the heart to delete his voicemails. Sure, you were an asshole to Jisung after the party, and you regretted every moment of it, but you missed him. Even right now, when sitting in his presence, you missed him.

“We could,” he said stoutly. His tone didn’t immediately indicate if he was joking around or not, but your gut told you that it held a slight bit of resentment. You swallowed thickly and sighed loudly.

“Would you let us?”

“I might,” he said in the same tone as before. You looked down before shifting on your knees.

“Jisung,” you groaned at his lack of response, and he visibly caved.

“Okay,” he breathed, “we can try again. But no storming out on me at parties,” he teased gently as he watched you tighten his bandage.

“Don’t take me to parties and that won’t be a problem,” you gave him a loose smile, scooting closer towards him. The dark haired boy gave a hearty chuckle, until he jerked his hand in the wrong direction, to which it was sharply cut off by a hiss of pain.

“Alright, maybe we should take you to the ER,” you suggested, “I may have done my best but I’m no doctor.”

Jisung nodded wordlessly, looking over to his skateboard. Dissimilarly to him, it had sustained no injuries.

“Don’t even think about, Park Jisung,” you warned him as you helped him up, trying your best not to worsen his injury, and better yet, get him away from that stupid ass skateboard.

“Well, I can’t just leave it here! I paid good money for that skateboard!”

“You spent $150 for a plank with wheels?”

“And I’m not letting some runny-nosed, sticky-fingered iPad kid get their grubby hands all over it.” He huffed, leaning down to collect his skateboard, “also, it wasn’t $150.”

“Oh really?”

His cheeks tinted pink, “it was 175,” he mumbled. You reprimanded him for wasting such a large sum of money on a piece of driftwood and Jisung only scoffed and rolled his eyes, reminding you that it was a very good piece of ‘driftwood’. Despite your distaste for the activity, you picked up his skateboard and tucked it under your armpit.

“Now no little sticky fingered kid can get their hands on your ridiculously overpriced skateboard. Happy?” Jisung gave you a closed lipped smile, his cheeks causing his eyes to disappear a little.

There was a pause.

“Hey, Y/N?”

You turned to him.

“Yes, Jisung?”

He displayed a small but grateful smile.

“Thank you.”

You reciprocated the smile, and a soft hue coloured your cheeks.

“Don’t mention it.”

The two of you walked together down the path. The air was still freezing and the silence between was just as bitterly cold. Your feelings on Jisung were mixed and stirred, like a drink whose flavour was bittersweet. Yes, you disliked him for the shitstorm of a party incident, but that didn’t stop you from thinking. Thinking about the hours you spent on him, hours of your life you would never get back. Did you really regret those hours? The answer was no. Time flew past before you could conceptualise it, which paled in comparison to how slow these last couple weeks moved for you. Not to mention that Jisung had loosened you up. You felt less tense in strange social settings and admittedly less uptight than you were before. He showed you that your teenage years were still meant to be fun, that you didn’t need to figure out what to do with yourself immediately. Jisung was your guide through a different side of the world you thought you knew.

You looked over at Jisung as you walked. He was nursing his injured wrist against his chest, his other hand helping support it. His bangs were pushed to the side and revealed his eyes and their deep shade of hazelnut brown. Slivers of light shimmered like stars in his irises whenever he passed underneath a streetlamp and swore he had this heavenly glow behind his figure, and you felt a little awestruck just looking at him.

The bright lights of the hospital buzzed quietly as you made your way to the front desk. A middle-aged woman with dark circles under her eyes and an expression that explained that she needed a cigarette and a nap sat behind it, mindlessly tapping on her keyboards and only drew her attention away from her monitor when the two of you approached.

“Can I help you two lovebirds?” Her comment alone turned the tips of Jisung’s ears pink and he looked away from the receptionist.

“Uh yes. My friend here hurt his wrist while skateboarding and I have reason to believe that it’s sprained,” you calmly explained as you pointed to Jisung’s wrist.

The woman leaned over the desk to get a better look at his bandaged wrist. She briefly raised her eyebrow before plonking herself back into her office chair and sluggishly pulled her keyboard towards her.

“Friend, huh? Is that what you young people call your partners now?” She joked. At least, you hope she was joking, “And does your ‘friend’ have a name?”

“Yes. Uh, Park Jisung,” Jisung spoke before you could. He may not know much but he can at least remember his own name for his medical records. His answer was responded with the obnoxious clacking of her keyboard before she asked for her date of birth, residence and emergency contact.

“Alright, just take a seat over there. We’re not busy tonight, if you couldn’t tell,” she gestured to the empty waiting area, “so the doctor will be with you shortly.”

You and Jisung thanked her before taking seats opposite each other and began to wait. The receptionist was right, they weren’t very busy. Obviously, they didn’t usually get patients who have sprained their wrist because they were trying to skate their feelings away. In fact, this whole situation was laughable. You swore you despised him twelve hours ago, but all it took was one phone call and you were running back to him. Did you even despise him at all?

Ten minutes had passed before the doctor emerged from the main hallway to the waiting area, asking for ‘a Park Jisung’. The boy in question pricked up his ears and twisted his neck in the direction his name was called. The doctor smiled widely.

“Park Jisung?” He said again in a cool voice.

“U-Uh yes, that’s me,” he stammered and scrambled to his feet. He turned to you, looking at you as though he was asking for your permission.

“Go. It’s your wrist that’s fucked, not mine,” a teasing smile displayed on your lips, “Unless you need mommy to hold your hand.”

Jisung scoffed in mock disgust and announced that he’d be back soon. With a final nod of your head, he followed the doctor into another room.

The room was in pristine condition. Every surface seemed to sparkle under the fluorescent lights and he was convinced if he looked at the counter, his own reflection would stare right back. The room was decorated with space related decals that were meant to appeal to young kids; planets and stars strategically placed on the door and wall next to the desk, and an astronaut with a visor that obscured his face and holding a flag that said ‘Dr Lim’. On the other side of the desk was a chair reserved for patients, and that is where Jisung sat himself down.

“So,” Dr Lim started, making Jisung turn his attention to him, “you’ve done something to your wrist?”

Jisung nodded to confirm his theory, lifting up his hurt wrist ever so slightly as to not cause himself more pain. Dr Lim gestured for him to bring his hand closer to him, and once it was in his reach, the doctor began unwrapping his hand.

“Did you wrap your hand yourself or was it the girl you came in with?” The doctor asked, noticing how well done it was.

Jisung shook his head, “Oh no, it was her. I think she did a good job.” Jisung felt flushed just thinking about those brief moments.

Dr Lim nodded, “She did a fantastic job. You’re quite lucky to have a friend like her.”

Jisung was sure that the good doctor hadn’t realised how much those words meant to him, but they made a small giddy smile settle onto his lips and painted the tips of his ears and the apples of his cheeks a dreamy shade of pink.

“Yes, sir. I am extremely lucky to have her.”

#neowritingsnet #ficscafe #nct writers #kpop #fanfiction #kpop fanfiction #kpop fluff #nct fanfiction #nct fluff #nct dream x reader #park jisung x reader #jisung x reader #park jisung scenarios #nct jisung #park jisung fanfiction #park jisung fluff #nct angst #nct dream angst