#if this reads weird i don't care i just want the idea out of my head LMAO

[duskyvenus]

A flower blossoms for its own joy: How will you bloom?

A PAC about your blooming moment and how you will get there. Close your eyes and take a deep breath. Open your eyes and choose the photo that speaks to you. 3 piles left to right. This is for entertainment purposes only, take what resonates. Feel free to check other piles if it doesn't resonate :)))

Pile 1

I'm seeing that we have some shy people here or people who put a lot of thought before saying something in the sense that they don't want to provoke someone. The message here is to be little unapologetic about certain things. You don't have to be worried about how others perceive you. "Say the weird thing!" I know this can be hard especially if you're not around the right people but the trash will take itself out if you are more open about your likes and dislikes. This is the way you will find the people that are truly meant for you, by letting go and cutting some people off. Also, I'm seeing that you need to practice gratitude and mindfulness. Keeping a journal can help. Travel to places you have always wanted to visit. The last thing that you need to do in order to "blossom" is to accept help. I get that it is nice being independent but being humans we need community. I'm not asking you to be very social and have too many friends, cuz remember the earlier point of not gaf about what other people say; yeah just do enough so that you're comfortable :) Remember that this is going to be a new chapter in your life so the key is balance. I think you can imagine your blooming moment by now. For some of you I'm seeing the presence of a significant other. This will probably be a slow burn.

Here's a moodboard for you:

Songs:

Thank you for reading!

Pile 2

I'm mainly getting the vibe that you don't take care of yourself enough. Like no skincare, self care or you're not eating healthy. I'm not asking you to follow strict regimes to become flawless, I'm just saying that maybe something's missing, some deficiency perhaps (?) idk. I also get the vibe that you are tight on money or grew up in a low income household. There's a lack of self love in this pile. You feel like you don't deserve love or that you're low maintenance because of your past relationships. (That's just not true!) The remedy for all of this is investing in yourself. You don't have to go broke looking after yourself; keep a journal, write down your thoughts, write down positive affirmations, maybe change your wardrobe (clothes carry energy), have a candle light dinner with yourself, etc. I'm also seeing that you could be really good at handicraft so maybe you should start a business. You could even be a good photographer. You just need to start posting you're a true artist! If you do things that make you happy and calm you're going to get closer to your blooming moment. You're going to have a really beautiful house. Your house will be adorned with pottery, paintings, etc. I get a self-satisfied vibe :)

Here's a moodboard for you:

Songs:

Thank you for reading!

Pile 3

I'm getting that this pile is very different from the last two. You probably have everything anybody could ask for or, you are working towards it. You are really close to blooming but that will need just a little more effort. You will bloom if you acknowledge your roots. You have to be very humble and thankful. Maybe you have lost track of your identity due to the grind and the struggle. Taking short breaks from time to time could be a good idea. You will bloom when you include others into your plans. Try giving gifts to friends just because. Tell them that you are glad to have them in your life. Go camping or hiking, reconnect with nature. For some of you I'm seeing an ancestor that protects you because you remind them of themselves :)) Apart from this I see that you're good at your job and leave on the dot which may have ruffled the feathers of a few people. But you don't have to worry about that. Just be your usual self. "Your coworkers can very rarely be your friends so make time for the friends that you already have." - words from your ancestor. I see you happy and smiling in your blooming moment. Shaking hands with important people, doing what you love to do :)) Your ancestors and spirit guides are smiling too <3

Hers's a moodboard for you:

Songs:

Thank you for reading!

#pick a card #pick a pile #intuitive readings #divination #tarot #tarot reading #tarotblr #psychic readings #tarot community #duskyvenus

[secretlythatsme]

anyway, i think my hot take regarding the whole canon vs fanon thing for the dpxdc fandom is that fanon is fine but it also gets boring. there's a reason why 90% of the dpxdc creative content feels exactly the same. i'm not trying to like,, shit on anyone's work, but so many of these fics are very, very similar in plot and dynamics. and that's a product of the fact that most of the fandom doesn't actually know anything about dc.

if you're relying solely on fandom osmosis to learn about the characters and events, then you end up missing out on a lot. it's not Bad, but it's basically the footnotes. the sparknotes. the starred review compared to the actual book. you aren't getting a lot, is what i'm saying. and that's why so much of the content feels exactly the same! it's because everyone is getting their info from the same decade old jokes. so creative work ends up blending into each other because the creators don't actually have anything else to work with (because they don't Know anything else) so they rely on the same five fanon jokes and headcanons that they do know.

as a dc fan, i Do encourage dpxdc fans to look into dc and read the comics and be more active on the dc side of things, not because fanon is inherently Bad, but because it opens up so many more avenues for creativity. i'd love to see people talk about danny fighting evil vampire nightwing or going on missions with karen or having fun with kara. but most dp fans don't even know characters outside of the most popular 10 and know even less about any of the plots or universes. so like, it's not exactly a surprise that every fic sounds the same. and like. does that not get boring to you guys?

#i'm sorry ik some of this sounds mean but its true aldghk #its not a bad thing but it is a noticeable thing #and im sure there are plenty of dp fans who are still having fun and dont mind this #but im sure there are also some dp fans who'd also like some variety #and that variety could be there! if you guys knew more about dc #there are so many characters! so many universes! so much you can do! #stop fighting about canon vs fanon and have fun with how much dc content there is!! #you don't have to read Everything but it definitely helps to read Some things #you'll get more ideas! more aus! more headcanons! more over the top jokes! #dc has SO much content for you to explore!!! why wouldnt you want to take advantage of that? #like you'll literally never run out of content to explore because there's just So much and they keep making more of it #even old forgotten characters get brought back every now and then #like! have fun with the canon that's there! and you'll be able to have more fun with your fanon!!! #dcxdp #im sorry but i really dont think ill ever be able to understand Why dp fans dont want to engage with canon dc content #its weird to me it truly is and i dont think anyone will change my mind honestly #ive seen all the replies and vague posts about it but it usually just amounts to #'we dont care about canon and we just want to have fun' which like. yeah. sure. but like.. #are you saying you would have Less fun if you knew more about dc? #like.. #if you genuinely like these characters then you would like their runs?? 😭 huh ??? #it doesnt make sense to me! i dont get it! if you like them why would you have less fun reading about them!! #what!! #anyway yeah my hot take is that you should engage with the source material because it actually makes things More fun #why have dp fans convinced themselves that theyll hate dc canon i dont get it #its like reverse stockholm syndrome

[flecks-of-stardust]

And They Shall Always Follow — A Rain World Short Story

The bond between siblings cannot be broken by mere distance. Though lost, its siblings will always be where it is.

The third sibling bids farewell to the big tree, followed by the memories of Survivor and Monk as they do so.

No formal content warnings for this piece of writing.

It wakes to the gentle nuzzling of Egg Parent, a delicate nibbling on the ear that rouses it from the depths of sleep. Not fully awake yet, it nibbles back, but Egg Parent pulls away, padding towards the exit with fading footfalls. Other Parent is already gone, leaving behind but a scent to indicate a presence that was once there. It stretches, and then follows Egg Parent’s tracks, the dirt soft beneath every step it takes. It knows what is to come.

The tree is always larger than it remembers, and it takes a moment to look up into the branches of the tree. The faint scent of blue fruit lingers even here, at the tree’s roots, owing to the many batflies that have roosted here through the light falling and rising many times over. If it squints, it can maybe see the fruit in the highest boughs of the tree, a lengthy climb away.

It turns to look at Egg Parent and Other Parent, watches the gentle, quiet grooming. The air is heavy, heavier than usual. Other Parent looks at it, eyes bearing a similar heaviness, and flicks an ear; a permission, one that is not needed, but granted nonetheless. Then, Other Parent turns away, and Egg Parent follows, grooming, waiting.

No time to waste, then. Skittering forward, it approaches the base of the tree, gazing at the shrubbery around. Long, spindly leaves drape over the ground, providing ample space to play with the strands. It picks two of the leaves up, folding them over each other. How did Brave do this again? It watched Brave, once, sitting out here at night, fingers moving fast to twist the leaves into delicate, pretty braids. More often, when light came again, it would find the leaves all tied together. Why that was, Brave never explained, but wherever Brave went, braided leaves would follow.

It asked Brave how to do this, once. Brave held its hands and the leaves, moving its hands for them, but the moment it let go, the braid fell apart. It tries now, too, one leaf over, one under, one looping around, but the leaves spring apart regardless. Brave had not laughed then, instead nuzzling the top of its head gently; it wonders what Brave would think now.

It tears off one of the leaves, tucking it behind its ear, and continues. Up and up it goes, hand after foot after hand again, slowly climbing the tree. On the first branch, a thick, round and gnarled piece of wood, it pauses, walking out towards the end. Soft sat up here often, much like Brave was often around the bushes. Sometimes Soft would eat fruit while it sat here watching the light fade, the juices dripping down to the ground below; sometimes it would join Soft, and Soft would curl Soft’s tail around it, nibbling on fruit as the light dribbled out of the sky, bit by bit.

Soft always had fruit nearby. Sometimes it was hard to tell what Soft smelled like, because Soft often had fruit juice smeared on Soft’s snout, and so Soft also smelled like fruit. If Soft groomed its head, then it too would smell like fruit; it used to push Soft’s snout away until Soft groomed the fruit juice off. Despite that, the bark here does not smell like fruit, nor does it smell like Soft. But here, with the light dappling onto it through the leaves of the tree, if it focuses, it can smell Soft here still.

Padding all the way down the branch, it plucks off a small twig and tucks it behind its ear. Then it leaves the way it came, continuing further up the tree. Long ago, Brave and Soft climbed this way with it. It was hard to get a grip on the bark then; now, it doesn’t think twice before ascending, climbing with all the speed that Brave and Soft had had. This moment had seemed so faraway then, too, as if it would never grow to be as fast or as strong as Brave, or as determined as Soft. But here it is now, making the climb on its own.

The bark grows rougher, and the branches thin. Deftly, it leaps from bough to bough, climbing faster and faster. The rush of air past it as Brave had tossed it at Soft when it was young resembles how the sky flows around it now as it jumps up on its own. And with a few more steps, a few more leaps, the fruit is within reach, batflies flying every which way around its head. Plucking a single fruit off its stalk, it gratefully begins eating it.

It peers back down as it eats, seeing the distant silhouettes of Egg Parent and Other Parent. Ever since Brave and Soft left, things grew quiet here, and the air always felt more still. One moment Brave and Soft were here, and then the next, they were both gone. Egg Parent never explained much; there was rain, and there was wind, and it was dark. And then they were gone.

It munches on the fruit some more. Wherever Brave and Soft are now, they both must be thriving. Brave always knew what to do, and Soft was always kind. If anyone could survive on their own, it would be Brave, and Soft would find a companion quick, too. Perhaps they have both just lost their way? They are both clever enough to find their way back home.

Home no more, though. Cramming the last of the fruit in its mouth, it begins the trek back down, half sliding and half climbing. It, Egg Parent, and Other Parent are leaving now to find a new home. Why, it doesn’t know, but whatever new home they shall come across shall be just as wonderful as this. Other Parent is good at finding strange, tasty fruits and resources, and Egg Parent is great at making new things. Wherever they go, it will be just as warm, just as safe. And wherever they go, Brave and Soft will follow, too, eventually. Because why wouldn’t they?

It reaches the ground again, and it scampers over to Other Parent and Egg Parent. Other Parent roughly grooms it again, cleaning the fruit juice off its snout, and then nuzzles it forward. With a tail flick from Egg Parent, they set off, walking away from the tree, and it follows.

A few steps in, however, it pauses, looking back at the tree. It’s still strange to leave the tree behind, even if it’s prepared to go. All its life it has been here, with Brave and Soft at its side. The new home will be safe, will be warm, will be wonderful, but it will never be old home.

Egg Parent chirps. It gazes at the tree for a moment longer, then turns away, bounding after Egg Parent. It doesn’t matter, though. Because no matter where it goes, Brave and Soft will follow. Because they always have, and they always will.

#rain world #rain showers #memory fragments #wahey part four #if this reads weird i don't care i just want the idea out of my head LMAO #... alright how the fuck do i tag this #third sibling #have i. used that tag before. god #i don't know if i want to tag survivor and monk. they're not technically here #definitely mentioned though #and the parents are mentioned #... eh. whatever. take it

[cruelsister-moved2]

ugh i kind of want to do my diss about music + trance states possibly gender mediation through trance states or something like that but ritual and trance have been a hot topic in ethnomusicology for ages so I doubt itd be very original whereas ik the stuff ive been getting into about englishness, the past, race, and cultural hybridity is more hot off the press or whatever plus ive done it before so i have a lot of groundwork already. and then I feel like what I would love to do abt neurodivergence would actually feel like the thing thats most important and revelatory but I genuinely dont know how I would actually go about it like i think id have to do fieldwork or something like I feel really out of my comfort zone when im not basically just synthesising theory from two previously unconnected fields I know that is basically what my brain is just good at 😭😭😭 basically torn between what I should do what I can do and what I want to do eeeek

#I think when term starts I can just like bring my three ideas to my supervisor and see what they say #Im literally just so scared of making a fool of myself that I want to come with like everything already laid out or something like #I have a year to do it I don't think I have to have started before term begins 😭😭😭 #and wrt the second one like that is important too it's just that firstly it's a very small field and secondly ik there are other ppl kind #of having the conversation as well now like since lockdowm #when I started they were still v much in nationalism and I was like I think race and the empire is like an underexplored component in this #but I think 2 years on there are definitely like wheels turning more now #and also outside of trad like it's been explored for years most of what I did was just like taking decades old work and inserting it here #its just that this is honestly a very very white field (which is exactly like. my point) so nothing really made it in #and like idk its weird as a white person to try n make my career out of that I don't want to do that Im also just like in 3 years of this I #have not had one non white lecturer or classmate #so it does feel like it kind of. is my job to make the ppl around me think abt like. why that is #ik if I go into arts education racial equality will always be a big part of my priorities but like. my goal would really be helping someone #to become A Voice on the issue rather than trying to be that myself which I think is an important distinction #sorry this is so long and. no one cares this is just my thinking to myself place and also I need to remember what my prev thoughts where #I mean if anyone is like oh that one sounds dumb or whatever then i welcome that ayeueisidhdj but im just like u don't like. have to read #this I know its sooo rambly

[deathspeaker]

Sometimes...

Sometimes you read something that is so... wrong... fundamentally wrong on every level and it's like... yeah we're probably on the same ideological 'side' but like... WHAT ARE YOU READING!? What... mistakes have brought you to these idiots that are so contradictory to evidence, research, and science, to arrive at these points!?

#vague posting #I don't care if the person I'm posting about gets upset #I am FAR TOO EXHAUSTED to deal with the many incorrect conclusions they arrive to #It is just not my job to educate people #I am not a teacher #I do not want to sink the time and energy in helping people unlearn weird ideas #there is an endless amount of possible avenues to educate ourselves online #just because a source matches your ideological beliefs doesn't mean it's a GOOD source #always question #especially when you read something and it really resonates with you #try to find multiple sources that agree #if an idea has value I assure you there will be multiple people saying the same thing or near enough #there is a ton of left-leaning beliefs that are toxic and stupid #beliefs also needs to be able to change and adapt to new information #I have no feelings towards this person other than a bone aching exhaustion #they're probably a perfectly cromulent person #we probably agree on a lot of things #I don't want to insult them or make them feel bad #but also... ???? #but I refuse to not call out wrongheaded beliefs just because they're on 'my side'

[paperclipninja]

I'm gonna sound very old person yells at cloud but I don't care, I feel like I need to say this. We all (well most of us) know that messaging Neil with any headcanons/theories/wishes/hopes/dreams to do with the show is a no-go because it could potentially compromise the story he wants to tell or ends up telling. And yes, he is a grown up who chooses what to respond to etc and I think it's wonderful he engages with fans and answers a lot of lovely and interesting questions about his process, writing and journey etc.

However, there is another reason not to send theories and ideas about how the show should go to the show creator in the hope of a response: it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter whether a theory is correct, or a speculation may or may not play out. That is why fandom exists.

Online fandom is where we all come together to yell and cry and throw around weird-ass ideas and theories and look at art and read fanfic and unite in our love of characters and a show. A huge part of being in fandom, is the way fandom theories become like an understood little bit of fanon lore that some people attach to, others disregard. But it doesn't matter. And part of the fun of fandom, is when a new season or a new episode of the show comes out, you have this collective catalogue of ideas and theories and headcanons and you get to yell and scream, "omg it happened1" or "lol that that thing was ever talked about" or "thank god that theory didn't come to pass".

Wanting to know now (not that we ever will) and not wanting to wait until the next season to find out the answers diminishes the fandom experience. I cannot stress enough how much we are in the absolute peak of the fandom experience right now. The between seasons time is the ultimate time to be a part of a fandom (as I'm sure many people are well aware), knowing there's another season coming energises everyone to create and connect and speculate and it's glorious! I know it feels like it'll be like this forever, but it won't. Next season is the last and yes, there will be a flurry and uptick of all the energy and excitement once again, and I absolutely believe Good Omens fandom will live on and remain active and thrumming. But there won't be theories and what ifs and hunting for clues for the next season, and over time it will dwindle a little and plateau and some people will fall into other fandoms, and while it will probably bubble away, there won't be the anticipation that sits with us now.

My point is, fandom is where we get to throw around ideas and flail and be ridiculous and also serious sometimes, but it's all for us. For the fans. Showing Neil theories or getting in a flap about a particular speculation and asking if x, y, or z might happen isn't just about putting the creator in an awkward spot, it takes away what fandom is about. Just let this time be ours. If you haven't been in fandom before, enjoy it! Don't be in a hurry to seek definitive answers or know things either way.

It doesn't matter if any or none or all of the things that float around end up being correct or incorrect. Fandom isn't about being right. It's about being a part of a community and being able to share ideas and it's about it being FUN.

So TL;DR Stop sending Neil fan ideas because that is for fandom, not for the creator.

#good omens fandom #good omens #just a little rant #sorry I don't normally get ranty but here we are #I'll get off my soap box now

[burntoutdaydreamer]

Weird Brain Hacks That Help Me Write

I'm a consistently inconsistent writer/aspiring novelist, member of the burnt-out-gifted-kid-to-adult-ADHD-diagnosis-pipeline, recently unemployed overachiever, and person who's sick of hearing the conventional neurotypical advice to dealing with writer's block (i.e. "write every single day," or "there's no such thing as writer's block- if you're struggling to write, just write" Like F*CK THAT. Thank you, Brenda, why don't you go and tell someone with diabetes to just start producing more insulin?)

I've yet to get to a point in my life where I'm able to consistently write at the pace I want to, but I've come a long way from where I was a few years ago. In the past five years I've written two drafts of a 130,000 word fantasy novel (currently working on the third) and I'm about 50,000 words in on the sequel. I've hit a bit of a snag recently, but now that I've suddenly got a lot of time on my hands, I'm hoping to revamp things and return to the basics that have gotten me to this point and I thought I might share.

1) My first draft stays between me and God

I find that I and a lot of other writers unfortunately have gotten it into our heads that first drafts are supposed to resemble the finished product and that revisions are only for fixing minor mistakes. Therefore, if our first draft sucks that must mean we suck as writers and having to rewrite things from scratch means that means our first draft is a failure.

I'm here to say that is one of the most detrimental mentalities you can have as a writer.

Ever try drawing a circle? You know how when you try to free-hand draw a perfect circle in one go, it never turns out right? Whereas if you scribble, say, ten circles on top of one another really quickly and then erase the messy lines until it looks like you drew a circle with a singular line, it ends up looking pretty decent?

Yeah. That's what the drafting process is.

Your first draft is supposed to suck. I don't care who you are, but you're never going to write a perfect first draft, especially if you're inexperienced. The purpose of the first draft is to lay down a semi-workable foundation. A really loose, messy sketch if you will. Get it all down on paper, even if it turns out to be the most cliche, cringe-inducing writing you've ever done. You can work out those kinks in the later drafts. The hardest part of the first draft is the most crucial part: getting started. Don't stress yourself out and make it even harder than it already is.

If that means making a promise to yourself that no one other than you will ever read your first draft unless it's over your cold, dead body, so be it.

2) Tell perfectionism to screw off by writing with a pen

I used to exclusively write with pencil until I realized I was spending more time erasing instead of writing.

Writing with a pen keeps me from editing while I right. Like, sometimes I'll have to cross something out or make notes in the margins, but unlike erasing and rewriting, this leaves the page looking like a disaster zone and that's a good thing.

If my writing looks like a complete mess on paper, that helps me move past the perfectionist paralysis and just focus on getting words down on the page. Somehow seeing a page full of chicken scratch makes me less worried about making my writing all perfect and pretty- and that helps me get on with my main goal of fleshing out ideas and getting words on a page.

3) It's okay to leave things blank when you can't think of the right word

My writing, especially my first draft, is often filled with ___ and .... and (insert name here) and red text that reads like stage directions because I can't think of what is supposed to go there or the correct way to write it.

I found it helps to treat my writing like I do multiple choice tests. Can't think of the right answer? Just skip it. Circle it, come back to it later, but don't let one tricky question stall you to the point where you run out of brain power or run out of time to answer the other questions.

If I'm on a role, I'm not gonna waste it by trying to remember that exact word that I need or figure out the right transition into the next scene or paragraph. I'm just going to leave it blank, mark to myself that I'll need to fix the problem later, and move on.

Trust me. This helps me sooooo much with staying on a roll.

4) Write Out of Order

This may not be for everyone, but it works wonders for me.

Sure, the story your writing may need to progress chronologically, but does that mean you need to write it chronologically? No. It just needs to be written.

I generally don't do this as much for editing, but for writing, so long as you're making progress, it doesn't matter if it's in the right order. Can't think of how to structure Chapter 2, but you have a pretty good idea of how your story's going to end? Write the ending then. You'll have to go back and write Chapter 2 eventually, but if you're feeling more motivated to write a completely different part of the book, who's to say you can't do that?

When I'm working on a project, I start off with a single document that I title "Scrap for (Project Title)" and then just write whatever comes to mind, in whatever order. Once I've gotten enough to work with, then I start outlining my plot and predicting how many chapters I'm going to need. Then, I create separate google docs for each individual chapter and work on them in whatever order I feel like, often leaving several partially complete as I jump from one to the other. Then, as each one gets finished, I copy and paste the chapter into the full manuscript document. This means that the official "draft" could have Chapters 1 and 9, but completely be missing Chapters 2-8, and that's fine. It's not like anyone will ever know once I finish it.

Sorry for the absurdly long post. Hopes this helps someone. Maybe I'll share more tricks in the future.

#writing #creative writing #writerscommunity #writers on tumblr #writing tips #writing advice #writers block #novel writing #fiction writing #writer #writers of tumblr

[1uvtae]

mistaken very much | jeon jungkook

★word count: 7.4k words!!

★genre: nothing but university romance fluff and very unfunny crack because i have the worst humor,,,look, there's this tennis classmate, and maybe....you've made a pretty big mistake by staring at his butt....? and somehow this turns into a 'crush' on the jeon jungkook that you have never even seen.

★summary/snippet: you don't think staring at his butt cuts straight to the conclusion that you, y/n y/l/n, has a crush on him....but whatever. it's not like you actually have a crush on him...right?

★kae chit chats: forget about motorcycle boy, let's invite tennis boy into the family!!!! this was meant to be posted on v day 2022 but i kind of messed up my sleep schedule and just completely gave up on finishing this lol...,,,nothing but a fluff fic :P and I picked this back up in 2024 lol

do you want to give me some feedback? request something fun? chit chat with me?!

this is my masterlist and drabble list for more of my works!

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

the feeling of being mistaken by someone is so fucking annoying. 

especially when you have probably just been mistaken as a pervert…!

the boy in your tennis class (not to mention, very handsome.) was just squatting in front of you, playing with the school campus cat that you have also been taking care of for months. you were also heading to feed the cat when you had already found him there, squatting down, caressing the cat. he was wearing a white button-up and baggy ripped jeans, but you can’t help but notice that….half of his shirt wasn’t tucked in? and it just looks like it’s dangling out like seaweed…? 

after staring at the white fabric for a few seconds, you look down at the bag of cat food, before putting it in your pocket, planning to feed the cat after he leaves. but when you lifted your head back up, your eyes met with the boy, there were no emotions in his eyes but you felt a hint of shyness rush to your head, and the idea that you were going to feed the cat floated away from your head as you immediately rushed back to your dorm. 

nayeon listened patiently and childish complaint that there was also someone looking after your cat, and how he mistook that you were staring at his ass for a good few seconds, before commenting: “don’t you realize that…he might think you were there to stare at him…..and how you ran away when he saw you…that’s quite suspicious…?”

you freeze. “holy shit.” 

nayeon giggled as she continued. “also last tennis session! you were zoning off at the back of his head, so when he turned, he gave you this weird look.” 

“no freaking way. i didn’t notice that.”

“it was a funny look, not going to lie.”

“help, what if he actually thinks i have a crush on him cause i keep staring at him?!” you try to contain the racing thoughts, and contemplate if you should’ve just kept your eyes pierced on the ground and not on his ass, or the back of his head.

“i mean he’s pretty good-looking, it won’t be weird to have a crush on him.”

you roll your eyes at her comment. “i don’t get it, it doesn’t mean everyone has to have a crush on him just because he’s good-looking, nayeon.”

it was the next tennis lesson, and to avoid more unnecessary interactions, you avoided all eye contact with anyone, but that didn’t stop nayeon from squealing and reporting every small movement from the boy. “he’s facing your direction!” “oh my gosh he’s right behind you!” your hands start to clam up with sweat with every small comment from nayeon. “stop looking at him, gosh.” it was after the lesson that you realized how even more suspicious you looked trying to avoid any eye contact and how often nayeon reported his movements in small mutters and whispers, and how you most definitely looked shy enough for anyone to mistake that you like the ‘good-looking tennis classmate’.

the teacher checks names off the clipboard as she reads two names at once to put their tennis equipment away. “nayeon, y/n.” she looks up at the two of you and back to the heavy boxes of tennis rackets. “the boy in the back, the tall one, help them with the boxes, please.” you and nayeon turn your head back in sync, to see the familiar boy nod and walk towards the both of you. you let out a sigh as nayeon excitedly squishes your arm, another strike. 

is this perhaps….hopelessness? 

yup, not only the boy, but everyone in your tennis class probably thinks that you have this awfully obvious and big crush on this person who you don’t even know the name of.

he cuts in front of you two, the three of you in complete silence. you and nayeon follow him like two cautious cats. he stops at the heavy boxes, and you two walk up to help him, but before you know it, he has already picked up the boxes with one hand, the other hand reaching into his pocket to answer the buzzing phone. what the fuck. you two shared a glance in disbelief, not going to lie, that was very, very, attractive. “damn. pretty tough.” you mutter under your breath and feel the two people from either side look at you immediately, his hand still holding the buzzing phone and nayeon giving you a concerned glance. 

the way back to the dorm was filled with your quietness and nayeon’s laugh. “he probably used to think you were just someone who had a crush on him, but now he thinks you are a literal weirdo who has a crush on him.” you run your hands through your hair in annoyance, how did the sentence even slip through your mouth? looks like you won’t be getting sleep tonight. and you sure didn’t, you kept rolling and shuffling in your bed to think of a tactic to this misunderstanding that you and the tennis boy had going on, and with your smart and very intelligent little brain, you figured out a plan.

“to not make him think that i have a huge fucking crush on him, i am going to pretend i have a crush on somebody else.” you take a sip of your coffee as nayeon nods. “hmm…who else is there to ‘like’?” you think hard before coming to the conclusion that there is no one in your tennis class that is worth ‘liking’. nayeon helps you to think for a good minute: “min yoongi from music…?” you shiver at the thought of your cold and savage music seatmate. “if you really want me to die, just say that.” nayeon chuckles at your comment before going back into the deep search for a suitable ‘crush’ for you. “i heard the tennis dude is in geography.” 

“geo!” another friend of yours popped into the conversation. “they have so many hot guys there!” 

you felt a rush of excitement: “recommend me some!”

“what’s your type?” 

“maybe… a pretty quiet one, maybe shy even? not that popular so no one will care if i like him, you know?”

nayeon shakes her head. “you can’t expect someone to be good-looking and not popular, y/n.”

“i think jeon jungkook.” your other friend suggested. “he’s quiet but literally more than half the school likes him, but that won’t be as weird if you also ‘like’ him, cause everyone likes him.” 

nayeon nods in agreement. “never seen him in my life, but i swear i hear his name mentioned on campus wayyy too often.”

hm. interesting.

the next week came by fast, before class you made your way to the disposal machine and picked up a can of coke, putting it in your backpack before heading to tennis class.

it was free time when you made your way to where the tennis boy was, he was practicing with the wall, he spared you a glance as you walked towards him, and back to practicing with the wall. you take a big breath as you walk towards him, the coke still in your backpack, expecting that when he drops the ball, you are going to pick it up and hand it to him, making it a perfect opportunity to start the ‘conversation’. you lean against the fence, waiting for him to drop the ball. 

not even once has he dropped the ball in the 10 minutes you have been standing here. you feel your legs start to cramp up. finally, he decided to rest for a good while, catching the ball with his right hand as it bounced off the wall, he lazily walked to his bag. you immediately rush over with the can in your hand. he looked at the can in your hands, then backed up to you. you couldn’t help but take in his facial features. it was the middle of the day, and the sun was high up in the sky, warming everybody up, and it seemed to warm your cheeks up when you made simple eye contact with the boy. 

he raised an eyebrow at you as if he was asking a rude and straight ‘what are you doing?’ with his facial expressions. you felt a small taste of regret that second, thinking that this boy definitely thinks you have an obsessed crush on him now, so the only thing you can do now is hope that the next few things you are going to say work out. 

“i bought coke for you.” you mumble as he takes a big sip from his bottle of water. “i don’t need that.” he has a straight face and everything. you take another deep breath as you figure out what you are going to say next. maybe this can be a little fun.

“are you free right now? i have something i want to say…” you tried to act as natural as you could. “i'm gonna practice.” he replied coldly before taking his equipment back to the court, your hand found his arm quickly, then released it in a second when he stopped in his tracks. “it’s just a few sentences.” you used a pleading tone, hoping this would convince him that you were going to ‘confess your crush’ to him. he patiently stopped and looked at you. you start your act, stuttering and acting shy, everything you have seen in romance confessing scenes in films. “well. i’ve noticed you for a long time…” you take the can of coke to hide your face as if you were a blushing mess. “i don’t know if you noticed that…” the ‘obviously you have a crush on me’ expression never left his face. “haven’t noticed.” 

you suppress an eye roll. “all i wanted to say was, i knew you’re in geography…i just wanted to ask if you know a jeon jungkook, i’ve had a crush on him for pretty long, can you help me to get his number?” you definitely want to give yourself a pat on the back, a round of applause even. you felt proud of yourself, proud that this ‘plot twist’ you have created for him, will deflate his ego and convince him that you never had your schoolgirl crush on him, but on this jeon jungkook that you have never met.

the tennis boy didn’t even raise an eyebrow at the comment, still calm as ever. “i don’t know him.”

it's even better that you don’t know him. you thought. all you wanted to know was to share the signal that you have a crush on someone who is not him., you didn’t even care to want jeon jungkook’s number, it was all an act to ‘spread the message’, you pretended to be extremely upset that he did not know this crush of yours, whining an ‘awe~’ and nodding slowly, “okay then…”, leaving him to walk away without sparing a glance at you.

you don’t know what’s wrong with you now. 

before you and this tennis boy had this thing going on, you never seemed to be seeing him around campus. but now after the last interaction, you seemed to be seeing the person everywhere. seeing him in the supermarket, seeing him in the cafeteria, seeing him in the library, seeing him between classes. 

and you know what’s more ironic? it’s always when you’re also with nayeon. you know nayeon’s dramatic acts are to notify you that ‘the boy that thinks you like him’ is over there, but from someone who doesn’t know this situation, it looks like she’s trying to tell you ‘there’s-the-boy-that-you-have-a-huge-mother-fucking-crush-on’. 

and the weird thing is, although you had explained that you like jeon jungkook, he seemed to still have the attitude that you are obsessed with him. especially when you bump into him and are forced to mutter a ‘hi’ or ‘hey’. all he would do was a gentle hum in response, or just nod. and you made a keynote to yourself to never say hello to him ever again. 

the main point was when you and nayeon saw him in a convenience store. you two quickly made your way out as soon as he and his friends walked in. but nayeon saw somebody she knew and immediately started chatting along as the social butterfly she was. you watched from your side-eye as he and his friend walked out of the door.

“isn’t the girl in the beige crew neck your little fangirl?” an unfamiliar voice came from the side, from a boy with soft blonde hair, walking next to the tennis boy. 

and then you hear it.

you hear a “mhm” of confirmation from the tennis boy. you felt a rush of anger run to your head as you retained yourself to scream at them. and then you watch the blonde boy spot you and nayeon, awkwardly, he turns away quickly and walks off with the other. but the other did not awkwardly leave, turning back to glance at you without shame. and that boiled your blood even more.

on the road back all you did was scream and mutter some curse words dedicated to the unshameful tennis boy. 

“don’t you think he might think that the whole jeon jungkook thing was an excuse you used to get closer to him?” nayeon spoke slowly after you had expressed all your anger. and you feel your mind pause. 

yup, it sure is hopelessness now if it wasn’t already hopelessness before.

the second morning. you woke up early and the first thing you did was to check on the cat, but you were extremely cautious. you did not want to bump into you-know-who, so you woke up extremely early so you could avoid seeing him. but after squatting down for just a few minutes. the expected happened. there he was, but this time wearing a black silk button-up, the buttons halfway up and you couldn’t help but take a few seconds to stare at him. but it’s okay because you were here first, so that makes you the person he should be waiting to finish with the cat. 

he stopped in his tracks when he saw you, standing in his spot, waiting for you to leave. 

‘do you get it? do you get it!’ you want to scream this at him. ‘this scene seems familiar! because you were in his spot the other day! you were just simply waiting! you don’t have a crush on him!’ you want to shout this all, but you were busy with the cat.

but weirdly today, the cat doesn’t seem to like you. it didn’t even take a single bite from the tuna stick you were feeding it, and it avoided your pats and touch today. 

well..that’s not a very good sign, is it?

“it doesn’t like being touched.” he walked closer, “it might scratch you.” you knit your brows at his speech, you know that. you were here taking care of the cat earlier than this tennis boy…yet he’s giving instructions on how to take care of the cat??

 “i know this cat.” you explain. “it likes me a lot.”

you pause when you watch the cat move away from your touch after your sentence, the cat avoids your touch as it slowly trots over to nudge his leg instead. he squats down and caresses the cat gently, then lifting his head to look at you with a glance, a look that made your blood boil. the competitiveness in you starts burning up like fire, you wave at the white cat, gesturing for it to come back to you. “lulu, over here.” 

the cat doesn't budge, instead, it gives you a lazy side-eye look and back to enjoy the boy's company. is this perhaps, favoritism?! 

“don’t randomly give it names.” he speaks slowly and quietly behind you. “what’s your problem?” you snap back with a tone that does not sound very friendly, and he stays silent as you stomp away. “i’m leaving, lulu!” you yell back one more time, and the cat: still under his touch, eyes closed, relaxed and unbothered. 

okay then…this was your first time fully understanding the meaning and the understanding of pretty privilege. 

“gosh, i was so hurt by that cat.” you complain back in your dorm. “it isn’t supposed to be like this! normally if you give it food, it will love you…but today it was completely under that tennis boy’s control. this is rigged.” nayeon pats the sheet mask she had on her face. “you saw him again this morning?” you sigh. “yeah, unlucky isn’t it?” 

“he probably also thinks he’s pretty unlucky too.” 

“if i knew he was gonna be there, i wouldn’t wake up so early to avoid him.”

“i was thinking,” nayeon starts again with the tone that you do not like very much, knowing this would be another thing to worry about tonight. “what if he thinks you were there just to create this ‘oops i did not know you were going to be here’ scene? like you were waiting for him to come and see the cat too to create this awkward meeting.” nayeon’s guesses always feel like lightning that struck straight into your soul. “and you said the cat didn’t really seem to like you, doesn’t that look like as if you aren’t close with the cat, as if you were there for another reason…? 

that night was one of the sleepless nights filled with overthinking and worry. 

you were heading over to the cafeteria the second day with a friend. in the crowded and loud dining hall, you hear a loud shout of ‘jungkook!’ from one side to the other. hearing the familiar yet unfamiliar name, you turn your head back in curiosity, but instead, meeting eyes with the tennis boy. 

he was sitting at a table with 4 other boys, including the one blonde boy you saw last time when they were walking out of the convenience store. you tap your friend’s shoulder. “hey, turn your head to the big table with the 5 guys, is jeon jungkook in there? don’t make it obvious, please.”

you watch her basically throw her head back aggressively for what seems like 2 minutes, then turn back and nod. “yeah, isn’t he fine?” “holy shit, can you be more obvious?!” but hearing that your ‘crush’ is also on that table, you slowly turn your head once more and scan the boys, then realizing that out of all the boys, the tennis boy is still the most attractive one for you. although you don’t know which one is jeon jungkook, none out of the 4 boys seem to be your type. 

your shoulders drop a little without realizing, disappointed in your ‘crush’. in fact, will the tennis boy think you have bad taste? 

wait, why would you even care about him in the first place…right…?

the second week of tennis class, also your second streak of buying a can of coke for him. but this time, he doesn’t seem as cold and weird as last time. when he saw that you were waiting for him by the side, he dropped his equipment and walked slowly to you. “what?” you feel yourself swallow out of nervousness. “i saw you guys eating lunch last friday.” his brows knit slightly. “who?” 

“jeon jungkook.” you reply quickly as if the name burns your tongue. “you said you didn’t know him last week…” he used an unspeakable emotion to reply. “i think you have the wrong person.” you were confused at the comment, but continued once more. “just say if you know him or not.”

“it doesn’t matter if i know him or not.” he licks his lips and runs his hands through his dark brown hair, maintaining eye contact with you and you feel you slowly lose your breath at the intense eye contact. you clear your throat and hand the can of coke to him, before taking a plastic bag containing some snacks. “the coke is for you, and can you hand these snacks to him?” before he can refuse it, you add another sentence. “if he doesn’t want them, take them for yourself, don't return it back to me, i would feel  very embarrassed if you did.” 

he stayed silent for a few seconds, looking at the items in your two hands, then lifting his left hand to take both the cans of coke and the plastic bag. you let out a long breath. you hope this is obvious enough that you, y/n y/l/n, do not have a crush on him. or any liking. nothing. 

you relax back into your chair, taking in your cup noodles as you listen to the gossip and events that happened today. there seems to be a geography boys vs gym boys basketball game that went on this afternoon, which turned out to be extremely intense and entertaining to watch. your ears perked up at the mention of geo boys. 

you swallow your bite. “so who won?”

“duh, of course gym, they’re the professionals. how embarrassing would it be for them if they lost?!” your roommate answered, “geo lost because two of the best players got hurt throughout the last half of the game.” the thought of the tennis boy ran into your head, and you could not help but wonder if he got hurt too. 

“oh yeah, the jeon jungkook you have a ‘crush’ on also got hurt. think he tripped and hurt his knee or something.” she continues. you nodded before turning to nayeon to ask;“what about the tennis dude? did he play today?” 

“he played too, he was so good, i think i saw him also get hurt.” nayeon lets out a nosey ‘aww’. “you care about him quite much y/n….” you hesitate for a long time, putting yourself into deep thought. “nayeon…this is weird but, do you think that you somehow programmed my brain to take an attraction to him. because i don’t know why i’ve been thinking about and meeting him so much.” 

nayeon knits her brows. “just say if you like him or not…anyways, there’s another game tomorrow, wanna go watch?” 

you don’t know how you ended up here.

you thought you and nayeon were already early, but the court was still jammed with people. you tried your hardest to squeeze into the crowd, once you had finally worked your way to the front, your eyes caught him. 

he stood in the corner, talking to his teammates, the red basketball jersey lazily overlaying a white tee, he ran his hand through his hair, and your eyes could not move away from him. a shout from a girl next to your side entered your ear. “jungkook looks so good?!” but you didn't have the attention for jeon jungkook, your eyes and mind was completely taken away by him instead. 

the basketball game started, your eyes followed him as he took a sip from his water bottle, and high-fived his teammates before entering. a scream came from the two girls next to you. “go geo!!!” the scream caught his attention, causing him to turn towards your direction, spotting you standing next to the two girls. you make a good second of eye contact as you look away and cheer for jungkook instead. 

after giving jeon jungkook a good shout, you turn back to him, but he is still looking at you. you did not know what to do, avoiding eye contact, you scanned the entire court with your eyes but just, not looking at him. he moved and looked away to get ready with his teammates, and you felt obligated to stare back at him. you watch him as he looks away, then lowers his head to suppress a small smirk. 

and that smirk did a lot to you, you could not help but pinch nayeon’s arm. 

the sharp whistle brought you back to life, the game has started. you did not understand basketball and didn't watch games in your spare time. so the entire time, you just kept your glance on the tennis boy. 

and then you spot how his leg definitely got slightly injured during the last race, you could tell that his leg was a little uncomfortable when he was moving intensely. 

but that leg did not stop him from aiming and playing perfectly, when he ran past the crowd, it felt like a swoosh of fresh wind. midgame, the ball has gone out of court. it rolls towards you and you watch as he comes jogging to pick the ball up, then accidentally stepping on your shoes. it was a light step but he immediately looked up at you and apologized. you frown playfully and he moves closer to you. “step on me and then we can be fair.” you bite your bottom lip to suppress a dumb grin, shaking your head and gesturing him to go back into the game. 

you look to your right and see the group of girls rolling their eyes at you.  …arent they obsessed with that jeon jungkook or something…?

without a doubt, geo had won the game. you watched the large crowd of girls rush to hand the players drinks and ask for their numbers. you dragged nayeon away from the crazy amount of students that had created a crowd circling the team of boys. and you two make your way towards the convenience store on the other side of the road. 

you pause in front of the drink aisles, struggling badly to pick a drink. just as you were deciding, a hand reached out from behind you to grab two bottles of coke. “oh, sorry-” you turn your head to be faced with the familiar tennis boy. he walked slyly to the counter, paid for the drinks and handed one of the bottles to you. “sorry for stepping on you during the game.” you shake your head, mumbling that it was fine and takes the bottle with both hands carefully as if you were the one who did something wrong. 

he pauses for a second and grabs the bottle back from you before opening the bottle cap for you naturally in a swift motion. “did you not go and offer your little crush a drink?” he said with a teasing tone. you answer convincingly: “there were too many people standing around, i couldn’t squeeze in.

”oh.” he cocks an eyebrow as he slowly takes his phone out of his pocket. “i was talking to jungkook, telling him that a girl in my tennis class is interested in him, and he agreed to…give you his number.” you freeze instantly. “you want it?” he waves his phone at you. 

this is…a little awkward. to be extremely honest, you don’t want his number, but seeing his bright glassy eyes staring at you, it is a little hard to refuse to take the number. you nod slowly as you bring out your phone, and enter the number into your contacts.

on the way back to your dorm, your finger trembled to type something into the chat, all you managed to enter the chatbox was a subtle and small smiley face. 

quite awkward considering the fact that you don’t even know what this jeon jungkook looks like.. 

he replied fast, with just a casual:

‘hey’

you told him that he played really well during the game. 

jungkook thanked you and said that he had received the bag of snacks. 

well, this is a great start. but you can't help but think about what if this jeon jungkook takes an interest in you. 

when you don’t even know who he is in the first place.

the second week of tennis class, you watch the tennis boy walk onto the court with a box of gourmand chocolates. nayeon nudges you when she sees him walk towards you, and stop just in front of you. 

he looked especially calm: “he asked me to hand you this.” you reach your hand out take the pink box of chocolates and thank him with a mumble.

after class, jungkook texted you to ask if you had received the gift, and you two had some small talk. conversations about how your classes went and about his day distracted you, almost bumping into a tree. nayeon laughs as she drags you to the side before that disaster, “might as well go for this jeon jungkook if he’s brightening your day so much, y/n.” 

you lock your phone before linking arms with nayeon. you’ve never realised how often you and this jeon jungkook got along just simply by texting. this situation seems to be a little flirty since he knows that you “like” him. 

“i don’t even know him!! this was just a misunderstanding, there’s no way will i go for him.” nayeon nods her head. “of course i know it’s a misunderstanding, but it seems like it is a good misunderstanding- wait, you’re not telling me that you actually like that tennis guy…right?” 

you stop in your tracks, not saying a word. nayeon cleared the silence: “if you reckon you like the other guy, let jeon jungkook know that this was all a misunderstanding.”

 “that's exactly what i wanted to do, see?” you unlock and show her the texts. “i asked him if he wanted to go out for boba, so i could explain this to him in person, but he rejected and said he has training.” 

he rejected your offer that day, and the day after. 

neyeon jumps up when you read the “sorry, i also can’t do today.” text out: “what the heck!!!! there’s no way he’s that busy?? oh my gosh- he’s a fuckboy!! he’s a literal f-boy that can’t make enough time for all his girls-” 

excellent idea, nayeon. 

you sigh and nayeon notices how your shoulders dropped slightly.

“y/n, how about you tell the tennis guy then, cause you also have some misunderstandings with him, clear the air with him, and he can let jeon jungkook know since he obviously doesn’t have time for you”

you walk into the dining hall, only searching for the silhouette of one specific person. and there he is, sitting alone, enjoying a burger. you walk to the seat across from him, “hey.” the pair of deer eyes lands on you, and he raises an eyebrow. “what?” 

you move at the speed of a snail, taking a seat in front of him: “i have things to tell you.” 

the tennis boy puts down his meal, and slowly squeezes a sentence out his mouth. “then tell me.”

“i was talking about you because you didn’t tuck in your shirt properly the other day.”

“........i wore it like that on purpose.”

“ i was feeding that cat ages ago, like, wayyyy before you did.”

he brought the burger to his mouth, took another bite: “yup. got it.”

“okay then,” you took a deep breath, “i don’t like jeon jungkook, it was all because you misunderstood me, and thought i had a crush on you- which i do not!” you hear a soft chuckle leave his mouth. dude? “what are you laughing about.”

he swallows his bite. “nothing, you go on.”

“i’m wondering if you can go explain this to jeon jungkook….for me?” 

he looks up at you once again. “why should i go explain this to him? you should go yourself.” gosh, he is insufferable. “i really would love to! but i’ve asked to see him multiple times, but he says he is busy every single time!” 

another light chuckle. 

“don’t even laugh.” you feel humiliated, what is the matter? “i’m being deadly serious, can you literally take me seriously?” 

“do you know why you can never seem to ask him out?” the boy stares into your eyes with a hinting glance that you don’t specifically like.

you’re so confused, “no, i don’t know. but that’s literally not the point.”

“well, here’s the point.” he sips his coke and swiftly reaches into his backpack to take out his id, handing it to you. you take the id into your hands and stare at it for a while. “huh?” 

then is hits you, you don’t even know this guy's name. your eyes glance over the id, from the photo to his name..back to his id. his warm dark brown hair looking soft, his doe eyes are soft and very, very pretty. a mole at the tip of his nose, and one very visible mole perfectly under his pouty lips. did you mention he has a perfect smile? 

you almost get sucked into the photo when you realise something. huh?

you unwillingly unglue your eyes from the id and place them onto the face that is currently in front of you. he has the same smile from the id on his face right now. “what does your id mean?” he runs a hand through his perfect locks, “you still don’t know my name?”

something in you clicked. “why are you also named jeon jungkook??” this time, he lets out an even bigger laugh. “i’m the jeon jungkook.” you feel slightly sick. “.....what.”

“who did you even think jeon jungkook was then?”

“i don’t know??? i told you i’m just pretending to like this jeon jungkook person…”

jungkook raises an eyebrow, “you’re not doing much background check before pretending to like them, huh?”

his eyes still fixed on you, now with a teasing tone:” actually you misunderstood in the first place, i never thought you even had a crush on me, until you came up to me and told me that you like this jeon jungkook guy. i was utterly confused, like i thought you were using some creative way to confess to me, get my attention or something.” 

“oh my gosh i did not!” you feel so much embarrassment for yourself, even second-hand embarrassment at this point. jungkook continued: “and then i thought maybe you liked one of my friends, but just got the name wrong. but every single time when i bumped into you, you always seemed to be looking at me first, right?” 

all the blood rushed from your body to your face, and you felt your cheeks flush up. “did not!!!” 

“sure did, doll.” 

“no! see! like it’s all a misunderstanding! you have mistaken me for liking you. it’s not that deep.” you realise you’re extremely loud, causing you to lower your voice to a more softer tone.

“yeah, yeah, whatever you say.” you huff in disagreement, then you realised that you’re not only here to get these words straight but to also admit that you do like him a tad bit….not deny it completely! 

“then who’s number did you give me?”

“mine.”

“okay, so you’ve been playing me” 

“hm?”

“you knew i must’ve gotten something muddled up, but you still text me every day? you’re still giving me snacks? you’re still flirting with me?”

“that’s me being polite,” he mumbled under his breath.

“okay so you do this with everyone.”

“i don’t normally take stuff from other people, or give my number or whatever?”

“then why me?”

“since you’re the one with the biggest crush on me, so i had to be quite courteous.” 

“no. shut up.”

you can’t get yourself to be convinced that you don’t like him, just like how you couldn’t convince yourself that he doesn’t think you had a fat schoolgirl crush on him.

you don’t know what jeon jungkook wants from you! 

after that conversation, it’s like he’s even more convinced that you are in love with him. every time you enter the lunch hall, he spots you instantly, raises an eyebrow gesturing for you to sit next to the empty seat next to him. (as if saying: “here’s your chance to sit next to me, babe.”) when you ran into him in the campus library, he would knit his brows and playfully ask something like “how did you know i was going to be here?”

as if you’re tracking his location or something!!

the next basketball game came very soon. the day of the basketball game you had received a text from him giving you the time of the game and what court it was going to be at bright and early. as if he was certain you were going to go, douche. 

well…that afternoon you showed up with a baseball cap, trying to hide in the crowd. there were way more people this time, how is that even possible? when you got to lay your eyes on him, he was on his phone in the corner, while his teammates were warming up. a little delusional thought popped up in your head. he’s probably sending you a text message…? a notification sound ruined your thought. you feel the corners of your mouth slowly raise as you pulled out your phone from the butt pocket of your jeans.

“Hey! It’s Duolingo.

Make your screen time count. Take a quick Japanese lesson.”

what. you feel a little irritated as you lock your screen and before aggressively shoving your phone back into your pocket, you raise your head to search for jungkook when you meet eyes with him. you didn’t even have to search for him, he was already eyeing you.  his eyes teasingly dart from you to your phone in your hand. dude. 

you were fantasizing about yourself receiving a “where are you” text so you can hit him with a simple and petty  “i’m not coming”!!!!

he went straight into warming up after that short exchanging looks with you, one shot and the crowd of girls starts cheering like there’s no tomorrow. try hard. attention seeker. show off. you think to yourself when you shoot him a dirty glance from the crowd. it’s like he catches that look instantly, jungkook hands the ball to his teammates, and goes back to sitting on the bench in silence. you smile to yourself.

the game finishes and you drag nayeon to sprint out of the court before the herd of people makes it extra difficult. this time, another notification.

jung fking kook : group dinner, u and ur friend wanna come?

you stop in your tracks and text back: nah, i dont even know your friends.

text sent. you and nayeon start walking back when footsteps of someone running up from behind distract you. a large hand grabs your arm and turns you around in a swift motion. 

there he stood, still slightly glowy after the intense game. his eyes looked extra soft and bright under the road light. “let’s go together?” 

how can you ever reject him?

you, nayeon and jungkook went to a hot pot eatery nearby, and you wondered the entire way there if would be so darn awkward when you saw his friends. but thank god, they were way too energetic, to the point they almost didn’t even see you three walk in. jungkook insisted on introducing you to his friends, making sure each and one of his friends greeted you. you leaned closer to him and muttered “how do you know my name?” he whispered back. “not everyone is like you y/n.”

that’s when you figured, maybe he did not tell his friends about the ridiculous things you’ve said and done, since all of them greeted you and nayeon with large smiles. that calmed you down a whole lot. except the blonde boy, park jimin. he seemed like he wanted to jokingly say something, but swallowed his words when jungkook gave him a good glance. 

after dinner, nayeon made some excuses and said she had to leave early while shooting you many knowing looks and childish eyebrow raises. you stand outside of the restaurant while the boys pay the check. this night has never felt so calm on your skin before. you wanted to say bye to jungkook before leaving. but the second the boys came out of the restaurant, the same warm hand placed itself on your arm. “i’ll walk you back.” 

okay. it’s only like 5 minutes but whatever.

there were more people than you expected on the road. usually, you will not pay any attention to the people passing by but maybe because you were walking with jungkook tonight, it seemed like every goddamn couple in the world was next to you two. and everyone recognised jeon jungkook. of course, they did.

he grabbed your hand gently and decided to walk into a dark alleyway. you’ve never realised how nice his hands felt wrapped around your own. in the darkness, you can hear his faint breathing next to you. “lulu used to hunt for mice here.” he broke the comfortable silence. 

you never knew he started addressing her as lulu too. 

“and she had a lover that lived in one of these houses, they used to hang out here,” you added.

“y/n, how do you even know that?”

“i told you i was feeding lulu way before you.” you comment, this is totally a competition now.

you hear him lightly laugh in the darkness. 

the 5-minute walk took at least double the time to get there, some streetlights outside your dorm are old and broken, causing a dim-lit atmosphere. you spot a couple on the side of the street making out. if you walked even closer, you could probably even hear the sickening sounds. jungkook looked extra calm as if he could not hear anything, he walked you to the door and spoke. “you’re here.”

you don’t know what to reply to that. 

“right. i’m home.”

and he turned and walked away.

???

“that’s it?”

“that’s fucking it?:”

nayeon just opened a bag of barbeque chips, getting ready to hear about everything that went down, preparing to be surprised. she sighed to herself. she didn’t even get to get comfortable on your bed!

“he didn’t say anything? you two didn’t even hug?”

you thought to yourself before answering, “we talked about lulu. and that's it.”

“oh my days.” nayeon shakes her head in disapproval “he introduced you to his friends, what is in that little head of his?!” 

“i genuinely don’t know.” you feel a twinge of sadness growing in your chest, “maybe we overanalyzed this.” 

if this is what it feels like to like somebody, you’d rather stay single for the rest of your life. 

you decided to have a good, relaxing shower to get your mind off things. when getting into your bed, you receive a text. 

jung fking kook: breakfast tmrw?

you did not feel like replying, leaving the message read. 

jung fking kook: or lunch? both?

you felt so aggravated, your fingers moving so fast to type your thoughts out without thinking about what you wanted to say.

y/n: you’re so bloody confusing, are you currently demonstrating to me how a guy acts when they know a girl likes them or are you showing me what a guy does when they actually like someone? because this is getting so damn tiring for me, jungkook.

no emojis. you’re letting him know this is bloody serious. 

the grey typing icon pops up from the bottom of the screen, then disappears. 

audio message.

you almost jump off your bed to grab your earphones. popping the earbuds into your ears, you hear the familiar voice. before the voice could even warm your heart up, it felt like a cold splash of water in your face instead.

“hey, look im so sorry, i just- i just don’t know how to tell you this.” 

rejection tastes great, doesn’t it!

another audio message followed up. you disconnected your earphones, you do not have time for this rejection anymore.

jung fking kook: listen to it.

y/n: i’m tired. goodnight.

after typing the “good night” message out, you felt your curiosity eating you up. you pop an earbud into your ear, and press play.

“you’re correct, this is exactly what i’m doing. what a guy does when they genuinely like somebody.” you gasp and before you could even reply, an incoming call from jungkook comes in. 

“hi.”

“hi.”

“did you open it?”

you didn’t know how to respond. you panicked. are you going to say yeah i heard you just say you like me or are you going to play dumb like no bro what did u say haha

“yeah.”

“i knew it.”

“okay jungkook.”

“i’m downstairs.”

“you’re what?!”

“yeah. come down.”

jeon jungkook is going to be the death of you. (end)

here is my masterlist if you want to enjoy some more of my writing!

and until next time, kae.

#mistaken!universe #mistaken!jungkook #jungkook imagines #jeon jungguk #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fuff #jungkook fic #jungkook scenarios #jungkook angst fluff #jungkook drabbles #bts fics #bts fluff #bts drabble #jungkook drabble #bts x y/n #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff imagines #bts scenarios #bts fanfic

[capslocked]

KINKVEMBER DAY: 6

[prompt: blowjob]

male reader x hyeju

12k words

“I mean, don’t you think,” Hyeju says, wagging a finger at you, “that when you suffer through a bad date, the world ought to owe you something?”

"Like what?" you ask.

"Better taste in women - maybe more orgasms; I dunno, a blowjob?" She shrugs. "The general idea is just that someone gets to cum."

You nearly choke on the air in front of you. "Jesus, Hyeju, warn a guy."

“What? I’m trying to commiserate with you,” Hyeju laughs. “Wouldn’t that be funny? Being able to kiss someone who actually, you know, might love you back, and at the same time. Imagine not hooking-up just to forget a shitty day. Sounds wild, right?"

"Utterly deranged."

"So wild."

-

The first time you hook up with your roommate, it’s because of genetics - though not in the weird, uncontrollable way your body gets rigid and sensitive to any pretty girl who wears nothing but a towel moving between her bedroom and the bathroom, or how her eyes might flick fast from your chest up to yours - or given that the absolute shape of her is a blessing from one god or another (benevolent, clearly). That's not why Hyeju and you find yourselves only a few months later grinding on each other after the clock ticked past midnight, making out on New Year's Eve.

No, it has to do with the fact that Hyeju's nearly failing the nine AM section of molecular genetics because she's spent every lecture doodling stars and planets and planets shaped like asscheeks and planet-ass constellations while everyone else writes notes or doom scrolls twitter or whatever and she is somehow simultaneously the only student who never slept with her face on the lab desk or missed an assigned reading and the only one who absolutely needs a tutor.

It's just cosmic odds that you'd be that one: her roommate, who shouldn't be talking so loudly in the library about sex (in a sort of non-sexy, Mendelian kind of way) or be thinking the kind of things you've started thinking when Hyeju wears one of her more sleepshirt-esque long sleeves, her voice getting lower as you rattle off, "fruit flies and thale cress, definitely, it's just an error of fate or chromosome splitting..." before trailing off into a question.

"This is the worst thing that has ever happened to me," she finally tells you. You listen to her sigh into the binding of her textbook, facedown. "I'm really going to bomb this exam."

You tap her hand twice with your highlighter across the desk. "Then you're pretty damn lucky, if you think about it."

She turns to you, smiles a bit. "Okay, point. The worst thing will be having to retake this stupid fucking class."

"Why didn't you ask for help or go to office hours if you knew you were... failing?"

"Maybe because doing anything more than the bare minimum to get through a class I don't care about is my definition of, failing," she mumbles. "Why didn't anyone tell me a single lab is worth half my grade? Or that the TA is this fucking unreliable? How is this the one thing, really, beyond the basics, that can't be taught by wikipedia, a wikihow article and a youtube video?"

You scoot your seat closer to her. "You really need to relax."

"Fucking tell me about it."

You turn it over in your mind a few times, capping the top of your highlighter.

"Want me to get you off?"

And it’s not like you really mean it, when you say it, which is the strangest thing: you wouldn't actually suggest it, normally, wouldn't mention it in passing and then leave yourself open to the follow up and cross examination; yet there it is, after three, four hours of cramming notes on heterochronicity and the sloshing of gametes - you actually did propose it.

Hyeju jerks up, surprised.

"Are you serious?" She looks around, nearly snorting. "In the library?"

The face you’re giving her makes her scoff.

“You’re absolutely nuts.”

You have character flaws; the inability to admit wrongdoing chief among them. Hell, maybe it's from your mother - or maybe all your brains are just scrambled by the fact that Hyeju's sitting there with her pen against her pretty lips, hair glossier than usual as she scans your face and makes your entire body feel like a reactor core in meltdown.

Maybe you can blame what comes next on that.

"I'm always serious. I'm asking a serious question," you whisper, closing the textbook and resting your elbows on top. You look around quickly, like you're sneaking something in instead of this perfectly reasonable exchange, the perfectly platonic - except maybe not so much - way for friends to help each other.

"And I'm wondering what you're asking." Her cheeks are definitely pinker, you think, or the way it fills out her face, from the bottom up, is just that easy to imagine.

“I’m saying you haven’t gotten laid in months.” Here, you realize, these blocks of mental logic that definitely weren’t there when you blurted it out start to coalesce into something solid as you go on.

And you hadn't been wrong when you thought no one had given Hyeju a helping hand in a long, long time: you've heard through the walls or the floorboards at odd hours of the morning that she spends far too long fingering herself to a mind-numbing, tear-worthy frustration that leaves her knuckle-deep but never, ever sated or satisfied.

"No one's around, you'll feel better. You said it yourself."

Not a work of your imagination here - her ears are fucking burning.

"Wait a minute." She pushes her chair back, away from you and your gleaming offer. It clatters on its back legs, and a librarian waves her finger in warning. You wave back, sheepishly, until she stops and Hyeju stands and moves away from the table to talk, hands crossed over her front.

She turns and asks in a hushed-down-voice, "how did you know - did you hear something last night?"

"You couldn't keep it down even if you wanted to, honestly."

Hyeju turns further and throws a glare at the library doors, because obviously her noisiness and their collective noisemanship, or whatever the hell the word is, is clearly the root of the whole goddamn problem.

"Look - if not, no big deal - but I'm just saying you'll probably get over it and at least think less about sex. Or at least the wrong kind of sex."

You expect her to turn, sigh, and ask if you've lost your mind. Expect her to gather her jacket from the back of her chair, take her books and stomp out the room. Or even burst out laughing at the insanity, before slapping your arm lightly, in playful retaliation - anything other than the serious look she gives you in return, tilting her head, pressing her lips.

She turns up at the ceiling for a moment, contemplating something. And it's cute. It's so very, very cute, how her mouth pouts as she considers the possibility, right up until she says, "okay, fine."

The moderate twist of surprise taking hold in your brow must be visible.

"Oh, don't tell me that was all talk. Get me thinking about the right kind of sex or whatever."

You laugh, which has the librarian staring at both of you - until the librarian stops staring and probably sees Hyeju sliding back into her chair, the full, pent-up weight of her concentration pointed your way, knees inching apart - you, and Hyeju waiting, your knee bumping into her inner thigh, leaning closer as the textbook hits the floor.

"Don't laugh."

"Not laughing, seriously. Not laughing," you stammer. “I just think you’re just full of surprises.”

She spreads her knees further and sits taller, looking right at you.

"So then, surprise me," and then presses her cheek to the crook of your elbow.

You slide your chair right into the space next to hers, nuzzling up into the space under her ear. “Keep studying, Hyeju, you’ve got shit to do.” And then you slide your hand beneath the waist of her sweats, knead the swell of her thigh until you find the seam where her leg meets her body, press your palm down on the place just next to her center, your thumb in the middle. All this perfect pressure.

"Fuck," Hyeju says under a shudder. She's breathing heavier when your hot, open-mouthed kisses start landing at her neck, and she probably tries to read her textbook for about forty-five seconds longer. But there's the clench of her jaw right as your middle finger begins tracing circles beneath the fabric of her panties, and her gaze is blurring until she can't tell the difference between an allele or your fucking name.

"Shh-shh," you quiet her, finger tapping harder, playing with the slick wetness beneath all those layers of thick cotton and pressing two fingers there until her knees part like they’re not interested in resisting at all. Your lips press a kiss to the shell of her ear and she tenses all at once, hand shooting up to cover her mouth.

She simply leans back, closes her eyes, and lets you take care of her.

“Okay, you’re right,” she says, shaky and uneven, “that really did take some of the edge off. Did we ever review - poly- uh, pol-polymers here?"

The sweatshirt sleeve falling off your shoulder is a hindrance to any actual reading; her shifting against the chair isn't helping either, but you manage to push down the thoughts of stripping her down completely and giving her your tongue as yet another distraction.

"What did the syllabus say? I don't know if we need to read too far on 'polymers'," you say, having going through an entire afternoon without considering this once, but as you curl your fingers and take an honest crack at cramming the remaining chapters into her head, the knowledge that no one else is getting her this wet - except for whoever she's got in her mind's eye at three AM - is enough to get you feeling a little dizzy.

-

It’s probably supposed to be weird, given that you’ve never gotten any of your other friends off spontaneously in the library, or there's the fact that you can't really avoid each other afterwards, how she shows up in a silk negligee when you're pouring coffee before sunrise to prep for another day and you have the opportunity to notice - yes, she has amazing taste in underwear, yes, you might not have really appreciated her chest and figure enough before - yes, fuck it. She catches you noticing that first time, after coming downstairs with nothing but one of her cropped t-shirts and her board shorts, and she smirks when she realizes you're still thinking about it that afternoon, when her foot grazes yours while you're both washing dishes, and she dries the plate in her hand with a slow swipe.

And it is weird, actually, to describe what’s going on between you in words. 

A few words, anyway, like a one-word label to describe what it was: friends or roommates-with-benefits, or - fuck buddies - god, it's even worse. Fuck buddies? Fuck friends? Something equally terrible and stupid that still makes sense, like something out of a shitty rom-com: it doesn't capture any of the rest of the myriad ways in which things can feel less or less friendly between two people.

So, friends was never, ever going to cut it. Roommates - although technically correct - is just this side of too clinical. And let's be clear: strangers don't wake up every morning together, walk to the same class, sit close together in the middle seats, secretly flick a strangers' skirt up in an empty lecture hall and get on their knees and work your mouth onto her pussy and watch the legs of the desks shake when her feet arch into the floor.

"The notes you've got are better than mine," is how Hyeju tries to put things, the next day and every time after that, standing in the doorframe, or at the foot of your bed and looking every bit the disheveled and hopeless mess you imagine she might spread out over the sheets of her own.

-

It gets complicated, which isn't really a surprise.

"You think your roommate is going to be home tonight?" is the question that comes up multiple times - from a revolving door of pretty names and faces. Hyeju has at least one opinion, if not more, on each of them.

"Tell Jinsoul I say hi," she says once, watching you get ready for a date, and you nearly bang your knee on the edge of the bathroom vanity. 

It's one of the more harmless comments she's offered.

Another, backhanded: "if you’re just looking for a blowjob everyday between lunch and our physics lab, let Hyunjin or Heejin or whatever-her-name-is know she's easily my favorite," Hyeju says on your way out one morning, still under her covers.

Or,

Hyeju's texted a simple "uh, Chuu? really??" when you mention, once, how much fun you've been having - and what kind, as you make a round of self-conscious and rambling phone calls the next day that land you with only one prospect for the night - but your roommate's also no longer being your roommate by the end of it, bouncing against your thighs in the bathtub and moaning something about please more and fuck or fucking make me cum; the details escape you a bit.

That's what friends are for, probably.

Still, in the same, bare-bones explanation, friends also aren't for falling asleep on you - or letting you hold her - or fucking you awake in the middle of the night. Friends aren't for pushing down your jeans when the early-morning dew settles on the back patio, or jerking you off in the seat beside yours with a sweatshirt over your lap when a group project is due later and you all should probably work on that and instead get yourselves off and leave the mess of what you're doing half-finished. Friends aren't, probably, for offering to watch you rub your palm up and down your cock the night before next semester's exams when you can barely sit in a single chair and you can't think about molecular biology or neurochemical transcriptions when your whole body aches to do the transcribing. (If you can catch that drift.)

The lists of who are and are not good enough for you goes on and on - the latter longer than the former.

So, there's Choerry, who according to Hyeju is 'straight up, a total slut'. Yeojin, who gets mistaken for your little sister enough times that Hyeju refuses to - in good faith - let you keep sleeping with her. Both Heejin and Gowon are apparently too pretty for you. "Kim-lip?" she asks, in the middle of peeling garlic, "is that one name or two?" And laughs into a bottle of beer, loud, while you're telling her to quit being nosey and watch her fingers with the damn knife.

"You have a problem."

"Why, because I asked a few simple questions? I think anyone would be a little curious with the -" she pauses to wave her fingers - "I'd be remiss to not be interested in the very drama that unfolds literally across the hall."

She waggles her eyebrows.

You look up at the ceiling. God save you, you think. "Hyeju."

("Seriously," Hyeju chimes in one evening, arms around you, and a mouthful of the dinner you'd cooked.

"You need better taste in girls. Don't waste time on anyone too dumb, or who drinks the milk straight from the carton, or doesn't wash her socks with the same load of laundry. Oh, and - no one who chews loudly. No one who can't tell you're going to cum. The worst is someone who doesn't know what you like, trust me on that. And remember the last rule: don't do anything with someone who eats at a really slow pace, it's incredibly depressing."

You rest your chin on her shoulder from the spot behind her. "Duly noted, oh Master of all Knowledge."

She sighs into your arm, but in the next moment, her voice gets a lot softer, her hips fidgeting slightly against you. "I just mean you're the kind of person people would want to sleep with again," she says, before turning to say your name and kiss you again and again as your bodies curl inward.

"I wonder what that means, Hyeju," you say.

"Fuck," Hyeju groans as you slide further into her, pushing her back into the sofa - hands on her shoulders, legs bent on her either side, "don't tease me like this.")

-

The first snowfall of the year is mild, a tiny dusting, nothing that sticks on the pavement in the alley or on the sidewalks - or the lintels - or in Hyeju's hair, but by evening, when the snow picks up and everything goes quiet, Hyeju has changed into flannels and wool socks in anticipation, curled up like a cat at one edge of the window ledge as the world begins to go white. It's enough that you even pull on a thicker sweatshirt, open up a book, and join her.

She turns toward you, quiet.

You've reached a point in the semester where this, the silence, doesn't unsettle you anymore. It's the space you fill up with time in-between, where you can see the contours of her body against the orange lamplight of the space heater, or watch her kick off the top half of the duvet at night as you fight over space in her bed and wonder about the bare skin peeking out from her shorts.

"Feeling bored?" She slides her foot a little closer to yours, almost imperceptibly. "Am I keeping you entertained enough?"

Her lips pull up at the corner. You chuckle.

"Oh, no."

She scoffs and puts her hands on her knees, pushes herself closer to the window sill and bumps her elbow into your shoulder. The bare skin of her neck and shoulders and face is getting a little redder as she cranes it forward. "Okay, if not, do you need someone to entertain you, maybe."

Your mouth twists, fighting a smile.

Hyeju is so close to you, you could kiss her really, really easily and not care how she'd feel about that. It's not a habit, not as often as it used to be, but every once and a while - she starts this game. Every once in a while, Hyeju just starts smiling like that, and leans into you like she's daring you to play along, hard round of chicken until it's clear what the two of you are doing with each other; the minutes pass by, one, then two, and then - maybe she pushes first, her leg on yours, or a kiss to your jaw or a palm on your back as she walks behind you - and then you'd turn and kiss her full on the mouth and pull at her clothes like nothing's holding you back.

She cocks a smile, and says, "why don't you go and call what's her name."

"Because."

You glance out at the cold, gray light outside. If you had a better understanding of any of the workings inside you, you could reach forward and tell her everything that's stopped you.

-

You're supposed to meet the girl-of-the-month at a New Year's party. Hyeju looks disgusted within the first ten seconds of the whole story.

"Heejin dumped you once, like, two months ago? For no reason."

"It wasn't a break-up. We talked about what we did wrong and we're doing better," you say, lifting one finger.

She glares, then, tilts her lips into this unamused purse that you can't take seriously at all when she starts walking back and forth across your living room, hands moving emphatically to the sides as she speaks, like she's in the process of unveiling a brilliant argument and is using both palms to guide your eyes toward the unquestionable logic. "God, you're the worst. You're just her easy fuck and you'll still answer her late night calls, really."

She leaves the rest unsaid - that she's just not that into you.

"I don't tell you which boys or girls you can call up," you try, putting on a boot. "If you'd like, I can. Name off the list, and make sure that the right name leaves my mouth this time."

Hyeju doesn't blush when you glance up, which is the surprising thing. No - her cheeks have grown a little more sullen, and she stares down at her socks in contemplation. You're in the middle of fastening up the lace and getting to your feet, waiting, wondering if Hyeju's going to continue this conversation, when Hyeju takes one small step forward.

And her hand goes out to touch your chin, thumb at your lip, fingers holding it in place - like you'll turn if she lets it go - the sharp shock of the sensation like a short circuit, before her knee comes between yours, and your body tingles, at the root and stem. "Hey," she says, eyes meeting yours. The edge of her nail flicking gently as she drags the curve of her thumb downward.

"Hyeju, please - I need to get going."

When you start walking toward your car, she calls out from the window. Something about how you better have the time of your life, fun for the two of you - it’s only fair.

(You feel, somewhere, a certain strange loss.)

"What, are you going to stay up and wait until I come back? Or am I interrupting your session for the night."

You can barely make it out, the smallest look passing over her face. "Maybe," she says, and then: "god, it's fucking cold."

-

New year's parties have this sort of quality of being simultaneously the most thrilling, exciting prospect on earth and the absolute worst fucking event in the history of the planet - depending on the venue, how egregious the racket is for a gin and tonic, the guests - oh, and the company.

Jinsoul and Choerry are both in attendance; in separate corners and in equal states of undress and intoxication, which seems fine by every present party, who are for the most part busy ogling one or the other in the full spirit of the New Year - as you would too, if the stars are aligned and Heejin hasn't already gone upstairs with half the guestlist, her arm wound with someone else's, as per her recent habit; if you haven't been tossed aside for any of the usual, less forgettable prospects and for something bigger, better and certainly much more enjoyable.

Which, if there were any way to track these things down with math, you'd already be reaching for your pen and notebook, as Hyeju would describe this sensation in a phrase she picked up from some podcast. Inevitable means necessary, or something.

"Good party," says Heejin, throwing back another drink.

"Yep. You said that," and you finish yours in one long draw, hissing through your teeth.

Heejin is a goddamn delight, of course, in all the simplest of ways. When she looks up at you - mouth pink, hair framing her face - she is so clearly and completely aware of what she is, and exactly what the world has in store for her, what it has set aside.

"Do you want to know what happened at the other New Year’s party we went to last year?"

"I - yeah. Hit me. Tell me all about (another date you were on) Heejin, that’s exactly what I’d love, let’s hear it."

She throws her head back and laughs, before starting into an overlong recount of her latest, greatest conquest, you on the outside. This is the thing - this is how a pretty face, with just a hint of a flirt, will make you feel for a beautiful, attractive, vivacious - absolutely shameless, raving sex-crazed lunatic of sorts who, apparently, loves to run around town and make a bunch of your closest friends fall in love and heartbroke-er, with every passing notion of her beauty, her charm - just the tilt of her chin, and some poor fucker is lost, absolutely lost.

 Even she knows it's a bad habit of hers. 

But who doesn't have a weakness? You've got plenty of your own - plenty, Heejin can admit - everyone does, in a way, and so Heejin, the other sloppy drunks milling about the party, and Choerry and Jinsoul all agree - someone like her just happens to have the best kind of weakness - so, so many of them, in fact:

"Can you believe how easily a few words get Jinsoul riled up? Or how it only takes a couple drinks for Choerry to pull up the hem of her skirt, not knowing the effect that'll have?"

And as for the last, and arguably worst kind -

"Hyeju, huh? What a great start to the New Year," is her final word. Heejin reaches across and downs your drink. Her expression turns just shy of grave, a pensive look. "Not your smartest idea, the living-together situation. Who in their right mind would put themselves in such a mess?"

"Thanks for the great advice." You wave her off, irritated.

There's another laugh before Heejin leans her face onto the table.

"Though maybe she's onto something, now that I think of it. Who needs anyone for the New Year?" and it's almost convincing the way her mouth, lined up with the rim of the glass, smirks when she drinks. "Mm. All a matter of taste."

-

The snow is halfway up your calves when you realize you need to find a cab at 11:30 PM on New Year's Eve. (Which, categorically, is the worst time to need to find a cab on New Year’s Eve.)

Or just:

11:36 PM and the nearest bus stop is too far away.

11:41 and the temperature feels like its dropped by fifteen degrees, like you should start wondering what hypothermia symptoms look like and what signs to look out for in yourself, your future wife and your children. You try not to think about why, but you get your phone out and immediately call Hyeju, so you're not sure what you think you're denying.

"No party?" she asks. Her voice is distant and sleep-ridden, but Hyeju's quick to pick up, like always.

"It sucked, I'm trying to find a way home early. Happy New Year."

"Happy New Year." There's a long pause, filled in by the squeak of snow beneath your boots. "Get a kiss?"

"Uh, not yet. In the market, I guess."

Hyeju's low hum isn't reassuring, either. "Well, you're kind of missing your window. Bad time to start looking."

"Says you, and here you are - still up for someone to spend the night with. Look at you," you respond, all this snark in your voice that she clearly hears. There's a long sigh.

"Actually," and Hyeju, much to the confusion of you and possibly the whole world, doesn't respond, and for a few seconds, the line goes completely silent, leaving you hanging.

She breathes once and comes out of her sleep with a yawn.

"I actually," she begins. There's a lot less preamble this time - this tone - and when she speaks again it comes through not nearly as sleepy, "was sorta wondering. Are you on your way home?"

"If I don't freeze to death, yeah."

"Yeah - no, yeah," and that's it. That's the sum total of what makes any difference between where you were a moment ago, and where you are right now, head spinning, fingers buzzing. Hyeju waits and there's the wind on the line, snow settling on your hat and in the corners of your face.

"I - sorry. I probably woke you up. Are you expecting someone else," you say, very small. Your foot drags behind the other. The cars whizz by you faster, passing.

"Hm. You're the only one, I guess," and after that - just static and the muffled sounds of her footsteps on creaky floorboards - or the tick of her ceiling fan? You can't make heads or tails of the rest of the background noise. All those words she said.

You bite your tongue to stop whatever curse words start pouring out from the jumble and cross streets, or the pedestrian underpass; snow gets stuck in your lashes and burns, but your chest is like a molten furnace. You consider telling her right there on the line, everything you're feeling - so hot, it feels like fire, Hyeju, I'm not used to getting heated and desperate and impatient - that even if you're not here now - just imagining your face - the sound of your breathing, it feels like I'm on the cusp.

"Yeah. Sure - good - okay, Hyeju."

"I guess, see you soon?"

"In a bit."

(It takes 33 minutes, trudging through cold and wet. It's all very dramatic, you think, and there's no one there to even watch you suffer for it, or - though you try not to think about that particular line - really, no one at all.)

-

You hear the way your key grinds in the lock - it's been like this, jammed since summer, when you pushed the front door in late at night a little too hard and something came undone and made a sound like a small stone tumbling down the world's deepest well. The hinge squeaks, and there's ice on the stoop, on the doormat, on every nook and corner you can see, all the way up your neck.

And your face, too. You shake off your hat, undo the buttons on your jacket, and pull off your boots before hanging them and all the layers to dry.

You can make out the outline of her profile at the edge of the door frame, right in the kitchen - barefoot, hip pressed against the island, pajamas - the dim lights illuminating the shadow of her head, hair over her face -

- but you don't pause. The next layer. There's nothing left to say. You're too cold for excuses, too smart to use the same ones you'd been taught, like: this is a normal, acceptable circumstance; everything, anything, will be perfectly normal if the two of us act as though that's the case; pretend we're both acting within the norms of reason, within our senses and logical thinking and I won't make myself go out in the cold a second more - won't stand for more than five minutes with your eyes looking like they're waiting.

So you move instead toward the kitchen, where the heating is better and she's already pouring coffee. There's a heat radiating out of the oven, and it smells sweet in there, like cinnamon and warm butter, and you wish you weren't still shaking, blood barely thawed, but there it is - her face, watching you - eyes gleaming as you wrap your hands around a mug, steam rising up - a shiver running up your arms; her knees skirting yours when she takes one step back and there's the cabinet door shut, then open again, and then a palm on your back.

Hyeju presses a cup of the fresh coffee, now warm enough to drink, to your chest, and says, softly. "What the fuck happened out there?"

She starts reaching out to wipe the frost and slush from your face. You let her hand hold you still, eyes wide.

"Oh you know," and her palm stays, even though it's obviously - suddenly - gotten warmer, and wetter too, and the longer she stands there and lets her fingers warm the pale bones of your cheeks, her wrist, the base of your forehead and ears, the more expectant the look on her face grows. "The usual."

Her eyes go as narrow as they ever can. For just a moment. "You're gonna die a slow, pathetic death someday, just for the record."

"Don't forget how this starts," you try, and feel your neck go warm, throat and breath tight. And not even when her shoulders shift, her mouth going smug - just looking at you.

“I mean, don’t you think,” Hyeju says, wagging a finger at you, “that when you suffer through a bad date, the world ought to owe you something?”

"Like what?" you ask.

"Better taste in women - maybe more orgasms; I dunno, a blowjob?" She shrugs. "The general idea is just that someone gets to cum."

You nearly choke on the air in front of you. "Jesus, Hyeju, warn a guy."

“What? I’m trying to commiserate with you,” Hyeju laughs. “Wouldn’t that be funny? Being able to kiss someone you actually, you know, might love you back, and at the same time. Imagine not hooking-up just to forget a shitty day. Sounds wild, right?"

"Utterly deranged."

"So wild."

When Hyeju sighs and gives a long, nonchalant hum, leaning her body closer, pressing up until her waist hits the cabinet top and you're pressed together chest-to-chest, she looks at you and her hips settle, the heel of her foot reaching around your calf.

There's that tingle. Again and again. You're not even trying to not think about what it might mean.

But then, you start, silently and unconsciously, trying to answer the question: why don't you, maybe. Why don't you, actually - Hyeju kisses you, pulls on the loop of your jeans and lets your lips brush the corners of hers and pulls away, suddenly, mumbling and head-turning. And just as abruptly, your nose buries in the space between her neck and her shoulder, where it's all warm. And when she puts her palms on your hips and squeezes and twists her knuckles into the fabric there, it seems she wants your hands up her shirt and under the small of her back.

And her hands - they're fidgety tonight, fingers curled up to keep their nails and the chill away, moving lower - one on your ass, while the other comes forward and begins rubbing circles, a handful of times - enough so you're letting a deep, low breath escape into the space just above her collar, your knee working its way between hers.

"That," Hyeju breathes, lips at your ear, hand reaching down to trace the hard curve of your cock pressing in the spot right between you, and there's that small rush again, familiar now, like you've caught a rhythm and she wants to feel it in its fullness: "is how you can make it up to me. For making me stay up. Worrying about you, god knows why. Waiting."

You're still half-frozen in a way, slowly thawing. "Hyeju, I've been trudging through the consequences of my actions this entire night. What am I about to suffer through now?"

"It's no consequence, honestly."

You squint.

"Just an idea, but," she breathes again; your bodies getting closer, and looking up at you, she grins and reaches down to touch the very root of you, her fingers drumming. You make a sound, and at that she says, her voice coming out thick, low:

"Want me to get you off?"

She squeezes again for good measure, just to be clear. Just a slight curl of fingers that's enough to send a flash of heat and the transient thought: why, why, why is she always wearing those fucking shorts, even in the winter?

Your blood thrums through the pulse at the end of your cock. You shake.

"Alright," is the response you let out.

And at that, Hyeju takes your wrist and leads you upstairs.

"There's that look. Don't worry. We'll find a way," is all she says as your feet walk forward, up step-by-step and higher and further up to her room. "After all, isn't that what we've always done?"

"It's usually whatever will make me stop talking."

Hyeju puts her chin on your shoulder. Her eyes follow the lines and shapes in the patterns of wallpaper as you turn onto her side of the apartment, and even through the wall and behind the doorway, her arm still around you, she pulls at your chin until your faces turn and you both can share each other's heat.

"Who, you and your awful habit of talking out-loud in your head while you work through equations?" and she brings her lips to yours, close and warm.

"Hey. Fuck you," and your voice breaks into an odd, low laughter when she kisses you harder.

"Yeah, I know," she whispers as her hand dives past the band of your boxers, palm sliding easily until she's gripping you fully and letting her fingers rub. She holds you there, in her room, her arm looped through yours, another arm resting at your belly.

And she stops there. She stays like that: holding your gaze.

"Look, Hyeju," you say, unable to not, though this can hardly count for anything; this, what you're about to admit, is nothing new. You swallow. "The thing is - you shouldn't."

"Don't want me to touch you?" she says, finger to your lips.

"Well, that's different. Maybe. Is there - maybe it's not the best thing to ask you right now."

Hyeju considers for a brief moment and tuts under her breath. "Can you at least do me the decency of waiting until I'm done wringing you dry before you say shit like that."

And she moves then, toward the bed.

So:

No. Yes. Maybe. Who knows, you tell yourself. Maybe, but only because you'll do anything if it makes you feel less sick, like a creature standing over its own skeleton - an abandoned shell; a relic, something to be feared and disgusted, as you let her go between your thighs, kneel beside the bed.

"I mean - since when - have you felt," is just as far as you're allowed to go before Hyeju presses her nose into you and pulls you out of the thin, cold fabric - palm, thumb, all those slender fingers swiping over your head - and now there's just the smell of her room and the shock, the buzz that runs down your spine and settles somewhere, somewhere inside the small and desperate movement of your hips and the tension building just below.

And god, fuck, Hyeju’s lips.

These soft, wet, pouty fucking things that could suck you straight off if you were feeling any less stupid or inexperienced or sentimental - if she wasn't solely intent on teasing it out of you first; a slow drag of the tongue up the underside; the tip of it poking, tracing the rim, like she's figured you out, just where to lead you. She's ready to smoke you out - always - until you're not taking in a breath every ten seconds but starting to close your eyes to the overwhelming, needling pleasure, too sharp, the way she knows you like best.

"Now you're finally - mm - starting to sound hot," and that smirk comes back to the corner of her mouth, teasing the sensitive belly of your cock and tracing her tongue everywhere. "With the voice and -"

You're losing track, her thumb and fingers circling the whole length of you - just, one after the other - mouth a hair-breadth away, her breath hovering like a promise.

"- that face."

"Don't, fucking tease me-"

The sound of your cock going in is like nothing else.

Wet and filthy in all the right ways.

Just the suction in her throat has your eyes nearly roll back into your head - Hyeju's gaze calmly watching the terrible sort of helplessness that washes over you like this: her lips wrapped around, bobbing - her hair falling into the wet mess of her mouth and sticking there. Hyeju likes being a little sloppy, likes feeling that spark run up the length of her tongue when she slides. It's the wet and the heat that gives everything away.

"I don't have much of a choice -" her jaw and chin is smudged when she pulls back off of your cock, mouth glossy and glistening, "and honestly, wouldn't it be a better use of our time, or my talents if I actually do that thing?"

“Which is?”

She looks up for a bit and sighs, the flush blooming pink to the tip of her ears and into the rounds of her cheeks and all across her neck. "Since, as far as I can see, what you really like - is, oh I'm just spit-balling here," and she stops just to bite her tongue and look into your eyes, "it's letting the girls take care of you? Isn't that right?"

You want to tell her, no, not always, that it's not as though you enjoy giving control completely - that that would be completely and unarguably, the opposite of true -

That most of the time you love it when the person you're with is a little bossy, a little crazy for you. You know some guys really get off on a strong woman and maybe, maybe if a girl's pretty and dressed up, and - sure - a little wet, but that's hardly -

“You know I’m right,” she says, a flicker of mischief skittering across her features. “These walls are paper thin.”

You want to tell her, perhaps remind her, that she likes someone in charge just as much as you do - to be taken care of, told what to do - to have a hand curled up around her throat and the other at her tits while a guy fucks her the right way and takes the reigns when she needs. So who are you, when it comes to knowing her better? And who, really, are you fooling?

But before you can get any words in: Hyeju dips, lips parting where the head of your cock throbs, and then disappears; and the hot wet warmth, enveloping all around your shaft and back; the curve of her throat contracting.

You moan - a lot, and louder this time - into the whole feeling. The way her fingers work the distance from the base, twisting and twisting and twisting into the pout of her lips; or how the sound is like nothing - a whimpering, messy sound - almost a whine and definitely not a slurp as your cock sinks further and further, until it's all one big, heavy throb.

And it's like Hyeju can read your thoughts, the visual you have of her lips screwed tight around your shaft - cum leaking from the corners, and her eyes scrunched up tight, as she looks up to watch your face unravel - this perfect image of her taking you, all of you, swallowing each drop as your hips start rutting up into her and - and - and.

Or else she gets impatient, because then Hyeju gives one long pull off the tip of your cock - saliva mixed in the precum there, and that shiny string of fluid hanging, caught in the middle between your bodies - a disgusting and irresistible sight. Her jaw slack, lips swollen and full, and her mouth gone wide open, wanting.

"Fuck - that's good. Don't stop," you start to whimper, desperate, at the sight, the smell. Her hot breath coming quick over the red wanting wetness left behind - then touched by the cold air - fuck -

She slaps your cock to the corner of her lips as she speaks.

"Can you believe what's going on down here?"

"God, can you -"

"And to think most guys wanna jump straight in. That or fuck a load out between my tits."

"Hyeju, shit, come on -"

She kisses the soft tip, right where it’s most sensitive, rolls it along her lip. Then, back down the length of your shaft where she's generous with her mouth inch after inch - lapping, licking, laving - and Hyeju begins working her way down and downward, nestling in at the edge of the bed and between your thighs.

Your eyes blow up the first time she dips low enough to put your balls in her mouth. 

“Mmhm,” she hums.

It’s killing you and she knows it; it’s killing you and she can feel the pre-cum leaking from your slit - the thumb she has moored there, keeping everything right where she wants it, running circles up the length with such little intention - she could bring you to the end just like this. 

"Am I supposed to believe it?” she asks out from beneath the shadow of your cock, looking up at you with her eyes all wide and brilliant - pupils dark as sin. “That not a single one of those girls ever did you proper?"

You curse under your breath. Hyeju seems amused, at least, like she can't help but love doing that to you, which is almost worse and honestly the sexiest thing a girl can be. You groan - wanton, raw and desperate and feeling exactly what she wants you to feel when her nails drag along the dip of your hip bones.

"Did they not leave you fucked-up the right way?"

Her wrist flicks out these twists and turns, making your spine bend to her control. Like even when you're sure to be bundling her hair in your fingers and fucking the whole length of your cock down her throat, all of this is the worst kind of power-trip for her - not the other way around.

Her tongue runs through the tangle of your balls, slowly, lasciviously, as though the plan is to memorize and map every detail. 

And the worst part is, how much it's making you desperate for the warmth of her mouth - where she'll run her tongue up and down and over and around and inside - before sucking you off nice and slow.

"Or maybe," she laughs; another flick to the top and then suddenly her hand goes faster and the fist pumping the rest of you tightens. "They left you so needy you're resorting to having the bestie suck you off so that you won't be desperate the next time you date. Oh my god-" 

Hyeju breaks into this fit of laughter, and you're nearly cross-eyed at the feeling of your entire existence - not just your cock - so wholly held within her mercy, and her pity, and you're breathing so shallow now you'd think this is the real reason people have died and will die - this exact moment where you're choking and stuttering at the edges, so very close to cumming and going absolutely bonkers with how good Hyeju is with her hands, her tongue, her mouth - everything - how much she's wrecking you, and your jaw drops, wide open, her name dripping like molasses off your lower lip.

"Are you going to cum?" she asks, curiously. All as if she can't see you nodding, collapsing under pressure, and then and there: "should we make it official?"

Her nose tickles the seam of your balls. And your toes begin to curl and uncurl - all this anticipatory, coiling pleasure burning from her throat, shooting from the pit of your stomach; the tightening spiral, twinging and stretching every nerve - as her lips enclose around the end of your cock, softly.

And oh, just excruciatingly slowly.

You watch the irresistible shape of her mouth travel down until her throat feels so incredibly, beautifully, and unbelievably tight, and then, just like that - Hyeju starts fucking herself onto you; pushing forward and down the full, rigid length of you, hard and fast - each time hitting deeper inside her - all that sticky, messy, wet squelching.

"Unh-unh, yeah. Unh. Mm-!" you say, or moan, or some animal version of that, maybe, it’s incoherent.

But regardless:

It's messy and your hands scramble for purchase in the sheets of her bed when you feel that snap, the tightening of a trigger; when your balls roll up and it builds, and builds, and it comes faster - harder and -

"Hyeju," you pant, and it sounds so, so filthy. "I'm gonna cum, if you - gonna cum-"

Hyeju pulls you free from her lips, quite possibly at the most final of final moments, to rub the base up and down, just right, between her fingers. Your cock is resting right on her cheek when it all happens. When she squeezes her fingers around your balls just enough to hear you wheeze and make a sound no sane man should have the right to. And fuck, you're cumming all over her face - or just one side of it - which is already just -

Okay, fuck.

She makes a startled sound and her fist closes tightly around your shaft when you pump another fresh load of white up onto her eyebrow.

"I'm, ah-shit," your mouth moves faster than the blood in your veins - and now the shame - oh god, the humiliation, it's pulsing right behind you. "Hyeju," you apologize.

Only, Hyeju has no interest in any of it. She doesn't seem offended or disappointed in proportion to how you're ruining her pretty face: "no, just do it, cum wherever you fucking like."

Which isn't what you're expecting at all, because Hyeju makes no effort to close her lips, let alone avoid any of it; nor is she making a fuss about the sticky mess in her hair, her mouth, nor as another stream of cum throbs from your cock, all tangled up in the long dark eyelashes that sweep down across her cheek.

It’s fucking filthy: you're cumming all over her and she's just kneeling there, telling you, "good boy."

See, she pushes through it, languidly - all those filthy sounds, and those watery little tears gathering at the edge of her eye and all of that, mixing up together until you're rolling your head back with your orgasm, shuddering, feeling weak - drained dry -

Except,

Hyeju's pushing a finger to your chest, kneeling up tall from the side of the bed. She turns her body toward the center of the bed and wipes a bit of the cum on her knuckles into the sheets. Here you feel like you've done something terrible or at least regrettable, like that last round at the bar when you have a test the next morning; a dick move, all of the sort that requires apology.

"You gotta give me a minute, if you're thinking about hopping on."

"Hmm. Sounds like a lot to ask."

"Wait," you grab her arm. Hyeju grins and there's nothing stopping the shake of your knees now, that weakness between your thighs: "let me get you a drink."

"Or."

"Or?"

Her tongue peeks out, running along her upper lip. Her eyes drop again, hands dipping below, beneath the hem of her shorts and oh. She slips a hand past her bra. The whole outline of it. And you -

"Mm, I could show you what that actually means." She lowers her chest, her breasts, and a lot of skin to the mattress while keeping your cock firmly in her hands. "That look tells me you wanna stick around a bit. Stay up past New Year’s, you know?"

You're almost unable to parse her words, there is so much to look at: the jutting curve of her chest, cleavage pressing into the mattress as her body settles between your knees. A soft chuckle; a sigh: "you are seriously the best lay, no-one else can get hard the minute after they just fucking exploded all over me-"

"Fuck, watch it," you hiss, because there's oversensitivity - and then there's Hyeju's mouth on the line of your cock, polishing you clean.

And it’s not that she isn’t trying to prove a point. Or that she's not trying to tease - that's an inherent quality of her character: a naturally dominant position with a high appetite for your lust. That much, Hyeju gets from you, whether you've got your head down between her thighs or the other way, too, so that her neck is arched around and her ass pushed up high in the air, legs open, and if she had any idea you would spend the next twenty minutes or more just going down on her, licking into her creaming cunt while two fingers work over her aching clit, then really, Hyeju would only encourage it - maybe get on top, force you to gag - and so you don't know where it comes from - how and why you want nothing more than to drive your fingers inside her and work her until she's a wet, squelching mess, not when this was always Hyeju's role of being the aggressor; and yes, sure, even the aggressed.

Surely not because you came so hard, still somewhat shivering with the remnants of a rather abrupt, painful, sudden and all-consuming orgasm.

"We're not doing anything else," she says, lips pulled up into a smirk right at the crown of your cockhead. But before you can respond she pushes a hot open kiss, and goes lower. She presses the flat of her tongue to the seam, just below the head. Licks a line right up to the tip and finishes with a tender flick that sends you fisting the bedspread in your fingers and leaning back as your mind begins to disintegrate -

"I'm not going to ride you yet, or going to get my hips in your hands so you can fuck my pussy real hard until I cry and pass out. Nothing of that sort is gonna happen." She licks one long drag of her tongue. Then, the other way. "I want to make this very clear: this isn't some huge favor - and if you want it - want it so bad, you can stay there and I'm going to do everything for you. We will get there - together," and with her voice shaking as she brings the wet, glistening skin of your cock just inside her mouth, she looks up. "We'll get each other off, just like this," and it's the deep, dark, throated moan that makes your thighs and all the nerves in between stiffen and buck when she swallows you again.

Hyeju's hands tug, pull her whole body closer still as it slowly bends, curves - her ass raised, her stomach lying on the bed. Her mouth takes you another few inches, until the tip of her nose is barely visible, but when she pauses to lick the cum still left over - the cum that's starting to leak out again - to breathe through it, then squeeze her palm and bob her mouth down, take another inch, until the sides are stuffed and emptying out again, that's when she finally has something to say: "got anything left? I'm a little starved."

"I. Christ, yes-" you whine, which doesn't help your case at all: the image, the image of you lying flat - back with Hyeju's head tucked between your knees, her hand pulling out your cock.

Sloppy, slimy-wet.

She presses an innocent, not-at-all-innocent kiss right to your tip, puckering - 

"You know what I did learn in that genetics class?" she muses, tongue flicking over her lips. Hyeju's about ready for a second helping - you're losing it. "When I first saw that DNA diagram - the double helix and all those little base pairs, and everything - it made me think of your cock. Your cock and me. Specifically our DNA. Did you know-"

She presses her palm over the head and rolls it - teases and strokes her palm - her knuckles - her fist - the whole nine. "When I hold your big fucking cock, mm, and just get it right - up in here, rubbing all along my walls - so deep, it gets me in my fucking ribs, makes me choke like I never been choked before, ah-mm," and it's this thought sliding toward the front of your mind, this perfect picture: Hyeju, getting fucked hard and open and stuffed full and stuffed good and stupid; you’ve got more than a few inches on her, can make her feel small and delicate; you know how to do her right.

But here you have Hyeju stroking the shaft - holding her hand tightly up near the head, rolling and twisting and sliding down and pushing her whole body right into the side of your legs: the soft, solid length, warm flesh and curves everywhere pressing into you.

You sit back, and just watch Hyeju with her eyes cool and composed, like half of her fucking face isn't streaked with your cum, mouth wrapped and looking fucking satisfied to be a total, gorgeous mess. She makes a dramatic display of kissing the tip again, just before telling you words you probably dreamt up at some point - either sleep deprived, or, during three AM jackoff, fantasizing. "Sometimes, just from riding your cock, I can't sit up straight."

"Fuck," and you feel your whole body run rigid, because apparently that's something you’ve been aching to hear.

You're covering her mouth again. White streaking onto her lips - where she's catching it in the well beneath her tongue and letting it spill out of the corner of her mouth. Into the crook of your thumb, which catches a drip here and there and rubs it down the length - down the curve - and pushes it back between Hyeju's pert little pout.

"Doesn't count, mister, just more pre-cum," she says, all with the audacity of a wink and smile; her words are a little garbled around the head of your cock between her teeth. And when you nod and realize just how painfully your jaw hurts, your throat becomes tight and raw, a knot pulling the underside from the center. Hyeju slides her lips lower, lower down, to the hilt and stays there, just like that - one hand holding down the flat of your belly to keep your hips still, her chin hanging - bobbing-as she feels every pulse, every twitching shift. You curl one hand around the side of her face, over the sharp edge of her jaw; rub a thumb into the delicate skin of her throat.

She shifts. You start to tell her what you like: how hot the rush comes when a girl puts her tongue against the slit at the very tip, and licks at the precum in nice, quick circles, soft and fluttering. And how her fingers shouldn't hesitate either, Hyeju's not even struggling to give it to you - god - just giving and -

She jerks her head up, swallowing down her next breath like it's one of her last. "I'm serious, if you're going to fuck a hole, start with my mouth - we can move onto everything else after."

"You're ridiculous -"

She meets her lips to your head, kissing once. Again. Kissing every inch, letting her mouth wrap around and then just - staying, just - staying like that and humming, with you, enjoying the fullness, the smell of you, the taste, the shape, just the weight and size and you.

There is spit fucking everywhere.

And if it's not clear what you're supposed to be doing - her fingers weave through yours, squeezing hard at the wrist and you can imagine: pulling her forward by her hair and holding her down while she chokes on your cock. "Fuck, Hyeju," you say, and your voice comes out way shakier than you'd like, "when, how did it get like this, huh? You always - always did, shit, always want your mouth filled."

"Never figured you to be someone who'd get turned on watching their friend sucking their cock like this."

"Doesn't everybody love the sight of their cock in a pretty girl's mouth?

"You were really convinced they weren't lining up behind you? Or anyone in the queue who can't keep their eyes off of this thing. Tell me, and try not to lie, try not to bullshit this one out: how many girls have you come home and fucked and creamed their brains out - then asked for the sloppiest, most -"

"Honestly."

"- Filthiest, nasty, ball-busting, gut-wrenching blowjob ever to make them think - to make them really start wondering what the hell it was you did - like it's gotta be something that leaves them so ruined, they can't ever not compare - can't ever not compare this moment, right here. Ever. When you give them the hardest fucking of their life, compared to any other guy - can't not, because no-one, literally no-one's cock can fuck like you do-"

"Fuck-"

"Any harder. Come on, seriously, tell me it isn't true. Come on."

Her voice - her fucking words, the tone she uses and how her words roll: honey-warm and soaking with sweet, thick degradation - she talks like sex, and that's exactly what gets you harder, like it’s something else; like it’s nothing, like it’s less, so much worse - you feel this guilty-dirty heat pool at your tailbone and push down the hard press of you throbbing all the way to her nose. And Hyeju smiles as much as she's capable around the fat, round stretch, humming around the warm taste of you, before opening wide and sinking her throat on it.

There's nothing like it.

You've got two fists in her hair; she's so tight and wet around every god-damn inch. Her cheeks flush - hot to the touch; her tongue laving in slow, long drags, slicking your shaft nice and warm until you're balls-deep and pushing her further: a small shift to the hips, a push here, a harder, faster pull, and Hyeju's feet behind her go curling like an angry cat, wanting the tug.

A long, satisfied breath slips from the hollows of her throat.

There are tears threatening, thickening her lashes, and though she doesn't choke - you're just afraid. Every sound that she pulls out, her eyes blinking up to you as if it's only natural to love getting used by her friend's cock, like the very premise of it - swallowing down the very shape of you, dragged over her tongue and brushing cum into the back of her throat - is something she can’t go without.

But this is nothing compared to the noises from where her lips are pressed tight around you, where you're hearing and even feeling:

That gluck, gluck - where her chest spasms just the slightest when her nose gets nuzzled right into your belly and you remember how much she likes to hear you talk dirty, how fucking wet it gets her. The heavy, deep breaths, gasps; the strangled moans when your hips just buck - the heat and the thrill, and this is better than every other time because there's just something in this moment -

"I'm not gonna come again, not like this. Not in your mouth. You can’t-"

But Hyeju refuses to hear a word; just pumps your shaft faster, feeling it's familiar hardness grow and throb and ache and retch, all her effort paying off: you're slick with precum and spit, hard and straining, the whole shaft begging for release - all because of her. And Hyeju won't stop, she pushes her cheek onto your thigh and then taps a hand there to pull your hips. The motion drives your cock further still inside her. Until it’s bathed in her spit, your cum, all this mess.

Until it's reaching, choking her, and the muffled sounds she's making are filthy and wet and so incredulously hot.

But god. Hyeju has something of a temper and a habit, too: with those big beautiful eyes and the perfect plump of her pouting lips, her tits swelling up around, when your grip slips on her shoulder, and her mouth goes tighter - how the pleasure begins to make you unbearably cruel and you push her away from you, only for a second -

She doesn't wait or seem to care; Hyeju follows the cock with her whole head and whimpers so hotly in her throat when it plops right back on her tongue. "That's more - more like - fuck, oh, there we go," her nose and fingers prodding.

You groan through a high, strangled whimper, a helpless shiver that turns into an uncontrollable roll of the hips - you can't believe it: she's already so thoroughly debauched and defaced; just fucking painted with it. Your cum dripping off her chin and rolling down her neck.

"Fuck - gonna make me - ah, Jesus -"

When Hyeju seems to have reached her fill, the feeling, you're cumming - pumping the length of your shaft. And the moment she feels you twitch and throb and that first hot spill lands in the bend of her mouth, it's as if she understands and holds herself tight - her legs going stock-still while your eyes blow up behind her, your cock spewing another and then another thick, milky load into her mouth, over her tongue: all along the topography of her throat - sticky cum landing in every ridge and valley -

Hyeju catches as much as she can. What little she can. You cum and pump and gush so much that when you're finally finished - done - every last drop spent and given - your cock throbs soft between her fingers; her chin is a complete and utter mess and her chest heaves with the sound of her catching her own breath. Hyeju groans softly and just swishes the load around in her mouth for a bit as if wanting to remember its feel and weight before lifting her eyes to look into yours. You can just barely see the color.

"Jesus, Hyeju-"

The entire bit of it, slick and shining-wet. With a small moan, a sound from the back of her throat: one swallow and the cum is gone, disappeared, vanished. She smiles like she didn't just ruin your entire goddamn life and, with her body limp and exhausted beside you - her gentle hand rubbing a flat stroke over your thigh before yours slips up to meet her chin.

"You," you curse and roll your eyes, catching the mess at the edge of her jaw, the very little left in the corners of her lips. You feed the cum over her bottom lip - her chin, her throat - watching your friend: Hyeju's throat, bobbing. "Really didn't have to," you start, but you realize just how useless a point it is to make.

She's smiling and biting and showing you what's left between the tips of her canines. "Do you always do this to the people who suck you off?"

"That's an awful habit. A pretty girl's lips aren't meant to get that messy," you reply.

"Oh." She frowns. "Well, I do a lot of things I shouldn't."

"God, seriously," and you think there's no greater hell, no sweeter pain than whatever's lingering in these little aftershocks - this fizzling and dying sort of pain, where the body is buzzed with all you're aching for. It's impossible to stop this train of thoughts, is the fucking feeling of her-

But just then, Hyeju rises to her knees, a new spark in her eyes, as she grabs ahold of your wrist and tugs you off the sheets, a few inches closer.

"And you," she purrs as she drags the palm of your hand across her neck and collarbone, collecting what remains and making the perfect image, "well - you are going to help clean me up, like you said before." She sits tall; the arch of her spine is pronounced - her back, so, very, slightly tapering, to where your hand slips right off the last of it: the wide flare of her hips. "Now isn't that the gentleman's thing to do?" she asks.

"Of course." You sigh, resigned and in desperate need of water. "Of course," you add and smirk a little and slip your hand lower, toward where her skin is getting hot, and her body, "let's get you clean."

"Mm." She's already grinning. "You know what wasn't in those textbooks?"

"Oh, I can only guess." You bite your cheek and start to lower yourself back. "Give it a try."

Hyeju drags you by the wrist toward the hall, the bathroom, ostensibly the shower -

"There's no way in hell you don't want to put a baby in me, like, right fucking now."

"Is that what we're doing?"

Hyeju makes a face like you're stupid - she might've grabbed a towel on the way out. She wipes her chin a little while walking - the corner of her mouth where, well - where it looks like a little dribble has somehow remained. "No. But you’re going to fuck me like it is."

-

(There's got so much on her mind. 

The door of the shower rattling in its frame as she struggles standing up against it. Getting fucked so fast and full, the feeling of both your hands cupped beneath the weight of her breasts. It's not the fact of where you are and your situation, per say - more about the immediate, the imperative nature. About fucking you. She was already feeling herself like, leaking the moment the door shut, so all that waiting, all that patience, really - and it's what drove her insane when you were, well: like that, after she put her mouth around your cock, made a right and proper mess of herself, and sucked you off.

Though there's less on her mind, clearly, when she cums all over your cock.

She's crying with her tits up onto the glass, your palm holding her ribs. Your cum-slick cock working itself hard again as it slips, back and forth, as you're fucking her open, spread apart. It's your finger in her asshole. That's what's on her mind then. How the press of your knuckle lights her entire fucking spine on fire - how the other hand finds her clit in all this, too, when you're no longer supporting the both of you but rather Hyeju is folding on her bent knee and trusting, on shaking and shivering, raw nerves, that you're not going to collapse.

"Fucking. God, please-"

There's the harsh slap of flesh - skin on wet skin, your palms against the sides of her ass and the curve of the breast. But otherwise - it's you, sighing - soft and gentle, like you can't get over the feel of her. "Hyeju, oh-fucking, god, fucking," is what you're saying, and it doesn't end up really mattering which one of you came last because she can feel you twitching, squelching in and out with how badly you're wanting to explode inside, but also you can feel her cunt absolutely begging, this fucking fluttering and clamping down on every thrust and the moment you manage to grind this angle she loses her ability to speak properly because you're not just, like - fucking her-

Just, absolutely, completely pounding her pussy, stretching her insides, dragging and sliding along the walls; each rough rub and thrust makes her knees quiver until her body is trembling and falling. But mostly her voice, the sharp gasp that shakes into her, how her nails are scraping the walls of the shower stall and she's saying - telling, crying and asking and wondering and pleading - just utterly astounded:

"Amazing," she huffs, breathes coming out cloudy and true onto the pane of glass, "you - it’s, fucking amazing.")

-

“And I am… Ironman.”

Your eyes flicker awake, hazy, as Tony Stark snaps his fingers, killing himself alongside Thanos’ army in the process.

The TV's long been running on background noise, though not as ambient. Its characters now bickering between the rubble and ruins and being picked up for the end credits. In the dark of the screen, you see Hyeju had nodded off and slumped over the side of your body. A new year means new beginning means resolutions and diets and gym routines -

Maybe no sooner than the sun can come up, apparently.

You lean over to grab your phone from the table: 4:14 A.M.

There's a lot of things you want to say, even more you want to hear, but your mind has begun to settle a bit - a lazy and dreamy thing that fills you with this sort of, tired kind of - not sad, or empty - no, of course not. That's hardly fitting; not after tonight. You want to wrap this in an idealistic sort of sentiment - maybe hold Hyeju close and let the hour carry you and the comfort be enough to forgive whatever there is to miss: like the fact, it's still really dark, so dark even outside. The moon reflecting off the sheet of snow on the street. And not even a distant dog barking, or car driving by or someone playing loud music in the early hours of the new year.

As the film drifts off into another set of commercials, you slip into an easy sleep that feels effortless. Your head drops, landing on the cushion by the arm of the couch, where Hyeju's hand begins to slip mindlessly across your belly, tickling your waist and causing you to slightly squirm - things are cooling down, but still a little agitated.

"Don't tell me you're waking me up, cause I just -"

She kisses the pulse at your throat and answers, mumbling half-words into the spot below your ear. "A kiss for a new year."

And maybe the world doesn't owe you anything at all.

Maybe it just gave you more than enough.

#hyeju smut #loona smut #loona hyeju smut #loossemble smut #loossemble hyeju smut #olivia hye smut #loona olivia hye smut #kpop smut #male reader #capslocked kinkvember

[appocalipse]

summary: you were way too drunk last night and said some funny things...so, of course, steve had no other option but take you to his place to take care of you. :)

read part 1 here

˚ ༘✶ ⋆｡˚ ⁀➷

Your head hurts.

Everything feels a little weird, in fact, but especially your head, spinning and throbbing and, when you try to pry your eyes open, the sudden harsh light streaming into the room feels like it's physically boring straight through your brain.

"Fuck," you whimper pitifully, eyes squeezing shut once more. Your ears are ringing, there's a coppery film lining the inside of your mouth and, for a terrible second, your stomach churns dangerously. "Fuck."

Someone hums somewhere near your right ear. A low, gravelly, vaguely amused sort of hum. There is absolutely nothing and no one alive on this green earth that would hum in that particular fashion except your best friend.

You peel your eyelids apart with great difficulty. When you tilt your head to the right, you see Steve sitting on the edge of the bed, gazing down at you with a soft look on his face.

Naturally, you proceed to freak the fuck out.

"Jesus Christ," you cry, scrambling backwards until you feel the back of your head slam against the headboard with a resounding thud. The dull throb in the back of your skull intensifies, and you have to fight back the urge to throw up. "Ow! Shit, I—What—what happened? Why are you in my—"

Hold on a second...this is not your room.

You cast an anxious, furtive glance around the unfamiliar setting of Steve Harrington's guest room. Panic floods your veins and has your heart hammering in your chest when you notice that you're clad in only one of his shirts and sweatpants that definitely don't belong to you.

Oh, Dear Lord.

Did something happen last night that you can't remember? Did something — oh, God, no.

Steve raises his eyebrows at you as though he can read your mind. "Relax. Nothing happened, relax, come back down," he coos gently, placing a placating hand on your arm. "And I...I didn't see anything, if that's what you're worried about. Nancy and Robin, uh...they helped you shower and get changed last night. Not me."

You cover your face with both hands, letting out a muffled groan as your memories come trickling back in. You don't remember every little detail from the previous night, but what you do remember is already more than enough to fill you with mortification and regret.

"...you said some pretty interesting things while you were drunk, though."

"Shut up," you mumble, peeking up at him through splayed fingers, "go away."

"Really, though," Steve continues, the teasing glint in his eyes a sure sign that he is very much enjoying your suffering, "who knew you found me so attractive?"

"Oh, Jesus," you mutter, groaning as you slide down to hide underneath the comforter, "where are my clothes? I want to leave now."

Steve snickers but makes no move to get up from his perch on the bed. You can hear the rustling of fabric, like he's adjusting his position as he waits for you to come out from under the blanket. "Clothes are in the wash, sorry," he says, sounding very much not sorry at all. "You, um, thought it was a good idea to lie down on the grass last night."

"Kill me now."

"Nope," he chirps, quite cheerfully so, "can't do that, because then who would watch Back to the Future with me tonight?"

You part the comforter just enough to peer up at him from beneath the thick layer of blanket.

"'Back to the Future'?" you echo, trying to ignore the fact that you feel a little lightheaded when Steve smiles down at you.

He looks nice. He always does, but even more so now for some reason — you're guessing it has something to do with the fact that you just woke up and haven't had the time to mentally prepare yourself for seeing him up close yet.

"Mmhmm. You up for it?"

"I'm pretty sure that my head is literally going to explode any time now." 

It's really not that bad anymore, but Steve doesn't need to know that, does he?

He nods seriously in agreement. "Right, because you drank way more than you should've last night. Might have mentioned something about rules and...mhmm, what was it? Oh, yes, dying if I didn't let you touch my hair…?"

"No, I didn't."

"You really did," he tells you, leaning back on the heels of his palms, "but don't worry, it was cute."

"I am very much worried," you say miserably.

Steve lets out a quiet sigh and leans forward again, hands reaching out to tug the blanket down far enough to uncover your face completely. "Come on," he says, "do you need anything? Aspirin, maybe? Food? Water?"

You consider his offer, taking the time to mull it over while you avoid his gaze. 

"Why did you bring me home with you?" you ask, curious despite yourself. "Why didn't you just take me home?"

"You, uh...really didn't want me to. Pretty much refused to let go of me all night."

"Steve."

"No, really!" he insists, holding both hands up in surrender. "It was like trying to pry a koala off a tree. You even asked—"

You let out a helpless moan of protest and turn away from him as much as you can, hiding your face in the pillow. Steve laughs, clearly delighted by the fact that he's managed to thoroughly embarrass you in less than ten minutes.

"You asked me if I—"

"I don't wanna know!"

"—would sleep in your bed with you."

"Nope," you whisper, your voice coming out a little garbled due to the way you've pressed your face into the pillows, "don't wanna hear it. Shut up, Steve, oh my God. Please."

"It was very adorable."

"I was drunk."

"Still. Cute."

You prop your head up on your elbow so that you can see him a little better, keeping the blanket held tightly around your shoulders as you do. "Sorry I called you. I don't even remember doing it, Tina just told me to and…sorry."

Steve looks down at his lap, shifting a little uncomfortably on the bed.

"I don't mind," he says, lifting his gaze up to meet yours briefly. "You said you missed me. At the party."

A dry, humorless chuckle leaves you and you cringe when the sudden motion sends a sharp pain lancing through your forehead. "Ow. Of course you would remember that," you say, cheeks heating up.

"Do you...remember everything?"

You blink, momentarily confused by the sudden change in conversation. "Everything?" you ask, more to buy yourself some time than anything else.

"You, um..." Steve trails off, clearly unsure of how to broach the topic with you, "you said I made you feel…stuff inside. That you felt stuff. Or something like that. Do you...remember saying that?"

You can practically feel all the color draining out of your face, leaving behind a blank canvas that hides none of your inner panic. 

"Uh...no, no, I don't. Do you have a...I need to, um, use your bathroom, like, right now, if you don't mind."

Steve blinks. "Oh, okay. Sure. I bought you a toothbrush earlier, by the way. It's in the medicine cabinet if...if you want."

"Yep," you say, climbing out from under the blanket with as much dignity as you can muster (which is very little), "yep, okay, thanks. I'm...gonna go do that. Now. Okay, bye."

You spend a good five minutes inside the bathroom splashing water in your face while silently wishing for death to come claim you sooner rather than later. Then, you brush your teeth with the toothbrush Steve left out for you — which is totally not cute, it's not cute, why did he do that, ugh, damn him — before venturing out into the hall.

"Steve?"

"Kitchen," he calls out from somewhere at the bottom of the stairs, "you want pancakes?"

You hesitate.

The idea of staying to have breakfast alone with Steve Harrington seems oddly intimate after last night, a dangerous prospect that will undoubtedly lead to awkward small talk and more teasing. However, he did go out of his way to buy you a toothbrush this morning...

You swallow down the nervousness you feel and pad barefoot down the staircase into the foyer, following the sounds of clinking utensils and soft humming to the kitchen.

Steve looks up from his place at the stove when you appear in the doorway.

"Hey," he greets, giving you a quick once over. "How's your head?"

"Feels like there's a little person in there hitting it repeatedly with a little hammer," you admit, grimacing a little as you come further into the room and sit down at the island. "Thanks, by the way. For helping me out last night. And today. I really am sorry for...um, you know, that."

"'That'?"

You purse your lips and Steve grins.

"Yes, that," you mutter, swiveling your seat from left to right while you watch him attempt to read a recipe on the back of a box of pancake mix. "Drunk me is like, twice as embarrassing as sober me."

"Embarrassing isn't the word I'd use."

"Please," you scoff, "I was pathetic. I could barely walk by myself."

Steve glances back at you. "I didn't think you were pathetic."

You raise an eyebrow at him skeptically.

"Okay, maybe a little pathetic," he concedes with a little snort, "but mostly just…sweet."

"Sweet?"

"Yeah, sweet. Don't know if anyone's ever told you that before."

"Sweet," you say again, the headache suddenly no more than an afterthought. "That's how you'd describe me?"

Steve, apparently having given up on making sense out of the instructions on the back of the box, turns around to lean against the counter behind him and studies you with his arms folded loosely over his chest.

"Yes," he says, tilting his head to the side a little. "Not the word you expected me to say?"

There's something about the way he's looking at you. It's warm and piercing all at once, like he can see right through you. It makes it hard for you to breathe all of a sudden, hard for you to do anything but gape at him like a goldfish that's been pulled out of water.

"Uh, I'm...confused."

"Me too," he admits with a little huff of laughter. "I was thinking about what you said."

"About your hair?"

"No, well, yeah, but—" Steve pauses, dragging a hand down his face with a weary sigh. "Look, what you said to me yesterday, about the things I make you feel, I—"

"I said I'm sorry—"

"Don't apologize," Steve interrupts, shooting you an unamused look, "I'm trying to say something here, come on, give me a sec."

"Right. Sorry. Go on."

"You're not supposed to apologize for apologizing."

"I'm s—okay, right. Mouth shut."

Steve purses his lips to stifle his amusement at your antics. You fold your arms in front of your chest and keep your gaze fixed firmly on the marble countertop as you wait for him to continue.

"I, uh," he says, pushing himself away from the counter so that he can wander over to the other side of the kitchen, where you sit, "I feel things too, you know. With you."

"Oh."

"Yeah," Steve chuckles, scrubbing a hand across the back of his neck as he stops beside you, "'Oh'. Weird, right?"

You'd like to, but can't think of anything clever to say that would serve as a suitable response. You don't think Steve's looking for one, anyway, because he reaches out to tap his fingers lightly on the back of your hand, taking a seat on the stool next to yours.

"S'weird, 'cause I don't know if you meant what you said when you were drunk, or if it was just the alcohol talking, or what."

You shake your head quickly, and then wince because of the way the headache thuds behind your right eye.

"Robin says I'm an idiot and should stop being such a chicken," he continues, with a slight roll of his eyes. "And Eddie says if I don't 'shut up and tell you how I feel soon', he'll do it for me."

You nod, smiling despite your hangover. "Eddie's, uh, got a point, no?"

"Maybe," Steve allows, rubbing absently at the side of his neck.

He lets his hands slide down to the legs of your stool, fingers curling around the metal of each side. You don't quite understand what he's doing until he gives them a light tug, jerking you closer to him without warning.

You let out a little shriek of surprise as you reach up to clutch onto the first solid thing your hands find — his forearms. 

"Ah! What—Steve!"

He's got an amused smile on his face, but his eyes are bright and nervous all at once. Steve pushes your stool even closer to him, until your knees knock against his own and he's forced to lean down to keep his eyes on you.

You hold his gaze steadily as he edges closer. "What are you doing?" you murmur, watching his eyes flit downward to track the movement of your tongue as it peeks out to wet your dry lips.

"Not sure yet," Steve hesitates when your lips are a hairsbreadth apart. He watches, half-dazed, half-entranced by the way you stare back at him, unblinking. "But I've got a theory."

"A theory?"

He lowers his head toward yours. You press your hands flat against the hard plane of his chest to steady yourself, fingers splaying over the soft material of his t-shirt as you curl them around the fabric. Steve exhales, and you can feel his breath on your skin, a soft tickle that raises the goosebumps all over your skin.

"Wanna hear it?"

You nod slowly, aware of the way his eyes darken as they trace your face. He's so close that you can make out the fine dusting of freckles and moles that litter his skin, the long fan of his lashes as they flutter to a close. If you moved even slightly, your lips would brush against his.

"What's your…your theory?" you whisper.

You can feel his heartbeat thudding in his chest as he releases his hold on your stool, lifts both hands up to cradle your face instead. He slides the tips of his fingers along the side of your neck, lets his thumb trace your jaw.

"I think," Steve says, and you can tell he's struggling to string two coherent words together when you feel his thumb quiver against your cheekbone. "I think that, uh, you're—Christ, I—"

His nose brushes against yours and you tilt your chin up instinctively, chasing the brief contact. You smirk. "Christ, you...?"

"Shut up," Steve huffs out a breathless laugh. "I'm getting to it."

"Are you?" you tease, wrapping your fingers around his wrist, your turn to pull him towards you gently.

Steve goes easily, moving his hand from your face to brace the back of your neck. "I think," he starts, eyes crinkling at the corners, "that I might be in love with you."

It's such an unforeseen, unexpected confession that your heart almost gives out in your chest. 

You gape up at him, at his crooked grin, at his rosy cheeks. "You think?"

He blinks and then squints down at you like he can't decide whether he wants to be annoyed at your antics or kiss you. You hope for the latter, but he says, "What're you, a parrot?"

Shrugging, you're unable to keep your lips from quirking into a grin of your own. "Rude."

Steve's head falls forward and he rests his forehead against yours. You can feel his pulse thundering wildly against the hand you've pressed flat against his chest, and it makes you feel a little better about your own pounding heart.

"M'sorry."

You smooth a hand over his shirt and hook a finger under the neckline. "Forgiven," you tell him.

"Good," Steve says, nudging his nose against yours playfully.

You want to say something else, maybe tease him about his hair or something equally as inconsequential, but he doesn't let you. Instead, he leans down and closes the distance between you with a slow, tentative press of his lips to yours.

Now, Steve's mouth is soft and warm, and he kisses you like he's got all the time in the world. You shiver when he drags his fingers up the back of your neck, tangling them in your hair so that he can pull you closer yet.

You only pull back when the need to breathe becomes too urgent, giggling at the little noise of protest he lets out as you do. But Steve is nothing if not persistent, and he pulls you back in almost immediately, the movement so abrupt that you nearly topple backwards off the stool.

"Steve—I..." you manage to say, between your giggles and the heated press of his lips against yours. "I still...need to breathe, mister."

He huffs out a little laugh against the side of your neck, nips at the sensitive skin in retaliation. You squeal in delight and jab him playfully in the stomach, laughing as he recoils in mock agony.

"Stop laughing," Steve complains, the warmth of his own laughter tickling the underside of your chin when he nuzzles his nose into your neck once more, "come on, you're ruining the moment."

"Wait," you breathe, right before his lips meet yours again, "so...no pancakes, then?"

He drops his forehead against your shoulder and shakes with quiet laughter."You," Steve mumbles into the side of your neck, "are something else, you know that?"

You grin. "Apparently, you like that. Love that...no?"

You can feel him smile, the stretch of his lips curving against the skin of your shoulder.

"Apparently...yeah, I do. I do."

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve x you #steve x reader #stranger things fanfic #stranger things imagine #steve harrington scenario #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington one-shot #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington headcanon #steve harrington headcanons #steve harrington hcs #steve harrington hc #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington dialogue #steve harrington fluff

[sunkissed-zegras]

𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 ─ PB⁵

౨ৎ ─ summary | request -> "STOP IM SO HAPPY UR MAKING PAIGE X WBB MEDIA MANAGER A SERIES BC I SENT IN THE FIRST REQUEST 😽😽😽 fic with paige and reader being out and a little wasted and getting interviewed by fellow college student about their relationship and working together etc. (could end in smut if u like ;)) // inspo: https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTL9fH1p1/" (love you nonnie thank you for giving me the idea to make this series, ur the best mwahhhh hope you enjoyed)

─ word count | 1k

─ warnings | so much sexual tension its bad, paige being possessive (in a cutesy way!), interviewer being kinda weird/suggestive, mentions of drinking/getting high, some language, nothing else?

─ taglist | @xocherishxo @iienstein @yazmunson @euphternal @uraesthete @hello-nah817 @wanderlusturous and here's a link to my taglist if anyone would like to join!!

─ ev's notes | okay so this is kinda part of the manager series (if u guys want it to be) or if u have no idea what it is, thats fine!!!! i wanted to make it a standalone cus it felt better to me that way but whichever you'd like to read it, read it!! idk why that specific tiktok is my roman empire, it's just the way she talks and EVERYTHING makes me physically so like..... obsessed i don't even know, like GODDDDD im so attracted to her

YOUR FEET HAD begun to hurt an hour ago and your entire body felt sore, though you didn't feel very tired though.

You were two and half redbull vodkas in and let's just say you were tipsy; you weren't quite drunk yet but you were definitely on the way. As you stumbled slightly through the sidewalks of the UConn campus, your only guide was Paige's hand on your waist. The combination of the alcohol and Paige's presence made everything seem surreal, like you were walking through a really good dream.

You felt giddy, that was the only way you could describe it. You were drunk, sure but mostly off of Paige's lingering touch. You were excited by it, as if every brush of her fingers against your skin sent a jolt of electricity through your body. The night air was crisp, but you hardly noticed as you leaned into her warmth, reveling in the sensation of her warmth.

Paige's laughter bubbled up beside you was infectious, pulling you deeper. You found yourself laughing along, not entirely sure what was so funny but not exactly caring either. The world seemed to shrink to just the two of you in a bubble of tipsy euphoria.

You and Paige leaned against the railing, a cup in her hand as she gazed at you while you spoke about god-knows-what, she wasn't really sure anymore. She was zoned out until she felt a tap on her shoulder, to be met with a pair of new eyes.

Her face contorted into confusion as she sat up, glancing at you then back at the stranger. "Are you Paige and Y/N?"

"Yeah, what's up?" She replied quickly as she straightened up, a forced smile on her face.

He returned the smile gratefully, "I'm a big fan, uh... can we interview you two?" The guy spoke quickly as he glanced back at his friend, who was waving awkwardly.

Paige glanced back at you with a smile of her own as she waited for your approval. You nodded slowly as you glanced back at the guys as you surveyed the surroundings. "Just be chill, okay?"

He nodded as his friend pulled out his phone as he took out his phone and began using it as a microphone. He cleared his throat as he smiled, looking at his friend to start recording.

"Who are here with today?" He spoke as he brought it up to Paige's lips, then yours.

"Paige Bueckers,"

"And uh, Y/N L/N. By the way, she's not drinking alcohol," you added with a smile as Paige laughed.

Paige nodded and gestured to her drink. "I'm drinking a shirley temple, no alcohol."

"Yeah, we don't do that around here." The guy added with a laugh as the two of you glanced at each other, holding in your laughter.

Paige grinned, her tone amused as she played. "Y/N's here to keep in check though,"

"So you guys are actually close, like outside all the sports stuff?" He glanced in between you guys, noticing the close proximity between you.

You shared a knowing look with Paige. "Oh yeah, Paige and I are practically inseparable," you replied with a grin, your voice laced with fondness.

Paige nodded as she gazed at you, a smirk playing on her lips. "Yeah, Y/N's my girl, on and off the court."

You couldn't help but feel warm under her unwavering gaze as you laughed and averted your gaze back to the guy who was watching you two closely.

"As in like, best friend?" He clarified as he looked back at the camera with a laugh.

"What else?" Paige replied with amusement and slight agitation as she finally broke her gaze, a small laugh leaving her lips. "Obviously,"

"How is it like working together though, if you guys are really close? If I had to spend all that time with my best friend, not sure I would make it." The interviewer joked as he glanced back at the camera.

Paige furrowed her eyebrows as she laughed. "It's not bad at all, it's really fun. We hang out a lot, we get to go on trips together and share hotel rooms, it's a blessing."

She glanced back at you with a smile as you nodded slowly, feeling yourself draw closer to her. "Yeah, it is a blessing," that was all you could get out as you watched Paige wet her lips and laugh, turning away slightly.

You were pretty sure that the interviewer had caught on to the obvious tension but you didn't care at this point, you were lost in the moment, captivated by Paige. The interviewer's words seemed to fade into the background as you found yourself drawn closer to her, your heart pounding with a mixture of excitement.

"Why do you wear Paige's jersey rather than anyone else's?" He asked, his tone laced with amusement as he watched you zone back in.

Paige's eyebrows furrowed as she looked at the guy, clearly getting annoyed by his stupid question. But before she could respond with a less polite answer, you did with a laugh. "I don't only wear her jersey, it was one time and it was because it was her first game back after her injury."

Paige's expression softened as she nodded in agreement, her irritation dissipating. "Yeah, it meant a lot to me to see her wearing my jersey that day."

The interviewer nodded before he glanced back at the camera before to you two again. "Okay, okay. Last question, do you think you could beat me in a 1v1?"

"Absolutely," Paige replied with a laugh as she grabbed your arm and pulled you away, beginning to walk off before the interviewer kept talking.

"Okay bet, whoever wins gets to take Y/N out," he called out, his tone playful as he flashed a smirk toward the camera.

Paige turned around to give him the nastiest glare of all time as she kept walking forward. "I already do that, bro."

You stifled a laugh at Paige's quick retort, her playful possessiveness bringing a warmth to your cheeks. The interviewer's eyes widened in surprise at Paige's response, clearly caught off guard by her boldness as he laughed, turning back to the camera.

You two just walked off as Paige's hand moved down back to your waist as you continued on your way. Despite the slightly heated exchange, you couldn't help but feel a flutter of warmth in your chest at Paige's possessiveness.

──── COMMENTS

cam 🎀 | this has to be their hard launch or something cus DAMN😭 ♡ 792

↳ user893492948493 | ngl i can't even deny it anymore and i was the biggest anti paige and y/n person OUT THERE

↳ lily :p | "my girl" 🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋

Jake | is it just me or does paige like girls? ♡ 701

↳ ella :) | ????? yeah????

↳ Jake | this is news to me uhh

lovergirl <3 | okay what about sharin hotel rooms now... ♡ 432

ZM | bro why would u say that 😭😭😭 in front of PAIGE BUECKERS 😭😭 ♡ 1.1k

✌🏼💥💁🏻‍♀️ | am i interrupting something... 😰 ♡ 994

cailey ☀️ | okay who is y/n whats her instagram where does she go who is she is she dating anyone wow shes beautiful ♡ 2k

↳ 💯💯 | everyones collective reaction when they first see y/n

↳ cailey ☀️ | going through a rabbit hole rn brb, she's so pretty what 😭

↳ #1 swiftie 💍 | cailey watch out girl ur on paige's watchlist now....

🤗🤗 | the damn tension in air damn im not even y/n and i feel hot ♡ 118

Thomas W | they are both drunk as hell bro what is up with the laughing 😭 ♡ 1.2k

user83948928932 | bro met y/n l/n and paige bueckers and continued to ask the worst questions of all time ♡ 591

↳ uconn luvr | and paige was good with the comebacks like okayyy baee protect ur girl!!

↳ 💥 bow | they are not dating, can two girls just be friends anymore?

↳ uconn luvr | she literally calls her "my girl" in like the first 2 seconds of the video

Isabelle Reece ✨ | paige was too quick w that reply to just be "best friends" with her 💀 ♡ 903

↳ ur fav aries | bro i know she was smooth with it too like💁🏻‍♀️

y/n's bitch 💙 | idk who i wanna be more y/n or paige ♡ 252

↳ mikey 🤑 | theyre both so hot

↳ 🧚‍♀️ | mike ima have sit you down for this...

↳ taylor! | ohh... thats not...

Chris | shes cooking you respectfully ♡ 1k

i 💙 uconn wbb | if this doesn't prove y/n and paige are together idk what will

♡ 853

────

part 2?? cus i lowk wanna write smut for this now... lmk

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

#wcbb x reader #wcbb #ncaaw #uconn huskies #uconn #uconn wbb #uconn women’s basketball #paige bueckers #paige buckets #paige bueckers x reader #paige x reader #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers fanfiction #paige bueckers x oc #paige bueckers headcannons #paige bueckers fic #ncaa women’s basketball

[unclewaynemunson]

I definitely think it takes Eddie a while to accept that Steve changed. He remembers what he was like in high school.

When Steve asks him out, for whatever reason, Eddie says yes. But he’s determined not to fall in love, because deep down Harrington’s still a dick. But he’s cute, and Eddie can smile and play pretend.

But then! Steve goes full happy relationship mode, he tells Robin (obv), introduces Eddie to the other adults as his bf, and is just generally being sweet.

MY SWEET ANON I HOPE YOU'LL STILL SEE THIS!!!

I'm so sorry it took me ages to answer this one! But I really loved the idea of this (the good ol' steddie + misunderstanding about what they mean to each other with a dash of terrible communication skills my beloved) so i wanted to give it my proper attention, which i didn't have enough time for over the past few months. Buuut the words have finally found their way to my keyboard so here is the first part of what probably will turn into a 3-part ficlet, I hope it's something like what you had in mind when you sent this ask to me <3

---

Eddie has been acting weird all day. Maybe Steve is too much of a romantic, but he can't help it: he wanted to celebrate this day. Exactly a month ago, he asked Eddie out. And it's been good. They've spent a lot of time together. They've been on lots of dates, spent plenty of nights together... But today, things are different, somehow. Eddie is different. He turned Steve down for a dinner date, he didn't stop by Family Video during lunchtime, and when Steve shows up at the trailer to surprise him with flowers, he merely frowns and pulls back from their kiss before it can even properly get started.

'Everything alright?' Steve asks, trying to catch his boyfriend's gaze – which isn't exactly easy with how Eddie is turning away from him to not-so-gently put the flowers down in a corner of the trailer's living room.

'Yeah, sure,' Eddie mumbles, not really looking at him. 'It's just – I didn't really expect to see you today. We didn't have plans.'

Steve chuckles, trying to get the tension out of his chest. 'Didn't know I was expected to schedule an appointment before coming here.' He tries to play it off as a joke, but the tone of his voice doesn't really want to cooperate.

Eddie finally turns back towards him and Steve catches the end of an eye-roll.

'I'm just not feeling too great today, alright?' It sounds a bit stiff and Steve pauses. He wonders if he did something wrong, if he somehow invaded Eddie's space – even though he has showed up at the trailer on countless evenings in the past month.

'What's wrong?'

'Nothing,' Eddie answers, a little bit too fast. 'I told you, I'm not feeling so well.'

And now that he can see his face properly, Steve notices that Eddie is indeed looking paler than usual.

'Hey, don't worry about it,' he says. 'I can stay to take care of you, if you want to. We don't have to do anything. You can go to bed early and I'll keep you company. I can make you some soup, read to you... You could've just told me you're not feeling good, you know. I would've picked up some fruit on my way over here and stopped by the library for you.'

'You don't have to do any of that, Steve.'

Steve tries to ignore the fact that it's been ages since Eddie has last called him by his official first name. He doesn't like the sound of it.

'But I want to,' he says instead. He takes a step towards Eddie, lifts his arms to wrap them around him – but Eddie swats his arms away before he can properly embrace him.

'Don't.' He sounds cold and detached, so different from how he usually sounds. 'Don't act like this is something it isn't.'

'Like this is something –' Steve echoes, completely caught off-guard by this turn of events. 'Like what?'

'Jesus Christ, you really don't know when to stop, do you?'

'What?' He takes a stumbling step backwards, driven away by the force in Eddie's words.

'We're not – like that,' Eddie stutters out. 'We're just fucking around, aren't we? So you don't need to pretend. You don't need to bring me flowers. You don't need to take care of me when I'm sick. You don't owe me anything, alright? You can go home.'

Steve takes another step backwards, until his back collides with the door of the trailer. He blindly grabs the door handle behind him.

'Alright,' he says, trying desperately not to let his voice tremble audibly. 'I hear you, loud and clear. I'll – I'll leave you alone, then.'

Read pt2 here (Edit: it's actually 5 parts now. You can read the whole thing on ao3 here)

#don't mind me rambling about stranger things #anon seriously thank you so much for sending this to me!! it's been a great scenario to explore #and my apologies for the angst lmao #but i promise more will follow soon #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #fruity ficlet

[luveline]

hi honey, i love you so so much!!

what about stripper!reader with derek morgan?? he's on a case where strippers are being murdered, and while hotch is driving morgan calls you and tells you not to go into work because of what's going on, and emily is listening in on the conversation from the backseat and they tease him

thank youu!! love you!

ty for requesting lovely!! ilysm ♡

"I know you don't like listening to me, but could you do me a favour? Just this once?" 

Emily leans over in her seat so Spencer can see her side eye. "Who's Morgan talking to?" 

"Stay home tonight. No, this isn't a jealousy thing, you vixen–" 

Spencer shrugs. "No idea. But–" 

"But," Emily agrees. They've just left a crime scene with a specific victim, and now Morgan's on the phone asking someone to stay home. That someone would have reason to visit said crime scene's location, and the word vixen suggests female rather than male, which means, "Morgan has a secret stripper girlfriend." 

Spencer's entire face takes his frown, eyebrows pinched, mouth quirked into a telling line. "I like the implausible," he murmurs, "but that feels illogical. Where would they have met?"

"Uh," Emily says, widening her eyes at him. "Where do you think, Spence?" 

"Morgan doesn't need to go to a strip club." 

Emily understands what Spencer's saying. There are lots of reasons that people frequent strip clubs or gentlemen's clubs and none of those reasons apply to Derek. It's possible he could go socially, but it's just so unlike him, it doesn't add up. 

"I'm telling you the truth. I can't give you more detail than that, I just need you to stay home tonight." Derek pauses, laughs. "Alright," —his voice takes on a mechanical rendition, clearly having been fed a line he has to repeat aloud— "I, Derek Morgan, am an ignorant, jealous man, who can't cope with the fact that you don't want me, and am making up sad and childish lies to get you to stay home from your job. Is that what you wanted? Yeah, laugh it up." 

Emily laughs and grabs the headrest as he hangs up on you, pulling herself forward to taunt him as is required. "Care to explain yourself?" 

Derek sighs. "This is why I didn't tell you guys." 

"What!" Spencer says, though his smile is more audible than his incredulity. 

"So you have something to tell us?" Emily asks. 

Derek knows he can't weasel his way out of telling them, and he doesn't really want to. "I don't have a secret stripper girlfriend," he says, rolling his eyes, "she's not my girlfriend. She is an exotic dancer at one of the clubs downtown, and I met her at Home Depot." 

Emily isn't perturbed that Derek heard their gossiping. She's shameless. She doesn't even care that Hotch is frowning behind the wheel. "What was an exotic dancer doing at Home Depot?"

"Weirdly, Emily, she has a home. She wanted help finding renter friendly flooring." 

"Can we meet her?" 

"Never," Derek says with a smile. Emily couldn't know this, but he really likes you. You're sweet, super funny, and yes, you're a stripper. You work hard. Pole dancing is as physically demanding as any manual labour and you're damn good at it. "Ever." 

Spencer interjects the ensuing argument with a statistical analysis of strippers who are homeowners (unfairly few), but Morgan doesn't answer, trying to read a new text from you discretely. 

Sorry if I embarrassed you at work :( is it really not safe to go ?? Maybe u can come and be my bodyguard. I won't even make u tip me 4:10PM

He sends back, Really not safe. Stay home for me, relax for a few days. Call you tonight even if nothing changes 4:11PM

My hero <3 I trust u, but be careful OK ? and pls if it isn't too much trouble can u bring back some of those weird candies again? thank u thank u <3<3<3 4:14PM

Hotch makes a quiet sound of approval, eyes on the road. "The same girl you were with at Docklands? Rossi said she was cute." 

"She is." 

"Rossi met her?" Emily asks. "Oh, you're the worst."

#derek morgan #derek morgan x reader #derek morgan x you #derek morgan x y/n #derek morgan x fem!reader #derek morgan imagine #derek morgan fluff #derek morgan fanfic #derek morgan oneshot #derek morgan scenario #derek morgan drabble #derek morgan fic #derek morgan fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

[jayke0]

A Pleasant Surprise

Summary: Steven has had something on his mind for a while now, and finally he divulges his fantasy to you; degrading was certainly not on your playing cards.

Rating: nsfw, smut

Warnings/Content: sub!Steven, dom!reader, fem!reader, “mommy” title, degrading, grinding, cumming in pants, lmk if there's anything else I should add :).

Word count: 1,441

Credit: @automnepoet for proofreading ily.

………......................…………………………………….

When Steven had come to you with a “fun idea”, you'd expected something along the lines of ”naive uni teacher gets fucked by his student”, but this was so much better.

“Love? I have a, uh…suggestion,” Steven calls from the bathroom between brushing his teeth. “Well, it's more of a proposal, really.”

“Yeah? Go on.” You're sitting in your bedroom reading some gruesome crime novel that Marc seems to have a real distaste for.

You hear the water running briefly before your boyfriend joins you in the room, warm morning sun streaming in through the cracked curtains and casting a soft glow over his face. “I mean, we don't have to do it now of course. I know you're reading and all that, and I have to get to work in a bit–.”

You close your book and pat the edge of the bed, making him instantly respond to your gesture by placing himself down. “I'm all ears, sweetheart, lay it on me.”

Blood rushes to Steven's face as he actually thinks about saying it outloud, feet shuffling a little on the creaky floorboards. The words feel stuck in his throat now that he has to speak them, despite the fact he'd thought about the whole image on numerous occasions... and in great detail.

“Heeyy c’mon,” your hand brushes his arm, and you move closer to him to wrap your arms fully around his, crinkling his blue floral shirt. “You know I can't read your mind, Steven… Though I wish I could, that'd be super fucking helpful, then the other two couldn't lie to me.”

His chuckle makes you smile and you feel him draw in a long breath.

”I wanna like… grind against you… and I want you to mock me for it, u-until I cum… in my trousers…”

The pauses between his words are almost comical, but you look up at his face and see that he's completely serious, looking at you with wide eyes and waiting for an answer.

“Oh! Right.”

“Ah, Gods! No no... no no no no no, forget it–.” He frantically shakes his head, his hands doing the same as his face scrunches. “It's weird, I'm sorry, pretend I never said anything. Me and my big bloody mouth.”

“Steven,” you say between giggles, hand resting on his soft face to pull his gaze towards you. “It's not weird, silly! I just didn't expect you to be the one that's into degrading.” Careful not to fall back off of the bed, you climb onto his lap, thighs either side of his as you examine his expression, how gorgeous he looks with his brows knitted together and his unruly curls that Marc would definitely be gluing down with copious amounts of gel right about now.

His chest deflates as he lets out a soft sigh, resting his head on your chest out of embarrassment while you link your arms around his neck to run your fingers through the long curls at the back of his head. You feel his hands graze up your back, gliding under your night shirt and making you shiver with the warmth.

“Are you sniffing me?”

“No! Well…” he pauses, “yeah, but not in a creepy way.” The man lifts his head and looks up at you with those big doe eyes, and you watch them close as you start rolling your hips down on him slowly. You're only in your underwear underneath that shirt, but Steven is fully clothed and ready for work… or at least he would be, if his eyes weren't fluttering shut and arousal wasn't growing in his tummy.

“I promise you, darling, I like your idea.” You reassure him with your hips drawing slow circles against the material of his trousers, creating a delicious friction. “As long as you tell me if it's too much, alright?”

The bed creaks a little with your grinding before he looks up at you, nodding with a kind of desperation in his eyes that lights a fire in your gut.

“You promise?”

“Yeah love, yeah I promise.” He says, his voice a little more whiny.

You don't bother yourself with working out the psychological reasons for why your boyfriend enjoys being degraded about how long he can last, chalking it up to his masculinity, despite your reassurances that he's just as much of a man as his other two alters.

“You've got 10 minutes, think you can do that?”

Steven groans at your question, since both of you know all too well that 10 minutes is more than enough time. Still, he nods, big puppy dog eyes looking up at you and begging you to divulge in his vision.

A smirk creeps across your face when you see those glassy eyes, your gaze trailing down to the blush dusting his cheeks and the straining muscles in his neck.

“God Steven, I love the way you look at me. Look at those big soft eyes, all for mommy, aren't they?”

He lets out a whimper with the use of that title, his cock stirring in his trousers and reminding you of the thin barrier that's stopping you from grinding on the rough material of his slacks all together. The man doesn't take his gaze off of you; he drinks in every one of your features as if he's seeing you for the first time.

Rocking his hips up, he pants.

“Yes mommy, all for you, I'm all for you.”

“That's right, sweetheart, those desperate eyes are for me. that dumb little face is mine.” You lean forward and nip his bottom lip, soothing it afterwards with your tongue as he gasps and bucks his hips.

“I can feel you twitching, baby. You just can't help it, can you? Always getting so worked up and hard when I'm around, maybe I should put this pretty cock in a cage, what do you think?”

Steven's shoulders drop as he leans forward into your neck, biting and sucking any skin he can get his mouth on while his hot breath and whimpers raise goosebumps over your skin.

The suction he had in your neck is broken as his head is suddenly jerked backwards, your grip tight in his hair and making him whimper pathetically.

“I asked you a question, sweetheart.”

His adam's apple bobs in his throat as he tries to suppress his moans, his head nodding wildly. “Yes mommy, I'd– agh–I'd love that.” His hips buck again.

“Mhm.. then you'd at least last longer than 5 minutes, you'd actually be able to fuck me properly.”

Steven's mouth hangs agape, his eyes now squeezed shut as his grip on your hips tighten and he guides your hips down on him harder, wanting more, anything.

“Sh–it… Ah- Feels so good.” His eyebrows knit together in a beautifully strained way. “More, gimme more–.”

You tut with a small smirk on your lips, rocking back and forth to coat his trousers in your own arousal that's seeped through your underwear.

“Oh, look at you, you gonna cum in your pants, baby? Gonna prove how pathetic you are to mommy?” You feel the muscles in his shoulders and back tighten. “C'mon sweetheart, cum for me, ruin those pants.”

Sweet moans and whimpers tumble from the man's rosy lips as he finally lets go, staining his boxers enough that you feel the wetness as it soaks a spot on his trouser leg.

His grip on your hips loosens, but he doesn't stop whimpering, soft babbles and huffs escaping his throat as he calms down. You stroke his head, combing your fingers through his hair as your hips slow. “Good boy, you're such a good boy, Steven.” You smile brightly at him, despite the fact his eyes are still shut.

They only flutter open when he feels your hand stroking his cheek and tilting his head down.

“Are you ok, baby? How do you feel?”

His cheeks are flushed bright red still, beads of sweat sitting on his forehead from the warmth of his button-up shirt. A smile cracks across his face as he nods shyly, “I'm ok– great, yeah.. I'm great, actually.”

“You sure? I didn't hurt your feelings, did I?”

He shakes his head and tilts face to kiss your palm. “No, you didn't, love. I promise.”

His eyes drift down to the wet patch on his trousers, your eyes following as you chuckle softly.

“Should probably change…” He mumbles while resting his head on your shoulder.

“Yeah, that's probably a good idea.” You place a kiss on his neck as you embrace him, ignoring the fact that he will most definitely be late to work… again.

...........................................................................

Tags 🖤: @boredzillenial @cowboymarcs @chichimisaki @faretheeoscar @fanofstuffidk @minigirl87 @marisferasiop @red-hydra @summonthesoups @steven-grants-world @queerponcho @ominoose @mynamesstevenwithav @rinverse @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @mooksmouse @cupidysm

#moon knight #moon knight system #moon boys #steven grant #moon knight smut #steven grant smut #oscar isaac characters #steven grant x reader

[lightfeltmemories]

dungeon meshi | delicious in dungeon; reactions to reader having a crush on them / having a crush on reader

dungeon meshi various x gender neutral reader

note: hey everyone, please be mindful that this is the very first time writing for these characters, i have watched every available episode but i am still reading the manga (though i do have a general idea about the setting and the characters backstories and personalities) so if any characters are ooc to you my apologies, don't be harsh im new here lol. sorry some of them are shorter than others i kind of ran out of ideas when it came to certain characters :p let me know in the comments or reblogs or more preferably in my ask box if you want me to do any other character.

characters: laois, falin, chilchuck, marcille, senshi, namari, shuro, izutsumi (i'm adding her here because feels weird leaving her out when i've added former members of the party, also this is purely sfw so nothing weird will be aimed towards her.)

trigger warnings: nothing out of the ordinary but just read the manga or watch the anime before reading this.

if you like this and my other fanfics, please be considerate to reblog my work, it not only helps reach a broader audience but it also motivates me to make more content like this!

laois touden

reader's crush: when laois finds out that you have a crush on him, his reaction is.. well, how do we put it this way? is he flattered? yes and no, he doesn't see himself as ugly but also doesn't look at himself as the most handsome guy in the world, but someone straight up having a crush on him is kind of new, he doesn't really care much for relationships at the very moment but has thought about settling down with someone he likes, will it be you?

laois' crush: when it comes to having a crush, he tries to be his normal self around you, but sometimes can't help but be a little nervous especially when the two of you are alone, sooner or later he comes to the conclusion of realizing the he indeed, likes you, but confessing is the hard part, he's never thought much about rejection, it is a normal part of life after all, but when it comes to you? it's an entirely different ball game.

falin touden

reader's crush: falin already has someone chasing after her; shuro, theres a 50/50 chance of her reaction to reader's crush being the same as shuro's, but could there be a different reaction this time?

falin's reaction: surprisingly less shy than her brother, when she comes to this conclusion she'll build up the right time to actually confess, not wanting to rush things, just watch out for shuro i guess.

chilchuck tims

reader's crush: chilchuck learning about reader's crush is a bit sad, though he's no stranger to romance as he not only had a wife but also three whole kids, he's not really good with emotions so he's kind of scared you'll leave him just like his wife did, so, if reader confesses, there's gonna be a high chance that you'll be rejected, just give it some time.

chilchuck's crush: this weird feeling in his chest whenever he see's you will confuse him at first.. there's no way he has a crush on you?? after his wife leaving him he didn't really have any interest in romance, he might as well just focus on his work at the moment, one of these days he'll bring up the courage to confess, just not right now.

marcille donato

reader's crush: she can't really decide on whether she'll return the feelings or not, definitely flattered is what i'll say.

marcille's crush: she's similar to falin, she'll build up a better relationship with you for the right time to confess, she tries to make it seem as if she's not into you but it's quite obvious to the other party members.

senshi of izganda

reader's crush: out of everyone, he'll definitely be the most flattered, someone having a crush on him wasn't something he put much thought into, not to mention romance kind of isn't his thing, nor does he think he have the time for a significant other.

senshi's crush: i don't think this is the very first time he's ever had feelings for someone, but it's definitely a special feeling, he's not nervous of confessing his feelings at all actually, and he's not that sensitive to rejection.

namari

reader's crush: namari wouldn't really know how to react, honestly, she's never given the idea of someone having a crush on her much thought, she won't care much about rejecting the reader, at least she's honest.

namari's crush: her crush will be a bit hard to spot but when it comes to you, there will be a notable soft spot, she treats you like everyone else and isn't afraid to scold you if you do something wrong.

shuro | toshiro nakamoto

reader's crush: in an au where he still has feelings for falin, he immediately rejects you, telling you boldly that his heart is for falin and falin alone, but lets go to an au where he either loses interest in her or doesn't like her at all; definitely flattered, someone liking him (back) isn't unheard of but it is... nice?

shuro's crush: just look at what he does with falin, he will propose to you at some point, of course when time goes by and he starts to fall for you harder and harder, until he just can't contain it anymore.

izutsumi

reader's crush: very, very strange, someone having a crush on her is.. almost unheard of, or she doesn't pay much attention, anywho, she doesn't know... how to react? she knows what to do if she doesn't return the feelings but... someone liking her is just weird lmao.

izutsumi's crush: she won't make it obvious.... or try to at least, she accepts affection from you much more than she does from the others and sticks by your side more.

#dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #laois touden #falin touden #marcille donato #chilchuk tims #senshi of izganda #namari of kahka brud #shuro dungeon meshi #izutsumi #dungeon meshi x reader #laois touden x reader #falin touden x reader #marcille donato x reader #chilchuck tims x reader #senshi x reader #namari x reader #shuro x reader #izutsumi x reader

[nanamiluvs]

can you do nsfw alphabet for gallagher? :3

just yes omg gallagher is so ngh... like someone commented on my last gallagher post, i want him and wriothesley to tag team me idc

gallagher nsfw alphabet !

pairing : gallagher x reader

rating : explicit

wc : 2.4k

warnings : smut content, reader is afab but no pronouns used, not beta read, reader is called "miss" and "baby" and "good girl", reader is smaller than gallagher in size, size kink, cum play, slight pet play, come eating, gallagher likes to torture himself, manhandling, praise kink, choking, spanking, gallagher eats pussy like a champ, face-fucking, very slight hair pulling, begging, mentions of creampies, overstimulation, teasing, so much teasing

a : aftercare

gallagher is not the biggest practitioner of aftercare, he'd much rather you two just lay down in a mess and leave the cleaning to later. but he's an acts of service type of man. if you want to be cleaned, he will clean you. if you want to be held, he's cuddling you already. gallagher can do whatever you want to do the point it comes off as weird, but really, he's fine with whatever you like. he wants whatever you want. this man can eat his own cum out of you with pleasure for fuck sake.

b : body part

gallagher loves how big he is. he knows his frame is large, wide shoulders and a build adorned with hard muscles. he acts like he's not aware of it, but he loves how you fit in his bulky arms. for you, gallagher loves anywhere he can grab or run his hands through: your waist, your tummy, your thighs, hips, throat- anywhere, really. to be honest, it doesn't matter but on a surface level, gallagher seems to be the type to prefer a heavier body.

c : cum

gallagher is messy and i mean it. he likes to see a mess on you or himself, he doesn't care, just make a mess. he loves to see his cum dirty your body, sprayed across your tits and stomach or seeping out of your cunt. his cum has an off-white color, thicker in density and he cums a lot. you don't know how it's possible, but the man just doesn't stop cumming. he loves to smear his cum too, even more when you scold him for it, laughing like a little boy.

d : dirty secret

gallagher is not shy, but the idea of wanting you to put a collar on him and treat him like a dog, is a little embarrassing. if you ask him to, he'd say something like 'eh, whatever you want, miss' and oblige. it's definitely not as if he's so fucking hard he's turned on by it, he just wants to go along with your requests.

e : experience

gallagher is probably quite experienced. his job is quite stressful, so why not let off some steam with some hook ups here and there? he's not one to judge you whether you're experienced or not, he simply thinks of his experience as an advantage to pleasure you. he knows what he's doing and he knows it so well.

f : favorite position

gallagher has no set favorite position since this man finds joy in throwing you around. sex with gallagher never finishes in the same position as it started, he will find a way to manhandle you to his whims. probably likes g-whiz, table top and upstanding citizen a lot. get used to him moving your body and handling you into another position he wants because he loves doing it.

g : goofy

gallagher is, most of the time, very laid-back during sex. there are times he's more serious, but usually it's him cracking a few jokes here and there. he doesn't see sex as a necessarily romantic thing- gallagher is someone who prefers to fuck rather than to make love. he's extremely cocky too, so much that you'd want to punch his grinning face in with your fist, but well, that's gallagher for you.

h : hair

gallagher definitely has a happy trail and i don't care what anyone else says. he's probably hairy down there, he doesn't let it get too wild since that bothers him but don't expect to see a completely bald surface. he likes it if you're more on the hairy side as well. for gallagher, the messier, the better when it comes to sex.

i : intimacy

gallagher, like i said, doesn't view sex as strictly romantic. he's often teasing you, dirty words spilling through his lips as he fucks you into utter bliss. this man fucks like he has no respect for you. the other times he's on the intimate side, gallagher can't help but smile fondly as his hips roll into yours, arms wrapped around your body with his low voice whispering in your ear. it's so unfair, how he can pull off both with ease.

j : jack off

gallagher probably jacks off once or maybe twice a week at max. i imagine him doing it after work, before he gets to sleep. he mainly does it to destress. i also imagine him wanting to see you masturbate, rough and calloused hands palming his clothed groin as he watches you pleasure yourself. he will not touch you unless you're done, cunt all wet and messy for his thick cock to fill up. and fill up, he will.

k : kink

gallagher is honestly the kinky type.

‎ ‎ ‎ begging : gallagher wants to see you beg. beg to cum, beg for him to finish inside you, beg for him to fuck you, beg and beg and beg. he finds it so arousing, the way you can go so vulnerable for a man like him. he's a meanie, too, making you beg for anything.

‎ ‎ ‎ choking : gallagher would hate to hurt you, but sometimes he can't help but wrap his hand around your throat as he fucks you. he's never too harsh, he knows how strong he is, his touch is more like a reminder of his presence. his thumb plays with your lip before he leans in and kisses you. he also absolutely loves getting choked by you, your smaller hands wrapped around his neck as you ride him, a teasing grin on his face as he struggles to breathe. he says you don't need to worry about going overboard as he can simply stop it if you do so. trust me, he doesn't want to.

‎ ‎ ‎ overstimulation : gallagher hits me as the type to be able to do it for hours on end, obsessed with making you cum over and over again before burying himself inside. he loves fucking you silly, your whining and moaning sound like music in his ears. loves overstimulating himself too.

‎ ‎ ‎ praise kink : gallagher has a praise kink. it's frustrating at this point, the way he can get you to do anything with that stupid smirk on his face and whispers of his, praising you for everything you do. so much that you want to choke him, yet he's just so sickeningly sweet with his words. anything you do well, he will praise you for it. he turns it into a game of whether you'll get his approval or not, going as far as making you beg and crawl for it, and then praise you for how well you've been. 'y'can do it for me, can't ya? good girl.' he can get you to do almost everything he wants with the providance of praises. likes to be on the receiving side on the times he's on the submissive side, often begging for praises during it. 'ah, i've been a good boy, right, baby? right? come and sit on it, please.'

‎ ‎ ‎ size kink : gallagher wants to tower over you. he wants to hold both of your wrists with one hand. he wants to see how small your hands look compared to his larger ones, he wants to see those big fingers of his slowly disappear inside your pussy, filling you like a dick would. yet it's not even close enough to the feeling of his cock, so big and heavy and just too much. he smiles and pushes further inside, relishing in how much you struggle to take him. how many times has it been? are you still not used to his length? he teases as his frame wraps around yours with your back pressed against his chest, enveloping you with all the warmth radiating from the man. he loves how he's just so big compared to you.

l : location

gallagher cares little about things such as locations. if there's a surface, he can fuck you. he has no shame, he can and will do it everywhere you want him to. obviously won't force you if that's not your thing, happy to oblige in the privacy of your own home. the location really doesn't matter to him, because at the end of the day, it's your walls wrapping around his cock so deliciously.

m : motivation

gallagher has a high sex drive, so i think he doesn't need much additional motivation. but your reactions would be the biggest motivating point for him to continue, in love with the way you whine when he rubs your clit or the way you squirm under his hands as he caresses your body. he will go to heaven and back just to hear you moan in ecstasy. would get hard again at the sight of his cum seeping out your folds.

n : no

gallagher most likely wouldn't have a strictly negative opinion on anything. he's a firm believer that everything can be tested but he's not a fan of the idea of physically hurting you with knives or other sharp weapons.

o : oral

gallagher eats pussy like a craved man. it's either him holding you down by your thighs as you sit on him or your plush thighs threatening to crush his skull when he goes down on you. you may think he does it to pleasure you, in reality, you couldn't be more wrong. he eats you out because that's what pleasures him, the taste of your juices along with the melodies your moans sound like in his ears. he grows so hard it's unbearable, yet no, he won't stop to fuck you for real. his hips grind against the bed, dick aching with need in his pants, low moans spilling from his mouth as his tongue laps your slick. his stubble grazes your lips as his jaw moves, your hips desperately chasing the friction. he also loves pushing your head down on his length, watching you gag and choke around his thick cock as you struggle to take him in. he enjoys eating you out but also face-fucking you, although not as much as the former. his grip on your hair tightens as he gets closer to coming, your saliva and his precum mixing before he buries his cock in your mouth, cum spilling down your throat. he will definitely pull out if you don't like the stretch.

p : pace

gallagher has such a rough pace that it's intoxicating. his hips slam into yours so heavily, you can feel his whole body with the way he thrusts inside of you. he's not slow too, you wonder how he does it. each thrust fills your insides with vigor, groans coming from his mouth. his hips fasten as he comes close to finishing, and that takes quite the long time, the sensation overwhelming.

q : quickie

gallagher absolutely enjoys quickies and no one can convince me otherwise. he thinks they're just so useful for getting one out of his system with the load of his work. though most of the time, he prefers having his time with you.

r : risk

gallagher is probably open with taking risks when it comes to sex. anything you wanna try, he's alright with it- truly a gentleman.

s : stamina

gallagher can go on for multiple rounds on end. you don't know how he does it, he just cums and cums and cums until there's nothing left in his balls, yet it repeats all over the next day! his stamina is probably one of the highest of the star rail men.

t : toys

gallagher can use anything that makes the act more pleasurable for the both of you. it's usually him asking you to try out some new toy he got from who knows where.

u : unfair

gallagher is such a bully. he does nothing but to tease you and rile you up, he just can't shut up for one second! he makes fun of how you're so easily crumbled, how you must have no shame with the way you beg for his cock, how you turn into mush the moment you take his tip. he says all of those with a stupid smirk on his face that only widens when you scold him for it. he enjoys seeing you get teased and all shy so quickly. you want to bite him, punch his face as he keeps not shutting the hell up, his large palm coming down to slap your rear from behind as he laughs at you. 'what's that? oh? you think i'm too mean, miss? how cute, you know you love it.'

v : volume

gallagher is not the most vocal during sex but definitely not quiet. he's more of the groaner and grunter type instead of moaning. you can still make him moan, though, just ride him with your hands tight around his throat and listen to him singing.

w : wild card

gallagher likes how painful it is to have a boner. he leaves his pants on for the sole purpose of feeling his dick stretch against the fabric, begging for release. it hurts so much yet he loves the feeling, cockhead too sensitive and weeping by the time he frees it. he likes it when you sit on it, not putting it inside you but just sitting on it, forcing it to cower as you rub yourself along his length. likes it when you squeeze the shaft so tight that he can't help but curse. gallagher loves the pain if it's because of you.

x : x-ray

gallagher has the biggest or second biggest cock in all of star rail. he's just sooo large, longer and has so much more girth than average. it's a tan color fading into a furious red in the tip. it's so easy to get precum oozing out of it. definitely has thick veins sticking out here and there that you can feel inside of you. he knows how big he is yet he acts like he doesn't.

y : yearning

gallagher doesn't need to have sex that much but definitely wants to. it's okay if you don't want to, he can just rub one out if it's so urgent and nothing if it's not. likes to do it with you almost every day to every other night.

z : zzz

gallagher probably has problems sleeping, i mean, have you seen this man? so when it's night and you're in your home, it's when he falls sleep the most easily. he doesn't want to let you go, his big arms wrapped around your body as he pulls you into his chest, spooning you as if he was a little kid and you were his favorite toy to sleep with.

reqs are open !

i mainly write for jjk, hsr and genshin ✩

#gallagher x you #hsr gallagher x reader #gallagher x reader #hsr smut #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail gallagher #honkai star rail #hsr gallagher #hsr x reader #hsr #gallagher smut #honkai star rail smut #gallagher hsr #gallagher hsr x reader