#the urge to make a 'lets never talk about this again' joke but there is no nobility in suffering

[sunkissed-zegras]

𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐕𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐓 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐄, 𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 ─ NK¹⁰

౨ৎ ─ summary | nika calls her girlfriend while they're at an away game, only to be teased by her team (and nika, of course). REQUESTED! -> "MOREEE NIKAAA PLSSSS UR SO GOOD"

─ word count | 685

─ warnings | nothing but sweetness, fluff and some teasing!

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

"YOU SHOULD'VE JUST SLAPPED HER," NIKA'S voice rung from your phone speaker as you laughed, rolling your eyes.

"Oh trust me, I wanted to." You joked as you leaned back into your bed, a tired yawn escaping your lips. Nika was at an away game and per usual ─ Nika had to call you and talk to you.

Even if it was only a couple days away from each other, she needed to hear your voice because the one time she didn't call you at an away game ─ they lost, badly. And of course because she misses your sexy voice.

The sound of her laughter echoed through the phone, a comforting melody that soothed your tired mind. "If I was there, I woulda slapped her for you."

"I know you would have, baby." You rolled your eyes as you playfully replied, the fondness evident in your tone. "But then we'd both be in trouble, and who would cheer for you at your next game?"

Nika chuckled, the sound music to your ears. "Good point. Can't have my lucky charm getting banned from the arena, we'd never make it to playoffs."

You smiled, imagining Nika's smirk on the other end of the line. "Exactly. Besides," you added, "I wouldn't want to miss cheering you on. You know I'm your number one fan."

Nika's laughter bubbled over again, warming your heart even more. "Damn right you are. I'd be lost without you there, cheering me on with that sexy voice of yours."

You couldn't help but blush at her compliment, feeling a rush of affection for her. "Well, I'll make sure to save my best cheers for you."

"That's all I ask," Nika replied, her voice softening. "Just knowing you're there, rooting for me, means everything."

Before you could respond, you heard a bunch of voices laughing in the background teasing her. You could only guess that it's her teammates, a smile playing on her lips.

"Oh shut up, you guys are all jealous 'cus you don't have a hot girlfriend cheering you on!" Nika called out to her teammates, her tone playful yet teasing.

The voices in the background only grew louder, confirming your suspicions. It seemed like Nika's teammates enjoyed teasing her about her softness for you, but you knew it was all in good fun.

"I swear, you guys are worse than a bunch of gossiping high schoolers," Nika exclaimed, her laughter mixing with the banter of her teammates.

"Sounds like you're having fun over there," you remarked, amusement evident in your voice. "Tell them I said hi. And that they better treat my girl right, or they'll have to answer to me."

Nika laughed, her voice amused as some of the girls began laughing as well. "Don't worry, babe. They know better than to mess with you."

"Why are you laughing? You don't think I'm intimidating, Nika?" You mocked hurt as you scoffed, swallowing the urge to join in the laugher as you pushed the blanket to your shoulders.

Nika's laughter only intensified at your mock hurt, her voice laced with amusement. "Oh, believe me, babe, you're the most intimidating person I know. I'm shaking in my boots over here."

"Oh shut up, you've been hanging too much with Paige. She's rubbing off on you, shaking in your boots?" You repeated, playfully scoffing.

"Hey, don't blame Paige for my awesome sense of humor," Nika retorted, her laughter still audible in the background. "Besides, a little boot-shaking never hurt anyone."

You couldn't help but laugh at Nika's comeback, her wit as sharp as ever. "Fine, fine, I'll let it slide this time. But don't think you're off the hook for teasing me."

Nika's laughter gradually subsided, replaced by a softer, more affectionate tone. "Wouldn't dream of it, baby. You know I love teasing you almost as much as I love you."

Your heart fluttered at her words, a warmth spreading through you at the reminder of her affection. "Almost, huh? Well, I'll take what I can get."

"Good," Nika replied, her voice gentle. "Because you've got all of me, now and forever."

↳ 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 #uconn #uconn wbb #women's college basketball #ncaaw #nika muhl x reader #nika muhl imagine #nika mühl #nika muhl #uconn huskies #uconn women’s basketball

[luvvyouforever]

exclusively yours - sdv harvey x reader!

-> synopsis: harvey realizes some things about himself and one of those is that he can't stand it when other people look at what's his.

-> warning: NSFW MDNI MDNI MDNI SMUT! jealous harvey mhm. a touch of dom harvey what can i say. slight shane slander nothing too mean. a bit wordy. you've been warned.

-> a/n: i hope you all enjoy! i wrote this whenever i had time free over the course of a week when i should be doing homework.

there's a rare fire in his eyes that night at the stardrop saloon. he's not sure what it is that he's feeling in the pit of his stomach, but he knows for certain that he doesn't like the way shane's eyes rake over your flower dance dress that you had been wearing since this morning when you danced with the doctor, and not shane.

he's reminding himself of the ring on your finger, the farm that you live in together, the bouquets you've gifted him, the necklace that took ages to procure because the weather had to be just right. and yet, none of that is easing the jealousy threatening to bubble up over the surface.

the lust in shane's gaze becomes even more apparent as the crowd dwindles. he's talking to you and harvey can barely make out the words coming out of his mouth, but then there's a touch to your elbow that was well-timed to come after a joke you just made, and now harvey is striding over, wrapping a tight arm around your shoulders to stare at shane.

"what was so funny?" he asks and the interested inflection in his tone is entirely fake. "i know my wife has such a keen sense of humor, doesn't she?" you don't miss the emphasis he puts on 'wife.'

shane's grown awkward now, and he shifts hsi weight from one foot to the next. he's been caught and there's nothing much he can do to salvage this situation. "yeah, uh, she just made a joke about summer. nothing serious. sorry," he stumbles out.

"mhm, yeah. so, we'll see you around?" harvey says which effectively ends the conversation and forces shane back into the booth he was originally sitting down in. with a breath of relaxation, he turns to you with a different kind of fire in his eyes. one that makes you shiver with palpable excitement. "ready to go home?"

you nod and his hand moves from your shoulder down to the small of your back to give you just a slight push away from prying eyes and out the door of the saloon.

neither of you speak on the way home and it feels like even the nature around you is holding its breath in anticipation of what will happen when the door to your farmhouse swings open. the farmhouse becomes visible in the distance and there's a sudden weakness in your legs. subconciously, both you and harvey pick up speed until you find yourself speed-walking to the front door.

he wastes no time in pulling keys from his pocket and unlocking the door and, ever the gentleman, letting you go in first.

once he shuts the door behind him, his hand immediately finds the small of your back again and you feel your body inch closer to the bedroom. anticipation grows and grows until your back is leaning against the doorframe of the bedroom and harvey's stature is looming over yours.

this is new, this is unexplored, this is uncharted territory. harvey had never once been anything other than unadulterated sweetness in the bedroom. he cared about your pleasure, your comfort, and your enjoyment more than anything. but now there was something calling to him to give into this urge building in the pit of his stomach.

harvey's hand crawls from its position by his side, up the curves of your stomach, then stops at the base of your head. a soft gesture tilts your chin upwards so you're looking directly into his brown eyes. you feel small underneath his intense gaze, but it's certainly not a bad feeling.

"you know," he begins with a breath, "i've never considered myself a jealous person." you bite your lip in anticipation, feeling warmth grow from your core and radiate outwards. "but...the way shane was looking at you tonight...i think we just need a small reminder about who you belong with."

there was so much intensity behind his words despite them coming out in a soft drawl. you could have buckled right there on the doorframe but his body was caging you in so that there was no way you'd fall.

with a breath and a swallow, your hand travels from your side to his waist. "then remind me," you tease.

harvey's eyes darken and something about this excited you to no end. his strong hands bring you close to his chest and his lips hurriedly meet yours. they intertwine in a mess, teeth clashing, tongues bumping, but it sets your entire body alight. with ease, harvey inches you away from the doorframe and to the bed where you fall down onto the soft mattress. the white dress on your body falls around your waist, revealing the underwear you had on.

then, harvey growled. like truly, really growled as if something had took over him in these few seconds. he had been suppressing this urge to be with you intensely for fear of hurting you or embarrassing himself. but he's spurred on by your moans and the heat he feels radiating from between your legs.

after making out so roughly that your lips are left feeling numb, harvey's hands travel down your body, stopping at the hem of your underwear. with a strong tug, he pulls you to the edge of the bed and sits on his knees in front of you. he'd regret placing so much pressure on his aging knees in the morning, but that didn't matter now. what mattered now was making you cum to the point that you are unable to think of another man but him.

without much warning, harvey's mouth met your core. you threw your head back to the bed, letting out a moan that made you glad you lived so far from any other person. he was like a man possessed, seeking some salvation in the wetness growing and growing in between your legs.

he pulled away, but not for long as his fingers gripped the hem of your underwear and slid them down your thighs, calfs, and off your feet. for a second, he sat on his knees, marveling at your pleasure and whispered, "you must really like this, huh?"

his voice was laced with lust and darkness. before you could even respond, his mouth met your middle again and every part of your body lurched forward, in awe of the pleasure he was giving you. there was a coil in the pit of your stomach that was growing, wounding around itself, tightening with every stroke of harvey's tongue against you.

"harv! fuck!" you managed to choke out. you could feel his lips tilt upward in a smile, and just when you thought there was no possible way it could get better than this, his finger teased at your hole before plunging in. harvey's anatomical knowledge guided his finger upward, curling up to the spot that sends you reeling.

his name was a prayer on your lips as that coil tightened till the point you think it might snap. you could no longer hold it when harvey added in a second finger, curling both upwards and creating a pressure that pulled the coil till it all fell apart. you were a mess, hair sprawled on the comforter, dress halfway up your body, wetness dripping from harvey's fingers.

he leans back on his knees, eyes blown wide with lust. his lips glisten and his carefully groomed hair and mustache are destroyed. he's breathing heavily, but he didn't stop his frenzy there. with rushed movements, he tugs off his tie, his button down, his undershirt till there was nothing adorning his body.

"need this off," he mumbles, pulling at the hem of your dress. you come out of your daze to rise up and slide the dress off your body. "jesus...," he whispers. he rises from his spot on the floor and gestures for you to scoot up to the bed. slowly, his body comes over yours and once again you become caged in his grip and his scent. "do i tell you that you're beautiful enough? because if i don't i need some sense slapped into me."

heat floods in your cheeks at his words. harvey, ever the kind gentleman, was a whole other person entirely. for a second, you wonder if you could tease more possessiveness out of him. he was already delirious with pleasure. what could a little more hurt?

"i'm glad you think so too, dr. harvey. shane really thinks i'm the best looking person in this whole town," you say with a smirk tilting your lips upward.

that fire reignites in his eyes again. in seconds, his hands come to your wrists and you feel pinned against the bed. his chest is rising and falling with intensity.

"if i hear another man's name on your lips tonight, you're getting it," he threatens.

and, because you can, you push him further. "shane. alex. sam. sebastian. lew-"

in a renewed sense of dominance, harvey clamps his hand over your mouth, effectively cutting you off. "i don't think you'll be able to talk when i'm done with you," he says, voice just slightly above a whisper.

"prove it," you whisper back.

harvey smiles with something sinister lurking beneath the service. he stands from the bed, eyes never leaving yours and tugs off his belt, then his pants. with no flourish, his length comes out, irresistibly hard from the night's activities. he climbs back on top of you, settling his center in front of yours. he's barely touching your core but it's sending you arching upwards.

"i don't think shane could manage making you feel this good, you know?" he teases your entrance. "i mean, if you'd like to try, go ahead, but you'll come back to me crying because he can't make you cum like this." slowly, he slides himself in. you let out an unearthly moan that is met with his own grunts. "you're all mine. no one else's." he fully enters you then, hitting as far back as he could manage.

he drags himself out, then slowly enters back in. it's torturous. horrible. so awfully frustrating.

"please, harv. more!" you beg. he kept up his slow pace, barely budging. "need you more." you sound just as pathetic as you feel.

"can shane make you feel this good?" he asks.

so that's what he wanted from you. "no!" you plead.

"are you all mine, then?"

"yes, all yours!"

"exclusively mine?"

"exclusively yours!"

at those final words, harvey fucks into you again with a quicker, rougher pace. this was what you needed more than air. your hands fly to his arms where your nails dig into the skin there. he would wake up with marks that remind him of the night, but maybe that was your purpose in doing so.

harvey is stretching you out in the most perfect of ways and the closeness of his body to yours sends shivers all over you. his hands are desperately clinging to every part of your exposed skin and his chest rises quickly in attempts to catch his breath. nothing could stop him from his actions right now. all he can focus on is the way you feel so tight around him, the way you're moaning his name, and the way he has to hold in his orgasm until you've came all over him.

which isn't too far away. it's building with every deep, powerful thrust he makes. he's hitting spots inside of you that he hadn't before. it's blissful, filthy, and perfect. in the middle of your ecstacy, you make a note to draw out harvey's jealous side more.

"fuck," he grunts out. it's so strange to hear such filthy language coming from your husband who balked any time you said swear words. "you're so fucking tight for me, huh?"

his dirty words pull out a loud moan from you which seemed to spur harvey on even further. his thrusts lost their rhythm and his breath became rapid. he was close and so were you. with urgent moves, you wrap your legs around his waist which sends his length inside of you as deep as it can go. your eyes meet with a silent agreement.

your moans mingle together, filling the room with lewd noises. your name is repeated over and over again until the moment you both feel that release toppling over the edge, filling your bodies head to toe with pure bliss. his body doesn't still, but instead he returns to the slow pace he began with, pumping his cum deep inside you.

after some breaths and stilled movements, he pulls out with a slick noise and falls to your side. his arms open up in a silent request for you to lay on his chest and you oblige. the bed is destroyed, your bodies are sweaty, and there's certainly something leaking out of you onto the sheets. but sheets can be washed, beds can be made, and showers can be had.

all that matters is that you were exclusively his, and shane could never make you feel like that.

#stardew valley x reader #harvey one shot #stardew valley #stardew valley fanfic #harvey #harvey x reader #harvey imagine #sdv harvey #sdv harvey smut #stardew valley smut #harvey smut

[ahollowgrave]

.

thank you to everyone who left a nice comment or DM'd me or whatever yesterday I didn't reply because I get very embarrassed when people show me compassion when I very clearly need it. But I read each one and saved them for next time and I am blowing you kisses and avoiding eye contact, you understand. depression is a known liar and you can't trust her. she is very convincing, however, and so when it gets to you please know I am there holding your hand.

#ooc #sometimes you scream into the void and people scream back that you aren't alone and you're just so shocked that you crawl into a hole #anyway #venting #depression/pmdd double whammy of 'i've never formed a meaningful connection and never will because of *me*' woof #ANYWAY I'M FINE AGAIN #the urge to make a 'lets never talk about this again' joke but there is no nobility in suffering #and i think posting on sm like we sometimes do is an ask for help and there is never shame in asking for help however you need too imo #sometimes the ask is 'please reassure me i'm not just a blank space on the wall' #(but also lets never talk of this again) #<- jokey joke see I'm fine #got some shitty news about the cost of a surgery one of our cats needs but that's ok we'll make it through #everyone say goodbye to all of al's teeth

[nonranghaes]

heads up: mentions of wearing contacts

seungcheol is standing outside of the bathroom when you step out, arms folded across his chest. "who hurt you and what did they say."

it isn't a question, and you're already confused by how suddenly imposing he's become. you sniffle again though the tears are long gone, and he gives you a pointed look--as though your crying gives you away.

"mingyu said you left crying," he says. "who do i need to talk to?"

he's always been protective of you, standing up for you when you're too anxious to do it. but you're still confused. "cheollie, what are you talking about?"

something about him melts a little when you call him cheollie, but he takes a deep breath, squaring back up. he's not cheollie, not when he thinks something is wrong enough that you cry, and you see the way he pushes back on the urge to become all soft and tender with you. "mingyu said you were talking with jeonghan and the others when suddenly you started crying and ran out of the room."

what was he...? oh! the realization hits you all at once, and you almost laugh. "no one hurt me, cheollie."

"i know they can go a little far with their jokes sometimes," he starts to say, taking your face into his hands, "all you have to do is tell them to stop--or tell me, and i can tell them--"

"my contact slipped," you say, resting your hands over his own. "it hurt, so i teared up and booked it to the bathroom so i could fix it."

he stops entirely for a moment, staring at you. a moment later, he's just quiet as he lets out an "... oh." yet when you snort in laughter, he's already pouting. "i was worried about you! are you going to make fun of me for being worried?!"

"a little," you lean in to kiss the corner of his mouth, still giggling as you walk away from him. "gonna tell the others you're so protective you're gonna fight my contacts--"

seungcheol gasps as he rushes after you. "don't--they'll never let me live it down!"

"that's the point!"

#nonranghaes.thoughts #nonranghaes.svt #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagine #svt x reader #svt imagine #seventeen x you #svt x you #s coups x reader #s coups x you #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol x you #choi seungcheol x reader #choi seungcheol x you #i like to imagine jeonghan n joshua watched cheol leave after gyu told him and they were like oh this will be fun lmao

[tbko111]

Wolf in Sheep's Clothing

⊱ contents: yuta x fem reader, smut, noncon/dubcon, yandere, delusion, obsession, masturbation, stalking, virginity loss, mind break, creampie, manipulation, ⊱ wc: 2.6k ⊱ synopsis: There was just something about your friend Yuta that slowly urged you to let your guard down. Maybe it was his gentle nature, or his softspoken voice. Either way, you trusted him into your dorm room.

Yuta has spent years of his life shying away from intimacy. Inevitably he has masturbated at times, but was never big on it. Once he entered high school – festering with amorous teenagers, he still didn’t give it much mind.

That was until he met you.

It started off small. Being quiet, people would find you hard to approach, but Yuta felt otherwise.

"You dropped this." you muttered, holding out an eraser. Yuta blinked for a moment, surprised to hear your voice for the first time. It was like honey – easy on the ears. It even made him wonder why you don’t talk more.

"Oh, thank you." he smiled.

You awkwardly smiled back. It was his first time getting a clear look at you, and he thought about it for the rest of the day. He only thought you were kind of pretty, nothing more. Or so he told himself; he was too convinced he wouldn't find love again.

But the two of you surprisingly shared a lot in common, easing into conversations over time. It started as a normal friendship, but love waits for no one, and he couldn't help but start to admire your every detail. Your every move, every habit, every word… so thoughtful and reserved. It was tantalizing. Only to this point you felt similarly, thinking he was intimidating at first but putting your guard down at his unexpectedly sweet and sensitive personality.

It was spring, just the right amount of breezy and students abustle over the romance in the air. You had known Yuta for quite some time now, being comfortable enough to give gifts - albeit not too forward.

After school, you remain seated as your classmates race eachother to the exit. Yuta takes note of this and stays back as well.

"Are you not going?"

You fidget, then reach into your bag.

"Here, you can have this." you held out a small box of cookies. Adorned with small flowers to complement the season. He stared for a moment before accepting it.

"You remembered my birthday?" Yuta beamed, touched. 

"Um... I just made too much yesterday." you chuckle, not daring to make eye contact. But he knew it was no coincidence. It was singlehandedly the best cookies he's had in his life, and he later lost sleep recalling your abashed face.

The more he got to know you, the stronger his feelings got. He wanted to know more. To feel more. You would only offer small joking pokes, or touch him accidentally which were always followed by apologies. He would calm his beating heart secretly wishing you wouldn't pull back all the time.

In the dead of summer, the two of you sat in front of a convenience store. Licking your ice cream carefully, you looked to the side to see Yuta blush and turn away. You suddenly grow embarrassed of the display, and cover your mouth.

"You want some too? I have change." you glance at him gingerly, trying to ease the air.

"What? Oh. No, I'm fine." Yuta lets air in through his collar, quickly looking away again. Something tells you he's not this worked up from the weather.

That night he touched himself for the first time in ages.

"Hahh... Y/n... Y/n... Y/n..." 

Yuta mumbles to himself, twitching at his own touch. He rubs his length up and down with thoughts of you playing in his head like a movie. Your gaze, your voice, your everything, how you'd look so pretty with your lips wrapped around his cock, and how you'd look when he finally gets to fuck you and see your face melt into a pleasured mess, all for him.

"Fuck..." he inhales, climaxing at the thought.

Eventually, unable to get his mind off of you, he would steal small belongings as mementos of you, even touching himself with your handkerchief. It felt like a crime. This is wrong. I'm sick. He tried to tell himself, but as if in withdrawal from a drug, he'd cave into ogling you at every chance. No girl has made him feel this way before.

Pleasure finally overtook his guilt over fantasizing such vile things. He'd follow you at night "Just to make sure you're safe", and always keep an eye on you. He didn't have to worry about seeming creepy to you; he was all too good at putting up a front. To the point you only ever saw him as a kind friend, nothing more.

You've grown a soft spot for him and he didn't mind taking advantage of it. Yuta had always been nothing short of generous, but even he had his limits. Especially when it came to such an insatiable need.

By the time you trusted him, your every kind gesture became an indicator that you must like him back, justifying everything under that pretense.

It was winter before you knew it – roughly a year since you've met Yuta. You offered to do homework at your dorm room, and his pulse nearly stopped at the suggestion. He tried to sound casual, agreeing a little too quick.

"Come in, there's not much to see, but..." you welcome him in, taking off your shoes. He breathes in, almost going lightheaded from how your scent surrounds him.

You take off your coat, then your school blazer, the dress shirt framing your figure with more definition making him gulp and turn away.

Unloading your things and settling down, you help eachother with questions within the warmth of your room. There's about an hour of silent working – though it takes everything in Yuta to focus, until you stretch and groan complaining about the workload. One joke here and there turns into full procrastination as the two of you laugh quietly at trivial conversations.

At one point, you gently slap him on the arm, snapping what remained of his self-restraint. The giggles die down, and coming to your senses you find Yuta eyeing you shyly.

"Y/n..."

"Hm?"

The room is falling dark. You hadn't bothered to turn on the lights, and the daylight was beginning to fade away.

He leans in, making you pull away just slightly. But he won't let you do that this time. You were so cute that rational thought was flying out the window. All he knew was that you both wanted this.

He swallows, then snakes his hand up the back of your head, leaning in until your lips meet. For a moment you’re resistless, frozen in shock. Soon you’re quick to push him away, feeling your face burning up.

“Wait, Yuta, I didn't know y-”

Yuta finds your shocked face cute, but soon grows impatient and coaxes you back with a groan. He might just die if he keeps his hands off for any longer.

"If you really don’t want it, you can bite my tongue." he breathes, not even giving you room to respond. He knows you wouldn't, anyway.

He starts off with a small kiss. Running one hand down your arm with the other caressing the side of your head. You gasp, allowing him to slide his tongue in – desperate to taste you. The wet sounds make your head reel, but of course you don't bite. Despite being reluctant, you can't bring yourself to hurt him. You only groan softly, and feel Yuta purr into you like he’s in heaven.

He keeps you in place with an alarming amount of authority. The kiss grows hot and sloppy. It’s hard to think as he lifts you with surprising ease and lays you on your bed - conveniently close to your floor desk due to lack of space. He finds his way atop of you, one knee resting comfortably between your legs. You try to push away for air, and he lets you, only to start kissing your neck and down.

“Ah… Yuta, what-” your voice wobbles.

He shifts to loom over you completely, breathing erratic and needy. He continues to leave marks, feeling your body as if dying to memorize it by touch. Despite every alarm in your head going off, you don't want to believe that Yuta is a threat.

The affirmation is cut short when you jolt at the feeling of him unbuttoning your top.

“W- Wait!”

Yuta had held back for too long. He's been nothing but good to you. He deserved this – you deserved this. Having none of you was endurable, but just a taste was never going to be enough. All he got from your protests was that you were just shy. How cute.

“I’m sorry, I need you. I’ll make you feel good, I promise…” he’s murmuring, telling himself that more than anything.

He opens your shirt delicately, revealing your bra, and your arms fly up to cover yourself.

He steadily casts them aside to awe at your figure. His gaze lingers for uncomfortably long with bated breath.

“You’re so…” he trails off, lovestruck.

Your eyes meet his, and you can't help but look away. You've never let anyone see you so vulnerable before. He dips his head down to continue tasting your neck, and you feel him fumble to remove your bra. You tug at his clothes in place of asking him to stop, but it only tempts him more.

He finally removes it and puts it aside, shaking slightly at the sensation of your bare breast. Starting off with just his fingertips, he grows greedy and kneads them, carefully, as if you’re made out of glass. He’s nice as always – misleadingly so. You groan and pull your legs together as he teases your nipple, and grabbing his wrist with your weakened arms proves useless. 

His hand travels down your body, each touch torturously tender.

A finger hooks on your now semi-unzipped skirt and stockings, undressing you like you're a precious gift. Yuta timidly runs his fingers over your panties, a grin creeping on his face at the dampness.

You feel your heart drop as you sense him undoing his pants. You look down with wide eyes to see him pull out his length. Being inexperienced, just the thought of that entering sent a foreboding chill down your spine.

“No...” You're too scared to even raise your voice.

Yuta sighs shakily, face flushed.

“Stop being such a tease. You’re killing me…”

His rough yet pretty hand pulls down your garments slowly, making you attempt to draw your thighs together at the sudden airflow.

He lines himself up to your entrance, and you curse yourself for being wet. You try to shrink back, but gasp when he holds you by the waist, lifting you slightly for better access. His tip pokes your slit, making you shudder and stifle a sob. Even now, you can’t bring yourself to slap him, or scream.

Yuta isn’t a bad person.

You shake your head, hands firm on his arms to no avail.

He marvels at the sight, in a trance.

“I’ll be gentle.”

“No, Yuta, don’t-!”

You cut yourself off with a guttural shriek as he forces himself in, inch by inch. You gasp for air as you claw at your sheets fruitlessly.

He takes a moment to settle, groaning as your muscles contract frantically.

“Ahh… oh, god, you feel even better than I thought…” Yuta tilts his head back, screwing his eyes shut in bliss.

To your dismay his cock goes even deeper, until you can feel him in your stomach. You gasp for air, moaning pathetically as every nerve screams for help.

"Mngh, no, i- it hurts-"

Yuta groans, getting even more turned on.

The pretty sight of you twitching around him alone threatened to make him cum right then and there.

"It's okay. I'll go slow..."

He starts moving, painstakingly slow. Somehow, him being so gentle is worse than being forceful. You’re left with no choice but to fully suffer through every little sensation.

Even as he goes at a leisurely pace, you can't help but fight back tears. It's also torturous for him, but for different reasons. He cares about you too much to fuck you as brutally as he'd like.

There are only timid movements for a long while, until he gradually picks up speed, and your legs are on the verge of giving up already.

"You're so pretty." He mumbles.

You cover your face, unable to answer. Your lip is bitten to suppress shameful noises, but the crude fill in your stomach makes your jaw weaken.

Your mouth hangs open, and soon the room fills with lewd noises as he continues to shower you with affection. He babbles barely coherent compliments, kissing your neck. He winces slightly at your tightness, clenching around him with all your life.

“Relax for me.”

You sputter into your arms. You're a moaning, flinchy mess and your legs shake like a leaf as he loses himself in you – slowly going faster and harder.

"...Let me see your face."

You groan, unrelenting, but the way his eyes bore into you has you complying meekly. He leers, pleased with the display.

"Look at you… you love me. You take me so well."

His familiar smile almost convinces you that nothing is wrong.

"Say it. I wanna hear it from you."

He bucks his hips in deep, going almost fully in and out, earning violent twitches followed by helpless moans. It's music to his ears.

As you very slowly ease into the feeling, what remained of your fighting spirit diminishes as his cock fills you just too right, involuntarily arching your back. Your sounds grow more harmonic as euphoria washes over your body.

He whispers breathily, pleading so weakly in spite of the power he has over you.

"Please?"

"I love you..." you drawl, barely words at all. Your once pained face is now melted in pleasure; pupils blown and eyes barely open.

Yuta smiles, sickly sweet.

"Good girl, I love you too. I love you so much. I'm yours..."

His dark eyes make you shudder as he looks at you - looking almost coy as if having his nervous first kiss and not fucking you into your own bed. You feel high as he continues to thrust into you using your waist as a handle. His kind voice and affectionate teasing with his thumbs contrasts all else.

Feeling every sense overstimulate, sinful moans freely escaping your mouth, you weakly reach out to hold him.

"Ahh, Yu..."

“You feel so good, I- fuck,”

Yuta curses under his breath – you never even thought he was capable. But neither did you of this whole situation.

You're no longer in control of what kind of vulgar face you may make. You feel burning ecstasy build up inside, until you’re dangerously close.

"Mngh- Yuta...! I can't, I..."

"Shh, I got you." 

His sweet voice hypnotizes you to relax, not even letting you register the gravity of him cumming inside. His breath hitches harshly and the grip on your waist tightens, as if to say you're not going anywhere.

Your eyes roll back, feeling him paint your walls white. You feel his cock so clearly, you're convinced you've memorized its shape. Your body shudders in pleasure and in that moment, you truly are convinced he's the love of your life.

“Ah… mmn… ugh,”

You lay twitching in place, small moans emitting as you breathe. You can hardly even remember where you are.

He stays inside for moments longer, savoring the moment. You tighten instinctively as he pulls out slowly with a cute smile plastered on his face.

“You’re amazing.'' He's breathless, either from the sex or breathtaken by you alone. He kisses you, stroking your hair lovingly.

And you can’t help but kiss back.

♡ ao3

#jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen drabbles #jujutsu kaisen imagine #yuta okkotsu x reader #yuta okkotsu smut #yuta okkotsu x you #yuta headcanons #okkotsu yuta x reader #jjk imagines #jjk fanfic #jjk x you #yuuta smut #yandere yuta

[patrophthia]

hii! I really loved your stories! can you write something about theo×hufflepuff again? I don't have any preferences, whathever comes to you mind (well maybee some enemies/don't like each other at the begging haha) thank u))

wanted to do rivals to lovers but i failed, like really badly so here’s just fluff with theo envying reader a teensy bit

make it make sense | theodore nott

pairing: theodore nott x reader

genre: fluff, meet cute, established relationships, tasm reference (just cuz)

part of my 1k celebration event !

You and Theodore makes no sense. Not to your friends, not to his friends, not to anyone —Merlin, not even yourselves. 

How the two of you got today is and will always be a story Theodore could never wrap his head around. 

At first glance, the two of you are direct opposites. A Hufflepuff and a Slytherin made absolutely no sense at first sight. And it’s exactly what he thought when his feelings towards you —which were, at first, resentment and envy (you were doing better in classes than he was and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t bother him) turns to fascination, and maybe even adoration. 

Not in a weird way, of course. Not in a way where he’d stare at you from across the room where you’re sitting, chatting with your friends with a pretty on your face before accidentally meeting his eyes and making him avert his gaze kind of way. Or well —maybe it was. You were beautiful, can you blame him?

Not only were you beautiful, you were also kind. So incredibly kind, hardworking, and your sense of justice is so strong you knocked him off his feet. Literally. 

The first time he talked to you —really talked to you— was when you body slammed him to the ground whilst chasing someone who’d had picked on your friend. It sounds cliche and sometimes, when he feels an overwhelming urge to kiss you; he deflects it by joking about how you ‘fell’ for him. 

You were quick to pick yourself up off of him, eyes wide as you helped him back to his feet with repetitive apologies. “I’m sorry, I really should’ve looked where I was going but I was so worried that he’d get away (and he did) that I bumped into you.

Are you okay though? Should I bring you to the infirmary? What’s your name? How many fingers am I holding up?” 

Theodore fixes his attention on you. “I’m fine, let’s not bother Madam Pomfrey about this,” he says first, then he glances between you and your fingers, eyes glinting with ridicule, “Zero.” 

He’s messing with you. That’s . . . A relief. Unless he actually couldn’t tell that you’re holding up fo—

“Four,” he tells you anyways, he then adds. “Nott.” 

“What?” 

“My names Nott.” He tells you. 

And you smile at him. You’re kind enough to smile at him even when he’s coming off as a bit of an arse to you, you still smile at him. “Oh I know,” you say, “just wanted to make sure you knew it too.” 

He blinks at you. Slowly. So slow that it almost resembles a cat’s blinking. “Well, I do.” 

“Good.” He’s still looking at you. And you’re still looking at him. Neither of you wanting to go back to your separate lives just yet. “Are you seeing anyone?” 

Theodore wills himself to not show any real reaction to your words, only keeping stoic as he answers. “I’m not,” he says, “are you asking to make sure I knew it too?” 

“No.” You shake your head. “I just wanted to know.” 

And you leave. So suddenly that Theodore has to stare at your leaving figure for a good three minutes before finally pulling himself back together. 

So maybe the two of you made no sense being with one another, but it’s been like that from the start —how you left him standing there will forever be a core memory for him— and he’s more than just content to be in love with you now. And if he’s being honest, does things making sense matter when you’re in love? 

Not in his books. 

#oh yeah cuties Peter and Theodore i love me my losers #theodore nott x you #theodore nott scenarios #theodore nott imagines #theodore nott fanfiction #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x reader #🧳: my writing #🍰: 1k with patro!

[sherlockscumslut]

☆Genshin men and how they behave under the mistletoe ☆

Ft. Kaeya, Diluc, Zhongli, Childe, Itto, Thoma, Ayato, Alhaitham, Cyno, Neuvillette and Wriothesley.

18+ only. Contains smut, sexual innuendos, fluff & crack. Kisses duh, sweet talk, praise, fingering, oral(f&m.receiving), facial, creampies, bad jokes, possible grammar mistakes.

A/n: Have you been naughty or nice this year? 😏 As for me, I guess it's hard to tell bc Wriothesley came home. Did he come to punish me for breaking the law or perhaps, to teach me some...wrestling techniques? 🤭

My AO3

Follow my backup @itsdebby

°☆•☆°•☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•☆•

Finds the opportunity to give you a passionate kiss and whisper something naughty in your ear

The mistletoe hangs on your bedroom's door and every once in a while, even when you're on the phone with friends and family, he sneaks out of nowhere and hugs you from behind. His puts his strong arms around your waist and his head nest on your shoulder. "Oops! I think you walked under the mistletoe again, sweetheart." He says in the sweetest tone and gives you soft neck kisses that never fail to make you melt. "I can't wait until I'm all over you tonight~" He murmurs.

KAEYA, Ayato, Childe, Wriothesley

Tells you something random about his current hyperfixation and turns it into a never ending session of him talking about it.

"Nice to see you here, again. I know we live in the same house but you just happened to walk under the mistletoe...What do you mean it's the 20th time today? Listen, I found out MORE information about [x] and I just wanna share it with you...Don't worry, dinner's one me!"

CYNO, Neuvillette, ITTO, Zhongli

Puts some music on and invites you to dance.

"Sweetheart, can I have this dance?" He offers his hand and you cling on him. He spins you around and kisses you softly on the lips. "You are the best gift I could ever ask for" He says smiling. His pretty eyes stare into your soul as he holds your hand and leans for another kiss.

KAEYA, Diluc, Thoma, Zhongli, Neuvillette

Is up for a quicky right here, right now.

You could be baking some cookies for the holidays but he doesn't care that you're busy. Since you walked under the mistletoe to get to the kitchen, he walks in there too and gives you a naughty grin. "You know...I also walked under the mistletoe on my way here...what do I mean? Well, how about I show you instead?" He lifts you up at the counter and starts teasing your clit with his hard cock. Soft moans escape his mouth and fights the urge to come right away. No, he won't let himself come so quickly. Not until he feels your tight pussy sucking him in and hear you beg him to fill you up. He never leaves you empty handed and after a few rough thrusts, he squeezes your hips as he comes inside. He's proud of lasting longer than he expected and had you to beg for his seed.

Childe, Wriothesley, Alhaitham, Kaeya

Praises you while you're gagging on his cock.

"Fuck, this is so good...keep going..." He whispers as you worship his cock with your mouth, licking every inch of him. You like to make him think that he's in control but little does he know about your secret technique that can make him burst at any moment. "You're always so good for me" He moans and holds a mistletoe over your head. "Hehe, this adds a little fun, doesn't it?" He starts twitching inside your throat and you pull his cock out of your mouth and tease his tip with your thumb. He groans as he comes on your face and his upper body goes limp."I could do this everyday" He murmurs.

ITTO, Kaeya, Childe, Cyno

Eats your pussy while you're reading a book or watching a Christmas movie in your bedroom.

Turns out it wasn't a bad idea to hang a mistletoe over the headboard. It was his idea but oh well, it benefits you too. You can barely concentrate on your book or movie. How could you when he's licking your clit back and forth and keeps adding one more finger inside you? He drinks your juices like water and his lips vibrate on your flesh as another moan escapes his mouth. Your hole clench on his fingers as you cream all over them. Your toes curl as a wave of satisfaction washes over your body. He looks at you with pure lust, panting while watching you come back to your senses.

Ayato, Wriothesley, Diluc, Cyno, Neuvillette

He still believes in Santa and stays up late to meet him so they can have a quick round of Genius Invocation TCG or beetle fight💀

Thoma, Itto, Cyno.

Cyno joke moment: You wanna know how we know Santa is a man? He shows up late, eats your cookie, empties his sack, comes only once, calls you a ho and leaves while you're sleeping.

《THE END》

! DO NOT REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANYWHERE WITHOUT MY PERMISSION!

#genshin smut #genshin kaeya #kaeya smut #diluc genshin impact #diluc smut #arataki itto #itto smut #genshin thoma #thoma smut #neuvilette genshin #neuvillette smut #wriothesley genshin #wriothesley smut #genshin alhaitham #alhaitham smut #cyno genshin impact #cyno smut #tartaglia #tartaglia smut #childe smut #kamisato ayato #ayato smut #zhongli smut #genshin zhongli

[ghouljams]

Sin Summer (Soap) Rating: E(MDNI) Word Count: 2.7k Tags: Soap x f!Reader, tinder au, oral (m and f!receiving), throat fucking, messy sex, masturbation, breath play, D/s dynamic, public play, spit play, piv sex, fingering, dirty talk, pussy slapping, meet and fuck, pwp, reader sleeps around and no one blames them Summary: Six days ago you were in Glasgow, it's really not a big deal. Part 2, Part 4

(Six days ago, Glasgow)

“Cannae say ya been to Scotland if ya don’ have a few tablets.” John tells you as you stare at the sort of caramel colored cube he handed you. He’s got a whole bag of them tucked in his pocket. You shrug and bite into the cube, it’s sweet, very sweet. Sweet enough to make your teeth hurt a little, so you pop the whole thing in your mouth and enjoy the way the sugar melts on your tongue. “Good yeah?�� You nod, and he passes you another.

So far this is one of your more tame tinder dates. You’re more of a late evening kind of adventurer, but John had insisted on taking you out proper. Something about making sure you were properly wooed before he started “in on you”. Makes you feel a little like you’re going to get murdered, but he assured you he’d lose his commission if he did anything that stupid. So here you are, being shown around town and treated to all sorts of goodies. Properly wooed.

This guy’s gotta be a freak. 

“So what’s the plan for tonight?” You ask, taking in the scenery of the city.

“Dinner, drinks” John hums, “chains, whips.”

“Seriously?” You laugh.

“Awright,” John laughs, “No chains an’ whips, I’ll stick with mah hands.” You bump your shoulder against him and he loops an arm around you.

“I’m all yours, as long as it’s fun.” You tell him, playing into his joke. You’re a sucker for a pretty face, always have been, and it makes your cheeks heat to meet those angel blue eyes and crooked smile. John tugs you a little closer against his side, squeezes you tight so it’s hard to walk. It makes you giggle, and lets you feel all the lovely muscle he’s hiding under his pull-over.

“Never had any complaints,” He brags, “but I won’t treat ya too rough.” You laugh when he presses a wet smacking kiss to your temple, pushing at his face to get him off. He lets you go only long enough to swat your ass, grabbing your hips and pulling you back against him as soon as you swear. The sting is perfect, not enough through your jeans, but promising.

“My safe word’s applesauce,” You joke. John’s low hum, his eyes lidding as he looks you over, makes you think he’s not joking.

“Practice it for me, pet,” He half orders, and your mouth goes dry. He pulls on dominance with just a roll of his shoulders. No shit this guy’s military, every inch of him commands respect. He grips your chin with his fingers when you take too long, moving your jaw for you. “Applesauce,” He coos, “say it.”

“Ap-” You clear your throat, resist the urge to lick your lips, “applesauce.”

“Stick out your tongue,” He tips your head back as you open your mouth and show him your tongue. Someone passes you on the street, their voice as they talk on their phone barely reaches you except to drop heat into the pit of your stomach. John spits on your tongue in the middle of a busy street and your skin blazes with heated shame. “Swallow,” His voice vibrates through you and settles with a burst between your legs, you close your mouth and swallow thickly, opening again to show him you’re empty. John smiles, tips your head one way then the other to inspect. “Good girl,” He coos, and you could melt right there.

“Maybe we skip dinner,” You mumble. John drags his thumb against your lips, leaning back to force you to lean more heavily against him. You don’t think you could even keep yourself standing if it weren’t for his firm grip.

His smile is blinding, you have to blink to keep your eyes focused on him, but his voice drips low like honey down your spine, “That’s what take-away’s for.”

-

“Be better if I had a proper leash,” John hums, looping his belt around your neck, “Doesn’t have the same yank to it.” He pulls the end of the leather hard, the thick metal buckle snapping tight against your neck. It’s a fun sort of pull towards him that makes you want to pull back, the squeeze around your neck evenly distributed across the leather to be only slightly uncomfortable. “Green pet?” He asks and you give a thumbs up.

“Green sir,” The words drag pleasantly against your tongue, been a while since you had anyone fun to play with, “Not my first time doing this.”

“Alright then, on your back, head over the edge.” John directs, nodding towards the bed. His grip on the belt loosens enough that you can pull the end from his fingers as you get settled. Normally you consider stripping part of the fun, but for now you’re thankful John had you get undressed before he started collaring you.

You tip your head back, arms on either side of you, fingers twisting into the sheets, and open your mouth. You know the drill. John laughs, and leans to grab his belt again. The dark leather in his tight fist is attractive, and the gentle pressure on your neck makes your head spin. Not choking you, not yet, but the threat is there. John unbuttons his pants tugging his cock free. Shower, you think. He’s big, but still only half hard. It doesn’t matter when he feeds you his cock, easing into your mouth as you lave your tongue against the head. You reach up with your hand to grip the base of his cock, and he pulls the belt tight. 

“No hands pet,” He warns, and you slide your hand up his stomach instead. Card your fingers through the dark curls leading up to his belly button, tracing the lines of his abs with careful purpose as you swallow around his cock. The belt loosens and you open your mouth a little wider. John pulls back, and you swirl your tongue around his head, sucking hard at the sensitive glans. 

You can feel his cock stiffening with each shallow thrust into your mouth, warming you up for the main event. You suck greedily at him, never let it be said you don’t give a mean blow job. You worship his cock as best you can. You stroke your tongue over his length, hollowing your cheeks to encourage him deeper. You can feel the muscles under your fingers holding back, but you wish they wouldn’t. John works himself deeper with every roll of his hips, testing your gag reflex until he’s satisfied you can take him.

He pushes into your mouth, his hard cock stretching out your throat with a pleasant burn. You do your best to swallow the discomfort, dragging your tongue over his length as best you can. He stops there, his cock down your throat and his balls knocking against your nose. He invades your senses, the smell of his sweat and musk filling your nose with each breath, your eyes starting to water from the angle, you scratch his stomach, trying to find something to hold onto. You feel him lean into the touch. Then the sharp sting of him slapping your clit. You squeal, the noise muffled by the cock in your throat, and scramble to get away from the feeling, which only pushes you further onto his dick.

John hits you again and you can’t do anything but twitch. The belt around your throat tightens warningly, and you whimper around him. His hand rubs down between your legs and drags slick up over your aching clit. He slaps you three times in rapid succession, each one harder than the last. Your eyes roll a little, and you take a sharp breath. Again you’re made dizzy by the smell of him, masculine enough to tickle your nose. 

“Getting all worked up over a few slaps,” John tuts, clicking his tongue as his fingers rub over your cunt, “look how wet you are for me already.” You whine around his cock, feel it drag out of your throat and over your tongue as he pulls his hips back. You lick his length desperately when he leaves your mouth, kissing his cock between breaths. He rocks his hips against your lips, smearing your spit over your face. You tip your head a little more to catch his balls as he moves, sucking at the sensitive skin and dragging your tongue through the wiry curls. 

“Proper slag,” He groans, you can feel his fingers wrap around his cock, his strokes bumping your chin, “givin’ my balls a spit shine, while I abuse your pretty pussy.”

You make an affirmative noise, opening your mouth wide to suck one of his balls into your mouth. Your eyes do roll at the next smack, and you can hear John groaning as you moan around him. The spark of the slaps is starting to drip out of you, your cunt clenching with each strike. The noise is different too quick, your wetness smeared eagerly over your pussy with each rub of John’s hand. It’s not enough for you. Your stomach tight and hot without the trigger to send it over the edge. 

You give John’s balls a final kiss, enjoying the spit that sticks to your mouth as you pull away. “Make me gag,” You beg, licking at John’s fingers as he strokes his cock, “please.” The belt tightens again, too quick for you to think what you’re saying wrong. John’s fingers hook in your cunt, tugging at your pussy and tilting your hips for himself. You shiver, do your best to breath while darkness fuzzes your vision. Your head swims, pleasantly warm, as your carotids are squeezed. “Please, sir.” You amend, though you’re not sure you want to.

“There you go,” John mumbles, the belt loosening as the man pulls back to push into your waiting mouth with one solid motion. You gag, constricting unpleasantly around his cock. You feel the rush of spit in your mouth, the drool you can’t swallow down that drips out over your lips with each thrust of his cock. You moan around him, grinding your clit against the heel of his hand. John clicks his tongue again, and the sound shudders through you. All hot and heady.

He spanks your cunt raw as he fucks your throat, and you feel all the tightness in your stomach unwind like the snap of a rubberband. Orgasm shivers up your spine, and you feel yourself flutter around emptiness. It’s wet and warm, and John doesn’t stop just because your legs are shaking. You writhe against the bed, your feet scrambling for purchase. It hurts, it’s too much. You smack John’s stomach and he stills. Your stomach flips as his hand stops its assault, only for his come to flood your throat. You gag again, and swallow desperately.

It’s not worth it, he pulls out to paint your face. His come hits your tongue, then your chin, then over your chest. You don’t bother swallowing the drool and come that he leaves in your mouth, letting it drip out of your mouth and over your cheeks.

John pulls you up off the edge of the bed by his makeshift leash and you attempt to get your libs to work while your brain is trying to play catchup. “On your knees,” He orders you, and you flop forward onto the bed. You push your hips up, feel John knock your knees further apart, his fingers pushing into your pussy. You flinch away from the feeling and he pulls you right back. “Color?” He hums, twisting his fingers against your sweet spot.

“Green,” You moan, trying to avoid coming on his fingers immediately. You’re too sensitive from the spanking, clenching on his fingers as soon as he starts thrusting them into you. If John’s opening you up he certainly doesn’t take his time with it. His thrusts are quick and targeted, his fingers hitting your sweet spot until you feel a gush of wetness slick them. His hand leaves you and you do your best to keep your hips up. “Fuck,” you groan against the sheets, “please-” The rest of your sentence is lost with the feeling of his cock pressing against you. 

You push back against it, feeling the nudge of it as it pushes against your entrance. Thick and tempting. John holds still for you, lets you try and pop him inside before his hips snap against you and you gasp, tightening around his cock immediately. You close your eyes and press your messy face against the bed. Fuck he feels good, stretches you just enough to feel it. 

The drag of his cock against your walls is warm and rough, he doesn’t give you time to adjust. You love when they do that. Makes the slight ache of being fucked hard that much better. He hits something deep and zappy in your stomach. You let out a tight whine, and press back into the feeling, trying to get him to do it again. 

“Know how to make me feel good, don’t you slag.” John rumbles, his voice rough and deep. You nod, feel the wetness on your face dragging over the sheets. John pulls the belt tight, forces you to arch your back as you lift your head, “Can’t hear ya’,” He coos, “I said-”

“Yes,” You moan, the ‘ss’ pulling long and fricative as he fucks you at a brutal pace, “Yes, yes, yes.”

“Fuckin’ pleasure to use,” John’s voice fuzzes in your brain, your eyes unfocused as you stare at the wall over the headboard, “take my cock so well.” The smack of his thighs against yours hurts, his balls knocking against your already abused clit tick the tight heat in your stomach a little tighter with each thrust.. He’s bigger than you, stronger the way he pulls you back with just a belt. You clench on his cock, another gush of slick easing his thrusts. “Just like that, pretty little cunt, fuck am gonna come.”

You push back against his cock, feel his thrusts grow erratic as his pace speeds up. He comes with a sharp intake of breath, and lets go of the belt to let you fall onto the bed again. You shiver against the sheets, and try to catch your breath as he pulls out. Fuck. You didn’t come. You’re still wound up for a third. 

You shove a hand between your legs and rub at your clit. “You’re jokin’,” John gapes. You ignore him, rocking against your fingers as you finally feel yourself cross the edge. You let out a shaky breath as your stomach jumps, your pussy fluttering and your legs shaking. You whine for yourself, rubbing your clit until your hips jump away from the feeling. You can feel John watching you as you drop your hand back against the bed with a sigh.

There’s a long moment of silence. You don’t particularly care what John thinks, but you could do without the quiet. Your hips buck when you feel his tongue lick a broad stroke over your dripping cunt. You’re quick to grab his short cropped hair and pull, as he wiggles his tongue against you.

“Good boy,” You purr, keeping a tight grip on him as he cleans you up.

-

(Now)

“You know him?” Ghost tips his head at the man in the doorway. It’s the first time you’ve noticed that he isn’t wearing his mask. He looks good. Handsome even with the scars that cut across his cheeks. The sort of handsome that makes men confident even when they can’t show their face. You get a little distracted looking at him, take long enough answering that he glances at you. The smile you earn, the soft chuckle as he turns and knocks his finger under your chin, is worth it. “Back to me baby,” He tells you, and you take a breath.

“Could ask you the same thing,” You smile back. Ghost hums, something sparking in his eyes that you can’t place.

“Johnny,” Ghost calls over his shoulder, John’s shoulders jerk back, the scot standing at attention, “Close the door.”

#cod x reader #x reader #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #john soap mactavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish #john soap mactavish x f!reader #x f!reader #sin summer #soap modern warfare #soap mactavish #soap mw2 #soap x reader #john mactavish #soap mactavish x reader #soap mactavish smut #johnny mactavish #soap cod #soap call of duty #john mactavish x reader #happy valentines day you filthy animals

[forcheol]

౨ৎ squishy — csc

synopsis i actually don’t even have one, the title kinda sums it up! pairing seungcheol x fem reader genre fluff. word count 0.9k

"you're so squishy, just squishy everywhere," you blurt out as you lay on your side, facing your boyfriend, "can you be my walking talking squishy, cheol?"

it's one of those nights where you and seungcheol lay in bed, still awake at 1:18am because neither of you can fall asleep. during these types of nights, you and seungcheol talk about all types of topics ranging from how you're going to surprise or prank the next person from the friendship group to reminiscing about your individual childhood memories. the conversations sometimes became deep and philosophical, you both have good points when debating yet end up arguing over who's right.

seungcheol stares at you as if you've just insulted his whole family and kkuma.

"why are you staring at me like that?"

"baby, what kind of question is that?" seungcheol laughs at you, finally ceasing the death stare, laughter bubbles out of him and his eyes crinkle at the corners.

"cherry, just answer it, can you be my walking talking squishy?"

"hm, i don't know about that…" he trails off, pretending to think hard about it.

you sneakily reach your hand over and behind him, as if to just hug him, and give his butt a squish. seungcheol flinches backwards and you yank your hand away and clasp it with your other on your chest, turning to the ceiling and whistling as if you didn't just lovingly touch your boyfriend's ass. you can feel seungcheol's wide eyes burning holes into the side of your face.

"hey, what was that for!"

"huh?" you turn to look at your pouty boyfriend, "what are you talking about?"

putting on an act and playing dumb makes seungcheol pout even more, his eyebrows lowering a little as if to scowl at you. he wouldn't do it for real though, he could never scowl at you.

you lean over and give him a kiss right on his pretty lips, letting out a loud 'mwah!' when you move back. your hands quickly move to his cheeks and you push them together. seungcheol's eyebrows return to their normal resting point and he's no longer pouting but fighting the biggest urge to start giggling like a schoolgirl at your actions.

“so, what did you decide?” you press him for his answer. you know it’s not that important but asking silly questions is so entertaining, especially when the answerer is choi seungcheol, aka the easiest to poke fun at.

“i have decided,” he pauses in an attempt to create suspense, “that…yes, i will be your walking talking squishy,”

“yay! now, i can s–”

“but!” he cuts you off before you can even celebrate properly, “you can’t touch my gluteus maximus, it is not free real estate.”

“what! but that’s how i release my stress,” you purse your lips at his comment. you know seungcheol is still joking at this point but playing along is so fun. secretly, he likes it when you smack his ass while passing by him. he lets you do it, he lets you do anything to him which is why sometimes you even end up biting his bicep because of all the cuteness aggression you get when you’re around him.

“i thought you bite my arms to release stress?”

“hey, people need to switch things up from time to time, you know,”

“whatever you say. i think i deserve something in return though, don’t you think?”

you sigh and roll your eyes, “and what would that be, hm?”

seungcheol turns his head to the side slightly and puffs out one cheek. then, he pokes that cheek with his forefinger. you stare at him with a bored look and when you don’t go along with his antics, he turns back to you.

“baby,” he whines out, “come on, hm? please? pretty please?”

he bats his eyelashes at you in an attempt to get you to kiss him. his eyelashes are pretty, you think for a moment.

seungcheol does the same thing again and this time you give in, leaning forward to kiss his round cheek. when you move back, he smiles softly at you, both dimples displayed on his rosy cheeks.

there’s this monster (it’s a good monster) inside you that makes you want to crush seungcheol in a hug and squish his cheeks with both of your hands forever because of how cute he is.

that’s exactly what you do, though. you couldn’t hold back, it was way too difficult when he’s just lying there, looking so adorable for no reason.

“cherry, sit up.”

he doesn’t know why you’re asking that but he does it anyways, it’s not like he would ever say no to you.

you lunge at him, throwing your arms around his thick neck and then proceeding to jump into his lap to wrap your legs around his waist. you squeeze your arms and legs around him and he grunts at the strength you use.

“baby, what are you doing?” he manages to get out, given how hard your arms were squeezing his neck.

your throat makes a nose similar to a dinosaur’s roar, “i’m loving you! but stop being so cute or i’ll explode!”

laughter bubbles out of seungcheol’s throat, his chest rumbling with the sound. you’re trying not to burst at the seams and he’s laughing? that’s really mean of him.

“stop laughing or i’ll kiss you until you can’t breathe!”

“i think i’d be sad if you didn’t do that, baby.”

#hani writes! #hani writes: csc #hani writes: svt #caratsland #choi seungcheol #choi seungcheol x reader #choi seungcheol fluff #scoups #scoups imagines #scoups x reader #scoups fluff #seungcheol #seungcheol imagines #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol fluff #seventeen #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff

[lululandd]

── 𝐢 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮;

pairing: simon ‘ghost’ riley x gn!reader

word count: 700

warnings: hurt/comfort

note: have you hugged your simon today? :3 (also on AO3)

summary: oh. he’s having those thoughts.

“Why are you with me?” 

You turn around, tilting your head to the side, confused at his words. “You never liked grocery shopping, Simon.” Trying to hold his hand, you can see him flinch away, “So I came with you.”

He has lapses in memory, for sure. A lot of the time Simon lives in his own world, the one where he relives the most horrible moments of his life over and over; as he lives his real life on autopilot. But to your experience it had never been this bad. He had asked what day it is three times in a row, he had forgotten the address you’ve lived in for several years, his own birthday, favourite foods, but never where he is.

“No. I mean why are you with me, with me.”

Oh. He’s having those thoughts.

“Really Simon? At the groceries? Now?” You slowed your pace, waiting for him to catch up to you.

He looked down at the trolley he’s pushing, defeat written all over his body language.

“We’ll talk all about it at home, okay? Let’s just get some food right now. I’ll make that parsley butter you really like.”

“No.”

You were caught off guard, heartbeat spiking as he said it with a hard edge that you have never heard used towards you before. “You don’t want parsley butter?”

The resigned sigh you hear lasted for what seemed to be a full minute. “Just leave me alone.” His eyes focused on something far away.

It was your turn to sigh as you place whatever it is you were holding back onto the aisle and walk towards the front door to wait for him there.

That seemed to snap him out for a bit. His brain is so mean to him, and you know he doesn’t mean whatever it is he said, but you’re just so tired. Grabbing your hand, he looks at you, eyes red, and you know groceries will have to wait another day.

It’s odd, being with him. He exudes power and confidence when he’s with his friends, and yet he becomes a sad hopeless blob when he’s with you. You missed his boisterous personality, the man that tells dark jokes and puns every single sentence he could. Sometimes you wonder if you’re doing this to him. If you’re the villain in his life, sucking all the happiness out of him.

Walking him to the car empty handed, you placed yourself in the driver’s seat. You see him hunched on his seat, fists balled on his thighs, his mind is probably wandering somewhere horrible again.

“Simon can you face this way?” You gently requested.

The man did as told but looked at anything but you. He made a cutout of your outline with his eyes and you held the urge to laugh. You slowly put your hand up and hugged his neck, burying your face on that sweet junction on his collarbone. It took a long while before you felt his hands around your waist.

“M’sorry.” His voice a low whisper.

“Don’t apologise.” You patted the back of his head. He mirrored the motion by patting you on the waist with his thumb.

“Didn’t mean anything I said.” He sounded close to tears, “Didn’t actually want you to leave.” 

You nodded sympathetically, “I know those weren’t your thoughts, Simon.” You released your hold a bit and kissed him on the chin, the only place you could reach right now. “You’re not that kind of person.”

He shuddered against you, something akin to a sob tore through him; you didn’t know what else to do but wrap your arms tighter around him. You held that position for as long as you could, but ultimately you had to let go. His eyes searched yours, the sombre expression etched onto his face mellowed just a little bit as you felt your heart beats a little less painfully at the turmoil he seems to be facing. He leaned forwards as you sunk your forehead onto his chest.

“Can we continue shopping or do you wanna just order in?” You offered.

“Parsley butter.”

His nonsensical answer brought a smile back to your face. Now that’s your Simon.

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #call of duty imagines #call of duty #scuffed writing

[catboyieejeno]

gameboy :: p.js — one

genre: gamer! jisung x gamer! reader, college au cw: female reader, fwb to lovers, explicit smut, pervy jisung, male masturbation, oral (m and f receiving), unprotected sex, inexperienced jisung, cum play/breeding kink, pet names, slight humiliation kink, size kink, creampie, probably more wc: 18.257k

join the taglist for part two

18+ minors do not interact!

The red letters that flash across your screen read ‘Defeat’, illuminating your dimly lit room with a shy, red hue. The instant the word appears on your monitor, a voice blasts through your headset, erupting in emphatic complaints and protests. You can hear the clatter of a keyboard and mouse being shoved around on the other end of the receiver, and it takes everything in you to stifle your laugh. 

“We definitely could’ve won that!” the boy scoffs, “I swear, sometimes it feels like you and I are the only people with any fucking game sense.” 

“Wow, thanks for the validation,” you joke, instinctively queuing up for another match. Your eyes trail up to the little icon in the corner of the screen that glows green every time he speaks.

“You know what I mean,” he grumbles, and you imagine he must not look all that different from the little crying cat picture he set as his discord icon. The thought makes you snort, but he ignores you, stating, “I think this is my last game,” 

You nod even though you know he can’t see you, “same, I have class tomorrow,”

“First day of the semester for you, too?”  

You nod again. “Unfortunately. My days of gaming until four and sleeping until noon have come to an end.” 

He laughs, leaning forward in his chair as he realizes something, “You know, I never asked what you’re studying,” 

“Oh,” you blink, “Well, the first class I have tomorrow is just a random credit I needed, but I’m actually majoring in-” 

It takes less than a few seconds for your words to drown out into a muffled buzz, and the only thing Jisung can focus on now is the silky, smooth sound of your voice. 

He would never admit it, at least not out loud, but your voice makes his heart beat just a little faster. The way each and every word rolls off your tongue makes his breath hitch, imagination running wild at the thought of what your lips look like when they mold to form each syllable and sound. 

Every night like clockwork, Jisung finds himself rocking side to side in his desk chair, eyes hanging low and round lips curved up into a smile as he listens to you speak.

It’s so easy to talk to him, too. By now, you’ve lost count of how many nights the two of you rambled off in voice chats, watching shows or playing video games or simply oversharing the details of your lives. It’s only been a few months since you met in a game chat, on that night where he practically harassed you for your discord after you carried him up a rank in-game. You’re secretly grateful he did, though you wouldn’t let him know that; the two of you effortlessly became part of each other’s daily routine, and now, calls with you are his favorite way to end the night. Tonight is no exception.

Jisung begins to mindlessly swing in his chair as usual. He’s humming passively between your small pauses to encourage you to keep going as his hands automatically start caressing his torso. It’s a somewhat innocent gesture, or at least it starts out that way: his palms sliding across the ridges of his abdomen as he listens to your voice. It’s better than music to his ears, and it urges his long fingers to dance closer and closer to his waistband.

“–and I thought about changing it, but I think with an degree in Lit, I could probably get a career in–”

Lost in your voice, Jisung slips his hands into his shorts, holding his balls as he fully zones out of the conversation. He knows you’re saying words and forming actual sentences, but his social awareness has dwindled completely and he absolutely can’t seem to get past how sweet you sound, and how much sweeter you would sound under… different circumstances. He moves up to hold his dick gently and furrows his brows. Almost accidentally, his thumb brushes along the underside of his tip, teeth clamping the inside of his cheek and gnawing on it to ground himself. Just as eager as its owner, Jisung’s dick jolts in his palm, progressively swelling up until it’s flushing bright pink. 

“You’re into English?” He manages to stop daydreaming and hone into the conversation for a fleeting moment, just long enough to ask you that simple question and keep your attention off of his rapidly shifting breath.

He’s blatantly playing with himself now, ever so distractedly. It’s an autonomous act: the way the pad of his middle finger trails over his slit to collect a bit of the pre-cum that has begun to dribble out in pearly beads. He hisses, then quickly snaps his mouth shut in hopes that you hadn’t heard him. 

“Yeah,” he can hear your smile in your words, “I think I always have been. I used to read all the time and—I swear, if you say I’m boring, I’ll personally come over and choke you–” 

As he acknowledges reality for a quick moment, his pace falters. His brows pinch, and he feels confused as he realizes he can’t stop or even moderate his actions, despite the shame slowly beginning to wash over him. The more you talk, the harder he grows. His grip is getting tighter, his strokes needier… he must be losing his mind. With a gulp, he thinks to himself, what would you do if you could see him touching himself like this to you? Would you think it’s sick and twisted or would you offer to help him out? His head begins to throb as the room spins around him, but he really can’t seem to slow his motions. By now, he’s bucking his hips up and into his hand while the other covers his mouth, silencing the whines that threaten to leave his throat. He’s breathing heavily, praying to god you don’t somehow notice his perverted actions. Despite knowing that he isn’t thinking straight, Jisung can’t help the thoughts that continue to fog his mind, rampant and obscene. 

Could you hear the squelching of his hand pumping his cock, covered in his pre-release? Or the way he’s practically panting, reduced to nothing at the mere sound of your voice? He’s not sure whether or not his mic would even pick that up, but even so, the corner of his lips curl into a lazy smile as his mind continues down his twisted rabbit hole. 

In spite of not knowing what you look like, there’s no denying that he wants to give you all of him. He wants to feel himself buried deep inside your throat, your pretty voice vibrating around him as you choke on his length. He feels himself twitch in his palm and he subconsciously nods, picturing it's your walls around him instead of his own inadequate hand. Jisung huffs out once, fucking his fist wildly, picturing how much he’d like to feel himself bust inside of your warm, tight pus-

“Sung? Sung!”

“Huh? W-what?” As he yanks his hand from his shorts, the waistband snaps against his skin and he yelps out at the impact, “Sorry! I promise I was listening, it-its just, I got a little caught up with–” words are tumbling out of his mouth, before he can catch up to them.   

“It’s fine, it’s fine! Hurry, just pick your agent before the match gets–” but the timer runs out, and the lobby screen appears once more as you sigh, “–canceled...” 

Jisung glances down at his hand, separating his fingers and watching how the sticky pre-cum leaves webbed strings between each of his parted digits. His stomach is also wet, and the tent in his pants is growing increasingly painful with each passing second. 

“What were you fantasizing about, huh?” Oh, fuck. The teasing edge in your words makes his nerves tingle, and he throws his head back as you hum into your mic, “Hmm. Well, I guess it was more interesting than what I was saying. Can’t blame you though, the topic of school is boring me too, and the semester hasn’t even started yet. Also, that can’t count as your last game. I literally won’t allow it.” 

You queue up for another game and Jisung sighs, watching the timer on the screen tick away. The picture changes, and the two of you are prompted to start a game. A few kleenex wipes collect the mess on his hand and torso, and he settles back in his chair after tossing them, deciding his neediness will have to wait for now.

Bidding you good night is harder than usual tonight, but he knows you need to get to sleep—you mentioned you had an early class and he had his own, so his selfish urge to keep you talking until he came in his hand would, unfortunately, need to take a raincheck.

After logging off of his computer, Jisung drops his head into his hands with a sigh.

What the fuck even was that? 

A mix of shame and arousal take over him as his cheeks begin glowing a deep shade of red. He lets out a small scoff, shaking his head to himself as he gets up from his chair. His dick is still as hard as a rock, and he can’t help but feel flustered at the fact that he has, quite literally, blue-balled himself. 

With a towel swung over his shoulder and a clean pair of sleeping shorts clutched in his fist, Jisung walks up to the dorm’s nearest communal bathroom. He turns on the faucet, freeing himself of his clothes. The moment his boxers come down past his thighs, his length slaps against the skin below his navel, making him hiss out as he steps into the shower. The cold water, running down against his heated body, seems to be doing the trick of clearing his mind, that is, until his hands find their way to his stomach, rubbing the soap over it.

It’s so hard to expel the thoughts of you when they’re so intrusive and tempting, and Jisung lets his mind drift off once more, imagining how it would feel to be touched by you, sucked by you. All the soft noises you would make are weirdly familiar; he can practically hear them. His head falls back, lips caught between his teeth as he twitches and gives himself an experimental stroke, shuddering as his thumb glides across the slit of his sensitive tip. He clenches his eyes shut tighter, letting out a shaky sigh and letting the water continue to trickle down his body. He doesn’t know what you look like, other than your hair color which you mentioned the other day. Despite that, he still tries desperately to piece an image of you together behind his eyelids, picturing what your lips are like. And just like that, thoughts of you flood him, and he shudders at the vision of you on your knees, looking up at him with big, innocent eyes, begging to taste him and take all of him. He longs to feel you swallow around him—to grab either side of your face and thrust into your needy mouth until the tears slip from your eyes and your pussy is dripping from the need to be fucked.  

Getting lost in the moment, he doesn’t even realize how loud he’s becoming and how fast his fist is working his dick. Jisung's highly anticipated release is only seconds away when a loud knock startles him, lunging him right back into his body.

“Yo, man! How long are you gonna take in there?” His friend and next door neighbor, Mark, shouts from the other side of the door, knocking again and ruining Jisung’s fantasy once and for all. 

The boy takes a moment to clear his throat and swallow, not trusting his voice to not crack otherwise, “Uh.. Sorry. I’ll just be a minute.” 

It takes everything in him to slow his hand to a stop and pry it off of his shaft, deciding that perhaps, he shouldn’t entertain his filthy thoughts any longer. He quickly finishes showering with another unnecessary interruption from Mark, then drags himself back to his room and gets into his bed, forcing his eyes shut in an attempt to sleep. The longer he lies there, however, the more restless he grows. 

His dick feels sore to the touch and it’s driving him absolutely crazy. Every time he adjusts his shorts or moves his legs, his balls throb from how full they are. Knowing he has class to get to the following day, he tries to convince himself that maybe he needs a release to get to sleep. It’ll tire him out, and then finally, he’ll be able to get some rest…There’s at least a bit of logic to that theory, or that’s what he tells himself, anyway. 

Against his better judgment that pleads with him to just shut his eyes and count sheep, Jisung huffs out and slips his hands into his shorts to begin touching himself for the nth time tonight. This whole time, he had been unknowingly edging himself and now he’s so, so undeniably and incredibly desperate to cum that it literally hurts. 

His free hand brings his phone up and unlocks it, thumb swiping quickly in search of the discord app where your contact resides, the little green bubble next to it signifying that you’re still online. He hovers over the call button, taunting himself with the idea of making a call to you at this time. One little click, and he’d hear your voice again. Just one click and he-

sung ᨐฅ started a call. Today at 11:54 AM

Shit, shit, shit. 

He rushes to hang up, but you’ve answered no more than a ring later. 

“Hello?” 

Jisung holds his rather unsteady breath, staring wide-eyed at his phone. His dick pulses in his palm that now rests still. 

“Sung?” 

As gently as possible, he lays the phone down on his puffed up chest, letting out his breath slowly so that you don’t hear him.

“I’m gonna assume you called me by accident… ” you sigh out in disappointment, growing quiet in uncertainty. For a second, Jisung is convinced you’re gonna hang up, but when you stay on the line, he peers down at the screen curiously. 

Your icon lights up green and there’s some shuffling on your end, presumably from you getting comfortable in bed. 

He hears you yawn and smiles fondly. 

“I’m tired,” you mumble, “are you asleep? I was actually excited that you called. Maybe it’s my fucked up schedule… or, maybe I’m just dreading tomorrow, but I couldn’t sleep. I don’t know…” 

You’re speaking slower and quieter than usual, but you’re speaking, completely oblivious of the fact that he’s thinking of the dirtiest things that involve you, getting off while you think he’s sound asleep. 

“It’s always easier to sleep once we’ve talked so,” you pause, then sigh out jokingly, “I guess I'll just talk your unconscious ear off until I fall asleep…You don’t mind, right?”

God, no, he thinks.  

Jisung silently celebrates your decision with a pump of his hand, shuffling a bit to get comfortable as you go on about genshin and cats and other things he can barely pay mind to. It takes no more than a few strokes, shallow ones where he caresses the angry head of his dick to the velvety sound of your slurred and drowsy mumbling, for him to bring himself to come so fucking hard. 

His knees lock as his cock springs up in his clutched palm, spewing streams of white cum all over his stomach, chest, and thighs. The muscles on his abdomen ache from the way they contract, eyes and jaw shutting tightly as he challenges himself to remain quiet. The sheets aren’t spared from his thick load either, his nut dripping down the sides of his tummy to make dark, round puddles on his bed. His toes curl as he tries his hardest to not gasp out when the pleasure dissolves into sensitivity, digging his head back into the pillow with a hand clasped over his lips. 

A few minutes later, the blurriness in his vision is relieved, along with the ringing in his ears. You’ve stopped talking; instead, the receiver picks up your short and shallow breaths, as if you’ve fallen asleep with your mouth open. Cute.  

As he assesses the aftermath of his much needed release, he wishes he could snap a picture and send it to you, so that you’d wake up knowing this pathetic mess he made was all for you, because of you.

Alas, he can’t, and he hangs up once he’s completely sure you’re resting. With his eyelids feeling much heavier than before, he manages to toss his phone onto the nightstand before he, too, drifts off to sleep.

•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ

The following morning, Jisung wakes up in a bit of a panic. The first thing that throws him for a loop is the fact that his alarm didn’t go off at all. He quickly realizes he forgot to set it amidst the activities of the night before. The second thing that strikes him is his own hand that rests on his stomach, stuck in some kind of damp, sticky liquid. In his half-conscious state, he lifts his fingers and his puffy eyes widen as he identifies the clear fluid that decorates his tummy as his drying release from the night before. 

“Ugh…” He grimaces, sitting up in his bed. His phone, which is less than half full of battery since he forgot to plug it in, blinks back the numbers 8:38 at him. Jisung’s eyes widen as he remembers that his first class of the day, of the semester, is at 9. 

“Fuck!” In a flash, his blanket is flung off of him and his legs are swinging over the edge of the bed. He moves to grab some tissues from his nightstand, making aggressively desperate attempts at wiping away his cum. When the Kleenex sticks to him instead, he digs around his drawers for a pack of wet wipes, snatching a pair of pants off of the floor at the same time and practically yanking them up his legs. 

Despite almost falling over, he manages to get them on and clean off his torso… for the most part. A random sweatshirt is tugged on over his head and he runs his hand through his hair a few times to tidy it before passively telling his reflection, this will do. 

Moments later, he’s rushing downstairs and outside of the dormitory with his unzipped backpack hung over his shoulder. He rushes to unlock his bike, cursing as he fumbles with the keys. Once he’s on, he starts pedaling to the Science building on the other side of campus, heavily dreading checking the time in fear it’ll read some absurd number and he’ll wind up being much later than he anticipates.

The breath that’s been caught in his throat all morning is only released when he steps through the door of the lecture room to see that the professor hasn’t walked in yet, and that the clock reads that he’s 6 minutes early.

Finally slowing his rushed pace, Jisung does a quick once over the room to scan the faces of his fellow students before taking his seat somewhere near the back. Thanking the heavens that his notebook and textbook didn’t go tumbling out of his bag in the midst of his previous hurry, he tugs them out, flipping them open and writing the date on the first page. His laptop, which is where he had planned to take notes on, sits in his dorm room where he left it on his desk. Everyone else has theirs out, but he’ll just have to bring his own next time. 

There’s a distant click, and the door on the lowest level of the lecture hall opens. Through it walks a relatively tall and slender lady, heels echoing rhythmically as she strides over to set her dark bag down by the podium. Her hair is tied back high and tight, so much so, that all of her features look like they're blending into her hairline. She looks like she’s somewhere in her mid-to-late fifties, and from the instant she walked in, the entire class went silent.

She clearly has a presence that commands attention and undoubtedly, she fits the visual profile of a strict college professor quite well, especially when she picks up the chalk and scribbles her surname onto the green chalkboard beside the larger projector screen.

“I’m Professor Hwang. Welcome to AST1002, also known as Descriptive Astronomy. If you’re here, that means you took AST1001 with Mr. Kwon last year. He has since transferred to a different department.” 

There’s no audible response, although some disappointment does flash across the faces of the students in the room, all of whom did have (and seemingly would miss) Mr. Kwon. Professor Hwang doesn’t seem to notice the lack of responses, and continues speaking as she pulls some papers out.

“Firstly, I’ll take attendance. Then, I’ll pass the syllabus around. I would like for you to note,” she pauses to place a pair of red glasses high on the bridge of her nose, “that attendance is mandatory for my class, and worth 20% of your grade. I’ll go over pop quizzes and weekly quizzes, as well as the initial class project, when each of you have a copy of the syllabus. That being said, I look forward to seeing you all here every class. Please call out when you hear your name.” 

As she starts to take attendance, Jisung takes the time to sigh into his hands, both exhausted and dreading the fact that he’d have to spend three days out of the week rotting in a lecture hall to attend a class he expected to be fun, or at the very least a break from his much more difficult core classes. By the looks of it, that’s no longer the plan. 

It’s easy to zone out quickly while his mind is still foggy, no doubt from the lack of sleep and the subsequent abrupt awakening that followed. He had just begun an attempt to read the syllabus when something made his ears perk. 

Immediately, his head snaps up in pursuit of a soft and airy voice that just responded to Professor Hwang. It’s so quick and in passing that he almost thinks he might have imagined it in his delirious state, but the way the hair on his limbs stands on end is unmistakable. His eyes dart around the room, hitting his classmate’s heads like targets, but there’s absolutely no way to identify the individual who just spoke. 

Could it be… No. No way. 

Jisung is no stranger to daydreaming about you, but he isn’t completely delusional. He knows the chances of being not only in the same city, but the same university and class as you are absolutely slim to none, so he stops that train of thought dead in its tracks. 

It does segway him into thinking of you, though. You’re obviously not here, so he wonders instead what class you are in at the moment. He tries to picture what you’re wearing on your first day of class, trusting you look more put together than him in his old hoodie that is slightly sticking to the dry cum on his stomach. Do you like your classmates? Your professor? He sincerely hopes you have a more tolerable one than he does. 

“Park Jisung?” 

With a slight cough, he spits out a weak “h-here.” and instantly grimaces, raising his shoulders autonomously as if he would get scolded for stammering so pathetically. The professor, to his relief, doesn’t even glance up from the roster. Then, he feels quite silly for even thinking he would get reproached for that to begin with. In his defense, she’s a rather intimidating woman, and his inner monologue is so loud and flooded with thoughts of you that he fears she may have heard it. 

She finishes calling for attendance, resorting to striding up and down the aisles as she begins to dissect the syllabus. In an effort to pretend he’s paying attention, Jisung glances down at the size twelve font on the page, skimming over the words without really taking anything in. During one of the professor’s paces, a pen she had resting on her ear slips and falls towards the ground with a slight clatter, and it seems a student picked it up for her, because there’s a slight mumbling, followed by a sharp “thank you,” and a very, very recognizable,

“You’re welcome, Professor.” 

His eyes widen at once. Alright, call him crazy, but now he thinks that it really might have been your voice. The familiar timbre, warm and delicate; a sound he’s heard for months on end and knows embarrassingly well… The thought of being in the same room as you out of sheer luck and coincidence makes his abdomen twist and his palms sweat so bad, he has to wipe them on his pants.

He hates that he can’t fully tell, in fact, he’s almost ashamed that he can’t; before today, Jisung would have sworn up and down that he knew your voice better than even his own, but you sound so far and so quiet that he can’t completely bet all of his marbles. Then, he quickly realizes calling it ‘your voice’ definitely makes him sound delusional, even in the safety of his own forgiving conscience. He decides to call it ‘the voice’ for now, at least until he’s a hundred-percent sure. 

An irritatingly long hour and half later, the only sound that continues to ring around the lecture hall is Professor Hwang’s monotone one, reciting each and every itemized assignment and rule on the never-ending syllabus. There’s less than fifteen minutes until class is over, and she shows no signs of stopping her dissertation. 

“As for the class project: In pairs of two, you will research a constellation extensively to create a presentation on its formation, who cataloged it, and the Greek myth that may accompany it. Please note that this is the first and last time we will talk about constellations in this class, since they are not cosmic phenomenons but instead, a mere roadmap to the objects and themes we will be focusing on. Consider this strictly as an opportunity to familiarize yourselves with another classmate and show me your interest and effort in the subject. That concludes our syllabus,” Thank God, Jisung thinks. 

 “Any questions?” She glances around at a hand that floats in the air, near the front of the room, “yes?” 

“Will we be able to select our partners?” 

“No. Partners will be assigned at the end of the week. Yes?” She calls on another hand. 

“As for the constellations,” Wait, that’s it! That’s the voice—that’s your voice, he’s completely sure of it!  “Will you assign those as well?” 

Jisung elongates his neck to try and peek over the heads in his way. It is you, he’s positive now, but you’re turned away from him, and he can’t fully make out which ‘back of the head’ is your ‘back of the head.’ The echo in the hall makes it nearly impossible to pinpoint who just spoke which means he can’t pinpoint you. For some reason, he finds himself slightly panicking, desperate to finally see you in person.

He follows Professor Hwang's line of sight as she answers that she’ll assign the constellations on Friday too, and finally finds you, seated between a few other students. A few more questions are thrown around, but his eyes never leave you, anticipating the moment he catches a glimpse of your face. 

Naturally, his first instinct is to approach you as soon as class is out, but when he sees you spin around to pick up your bag that hangs off your chair, he finds himself glued to his own flimsy seat. Feet stuck to the ground, legs not budging, and air hitched in his throat at the sight of you. 

You’re so, so much prettier than he could have imagined with whatever unoriginal features he tried to piece together in his lacking mind, and that fact makes him both exhilarated and completely nauseous. 

He’s barely been looking at you for a few seconds when he feels his insatiable cock growing fast in the confines of his pants, with no regard for its owner and the fact that he has to stand up within the next minute or so to exit the hall. Jisung curses under his breath, awkwardly rising to his feet when most of his classmates leave, his bag clutched tightly in front of his groin. He prays you don’t glance over, not even because he has a semi-hard on he’s failing to hide with dissimulation, but because he’s staring at you like some sort of freak and can’t seem to look away. 

There’s nothing he wants more than to come up to you and say hi and confess he’s the person you’ve been gaming with for months. He’s pictured it countless times before, you’d think he’d have it down by now, but your beauty is intimidating, and he simply cannot and will not make a fool of himself in front of you by greeting you with a raging boner. 

You walk out of the classroom and Jisung’s heart settles in his chest as he sits with his decision to stay anonymous for now. 

•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ

“She was obnoxious, you have no idea!” 

“My teacher wasn’t much different,” he admits, a small, knowing smile toying at his lips, “she seemed like a real bitch,” 

It’s later that same evening, and talking to you doesn’t really feel the same anymore. It’s much harder, because now, Jisung can vividly picture you, sitting in your chair with your hands on your keyboard and mouse. Every word you say, his imagination is right thereafter, picturing your pretty face clear as day in the forefront of his mind. 

The moment he got home, he fucked his fist until he came in his hand. It took about five minutes, and then he pumped another one out in the shower, (a much needed shower, at that) where he finally washed away the remains of the night before. 

After he had lunch with Mark and the other boys from his floor, they had invited him to play basketball. At the same time, however, he received a direct message from you, explaining you didn’t have any other classes for the day and asking if he could get on earlier. 

It’s a little ridiculous, but now that he’s seen you, now that he knows you’re so much closer than he initially thought, he can’t wait to talk to you again. And so he quickly came up with an empty excuse related to his studies, took the berating from his friends like a champ, and rushed upstairs to log into his PC and open up your chat. 

“Not only do we already have a project, but we don’t even get to pick our partners.” 

I know! He thinks. 

“Like,” you start, and he pictures the way your cheeks fill up with air as you let out a huff, “what if I get stuck with some weirdo?” 

Instantly, Jisung stops palming himself, letting his hand climb back up to the mouse slowly.

He probably shouldn’t let that innocent statement affect him as much as it does, but he can’t help it. He has the advantage, right? Or, at least it seems that way. 

When everything is laid out, he has the upperhand of knowing who you are—you haven’t seen him, yet… but what if you did see him, and he wasn’t at all what you were expecting? Or even worse, what if you got paired together for the project and you thought he was weird or the two of you didn’t get along? That option is far less likely, since there are well over fifty students in AST1002. 

“I don’t know,” you start, “I’m considering switching out of the class-” 

“No!” Wow. Good going, Jisung.

He catches his slip-up and quickly blurts out, “I-I mean, it might not be that bad! You should… at least give it a shot before you try to switch out, right?” 

“I guess you’re right… The add and drop period at my school is until next Friday, so I'll try it out until then.” 

Great! Perfect! Good save. The only problem now is: Jisung has a little over a week and a half to somehow convince you to stay in his class and at the same time, not completely butcher his introduction to you. Approaching you now seems practically impossible, but he needs you to stay in the class, even if it means he has to come up to you first. He can’t be bothered to care that his insistence is for his own selfish intentions, if it means getting to see you three times a week. 

“But anyway,” he clears his throat, changing the topic as quickly as possible, “how did your other class go?” 

“Much better than the first, the teacher let us out early once he covered the books we’d be analyzing this semester and attendance isn’t mandatory since most of the material is online or in the library. I think I’ll swing by there one of these days to see if I can get ahead on some of the assignments.” 

“Oh, so you’re a nerd?” You gasp and smack his character in-game a few times. He laughs, calling out, “okay, okay, truce! You’re not a nerd then, just an overachiever.”

“How so?” 

“We’re barely a day into the semester and you’re already trying your homework that I’m sure isn’t due for at least a few weeks,” 

You roll your eyes, knowing he’s right. With a bit of playful flirtation twisted into your tone, you hum out, “What can I say? I like to please.” 

One of his eyebrows perks up, “is that right?” 

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” He can hear your smirk through the screen, and now, he can vividly picture it, too. 

Jisung scoffs, backing away from your character so that he’s out of your sight. He cowers into a corner in game;  this way, you don’t notice how he stops moving when his left hand leaves the w,a,s,d keys to cup and rub his needy bulge. 

•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ

Wednesday’s class is somehow packed and entirely uneventful at the same time. The first of Professor Hwang’s dragging lectures is so loaded that Jisung actually thanks the heavens that he remembered to bring his laptop. Otherwise, his notebook would have been about halfway full already, and his hand? It would have fallen off. 

On another relevant note, he’s struggling to stay focused because today, he is sitting much closer to you. Intentionally, of course. There’s still a few rows between him and you, but in this new seat, he can glance at you as often as he’d like without straining his eyes or stretching out his neck to make his gawking painfully obvious. He can clearly make out your smooth skin, along with other details he wasn’t able to notice before like your beauty marks and your dainty earrings. You’re paying unfaltering attention to the class for the first hour, but after the sixty-minute mark, you appear to have become bored. He catches the way your pencil starts doodling along the corners of your notebook and it takes everything in him not to snort when you scribble down a wonky looking cat. 

He’s so distracted by you, that every couple of slides, he glances back to the projector to see that the class is now on an entirely different topic than the one he last managed to jot down. He doesn’t mind, though. You’re a much more enthralling sight than quasars and supernovas. 

Halfway through the lesson, you decide to peel off your little black cardigan and hang it on the back of your chair, exposing your arms and neck and shoulders to him. Your hair is tied up neatly right after, giving him all the more to gawk at and envision. Jisung has to remind himself that he’s in a classroom just so that he doesn’t start fantasizing about how it would feel to grip your hair up in a similar fashion and fill your throat up with his dick.

With great difficulty, he directs his focus to the board instead, typing quickly into his laptop all the notes he manages to catch before the slide changes again and Professor Hwang’s narrow eyes can scan the room to see who’s paying attention. 

When the class is over, you start talking with the girl next to you, aimlessly reaching back for your bag. The gesture makes your cardigan fall, and Jisung has to fully bite his tongue to keep himself from calling out your name and giving himself away. He waits to see if you’ll notice, or if someone nearby will alert you, but neither one happens. Instead, you stand up, still engrossed in your conversation, and make your way towards the door. Instantly, he jogs down the aisle and between the seats to grab it and wordlessly hand it to you, but by the time he makes a move to head in your direction, you’ve already left. 

He feels disappointed at first, but the feeling quickly shifts into relief. Wordlessly hand it to you? Does he want your first impression of him to be awkward and borderline rude? No and definitely no. This problem has a simple solution—it’s a blessing in disguise; he’ll take your cardigan home and bring it to you on Friday and maybe, if his courage allows, he can introduce himself then. 

“Hey! I noticed you left your sweater here last class. I brought it for you. Oh, and by the way, it’s me! I’m @sung.ie. How did I know it was you? I can recognize your voice across a huge lecture hall.”

Yeah… he’ll think more on that later. 

With your cardigan clutched in his fist, Jisung sighs, making his way outside and towards his bicycle. He tucks the clothing item into his backpack and pedals back home, wondering how he’s going to manage to give it back to you since you always get to and leave class before him.  

He knows some of his friends and dorm-mates have their own class today, they had exchanged schedules during lunch a few days ago, which leaves him to hope and pray you’ve decided to skip your class and get online. As he parks his bicycle downstairs and locks it, he slips his phone from his pocket and opens discord, but your bubble remains gray and cold. You’re offline. 

Maybe you haven’t gotten home yet. He checks his phone again when he gets upstairs, and again when he goes inside his dorm, tossing his bag aside and crashing on his bed. He checks after losing a round of candy crush, and again after replying to a text from his mom. 

By the looks of it, you were in class, or at the very least, not available for the moment. Jisung sighs, pretending he’s not actually as disappointed as he feels. It seems a bit dramatic to feel the need to kill time until he gets to talk to you again so he resorts to doing physics homework—a short baseline his teacher assigned that wouldn’t be graded—and tricking his brain into thinking the former is not what he’s actually doing. 

When he pulls his bag off his desk chair to grab his laptop, your cardigan comes into view, and he pauses to look at it. He sits like this for a moment, wondering if he should fold it nicely on his dresser so he can remember to take it to you, but his hands act before his mind can catch up, reaching in and basically shoving the material toward his face. 

With his nose buried in your scent, Jisung inhales deeply, sinking into his chair as his legs grow weaker. The trace of your floral softener is the first aroma he gets, and then, the smell of your perfume peeks through, soft and sweet and very fitting for you. Once more, his treacherous hands are acting for themselves and he’s suddenly undoing his belt single-handedly. 

Once his dick, growing by the minute, is out and clutched in his palm, he finally retracts your sweater. With little hesitation, he wraps it around his erection and pumps once, throwing his head back in immediate relief.

It’s a fucking miracle that his room is the last one at the end of the hall, and that his next door neighbors, Renjun and Jaemin, are both in their afternoon lectures, because nothing would have been able to muffle the wanton moan that rips from his chest as he strokes himself with your scent. His hips are bucking up into the air, and in only a few minutes, he’s broken a slight sweat. His balls tighten from sheer sensitivity at the act of fucking something directly related to you. 

A cry of your name, followed by a few more pumps and he’s coming inside your mangled cardigan, his white release breaching the thin material. It seeps through it like light through a veil, gathering thickly on top before spreading into a dark, wet patch. There’s a shudder that passes through his bones as he sits back, burying his cock into the fabric and keeping it there until he’s given up every last drop. 

The only thing that snaps him from his post-nut bliss, is the distinct discord ring-tone that blasts through his headset. His computer monitor turns on as your icon appears and simultaneously, his heart and dick both twitch. 

“Hello?” With his output device swung over his head, he presses the green ‘answer’ button and speaks into the mic, hiding his slight shortness of breath with a yawn. 

“I’m so glad you answered,” you beam, and he does too, “I was worried I had called while you were in class or something,” 

As he speaks, he wipes the remnants of his cum off with your cardigan and puts it aside on his desk, tucking his softening (and still very sensitive) dick away into his boxers, “No, you’re good. I had a class earlier today but now I’m free.” 

“What a relief,” you sigh, “Would you want to have a little homework ‘sesh’ with me? I just found out the library doesn’t have any available labs. I doubt I’ll be able to concentrate much with you but at least I'll be in good company.”

“Like an e-date?” 

“We can call it that,” you grin, then he pictures your expression becoming a gloom one to match your slightly sadder tone as you admit, “Sometimes I wish we went to the same school so we could meet up and study at a coffee shop.” 

He snorts, unable to help but crack a joke, “Like a real date?” 

Your laugh makes his heart swell slightly. When you reply, “Maybe,” it starts flipping wildly in his chest. 

God, you can’t even begin to imagine how badly he wants that. 

“That would be nice,” he agrees humbly, a blush creeping on his cheeks. “What class are you gonna study for?” 

There’s a pause before you speak again where you hum in thought, flipping through a few pages and shuffling through your bag. Jisung joins you, grabbing his laptop and school supplies, “I have a project for my astronomy class. It’s related to constellations and I wanna start researching them so that I can make an outline for the assignment,” 

He looks through his math notes with his brows furrowed down, “I thought she was gonna assign them on Friday?” 

Your icon flickers as you reply, “She is, but I want to—wait. How did you know that?” At your words and the realization of his untimely slip up, Jisung’s body goes rigid. He can only imagine the confusion on your features, and he’s quite relieved you can’t see the look on his. If his eyes were to open any wider, he’s sure they might just slip out of his head. 

“Oh, um,” he clears his throat mechanically, then gulps in an effort to lubricate it and keep his voice steady, assertive, certain. “You mentioned it on Monday, remember?” 

“Did I?” You didn’t, but he really hopes you think you did. “Probably,” At that, he lets out the air he’s holding, shaking his head slightly at himself for being so careless. 

“But um, yeah,” he starts before you can give it any further thought, “If she’s assigning them Friday why are you working on it today?” 

“Cause she’s also assigning partners on Friday, and I don’t really know anyone besides the girl who sits next to me and I doubt I’ll get paired with her. I want to make sure my grade is secured, you know? I’ve never liked group projects. I feel like all the work gets dumped on me.” 

He’s still not entirely sure what you mean to do, or how you intend to create a blueprint of sorts without knowing what it was for, and so he stops flicking through his page of notes to look up at his monitor and ask, “But if you don’t know which constellation you’re gonna work on, how are you gonna make an outline?” 

You ponder his question for a moment, then mumble out, “She didn’t mention a rubric or anything, so I figured that as long as I plan out the different sections and give the project a structure, half of the work is cut out, right? I can just assign parts at that point.” 

“You’re that kinda person in a group project? I’m sorry to whoever gets partnered with you,” He’s not sorry, not at all. He’s rather envious, actually, despite his attempts to sound indifferent or amusing. Being granted time to spend with you at your place or his, or at the library or the local campus cafe, would be a no less than perfect ice breaker. Jisung would make sure you never felt like all the research and assembling depended solely on you—in fact, he could see himself now, spending countless hours perfecting the details of his assigned part and inquiring about other suggestions to improve the project, just to impress you or at the very least, satisfy you. The reality that someone else would get to do all of that in his place is disheartening. 

You guys had rarely ever talked about school before now, since neither of you actually were enrolled in any classes when you started chatting, but now that it’s relevant, he feels like he understands a whole different side of you. You’re organized, and obviously very studious. Hell, you’ve been itching to get started on assignments that haven’t even been assigned yet. You’re responsible, dependable, funny, beautiful, and every time he thinks of you lately, he realizes that his innocent crush is slowly becoming an insatiable one.   

“Hey! I’d be very nice if it was you, you know. Show you some favoritism,” the corners of his lips twitch upwards—“But I’m also glad it’s not you,”—and fall down again. 

“What? Why?” He tries to not sound too offended. 

“I’d end up talking your ear off, Sung.” 

“I’m already used to that, don’t mind it. Kinda like it, actually.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” He nods curtly, even though there’s a monitor and an entire school campus between you and him and he knows you have no way of seeing his gesture. There's a moment of silence that you spend taking a brief breath as a glow tinges your cheeks. 

With a stifled laugh, you open your mouth again, “I think it’s just because you like me that you tolerate my rambling,” 

“No.” He’s quick to clarify, “I really do like it.” He loves it. 

“And me?” your voice is much quieter, almost giving the impression that you’re shy in asking something so decisive and direct. Jisung, emboldened by your vulnerability, and the distance the screen puts between you two, answers with certainty. 

“I like you, too.” 

•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ

 “The constellation project, as I mentioned during your first class, is a tool for you to acquaint yourself with your classmates. It will be due in 3 weeks, and you can check the syllabus for specifications regarding that. After today, there will be no changing partners or constellations so should you need any changes to be made, you have until class is dismissed. Listen closely as I read out the pairs for the project. I will not repeat myself.” 

The sharp tone he’s growing more and more distaste for by the day drowns out as Jisung glances over at you. Today, you’re sporting a bone-colored long sleeve and corduroy pants with half of your hair held back in a shiny clip. You look ravishing. Truthfully, he can’t really tell if you’re wearing makeup or not—although he concludes it doesn’t matter. Your features are soft and pretty nonetheless, and your cheeks have turned rosy from the dropping autumn temperatures. 

“Yu Karina will be partnered with Lee Heesung. Your constellation is Cassiopeia.”

When you walked into the lecture hall this morning, there was a hot coffee cup with the campus cafe’s logo on it clutched in your hands, which you sipped on while shivering. Taking your usual seat, you greeted the girl next to you, who Jisung now knew was called Yu Karina. 

The dark haired girl perked up when Professor Hwang called her name and waved down the aisle at who he can only assume is Lee Heesung, her partner, then whispered something to you. You looked over at the boy and back at Karina, nodding and giggling with her. 

“Jennifer Huh, partnered with Ning Yizhuo,” Professor Hwang referenced her other list, “Constellation: Cancer.” 

The two girls greet each other with a look and a smile, but Jisung pays little mind. He’s listening intently—for the first time—in anticipation of hearing one of your names be called. He doesn’t exactly know your full name, only a nickname he refers to you as, the one attached to your discord handle. Otherwise, pinpointing you that first day of class would’ve been much easier. 

“Park Jay and Lee Sohee, your constellation is Orion.” 

Sitting there, he realizes that in all the months you’ve talked, he’s never once asked for your full first name. Is that strange? What kind of friend is he if he doesn’t even know your name? In all fairness, you never asked for his, either, so he supposes it’s okay. Would have been useful to know, though, at times like this. 

After his small confession of ‘like’ on Wednesday, the two of you went on studying your respective subjects, with the occasional (and inevitable) distraction here and there. Admittedly, he thought his comment would be forgotten rather quickly. It wasn’t like he outwardly poured his heart out to you, so he figured you’d move on and just crack a joke or two about it later. There was a change, though; a strikingly obvious one to Jisung, who hangs on your every word like it’s a tether that keeps him from floating. And, even if he didn’t pay such close attention to you, there’s no way he could have missed the new flirtatious ambiance that flourished afterwards. Flirting with you is not uncommon by any means—the two of you playfully tease each other with frequency, but it’s nothing he’d allow himself to look into too much, for his own sake. 

That changed in the hours following his comments. All of Wednesday evening, the two of you went back and forth, feeding each other compliments in the form of banter. Again, he thought it would end there, but on Thursday afternoon when you logged on, he asked how your progress was going with the outline, to which you texted back, “I was thinking of you all day. Didn’t get around to doing much else.” 

It wasn’t the only message from you that nurtured his feelings, either. There were enough substantially flirty messages from your conversation that night, that he was able to scroll through them and reread them a few times before bed. 

ynn ᓚᘏᗢ: yesterday at 6:49PM

hi did you smile when you saw my name pop up on your phone just now

ynn ᓚᘏᗢ: yesterday at 8:22 PM

you’re so cute

i can barely think 

ynn ᓚᘏᗢ: yesterday at 9:14 PM

i feel like my day doesn’t make sense if we don’t talk 

ynn ᓚᘏᗢ: yesterday at 10:58 PM

i should get to sleep 

but i don’t wanna stop texting you

ynn ᓚᘏᗢ: yesterday at 12:02 AM

goodnight, sung <3 miss you til’ you’re back

Now, as he eyes you with a boyish, lovesick gaze, watching you doodle your stupid little drawings as you await your assignment, he finds himself praying for the courage to come up to you after class.

Professor Hwang calls your name next, something he only realizes at the fitting similarity of your nickname and the way your pen meets the table in alert to being called on, head lifting up and eyes blinking expectantly. 

“Your partner will be,” 

Jisung holds his breath, chanting in his head ‘please, oh, please let it be me,’

 “Lee Chan.” 

Wishful thinking never got anyone anywhere, then. He ignores the way his heart sinks into the pits of his stomach, unable to help but observe your curious gaze as it looks around the filled seats. For a fleeting moment, you meet his eyes, but he doesn’t react or claim to be Lee Chan who you so evidently are in search of, and so you pass him and keep studying the aisles. After a few seconds, you find no one gazing back, even after you slightly stand to peer above the nearby heads that obscure your view. 

“Your constellation is-” 

With a cautious raise of your hand, you interrupt Professor Hwang gently, “Excuse me, Professor, but I don’t think my partner is here.” 

For a moment, her lazer-like gaze looks like it could light you on fire, a consequence of daring to interrupt her, but it softens only slightly as she realizes the truth in your statement, scanning the room herself and calling out for the missing boy. Upon receiving no call back, she thinks for a moment, then looks back down at her clipboard and crosses something out. 

“I did mention attendance was mandatory, didn’t I?” This she mutters to herself, “No matter. Instead, you’ll work with,” she gives the paper another once over, then clicks her pen and speaks, “Park Jisung.” 

In an awkward burst of both excitement and confusion, Jisung darts out of his chair. His knee hits his desk with a clang, and his laptop would have gone flying if it wasn’t for his quick hands that catch it before it can fall. The loud ruckus turns several heads in his direction, including Professor Hwang’s and more importantly, yours. 

Feeling an awful lot like a deer caught in headlights, Jisung blinks as the two of you make eye-contact, then he takes his seat again, very quickly by the way. “Uh, that’s me,” he announces, heat spreading across his face and eyes darting around, “Sorry.” 

Does he feel more sorry to his teacher and classmates for disrupting the classroom, or to himself and you for the absolute fool he has just made of himself? As much as he’d like to tear his gaze away from yours and cast it to the ground in embarrassment, it remains stuck on you, awaiting your impending reaction. 

You’re rather unsure how to feel, though given, a little surprised at the commotion. You offer him a small smile through pursed lips, and Jisung nods, willing with all his might for a hole to open in the ground beneath him and swallow him.  

“Thank you, Mr. Park, for your remarkably clear confirmation. Your constellation is Gemini.” 

You turn in your chair to face the front again, scribbling down his name in the corner of your notebook, as well as the constellation you’d been assigned.

“He’s cute,” Karina comments to you as you look over at her, and you finally let out a small laugh you had been holding in. 

“He is. Clumsy,” you snort, “but cute.” 

“We both got cute partners. We should meet up at the library later and all get started on the project together,” 

You nod enthusiastically, going back to your outline that sits at the ready on your laptop screen and making quick work of labeling the different sections evenly. If it wasn’t so obvious for you to spin around and steal a glance, you might have done so again. You’re certainly tempted to, thinking back to seconds ago and realizing you hadn’t really noticed him the last two classes. 

Jisung watches your exchange with his dignity at serious risk. He’s entirely unable to hear or make out what you’re saying to each other, and it makes his pulse pick up and his mind race. He considers many things as he watches the two of you talk: firstly, asking to change his partner, but then realizing that would be an awful idea. Once you knew who he was, how would you ever forgive him for immediately ditching you? Absolutely not. Cowering had gotten him nowhere so far. 

Then, he considers switching out of the class himself, and disappearing, never to reveal himself to you—but that wasn’t the right thing to do either. Incapable of checking out of your life so quickly and denying himself the treat that is seeing you three times a week (and now, possibly more), he cans that idea, too. 

As Professor Hwang finishes reading off the list of names, he begins planning what he’ll actually say to you, as that conversation is just minutes away. There’s less than a half-hour left of class, which means he has to think hard and fast. 

As he busies himself with the grueling task of picking an appropriate and redeeming introduction, he doesn’t hear the new instructions from Professor Hwang, which are to find your partner and begin brainstorming, as well as exchanging schedules to set aside time outside of class to work on the presentation. A shadow falls over his desk and consumes his work space in darkness. When his curiously squinted eyes trail up to find the source, only to land on you, hovering above him with your things clutched in your arms, he grips his seat to keep from jumping out of it for the second time today. 

“Is this seat taken?” 

So much for having time to figure out how to approach you. His heart does a leap of surprise in his chest in place of his physical body, and he resists the urge to clutch it.

“No.” He replies shortly. 

With your unfaltering, kind smile still present on your face, you laugh softly and place your things down, introducing yourself. 

“You’re Ji-sun, right?” 

“—Sung.” he politely corrects you. When you don’t immediately react, he wonders if you had even heard him. He doesn’t put it past himself to have imagined that he replied to you, between his sweating palms and nervous jittering, and your pretty self sitting just a foot away, he’s barely keeping it together.  After a moment that feels infinitely longer than it actually is, you raise your eyebrows slightly, round lips parted to ask your question with a palpable hesitance. 

“W-what?” 

“Jisung,” he quickly replies, pronouncing the ‘g’ clearly and masking the way his eyes widen with a heavy blink that honestly, may not serve as any better of a guise. He pleads with himself to get his shit together but luckily, you don’t seem to notice. 

“Oh, sorry… Sorry, It’s just—nevermind. Hi, Jisung.” 

“Hi, Y/N.” He savors the way your name feels on his tongue but keeps his enjoyment brief. 

“I hope you don’t mind,” you start, lifting the screen of your laptop to reveal the very same outline you had started working on during your last call with him, “but I already made an outline. If you wanna scrap it and start all over, we can—” 

“No, It’s fine, we can use this,” when you give him an unsure look, he smiles reassuringly, “It looks brilliant.” 

“Thank you.” There’s a pause that is filled only by you clearing your throat, “Ok, I have a literature class right after this one on Mondays and Wednesdays. The rest of my classes are online, so I’m free at any time, really. I usually like to study at the computer labs in the library, it’s nice and private there and I find it much easier to focus. But if you don’t want to go there, we could always go to the cafe or the square for some fresh air. Oh, and either one of our dorm rooms works fine if you’re okay-” 

To experience your presence on a phone call is one thing, but to experience it in real life, with your clear voice so arresting and your silky, smooth lips within reach, is absolutely mesmerizing. He’s fighting the urge to glance down at your mouth, but it’s becoming increasingly harder to sustain eye contact, as lovely as he decides your eyes are. Another thing that is becoming exponentially harder, and more sensitive all the same, is his cock, springing to life with an eagerness to greet you. 

There’s a bit of panic that flashes across his features as he senses the strain it’s causing in his pants, and only when you look down at your outline does he dare to sneak a glance down at his own groin where as expected, a noticeable imprint was beginning to develop. In a desperate gesture, he slides his notebook over his lap, suppressing a hiss, and leans forward to pretend to use his own laptop. 

“Any of those work for me,” 

“Okay, great,” You notice the time and turn back to him. “You can just message me when you’re free.”

“Sure.” 

“And here’s my number—” you reach over, sliding the protective notebook from his lap and placing it on your desk, scribbling your number in the corner. Jisung immediately readjusts his hoodie, throwing the hem of it over his boner. Professor Hwang dismisses the class as you pass it back. 

“Call me whenever you’re free.�� With a spin of your heel, you wave goodbye to him and rejoin Karina, who waits for you  at the door with her partner.

Jisung lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding, and looks down at the number you wrote. Beside the digits, written in very neat handwriting, might he add, sat perched on a wobbly branch a little black cat that he recognized from his hours of staring as one of your doodles. 

•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ

The time is 4:33PM, and Jisung has drafted over a dozen messages on the iMessage app addressed to your number. None of them have exactly made it to you yet, courtesy of his thumb that keeps pressing backspace and wiping out any trace of a remotely embarrassing text. It’s the next day and no introduction or invitation to meet up seems like it’s good enough to send, though he knows that inevitably, he has to text you first. You left your number behind with the doodle that he has since stuck to the corner of his PC monitor, but you never took down his; so now, the ball is in Jisung’s court, and he knows that if he waits too long, you’d think he was avoiding you or the project altogether. 

Realistically, he knows a simple “Hi, it’s Jisung,” will suffice, but he can’t bring himself to send you such an unoriginal and boring message. After pondering for a moment, he then decides the best solution would be to do some research, and then call you with his findings—this way, his interest in the project would be clear, and he knows how important that is to you. 

At once, he peels your cum-stained cardigan off of his lap, though not before stealing a glance at the day’s new additions, and places it aside. He tucks his spent dick into his short and turns on his monitor, typing the name of the constellation into Google and investigating nearly every website he could find with any useful information. 

In the nicest handwriting he can manage, Jisung bullets a list of all the facts and history he could find on ‘Gemini’ within the hour, including the stars that make up the constellation, the myth behind it, and other relevant statistics. It isn’t until he has filled up an entire page front and back—partially—that he picks up his phone again and makes another attempt at contacting you. 

Feeling slightly more confident, he types up his message. 

To: 555-111-0205

hi, it’s jisung from astronomy. i did some research and i wanted to show you what i found. let me

know if you’re free to exchange notes. Sent at 5:52 PM.

Jisung rereads over his message for any flaws, though there’s nothing he can do about it now that it’s sent, anyway. After he deems it an okay first message, he takes a breath and moves to put his phone down, but it buzzes in his hand instead. 

Incoming call at 5:54 PM From: 555-111-0205

“Hi-”

“Hi! Sorry to just call unannounced but I’m walking to the library with all my stuff and I can’t really text. I was able to book us a computer lab for the next two hours so If you want, we—can you hear me?” 

He sits up straighter, “Yeah! Yes, I can hear you,” 

“Oh, good, so—wait, hello?” Your voice shifts in volume and proximity, as if you pulled your phone from your ear to check the call screen, then brought it back, “Oh, sorry. I-I thought I had accidentally called someone else… nevermind.” Instantly, Jisung realizes instantly that you must have recognized his voice. It makes sense, seeing as you’re used to hearing it specifically on calls. You seem to show no further suspicion as you continue speaking, though, but perhaps, he should keep talking on the phone with you to a minimum. 

“Do you think you can make it? Otherwise I can go work on my own. I saw your text and instantly booked the room. Sorry for not checking in with you first,” 

“I’ll meet you there,” He replies quickly, grimacing at the instinctual effort it takes to try and make his voice deeper. 

“Okay! Great. I’ll see you there, then.” You hang up, and then your text message comes through with the lab room information just minutes later. 

Jisung all but lunges out of his chair and rushes to face himself in the mirror, taking in his reflection. Besides his hair that looks slightly disheveled, he looks alright. He doesn’t want to make you wait long for him, so he quickly grabs his laptop and his notes, shoves them all into his bag, and flies out of his dorm room with the laces of his sneakers left untied.  

In the brightly, yellow-lit hallway, Mark and Chenle are popping out of their respective rooms, a basketball clutched under the younger boy’s arm.

“We were just about to come grab you,” Chenle starts, “Let’s play some ball. Jeno’s meeting us at the court,”

“Can’t,” Jisung shakes his head, “I’m going to the library,” he tries to not get offended at the way the two boys snort loudly in disbelief, looking at each other as if they’ve both had the same thought. 

“Yeah, right.” Chenle scoffs. 

With a blink, Jisung replies meekly, “I’m serious.” 

“Since when do you go to the library?” Mark brows pinch and he adds, “It’s the start of term. You’re already studying?”

“Since now, I guess. I have a project for a class so I’m gonna go meet up with my partner at the library, but I’ll catch you guys later.” 

“Alright, alright. Oh—remember there’s a party next week at Jaehyun’s frat for syllabus week.” 

“Yeah, I’ll be there.” His answer doesn’t seem to fully convince Mark, Chenle, or even himself, but they seem satisfied enough, because they let Jisung go without any more pestering. He flies down the flight of stairs and out the front door of the dormitory. 

The cold September air is biting at this time in the evening, feeling particularly cool on the apples of his cheek, which glow from the light layer of sweat that develops during his jog over to the library. It’s a considerable distance away, which is part of the reason why he, in his two years of being a student at the university, has never seriously stepped foot inside of it. Studying in his room is much more convenient, but you seem to like the library, so the twenty-minute-walk there, or in this case, fifteen-minute-jog, will simply have to be adopted as a new way to get in some brief exercise a few times a week. 

More than likely, you have already arrived, and Jisung doesn’t want to make you wait too long for him, especially since there’s a two-hour time limit on the room and he intends to spend as much time with you there as he can. He wipes his cheeks with his gray sleeves and climbs up the stairs of the building quickly, swiping his student card at the door and stepping inside. 

The ceiling is massively tall, seemingly taller than when he once saw it during freshman orientation, and the endless rows of shelves are filled with books, ranging from thin, colorful novels to thick, leather-bound classics. It’s quieter than he expects it to be, even for a library, and he clearly can hear the pitter patter of his feet as he follows the sign labeled ‘Study Rooms and Computer Labs.’ 

The guy at the reception desk in this section seems to be a volunteer, his student ID and name tag shining on his shirt. He glances up from his book when Jisung approaches, nodding once. There’s an awkward silence that feels rather loud as Jisung fumbles with his phone, flipping it between his clammy hands as he searches for your message. 

“Computer Lab 4C?” 

Wordlessly, the boy nods again, then slides over a clip-board with a sign-in sheet clamped to it. 

It’s surprising to see how many lab spots are filled up so early into the term, names scribbled along the lines and time-slots. Your name stands out, partly because of your familiar handwriting, but particularly because of the empty line beside it, where he signs in before handing the clip-board back. 

“Down the hall, second door on your right.” 

It’s Jisung’s turn to bob his head once and the boy looks back down at his book. He makes his way down the hall until he reaches the correctly labeled door. His hand reaches for the handle, but he withdraws it. Should he knock? Or maybe send you a text? Or both? 

To: 555-111-0205

hey again. i’m outside :) Sent at 6:18 PM.

The door creaks open from the taps of his knuckles bumping against it, and he peeks his head in timidly, finding you sitting in one of the desk chairs, nearly hidden behind your laptop and a stack of books. You look up over the screen, eyes squinting in a smile. 

“Oh, I had left the door open for you,” you stand up, holding out a cup for him, “and I got you coffee… didn’t know how you liked it so I just got you the same thing I order,” 

There’s a fluttering in his stomach as he sets his bag down. There’s no chance he can manage to meet your eyes after such a gesture so he casts them to the ground instead, graciously reaching out to receive with both hands the drink you offer him, “You didn’t have to,” he mumbles, “but thank you. I’m sure your order is great,” 

“I wanted to! It’s just—I mean, I did drag you out of your room in the cold and on really short notice—A hot coffee was the least I could do,” you shrug, “One of my friends works at the cafe and I was there doing some work for my literature class before I got your message and I figured I’d grab us both something before I headed over here… Sorry, I’m talking too much. Here, sit down.” 

He’s not exactly sure what to say, so he takes his seat beside you in silence, but not without a small smile decorating his face. The notes he had taken down to show you are retrieved from his bag, as well as his laptop. There’s a low screech of your chair dragging across the floor, and he turns to find you’ve scooted closer and you're leaning forward with your cheek resting on your palm, eyes intently looking at his research. 

“It isn’t much. I’m sure whatever you found is much more substantial, but I couldn’t show up empty handed.” Jisung explains, sliding the paper over to you. As your eyes scan the page, you make a few comments along the lines of ‘Oh, this is a good point,’ or ‘We should mention this.’

You seem to be very carefully reading his work. Meanwhile, he takes advantage of your preoccupation to let his eyes rake over your person. 

The first thing he notices is that you’re wearing a different cardigan, and he suddenly remembers your black one is still on his desk, unwashed and covered in his cum. Your hair looks soft, and when you mindlessly swing it over your shoulder, he catches a whiff of your lavender scented hair wash, and it makes him gnaw the inside of his cheek. You’re not quite close enough for him to catch the perfume you’ve decided to wear tonight, though he can vividly picture the gentle florals that linger still on your cardigan. His eyes trail down, and it’s only then that he notices your skirt—or blatantly, the length of your skirt. Your smooth thighs are exposed, full and fleshy and pressed together, and he suddenly wishes they were wrapped around his head. 

“Jisung? You okay?” 

“I–Yeah, sorry.” It’s clear that you’ve noticed his staring, and he all but rips his eyes away in embarrassment, “I was just wondering if you were cold,” He gestures down at your legs shyly, pretending the content he’d written on the paper was more interesting the sight of your plush thighs. 

For a moment he expects some harsh comment or outburst, but you laugh instead, smoothing the material down a bit, “No, not in here, at least. And the walk over was short, so,” His lips are pursed and his cheeks are burning, but you spare him from any further humiliation when you reach across him to turn the page over and quietly gasp, muttering some surprise under your breath at how extensive his work is. “This is really good. We can use pretty much all of it.” 

Failing to hide his beaming at your praise, he snaps his head over to you, “You think so?” 

“Yeah, I mean—,” The screen of your laptop changes over to a page of notes, “I pretty much wrote down all the same things. I’m actually so relieved, I was worried I might get paired up with someone who wasn’t gonna contribute.” 

“Bet you’re glad you didn’t switch out of the class now, huh?” 

Distracted in the notes and in the taste of his coffee, he misses your quick, confused glance his way. Smoothly recovering before he notices, you slowly nod and present to him the layout where you had already taken the liberty to assign him his designated parts. Not that he expected anything else; it’s endearing to see his name labeled over specific sections, color-coded in a blue, bolded font. He wastes no time in pulling up the screen of his computer, exchanging emails with you so the two of you can get to work on the shared document.

The time passes quicker than he hopes, and he realizes just how much he likes spending time with you. Talking with you online is one thing, but sitting beside you as you sip your drink and hum mindlessly, fingers typing away or flipping pages in a book? Completely different game. He’s sure that if it wasn’t because he relieved himself earlier today, he might have popped a boner from the simple act of being in your presence. 

Every once in a while, you make an occasional comment regarding a point or two you thought was worth mentioning or adding, and he’d oblige, making a note of it and sharing his thoughts here and there. Occasionally, he manages to steal a look at your thighs, which he swears you’re bouncing and squeezing together on purpose, but for the most part he keeps his focus on the task at hand. 

Towards the end of the night, there’s a moment where your hands brush his as you point something out on his screen, and Jisung swears he’s never felt more like a teenage boy in his life. He practically flinches at the contact, failing to mask his awkward reaction and pretending he really meant to fix his hair.

Bidding you farewell is possibly the most difficult of the tasks this evening, even more so than pretending he isn’t completely infatuated with and aroused by you for a whole two hours. When you stand from your seat and walk with him out of the study room, and subsequently, out of the library and into the cold, Jisung faces another of his many dilemmas related to you. He’s not sure if he should offer to walk you back to your dorm, or at the very least halfway there. Perhaps, offering you his jacket would be appropriate, since your skirt wasn’t doing much of a job at keeping you warm. 

“You live close by?” 

“Yeah! Just a 5 minute walk,” you point your index finger, “In that dorm right over there.” 

Jisung nods once, then decides to indulge his impulses. “Here,” he slides his hoodie off with a little less coordination than he would’ve liked, holding it out for you to take, “so you aren’t cold.” 

He can’t tell if your cheeks are red from the temperature again or from his gesture, but he hopes it’s the latter. The moment you take his sweater, pretty eyes wide in thanks, he sucks in a breath. It’s much chillier now that the sun is gone, and he fights the urge to chatter his teeth when he offers you a lopsided smile. 

“T-thank you,” you tie the sleeves around your waist, covering your lap. 

 “I’ll see you in class?” he asks. 

“Yeah,” you nod, flashing him a final grin before you spin on your heel to head home. 

The twenty-minute-walk-fifteen-minute-jog back to his room feels eternal. All of his hair is standing on end, but picking up his pace too much means that the icy wind, which has so graciously decided to blow in his direction, would just become harsher. His palms soak up the little warmth on his stomach, tucked under his t-shirt, as he alternates between speed-walking and jogging. The minutes drag on and on until finally, his building comes into view and he breaks into a run. 

•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ

The following morning when he walks into his astronomy class, he follows his usual routine of checking for you in your seat and is almost distraught when he finds it to be empty. It’s not like you to miss a class, and he contemplates reaching for his phone to check-in on you. It isn't until he pans his vision over to his own chair that he spots you. You’re accompanied by Karina and her partner, Heesung, taking up the empty seats beside his own. 

On your desk sit two coffee cups like the ones from last night, and he pulls his lip between his teeth to hide the grin that fights to break out.

You look up when you spot him, and Karina and Heesung look up, too. 

“Hi…” 

“Hi! Jisung, right?” Karina extends her hand out and he takes it, nodding to confirm, “I’m Karina and this is Heesung.” He mumbles another small hello to the boy, who acknowledges him before looking back at his computer.

“Good morning,” you greet as he sits, placing his cup on his desk. “You never told me whether you liked it or not, but I figured you’d grow to like it eventually.”

“I-thanks but,” 

“I know: Didn’t have to, but I wanted to. So just say thanks, yeah?” 

There’s a familiar burning on his cheeks that always seems to make an appearance when you’re around, but he doesn’t bother masking it this time. 

“I wanted to ask you if you would be free to study tonight?” 

Instantly, he bobs his head up and down, and you book the study room on your computer just moments before Professor Hwang strides inside the classroom, her glasses on the tip of her sharp, pointed nose. 

•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ

The frat house where the seniors stay is practically next door to Jisung’s dormitory, which is why when Mark, Chenle, and Jeno come banging on his door on Saturday night, he realizes he can’t use walking so far in the cold as an excuse to stay home. He also can’t use studying as an excuse anymore, since Mark had already caught him leaving the dorm a few times throughout the week to go study with you. That, and he ran into Jeno as he was entering the library just the night before. 

“You’ve been studying plenty,” they’d say, or “We told you about the party last week, no way you’re not going.” 

Anyway—the point is, he’ll have to endure tonight, despite his wishes to stay close to his PC for the chance that you’d want to hop into a game. He’d prefer to spend the night talking with you, but that’ll just have to wait until tomorrow. With a somber look on his face, he shrugs on a jacket and opens the door for his friends, who practically drag him outside. 

Jeno slings his arm over the taller boy’s shoulders as if to prevent him from fleeing, and the four of them climb down the stairs and onto the path toward the frat. If Jisung strains his ears, he can already pick up on the sounds of the party, even from here. 

“You think Chaewon will be there?” Mark asks no one in particular, but the boys all respond simultaneously with groans of distaste. 

“You dated her three semesters ago, why do you care?” Chenle starts, “isn’t she seeing Jungwoo now, anyway?”  

“That’s exactly why I care,” Mark grumbles, foot kicking a rock along the pavement. “He’s one of the RAs. If he’s there—” 

“He’s always there,” Chenle interjects, earning a glare. 

“—then she’ll be there, too.” 

“So, what happened with… what’s her name,  Minjeong? Why don’t you hang out with her?” 

“Nah,” He turns to Jeno, “She’s sweet and all, but I found out from Giselle that her and Chaewon are friends, so,” 

There’s a chorus of understanding, albeit a bit pitiful, “aah’s” and “oh’s” as the building comes into view. A few people are gathered at and around the entrance while others litter the parking lot with phones and solo cups in their hands as they wait for friends. Among them, and Jisung has to do a double take to make sure, he spots Karina, who waves someone down from the direction of the main courtyard. For a moment, he thinks it might be you who appears from between the treeline, but it’s Heesung who jogs over to meet her and he realizes how silly his thought was in the first place. 

In the months he’s known you, you’ve never once brought up a party. In retrospect, you don’t seem like the type to like partying at all. He can picture you clearly now, tearing through textbooks or novels for your literature class, or maybe even typing away to him on Discord and asking if he was online. 

He isn’t and can’t be tonight, and he’s very sorry about that, for the record. 

Maneuvering through the crowd of tipsy college students isn’t too difficult,and neither is their entry. The door is propped open, and Jaehyun, with his signature snapback that he wears backwards on his dark hair, calls them over from the drink bar. 

“First problem I see here,” he starts, “is that none of you have a cup in your hand.” 

“We’ve barely made it through the door, man,”  Mark laughs, clapping up Jaehyun and moving aside so he can greet the rest of the guys. 

“That’s no excuse, you should be sipping on something by now.” He waves his arm, “Take a look around, boys! This is what life is gonna look like for you guys next year—and the year after for you, Jisung.” 

Jisung gives a curt, disinterested nod amidst being handed some fruity, fizzy, white claw resemblant that probably wouldn’t taste much different from an Alka-Seltzer. He cracks it open upon being prompted to by Jaehyun, who initiates a “cheers” between the friend group. The moment the alcohol touches his tongue, Jisung grimaces, taking a few long chugs in hopes that the effect will kick in quicker and make the long night that awaits him a little less long. 

“Do you know if Chaewon is here?” 

Wordlessly, Jaehyun fixes his cap and points a single finger toward the couch, where Chaewon sits besides Jungwoo, leaning in to hear him over the music and giggling at whatever he says in her ear. The boys look over at the couple, then quickly glance back at Mark, whose face falls despite the fact that he knew to expect this. 

“Tough,” Jeno gives him a pat on the shoulder, “Hope you have better luck the rest of the night. I’ve gotta bounce,” 

“Yo, what do you mean bounce?” 

He gestures toward a girl standing near the beer pong table, who looks slightly familiar to Jisung, though he can’t quite put his finger on it, and smirks, “She smiled at me the moment we walked in. I’ll see you later, but I honestly hope I don’t.” 

The realization that his friends, in search of their hook-ups for the night, would eventually be abandoning him one-by-one kicks in just then, inviting Jisung to down the rest of his bubbly drink in one go. 

Mark rolls his eyes, “You ever notice Jeno is always the first one to get a girl?” His comment earns a few hums of agreement.

“I’m gonna go find Jaemin,” with his phone clutched in his hand, Chenle turns towards the door, “he just texted me he’s outside with Sullyoon and her friend.” 

“Wait, Jaemin is—he’s setting you up and not me?” Chenle only shrugs at Mark’s question, replying with a blunt and concise “yeah.” 

“I’m not a dog like Jeno though, so I’ll definitely see you guys later.” 

As if noticing he was facing the same unfortunate fate as Jisung, Mark turns to the youngest boy with a fearful look in his eyes. Jisung only shakes his head and takes a quick look around, “I’m not planning on hooking up with anyone here, so…” At this, the boy sighs in relief, handing Jisung another drink in solidarity. The two lean against the counter as Jaehyun looks between them, snorting. 

“Mark, there’s so many girls here.” 

“I know, but—” 

“But Chaewon.” 

Mark nods, echoing Jaehyun in a quiet, maybe even embarrassed voice, “But Chaewon…” 

“Don’t worry, I get it,” he adds sympathetically, “I’m caught up on my ex, too.” 

“Uh…” there’s a pause. “Which one?” This comment lands Mark a shove, playful, for the most part. He rubs his shoulder and hisses while Jaehyun, on the other hand, sloshes around the little liquid left in his cup and grabs the closest bottle of alcohol to him, along with whichever random mixer he finds first.

“The only one that really mattered.” He tilts his newly filled red cup back to drink from it, but his eyes peek over the rim and he pulls it from his lips to sigh out,  “Speak of the devil and she doth come,” he raises his brows and announces, “there she is now.” 

Following his line of sight, Jisung trails his vision toward the front entrance and at once, the sight makes each and every one of his limbs seize up. There’s a twisting and turning in his stomach that almost invites the seltzer he chugged to make a reappearance, and he’s pretty sure the color has drained from his face as he watches you walk inside the frat house behind Karina and Heesung. 

So many things go through his mind in such a short amount of time that he fears he may have had some sort of out-of-body experience or hallucination episode; it wasn't really you he was seeing, it couldn’t be. The way your skirt clings to your hips makes him grip his cup tighter within his sweating palm, and the lacy, corset top you’ve decided to wear, which shows off a tasteful bit of cleavage, causes him to swallow down the saliva that had pooled on his tongue. 

It was a more provocative outfit than he’d even seen you wear, and if it wasn’t for the fact that Jaehyun opened his mouth to speak, he’s sure he would’ve instantly become bricked up. 

“And of course she’s wearing that shirt…” Jaehyun fixes his cap for the second time tonight and straightens out his shirt, “Alright, wish me luck.” 

It’s not like Jisung would have interjected anyway, he didn’t really have the grounds to, but he couldn’t even entertain the thought before Jaehyun headed in your direction with decisive confidence. Part of him hopes he was referring to someone else as his ex, perhaps even Karina, since there isn’t another girl in your immediate vicinity besides her, but his bit of hope is crushed as he spots Heesung’s hand intertwined in hers. Surely, Jaehyun wouldn’t be coming up to her if she showed up with someone to his party. It leaves him to reach his regretful conclusion just as his friend and you make eye contact, recognition flashing across your features, along with something else. 

Unable to torture himself further by watching your exchange, Jisung tears his eyes away and grabs another drink to make this very, very long night ahead of him somewhat bearable. He turns to Mark, who he didn’t even realize had been talking this whole time, but the loud music and the cloudiness in his mind muffle out his speech. 

“—I mean this just sucks! I guess we still have each other, maybe we can find some girls who—” 

When did you even date Jaehyun? You hadn’t mentioned him once in the months he had known you. And also, why  did you date Jaehyun? Not that there was anything wrong with him, other than his habit of cycling through girls every semester. Mark’s “Which one?” comment had some truth to it, but he would have never expected you to have been on Jaehyun’s roster. It takes him a second to remember that Jaehyun is still his friend, but even then, he can’t fight the bitterness that settles in his bones. What did he mean when he said that you were the only one that mattered? How significant was your relationship with him? There’s too many questions circling his mind, and it isn’t until he downs the fifth drink that they start to blur. 

Currently, he’s passing the time conversing with Mark and following him around the party, but more importantly, avoiding you in fear he’ll steal a glance and you’ll be locking lips with your ex. He spots Jaehyun by the bathroom a bit into the night, but thankfully, you aren’t near him. It’s in the middle of a beer pong game with Mark when he dares to glance around in search of you. 

First, he spots Karina and Heesung, making out on the couch where Chaewon and Jungwoo once sat. You aren’t near them. Then he spots Jaemin and Chenle dancing with the girls they had met up with, but you aren’t dancing, either. 

He’s relieved to find you aren’t with Jaehyun when he spots him, finding instead that his friend is flirting it up with a different girl who is certainly not you. The sight completely pisses him off, and somehow makes him feel immense relief simultaneously. Right around this time, he decides he’s had more than enough of the party. You aren’t here anymore, and Jaehyun’s face is making him fucking sick. Mark is slurring his speech enough that he wouldn’t notice if Jisung just slipped, so he does just that, though he does make sure to mention to Chenle that he’s leaving on his way out so he can keep an eye on Mark.  

Outside, the cold is unbearable. The previously crowded lot is empty for the most part, except for a few people puffing clouds of smoke into the air by a bench. Not even the alcohol in his system is enough to warm him up, so he can’t even imagine how a joint could be worth sitting outside for.

The only other person sitting outside is squatted down by the curb with their knees curled up to their chest. As the autumn leaves crack under Jisung’s feet, they turn their head around. 

“I told you I don’t wanna—Jisung?” 

Your big eyes widen in his direction, and you shoot up from the ground. Jisung’s brow lowers in concern and he notices the only thing you have to cover up is a flimsy cardigan. You and your damn, flimsy cardigans. 

“What are you doing out here?” 

“Sorry for snapping I—sorry,” you shiver involuntarily as a gust of wind blows through, wrapping your arms around yourself, “I thought you were someone else.” 

There isn't a sliver of hesitation before Jisung shrugs off his leather jacket and begins to wrap it around you, grumbling, “Are you crazy? You must be freezing,” 

“I’m fine—“ 

“This should help,” 

“But- Jisung, how many of your jackets am I gonna take—” 

“As many as you need to.” Your lack of a response makes him look back up to meet your eyes, round and much warmer than the rest of you was right now. He clears his throat, guiding your sleeves into the arms of the jacket as he jokes, “or until you bring your own.” 

You smile, muttering a small ‘thank you’ as the warmth engulfs you, along with the smell of him and some cheap cologne only a college student would buy. He’s tugging the collar closer to cover up your exposed neck and chest, eyes flickering down at your bare skin despite being well aware that you’re looking. Where this newfound boldness came from tonight, he doesn’t know. What he does know is that his boldness is always rather short-lived when it comes to you, and tends to appear and disappear like random spurts of energy—he’ll take advantage of it this once. Especially now that he knows you’re Jaehyun’s ex and the most he might even get to do is gawk at you, he intends to make it worth it. 

“You must be freezing now, though,” you start, “should we go somewhere warm?” 

“How about the library?” 

You laugh, looking at him in disbelief, “The library isn’t open at this time, much less on the weekend,” “Right…” 

“Wanna go to mine?” Your suggestion makes his breath hitch for a second, but he manages to respond with decent clarity. 

“You live by the library, though. That’s like a half-hour walk. I don’t think you’ll make it that far without turning into an icicle,” 

“Well, I don’t really wanna go back inside…” he knows why, so he offers something else. 

“My dorm is five minutes away. We could go there if you want, b-but if you’d rather go somewhere else—”

“Okay,” you nod eagerly, “let’s go.” 

As Jisung leads the way, speed-walking to beat the chill that spreads through his newly uncovered limbs, he turns his face to you, watching as you tuck the lower half of your face into his coat. 

“I don’t know if you want to work on the project or—” 

“God no,” you huff, rolling your eyes, “I’m not that much of a buzzkill, dude.” You jog a little to catch up to his longer strides, “Besides, I have like three shots of Pink Whitney in me,” 

“Foul.” 

“I know. Can’t think about a project right now,” 

“I’ve had a bit to drink, too.” he admits.

“I can tell. You’re stumbling.” 

He snaps his head around, down to his feet, then back to you. “What? Am I?” 

There’s a small, stupid smile on your face as you shake your head. “No.”

He can’t pinpoint why this banter with you is so easy, why it feels so right. Or perhaps, he can, but regardless, his heart leaps in his chest as he scoffs, not fighting the shit-eating grin that spreads on his frosted cheeks. 

"It’s that building right over there,” he points.

“You weren’t kidding when you said it was close,”

The two of you climb the stairs and he opens the main door for you, watching you sigh out in bliss as you step into the warmth of the hall. You bounce around in a cute way that once more tugs at his heart-strings, still looking all puffed up and adorable in his jacket that entirely engulfs your frame. He leads you up another flight of stairs and onto the floor his room is at, and once the two of you stop in front of his door, he pats his jean pockets. 

“Oh my uh- my keys are in the pocket of the jacket.” 

You mimic his recent action, patting around until you find his keys, holding them out for him to take. 

Somewhat awkwardly, he fumbles with them until he manages to fit it into the lock, opening the door with one hand. He gestures for you to enter his room with a small shrug, “Make yourself at home.” 

As you step inside, Jisung makes it a point to quietly thank whatever higher power compelled him to make his bed this afternoon. The rest of his room wasn’t perfectly organized by any means, but at the very least, his bed, which you now sat at the foot of with your legs bouncing, was neatly made. 

“You have your own room?” You mutter in surprise as you look around the small space and notice the lack of a second bed. The tall boy beside you just shrugs again, toeing off his shoes in the corner as he pulls the door closed. 

“Yeah, uh… I’m one of the RAs for the sophomore class.” 

“Wow,” you sigh, “I wish! I mean, I love sharing a room with Karina, but it’s nice to have space for myself sometimes.” 

“That’s why you’re always at the library?” 

You nod, sliding your palms across his duvet, “It’s nice and quiet,” your fingers move to grip and release the material, and he blinks harshly to erase the sight of that from his mind before it causes him to spiral. It didn’t prove to be very useful, though, because your still-exposed thighs move and press together, just as they did at the library, and his dick gives a little twitch in response.

“I’ll get you some clothes to change into, that way you’re more comfortable.” he decides, more for his sake than yours. You don’t answer, continuing to look around, taking in the details of his computer that flashes in a bunch of different colors. 

“You know I gave up extra storage in my bedside table to be able to keep my PC? I let Karina take it to her side of the room so I’d have space for my setup.” 

Rummaging through his drawers, he pipes up, “you game?” as if it wasn’t something he already knew about you. 

“I love it. I stayed here for most of the summer just because I had my computer here.”  

Jisung picks out a pair of sweats for you and one for himself, along with a t-shirt he knows he recently washed, then he turns, handing it over to you. “I’ll change in the bathroom down the hall and then wait outside. You can crack the door open when you’re done,” 

“Thank you, Jisung.” 

There’s a gentle sincerity in your tone that makes him wanna say “anything for you,” but he settles for pursing his lips instead, leaving to let you change before he can embarrass himself with any baseless comment you wouldn’t really get. The effect of the drinks still hadn’t completely faded, and he fears he’s capable of saying just about any of his stupid thoughts out loud right about now. 

You weren’t completely sober either, not by any means. The trashy vodka your ex offered you in an attempt to reconcile was as bitter as the end of your relationship with him, and it was flowing through your veins and giving you that light-headed buzz. You stand up and slip off your boots and Jisung’s jacket, along with your skirt. Your top requires a bit more precision, the lace getting twisted and tangled in your uncoordinated fingers. There’s little huffs and puffs of frustration that leave your lips during your struggle, and you’d almost consider asking for help if it wasn’t completely inappropriate. 

Finally, though, you manage to get it off and slip on the change of clothes Jisung has so graciously provided. They’re warm and they smell good, and they’re much more comfortable than your outfit which is now folded on Jisung’s gaming chair, alongside your purse. 

When you look up in admiration of his impressive keyboard, which looks to be custom made, and your eyes trail up to his monitor, you notice something on the corner of the screen. The mindless doodle you had drawn beside your phone number that day in class had been very carefully cut out and stuck onto his screen with tape. 

“You okay?”

His voice calls from outside, quietly as if not to disturb you even though it’s you who is occupying his room. 

“Yeah, I’m almost done!”

“I thought that she was gonna assign them on Friday?”

Sung had asked you that on call, in regards to the constellation project you mentioned you wanted to start working on. Not Jisung, Sung. Sung, who is not in your astronomy class and would have had no way of knowing when or even what your professor would be assigning. 

“You’re Ji-sun, right?” 

“—Sung.”

The nickname sounded very right coming from his lips, from his voice. You never gave his nickname too much thought, because truly, Sung could just be a display name. And if it is his real name, it could stand for anything: Sungmin, Sungwoo, Daesung, Ilsung, Jaesung… Jisung. 

And then, you recall the time you spoke on the phone—specifically, the time you had to do a double take at your screen to make sure you hadn’t actually called Sung. It was the first time you had spoken to Jisung on the phone, and it’s the only way you had even spoken to Sung… something about it seemed so, so strangely familiar. 

Could it be… 

“Alright, I’m done!” Your announcement comes after the realization that he’s been waiting outside for a few minutes already. 

“Coming in…” He warns, eyes still cast to the ground in case you weren’t decent. They slowly make their way up, and something flashes across his features at the sight of you. You try to ignore it, still preoccupied by your growing suspicions. His computer is on… meaning…

“Let me let Karina know I left… I kinda just walked out on her.” 

Jisung nods and takes a cautious seat on his bed a few feet away from you. 

As you open the discord app on your phone, you scroll to the top to find his contact and type out a simple Hi, clicking send with your heart beating faster than usual. It’s an impulsive act, but you can’t help yourself. If there’s even a chance… 

Instantly, his screen lights up and through his headphones you hear the familiar chime of the notification coming in. 

“I knew it! I fucking knew it!” 

If it’s possible, Jisung’s face grows even paler than it already was naturally, and even more gloom than it appeared earlier in the night when he identified you as Jaehyun’s ex. All of his features are alert and in shock, watching as you spin around to face him. 

“Sung? Right? That’s you?” 

He’s struggling to read your expression, and it’s beyond obvious. The only change in his demeanor is the now tensed up shoulders and the redness that takes over the white on his cheeks. 

“I—” Are you mad? Should he apologize?

“Did you know all this time? That it was me, I mean?” 

He nods slowly, unable to find the appropriate words to say. 

Two things happen just then. First, your hand smacks his arm, hard. “You fucking idiot!” and Second, you topple into his arms, hugging him. Initially, his hands hesitate to wrap around you, hovering above your waist as you squeeze his neck. 

“You’re not mad?” He asks shyly. You shake your head against him, then lift off with your hands on his shoulders to take a real good look at his face. 

“No! I’m so glad, I thought I was going crazy. Why didn’t you tell me?” 

He shrugs again, a gesture he seems to do a lot around you. 

“Since when did you know it was me?” 

“Since I heard you speak on the very first day in class. I recognized your voice.” 

Your eyes soften at this small confession, and you look back towards his desk, “So, this is where you were this whole time while we played? This close? A twenty-minute walk away?” You shoot up from the bed and cross the small distance to the desk, swiping an index finger along the surface, then his mouse, then his keyboard, and all of his other equipment. Your eyes are beaming, looking around and familiarizing yourself with his things. All the things you wondered about him are now laid out in front of you, and it’s exhilarating. 

“I was so excited when I found out,” 

“You should’ve told me,” you repeat, still taking in his pictures and personal items, your profound curiosity surfacing within you. 

“I was worried about making a good first impression, you’re…” 

“I’m…?” you press, turning to him for a moment. 

“You’re really pretty in person.” 

In that moment when you turn away to hide your blush, with the words “you’re really cute in person, too” ready to spill from your tongue in a sweet and shy whisper, a small black pile on the corner of his dresser catches your eye. 

“What’s that—” 

“Oh nothing! It’s just—” 

“Is that my cardigan?” 

Forget distraught, forget embarrassed, forget every possible synonym for the word humiliation. Not a single one would do what he’s feeling in this moment even a sliver of justice. Jisung is convinced his soul has left his body, that he’s passed on or that the ground has swallowed him whole. In fact, he’d prefer it that way. He has never felt more panic in his life as you quickly approach the cum-stained cardigan that he took from you, that he pleasured himself with countless times, that he still hasn’t washed…

“You dropped it in class, and I-I meant to give it back to you, you know, a-after I washed it, but then—” 

As you turn the material over in your hands, taking note of and examining the stains, Jisungs breath completely cuts off. You spin slowly on your heel, facing him. There’s an unreadable expression on your face, and it takes every bit of the little pride he has left to not squeeze his eyes shut. 

“Are these—” His voice is no more than a sputtering squeak, “I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry. Fuck, you must think—” 

“Jisung.” 

“I didn’t mean to keep it for so long, or-or at all, really, it’s just—”

“Jisung.” He’s pretty sure you can hear him gulp. “Were you using my cardigan to get off?” 

“I-” 

“Were you?” You ask sternly. 

He sucks in a breath, unable to look at you any longer as the faintest of yeses leaves his pouty lips. 

There’s a moment of silence. A terribly long, excruciating moment of silence where Jisung can think of no way to make this up to you. He’s beyond ashamed, palms clasped together and sweating, face red with horror, inside of his cheek clamped tightly between his teeth, the whole nine miles. So much for mulling over how he’d reveal who he was to you, and so much for all the overthinking he did, all the times he planned out exactly what to say to you and how. Now, it’s all coming to an end because of this damned cardigan. He should’ve just washed it and given it back to you after the first time—no, he shouldn’t have used it at all. His mind is filled with thoughts of everything and nothing at the same time, and he’s already beginning to mourn the loss of your friendship when you say the unthinkable: 

“Show me.”

*. * ·

taglist: @heartlvrrss @albedoloser @zp00ks @simpforarmihn @toroufriteh @quokkatss @jising-jisang-jisung @camstqr @tangerinehyuck @ma-riiii @minlvrpage @hancafe

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#nct imagines #nct fluff #nct x reader #nct fanfic #nct #nct reactions #nct moodboard #nct dream #nct 127 #nct smut #park jisung fluff #park jisung #jisung x reader #park jisung scenarios #nct dream reactions #nct dream fluff #nct dream x reader #jisung imagines #jisung smut #nct jisung #nct icons #park jisung smut #nct jisung smut #catboyieejeno #catboyieejeno gameboy #jisung nct #nct dream imagines #jisung scenarios #nct dream scenarios

[spamgyu]

BEAUTIFUL // Hansol Drabble

They had been eyeing each other the whole night.

Her gaze catching his first when her friend had notified her that one of the groomsmen had been staring from across the room.

It started off as sneaky glances all while the bride and groom continued with reception program, but the one second glances soon turned into lingering stares – a smirk playing on his lips each time their eyes would lock.

"Oh my god, please just go talk to him." Her friend urged as she caught her sending over a wink to man standing by the edge of the dance floor; looking down to hide his blush.

"A lady never makes the first move." She joked, toying with the straw of her drink; leaning back against the bar counter – waiting for her friend to receive her margarita from the bar tender.

She had only taken her attention off of him for a brief moment, taking a sip of her Paloma as her friend went on to talk about the floral arrangements at the celebration.

"Orchids who would have thou– gotta go." Her eyes wide, scurrying away from her without another word – leaving y/n dumbfounded.

"Hey."

Y/n jumped at the low voice that spoke behind her.

He had enough of their silent game, finally finding the courage to approach her – all with the help of Chan's nagging of course. He nearly stumbled on his own feet when his friend lightly shoved him towards the direction of the girl, reaching up to loosen his tie as he made his way to the her.

"I uh– Hansol." He held his hand out, the same soft smile he had been sending her on his lips.

"Y/n." She took his hand in hers. "I thought I would have to wink at you another time before you made your way over."

Shyly rubbing the back of his neck, Hansol let out a soft chuckle. "I'm shy."

"Me too, but my drink gave me a little boost of confidence." She brought her glass up to their eye line.

"Glad it did." He hummed. "You look beautiful, by the way."

Now it was her turn to blush, looking down at her feet to hide the redness of her cheeks.

They were absolutely pathetic.

Flirting like two shy teenagers.

"You're beautiful too." She smiled, meeting his eyes once again.

God, his stare could easily melt her into a puddle.

"Thank you?" His held tilted at the compliment, being the first time to be called beautiful by anyone.

"Would you prefer being called cute?"

"Beautiful is fine." He nodded, his smile had now grown to a full one.

Yep, definitely putty in his hands.

"There's no plus one I have to worry about, right?" Hansol didn't know where this boost of confidence had come from, not wanting to miss another opportunity of getting to know the girl stood before him.

She shook her head no.

"No one will be mad if I asked for your number?"

"Not a single soul."

"Perfect.

#VERNON BRAIN ROT IS SO REAL HERE IS A SMALL FLUFF #puking #spam drabbles #vernon x you #vernon fic #hansol vernon chwe #chwe hansol x reader #hansol x you #hansol fluff #hansol x reader #hansol scenarios #chwe hansol #vernon #svt scenarios #vernon x reader #vernon fluff #svt fluff

[alotofpockets]

Can we go home? | Katie McCabe

Pairing: Katie McCabe x Reader

Prompt: "Can we go home?"

Masterlist | Woso masterlist | words: 1k

Katie had asked you to be her plus one to the house warming party her teammate Leah Williamson was throwing. You had only been dating Katie for a couple of months, and were excited to see her teammates again. You had met the Arsenal girls on a couple of occasions now, and they were some of the nicest people you had ever met. 

When you arrive at Leah’s new house, you and Katie go around greeting everyone with a hug before Leah gives the both of you a quick tour. You loved her new place and were sure to tell her so, after the tour you joined the others back downstairs. You started catching up with some of the girls, while Katie went to check out the dj set Leah had recently purchased. Of course, Katie urged Leah to show off her dj skills to her big audience and the party really started. Music started blasting through the room and alcoholic beverages were passed around. 

You were enjoying yourself at first, but the longer you were at the party the more overstimulated you got. The sound of the music seemed to get louder and louder, drunk people that were unintentionally talking louder, and the many different conversations happening around you all started to mix and become too much. You decide to slip out the back unnoticed by the group in the living room.

The porch seating area was rather comfortable, you settled under a blanket and started scrolling on your phone. After a while the backdoor opens and Katie walks out, “There you are! I’ve been looking for you.” She sits down next to you, and you immediately lean into her warmth. “Why are you sitting out here? It’s getting pretty cold.” You shrug your shoulders, “It was just getting a bit too loud in there.” Katie’s brow furrows, “Are you wanting to go back in?” She asks, trying to figure out why you hadn’t said anything. “No, not really.” You say softly, scared of her response. “Oh, baby, why didn’t you say anything?” You looked up at her as if it was obvious why, “I didn’t want to ruin your night.” Katie looked perplexed. “Why would that ruin my night?” 

You read her face, trying to figure out if she’s joking or not. “Because, you are still having fun at the party and I don’t want you to have to leave because of me.” Katie starts to figure out what is happening. “Is this one of those things that your ex made you believe?” You nod in response. Katie shakes her head in disbelief. “Well, that is very toxic of them, and I am so sorry that they made you believe that.” She pulls you closer into her body and you snuggle into her. “Please tell me whenever you feel like you want to leave, I do not care if I am still having fun. If you are no longer having fun, or you’re no longer comfortable, I would rather go home and you be comfortable.” She tells you while rubbing her hands over your arms. “I would never make you stay because I am still having fun, your wellbeing matters more.” A few tears roll down your cheeks, overwhelmed with the comfort and support from your girlfriend.

Katie sits in silence with you for a moment, just holding you and making sure you know she meant what she said. “Would you like to sit here for a bit longer, or do you want to go home?” You take a deep breath, still a little scared that maybe Katie wouldn’t be honest about it being okay. “Can we go home?” Katie stands and helps you up, “Yeah, come one, let’s get our stuff.” She takes your hand and intertwines her fingers with yours. Before she walks back into the house, she kisses your lips softly. “Thank you for sharing that with me, I know it wasn’t easy.”

She keeps you close while you make your way through the crowd, making her way to Leah. “Hey Leah, we’re heading out. Thank you so much for tonight.” Katie says and hugs her goodnight, you follow and do the same. Katie grabs your hand and again and walks you to the little hallway, grabbing both of your coats before stepping out of the front door. She helps you put on your coat, you laugh at the gesture, but happily comply. After she zips it up she pecks your lips, “Let’s go home.”

Back at Katie’s home she walks you over to the couch, “Wait here.” A few minutes later she comes back with two cups of hot chocolate. “To warm up.” You once again cuddle into her, grateful for how she reacted to the situation. After you finished your hot chocolate, Katie placed the cups on the coffee table. When she sits back down you’ve turned your body her way. She places her arm over the back of the couch, waiting for you to share what was going through your mind. 

You study her facial features, smiling at how lucky you were to have met Katie. “What is it, darling?” She asks, placing her other hand on your knee. “Thank you for tonight, you are the best.” Katie smiles, “Of course, you don’t have to thank me for that.” You lean in and kiss her, moving your hand to the nape of her neck to pull her closer. Katie smiles into the kiss, and you feel your heart start being faster, this was the moment. You pull away slightly, looking into her sparkling eyes. “I love you.” You tell her for the first time. Katie’s smile grows, “I love you too.” Your heart warms, knowing that she felt as strongly about you as you did about her. Katie pulls your body into hers and holds you tight, placing soft kisses to your head. There might have been some downsides to this evening but you would always remember it as a good day, thanks to Katie.

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#pockets celebration #katie mccabe #katie mccabe imagine #katie mccabe x reader #awfc #arsenal wfc #arsenal women #arsenal wfc x reader #woso #woso x reader #woso imagine

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 51

part 1 | part 50 | ao3

Knowing the weirdness is coming doesn't make it less weird.

Steve clings to Jeff's warning like a lifeline in the days after the attack, as Eddie swings wildly from withdrawn and paranoid to brash and itching for a fight. One second he's tackling Steve in a public park, sweeping him off his feet and swinging in a wide, reckless circle, the next he's shooting dodgy glances over his shoulder and suggesting they come up with some kind of tapping code when they want to communicate the urge to kiss or hug in public.

His face is a mess for weeks.

He doesn’t want to talk about it.

Hardly wants to look at it — takes to avoiding mirrors and fucking Steve from behind, or turning off all the lights, or hiding his face behind his hair when he gets between Steve’s legs. Plays it off like he’s just being sexy, trying something new, ‘isn’t this exciting?’ But Steve’s pretty sure he just doesn’t want to see the worry in Steve’s eyes when their kisses hurt his face.

So Valentine's Day comes and goes, and Steve doesn't say it; doesn't say 'I love you,' because he's never sure he's going to get the version of Eddie who’s brave enough to say it back. They don't even do anything for the holiday, really, which kind of kills Steve, even if he won't admit it.

He can't help it; he's a sap.

They do share a heart-shaped box of chocolates in Eddie’s bed the day after, though. Led Zeppelin crooning softly from the record player, and Steve plays it off like he only bought them because they were half off, and Eddie gives him a gooey look and pushes him into the pillows. Blows him within an inch of his young life; smiles up at him at the end, lips slick and full and pretty. Steve thinks, maybe they're okay.

They’ll be okay.

Eddie may still be a little off, a little wobbly, but he’s laughing again, he’s silly and animated again, he’s playing guitar and making jokes, and—

And who is Steve to judge how a person, like, processes or whatever? At least Eddie’s not doing any late night demolition.

They’re gonna be just fine.

The last of the sickly yellow bruising slips away from Eddie's eye as the month comes to a close, so Steve decides to risk it. Asks Eddie out. A movie night, a proper date where Steve can pay for the milkshakes and let their thighs brush against each other when the theater lights go down.

And sure, they'll have to pretend it’s just two straight guys hanging out — do their tapping thing and keep a healthy distance, two bros being pals being buds being dudes — and that shit sucks, but it’s better than nothing.

Steve's never had to worry about PDA before. One more thing he won't admit is kind of slowly killing him; rope burn around his heart when he thinks about it too hard.

"What do you say?" he asks Eddie. They’re lounging on his couch, propped on opposite ends with their legs tangled in the middle. "You want to let me take you out to the city?"

Brookhaven isn't exactly the city so much as the closest suburb whose mall didn't get torpedoed by the commies, but there's a theater and some decent diners, and it's far enough away that they shouldn't run into any classmates looking to cause trouble.

Eddie gives him a wary look. “I don’t know,” he hedges, fingers coming up to worry the thin sliver of a scar under his chin.

Steve swallows the hurt. The twine chafing behind his ribs. "It's okay," he starts to say, but Eddie's eyes flare with defiance.

“Actually, fuck it,” he declares, slapping his knees as he stands up. Gets up onto the couch cushion, spreads his feet wide and puts his hands on his hips; Steve’s little metalhead superhero. Steve can't help his grin when Eddie shakes his hair out big and says, "Take me out and woo me, baby!"

—

part 52

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#trailer park steve au #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #my writing #my fic

[cloveswifey]

REAL TO ME - MATTHEO RIDDLE

Chapter One

Content Warning: Swearing, Jealousy, Toxic Ex-Boyfriend, Threats of Violence, Slytherin!Boys, Dirty Talk, Asshole!Pucey, Alcohol

Series MasterList

"Pansy..." I complained, as my best friend rummaged through my overflowing closet.

"You're going, y/n! No excuses!" Pansy declared, selecting a dark green dress.

"But my day has been terrible! Snape gave me detention," I moaned, collapsing onto my bed.

"All the more reason for you to go!" she said playfully.

"But Mattheos will be there! I can't be bothered with his nonsense tonight, Pans," I groaned, attempting to find any way out of attending this party.

"Whether you like it or not, Y/n Berkshire, you're going!" Pansy ordered, holding up the dress. "Now, get changed and do your makeup! I'll be back in 20!"

Fuck sake

…

As soon as Pansy and I stepped into the party, the loud music hit my ears and I scanned the Slytherin common room. Pansy held onto my hand and led us to our group of friends who were lounging on the couch.

“Look who decided to join.” Blaise greeted us with a chuckle and handed me a drink while Pansy settled onto Draco's lap.

I rolled my eyes, “Pansy dragged me here. I didn’t come willingly.”

“Don’t be such a bore!” Enzo urged me, “drink up!”

So I downed my drink and chuckled lightly. I needed more drinks to forget about my terrible day.

"I need another drink!" I exclaimed, pushing off the wall I was leaning on.

Pansy chimed in, "Me too!"

I give a nod and follow her to the drink table. As I start pouring myself a drink, Pansy and I engage in a lively conversation about our plans for the upcoming Christmas break. Suddenly, I feel a tap on my shoulder, causing me to turn around with a wide smile on my face.

However, my smile quickly fades when I come face to face with an annoying individual wearing an unsettling smile - Adrian Pucey, my ex-boyfriend.

"Hello, beautiful," Adrian greets me, his eyes fixed on me.

Instinctively, I take a step back towards Pansy. "What brings you here? You never come to parties," he asks, a frown forming on my face, skeptical of his intentions.

"What's it to you, Pucey?" I reply, not hiding my annoyance.

"Obsessive much," Pansy mutters quietly under her breath.

"Just curious," Adrian responds, nodding slowly. "So?" he prompts, wanting to know more.

I gesture towards the group of boys gathered around the dark green couch in the corner of the common room. Enzo catches my eye as I glance over.

"Just here to have a good time with my friends," I explain, emphasizing my desire to enjoy the company of those around me.

I immediately frown. "No, thank you," I reply with disgust as Pansy and I make our way back to the couch, where Theo is getting ready to take his shot.

"Why are you making that face?" Enzo asks, frowning as we approach.

"Adrian Pucey is still fixated on her," Pansy says, rolling her eyes. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Mattheo clenching his jaw as he swirls his drink in his cup.

"If he bothers you again, let me know," Enzo says seriously, his elderly brother instincts kicking in. Well, when I say elderly brother instincts, I mean... 5 minutes older.

"He won't, it's fine," you say dismissively.

…

After almost two hours, the game of truth or dare turns out to be a disaster. I was drunk and Draco seemed to enjoy giving me the most challenging dares.

"That dare was a piece of cake," I argue, while Blaise giggles. "Ron was blushing like crazy. It's either a hit or miss."

"More like a miss," Theo jokes.

"Shut up, Nott," I reply, giving him the finger. He bursts out laughing. "Hey guys, let's take a bathroom break and then continue playing."

"Do you want me to come with you?" Pansy asks, sitting comfortably on Draco's lap.

"No, I'll be back soon. Our dorm is just upstairs," I say.

…

I swiftly make my way back to my dormitory. I rush to complete my tasks, and just as I am exiting my dorm and descending the stairs towards the common room, I collide with someone.

"Shit I’m so sorry!" I exclaim apologetically, taking a step back to give the other person some space.

"Y/n, what a pleasant surprise!" The familiar voice greets me.

"What do you want now, Pucey?" I retort, crossing my arms defensively.

"You," he chuckles, causing me to cringe in annoyance.

"You're pathetic, Pucey," I remark, taking another step up the stairs, unfortunately moving further away from the common room.

"Hey! You keep saying my last name as if it's a negative thing, but you were begging for it last year," he chuckles, taking a sip of his drink.

“The only thing I was begging for was for our relationship to end.” I retorted at his unfunny joke.

As I tried to sidestep around him, he blocked my path with his arm, almost clotheslining me in the process.

"Don't pretend like we didn't have a good time, sweetheart," he said, licking his lips and moving closer, his arm slipping around my waist.

"Hey, baby," a deep voice called out from behind me.

Oh no.

"I've been looking for you," Mattheo said, looking into my eyes as if silently urging me to play along, before burying his head in the crook of my neck.

"I was just about to leave until Adrian here decided to bother me once again," I said, attempting to relax in the arms of the boy I despised while trying to get rid of Adrian.

"What do you want with my girlfriend?" Mattheo asked, wrapping a protective arm around my waist.

Adrian looks at you in disbelief and asks, "Girlfriend? You two? No way." He then turns to Mattheo and motions towards you.

You respond, "You were too busy talking about making me your wife that I didn't get to mention it." Mattheo pulls you closer to him.

"Look, she's taken," Mattheo says, in a deep and authoritative voice.

Adrian shakes his head and says, "Hasn't stopped her before," making you frown.

Mattheo threatens Adrian, "Don't make me beat your ass, pucey," as he drops his arm from your waist and cracks his knuckles.

Adrian challenges Mattheo, "I'd like to see you try, pretty boy."

You interrupt the growing tension between them and exclaim, "Well, I wouldn't! Come on, Mattheo, let's go back to our friends."

Mattheo moves closer to the man, firmly planting his feet and assuming a confident posture as he looms over him. "Look here, you disgusting asshole. Keep your distance from her for the rest of the evening, or I’ll fuck up your face, Pucey."

Adrian blinks a few times. "Alright then, jerk." He deliberately brushes past Mattheo, making his way past the two of you and descending the stairs. He defiantly raises his middle finger in the air as he disappears down the stairwell.

“You’re welcome by the way.” Mattheo grumbles in frustration as he trails behind Pucey, making his way back to the party.

What just happened

#cloveswifey #matheo riddle #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo #mattheo riddle #mattheo x you #mattheoxreader #mattheo x y/n #Mattheo riddle series #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle x you #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x oc #tom riddle #harry potter imagine #Slytherin #slytherin boys react

[batfleshh]

Grrghhghgh random fucking post about Soap x M!Dog hybrid!Reader

Nsfw warning so like minors DNI and stuff

SFW:

★ Having a hybrid on the team was surely a weird experience for the task force, considering they had never really properly seen one. You were introduced by the captain, Price boasting about your amazing loyalty. You stood there politely, tail calmly swinging as you listened to him talk. You were basically going to be used as a weapon, bringing you out on missions would help the outcomes of them improve.

★ You bonded with the team quite well, hanging around with the captain most often. He appreciated your company, almost like a dad and his dog, claiming you could cause no harm if anything did happen on base.

★ Ghost found you okay to be around, the shedding being his only problem. He treated you like the common house pet, never letting you near him if you had any kind of body odor on you. But other than that, you both bonded quite well. He would often scold you if your hair began to get annoying, shooing you out if you came back in. You eventually did, the “scary” man letting you rest next to him again.

★ Gaz and you often showed a sort of competitive attitude towards each other. Not like rivals, but in a brotherly way. You always bickered, usually with one insulting a psychical trait about the other, but you both worked well on missions.

★ Now you and Soap, you both got along the easiest. Both of your personalities matched up perfectly, bringing both a chaotic good and a calm to the friendship. You both would often flirt with each other, the main thing that he liked about you being your animalistic features. The way your tail would wag when he speaks to you being the highlight of your day. Being on a mission with him was amazing, your natural instinct kicking in to protect him, not letting any enemy harm him.

★ You did let him take care of himself more than often, though. But the protective urge would not leave as easy as it came. You were quite possessive, more often than not. Soap adored it, and would be more than happy to be protected by you.

NSFW:

★ As a hybrid, you were given a higher sex drive than the usual person. It wouldn’t be a foreign feeling for you to be grinding up against Soap, thrusting your hips against his own as you hide your face in his neck. You like to leave bites along his neck, showing off that he’s yours is one of your favorite ways to prove he is. He never missed the way you would glare when any other person would touch him, outside of the task force, of course. As mentioned, you are very possessive when it comes to be necessary.

★ Most of the time, it is Soap who is underneath you, taking your cock in his hole. You love biting at his neck, ears flat against your head as you piston yourself in and out of him. And if he dares to say, he loves to be topped more than he bottoms. Though they are equally fun, he loves the feeling of being dominated by you, being claimed by you over and over again. He loves the feeling of your sharp canines driving into his skin, the painful ache only turning him on more, pushing his hips back against yours. He especially loves when you take care of him after, leaving your cock in him even after you’ve came so many times.

★ But when he does top, it’s a whole different story. He loves the way you whine over his dick hitting that sweet spot inside you, feeling you claw at his back making him groan deep in your ear. Your tail always seemed to wag when you rode him, bouncing up and down on him always made him admire you more fondly. When you both would be in the bedroom, he would take care of you after any hard mission you had been sent out on, especially if you came back with some minor injuries and you needed to take your mind off of it.

★ Sometimes, Johnny finds it kind of amusing to tug on your tail around base, just to tease you. He did it once as a small joke, shocked when a surprised moan fell past your lips. You both just stared at each other, shock littered in both of your eyes. He later did it again, tugging at it gently while you laid on your stomach in your shared bed, hips up as your back was arched. Soap watched as his dick thrusted in and out of you, a smirk clear as day on his face.

★ “Thas’ a good pup f’me, yeah?”, he teased you as you whine underneath him, the sound of his skin hitting yours echoing in the room. He was glad the captain recruited you, not knowing what he would do if he had never experienced it.

#bat bite #male reader #x male reader #gay #cod x reader #call of duty #cod x male reader #soap x male reader #soap x reader #soap call of duty #soap cod #soap mw2 #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish #soap #grrghhh he so find I won’t him #hybrid reader