#ugh fuck i think i might have to ask for more hours at work

[shunukitrash]

Status update: AGHHHHHHHHHHH

#vent #im still alive #just suffering #the wifi is out wo i finally had to update my data plan #and for some reason on viruzon tumblr ZAPS data super fucking quick so i have to be super careful and it sucks #plus the muffler on my dad's car fucking fell off which means i cant practice driving AND i have to bug my mom to pick me up from work #i fucking hate living with men this is parhetic #plus did you know 30 hours a week is only considered part time? THAT'S BULLSHIT #ugh fuck i think i might have to ask for more hours at work #tldr: Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

#ok so like this is fine bc im not in a horrible mood rn. this is more i feel like complaining bc what im doing is kinda ridiculous #but my memory is so bad that ill probably forget if i dont write it out. but basically 4 days a week i have to come in starting at 7.30 to #water and prep for measurements. then from 9am to 6.15pm i have to nonstop take the measurements. and theyre timed so that means #i get abt 4 min to do anything before i have to take another measurement. which is abt enough time to start to focus and then have to stop #which is very fucking frustrating. and i have to manage data. coordinate for this fucking paper. and keep track of like 10 other things for #work stuff. which means that it takes me like and hour to send easy emails and they come out all fucked uo bc my brain is so shot #but on top of that i also have to fucking do the steps to get set up for my new school in the fall. and like ive officially accepted the #offer but havent talked to my new advisor since then so now theres this weird gap where im like. uh fuck do i ask for wtf im supposed to #do? bc ive been able to do things for like 2 or 3 weeks but then my life started collapsing in around me. and like there r probably #instructions somewhere but i cant fucking read lol. whatever. hes nice i just need to find the energy and words to email him and b like lol #srry everythings been insane. but bc ive waited so long i have to compulsively keep going back to check that ive been accepted like somehow #that would change while im not looking. ugh. and ive also fucked myself over housing wise bc theres a housing shortage in the city and huge #demand of housing on camus so theres a wait list for everything but i cant fucking apply bc i cant get my id to work. and fucking idk who #to call or email abt that. but idk i might have to have roomates for a semester. or my parents offered to give me some extra money for an #apartment until i can get one that doesnt put me in the red on a grad student budget. ugh. i dont wanna do either of those things #but christ do i not want roommates. ill figure something out. its just annoying and difficult from so far away #and it makes me kinda sad bc ppl r like: r u excited?! and im like. i cant really think abt that. partly bc im constanly putting out fires #in the present so theres not really space for it. partly bc i dont allow myself to b excited abt things so as not to get my hopes up. #but just after i accepted i was excited. and now it feels like im reaching my hand out toward a floating light just out of reach. like #its a nice idea but i wont believe until it happens. but that just bc ive become distorted about things #and i dont even get a weekend bc the 4 days of measurement r friday to Monday and i cant fucking relax on weekdays bc ppl r like hey can u #do this??? and there r things i can only do on weekdays so its like ok i guess ill just suffer forever thrn. and my boss texts me like: hey #did u do X? and am like: uuuuuh i fucking dont kno what day it is anymore. i dont understand y we have to meet. lets just not talk bc im #afraid ill say something worrying. so yea its pretty fucked up rn. but this stuff ends on the 24th #then ill probably not take a break and fucking finish the measurements for another project bc i just really need it to b done. i need it #all to b done so i can fucking wash my hands of this and fucking quit and move away at the start of july... or August if i decide i hate #myself that much. ugh. at least the lab has been pretty empty so no ones seen me crying lol #also thr fucking rutgers guy emailed me yesterday like: hey u want this position? and im like bitch u r like a month too late also im in #my cringe fail era. i would not survive at ur school. ugh everything is terrible. 2 or 3 more months then i csn leave this place forever #unrelated

[toastsnaffler]

I have to be up for work in 3 hours and I'm gonna be real I think ive hit the point where I might not be getting any sleep at all. for fucks sake.

#ive survived all nighters before ill scrape through the day itll just be Rough. at least i dont have much in my schedule #im not gonna take the dose this morning bc i think thats a really bad idea to do on zero hours sleep #and i can't risk two consecutive all nighters. like I have done that before but not while working full time 💀 its not worth it #drafting an email to my doctor to let her know im skipping day 2 + ask advice re. whether its worth resuming again on day 3 #bc she did list 'trouble sleeping' as a common symptom that often passes but i need to know a) how long it usually takes to pass and- #b) if this is unusually bad + would she rec supplementing with a sleep aid or just switching tack entirely and trialling a non stimulant #by this stage of the night i dont think its actually acting anymore bc i took it at 7am and its now 3am. it shouldnt last that long #i think its more just triggered my preexisting insomnia. my ability to sleep is very very sensitive sometimes + hates routine changes #just so fucking frustrating bc ive spent the past 2 months nailing my sleep routine + ive had a couple weeks of being able to- #go to bed like 9:30-10 and it only takes an hour to get to sleep and i get usually a good 7 hours sometimes 8 only waking once halfway #and i dont feel like utter shit like yeah im tired but from work not so much lack of sleep.... and now thats all fucked lmao #whatever. maybe i should just take the next dose anyway #ill see. gonna try to sleep for another 2 hours but once it hits 5 im not doing this anymore ive been trying for six hours already man #i cant even remember when i last pulled a full all nighter. it might be longer than 6 months ago... i was doing so well :-( #im so mad i was so hopeful it would have SOME good effect like ik its not a miracle worker + these things take time but so many people- #seem to have an immediate positive response even if its probably a placebo. and i got fuck all except This. #i was searching on the reddit for sleep issues and other ppl only seem to report bad ones on higher doses or years in.. #like damn. do i even have adhd then. ik thats a stupid thing to think bc obvs everyones body metabolises meds differently etc but still #it is ALMOST HALF 3 and i am FUCKING TIRED #UGH. alright bedtime round 189447383 #.diaries #.vent

[ukrainian-psycho]

boo hoo

#genuinely can’t think of a part of my life that isn’t stressing me out rn #idk what to do with my legal papers idk who to ask I don’t get this system and I worry I’ll be put on hold on work for that #I can’t catch up at work I hate this job #I wanted to be sure I’ll make it to a Halloween party this year but now that I’ve lost a friend idk how #I’ll have to get drunk and hit up that other guy again on snap begging pweeeeease invite me to a Halloween party #which might work but if it does there’s a high chance Kevin will be there and ugh I just #can’t #I just can’t #my family doesn’t talk to me really #so that’s great #and I drink like almost every day and don’t eat on god I consumed more alcohol this month than real food #I ran out of ibuprofen half a month ago and only by some divine intervention I haven’t had a single bad hangover #but also I’m too depressed to get my ass out and buy more ibuprofen so I’m just eating whatever med could have painkilling as a side effect #i sleep like 5 hours a day because my body can’t sleep for more no matter what #and then the gender stupid fucking thing #it’s fine it’s all fine

[twogyuu]

[1149]

pairing: jihoon x fem!reader (ft roommate mingyu, mentions of pi cheol in and chun sun aka me jk jk )

synopsis: in which, you get sick and jihoon asks mingyu for help.

genre: fluff, comfort newly established relationship

warnings: reader is sick, profanity, unedited (this is literally just word vomit)

wc: ~1.9k

. . . .

So, to be fair, Jihoon has never done this "boyfriend" thing before - at least as a young adult. He dated someone temporarily in middle school and kind of talked to someone in high school, but this was different. Two young adults with mutual feelings that may or may not have took too long to confess on both ends and now are in a committed exclusive relationship, where you care about each other a lot - sometimes, maybe more than themselves. You've gotten to the stage of going over to each other's places almost daily, sleepovers when they can squeeze them in, sometimes you visit him at work - heck! You hold hands in public now and even your non-mutual friends are meeting, and soon enough when your birthday rolls around, he'll meet your parents.

As new as everything is and Jihoon begrudgingly, but openly and patiently, taking it all one step at a time, there are just some things he doesn't know how to handle - like you not texting him your usual 'good night' message this evening.

He's sitting in his living room, phone wedged between his thick fingers, jiggling his foot as he clicks the screen on and off, awaiting your message. He attempted to distract himself earlier by turning on a re-run episode of Demon Slayer, but his eyes were glued to his phone. The time almost reads midnight - you usually text him at 11:15 like it's clock work.

Should he text you?

Should he call?

It wouldn't be too overwhelming, right?

Jihoon fiddles with his phone, opening and closing the messaging app. His thumb hovers over his keyboard as he hesitantly starts typing out a word: H-i.

No - that's dumb!

Hey.

Delete, delete, delete.

Ugh! When did this get so hard.

"What are you pulling your hairs about?" Mingyu asks from behind, eliciting a slight jump from Jihoon. The taller man settles into the empty cushion beside him, turning off the TV - the bright colors from the show giving him a headache after staring at his computer screen for hours as he finished up a work project.

"Nothing," Jihoon grumbles. Unconsciously, he runs a hand through his dark locks once more.

Mingyu points at his head. "Doesn't seem like nothing - you're going to to go bald at this point."

Jihoon resists at first, letting several beats pass. He squirms in his seat; Mingyu sitting back on his side of the couch, getting comfortable and amused at Jihoon fighting himself.

"it's just . . . uh," Jihoon shakes his head furiously, "Ugh - this is so stupid."

"This is stupid or are you stupid?" Mingyu presses.

"Shut up - you're so damn irritating," Jihoon shoves his knee.

"Well," Mingyu stands up and shrugs, "All I was doing was trying to help."

Jihoon finally caves, letting out a heavy sigh. "Y/N hasn't texted 'goodnight' yet," he mutters.

Mingyu clamps a hand dramatically over his mouth. "I think I'm going to be sick - oh, hey! Ow!"

The couch throw pillow smacks Mingyu in the face, Jihoon's cheeks burning as he turns to face away from his friend. "Fucking asshole."

"I'm kidding!" Mingyu scurries over to him. He tries to shoot Jihoon an apologetic look, though the latter refuses to meet his eye.

"Maybe, you should call her? If you're that worried - text might take too long for her to reply," Mingyu suggests.

Jihoon's eyes flicker over to him then back, still scowling. Mingyu does his best to suppress his grin threatening to stretch across his lips. It's actually so dang cute - Jihoon caring so deeply for someone. Not that he didn't before, but never so openly - or as open as Jihoon can be.

"it wouldn't be like . . . weird, right?" Jihoon mumbles.

Mingyu shakes his head furiously, thrusting his phone closer to Jihoon as to urge him to dial your number.

"I'll be right here," Mingyu flutters his lashes.

Jihoon jerks his arm away, letting out a brisk 'tsk,' before turning to his device. His eyes linger on your name, finger hesitantly held above it.

Tap.

And it starts to ring.

And ring.

And ring.

And ring.

And-

"The person you are trying to call is not available at this time. Please leave a message at the tone-"

Frantically, Jihoon turns to Mingyu, eyes wide and body tense.

"What?" Mingyu asks.

"She didn't answer!" Jihoon exclaims. "What if, what if-"

"Whoa, whoa - calm down," Mingyu tries, "How about we try calling her again?"

"You're right," Jihoon nods, trying to calm his nerves. "She might just be in the bathroom or something."

He tries once more and this time, someone does pick up - but it's not you.

"Hello?"

"Hello?"

Jihoon looks nervously towards Mingyu.

"Is . . . Y/N there? This is . . . Jihoon, their, err, um . . . boyfriend," he explains.

"Oh!" the girl on the other line exclaims, "I'm so glad you called actually! It's Jihyo! Y/N's roommate."

"Ah," Jihoon let's out a small breath. "Hey Jihyo - is she . . . okay?"

"Yes, but no," Jihyo replies hastily. He hears padded footsteps as if Jihyo was rushing to another room. "Um, yes - she's safe, but no - she's actually sick."

"Sick?"

"Yeah," Jihyo's tone grew blue, "She ran a fever earlier today and had some nausea. Not sure if it's a bad stomach bug or the flu or something."

"Oh my god."

"I know!" Jihyo continues, "I tried to tell her to call you, but she refused!"

A sick feeling swirls in Jihoon's chest. "Why?"

The simple, one-worded question seems hard to get out.

"I'm not sure," Jihyo confesses. "I think she just didn't want to worry you."

"Oh," Jihoon nods slowly, even though Jihyo can't see him. His shoulders slump, feeling disappointed. Hurt.

Did you think he was weird? Why didn't you tell him?

"If you want, you can come by - actually you should. I'll stay up for a bit and let you in," Jihyo offers.

"Um," Jihoon scratches his head. "A-are you sure? What if she doesn't like it?"

"Does it matter?" Jihyo chuckles. "Your her boyfriend and you were worried enough to call."

"Toche," he breathes out.

"Think about it and text me," Jihyo advises. "Don't be too long."

. . . .

"Y/N . . . she's sick," Jihoon tells Mingyu.

"Oh," Mingyu dips his spoon into his yogurt. "So . . . are you gonna do anything about it?"

"Should I?" Jihoon asks. "Can I?"

"I mean, yes, you can," Mingyu shrugs. "But do you want to? And if so what?"

Jihoon rubs his neck sheepishly. "I want to do something, but I don't know what. She's sick, Mingyu, and my girlfriend. What would a good boyfriend do?"

"Oh my god," Mingyu shakes his head. "Please don't tell me you're that hopeless!"

"It's not that!" Jihoon argues back, "I just don't want to be weird."

"Caring about your girlfriend and wanting to see her is not weird," Mingyu scolds. However, he's always tapping away on his phone, doing something. "Auntie Sun? Hi! Mingyu - say, I apologize for calling so late to closing time, but could you prepare some of that soup for me? It's a bit of an emergency - I'll have a friend pick it up. His name is Jihoon." Mingyu nods, a few 'mhm's' falling from his lips before he quickly thanks her and promises her a nice tip for the last minute order and hangs up.

"What are you doing?" Jihoon asks slowly.

Mingyu pulls his wallet out his back pocket and thrusts them into Jihoon's hands. "Auntie Sun's restaurant is down the street and around the corner - go one more block, and you should see it. There's a ginormous, kinda creepy-looking, smiling daisy on the sign. Her weirdly chirpy husband, Cheol In, should be sitting outside singing some trot song. Pick up the soup and bring it over when you go to her place."

"That's weirdly specific," Jihoon grumbles, accepting the bills.

"Yeah, they're kind of a weird couple with a weird routine," Mingyu sits back down, returning to his yogurt. "But you know what? It's fine - you know why? Because they love each other."

Jihoon narrows his eyes, "Are you trying to say something?"

Mingyu sighs. "Jihoon, I know this is your first relationship in a while - a serious one. And, even though you won't admit it, everyone can see how much you like and care about her. Don't hold back and fuck it up just because you're nervous about being 'weird' or whatever you're doing."

This takes Jihoon aback for a moment, fingers curling slowly over the bills. He takes this in, letting the words sink in - because Mingyu was right and he has a point. In the name of love (or whatever this is), he has to put aside his own insecurities, and not only be open and patient in doing things with you, but for you - understanding you.

"Also?" Mingyu pipes up once more, "Trust me - she does not think you're weird at all."

. . . .

Your sleeping wrapped like a burrito in your comforter when Jihoon enters your room. Hot soup in one hand because he was to eager to see you to set it down, he stands above you at your bedside, feeling a weight lift off his chest. You looked uncomfortable, yes, possibly having a bad dream with the way you wince and sweat beads along your brows, but you were alive and safe.

Jihoon places the soup on your nightstand, crouching to eye level. He reaches for the small washcloth and swipes at your skin carefully. Your eyes suddenly flutter open, sending Jihoon onto his butt in surprise.

"Jihoon?" you groan.

"H-hi," he manages as he clutches his chest. "It's me?"

You moan once more, rolling onto your back. "What are you doing here? Did Jihyo call you?"

"I called you and Jihyo picked up," Jihoon explains, rising and adjusting himself so he could better see you. He smooths a loose fringe of hair. "I was worried - you didn't text to say 'goodnight.'"

You try to hide from him, burying yourself under the covers. "I didn't want you to see me like this!"

He chuckles half-heartedly, gently fighting you to come out. "Why? You're sick."

"Exactly," you mutter, too weak and finally letting him win. You're pouting, tears welling in your waterlines.

Jihoon returns your pout. "I'm kind of hurt, if I'm being honest."

Your expression softens and you wait for him to explain further.

"I'm your . . . boyfriend," Jihoon states, "Isn't this what boyfriend's are for? Taking care of you and all? Especially when you're sick?"

You slump back, teeth sinking into your bottom lip. "I mean . . . I guess. I'm just kind of . . . embarrassed? I dunno."

"Babe," Jihoon chuckles, moving closer to you. He reaches for your hand, enveloping it in his. "I want to know and be here when you're sick."

"I look and feel terrible though," you whine.

"Not like I haven't seen you with morning breath and hair sticking up funny in the morning," Jihoon teases.

"Jihoon!"

"Just shut up and come here."

He doesn't give you much of an option, wrapping you in an embrace.

"You're going to get sick!"

"I don't care," Jihoon squeezes you tighter. "I mean, I kind of do, but you'll take care of me then."

Relaxing into his hold, you finally reciprocate, loosely wrapping your arms around his waist.

"Next time, please tell me, okay?" Jihoon asks softly. "I wasn't kidding when I was kind of hurt. I want to know."

You let out a deep breath, lids growing heavy as you let the comfort of his warmth seep in.

"Okay."

#woozi x reader #woozi fluff #woozi scenarios #seventeen x reader #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fluff

[kissitbttr]

Hi lovely! Your cake tasting fic was literally immaculate. I was just thinking about how r and miguel met, and how cute it would be to see a blurb where he gets all flustered when he sees her for the first time? You are amazing! Xoxo

sending u lots and lots of kisses MWAH MWAH thank u baby😚😚😚 anyHOWWWW i’m so glad someone asked for this! I’ve been waiting for it TEEHEE! now i did mention a little bit on the cake testing fic how they first met, sooo i might just have to expand from there yuhyuh!

this turned out a bit onger than i expected lol but I hope you'd enjoy it regardless!

miguel masterlist

—

miguel meeting his wife for the first time

-

“the laboratory is 80% damaged, miguel. we need to get it fixed or else we can no longer continue our work.”

miguel sighs deeply, pinching his eyebrows with his index finger and thumb. the ungodly amount of research papers stacked neatly in the corner of his working desk, along with bunch of scrunched papers on top.

“jessica, no ahora”

she rolls her eyes at his stubbornness, arms crossed over her chest. his eyes glued on the monitor, framed glasses perched on the bridge of his thick nose bone

“you need a break.”

“I don’t” he disagrees. if anything, he needs to put on more hours of work. “i can’t leave before everything is done. we’ll get it fixed next week.”

“that’s what you said last week, miguel” jessica points out, eyes scanning around the room. “look at this mess! the HQ haven’t got fixed in months! if you want this building to be safely secured and leave no casualties in the future, you have to do what i say.”

again, miguel disagrees. shaking his head without looking up. “and i said, no.”

but jessica refuses to be told like that, shrugging her shoulders like it’s nothing. “well too bad, because i already found someone who’s willing to work on it and you’re meeting them”

that seems to catch his attention, his pen dropping off between his finger as his head whips towards jessica’s direction.

“you—what?!”

“i’m not going to be responsible for many injured people in the future. not when we have too much enemies coming to bite our asses so i suggest you get down from there and come here”

miguel has a temper. a very short one, and it’s not easy to control it when he’s surrounded by people who’s trying to tell him what to do. it’s supposed to be the other way around.

but miguel has no energy to fight back, so instead of telling her to fuck off, he just nods his head.

“alright fine” an upset mutter falls from his lips before he makes his way down the stairs. hands on his hips. “where is he?”

jessica scoffs, “why do you always assume everyone is a he?” she chuckles lightly at miguel’s quirk eyebrow. “you can come in now, ms. y/l/n”

the sound of his office door clicks after that, and miguel seems to be less than impressed because he has no energy in him to talk to people other than himself,

yet, his jaw drops instantly soon as he sees the person who walks through it,

a woman—a very gorgeous one—who looks like to be in her mid twenties makes an entrance as her heels click against the marble floor, carrying what seems to be a tablet and folders. she’s dressed in a grey long tight fitting dress that falls down to her ankles with a cropped beige colored cardigan completing the whole look as an outer, leaving only the left shoulder exposed. a smile appears on her face as she fixes the frame of her black reading glasses.

miguel has never seen a more beautiful woman than the one he’s staring at right now,

“ms. y/l/n, this is miguel o’hara. the head of Alchemax and leader of Spider Society.” jessica smirks at the way miguel is gaping right now, as he makes no intention in hiding it away.

guess, her 70% of her plan is slowly working.

“ugh! come on, jessica you’ve known me long enough to stop saying my last name” she giggles, “mr. o’hara. my name is y/n. it is very nice to meet you. jessica had told me many things about you. i am so impressed with everything you had done”

‘fuck, even her voice is pretty’ he thinks

he regains his composure, clearing his throat before taking off his glasses. “thank you, y/n. you and jessica are close?”

with a nod, she responds, “we go way back. haven’t been off each other’s arms for a long time. hard to keep me away from this woman”

so jessica had been hiding her away from him? that’s rude.

“oh hush. always with the sweet talk” jessica waves her off with a smile. “miguel, y/n has plans on remodeling the hq for us. i’ve told her about what needs to be done and so forth. she has already inspected the lab, cafetería, training rooms. this smart woman right here came with conclusions in just five minutes.”

a blush creeping into y/n’s cheeks, shyly tucking a loose hair behind her ear which makes miguel’s heart warms at the sight,

“i’ve seen her work and i wouldn’t just bring anyone when it comes to our matter. she’s the perfect person for this. now since i have so many things to catch up on, i hope it’s okay for me to leave you two and have her explain it all—“

“yes” miguel replies a bit too quickly, causing the two women to raise their eyebrows. this makes him slightly bit embarrassed at how eager he might have come off. “i mean-yeah, of course. it’s not like i was doing anything. have a bit of a time off.”

“i though you said—“

“that’s enough jessica. thank you” he nods at her, shooting her a tight smile. “i would love to hear it.”

a giddiness blooms in his chest when y/n gives him a toothy grin. and it may become his favorite thing to look at,

“alright then. i’ll see you later. bye, sweetheart” jessica waves at her friend before walking out of miguel’s office and shutting the door behind her,

now it’s just them,

y/n’s gaze averts back to his tall figure. she had heard stories about miguel o’hara. jessica loves to spill teas about her partner and had showed pictures of him when y/n was curious on how he look like. he is indeed handsome.

but now, looking at him in person? fuck, even the greek gods are no match to him

beautiful bronze skinned, broad shoulders, high cheekbones with sharp jawlines. she glances a bit at his toned chest then down to his torso for a bit. abs rock hard enough to be seen through the working shirt he’s wearing. this man built like he contains zero body fat.

however, his mesmerizing red eyes are what got her hooked.

“it’s very nice of you to make the time for this, mr. o’hara. i know you are a very busy man and i hate to be the one who’s preventing you from your work.”

miguel’s head shakes, giving her a small genuine smile. “no apologies necessary. and please, call me miguel”

“okay then, miguel” she nods, returning his smile. “may i begin showing you what i’ve been working on?”

miguel’s arm extends towards a large wooden table, allowing her to walk first. “by all means” he folds his arms behind his back, following her from behind.

he’s very much struggling not to look at her ass while she moves,

“okay, so” she lays her things flat on the table, getting to work quickly. “i’ve planned a pre-design for your laboratory, given that the lab is one that needs extra precautions and highly detailed instructions, i’ve figured i should get that one done first. and here” she unlocks her tablet before tapping one app, showing the minimum design. “there are important keys that needs to be highlighted. i need exact measurements of how many people will be coming in and out of your lab, objects you’re thinking of storing, etc. because it will determine the amount of space i’ll be working on”

miguel doesn’t know jack shit about what she’s talking about but fuck, it sounds incredibly sexy to his ears,

“jessica had explained to me before that there will be less than fifteen people working in there. i would advise to create a fingerprint for entry. and it will require more space, more equipment and materials for me and my team to be able to carry on with our tasks. but i need you to not worry, miguel. i’ve done the trials and errors to limit the damage that might occur with the calculations.” she pushes her tablet for him to see clearly, colorful scribbles of geometry with shapes and patterns,

not only that, but she has a few mockups too. giving him a small vision on how the area would look like once it’s done.

miguel’s eyebrows raise, moving a bit closer to where she stands. “christ. this is amazing. you did that in…?”

“a week” she finishes with a smile, nails tapping against the table. watching how his eyes amazed at her small simple work “some would take more than that but, i take my work seriously, i don’t like postponing.”

his eyes move upwards to look at her, impressed by the details and efforts she had done with it. one thing about miguel, is that he is very much attracted to people who are putting their careers above anything,

and she has ticked that box,

“indeed” he lets out a breathe, nodding. “does that mean you don’t have a lot of free time?”

she thinks for a while. “not much definitely. but it’s not like i’m missing out on anything. what do people do nowadays? partying and gossiping? i rather not.”

he chuckles in amusement, “understandable. i thought that you might be into those kind of stuff.”

“and what gave you the assumption?”

he raises his shoulders. “you look young. young people like to have fun.”

“and how old do you think i am?” she asks with arms crossed,

he pinches his eyebrows. “28?”

she hums with a small laugh. “i’m 26”

miguel’a eyes widen slightly, “makes me older than you, then”

“how old are you?”

“32”

“really?” she asks in disbelief. “i thought older.”

“yeah?”

“yeah. around 40ish maybe.”

“that’s quite offensive, love” he fakes a gasp, shoving his hands into his pockets as he watches her scramble through more papers,

her heart skips a beat at the nickname, though she doesn’t think much of it. “it’s a compliment. the older the better, i’d say”

miguel smiles at that, walking around the table so now he stands across from her. “what did you and jessica talk about?”

“hm?”

“about me” he confirms. “you said that the two of you had talking about me.”

“oh, well” she begins, standing up straight to look into his eyes and miguel swears his knees almost give up. “she told me how much she admires you. your intelligence, bravery. your work ethic. told me all about the good things you had done for the people—“

“i don’t know about that”

“which” she cuts him off. “i am so, undeniably impressed by. keeping the universe intact while trying not to lose your fucking mind is hard, i could tell. I don’t know how you do it. makes me admire you too”

he stares at her as if he’s searching for a trace of doubt or a lie on her face. when he finds none, his heart softens. never in his life had someone come up to him and say how he’s doing a great job. let alone being impressed.

“thank you— i needed that actually” he laughs a bit. “wish people could say the same.”

“in my opinion, i don’t think you need to know about what other people think or say. you’re a grown man, correct?” she taps the eraser of her pencil on one of her sketchbook, eyeing any misguided lines she needs to work on. “if they don’t appreciate that, might as well kick their asses into a new universe”

a genuine chuckle escapes him, nodding in agreement. “i keep that in mind” he clears his throat, thinking about whether or not to make a small talk,

she notices the long pause between them before speaking up, “please, i hate awkward silence. you can talk to me, if you want to, miguel” her head shoots up at him with a playful tone,

“is architectural the only thing you’re doing?” he finds himself curious at her line of work,

“apart from this, i do a little bit of interior design. not too far off from architectural but not exactly the same either. i love anything that goes from there. putting ideas in my head before making it into a reality. also, it’s warming to see how i can help my clients dream come true” she responds simply, a small smile engraves on her pretty features.

“i also am studying in biochemistry at the moment. having a bit fun with molecular study.”

that perks his interest. “biochemistry?” he asks in a surprise tone. “i’m no expert in architectural but i don’t think it has anything to do with that.”

“it doesn’t” she confirms, picking a ruler before sketching out more details on the design. “i do it for fun.”

“for fun?” again, his question comes out in surprise, “why’s that?”

“i just think that learning shouldn’t be limited to one, you know? i like knowing about things. doing more things. the more knowledge, the more you have room to grow. plus, learning about molecules is interesting. might take it seriously on that one”

‘holy fuck, she’s perfect’

“that’s a— wow—“ he huffs out a heavy breath, can’t exactly tell if he’s impressed or intimidated. earning a soft giggle from her.

so, she’s gorgeous, brilliant and ambitious.

“how about you? jessica mentioned about you specializing in genetics. is that some sort of science thingy? because it sounds pretty fucking cool”

miguel scratches the back of his head. “something like that. i more focused on DNA’s, genetics pairings, human genome. all sorts of that. pretty boring if you ask me”

“doesn’t sound boring” she scoffs. “if anything, i find it very attractive when men are willing to learn about science. and i’m not just talking about the glasses, but the brains as well. you ticked every single quota, miguel”

she points at the working glasses he has on, causing his eyes to bug out at her boldness. y/n watches how he shyly takes it off, flustered at the compliment. she smirks as if she keeps trying to keep score on how many times she’s succeeded,

“okay, so” she continues, palms resting on the table before shifting the tablet. “let’s talk about your office. is there something you’re willing to change? because, not to be rude but your infrastructure is quite—shit. keep this up in two months then the apocalypse might have come early”

miguel bites back a laugh at her choice of words, scanning over his office walls, ceilings and monitors. “what do you suggest?”

she pauses, biting the end of her pencil before her eyes begin to do a 360 walkthrough. the sight is almost too perfect for miguel.

“we could do something about elevating the ceilings. make it a bit higher. and i see you have lesser—safety features? which could be quite concerning. we need to install biosafety cabinets, more detection systems and fire protection. I know you’re no ordinary man and could probably handle all the damage that might happen in the future but, it is my responsibility to ensure my client’s safety.”

miguel feels like a lovesick fool right now. and an asshole. he hadn't been listening a lot to what she had to say, merely focused on the way her pink glossed lips moving and how her fingers would occasionally fiddle against one another,

he imagines how her mouth would feel like, molding against his. there is no doubt in his mind that he would immediately be entranced with it.

"miguel? you listening?"

her sweet voice pulls him out of his train of thought, eyes blinking rapidly before meeting y/n's confused gaze,

"oh--y-yeah! yeah uhm.. that sounds great, would love that” his nervous chuckles makes her smile. “you’re really quick with it, aren’t you?”

“just doing my job, mr.o’hara” her tone is professional and prideful. “i’ll work quickly on the building designs, exploring more concepts for it and run a few test drives. however this might steal a bit of your time, from your job. weekly meetings are needed during this process. i’ll bring the mockups, sketches, models and everything. your inputs and feedbacks are required since this is your building after all. would that work?”

spending more time with her? oh, absolutely. he’d make it work,

he gives her a nod. “of course. i’ll clear my schedule off for it, just let me know when”

“excellent!” she exclaims with a bright smile, clapping her hands. “i will do my best to get it done as quickly as possible for you, miguel. i made a promise to jessica and i intend to keep that promise. it’s a long process but i need your full trust on me, okay? do you trust me?”

“yes” he answers without hesitation. “i trust you.”

“great! okay, that is all i have for you today. do you have any questions?”

miguel doesn’t like the idea of it ending here. not seeing her again until next week? that doesn’t feel right.

“you have a boyfriend?”

y/n halts at his question, looking at him with a confused yet amused expression. lip quirking in curiosity. “getting personal, aren’t we?”

“fuck, sorry, hermosa. you don’t have to answer that”

her heart skips a beat at the nickname. he just called her beautiful?

she eyes at how his gaze cast down the floor, head shaking. probably mentally kicking himself at the bold question he had thrown at her,

but she finds it adorable,

tilting her head to the side, she responds. “no. i don’t have a boyfriend. they are not quite up the standards i’m looking for.”

“yeah?” miguel takes a step forward, eyebrow raising. “and what are they?”

“my standards”

he finds it attractive at how she doesn’t like settling for less. she knows her worth without coming off too cocky nor bitchy about it,

“am i not allowed to know?”

“you can fuck around and find out” she smirks, pushing her tongue against the inside of her cheek. “i like to see them try.”

“you like seeing men on their knees begging for your time?”

she nods. “i live for it.”

he feels his cock growing hard at that,

“are you free, this friday?”

she bites down on her lower lip, watching how his biceps almost ripping his shirt off when he crossed his arms,

“i’m a busy woman, miguel”

“so am i” he responds quickly. “say dinner or a drink, anything. an hour or two tops, how about it?”

the way he’s looking at her should be illegal. he has this glint in his eyes. primal, confident. and it’s extremely charming in her own opinion,

she hates how it makes her heat rises,

with a hum, she slowly gather up her things, stacking the compiling files on the tablet. tucking them against her left breast.

“pick me up at 7. don’t be late. and i’m choosing where we should go. it was nice meeting you, mr. o’hara. i will see you then” with that she gives him a smile and a subtle wink before turning around to exit out of his office. leaving miguel completely speechless but enamored.

“fuck. i’m in love” he exhales a dreamy sigh

#miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara blurbs #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel o’hara imagines

[capslocked]

WINTER WEATHER ADVISORY

male reader x jeon heejin

part 1 of journalistic integrity

16k words

It’s not even twelve hours apart - the first time you exchange pleasantries, all careless and untroubled, to the moment you’ve got Heejin in the back of a taxi and your hand so far up her skirt that it has you emptying your wallet at the end of the ride and slapping the biggest tip you’ve ever left into the cabbie’s open palm, silence full of disapproval. 

It isn’t planned or anything.

Heejin doesn’t simply wake up one morning with a craving for your cock. It just sorta happens. 

And then It happens again a week later. The third time just a few days after that. 

The fourth time, the two of you barely spend a night apart before Heejin’s back in your apartment, thighs shaking violently as you fuck her into the springs of your mattress.

“I’m trying to figure it out,” you puzzle, holding a coffee mug to your cheek while taking note of how Heejin slips her arms back beneath the black straps of her bra at the foot of your bed. “Why a rabbit?”

She laughs first. Looking back over her shoulder when she responds, “why not? It’s cute.”

“Yeah. Sure. And incredibly provocative.”

“You’re really hung up on it, aren’t you?”

“Um. I just think it’s interesting.”

“Does that mean it’s going to end up in one of your articles?” She asks, tossing her hair back over her shoulders. “Something about it on the front page?”

“Why would you think I’m going to write about rabbits?”

Heejin smiles, bright and cheery and increasingly full of mischief. “About this breeding kink of ours.”

“Ah.”

Her hands reach to her hips like she’s ruminating through all these possibilities, the things she could do to you, the things she has done to you. And as she crawls back onto the bed, your eyes follow hers - all brilliant and huge, self-aware of just how pretty they are.

She lets out this pinchy little laugh, and leans in to kiss your jawline. Bites it for good measure. “Ah, he says, pensively.”

“We went over this,” you start, leaning back into the headboard. “It’s just not a kink. Wanting to cum inside a pretty girl is, literally, basic biology. Like, it’s so foundational, it’s in my DNA.”

“And I get sooo turned on thinking about your DNA,” Heejin snaps back, and she’s got that edge in her voice again: playful, mildly threatening. “Besides, there’s more to it than that.”

“Isn’t there always.”

“It’s the ownership,” she breathes into your neck, “the intimacy, the risk–”

“Risk?” you say, laughing as you jump into the middle of Heejin’s explanation. “What risk? There’s literally no risk when you’re on the pill.”

“Ugh. You’re the worst, you know that? Who’d thought I’d have to explain what fantasy means to a writer.”

Before you can do anything about it, she kisses you three times. Twice on the cheek, once on the lips. And it’s as close as you’ll get to anything like retaliation - you flip her underneath you, drag her panties down her thighs, and fuck her again.

That’s how it goes. Like it's some sort of cosmic law. It’s been this whole thing.

-

So again, you write - when it all starts, you’re writing.

There’s this story.

Your editor’s the one demanding it from you. Find it, embellish it, fucking outright fabricate it - whatever it takes so long as the article arrives on her desk before she finishes her coffee on Monday morning. 

Between you, there’s always this dynamic: work comes in, you’ll point your finger to the ceiling, saying, "trust in the creative process," and then she threatens to kill you. Hence it’s her drumbeat; you’re marching to it.

"You know, I think I might know a guy," you shout over the top of your glass and down the bar, when the topic of LOONA comes up over drinks. You end up phoning a friend of a friend, pulling a string, making a promise you never intend to make good on, and it has you sitting in an unremarkable conference room on the fourth floor of your office a little after lunch the following day.

So, as it starts, there’s this girl sitting across the table from you - Heejin, she says, and it rolls so nicely off her tongue as she does, like the name was simply hers. You notice it immediately, and if you were any younger, the kind of age where you could fall in love with a girl just off the end of a smile, your heart would be rocketing out of your chest.

Now, honest to god– 

(Not that you’re god-fearing or honest or virtuous, it’s just a turn of phrase, and that’s how you earn your keep.)

 –it kicks off innocently enough between you, as most things do. 

Just to put it in perspective, there’s never before been a celebrity profile you’ve written that hasn’t fallen neatly into one of three categories: (1) astonishingly talented, (2) breathtakingly gorgeous, or (3) certifiably insane. So, as you puzzle about that track record now, there should be absolutely no reason at all for you, a professional, to let this girl, another twenty-something-year-old idol who’s too pretty for her own good - with a voice that runs just a little deeper, raspier, perhaps more sultry than you’re used to hearing - ever get the better of you.

"I don’t know, I guess I was expecting someone… different," Heejin says, somewhere in the middle of things, folding her fingers neatly beneath her chin.

Your eyes flick up from the notepad in your hands and find this look in the deep browns of her eyes, like she’s studying you from across the conference room table, gazing into the contents of a test tube. You lift an eyebrow, and she does the same; there’s a bit more suggestion to it than there probably should be, but you’ve been stoking it, fanning it, from the moment you’d both sat down.

"Expecting?" you ask, if only to point out what had thrown you off-kilter, and you can feel your weight shift in your seat. 

After all, it had been just that morning when you met Heejin for the first time. She was standing perhaps a little out of place beside the door to her dressing room, kicking snow off the bottoms of her boots. You told her you liked the color of her dress, a welcome departure from the grays and browns that usually filled your office. Her hair was curtaining her face and after pulling it back, tucking it neatly behind her ears, she smiled brightly back at you - thanks, it’s vermillion.

You weren't aware of it then, and it won’t become clear to you until much later, but you do fall for her there, if at least just a little.

"Well, see, it’s my publicist," Heejin starts to explain. From that alone you’re certain you’ve got the rest puzzled out. She steeples her fingertips together, continuing, "the way she talked you up, she made you out to be, like, totally despicable. Said you were no better than those creeps that sit in the bushes outside my apartment."

Okay, so unfortunately, part of that’s not entirely unwarranted. To a girl like her - to the scrupulous companies that stand to gain, to lose - all that concerning secrets to hide and hell to pay, you could be absolutely despicable. Afterall, if there’s a labor that goes into making someone like Heejin come across as the kind of perfect that everyone believes her to be, you’d be the first person looking to undo it. 

It’s nothing personal, you reason, and you’re smiling back across the table. "Hey. Low blow. I haven’t sat in a bush in years."

A quiet smile shadows in the corner of her lip and she fires back at you, "so you’re saying you’re just a little despicable."

"Oh, ya know," you reassure her, gesturing your hands to the side, one palm up and the pages on your notepad splaying out in the other. "More or less comes with the mileage."

"All joking aside, I’ve seen guys…" 

Heejin dips her eyes a moment to laugh out loud. And you’re becoming familiar with the sound, sweet and throaty and genuine. Harmonic. 

"You know, I’ve seen guys climb trees. Really, I’m serious. This was just last summer, around the time Haseul broke up with her boyfriend and moved into our apartment. Don’t write that down. I’m standing at the sink, washing dishes, and I see this guy. He’s just balancing there with his feet hooked around some of the branches, a camera against his face with this massive lens. I bet you he could probably see the bacteria on the window."

“You wash dishes?” A handbag that costs more than a month’s salary, these dainty fingers that look like they’ve never seen so much as a scratch, and you’re picturing her, or struggling anyway - washing dishes.

“Ugh, it’s been this whole thing,” Heejin says, floating her fingertips to her collarbone. “There was a rumor that the housekeeper had been talking to the press. So our management fired them - and then the dishwasher broke. Company was supposed to buy us a new one, but they haven’t yet - because they’re cheap as shit. Don’t write that down either.”

“Never rains but then it pours, huh?”

“Right. You get it,” she says before letting this simple tight-lipped smile fill out on her face. "To be honest though, I’m curious about something." 

Heejin’s raking her fingers through her hair, and you watch the silver band of her watch fall just a few inches from the sharp edge of her wrist as she holds a messy handful of blonde locks just above her face - the way they bounce against her cheek and spill back onto her shoulder when she lets go.

"How did you - and I’m not saying you’re the same as one of those people - but how does someone even get into entertainment journalism in the first place?"

"Slowly at first," you answer, eyes returning to your lap to pen out the rest of some scribbled note, "and then all at once."

When you look back up, Heejin is frowning, brows furrowed, as though she were trying to remember something.

"Slowly at first," she repeats, "and then all at once." She blinks a few times as your attempt to avoid the question registers. Thoroughly unimpressed when it does. "No, I’m serious, there had to be something that drew you to all this."

You finish out the end of a note, lined into the pad, while you land on a chuckle, dry and humorless. "What is all this now?"

"It’s a question."

Nevermind that it’s in the wrong direction, is your first thought. Careful now, your second. Because maybe you knew that beneath the surface were those stray thoughts that kept you up at night, lurking: 

What kind of journalism career is this? 

You graduated from a good program. With classmates who were now reporting on national legislature, getting shot at to cover a war in Ukraine for The Associated Press - and then here you are, sifting through the transient thoughts of yet another pop star, grasping at straws, struggling to spin them into gold.

"Is this one of those things?" you ask, heeding first to the click of your pen, once in, once out. "What was the word for it… postmodern? Where you turn the tables and you’re the one interviewing me?"

"I don’t think I’d go that far," she says, lips slanted slightly, "you’re still the one holding the notepad after all."

“What, the appeal of meeting fascinating people isn’t enough of a sell for you?” Oh, you’ve had your fair share of boring, mundane, or even offensive too, but you’ve not gotten to where you are without learning a little flattery goes a long way.

Heejin scoffs. “Oh, don’t lie. I’ve read your magazine. The profiles? I’ve met those guys and gals—fascinating is being rather generous, wouldn't you think?”

“Careful,” you say, punctuated by the end of your pen again. Click.

See, it’s the way her eyebrows twist over that coquettish smile. That's how she gets you - one out of twelve, you’re realizing why the cameras are stuck on her. And everything that comes out of her mouth just brushes effortlessly on the innocent side of frustration, of challenge. It’s hard not to indulge, even if just a little–

“I mean if I’m wrong, go ahead, feel free to correct me.”

“I was real sick of freelance work,” you answer, feeling the conversation start to de-rail. “Was tired of worrying about making rent. And it was just less of a total pain in the ass.”

There was a method. It was delicate, and usually you were quite good at it: you were supposed to be just funny enough to make her laugh, captivating enough to coax out something more than a monosyllable answer where you needed it, get her to like you, and then have her forget about you the moment she walked out the door. Hell might freeze before you could get her publicist to schedule a follow up, all because Heejin had chewed up the clock - had gotten herself interested. 

It’s probably wishful thinking to hope the sigh rolling through your chest doesn’t give too much of all that up. “And just why might you ask?”

Heejin reaches across the table and turns off your tape recorder. It’s here probably: where you should’ve been clued into the pieces, the board, the game in front of you. “Because you don’t seem like most of the others.”

“The others?” you answer, making careful sure not to sneer. “Are you suggesting that I’m–”

“Charming?” Heejin rises from her seat, and her hair swings behind her shoulders as she meanders about the room. “Oh, I’m declaring it. It’s not a subject for debate.”

When she finds a spot to lean against the table beside you, her skirt hikes itself just a few noticeable inches. You’re not trying to stare, but she is right there.

Okay, so you’re fucking staring. When it’s clear that you are, you drop your eyes immediately, starting over at the floor - you’re unsure what to make of it. Her boots jump out immediately, these black knee-high things with just enough of a heel to let her stand a little taller than your shoulders. Beyond them is the dress that’s tinier than she is: vermillion - not red - and hung tight around her frame, gaping perfectly to present her thighs and chest like they ever needed introduction. Follow her collarbones, the delicate skin on her neck, the bold red lipstick she decided would compliment the bow in hair like she’s some present waiting to be unwrapped, and yeah, okay, she’s cute.

You’d have perhaps made a mental note of how unconventional it was for her now to be looking down at you, arms crossed and smile slanting, but, she also just manages to plainly ask if you’re seeing anyone, so there’s little time to dwell on that transgression - and all with the casualness someone might ask how much snow that approaching storm was supposed to bring tonight. In nearly the same breath, she asks if you were holding onto any of those numbers girls handed you when you went out drinking. It’s confounding and it’s your head space and it’s rapidly becoming preoccupied and littered and busy.

"That surprises me," Heejin tells you upon hearing that it’s complicated. "I figured it’d be rather straightforward. What all with a smile like yours. And an ass like that—"

"You’re flirting with me."

Doesn’t matter that it’s so obvious you could’ve seen it from space - everything comes to a screeching halt after the words fall out of your mouth. 

You tilt your head, quizzical. 

Heejin’s chin cocks, ready to fire. "And what? Is that some sort of crime?"

It’s honestly hard to believe. She tosses you the question, recklessly unaware that doing that thing she does where she simply exists is almost criminal. Thoroughly disinterested in the fact you were having plenty enough trouble keeping your focus from sinking into the neckline of her dress. You watch her blink slowly while you struggle to get out ahead of this, and it has her discovering that smile again. “Oh. And I wouldn’t write any of this down either. You know, if I were you.”

Your hand must know how deceitful it sounds because it’s covering your mouth, trying to mask the words curling off your tongue:

“Look, I - Here’s the thing… you know it’s completely unprofessional.”

Heejin smirks, pointedly, like she’s recognizing something on your face that confirms each and every one of her suspicions. 

Okay, you were trying to act nonchalant, but all the mistakes keep adding up - have added up - gazing at her gentle, focused features long enough that you might inscribe them in your mind as something to hold onto when you walk out of this meeting.

“Hand me your notepad.” Heejin pushes her hand in front of you, expectantly. “The pen.”

You watch her lashes nearly fall onto her cheeks as her eyes dip into the lined paper, and then it’s just the sound of the pen. Scribbling.

-

If you're going to consider that the bare minimum requirements of your job probably forbids undressing in a random meeting room in the middle of a workday, it shouldn’t come as a surprise that the rest of the interview unfolds without incident. 

(Albeit woefully precarious.) 

Here’s what you learn:

Heejin’s life isn’t terribly interesting, at least the parts you can write about without fear of starting fires in the streets. The backstory has all these parallels you’ve come to expect. She’s the youngest of three girls, and you figure that’s where all the confidence comes from, if it isn’t the fact that she’s the kind of beautiful that inspires all this admiration and reverence and adoration to the point where it has people tripping over her. 

Her flatmates are apparently storied in their own sort of fucked up ways, and as she described them, you quickly realized that none of it would be able to fit into a publication like yours. Not that you’d stop the train of thought: Yeojin - a hopeless romantic - and Haseul - a total fucking golddigger - who were well on their way to fuck half the city at their current pace (you’re paraphrasing here).

So with that, you’re writing. The doc is completely blank, and you’ve deleted the first sentence god knows how many times, but you’re writing.

Heejin had mentioned she was taking piano lessons and music theory classes, but had piqued more of your interest when she opened up about a novel she was working on: “It’s fiction, and it’s about two lovers slowly growing apart.” She shrugged her shoulders when you asked if it had a happy ending and refused to go any further into it when you brought it up again (twice), but that’s more or less how these things usually go.

You double back to your notes where Heejin’s phone number is written neatly at the top with little hearts trailing off the last digit. Only it does little if any to help inspire the kind of creativity you need to do your job - inspire any thoughts beyond the way her dress tapered in at her tiny waist, how you’re pretty sure you could reach both hands around it and how light she’d be in your arms.

You should call her, springs immediately to the front of your thoughts.

And that’s how you know it’s bad. Something worth some sort of concern.

Oh sure, you’ve had a crush before - when you were the age where hormones were reeling through your body and had you, like a good portion of the world, needing someone to hump like a dog in heat. Fast forward to when you lost your V-card to the girl you’d been pining over for years and it failed to give you superpowers, you figured it was best to put your time and effort into anything else. You can relax, take it slow, get your work done, stop thinking about it.

Monday, you decide. 

She probably has plans this weekend anyway, and that is the rule isn’t it? Three days ought to give you enough suspense and pretense to illustrate that you’re not hopelessly fixed on the idea of pulling Heejin’s dress up around that fucking waist and hoisting her onto your kitchen counter where you could really just give it to her.

You tap your pen against your desk. 

Monday.

-

5:00 p.m. rolls around. 

You call.

The phone rings one too many times, and you’re within inches from just simply hanging up before you hear her speak. You actually jump a little in your seat and your knees smack into the bottom of your desk when you do.

“I thought it was completely unprofessional. You said that.”

“Yeah, well the clock hits 5:00 and maybe I’m having second thoughts.”

There's some idle chit-chat, nothing special while you both circle around the obvious.

“Know any good Thai places? I’ve been pretty in the mood lately,” Heejin’s voice comes through as the pieces begin falling way too easily into place. 

“I mean there’s plenty to choose from downtown,” you say as you pinch the neck of the lamp on your desk, still bobbing in place after you’d knocked it out of balance, “or one of those pretentious places that keep popping up in the old public market.”

“No, I mean, the editorial shoot ran a little late so I’m still here.”

“At the office?”

“Yeah. Hey - you know the photographer that goes around calling everyone boss? He’s, like, a total flirt by the way.”

“Trust me.” You laugh out loud. “That’s not the first I've heard of that. Pretty sure he’s even tried to hit on me a couple times.”

“Ugh,” she says, feigning all this disappointment, and it has you picturing how you’d seen her earlier pull in her shoulders so tightly as if to shrug with maximum effort, “You really know how to make a girl feel special.”

Your phone is cradled between your neck and shoulder as you scour the internet for something in walking distance - someplace that you don’t expect to see half your coworkers drinking away their Friday evenings - when you ask, “You give him your number too?”

There’s a brief silence on Heejin’s end of the line, only slightly unceasing. “I thought about it.”

“Sounds like you’re done thinking about it.”

“Guess I figured you might benefit from the head start.”

“Generous.” It earns something like a chuckle out of both of you, and you're shaking your head, answering, “I’ll be sure to pay it forward.”

-

Oh, it’s a terrible date.

Neither of you are anywhere so brash to explicitly say that, but look, it just so happens to be your job - splitting out truth from reality. You’ll call it how you see it.

Honestly, it’s a comedy of errors, but the real kicker is that the kitchen forgot to put in your order.

So, you’re trying, failing, to flag down your waiter, and you begin to notice the wine doubling its punches on an empty stomach when Heejin leans in across the table - one finger beside her temple and her other hand drawing circles around the rim of her empty glass.

“You know we could just… get out of here.”

It’s suggestive, but it’s hardly anything like a suggestion, because you’re right there with her.

-

Outside on the sidewalk you find the kind of snow that lands wet and heavy and threatens to soak through your clothes. And aside from a recent tire track or two, there’s a fresh blanket of it now on the asphalt. Every now and then, Heejin will flash her eyes over her shoulder as if to check and see if you’re still there, a footstep behind her. Like the sound of snow squeaking under your boots isn’t proof enough. 

“Okay,” says Heejin, in her unfailingly charming way, and trounces around in the snow in front of you, “so that was, like, the worst thing ever, right?”

“Nonsense. I’ve seen plenty worse. Trust me.”

She spins on her heel and you come close to knocking her over. “Sounds like you’ve got war stories.” “A few,” you start, laughing to yourself, “Here's one. This girl goes on and on telling me about the guy she just got out of a relationship with - and i’m sitting there thinking wow, this guy sounds a lot like a good buddy of mine.”

“And it was?”

You gesture slowly with your arms, something defeated and existential.

“Oof. That’s gold.” Heejin’s eyes flick to your lips, lingering however long it takes you to notice. She smiles, beaming. “But you know, with a little luck, I think someday you might just get it right.”

-

Heejin finds you somewhere in the harsh light of a streetlamp, fisting a hand into your collar. 

You’re watching snowflakes melt, like they were tears streaming down her cheeks, colliding against the warmth in her pale face - the vibrantly rosy hue now glowing across it.

Her lips aren’t dry or cracked or wind-bitten like you might expect in the middle of December. Your eyes trace them closely, these soft, featherlight things, and you don’t even realize how long you’ve been staring until she passes her tongue through them with an experimental lick.

“Oh,” she says, shockingly casual, “you’re into me.”

You’re laughing as your eyes return to hers. “You sound pretty confident about that.”

“Yeah. Guess I am.”

Heejin’s breath lands warm against your face. You’re simply suspended there for however many moments, the wool of your coats pressed together, watching lights glimmer and fade in her eyes. From this close you can count the odd freckle on her nose, her cheek. It’s probably the most intimate thing you’ve done in months, just standing there, breathing the same air.

Maybe ever.

Heejin doesn’t even say anything else, just looks, her eyes searching for something they might only find in yours.

“Hey,” finally says Heejin, in this choked, rasping voice, “you should kiss me.”

And you do.

-

Where are you two headed? The driver’s voice strains as if he’s been smoking religiously for twenty years. And from the way the cab smells - the stains in the upholstery on the ceiling - it’s as good a guess as any.

Once the door closes behind you and it shuts out all that wintery air, you lean in to where Heejiin is delicately removing the scarf around her shoulders. It’s yours and she’d wrapped it around herself twice, three times, and it made her look tiny. “Where do you want to go? Back to Hapjeong?” Her flat is in Hapjeong.

Heejin shakes her head. “How about we go find somewhere to grab a drink?” you ask.

She looks down, tracing her finger along her lower lip, and then lets her cheek collapse into her shoulder, eyes drifting back to you where you can see that myriad palette of golds and browns in her irises. “We can just keep drinking at your place, no?”

While you square away the details with the driver, Heejin folds her arms and closes her eyes, sinking into the back corner of the seat. Her silver earrings catch the light as the cabbie hits the meter and the taxi pulls away from the curb. Then it’s her dress, all that barely-there vermillion fabric, as if it had been tailor made to match the warmth in the back of the cab. Watching her, you come to a realization: there’s the story you’re writing, then there’s this story you’re living - all in want of a little inspiration. 

And you think maybe you’ve found it.

The taxi sways. Heejin talks. She talks about her life growing up. She talks about one of her sisters who is now in medical school and vomits at the sight of blood, how she was jealous that her siblings had turned out to be such brainy academic types - the kind of thing she imagined her parents were really secretly far prouder of - how she’d grown up fighting her dad tooth and nail to get where she is now - all these intimate details you doubt she’d shared often with anyone. Let alone someone she just met.

You listen - an occasional question every now and again woven into the soothe of Heejin’s lowered voice. And for the first time, you’re not scribbling out notes, building sentences as you do. Simply listen.

“You know,” Heejin starts, lidding her eyes and smirking in your direction. She could send a tremor through your heart, but she’s far less forceful than that. “I think it would be really rude.”

“What would?” you ask, confused. “If you spent the whole ride,” she pauses, and the elegant lines of her face scrunch ever so slightly while she fiddles with one of the featureless rings that rests on her middle finger. “–sitting over there.”

There’s a list of excuses, something to make it logical, but it’s never been quite this simple either.

You drift across the backseat, until you feel yourself press up against Heejin’s lithe frame, and the rest of the world might as well melt away to nothing beyond than the blur of passing street lights, the hum of ‘Winter Wonderland’ coming out of the radio in crackling bits and pieces, the pink blush still staining Heejin’s cheeks.

Holding her, you kiss her again. 

Near effortless as before. Your lips stuck on hers when you pull yourself away.

"So, remind me to set the record straight with my publicist," Heejin murmurs in the same hushed voice she'd been speaking for the entire ride, thumb rubbing the back of your knuckles in a manner that could lead you to believe she wasn’t aware she was doing it. Her lips curl at the corners of your mouth where these short, hot breaths fill your proximity. "Just a little despicable."

With a hand finding purchase in her hair - bundling between your fingers as smooth and satiny as it looked - you pull Heejin into you, seize her lips. Hard. If there had been any restraint, to this point, about the shy touches on your arm when you made her laugh, to the light hand you’d place on the small of her back guiding her through a door - since the moment she sat down across you in that interview - this kiss now threatens to become near tidal in intensity.

Together, those soft lips sliding against yours, it’s irreverent, it’s reckless, it’s cashing in on that chasteness a thousand times over.

Still, you notice this departure from everything about Heejin. Because there’s nothing elegant about the way you have her, your bodies rucking desperately in the backseat - unable to give two fucks about smashed knees or hunched backs. It builds up. It falls apart. A mass of wool struggles to fall to the side, hung and stuck around your shoulders, and effortlessly sliding down hers. As your tongues slip and rub, this tantalizing push-pull that makes even the heat-dry air of the cab feel heavy like you’re wading through the humidity of summer, you doubt the efficacy of it all. But it’s the hand that arrives at the nape of your neck, kneading as though to say good enough so that you might start pressing more of your weight into her; simply sink into her embrace.

Heejin’s voice sneaks out between long, shivery, bone-deep kisses - the sound of your name lilting off her tongue, she whispers, “Hey. I want you to–”

“Yeah,” you pant, knowing exactly what she means. Your fingers twitch at your sides, all this anticipation currenting through your body that makes you feel like an exposed live wire, the electricity forcing your heart beat into something erratic. “Yes. Fuck. Of course.”

It has Heejin guiding you by the wrist. Down her side. The absolute concave flatness of her stomach. To the hem of her dress. And when she finally relinquishes your hand - your fingers - she kisses you harder, claiming the swell of your lip firmly in her possession.

It takes hardly any effort to find her - up that skirt and between her legs, growing hot and wet and needy. When your fingers collide with fabric, fingerprints teasing across her entrance, she lets everything start to slip - a hiccup into your mouth, and shifting her weight gently in your hands.

This intense shudder travels through her entire body when your fingers dip down beneath the elastic hugging her waist. The kiss breaks. From those needy, watery eyes, there is little to lament - the way Heejin strains for air, holding her lip between her teeth as she lets a wet breath billow from her chest. Her lashes flutter, close tight, open again, and she looks at you, concealing the mirth in her smile. “Do you have any idea what I want to do with you?”

“I haven't the slightest clue,” you answer, flat and unamused, and you’re swirling your fingers against the wet heat between her legs as you continue to play a fool. “Tell me.”

“First I–” Heejin takes a deep breath and steadies herself when you fit the first knuckle of a finger inside her. “I want - fuck - I want you to sweep me off my feet. Literally, pick me up and carry me.”

“Okay, sure,” you say, like you haven’t been entertaining the thought all afternoon - like grabbing her and bending her over the first piece of furniture closest to your front door isn’t now the foremost thought racing through your head, “I’m sure we can make that happen.”

“Then you can take me and put me so tenderly into this big, cozy bed, all comfy and a little tipsy and there’s none of this - fuck. That, that feels really good–”

“Mhmm.” You’re half listening to the curses out of her mouth, how her voice hitches and sputters the moment you tent her underwear with your knuckles - the air she sucks in when you tease the sensitive nub between her lips. Between kisses that drag your lips all along her delicate jaw, the bruisable skin on her neck, you whisper, “I’m listening.”

The look of need and want in Heejin’s irises is a mirror of your own. And, just once, it’s a gentle touch that makes her keen. It’s debauched, it’s something glorious, the sound sneaking past her lips. You hear it. The driver definitely hears it; he’s turning up the radio.

“Fucking–” She laughs into the dark, voice strained and breaking at the pressure against her clit. Her mouth slants at the rhythm now in your fingers - motions that make her optimistic, and her lips part again, continuing:

“I’m not knee deep in snow and it’s warm and you’re there, just cuddled next me–” 

Heejin squirms again, interrupted; you’ve got her pussy creaming and tensing all over your finger.

Windows fogged, bodies digging deeper into the dark corner of the taxi, you study Heejin closely. Think about getting her off right there, about getting your fingers deep inside her and thumbing her clit until she’s shaking against you, about her cumming like that, back arching off the seat and ankles hooking around you.

It’s nearly tangible, the thought; her eyes flare and her chest heaves the more you fuck her slicked cunt with your fingers.

Heejin swallows. “And then - you start to undress me.”

It's been something akin to a virtue, and oft to your benefit, you’ve always been a good listener, so your fingers make course to slow, consider remorse, and continue on with only those gentle motions that keep Heejin’s eyes half-lidded and breath short. Nothing more.

“I do?”

“Yeah.” Heejin nods - even your vanishing touches driving her crazy, putting all this stress into the simple and composed features on her face. “Little by little. So delicate, like you - fuck.” You drag your finger back, grown wet and sticky. Let her finish the thought. “Like you’re unwrapping a present.”

Chin shooting up, you quip, “What if I’m the kind of person that tears wrapping paper to shreds?” 

“Yeah,” Heejin chokes out, “that’ll work too. But either way, then I’m laying there, kinda spacing out, practically naked and feeling really hot and soft and then I realize what you’re doing, dragging my panties down my thighs. I yell out ‘Wait don’t! I just met you and I’m very sincere about these things, so please stop!’”

“Oh.” 

“But here’s the thing: you don’t stop.”

“I would stop though.”

“I mean sure. Never mind that. It’s just how I’m imagining it.” 

“I see.”

“So then you don’t even hesitate. Just slide your pants down, pull out your cock” - the cabbie clears his throat from the front seat like he’s trying to start a lawnmower, but Heejin powers right through the thought - “and it’s just hanging there, bouncing. And it’s huge. So then I start telling you ‘No, you can’t, I’ve never done anything like this before.’”

“But you have.”

“Look, I just… this is just my fantasy. So then you end up–”

Okay, so it’s not virtue that got you here; your fingers are toying in her cunt. You can’t help it.

“Mnph, yeah - Jesus, okay, that feels good,” she whines, sneaking her hips toward you when you start to slide your slicked thumb all over her clit.

There’s a moment where her lips part, where she doesn’t speak anything at all, before she can steel herself and labor on with her point.

“Y-you end up wearing this really put out face, and I start to feel sorry for you and I’m - stroking your hair - while your head… while your head is in my lap, saying, ‘it’s okay, it’s okay.’”

“And that’s what you want to do with me.”

Heejin shudders as your fingers seek refuge deeper in her cunt. “Right.”

“This is what you want to do right now?”

“Yeah. Well, sorta.” She twists her lip before letting this wide, giggling grin fill out her pretty face. “Right now, what I really want” - you watch her gulp down another heavy swallow - “I really just want to cum on your fingers.”

It’s simple. You’re not far from your apartment, though the car gets stopped at every light, and even when it isn’t, it’s slow going on the fresh layer of sleet now troubling the roads - but it’s not like it at all has you taking your time. Heejin mewls slightly, and then she simply comes undone, gasping. Your whole hand is buried in her underwear, your fingers fucking fast and slick into her cunt, thumb mercilessly brushing around her clit.

“Oh my god,” Heejin whines into the palm of your hand, shutting her eyes tight as she sinks against you, sinks into the corner of the seat.

You’re hitting her basest desires with fingers that are all but destined to make her fall apart; straightforward, effortless, a perfect balance of touches light and heavy and destructive, you bottle lightning. 

“Mmmph,” Heejin whimpers.

Her back arches when she cums. With all these ragged whimpers leaking out from the spaces between your fingers. They’re inaudible, sort of. The radio is blasting. The same damn song even. Stars align, and while Heejin gazes into them - into the blackness that can only be found behind clenched eyelids - it’s simple: you kiss her hard again.

-

The two of you don’t fall into bed immediately. Not in the literal sense.

Heejin first gets her hands on you when you’re both standing in the elevator, quietly and mostly still, boots leaving gray puddling footprints on the floor. She looks like she’d been through a windstorm, and to some extent she had, but it’s mostly a direct result of your hands in her hair, your tongue in her mouth, the fact that you had her panting and sweating in the back of that taxi.

You’d had the quiet pleasure of watching Heejin’s legs wobble from the moment you spilled out onto the curb. Where she rested her face on your shoulder, pulled tight at the lapels of her coat like it might ever keep these gusts of snow-laden wind from freezing the skin around her eyes, and without saying anything at all, managed to demand your arm around her waist.

So, once the elevator doors close, and you’re feeling that temporary frost in your bones begin to thaw the further Heejin melts her weight into your side, it’s only natural: pull her into you, bury her nose into your collar.

You kiss her forehead.

In something close to reciprocity, she reaches a hand over your pants and grabs your cock.

“You’re, like, super hard,” her voice hushes into your chest, really leaning on that low, smoky tone. “You know that?”

“And what? I suppose that’s such a crime?”

“Maybe.” Heejin turns up to meet you, eyes glinting atop this expression - innocence feigned doesn’t even begin to do it justice - and balling up the collar of your shirt in her fingers. Bright eyed, knowing, she nudges into your side. “Just tell me what it is you’re thinking about.”

“Take a guess,” you say, running your hand through your hair. Like the nonchalance might make it less obvious you have this mental image, photographically vivid, of fucking Heejin’s tight body right into the wall of your foyer.

“Oooh.” Her eyebrows arched high, she looks you up and down, nodding while mischief skitters across her angelic features. “How many guesses do I get?”

“Three,” you answer. Then start grinning. “No. Two.”

“Two?” Heejin slides closer, her eyes hot. “That’s hardly anything charitable.”

“I have faith in you,” you say, and you’re reaching into her coat, finding the divot that runs down her back, where you can trace a finger up this zipper that you’re not entirely sure you can refrain from unfastening the moment you feel it’s metal shape between your fingertips.

Against your face, Heejin gives this small puff of amused laughter. “Okay, you’re thinking about…”

While her voice lilts and trails, she taps a finger to her chin like she’s trying to solve some intricate physics problem or ponder the secrets of the universe. Though by this time, the elevator’s doors have stuttered open in the haphazard way they always manage and you’re both surging towards the deserted hallway, laughing quietly and brushing elbows.

“I don’t mean to pressure you or anything, but you’re going to run out of time to guess,” you say, a hand dug into the inside of your coat pocket and searching for your keys. Heejin’s leaning her shoulder into the doorframe when you catch her looking, staring - you only manage to slip out from under that gaze when you come up with your key at last. “Found it.”

Heejin tilts her head, hair falling halfway over her face, and then pulls it back again. “You’re thinking about kissing me.”

“Surprisingly tame,” you say, scoffing as you turn the key in the lock and shoulder into your front door. “But no. Not quite. Oh, and leave your boots in the hall.”

It’s that second guess, neither incorrect nor entirely the truth. When it does arrive off her tongue, you have Heejin pressed against the inside of your door, now shut and finally private, and her tiny body in your hands where it feels soft and slender and unfathomably hot - oh, do you have ideas. Her breath mixes with yours, concocting something that tastes entirely sinful before she leans forward and traces kisses up your throat.

“Still. You are thinking about my lips,” she whispers into your ear, and it’s dripping with confidence, with suggestion, with another humid breath that hits you square on your cheek, “how good they’re going to feel wrapped around your cock.”

She studies the knot that forms in your throat as you swallow, eyes flicking back up to yours, and burning hot when you tell her she’s right. Lying, all on account of you not having the heart to let her know that you’d been harboring this errant thought, that for a greater part of the day, you’d been thinking of how she might fold over the kitchen sink, the living room couch - wherever - and fucking her six ways to sunday. She runs her tongue across her lips, like it might keep back these small bits of breathless laughter. And it has her unzipping your pants, coaxing them clear off your waist.

Right, proper intentions, and she’s smiling like she knows it: you’re both paving a road straight to hell.

“Jesus. You’re so hard,” she says finally, and it’s so blatantly sexual that a foundational shiver in your bones takes hold of you. What are you to do? Her fingers are deep in your underwear, fighting elastic, pulling at the skin of your cock when she gives you a final kiss that sticks to your lips, smacking. And then without any words to accompany her, she pulls the fabric around your thighs and sinks to her knees.

If this were a different kind of story, maybe you would sweep her into your arms, and ride off into the sunset and find a cottage in the hills that overlooks the ocean and live happily ever after and raise a half dozen kids. Because surely, a girl like her - perfect and flawless and near regal in the way she carries herself, like something out of the pages of a fairytale - belongs anywhere but planted into the floor of your foyer, dragging your underwear down to your ankles. 

If Heejin was anywhere but her knees, perhaps you two would fall into bed, where you’d leave her with all these sweet kisses that make her skin swelter and her voice choke at the way you’d press your lips to the hollow of her neck, her shoulders, her collarbones, and you wouldn’t even think of leaving marks or bruises. No, instead she’d whimper softly for you and the two of you could roll over to meet that simple conclusion.

Sure, you can always pretend like you don’t know what’s happening.

But that would make it a different kind of story, one painfully absent of Heejin’s tongue, placing a slow, measured lick right up the slit of your cock. Or fingers claiming your shaft, your balls, and pumping delicately toward your waist. Rising action unlike this pair of soft lips that purse and leave kisses down your length. A climax beyond releasing a load right into the back of that throat - which is only speculative in your thoughts for a second, because Heejin’s tightening her fingers around the base of your cock and dragging a smirk across her pretty face, “you should, like, totally cum in my mouth.”

“Right,” you answer, mouth drying; it’s a labor to even swallow. 

Heejin runs a semicircle over her lower lip with her tongue, flattens it, presses it up against the belly of your cock, and looks up at you - eyes round like the angel she is, pupils dark as three am and every bit as impious. Oh, you’ll struggle enough with this story as it is.

“Fuck,” she says, one time, nearly breathless, and it almost sounds reverent, “I want it.”

Before you can get even a half decent reply forming on your lips, you watch Heejin’s jaw go slack, and sucking in a chestful of air, she seizes you deep in the warmth of her mouth.

There’s then a moment - excruciatingly drawn out - where Heejin sits near motionless, sinking further into the floorboards. Her lips are pressed tight into this seal around you as she takes it slow, a silent effort to become familiar with your taste, your shape.

A flutter of muscle between her cheeks, and the moment passes. Her lips relax, tighten, relax again before you feel her tongue. Sliding. Curling.

“I–” You sink forward against the door, abandoning whatever thought and allowing it to curdle into laughter, into this seedy moan that Heejin rips right out of your chest. Somewhere along the way, you’d figured that since you were more senior, more seasoned, more veteran in an industry full of girls whose looks might leave you for dead - girls who, with a little praise, and just the right amount of attention, would look up at you like you’d hung the stars, the moon and the sky - you figured Heejin would be in your hands, melting.

And then there it is, eager to point out your mistake: Heejin’s tongue, again. It slides delicately over your head, and when she sinks her lips further down your shaft, you can feel it narrow and tease at the base of your cock. Her eyes are closed, but you can see how they crescent, smiling undoubtedly in something like victory as she hums against you, delighted.

“Heejin,” you start, wanton, and you’ve got a fist in her hair, gentle in how you bundle it all between your fingers, experimental the way you push her mouth further into your hips. There are two delicate hands coiled around your slobber-covered cock in response - and then she starts to twist. You nearly fold and collapse and crumple under your own weight, gasping, “you’re killing me.”

Heejin raises her head from where she’s been hollowing her cheeks and covering you in her spit, vicious stick of precum staining her lips. Grins, because she knows.

“I am?”

You’re tipping your head back, sucking in your next breath. Bucking your hips into her fingers - all ten of them lathering spit and gingerly pumping your cock. Impossible to ignore, they brush and tease all the spots that send you reeling as though they were returning to something familiar, had done it a thousand times. You swallow, and Heejin’s eyes trace that quiver through your throat. 

When it becomes clear that you’re not really in a state conducive to banter or ribbing any longer - the clever words out of your mouth now amounting to nothing more than a few four letter ones - Heejin just smiles, sloppy sounds of her fingers twisting around your cock, and she falls back into that deep tone, “you look so hot like that, by the way.”

You sigh, defeated, bunch more of her hair into your fist. And after Heejin pushes a fingertip to your slit, pulling the skin of your cock tight around it, your breath hitches, shuddering at the sight of Heejin playing with your precum between her fingers.

“Can you imagine?” she asks, pressing you to her cheek, “how good this is going to feel inside me?”

“Heejin,” you groan, worrying a lip between your teeth at how her light hands pump up and down your length, the precum weeping from your tip providing her fingers with that much more hazard in their touch. Your voice is stuck to your throat for a moment, grasping, “I want your mouth - on me.”

“Mmm.” She again has her tongue on the underside of your cock, velvety and slippery around your head. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You can feel it. Just the hot breath tumbled from her lips onto you alone reduces you to a bundle of nerves and coiled muscle. “I want more.”

“More what?” she asks, mulish, and a smile sneaks into the shadowy corner of her mouth.

“More - you.” It’s hardly even half a whisper.

Heejin has this quirk in her lips that stretches slowly against the tip of your cock, and her hands trace up your thighs, grabbing tight to the back of your ass. She nuzzles against you, and looks up, “then go ahead. Take me.”

Oh, you’ve had a crush before. The kind of thing that had your heart and mind racing; the kind of thing that would swallow up your time for weeks if you let it. So when you’re looking, gazing, watching this masterclass in showmanship: Heejin’s lips parting around you, her eyes smoldering into yours - that’s when the realization hits. 

This is so much worse. You’re truly fucked.

Fingers thread tight into her hair, and you’re guiding Heejin’s mouth - hot and wet and perfect - onto your cock. Slow, measured, her lips slurp and seal. Near five-foot-nothing of pure sinful delight, and tossed locks of hair resting across her face where they shimmer in the darkness of your foyer, you slip your cock inside her. Press between those soft lips. It’s a voyage, enroute to heaven; then with your hips selfish and stealing more of that tight heat, it’ll be straight to hell. Inches, sliding and sinking, Heejin shuts her eyes and relaxes her muscles, jaw gone slack - grabs onto your thighs like you had any intention of being anywhere but the bottom of her throat.

“Fuck,” you hiss, and the next sound that comes out of you is practically a living thing, wild and animal and nothing close to voluntary. 

Heejin’s mouth hangs wide and laxed for you to use, lips paradoxically tight, as you fuck your length over her tongue and deep into her mouth.The very prospect of asking for more is gluttonous, wicked and immoral, but here you are: thrusting your hips into her pretty face, pulling firm on her hair to keep the heat of her throat wrapped up around you.

“Mngh,” Heejin’s throat chokes the further you feed your cock into her - drag it back and bury into her again - strangled and straining, you can see the flush that floods her cheeks, the teardrops on the end of her long dark lashes, the unbelievable smile still in her lips.

All bets are off.

The pretense, the coy teasing, all that skirting about this clear predisposition toward fucking eachother senseless is further pummeled and ground to dust every time the tip of your cockhead punches the back of Heejin’s throat. And even beyond all that, Heejin holds firm to this composure, almost this plussed look of gratitude as you bruise soft muscle and steal the air from her lungs.

“Oh my god, Heejin,” you say, back arching into the space over the top of Heejin’s face, holding her head tight and fucking yourself on her lips. “Your fucking mouth.”

Triumphant, gloating, smugly humming into the spit-drenched skin of your cock, Heejin must realize she has you exactly where she wants you, trapped, fated: that under no circumstance are you going to unsheathe yourself from her throat until you’ve exploded and glazed it proper. She traces her fingertips down your thighs and hovers them about the hem of her dress, this bunched and furled mess of fabric at her thighs, pulls her panties to the side, and you can hear it - her fingers finding purchase in the mess between her legs. 

You slide deep into her throat; she pushes two digits deep into her cunt; you’re both reduced to the basics, chests heaving out these small noises of frustration. It’s a behemoth struggle to even think, let alone coordinate said thoughts into anything resembling coherence - but the first thing that falls out of your mouth is born of sincerity.

“Fuck, Heejin, I… I’m going to cum.”

She nods, as best as she can, the length of your cock slotted deep into her throat. Any kind of concerns you may have harbored - all from fucking her face, and drawing small tears at the corners of her eyes - they evaporate the instant Heejin’s tongue reaches forward past her lips.

Just one lick, between your balls while she has your cock entirely inhaled, and it sends you careening off course, destination hardly unknown.

“I–” your voice fades. Because the tip of her nose is against your waist, her tongue is doing fucking everything - she’s killing you. It’s all coming down, you’re falling apart, breathing in fits and starts, fucking Heejin’s mouth hard enough that if you weren’t holding tight to her hair, you’d have thrown her off you.

“Heejin,” you growl, voice sliced to ribbons.

When you finish between her lips, every burst of cum that spills from your cock sends a tremor, twitching and quivering through Heejin’s lithe body, and then you can feel it in her throat, tightening around you. 

“Mmph.”

“Fuck,” you gasp, uncontrollable.

“Mmmmph.”

Heejin makes this impressive, maybe futile effort to swallow it all down. Laudable, admirable, you’ve got it correct about her: anything less than perfection is tantamount to abject failure. With that, she struggles, her eyelashes flutter, and a strangled sound escapes her throat - choking and sputtering as you keep cumming, more than she can ever hope to take. It floods her mouth and spills from her lips to unveil this shiny streak that rolls down onto her chin.

Even though you’re still gasping and shaking and reeling from your orgasm, you recognize those taps against your hips immediately, how they beg for breath.

“Heejin, oh my god, I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry,” you say, horrified as it all starts to return to you, and when it does, you jump backward, unsheathing your cock from Heejin’s mouth. Gaze drawn to that profane mixture of spit and cum that follows lazily in its wake.

She waves her hand at you wildly, realizes the gesture is probably not the most reassuring thing she could’ve done, and instead holds up a finger as if to say give me a second as she catches her breath.

Coughing a handful times and wiping her mouth with the edge of her wrist, she slumps backward. Hits the door, face flush and eyes sharpened like daggers, pointed, ready to kill. And the moment she’s certain you’re lucid, present in the image in front of you - that you belong to her again - it becomes performative: the way she presents you her tongue, the space beneath it filled and drowned with your cum - how she swallows it, that dry knot traveling dramatically down her throat.

“Jesus, fuck,” she stammers out, the loss of composure only transient and fleeting, “not bad for two guesses.”

-

The first time you fuck your cum into Heejin’s cunt, you don’t anticipate it. If you’d been perhaps a kernel less distracted, a trifle less overwhelmed by the scorching slick between Heeijin’s legs, you might have had the pleasure of calling the shots.

But this is where you’re at, melting beneath it: all her porcelain skin spilling onto you and her hands firmly on your chest, nails like claws, claiming you as her own. 

She’d dragged you toward the sofa in your living room, made a one-off comment about how bad she needed you inside her and then kissed you hard. Of course, when you tumbled down into the cushions - still muddled in a half daze and caught off guard by the sheer pluckiness of it - Heejin had controlled the fall, making sure she was the one who landed on top.

“Look at you,” her voice is low, rasping, pitching when she crashes herself down onto you. Feels her pussy all full and creamed as she fucks herself with your cock. “Just relax, let me fuck you. You don’t have to do a thing.”

She has her ankles locked over your thighs, knees sinking into the cushions, and ardently rolls her hips, fucking your shaft - exceptionally sheened from her slick and every bit as hard - deep into her pussy. Hot, wet, unbelievably tight, it’s near immaculate. And it only grows unrighteous at the end of every frantic bounce from Heejin’s thighs. Because she’s tiny, legs muscled, abs chiseled to perfection - vivacious to the point of peril - and she’s riding you hard and fast and bringing you so near the proverbial edge that your fingerprints threaten to sear into her waist if not for the fabric of her dress twisted and stressing, surrogate in its place.

“Oh my fucking–slow down,” you breathe, fully enveloped by her heat. It has your nerves on fire, something wicked ablaze, begging for release, and with your teeth gnawing your lip, you throw your head back.

“Are you sure?” she says, and runs her hands through her hair. Hoists it off her shoulders, bundling it over head - the visual not particularly favorable to your condition. Her eyes dip across her cheeks and into yours when she decides to salt the wound. “This is slow.” 

“Heejin, I’m serious. You're going to make me..." you start, a final warning, and at the sight of you disappearing between her legs, you’re struggling, pleading, “I swear… fucking cum inside you.” 

Ruinous, pushing a callous boundary, she lifts herself up and seals your fate. 

“Fuck.”

This is how she gets you. Seats herself on you again, pussy slicked all over your cock and the tip of her tongue flirting in the shell of your ear, “I know.”

-

To what extent god will believe your account of these events - how much you believe, in relating the story, hot with lust and adrenaline and the hapless self-doubting confusion of a psychotic who knows what they saw and is still able to dismiss it - is not clear.

Because look, it’s not as though you were unaware that the power had gone out.

There was a noticeably loud crack of electrical disaster, and in an instant, the lights of your apartment, the delicate details of Heejin’s naked body in front of you, and even the incessant buzzing of the refrigerator motor - the very thing on which you could always rely to ruin the sanctity of silence - it all vanished.

It’d be pretty difficult to miss. 

Only, as it happened - mid stroke, thrusting deep into Heejin’s cunt and her tight body fucked flat into the cushions of the couch - finding the effort to care was simply a bridge too far.

It’s selfish, metastasizing into something wayward, playing the cards you’re dealt. Hands pushing Heejin’s tiny waist deeper into your furniture, and railing her reckless and abandoning all that teasing, the dirty talk - having finally managed to steal back control. It would take more than a force of nature to wrestle it away from you.

“Harder, please, harder,” Heejin rasps, seconds before you fuck her through her first orgasm. Her face sinks, voice flooded by the reality of your cock owning her tight cunt and vibrating through the cushion. “Yours, tell me - I’m yours.”

Without even thinking you do. Twice, punctuated each time by a sharp thrust of your hips into the perfect round of her ass. 

Mine, you say. And it has her absolutely keening.

Pressing yourself into her, your voice in her ear makes her quiver and whimper, like it was the one thing she needed most to help her cum. Heejin just nods, mouth stuck agape, when you call her a total cumslut - near imperceptible when she does, bathed only in the pale moonlight reflecting off all the snow and into your apartment. It’s not necessarily the limits of what you’ve done, what you’ve seen, what you’ve said, but you can see it from here.

“Is this what you want?” you ask, and you can taste all this pleasure coating each word off your tongue as you rail Heejin harder into the sofa, your cock sweltering in the fucked wet mess between her legs. Each time you bore into her, push her higher and higher, it fills her with ecstasy fit to burst. She moans, this foreign sound of depravity, and raises her hips slightly, shifts the angle - has you stabbing deeper, teasing, “do you want me to fuck you like the little cumslut you are?”

She nods again.

“Do you want me to fucking fill you up over and over again? Do you want to feel my cum in your tummy? You’re crying, practically sobbing, darling. All because you’re finally getting fucked and it’s all for me. Can you cum like this? Is my cock pounding your cunt enough for you? Or do you need me to use my fingers too?”

Heejin whines. Knocked down a peg, the realization hits, and it’s clear as day, leaking out of her mouth all filthy and depraved:

“Daddy, please.”

It’s almost unbelievable that this is how it will come together; you deep in her cunt and the soft, milky skin of her ass stained red from the sheer delight Heejin finds only at the end of an open palm. 

Biting ruthlessly into your cheek, you grip tighter to her waist, your other hand thread through her hair keeping her partially upright and ripping your name, curses, incoherence all from her mouth.  

“Then just be good for me, princess.” Your words are pointed, serrated, seeking to maim, to kill -  near as dangerous as the fingers you reach around her hips on onto her soaked cunt. “I’m going to fuck this cunt, you can cum whenever you like - I don’t care - I’m going to keep using it until I’m finished. Until you beg me to fill it again.”

(Okay, so maybe you’re not abandoning the dirty talk. But here’s how you see it: tables always have a way of turning. You’re not seeking revenge or anything like that, it’s just that when it comes to karma, she always arrives right on time and ever more the unexpected.)

-

It takes a substantial amount of shuffling around in the dark to clean yourselves up. Heejin’s dress is irreparably stained, totally fucked; sweat, saliva, your cum, hers - the kind of shit you’d be afraid to ever see under a blacklight - and you’re standing there, exerting just as considerable restraint to refrain from simply pinning Heejin against your closet door and having another go at her as she’s changing out of it.

So together, you’re settling into the darkness, finding a reprieve from fucking each other within an inch of your lives.

From a pitcher in the refrigerator, you filled two glasses with water, handed one to Heejin.

She gulps it down almost immediately, and when you trade yours for hers, she sips it slowly, watching the boisterous storm outside the window. The silence that follows is warm, comfortable, welcome, sits over you like a heavy blanket. 

Every ten minutes or so, an emergency vehicle making slow progress through accumulated layers of ice and snow will illuminate the inside of your apartment with its bright hazard lights. And it’s only in that brief spill of yellow and orange through the window pane where you can see Heejin clearly. 

Around her shoulders is a flannel shirt pulled off one of your hangers, buttons uneven and misaligned. When she had gotten her fingers to the final button and realized she was two short, she just shrugged and let the clothing drape skewed and diagonal over her tiny frame, sleeves hanging far off the end of her wrists. She managed to tie back this loose ponytail with a binder clip she found in your kitchen and it lets you study all the details of her face - without having to run your hand through her hair and hold it back: features elegant and simple, regal and composed, eyes brilliant and gorgeous. The kind of beauty that righteously demands a team of photographers poised for a perfect shot; she tilts her chin, puts a hint of suggestion in her lips, and they scramble to find the next one, all with the desperate intensity of a starving man gnawing at a bone. 

“God. You’re really pretty,” you say, and only when it hits your ears do you realize it came out of your mouth.  

Heejin just smiles, all genuine and natural. Points at the flashlight in your hand. “I think you’d get more light from a cigarette lighter.”

“Fuck, I know, I don’t have any more batteries.” You slap your flashlight against your palm, optimistic. 

Not much more than a dull, pathetic glow escapes its lens.

“Maybe you can steal them from something else?”

“I was thinking the same thing,” you answer, “but everything just plugs into the wall these days, what all even still uses batteries?”

“If we were at my apartment, I’d just go take them out of Yeojin’s–”

She pauses, raises an eyebrow and twists her mouth cautiously, sinking into the sofa next to you. Finds your arm around her and folds her legs beneath her into something considerably more compact. 

“Flashlight?” you ask, trying not to grin and sneer, “one of those flashlights with three speed settings?”

A single strand of hair falls in front of Heejin’s face. She blows it away and it stubbornly falls back into the exact same spot on her cheek.

“Promise me you won't write about this. It’s just… I have to tell someone.” 

“My lips are sealed,” you tell her, with the unwavering confidence of someone she could trust - which pragmatically you aren’t, but you’re both looking past all that.

“So this box arrives in the mail one day, right,” Heejin starts, pulling a blanket over herself, “And Yeojin sprints from her room, to the door, back to her room again, so fast that Haseul’s barely finished flipping the page of her book when it all happens. She’s already so small that you blink and you miss her, and in a lot of ways that’s what happened.”

“So she’s back in her room, with the vibrator.”

“Hold on,” Heejin says, tucking her feet into the blanket. “So we’re sitting there in the living room; I’m texting someone, Haseul’s reading something - I can’t remember what, but probably some cheap parlor romance - and that’s when we start to hear it.”

“The vibrator.”

“No,” Heejin says, flicking her eyes back to yours again, “the moaning.”

“Of course.”

“Now, I’m not saying… Look, there’s nothing wrong with masturbation. What’s greater than having sex with the person you love most, right? That’s what I always say.”

“You always say that?”

“It’s a figure of speech, you smartass. Anyway, we’re both sitting there, trying our best to ignore it, but it’s hard because this city’s built on a fault line, and they build these places so cheap so that they can tear them down and start over again without thinking about it, so the walls are, like, paper thin, and then after a while, Yeojin just starts wailing. I’m not kidding, it sounded like someone was trying to kill her.”

“I mean, in a way.”

“Right.” Heejin nods, brows furrowed and letting the memory come back to her, “I look up at Haseul, and she just goes about her business reading on about the adventures of some lovable-probably-clumsy-pretty-but-not-too-pretty-girl meeting the billionaire of her dreams and having all this weird, freaky, earth-shattering sex or something - she doesn’t even say a word.”

“And what exactly is she supposed to say?” you ask, “hey, what’s that noise?”

“That would’ve been better than just sitting in there in silence! Ugh, honestly, the woman’s always got a chip on her shoulder about this kind of stuff. Like, she’ll show up on a Sunday morning, and her knees are bowed and still fucking wobbling (so you know she’s been getting it good. All that irreverent, mind-blowing sex), and she’ll still have the audacity to look at us all judgmental for not going to church or maybe because we’re coming home still wearing last night’s dresses and heels.”

By this point, you notice Heejin has committed fully - with neither shame nor remorse - to stealing your blanket.

“So, I swear to god, I’m going crazy. Haseul’s just sitting there, and I can’t stop listening to Yeojin sobbing and gasping like she’s getting the best fuck of her life, and it’s this thought that grows and grows and grows in my head. I’m getting dizzy just thinking about it. And then, every bit as sudden as it started, it just stops.”

“Good for Yeojin, I suppose.”

“Right,” Heejin says, gesturing with her hand, defeated. “When she finally comes out of her room, her face is so so so red. Like, it looks like the end of a girl’s night out - after we’ve cut her off for the night, and after she’s cried and cried about some cute boy at the bar missing all her patented mixed signals.” Heejin takes a brief look at you, then back out the window, and puffs a small breath out of her chest. “The only thing I can even think at that point is, Jesus, I need to get my hands on that thing.”

“Do you?”

Heejin holds her finger up like she’s scolding your impatience. “So fast forward a few days, I’m digging through Yeojin’s closet when nobody’s home - and let me tell you, it’s like deep space in there, things go in and disappear forever; the other day I heard Sandra Bullock hollering from inside - but eventually, by the grace of god, I find it.”

“The vibrator.”

“The vibrator,” Heejin finally repeats, “This toy is silver, and looks about what you’d expect: like Steve Jobs was tasked with designing a banana. Beyond that, it was so complicated I almost didn’t even use it. Oh, and it wasn’t anything discreet either; there was this light that flashed when you turned it on and it practically lit up the whole room, these O-shaped strobing signals you could use to direct incoming flights at an airport.”

“Maybe we wouldn’t need to steal the batteries,” you suggest, and it makes a smile grow into the corners of Heejin’s mouth. “How’d it go?”

“With the vibrator?” Heejin puts her finger to lip, tracing it in thought. “I mean incredible, game-changing.”

“Better than just now?”

“Different.”

“It’s okay, it’s the twenty-first century, I’m not going to try and compete with a machine here–”

“Different,” Heejin repeats sternly, and you’re willing to drop it. “Come on by sometime when no one’s home and I’ll show you.”

-

“It’s really coming down,” you say once as you gaze into the storm, somewhere in the hours of the night that belong to no one.

Heejin slips further into your shoulder, eyes off the darkness out the window, the snow whipping across its face, looking up at you like you were the most interesting thing in the world. “Wonder how long it’ll take for them to remove all this mess from the rails.”

“I’m no expert,” you answer, “could be days though.”

“Bummer,” Heejin says, lips forming a kiss onto your collarbone.

-

“Are you sure you’ve used this thing before?” Heejin asks, resting on her elbows at the kitchen counter and blinking pensively at the French press in your hands. She looked on skeptically while you’d dug it out from a cupboard beneath the sink.

“Yeah, of course I have,” you tell her, exuding your finest false confidence as you run it back; the thing has been sitting in that cabinet collecting dust since you took it home as a white elephant gift almost a year ago. Shameful too, when you start to consider how much money you’ve spent at the coffee shops near your office and your apartment.

Heejin stares into her mug, her face lit by broken sunlight and still wearing that same perfected look. Only now it’s slightly different: hair tousled - rogue locks falling across her face and into the corner of her mouth where she could chew on it if she wanted - skin pale, the beauty mark on her cheekbone dotting her expressions like punctuation, a lack of sleep just beginning to shyly reveal itself beneath her eyes.

“I can see the coffee grounds in this.”

“You asked if I’ve used it, not that I knew what I was doing.”

Her lips curl back, smile huge, holding down either a laugh or a smirk - there’s no way to know - and finally rest atop the rim of the mug. “It’ll have to do.”

Only it doesn’t. Neither of you manage to make it through an entire cup, burnt, acrid, running on undrinkable.

That taste of bitterness lingers long after you’ve swallowed, and fills your mouth again when you press your lips to Heejin’s. She should be taking a cab to the station, should be boarding a train, should be trying to hide how fucked the bottom of her dress had become, should be looking at her roommates smug and gloating when she walks through the door. 

And you should be writing an article - about the girl you’ve seen wail and moan and sob on the end of your cock - who could just as easily turn it around, fuck you senseless like she has a knife at your throat. But this is borrowed time, an oddity, something like a glitch you figure, and you’re reaching under her thighs, pulling her into you like you’d simply hit an off switch on the responsibilities shadowed in your mind.

(You’re abandoning logic here because it’s the most natural thing in the world.)

There’s this reflexive quality to it, the way Heejin wraps her arms over your shoulders and legs around your waist as you lift her onto the counter. Sneaking into the space between long, soft kisses, she asks, grinning because she knows the answer, “If I'm stuck here, what are we going to do to pass the time?”

“I’m going to kiss you, probably.” Your answer comes before you find the shape of her impossibly narrow waist beneath an ocean of baggy fabric.

“Perfect,” Heejin says, voice carefree and charming and perfectly lilting, “and then what?”

“Then I’m going to get you all hot and wet and needy and you’re going to be begging for my cock.”

“You sound pretty confident about that.”

“Yeah. Guess I am,” you breathe into her neck, and it lands squarely on all this soft skin desperately in need of your lips.

She’s got a hand in your hair firm and grasping at you like she owns you - far less shy than the other at your waist, teasing the elastic of your shorts. “And then what?”

The wrong answer is anything that fails to mention ramming your cock in Heejin’s cunt or your face buried between her thighs and making her cum over and over. You laugh first, and then fail knowingly at the cross examination, “then I gotta get to work on that article, you know.”

Heejin lets out a sigh that could only ever be construed as disapproval. Palms the shape of your cock over your underwear. “Or.”

“Or,” you repeat. It’s her challenge. She can fill the space, continue the thought; you can’t get enough of hearing filth fall from her pretty lips while she looks at you all wide-eyed and perfect and like the princess you want to believe she is.

“You can take this cock of yours; the one I'm begging for right?” she says, fingers running down your underwear, rousing your length and finally cupping your balls. “You’re going to fuck me with it and fill me up with cum.”

“Cumslut.” It’s perplexingly endearing, and you brush your nose against hers, trace your thumb along her jaw, catch the swell of her lower lip on the tip of your finger.

Heejin smiles.

“Daddy,” she says almost cautiously, but immediately starts slipping these quiet little bits of laughter in the silence it creates. She’s yours, your hers, it’s all doomed and fated at this point, especially at this point - scribbled into cosmic law and her eyes holding you like they were made for the very purpose - you’re sure of it. “I’m not letting go of you until you fuck me.”

The heater has been off for hours, so the air in your apartment is frigid; simply getting out of bed was the kind of thing tibetan monks might do - walking across coals, self immolation, venturing out from beneath the warm covers in the morning, that kind of thing. And It has you perfectly content to take that bait in front of you, burying yourself deep in the scorching heat between her legs; turning her around, and doing it again. Making her cum like that and then letting your own orgasm drip out between her thighs.

“I’m not playing around,” Heejin says, having watched you laugh quietly to yourself about the absolute vice she has you in - and beyond the legs pulling you closer.

“One time,” you concede.

“Yeah.” Her hands pump your cock gingerly against your underwear, and Heejin agrees, “One time.”

It doesn't take long. You turn Heejin into this whimpering mess - her legs and hips suspended above the counter and ankles thrown over your shoulder. She falls apart, moaning still like it isn't slicing her voice to bits, all rasped and ruined, and you fuck her through her first orgasm. Her thighs shake and quiver while you fuck her through the second, railing into her cunt like it had insulted you.

“Fuck, that’s amazing,” Heejin pants, head rolling onto her shoulder, and her cheeks are so red you have to believe her. “Oh my god.”

She’d gotten only through half the buttons on her shirt before she became too cock-addled to figure out the rest, and it hangs ever so slightly off each of her dainty shoulders - agape enough for you to watch her small breasts jump every time you thrust into her.

Each long thrust into her heat has both your voices flooding, desperate. The way your thighs slap together all wet and raw only adds to the scene - this fucking filthy score of moans, curses, sex. It’s probably always been your instinct to pound like this: reckless, careless, selfish - and here Heejin is, begging for it.

“Go ahead,” she says, eyes lidded, still catching her breath, and it’s the most seductive thing you’ve ever heard, “I need you - fucking use me, fucking take me - need you to breed me.”

(It’s hot, you think. Maybe you’ll ask about it later. Maybe you won’t.)

So yeah, you cum. 

It’s one of those eye-clenching, blood-boiling, ear-ringing, teeth-gnashing orgasms that has you making a groan so inhuman, so broken and unbecoming, that it has Heejin laughing in response. She’s patting your sides, lips planted on your neck, cooing while your cock continues to ache and pump cum into her wet, fucked hole.

“What was that?” you ask, breath hitching and your body sinking into those light arms wrapped around you.

“What was what?” She’s got it so casual, so carefree, still so utterly charming - it makes you feel as though you were the one who’d said something out of place.

“Um. Don’t worry about it.”

-

Oh, it’s probably written in the stars, this mess between you, orbiting, circling, bound and tied: not even a half hour later, she leans over the sofa where you’ve set up with your laptop, kisses you once, and you’re reduced to nearly nothing but the kind of desire that will curdle into lust and threaten to eat you from the inside out should you refuse to yield to it.

“Really. I can’t. Not now.” It’s bravery or something. You’re lionhearted and incredible and you deserve a pat on the back.

Eyebrows knitted, she pouts at you when you explain once again that you have work to do, those pretty pink lips downturned into obvious disappointment, and you almost, very nearly give in.

-

Heejin pulls a book from your bookshelf four times, flips through it and rejects it, before finally settling on an architectural survey of Frank Lloyd Wright’s greatest hits (you’d also received that in a white elephant exchange).

There’s a photograph of Fallingwater on the front, and Heejin licks her fingers each time she turns the page.

She lands on the sofa next to you, lying long ways with her head resting on the padding of its arm, the same one you’d buried her face into less than twelve hours ago, and the two of you do technically manage to fit, only her feet cram into you and stab sharply into your thigh.

“You, uh, a big architecture person?” you ask, sparing a glance from your laptop to the girl nesting into the cushions beside you.

“Not in the slightest,” she answers, “I’m just bored to tears because someone would rather play with their computer than play with me.”

You give her a more pointed look, probably more akin to the attention those beautiful eyes of hers deserve. “I’m telling you: my editor will hang me from the rooftop if I don’t get this thing in her hands by Monday.” “That seems extreme.”

“Hey, that’s why she gets her salary and I get mine. I’m not paid willing to commit a murder money.”

She holds back a laugh, and leans forward, pulling her knees to her chest. “So what you’re saying is you’re a procrastinator, and I’m the one who gets to suffer for it.”

“Yeah, and you’re blameless after all.” You rake your fingers through your hair, running the past twenty-four hours through your head. “It doesn’t help that we’ve been at it like rabbits.”

“Like what?”

“Like rabbits.”

“Like what?” she asks again, this huge toothy grin stretching across her soft lips.

“Keep it up, go ahead,” you answer, shaking your head, “and who knows, you might just get what you’re asking for.”

-

When the power flicks back to life in your apartment, Heejin stands in the doorway to your living room and flips the wall switch off and on a few times. She has her hand on her chin, as though she’s musing and considering what all the value of electricity might bring - near a hundred of years of civilization now at her fingertips - and you have no idea that she’s about to rip you away from your work with four simple words:

“Wanna take a shower?”

You tilt your chin over the screen of your laptop, and logically, you reek of sex and sweat. Every now and again, you’ll scratch your nose or hold your hand over your mouth and you can still smell Heejin’s slick on you, stuck to you, its indomitable linger.

Heejin simply stares at you like she knows you're hers.

And if you’re thinking logically, you’re making progress faster than you expected on this article, words hitting the page and flowing freely. Logically, it would be near criminal for Heejin to be in your shower, her petite body all soapy, slippery and glistening, and you not there to see it, touch it, fuck it until she’s cumming and moaning your name and the sound of it echoing off all that tile–

“Yeah,” you say, clam-shelling your laptop and tossing it aside, “sure.”

-

There’s a certain quality about the renewed coyness, this sense of competitive playfulness, perhaps something diffident brewing between you, Heejin, and the four walls of your shower.

Leisurely, you both wash as though you’re not dying to jump one another's bones, like you’re both not reliving each and every orgasm on some sort of highlight reel played back through your thoughts.

Water falls to the ground in heavy spurts, loudly splashing after it pools and rolls off your bodies. And inside that cloud of steam, wrapped around you both like a blanket, Heejin catches you staring at her perfect figure just one too many times.

“I’m just cleaning,” Heejin says, voice grasping at its highest register, and she wraps her fingers around your cock. “So, you know, don’t get too excited.”

You’ll spin it around, turn on it’s head, get your fingers gliding along her slippery pussy all the same, and you’re right there with her, saying, “Right, just cleaning.”

“Imagine that.” Heejin’s pumping your shaft, perfecting it with this twist at the end that has you roused and ready and aching for more. “You spend all day, playing hard to get, and I just had to touch you?”

“Who says I’m going to fuck you?” you ask, a little too breathless, a little too obvious of a lie. Heejin presses forward and presses her lips to your chest, little kisses trailing across it.

“Fuck it, me, I’ll say it.” She wraps tight around the head of your cock, squeezing tight and making the water between her fingers squelch. “You’re going to fuck me. You’re going to press me up against this glass, and you’re going to fuck me.”

Heejin’s eyes light up when you smile, laugh because it’s true, and pull her up into your lips.

It’s not particularly a great kiss. It’s maybe a little too wet, far too much tongue, a little mean, but it sets the stage: when you’re cock is finally lined up between Heejin’s lips, teasing - relentless you might add - and her tiny body is pressed so hard into the glass that your only lament is that you can’t see how it looks from the other side.

You slowly enter her cunt, so slow it makes Heejin whine and groan, and you flirt your lips against her ear, “ask for it.”

“Fuck. Give it to me,” she spits, and you can feel her open wider for you when she does. “I need you to fuck me, please, please, fuck me. Or I swear–”

You never hear what’s on the end of that threat, because she doesn’t get the chance to tell you that you fucking better, that she’ll kill you if you don’t fill her up and make her cum, that it’s the literal end of the world if your hard cock isn’t buried so deep in her cunt that she sees stars.

She doesn't get the chance because you’re pushing into her, fast and hard and all at once.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” her voice shakes, curses starting to flow like you’d ruptured a vein. She turns her head, cheek flush with the shower door so that you can see how her eyelashes flutter every time a stroke hits hard against her ass.

It’s intense. It’s calculated. Passionate and uncontrollable. You’ve become so full of contradictions that it has you ready to burst, explosion imminent. You don’t even need to hold onto her hips, because she’s fucking you, jerking her hips back and forth and fucking herself full of your cock - liberating your hands to reach up her sides, gather soap and water and sweat beneath your fingerprints, hold tight to her firm breasts while you bury your face in the soft skin of her neck.

When she collapses to her knees, legs wobbling and pussy quivering off your cock, she doesn’t even say anything. Simply turns and takes you into her mouth, stroking and sucking you until you can’t take it, that fucking tongue reaching all over and spelling out your end–

“Yeah,” you croak, the word some sort of lifeline, a warning, “Heejin, I–”

She pulls you out, lips smacking, and with three words does more damage than you thought she was ever capable: 

“On my face.”

It only takes a few pumps from her hand, her tongue still harassing the belly of your cock, and when she flattens it, opens her mouth wide and ready for a mouthful of cum, she has you simply acting on instinct.

It’s certainly novel, what you’ve just done. It’s in her eyes, it’s on her cheeks, you fucking cum so hard there’s strands of it stuck in her hair and stained to the glass behind her.

“Jesus,” you say, rolling back into the stream of hot water, cleansing your soul of sweat, of cum, of sin, “I just came on your face.”

Heejin smiles, eyes shut like her life depends on it, and puts a hand out expectantly, “yeah, so give me a fucking washcloth.”

-

“I don’t know, I guess I don’t really have any,” you tell Heejin in the breath after she’d asked you what your kinks are.

She leans forward, wipes at the steam covered mirror until you can see her reflection raising an eyebrow at you. “Really,” skeptical.

“I mean, seriously, is that really so hard to believe? I get off to pretty girls. You got me. What a villain I am.”

“Anal,” she says, turning to you and leaning against the vanity counter. Her face is still flushed and you can see the faint outlines of your palms and fingers on her chest, but she seems sincere about it - whatever it is.

“Yeah?”

“What do you think about it?”

“About anal?” You set down your razor, towel off your face. “Sure, why not, but I’m not going to sit here and say it’s my kink.”

Heejin threads her fingers under your chin, along your jaw - admires the fleetingly smooth skin that she might only ever find at the end of a shave, and cocks her head. “Threesomes?”

You laugh at the question, the sheer absurdity of it. “Are you asking or inviting?”

She toys with her fingernail between her teeth before she answers, “asking.”

“Well it depends. Who’s in it?”

“Me,” Heejins says, and she’s got her brows quirked; settles this huge predatory grin into her expression. 

She holds her lips next to yours - never quite kisses them - wraps her arms around your neck, shuffles a little and moves so that she’s straddled between the counter and your waist. She shimmies her hips and you almost groan, because now you recognize it: that’s Heejin’s shimmy. The silly little thing she does whenever she’s asking for sex without having to ever actually say the words.

“It’s a promising start. Who else?”

“You,” she says, flatly a matter of fact.

“Mhmm, okay, maybe I'm in.”

“Honestly, more than anything...” Heejin’s voice trails, and her lips pucker. “I just want to see you buried in Haseul’s ass.”

“Okay then, maybe I’m back out.”

“Sleep on it maybe. Do you wanna know mine?

You recognize the caution filling your throat, and then promptly being neglected when you ask, “Is it breeding?” 

Heejin just smiles, laughs like it isn’t incriminating. Her lips come close to your earlobe, you think she’s going to lick it or bite it or god knows what, but somehow it’s worse:

“I just fucking love your cum.”

-

“Don’t you have somewhere to be–”

You’re not annoyed with her; it’s just that yesterday night was when the trains started moving again, and now it’s almost five o’clock on a Sunday and you’re wondering when this particular journey comes to an end, if it comes to an end. There should be a credit scroll, a fade to black, some sort of keystone to socket in place, you figure, and you’re asking what should be an obvious question.

“–or at least some place you can get yourself a proper pair of pants.”

Leaning over the back of the sofa, eyes scanning your laptop, Heejin ignores the question entirely.

Year of the Rabbit: Heejin, the girl next door, only farther away than next door.

Sometimes she’s blonde but dark at the roots, sometimes she’s tall but only with the help of certain shoes. She’s everything, anything she ever wants to be.

When she first sat down, she wandered into the interview like a second semester-senior, not only at ease with the system, but a little beyond it.

“Hold up, what the hell is this title?” she asks, pointing to the top of your document. “You’re so far up your own ass there’s even a colon right in the middle of it.”

“It’s a work in progress,” you say as you slouch into the sofa, “and besides, the beauty comes out in the edits.”

“I certainly hope so,” she says, worrying the corner of her lip between her teeth, and fixing her eyes back on you. “I was planning on staying for dinner.”

“Of course you were.”

-

You decide, possibly against your better judgment, to walk Heejin back to the train station.

Although the city had resurrected itself, like Lazarus after a party where the guests had run out of wine (you’re not totally sure about this one), and started to put all its miserable pieces back together, the sidewalks are still a total fucking mess. You’re both there trodding along, navigating through the absolute, dreadful shitslop of snow and dirt when Heejin asks, “You’ll call, yeah?”

“Sure,” you answer, like it was in your power to resist the very idea of it.

“Hey. After all, if you don’t, I know where you live.”

You point in the direction of the turnstiles. “Mildly threatening.”

“I could always wait in the bushes.”

You agree, tugging gently on a strand of hair that had come loose from her ponytail. “You absolutely could.”

#heejin smut #loona smut #male reader #loona heejin smut #kpop fanfic #kpop smut

[raythekiller]

Ticci Toby nsfw alphabet :0? please and thank you!

🗒 ❛ NSFW Alphabet ༉‧₊˚✧

Featuring: Ticci Toby

#Notes: ugh i love him sm

pronouns used: none, gn! reader

˗ˏˋ back to navigation ´ˎ˗

A - AFTERCARE

Super touchy feely and gentle. Will clean you up himself, you don't even have to ask. Cuddles afterwards are a must.

B - BODY PART 

Another chest guy, boobs or not. His hands just gravitate towards it as you're having sex.

C - CUM

Likes coming on top of your stomach the most. Since you're normally barebacking and he doesn't want to risk anything, he pulls out last second.

D - DIRTY SECRET 

Well, he thinks it's a secret, but everybody knows he's never even kissed anyone, let alone had sex before.

E - EXPERIENCE 

As mentioned above, no sex experience, didn't even watch much porn like other guys his age, which is why he normally likes you taking the lead.

F - FAVORITE POSITION 

Matting press. Doggy if he's the one getting fucked, he's too embarrassed to let you see his face.

G - GOOFY 

He's more passionate than funny, since he takes it quite seriously. Will crack a few jokes after it's done, though.

H - HAIR

Actually pretty well groomed, likes to keep his junk clean. Too much hair and he feels gross. Not clean shaven, but fairly decent.

I - INTIMACY

Super romantic and passionate. The fact you want to do something so intimate with him makes his heart flutter, so he wants you to feel appreciated as well.

J - JACK OFF

Doesn't do it too often, never did even as a teenager. When he does, he doesn't even watch anything, just silence as he works his magic.

K - KINK

Here's a full post on his kinks.

L - LOCATION 

Doesn't want to admit it, but in the middle of the woods. Loves the idea of fucking you against a tree and the risk of getting caught.

M - MOTIVATION 

Mentioned this before, but dirty talking is a HUGE turn on for him. Just whisper something in his ear and he's yours.

N - NO

Similar to Ben, doesn't want to do anything to hurt or upset you, like impact play or degradation. Unlike Ben, he won't budge no matter how much you tell him it's okay.

O - ORAL 

Giving, definitely. Even though he has no experience, he's a fast learner. Won't stop until you've come on his face.

P - PACE

He gets a bit desperate, so he might now be as slow and sensual as he wants to. The thrusts become messy and fast after a little while.

Q - QUICKIE 

Prefers to take his time with you, so quickies aren't a very often occurrence. He wants to make sure you're completely satisfied.

R - RISK 

Pretty open to experimenting. Other than that, the most risk he'll take is, again, public sex in the forest.

S - STAMINA 

Oh, he'll go on for hours without breaks. It's insane the amount of energy he has. Though he comes pretty fast, he'll make up for it by coming multiple times in a row. As many as you want.

T - TOYS 

Doesn't own or like them that much, honestly, but if you wanna try it he's all game. That being said, strap-ons are a completely different story for him.

U - UNFAIR 

Can't tease or handle teasing. Doesn't mean he doesn't like it when you're a bit cheeky, though, but he gets worked up super fast.

V - VOLUME 

Fairly loud, also a whimperer. Doesn't speak much during sex, just incoherent ramblings about how good you're making him feel. He gets fucked stupid really easily.

W - WILD CARD 

Fucking loves it if you scratch his back while he's pounding into you. He can't feel it anyway, and it's a sign that he's doing a good job.

X - X-RAY

Pretty good size, about 8 inches, not too thick. Curves a little to the left.

Y - YEARNING 

Not too horny, honestly. You're gonna have to initiate it most of the time if you wanna get laid with him. Not that he minds.

Z - ZZZ

Can't sleep for a good while after. He just holds you untill you go out and stares at your face lovingly, tucking any stray hair behind your ear.

#creepypasta #creepypasta headcanons #creepypasta x reader #ticci toby #ticci toby x reader #ray.writes #ticci toby smut

[tan1shere]

Motel Whore pt 2

Ellie Williams x female reader!

A/n: you GUYS the second part is hereeee I hope you lovelies enjoy it!

Warnings: angst, smut just the same that was in the other one practically. Drinking, Ellie being an ass but not for long. Fluff at ze end 😋

Summary: You and Ellie started a fwb. But you want more. She doesn't see that nor notice how you've been acting. You're just her. Motel Whore. (Yes this is based off of the song Motel Whore by Nessa Barrett!)

Masterlist

Pt 1

You didn't know how. But you did it. You had cut Ellie off completely. You were currently just in your apartment, in the dark with the blankets cuddled up to you. You hadn't spoken to anyone. Nobody. Not even Dina, which made her worry also. You just couldn't bare going outside, going with the friend group in case you ran into Ellie. You couldn't face her, nor did you even want to after the last time you saw her. You went home, crying your eyes out. Cursing yourself for agreeing to this.

You're not a friends with benefits girl. You want love. True love that actually means something. You couldn't keep hurting yourself, but how that didn't even work. If anything you're hurting more. All these thoughts and they're all of her. You were infact inlove with Ellie, and you needed to try get your mind off of it. You just didn't know how.

Ellie texts you from time to time, asking why you don't answer her anymore. You ofcourse don't answer those. You just can't. You were sitting in bed, watching some TV in the dark in hopes to get your mind off everything, it wasn't working that great when you hear a knock on the door, startling you completely. "In a second." You begin to get up bringing the blanket with you having it drape over your shoulders. You go to open the door.

"What the fuck Is going on with you." Said a very concerned looking Dina. You sigh going to walk into your apartment more not even wanting to talk. "Uh uh don't do that." She says following you in. "Spit it out." She says. You turn around. "Just not feeling the best Dee.." You look down. "You know what I think you need. Is to party." You look at her bewildered. "Actually I need my bed." You were about to walk back into your bedroom as you say that but she swiftly grabs your arm. "Nope you need fun, and.. color." She looks around your apartment, looking at the dullness that's overcome it. "Come on, you might even meet someone." You scoff at her comment.

"Fuck that 'someone' I'm not even interested." You sit down on your bed, looking at her. "Pleas, just for tonight then you can come back and mope around about whatever the fuck it is." You sigh once again. "Ugh, fine." She smiles at the response you give. "Right let's get you dressed into something, slutty!" You laugh slightly as she says that. Maybe this could be the distraction. And who knows maybe you could meet someone. You just prayed that someone wasn't Ellie. You did not. Want to see her face tonight.

You had just arrived at said club, walking in with Dina. "Drink?" You think for a second. You weren't a drinker. At. All. "Fuck it yeah why not." She looks at you very surprised. "Actually?" You nod. She then orders, handing you the glass. "Now, you don't have to go fast just-" but you hadn't listened to a word, downing the liquid. "Pace yourself.." She finishes with a small laugh. You shrug with a smile, feeling it burn slightly, not use to this kind of tang.

"Having fun?" Dina yells over the loud music. It had been an hour or two since you had arrived, you and Dina were dancing like there was no tomorrow. "Loadsss." You slur, definitely out of it. But honestly, you couldn't really think straight right now, bit you did feel good. No hurting, no thought, nothing of- "Oh look there's Ellie!" Your eyes go wide, immediately ducking off into the crowd trying to get away from Dina. "Ellie!" She calls out. "That makes another-" Dina wips her head around to try find you. "Y/n?" You were almost sprinting in your drunken state, so much so you hadn't realized you bumped into anyone.

You stumble but thankfully they catch you. "I'm so sorry- I wasn't looking-" You ramble. You look up at the figure. It was a male with light brown fluffy hair, he smiles at you. It seemed to be genuine. "You're quite alright." He was British, saying everything so beautifully. He notices your state. "Have you come here alone?" He looks quite concerned. You shake your head. "Oh, no I'm with a friend, but I just-" you couldn't even remember what you had been doing. "I can't remember-" You let out a choked giggle. "Ok well why don't we take you back to your friend." He gently grabs your wrist when you hear  your name?

"Dont fucking touch her, can't you see she's clearly drunk." Uh oh. It was Ellies voice. You look to see her coming over here with Dina. You were left confused by her statement. "Was just bringing her out of harms way actually." Ellie scoffs. "Yeah sure you were buddy. I don't believe you even for a second." She goes to grab you to take you away. "And what makes you think you could do such a thing." He stares at her. This poor guy, he seemed like he only wanted to help. "Dont fucking do that I know her." No you don't.. you don't know anything about me.. you think to yourself. Everythings all coming back again.

"How do I know you aren't just saying that." Ellies getting angry. But why? Why does she even care so much. "You aren't funny." She spits. "Do you see me laughing?." Dina is now over, just behind Ellie. "What's going on?" She looks at everything that was happening. "Trying to bring someone that's under the influence to her friend, when this bird. Is accusing me of the complete opposite." Dina looks at you. "I know them." He looks at you as you say that. "Are you positive?" You just nod. "Alright, please be safe." You thank the man and go off with Dina. "You alright." You nod. "Jackaas." You then hear Ellie mumble to herself. You can't even believe her right now.

"Let's get home yeah?" Dina speaks breaking the barrier of awkwardness. You agree, and so does Ellie. It was pretty silent on the way back, as Dina drops you off at your apartment. But Ellie gets out too. You shrug it off just wanting to get into bed still slightly drunk. "Oi." You don't look at her as you fiddled with your keys, getting in and setting your bag down. "Hello I'm talking to you-" "what Ellie what." You turn around abrupt and cold. Glaring at her. She mirrors it. "What the fuck do you mean what? You've been ghosting me forever." You turn back around turning the lights on and taking off your shoes. "No no, you're gunna answer me."

You scoff. "Why the fuck do you care so much. You have other bitches." You spat. "What the fuck is going on with you. You're acting like an idiot." You let out a dry laugh. "Im the idiot?" She nods. "That is what I just said, wasn't it?" You wanted to punch her, squinting your eyes ever so slightly at her. Silence took over for what felt like the millionth time that night. "Tell me I'm more." You say softly, trying not to burst into tears. "What?" She looks very confused. What on earth did you mean. "Tell me. Im more." She stands there, trying to figure out what you were saying. "Your more?" She says unsure. "I promise I'm more.. more then a God damn motel whore." Boom. It clicks in Ellies mind. "Now get the fuck out." You spit with absolute venom. She's stunned. But you weren't playing.

As you watched her leave, the water works started flooding back again like a tidal wave. You really are stupid. You had fallen for someone who didn't give you even a single thought. How foolish of you. How stupid. You fall to the ground letting it all out now. Feeling hopeless. Desperate for something. You had no idea what it was but you just wanted to be held. Tighter than you ever would have imagined. But that wasn't possible. Dina was gone. You didn't really have anyone else. Lost. That's the perfect words for this all.

Why can't I be lovely.

Why can't I be yours.

I'm only your babydoll when you get bored.

Sobs, as you lay on the floor. Feeling like your eyes are burning. What is wrong with you. Stop this. Oh but you can't. You can't even stop thinking about her after she hurt your brain. You couldn't forgive but you wanted to so bad. You shouldn't. But you wanted to so bad.

I wanna be precious.

I'm left on the floor.

Crying in desperate.

Darling, what am I for.

It was a few days later. Nothing had changed. You were in your room, dark. Gloomy room. Not even doing anything just laying on your bed. You'd say you were thinking but you had nothing more to think about. Your brain felt fried. Empty. Which was a good representation of your aching heart. Like last time trouble occurred there was a knock on your door. Again. But this time you don't do anything. You don't want to answer it, to whomever was on the other side. You couldn't. They knocked again. "Go away." There was a pause. "I-its me.." You were shocked at first but slowly that turned into anger.

"Leave me alone." You say, shouting slightly. "Please I just want to talk.." You were torn on what to do. Answer it. Be hurt again. Don't answer it. Keep hurting. Either way you weren't changing your mood, so you pull yourself out of bed, not even caring how you look, as you open the door. "I-" She looks at you, softening her look. "I'm so fucking sorry. Why didn't you tell me?" You look at her, not even sure how to respond. Standing there, wanting to sob again. But you didn't, it felt like you had nothing left to let out. "Did your mother raise her daughter, to love a lady like a corpse." You then blurt out the only thing that came to mind. She let's that sink in. "Oh Y/n.. I'm so fucking sorry you have no idea." You nod. "You're right. I don't."

"You wanna know something." You shrug. "Might as well you've hurt me enough." But then you think. You want to rip your hair out at that. It's not even her fault it's yours. You shouldn't of even agreed in the first place. You're the one screwing up. "No Ellie, you don't have to explain. I let my emotions get in the wa-" "and I didn't let mine." She blurts out looking at me. I furrow my brows. "What?" She smiles. "I've always been interested in you. I just never thought you'd ever feel the same." You swallow, still confused. "So you-" She keeps talking cutting you off. "Everything that happened it was my fault. I felt horrible the last night after I left you asleep.. I was realizing half way through what I had just done. It was obvious you weren't comfortable. I felt like a right asshole afterwards. But then you didn't seem upset or anything so I shrugged it off. I shouldn't of I realize that now." She finishes.

You were dumbfounded. "Are you telling the truth?" She nods. "I'll prove it to you. That's if you let me ofcourse." You tilt your head. "I wanna fuck you." You stood there looking at her like she was insane, but she giggles. "That's not funn-" "With so much love and adoration that you'll explode." She says coming closer and rubbing your chin gently. Hearts formed in your eyes, that's all you ever wanted. "Sooo is that a yes?" You smile at her. "Yes that's a yes." She smiles at your smile, missing it deeply. She picks you up so gently you melt into her touch, as she brings you to your bed. "Let me take care of you.. it's what you deserve."

You nod giving her full permission, she slowly goes to kiss all over your face, making sure to keep the soft manner. She gently goes to take your shirt off continuing the soft kisses down your neck, breasts, stomach.. hips. Everything was so delicate. In a way that was making you go crazy for her. This is all you ever wanted. Especially with her. She goes to take her shirt off, something she never really did, you couldn't help but stare. She was beautiful. "You're so pretty Els." You say gently. She gives you a sweet smile at your compliment. "And you're so amazing." She goes to take your pants off still keeping with her soft demeanor. It was all so lovely.

She then proceeds to take hers off. You look at her a tad confused. "More intimate angel." You crumble as she says that, is this even real? You nod at the response regardless. She goes to line up perfectly, sinking down onto your body. You both let your mouths drop slightly at the instant connection and softness. She then begins to move on you, both of you letting out noises of pleasure. "F-fuck, I regret not doing this sooner." You watch her as she keeps going. "Els.." She let's out a grunt. "I love you." She says. You stare at her in pure shock. Bringing her down by her hair and kissing her, she kisses back with so much passion. You felt it, that feeling. "Ellie i-" She just nods. "Me too, me too. Together yeah?" You nod also cumming shortly after along with her.

She flops onto you, laying there playing with your hair. There was a comfortable silence. "I love you too Els." She smiles. And for the first time ever with her. You felt safe with the aftercare. No leaving to go to someone else. Cuz she was yours. And you were hers.

#elliewilliams #ellie williams smut #ellie the last of us #ellie tlou #ellie williams #ellie williams the last of us smut #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader

[bootyquaker9000]

Future! Rise! Leo N$FW headcanons

ROTTMNT

🔞‼️N$FW

For everyone who is feral and down horrendous for this man😭 not proofread btw

- breeding kink 🤭 not even in like a he wants to get you pregnant way (he might tho), I think cumming inside you is his way of claiming you yk yk (and ofc respects if you don’t want him to)

- the moment you beg or ask him to cum inside you, he is. so fucking much. buckets. OMG he would pass out if you ever told him you love his cum

- size kink??? 🤭 perchance

- brat tamer but still gentle he doesn’t want to hurt you

- He HATES condoms. Honestly might not even own any. I can imagine that mutant genes are pretty weird so like idk if he can impregnate you anyways (and obviously if you don’t have a uterus you don’t have have to worry about that anyways)

- Switch. He can play both dominant and submissive roles perfectly, but prefers to be top

- but if his partner is on top he’s such a brat

- LOVES vibrators. Could and does use them on you for hours (inside you, on your clit/tip, on your nips)

- ^ and hey, if you wanna use one on him he’s not gonna complain at all

- ^along with that, this man WILL overstimulate you until you’re crying and begging your whimpers just make him so hard

- wouldn’t really be into is degradation or humiliation. he only wants to give praise and be praised. Would only degrade his partner if they REALLY wanted him to but after he feels really bad and lowkey embarrassed

- It turns him on so much and he could genuinely cum just from hearing his partner moan (or scream 🫣) his name

- very open minded to trying different and new things in bed

- He’s so fucking loud 😭 grunting, groaning, moaning (+ whimpering if he’s bottom)

- ^ he’s always loud, but he’s SO much louder when his partner is on top. especially when he’s getting head

- BIG INTO ORAL giving and receiving. will tell you how good you taste.

- FACE SITTING. After a long day of training and working all he wants is to come home and have you sit on his face.

- has THE dirtiest mouth 😭 praising tf out of you, telling you how tight you are, how good you feel, how hard you make him, etc.

- but he can also be rlly sweet w/ it too if he feels like. ex.: telling you how beautiful you look when you cum for him

- he is a FREAK in the freakiest way

- definitely at LEAST above average in terms of size

- steals your underwear

- god he is such a fucking tease 😭 loves to edge you until you’re practically in tears begging him to let you cum. he just wants to watch you squirm

- tying you up

- ^ will tie your hands behind your back with his mask while he’s hitting it from the back

- “I missed you so much” whispered to you as he slides it in after not seeing each other for a while

- UGH CALL HIM ‘SIR’ and he’s gonna bust right there

- riding his thigh 🤭

- ^ honestly just riding him in general drives him crazy

- Isn’t into slapping or any kind of pain really with the exception of you ass. it doesn’t matter if you got a fat ass or not he’s smacking that shit. leaving handprints on it fr

- He will fuck you in public with absolutely no shame even if you get caught

- ^ he could dick you down in the middle of Pizza Hut and be unfazed

- Quickies 🤭

- Really into roleplay

- He’s rough in bed but makes sure he’s not hurting you

- Holds your hand 🤭

- His heat/mating season is ROUGH. Both metaphorically and literally

- Cockwarming fan!!! specifically with you in his lap or while spooning

- MELTS if you tell him how good it feels, when you beg for more, really any kind of praise at all

- An ass guy all the way, but (if you have them) he also loves your tits

- loves watching you struggle and tells you how well you’re doing

- REALLY, really good aftercare

Things he would say in bed:

“You can take it.”

“For me?”

“That’s it…”

“Such a good girl/boy.”

“You’re doing so well…just a little bit more.”

“Hm? Use your words, baby.”

“Look at you…Poor thing. So needy.”

“Yeah, you like that? Bet you wanna cum so bad, huh?”

“I know you need it…just hold on a little bit longer.”

"That's right, baby. Just enjoy my cock."

"Too much? You love it, don't you?"

"You're mine, aren't you?"

“Stay just like that, beautiful.”

"You make me so hard just by being near you."

"You did so well, baby.”

“You feel so good.”

“Feel how much I love you?”

“Feel how much I need you?”

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum so hard for you.”

#rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt movie #future leo #rise leo #rise future leo #rottmnt future leo #rottmnt leo #rise leonardo #rise leo x reader #rottmnt leo x reader #rottmnt future leo x reader #n$fw #rise future leo x reader #rise movie #rise of the tmnt #rise of the turtles #rottmnt leonardo #rottmnt future leonardo #rise future leonardo

[junicult]

Hello!! I love your posts! Are there any physical or emotional attributes that the bachelors love about you? Can be nsfw, or sfw, whatever you want! No pressure❤️

!! what the bachelors love about you

contains ; some nsfw! fluff. suggestive. fem!farmer. minor desc of reader (very very brief appearances). facial. reader is hinted at being fairly social or enthusiastic. smut (harvey & shane). reader wears makeup. not proofread.

note ; i really tried to make this entirely sfw but i couldn’t help myself i’m so sorry 😭😭

harvey.

- there isn’t one thing this man can pick that he loves most about you.

- ever since he first met you, he always found you so beautiful, and when he got to know you he’s never fell more in love.

- so picking a favorite? that’s hard.

- there’s parts of you he enjoys some days more then others. but that’s not to say he doesn’t enjoy them all the time.

- like, you could just be casually talking to him and he can’t help but think, “her eyes look so beautiful today.”

- it’s not like he hasn’t noticed how pretty your eyes looked before, he just really noticed how pretty they look right now.

- but if he had a feature of yours he’ll never get enough of, no matter how many times he gets to see them, feel them—

- it’ll have to be your hands.

- your slightly calloused palms from your hours of farm work. you keep your hands clean any time you have the chance, washing and rubbing lotion on them.

- how no matter how much you work with them, they’ll still be soft to the touch when he gets to hold them.

- lacing your fingers together, quietly humming about your day and it might look like he isn’t paying attention bc his eyes are glued to your fingers.

- when you softly run your palm down his arm, squeezing his shoulder and leaning up for a kiss.

- when you cup your hands around his cheeks just to gaze into his eyes.

- he can’t help but feel a little sorrow when he’s at work, and he reminds himself of the fact that your hands aren’t in his.

- it’s such a subtle display of affection,

- yet it’s his absolute favorite. he can’t get enough.

- another one is when you say his name.

- it makes his attention perk in a way that doesn’t really work coming from anyone else.

- don’t get me wrong, he loves when you call him petnames, like, “baby,” “sweetheart,” or “honey.”

- they’re so domestic, it makes him swoon when he gets to remember the fact that he’s all yours.

- but when you say his name,

- ugh.

- it just reminds him of a time when you weren’t dating yet.

- when he’d spend his days and nights pining after you, thinking about you constantly with red flush heating his cheeks.

- where he would spend hours of the day wondering when you’d walk in to take up his time, and when he’d get sad if he didn’t get to hear a chipper, “harvey!” from your familiar octave bursting through the door.

- there’s nothing like it.

- when you’d so sweetly ask if he needed any help, tapping on a “harvey?” at the end so he could really melt in your hold.

- idk, it just does something to him.

- once he heard you say his name, he never wanted to hear his name any other way again.

- which also adds intoooo🥁🥁

- how you moan. (🎉🥳)

- sorry, i had to.

- it’s an insane confidence booster.

- when he buries his head into the crook of your neck, his ear just over your mouth so he can hear and feel every pant that leaves your lips.

- it’s like, he’s not even doing that much. just moving at a rhythmic pace, one that’s at the perfect speed for the both of you,

- and every time his hips meet yours, you can’t help but exhale a short, high-pitched moan.

- but that’s nothing compared to when he eats u out.

- it’s a completely different kind of pleasure,

- for you and him.

- when your head’s thrown back, fingers tight around his fluffy dark strands and you’re just so fucking loud.

- when your breaths stutter and your back starts to arch,

- and all you can get out is a weak, “fuck, harvey—“

- he’s finished.

- & so are u lol.

sam.

- another man who’s not picky.

- he’s already a pretty carefree person. super go with the flow.

- a himbo, if you will.

- and he’s so cute. i feel like there’s just air wafting around in his mind at all times.

- so whenever you’re in his presence, or he even just catches a glimpse of you, he’s like, “my girlfriend!!!”

- not a thought beyond those eyes besides you.

- he just loves your lips.

- how they move when you talk, how they curl when you’re mad, how they pout when you’re sad.

- how you use them against his, whether you’re making out with him, or just planting a gentle kiss to his temple.

- they’re so soft, and perfect. always so moist from your chapstick.

- and they’re just so pretty too. you’ll catch him staring all the time.

- he’s the type to want to kiss you goodbye, and then say “one more,” about a thousand times.

- he’ll find you all the way across the farm just to kiss you.

- HE’LL WALK A MILE JUST FOR A SINGULAR KISS.

- for this next one, i feel like i need to explain myself a little.

- he loves when you’re sick.

- HEAR ME OUT!

- no, he doesn’t love when you’re doubled over in discomfort, nose stuffy, head achy. he doesn’t like that aspect.

- but he does like the aspect that puts him in charge of you.

- as a man with a lot of allergies, he’s no stranger getting sick.

- which, as he’s gotten older, he’s more used to taking care of himself, and knowing what his body needs to heal.

- but that doesn’t stop you from caring of him, making sure he feels better.

- so on the rarer occasions when you get sick, he gets to pay you back.

- he gets to pamper you, do all of your work for you, cook (order food) for you.

- and when you’re bedridden, he gets to sit by your side, rubbing your sore muscles and keeping you company.

- it’s even better if you’re kinda stubborn, all, “i can take care of myself 😒” until you’re attempting to do your chores before sorta collapsing on the ground.

- and he won’t “i told you so” all in your face, but he does kinda give you a look that‘ll pretty much say it all.

- like, 🙂

- he just gets to grin and go back to taking care of you.

- finally, he loves how you comfort him.

- he’s not afraid to be emotional. if he has to cry, he’s gonna cry lmfao.

- he doesn’t cry too often, he’s usually really optimistic. but when it comes to seeing people he loves all sad, he can’t help it.

- like, if vincent were to come up to him and ask him about his dad, and if he’s ever coming home;

- that always makes him so sad. bc as much as he wants to, he can’t really give vincent a straight answer.

- he loves that he doesn’t even really have to say anything to you for you to realize he’s sad.

- his head hangs a little low, and just by one look you can tell all he needs is a hug.

- that means everything to him.

- when you just pull him into your chest, running your hand through his hair and up and down his back while he quietly sobs against you.

- if he didn’t think he could love you more…

shane.

- ur his sunshine.

- whatever your personality is, you guys could be so similar, and you’re still his sunshine.

- whatever u do, no matter what, you’ll always light up his day. and he loves u very much for that.

- he might not be the most expressive verbally, but he’ll definitely show you with smaller gestures.

- a small kiss on your cheek, resting his chin on your shoulder while you stand at the stove.

- and he’ll latch onto you as you try to get out of bed in the morning, pretending to be asleep while you struggle to leave.

- his favorite thing about you is how you smell.

- listen. when you’re in love with someone, their  pheromones become addicting.

- like, yes you’ve been working on the farm all day. yes you’re all sweaty. yes you need to shower but does he care? absolutely not.

- “how was your day?” he’s already leaning into the crook of your neck, kissing your jaw and ignoring the way you whine.

- “shaaane, i’m so dirty.”

- oh but…he loves it.

- “never bothered me.” he just shrugs, smirking like a bastard before pulling you in for a kiss.

- that earthy scent of yours that just reminds him of what makes him so comfortable.

- don’t even get me started on after u take a shower.

- ur all clean, your hair is all wet. you look so pretty, and you smell amazing😭😭

- you just always smell so good to him. he’ll become intoxicated just by burying his face in your hair sometimes.

- he loves the way you look at him.

- it’s such a subtle thing for him to find one of his favorites about you,

- but he still loves it.

- when you’re just intently listening to him talk about his lousy day, your gaze is glued to his, head nodding along.

- you could be doing something else while he’s talking, but it still looks like he’s your main focus.

- and when he pauses, you’ll quickly mumble, “then what happened?”

- you’re so good at maintaining eye contact with him, it makes him lose his train of thought sometimes.

- he might just stutter, and then give up all together if you continue.

- also…

- they way u look up at him when ur…yea.

- big, wide eyes that gaze up so softly. your eyebrows pinched, mouth wide taking him entirely.

- he groans a little, and you don’t even have to do much if you just keep looking at him like that.

- “good fucking girl, yeah, that feels so good,”

- his jaw is slack, own eyebrows threaded while your hand wraps around the part of his length you can’t quite reach.

- he doesn’t last that long.

- pretty quickly he’s cumming on your face, making sure to get a little on your pretty, fluffy eyelashes.

sebastian.

- your teeth.

- lol.

- when he first met you, he instantly clicked that you had a nice smile.

- the way you grinned at meeting someone like him kinda just stuck with him.

- like, what was so exciting? why are you that excited?

- needless to say, he kept thinking about it.

- once you started hanging out a bit more, and eventually started dating, he got to see you smile much more often.

- especially when you hung out with sam around, and he was able to make you laugh, it was like music to his ears.

- he made it a silent goal to always see you smile.

- it sounds weird, i know, but he just loves the way your teeth look when you smile that big.

- the way your cheeks plump up, and your eyes squint a little. he’s just obsessed.

- your smile makes him smile, y’know?

- he also loves how you talk.

- it’s so quick, and when you get all excited over something your words start to jumble and not make much sense.

- but you don’t even realize it, so you’re continuing to spew word-vomit until you finally calm yourself down (with a little smile.)

- and he can listen to it all day.

- his favorite thing in the world is when you come home with a new story to tell,

- bc then he gets to sit there, watching your limbs characteristically fly about as you explain.

- and you keep backtracking, like, “wait i forgot to say that—“ and “oops, that actually happened before that,”

- it just makes him smile.

- no, he doesn’t really understand what’s going on. but it’s still entertaining.

- lastly, he loves your cooking.

- you’re not some gourmet chef or anything, but you do know how to follow a recipe.

- he’s a pretty straightforward guy.

- he knows what he wants and what he likes. yet somehow, when you’re cooking something new, he can’t help but be excited.

- the real cherry on top is when you spent the day with robin once,

- and she ended up teaching you her recipe for pumpkin soup.

- he was nearly speechless when you handed him a freshly made bowl, one just like his mom would make.

- he definitely fell in love with you all over again.

alex.

- he’s a simple man, i’m afraid.

- …he likes ur ass.

- smacking it, squeezing it, overall just looking at it whenever you walk past.

- whenever you pull him in for a kiss, his hands are falling down to your ass and giving you a gentle squeeze to raise you to your toes.

- he literally doesn’t care if it’s big, or small, or anything. as long as you have one, he’s absolutely fine.

- a simple man, i said.

- like, wear just underwear and a t-shirt around him and he’ll lose his mind. trust.

- he’s an absolute sucker for makeup.

- yes, of course he loves when you’re comfortable enough to walk around bare-faced with him. maybe even a goopy face mask over your skin.

- he thinks you look beautiful either way.

- but he swoons a little whenever he sees you all nice and dolled up, especially on nights that he planned to take you out.

- it’s like you put in extra effort to make yourself look extra nice, not necessarily for him, but he likes recognize the fact that his plans made you dress up like this.

- he’s just like, “aw, you look so pretty, baby.”

- also loves when u kiss him while wearing lipstick. he won’t wipe it off.

- his favorite though, his all time favorite…?

- how you treat evelyn and george.

- like they’re not just in-laws you have to get to know just bc ur married to their grandson.

- you treat them they’re your own family.

- you’re so sweet, and patient. especially with george.

- sometimes before you were married, he’d come home to the fresh smell of cookies in the oven (something that was pretty common) but then he’d see you listening to evelyn’s feedback so intently.

- and you’d cheerfully hand him a cookie, like, “look what granny taught me! does it taste good?”

- ofc it tastes good. the two most important women in his life made it just for him.

- it kinda tugs on his heart strings a little.

- i feel that was the moment he realized he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, if you were so willing to spend time with the people he loves.

elliott.

- once again,

- there’s not much he loves more then anything else you do.

- he loves every part of you equally.

- but much like harvey, there’s still a couple things that he sees you do, and he’ll just think, “i love her so much.”

- and that is☝️

- your voice.

- he could listen to you talk forever.

- he’s literally leaning in, hand on chin, head tilted, listening so intently as you tell a story that’s ten times less interesting then he’s making it look.

- he’ll also keeps asking you question so you just continue to talk.

- he especially loves when you call him petnames. it makes his stomach flutter a little when he hears them in your voice.

- another thing is he loves your hips.

- how they fit so perfectly under his palms, just before he wraps his hands around your waist.

- if you have love handles or hip dips, OMMMGGG he’s fucking obsessed.

- it’s like a little spot for him place his hands.

- he loves to kiss them whenever he’s already down there. just like a little silent praise, on top of plenty other he’ll give you.

- it’s so random, but whenever he sees you holding a laundry basket or something against one hip,

- yeah. that’ll do it.

- you’re kinda like his muse.

- if he’s writing something, and there’s a female character that happens to be loved or romantic towards, he’ll always kinda characterize them off of you.

- like, they’ll have some sort of aspect that’s similar to yours.

- it’s always subconscious, he can’t help it.

- he’s always thinking about you.

#ੈ✩‧₊˚ headcanons #: ̗̀➛ jo writes !! #hello??? 400 followers are u guys KIDDING?? #THAAANKK YOUUUUUU ;;;; #sdv harvey x farmer #harvey x farmer #sdv harvey #sdv harvey x reader #sdv sam #sdv sam x farmer #sdv sam x reader #sam x farmer #sdv shane #sdv shane x reader #sdv shane x farmer #shane x farmer #sdv sebastian x farmer #sdv sebastian x reader #sdv sebastian #sebastian x farmer #sdv alex #sdv alex x farmer #sdv alex x reader #alex x farmer #sdv elliott #sdv elliot x reader #sdv elliot x farmer #sdv elliott x farmer #elliott x farmer

[laenordeservedbetter]

heyy so hear me out obsessed ghostface Sam...

But I Love You!

Words: 2.1k

Pairing: Ghostface!Samantha Carpenter x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Sam would do everything in her power to make sure that you remain hers no matter who she has to stab in the way.

Warnings: (18+), killing, violence, manipulation, cussing, suggestive themes, unhinged Sam(?), confusing ending, not proofread (i had a long day and i'm tired). lmk if I missed any.

The italics in the first few scenes with reader & sam are Sam's inner dialogue/thoughts. This doesn't follow the scream timeline. Here, Sam never left Woodsboro, Tara's still in school, and Sam became Ghostface.

not my gif. || masterlist || previous work

—

It started with an attraction or in simpler terms, a crush - the foundation of all things relationship related.

You turned up to her workplace by chance, caught up in the middle of the storm. It was common sense to stop driving and find a secure place to stay for the meantime. The diner Sam worked at was the closest. That’s how you found yourself acting as the cloud that would pour water on a certain place. Your day had been terrible. You were late to work, customers were more irate today than the previous days, and you forgot to bring your umbrella before leaving. Clothes soaking wet and droplets of water pouring on the floor, Sam was bound to notice you.

At first, her blood boiled. After all, she’d have to be the one to clean up this mess. But when she took a glance at you, her heart skipped a beat. The makeup on your face was smudged, your hair a tangled mess, but damn, “You look beautiful.” Sam whispered.

Your head snapped up, noticing someone else’s presence in the room for the first time. “What?”

“I said, ‘how can I help you?’” Sam silently cursed herself for slipping up.

You don’t notice the lie. “I’m looking for a place to stay for an hour or so. Just until the rain calms down. And maybe food?” The woman has an unreadable expression on her face. “Don’t worry, I have money, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

The woman smiles kindly, “Oh, I wasn’t thinking that.”

“Oh? What were you thinking, then?”

“That you might need a change of clothes.” Sam gestures to your outfit.

“You’re probably right.” You say, “Sadly, I don’t have anything else to change into.”

Sam bites her lip, weighing out her options. “We have a spare uniform in the back.” She relents.

“That’s kind of you, but wouldn’t your boss be mad?”

Ugh. Roger.

“Don’t worry, I’ll deal with him. The only thing you should focus on right now is making sure you don’t get sick.” Sam walks to the room that says ‘staff only’ and comes back less than a minute later to hand you the clothes. “Here. You can change to the bathroom over there.” She points to the lavatory.

“Thank you so much. You’re an angel.” You say, taking your time to go to the bathroom to avoid slipping.

Once Sam hears the door close, she looks to your car parked outside. She can’t let you leave. Not yet.

She grabs her umbrella hidden under the counter and makes her way outside, making sure the bathroom door is still closed before popping the hood of the car open, removing the rotor piece. “Nice and easy.” Sam mumbles, pocketing the piece. She rushes back in the diner, hoping to be there before you can question her whereabouts.

You exit the lavatory wearing the uniform given to you by the kind stranger.

It fits her perfectly. “All good?” Sam asks, handing you a towel.

“Yes, yes. I can’t thank you enough. Not many people would go out of their way to help a stranger.” You shiver, putting the towel around you like a cloak.

“I’m just doing my job, ma’am.”

“Please. Call me Y/n.”

“You have a pretty name.” She says.

“Not as pretty as yours. . . Samantha.” You squint your eyes to read the name on the tag of her blouse.

Sam’s brows furrow, “How did you know my name?”

“It’s on your tag.” You point out.

Sam laughs, like, really laughs. The laugh-at-your-crush’s-jokes-even-if-you-don’t-find-it-funny kind of laugh. What is happening? “Fuck. Sorry. I’m not used to pretty girls complimenting me.”

“Somehow, I find that hard to believe.” You take a seat at one of the stools near the counter, smirking, “You must have dozens of women and/or men lining up at your door. With that face and kind heart, anyone could swoon.”

“Nope. Trust me. There’s no one.”

“More chances for me.” You do a fist bump in the air, not caring how stupid you looked. “Yes!”

You see Sam’s eyes widen as she tries to look away.

She’ll be the death of me.

-

As predicted, your car wouldn’t start. Sam gladly offered you a ride to your apartment, where she then asked for your number. You had no hesitation and gave it, thinking her intentions were pure. And they were.

Mostly.

-

That was eleven months ago.

You and Sam are together now and the crush bloomed into something more.

She was the perfect girlfriend. Good-hearted, gentle, caring. You thought you had hit the jackpot until the cracks in your relationship began to show themselves.

At first, it was the little things you noticed whenever you were together in public. Sam always had an arm around you. It didn’t matter if it was your waist or your shoulders or locking your arms together. She wanted to make sure the world knew that you were hers, which was fine. She wasn’t ashamed of you. Though, whenever someone looks at you too long or if they flirt with you despite Sam being there, her grip on your body tightens a little, but not too much to the point where it hurts.

The more time you spent with Sam, the more your friends started to get worried. It’s not healthy, they said. She’s keeping you from seeing us!, they argued. As soon as you shared their worries to Sam, she took effort in dispelling your doubts, telling you that your friends were envious of what you have and that it was normal to spend more time with your girlfriend than your friends, added by reassurance that there was nothing to worry about.

You chalked it off as Sam trying to look out for you.

After all, she is your girlfriend.

Then, there was that moment at a party.

It was a gathering for work. A room full of rich snobs and picture perfect careers. You couldn’t stand it, but your attendance was required. The only upside was that the company allowed you to bring a plus one. Naturally, you asked Sam and she said yes.

Even though you were elated that she agreed to go with you, you didn’t consider the possibility of not being able to talk to her much throughout the night because of strangers chatting you up. Some of them had the intention of asking you out. Though, upon seeing Sam’s deathly stare, they backed off. All but one.

The guy, Michael (tall, brunette, green eyes), would not stop leering at you with a mischievous grin. You felt sick to your stomach, uncomfortable by the way he looked at you, but not being able to do anything about it since he wasn’t actively trying to pursue you. Still, it disgusted you.

Sam’s hold on your waist remains, her jaw clenching, a clear sign that she was getting antsy. “Can we leave?”

You nod, “Yes. They’ve all seen me already, I think. We can finally go.” Despite the looks given to you by Michael, you tried your best to not let it dampen your mood, smiling at your girlfriend.

“Good. Come on.” Sam says, leading you to her car without so much as a smile.

“Hey, Sam, are you okay?” You make her look at you, holding her face in your hand.

Her gaze softens, “Yes, I am. Don’t worry about me. Are you okay?”

“Other than the way his eyes made me feel, I’m fine. I’ll probably forget about it when we watch a movie when we arrive back home.” You assure.

“Who says we’re watching a movie?” Sam’s lips quirk upwards, hands wrapping around your waist as she pulls you to her while your arms move to her shoulders.

“Well, what do you have in mind, Miss Carpenter?”

She gives you a peck on the lips. “It’s better if I show you.”

You ran inside the car in a hurry to get back to your apartment and let Sam do the things she wants to you, the awful looks by Michael replaced by the desire pooling in you when your lover teasingly runs a hand between your thighs.

Again, it was fine. Everything was as it should be. Perfect.

But what came after? Not so much.

-

After you fell asleep, Sam carefully shuffled out of bed. She grabbed her dark cloak and Ghostface mask from the closet, running her fingers over the outlines of the eyes, sighing in relief. It felt good to pick up the mask again. Lately, she hasn’t been going out in the streets as much, having you to thank for that. As luck would have it, you gave her a mission (although inadvertently) at the same time the urge to kill became intolerable.

The job was easily done. Sam found Michael still at the party, waiting for the right moment. Michael went out the house, going for the alley since the bathroom was occupied. That’s when Sam made her move. Michael did not fight back, the alcohol in his veins dampening his ability to form coherent thoughts (assuming that he is better sober than he is drunk). Behind her mask, Sam was bursting with glee. Oh, how she missed it. There was nothing to compare to the feeling of excitement as you witness someone bleed out before you and the satisfaction that comes with it -- well, maybe nothing except you, her girl.

Sam opens the door to her room, anticipating your body still on the bed, sound asleep, but to her shock, you’re situated on the couch, both eyes on the bloodied mask in her hands.

“Sam, why is there blood on that?” Deep down, you knew the answer. You want to hear the confirmation first before you do anything that could potentially put your life in danger.

“I-it’s paint, baby. Tara’s got an art project for school. I-”

“Don’t give me that bullshit. I’m not five. I know blood when I see it! That is blood!” You point out, frustrated. “And what kind of excuse is an art project?! My neighbor’s cat could make a better excuse.”

“Baby,” Sam’s tone is dangerously low as she stalks closer towards you. “I did it for for you -- for us. The way he was looking at you… I didn’t like it one bit, so I removed his eyes.”

You get up from your seat, going to the farthest corner in the room away from Sam. She does a gesture to signal that she’ll go towards you and you put a hand up in warning. “Stay the fuck away from me! You’re mad!”

“Oh, please. Don’t we all go a little mad sometimes?” She retorted, ignoring your protests.

You flinch from her touch when she touches the side of your face with crimson colored hands. “You’re sick, Sam. I’m calling the cops.”

“But I love you!” Sam yells, her voice breaking at the end. “Can’t you see? I did it for you.”

“You keep saying that, but do you really mean it? ‘Cause if you did this for me, you wouldn’t have done it in the first place.” You spat, punching her abdomen, followed by a kick to the stomach.

Sam doubles over, giving you an opportunity to run, to call the cops, to do something. “Honey, please. Let’s talk about this! I’m sorry, okay? You know how much I love you. Please stop this. You’re hurting me.”

“I am?” You question in dubiety. Sam is clutching her stomach, tears pouring like a water fountain. That’s the moment it hits you. “I am.” Letting your guard down, you run to Sam, clinging to her like a lifeline, your last chance. “Baby, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

She shushes you, “Hey, it’s okay, I know.” You close your eyes shut as she presses a kiss to your temple. “I love you so much.”

You let her pull you in an embrace, holding your body tightly. How you love her so. You bury your face in the crook of her neck, saying those three words back. She did what was best for the both of you. Nothing can harm you ever again so long as you stay by her side.

“My perfect girl.” Sam whispers. “Do you trust me?”

There was no getting out of this. You’re in it for the long run now. “Trust is a tough thing to come by these days.” You sport a grin against her neck that vanishes quickly, for you don’t want Sam to recognize it. She thinks she has you wrapped around her finger, but she doesn’t know the truth of it. It may be like a game for her, but not for you.

It’s not game over.

Not yet.

#samantha carpenter #sam carpenter x reader #sam carpenter #scream #scream franchise

[bloodandtime]

exit light, enter night

cw: fem!reader, there’s a lil slightly like squint and you’ll see it angst, fluff, probably eddie being way smoother than he actually is, plus size!reader, kind of insecure!reader but not like self deprecatingly so, uh weed smoking, happy ending :) suuuuuper self indulgent:) also eddie didn’t d*e cause this song came out in ‘91. oh and i have never worked at a vinyl shop so… i went off straight vibes lol

Enter Sandman is ringing through the store as you step in.

“Munson!”

A headful of curls spring up from behind the counter, brown doe eyes wide and anxious as they meet yours, he knows he’s playing the music too loud.

“Hey, sweet thing.” he says as lowers the volume.

Floorboards creak as you make your way to the back room. You can hear Eddie’s boots stomp behind you.

“Eddie, I’ve told you to stop calling me that,” you sigh, shrugging your coat off.

He’s leaning against the door frame, arms crossed over his chest, leather jacket under his battle vest, black jeans and combat books sit on his frame. Like they’re made for him.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” he says with a wink.

Embarrassed at being caught, heat creeps up your neck. You groan and shoulder bump him out of the way, trying to ignore how solid he is under those layers.

His laughter follows you to the register.

“Is it just us today?”

He hops up on the back counter. chain jingling as he gets comfortable. He smiles, and it’s sticky sweet.

“Sure is, sweethea-OW.”

He glares as he rubs the spot on his forehead where the pen you threw at him hit.

“Stop flirting with me and work!”

He jumps down from the counter and exaggeratedly looks around the… empty store.

“Yeah, we sure are swamped. How will we ever make it till close?” comes his sarcastic drawl from your side.

You guess the snowstorm outside is keeping customers at home. It’d be a nice evening… if Eddie wasn’t here.

Honestly, he’s fine. It’s more of a you problem. You can’t keep focused when he’s around, and you think he might have caught on. Eddie takes any and all opportunities to flirt with you.

You figured he did that to everyone, not wanting to read too much into it but the only other person he flirts with consistently is Steve.

Sarcasm is how you deflect Eddie’s advances, even though he flirts with just you (and Steve) it’s hard to not think about how he might be fucking with you.

Mess with the fat girl, lead her on, it’s funny. Let her think she has a chance and tear it away from her and laugh at the thought of her thinking anyone would like her.

Ugh, I’m not a teenager anymore, you’d think I’d be past these insecurities by now.

You scrub a hand down your face and sigh, trying to shake yourself out of that toxic thought cycle that’s so easy to fall into.

“You okay?”

Eddie’s still beside you at the register, now leaning against the back counter. He’s staring, brows furrowed.

Despite yourself, you shoot him a soft smile. That catches him off guard, you’re always so quick to the defense.

“Yeah, Eddie. I’m all good, just tired.” you sound it, voice rough.

Before he can ask anything else, you tell him you’re going to work on the returns from this week and get started organizing the vinyl before close.

You’re off to the back before he can even open his mouth, which honestly is impressive. That boy can talk.

It takes about an hour to finish up returns and you shuffle back to the front, shocked to see Eddie has already started organizing.

“Oh shit, tha-,” you’re cut off to Eddie jumping half a foot in the air and yelping out in surprise.

You bite your lip to stop your laugh but it doesn’t stop the shit eating grin that spreads across your face.

He points at you, cheeks flushed, “Don’t.” he says with a finger pointed at you.

You can’t help the giggle that escapes and Eddie’s eyes soften, happy to see you’re smiling. Even if it is at his expense.

“I was going to say thank you for starting to organize, I’ll start from the other end of the store and we can meet in the middle.”

He nods, a sweet smile on his face. Before you get lost in his dimples you busy yourself with vinyl.

It’s been another hour and a half and everything is in its rightful place. Both you and Eddie are sitting on the back counter, shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh.

No one has come in during your entire shift and there’s another two hours before close and the snow still hasn’t stopped.

Eddie leans his head back and lets out a loud groan, “I’m soooooo bored, why can’t we just close?”

He peaks down at you, slumped at his side. He follows the shape of your eyes down the slope of your nose to your lips.

“I know a way we could pass our time,” he blurts out, unable to stop himself. He’s still staring at your lips.

You look up and meet his amber eyes, his gaze more intense than you’re used to. You want to squirm, he’s looking at you like he wants to devour you whole.

“Oh yeah? What should we do?” you bump his shoulder, and he shakes his head and the moment is gone.

He pulls a joint out of his pocket, and your jaw drops.

“I’m not smoking weed at work, Edward!” your voice going up an octave.

He snickers as the horror stricken look on your face.

“Hey, come on. No one has come in and no one will. I’m surprised if we’ll even be able to leave.”

You’re still hesitant, he’s not wrong but you’d rather not get caught.

“Fuck it,” you slap your hands on your tight covered thighs, jumping down your skirt flounces back into place, Eddie tries and fails not to stare, “so where we doing this?”

He hops down beside and gives you another smile, pleasantly surprised you’re going along with this.

“Come on, I’ll show you my spot.”

He runs to the front door to lock it, he makes his way back to you to throw an arm around you to take you to the back.

You don’t fight him, to his surprise. You maybe even lean in a bit, he’s enjoying the contact too much to tease you though.

Turns out his spot is just a covered porch at the back of the record shop, you snag your coat on the way.

“Oh Fuck Me it’s cold,” you gripe as you step outside, the wind whips snow outside the porch, you can’t even see five feet in front of it.

“Shit, maybe you’re right, we wont be able to leave.” you worry, pulling your coat tighter around you, leanings closer to Eddie.

Eddie pulls you closer, relishing in the contact. He doesn’t know why you’re being so nice tonight but he’s not complaining.

“Worst case, you can come with me. The van drives just fine in the snow.” he exhales the first drag, you try not to stare and fail.

He hands the joint to you, your fingers already frozen. As you take a hit you register what he just offered. Now you’re coughing and not just because of the joint.

“Slow down it’s not going anywhere,” he says through a light laugh as he softly rubs your back.

“Did you just offer to take me home with you?”

It’s his turn to cough, and your turn to pat his back. You repeat his words back to him and he gives you a half hearted glare, a smile tugging at his lips.

“I was being gentlemanly and you’re the one making it dirty, I’ll have you know.” he reprimands, wagging his finger at you.

He takes another drag and passes it back, your fingers brush and it’s a shot of electricity up your arm.

The weed is definitely taking effect.

Eddie can’t take his eyes off the way your lips wrap around the joint, right where his lips had just been. An indirect kiss.

You’re quiet when you speak next, after handing him the shrinking joint.

“You’ve got to stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“Being so kind to me. Makes me get my hopes up even though I know it doesn’t mean anything.”

The wind whistles around you while Eddie and you stare at one another.

You feel his arm pull away from you, and you’re convinced this is it as you look away so he won’t see you cry. He’s going to tell you sorry and he’s not interested. You can handle it, it’s not the first rejection you’ve faced.

You can’t look at him though, tears sting, threatening to fall.

“Hey,” he whispers, softer than you’ve ever heard him, “look at me, please.”

His hands find your cheeks, warm against your wind-chapped skin. Joint long forgotten as he tilts your head to look at him.

“It means something. It does, to me, it does. I’ve liked you since I started here. It’s not a joke and I’m sorry I’ve made you feel this way,” he pauses, his thumbs softly graze the tops of your cheeks.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Please.” you whisper.

You and Eddie Munson have your first kiss in a snowstorm, freezing cold and perfect.

#YAHTZEE #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x plus size!reader #eddie munson x plus size reader #eddie munson x chubby!reader #eddie munson x chubby reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #eddie munson headcannons #eddie munson headcannon #stranger things x yn #stranger things blurb #stranger things headcannon #stranger things x plus size reader #stranger things x reader #gabby writes #this is VERY VERY sulf indulgent i hope someone else likes it cause i really do and if u dont pls dont let me know lol #i wrote this months agooooo

[oops-all-concrete]

Hello lovelies, 💘HAPPY VALENTINES DAY!!💘

I'm back with more BG3 headcanons! Today's prompt is;

💕Modern AU; Ways the BG3 (romanced) companions are idyllicly sweet with Tav!💕

No spoilers! Tags are; A whole heckin lot of fluff and cuteness!

Lae'zel -

You have to be careful with what you say around Lae'zel. Made a minor comment 3 months ago that you wanted to revisit somewhere in the Sword Coast? Get packing, you guys are all booked to go. Asked Lae'zel to get you candy on the way home? She has 3 full bags. Say that comment her folks made last time you visited made you uncomfortable- you have a paragraph text apology from all of them the next day. She's not just someone who wants to spoil Tav, she fucking will. (If Tav manages to talk her out of going nuts with the pampering, she's surprisingly sentimental. You bet she keeps a rock in her pocket that reminds her of Tav)

Shadowheart -

She is so excited to post you. She doesn't like social media and tends to keep to herself, but after watching Tav post pictures of them both, she wanted to do the same. The minute she gets even the smallest romantic gesture, she's scrapbooking, she has a wall of Polaroids joined by a horde of hand made sketches, she's putting together little snack baskets and mailing them to Tav, she's about as obviously head over heels as a person can be, really. She's always got a camera aimed at Tav, even if they're just for her. (A good 90% are just for her eyes)

Wyll -

This man never plays games/gets online with both sides of the headphones in. It doesn't matter if the game is online, offline, urgent, time sensitive, dependent on his concentration- if Tav so much as makes a peep, he's out of his seat and across the room. Hells, he takes every chance he gets to go give Tav some attention. In the drift of leaving the waking world, Tav will definitely hear a little "One minute, Tav needs me" despite them not asking. Some footsteps. And then moments later, the warmth of the duvet being tucked all over their body and a gentle kiss to the cheek. Whispered "I love you"s and then a quiet. "I'm going to hop off for a few hours." So you can have some quiet.

Karlach -

She's one of those people that really makes you realise you have good taste in other people. Like, you can't think of a time you went on a walk and she didn't pick up some trash, help an elderly person across the street, immediately offer her seat to a pregnant woman. No matter how prideful Tav might be or not, there's a pride in the admiring looks other people give her. Little girls pass in the street and say "mum, I want to be like her when I grow up!" Everything she does makes Tav proud to be with her, yet somehow Tav is always the one under a spotlight to her. "Oh, me and my partner-" this. "Oh, my partner-" that. "I'm so proud of my Tav. Ugh, I am so lucky" she insists at every turn.

Gale -

He's a night owl, much to Tara's dismay. Wether that's because he can't sleep, he likes being awake in the dark hours or- his brain won't stop nattering at him for a gods damned minute, but either way. He's probably working, quietly cleaning, organising Tavs things so they don't have to worry. In quiet moments, between possibly making them breakfast because of course he's up that early- he's just kissing Tav on the forehead, gently, trying not to wake them. He needs them to sleep but there is not a moment in his day where he doesn't think: "Does Tav know I love them? Can I remind them once more? Even if its just for my peace of mind?" Because he will not rest if he has an inkling his live for Tav isn't at the forefront of their mind.

Astarion -

If you even suggest to this man that you should do matching outfits, he's excited. He always wants to take the wheel, but also wants Tav to have a foot in the idea. He will give ideas left and right, opinions up and down. He doesn't care if it's a date or not, cringe solstice photos, or just gym clothes, he's all for it. If you guys didn't have matching pyjamas already, you have them now, congrats. (If he's still a bloodsucker, he'll definitely still go out of his way to learn how to cook for Tav. Tokyo Ghoul rules though, so Tav gets to taste test a lot. Only the best for his little capri-sun) Overall he's just unashamed and excited to be with someone who very obviously wants to be his, visibly as possible.

(Bonus Halsin!)

Halsin -

This man lives for shared activity. He's quite alright on his own and can allow Tav their space, but going to get massages, haircuts/styles, wine tasting is his total vibe. Just relaxed gatherings together. Nobody lives a spa day like this man. It allows a level of intimacy that nature intends. Cleansing. Careful. Close. He will learn how to do Tavs hair and makeup if asked. Will take pleasure in being able to undress them and put them to bed at the end of a long day. Go on hikes and camping trips, walks through the woods, carving names into rocks and bringing back souvenirs to press into a book that's only getting thicker.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #astarion #bg3 headcanons #wyll ravengard #gale dekarios #lae'zel #astarion headcanons #gale headcanons #wyll headcanons #karlach headcanon #karlach bg3 #astarion x tav #karlach x tav #lae'zel headcanons #lae'zel bg3 #shadowheart headcanons #shadowheart #shadowheart x tav #wyll x tav #halsin headcanons #bg3 halsin #halsin x tav #gale x tav #fluff #valentines day

[elmhat]

// dsmp rp

"sunset" — a drabble based on @hiding-in-the-vault's power trio au

~

“Hey, can we stop for a second?”

Sapnap and George turned back to Dream. As tired as he might be, as tired they all were, Sapnap still had the wherewithal to be suspicious. “Why would we stop?”

“Well, I mean, just— I think it'd be good.” Dream looked out over the vast fields they had just traveled through, to the dense patch of forest they were about to enter. It would be dark soon.

Sapnap looked at Dream like he had murdered his family. “This was your idea to find Punz, bro, you’ve gotta have a better reason than that.”

“Look, I— Fine, it doesn't matter!”

“No, it fucking matters now! What is it, what's up?”

“Sapnap,” George interjected. From behind Sapnap, he yawned theatrically, as he had been doing for the past several hours.

“What's in the forest, Dream?” said Sapnap, eyes narrowing. “Do you know something?”

“No!” Dream insisted. “You’re— ugh, I was just thinking that, like, maybe it would be nice if we, like… saw the sunset.”

Dream actually, physically recoiled at his own words. Fuck, did that sound dumb. He was tired, he was aching, he wasn't thinking straight. Sapnap was just frowning back at him with that specific brand of confused anger. Like a big, stupid ravager.

“The sunset?”

“It was dumb! Okay? I get it!” Dream shook his head. “Forget it.”

Sapnap didn't look any less confused. For far too long, he studied Dream’s face so intently that it felt like he could see through the mask, searching for the lie that wasn't there. Dream wished there was one.

“Yeah, let’s do that,” said George. “I'm not walking anymore.” Without any further conversation, he went and sprawled out on the grass, gazing up at an orange sky. Not the muddy orange of Dream’s hidden prison jumpsuit, but a vibrant, pretty orange. The color of life, not death.

With a shrug at Sapnap, Dream made his way to George’s side, half suppressing the wince as he sat down. He drew his knees up to his chest.

“No way you're serious,” said Sapnap, but Dream didn't respond. He was too tired for this argument; hopefully, Sapnap was too. But Dream still kept his hands free, hovering near his axe, just in case. Nothing was worse than getting complacent.

It felt so good to finally be sitting down. They had been walking all day, dragging themselves from one side of the server to the other, and while that wouldn't have bothered the Dream of the past, it was undeniable that he couldn't go half as long as he used to without several breaks. Which was fine, he could manage, he had come this far. It was just frustrating.

The sky really did look amazing right now. Between fleeing bases and collecting scraps of his old resources, Dream hadn’t thought about sunsets once since his escape, but something about being around George and Sapnap brought back the urge. It was more nostalgia than anything; the hours and hours they had spent outside as kids, camping out after dark when they knew they shouldn't. It would sound stupid to say that the color reminded Dream of Sapnap’s eyes, but here he was.

Eventually, Sapnap relented. Dream heard the clank of armor as he thumped down beside him, jostling around a bit before exhaling deeply through his nose. After that, the whole world went quiet. It wasn't as awkward as it should be.

“What are you really doing with Punz?” Sapnap finally asked him, tone hushed and weirdly soft.

Dream didn't look at him; he couldn't take his eyes off the sky. “I can't tell you that,” he whispered back.

“He revived you.”

It should have been an accusation, but there was no heat to it. “Yeah.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Dream saw Sapnap nod. “Dream, listen.” A gentle hand on his arm made him look up at Sapnap’s face. “If this is gonna work, if we’re gonna actually work together, you need to tell me what's happening. Punz is whatever, you have your old secret shit, but from now on? You’ve gotta share, dude.”

“Yeah, I know,” said Dream.

“No. Clearly, you don’t. I’ve gotta look after myself here, and George too. You’re not gonna lead us into some bullshit that’ll get us killed.”

Sapnap was looking at him like he was in pain. Dream broke eye contact; something twinged inside of him. “I'm sorry. About— that.” It was obvious what he meant. “For not telling you.”

Staging the betrayal with Punz, orchestrating Sapnap’s grand hero moment behind his back—that had been rough. As necessary as it was, just as much now as at the time, it didn't fully take out the sting, not even for Dream. Sapnap certainly wasn't taking it well. One day, maybe, he might understand the importance of it all. After all, it wasn't like Dream was the first of their little group to betray the others.

Dream couldn't tell Sapnap everything, but he could tell him some things. He could tell him about threats and traps and elements of plans that didn’t require too much prying to understand. That was more than before. As hard a pill as it was to swallow, there just wasn't the same trust that there used to be. Not after Sapnap killed him.

“That works both ways, though,” Dream told him. “You have to tell me stuff too.”

Hesitantly, Sapnap nodded. “Of course.”

They left it at that.

It was nice being able to talk to Sapnap like they were friends again, even if it was only a mirage. Dream couldn't let himself get used to it. They would both be fighting again tomorrow, and eventually, it would end up being more than just words. But the past year had taught him a lesson, and he had learned it well: the cruelest thing to endure was false hope.

#c!dream #c!sapnap #c!george #dreblr #power trio #drabbles #my writing #elm fics

[akaashiwaifuuwu]

Nothings gonna hurt you baby.

Lee minho and fem reader

Warning : smuts, reader got slutshamed not from minho, punched? Ig thats all?

Honestly, all minho wanted was a roommates and him having a female roommate. Which was not his idea ofcourse but here he is looking at you. "Uhm hi?" You said "hello" was all he could respond.

"So your name?" Minho started taking the box which you were handing him "yn and you?".

"Minho" he started opening the box "well minho, I'm glad that you're helping me" you smiled at him while tying your hair

You have fully settled all your things and started going for work it has been 5 days since you have settled and you took the TV remote and turning on some reality shows while minho came "yn, watch something else what's this? is this something?" He took the remote and played some football game.

"Nooo I was watching it" you pouted until you heard a knock you got up to open the door "heyyy" you heard the 7 boys who was just standing "oh wait is this the wrong dorm?" You heard the freckle boy "no, this is my roommate sho sho let my boys come in" minho gave you show sho look.

You just turned around and on the reality show "oh what is this?" The same freckle boy sat next to you "reality show" you are focused on that until the girls on show started fighting you gasp "what a bitch" felix gasps as well "I know! All she does is nag around and ruin the other girls dream of becoming a model ugh Catherine is a bitch".

"Well I think Catherine deserves to be kicked out" felix got cut off by you "maddie is such a sweetheart she is a cinnamon roll" you both were focused on the shows too much "the one who is gonna get kicked out is drum rolls Cassie".

You and felix yelled fuck "damn they both just met half an hour ago?" Chan looked at both you "im felix" he gave you his hand "im yn, nice to meet you" you both shaked hands.

"Yn, what are you doing?" Minho sat beside you "im not disturbing you even felix wants to watch this, right lixie?" You turned around and saw felix blushing "yeah, I'm" he mumbled "see?" You gave him puppy eyes "okay then" minho exclaimed.

It has been 2 hours since the boys came and all of them is focused on the reality shows except minho he still doesn't have the idea why you were all too focused. Bangchan gasps "Kate is a bitch and maddie deserves more it".

"Please, maddie is a sweetheart even Kate she just I don't know made her point?" You were cut off my minho "guy you're my friend not her what the fuck man"

"A win is a win minho" hyunjin patted his back. "So, yn why did you shift here?" Jisung and all the guy turned toward you "well minho was looking for a roommate or so and I was finding a dorm so here I'm" you looked at minho "guys who are you asking her questions" minho glared at jisung "she is our new buddy" chan said

It's been awhile now 2 month since you moved in. You were coming back from work while listening to music and you saw a guy looking at you and you didn't mind cause he might have just like your hair or whatever and when he didn't stop looking you were scared.

You went out from train and he did the same "hey are you single?" The guy asked and you ignored and send your location to minho "im talking to you" you started walking fast "you bitch" he grabbed your shoulder and you could see the rage in his eyes "let her go" you saw bangchan and felix "okay fine guess she is whoring around with so many guys,no wonder why she looks so ugly and what a slut you're nothing but a fucktoy for guys to use and thro-" he wasn't able to finish his sentence minho punched him.

"Are you okay?" He looked at you, you were blank that guy ran away you came to your sense when you felt minho touch your face causing you to jolt back he looked so scared as if you're some glass, so fragile he doesn't want you to slip from his vulnerable hands.

"Are you okay?" Bangchan came "im fine" you smiled but you your cheeks were wet you felt minho wiping your tears and felix giving you some water. You're glad you have them.

You sat on the sofa while minho gave you another glass of water "yn you're the most beautiful women I ever saw" your eyes widened "don't think about what he said okay?" He looks at you "he reminds me of my ex he was so nice and then later on he abused me mentally and physically I never was able to say that" you were crying again "minho, don't I deserve love?" You were holding your knees close to your chest "you do yeah you do" he looks so sincere "just hold me minho without hurting just hold me" and hold you he did, he did picked you up and place you on his bed and he hopped in as well.

Your head was filled with his perfume, his hand and him.

"Yn you will catch cold" minho said firmly "its okay" you ran away and played with rain. Ah, rain. You love rain, since you were a kid rain gave you inner peace.

And cold? Yeah. "I told you but you didnt listen" he glared at you while giving you medicine "im sorry" you apologized to him "you're not"

"You're right, I'm not" he laughed at this remark.

"I'm not going to work okay?" You hummed "you're so nice taking care of me and so good looking" he looked at you and saw that you were fast asleep.

"My new wallpaper" he laughed "mate you're whipped" chan smiled "from where did you came from?" Minho was breathing heavily.

"Maybeeee from tree" bangchan laughed at him.

He came back from his work and heard you whimpering the door was slightly open he saw you and your hand under your underwear and other hand around your nipples he looked away and went back to the front door "yn I'm back home" he announced you came out flushed breathing heavily and you were washing your hands "hey minho you came early" he looked at your hands "yeah I wanted to see if you're doing okay or not".

Minho is stunned. You weren't wearing a bra and he can see your nipples. "Minho wanna go shopping with me tomorrow?" He hummed. Oh he is doomed.

"Let's go there" you grabbed his hand and entered a shop. You were trying and buying multiple cloths, accessories, makeup, shoes and what not. "Let me breathe" he showed you his palm "yes baby breathe, are you hard" you smirked "yn don't".

You entered the lingerie shop he closed his eyes "I feel like it's illegal to see this" you were guiding him "this is so pretty" you were seeing pink lace bra with pink undies. He opened his eyes and he was flabbergasted.

"I'm trying this one on" you exclaimed.

"Minho wanna see it?" You were yelling from dressing room "no ma'am" "you're missing anyway your loss baby"

You both were eating dinner at a restaurant with the boys and their girls, it was so overwhelming obviously both of your legs was touching but you both weren't moving. "Earth to yn" felix waved his hands infront of you "yeah tell me? You asked "what are you thinking" he turned his head like a dog trying to understand something "nothing" you smiled.

"Yn we need to talk" minho said when he came from office "tell me" you gave your full attention to him "I like you yn, you like me too tye feelings flows both way." You were stunned "im a horrible person you don't wanna do anything with me" you looked down "tell me all the horrible thing you did and let me love you anyway" that took your breathe away.

That's when you pulled him through his collar and kissed him. "I love you minho" you kissed him again and he grabbed you by your waist and started taking you to his bed. His bed where you spend more time than your bed.

"I love you more darling" he kissed you again and you both were pulling eachother and you were sitting km his lap and grinding "impatient aren't we?" When minho removed his shirt you said "Stop stop" breathing heavily "we can stop if you want we can cuddle and watch movie" he was cut off by you kissing "its not that it's just im a virgin" you looked at him "oh so I'm the one who is gonna corrupt you?" He smirked and you slapped against his chest "do you want this yn?" You nodded "I need words darling".

"Yes minho" you whispered.

Both of your clothes were on the ground you were panting he was taking his time worshipping you and whispering sweet nothing against your ear he was eating you out when you lift your hips he made sure to keep it down he made sure you stay still.

"Come I come" he looked amazed that you're not able to say anything. "Baby you can't speak?" With that you came and you were shaking "that's it yeah good night" he kissed your forehead "no need need you yes need you I need you" you started crying he realized you were deep into your sub space "call me sir" he ordered while he put his condom

"It might hurt" he hold your leg "but I will make sure it's pleasurable" he smiled while he put in "I sir I sir hurt sir " you cried "shush I'm here baby" he said this and started moving slowly and you were babbling "good girl" he said while you were moaning"good girl good girl good girl sir" he knew that you were gone.

"Baby" he saw you were shaking "baby I need to make you come one more time yeah?" He looked at you but you were gone "you know sleep okay tomorrow I will see" he picked you up and made sure that he cleaned you.

"Ynnnn you weren't waking up are you okay?" You saw 6 boys looking at you "where is minho?" You asked "he is cooking lunch for you" chan looked "shit I slept for that long?" When you stand up, your leg gave up and you fell "careful" chan said as he hold you "minhoooooo" you yelled "What what what?" He came running

"I can't walk?" You questioned him "damn" he smirked.

"OH" felix yelled while smirking "stop it lix I will kill you" you warned "yn and minho have hickeyssssss they both had sex" he started running around while singing "he went hard" hyunjin laughed.

Oh well.

"That's how I met your mother" he looked at his son and daughter.

#stray kids smut #lee know smut #stray kids fluff #lee know imagines #skz smut #hyunjin #lee felix fluff #hwang hyunjin #changbin #stray kids jisung #jeongin #seungmin #stray kids comfort #stray kids hard hours #lee minho #lee minho smut #lee know x reader #lee minho x reader #lee know #lee know imagine #lee minho imagines #smut skz